Minis was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming. It was his old
nightmare of being caught in his father’s body, in his father’s
sensibilities. I am not that. I do not make sexual toys of my enemies. I do not relish
the taste of blood. Screaming makes me want to rush to the one in pain and help
them.
*You are too Haian, boy.*
*No. I refuse to be you. I refuse to enjoy myself the
way you did. Besides, you’re dead and
honourably buried. How are you here talking to me?*
*Being presented in the Temple put part of me in here.
I am become as a God. But it’s boring. Muunas and Aras and Mikas… even the two
dirt Gods have more control than I do.*
*Good. You were a bad Imperator and a bad man.*
*I did what I wanted. When I wanted. I was feared, my
little skin tag. Stop trying to fix this
broken God Mechanism and let Ergas absorb you. There are no more emotions to
drive you, once that happens. I am here.
I dream. Dream with me. Dream with all of us.*
*Eww. Even dead and dispassionate you are vile. But what
do you mean, all of you?*
I am falling into Muunas’s Eyes and there is a hall of
Crystal Thrones, each with a different man… a different person… on it. I am
sitting on my own Crystal Throne.There is even an image of Shefenkas waving.
The blond woman… his sister… beside him, on her own throne, is a faded outline,
a pale ghost. A place holder, with only the faintest connection with the Temple.
In fact the various Imperators and… yes… Imperatrixes…
are varying degrees of transparent. Some are faint, some are as solid as if
they were bodily present. Kallijas is
next to me. He never did the Ten Tens as my regent, but he is more real than
some of the Imperators. He leans over and gives me what I called ‘his
encouraging look’.
Then someone else leans out of the crowd. I know him. His
eyes are full of sadness. *Descendant. You call on my memory all the time, lad.
These are copies of the humans who have done the Ten Tens. Or any sketchy
ritual, wearing the seals. The Ten Tens
ensures we are ‘taken up’ by the Temple.* It is Illesias the Great, leaning
forward, gazing at me intently.
*If you continue this ordeal, you will be taken up
completely, lad. You will die and your
Heir will be Imperator, with your Imperatrix as regent.*
*But the Temple is broken, Ancestor.* I bow
respectfully. *There is a solution
without me sacrificing myself, isn’t there?* I suddenly realize why Imperators
cultivate the ‘paunch’. It gives them more energy here. More time inside the Temple’s mind. I am
hopeful that one of these men has an answer for me.
*One person alone does not have the strength to sort
through this mess, my distant son.* He waves at Chevenga, who smiles. *He was
one of those who taught you that. Look there for your answer for you. In fact
you have most of it in place already. Argos is fighting to fix itself with your
assistance. Risae sent Mella to find your solution in the foundations of our
civilization. She Herself is being amended, even as we speak. Brutal Goddess
that She is, She is finding out that fixing Herself doesn’t involve more cutting,
rather more healing.*
*Then I will endure. It is reassuring to know that You are all
here. Even him.* I point at
my father, a pale and transparent blob, sitting on the throne, playing with his fingers, waving them before
his face like a little baby.
*You have enough strength for one more day before you
dissolve completely and come here, Minis Kurkas Joras Amitzas Aan. Figure it
out before then.*
This chapter gave me shivers
ReplyDeleteOh good! I've been hoping for things like that. They don't have to be dead to have been copied... but it helps.
ReplyDelete