by Roman Blair
Beautiful music, unlike any I had heard before, resounded throughout, though I could not locate its source. It was a serene composition of delicate beats amid echoing bamboo flutes, and it intensified the enigmatic atmosphere. The ceiling, twenty five feet above us, likewise had a large flower carved into it. But where the one in our apartment resembled a rose, this one was a lotus. To my astonishment, the blossom was illuminated from within. It did not flicker with the light of candles and I realized it was electric, though nothing like the bright arc lamps of our larger cities. On the contrary, it saturated the chamber in a pleasant glow.
Etia Sarmia led us through the colorful trappings to a low rectangular dining table of acacia wood. Its legs were composed of dark stone and fashioned to resemble sitting sphinxes in pharaonic crowns. A thick rust-colored rug lay beneath, much of it weaved with shimmering metallic threads. Hefty round cushions lined the edges of the table in place of chairs. Our place settings were once again made up of square clay plates and weighty unadorned silverware. The advisor guided Rémy and me toward the two cushions just to the right of the table’s head and I spotted Father Daniel scowl at the invitation. We faced the windows and I admired the view as we prepared to dine.
King Eireas silently materialized out of the billowing silks a few moments later. “Good evening,” he acknowledged us in Latin and we returned the greeting. His elaborate throne garb had been replaced by a tunic identical to my own, though light blue in color. Only the beautiful silver laurel wreath atop his head distinguished his position. He gracefully took a seat at the head of the table and the rest of us likewise settled onto our respective cushions. Etia Sarmia took a seat opposite me, just to the left of the King, with Father Daniel beside her.
“I hope you had a pleasant afternoon,” the King added.
“Very pleasant, your highness,” Father Daniel announced. “We are humbled by your hospitality.”
King Eireas smiled. “I am delighted to have you as my guests. I had the palace prepare some of our favorite traditional recipes in your honor.”
As if on cue, servants appeared from within the great columns, one for each diner, and approached us with bowls of warm scented water. We followed our hosts’ example and dipped our hands into the soapy liquid. My serving girl handed me a small towel to dry off and I nodded my thanks. The servants then disappeared into the silks just as silently as they had come.
A young man came around with a large amphora of wine and proceeded to fill our metal goblets.
“Our first course is composed of toasted sesame bread, goat’s cheese, and melcolli,” Etia Sarmia divulged.
“Melcolli?” Father Daniel repeated.
“Honeyed barley cakes, a delicacy since ancient times,” the advisor confirmed.
“Though Capribo spices them a bit differently now,” the King added, “with cinnamon and saffron in the glaze.”
“I don't believe we've ever had them," I informed our hosts.
King Eireas smiled. “Our first cultural exchange. One of our great philosophers once said that ‘A road in different lands is paved with different stones. We must simply walk the path with an open mind.’ I look forward to many more such exchanges."
“We are honored,” the priest cooed.
“Speaking of different stones,” I said, “can you shed some light on the nature of your roads? The stones are unlike anything I have seen before.”
“Ah yes,” the King responded, “They are made to look like stone, but they are thelísta. Stone cracks quite regularly, but thelísta is much more durable.”
“Capribo used to have stone roads,” Etia Sarmia added, “but they were replaced with thelísta about two hundred years ago.”
“The cobblestones we walked upon were two hundred years old?” Father Daniel piped. “They looked entirely new.”
The King nodded. “But they are not actually stones. The road is rolled out into the earth like a rug, and only the top layer is fashioned to resemble separate pieces. Its upkeep is minimal, which has helped with other infrastructure projects.”
“That is astounding!” I exclaimed. “Just think what that would do for our cities,” I told the priest.
A few servants entered the room and began laying down platters of food. Father Daniel and I took the opportunity to fill our companions in on the conversation.
“It is amazing that an isolated land could have discovered so much on its own,” Ella commented.
“Yes, and now they have a monopoly on at least one lucrative export,” I mused, my mind already swimming with trade agreements and tariff forms.
Our hosts began to pile their plates with the hors d’oeuvres and we followed suit.
“But enough about us,” the King asserted. “I would like to know more about you. I am curious about what you do in your native land.” His dark green eyes looked around the table.
“We originate in many different lands,” I clarified.
“Truly?” his voice betrayed genuine surprise.
“Yes,” Father Daniel confirmed. “We come from different nations and young Mr. Laurence originates on the other side of the globe.”
Our hosts looked at each other.
“Incredible,” said the King. I could only surmise the multitude of questions they had for us. I suspected the world was a much smaller place the last time Capribo had contact with it.
“And what did you do there?” the King asked me.
“I went to school for many years in the study of history,” I declared. “I was on a research trip shortly before I met everyone here.”
The King smiled. “Then we are companions of the mind. I, too, study history,” he disclosed. "And what about your friend?"
“Rémy and his uncle work on the ship which carried us here, and the two ladies own a large estate which provides work for many farmers.” I could only guess at the latter, but it was a safe assumption and I did not want to put the women on the spot.
“And you, Father?” King Eireas inquired. “How did you come by such a unique title?”
“I am a messenger of god,” the priest boasted.
The King took a sip of wine and scrutinized him. “A messenger of god?” he echoed.
“Yes, your highness. I travel the world to spread the word of our lord.”
“I see,” King Eireas noted, putting his goblet down. “And what does that work look like?”
“I bring salvation to the poor and hungry of the world,” Father Daniel began, and he proudly recounted his latest mission in Africa while we ate.
Our second course arrived as the priest proudly expounded his travels. We were served platters of braised vegetables and shellfish alongside bowls of mushroom rice and farro salad. Every bite was incredibly delicious. After months of highly-spiced foods, the agreeable cuisine was most welcome. I could see that my companions keenly shared my sentiments.
"It was difficult work, but the work of god is seldom easy," Father Daniel concluded his recollection.
“What an interesting religion,” King Eireas remarked.
The priest stiffened. “How so?”
“It is so external,” the King explained. “You require so much in order to sustain it. It reminds me of the sacrifices which were demanded by the priests of ancient times,” he added with a chuckle.
“On the contrary,” Father Daniel blushed, “we are taught that all we need is our own faith.”
“Yours? Or everyone else’s?” the King asked.
“I don't follow.”
“From the tale you just told, it seems your religion is more focused on spreading than being practiced,” said King Eireas and he casually took another sip from his goblet.
“But are those not the same?” the priest countered. “I am a man educated in religion. Just as any teacher, it is my duty to spread truth to distant lands.”
The King smirked. “I’m afraid I cannot agree,” he said. “By design, your religion favors some people over others. I stand at the head of a nation. I am an upholder
of its laws. What you call truth, we call belief. And laws must never hold such beliefs.”
Etia Sarmia looked at me nervously and proceeded to pick at her plate.
“Can someone please tell us what is happening?” Lady Pearson murmured, sensing the change in atmosphere.
“It’s alright,” I replied hopefully. “Father Daniel was informing our hosts of his work as a missionary.”
“Which they don’t appreciate at all,” the priest added with annoyance.
“Well for heaven’s sake, change the subject!” Lady Pearson implored.
“Yes,” Travert agreed. “Can you ask them about getting help for our ship? They’ve been nothing but agreeable thus far and I’d like to inquire before our visit turns into an imposition.”
I nodded and turned back to our hosts. “As you said, your highness, cultural differences will no doubt continue to present themselves.” I smiled and took a sip of wine. “This food is absolutely delicious,” I added for good measure.
“I am so pleased you like it,” Etia Sarmia remarked with a big smile.
“My companions and I are curious,” I queried tactfully, “if you would be kind enough to assist in the repair of our ship so that we may resume our journey home.”
The King looked up at me and I met his deep gaze. He did not say anything for a while but simply studied my expression.
“It pains me greatly to be the bearer of bad news,” he began slowly, and I could feel my stomach tighten with every word, “but now that you are here, I’m afraid you can never again return to your world.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I beg your pardon?” Father Daniel barked. “Is this some kind of jest?”
The King met his glower with calm resolve. “It truly does pain me to say it, but it is no jest.”
“So what is this charade?” the priest raised his voice. “Are all your future prisoners entertained so lavishly?”
“You are not prisoners,” King Eireas said. “We were not lying when we said you…” but Daniel interrupted him.
“Tell me he’s not serious,” he implored the advisor at his side.
“I’m afraid he is,” Etia Sarmia confirmed sadly. “But you misunderstand us; we do not mean you any harm.”
The priest took a breath but the scowl on his face remained unchanged.
“Your highness,” I supplicated, “do not find insult in my words, for we find your island to be a center of both marvel and beauty. But whatever its charms, surely you must understand that we cannot linger here for the remainder of our lives. This is your home, but it is not ours. We have lives and families which we cannot abandon, even to the will of a King.”
The King cast his eyes down at the table. He appeared distraught and his jaw clenched as he processed his thoughts.
“Mr. Laurence,” he finally responded, “your words touch me greatly, more than you may imagine. And I sincerely wish that it was my will which was keeping you here. Alas, my will would have already had you safely back aboard your ship.”
“If not by your will,” I reasoned, “then why keep us here?”
“Even if you were to leave these shores right now,” the King explained, “to take a ship and return to where you came from, you couldn’t. The world you left behind is no longer there.”
Daniel was now fully crimson in the face. I could see the veins in his forehead throbbing as he digested the words. “Well I will not sit here and listen to such rubbish,” he dropped his cutlery onto the table with a metallic thud and stood up. “I thank you, your highness, for your kind welcome,” he said sarcastically.
Two purple-clad sentries instantly appeared from within the silks but the King lifted his hand and they held their distance.
“What is all this?” Travert demanded.
“His majesty has just proclaimed us all slaves!” Daniel hissed.
Lady Pearson jumped in her seat.
“What?!” Travert bellowed.
“We won’t accomplish anything by making such a show,” I pointed out. “We must try to reason with them.”
“There will be no reasoning with these barbarians!” Daniel warned.
“And he did not proclaim us slaves,” I added quickly, “he only told us that we cannot leave the island.”
Lady Pearson shuddered and Travert stood up in anger.
“Only!” Daniel shouted. “I will not stand for this a moment longer.” He stormed out of the room.
“Neither shall I,” Travert added impulsively. “Madame?” he offered his hand to Lady Pearson.
“Come Ella,” she ordered and stood up stiffly, “we are leaving.”
“No,” Ella retorted. “I won’t risk offending these people further. If Mr. Laurence feels we can reason with them, then I will assist him.”
“What can we possibly say?” her grandmother asked me.
“I’m not sure,” I replied honestly. “They just tried to tell us that the remainder of the world has disappeared. Perhaps this is some ancient superstition which keeps them from making contact. It’s much too soon to tell. I barely got a word out before Father Daniel caused this scene. In any case, there is no need for such rashness.”
Lady Pearson sighed. “Very well, Mr. Laurence, I thank you for your efforts. Tell the King that we have gone to calm the Father’s nerves.” She and Travert departed the room, leaving Ella, Rémy, and me in a tense silence with our hosts.
I passed along Lady Pearson’s message and apologized for the group.
“They will be well cared for,” King Eireas assured me. “The guards will escort them to your apartment.”
“Phillip,” Rémy began quietly, “Can you explain what happened?”
“Yes,” Ella added, shifting to the seat beside his, “I am very confused.”
I took some time to translate all that had transpired.
“But why would they make such a statement?” Ella asked. “What does it matter to them if we should depart?”
“I don’t know,” I responded, “but I mean to find out.”
The three of us made a pact to remain calm and courteous while we beseeched our hosts for understanding. We turned our hopeful faces to the King.
“Please continue, your highness,” I requested humbly. Etia Sarmia let out a small sigh, as if a great task had just been assigned to them.
“It has gotten quite warm in here with the commotion,” King Eireas pointed out to his advisor. “We could use a little more breeze.”
Sarmia nodded deeply and called out to one of the hidden servants. Moments later, a soft grinding sound arose from the great curved window. I watched in disbelief as the lower portion of the glass assembly receded down, expanding the horizontal gap. How such an immense structure could be manipulated at will was beyond me. As if in answer to my questions, Sarmia called out to the servant again. A young man brought forward a small rectangular box and handed it to the advisor.
It appeared to be made of polished stone, though the top was completely flat and non-reflective. I was instantly reminded of the little black square which I spotted in the hall earlier. Sarmia placed the box at the center of the table in view of all. She then gave it a gentle tap.
The top of the box instantly illuminated from within. But it did not just illuminate; shapes and patterns appeared where none were before. They shimmered, moved, and changed color. Ella gasped. I looked to Rémy, who now understood the odd light which I had described to him earlier. It was like staring into some otherworldly flame, a flat and colorful flare.
We could only observe wide-eyed as the advisor pressed one of the blue triangles of light. The grinding of the window resumed and the partition continued to lower. It ceased as soon as Sarmia’s finger released. She then touched the opposite triangle on the display, and the glass wall began to rise, slowly narrowing the gap.
“How is this possible?” I asked quietly.
“Join me,” King Eireas requested and we all rose from the table.
He escorted us to the window overlookin
g the city below. The forested capital was alive with light, white radiant light which neither flickered nor smoked. The entire city was run on electricity. Columns, pathways, domes, and windows were all brilliantly exposed amongst the darkness of the trees. My companions and I looked to one another and I saw traces of tears welling up in Ella’s eyes.
We stood stupefied. I stepped up to the opening in the glass, which formed a railing of sorts, and craned my neck out to look down to the base of the tower. Additional lights were directed at the metallic structure, though their glow made even our brightest cities appear crude and archaic. The island of Capribo was more than an isolated world; it was a world out of futurity.
Ella put her hands to her face and wiped her eyes. “What is this place?” she whimpered softly. “Nothing here makes any sense.”
Without thinking, I put my consoling arms around her. She was taken aback but did not pull away.
“Please don’t cry, Ella,” I said softly. “Everything will be alright.”
“I must apologize,” King Eireas said, “but I believe seeing can better explain your situation to you than mere listening.”
I translated the message to my fellows. Ella straightened herself up. I saw a hint of blush in her cheeks as she stepped away and regained her composure.
“It will not be easy for you to understand everything about our land,” Sarmia informed me. “But it is our duty as your hosts to ensure your comfort while you transition into your new lives. If you will allow it, we would like to show you exactly what has transpired since the storm befell your vessel on the sea.”
I knew there was nothing worse now than ignorance. We had taken a leap from which one cannot recover. So I accepted their offer. King Eireas led the way out of the dining chamber and we emerged into the hallway, now illuminated by sconces which I had earlier assumed to be mere carvings. Sarmia tapped the square nestled within the dark stone pillar in the hall. Just as before, the screen became covered with a fluid screen of light. Colorful pictures appeared where none were before, changing every second. I recognized some of the shapes. They were identical to the carvings above the doorways in the stairwell. If my theory was correct, I was watching some kind of electric countdown.