When Tomorrow Comes: Dawn

Kazimir stared up at the gates entwined with vines and framed by heavy trees, their faint glow lighting the dark and reflecting against the metal. It didn't matter how many times he'd come to the capital of Ichtaka Raz, it was more beautiful than the time before. There were few places with glowing flora and his days were often spent in near absolute darkness. While this didn't bother most people, Kazimir was a Mateil, which meant he was born with pale eyes. They were useless, and he was considered blind in his state, Malkuth--the lowest state of seven in Ichtaka Raz--and the best hope he had in life was to appeal to the Anorii and be moved to a higher state where bioluminaries were more common. Maybe then he would have a purpose. Maybe he could be more than a Mateil destined only for breeding if he ever developed Echo. It was a rare gift that came only to Mateil, an ability to feel and generate vibrations and give them a sort of second sight. In three generations, there had only been two with Echo, and they'd been taken to the capital not long after it was discovered. Jnne became a high counselor to the court of seven, and he was seen as both just and mighty until he died. Liall was not as fortunate. She was young and beautiful, and the council of seven ordered her to breed until she had no more to give. It was a death sentence. Worst of all, she hadn't produced any other Mateil, even with Jnne. The children of Liall's breeding went on to have more Raz with dark eyes, and their children were as ordinary as them. However, Liall and Jnne's children were infertile...all except one. Erina. He was told she was beautiful. Her eyes were unlike anyone else's, almost as if they were made of glowing ferns, but still were as pitch black as the night. She had a delicate smile, and her curls were the color of red clay. Who she'd bred with was never known, and would never be discovered. Erina had not survived Kazimir's birth, and he'd grown up in the sanctuary of the Malkuth's home for broken orphans. He'd grown up among those with bodies too deformed for any practical use. Spiderish children with long bony limbs and a propensity to climb the walls were the least threatening. They didn't want to be bothered by anyone as they continued to grow in limbs but not in their torso. There were biggish, too. They came in many varieties. Some had hardened skin, others had extra limbs, but none acted entirely right. A few had mouths set vertically, and others with gemstone eyes. Any given day, they produced a cacophony of noises from rattles to shrieking, but the amount of conversation was limited to nearly none. Kazimir was one of very few who had any functional usefulness at all. He could work, and he did in the garden, and he could read and write. He was fast on his feet and quick-witted. His orphan madam was sure if he hadn't been born with his sort of affliction, he might have been able to make something of himself. No matter how many books he dragged his fingers over, reading the raised scores of old stories, it didn't change the one indelible truth of his world: he did not belong. Even as Kazimir stood before the temple gate, dumbfounded by its size and glory, he couldn't find it in himself to believe that anyone would listen to him. Mateil were not useless, they simply needed to be in the right environment. He could see everything in Tiphareth. Did anyone else know of its wondrous grace from curling plants to the curves and tangles of plants too lovely to ignore? He snapped out of his thoughts as the guards came to the gate and pulled at the handles, drawing it open with a groan and whine of metal. Their helmets were decorated with horns and burned insignia of the capital--barren dragons with long curved claws and a gaping snout filled with razor teeth tearing a cavern boar in half. It was a handsome work of art, but the colors were all wrong. The inky blood was much more ruby under the right light, and the barren dragons were more gray than brown. They didn't know. "Papers?" the guard said, holding out a calloused laden hand. "Right!" Kazimir jumped back, patting his vest and tunic, then the pockets of his pants before finding the folded invitation. "Here it is--it's for uh...um..." The guard snatched the invitation and opened it. His finger raced over the scores as he stared at Kazimir, his face twisted into a snarl. "You'll have audience with Anorii Trpimira. One toll, only." "I only need thirty clicks..." he muttered, taking back the invitation as the other guard turned and used his bladed staff as a walking stick, leading the way down the long blanched cobble path through luminary fern and shrubs to the polished steps of the temple. Kazimir took a steadying breath. He'd never met any of the Anorii, but he knew enough to feel the quivering of fear rising through him, a menacing vibration that crawled his skin and rang in his ears. His jaw clenched tight, teeth gnashing as he swallowed down the terror threatening to rip from him in a scream. The guard hauled the door open and held out his hand, offering Kazimir to enter ahead of him. He nodded, hardly able to breathe--to move--and carefully stepped into the grand foyer. His gaze lifted, and his jaw fell slack as he turned in a slow circle to take in the majesty of the tall walls and the even higher curved ceiling. When the guard spoke to the attendant at the desk, a leggy woman--the hind two much longer and curved than front four--scuttled by, her sharpened covering clacking against the stone sent wild waves through the air and they ricocheted off the waves from conversation he'd not bothered to listen to, and it all crashed into him like a tsunami. He cringed, curling in on himself, cursing beneath his breath. The guard spun around, his voice shattered into reverberations of fragmented questions. "My head," he whined, dropping to his knees. "Dampen the incense!" the attendant called down the hall. "The Mateil is here!" "Incense?" he was barely able to look up, finding the room suddenly rushed with hooded acolytes to snuff the burning bowls. "Mateil can't endure the potency of Icha leaves," the attendant growled at the guard, "it makes them weak and sick. Will you be cleaning up the spew?" "Apologies," the guard responded. Kazimir fell forward onto his shoulders, head tucked under as he continued writhing on the ground. He groaned and growled through every breath as the vibrations waved over him. One after another they pulled him under. Then, without warning, a scream broke from the depth of his chest and exploded out in a heated blast of light and force, shaking the temple and leveling the guards. In the silence, Kazimir panted, sweat rolling down his temple. The vibrations had stopped. He looked around, his eyes going wide...it had happened again.