by Lyra Shanti
“That is untrue,” said Baran, incensed. “Queen Pira fell in love with Atlar. Everyone knows that.” Reese smirked, then shushed him, patting Baran’s shoulder.
“Finally,” said Octian, “he took my son's life, as well as many more Krian sons, when he declared war against the Ohrian mob who controlled Xen. It was a useless, shameful, stupid war that we never should have entered. I even warned him that Kri would fail to conquer Xen! But did he believe me or even listen to my advice? Of course not! He is a foolish, brash brute and always has been since he was a child!”
Darvis didn't seem to know how to respond to Octian's ranting. Instead, he stood, thunderstruck and speechless. Baran, however, was appalled by Octian's charges and was doing his best to control his anger.
“I am very sorry for your loss,” Darvis said in a soft voice.
“I don't want you to be sorry,” Octian replied, “I want you to be loyal.”
“Loyal?” Darvis repeated, confused.
“Yes, loyal - loyal to Kri, to your people, and to me as well, for I am your mentor and your true friend. You were always there for my son, and now, I will be here for you.”
Darvis stood for a moment in perplexed silence.
“What...” Darvis slowly replied, “do you want me to do, Octian?”
The old man smiled. He then took out an Ohrian transmitter from a pocket inside his robe and handed it to Darvis.
“I want you to keep watch... and I want you to listen and learn everything you can about what the king has planned.” Octian motioned for Darvis to hide the transmitter on him somewhere. “Don't let anyone see you using this mechanism. It is Ohrian made, and there would be wagging tongues about using such technology while Ohr is suspect in helping overthrow the Deiusian royal line.”
Darvis nodded, hiding the transmitter inside his robe.
“Good. You've always been a clever, good boy, Darvis. That is why I've chosen you as my protegee. That is why my son loved you so, and that is why you will help me expose Atlar as the greedy, blood thirsty, unfit king he truly is.”
Darvis' face looked plagued with a mix of guilt, pain and sadness. It was clear to Baran that he was not a bad person, but young and full of sorrow, which Octian preyed upon.
“I will do my best to honor you and the memory of Leif, your beloved son and my most treasured friend,” Darvis said, fighting tears.
Octian nodded stoically. “Yes, I know you will,” he replied, giving his apprentice a tender, fatherly hug. Baran turned to Reese and saw that she was twisting the curls at the ends of her wavy, red hair. It was a habit of hers and one that used to make his heart pound with love... back when he allowed himself to feel that way for her. Now, however, he took it as a sign that she was hatching a scheme. It brought a smile to Baran's face as he thought, Some things never change.
--
They couldn't believe what they saw. Luc hadn't exaggerated; his cousin's hotel was the most beautiful and luxurious that either of the sheltered princes had ever seen. There was a grand entrance with a huge fountain in the shape of a Sirin-fish, which periodically spit out rainbow-colored water. Even more impressive was a giant, crystalline, plasma-powered lifting machine that took them to their spacious rooms. All of it was a glorious feast for their young, inexperienced eyes.
When they entered their rooms via their swiping cards made of smooth silver, Zin instinctively ran to the balcony. He opened the aqua, seashell-shaped doors that seemed made of the same smooth type of material as their entry cards. He then stood on the balcony and took a deep breath of Xenite air, which he commented to Ayn was much cleaner smelling than that of Lesnia, his own city on Ohr. Ayn too could smell the difference, although Deius had reduced their plasma use in recent years. He remembered that his mother had made plasma reduction one of her final decisions before passing. The memory made Ayn sad, yet proud as well.
“Can you see it?” asked Zin as he motioned for Ayn to stand with him on the balcony.
“See what?” asked Ayn who couldn't really see much now that it was nighttime.
“Look! It's that old Xen temple in the distance! Remember, Ayn? We saw it as we took The Chord into the city.”
Ayn leaned over the silver railing and squinted. As his eyes adjusted to city lights ahead, he saw the temple as well and felt a surge of warmth in his soul.
“I see it now,” Ayn said with a smile, “and if I remember correctly, it was called Hithra Temple.”
“That's right,” added Zin with a smile as pleased as Ayn's. For a moment, they both felt at peace.
Unfortunately, Ayn's fragile heart couldn't allow the good feeling to last. Unable to suppress his memory of Meddhi-Lan’s death, he frowned, distracted by the pain. Trying his best to focus on the moment, Ayn looked at the abandoned temple in the horizon and wondered about its origins.
“Zin,” Ayn said in a somber tone, “why do you think my people built a temple here?”
“Well, it was a long, long time ago, Ayn,” replied Zin as he sat down on a balcony chair and took out his elenon. “Who knows what their reasons were,” he added as he began fingering the strings, “other than their usual reason: to spread their so-called enlightenment.”
Ayn hated when Zin talked that way about his people - with such condescending sarcasm. Why couldn't he respect and appreciate all the different views and religions of The Un? Why couldn’t he view their diversity as being part of the great knowledge of life? Ayn shook his head, telling himself that his new friend just didn't know any better and that he should try to feel pity for him.
Ayn relaxed, listening to Zin play the elenon for a while until both of them became exhausted - Ayn especially so. When Zin stopped playing, he noticed Ayn had fallen asleep in his chair. Zin couldn’t help but smile, tickled by the sight.
Zin scooped his sleeping friend into his arms, which surprised Ayn who had entered the early stages of dreaming. He then lay Ayn down on one of the two beds in their room. The blankets were soft and warm with the texture of smooth, downy fur. It made Ayn feel somewhat comforted, despite his still aching heart.
Zin pulled up the covers and tucked Ayn in, much like he would if Ayn were his own little brother.
“Zin...” said Ayn with a tired voice.
“Yes, Ayn?”
“Can you stay with me... till I fall asleep?”
Zin smiled, nodding his head. He was reminded of how mentally young Ayn could still seem, which Zin believed was entirely the fault of The Dei priests.
Zin then opened the covers and lay next to his sleepy friend. “Everything will be alright, Ayn. You'll see,” he said, trying his best to comfort his new soul-friend. “Our lives will be better than before, I promise.”
Ayn pouted and turned away from Zin, curling his knees toward his chest. “That is quite a promise, Zin,” he sadly replied. Ayn waited for Zin to say something, but he did not. Ayn looked behind him and saw that Zin had fallen sleep. Looking closely at the sleeping Ohrian prince, Ayn watched how the gills on Zin's neck opened and closed ever so slightly in unison with his breathing. It fascinated Ayn and put him in a trance-like stupor.
Soon, they were both fast asleep, forgoing the pain of waking life for the soothing calm of the subconscious void.
--
“It is not for you to decide!” yelled the man with white hair and sharp jawline. “How DARE you make such decisions for the people without consulting us first?!”
Ayn didn't know where he was or who was shouting, but he knew that the man was shouting at him, and yet, not him. Was this a dream?
He looked around and saw familiar faces, though none he could immediately name. Everything seemed like his old palace, and yet, it was vastly different. The walls were blue instead of white, and the ceiling was triangular instead of oval. There were plants in every corner, giving the palace a tropical feel. It all seemed foreign to Ayn, but familiar as well.
He looked down at his hands and could see they were bigger than his own, manlier and more defined. Even
stranger, he saw that the top side of his hands were tattooed, inked in blue and gold. They looked like images of a winged, feline creature - very much like the cat-bird he recently encountered. Was that real or was that a dream? thought Ayn as he began losing grip on reality.
Panicked, he searched for a mirror to determine who he was and where he was located. He could hear the white-haired man shouting about rules and traditions and other things that Ayn didn't want to hear.
Racing to find his old room in the palace, he nearly knocked over one of the man-sized vases that held the over-sized, green, alien-looking plants.
“Watch yourself!” scolded a woman who was wearing a white dress with a white wreath of ona flowers on her head. She was familiar to him, but he didn't know why.
He apologized, then continued searching for his old room. It HAD to be there!
He finally found it, but when he opened the door, all that remained was ash and rubble. Then he remembered that his home had been blown apart, and someone had murdered his beloved father... or teacher. He wasn't sure.
“You shouldn't be here,” said a familiar voice coming from the doorway. It was a priest in a black robe.
It was Pei! He had come to rescue him!
No... wait. It wasn't Pei. it was someone else, but with Pei's eyes. Is he someone Pei used to be? thought Ayn, utterly confused.
“Please!” Ayn begged as he grabbed the man by the arm. “Please help me!”
The man with Pei's eyes shook his head, taking a step backward. “You should have asked me for help before,” he replied, emotionless.
Ayn felt the man's coldness as if it were a blast of cool air from the legendary mountains of Sirin.
Sirin... The planet's name suddenly gave him a jolt.
“Pei,” Ayn addressed the cold priest, “what happened to Sirin? Where are all the mountains and plants that used to grow there like weeds? What happened to the rushing oceans and the giant trees? Pei! Why did you never tell me what happened? You're my Lan now! I demand that you tell me!”
The man with Pei's eyes merely looked at Ayn with a melancholic, deadened glare.
“You should have asked me about all that before,” said the man, stoic and unfeeling.
“How could I?!” Ayn shouted in tears. “How could I know that my training would stop short like this? How was I to know that Meddhi-Lan would die?! Why do all the priests think I'm the one who can stop this insane universe from doing what it wants to?! What do you think I am, a God?! Well, I’m not! Do you hear me, Pei?! I’m not your Bodanya, and I can’t stop The Un from dying! I can’t!”
Ayn stood with tears of frustration streaming down his face, his shoulders heaving after screaming at the man with all his anguish.
As he waited for a response from the man with Pei's eyes, he noticed that the man's ears were bleeding, and not just his ears, but his eyes too! Is this my doing? Ayn asked himself, trembling in fear. No! I couldn’t have done this! he silently told himself. I couldn’t be capable of such an act of evil!
The man with Pei's eyes slowly collapsed and began bleeding from every orifice on his body. It was grotesque and horrific, shocking Ayn to his core.
“Oh dear Gods, what have I done?!” shouted Ayn. He looked down at his tattooed hands and saw that the cat-birds were moving with their claws extended, as if they were trying to scratch their way off his hands.
“Help me! Help me, Gods, please! Help me!
Ayn darted up from his bed, his heart racing. Droplets of sweat fell down his forehead as he came to his senses.
It was only a dream, he thought. Thank The Gods!
He threw off his blanket, and then stood up, fumbling around in the darkness. After hitting the night table with his knee, which tempted him to curse, he finally found the bathroom.
The water from the faucet felt like the cooling sensation of the Sirini plant, Oonwa, when applied to a sunburn.
Had he dreamt something about Sirin plants? Yes, it was something about how they used to be abundant, unlike the barren drylands of modern Sirin. Was there something else? wondered Ayn. I’m forgetting something important, I can feel it.
As he ran his hands under the water, Ayn felt his stomach turn with an uncomfortable, subconscious knowledge. There had indeed been more, far more, but he didn't want to remember. He could sense it was an awful dream and didn't want to recall it.
Once he had splashed his face with water a few times, Ayn clumsily walked back to the bed. Zin was still fast asleep, which made Ayn glad for his friend’s sake, but also a little sad that he was alone in the dark with no one to talk to.
Ayn hated being alone, now more than ever. He decided not to bother Zin and crawled into the bed nearby. His mind kept on racing, forcing him to amuse himself with other thoughts so that he wouldn't remember his horrible dream.
Desperately needing distraction, Ayn picked up a gadget of some kind that was sitting on the night table near his bed. It was smooth, oval shaped, and obviously Ohrian, as so many machines and gadgets seemed to be on Xen.
Ayn played with the object until it became activated by something he had pressed, though he wasn't sure how it happened. Lights twinkled around it and a feminine, yet machine-like voice said, “Command, please.”
Ayn was afraid the voice would wake Zin, but he didn't budge.
“Command, please.”
“Uh... um,” said Ayn, nervously, “I would like to fall asleep.”
Ayn noticed that the gadget itself showed the word “processing” in Deiusian letters. How strange, he thought. Why would an Ohrian device have its language set for Deiusian?
“Would you like suggestions to help you sleep?” asked the gadget.
“Yes, please,” said Ayn, amused.
“Do you wish to watch a serenity hologram?”
“Um... sure,” Ayn replied in a shrug.
Again, it showed the word “processing.”
Finally, it said, “Please designate your desired setting.”
Ayn didn't know what to say.
“Please designate."
“Okay!” he loudly whispered, trying not to wake Zin, “I want to see my home. I want to see Deius!”
Again, it read, “processing.”
After a few moments, Ayn was amazed at what he saw. Directly in front of where the doors to the balcony were, an image appeared. It was The Royal Palace of Deius. It wasn't just a picture, however; it was the most realistic hologram he had ever seen. It was as if he could reach out and touch the golden stones that covered the palace of The Holy City.
Ayn became breathless and burst into tears. He knew he'd never see his home again, and even if he did, it would never be the same. Its beauty was in shambles. How could it have survived?
Just then, as he was wiping his tears with his hands, he felt something move on the bed near his feet. He focused his eyes, but couldn't see anything there.
“Don't cry, young Bodanya,” purred the cat-bird creature while slowly becoming visible. “When you are king, all will be restored to your home, and peace will return once again to your people.”
Ayn couldn't believe that the cat-bird was now in his room. How did he get in? thought Ayn.
“I can go where I please... when I feel like it anyway,” said the creature as he licked its paws, looking like he was calmly grooming himself.
“But... how? And how did you know what I was going to ask you?” questioned Ayn.
“Oh, it's just something I was born with. Same as how you were born with your natural abilities.”
“What natural abilities?” Ayn asked, pouting.
The cat-bird frowned at him and said, “Why are you so unaware of yourself, Bodanya?”
“Can you please stop calling me that!” blurted Ayn, raising his voice, just above a whisper.
“Fine then,” said the creature, who nonchalantly climbed on Ayn's chest, nestling into him like a real cat would, “but if I'm to call you by your birth name, then from now on, you must call me Axis.”
&nb
sp; “Axis? Is that your birth name?”
“Well, it's as close to it as you Deiusians could understand.”
Axis began purring louder and lightly scrunched his paws, one after the other into Ayn's chest.
“What are you doing?” asked Ayn.
“I'm getting comfortable,” replied Axis.
Ayn didn't understand this creature, but he enjoyed his company nonetheless, and was grateful for it. Despite his slightly alarming, foreign appearance, Axis was warm, soft, and somehow familiar. It was what Ayn desperately needed at the moment.
“Alright,” said Ayn, “you can sleep on me, I guess.”
“Of course I can,” replied Axis in a yawn, “and I will. Now be a good boy, and get some sleep too. Tomorrow is a new day.”
“That is true,” said Ayn, also yawning, “but what if it's an even worse day than today?”
Axis picked up his head with his ears back and looked at Ayn.
“Listen to me, Ayn,” he said with a serious expression, “we are linked, and from this point on, I will tell you when you are in danger. You won't have to worry, for you will always be protected. Is that understood?”
Ayn didn't know what to say. He wondered how that would even be possible. He also wondered if this was just another hallucination. Was he truly losing his mind?
“And tomorrow,” continued Axis, “it will be difficult, yes. I won't lie to you, Ayn. But you will survive it, and when it is over, you will find true bliss.”
Axis yawned long and hard, then put his face down into Ayn's chest.
“Now go to sleep,” he purred, “and this time, dream of much happier moments in time.”
Ayn yawned uncontrollably, feeling as though Axis had control over his mind. He now felt comforted, calmed, and he wanted nothing more than to follow this strange creature's commands.