In the Light of a Dying Sun, Book One

What follows is the fourth tale of a larger body of work called 'Beneath the Light of a Dying Sun'. The premise is one part Giovanni Boccaccio's The Decameron, one part Gene Wolfe's The Book of the New Sun, and one part Eric's Own Fevered Imagination... It is what it is without apology.

I'll give you the first few paragraphs then follow the Here's More link




The Last Daughter of Ombrial - IV
Terrapin and Hare


"Tell us another story of the Sun priests," called out a voice.

"Tell us the one of Terrapin and Hare," called another.

The elder motioned for silence and the village awaited Ambriasa, but Elder spoke first.

"You have told us of the Sun priests and their decline into wickedness," he began. "Tell us now of their end. Ombrial told this tale but once and seemed to have a purpose in the telling, but I have never understood why. And of his reason he never spoke. If you know of his purpose behind the telling of this tale," he said with the sweep of a thin arm to those assembled, "tell us now that we might carry this message in our hearts."

Her son handed her the water bowl and she drank before setting it aside.

"My father spoke to me once on this when I was very young, and instructed me to never forget, for in forgetting, he said, we repeat what has gone before. The Ancient of ancients speaks to us all and gives to us answers that only we can understand; the O'chelot knew this and tried to warn e'Urom. It is no mans place to tell another what he must believe, for the Ancient of ancients has given that choice to each of us.

"e'Urom was unhappy with his life, for he listened to men and not to the Ancient of ancients Himself. The Sun priests perpetuated this form and so ruled the world and grew corruption wherever they trode, becoming agents for and to themselves. My father knew this from the stories he drew from the amber book.

"I often thought the amber book to be magic, and my father its magician. The amber book itself may indeed be magic, but my father was just a man who loved stories. Who better to possess such a gift?"

She paused with a smile to the crowd gatherered among the columned ruins. "But the real magic lies in the womb, for it is there that life is kindled and truth established. And while the womb kindles life, the heart kindles propensity, which, if left untended, spawns wickedness.

"The truth my father hoped to tell was this: Believe for yourself or another will believe for you, and demand tithe for doing it.

"This place where we have gathered, in the Hall of the Ancients, whose pillars once shone in the dimmest light, now lay shattered and pitted upon the stones whereon great men once stood. To whom did they once belong? None now know with any surety, but we have always met here for the Rite of Remembrance. We come from as far as Endry to remember, for this has been the place where tales are told and passage given."

The fire leapt as a woman added more dung, and slowly the nights chill was pushed further back. The faces about the fire grew more distinct and the intensity written upon them strengthened her. This was a long tale.

"My father knew this place, but told few. 'Some would not believe,' he said. 'Most do not believe the tales in the amber book to have any life outside the mind and heart, that the places it describes were ever truly real.' But in this very place Terrapin performed the first Rite of Remembrance for the brother stolen from him, and returning to Hare those things taken from him.

"And that is what we do here, we remember what has been taken from us and take back unto ourselves those things that are ours by right. You give me passage because you know what has been taken from me. The tales that I tell show you who I am. No imposter knows where I have laid my fathers bones. You accept me for who I am and return to me what has been taken from me.

"This is where we sit. This is where we cry. And this is where we remember. My father knew these things. He knew because of the amber book. It gave him knowledge, and it made him wise. It gave him truth and it was his love to share that truth with any who would listen and hear its tales."

She looked about to the faces that ringed her and said at last,

"I will tell you now the story of Terrapin and Hare... "


At the height of the Sun Temple a war was waged between its priests and the Ohmican Citidan. The Temple sought to bend his will to its own but the armies it grew could not break the walls of the Citidan's fortress.

By the Rules of War that were, only the principles of war and their liegen were subject to the penalties of war; Citizens un-accoutered for battle were ignored and considered unseen, for in this way a lands riches were spared. And while the Citidan abided by the Rule of War, the Sun Temple did not.

There was also in that day, an Ohmican seeress who dreamt true dreams. To her this gift was a great burden, but for those who sought visions of the future, she was accorded respect given only to Citidans and priests. For a small price she would sell her dreams, and so it was she made her living. Her fame grew and spread over time until word of her gift reached the ear of the high priest of the Sun Temple, who, being prideful called himself the Sun o'Cluseon, for he believed his own glory to obscure Sun himself.

The Citidan, of course, knew of the Temple’s contempt for the rule of war and so kept his wife, the Citidanat Imbrala, locked within the fortress. But over time she grew restless in her confinement, and began to seek ways in which she might, for a time, escape the home that was now become a prison to her. The Citidan at last noticed his young wife’s unhappiness and consented to give her leave, though only for a time; for the Citidanat was with child, and fearing for his wife’s health, he sent her to a stronghold in the mountains where she might be cared for away from the rigors of war.

The van he grew to escort the Citidanat were, to the eye, of the un-accoutered class and so could not be, by law, hindered or waylaid by the Temple liegen, but the o'Cluseon ordered her van taken a day beyond the fortress walls, killing all her guards.

And so begins the tale of Terrapin and Hare.


Citidanat Imbrala was soon to deliver and her bearance had become poor since her capture. Fearing for her safety, the o'Cluseon called upon apotecaries to tend her and ordered the Ohmican seeress to be brought to the Temple that he might ask her for the future of his deed, for Imbrala was well loved by the people. Should anything happen to her the Citidan would call upon the people to stand against the Temple, and despite all its power, the Temple could not wage a war on two fronts.

The Seeress was an old woman, stooped and lined like stone, but her eyes shone with knowledge and strength. Her staff of iron rang upon the stones of the temple as she approached the Sun o'Cluseon.

"Why have you done this thing o'Cluseon?" She asked. "Indeed, why have you called upon me? If you think I will aid you in this thing you are mad!"

"Be still, Seeress," the o'Cluseon snarled. "I require but one thing of you. You will dream your dream and grow for me the future of my actions. What must I do to insure my victory and secure defeat for the Citidan Ohmica?"

She looked upon the o'Cluseon and laughed. "What will you give me for the dream I grow, for I am a poor woman?"

"Your life," he said, and saw her eyes grow dead.

"Very well," she said at last. "I will need a lock of her hair that has been wet in her own spit. Bring that to me," she said with a rap of her staff upon the stones, "and allow me the night in which to grow the dream and when the Sun wakens I will give you the answer you seek."

It was done as she asked, and under the pale light of a sliver moon she worked the charms that allowed her to see the future. She dreamt long and hard as the night deepened and upon sunwaken she rose and went to the Temple gardens to await the o'Cluseon’s summons.

Though the hour was yet early she came upon Imbrala weeping beside a fountain at the gardens center. "Do not cry, Citidanat, you will see your home once more."

"But what of my child?" Imbrala cried.

"You shall bear two sons, Citidanat, this very night. Two sons, though you will only take one with you."

"Only one?" Imbrala wept, "why but one? Will the other die? Tell me Seeress, why I'll not take both with me?

The Seeress sat beside the Citidanat and held her young hands in her own.

"You will bear two sons, Citidanat, and both shall live," she softly spoke, "but you must sacrifice one son to ensure this. If you refuse one son, you will lose both. I have seen it. The one you lose will be raised by the o'Cluseon, and will be raised to hate the Citidan. And you."

"This is too horrible!" Imbrala cried. "Better to lose one son in death than to lose him through hatred. How can I do this thing?"

"Ahhh, but child," the Seeress smiled, "he will come to hate the Sun o'Cluseon more, and therein lies your revenge. Very shortly the o'Cluseon will call upon me to tell him my dream. I shall tell him that you will bear two children, and that animal signs shall mark both. One shall bear upon his forehead the image of a hare, while the other shall bear the terrapin. I will tell him he must choose one and allow you to leave with the other, but to choose wisely, for in his choice lay victory or defeat. He will wish to choose the child marked by the terrapin because of it's resemblance to the Sun they worship, but I will convince him otherwise. It will be a small lie, but I will tell it for the manner in which I have been treated. Nor will I tell him of his death. In this way you will live to see the o'Cluseon dead."

"What more will you tell me, Seeress?" Imbrala asked.

"There now, child," she smiled, patting the Citidanat’s hand, "I have told you more than I should. Fear not. It is possible you may gain the son you lose when all is come to an end, but I cannot say for certain, for the thread grows too thin to see so far ahead. Leave with the son he gives you and be happy."

"Thank-you, Seeress. I will try."

There came shortly a pair of priests and they led the Seeress away. Imbrala gathered her mettle and waited for evening. She would have two sons! One she would leave in the Sun o'Cluseon’s hand, and the other she would raise to hate the Sun Temple.

The Seeress was led to the o'Cluseon who demanded of her the dream.

"O great o'Cluseon, Here is the dream and the veracity of my word, for on this very night the Citidanat shall end her bearance and bring forth two sons. Both sons will bear the animal sign: one, the terrapin and the other, the hare. In the midst of their foreheads shall they be marked. One of these sons you must take unto yourself and raise against the Citidan himself, the other you must send away with its mother. Take no child and you will surely die, take both and you die inside the year. That is the dream I have grown for you."

The o'Cluseon rose slowly and with an air of triumph spoke, "Tell me, Seeress," he smiled, "what are the shape of these signs the children shall bear?"

She moved to the fire and taking a lump of coal drew the signs on the floor. The one was like unto a hare in flight the other was a sun with six points.

"The choice is clear, Seeress." he laughed. "I will choose the sun."

"You must not," she cautioned and shook her rod at him. "The Ancients conspire against you, hoping you will choose the terrapin."

"How so, Seeress?"

"The terrapin is slow upon the earth. To defeat the Citadan you must choose swiftness. The swift stroke kills, the slow stroke dies with the oblate in his back. Send the Terrapin back with its mother and the Citidan will die at the hand of Hare, this I swear."

"One thing more," she said. "Do not tell the Citidanat that she has bore two children. To do this, the first child must be rushed out of her hearing before it utters a cry. They will come one after the other and in this manner she will not know she has borne two. I will give you herbs to dull her senses to insure she does not remember the pain of two."

And the sun o'Cluseon believed her dream.


In the years that passed the war between the Citidan and the Sun Temple grew, but the Citidan cared more for the raising of his son whom he had named for the mark he bore. Terrapin.

The Citidanat Imbrala did not tell her husband of his other son, but went often to the walls to see the son she forsook. For once each moon the Temple held processions through the city and beside the Sun o'Cluseon himself, sat always her other son, who had been named the Son of the Great Sun, and given the title Sun c'Cluseon. Over the mark of the hare was painted a golden sun, and his hair was dusted with gold.

The Sun c'Cluseon was worshipped by Temple followers almost as much as the Sun himself, but he grew more and more uneased by their worship with each year that passed, and grew to hate the Temple that sheltered him.

Seasons changed and years spun, and the two children grew strong and true. Terrapin learned the art of rule by the side of his father the Citidan, while c'Cluseon learned oppression at the hand of o'Cluseon, the man he knew as father. The Citidan titled the son he knew Ohmicar but everyone called him by the sign upon his forehead, and so it was at the feast celebrating his confirmation, he was crowned Terrapin Ohmicar.

As was custom, every citizen of Ohmica, regardless of feud or allegiance, was invited to the Citadel to pay respect to the future Citidan. And so it was that Terrapin Ohmicar met his brother for the first time.

The Citidanat saw in this occasion a chance to gain both sons, and destroy the o'Cluseon once and for all as she had been promised. In the weeks before the crowning of Terrapin, Imbrala summoned the Seeress to grow for her a dream, like unto the one grown for o'Cluseon years before.

"Dream for me how I may destroy the Sun o'Cluseon," she begged, "and I will give thee eighteen tohns of gold. One for each year I have wept for the son I lost."

"Eighteen tohns?" Laughed the old woman, "and what would I do with so much gold? Buy a throne?" And she cackled more.

"What ever you wish, Seeress." Pled Imbrala.

"I will take thirty-six tohns, Citidanat." Answered the old woman. "Eighteen more for the son you do have."

"Very well, you shall have it! Tell me what I must do!"

"Bring to me a lock of Terrapins hair wet upon his tongue," she began, "and bring to me a lock of your own that has been wet by tears shed for the son you have lost, and I will do as you ask."

When these were given over to the Seeress she went alone to the rooms given her beneath the open sky, and dreamt the dream, and she knew upon waking that it was the mightiest of all her dreams. And she trembled for the powers she had drawn upon.

When the morning of the feast began she called the Citidanat to her and demanded she call upon Terrapin.

"For he will be the instrument of your revenge," she explained. "By his hand Justice shall be meted, and the Sun Temple will see its final hour pass."

When Terrapin arrived she commanded Imbrala to tell him all that had gone before. And when he knew at last of the son stolen from his father the Citidan, the brother robbed from him, he was wroth with anger.

"Why have you said nothing, mother!" he demanded

"Because there was a chance I might gain the son I lost; your brother, but only if I kept silent. I would have lost both of you had I not done this." And she hid her face and wept.

"Have you never wondered, young Terrapin, about the mark you bear?" Asked the Seeress. "Have you never wondered why the c'Cluseon wears a golden sun upon his own brow, a thing no other priest has ever worn? It is to hide the mark akin to yours, yet different."

"Akin yet different?"

"Your brother bears the mark of the hare upon his brow." She explained. "The o'Cluseon thought to hide the hare from any eye that might suspect the truth: that you and c'Cluseon are brothers."

Terrapin trembled in anger and cursed the Sun o'Cluseon. "My brother has been stolen from me."

"Would you take him back, young Terrapin?" The Seeress asked, "For that is what you must do. Only you can do this. That is why I counseled the o'Cluseon to take the hare, for your brother is the weaker of you. He could not do what you must. It is not a flaw that lies within him, it is simply his nature."

"What must I do?" He said.


On that same morning the sun o'Cluseon called his son that he might speak with him, and he spun a tale to enrage the young man, that he might incite him to destroy the Citidan.

"You must know this day that I am not your father, young c'Cluseon."

c'Cluseon, who had never felt at home in the Sun Temple, grew troubled and questioned the man.

"But father, I have always been your son, why do you tell me this? Am I not a good son to you?"

"You have been a fine son, c'Cluseon, yet you are not mine. You were abandoned at the door of this Temple when you were but a day old." Inwardly he smiled, for the end of his long plan seemed close to hand.

"Then who is my father?" The boy asked. "Who is my mother?"

"Ah, but more importantly," spoke o’Cluseon, "who is your brother?

"I have a brother?"

"Indeed you do. Terrapin Ohmicar is your brother."

"I am brother to the Citidar?" c'Cluseon asked with surprise. "If my true family had been poor and could not feed two growing sons, I could understand why they might give one son away, but the Citidan? He is rich beyond knowing. Truly he is the beast you have always named him to be."

"Yes, my son,” the o'Cluseon said, "for indeed you are my son, as I have raised you and cared for you, but the time has come when you must take back what was taken from you. For you, my son, were first born."

"First born!" cried c'Cluseon, "I am the true Ohmicar?" And he shook with fury. "Why was not my brother given away?" He demanded.

"For the sign upon your brow." o'Cluseon lied. It was thought that the beast upon your brow was the weaker of the two and because the Temples struggle with the Citidan it decided that the stronger of the two must one-day rule and they chose your brother because the beast he wears is like unto the sun we worship. The Citidan thought to pit his Sun against ours. Against you." And his words sank into c'Cluseon’s broken heart and began to fester.

"And my mother?” He asked, "Why did she not just lie about who had been first born? How could she give away her own child?"

"In defense of the Citidanat, it was not her choice. She begged me to take you and raise you as my own. She loved you deeply."

"Why would she give her son to the enemy of her husband?" asked c'Cluseon and his father finished the lie.

"In hope that you would destroy the Citidan, for she could not forgive him for sending you away. And to hide her deception, it was agreed that a golden sun would be painted upon your brow to cover the mark of the hare, lest your father see it and recognize you. That is also why I chose your name such as it is, for you have been secluded within sight of the Citidan who spurned you."
With a voice cold as stone c'Cluseon spoke,

"The Sun is my father, and I shall destroy his rival."


And so it was that c'Cluseon came alone from the Temple with but a small escort of liegen. o'Cluseon laughed and reveled in the fine joke he played in sending to the Citidan the son he did not know. The son who would that night slay him.

Sun fell, drawing the curtain behind him, and citizens from across the land came to greet Terrapin Ohmicar, future Citidan of Ohmica, but c'Cluseon held back that he might be last and so confront his brother. He studied his brother’s face and saw many similarities he had not noticed before, indeed, he was the mirror of Terrapin, and his anger deepened. He approached his brother at last and spoke.

"Greetings Terrapin Ohmicar. I extend the hand of friendship from the Sun Temple in hopes that the future might see an end to our war." And he bowed, though it hurt him to do so.

"Greetings, Brother," whispered Terrapin with a grim smile. "What was once stolen from us has returned. You are indeed welcome."

"Stolen? Brother?" c'Cluseon hissed with scorn. "Our mother cast me away and though I hate my station, I am far from returned!"

"You have been lied to, my brother, as have I. For I have just this day learned that you and I are brothers. I have just this day learned of the Sun o'Cluseon's treachery in breaking the rule of war and stealing my brother. I would see him dead!"

"And I would see the Citidan dead, for choosing you over me!"

"My father, your true father, knows of only one son. Our mother hid from him the knowledge of you to prevent the escalation of our war, knowing that the day would come when you would be returned to us."

"How could our mother know this?"

"From the same Ohmican Seeress who dreamt for the Sun o'Cluseon his own means of supremacy. You, my brother, were to be his instrument of revenge against our father, the Citidan. But let us retire from this gathering and talk of this alone, we must speak of how we shall be revenged for having been stolen from each other. You have lost your rightful place as a son of the Citidan, but I have lost my brother."

Terrapins speech was not what c'Cluseon had expected, and was in awe of his brother’s words. Words that made him at last feel kinship for another.

I have a brother, he thought, a brother who wants me.

The room they stood in, like all the rooms within the palace was lined with columns grown up from the marble floors unto the timbered ceilings high above. The cool winds that blew over the walls of the palace, chilled c'Cluseon. A servant stepped forward and laid a robe over his shoulders and from behind he heard his brothers voice.

"What was stolen from you; the comfort of family, the warmth of our love, is restored to you."

A tear welled in c'Cluseons eye, as servants came with scented water and cloths and began to wash the golden star from his brow. He heard his brother voice once more.

"What was stolen from you; the name upon your brow; c'Cluseon no more, is restored to you."
His vision washed away in a stream of tears, and he felt a heavy ring slid upon his finger and the voice of his brother yet again.

"What was stolen from you; the wealth of your father, and his acceptance as son, is restored to you. For this very night he has learned of you and has left our revenge in my hands alone, but only by your word."

c'Cluseon wiped the tears from his eyes and looked upon his brother, who wore a mask terrible in its wrath. "What say you, Hare. My brother."

Hare thought for long moments and finally spoke.

"I say this, brother. I have learned from a child to hate you. I have learned to hate the Citidan my father, and even the Citidanat my mother, but I have learned to hate the Sun Temple and the Sun o'Cluseon more. The priesthood is corrupt. They care not for the people, but only for their own gain and supremacy. It is time this war ended, true, but it is long since time the Sun Temple was destroyed. Completely and utterly." He paused a moment to breathe deep his new home. "Is what you have shown me here the truth, or a lie? Am I truly home, or do you use me?"

"If you tell me to do nothing, brother, then nothing will be done, but you are ours, stolen from us, and now returned. The Sun Temple will fall. Perhaps not this night, nor the next, but I swear to you brother, it will fall, and I would not lose you again in its crashing." And he embraced his brother and kissed his cheek.

"The priests must not all die," whispered Hare, "there is still some good within the Temple walls."

"We will spare all those who do not resist."

"But o'Cluseon and his ministers must all die. Strike the head lest they return again to bite. And the Temple must be burned. The walls taken down and each stone used to another purpose. Its riches must be given to the people of Ohmica. To each person his share."

"It shall be as you say. Now, I must enter the Temple in your stead, and open the gate for our leigen. Will you share with me your knowledge of the Temple's interior?"

While the servants accoutered Terrapin to the image of c'Cluseon they spoke amongst themselves. They had not been long from the hall, but some noticed that the Ohmicar and c'Cluseon had gone off by themselves, and they began to whisper. Some thought this a good sign, that the war may soon end, but others saw in this only the first of many wars between future rivals.

Terrapin Ohmicar stepped from the curtains behind his throne and the Sun c'Cluseon followed. To the guests they both looked angry, though the face of the Sun c'Cluseon was more so, and with a small bow to the Ohmicar he strode from the chamber amid open whispers with his liegen behind.

In the midst of the assembly he ordered one temple guard forward.

"Go quickly to the Temple and have the baths ready, that I might wash Terrapin Ohmicar's stink from me." And the man sped off.

Hare's words echoed in his mind. Things he must say and do, and things he must not. How his new liegen must behave and what they must speak. They needed only to get to the rooms where slept the Sun o'Cluseon.

Each liegenet carried a long oblate of cold iron sharpened on each edge. Killing would become necessary, but they needed only slay the o'Cluseon. Two liegenet were to relieve the gatemen, and at the horns calling open the gate to the Citidan's leigen who would destroy any who resisted and begin the tearing down of the Sun Temple.

The gates were opened to them when they arrived and the gatesmen relieved. The Halls were just as his brother had spoke them, and because of the face he wore none opposed him though some eye was given to the liegen about him, but they reached the chamber where slept the great o'Cluseon himself without difficulty.

It was known that the meaning behind the title was long forgotten, but Terrapin laughed inside himself at the irony of the occlusion he himself would lay over the Sun Temple. But despite his hatred, the sight of so old and frail a man stirring upon his bed grew pity in his heart. But it stood no ground against the hatred that shone in his eyes.

"What is it, c'Cluseon?" Asked the old man. "I thought to stay awake until your return but the hour grew late. Surely we can speak of this evening come sunwaken."

"Forgive me father, but this cannot wait." And with those words the liegen with him rushed forward and together plunged their oblates into the old man, staining his sheets with blood and sacrifice, and the pleas of the dying man.

"It is done." Terrapin spoke. "Sound the horn." And a young liegenet, blood fresh upon his oblate, ran to the outer court and blew upon a horn of ibex and silver. Its note carried over the walls to the leigen beyond and into the dreams of a sleeping world. The gates opened and the Citidan's liegen poured into the doomed Temple.


In seven moons the last of the Temple's foundation was finally removed. The earth it had sat upon was planted with timber carried long distances from lands far to the north. In seven turns the Citadan passed and Terrapin rose to his place, and chose to share the throne with his brother. Together Terrapin and Hare ruled wisely, and for generations the world grew in peace.
Hare grew to love Imbrala, his mother. The words of the Seeress fulfilled and the tale ended. But Terrapin and Hare were the last of the truly great Citidans, for in destroying the Sun Temple they set their own decline in stone. The world moved on. Zon shifted from her bed and fell no more where Enohtoo perished. The years grew longer and the sun itself dimmed its face as if to mourn the passing of its priests.

The hall where we now sit was once the Citidans great hall, whose pillars grew from the polished stones upon which they rested, pillars whose glory are long faded and pocked with age, broken and tumbled upon Earth. The stars themselves have moved from their ancient seats and the tales from the amber book but show us all what we have lost.

~

"I hope to learn from the memories of Terrapin and Hare. That is both the message of the story and the storyteller. By the ancient words I call this tale done and ask your leave."

"And thus it is remembered," said the Elder, "the story is given, and Passage is granted. May his memory live forever."

"May his memory live forever."


______________________
Previous Chapters:

I The Cradle of Giants
II The Wind and the Rain
IIIAgates and Gold

And for a glimpse of where I'm going with it all...

Note to Self...

Sometime after Valentines Day I'll post the last installment of Part I, Our Fallen Friend