Of Men Made Gods

5. A Duel

A Duel

LIGHT CAME STREAMING through the high windows of the Hall of Gathering. Its golden touch made tier upon tier of marble seats gleam in dazzling brilliance, warming the stone seats which were made by long dead people who wished to remind their descendants that a place of power should always be thought of as a burden. Yet, in brazen negligence of that reminder most of the hall members had grown the habit of making their slaves carry cushions to pad their privileged piece of marble.

Sitting on his own cushioned seat, Avon watched as people around him took their places. He watched with satisfaction the fruits of the efforts he had made after meeting with Elizo last night. The hall was full, and some of his friends were the ones who had made sure it was. He was taking no chances today. He had called in all his favors, some even he barely remembered himself, to make sure almost all the usually absent Hall members came.

This morning the place was not filled with the usual murmur of light hearted conversations, instead it was the little groups of tense and hushed conversations that reverberated off the stone walls to reach distant parts of the hall as incomprehensible echoes.

Avon knew what they were talking about. The news of the late Eaelom's passing had reached the whole city like a water drop in a dry land, and was greedily received by its inhabitants as swiftly as that water drop would disappear into the thirsty earth.

Most people in Tricuta received the death as a normal news of an old man dying, which let them forget for the time being the usual updates of the frightening war that seemed to get closer by the day. And a few despairing souls saw it as only another disaster that marked the beginning of the end, for they had thought only the legendary man could have led them down the right path to flee the darkness that would soon engulf everything they held dear. But all were in agreement that it was odd to have the gathering in a day which should have been used for mourning alone.

Snippets of conversation reached his ear, as those around him carelessly commented on the rumored appearance of his old friend today. An action they unthinkingly, and loudly, viewed as callous. Yet, instead of getting angry at their badmouthing Elizo, Avon only felt a burning guilt ride through him as he sat silently.

 Although he hadn't been the one to call the meeting today, he felt like he was doing something wrong. Wanting to ease his stifling conscious, he said, "Should I've gone to his house first before coming here?"

"Yes," came the prompt reply from beside him. "No," followed a second later as his wife seemed to debate with herself, "I don't know."

"Thanks," said Avon, a smile sneaking up his face, "at least now I know I'm not alone in my confusion."

"Oh, but you are," said Caenphis, watching the people in the hall as she spoke seriously. "I don't need to know what to do since I'm not his friend."

"Hmm," he said, sounding an acknowledgment of the sad fact.

"In any case, does it really matter now?" she asked, turning to him for a moment. "I remember your father used to say 'Walking backwards does no one good'."

Hearing the saying, which his father had told him was a wisdom their people had picked up while searching for a new home, made Avon's smile get tainted with a hint of sadness as a sudden flood of nostalgia hit him hard and buried him in distant memories.

By the time he returned from his sudden plunge into the past, all in the hall had quieted down as the golden doors before them opened. Leaving his seat like everyone else, he watched as an old woman stepped into the hall to take the place of the old Master of the Hall. He recognized her immediately.