Lightspeed Magazine, Issue 162 (November 2023) by John Joseph Adams

Author:John Joseph Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Adamant Press
Published: 2023-10-31T20:45:10+00:00

©2023 by Winston Turnage.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Winston Turnage writes fiction and essays from Seattle. His writing has appeared in Meridian Magazine and here in Lightspeed. You can follow his future publications and subscribe to his essays at his website, inarticulate.xyz.

The Moment Before the Moment

Martin Cahill | 5639 words

Azahn had been the ninety-third Imperial Foresight to the Dynasty of Silken Flame for only three weeks when he was forcibly retired.

His body had been blessed by the holy waters of the Sky-Vein River, and he had earned the named-blade Stalwart Thy Mind, Strong Thy Arm, even now strapped to his back. He had trained his entire life to wrestle the great lion-headed guardian that lies at the top of the world, Yagadhan, who he grappled with for a day and a night until surrender.

Azahn was having trouble being told that all of his accomplishments had all been for nothing.

Kneeling before the Phoenix-Touched Empress, the deity-upon-earth he had sworn to defend until his dying breath and even undeath, Azahn struggled to listen as she spoke.

“My loyal blade,” she said, voice deep in her middle years, brow aflame and burning as she looked on him, sorrow bright in her molten eyes. “I know you have worked your whole life to serve me. You’d not have eaten of the Tomorrow Root if you did not see a comforting future stretching out before you. I see in your eyes, even now, the holy plant works its magic.”

Azahn looked away, desperate to hide the kelp-green and flower-gold flecks he knew floated across his pupils, a sign of his station, his purpose. To be Foresight was to know what came next, to see the fractal shadows of futures yet to come and act accordingly, all to keep Her Holiness safe from those that would extinguish her flame.

The memory comes back, unbidden. The pride at besting Yagadhan, panting and beaten, watching him with proud, gilded eyes. Azahn’s hands, weak and shaking, as he reached into the earth and plucked free the green and gold root of the Tree-At-The-Peak-Of-The-World, which towered above him like a column of silver fire.

He had been crying. Why, he could not say, did not remember.

The root was chewy, rough on his tongue and teeth. Bitter in ways he hadn’t expected; blood flavored the mythic plant as it tore open his gums. For the next week, he felt a piece of the root stuck between two of his back teeth. It was a painful and humbling haunting in the week his body was purified in oils, chanted over, draped in silks.

When he flossed it free, he felt relief and heartbreak twin through him at its loss.

“Your Majesty,” he finally ventured, “have I done something to offend? I know that I’m new, I know your last Foresight was cut down—”

She raised a perfect hand. Azahn shut his mouth. “No, my Foresight,” she said, with just a fraction more kindness, “what happened to your Auntie has nothing to do with you, nor have you done anything to offend. In fact, your reverence for this station, this throne, only makes you glow brighter in my eyes.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.