Ascension, Chapter 9

The final chapter of this section of Ascension! Where did the time go? This is definitely not the way that I planned for this to turn out, and I can't cay that I'm completely happy with it so far. There's some major rewrites in the future, but that's part of the joy of writing; nothing's ever finished until it goes to print, and often not even then.
 In the mean time, I'm going to keep chipping away at this. What you've been reading so far is really only the set up of a much larger story, kind of like an origin story in comic books. We've got the world, we've got the characters. Or, rather, we've got the first major setting, and we've got the first set of characters. And, in a little bit, the excrement is going to start dismantling the fan in an extreme way.
 I hope you've enjoyed it so far; keep checking back for updates every Wednesday and Sunday, and feel free to comment on the story so far!

Chapter 9

 ‘How do you feel?’

 Naren looked up as the door to the medical bay opened, and Gawen walked in, a tray of bottles held in his elderly hands. He sat up, puching the thin white sheet away from his body.

 ‘I’m fine,’ he said, as Gawen placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the narrow bed.

 ‘You collapsed in front of the entire court,’ Gawen pointed out.

 ‘That was ages ago-’

 ‘Two hours,’ Gawen interjected.

 ‘-I’m fine now, really.’ Naren said.

 ‘Was he angry?’ he asked after a moment, as Gawen sorted through the bottles on the tray.

 ‘Your father?’ the old man asked. Naren nodded.

 ‘His lordship was concerned, like the rest of us,’ Gawen said.

 ‘You’re a terrible liar,’ Naren said, sinking back onto the bed.

 ‘As are you, if you expect me to believe that you feel ‘fine’,’ Gawen countered.

 ‘It’s just a bit of a headache,’ Naren said.

 ‘You will adapt to the background noise eventually, Naren,’ Gawen spun, his robes flapping around him like the wings of a dishevelled bird. He bowed deeply to the queen, who stood in the open doorway. Naren sprang off the bed, stumbled, and fell. Gawen caught him, supporting the boy as he returned him to the bed.

 ‘I wouldn’t try to move too quickly,’ his mother said, sweeping into the room.

 ‘My lady,’ Gawen bowed again ‘I was just beginning to examine the prince in order to determine the nature of his Blessing.’

 ‘There is no need, Gawen,’ the queen replied, barely glancing at the elderly healer.

 ‘I was with Naren as his power awakened. His telepathic potential is quite remarkable.’

 ‘Telepathy?’ Naren echoed.

 ‘Are you sure, my lady? I have yet to carry out the tests-’

 ‘I would have thought that you would no better than to question me on such matters, Gawen,’ the queen replied.

 ‘Yes, yes. Of course, my lady. Well, I shall send word to the Faceless immediately, so that a proper instructor can be found for his highness.’

 ‘There will be no need for that, either, Gawen. I shall instruct the boy myself.’

 ‘You, my lady?’

 ‘I was a cleric of the priestess in my youth, if you remember, Gawen. I am more than qualified.’ The Queen's smile, as always, failed to quite reach her eyes.

 ‘Yes, my lady.’ Gawen bowed his head.

 ‘You have something to say, Naren?’ his mother asked. Naren jumped. He had been sat in silence during this exchange.

 ‘I-’ he began. What could he say? His mother had mentioned background noise, but Naren couldn’t hear anything. Or could he? Was the vague humming a sign of his Blessing, or was it an after effect of his collapse? Or was he simply imagining it? He hadn’t noticed the sound before his mother arrived. ‘Are you sure?’

 ‘Sure?’ the queen raised a single, immaculate eyebrow.

 ‘About my Blessing. That I’m a telepath.’

 ‘Of course, my darling,’ he mother said with a gentle laugh. Naren tried to remember the last time she had called him darling. ‘Absolutely.’

 ‘But I don’t feel any different,’ he said.

‘Are you sure?’ she prompted.

 ‘I-’ he hesitated again.

 ‘Gawen, would you assist us?’ The queen turned to the healer.

 ‘Of course, my lady.’

 ‘Focus on Gawen, dear,’ she said, coming to stand behind him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

 ‘Feel his thoughts inside yours.’

 Naren closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate. This was absurd, he knew; he had no idea what he was doing. He had never tried to read another person’s mind before. He thought briefly of Rei, and the pain that her Blessing had caused her. He had heard stories of the suffering that telepaths had undergone in the days and weeks following their Ascension. Stories of girls who had to be restrained to stop them from trying to harm themselves as the thoughts of every person they met rushed into their heads. Stories of boys who had thrown themselves to their deaths to stop the endless streams of hopes, fears, dreams and secrets of those around them. But Naren felt no different. In fact he felt-

 Is he really ready for this? Naren tensed. It was the voice of Gawen, but he knew that the old man hadn’t spoken. Not out loud, anyway. And the voice was different, too. Louder than the healer’s normal voice, more immediate. Like talking to someone in a very small room.

  The queen must be right, of course, the voice continued. Naren was sure now that it was Gawen’s thoughts that he was hearing. It stands to reason that he could inherit his mother’s powers. But how will Lord Azrael take the news?

 It wasn’t just a single narrative of articulated, clear thoughts, either. In between the words was a seething mass of less articulated ideas and feelings. The man was surprised, Naren realised, because he hadn’t shown any of the normal signs associated with telepathy. He was concerned, too, that Naren hadn’t shown any signs of a Blessing at all. He was relieved that his mother had identified his power, and annoyed that she had gone around him in the process.

 ‘Enough,’ Naren said, his voice partially lost in the flow of thoughts from Gawen. He was aware that some of the thoughts weren’t from Gawen. A pair of guards were stood outside the room, and he could hear their thoughts- the first anticipating his dinner, the second recalling a recent visit to a certain house on the Land below- bubbling up alongside Gawen’s.

 ‘Enough!’ Naren gasped, as the conflicting voices rose up around him. How could anyone stand it? And this was just three people. What would it be like to hear the thoughts of a crowd, or the entire of Haven? No sooner had the idea entered his mind than Naren felt the minds of every person, every man, woman and child, flood into his own. He cried out, clasping his hands to his ears to try and drown out the sound, as if the noise were external rather than inside his own head.

 His mother let go of his arm, and the thoughts vanished. The silence they left behind was almost deafening, and Naren shook his head slightly. It was like emerging from a pool with water trapped in his ears.

 ‘Are you alright?’ Gawen asked. Naren nodded. The healer rushed forward then, to catch the prince as he slipped off the bed and fell once more into unconsciousness.

End of Part One.

Ascension, Chapter 8

 NaNoWriMo and Movember are over, and the moustache may be gone, but Ascension travels ever onwards. Just two more chapters until the end of the first section, and then the real story starts. I've had to divide what would have been 'Book 1' into two separate parts to make things more  straightforward, but there you go. Sometimes you have to be prepared to make adjustments, when what was meant to be the first 3 chapters of a story accidentally spills out into 10 (well, 9 and a Prologue, which isn't really a prologue anymore).
 Onwards!

 The guards were barking orders at the crowds, hurrying them through the tall archways that led through the palace to the city outside. Mari spotted her father and brother close to one of these entrances. Set, more than a head taller than their father, was scanning the crowd for her. She waved when she thought he was looking in her direction, only to be unceremoniously pushed aside by a barrel chested man with a thick ginger beard. He glared at her as the crowd swept him away.

 Mari, like the others, had seen the prince collapse after his Ascension. The uneasy silence had been broken as the guards, on some unseen order, had begun barking directions at the people assembled in the courtyard. Although Mari could hardly make out the words that were being said, the meaning was clear. Anyone who wasn’t a citizen of Haven- anyone who didn’t belong here in the floating city- had to leave. Now. 

 Mari realised then that the crowd was taking her in the wrong direction, pushcing and pulling her like the tide towards an archway on the other side of the square. She fought against the pull, desperate to reach her family.

 Mari willed herself forward, against the crush of people. She wanted to be there, not here. There, not here.

  And then Mari was everywhere.

  It was like the Ascension all over again. Mari felt herself expanding into the world around her, her mind permeating every empty space available. She wasn’t just looking down at the rapidly thinning crowds from above; she was also looking up at them from the floor. And she was also, somehow, standing beside, behind, and in front of every single person in the courtyard.

 ‘Mari!’ She heard her father’s voice call her name. The sound was almost inaudible on the other side of the courtyard,, swallowed up by the yelling and grumbling of the crowd, but practically deafening right next to him. And that was where she needed to be. All she had to do was focus; draw herself into that single empty space between her brother and father.

And then she was back in her head, back in her body.

She was stood next to Set and her father.

 ‘How did you do that?’ Set asked, as Mari stumbled into him. The world was spinning around her, and her whole body felt tight; compressed and claustrophobic after existing within the entire courtyard.

 ‘I… have no idea,’ Mari admitted.

 ‘A teleporter? Really?’ Set asked.

 ‘Well, I think my aunt was a teleporter,’ their father admitted.

 ‘Oh,’ Set grinned ‘Cool. No more walking to school.’

 ‘Come on, we’d better hurry,’ their father said, as the crowds continued to buffet them towards the exit. The courtyard was nearly empty now, except for the guards who continued to shepherd people out through the archways, and the Faceless, who hadn’t moved from their position in the centre of the courtyard.

 ‘Why bother? Can’t Mari just zap us home?’ Set asked.

 ‘Uh.’ Mari fidgeted with the sleeve of her top. The mere act of teleporting- if that was what she had done- the few metres across the courtyard had left her disorientated and exhausted. The thought of doing the same thing, over several miles, with two passengers, made her feel physically sick.

 ‘Better not risk it; we don’t want to find ourselves half way between Haven and the ground,’ their father said.

 ‘Oh, yeah,’ Set laughed uneasily ‘Splat.’ Mari grinned sheepishly, as their father led them towards the exit. They had just entered into the shadow of the hallway when Mari felt a light, but officious, tap on her shoulder.

 ‘Excuse me, miss,’ said the guard.

 ‘Yes?’ she asked. Set and her father stopped.

 ‘Come with me, miss,’

 ‘What?’ Mari began to panic. She felt a hand slip into hers, and looked up into her brother's eyes as he moved to stand between her and the guard.

 ‘Hey, she didn’t do anything,’ Set said, trying to stand between her and the guard.

 ‘No, sir,’ the guard barely glanced at Set. ‘These are orders from the Faceless.’

 ‘The Faceless?’ her father asked, casti9ng a wary glance towards the hooded figures. Two of them were looking in their direction, Mari thought, although it was impossible to tell for sure where they were looking.

 ‘Your daughter has been recruited, sir. Into the Honour Guard.’

 ‘What?’

 ‘No, she’s coming home with us,’ Set snarled.

 ‘Set,’ Mari began. The heavy lights overhead began to flicker as Set faced up to the guard. For a second Mari wondered what would happen if her brother tried to fight him. And then she realised that it wouldn’t be a fight; not really. Set might be able to talk to machines, but that was nothing compared to what the guard could do, if even half the stories she’d heard were true. It wouldn’t be a fight. It would be suicide.

 ‘Set!’ Their father snapped, as the light flickered and sparked, threatening to blow.

 ‘Set, its fine,’ Mari said, squeezing her brother’s shoulder. He blinked, the rage in his eyes giving way to a glazed look of confusion as whatever power he might have built up drained away in an instant.

 ‘Mari-’ her father began.

 ‘It’s fine, really,’ she said, moving to stand beside the guard, ‘I’ll see you soon.’

 The crowd surged forwards again, carrying Mari’s family away from her. The last she saw of them was her brother’s face as it vanished beneath the archway.

Ascension, Chapter 7

Another week, another late post. It's partially because I've been at postgraduate open days ( for Cardiff University and Goldsmiths College), so there' been a lot of dashing about. I then managed to lock myself out of my blogger account, so there was a fun 5 minutes while I went through a list of passwords trying to find the right one.
 Enough of my excuses. I'm still struggling to come up with a name for Naren's mother. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd really appreciate them.

Chapter 7

The Faceless reached the end of the final row and turned, their empty hoods raised towards the crowd gathered on the balcony. As one, they bowed low to Azrael, who returned the gesture with a slight nod of his head. There had only been a few unusual transformations. A couple of the initiates had sprouted wings, which would no doubt lead to fresh rumours about the royal family and wild oats. There was the poor girl whose Blessing had manifested as rock-like skin, and had been subdued by the Healers before being removed from the courtyard. One boy had manifested what appeared to be dozens of eyes, although he didn’t seem the least bit surprised. Probably a hereditary Blessing, Naren decided. And other than a few changes in skin and hair colour, it seemed that most of the Blessings were internal, without any visible outward signs.

 The Faceless in the courtyard gathered in a circle, no doubt comparing notes of the transformations that had taken place. For the good of the nation, those who had Ascended today would be assigned career paths dependant on their powers. Some might even be invited to remain in Haven, if they had a particularly strong or unusual Blessing. After all, it wouldn’t do to have too much power going unchecked among the commoners.

 Naren made his way to the centre of the hall. Behind him, three other initiates from noble houses stood in a semicircle. From the corner of his eye he saw the priests of the Faceless- Bishops, unlike the regular priests in the courtyard, approach the waiting children. Silence fell over the Hall.

 His mother rose from her throne and descended the steps towards him. She placed her hands on his head. As far as he could remember, Naren had never lied to his mother; there was no point. Naren had grown up with his mother’s thoughts a continual presence in his own mind. His whole life, she had been privy to his every thought, every secret, every desire. Whether he liked it or not.

 But this was different. The feeling itself was familiar, although her presence in his mind more cautiously than it ever had before. He felt her probe through his psyche gently. And then her mind darted forward, slicing through his thoughts like a knife. Naren clenched his fists. He would not- could not- show any sign of weakness. Not here, not now.

 He felt her power coil around a space at the bottom of his brain, sending a shiver down his spine. This was it. The tension increased, filling him with a roaring silence that drowned out everything else.

 And then her mind pulled back, retreating from his brain like a startled animal.

 Naren opened his eyes. His gaze locked with his mother’s. It took him a moment to decipher the look on her normally placid features. It only took her a second to recompose herself, but Naren knew what he had seen. It was shock. Shock and fear.

  His mother turned her back on him, addressing Azrael where he sat on his throne.

 ‘He is Ascended,’ she declared, her clear voice filling the silent Hall. Naren glanced behind him, and saw the Faceless retreat from the other teenagers, who’s Ascension had been completed without him even realising.

 ‘He is Ascended!’ The words were echoed by the crowd, quietly at first, and then louder and louder, until the Hall and the courtyard beyond were filled with the sound of chanting.

 Pain shot through Naren’s mind. He stumbled forwards, barely catching himself from falling to the floor. A second stab, like the blade of a heated knife, exploded behind his eyes. He locked eyes once more with his mother as she turned back towards him, before silence and darkness muffled his mind, and he sank into unconsciousness.

Ascension, Chapter 6

This week I've actually started thinking about my future! Shock and awe indeed. I'll be attending not one, but two postgraduate open days next week; one at my current university (Cardiff Uni) on Wednesday, followed by a jaunt (by which I mean a surprisingly complicated and expensive odyssey) up to London for the Goldsmith's open evening. Such fun. 
Anyway, enough about me. Things are starting to hot up a little in Ascension, don't you think? The ceremony is about to start, so our heroes are on the verge of undergoing some rather interesting changes...  

Chapter 6

 The initiates had been arranged into rows of ten. They were faced by ten priests of the Faceless. Mari and Shan were in the third row back.  Mari craned her head to the side, looking round the back of the boy in front of her to watch the first row. As one, the Faceless placed their hands above the heads of the children. A few of the initiates let out muffled groans, or tensed slightly, but mostly they remained still. After a few moments the Faceless lowered their hands.

 A girl at one end of the row let out a muffled shriek, holding her hands up in the air as her skin flushed a deep shade of purple. A boy diagonally in front of Mari sunk to his knees. The air was filled with the sound of ripping cloth as a pair of bat-like wings burst from his back, sending arcs of blood through the air. A pair of healers were beside him in a moment, gently raising him to his feet and leading him away through the crowds.

 Mari bit her lip. The rest of the row seemed unchanged by the experience. Of course, appearances could be deceptive. Only the Faceless new the transformations that were going on under the skin of the teenagers.

 By now the faceless had begun the ascension of the next row. Mari clenched her fists; it would be her turn next. The girl in front of her rose a few feet above the air as the priest withdrew its hands from her head. She floated there for a moment, before falling to the ground in a heap. A ripple of laughter rant through the crowd as another healer helped her to her feet. Mari heard Shan’s snort of derision above the noise.

 And then it was Mari’s turn.

 The hooded figure placed its hands gently on her head. Mari braced herself for the intrusion of another mind into her own. It was something that they whispered about in the village; the older children revelling in the looks of horror on the faces of the younger ones as they described the experience. The physical pain of Ascension was one thing; the rapid transformation from a body that was almost human to one that was so much more. But having your very soul exposed to another person, having that force rip into the depths of your mind in order to tease out the spark of divinity and ignite it. That was something else entirely.

 But when it came Mari hardly noticed at first. It was a slight pressure, a feeling of grogginess, like the onset of a headache or a cold, and then she felt it. A gentle probing.

 Mari was in the kitchen. Her mother stood at the stove, stirring a pot. The cupboard opened, and a pot gently floated through the air until it reached her mother’s elbow. She turned, and saw Mari watching her. She smiled, reached for the pot-

 The vision faded, and Mari felt the alien mind retract slightly. The apology didn’t come in words. It was more a gentle feeling of regret and embarrassment. Mari did her best to think positive thoughts.

 And then something clicked. Somehow, along the way, the mind of the priest had found what it was looking for.

 Mari’s mind turned inside out. She could see everything, hear everything, feel everything around her. It wasn’t just that she was aware of her surroundings. She knew how thick the wall surrounding the courtyard was. She knew what the temperature was like in the corridor on the other side. She knew how wide it was. And that was just one direction of space. Mari could feel all of the spaces around her for a hundred metres, two hundred, a kilometre.

 And then her mind was shrinking again, retracting back to the single point of her body. It took her a moment to realise that it was the priest that was drawing her back, wrapping her expanding conscious tightly round her physical body.

 Mari felt the mind retreat from her own. She opened her eyes, and looked into the empty hood of the faceless. It nodded slightly, and stepped back. The whole experience had lasted for little more than a minute.

 ‘No, No!’ the cry broke through the peace that had settled on Mari mind. For a moment the panic didn’t fully register. What could possibly be wrong, after all, in this wonderful, beautiful world?

 And then she saw Shan sink to her knees out of the corner of her eye. The other girl held her hands up to her face, a groan of horror escaping her lips. Shan’s skin, which moments before had been a healthy, glowing olive colour, had become a pale grey, covered in a smooth, hard surface that cracked with every moment. Shan let her hands drop from her face, revealing a surface like an unfinished statue; a vague sense of human features hidden under harsh lines and irregular cracks.

 Shan let out a cry that echoed around the courtyard, and began to tug at the rocky flesh of her arms in a desperate attempt to peel it off. Within moments she was surrounded by healers and members of the Faceless, and her cries soon faded to whimpering sobs, and then to silence.

 Mari’s last sight of her cousin was only a brief glimpse as she was carried away through the crowds by the healers.

Ascension, Chapter 5

 Ok, it's a couple of days late. Sorry, sorry. I've officially accepted that I'm going to fail at NaNo this year, considering that I'd have to write about 2,500 words every day to reach my goal of 30,000 words. Hate to say it, but the degree has to come first. The good news, though, is that I'm still committed to Ascension, and I fully intend to keep posting a minimum of two chapters a week until I finish the first volume. So yay for commitment!
 This chapter is dedicated to Saskia Greenhalgh and Jack Parker, whose comments made my day.

Chapter 5

Naren hurried through the corridors of the palace, keeping to the passages frequented by the servants in order to avoid being spotted by any visiting dignitaries or important guests. He tried to ignore the covert glances of servants and guards as he hurried past. He paused in front of an inconspicuous door, knocked, and entered.

 His father stood in front of the window, the wings folded at his back like a cloak. He barely turned when Naren entered, and only acknowledged him with the slightest nod of his head. Rei and his mother were in deep conversation at a small table, which they broke off as soon as he entered.

 ‘Darling!’ his mother said, rising to her feet and enveloping him in an embrace. She wore the purple robe of a cleric of the Faceless, augmented with a few pieces of jewellery. She had left the order to marry Azrael, although she could still claim certain rights as a member of its order. Like the Ascension of her son.

 ‘M-mother,’ Naren stammered, as she released him. They stood facing each other, her hands resting on his shoulders. He tried to remember the last time that she had hugged him, or even touched him for more than a passing moment.

‘Such a wonderful day,’ she said, finally letting go of him. Behind her, Naren caught his reflection in a floor length mirror. Despite multiple fittings, the military uniform still hung awkwardly on his body. He was growing too fast for the tailors to catch up, he supposed, so that his wrists and ankles were exposed where the fabric wasn’t long enough. But the gold piping and the black shoes gleamed in the light from the window, and his dirty blond hair had been arranged into what could pass as a sort of order.

 ‘You look just like Cristo, my darling boy,’ his mother murmured, following his gaze to the mirror.

 ‘He would be proud, wouldn’t he, darling?’ she turned to Azrael, who still stood by the window.

 ‘It’s time,’ Azrael said, leaving the window and heading towards the large door at the other end of the ante-chamber.

 ‘Do not let me down,’ he said, addressing Naren for the first time. He took his wife’s hand.

 ‘Anything I should know?’ he muttered to his sister, as she came to stand behind him.

 ‘Wait and see, little brother,’ she said, as the door opened and they followed their father into the hall.

Ascension, Chapter 4

Somehow, the threat of impending assessment has actually hindered me in doing any work whatsoever. Not just on the novel, but in absolutely everything. Perhaps I'm just developing one massive mental block? The good news is that I've finally got round to editing the University's Creative Writing Anthology, which will hopefully be with us in time for Christmas (we were originally hoping for the Christmas fair, but that's on December 5th, so we'd be increadibly lucky to get everything done by then).
 Anywho, here's the next chapter of Ascension:

Chapter 5

‘Are you nervous?’ Mari whispered, as they were lead along the corridor. The other teenagers pressed against them, and Mari was struggling to keep alongside Shan as they walked.

 ‘Why would I be nervous?’ Shan asked, glancing down at Mari. They had left their parents and Set when they entered the palace grounds.

 ‘What if something goes wrong?’ Mari said. A boy a little taller than her pushed between them, the toe of his boot crushing her ankle in the process. Mari bit her lip, and fought the urge to reach out for Shan’s hand.

 ‘What could go wrong?’ Shan asked, as Mari drew level with her again ‘It’s Assension. Everybody does it.’

 ‘Yes, but what if we Ascend and turn into giant slugs. Or grow a hundred eyes. Or something.’

 ‘Oh, that won’t happen.’ Shan shrugged.

 ‘But how-’

 ‘Oh, I just do Mari,’ Shan snapped, glaring at her cousin ‘Stop being such a little baby and grow up, for Mother’s sake.’

 They were led into the courtyard. The upper levels of the pyramid rose above them to one side. Mari could see where a large section of wall had been removed about ten feet up, allowing the nobles inside the building to look down over the heads of the crowd below. She could see them in their finery, milling about in the cool shade of the building.

 A crowd had gathered around the edges of the square, leaving a large area clear around the statue that stood at the centre. Mari wondered briefly who the statue was meant to represent. Some member of the royal family, probably. Perhaps a former Lord of Death?

 Mari spotted her father and Set, as well as her aunt. The two men smiled and waved when they aw her, while her aunt remained completely expressionless, except for an air of disdain directed at the rest of the audience around her.

 Mari and the other teenagers- about a hundred in all- were guided to the centre of the courtyard. They were then redirected, positioned into rows so that each boy and girl was a little over arm’s length from the people either side or in front of them.

 They stood in silence for a moment, before a heavy metal gong sounded somewhere in the cavernous depths of the palace. Almost as one, the assembled crowds in the courtyard turned their attention to the open wall of the hall above their heads.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Ascension, Chapter 3

 It's only taken half the month, but I think I've finally hit my stride with the NaNo. Of course, this is coming the day before I get my essay pack for this term, which means that the real work is about to start (the five hours a day spent in the library so far being just the warm-up).
 I've really struggled with coming up with names, which actually gave me an opportunity to use the NaNo Coach on Twitter, a lovely lady who recommended an excellent database. Now that most of the major characters have names, things seem to be progressing much more smoothly. Of course, I may decide to rename any and/or all of the characters later on, but at least I'm not using 'Bob' and 'Dave' to fill in the blanks any more.
 I's also finding, as usual for me, that things are easier once I get the 'scene-setting' part of the story out of the way. I know that a story should be interesting from the start, but I often find the first chapters a bit of a drag to write (their often the ones that get really heavily rewritten in later drafts).
 And so, without further ado, I present the next instalment of Ascension:


Chapter 3

 Naren stood behind the curtains, his eye to a gap in the heavy fabric. The Hall was a hive of activity, with servants and officials darting back and forth across the cavernous space. The audience, many of whom had been present at the feast the night before, had already started to filter in, sitting and standing in the areas that had been cordoned off around the edge of the hall. Some of them had travelled miles, hundreds of miles, to be here. There were representatives from every corner of the Empire, and the Hall could have been used to teach a geography lesson on local customs and costumes from across the nation.

 The screen that made up one of the side walls had been folded back, allowing the congregation to view the courtyard below. The noise of the crowd below filtered in through the wide opening, mingling with the more subdued conversation and music of the Hall.N aren's own Ascension- and that of the other noble children- would only take place once the representatives from the local area had already undergone the ceremony outside.

 ‘Nervous?’ Naren turned, startled at the voice. Gawen stood behind him, the dim light gleaming on his golden skin. Naren had once seen a statue of an ancient human god; a fat man dressed in robes, with an oversized belly and a grin that was balanced between comical and creepy. To Naren, Gawen had always seemed like a copy of that statue, cast in gold and brought to life. Naren smiled, relaxing slightly.

 ‘A little,’ he admitted.

 ‘It’s a big day; you’ve reason to be a little scared,’ Gawen said, coming to stand beside him and pushing the curtains further open. Although the man was fifty years his senior, Gawen head hardly reached Naren's shoulder.

 ‘That’s reassuring,’ Narren said, ‘I thought you’d tell me I had nothing to worry about.

 ‘You’re old enough and intelligent enough to be spared babying,’ the elderly healer murmured.

 ‘Mother, what a fuss,’ he said, gazing out at the tumult, ‘Then again, it’s not every day that sees the Ascension of a future Lord of Death.’

 The words cut through Naren's stomach like a sword, and he tasted bile in the back of his throat. He let out a long, hissing breath, the air rattling between his clenched teeth.

 ‘But what if I’m not-’

 ‘Not powerful enough? You will be,’ Gawen said, smiling gently.

 ‘You can’t know that,’ Naren countered.

‘Of course not, but look at the evidence; in five generations, the house of Mori have been nothing less than the most powerful among the People,’ Gawen placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder ‘It’s in your blood. Look at your brother and sister.’

 ‘Besides, I’ll be there, just in case,’ Gawen added. Naren nodded. He recalled, dimly, the scene five years ago, when Cristo and Rei had undergone their own Ascension. Cristo, naturally, had born the transformation easily, had been applauded for the strength and restraint he exhibited. Rei, however, had found it much more difficult. Naren remembered seeing her in her bedroom, lying on her front with her wings in the special cast that the healers had devised, moaning in pain as her bones grew hollow. He recalled also the girl’s sobs as visions of the future had forced themselves into her newly awakened mind, and the soothing murmur of their mother’s voice as she tried to calm her. He remembered how she had looked up, her eyes settling on him with a look of pure hatred, and, finally, the door to her bedroom closing in his face.

There was silence on the other side of the curtain. It's cause was obvious when Naren looked through the gap in the curtain. The large double doors at one end of the hall had swung open, and a procession of hooded figures had entered, gliding silently across the floor. The priests of the Faceless glided across the hall, arranging themselves in a semi-circle in front of Azrael’s empty throne. Naren repressed a shudder. No one trusted the Faceless; whose vows of silence and unparalleled telepathic abilities made them unnerving at best, and terrifying at worst. There were no secrets when the Faceless were present.

 ‘You should join your family; the ceremony will start soon,’ Gawen said, slipping through the curtain and into the hall beyond, ‘It wouldn’t do for a prince to miss his own Ascension.’