by Dan O'Brien
Book of Seth:
Homecoming
Dan O’Brien
© 2015 Dan O’Brien
“The Umordoc possessed neither the intelligence nor the ability to cause the fear that had imprisoned man for eternities; yet, even the elders were unable to see that perhaps a greater force existed, another entity above everything else.”
-Unknown
The cities of old greeted my waking senses and for a moment I relished in the warmth that held me. I knew that it could not be real. I understood my surroundings, the cold, barren plains that governed my existence. The cities were not torn or destroyed, but instead bustling with activity. All manner of people moved about, their clothing deep shades of brilliant colors and their faces drawn in apprehension. A need for haste emanated off of them. The buildings were magnificent; the embers of the artificial light in the darkness were breathtaking. The miles upon miles of machine jungle that held this world in balance inspired awe in me.
I stumbled like a drunk lost in a fantasy. Each thing that grasped my attention was pure wonderment. The images were so foreign, yet so familiar; it was as if I had always known them. I bumped into one of them; I had thought they were imaginary, but the man’s shoulder was real enough. He fixed me with a scowl and his mouth opened.
I expected words.
All I heard was a piercing screech, the sound of machinery––the foul, violent screams of the future. The noise only grew louder and soon all of the beings opened their mouths and the sound grew exponentially. The noise absorbed me, consumed me. I was no longer able to concentrate; it took over all my senses. I closed my eyes and darkness consumed me.
I felt as if I had passed on, that I had become a non-person.
When I opened my eyes again, the world had changed.
The futuristic buildings and machinery had transformed into amber fields and lush forests. I could feel the lush carpet of grass beneath my bare feet. My clothing was simple and white, the long sleeves comforting in the breeze that blew across me. I walked along, unaware of my surrounding. A warm breeze was a welcome change. The tundra seemed so far from me now, as if it had never existed at all. I sat in the grass and laid back. I sprawled my arms above me head and relaxed in a way that I never thought possible.
“Seth, son of Evan Armen, you come to us again,” boomed the voice.
I recognized it. Had I passed out again? Had I frozen to death and passed on?
“No, you have not passed on.” It was the child’s voice.
“If I am not dead, then why create this illusion?”
“Do you remember us?” queried the darkest voice, the pitch and tone coming from all about me.
They had spoken to me before, of the Believer.
I was tired and everything seemed like a haze upon the horizon.
“Culouth, you are called Culouth,” I spoke slowly, unsure if I had pronounced it correctly.
The voice hesitated and the peaceful glow of the forests and hills changed to darkness. I could feel the presence of the dark voice. “Your memory serves you well, son of Armen. I am Culouth. I deal in the end of things, the uselessness of this life. Man has seen its time upon Terra. Your kind will soon be no more.”
I was stunned.
“The time of the Believer is at hand. Are you prepared for such a journey?” The childish voice seemed too young to say such things.
“If there is only one path, then I will not fight the fates,” I replied, uncertain whether or not this was a lucid dream.
“Ah, that is why the end has come to pass. So many of your kind saw only one path, one journey, and stopped looking for anything else. Now, there is no place left to go.” The older voice spoke in riddles.
“Riddles will no doubt help.” I scoffed at the uselessness of words.
I watched the world fade from the brilliant fields of gold to the desolate, barren tundra that had for so long been my home. I turned back and I saw fire, the darkness returning to me. The ground beneath me was white. The old replaced the new; I could see it passing below me in streaks, as if I were moving. Disorientation gripped me and coherency returned as I lifted my head.
The surrounding white tundra greeted me with a smile.
My side ached; my muscles were fatigued and worn.
I could not place my position on the Maiden, though I recognized the familiar ridges that I knew lined the plains east of the Fallen.
Fredrick bent into view and it startled me. “Are you coherent?”
The question seemed absurd. “Of course, why would you assume otherwise?”
Fredrick sighed and sat beside me. He ignored the freezing floor of the tundra for a moment and just took a seat as if we were just leisurely having a conversation within the comfortable confines of the Fallen. “You’d been mumbling for a long time now. I couldn’t understand what you were saying, but you kept talking about the Believer.”
“The Believer?” The dream world and reality had begun to blend. The past few days had seemed like one massive, torturous dream that refused to end. “Where are we?”
“I don’t know. I started heading west from the Temple of Exiles. I don’t know the plains like you do,” replied Fredrick with a shrug.
I turned to him, the fight with the Umordoc returning to me. “Let me see….” I stood, looking at the ridges that surrounded us. A cruel scar tracing the landscape was instantly recognizable to me. “We are close. We need to hurry. The entrance is not far from here.”
I could feel the wound at my side, the tingling, oppressive pain that threatened to overwhelm me once again. I knew that another episode would claim me. Looking off into the blowing snow that had sprung up, I wondered if Ryan and the others had already caught wind of what was to come or if they were waiting in the wings of what might be our destruction.
I PULLED AT THE LATCH to the winding halls of the Fallen. A blanket of fresh frost fell into the dark tunnels as we found our footing and pulled it closed above our heads. Heat radiated off my body. Fredrick was no more than a step behind me, the muttering returning as we neared the artificial light of the village. The tunnels ended abruptly into the vast open chamber at the entrance to the Fallen.
I stood for a moment, a pleasant feeling of comfort enveloping me.
I looked around. At first, I was oblivious to the signs of the battle, but I soon saw the marks of war. The scorched earth and mechanical shards that I would later come to realize had been the remnants of the demi that had threatened the village.
Higald approached me. His massive frame seemed to hunch as he came forward. Bowed head and stoic features laced with emotion welcomed me.
Fredrick cowered behind me.
“What happened here?” I queried, forgetting for a moment that I had been sent to my death.
“We were attacked by a demi and scores of hybrids. We had lost many and yet you return from certain doom, unscathed and safe,” he replied, his eyes darting immediately to Fredrick.
“I would not call it unscathed and safe. You sentenced me to that place along with Fredrick,” I returned venomously.
“Why has he returned?” he queried, dodging my anger.
“Because he has done nothing wrong,” I countered. I no longer feared or respected the rules of the Fallen.
“We sentenced him, but you were meant to carry out our will,” began Higald.
“I have decided to ignore your will. I asked what happened here. Where is my brother?”
“At his domicile with Summer,” added Higald, his voice wavering.
“You defeated the demi and these hybrids in short order. How?”
“Summer fought them and dispatche
d them easily enough. Her powers are incredible,” he replied. There was a subtle hesitation in his speech.
“What are you not telling me, Higald?”
“The warlocks believe her to be a non-person, a demi as well. We asked her to leave the village,” he replied with a sad nod of his head.
“How typical of you. You cower behind the laws, condemning the heroes of our kind,” I returned bitterly.
“It was not meant to be like that,” he offered weakly.
I shook my head, the sternness in my eyes evident. “It seems to happen too often to be just simple chance.”
“Seth, not like this.”
“We will speak later, you and me. We will address the future of our kind.”
I turned and walked toward the darkened corner of the domiciles––toward the only family I had left in this world.
I NEARED RYAN’S DOMICILE and I could hear him and Summer talking. The words were hushed, but I knew what he was planning. My brother had allowed emotion in; thus, his choices were no longer his own. Instead, they had become predetermined because he had narrowed his options. As I crept closer, I could feel their apprehension; it was nearly tangible. I pushed aside the fabric and entered without warning.
It took both of them by surprise.
“Who goes there?” called my brother gutturally. He did not recognize me immediately. But as he did, he moved forward and embraced me tightly. “Seth, by the Believer, I thought you were gone. They said no one returns from the Temple of Exiles.”
“I know,” I replied somberly. Then, upon seeing the shock of white hair upon Summer’s small frame, I stared for a moment. I was mesmerized by the brilliance and luminance it possessed. “What happened?”
“The demi was among us all along, in the infirmary; it was the wounded traveler. Hybrids made their way through the opening in the tunnels and tore through the ranks of the disciplinary soldiers. Rien fell,” explained Ryan.
Rien’s name was a shock to me. “How?”
“We split up through the tunnels and one attacked us and Summer….”
“What happened?” I pressed.
“I changed, a power consumed me,” finished Summer, sensing that Ryan could still not explain it.
I looked at her as she stepped away, her back turned to us.
“You changed how?” I pressed.
“I can’t truly explain it. I felt something awaken inside me. A consciousness that I had not been aware of until I saw the beast, felt its hatred and contempt for me,” replied Summer.
“What happened when you felt these powers overtake you?”
“I used it. I let it consume me. The magnitude of its power was incredible. It destroyed the beasts and nearly claimed me as well.” Summer’s confusion and uncertainty was reflected in her words.
“And the Council felt that your power is too dangerous?”
“They think she is a demi as well. They think she brought the hybrids. Summer and the demi shared words, but it was cryptic.”
“Then we have to find somewhere else to go,” I replied, drawing puzzled glances from both Summer and Ryan. Fredrick even craned his neck in bewilderment. I stood in the doorway, my back to them. “What words were exchanged?”
Summer looked down, her white hair falling into her face. “He said that I was not what I seemed––that I was a creature. He said that he was here to collect me, to retrieve me for some reason.”
“What do you believe?” My question startled my brother. He had always assumed that logic dictated my suspicious nature, my wariness of the unknown. I knew that there was something about Summer, something different; that much was evident now.
“I don’t know what I believe. That thing said that I was like it, that I was not human. Seth, what do we do now?”
“We don’t really have a lot of options,” I began.
“What about the Temple?” suggested Ryan, unaware of what I had seen.
“No way,” interrupted Fredrick, his face appearing in the doorway again.
“Why not?” retorted Ryan angrily.
“There are Umordoc there. I killed several of them, but there is no telling how many more there might be wandering the place,” I rationalized
“Well, that’s just great. We don’t really have anywhere else to go,” replied Ryan, struggling with the reality of our situation.
I felt as if I needed to say something, but there were no words. No explanation; no comfort I could offer.
I STALKED FORWARD ANGRILY. My feet kicked at the earth as I did so; the powdery, stale dirt I had come to know as my home seemed artificial. So many things clouded my mind. I could feel emotion grip me just as quickly as the logic on which I had come to depend. The world of the Fallen seemed so bottled up now, so trapped. The lines and lines of adobe domes stacked upon one another extending toward the crude half-shell that was our sky felt like a lie. I had walked the pale grounds of our prison for what seemed like generations, having seen so many come and go. Some falling to the cruel conditions of the tundra; some to the bitter reality of the way we lived. There was deceit, anger, all the human emotions that had framed our society of old. Here they were safeguarded, harbored only by those that could afford such a luxury: the Council.
The Common House served as many things: an amphitheater for meetings, sometimes for games, and sometimes for angry discussions that decided the fate of the Fallen. I knew that Higald, the Sisters, and the warlocks would be immersed in conversation within the confines of the drab building. Their opinions were already set in stone.
I threw aside the fabric draped over the door. The starchy texture was like that which covered all doors in the Fallen. Our riches were not in materials or possessions, but wells upon wells of determination and an inability to lose hope. I could see them, huddled amongst themselves, their words hushed and their eyes wide with surprised as I entered unannounced. Higald was the first to stand, his arm extending in a welcoming gesture immediately.
He began as if I had not spoken to him yet––as if I did not know what they planned to do. “Seth, what can we do for you?”
I shirked his kindness. My mind was torn between the betrayal of them sending me to the Temple and the banishment of Summer. I laughed; it was a strict contradiction of how I truly felt. “Where to begin, eh?”
Higald looked back at the other members of the Council.
“No need to feign ignorance, Higald. I have known you for too long, you and your Council. Do you know why I am here?” I challenged, watching their reactions closely.
“No, how could we possibly…” began Higald.
Thetres silenced him with a simple wave of his hand. “You are here because of your brother and what he has told you. You are here to debate the fate of Summer.”
I smirked again, my mirth becoming a habit as I watched them come undone in my presence.
“Among other things,” I responded dryly. I paced forward and climbed upon their platform. “What can your collected wisdom tell me of the Temple of Exiles?”
My question caught them off guard.
Thyren was the first to verbalize his confusion. “I thought that you came to plead for Summer’s life––to hear from our lips the sentence we have passed.” He turned to me and followed me with his deceitful eyes as I rounded behind their position.
“That is because despite all of your so-called wisdom and power, you can see nothing of me or Summer––of anyone else for that matter. You have sat here on this platform since before I could remember. You have spewed only venom, a disease of language. You lead by fear, fear of what you supposedly have power over. Our entire society led at its core by fools and parlor tricks.” My words were angry, but truth. The calmness that I harbored within my soul had dissipated. Only the cold, hard fact of the situation ate through.
“Are you finished?” snapped Tresnre, his features drawn together in anger.
“Hardly, I could continue for longer than you would care to listen, but I have not come here to lecture you as
you have so often lectured the Fallen.” I paused for a moment before continuing. I savored the pained looks on their faces as I moved around them like a predator. “I ask you again: what do you know of the Temple of Exiles?”
Mirandia spoke this time. “The Temple of Exiles has stood before our ancestor’s ancestors. Its walls have housed the outcasts and criminals of our kind. I cannot say what it truly is, Master Huntsman.”
I nodded before I spoke again. “And what is in the Temple of Exiles?”
“This is ridiculous. Why ask such questions?” spat Tresnre, standing quickly. He wrapped elegant robes around himself and his eyes roamed from one member of the council to the other for support.
My open palm collided with his face, the force of the blow knocking back into his seat.
His hand immediately went to where I struck him, his eyes wide in fear. “There are no people here for you to convince. Your outburst will not be tolerated.” I glared at him and his eyes fell away, but the confused look upon Higald’s face was one that I prized. “Do you wish to say something, Higald?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why not? You have ruled with misdirection and confusion since my father’s time. It seems only fitting that your weakness should be exposed in the final days of the Fallen,” I returned hatefully.
“There is no need for you to feel such contempt toward us,” responded Higald.
He stood, attempting as best he could to display the size difference between the two of us.
I was upon him like a jackal, my planedge drawn. I pressed the point against his exposed throat. I sneered at him, my teeth grinding. The muscles of my jaw flexed angrily as I held back my urge to scream in his face. “You sent me to die, you coward. That is the true nature of the Temple of Exiles: a death sentence. You sent me there knowing that.” My words were feral and low. I held my blade there for another moment. My fist gripped a handful of his white hair and I pulled back on it. I exposed his neck once more before I let go and pushed him back against his throne.
