Obsidian by Alan Baxter

Author:Alan Baxter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-08-14T04:00:00+00:00

16

Edmund approached Oldtown, trepidatious. The streets of Ward One were dirty and strewn with rubbish and broken things. The few inhabitants on the very edges of the ward were nervous, tense, as they watched him go by. He did his best to ignore them. Only the dregs made their home anywhere near Ward One, the oldest sector of Obsidian, abandoned to ghosts and ghouls and people best forgotten. Edmund could never understand what drew a person to this despicable place. Obsidian was big enough for everyone and growing all the time, without the need to live here among the spirits of evil and dissent. Even the hierarchy said to avoid the area. Those who did come here often went missing, if the stories were to be believed. He hoped he wouldn’t become one of the lost.

Ward One itself was not a big area, but it buffered the rest of Obsidian from Oldtown — the original place, as they were told in church, where everything began. Where the gods noticed the debauchery of the people, the savagery of life, killing and war, and decided to do something about it. They razed Oldtown and only those pure of heart survived and moved on. The Seven and the Priests were given the power to grow a new world and Obsidian swelled from the ashes of the sins of Oldtown and the good folk moved away. Only the ghosts of evil inhabited Ward One now.

The gods smiled down and made Ascension real for those who lived by the new rules, empowering the hierarchy, led by the wisdom of the Seven, to see the people safely through this life. The hierarchy explained and enforced catechism, ensured breeding and piousness. For that they were rewarded with a small amount of Ascension here in Obsidian, their very bodies already partially Ascended. But that difference which seemed to set them apart so powerfully, even made them look different, was a curse as well. They were trapped forever here, the guardians of the way. They would always live in Obsidian, never fully Ascended, even as they spent endless, selfless lifetimes seeing the lowen safely risen. And it was a burden they were happy to bear for the greater benefit of the many.

So the lowen were told in church, at least. It was all flawed in Edmund’s mind. Something had always told him there had to be more to the story. There had to be more to life itself. He had seen the pictures of Ascension, just like everyone else. He had witnessed the magical moving images of the utopian afterlife that awaited the pious, colours and landscapes that stunned the mind. He wanted to believe it was true, but couldn’t. His heart was blackened with doubt.

He stared across the first grubby street of Ward One towards Oldtown, somewhere beyond the broken-down buildings. He had been this far before as a child. Who hadn’t? Everyone rose to the dares of their friends as they grew up, ventured to the very edges of the dead Ward.

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