The Fallen God

by Gary Mark Lee

  The Handmaiden smiled, “yes, very much”.

  “Done”, said the Prince and waited till Kela handed the shell bracelets to the merchant, when it was done he turned to Kor once more, “give my regards to your lovely mate”, he said with a slight laugh then they left the trading stall.

  They moved only a few steps away when Kela spoke to the Prince, “how did you make the man take your offer, it was not a good trade for him at all?”

  To this Anais once more laughed, “many cycles ago I had the pleasure of being a intermediary between him and two young maidens of our tribe, he wished to spend the night with them and they wished his jewelry, so I arranged it for him”.

  The young Handmaiden understood it was not something that a Prince of the Almadra should be involved in, but why would the merchant care if his indiscretions were known? Then she heard loud yelling behind her and she turned to see the fat merchant being screamed at by an even larger Norgonie female, and watching this she realized that the man would have paid any price to keep his secret from his domineering mate.

  Endo had watched his father rush to the side of his mother and although he wanted to run to her side also he knew that it was far too dangerous. So he held back his anger and sat alone beside the Washa fire trying not to think, but he was no longer a scavenger of the Outlands content to hunt for food and live out his life without knowledge or feeling for another kind.

  What if she dies? He thought, and it caused his heart pain to think of the woman who had born him on her back and fed her with her blood no longer alive. Then something else crossed his mind, what will happen to me when my father is gone? He knew his father was old and even with the added years that consuming Grana would bring him the cycles would eventually catch up with him and he too would die. I will be alone then, and being alone for him was far worse than any another fate for he could no longer live with his kind and he would never be truly accepted by the Nomads, he was a creature without a tribe, without a future. As he sat dreaming of a world where he could walk without hiding his face, something on the wind drew him back to the place he now was. He lifted his head and sniffed the air with his sensitive nose.

  That smell, he thought, the one from the cave, it has returned, it was indeed the odor that had drawn him away before and it seemed to him much stronger. And before he knew what was happening he rose from where he sat and once more began to follow the beckoning fragrance.

  Osh had given up his struggles for the hands that held him were far stronger than his and he resigned his fate to whatever was to come. He knew that his kidnappers were not interested in killing him for if that were the case they would have done it earlier and not carried him off. On the other hand they might want to wait and disposes of him in some ghastly way to appease some God or another, or they simply might have made a mistake and it was some other old man they had mistaken him for. Now as he was being carried he started to calculate how many different scenarios there might be to why he should be carried off but before he had formulated more than two dozen or more he was set down and the robe removed from his head.

  He kept his eyes closed for a moment or two not wanting to open them and find out what fate was in store for him then his curiosity got the better of him and he slowly opened one eye. In the dim light from torches he realized that he was in a very large room and his attackers had vanished, encouraged by this he opened the other eye and slowly looked about the room.

  From its great size he knew he could only have been inside the Temple of Arm-Ra. I have been brought here for some reason, he thought, then he remembered the maiden who had her heart cut out, I do not think they would be interested in and old and worn organ like mine. He told himself this to ease his mind but he knew that religious fanatics would kill young and old alike if their God commands them. So he decided not to think about such things and turned his attention back to his surroundings.

  Stone monoliths that towered over his head and were carved with writings and inscriptions that he had never seen before surrounded him, many of them were cracked and several of them were broken and large chunks of writings were missing. Others were unbroken and bore strange markings that could only have been some kind of mathematical calculations still others had carvings that defied the mind and would have taken a Trolacian computer to decipher.

  And it was not only the stone slabs that filled the room; there were also a huge amount of parchments lying about or piled high on wooden tables. There were strange machines and ancient mechanisms that the old man had seen before, they lay scattered about the Outlands and were ignored by the Nomads as being useless. And with the steel devices were the reassembled skeletons of the great creatures that once roamed the planet but now were extinct with only bleached bones to mark that they were ever here at all.

  And seeing all this Osh smiled for he knew he was standing in one of the great collections of the galaxy. But before he could examine any of the fantastic objects a voice called out to him.

  “Welcome Oshismarie Inastro Sistashion”, it said.

  The old man turned to see the High Priest of the Norgonie standing before him; he was dressed in an impressive robe but wore no headdress. He could see his wrinkled face clearly now and it reminded him of someone he saw before, his eyes were dark and piercing and on his forehead he bore a cryptic tattoo.

  The Holy Man took a few more steps then stood before Osh and smiled, “I am called Ormandis but my real name is Vitranius Olandra, I am a Callaxion and very content to meet you”.

  Osh stood like he had been struck by lightning then after a moment he nodded his head at the man, “thank you, and I am also content to meet one of my kind”.

  Now if it had been any other species of human they would have clasped their arms about each other and exchanged words of how thankful they were to meet another of their kind. They would have smiled and made comments of how long it had been sense they had spoken with someone like themselves and so on and so on, but Callaxions were not like other people. They did not show emotions to any great extent and preferred to keep their feelings inside; still it was easy to see that the two men were very content to meet.

  “I am sorry that my servants had to bring you here like this”, the High Priest said, “But I could not risk anyone knowing that I wished to speak to you”.

  “I understand”, Osh replied “I am not loved by the Outlanders and know that the Norgonie are wary of strangers”. There was a pause then the old man spoke again, “forgive me for asking but there once was a Callaxion whose name was also Olandra, why have you taken his name?”

  The Holy Man smiled “because I am that man”.

  Hearing this made Osh shake his large head, “that cannot be for Olandra died a very long time before I was hatched”.

  Now it was the High Priests time to smile, “never the less that man is me” and motioning to his brethren they began to walk, and as they did the Holy Man continued to speak. “I can understand your confusion so I will endeavor to explain, in my time I was a great scholar and my fame had spread across the Outer Rim until every civilized planet knew my name. I was awarded medals and an accolade till my chest was no longer able to bear them, and when I grew tired of the fame I sought to find a place where I could seek more understanding and live out the rest of my life in peace”.

  As the Holy Man spoke they moved out of the great hall and into a long corridor filled with even more wondrous objects and stone writings.

  “So I decided that the one place that held the most secrets was the planet known as Gorn, for at that time very little was understood about this strange place where technologies are useless and few people ever escaped from. It was then that I disappeared and let the Outer Rim believe I was dead, I then piloted a small lightship and landed on this world and began to explore”.

  It was then that Osh began to ask questions, “but how did you survive alone against the perils of the Outlands, surely you would have been killed?”

  They stopped walking for a moment and stood
beside the large skull of some long dead creature.

  “That is a long and rather fascinating story but let me just say I was rescued by the Norgonie and taken into the tribe. And after a time I was made a priest of Arm-Ra and eventually became their High Priest, it was at that time I began my real work”.

  “And what is that?” asked Osh.

  Vitranius looked deep into the eyes of his companion, “To understand the hidden secrets of this world and become the wisest of all Callaxions”.

  Endo once more followed the sent to the cave in the corner of the Fortress, and like before there were warriors guarding the entrance along with several Drogs. He knew it would be certain death to try and move pass those guardians so he tried to think of another way into the tunnel and solve the mystery of the beckoning odor. He thought of several different scenarios all of them unworkable, then fate intervened and he found an answer coming towards him.

  The huge steel Karack that the Norgonie had used to fill with Eul was returning to the tunnel. It was now empty of the burning rock and before he could think his plan through his need to follow the sent overcame his good judgment and he ran quickly to the great wagon and climbed up the side and into the open container before anyone could see him. He sat motionless as the Karack moved into the darkened tunnel and into a world that he had no knowledge of.

  Osh had followed Vitranius through the corridor and into a smaller chamber, this one was filled with more carved stones and collections of bone form many different animals along with what looked like the remains of Nomads. They were all cleaned and arranged in a manner that mimicked their activities in real life, and some even had fragments of their bodies preserved in glass containers. Glass was something hardly used by the Outlanders for it was too fragile a substance to withstand the vigor’s of a Nomads life and therefore not of much value. But seeing so many large specimens preserved in such a way made Osh wonder how many other things lay waiting to be discovered.

  But for now he sat at a small table and listened to the words of his brethren as he continued to explain his presents on Gorn.

  “When I heard that there was a man with great knowledge traveling with the Outlanders without nails on his fingers and who possessed a hole in the side of his head I knew it must be one of my kind”. And saying this the High Priest turned his large head to one side exposing the very same import devise that allowed Callaxions to interface with Outer Rim computers. “I waited till you came into the land of the Norgonie and then sent for you, now together we can reveal all the power of this planet and use it as we wish”.

  “And what power is that?” Osh asked as if he did not know, but inside he knew what the Holy Man was getting at, the creature that lives deep under the earth, the one that once spoke to his mind and told him how the Nomads came to be. Does he know what I know? He thought has the creature spoken to him as well?

  Vitranius leaned over the table and smiled, “you know of what I speak, there is a great power that lives within this world, a creature that keeps it safe from outsiders and even speaks to some in dreams. And I am certain that if we find the right information it can speak to us”.

  He does not speak with the entity, the old man thought, the creature has kept its secrets from him, and not wanting to reveal his past Osh nodded his head; “yes that would be a wonderful thing”.

  The High Priest took up a large silver container sitting on the table and filled to gold cups with its contents. There was also a silver box that he opened and putting his thin nail less fingers into it he took out a pinch of some crystal substance and put it into one of the cups, when this was done he handed the one without the crystals to his companion. “I am sure there are many questions that you want to ask me, ask them now and I will try and answer them”.

  Osh did indeed have many questions, “very well, how have you remained alive all this time?”

  The Holy Man smiled, “a very good question”, he took a sip of his wine “you know that the Outlanders consume a substance called Grana?”

  “Yes, they must eat it or become sick with the plague that infects all creatures on Gorn”.

  “That is true but have you wondered why the Norgonie do not partake of the green salt?” the High Priest asked.

  It was a mystery why the forest people remained healthy without trading for the precious salt and one that Osh dearly wished he had an answer too; “yes I have wondered about such a thing”.

  Vitranius leaned back in his chair, “the Norgonie do not need the salt because they eat the Trocas”.

  The Callaxion knew that the Norgonie ate the forest caterpillar like insect but did not understand why because he had once tasted the green and brown crawler and it was vile.

  “The Troca’s? What have they got to do with the plague?”

  The Holy Man grinned “the Troca’s burrow into the earth and eat the minerals deep underground, then they return to the surface to breed, their bodies still have traces of Grana and eating them gives the Norgonie immunity”.

  Osh was feeling a bit embarrassed by the simple explanation but it still did not explain the long life of the Holy Man, then Vitranius continued.

  “When the Nomads rebirth some of them parish in the process and their bodies turn to ash, it is that substance that they call crystal Grana or Tran that as kept me from dying and given me the strength to carry on my work”. He lifted his drinking cup and Osh suddenly realized that the crystal substance that he had put into his wine was indeed Tran.

  Osh knew of Tran but it was extremely rare and never used by the Nomads for their laws forbid it, “you know that the crystal is forbidden by the Book of Isarie?”

  The Holy Man chuckled at hearing this, “Yes, I made sure of that”.

  Osh put down his cup and looked at the ancient Callaxion, “please clarify what you meant when you said you made sure of that?” he asked.

  Again the High Priest laugh, “I said that because I wrote the Book of Isarie”.

  The Old man did not speak when he heard Vitranius say this he just sat back in his chair and continued to listen to the soft laughter.

  The great Karack of the Norgonie continued down the darkened tunnel with Endo hidden in the back, it was a bumpy ride but not any worse than when he had driven his father’s wagon over the rough terrain of the Outlands. But at that time he knew where he was going and why, now he was trapped and heading into the earth without a plan for getting out. He did know that he was heading in a generally eastern direction for his Sandjar instinct told him that, but he also knew that he was heading downward and that caused him fear.

  I should not have come, he thought, then the odor that had forced him to follow it once more filled his nostrils and he forgot his fears.

  The tunnel was lit by a series of lamps fixed to the walls; they burned the same Eul that gave light to Washa’s of the Outlanders and had once filled the huge steel box that Endo was now riding in. The bottom of the wagon had a layer of dust and fragments of Eul and with the constant bumping it now covered the face and hands of Endo and his once clean robe was now filthy with the black substance. But it mattered very little to the green boy for he concentrated on the enticing aroma that was now becoming stronger and stronger. With each passing moment he seemed to be falling deeper and deeper into a wonderful a place where all his dreams would come true.

  It would turn out much different.

  Osh tried to tell himself that he had misunderstood the words that he had just heard from Vitranius, but being a Callaxion and never being able to forget anything he knew that he had indeed heard correctly, but never the less he ask the same question once more.

  “You said you wrote the Book of Isarie?”

  The Holy Man took a long drink of his wine and then smiled at his companion, “yes, I did” then there was a slight pause and then more words, “well I might have exaggerated some, so let me clarify that statement. When I first came here I found that the Norgonie had a series of scrolls, crude writing if you will all relating to their so
called religion, they were mostly based on ancient stories and legends handed down from generation to generation. I simply put them into a collated book form and pronounced it the work of their God”.

  Osh nodded his head, “yes that would explain the beliefs of the forest people but what about the Outlanders?”

  “That was done in much the same manor, the Nomads believed in a different God then the Norgonie, a female deity called Isarie; I also took their writings and stories and put that in a book for them. It was then quite easy to add a few more things to make them truly believe that it was the voice of their God speaking to them”.

  “A few more things?” the old man asked.

  “Yes, in order to have people believe you must connect them to things that have happened in their lives, birth, death, mystic visions, search your memory and I am sure you will find evidence to what I say”.

  It only took a few moments for Osh to look into his inner mind before he found what he was searching for, Legends and Gods of the Outer Worlds, by Garramandy Leetrano, professor of religion and reality at the school for Minds, Brinata Seven. Chapter eight to twelve, Isarie the Merciful, and there was more, belief and the power of faith by Nomora Kan, history of worship and sacrifice in the belief of a higher being. There was a vast amount of information stored in his sub-mind also but there was no need to look further for he knew that Vitranius spoke the truth so he let the Holy Man continue.

  “You know that the Outlanders and the Norgonie sometimes have dreams that come true?”

  Again Osh nodded his head; “yes I have heard this”, I am not going to tell him that I have had such dreams.

  Both of them knew that Callaxions never dream their minds are too well organized to allow random images to intrude upon them even in their sleep.

  “I took those dreams and added them to their holy book with the understanding that the Outlanders would be better controlled that way”.

  Osh thought this over for a moment and although he did not want to he believed everything the High Priest said, it was a much more rational explanation then believing that the Holy Book was given to them by a Goddess. But he also knew that his mind had spoken with the creature that the Nomads called Isarie and it was a kind and gentle being, unless he was mistaken?