ViraCocha: Books One And Two – Excerpt

Book One

There is an old legend of two suns that fell from the sky.  One landed in the mountains, the other in the sea.  The mountain sun was found, and became guide to a people.  The sea sun slept in the dark waters, waiting.  They say the time will come when the machinations of man and woman will rouse the suns, and they will ascend again into the sky.  And there, they will better the world, or they will end it…

Chapter 1
City of Life
The Summons

 “All right, Eden, explain the Trinity Principle.”

The youth looked up from his book, the marks of his supporting hand fresh on his cheek.  “What?  Again?  Avir, have we not reviewed the Principle enough?”

Avir sighed, rubbing his black hair.  “We all must know the Principle, Eden,” he said, then added, to head off any objection, “And simply reciting the Principle is not the same as understanding it.”

Eden began to grumble, but knew further complaints would be unbecoming for a member of his family.  He straightened in his chair, blinked several wheat-blond strands from his eyes, began.  “The Trinity Principle is the foundation of our society, bestowed upon us by Vira.  It states: Through Strength, Vigilance, and Love, we create Peace.”

Avir nodded, and paced slowly before the grand windows of the study, dark and slender in the sunlight.  His leather-bound notebook he held behind him with both hands.  “Explain each, and their relationships.”

Eden’s eyes wandered past his friend and tutor to the world beyond the windows.  Those private courtyards of the estate were so close.  He wanted to go out to spar, but the lesson came first.

He said, “Strength means to have a strong body, mind, and will — knowing when to advance, yield, or even concede defeat, in all things.  It is the strength to pursue and to protect what you love in the face of any hardship.  It is important, through Vigilance, to know where and how to apply this strength to the betterment of oneself through objective evaluation.  To truly prosper, one must apply this strength in every aspect of life.”

Avir gave Eden a little smile — a teacher’s smile — at the explanation.  “Good.  Sparse perhaps, but good.”

Eden knew Avir always used that smile when doling out criticism, at which he gave a mocking sneer when Avir was not looking.

“Remember that true strength lies not simply in self-sufficiency, but in knowing when to accept or refuse the aid of others,” said Avir.  “Next?”

“Vigilance is being aware of oneself and of the world.  Being mindful of the environment around oneself, and of the actions one may take is key, as it is the difference between victory and defeat — again, in all things.  Vigilance is the acquisition of knowledge, acquired by our senses and integrated by our mind.  It is necessary to constantly evaluate acquired knowledge, to be open to other information and points-of-view, and to use logic in the assessment of such.”

Avir nodded, keeping his smile.  “Acceptable.  However, do not forget that actions have their consequences, and that there are many variations in both victory and defeat.”  He held his book against his chest, one-handed.  “Most importantly, remember that logic itself must also be evaluated and inspected for errors.  An error in logic is a contradiction, and must be resolved.”

Eden bit his lip, berating himself for missing such obvious details.

“And finally?” Avir asked.

“Love may be considered the most important element of the Principle, although all three are, in fact, equal.  Love is the admiration of virtue, of the best within us.  Love tempers violence with compassion and suspicion with optimism.  Love takes many forms, and extends not only to family and friends, but potentially to strangers — for through small acts of kindness, greater ones may be born.  To love is to value, and to value is to find that which is worthy of love.”

Avir walked around the desk to Eden’s side, his smile fading to an echo of itself.  “The exact words of the Principle texts.  Do you understand their meaning?” 

Eden looked into his friend’s bronze eyes.  “I…” he lowered his gaze, admitted, “no.”  He looked back up when Avir touched his shoulder.

“You will, in time,” Avir said, his smile now bright and kind.

Eden could not help but smile in turn.  “All right!”  He leapt to his feet, his confidence restored.  “Then what we need is a respite from studying.  Come.  Let us cross swords.”  He took Avir’s arm and pulled his friend from the study.  Avir only sighed.

The courtyard farthest from the expansive villa was Eden’s favorite.  Only a few meters from the vine-covered boundary wall, this courtyard was surrounded by cultivated flowerbeds, geometric topiaries, and flowering trees.  Eden preferred coming here shortly after midday, when, as now, the trees around the courtyard and beyond the wall shone with emerald light.  Along the way, the youths had retrieved their chosen weapons from the arsenal: long swords with a slight curve in the blade and hilt, each engraved with intricate golden vines.

Sheath secured in the jade fabric of his sash, Eden drew his blade.  “Are you ready, Avir?”

“Uh, I think so.”  Avir had always been nervous when it came to swordplay.  He could fight, although he was not a natural.  He drew his sword, gripping it firmly in both hands as if it might attempt an escape.

Eden kept his left hand at his back, body turned aside, right foot and sword arm forward.  This technique — more aggressive than most — was thus far his favorite.  A breeze swept over them, with it all the fragrances of a temperate forest in spring.  Amber petals drifted on the wind.  In that moment these friends stood together, Eden in white and green, Avir in violet and gold.

One sword raised and one sword lowered.  “On your guard, Avir!”  They vanished from sight into a tempest of blades.

The youths moved with an invisible speed unattainable to any but the Cocha.  They achieved this Alacrity by forcing their sophisticated musculature and nervous systems into overdrive.  Such a powerful ability took a physical toll, and required extensive training to sustain beyond a few moments.  Only this extreme speed allowed for such blinding swordplay.

They slipped in and out of existence, little more than clashes of sparks and slender silhouettes gone in a blink.  Eden pushed forward, driving into Avir’s defenses, forcing him to skirt and slip around the incoming blows.  Avir ducked those strikes by inches and went low, aiming for the moment’s exposure of Eden’s flank.  Blades met in heartbeat slices.  After some ten minutes, when their Alacrity energy began to diminish, they resorted to normal speeds.  Normal, that is, for Cocha.

“Do you tire already, Avir?”  Both were breathing hard but kept going.

“No more than you, Eden.”  Parry, twist, strike.

“Heh!  All right, may I inquire something from your academia?”  Dodge, spin, deflect.

“Anything you wish, Eden.”

Eden swung high for an intentionally obvious attack.  “What do you know of Ord Vormoun?”    

Avir froze suddenly in mid-step.  Eden’s blade went close.  Too close.  Red drops splashed against gray-white stone.

“Avir!”  Horror-stricken, Eden dropped his sword and reached his friend’s side in an instant.  Avir had not made a sound.  Eden touched his companion’s shoulder.  “Avir, your cheek…”

Now Avir realized what had happened.  He sheathed his sword, reached up to feel the wound, silently examined the blood on his fingers.  The downward stroke of the blade had laid bare muscle.  He gave no sign of any pain.

“A physician!  Quickly, we must…!”  Eden grabbed Avir’s arm and pulled him toward the villa, not even finishing his own sentence.

“Eden, it is all right.”

“It is not!” Eden barked.  He looked back, eyes wide in budding panic.  “We have to—!”

With his free hand, Avir wiped the blood from his cheek.  There was no longer any wound.  Eden stopped.  “Have you forgotten, Eden?” Avir said calmly.  “We have both gone through the Changing.  Such trifling nicks are of no consequence.”

The Changing was a biological process that altered the Cocha’s bodies into a form superior to those of their birth.  The Changing had been a gift to the Cocha millennia ago from their forefather, Vira.  Though the process itself was little understood, even with the Cocha’s advanced medical technologies, its effects were clear.

Manifesting as early as puberty, the Changing activated dormant sequences within the Code of Life, which gave great physical prowess and resilience to the Cocha.  After the Changing, life spans quadrupled, senses expanded, disease disappeared.  Even nails and teeth could be hardened at will, allowing them to serve as talons and fangs.  While these traits were held in common, some few Cocha entered a Second Changing later in life and emerged with special gifts — superior mental acuity, extrasensory perception, or even stranger abilities.  Yet perhaps the greatest power shared among all Cocha was that of Regeneration.

Eden blushed, remembering that basic fact which they had reviewed only the week before.  “Yes.  I did forget.”  He spoke softly, shame and relief mixing in his voice.  He took his friend’s hand in both of his and held it close.  Eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched, it was all he could do to keep from trembling.  “Forgive me, Avir.  I should not have asked such a question in the midst of battle.  If the blade had been but millimeters off, I… might have…”

Another hand pressed upon his and Eden looked into compassionate, copper eyes.  “You have done nothing for which you should be ashamed, Eden.  We have had many lively debates while sparring, and you went out of your way to make an obvious attack.  It was I who erred.  I allowed an unexpected question to distract me, and it caused you worry.  I apologize.”

They stared at each other.  Eden found himself at a loss.  “Um, that is… I, uh, but—”

Avir interrupted his stammering, “Remember from our studies?  In the intersection of Vigilance and Love?  Quote: Beware grief over events that did not transpire.  Do not dwell on what did not happen, but analyze it and scrutinize it, so it never becomes reality.”

Eden wanted to respond, wanted to say something, but only cocked his head like a chicken.

“It was a scratch,” Avir continued.  “Nothing more.  We have cut each other in our swordplay many times.  Why do you panic now?”

Eden finally wrestled back control of his voice.  “None of those injuries were anywhere above the shoulders, nor were any caused by my asking a question.  It was… unsettling.”

Avir nodded and clapped his hand on Eden’s.  “Then in the future we shall be much more careful.  Remember, however, that this will not assure the outcome.”

Eden smiled at this and confidence rekindled in his eyes.  “Yes.”

“Now then,” Avir slipped his hand free, “we must clean up this blood.  Lady Gwenathal would be most displeased to find a stain.”  He picked up Eden’s sword and handed it back.  It had moved so fast there was no need to clean the blade.

“Let the automatons do it.  That is what they are for,” Eden said as he sheathed his sword.

Avir turned back to him, planting his hands defiantly on his hips.  “No.  We made this mess so we will clean it up.”

Eden slouched.  He knew there was no hope of arguing.  “Very well.  We will need cloth and water.”

Avir smiled.  They found cleaning supplies in the nearby conservatory, a large glass dome for the cultivation of temperamental plants.  “Eden,” Avir asked as they returned to the stain, “what do you wish to know about such a place as Ord Vormoun?  It is an odd subject to broach so suddenly.  Is it your intention to make a sojourn?”

“Perhaps.  What do you know?”

“Ord Vormoun is an ancient crypt on the far northeastern border of the capital.  Expansion into that area has been forbidden since the founding of The Republic, which has left it heavily overgrown.  According to our histories, after the rebirth of our people, a group of Cocha refused to accept the teachings of Vira.  They are said to have traveled far and plundered much before Vira destroyed them and sealed their collected wealth in the labyrinth of Ord Vormoun, in which they lived.  Many have since tried to claim that great treasure.  I know of none who have succeeded.”

“But why did Vira destroy them for not accepting the Principle?” Eden asked, dipping his dirty cloth into the bucket.  “Could He not have let them be, as we do those few who leave?”

Avir did not look up from his ceaseless scrubbing.  “As I understand, when Vira bestowed the Trinity Principle upon our First Forbearers, those who resided at Ord Vormoun refused to abide by the full Principle.  They accepted only Strength and Vigilance, and even then not fully.”  He finished cleaning and folded his reddened cloth with meticulous precision.

Eden stroked his sharp chin.  “Still, why bring such terrible judgment upon those of Ord Vormoun?  Could they not have left to find their own land?”

Avir adopted that teacher’s smile again.  “Love is that which binds Strength and Vigilance.  To paraphrase the appropriate text: Love is that which tempers.  Imagine an empire, founded solely upon Strength and Vigilance, slaughtering all who oppose it and crushing those who dissent, resolute and watchful of all challengers.  Now give them the power of the Cocha.”

Eden’s jaw tightened.

“That is the horror the Trinity Principle prevents,” Avir continued, “and why, in my own estimation, Vira destroyed those of Ord Vormoun.  We need to love, to seek and admire our virtues, or we may become no better than the Humans, who endlessly murder one another.  As your Lady Grandmother once wrote: Love thinks long-term.”

Eden crossed his arms, frowning.  “To think any Cocha would take such barbarous action like some common Human is revolting.  It is utterly unconscionable.”

“There is another reason you should take care with regards to Ord Vormoun,” Avir added, with noticeable hesitation.  “Those who entered Ord Vormoun gave account that the very essence of the place is — ah, for lack of any better word —     ‘tainted’… as if the presence of those who rejected the Principle… changed it somehow.  I…” he shook his head, “I advise caution.”

Eden considered this.  He had read a little of Ord Vormoun, and was intrigued by its mystery.  The more he learned, however, the more he began to suspect going there was a bad idea.  Thinking of that great, buried ruin gave him an eerie feeling.  It felt strangely as if he were being watched.  Good they had the entire capital between themselves and that place.  Avir took his arm suddenly, jumbling his thoughts and freeing up his clouded face.

“Enough of this dreary topic, Eden.  Much of our business has now concluded for the day.  What say you to a good hot bath?”

Eden had never been able to dissuade Avir when it came to baths.  Avir always enjoyed a good long soak every day at dusk, after third meal.  Today, as on every Friiday, he would bathe before third meal so not to miss his favorite weekly program on the Interlink.  He could record it for later, but he preferred watching the program live.

Deep inside the manor, Eden eased into the steaming, white water of the bath, lamenting his lack of foresight.  There was still much daylight.  Their bath could have waited.  Avir had beaten him into the bath and now lazed happily up to his neck, with a hot, folded cloth atop his head.  Eden cupped some of the water.  He ran it through his jaw-length hair, inhaling the warm aroma of the bath salt blend that gave the water its nacreous hue.

Mother, he thought, ever the chemist.

For a time, soaking in the heat of the bath, they shared an amiable silence.  The bath was very quiet, despite the size of the room, with only the sounds of water on the edge of hearing.  The curved walls were fine green marble, the color of sunlight seen beneath a tropical ocean.  Steam swirled about the geometric mosaic adorning the ceiling.  Eden thought about resuming their earlier conversation — which Avir had interrupted, possibly on realizing the time — but decided Ord Vormoun an inappropriate topic for the atmosphere of a bath.  He had just thought of a new subject to strike up when someone knocked on the bath door.  It opened just a crack.

“Master Eden?”  The female voice belonged to Sophie, the Head automaton.  She coordinated the others in their daily tasks, at which she was highly proficient.

“What news, Sophie?” Eden asked.  It was unusual to be disturbed by an automaton during a bath.  This lead him to conclude the reason for the disturbance should be important.

“A post has arrived, Master.  It is marked with the Sigil of The Republic.”

Eden and Avir shared a glance.  “Then it is likely for Father.  Leave it in his study,” Eden said casually, and sank deeper into the water.  His father was still at a special session of the Senate — discussing the implications of some faraway war.  It was unlikely he would return home until tomorrow.  Strange that such a post would not go to Father directly, Eden thought.  Either it was not meant to, or this was one of the rare mistakes still floating around in the postal system.

“But, Master,” Sophie continued, “the seal is that of the Tzaja ViraCocha, and the post is addressed to you.”

Eden spun in a shock of Alacrity, creating a momentary whirlpool about himself that splashed a wide-eyed Avir.  “To me?  Enter!”

Sophie did.  She crossed the floor at a brisk pace in her black and white cleaning attire, her brown “hair” in a long braid.  At the edge of the bath she knelt obediently to offer the post to her young master, who now stood slim and straight-backed in the waist-deep white water. 

Eden dried his hands on a nearby towel before accepting the letter.  He examined the wax seal of royal blue, flushing with excitement, water dripping off his bare shoulders, his heart suddenly racing.  Like a child not half his age, he tore open the glossy envelope and pulled out its contents: a single sheet of paper.

When Eden did not move after reading the letter, Avir scooted closer, examining his friend’s frozen expression.  “Well?” he asked.  “What is written?” 

Sophie too appeared curious about her master’s behavior, for she remained kneeling and craned her neck to see the writing. 

Finally, Eden spoke, his voice hushed.  “Strday, Tenth hour.”  His wide eyes did not leave the letter.  “The…  The Imperator commands an audience… with… me.”