Sunrise Gate

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Today, the market is calm. Murmurs cloud the air, the soft pounding of stall construction echos throughout the square. Merchants cling and clatter, organizing their goods and counting inventory - soaking the mildew from the few odds and ends they left to fend in the night. Two giant concrete hawks arch over Sunrise Gate opposite me, their beaks only a foot or two from touching; it is too early for the sun to bridge the gap. I scan the square from the safety of my alleyway. There is no crowd, not now. Hymir’s statue stares to me from square’s center, his mallet clashing anvil. I imagine the sparks igniting, illuminating the shadows, purging the lands of Rah from turmoil, strike by strike, beat by endless beating. God of the Forge, founder of the city of Ebonhawke, and Arbiter of the Guardians. I stand erect, saluting, and swear my loyalty as my parents had done time and time again when we came to the market. “For you I defend Ebonhawke. For humanity I give my life.” Their words burned forever in my mind.

“Care to explain why ya salutin’ the Arbiter from the likes of an alley, my black haired friend?” An old fellow, strong and hardy but grey to the beard appears from the edge of the alley. He is wearing the Guardian’s Standard - black armor highlighted with gold. The chest is printed with a hawk stretching its wings, the symbol of Ebonhawke.

“Lynx!” I scorn, tumbling from salute, “Don’t do that to me, you damn fool.”

“My apologies, my tom boy gal -”

“I have a name,” I bark, harsher than I would have liked.

“Right, my white eyed - er, ah…”

He’s choking up now. For a commander, second to no one but Arbiter Hymir, he should never lose his poise - but he can’t hold it around me. Old man lost his best, and only, friend the same day I lost my father. And my Mother. Don’t be mistaken, however, I’d rather my back be to a Sabre than to anyone other than Lynx. The thought sits for a minute, He was only trying to be friendly, I realize. Something you should try more. I stand at ease, “Lyra.” I am calm.

“Of course. I….”

“It’s okay, Lynx. I’m just on the edge today.”

“Wasn’t hard to see that, with the whole alley business. Say what are ya doin’ here anyways?”

It is not often Lynx runs into me out of the training grounds. Every day I come to this alley. Every day I look to Hymir, I look to Sunrise Gate, I look to the past. I remember the past. I see Lynx by the gate. I hear his raspy, defeated voice. I hear the reluctance, the lies covering the truth.

Lynx watches my trance, sees my eyes searching, my brows furrow. He notices I’m not in the black and gold standard, but a steel plated white armor, accented in reds. He snaps, “What are you doing out of standard?”

The gate is possessing me, “Do you remember that day?”

“Don’t change the topic, Lyra,” his face is stone, he is struggling to suppress the memories. His voice is unsteady, shaking, “Answer me. That’s an order.”

“I am. Think,” I say, cold and saddened.

“No, you will explain.”

My gaze turns to him, “You know the answer.”

“Then explain it to me like I’m a five-year-old.” He has lost all friendliness. Why? I think, realizing, he can think, but he is choosing not to. He has to. “My mother, by the gate, Forgemaster Adam.” I try to provoke him.

“Don’t be cryptic!” The edge of his voice is sharp.

“My father’s surprise, waited months and months and months for this.” I can see his face melting, he’s losing control.  

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” his eyes are locked on the gate.

“You chose the color.” He jolts. Let the memories flow, I curse him.

He is lost in thought, whispering the past aloud, “Your father’s big surprise… a gift to your mother. Years of work finding that dark steel. He searched and scoured every lead he could get,” he pauses, shocked. “I let him see classified files on the location of nodes. I led him to them. We mined them side by side.” His eyes flickered, scanning the images passing through his mind, “I told him, no color but radiant white, accent the armor in red and gray to show her ferocity but to remain illusive.”

Tears come to the eye, and I don’t stop them.

He stops and waits. Looks to me, back to the gate. Wild, teary eyed, exhausted. “Adam finished the armor for your father just before they left… just in time for your mother to wear it,” Lynx was out of breath; the memories are hard on him too.

“I finally grew into it,” I force a teary chuckle, but neither of us want to laugh. Instead we stand in silence, each bearing our own weight, perhaps a force too heavy to handle. But we remain standing. We look out of the alleyway, side by side and into the market. The sun lingers on the horizon. Stalls are beginning to finish.

“Your parents served well,” Lynx began slowly, “fulfilled their pledge, you know.” He pauses, looking to me for a response. I can only look at him with disgust.

“Were they just pawns to you then?” I am not angry. I am calm, calculated, collected, “Just tools to use until their pledge was fulfilled.” My fists clench, jaw grinding, the rage mounts in me. I am calm.

“Pawns?” he says in monotone, unsure of my hostility. “Lyra, I don’t know your angle, but I can assure this: They were best damn scouts Ebonhawke will ever see. And your father the best damn friend I’ll ever know. And I’ll die knowing that.”

I release my fists and relax, “You’re right.” I slink into myself, sheepish for such accusations.

Lynx brushed his foot on the ground, kicking some dust into the air. He looked up and waited. “You know, I’d bet my house Hymir himself intervened that day. The skies, they just radiated.”

“And that’s a nice thought but a bet you’ll lose. The Gods left us centuries ago, remember that?”

“Perhaps they did. Or perhaps they’re just watching; waiting for something…” he breaks from the sky and looks to me,  gives me a nudge, “or someone.”

“Don’t get excited no-” Too late, he’s lost.

“Someday, someday perhaps when this all is finally behind us, you’ll lead the scouts as your parents did. In your Mother’s armor and Hymir looking down upon you smiling.”

“Lynx!” A soldier across the square raises his arms in frustration, “Let’s go, training time!”

“Aye! Keep pace, I’ll be there immediately!” He turns to me, “second in command’s callin’, perhaps we should make way for the barracks.” He turns, but the absence of a soldier next to him forces a pause. He looks to me still standing in the alley, “Look Lyra, take the day to yourself. Get some air in ya, go for a walk, find a person to talk to. Get out and do something. No training. And no standing and staring. It’s one thing to remember, another to haunt.” He takes a second to add, “And that’s an order.” He’s direct, calm, focused - his normal self.

“I will. Thank you, Lynx.” The weight lightens a bit, enough to move free. He leaves in a jog after the soldier. I watch him run, turning the corner and disappearing. The sun has risen fast now bridging the gap between the eagle’s beaks - soon the town will rise and come to the market. I leave my alley, pass under Hymir, and walk in the direction of Sunrise Gate. The sun is warm today.