by Jeremy Marr
A fiery ball of light broke over the Endless Ocean that morning as it always did. It promised another scorching day as it had for the last nine hundred and seventy-eight years since the OneWhoMustRemember and his peoples’ ancestors came here. Although the sun did set every evening, darkness was not allowed to settle over the land. Instead, it was as if the wagon wheel of dusk broke every night just before the coach of darkness could sweep across the land. Darkness seemed afraid to push dusk ahead to allow it access to the land. Therefore, in the half-light it hid until the harsh, heat infested daylight came once again, passing them both in bringing another day.
The OneWhoMustRemember was standing on his spot at the base of the One-Day Mountain. Tanned, stick-thin, and wrinkled fingers held back white wisps of sweat soaked hair as he gazed across the mountain peaks, the same as he had every morning since he was raised to the “OneWhoMustRemember” almost thirty years ago. His name was Brendon-Jago, or just Jago to his family. He inhaled a lung full of humid air and released it through the blackened and broken teeth that littered his mouth like stalagmites in a cave. He focused his gaze on the top most section of the mountain before him.
“A day will come,” he started quoting from the first passage written in The Book of the Faithless. The book, written by the all mighty OneWhoBroughtUs nine hundred and seventy-eight years ago, was his entire life now. He could recite the whole book from memory, though some of the scriptures made little sense to him. He continued, “…when out forth from the greatest peak, riding the wind, shall Darkness’ herald unfold to battle the Light.”
He thought about what kind of man it took to be able to look into the future and share what he saw in writings strong and as sure as these.
“Light’s power will first be weakened, and then will fade altogether. The sun will hide in fear of what is to Come. Darkness will claim the sky and shout to all of the glorious Coming.”
Though he believed the words he spoke, he still could not quite fathom the power that could cause the sun itself to hide in fear. He had never seen, nor heard of, the sun not burning in the sky. He only hoped that he was still alive to see how it all came to play out.
“With Darkness’ triumph, at the darkest hour, He shall be born of flesh and fire. The most substantial one amongst you will offer Him themself, and so shall be the first to enter the Eternal Darkness in His name.
The Lost and the Faithless that you are now, you will no longer be.
He will Come, and you will be His.”
The sun was now half showing on the watery horizon behind him. Already, the humid air was thickening with the promise of delivering a day like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before even that one. He carefully knelt down on the rocky ground, baron of all vegetation, and clasped his hands over his eyes. He enjoyed the blackness of this “view” and always imagined himself floating in the sweet embrace of the Eternal Darkness, away from the sun and its heat. He brought to mind the last prophecy left by the OneWhoBroughtUs. No one knows what ever became of this great and powerful man. Nothing more was written by him, nor about him. It was as if after he finished the book he just simply vanished.
“I must meet him when I am within the Eternal Darkness myself,” Jago thought before speaking the prophecy aloud.
“Fear this, for I say He will come
At a time of HIS choosing.
HIS Hand shall first conquer all
In preparation of what shall be.
Into HIS Hand, HE will have given power
Long since forgotten and discredited.
HIS Hand will open the door Himself
To send forth for the shadows long ago
Locked up.
They will do HIS bidding as though
HIS Hand was HE HIMSELF
The Lost and Faithless will know Him
And through HIS Hand, they will finally
Be reunited with HIM and will be Lost and Faithless no more.
You will once again be able to prey to HIM
Under His rain
And from then forth you shall be known as
The Faithful.”
He knew neither what it was to “pray”, nor what his “rain” was, and why you would be under it, but he did know he was anxious to find out. It must be that he was one of the mentioned “Faithless”. Only he and his people existed in the whole world and the OneWhoBroughtUs named this place the “Land of the Faithless”. Brendon-Jago had often wondered over the years who the mentioned “Lost” were. They were mentioned in the beginning passage, and again in the last, but not once again between.
He slowly shook his head while releasing his hands from his eyes. Sometimes to him it seemed there was just not enough information about the past, and that made the future just as confusing as the prophecies that were written in the past. He started to painfully rise from the ground while his mind was already combing over The Book of the Faithless for anything he may have missed during his countless rereading of the book, cover to cover. He knew every page by heart, and still, after he was finished here, he knew he would head straight to the Cave of Remembrance where the book was kept. He also knew he would spend the rest of the day reading the book again. He may even start to go through the twenty-eight journals composed of writings of the many OneWhoMustRemembers that came before him. Those were, for the most part, dull and uneventful. Nevertheless, somewhere, he was sure he must have missed a key word or phrase that would clear things up in his head. Finding that one thing consumed his days and nights of late.
The sun was now completely above the horizon. The Endless Ocean reflected the fully exposed sun’s light in unison with the sun itself; both, he felt, aimed at the back of his neck. He shielded his eyes with one hand while holding back the whisks of hair left on his head with the other. He studied the mountain peak for any moment and noticed nothing in the way of any unnatural occurrences. He saw only the usual changing sparkles of light bathing the entire mountain, cast off the ocean. That, by itself, was a remarkable sight to be seen because the ocean was clear across not only his vast valley, but also the entire Birth Place Flats.
“It will be a record breaking hot one today,” he told himself. “I would hate to miss that.” He snickered to himself, though he realized his own dry sense of humor. One more gaze to the peak brought him to the close of his biggest job as the OneWhoMustRemember. He must be the first to see the Prophecy of the Coming spring to life. He must then light the bonfire staged further up the mountain, signaling to all of the Coming.
He was given a special tool to start the fire; it was called a ‘fire stick’. He learned about it from his father when he was brought up to see the bonfire staging ground further up the path from where the daily watch was observed. All he had to do was point the fire stick at the ever-growing pile of sticks and wood and say the word “ignite”. This would light the monstrous pile here, and would in turn signal other fires to be started, creating a bonfire chain across the mountain range for everyone to see, wherever he or she may be scattered across the Land of the Faithless.
Brendon-Jago, the OneWhoMustRemember, was sure that today was not the day of the Coming. He then turned around and started his three-hour trek down to the Cave of Remembrance, already anticipating tomorrow morning’s watching of the peak.
CHAPTER FOUR
BRENDON-KYLE
