But as it turned out, I wasn’t even safe where Naru’s
family took me. Where they lived, Mierocla, was split up into two religions. The population widely
believed in Ienile, but it also had the Locoba faith, a religion that said that every race has a
homeland, and there was a reason for that. When Naru’s
family returned home, they were greeted by stones and trash being pelted at
them by the renegade Locoba. I realized that I was
filth where ever I go, not just in Lernalaban. But
then I realized, at least now I have a family to see me through it. The family
I had looked nothing like me, but a family’s a family, I guessed. We had just
arrived, and I still had the bandages on. I was not used to the trees that the Mah’rhi based their life around. Naru
jumped around on the trees like gravity didn’t work for him, as he ran up the
trees and over branches. My wings were not large enough for me to fly, yet, so
I was as bound to the earth as any human. But I didn’t have to worry about
burning the trees down. The part of Dashona where Mierocla was, the Wood of Red Bear, would grow back so fast
I wouldn’t remember where I burned it. I envied Ace, as we returned to Lernalaban (Naru’s father was
some important government guy, or something) every year. Ace did not know this
yet, but he was adopted. But he thought he had simply been born into a rich
family. They lived in a pretty good house, and Ace was brought up in the best
schools. But he always seemed to flunk out of every one. His parents soon realized
that Ace had another passion: music. Just as it said in the Truist’s
holy book, Ace had a gift for music. Whenever I visited Lernalaban,
Naru and I would always go to Ace’s house the first
day we arrived. Ace taught me how to play a strange instrument that the
Griffon’s had invented, he taught me to play guitar. He even gave me one,
though Ace said it couldn’t play the music that he preferred. I still cherished
it. I had never, though I didn’t let Ace know, ever received a gift. He offered
Naru some lessons, but as it turned out, Naru’s ears were supersensitive and couldn’t tolerate the
loud music Ace and I liked.
As we
walked toward our destination, I asked, “hey,
where we goin, anyway?” James shook his head and said, “What? Oh, we’re going
to Ecruheim, the main temple. Oh, there’s one thing I
forgot to mention about your renouncement.” “What?” “You’re gonna have to be
forgiven of your worst sin.”
I
thought. I had done a lot of bad things in my life, but my worst one? That was tough. A single memory crept into my mind. A sick, vile memory that I wanted to forget. I guess I
picked that. I then saw Ecruheim. It was a huge,
towering temple, a ziggurat, even, with large spires and steeples that seemed
to scrape the sky itself. Stained windows and golden statues of lions and other
animals seemed to guard the huge, iron doors. Flowers and birds also adorned
the huge temple. Real ones. And fake. Many pilgrims
and peasants lined the streets, bowing with their foreheads touching the
ground. They were praying. Then, the doors opened. And I couldn’t move. Not
just the embarrassed, or scared kind of not moving. The kind of paralyzation that comes from
something outside the body.
James,
Don and Ace immediately fell and bowed, but I could not move. My body was not
my own. When the doors opened. People threw flowers
and palm leaves in front of the door. Then, Elpha
strode out. And as she did, the sky grew cloudy and it began to rain. I was the
only one standing, perhaps in the whole city. Water dripped down my nose, and
soaked my hair, but I still did not move. I saw Elpha.
She was a woman. A human woman. But I could not tell
you how she looked. She was always beautiful, no matter what form she took. She
was white, with long, shiny black hair that undulated as if it where in water
one minute. And then, seamlessly, (the best way I can describe it was like
water), she turned into a black woman, with long, shiny grayish-brown hair. But
no matter, she was always dressed in a dark blue silk robe, with a blindfold
around her eyes. Drops of rain, looking like tears, fell down her cheeks. Her
head was tilted slightly up, as if she was blind. Her mouth was slightly open. oh, god. I’m going to die. I thought. Her
head turned to me, and lightening flashed silently through the sky. She began
to walk toward me, and thunder cracked loudly behind her. She walked, almost
floated, without a sound, and there was silence except for the pounding of rain
on my head and the street. She reached out, her hand inching toward my head.
She could see. But not in the way I could ever have comprehended. As her finger
went to my forehead, I felt a kind of zen
acceptance. I knew what was going to happen. I had a wave of peaceful
inevitability fall over me, like it would hurt a little and then it would all be
okay. Her finger was both wet and dry, cold and hot,
freezing and scalding. When it reached my head, it all went black. And I knew
my life was over. I could not feel anymore. But then I realized that, if I was
dead, why could I still think? Wasn’t death supposed to be pure understanding?
Like a veil would be lifted? Why would I need to think? And why was I
questioning if I was dead? Shouldn’t I know?
You are not dead, child. A voice said. “Well then, what happened?” It is time for your cleansing, the forgiveness
of your sins. “Okay. Does it hurt?”
I asked foolishly. A little. “Okay.” then, I began to
feel again. I was standing... at the edge of a river... in Entheen...
there is a splashing... a screaming.... of a child... and I stand. I do not
help. I do nothing. “Oh,
God. I think I know what I
have to do.” Yes. The voice said. “but will it change
life today?” I asked. No. But it will free you. And that’s the
first step. A child was in the river. Screaming. Splashing. But still I did nothing. I willed my body to
move, but it wouldn’t. “NO!!” a voice
screamed in my head. It sounded like me, but a few years younger. “NOO!
He has to die!! Then mummy will only love ME!!!” The boy in the water was Avren,
my little brother. This was six years ago. I let him die then. But I swore to
myself I wouldn’t now. “LISTEN TO ME!!
You need to save him!! Mom will be mad if you do this!! But she’ll love you a
lot if you save him!!” I tried to reason childishly with myself. But my mind was stubborn. “NO!!
If I make him go away, then she’ll be sad and make me take his place!!” A child’s mind is insane. But it takes an
event of huge magnitude of an emotion to make it right. I knew that logic
wouldn’t work. I was the conscience, and no child ever listens to the conscience.
So I had to take control. I searched in the empty wasteland of unused brain
matter for something to control the legs. I found something, and I made me trip
and fall. “OWW!!!”
My mind began to go into a fit of frustration and anger. Good. I would
be temporarily be letting go of my motor functions to
cradle my wound mentally. So I took this opportunity. I had full control of the
legs and arms, but I was pushed aside by the entity that was knew this brain
more than me: me. Avren was making less noise now. Less splashing, more coughing. I pushed one last time, and
used my body to jump into the water. I grabbed Avren
and held him. He didn’t move. “N-no! I saved him!
B-but... I...” and Avren coughed. I hit the
toddler’s back, and Avren spit out some water. But he
still wasn’t moving. “NO,
god dammit!! I saved you! LIVE!” and he still didn’t move. And then he turned
to dust, and blew away. I held clots of dirt, and dropped it onto the river
bank. I tried to scream, but my voice only swore and yelled in a tantrum. I
began to lose feeling. I gave up. When all feeling left me, I did not care. I
was limp, mentally and physically.
Why did you not save him? The voice asked. Why did you let your own brother die? “I
didn’t!! I really didn’t!” No. I mean why did your child mind want Avren dead? “Because I wanted mother all
to myself.” I said. I did not have any motivation to do anything. Because you knew that she wasn’t your
mother. You knew that, and she really was Avren’s mother. You were a friend of the family, no more, no less. You had no
blood relation at all, you were simply there as a charity. Leren
hated you because his mother cradled
you in her arms, not him. Even though you weren’t her son, you still were
loved. Because you had no family. You were trash. Debris. Filth. Just like James. But
James found a family that stayed with him, a brother that befriended him. It
must just be your personality that made Leren hate you. Made him despise you.
Make him curse your name. Now, you must admit the murder of your half brother. “No!! I didn’t kill him!!” Yes.
Yes you did. You were only supposed to watch him die, not try and change the
past. But for now, you must admit it. Reconcile. “But I DIDN’T!! I really didn’t!!” I
screamed. “I didn’t!!” Then
who did? There was silence in the place of darkness. I came to the horrid
realization that I did. “I did. I didn’t
want to, but I did.” I had given in to the voice. Why fight it? Louder. Proclaim it to
the stars. “I did. I killed him.” killed
who? “Avren!! I killed Avren! I really didn’t mean to-” but you did! You wanted him dead! You said it! “Okay!! I killed Avren!
I meant to! I did! And...” The voice was
silent in anticipation. “...and I’m sorry.”
I
immediately began to feel. My face, head was wet. My clothes were soaked. I was
in tall, wet grass. The air was cold and misty. I felt an occasional brush of
cloth against my skin. Birds chirped. I opened my eyes, and saw that Elpha had removed her blindfold. I was kneeling, and she
was looking over my head. She was smiling. Her eyes were gray, and sightless.
As she removed her finger from my head, she turned, her hair wafting and moving
slowly.
I stood
up shakily, and looked around. I was in some kind of garden, a huge one.
Horses, wild ones, grazed in the distant fog. Even deer walked and jumped along
peacefully. There were trees that had still not given up their leaves to the
cruelness of the upcoming winter. It was beautiful. And I could not see Elpha anymore. But I did see an old, crumbling building
that seemed to be a small temple. I
walked to the iron gate. It was held shut by an
overgrowth of Ivy and other vines. I pulled on the door, and they fell from it
like cut ropes. It was a very old temple. Old burnt out candles and white
statues adorned the walls, along with old faded portraits. But
at the end of the temple, and elaborate shrine. It was an old,
elaborately and luxuriously carved redwood box. Flower necklaces and old,
blue lotus petals and flowers covered the old cabinet. Many old wax candles sat
around it, and a thick layer of vines and cobwebs made it seem that even nature
herself didn’t want the contents of this box to be
stolen. A huge faded painting of a man, apparently a king, hung high above the
shrine. It was a man, with red hair and green eyes, with a crown. Silver armor inlaid
with birds and lions covered the frame of the man. He looked stern, and had a
short red beard that barely covered his neck. The wooden box had a complex
wooden lock on it, with gears and other devices carved into it. As I walked across
the floor, which had many dead leaves scattered across it, the lock began
clicking and turning until it was clear that it was not one lock: it was two
halves of one that joined together to keep it shut. An
small, old clock above the lock had both hands pointed toward