"Valhandra."
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
All at once, at the uttering of His name, something within Render changed. He could never quite say what exactly it was, but it seemed as if the white light, unadulterated and omnipotent entered him. Only one word to describe it came to mind: TRUTH.
And so it was.
"ARISE AND FOLLOW ME, RENDER."
When he opened his eyes, Valhandra's light had moved further, deeper into the expanse above the valley. Towards Handara's summit. This was Valahandra, and yet, it could not be. Not completely, in any case. For he knew the glowing sphere of light in and of itself could never fully encompass the entirety of Valhandra's being. It could only have been a manifestation, a supreme condescension. As a story is to its author.
"FOLLOW."
His knees threatened to give out, but Render stood and gazed down. So high up was he that he could not discern what it was that spread across the barren wasteland in the valley below.
One thing he did know: Another step forward and he would be dashed against the rocks, never living to see the end of his fall.
"Sire, I...If I move forward, I shall surely—"
"LOSE THY LIFE, AND FOLLOW ME. THUS SHALT YE FIND IT."
He wanted nothing more than to obey. But at the same time, the thought of being smashed to a bloody pulp made him hesitate. "Sire, I must go back and bury the Elders."
"LET THE DEAD BURY THEIR OWN," came the reply, in a fatherly tone which Render found he could barely resist. "FOLLOW ME AND FIND YOUR LIFE, YOUR IDENTITY. YOUR DESTINY."
"I...I truly wish to obey. But..."
"COME!"
The sphere of Valhandra's light shone brighter, grew larger and appeared nearer, though it was not. A great sea of clouds flowed into the valley, covering it like a blanket. No longer could it be seen from where Render stood. The clouds rose up such that it surrounded him utterly. All that could be perceived now was Valhandra's light, shining through the white mist.
"COME."
Render stretched one foot over the edge and began to lose his balance. Immediately, he planted it back on the edge of the cliff and shuddered. "Sire, I...I cannot."
"DO I NOT KNOW THY FEARS, DEAR CHILD? TO LIVE AND DIE WITHOUT PURPOSE? OR THAT THOU SHOULDST NEVER KNOW THE TRUTH REGARDING THY MOTHER AND THY FATHER?"
Legs growing feeble again, Render knelt, which seemed a most appropriate posture.
"AND DO I NOT KNOW THY MOST PROFOUND DESIRES, CREATIVE DESIRES, TO MAKE SOMETHING OF GREAT WORTH WITH THY LIFE, TO LEAVE THY MARK UPON HISTORY?"
"Yes."
"AND WAS IT NOT I THAT PLANTED THESE DESIRES WITHIN THINE HEART?"
"And my fears?"
"THOSE ARE OF THY CORRUPTED NATURE, WHICH IS COMMON TO ALL, UNTIL THEY HAVE COME TO ME AND EXCHANGED IT FOR A NEW NATURE. THEREFORE, AGAIN I SAY TO THEE, COME."
Fear, corrupted nature? And what of that desire, planted by the Almighty Himself? Render had never before known what if felt like to be understood, to be known completely, the way a swordsmith knows his handiwork, a painter his subject, or an author his characters. He felt naked. And unashamed.
He hadn't noticed until now that he was standing in the illuminated mist with one foot dangling over the precipice. He began to move his other foot when he faltered. Let out a terrified gasp. "Sire, forgive me. I cannot!"
"I AM VALHANDRA, WHO CREATED THEE. WHO WATCHED AND WEPT WITH THEE AS THY BROTHER KAINE DIED IN THY ARMS. AND I AM HE THAT PUT THE LIGHTNING IN THY HANDS. WOULD I NOT KNOW WHAT THOU CANST AND CANST NOT DO?"
Lightning flashed brilliantly through the mist. "COME!"
To resist now seemed as sensible as walking face first into a closed door, while another door stood wide open next to it. Render shut his eyes.
// SIRE //
As he stepped off the ledge, he felt a sharp twinge cutting through him, from the heart, straight to the head. Beneath his feet now, nothing stood. Wind howled and wind rushed past his ears, through his hair.
He was falling.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Despite the rush of wind, the giddy sense of weightlessness, Render was not afraid. Not entirely. If this was the manner in which he was to meet his end, having heard the voice of Valhandra, seen his face, or a reflection of it anyway, it was well enough.
Somehow, death seemed not so frightening as he had imagined. Perhaps, when his body struck the ground, it would happen so quickly that he would barely feel any pain. It's not so bad.
"OPEN THINE EYES." The voice seemed closer now, intimate. Render obeyed, expecting the ground to come rushing up to crush his body into fragments. Instead, when he looked, his heart leapt with a jolting start that went to the tips of his fingers.
"BEHOLD."
"But... this is not possible!"
"FOR MAN, IT IS IMPOSSIBLE. BUT WITH ME, ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE."
Was he dreaming? Or perhaps he had already struck the ground and died. For when he gazed down, the clouds had parted and beneath him stretched across the valley. And about a hundred paces away, the edge of the cliff from which he'd stepped off.
"But how is it that I am not falling?"
"FOLLOW ME." Like a shooting star, Valhandra's luminescence blazed towards the summit of Mount Handara. With nothing more than his will, Render followed, unaware that the shadow he cast below was far too massive to have originated from someone of Render's youthful stature—a dark form with large bat-like wings and a jagged edged tail.
"I..I'm flying!" He spread his arms as though he were a bird, but realized he didn't need to do anything but desire to fly.
When they arrived at Handara's snow capped peak, Render held his position. Exhilarated and breathing deeply, he smiled. Suspended in the air, a hot jet of wind blowing in his face, he no longer saw the rocks or the earth below, nor the sides of the mountains. But in the center of the glowing light, he beheld what appeared to be moving images, faces of great lords, kings, emperors, cities flowing with prosperity and peace. He also saw bloodshed, battles, and men, women and children fleeing in droves from burning villages. And as all this went on, time, in his own plane of existence had not so much stopped as it had paused. Paused so he could look upon the images Valhandra now displayed in what could only be described as a borderless rectangular window.
"This world, and all the creatures in it," began Valhandra, "is my handiwork. Moreover, they are my children, whom I love." The window turned dark until all was black, save a pinpoint of silver light. That light grew until it filled the window utterly. And in a flash, it was gone. In its wake lay terrestrial spheres, stars in the firmaments. Render dared not breathe. "By my word, have I wrought manifold worlds. And upon a precious few have I bestowed my favor. Yea, there shall be other worlds yet to be born, but none until this, unto which thou hast been called, hath been redeemed."
Over the one sphere, a crystal-like globe, lush with green and alluvial continents between the liquid sapphire which flowed between them. Render understood to be his own world, and marveled at this view from the heavens.
But presently, an ominous shadow fell and enshrouded the land and sea. The shadow came not from outside, but from within. As drops of ink taints water until the entire goblet has turned black.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
“Behold, the beginning." Valhandra's voice resounded. "From its birth have I blessed this world with freedom, wisdom, beauty and limitless bounty. All were one in spirit and purpose and harmony.
All at once, Render's senses fell away. It was as if he no longer inhabited his body. All was light and word and knowledge and wisdom.
But one of my creatures—not terrestrial, but celestial in origin—purposed within himself to travel a path which I, Valhandra had not ordained. Malakandor, the chief messenger, of whom I considered myself a father, had allowed evil to take root in his heart. To corrupt and foul from within that glorious spirit which had been given him, beautiful above and beyond all created spirits.
"O my Father," said he. "Grant what I wi
sh, for I am thy beloved son."
"Indeed, thou art so."
Malakandor, already darkened in spirit, came forth. "Grant that I would have dominion over this new world. For I am created in thy image, and shall thus rule over it as thou wouldst."
"Take heed," said I, "For what thou asketh, cometh not from a pure heart, but from pride and greed."
"But it is my birthright."
"My son, it is not for you to rule, but to prophesy a divine and most honorable appointment."
At this, Malakandor, who had served faithfully through the ends of twenty-five hundred worlds, grew indignant. With great fury he rushed forward. "Then thou hast misappointed me! Beyond prophet, beyond envoy am I, for I possess power of which thou has no knowledge."
But nothing is hidden from me. Though Malakandor believed otherwise, whether by self-deception or the blindness of lust, all knew that Malakandor had turned his divine abilities towards darkness and manifested that which can only be so by choosing to abandon one's design, one's destiny.
"My son," said I, "As with all my creation, this world was born of love. Wouldst thou defile it by thy greed and lust for power?"
"Behold! The people, how restless they grow! They long to see, and not rely on mere faith. They seek empirical evidence of their deity, and yet, you do not reveal yourself. How then, shall they know their purpose and destiny?"
"They know. For I have written and set eternity on the tablets of their hearts. Within their spirits, they long for their creator. They long to become all they were meant to be. And the evidence they seek is in the heavens, in their books of law and prophecy, and most importantly, Malakandor, through the message thou hast been ordained to send them at such a time as this—when they grow so restless."
"They desire a monarchy! To rule with strength. To lead them into an age of self-discovery, self-reliance and self-determination. Surely, they have the right— "
"They know not what they ask. Verily, I say unto thee, even thou knoweth not what thou asketh."
"But I do."
"To rule a world, thou must drink of the cup which maketh he that drinketh it worthy. But bitter is this cup. Only through the denial of thyself, sacrifice, and unconditional love for my children, shall anyone be given to rule."
At this Malakandor scoffed. "Such weakness! I shall do no such thing. Nay, I shall rise up like the morning star. I shall take that which pleases me. I shall rule with the power which even thou, O my great father, cannot contain."
"Not so, my son. Look to thy brother Kronis."
"He is but a feeble and obsequious lamb!"
"Yet by his sacrifice, his obedience and love, he rules all the worlds I have birthed and have yet to birth."
This caused Malakandor's heart to burn, for he hated his brother. "Compare me not to my brother! This world shall be mine. The people desire me and I will rule over them, even now!"
"Though by force thou taketh dominion, thy reign shalt not be legitimate. For no authority can be taken, only granted. And only to the worthy."
"What do I care for your legitimacy, your worthiness, when I have all the power I require? I am beyond such insignificant rules."
"Nevertheless, thou shalt not rule."
"How will you prevent me, old fool?" Malakandor raised his hand. Fire streamed forth as a sword and he pointed it to his Father's heart.
"No more canst thou take my kingdom than thou canst take my life." Valhandra spread wide his hands, and with open arms, stepped forward.
And behold, Malakandor plunged the flaming sword into my breast. Not resisting I fell.
Triumph maliciously burned in Malakandor's eyes. "Lo, I shall take this thrice-accursed world, as I have taken thy very life!"
Presently Kronis entered into my court. "What manner of treachery is this!" He cried lifting his hand towards his brother. Glowing white and blue streaks of lightning crackled.
But I, Valhandra, wounded and appearing rather powerless intervened. I reached up and grasped Kronis by the arm. "Suffer him to live, for it shall be but for a season." I turned to Malakandor. "My son. Thou hast taken nothing. For I have freely given it. But not for thy sake." I heaved a sigh, shut my eyes and then, before Malakandor's very eyes, vanished.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
“But you could not have died," Render said, still suspended somewhere in time and space. "You're still here."
"Indeed, before the first grain of sand slipped through the hour glass, I was. I am, and am yet to be."
"But Malakandor—"
"He believed he had killed me because he wished it so."
"And Kronis? Where is he?"
Then Valhandra did something Render never expected. At first it sounded like thunder. But as he spoke, he realized that Valhandra was laughing gently. "He is nigh, my son. More than thou canst imagine. But he attends to many worlds, and his time here hath not yet come."
"Well, then what happened to Malakandor, did he end up ruling?" Render thought it might be so, because the current condition of the world, what with all the bloodshed, slavery and evil. Still, some things simply did not add up. "There are three, maybe four rulers, four kingdoms, not one."
"So you say. But presently all rule under the fist of Malakandor. Some knowingly, others not. For when Malakandor descended, he scattered my faithful and devised maleficence with those that demanded his power. To the East and the West, did he divide the central kingdom. To the North and South did he establish his own throne."
"I have heard tales of the giants of the North and the mysteries of the frozen South." Frightful tales which without thinking in detail were sufficient to cause a shiver to run down Render's back. "But you say that the Eastern and Western kingdoms were once united?"
"T'was once, when my chosen people established my tabernacle. They who in faith, sought my presence regardless of sight or evidence. They traveled as the four winds took them, from the ends of the entire world to seek me."
"Hence the name, Sojourners."
"Yes. But Malakandor drove them out, and the remnant were sold into slavery, or indoctrinated to revile my very name. In the East, he appointed oracles to be emperors and priests, those that espoused and worshipped his dark powers. My chosen remnant in Tian Kuo practices their belief in secret, for fear of torture and death."
With the inevitability of a perforated wine skin, Render felt as though his mind would burst. Not comprehending all that Valhandra said, he sensed that he had always known, always understood. And that this was merely a way of...remembering.
"And what of the West? Valdshire Tor? And their perpetual warfare?"
"Yet another of Malakandor's machinations. For at the time of the great schism, he agreed to grant full dominion to the Eastern Emperor and the High King of the West, upon one condition: That they utterly drive out the Sojourners and remove the very memory of them. And that they never permit the people of their kingdoms to reunite. Yea, the very memory of the era of peace and prosperity, when they knew me and enjoyed my favor, hath been expunged from their history, from their minds."
"How did the remnant survive this long?"
"Because I am with them. And amongst the people, I still have ancients, prophets and prophetesses who serve, as I had intended Malakandor to before his fall."
"But why did you permit this? Why did you not destroy Malakandor and all his followers? Why not erase every trace of evil?"
Again, the thunder rolled, Valhandra laughed. When he answered, he seemed neither angry nor impatient, but endearing, as though explaining something very simple to a child. "Dost thou perceive me as so narrow? So controlling?"
"I don't understand."
"Had I desired to create automatons, hollow beings without spirit or soul, I might have stopped him. Had I created any of my children devoid of free will, how then could they truly love me as children their Father? That shall not be forced. Nay, love must be borne of free will."
"But Malakandor ruined your entire world."
"Nothing is ruined, m
y son. For my plans are not as those of man. They cannot fail. I am the one true creator. And though my creatures, of their free will, chose the path they desire—some of which stretch longer and are rougher trodden than others—all lead ultimately to their intended destiny. And behold, I was, I am and shall always be the same."
The more Render listened to His voice, the more an unspeakable familiarity and recognition filled him. It connected to a visceral sense of his identity, but at this moment, he could not say just how. It welled up and drew his emotions, his thoughts, and his determination towards Valhandra, the way a Moshla is drawn to its spawning grounds.
"And now, the question for which thou hast waited thy entire life."
The question? Could there be only one? There was so much more that only He could answer: Render's future, that overwhelming need to live a life of significance, of purpose. What lad his age cared for such weighty matters? And yet, it had been seeded in his heart for as long as he could remember. But he also desperately wanted to know about his past, his father, his mother, people who were to him but a dim memory, and yet...
"All of thy life is summed up for such a time as this."
"Sire?"
"Even so, it is not an end, but a beginning. For thou hast been called to a manifold purpose and before the sun sets on that day, thou shall witness it come to pass."
A brisk gust of mountain air rushed at him and in that instant, he found himself surrounded by the white clouds again. But he could hear the wind, the birds singing, the leaves rustling. He was back.
"My son, I have chosen thee to unite my people and reestablish my kingdom."
"But the remnant, they are scattered."
"For this you have been called. Even now, by Malakandor's design, The Empress Dowager of the East has betrayed her covenant with the High King of the Western Kingdom. Though she believes she will prevail and conquer the West, Malakandor's intent is that both kingdoms destroy each other."
Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) Page 22
