NC Chapter 4

The results of the quite literal cliffhanger are revealed, and an unlikely character is introduced.

4

Gerya, the voice said, jolting her awake, Nira needs you.

What? she thought, flicking on her bedside lamp. What was going on? Her alarm was set to go off in only a few minutes; couldn’t the voice have waited until then? Then again, time never really mattered when the Creator wished to speak with you.

What was that? she asked, I didn’t understand you.

Nira needs you, the Creator repeated, She has been very foolish.

What else is new? Gerya thought, but immediately regretted it. Nira had just been trying her best, and Gerya hadn’t been helping her curiosity. It was as much Gerya’s fault as Nira’s.

She sat up and caught sight of Nira’s empty bed. Oh, Nira, Gerya thought, did you leave while I was asleep? Even you shouldn’t be foolish enough to try and hike down the Mount in the dead of night.

I tried to stop her, the Creator continued, but you know that I cannot interfere any more than I already had. Falling down the cliff was pure chance, and I couldn’t stop it.

“Wait,” Gerya said, “Then what did you do to try and stop her?”

I gave her the talent. She was mostly prepared for it anyway.

So it had happened; Nira had gained the talent one could only receive with the Creator’s permission. “So what laws did you give her?” she asked. The Creator gave the keys to manipulating different laws to each person.

Atomic structure and pressure, because of some of the experiments she did while under your care.

Gerya nodded to herself. It made sense to give her those; they seemed to be the ones she was the most familiar with. “Where did she fall?”

About a quarter of a mile down the mountain. I’ll tell you when you’re close.

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As Jarin walked through the ravine, he sung a hymn to himself to pass the time. Such hymns were not uncommon or blasphemous; indeed, the Creator had dictated that singing these songs were much like prayers at the Basilica. At the very least, they made this arduous chore that much easier.

Jarin scanned the base of the ravine, searching for any sign of life or movement that would identify prey. With winter almost upon them, the Faith needed as much food as they could get to survive, Creator willing. As was always the case with the coming season, a few people�"innocent youths, nothing more�"suggested using some of the new processing technology used by the Science faction. Such talk was quickly silenced; the Creator frowned upon technology, for such inventions and “innovations” served only for His children to become too engrossed in their own accomplishments. No, technology would not do; worship the Creator, heed the Elders’ counsel, such were the most basic tenets of the Faith. Not that he didn’t complain. Of all the duties of a Warden in the Basilica, gathering duty was his least favorite. He’d much rather be given the duty of teaching the holy texts, but perhaps the Creator meant to chasten him for his rebellious, self-centered thoughts. Yes, that must be it.

Jarin turned a corner, entering the portion of the ravine that ran next to the sheer eastern cliffside of the Mount, highest of the Kholib mountains, and saw something lying unconscious on the ground. He gasped inwardly, sucking in air with a hissing sound, and jumped back behind the corner of the ravine. Had the creature seen him? It had been large; the amount of meat he could get from it would be enough for a full day’s gathering. He drew his knife, a prayer to the Creator carved in the hilt, and jumped back around the corner, charging towards the beast.

Or rather, towards a young woman lying on the ground.

Jarin stopped dead in his tracks, dropping his knife through numb fingers. Who was this? She was beautiful, and the intensity of her beauty made Jarin question whether this was a vision from the Creator. But no, she was really there; Jarin prodded her side tentatively, checking for signs of life. No doubt about it, she was still alive. But how? Jarin looked at the outline of the clifftop, hundreds of feet above them. It must have been three hundred feet, at least; did she fall?

The girl groaned, eyes fluttering open weakly. “Ugh, where am I?” she asked, trying to sit up.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Jarin said, pushing her back down gently, “Just lie down.”
She complied, but the look in her eyes said she didn’t really want to. “What happened? The last thing I remember was walking back up the mountainside…”

“You were climbing the mountain?” People who fell unconscious due to a fall from a great height normally didn’t wake up for hours. Jarin did a quick count in his mind. “Dear Creator, you were climbing a mountain in the middle of the night with winter almost upon us? What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know…” she said, staring up at the top of the cliff, “Everything’s too fuzzy. I don’t remember.” She tried to sit up again; this time, she managed it.

“Where am I?” she asked again.

“A ravine,” Jarin replied, sitting next to her, “At the base of the Mount, near to the Faith border.”

“The Faith… so we’re still in neutral territory?”

“Indeed. I came here to hunt for food. What were you doing on the Mount, anyway?”

The girl was quiet for a moment. “What’s your name?” she finally asked. Apparently she desired to change the subject.

“My name is Jarin. And you?”

“Nira.”

“Well, Nira, I have to say, I don’t normally stumble upon beautiful girls in the middle of nowhere.”

Nira blushed and giggled. “I’m sure you don’t.” She winced and clutched her chest. “Ow,” she said breathlessly, “It hurts to laugh.”

“Let me see. I have some experience with first-aid.” Jarin examined her torso gently. “It looks like you’ve got some cracked ribs. Considering how far you fell, I’m surprised you’re even still alive, let alone not having any more injuries. Do any more bones feel broken?”

“Not that I can feel,” Nira said. She looked down, noticing that Jarin still had his hand on her chest. “Um, you can stop examining me now.”

Jarin glanced down as well; his entire face turned bright red and he quickly pulled his hand back. “I… um… I didn’t mean…” he stuttered. Nira had to fight to keep from laughing again and making her chest hurt more.

“NIRA!” he heard someone shout from atop the cliff. She looked up and felt an enormous sense of relief as she saw an old woman peering over the edge.

“I’m all right, Gerya!” she tried to yell, but it hurt her ribs too much to raise her voice too loudly.

“She’s all right!” Jarin yelled for her, “I’ve just been tending to her!”

Gerya looked relieved, but the suspicious glance Jarin saw her give him was proof that she wasn’t entirely trusting of this man of the Faith. Then again, she couldn’t have known he was of the Faith in the first place.

Wait a minute… Gerya? Not Gerya the Outcast; it couldn’t be, could it? Jarin had been told stories about an insane woman trying to bring the factions together who lived in these mountains. But to meet her? She was of the Demon himself, surely. He felt sullied even seeing her.

Considering his feelings at simply a glimpse of her, Jarin was surprised at how calmly he watched her run down the cliffside. Not climb, run. As if she could change the very nature of the world itself, this Gerya woman stepped onto the wall of the sheer cliffside and dashed down it, never stumbling or tripping.

As she got to the ground, Jarin backed up quickly, pressing himself against the opposite wall. “...What?” he stuttered out. Curse this blasted stutter! It always happened when he was scared. “What are you? A demon?”

Gerya glanced at him, annoyed. “Ah yes, that paranoia of the unknown is something I don’t enjoy in the Faith. Just because the Creator won’t explain something doesn’t always make it the Demon.”

“You know of our tenets?” Jarin said, mouth gaping, but quickly shut up. Why was he even talking to this woman? She was evil incarnate, the Demon’s own servant!

He drew his knife and pointed it at Gerya. “Don’t take another step towards her!” he yelled with as much force as he could muster.

“Jarin, what are you doing?” Nira asked, aghast.

“Do you even know who this woman is!?” Jarin said, knife shaking.

“Wha… of course I do, Jarin!” Nira said,  “Why are you… Oh, Creator’s hands, you’re going to kill her because of her reputation? You don’t know anything about Gerya!”

“I know that she’s the Demon’s own servant!” he screamed, “The Creator himself wants her dead!”

Actually, a voice said, That is possibly the last thing I want.

Jarin gasped, dropping the knife immediately. “Who… who was that?” he said, “What demon’s power is this?”

Again, Jarin, that’s the last thing that could explain this. Do you not recognize the voice of the one you worship day after day?

Jarin’s face turned a stark white as realization and fear registered in his mind. It couldn’t be… but it was. Creator’s hands, what was he doing still standing? He fell to his knees, placing his head to the ground in the deepest bow he could muster. “Oh Great Creator, may you smite me now for my insolence.”

Why would I do that? the Creator said, sounding genuinely confused, After all the trouble I took to get you here?

“T-trouble? What do you mean? Not that I’m questioning you, of course. One shouldn’t question their God.”

That’s the kind of question that you are free to ask me. I’ve taken great pains in getting you to meet Nira and Gerya, and I’m not going to have you ruin all of my planning because of warped prejudices.

“Warped prejudices? My lord, we follow your teachings.”

Actually, you follow what the Elders have decided are my teachings, the voice corrected, They are far from my actual directions.

“But… but why do you not admonish them?” Jarin asked, still not entirely believing he was speaking to divinity, “If they do not follow your teachings?”

Interfering is something I told myself not to do. Besides, if I had interfered, you would not be standing here meeting these two women right now.

“So,” said, of all people, Nira, “All this came to pass specifically to bring us together? Why in the world are we so important?”

Can you not guess, Nira? You are to unite the Factions. That is, after all, what Gerya has been fighting for all along.

“But why is that so important?” Gerya asked. Even she seemed baffled; if what the Creator said was true, and of course it was, she had been fighting for this end since the beginning. “Why interfere yourself in such a petty dispute between two sides?”

My purpose, the Creator said, Is to bring all of my children back to me. I cannot do that if an entire half of them refuse to believe in my existence, while the other half only follows me in name due to a corrupt religion. There has to be a reforging of this people, bring them back to what they were before the Conflict, in order for my true doctrine and teachings to even be considered by everyone. All of them, Gerya. That is my goal.

Jarin felt a tear welling up in his eye at such a declaration from the Creator. To think that the God of Kholib did all this out of a desire to bring his children home… it was so simple, and the simplicity of it was what made it make sense. The Elders taught that all people were inherently evil, and they must obey everything the Elders said in order to become good again, while the people of Science, without knowledge of the Creator, were doomed to live with the Demon in the next life. Jarin felt a peace he had never felt before, and a sense of love from the Creator that he had never expected from his God.

That being said, the Creator continued, We don’t need to worry about that right now. What we do need to worry about is getting Nira out of this ravine. It pained me to allow you to fall, Nira, but it was the only way for you to run into Jarin.

Jarin gulped. “M-me? Why am I important?”

Oh, you’ll find that out soon enough.

“We have to get going, Jarin, to take Nira back to my home so I can treat her injuries.”

“With what? Not some of that blasphemous Science technology, I hope.”

Gerya looked at him in exasperation. “I really wish that the suppression of technology hadn’t been something that came as a result of the Conflict.”

Jarin stared at her. “What do you mean? The Faith has always spurned technology.”

“Actually, my dear boy, that policy came about in the last twenty years. What, do you think the Faith could have fought the Science to a standstill in the war with the technology they have right now? It would be physically impossible; no, the Faith was so devastated by how much destruction they’d caused that they renounced all technology and reverted back to a more primitive society.”

“You… you’re lying. That can’t be true.”

“I was in the Conflict,” Gerya said, “I know what I’m talking about.” She turned to Nira, “Can you walk?”

“I… I think so.” Nira said, getting shakily to her feet, “I won’t be doing any heavy exertions, but I can walk.”
“We won’t risk it,” Gerya said, gently taking the girl’s arm. She looked around at something Jarin couldn’t see, then suddenly, without sound or any other kind of warning, Gerya and Nira shot upward as if the Creator no longer held them to the ground. Once they crested over the top of the cliff, they lurched to the side and landed back on the mountain path. Gerya supported Nira back up the path and out of sight.

“Incredible,” Jarin said to himself, hearing his voice echo off the ravine walls. Suddenly, he realized with a start that he hadn’t even found any food to bring back. The Elders would not be happy. He dashed off further down the ravine, hoping there would be an unsuspecting deer or something that had wandered in.

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Hours later, Jarin returned to his village with, of all things, a wild boar slung over his shoulder. It had definitely been the last thing he’d expected to find when it had appeared and charged him. Thankfully, Jarin had quick reflexes.

Jarin had always found the village to be the pinnacle of simplistic beauty. He’d heard stories about the monstrous buildings and cities of the Science, and just the thought of that made him shudder. What would he do without the cobblestone pathways, the farms and pastures with his neighbor’s homesteads beside them? What would he do with only the chatter of thousands of people, instead of the steady rattle of the ox-drawn cart belonging to the milkman as he brought fresh milk from his cows? The Creator could be found in the beauty of the earth and nature, and Jarin couldn’t believe that the Science would abandon that philosophy so readily.ffffff

He dropped off the boar at the butcher’s, only half-listening to the butcher’s astonishment at the sight of a boar. He had to tell the Elders about his experience. They needed to know that the Creator was dissatisfied with them.

He was sure that his friends and neighbors were confused when he walked past them with barely a greeting, but he had a purpose. Jarin headed straight for the Basilica, where, judging by the sun, the Elders would be having their weekly meeting. The pontiff at the door gently tried to dissuade him from entering, but Jarin would not be stopped. He opened the door and walked in, saying loudly, “Elders! I must needs speak with you!” The formal wording rolled smoothly out of his mouth like he was born to speak it.

“What is it, my son?” the Chief Elder asked, taken aback by the forcefulness of Jarin’s intrusion.

“Thy doings are not pleasing to the Creator,” Jarin replied, still speaking in formal speech, “I know this because he told me, whilst I was out hunting.”

The Elders all stood up in the face of this attack on their pride. “How dare you?” One of the other Elders said, pointing his finger in anger at Jarin, “Thou expects us to believe thou, but a youth, was visited by the Creator? This is blasphemy!”

“Our holy scriptures tell us of visitations,” Jarin said, holding firm, “And I declare that the Creator did speak to me.”

“Peace, Jarin,” the Chief Elder said, “And you too, Eshakyel. Let us speak in normal tongues, and discuss this like the civil servants of the Creator that we are.”

Jarin opened his mouth to object, as did the other Elder, but both quickly thought better of it; it would not do to argue with the Chief Elder.

“Very well,” Eshakyel said, sitting back down, “But let it be known I do not trust this boy.”

“It is noted,” the Chief Elder said, “Now, Jarin, tell us exactly what happened.”

Jarin related to them his entire encounter with Nira and Gerya, not mentioning, of course, that it was in fact Gerya the Outcast he had been talking with. It wouldn’t do for them to hear that he had been speaking with an alleged servant of the Demon. “And then she told me her name: ‘Nira’. The older woman ran down the cliffside to get to her, and I was sure both of them were of the Demon. However, when I accused them of this, a voice, audible to all three of us, told me that they were part of His own plan, and identified himself as the Creator.”

“Nira? You said her name was Nira?” a stranger asked from the side of the room.

Jarin turned to face him, confused. “Yes, I believe that’s what she said. And who are you?”

“He is a visitor,” the Chief Elder said, “From the Science. He came here asking after a girl he was looking for, someone who had gone missing in the mountains a few weeks ago. I assume this Nira is who you are looking for?”

“It is quite likely, yes,” the stranger said, “Please, Jarin, continue.” Jarin could hear the skepticism in his voice, but he could also tell the stranger knew this wasn’t the time to voice that skepticism.

“When I accused this woman of being of the Demon,” he repeated, “A voice told me that ‘that was the furthest thing from the truth’. The voice then told me it was the Creator.”

“Oh, Jarin,” the Chief Elder, voice kind and sympathetic, “Don’t you think that that is exactly what the Demon would say? His words feel like they have power, but they are all lies, and we mustn’t listen to them.”

“This was different,” Jarin protested, “With His words, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and love, a warmness in my chest that I instinctively knew the Demon could never replicate.”

“Pure nonsense,” Eshakyel piped up, “That was simply your own mind fooling itself into believing it was actually the Creator. If He did wish to speak to us, he would come in a flash of lightning, appearing only to the Elders with an unmistakable entrance. He must appear before us, or it is actually the Demon, who has no form, only honeyed words.”

Jarin opened his mouth to speak again, but then he had a distinct impression that he must say nothing. He understood somehow that nothing further he could say would sway the Elders.

“Jarin,” the Chief Elder said, “You are not the only young man to be fooled by the Demon. He is crafty, and you must follow the Elders’ teachings as concisely as possible. We do not blame you for being tricked; it is not the first time this has happened to a boy your age. Go in peace, my son, and let the Creator guide you truly.”

Jarin sighed. So much for that meeting. Eshakyel looked smug, and Jarin wanted nothing more than to punch that stupid smirk off the Elder’s face. Then again, punching a member of the ruling council of the village might not be the best idea.

As Jarin left the room, the stranger followed him “Excuse me, Jarin,” he said, “Could you direct me to where the old woman and Nira were headed?”

“Absolutely,” Jarin said, “There’s a path on the Mount that leads somewhere near the summit; I’m assuming there must be a cave or something up there that the two women live in.”

“Thank you, my boy,” the stranger said.

“By the way,” Jarin called as the man was walking out of the Basilica, “Why do you want to find Nira?”

“She’s my daughter,” the man called over his shoulder, “Need I say more?”