Incarnation: Wandering Stars Volume One by Jason Tesar
Sariel exhaled deeply, trying to expel the dread and anxiety that had lodged itself in his chest the day his love was taken captive. As he looked out now to the horizon, tears came to his eyes and rolled back across his temples, driven by the wind beating against his face—the liquid manifestation of his overwhelmed soul, beginning to drain away. “I’m sorry about your family … your people. I’ll never leave you alone again.”
Now Sheyir lifted her head. Wisps of hair flew wildly about her face. She squinted at the bright sunlight, but her mouth was curled up at the corners. “Where are we going?”
Without taking his eyes off her, Sariel answered. “Away. Far away!”
* * * *
“Look!” one of the Anduar called out.
Danduel spun around and glanced over the marching formation of soldiers to see an Iryllur flying rapidly along the peninsula. “Who is …?” he trailed off as he realized what he was witnessing. “No,” he said quietly.
The Iryllur came to a hover and plucked one of the women from the road, passing over the waters of the bay before gaining altitude.
“NO!” he screamed. “Where is Nuathel? He’s getting away!”
“My Rada,” another soldier said, pointing toward the eastern gate.
Danduel turned around to see an angel standing in the road directly in front of the Anduar formation. He was wingless, a Speaker from the Eternal Realm. One of his arms was missing, but despite his odd, incomplete look, he carried an aura of authority.
“Pri-Rada Ganisheel sent me to check on your progress. Semjaza is dead and it looks like congratulations are in order.”
Danduel’s heart quickened in his chest at the words of the Speaker. Sariel must have been successful in honoring his promise, but now he was escaping. Fim-Rada Nuathel and his Iryllurym hadn’t returned. And the rest of the Myndarym had vanished without a trace. All of these thoughts rushed through his mind in an instant, stealing the sense of satisfaction that should come with victory.
“You can forget about tracking the Myndarym,” the speaker continued.
Suddenly Danduel’s thoughts and emotions converged upon a single point. “But my mission is not complete. Semjaza’s kingdom has fallen, but there are many more who must be brought to justice.”
“Yes, I understand,” the Speaker replied dismissively. “But that is another task … for someone else.”
Danduel paused for a moment, not quite believing his ears. “But … surely the Pri-Rada knows that we have evidence of their cooperation with the demons? And it may not have been Semjaza himself.”
The Speaker drew in a breath, then exhaled slowly. “The Pri-Rada is aware of this. But you are ordered to return. Rest assured, Fer-Rada, that alternate plans are underway. Nothing goes unseen from the gaze of the Holy One.”
“Indeed,” Danduel replied quickly, bowing his head immediately in submission. “We will return at once.”
CHAPTER 31
THE GREAT WATERS
Three months after the army of heavenly soldiers passed through Dalen a-Sorgud on their way to catch up with the Myndarym, Enoch found himself sitting on a rocky point looking northward over the vast expanse of the Great Waters. The sunlight danced along the gentle surface glittering with a million points of silver light. The journey had taken him just over two weeks and, as he had done every day since his arrival, he wondered why he was here. After he had met with the Amatru and told them of the Myndarym’s whereabouts, he’d followed the vision that the Holy One had given him. It had led him to this place, but as he’d learned over the years, the next step of obedience wasn’t always obvious. Sometimes, it didn’t become obvious to him until after it had already happened. He hoped that was not the case this time.
Holy One, I miss Zacol and Methu. I have not seen them in over a year. Methu must be so big by now. My heart longs to be home, among them. And even among my people. Forgive my questions, but what do You require of me? Why have You brought me here? It is empty. Truly these waters are great, but as far as my eyes can see, I am alone. What is left for me to do, but to sit and stare at Your creation? I should be back in Sedekiyr. My people need me. They do not hear Your voice unless I tell them what You speak. They are lost without me. My voice is silent among them now and I fear that everything You have accomplished among them will have to be repeated. The weight of this responsibility falls heavy on me and all I can do is wait for You. Please forgive my questions. Please answer me!
Back in Sedekiyr Enoch used to sit along the shores of a nearby river. The sight of the trickling water and the constant, gentle sound was soothing to him. It was his place of refuge and a time to listen for the voice of the Holy One. The Great Waters felt much the same now. His ears were fed a banquet of sounds, from the low and steady murmur of distant, crashing waves, to the sharper sound of the water colliding with the rocks beneath him. For his eyes, large patches of reflected light swayed with the movement of water; blending, then separating. On the horizon the light seemed to meld together into a blanket that covered everything, eventually merging with the orange sky above. Enoch smiled as he thought about the predominant belief among his own people. That somewhere out there, at the edge of the world, the sky reached down into the water and the water reached up to the sky. Until his journey into the Eternal Realm, it had also been his belief—that the sky was simply the waters above. But in that disorienting moment when he was lifted from the earth, he saw the world as he moved away from it. What began as a limitless horizon quickly bent downward at both ends. What he perceived to be an endless expanse of flat terrain changed into a sphere which hung in the darkness. And all around it, a soft blue haze was gathered like a mist. It now seemed obvious to him. If the sky was simply the waters above, why didn’t it shimmer like this?
With these thoughts spinning through his head, Enoch noticed a sudden change in the shimmer on the surface, several hundred yards out. The light swirled, then broke into two intersecting lines. The point where the lines converged was moving quickly to the southeast, coming closer to the land as it moved across the path of his vision.
Enoch rose from his position and put a hand to his forehead, trying to block the glare from the setting sun. Now that it was close enough, he understood that something large was moving through the water, just under the surface. When it passed beyond the point on which he stood, it began to curve to the south and out of sight.
It’s circling, Enoch thought. Stepping down off his rock, he started to run through the tall grass, trying to keep up with it. He dodged to the side of a sprawling tree and pushed through a hedge of brush just in time to see the massive wake move beyond another point to the east. Enoch ran once more, down into a shallow valley and up the other side. When he crested the hill, he had to climb through a tangle of thick branches that seemed to be competing with one another for territory.
Finally, pushing a vine aside, Enoch could see a tiny cove with steep, rocky terrain on its western side gradually merging with the flat, sandy terrain in the east. On the sand, just before the water’s edge, a group of tall figures was gathered. Enoch was suddenly choked by the lump in his throat. His heart, already beating quickly from the exertion, now thumped powerfully in his chest, as it did anytime he felt fear. Even at a distance of a hundred yards, Enoch could tell that the figures on the shore were the same as those he’d lived with in Aragatsiyr. However, something was quite different about their appearance.
Cautiously moving closer, Enoch began to see the difference. Some were smaller than before, wearing the forms of humans. Most were large, like the armies of the Amatru. Animal features had been blended with human and angelic features, while some wore their animal forms altogether. The water in the bay swirled and rose to outline a round shape. As it lifted from the water, strands of dark blue light ran down from its spherical surface. Then Enoch saw the eyes, glowing like fire, but blue and green in color. He was seeing only the head of the massive creature with long hair flowing down into the water. When its pale blue neck
These are the gods whom the Kahyin worship!
It was as if a veil had been removed from his eyes. He remembered in that instant how these magnificent creatures had first appeared in his sight, before their splendor was eclipsed by the beauty of the Throne, and the One who sat upon it.
Ananel was not among them. Neither was Sariel. And as soon as he thought of the winged soldier he remembered something Sariel had once said to him.
It takes years to learn a form; generations of your time to master it. Forms are not chosen lightly.
Enoch was now struck with a realization—the Myndarym had been lying to him all this time. While they had played the part of the victims of Semjaza’s oppressive rule, they had been studying and mastering these forms the entire time. And if they wore these forms now, why hadn’t they made use of them during the battle with Semjaza? It was obvious now, as he looked upon the motley assortment of intimidating creatures, that their forms held no other purpose than to put themselves in positions of control over this world. And they had been so committed to keeping the depth of their iniquity a secret they had allowed hundreds of holy angels to fight and die on their behalf.
Enoch ground his teeth together.
Through the loud pounding in his chest a firm conviction cut like a blade, immediately silencing all doubts. It left little room for question or uncertainty about its origin.
Go Enoch.
Go and speak to my Wandering Stars.
With immediate obedience, Enoch stepped away from the trees and began to walk along the top of the ridge that swung down to the beach. With fear still coursing through his veins he approached the creatures who could smash him like an insect in one swift movement. But greater still than his fear of the Myndarym’s new forms was his wonder of the Holy One. He would never forget the sight of Him sitting upon His sapphire throne, encircled by countless multitudes of Keruvym. He could still feel the heat from the tongues of fire which surrounded the crystalline city. And he knew that as long as he lived, nothing would ever surpass the feeling of power and majesty that he felt in the presence of the Holy One. Though he walked now into a situation that would have caused other men to tremble, he was confident that he would be protected.
“… burden of authority,” someone said as Enoch neared.
“Semjaza is defeated and his kingdom overthrown. The Amatru have returned to the Eternal Realm,” someone else answered.
Enoch continued walking toward the group, wondering when he would be noticed.
“Now we find ourselves here, unrestrained, ruling over the land, sea, and air. No longer do we have Myndar, Anduar, Iryllur, and Vidir—the classifications of the Amatru. This is a new world. We are all equals.”
“But only some of us are here,” another offered.
“Yes,” another replied. “I propose that this new era demands the establishment of a leadership with these principles in mind.”
The enormous sea creature moaned with what seemed to be disapproval. “We came here to escape such things,” it said with a booming, lonely voice, “to live in freedom, in whatever forms we wished. Now you want to establish more tyranny?”
A tall, winged creature raised his hand. His skin was black as the night and his wings were featherless, with skin stretched over a framework of thin bones. “Not tyranny,” he argued. “A gathering of equals. Of course we all desire to roam from place to place and live as we please. And we will do that. But eventually, we will run into issues of jurisdiction, ownership of land and people. I suggest that we start this discussion now. To meet at some regular interval to work out these matters before they become problems. Not tyranny, but a council.”
Enoch continued walking toward the group, now conscious of the sound of his steps padding across the soft sand. He couldn’t stand to be silent any longer, disgusted by what he was hearing. “How dare you!” he shouted.
The Myndarym, in their multitude of forms, turned in unison, eyes wide with surprise.
Enoch looked now from one grotesque creature to the next. It was a much smaller group than before and he wondered if many had been killed in the battle, or if these were simply the only ones who hadn’t gone their own way.
“How did you get here, Prophet?” asked a tall and beautiful woman. Her skin was pale and perfectly smooth, and she glared at Enoch with piercing turquoise eyes.
“Why does it continue to surprise you that nothing is hidden from the sight of the Holy One?” Enoch shot back. He’d never spoken to them in this way before, but the days of being friends with such creatures were over.
“This is a private meeting,” a wolf-headed creature growled. His oversized human body now seemed tense, as if he were expecting to attack at any moment. “It has nothing to do with you!”
Enoch shook his head slowly without removing his gaze. “When will you learn? You have all come here to discuss how you will divide this world that is not yours to begin with. You believe this meeting is part of your plans. But you are wrong. The Holy One brought me here months ago. And now I see that you have been gathered to me to hear your judgment.”
To his left, the air swirled and twisted in such a way that Enoch knew another Myndar was present, floating along in the form of the thing that it had sustained at one point of its life, and shaped at another. At the back of the crowd, toward the sea, Enoch saw another begin to shimmer as the angel started to shape into something else.
“Here is what the Holy One has to say to you. ‘If you desire, in the hardness of your hearts, to live in a place that is not meant for you, then so be it. You will have what you want … for a time!’”
As soon as the words came out of Enoch’s mouth, he felt a sudden relief. A weight lifted off his shoulders and he knew immediately that his task had been fulfilled. He turned away suddenly, eager to begin the long journey home. As his feet took their first steps across the sand, he could hear the laughter just starting to crop up among the rebellious angels.
First one.
Then another.
Finally, all of the Myndarym joined in, laughing heartily at the powerless words of a tiny human.
By the time Enoch had taken twenty steps, the laughter came to an abrupt end and Enoch thought he heard choking.
“I … can’t … shape,” someone grunted, sounding as if they were in great pain.
Enoch didn’t bother turning around. He didn’t need to. Whatever judgment the Holy One would bring about was no business of his. He no longer had to concern himself with their disobedience or their punishment. Instead, he felt only great anticipation. He envisioned the day when he would look out across the grassy plains and see Sedekiyr in the distance. He couldn’t wait to pick up Methu and embrace him; to stare into Zacol’s eyes once again. This was all that was on his mind now. And it brought a smile to his face.
* * * *
FAR NORTHWEST OF MUDENA DEL-EDHA
Sheyir walked slowly, looking downward. Her left hand rested on the growing bump of her belly, unconsciously rubbing it.
“Do you see it?” Sariel asked from up ahead.
Sheyir suddenly pulled her hand away and looked up. She smiled quickly, hoping that Sariel hadn’t noticed, but her heart pounded with fear.
Sariel was facing ahead and only now turned around. His human form, though tall, was far less intimidating than his angelic form. His bright blue eyes looked out through the mist with compassion, while his shaggy, white hair and beard gave him the distinguished look of a tribe elder. “There, just where the mountains come together. Do you see it?”
“Yes,” she answered this time. Her throat was constricted and the panic in her answer sounded obvious to her own ears.
“They are a peaceful people,” he continued. “Like the Chatsiyram, they are also descended from the Shayetham. Their language is nearly identical to yours. We’ll be safe there.”
Sheyir smiled again and Sariel turned around, continuin
Sooner or later, he’s going to find out, she thought with disappointment. What will he think of me then?
Sariel abruptly stopped walking. One of his hands reached back toward her, while the other went to his forehead. He stood there for a moment, wavering on unsteady feet. Slowly, he crouched to the ground.
“My love!” Sheyir exclaimed, rushing forward.
Sariel was now down on his knees in the dirt. One hand was clutching his stomach.
“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”
Sariel looked up with a sad resignation in his eyes. “Something has changed. I … I can’t shift.” He squinted as if he were exerting himself. “I can’t shape either.”
Sheyir knelt down and picked his hand up from the ground, feeling the damp soil between their intertwined fingers. “You can’t go back, can you?”
Sariel shook his head from side to side. Slowly, the lines of concern running across his forehead softened and seemed to change places, moving to the sides of his eyes as his expression turned to a smile.
“I wouldn’t, even if I was still able,” he assured her.
__________
BOOKS BY JASON TESAR
THE AWAKENED
Awaken His Eyes | Book 1
Paths of Destruction | Book 2
Hands to Make War | Book 3
Combined Edition | Books 1-3
Seeds of Corruption | Book 4
Hidden from Men | Book 5
Foundations of the World | Book 6
Combined Edition | Books 4-6
WANDERING STARS
Incarnation | Volume 1
Manifestation | Volume 2
Inhabitation | Volume 3
Regeneration | Volume 4
The Making of Incarnation | A Reader’s Companion
OTHER STORIES
Emit (a short story)
HOW YOU CAN HELP
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