Illusional Reality

by Karina Kantas

  Omad stretched and rubbed the back of his neck as he pondered over his revised speech. Would it be too much for her to take in? He nodded his head, feeling happy with his decision to inform her of her true identity. Telling her about the prophecy could wait. He didn't relish that task.

  Omad looked around the gold leaf covered throne room. Soon she would take her rightful place among her people and they would once again have a ruler, removing the burden from the Tsinian council. He clenched his trembling, clammy hands. He had been preparing for this moment since being appointed head, long ago.

  ***

  His election had been a cause for celebration, the start of planned preparations to bring their queen home.

  The council comprised of twelve elected Tsinians, those held in the highest regard. The head of the council was seated centrally in a semicircle of chairs, his seat raised so there could be no doubt of who was in charge. Council business was held in the Escos on the border of their land. Meetings were not open, and only by appointment could citizens address the council.

  Omad sighed, remembering the feast held in his honour, the one time he had felt truly scared. The nomination was in recognition, yet to be chosen for a task with repercussions that could destroy Tsinia's peaceful existence was something he wished hadn't been entrusted to him.

  There was much excitement and discussion about how Thya would become the saviour of them all, how her return would cause the warlord's demise.

  The Tsinians lived by the words of the Oracle, and although there was no indication of how Thya would save Tsinia from Darthorn's domination, the people felt as though their troubles were over. They were so confident that for the first time in the history of their great land an Oracle was ignored.

  Omad shivered as he recalled Athron confronting the council with the latest reading. Were they wrong to ignore the warning?

  The Oracles were written upon ancient scrolls. It was a riddle that only a Zenith could read, for it was they who wrote them. The generations of Zeniths were male; born with the gift of Sight.

  Omad remembered being awoken from his sleep by a very anxious Athron. He demanded the council assemble at once, and as a valued Tsinian, Omad took the urgency seriously.

  “I would not have removed you from your slumber if I did not consider this to be of consequence,” Athron announced when the council had convened.

  “Continue,” Omad said.

  “The Oracle proclaims a warning.”

  Omad, suddenly wide-awake, frowned. “Good Athron, decipher.”

  Athron nodded and unrolled the scroll. “Not all will come to pass and though the saviour will return, she will not be delivered.”

  The council whispered among themselves.

  “Rephrase,” Omad said.

  “Our lady will return. Regardless, she will not be whom you expect. The matrimony will not be entered upon. There is no alliance. For tis written so it will be.”

  “Nonsense,” Tasarc retorted. “Tis ludicrous. The alliance is not established. All that is required is our lady's sign.”

  “And what if she does not sign?” Athron said.

  Omad rose from his seat. There was silence. “I sympathise with your anxiety, Athron. We all are concerned with our future. However, as our good friend Tasarc remarked, the alliance will precede. As for our lady not receiving us, tis her duty as princess of Tsinia to aid her kinsmen. I am confident that once she returns, all will be well. Do not distress.” Omad then reseated.

  Athron continued, “I pray you are accurate. The fact is the Oracles have never been unjust. Do not shut your eyes to the truth.”

  Athron had spoken out of turn and Omad had to show strength in front of his peers. He stood abruptly from his seat. “Tis proper you have brought this to our attention. You will retire,” he ordered.

  Only Athron did not turn to leave. “You sight only what you want. Free your eyes!”

  “Silence,” Omad growled.

  The council gasped with dismay, for they had never before heard Omad raise his voice.

  “Dare you judge me? I will not justify myself to you.” He then lowered his voice. “Athron, I hold you in the highest esteem. Be assured we will review the Oracle and rule on the correct outcome. Depart—now.”

  Athron left, yet he was not satisfied. He spoke his thoughts aloud, “By the name of Zenith, I am compelled for them to listen. It will be taken earnestly.”

  Deciding on his next action, he called upon Nimas, the wise one. If anyone had a hold over the council, it was Nimas.

  Nimas listened intently as Athron read him the Oracle.

  “And Omad expressed?” Nimas quizzed.

  “Omad declared the council would review the issue, only I judge they do not take the Oracle earnestly.”

  “Are you confident of this, Athron?”

  “I am, Nimas. I am hoping you could converse with Omad, press him on the urgency. It will be a grave error if the Oracle is ignored.”

  “Athron, I have taken heed. Nonetheless, I concur with Omad. The contract between our two nations is almost complete. I am certain you misread the interpretation.”

  “Will not one heed me?” Athron shouted in dismay. “There will not be an alliance. Tis not the means. Since when has an Oracle been false?”

  Nimas sighed. “Omad is the appointed one. He alone has planned for adjustments. If, as you state, it does not come to pass, I am certain Omad can resolve the issue. Athron, I am weary. I will rest, go you to the door.”

  Nimas left the agitated Athron alone.

  It was the first time the Oracles had been ignored and Athron felt as though he had shamed the name of Zenith. Perhaps he had not explained the meaning correctly.

  Athron tried to reason with Omad repeatedly, only to no avail. The council had made up their mind to disregard the Oracle. They concurred that Athron, for the first time, had made an error in his interpretation.

  ***

  Now, as Omad waited for his princess' arrival, he regretted treating Athron disrespectfully. Should he have taken heed? Only it did not make sense. If the Tsinians' alliance with the Senxs did not result in peace, what was Thya's calling?

  ***

  The Senxs had been enemies with the Tsinians for centuries. There was once peace between the two lands, only it was so far back they wondered if it had ever happened. The current warlord, Darthorn, was the worst Senx to ever rule the land. Controlling his kinsmen with dark magic, his strength and power seemed to grow with every moon.

  The Tsinians wouldn't be able to resist much longer. Finding it harder to keep control of their city, their last hope was the return of their long lost princess.

  Athron's late father, Ganard, was the Zenith who received the vision. It told that she would return to her land and save Tsinia from its impending doom. The Oracle never specified how she was to liberate Tsinia, and so the council took it upon themselves to come up with a solution. They decided she would make an alliance with the Senx and then patted themselves on the back for coming up with such an easy solution.

  Darthorn readily agreed, on the understanding that there would be a union between Kovon, his son, and Thya, the heir of Tsinia, to cement the alliance.

  ***

  But what if Athron was just? What if she did not sign the treaty? Could there be another way from which Thya could deliver them? Omad's thoughts were interrupted when Zarc entered the Escos.

  “It has begun,” Zarc said excitedly.

  Omad hurried to the entrance of the portal.

  He hoped he was correct in sending Salco. It was a simple enough task. All Salco had to do was contact and persuade her to return with him. How hard could that be? As he waited, perspiration trickled down his face.

  The bright light of the orb appeared. Omad glanced around, ensuring no one else was close by. His heart beat rapidly; he'd never felt so nervous. A shadow appeared through the light, but he could only make out one shape. Where was she? Had he failed in his mission? Then, through the mist, Salco ap
peared—carrying the seemingly lifeless body of their princess.

  Omad gasped. “What has occurred?”

  “It was not in my control.”

  “This cannot be. How could you permit this to transpire?”

  Omad walked to Salco, every step heavy. He felt drained, as if there was no hope left.

  “She has breath,” Salco told him.

  Those three glorious words brought Omad back. “Then hope remains. Valcan holds an understanding of what can be done.”

  Hastily, they left for the Tora, Valcan's dwelling.

  “Inform me on what occurred. Declare all,” Omad commanded as they hurried.

  “Tis not my failing, Omad, I swear. There were Senxs upon Earth, ahead of my arrival. They possessed weapons. I had naught to defend us, and I was not informed of their coming. I was not aware of a threat.”

  “I appreciate this, Salco. I am concerned though. How did the Senxs discover our plans? Is there an informer among us? No… no, there cannot be.” He paused. “You are not to converse on this. Understood?”

  “Tis, Omad, and I pray to the Changlins that she will survive. I would bestow my existence if it would benefit the princess.”

  Omad deemed it wrong to comfort Salco. He had failed in his mission, whatever the reason. Nonetheless, he would have to answer for Salco's mistake.

  He took the princess from Salco's arms. “Depart at once to the council, relate to them on what has occurred and, Salco… bestow hope upon them.”

  “It will be done.”

  Valcan was just sitting down to eat when Omad burst through the door. For a moment, he was stunned by the sudden appearance of his friend, more so when he saw the pale human in his arms. Valcan noted how tired and haggard Omad looked. He stood abruptly, rushing towards him, he took Thya and carried her through to his healing room.

  “Leave me,” Valcan ordered.

  Omad left, but not before giving instructions for Valcan to notify him if there was news.

  The only way he could help Thya was to pray to the Changlins. Pray that Valcan would find the strength to save her.

  Valcan healed with the use of his gift and needed solitude to concentrate. He did not allow anyone to observe him at work. He'd never seen damage to a human before, but Thya wasn't human, she was Bora. He didn't know if it was in his power to save her. Nonetheless, he closed his eyes, placed his hands over her womb and began the process of healing.

  Omad needed time to meditate and ask for guidance, and so headed for the Plecky.

  How could he have allowed this to happen?

  After entering, he knelt before the five stone monoliths known as the Changlins. They radiated a bright light from within. It pulsed like a heartbeat, and in a sense, that was what it was, the heart of Tsinia. Each sacred stone represented an element: Earth, Fire, Water, Air and Spirit, the essence of Tsinia's survival. It was said they contained power, and as long as the Tsinians possessed the Changlins they would continue to possess their very special gifts. In paying homage to the Changlins, they believed that in return, the Changlins would protect their land. They were treated as an icon, and though the Changlins never answered, the Tsinians never stopped praying.

  He stared at the stones as he knelt in silent prayer. Was his eyesight playing a trick on him? It seemed the light within the stones was softening, fading even. Omad could not believe he was witnessing the worst of omens for Tsinia. It filled him with terror to think the blessed light could extinguish before his eyes.

  He sat stunned and puzzled as to why. What was making the light fade? Could it be related to Thya's arrival? To her lack of wellbeing? The only conclusion he could come up with was that her soul was somehow connected.

  If that were possible, then she was indeed an exceptional Tsinian. Alas, it also meant that Thya's internal power was fading. Omad squeezed his eyes shut, begging the Changlins to save her. He opened his eyes and gazed intently at the stones, hoping that one word, uttered from his heart, would strengthen the light. He also prayed that Valcan would have the power to save her. Was his gift enough?

  Hearing footsteps heading towards him, he turned and stood to meet Salco.

  After learning of Omad's theory, Salco fell to his knees, paled at the thought.

  Surely, Darthorn could not win so easily. Omad hoped not though it seemed likely their princess would die.

  ***

  Valcan had done what he could, using all his knowledge and skill. In fact, he had worked on Thya for such a long time, he felt completely drained of energy. His legs felt shaky and he leaned against the stone wall to keep from falling. If he were to help her anymore, he would have to get his own strength back. He required food, and so left the room in search of something to eat.

  ***

  Darthorn's messengers had returned from Earth and were telling their master about the strange land and what had occurred.

  “You are confident that she was damaged, Faldor?”

  “Tis assured, master. How badly could not be sighted. Pacer comprehends those primitive weapons better than I.”

  “And you state the humans were also targeting, Thya?” Darthorn inquired.

  “Tis so, master. Though I sighted not weapons, they are hostile people.”

  “Interesting,” remarked Darthorn.

  Kovon entered. He walked straight up to the warlord, knelt on one knee and kissed Darthorn's hand. “I retain information from Jakar, Father. Thya has entered Tsinia though is gravely hurt. Tis doubtful she will survive. Jakar informs me that Valcan, their healer, is with her and has been for some duration.”

  Darthorn turned to his son. “This is cheering to discover. So the mission was a success. Absent of Thya, I will persist in my plan to rule Tsinia. Once I possess the power of the Changlins naught will prevent me.”

  Darthorn addressed his messengers. “You have done well and will be rewarded, depart.”

  Faldor and Pacer turned to leave.

  “Remain,” Kovon called out. “Is she—is she everything they express?” he asked.

  “I had sight for only a brief instant,” Pacer answered. “She is ordinary, like the entire human race. I did not note any uniqueness.”

  Kovon dismissed them with a wave of this hand. Father and son were finally alone.

  Darthorn looked questionably at Kovon. “You do not exhibit delight with this information. Why so?”

  “I have perceived much of this Thya,” he spat the word out, “tis a pity not to see her. Does she appear as I imagine?”

  “Tis possible you will still encounter her—if she survives.”

  “Let us hope she does not. Father, I will withdraw, for I am eager to receive further information from Jakar.” He bowed before departing.

  Kovon secretly hoped she would live. He was keen to meet Thya and looked forward to their union, especially their first night.

  ***

  Kovon was the only son of Darthorn. He never interfered with his father's battles, preferring to remain in the background. Even so, he observed his father's plans with interest.

  Kovon never delved into the dark side, he preferred to deal with problems his own way. He knew of his father's association with the Darkeye and although Darthorn had tried numerous times to induce Kovon to his ways, he understood that when the time came for Kovon to rule Senx, he would do so without the aid of the Darkeye. Even though Darthorn did not agree with this, he accepted his son's decision.

  Kovon was eager to learn the politics involved with war. Knowing that one day Senx would become his, and if by then they had conquered Tsinia, it would make him one of the most powerful warlords of all time. He agreed to the alliance between the two great lands and heard much about Thya from their spy, Jakar. He especially looked forward to the other half of his father's plan. That on their first night together he would remove the last obstacle from Darthorn's domination, and kill Thya himself.

  Why should the Senxs agree to an alliance? What was in it for them? They needed to get rid of Thya before they
could control Tsinia and the best way to do that was to get her on their territory. Only, why was he thinking of the matrimony when it looked doubtful there would be one. Jakar had told Kovon about the Oracle predicting there would be no alliance. Now it looked as if she would die, thanks to his father's plan to have her killed before she learnt of her gifts or even the existence of Tsinia. Pity, he'd looked forward to making her beg for mercy. There was still a chance she would survive. Should that happen, he wanted to be prepared.

  Kovon too had a gift, one that he used only when it suited him. Not even his father knew of his talents. He discovered his power at an early age and taught himself. It worked better if they didn't suspect anything.

  He could have anything he wanted—when he wanted.

  ***

  Darthorn looked out of his window, the size of which covered one side of the great chamber. Tsinia looked so vulnerable from up there.

  The Senxs lived on top of a huge, dark mountain in dome-shaped dwellings coloured grey and black. Situated in the middle of them was Darthorn's magnificent abode. His dome was three times the size of the others and covered with gold. It was an incredible sight to behold.

  Senx could not be seen from Tsinia, only the monstrous, black mountain that it sat upon. However, from Darthorn's chamber, the whole of Tsinia could be viewed. It looked small and meek, easy to destroy, which unfortunately wasn't true, as he had found out numerous times.

  Firstly, the Oracles prophesied most of his plans, so when an attack did come, his enemies were ready. With the amount of Tsinians possessing special gifts, it had so far been enough to prevent him from taking Tsinia, and together with the power of the Changlins, he'd never gotten close.

  He stood in thought, dwelling on the time he called on the Dark Force and sent a deadly mist upon them, one that should have wiped them out.

  He had been shown the delicious effects. Starting with a shortness of breath, the victim would choke. Simultaneously, their eyes and nose would bleed and after vomiting blood, they would eventually succumb to suffocation. Oh, how he wanted to witness the effects, but as always, the Tsinians were prepared. Jakar had related to him how only one Tsinian had put an end to the poisonous cloud.