In the Fire Caves

Chapter 2: The Love of the Pah-wraiths

Summary for this chapter: Trapped in the Fire Caves, Winn begins to understand what Dukat has become.

The Fire Caves were not, after the first moments, uncomfortably hot. Nor were they dark. The fires of the Pah-wraiths were gentle, almost a comforting caress, soothing like warm water on a wrinkled face. To someone who had read their book, there was nothing surprising about this whatsoever.

Winn Adami, no longer Kai, paced along the cave's inside wall. Inside, the caves were an infinite space. She could walk forever. Still, they were closed to the outside, and that made them a prison.

An eternity of imprisonment. That was the punishment to which Winn had condemned herself by consenting to the destruction of the book of the Kosst Amojen. No, consent was too weak a word. She had caused its destruction, and with it the imprisonment of the Pah-wraiths. The worst part was, she could not understand why. There was nothing more precious to her than this book, not even her life. It was only through this book that she had ever looked upon the face of a deity and known herself chosen. 

She did not approach the Pah-wraiths. She was unworthy of them, unworthy of their trust, unworthy of what they had been willing to do.

In time, Dukat came to her. He had taken back his Bajoran appearance, and was just as handsome as Winn remembered from when he first came to her as the answer to a long-denied prayer. His face was lined with the same false evidence of physical labour, and his eyes held the same feigned humility. "Adami," he spoke her name softly.

Winn thought to correct him, but she was no longer Kai, no longer Eminence, no longer deserving of the honour of her title. "What do you want from me?" she asked. Surely there must be something, otherwise he would not bother to pretend to be kind

.

Dukat raised his hand towards her, and as she flinched away his fingertips brushed her cheek. "Adami," he said, deceitful submission in his voice. "I need your help." 

"You are not worthy of it," Winn said, stepping out of his reach.

"I know," Dukat said, "but I need it. Please help me, Adami. I need to know what I am."

Of course. Winn smiled at the thought of the power over Dukat that had suddenly been given her. Of course he would not know. He had never been able to read the book. The Pah-wraiths had never given him their secrets, and would not even now, not even in death. Unless she told him, he would not understand what he was becoming.

Winn knew that Dukat must be overwhelmed with memories, sensations, visions of events that have been and will be and never were. He would not understand them, because in nonlinear time there was no space for explanations. 

The book of the Kosst Amojen had made this all clear. The Pah-wraiths had once been Prophets, beings existing outside time and perceiving all eternity in an instant. If they had been Prophets, then they still were, and would be. Nonlinearity makes this necessary.

If the Pah-wraiths had succeeded in annihilating the Prophets, then they themselves would never have existed. Bajor would always have been a world without gods. There would be nothing to attract the Cardassians, and no wormhole to bring the Dominion. Bajor would be a world of peace, and would always have been. The occupation, and the Dominion war, would never have happened.

What gods could love their people so much as to end their eternal existence to bring them peace? Winn had wept when she read this, her tears of relief and gratitude sizzling on the burning page. The Prophets, who had abandoned Bajor and left her to suffer, were worthy of death. The Pagh-wraiths, who were willing to die to save Bajor, alone were worthy of worship.

And still, even shaken by the self-annihilating love of the Pah-wraiths, Winn had chosen in her last moments to give her life to imprison the Pah-wraiths and save the Prophets. It was the choice that she had made that had saved the Prophets. It was a betrayal of everything she believed, and she could not understand why she had done it.

Dukat was transforming, becoming nonlinear. In time he might become a Pah-wraith, but first he must become a Prophet. It would suit him. He would watch, unacting, while Bajorans suffered and gave their lives for his sake. When they died, unanswered, they would call to him lovingly with their dying breath.

"What am I, Adami?" Dukat asked.

You are the voice that does not answer, Winn thought. The ears that hear screams of agony and demand praise. You are the eyes blinded to the suffering you will never cease to bring, and I will never forgive you.

"You are the tyrant of Bajor," Winn said, and turned away.

Next chapter: The death of Kai Opaka's son.

Special thanks to selenak, cruisedirector, and iamsab, who will certainly recognize their influence on this and following chapters.