“They have all lost control,” Gemynd mused.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Soman said, raising his eyebrows. “After all they’ve lost, a grand celebration is exactly what they need.”
Gemynd felt stiff and awkward as both Soman and Numa let the music carry their bodies into dancing bliss. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let himself forget responsibility, forget duty. It must have been ages ago.
Gemynd looked up at the dais. The sunlight was fading fast, but torches had been lit all around. From their glow, Gemynd saw a familiar figure on the dais. It was his father, standing alone, looking down on the people. He, too, looked rigid and out-of-place at such a celebration. Would that be Gemynd in twenty years? Always coolly in control?
But as Gemynd watched, another figure emerged onto the dais: Gemynd’s mother. Golath turned at her arrival and smiled. They talked closely for several moments before Golath reached up and placed his hand on Molly’s cheek. She did not pull away, but tipped her chin up in invitation. Gemynd saw his father waste no time in accepting and he pulled Molly into a deep kiss.
Gemynd looked away then and met Numa’s gaze who motioned with a single finger for him to join her. “I will not waste twenty years, nor even another moment, not living my life with you,” he said to her and grabbed a cup from a passing tray. He downed the potent contents in a single swallow and joined the dance.
Numa
Numa opened her eyes slowly and stretched. She was lying on her side and could feel Gemynd’s familiar body against her back, his arm draped over her shoulder. But what she wasn’t expecting to see was Soman’s naked body sprawled out before her. It was truly a thing of beauty, a work of the Deis.
Why was he there? she wondered for a moment before hazily recalling the events of the night before. There had been strong drink and dancing and clothes coming off. Numa looked down at her own body, realizing that it was barren of a single thread of fabric. She thought about instantly creating a dress to cover herself, but instead let herself enjoy the pleasure of her skin touching both Gemynd and Soman at the same time. She knew she would never have the opportunity again.
After only another blissful moment, Gemynd rolled to his back, taking his arm off of her and leaving her feeling very exposed. Numa peeked over her shoulder at him and saw that he was still fast asleep. It was an exquisite sight to see his handsome face in peaceful repose, and such a rarity that Numa stared at him until her neck ached and she was forced to turn back around.
She let herself take in Soman’s beauty one more time, and then willed herself to the bank of the Laxus river not far away. Although the river was as old as Todor itself, its path was new after the flood. The banks were sharp, the water murky as it snaked through the valley looking for a new course.
Numa could tell by the silvery light in the sky that it was very early morning. Everything was quiet now. The music had died down in the deep hours of the night, and most of the people slept.
Numa inhaled sharply as she stepped into the cold water, then closed her eyes and allowed its power to wash her body. She held her breath and dipped her head below the water, letting it run through her hair and prickle her cheeks. She stayed under for several moments, listening to the song of the river. It was an ancient song, rhythmic and haunting. It was a song that was born before time, one that knew of the creation of Todor.
Numa smiled as she emerged from the water, watching her skin bump up in the cool air. Just as she was about to begin shivering, she willed herself dry and dressed in a plain kirtle with a thin, grey woolen cloak. She looked back towards Tolnick and could sense that the others still slept, so she sat down at the base of an old absterge and leaned back against its soft trunk. The roots of the old tree ran too deep, and its water-filled branches were too flexible, to be moved by the flood. “Strong, yet yielding,” she mused aloud. “A noble use of power indeed.”
Numa smiled to herself as she thought about the previous few days. There had been great suffering and great loss. Yet the peace council was a success. Gemynd was now Director of Iturtia. He and Soman were as close as brothers again. Everything seemed at last to be falling into perfect order.
And even with all of that, Numa’s favorite part had been when Gemynd insisted they go to Nocturiya. His fierce hunger for her was something that would always delight her.
Numa willed a small amount of water from the river to jump into her cupped hand. She was suddenly thirsty and the cold water was just what she needed. As she poured the water into her mouth, she noticed the Great Carus and her two offspring approach the opposite side of the river. Numa stood and watched the three of them cross the river right towards her. But they did not step into the water, they stepped just above it.
Numa bowed deep at their arrival. “You honor me,” she said, then stood to find Radine, Gracewyn and Felyse standing before her. They bowed in return.
“You look deliciously Joyful this morning, daughter,” Felyse said and pulled Numa into an embrace.
“I am Joyful and most content,” Numa replied, hugging her back. “All that I have wished for has come to be.”
None of the women made a reply, but sat down beneath the absterge tree as Numa had only moments before. Numa watched them warily, realizing that they would not all have come for a simple, pleasant visit. No, there was surely a reason for their appearance and Numa had a feeling she was not going to like it.
“What is it?” she asked and ungracefully sat on the ground before them.
“The Deis have given you a great gift,” Radine said. “And you have squandered it.”
“Perhaps ‘squander’ is a bit strong,” Felyse said quickly.
Gracewyn reached out and squeezed Felyse’s hand. “No, she must hear the truth,” she said, then faced Numa. “You have been most careless, daughter.”
Numa felt her eyes widen and her throat constrict. Her eyes burned with the start of tears. “What did I do?” she asked. “I did not mean to offend the Deis.”
“Did the Deis not show you your heart’s true desire when you asked? And did they not tell you how to create it?” Radine asked.
Numa vividly recalled every moment of her encounter with the Deis. She remembered every image, every word, in perfect clarity. “I saw my heart’s desire and then they told me to begin by removing my greatest obstacle, which I did,” she said, searching her mind for anything she could have done wrong. “And then I set about doing what I could to make my vision a reality.”
“You are not a child anymore, daughter,” Gracewyn said sternly. “Use your wisdom. You are an Empyrean woman. Remember who you are and what you have been taught.”
“I truly don’t know what I have done wrong,” Numa said, her bottom lip beginning to tremble. She pressed it hard against her upper lip to still it. Her mother was right: it was time for her to grow up and stop behaving like a child. This was a time for wisdom, not tears. “No, I do know. I only need to remember.”
Numa relived her time with the Deis and then carefully traced her steps up to the present moment. And still, she could not find her error.
“I need your help,” she said, looking at her hands folded in her lap. “I do not see where I went wrong. I truly did not intend to be ungrateful to the Deis.”
“Tell me, Numa, what do you perceive here?” Radine asked, sweeping her arm towards Tolnick.
“I see Tolnick, Todor’s capital city,” she began.
“Do you?” Radine interrupted. “Is that truly what you see?”
Numa looked again and realized the truth of the matter. “I see the ruins of the city that was once Tolnick,” she said quietly.
“And here?” Radine asked, sweeping her arm in the opposite direction.
“I see a valley destroyed by the flood,” Numa answered, feeling strangely guilty for it.
“Now tell me again what you saw in your vision of your heart’s desire,” Radine continued.
Numa sighed and closed her eyes. “I saw all of Todor lush and fer
tile. The people across the land were Joyful and at peace. Prosperity and abundance was in every corner. It was as though all of Todor had become just as Aerie had once been, only better. And then I saw myself standing at the top of the keep with Soman and Gemynd by my side. We were together and Gemynd kissed me. The people were happy and cheered.”
“Tell me, Numa, is your vision the same as what you perceive now?” Radine asked.
Numa shook her head, but said nothing else.
“And do you truly not know why this is so?” Radine asked.
Again, Numa shook her head. “I thought I was working towards creating the Todor of my vision,” she said. “I do not know why it is still so different.”
“Because you abandoned your creation, Numa,” Radine said in a curt tone. “You gave it away.”
“I did?” Numa asked, wide eyed.
“You encountered someone who proposed an idea; someone who was willing to put in effort to see it through. And you stepped back and let him have your creation,” Radine said, seeming to grow angrier with each moment. “What you perceive here is a cankerous mixture of the creation you began and the one in Keeper Sam’s mind. It is abominable!”
“My daughter, the point is that you gave up on your own creation the moment someone else offered to do it for you,” Felyse said, patting the back of Numa’s hand.
“Do you recall the eighth Truth?” Gracewyn asked.
“Of course,” Numa replied. She had known the Truths since she was a very young girl. “To exert power over another or to take power from another or to give up your own power is to make a choice that disrupts the Oneness of Life.”
“You see, my dear, you chose to give up your power when you let Sam take the lead,” Gracewyn explained.
“I did not realize that’s what I was doing,” Numa said. “I did not yet know how to begin creating Todor as I saw it and I thought Keeper Sam’s idea of the peace council sounded worthwhile. I thought it was a step towards what I wanted to create. Are you saying the peace council is a bad idea?”
Gracewyn chuckled. “It’s a fine idea,” she said. “But it is not yours. It belongs in someone else’s perception.”
“Do you remember when we spoke to you of the darkness inside of you?” Felyse asked. “When we explained that the Oneness of Life means your own Oneness?”
“I remember,” Numa answered.
“When you give away your power, you fracture the very Lifeforce within you,” Felyse continued. “It disrupts your Oneness and the result can only be suffering.”
“I guess I had thought there would be some flexibility in all of this and that maybe there were things in my vision that were more symbolic than literal,” Numa said.
“You did not think that until Keeper Sam suggested it,” Radine said, and Numa recalled the conversation she’d had in Zoban with Sam. He was, indeed, the one who said her vision might be symbolic. “Furthermore, Numa, you must always remember that you are Empyrean. For Terrenes to go about creating the lives they desire, they would need to be flexible and willing to try different things to see what works. But an Empyrean sees clearly. An Empyrean knows Truth.”
“But I didn’t see clearly,” Numa protested. “I did not know the best course of action.”
“The Deis told you exactly what to do,” Radine argued.
“They only told me how to begin. They told me to remove my greatest obstacle,” Numa said. “I did that and then was unsure how to proceed from there.”
Radine exchanged a knowing look with Numa’s mothers. “You must start over and reclaim your creation,” she said. “You will be responsible for the deaths of everyone in Todor if you do not.”
Numa felt the blood drain from her face. “Why?” she asked, horrified. “Why would it mean that everyone would die?”
“If an Empyrean begins a creation and then abandons it, the creation will destroy itself,” Radine explained matter-of-factly. “The destruction of yours is already well underway. Did you think it was merely coincidence that there was mass destruction everywhere you went? Really, it began with Aerie, even before you were aware of your creation. Yet even then your choice was to give it away. Not to Sam, but to Gemynd and Soman and the other Keepers of Aerie and anyone else willing to hold on to their own power. But now, now you have fires, earthquakes, and floods. My dear, until you reclaim your creation, you will continue to destroy Todor.”
“Gemynd destroyed Aerie,” Numa argued and stood up, her fists clenched tight. “I saw him do it. I do not accept that was my doing! And I did not bring the fires nor the earthquakes nor the flood. I may have a darkness within me, but I am not a destroyer! Do not make me carry the responsibility of the deaths of all those people. My heart cannot bear it!”
“You are responsible for it, Numa!” Radine shouted, becoming an enormous blue mist that towered over Numa. “Until you accept it, you will not stop it. You will continue to cause suffering, mostly your own. This is what true maturity means: accepting that you, alone, are responsible for everything that you perceive.”
Numa felt her whole body tremble and she could do nothing to stop it. Tears rolled freely down her cheeks now. “I don’t want to cause destruction!” she shouted.
“My darling, it is all fine,” Felyse said, pulling Numa against her breast. “We have all had to come to this same understanding. Choosing your Oneness is not always easy.”
“Perhaps I can help you expand your perception,” Gracewyn offered. “An Empyrean can only create. Truly it is our only power. Whatever else it may look like, it is always just an act of creation. When it appears that we travel through time and space, really we are creating a new reality to perceive. This is why you cannot force the will of others. You can only create your own perception. Likewise, what appears to be destruction is also just an act of creation. When the flood came, did it leave behind a void of nothingness?”
Numa only blinked in response, unsure of her mother’s meaning.
“No, Numa, with the flood came a new perception,” Gracewyn said, answering her own question. “You can look at it as destruction, and you can also look at it as a new creation.”
“But people died!” Numa argued. “Surely the ending of Life is destruction.”
“There is no end to Lifeforce,” Radine said. “Surely you know that.”
“Also remember the fifth Truth: the Deis gifted all of Life with the power of choice,” Felyse said. “When you let Keeper Sam take the lead in your creation, the power you gave away was your power of choice. When you do that, creation happens outside of your choosing. This will always lead to suffering. To stop the suffering, reclaim your power and reclaim your creation.”
“How do I reclaim it?” Numa asked, desperate to end the suffering. She could not go on with the guilt of having ended so many lives.
“Begin again,” Radine explained simply. “Right now. Remove your greatest obstacle then create the Todor of your vision. Do not compromise.”
Numa nodded. “I will do it right now,” she said. “I reclaim my creation this instant.”
“Repeat it back to me,” Radine said. “What are you going to do?”
Numa glanced back at Tolnick as the smells of cooking fires began to fill the air. “Remove my greatest obstacle then create the Todor of my vision without compromise,” she repeated, but as the words left her mouth, she felt confused again. “But, wait, I have already removed my greatest obstacle. The wealth of Aerie is right here in my pocket. I have already done that step, haven’t I?”
Numa looked back at the three women for an answer only to find that they were gone. “Please come back,” she said to the empty air. “For I am now more confused than ever.”
Numa waited by the riverbank for several moments. When it was clear that they were not coming back, she sighed and returned to Tolnick.
As Numa entered the city square, she saw that most of the people were beginning to rise. There was a sluggishness in the air as people struggled with their bodies’ reactions to th
e drinks of the night before.
She looked over to where she had been sleeping and saw that Gemynd was now standing, clumsily pulling on his breeches. He saw her at the very same moment and gave her a sheepish grin.
“Joyous day, my love,” Numa said, trying to keep her voice steady and not appear as shaken as she felt.
“Hmmmm,” Gemynd groaned in response. “My stomach is at war with itself. I feel hungry and sick all at once.”
“Let me heal you,” Numa whispered and placed her hand on his bare stomach. She noticed then that his new brand was beginning to look green around the edges and it was oozing a yellowish fluid. The blisters on the surface of it were turning black before her eyes. “Let me heal all of you.”
Gemynd glanced down at his chest. “That one must scar,” he said. “I will bear it as every Director before me has borne theirs. But I will happily take your healing for my stomach. Thank you, my love.”
“Can I get you some water?” Numa asked, not feeling satisfied with only healing his stomach. She knew the brand was causing Gemynd great pain and she hated standing by helplessly and allowing it.
“I would love some water, thank you,” he said.
Numa made a big wooden cup, filled with cold Iturtian water, appear in her hand. “Drink slowly,” she said as she handed it to him.
“Joyous day,” Keeper Sam said as he walked up. “I have been looking for Soman, but I see my search is over.”
Numa glanced down to see that Soman still slept, his naked body splayed proudly for everyone to see. “I believe he enjoyed himself last night,” she said and glanced at Gemynd who was pulling his tunic over his head.
“I believe everyone enjoyed themselves last night,” he said as his head poked through the neck hole.
“Awaken, Soman, I have your tea,” Keeper Sam said and Soman groaned in response. “It has been well over an hour since your last dose. Drink this and I will leave you be for another hour.”
Disintegration: The Todor Trilogy, Book Two Page 25