The Summer Dragon by Todd Lockwood

Author:Todd Lockwood
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2016-04-11T13:41:36+00:00

“In ages past, before Korruzon, there was Asha. This was a temple that revered Asha. It’s a name once given to the original Source, but not the tale the Rasaal tells, of Korruzon as world-creator, who pushed mountains and seas into their present shapes with the writhing of His preordinal body. It is simpler, but harder to explain, too.

“Asha is a name, but not for a deity. It means Truth, no more, but no less—the Eternal Law, whether one understands it or not.” He presented the entire room with his extended arms. “This is Asha as they understood it. Look at the carvings. Above each door, marking each transition to a next phase, you see a spirit embodying a season. Getig as the Avar of material abundance and fullness—see the sun high in the sky, above fields of crops. Now move counterclockwise around the room, the way the planet spins if you view it from the pole.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I didn’t interrupt.

“Observe images of fields being harvested but also of conflict. What are those machines? I have never seen the like. Sweet Avar, the detail is astounding!” His lips were quivering. “Then comes Waeges in the north, the Autumn Dragon with her leafy mien.”

Mabir shivered. “If Getig symbolizes a tipping point, then Waeges signifies a world at the midpoint of mad descent, when Order gives way to Chaos.” His face fell all at once, and his voice caught in his throat. “And then, after Waeges, we see full-scale war.”

A tear slid down his cheek, and I looked to where his gaze directed me. An image I’d barely studied before: dragons carved into a smoke-filled sky, battling strange beasts with rigid wings and odd ovoid shapes, like whales festooned with sails and other artifice. Not natural creatures, but constructs. And in the terrain below, more strange machinery, like horseless wagons with bizarre ballistae or other weapons unknown built into their frames. Buildings burned, people turned anguished faces to the sky.

“Menog in the west marks the low point,” he continued, “the setting of the sun. Perhaps the most intangible of the Avar. See how the sculptor rendered His wings as transparent. Even in stone, the background shows through. Brilliant. Menog symbolizes the spiritual center that remains when all else has fallen into ruin—the true heart of us. And He is the promise of Renewal; note the seeds at his feet. Between Menog and Oestara, the conflict ends in ruin, but in the midst of the decay, at the edge of the season, people return, buildings are erected, fields are sown. Peace settles again. The Avar of Spring, Oestara, rises with the sun on the southern wall, and the cycle begins anew.”

The creases of his face were damp with tears.

“You see here a telling not just of seasons but more importantly of the Cycles, the greater turnings of a cosmic wheel. The seasons turn. A life is born, gives birth to another life, then passes. Entire civilizations rise and fall again.

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