A Prelude to Risen
[SPOILERS] The Primordial Drama and then the explanation
Prelude – The Primordial Drama
Wrapped in a white gown, the girl lies on the ground. Her face, smeared with splotches of pink, light blue, and light red, is twisted at an unnatural forty-five-degree angle while her head rests on a large rock. A dap of red shows on her neck. Meanwhile, her spotless white dress covers her body down to the ankles. Its stillness gives off the effect of rigor mortis.
Three individuals then walk up to the corpse. The two males and the sole female have white-feathered wings, which clash with their black robes, where their arms should be. While the corpse has color on her face, the faces of these three entities are covered in splotches of peach, black, white, red, blue, and yellow. None of the faces’ color patterns are the same. Upon reaching the dead body, all three begin fanning their wings over the girl.
“Shame! Shame!” Their chant’s unison creates an echo effect. “Shame! Shame!” They lower themselves to their knees. “Shame! Shame!”
The male on the right gives off a mournful cry. “The children of Awan are wicked! They have killed our pure Gelsi! Her crime was being beautiful like us! Shame! Shame!” He then stands up and spreads his wings wide.
On the left, the male wails. “How many children and grandchildren must we bury? Let us set forth and destroy these wicked evildoers! Shame! Shame!” Once his words are said, like the first male, he stands up and spreads his wings.
“No!” As she yells, the female puffs out her chest, revealing her slight but noticeable womb. “Vengeance is for the divine alone to seek! Our cries to the divine will be answered! That is enough! Our children are hated because of their beauty. When the children of Awan lusts are not satisfied with despoiling the children of Azura, they come for ours who are too pure for them.” Unlike the others, she remains seated.
“Shame! Shame!” The two winged males call out.
“Come, let us take all our children away from here. Let the divine spill out justice. We will take our children to safety where they may grow. Now, I summon my daughters!”
Seven women, all wearing white tunics, approach. Each of them holds a lamp.
The winged female lifts her left wing straight up. “Children, who will follow me if I lead you into skies of darkness?”
A white-tunic woman steps forward. “I, Simbar, the first amongst your daughters and wisest, trusted by you to advise them, will lead your daughters and follow you beyond the horizons, through mountains, deserts, and wild lands, even to the endless sea. But to the skies of darkness, I do not wish to go.”
Still holding her wing in the air, the winged female says, “It is not enough!”
As the winged woman finishes her exclamation, another one of the daughters grabs Simbar and slams her to the ground. Simbar’s lamp rattles as it bounces up and down until coming to a rest.
The assaulting daughter turns to face her siblings. “Shame! Shame! Our mother who watches us has the word of the law! Where she commands shall we go!”
“Ah,” says the winged woman, “Paricheher, you are now first amongst my daughters and wisest; I trust you to advise them. So you shall lead them as you follow me into the skies of darkness. Forever you will be the first amongst my daughters so long as you follow the laws I have taught you and follow my commands. The price of this is blood.” Only now does the winged woman lower her wing.
The other sisters raise their lamps to Paricheher. Then, one by one, they prostrate themselves before the winged female. Paricheher remains standing.
“Mother,” Paricheher says, “what shall happen to Simbarhaz and those who camped with Simbar? Shall I command one of my kin to marry him?”
“Her sin echoes in her blood. Therefore, let him and her children have the same fate as the wicked, which the divine surely shall take! But take those not of her blood, even those who have had children with the children of Azura. For one drop of the blood of those who watch you with love is enough!”
The prostrating sisters in unison acclaim, “The command is justice! There is justice in the command!”
The winged female looks Paricheher in the eyes before scanning back to face forward. She then stops. Miniscule twitches occur at the corners of her lip. Her eyes lock on their intended target. Next, she takes a deep breath before getting up.
Exhaling, she expands her arms not in the manner of a bird taking flight but as a mother opening up for an embrace. A soft tune streams forth from her lips. It is wordless, but to any listener who closes his eyes, it would draw an image like a field of colorful wildflowers opening to the dawn sun.
The winged woman’s brown eyes remain locked on the target as she finishes her aria. Next, she stretches her wings toward the thing she is staring at.
“Come,” she says, “come away from all your troubles, my loves, and fly under my wings to a land beyond the darkness of the sky. We have set it aside for you; it is a land where no others may harass you. There you will be free to learn from us, to forget these horrible lands. There I will love your children and their children forever. And forever you shall be blessed.”
All is silent until Simbar’s rising acts as the cue for the riotous noise to begin. Cheers and clapping make a deafening sound. The roar reaches a fever pitch when the winged woman throws off her wings and removes the pillow under her stomach. Everyone laughs as she takes it and bonks the top of the head of Zalta who was playing Gelsi, who plays dead once again. Several men in the back begin to chant Berina’s name, causing her to take a bow and toss them the pillow.
From his cushion seat in the front row, Brendan remains motionless. The last two hours have been the Sabia’s tale, as they remembered it from prehistoric Earth. As violent and demanding as the Old Testament, yet- well- alien simultaneously. How much of it is taken literally at the top levels? Any Sabia should feel justified killing all humans if they thought the drama was a historic play-by-play, so why are they so helpful to Earth’s various governments? I bet the State Department kiddos hanging out in their rooms after curfew would have killed to see this.
His head is forced ninety degrees to his right. A wet smooch from Esfirs plants on his lips. Slowly, she pulls away. Brendan can feel her create a Bond.
“Was that not wonderful, -she? The work they have put into the costumes was exquisite!”
He nods in reply. He shifts his focus to his wife’s now protruding belly.
“She is asleep,” his pregnant spouse says. Her hands rub her bump. “Let us talk about the play, I want to know what you thought.”
Before he can respond, he feels a tapping on his right shoulder. Turning his head, he sees nothing. Then, another tap, this time on the left, grabs his attention. Now spinning his head the other way, he sees Berina smiling down at him. She squats down next to the couple.
“Your eyes were wider than my wingspan,” she says. Then, chuckling, she continues. “Thank you for being right here. It is easier reciting the Zarshala passages when I am saying it to someone in particular, and you, let me tell you, with your wide eyes, made the perfect target.”
Brendan smiles. “Glad to be of service,” he says.
Now Esfirs leans forward. “What is the next play?”
“I believe your husband owes us something,” Berina says. She turns and points toward him. “You owe us something that can beat this!”
He puffs his cheeks and thinks. "How about a story of a man far from home, with only a few friends, on a journey long and strange.”
Berina perks up. In response, he tilts his head up and lowers his eyes to establish eye contact with her. The stoicism powerplay move he received from countless Sabia is now a tool for him to use, if only for hyping up a story to a friend.
He fights every urge to smile as he talks. “This story involves a man challenged to do the right thing, the parting of friends, and an evil that threatens to kill them all.”
“Who is this story of?” Berina asks. Even Esfirs raises her eyebrow like a visual question mark.
Now he lets himself grin. “Brendan the Navigator.”
Hello everyone,
So I’m trying out Substack because free beats the fees of newsletter services.
This year I have been busy writing Risen, a sequel to my first book Fallen. The story's progress is steady, and I am confident about how the second draft is progressing.
As I have been writing, a recurring dream has called out to me. In the dream, Brendan is watching a Sabia drama performance. The whole thing is otherworldly, for lack of a better term, and in the dream Brendan discovers much about the background of the Sabia. Yet, like in many of my non-nightmare dreams, the details are sketchy.
After some thought, I decided that the scene could act as a prelude for the book, reminding the reader about the reveal of the alien Sabia, [SPOILER: they believe themselves to be a race of human-alien/angelic hybrids from prehistoric times] yet I was unsure what the scene should reveal. It was at this point I listened to the French crusader song Le Roi Louis (The King Louis).
The king calling his commanders to the battle resonated with me. Something epic is being demanded and those who hear it are overawed by its requirements. I knew I wanted something to similar to the call for a long journey, and combine it with a major event in the Sabia’s passed. So I came up with a scene that describes the how and why the Sabia left Earth, as well as give insight into their internal workings.
Let me know what you think!