The Tear of Gramal

by Phillip Jones

  The Source closed one eye so that he would not go cross-eyed when he looked at the angel. “Your suggestions sound wonderful, Anahita. Begin your creations.”

  Anahita turned to look out across the valley. She lifted her arms and was about to utter the language of the Titans when smoke from Dorick’s pipe drifted past her eyes. She looked down at the dwarf. “Must you? I cannot concentrate.”

  Dorick quickly removed the pipe from his mouth. “My apologies, Child.” He tucked the stem of the pipe into the pocket of his pants and left the bowl exposed.

  Again, Anahita looked out across the valley and lifted her arms. Her voice was strong as her hands began to circle. “Faragrosey a men yan, four tuadus diplomas menswallas!”

  The earth began to shake and open as the peaks of mountains erupted from beneath the surface and shot skyward to a height of more than 25,000 paces. At the base of the mountains, a hole opened and fresh water was rushing in to fill the expanse of the crater. By the moment Anahita was finished creating, a valley filled with succulent flora stretched before the trio, and 4,000 head of corgan were roaming from which the Source could feed at his leisure.

  Seeing the beauty of the valley, the Source lowered his head and allowed his company to float to the ground before he sniffed the tree tops. “You did well, Anahita. I believe you’re getting the hang of creating. Now you shall have a peak to stand upon in my absence.”

  The angel grinned. “I have often wondered why mountain ranges were so scattered. Now I know it’s because the gods needed them to stand on while they sculpted their creations.” Anahita found the Source’s open eye. “But I don’t imagine they had your snout to stand on when the worlds were first created, did they? Something tells me you didn’t offer them any help.”

  “Let us say this: what took the Collective of ‘so-called’ gods 800 seasons to create, I could have created in 7 Peaks.”

  Anahita gasped. “You make yourself sound like the Almighty. Are you God?”

  “No, no, no, Anahita, but I know him, and he’s displeased. Don’t allow the power you’ve been given to change you. You’ll never be a real god, nor will the others who claim to be gods. There is only one Almighty. Never forget that, Anahita.”

  “Goodness-gracious ... a chill just ran up my spine.”

  “And mine, too, Child,” Dorick added, “though I don’t know why.”

  Anahita smirked and then patted the dwarf on the shoulder. “If the Collective is pretending to be gods and the Almighty is displeased,” she looked up at the Source, “then why does he allow it? Why was Michael allowed to pretend to be a god when he was known to the Collective as Bassorine? And how could he tell me with a straight face that he was doing his father’s will if he has been continuing to play the same game the others are?”

  The Source snorted his irritation and then lowered his mass onto the ground. “I’ve chastised Michael, Gabriel, and Zerachiel on many occasions. They know they’ll never see the beauty of the one true Heaven again. They’re doomed to spend the rest of eternity on this plane, and they shall never know the Almighty’s presence.”

  “Hold on a moment. When I was in the shack ... this was just before Michael restored my wings, he said his father was calling him. Was he lying?”

  The Source closed his eyes and shook his massive head. “Yes, Anahita. I assure you, God has forsaken these worlds. It is I who has been assigned the task of ensuring the archangels never escape this plane. This is their Hell now, and Michael, Gabriel, and Zerachiel know that it’ll never be as glorious as the Heaven they abandoned to rescue you from Lucifer.”

  The dragon frowned. “It pains me to say this, Anahita, but your Heaven will fall short of the beauty that existed beyond the pearly gates, but it will suffice to establish a new order on this plane. Anything more, I care not to discuss. The misdoings of those that call themselves gods is not a topic that I care to expand upon.”

  The angel put her hand to her chin in thought. “Can you at least answer one other question? I promise to make it quick.”

  The dragon nodded.

  “I suppose my question would be: are there other beings who claim to be gods existing on the worlds? I’m speaking of beings who do not sit at the table of the Collective.”

  The Source nodded. “Yes, Anahita. The Collective is naive to believe that they’re the only beings to survive the wars that happened on this plane. Zeus, Hera and many others exist in hiding beneath the noses of those who claim to be gods. I shall further say that there is one who sits at the table of the Collective that has deceived them all.”

  “Which one?” Anahita inquired. “And what is his real identity? I must know.”

  “I also want to know,” the dwarf encouraged as he took a drag of his pipe.

  The Source chuckled. “Even if I was to tell you, Dorick, you wouldn’t remember once I deliver you to Trollcom. Once you are placed on that world, you won’t remember Anahita, me, or what your eyes have witnessed of her creations. All you will know when you open your eyes for the first moment inside the home I shall provide is that you’ll have a desire to bring about change and free all dwarves from the enslavement of trolls. Not only will you fight for their freedom, you’ll fight for the freedom of the lizardians.”

  Dorick lifted his pipe and started puffing. “And how do you expect me to do all that? What power will I have to force change upon kingdoms?”

  “Not force, Dorick ... entice. You’ll be given enough magic to protect yourself and the family you’ll create. You’ll have the charisma to match an ardent wit, and if you remain humble, the masses will follow you.”

  The dwarf pulled the pipe from his mouth and blew the smoke to the side. “And if I fail to remain humble, what then?”

  The dragon lowered his snout. His eyes spoke before he even opened his mouth. “Humility can be a funny thing. It can be stronger than the mightiest blade and crippling to the being who fails to wield it properly. Do you understand my meaning?”

  The dwarf nodded. “I understand. You’re saying I best not mess up. But if I do this, I get to keep my pipe.”

  Both Anahita and the Source chuckled as Dorick reached up to cover his ears. Eventually, the dragon stopped laughing and responded. “I will allow you to keep your pipe.”

  Harvestom, the High Priestess’ Palace

  2 More Peaks have Passed, Late Bailem

  Mosley lifted his head and looked toward the shoreline to the north. None of the trees on the priestess’ island had been marked, and he was enjoying his moments as he trotted between them to claim the territory. After his thirtieth tree and twenty-first stone, he stopped, looked toward the clouds and spoke aloud. “When do you intend to return, Sharvesa? I grow impatient. It has been more than 6 Peaks.”

  As the wolf continued his exploration of the island, a familiar face appeared near one of the evergreens he intended to mark. “Good evening, Mosley,” Celestria greeted. “I trust you’re well.”

  The wolf lowered his hind leg after giving the bark a squirt. “Why have you come, Celestria?”

  “I’ve come to ensure that you don’t waste anymore of your moments on Harvestom. Sharvesa won’t be returning. She has been detained.”

  The skin between the wolf’s eyes wrinkled. “How has she been detained?”

  “I can’t say. Alistar was the last being to speak with her. All I know is that you should make your way to this world’s Merchant Island and continue your quest for the power you seek. Once you acquire it, I’ve been advised that it won’t be in your best interest to use it as you had originally intended.”

  “Please explain,” the wolf demanded. “I won’t abandon my quest to end George and Kepler.”

  “Your desire to destroy the jaguar is acceptable, but you’re going to need George. You may end him however you wish once your task is complete.”

  “What kind of task?” the wolf sneered. “And why should I spare the human because of it?”

  “Because he’ll be necessary if you’re to succe
ed in your new mission to destroy Lasidious.”

  A deeper look of confusion appeared on Mosley’s face. “I have no such mission. Lasidious has done me no wrong. Why would I seek his demise?”

  The goddess knelt in front of the wolf and reached out to scratch the bottom of his chin. “Lasidious’ intent is to bring the worlds under his control. If this happens, darkness will be his main theme. You don’t want to live in darkness, do you Mosley?”

  The wolf shook his head. “Of course, not.” Lowering to his haunches, he inquired, “What could’ve happened that would cause you to turn against him in this fashion? What are you not telling me?”

  Celestria smiled as she stood to walk toward the beach. “Come with me. It’s a nice evening for a stroll. Don’t you agree?”

  As the goddess walked away, Mosley looked back and forth from the base of the next tree to Celestria. No matter how large his curiosity of the goddess’ reasons for abandoning her relationship with Lasidious, he desperately did not want to leave the area without claiming as much of it as he could. He dropped his head to the ground and sighed. “It’s moments like these when I miss being a god.” He lifted his head and addressed the terrain. “I could’ve marked you all at once.”

  “Are you coming, Mosley?” Celestria shouted, calling over her shoulder. I don’t have all Peak!”

  Darting to the next tree, the wolf quickly lifted his leg, gave it a squirt and then ran to catch up.

  As they continued to walk toward the beach, the goddess reached down and patted the wolf on the side of his neck.

  “I asked ... what are you not telling me?”

  “Mosley, there’s so much I’m not confessing, but you must know that I do it for your safety. The less you know, the better your chances of success.” The goddess reached down and lifted the wolf’s snout so she could find his eyes. “You must return to the Wisp of Song on Southern Grayham. He’s waiting for you.”

  “Why would Cadromel be waiting for me?” Mosley suspiciously questioned. “You know that I no longer need his assistance to acquire the power of the Ancient Mystics or the Swayne Enserad. I simply need to learn how to release the power within the words. That’s what Sharvesa was teaching me since the priestess was unqualified to do so.”

  Celestria nodded. “Fosalia has many weaknesses to be allowed to hold the position of High Priestess. I was shocked to learn that the Source objected to her removal.”

  The wolf shrugged. “How am I to know the dragon’s mind? To second guess the Mighty One’s decisions would be a waste of our moments.” Seeing a bush nearby, Mosley trotted over to it and sniffed at its base. A moment later, he squatted and a look of concentration appeared on his face.

  The goddess’ tone was filled with disgust. “Must you, Mosley? How can a being as adorable as you be so repulsive during the same moments? It makes me wonder why I chose to help you.”

  After scratching at the earth with his rear paws, the wolf turned to sniff the pile before he responded. “You’re not the only member of the Collective who has been revolted by my actions, yet I fail to comprehend why. Would the gods have me expel waste in any other fashion?”

  Celestria crossed her arms. “Of course, I would. I’d have you wait until I had departed. No one wants to see you garesh. It’s revolting. How could a being of your intelligence not know to do your business in private?”

  The night terror wolf looked at the pile, back at the goddess and then shrugged. “Perhaps you’re too sensitive. I see nothing wrong with my actions.”

  The goddess dropped her arms and groaned. “I suppose you wouldn’t. Let’s change this subject, shall we?”

  Mosley trotted back to Celestria and took a seat. As he spoke, he reached up with his back paw to scratch his neck. “I’m listening. Why must I seek an audience with Cadromel?”

  The goddess was about to respond when she noticed a small boat that had been pulled onto the shore not far away. For no reason, she extended her arm and sent the craft floating across the water. “It’s against the laws of the gods to tell a mortal how to find the power of the Titans, but Cadromel isn’t a god.”

  “Then you want me to seek Cadromel so he can send me on another hunt?”

  “Yes, but this won’t be just any hunt. Cadromel is a Titan, and he can—”

  “Stop,” Mosley interrupted. “I thought the dragons were the only beings to hold the title of Titan.”

  Celestria frowned at the abruptness of Mosley’s interruption. “You’re correct, but I’ve recently learned that the wisp has an alternate form.”

  “What kind of form?”

  Rather than respond right away, Celestria walked to the edge of the water and passed her hand across the top of it. Only a moment or two passed before an image began to form. The image was that of the wisp, and as Mosley stared into the water, Cadromel transformed into a magnificent dragon. His body glowed and a storm of electrical fury raged beneath his scales, almost as if lightning was emerging from the center of his being.

  “I had no idea,” Mosley confessed. “He’s beautiful ... like nothing I’ve ever seen before. How could I have not known?”

  “You’re not the only being without this knowledge. There are few who know. Even amongst the Collective, only two share this knowledge.”

  The wolf did not remove his eyes from the image as the conversation continued. The dragon’s beauty required as much. “Then it’s Cadromel who is to be my teacher.”

  Celestria nodded. “The dragon has agreed to impart the knowledge of how to release the power hidden within the language of the Titans once he has completed your training with the languages of the Ancient Mystics and the Swayne Enserad.”

  A fair series of moments passed while Mosley pondered the goddess’ words. “Why would the wisp offer instruction?”

  Celestria laughed. “Silly wolf ... he won’t simply offer instruction. He’ll expect knowledge in return. The wisp is a curious being, and since the Collective has forced him to stay within the mist beneath the falls on Southern Grayham, he desperately wants to know the secrets of the other worlds.”

  “What world does the wisp want me to retrieve these secrets from?”

  “I can’t say. That would be yet another secret the wisp chose to keep to himself.”

  “Don’t you mean dragon?”

  “Dragon ... wisp ... I care not how he’s identified. We’re referring to the same being, are we not?”

  Mosley pulled his eyes away from the vision in the water. “Why would Cadromel agree to teach me a language that would make me as powerful as he is?”

  Celestria shook her head. “I don’t know, Mosley. Alistar was the one to speak with the wisp ... the dragon ... the whatever. Perhaps you should ask Cadromel these questions. I’m sure his reasons are epic in nature.”

  “Epic, indeed,” Mosley agreed. “But you have yet to tell me why Lasidious must be destroyed, and why George must be the one I hunt with?”

  Celestria chuckled. “You’ll never change, Mosley. You’re an inquisitive beast. Further questions will need to be asked of Cadromel. I’d take you to the wisp myself, but I cannot.”

  “What would stop you?” Mosley argued. “Is it against the laws of the gods?”

  Rather than answer, the goddess knelt next to the wolf and kissed the end of his nose. “Travel safely, my friend. Know that I wish no harm to befall you.” The goddess dropped two Lasidious coins onto the ground. “Your ride with the Merchant Angels will be costly.” Celestria vanished.

  Mosley looked down at the coins and growled. “Curse the gods! I have so many questions.”

  Ancients Sovereign

  Beneath the Peaks of Angels

  The Next Morning

  When Celestria returned to her home the following morning, she appeared inside her bedroom chamber. She looked across the room toward the bed and smiled at the being who was lying beneath the covers, waiting. “It is finished.”

  The God of the Harvest threw back the covers and patted the top of the
mattress filled with vestle chick feathers. “Is the wolf on his way to Grayham?”

  “He is,” the goddess confirmed.

  “What about Cadromel? Did you speak with him?”

  “It took all night to find him. The mist was thick, and I believe he chose to be elusive ... but I did speak with him. He knows the wolf is coming.”

  “What about Gabriel? Will the Book fulfill his part?”

  Celestria dropped her dress to the floor. “Did I not already say that it was finished when I appeared?”

  Alistar grinned. “My apologies. I’m simply being cautious.” He patted the mattress again. “Come close, and place your head on my chest. I sense you have more questions.”

  The goddess refrained. “I’ll place my head on your chest only after your answers are to my satisfaction.”

  “Fair enough,” Alistar conceded. “What would you like to know?”

  Celestria leaned back against the headboard and brought up her knees to cover her bosom. “I can understand why Garrin must be left in the care of the Vampire Queen until we find a way to wean him from his addiction to her milk, but I cannot understand why you refuse to tell the Book about Lasidious. Why not let Gabriel know that Lasidious possesses Tardon’s old body? Why not allow the Book to end the charade?”

  Alistar pushed back the sheets and stood from the bed. “Too many seasons have I followed Lasidious, and during that entire series of moments, it was all about him ... his glory ... his power ... his desire to control the Collective. I’ve had enough of that.”

  “So, you seek vengeance,” Celestria concluded. “You’re angry with him.”

  “Angry doesn’t describe my hatred for him. He’ll suffer beyond suffering. I’ll see that he wallows in misery, and each morning he’ll call out my name and beg for mercy before I’m finished with him. But for that to happen, I must keep his identity a secret from the Book and beat Lasidious at his own game.”