by Jasmine Walt
“To be mortal is the real deal.” Then, noticing their surprised faces, Uma adds in a voice dropping a few octaves, “Or haven't you got that through your stupid heads yet?”
Tiina gapes at her.
“Well? Why do you look so upset, Tiina?”
She hesitates. “Ah, well…”
Yudi speaks up. “She’s probably just happy to see me go. Isn’t that right, Tiina?” The trip so far has exhausted him and he can’t seem to get anywhere with Tiina, as if his back is to the wall. Perhaps this is the way to end it. If Tiina doesn’t want him, then he may as well find out what this goddess has to offer. I have nothing to lose.
“Is that what you think?” asks Uma, laughing without humour. “You sure don’t know much about the female of any species, do you?”
“Uh! What are you talking about?” Yudi pulls himself up to his full height, as if by doing so he could assert his masculinity in the overpoweringly female environment.
Then, upon hearing a thud behind him, he turns to see that Tiina has drawn her sword, letting the heavy black scabbard drop to the ground. She assumes a fighting stance, holding the blade in her right hand and beckoning to the goddess with the left. He can only stare in surprise, having expected her to laugh and bid him goodbye, leaving him for the goddess to do with him as she wanted. This response is quite the opposite and it leaves him befuddled.
Uma continues, but this time directs her conversation to Tiina. “I am only asking that he stay with me upon your return. He can come with you to save the universe, or whatever makes you happy, but then have him back to me—forever.”
“N-o…w-a-y!” Tiina enunciates every single syllable. Then she glances at Yudi with a glint in her eye. “Unless, of course, Yudi, you fancy staying back. After all, you do have a taste for women from other worlds, as I recall…”
Yudi frowns at her. This is no time for jokes. Rather than speak, he tries to signal with his eyes, looking from Tiina to Uma and back again. “I am still here, you know.” He vainly tries to draw their attention back to himself. When they don’t pay him any attention, he says, “You are kidding, right?”
Barely are the words out of his mouth when the goddess says in a voice descending an octave and growing deeper by the second, “Well then, mortals, don’t blame me for what happens next.”
He looks on, his mouth agape as the goddess pulls a trident from thin air and rushes at Tiina.
She waits until the goddess is almost upon her, but before she can move, Yudi is there and takes the full brunt of the first thrust from her trident. A line of fire burns his right side where the weapon has pierced him, and he holds it with both hands and watches in fascination as blood spurts out, flowing over his fingers and staining his clothes.
“Ah! You stabbed me.” Yudi realises he has just spoken, though it seems to be coming from a long distance away.
Then, Rai intervenes, pulling at Yudi. “I suggest we get out of the way. Let the girls fight it out.”
“You are joking.” Yudi tries to protest, but in his wounded state, he is no match for Rai, who half drags him to a safe distance.
With him out of the way, the two turn on each other. Tiina blocks Uma’s next thrust. They are all over the place, moving so fast that his eyes can barely follow them. A blinding flash results every time their weapons clash.
Rai tears a strip of cloth from the bottom of his linen trousers and ties it around Yudi’s waist and chest, just above the wound, stemming the flow. Yet, Yudi barely notices, completely entranced by the fight.
The length of time between the clashes reduces until it is almost one continuous flow of light so brilliant that Yudi has to put up a hand to shield his eyes from the glare. Suddenly, the sounds stop. When he lowers his palm, the two of them are circling again, both panting hard.
Sweat pours down Tiina’s forehead and she holds her free left hand to her right side, where Uma has managed to slash her with the trident.
Uma’s lips are curled in a devious smile, and she is enjoying the fight.
The two rush at each other, meeting in midair with a resounding clash. This time they are both trapped in a twister, which descends out of nowhere and lifts them up so that they disappear while fighting.
Yudi and Rai follow the arc of the twister and break into a run, Yudi’s wound slowing him down, to where it has landed about fifty metres ahead in the direction of the forest.
When they arrive, they find Tiina flat on her back, still holding her sword. Her clothes are torn further, and her hair is in complete shambles. Ragged breath escapes her in wheezes and her eyes are shut. Forgetting his pain, Yudi bends over her, reaching out to touch her face. He jerks back as her eyes open, and electricity sizzles between them when their gazes meet.
“Uma?”
Still unable to speak, the breath coming out in pants, Tiina points up to where they can see the tail of a comet disappear into the horizon. “ G-o-n-e.”
Rai exclaims, “You beat a goddess!”
His words barely penetrate the moment that Yudi and Tiina are trapped in. The pain in his side forgotten, Yudi holds out his hand in silence. When she grasps it, he pulls her to her feet and higher, so that for a second she is dangling, her legs barely touching the ground, and then she wraps her hands around his neck and her feet around his waist for support, the sword still clutched in her right hand behind his back.
“Careful with that sword,” Yudi says, his face serious, not able to explain what he feels right then, except that there is nowhere else he wants to be but in that field at the edge of the forest with her.
In reply, she brings the sword between them and holds it to his neck, unsmiling. Yudi leans forward, not caring if the sword cuts him, and kisses her. He is pleased when Tiina kisses him back fiercely. They finally break apart, gasping for breath.
Still holding her, Yudi walks. Adrenaline drains out of her as her hand goes limp. He reaches between them to take the sword and passes it to Rai, who trails behind him, with the scabbard she dropped earlier. As Tiina rests her head on his shoulder, her breathing slows. A tenderness he has never experienced before runs through him and he kisses her forehead.
Artemis materialises again in front of them. Taking this as a sign to move on, Yudi follows her, still holding Tiina, with Rai bringing up the rear. Her body jerks a little as she relaxes and dozes off. After about ten minutes of walking, he stumbles on a slight outcropping, waking her.
“Sorry.”
The earlier encounter has left her drained, and her exhaustion resonates in her heavy voice. “It’s okay. Let me down; I should walk, anyway.”
Yudi places her down carefully, maintaining his hold on her. When he is confident she can stand on her own, he clasps her hand, leading her forward. With his other hand, he holds his side, where the pain from the wound has faded, numbed by the blood circulation slowing down, thanks to Rai’s crudely applied tourniquet.
19
Rai follows Yudi and Tiina, with Tiina’s blade in its scabbard, which he now wears on his back. The earlier events have somewhat bemused him, but he is pleased that his two best friends have made up.
They look so cute together. He glances to where they are walking and can make out Artemis leading the way, though she is far ahead of them. Silence descends for a while. The sun bathes him in a warm glow, and he relaxes his arms and shoulders, glad for the warmth.
Soon they are walking through the forest and climbing the foothills of the mountain. Rai scans the trees and the surrounding scenery. The ground slopes upward, yet the trees growing here are massive.
Something is not quite right, he thinks, and realises it is because he would have associated trees like this with flat ground. As they continue hiking, though, the ground slopes quite steeply, and becomes covered with the needle-like leaves from the tall giants growing there. The trees are at least a hundred metres tall and tower into the sky, as if celebrating life.
Their footsteps are hushed by the green carpeted ground. The roots of the t
rees are monstrous, twisted, and he has to step carefully around them to avoid tripping. The trees themselves must be many hundreds, if not thousands of years old. Wind whispers through the leaves, and just as he begins to enjoy it, the breeze dies down, so that there is complete silence.
There are no birds; isn’t that strange?
Barely has the thought occurred when without warning the sun hides behind the clouds, darkness descends, and the breeze picks up. The wind blows faster and faster, howling into a tornado. A snowstorm slams into them out of nowhere.
“Over there!” Rai screams to be heard over the gale, and gestures at them to follow as he makes his way through the biting sleet toward a large banyan tree just ahead.
They tie the massive roots around their waists, holding onto the solid trunk. Tiina grabs Artemis to stop her from being thrown around in the wind and her grasp on the tree slides. “Yudi! Rai! Help me!”
Yudi reaches for her and pulls her back to safety. The three of them embrace in death’s grip, shutting their eyes against the elements. Then the wind picks up another notch and pulls the tree’s roots free of the Earth with a loud whoosh.
Rai yells as he hurtles through the air, up through the layers of the atmosphere, and through space—past meteors, stars, the rings of a planet; shooting stars cross his path so closely that their fiery starburst tails miss him by inches. On and on the journey goes, and he travels past apparitions of monsters, which loom out of nowhere, brushing him, some even hitching a ride with them briefly. Memories of old descend on him— old ghosts of dead parents, lost first loves, previous lifetimes of pain, anguish, war, misery, and loss. He is trapped in his own private hell, until writhing in misery, tears stream down his cheeks. When he can cry no more, utterly spent and completely numb, he closes his eyes.
After a few minutes in that position, Rai senses the wind dying down. Unsteady from the previous rush, he opens his eyes cautiously. Not able to let go of the roots to which he is clinging, he tightens his grip.
Then there is a soft touch on his face and he moans, not yet ready to face reality.
“It’s okay,” says a soft-spoken woman.
He opens his eyes to see a woman of amazing peace, grace, and beauty, tall and beautiful, her dark bluish-black hair falling in long braids that almost reach her knees.
“Oh no!” he moans. “Another disgruntled goddess!” He closes his eyes and grips the tree roots even more firmly.
“It is okay,” she repeats. The words sound reassuring and real and flow over him like a gentle stream.
Looking at her, he feels more hopeful. “Who are you?”
“I am Ishtar, the protector. I mean no harm. Follow me.”
He trails after her as if in a trance. Where Uma had been curvaceous, Isthar is all long, lean, graceful lines. Golden robes that shine in an unearthly way garb her from head-to-toe. Part of the robe is draped over her hair and held in place with blue sapphire studded pins, which match the rows of turquoise beads draped around her neck. Her eyes, when she turns to beckon to him, are also a piercing blue. In her right hand she holds a device, which looks like a wand attached to an eight-pointed star. She leads him a few feet away and points with the wand to the distance.
The clouds part so that he can peer through the clearing they create. On the horizon, there shimmers a shape that resembles a rough pyramid. Mist floats all around it. The scene is so serene, perfect, and quiet. Every single object seems marked out clearly in relief, its outline glowing in unearthly light.
“The Eye-Mountain!” he exclaims.
“Yes! And the next stage of your journey.”
“And you don’t want anything in return, right?”
“Not at all. You must be hungry.”
As she mentions it, Rai realises that he has not eaten in days. In fact, he has no recollection of his last meal.
She leads him into the woods to a clearing that appears out of nowhere. In the clearing are a table and two chairs, almost as if she had been expecting company. Right next to it is a tinkling water fountain.
The table is rectangular, made of some transparent material, which glows. It holds the plates and goblets lovingly in its grasp, and is set with dishes of different shapes and sizes laden with food. There is a crystal wine glass next to each chair, filled to the brim with a liquid he assumes to be wine.
Everything is as it should be, yet there is something different about the scene, some niggling detail, which he cannot quite pin down. The entire setup is light, ethereal, and floating a few inches off the ground. As soon as the realisation strikes, the table, chairs and the fountain lift off in one go, and the soaring notes of an aria fill the air. It is as gentle as the first raindrops pattering onto leaves. The music is muted and the entire effect is very much similar to a luxurious restaurant at the end of the galaxy.
“All the comforts of home, eh?” jokes Rai.
“You are home.”
Surprise takes him. “It may be home to you, but I can assure you that where I come from, this is more like Heaven.”
“Heaven and hearth, is there much difference between the two?”
“You mean Heaven and Earth?”
“No Heaven and hearth.”
“Ah! A goddess with a sense of humour!”
“Yes, where I come from I am known for my jokes.”
“The Goddess of Small Puns?”
“I wouldn’t go that far, now,” she says, “but let’s just say that I am better humoured since, unlike others, I am one of those who did not lose touch with my inner mortal.”
“I should be grateful that you found me, then, shouldn’t I?”
“You could have done worse! Eat now.”
Rai takes his seat on one side of the rectangular table. The goddess sits down on the other. With gusto, he tears into the food, not realising how hungry he actually is, and soon has finished more than half the food on the table. He looks up to find Ishtar watching him.
“Aren’t you eating?”
She shakes her head. “We spirits do not get hungry. We can’t eat.”
He pauses, the food on his fork midway between plate and mouth, and asks, “You mean you’ve never tasted all this?”
“No. I can find enjoyment in yours, though.”
Rai is tempted to say something more, but there does not seem much point, and the meal is calling out to him. He pauses to pour himself more red wine and turns back to the plate of potatoes, meat, sauces, curry, and rice, devouring everything on the table. Finally feeling quite satisfied, he puts down his fork, leans back, and sighs with contentment.
“Coffee? A smoke?” she asks.
Rai feels that he should at least act surprised by her question, but decides to go with the flow. She sets a humidor in front of him and pours him coffee out of a silver flask.
“Cuban, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoes her, wondering why it did not surprise him more. Rai lights up and puffs. After a few drags, he sighs and says, “So, now that we are over the formalities, let’s get down to the real thing. Why are you meeting me now?”
“I’ve been waiting here a long time.”
“All of you gods say the same thing.”
“Don’t you believe me, Rai?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that—”
“Look!” She shows him a flurry of images.
Seasons change. Various people come and go, yet she is the only constant, always in frame, appearing ageless, beautiful, and unchanging. No emotions show on her face. She stands rooted in time, and only the clothes she wears change, reflecting the decade she is in, giving clues to the avatars she has taken over the ages. The shifting scenes gather speed until he feels drawn into a vortex against his will and is forced to take a step back.
Rai gapes at her with dawning comprehension, only slightly stunned. “You would think I am used to these crazy trips,” he says, speaking softly, almost to himself. “Okay, so you did wait for me. What do you want?”
“You mean the Goddess of Love?”
“Yes, but alas poor Uma…no longer that loving, is she? Having given of her love to so many people, she wanted a little for herself and made the mistake of getting involved.”
“Is that wrong?”
“Afraid so. It is the beginning of the end. Once she loses her heart, her power starts to weaken.”
“Oh, really?”
“The heart is the power centre. It holds the key to life. Am I making sense?”
“You do talk funny, but I sort of follow you. You mean, lose your heart and lose your world? That kind of thing?”
“Yes! Why do you think men never really give away their hearts easily? They seem to think it weakens you, but you know it makes you stronger.”
“Are you sure? Every time I fall in love, I feel terrible.”
“That’s because you chose the wrong person each time.”
“You are quite clued in!”
“So I am told by many of you lost souls. Though, you are somewhat different.”
“I know. The missing links, the saviours, we have been called various names. But all we’ve done is move from adventure to adventure. It is not as if we get hurt, either.”
“Careful,” Ishtar warns. “Don’t tempt fate.”
He chuckles. “Thanks for the advice, though.”
“I do want something from you.”
Uh-oh! Here it comes. “Just as I am beginning to like you…”
“Relax, now. I don’t want much. Just promise me something.”
“A promise?”
“A promise that when you reach your destination, you will not let Yudi give into the final temptation.”
“And if I do?”
“Well, then, it’s not going to do any good for any of us.”
“And the fate of the world lies in my hands now, I suppose?”
“It’s actually Yudi’s hands, but you play a key role in helping him get there.”
He lifts and lowers a shoulder. “It’s not like I have a choice, right? So let’s get a move on.”