Tears of the Dead

by Brian Braden

  “Come with me.”

  “I cannot.”

  “He will kill you.”

  Amiran dismissed my question with a shrug. “Of course, but only when I’m no longer useful.”

  “Surely Quexil will try to blame my rebellion on you.”

  “He will, especially to save his own skin. Someone must pay for your little fit.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  He chuckled. “When Prince Gadeirus slew his dragon thirty years ago, it was a young expedition scholar with a taste for tobacco who removed the beast’s bile sacs.” He nodded slightly in a mock bow. “You’re looking at the last living Royal Butcher. Leviathan wants a dragon as badly as he wants to conquer Cin, and your tales made him believe dragons might still exist. He can’t bring home fire bile without me.”

  A cloud passed over Amiran’s face as he considered Elda and Ercole.

  “He won’t kill me, but there are other ways to exact revenge.”

  He reached into his soot stained toga and, with some pain, removed his pipe and tobacco. “Elda, be a dear and light my pipe.”

  Amiran smiled. “Lord Fu Xi, will you care to take a smoke with me one more time before you go?”

  “I would be honored.”

  “I am sorry I have no tea,” Amiran passed the pipe.

  “I am glad you don’t have any coffee,” I laughed.

  The Chronicle of Fu Xi

  ***

  Fu Xi spent the first few weeks snaring small game. Once he summoned enough strength, he ventured east into the wetlands to hunt bigger game. Now he had enough smoked meat to last months, as well as a deerskin tunic, trousers, and wolf skin shoulder cape. He even fashioned crude repairs to the saddle and bags. He’d repaired most of his gear, but he couldn’t replace the Red Sword.

  Fu Xi would have gladly lost everything except his horse and the Red Sword. Even the Red Armor felt unnecessary, as Fu Xi trusted his own speed and agility against all possible threats...

  ...except Leviathan.

  He’s out there. Maybe Amiran is with him.

  Fu Xi stood and considered the map once more.

  A map keeps the wandering heart from losing its way home.

  Fu Xi strode back to the horse, shrugging to shift a chaffing spot under the armor. Now that he’d lost weight, it sagged slightly.

  He looked west, wondering if the Gray Eyed Queen, or any of the Eleven Princes, survived the Cataclysm.

  “I would have liked to have met her, Heise. I find the thought of a female immortal intriguing.”

  Nuwa’s warning echoed in his thoughts as he mounted Heise.

  “If you survive to see the end of the scourge, depart the Navel of the World to the west. As you pass into unknown lands, keep the Red Sword close and always wear your armor.”

  “Why?” Fu Xi asked.

  “In case your brother finds you first.”

  He’d often thought about this long lost half-brother.

  In case your brother finds your first...

  ***

  In the dew covered grass I sat at my friend’s feet, giving the place of honor to a mortal like none I’d met before or since. I tried not to contemplate that we may never meet again, or the torments he would endure under Leviathan.

  I will not tell you, Dear Reader, whether we smoked the sweet or bitter weed, only that Amiran and I stitched together our last moments with short words and long silences.

  “Do what you must in Nushen,” he said between puffs. “If you can, journey west and find The Gray Eyed Queen, Leviathan’s twin sister. She leads a rebellion against the Eleven Princes on the far side of the world, in the land called Attica.

  “There are many in the Kingdom secretly loyal to her. The resistance grows stronger every day, but should Cin fall into Leviathan’s hands, there will be no hope for victory.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “Should Cin and Attica join together, hope lives. She is like you, Fu Xi. She remembers why the gods came to earth.”

  Baffled, I pictured the world map Amiran showed me in the Library.

  “Two oceans and two continents stand between Wu and Ereb, which is east, not west.”

  Amiran grinned in that infuriating way of his. “I have weighed and measured the entire world, Fu Xi. If you chase the sunset long enough, you will find the dawn. Keep the North Star on your right shoulder until the natives eyes turn blue and round. Keep going until you encounter a warm sea. Follow the shore north, and keep going until you hear the sounds of war. I cannot tell you what you will encounter between Nushen and Attica, but barring an unknown ocean, you will find her.”

  The brush rustled behind us. Elda and Ercole darted behind me as I rose and turned, sword extended. Sunnah emerged from the trees riding his chestnut mare and leading my horses.

  “The Draco and two other ships sail from east. Riders gallop from north. He is coming,” Sunnah said.

  Amiran stood and tapped out the pipe. “Go.”

  I embraced my friend. “I left my land a teacher, and return a student.”

  Amiran’s eyes misted over. “They were once like you, Fu Xi. We were once Poseidon’s beloved children, the Princes, our patient shepherds. Immortality drove them mad.”

  He clasped both my hands. “You will see days without number and wonders unceasing. I beg you, do not let eternity poison your heart. Immortality is a curse when it serves its own selfish desires.

  “Flesh isn’t meant to live forever.”

  The Chronicle of Fu Xi

  ***

  Heise pranced as if ready to continue their adventure.

  “Excited?” A spark kindled in Fu Xi’s heart, and a mischievous grin lit his face. He wheeled the horse toward the distant mountains and nudged Heise with his heels. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let us chase the sunset until we find the dawn!”

  The steed broke into a full gallop as he let loose a joyous cry. Together, they pursued the wind westward.

  48. Tears of the Dead

  “Do not dwell on your love’s final breath; instead remember those words last spoken in love. In these, you will find courage and shall fear death no more.” - Scythian Proverb

  The Chronicle of Fu Xi

  ***

  A flat sea reflected a lifeless mist. The very air seemed to absorb the moans and wails rising from the shattered rafts.

  “We drift between worlds,” Aizarg mumbled into a fog so thick they couldn’t see the flotilla’s opposite side.

  Ghalen supported Aizarg by one arm, Sana held the other as Ba-tor clung to her leg.

  Sana spoke to Aizarg softly, “Ghalen and Okta swam around the rafts. They are nowhere to be found.”

  “Have them take out a boat and search the surrounding water.”

  “The storm destroyed the boats.”

  Ba-tor looked up at Sana with an expression as blank as the fog. “Is Mommy gone now, too?”

  If Ba-tor had been a Scythian child, she would have told him the truth. Now, she found the truth too heavy to bear.

  “I’ll take him.” Su-gar scooped up Ba-tor and returned to the mast, where the Lo huddled, stripped by the storm of everything except their clothes and lives.

  Aizarg peered into the grayness. “The rain stopped. Tell me, Sana, how many marks are etched upon the mast?”

  “Forty, my Uros.”

  “Forty days and forty nights...The silence, it hurts my ears.” He patted her hand. “You will have to make the marks from now on, my Isp.”

  “Aizarg...”

  “Say nothing.”

  She lowered her head.

  “Aizarg,” Ghalen said. “We grieve with you.”

  Aizarg wouldn’t take his eyes off the fog, as if it would surrender his wife and firstborn any moment. “Does my grief hold any greater value than any of our people who have lost so much?”

  “Sana, Ghalen, come here for a moment.” Okta motioned them a few paces away from Aizarg.

  “How is he?” Okta asked in a hushed voice.
<
br />   Sana looked back at Aizarg. “I don’t know.”

  “No one saw either of them wash overboard?” Ghalen asked.

  “A wave hit, I opened my eyes, and she was gone. I spent the rest of the night holding Ba-tor and the mast, afraid to let go of either. No one else saw her or Kol-ok after that.”

  Okta put his hands on his hips. “We’re lucky we only lost two.” Sana followed his gaze across the broken flotilla.

  How are we even still afloat?

  The Master of Boats rubbed his beard, expression as dark as Sana had ever seen. “The food is gone, our shelters destroyed. The storm took everything. The two barges are beaten up, but they’ll float in a calm sea. The bow raft’s bindings are rotted, she’s coming apart. We’ll have to cut her loose.” He glanced over his shoulder as Aizarg. “We’re going to have to make some tough decisions, with or without the Uros.”

  “We still have plenty of water,” Sana said.

  “Maybe not,” Ghalen blew out between puffed cheeks.

  “You haven’t told her yet?” Okta frowned.

  Ghalen shook his head. He pointed to the water. “Taste it.”

  Sana knelt down, cupped some water and took a sip. She grimaced and spat it out. “It tastes like salt!” Horrified, she looked up at Ghalen.

  Ghalen shook his head. “We’ve never seen water like this.”

  Sana shook her head. “We can’t drink it. Watering holes that smell of brine kill, but only after it drives you mad.”

  Okta looked out over the Lo spread across two barges. “We better tell everyone before people try to take a drink.”

  Sana spied something slither just below the surface. Ghalen snatched her from the edge as demons drifted from below the rafts. Panic ensued as others spotted the demons.

  “I thought we’d seen the last of them,” Okta growled.

  “Get Levidi,” Aizarg commanded from behind them.

  In a few minutes the Lo lined the edge of the Supply Barge, staring at demons swimming around their flanks. They merged into a black stream flowing away from the flotilla.

  Levidi held out the staff nervously, ready to banish the monsters. “This fog reminds me of the ice mist. I don’t like it a bit, not a bit.”

  “Just banish them, Levidi,” Kus-ge said.

  “I follow the Uros’s command, not yours.”

  “They don’t seem interested in us,” Ezra said. “Where are they going?”

  “Wherever they are going, so are we,” Okta said. “The current draws us that way.” He pointed to where the demons swam.

  “Something floats up ahead,” Ba-lok squinted.

  Okta shrugged. “It’s a piece of flotsam or debris.”

  “It’s a body.” Sana immediately recognized a bloated human abdomen.

  “No!” Aizarg pushed his way forward.

  “It’s not one of them!” Sana grabbed Aizarg’s arm, trying to quell his fear. “It’s been floating for a long time.”

  The nude, grossly distended male corpse drifted a few yards to their right. A claw encircled its neck and dragged it down.

  Su-gar walked up. “The children are asking for...” She glanced over the water and screamed.

  Hundreds of bodies floated ahead, suspended in the glass-like sea.

  “Su-gar, go back with the children!” Okta demanded, but she kept screaming. Ezra hid her face. Spako braved the raft’s edge and put a protective arm around both Ezra and Su-gar.

  “Ezra,” Okta said. “Take her back. Spako, tell the women to hide the children’s eyes.

  The fog lifted slightly, revealing clumps of bodies. Sana couldn’t look away from the blackened, bloated faces staring vacantly into the sky. Along with beasts of every sort, they formed grisly floes stretching as far as they could see. Demons circled the ghastly islands, pulling one body after another into the depths.

  “What are they doing?” Levidi asked.

  “Feeding,” Aizarg said grimly.

  Ghalen turned to Okta. “We’re being drawn into it. Do we have anything to steer with?”

  “Nothing.” Okta gritted his teeth in frustration. “Not even a damn pole to push away the corpses.”

  “We can’t go in there,” Kus-ge’s voice teetered on panic’s edge.

  Virag peered around her. “It looks like we don’t have a choice. I think I’m going back to the mast.”

  “There are thousands,” Ezra whispered.

  “Tens of thousands,” Aizarg said as if in a trance. “The demons feast on the dead. They will leave no trace of the time before the flood.”

  “Do something!” Kus-ge grabbed Ba-lok’s tunic.

  “I don’t...I can’t...” he stuttered impotently.

  “This is Heli-dar! Don’t you understand, fool? We are dead!” Kus-ge shrieked again and again until Sana struck her squarely on the jaw.

  Sana stepped over Kus-ge’s unconscious body and glared at Ba-lok. “Drag your woman to the mast before I throw her in.”

  Ba-lok obeyed.

  Soon, an overpowering reek blanketed them.

  “Are we truly dead?” Ezra gagged.

  “No,” Aizarg said.

  Sana peered over the edge as the demons danced beneath her reflection. As if falling into a trance, calmness spread through her limbs.

  “The water...” she whispered. “The salt...something Atamoda once said.” Words slowly congealed in her mind. “Woe to those who forget the lost, for at the end of all things I will disgorge them upon you, and the waters will be filled with the tears of the dead.”

  A high-pitched scream jolted her from the trance, as the demons shrieked and parted before them like autumn leaves in the wind.

  Everyone stared at Aizarg’s staff, which shone with a brilliant blue light.

  Levidi stared at the staff. “Aizarg?”

  “I asked nothing from the Nameless God. Its power is summoned by another.”

  The fog darkened behind the flotilla. Sana blinked, and then frowned, trying to comprehend what she witnessed. She looked up, and then kept looking up, as a dark shape peeled back the mists and loomed over the flotilla.

  Trembling, Sana covered her mouth and sank to her knees.

  “Sana?” Ghalen knelt beside her.

  Speechless, she could only point.

  Aizarg took the glowing staff from Levidi, raised it high, and shouted to his people. “Behold, the Black Fortress!”

  “A mountain upon the waters. What a mighty vessel!” Okta gasped.

  “What a mighty God,” Aizarg replied.

  The Uros and his people fell to their knees and bowed their heads as the Ark drifted by only a few feet away; a black wall vaulting high above into the mist. It slid by without sound or ripple, propelled by an unseen force. It repelled the dead; they parted before it to create a wide, clear channel. The flotilla drifted into its wake and followed the Ark through the watery passage.

  Soon, the flotilla began to lag behind the Ark. The dead floated away to either side, slowly vanishing into the thinning mist.

  “It protects us,” Sana whispered, and the people rose and watched in wonder as it drifted farther away.

  Ghalen wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “The dead are gone. We are not forsaken.”

  She rested her head against his chest. “We are not forsaken.”

  At that moment a blinding light erupted from behind the Ark. They turned away and shielded their eyes.

  “What is it?” Okta squinted. “Is it some new magic?”

  Sana held her hands toward the warmth and laughed. “It is the most wonderful magic of all. The sun!”

  The Ark pierced the horizon and vanished into the sunrise of the new age.

  Ghalen squinted. “Where are they going?”

  Aizarg turned away. “They sail to their destiny. We sail to ours.”

  The Lo cheered and danced, raising their hands to the sun and a new chance of life.

  A grudging smile momentarily graced Virag’s face. “Remind me never to curse the sun again
.”

  After a few moments, Sana looked around for Aizarg among the rejoicing people. She found him standing on the flotilla’s opposite side, staring at the retreating fog bank and the land of the dead. Sana wrapped her arm around his waist.

  “Tell me what you told Su-gar, the day we found the flotilla,” he rasped.

  She paused for a moment before speaking. “Those words were for a grieving maiden. They hold no magic for your heart.”

  “Then does my Isp have words of comfort for her Uros? Tell me, I beg you, so I can find the courage to face the sun again.”

  She opened her mouth to utter an old Scythian proverb, but stopped. Sana looked about at the vast, endless expanse of water and thought of her grandmother, the legendary woman she met only once.

  She’s the one who truly spared me. What would she say?

  “The sea comes first.” Sana didn’t know why she spoke those words, only that she must.

  As the Lo danced and praised the Nameless God, Aizarg’s tears fell into the salty sea.

  Epilogue

  “You were forbidden from aiding him.” The Black Dragon stood apart from Nuwa, watching Fu Xi’s retreating figure in disgust. “How easily you disobey the Emperor of Heaven, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you...again. You were always one of his favorites.”

  Perched on a rocky pinnacle overlooking the fertile grasslands, Nuwa gazed upon Fu Xi and Heise, soaking in the joy radiating from her child.

  “I didn’t help him.” She crossed her arms and smiled wryly. “I helped his horse.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “And I thought I hadn’t taught you anything about deception!” He raised an accusing eyebrow. “And the apple that saved his life?”

  She turned to him, eyes narrowing with blue fire. “That gift came from another.”

  She’d never known him to display fear, even if he could experience fear. But her enemy suddenly appeared uncomfortable, looking about suspiciously.