Chapter 2:The way
"You were lying still in a bed of roses. They... they said you were neither alive nor dead."
She patted his hair with a reassuring smile. "Worry not. I shall pray against that. But neither can I revert the will of Kal-Xhalor." Then he looked up at her with confused eyes.
"How can you say that?" He blinked repeatedly, as if dumbfounded. "Why are you just accepting it? What would become of me if such were to happen?" He had a pained look on his face.
"You care about the will of a statue more than your own son."
"No..." She scoffed as she caressed his ear. "No, Nether. I can't care more about anything in this world other than you, my son." She bit her lips again, but this time her golden eyes held a thin veil of moisture.
"It's the will of Kal-Xhalor. It can't be changed. We must only tread the path."
"And look what has become of me. I have no friends, no peers. They all worship me like I'm a god!" He pulled away from her palms. "And now, I am going to lose the one person who cares about me most to this 'Path'."
"Nether, Eid-Xhalor paved The Way."
"And I'm going to change the way." He folded his fist, much to his mother's surprise. "I refuse, Mother. I refuse to be a puppet to the cruel machinations of fate—not when I know the wheel of fate can be changed."
His mother let out a sigh before standing up to her full height of roughly five feet. "You cannot change what fate has decided." Then she walked past him to the podium where the feet of the giant stone statue stood.
"I shall see to it that you're taken to a far safer haven before whatever ill befalls me."
Then she knelt on her feet in concordance with the brilliant white of lightning. After which, she clasped her palms; the sound reverberated around the near-desolate hall.
"Now you also wish to take me away from my own home!" He pointed toward her silhouette, who now had her white veil on.
"SILENCE." His vision went foggy, and by the next instant, he found himself speechless, unable to feel his own tongue.
The Voice... she had used it again.
"I apologize, Nether." She kissed the feet of the crucified monument.
"But this is the only way. Should I be absent, you would be a pawn trapped in the palms of the Covenant."
She exhaled, letting out a golden gust of wind that lit the dark candles encircling her hallowed form at the statue's feet.
"Get ready, La-Gisseib. I shall prepare my most trusted legions to take you, in the wake of dawn, as far as Westhaven."
"You wish to take me that far from my birthright? Into the wake of a foreign land and the dangers of a harrowing journey, Mother?" He slammed his fist against the front pew, making it splinter.
"What about my own choice? Is it not to be valued?"
She shut her eyes, then slowly she spoke, in the array of holy bubbles of light that were birthed from her bosom.
"It has long been stated: The Messiah shall depart far from his birthright, into a land of strange customs... where he shall call his own."
Then there was a hallowed silence, one he observed since she had been praying. When finally she opened her eyes, she lifted her veil.
"Ed ilá iom Sharach. Your fate has been decided far before you were born, Nether. It cannot be changed."
"Yes, it can, Mother." He walked away from the front pew, much to his mother's dismay. "If we were to uproot every single affiliate of the Covenant from the Dark Isle, no doubt we would have changed fate."
"No... we won't!" She cried at the top of her voice, at the far visage of Nether, who was now approaching the giant metal doors. But standing in his path were the huge figures of knights clad in black, with the emblazon of an eclipse on their breastplates.
He sneered at one who towered above him, using his lance to form the latter part of the block that barred the door from him.
"You shall leave, young lord, only when the Blessed Lady wishes you so."
"Nether, you must not change The way. You must not stray from it."
A barreling thunder rolled from the skies, slamming against the dark cathedral in full force, though the structure held.
"I bid you let me through" He spoke calmly, but still they proved impervious, standing more upright before him with indifference on their metal visors.
He shut his eyes, then with a deep exhale, he opened them slowly. Then, like a gentle ripple on a still stream, his words parted the air.
"LET ME THROUGH." And without further resistance, the knights gave in, clearing away their dark lances. But his mother was not so far behind; thus, she witnessed the entire spectacle.
"Ma'dib nä Fre'bi. You have TheVoice."
Her words were laced with astonishment, but he couldn't care more. He pushed the great iron door open, then walked past it into a dark hallway lit with steam lamps giving an amber-orange glow.
His footsteps in this desolate hallway, as he proceeded toward the end terminating in a crimson glow caused by the twin moons, Yashur and Satur, only then could he see the tempestuous storm falling outside.
The heavy drizzle of rain crashing onto the dried patch of grass below. And there he stood a while, staring straight at the distant cysts of men fallen in battle, claimed to be in the bosoms of Thy Lord.
Then he whistled. The sharp sound that pierced the dark stormy landscape was returned with a distant neigh, followed by the thump of running hooves against the damp soil.
He glanced back when he noticed the grace of light illuminating wildly behind him. It was Mother; she was just standing there, watching him with a smile on her face, and he could tell it was a sad one.
"I shall pave my way, Mother. And others would follow, just like Father did."
The visage of a black stallion parted the dark, coming to a halt before him. Then it raised its forelimbs up with a loud neigh before stomping them on the ground.
"With your light clothing, you would catch a cold." She walked toward him, then took off her own woolen cloak and draped it over him, after which she adjusted the seam.
"One day, Nether, you would look back in better understanding of these." She looked him in the eyes before pulling the hood over him as he nodded.
"I pray so, Mother."
"This would light your path and keep you warm." She birthed a halo of golden fire in her palms, then autonomously it hovered above him. "Should I entrust you a guard on your way back to your quarters?"
He grabbed her palms, then kissed them. "I came by myself, Mother." Then he let go of them. After which, he climbed onto the back of the black stallion, into the torrent of the furious rain, and yet still, the halo of fire shone brightly.
"I have Father's blood in my veins. I won't be easily held bound." The horse let out a neigh, making him readjust the saddle.
"Goodnight, Mother. You wish to stay here longer?"
He kicked the horse's side silently in response; it swerved into motion slowly.
"I must pray, Kal-Ed... against the tides of the coming tribulation as foretold." Then she placed on her veil.
"May you find peace, my son. Sleep well. Also, let Hana'an prepare a warm tea for you." But he was already far off into the darkness with his back toward her.
Yet one of his palms waved behind with a voice that followed.
"You worry too much, Mother. I'm an Artagnan."
Then the horse took up flight farther into the path between the distant tombs and cysts toward the fog-covered silhouette of an isle far away.
She shut her eyes as she clutched the amulet around her neck. "He would make a great man."
Then she turned, addressing the six-foot-tall figure who manifested from her very shadow. This masculine figure had a veil over his face, but it was easy to tell he was staring at the distant horseman.
She collapsed into his embrace. "Just like you, Asterion. Like father, like son."