Between Darkness and Light Trilogy

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Between Darkness and Light Trilogy Page 27

by Brianna Hawthorne


  It isn't fair – if anyone could help me in this it would be Lucian, and he clearly is little closer to discovering my origins. I had so hoped.

  Lucian looks kindly down at me, “Come, Shi'ahn, I think you could do with a walk before I must leave you again.”

  “Don’t you have to be getting back to your… work? You have already been here quite a while.” I hope my words disguise just how much I want him to stay. He smiles,

  “Shi'ahn, the enlightened are masters of the dimensions; I have only been here moments as far as everyone else is concerned. Care for a nice stroll in the gardens?”

  “I would love to… but Lucian, wouldn’t that go against your father’s wishes?”

  “He has not specifically forbidden it.” His expression turns troubled. “Shi'ahn, please understand, I would never willingly do anything to cause you pain… but my father does not like you, and I must obey his orders. It was his orders I was forced to follow during Lydia's investigation, he wished you harmed, not me. He hates you, and I do not understand why.”

  “Then let us forget about him for now… I’d like to tour whatever you wish to show me.”

  The relief in his smile is substantial… even unprecedented, but I don’t care to delve into it now, I want to walk in the seeming outdoors again! I don’t bother putting on shoes before we leave – nature should be experienced completely, not confined by foot coverings. I take his outstretched arm and without pause we appear in a beautiful garden.

  “Lucian, there is something else I don’t understand… this place is so amazingly beautiful… why don’t more people visit here?”

  “This is a family garden, Shi'ahn, and our family is not particularly interested in surrounding themselves with beauty. Not those who have been… engineered by our father, that is. We have jobs that we are assigned, and we fulfill them. During our spare time we tend to indulge more pressing needs than the enjoyment of natural beauty.”

  “Then why are we here – why are you using your precious free time here with me?”

  His expression is sad, yet earnest. “Because you intrigue me, and the rare ambiguity of my father's orders permit it. I suspect I will be under more direct orders when next we meet.”

  There is such regret in his voice, I reach out again for his arm and walk through the garden with him, enjoying the moment as much as I can.

  We seem to wander randomly, guided more by my interests than anything else, and so end up in the forest, eventually coming upon a circle of nine great blue stones that sing a most welcoming song.

  “Lucian, what is this place? It seems… familiar.”

  “You must be mistaken – this is our most holy place; the Circle of the Nine Seraphim.”

  I walk up to the stones, caressing the nearest one, “What are Seraphim?”

  His voice seems surprised, “They are the great beings, those who exist to serve the Bodhisattva.”

  “And the Bodhisattva is?”

  Still touching the stone, I circle around it, waiting for Lucian' reply, but it does not come. I look away from the stone toward Lucian, but he is not there – nothing outside the circle is there. Inside, however… it is as though an entire world exists here. I still touch one stone, but the next nearest is impossibly far away. I hear great wonders, and see a forest that outstrips the beauty of all other sights I have seen in my life. I want to run through this place, to surround myself with the amazing feel of it, I begin spinning around, reveling in the beautiful harmonies; the air sparkles around me.

  “It's not time for that, Shi'ahn, though I am glad to see that this place pleases you so.”

  “Cailli! Why are you here? I was just looking around, I wasn't going to mess with anything.”

  She laughs lightly, “Of course not, but your escort is worried - he did not anticipate this. Come.” She leads me back to Lucian. “No harm done, here she is, safe and sound.” Without waiting for a reply, Cailli disappears in her characteristic burst of sparkling crystal light.

  Lucian sounds exasperated, but not angry, “What were you doing?”

  “I was just curious, the stones were singing. I wanted to listen more carefully. It's wondrous in there, so beautiful – I doubt there is a more beautiful place in all of creation!”

  “I wouldn't know - we do not enter the sacred circle.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry - I didn't realize!”

  “No, I suppose you couldn't have.” He looks troubled. “Come, Shi'ahn, I think it is time for you to return to your rooms - I have work to continue.”

  ~~~

  Lucian does indeed have work to continue, for interrogations do not have to occur in person, nor while the subject is conscious.

  Chapter 19

  Dream Interrogation

  I’m swimming in a river of memories. Feeling somehow guided by… I can’t really tell… I search for the perfect place to dive deeper. Parents, the beginning, always a good place to start.

  ~~~

  I am a child, dancing and singing with Mathair; her voice is music and her words always filled with love. I sit in her lap, amidst a field of flowers.

  “Look around you, Shi'ahn, you are surrounded by the Circle of Life. The plants draw nutrients from the soil, absorb gases from the air that do not nourish animal life, they absorb sunlight and give off life sustaining oxygen. They make sweet smelling flowers that draw bees, who spread the pollen, helping the flowers make more flowers. Some bees collect the pollen and make honey, of which you are so fond. The bees eventually die, as do the plants, but their discarded bodies decay and become nourishment in the soil for future plants. All that is living eventually dies, and then becomes nutrients for others to thrive upon. That is the Circle of Life, and it is sacred. All life is sacred, Shi'ahn, always remember that. The simple blade of grass is not equal to the sentient being, but it is nonetheless sacred. Everything is a part of the greater whole, everyone and everything has its part to play, and together we create the symphony that is the Universe.”

  I look questioningly up into her beautiful eyes, “What do we give back to the world?”

  “That is up to each of us to decide. Our lives are not as simple as the plants or animals lives, we must discover our purpose and then do all that we can to fulfill it.”

  “But how do I learn what it is that I am meant to do?”

  “Listen to all around you, the Universe will reveal what you are to do, if you learn how to listen to her. Until that day comes, though, try to spread love and joy to all around you.”

  “Will you listen for me again, please?” I lay my head against her chest, willing her essence to engulf me.

  “As you wish.” Indescribable beauty washes through me as I hear the perfection of the flowers around us; I give myself completely to their song.

  ~~~

  Another lesson. Now we each stand on a small raft tethered out in the lake during a windstorm. She says, “You keep asking how to know what you should do, but mere words will not suffice. Existence is like the waves and wind; they buffet and rock us as they please. You must become one with your surroundings so your body and soul can conform to the needs of the moment. Balance is the key.”

  I fall many times, yet soaked and chilled, Mathair keeps telling me to climb back up and give myself over to the storm that surrounds us. “Life does not pause and wait for you to figure it out, you have to learn to adapt instantaneously. Use every sense you can, listen to the shifts in the wind, to the roar of the white-capping waves. Watch the waves, see how they grow and subside, feel both the rocking of your raft and the buffeting of the wind. Become one with all you hear, see and feel – become a part of the storm so that you belong, and you will find your balance.” She is right.

  ~~~

  On land we dance together to the music she projects – it is much like the music she hears and sometimes shares with me, as though she is translating it into audible sound. We give ourselves over to the music, letting it control our movements; sharing in the ecstasy of life.

&n
bsp; ~~~

  Mathair takes me to the Lunarium. Its guardians do not ask her the proscribed questions, at the mere sight of her they become deferential; she tells them to always treat me the same, then we enter. The deep blue of the night sky drops away, leaving black filled with tiny specks of light.

  “This is the Universe, Shi'ahn; a small part of she whom we serve. Take my hands and listen with me.” The memory abruptly ends, as though I had been peering through a doorway that was unexpectedly slammed shut.

  ~~~

  The waters around me turn suddenly cold; I hear Mathair’s cries as she is led away, they are filled with sorrow yet accompanied by an undertone of necessity. She is gone, taken away by a completely unremarkable man. It strikes me for the first time that my memory of the man is odd – who overtly thinks of anyone of significance as completely unremarkable? I try to swim closer to the vision, but I find there is no depth to the figure, as though he isn’t really there. He backs away from me and disappears.

  ~~~

  I’m back on the surface again, and cold… terribly cold. ‘I’m so lonely Mathair! I miss the warmth of your loving embrace, your musical voice, the depth in your eyes as you hold my face cupped in your hands.’

  I’m drawn further down the stream, I’m older now… I walk through villages at night and hear families laughing and playing, and later yet – love encounters. They sound so happy. During the day I can see the looks these couples exchange – no man ever looks at me that way. I want one to, I want to be loved. It isn’t that the people don’t love me, they do… but not the way they love each other.

  William doesn’t have this problem, all he has to do is smile and any woman who meets his gaze nearly swoons. I don’t understand! My skin is quite pale, yet beyond that I don’t think I’m ugly… I know that something about my presence is different, but William has the same unusual feel and complexion, yet if anything they increase his attractiveness! Why would they work to his advantage while destroying mine?

  In self-defense I do the only thing I can think to do – I deny the very existence of my misery. Instead of pursuing unattainable happiness, I study. Knowledge does not warm the soul as love would, but it does keep the mind busy. It distracts from the pain.

  ~~~

  Keep swimming… I’m older yet, and the water around me is still cold, unshared; when men look at other women they feel… heat, a wanting… lust. When men look at me they feel reverence, no one even fleetingly thinks of me as a woman. I’m so lonely. Keep swimming, searching… I sense an intense memory below – I dive. The water is warm, welcoming, I immerse myself within it.

  I am older, and though I do not look it, I am nearly twice the age when most marry. I’m studying with the Technologists, talking with a friend. I have known Margarette for a long time; she is the closest thing I have to a human friend anywhere. It’s strange in a way to have my only friend come from this hard continent at the bottom of the world, but destiny brings us what it will. In a moment of unusual openness, I confess to her how I long for men to see me as a woman. Smiling in a way I’ve never seen her smile before, she mentions that there are actually some areas nearby that have never heard of ‘The Shi'ahn.’

  I feel overcome with curiosity and anticipation. “Really? Where? I had understood that my image has been cast through your news network to all who can see.”

  “Not everywhere. There is a region, far below, where the occupants pay no attention to the world above them. They prefer their own world, they sing their own songs, though I do not know if you would care for their din.”

  “They are poor musicians?”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that they are bad – as you so often say, as long as even one observer enjoys the music, it is not bad, merely different. Their music just seems… more different than any other I have heard.”

  I find myself intrigued on many levels, in fact I have a hard time not thinking of that unusual conversation, and so on the last night before my departure, the night before I am to return home to lead the Beltane dances yet again, I decide to try to celebrate Beltane myself, one night early. I sneak out of the University grounds, carrying far different clothing to change into when I am away. I don’t go for the tattered look I’d learned they like where I’m headed, but more… wild… naughty, yet according to Margarette it is plausible for the area. I carry a mid thigh length tight black dress, the neckline low and off the shoulders. It’s made of a strangely elastic material that shows every curve perfectly. That would be problematical with underclothes, but this is my Beltane – I will not be wearing any.

  Close to my destination, but still a few levels above, I go into a restroom, sneak into the ventilation system and travel down the final levels. Dropping down into another restroom, I clean myself up, change clothes and apply a special perfume I created myself – based on an aphrodisiac scent often worn at the Beltane celebrations. It is partially magical, of course, it will not wash off or rub onto anything or anyone else – it essentially becomes a part of the wearer until dispelled. I have added to it my vial of pheromones that I'd collected during the final rounds of the Beltane dance… it should prove irresistible if I can just find the right man. I hide the vial and my good clothes in the ventilation shaft for later.

  I tease my hair out until it resembles a mane, and apply makeup intended to bring out what provocative traits I may have. Fortunately I don't have to do anything about my skin, as Margarette informed me that these technologists are even more pale than the norm in this underground realm, and many purposely lighten their skin even further – I'll look much like one of them. No one has ever seen me as I am tonight! When I’m certain I shouldn’t be recognized, I stroll confidently out of that restroom doing my best to look as though I belong in this strange place, and cast my eyes boldly about in search of an interesting looking ‘bar’, a place where Margarette said people often go to meet others.

  ~~~

  At first I don’t recognize anything that might be a bar; I have to work at keeping the air of confidence and allure about me as I scan my surroundings. Eventually a man who looks like a guard on duty in front of some important installation meets my bold gaze.

  “Hello beautiful, you look like you could use a drink. Follow me, I’m sure we can find something for you inside.” He takes me to a high counter and indicates that I should sit in a tall chair.

  The man behind the counter asks, “What would you like, my pretty?”

  I keep my voice low, provocative. “Companionship?”

  His expression turns almost wistful, “I can’t give you that, I’m on duty - but I can mix up a drink that will make you feel warm all over. On the house.”

  I have no idea what his last statement means… but I try not to let him know, “That sounds like a good start.” He turns his back to me and whispers something to another man, who leaves with an air of purpose about him. Just as I finish my drink, an unusual looking man sits down next to me. His hair sticks up in spikes and is colored strangely, and his clothes are… well, I would say tattered, but somehow purposefully so - they are not old, and are perfectly clear. Odd.

  He says, “May I buy you something?”

  “I don’t accept gifts from strangers.” He seems taken aback momentarily, but my smile is playful, so he smiles back.

  “I’m no stranger, I’m Rock, everyone knows me here. The question is, who are you, my pretty?”

  I like the way he says that, he sounds possessive. But what can I call myself – what doesn’t sound the least bit like Shi'ahn? “I’m… Maiair.”

  “Maiair, that’s pretty. Now that we know each other, would you care for another drink?”

  “Why not?”

  “What would you like?”

  Rats, I don’t know what they call these things, what should I say? I try to cover my pause by gazing deeply into his eyes, and will my perfume to waft toward him. “Whatever you think I might like – surprise me.” Strangely, all he does is lift a finger toward the bartender, then gestu
re toward me, and nod. The bartender begins to mix something far more complicated than what I had before. Some of the ingredients come from what I suspect is a hidden compartment. “So, what kind of rock are you, my new friend?”

  Yet again he looks slightly surprised, but intrigued as well, “I am all kinds of rock, my pretty.”

  “A conglomerate, then? Interesting,” I glance up at his hair, “but yes - somehow it suites you.” He looks as though he isn’t really used to something about our conversation. Oh Shi'ahn, don’t mess this up! Recalling the heated gazes often exchanged during the later Beltane rounds, I smile invitingly again, hoping he will forget my strange comment. I also send another wave of my perfume his way, wishing it to have the desired effect. His expression returns to one of interest, perhaps mixed with intrigue. Whew.

  The drink he ordered for me arrives, the glass is warm when I pick it up, and I’m apparently meant to drink it through a very thin straw that widens out at the top. I sense no magic, but the strange straw molds itself smoothly to the roof of my mouth as I suck on it… This new drink is quite thick, I have to pull fairly hard, but all my doubts are wiped away as the hot chocolate/coffee creaminess of it slides down my throat, growing seductively hot as an unusual amount of alcohol and… something else is absorbed into my mouth and throat. I completely fail to hold back a moan of decadent pleasure as I lose myself in the experience. His smile looks interesting – amused? It’s so good I drink it all without pausing, but slowly, luxuriating in the feel of it, in the warmth first sliding down my throat, then spreading throughout my body. His eyes never leave me.

  After I finish and take a moment to recover my senses, I smile invitingly, “That was very good; I’ve never had anything like it before.”

  “Hmm… a good drink isn’t the only thing that can make a person feel good. Do you like to dance?”

  I smile radiantly, “Yes, I love to!”

 

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