In Her Name: The First Empress: Book 01 - From Chaos Born (15 page)

“But is it not also true,” Ayan-Dar countered, “that every prophecy known to have been made by Anuir-Ruhal’te, the oracle who gave us the words that I believe speak of the child born in Keel-A’ar, came true?”

The keeper inclined his head. “Yes, that is so. Anuir-Ruhal’te was of the Ka’i-Nur, but her history is well-known among the keepers of all the orders. She predicted the Final Annihilation of her own age, and many things that came to pass long after. Only the Ka’i-Nur had complete records of her words, but of the other prophecies of which we know, all have indeed come to pass.”

“But cannot a prophecy be interpreted many ways to fit an event, or an individual?” Another priestess, one of those who had gone on the expedition to Ka’i-Nur, asked.

The keeper slowly shook his head. “For many, such may be said, but not for those made by Anuir-Ruhal’te. While they did not contain dates or names, the words of her prophecies were so well-chosen that it was quite clear when they came to pass. Keepers in later ages recorded this fact, marveling at her singular vision.” He looked over the gathered members of the Desh-Ka priesthood. “There have been many prophets and oracles throughout our history, who have said a great many things. Some of these things have come to pass, perhaps by sheer chance, and many have not. While I do not know how it could be, it is my belief that Anuir-Ruhal’te truly had visions of the future.”

“And when was the last such fulfillment of her prophecies noted?” T’ier-Kunai asked.

“In the middle of the Third Age, nearly one hundred and fifty thousand cycles ago. It was a prediction of the great war that laid waste to the eastern half of T’lar-Gol and the famine that followed. She predicted the start of the war to the day based upon the timing of the moon cycles from the preceding Great Eclipse.” He shook his head. “Such has been the accuracy of her visions, those of which we know.”

As Ayan-Dar opened his mouth to speak, T’ier-Kunai raised her hand to silence him. “Are there any more such visions from this oracle?”
 

The keeper nodded, his expression turning grim. “There is no way for us to know if there are others still held by the Ka’i-Nur. But there is one other prophecy that we know, that clearly has not yet come to pass. It is believed to be Anuir-Ruhal’te’s final vision before she died, for even the fragmentary records of the time not possessed by the Ka’i-Nur speak of her passing. She herself was a keeper, perhaps the greatest who has ever lived.”
 

Closing his eyes, he reached deep within the storehouse of his mind, recalling the verse of the prophecy that was among the first elements of knowledge he had indexed as a young keeper:

Of muted spirit, soulless born,
in suffering prideful made;
mantled in the Way of Light,
trusting but the blade.

Should this one come in hate or love,
it matters not in time;
For he shall find another,
and these two hearts they shall entwine.

The Way of sorrows countless told,
shall in love give life anew;
The Curse once born of faith betray’d,
shall forever be removed.

Shall return Her love and grace,
long lost in dark despair;
Mercy shall She show the host,
born of heathen hair.

Glory shall it be to Her,
in hist’ry’s endless pages;
Mother to your hearts and souls,
Mistress of the Ages.

The gathered warriors were silent for a time, trying to understand the meaning behind the words spoken by the keeper.
 

“Mistress of the Ages,” Ayan-Dar said softly. “It is she.”

“Please, Ayan-Dar.” T’ier-Kunai’s voice betrayed her frustration. “You leap to conclusions.” Turning to the keeper, she asked, “How far apart in time were the two prophecies written?”

“I do not know.” The keeper shook his head, then looked to Ayan-Dar.
 

“The keeper of the Ka’i-Nur did not say, and even had I thought to ask, she would not have told me.” Ayan-Dar shrugged. “All I was permitted was a single question.”

The keeper gave a low growl of disgust. “The Books of Time are for all the Kreela. Truly they have strayed from the Way.”

“And paid the price.” The others who had gone with T’ier-Kunai nodded grimly at her words. While the Ka’i-Nur lived on, it would be long before their wounds were healed.

And then
, T’ier-Kunai feared,
they would have their revenge, if we are not vigilant
. “Keeper, are these prophecies related?”

He made an apologetic gesture with his hands. “As you know, priestess, our caste records and recites information of the past for the benefit of all, but we do not interpret it. To do so would violate the integrity of the Books of Time by injecting our own bias. It is up to you and the peers to make of it what you will. This is as it has always been, and so shall it always be.”

“It is not mere coincidence.” Ayan-Dar gestured toward the southeast. “The child that was born in Keel-A’ar to Kunan-Lohr and Ulana-Tath is an exact match of the child described in the prophecy related to me by the keeper of Ka’i-Nur. The child has hair white as the snow on the mountain peaks and talons the color of blood. She was born under the dark light of a Great Eclipse. A child with such traits has never been recorded in all our history.”

The keeper nodded his agreement. “Based on our stored knowledge, and accepting that it is not complete beyond the end of the Second Age, this is so.”

“
Not of one blood, but of seven
,” Ayan-Dar quoted from the verse he believe spoke of Keel-Tath. “She will unite the race, do you not see?”

“And then put a curse upon us?” One of the other priests, a giant among them, spoke in a deep voice that echoed across the chamber. “I would perhaps agree with you that the first prophecy speaks of this child, Ayan-Dar. But I must also say that I am deeply troubled by the words of the second vision. As you all know, I am not one who delves deeply into the way of words,” that drew a chorus of grins and fangs bared in ironic humor, “but I would say that based on the second prophecy, which speaks of this curse and
The Way of sorrows countless told
, letting this child fulfill any destiny beyond being cloistered in a temple may be unwise.”

To Ayan-Dar’s dismay, many of his peers seemed to agree. “Every great age in our history has been preceded by darkness,” he told them. “And the unification of our race would, I am sure, be no exception.
 

“But my brothers and sisters, think of it! What if all our kind stood united once more, as we know we once were at the dawn of history. When our race was united, we achieved things of which we cannot even dream now. What we could do, with the knowledge and powers that we have gained over the ages, would be limitless.” He clenched his fist in frustration as he paced before them. “The Way now takes us on a path that is an infinite loop, a journey that leads us nowhere, and with no purpose other than to simply fight and die. We no longer even have the old gods to whom we can pray. Our souls are empty vessels that, perhaps, this child could help fill. She could give us purpose beyond maintaining an infernal equilibrium, and change our path to one that actually leads us to something greater.”

“The Way is a circle because that is what keeps our race alive, Ayan-Dar.” Yet another voice, one of the senior priestesses, spoke. “All is in balance here on the Homeworld, and even between the Homeworld and the Settlements after the last conclave decided to divide the orders and send three to the Settlements. The Way as we have followed it has allowed us to survive and not destroy ourselves as nearly happened in the Final Annihilation of the Second Age, which swept away the last remnants of the old ways.” She held up her hands, showing her gleaming black talons. “We are not beings of peace. War and battle are in our very blood, it is part of what we are. There is nothing beyond the path we follow, because to do anything else would lead to our inevitable destruction. The Final Annihilation at the end of the Second Age was proof enough.
That
was the pinnacle of achievement of our forebears. Those few who survived that cataclysm lived in caves underground, as do the Ka’i-Nur still, for a thousand cycles before they could again venture out upon the surface. The Way as it is now was fashioned then, to save us from ourselves.”

“And what purpose would the priesthoods serve?” Another spoke up. “We now have a clear reason for existence: to teach the Way to those who shall come after us, and to defend the Homeworld from the Settlements, just as the three orders that now live among the stars defend them from us.” He looked around at the others. “What need is there for us if the race is united?”

That brought a strong murmur of agreement, and Ayan-Dar felt his blood begin to boil. He fought the urge to draw his sword and challenge them all to ritual combat. “That,” he told them, his voice rising above theirs, “is what you are truly afraid of, is it not? You are not so concerned with the fate of our race, but with our own place in the world! We control the Way, we control the lives of those who live beyond the temples through the training we give them in the
kazhas
. And yet we abandon them by not involving ourselves with their affairs when those beyond our grounds are plagued with hardship and suffering, as many are now in this honorless time.”

“That is enough, Ayan-Dar!” T’ier-Kunai’s sharp words plunged the gathering into instant silence. “I called this gathering so you could voice your thoughts and discuss what has transpired, and what you believe, with the peers, and to help me decide if I should call for a conclave of the orders. But your last words take you on a path that will lead to the
Kal'ai-Il
if you do not curb your tongue.”

For a moment, Ayan-Dar felt a bloody rage take him, the bloodlust that was the warrior’s call to battle, the same bloodlust that had doomed his race to endless cycles of bloodshed.
 

And he was not the only one. The others of the priesthood were incensed with him, and he could feel their emotions echoing in his blood.
 

With a mighty effort of will he spoke, his voice far calmer than he felt. “Brothers and sisters, you know that I mean you no offense. But I believe these words, hard as they may be to hear, to be true.” Before T’ier-Kunai could say anything, he quickly went on. “When I say that this is an honorless time, I mean that very literally. I speak of the Dark Queen, Syr-Nagath. May I remind you of the words the keeper of the Ka’i-Nur said to me after she had told me the words of the prophecy of the child. She said, ‘One of our own, not of your six precious bloodlines, is destined to rule over all. She shall restore the Ka’i-Nur to their rightful place, as was the way in ancient times.’ I believe she was referring to Syr-Nagath, who came from the Great Wastelands.”

“That very well may be so, Ayan-Dar, but it changes nothing about the way the orders conduct their affairs, and our strict non-interference with the world beyond the temples and what is taught in the
kazhas
.” T’ier-Kunai was furious with him, but he did not care.

“We may have to reconsider that, my priestess,” he told her, “if, when she unites T’lar-Gol, she turns upon us.”

“She would not dare.” The reaction of the others of the priesthood ranged from outright guffaws to eye-rolling disbelief that one of their own would even consider such a possibility.

Ayan-Dar looked at the high priestess, whom he had known and cherished for a very long time. “If she is of the Ka’i-Nur, as I suspect, do you not think her gaze will fall upon this temple soon after she conquers the lands beyond the Eastern Sea and to the south? What would happen to your precious equilibrium if one of the orders, ours, was destroyed?” He looked at the others, who had grown thoughtful at his words. It was clear such a possibility had never occurred to any of them. “In this room are the most powerful warriors of our race, here on the Homeworld or among the Settlements. This is no mere boast, for we have proven it over the ages in every battle and war in which we have fought.

“But our numbers are few, far fewer than the other orders.” He paused. “Were an army of millions, armed like the warriors we fought at Ka’i-Nur, to march upon this temple, could we prevail against them?”

Turning back to T’ier-Kunai, he knelt and rendered a salute. “I have spoken my heart and mind, high priestess of the Desh-Ka. I thank you for your indulgence.”

Then he stood and calmly strode out of the chamber.

* * *

Leaning against the ancient stone rail that ran around the circumference of the massive dais of the
Kal'ai-Il
, Ayan-Dar looked to the southeast, in the direction of Keel-A’ar. Above, the great moon glowed, its light softly illuminating the buildings of the temple that sprawled across the plateau.
 

He glanced up at the shining orb, wondering at the beauty of something that had been so utterly savaged. The moon had been inhabited long ago, before the last great war that brought the Second Age to a close and very nearly destroyed their race. All who had lived upon the great moon had perished, victims of the terrible vengeance their enemies on the Homeworld had wrought after the moon dwellers had used enormous projectiles as kinetic weapons. In a final orgy of destruction, the armies of the Homeworld reduced the surface of the moon to little more than ash, and it had never been resettled in all the millennia that had since passed.

As he turned his eyes back to the world on which he stood, he had a clear view to a vast distance, and could see the lights of the cities and towns that dotted the landscape in the darkness. There dwelled those who toiled as porters of water, or seamstresses, armorers, builders, and the many other castes. But precious few warriors were there now to safeguard them and their offspring. Those who were born to the sword were now dying in droves in the current great war.
 

More troubling was that something was wrong, deeply wrong, in the east, beyond his growing concerns about the Dark Queen. He could sometimes sense a voice in his blood, a spiritual song that weakened day by day, that was nothing now but agony and desperate honor. And fear. Gut-wrenching, never-ending fear. The blood from which the song sprang was unfamiliar to him, and he very much would have liked to investigate.