Shiva XIV

by Lyra Shanti

  “My dear friends,” said the king, extending his arms to face his colleagues, “I am certain that you have all heard of the tragic events that recently took place upon my visit to Deius.”

  There was a small rumbling of voices among the room, all male, and most of them middle aged and older. Atlar could sense their uneasiness about the topic, but he continued nonetheless. “I am here to tell you that I have seen first hand the terror and destruction that has befallen our good allies within the halls of the Deiusian palace. There is nothing left but rubble, blood and death - including the death of High Priest Meddhi-Lan, who was a dear friend of mine.”

  An elderly man then stood up and raised his hand to speak. It was Octian, Atlar’s older half-brother, and one of the most respected men on The Council. Octian wore white robes of fine linen with a purple, bird-shaped crest upon his right shoulder, which fastened his robe together. His mere presence silenced the room.

  “Yes, High Councilor Octian,” said Atlar.

  “Your Majesty, is it true,” began Octian, “that the next Shiva of Deius has indeed been… killed?”

  A hush fell upon the circle of councilmen.

  Atlar’s brow tightened as he swallowed hard. “I am afraid you are correct, Councilman Octian,” he solemnly replied, “and I suspect that the man responsible for his death is none other than Yol Notama, the leader of The Tah rebellion.”

  The Council broke into gasps and shouting.

  Atlar raised his hand, silencing the room. “Good councilmen, as you know from our past meetings, my Lirhan warriors have reported that The Tah is still at large on Deius, though it is perhaps worse than we feared. No one could have imagined they would have gone as far as to kill The Dei's God-King.”

  Next to stand was Raifar. He was a middle aged man with a red beard and a gentle face. He was also Atlar's younger brother and First General of the Krian Army. “But was his body ever recovered?” asked Raifar. “Did anyone actually witness the boy die?”

  “I doubt there could be any other outcome,” Atlar sternly answered. “Unfortunately, there was no time to search for his body. However, the room that The Shiva had secretly been hiding in was bombed by the terrorists. I cannot imagine how he could have survived the blast.”

  There was a slight grumble among The Council, followed by a solemn hush. Octian then raised his hand to speak. “My King, Brother, I mean no offense, but you say the word ‘terrorist’ without hesitation, even though most on The Council are quite aware that The Tah rebels of Deius have long been active, publicly stating that they merely fight for their freedom and equality under the extremism of The Holy Dei.”

  About half of The Council erupted in applause. The other half sat in silence, baffled or disgusted. The subject of The Tah was controversial on Kri, and Octian never shied from controversy, especially if it meant Atlar would be tested.

  Octian raised his hand, capturing The Council with his venerable stature. “Please,” he continued, “my King, if I may, these rebels who seem to have attacked the Deiusian Royal Palace are not necessarily terrorists. Instead, they are possibly just angry, fed up civilians who have had little choice but to become extremists against the threat of The Dei’s tyrannical rule.”

  “Hear, hear!” said a few other council members.

  Atlar felt the opposition inside the room growing within seconds. He knew he had to counter with a swift and strong rebuttal.

  Just then, a red-haired woman entered from the side of the room. She was dressed in black and weaved between the men like an invisible serpent, unnoticed and unsuspected. Atlar saw her, however, from the corner of his eye. He had been expecting her, for Reese was his personal spy, as well as occasional lover. As soon as they made eye contact, she nodded, signaling with her fingers in a gesture that suggested she had vital information to give. The king nodded to Reese, but then he quickly turned his attention to The Council’s chaotic rumbling.

  “My good councilmen,” said Atlar, “I assure you that the men who attacked Deius were not civilians, nor were they the unsophisticated Tah rebellion of the past. They were highly trained, and even used Ohrian weaponry, which means Ohr was possibly behind the entire operation!”

  The Council roared in disbelief.

  “Impossible!” Octian shouted above the other voices in the room.

  Atlar, using only his magnanimous presence, hushed them by simply raising his firm, strong right hand. He waited until the room was silent, then said, “I speak the truth! I was there and saw it myself. Do you question your king’s own testimony?”

  He looked around at them like a fierce, proud lion. After a small pause, he returned to his gentler tone and said, “My friends... I have seen what sort of people we’re dealing with and they are hardened terrorists. I have also seen the face of the man who waged this war against our allies, and believe me, he is not the leader of mere rebels. Notama made it quite clear of his intentions: to destroy The Dei and take over Deius for himself. Make no mistake. This was a terrorist action of epic proportion and nothing less.”

  The Council seemed confused as Atlar locked eyes with his elder brother.

  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Baran, a handsome man in his early thirties rose to his feet. He had dark, shoulder length, wavy hair and was wearing a black and burgundy robe as all eyes turned to hear him speak.

  “May I suggest,” said Baran with a deep, clear voice, “that we conduct a thorough investigation of the facts before we come to any firm conclusion about who was involved in the attack on Deius.”

  The Council agreed by politely clapping.

  “And until then,” Baran continued over the clapping, “I motion that the king, as well as The Council, refrain from making blank assumptions with only limited information at their disposal.”

  Atlar didn’t normally allow men to speak over him or let them appear as if they were giving him orders, but Baran was different. He was the king's own beloved nephew, and the son of the much respected General Raifar. Such connections gave Baran the position of Second General, as well as a fair amount of respect within The Council. He was still relatively young when compared to the senior councilmen around him, but he had a debonair, manly quality that could often sway opinions.

  Unfortunately, not all embraced him. In fact, Baran's charm greatly annoyed Octian and many of the elder councilmen. The king, however, was well aware that Baran’s ability was something quite valuable.

  “Yes, General Baran,” Atlar replied, “I agree with your suggestion. In fact, I have already ordered our Intelligence Committee to conduct a widespread investigation. While we wait for their report, I ask The Council to vote in favor of my decision to send an elite unit of our Lirhan soldiers to the Deiusian borders.”

  There was another collective grumble in the room.

  “Objection!” shouted Octian.

  “Objection!” added another elderly councilman to his left.

  Soon, a sea of objections came flooding like a wave of disdain.

  Atlar looked around at the arguing men while fighting the urge to scream at the top of his lungs. Why are they such fools? he thought. How can they hear of the horror on Deius, yet turn a blind eye? What is wrong with these aging councilmen?

  Just then, Baran stood up and swiftly moved to the center of the floor, directly in front of where the king stood. Everyone was silenced as Baran held up his right hand. “Fellow councilmen,” Baran boldly addressed them, “I implore you! Listen to our king!”

  The Councilmen stared at the general in awe. Never had anyone from The Council stood next to the king on the speaking floor, as if he were his equal. Baran's boldness had captivated the entire room.

  “He is not asking for the full support of our entire army,” Baran continued, “but merely for a portion to stand guard at the borders between Deius and Kri. Now, considering that we do not know how far these new Tah rebels will extend their hostility, or if they blame us as well for their grievances, I think it wise to send at least some of our
soldiers to the border for the security and well being of Kri.”

  Baran could tell he had reached The Council’s need for self preservation, so he continued with confidence. “I hereby vote that we send a limited military unit to the border to guard in effort to show our strength, for it would be foolish indeed if we were to give the impression we are just as easy to take down as our Deiusian allies.”

  The Council broke into patriotic cheers. Atlar nodded to Baran, who bowed to his king in return. With a subdued smile, Baran left the floor and went back to his seat.

  “Thank you, Baran,” said Atlar as he sternly eyed The Council before speaking once again. “My wise councilmen,” Atlar addressed them while slowly turning around in a circle, facing the entire room, “I ask you now to vote on my decision. Those who vote to send a limited elite force to the border of Deius, say aye.”

  “Aye!” Baran shouted as he proudly stood up.

  “Aye!” Raifar shouted, standing next to his rather persuasive son.

  Soon, one by one, the rest of The Council, including Octian, found themselves bending to the king’s will.

  Chapter 15: Metamorphosis

  Ona was about to knock on the door when she heard a loud thud, which nearly made her drop the tray of tea and honeyed biscuits she was bringing to calm Pei. Not able to shake the feeling of worry for the Lan, she had returned to his room hoping to soothe his nerves. However, after hearing such strange noises coming from his room, she feared she was too late.

  When she opened the door to his room, the first thing she noticed was the long braid of black hair at Pei’s feet. The second thing she saw was the razor, still in Pei’s quivering hand. He was standing with his back to her, staring at the mirror, as if frozen in time.

  Ona looked around the room for the cause of the loud thud she had heard, yet all that lay on the floor as evidence was a large bowl of water, usually used for washing one’s hands or face. She assumed Pei had accidentally knocked it over, perhaps when shaving his face.

  Oddly enough, Pei’s face didn’t seem in need of shaving, for it was dry and clean. She looked at him and became aware of how young his heart was, and how innocent and unworldly he seemed. She looked further at his somber, stoic expression and was struck with intense pity. She instinctively came to him, took the razor from his hand and placed it on the table nearby. She then gently held his hand and rested her head against his shoulder, hoping it would bring him some measure of comfort.

  The feel of her skin against his did more than bring Pei comfort; it completely woke him from the trance he was under, forcing up the tears that had been silently flooding inside his heart.

  “Why, Ona?” he heard himself ask despite the lump in his throat. “Why did something so evil happen to us?”

  The princess had no answer to give. Instead, she looked at Pei with her compassionate green eyes and held him with her loving, warm arms. Unaware of how deeply her actions affected him, Ona made Pei's heart skip a beat.

  As Pei wept, taking sharp, shallow breaths, Ona pet his back with gentle strokes. In a few moments, he felt warmed by her loving nature, which pushed back his tears.

  “There now,” she softly whispered against his cheek, “it will be alright.”

  Ona then felt Pei’s hands slowly reach for her sides as he pulled his head back, looking deep into her eyes, hungry for her in a way she had only read of in books. Surprised and curious, she found herself looking into his needy, gray-green eyes as he leaned in to kiss her soft, full lips.

  The rush of blood that filled Pei’s body was an intensity he had never known, and soon, he felt more than his blood rushing inside him, swelling his body. Embarrassed, he pulled away from her soft embrace.

  “I’m so very sorry,” he spoke with shame, turning away from her.

  Ona stood, silent and thunderstruck.

  Pei took a moment to evaluate what he had just done. His tear-filled eyes flickered back and forth in confusion. He gulped, then turned back around to face her.

  “It’s just…” he said as he took her hands in his, “you’re so beautiful, my princess! And I can’t help but love you!”

  Ona felt a smile escape from her mouth. She didn’t want to confuse him, nor lead him on, but she was genuinely moved by his sincere affection. Priest or not, he was the most handsome and romantic man she had met up to that point in her young life, and she couldn’t help but feel affection for him in return.

  Encouraged by her smile, Pei felt a new kind of courage well up inside his chest. “Ona,” he said, holding her hands, “the story you told me earlier… about the water spirit and the priest - that was about us! Or it could be, if I am willing to sacrifice my dedication to The Un so that I may be worthy of you!”

  Ona shook her head, somewhat shocked, yet touched. “Pei-Lan! My sweet priest… don’t be silly. You’re emotional and tired, and don’t know what you’re say-”

  “No!” Pei interrupted, “I know exactly what I am saying, perhaps for the first time in my life! I know my destiny now, Ona, and it is not to be a priest for a dying religion that cannot fend for itself in times of danger. No, it is my destiny to become a man of strength and honor… like your father! I want to fight for my planet’s freedom, and more than anything else, I want to be with you… to love you, cherish you, and give you all that I have, body and soul.”

  His eyes were penetrating and serious, which made Ona feel a little light-headed. What had she done to this man? He was willing to give up his entire life to be with her, yet she didn’t really know how she felt about it all. Did she feel the same for him? She knew she liked him and felt a familiarity, but it was too soon! How could she know her feelings so quickly? How Pei knew his own was a mystery to her.

  “Pei-Lan,” she calmly replied, “I’m deeply moved, but…”

  “Ona,” he said, stopping her from speaking, “I am no longer a Lan, nor a priest, so please, call me Pei from now on. Don't you see, Ona? I am finally sober and awake - more than I have been in my entire life! Please, tell me you feel love for me in return. Your love is all that I need to survive and to become strong.”

  Ona stood paralyzed, unable to think, let alone speak. Unexpectedly, Pei took her face in his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “Your face...” he whispered, “is that of a Goddess from an old legend. I love you, my princess, with all my heart.”

  Touched, yet confused, Ona smiled at him and said, "Sweet Pei, you've gone through so much. Let us walk through the healing flowers of my mother's gardens. Tell me of your life, and I shall tell you of mine, and that will be more than enough."

  Slightly embarrassed, Pei nodded as Ona led him through the gardens. The two held hands and let the magic of the gardens guide their fate.

  Chapter 16: The Uncomfortable Exchange

  Zin was becoming very frustrated, especially with the scruffy looking, middle aged man behind the counter.

  “How can you say that my ring is worthless?” he protested. “I’ll have you know that this ring has been in my family for generations!”

  Worried that Zin was about to give away their true identities, Ayn kicked Zin’s ankle.

  “Ow!” Zin blurted. Fed up, the annoyed Ohrian prince turned to Ayn and glared at him.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Ayn asked under his breath.

  Zin rolled his eyes. “I am trying to sell something in exchange for Xen money!” he replied in an angry hush. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  Ayn pulled him aside. “Well,” Ayn whispered, “it looks to me as if you’re behaving like a spoiled prince who demands to be served by his slaves.” Zin opened his mouth, aghast, ready to rebut. “What I suggest,” Ayn continued before Zin could talk, “is that we politely offer our valuables to this man, but in a way that makes us seem as if we are not as desperate as we actually are.”

  Zin took a moment to process what Ayn was saying. He then realized that his friend perhaps had a point. “Ayn,” he said, “you are more savvy th
an you seem.”

  Ayn proudly smiled.

  Zin turned around to face the pawn shop vendor once more, this time with a different approach. “My good sir,” he addressed the vendor with a gleam in his eye, “I offer you the finest jewels of Ohr. In fact, these rings you see on my fingers have been worn by royal members for thousands of generations.”

  Zin waved his fingers, showing off his rings like a proud peacock. The man at the counter raised his eyebrows, seemingly unimpressed.

  “It’s no good,” the pawn shop merchant said as he shrugged.

  Zin could barely contain himself and said, “What do you mean it’s no good?”

  “Look,” the merchant explained, “I see gems like that nearly every day.”

  “You do?” Zin asked, perplexed.

  “Yeah, I do. Ohrian jewels flow into Xen like they’re going out of style.”

  “But… I mean… how?” Zin stumbled, lost for words.

  “Look, maybe I can give you a few coins, kid, but...” Suddenly, the pawn shop merchant stopped talking and began staring at Ayn. Immediately, Zin feared that the man had recognized The Bodanya of Deius. He didn’t know how that would be possible, considering the priests had always kept Ayn secret, and would never allow any media coverage of their precious messiah. Even so, Zin was ready to grab Ayn’s hand and run - just in case.

  “Woah!” exclaimed the merchant. “Would you look at that!”

  Ayn turned to Zin with a fearful expression, silently asking for help.

  “Is that a genuine relic from ancient Deiusian times?” asked the merchant as he marveled at something hanging from Ayn’s chest. Zin and Ayn followed the merchant’s gaze, which led them directly to Ayn’s gold and red medallion. Zin remembered that Xen had been built by Deiusian kings and their artifacts would be greatly valued. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it before! “Ayn!” Zin nearly shouted. “Your medallion!”