Shiva XIV

by Lyra Shanti

  “He reached The Un and found the light,

  Within the dark of a star-filled night,

  Into the hidden layer of death and pain,

  The Great Adin found life again!”

  The priests sang and chanted, and Ayn closed his eyes. He did not feel or think - he merely stood still.

  Meddhi-Lan closed the song with a single clap of his hand. He then helped Ayn to sit in a very large, golden chair which was draped with purple silks and white ona flowers. Ayn was feeling as if he had drunk a thousand cups of wine and dared not open his eyes, for fear of becoming too conscious of what was being said and done.

  Meddhi-Lan went to the altar and lifted a golden chest that was carved with the ancient symbols of The Holy Order. Also carved on the chest was a likeness of Ayn’s mother, Amya, the late Queen of Deius. She held her child aloft to the heavens while a crown of the sun hovered above his head. Meddhi-Lan brought the chest to Ayn’s feet, then turned to speak to the chamber of quietly awed spectators.

  “This is the day of rebirth for our people and for all The Un’s children,” he said with a clear, proud voice. “Today,” he continued, “we will bear witness to the fulfillment of the promise given to us by The Great Adin as we also honor the rites of the royal line of our planet.” He then opened the chest and loudly said, “Let all who are present on this glorious day bear witness to the crowning of The Neya Bodanya, Shiva the Fourteenth!”

  The priests chanted “Un” as the guests, filled with awe, caught sight of the beautifully crafted, golden crown. Accented with sapphire and amaranth, it shone like a star in the temple. Meddhi-Lan lifted the jeweled treasure and turned to face Ayn. He then raised the crown high in the air and proudly spoke the ancient Deiusian words, written years ago in their holy scroll’s prophecy. “Bodanya, dri Un, lin Ara sine Jah!” said Meddhi-Lan. After those ancient words, the priests all quietly repeated their high priest, confirming the words as sacred truth.

  Meddhi-Lan slowly circled behind the throne and lifted the sparkling crown above Ayn’s head. The priests continued to chant as the guests listened to their voices mingling with the sound of drums pounding and crashing, which was the traditional music played by The Holy Dei in ceremonies of great importance.

  The resonating sound of deep drums and crashing metal objects continued to grow louder and louder until all who were present became enchanted and somewhat intoxicated by the sound of existence itself. Such primal, yet spiritually inspired music was the closest The Dei could come to the true sound of The Un.

  Suddenly, there was a sound unlike any other in the room. It penetrated unexpectedly into the ears and hearts of everyone in the chamber. Even Ayn, who was deep under a meditative state, heard the explosive crashes and felt as if lightning had struck right beside him. It was a sound he’d never heard before, and never wanted to hear again.

  Despite already being in shock, Ayn was even more surprised by the following sound of a woman’s scream. Ayn opened his eyes and saw that the princess of Kri was shrieking, high pitched and filled with terror. He then turned to see what she was looking at, and the horror before him instantly broke his focus, as well as his heart.

  Ayn saw his beloved teacher prostrate on the floor, his chest completely drenched in red liquid. Barely able to process the horror before him, Ayn heard more screaming, which brought him fully back into consciousness.

  “No… please, Gods,” Ayn whispered rigidly, as if frozen in time. The Gods did not reply, however, and all Ayn could do was accept what had happened, though it was almost too much for him to take. It was like his dream, but even worse!

  In a matter of seconds, Amun-Lan flew to Meddhi-Lan’s side, then ripped a piece from his own holy robes, wrapping it tightly around Meddhi-Lan’s bleeding chest. He looked up and saw a dark-hooded man standing in the aisle while holding a plasma-gun. The man was about to re-load when Amun-Lan yelled, “Guards! Arrest him!” This was yet another sound Ayn had never heard.

  Before the hooded man could reload his gun, The Royal Guard came bursting through the main doors to the chamber. They were too slow, however, and the hooded man ran toward the giant doors, knocking them down with the blunt end of his imposing plasma-gun. He had been stopped by the auto-locking doors, however, and he whirled around, aiming his gun at Ayn.

  Pei was torn with emotion, but he acted on impulse, quickly seizing Ayn by the waist. He thought, I would rather die than allow Ayn, my beloved brother, to be harmed in any way! Protectively, he stood in front of Ayn, acting as a living shield.

  By this point, everyone had scrambled or ducked under the benches. Only the guards remained standing, along with Ayn, and Pei in front of him. The hooded man stood by the door with his gun re-loaded, now aiming it at the guards who were running toward him.

  “Drop your weapon!” shouted Amun-Lan, who was now holding Meddhi-Lan in his lap.

  The hooded man maniacally laughed, which confused the priests greatly. “It is too late!” he shouted with a wild grin. “We will ALL be dead soon, and I will go to The Un, rewarded for my sacrifice!”

  “Put down your weapon!” Amun-Lan repeated, unflinching. The hooded man, realizing he was out-manned, slowly lowered his weapon, but again started laughing.

  Amun-Lan nodded his head, giving the guards the approval to move forward. As they rushed to arrest the hooded man, he surprised them by swiftly reaching into his pocket. He then quickly pulled out a small, blue vial, which he brought to his lips and drank down. In a matter of seconds, he fell to the floor.

  The guards immediately inspected his body and found him dead. They also found a small, circular object in his hand, and brought it to Amun-Lan.

  Pei felt utter panic and could no longer hold back. “What has happened?!” he sharply cried to Amun-Lan.

  At that point, Ayn could not speak. All he could do was stare helplessly at his beloved Lan’s blood-stained body on the floor. He was not moving, and Ayn could only assume that he was very close to passing into The Un.

  “I do not know,” the elder Lan replied while looking at the strange, circular object in his hand. “All that I can say for certain is that we have been attacked - by whom, however, I am unaware. Clearly, this man did not work alone, which causes me great concern.”

  Amun-Lan then nodded to his fellow priests, ordering them to bring both Meddhi-Lan’s body and Ayn into the secret chamber of Adin. He told the guards to follow Ayn and to protect him at all costs.

  Pei tried to hold Ayn’s hand as they walked, but Ayn refused it. Ayn was too hurt to be comforted; all he knew was that he would follow wherever the priests were taking his beloved Lan. Even if he had passed to the other realm, Ayn wanted to stay with him in any way possible for as long as he could.

  Atlar helped his still shocked daughter to rise to her feet. “Are you alright, Ona?!” he asked, worried. “Yes, I think so,” she replied, shaken, yet recovering. He then went to the body of the hooded man so that he could get a closer look. “This man is Ohrian,” he said angrily as he removed the hood of the dead assassin. With this announcement, all eyes were suddenly on the king and queen of Ohr.

  Feeling the heat of the room, Lod Enra felt compelled to react. “I do not appreciate your accusation, king of Kri!”

  “Who else would have so much to gain?” snapped Atlar with a suspicious glare toward Lod Enra.

  “Enough!” Amun-Lan interrupted while still wiping Meddhi-Lan’s blood from his hands. “We will soon see who is really to blame in the coming days. As of right now, we must all act as allies who shall unite in protecting Deius, and our new king.”

  King Atlar and Lod Enra stared at each other, distrustful and defensive.

  The elder priest continued, ignoring their anger, “Your children must be kept safe, so I suggest you send them to their rooms. However, I would appreciate both of your counsel... if you will please follow me.” The two kings nodded as they followed Amun-Lan out of the chamber and into the Holy Order’s meeting room.

  --

>   Ayn felt entirely lost. He thought for a moment that he had simply been dreaming, for it could not seem real to his mind. He sat on a chair in Adin’s “Planning Room” – the same room he had secretly entered before the doom of the coronation. Why did this happen? Why did this have to happen to MY Lan?! he cried to himself.

  Pei wasn't doing much better with his emotions. He helplessly watched as the few priests who were trained in the nearly lost art of medicine feverishly attempted to seal Meddhi-Lan’s wound. It was nearly impossible, however, and his blood seemed to pour from all directions. Pei began to break. “Please, please, PLEASE!” he begged The Un over and over again in his mind.

  Ayn knew it was hopeless, for he could feel how close Meddhi-Lan was to passing over. He had tried to reach his beloved Lan’s mind, to say a final farewell, but he could not contact his Lan's conscious thought. It seemed Meddhi-Lan had become one with his dreaming, and soon, he would fall into the deep sleep of death. In despair, Ayn looked at his own blue robes, now stained with the spattering of his beloved Lan’s blood. It made him want to throw up his insides as he began uncontrollably weeping. He shivered and shook, then fell to his knees.

  Pei, noticing Ayn’s collapse, had no choice but to remain strong for his little brother-in-soul who seemed even more torn apart than he. Unfortunately, just as before, when Pei reached for Ayn, he was refused. Pei could do nothing but watch Ayn’s pain from a distance, and it broke his already torn heart.

  Just then, Meddhi-Lan gasped as his body gave final jerks of movement. After one final breath, he was no longer physically living. The priests then covered him in a long, white cloth, hanging their heads low while silently chanting in honor of their deceased holy leader.

  Ayn wailed and Pei cried tears of shock. Desperate for warmth, Ayn finally allowed Pei to embrace him, and they held onto each other as if it were the end of their days.

  Chapter 9: The Darkness of the Tomb

  Amun-Lan closed the door as soon as King Atlar and Lod Enra entered The Holy Room. Most of the priests were present, except for Pei and those who were attending to Meddhi-Lan’s wounds. The room was silent and still.

  “We must manage to see past our sadness so that we may be able to determine the nature of what has just occurred,” Amun-Lan sternly said, breaking the silence. He looked at the faces of his fellow priests who appeared as if all life had been drained from their bodies. “Our prayers are with the spirit of our high priest,” he continued as he walked to the center of the room, near the altar, “but at this very moment, we must evaluate what has just happened and discover who is behind this attack, for I am sure it was not that suicidal gunman alone who is to blame.”

  Atlar shook his head, then rubbed his eyes, as if he suddenly broke from a trance. “All I know is Meddhi just saved the Shiva’s life!” Atlar nearly shouted. “He saw that assassin quicker than lightning and flew in front of the boy without a thought for himself! It was remarkable! He was as fit and fast as he was when he and I were young. He is a great, great man, and if he leaves this world having saved The Bodanya’s life, then we must protect your new king as steadfast as he did! If we are to honor your noblest high priest, and my greatest friend, we owe him no less.” Atlar tried to keep composure, but was unable to hold back the tears escaping from his eyes.

  “Yes,” said Amun-Lan, “Meddhi-Lan was my greatest student, and he would want us to protect The Bodanya Shiva at all cost, which we will.” Amun-Lan reached into his robe and pulled out the object that the guards had retrieved from the gunman’s body. “But this,” said Amun-Lan holding up the object, “is what I am most concerned with at the moment. We do not know what sort of device this is, for it is a kind of technology foreign to us. We fear it may be a weapon, but we do not know.”

  “I have seen those before,” said Lod Enra. “It is used for communicating and other forms of data transfer.”

  Atlar looked at the Ohrian king as if he had committed a crime by merely speaking. Amun-Lan, however, was curious and took a closer look at the object, noticing how smooth it was with its blue and silvery shine. “You have used one of these?” Amun-Lan asked Lod Enra.

  “No, I have not,” Lod Enra sharply replied, “but I know that many of my top scientists use them frequently to communicate.”

  “Interesting…” Amun-Lan responded as he further examined the object. It was a complete mystery to him and to the rest of the priests. Their lack of knowledge in science and technology had never quite bothered the priests before, but now, they were baffled and completely entranced, as if caught in the spell of the device in Amun-Lan’s hands.

  --

  Ayn felt cold and numb as he sat in the corner of the Tomb. His heavy, tear-stained eyes were transfixed on Meddhi-Lan’s motionless body as it lay on a stone slab, ready for the priests to perform their embalming ritual. Despite it being their tradition to do so, Ayn did not want his Lan to be embalmed as the other high priests had been in the past. He especially did not want it to be done so quickly after Meddhi-Lan had gone from this world. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do – his Lan’s spirit had passed, and Ayn could not remember what the feeling of happiness felt like; he only recalled the emptiness of despair.

  Pei, still gathering himself, had not realized Ayn had followed the priests into the ancient burial chamber, even against Pei’s wishes.

  “Ayn?” he called. “Ayn?!”

  There was no answer.

  Pei finally grew the courage to enter the tomb and saw Ayn sitting on a stone bench, watching the priests anoint Meddhi-Lan’s naked and pale corpse. Pei could not look at the sight and pulled at Ayn’s shoulder. “You should not bear witness to this, Ayn. Let’s go.”

  “No,” Ayn calmly spoke, as if hypnotized.

  “Stop being impossible!” Pei nearly shouted.

  Ayn did not flinch.

  Pei gathered himself and tried again. “I am sorry, my Shiva,” he gently apologized, “but we must not watch while they perform the sacred rite of preservation.”

  “I am going to watch, Pei,” said Ayn, transfixed on Meddhi-Lan, “but you may go if you wish.”

  Pei could not bear seeing his beloved teacher lying dead in front of him, yet he did not want Ayn torturing himself with the sight either. “Ayn… you must know, they will remove his-“

  “Yes, I know, Pei,” Ayn replied, steadfast, “and I will be here to make sure that it is done correctly.” Ayn seemed to Pei impenetrable, and it made Pei’s anguish feel all the more heavy. “Fine!” Pei sputtered. “Then I will go, even if you do not. I’m sorry, Ayn, but I must. I cannot watch this, and I wish you would not either.” With a twinge of guilt, Pei left the room.

  How can he watch them dissect our Lan’s body? Pei asked himself as he walked through the halls. He did not understand Ayn’s behavior at all. It seemed as if the boy who was wailing in pain just a few minutes ago had somehow disappeared and a new, mysterious being had taken his place. He wondered if Ayn truly understood what he was about to witness, and for a moment, Pei thought of turning back around to forcibly retrieve him.

  Remembering the feeling of the cold tomb, he couldn’t force his feet to travel in that direction. Instead, Pei told himself that Ayn was now The Bodanya and that he must know his path well enough to make his own decisions. Even though Pei still thought of Ayn as a boy, he also realized Ayn had been forced to grow up immensely, especially in the last hour. Pei nodded his head, telling himself that the guards were standing at the doors, just in case something happened. Ayn was as safe as he could be at the moment, at least that is what he told himself as he left the catacombs.

  Ayn, however, was not safe, most of all in his mind. He was viewing death as an end, an absolute, and he could no longer remember Meddhi-Lan’s teachings. He could not believe that death was merely the beginning of a new life yet to come. No longer could he see the spiritual nature of the world. All he could remember was blood, pain, and darkness.

  The priests did not want to extract Meddhi-Lan’s
vital organs in front of Ayn and refused to do so, even when he commanded them to do so with the voice of an angry young king.

  “I said do it!”

  “I am sorry, my Bodanya, but you will have to leave or we will not continue,” said the eldest priest in a firm, yet sympathetic manner. Despite his politeness, Ayn became angered and stormed out of the tomb.

  His anger was fleeting, however, and soon transformed to tears once again. This time, though, there was no Pei to hold him, no one to comfort Ayn in the darkness, and it jolted his heart into a place that goes beyond feeling numb. He now felt a shiver of insanity slip across his spine, and without knowing he was doing so, Ayn headed down winding stairs, toward a deeper, darker part of the tomb.

  He walked until he found himself at the bottom of a spiral staircase. No light penetrated the room, so Ayn lit a torch, which he instinctively knew hung upon the left side of the wall. It was an old kind of torch that required oil, and Ayn had somehow known where to find it, as if guided by a secret memory or by the spirit of a long, forgotten past.

  Slowly, the fire grew from the torch and poured its light onto the walls of the room. Ayn then saw that there were other torches he could set aflame. He lit them with the torch from the wall, then set it back into its holder.

  When Ayn turned around, he saw something that made him want to fall to his knees: a large golden coffin, flickering in the haze of the room. It was extremely smooth and carved in the shape of a man, and on the surface, there was a life-sized painting of a young, fair haired king. He held a scepter and wore a blue and gold crown, and Ayn knew without a doubt whom it was depicting. He was absolutely certain that what he was looking at was the death coffin of The Great Adin.