The Blight of Muirwood

by Jeff Wheeler

  Lia was amazed to learn she herself had come from Idumea. It was her home, the place of her first life. So many times she had heard of her existence as a “second life” – that she was born as wretched, but it was not her beginning. There was a place before that, a place where she lived among the Essaios. How could she describe herself? A spark? A floating ember? A spider’s web of immateriality that lived among the Essaios, so fragile, so delicate. An intelligence. An awareness clothed in a substance as faint as a shadow. To become an Essaios, she would have to leave Idumea. Her shadow-self would have to come to a fallen world with no memory of her former life. All were equally ignorant. None were given the advantage of remembering their life in Idumea. She was promised – they were all promised – that if they would be calm and listen carefully, they would hear the murmurs of the Medium guiding them back. The Medium would aid them and assist them if they allowed themselves to be tamed by it. In order to tame it, they must first be tamed by it. If they followed the whispers of the Medium, it would teach them how to craft buildings of sculpted stone that would become a link back to the world of Idumea and allow their return.

  That thought was profound and amazed her. Muirwood, as with the other Abbeys, was a gateway back to Idumea. And not just to Idumea but to any of the other millions of worlds where there were enough mastons to build them. Each generation of maston families grew stronger and stronger with the Medium until at last a new generation was strong enough in the Medium to banish death. There would come a time when the chain was strong enough that two mastons, joined by an irrevocare sigil, could use the Medium to bring all of their ancestors back from the dead, in bodies remade into the race of the Essaios and together cross the threshold back to Idumea and join the ranks of others who had so done. It had happened in Muirwood already, she suddenly realized. The stone ossuaries that had washed away, revealing nothing but grave clothes and wedding bands. The Essaios cared not for trinkets of gold or cemetery linen. Nor did they want to linger behind on a fallen world. Unseen, they had entered the Abbey and crossed the Apse Veil back to their true home.

  That was the destiny of her race, she realized. It was the duty that compelled Colvin – to be part of that grand chain, that link that would make it possible for himself and his family to conquer death. She knew that it was part of her blood as well. Was it possible then that her parents had been joined together by an irrevocare sigil? Or at least someone from their ancestry?

  The knowledge she was given went beyond anything she could fully understand. It smothered her with possibilities. Yet she was so happy, so full of the intent of what it meant. But the Aldermaston was not finished. There was more to the history than she had been told so far. With the burning desire still inside, she listened as the information began to shift in darker tones. Yes, Idumea was a place of beauty and power. But occasionally, rarely, there were those shadow-selves, like she had been, that wanted to become Essaios without delay, without earning it. Beings that learned how to force the Medium to do their will instead of submitting their wills to it. Just as there were millions and millions of stars and worlds shimmering and sparkling, there was a balance, an equal portion of dead things that would not progress, would not grow, would not enter the cocoons of birth and transform. There were those that turned so much inside themselves that every speck of light was smothered even though they could not die of it. Rather than coming to the world cocooned in a babe’s body, they had been flung out of Idumea – cursed for their wickedness and cruelty. They were banished to the very worlds where the scions of Idumea were coming alive.

  Lia understood Colvin’s comments now. The Myriad Ones were not the dead. They were the Unborn. They were the sparks, the gossamer threads, the shadow-intelligences that were too wicked to be born, too selfish to create, to wild to tame. And they had a Queen.

  Lia watched in horror. Yes, the Myriad Ones would never be born, but they were cunning and devious and twisted truths to suit their purposes. They were led by a Queen named Ereshkigal who hated the Essaios for banishing her and her followers and swore she would destroy the Abbeys, to prevent anyone from returning to Idumea. Anyone. To further her cause, she created an order, just as the Essaios had created the order of mastons to build Abbeys and bring people back to Idumea. They were called the hetaera and they only accepted women into the order. They were taught to hate the mastons, to murder them, and destroy the Abbeys. The hetaera were the hidden power behind kings and emperors who they manipulated all to their ends. In every land, in every realm, they existed – some in secret and some openly. The hetaera forged the kystrels and used them to entice, through the Medium, others to do Ereshkigal’s bidding.

  Without being told, Lia realized that Pareigis, the Queen Dowager, was a hetaera. And just as assuredly as she realized that, she knew that it was she who had driven the old king to murder the mastons. A hetaera was the equal of a maston in using the Medium. It was a frightening thought. Only one of the race of Essaios was more powerful.

  Lia realized the risk then. If she chose to become a maston, she could qualify ultimately to become an Essaios. She could also be murdered for becoming one.

  The Aldermaston did not make that final conclusion, but she realized it nonetheless. She understood now the risk that she faced. If she proceeded to the Rood Screen, she would get the chance to pass the maston test. Or she could walk away, keeping silent the knowledge she had received and wonder for the rest of her life if she had made the wrong decision.

  “Do you seek the rights of the mastons?” the Aldermaston asked her softly.

  She remembered when she had first met Colvin, wounded on the tiles of the kitchen. How she had noticed his chaen shirt and recognized his fear of being killed. Somehow he had managed to live with the fear. Could she do any less?

  “Yes,” she answered firmly.

  * * *

  The Rood Screen was beautifully carved of oak, stained dark like blood. Tall wooden slats ran straight up and down but the tips were connected into intricate arches. The wood was twisted and sculpted with decorations marked with maston symbols – the offset squares forming eight-point stars. Each ridge of wood, the junctions and the trim were all beautifully carved out and polished. Between the slats of wood hung misty white shrouds, preventing any glimpse of what lay beyond though she discerned there was a light Leering beyond and which made the soft sheets glow brilliantly. Hesitantly, she looked at the Aldermaston.

  “You must proceed on your own,” he said in a whisper-like voice. “I will wait for you until you return.”

  She bowed her head and nodded weakly, wondering what would await her. What challenge would test her? What would it mean? Her mind was so full already that she did not know how much more she could endure.

  At the center of the Rood Screen was a wide section, a doorway. The Aldermaston motioned her towards it, and she stepped softly towards the gossamer fabric. Her hand trembled a little as she reached towards and parted the curtain. As she stepped through, she was jolted with the full force of the Medium. It made her knees wobble and tears stab her eyes. The room was beautiful and carved from stone. It was circular in design with seven stone pillars, each carved into the shape of a Leering. The one directly opposite was of a bearded man and it gripped her attention. It was more than a man’s face, it was a robed body with one arm lifted towards the sky. The image transfixed her, drawing in her eyes, wondering at its meaning – and then she remembered seeing the Aldermaston perform the maston sign while saving Astrid from death. There were other Leerings as well, one of a lion, another of a sheep. Another of a snake. She looked at the others as well. A blazing sun. One of the Leerings was a twisting vine, with flowers and leaves. The last, a bull with horns. Each was sculpted to the smallest detail, with craftstmanship beyond anything she had seen. Between each of the pillars were walls of marble with carved insets with white stones on them. The stones shined brilliantly, illuminating everything in the room. Not every gap between the pillars were stone however. The one behind
her was made of the white linen shrouds. Two other shrouds were on the far wall, between the pillar with the bearded man with the lion on one side and the sheep on the other.

  The floor was a mosaic that dazzled her, but in the center of the room, inset into the floor, the lip and ridges of a stone ossuary that went below the ground. The lid of the ossuary was open and shoved partway aside. In front of the shallow pit was a wide stone bowl and before that, a bundle of white linen.

  Lia wondered what to do, but the ossuary drew her eyes and she cautiously approached it. It was long but not very deep and inside was a stone slab – a bier. The bundle of linen was the first thing in front of her, followed by the bowl, and then the ossuary. The Leerings stared at her and she could feel their eyes on her, boring into her. Watching her stand there, gaping.

  She advanced slowly. The thought of rushing about was abhorrent to her. There was power in this place beyond anything she had felt before. The ossuary was not deep, but it looked disturbing. What was an ossuary doing in the middle of the Abbey? She looked at the white bundle. Were they graveclothes? What was she supposed to do?

  The thought came quickly to her mind, as it always did. Everything was arranged in a certain order. She knew the billowy curtain on the far wall was the Apse Veil. It was her objective to cross it. Before she could, however, there were things she needed to accomplish. The linens were first, so she guessed that it was required for her to put them on. She knelt by the bundle of fabric and unfolded it. There were two pieces, she discovered. A beautiful white chemise with designs along the shoulder as well as the hem. The designs were threaded in silver, more beautiful than anything she had beheld. The other garment was a lacy shroud that was longer than the chemise, like an outer garment. She had to wear them, she realized.

  Looking around with only the Leerings to look at her, she slowly removed the learner robes. She trusted her instincts, but she was still nervous. She fingered the edge of the chemise and realized that it bore the same markings she had seen before – and had seen on Colvin’s chaen shirt. Was the maston custom different for women than it was for men? She did not know. Anxiously, she pulled on the soft chemise. She still worse the necklace with the ring threaded through it. Images from that night flooded her memory. Graveclothes found near empty stone ossuaries. She stood and straightened the fabric. The chemise was shorter, but the laced garment was full and deep and it extended down to her wrists and coiled to her ankles on the floor. It fit her like a gown, surprisingly. She folded the learner robes left them in a bundle by the basin.

  Lia stared at the bowl and noticed a Leering carved into the bottom. She knelt in front of it, looking at the simple face carved there. With a thought, she summoned its power and it filled with clear, cool water. In her mind, she heard it speak – a woman’s voice. Bathe your hands, arms, and face.

  Lia obeyed, cupping the cool water in her hands, washing them and then her arms. She cupped water in her hands and lifted it towards her face, but it felt…wrong. That was not the way to do it. She gripped the edges of the bowl and then pushed her face into the water.

  The Leering’s eyes flashed with light and she felt a calm, peaceful feeling. Its words were barely a whisper. Lay on the bier.

  Lia rose from the bowl, her face dripping and she felt clean, refreshed. Gazing down into the ossuary, her heart spasmed with fear. It was not deep. It was not menacing. Yet there was something about it that terrified her. She gazed at the bowl’s edge, wondering what to do. Would the lid close on her, trapping her beneath the Abbey? What would happen? The fear was so strong, she felt helpless as she stared at it. But a thought murmured through the blackness, reminding her of where she was. Feelings were caused by the Leerings themselves. Gazing into the hole, she saw them, engraved into the walls surrounding it. Fear, uncertainty, strangeness, anticipation – all these emotions blurted out from the Leerings, warning her to go back. They were strong Leerings, but no stronger than any other she had faced. With a thought, she silenced them. The peaceful feeling returned.

  Lia approached the edge of the ossuary, staring down at it curiously and then descended onto the stone slab set in the middle. She lay down, crossing her arms over her chest and waited. The Leerings were tamed. An insight struck her. The ossuary represented death. So many fears shrouded it because there was no telling what would happen next. It was the uncertainty of it, the anticipation, that made it torturous to ponder. Yet as she lay there, she realized it was but another step in her progress. And not even the most important one. As she lay still, pondering, she heard the seven Leerings carved into the pillars awaken and begin to speak to her. They each had a different voice, but they blurred together as they asked her questions, repeating them over and over, until it was nearly a babble. The images of their thoughts flooded her and she struggled against the feeling of drowning. There was no way to untangle them as they rushed her.

  Will you live in piety towards the Essaios? Will you observe justice towards all men? Will you do no harm to any one unless the Medium commands you? Will you always hate the Myriad Ones, oppose them in all things, and assist the righteous causes? Will you live a life of purity and forsake every pleasure except with your husband? Will you show fidelity to all mastons, and especially Aldermastons in authority? If you become an Aldermaston, will you at no time whatsoever abuse your authority, nor endeavor to outshine the learners either in your garments, your speech, or any other finery? Will you be perpetually a lover and speaker of truth and reprove those that speak falsehoods? Will you will keep your hands clear from theft, and your soul from unlawful gains? Will you never discover any of these doctrines to others, even should anyone should compel you so to do at the hazard of your life? Will you preserve the tomes belonging to the mastons? Will you safeguard the names of the Essaios and those who visit your world from Idumea? Will you shun the enticings of Ereshkigal and her hetaera and qualify yourself to receive a new body and return to the world of Idumea?

  There were so many pleadings, so many questions, she was frightened by them. Yet as she listened, she began to recognize the pattern of the oaths. She comprehended that each of the pillars was asking her two. As she listened, she could discern their voices through the maelstrom of thoughts. She realized that in order to silence them, she had to agree to the conditions each imposed on her. She started with the vine-shaped Leering.

  Yes, she thought in her mind. The Leering fell silent.

  One by one, she listened for the thoughts, understood the oath she was making and then silenced it with a thought of assent. After each one, she felt the Medium more strongly. It blazed inside of her, building her confidence. At last she faced the final Leering, the bearded one.

  Will you safeguard the names of the Essaios and those who visit your world from Idumea? Will you shun the enticings of Ereshkigal and her hetaera and qualify yourself to receive a new body and return to the world of Idumea?

  It was an invitation. A trust. She felt the pleading words mingle with her emotions. How could she describe it otherwise? A pleading with her to return to them. To recognize the evil of the Myriad Ones for what they really were and to scorn them. To let nothing distract her from her goal of returning to Idumea.

  Yes!

  The final Leering fell silent for a moment. Touch the white stone, it whispered.

  Lia sat up in the ossuary, staring at the billowy curtains of the Apse Veil. The white stones shone like noonday sun, almost blinding her with the intensity. She approached one of the inlets and reached out her hand. It was glowing white-hot, but she did not fear it. Reaching out, she cupped it in her hand and peered at it.

  In the midst of the blaze a light and fire, a single word appeared on the stone.

  A word she could not read.

  * * *

  “There is no anger above the anger of a woman. For her thoughts are more vast than the sea, and her counsels more deep than the great ocean.”

  - Gideon Penman of Muirwood Abbey

  * * *

  CHA
PTER TWENTY SEVEN:

  Apse Veil

  As Lia stared at the single word, she trembled with panic. She could not read it. She could not read anything. Why had the Aldermaston thought she could pass the maston test? She had come so far, taken so many oaths only to stumble now at the end. The Leerings she quelled. The white veils of the order covered her. How could she stop when it was so close? A few squiggly lines in a burning stone halting her purpose. She stared at them, amazed and defeated. To have come so far.