Riel nodded thoughtfully. “We shall
talk later, Ravi. For now, the Council awaits.”
The four of them walked down the
gentle slope to the hollow below. Adesina counted three dozen Council members,
not including Sitara. All eyes were fixed on Adesina as she approached.
Sitara led them to the center of
the crowd, and the Council members seated themselves formally.
“Sitara, Handmaiden of the Creator,
name the one whom thou hast brought before the Council,” commanded a clear and
ringing voice.
Adesina turned and recognized the
willowy figure she had seen in her Dreams in the desert of Zonne. It was
Toraun, the leader of the Immortal Council. His golden hair and pointed face
were untouched by age, and his four arms were folded across his chest in a
stance of strength. However, his eyes were weary, as if they had seen many
years and many trials.
Sitara placed a soft hand on
Adesina’s shoulder. “I present to the Council Adesina, the Threshold Child.”
A collective sigh of relief seemed
to pass through those who had gathered.
“At last,” said a large rock-like
creature. “The fulfillment of the prophecy is at hand.”
Adesina felt distinctly
uncomfortable.
Thirty-seven sets of eyes were
fixed on her, as if expecting some sort of speech or ceremonial gesture.
Instead, the young woman stood
still, doing her best to appear calm.
Sitara broke the uncomfortable
silence. “Adesina, do you know the prophecy of the Threshold Child?”
Adesina nodded.
The memory of the prophecy rose up
in her thoughts. When she had first heard it, she had only been told a
portion—the only part known to the L’avan people. Then, through her visions of
the past, she had finally heard the prophecy in its entirety.
Every word was clear to her, as if
seared on her mind.
Thus
speaks the Creator—listen well:
Tragic days lie ahead, born from the pride of my children.
The conflict between Light and Darkness is far from
resolution,
in spite of what may seem to be a reprieve.
The Blood of my heirs shall be wantonly spilt.
The earth shall cry out in pain and sorrow.
The benighted years of silence shall only be broken
when the Child of the Threshold stands on the brink of
eternity—
when a life is freely given in the purity of love.
Only then will the path leading to the Light appear.
The Sacrifice will stand as a bridge between Light and
Darkness,
spanning the worlds and cleansing each of ancient hatreds.
The Sacrifice will bring both destruction and salvation,
like the purifying flames of a forest fire.
In the moment of truth, the Sacrifice shall become the
Child of the Threshold,
ushering in the Era of The Return.
Look, therefore, to the advent of the Threshold Child.
One who is of this people yet not of this people.
One who bears all gifts, Dreams as friends,
sees as the enemy and shall be called the bird of prey.
This is the one who stands on the Threshold of a New World.
This is the one who will save my children from the slow
destruction of their atrophy
and lead them back to the light of their purpose.
Sitara’s voice brought Adesina’s
thoughts back to the present. “Do you understand what it means?”
Adesina shook her head. She didn’t
know what all of the prophecy meant, but she felt the weight of it on her
shoulders. The sense of responsibility pressed down on her and her mind whirled
with feelings of inadequacy. She was the Threshold Child, and she was meant to
do all that was stated in those divine words.
Sitara’s tone was solemn. “It means
that we Immortals have lost our way, and the Creator has provided a beacon to
guide us back to our path.”
Adesina frowned. “You mean that I
am the beacon?”
A derisive snort could be heard
from behind the young queen. “Perhaps,” rasped a sibilant voice.
Adesina turned to see who the
dissenter was among the Council.
The owner of the voice was very
tall—Adesina estimated that the top of her head would only reach his lower
chest—and his form was narrow and lithe. His hairless head was slightly oblong
and it was set on the end of a long, snake-like neck. His grey skin shimmered slightly,
like granite, and he wore a flowing robe of dark blue that covered his arms and
legs so only his hands and feet could be seen.
The crowd of creatures parted as he
walked forward to stand before Adesina. Some of the members of the Council
seemed to stand up straighter as he passed, as if he lent them greater
strength. Others turned their bodies away from him, as if he carried some
loathsome disease.
Adesina noted that the speaker’s
eyes were very small and that his nostrils and ears were no more than slits on
his head.
He spoke again in a voice that bore
the undertones of a hiss, but was quite unlike the sound of any serpent. “You
may give your trust blindly, Serraf, but we Laithur do not. Your desire for the
Threshold Child is so strong that you would grant that name to any newcomer to
this realm.”
Sitara’s expression became frosty.
“And your reluctance for the coming of the Threshold Child would blind you to
any evidence of the truth. Look at her, Brother Ruon. She is a child of
humanity, and yet she has transformed into a Serraf. What more proof do you
need?”
Ruon sneered at Adesina, as though
she were unworthy of standing in his presence. “Much proof is needed before the
Laithur pledge to follow this…being.”
Toraun shifted his weight uneasily
and plucked at his golden beard with two of his four hands. “Brother Ruon, the
day of our trial doth come to an ending. Our numbers dwindle, and it needs be
that all Immortals join hands in friendship. We have not the luxury of standing
divided at this crucial time.”
Ruon made a sweeping gesture with
one of his long, thin arms. “Well, you will certainly get no cooperation from
the Shimat demons or those that follow them,” he snapped in irritation. “You
are fortunate that any of the Dark Brethren agreed to attend this meeting
today.”
There were several mutters of
approval at his words. Adesina began to notice a division among the Council.
The division didn’t seem purposeful or organized. It appeared to be a
separation between races, something that may have occurred gradually over
countless years. Uneasy glances—hostile glances, too—were exchanged between
groups that stood with their backs almost turned to one another.
Adesina’s eyes darted back to
Sitara, looking for her reaction to this turn of events. The leader of the
Serraf wore an expression on her face that spoke volumes of her reluctance to
have anything to do with the so-called Dark Brethren.
“The followers of Darkness are not
the only ones who have given in to their doubts,” piped up a tree-like
creature. “I do not see the Kiorssan or the Melyd here today. I am certain
there are others missing as well.”
Ruon, who was looking defiant and
confrontational, appeared mollified by that statement. “There are Immortals of
both Light and Dark that have not given heed to the instructions of the
Ancients. I suppose we that remain will have to suffice for what is to come.”
“What isssss to come?” asked an
enormous serpent with feathered wings. Adesina recognized it as a member of the
Qetza race.
Sitara’s voice took on a timbre
that was heavy with meaning. “The arrival of the Threshold Child signals the
end of one era and the beginning of another. She will show us the path that
will lead us back to our true purpose—the one given to us by our creators.”
“And those who have chosen not to
join us here today?” asked a creature that looked like a horse made of flames.
All eyes turned to Toraun, the
apparent Council leader.
“They who choose to stay on the
lower plane shalt have no place in the New World,” he answered. “All must ascend
to a higher state of being in order to move forward.”
His statement brought even more
tension to the gathering. It was palpable in the air.
Adesina silently pondered what had
been said. She could safely surmise that Ruon was a demon, and it surprised her
to see a demon at this council. Her eyes turned to the other strange faces that
surrounded her, and she wondered how many of them were also demons.
She couldn’t guess based on
appearances. Cha-sak and the demon Adesina had fought in Zonne had looked evil
in every aspect. She had formed the assumption that demons must look like
monsters. Ruon, however, did not look evil at all—strange, but not evil. There
was a graceful sorrow that surrounded Ruon’s lithe figure, and his small black
eyes glittered with a bitterness that seemed justified—the bitterness of being
deeply wronged.
Adesina was impressed that the
Council members could come together to form this alliance, in spite of what was
clearly a long-time animosity.
Several of the unusual faces in the
crowd appeared concerned with what Toraun had just said.
“Are you saying that some of our
brothers and sisters will be left behind?” rasped the rock-like creature.
Toraun spread all four of his hands
in a beseeching gesture. “All Immortals have been extended the invitation to
join us on this day—even our Shimat brethren. The division that shall take
place at the dawn of the New World will not be our doing, but that of those who
choose to abandon their purpose.”
Adesina frowned thoughtfully.
How
many will be left behind?
Ravi’s mind answered hers.
There
are thirty-seven races represented here, and legends tell of one hundred
Immortal races being born. There are some races that are no more, such as the
Gaiana. Others, such as the Shimat, have given themselves completely to
Darkness.
Adesina’s frown deepened.
And
others will simply be left in this realm, abandoned?
Ravi didn’t appear to have an
answer for her.
Adesina’s attention was caught once
more by the lively discussion of the Council.
“We cannot
force
anyone to
join us, Brother Syss. Individual choice is a gift of the Light, and to take it
away is an act of Darkness.”
Syss, the Qetza representative,
twitched his feathered wings in agitation. “That issss not what I wasssss
sssaying, Ssssissster Chaholand.”
Toraun raised his arms high above
his head and called for silence.
“Please, my brethren and sisters,
let us not quarrel. Our efforts to convince those who are absent from this
gathering shalt double during the time we have left. For now, there is
something of greater import.”
An expectant hush fell over the
Council, and Adesina looked around in confusion. All eyes were once again on
her, riveted on her young face.
Toraun approached her, his willowy
form swaying with a slow grace. Sunlight reflected off of his golden hair and
beard, and a breeze stirred the robe he wore. Adesina was surprised as he drew
closer. She expected him to be taller, but his head was even with hers. Perhaps
it was simply magnitude of his presence that made him seem larger.
“All Immortals wert created on the
same day,” said Toraun in a soft voice that was meant only for Adesina’s ears.
“The Blessed Ancients lent their powers to the Creator, and there was a great
celebration of Life when all was completed. On that day, the Creator told of one
final child of the Ancients that wouldst be born—one last Immortal created. The
Creator decreed that this last born Immortal wouldst be our leader in our time
of greatest need.”
Toraun’s piercing gaze bore down
heavily on Adesina.
“Thou art that child, Sister
Adesina. Thou shalt be our leader.”
He placed two of his hands on her
head and the other two on her shoulders. He raised his voice as he continued,
so all could hear his words.
“I pledge to thee my life and my
loyalty, so that my strength shall be thine. Thy fate shalt be mine own—thy
triumphs my triumphs, and thy failures my failures.”
Adesina felt a rush of warmth surge
from Toraun’s hands and through her body. She felt strangely lighter, as if a
burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
One by one, each of the other
Immortals came forward and recited the same oath while either touching her head
or her shoulders, or both. Each time, Adesina felt the flash of warmth and
lightening of her entire being.
The early ones to follow Toraun
were eager to pledge themselves to Adesina. However, as the faces passed before
the young L’avan woman, they seemed less and less certain in what they were
doing.
When Ruon stood before her, his
small eyes were narrowed with skepticism and he waited long moments before placing
his cold hands on her shoulders.
“I pledge to you my life and my
loyalty, so that my strength will be yours. Your fate will be mine own—your
triumphs my triumphs, and your failures my failures.” He removed his hands and
added, “I suppose there are worse things than failing on the side of Light. I
just pray you show more promise in the future than what I see now.”
Adesina’s temper flared and her
fists clenched into balls at her side.
Ravi sent soothing emotions through
their connection.
Do not let him bait you, Ma’eve. He wishes to start a
fight.
I would be happy to grant him
his wish,
she thought back angrily.
Sitara was the last to stand before
Adesina. Not a trace of doubt darkened her lovely face as she gently laid her
hands on Adesina’s head. All of the negative emotions that swirled inside of
the L’avan woman’s head dissipated in the light of Sitara’s smile.
The Serraf leader spoke the oath
slowly and with purpose. The words somehow took on a new and deeper meaning,
and Adesina felt her
vyala
swell from the core of her being.
What just happened?
Ravi’s mind was just as uncertain
as Adesina’s.
I…think you have become the
leader of the Serraf.
Sitara smiled as if she understood
their thoughts and gave the briefest of nods. Adesina stared at her in
bewilderment.
“And now, little sister, we must
make haste,” said Sitara calmly.
The heads of the Council members
standing around them nodded in agreement.
Adesina frowned slightly. “Where
are we going?”
Sitara’s smile was both sad and
determined. “We are going to win your world back from the Darkness.”