Shiva XIV

by Lyra Shanti

  “Of course I remembered. You are a very brave priest, and I hope you will find rest and comfort in my home.”

  Pei felt a mixture of happy and sad, pain and pleasure. He was deeply wounded, and yet, he felt a sense of relief when he looked at the graceful beauty before him. Princess Ona seemed to Pei as if she moved like a veil in the wind, like a dancer in a religious concert from days of old. He could not keep his eyes off her as she led him through the sky-high, golden gates of the Krian palace.

  Kri was very different from Pei’s home planet; it was warm and pleasant with hardly any signs of plasma poisoning. Even on Deius, if one traveled to certain areas of various cities, there was a thickness in the air that made it hard to breathe. Kri, however, seemed even more beautiful to Pei than his own kingdom.

  He followed Ona blindly through the halls, looking away from her momentarily to view the white marble statues and other forms of Krian art that decorated the palace. He saw a marble statue of a woman in a lavish robe holding an apple in her right hand as well as a statue of a nude man with his arm hanging over his head. Pei had never seen such impressive and seductive artwork before. He was astounded!

  The most beautiful display of art, however, was the giant fresco of Krian Gods that covered the ceiling and walls of the main hall of the palace. There were colors of red, blue, gold, all carefully painted on proud, noble faces. As they walked, Ona informed him that her great-grandfather, an artist and inventor, was responsible for the beauty that decorated the palace. “He was a genius,” she told him as they passed through the halls. Pei felt as though he had stepped into another galaxy altogether.

  “Come,” Ona said as she motioned with her hand, “follow me, and I will take you to a room where you may rest.” Pei nodded and walked with her to a large room. It had a classic, Krian air about it, complete with a curved lounging chair and a painting of two young lovers in an embrace.

  “Will this do?” Ona asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” Pei shyly replied.

  He was overwhelmed and in culture shock. He didn’t know how to feel or what to do. He could only manage to feel a mix of emptiness and transparent despair.

  Ona watched Pei sit down on the lounging chair. He seemed to her like a lost boy who needed help. He sat with his eyes forward, motionless and seemingly void of emotion. She didn’t know what to say to him. Everything she could think to say seemed vapid and hollow. She was about to take her leave when she saw his eyes tear up with his mouth turning downward. Pei covered his face and uncontrollably cried.

  Ona rushed to his side, feeling a strong urge to help the sad priest in front of her who had recently seen the death of his own brethren. She could not fathom how lost he most likely felt; how alone and betrayed by his Gods. She found herself gently cradling Pei while hushing him until he slowly became quiet again.

  She uncovered his hands from his face and gave him a sad, but tender smile. He looked at Ona with melancholic longing. Her face seemed to him like the face of a Goddess, and her soul was like the light of the stars, though brighter than any he’d ever seen in the night sky.

  “I am sorry, Your Highness,” Pei said with a sniffle.

  “It is alright,” she cooed. “You have just lost your home and your loved ones all in one day. I cannot imagine how much your heart must be aching. It will take time to overcome such grief.”

  Pei nodded. He wanted to ask Ona to stay with him, not just for the moment, but for all eternity, though he knew he could not. She was a princess, and he was a meager priest. Plus, the Krian palace was her home where he was only a guest. Pei assumed King Atlar could come for him and ask him to leave at any given moment. Perhaps Ona would become tired of him and her sympathy would easily turn to boredom? He did not know what to believe in his mind. All he could do was continue to stare into her deep, green eyes, hoping he would somehow find an answer to his grief.

  Ona sat looking at the priest before her, wondering what sort of life he had up until now. She slowly raised her hand and touched his face, wiping the residue of tears from his cheek. She knew she was behaving unconventionally, but true to her proud nature, she didn’t really care. She wished to know him and to understand his people. Her mother was born the second princess of the Deiusian royal line, and through Pei, Ona hoped to find a revelation about her mother’s upbringing.

  “Pei-Lan,” Ona softly addressed him.

  “Yes, my princess?” Pei tenderly replied.

  “Have you ever heard the story of The Priest and the Water Spirit?”

  Pei shook his head.

  “It is an old Krian myth,” she said with a comforting smile. “It is the story of a young priest and his journey to the center of the ocean. You see, he had fallen in love with a water spirit who had taken the form of a beautiful young maiden, and so he vowed to marry her. Unfortunately, her father, the king of the ocean, did not want her to marry any man, let alone a priest. So she was taken deep into the center of the ocean where the priest could not find her. The priest, however, was so in love that it made him unafraid to face the storms and dangerous whirlpools of the ocean. So he built a small boat and with the help of Delma, the Goddess of mercy and love, he was able to penetrate the ocean’s core and retrieve the water spirit.”

  Pei was transfixed on Ona’s eyes, completely absorbed by her.

  “And then? Did he marry her?” Pei excitedly asked.

  “Yes, but first, he cut his long, braided hair as a token of his devotion to her. He swore to only love her and no one else, not even the Gods.”

  “That is a beautiful story, Ona,” said Pei quietly.

  “It is a story about sacrifice and devotion… to whatever is your heart’s desire. You see, the priest loved the water spirit more than he loved being a servant to the Gods.”

  “Yet, the Gods rewarded him anyway?” Pei asked.

  “Of course,” Ona answered. “Despite his betrayal to them, the Gods recognized his bravery and rewarded him for it.”

  “Krian Gods are very different from Deiusian ones,” said Pei with a sigh. He then swallowed nervously as he felt Ona’s hand reach for his shoulder. For a moment, they looked at each other in silence.

  Ona felt uncomfortably close to Pei, so she carefully withdrew her hand, trying her best not to offend. Not knowing exactly why she had told such a story, she gulped and stood up. She was trying to cheer him, but she wondered if she had gone too far. “Pei-Lan,” she said, regaining her equilibrium, “you are safe now, and my father wishes that you stay with us for the time being.”

  Pei sensed that Ona had pulled her feelings away from him, but he did not blame her for it. “How long does he wish for me to remain here?” he asked, trying to cover his nervous heart.

  “For as long as you would like. You are his guest, and you are under Kri’s protection.”

  Pei nodded, collecting his emotions. “Thank you” he said under his breath.

  Ona gave him a brief smile, then walked toward the door. “If you need anything,” she said, “please call for one of our servants. You will find the button by your bed.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” said Pei as he forced a smile.

  “Please... call me Ona.”

  “Thank you, Ona,” Pei shyly replied.

  “You’re welcome. Now, please, get some rest. My father will most likely call on you tomorrow to give testimony to The Council about what has occurred today. You will need your strength.”

  Pei nodded once again. Ona then went to the door, turning back for a moment to smile at him before leaving the room. Pei felt his heart return to darkness the minute she was no longer in his sight.

  He looked up and saw his reflection in a vanity mirror that faced him from the other side of the room. He stared at himself.

  Am I plain? he wondered. Surrounded by mostly priests his entire life, he’d never really thought about his physical worth as a man before, especially not when it came to the attractions of women. Beauty itself baffled him, but he hoped he was indeed
attractive, at least to the princess.

  After a few moments of contemplative thought, he found himself walking toward the mirror, as if pulled by an unknown force. Somewhere within his subconscious, a voice told him what he must do.

  Pei picked up a razor, normally used for shaving. He held the razor up, then closed his eyes. As if in a dream, he felt his actions a few seconds after they had occurred. He opened his eyes to see what he had done; his long braid of hair lay by his feet. Pei looked at the mirror once more, no longer a priest, but a man.

  Chapter 13: Welcome to Xen

  The docking area was rather huge, bigger than Ayn had ever seen. It was busy with people, like ants scurrying around a fallen piece of fruit. Zin told him that the people were probably tourists, as well as ticket-takers of the loading dock. “They’re the ones who take care of your ship while it is parked for any length of time,” Zin informed him. Ayn thought it sounded dubious, but Zin seemed perfectly confident about it all.

  After they had parked their Ohrian cruiser, Zin gathered up his belongings, which he had organized into a couple of black and silver suitcases. Ayn had no material objects to speak of, but it seemed that Zin had prepared for this moment for quite some time, having brought plenty of clothing and toiletries, enough for the both of them.

  “Are you ready for a new life?” Zin excitedly asked.

  Ayn wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t even sure where he was or what his reality had become, so he merely nodded with a complacent stare.

  Zin opened the hatch of the ship and took Ayn’s hand. Together, they stepped onto the escalator beneath them.

  Ayn was immediately awestruck by the buildings of the city. He had never seen such tall, angular shapes diving forward against the sky. He wondered if the architects who created them were angry with The Un, or perhaps they were infinitely proud men who needed to show the world what sort of creations they were capable of. Either way, Ayn was intimidated, yet intrigued. Xen was a city of massive and modern proportions, and compared to The Holy City on Deius, it seemed like a giant beast made of metallic skin.

  When they touched their feet on the ground, Zin approached the ticket taker who greeted him with a wide smile.

  “Welcome to the greatest planet in the galaxy!” exclaimed the ticket man who was holding a small rectangular machine in his right hand. He was odd looking to Ayn with his unshaven, scruffy face, and bluish-green hair.

  Zin thanked the ticket-man and gave him some money, telling him to be extra careful with his ship. The ticket taker gave Zin a receipt, promising him that his ship would be looked after with the best of care.

  Ayn nervously held onto his suitcase as Zin approached him while smiling. “Well, that’s done,” said Zin, stuffing the receipt into his pants pocket. “So what do you think? Amazing, isn’t it?”

  Ayn hesitated in his response, so Zin grabbed his hand and walked with him further into the city. The first thing they noticed was the sound of a mighty roar, which whizzed by them overhead. When they looked up, they quickly realized the whizzing had come from a fast moving train. As it rushed by, it looked to Ayn like a huge, crystal-white, smooth sort of snake.

  “That’s The Chord!” Zin shouted as it went by.

  “The Chord?“ Ayn yelled back. “What is it exactly?”

  “It’s the main way everyone here commutes. We should take it into the heart of the city!” Zin happily exclaimed.

  Following close behind his new friend and guide, Ayn clumsily carried his suitcase, trying his best to keep the pace. They soon went up stairs, which spiraled and seemed to go on for miles! Finally, when they reached the top, they had to wait a few minutes for the next train to slide through the opened silver dome that covered them from the smog-filled sky.

  When the oval doors to the train opened automatically, Zin smiled at Ayn with a wink. It was as if this was the happiest day of Zin’s young life, and Ayn had absolutely no idea why. However, as they sat down upon the long horizontal benches, Ayn began feeling a sense of wonder and calm. It was the first time since the horror of his birthday that he didn’t feel a deep emptiness and sorrow. He even felt a small amount of Zin’s excitement as he peered through the window in order to watch the traffic of floating vehicles hovering below them.

  “Look!” cried Zin. “It’s the Hithra Temple!” Ayn followed Zin’s pointed finger and looked to his right. Ayn could just make out a massive structure that had a marble surface with sharp triangular edges. He wondered what a temple was doing in a city that was known to be free of religion, but he didn’t ask his excitable friend. Zin was in such a happy state, and Ayn didn’t want to disturb him.

  As the train raced through the city, it made several stops before Zin got up and motioned to Ayn that it was time to leave. The two halves of the oval door slid open and they exited the train quickly with luggage in tow.

  “Where exactly are we going?” Ayn asked, already tuckered out.

  “Well,” said Zin as he paused for a moment, scratching above his right eyebrow, “I think we should just head into the artist’s section of the city and see where fate takes us.”

  “Fate?” scoffed Ayn. After everything that had happened, he seriously wondered if fate existed. “Aren’t your people scientists?” Ayn said with a hint of sarcasm. “Do you even believe in the concept of fate?”

  “My people may not,” Zin casually replied, “but I do.”

  Not knowing how to respond, Ayn walked on, silent and exhausted. By the time they reached the main transport area, Ayn felt as if he had been walking for a hundred miles. He didn’t enjoy all the endless walking, and he could feel himself beginning to stray back into the pampered, princely brat he only recently left behind. He wished Meddhi-Lan was there to take him back home to his comfy bed in the temple. About to cry, Ayn stopped himself, for he didn’t want Zin to see him break.

  Zin could tell Ayn wasn’t doing so well, so he stopped at a drinking machine and reached into his pocket, taking out a credit stick to pay for the drinks. Ayn immediately plopped onto the ground, crossed his legs and pouted. Zin smirked at him while waiting for the drink bottles to arrive at the bottom of the machine. However, the bottles refused to come. He tried again, and again, but nothing seemed to work.

  “You’re not gonna get anywhere usin’ that kinda money, kid,” said a man with a gravelly voice. “This machine only takes Xen coins,” the man added. He had graying, long, thin hair and walked with a slight limp. He came over to show Zin the type of coins he was referring to. He then held up his own bottle of blue liquid, offering it to Zin. “Want a taste?” he asked. “No thank you,” Zin replied, cringing. “I’d help ya out,” the scraggly man said after taking a sip, “but I’m down to my last coin myself.” With one more sip, he limped off and sat on a nearby bench.

  Ayn was immediately frightened. Would they have nothing to eat or drink? Would they die in this strange place? He couldn’t help but panic.

  Zin put his credit stick back in his pocket and thought for a moment. “Come on, Ayn,” he declared. “Let’s go and find a place that takes credit.”

  Ayn lazily got up and followed behind Zin. They walked by various shops and cafés, though most of them only took Xen money.

  Ayn was almost at his wit’s end when Zin burst with an idea. “I know!” he exclaimed. “There’s a trade shop over there!”

  “So?” Ayn asked wearily.

  “Well,” Zin replied, his aqua-colored eyes wide open, “if we can trade something for some Xen money, then we’ll be fine!”

  “Trade something?” asked Ayn. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” muttered Zin as he looked at his hands and legs, “but I’m sure between the both of us we must have something valuable we can trade for money.”

  Ayn was not pleased.

  Chapter 14: The Council’s Conclusion

  Atlar knew it wouldn’t be easy. He had been having it out with The Council as of late on matters of Deiusian religion, as well as Kri’s new alliance
with the Ohrian government, and things weren't going his way.

  Through Atlar’s twenty-year reign, he had often clashed with the majority of his elected councilmen, especially when it came to The Dei’s insistence that their young Shiva was the reincarnation of their legendary God-King, Adin. Atlar himself didn’t believe the boy was a God, but he did entertain reincarnation as a possibility. Besides, if Meddhi believed the boy would make a great king, that was enough for him.

  Unfortunately, The Council didn’t see things that way. They dismissed Atlar’s visit to Deius as nothing more than a gesture of courtesy and good politics. None of them believed in The Dei’s religious “nonsense.” In fact, most of them believed Deius was haphazardly run by half-witted priests who knew more about chanting than affairs of state.

  Atlar felt a bit differently, however. Having gone to school on Deius for the latter years of his adolescence, he had known Meddhi for a long time, and he had seen his good friend grow from disillusioned orphan to wizened holy man with a devout sense of purpose. He trusted Meddhi to be very capable of running Deius - blindfolded, if necessary - but how could he convey that to the twenty-four men who sat on The Council? It didn’t help Atlar’s position that his own wife, Pira, had been born the second princess in the Deiusian royal line. Her blood-ties to Deius were always a good excuse for certain members of The Council to accuse Atlar of partisan politics, and a few even callously called him a “Dei devotee” behind his back.

  Despite his adversaries, Atlar was an extremely popular king, usually able to overrule The Council’s objections, all the while convincing his people the validity of his plans. This time, however, he knew it would be quite difficult to hide his emotions while speaking on the floor. He could only hope that The Council would listen to him with, not just open minds, but open hearts as well.

  The Council Room was designed as a giant circle of elevated, marble steps that surrounded a flat, square stage. As he approached the center of the room, Atlar felt as if the spirit of Meddhi-Lan was somehow with him. It was a feeling both reassuring and heavy.