“Momma, don’t die!” my sister shrieked again.
“I told you. She’s not dying, Linna!” my father argued. “Look up at the Divine Mountain. See the light?”
Linna nodded, looking up through tear-filled eyes.
“The light means they’re coming to help us! They’re coming to help Momma! Everything is going to be okay.”
It wasn’t long after the fireworks stopped that the crowd quickly parted for a single regiment of royal guards, five men wide and twenty men long, as they marched out from the base of the Divine Mountain in a neat formation toward my family. Their molded blackbrass armor and the tips of their blackbrass spears glinted with a dull shine.
Long ago, the Church had perfected the forging of blackbrass from rare minerals mined throughout the mountains of Telshakra, using it for armor, weapons, and anything else to serve their own purposes. Blackbrass was so coveted for its strength and beauty that the monarchy claimed exclusive ownership over any minerals found, making it illegal for common people to possess even the tiniest amount.
“Ein be praised!” My father jumped up and hugged the captain of the Telshakran Royal Guard as the regiment finally reached my family. “My wife is in labor! She needs to see a priest! Bless you all for coming to our aid!” He laughed giddily.
The captain abruptly pushed my father to one side and clapped his hands. Upon his command, a small group from the regiment broke off and surrounded my mother and sister.
“Momma!” Linna shrieked as one of the guards picked her up and pulled her away from my mother.
“What are you doing?” My father growled as the guard rapidly marched by him with Linna in the crux of his arm. “Wait! Where is he taking her?” he snarled at the captain.
“Vim, help me!” my mother cried out helplessly.
By the time my father turned back around, the rest of soldiers had already picked my mother up under her arms and by her feet. And even though their grasp was undeniably sturdy, it was jarring to see a pregnant woman treated in such a rough manner.
“Hey! Tell your men to be careful with my wife!” my father barked as he watched the small group of guards insensitively haul my mother away from the scene. “What the hell are you doing? I thought you were here to help us!” My father’s eyes were filled with rage as he aggressively pushed the captain, nearly knocking him off his feet.
The captain regained his footing and stomped back toward my father, raising his heavily armored forearm and striking my father once across the jaw.
Everything went black.
~3~
When my father woke, he was under a thick blanket in a warm bed, surrounded by the soft glow of candle flames dancing gently against bare, unfamiliar walls. As he sat up, the left side of his face began to throb painfully.
“Hello?” he asked, blinking as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. He was confused at first, but the events of the night came roaring back to him. My father sprang too fast from the bed, instantly dizzy and pained. He sat back down again, gripping his head and shouting angrily, “Where’s my family?”
A small door opposite his bed creaked open slowly, and in stepped a man with a wrinkled face and a kind smile. He wore dark gray robes that were stained with blood and strange matter my father had no desire to identify.
“Hello, Vim,” the robed man said. “I’m glad to see you’re finally awake. Your behavior earlier this evening was a bit excessive, so we had no choice but to sedate you before bringing you into the Divine Mountain.”
“Where’s my family?” my father barked angrily as he stood up. “Ein help you if anything’s happened to them, Priest!”
“Shepherd…Machoji,” the robed man stated coldly.
My father’s demeanor instantly changed from anger to cautious frustration. Shepherds were the military branch of the Church’s organization. They had considerable supernatural abilities that were not to be taken lightly by anyone, especially a common man like my father.
“My apologies, Shepherd, but I need to know if my wife and daughter are all right,” my father demanded through gritted teeth, forcing himself to sound as polite as he could manage under the circumstances.
“They’re fine. Although you should be asking me about your son as well…” Shepherd Machoji smiled widely as he broke the news of my birth.
The room was silent as my father digested the words. His pained expression changed to exhilaration. His heart pounded faster and he laughed as he sat back down on the bed.
“I have a son?” My father smiled. His face hurt terribly to do so, but he couldn’t help it. “Oh, Ein be praised, I have a son! Is he okay? Is he healthy?”
“Yes, my friend. I saw to the delivery myself,” Machoji stated. “He’s a beautiful addition to the Voronto family. Now, get dressed and I’ll take you to see them.”
It was then my father realized he was naked. “Where are my clothes?” he asked, slightly embarrassed.
“They’ll be returned to you later. While you’re here, you need to wear those,” Machoji insisted, pointing to the neatly folded black robes at the foot of the bed.
“But—”
“Please, Vim,” the shepherd interrupted sternly. “This must be done, or you can’t see your family. Those are our rules.”
“No shoes, either?” my father asked, seeing no sign of his own shoes or a suitable substitute.
“No.” Machoji shook his head dismissively. “I’m sorry.”
My father thought it a little extreme, but he knew he was in no position to make demands. The Divine Mountain was not a public place. It was sacred and isolated; purposefully kept away from the common people of Telshakra. As he was a guest of the Church, my father had no choice but to comply with the shepherd’s restrictions. However, that didn’t excuse propriety.
“Um, do you mind?” My father nodded toward the door, blushing slightly.
“Oh!” Machoji laughed. “Where are my manners? Yes, of course. I’ll be just outside when you’re ready.” He opened the door a crack and slipped through, closing it behind him.
Dressed in his robes, his feet bare and freezing, my father followed Shepherd Machoji down a long dark, corridor that seemed to have been chiseled from a solitary stone. They walked together down the passage, illuminated only by the light from a torch Machoji had plucked from the wall outside the room where my father had awoken.
“Did she suffer during the birth?” my father asked nervously as they walked.
“I won’t lie to you. Irenea fought bravely through the ordeal, but I can’t recall any woman ever suffering as much during childbirth as your dear wife did.”
“But she’s fine now, right?”
Shepherd Machoji stopped in the hall and turned to face him. The flame of the torch between them lit their faces in shapes and shadows that made both men appear to each other as something both fantastical and monstrous at the same time.
“Vim, whatever Ein has in His plan for your family, you must accept and bear both the blessings and the burdens. A child born on the night of the Chiliad Alignment is a great blessing indeed, but all things must exist in balance. Your wife’s body will heal in time, but her mind, I’m afraid, suffered greatly during this birth. You’ll need to be patient with her. Show her as much support, love, and kindness as you can. It may take her several years to recover, if she does at all, but you must never forget that she suffers beneath the surface now.” Machoji bowed his head and continued down the hall.
My father stood motionless and terrified. He could barely breathe, lost in his own thoughts. She’s traumatized now? How the hell did this happen? This was a torturous concept for my father to accept, but he was quickly brought back to his senses when Shepherd Machoji had gotten so far ahead of him in the tunnel that my father was plunged into complete darkness. He ran after the torch flicker in the blackness.
The two men walked in silence until they reached a large underground cavern deep below the Divine Mountain.
“How much farther are we going?” My father’s voice echoed.
“Do you see that light on the other side of the cavern?” Machoji asked, sounding frustrated.
Far off in the distance, my father could just make out a small glow, softly illuminating a tall blackbrass doorframe. “Yes,” my father acknowledged.
“That’s where your family is,” Machoji declared impatiently, quickly continuing toward it.
But when they arrived at the door, my father could hardly believe his eyes as he realized the light wasn’t from a flame at all. It was a free-floating ball of orange light hovering just above an ancient blackbrass sconce.
As my father stood there, marveling that such an object could even exist, Shepherd Machoji waved his hand in front of a strange blackbrass sculpture molded into the heavy door, uttering words unlike anything my father had ever heard. Suddenly, a wave of intense heat radiated from the doorframe as it made a series of clicks, ultimately unlocking and creaking open to reveal a solitary chamber.
The ceiling was nearly flush with my father’s head, and he had to hunch slightly as they entered. The walls were built from large, fat bricks the width of my father’s arms and the length of his legs. The light from Shepherd Machoji’s torch cast an eerie glow upon the walls of the little chamber, making my father feel like they were explorers invading an ancient tomb.
In the center of the room was a round blackbrass table with ten symbols etched deep into the surface of the edge; representations of the Children of Ein. Each carving was filled with a different colored hallowed stone relative to its deity, and the stones within the symbols glowed softly, seeming to fade slowly like a candle ready to die. My mother lay on the table wrapped in a black sheet. She was curled tightly in a ball, facing away from where the two men stood.
“Daddy!” Linna poked her head out from beneath a pile of thick fur blankets in the corner of the room. She’d been in the room during my birth, but had wisely chosen to hide in the corner until the commotion ended. When she saw my father, Linna flung off the blankets and ran into his arms.
“Linna! Praise Ein, you’re all right!” My father hugged her tightly, kissed her cheek, and held her until she was once again calm. “Honey, I need to talk to Momma now, okay? Can I put you down for just a moment?” He looked into her eyes, red from hours of crying.
“Momma screamed really loud, Daddy,” she said, frowning.
“Yes, I would imagine she did. That must have been frightening for you to hear. But Momma screamed when you were born, too, and she got better real quick.”
“She did?” Linna’s face perked up a bit.
“Yes, she did.” He smiled. “So, you be a big girl and let me talk to Momma for a little bit, okay?”
“Okay,” she moaned as he set her down on the floor.
My father watched with pride as Linna obediently went back to the corner of the room and wrapped herself up in the fur blankets again, waiting patiently.
“Irenea?” my father asked nervously as he walked around the table toward my mother. She was staring down at the stone cradle where I lay quietly. Her eyes were ripe with tears. “Oh…oh, this is our son. Irenea, we have a son! He’s beautiful!” my father cheered as he picked me up and held me triumphantly.
“A great addition to Telshakra,” Shepherd Machoji added confidently. “A truly miraculous child born on a truly miraculous night. Ein be praised for the future of this boy.”
My mother began to cry.
“Oh, my darling…” My father was startled, but he was quick to remember Machoji’s words about kindness and patience when dealing with my mother now. He placed me carefully back into the stone cradle and then leaned in close to my mother’s ear. “You did wonderfully,” he said softly, gently patting her damp and disheveled black hair. “He’s a beautiful child.”
My mother covered her face with her hands and continued to cry. In that moment, my father had never felt more helpless and scared in his entire life.
~4~
My family was allowed to stay in a vacant priest’s quarters at the base of the Divine Mountain for the next three days, during which time people sent letters and flowers to celebrate the child born during the Chiliad Alignment. My mother, bedridden for nearly the entire stay, enjoyed a small bit of happiness in the scent of the flowers that filled her dismal little room.
My mother’s smile also grew brighter whenever she held me. My father sensed the bond between us growing stronger as she sang to me and nursed me each day. He hoped the suffering she’d endured to bring me into the world would soon be forgotten; however, the memories would live within my mother for the rest of her years, nestled in the darkest spaces of her soul.
Once my mother was again stable, the priests of the Divine Mountain wasted no time in swiftly clearing all the letters and flowers out the room and returning my family’s clothing to them, crudely hinting it was time for us to leave. The cool, crisp autumn air welcomed us as we exited the mountain, and my mother covered me up with a blanket and held me tightly in her arms, smiling and gently rocking me back and forth.
“Ein be praised!” Shepherd Machoji greeted my family as we reached the entry gates to the Divine Mountain. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you up and walking, Irenea.”
“Thank you, Shepherd,” my mother replied, distracted, never taking her eyes off me.
My father was embarrassed by my mother’s dismissive behavior toward their host. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for us,” my father said quickly, laughing nervously while reaching out to shake Shepherd Machoji’s hand.
Machoji smiled. “Of course, Vim. I was grateful just to be part of such a momentous birth,” he replied calmly, staring down at me.
Linna tugged on my father’s coat impatiently. “Come on, Daddy. I want to go home,” she pleaded.
“Just a minute, Linna,” my father said sternly. “In all seriousness, Shepherd Machoji, thank you. Your assistance with our son’s birth will never be forgotten.” Despite his feelings about the Church, my father was truly grateful for their help.
“You’re welcome,” Shepherd Machoji replied sincerely, signaling to the two royal guards standing at attention to open the gates and allow us passage.
Machoji subtly grabbed my father’s arm, stopping him momentarily. He leaned in close and whispered into my father’s ear. “Just remember, her scars are deep. Patience and support are my best recommendations for you and your family.”
My father sighed heavily, still not wanting to accept the shepherd’s foreboding diagnosis, yet knew he had no choice but to heed the warning. “I understand.”
“Good,” Machoji said firmly, releasing my father’s arm. “Now then, these men will escort you home.” The shepherd nodded to the royal guards. “Until Ein joins us again.” Machoji waved goodbye and walked back inside the Divine Mountain.
The royal guards stayed with my family until we reached our house in Quelstren, and my father was overjoyed to finally be rid of them. He knew that being back home in familiar surroundings would give him the best chance to help my family return to the peace and harmony of their normal existence. For a time, it did. But within few years, my mother grew increasingly distant from the rest of the family, slowly losing control to the demons that lingered just beneath the surface of her mind, and there was nothing my father could do to stop it.
Whenever I think back on my earliest years, I feel a tinge of guilt for putting my parents through so many stressful situations with my difficult behavior. I was merely a young boy who never noticed anything past his own little world, and I had no idea what my mother was going through. As the years passed, I learned that my mischievous attitude had continuously fueled my mother’s overprotective nature and was a well-needed distraction from the demons she battled in her mind.
One of the most vivid memories I have of my mother’s mental instability happened when I had just turned four. I was going to brush my teeth before
bed and found my mother crying in the bathroom. Her eyes were raw, and she was gripping the sides of the sink so hard that her knuckles were turning white. She didn’t seem to notice me, even though I called her name several times. I ran and told my father what was happening. My mother cried in his arms for nearly half an hour, muttering something about how he didn’t understand. Then, she abruptly ran into their bedroom and slammed the door, locking it behind her. An hour later, she reappeared, looking completely fine and pretending not to know what my father was talking about when he asked her if she was all right. I know my father would have done absolutely anything for my mother, yet no matter how hard he tried, he was never able to help her. This reality constantly ate at my father like a cancer, slowly destroying his heart and his soul.
On the evening of my sixth birthday during the Festival of Ein, my mother was having one of her better nights, and it was a night we would all treasure for the rest of our lives. I’d become a bit troublesome by then, and my parents often had difficulty keeping hold of my hand in crowded places, so that night, my mother threatened to cancel our family’s celebration unless I promised to behave.
“No! We have to go. It’s my birthday!” I whined, believing I was entitled to whatever I wanted on the day of my origin.
“I know it’s your birthday, Vigil,” my mother said as she looked into my eyes and buttoned up my coat. “But I need you to promise me that you’ll behave tonight. We don’t want a repeat of last year…now, do we?”
“What happened last year?” I asked, slightly confused.
“You chased down one of the dancing Shamai and threw pebbles at the poor man’s headdress.” She cocked an eyebrow and gave me the tone of voice that all children hear at one time or another. I knew she meant to be intimidating, but I had to try hard to keep from laughing.
“Oh, yeah!” I said with a giggle.
“I’ll have none of that this year, understand? Promise me that you won’t let go of my hand.” She took my hand in hers and patted the back of my fingers while giving me a stern but pleading stare.
Burden of the Blessed Page 2
