Unconquered Pt. 01

"First, there was a Fire -- an endless fire that burned and cracked. But then the fire sparked and from that spark sprang the Sun and he stood above the Fire, shining and perfect and golden. But the Sun saw the fire would, one day, burn to nothing but empty ash. And so, Sun reached in and found the most beautiful of the coals. He polished each and found a gem within and made the Moons, who would then become his wives. With the cooling light of the Moons, the fire ebbed and died, but left behind a vast field that could be worked upon."

"The Sun took a bundle of sticks and fashioned the first god, Gaia. She saw the world around herself and ran to the Sun, to shelter underneath him -- but the Sun burned her with his might and his heat and she cried. Her tears washed the world clean and made the Sea. The ruins of the Fire floated into the Sea, and the Sun gestured to these ruins. He said: Gaia, these are your lands, to make as you will."

"And so, Gaia walked the lands. But there were many places that needed more than a wandering goddess. Gaia, remembering her father, crafted more gods to tend to the lakes, to the rivers, to the forests that began to grow. The gods made gods, and those gods made gods, and soon, the whole world was seething with gods, covered with Ten Billion Gods. The Sun and the Moon looked down upon the works of the Ten Billion Gods and were pleased."

"But, the Ten Billion Gods saw the repose of the Sun and the Moons and hungered for that peace. Some sought the peace within. But many others sought the peace without -- enslaving their fellow gods to serve them, to bring them grapes, to rub their feet, to water their gardens. Wars were fought as god turned upon god. The Moons wept -- and from their tears came a new breed: Humanity. As each Moon is ever changing, each tear was different from one another. Some humans were black. Some were green. Some were blue. Some could fly on the heavens. Some could walk upon the seas."

"The gods, jealous that their place might be usurped, used their power upon the humans. For the gods were might indeed."

"But humans were of the moons. They were ever changeable, not merely in their form, but in their minds. The humans fought back, and created something new, without guidance from the Sun or the Moon. They harnessed the wind with cloth and flew across the sea. They bent sticks with string and launched arrows at great distances. They studied the ways of the gods and learned magic of their own. And the gods were defeated and humanity became the rulers of the world. But the Sun and the Moons had seen what happened when the gods..."

"...are you listening to me?"

"...Ember!"

Ember jerked upright and smashed his head into the ceiling. "Ow!" He grabbed at his head and then winced as a fine line of plaster leaked from the crack he'd put into it, sliding along his hair, down his nose, and off his chin while Storyteller Devra glared at him from across the small hut. Devra was holding a large wooden ladle and stirring the pot, rich and heavy with the catch from this morning. She had a snatch of spices between her fingers and was poised to drop them into the burbling pot. Ember blushed and grinned at her.

"Uh, yes?" he asked. "Totally. Deffo listen. Max listen even." He nodded and leaned back against the wall.

"Very well then," Devra said, dropping the spices into the pot with a hiss and burble. "What happened when the Moons saw the gods warring among one another?"

"Uh..." Ember paused. "...they...yelled at them?"

"Ember!" Devra snapped. "You were sleeping!"

"I was not!" Ember said, full of effrontery, drawing himself to his full height. Which, considering he was the smallest boy in the village of Rataka and was currently sitting, amounted to not a lot. "That accusation is entirely unfounded and...I...am honestly shocked you'd suggest such a thing. To me! Ember!"

"Your name is Sleeping Ember," Devra said, her voice dry.

"It is not," Ember muttered.

"Sleepy! Sleepy!" A distant voice called out, floating through the open door. "Sleepy! It is your mother!"

"It's not!" Ember said. "That's just a...nickname."

Devra scowled at him. "Tell your mother you're not my apprentice anymore."

When Ember emerged from the small home of Storyteller Devra and into the village of Rataka, it was with a scowl on his lips and a bump on his head. But that scowl faded as he saw just how lovely the day was. The seasons had recently turned with a great offering to the local gods of winter and spring. The offering to the gods of winter coaxed them to sleep, while the offering to the gods of the spring caused them to sweep away the clouds and bring the sun out. Shimmering overhead, that great golden orb looked down at Ember with clear beneficence. Three of the moons -- Agate, Lapis and Ruby -- were visible just over the edge of the horizon. Muted compared to the brilliant glow of their...

Brother?

Ember was pretty sure they were related somehow, but he'd kinda fallen asleep.

Eh. Whatever. They were pretty, which was what mattered. And they shown down on his village. Well, not his village. The village that he lived in. Rataka was situated at the very edge of what might be termed the reach of the Regency, on the site of a glorious battle won by King Bahul during the last Cycle. The massive stone swords dropped in haphazard patterns by the titans of the Vile Rhagani now served as lookout posts, usually manned by children too young to work at the field or on the river. Said river flowed from the eyes of a long dead god that was situated a few miles ahead of town, covered with earth and soil. But her face was still there, and her eyes still streamed with water, water rich with fish and lobster and the occasional extremely confused porpoises, and Rataka used that water -- to fish from, to drink from, and to divert into their rice paddies.

The rice paddies were mostly between the Two Axes, the largest of the stone weapons, and at the current height that Ember stood at, he could see the light of the sun reflecting from the pools of glimmering water. Villagers walked among them, tending to the rice, and several shrines to the local gods of rice were situated in the intersection of paddies. Ember rubbed his hands through his hair and tried to remember exactly why he was out here.

"Sleeeeeepy!"

Ember's face fell.

Several of the other boys -- including Jagatai the Mighty -- were nearby, working on fixing up the roof of several of the houses damaged by the most recent wildstorm. They heard the call and then started to coo and twitter at Ember. Jagatai even cupped his broad hand to his face and called out: "Don't fall asweep until you get home, Burdy."

Ember chose to be the better, more enlightened man and ignore them. He definitely wasn't a coward. But...you know...

Jagatai the Mighty had once ripped a stump out of the ground. With his bare hands. Yes, it had been hacked at for a few hours by shovels and hoes, but still. Ember hurried away, their mockery in his ears. He started down the curving pathway that led towards his house -- and stopped and tried to look considerably cooler and sexier as he noticed a familiar pair of feet sticking out of a hammock. He stretched his arms above him, then hooked his fingers behind his neck and walked slower and more casually. He paused by the hammock.

"Sup, June," he said.

"You've got plaster in your hair," June said, her voice flat as a board as she read a scroll.

June the Orphan lounged in her hammock -- which was strung up in the awning before the apothecaries shop. Her tail, long and prehensile, was using a stylus to make small markings on a clay tablet underneath her. The scroll was written in script that Ember didn't recognize, which...didn't actually shock him. June knew how to read. He didn't. But unlike most people, June didn't use this as a reason to act superior to him in specific. Instead, June just exuded an attitude of casual superiority, even if some people whispered behind their doors that her name was better June the Devilborn.

Pff. Just because someone had horns and a tail and smelled faintly of brimstone, everyone was going 'devilborn' this and 'I swear she killed my chickens and daubed the blood on my door!' this and 'June walked by my house and my cat dropped dead, right then and there!' that. But since June was the best apothecary in the village, apprentice or no, no one had ever chased her out or worse. And June's powerful 'don't give a fuck' field, the same kind of shield projected by the heroes in Ember's favorite stories, did well to keep men and women at bay.

Ember tried to very casually dunk his head in the nearby trough. As he did so, he said: "So, uh-" splutter. "-hows it going, June?"

"Eh," June said. "Still haven't been burned at the stake."

"Heh. Jokes." Ember stood, brushing his fingers through his hair. "How do I look?"

"Wet," June said.

"Ladies," Ember crooned and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"No, Bur. No. No." June shook her head. She kept shaking until Ember stopped wiggling his eyebrows. "No. Stop. Not even the left one. Okay." She sighed, then flicked her tail up, catching her stylus. "Did you lose another apprenticeship?"

"No. I aced it," Ember said. "You're looking at Rataka village's next storyteller."

"Tell me a story of Good King Bahul," June said, her voice as bored and disinterested as if she had asked about the distant stars.

"Uh-" Ember blinked. Every single fact he had ever learned about Good King Bahul flew out of his head, as if June had smacked him with a shovel. "He...had...a mustache."

"I'm amazed," June said. "A new level of incompetence."

"Yes!" Ember grinned. "Wait, shit, that's bad, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Ember sighed. Then he grinned. "Well. There's still..." He paused, thinking. He'd been apprentice to the fishermen, the rice harvesters, the roofmenders, the pottery makers, the shrine masters, the shipwrights, the village headwoman's assessor, the musician Po, and the apothecary. He was not entirely sure who was left to apprentice too. "The...necromancer."

"Rataka doesn't have a necromancer," June said.

"Exactly!" Ember grinned.

"Well, you will be unable to fail to learn from someone who is non..." She paused, then adjusted her scroll, as if she had just noticed something. Her brow furrowed. "Go away, Ember."

"Got it! We're a great team, June," Ember said, nodding and starting to walk along again. He was feeling fairly cheerful about how that had gone -- until he came around the corner and found his mother, standing before him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her huge, beatific smile only made him more nervous. And suddenly, Ember remembered that he had been out and about because his mom was calling him. Which likely meant that dinner was soon -- the sun would be going to sleep soon. He gulped slowly.

"Hey Mom!" he said, trying to sound cheerful. The light began to dim -- the sun was slowly starting to close, the two hemispheres of darkness that shrouded it when night came. As the night became dimmer and dimmer, the village lamplighters began to hasten to the lamp-posts with long wicks on sticks. Which was a sentence that never failed to make Ember smile.

"So, Sleepy," Mom said. "How was your apprenticeship?"

"Great!" Ember said, reflexively. "Terrible. Average!"

Mom frowned. "Tell me a story about Pearl," she said, naming her favorite of the five moons.

"...she's...the hot one?" Ember suggested.

"That's not a story and we all know the most attractive moon is Ruby!" Mom exploded.

***

Dinner between Ember, his Mom, his Dad, and his Saris was a little tense. Mom was disappointed. Dad was upset. But Saris, they were just sad. Ember picked at his fish and greens, then tried to cheer them up: "Hey, there's surely one more person to be an apprentice too! Like, uh, the guard captain, Gor!"

Mom sighed. "Ember...have you ever considered that maybe you should...try..." She groped for a word.

"You could work harder," Saris said.

"I work hard!" Ember exclaimed. "But...but the lessons-"

"You're lazy!" Dad didn't shout the words, but they still smacked against his face. "You're lazy, Ember, and that's no one's fault but your own."

Ember ducked his head forward. His eyes screwed shut as he felt burning tears pricking at them. "I..." He breathed in, then breathed out. "I will do better, father. I promise. May I go to bed now?" His voice was thick with emotion -- formal and stilted. Mom reached out, but Saris took her hand and stopped her. Dad inclined his head.

"Yes, son," he said.

Ember fled from his parents.

When he came to his room, he curled up under the blankets, covered his head, and fell into something akin to a deep, dark pit. And through the pit of his dreams, he was chased by the singsong voice of Storyteller Devra -- memories, half dreamed, half real, echoing in his ears. The Unconquered was a man who would not bow before gods or tyrants. The Unconquered was seen by the Sun and Chosen. The Unconquered shattered the thrones of the unjust and cast down the unrighteous, the wicked...

And in his dreams, the Unconquered -- Good King Bahul -- strode towards Ember, his normally smiling face set in a stern frown. His eyes sparked and his golden aura flared all the brighter as he pointed at Ember. His voice, sounding remarkably like Ember's father, boomed in his dream.

You're lazy.

You're stupid.

You're no good for anything.

You'll never do anything right.

Words that Dad had never said, echoing around Ember, spoken by Good King Bahul, chased him from the pit. He sat up and gasped heavily -- his eyes wide, trembling, sweat beading on his red skin. His hands grabbed onto his shoulders and he shivered as he looked blankly at the pale line of sunlight shining through the window of his home. Then the sound of the voices that came through the window, the real clamor that had woken him, reached his ears.

"That bronze blooded horned bitch stole everything!"

Ember blinked, then scowled. He scrambled from his bed, tugging his shift on over his head and wriggling his feet into his sandals. He ran outside and saw a large, angry crowd gathered around the storehouse. This was where the village set aside food and weapons, in case bandits attacked or something worse happened. The headwoman was there, and so was Gor, the guard, and half the rest of the village, and the apothecary. All of them looked furious, and all of them were looking at the open door into the storeroom and the tracks leading out of it.

Ember craned his head and saw the tracks, first.

They were bare feet. Only three people in the village didn't wear sandals. One of them was June. But that didn't mean anything.

Then he saw the lock of the storehouse had been...

Melted.

Like the Sun himself had reached down and poked it. But nothing else had gotten burned -- just the lock. And in the dimness of the storehouse, he could see several baskets were gone, as was the finest spear in the village. The one tipped by a tiny, carefully sharpened blade of sunsteel. Ember felt his gut flip in his belly.

"Explain your apprentice," Gor snarled to the apothecary.

The apothecary frowned as he stepped forward. He eyed the lock, then pursed his lips. "If I do not miss my guess," he said. "My perfidious and cruel assistant dosed my tea with a sleeping drug, so I might not notice her stealing the acid she used to melt this lock." He nodded. Ember almost inflated with fury. The apothecary always let June out to tend to things so he could sleep. June didn't need to dose anyone or anything. And everyone knew that...right? But as Ember looked around himself, he saw the other villagers murmuring and nodding to one another.

"She must have taken the spear to Nex-Ho," the apothecary continued. "A single chip of sunsteel will go for a whole chest of jade, if it were sold to an artisan. Something that my vicious, cruel, and spiteful former apprentice would well know...I...am sorry..." He put his hand over his face. "I should have known to suspect her...but I am too open hearted..."

The villagers were muttering darkly and glaring at the door. Gor shook his head. Ember nearly bust into flame with outrage.

June had fixed mixed potions and healed people ever since she had learned how. And the apothecary had slept and collected most of the money and trade on her skills to make potions he hadn't been sure on. Ember knew that because June had told him and he had watched her do it, and seen the good the potions had done. And now, with the merest word, the entire village was taking his word over hers? Ember opened his mouth to respond -- but saw Jagatai the Mighty punching one huge fist into an equally huge palm. He snarled, loudly enough for Ember to hear over the angry murmurs: "If I see that demon, I'll wring her little neck."

"Yeah!" One of Jagatai's friends said.

Ember realized...

If he opened his mouth, the entire village would hate his guts. They wouldn't believe him. Everyone knew he was...

He was Sleepy Ember.

He should just stay quiet.

Ember bit his lip -- and remembered the glaring face of King Bahul. He clenched his fists, then stepped forward. "You're a big fat liar!" He shouted, pointing at the apothecary. "June didn't need to drug you at all -- you were sleeping the whole day while she was working. In a hammock. Which, I mean, she could work in a hammock, since she was working with her brain. And you!" He pointed at Gor. "Don't you remember when she fixed your cut before it got sick? And you!" He pointed at Jagatai. "Who made the potion that cured your mother of...the...the disease that makes your skeleton explode?"

"It was a cold!" Jagatai snapped.

"It was still June who fixed up the cure!" Ember glared around himself.

And saw every single villager glaring right back. Gor frowned at him. "So..." He said, darkly. "You know where June went, do you?"

Gor grabbed onto Ember and Ember yelped. Before he knew it, he was slammed down into the chair in the headwoman's house -- and then both her and Gor glared down at him. And then the questions began: Where was June. Where had she gone? What had she been doing? How long had she been asking after the spear? Did she know any artificers? Had she offered to split the funds with him? How long had she been corrupting him? Did he know any of the names of the Devil Kings of Hell? They even tied a bronze pot to his head and poured water in it, just to check to see if it would turn vitriolic, before Ember finally shouted: "If I was a frigging demon and knew even one Devil Name, even the tiniest one, I'd be frigging using it you jerks! ...what are Devil Names again?"

Finally, Gor and the headwoman untied Ember and began to do something far worse than interrogate him.

They began...to lecture him.

"Devils are from Hell," the headwoman said, her voice serious.

"I-" Ember started, but Gor shushed him.

"Devils are from Hell. They were made by the Dark Gods ten thousand Cycles before, to be to them as humans were to the Moons," the headwoman said. "But because humans are the children of the Moons, we can breed with anything -- no matter how bad the idea is. Every devilborn is able to serve as a conduit from Hell to here. They seek to create Akuma, people whose fires have been consumed and replaced by the green flames of Hell. They sow chaos and discord. They absolutely cannot be trusted. Ever. And we should have remembered that...just because she's only one tenth devilblooded...we thought-"