The Children of Calm (2 page)

“Then welcome to a secret meeting of The Whispered Wheel,” Caenar said.

The Whispered Wheel?
she thought to herself.
What in Mira is that? Some overgrown boys’ club?

Caenar continued. “Because you are not native to Calm, allow me to explain a few things to you. We keep certain truths hidden from most people, for knowledge can corrupt the simple-minded. If our true history were commonly known to all, especially to those in The Outside, we could very well be in grave danger. But I digress.

“Nearly three centuries ago, after the travesty that was The Great Purging destroyed most of Calabranda, a very peculiar but extraordinary thing happened here in our blessed village. A great prophet by the name of Balthantos visited our forefathers, and made a bold and startling prophecy regarding Calm, Calabranda, and this very night. Indeed, about the two boys born just now: the one in your basket, and the one in Faltir’s arm. ‘Brothers of contrary blood,’ he said of them. However, the most important part of the prophecy was this:” He then picked up an old green book, opened it to a bookmarked page, and began to read:

“In those days she shall strive with great labor pains;

Under the full light of Nevarra and Pelanna shall come forth brothers:

One of the Dawn, one of the Twilight.

In turmoil she shall descend into the ashes of the earth

While her sons usher in the dawning of the New Year:

Hope for the downtrodden,

Rest for the labor-weary,

Peace for those who dwell in Calabranda;

For together they shall reunite the estranged kindred of all Aenosh.”

He closed the book and looked at Penephoni. “The prophecy has been partially fulfilled tonight,” he said. “Two sons have been born on New Year when both Nevarra and Pelanna are full. These two shall help to rebuild Calabranda as it once was.”

Penephoni’s mind raced with thoughts as she tried to process what was happening. She looked at the men and could see they all believed this to be true. “Elder Caenar, I know we’re isolated here in Calm, and for the most part the rest of Calabranda is ignorant that this village even exists,” she said, “but this is a lot to swallow. And I’m sorry, but this prophecy of yours doesn’t even make any sense. First and foremost, the two boys come from different mothers; they aren’t brothers. Secondly, that bit about the mother’s ashes descending to the earth, or whatever - though Retessa…didn’t survive the night, I believe Faltir can support me by saying Clarina is doing just fine.”

Caenar smiled. “As each man here knows, I believe the use of the word
brother
is figurative, and the
she
the prophecy refers to is our fine village herself, not the children’s mothers specifically.”

Penephoni stared at him. “Do you mean to tell me you think…?”

“Your discretion is fully expected and greatly appreciated, my dear Penephoni,” he interrupted. “I can assure you all of this is true. The One has waited for the culmination of the times to fulfill this prophecy, and now we are seeing it fulfilled with our very own eyes. For more than three centuries The Whispered Wheel has existed to protect and anticipate these prophecies and times, each member vowing with his life to do all in his power to look forward to the time when end will be brought to end, and the great healing of harms will be accomplished.”

He then turned his attention to the other men. “Now, my fellows, Penephoni will represent Retessa’s children, as we can all agree their parents are unable to stand here with them,” he said. “She housed their mother, she delivered her children; therefore she is the most closely bonded one to them among us.” He turned his gaze back towards Penephoni. “Now, Penephoni, allow me to hold the girl.”

“Now wait just a minute,” she said. “As the village physician I demand to know just what…”

“You are in no position to demand anything,” Caenar said sharply but quietly. “Your late husband knew of this and would have no doubt supported the events that will transpire here tonight. It is partly out of respect to him that I am even telling you any of these closely guarded secrets. You will most certainly do as I ask, for as I have previously stated, we will do all within our power to protect these children, with or without your aid or consent.”

Penephoni felt as though she had been slapped. She had never known Caenar to speak like this. Not knowing what else to do, she picked up the girl from the basket, and placed her in his arms. Holding her gently, a warm smile spread across his face as he slowly lifted her tiny frame above his head and said:

“Mild and meek are you, Selenor,

Fair crystal of brightest starlight.

Low and sweet shall your song be,

To mend the hearts of all Aenosh.

Grief you shall bring to him dearest to you

But hope shall never leave your brow.

Through you all shall be blessed;

All shall be made whole.”

Slowly, Caenar lowered her, held her close to his chest, and then lightly kissed her head. His lips moved inaudibly before he looked back up to Penephoni.

“Now give me the boy,” he said.

Penephoni was struck with awe at what she was seeing and hearing. She quickly placed the newly-named Selenor back in her basket, and obediently gave the boy to Caenar. Then, in the same way he did with the girl, he lifted up the boy and said:

“Tresten is a dark shadow,

Clothed with night and solitude.

Your silence will speak of wisdom

And your wrath of fierce naiveté.

From death to life you shall betray hope,

Till your shackles be removed.

Through your power will come peace on the wings of war,

Unity from discord.”

After kissing him on the head, Caenar handed the child back to Penephoni, who then placed Tresten back in his basket.

“Penephoni,” Caenar said to her, “it is the decision of the Council and The Whispered Wheel that you be the guardian and provider for Retessa’s children.”

There was some movement that caught her eye, and she looked to the side to see one of the other men swaying and watching the floor. At that moment he raised his head and locked eyes with Penephoni’s, and she saw a face tormented and haunted by sorrow. For the briefest of moments she felt as though she would be devoured by the despair darkening his eyes.

Celek,
she thought to herself.

Caenar broke the spell as he continued. “For your own reasons you chose not to remarry after your husband’s untimely death, choosing instead to wholly devote yourself to serving our village with the gifts of your hands and medical knowledge. Because you have no blood family here with you, we, as a village, give you children to show our appreciation for all of your sacrificial work. You will raise them as your own and they shall carry on your family name. Do we understand each other?”

She looked at him confusedly. “Why, yes, of course,” she said, “but I do not understand why…”

“Then it is enough,” he said. “Faltir, give me your daughter.”

Faltir extended his left arm to Caenar, and Caenar took the child. “You have named her Lana, correct?” he asked Faltir.

“That is correct,” Faltir said.

Caenar nodded, and raised the child above his head. Then he spoke again:

“Swift of foot and long of grace are you, Lana.

The wind shall ever be at your back,

The sun on your brow.

Healing is in your hands,

And a smile shall always be present in your eyes.

Treachery shall pierce your heart for a time,

To the end that you shall all but lose hope.

But strong is your will to stand

And you shall not fall.”

After finishing, Caenar lowered the girl and kissed the top of her head. Then he, Faltir, and Celek rotated the children around so that the boy was now in Caenar’s arms.

“Rylek?” Caenar asked.

“Rylek,” Faltir confirmed.

With a great sigh, and tears in his eyes, Caenar raised the child over his head and said:

“Rylek, hope of all hopes are you,

Strong and firm-handed.

Truer than any brother you shall be,

For loyalty is knitted upon your heart.

Deep shadows you will encounter from chasms of the deep,

But by your hand you will move mountains.

From you shall usher purest gold,

Refined by the most violent of processes.

The sun shall not descend upon all you see,

For you shall nourish Calabranda with your justice and mercy.

“Yes,” he continued, “praise be to The One that I should live to see this day! Blessings be upon us all; and not merely upon us, but upon all in this great land. For herein lie all our hopes and dreams, those unspeakable sighs that emanate from our hearts.”

As he uttered these final words, the other men whispered their agreements. After Faltir had the boy back in his right arm, Caenar placed his right hand on Faltir’s head, and his left hand on Penephoni’s head. Then with a large smile on his face, he said, “These children must be protected at all costs, even our lives. Just as Balthantos prophesied to our forefathers long ago, the damage Salenntir did to not only us, but to all who live in Calabranda, shall be amended.”

One of the other men shuffled. “If only Balthantos were here now,” he said, “he could take the children safely away until the time was right for all of this to take place.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand,” Penephoni said. “Salenntir? Just what do you imagine this prophecy to involve? And I thought you said that this Balthantos fellow lived three hundred years ago; wouldn’t he be dead by now? And why and where would he take the children? I’m sorry, but none of this still makes any sense to me.”

“My dear Penephoni, do not worry yourself over these details,” Caenar said. “Balthantos is something more than what you might be able to imagine. He will not come any time soon, but there will come a day when he will take the boys, if not the girls also, to fulfill their destinies. But that is many years away. You are Selenor’s and Tresten’s mother, and will always be.”

He then turned to the man who had previously spoken. “As for your concern, Taebor, that is not his way,” he continued. “It has indeed been nigh on three hundred years since he was last seen – as far as we know, anyway. He very well may walk unseen among us. When the time is right, we will know.”

Caenar turned his gaze back towards Penephoni. “My dear child, you are free to go home now. Do all you can to nurture and protect Selenor and Tresten. They are your children to raise, to discipline, to love. We shall aid you in whatever way you require.”

Penephoni looked down at the children as they were still sleeping in their baskets. It was not hard to love such innocent beauty, and she did not doubt she was capable of raising them as her own. However, she wondered if she had it in her to place the plans of the village over her desires. She also wondered if she would be able to let Tresten and Selenor go when this Balthantos, whom she had never even heard of before, supposedly required them. As she thought these things, she looked at the children’s tiny closed eyes, and began to wonder what their eyes would see and what the future would bring before them.

Could it really be possible for these children to be so detrimental to the cause of restoring Calabranda, if what Caenar says is true?
she thought to herself. Though she did not understand, or necessarily agree with all that had just happened, she determined in her heart she would do all she could to raise the children to the best of her abilities.

“Thank you. It will be my honor, Elder Caenar,” Penephoni said, raising her eyes to his. Then suddenly she remembered Retessa, and sorrow clouded her eyes. “But what about Retessa?” she asked. “What are we going to do?”

A shadow spread across Caenar’s face as he took her hand. “Never you worry, dear child, we shall tend to her.” he said warmly. “You need rest and must care for the children.”

***

As she walked back to her house, Penephoni reflected more on the events of the night with her thoughts centering upon Retessa and the enigma she had been. She had shown up in the village two months prior, seemingly out of her wits and in her third trimester. It seemed she had been suffering from an extreme form of amnesia or other mental disorder, for all she could remember was her name.

However, the more Penephoni thought about it, the more she began to believe things did not add up. No one could have known who the father of Selenor and Tresten was. How did this odd prophecy figure into that? Did it really take into account a strange woman who appeared out of nowhere, only to have been taken away just as quickly? Or was it merely coincidence? Were Caenar and the rest of The Whispered Wheel forcing their hand and making their own destiny? And what were those odd orbs that fell out of Retessa’s ears after she had died? Penephoni shook her head, as though trying to force out the haunting memory.