by Lyra Shanti
“Do not worry, my Ney, you will come of age soon enough,” said Meddhi-Lan with a comforting smile.
“Not soon enough for me!” said Ayn as he lay his head on his teacher’s lap.
“You must honor the traditions of The Dei,” said the high priest as he pet Ayn's long black hair, “they are holy and without flaw.”
Ayn looked up at Meddhi-Lan’s pointed, manly chin.
“Without flaw?” asked Ayn with a doubtful sneer. “But that is impossible, my Lan, for all of The Un is flawed.”
Meddhi-Lan smiled and said, “My blessed Bodanya, you once again did not step into the trap.”
Ayn proudly nodded, realizing that Meddhi-Lan had been testing him. Feeling a little better, Ayn yawned and soon fell asleep on the lap of his beloved teacher.
--
Shining like the great Siri God in the sky, Adin was armored in smoothest gold to reflect his strength and will. Even his princely crown was a jewel-encrusted laurel made entirely of gold.
He was well aware, to most in his kingdom, he seemed a God. Yet, Adin did not understand why. In his mind, he merely looked the part with waves of shoulder-length blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, and statuesque, masculine form. Even still, Adin felt he had never truly proven himself, and it was for that very reason he allowed his father to convince him to become a warrior in the first place.
As a child, Adin would have rather learned about science, metaphysics, and the stars, but his need to prove himself to his father was so strong that he had focused all of his energy to become the greatest swordsman Deius had ever seen. He was only eighteen years of age, and yet he led his father's Deiusian army into battle.
Sitting on top his black steed with his blue eyes blazing in the bright sun, Adin looked at his troops, then held up his hand to speak. “These Ohrians will pay for their arrogance! Let us show these lost science worshipers that they cannot invade our planet without penance! Let us fight with the strength of our ancestors at our side, and in their presence, we will triumph! For honor! For justice! For the glory of Deius!”
His troops of thousands erupted into thunderous cheers as they raised their swords high into the air.
This was the moment Adin was waiting for as he turned his horse around to face their sworn enemy, the Ohrians. With their nearly impenetrable silver-colored armor, crafted from the rare Linthil diamonds, their incredible speed, and advanced weaponry, an Ohrian soldier was a formidable foe. Adin's father had been in battles with them before, so he had told Adin what to expect. However, nothing could prepare Adin for the violence and bloodshed of war.
In the thick of fighting, and after witnessing several of his childhood friends and cousins instantaneously die as their limbs were torn from their bodies, or worse, their heads cut clean off with Ohrian lasers, Adin found himself unable to control his own anger.
In retaliation, he jumped off his horse and swung his sword without restraint. He felt the rage inside of his heart meld with the metal of his sword as he sliced through hundreds of Ohrians. By the time the battle was over, Adin could barely feel anything. His very heart had grown as cold as the lonely, frozen mountains in the northern hemisphere of his planet.
Seeing all the death before him, much of which he himself had dealt, Adin cried and dropped his sword to the bloodshed ground.
“Why, Gods?!” he screamed to the heavens as he fell to his knees. “Is this what you want us mortals to do to each other? Is this my path? Is this... it?!”
Suddenly, the earth shook and Adin felt the ground beneath him split open. He looked down and saw that there was nothing but lava and stars. It was the blood of Deius, and it was going to swallow him whole!
Adin began to laugh and cry all at once. He knew that the Gods were answering him, but he didn't want to know the truth. He wasn't ready.
“I'm not ready!” yelled Ayn in a panic. “Please, Gods, no! I'm not ready yet!”
Meddhi-Lan came to his side immediately and said, “Hush, my boy. It was only a dream.”
Looking around at Meddhi-Lan's room, which was decorated in colors of blue and tan, Ayn realized where he was and that he had, once again, fallen asleep in his Lan's room.
“I'm sorry, my Lan,” said Ayn as he groggily rubbed his eyes.
“Did you have a disturbing dream?” asked Meddhi-Lan as he poured Ayn a glass of cold water.
“Yes,” replied Ayn who hastily grabbed the glass, and then quickly drank its contents.
“What was it about?” asked Meddhi-Lan.
“Well...” said Ayn, “it was a battlefield. There were Ohrians with laser weapons, and they were in these shiny, silver suits of armor. I was there too. I was... well... I think I was The Great Adin.”
Ayn gave his Lan embarrassed eyes as he bit his bottom lip.
“I see,” replied Meddhi-Lan. “It makes sense that you would dream of having been him. It was your past life... perhaps your most important one. ”
“But,” said Ayn, confused, “how do you know for certain I was him?”
“Because I had a vision too once.”
“You did? About me?”
“Yes, Ayn,” said Meddhi-Lan with a smile, “it was on the day of your birth, actually. I did not dream of battle, but while meditating, I saw your face. Then I saw Adin's face... and it was one and the same. I was certain from that moment forward that you were The Bodanya and that you would bring balance to Deius, and to the entire galaxy.
Sighing, doubtfully, Ayn leaned on his beloved Lan's shoulder. “I don't see how I will be able to do that,” he said with a pout.
Meddhi-Lan smiled and stroked Ayn's hair. “You will do it by being you. I have the utmost faith in you, Ayn.”
“Thank you, my Lan, but... what if I can't? Will I end up falling into the blood of the stars?”
“What? Where did you get that idea?” asked Meddhi-Lan as he looked down at Ayn, picking up his chin.
“It's what I saw in my dream,” replied Ayn with a sigh. “You see, Adin doubted his path, and then the ground opened up and he saw, well, I guess I saw... the blood of the universe! I guess it was plasma. My Lan, what exactly is plasma?”
Meddhi-Lan sighed, not knowing how to explain such complicated notions to a boy of seven years. Despite Ayn's keen, inquisitive mind, he was still a child, and Meddhi-Lan didn't want to push Ayn too hard, too fast.
“Plasma, my dear boy,” said Meddhi-Lan as he got up and reached for one of the scrolls on his shelf, “is indeed the blood of the universe. It is the essence of life which runs through all of creation, and even through death. It is the unseen power within the fabric of time and space, and without it, we would all cease to exist.”
Ayn nodded as he looked at Meddhi-Lan's scroll. He then looked at the priests' illustrations of plasma and asked, “So, is it similar to a giant river, but it runs through time and space?”
“Somewhat, yes,” replied Meddhi-Lan, “though it is more accurate to say that plasma is even more powerful than a river, yet less visible to the eye.”
“Then... how do we know it's really there?” asked Ayn.
Meddhi-Lan smiled and said, “Because Adin meditated extensively and found plasma to be truth. He also became friends with a scientist named Sri Unda, and with her help, he was able to spread the truth throughout the galaxy. You see, through spiritual instinct and scientific process, Adin was able to bring enlightenment to our people. This, among other reasons, is why he was such a great man.”
Ayn's brow knotted in thought. “Why did I dream about him being a warrior who killed so many people if he was such an enlightened man?”
“Well,” replied Meddhi-Lan, “sometimes the Gods test us, and in doing so, they force many painful and difficult tasks upon us. They do this, you see, in order for us to learn so that we may become wise.”
“And The Great Adin became wise after he fought in war?” asked Ayn.
“Yes, he did,” said Meddhi-Lan with a gentle, loving smile. He then put back the scroll and said, “and so will y
ou, my Bodanya. First, however, you need proper sleep.”
Picking the boy up, Meddhi-Lan carried him back to Ayn's bedroom.
“No more bad dreams, little Bodanya. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my Lan,” Ayn sleepily replied, “but... can you stay with me?”
Meddhi-Lan smiled and said, “Alright... but just for a little while. I have much writing to do.”
“Will you write about my dreams?” asked Ayn with a playful grin.
“I very well might,” replied Meddhi-Lan.
Ayn then cuddled up in Meddhi-Lan's strong, safe arms, and found himself fast asleep, dreaming only of images that were happy and warm.
--
It was written that the second Adin would return with a mighty power to restore balance to The Un. Most of the religious commoners on Deius believed those words to mean he would destroy their planet’s enemies, as well as heal The Un of The Great Paradox.
All of Ayn’s abilities were further proof to the religious. It was a light emerging from the darkness, and they were filled with a renewed hope and pride.
However, to Ayn, his abilities were not a source of strength. He hated them. He wished he would wake up one day and not see or hear anything but his own wishes and thoughts.
His mental powers kept him awake at night, for fear he would once again dream of a stranger’s death or his mother’s tears. He could always sense it. He could always see when she was in pain, and his insight made him hurt deep inside his soul. He never once felt the hope he gave the people of Deius. He only felt two things when pondering his existence: confusion and shame.
Having been trained in the ways of The Dei, however, he could remember many things when meditating, and it would help his state of mind. He would often bring along Duna, his furry, four-legged animal friend, when meditating or wandering the halls of the temple or reading the ancient scrolls under the Saras “Enlightenment Tree” in The Holy Garden.
Sometimes Ayn would feel happy and forget his body altogether. He would run with Duna through the ona flowers, forgetting time and space, only to feel the oneness of The Un. Other times, he was filled with sorrow. He dared not let himself look down at his strange flesh. He would look away if being bathed or if he had to relieve himself. He would not allow himself to think of his physical form, and he lived through his childhood as if in a prolonged dream.
One night, he awoke from a nightmare about his mother; she was dying.
He entered Meddhi-Lan’s private chamber and touched his shoulder. Meddhi-Lan was fast asleep.
“Please, my Lan. Please wake up. My mother is ill,” begged Ayn quietly. Meddhi-Lan’s eyes opened, and he saw Ayn in his white sleeping robes. “She is dying,” added Ayn in tears. “Please help me see her before she leaves her body.”
Meddhi-Lan rose and quickly got dressed for the small journey to Queen Amya's palace. Traveling by The Dei's traditional, and somewhat primitive, transportation of horse drawn carriage, Ayn was extremely glad The Royal Palace wasn't too far from The Holy Temple. He figured they could have just walked there, but the priests would have never allowed it.
When they arrived at the palace, they were greeted by two of Queen Amya’s slaves. One was male, the other female, and they were both dressed in long, tan robes. Ayn did not understand the royal family’s use of slaves, since The Dei did not have many themselves. However, his mother was queen of the Shiva royal line, and though she was the leader of the movement to treat slaves with respect, she was not a proponent of true change. To her, slaves were as much a part of their culture as their ancient scrolls or paintings of the Gods. However, she always treated her slaves with extreme kindness. It made Ayn wonder why she didn't just set them free.
Ayn never truly understood his mother, though he loved her nonetheless. She was like the white ona flower: graceful and beautiful, yet mysterious and rare. Unfortunately, when he saw her lying in her bed of blue silken sheets, she did not look like an ona flower. She looked sickly and stained with sweat, and he felt afraid as she reached for his hand.
“Come here, my sweet son… my prince,” she pleaded softly.
Ayn slowly went to her side and sat down next to her. He held her cold hand as she brought his to her cheek. He could feel her sickness and how weak her body had become. He also sensed that she had been struggling with the illness for a long time. It seemed to him she was already accepting her death, even if he was not.
He imagined the old paintings from the scrolls of The Dei where the Gods had supreme power over life and death. He wanted to become like a true Bodanya of legend and reach into her body to find the source of the illness so that he could give her his light in place of her pain, but he knew he was not powerful enough, and his teachings told him that if it was her time to die, he must let her go.
“Mother,” Ayn said in a whisper, “I am here. Do not be afraid.”
He heard himself speak, but could not feel what he was saying. It was, once again, much like a dream.
Her face was still beautiful, even if it was wet with cold sweat, and she smiled at Ayn with an exhausted, but relieved expression.
“Good boy,” she said.
A few moments later, her body went limp. She was gone.
Ayn did not cry, for he told himself that his mother was with the Gods in The Un, but from that moment on, he put his feelings into a scroll-jar in his mind, refusing to feel them. It was his mother’s death that gave him the resolve to face his path. He knew he had no other choice but to become The Great Adin.
Chapter 4: Pei’s Expectation
Pei was ordained as a Lan, a teacher of The Holy Order of the Dei, and soon afterward, was given the arduous task of tutoring Ayn when the young Bodanya had reached his thirteenth year of age.
Despite the difficulty, Pei felt it was a great honor to teach alongside his former Lan with the guiding of The Bodanya Shiva. He hoped that he, like his teacher, would one day earn the title of High Priest, becoming well-known to the Dei as “The Great Pei-Lan.”
“Do you see the light of The Un?” asked Pei.
He and Ayn sat under the pale lavender of the Saras tree, surrounded by the brightly lit stars of the night sky. There was nothing to be heard in the solace of the garden except for the humming of the plasma-candles that were placed in a circle around where they sat.
“Yes,” whispered Ayn.
“Do you hear the singular chord of The Un?” Pei questioned as he probed further into his student’s mind.
“I hear the oneness, yes,” replied Ayn.
“Good,” said Pei. “Now, do you feel the vibration of that oneness?”
Ayn opened his mind’s eye and saw the darkness of space and time. He saw the swirling colors of plasma-light and the shimmering energies of the souls who had come to rest. The beauty and the immensity of the sight filled Ayn’s spirit with peace. He thought about how wonderful it was that The Un was so open to him.
Ayn had always been able to see the spirits within the living dark of The Un, but the vibration Pei referred to was another matter. He knew the energy his young teacher was asking him to sense was more than a mere feeling or movement. The Great Vibration of The Un was known to The Dei as “The Elusive Voice of the Unity of the Gods.” For Ayn, the vibration was the most difficult to sense.
It was not difficult because he feared it, but because it was hidden within the clattering sounds of The Un’s chaos. Sensing The Great Vibration was not easy for even the most skilled priests. Ayn knew that Pei could only feel moments of the elusive sound, then it would disappear into The Un’s collective void once again. Ayn was not sure if even Meddhi-Lan could probe deeper into the feeling of The Un, but he was certain Pei was not as mature as his elder Lan, and he found it amusing that Pei was his meditation guide.
There was also another difficulty in sensing the vibration. It was known to the Holy Order that the prophecy would only be fulfilled when the reincarnation of Adin linked himself with the oneness of The Un. This was interpreted by most of
the priests to mean that he would fully understand the power of The Un, thereby destroying the chaos that was infecting the galaxy. To them, it was Ayn’s destiny to reach past their own abilities, finally ending the threat of The Paradox.
As of yet, however, Ayn felt he had no such power. He indeed could sense the vibration in The Un, as well as hear the collective song, but no more than the young teacher who sat in front of him. He felt the enormous expectation on his shoulders, and to Ayn, the pressure was like a thick fog blinding his inner eye.
“What do you sense?” Pei again asked him.
Ayn pushed his mind to see through the fluid of light. He looked past the colors, past the textures - deeper into the void.
“I sense… the energy,” he replied.
“Do you see and feel the plasma within The Un?”
“I see it, yes, and I think I can feel it, but...”
“You must seek to understand it, Ayn”
Despite his somewhat vague words, Ayn knew what Pei truly meant. It was supposedly The Bodanya’s destiny to see past the riddles of space and to stop the inevitable doom that lurked over his people, but how? Ayn wondered how his two teachers would react if they knew he had not the answers they hoped for.
“I only see the particles of light,” said Ayn, “but I cannot understand its meaning, my Lan.”
Pei reached for Ayn’s shoulder and gently held it. “Do not simply see, my Bodanya,” he whispered to his student, “you must feel the light and seek to know it.”
Ayn felt lost within a cloud of expectation, trying his best not to become annoyed at Pei.
Meddhi-Lan found his two students sitting under The Enlightenment Tree. He smiled and sat down nearby, waiting silently for their lesson to reach its goal. How beautiful, he thought as he joined them in the oneness of The Un. Meditating on his love for his students and the life force surrounding them, he soon felt Ayn’s presence slowly approaching from behind.
“Do you think you can surprise me, Bodanya Shiva?” Meddhi-Lan asked with his eyes still closed in meditation. Ayn burst into an uncontrollable laugh, then wrapped his arms firmly around his elder teacher.