The Book of Archon

In the many, many years it took to grow his family The Maker had seen fit to create a new home for his children. The process of creating this new home took a surprisingly short 100 years, he had created a separate plain for his children, not like the plains of Hyperion with its rolling hills and fields but a plain outside of space and time, another realm in essence.

In this new plain he had built a thousand homes for a thousand children, courtyards and parks and any other common sight in a city. The new city took on a grand mediaeval image, its architecture of cobbled streets and grey, stone walled houses with thatched roofs.

Intricately carved ornate doors, lanterns and other decorations were scattered throughout, littering the streets. The city was a sight to behold; it was truly marvellous.

All of The Maker's children had moved one by one to this plain and settled into their new domain, the domain of the Gods…Talatus.

Talatus became a city of great beauty and near impenetrable security where the new gods could hone their skills and abilities but still keep a watchful eye over their beloved Hyperion.

Separated still to Talatus in its own adjacent realm The Maker had erected a palace, a beautiful tower of white rock walls lined with gold and jade to remind him of where this homestead had begun. The palace was far too big for The Maker alone, but that was how he wanted it.

The Maker found solace in the size and sheer emptiness of the colossal structure. The palace it was a reminder for the ancient being of where he'd come into life, drifting through space in endless silence completely and utterly alone.

It was curious, The Maker thought, that once he had wanted nothing more than companionship. And now he hid himself away and even felt happier that way, more at peace. How ironic, he thought.

The Maker awoke in the palace's only bedroom, a large circular room with a large balcony on the left side.

The balcony was lined with ornate railings decorated with carvings of The Maker's life, starting on the left with his first voyage into the universe, to the creation of Ilana and Aluric in the middle and finally the creation of Talatus served as the last panel.

The Maker would spend most mornings sitting on the balcony watching through a magical window of sorts that he had created to show him Hyperion.

This morning as The Maker sat upright in bed and turned to look onto the balcony, through the interdimensional window and out onto the plains of Hyperion.

He shifted the window's view to the field where he'd heard the crying child. But now The Maker heard only silence.

He heard no distress call of a weak and defenceless babe and thought for a moment once more that he had imagined it, that his time wandering alone had caused his mind to conjure the noise and deceive him.

The Maker was not deterred however, he would still venture out to plains and search for the child, perhaps fruitlessly but he couldn't bring himself to ignore the call.

The Maker stood up from his bed and got dressed into a large fine set of robes and a pair of simple boots.

He packed a bag of food and resources for his journey to Hyperion, anticipating a long exploration into the wilderness.

Once The Maker felt he was sufficiently prepared he conjured his portal and transported himself back to the mainland of Hyperion.

Upon arrival he wasted no time in setting out towards the field, a pang of guilt stabbed at his heart as he remembered his children's words, how they warned him, the look of fear on their faces.

The Maker regretted ignoring their warnings but still he could not bring himself to turn his back on this quest.

After hours of scouring the field for any sign of life, having climbed to the tops of the thick redwood trees in a nearby forest to better survey the land from the great height.

After checking every nook, cranny, crevice and pit the fields and plains had to offer The Maker had all but given up hope, the child was gone.

Or worse yet, the baby had never even existed. The Maker finally turned, defeated, and began to walk away from his search.

As he strolled through the haunting quiet of the night, basking under the cool white light of the moon… there it was. A deep blood curdling screech echoing over the field, piercing the veil of silence.

Though painful to listen to and still carrying the weight of fear on its every note, the cry gave The Maker a feeling of happiness and even victory, it was real, it had always been real.

The Maker set out running like he had before but this time it wasn't an escape, it was a pursuit, a hunt for the lost child. The Maker zeroed in on the cry chasing the sound through the field for miles and miles.

He crossed through woods, streams, fields and rivers, over anything that stood in his way until finally… he stood before the mouth of a cave.

The cave was concealed by bushes and trees that hung over the entrance, dangling vines and branches obscuring it from view even more.

It was a small and damp cave, the entrance jagged and lined with sharp stalagmites and stalactites which formed a toothy maw gaping open at him.

A stench of stagnant water and rot emanated from within and it took all of his courage to continue for even another step.

As he approached the entrance something in his mind told him to run. To run away and never return. That The Maker should leave this place and never again let it grace his eyes.

But he didn't listen, he couldn't. And so, The Maker took his first step across the threshold of the gnarled monstrous cave.

The instant he crossed through the teeth-like stones that marked the entrance, it was as though all sound and life had left Hyperion.

The winds came to a dead stop, he could no longer hear the rustling of the trees just ten paces back, even the deafening cry of the child that had carried him across the vast expanse of the plains now gave way to silence.

“What is the place…?” The Maker said out loud, though even his own words were now imperceptible.

In the centre of the round cave, covered in stalagmites and stalactites up and down almost every surface, was a rough bowl shaped structure. A jagged piece of rock jutted out of the earth with a circular bowl surrounded by spikes at the very top.

The Maker cautiously approached the bowl and as he slowly peered over the top, there it was. A small naked child, a boy, screaming in silence his mouth agape and tears rolling down his face but no sound to go along with the boy's expression.

Looking down at the screeching child The Maker panicked and hurriedly scooped up the child wrapping it in his arms.

“I can't leave you here…” he said silently, “I have to get you out.” and with those final words The Maker began running, running as far as he could from this wretched place and as he ran he looked down to the child's face.

He was pale skinned with the first growths of thick black hair and dazzling purple eyes that gave off a slight glow.

The Maker stopped, now back in the wilderness a few moments outside of the cave, still looking at the rescued child.

“Archon…” The Maker said after a moment of silenly staring into the boy's eyes, the word escaping just as easily and just as involuntarily as Fear and Afraid. “Is that your name?” The Maker thought, “Archon.”

The small child gurgled happily at The Maker, its demeanour changing entirely the moment The Maker had carried it through the cave's exit.

The Maker stripped the outermost layer of his robes and folded into a large comfortable blanket that he used to swaddle the baby, “There you go…” The Maker said, “Safe and warm.”

He looked into the child's eyes once more, their purple hue glistening in the soft moonlight, “We're going home, Archon… I pray you'll never see that place again. In fact I pray that for myself too.”

The Maker sighed and placed the bundled child down on the ground before he finished preparing for his journey home.

After a moment he retrieved the boy. The Maker gently poked the child's nose, garnering a giggle before pulling the baby in close and setting off on his return to Talatus.

As he walked through the woods with the child The Maker felt something, something deep down that told him this child was special, very special.

The Maker knew of course that the child was unique, its mysterious appearance and clouded origin told him that, but this was something different.

As he walked, The Maker could almost feel the child's potential, as an actual tangible force, as though it's future presence was bleeding into the present day.

Once more a hint of fear crept into The Maker's mind, he thought for a moment on whether his children had been right.

This child could be any number of things and any number of them dark and terrible but The Maker chose not to dwell on these thoughts, it was too late.The decision was made.

The Maker had searched for, found and for better or worse retrieved the child. Now, the only thing The Maker could do was wait.

Once he had taken the time to think and walk with the child, The Maker conjured the portal to Talatus. He stared into the swirling vortex of thick green smoke and a heavy sigh escaped his body,

“For better or for worse.” He said as a quiet reassurance, a justification for his decision. And with that final thought, he stepped through.