by Rai Aren
Sensing his sorrow and seeing the suffering etched on his face, Anjia stepped forward and placed her small hand over the Head Priest’s heart. “Amsara lives here, and here,” she said as she touched her own heart, “in all of our hearts, always. He is at peace now.”
Odai bowed his head.
“Odai,” she said, “you know as our spiritual leader that nothing in life is ever truly lost… only changed in form and substance. All those we have lost are still with us, their energy, their essence, is eternal.” She closed her eyes, thinking of her father, her mother, of Uta and Ehrim, and Assan. She knew they would always be a part of her. A soft smile crossed her lips, as she felt the warmth of her ankh pendant spread throughout her body. The heaviness she felt inside lifted ever so slightly. “One day we will all be together again.” She let the words comfort her as well. It was going to be all right. For all of them. She would help to heal her people’s sorrows. It would just take time and patience and caring for one another. Together they would move forward.
In spite of his overwhelming sadness over all of the loved ones they had lost recently, Odai felt the warmth and comfort of her words and her touch. “You are wise, your Majesty. You will be a great Queen.” Then through her touch, the effect magnified by her pendant as though acting as a conduit, he had a vision of Amsara.
His faithful friend’s eyes were clear, he looked happier and healthier than he ever had, his mane thickened, and shone with vitality. The creature bowed his great head, then looked back up.
Odai smiled at him. ‘Until we meet again, my friend.’
Amsara turned and walked away, looking back once. ‘I will wait for you, Odai.’
Tears flowed down Odai’s cheeks. He looked back up at Anjia. “Thank-you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
She smiled warmly, withdrew her hand and nodded, holding his gaze, seeing his understanding.
After waiting for a moment out of respect, Tramen spoke up, “Odai, before we depart, we need speak with you about the Pharom. I realize we do not have much time, but this is vitally important.”
He nodded. “Of course, your Highness.”
Tramen looked at Anjia.
“I know that the Pharom remains beneath the Amsara monument,” Anjia said. “I think it was wise to do what you did.”
Tramen listened closely. He knew this was the last detail to be addressed before they left and how significant it was.
“My father trusted you,” she said, “and so do Tramen and I.” She placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder.
Tramen touched her hand, then looked at Odai. “Yes, we do.”
“The Pharom has remained untouched,” Anjia continued, “and undetected for years now. You did well.”
“Thank-you, ” he replied. “It remains disconnected from the platform and was hidden separately and securely away from it. We ensured it was well camouflaged.”
Anjia nodded. “Very good.”
“However,” Odai continued, “I must admit I do not know if its power has been neutralized entirely.”
Anjia looked off into the distance, towards the once majestic, now headless monument. She could feel its power, though faint, its vibrations were unmistakably there. It resonated with her pendant. “No, I do not think we can undo what has been done. What we began, we cannot go back from now. Its power remains, though I do not think it will be easily detectable unless one knows exactly what to look for.”
“If I may ask, now that we are leaving, what should be done with it?” Senarra asked.
Anjia took a deep breath, she knew what her instincts were telling her, but it was not going to be an easy decision.
Odai looked at her, sensing something. “You intend to abandon it.”
She nodded. “Yes.” Her answer was firm.
“Is that not dangerous?” Senarra asked. “There will be no one here to guard it.”
“It is not possible to do anything else,” Tramen countered. “We must leave here immediately. We cannot transport something so powerful…so dangerous…safely, with the limited resources we have. How could we even explain what we were doing, when we are worried about survival?”
“But, if it fell in to the wrong hands again…”
“It is safest where it is,” Anjia assured them. “My brother is right. Even if we could stay longer, which we cannot, we cannot hide any of our activities any longer. The people have not been told of it for their own safety and to refrain from making promises that may never be fulfilled. I cannot think of a better, safer, or more secure place for it at this time, especially under these circumstances.”
Senarra understood what they were saying, but it was still difficult. “But so much work had gone into creating it,” she said. “To think of leaving it behind…”
Anjia shook her head. “The Pharom and the chamber are made to work together. They are inseparable if the Pharom is to function. It would not be possible to ever have it functional again without that chamber, even if we did not have to leave at once.”
“We do not have the resources to create another such chamber,” Tramen said. “Without a miracle, we never will.”
Anjia nodded and motioned them all to sit down on the Palace steps.
Odai was impressed with the young Queen. She seemed to have blossomed in maturity far beyond her years, he thought as he took a seat along with the others.
“Senarra,” Anjia said, “in spite of all of that, which you know is true, I need you to have faith. I cannot fully explain it, but I believe that the Pharom will not be found unless it is meant to.”
“What does that mean?” Senarra asked, perplexed. “We should protect it.”
“Senarra, please…” Odai began to say.
“It is all right, Odai,” Anjia replied. “Her thoughts and questions are valid. I do not know if I can adequately explain this, but I have a strong feeling that the Pharom has its own destiny, apart from us.”
“Even though our people created it?” Senarra challenged.
Anjia did not feel bothered by the question, rather energized by it. It was all crystallizing in her mind as she spoke. “I know it seems strange, but the Pharom is much like any of us. We are the products of our parents, but somehow, through our continued existence and experience, we become more than the sum of those parts. Something within us, that is uniquely us, emerges. It is there from the start; it comes through at the moment of creation. We have seen this time and again in infants, children, in every species of animals and birds. They have their own personality, their own drives. That is simply part of their being.”
“But we are not talking about an organic being,” Senarra replied, “this technology is…”
“Energy based,” Anjia finished her sentence. “As are we.”
Senarra paused, reflecting on what was said. Something rang true for her. She sat back.
Tramen understood. “We are all made up of energy, our thought energy, our physical energy.”
“Exactly,” Anjia replied. “It is the true essence of all things and can never be extinguished. That energy reaches out to those it is meant to connect with.”
They all sat quietly for a moment, both inspired and comforted by her words.
“The Pharom should be safe,” Odai assured them, “for a very long time.”
“Then here it shall remain,” Anjia stated.
Tramen spoke, “Our father entrusted the priests to protect the Pharom’s secrets and that will not change even though we must all leave this land to get a new start.” He thought for a moment. “We will settle again somewhere, and once we have had enough time to heal and rebuild, when the time is right, some of us will return. Then you will once again watch over it. The priesthood’s responsibility does not end here. You will remain the guardians of the Pharom for as long as it exists.”
&nbs
p; Anjia looked off into the distance. “Perhaps one day, others will even be drawn to it…its energy still hums. Those, whose energy levels vibrate in a harmonious way to it, may seek it, sensing it. Or, it may sense them, and draw them to itself. At that time, we must trust that it will be found when it is meant to be found, by those who are meant to find it. Perhaps we can even resume my father’s work with it. I hope so.”
She looked at each of them. “Our own roles in all of this are not yet determined…” She turned suddenly.
Peeking from around a corner, Setar was watching, listening.
Chapter 61
A Secret Told
Setar ran.
Anjia got up and followed after him. “Setar! Please stop!” she yelled. “Let me talk to you.”
“No!” The young boy kept running across what was left of the Palace gardens.
“Setar, please let me explain,” she called out after him. “Let me answer your questions, alleviate your fears.”
He stopped in his tracks. His back remained turned. “You all keep secrets. So many secrets.” His shoulders shook. He clenched and unclenched his fists.
Anjia saw his reaction. She felt his anger, his confusion. She was deeply concerned. She walked over to him.
He turned to look over his shoulder, still not making eye contact with her.
Anjia knelt down in front of him. She tried to take his hand in hers, but he pulled it away. “Some secrets are necessary, Setar,” she said. “To protect people, to keep them safe.”
“What is the Pharom?” he asked, now gazing directly at her. “What is this secret you keep? I want to know.”
She nodded. “Then perhaps it is time you were informed. Let us sit together.” She led him to a soft grassy spot, one that had not been singed.
He sat down a little ways from her. A soft breeze blew his hair away from his face. The air still smelled of smoke, and the sky remained a cruel gray, hiding the sun from them.
Confident that the situation was under control, Tramen and the others let them be to talk alone.
She respected Setar’s wish for some distance. “I will tell you everything,” she said. She took a deep breath. “But know this, it will not be easy to hear.”
He looked at her, his expression curious.
Anjia regarded him for a moment. He had his father’s eyes, and a measure of his intensity. She felt apprehensive. This was going to be hard for him to accept and after all of the other trauma he had recently experienced, she worried how it would affect him. He was still so young, not yet ten years old.
Setar waited. His grey eyes watched her warily.
“Before I tell you this, know that we would have told you the truth when you were older. We felt you were still too young, and so much has already happened.” She saw his expression. He looked anxious and uneasy.
“What truth?” he asked as he nervously ripped up a handful of grass.
“Our father, King Traeus, commissioned the Pharom’s creation. He wanted to give our people something wondrous, something life-changing.” She paused. It was difficult to know how best to say this.
Setar shifted where he sat. His breathing shallowed with anticipation. He ripped up another handful of grass.
“Setar,” she said, “we…” She again paused. What she would say next would change his life forever.
“What is it?” he asked, leaning forward.
“The Kierani, our people, we do not come from this land.”
“We traveled here?”
She nodded. “Yes, from very far away.”
“How far?” he asked, his eyes growing wide.
She looked at him for a moment. She pursed her lips. She pointed her finger. Upwards. Towards the sky.
He looked up at the sky. He watched the overhanging haze changing shape and form. “I do not understand.”
“We came from the stars.”
He frowned. Her answer made no sense to him. “What do you mean?”
“This place, this planet, was not our original home.”
He inhaled sharply. “This planet…what are you saying?”
“Our people crashed here,” she admitted. It was best to get it all out now. “We are from a planet very far from here, another star system entirely. They were exploring this system, traveling and reaching out beyond our home. The effects of a large solar flare disrupted their ship’s systems. There was little warning, and not enough time to react. We were incredibly fortunate that anyone survived. Most did not. Our people have been here ever since.”
Setar got up. His skin crawled, his head spun. He walked over to a nearby tree. He put his hand on it to steady himself. “We are…aliens?”
“To this world, yes,” Anjia replied, also standing up. She walked closer to him. “But to one another, no. We are Kierani. Our home is called Kieran.”
“So, we are lost,” he said. “Alone. In a place where we do not belong.”
“That is why the Pharom was created,” she said.
He turned to look at her. His slate grey eyes were filled with tears of shock and frustration and crushing disappointment.
Her heart went out to him. She needed to explain more. “The Pharom is a beacon,” she continued, “to reach out to our home. To let our people know where we are. So that one day, perhaps, they may find us, and we can be reunited. It is hope for us.”
He looked away. He leaned his back against the tree. He hung his head. “No one has ever spoken of this,” he said feeling deeply hurt, angry, and frightened beyond words. Not just of what she had told him, but also of how so much had been kept from him all of his life. He felt his already fragile trust in his family, his people, shatter. “Not once,” he said, his voice now sounding hollow. Within him, a deep chasm of mistrust in Anjia, and in everyone around him, grew, shaking him to his very core.
“Setar, our people do not know about the Pharom. Our father did not want to get their hopes up. The chances of a signal ever reaching our people, or of us being found is… astronomically small. He used what was left of our ship’s technology to create it. We have no other resources to create another. We had to accept that this was our home now, and keep our people’s focus on that. We had to build a proper life here.”
Setar did not know what to say. His young mind raced with questions he scarcely knew how to articulate.
“This is a lot to take in all at once,” Anjia said. “I can understand how you must be feeling…”
“No, you cannot!” he snapped. “First this family lies to me about my true father. Now this. No one has ever said anything about any of this! Is everyone in on this secret?”
“Setar, please understand,” she pleaded, “we do not speak of it openly to protect the young. When Kierani reach a certain age of maturity, they are told. Not before. We want children to grow up feeling connected to this place, this land. For we may never leave here.”