by Lyra Shanti
“You should take it easy,” said Pei, feeling more like the Lan in this situation, which he thought strange. “Don't overdo it, Meddhi. If your memories come, they come. Don't force it.”
“But I must somewhat force it, Pei,” said Meddhi. “I have so much that I need to remember, and if I don't push myself, I'll not remember anything.”
“Maybe you shouldn't remember...” said Jin sadly.
“No,” said Meddhi, “I'd rather live in a world of truth than in a land of illusion, even if it seems happier there.”
The poetic, Dei-like way Meddhi now spoke jogged Ayn's own memories. Suddenly, he remembered being a young boy at the meditation pool, having just banged his knee on the side of the fountain. After he complained about the pain, saying that it would have been better if one could just forget their wounds, he recalled Meddhi telling him, “One cannot forget their wounds or they risk the chance to learn from their pain. It is better to live inside the truth than become lost in illusion.”
His Lan always reiterated how good it is to be alive, and to value each moment, despite the bitterness life can give. Meddhi often said, “Living can taste like a bitter fruit, but it can also taste like sweet candy, full of love and kindness.” This, Ayn believed to be true, now more than ever, and it was good to hear the wisdom that had once existed inside his beloved Lan still lingered inside the newly remade one before him.
"Meddhi..." said Ayn, almost unconsciously.
"Yes, Ayn?" Meddhi replied as he turned to face him.
"Do you remember my mother?"
Gulping, Meddhi nodded, then quietly replied, "Yes, I remember her, Ayn... perhaps more than I remember anything else."
Ayn wanted desperately to probe Meddhi further about his mother, but not while in front of Pei and Jin. It was simply too sensitive of a subject for them both, and so Ayn merely nodded his head in reply.
A few seconds of uncomfortable silence followed as Meddhi stared at Ayn's medallion.
“Do you remember this?” asked Ayn, touching his medallion.
“I... think I do, yes,” replied Meddhi.
“You gave it to me for my birthday... the night before the coronation. Do you remember?”
Meddhi breathed deep and said, “Yes, I do, but... there are strange feelings I have about that necklace, Ayn. Somehow, it is tied to your destiny. I can't quite remember why exactly yet, but I know it's important. I'm sorry. This is something I do not know if I can express clearly, not here anyway.”
Nodding, Ayn said, “It's alright, there is a time and a place for such discussions. Perhaps we can meet later this evening?”
“Yes, that would be good,” said Meddhi, “but... wouldn't the princess prefer you called upon her instead? She is grieving heavily for her father, no doubt.”
“That, she is,” replied Ayn, “but she wishes to grieve alone in this particular moment.”
“Are you sure about that?” Meddhi asked with a slightly raised brow.
“What do you mean?” asked Ayn.
“Well, from what I remember about women, they often say one thing and feel another. I just wonder if perhaps she would rather you stay by her side at this difficult time.”
Pei didn't want to jump into their private conversation, but Ayn seemed as if he was tongue-tied.
“Meddhi,” said Pei, “I am sure Ayn knows what is best for his new... friend.”
“She's more than a friend!” came an excited, high pitched female voice. “Lohee, er... I mean, Reese, told me that Ona told her she's never been so in love before! I bet they're going to get married and have lots of babies starting next spring!”
“That's quite enough, Iliya,” said Arna, the head healer in the infirmary, as well as Emelanthia's apprentice at the Dryndi temple. She had been assigned the task of personally overseeing Atlar's illness, as well arrange for his funeral, if and when the time came. She had been extremely busy the last few days, but Iliya had already managed to become familiar with her.
Thinking of herself as a healer-in-training, Iliya had been following Arna around like a lost puppy.
“I'm sorry,” said Arna as she gently pulled Iliya's hand, “I'm sure Princess Iliya didn't mean to bother you.”
Ayn hadn't realized it before, but he now realized the young, blonde girl was a princess, and his cousin. He vaguely remembered meeting her when he was around twelve years old. She was a small toddler at the time, but even then, she was a handful for her parents and their slaves.
“I remember you,” said Ayn as he bent down to her with a smile.
“Good! I remember you too,” she said, grinning at him as well.
“Are you a nurse now?” he asked with a wink.
“No,” she said, slightly offended, “I'm studying to be a Dryndi healer! I'm going to be the best there is. I've already healed Jin. I'm a natural! Isn't that right, Priestess Arna?”
Arna nodded and smiled, humoring her newly acquired apprentice.
“Of course you are,” said Ayn with a smile. He wanted to pinch his cousin's cheek and spend time with her, being happy as only children can be, but this was a time of mourning. He knew bonding with his cousin would have to wait.
“Come on,” said Arna, guiding Iliya to follow her, “let us leave The Bodanya to his duties.”
Pouting, Iliya followed her and waved at Ayn as she left.
“She's adorable,” said Ayn.
“Easy for you to say!” scoffed Jin. “You haven't been fawned and fussed over by her like I have! She's a little devil in an angel's disguise!”
Greatly amused, Pei and Ayn grinned at each other. Turning to look at Meddhi, they both noticed he was once again staring at Ayn's medallion.
“Meddhi,” said Ayn, “what is it? Why do you keep looking at your gift to me?”
“I'm sorry,” said Meddhi, “but I can't help myself. I think I've remembered why I gave it to you on that specific day – the day you were supposed to officially become king. Ayn, that medallion is no ordinary piece of jewelry. It is something far greater. That red-colored gem is an ancient artifact, and is the key to Adin's true power. Ayn, I think you may be wearing a key... the key to The Great Adin!”
Ayn looked at Meddhi with a shocked expression. Why hadn't he told him this before his coronation? Why hold back such important information? Ayn wondered if this new version of his teacher was more forthcoming than his previous incarnation.
“We can't talk about it here,” said Meddhi, “but I need to tell you what I remember. Can we go somewhere private?”
Slowly nodding, Ayn wasn't entirely sure he was ready to hear what Meddhi's memory was conjuring from their past.
“I'm sorry, Pei,” said Ayn, “but this is important. We will catch up soon, I hope.”
“Of course,” Pei replied with a respectful nod. He was curious as to what Meddhi had remembered about the medallion, but he also knew it was not his place to demand they include him in their discussion. He hoped, however, that Ayn would eventually reveal what he'd learned at a later time. Considering the medallion would have been lost if Pei hadn't decided to visit that pawn shop on Xen, he felt he had the right to be included. Plus, even though so much had changed, he still wanted to believe there was a bond between all three of them, especially between him and Ayn.
Ayn looked at Jin and said, “I am glad you are doing well, and I am sure we will all see each other again at the funeral. Till then...”
With that, Ayn gave a sad smile, then left with Meddhi.
Turning to Pei, Jin quietly asked, “Does it feel strange?”
“Huh?” replied Pei.
“Does it feel strange being the ex-Lan of The Bodanya?”
“No,” said Pei with half-smile, “I'm actually quite proud of that fact, Jin.”
“He's so different now though.”
“Well,” said Pei, “so are you and I, and there's nothing wrong with that. We all change the way we must. We still carry the same souls though.”
“I don't know...” said Jin
with a confused brow, “I myself feel so different than I was before we were attacked and imprisoned. I feel as though I've learned how to be much stronger. My eyes were opened to the harsh truth of life and death, and I don't know if that naive boy I used to be is the same as who I am now. Do you know what I mean, Pei?”
Nodding, Pei put his hand on Jin's shoulder. “I know exactly what you mean, Jin, and I feel much the same. However, deep down, we are the same where it matters. Our hearts still beat with loyalty, and our dedication to each other remains true.”
“Yes,” replied Jin, “but... I feel so changed. I am no longer a priest without anger.”
“Don't fool yourself, Jin,” said Pei with a teasing smile. “You were always an angry boy, if I recall; always challenging our Lans and speaking your mind.”
Jin quietly snickered and said, “I was a foolish brat.”
“Maybe, but you also were, and still are, a strong young man who isn't afraid to question even the Gods themselves if it meant finding the truth. I am proud of you, Jin. You should be as well.”
“Really?” blinked Jin.
“Yes, really.”
“Well...” said Jin with a big smile, “if you really feel that way, then I would like you to take me on as a student of The Lirhan!”
Surprised, and a little tickled by Jin's enthusiasm, he smiled and said, “One thing at a time, my friend. First, you need to fully heal, and then-”
“I AM healed! I'm fine! You're the one who needs to heal, not me.”
“Well, alright, then I need to heal,” Pei said with a laugh. Then, after that, we'll see.”
“Don't you think I could be a good Lirhan warrior?”
“Yes, Jin, I do, it's just... I don't want you to rush into anything.”
“But isn't there about to be a war any moment now? I want to be ready, Pei!”
Realizing the harsh reality in Jin's words, Pei took a deep breath and said, “You're right. I fear war is inevitable at this point.”
“Then train me! You'll see, Pei, I will be a great warrior – like you are!”
Pei shuddered at being described that way, but he also felt a sense of pride.
“Yes, Jin, I am sure that you will be.”
Together, they stood in the infirmary, surrounded by the wounded and the weary.
It suddenly became clear to Pei that war was right around the corner and was unlikely to end in his, or anyone's lifetime.
Chapter 17: The Promise
General Raifar’s body found on Sirin near East Temple. Official cause of death unknown. Autopsy needed. Authorization required. Permission to escort body home to Kri.
Baran stared at the message on his wrist-communicator, re-reading it a few times before the weight of the words truly hit him.
It had been sent recently by Captain Jayse who had been left in charge of the rebuilding on Sirin. The timing of his message couldn’t have been any worse.
Despite feeling weak in his stomach and head, Baran sent a message in reply.
Permission granted.
It was a small, two-word reply, yet carried all of his pain within.
Alone in the King’s library, Baran tried to contain himself, but could no longer do it. After losing his king and father figure, then hearing that his biological one had officially died as well - both of them most likely killed by the same murderer - it was too much. He covered his face with his right hand and slid down the wall, cringing as he took shallow breaths, battling the tears that burned to come forth.
Baran was never a religious man. He didn’t believe in Gods, nor in a cosmic oneness like the Dei and the Dryndi taught. All he ever believed in was The Lirhan and Atlar’s strength as his king.
Growing up, his own father was nothing but an angry drunk who, when not ignoring him, seemed to blame him for his mother’s death, which came suddenly after childbirth. It created a vacuum inside of Baran’s soul at an early age, a hole that could never be filled, no matter how many women he tried to fill it with.
One of those women tried harder than any other to reach Baran’s heart, and unbeknownst to him, she was now secretly watching him from a corner of the room. Reese had come to the library for peace and quiet. She'd heard from the healers that Atlar was not doing well and would most likely not make it through the night. It was too painful for her to bear, so she hid in the library, assuming she would be able to cry without anyone noticing. She hadn’t expected Baran to join her with his own tears.
His desperate, contorted face alerted her Atlar was indeed now dead. She didn’t have any more tears left in her, however. Instead, she had the urge to hold Baran in effort to regain his inner hope.
Much to his surprise, Baran felt the soft touch of her hand on his shoulder. Looking up at her with desperate, glossy blue eyes, he thought he was dreaming when he saw her wavy red hair and rosy lips.
“Reese? What are you doing in here?” he sputtered, embarrassed and emotional.
“It’s alright,” she hushed as she knelt down to him. Gently, she placed her arms around his back and cradled his head into her bosom, which made him cry even harder.
“Oh Reese! He was like a father to me! A real father!”
“I know…” she whispered as she softly pet his back and rocked with him on the floor.
Surprisingly, Reese felt no past anger, resentment, or jealousy whatsoever anymore. All she felt was love and understanding for her ex-lover and best friend. She felt as if she could finally let all the pain of their past relationship go, and she now saw his soul for what it really was: beautifully strong, brave, and shining. She wondered why she couldn’t see it before, but she guessed it was because she had been so caught up in the act he played so well. As a teenager, she was in love with the act he portrayed, the ego driven, womanizing soldier routine, and it blinded her from seeing his true self.
“Baran, honey... it will be alright,” she cooed as she wiped the tears from his face.
“How?” he replied as he sobered up, looking at her with a doubting frown. “Kri has just lost our greatest king!”
“Yes, that’s true,” she said as she stroked the side of his dark, wavy bangs, “but the good news is Kri still has a great leader.”
“Who, me? Please... don’t make me laugh! I have no idea what I’m doing, Reese!”
“Neither did Atlar most of the time,” she replied with a half-smile, “and he did pretty amazing. Listen, Baran, you have what it takes to be one of the greatest leaders of all time. You are strong and brave and noble beyond most men. You've already led our people during this hard time, and I believe you will lead us into a new era of truth and freedom. You may not be a king like Atlar, but you will be Kri’s first, and possibly best, Prime Minister. I have the utmost faith in you, honey. Now, all you need is to have faith in yourself.”
“But…” he quietly replied in between sniffs, “I really hate politics!”
Unable to stop herself from laughing, Reese wrapped her arms around Baran’s neck, then kissed his cheek.
“Oh, you silly thing!” she said as she smiled at him. Suddenly, both of them felt a slight tingling in their bodies as they sensed a rekindling of their past passion.
About to kiss her with all his might, Baran was disappointed when Reese pulled back and quickly stood to her feet.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, still embarrassed as he wiped the tear stains from his face. “Did I offend you? I’m sorry, I’m just so upset right now and-”
“No, Baran,” she said, cutting him off, “it’s just that… I apparently still have feelings for you, and that’s not good.”
“It’s not?”
“No, it’s not!”
“Why not?” he said as he stood to his feet.
“Because I’m with Pei now!”
“Oh right… I forgot.”
Reese couldn’t help but laugh at his arrogance. “It’s funny…” she said, still laughing, “you never really change. Despite being a great leader and a goodhearted man, when it com
es to love, you still only think about yourself.”
“That’s not true, Reese. I’ve only ever been like this about you, and no one else.”
“Oh really?” she replied with a raised brow. “What about the princess? You seem to have quite the crush on Ona lately. Maybe you always had one, but could never get close to her before now.”
“You're mistaken, as usual. Ona is just a friend, and is quite taken. Besides, even if I had a crush, that’s all it was. No one will ever take your place in my heart, Reese. I could love a thousand times with a thousand different women, and not one of them will ever replace the passion you’ve left burning inside me.”
“Oh my Gods, Baran!’ she said with a grin, followed by a hearty laugh. “Not only will Kri get a brave leader, they will get a fine poet too.”
“I mean my words, Reese,” he said with a serious, furrowed brow. “You are so very special to me… and always will be.”
Reese smiled and picked up his hand, holding it tenderly. “You are special to me as well, honey. You will always be my first love and my hero growing up. But… it’s time to turn all that into friendship and nothing more.”
“I understand,” replied Baran, nodding with a sad smile. “I don’t think it’ll be too difficult to think of you as my friend since I believe you may be the best friend I’ve ever had. I hope we will always be close friends.”
“That, I can be for you, sweetheart. You have my vow, my dear… forever.”
Kissing his cheek softly, they both felt a serene calm wash over their souls. Feeling healed and able to deal with the future once again, they both smiled at each other, hoping to let go the confusion of the past.
--
“Ona?” whispered Ayn. “Are you awake?”
Slowly opening the door to her private quarters, which Ayn had been granted access to since returning from Sirin, Ayn quietly walked inside and searched for her in the candlelight.
“Ona?” he whispered again as he slowly entered her bedroom.
As he caught a glimpse of her in the dimly lit room, Ayn felt as if his heart might leap into his throat. Ona was laying on her bed in a silky white nightgown. Her soft bosom was slightly exposed with her arm hanging above her forehead. She looked to Ayn like a Goddess from above, a very tired goddess who had no choice but to fall to the physical realm for some much needed rest.