The Riddle of the Gods

by Lyra Shanti

  “How are you feeling, my beloved?” she asked, looking into his oceanic, blue eyes.

  “I feel better,” he replied, only somewhat lying. He did feel better than he had before, which he took as a good sign, but he was still rather tired. On the other hand, he desperately wanted to visit Atlar, Pei, and all who bravely fought in the battle on Sirin.

  “You look like you rested well,” she said with a smile.

  “I did. How did the trial go?”

  Ona sighed and crossed the room to pour them both cups of water from the carafe on his night table. “It was a bit of a nightmare, to be honest. Be glad you weren't there.”

  “What happened?” asked Ayn as he took the cup of water from Ona, then drank a sip.

  “Octian lost his mind,” she said with a slight laugh.

  “Really? How?”

  “Well, after Baran interrogated Darvis on the stand about his relation to Octian, he broke and called Darvis a traitor and a weakling. It was awful. I know Darvis isn't completely innocent in all this, but I can't help but feel sorry for him.”

  Ayn nodded, though he didn't quite understand the politics involved.

  “So... Octian was found guilty of treason?”

  “Not yet,” she replied after taking a sip of water, “but I have a strong feeling that will indeed be the verdict. They're voting at noon.”

  “I see,” said Ayn as he put his cup down on the night table. “Before that happens, I'd like to visit your father and the others who were injured. Do you want to come with me?”

  “Very much, my love,” she said, gently holding his hand.

  “Ona...” he whispered as they walked out of the room.

  “Yes?”

  “I'm sorry I couldn't heal your father completely.”

  “Oh, Ayn!” she yelped, grabbing onto his arm. “You did everything you could! All I want is you by my side during this terrible time. I may lose my father, but at least you brought him home to me before he leaves this physical realm. I can't thank you enough for that.”

  Ayn nodded as Ona kissed his cheek. He personally didn't think what he'd done was enough, but if Ona loved him anyway, that was all that mattered.

  Arriving at the infirmary hand-in-hand, Ona and Ayn were greeted by the two healers in charge of Atlar. The healers then led them to Atlar's private room, which had been quarantined away from the other patients there.

  When entering the private room, they were given gloves and masks. It was a little intimidating, but they followed protocol.

  Atlar's breathing was shallow and he didn't look any different from the day they first arrived from Sirin. It bothered Ayn greatly to see there had been no change in his condition. Some Bodanya I am, he thought, and for a moment, he wished he'd told Axis to heal him instead, or to at least try. Remembering the effect doing so had on Raxas, however, quelled Ayn's doubts. The last thing he needed was for Axis to go mad.

  Ona reached for Atlar's hand and said, “Father? It's Ona. I'm here with you... and so is Ayn, The Bodanya. We're here and we want you to feel our love and get better.”

  Atlar didn't move as he slept, unable to respond.

  “Where is he, Ayn?” she asked, frightened. “Has he slipped into his unconscious for good?”

  “I don't know,” Ayn sadly replied, “but he doesn't seem well. I'm so sorry.”

  Ona frowned and began to cry. “Father,” she said as she held his hand, “please come back to me... at least to say your goodbyes. Please, don't leave me like this.”

  Crying with her eyes faced down, Ona suddenly felt a slight squeeze to her hand. She looked up and saw that Atlar had opened his eyes. He was looking at her and smiling.

  “My baby...” he faintly spoke, “I'm here. Don't cry.”

  “Oh, Father!” burst Ona as she grabbed him. Immediately, the healers warned her not to touch him directly, but she hushed them, embracing her father tenderly without restraint.

  Ayn whispered to the healers, “Excuse me... I don't mean to be rude, but from what I've read, Undaniasis is not contagious like other contagious illnesses. It is a disease more cellular in nature, so please, give the princess privacy.”

  They didn't seem to understand what he meant, but they bowed and backed away. Ayn wondered if they knew who he was or if they simply just followed whatever orders Ona gave them. Either way, he was glad they seemed to respect his words. He was deeply worried for Ona and Atlar equally. Ayn felt helpless to stop the king's advanced illness, but the least he felt he could do was protect them both emotionally.

  “I'm not leaving you, my sweet, little flower... not yet,” Atlar said in a gruff whisper. Touching her tear-stained face, Atlar smiled once more, dreamlike, and said, “Just look at you... you look so much like your mother... so regal, so pure. She's so proud of the woman you've become, honey. So am I... we are both so proud.”

  Ona couldn't take it. Breaking down inside, she grabbed the hand he was using to pet her face and said, “Oh, no you don't. You are not doing this to me, Daddy! Don't you dare join Mother yet! Not now that I have you back! Stay with me, Father! Stay long enough so we can find a cure!”

  “I wish...” he replied faintly, “I could stay with you... forever... my sweet girl, but I have to join her now, I'm sorry... she's waiting. She's been waiting for so long now. Goodbye, my flower... I love...”

  “No!” yelled Ona as Atlar's eyes unfocused, then slowly closed. Shortly after, Atlar's hand went limp as his last breaths escaped his pale body.

  Unable to accept the truth of his passing, Ona kept on shouting for her father to come back. He did not move, however, which broke Ayn's heart as he watched.

  “He's gone, Ona,” he quietly said, softly touching her shoulder. “I'm sorry, my love, but his soul has passed on into the spirit realm. You must let him go now.”

  “I can't!” cried Ona as she turned to face Ayn from the bed.

  Nodding sadly, Ayn reached for her. At fist Ona felt paralyzed with pain, but in a matter of seconds, Ayn's deep blue eyes pulled her in. “Oh, Ayn!” she said as she rushed to his arms. “My father is gone! He's really gone! It's not fair!”

  “I know, honey,” he quietly replied, “I know...”

  Ayn wasn't letting it out, but watching her with Atlar had triggered long suppressed memories of his own about his mother.

  He remembered having the nightmare about her death, rushing to Meddhi-Lan in the middle of the night, and then seeing his mother in bed as she slipped away from him. It was so painful he barely let himself think about it throughout his childhood. He had learned the skill of escaping pain through meditation, partly from the Dei's teachings, and partly from his own need to forget.

  However, watching Ona and Atlar, Ayn now realized by forgetting the pain he also forgot the joy. He didn't get to see his mother often as a child, but he loved her deeply, and wanted to remember her from this point on: her kind and beautiful face, her calm aura, and her radiant smile.

  Squeezing Ona in his arms, he looked at her tear-filled, green eyes and said, “He will always be with you, honey. Our loved ones never really leave us. Their spirits stay embedded in our hearts.”

  All Ona could do was quiver and nod. She wanted to believe in the spiritual world, but she still wasn't sure. She had always talked to her mother's spirit since she was a little girl, and at first, she swore she could feel her, even see her at times in the garden. Unfortunately, at a certain point, she couldn't hear or see her anymore, and it made Ona question everything. Atlar had always been an outspoken atheist, so it only solidified her cynicism. However, thinking on her father's final words, Ona couldn't help but smile.

  “He said he saw my mother, Ayn... and that they're together now.”

  Gently smiling, Ayn nodded. “I believe they are indeed together, Ona. I can sense it.”

  Ayn's words made Ona's heart swell. “Thank the Gods,” she said between tears and laughter. “My father missed her so much. He never really loved another woman, and I hope he is at peace now. I
hope they both are.”

  Ayn nodded, saying, “They are... I can feel it.”

  Unaware of the king's passing, yet somehow pulled there emotionally, Meddhi stood just outside of the room where only a gold sheet of silk hung, acting as a door. He had the urge to walk inside, but worried it would be inappropriate. Baran had mentioned earlier to him about how Meddhi's past self and Atlar had been friends as young men, but he could hardly remember it. Even so, he thought it right to visit a dying friend. What he found instead was a tear-stained Ona holding hands with Ayn as they walked out of the room with somber faces.

  Meddhi quickly gathered what had happened, so he bowed low with his hand on his heart as Ona passed by. Stopping for a moment, she turned to Ayn and said, “Please tell everyone that my father has passed. I am too emotional, and I'd like to lie down for a while.”

  “Of course, my love,” said Ayn as he gently touched her shoulder. “Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. You should rest. Shall I check on you later tonight?”

  “Ayn...” she said, fighting more tears, “I love you. I know we just met, but I do... more than words can tell.”

  “I love you too, Ona,” he replied, confused why she was saying such heavy words at that particular moment.

  “However...” she added, “I think I need to be alone for a while. Can you understand?”

  “Oh, of course,” he dutifully replied. “I'll give you all the time you need.”

  “I do want to be with you... and soon. Just not right now.”

  “I completely understand,” Ayn said as he kissed her cheek. “I will be here when you need me, and no sooner. All you have to do is ask.”

  Half-smiling through her sadness, Ona turned, then took her leave. She wanted to escape the room before the healers had the chance to escort the body of her father to the Dryndi temple, where Atlar would be prepared for his funeral. With mysterious, sacred oils and perfumes, the priestesses would help his spirit safely travel to Jornah, the Krian afterlife where all the kings and heroes of the past gathered together for an endless festival of wine, food, and musical celebration.

  Ona herself didn't believe in any of it, but she enjoyed the myths of her people, if only for the romance of it all. However, the one myth she hoped was actually true was the one about the spirit-world. She prayed her father did indeed find rest with her mother. Despite lacking the scientific proof, Ona still yearned to believe in the spiritual realm, now more than ever.

  As she left the infirmary, Ayn looked at Meddhi, which caused an uncomfortable silence between them. They both had so much they wanted to say to each other, yet no words came.

  Quickly glancing away, Ayn cleared his throat and stepped into the center of the room. He noticed that both Kren and Pei were there. Kren seemed to be visiting Sterek, whom Ayn didn't know, though he had heard Sterek was a brave Tah soldier who had recently rebelled and was now on their side. Pei was in a bed, recovering from his battle-wound. Next to him was Jin, who was now almost completely healed from his wounds he had incurred as a prisoner on Deius.

  Ayn swallowed hard, preparing himself for what he had to say.

  “May I have your attention,” he announced. “I have very sad news. King Atlar... is dead. He died peacefully with his daughter, Princess Ona, at his side. Please, let us take a moment of silence in honor of Kri's brave and noble king.”

  Ayn bowed his head and waited for those around him to do the same. It was dead silent in the large, white room where the sick and injured lay.

  Walking into the middle of their silent prayer, Baran instantly realized something was wrong. He assumed his king, and beloved uncle, was now dead. He still had no clue what had happened to his father, but he'd never been close to Raifar. It was Atlar who had taken the time to talk to him and train him to become a Lirhan. In many ways, Atlar was more of a father to Baran than his own had been.

  Baran's stomach lurched as he felt the weight of his anger and loss. He had prayed Atlar would somehow make it through, and together, they would find the ones responsible for poisoning him. Baran had also hoped they'd find his father as well. Unfortunately, neither outcome was possible now. Feeling as though he'd been hit by a plasma-shuttle, Baran leaned against the arched entrance to the infirmary and hung his head low, hiding his tears from the rest of the room.

  Ayn had the urge to sing, but kept it to himself. The Dei always sang slow litanies at such moments, but he wasn't sure how the Krians handled death, so he remained silent. Instead, he simply raised his head and said, “Long live King Atlar in the heavens.”

  Baran looked up and sadly smiled at Ayn who nodded in return.

  “So... “ said Baran as he approached, “our king has died from a mysterious, Undaniasis-like illness, which none of our healers could understand. Do I have that right, Bodanya Shiva?”

  “Unfortunately, that is true, Minister” Ayn replied. “Usually, Undaniasis spreads through the body slowly... like it did with my mother. Yet, it happened so quickly for Atlar. It was very bizarre...”

  “Appearing as if it had been purposefully induced, would you say?”

  “I don't know,” said Ayn, looking at Baran with his eyebrow raised. “You believe he was murdered?”

  “Don't you?”

  Ayn shook his head and sighed. “I don't know what happened, Baran. All I know is Atlar was an ally to Deius and a friend, and his daughter loved him very much. She is now father-less, and I am sad for her... and for all of Kri.”

  “Thank you, Ayn,” said Baran, genuinely touched. “You truly are The Bodanya...”

  Ayn nodded, though warily, sensing Baran was not finished.

  “- which is why we need to act now. If I can get Octian to confess about who helped him kidnap and poison Atlar, then you and I can can enact our revenge on those who are responsible. We know that Yol Notama arranged it, but my bet is that it was the Ohrian Prime Minister pulling the strings from behind the scenes. If we attack Notama now, while he's weak, we can take back Deius, where you will rightfully rule. We can then combine our armies and Ohr won't know what hit it!”

  “Enough!” Ayn snapped, surprising everyone nearby, including Meddhi who was now visiting with Jin and Pei. “I will not hear about vengeance! How can you plot and scheme so soon after Atlar's death?”

  Baran, a bit shaken from Ayn's unexpectedly sharp voice, took a step back and said, “I'm so sorry if I've offended you, Your Holiness. I just thought you would feel the same as I about the matter. You're angry and want justice, do you not?”

  “Yes...” said Ayn, calmer than before. “I want justice. Justice, not revenge.”

  “With all due respect,” said Baran, “sometimes there is a very fine line.”

  “That is true. But we must navigate that line carefully,” replied Ayn, emphasizing his every word with pointed authority.

  Baran felt a twinge of resentment building in his gut. It was bad enough Ayn seemed to be stealing Ona's affection, but now this Shiva was taking an authoritative stance with him as well, as if Ayn was the new leader of Kri and not Baran.

  Keeping his hurt pride to himself, he nodded silently and said, “As you say, Bodanya. However, I hope you and I may sometime soon discuss these fine lines. I fear crossing them may be inevitable.”

  “They indeed may be,” said Ayn, “but now is not the time for strategy. We must first mourn and bury Ona's father. Then, we may think on it further.”

  “Yes, Bodanya,” replied Baran, biting his tongue. He needed Ayn if he was going to win a war against Ohr, and so kept his objection silent, for the time being. “Well,” said Baran, “if you'll excuse me, I must announce the tragic news to the rest of The Council, and then to the media and news outlets. It is a sad day for all of Kri.”

  “Indeed it is,” said Ayn with a polite nod.

  As Baran took his leave, Ayn turned his attention to Meddhi, Jin, and Pei. Ayn desperately wanted to confront Meddhi about what had been revealed earlier in their discussion, but Ayn wasn't sure now was the right
time. Likewise, the very same thought swirled in Meddhi's mind as Ayn walked toward him.

  “How are you feeling?” Ayn directed toward Pei, then Jin.

  Pei half-smiled and said, “I'm doing much better, thank you, Shiva. My side just needs to heal up, but I'm feeling good. Jin here is almost all the way healed, the lucky boy! I think they are going to let him leave today, actually.”

  “I keep telling them I'm fine,” said Jin, “but they still prod me, testing my blood and whatnot. It's annoying.”

  Ayn smiled and said, “Well, from what I've heard, you lost a lot of blood. They probably just want to make sure you're healthy again. The Krian healers here seem rather efficient. Just be patient, Jin. It won't be long till you're up and ready to go.”

  “Bodanya, can I ask you something?” said Jin, timidly.

  “You may call me Ayn. But yes, what's on your mind?”

  “We were never really friends before, mostly because you were busy... and, well, because you're The Bodanya, but I just want to say that I admire you very much, and I hope we can become friends now.”

  “I'd like that very much, Jin,” Ayn said with a smile. “We are all that is left of the priesthood. Our paths may have changed, and we are not what we once were, but... we are still brethren. Yes?”

  Pei smiled wide as he put his hand on Ayn's shoulder, and then on Jin's. “We will always be brothers,” Pei said firmly.

  Ayn smiled in return, but when he looked at Meddhi, he saw his ex-Lan looking as if tears might slide down his face at any moment. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “I just... feel a sense of relief, I guess,” Meddhi replied. “I'm beyond relieved that both of you escaped on that horrible day.”

  Surprised, Ayn raised his brow. “Does that mean you remember what happened at my coronation?”

  “Well,” sighed Meddhi, “it's vague, to be honest, but yes... I think I do. Things are slowly coming back to me. I remember you about to be crowned... and then that man with the gun bursting into the room. I also remember dying... and the blood. It's quite disturbing, but I remember now, yes.”