From within the fog of hate and anger, she felt she recognized the old angel. She peered at him.
“Little Wing, you have to let go of your hate. Let is pass over you like water on rock. If you don’t this will have all been for nothing. You must trust me Sam.”
His voice called to something deep within her, but the power of her anger had cleansed her identity from her like fire. It purified the weaknesses and had forged a blade of insurmountable power.
“My beloved father.” Her voice was laced with disgust. “Does the afterlife treat you well?”
“Samsara, relent from this path,” he said.
“This path? You speak as though I chose this. I chose nothing. This is your doing. Are you not proud father? Do you see what your daughter has become?”
Samsara flexed her wings again and the power of the stone gripped the other champions strangling them and binding them in the stone. Their bodies began to sink into the stone cavern. They wailed and screamed in excruciating pain.
“With this power I can tear the Grove from this world. I can right the wrongs, I can fix all that you and the Nemeton have broken. Do you not see? I can end it all!”
“Sam, I know I failed you in life, but I will not fail you in death. I am sorry that I was not there, to hold you when you cried. I am sorry I was not there to save our people from the Cursed Grove. I am sorry that I left this burden upon you. If you must damn someone, do not damn those who have fought by your side. Do not fall as men fall. Rise above them. I believe in you Little Wing. If you must unleash your hate and anger, unleash it upon me. End this evil and become who I know you are meant to be.”
Samsara cast the gnome aside and walked towards the spirit of her father. She gripped him by the throat. He choked and gasped. Her power had begun to transcend the realm of the physical. The stone of Fal fed her downward spiral.
“Do it Samsara, let it go.” he whispered.
Samsara squeezed. As she did the power of anger and loathing that infected her dissolved into the spirit of Madan. His once blue form twisted and snapped into a darkened red and black form as it absorbed her terrible burden. He did not scream or wail, but smiled at her as arms from within the stone floor rose to drag him into the depths of the void.
Samsara’s eyes returned to normal and in a desperate attempt to save her father’s spirit she clawed at the stone floor. Her wails filled the air. Her power over the other sacrificed diminished, and they fell to stone floor gasping for air.
Samsara wept, “Father, I…”
The stone gently thrummed resuming its normal black color. The clamoring stopped. All the champions could hear was the heavy breathing and dying gasps of their fellow champions. Then she heard it.
I am proud of you Samsara. You have succeeded where I have failed. Show them. Show them all how to Rise so that no more fall.
The sting of what she had done ached within her heart. She had damned her father to an eternity of abuse in the darkness of the void. All because she could not relent from her path of vengeance. This was the lesson she and the others were meant to learn. This conflict that had consumed them all had driven them into the madness of war. Samsara stood and wiped her face of tears. She looked around her at the other champions.
“Do you not realize that we fall to same foolish game as every single ancestor before has? We are fighting a way that none of us have ever had cause to.”
She looked at their faces. “Can’t you see we are merely pawns in a much bigger game, a game that they we are not required to play?”
Samsara watched as they came to and looked at the blood on their hands. The surviving faces displayed the horror of the realization. Samsara got up and looked at them all.
“Look at yourselves,” she said. “Is this how champions act? There is a darkness that descends upon us. Why do you cut down our strongest warriors? What comes for us outside of this trial is far larger than man against Fae. It is far darker and far more sinister than any of you can imagine. I know, because I have seen it. I have fought it, and it does not die. But we do. If we decide to kill ourselves here and now, to die by the blades of our brothers and sisters. Then we resign ourselves to being little better than slaves. My people were as such once. Man many believe they are now. You Fae are slaves to your fear. Fear of what man might do. What lies beyond this tunnel will not distinguish man from Fae, it will not rest until its revenge is fully sated, and if it achieves that aim, there will not be man or Fae, there only be more of this, from now until all men and all Fae have spent their last drops of blood. There are still two more challenges for us to face, and by what I know of this, if we do not act as champions none of us will survive what we are called to do.”
The champions looked to her. She was the youngest of them, and yet her grasp of the larger issue somehow had far outstripped their own. Her silence had ensured she stayed under the radar until now, and she had grown tired of their incessant bickering over trivial matters. She looked at them all and waited for a reply.
Lugh was the first to respond, “The young Seraeph speaks with wisdom beyond her years. This is but the first of three trials. The Nemeton will not cease to test our resolve. They are the balance between man and the Fae. We should act as such. If we do not, none of us here will survive, and all we fight to achieve, whether it be for man or the Fae will be for naught.”
Samsara breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the combatants lower their swords and help each other up. She smiled at Lugh, they held a quiet moment looking at each other, feeling as though they had passed the test. It had been a long road. Three days wandering in the dark, against impossible odds. They’d lost fellow champions, but now it was all over. Sam closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath and heard the words of her father.
Our destinies are forged within the fires of our deeds. Sam hoped that she had forged a destiny he would be proud of. She saw his face, he smiled at her and she knew he was at peace. She was his legacy, and she was not going disappoint.
When Samsara opened her eyes, she noticed a change in Lugh’s expression. Before she knew what had happened, Sreng had driven his sword through the back of the Aélf. The other’s watched as Sreng grinned. His sword covered in the black blood of the Aélf, who gasped for air as the blood filled his lungs. He pulled his sword from the Aélf and walked towards the Seraeph and spit at her feet.
“Peace? You think that’s what the Nemeton wants? You are all more foolish than I thought.” he grinned at her. Samsara’s gaze turned to rage as she realized that this test would not be done with her yet. She readied her steel as did everyone else.
“Rally men, let’s finish them here and now!” Sreng barked.
The remaining men backed towards his position, and Samsara noticed the same dark energy engorging their eyes. She couldn’t believe that it was going to end this way, there had to be another way. Sreng thrust his blade into the air and bellowed a loud war cry.
The gnome had come out of hiding and was now within reach of Sreng’s blade. Sreng swung his sword but before it found its mark the brute dropped the blade. His eyes dropped to see a steel blade that stuck through him like a spear through a wild boar. Sreng looked down at the blade and grinned while it receded from his body. He looked at Samsara one more time before his head fell to the stone at his feet. Behind the blade was Prince Bres, who had not fallen victim to the darkness this time. He said nothing he wiped his blade of blood and said a prayer to the Goddess. The Blessed Daughter of Sumer came to her senses. Bres looked at the corpse of Sreng and picked up the small talisman that hung around his neck. He tore it from the man’s neck and tossed it to the ground and smashed it with the pommel of his sword.
“I saw Lord Ensí give him this. He must have enchanted it, by some unholy magic.” said Bres. “Gods I have been such a fool.”
Lugh had gone to help Neith to her feet. “We all have been brother.”
Samsara let out a sigh of relief.
From the stone came forth the spir
it of Arawn the Dragonlord of the Deep. He strode forward with a hound at each side. This time his appearance did not frighten them as it had before. There was a sense of completion that fell over them. He walked past them towards the wall that had joined the tunnels of light and darkness into one. He raised his arms above his head and called forth a portal in the stone. It glowed with a bright blue hue, then he turned to the champions.
“You have survived and proved yourselves worthy of the spirits within the Earth. The Trial of Calas has come to an end. What you have faced in the depths of this Earth has forged you all into weapons against all who would stand against the Goddess. Step forward and receive the gift of my cauldron, and rise from this place within the dark renewed by your purpose.”
His voice was powerful, it resonated within Samsara. The champions entered the portal. On the other side was a great bubbling cauldron. As if by instinct the champions drank from the waters of the cauldron.
The first to drink was Manannan Mac Lir. Samsara watched as he drank the water. His eyes closed and his body transmuted into the luminous figure of stallion made of water before he returned to its normal state. He smiled, Samsara knew because he now knew something deeper about his true purpose. She watched as each one of them processed the information before her and she wondered what hers might be.
The gnome summoned forth an eagle while Neith summoned the humble hardworking bee. The Blessed Daughter of Sumer summoned forth a wild leopard, and the Prince Bres summoned a noble ox. Lugh stepped forward and shined brighter than the rest when he summoned an enormous raven made of sunlight. He smiled and walked towards the other champions making way for Samsara. They looked at her with awe and respect. She’d called them back to their senses.
Sam stepped forward and dipped the chalice into the cauldron. It warmed and burned as she swallowed. She felt the water enter her and call forth a deep and powerful sensation. She hung her head for a moment absorbing the experience and contacting the totem that the waters called forth. Each of the other champions called a totem that represented their strength, knowledge, and nobility. As she felt the spirit within her surface, she felt a great swelling of power and surety. Her body went limp, and she perceived herself leave the body to take the form of her spirit animal. Her hands were no longer hands, her eyes morphed as she saw the hidden depths of darkness. She felt the pads of her paws grip into the dirt as she saw a gazelle bound across an open plain. Then she struck with all the power and grace of a lioness, a hunter in the dark. She roared and shook the chamber that held Arawn’s cauldron, displaying the beast that lived within her. She closed her eyes and let the roar vibrate every cell in her body. When she opened her eyes again, she sensed the power integrate into her. She stepped to the side as the other champions had done, feeling empowered.
Arawn addressed them with a final roar, a great bellow so powerful that it opened the stone and Earth behind them carving a path towards the surface. Each of them stood in awe of the power of this underworld creature. They stood before the being that kept the darkness at bay, beyond his realm was the void of primordial force. They had braved a fraction of that force in their three day journey among the darkness. Each one had seen horrors that would forever change them and emerged stronger.
“Return now to your world, as champions of your people. Take what you’ve learned here and strengthen yourself against what awaits you next. Your journeys are far from over. For now, enjoy the celebration of your rebirth as members of the hallowed order of the Nemeton.”
As they turned each one stopped and turned to Samsara. They beckoned her to lead them into the light. She was humbled by the gestured. Sam started up the path and the rest of the champions followed up to the narrow passageway towards the light. It was faint but they could see a difference. Dawn was soon to be upon the land, and the people would be waiting in the fields around the hill. They would have fasted for three days and nights in prayer for the safe and successful return of their champions. Samsara’s heart ached for the champions that fell in the darkness. So many had been lost in the pointless bloodshed. Though they would walk into the dawn with seven souls still standing, the eleven souls that died beneath the Earth would forever be with her. Though her journey was not over she rose into the light prepared to uncover what went wrong and who was responsible for the deaths of the champions, her father, her people. When she did, they would pay more dearly than the thirteen who fell to the Trial of Calas.
The sun breached the horizon casting massive rays of hope into the crowds of pilgrims below the hill. The champions all stopped short of the exit and looked at each other. Lugh grabbed Samsara’s hand and that of Bres. The people would herald them as heroes and champions, but they would forever be bound to each other by something greater. Samsara wondered exactly how long their show of unity would last before they were once again torn apart and set at odds against one another. The next trial would undoubtedly bring out the worst in them all. She set aside the feelings of dread for a moment. They stepped forward into the light and before the people as not simply as survivors but true champions. The crowds gazed in awe of their survival. They stood glazed in sunlight like gods. She could hardly believe how loudly the people roared.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Nastas, the pure blood Apostate
Death holds no chains,
For she who roams the celestial plains,
Divine sacrifice is repaid.
The darkness was vast leaving no clue of where to go. Nastas wandered without aim. The champions had left the underworld and emerged among the living. They had been a light for him to cling to. As soon as they stepped into the light of the world, the lights went out for Nastas. Now he was trapped, alone in the darkness. He had followed their emotions, clinging to each as tightly as he could. This place resisted him, his spirit felt gale force winds pressing against him. He hopped from soul to soul whispering in their ears. He had only spoken in the ears of the Fae. The men had an energy hanging about them that kept him from influencing their will.
He’d gone into the void blind, without a clue of what to do. In fact, he was unsure if he could have an impact, but he had to try. He felt Samsara leave this place intact. He attached himself to her, hoping to ride her out of this land into the light. When she did he was torn from her and cast into an endless darkness. The warlock had warned him. Nastas disregarded the warning, the stakes were too high. In his hubris he’d fooled himself into believing he would outsmart the Lord of the Deep. Never had Nastas been so wrong. All about him was a vast empty with no edge. He’d run for what seemed like hours, finding nothing. He screamed, but he made no sound.
“It has been many thousands of years since a man dared to invade my lands” said an ominous voice.
Nastas looked around him, but he saw nothing.
“I had no choice,” said Nastas.
“There is always a choice,” said the voice.
“I had to save her, I made a promise.” he said. “Without her the Goddess will remain in the Abyss.”
He appeared before Nastas in a burst of light. Nastas had never seen such a terrible sight, he tried to look away, but he had lost all control over his spirit. The warlock had told him there was no forgiveness here. Arawn was the ultimate power here, and nothing challenged his will.
“How does a man come to know this?” said Arawn gripping the throat of Nastas. “Answer me son of Atum.”
Nastas choked. The cold grip of the Dragon Lord burned through him. It was unlike any pain he’d ever felt. It was an emotional, a spiritual pain that sapped his will to exist. He struggled against it, but the more he fought the stronger the pain became. It coursed through him.
“I command you to speak truth unto me,” said Arawn before letting his grip go. “What you have felt is but a taste of what I will deliver upon you.”
Nastas could feel his spirit recover. “I came on behalf of the Goddess.”
“Speak sense, why would the Goddess send a living man to my realm?” said Arawn.
“To ensure the Seraeph survived the sin of men.” said Nastas.
He could feel Arawn’s eyes examining him for the truth. Never had he felt so exposed. “There is no safety, no place, no being that can be spared from man’s sin. You were sent on a fool’s errand young shaman. Ever the fool, will man ever learn their lesson?” Arawn lamented.
Nastas watched Arawn paced, he assumed he was devising some form of torture. “I beg your forgiveness Dragon Lord. I did only as the Goddess commanded. I surrender myself to your judgment.”
“You expect me to believe our divine mother sent you, a man to break the sacred laws. No living soul may enter this realm. Only those who enter by way of the Conclave may pass through this realm. Long have you men sought to exploit the power of this world. Your greed knows no bounds. Long ago your kind came to my hallowed shores and tried to bind me. Do you know what became of those arrogant men, those who crowned themselves Kings?”
Nastas shook his head. “I cast them into the Abyss and barred them from ever reaching the lands beyond my domain. I denied them passage into this realm as I deny all men whose hubris and greed seek to supplant the natural order. There are rules, and the rules must be obeyed. When those rules are broken, chaos may roam free of its bonds. You of all men should know, I sense in your heart you have seen what I speak of.”
His memory recalled the visions of the Abyss. The realm without order, without form, the endless spiraling chaos of the Abyss. He shuddered at the thought. He looked at Arawn, the Dragon Lord’s eyes saw right through Nastas.
“It is men like you who lust for knowledge, for power who cause this. Were it not for your endless meddling chaos would remain bound. Do you not see your folly young shaman? Can you contain this lust within your soul?”
He hung his head in shame. Nastas knew the answer, and he feared the truth would damn him. There was no fixing it, there was no redemption. He was flawed as all of his kind were. There was no escaping the truth.
Nemeton: The Trial of Calas (Hallowed Veil Book 1) Page 44
