The Domes of Calrathia

Chapter Five: Argos

Messalina threw her arms around Gereon, showering him with many kisses until the man was forced to extract himself from her. As for myself, she didn’t spare me an eye. 

“You have my deepest gratitude for saving me and my sister. Whatever reward is in our power, we shall happily give it.”

I noticed Berenice visibly tighten her arms around the strange great sword. She took a step back from the group with fear in her eyes. 

“If we were men who desired reward, we would not have helped you against those odds,” I said, to try to put the poor girl’s mind at ease. “We shall take you back to Terminus, and there we shall go our separate ways.”

Gereon nodded, content with this arrangement. Once we ensured their safe return to the city, duty compelled us no more, and we could return to our business. 

“But it would be my honor wounded if I did not repay such kindness and bravery!” Messalina cried out. “Do you have a place within Terminus? Come to my house, and we shall give you food and shelter for your stay in our city.”

I looked over at Gereon. I had precious few coins to spare, only the pittance Master Rigel had smuggled into my satchel. As for my needs, the lords of Terminus were bound by the law to provide for the couriers and to give them safe passage. Although, seeing the ruin of the city so far, I did not feel it wise to rely upon men I did not know. 

“This seems amicable.” Gereon came over to the idea. “Though fear not, my friend here will need only a few days before he will depart. As for myself, I am only to assist him within the city. We shall not overstay your generosity.”

Messalina clapped. “Excellent! Let us take our leave at once from this wretched place.”

Gereon led the way with Messalina shortly behind, probing him with many questions, but he kept himself reserved for the most part. I walked beside the younger sister, who bowed her face low. 

I wanted to speak to her, but I did not know what so clearly troubled her mind. Nor could I find some small matter to discuss as we treaded our way down the deserted road. I tried to say something, anything. Instead, it was she who spoke first. 

“Your eyes, I have never seen their like before, silver fashioned into a tumultuous river of stars. Are you a Seraph?”

“A Seraph? I do not understand that word.”

“A spirit, then? I do not know the proper names, but I hear tell they can assume the form of men and do many great miracles. Did you come to save me?” 

“I am sorry to report that I am but flesh just like you, and I did not intend our encounter. My eyes are dyed with the blood of an Anemoi, a practice carried out on those who reach the age of twelve in the School of Astronomers. It is part of the elevation from childhood to apprenticeship.”

Berenice fell quiet again, and we walked in the snow for some time. I kept her in my eye throughout the entire journey. I had thrown my blue cloak over her shoulders, seeing as her own velvet cloak and furred garments were in a sorry state. I myself could carry on in my own furs with little discomfort. 

She wrapped herself tightly in the fabric, with the greatsword always held close in her arms. I had long since been tempted to ask of it, but somehow it seemed inappropriate. Regardless, I lost this chance to inquire as I suddenly felt eyes upon us in the surrounding buildings. 

My hand reached for my sword, ready for another encounter. Gereon raised his hand to me to quiet my nerves. Peeking out of the ruins were the faces of the dispossessed. Huddled around small fires, they whispered and chatted as we passed by. It seemed we finally entered the outskirts of Terminus. 

Though thankfully, these people did not live entirely in squalor. The buildings now looked more or less maintained. People went about their business, although none ever seemed to raise their voice or otherwise call out. Even the children, seldom seen, were playing quietly amongst themselves. 

I was not unfamiliar with poverty. I encountered it many times during my childhood in Zodiak. The skyways took us past many slums heaped on top of one another, as if an overgrown root burrowing into the city. However, the masses I was accustomed to were raucous and vulgar. Men drank themselves to stupor on the road, and every fifth woman sold herself for the nearest coin. This was a new kind of deprivation, the one where the winter winds whimpered at your door and wandered down the empty street. 

Messalina clung tightly to Gereon’s side as we continued down the thoroughfare. Berenice did not care. 

Up ahead, I saw the walls of Terminus. Until then, I did not realize there were in fact two sets of walls. The first was made from wood and stone and seemingly whatever else the denizens of Terminus might find as construction material from the ruins. It was jagged and piled up in a hasty and ill manner. The only part of this wall that seemed to be tended was the gate, which sat squarely in the distance. It seemed this wall was primarily to divide between Terminus proper and those who did not have a place to stay. 

The second wall was on the other end of the city, and I could only see it barely poking above the buildings, such a great height it was. It was clear to me this was the silver line which I saw stretching across the horizon before entering the ruins. But it was not silver, it was steel. I could not get a good look at it, but I knew this titanic structure must’ve taken many generations to create. 

But even more impressively, shooting straight up from this wall was a spire that towered into the sky. Though seeing it on the way, I had never gotten a vantage point to properly appreciate its immense size. It hung over the city like the fin of a great fish. 

“I’ve never seen such a thing,” I spoke to Gereon. 

“That is the Border Wall and Castle Padua. They were built when the Great Ice Plain was but a coast.”

“To defend against whom? Calrathia has never fought a war, and this must’ve been long before the cannibals took root.”

“The winter,” Gereon said. “When men realized this land was growing colder, they built the Border Wall to keep the cold at bay. And it did, for a thousand generations, but that was an age ago. Now, the ashen furnaces within can only heat the city.” 

Indeed, he spoke truly. As we passed the gate onto a paved road, the temperature rose considerably. In the brickwork were vents that issued great heat. We were all forced to strip our outer garments and carry them in our arms. 

I stopped over one such vent holding my hand over the billowing air. 

“What is it?” Gereon asked, stopping after noticing I had slipped behind. 

I could help but smile and my voice trembled. “I did not think I would be warm again.” 

What shall I recount of Terminus? Inside the walls, the city became almost completely stone, save for some wooden decoration. I’m told this is because of fire hazard. The large network of pipes which carry heated air is a danger of combusting any flammable material, and was the cause of several great fires which burned the city to the ground. Instead, grey basalt was preferred for the construction of oblong buildings, typically only two stories high. Along the stone were carved many bas-reliefs and mosaics, depicting all the dreams that frequent artists: of courageous men and beautiful women. 

Between these buildings were great tarps, used for conserving the heat. They curved upward from the hot air and upon them were often painted geometric patterns of considerable skill. In the wealthier streets, these tarps were replaced with glass, held up by ornate columns. And while Terminus was nowhere as large or bustling as Zodiak, my hopes were lifted seeing life, quiet and reserved as it was. 

We passed by a wide marketplace, and I stopped to talk with a vendor. While his meats did not interest me, I saw he had a brooch of a small silver fish on his cloak. Paying with a few coins, I pocketed the trinket and returned to my companions, who were gathered near a sculpture in the center of the square. 

“Who is this?” Gereon asked. 

Messalina was visibly confused by the question. “Do you not know? This is the ruler of Terminus, the Princeps Caracalla, long may he reign. He has been in power since I was but a child.”

I turned to the statue, noting the strong features. Carved into bronze was the strength of youth, a head full of curly hair and the arms to carry a people. Upon his shoulders was Terminus itself, and he bore the weight triumphantly. Perhaps that should’ve been my first recognition. No man carries a weight but with a hardened face. Yet, I was too preoccupied at the time too much to notice. 

“Shall we continue to your house?” I asked. 

Forgive me, but it had been a long journey. From the dark forest, to ruins of old, to Terminus itself, I had not rested for a long time. My feet ached beneath me, and I longed for the comfort of a feathered bed. Some men go their lives without knowing what it is like to be truly tired. Of those cursed few, I cannot help but envy them. One bemoans, then laughs, then bemoans again. It is only at that final step, one realizes that they cannot continue onward. And at that moment, the man comes to a bittersweet relief. He is relieved of responsibility, but he feels guilty all the same. It is a humbling experience to come to the limit. 

Messalina did not hesitate to show the way. She led us down stone streets of stone men. And Berenice, innocent Berenice, followed her as well. I could not help but notice as the younger sister tripped and fell and continued, anyway. She always kept pace with Messalina, no matter how hard it was. The great sword she carried weighed her down and yet she did not slacken or fall behind. 

Gereon and I offered to hold it for her, but she held it all the more tightly. I realized this woman could not—would not—ever let go of her burden. When it became too much for her feeble arms, she bore it aloft on her shoulders. 

And then we were in front of a crumbling house. It had been great, once. The large home was impressively three stories high, an uncommon sight in Terminus. Its long columned walls were decorated with exquisite, though faded murals. The doors, one of the few things made of wood in Terminus, were carved in the image of great trees, their branches forming the handles. In a previous time, I would’ve considered this a mansion. Now, it was the shadow of one. 

Waiting at the entrance was a lone dog. It seemed just as old as the house itself, though I knew that this building must’ve stood many times the animal’s life. It was lying in a gutter. Much of its white fur had fallen out, and its skin was covered with blisters and sores. The dog’s eyes were milky with deep cataracts. I would’ve thought the poor creature was dead, but it wagged its tail as Berenice approached and patted it on the head. 

Messalina did not care one whit about the animal and proceeded inside, beckoning us forward. Both Gereon and I stayed with Berenice, frustrating the older sister who remained near the doorway. 

“Who is this poor animal?” I asked, looking over the dying dog. 

“It is Argos. My father’s hound. He used to guard this house while my father was away. However, I fear the animal has lost the ability to walk. At least, I have not seen him do so in several weeks.”

“Why not put him out of his misery?” Gereon asked. “This animal is suffering, and he can fulfill his duty no longer. Best kill him quickly.”

Berenice was offended at the notion. “Argos has never desired any other place than at my father’s door. Ever since his master’s death, this dog has patiently guarded my house day and night for nearly ten years. I cannot in good heart remove him now. I tend to his needs, and I make sure he is well fed.” 

The croaking dog licked her fingers weakly. 

“You do this beast dishonor.” Gereon looked away from the animal. “If you do not have the heart to kill it, at least remove this creature from the sight of others. It is a foul thing to be decrepit in the full light of day. Cover his shame.”

“Is it so much better to die in a sequestered bedroom than at your post?” I asked, arguing to the defense of Berenice. “There is no shame in a life well spent, and this dog is wise for remaining here. For he knows the day is coming when he shall return to his master, and he shall receive his just reward for remaining faithful unto death.”

I held out my hand to Argos, and he licked it and wagged his tail. Berenice took a step back at this. I glanced up at her, surprised at her reaction. 

She knew the question in my eyes before I spoke it. “It’s just… I’ve never seen him take so kindly to another person.”

“There was once a pup the young children of the Astronomers’ played with. I do not know the ways of many animals, but I have always had a fondness in my heart for these.” I scratched Argos’ ears. “It is said the Potentate scattered among the creatures of Earth the many aspects of men, so for mankind to better understand themselves. To dogs, it is quite clear he gave loyalty and joy.”

I stood up from Argos and stepped forward. Messalina, who had been watching this all from the doorway, alone held no compassion for the withered dog. “You are all mistaken. This is a maddened animal. Reason nor law governs this senile beast. It is dangerous and will bite the hand that feeds it. Better it be thrown to the wastes.”

Link to Chapter Six