Of Men Made Gods

Chapter Four

  A Freedom

  "I STILL CAN'T see why you have to go this far," said Caenphis, sounding more curious than worried. They were alone in one of the upper floor rooms of their house.

  Moving to join his wife who stood at the window, Avon sighed aloud before he spoke. "I may not have the time to do this later."

  "That's what I don't understand," she said, turning slightly so she could look at his face. "Why do you have to do this at all?"

  "I had already decided to do this before I even came here," he answered, looking at the unobstructed view before him. "This is just an early start. If we wish to survive, more of them can be created later with or without the help of the Hall members. But I need to do this now since I might be occupied with another matter in the coming days."

  She knew what the other matter was. He had been agitated ever since he got back late in the morning from the meeting with his one-time friend. At the time, she, along with a few of their friends who had come to hear about Elizo's 'land of gods', had asked what he had seen. She had found it odd when his reply was half-hearted at best, unusual for anyone else let alone Avon who had always reveled in telling an entertainingly blemished story of anything that had an adventures streak to it. But somehow she hadn't pressed him for details then.

  'Who would have thought there could still be a little distance even between people who practically talked every single day,' he thought silently, feeling slightly uncomfortable as the silence grew between them.

  Avon knew the awkwardness was mostly his own fault. Only because of the excitement and the sheer relief in being home, did he not notice it the first night he was back. But ever since then, he would be completely at ease with his wife one moment and the next thing he knew he would be worrying about the silliest thing ever. After a time, Caenphis, who seemed to have picked up his discomfort herself, had also began acting strange around him.

  'We're both adjusting,' a part of him spoke in his mind, 'it will just take a little more time.' But the reassuring words seemed useless in his sudden unsure state. Ever since he knew what Elizo had been doing in his house, his world had seemed a little bit darker. The things which had seemed beautiful in the early morning looked like perversions to him now. Even this, their beautiful relationship seemed too fragile to be true when his wife chose to not ask him what was worrying him. He did not know whom he could believe in to see the truth like he did.

  "The other matter...," began Caenphis, breaking the hulking silence first as she turned her gaze back to the world outside.

  Hearing her soft words, he knew she was giving him the chance to explain only if he wanted to. And suddenly, a weight seemed to lift from him as a little light shone on his heart.

  'Sometimes believing is as simple as choosing to do so,' the thought settled comfortably in his mind for a moment as he felt a rush of love for the woman beside him.

  He spoke, starting from the beginning and leaving not a thing behind. He told her all the things he had seen; from useless details of the house to the magic he had been a part of in the hall of Elizo's house.

  The words left his lips smoothly, while a contented ease settled over him and he relaxed. The worries didn't leave him; instead, he was distant from them. Knowing he would settle each one of them in time gave him a kind of soothing peace.

  After silently listening to him speak, his wife's first question was, "What are you saying?"

  "It's blood magic," he began, explaining a thing he had only noticed because of the horrors he had seen in his travels, "from human sacrifice."

  "But...," said Caenphis, stuttering a little as she tried to accept the sudden revelation, "but that is forbidden."

  "I know what I saw."

  He didn't turn to look at her face, yet he knew it would be blank as it always was when she was trying to solve a particularly stubborn puzzle. He simply stood beside her; waiting for her to speak.

  "Still," she said finally, turning her eyes on him again, "you know if you reveal his actions at Hall tomorrow there will be no lesser punishment than death for this. Can't you reason with him on your own at first?"

  Avon didn't speak for a time. He gazed upon the two hills which dominated the landscape before him. The two heaves of the land met at a slight gorge between them where he knew the sun would shine through as it rose each morning. Even from this distance, he could see the paved road that bisected the tame forest on the larger of the two and led up to the Temple of the Stars at the top where initiates went to become full Druids.

  Cital, Mountain of the Stars. Travelers and guests from other lands always thought the people who had named it were being full of themselves when the word was translated for them, but those of the city saw the dreamers in that name and loved them as they watched the crystals on the temple light up on every sunset.

  When Avon finally spoke though, he was pointing at the smaller hill named after his own father's great-grandfather; the Lamourn. "I've seen with my own eyes the reason why a mountain bears my family name," he began, his eyes shining with a clear memory. "Oh, Caenphis, if only you were there. I know you have seen images of it, but nothing really prepares you for the sheer size of the audacious thing. It is the only manmade structure I have ever seen that showed me what marvels could be created by magic."

  His face shined with an inner light as he remembered standing atop the Mountain of the Seven Sacrifices, Talhuraes. A second later, though, a cloud seemed to smother his thoughts as a shadow fell across his face.

  Watching as the darkness crept up the land, chasing after the last of the day's light, he said, "I've also seen what horrors can be wrought with magic. I've seen a place where the magicians have sought power that should never reach mortal hands, their overfed greed making them not stop even when they were destroying their own people. An icy place where the land had never been ruined by graves and the word magic was held in hated fear by every dru who was old enough to know it and young enough to still care."

  He felt the memories of the cold northern land that birthed his words ring in his mind as he paused. It was the only place he had seen in his travels which he had never mentioned to his wife. "You ask me to speak with him first," he began again, turning to look at her, "change his mind if I can. I must admit I want to try that, be surprised in a good way for once in a situation like this. And I plan to do it your way first too, but I know my words would not hold any weight with him now. If he has done this with his own will, as I believe he has, I fear he is not the person I once thought I knew.

  "Yet, I will try," he finished, saying the last words after breathing in deeply and putting on a smile that he could not keep from being unsullied with a touch of bitterness.

  Caenphis leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder as her sight turned once again to the view outside where the night was quickly descending, accepting his words with just a nod.

  Putting an arm around his wife, Avon watched the crystals on the temple atop Cital as they shined while shadows ruled the land below them. They stood watching as the sky turned into darker shades and the stars slowly came out, happy to linger in the comfortable silence that surrounded them both.

  When one of his slaves finally came to tell him that they were ready, his first thought was disappointment that the moment had to end so quickly. But when he finally turned around, he found that the time had been anything but short. His eyes still adjusting to the sudden shift from the misleading night light outside to the darkness of the room behind him, he reluctantly said goodbye to Caenphis before he left.

  The three carts were waiting in the courtyard at the back of the house. They were huge but the oxen harnessed to them looked like they would be able to handle the cloth covered large loads they held. It took Avon only a slight amount of time to work his magic and make them look like they were carrying nothing extraordinary.

  The spell he used was a variation of what he had learned that very morning inside Elizo's gateway. He didn't really need to hide anything, but having had a lo
ng day he had decided he would rather not attract unwanted questions as they passed the streets in the night. Though part of him knew he crafted the spell mostly out of a boyish need to simply try it out and see if he could do it.

  Mounting his horse, he turned to see the carts which now looked to hold goods that conveniently peeked out of the cloth covering to satisfy prying eyes. Pleased with his own work, he pulled on the hood of his cloak as he turned towards his house's back gates before riding out into the young night without looking to see if the carts driven by three of his slaves were following.

  The ride was short, and as the city had no wall it was also uninterrupted. Cresting the smallest of the three hills that surrounded the city, Avon reined in his horse and dismounted. Looking back, he saw the three carts struggling to reach him while beyond them lay his glittering home and the only land of his people, the Danu.

  In line with his people's tradition of giving anything of matter a name with meaning using their old, almost forgotten language they had called the city below him Tricuta, the Three Peaks. When they were at a loss to find a name for the barren piece of earth he now stood on, and not imagining the name would stand the test of time and their children's imagination, they had called the hill Numsaetal, the Nameless Mountain. Even their people's name, Danu, was an ancient word which meant the first people.

  Now, gazing upon his homeland with the thought of war in his mind, he saw how ridiculously little defended it really was. Sure of the fear their magic would inspire in any of their enemies, they had sat without preparing for the day when one would dare to move against them. Suddenly, even the legendary Lucifio Lamourn's victory looked to him like a lulling potion that kept them in what he now saw as their suicidal dream.

  'One problem at a time,' he chided himself, trying to let go of his worries as he leaned back and stared at the starry sky above. Looking at the twinkling lights, he remembered the childish stories his mother used to tell him about the sun being a star. Even though he now knew they were all lies, he still took comfort in them as he distantly heard her words again while letting memory whisk him away for a moment.

  "Once the sun and the moon were stars just as small as all these you see now," she had said, as they lay on grass and looked upon the night sky. "And there was neither night nor day to mark time's unceasing surface. But when the sun met the moon while wondering the empty sky, they fell in love and gave birth to all the stars that rule the darkness now. Time passed after that ancient love began and the two grew in power. The sky was free and the stars moved around their parents, reveling in the heavens.

  "Yet, as he aged, and more of their children were born, the sun missed the old times when he used to rule most of the sky alone. With his children filling the space around him, he wished to be alone once more. And so he did the unthinkable. Filled with greed, he let loose his power, which had grown with his age, and scoured his own children from parts of the sky around him.

  "When she saw what he had done to their children, the moon swore never to see the sun again. Letting loose her own power, she fought the sun's light and gathered her scattered children to protect in the darkness of the night.

  "And thus it was that the sky was broken into darkness and light. But, with time's passage the sun realized what precious thing he had lost. He begged the moon, who was hiding from him at the furthest corner of the night, to come back to him. Though, true to her word, the moon refused to even listen to his pleas. Frustrated into madness, that was when the sun first tried to break into the land of darkness. Yet, his attempt failed since the two giants have always been well matched. And, being the stubborn fool he is, he didn't stop when his every effort bore only failure after failure. At last, a time came when, tired of the constant barrage coming from her old love, the moon began to flee the sun and what we now call night and day were born.

  “The sun still hunts his lost love to this day, and whenever they meet he still tries to break into her realm. You can see this clash of their powers in the time we now call twilight," she had said, before settling back from the sudden body movements she had made while in the midst of telling her story. Then, her voice would get deeper and the boy he had been would know the tale was about to end. "So it has been, and so it shall be until the time comes when the stars have grown old enough to avenge their own. A time when the sky shall burn in the glory of a thousand suns."

  Lost in the story he loved even though he now thought of himself too old to believe in moving stars, Avon smiled sadly. More than ever now, he clearly remembered the reason which had made her stories so much better than anyone else's. She had never told them while sitting still.

  Standing silently with his memories, he suddenly realized that it had been too long since he last thought of his mother or his father. And just when he was about to fall into painful thoughts of longing for his parents who had passed away years ago, one of his slaves came running to tell him the carts were too heavy for the oxen to pull up the hill.

  Glad to have something to do at last, Avon dismissed the man, telling him to wait with the others at the foot of the hill. The man had barely taken a few steps before the spells his master uttered started their work. Watching his magic lift the unremarkable goods on the three carts at the same time, he felt his illusions end as his earlier spells were broken by the movement. His eyes too showed him what he knew was true when they saw the sudden appearance of the three large cages floating towards him; now visible since the clothes that had covered them had slipped off amid their unusual movement.

  Having brought the metal structures to the top of the hill, he gently placed them all on the ground around him. He looked at the creatures behind the black bars with loving eyes while at the same time a part of his mind lifted the heavy bars with magic and opened the doors for them.

  The first to step out was the littlest of them all, ever eager to explore as it stretched its wings away from itself. Its color, which Avon knew was the palest of blues that always reminded him of summer skies, was almost indistinguishable in the darkness.

  Next came the green one, larger than the other by a good span. It showed its older age by moving first to greet Avon before following the other's example and looking around as it stretched its wings wide too.

  The last one to come out of its cage was also the largest of them all. Walking unhurriedly towards him after first stretching all its legs, the white dragon lowered its head to his face while opening its magnificent wings.

  Placing his hand upon the ghostly brow, Avon looked deep into the beautiful eyes of the incredible creature. Silently gazing at the animal, he was surprised that he still felt awed by the thing he now touched even after raising it from its egg himself.

  'Maybe you feel that way because of what you're about to do,' remarked a voice inside his head.

  While the dragon pulled back its head as it settled down beside him, he placed his hand again on the creature. This time touching the soft leathery skin of its wings, he tried to ignore the voice which seemed to cling to him, muddying his every thoughts.

  'You can still go back if you change your mind,' the voice persisted, refusing to stop as it drowned him in indecision. 'You may still choose to do it later, if ever.'

  The sound of the younger dragons playing reached his ears, as the misgivings he thought buried came back to show him the holes in his intentions. Deep inside him, he feared the ordeal ahead was going to be too much for all but the white dragon. But he also knew the days ahead could bring disaster to him even though he had tried to show little of his dark thoughts to Caenphis. He knew if something happened to him in the coming days, these animals would be safer in the wild than they would ever be with him.

  Acting before his own convincing arguments to himself could wear off again, Avon quickly began uttering the homing spells that would let all of them know where to head to. But even after completing the spells he waited, the fear of saying goodbye to the creatures making him stretch out the farewell uselessly.

  'I'll ca
ll them back if things turn for the better,' he promised himself, feeling a little better with the words as he postponed his true decision for another day.

  And as he was letting go of his worries to start enjoying the last moments he might ever have with the beasts, the white dragon beside him turned its head to the road below as if it had sensed something there. Following the dragon's gaze, Avon searched for the thing which had caught the animal's attention. He didn't find anything at first, but just when he was turning away, he saw it.

  Dimly visible in the light coming from the sliver of the moon that roamed the night, a lone rider came towards the small hill. An unknown worry started to poison Avon's thoughts as he watched the rider dismount and approach his slaves at the foot of the hill. It was only when he heard the distant sound of the man speaking that he realized he had already guessed who the man was at the first sight of him.

  'Go!'

  The sudden command made the young ones stop their mindless play and look at him one last time before unhesitatingly obeying him. Even the older white dragon only looked at him for just a moment more before spreading its wings and leaping off the ground and into the sky.

  Irrationally annoyed that he was feeling slightly disappointed that the animals had followed their nature and obeyed his command to leave him so quickly, he waited for the rider to come up the hill. Since their pace was dictated by the smallest among them, the dragons were still visible as distant shadows in the darkness by the time his wait was over.

  "Why are you here?" asked Avon, the loss of the three most beautiful things he had ever owned making him more brisk than usual.

  The answer did not come for a time, and when it did, it was not what Avon was expecting. "Tonight I've become the last of my line like you."

  The tired voice broke Avon out of his self-centered thoughts almost as much as the news it conveyed. "Oh," was his only reply at first, making the surprised sound mostly to fill the awkward silence between them until he could find his wits again and speak more appropriate words. But when he spoke again, his words showed he was still shocked as he said, "Elizo, your uncle...?" His mind still groped with a tragedy they had all known was coming, though the knowing hadn't eased the blow he now felt.

  "Yes," said his one-time friend, whispering the words into the night, "the Master of the Hall is dead and I am the last of the Eaeloms."

  "I...," began Avon, starting to say he was sorry, but his tongue refused to utter the overused meaningless word. So, inspired by his earlier recollection of his own family, it was a different thing he said when he spoke again. "I've always thought of him as the only grownup that used magic to make illusions when he told us stories, even now it is that image of him that comes to my mind."

  Neither of them spoke for a time after that, seemingly content to let their minds get carried away on the tides of past memories.

  Finally, Elizo said, "I came to ask you if tomorrow you're going to speak of what you have seen at my house."

  "There will still be a gathering?" he asked, unable to keep the amazement from his voice.

  "Of course," replied Elizo, sounding as if there could be no other answer he could give.

  Trying to sound offhand as he remembered his old friend used to get angry if someone ever tried to help him, he said, "Nobody would object if it's postponed."

  "Why would there be a need to do that?" asked Elizo, his voice deceptively soft as he asked a question with an obvious answer. Finally, after waiting for a reply that they both knew would never come, he said "So, what do you plan to do?"

  "Are you going to stop?" said Avon, giving up on persuading the man to take a few days for mourning.

  "No."

  Sighing loudly as the curt reply strengthened his resolve, he answered the earlier question. "Then I'll speak."

  After getting out of the gateway in the morning, Avon had stormed out of the house without even pausing to confront his childhood friend. He had feared to see his old friend's face and witness the truth written there. But now he turned to see him, as if the man's face would hold the answer to what had gone wrong with him.

  "I've seen the spells of the gateway," he began, trying to change the man's mind for one last time, "and I'm sure you've noticed the form-binding spells were placed there for a reason." Taking the silence that enveloped them as an assent, he continued, "Then you should also know that they were no mere spells since even though their purpose was to work on anything stepping out of the gateway they were still strong enough to work slightly in controlling that being's shape in that place between worlds. That alone shows your friends from the south had enough sense to limit that creature you call a god.

  "I do not know what form the spells impose on the thing but I'm guessing it is made to make the thing stand out anywhere in our world, is it not?" he paused for a moment, looking for a way to show the man beside him the darkness to which his current path led.

  "You've been killing all the slaves you buy," it was not a question but a statement of a fact that both of them knew. "But that god always asks for more, does he not? You have even killed your old slaves but Its hunger never eases. Oh yes, I know of that hunger for your home is not the first place I have seen it."

  Jolted out of his silence by the last words, Elizo said, "What?" as he turned to him at last.

  "I lied about not finding a way to channel magic from other beings," said Avon, referring to the failure he had admitted to last time he spoke at Hall. "There was a land I visited where magicians grew their power by feeding off their own men. Have you any idea what kind of danger you've brought to our people?"

  "We'll be different," said Elizo, the earlier surprise fading from his face as his voice eased back to an uncaring tone. "We are Danu."

  Avon made a sound halfway between mocking and despair as he heard his people's name being uttered with such blind fate. "You mean we'll be the first to fall?" he asked, not able to keep the rising anger out of his voice. "The first people to usher darkness into the world?"

  "Enough."

  It was the tone it was spoken with rather than the word that made Avon fall silent immediately. It was the voice of a man who was tired beyond comprehension.

  "I did not come here to be reasoned with," said Elizo, meeting his eyes as he spoke in a weary voice. "I came only for the memories we share, old friend. I think you've too much faith in your own people. The law I've broken was made in a different time which those who live now have bare knowledge of. You see the vanity and greed that have corrupted their hearts in the changes you would be blind not to notice after your journey in foreign lands, and yet you still think they would do the right thing instead of what'll give them more power?"

  "There are still those who'll follow the old ways," said Avon, though uncertainty clouded his mind even as he finished speaking the words.

  "Yes, a few," said his one-time friend, still looking at him, "but not most. Those you could have put your faith in are vanishingly small in number and even they are mostly made up of old men and women who are slowly dying in their dark corners even as we speak, just as my uncle had been doing until tonight." The last words were spoken in a bitter tone that reminded Avon how much the man had loved the old Druid even though he had rarely shown it.

  Seeming to have damped down his sudden burst of emotion, Elizo continued, "Now, I ask you again if you'll not reconsider your statements to the Hall members tomorrow."

  "I'll not change my decision," said Avon, without a hint of hesitation marring his voice.

  Hearing his answer, Elizo seemed to age a couple of years right before his eyes. His shoulders suddenly stooped while his face slowly fell into resignation. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was willing himself to accept the answer and all the loads it entailed which he alone seemed to know fully. "So be it," he finally said in a low and hollow voice, before turning around and heading down the hill to his horse.

  Slightly shaken by a thing he could not put a finger on, Avon watched the man ride back down t
he road. He was not quite sure why he felt the way he did, but he was quiet certain some sort of decision had just been made though he couldn't tell what it was. Sighing for what seemed to him to be the hundredth time that day, he mounted his horse.

  'Whatever happens tomorrow,' started a voice inside his head, while the empty cages floated before him and he began making his way to his slaves, 'at least it's going to be an interesting day.'

  *