The White Emperor

Warriors of Transcendence, Part 55
 
“You are insignificant to us, ” Ulu heard a voice in his mind, “You are but one of many trivial nuisances, and you are incapable of harming us or cramping our style.” Where was the voice coming from? Ulu’s eyes were closed and he felt a vague pain encompass his head.
 
Suddenly, he remembered everything: The encounter with the Obliterators, the incident with the Imposter, his meeting with Tzalaii and his naïve journey to seek the Kings Cloak.  Although he had entered the Tower with ease as a prisoner, he doubted that he would be able to get out alive. The voice did not subside. It was devoid of emotion, anger.
 
Despite his weakness and fears, Ulu tried to ignore the voice, to be unimpressed by the power emanating from it, but just then the voice grew louder, and the words cut into Ulu’s skin: “Who sent you here? Where is his dwelling place?”
 
Within these words, almost impossible to perceive, Ulu heard a fervor that demonstrated the speaker’s weakness. This feeling relieved Ulu momentarily, and he bravely opened his eyes. He saw the large high-ceilinged hall. Through the huge windows, wide vistas could be seen:  The Green Lowlands to the west, the sea glistening far beyond and Shadow Valley to the East, full of evil.
 
Am I at the peak of the Towered City? wondered Ulu.
 
He turned his glance to the center of the room, and what he saw confounded his entire being, leaving no room for anything else. In the enormous, transparent hall there were seven ascending wide steps made of glass. At the top of the steps sat a creature made of glass or ice upon a seat of fire. It had countless eyes, terrifying, intimidating and accusatory, all of them focused upon Ulu. Blue flames, blindingly bright, sharp as lightning, circled the creature like a blue cape of fire. And now, only now, did Ulu realize that it was this creature who was awaiting an answer to the question: “Who sent you here? Where is his dwelling place?”
 
Everything lacked clear boundaries and form. The steps became a deep pond and the windows appeared barred. White fragments, fierce and piercing, encircled the broad room, like wind, desiring spaciousness, like live creatures awaiting their prey. With strength that he did not possess, Ulu shut his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. Battles of forces were not foreign to him. But this force?
 
The White Emperor arose from his seat, and the flames of his cloak scattered around him, filling the hall.
 
“If you do not give, I shall take,” he bellowed as he neared the prone man, cowering on the ground, imprisoned by the magic of his flames.
 
“And what is more,” he continued, “You have yet to hear the tenth enigma of the Obliterators.”
 
Suddenly distant childhood memories appeared in the mind of the Man of Borders. What a contrast to these moments of true terror. Ulu was able to take comfort in them momentarily. During his childhood, soldiers of the Towered City had not yet pervaded the earth, and no one could have imagined how swift and total their conquest would be. When the messengers of the Master of Transcendence met him, he had been only twelve years old, the same age Sage was when he disappeared in the Green Lowlands. But, unlike his son, he had already sensed the whisper of his inner voice. It was a blocked mystery, from which only echoes of it reached his consciousness. How had the messengers of the Master of Transcendence known what was transpiring in his soul? Why had they chosen him from all of the village children?
 
The memory of that first encounter was clearly etched in his mind, it as if it had occurred that day. The two messengers had appeared slightly taller than the average villager, and Ulu first noticed them on the shore. No one else seemed to notice that they were different in any way. They sat on the beach and gazed at the children at play, but Ulu knew that they were really watching him. As though forced, as though summoned by their thoughts, Ulu approached them and sat beside them in the sand.
 
“How are you called, child?” asked one, with large questioning eyes.
 
“We mean to say, what is your name?” the second corrected the first, as though it was important for him to speak each word with precision.
 
Ulu felt then, vaguely, that this supposed unimportant question heralded great significance. He whispered to them as though in a secret: “Ulu”.
 
The two were content with his answer and with the seriousness in which it was spoken. The strangers had then conversed with Ulu for some time, asking him many questions. Ulu was certain that these were not merely trivial questions…that they led somewhere…and therefore made use of a moment of silence, sat up straight and confidently asked: “What is it you want?”
 
This question contained a clear knowledge that they wanted something, and that there was a purpose beyond their seemingly unimportant questions. Ulu had sensed it, but was unable to define it.
 
“And what do you want?” they had answered as one.
 
He almost said: “To be a fisherman,” but was prevented by an inner voice, and he understood: They are referring to the mystery that he had sensed with all of his being. ‘What do you want? What is the desire that jabs at you constantly?’
 
He was unable to find the words that clearly expressed what was missing. He was yet to meet the Master of Transcendence with the glistening eyes, so how was he to know that it was him that his soul yearned for? Had he replied, “To be a fisherman,” the magic would have faded. The two men would have ended the conversation somehow, and he would never have met them again, neither them nor their sender.
 
Luckily, he remained silent.
 
No one spoke, and their joint silence became their mutual secret. In order to ascertain his suitability, they tested him. This test entailed accompanying his new friends on a journey to a dense forest. In the forest, the tree trunks were red and the treetops loomed high overhead. It was dark and mysterious, buzzing with obscure life, and the sounds of animals could be heard all around. While walking silently on a narrow trail, the two men turned to Ulu and said: “Now you show us the way.”  
 
Ulu had never been there before, and the forest was completely unknown to him! In the years that passed, Ulu would learn to listen to the voice of his heart, which would lead him to the proper place and time, but back then he was filled with fear. He had looked into the eyes of his attendants questioningly, and they encouraged him by silently pointing towards the trail ahead. He walked forward hesitantly, followed by the two men, until he reached a small clearing, covered in dry yellow moss. Ulu surveyed the area, touched the scattered rocks and listened to the sound of the wind blowing through the treetops. Suddenly a vision from the distant past appeared in his mind: There he was, sitting with two illuminated warriors, in that very same clearing! He had expected the vision to enlarge and become clearer so that he could better understand it, but it disappeared. He gazed at the tall silent trees, and noticed one tree that was especially bent over, surrounded by wild bushes. A very narrow trail bypassed it. Ulu had pointed towards it and stated: “This way!”
 
To remember…Today Ulu knew that when doubts about his path appeared, he was to enter within himself and remember, but back then he was not skilled at remembering. His memories circled over many times and places and returned to his son, Sage. When Sage was born, Ulu had hoped that he would be the messenger of the Hall of Transcendence sent to train his own son, but Sage was gone, having been captured and obliterated…
 
The memory waves passed, and Ulu was struck by the grief of the present, as he heard the sharp, piercing voice of the Emperor: “The tenth enigma is as follows: Where is your eldest, Sage?”
 
Ulu trembled. Helpless anger permeated his entire being. He was thus exposed to the Emperors’ might, and he was unable to use his powers to transform his fears with light. The Emperor came very close to the prisoner and reached out his hand. A flame, as thin as a sharpened knife, was hurled towards his nearly lifeless body. To Ulu’s surprise, it was not a flame of death, in fact he felt like a jug of ice water had been spilled on him. He shook off the imaginary water and found himself sitting across from an ordinary looking man.
 
“I disguised myself as a human,” said the Emperor, “so that we may amuse ourselves a little. It would be a shame to kill a tool as glorious as yourself. That behavior is fitting for a simple warrior, not for an Emperor. It was cruel of you to kill an old childhood friend like Tyklah, but Sage has recovered from your unnecessary encounter and has returned to us. I reckon that your deepest wish is to release him. Well, you can’t complain that you didn’t get a fair chance to do so!”
 
He continued: “You must have heard of the Game of Forces. I don’t believe that the Master of Transcendence did not teach you about something so simple. Shortly we shall move into the large hall next to my chamber, where we shall play together. Of course,” he smiled, “we shall grant you the playing freedom fit for a Warrior of Transcendence. The winner takes Sage. You shall see him before you shortly.”
 
Now Ulu had to enlist all of his skills in order to transform his fear. Was he to see his son as a shaven-headed warrior again, dressed in a Tower cape, with a look of submissive forlornness in his eyes? The White Emperor pointed towards the wide door set in the glass wall, and Ulu walked in his footsteps. A broad, deep purple sky with no end appeared before his eyes. Down below, in a flat green valley, Ulu could see a wide structure of designed squares composed of short, crowded bushes. Without counting, he assumed that there were one hundred and forty- seven of them.
 
But why was this land called a ‘hall’? He wondered.
 
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” boasted the Emperor, and then added: “Here are your tools.”
 
A silent army of shaven-headed soldiers suddenly appeared, wearing yellow capes. Upon one cape was a drawing of a coiled, hissing serpent, upon six capes were the drawings of octopi, and upon five were foxes, and so on.
 
“And these are my players,” the Emperor said, pointing in the other direction. There, stood a silent troop of shaven-headed soldiers in purple uniform. Their faces were pale and emotionless, like the faces of the dead. And one of them was Ulu’s son…
 
To be continued.
 

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