Land of Our Fathers

The cold wind nipped through Jude’s fleece-lined jacket as he hurried down the street. Rain pattering on the ground all around mixed with the dirt and refuse left after a month of dry, hot days, creating an acrid sludge that burned his nose. Rivulets ran down the limestone walls, their dirt tracks paint-strokes on a grimy canvas.

Jude kept his head down, focused on each step he took. The sooner he got there, the sooner he’d be finished this assignment. It made him antsy, thinking about going into the old city. The Land of Our Fathers; that was what people called it nowadays. Jude only knew that he had been given direct orders to enter the restricted zone to retrieve a precious object for the King.

Water dripped chilled fingers down the back of his neck from his wide-brimmed hat as he wondered what the treasure might be. A precious jewel for the crown? An ancient sword said to have been wielded by a God? The King had given Jude no particulars, just a calculation of the distortion in the aether weave that would help him locate it. He supposed that must mean it contained magic of some sort, for only magic could produce distortions in the aether.

All this mystery. Jude shivered, shoving his hands deeper into their pockets. The object must be extremely rare for the King to maintain so much secrecy.

Turning into an alley that would afford him more cover from the elements, Jude grimaced at a scuttling sound. Rats. Figures that they would take over the abandoned sections of the city. That left him wondering what other crawlers might be hiding amongst the shadows of the early morning, waiting to come out as he hurried on his way.

Jude wasn’t exactly sure when the change occurred, staring at his feet as he was. It was the cessation of the rain that caused him to look up. The beauty of the strange buildings surrounding him had his face going slack in wonder. It seemed as if diamond dewdrops glistened on a field of crushed pearls as the sun blazed down from amongst the clouds, reflecting off the majestic walls around him.

The spires of architectural masterpieces loomed from up above, their tips poised to pierce the Heavens. Jude stopped, slowly rotating as he gazed at the splendor about him. This certainly did look like a city fit for Gods. Self-consciously, he tugged at his filthy jacket, glancing at his mud-spattered khakis as he tried to suppress feelings of inadequacy. No wonder the King had banished them from this part of the city. They were like a sparrow to the magnanimous eagle. Their presence here would surly disrupt and enrage their godly ancestors, not to mention mar the beauty of the buildings.

It was like allowing a beggar to attend a ball. Everything was glittering and grand; awe inspiring. As he walked, Jude craned his head about every which way, trying to take it all in at once.

Well, he supposed here was as good a place as any. Reaching into an inner pocket of his jacket, he removed a round metal device known as a rummage. When programmed with a specific magic signature, the small device would use the web-like Aether to scan the entire city and pinpoint an objects exact location.

A thing for numbers was Jude’s magical gift. Studying the miniscule keypad, he punched the sequence in as each number flashed through his brain. Smiling in satisfaction, he hit the search key and waited.

The object turned up only a few miles away; easily accessible from the street he was on. Whistling to himself, he changed his direction and continued on. It was turning out to be quite a day after all; the qualms he’d felt earlier dissipated with the rising of the morning mist. Even the sound of his boots clomping the pavement held a cheerful ring to them. As Jude rounded a rather box-like building, the one across the square immediately caught his attention.

The marble of this building seemed somehow different from the others. It wasn’t until Jude stepped closer that he made out the faint veins of glittering golden powder that coursed their way through each of the slabs. Reaching out a tentative finger, he brushed the wall, pulling back his hand to marvel at the glitter clinging there. It made the entire building look like it was aflame with the magnificence of the sun. Why ever had they stopped building with this exquisite material? Limestone had its uses to be sure, but it created nothing comparable to the splendor of these buildings.

He approached the front steps as though the soles of his boots had turned to lead. He bit the inside of his lip as his muscles set to trembling. Dare he enter? Surely nothing bad would happen if he were to just take a quick look around. The King hadn’t made any specifications about not entering the buildings while he was out here; why not take this once in a lifetime opportunity?

The door creaked as he pushed against it, clawing at Jude’s nerves. He was as jumpy as a cat that’d had one too many matchsticks lit under its tail. It was foolish to worry about being caught, who would see him?

His footsteps echoed off the walls as he entered a vast chamber encased in floor to ceiling bookcases. Each cobweb-ridden shelf was jam-packed with books of every shape, size, and–if one shook off some of the dust–color. Jaw open in amazement at the sheer size of the place, he spun, arms limp at his sides. There must be a book for every year his race had existed. Jude wasn’t even certain he knew the numbers to count that high.

That was when he caught a glimpse of the ceiling. Vaulted, every inch was covered in a life-size mural, vaster in its beauty than Jude was capable of describing. The entire building took his breath away and made him dizzy.

Reverently, he fingered a large volume, leaving a streak in the dust along its spine. Delicately sliding it from the shelf, he opened its aged pages; their crackling all that broke the silence. For the first time in his life, Jude mourned the loss of literacy in their community as he gazed at the black ink dancing across the white pages. Technological devices had taken the place of the written word; such were the drawbacks of advancement.

His anxiety returned as he caught a glimpse of the sunlight streaming through a solitary window. Reluctantly, he made to close the book and set it back on its shelf when a page turned to reveal a gruesome picture.

It depicted a man fallen to his knees with his head thrown back as claws erupted from his hands. Startled, and more than a little horrified, Jude slammed the book shut and roughly shoved it back onto the shelf. Suddenly this place didn’t seem like such a sanctuary.

Out in the clear air, he took great gulping breaths as the fizzing in his nerves slowly diminished. Standing in the streaming sunlight he felt a bit foolish at his overreaction in the library–as he realized that’s what the building must be. Silly of him to have allowed himself to become frightened of a book.

Well, he had wasted more time than he should have in there; he pulled the rummage from his pocket and started walking. But his mind wouldn’t be deterred from contemplating that book. Who had that unfortunate man been? What had been wrong with him? The questions burned his brain.

Judging from the dot flashing on the screen, it was only another mile or so to the object he sought. That’s when he started noticing that the chunks and slabs of marble missing here and there from the buildings’ exteriors were becoming larger and harder to ignore. It seemed to be the gold veined marble that was the particular target of this decay. But if it were decaying, why weren’t there signs of rubble about the base of each of the buildings?

Crouching near one such missing slab, he ran his fingers along the jagged edges its absence had created. If he didn’t know any better, he might suspect someone of chipping away the grout holding the slab in place. But that was impossible, no one ventured within the confines of the restricted zone, much less lived out here long enough to knock out marble casings. So what had caused it then? Jude angrily got to his feet, mind whirring. But every possibility it produced was either highly unlikely or ridiculous. From what he had seen so far, he wasn’t sure this was a puzzle he wanted solved. He was beginning to wonder if the King’s reasons for keeping them out of this part of the city were the actual ones he claimed them to be.

Just as he was about to continue on his way, something covered in the dust of the chiseled out grout caught his eye. Reaching down, he pulled out what appeared to be a handkerchief. Staring down at it in astonishment, he worried as to how it had gotten there. Tucking it into his back pocket for future contemplation, he glanced up at the buildings around him suspiciously. If someone had been in this part of the city recently, they might be watching him right now. He had better retrieve the object and get out of there, forgetting everything he had seen and thought.

Jude hurried down streets, through alleyways, and across courtyards until he appeared to be right on top of the dot on the screen. Now what?

Looking around, he couldn’t see anything of value anywhere. Wandering about, he was searching for any clue that would point out the whereabouts of the mysterious object when a strange sound had him peering around a corner.

His muscles seized as his mouth went paper dry. A bundle of filthy rags were piled in a heap a few feet away. It was form there that the sound was emitting. Cautiously stepping closer, he realized it was someone kneeling in the dust, hunched over crying.

“Oh, I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

Jude was puzzled, for he knew that statement was addressed at him, yet she didn’t seem surprised to find another person out here with her. Had she lost her sanity; stumbled into the abandoned city and become lost in its winding labyrinth of beautiful streets?

“They’ll get so mad at me, that’s the second one I have lost this week!” Grimy fingers crept into view around her sides as she hugged herself and began to rock.

“But I can’t work without one, I’ll choke on the dust and become sick like the others. Oh where did I leave my handkerchief?” She let out a pitiful wail.

As if wading through molasses, Jude reached into his back pocket and withdrew the handkerchief. Stepping up behind her, he lowered it into her field of vision.

“Wherever did you find it Chenil-” her eyes widened as she whirled and caught sight of him.

“You’re not Chenil,” she stated, bewildered.

“No.” Jude couldn’t think of anything else to say. He had billions of questions running through his head but he wasn’t fast enough to catch one and force it to his lips.

Gently removing the handkerchief that was still clasped between his outstretched fingers, the young woman got to her feet. Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face. “You look familiar, have I seen you before?”

Jude wracked his brain but could come up with no recollection of ever having laid eyes on this woman before. Clearing his throat, he marshaled his thoughts.

“I don’t remember having seen you before. Why do I look familiar?”

“I just said you did,” her eyes crinkled as she smiled at him. He found himself admiring that smile, it made her face and eyes light up with enjoyment. He knew of too little a number of people whose eyes lit up when they smiled.

“That’s not what I meant. I was asking where you remember me from.”

The next words out of her mouth weren’t anything he was expecting.

“Why aren’t you wearing your face covering? Have you already been infected?”

A faint niggling recollection began to worm its way toward his consciousness.

“Infected? I don’t understand. By what?”

“Have you never wondered why the buildings closest to this part of the city have all been abandoned?”

“I assumed the king ordered them to relocate so they wouldn’t be tempted to enter the restricted area.”

A sound worked its way up the back of her throat as she gave him a puzzled look, as if unsure how to explain to him that his favorite pet had died.

“They weren’t evicted. Most of them are here, those who haven’t succumbed.”

“To what?”

“What all of us are out here trying to get rid of. The stones, of course.”

“What stones?” Jude looked about as if expecting them to jump out and declare themselves.

“You must have seen them, the white marble with the sparkling veins of gold running through-” she gasped as Jude watched recognition flare in her eyes. “You!”

Turtling with a look of alarm on his face, he backed away a step. “What have I done? I don’t even know you!”

“Of course you wouldn’t, I don’t even think you noticed the brown-eyed waif curled outside the consultation room as you strode past.”

“What consultation room?” He asked, bewildered. Jude had no recollection of ever being in any consultation room.

“Back at the camp. You left with the hooded man.”

“I’ve never been-” Jude froze as her words penetrated and he suddenly found himself bombarded with images of a conference room like she had mentioned, people in rags all waiting within it. There had been guards at the door and tension thick in the air.

He remembered the hooded man. He had swept into the room with such presence and authority, Jude had wondered if he was death come to take them away. But his name hadn’t been Jude back then, he had been called Christopher.

“You remember, I can see it in your eyes. What is your name?”

“Christopher,” he tilted his head to the side as he stared past her.

“Do you remember what you were told to do?”

Jude slowly nodded.

The man had told them to jump on one leg. He could faintly remember wondering why the girl next to him did not comply as he wobbled about, trying to keep his balance. It had been a harmless enough request.

The next he remembered, the man was beside him, ordering him to rise and clean himself up. Looking down at his hands in his memory, he was horrified to find them covered in–

“-blood. You killed her, the one who didn’t obey.”

He stared in shock at her features that had gone remote and cold.

“But why?”

“Because he told you to. Have you never wondered why you haven’t ever questioned the orders the King has given you?”

“Why should I, they have always been reasonable.”

“Was killing my sister reasonable?”

Bewilderment slackened his features.

“How did he do it?”

“The Kings’ of this city have been protecting this secret for years. Long ago, when we still lived within these gilded walls, the King made a revolutionary discovery. For whatever reason, the gold veined marble stones caused a mutation in some that was perceived to be a magical ability.”

“What happens to those who don’t develop a magical ability?”

Jude’s gaze followed the direction she pointed, alighting on mounded dirt furrows where a street had been dug up.

“They become grotesque monsters, covered in pustules and open sores before they drown in their own body fluids. Nina had just discovered what was going on with the rocks when her magical abilities started manifesting. If the general populace found out what was happening down here, do you think they would support the dictatorship that has been keeping them in the dark for years?” She shook her head and continued. “I found records a few years back. They told everyone it was a plague and they needed to quarantine those who were sick. That’s when they moved everyone from the city and built a new one miles away. The King of the time thought he had solved the problem. But lo and behold, the population increased through the generations and now we are practically knocking down the gates of the old city. We had nowhere to expand to but the Land of Our Fathers, but it was not safe. So he set about taking those from the poorest sections and making us get rid of the deadly marble.”

“Why didn’t you run?”

“For the same reason you never did while you worked within the confines of these walls-where would we run to? There are guards throughout the entire city and no one lasts long outside its walls.”

“Why are you telling me this, what am I to do with it?”

“You need to help those people down there.”

“But you’re here, why do you need me?”

“I don’t have any time left,” and saying this, she pulled back her sleeve, exposing oozing pustules.

Jude swallowed convulsively, fighting the urge to retch. Walking over to the window, he clenched the sill while asking, “what should I do?”

“Those that survived the camp, the ones who developed magic and over whom the King’s magic holds sway, tell them the truth. Break this cyclic curse so that future generations may have a chance.”

Jude kept the realization that this woman was the object the King sought to himself as he stared out over the crystalline city spread out below. He supposed that it might once have been a promised land, but not anymore. It was land fit only for the graves of their fathers.