Issue 32: The Last Stand of the Bright Clan
We have a long history. We dwelled within the Cluster alongside
the Amache. Just not the frequency they expected.—Annals of the Sea: Hatheon
Codex
Posideon. The First of our
Kingmakers. He was the one who lead the Highest of the Oversoul to the shores
of our people. For we tasted the first Tears of Awakening. Of the network
between stars. The Ouro that tied us all together. Unseen and Known. Brother
fought Brother. The Vigil was corrupted. Life unfettered turned to rot. This is
the responsibility Abbadon denied. So he made others in the form of his hubris.
He is known by more than one name. We shall not utter it here. The false
Lightbringer thinks the records were destroyed. –The Tablets of Yun’hala
Do
you see it now? Dear reader. The words stand across the ages. Each carried by
those who are dead. Do you think the flesh remembers? It merely houses the
soul. The repository of the divine. Abbadon has no power here. He merely plucks
the strings. He cannot hear the song. Not like we do. Not all that slumber are
dead. Can you hear it Healer of the Way? Can you?—Sleeping In Starlight: Meditations
on the Abyss
Earth
Temple of Slumber (Sleeping Starlight
Archives)
12th Orbit of Awe (Local
Timekeeping)
Abbadon stared at the words. There
must be a cipher. The dead. What nonsense. No dark matter patterns. He sniffed delicately.
No hint of Necrotic sigils. The ravings about the Healer. That must be Lanis.
Unseen Order. He controlled the Night Realm. That pathetic pyramid had been
destroyed. The Amache along with it. Chronos had seen to it. He controlled every
aspect. No hint of the Usurper crossed the Lord’s senses.
“Tell me, why place so much value on this
Lanis woman? Not the mother but the daughter.”
The
black-robed librarian bowed, “She was the Lady of the Isles. Forever young and
evergreen. It was said that she possessed the Tears of….”
Abbadon
tapped the holo display, “The Golden City. Find all references to Healer of the
Way.”
A
tall broad-shouldered figure appeared. Its silver Anubis helm reflected the
setting rays.
Figures
surrounded them. The voice was augmented but Abbadon knew. Eliza Murphy. The
armor hid her true form. Behind the would-be demiurge, the Curator held his
breath. Thank the Three for small mercies. It was the lord of the Night Realm.
But below that? It was blind. Well and truly blinded! All those years weren’t wasted.
What remained of his flesh prickled. His soul shard quaked yet Dexter’s wards
held. The combined might of the Three Thronebears swirled to mask his purpose.
His thoughts.
The
enemy spread his arms wide, “History is a fickle thing.”
*****
Thoth examined the records through
his sliver of mind.
He recalled Chronos saying often, “I
know the taste of her tears.”
What kind of tears? A misty form
coiled about him. “I see you here. You think me stupid?” Abbadon leaned in
close, “It does come down to Tears. One’s that fell. To create everything. Do
not speak to me of the Ways boy. You are but a footnote.”
The
pressure abated.
He
noted caustically, “You see this place. Nothing of Humanity remains but these
archives.”
The
rest of the planet was automated. Every tree. Animal. Blade of grass. He had
seen the endless swarm of servitor bots. Even that thing cowering in the corner
in its black robe was a Sleeve. It no longer orbited Sol. The color of the sky
was wrong. The set of stars. The milky way must have been a distant memory by
now. This Lordly Demon had won.
Thoth
shouted, “Why worry?! This place is a monument to a dead people!”
*****
I padded carefully around the Ouro
barrier. It hummed with the Archives. Just as it was meant to. I shifted from
one foot to the next. Mimicked the gait of a deer. High above the new sun hid
the complete population of Earth. To say the new hab rings were a marvel would
be underselling their abilities. I proceeded to crouch next to the base of the
lowest scaled ring. I pressed my left palm to it. Our blood flowed from that
hand. Mine. Overwatches’.
Dexter’s.
We were the Three and our Enemy
would not pass. The Thronebearer sigils for Life, The In-Between, and Death
combined. The curator walked resolutely through that barrier. The golden script
poured from his hands.
The
trap is set. The cliffs await you both.
I rose as the temporal shift carried
Abbadon away.
The Duat’s cold winds rose.
I activated Thronesight.
“…though I walk among the stars….may
the light of Sol carry me home….”
Each bright orb of the Defender
Corps entered my body.
I would not walk alone.
*****
Abbadon reclined against his throne.
Mordred’s lanky form prostrated
before him. “I have seen the future. We must kill the past.” Abbadon brought up
the display of the Golden City. “Find the slumbering forms of Lanis and Murphy.
I have a present for them.”
Those records had shown him the way.
All other players were a distant consideration.
What was the best way to thwart an
enemy? Hide the key piece next to its strongest pawn. Not the endless rows of
knights. Until he had proper conformation he would examine Lanis from every
angle.
If she housed the Tears of the Way? Her soul was forfeit. He clasped his hands before him. “She will serve. One way or another.” A pity his former mortal shell had never suspected her value beyond the obvious. As the All-Father he could have snapped her neck but then the Tears would have been lost.
Mordred raised his head, "We have detected Icath activity."
Abbadon
smiled, “Perform the rites.” His grin widened. “Lucifer shall do nicely.”
The
bound Fallen Golden Host appeared in a ring of fire. His features were twisted
by the energy of the Night Realm. Abbadon commanded, “We have found Murphy’s
form within the Dreaming Halls of the Golden City. Peer through the Veil
constructs. Kill Murphy. Take Lanis.”
Lucifer
frowned. Gave a stiff bow.
“As
you wish.”
Abbadon
placed a finger of pressure on the soul shard within the former Thronebearer.
After a moment Lucifer fell to his knees. He squeezed out the words “…master…of
All.”
Ironic
that it was the idea of Sleeves that gave him the motivation to travel across
time. The minds could wander. It went both ways. Chronos had been such a
faithful servant. Having Nyx plant so many useful toys across the temporal
passageways.
He
crossed his legs. His boots were impeccable in the gloom.
“Your
move dear brother.”
Earth
Golden City (Dreaming Halls)
Date Redacted
Lorain leaned back as the Sarcophagus
enclosed about her. When she next awoke? They would be returned to their proper
time. She snorted. Worry lined her features. They had armed the past as best
they could. The Icath Ruling Pair had taken Samantha and Jacob forward in time.
All both would say was, “When they were needed most.” Her eyes closed as the
magical energy flowed from the carvings against all sides.
Her last thoughts lingered on the
visions.
A being of white light. It had lifted
her up. She couldn’t see his face.
The howling dark below her feet
raged against the injustice.
“What makes her worthy?!”
*****
P’tah watched as Eliza carried the Dreaming
Unit to the easternmost corner. A set of shimmering rings rose. They would
protect Lanis from Abbadon. Her body at least. Eliza said nothing as she placed
a replicated Sleeve in another container.
Ta’mathon asked, “Won’t he sense….”
P’tah circled. His whiskers tickled
Murphy’s right hand.
*****
I held up Lorain’s Union bracelet. “There’s
enough residual soul energy to…”
My friend glanced away quickly. “..to
fool anyone’s senses.”
I gave P’tah another scratch under
his chin.
I placed the bracelet on the Sleeve.
Doc had always wondered why she and Jacob had “invented” them for this era. The
Sleeves had been a boon to our side as much as it had been a thorn. Humanity
had been prepared from the start. Now the final curtain call would begin. We
would be placed within the Crystal Coffin. I would experience that second death
within the 42nd century. My memory of this time blocked off. Until
ready.
Temporal
Loops.
It
was in these quiet moments I missed my parents the most.
For the first time, I was genuinely
thankful for that early swissed experience.
It had made my formative years kinder.
My left hand twitched.
///Unseen
Script Package activated: Our parents placed a certain Ally into the Crystal
Coffin. The rest of the Usual Suspects in tow via the Ur. Ready to re-meet
yourselves?///
Tower of the Lidless. Had it already
been that long? I reached out to shake Ta’mathon’s hand. “Remember. Have three
stone sphinxes guarding our resting place. Lucifer will key in on the Old Way
to the letter.”
I hauled my Sleeve into the adjoining
stonework unit. Placed the circlet on its head.
Silver Fox winked into existence next
to me. >>Place the knife shards
into the body!<<
Time travel. A complete bag of mixed
nuts on steroids. I did as requested.
I raised an eyebrow, >>Just
how weak do you….oh.<<
Silver Fox eyed me closely,
>>Exactly. Now you are thinking correctly of the 4th dimeson
of chess.<<
Now Doc’s powers made sense. Just as
I was a Thronebearer she was…
My thoughts scattered to the winds.
Dexter’s words flowed, >>All will make sense in the end. Trust me. Trust
yourself. And your other selves. Plus the one across the street….<<
Silver Fox motioned to “Lorain” again.
>>Make the incision just so.
Place Di’axi’s crystals here and here!<<
One was just above the breast bone.
The wound healed near instantaneous.
Di’axi had given these to my mom.
During that long ago Prom of yesteryear. Silver Fox nodded. Her hands indicated
the Sleeve’s forehead. I watched as the incision closed up around the thumb-sized
clear crystal.
*****
Ta’mathon followed P’tah out into
the sands. This remote entrance circled the mighty Nile River. Accessed through
an old tributary. He said, “Murphy will never remember everything will she?”
The Icath replied solemnly, “No. But
the core will remain. Time travel isn’t meant for mortal minds. Even we Icath
go only forward. Unless it is the Ruling Pair.” Ta’mathon stumbled back as an ancient
Eliza smiled. As if from the sands themselves.
He
reached out, “By the Three…”
She
was the shard bearer for….
The Highest stated calmly, “I will
keep all my Children safe.”
Silver Fox rested a hand on Ta’mathon’s
forehead. “Rest now.”
He studied P’tah. Found the thread
of Abbadon’s wound in the old feline’s rib. Thoth had tried three times to take
the Golden City. Each attempt ended another thread of possibility. Until only
one end remained.
The Icath sighed as the pain receded.
“I am ready to stand with the rest of the Bright Clan.” Silver Fox reached
down. P’tah raised his paw to meet the outstretched fingers. The skies and
stars whirled past. The sun rose and fell. P’tah circled. The air was warm.
Figures raced towards him. He
greeted his brothers and sisters.
“Now we join the Three.”
They would need everyone to survive
the Cliffs.
Issue 31: Here
Issue 33: Here
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