The Riddle of the Gods

by Lyra Shanti

  “Only for now, I swear,” he replied with a gentle pat to Ayn's shoulder. “I'll be back very soon, and we'll talk... all of us.”

  “Alright,” said Ayn, though he didn't want Pei to leave. “Goodbye, and good luck.”

  Nodding to both Ayn and Meddhi, Pei left the room.

  The silence after Pei's departure was thicker than mud. Immensely curious about the man with Meddhi-Lan's face, Ayn walked into the training room. The closer Ayn looked at him, the more he could tell that the man didn't just look similar to his Lan, but was identical. Other than his hair cut much shorter than Meddhi-Lan's, he was a perfect replica. Ayn felt a shiver crawl up his spine as he gathered the courage to speak.

  “Who are you?” he asked, mystified.

  “I'm not entirely sure myself,” said Meddhi. “Do we know each other? You seem quite familiar.”

  Ayn wanted to laugh at the absurdity of his question, and the entire situation. Instead, he quietly asked, “You think I'm familiar?”

  “Yes, very,” Meddhi replied. “I have a memory of your eyes looking at me, but... I think you were a child back then. Was I your... teacher?”

  Ayn couldn't take it any longer. It felt like a practical joke played by the Gods – yet another one! He shook his head and slowly backed away.

  “Wait,” said Meddhi, walking toward Ayn, “don't be afraid. Please, I'm just confused. I need help.”

  “You're confused?!” Ayn snapped. “I'm the one who is utterly confused! You were DEAD!”

  Meddhi grimaced, feeling the raw pain of Ayn's words.

  “I'm sorry,” he said, “I know it's crazy... but I was brought back. There was a doctor on Deius... Hessen, I believe his name was, and he-”

  “What?!” Ayn blurted. “What about Dr. Hessen?”

  “Well,” said Meddhi, “he used some kind of regeneration method, and here I am. I don't know the details. I didn't have time to ask. All I know is that I'm here now... though I barely remember my former life. I am told I was a teacher and a priest on Deius. It's very strange, though, because I honestly feel more at home here among these swords than in a temple on Deius.”

  Beyond shocked, Ayn was speechless. He had no idea how it could be possible for Hessen to bring someone back from the dead, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

  “I... refuse to accept that you're my Lan. You're not him... you can't be!”

  Meddhi shook his head and said, “Please, don't be afraid of me. I know we were close once. I can feel it.”

  Beginning to feel the sting of tears in his eyes, along with throbbing in his throat, Ayn backed away and yelled, “Stay away from me!”

  After running out of the room, Ayn instantly regretted his actions. If it was indeed Meddhi-Lan reborn, he didn't understand why he was running away instead of running to his beloved teacher with open arms. Ayn's brain refused to accept it truly was his Lan. It was too soon after his death. Plus, so much had happened already to shake Ayn's world; all he wanted was to run into Ona's arms.

  The princess had told him to meet her in the gardens that afternoon so they could talk and get to know each other further. The night before, Ayn kept seeing her beautiful green eyes in his memory. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, even perhaps more than Srah, or at least her equal. Ona was different to him somehow. There was something exceedingly familiar in her eyes, and her voice. He wanted to get lost inside the sound and feel of her. Running into the gardens, he hoped to the Gods she would be there.

  Unfortunately, she wasn't. Ona was being detained by a secret meeting with Baran who was trying to convince her to imprison Octian, even if their evidence had not been shown to the council yet. Baran was doing his best to present his case to her, telling her that Octian was dangerous. She believed him, but she also knew Baran's uncle was deep in the throes of political campaigning for Darvis to become their next king. Because of that, she worried the timing couldn't be worse for their kingdom. Baran, however, thought the timing couldn't be better.

  “Let's get him now, Ona, and stop Darvis' run before it even starts. You know as well as I do that he has no chance of winning anyway.”

  Ona grinned at Baran and said, “Yes, my arrogant friend, I realize you're far more popular than Darvis, but that has nothing to do with what I'm saying. I'm more concerned with Octian's pull with the elder councilmen, and if you arrest him before presenting the evidence, they'll think you're doing this for political reasons alone, which you're not. Right?”

  Baran found himself flustered. He was heavily attracted to her, especially when she teased him.

  “Of course not, my future queen,” he said, grinning.

  “Future queen?” she asked with a doubtful arch of her brow. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, I just...”

  “Oh, Baran,” she said, shaking her head, “before you start making me your queen in your fantasies, let's find my father first, then see what happens.”

  “Of course, but...” said Baran, still flustered.

  “Right now,” she interrupted, “you need to call The Council for a public meeting, and then hit them with all the evidence we have. It will be enough to vote on his arrest – probably right then and there. Don't you agree?”

  “Well, yes, I do, but-”

  “Good. Make it happen, Baran. I'm counting on you.”

  Sighing, Baran smiled, then bowed to Ona, giving a small kiss to her hand.

  “Of course, Your Highness. Consider it done.”

  Ona smiled, then excused herself from the room. She liked Baran, quite a bit, and she trusted him with her kingdom. However, her heart was already consumed by another man. She simply could not get Ayn out of her head, and she had a feeling he was thinking of her too. It was only just before noon, but she felt the strong urge to meet him for lunch at the place they had arranged: the bridge in the gardens, just underneath the hanging, rose-colored branches of the Borna tree.

  Ayn couldn't wait. He needed happy distraction and comfort. Pacing, all he could think about was Meddhi-Lan.

  Why did you allow this to happen, you insane gods in heaven? he rhetorically thought as he found himself heading back toward the Lirhan training room. He was a little terrified to confront Meddhi-Lan again, but he felt pulled to do it.

  He had seen his beloved teacher die right in front of him, and it had taken Ayn a long time to let it go, and to forgive himself for not being able to save his beloved teacher from such a horrible, bloody death. It felt like a strange, surreal dream to see his Lan again, breathing, talking, and walking!

  Yet, as Ayn entered the room, the man with Meddhi-Lan's face was still there, proof that the earlier encounter had not been a dream after all. The man seemed to be practicing movements with a sword that made Ayn's head spin. It was filled with plasma, and Ayn could sense it right away.

  “What are you doing?” Ayn yelped.

  “I... I couldn't help it! The sword called to me! It's too powerful, I'm sorry!” Meddhi replied, as if he'd been caught stealing.

  Ayn didn't know what to do.

  “Just give it to me,” he said authoritatively. Talking that way to his Lan felt utterly bizarre, but he felt the need to do so nonetheless. Taking the ancient Viha away from Meddhi, the sword glowed an iridescent light of power in Ayn's hands. It suddenly intoxicated him to his core. His mind became drunk, and his body as well.

  “I'm sorry,” Meddhi again apologized, “I really couldn't stop myself. It called... and I somehow pulled it to me. This sword... desires, needs to be used again. Can't you feel it?”

  Ayn could more than feel it. Warming his soul and body, the Viha glowed even stronger. Meddhi was amazed by the power emanating from both the sword and the man in front of him.

  Suddenly, Meddhi flashed to a vivid memory. He saw, clear as day, a beautiful woman with olive skin and long, dark brown hair, lying in a bed, nearly naked with only a gold-colored sheet to cover her. She smiled at Meddhi as she held a newborn child to him, saying, “Look, my love, h
e is the best of both of us.”

  Looking at the child, Meddhi saw eyes of deepest, crystalline blue. It was the eyes of the man who was now standing in front of him! It was the eyes of The Great Adin! Meddhi didn't understand, but somehow, with the help of this beautiful woman, he had given life to a god reborn.

  “She... was your mother,” said Meddhi, lost in his memory.

  “Whom do you speak of?” asked Ayn, who was also caught in a meditative state.

  “The queen...” Meddhi replied, “of Deius. Your mother, Queen Amya... she was my... lover. No, she was... my true love. I remember her... and I remember you now too, Ayn. You were my boy, my beloved boy!”

  Shocked into consciousness, Ayn woke from the power of Adin's Viha. He looked at Meddhi and said, “What? Are you saying you're my father? My actual father?”

  “Yes,” said Meddhi, “I don't know why I kept that from you foe so long, but... yes, I am. I can feel it to be true. I was protecting you... from what, I know not. It’s vague, but I think maybe the priests didn’t allow it. I can’t remember why exactly, but… they did not allow your mother and I to be together. I had to hide how you were created. They wouldn’t have understood. No one understood… and I… I’m so sorry, Ayn. I should have told you this… so long ago.”

  Ayn gulped back a flood of tears. Somehow, he had known the truth all along, but never once demanded it from his beloved teacher. Growing up at the temple, Ayn hoped it was true with all his heart, but his strong desire for it made him unsure whether it was real or merely a wish.

  Ayn wanted to rush to Meddhi and hold him, but for some reason, he couldn't do it. There was entirely too much emotion inside his heart, aided by the rush of plasma the sword was pumping into his veins.

  Afraid the plasma would force him to become Adin right in front of Meddhi, Ayn shook his head and said, “I'm not ready for this. Please, take it from me, Father. Take it away and never let me hold it ever again!”

  He shoved the Viha into Meddhi's hand, then ran out, fighting back his pain and confusion.

  Breathing erratically, Meddhi didn't want to hold the powerful sword either. It was still glowing and calling for its master. He took a deep breath, then concentrated as he levitated the sword back to the place on the wall that held it for so many years. His power surprised him, but he was getting used to having hidden abilities. He had a feeling the man he was before his death was a man of many secrets, and it would take some time to unravel his true self.

  Having calmed the sword, Meddhi breathed a sigh of relief, then walked out of the room. He wasn't sure if he should go look for Ayn, but after deliberating for a few moments, he decided against it. His instincts told him to let Ayn be, even if he wanted nothing more than to reclaim the son he thought he'd lost.

  –

  Ayn didn't understand his power, or how Adin's Viha seemed to activate it, but he didn't understand much at the moment. Between his own mysterious abilities and the truth which Meddhi had just revealed, Ayn was at a complete loss.

  Just then, Ayn heard a melody. It was lilting and sad, yet full of longing. Ayn didn't want to lose what he'd heard in his mind, so he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small flute he'd kept since his time on Xen. He then played the sweet, yet melancholy tune as he blew gently into the reed of the flute.

  He wasn't aware the princess was watching him. Ona couldn't help but stare at his beauty as she listened to his music. She had been waiting there for a few minutes already and was about to approach him when he began to play. It was magical in her eyes, the way his eyes closed as he played the sad, lilting music, and it spoke to her heart. It was the sound of his soul: deep and true, full of pain and love.

  Ona knew that Ayn had been through enormous turmoil in the years following the day The Tah attacked during his coronation, but she didn't know exactly what he had been through. She yearned to ask him, and to help him unburden his pain, but she wasn't sure what to say or do. Considering they had only just met, Ona was fearful over whether Ayn would even trust her enough to tell her his feelings.

  Apprehensive, Ona slowly walked toward Ayn, who seemed lost in his music, oblivious to her presence. She didn't want to disturb him, so she quietly leaned against a tree while letting his music seep into her soul.

  Ayn finally noticed Ona out of the corner of his eye. The sight of her made his heavy heart lift a little. He turned to his princess and played the music as if it were a song he'd written just for her. He then heard the song's lyrics as it flowed like water from his mind.

  I was lost in a sea of sorrow,

  But then you came, my white dove,

  And you saved me from my pain

  And gave me light,

  Gave me hope.

  My white dove, stay with me, please,

  And love me in the garden,

  Where we can be free,

  Together... under the trees.

  My white dove...

  My white dove...

  My white dove...

  He suddenly realized he'd stopped playing the flute and had sung aloud. Bashfully, he whispered, “I love you.”

  Ona stared at him with tearful eyes of yearning. She couldn't believe she could feel such strong feelings for someone she barely knew. She couldn't explain how, but she knew his very soul.

  Ayn was just as surprised, but he was more than willing to let his heart be his guide. After all the pain he'd been through, it felt right to allow himself such feelings of love. He wanted to hold Ona in his arms and didn't want to think about how or why he felt what he felt, or about anything else. All he wanted to do was become lost in her beautiful green eyes.

  “Your voice is heavenly,” said Ona as she went close to him, nearly touching his body with hers.

  They stood on the middle of a bridge, overlooking the spring, which nestled in the middle of the gardens. The sun was twinkling on the water as the butterflies danced in the light of the grass. It was a beautiful view, and Ayn's song seemed to linger in the air.

  Ayn looked at Ona's sweet, oval face as she looked back at him with longing. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and his feelings for her grew even more powerful. As his body ached with love, he wondered if it was too soon to kiss her, or if it was exactly as the Gods planned.

  “Ona...”

  “Yes?”

  “I think...”

  “Yes?”

  “I think that song was meant for you... and no one else.”

  She smiled sheepishly, then gently held his hands.

  “Then I am honored,” she said, her smile ever-growing, “for that song was the most beautiful I've ever heard.”

  Ayn's heart was now beating so hard he could barely think straight. He knew he should probably be asking her questions to get to know her better. He also recognized that everything was so confusing in his life at the moment and that Ona probably had a lot to deal with as well. However, he couldn't stop the beating of his heart, nor the throbbing all throughout his body. His longing for her was uncontrollable, and as he looked deeply into her eyes, he soon forgot all his cares.

  “I... think I'm falling in love with you, Your Highness.”

  She smiled, happy to hear him say aloud what she had been feeling as well.

  Slowly, their heads came together, as if pulled by an unknown force. Soon, their lips gently touched as their hearts swelled in ecstasy.

  It was like a dream to them both; a familiar and mystical, holy experience.

  Ayn felt Ona's soul through her lips, and it was intoxicating, making his head swim as he kissed her with all his usually held-back passion.

  She kissed him hard in return, letting go of her own repressed fire.

  It was almost too much emotion, though, as Ayn felt a strong lump forming in his throat with tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. He couldn't help but pull back. If he didn't, he feared he'd fall apart.

  “What's wrong?” asked Ona.

  “I... I don't know,” he replied as tears f
ell down his face.

  Ona was awe-struck, looking at his beautiful face. Even when crying, he appeared to her like a God. He didn't seem like The Bodanya, but like a man lovelier than she'd ever seen.

  Wanting to heal her God of a man, she gently stroked the side of his head, petting his long, silky black hair.

  “You can tell me, honey,” she said in a gentle voice.

  “It's everything,” he replied, wincing through his tears as he tried his best to keep himself under control. “I nearly died, but survived only to go through the most humiliating slavery. And to make matters more confusing, I just found out my favorite teacher growing up, Meddhi-Lan, is now alive again somehow, which goes against everything I've ever known to be holy. Not to mention he just told me that he's suddenly remembered he's my biological father! It's all insane, and yet, here I am with you, feeling as though I've met the one person in this vast universe I was meant to be with.”

  She smiled and reached for the side of his face. He held her face in return and said, “I'm sorry, but I'm broken, Ona, my white flower... my dove. You should have a man equal to your radiance. I'm not the prince you deserve. No, I'm... a tortured mess. I'm a paradox. I might as well be dead and with the Gods already because I don't belong in this world. I'm a freak.”

  Tears streamed down Ayn's face as Ona shook her head. Reaching for his back, she brought him closer and gently replied, “No, Ayn... you are not a paradox or a freak. You are the bravest, most beautiful and noble soul I've ever met, and you are exactly the man I've searched for. You, and no one else. If you're broken, then so am I. We can be broken together and mend each other through our hearts.”

  Ayn swallowed hard and looked deep into her green eyes. She loved him; it was evident. He didn't know why, but she did, and her love soothed his aching soul.

  “Why do I exist, Ona?” he asked without thinking.

  She smiled and said, “Because you do... and because you're meant to be here with me. Listen, Ayn, even though many terrible, confusing things have happened to you, I will protect your heart from this day forward. You will never be alone again, I swear.”