The Path to the Sun (The Fallen Shadows Trilogy)

by Kimberli Bindschatel

  Once back on the island, Angei-Ami led them to a row of straw-roofed bunkhouses. Cartus, along with two girls and three other boys about the same ages as the Torans, greeted them with smiles. “These are your brothers and sisters,” Angei-Ami said. “They will help you to get settled.” She smiled with a dismissive nod and turned to leave.

  Roh went after her, saying something that Kiran couldn’t hear.

  She turned and eyed him up and down. Her lips parted slightly and she gazed into his eyes for a long moment. “You are welcome to stay as long as you would like,” she said.

  Cartus stepped forward, looking directly at Kiran. “I am honored to welcome you and share with you the love of Ani.”

  Kiran blinked. “You can speak. Why didn’t you talk to us before, when we arrived?”

  “Here, in the Kingdom, we show our reverence in silence, which reminds us of our place and our commitment to servitude.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, I’m glad. I have so many questions.”

  “I’m sure you do. Please come with me. It is my role to teach you our ways here in the Kingdom of the Kotari,” he said with the same smile. His facial expression did not seem to change.

  Kiran took several steps after Cartus, then turned back to Bria, then Roh. “I’d prefer to stay with the others,” he said, chewing on his lip. “We need to stay together.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. We’re all here together.” He gestured toward the greeters. “It is our duty to answer your questions and make each of you feel welcome. It is my honor.” He bent in a subtle bow, then put his hand on Kiran’s shoulder. “I can see, what you need is a good rest.”

  He was right; Kiran was tired. He didn’t want to offend the young man, so, he acquiesced. His eyes were drawn to the boy’s star-shaped scar.

  Cartus’s hand went to his forehead. “This is the mark of Ani. So that I may be recognized.”

  “Recognized for what?”

  “That I am one of the chosen. And you too, in time, will be taken into the Kingdom and sealed by the star, so that you may be a Receiver of Light.”

  A Receiver of Light? The Guardian had spoken about the Coming of Light—and the Voice. But Kiran couldn’t recall him mentioning what it meant to be a Receiver of Light. Kiran wanted to ask, but didn’t want to appear too ignorant or as if he were questioning too much. He’d ask Roh about it later.

  Cartus eyed his pack. “There is no need to carry the load.”

  Kiran’s fingers wrapped around the strap. “It’s no bother.”

  “Soon you will see. Ani provides all that you need. Your material belongings will no longer matter.”

  He took a path that led into the forest, talking as he went. “Here, in the Kingdom, you will find peace. Serving Ani is the greatest honor. There is no greater reward than His love.”

  “Tell me about the Guardian,” Kiran said.

  “He is the chosen of Ani, the Guardian of Light. He is the divine messenger and we are his brethren. Only through him are we guided in service.”

  “Is he…” Kiran hesitated. If he asked, would Cartus think he was questioning? “Is he truly the wise man? Of the Legend?”

  “He is indeed.”

  Kiran drew in a breath and started to shake with excitement. Cartus continued on as if it was just another day.

  To their left, the forest opened up into a clearing where the soil had been trampled to hard-packed ground. “This is the Body Temple, for dawn meditations,” Cartus said, never slowing. The trail continued toward a large rectangular structure with a grass roof. “That is the dining hut. We all eat together.” He turned right. On the left was a stable of goats and other animals Kiran did not recognize.

  They continued on, approaching the tiny grass-covered hut in which he had been served the food earlier. “The island isn’t nearly as large as I had thought,” Kiran said.

  Cartus came to a stop and crossed his arms. “No more than we need. It is in His service that we are rewarded.”

  In His service? Was everyone here dedicated to the Great Father? Like the Elders back home? Had they all taken the vows? Was this his opportunity to become an Elder? A ripple of excitement ran through him. “What do I need to do to become a Receiver of Light?”

  “Each of us has something unique to contribute for the good of all, according to his ability.”

  “Oh, but is there a vow or something like that?”

  “If you live by His Word, you are a Receiver of Light. Is it the Right of Emergence that you ask about?

  Kiran nodded, although he had no idea what it was.

  “No one has earned it yet. Only the Guardian has the right. Only he is worthy.”

  Cartus continued down the path. Kiran pointed over the dining hut across the river to the far canyon wall. “What’s over there? On the other side of the canyon?”

  “I don’t know,” Cartus said flatly.

  “Well, aren’t you curious?”

  “I serve Ani here. It is not the will of Ani that I go there. I do not question this.”

  Kiran blushed, feeling scolded.

  “You must understand that generally, talking while we are in His service, is not done.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s all right, for now, as you are still in need of guidance. But soon, you will be expected to be reverent as well. You see, our voices are to remain in the shadow of His voice. Only the Guardian has the divine connection. We must be mindful so we are not led astray. Talking can easily breed sin. In the past, we’ve had those who preached the poison of the unfaithful. If you become aware of anyone who speaks that evil, you must report him right away.” They arrived back at the bunkhouses. “In fact, we are to exhort one another daily, lest any of us be hardened through the sin of deceitfulness. We must maintain our faith. When the time comes, all the world will look to the Guardian for guidance, and we will be at his right hand.”

  Cartus led him to the fourth bunkhouse down the row. Twelve sleeping mats lined the walls, six on each side. There was a wooden box next to each. No personal items in sight. “Who sleeps here?” Kiran asked.

  “There is your mat.” Cartus pointed to one near the center of the room. “You’ve traveled far. I’m sure you are eager to rest.” He reached for Kiran’s pack. “Let me take that for you.”

  Kiran gripped the strap. He knew that when Elders took their vows, they gave up all worldly possessions. He supposed he wouldn’t need his things. He only had dirty clothes and traveling gear, but they were his. And the scroll. He couldn’t let anyone know he had the scroll. They would realize he could scribe and he would be punished. He needed some time to think.

  “I have to relieve myself,” he said. “Where do I go?”

  “Oh, yes, right this way.” Cartus led him to the shore. “You may go here, directly into the river. Everything you expel is washed away.”

  “Thank you,” Kiran said, staring into the frothy water, waiting for Cartus to leave.

  Cartus stood, his arms crossed. Kiran eyed him, unsure what to say. He nodded his head, silently urging Cartus to go. “I…ah…would like some privacy.”

  Cartus hesitated. Finally, he shrugged as though he was uncomfortable, but acquiesced.

  That’s odd, Kiran thought.

  He quickly scanned the area. Just inside the treeline, he spotted a pile of exposed rocks. He checked to be sure the scroll’s mantle was secure, wrapped it in his blanket, and piled the stones on top. From his pack, he took the Pyletar he had made for Bria, slipped it onto a piece of cord, tied it around his neck, and tucked it inside his tunic. Then he headed back down the path.

  When he returned, he found the bunkhouse occupied with boys and men, all dressed in white tunics, silently readying for bed. As he opened the door, heads turned, erupting with smiles and hellos. “Welcome to House Four,” someone said. “Welcome to the family.”

  Kiran hung onto the doorframe. “Thank you,” he said, taking in all the new faces.

  “We are honored to have you,” he heard from a
nother voice. Eleven heads bowed.

  Kiran blushed.

  “Please, come. Sit.” A young man about his same age and height put his arm around Kiran and led him to the center of the room. “Tell us all about yourself.”

  The others gathered around, sitting crossed-legged, their full attention on Kiran. The weight of all those eyes on him made his stomach twist in his belly and his mind went blank.

  “Uh… about me?”

  “Where do you come from? What has brought you to us?”

  “Well…” He told them of the village. They were most interested in his relationship with Aldwyn and persisted in inquiry about why he would leave home. He told them of the drought and how they had set out during a Javinian raid. The boys hung on his every word, wanting to know more. So he told them of the quest, how he was seeking the Voice. Then he told them of his time spent with the Lendhi, although he did not mention the staff.

  After a while, he started to relax and enjoy the attention. They were truly interested in him. Every remark, every part of his story, they wanted to know more. So, he continued, including more details as he went. When he got to the part where he climbed to the top of the canyon, one boy gushed with praise. “You are a brave soul, brother. I admire you greatly. I could never do such a thing.”

  Kiran didn’t know how to respond. He’d never received such compliments, let alone admiration. They really liked him! He talked and talked. When he got to the part in the story where he’d arrived on the island, he paused.

  “What is the trouble?” someone asked.

  Kiran looked at the faces of his new friends, trying to gauge their sincerity. Surely they’d understand his reservations, he decided. “We weren’t so sure this was the place we were looking for.”

  An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Cartus whispered, “Kiran, if you have those kinds of feelings, you are not to speak of it. You are to go to the Angei. Do you understand?”

  Kiran glanced around the room. Eleven faces stared, waiting for his response. He nodded, as though he understood. The Angei? What feelings? Did he mean feelings of doubt?

  “You are just tired now. Wait and see. All will become clear. You will bask in the love of the Guardian. You are family now, my brother.”

  The others, men and boys alike, joined in. “You are one of us,” he heard someone say. “You are family.” Kiran let out his breath, relieved. Yes, he could wait and see. What harm was there in that?

  The brothers settled down on their mats for the night. “Oh, my manners!” Kiran sat upright. “I didn’t even ask your names.”

  “You call us brother, of course,” said the boy next to him.

  Brother, he thought, grinning. He looked around the room. I have brothers.

  He lay back down on his mat. He couldn’t remember a time when he had been so happy.

  Before dawn, he was roused from bed and out the door. The forest was alive with chattering birds. At home, the birds sang in beautiful melodies, but here, it was a squawking ruckus. It would take some time to get used to.

  They took the path toward the clearing Cartus had called the Body Temple. Kiran was concentrating on keeping up with his brother in front of him, so as not to lose sight of him in the pitch dark, when suddenly a shrieking howl ripped through the forest. Kiran halted in his tracks and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck. “Brother, what was that?”

  The man behind him urged him along, whispering, “The lost who have forsaken Ani.” He shook his head with pity. “Tormented souls.”

  A shiver ran up Kiran’s spine. Tormented souls? Forsaken Ani? “What do you mean?”

  “Unbelievers.” The howl bellowed through the forest again. Kiran cringed, his eyes searching in the dark for the source.

  At the Body Temple, the group spread out, forming three lines, standing more than an arm’s length apart. One of the brothers moved to the front to lead the group.

  In rhythmic motions, the leader thrust his clenched fists outward while simultaneously chanting, “Praise Ani! Praise Ani!” Kiran followed along, mirroring the leader’s movements as best he could. With each thrust, he pushed air out of his lungs in a heavy exhalation. “Praise Ani!” huff, “Praise Ani!” huff. Then the leader changed the pattern. With his feet wide apart and his arms held above his head, Kiran bowed at the waist, holding his arms stiffly outright, as he rapidly bent forward, blowing out air as fast and forcefully as he could muster. “Praise Ani!” huff, “Praise Ani!” huff.

  Soon, Kiran felt dizzy, his toes and lips began to tingle, but he kept going. He had to keep pace with the others. Before long, his heart started to race and there was a ringing in his ears. He tried to focus on the leader, but a blue mist drifted before his eyes. His hands cramped into tight fists and he crumpled to the ground, his head spinning. All went black.

  He awoke, lying on his back, limp and exhausted. Cartus was leaning over him. “You have touched the spirit of Ani!” he proclaimed. “You have the gift!”

  “But I don’t… I felt dizzy.”

  “That is how you are supposed to feel in His presence. You have experienced the power of Ani’s love. Embrace Him.”

  Another of his brothers dropped to his knees next to Kiran. “Brother, do you know what this means? You’ll be one of the chosen. You will earn the star.”

  Kiran rubbed his temples. “Do you hear, brother? You’ll be one of the chosen,” he heard another brother saying. He looked to his new brothers, standing over him, and smiled. One of the chosen. He had never wanted anything more.

  The brothers of House Four filed into the great dining hut, the only sounds those of shuffling feet and clanking bowls. Kiran took his place in line, his arms at his sides, his head down, trying to follow the order of decorum. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bria at a table nearby. She looked happy, smiling as she ate. He hoped to catch her eye, but as he shuffled toward the serving table, she never looked up from her bowl.

  He took the bowl he was served and followed his brothers to their table. Kiran tapped his spoon on his leg as he waited for his brothers to find their seats. Finally, when the last of his brothers was seated, he dug in, scooping out a heaping spoonful and shoving it into his mouth. He rolled the lumpy porridge over his tongue and swallowed hard, but the coarse grain stuck in his throat. This was not the platter of fruits and meats he had been offered the day before. He whispered to the boy seated next to him, “Is this what you are served every day?”

  The boy kept his head down. “Yes, to cleanse the body and soul. To overindulge is a sin.”

  A sin? Kiran thought. But I’m so hungry. Why was it all right yesterday, but not today? he wanted to ask, but the boy gave him a warning glance.

  Bria’s group stood to leave and Kiran leaned back on the bench, craning his neck, hoping she would see him. She turned his way and their eyes met. His heart skipped a beat. He wanted to jump up and run to her, but he remained seated, in his expected place. He had learned already the code of silence and would have to be content to watch her as she walked by. His eyes lingered on her, taking in the grace of her movements, her strong yet womanly body. Just being apart for one night had made him ache to be near her. Being apart didn’t feel right.

  Cartus nudged him. “Brother, keep your mind on your business.” Kiran pulled his eyes from Bria, feeling scolded, although he wasn’t sure why. What did it hurt to look her way? He dropped his chin and stared into the bowl of tasteless mush.

  From the dining hut, the brothers of House Four went directly to the garden to harvest the vegetables grown there. Kiran had never seen gardens like these. Rather than planting in rows, flat-topped mounds of soil had been built for clusters of crops. Several tall, grass-like plants, called maize, grew close together in the center of each mound. Bean plants grew on the maize stalk, climbing it like a pole, while squash plants surrounded the base, their broad leaves spreading to block sunlight and prevent weeds. Cartus explained how these three crops relied on each other; it was difficult to grow one with
out the others. They were grown year-round. As soon as one was harvested, they replanted the mound.

  Kiran’s back began to ache from bending over. He stopped to wipe sweat from his brow and caught a glimpse of Jandon walking down the path with Angei-Ami. His hair was wet, but Kiran was sure it was him, strolling along with his casual gait. But why was he with her? And why was his hair wet?

  A brother dropped a bag at his feet, ripped it open, and dumped a pile of dark, rich humus atop a mound. Cartus handed Kiran a rake. “Spread the fertilizer, evenly across the mound,” he said.

  Kiran had never heard of such a thing. “What is it exactly? Where does it come from?”

  Cartus stopped what he was doing and gave Kiran the smile. “I don’t know.”

  Kiran stared at him a moment. Aren’t you curious? he wanted to ask, but he already knew the answer.

  From there, they went directly to a shaded area and gathered in a circle to chant and sing. With the songs still on his lips, Kiran followed his brothers to bathe in the cold river and back to their bunkhouse to dress in another crisp white tunic for dinner and the evening sermon. There was no break, no rest; they went from one task to the next. But Kiran didn’t mind. He relished the companionship of his new brothers and was eager to again stand in the presence of the Guardian to hear his message.

  At last, the day neared its close, and for the second and final meal, Kiran was served a watery succotash of maize and beans. He gulped it down, too hungry to complain. He looked for Bria again, but didn’t see her this time until on his way out, in the stable, he caught a glimpse of red hair. There she was, tending to the goats, cooing at them as she fed them from her hands. They had found the wise man, had completed their journey. Now, they simply had to wait, with reverent obedience, for the Day of Thunder. So, why did he feel restless? He gazed at Bria, longing to be near her again, to hear her giggle. Was this what it felt like to be an Elder? To give up so much? Sure, Elders could marry, but only after they were fully ordained. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stand it.