The Corin Chronicles Volume I: The Light and the Dark (27 page)

The general rose swiftly from his chair and walked toward the first family of Corin, his posture upright and his chest out like the confident man that he was. His short hair and square jaw enhanced his ruggedness. Reaching the head of the table, he glanced at the smirking Abaros before giving a patriotic bow to his King and Queen. Then he faced the council.

“It is the belief of most people here,” he started, “that Corin has become a weak and pitiful planet, so much so that every other planet in the universe has started to abandon us. There are rumors of armies gathering to destroy this planet for good, with a string of attacks. The planned strategy is to first attack our way of life, by starving us of all imported materials and natural resources. If we do not stand up now, we will be banished, and everything our great gods have achieved will have been for nothing.”

Oncelot remained rooted to his chair. He turned to his wife, who seemed lost in thought. He then shifted his focus to Abaros, who still had the same ridiculous grin on his face. Just then, he felt dizzy and faint, as the general kept ranting on, rousing the council as one would a mob. Oncelot’s trance-like state lasted for a few more moments before he regained his composure. At that point, the general pleaded for silence as he began to wrap up his speech.

“We know that the only way we can survive is to embrace our past, not run from it,” continued the general. “We need to go back to the Dark World and do whatever it takes to raise our fallen gods.” The noise in the chamber continued to increase, and some members of the council raised their hands in excitement. The general’s voice became louder and more passionate. “We need to bring back the hyper lords and the true gods of Corin.” The general bellowed his words, drawing applause and shouts. He raised his voice even more to be heard over the uproar. “We need to do whatever it takes to raise the Red God of Corin! Long live Baran!”

The noise in the council chamber was now unbearable for the Queen. She placed her hands over her ears. All control in the room had vanished and was replaced with screaming men. It looked like a street riot, with no element of authority to control it. The shouting carried on, only to settle into the united chanting of “Baran! Baran! Baran!”

“Enough!” shouted Oncelot. He spoke in a voice so fierce that it could have shaken the very foundations the gods lie in. “I have heard what the general has to say, and it is duly noted, but let me respond to that, as your king.”

Oncelot looked at General Kratz and motioned him to return to his original seat. The general complied. As the previous silence filtered into the room again, Oncelot gathered his thoughts and addressed the council. “I understand that you are all frightened and concerned about the state of affairs on our planet. But please, you must remember why our planet was spared. We were not destroyed precisely because our ancestors did
not
blindly follow our gods during the war. Our forebears were a very small minority, and, yes, had I been alive during the great Battle of Corin, I might have gallantly followed Baran’s rule. But the fact remains that our ancestors chose not to, and we must respect that.

“Auphora has granted us a second chance, and if we begin on the dangerous path of resurrecting our gods, it is very likely that he will return here. And this time, there will be no mercy.” Oncelot paused and pleaded for calm as the noise level rose. “We also have to remember that only the hyper lords can resurrect their masters,” he shouted, bringing calm to the room again. “Meaning that we must bring them back first. We cannot do that, however, without suitable human hosts, and only Baran’s children can choose an appropriate vessel.”

“This is ridiculous,” uttered Abaros, with a look of intense irritation. “Our planet has become weak. It is not necessarily the fault of any one individual. The fact is that our whole race has become passive since Auphora condemned us to a life of solitude and suffering.” He rose and walked toward the center of the room before turning to face the king. “We cannot even control our own people. As we speak, the cities of Sabudu and Moktu continue to defy us. You wanted to know why this meeting was called,” he continued. “It was called because everyone but you knows that you are a weak king, a king still ruling on a false promise.

“We can try to masquerade it any way we want to, but the fact remains that by splitting our planet into two, Auphora imprisoned all of us. We know not how it feels to sleep in darkness. We have no rest from the light. The sun stares down at us without end, as if it were the eye of Auphora himself, constantly watching us. Controlling us! And you call this freedom? What of all the promises after the great battle, of equal treatment with the other planets? The instant the gods made that pact to leave the ruling of the planets to humans, Auphora’s promise ceased to mean anything.

“I have seen men falter and hide behind fear. I have seen our women and children go hungry for days. The heart of our world is lost in the Dark World. Most of our gold and natural minerals, the best lands for farming and hunting, all lie useless in perpetual night. Everything that symbolized what once made Corin great is gone, lost to us forever. Unless we do something about it!”

Abaros paused to study each face in the room before continuing. “The supposed Light World we live in is nothing more than a prison, a timeless loop of daylight. Corin might as well be one vast world of despair, and none of these humans from Earth, Tyranis—or any of the planets favored by Auphora—has lifted a finger to help us.

“If there is anything we must accept right now, it is that we are the only people who can save our world, and we cannot do that without the help of our banished gods. We need to bring back the children of Baran and their hyper lords. I know it is near-impossible to find a human host who can survive the transition, but we must try.”

A loud roar erupted within the chamber, but Oncelot quickly put an end to it by raising both of his hands. “Bravo! Bravo, Abaros,” he said. “You speak wisely, but can I bring everyone here back to reality?” Oncelot rose to his feet. “We are indeed in a weakened state, with our planet degraded and humiliated. But must I remind you that we are now a small planet, following the divide? What if our actions to resurrect the gods fail, and other rulers hear about it? We will certainly be wiped out for good this time. Must I also remind you that Baran’s quest for power will not have diluted over time? It is likely that our actions could trigger another war.”

“But would you not take that risk, my lord?” asked Abaros. “Anything would be better than living as we are. We might as well be an invisible group of people, slowly marching toward our own deaths and the final nightfall of our race. As the last living souls of Corin, do you not think we owe it to our people to fight for their survival, and to our great gods to fight for their honor?”

With a scowl, Abaros returned to his seat, maintaining his gaze at the king, who remained standing. “You, of all people, should understand. Yours is the only family left with the blood of a god flowing through its veins. When will you realize that we must bring the children of Baran back to rule? With time, the Red God himself can save his planet. But if we continue to live on the false hope of Auphora returning to carry out his promise, we will be doing no more than accepting this pitiful existence he has thrown upon us.”

Oncelot suddenly sat back down, but had started to tremble. “Abaros, remember that you are in a house of Corin, and some of the words that you utter can be considered treason.” He stopped to clear his throat. “The actions you propose can set off a chain reaction that could bring forth an apocalypse.”

“Make no mistake, Lord King.” Abaros spoke aggressively, hardly blinking. “We are already living an apocalypse.”

Abaros’s words cut through the entire room like a dagger. The council members were, for once, speechless. King Oncelot could not find the words to respond to his claim. He had no illusions concerning who really ruled Corin. In the past, he could seldom make a decision without Abaros’s blessing, and he could not shake the feeling that after this day, his kingdom would be finally and totally lost to him forever. It seemed the only way to keep his throne was to agree to resurrect the hyper lords of Corin—to once again defer to Abaros’s counsel.

Oncelot worried that his dependency on Abaros was almost a sickness. It had even passed down to his children, Ramon and Alexis, who frequently went directly to Abaros for advice about their problems. He knew Mariam frowned upon this. Following the passing of his uncle, Madascar, who was the last living blood heir to Madoron, Baran’s second son, Oncelot seized power and immediately promised to bring balance back to his planet. Abaros had been by his side ever since.

“Lord King. Lord King,” repeated Abaros, much to the annoyance of Oncelot. “There are many times when silence is necessary, but now is not that time.” Abaros spoke coarsely. “Your planet needs you. Your people need you. What is your command?”

Oncelot, deep in thought, gazed at his former confidant. His tone turned formal. “Abaros, you speak wisely,” he said, composing himself. “But as the ruler of Corin, I will pass my judgment, and you will all listen.”

“But of course, Lord King,” replied Abaros diplomatically. “I believe you will choose wisely. I believe you will do the right thing for all of us.”

“Do you not mean the right thing by you?” snapped Mariam, standing up.

Abaros responded to the accusation with a glare toward Oncelot, who, with an outstretched hand, motioned Mariam to return to her seat. Her face tightening, the Queen sat back down and folded her hands.

“If I may offer some words of my own,” said Lady Isabel, a high-ranking member of the council. She was a slender woman with bright red hair and freckles.

“Please, Lady Isabel. Speak.” Oncelot calmed himself.

“Has it not been written that Siroco will bring Corin out of the darkness?” She cleared her throat.

“I am sorry to disappoint you, Lady Isabel,” interrupted Abaros. “But the legend of Siroco is just that: a legend.” He stood up. “It states that he will be the savior of Corin and will help our Lord Baran regain his planet. But what do we really know about him? His last known whereabouts was on Tyranis, just after the war ended, when he was merely a child.”

“I know of that legend, too,” said General Kratz. The whole council continued to pay close attention to the conversation. “It is said that on the last night anyone saw him alive, he fled Tyranis and has since roamed the galaxy. Some also said that Siroco was actually one of the immortals, who never age after reaching maturity. Mere rumors and whispers, as with all great legends. The story of Siroco is nothing more than a myth. Since his disappearance on Tyranis, there has never been another sighting of him or his mother.”

“So you see, Lady Isabel,” said Abaros. “The legend of Siroco is not something we can rely on. It was five thousand years ago that he was last seen. If he is indeed an immortal and still alive, it will be near impossible to find him, unless he wants to be found.”

“But what do we do?” asked Lady Isabel. “We certainly cannot carry on like this.”

“Please let me answer your question,” interrupted Oncelot. “Ladies and gentlemen of the council, as your king, I have to protect you and look out for the best interests of our beloved planet. The truth is, we are desperate, and we should not be. To be lowered from the most powerful planet in the galaxy to this… It is a great evil. Abaros is correct. We have to act, and we have to act soon. What I am about to decree is not an easy thing for me, but I believe it to be necessary to restore our standing among the worlds. We will reclaim our place in history, and the actions I command now will be remembered for centuries to come. I hereby charge you to gather every firstborn male of Corin to stand hither as a human host for the hyper lords. Without the wisdom of the gods, we know not which humans will reject the bond, so we put them all through the trial.”

An echo of whispers swept the room, and a worried look crept across the council members’ faces.

“But, my Lord King,” shouted General Kratz. “I stand by my words that we need to resurrect the gods, but I did not mean this. The ritual will kill any host the hyper lord rejects.” The room remained in silence, and General Kratz approached Oncelot. “We must also remember that any human who successfully bonds with a hyper lord will never again regain his human form. It is a death sentence to anyone we subject to the trial, even if it succeeds.”

Oncelot pondered the general’s words, running his fingers though his beard. Finally, he met Kratz’s stare. “Yes,” he said. “Even though we will lose some of our own children in the ritual, and though it might take a thousand or ten thousand attempts, Baran will have his path to return. Through the blood of our sons, will our glory be reclaimed. I know of the risks, and my decision stands.”

“I think it is a show of hypocrisy,” screamed Lady Isabel, “to ask for the lives of all the firstborn men of Corin, while you hide your own son, Ramon, behind your throne!”

“I have no intention of hiding my son,” replied Oncelot fiercely. “I will offer him like the rest.”

“What?” screamed Mariam. She looked at her husband in shock and disbelief. “I will not let you sacrifice my son, just to please Abaros’s warmongering. Never!”

“With all due respect, my lady,” said Abaros. “It is not your decision to make. It is the king’s and the king’s alone, and I believe he has already made it.” The smirk had finally left his face.

Oncelot turned and gave his wife a long, affectionate look before facing the council members once again. “I have made my decision, and that is my final order. This planet will once again be ruled by the gods. Go now and bring me all the firstborn males of Corin.”

“But who will we resurrect, your majesty?” asked General Kratz. “We have no indication or prophecy as to whom we need to bring back first. Remember that the hyper lords can only bring back their direct masters.”

“I am aware of that, which is why I will be bringing back Simus, the Hyper Lord of Sand, the only being that can resurrect Madoron, who, as you all know, is the source of my bloodline.”