Shiva XIV

by Lyra Shanti

  Ayn frowned and walked a few steps backwards. “What about it?” he nervously replied. Zin then turned to the pawn shop merchant and asked, “How much for his medallion?”

  The merchant squinted his eyes and thought it over. “Hmm… that depends on how old it is,” he replied, “and I wouldn’t be able to determine that unless I looked at it up close.”

  Zin rushed to Ayn’s side and said, “Ayn, show him your medallion!”

  “No!” Ayn said defiantly.

  “This is no time to argue, my dear friend,” Zin politely argued. “Just give him the medallion so we can get something to eat and find somewhere nice to sleep!”

  Ayn pouted and shook his head.

  Zin crossed his arms and looked at Ayn with stern, demanding eyes.

  “But Meddhi-Lan gave it to me!” Ayn cried out.

  “Shh!” Zin interrupted, not wanting to attract attention.

  “But,” Ayn continued, now whispering into Zin’s ear, “Meddhi-Lan gave this to me. It was his coronation gift… and it’s all I have left from him.” Ayn’s face showed his loss, which Zin could not ignore. He felt terrible for Ayn, but he also wanted them to survive. Zin knew he had to make a hard choice - for both their sake.

  “Listen to me, Ayn,” he softly whispered, “I know it hurts to let your teacher go, but you must remember the truth of his teachings. Wouldn’t Meddhi-Lan tell you his spirit is always with you? And that a medallion alone does not carry his teachings or his spirit? Would he not remind you that his spirit still resides within you and inside your memory of him?”

  Ayn pouted while listening to his friend. He hesitantly nodded, then swallowed down his sadness. “I suppose you’re right,” he quietly agreed.

  Zin nodded. “Besides,” he continued, “we may yet get it back someday - you never know. But what I do know is that we need to get food and shelter. That is what’s most important in the here and now. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Ayn nodded halfheartedly. Zin motioned for Ayn to give the man behind the counter his medallion, and Ayn reluctantly did so.

  “Oh, yes!” the merchant said as he eyed the ancient Deiusian relic. He then bit into the medallion, which made Ayn cringe. “Oh, yes indeed! This is a rare piece of jewelry! I wouldn’t be surprised if it had been worn by a king!” the merchant exclaimed.

  Ayn and Zin both silently squirmed.

  “’Ey,” added the wild-eyed merchant, “how’d you two come across a fine piece like this?”

  Ayn and Zin again squirmed, this time more noticeably.

  “Ah, don’t you kids worry about it,” said the merchant with a grin. “We don’t ask questions on Xen. How you get your goods is your business!”

  Zin exhaled and smiled while Ayn looked queasy from the whole ordeal.

  “So, how much are you willing to give us for it?” Zin asked with a determined face.

  “Oh, well… for this type of relic,” the merchant stalled, “I might be able to give ya a lot more than what I got on hand. Why don’t you both come back tomorrow, and I’ll have the full sum of what this beauty’s worth.”

  Ayn and Zin both felt immediately sickened by that idea. They could sense the innate attraction to wickedness and dishonesty within the man’s nature. Waiting a day more would surely be the man’s chance to cheat them somehow.

  “No,” said Zin adamantly, “I think we will just take whatever it is you can give us right now.”

  “Well, alright,” the merchant replied, “but it ain’t gonna be what it’s really worth. It’ll be your loss!”

  “That’s quite alright,” Zin said as he held out his hand for payment.

  The merchant frowned, looking disappointed. He then reached into his money-drawer and began counting out pieces of Xen money, which Zin informed Ayn was called “nex.” It reminded Ayn of Deiusian money, which he hadn’t seen himself, but had read about in stories.

  The merchant handed Zin one thousand nex in bills and five hundred in coins. Ayn had a sinking feeling that the amount they had been given was not nearly equal to the value of his precious medallion, but he remained quiet. Zin quickly took the money, then pocketed it into his Ohrian style wallet, which was black and smooth.

  “Nice doing business with you, my friend,” Zin said to the merchant as he gave a slight bow.

  “Likewise,” said the amused merchant.

  Zin led the way as he exited the pawn shop with Ayn trailing behind. When they were outside the shop, Zin joyfully shouted, “Yes!” He then attempted to playfully hit Ayn’s hand in the air, to which Ayn stood still, confused at what Zin was doing.

  “Oh come on, Ayn!” Zin nearly shouted. “We have money! We’re going to live!”

  Ayn immediately hushed him, worried someone unsavory might hear such a decree of wealth. “Zin! Don’t you realize that we have just been robbed?” scolded Ayn.

  “How so?” Zin asked, perplexed.

  “That man gave us less than half of what my medallion was worth! By the Gods, it was once owned by The Great Adin himself!”

  Zin looked at Ayn for a moment, dead-faced. “Ayn… I love you... I do… but you really are still caught up in that silly game, aren’t you?”

  Ayn pouted and folded his arms. “What game?” he replied, confused. “What do you mean?”

  Zin sighed, then said, “I mean the game that those priests played on you. Every day of your life, they told you stories about how The Great Adin did this and that… and how you were supposed to do it as well. Except, in this life, they expected you to do it even better than he did.”

  “So?!” Ayn shouted, defensively.

  “So,” Zin repeated, “you have been brain-washed into believing that Adin was some sort of great God-Man simply because they convinced you of its supposed truth ever since you were a baby. The truth is, Ayn, you don’t even know if he lived as an actual person. It could all be a myth fed to the Deiusian people so they will obey blindly. Yet, you accept it as fact, merely because The Dei priests raised you to believe it, as if you’re a simpleton like the rest of the people of Deius. I know you are not a fool, Ayn, so stop talking like one.”

  Ayn’s eyes widened in anger and his very aura became inflamed with raw energy. Zin stood his ground, though he felt a little frightened.

  “I am NOT a fool! And you are wrong! About all of it!” Ayn shouted.

  Zin began feeling the eyes of the passersby on the street. “Look,” he quietly spoke as he leaned in closer to Ayn, “it doesn’t matter now. We can argue until we’re blue in our faces about our religious differences and opposing beliefs, but let’s do that later. Right now, all that matters is that we have enough money to get something to eat and drink, and hopefully sleep. Why don’t we just focus on finding a nice restaurant or hotel for now?”

  “Fine,” Ayn defiantly replied. Zin sighed, trying his best to remember Ayn was younger than he was and had been raised even more cloistered than he had been. Zin knew that it would take time for Ayn to get used to how the real world worked, and in the meantime, Zin believed himself to be Ayn’s protector.

  Ayn, however, thought of things very differently.

  --

  “Excuse me,” said Reese, as she came upon Ona and Pei, who were walking among the gardens and exchanging stories of their youth. Reese looked at them for a moment, wondering if something more than friendship was sparking between the princess and the priest.

  “Yes?” Ona said, hoping Reese bore no bad news.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, your highness,” said Reese, “but your father wishes to talk with the priest... in private. He is to follow me to see the king.”

  Pei felt honored, yet unnerved. He wondered if Ona’s father had somehow learned of their secret kiss, though he couldn’t imagine how Atlar would have found out. Pei swallowed nervously, hoping for the best.

  “Why does he wish to see Pei?” Ona asked Reese.

  “I don’t know, my princess.”

  “Well, then I’m coming too,” declared Ona. Reese l
ooked as if she was about to object, but instead, she smiled and nodded in acceptance. “As you wish, Your Highness. Follow me, please,” Reese politely requested.

  Pei had no idea what King Atlar wanted to see him about, if not the kiss. He hoped it had to do with Atlar's plans for bringing the murderer of Meddhi-Lan and Ayn to justice. He couldn’t even think their names in his mind, for it brought too much pain.

  Pei hoped Atlar was going to ask him for testimony about the man who called himself Yol Notama. It would be difficult for Pei to remember what happened in detail, but he was determined to do whatever he could to help Atlar destroy The Tah. Despite his religious upbringing, Pei couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of vengeance. He wanted Notama, and everyone responsible for the bombing, to feel the wrath of Kri’s mighty army.

  As he followed behind the strong-armed, red-haired woman whom he found to be very attractive despite her tough, warrior-like exterior, he looked over at Ona, who was walking beside him through the halls with a very serious look on her face. He wondered if she had already forgotten the sweet kiss they had shared in his room. He wanted to say something to her, but felt it wasn’t the right time. He decided to bring it up sometime later when they found themselves alone once more.

  Reese led them through the vast hallways of The Royal Palace. Pei imagined he could easily get lost in such a grandiose, epic-sized structure; it made the palace on Deius seem small in comparison.

  They soon took a turn down a smaller hallway, which lead to a private, hidden chamber. As Reese turned the golden doorknob of a green-colored marble door, they entered and saw that the king was sitting at a desk while wearing a regal, yet casual looking burgundy robe. Pei assumed that Atlar was wearing his night time attire because he was readying for bed. It made Pei wonder why the king would wish to speak with them at such a late hour.

  “Good! Reese, thank you for bringing the Lan!” Atlar exclaimed as he stood up. “Ona, you’ve come too, I see,” he added with a slightly displeased, albeit amused grin. Pei immediately bowed to the king, which Atlar responded to with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if to say there was no need for such formal behavior. Pei, a little confused, straightened up and nodded his head.

  “Father,” Ona quickly addressed him, “Why did you want to see him? He is tired and very weary from his ordeal. Why bother him?”

  The princess stood in front of the king’s desk with her arms crossed, scolding her father with her eyes. Pei found her bold behavior surprising, but touching as well. He wondered if she was feeling protective for him. Did that mean she felt for Pei the same love he felt for her? His heart sped up at the idea.

  “Calm down, my spirited daughter,” Atlar said with a smile, “I have something very important to discuss with Pei-Lan - something I’d like to talk to him about in private, if you don’t mind.” Ona stood defiantly still with crossed arms. Realizing his daughter had no intention of leaving, Atlar walked to the front of his desk and directed his attention to the young priest.

  “Now, Pei-Lan,” said Atlar.

  “Please, Your Majesty, just call me Pei.”

  “As you wish,” the king replied. “Pei... I know you have been through a terrifying event, as we all have, though you perhaps even more.” He walked across the room and motioned for Reese to shut the door. She complied, locking it as well with several plasma-locks. “But you must understand,” Atlar continued, “right now, we have to focus our energies on more important matters,”

  Atlar spoke with commanding majesty as he picked up a golden carafe and poured a glass of wine for himself. He offered a glass to Pei, but Pei politely declined the offer.

  “More important matters, Your Majesty?” asked Pei.

  “Yes!” Atlar confirmed. “We must not let our hearts have the time to grieve. We must turn our pain into strength!”

  Pei had no idea what Atlar was trying to say, but he could sense the meaning behind the king’s words. The Deiusian priests often used meditation to escape their pain, transcending it through blank stillness. However, what the king seemed to be talking about was altogether different. Pei hoped that whatever Atlar was about to ask of him had to do with their plans for revenge.

  Seeing the look of determination of Pei’s face, Atlar nodded with an austere smile. “You know what I am talking about, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” Pei answered in a gruff whisper, “I think I do.”

  “Good,” Atlar nodded as he put his glass of wine down on the table. “Now, let me ask you something, my friend.” There was a hush that fell upon the room. Atlar turned to Pei, looking at him intently, and said, “If you thought there was a way to bring the murderer of your people to justice, how far would you go?”

  “Father!” Ona shouted, sounding rather offended. Reese quietly sighed, then sat down on a luxurious looking chair, waiting for the drama to end.

  “Let me continue, Ona,” Atlar commanded. Pei wondered how close they were as father and daughter. Sometimes, it seemed to him that Ona had no problem defying her father, as if King Atlar were just a common person on the street. However, at other times, they seemed rather affectionate. Being an orphan, Pei had a hard time grasping their parent-child dynamic, but he soon came to the conclusion that their relationship was complex, yet deep. It was something he hoped to one day understand.

  Ona shook her head, then sat down on a chair next to Reese who grinned back at Ona, teasing her without speaking.

  Atlar then walked over to Pei and stood in front him. “My friend, I’m not asking you to fight or do anything overtly dangerous…”

  “But I want to fight!” Pei interrupted the king, much to the surprise of everyone in the room.

  Atlar looked stunned, but soon recovered and said, “Pei, you may not understand what it is I’m asking you to do. I simply want you to make your case to The Council. You see, they are having trouble seeing the severity of what has been done to your kingdom, as well as the after effects that will come to us here on Kri. Once it is known throughout the galaxy that a madman killed The Bodanya of Deius, there will be an uproar among the many Shiva sympathizers living on Kri. If word goes out that we, the people’s elected leaders, allowed such a tragedy to happen, there will be protests and possibly riots. I highly doubt The Council will want such impending calamity.”

  Atlar walked to his desk. He then held down a button and spoke into it. “Baran, can you come in here, please?” A few moments later, a strong man with dark, wavy hair entered the room. Pei assumed it was Baran, noting to himself that only someone extremely trusted by the king would have the secret code to unlock the door.

  “Yes, my King?” Baran said as he quickly bowed. Pei immediately sensed that Baran and the king had a close friendship.

  “Pei, this is Baran, my Second General and nephew,” Atlar announced. Baran nodded to Pei, then looked back at Atlar, waiting for his orders.

  “Pei, I want you to speak to The Council tomorrow,” the king continued. “Baran will introduce you and speak on your behalf. Then, I want you to tell The Council all about how the man named Yol Notama killed your teacher, your Bodanya, and nearly all of your fellow priests. I want you to be explicit, Pei. That’s important. I want you to make them understand and feel your pain - your suffering - so that they will see through your eyes, and ultimately, feel consumed with as much guilt as their king does.”

  The room fell silent. Pei could see the sincerity on Atlar’s face. In that somber, quiet moment, Pei vowed in his mind to follow the Krian king before him with all his loyalty and pride.

  “Will you do this for me, Pei?” Atlar gently asked. “I know it will be painful to talk about what happened, but I know that if you speak, they will listen."

  Pei nodded. “Yes, my King,” he solemnly answered. “I will gladly speak to The Council, and I will tell them how that madman sent his assassin to destroy the two most important people in my life. I will make them understand how that loss affects, not just my planet, but the entire Un!”

  “Good,�
�� said Atlar. “But don’t go too much into your religious beliefs. That would probably distance them. Instead, pull at their heart strings, if you can. You see, Pei, it is my objective to gain The Council’s consent so that my army can wage a full war against Yol Notama and his followers. As it is, they will only allow a small scale investigation, which Reese here will be leading.” Reese nodded.

  Atlar put his hand on Baran's shoulder and added, “As soon as we find out more about these terrorists, specifically about Notama, I will send Baran into battle with the full force of my army. For now, if you can convince The Council that what their king wishes to do isn’t madness, but justice, then I am certain Meddhi-Lan will finally be at peace.”

  At the mention of his Lan’s name, Pei felt like his heart could break into a thousand pieces, and yet, Atlar somehow found a way to stir something long hidden in his soul. A courage that had been asleep inside him was now awakening, and it roared like a dragon, ready to fly into battle!

  “I will do whatever it takes, Your Majesty!” Pei declared. “I will speak to The Council tomorrow, yes. But even more than that, I wish to fight! Let me fight alongside Baran and your soldiers! Please, let me help take down the man who killed my teacher and brother-in-spirit!” With pleading eyes and heaving chest, Pei nearly broke apart in tears.

  Atlar understood Pei’s deep sorrow and rage, for he felt much the same. The king walked to Pei and gently laid his hands on the emotional priest’s shoulders. “My friend, I know you are in pain,” said Atlar, “but you must let the fighting be done by experienced warriors who-“

  “No!” Pei interrupted as he threw off Atlar’s hands from his shoulders. However, Pei quickly realized his rudeness and bowed his head. “I am deeply sorry, Sire, but I cannot sit still while others fight for my own home!” Determined, Pei looked directly at the king who was a little startled by his passion.

  “Your Majesty, with all due respect, I have changed in an irreversible way,” Pei continued his plea. “Do you not see that I am no longer a priest? Can you not see that, inside my soul, I have become a warrior? Do you not understand that I MUST fight or I feel my soul will die?!”