Shiva XIV

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Shiva XIV Page 22

by Lyra Shanti


  “Oh, you eternal charmer,” she said with a contented, catty grin.

  “You don't have to go,” he whispered softly. “I can speak with the king and make him change his mind. I’ll tell him I can go in your stead.”

  Reese smiled wide, truly touched by Baran's foolhardy, heroic tendencies. “No, my love,” she said as she slowly pulled away from his arms. “It has to be me. You could never pass as a Deiusian, nor could you fool Notama into believing that you're on his side.”

  “Yes I could!”

  “Baran, you may be a great warrior and a mighty leader – worthy of Atlar's inheritance even - but my love, you are just not good at spying. You are far too honest for this side of The Lirhan's battle. There is nothing wrong with that either. It's who you are, and this... is who I am. Please just respect me for what I am good at. I can do this, Baran. You must believe me.”

  Baran wasn't happy about what she was saying to him, but deep inside, he knew she was speaking the truth. “I do believe you are the most suited for this job, Reese, but... “

  She smiled and patted his chest. “Don't worry, dear, I won't get myself killed. You have my word.” She then gave Baran a small, gentle kiss goodbye on his lip, leaving him with a yearning sensation throughout his body.

  Watching her saunter out of the training room, Baran felt his heart drop with heaviness. Damn it! he thought as he hit the wall with his fist, I still love her!

  Chapter 20: The Lurking Shadow

  The sky was a perfect shade of pale blue, without a cloud in sight. Ayn couldn't help but smile at its beauty, and he took it as a sign from the Gods that he was indeed doing the right thing by traveling to the kingdom of Kri.

  “Zin, can I ask you something?” said Ayn, cheerfully, while the two of them walked along the dock, heading toward their parked ship.

  Zin quietly nodded, still sore about Ayn's decision to leave X-314. “Well... I was wondering,” Ayn continued, “where on Kri is Atlar's palace? Is it big? Is the Krian kingdom bigger than my own kingdom? Is the royal city also its own country, like it is on Deius? Have you been there? Do you know?”

  Zin sighed, rubbing his forehead. The way Ayn could go on in such an excited, little boy type of way amused, and yet, exhausted him. “Yes, I've been to Kri,” Zin replied. “When my father was first elected king, he brought my mother and I there so he could make a good impression on King Atlar who had just been elected king as well. I suppose he wanted Atlar to believe we were a close family.” To that, Zin gave a small, sarcastic snicker and then folded his arms.

  “Oh!” said Ayn, playfully hopping over the painted lines in the street. “You hold elections to determine your royal line on Ohr - just like they do on Kri?”

  “Yes, although, on our planet, it's more of a Dynastic government,” said Zin with a yawn.

  “So, your people don't just elect certain people as their rulers,” said Ayn, trying to understand, “but the entire family who will rule them?”

  “Yes,” replied Zin, sluggishly, “and then there’s the Prime Minister, who is also elected, but that’s a whole other part of our government."

  “Hmm, that's interesting,” said Ayn, “because on Deius, we don't have elections, we have successions. I mean, The Dei may hold private elections about which law should pass or fail, but for the most part, everything is decided by divine right.”

  “Yes, I know,” Zin replied, not only sluggish, but motionless as well.

  “What's the matter?” asked Ayn, noticing Zin's lack of movement as well as the strange look on his face. “Does it bother you that Deius is run that way?” added Ayn. “It's not my fault, you know. I didn't decide these things.”

  “No, it's not that, Ayn.”

  “Well, what's wrong then?” Ayn asked with a confused pout.

  Zin's silvery-thin brow knotted as he scratched the back of his neck, his gills slightly enlarged while turning a reddish hue. “Oh, I'm just wondering where my ship is, that's all.”

  “Huh?” said Ayn, even more confused.

  Zin pointed ahead of him and shrugged. “It was docked right here. I know it was.”

  Ayn looked at where he was pointing and saw the dock was completely empty with not a ship in sight.

  “That's... odd,” said Ayn, mystified. “Where did it go?”

  Zin shook his head, annoyed. Just then, he remembered something and began searching through the items in his blue-colored bag.

  “What are you looking for?” asked Ayn.

  Zin's brow was now sunk inward toward the bridge of his nose. Searching frantically through his bag, he became more and more agitated.

  “Zin?” repeated Ayn.

  “I'm looking for the receipt the man at the dock gave us when we landed yesterday!” Zin blurted.

  Ayn could tell Zin was far too annoyed to answer any more of his questions, so he decided to just let him be, taking the moment to sit on his suitcase for a small rest.

  In the distance, Ayn could see blue-green waves appearing to belong to an ocean. He was entranced, thinking of a time when docks were once harbors for actual ships that sailed seas instead of flying ones that sail the sky. He wondered if men had to work very hard in those ships, catching fish or buried treasure. Ayn smiled as he daydreamed, staring off into the serene, blue sky.

  “HA!” exploded out of Zin's mouth. “I found it!”

  Bounding up from hunching over his bag, Zin raced over to the dome-shaped office nearby where he had received the docking receipt. Ayn completely trusted his friend's ability to handle these types of things and continued sitting on his luggage as he watched the clouds roll by, still happily caught up in his wistful, dreamy state of mind.

  “Excuse me,” Zin said as he approached the man sitting in the office. The man was lanky and middle aged, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on his desk.

  “Excuse me, but I can't seem to find my ship,” explained Zin, “which I had docked here yesterday... around late afternoon.”

  Zin took out the receipt, which was a rectangular, opaque card with a long amount of Ohrian numbers listed on it. He then handed it to the man in the office.

  The man sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Yeah, um,” he said with a nasal voice, “I remember the ship being docked here yesterday. It should be there... in the East section.”

  “I've already looked there!” Zin shouted. “I've looked in all the sections!”

  “No need to get excited, kid,” the man in the office replied, a little defensively. “I'm sure your ship can be tracked. What is your tracking number?”

  Zin cocked his head, confused. “What tracking number?”

  The man in the office gave a slightly frustrated sigh and then explained, “Every ship comes with a security alarm that has a tracking device. If you have the number, you can enter it into your security stick. Do you have the stick with you?”

  At this point, Zin was becoming so agitated and perplexed that Ayn thought he might fall over in a dizzy fit of rage. Coming to his rescue, Ayn walked up to the man in the office and said, “We don't have any security stick... I don't think. Our ship didn't come with one.”

  “I don't think that's possible,” said the lanky man. “As far as I know, all ships these days come standard with them.”

  Zin looked at Ayn with a face that begged for silence. Ayn decided it might be best to let Zin handle the situation, so he sat back down on his suitcase.

  “Look,” said Zin, trying to keep calm, “my father didn't install a security device, so I don't have a tracking number... stick... thing!”

  “Well, that wasn't very wise,” said the man.

  Zin's face turned a shade of reddish purple, his gills becoming so inflamed Ayn worried his friend might dehydrate from his own anger. Ohrians were known to require a lot of liquid, especially if they became agitated or excited. Ayn wondered if Zin was going to need a nice, warm bath after talking to this man.

  “I don't have time to explain things to you!” blu
rted Zin. “I just want you to find my ship! Is that understood?!”

  There was an uncomfortably quiet pause as the man in the office looked taken aback by Zin's outburst. He then re-checked the receipt’s number on his data-desk, swirling his fingers on the touch screen in a rapid motion. “Nope, it's no good,” he said dryly. “My program isn't detecting the ship on the motion sensor whatsoever. I'm sorry, young sir, but it looks like someone may have stolen your vessel. I can run a scan, if you'd like, to see if the motion sensor detected movement in that area between the time you docked and now, but that's all I can do.”

  Zin looked as if he was about to cry, but nodded and stoically said, “Yes... I would appreciate that.” Turning around to face Ayn, Zin took a deep breath and sighed. “I'm so sorry, Ayn. I know how much you wanted to go to Kri.”

  Ayn shrugged, nonchalantly. He then patted Zin's shoulder with a comforting smile. “That's alright, we can take another ship. They must have ships to buy or rent around here somewhere. It's not really such a big problem, Zin. No need to get so upset.”

  “I don't think you understand, Ayn. We can't afford to get another one. All my money was kept inside a safe on my ship. All we have left now is what we received when we sold your medallion, well, minus the amount it cost for the hotel and food.”

  Ayn stared at Zin, trance-like and yet focused. He heard Zin’s words, but wasn't processing what Zin was telling him.

  “Sir?” said the man in the office.

  Zin turned around and faced him. “Yes?” Zin replied.

  “It appears there was indeed motion in that area where your ship was docked late last night. Would you like to make a report to the authorities? I could even save the footage to a virtu-pod as evidence for their inspection.”

  “No,” Zin said abruptly, “I... don't wish to contact the authorities.”

  The man in the office nodded with a knowing look on his face. “I fully understand,” he replied.

  “Is this all you can do for me?” asked Zin with a pleading expression. “Can't you at least compensate us by refunding the money it cost us to park here?”

  The man sighed. “Yeah, alright... but it's not really allowed by my supervisor being that we aren't actually liable for theft.”

  “I'd appreciate it,” said Zin.

  As the man gave Zin the refund, the realization of what was happening finally dawned on Ayn. He got up and walked over to where Zin stood, ready to scold him for not having the sense to install a security device on his ship. Even if it was his father's ship, Ayn figured Zin could have installed one anyway. The whole situation greatly annoyed him.

  “Thank you,” Zin said to the man in the office and then turned to face Ayn. “Well, it's not nearly enough for a new ship, but it's enough to stay at least a week more at the hotel. Then maybe Luc will pay me soon for performing at his club, and we could buy a decent ship, though it most likely won't be half as prime as mine was.”

  Ayn's face was stern and stony. After a few moments, he slowly shook his head at Zin. “No,” Ayn firmly stated, “we are NOT staying here any longer! Don't you understand? I HAVE to get to Kri! I have to stop King Atlar from waging war on Deius and putting thousands of lives in danger! They all think I'm dead, Zin. I have to tell them I'm alive and that war is never an answer. It's my duty as The Bodanya! Don't you understand that?!”

  Zin could feel the desperate, emotional flooding of pain rising inside of Ayn, and it made him want to cry along with his soul-friend. What worried him more, however, was how loudly Ayn had declared his own identity. Zin quickly looked around the dock nearby to make sure no one had heard Ayn’s words.

  “Look, Ayn,” said Zin, “I understand your concern, but…”

  “What about a public transport?” Ayn curtly interrupted. “There must be some kind of ship the common people use to get on and off of this Gods-forsaken planet!”

  Zin looked at Ayn who was now fully agitated, seeming close to despair. Zin wanted to soothe his beloved friend somehow, but didn't know what to do. Sighing, Zin tenderly embraced Ayn. “I'm so sorry,” he whispered. “All of this is my fault... and I wish I could make things right somehow. If I could, I'd go back in time and change everything bad that happened. I wouldn't even have brought you here with me. I don't know what I was thinking. I just... wanted you to be safe, and I guess I selfishly wanted you with me. I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, but now I know I was wrong. Please try to forgive me. I really do love you, Ayn. I swear it.”

  The two young men held each other and shed reluctant tears. Time seemed to pass by them for a moment as the sky changed from pale blue to pale gray.

  “It's going to rain,” said Ayn softly.

  “I know,” replied Zin.

  Slowly pulling away from each other, they wiped their faces and sniffed, adjusting to the reality of their situation. “We should go back to Luceon's club,” said Zin as he nodded. “I was already scheduled to play there tonight, so I might as well do that. Then maybe he can pay me in advance for any future shows I play this week. It might be enough for a public transport, like you suggested. That was a good idea, Ayn. We should find out what our options are, and then you can fly to Kri as soon as possible.”

  Ayn cocked his head and asked, “What do you mean? Aren't you going to fly there with me?”

  Zin rubbed his forehead with his long, graceful musician's fingers. “Ayn...” he said in a sigh, “I'm not going to lie to you. I hate Ohr. I always have. I have no intention of going back.”

  “I'm not asking you to go back to Ohr!” snapped Ayn. “Why should that matter when it comes to flying with me to Kri?”

  Zin once again worried they were speaking much too loudly. He then gently pulled Ayn aside hoping to keep their voices away from prying ears.

  “Because, Ayn,” whispered Zin, “my father will be notified of my presence the minute I set foot on Kri, especially if we are to seek an audience with Atlar at his palace. And the truth is, I'd rather die than go back to my previous life on Ohr. I was miserable, Ayn. I was trapped in a sterile life of endless repression and pretense. Don't you understand? It nearly destroyed my soul.”

  Ayn nodded, sadly. “I do understand,” he replied, “but you should still come with me. Once we're on Kri, you can seek asylum with Atlar and stand up to your father, if you must. I don't think I can do all this without you, Zin. It's your destiny to help me... I think.”

  Zin shook his head and smiled. He couldn't help but be touched by his soul-friend's honest, albeit demanding plea for help.

  “Alright, I'll come with you to Kri,” said Zin, “but once you're there safely, I'm heading right back here to Xen. I'm a musician in my core, and this is the only place I can be one without being judged or caged. If my father had his way, I'd be in training right now to become a cold king and strict scientist like he is. I won't become a puppet to my father, Ayn, I just won't.”

  Ayn nodded in understanding. “Just go with me to Kri,” Ayn replied, “and then you can come back here. Please, Zin, I need your help.”

  They hugged as rain fell lightly from the sky. “We'll make it there, Ayn,” said Zin, swallowing his tears. “Trust me.”

  Ayn smiled, assured and calmed by Zin's words. “Yes, we will!” he happily replied, returning to his child-like self. “Now, let us go to Luc's bar,” Ayn added. “I'm hungry anyway, and I was rather looking forward to hearing you play again.”

  Ayn then picked up his suitcase and stood facing Zin with an energized glow about his entire being. Zin smiled at him in return.

  They walked along the street, heading for Luc's bar. From the corner of his eye, Ayn saw that Axis was grinning at him while laying under a parked vehicle on the street. The cat-bird then licked his paws and yawned. Ayn wondered if he had been there the entire time.

  “Zin?” asked Ayn.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think maybe I've gone a little crazy?”

  “What?” said Zin, perplexed. “Why would you ask m
e that?”

  “Well, it's just that I... I think I may be seeing things that aren't there.”

  Zin snickered a little and said, “Isn't that your job? I had heard that The Bodanya is supposed to have visions so he will understand the universe, curing the ills of the world through meditation... and all that nonsense.”

  Ayn frowned and muttered, “It's not all nonsense.”

  Zin sighed and folded his arms as he walked. “Sorry,” he replied. “But to answer your question, no, I don't think you've gone crazy. I just think you're upset. You've lost so much in these past few days, and despite what some may believe, you're mortal. Anyone would be feeling a little insane if they went through what you've been through.”

  Ayn hoped Zin was right and that his visions of Axis would eventually cease. If not, he was sure he'd have to seek help from The Un. It's not that he minded Axis' company – he quite liked it actually – but the idea of The Great Bodanya talking to a cat-bird whom no one else could see wasn’t something Ayn wanted anyone knowing about. Visions were one thing, but delusions were another, and Ayn wasn't altogether sure which category Axis belonged.

  As it lightly rained, Zin and Ayn casually walked until they reached the Chord Station. Ayn felt good walking in the rain, feeling like it was a rebirth of some kind. He no longer felt as angry or anxious as he'd been after seeing that small glimpse of Pei on the news. He was aware that he needed to stop Atlar from declaring war, but he also remembered Meddhi-Lan's teachings: you cannot fight the flow of the river, but instead, you can move along with the current, thereby influencing its direction. Ayn felt certain he and Zin would reach their destination, and at the precise time they were supposed to reach it. The Gods themselves would have it no other way.

  The ride on The Chord seemed more enjoyable to Ayn than he had experienced the day before. He guessed it was because he felt a little less shaken and exhausted. Passing by the wondrous sights, he marveled again at the old, abandoned Hithra Temple and found himself daydreaming about the ancient Dei priests who first explored this exotic outpost planet. Were they much different from the modern priests of Deius? When had they first discovered Xen? So many questions swirled in Ayn's ever curious mind.

 

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