The Book of Archon

“What have you done?!” Aluric's voice boomed as The Maker crossed over the entrance to Talatus still clutching the child in his arms, “You fool! You've brought that… that thing into our home?! It doesn't belong here, in our city, in our world, it's an abomination! You have no idea what it is!” His berating of his Father was followed by a mixture of agreeing mumbles and disapproving grunts from his siblings.

“I said you were a fool to even think of chasing after it, and now… oh, father, you are a greater fool than I had thought.” Aluric's words were scathing and unapologetic, his fear had turned to anger and aimed itself at The Maker.

“Watch your tone, boy!” The Maker's voice thundered louder than any of the Gods had heard him before, Aluric was taken aback by his father's anger. “I am no fool! I am your creator. I am older than all who stand in this city put together and multiplied, I have taken longer breaths than you have lived. Who are you to question my judgement? Look at this child… look at it. You would have me leave it… out there starving and alone? Leave it defenceless for the rest of whatever short life it would've had?”

Aluric went silent for a moment, stunned by the harshness of what his father had said, “Who am I to question your judgement? Who am I?...Your son. I have watched you for thousands of years, father and this… this is not the man who created me, who raised me.” Aluric scolded his father.

“In years gone by you would have thought first of your children over some wild quest to put us all in danger! That child is poisoning your mind, father! How can you not see it?” Aluric turned to the crowd, a sea of confused faces staring back at him.

“Am I truly the only one to see it for what it is?” The crowd continued to stare, “It's a monster! How can none of you see it? We don't know what it is… where it came from, we know nothing and yet… and yet you bring it to our home. I don't know how but it's changing you, it's getting in your mind father and it is changing you. For the worse.”

Aluric seemed saddened by his own words as he watched his father's loyalty shift. Just a day since the child had first been heard and already it had begun to tear their millennia strong family apart.

“It can't stay here. It can't. Father it must...it must be destroyed or at the very least you must cast it out from this place before it destroys us” Aluric shouted,

“Can't you see, Aluric. I have not changed. I never… never would have left this child out there. I could never carry out an act so cold, so wicked.” said The Maker.

The Maker looked into the child's eyes and then back to Aluric, “It is not I who is changing. You, Aluric, you are being poisoned. Not by the boy but by yourself! Your fear is twisting you up inside, you're not thinking clearly, Aluric. Don't you understand?”

“It's not fear, father. It is rightful concern… you have brought a dangerous creature behind our gates… not stopping for even a moment to think of what it could do to us, and I am the one not thinking clearly?” Aluric looked away for his father and went quiet for a moment, the entire square fell silent with him.

“Destroy it… father. Or I will.” Aluric's hand reached down behind his back as he spoke and from the air he formed a blade, a long gleaming sword, the first this universe had seen, the very first weapon. Aluric gripped the glistening blue sword tightly in his hand.

The Maker watched his son ready and attack, preparing to bring his blade down and destroy a mere child.

“Don't do this… please, Aluric.” The Maker said in a firm but pleading tone, “I will protect this child… from anyone. I won't let fear kill an innocent creature.”

“But you would let that same creature destroy us, your true family. You offer us up to it, bring it to our door and welcome it in.” Aluric replied, standing his ground against his father.

The whole city was silent, waiting with baited breath. None of The Maker's children dared say a word to interrupt the argument.

None… except Inala, who stepped between the feuding father and son holding her hands up on either side of her body, using herself as a barrier between her brother and father.

“Don't let this child tear us apart, we have built too much and done too much for it to devolve into chaos now. I don't trust that child, father, neither should you.” She too went quiet for a moment, "But… if you believe it should live here…with us.” she turned her gaze, alternating between Aluric and The Maker.

“Then so be it. I won't stand in your way, but make no mistake, I agree that you have been an almighty fool this day.” The Maker looked down at the floor upon hearing her words, enraging Aluric was one painful thing but disappointing Inala stung in a far different way. “Sheathe your blade Aluric, now. And Father…” she sighed “take the child to your palace, raise it and if and when it is ready… you bring it to Talatus.”

The two men looked at each other. Aluric had stopped listening a few moments ago, he was distracted by what was now the only thing he cared about.

During the fued, as Aluric drew his sword and the father and son squared off against each other. As they were preparing themselves for this universe's first acts of violence… the child… it was smiling.

The Maker felt some strange sense of pride in watching his daughter take charge and become the voice of reason.

He was happy to listen to her instructions. The Maker felt it fair to adhere to her guidelines, if only to give the other Gods time to grow accustomed with the idea of Archon living amongst them. Especially Aluric.

And so The Maker promptly did as she said, he conjured a portal and vacated Talatus immediately, returning to his palace with the child.

He settled the boy in a makeshift bed in the corner of the palace's bedroom. He made a toy for the child, a small ugly creature that didn't truly resemble any living thing.

But the child loved it nonetheless, snatching it from The Maker's hand and cuddling it tightly as he finally drifted off to sleep, safe for the first time in its life.

The Maker gently placed a hand on the sleeping boys head, “it's okay… it's all going to be okay. Aluric can be… rageful. But he'll come around Archon, he'll see. I can already tell you're going to be a good man.”

Unbeknownst to The Maker, in Talatus' now empty square, as the sun set casting a deep orange warmth over the city, Aluric remained. He stood in the same place he had been when The Maker left, when everyone had left.

Aluric still held tightly onto his blade with a white-knuckled grip, in his heart Aluric knew he would not survive a battle with his father if it came to it, but how could he allow that creature to live with them he thought.

They didn't even know what the boy was or where he'd come from but Aluric could tell it would come back to haunt them if something wasn't done.

But Aluric knew it would solve nothing to challenge his father again. And so he huffed in anger before turning and walking for the first time towards Talatus’ tavern. It was in this tavern Aluric spent the night, and many after, drowning his anger in a never ending flow of Aether.

The drink of the Gods was a deep green liquid with a thick and creamy texture, it was far stronger than any mead or ale and that suited Aluric just fine.

It was in his drunken state that he thought to himself,

“How can they all be so stupid?” He slurred, “Do they not see what this child is doing? It's… it's poisoning their minds… it must be. They…they're not thinking straight. He's not thinking straight.”

Aluric spoke of The Maker with a new disdainful tone for the man he once idolised, “I can't trust him anymore… I can't trust any of them…and if… if I can't trust the Gods… then I’ll have to find someone else…” a wicked smile eked its way across Aluric's face as he spoke.

The next morning The Maker awoke once more in the large bedroom with the small balcony and the portal window to Hyperion, which he had taken to calling the Hyperview.

He sat up and looked over at the cot he had made and saw the small child still soundly sleeping, a small snore escaping him every now and then and a steady stream of dribble between his mouth and the pillow.

“Good morning Archon…” he whispered so as not to wake the boy, “today we'll go on a little trip, I'll show you my favourite place in the whole universe.” Archon stirred slightly in the crib burbling to himself, perhaps dreaming.

When the baby woke The Maker scooped him from the cot, a flash of Deja Vu hitting him from when he'd taken the boy from the cave, he made little Archon breakfast and fashioned a blanket and clothes from one of his fine robes for the child.

The Maker carried Archon onto the balcony, rocking him gently as the baby cooed in his arms, and pointed to the mountain where he had spent many an hour, many a year just sitting and thinking, “that's where we're going today… isn't it beautiful?” the baby just gurgled, though it may have been a good gurgle.

The Maker dressed in hiking gear and packed a small bag of food for the child before he conjured the portal and teleported them both to the base of the mountain.

They stood and looked up the mountain pass that led to the peak, winding its way around the sides of the mountain.

After a moment of final preparation at the base, The Maker began the journey to the top, he carried the child in his arms and regaled him with stories of his time in the universe.

The Maker told the boy of epic adventures in the stars fighting monsters and saving lives. All of which were fictional of course, but still the child gurgled and laughed with The Maker.

The pair travelled up the mountain for hour after hour, only stopping for The Maker to take a break and feed the child. Soon they came to the end of the path and found themselves standing at the peak.

The Maker stood with the child in his arms still wrapped in blankets, looking down into the purple eyes of the child.

“We're here he said…” he said, slightly out of breath after the many hours of walking.

The Maker approached a large boulder at the top of the mountain and sat atop it, surveying Hyperion once more. The fields and hills sprawled before him, the beauty of his world astounded him as it always had.

“Archon… my children.” The Maker began with a heavy sigh, “their fear is overwhelming… they… they don't understand you and to be truthful… nor do I.”

The Maker looked into shining eyes of the child, “But I promise…” he continued, “Soon they will move past their feelings. They'll see you as I do. They must do…”

The Maker's words were meant to reassure the child but instead it felt they were more for his benefit than Archon's.

“Aluric can be… rageful. He always has been but… you inspired something within him that I'd never seen.” The Maker spoke with a heavy voice when referring to Aluric, “Give him time. He'll come around. I won't let anything happen to you.”

The Maker and Archon sat atop the peak for many hours, watching the sun go down until Hyperion was covered completely in inky black night.

Over the years, as Archon grew, The Maker travelled with the boy up the mountain time and time again. They climbed the mountain on the same day once a year, they had never discussed this but it became an unspoken tradition.

As Archon grew into a young man of twenty years, The Maker and the boy travelled once more up the sacred mountain. And once more, The Maker regaled his son with fantasifull stories from his past. And still, Archon hung on every word.

As they sat again on the boulder at the peak, The Maker turned to his son.

“You've grown to be quite a fine young man Archon, you truly impress me.” He said,

“Thank you, father.” Archon said, a smile spread across the young man's face. His hair had grown out into a short but thick head of black hair and his eyes grew a deeper purple as he aged.

Archon and The Maker sat and watched the sun set as they had every time previous and for the first time in a very long while The Maker felt content.