Adal Finds a Calendar

Seven times seven times seven, numbered those who could break the peace. Numbered them before Stalwart. Stalwart’s decree declared each ceremony must have in attendance one Kineser. To each ceremony one Kineser came, seven constructs in attendance, seven constructs ready to unmake the birth

“Now let’s see what happens when we compare that to this.”

Year 0

The Bargain

Year 1

The Believer

Year 2

The Breaking

Year 3

The Deceiver

“Ha! Look at this Matthew!”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“No,” Adal chortled, “the years back whenever this was written were named after the biggest event of the season. By the fourth title they already ran out of ‘b’ words. Ha! Not The Bluffer or The Blatant Lier or The Bastard What Done Tricked Us. No, all the calendographer could come up with was a rhyme.”

“Is that important?”

Adal snorted, “Heh. Of course it’s important: it speaks of history many ages ago. Back when alliterations were difficult and history was kept by buffoons. I am eternally grateful we were exempt from such evils in this era.”

“But what do the years mean?”

“Everything. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know. It says King Stalwart, so pass me the page on Stalwart. ”

Adal gestured impatiently with such conviction that Matthew looked down at his hands. They were empty, “You’re already holding it.”

“Good show! Let’s see, Year: burn mark, hmmm, let’s move down a bit. Ear 1, wonder what happened to the other one. Can’t hear without two ears I always say. To quote the rather mediocre philosopher Stillow, ‘Hurry up and read me a page that will get us out of here and to shelter, before we all freeze to death.’”

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“I’ve never said that,” Stillow called from behind the mound of blackened tomes he was busy stacking atop the broken pillars of a temple, “now hurry up and read me a page that will get us out of here and to shelter, before we all freeze to death.”

Ahem! In the year 1657 Stalwart addressed his people for the last time. He stood on the podium with his arms raised most impressively and his beard most magnificently slapping the cardinal points in accordance with the wind. Then a squalling old man started whining and nobody could hear what Stalwart had to say.

“How mysterious! What does it all mean?” Adal said, “Perhaps it’s a metaphor for our own time?”

Stillow peered around his pile to read over Adal’s shoulder, “That’s not what it says at all! It’s about Kineser.”

Adal rubbed his eyes with blackened hands, giving him the appearance of a raccoon, “Why, you’re right Stillow! I got the translation entirely wrong! I’ll try again shall I?”

The Kineser wish to see me dead. A unified dom is a dom even they cannot defeat; our hearts are too large, our armies are too mighty. The Kineser invented time, therefore my years shall not be their years. My first year of rule will be Year 0, and I shall call this year Betrayal.

“That’s odd. We have a contradiction here. Was Year 0 the Betrayal or the Bargain? So far as I remember, the Kineser’s took a year or eight to go back on their deathless vows. Perhaps the rest of the calendar will provide us answers,” Adal’s eyes roamed across the page, “Aha, here’s one that even has a bit of text attached:”

Year 18

The Genuflection

“Ha! No imagination on the louts one bit. Genuflection instead of a word everybody uses, and, conveniently, starts with b!”

“The first years may have been a coincidence—”

“There is no such thing as coincidence. Gods play their games, and we dance amongst the dice, hopping from square to square, hoping one day to climb the ladder, and capture enough knights to be kinged.”

“Your metaphor has rendered me as a plank of wood, Adal,” called Stillow.

“Board are you? You asked to come.”

Stillow blinked haughtily, “When did I ever say I was bored? I feel as though I’m about to be nailed to the roof and lathered in tar. These books have put a stain in my toga.”

“Can you please continue reading the page, Adal?” Matthew asked.

“I would have already if you had not interrupted.”

In the 18th Year, the Kineser’s War was finally brought to a close. The united doms had slain near fifty of the Order, causing them to surrender to the royals. Despite the apparent peace, a silent war, which continues to this day, began. Those suspected as being Kineser were burned at the stake or drowned in the ocean. Royals were replaced with simulacrums who incited mayhem and civil war. As time goes on, and more doms form, the threat becomes lesser. But on black nights, with not even the stars as witness, both sides deal death in dark shadows.

Adal licked his dry lips, “Genocide, and dark shadows; terrible. I suppose they also had light shadows in the Failed Empire. I wonder… The Maharal people were still doing kinesics when I was young. Perhaps they were the descendants of a Kineser fellow who decided to hide away in a tribal village. Or perhaps he formed the village. Secrecy, deception, murder, and a wagon filled with blackened tomes. Isn’t this exciting?”