Prophecy of Tears: CH1: Triad
Triad
On the world of Falcon's Crossing the wind blew ceaselessly, it was said, carrying the voices of the ancestors of the Diamond Sword. The monastery perched on a cliff a kilometer below a snow-capped peak. It was a simple structure protected by secrecy and a variety of sensor-baffling devices that made orbital detection a painstaking process at best. Only the leaders of the Diamond Sword and a few servants and token guards occupied the building.
The day was clear and the sky a brilliant blue. The mountains here were of a sufficiently high altitude that the atmosphere was thin and cold but still breathable. The Reflective sat meditating in a lotus position on a cushion in a large, airy room dominated by a huge window of hand-poured teraglass. He wore a thick green robe embroidered with white falcons. Thick silk wrappings covered his feet and legs. He wore archaic spectacles that contained no microelectronics or entek components whatsoever. Their sole purpose was to correct his failing vision. The thought occurred to him that what he truly needed was a way to sharpen his perception of cause-and-effect. He was not certain that the dragon of current events had not already escaped the grasp of the Triad.
Stones rise up into the sky; fire burns down in the water. So went the ancient Zen saying. Perhaps the Dragon had steered the Triad's hand instead. The Reflective mused on that riddle and found it disturbing but at the same time satisfying.
A bell sounded, a brazen chime that faded slowly into the walls. The Reflective waited for the others to arrive. It did not take long. The heavy doors on the far side of the room swung open in oiled silence. The Unyielding arrived first, a proud old man striding with a habitual martial posture that exaggerated his limp, wearing a red robe that bore a batik of leaping tigers, the wooden sword of his office held firmly in his right hand. He knelt on the pillow to the right of the Reflective, placing his sword across his lap.
He was closely followed by the Pure, who glided silently in her plain white robe across the polished hardwood floor. The diamond cluster of her office hung heavily around her neck on a cord of black silk. She sank into a lotus position on the pillow to the left of the Reflective. A panel of sunlight fell across her such that the diamonds caught the light and shone with their own white radiance. Her dark face resembled old wood with its deep creases and lines.
A fourth pillow remained empty. Together, the pillows formed the corners of a square in the middle of the room.
For a moment, no one moved. Then, as one, they bowed once and deeply. When they straightened, the Reflective reached into his robe and produced a simple mirror, the symbol of his office. He placed it gently on the floor before him and cleared his throat.
"We are in the Center," he intoned.
"We watch," said the Unyielding.
The Pure smiled. "Thought and action are one."
"I did not provide tea," the Reflective said. "Please accept my apologies."
They nodded graciously, and he thanked them for their forgiveness. He breathed deeply four times before stating his concern. "The Center will be difficult to hold. We risk much with our actions."
"All truth is risk," the Pure said with a frown.
The Unyielding clenched his sword tightly. "We cannot retreat from our decisions."
The Reflective tapped his mirror with a fingernail. "The beast enters the house while the brothers wrestle on the floor. Are we to do nothing?"
"We ride our horse along the edge of a sword already," the Unyielding grated. "If the Tribes of Man knew how we have steered them over the years-"
"They do not know," cut in the Pure with a ringing voice. She cast her gaze downward for a moment, then brought it up again. Her eyes were as hard as the jewels she carried. "We must have martyrs! The tribes will not unify otherwise. That is the truth."
The Reflective let the doubt seep into his words. "I have a daughter just her age. As I meditate, I find uncertainty."
"We have all had children. I have eight grandchildren and five great-grandchildren," the Pure answered. She shook her head. "No, we were bound to summon the Ghosts."
The Unyielding grunted assent. "The Phoenix Prime must not survive, and for reasons we have already discussed, our tribe cannot appear blameless. And more importantly, this young Speaker must die so that others might live. We all make sacrifices, my friend."
The Reflective said nothing. He thought of the prophecy that had been circulating the wilderzone of late, passed by minstrels and vagabonds and various independent tribals. Among other things it predicted the sword shall be drawn too late, and a thousand worlds shall be rent with fire…. He wondered again if the Triad had misplaced its grip on the dragon's tail.
"And what of our own tribe?" he asked flatly. "The Diamond Sword will not be spared when the Hordes come."
The Pure offered him a sweet smile. "They have the Court of Blades to guide them while we watch."
The Unyielding snorted. "I do not trust the Court. Much water, little rain."
"They know how to fight. When the tribes are unified, then the Sword will doubtless be drawn," the Pure added. "The Blood Eagle and the Starwolf are both mobilized to counter the invasion of the BioDerms. They will need leadership."
The Reflective nodded reluctantly. They had spent much time manipulating events in the wilderzone, and though not all had gone to their liking, much had occurred according to their will. The Starwolf and the Blood Eagle were ready to bear the brunt of an invasion. The Children of Phoenix would soon gain a strong and warlike leader. The independents prepared to form their own union at the Firetruce.
Still, dragons were unpredictable beasts. One could not anticipate everything. He resolved at that moment to take certain actions on his own, but such a break required extreme subtlety... and carried extreme risk. The empty pillow across from him assumed an aura of menace, as if the Ghost Facet perceived the direction of his thoughts.
"Very well. I shall wait and watch with you," he lied, adjusting his spectacles very carefully indeed.[1]
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