by Lyra Shanti
Once again, they were distracted by a new surprise: a loud clicking noise, followed by a muddled kind of interference. Then, just as they thought the disturbance had ended, a clear image began transmitting from the sphere on the floor.
To their shock, they saw the virtual image of a man with straight, white, shoulder-length hair standing in front of them. He was wearing a white and blue wreath of serpentine ornaments on his head while his face bore a scar that was shaped like a new moon on his right cheek. All who were present noticed his strange attire as well: a white tunic with a blue belt and a silver symbol on it, which looked like a snake, slithering around his waist. His outfit was neither particularly Deiusian in style, nor any other culture known to the men who were witnessing the image.
“Good afternoon, priests of Deius,” the man said with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I am Yol Notama, the leader of The Tah: a great army that you, in your ignorance, unknowingly created. Though you have chosen to ignore us through the years, we are here, and now, at your very doorstep. I am giving you this message to warn you that we will no longer stand for the tyranny of your prophetical rule and false superstition. Prepare yourself, you hypocrites of religion, for you will be held accountable for your crimes, and not by your supposed Gods, but by the people of Deius!”
Pei noticed how the man in the hologram did not blink, nor show signs of emotion, yet he was most definitely not of Ohrian decent. The man looked Deiusian with lightly tan skin and slightly slanted eyes. Pei’s mind wondered of what origin this man’s supposed army descended from and if they were all Deiusians. Who are The Tah? Why do they hate us? Pei silently questioned, slightly panicked.
“So take heed,” the white-haired man continued, “for your high priest’s death was only the beginning. I assume that he has died valiantly to save his prodigy, which I respect. At least he had some small amount of honor. However, all of you will be on trial soon enough. Consider his death a warning for what lies ahead of you. In approximately sixty seconds from the end of this message, your so-called Bodanya will be swiftly executed with a plasma-bomb, which has already been planted by one of my most courageous and cunning spies. After eliminating your supposed savior, you will all be next. You can expect a swift attack. Prepare yourselves and be ready for the beginning of your end. I sincerely hope your make-believe Gods hear your prayers.”
As Notama’s sinister grin faded with the end of the transmission, a shudder ran through Pei’s spine while his mind tried to process the truth behind the man’s threats, and if it was even possible. “There is no way!” shouted Pei. Just then, the strange sphere rose up into the air and spun with bizarre clicking noises. “I don’t understand this!” Pei yelled to Amun-Lan, who seemed just as confused, if not mortified. “Amun-Lan! Did you hear me?!” Pei again shouted as he waved his hand in front of Amun-Lan’s eyes.
“It is no use, Pei, he isn’t listening,” said Atlar. “Pei, listen to me. You need to go find The Bodanya, and quickly, and I’ll meet you at my ship. Do you understand, Pei? We need to get your king out of here!”
Atlar shook Pei’s shoulder, forcing him to forget about Amun-Lan’s trance-like state. Pei nodded and darted for the door.
Then, out of nowhere, there was a loud, thunderous noise followed by an unbearable wave of intense heat that threw Pei backward. He fell to the ground and was unable to think. The room seemed to be shaking, but he couldn’t quite tell.
Ayn! Pei cried in his mind. Ayn, I am coming!
Within seconds, however, his mind went dark, and he could no longer keep conscious.
Chapter 11: The Aftermath
There was a distinct, vile smell in the air that violently woke the young priest up with a choking cough. Pei's throat was burning, and his eyes were as dry as the Deiusian desert to the East. Nonetheless, he forced himself to open them so he could take in his surroundings.
At first, he could only see smoke in a haze of scattered debris, but as his eyes focused, he realized the devastation at hand. The entire room seemed shaken to its core with large blocks of stone that had toppled over to form a thin layer of white ash, covering everything like snow.
Pei coughed and attempted to stand. He felt his right arm pinch with pain as he stood, and his face felt flush from light burns. Everything else seemed fine; he was more mentally hurt than physically. He then immediately searched to find Amun-Lan.
He saw the other priests lying on the floor, some in twisted positions and others seemingly unconscious, but alive. Looking around, he panicked when he couldn’t easily find where Amun-Lan had fallen.
“Amun-Lan?” he called out with a voice that was rough and hoarse. Coughing, he repeated, “Amun-Lan?!”
Just then, he heard a man coughing. Pei followed the sound to find someone lying on the floor, half covered by ash and pieces of stone. Pei ran to him and immediately threw off the debris from his body. As he did so, Pei saw the familiar blonde locks of the Krian king and worked faster to alleviate his body from the rubble.
Atlar coughed, then uncontrollably let out an angry cry. Pei looked and noticed that his leg was twisted in a strange manner.
“Can you move?” Pei asked him.
“Barely,” replied the king, with a strained face, “but I’ve no choice. I’m not going to die here!”
Atlar reached for Pei’s shoulder and slowly forced himself up, ignoring the shock waves of pain that were shooting through his body.
“We have to go find the boy… the Shiva,” he said to Pei with a look of determined will.
“I know… but I can’t find Amun-Lan,” Pei replied in short breaths.
“It’s more important to find your Shiva, is it not?” Atlar snapped. Pei nodded nervously. He was in a state of shock and had no idea how to think straight. He only knew to follow Atlar’s commands.
“Now, help me walk,” Atlar ordered as he leaned against Pei’s arm. They slowly walked toward the door, carefully avoiding the bodies on the ash-covered floor.
Just as they were leaving, Pei noticed the white and blue robes of Amun-Lan camouflaged under the debris. He told Atlar to wait as he rushed to uncover the old man’s body. It was too late; Amun-Lan laid motionless with dried blood on his lips, his eyes wide open. It was a sight Pei never before imagined, and it broke his spirit. He screamed in soul-agony, throwing random pieces of stone across the room.
Atlar, not willing to watch Pei lose his mind, grabbed the flailing young priest by the shoulders, forcing him to get up. “Stop this, Pei!” he shouted at him. “We have got to get out of here – NOW!” He grabbed Pei by the chin and looked directly into his eyes. “Do you understand me? We must find out if The Bodanya is alive, and then get the hell out of here!”
Pei released a few final tears, then nodded in agreement. The shock wore off quickly when he thought about Ayn as he hoped against hope that his brother-in-soul had survived the blast. “Yes,” he said decisively, “Ayn is all that matters now.”
Then, the two men pushed open the door with all their combined strength and saw the same type of view as inside The Holy Room: guards and servants strewn about on the floor indiscriminately, some with broken limbs, others moaning in helpless lament.
Steadily, they made their way through the halls as Pei tried to locate the secret passages to the rooms of Adin. It was all in shambles.
When they approached near to the door of the once great library, they felt a strong heat coming from inside the room.
“It’s a plasma build up in there,” Atlar said as he put his hand up to the door. “We’ll get a face full of poisonous flames if we open it.”
“But Ayn was in there!” Pei yelled. “I left him in the tombs below!”
Atlar looked down, and it seemed to Pei as if he was saying a silent farewell.
“NO!” shouted Pei with more emotion than he had ever displayed in his entire life. “He CANNOT be dead! I refuse to believe it!”
It was too much for the young Lan to process, and he began violently screamin
g, his hands clenched in tight fists.
“It’s too late,” said Atlar, sympathetic, yet stoic. “We must get out of here, and fast! Do you hear me, Pei? We’ve got to make it to my ship!”
Atlar reached into his pocket and pulled out a black, oval-shaped transmitter. “Ona?!” he loudly spoke into the device. “Ona, can you hear me?”
After a few seconds of silence, there was a small amount of feedback, followed by his daughter’s voice. “Father? Father, what has happened?”
“No time to explain. You’ve got to fly the ship around to the rear of the palace and wait for me there. We have been attacked. The entire temple is in ruins! Do you understand? Fly the ship to the back area of the palace!”
“Yes, Father, I understand,” his daughter replied.
“Thank the Gods she’s alive,” Atlar said as he put the transmitter back into his pocket. “We have to go, Pei. We have to get out of here before-“
Just then, there was a crash followed by the sound of men shouting. Atlar and Pei heard screaming, followed by the sound of plasma-guns being fired rapidly.
“Come on!” commanded Atlar as he grabbed Pei by the collar of his torn, ash-covered robes.
Hurriedly, they ran through the halls, passing the survivors of the temple and nearby palace. The noises of gunfire and screaming made Pei want to be sick, but he knew he had to keep moving. He had to reach Atlar’s ship no matter what!
When they came to the doors of the back exit of the palace, the sun seemed to vanish, and dark, gray clouds covered the sky. To Pei, it seemed an omen of great doom, and he felt his soul twist in grief.
“There she is!” said Atlar as he pointed toward the giant, gold-trimmed, Krian ship. He then pulled Pei’s arm and ran with him toward the opening.
Ona greeted her father with a slightly frightened embrace. Seeing Pei was also present, she bowed to him, then hurried them both inside the ship’s huge hatchway.
“We must leave quickly,” Atlar said as he took his seat, pulling down the safety buckle. “Pei, you’ve never traveled into space before, have you?” In reply, Pei anxiously shook his head. “Well,” Atlar added, “then I suggest you buckle up, and hold on to your stomach!”
Ona showed Pei to his seat, then placed the buckle over him. She gave him a reassuring smile, and for a moment, the darkness in his heart lifted ever so slightly.
The sleek, gold-colored ship lifted from the dock, making its way over the landing, then into the air. In the span of a few moments, they were thrust into the hovering atmosphere of Deius. Pei felt as though he had been caught inside of a dream. He looked out through the window near him and saw Deius becoming smaller and smaller. He then fell into a deep, desperate sleep.
Chapter 12: A New Destination
Ayn could see his home planet from the oval window he was staring through. The sight of it made him feel cold and empty, as if he’d never see Deius or anyone he knew ever again.
Ayn turned to the young, Ohrian prince who was sitting next to him, hoping to find answers in his eyes. No answers came, however, as Zin gave Ayn a mere hint of a reassuring smile, which seemed to fade quickly.
“Where are we going?” asked Ayn.
“We’re headed for the planet X-314,” Zin responded with a far off gaze in his eyes.
“I’ve never heard of that planet,” said Ayn, his curiosity sparked. “Is it outside of our galaxy?”
“No,” Zin replied, awakened from his far-off thoughts, “it’s a small planet, just outside my planet’s borders. Maybe you would recognize it by the name of Xen?”
“Oh yes!” Ayn said with a glimmer of his former self. “I remember Meddhi-Lan once told me that-” Ayn suddenly stopped, overwhelmed by the painful loss of his Lan. All at once, he was filled with memories: his beloved Lan smiling, teaching, scolding, dying…
Zin noticed the tears forming at the corners of Ayn’s eyes. He took Ayn’s hand and held it.
Ayn was holding back everything – fighting his own soul’s sweet and loving nature. No more tears, he thought. It is over and gone. My home is no more.
“Do not worry, my friend,” said Zin as he held Ayn’s hand, “we’ll be safe where we’re going. No one will even know who we are.”
“How is that possible?” asked Ayn as he swallowed his tears.
“Well, Xen is mostly barren with only modern style cities, except a few, newly restored country-side areas here and there. I’ve heard that the only people left are the exiles.”
“The what?” Ayn asked.
“The exiles,” Zin repeated, “the ones who were either banished from Deius as traitors or the people from my own planet who were considered rebels or criminals. Of course, the Ohrian mafia rules the government, but I hear they usually turn a blind eye to most who exist there. I don’t think they’ll care about us. We should go unnoticed.”
Ayn had absolutely no idea what Zin was talking about. He hadn’t ever heard of Deius sending traitors to a barren planet. In fact, he could barely even process the notion of an exile or someone who was banished from their own planet.
Zin saw the lost look in Ayn’s face and tried to explain it further. “When X-314, or Xen, was less inhabited - before the Plasma Sickness - it was a beautiful planet full of lush trees and ocean. After the natives left, most of them relocating to Deius, all that was left was an outpost called X-314. It was a city that our leaders could control without anyone suspecting their actions. After the civil war on Deius a few hundred years ago, your kingdom’s leaders sent many of their unwanted people to the now relatively desolate planet.”
Unwanted people? thought Ayn. And when was this supposed civil war? Why didn’t my Lans teach me about any of this?!
“Basically,” Zin added, “my planet’s leaders have long been using Xen as a place to send their rebels or discontents, which is funny considering how much criminal activity goes on behind closed doors - on both Ohr and Xen. My father doesn’t even seem to care. It’s ridiculous.”
“Zin! Why would we go to a planet full of rebels and criminals?” Ayn fearfully asked.
“Calm down, Ayn. It isn’t as bad as you may think.”
Ayn looked at him blankly.
Zin continued to explain as he got up to check on the ship’s coordinates. “Xen may be home to criminals and such, but it also has a great reputation for being the best place to go if you’re an artist.” Zin stopped as he touched oval shaped buttons on a screen. Ayn wondered what it was that he was doing. He knew it had something to do with the mechanics of the ship, but had no idea how Zin was able to understand it. “In fact,” Zin continued, “despite the mafia practically running the place, I’d say this is the ideal planet for the likes of us.” Seemingly content, Zin smiled as he sat back down with Ayn, crossing his legs.
Ayn could not understand the Ohrian prince sitting with him. For all the immediate closeness they shared between their souls, they seemed completely opposite of each other in every way.
“Don’t worry, Ayn. It will be alright.”
“How can you say that?” Ayn asked with a piercing look.
“I just know it. How much worse could it be than where we’ve come from? You with those so-called holy men who want you to be their God figure – their puppet idol! And me with my father’s denial of my true soul. I think we’re far better off on a planet where only artists and rebels are to be found.”
“You may have been unhappy, Zin, but I was not,” Ayn said as he looked away, folding his arms tight.
“Yes you were, Ayn. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”
Ayn became angry, but kept it inside. Who was this Ohrian prince? Who did he think he was to tell Ayn what he felt? Holding back his rage, Ayn stared out the window.
“You should eat something,” said Zin as he got up. “There are dried foods and drinks in the cold bin over there - to your left.”
Ayn nodded, but didn’t get up. He didn’t feel hungry, just tired and emotionally drained. All he wanted to do was find a
way to become numb. He closed his eyes and tried his best to meditate, the way Meddhi-Lan would have told him to do.
“Are you alright? What are you doing?” asked Zin, puzzled at Ayn’s behavior.
“I’m listening,” Ayn said with eyes closed.
“Listening to what?”
“To the hum of the ship.”
Zin sighed, unable to comprehend his new friend. He then walked over to the control panel of the ship and sat down in the pilot’s chair. He had set the coordinates for Xen, but was beginning to wonder if it had been the right decision. He’d wanted to see the infamous outpost planet his entire life, especially after reading about the many wild musicians and artists that lived there, but was it safe? Then again, he no longer believed any place was truly safe.
It didn’t take long before both young men began to drift in their minds. After a few minutes, they soon fell fast asleep.
--
Pei awoke to her beautiful, loving face in the twilight of a new day. She smelled like flowers and scented oils. Is this a dream? he wondered, still half asleep.
“Good morning,” Ona spoke softly near Pei’s ear, her sympathetic voice coaxing him awake. “We have arrived at my home planet, and I am to take you to the palace.”
Pei sat up and wiped his eyes. He immediately noticed the change in the air, which was somehow cleaner and crisper, and it made it easier for him to breathe. He wondered if the mountains of Kri were located near the palace and if he would be able to see them from where they were.
“Where is your father?” he asked the princess with a calm, yet concerned face.
“He is already preparing to speak to our kingdom’s council… about everything that has happened.”
“Will he ask them to help us?” Pei questioned as he stood up.
“I am sure that he will, Pei-Lan.”
“I am honored that you remembered my name,” he said as he followed her through the ship’s enormous hatchway.