The Rahz Ascendancy

He chanted in unison with the other four while the ten descenders awaited their inevitable fate. Standing on the edge of the Spire Balcony, the naked bodies seemed more alive than the swirling shadows of the chanters.

Rah-orr ayum sun-ti-nai. Rah-orr ayum sun-ti-nai. RAH-ORR-AYUM SUN-TI-NAI.

At the peak of the phrase, the first body stepped from the balcony into nothingness. The man fell from view toward the chasm and the black hole of the Abyss. Not even a beating heart challenged the silence.

The chant began anew. It gradually filled the cavern, then stopped. On the final beat, a woman stepped from the tower to her death.

Eight more times he chanted with a practiced intensity. Eight more bodies descended into nameless history. But at least they will be free of this prison for their mind.

In the silence that followed, he regarded his veiny hand. At least I still have mine. It hadn’t yet disappeared into shadow as the other hands of the Rahz Circle had. To the naked eye, their hands and bodies were like billowing smoke hiding a flame. It must be the spice. As their mission called for more and more of it, their minds dwelt more and more in the unseen and their figures mingled increasingly with the darkness. And though I alone have hands left to see, still more death will be on them.

A note disturbed the silence, though he didn’t know if the others heard it too. It was a whisper echoing through the main cavern. Perhaps from the Abyss itself, it climbed the chasm cliffs to greet him at the Spire Balcony. He couldn’t help but think the whisper’s vibrations mirrored the lapping of the valley’s river water against smooth stone. His throat was dry from the chanting, but he swallowed anyway. Only the tolls could bring him back to the valley now. But even though that world was far away, he sensed it was still connected to these mysterious caverns. It is as if the rocks themselves record our deadly proceedings. But can anyone else hear their plea?