Quendalon/Session18ZeraInterlude

The chamber was quiet for a time, two figures on one side of the room considering two much larger silhouettes on the other. Outside, the din of men in armor running and shouting, and the sounds of horses' hooves could plainly be heard. The forest smells of old wood and layers of dead leaves hung thick around them, and Zera remembered a time when that would have made him feel at home.

It had been a long time since he had a home, and there was nowhere to hide from the storms that raged in his heart and mind. The Unconquered Sun had stretched his hand out and changed Zera's life forever, and ever since he had only known frustration, sorrow, and pain. He and his companions traveled, and behind them was a trail of broken bodies and wanton destruction.

His hand still clutched the haft of his bow, and the knuckles grew white around the polished wood. His hands began to shake, and his brother Tepet Aekino glanced at him worriedly. "Brother, perhaps you should sit down... " Zera said nothing, only standing and turning his harsh gaze inward.

Across the room, the Tree-spirit and Bear-spirit of the wood examined the two Solars, expressions revealing nothing of how they felt to have the Sun's Children in their presence again. The Bear-spirit rumbled to its venerable companion in the ancient language spirits shared.

"Oakbrother, the Breakers of the World come again. Where once they were wise and powerful, now they are young and directionless. They will wreak great havoc amongst our wood."

"Mmmmmmm...", the Tree-spirit had a voice like the creaking of an ancient oak in the wind, "perhaps this is so, Ursa. Perhaps they will learn, in time."

"Forgive me if I do not have your patience, or your faith. We could end the threat... " His teeth glinted in the pale light of the chamber, his intentions clear as a bell.

"Mmmmmm... no need for us to get involved." There was a long pause. "No, these saplings should have a bit more time in the sun before we pass judgment on them. We have see and survived much, and they are freshly sprung from the acorn."

Tepet Aekino watched his brother and shook his head, worry creasing the perfection of his features. Zera seemed like a stranger, especially since they decided to fulfill the oath to the Lady Idris. Pulling his bow on these spirits, in their home no less, was completely incongruent with what he knew of the man.

His passion was always something that Aekino could understand and relate to. They disagreed about much, but their hearts were set on similar goals. To see Zera become this surly, mocking shell of himself was something Aekino didn't plan to put up with any longer.

The rumblings of Spirit-speak cut off abruptly, as a sound like a whip-crack resounded through the woody chamber. Zera raised a hand and touched his rapidly reddening cheek gingerly. He raised his eyes, and met the angry gaze of his Twilight companion.

"How dare you? How dare you act like a wayward child in the home of those who would protect and succor us? Waving your bow about and treating these spirits like plague-bearing lepers? I know you are exhausted, I know you are frustrated and full of sorrow and shame. So am I! We have hurt innocent people and made poor decisions. You can stand there and sulk, but I intend to set them right, if I'm able! Now, give me that bow, go off to that corner and get some sleep!"

Zera could do nothing but gape as Aekino wrested the weapon from his grip, and gave him a hard shove towards a corner shaded by heavy leaves and thick roots. He found himself slumping to the ground and squeezing his eyes shut, somehow not willing to stand up to Aekino's withering glare. Barely-remembered exhaustion crept over him, and he slept.

* * * * *

He raised a hand to wipe a thick film of sweat from his brow, and forced himself to put one boot in front of the other. The sun was a blazing white ball in a cloudless sky, and a barren sea of dunes lay all around him. He stepped over the bleached bones of some animal, and thirst scraped his throat mercilessly.

Thorns burned and screamed in his mind as he walked. Mara wept bitterly and asked over and over what she'd done wrong. Nala and Grey Mantle begged him to repay their long faith with good deeds, Cessair smiled her perfect smile and tore his soul from his chest with the fairest fingers he'd ever seen. Soldiers died by the score as he glanced to either side, people with friends and family that had done him no real wrong. Kuro the Raven snarled at him, and fired burning arrows of pure sunlight into his side. His father stared disapprovingly, while his mother and sister lay behind him, grinning men violating them as they threatened them with cruel knives.

Each vision made the walking man flinch, and the last drove him to his knees, the sun-baked sand raising blisters on the flesh beneath his ragged breeches. He slumped forward, his cheek burned and his mouth filled with sand.

"Child."

The voice was as deep as a canyon and musical as a masterwork harp. It reverberated through the empty landscape, and coursed through Zera's body. He rolled weakly onto his back, and was face-to-face with the unforgiving Sun.

"Dear child. Your soul is full of anger, your heart is a garden sown only with dust. Blood soaks your hands. Your mind is unquiet."

Zera's lips pulled back in a snarl. He spit sand from his mouth and pushed himself to his feet. He wobbled uncertainly, but pushed his head back to stare into the blinding whiteness above him.

"DAMN YOU! You miserable, bloodthirsty, wretch of a god! I didn't ask for this! Why is this weight mine to carry? When can I rest? When does the agony stop? You filthy, unfeeling bastard! Damn you!"

With the last curse, the rage drained out of Zera, and his strength followed suit. He collapsed to the dusty ground, and shivered. Sobs wracked his chest, though no moisture remained for tears.

The Sun made no reply. It simply beat overhead, the heat rising in waves from the dunes and burning the Night Caste's skin. It remained like this for a time - whether it was ten minutes or ten days, the man could not discern.

"I... I... am... sorry." Cracked lips forced the words from a parched throat. "I... have... failed. Do... as... you wi... will."

The world flashed and burned, every atom of his body seeming to fly apart, and all was black. Zera Thisse opened his eyes, and all was blackness around him, above and below. Before him there was a wooden frame, filled with sand. A sandbox, Zera thought. I played in one as a boy.

As he thought about childhood games, he noticed the small boy crouched at the far end of the sandbox. His skin was an odd pale yellow color, and his hair was like burnished gold. The boy looked up at him with dark eyes, and motioned him over.

Zera stepped carefully over the wooden partition, and into the sand. Something about sand brought back an unpleasant feeling, but he couldn't remember. He shook it off, and crouched next to the boy. The child was hovering over a small wooden carving of a man, lying on its back in the sand. Zera remembered, and stared at the child with trepidation.

"No fear. No worries. At your ease, child." Zera felt his anxiety wash away, and the tumult in his heart seemed small and insignificant.

"The figure is you. You are lost in the desert, thirsty and tired and alone. You are wounded and directionless."

Zera nodded. It was all true. The god-child gave him a sympathetic smile. It added a figure, and two more behind the first. "Now, you are not alone."

Again Zera nodded, understanding coming to him. He could no longer shut his brothers out. They were his only friends, his only hope for survival. As much as they needed him, he must admit that he needed them as much, if not more.

"At this moment, the four of you are alone, and you still wander the wilderness. This is necessary. One must stand in darkness, in order to strive for the light. My children are divided, so that they may find the joy of reunion. You are given impossible tasks, in order to surmount that which you know as yourself, and become what you are truly meant to be."

The child reached up, and brushed the tears running down Zera's grizzled face away. His hands still on Zera's cheeks, it pulled his face down, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Zera's caste mark flared to life, burning strong and proud.

"You are well named, Night Caste. There will always be darkness inside you. There will always be places you will never let me reach. Nevertheless, you are my child, and I love you. Children stumble before they walk. They struggle before they can talk. I do not begrudge you these growing pains. I know what you will become. Have faith in me, Zera Thisse. Know this -your name and those of your Circle will be known to the Ages past... you will earn your place in the histories of your kind. Go now... your brother worries."

Zera's eyes flared open. Aekino was crouched over him, wiping at the corners of his eyes with a silk handkerchief. His face was a mask of concern.

"You were crying in your sleep, Zera. I've... I've never seen you weep. Are you well?"

The proud archer pulled himself to an upright position, rested his head on his brother's shoulder, and wept for what had gone before. Aekino held him for a long time.

Ursa and Oakbrother watched, and nodded. The lesson had been learned. Above, the sounds of men faded into the distance...