Rise of Primus Read online

  Chapter 2

  The Destiners were eagle-like beings whose expansive wings enabled them to soar high into the sky at dizzying speeds. While many lived in dwellings ensconced in the rugged ocean cliffs of the Western Territories, others lived farther inland, where mountains sloped into valleys, and rivers ran swift through ravines. Every Destiner felt more at home when flying the heights of the Silver Sea.

  The Aeton tribe, who’s calling it was to listen for the voice of the Life Weaver in the wind, received prophetic insight, contemplated the wisdom of the Image Maker, and explored the implications of his sacred words. Scribes among them recorded these words on parchment scrolls, using pens fashioned from the quills of those who had been granted privilege beyond the Canopy. The precious parcels, hoisted onto the backs of winged envoys and delivered to the farthest reaches of the Silver Sea, enabled its inhabitants to enjoy the blessings contained therein.

  Destiners lived for eons and were therefore careful when choosing life-mates, for to flourish in the soil of reciprocal life was one of the great goods they sought. Whenever a union was established, the matrimonial rite of mutual indwelling took place during the season of Yahlu—a time when the moon, so round and full, in dreamy silken blue, cast its cerulean light across the sleepy waters.

  With Raeh having flown beyond the Canopy, Abriel became concerned when he did not report for watch. He inquired at the temple as to his whereabouts.

  “Haven’t you heard?” asked Domitius, Chief Guardsman. “Your brother was found washed up on the beach this morning, unconscious. He was revived and returned to his home, where I assume he is recovering.”

  Abriel made no mention of Raeh’s escapade, but stating that he had seen him earlier, only said, “I wonder what must have befallen him.”

  “Perhaps he was beset by vertigo and fell into the sea,” suggested Domitius.

  Abriel shook his head in worry. “Perhaps...”

  Abriel entered Raeh’s home through its breezeway, where open arches revealed the sea on one side and mountains on the other. Raeh had been resting, but when he saw Abriel, he practically flew to greet him.

  “Brother!” he exclaimed. And in typical Raeh fashion, he wrapped his arms around Abriel’s waist and took him to the floor. Although Abriel showed no resistance, Raeh declared himself the winner. “Again, Raeh is triumphant!”

  “All right, all right, you win,” said Abriel. “Now, get off me. You stink! And if you ever scare me like that again I will not go easy on you!”

  When both had stood up again, Raeh’s tone became serious. “Abriel, I’m truly glad you’re here. I want to tell you what happened, and I need you to believe me.”

  “I am here to listen,” said Abriel, his brawny arms folded across his chest. “You have some explaining to do.”

  Raeh looked out through the open archway, his eyes searching the seascape, where wispy clouds cast moving shadows upon its blustery surface.

  “When I broke through the Canopy, during our swordfight, it was my intention to circle back and continue our contest.”

  His expression sober, he faced his trusted confidant.

  “But a force, Abriel, one greater than anything I have ever encountered, laid hold of me. I resisted with all my might—out of sheer fright—but it drew me to a place beyond the borders of the Canopy, and far beyond the margins of my imagination.”

  He then lowered his voice, as one does when speaking of reverent things.

  “What I beheld, in that transcendent place was richer by far than all of this we see here. And I must tell you, I entered the Sacred Caverns. And I saw the Seven Elders convened at council.”

  Abriel had never seen Raeh’s eyes brim with tears until now.

  “And I saw Him, Abriel. I saw the Image Maker. His appearance was like that of light, but unlike any I have ever seen! It enveloped him, accentuating his form, yet concealing it too. It seemed that I had always known him, and that he had always known me. . . always.”

  Raeh’s heart spilled over with emotion, catching the words halfway in his throat.

  “I felt his presence too, His unspeakable…palpable presence.”

  Abriel believed every impassioned word of Raeh’s story, for he had never witnessed his stalwart brother so deeply moved.

  “Raeh, what you have experienced is astonishing and sacred. How you have returned to tell of it, I do not know, for it is written in the archival scrolls that to breach the Canopy’s limits is never to return.”

  “I think I know why,” offered Raeh. “I believe I am destined for His right hand, to attend the inner sanctum of his royalty! Who knows? Someday I may taste of all that is uniquely His.”

  Abriel stayed with Raeh, listening through the night as he recounted in detail the events of that day. But he could not shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as Raeh’s flushed countenance betrayed his growing resolve.

  Having at last fallen asleep on the floor, Abriel awoke with a jolt, as Natriel, Head Elder, stood over him, his calloused heel gouging him in the ribs. “Wake up!” he barked.

  Alarmed, Abriel scurried to his feet. Stumbling sideways, he blurted, “What are you doing?” Recognizing Natriel, he attempted a reverent bow and quickly said, “Lord Natriel...how may I be of service?”

  “I come in search of Raeh. Where is he?”

  Abriel cast a cursory glance around the room, nodded in acknowledgement of Natriel’s escorts, and wondered where Raeh had gone.

  “I do not know, my lord,” he answered. “I’m as surprised by his absence as you are. He was here last night when I fell asleep.”

  “We have reason to believe he may attempt to breach the Canopy and enter the Sacred Caverns. I want you to take my guards and search for him. And pray your search is not in vain. He treads on sacred ground!”

  Abriel set out immediately upon his mission, accompanied by the three temple guards and a growing sense of dread.

  Meanwhile, Raeh stood atop the summit of an ancient peak, gazing up into the billowy Canopy, replaying in his mind the stupendous experience he had known beyond its borders. He had always borne a fettered fascination for that which lay beyond the Canopy, and having now seen it, he would not rest until he returned and secured the honor—stolen or not—of encountering the Image Maker face-to-face.

  His eyes bear the bounty I seek. If He takes notice of me, He will surely grant me the privilege of serving in His court.

  His resolve firm, and plan in place, Raeh spread his eager wings for flight and sprang from the summit smiling.

  Each downward stroke of his wings lifted him higher. Gaining momentum, he soared on the currents of the wind until he reached the farthest boundaries of the Silver Sea. Just as he neared the passage point, one of the guards spotted him in the distance.

  The trio flew in formation. Splitting off, they increased their speed and encircled him.

  “Hail, Raeh!” shouted Domitius, flying near. “What brings you so close to the forbidden zone?”

  “What brings you so far from the Temple? You’ve flown a little beyond your range!”

  “Natriel, of the Seven, wishes to speak with you—now!”

  “I cannot come now, Domitius, I am conducting a mission.”

  “And whose mission might that be?”

  “Never mind. I will present myself to Natriel when my mission is completed.”

  “I have orders, Raeh. Your immediate return is demanded!”

  “And your immediate return would be prudent!”

  “Then you leave us no choice.”

  Raeh pulled his saber from its scabbard and shouted, “It is you who deprive me of choice!”

  Engaging the three Destiners, he dodged their thrusts, parried their jabs, and outmaneuvered them with superior speed and agility. One swipe of his swift blade clipped a guard’s wing, disabling him.

  Another, seeking revenge, clashed with Raeh stroke for stroke, but Raeh, serving a surgical strike, slammed the guardsman on the wrist with the flat of his sab
er, paralyzing his hand and leaving him weaponless. Though the second Destiner made repeated dives at Raeh, he dared not get too close, for such action would surely prove fatal. Domitius and Raeh, sizing one another up, were about to engage when Abriel, who had been watching surreptitiously, dove in from above and cast a meshed net over his insubordinate brother.

  Raeh wrestled beneath the netting, striving against his captors, who with great difficulty overpowered him. He lashed out at Abriel, “This treachery of yours, brother, is a breach of trust rivaling my own trespass! I assure you, it will not go unmet!”

  Abriel said nothing in return, but hung back while the guards took Raeh, kicking and flailing, toward the Emerald Dome, the station of the governing elders. Sick with remorse, he watched as they carried the prisoner against his will to the palace compound, where he later learned that they had delivered him to Natriel, net and all.

  Abriel would have torn to pieces anyone who dared lay a hand on Raeh. Now he had entrapped his own brother. How could Raeh ever understand that Abriel had done it to protect him, that this act had in fact been a selfless one? Sadness felt like a heavy weight in his chest, and he took to flight, seeking solace in the sky.

  Chapter 3

  Raeh, his energies spent, waited in quiet humiliation while considering how he might defend his actions before Natriel, since the gravity of the offense could make anything he said seem trite.

  Yenna, Natriel’s Life-mate and fellow elder, had heard the commotion near Natriel’s quarters, and went to see about it. Seeing Raeh in a heap, on the floor, she rushed toward him. “Why has this Destiner been apprehended in such a brute manner?” she demanded of the guards. Raeh hung his head in shame, for he held Yenna in high esteem.

  Hurried footsteps brought Natriel into his quarter’s waiting area. Annoyed at the sight of Raeh’s crude capture, he ordered, “Free this nobleman of your netting, and relieve us of your company!” But as the guards stepped toward Raeh, Natriel released the net’s closure himself.

  Yenna helped Raeh to his feet. “Whatever is troubling you,” she quietly advised, “you must listen to Natriel. He has your best interest at heart.”

  Natriel led Raeh to his private chambers, a flurry of fragrance following in his wake. It smelled of the jungle’s sweetness—serene, yet vivacious and bright. Walking behind the true nobleman, Raeh wondered what it must be like to be duty-bound, like him, to such privilege.

  Natriel had Raeh take a seat, and pulling up a chair, sat facing him. “We saw you in the Caverns, Raeh. You should know that such trespass does not go unnoticed. You should also know that it cannot be tolerated.”

  “Yes, Lord Natriel, I know.”

  “And you are aware that a repeated offense would bring weighty consequences, are you not?”

  “Yes. I am aware.”

  “Raeh, you must remove from your mind the notion of ever attempting to cross that sacred boundary again. Tell me you can do that.”

  Raeh knew that any effort to mislead Natriel would prove pointless and incriminating, for Natriel possessed the ability to discern truth when spoken to, so he openly confessed.

  “My heart, Lord Natriel, is captured by the mystery on the other side of that Canopy. And my mind is stretched beyond its limits at the Image Maker’s inscrutability! The radiance of His presence—which I have now seen and felt—calls my name. And my heart is gripped with desire to serve amid his splendor!”

  “I understand your passion, Raeh, and can appreciate your zeal. Such an experience is like no other! But I want you to carefully consider what I tell you today. The grace of serving in his presence is not something to be earned. It cannot be won. And it most certainly will not be stolen! It is bestowed.”

  “My lord speaks out of the treasure of his own life, but my life is not as yours. You loiter within the sacrosanct and smell of its privileged perfume. I too long to walk those hallowed halls and feel their sacred sheen rest smooth beneath my ill-fitting feet; and you ask me to remove such notions from my mind?”

  “Raeh, you must learn to temper your zeal and rein in your passion, for they will carry you into greater affliction of soul! It is in your best interest to heed my counsel and submit to the discipline of the Elders. Now, this is our ruling, you are forbidden, until otherwise instructed, to take to any height in the Silver Sea. You will serve within the perimeter of the palace grounds on the late night watch. And Raeh, I would strongly recommend that you listen for the voice of the Life Weaver in the wind.”

  “But, my lord. . .”

  “That is my final word.” He opened the door, and leaning against it, allowed Raeh to leave.

  Raeh felt cheated and humiliated. Walking alone through the public area, he passed Domitius at the palace entrance. “You are fortunate, Domitius,” he jabbed. “Abriel saved you from an embarrassing defeat!”

  “You’re a mere dreamer,” answered Domitius. “I have seen the likes of you come and go around here. Your watch starts tonight. Be on time.”

  That evening, Raeh flew to his assigned post overlooking the sea. The night was windy, and a raging tempest rocked the shifting water, drawing it into leaping heaps and smashing it against the sea cliffs. Heavy laden clouds loomed low, and sheets of pelting rain weighted the wings of the grounded Destiner—a deliberate deterrent, he thought, to his taking flight. Recalling Natriel’ words, he grumbled, “Listen for the voice of the Life Weaver in the wind. . . pffhh! How am I supposed to do that on a night like this?”

  The hours passed ever so slowly for his agitated soul, and after pacing back and forth throughout the greater part of the storm, he stood still in his frustration, his face to the blustery wind.

  Blades of lightning flashed intermittently, casting a haunting light into the squall. Suddenly Raeh caught a glimpse of someone standing near him. Alarmed, he stumbled backward, lost his footing and slipped in the mud. In what seemed an endless split second, a dazzle of blue revealed a tall, barrel-chested being, much like the ruler he had encountered outside the caverns, but with hair worn long in a thick blanket of white.

  Frightened, Raeh clambered backward.

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “I am Life Weaver, Raeh. Have you not been waiting for me all night?” He extended a hand to help the drenched Destiner to his feet, and the instant their hands clasped, the rain ceased, the tumult ended, and the moon shone comfortably through the clouds. In the presence of Life Weaver, Raeh’s fear evaporated.

  Although he felt certain of his wakefulness, he was not convinced of the unlikely scene, and gave his eyes a good knuckle-rubbing. Blinking, he looked again. Neck stretched forward, and body tilted accordingly, he inspected the visitor, squinting.

  “I could pinch you,” suggested Life Weaver.

  “Raeh,” he said more seriously. “You are wide awake. And I am more real than you know!”

  Convinced, Raeh stood slack-jawed.

  “Now that I have your attention,” said Life Weaver, “listen closely. I have come to offer you an opportunity to serve the Image Maker in a different capacity than you now do. It would require that you depart the Silver Sea, along with Abriel, and begin life anew in another universe.”

  “I don’t know what to think, or say, or do!” stammered Raeh.

  “If you wish to consider it, Natriel will meet you at the temple at morning’s light, to apprise you further. Should you accept the offer, he will arrange for safe conduct to the assigned destination.”

  “I do! I will! Uh...thank you!”

  A lightning bolt struck an outgrowth on the cliff above Raeh’s head. Shielding himself from the falling debris, he buried his head in his wing. When he looked up again, Life Weaver was gone.

  “But what of Abriel’s betrayal?” came Raeh’s hollow complaint.

  “Having reached beyond the Canopy, can you now reach beyond yourself?” answered Life Weaver.

  The sun, a dollop of pumpkin-orange, crested the horizon, and Raeh awoke to the shaking grip of talons on his shoulder
. “Wake up! We’re going to be late!”

  His grogginess quickly fled when he saw Abriel standing over him. He sprang to his feet. “You won’t believe it, Abriel! You won’t believe what happened on my watch!”

  He leapt off the ground, his wings bursting open, and rocketed into the air. Arcing high, he descended in swift circular patterns, then landed in front of his amused brother.

  “Raeh,” said Abriel, his excitement more contained, “the Life Weaver appeared to me too! He told me of the plans for the new universe and the privilege we have been given!”

  “Can you believe it, Abriel? They chose us!” And the two bumped chests and shouted in their customary way when at the games.

  “Brothers of destiny! Rrraugh!”

  Happy to be with Abriel again, Raeh felt that forgiving might not be so difficult after all. And they took to the air, ever the amiable competitors, each determined to prove his mettle and outdo the other.

  The ancient Temple, located in the Minyah Valley, and surrounded by orchards on all sides, was the sacred center of Destiners. A cluster of three seven-pointed stars—the Image Maker’s insignia—topped its emerald green dome.

  Arriving at the temple grounds, the brothers came upon Domitius. He greeted Abriel, “Hail, gallant Destiner.” To Raeh, he admitted only the slightest nod.

  In passing, Raeh barbed, “You are much better suited to your station, here on the ground.” And he winked at Domitius.

  Domitius said nothing in reply, but passed a hand over his sword’s scabbard.

  “Do it,” Raeh dared.

  “Abriel! Raeh!” called Natriel from beneath the temple portico. “Come with me!”

  Responding quickly, they rushed to meet the Elder, leaving Domitius to wonder why.

  A pair of stoic sentinels guarded the entrance of a lush, winding path. At Natriel’s approach, they immediately parted.

  Thickened fig trees, their branches fat and meandering, lined the shady path. Overgrown buttress roots descended from the trunks in number, and lay on the ground like giant wooden eels in serpentine fashion.