The Revelation of the Vine: Graft

Chapter 5: The Lamentation of Sol

The 12-man squads formed up and more chatter filled the air than at breakfast, now that the Seeds began to make inquiries. Their questions, however, were quickly repelled by the Knights deflecting statements of, "We can t say," and, "You'll find out."

Murmurs began to rise among the groups of Seeds, as they turned from their pleading inquisition of the Knights and walked outside the circle of wagons toward the Cliff. I heard scattered gasps and wows as the Seeds crept up to the edge and peered over into the mist 5 miles down. "Captain," one of the Knights said as he ran up to me, "Captain, may I speak?" "What s on your mind, Kivan," I asked the man. He seemed on edge about something. His dark-green eyes sparkled and his pupils reflected the white landscape around us. A thick layer of ruff stubble covered his face and neck, and thin black hair fell out from under his helmet. "I just want you to know," he said, rubbing his hands with anxiety, "It has been an honor serving with you these past 200 years." "Likewise, Sergeant," I responded, raising an eyebrow, "What s this about, Kivan? You look worried about something." "No-nothing, really, sir" he said quickly, "just, you know, the whole Rest thing has me spooked, right. Aren't you worried, sir?" "A little," I said, and put a hand on his shoulder. That seemed to surprise him. "A lot at first, actually, but if the Mender decided not to speak with us this Rest, then I m sure that he did so for a reason. Just don t let it distract you from what we have to do now." "Yes, sir," he said. "Thank you, sir. And again, it s been an honor." "Time to get going, Sergeant," I reminded him, "We've got plenty of time for chatter back at the Crown." "Yes sir," he repeated, and then turned to return to the squad. I walked over to Jurgen who had been standing behind Kivan, waiting between the northern wagons, and watching with his arms crossed over his chest. "Did you find out what s up with him," Jurgen asked. "He seemed a little strange, but shouldn't he?" I replied. "He s only been acting strange since we discussed the forgotten Rest this morning," he glanced over his shoulder. "I don t know why, but he looked surprised as a shadow when the others and I mentioned it. Almost like he had no idea what we were talking about. You think he remembers something and isn't telling anyone? " "Why would he lie about it?" I asked. "I don t know," Jurgen replied, shaking his head. "Maybe I m reading too much into nothing, maybe he reacted so strangely because he thought it only happened to him. Anyway, come on. Let s get this show on the road." Then he opened his arms and pulled me in for a big bear hug, "See you down below, V." He smelled like metal and old pine needles. "Just another Sowing day, J," I said, but something in the back of my head told me this was anything but. "On my count: 3 . . . 2 . . . 1." "The only way up is down," We shouted together, harmonizing the words like a trumpet blast, as we backed away from each other an arm s length. The sound waves of our shouts collided and then flattened, widening into a disc of rippling energy between us that expanded in all directions, and created a thick line between us in the snow, before fading into the air. A soft rumble began to shake the Cliff and the ground all around us, making the horses rear-up in fright. The snow began to melt into a pattern around our feet, as a blue glow rose up from beneath the permafrost in the shape of an infinity symbol, swirling around us with blue-white light. Then a duo of loud screeches, followed by long grinding sounds came from just a short distance to the north near the Cliff, where air could be seen rising up from the ground. Jurgen and I stood between the two northern wagons, as the Seeds turned from the sight of the Cliff and gawked at the doors that had slid open in the ground. We each grabbed a medium-sized pack-roll filled with provisions and seven long-swords from the wagons. The hilts of the swords stuck up from the center of the roll, sparkling and casting beams of reflected light onto the snow. I headed toward my group that was huddled around the eastern door, and Jurgen went to his near the western. The doors of the tunnels below were large, and rectangular, cutting into the ground just short of the ledge of the cliff. A long stairway descended down into the tunnel toward the south, away from the rock-face. I reached the front of the door and my group, and then dropped the pack-roll on the ground in front of the first step. Kneeling down, I untied the roll and pushed it to the right, exposing its contents as it rolled open: 7 long-swords, 3 lanterns, a good-sized container of oil, and a few tools. Inside the lining were several logs of firewood--wrapped in thick leathers to keep dry. "Seeds," I yelled, and the group formed a line in front of me. "Grab a weapon. They re nothing special, but we can t have you down there unarmed." Each of them reached down and picked up a weapon, admiring it as they lifted it into the air. "Good health and long life, brave ones. Keep us all safe from the Soulless, you will," A rarely heard voice shouted from the caravan, high pitched and scratchy. "Tell me grandson I said Hello, when he comes to pick you up in 50 years." He let out a wheezy laugh. It was a sign that he d stopped drinking the tea that was made from the leaves we brought every 50 years, and was ready to return to the Vine. The caravan driver s scraggly head was poking out from behind the northeastern wagon, and smiled a near toothless grin. Ratty strands of grey hair fell from the sides of his head around a bowl of baldness on the top. A thick, wolf skin shawl was bundled around his neck up to his chin, and draped down over his shoulders, hanging just above his knees. He walked around to each wagon, ensuring that each one was hitched to the one in front and every horse was harnessed securely. Then he hopped up onto the southwestern wagon and rubbed his hands together, preparing his elderly body to begin the long journey back to Lastbreath. The man yelled for the horses to start pulling, and the wagons, starting with his own, began moving forward; uncoiling into a straight line like a serpent. A soft haze of snow kicked up from the ground, as the caravan began to muster. Within a few minutes the dust and snow had settled, and the last wagon had pulled away, leaving behind a fading trail of wheel lines and hoof prints in the snow. The caravan slowly began to disappear into the white, foggy distance. A light blizzard of snowy winds began to pick up and the sunlight grew dim, as I watched Jurgen follow the last of his squad down into their tunnel. "Time to move, everyone," I yelled over swirling gusts of icy wind that began to increase in strength. I grabbed the right edge of the pack roll and folded it over twice, then pushed it to the left, letting it roll itself up. I tied it off and swung it over my shoulder, as the sound of Jurgen s door closing screeched through the air. I handed one of the lanterns I unpacked to Falkir, and another to Kivan who took it shakily. I took the third, and then looked at the whole group. "Follow me in lines of 3. Falkir, you re behind me. Tenbu and Vhalrin next to him. Everyone else, fall in behind them. Kivan, you re in--." A thunderous boom ended my orders. It roared across the sky, echoing all around us. The earth shook violently as it rolled overhead. Piles of loose snow fell over the edges of the door, covering the steps in powdery snow. My eyes shot upward, with mouth agape, and I stared into the sky, as a vortex of swirling flames appeared in a section to the north and began to spread across the heavens. I became entranced by the dancing, dark-red fire that slowly devoured the atmosphere. It sucked inwards and bulged outwards, bubbling and boiling like the inside of a giant stomach trying to digest the entire world. The temperature began to rise, and the snowy winds that whipped around us from the outer bands of the Rime-storm turned into hail and then sleet and then a heavy rain. The crunchy snow beneath our feet softened quickly in the hard downpour, as we sank through to the melting permafrost below. "What is it!?" came cries from the squad, almost inaudible under the sounds of the roaring in the sky and the howl of the intensifying winds. "What s happening?!" others yelled. "Is this part of the Sowing?" some questioned. No, my mind jumped to answer the question. This is definitely not a part of it. This is something far worse. Suddenly, as if the flames were preparing the way for the entrance of their king, a large bubble of fire began to bulge toward the ground. It threatened to come down and swallow the land in its destructive blaze, before bursting in a flash of sweltering heat. Loose flames lapped through the air, dancing like hungry dragons, before they rose back up and were absorbed into the mass of flames. A small opening in the fiery sky remained. "That doesn't look good!" a voice screamed. The sick feeling in my stomach agreed with him. It looked like a tunnel. The flames surged forward as if being pushed by a celestial wind blowing from above. Another boom, twice as loud as the first, then, the funneling hole in the sky began to widen, as the flames that made up its circumference swelled out like curling waves. A bright ball of rolling fire came hurtling through, and ripped across the sky, as it streaked down to rain hellish fury upon the world. It disappeared behind the mountains in the northwest, leaving a trail of smoke and heat floating through the air. A strong wake of hot wind and water blew past us, sending streams of slushy snow water down the stairs and sides of the hole. Blinding, white-hot light flashed across the sky, turning the mountains into pitch black silhouettes that looked like the jagged teeth of a hideous beast. The final boom shook the earth more than anything I d ever felt, and we all fell over into the slushy snow. A plume of flames roared into the sky to the northwest rising like a long, slender dragon into the burning mass above. Up and up and up it rose for what seemed like forever, as we lay there staring above the mountains that divided the world from the most ancient of the All-flesh that had been trapped in the Rime from its creation. Once the last wisp of flames had been sucked into the heavenly inferno, a tidal wave of surging, icy water began to crest the mountains, rising higher and higher. I watched in horror as it began to curl over the peaks awaiting the moment when it all came crashing down and washed away everything in its path.