The Castes and the OutCastes: The Complete Trilogy

by Davis Ashura

  “All sins are forgiven through Devesh's holy grace,” Mother corrected in Her typical pedantic tone.

  “Devesh is a myth,” Lienna countered. “All deities are.”

  “Are you a myth then as well?” Father asked. “Your Baels and Chimeras worship You as though You were their Goddess.”

  Lienna paused, surprised by Her Father's presence. She hadn't heard His voice in weeks, and as before during His previous long absences, She found Herself missing Him.

  However, be that as it may, His question was still irritating. “I am as I am,” Lienna said. “There is nothing more to Me that I need explain.”

  “Then with Your own statement, You stand condemned as a murderer,” Father challenged.

  Lienna figuratively ground Her teeth at his insulting words. She wanted to scream at Him, prove Him wrong, shut Him up for all Time. But She couldn't. That way led to loss of control, and control was needed right now. Lienna grappled with Her anger, and somehow managed to maintain Her grip on patience. “Insult me however You wish, but mercy can only be offered to those who deserve it,” Lienna said, proud of how calm and reasonable was Her response.

  Father chuckled. It was as horrifying a sound as Lienna had ever heard. Where was the distance and foolish fixation on the Baels that She had come to expect from Him? When had He become so lucid and aware? His response and His laughter were exactly how Father might have spoken if He were still alive. Lienna was so distracted by what all this might mean that She almost missed it when He began speaking again.

  “Devesh's comfort is all around You,” Father said, His words softly spoken and sympathetic. “His mercy is available with every moment of Your life. Beg His forgiveness, and it shall be given.”

  Lienna grimaced in annoyance. Always Devesh. For once, couldn't Father do something other than speak of Devesh? The Simpleton. Lienna disregarded Father's piety and wrapped Herself in the cloak of Her certainty and disdain. Her Parents weren't alive. They couldn't be. She'd personally seen to Their deaths. It had been millennia since They had last breathed Holy Arisa's air, and forever would come before either of Them took another breath.

  “Your illusions don't cause Me fear, and Your sophistry won't dissuade Me from My plan,” Lienna intoned.

  “Your plan?” Mother asked, Her tone dismissive. “How many innocents will die because of Your plan?”

  “There are no innocents,” Lienna snapped. “And I do what I must because Arisa needs My protection.”

  “You think Me so weak then?” Mistress Arisa's voice whispered. Her voice was the dry rustle of a snake's scales gliding across dead leaves.

  Lienna pulled up short. “Of course You aren't weak, Mistress,” Lienna said. “You are Glory Incarnate. You are My—”

  Goddess? Father asked with another chuckle. “I thought such a being was a myth.”

  Lienna's mind shuddered. Fear gripped Her by the figurative throat. Only rarely had either of Her Parents spoken in a fashion as to imply that They were aware of Mistress's presence. Now, Father did just that. It was terrifying. What if Father truly was still alive?

  “Your Father is nothing but a worm, You groveling Idiot!” Mistress Arisa said, interrupting Lienna's thoughts. “Remember whom You should always fear!” Her words were spoken in Her typical contemptuous fashion. They cut into Lienna like the ends of a barbed whip. “I am Your Goddess!”

  Lashes of pain bit into Lienna's mind. She howled for a seeming eternity as the agony went on and on, and She clutched a courage She didn't know She possessed. It slipped through Her grasp, but She reached for it again. This time, She gripped it tight. She held it close and with it, Lienna did something She'd never before accomplished. She threw off Mistress Arisa's torment. She frayed apart the bands of baneful hurt as if they were wispy spiderwebs.

  “I refuse to be afraid of You!” She shouted. “You are not My Goddess, nor are You My Mistress. Begone Shades. All of You!”

  Silence greeted Her rebellious cry. No further voices clamored in Her mind.

  Lienna exulted in Her accomplishment, and as distracted as She was by Her sudden freedom, it was with surprise that She came upon a small clump of Humans. Upon seeing Her dread presence, they rightfully howled in fear even as they sought to hide themselves in their Blends.

  Lienna grinned lightning.

  It wouldn't work. She could see their Jivatmas. Little Humans with their little hiding places, but there were no hiding places from Her. Lienna saw all, just as a Goddess should. She laughed when a few even sought to harm Her with their ineffectual arrows and Fireballs. Some sought to run.

  That couldn't be allowed.

  Lienna lashed out to stop those who fled. With Her actions, all Her suppressed rage rampaged to the surface of Her mind. Anger overwhelmed thought. Lienna tore apart the vermin, utterly and completely. It was over in moments, and the world was as silent without as it was within Her mind.

  Lienna hovered over the forest meadow where She had brought ruination upon the Human parasites, and afterward considered more carefully the meaning of the revelations about Father that had come to Her moments earlier.

  She hovered unmoving above the meadow and lost track of time. Her mind circled endlessly, but eventually, She returned to awareness. Whatever the truth about Father's situation, Lienna realized that nothing had truly changed. She still had work to do.

  Lienna rose up from the meadow and rolled on toward Ashoka.

  Aia's head unconsciously tilted to the side as she watched the purple-colored cloud move away from the meadow. Her ears were cocked forward in interest, but her eyes were narrowed in confusion. The cloud floated at the level of the treetops and drifted against the wind. A single flicker of lightning lit it up from within. When it did so, eyes, red as fire, appeared to light to life. The lightning faded and the eyes slowly dimmed.

  The entire scene before her seemed unreal, like a strange dream or vivid nightmare. There were the torn apart Humans, their caked blood and body parts scattered about like a banquet for a vulture. Then there was the strange cloud in the sky. It didn't move like a real cloud at all.

  A scent came off Li-Choke: abject terror.

  Aia's eyes widened as she realized what she was seeing. She crouched low and growled in fear and warning because it felt right to do so. She'd seen this frightful cloud once before. It was a year ago now. This was the being who had murdered Jessira's home.

  *The Demon Wind,* Aia cried out.

  Shon and Thrum growled, but they too hunched down. Li-Choke also bent low as fear roiled off all of them.

  *What is She doing here?* Shon asked of the Bael. He sounded a moment away from panic.

  Choke didn't answer at first. He absently brushed at Shon's forehead, soothing Aia's brother as the big Bael stared thoughtfully in the direction where the Demon Wind had floated off. The Queen was no longer visible.

  *What is She doing here, indeed?* Choke asked, still appearing thoughtful rather than panic-stricken. Aia was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

  The fear no longer boiled off of the Bael. He'd mastered his terror, and Aia took heart from his courage. Shon apparently did as well. Her brother leaned his head into Choke's hand, rumbling softly like a kitten.

  *What do we do now?* Thrum asked. During all this, he'd crept forward until he was pressed close between Shon and Aia. She licked his forehead, and her brother, so often arrogant and sure of his coming greatness, ducked his head under her chin.

  *She's heading toward Ashoka,* Li-Choke mused. *She must be doing as She did when She killed Jessira's home. She must be murdering all of Ashoka's scouts so they can't expose Her presence.*

  *But why now?* Thrum asked. *If She means to destroy the city, where are Her Nobeasts that would aid in the killing? Shouldn't they be here as well?*

  *And how could She even get into Ashoka? I thought the Oasis kept Her out,* Shon said, right on top of Thrum's words. *Aren't the Nobeasts the means by which She destroys the Oasis?*

  *No one knows how
She destroys an Oasis,* Choke answered, sounding distracted. *But, yes, the Chimeras are meant to help with the sacking of a city. And, no, they aren't here, but they should be if Mother truly meant to destroy Ashoka.*

  *Perhaps She no longer requires them,* Aia said, having a sudden insight. *You said the Demon Wind can now see through the Blends the Humans use. If so, then is it not possible that She can now overcome an Oasis without the help of the Nobeasts?*

  *Perhaps,* Choke said, but his tone was doubtful.

  *Or maybe She's here because of that claw of Nocats that passed us by a few days ago,* Shon suggested.

  Aia frowned in thought. *Didn't you say that you smelled a Human amongst them?* she asked Thrum.

  Choke's gaze snapped to her. His expression was fierce. *A Human?* He demanded. *Are you certain?*

  *Thrum has the best nose of any of us,* Aia confirmed. *If he says there was a Human, then there was a Human.* She paused. *Why is this so important?*

  Choke didn't immediately answer. He kept staring in the direction the Demon Wind had departed. Eventually, he shook his head and rose to his feet. *I don't know if it is important, but of this I am sure: Mother is heading toward Ashoka,* he said. *We have to find a way to warn the city. If nothing else, there may be more Humans beyond the bounds of their Oasis. They will be easy meat for the Queen.*

  Just then, Aia gasped with a horrifying realization. *I can feel Rukh,* she said.

  Now it was Shon and Thrum whose eyes snapped to her.

  *That shouldn't be possible,* Shon said.

  *And yet it is,* Aia growled, anxiety making her irritable.

  *But we're so far away,* Thrum protested. *How can you feel anything? Ashoka's Oasis has always diminished our sense of our Humans. You shouldn't be able to feel anything from Rukh at this distance. I can't feel anything from Jaresh.*

  *Nor I from Jessira,” Shon added.

  Aia had stopped listening. Terror rose. Her ears flattened, and she snarled. *He's outside the Oasis.* Idiot! What was Rukh doing outside the city where it was so dangerous?

  She reached for her Human, straining to make her voice heard. *Rukh! Run. The Sorrow Bringer is coming!* Again and again, she shouted her warning, praying to the First Father that Rukh would hear her words. Once more she shouted for his attention.

  The Advent Trial had begun, and the warriors of Rukh's command, Black Platoon, had struck out into the forest that grew along the slopes of the hills west of Ashoka. As directed, they'd followed a narrow deer trail west for a quarter mile before striking north. Slowly and carefully, five groups of four men eased their way forward. The warriors were alert even though it was unlikely that they would encounter enemy elements in the forest. Typically the Advent Trial was wholly waged on the plains beyond the Outer Wall—but it never hurt to be cautious, especially if units of the Northern Star had come up with a plan similar to that of the Southern Cross.

  If they had, then they were likely suffering the same problems as Black Platoon. Rukh glanced around in worry. Their pace was far slower than he had expected, and he couldn't help but wonder if he should have offered up the Blacks for this unproven plan of his. The northward-bearing animal trail upon which they travelled was as thin as a rat's tail. On all sides grew a dense understory—heavy with pine, juniper, and azaleas—and it made for slow going with barely enough room for even a single warrior to pass along it.

  When Rukh had scouted out this trail a month ago, he had found that it eventually broadened out. They should be able to move more swiftly then. Hopefully, they'd come across that widening soon.

  A little ways to the east, though, things were likely vastly different. There, on the broad plain beyond Ashoka's Outer Wall, platoons were even now racing north. Of course, those other units were Blended, and for those watching from the heights of the Outer Wall, this action—the swift movement of men—would have been invisible. What those watching would have witnessed would be very little. There would be few clues to indicate that anything was untoward on the plain beyond the Outer Wall. The sight of displaced grass and small puffs of dust might be the only signs proving the passage of the platoons.

  It had to be deadly dull, at least Rukh remembered it as such. There was nothing to see or sense, and there would be nothing to see or sense for many more hours to come. The forward elements of the two armies had miles to go before they encountered one another. Of course, they eventually would, and when they did, battle would be joined. Then there would be something to see.

  By convention, when two enemy platoons came in contact with one another, they dropped their Blends. The Kummas would fight with Constrainers and no use of Fireballs allowed, while the Murans and Rahails would fight without Blends. The only weapons the warriors would use during such conflicts would be the blades on their backs and the bows in their hands. It would be skill on skill alone, with little use of Jivatma to sway the contest. However, to prevent severe injury or death, the blades were obviously shokes, and the arrows covered by a heavy wad of cloth steeped in a red dye. A strike from one of them would leave an obvious mark and bruise, but they wouldn't kill. For further safety, hundreds of judges patrolled the field of battle, calling out the 'dead' and wounded while Shiyen physicians attended those injured in the mêlée.

  “The trail widens out about a hundred yards ahead of us,” Corporal Chopil said, breaking Rukh's thoughts. “We should be able to make swifter progress then.”

  “Thank Devesh,” Rukh said with feeling. “Pass the word along to the rest of the warriors. As soon as we're there, I want us picking up our pace. We don't want to miss out on all the fun.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As soon as the trail opened up, there was almost an audible sigh of released tension from the platoon. They hadn't liked their slow progress any more than Rukh. Nevertheless, he was pleased to see them maintain discipline in spite of their relief. They remained alert and serious, but also loose and relaxed enough to grin at quiet complaints or bark hushed laughter at a jest. Rukh smiled when one of the Trims muttered irritated imprecations. A joke had likely been made at the expense of the annoyed warrior. It was how it was done. At least, it had been when Rukh had been a Trim.

  Once more came that sense of vast age, similar to what he had experienced earlier in the morning. A long stretch of endless years reached back in time, and the sensation divided Rukh from the men in his command. It left him thinking of them as little more than children even though they were only a few years younger than he.

  The weight of years pressed heavier, and ennui sucked at his soul. He was tired of the long life he had lived. He'd spent too many years in this world, sacrificed too much. It was time to pass on the burden of his duty to someone else.

  Rukh started. Where were these thoughts coming from? He was barely into his twenties. He wasn't an old man with a lifetime of memories. His brow furrowed in puzzlement, but a tremor in the sky caused him to look west. There was nothing there, but he sensed something moving in the clouds. It was familiar. The laughter of a sweet girl . . .

  He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He needed to focus on the task before him.

  *Rukh!* A voice, muffled and barely heard, briefly resonated in his mind.

  He frowned again. Had that really been a voice in his mind, or had it merely been his imagination?

  *Rukh!*

  There. It came again. From the south. Still softer than a whisper. He was still unsure what he was hearing, if anything.

  *The Sorrow Bringer . . .*

  Or maybe a shout from a great distance? Rukh slowed, frowning even more deeply as he concentrated on something he wasn't sure was real.

  *Rukh! Run. The Sorrow Bringer is coming!*

  Rukh's head snapped up, and he halted. Aia. She was west of him. He bent his head in concentration, listening for her words.

  *Rukh! Run. The Sorrow Bringer is coming!*

  Rukh's features went slack. This couldn't be happening. Not on a day when so many warriors were beyond the protect
ion of Ashoka's Oasis. The warning repeated, and the blood drained from Rukh's face. It was happening. Devesh save them. He took a moment to master his rising tide of fear before turning to Chopil and signaling the corporal. The Blacks stumbled to a jumbled stop.

  Rukh turned to the warriors. His thoughts raced as he planned out his next steps. He could hear Aia's thoughts from a maximum of a day's distance. Who knew how quickly the Queen could cover that same journey? An hour? Less. Whatever it was, it couldn't be much. The Blacks—and every other warrior beyond the Outer Wall—would have to drop all their equipment, conduct Jivatma without pause, and run to ruination. Only then might they be able to get through this alive.

  “Listen up, warriors. Aia, my Kesarin, has just sent me a warning. The Queen is heading toward Ashoka.” Rukh spoke in a calm, steady tone. He didn't let his anxiety show. He didn't want the Trims panicking.

  It worked. Perplexed murmurings met his words—fear as well—but there was no witless terror. Instead, the Trims appeared alert, ready, and willing. Rukh felt a surge of pride for them.

  “This Advent Trial is over,” Rukh continued. “Kummas, remove your Constrainers. Everyone discard your weapons. Shokes, bows, and arrows, anything that might slow you down. We're heading back to the city at best speed.”

  “But how will we defend ourselves against the Chimeras, sir?” a Rahail asked.

  “Fireballs will work against them, but otherwise, the weapons we're carrying aren't meant to kill. They're useless,” Rukh explained. “And even if we were fully armed, nothing can slow down the Sorrow Bringer.” A clatter of weapons hitting the ground met his words. Rukh turned to Chopil. “Send up the emergency arrows.”

  These were the signal flares, flaming green arrows carried by every platoon. They would relay the message to all the warriors on the plain that enemies were approaching. It would immediately end the Advent Trial. Every platoon would hustle back to the gate closest to them.