Reckoning of the Gods: Dreamwalker - Chapter 1
Chapter 1 - Anshar
Author’s Note: Please enjoy the first chapter from Reckoning of the Gods: Dreamwalker, a fantasy/mythology series that I have been writing for well over a decade.
Author’s Note: This is a first draft, so please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes.
A skeletal body slumped on an enormous, crumbling throne. Seven sons and daughters attended this fallen king, their eyes downcast and their moods somber. Aside from the constant howl of the mountain wind, there was utter silence. Faint beams of light traced across the cavernous room, highlighting the fallen splendor of the Dreamwalkers. Once, this room would gather hundreds of their kin from all corners of the world to feast, celebrate, and renew their common dream–find the Nameless God. Now, only shadows and snow kept them company.
Outside of this throne room, the few remaining Dreamwalker tribes awaited word from Mura, the last Triarch, but he had uttered his final words a few moments ago. As Mura Kai Anshar stared at his father’s corpse, he pondered his father’s final thoughts, weighing their meaning carefully.
“Go to Galetop. Find Zu.”
In his entire life, Anshar had barely spoken to his father. Nevertheless, there was a deep sorrow that filled Anshar’s soul as hope had been snuffed out for all the Dreamwalkers. Their god was lost, their Triarchs were dead, and soon their powers would be lost forever.
Mura Vex Qusso, the eldest of the seven, was the first to speak.
“Good riddance,” he said, turning to leave. Along with Mura Ong Ziva and Mura Esh Tran, Qusso left the room without another word. Like so many other Dreamwalkers of late, Qusso, Ziva, and Tran had finally abandoned the never-ending search for the Nameless God, the father of all Dreamwalkers. Over the past few millenia, almost all of the Dreamwalkers had lost their faith, finding new purpose as sellswords, soothsayers, or worse. Anshar wanted to hate them, but he couldn’t. His own faith held on by a single thread.
“Cowards,” muttered Mura Kai Yuri as they left the throne room. Anshar’s twin sister had a sharp tongue and a sharper blade, but Anshar wondered if she was mistaken. Was it cowardly to leave behind your home, your people, and your whole reason for being? Perhaps, Anshar and the remaining Dreamwalkers were the real cowards for not accepting that the Nameless God had probably abandoned them long ago.
“Go to Galetop. Find Zu,” muttered Mura Nil Osur, the second eldest. He seemed to be weighing the meaning of each word as carefully as Anshar.
Osur’s rugged physique, dark brown hair, and sharp wit belied his age. Various scars and tattoos were the only reminders that he had walked this world for several lifetimes. Osur was the closest thing that Anshar had to a father, and although the headstrong Dreamwalker would never admit it, Anshar was the closest he had to a son.
Osur ascended crumbling steps to an enormous throne that towered above scattered tables, broken chairs, fallen banners, and cracked pillars. The stone throne had been designed for a god, and even a Dreamwalker like Osur was no larger than a small child in comparison. Without any perceivable effort, Osur lifted his father and carried him to the three other Dreamwalkers. One by one, the Dreamwalkers kissed their father gently on his forehead and said their private prayers to the Nameless God. Finally, Osur led a prayer to Nergal, the god of Death, asking for safe passage to the Eternal City on behalf of their father. When the prayer finished, Osur laid his father down on a nearby table and draped his cloak over Mura’s body, while the Dreamwalkers finished their discussion.
“Go to Galetop. Find Zu,” repeated Mura Nil Osur. “I have never heard of this Zu. I could consult the lifestream and find out who or what they are, but that would take time.”
“Time is something we do not have,” said Mura Vall Nyx, draping her cloak over her father as well. “Our people await our decision. Many have left with Qusso already, but many more will leave unless we can assure them that hope still remains.”
If Osur was the leader of the group, Nyx was the rebel and the closest thing Anshar had to a mother. Unlike the other three Dreamwalkers, Nyx preferred a simpler attire. She did not wield a forked blade like Osur or armor like Yuri. She did not indulge in lavish dress or expensive adornments. Her flowing white hair was her only distinguishing feature, but despite her unassuming appearance, Vall was both a tactical genius and a master of spies.
“What hope do you speak of?” asked Mura Kai Yuri.
Despite being Anshar’s older twin sister, Yuri could not have been more different from her brother. Yuri’s blunt personality was reflected in her close-cropped hair and her padded bone cuirass. Her tongue was as sharp and dangerous as any weapon, and her icy blue eyes could make any warrior tremble.
“Our hope stands before you,” said Osur. “While Anshar is alive, hope is alive. Our father spent his final moments seeking an answer to Suphah’s call. We must embrace the unknown and accept Suphah’s offer. We cannot afford to spend any more time waiting here.”
“So, this is to be our fate?” asked Yuri. “Trust the visions of our dying father and pray this is not a trap?”
Osur scoffed, shaking his head at Yuri.
“We will go to Galetop, and if possible, find this Zu. Nevertheless, it would be unwise to take all of our people to Suphah’s realm. For as you say, this could be a trap. I suggest that Anshar remains here along with half our warriors and anyone else unfit to travel.”
For his entire life, Anshar had been dying to see the outside world. The chance to travel to a distant land, to meet an actual goddess was finally in reach, but his own family stood in his way.
“I agree with Osur,” said Nyx. “You are far too valuable to risk, Anshar. As the youngest descendant of Mura, you carry all of our hopes.”
“But…” said Anshar.
“The matter is settled,” interrupted Osur. “You will stay here. Yuri, Nyx, and I will travel with the Immir to Galetop and discover the identity of this Zu. We will send word once we arrive.”
“Yuri should be the one who stays!” said Anshar. “She’s more of a leader than I.”
From the look on Yuri’s face, the truth cut her deeply, and she hid her face in the shadows for a moment. Osur was about to speak when Nyx shared her thoughts.
“Your sister is a leader, for certain, but you are a symbol, Anshar. You are the last true heir of the last Triarch. If you were to die or disappear, the Dreamwalkers would be scattered forever. This is our best and only hope of finding the Nameless God. Surely, that is worth some inconvenience to you.”
Anshar’s anger turned to embarrassment as he weighed’s Nyx’s words. She spoke the truth, even if it was a hard truth. Of course, Anshar had not earned his place as a symbol. It was something that he had been handed from birth, and the true struggle was deciding what kind of symbol he wanted to be.
Anshar thought the conversation was over, but Nyx continued.
“Nevertheless, I understand your frustration, and to that end, I see this as an opportunity to educate you.”
Osur’s brow furrowed as his half-sister continued.
“I know you want to see the world for yourself, but I have already seen it. I could stay behind and teach you many things while we wait for Osur, Yuri, and the others to return. I think this is a fair compromise, wouldn’t you agree, Osur?”
Osur nodded, although he seemed only half-convinced.
A few months without Osur and Yuri sounded refreshing, so despite his misgivings, Anshar agreed to their plan.
“I’m glad the matter is settled,” said Osur. “Let us share our decision.”
“The people await,” agreed Nyx. “If we still have any people,” she muttered to Anshar.
The other three Dreamwalkers left the throne room, but Anshar remained. Anshar approached his father, who looked peaceful in his eternal repose. He wondered how long it would take for his father’s spirit to reach the Eternal City. He wondered if his uncles, Seva and Vola, would welcome Mura. Lastly, Anshar wondered if the Nameless God knew that his children were dead. He wondered if the Nameless God even cared.