Women, dressed in tight silk robes, face veiled, blue stones shimmering at the center of their stomachs. They walked elegantly for one who was about to kill another.
So it begins…He thought with difficulty. It was different to believe oneself ready to face death and another to stand firm before it. Merrin was not that strong, and worse, he had told a lie…He had said to the sister that he would burn brighter than anything, however, that would never happen. Like others, he would scorch in the furious power of thunder. A false hope was what he had given these people.
Does a dying scream count as burning brighter? He thought in a feverish attempt at a quip. It failed.
The sisters drew close to the base, both calmly inserting the orb-like queer things into the contraption. They seemed like round glass stones: Oredite, he heard they were called. Why two, though? He wondered. Or did they, too, believe his claim of burning brighter?
Such nonsense.
At most, these actions of theirs would be another attempt to vanish his presence and actions. How demeaning would it be that after his boisterous claim, not even two orbs were given light? These things were likely the outcome the sisters desired. An outcome that shattered the hope the slaves had in him.
And fortunately for them, it seemed their desires were to come through. And she said the almighty didn't answer her prayers...
After placing the orb, the sisters retreated, one settling her hands on the iron pole lever. They remained still, their gazes fixed upon him like invisible eyes hidden in the darkness. What were they anticipating? A cry of agony? Likely, they longed for a scream… or some pitiful display of fragility and dread.
Merrin looked to the gathered crowd. Those eyes that held some modicum of hope. Hope that burned like weak embers amidst the grim darkness. What was he to do with that hope? This seemed like a crossroads, a point where a single mistake destroyed everything. If he failed now, they would lose their hope. Though they were bound to lose it regardless, it was not his place to cause it. For now, he owed them something…Some final serenity. But how was he to achieve that?
Enforce it.
He heaved a deep breath, some droplets of water sucking into his nose. It warmed painfully through his skull, itching a bit, too. Unnerving, yes, but he showed no such reaction. Merrin finally locked eyes with the gathered enslaved, parted his lips, and began to say out loud.
"Watch a man burn," he said, "Don't mourn the man that burns because he doesn't die. No, he lives. The thunder will come, but I will live."
The slaves stared dumbfounded at him…Some clasped their hands, whispering prayers.
More
"Gather your children!" he shouted now, "Bring your wives and husbands, and all will witness. And when you do so, look at me, for I will gaze upon you. A gaze born of a wonderful smile. A smile bathed in the brilliant radiance that will soon come over Nightfell."
What need lies when a man is to die?
"Remember this!" he held back the tears straining within his eyes. "Burn this into minds...Today, you live. Today you won't die, for I will pay that price."
A meaningless price.
"Today you shall return, alive for another day! My name is Merrin Ashman, and I promise solace to you people. A solace of peace and hope"
A final act.
"Pry your eyes wide...I have seen my fate, but I have not seen yours."
The Sister slowly moved the lever.
His heart raced.
"REMEMBER THESE WORDS...WATCH. WITNESS. WATCH AS LIGHT DAWNS OVER NIGHTFELL!"
Be brave.
"BEAR WITNESS TO LIGHT! AND WATCH ME BURN BRIGHTER THAN THE PROMISED SUN"
A sound came, and everything turned white! It all faded; the cave, the slaves, the sisters. All of it burned into the whiteness. The lightning had arrived. He had expected some pain, some torture that broke all predictions. But he felt nothing…Everything simply vanished.
It was wonderful in its own way.
However, Merrin Ashman did not see this, but as soon as the brilliance of heaven came over him. The lightning. He burned. He burned with a radiance of white, never seen and never will be. His radiance encompassed the cruciform, roaring like a trumpet of a thousand jubilations.
The caves shuddered that day. A quake that stretched deep into the very ends of the mines…And with that force of pure power, Light came to Nightfell. All lamps…Every one of them burned and buzzed. It was like a scream, but not one of pain or fear. No. It was one of ceremony, as though the world rejoiced at him. Rejoiced at his action…. Praised him for it.
The sisters stared at the cruciform, alight with a divine whiteness…. A caster?
The slaves knelt…. they prayed, they cried…They praised the light of the sun.
Recorded from the personal journal of a lamp's Gresendent sister.
Merrin was beyond it all, floating high above a sea of black sand—a place where the sky gloomed gray. It's eeriness, veiling all. It was nerve-wracking, yes, but it felt somewhat safe. And as the sky sparked with white lightning, sending ripples of current through the gray world, these whirls of wind rustled him—his clothes and hair. But he reveled in it. Amazingly, a preference for normality existed. The wind over the heat…Even the steam, maybe.
He was at peace here. Free from the constant screams of fear and death and self thoughts. Here, he could sleep forever. Much better, the scent of ash was existent, permeating softly through the place. Wherever "this place" was.
Nonetheless, it bathed him, the scent, the sweetness of sensations. Despite that, something broke into his cogitation. An awareness of a forgotten thing. Something earlier, something that shouldn't be disremembered. Something that seemed crucial.
He saw a bird.
It descended from the churning gray sky, wings like dark plates interlocked. It flapped down, rustling the winds by it. And with sharp eyes clear as crystal waters, they gleamed as it bared its metal-sheened beak, cawing. No beastly cry resounded—only words. Words that reverberated through the world, silencing even the lightning.
"And so he listens!"
Merrin awoke, an advertence of his surroundings surging through. He floated—this he knew—but why? Am I in damnation?
That seemed a prominent possibility.
However, the thought vanished as he caught sight of the creature. It was the size of a man's head, yet it exuded an unnerving presence as though a thing of immense destruction. Destruction that brought ruin.
Then he remembered—the bird had spoken.
"Are you the Almighty?" he asked, surprised at how lucid his voice sounded despite the absurdity of his situation.
It flapped its wings in response, hovering before him a few meters away. "No," the bird said, voice strangely soothing. A familiar one. "Pardon, but I can't see why you'd make such similarities. Perhaps some lingering madness?"
"Who are you then? And… you talk?" Merrin found that to be quite the obvious question. Yes, compared to a vast alien world, a talking bird seemed irrelevant. Pale in comparison. However, he had to ask. And the possible answer was something that haunted him. He had once heard of intelligent Fallen, maybe even seen one, but this didn't seem akin to that.
For one, the Fallen were dangerous, vile creatures—horrible monstrosities that sought only carnage. This, on the other hand, was something else. Though he felt a nervous fear of the bird, it wasn't the same as what he had heard or felt before, not like the one that had caused him so much pain.
Merrin settled his jaw, calming the memory.
The bird was silent for some time, its wings flowing like a calm breeze. "False, I have spoken many times. It is you who simply refused to listen," it said. "I screamed with the rest, but your ears were dull, and your eyes veiled. So much so that I took a form to speak to you, and even then, you didn't truly listen."
The words echoed out, slamming into his mind with a force of realization, and it dawned on him. A bright light flashed across the sky as Merrin gaped aware.
"You're… you're that child!" he said. "But this…?" How was this possible? The boy was just a coincidence, one that helped him overcome his fear. At least for that moment. So why was this creature talking like him?
"You were that boy?" Merrin asked in low tones, one that seemed timid amidst the roaring sky of lightning and thunder.
The bird, on the other hand. "Yes…I said this before." It tilted its head. "A mad El'shadie? Wouldn't be a first, I suppose." Its voice seemed undeterred by the titanic winds.
"Why did you…." Merrin huffed. "Why did you come to me? Why did you say all of that?" It was your words that made me die. "Why come to me at all? What was the point?"