Phoenix13: Redemption (Phoenix13 Book 2)

Part #7: The Judgement of Zephyr: Chapter Two

"Was?" Kalligan murmured, abandoning the strange, melodious words that had sprung to his lips at the sight of the shining city sprawled below. The language was of Amaranth, that he knew. Àmandinian, the tongue of the Gods. And I'm a God, he realized; in that instant the full impact of all that he had seen and heard in the Timeworld hit him. He nearly fell to his knees again from the shock of it. Zephyr of Amaranth, he thought numbly. The fallen God.

"You burned her," Arken said quietly, his gaze returning to the gleaming civilization. The ivory buildings seemed to glow with a light all their own. The sky held no sun, moon, or stars, and yet the soaring white towers and shimmering topaz fountains sparkled as if bathed in the heat of a bright summer's day. "You razed her to the ground, ripped her open jaroa akana eshira-harnt mérkakis sarishana (until the motherland herself bled). You were lost, Zephyr, taken by the furious madness of your ruined soul. Exiled and dishonored, broken and desperate, you destroyed the most beautiful and pure realm this universe has ever known." His tone was perfectly neutral, cold and detached, as if he were simply repeating a fact he'd recited a thousand times before.

"I know," Kalligan replied, and as he looked down at Amaranth, his homeland, he felt his eyes burn with grief and shame. Tears streaked down his cheeks, hot and fast as they dripped off his chin. Leaving tracks on his face and across his tarnished heart. "How could I do that, Arken?" He whispered, his voice breaking on the God's name. "I don't understand. Please, help me understand. I couldn't, please, tell me I didn't..."

With an animalistic snarl, Arken seized him forcibly by the shoulders and spun them around so that Kalligan hung out over the tower's edge. "I was your friend, Zephyr," he said. "We all were. And you betrayed us." Arken's voice was flat, void of emotion or variation, but his grey eyes roiled with fury and hatred. "This isn't punishment. This isn't vengeance." His grip loosened, and Kalligan slipped in his grasp, gasping and shaking with fear and shock. A snarl contorted Arken's lips. His voice sunk to a contemptuous hiss. "This is justice."

Kalligan screamed as Arken released him, the sound stolen from his lungs by the shrieking of the wind and the weight of terror crushing his chest. As he tumbled toward the city far below, just before he hit the ground, the last thing he saw were two points of stormy gray watching him from the tower-top. There was no warmth in Arken's gaze; no hope, no light. Just cold, dark, terrible satisfaction. And in that moment, Kalligan was not afraid to die. If he was truly the monster the Gods believed him to be, then there was no punishment on earth or torture in hell that would be cruel enough to redeem him.

There is no redemption, Zephyr. A familiar female voice rang inside his head as he hit the ground. Deyanira's words were like molten silver flowing white-hot in his veins. Kalligan's vision faded and blood bubbled at the back of his throat. Not for you. Not now, not ever. His body went limp, fingers uncurling and head lolling helplessly on blood-spattered marble tiles. You are ruined, Zephyr, she hissed. You are ruined.

. . . . . .

"Zephyr! Akrin, Zephyr! Zeyin!"

Kalligan's eyes opened slowly, his senses returning in a confused haze of color, sound, and sensation. His Amaranthine name, for once uttered without hatred or disgust brought him back from the verge of unconsciousness like a hook dragging a fish from the ocean's depths. He lifted his head, shaking it groggily and reaching up to rub his eyes with both fists. As his vision returned, he realized that he was lying in the middle of a vast city square. He was sprawled on huge ivory tiles, surrounded on all sides by tall pillared buildings. Around him children and teenagers clad entirely in white ran and played, screeching and giggling happily as they tossed a glowing golden ball roughly the size of a man's head between them. Although they caught it with grace and ease, it appeared to be made of gilded stone or solid gold, sailing through the air with great whooshes and landing with heavy thuds.