Bloodless

by Roberto Vecchi

  They watched men rise and fall. They watched kings and queens delve into their own attempts to replace the bond they all longed for, a bond with something so resolute, so devoted, and so pure, there was no room to question the things that were never meant to be questioned; things like worth, esteem, value, belonging. For just as free will is a condition of His defining love, so too are those. Yet all the races sought after them as if they were earned through deeds instead of given through Grace. So, while they sought after the promise of mortal purpose and its derived value, they fell further and further away from the love that breathed life into them for the sole sake of that love. They fell fast, they fell far, and they fell hard. So hard, in fact, that in His attempt to redeem His creation and raise it up again to the level of divinity made mortal, He gave them His very Child.

  Born unto them was His Son as a living, breathing, completely mortal, yet powerfully divine Man who existed only to die for them, bear all of their misguided sins into the realm of Hell, and rise again to restore them into His divine presence for all time. Yet so far had humanity fallen that they did not even recognize Him when He was standing right next to them as one of them. So transfixed were they upon their own expectations of what a Divine King should be, that when He did descend to earth for them, they mocked Him, tortured Him, whipped Him, and killed Him as if He was a common thief. And even when it was finished and He used His last and final breath to speak the last mortal words He would ever speak, He did so out of a forgiveness harboring no animosity against their ignorance because He knew He was meant to redeem even those who killed Him.

  Upon His death, when He fulfilled the purpose of The Christ, after He was resurrected to enter Heaven as the last and final sacrifice for humanity, The Five gathered to deliberate their future. So disgusted had they become with what they had come to know about mortality that the first and only Council of Dragons was assembled to discuss whether or not they should remain in the physical realm, or leave mortality to its own devices. Regardless of their decision, they would still exist, and as such, the framework of creation over which they governed would be maintained, but they did not need a physical presence within the world to fulfill their responsibility. Although the argument was made that Jesus had to die only to be resurrected in order for the veil to be torn away and Grace to be restored to the world, it was the manner of His death that spoke to the lost condition of all people, a condition so hopeless that the Dragons could no longer abide its continuance. So, they left, but not completely.

  It was thus decided that they would use their considerable power to open a rift between the mortal world and the immortal world allowing them to enter the divine nature of immortality and exist completely within the spiritual construct thereby releasing all aspects of their physicality as defined by such common words as mass and bodies. However, largely at the insistence of Molorok, they conceded that to leave the world devoid of their physical presence would render their hope for its redemption as nothing more than just a word without the substance of their faith in their God and Christ. And because faith without subsequent action is not faith at all, they each consented to leave part of themselves behind.

  As the construct of time, Oross chose to leave himself behind in the totality of divine knowledge possessed throughout all of time. Eclesthina, who embodied the individual expressions of all, chose to leave herself behind in the musical engagement of the mortal voice. Xendara, the benefactor of space, chose its ultimate manipulation as her vessel and imbued her power into, and therefore created, magic. Understanding the sacrificial nature of mortals, Molorok implanted his essence into selfless sacrifice, as embodied by the greatest of mortals, Jesus, The Christ. And Lacorion, the perfect representation of God’s immortal spirit, found no more perfect object for his essence than the immortal soul within a mortal being. Hence, his essence found its home within man, a single man, a man named Eriboth.

  He watched as this mortal baby, a human baby with a dragon’s soul, was set to drift down the relentless currents of the Trindonovorn River by his parents, left to be found by someone removed from their concern. And though he worried for the safety of the little mortal baby, he could not interfere. To do so would be to claim greater knowledge than that of God himself who’s plan exceeded all others. So, he sat, in silence, in prayer, and in confidence that all would be according to his Creator’s will. And when the baby was found by nothing less than the Queen of the elves, he rejoiced and praised God for His care and concern.

  But things were not easy for his progeny. Being a man existing within the strict culture of the elves would have been difficult for even an adult let alone a child. Although every effort was extended by the king and queen to ensure he felt a great sense of belonging within his new people, the elves were still mortal. As such, they were still fallible. Through no greater fault than the nature of mortals, he was shunned in the shadows of jealousy and diversity. And while he was extended every courtesy an elven prince was entitled to in the open, behind the silhouette of locked doors and drawn shades, he was mocked.

  “Dramos ascuum,” (They come) said a voice from behind him, interrupting him from his thoughts.

  “Dra ascenti,” (My thanks) he said in response. Though The Five were created first, just like Adam, who was created a complete soul possessing both male and female within, God understood it was not good for any physical being to exist without the accompaniment of another. And while they would have been content to exist singularly as the only representations of themselves, God knew that isolation was not a condition love was capable of abiding. So, just like with Adam, he pulled out of each of the Five aspects of their perfect expressions that which was necessary to create the perfect companions for them. And with that came the innate direction to create more replications of what God deemed worthy to create Himself. So, just like man, they multiplied.

  “Dramos lungo aplori?” (They wait where), asked the voice again.

  “Dramos lungo enon,” (They will not wait) he said patiently, “Dra tocca dramos.” (I will meet them).

  Throughout the recorded time of mortals, when they had first mastered the written art of communication, the mere existence of The Five had been enough to ensure the mortal’s condition of continuance. Even when Lucifer, The Light Bringer, fell and introduced evil to God’s creation, the confidence of The Five in His everlasting goodness remained unshakable. Mortals were nothing if not persistent in their survivability through any and every condition presented to them. Somehow, they always found a way. But then, The Five should have expected as much for they were created from He Who Is And Always Will Be so it was reasonable to understand that those He created, would always be as well, even if in different forms.

  The Five had watched throughout the ages as mortals repeatedly rose to confront any and all forces and entities who tried to impede their progress whether by subjugation or outright elimination. However, not all of these forces were foreign. In fact, most rose from within their own mortal world and many times, within their own races. Though any war brings turmoil and upheaval, those involving two or more of the mortal representations within their world did not seriously challenge their existence. Yes, their ways of life would be changed, but they would continue to progress even if that direction was drastically changed. Only once before were they attacked by an entity of power outside of their mortal realm. Yet, even when the beings they referred to as The Unyielding attacked, mortality found a way. The cost was great and history’s line of progression had been forever changed, but they still survived without the intervention of The Five.

  However, because of his deceptive nature and innate power, they did not observe the beginnings of his plans until they had already grown roots deeper than even the Tree of Life. Perhaps it was a moment of arrogance, or perhaps it was a moment of faithlessness, or perhaps they did not truly understand the demise and subsequent hate he held for God and everything that was His. But there was one thing they had come to know; it was by design. Lucifer, God’s
purposed Bringer of Light, he who they branded Satan, had created an environment perfect for his taking.

  The world was not ready for this. They were equipped not with the necessary immortal resources sufficient to defend their world against something that was so utterly not of it. Understanding was essential to ensure a favorable emergence from any conflict, but because he and his realm of hell existed outside of the governing dynamics of mortality, the people of the world could not possibly hope to replicate their victory of ages and conflicts past. Not even the greatest threat they had ever known, The Unyielding, presented such a potential for destruction. So now, faced with a foe that was beyond their understanding, beyond their hope for understanding, should they be expected to face it alone when those who were responsible for their continued existence did nothing to equip them and prepare them with the weapons and defenses necessary to let hope reign? And so, The Five were gathering for only the second time. But this time they would not deliberate their own future, but the future of everything mortal.

  Had they been contained within the physical world as they were before they chose to leave, they would have had to gather in one of the most remote places of the world because their size was so immense, no other place would have physically allowed them to gather. However, in this plane of existence, the Astral Plane as it was named, journeys and travels were not so much measured in physical distances as much as they were measured in depths of souls and corners of minds. So, their close proximity to each other occupied no more physical space than a thought or smile. However, a gathering of such all-encompassing governing dynamics, even though they were not anchored to the physical realm, was not without its impact. For when they joined their souls into the collective consciousness required for a mutual gathering, the normal patterns of weather were slightly more intensified, emotional responses were a little sharper, memories were either slightly more or less vivid than normal. Indeed, for just a moment, life itself seemed just a little more alive.

  “Dramos aplori Dra,” (We are here with you) said the deeply green consciousness of Molorok.

  “Dra ascenti,” (My Thanks) he said acknowledging the other four. Within his soul and mind, he felt the presence of them all. Molorok, the representation of all Order in the physical realm, Eclesthina, the embodiment of Expression, and thus individuality, Oross, the governance of Time, and Xendara, the presence of Space all projected themselves into a singular unity wherein each could speak without voice and hear without disruption. As such, they existed, in this moment, as one but still The Five.

  “Dramos huun dra dego,” (We know what must be done) said Lacorion, taking the lead in the deliberation.

  “Dramos dego?” (Do we), asked Oross. “Oross co Ergoss dra,” (Time and creation will be).

  “Ergoss co enon entendi,” (Creation with no intent), replied Eclesthina.

  “Dra dagos,” (It is true), consented Molorok.

  “Dra enon dagos,” (It is not true) said Xendara. “Dramos dra enon penitoss,” (We must have no presence).

  “Enon dramos penitoss, Ergoss dra enon entendi,” (Without our presence, Creation will have no intent). “Co dra enon entendi, Egross dra enon Godrago,” (And with having no intent, Creation will have no God). With that statement, Lacorion resolutely ended any and all debate, for all of them understood that regardless of all other factors, there must be God. Because intent, true intent of a divinely objective nature, is the perfect essence of creation and reflection of Love in all of its objective totality, its alteration or abject removal would end creation’s existence as a reflection of Him, thus removing Him as its central gravitational focal point around which all things functioned. As a result, a new center would be found replacing God and his standards as the beginning and the end. And with that new center, that new master, creation would lose any and all hope for becoming what it was always intended to be.

  After a period of silence while The Five attuned their collective intents to Lacorion’s statement, Oross spoke, “Quess dramos dego conteni? Dramos enon poranno.” (How do we proceed? We have no return).

  “Dramos enon, ado dramos godok co entendi,” (We have none, but we have power with intent) agreed Molorok.

  “Drabe esthoss molorose dramos suun,” (It is through mortality we rise), spoke Oross.

  “Dra dagos,” (It is true) said Lacorion.

  “Dra dagos,” (It is true) said the others.

  As he felt their consciousnesses fade from his own, he felt somehow less. That is not to say he felt lacking, because he was anything but; however, the combined effect of reuniting with the other Four of The Five gave him a sense of completeness he could not attain on his own, no matter how complete he had been made. After all, anything less than God Himself was not complete to the same degree of objective totality He possessed.

  As he gazed through the dimensions separating him from the mortal realm, he saw the holder of his soul standing opposite a woman of impeccable beauty, if the race of men can be called beautiful. His hands were raised in a pose of surrender, though he still held his sword. As he dropped it to the ground, he saw her raise her two blades to his neck, but did not strike. She paused, hesitating in a moment of consideration. But that moment was not long lived and neither was he. She sliced through life and love as her blades sunk deep enough to end his mortal form.

  But life did not end with the passing of one’s mortality. No. With the movement of his intent and power, Lacorion, the director of all things immortal, reached into Eriboth’s life and pulled forth his soul, a tarnished, dimly greyed silhouette of a fleeting mortal’s search for belonging and acceptance. It housed pain as tightly as the bindings of armor were latched on the breastplate of a knight before he engaged in battle with the understanding that if it slipped even a fraction of an inch one direction or the other, flesh and bone would be exposed, and death could result. So completely had he held onto it, that it had even become part of his mortal identity. Such a grip of unholy proportions could be loosened by one thing, and one thing only. As such, The Great Gold Dragon, The First of The Five and Presiding King, lifted Eriboth’s soul and placed it gently at the feet of The Christ, and prayed.

  “Godrago, Cristun co summos dra suun Eriboth a Draplori (God, Christ, with humility I raise Eriboth to Your place). Dra ascuum enpritis, shumastis co enon entendi (He comes broken, shattered with no intent). Ado, co Godrago Gratis, dra entendi poranno a Godrago entendi co dra quess dra,” (But, with Your Grace, his intent will return to Your intent and he will be what he should be). Cristun co dra prasuuco. Cristun co dra fata,” (With Christ I pray. With Christ I believe.)

  He knew that, through Christ, his prayer would be honored and answered, for it aligned with The Creator’s intent. But that is all he knew, all he needed to know. Given to him were the dynamics of the spiritual realm, the immortal realm. So, he knew the effectiveness of prayer though its alignment with God’s will as prayer’s power and movement was wholly immortal. But just as mortality existed in a state of action, so too did immortality. As he released his prayer, he also released any and all concern regarding Eriboth, for to hold on to it would mean his faith had not been activated and his prayer would not be heard. And as such, it would not be answered. So, the Great Gold Dragon let go of Eriboth, in the confidence and solidity that when Christ returned him to mortality, He would do so in a manner that prepared Eriboth to be Lacorion’s mortal influence in the realm and allow him to embrace his dragon within.

  Though time for the elves, and everything within their culture, passed differently than for the rest of mortality, he could not deny his feeling that it was increasingly fleeting, regardless of how slowly he, and they, aged. As such, time’s finite consequence of limitation was not often on the forefront of their minds; yet for him, so much had changed so rapidly that things in his past, even those from his childhood long removed from his present, seemed as if they resided in the caverns of his mind reserved for only recent events. Walking through this part of the forest, The Great Green For
est, provoked many memories of home. And the closer they progressed to the city of Lrossiduun, the more prominent those memories became.

  As a child, during the season of great rains, he spent much of his time with his cousin’s family, the governing family of the City in the Trees. Unlike his home of Meckthenial, Lrossiduun was constructed entirely out of and in the trees. Probably because it was easier to carve, through magical means of course, homes and buildings out of the immensely large trees in this part of the Great Green Forest than to cut them down and remove them, the elven wizards utilized their considerable knowledge of them and manipulated them into a structure of connected, raised pathways similar to the roadways of grounded cities. So, in the place of a cobblestone road, there were magically hardened wood pathways wide enough for several people.

  Another feature unique to this elven city, and a direct result of the vertical nature of their landscape, was its three-dimensional appearance. Meckthenial, as well as all of the other great cities of other nations, except perhaps those of the dwarves and goblins whose cities were largely underground, occupied a massive area of land. It was much easier to expand outward then it was upward. However, because trees naturally grew up, the ruling nobility of Lrossiduun expanded upward before outward, choosing to include additional trees when and only when the trucks of those already in use had become too thin for practical usage. The result was a complex system of ramps and spiral columns connecting all levels of the city. At night from a distance, when it was illuminated by the elven mage lights, it appeared as though the stars had descended from their distant perches to graced the forest with their presence. But greater still was the effect when walking through its pathways. The lights seemed to come alive creating the illusions that one was actually walking among the stars themselves.

  Lrossiduun was ruled by House Leptilon, a minor house that was vaulted into nobility when one of their sons married into House Dordrosis a few generations ago. Through a series of unfortunate and untimely deaths, that son, Temboril Leptilon found himself as Lord of House Leptilon, and consequently, Lrossiduun itself. And while there were other houses whose claim might have been stronger, because of his marriage to one of the daughters of House Dordrosis, they were given the Rights of Lordship. It was during this time, when House Leptilon ruled, that Eriboth often found himself in the intermittent care of his great uncle, Lord Trosboril Leptilon. However, that was a long time ago, and although House Dordrosis had survived a coup once before, in large part because of Eriboth’s actions during the Red Retaking, he was unsure of the welcome he would receive. After all, regardless of how independent the separate elven cities operated, he had still killed their King.