Last time on Sunblighted:
Tev brings Lih and Gefrol to an inn, suspicion hanging in the air.
Despite the distrust, Gefrol leaves Lih in Tev’s care, as a test, while he explores the village, reflecting on his own lack of humanity.
As Gefrol meets an old priest at the dilapidated temple at the bottom of town, Lih wakes up, and Tev’s test begins.
I pull the chair across from the girl and sit down. She sits as well, her left hand staying behind her back as she shifts in her chair. Her purple eyes reflect the room’s candle-lit orange hue, shifting around the shadowy corners of the room. At my seat is a wooden plate of fresh bread rolls and cheese, with a blunt knife leaning on the plate’s edge. A pitcher of water sits in the center. I feel my mouth begin to drool. It has been ages since I had a proper meal, even longer since I had it with another—
“You look like the last meal you had was your own feces.” Blunter than the knife on the table, her language breaks me from my trance. I glare daggers at the girl, and she returns the stare with … a look of pity? I wipe my mouth and sit up straight. How far I have fallen from my pure intentions, I think, trying to present myself as the lone warrior I have been for so many—
“Eat. Now.” She commands.
I follow her orders. Ravenously biting into the roll, my teeth cut through its soft flesh, drying my tongue but filling my mouth with its rough texture and an invigorating warmth. I grab for the pitcher and pour its contents into an empty tankard, guzzling the cold beverage, letting it wash over my parched throat from days of having barely enough to chew to get myself salivating. I bite into the block of cheese, and its richness is indescribable. It is nothing like the cheeses of the weak cows bred on small patches of grass and rations of pooled cave water.
Looking over to Tev attracts those wild stares with the violet pits that are her eyes. Her lips are pursed, and her cheeks and slightly more boney, like she is sucking on the inside of her mouth. The look makes me feel uncomfortable, the curiosity leaking from her soul through her dark purple eyes. But I am too hungry to care how she sees me. I go to grab another roll and finish my plate.
I feel the energy of the food flowing through my body, like many threads of rainfall as it travels through the forest, looking to give its strength to the world around it. “That is my goal.” I say out loud suddenly, before hushing my voice to mere thoughts. The Sunblighted shall face the retribution he deserves for causing this world to crumble at the hands of—
“You can talk now, perfect.” The girl interrupts, taking a scroll of paper parchment from behind her back and rolling it out in front of her. With her other hand she reaches inside her cloak and pulls out a vial of black ink and feather, white as snow. She sets them on the table with a tunk, and turns her attention back to me. “My name is Tev, and as you have taken respite and a meal in my family’s inn, it is nothing but fair that you answer a few of my—”
“Why do you look like Canthi?” I cannot hold myself back, too many details are lining up—Stop asking questions!
As the words spill from my lips and my thoughts fight with each other, my words halt hers for just a moment. She muses on her thoughts for a moment, her eyes shifting down to her scroll and up to my expression. “Can and Thi, they are, let us say, my progenitors, in more ways than one.”
“How so?” She has her eyes, but why does she call her like she is two people—You have a mission to complete!
Tev reaches from behind her head and pulls the hood of her habit over her face, bowing to show the top of it. A thin black thread traces the shape of—
“A crescent,” I realize, as flashes of memories I once could not understand begin to have meaning. Sulumim never wanted to be a woodworker, I think, tears building up in my eyes. He wished he could weave tapestries like the ones that filled the temples of neighboring villages. “It was on the handkerchief that I—” No, not me. I feel my lips quiver, but I swallow my breath, blink, and continue. “That Sulumim,” Tev takes a sharp inhale, “made for Canthi, for him to be remembered by.” She furrows her brow for a moment, then speaks slowly, like every detail is more important than the last.
“Sul-Um-Im’s Blessing,” she says, emphasizing each syllable as she sits back down and lowers her hood. “It must be the same.” She looks up to me with glare and spite, but a shine comes from her eyes as well. “There is a record of the founding of this village, in tandem with the founding of Sul-Um-Im’s Blessing, a long decayed religion.” A faraway look invades her eyes as she stares into the fireplace. “There is a recitation of the legend, but only portions have been recovered and translated.” She shakes her head, snapping herself out of the somber spell. “This scroll is a recreation of a portion I was analyzing before you two appeared at the eternal bonfire.” I look down at the scroll, noticing its browned worn edges and smears of black ink making words.
How much has changed since I began my journey, I think, glancing over to the fireplace, my spear and sickle leaning against its stone foundation.
“It recounts the story of priestly siblings, sister Can and brother Thi, who were used as sacrifices to ward off a Demon of Darkness so as to spare the village just one more day from its inevitable demise,” she says, holding the feather to the page, following its lines of ancient text. “And just as they were about to be killed by the Demon that haunted the woods—not unlike the Shades of today—three powerful men with glowing golden eyes showed up, and defeated the Demon in combat.
“One, named Sul, was courageous and humble. He used a spear made of iron blessed by the morning starlight to strike and stab at his foes. The second, called Um, was clever and quiet. He used a sickle he had from his farming days, before the ground turned brittle and unsalvageable. The third, Im, was powerful and empathetic. He used his strength to protect the weak with his massive body.
“When the Demon was defeated by spear, sickle, and strength, the siblings invoked the words of the God of the Winds of Change, creating an eternal bonfire to protect our home. No man can approach the bonfire, though, not without possessing the trust of a God. But they had deemed these men fit for that blessing.
“And then they gave the words of the Gods to each of the warriors for safe keeping, so as to keep this power within those the Gods trust. They then went in three separate directions—one to the west, one to the east, and one to the south—so as to use these words and powers for good and to save us from this blight of shadows, to bring back the pieces of nature that were once considered myths at the time of this legend’s founding: something known as The Sun.”
Wood creaks from above and muffled conversations begin to spread outside the walls of the inn. I take a breath. She, Tev, looks up from her scroll, eyes wet with tears. Eyes wet with hope. Creased with fear like Sulumim’s before he burned the shed down. Bright like Canthi’s when she knew her brother would always be there to protect her. She opens her mouth, gaping, clawing for breath, before finding her voice beginning to say the words I fear the most:
“Please, it is only the two of us now, and he is old. Fading like my hope.” She grips the table like it will leave her as well. “Fight for us! Please—”
I blink, and my vision changes. Like in a dream, I am atop the clouds with those majestic silver spears, once bright with luster, now dulled and crumbling. They surround me entirely, threatening to chew me like metal teeth and swallow me whole. I stare at that sole cracked pillar, now leaking a fiery determination, pulsing with a fading hope, going cold, going dark. Suddenly it becomes so bright that I blink—
A coal pops in the fireplace as Tev throws her arms across the table, grabbing my hands, tears escaping those long-guarded purple eyes. I can only think of how much they look like Canthi’s, how lonely they are, and that decaying silver pillar.
“Save us, sir, please. You must be one of the foretold Sul-Um-Im’s Vessels, one who will be a blight to the Shades and a blessing to the world.”
My posture goes rigid at her last words. Do not say it. Please. You cannot know what I know. Please. Let me find this false savior. Let me finish my quest and save you from this lie you live. Please. I cannot carry the world.
“Save us, Sunblighted.”
End of Chapter 8
Author’s Note: We’re at 10k words! That’s so many! And with so many words, maybe things are starting to become clearer now, right? Or maybe … even more mysterious (≧▽≦)!! Well, the puzzle is all available to you to read. Catch up on previous chapters, all available on the “Tales from the Empty Notebook” page at brandeishoot.com/author/mgmail-com/. See you next time for a very foolish chapter, where my editor will actively make the chapter worse, before returning to the usual with part two’s conclusion.
See you next time!
-T.E.N.
