The Manifestation of Light

By Ryan A Shimek

In the city of Valour, the priests and priestesses of Edara, the Goddess of Light, await the birth of a child to replace one of their own in service to the goddess. When Aven's child arrives and is claimed by Edara, he kidnaps the infant and escapes the city, where he is greeted by a world thought to have been abandoned by the gods. Braving the wilds beyond the city's border to save his son's life he encounters a woman named Tishett in a forest touched by Death himself. With her help, Aven must survive the deadliest of trials, and discovers that their histories are filled with lies. The world was never abandoned by the gods, it was consumed by them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan A Shimek
• Release date: Aug 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310767272

Book preview

Prologue

Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

The clinking of metal chains, the steady dripping, and an occasional pathetic whimper were unable to break Vitar's attention away from his newest book. However, the fact that it was his newest acquisition didn't mean it was young in age, and it had instantly become the most dated in his vast collection. Completely awed as he ran his fingers across the faded, yet still legible text, Vitar couldn't believe such a book still existed in this world. The family who had protected its existence had been very careful and diligent in doing so—until recently, anyways.

As he flipped through the pages he couldn't help but admire the intricacy of the portraits contained within. I wonder how accurate these depictions could actually be, Vitar thought. Certainly the gods and goddesses wouldn’t have let some mortal hand depict them in a book. He flipped the pages and stopped on the page of Maneth, the faceless god. His skin prickled against the featureless gaze, and with a shudder he quickly flipped the page. His eyes narrowed on a woman with yellow curls hugging her face. Ah, here we are; Edara, Goddess of Light. You look every ounce the bitch I’ve always imagined you to be.

Vitar’s eyes began to burn, and he found himself unable to pull his gaze from his goddess. Her eyes seemed almost as if they lived within the paper, and he could sense the scorn they held for him. Sweat trickled down his brow and into his eyes, causing the burn within to intensify. He found himself incapable of blinking, and he commanded his arm to move, to shut the book, but it defied him. Every muscle in his body started to spasm, and each involuntary flinch brought a flare of burning pain. He took a deep breath and focused his mind on his arm. He gritted his teeth while he worked to will the strength back into his limb. He roared from the depths of his throat in defiance and poured every ounce of his power into his disobedient limb. The force holding him down crumbled and he slammed the book shut. He snarled to himself and spit off to the side. Damn it, I hate women, scornful creatures.

Vitar wiped the sweat from his face and glanced around the room. It would have been pitch dark if it wasn't for the lone candle that glowed next to him. In an ironic twist of fate, Edara had damned him as her sole Priest of Light. The only fate more ironic than this would have been being born with the Manifestation itself. Goddess be damned, but I hate the light. Edara's city, Valour, was forever tainted by the stuff. Dark never truly touched the sky. It was sickening. He had blacked out his windows long ago, and thus made the chambers his only sanctuary.

Vitar drummed his finger atop the leather tome and allowed his gaze to drift toward the soft sobs that came from the darkness. He adjusted the sword at his waist and picked up the candle as he stood. The echo of rattling chains intensified as he waded into the black, and the light of the tiny flame fought back against the absolute dark.

Vitar paced around the circle of paved stones and looked down as he inspected the three blood-drenched drains that collected the messes of his work. He raised the candle toward the ceiling and followed the chains that hung from its ancient boards. Vitar tested the clasps of the manacles to ensure they hadn’t loosened against their current patron’s struggle. He smiled at Miern as he clicked a loose bolt back into place. Thank you kindly for my new book, Vitar said. The man's lips trembled as he met Vitar's gaze. He’s so close to breaking. All this man needs is a push.

He circled his prisoner with his free hand cupped around his chin, Vitar worked to determine the state of Miern’s health. The remnants of yesterday’s talks still oozed, and the drains below swallowed the dripping blood with eagerness. Vitar looked into his eyes and showed off his teeth with a curl of his upper lip. Miern’s face drooped and his chin quivered. Yes, he is just about ready, but push him too far and he won’t survive it. How are you feeling today, Miern? Vitar said in his deep scratchy voice.

P-pl-please have mercy, sir. I beg you, Miern said through broken lips. His voice shook like the chains that held him. Mercy…please.

Would I, too, squeal like a pig if I hung in his position?

Tell me what I want to know, and I will gladly grant you the mercy you so badly desire. To be honest, I really don’t enjoy the things my duties force upon me. I hate them. Loathe them. But it’s all I’m good for. I want to end this just as quickly as you. Vitar leaned in and patted Miern on the cheek.

I've already told you everything. My father gave me the book. It has been in our family for generations. I showed it to no one. Under Edara's gaze, I swear it.

Yes, yes, you've said all of this before, and I've told you before that I don't believe you. He bent and placed the burning candle on the floor. He pulled his sword from its sheath in a scream of metal against leather, and held it up for Miern to see. Do you know what this is called?

Miern gulped in fear. It looks like a large dagger.

Vitar smacked Miern across the face with an open hand. I didn't ask for a damned description, I asked if you knew what it was.

Yes, I'm sorry. No, I don't know what it is. Please don't hit me again.

Don't test me and I won't strike you. You hold your own fate in your hands. Does an honest bone still exist within my body? Alas, this is what is known as a sword. There was a time when every man wore one at his waist. This, however, happens to be the last one in existence. I've come to call it Shadow Dancer. I know, it’s a rather ironic name for one that serves the goddess of light, but, you see, she and I have a very difficult relationship. Anyway, the basic principle of the sword is very similar to that of a dagger. You take the sharp end and stab into what you want to die. So, since you refuse to be honest with me about who knows about the book, I'm going to have to kill all of your family, and I think I'll start with your daughter. We can’t allow the information within the book to become a thing of public knowledge, after all. I hope you understand.

Please, no, it's only me. Only I know!

All right, I'll tell you what. I'll bring you the head of each family member, one by one. Until, that is, you tell me what I want to know. How does that sound?

Mercy! Please, Miern wailed and his body slumped, the manacles appearing as if they threatened to tear his arms from their sockets.

I'll return in short time with your daughter's head, Vitar replied as he turned toward the door.

My wife, Miern cried from behind him. My wife, and our neighbors. Ben and Zailey. I swear it, that's all who knows.

Vitar closed his eyes and sighed. So much blood on my hands. Why? With a spin, he paced back toward Miern. He didn't stop until the length of his sword was entirely through the man's gut. I’m sorry it had to come to this, Vitar whispered into his ear.

Vitar slid his blade free, and the drains below drank in Miern's life.

Chapter One

An expectant father stood at the window in his unborn child’s room. Aven let his gaze drift upon the magnificent city of Valour. The last city in the world. He looked out from the small apartment as if he were a king. He stood in front of the window with a hand on each hip and cast his happiness out for all to see.

The sounds of childbirth echoed from down the hall, and he wished his wife didn’t have to endure such pain, but pride still swelled within his heart and spilled onto the city of white. Who would’ve known that I would want so badly to be a father? I now realize that I’ve never wanted anything more.

Aven looked upon the city through new eyes, the eyes of a father, and found a new kind of beauty within its depths. This is a good place to raise a child. It’s a fine city, a safe one. His gaze drifted to the sky and settled upon the interlocking streams of light that formed a protective dome over the city. He looked out at the vibrant forest beyond the dome wall and imagined inhaling the crisp scents that nature had to offer.

Light shot forth from the beacon that rested on the horizon. It was bright enough that Aven had to squint against it as he looked out toward it. The northernmost of the cities four spires had always been one of his favorite views from their apartment. It was a gift from Edara, a looming guardian that promised to keep them safe. A memory began to play within his thoughts. It was one that he had not thought of in quite some time.

He walked beside his father in the square beneath the spire. They had just passed beneath its shadow when he spotted a company of seven priestesses marching as they escorted a couple toward the tower. He and his father were headed home from a day of haggling and the purchasing of new carving equipment. He watched with curiosity as the cortege halted beneath the spire. The woman dropped to her knees and collapsed into a heap of sobs, and it was then that he noticed the man clutched a small bundle within his arms. The woman’s cries had drowned out those of the wailing infant. The man kissed the babe on its forehead and slowly reached his hands out to give his child to the priestess. The father stood motionless as tears rained from his eyes, and his chin trembled while he watched a different priestess raise her arm and sketch something onto the sleek stone of the tower. Thin lines of light emanated from the stone and stretched into the form of a doorway. The outline completed, bright white light poured from the new door. The priestess who held the baby slowly stepped into the white, causing the screams from the mother to amplify, and the streets were flooded with her sorrow as her cries echoed against the white stone walls. All the other would-be onlookers kept their eyes on the ground in front of them. They looked awkward as they worked to keep their gaze away from the couple. Aven shrugged at their odd behavior and refocused on the scene. The priestesses hummed while they moved to form a circle around the couple and closed it off with interlocked hands. Edara’s priestesses began to recite a prayer for the grieving parents. The man knelt and took his wife within his arms, and their bodies shook as one as they sobbed. Their baby was a gift to Edara, and was now one of her Nameless.

Aven was nudged from behind and he shot a questioning look at his father. His father’s lips were slightly pursed and the essence of tears glistened from his eyes. It’s rude to stare, he said.

But why, Father? Why are the man and woman so sad? It’s a great honor to be one of the Nameless Four, Aven said with all the innocence and ignorance of youth.

Yes, my son, it is, but that doesn’t make it any easier for the parents.

I still don’t understand. They should be proud.

His father knelt and placed his hands tenderly on Aven’s shoulders. When a baby enters the tower, it will never again see the outside world. How would you feel if you had just come to possess the most precious thing in the world within your arms, something you loved, a love more intense than you ever dreamed possible, and that something was stripped away from you? How do you think you would feel, son, knowing you would never hold it again? Trust me, the day you become a father will be the day you understand their pain.

You were right, Father. I miss you and Mother deeply. I wish you both could have been here today.

Aven hadn’t thought of that day in quite some time, and now he couldn’t help but feel extreme pity for the couple he had seen that day. It was said to be the highest honor Edara could bestow, but he would not wish it upon anyone. The dread of the testing bloomed in the pit of Aven’s stomach. He knew the chances were slim to none, but he feared it just the same. Edara only chose a new Nameless when one of the other four reached their end.

With a shake of his head, Aven pulled his attention and thoughts from the tower and turned to inspect his latest creation. He ran his fingers along the smooth varnished wood of the crib. He had constructed it of solid oak, and it had taken five years of savings to be able to afford the materials. He ran his calloused fingers over the carvings in the rails, traced out the seven pronged sun of Edara, and scratched away a splinter he had previously missed. He gazed proudly at the roaring lions, the fishing bears, and the soaring eagles. He had mimicked their likenesses from a book his father had given him in his youth. He let his palm glide along the smooth headboard, hoping soon that it would hold a name. I have created some fine work in my years, but nothing finer than this.

A blast of light blossomed from outside of the window and Aven pulled his gaze from the crib. Another pulse shot out from the spire’s apex, and then another. A new baby had been born. I’m a father! Unable to contain himself, he slipped out of the room, cursing as he slammed his knee into the side of the crib, and sped into his bedroom. His wife, Le’Andra, lay on the bed while the midwife worked to get her cleaned. Tears streamed from her beautiful hazel eyes, which were locked onto the softly crying bundle within her arms. Those beautiful eyes lifted to regard Aven and joy so pure poured from within. Le’Andra smiled at her husband and beckoned him in a tired voice, Come say hello to your son.

It’s a boy? Aven said, and realized his hands were trembling. Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?

It’s a boy, my love! He looks just like you.

Aven walked over to his wife and shook with excited nervousness. He felt the world slow as he caught the first glimpse of his baby boy. Le’Andra was right. He does look like me. My sandy hair suits him well. He has his mother’s eyes, but his nose is even slightly curved just like mine. He’s perfect. Le’Andra hoisted the babe up toward Aven, and he accepted the tiny bundle with gentle hands.

As he cradled his son, Aven quickly realized that nothing else in the world mattered. What he had done in the past, his sins, his good deeds, they all meant nothing at this point. The only thing that mattered was the little soul wrapped in white blankets nestled within his arms. He ran a finger along his son’s cheek, rocked him gently, and whispered, I have never been so happy and so complete in my entire life. I make a promise to you here and now, that I will give you the best life that I possibly can. Aven kissed him gently on the forehead and handed him back to Le’Andra.

A knock sounded from the front door, which pulled Aven’s attention out into the hallway. The seed of fear within his stomach sprouted as his eyes locked onto his wife’s. With a nod, she told him many things. She told him she loved him, that she was proud of him, and that everything would be all right. He collected his strength and nodded back. Surely Edara wouldn’t bless him with such a beautiful child only to take him away. Aven left the room and made his way to the living area and opened the front door.

Aven was greeted by a petite woman dressed in a gown of white and gold with a silver seven-pronged star that dangled from a chain around her neck. Aven was surprised to find her golden hair pulled into a bun, as most of the priestesses wore their hair down and unkempt. His eyes traced the words upon the leather-bound book she carried that was titled, Edara’s Wisdom. Hello, my name is Priestess Masol. I’m here to provide the seed of stilling and perform the testing, she said with a warm voice.

Welcome to my home, priestess, Aven said, and gestured for her to enter. Can I offer you any refreshments?

Thank you for the offer, child, but I am quite all right, Masol said offhandedly and gazed around the small apartment. Her attention quickly focused on the full shelf of books in the corner of the room. Dear carpenter, you can read?

Yes, priestess, my father taught me when I was young. One of my fondest sayings of his was, ‘The ability to read and learn is the most important skill a man can possess.’

Wiser words have seldom been spoken, child. Now, if you please, can you direct me toward the baby?

Of course, please follow me, Aven said. He wiped the sweat on his palms against his pants and led the priestess to the bedroom.

The midwife stood as they entered the room, and offered a bow to the priestess. She smiled at Aven. Your wife did very well, sir. Congratulations on the birth of your son. He’s gorgeous. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking my leave.

Aven clasped the elder woman by the shoulders. Thank you for everything. May Edara’s light always guide your path.

Let her light shine upon you always, the midwife replied before leaving the room.

Le’Andra sat up and welcomed the priestess. Thank you for blessing us with your presence here today.

You are quite welcome, child, Masol said as she placed her book on the corner of the bed. She untied a small pouch that was connected to her gold silk belt and withdrew two small green seeds from within, handing one to both Aven and Le’Andra. By law, you are each required to take a seed of stilling after the birth of your first and only child. I present one to each of you. Under the gaze of Edara, please consume them.

The new parents complied, and placed the seeds within their mouths and swallowed. The priestess nodded her satisfaction.

Now, the priestess continued, let us perform the testing on your newborn son. If Edara chooses him with her highest blessing, he will show the Manifestation of Light.

With all my heart, I hope that she doesn’t, Aven blurted, which surprised even himself. He swallowed after seeing his wife’s eyes open wide. Did I really just say that?

The priestess spun on him and stomped her right foot on the floor. Do you dare question our goddess Edara’s wisdom, my dear child of light? You should consider yourself grateful she even saw fit to bless with you with a baby. If she desires your son to serve as one of her Nameless, you would do well to be proud. Such lack of faith is frowned upon by our goddess. You will go the temple to beg her forgiveness when I leave you here today.

He didn’t mean it, priestess, Le’Andra said. He’s only nervous. Please, forgive him.

Masol turned toward Le’Andra. It is Edara’s forgiveness he needs to ask for, but that is of no importance at the moment. If you would, please un-swaddle your son and lay him on the bed.

Le’Andra nodded and withdrew the blankets from around the babe, revealing his tiny naked and pink body. The baby screamed out his protest as the chill caused bumps to spread across his skin. Le’Andra attempted to calm him with soft strokes of her hand through his few wisps of hair.

The priestess approached the bed as she undid another pouch from her belt and withdrew a horse-haired brush along with a vial of white paint. After unfastening the lid to the vial, she dipped the brush into the paint and stood over the frail body as the babe kicked. Edara, I offer this child to you as one of the Nameless. If this is your wish and your bidding, please bring forth the Manifestation of Light. We thank you for your love, your wisdom, and your protection. Upon completing her prayer, Masol painted a symbol on the boy’s chest.

Aven looked down at the symbol. It was one he had never seen before. A semi-circle was formed at the bottom, and above that were three interconnected triangles.

The three waited in an unbearable silence for what seemed like ages, but bless Edara, nothing happened. Is that disappointment on the priestess’s face? Aven fought a very strong urge to jump around the room with excitement, but felt he had received enough lectures for today.

It appears that Edara wishes your son to serve in other ways, Masol said, breaking the silence. Let her light always shine upon your home. Child Aven, you have much to learn if you wish to truly serve the goddess. I suggest you use that skill of reading to study and reacquaint yourself with her teachings.

Priestess, I am simply a father who loves his son, Aven said. I meant no disrespect, but you speak without the knowledge of being a parent. The true blessing today is that we get to raise our son.

I have no doubt that you will make a fine father. Still, you have much to repent for this day, Masol said as she gathered her belongings. Congratulations, Le’Andra, motherhood suits you.

Thank you, priestess, Le’Andra replied.

Masol nodded. You’re very welcome. I’ll leave you to get some rest.

Aven bid Masol farewell as she turned to leave the room. With his nerves calmed, Aven allowed a monumental smile to return upon his face. Finally, we get to choose a name for our son.

A faint glow caught the corner of his eye, and as he turned toward his son, the room exploded into a sea of white that touched and swallowed everything in the small bedroom. The light was so intense it was blinding, and Aven could feel its warmth as it soaked into his bones. Slowly, the light retracted back into the symbol, which still held a faint glow upon his son’s chest. Aven felt a thin line splinter down the middle of his heart. He felt as if was going to vomit, but before he could, his knees began to wobble. They buckled