Storm God, chapter ten
The Beginning of All Things
“The descriptions of Tenebris found in the Elder Zorath suggest the existence of a civilization already ancient by the time of the Dragon War. An interesting notion, but obviously a fabrication. Given that we know the first civilizations began on E’a with the coming of the Elder Herazor, any descriptions or references to older civilizations cannot be interpreted literally. More likely it is a metaphor representing decay, or the unknown, or something of that nature.”
-Archhistorian Aberoth, The Mysteries of the Zorath, 317 K.E.
The castle was cavernous and empty, with masonry as cracked and crumbling as that of the surrounding city.
“Stay on your guard,” Vorn whispered to his companions as Zermayix led them through the open gate and down a long vaulted passageway. They passed lines of statues resembling Zermayix, only younger, standing straight and clad in mail. Vorn couldn't read the angular script etched on the plaques at their bases.
“What happened here?” Zera asked. “Are you the only one left?”
Zermayix glanced over his shoulder, then at the statues. “No, not the only one, but there are very few of us left now. You’ll meet my daughter soon enough.”
“She lives with you in the castle?”
Zermayix nodded. “Yes, we’re the only two who remain in the city, although there are a few others scattered throughout the wilderness, living as hermits.”
“How did everything fall into ruin?” Vorn asked.
“How indeed? How does any kingdom fall? Decadence? Fratricide? Complacency? The abandonment of what makes a society great in favour of what brings the individual gratification in the moment? Our people succumbed to all of those things, but that began long before even I was born. I long for a glory I know of only from old stories, but it is the way of things. The ebb and flow of history wears us all away in the end. Even the Herazor, mighty as you are, will eventually be brought low by the turning of the ages.”
Vorn tensed, tightening the grip on his axe. Zermayix chuckled grimly. “Don’t be alarmed. I make no threats. I have no power to oppose the might of the Herazor. I simply speak the truth of things.”
They passed from the passage into a cavernous hall with a long wooden table running down its centre. Hung from the back wall, behind the table’s head, was a long moth eaten tapestry of faded red cloth adorned with a many headed dragon and a single monstrous eye embroidered in black and purple thread: the sign of Tarneb.
Vorn hesitated. “You give reverence to Tarneb?”
“Of course,” Zermayix answered lightly. “Much as the Herazor are the gods of Heraz, Tarneb is the god of Tenebris. But much as the Herazor have long since concerned themselves only with the affairs of the Middle World, so too has Tarneb. Many of the Tenebrisi believe that it was Tarneb’s neglect of Tenebris which led to the decline of our world.”
“Tarneb wasn’t one of the primordial gods of E’a?”
Zermayix gave Vorn a strange look. “How much do the Herazor know of the Beginning of All Things?”
“Our records tend to start with the arrival of our Elders on E’a,” Zera said. “Although we’ve recently come to learn that they may not be as accurate as we once thought. We have only scattered tales and fragments of the time before that.”
“I see. It is likely that your Elders know more, but history is a thing that is shaped by those who tell it to serve as a tool… or a weapon. Please sit,” Zermayix said, gesturing at the table. “My daughter should be along shortly. If you wish, I can tell you the story of the most ancient of days while we wait, at least so far as my people understand it. But who knows.” He shrugged. “It is the history as was told to my ancestors by Tarneb himself. Like as not, it was told in a way that served his ends.”
“That would be fascinating,” Zera said, nodding.
Vorn was sure the Elders would know more, but to his frustration, the Spirit of Thoh within him was still and silent.
They sat with Zermayix at the head of the table. Zera was at his left hand, while Vorn and Thalsi were at his right. The Lowlanders arranged themselves along the rest of the table. Ratmen, similar to those from the city, skittered out from side doors, bearing trays leaden with pitchers of dark, sweet wine and pitted brass goblets.
“Is Tarneb a god of E’a?” Zermayix said slowly while the servants served drinks to the company. “Well, it depends on what you mean by that. Tarneb was one of three of the first generation of gods who arose directly from Ilo’s mind at the beginning into an expanse of infinite void. With him came Nira, his twin, and–”
“And Heraz, our grandsire,” Zera said. “He was the eldest among them and the closest to Ilo in mind and power.”
“That’s right.” Zermayix nodded. “From the union of Tarneb and Nira came four offspring, the elementals. Together, they laboured for many an untold age to create the Middle World, and all the while, Heraz sat and watched.”
“He didn’t just watch, he directed as well. Heraz alone knew how the Middle World would come to be. It was by the power of his word that all things were given name and form.”
“That is not what I’ve heard, but it could well be true. At any rate, when their labour was finally complete, Ilo herself breathed life into the earth of the Middle World and into the sky which enclosed it, giving rise to two great spirits: E’a and Sko, from whose union came all that lives and grows and dies upon the face of the Middle World. With her own light, Ilo wrought the sun, and set it to move around the Middle World in a great loop. The others followed suit, building homes for themselves in the heavens: the great spheres that have come to be known as the Inner Worlds. From which they were to watch over the Middle World from afar, to safeguard, but not to intervene. But for Heraz, that was not enough. He sought to be master of the Middle World and to be served and worshipped by its inhabitants.”
Zera furrowed her brow.
“From the beastial offspring of E’a and Sko,” Zermayix continued. “Heraz created the first race of mortals. Beings unforeseen by the other gods. Beings with one foot in the world of beasts and the other in the world of the divine. High enough to understand his majesty, but still too low to pose any threat to his dominion. But to be master of the Middle World was not his place. To create beings with the minds of gods but the frail bodies of beasts was not his place. Heraz sought to disrupt the Great Order, and so the other gods went to war against him, casting him out, and exiling him into the farthest reaches of the Emptiness, to a distant world which is now his namesake.”
“That is not the story we’ve heard,” Zera said after a moment.
“I expect not.”
“The Middle World was ordained to be Heraz’s domain by Ilo herself, with Tarneb and Nira serving as his vassals, and while it’s true he created humanity from the beasts of E’a, he also did that in accordance with Ilo’s will. He shaped them in his own likeness and granted them power of spirit and mind so that they might take their place in the Great Order and partake in the glory of all that the gods had wrought. It was Tarneb and Nira, when they rebelled against him and forced the humans to live like beasts, that were going against the Great Order.”
“That’s right,” Vorn said. “That’s why the Elders swore their oath to protect the mortals of the Middle World after the slaying of Nira. But either way, if Tarneb and Nira were so against the making of humans, where did your people come from?”
“Their disdain for Heraz’s actions did not stop them from following his example. As you well know, they set themselves up as the joint rulers of the Middle World. They called themselves stewards, but it all amounts to the same in the end. They also tried their hand at creating their own sentient races, both here and on E’a. As Heraz made the ancestors of your followers in his image, so too were my ancestors made by Tarneb in his.”
“So even by their own measure, they went against the Great Order?”
“What is the Great Order? I doubt any two people, mortal or god, would give you the same answer. They say it is the law given to the first gods by Ilo, the codification of her will. But if all that is and was and yet will be is by the will of Ilo alone, as the scholars say, then why does the Great Order need to be codified at all? The Great Order is elusive and transitory, ever shifting from form to form to suit the needs of whoever invokes it.”
At that moment, the runner returned from the Skithiar, with Ariana and her attendants in tow.
Zermayix smiled. “Very good. Go and see what’s taking Antariasta,” he said to one of the servants “Then you can begin serving the feast.”
The servant hastened to obey, disappearing into a doorway at the back of the hall. Ariana took a seat beside Zera.
Vorn gave her a questioning look.
“You can’t expect me to wait around on the ship all the time can you? From what the runner told me we might be here for a while and I wanted to stretch my legs.”
Over the next few minutes the rat-like servants emerged from the side doors, bearing platters of steaming food: roasted meat, oddly shaped exotic vegetables, and more pitchers of wine.
Then the doors at the far end of the hall opened and a woman of a kind with Zermayix only young and lithe, wearing a silken dress, entered.
“My daughter, Antariasta,” Zermayix said.
Vorn gazed at her as she flowed down the length of the table, with smooth, elegant movements. His sisters looked between them, frowning. Thalsi grunted.
“Forgive me for taking so long,” she said. Her delicate voice caressed Vorn’s ears.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Vorn said at once. “To wait on you is an honour.”
Zera made a gagging sound. Zermayix smiled.
Antariasta sat and the feast began. The food was delicious and the wine flowed freely. Soon the Lowlanders were laughing and talking merrily amongst themselves, but Vorn hardly heard what was said. As the feast progressed, it seemed as if Antariasta’s beauty grew. Eventually he could hardly even taste the food for she was the sole focus of his attention. Her every movement was steeped in poise and grace. Every so often, she would look up from her meal and they’d make eye contact. She might smile or wink and Vorn’s heart would tremble in his chest.
“Isn’t that right, Vorn?” Zera asked.
Vorn blinked. His sisters were looking at him expectantly. Thalsi was scowling.
“What was that?” He asked, a little irritated to have his attention pulled away from Antariasta.
Thalsi rolled her eyes. Vorn noted that the three of them had hardly touched their food, and he, without realising it, had almost finished his.
Zera cleared her throat and then spoke to him as if to a child. “I was just telling Zermayix that we can’t stay here for long.”
“Okay? Why not?”
Zera inhaled sharply. “We need to get a piece of vantarite and return to E’a as quickly as possible, don’t we?”
“Oh… yes of course.” Obviously. How could Vorn have forgotten? Vantarite. The Dragonstone. Why else would they be here? Somehow that didn’t seem as important as it had before though. From the corner of his eye he could see Antariasta.
Zermayix nodded sagely, touching the vantarite amulet around his neck. “Your quest does sound of the utmost importance. Vantarite is a metal found in the depths of Tenebris, very rare here on the surface. As I said, I should be able to find you some, but It may take some time.”
“How long?” Zera asked.
“It’s hard to say for certain. I’ll make some enquiries for you though. I assure you I’ll work as quickly as possible. In the meantime, please eat and drink, and when the feast is done I’ll have quarters prepared so you may wait in comfort as my honoured guests.” He smiled warmly.
“Thank you for your help, Zermayix,” Vorn said. Then he turned to his sisters. “You see? No problem.”
Zera said something but Vorn was already, once again, totally transfixed by Antariasta’s beauty.
If you have any feedback regarding the story, either positive or negative, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’m always looking to improve.
Thank you for your time and attention, I truly do appreciate it.
I love the genealogy and history of their world. Vorn is very lucky to have three sisters!