Candlelit Shadows

Chapter 8

 “Why are you upset, dear? Oh, I see. You feel sorry for the poor big fish. But don’t you see? It is lonely and separated from the others because it will only harm those around it. It’s for its own good as well others’ safety.

      “Look at all the other small fish. Aren’t they pretty? Like colorful flowers fluttering in the water. But if the shark was let anywhere near them, the blue water will only be tainted red. Listen now, I’m not done. Don’t look away. Don’t hate him. Don’t fear him. You have to know, it’s not his fault.

     “Even back then, when Solis was choosing his top Twelve, the shark was the only one to rule across the seven seas. Not even the huge but docile whale dared pick an unnecessary fight. Because unlike the whale, violence was in the shark’s blood, and he relied on it to survive. He wasn’t as smart as the dolphin, or as quick as the barracuda. And he couldn’t stop. Always, constantly on the move, waving those ominous fins. Because the moment he stops, or slows down for a break, he’s a sitting dove. And even if no one attacks him in his embarrassing moment of weakness, he will only sink to the seabed like a rock and be taunted by the hollowed bones of the sailors sunk there.

      “Thus when worst came to worst, his bloodlust was all he could rely on to make even a little sense of this crazy world. Nothing else did. And there was no longer anyone around to help him understand.

      “So he lived a life of involuntary solitude, perhaps not so unlike the wolf so far away. Bitterness and resentment became his second nature, and soon he could not be satisfied with just killing his enemies and prey. No, when the offer of power was given to him, he chose instead to condemn all whose blood was on his soul to eternity in an agonizing limbo, forever hovering between life and death. The reason was obvious. What he couldn’t have, he destroyed. Beyond anyone else’s slimy grasp.

      “But in his moment of wrath, he forgot one crucial fact—unlike other, smarter sea-creatures, by doing so meant he could never reach land. And instead of remorse and repentance as Lord Solis had meant for him, he took his rage at his stupidity, and killed all that dwelled in the sea around him. So by the time he had slaughtered everyone in his underwater territory, there was nothing more to do but die slowly of starvation, alone in a sea of blood.”

*

New moon night. A crowd had gathered in the Grand Hall, and the ceiling had mysteriously opened into the night sky. Blue flames burned on white candlelight, people chanted, and people prayed.

      Cera felt sick.

      They were chanting now, a thousand different voices mashed into one angelic harmony, yet bordering on demonic when you listened to the lyrics. Three thrones remained empty in the circle; Lord Aves had decided to grace them with his presence, finally. But glancing over to where he sat listlessly on his throne, she knew he regretted it now. And yet, even though his face remained shadowed under his hood, every now and then Cera would feel a chill run down her spine as he turned the full power of his gaze onto her, studying her, passing his own judgment, doubtless…

      And still the chorus rang on.

Our blood, flowing rich in our veins, we dedicate to our Creator.

Our flesh, once His own, we return to our Creator.

Our powers, gifts from our Creator, are His for the taking.

And our souls, once and forever His, we shall sacrifice in anticipation of His return!

One of the followers at the feet of Cera’s throne murmured a few praises to Lady Aranae. So, it was she who had penned this particular verse. The song was quickly picked up by the crowd, growing louder and louder, rising like a concerto.