The Path to the Sun (The Fallen Shadows Trilogy)

by Kimberli Bindschatel

  At the ring of a bell, every member of the twelve Houses of the Kingdom of the Kotari proceeded across the bridge to gather under the great roof, stopping only to wash their feet in the first pool. As Kiran entered the pavilion, he searched the mass of faces for Roh, but did not see him in the crowd.

  When the Guardian appeared, the room charged with energy, as though the sun had burst free from behind a wall of clouds. He moved to the edge of the platform and raised his hands high in the air. An audible hush came over the crowd. “This is a most glorious day,” he sang out. “Pilgrims have been delivered unto us, searching for the true path. Let us welcome them with love, and dedicate ourselves to their care, that they may learn how to pray and sing in preparation to bear witness at The Coming of Light. Praise Ani!”

  “Praise Ani!” shouted the followers in response.

  Kiran’s spirit soared. He still couldn’t believe it was true; they had made it. Their journey was over.

  The Guardian spread his arms wide, gesturing toward the grand vista that surrounded them. “Let us not fear that Ani has not chosen us, for I have witnessed His love in rich streams, flowing from the mountains on high, and heavy abundance, here in His kingdom.” He held up a bright orange fruit. “In seeing these truths, we know we are the chosen. We see Ani’s hand lifted up and we are blessed.”

  Yes, just as He lifted up His hands to receive Elder Santon when he jumped, Kiran thought, nodding. If one simply believes. His mind raced back to that moment on the ledge. He had hesitated, had doubted. But no more. From now on, he vowed, he would not question. The Guardian was standing before him, the true wise man of the Legend.

  With baskets in hand, the ladies in the white robes went into the crowd. The room was filled with the sound of the followers sucking on the juicy fruit. Kiran moved to get a piece for himself and stopped in his tracks. There was Deke, carrying a basket of fruit. How had he been granted such an honor so quickly? And Kail was next to him, holding a basket in her hands as well. They were already at the right hand of the wise man.

  “Wherefore, my holy brethren, we shall lift up those who seek the Truth. We all know the wicked power of temptation.” The Guardian’s gaze fixed on Kiran. “I know what is in your heart and poisons your mind.” His eyes bore into Kiran and he felt transparent, certain the Guardian saw directly into his mind and read his every thought. He cowered in the face of judgment, shivering with guilt. “For I was once poisoned by the same evil, struggling to find my way. Harden your heart against that temptation and, in time, you too will find peace.”

  Kiran let out his breath. He knows what is in my heart, the struggle of my mind in constant questioning. And he does not judge me for it! He has felt it too!

  Looking into the Guardian’s eyes, Kiran felt a connection between them. The pull of his words tugged at Kiran’s soul, as though the Guardian spoke directly to him, in the common language, so that he might fully understand and be liberated from ignorance. Back home, the Elders spoke in the Tongue of the Father. When at last Aldwyn had agreed to teach him, he drank in the information with such gratification, to finally be allowed to seek pure knowledge of the Great Father. For him, on that day, life had begun.

  Now, he could continue that journey. The Guardian was the wise man of the Legend, and like the Elders from the Books of the Script, he was here to share divine knowledge. This man, standing before Kiran, would have the answers to all his questions; he was sure of it.

  “Take heed, you are on the true path; for faith is the path of the righteous.”

  Kiran paused, confused now. Wasn’t that what Deke had said on the mount? Just what did he mean? Did the Guardian understand and forgive? Or would Kiran have to prove his faith here too?

  “Do not be mistaken, it is a narrow path; the path to righteousness is total obedience.” The Guardian leaned forward. He lowered his voice and his eyes grew dark. “But beware those who say they love Ani and do not follow the Way. They are liars!” he spat. “They don’t really love Ani. They think that because they are here, in the Kingdom of the Kotari, it is enough, and they don’t have to serve. They may have the appearance of Ani’s servants, but speak lies against the Truth. Take heed, my brethren, lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief and the temptation to depart from the Kingdom. Out there,” he thrust his arm outward, pointing toward the river. Every follower turned to look in that direction. “Out there you will only find suffering and darkness. Those who roam in disbelief live in torment because they have chosen to disobey. We know that those who don’t obey must be punished!” He slammed his fist down on the table.

  “Those liars have been passed over, bereft of His divine providence. Let us labor therefore, lest any man fall into the sin of unbelief. For at the Coming of the Light, the Word of Ani will be made manifest. Do not be mistaken. Ani does not just see good and evil, but He knows the thoughts and intents of the heart. All men are naked and opened unto the eyes of Him.”

  I knew it! thought Kiran. The Great Father knows my every thought—my hopes, my fears, my questions, my…doubts. He drew in a breath, his mind racing. He could not let himself fall back into the sin of disbelief.

  The Guardian paced back and forth, the veins at his temples about to burst. “Always, men fail to hold to the promises of Ani because they know not when the prophecy will be fulfilled. So, they let their minds wander into doubt.” He shook his head so hard hair broke free from the tie at his neck. “Their souls will be ripped open for all to see.”

  Imagining his soul being ripped open, Kiran shook with terror. I believe, I swear I do!

  The Guardian paused to wipe his brow. He started again, his tone and cadence now a dirge-like rhythm. “As it is written, on the Day of Thunder, you will hear His voice. Everyone who wears the mark will be filled with Inspiration. Down from the clouds, He will descend, and in the days of the voice of the seventh, when He shall sound the call, the mystery of all shall be revealed.”

  Voice of the seventh? Does he mean the Seventh Elder? The mystery of all? The Great Mystery? Kiran struggled to keep up, the words and concepts coming too fast. This was all new information. He saw Kail and Deke and Jandon in front of him, nodding. He glanced around. His brothers, all the followers, were nodding with expressions of adoration as the Guardian marched on. He just needed a little more time, that was all. Then he’d understand. He was just tired.

  “We welcome those who seek the Truth.” The Guardian lowered his eyes, his attention on Kail. “For they are innocent and pure.” Then his gaze shifted to Bria and lingered, eyeing her up and down. There was something in his look that made Kiran uncomfortable, a murky, uneasy feeling.

  “But we must shut the door to sinners,” the Guardian thundered, his eyes shifting to lock with Kiran’s. “Those who dwell in doubt and let their minds be filled with envy and pride.” A rush of shame came over Kiran and his knees went weak.

  “For when the thunder comes, all those who do not obey must be cast out into darkness. The wrath of Ani will bear down upon them without mercy!”

  Kiran shook with fear. I am not one of the wicked! No! I will obey! I will obey! I will earn the mark. I will be a Receiver of Light. I will!

  “The Day of Thunder will come!” the man shouted, throwing up his arms. “And on that day, we, the Receivers of Light, will know the Truth and bask in the Glory of Light Everlasting! Praise Ani!”

  “Praise Ani!” Kiran shouted.

  Chapter 19

  The sermon went on long into the night. Kiran no longer heard the Guardian’s voice, his mind lost in a labyrinth of questions. The Guardian bombarded him with so many new concepts, concepts that seemed right, yet left him feeling uncertain, though he couldn’t grasp hold of a reason why.

  He followed the brothers of House Four back to their bunkhouse in the dark, trying to pull himself from the whirlwind of confusion. If only he could talk to Roh. Maybe he just needed some sleep. Tomorrow, he told himself as he collapsed on his mat. He’d look for Roh again tomorrow.
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  He refused to let doubt plague him again. As soon as the flame of doubt started to pulse, he tried to smother it, assuring himself that what the Guardian preached was true; the Voice would come. All he wanted was peace, respite from the burning questions. But deep in his mind, there was an ever-present flicker, a smoldering ember, like a word or a feeling, a niggling voice that whispered, urging him to continue on the quest, to get back on the river and keep going, that this was not the edge of the world as the Script described. When he looked around, he saw smiling faces, content, nodding. Everyone else believed, unquestioningly. They couldn’t all be wrong. He must have been missing something. What the Guardian said must be true.

  The next morning, he was again awakened before dawn, led off to morning meditations right away, then work in the gardens, then chanting and singing, then more work, then the daily sermon with the Guardian. The next day was the same, then the next. The long days began to flow together in a continuous cycle, drawing Kiran along by the momentum of routine. Life became a blur, like a deep, delirious sleep, where the same dream is dreamt over and over again.

  He longed for some time to think, some time alone to sort through his thoughts and feelings, but there never seemed to be any.

  He could not shake his restlessness. He envied the calm that the others seemed to have, the peacefulness imbued in their beings. He would catch himself looking at them at odd moments, wondering what they were thinking, what answers they harbored. What did they know that he didn’t? Perhaps, if he could only grasp the message, he would feel it, too.

  He was so tired; he could barely concentrate enough to get through the tasks of the day, let alone follow the late night sermons. Lately, all he felt was confusion. Every night he fell asleep too exhausted to think.

  The only thing he knew for sure was that here, in the Kingdom, he felt secure and loved, content with his new family, his brothers of House Four, who admired and respected him. He had never before felt such a sense of belonging. Maybe life was different here compared to life in the village, but he would adjust.

  He still didn’t know what to make of Cartus, though. Kiran couldn’t seem to please him or gain his trust. With Aldwyn, he had always felt comfortable asking anything. But here, with Cartus, he had to keep up his guard. There was just something in his manner, something in his smile.

  No, it’s me. There is something wrong with me; I must try harder, he told himself. He plodded along, through the routine that became his life. He had to keep going until the Day of Thunder.

  Then one night, after a week, or maybe longer, Kiran couldn’t be sure, he lay awake in the moonlight, watching a spider creep along the rafter above his mat. He was tired, but his mind just wouldn’t stop. At the sermon that evening, the Guardian had warned of desires of the flesh. Kiran’s eyes had gone right to Bria. He couldn’t help it. He ached to be near her, to hold her in his arms, to smell her hair again, to kiss her one more time. Just thinking about her made his body react and he squirmed in his bed, his senses brought fully awake. He was to deny those… feelings, the Guardian had said. To succumb, to give in to temptation, was a sin, and sinners were cast into eternal darkness. Alone. Lost. Tormented souls.

  Kiran tried not to think about it, though his heartbeat sent pulses throbbing throughout his body and he ached for release. Being in the bunkhouse with his brothers was suffocating. He had to get out of here, had to be alone. He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. No one stirred. He got up and quietly slipped out.

  On the moonlit porch, he took a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air, and started to feel better already. The forest was alive with sound. The perpetual daytime hum of insects and other creatures of the jungle had transformed into a roar that filled the night. This is the dwelling place, he thought. So why do I feel so restless? How had the Script described it? Wasn’t there a peak? Maybe he had been right, and the river had changed the terrain over time. That could be it. No. Something wasn’t right.

  He could read the Script again. Then he would feel better. Tonight, the moon was near full. He should be able to see clearly enough at the river’s edge. He pressed his ear against the door and heard the soft snoring of one of his brothers. Yes, now was the time.

  Under the dark canopy, he shuffled down the path toward the river. He sat down with the scroll in a patch of moonlight and read the last lines again:

  When you reach the peak and stand on the edge of darkness,

  Before you will be a great pool of glorious reflection.

  There a wise man will appear,

  Wrinkled with time and crippled with wisdom.

  Listen to him, for his is the Voice of the Father.

  Kiran read the verse three times. So the wise man was the Voice of the Father. But the Guardian spoke of the Voice yet to come. That wasn’t right. Or was it? Now he was confused. Maybe when the Voice comes, He will speak through the Guardian. Maybe they are one and the same, just not at all times. Could that be it?

  What would Deke say, he wondered. He must have worked it out somehow. But how? Perhaps he forgot the wording of the Script. No, it was Deke. He could recite the Script word for word.

  Kiran ran his fingers through his hair. If only he could talk to Roh. No one could tell Roh what to think. He had his own mind. And Kiran could talk to him about these things.

  Stop questioning! he caught himself. What is wrong with me? I must obey or be punished. It doesn’t matter whether I understand or not. He shook his head like a sheep trying to shoo away troublesome flies. The Guardian is the wise man. And the wise man knows the true nature of the Voice.

  “Good evening, Brother,” came a voice in the dark.

  His head jerked up with a start. It was Cartus.

  He shoved the scroll back into its hiding place and rose to his feet. “You startled me,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. Had Cartus seen him move the stone in the dark? His pulse started thumping in his temples.

  “What troubles you, brother, that you are not at slumber?”

  “Uh, nothing. I just…” He looked down at his hands. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “The Guardian does not abide insolence. You are not to abandon your brothers to wander alone. Being alone can lead to sinful behavior.”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” Kiran shook his head. Did Cartus know he had those… feelings? Suddenly the muggy tropical air felt stifling. “My stomach has been bothering me,” he lied, licking his lip.

  Cartus stepped into the moonlight. “A stomachache is not a good sign. Sin manifests in the body, my brother. Perhaps you are not as dedicated to Ani as we had thought.”

  “No, no. I am. I just—”

  Cartus took a step closer. “Do not let your mind slip, brother, or your thoughts roam too far. The wrath of Ani is fearsome and what you invite of your own sin will be brought down on all your brothers.”

  Kiran bit his lip. “My brothers?” If he sinned, all his brothers would be punished? “I didn’t know.”

  “My brother, I know your heart is true. But you must be more diligent in your obedience. Go back to your bunk now. Rest your head.”

  “Yes, yes. I am tired.” He started to go but stopped and turned back. “Cartus, I have not seen my brother Roh. Do you know what House he is in?”

  “Oh yes. The Guardian has assigned him a very special task. You will see. As I told you before, each by his ability.” Then the smile.

  So Roh had been chosen for something special, like the others. Why hadn’t he? He had been trying so hard to make his heart pure. And he was being passed over. He had to show the wise man how dedicated he was. He had to find a way.

  The next morning, as the brothers of House Four left the morning meditations, a woman appeared adorned in the same gauzy white robe Angei-Ami had worn. Cartus pulled Kiran aside as his brothers continued on their way. “This is Angei-Laina.”

  Kiran forced a smile, his eyes darting back and forth between them. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Of course not,” she
said. “Won’t you come with me and I’ll explain everything.” She took him by the hand.

  Fear stirred in the pit of his stomach. What was her name? Hadn’t Cartus just told him? He was having trouble with his memory lately. Was it Angei? Not Angei-Ami. “Your name, Angei, is it—”

  “Forgive him,” Cartus interrupted, glaring at Kiran. “He has just arrived and is impulsive, full of questions.” He lowered his eyes in respect.

  Kiran copied him, lowering his eyes, wracked with guilt.

  The kind woman softly lifted his chin. “My son, the Angei are the wives of Ani. It is a great honor to be wed to Ani through service to the Guardian.”

  Kiran nodded, grateful for the kind response, although he didn’t understand. The Great Father had wives? More than one?

  The woman dismissed Cartus with a nod. He turned away, wearing his permanent smile.

  Angei-Laina led Kiran across the bridge to the sparkling pools. “Go ahead and get in,” she said, gesturing toward the pool in which he had bathed when he first arrived. “Enjoy.”

  Kiran was taken aback. This was definitely not the normal routine. He had learned this much.

  “The pools here do more than soothe aching muscles. In these waters, many find peace. It is by the love of Ani that we have been given this gift. We invite you to accept His love and the love of the Angei. There is no need to feel scared or uncomfortable. Now go ahead,” she urged with a smile, turning away.

  Kiran nodded. His eyes moved from her to the pool. Still unsure, he stripped to his underclothes and waded in.

  To his surprise, Angei-Laina turned back and sat down on the edge of the pool. “I just want you to relax and for us to talk, all right?”

  “I suppose.” What harm was there in talking?