Overture

by K R Schultz

  Simea glowered at Kyonna but remained silent.

  Aibhera slipped off her pack’s shoulder straps and let it fall to the ground. “Let’s stop here for a meal and rest until things cool down. Hopefully, we can reach the canyon soon.”

  Kyonna slumped to the ground beside her sister. “I could use a break. My feet are sore. Even my blisters have blisters. I don’t know how you managed to walk so far.”

  “Simea and I walked everywhere in Abalon, while you made loop de loops overhead with your glider. You never walked across the caldera like we did.”

  “Okay. I get it. I’ve led a pampered existence.” Kyonna winced as she removed her boots, flexed her bare toes, and examined the blisters on the soles of her feet.

  Once they finished eating, Simea said, “Let’s read the scroll Eideron left while we wait.”

  Ky curled her lip. “That should be interesting.”

  As Simea unrolled the scroll, a scrap of paper fell onto the gully’s gravel floor. Aibhera picked it up and unfolded it. “It’s a note from Eideron.” She read it aloud, although her tears soaked the paper and blurred the words on the page.

  If you are reading this note before I have read the enclosed scroll to you, I am no longer with you. This is one of my favorite stories. I have always liked it, and I hope you find it useful. It is a condensed version of The Book of Songs. Please take the time to read it. Although it ends on an ominous note, it may provide helpful insight.

  Kyonna wrapped her arms around Aibhera. “Sim, why don’t you read the scroll.”

  Simea wiped hot tears from his own cheeks and read:

  The One existed, and He was alone in the vast and empty void. He sang forth His songs. The melody flowed out of the abundance of joy in His heart. It filled the darkness with bliss.

  “It is good, but let Us create with Our song.”

  He sang the universe into existence. Thus, He became the Creator. Its brilliance glittered and shone in the void. Pleased by His work, He sang to the stars, and although they gave light to the darkness, He sought to create further splendor. The Creator sang Aarda into existence that it might be the choice jewel of His creation.

  The Creator spoke again. “Let Us create living beings to share in Our song and sing with Us.” He sang the Aethera into existence. They were brilliant creatures of light and power. The Aethera shone like the stars, but they were living beings, able to harmonize with Him, and share His pleasure. The Aethera loved their Creator while they journeyed among the stars and added their songs to His. Their harmonies filled the universe with a chorus of sound and color, beautiful, incredible, and intricate. Creator and creature sang together for uncountable ages in sweetness and harmony.

  The Creator gave names to the Aethera and loved them like a father loves his children. He loved them and the beauty of their harmonies. In time, S’ek’zekaar, one of their number, became discontent to sing harmonies to the Creator’s tune. He composed a melody of his own, loud and strident, a song of power and purpose. It captivated him, and he contemplated rebellion against the Creator.

  S’ek’zekaar rejoiced in his own strength, for he knew his song would free him from the Creator’s control. The notes were discordant, but the power within them was seductive and beautiful to him. S’ek’zekaar’s melody seduced some of the Aethera, and they sang this new song with him. Discord arose among the Aethera. For the first time, chaos threatened creation.

  The Creator heard S’ek’zekaar’s song. He paused to decide where this new song led, and His silence filled the universe with an immense and awful emptiness. The Aethera wept in sorrow, and they tried to compensate with their own songs, but without the Creator’s power, their songs faltered, and discord deepened.

  S’ek’zekaar reveled in his power when the Creator stopped singing. The growing discord thrilled him. In his heart, he said, “Now I can make the universe as I wish. I will be its god, and all that exists shall be mine to rule. I shall set them free like I am free.” S’ek’zekaar became known as The Defiler since he brought chaos into the cosmos and defiled the purity of creation.

  The Creator commanded Naom’han, chief of the Aethera, to summon all the Aethera for a council. He commanded him to record this council for all time and for all creation. The Defiler and his followers demanded freedom from the Creator’s presence so they might do as they wished in the universe. The Creator granted their demands and allowed them to sever their connection to Him. They were free, but once they severed the connection to Him, they no longer had access to His power.

  Since they no longer shared the Creator’s life-sustaining power, their glory dimmed, and they became the creatures of darkness known as the Nethera or Dark Ones. For the first time since their creation, they experienced hunger. Since they no longer received power from the Creator, they drew energy from nature, consuming whatever they touched to satisfy their hunger, and it twisted them into grotesque forms.

  The loyal Aethera requested help tending Aarda and the rest of creation since the rebellion among them reduced their numbers, and the task was enormous. The Creator spoke again and said, “Let us sing together once more and bring forth more life, for it will balance the discord in creation. Let us sing mankind into existence.”

  The Divine melody took root in the water, earth, and air of Aarda, and the Abrhaani, the Eniila, and the Sokai ancestors became living beings.

  The Creator gave mankind charge over Aarda to tend it and care for it. The Creator gave the rest of the universe to the Aethera to manage. Aethera helped mankind to care for Aarda, watched over humanity, and helped all the species create and sing their own songs. Aarda flourished under their care.

  Mankind’s new chant of life upon Aarda restored harmony to the universe. The Creator rested and said, “Continue, my beloved ones, sing as you please. Sing well, for I will judge what you create with your songs and your lives.”

  Mankind multiplied and grew powerful. Men built cities, wondrous machines, and devices and gloried in their creations.

  S’ek’zekaar became angry with mankind because men had restored harmony in creation. His ominous tune, filled with a hunger for power, gave him an appetite for men. Once the Nethera discovered that human life provided superior nourishment, they seduced humanity with S’ek’zekaar’s melody and its promise of freedom and personal power. So men desired power for themselves, as S’ek’zekaar did. Men strove against each other. In their pursuit of power, mankind learned warfare, and the Nethera feasted on the lives of multitudes.

  Simea looked at the girls, who waited expectantly for him to continue reading. “That’s all. There’s nothing else written here.” He passed the document to the sisters so they could see for themselves.

  The sun had sunk low in the sky outside their protected shelter. Even in the waning light, they could see there was nothing else written there.

  “I’m too tired to walk any farther today,” Kyonna said. “Let’s camp here for the night; we can have a fire since the overhang will keep any glider scouts from spotting it.”

  No one argued. The heat had sapped their strength.

  “Why don’t you girls gather brush and twigs while I set up camp. “A fire tonight sounds appealing.” Simea set about building a ring of stones to contain the fire and leveling spots for their bedrolls. The sisters’ voices, chatting as they worked, echoed, and lent an air of homey calm to the evening until chittering squeaks and the sound of falling pebbles farther ahead made Simea stop and listen. He strained to hear, but when he heard nothing more, he shook his head and unrolled their bedding. Must have imagined it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Prayer-Songs

  “That’s all it says,” Simea rolled the document and re-tied the thong around the scroll. “Why would Eideron leave us this useless legend? It’s no good to us?”

  Aibhera’s forehead wrinkled as she searched for an answer. “I have no idea.” Suddenly she brightened, and her hands fluttered in her lap. “When I tried to rescue you from the Aether,
I panicked and couldn’t focus until I sang Papa’s song.” She nudged her sister. “Remember…the one he sang for us…before bedtime. It calmed me and anchored—”

  “It’s like when I… Never mind.” Kyonna gave a quick shake of her head.

  “It’s like what, Ky?” Simea asked.

  “Forget about it. Go on, Aibby. Finish what you were about to say,” Kyonna said.

  “What if songs help us connect to the Creator, like a prayer. What if they open a doorway to Him? The song reminded me of home, so the prayer-song anchored me and allowed me to reach out, wake Eideron, and transport him to the Aether. If you had done something similar, Simea, you might not have become stranded.”

  “I suppose it’s possible,” Simea said. He stared blankly into the distance while he tried to recall the details of his time spent in the Aether.

  “What did Eideron tell you about Quickenings? You still haven’t explained them to me like you promised.” Kyonna frowned. “What other magic can we do?”

  Simea said, “Not magic, Ky. We present ourselves to the Creator, and once His power flows through us, we become capable of the incredible feats recorded in our legends and histories. We must reach beyond the Aetherial plane to the Creator of all. He is the source of all power in the universe.

  “Even the Aethera receive their strength from Him. I have learned, to my shame and regret, that we become more susceptible to the Nethera’s influence when we reach the Aetherial plane. The Nethera exist beyond the dark barrier, which separates the Aether from the Nether. The Nethera’s presence paralyzed me with fear and would have killed me, if not for Shel’gharim’s intervention. That is why the Synod Council trains apprentices in moral and ethical development before they attempt to teach Quickenings.”

  Aibhera stared at the ground while Simea confessed his weakness and explained Eideron’s teachings. His explanation saved her from repeating her own story of guilt and shame, the result of Nethera influence.

  “Ah, I see,” Kyonna said.

  “Eideron mentioned prophecy, discernment, travel, and protection, but he said the possibilities were limitless,” Aibhera said.

  “What was the song you used, Aibby?” Simea asked.

  “The one Papa sang to us at home when we were little, ‘Aamori’s House.’”

  “Oh! I know that one too,” Simea brightened and slapped his knee.

  “That might be the song’s purpose. The words describe the things Aamori misses in her house and lists them until she realizes that she misses her family more than anything.” Aibhera laid a hand on Kyonna’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you we were leaving. I missed you most of all.” Aibhera’s voice quavered, so Kyonna took her sister’s hand, encouraging her to continue. “The lyrics remind you of familiar things and focus you on home and family, and they express a longing to return—”

  Simea bounded to his feet. “Hey! What if ‘Dragan’s Wall’ was like ‘Aamori’s House’? The words of the song ask the Creator for protection against threats, for example, in the chorus, it says:

  Hide us in the safety of Your presence.

  Hedge us from the wicked schemes of all.

  Save us from the evil and the darkness.

  Surround us, save us, build us a strong wall.

  A prayer-song that builds a wall of protection around us sounds super useful.”

  “Yes, an invisible wall, remember the line from the second verse, ‘To keep the beasts at bay.’ If the Creator could make an invisible barrier, the prayer-song might work that way. Let’s try it now. We might need protection soon. We should test our theory before we need it. Help us sing it now, Ky.”

  The sound of their voices blended and flowed, echoing off the ravine’s walls. The vibrations cut through Aarda’s atmosphere, penetrated the Aether, and traveled upward. The youngsters’ bodies tingled with energy that flowed down a pathway their song had opened. Once they made the connection, a wall of light formed and thickened as they continued. When the barrier shimmered and stabilized, Ky stopped singing, but the wall held.

  “Stop, Aibby, but Sim, keep on singing.”

  Aibby fell silent while Simea held the wall alone. The sisters shared a grin, and their eyes sparkled with triumph in the waning light.

  “Remember the second chorus about the gate in the wall, Aibby? We always sang it as a round with the song.”

  “Let’s.”

  The sisters began the second chorus; the wall shimmered and faded in one place just before the entire wall winked out.

  “Forgive me. I can’t continue.” Simea’s shoulders sagged, and his arms hung loosely at his sides. “I’m so tired I can barely stand, and my throat is raw from breathing dust all day.”

  “It’s okay, Sim, besides, it’s late.” Aibhera unpacked their provisions for an evening meal while the shadows changed from gray to black., Simea lit the brushwood Ky had collected. The oily wood sent a plume of black smoke skyward while the flames cut through the chill air of the canyon bottom and cast flickering shadows on the rough rock surfaces around them.

  Night fell like an ax and chopped off the light, except for a tiny strip of stars overhead that glimmered cold and distant in the black sky above them. The firelight formed a bright haven from the utter darkness around them. The dancing shadows and the echoes of their voices gave an ominous chill to the evening that the fire did not dispel.

  They ate their ration of dried fruit and bread huddled around the campfire while wrapped in their blankets. They discussed the potential and value of other ancient songs. After they had exhausted all the possibilities, the youngsters curled up around the circle of warmth the fire provided.

  “What was that? Simea stiffened and sat up wide-eyed, trying to peer through the darkness. “I thought I heard squeaking noises last night, too…but it’s louder tonight.”

  “Probably rats.” Aibhera elbowed him and smiled.

  “No, I heard it too.” Kyonna stood and stared into the darkness. “Not rats…something bigger than rats.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Dark Canyon

  The young Sokai awoke and emerged from their bedrolls chilled and tired. After a cold breakfast from the provisions Ky brought with her, they began their trek anew. Above them, the sun seared the lava plain into a blazing furnace. While they descended, the walls of the depression gradually grew taller around them as the ravine wound and twisted downward. Until the sun reached its zenith, the narrow declivity shielded them from the blistering sun. At midday, the defile became an oven again. Heat pummeled them from all sides as the black stone absorbed the sun’s energy and reflected it in shimmery waves.

  Kyonna, clothes soaked in sweat, struggled under the weight of her pack. If not for my boots, the ground would burn the skin off my feet. My mouth feels as dry as the gravel underfoot, and water doesn’t quench this thirst. She glanced at her sister and Simea. Sim and Aibby aren’t any better off than I am. “I doubt the lava beneath Abalon is hotter than this,” Ky said, flushed from exertion and red-eyed from the glare. “How long until nightfall?”

  “Hang on, sis, once the sun sinks below this gully’s rim, you’ll long for warmth. This barren hellhole is either too hot or too cold, never comfortable.”

  “It’s no wonder nothing lives here,” Ky said.

  “Are you sure you saw water in the canyon when you flew over it? I hope you’re not leading us to our deaths. At this rate, our canteens will run dry before tomorrow night.” Sim shook his canteen in Ky’s face to emphasize his point. “You hear that? It’s almost half empty.”

  “Yes, I definitely saw water in a canyon ahead. I circled several times to make certain before I set the glider down next to you on the plain. This ravine leads into a gorge, and we’re nearly there. It’s probably around the next bend or two.”

  They plodded on. Rocks and gravel crunched and rattled beneath their feet, echoing off the stone around them. The two bends Kyonna predicted became a distant memory. They trudged farther, and when two more twists
in the channel did not lead them into the gorge, Simea turned on Kyonna once more. “You will get us killed. We should turn back.”

  “Simea, why would we go back?” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “We’re almost there. You’ll die on the plain. When your water and supplies run out, your bones will bleach in the sun.”

  “Look.” Simea raised his voice and pointed ahead. “This gully ends in a solid rock wall. If we don’t go back, we’ll have to climb out anyway. We’ll die, and it’s your fault.”

  “Are you joking? The heat has cooked your brain,” Kyonna stiffened and stepped toward him. “If not for the supplies I brought, you’d be a pile of roasted meat out on that plain by tomorrow. I saved you, but you want to blame me? The wrong direction? We’re following Eideron’s map! I say we keep going, and if we must scale the wall ahead, then we’ll scale the wall. I haven’t bitched about my blisters, so stop whining and walk.” She shoved him forward.

  Aibhera stepped between them and pushed them apart. “We are all tired and irritable from this heat. If Kyonna says the canyon lies ahead, I believe her.” She clenched her fists. “I am tired of you sniping at each other. Simea, you can stay here or go back, but Kyonna and I are headed forward.” Aibhera stomped toward the rock face that sealed the far end of the ravine while Kyonna and Simea glared at each other.

  Before Aibhera neared the ravine’s end, the west side became bathed in shadows, and the air had cooled noticeably. She stood in front of the wall at the end of the ravine and shouted, “Are you coming, or will you glare at each other until dark when you freeze to death?” She beckoned them forward. “You must see this. Come on and follow me.”

  Kyonna and Simea ended their standoff and trudged toward Aibhera but threw angry glares at each other every few steps as they moved forward. Before they had gone far, Aibby disappeared. Simea and Kyonna stopped, baffled by Aibhera’s disappearance, exchanged a puzzled look, and forced their leaden legs into a trot.