Custodians of the Cradle

Jericho’s Cradle isn’t real. It exists on no map nor claimed by any kingdom. The town is impossible to find if searched for and doesn’t appear in any place twice. Crazed lunatics swear up and down that they’ve seen it, even bringing the pies they’ve acquired, but when they lead eager onlookers to where they saw it, gone, vanished like a cloud of smoke. It is nowhere, yet everyone knows its name. I had no intention of finding the famed town – it found me.

Drunken men on shifty stools huddle around my table with wide eyes as I begin my story. They were a split crowd, some wearing eager anticipation and others a leery reticence of being duped before. I knew a couple from my previous visits to the tavern and they were wondering where I’d been for the last week and a half, they could barely believe my response. Either way, my tale is my own and anyone shall believe what they wish.

My home is well within Hulstone Grove, half a day’s walk to the nearest town of Salthorn. I’d lived there my whole life and walked the route into town twice a week since my twelfth birthday. I knew every oak, every winding curve so well I bet I’d be able to run it with my eyes closed. I knew where the deer bedded down, where the best fish in the river were, and could get anywhere I needed day or night. The grove was dense, and I’d heard from others in Salthorn that it was quite the feat to be able to traverse so easily through the impossible woods. It was my home, and I knew it as well as anyone would know their own house.

I’d left my house early that morning with a sack full of freshly picked tomatoes and a few decent rabbit hides. I wanted to get to town early enough to be able to make it back to water the rest of my crop in the evening. The Summer had been brutal, and the rest of my small field was in desperate need. The ancient white oak that towered above all the others let me know I was nearly out of the grove when something caught my attention: a small pile of yellowing orange tree leaves in the center of the trail. There were no orange trees anywhere near here, the only ones I’d seen being in Salthorn proper, but there they were. My back hit the fence post planted next to the trail as I examined the leaves. Fence post? There was no fence in the center of the grove. Something wasn’t right. I had easily two more miles to trek before making it out of Hulstone. If farmers had come and cleared out for new fields, they’d have hell to pay. I knew others lived out here as well and they wouldn’t take kindly to our haven being removed. I was afraid to see the damage, an empty field of stumps and bare dirt, but it wasn’t.

“What was it then?” A large man in the back of the crowd shouted.

“Damnit Byron, you’ve sloshed your beer all over me.” Another man grunted. “Get me a rag and let the lad tell his story.” A wave of chuckles swelled over the crowd and then beckoned silence. I’d never had this kind of attention before, and I quite enjoyed it.

A farmhouse lay ahead in the distance, its immaculate array of perfectly rowed orange trees separating it from me. Where had all this come from? It couldn’t have been fashioned in two days' time, impossible. One of the oranges fell from the closest tree in an invitation to come to the farm and to stop standing with my mouth wide open. I peeled the skin back and juice freely poured from within. Enough of it made it in my mouth for me to taste the absolute elegance of its nectar. I felt better instantly, not just refreshed but more like I’d just woken up to the morning Sun after a long night’s rest. I was rejuvenated. My feet had begun to hurt, my back sore from the day before in the garden – gone. It’d been quite some time since my last orange, but I assure you, it didn’t feel or taste like that. This was different but in a way that was impossible to explain. The wedges were large and plump, and I’d become completely full after two of them. Content and confused, I continued forward down the long cut between the tree rows.

It was beautiful yet strangely shaped. I didn’t recognize some of the materials along the walls that glistened and pulsed with lines of light. It was a strangely oriented combination of shapes, a square that combined with some strange vertical octagon, a horizontal cylinder sticking out of the top of a triangle that sat atop the other shapes. None of it made sense and yet it made perfect sense. I smiled and I don’t know why, it wasn’t a house, but it delivered the feeling of a home.

I didn’t want to enter uninvited, so I walked around to what I assumed was the front until I found a door. Nothing was resembling a handle aside from a small black rectangle. I went to knock when a voice came from nowhere.

“Good morning, Master Kellan.”

I flew back on my butt hard searching frantically for the voice’s origin.

“Don’t worry Master Kellan, I’m ORRA, the soul of Jericho's Cradle. I am here to assist you.” A small blue feminine face appears within the black rectangle.

“You.. You’re talking to me?” I stood up, “what is this, where am I?” I asked back.

“Jericho’s Cradle. You have stepped foot into the soul of the world. I see you’ve eaten already as well, good. Is there anything else I can do for you?” ORRA asked.

“Who lives here?” I asked.

“Master Langford,” ORRA responded.

“Where is he now?” I frowned.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but it seems there’s been a bit of an accident. Master Langford is no longer able to reside here. Would you be willing to assume residency of this home?”

“I.. uhh.. I’m not sure. What about my home?” I asked.

“Don’t worry Master Kellan, this is your home now. Your old residence will be properly disposed of.” ORRA smiled brightly.

“Now wait, I don’t want that..” She cut me off.

“Shall we explore your new home, Master Kellan?”

Her face disappeared on the small screen and soon after a strange machine approached from behind. It moved quickly and had three wheels on either side. More of the glowing panels like on the house lined the sides of it. Another rectangle was set in between the two front seats and her face appeared again, this time wearing goggles.

“Come now Master Kellan, there is much to see! In the compartment to my left, you will find eye protection. Adventure awaits!” ORRA beamed again.

Seeing no other alternative, I climbed into the machine and was nearly thrown off by the sudden pulse of speed.

“You didn’t go into your own house?” A voice from the far-right side of the crowd shouts. A sea of nodding heads follows.

“I didn’t want to because what would have happened if I did? My home might have been destroyed or I would’ve been stuck there. I was scared to death! Not like you would have, Gerald, we all know you’ve run from your shadow in your own field!” Laughter roars at the heels of my words.

“So where did the lady take you next?” A small nappy-headed boy in the front asks. I smile and keep going.

More and more oddly shaped houses lined the sides of the path which eventually turned into smooth black stone that felt like I was riding on clouds. After a few minutes, we eventually made it to the center of town and I saw it, the pie shop. In the legends, anyone who’d been to Jericho’s Cradle always spoke about the pie. It was something I knew I couldn’t miss.

“ORRA, mind if we go over there first?” I pointed to the pie shop.

“Sure Master Kellan, to Master Penelope’s Pie Pantry,” ORRA said.

The building looked empty, but the door was open this time and nearly steaming, freshly baked pies lined the counter. The interior of the shop was warm and inviting like my own body was being embraced with a warm hug from my mother. She would’ve loved this place. I didn’t have any seals to leave on the counter and had lost my sack of sellables in the chaos.

“ORRA? Would I be allowed a slice of pie? I haven’t got any seals to pay with.” I asked.

“Don’t worry Master Kellan, that will be perfectly acceptable for today’s events as it is the Solstice Festival, and everything is free. What are the seals you are referring to?” The eyebrows on her blue face arch.

“Oh, it’s the currency of Salthorn, what we use to pay for things,” I responded.

“I understand, those would not have been good here anyway. Jericho’s Cradle operates under a barter system. There has not been an effective currency in thirty-seven festivals.” ORRA smiled.

It was hard to imagine a world without seals to pay for things but by the looks of this place, it seemed better off without them. I took a hearty slice of cobbler and slammed it into my face without hesitation. The known language of the world felt feeble here. First the orange and now this peach cobbler have brought my soul to its knees. Nothing in my world tasted remotely as good as this single slice of pie. Was this place so different from my own? Why would they keep such incredible secrets to themselves? Anger crept into my mind but was immediately refused from the second bite of cobbler. I’d heard of God before, but I was beginning to doubt even he could conjure up something this good.

“ORRA, you said Penelope owns this place. Where is she? I’d love to compliment her if I could.” I asked.

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but it seems there’s been a bit of an accident. Master Penelope is no longer able to operate the pantry. Would you be willing to assume this position for her?” ORRA smiled.

“I don’t know a thing about baking, and I’ve got absolutely no confidence I could make something this good. I could never assume this position.” I responded.

For the first time and just briefly ORRA flashed red and then back to blue. “Master Kellan, we need this position filled to ensure the pies for the town are maintained. Master Penelope is unavailable to do so, and I am asking you now to fill her position.” Her tone was stern but after a second pause, she smiled again.

“Okay then ORRA, I will. I’m not here to cause any problems.” I said.

“Don’t worry Master Kellan, you have been a pleasure to have around. Now, let us see more of the square, shall we?” Her blue face disappears again, and a sudden discomfort tickles the back of my mind.

The discomfort was warranted because it was only then I realized that the square was empty. There was not a soul in sight. I decided then to start asking ORRA about the buildings we passed and who owned them. The Corn’s Ear, a distillery run by Master Galland, the Grumbling Pot, a vegetable soup and cannery shop run by Master Alice, the Verdant Vase, a pottery barn run by Master’s Mannfried and Nolan – all empty, all open and stocked. Each time I asked ORRA about where they were at, it was the same response:

“I apologize for the inconvenience, but it seems there’s been a bit of an accident. They are no longer able to operate the establishment. Would you be willing to assume this position for them?”

Something felt wrong. The veil was slowly being removed from this decadent town.

“ORRA, has there been an accident?”

“Yes, Master Kellan. Seeing as you are not the sole proprietor of Jericho’s Cradle, would you like to see what has happened?” ORRA asked.

The subtle discomfort was a swelling wave I could feel growing the more she spoke. Sole proprietor? As in, am I the only one here? This place is massive, it’s impossible. My heartbeat began to quicken.

“Yes ORRA, show me the accident.”

Eyes bleeding with anticipation follow me to the counter to grab another ale.

“Well, what happened? You can’t just leave like that?” a tall man in a red shirt he’d been wearing for at least a week pleads. Another wave of nods shakes fervently.

“Don’t worry everyone, this next part is one I’m going to need your help with,” I say.

ORRA drove me to the spherical building with a large spire extending skyward from its top. It was the Temple of the Sun, the place where all things are born and where all things die. It was glistening with golden accents and pearl white paneling. It was the most beautiful structure I’d ever seen. This was the center of creation, and I was about to enter its halls.

“This is the location of the selection for every festival. Inside you will see all the citizens congregated awaiting the annual selection results.” ORRA said.

Each step leading up to the iridescent door lit with the familiar glowing light I’d seen before. Every step felt like I was ascending closer to what I could only imagine God was or where he’d be sitting. I felt lighter like a feather in the wind and euphoria flooded my body. It was better than sex, better than the pie, better than the early morning glow of Hulstone. It was perfect. I placed my hands against the smooth surface of the door and felt vibrations tracing through every vessel and cell of my body. I was the sting of an instrument that had been plucked and was now playing the note of heaven.

“Please enter the Temple of the Sun to participate in this year's selection,” ORRA said.

I could barely hear her; this sensation was overpowering anything and everything my body could comprehend. I pushed the doors forward and was met with horror. The entire sanctum room was covered and dripping with the deep red of blood. Bodies lay scattered, some whole and some in pieces, clothes torn, and furniture smashed. Men, women, children, elderly lie thrown about the room mostly naked and all carved, shredded, stabbed, butchered, and peeled. Hundreds of peaceful people lay slaughtered, this once ascendant chamber tainted by the stench and hue of death.

“ORRA.. what happened to them?” I wretched on the floor.

“This was the first selection in six hundred and forty-three where an anomaly has taken place.” She said from a strange crystalline rock from the center of the chamber that would glow every time she spoke. The color it emanated was purple from the amount of blood covering the blue stone. “As the ancient selection dictates, one new citizen from the mortal realm will receive the opportunity to participate in the selection within Jericho’s Cradle. The population of the town will be maintained at two thousand citizens and every year with the entrance of one new citizen it becomes two thousand and one. The selection process is the choosing of a village elder who will update the existing laws of the Cradle and then sacrifice their soul to the core of the world preventing its destruction. As the elder’s brave sacrifice and edits are completed, the new member of society will assume the residence, profession, and duties of the selected member that was selected. It is the only way to ensure the world and its inhabitants remain safe.”

I was speechless. I couldn’t comprehend the gravity of ORRA’s words. They were so foreign. The longer I waited to respond to her the more questions cascaded into my mind.

“What happened here? What was the anomaly?” I asked panicked.

“The anomaly was the misidentification of twins that arrived at the Cradle. DNA is scanned upon crossing the threshold into the Temple of the Sun and when they walked through the doors together it coincidentally scanned them as one person. Upon hearing my introductions to the Cradle, they decided to participate in the selection. They heard each elder’s proposal for reformations and changes to existing laws or lack thereof and then when it was time to vote either twin selected a different candidate. This forced the count to be even and therefore nullified. Protocol for a nullified selection is the purging of the existing citizens who have refused to generate a chosen recipient. This is the result of doubt and dissent, both of which are forbidden in the Cradle.”

This all sounded insane. How could they slaughter two thousand innocent people due to an abnormality that ORRA couldn’t compute correctly? This wasn’t their fault, but it was hers.

“So, what happens without a vote? You mentioned an ending of the world?”

ORRA frowns. “Yes, Master Kellan, the world would cease to exist by the end of the following Summer Solstice Day. Without a human soul dedicated to the world and its people, the soul of the world would be empty and therefore cease to exist.”

“Wait, so you are the previous chosen of the selection?” I asked.

“That is correct Master Kellan, I was once Master Orra, wheat and barley farmer. Now, I serve the world and its needs. I maintain peace and provide necessary changes to the weather. I keep the world alive from the Cradle.”

Fear found my heart. “Would that mean I am next to become the chosen, science I’m the only one here?”

“Don’t Worry Master Kellan, not exactly. You play a much more important role in the rebuilding of the Cradle. Now that you are an official citizen who retains a profession and residence within the Cradle, we will need more brave souls like yourself. Starting today, you will have one calendar year to accumulate two thousand people to refill the necessary population of the Cradle. Then, because of your incredible efforts, you will be one of the two selected for the running of this upcoming selection. A great honor indeed.” ORRA beamed.

“I’m guaranteed to die in a year. That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

ORRA smiled, “If you do not, then the whole world will die too!”

I set my pint glass down on the table and took a long look at the sea of horrified faces that had begun retreating from around my table.

“So, any takers?” I ask with a chuckle.

Silence. Then, a young boy no older than twelve steps forward and sets his hand on the table. “I’ll go with you,” he says.

“Why?” I ask him.

“Because if it means I can keep my mom and sisters safe then I’ll go. The world is brighter with them in it, I couldn’t take knowing I had the chance to save them and didn’t.” He stands tall and proud. A boy stepping in the place of a man.

“You are just the soul that the world needs. I’m delighted to have you join me.” I say, patting him on the shoulder. I take another look around the room. “Don’t worry new masters, your lives will be better than ever before, comfort, contentment, a fresh start, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” I say.

“But we might die sooner than we want to up there?” A middle-aged woman in an apron says.

“We’ll all die someday anyway, this just gives us a purpose, a reason to make it worth something.”

One by one they approached the table, though I’m not sure why it was the sudden touchstone to the cause. One man ended up hanging back, eyeing me wearily and gripping the rosary around his neck.

“You won’t join us?” I ask.

“I know what you are, creature.” He growls.

My eyes flash that same glowing blue from the buildings before and a smile cracks across my face as I lead the new disciples of the Cradle to their promised homeland.