The Corin Chronicles Volume I: The Light and the Dark (7 page)

The fortress remained silent, exposing the thunderous sounds still in the sky. A number of humans and gods alike opened their mouths to speak but could not form any words. The humans who managed to utter fragments of words retracted them abruptly. Following a long moment of confusion, Feliath rose to his feet. “But surely, Father, perpetual daylight is nearly as bad as constant darkness. They will never have any real sense of time.”

“I do not believe they have the luxury of choosing their fate,” interrupted Craxin. “But if they were to choose, I am sure they will prefer the light over the darkness.”

“But this act in itself makes us just as cruel as Baran,” Feliath said. He turned toward Auphora. “We must show mercy, Father, even if the Red God does not.”

“I am not a god of mercy,” Auphora growled. “I am a god of power.”

Feliath, like every other human and god in the fortress, looked at Auphora wide eyed.

The God of Gods relaxed and took a deep breath. “Please understand that what I do, I do because it is necessary, and is also the best thing for this planet.” Auphora gently placed his hands on his chin. “The Dark World will be uninhabitable and will be the only place capable of isolating Baran indefinitely. It will be difficult at first for the inhabitants of the Light World to adapt to constant daylight, but adapt they will. And they will be grateful for the chance I am giving them. In time, I believe that I will be proven right in my belief that there is still hope for Corin.”

“What about the rest of us? What do we do now?” asked Craxin.

“We continue as before,” replied Auphora. “Every planet corrupted by Baran will return to its rightful god, and together we shall help to repair the damage inflicted as a result of this despicable war.” He paused for a second to clear his throat. “Following that, nothing has yet been written.”

And so the war ended, and Auphora claimed victory once more, victory over one of his own children. The memories of the First Coming slowly returned across the universe, including those of the mass graves that filled the lands, from Shoraux to Sontana. Men continued to lose all faith, and women hid their children from the pain and brutality that smothered the universe. “Victory,” Auphora called it, but the citizens of Corin knew it only as evil in its purest form. Many of them continually screamed in the night, as the darkness that clouded their dreams became their reality. The humans lucky to avoid his wrath faced a different kind of solitude, one that cursed them with endless daylight and so threatened madness. But amid all this, the God of Gods remained undeterred, basking within Mount Pyro, where he remained unchallenged.

However, his attention was soon drawn to another. It is said that a child, of no known ties to the gods, shall lead an army against the evil that is Auphora, cleansing everything unholy from the universe before resurrecting the true God of Gods, Baran, the only deity to challenge the malignity that taints the world. The child shall be known by many titles, and all shall remember his name for eternity. The Anointed One cometh, to restore the will of men who no longer believe.

Anointed unus Cometes, The Anointed One Cometh

Author: Cronay Philipala, The Second Coming

And the cloud that swallowed the galaxy had finally been lifted, the evil that threatened our very survival stricken from existence. Many worshiped Baran, the Red God of Corin, but many died at the behest of his judgment. His reign saw death and torture. His army marched without compassion or pity. He threatened to swallow the universe with his greed and savagery. It is only with the divine intervention of the Father of us all, the great Auphora, that we have survived. With the galaxy on the verge of embracing peace, a new enemy has emerged from the depths of Perdition. An enemy destined to raise the army of Baran once more. I call on you, my brothers and sisters, to hunt down this child, even unto his death. It is prophesised that should the Red God return, he shall do so with great power, enough to even overthrow the God of us all. Together, we must end all hope of those who embrace his return. The Anointed One must be destroyed.

Dies nos errant Vindico ex Malum,

The Day we were Delivered from Evil

Author: Casius Milakutz, The Second Coming

2.1

A
M
OTHER’S
L
OVE

T
en years after the Battle of Corin and the division of the planet between the realms of Light and Dark, many of its citizens fled to neighboring worlds in fear and panic, seeking refuge. Most traveled on rogue forms of transportation. For some it was years before they finally emerged from the tunnel-like portal known as the Shallows, which stretched the galaxy and connected the inhabited worlds. The treacherous journey saw many falling to their deaths due to illness, predators, and the volatile climate.

Although sympathetic to those who fled, Auphora had made it abundantly clear that those who still preached the words of Baran would be captured and sent back to the Dark World of Corin, so the refugees often arrived at their destinations only to face suspicion and persecution. Among these refugees was Selena Simpa, a young mother who longed for the safety of her ten-year-old son and therefore sought the services of the most reliable protectors on the planet Tyranis.

Selena’s arrival on the docks of Calcara brought her a great sense of relief, though the green moon and icy weather of Tyranis differed drastically from that of her own planet. The darkness that filled the night sky around her was also a welcome sight after leaving the realms of Corin. For so long, she had not seen the sun set or even a glimpse of the Red Moon since the divide of her world.

But Calcara was not the village she had imagined, with happy, bright colors everywhere, and a stream of welcoming faces. What she observed instead was a stream of citizens from Corin scampering around and trying to find carriages that would take them to places considered safe from the multitude of soldiers that hunted them.

In the confusion, Selena found it difficult to distinguish the people of Tyranis from those of Corin. She did notice that a few of the men had cleaner, better-groomed faces, and she could only imagine that they were from Tyranis. Her own face she kept hidden behind a veil, with only her eyes showing. She had clothed her son in the same way, though it certainly made him seem more out of place. It was not uncommon for women to shield their faces, but for a boy so young to do the same was unusual.

Walking through the crowd of people, she tried her utmost not to listen to any of the conversations taking place, for everything she had heard up until that point had been tales of sorrow, despair, and death. Holding on to her son, she crossed a thin wooden bridge, holding the same sheet of paper she had kept in her hand for most of her trip out in front of her. She knew who she sought, but in a place with so many faces, she could not be sure. Merely walking up to men and asking if they were the one she was looking for would only invite suspicion. After all, she did not know who the man was. She only knew his name, whispered on the dying breath of a woman she had met only a few months before.

In between the loud screams of the winged Kalkarat that had transported them for the first half of her journey, the woman had said that he was a good man, a compassionate man who had lived in both Corin and Tyranis. A man who would be sympathetic to their needs, regardless of what their story might be. She knew nothing more of him, except his height, but all around her were plenty of men who were at least the six feet the woman had described. She also remembered the woman saying that he had kind, gentle eyes, but in the middle of war, it was hard to look into a man’s eyes and distinguish between kindness and cruelty.

Selena continued to make her way through the first village she came to. As she left the docks, following her arrival into the eastern shores of Tyranis, she had noticed that there were a number of villages within close proximity of each other, separated by thin walls. Beyond them was a dense forest, which she assumed led to the river that paved the way to the rest of Tyranis, the River Kinetic.

A number of elderly women stood in front of tents, offering care to the wounded, along with food, clothes, and water to anyone who required them. Selena grimaced upon seeing children younger than her own son wielding swords and practising with men on the appropriate way to use the weapons in battle. She knew that things would never return to the way they were before the war, but she hoped she could one day escape the death that seemed to follow her everywhere she went.

The deeper into the village she got, the number of tents lessened, replaced by huts and cottages. Some seemed to provide shelter and food, but she knew that it was not completely safe, being so close to the border separating Corin and Tyranis. As she searched, she started to lose all hope of finding the man who could protect her and her son. As she had done many times that day, she tried to converse with the boy, but he refused to speak, as he had always done when people he did not know were in close proximity. Instead, he only nodded his head gently each time she had asked if he was all right.

As they walked farther into the village, a small gathering drew Selena’s attention. A semicircle of people listened to a man preaching about the need for unity and the start of a revolt against the gods, especially their own god, Sebitatus. The man wore a large, furry hat that covered much of his head. But his pale blue eyes and coarse white beard caught Selena’s attention. Holding on to her son, she stopped just outside the crowd to listen.

The man spoke in Tyranis’ native tongue, which was just similar enough to her own Corin dialect that she could understand what he said. Although she did not pay much attention to the words spoken, she took an immediate interest when he touched on a particular subject.

“The prophecy is true,” the man said. “The Anointed One walks among us and could be here at this very moment.” The crowd gasped, and Selena squeezed her son’s hands ever so lightly. “His presence has brought about many whispers, that our god grows restless in trying to find him,” the man continued. “The forests all have ears. The will of men is being tested to see if we all truly serve the God of Gods. But how can we surrender such a young child, knowing that certain death awaits him, even if it is for the Father of us all?”

Selena’s attention drifted as the man spoke. She remembered the devastation she witnessed before fleeing Corin, the sight of huts burning to the ground as the prophecy about the Anointed One spread across the Light World. The frame of a tall man in ragged clothing suddenly appeared in her periphery. His face was clean shaven, and his cheeks practically glowed in contrast to his rough clothing.

The man caught her eye a few times and smiled softly, but he did not say a word. She wondered whether he had come to listen to the man preaching or to look at her. He had, after all, not emerged until right after her own appearance. They exchanged glances a few more times before the man started to approach. Seeing this, her young son emitted small, frightened noises. Selena put both her arms around the boy to calm him.

“Do not worry, my lady,” the man said. “I mean no harm to you or the boy.” Selena maintained the grip on her son, and her face tensed. “Please,” the man continued, “you have no need to fear me. My name is Elwin, and I just noticed that you had been walking around for a while now, not entering any of the tents or huts offering food and shelter. If I may, my lady, placing that veil over the boy’s face will most certainly attract more attention, which I am guessing you do not especially want.”

Sensing a sincere tone in the man’s voice, Selena gently edged forward, still holding her son tightly. “How I choose to dress my son is none of your concern,” she said firmly. “And no, it is not shelter I seek.”