Chapter 26: The Chalcedony Angels

A barrage of flickering violet lights appeared in the southern clouds moments ago. It seemed to come fast and simultaneously fan outward, as light from a lantern refracts off the surface of disturbed water. I could almost hear music moving with the light, a faint hum from thousands of miles away, and my blood seemed to come alive within my veins. I think I can write for a few days in this dome I found, with its vista of the destruction I called down. The glass is strong, strong as steel. When I rap my knuckles on it they hurt, and the thud of them on the glass is dull and low, almost as if I were knocking on stone. And yet it is as clear and easy to see through as air. There is warmth in here as well. A rare thing since I called out to Anpiel.

For weeks I worked in Matias's shop, bringing myself to the brink of exhaustion between my now threefold occupations. In a moment when I was so tired I nearly lost consciousness, I found myself being worried over by Eris, the lady of the dying earth, the visage of all the woes done to Tarthas since the Fall, the thing and the person for which I yearned. I knew not why I was so pulled towards her, and I know not still, I only know I loved her. And then, laying on a divan in their little cottage, I realized I was in her own bed. She held a trembling palm to my argent scalp, and I could feel her chill breath disturbing my eyelashes. I was delirious, and without knowing, the words came in speech as well as thought; I told her I loved her.

"Father needs me," she said, frightened. "Call out if you need anything," she said, leaving.

The following weeks were difficult. I had told her of my feelings, and so I did not repeat them, torturing her with the question of how earnest I had been. I was, after all, in a state of delirium, teetering on the edge of losing consciousness, and she had just come to my rescue. I'm certain it was her father who carried me, but, as I had seen her do when busy about the shop, she directed him where to put the thing. All matters of organization were her domain, and so I know that she deliberately wanted me intimately in her care, and so I told her I loved her, and I meant it. Therefore, she knew deep down it was so. But, when the heart is in conflict with itself, the pendulum swings.

Each day found her in a different mood. Some days she was warm towards me, leaning close when I stood near, adjusting her posture so our elbows would touch, or inclining herself towards me when there was no practical need. Other days found her as frigid towards me as a winter's wind. She would find any excuse to be across the room, or in another altogether, and still other days she would be as indifferent towards my presence as I was to anything that was not her.

Then came a time when her father was called to work for senior members of the Board, and as they would not dare sully their heels on the dirt of the natural ground, he was to live below, in the geothermally warmed palace at the base of Haven's fuselage. Eris needed me more than ever then, and so I made a special effort to present myself content with simple friendship, feeling in my gut that it was the best course. I knew my love for her would never die, and there were no other suitors coming to call, so I was content to wait.

As the first fortnight of her father's absence ended, she began to thaw, being more often disarmed and often standing closer to me as we worked. My unconscious mind was my ally then, taking full control of the learning process as pertained to cobbling, so that my conscious mind could freely enjoy my ongoing proximity to her. I learned a great deal about cooking as well, so that we could more fully enjoy our suppers together when the day was done. I began to notice an even greater change in her demeanor when the third week was under way, as my militia duties were suddenly increased. When I could spend time in the shop, she was luminous, and when I parted her company, she faded. Caduceus could well see the movements of this tide, as I beamed while cleaning the Orbital Archive diligently. To others my face may have looked mostly unchanged, as if I were observing the oxidation of gouache. But to Caduceus's careful eye, my joy was palpable.

I supped with him on several more occasions, noting that each time his wife and children were at her cousin's. He seemed increasingly distracted, all the while dodging matters of state, and cleaving instead to the topic of my burgeoning friendship with Eris. He was seen less frequently at the Bibliotheca as well, and somewhere in the background I began to worry. But before I had a chance to articulate those thoughts, Eris kissed me, and all was lost.

It was a peck on the cheek, the most innocent of kisses, one I've seen men from certain orders give each other as a brotherly greeting. But gathering the sprawling black oceans into a thimble would have been easier than managing my elation. I did my best to hide it from her, but she easily saw through my ruse. In fact, it proved to be a boon, as she often giggled at my more overt attempts to appear aloof. And one time, the night before her father's scheduled return, I dared to kiss her, only I had no interest in her cheek.

She tried to push me away at first, and I made to acquiesce, but then she pulled me closer and our lips opened. It lasted only an instant, and then she was busily putting things away that were not out of place, her back turned toward me. I felt more terrified then than I had ever been, and wanted desperately to flee out the door and never return. But something deep and primal impelled me to go to her, told me her back was turned so that I might hold her as a man holds a woman, and so I did. At first my hands went towards her waist, but before my fingers touched the frayed fabric of her gown, they shifted and went to her arms, drawing them back and holding them still at her sides. Then my hands lowered and entwined about hers. Her skin was clammy and her fingers shook. From there it was a simple matter of lowering my head and kissing the cold, bare span between her neck and shoulder.

I was late to my duties the following morning, and instead of Caduceus's warm, approving grin, I met an impatient shrew of a woman who looked as if no man had ever done to her what I had just done to Eris. I was told that Caduceus had been detained, though that information was laboriously acquired from one who knew our history. While I was deeply worried for my friend, I was forced to put off seeing to him, as I had a most urgent errand to embark on. The errand would lead to hardship, but at the end of a dark tunnel, abject bliss.

You see, when one abandoned a civil commission, the only way to avoid repercussions is to seek the pardon of the Chalcedony Angels, transient guardians all who love peace. Haven was close under their wing, and the Board looked to them as a higher authority that validated their own. To gain their approval you would petition Regis, their commander, and he would give you an arduous task, as if to symbolize you were giving all you promised to that commission in condensed time, freeing you to begin another, more self focused course of life. As I considered this course, my mind wandered back to other times I made critical choices, the most critical being not to choose a covenant. I think after that, it was the choice to show Turk, general of the Cataphracts, my brand.

The Cataphracts came into my life when I was an adolescent. There was one of their highest rank, a man named Goth, and the renegade Turk. They both appeared shortly before the facility I had been fostered at was attacked by raiders. There was a great deal of turmoil then, including an attempt to poison the region by loosing venomous parasites gathered from the darkest of Tarthas's dungeons, so the nature of the raid on the facility is difficult to judge. Turk saved me from both events, and carried me in broken form to the borders of Haven. He lost many close companions along the way, and was forced into exile over events that I never fully understood. Later he would be there again to take me in, when, like before, I had nothing and no one left. When I was waiting to submit my request to the Angels, I overheard a discussion of the campaign the Cataphracts were engaged in, and the name 'Turk' was spoken. My heart leapt. And then it sank, for my path to leaving the militia was not to be an easy one, and my blissful life with Eris seemed very far away.

Haven, if you have never been, was an impressive place in certain ways. Though it lacked the opulence of mid-Clarion, the decadence of Thieves' Gate, and the sheer enormity of Thirty-Third Day, it was sturdy, well fortified, and unlike the other magnacities, it had a modular nature that allowed for far greater restorative work to be done throughout. Also unique to Haven was its unity of purpose. What it lacked in spaciousness, it made up for in solidarity. When a threat arose, it was dealt with, no matter how far removed it was from the ruling elite. So it was that I, seeking a simple formality that would free me to live in a simulacrum of normalcy, was instead made part of a dangerous mission to cleanse the upper city of the targs for once and for all.

Till this point I had merely exulted in the requiting of my love. I had been a non-existent to women in the lower levels, even on my own working class tier. In general I was not especially bothered, as most of the women in Haven showed no special depth of character. Now the one I found most attractive of all was to be my bride, my partner in life, cohort in all its many battles. My exultation ended when the Chalcedony Angels, governors of all martial affairs, issued me my closing labor, and I was faced with the fierce and invigorating reality of what it means to be a man.

When I told Eris of my assignment, I chose not to disclose the full extent of the op. But when I told her I would be gone for an indeterminate amount of time, she seemed to guess at least part of what I'd kept from her. She smiled, and in her usual way was silent.

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Matias had purchased a small house in a nearby lot for us to live in after we were wed. I am certain he had made certain assumptions, but he carried on as if our nuptials were going to be incipit and unsullied. I did not devalue the morals he touted to us, I merely acted out of a youthful lack of self control born of self pity, and Eris and I had stolen the key to that house on more than one occasion. Matias found a reason to be away the night before my final deployment, and even went so far as to leave the key in plain sight. It seemed he too had guessed more than I disclosed of my mission.

That this could be the last time I saw my love was not lost on me, but I managed to put those thoughts aside until we lay still. Then, with pale lantern glow seeping through the gaps in the unfinished shutters, and the slow and labored breath of my lover teasing my skin, I saw in my mind a horde of targs descending from the sky to extinguish this flame that had only just flickered to life.

When I woke, Eris had already gone to her father's house to prepare our breakfast. She was agitated, which was not unusual, but I sensed that something vexed beyond what was obvious. She did not make me guess.

"Where did you go?", she asked upon my entry. I was genuinely perplexed. "I woke in the night and you were gone."

All I could do was hope she'd learned to read my face as Caduceus had.

"I went nowhere."

"I woke to use the privy and did not see you."

I shrugged and put my arms around her. "It was dark, my love."

She did not immediately return my gesture. "You are not, my love. And you were lit by the lanterns outside. I woke twice before to look at you while you slept. When I rose for the privy, I didn't see you."

We stood still in a moment of mutual confusion, locked in our sureness over what we knew. At length I spoke.

"Eris, I was there."

It seemed she had learned my face, as she conveyed with her own that while she could not reconcile my perceived absence, she knew I spoke the truth. She then returned my embrace and we went to work cooking. I sensed a certain fearful tension in her, again in a way that went beyond the clear matter at hand.

"I could have wandered outside and forgotten," I said, venturing a guess that would offer some sort of rationale. She smiled, a thing she did to ask for help when her delicate mind betrayed her. I reached across the table and took her hands in mine, then, with absolute surety, promised to her that I would return.

I was the only militiaman in the unit. The rest were regular conscripts, ragtag sellswords and a small group of special infantry commandos. I was in a squad of nine, given the callsign of Canary. The rest of us were conscripts, and our captain, a gaunt, dark skinned man of middling height with receding black hair, was one of the special operators. He reminded me of a soldier I'd known as a boy who died while my house was burning. The lieutenant in command gave a speech that was clearly intended to inject purpose and matching ardor into our hearts, and it is speeches like that which I find the most unpalatable. The soldiers about me raised their fists and shouted their pretentious oorahs, and as I so often am I was grateful for my monochromatic eyes, which I was able to covertly roll. When the charade was finished, the scope of our goal was repeated, with many of the crucial details severely occulted by political axioms and cries for peace and security.

Those words did stir feelings within me, though they were vainglorious when spoken to those directionless fools surrounding me. But to me, those words were deep and real as the sea that once drowned me. Hearing them spoken moved me almost to tears, as I could think of no finer gift to give to Eris. But then I thought beyond her, of men and women whom I'd seen perish for no excusable reason at all, people who'd shown bravery, innocence and resolve, people who showed love, people who were good, and were taken well before their time. I remember how it hurt to feel my emotions swelling and roiling within me, and the sense of pre-awakening, like the rising of Eosphoros to herald the dawn in past epochs. I yearned for those days, the ancient days, the days of Sol and Lune. Had I the power, I would have shouted to the sky and cleared it of its filth, and I wanted that power. I wanted any power that could breach the sky and let clean, healthy light pour through and turn Tarthas to Terra. If I had any presentiment, the slightest whisper of what that power really is, I... well, I don't know. I'm a different man now, and looking back on the boy that married Eris I am almost looking on a stranger. But I love that stranger, and I still love Eris, though if she could see me now I do not know if she would still love me.

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