N/Legends/Oracle of Kalas

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"God's finger touched him, and he slept." - Alfred, Lord Tennyson

A story of the Anointer, who gave men death and dead men life.

Once upon a time, there lived a man named Kalas. He was a priest of the Temple of Zahr, and he lived in the city of desire, the city of the red flame, the mighty citadels of Mihrgan. The priest Kalas loved his goddess deeply, but he was something of an eccentric, for on the streets of Mihrgan, he was called the Khalia of the Night, for his voice was as beautiful as the most powerful of the Khalia who inhabit the night palaces and sing the maidens of Zahr to sleep with the songs which, it is said, can drowse even the clouds to longing, and he wore the body of the Sanaa, the legendary slaves of the gods.

But as he was a priest, and could only give his love to his high priestess, the lady Saadat, he conspired his guiles beneath the moon, under the shadow of trickery, and while the night fell and his high priestess fell asleep, he would feed her the Seeds of Kulub, and she would fall asleep into a slumber of golden trees and sweetfruits. And every third night of each month when the high priestess was to have Kalas in her arms, he would give her the seeds which can only be found on the branches of the Kulub trees, deep in the depths of the Asan Sea, and he would flee into the night lights of the city of red love. And in the morning, she would awake, and he would be in her arms, and she grew to love him intensely with such a desire that although he had the gift of a high priest, she would never allow him to leave her. And so he remained a priest, and when the time came for a new high priest after the beneficent Nakir fell to the harvest of time, another was elected, and not Kalas.

Kalas become wrought with ill, for he believed the high priestess Saadat to be an ugly thing, wretched as her power wore on her like a garment of heavy cloth and wore away at her soul and her body, until she was like an old maiden who had drunk too much wine, and he grew depressed at his position. As a consequence of his temperament, Kalas spent longer periods of time in the city, and tempted fate often, returning before sunrise, sometimes just as the seeds wore their dreams away.

But one night, Kalas met a woman who captured the glory of the sun, and she took him in her arms and told him to escape with her to a land of uncompromising joy. Kalas looked deeply into her eyes, and he saw the beauty of the mountains there, and he saw himself running down the hills and bathing in the streams, free from the promise of Zahr and free from the prison he was bound to, like an animal to a pen. But he also saw fear there, and at nights, he saw himself shivering under the shadow of the moon, afraid to look in the sky for his goddess watching, waiting to strike him and cast him into the sands of which nothing returns save the bones of ancient beasts. And this fear overwhelmed him so, that he hurried back to the Temple of Zahr, to the bed of the high priestess Saadat.

But when he arrived, he realized he was too late, and she lay awake on the bed, staring into the rising sun on the horizon. And she cried out: "How could you do this to me, my beloved? I am caught with the illness of a woman sold, cold with the ice of a winter I cannot possibly know."

Not being able to hold himself any longer, he told her the truth, of how he hated every moment with her, and how he wished he had never sworn his vows. And it came out as a stupid, ugly blind rage, and when he had finished, he was sorry.

But the tears on Saadat's face judged him, and with that judgment the priest Kalas was thrown into the shadows of the prison with no name, the prison of which all who were sent there were forgotten, and the prison for which there was no escape. This was also the prison where the Red King, in his rule of blood, imprisoned the Eternal Lady, who it is said is still behind that one door drinking the Water of Life, even after forty centuries of life.

For many years, the man Kalas lay in the darkest of his life, sucking on the air that was not to be breathed, and eating the gruel of his guards, who made the sounds of screeching steel and the blabber of beasts, as they would patrol the halls of the underground prison.

And then one day, while wandering the darkness of the labyrinths below, he met a little boy with the brightest of eyes, colored like sealight. The little boy was weak; his limbs shook, and his tiny hands were like bones, and when he saw Kalas, he fell into his arms and began to cry. And from that day forward, Kalas took care to feed the boy his food that was the best, and to tell the boy stories as he fell asleep, and to hold him when he was sad. The boy would not tell his name, for he was afraid of what Kalas would do. And so, he remained as the boy to Kalas, and only the boy.

One night, the boy awoke with a scream, and Kalas held him very close. He asked: "What is wrong, boy?" And the boy did not say anything until the next night, when he told Kalas of his trouble.

And he said: "I saw a man dressed in darkness, and he sailed on a boat with no sail, under a night with no sky. And he spoke to many people, although they were not people. He wore the robes of a priest, but he was no priest, and he spoke like a man, although he was no man. And then he lifted one of the holy rods, although it was not a true holy rod, and he commanded his people to rise, although they could not rise for they were not men. But he continued to chant this, and they did rise, and then they marched through the night that was not night, and into a land of infinite sun. And when they marched into this land, it became as dark as night, for darkness reigned upon the land."

And then he said: "I do not know what it means, but it is terrible."

So Kalas replied: "Do not think any more of it, little boy. Think of beautiful women and eternal life." And he smiled at the little child.

But then the child said: "I know a way out of this prison, Kalas. I have seen it in the guards hearts."

With that Kalas was surprised, and he asked: "How it is that you know this, boy?" And he looked deeply into the boy's eyes, and some recognition came to him, but it was faint, as if a dream from long ago.

The boy said: "I have seen it; that it all." He paused, and studied Kalas. "Please, we must find the Fallen Cave, of which I have seen."

And then Kalas knew, and he said: "You are the boy, Durr, who is cursed by the god Maghrib, who is the bride of Zahr, and you are the one who slew the city of Kut in a single day and set fire to the holy book of Jann! You are that boy!"

And the little child lay on the knee of Kalas, his face weeping and his soul turned to stone. And Kalas soothed him, and said: "Do not worry, little one. Zahr has abandoned me, as well, and I no longer follow the goddess of love, for her love when faced with opposition, turns to hate, and she has turned her face from me when she cast me into this pit. So do not cry, little one."

And the boy Durr said: "I did not wish for death. But after Maghrib promised me that I could ride the horse Kilabah, who only existed in my dreams, in exchange for the death of his brother Jann, he abandoned me, for he did not understand the essence of Kilabah, nor its power. And so when I took the mane of Kilabah in my hands, and rode him into the Temple of Jann and destroyed the book that held the god imprisoned, Kilabah did not disappear, and when Maghrib saw that Kilabah did not disappear, he tried to destroy her, but I fought back. When the fire from the city had settled, I discovered that Kilabah was no longer real, but now was within me."

"And so the world I see, I see with the eyes of Kilabah, the spirit of truth and vengeance."

Kalas said: "I, too, have been tricked by the gods, for as I gave myself to Zahr and to her rhapsodies of eternal love, so have I been thrown aside by my own muse, to be given to the darkness of a past now forgotten."

"What of this Fallen Cave, child Durr?"

And the child Durr responded: "Wrought by the hands of the ancient ones who built this place, it exists as only a dream, but I have seen the hearts of the guards, for although they are creatures of another time, they are also bound to this prison, perhaps more deeply than us, for they were brought by the Red King from the unknown. And they know of the Fallen Cave, and every night they dream of visiting its terraced gardens of sabur trees and fountains of gold. And I know of where this place is, but it is perilous, and when we arrive there, you may that the world you once knew is no longer the world now."

And so with a single and simple nod from Kalas, they departed, in search of the Fallen Cave. For seven years they searched, and as they searched, Kalas saw that the boy did not grow any older, and Kalas saw that his bones did not strain from the search either. And one day, they found the crack in the wall of the prison, and they entered the Fallen Cave, to be forgotten even by the prison with no name.

The cave glittered with the gold of ancient sunsets and the silver of the elder rivers. And then they came upon a dusty mirror, and upon looking within it they saw a scene of a beauteous land, covered in the greenery of forests and the parchment of clouds. And Kalas felt the breath of the wind on his cheek, and he saw that the cave had disappeared, and a blue sky shone above him.

And old man approached him, coming from behind pillar, and he was dressed in the garb of a sorcerer of the lands of Munkar, which is said to be the oldest land of sorcerers in all the land. He wore a sad face, and a brow wrinkled by the pain of something great. And he spoke to Kalas, and said: "You are my descendent, Kalas of the land beneath, and today you shall come to understand your fate."

And Kalas stood by, amazed at what he heard, and he felt a boiling in his head, and then a resounding memory came streaming back to him, a rush of feeling, of forgotten sensations. And his life became as a single stone at the bottom of the lake, and he became filled with the water, and then he knew the names of all of the stones in that lake, and all of the creatures, and even the name of every wave that passed onto the beach of the lakeshore. He stumbled back and fell onto a pile of gold, and he struggled to maintain consciousness. But the old man walked forward, put his hand on the shoulder of Kalas, and his mind became calm once more, and the lake was no longer a storm.

The old man finally said: "You have a great task ahead of you, Kalas of the land beneath, for you must find the tree Mir, beneath the mountain Kal, and you must take the branch which is to be entrusted to you and revive the lands of Ad. And only once this is done, then you shall be free of your burden, and then you may return to the city of Amun-Kal, to receive what is rightfully your freedom."

Kalas replied: "I understand, father of Ad. It shall be done as you say."

And then Kalas awoke from the dream of the mirror, and he stared at the boy, and Durr knew what was in his heart. And the child Durr said: "I shall not travel with you, Kalas of the land beneath, for my destiny lies elsewhere." And a great sadness filled the voice of Durr, and he held Kalas once more. "Perhaps now, you will understand the vision I have had, Kalas."

And Kalas said: "Soon, I shall."

And so they departed that place, and when they came to the room which split in two, with two staircases, one going to the world of men, and one going to the world beneath, the child Durr held Kalas one last time, and ascended the stairs to the world of men. And he said: "I shall disappear now, Kalas, and no longer will you know me. The child Durr will no longer remain, but with rejoin the world of man."

And Kalas said: "I shall meet my destiny, boy. I wish you the best." And then Kalas set to the world beneath.

And Kalas walked and walked, until he came to the River of Life, which flowed beneath like fresh honey, and he drank of the water and knew where he was to go. And so he walked upwards, to the center of the river, along the bank of darkness, with only his vision to guide him.

And so it is said in the night palaces of the Licidian Desert, by the Khalia who sing songs with their lips and play the strings of the jaded jadim with their hands, of the man known as the Anointer, who was the first man to taste immortality, and to give it to other mortal men.

For myself, this story is what the Anointer himself told me, in the last years of his life, during the Serpent Wars when the desert united against the Serpent Army of the south, and so this story is as accurate as the words from his mouth. However accurate that is, you must judge for yourself.