Colin Tabor - The Fall of Ossard

Had the city fallen too far?

Yes it had, and I had to accept it.

It was time to return to Newbank.

I shepherded Baruna, Marco, and the others across the meandering waters of the river. It was surprisingly easy. I offered to vouch for the Heletians amongst them, but the Flet ferrymen were happy enough to take them – for a fee. To get them across took a while as their numbers had again grown. By the time we’d finished it was dark, but at least we were home.

We returned to find the district celebrating. The streets about the river were busy with people, many dancing, laughing, and drinking by the flaring and ruddy light of the city-side fires. People cheered the blazes as they did each departing boatload of warriors crossing to join the fight.

It was sickening.

These weren’t my people, not those who could revel in such misery and death. I turned my back on them in shame only to find myself facing Baruna, Marco, and the others.

I realised that these were my people. They were the ones seeking peace, not the blood-lusting fanatics and opportunists fighting over the ruins of Market Square, or the cruel people behind me who claimed loyalty through a coincidence of common heritage. My people stood before me; those loyal to life for its own miraculous sake.

Baruna asked, “What of your family?”

While I’d not found any trace of Maria and Pedro, the day’s events had left me exhausted. I needed to rest.

I looked to those gathered, and for the first time I saw them in both this world and the next. They shone before me, their pure souls flaring, all good people caught in a tainted and dying place. About us raged flames, hate, and madness, yet between us nested hope.

An unusual green light sparkled within them, almost hidden away in the depths of their souls. I noticed it also shone out from my own, pulsing like a heartbeat. Seeing it in the dark void of the celestial, a place normally disturbed only by blues, violets, and life-lights of white, made me realise how unique we were.

We did have a link, a common purpose…

I smiled. “We have to get you settled, all of you.”

Their faces lit up, and to my surprise I realised that many of them were also confused as to why they followed me.

I continued, “We’ll go to my home where there’ll be room for all, though it will be cramped. Once there we can prepare for what comes next.”

Relief flooded their faces. They were glad to have direction amidst Ossard’s chaos. Beside me, Baruna and Marco grinned.

A young man called out, “Please my Lady, what does come next?”

It was a good question, and left me only too aware of their eyes upon me. I began unsure of what to say, but with an intention of only sharing the truth. “I won’t give you false comfort, for the upheaval about us is only the first flicker of the flames to come. Doom is approaching; the very fall of Ossard. You can either join the madness or turn from it. The fall’s hunger for power and death surrounds us, but what of peace and life? That’s what I seek. If Ossard can’t host them then the city is twice damned and I’ll leave.”

He asked, “Where will we go?”

“There is a place where we’ll find sanctuary, and from there we’ll look for an opportunity to stop our home’s final fall.”

Hope sparkled in their eyes and smiles settled on their faces. They were reassured, and with that reassurance came a strengthening of their feelings towards me: They had faith.

Two thirds of those following me were Heletian, seeing me wonder if they’d be safe in Newbank when it spread so aroused. I hoped so. “Please follow close, we’ll talk more when we reach home.”

They nodded and left me to lead the way.

We got to my home to find it secure and quiet. I unlocked the door and led them in, directing them through to the courtyard; it was the only place I’d be able to talk to all of them when gathered. I hadn’t counted, but I guessed that they now numbered about two score or more.

A voice exclaimed from the kitchen, “What’s all this?” It was Sef.

I laughed as I got Baruna to lead on the others, telling her, “Kurt’s in the stables, tell him you’re my guests.” I rushed into the kitchen to find Sef standing over the cooking fire where he tended a stew.

He smiled, but gestured to the parade of silhouettes passing behind me. “What’s going on?”

“They followed me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It started at the square.”

“One of them was with you at the opera house?”

“Yes, Baruna. I’ve asked nothing of them, and they just want to follow me – ever since my casting.”

“Yes, the casting…” he sounded troubled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t you sense it?”

“Sense what?”

“The strangeness of the casting, of the blessing Schoperde gave you?”

“I don’t know what you mean?” But my doubts began to stir.

“Well…” he began, but his voice faded as he looked over my shoulder.

I turned to find Marco.

He said, “They’re gathered.”

“I’ll be out soon.”

He left, so I turned back to Sef. “What?”

The Kavist stepped forward and placed his hands on my shoulders as he met my gaze. “Juvela, for a while you thought you were to be a witch like your grandmother, today you thought you were a daughter of Schoperde, but now I suggest that you are in fact something else.”

I began shaking my head from side to side as I stepped back and pushed his hands away. “Sef, I am of Schoperde. I handled her blessings. I know that I’ve never known a lot of her or been particularly devout, but today I felt her grace!”

“Juvela, I don’t doubt you felt something. She’s a god, the god of life, and the one who also oversees the birth of new deities.”

I tensed as my apprehension grew. “What are you saying?”

His eyes sparkled as the big Flet struggled to hold back tears. “Juvela, someone has to shepherd in the new.”

“But I feel a link to her!”

“Juvela, I’m just a mortal priest, but you’re an avatar; the seed of a god yet to be born. You know that and so do I. Your soul is too old, textured, and layered for it to be anything else. It’s strong, so strong that none in this city who’d have reason to harm you prior to your awakening have been able to.”

“But Schoperde gave me the means to save all those people?”

“Your blessing did save many, and it was good and pure, but it wasn’t of Schoperde.”

I shook my head in anger at these new questions and the confusion they brought. “If not of Schoperde, then who?”

“You.”

I was a god?

He went on, “Sweet Juvela, your soul’s awakening. Now and in this life-time you’re going from an avatar to the divine!”

I snapped, “Stop it! I’m sick of this! And in the end what does it matter?”

He dropped to his knees in front of me. “Juvela, think of it: The city is dying, just like cities have died before amidst upheaval and bloody chaos – and from the greatest of those ruins always have arisen new gods.”

I shook my head in disbelief at the connection he was making. “Are you saying that people are dying because of me?”

“No! I’m saying that when cities the size of Ossard, cities rich in souls, fall, that it can uplift avatars to see them awakened into godhood. Who knows how many avatars walk the world, but right now you’re the strongest in Ossard. During the coming soul harvest, when all that gathered power begins overflowing, it’s going to find you.”

I was horrified at the very notion.

He went on, “Look at the Heletians’second god, Saint Baimio…”