Chapter 28 - Pei's Tale, Part 2: Kinar

“The world ended in times of yore,” the Professor said, “on the day Antiria fell. The Great Sea rose and swallowed the green mountains that surround the fair White City, devouring with roaring waters the Temple of the Goddess and the Golden Pyramid, which were forever lost to mankind. The whole planet moaned with unending pain as the soaring light come from the Tower of Og rose up to the heavens and brought forth the Rain of Fire, which destroyed many kingdoms with its peoples and its customs. Earthquakes shattered the earth, mountains crumbled down as if they were made of sand, and new lands rose up from the waters creating barren deserts where there were seas before. Whole civilizations disappeared and species of flora and fauna vanished from Earth entirely. The people of Faë fled to the Fair Lands, where they hid with the Drakes and the Icornunae from the horrors brought by humans to the Fragile Lands. Seasons changed as they were known to man, and longer winters were brought upon the wounded land, and the world as people from those times knew it ceased to exist forever more.

“Far to the West, in the Land of the Sun, people could see far in the distance the column of light and the fiery rain and the maelstrom that engulfed the once mighty land of Antiria. The Kings and the Emperors of the Land of the Sun were pained by this sight, as they thought all hope was lost, forever. But stricken with grief as they were, they had no time to mourn, for their own lands were suffering from the terrible transformation the world was experiencing, and so they focused all their energies to restoring what little they had.

“Then, after some weeks had passed, a lonely boat could be spied sailing from the East to the Land of the Sun. It was an Antirian ship, tiny and frail in a sea that still bubbled with violent waters, and her sails were blown by no wind but by words of power, and there was but a lonely figure at her prow, grief-stricken and utterly tired. It was a young man, bronze-skinned and black-haired like any Antirian, but grey-eyed as well, which was an unusual trait. Even from afar, the people from the Land of the Sun could see those eyes, infused with infinite sadness but unwavering and resolute: the youth was a man on a quest. His name was Kinar, son of Aluna, apprentice in the Temple of Zehuti and last of the Antirias to ever live in the world. When he finally landed he was so utterly tired that he collapsed, but the people brought him before the Emperor, whose medics treated him until he recovered. He then retold his tale to the Emperor himself, for he had been witness to the fall of Antiria, and his quest had been to save what he could from the archives of the lore of Antiria and bring it to the people of the Land of the Sun. What Kinar said then was this:

‘I thank you deeply for your kind help, oh Emperor Jaguar-from-the-Sky. I wish we could have met in happier times, for I can see that the reputation of honesty and friendliness your people possess is nothing but the truth. Alas, that I come fled from the most hideous things to ever befell mankind, and though it pains me to recall it it is my duty to retell the tale of Antiria and how it came to fall.

‘It all began with the rise to power of a group of priests who called themselves Masters of the Cave. They claimed to be men of science and of religion, pursuers of knowledge to improve the lore of Antiria, philosophers and magicians. And they spoke the truth, they did, but only partially; they were also, secretly, followers of the Discordant God, brought down centuries ago in the War of the Thousand Suns, when Gods battled Gods and the three races of Earth fought alongside them to bring down the Destructor forever more.’

‘Aye,’ said Emperor Jaguar-from-the-Sky, ‘my people remember that tale clearly, as some of our Gods themselves fought in that mighty war, as well as Jaguar-who-wields-Sunbeams alongside them, who became our first Emperor, and after whom all our Emperors are named.’

‘Indeed,’ Kinar agreed, ‘the story of Jaguar-who-wields-Sunbeams reached even Antiria, and he was recounted along with all the human heroes and heroines who fought that war, and we still honor them to this day.’

‘Do forgive me, Kinar, son of Aluna,’ the Emperor said. ‘You came not to hear tales of what we already know, but of what just befell Antiria. Tell me, I beg of you, what could bring such a glorious nation to its downfall? And what, indeed, was the power by your people wielded that could bring the end of the world? My heart aches with the fear that things will never be the same ever again, not only for us, humble humans, but for our friends, the races that now fled to the Fair Lands, shunning themselves from us, fearing us and loathing us.’

‘Humble is what we humans should have been,’ Kinar said, ‘for it was the lack of humility in the Antirias that made it possible for the Masters of the Cave to have such control over the power stones and the tomes of lore that they should never have had access to. It was Arkai, my brother, who witnessed firsthand the twisted ways of the Masters, and it was to me that he told about this firstly. We resolved to tell the generals of our army and to the high priestess of our Temple and to the high hierarch of Zehuti, but none of them would listen to us. Indeed, they were already under the power of the Masters and we did not know that, so in our telling them of our suspicions we only managed to make enemies of our own army and priesthood and brotherhood of mages. In the end, we became public enemies, pursued for false crimes and hunted like evildoers, when all we were trying to do was to stop an evil from being done.

‘For months we lived like this, fleeing, finding what little solace in the few good friends that decided to believe us and help us, and in the loyal friends we made as well. By the time a year had passed we had assembled a small and humble group of people from different backgrounds: smiths and mages and soldiers, priestesses and scholars and engineers as well. We managed to obtain vital information regarding the Masters’ plan, and it was then that we realized what they wanted to do, for their plan spanned for countless generations and unfolded for 5,000 years into the future: they wanted to control people by deceit and deception, to plunder humanity in a world of illusions created by them, illusions that would make mankind lose all our magic and all our wisdom, with which they would then be able to ultimately slave our minds and spirits and control us until the time of imprisonment of the Discordant God is over and they are able to summon him back to life and power again.’

‘What a hideous thing!’ exclaimed Jaguar-from-the-Sky. ‘I fail to begin to fathom the repercussions of such a plan if it succeeded. But alas, what happened then? For you and Arkai managed to make them fail, did you not? Even if it meant the end of the world and the downfall of Antiria, am I correct?’

‘I am afraid it is not so,’ said Kinar, head bowed and deeply pained. ‘Arkai and I and some others went to the Tower of Og as soon as we found out about the Masters’ plan, while the rest of our group tried to warn the people in the White City. But the Masters are mighty foes, and they were soon slaughtering our forces, until only Arkai and I remained. We then thought all hope was lost, but it was then that Heldin, one of the priestesses that went to the White City, reached the Tower of Og with news of what had happened there: our group was able to convince the Empress of the truth and she sent some ships to the Land of Kem with part of the lore of Antiria, to be preserved should the Masters of the Cave succeed. The Masters’ agents then discovered the ploy and fought our men; they killed them all and the Empress with them, but not before the Empress herself gave Heldin a chance to escape with the rest of the lore from Antiria, and with the quest to flee to the Land of the Sun and keep that knowledge there.’

‘But it was not Heldin,’ Jaguar-from-the-Sky said, ‘but you who came to the Land of the Sun. Surely she did not die in Antiria?’

‘She did, for it was that what she wished. For she was in love with Arkai, my brother, and chose instead to bestow the mission to me so that she could make her final stand by his side, and die by his side if he died. Arkai protested, but it was then that the Masters renewed their attack. There was little time, and the stones of power were already beginning to shift the axis of Earth, as they planned, and Heldin begged me with tears in her eyes to let her die by my brother’s side, her beloved. My heart was broken, but I granted her her wish, for she was like a sister to me. So I took the tomes of lore and fled while Heldin and Arkai faced the Masters of the Cave and died by their hands, but died they did one next to the other, as they both desired: in their love’s arms.

‘I barely had time to reach the harbor, but my brother and Heldin’s sacrifice gave me the time I needed for that. It was then that the scorching light rose from the Tower of Og and the Earth's axis was shifted forever, and the world as we know it came to an end.’

‘So they won,’ said Jaguar-from-the-Sky, tears streaming down his cheeks.

‘They won,’ said Kinar, but his pain was brought not only for what humankind had now lost, but for his personal lose, as his brother meant the world to him, and now both the world and his brother were gone forever.

‘But not all is lost,’ said the Emperor suddenly. ‘You say some of your people took part of the lore of Antiria to the Land of Kem, while you were able to bring the rest here, to the Land of the Sun. And you lived to tell this tale: there is still hope for mankind, for freedom from the Masters of the Cave and a future without the threat of the Discordant God.’

‘With all due respect, my Lord, I know not if I share your optimism. For I used to have hope unending for all the things that are good and fair in the world, but now that I lost my brother, I know not if I wish to try to have hope.’

‘I understand, Kinar. But know this: even though you cannot find hope in your heart, I’ll make sure that we, the people of the Land of the Sun, keep that hope fiery and alive for all the generations to come, so that it serves as a beacon and a sign for all who wish to heed.’

“The stories said,” the Professor narrated, “that Kinar lived the rest of his days with the kind people of the Land of the Sun, and that he found love there, and that he was happy. The lore of Antiria was used for mighty deeds that helped the kingdoms of the Land of the Sun, but human nature brought strife and discord and in time much of what they achieved was lost. This was partly the doing of the Masters of the Cave, no doubt, who started to enslave humanity with their lies and illusions, just as they had planned. But that is not the tale as it is told elsewhere: elsewhere it is told that Arkai and Kinar and Heldin vanquished the Masters of the Cave in the Tower of Og, and that Antiria did not fall and that humankind was not enslaved in shadows and deceptions.”

“But that is false, isn’t it?” Juana asked. “That’s Jacinto’s thesis all along.”

“Indeed. He claimed the tale that is more widely known is false, while the story I just told you is the true account of what happened.”

“If it were so,” Juana reflected, “then it means we live in enslavement and we don’t even know it.”

“Exactly. If it is so, then there was no happy ending then, and our lives, alas, are but an illusion from which we cannot escape.”

“How sad that would be.”

“How sad indeed.”