Chapter I: The Scour

In the distant valley, obscured by long, twisting shadows, a father and his child walked along the shore of a dead ocean.

They watched the ground that the ocean had once covered with curious expressions. Strange. An ocean disappearing out of sight for no reason? Impossible. Yet, there it was. Or, wasn't. The ocean had just disappeared, leaving many dead things in its wake. The boy understood these things to be wildlife of a dangerous sort. This ocean was of death and despair, it's only inhabitants being predators. Once, they may have looked deadly in those deep, ink black waters. On land, under the baking suns, they looked… sad. Shriveled and dying, these creatures no longer had a home. The water had sustained them, gave them life, and now it was gone.

This event was called The Final Drain.

It marked the end of mankind.

…

I wore red the day of the funeral. Our Family's colors. Appropriate, for such a tragic loss. Grandfather had always held to the old ways with the fervor of a true believer. I imagined that he might smile when looking up towards me from the Havencore. At least he left one scholar in his wake. One person who cared.

The others didn't.

Father walked towards the lone grave atop the small hill. Oh sure, he shed a few tears, but I knew what worth they held. A face for the Family. To know that he truly cared for his dear father. For our Grandfather. It sickened me. Father reached into his overcoat pocket for a scroll. One last goodbye, as was traditional.

"My dearest Family," he read, sobbing almost as if he was actually grieving. "I write this will as a young man, for I know that my future may be clouded by sickness and delirium. I hope that you understand, for I know this is against tradition. But, I needed to have a clear and able mind for this task. My mantle as patriarch will be passed to one of the three–" He stopped crying and paused, his eyes scanning whatever he was meant to read next again.

Then, through gritted teeth he continued: "three bumbling idiot fools who I am ashamed to call my sons. However, tradition is tradition, so I will choose the best of them. The three of you, if you are still alive, step forth."

I held back the sudden urge to laugh as my two uncles made their way to the front of the small crowd. Our Familywas smaller than the big ones, like the Ulains and the Cinds, but we were still quite big. Totalling some two thousand members, with thirty in attendance that day, we dominated the region without competition. Now, that might change. Our Patriach is dead. This grim reminder put me in a sour mood once again, much like the rest of the crowd. Most of the attendants didn't like my grandfather all that much. They especially hated his constant belittlement of them, which, if taken by itself, may have been understandable. However, with added context, many might've been inclined to agree with my grandfather's malice.

The sky grew darker as a large beast blotted the suns. The Malaketh. Great God. King of Man. Such names were given to this overgrown worm in the sky. I paid it no attention, focusing on the precession. Grandfather would have been honored to receive a visit from his holiness. A voice in my head pleaded. Grandfather is dead, I replied. The sooner I accept that, the better.

The air turned cold. Then, the violet rain came. The blood of the Great God. Apparently, he or she bled all the time, casting pellets of purple raindrops down unto the earth. Most believers, like Grandfather, thought it to be a blessing. They collected the blood rain and drank from it to gain vitality and strength. I knew that to be nonsense. But, my Family still looked up reverently at our God.

My uncles came forward. Kallin, The Immortal. Scio, The Warrior. My grandfather's attendant also came forth with Grandfather's evaluation. . Reluctantly, my father stepped away from the grave, casting a hateful gaze over his two brothers. Father, Arrid, The Reckoner.

The three minor lords stood next to each other, awaiting the attendant's response.

"Firstly, I am inclined to divulge my misgivings with the three of you," he began, reading off of his own paper. "This is done, not to have one last laugh beyond the grave–although that might be well worth it on its own. But, regardless, this is done so that the family may understand the flaws of whoever I choose and so that they may watch for them. I will also determine the succession line, if one of you were to fall.

"Starting with Arrid, please step forward." My father, though no doubt internally smug, put up a stone-cold face. He was the eldest and he lorded that fact over his other siblings. Petty.

"My eldest. You have done surprisingly well in the past few years. However, your personality is abhorrent–"

"As if yours wasn't, old man," Kallin said, loud enough for everyone to hear. The attendant glared at him, but continued on.

"Abhorrent. You do not inspire men through your charm or charisma. You are a good leader, in theory. But, a failure in practice. Scio, please step forth."

Father's cheek reddened as he turned around and went back in line with his brothers. Scio smiled at his wrath. Being the youngest of the brothers, he and Father often clashed heads. He took great pleasure in father's failings.

"Scio, my youngest. You have won a great many battles for our family. For that, I commend you. You are better than your brother in the fact that your men respect and follow you. But, you are not a leader. You are a brute. A man only fit for the blade and nothing else. You are ignorant of true politicking and your emotions rule you."

As if to prove Grandfather's point, Scio stepped forward and nearly drew his sword on the attendant. However, one blank stare from the attendant made him withdraw. In the years since Grandfather had written this, it seemed that Scio managed to hold his rage back. However, I suspected that Scio only withdrew because of the knowledge that this attendant did not write these words– and after all, you couldn't attack the decedent.

"Kallin, step forth."

He did so without a care in the world, hands held behind his back and whistling a tune to a vile song. Kallin wore black trousers and an old, faded trench coat. He wasn't dressed appropriately in the slightest, but nobody really cared. They expected this of him.

"Kallin. I used to favor you the most. You gave me such pride and joy. An Immortal. Born into my family? And the things you once accomplished. Yet, you became such a vile wretch. You are useless to this family now. You are only given a place here because of your past achievements, which have faded in my eyes. No one loves you. No one cares for you."

"Well, damn you too. Rotten old bastard. You're better off in the ground than here," Kallin replied, spiteful as ever. The attendant didn't give him an appraising look this time. Perhaps he felt bad for him. I certainly did. The man might've been the best of us, had he not descended down that hole.

"Bael. Step forth."

What?

I looked around, confused. Suddenly, everyone's eyes turned to me. Like snakes, this lot. Arrogant bastards.

"Bael," the attendant said, eyeing me. "Step forward."

I did as I was asked, taking long limbering steps towards him. I cursed my looks at this moment. I had always looked chubby, ever since childbirth. Being the fourth born of my father, no one really paid attention to what I did. Nor what I ate. So, I developed some nasty eating habits when I was young, and there I was, the youngest and most obesce of the men in line.

Scio laughed. "Him? Why call him huh? I guess grandfather must've had to address your failure of a son, Arrid."

Father looked embarrassed, shying his dark yellow eyes away from me.

I scowled.

The attendant read.

"Bael, my favorite grandson," he began, causing Scio to stop laughing and start glaring. Kallin on the other hand, didn't even look my way. He just yawned, already bored of the precession. "I have loved your developing mind like no other. You have shown me great things. Oh, my grandson, how I wish you were born my son. Unfortunately, however, despite many nights' consideration, I have determined that you are not fit for rule yet."

Whispers pervaded amongst the Family crowd. Father's eyes widened. Not at the fact that my Grandfather seemingly declined my readiness for rule, but at the fact that he even considered it. My relationship with Grandfather was secretive, yes. And cherished. Oh so cherished. Yet, even I didn't expect him to consider me for taking the mantle of Patriarch. Such a thing amongst the Families of Rilleck was unheard of… a mantle going to the Grandson rather than the direct descendants.

"You have not experienced the world. You are not yet a man. You are just a boy. A smart boy, albeit, but just a boy," the attendant said, pausing for a moment afterwards. He looked forward to the four of us. "All of you, step forward. I will now read his decision."

We did as he asked, and I got to see my father's surprised face. He never expected Grandfather to name me as a candidate. I could see how it ate away at him. Grandfather spoke of me the most favorable out of all of us. But, I knew what the order of succession was going to be. Father had nothing to worry about.

"Arrid and Scio. I name both of you co-Patriarchs of the family. I know this is unprecedented and untraditional, but I believe that neither of you on your own can lead. Arrid will henceforth take control of all diplomatic proceedings. Scio, will be given control of the army and workforce as a whole. However, I implore both of you to counsel each other, despite how much you may despise each other. Should either of you die, the entire Patriarchy goes to Bael. This is to ensure that neither of you conspire to kill each other in hopes of gaining some power.

"As for Kallin, do us all a favor, and find a way to kill yourself. It would please me greatly. This is my will. This is my creed. Remember me all, as the savior and greatest Patriarch of this Family. Know that there will be dark days ahead of us."

The attendant stopped reading, putting the paper back in his suit coat pocket. Smiling with a downcast expression, he sighed and stepped forward. My grandfather's body lay still as I contemplated what had just transpired. The Rapture began once the torch that his dead arms held to his chest went aflame. Green fire. Death fire.

Rapture fire.

The Family remained silent, though no doubt many were confused or seething with rage. Or both. Be mad you bastards. Be mad that he considered me a fit for the mantle. Not you. It was a petty thought. But, one I indulged.

A limb from the sky came down slowly. A limb of the Great God. It looked vile; a twist of flesh and violet blood that constantly wept from its slits across the arm. Like a giant fleshy tree trunk coming down from the sky with a human hand at its end. It grabbed onto the body of Grandfather and it pulled him upwards. Thus, the Rapture and the funeral concluded.

Thus, I stepped into a new life.

…

I tossed the ball into the air reflecting on the past few days. Since the funeral, Arrid and Scio had taken full control of the Family, without any complaints from the others. It saddened me slightly to see Kallin cast away so easily, but he did it to himself really. His attitude over the years really spoke of his capacity to lead, or more specifically, his lack thereof. I grimaced at the thought of what might become of me in the next few days. With my line of succession being so favorable, I expected to receive bribes and whatnot from other Family members. But, no such thing had come yet.

What were you expecting? You are a fat loser who just sits around all day reading books and dreaming of better things?

Who would want to see you? In fact, who would even want to give you anything?

Shuddering at the thought, I snatched the ball out of the air and set it down on my side table. Stretching my arms out, I looked to the ceiling while standing. A number of lines were drawn into the stone, filled to the brim with glowsilk. Golden light spilled into my room from that silk, illuminating my work desk. Our Family, at least the direct descendants and others of note, lived in the main house that centered the village.

It was large. However, it wasn't a palace. It resembled a complex or weapons barrack, with its square architecture and lack of embellishments. However, its interior was filled with many rooms for its many inhabitants.

My room was relatively small, compared to the rest. Stone walled, drab in color and aesthetic, and smelling of books, it certainly looked like a scholar's room. Perhaps the Ulains would've liked a scholar in their Family, but us? No. Nobody cared. All the Carstairs want is to keep their damn pit. Their greedy mine. For that, they only needed labor men, war men, and politicking men. No need for scholars who studied the arts or history. Such things were not "practical." Such things were a waste.

A knock came on the door. I barely heard it the first time—too engrossed with my own brooding. The second time, I went to open the door.

Mother stood there.

And yet she didn't.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes and opening them once again.

The illusion faded.

The attendant took its place.

"Bael. Are you all right?" he asked. I nodded and opened the door fully, allowing him to come in. Grandfather's attendant, a bald man in humble gray robes, was a guest at the Carstairs house. Apparently, he had been Grandfather's religious counselor before his death, only becoming his attendant posthumously.

"What can I do for you, oh Pure One?"

He walked around my room, not answering my question. Instead, he inspected the desk—the cleanest and most organized thing in the room. Stacks of books and binders filled its compartments, with my current read displayed at its top. The Isho Age, by Lox Firo. An odd name that I suspected to be an alias.

"You must be quite learned," he finally said. I waited for something more, like a reason as to why he was visiting.

"I do a bit of reading here and there," I said, closing the door behind me. As soon as I did so, the attendant looked directly at me with his bright blue eyes.

"Your Grandfather wanted to give you two final messages post-funeral. I am to deliver one right now. This is for your ears only. It would be… unwise to tell this to anyone else. Do you understand?"

I nodded. He continued by pulling out a sheet of parchment and reading.

"My Grandson. Be strong."

I blinked. Once. Twice. He didn't continue reading.

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"Can… can I get the second message—"

"Nope."

"May I ask why?"

"I am not meant to give it to you until a certain situation arises."

"May I ask what situation?"

"Oh you may ask away. I just won't answer," he said, giving a hint of a smile.

I clicked my tongue and scratched my head. "Why tell me this? What did he think was going to happen to me?"

The attendant shrugged and gestured to the door.

Sighing, I let him out and closed it behind me. Be strong. What in Malaketh's name did he mean by that? Physically strong? Mentally? I don't understand.

I continued to not understand.

And the days passed by.

…

Eventually, I was called to eat at the Family dinner, with all of our members. This was expected. Family dinners were usually veils for business deals and politicking amongst the house. I'm sure that Father and Uncle Scio are using this one to secure their hold on the Family. Co-Patriachs. I smiled, reading the invitation. What a mess. I'm sure its going to be dreadful.

I dressed in red again, this time wearing a sleeker more form fitting uniform. I had lost some fat since the funeral, but I was sure that was just temporary. It always went up and down in small increments, usually staying around just the right amount to make me look obesce and unseemly.

Maybe I should just work in the fields. That would build strength right? Be strong. I still don't know what that means.

While pondering this, I headed downstairs to the main dining room. Only, I found the entire place to be empty.

"Was it a joke?" I asked no one in particular. Then, someone tapped my shoulder.

I turned to see a woman standing behind me. She was beautiful. She wore a blue dress that flowed like water tunnels in the sky and her eyes were near golden.

"Bael? I am to be your escort tonight. If you would follow me?"

Despite all the things I should've been worrying about, despite all of the signs that this could just be another attempt at a bribe or a trap, the fact that she looked at me without hate or malice provided me with a great deal of happiness. She offered me her arm and wrapped it around mine as we began to walk.

Perhaps this night won't be so dreadful.