Radiant

by Ela Lourenco

  “I am as wise as I am long lived, but you got me there, kiddo,” Z shrugged. “I’m still trying to figure when the transference happened. I don’t know how the ritual could have taken place without me being awake.”

  “Transference?”

  “Yeah, like I told you before, I can only be passed to the next in line in two ways. One, the old wielder dies, in which case I would automatically be woken to seek out the next one. Or two, I would be bestowed by my previous bond to the next chosen, that would be you. But in either case, my participation would be necessary. There is a ritual involved in the passing on of the Dyx amulet. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but I have to take part in it too. So as you can see, I’m as stumped as you are.”

  “What do we do now then?” Sena said softly, more to herself than to Z.

  “What we are fated to. We train you up.” Z perked up. “This is going to be so much fun! Between your guide and me, we will have you ready to take on the world in no time!”

  Sena burst out laughing at the comical expression on Z’s face.

  “Laugh all you like while you can,” Z warned. “But I’ve seen many Zamani trainings before. Trust me, you won’t be laughing long!”

  ***

  Sena flinched as she picked herself off the hard ground for what seemed like the millionth time. Z had not been exaggerating. Sya had summoned her. Apparently, Z was also part communicator, and they had just begun their first ever session. Sena had barely had time to appreciate the amber beauty of the Hyios before Sya had launched into sensei mode. How could such a sweet and serene looking person turn into such a tyrant? Sya had been bombarding her with spells and physical attacks relentlessly since she got there. There wasn’t a spot on Sena’s body that didn’t ache.

  “Come on, Sena, you can do this!” Sya shouted in encouragement. “Remember what I told you, use your instinctive magick to block my attacks!”

  Sena exhaled and straightened her back. She could do this. Sya released her golden hued magick full force towards her. Sena had tried creating a shield, dodging the hit. Nothing had worked. She remembered something her mom had said to her once. Magic was all about tapping into the essence of your being, truly connecting with yourself. She closed her eyes and evened her breathing.

  “Um, not to tell you what to do or anything, but girl what are you thinking?!” Z exploded in her mind. “Open your damn eyes!”

  Sena ignored her and turned her focus inwards. She could feel every tingle of magick in her body, they were all a part of her. Turning her focus back outwards, she sent forth her own magick to meet the onslaught of Sya’s. There was a loud static-like crackle as the two magick collided into one another—Sya’s gold versus Sena’s silver. A brilliant flash of light erupted into tiny glimmering particles.

  “You did it!” Sya whooped.

  “She did?” Z asked opening her eye. “You go, girl, I knew you could do it!”

  Sena grinned, the aches in her body forgotten.

  “That’s enough sparring for today,” Sya smiled, motioning for her student to sit next to her. “Why don’t we focus on filling in the gaps of your learning for a while?”

  Sena waited impatiently for her mentor to begin. She had so many questions, so many things she did not know.

  “I want to tell you about the origins of Zaman today,” Sya began. “It is important to know its history as well as that of Xanos since you are a child of both worlds.” She gazed into the distance. “Long ago, the gods decided to create man. They were eternal and had grown bored and lonely over the years and yearned for something more, a purpose of sorts. That is how the Hectians and the Sybeli came to be.”

  “Hectians were made by Hecator and Sybeli by Sybela. I know that. But what about the Zamani?”

  “That is what I was getting to,” Sya smiled at her young charge’s enthusiasm. “The Zamani, unlike the Xanians, were not made by the gods. Well, not directly at least. Long before there was another realm called Zaman, a third race came into existence here on Xanos.”

  “The Zamani are from Xanos?!”

  Sya nodded. “Yes, but unlike the Hectians and the Sybeli, they were not created by the gods. Well, not directly at least. The Zamani were born of the planet itself, they are the true children of nature if you like.” She paused for a few moments to let Sena digest this new piece of information.

  “See! You’re not really an alien after all!” Z chirped merrily.

  Sena frowned. “But I don’t understand. If the Zamani were really from Xanos, why are they in another realm now? And how is it that no one knows about them? They can’t have just been wiped out of all the history books and people’s memories. How do you hide something as big as the existence of an entire race?”

  “That is where the story gets complicated,” Sya explained. “At first, the Hectians and Sybeli welcomed the Zamani with open arms. Why would they not? The Zamani were a peaceful and friendly people, and they did not seek to rule over Xanos nor to change the status quo. They were not interested in the pursuit of power, preferring rather to commune with nature and to train their young.” She sighed sadly. “But alas, the peace was not meant to last. The Zamani did not seek power, but they had it in abundance. Whether their bond with nature made them so powerful, or if it was just how they were created, no one truly knows.”

  “So what happened?”

  “What always happens amongst men,” Sya stated sadly. “A small group Hectians and Sybeli formed an alliance of sorts. They met in secret with the sole aim of readying themselves for the time when the Zamani would try to take over.”

  “But you said they had no interest in politics?”

  “And they didn’t,” Sya agreed. “However, this wasn’t enough to deter the group. As they spied on the Zamani, they grew more and more jealous of their power and strength. Something they believed should be theirs by right. After all, were they not the true children of the gods, Hecator and Sybela?” She shook her head, sorrow shone in her eyes. “As their jealousy grew, so did their hatred. They began to incite other ordinary Xanians against the Zamani. They made up accounts of their violence and deception. The situation grew more tense until one day, a young Zamani child was killed while walking by himself in the forest.”

  Sena paled. “Gods!” she whispered. “How could anyone harm a child?”

  “Hatred and jealousy lead to fear. Some older boys had spotted him alone and begun taunting him, but it all got out of hand.”

  “What happened next?”

  Sya looked into the distance, a lone tear flowing down her cheek as she remembered. “The Zamani decided that enough was enough. The others had gone too far and taken the most precious thing in their belief. The life of a child.”

  Sena nodded emphatically. There was no excuse, no possible justification for what they had done.

  “Now you have to understand that although the Zamani are a peaceful people, they are at heart a warrior tribe, magically powerful and physically stronger than the other Xanians. Well, they were preparing to defend their young when the secret faction I mentioned earlier made a breakthrough. Their scientists had found a spell, which could make Xanos” atmosphere toxic for the Zamani.”

  “Yeah,” Z interrupted. “If not for the intervention of the gods, all the Zamani would have died.”

  “But that’s genocide!” Sena couldn’t hide her indignation. “How could they?”

  “Well, the good news is that they did not succeed,” Sya reassured her young charge. “The Gods joined together and created a different realm. One better suited for the Zamani and transported them there.”

  “Why should the innocent have to leave their home, while the wrongdoers go unpunished?” Sena exclaimed fiercely.

  “Ah, but they weren’t unpunished, quite the opposite, in fact. It was around that time that the terrible disease Phylgia first appeared. It spread like wild fire across the
planet, halving the population.”

  “Did the gods—”

  “No, they would not do such a thing. Many innocents were lost to that awful plague. No one quite knows what caused it. There have been theories though that it was the removal of the Zamani that triggered it, that the planet mourned their absence. Another possibility is that when poisoning the atmosphere against the Zamani, those very men created the disease themselves. Who knows?”

  “So how is it that no one remembers the Zamani?” Sena asked.

  “Oh, there are those that remember. The descendants of the secret faction, they have not forgotten.”

  “They still exist?”

  “Oh, very much so. And in greater numbers than ever before. They live in fear that the Zamani will one day come back and get their revenge. Even after all this time, they cannot let go of their fear and hatred.”

  “What kind of magick do the Zamani have? What is it that scares the others so much about them?” Sena asked.

  “The Zamani are shamanic, they call themselves shifters,” Sya explained. “They have the ability to shift into the animal that has chosen them.”

  Sena gaped, her mouth hanging wide open. Would she be able to turn into an animal too? That would be somewhat hard to hide from her mom.

  “They cannot shift into just any animal though,” Sya clarified. “Only into the one which chooses them in their spirit walk.” Seeing Sena’s confusion, she elaborated further. “Each Zamani will undergo a rite of passage when they turn sixteen. During this test, for lack of a better word, he or she will be given a spirit animal based on the choices they make during the ritual. You do not choose the animal, it chooses you.”

  “So they can only turn into that one animal?”

  Sya nodded.

  “Um,” Sena began hesitantly. “I turn sixteen in a couple of days.”

  “I am well aware of that,” Sya beamed brightly. “And I have the privilege of guiding you through your spirit walk. Once you have completed it, not only will you have your animal spirit inside of you, but you will have attained the first level of ascension.”

  Sena stood up and walked to the stream nearby, cold sweat beading on her brow. It was so much to take in. Part of her wondered if she was dreaming it all up and would awaken to find that it was all in her imagination.

  “No such luck, I’m afraid,” Z piped up. “I can assure you that everything she’s told you is true.”

  “You can read my mind?” Sena gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You never asked,” retorted the Dyx. “Besides, if I can talk into your mind, how did you figure I could hear it in return? Makes sense to me.”

  Flushing bright red, Sena dropped her head into her hands.

  “No need to have a spaz over it,” Z said calmly. “It’s not like you had any kinky thoughts or anything.”

  “Oh, gods,” Sena groaned. Would she never be able to think in private again?

  “You can block me out, you know, you just have to work on your mental shields. Our bond is stronger if you don’t, but you should learn anyway, so when someone tries to force their way into your thoughts, you can keep them out.”

  “Who is going to want to read my mind?”

  Z blinked at her and shrugged. “You never know. Better to be prepared and all that.”

  “I think I have given you enough to think about for now,” Sya said as she joined them. “The Dyx will know when you are to come back here for your spirit walk.”

  “But I don’t know how to do a spirit walk. I only just heard about one today!” Sena exclaimed.

  “Don’t worry,” Sya patted her reassuringly. “It will be fine. I will be with you to help you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “My Lord,” the Dohar bowed as Ishkan appeared in his chambers in his usual dark mist. “I did not think to see you so soon.”

  Ishkan barely spared him a glance, as he arrogantly strode across the room to sit in what was the Dohar’s chair. “I do not give accounts of my actions or decisions to mere mortals,” he stated, a hint of anger lacing his voice.

  “Of course not, my Lord. As always, I am delighted to see you. I just wondered if you needed me to do something.”

  “As a matter of fact, there is something,” Ishkan leaned forward. “I need to feed.” A sly smile lit his face, as the other man paled suddenly.

  “My Lord, not enough time has passed since the last time. It will be difficult to explain—”

  “I need more power, and to get more power I need to feed,” Ishkan said icily. He arched a brow and stared darkly at the man practically cowering before him. “You do not wish to do as I ask? Tell me, oh, great Dohar, where would you be without me? How long would you continue to lead your faction without my power behind you?” He drew lazy circles in the air, black tendrils of magic sparking from his fingers. “Do you believe it is your own superior powers that keep you in your position?”

  “No, my Lord.” the Dohar trailed off looking down at the ground. He did not dare to meet the God’s eyes, lest the latter see the anger mixed in with the humiliation there. Ishkan was his best bet for remaining in charge. He knew it well. There were many vying to usurp his place, but it was becoming ever harder to deal with the arrogant God. He inhaled deeply, steadying his nerves. Patience—that was what he needed. He could not stumble now, not after all the sacrifices he had had to make, all the people he had served up to the God. He could not let it all have been for nothing. He would bide his time. Once he found the prophecy, he would need Ishkan no longer. “Very well, my Lord,” he answered. “I will make the preparations.”

  Ishkan leaned back in the Dohar’s chair and grinned to himself, as he waited for his lackey to fulfil his bidding. He smirked. Putting the mighty Dohar in his place was always a great source of amusement for him. The mortal was so full of pride, so sure his cause was righteous. Hah! Ishkan snorted. He was no different to all the other Xanians, each convinced of their importance in the scheme of things. How Hecator and Sybela continued to dote on these insignificant and unworthy creatures, he did not know. They were like bugs, ever present, and irritating with no true purpose. He merely tolerated them because they were crucial to his plan. Being a God meant he was bound by the laws of non-interference. He could not actively make the Xanians do as he commanded, but he could persuade one of their own, like the Dohar, to do it for him.

  “My Lord,” the Dohar said as he re-entered the chamber followed by three others. Their eyes were glazed over with the spell their leader would have used on them to ensure compliance.

  “Bring them here,” Ishkan motioned to the alcove carved into the rock next to him. “I need to inspect them.”

  “I am sure you will find them to your liking,” the Dohar said between gritted teeth, trying not to look at the three young Sahat members he had spelled and led to their doom. Normally, he would have had Ari round up some stragglers from the outskirts of the city, people of no importance to society, and who no one would miss. But Ari was away on a mission, and there had been no time to find anyone else.

  Ishkan rose, his six foot five frame looming over the three adolescents who had barely reached adulthood. “Not too bad,” he grinned. “Although three? So few?” His servant shrugged. “Very well,” Ishkan turned towards the statue-like young men.

  The Dohar turned his head away slightly, as a black light shot out of the God’s hands and snaked its way to the young ones, coiling around their bodies before finally plunging inside their mouths. Repressing the urge to gag, he watched helplessly as the bright light of their essences began to rise up and out of their bodies, flowing backwards towards Ishkan. The darkness of the God’s magick seemed to only emphasise all the more the light purity of their essences, as he absorbed them into himself seeming to grow in stature and power more with each mouthful.

  After what seemed an eternity, the God was finally do
ne. He glowed with renewed vigour, while the young men stood, slumped, their faces drained of all colour, their bodies just empty shells.

  “No need to look so glum,” Ishkan said dismissively. “It is not as though they are dead.”

  No, they were not dead. Although it would have been a mercy for them and their families had they been so. Drained of their essence, their magicks, there was nothing left but a vacant body and mind. These young men would never lead a normal life, never get married, and never have children. Their families would watch them merely exist, living out a robotic existence without feeling and colour. The Dohar turned to the God, resolved to salvage something out of the situation. “My Lord, if I may ask a favour of you?”

  Temporarily satisfied and in a good mood, Ishkan gestured for him to continue.

  “One of my men managed to get this off of the oracle,” he held up the blue crystal. “We have not been able to activate it though.”

  Curious, Ishkan took the object, holding it up to the light to examine it carefully. So, that witch Lyli was in play once more. He scowled at the thought of the wily ancient. Ungrateful wench! He himself had helped the other Gods to create her. She would not even exist but for their benevolence, and yet, what did she do? Lied and cheated!

  Lyli had assured them that she did remember the powerful vision she had seen. She had lied so convincingly that despite their doubt, the others had accepted her word and let the matter drop. But Ishkan had seen right through her. He knew she was hiding something—something important. He had been looking for her for centuries, but the sly witch knew how to hide and used the very powers the Gods themselves had bestowed on her to disguise her tracks. Once or twice, he had managed to locate her, but he had never been in time, always arriving just as she became a pile of glowing ashes waiting to be reborn anew.

  Glaring at the crystal, he rubbed it between his hands. Nothing. He blasted it with his own magick, still nothing. The stone remained as cold and lifeless as ever. He threw it on the stone floor, but it did not even crack.