“Isn’t it obvious? We are going to look for the Jewel.”
Shera slammed the container on her table, bits of porridge flew out of the rim. A small blot of congee found its way to the border of Andel’s scroll. He gave out a shout and brushed away the food from the scroll before rolling it up.
“Maan’s feet, Shera! Be careful! I spent the whole night conceptualizing that diagram!”
Shera did not care. Andel had crossed the line, and they were back in the argument. He stuffed the scroll back into his satchel, mumbling under his breath.
“You can’t be fucking serious. If you dig up the Jewel of Maan, it might spoil the entire ecosystem that is Sedayval! That very Jewel powers this city!”
“We aren’t going to do anything with it, Shera. We just want proof of its existence. Why should the High Priestess be the only one who knows of its location?”
“You are jealous,” Shera realized. “You want to harness its powers too.”
“There is no reason that those undergoing Priestesshood should be the only ones who can channel the Jewel’s power. If it is a thaumaturgic element, it is the property of everybody in Sedayval!”
“It is your property, you selfish bastard. The Jewel ensures that you have a life in this city! It provides all the necessities we need. We as the acolytes and priestesses, are the vessels of the Jewel’s power. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“No. As long as the power remains in the High Priestess’s grasps, we will all be mere puppets. Why should we blindly believe in Maan’s existence, Shera?”
“Because Maan exists!” Shera exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “What more proof do you want?”
“I want to see the Jewel of Maan with my own eyes,” Andel admitted angrily. Once he started arguing, the vein on his left temple throbbed, mimicking the rise in his emotions. “I want to be given the right to channel its powers! It isn’t fair that only those in the Priestesshood are allowed that privilege.”
“So, this is a matter of privilege then?” Shera asked, incredulous. “The Priestesshood is only allowed for Sedayvalian girls, Andel. If you want it so bad, go for a sex change!”
“You are not a native Sedayvalian,” Andel countered, slamming a hand on the table.
“Tread carefully,” Shera’s voice became hushed.
Andel hesitated for a moment at the icy coldness of Shera’s warning. Gathering his thoughts, he took a deep breath and continued. “Well, it is true. Your father is Sedayvalian, but your mother wasn’t. As far as lineages go, my parents were both born here!”
The small chirps of birds could be heard from outside her window. It was the season of spring and the Willow Tail bird, a rare breed of birds that often laid its eggs at high altitudes, found a comfortable home in the very floating city. Its chirps were languid, described to be the melting ice in the north, melancholy yet cheerful. The chirps continued outside as Shera fought to keep her temper in check. It had been a rough couple of months between her and Andel.
When she had first met Andel, she had found his curiosity for knowledge to be interesting. Andel’s curiosity infected her, and she began questioning the teachings of Maan. But never once did her faith in the Goddess waver. In Andel and many academicians of Sedayval, however, there was a slow but pernicious movement to slowly disassociate themselves from the teachings of Maan.
The only connection Maan had with Sedayval was the Jewel she left behind and her Vessels; the Young Acolytes, Priestesses and High Priestess Iktai. Their reverence for Maan allowed the Jewel to continue its functionality. Without the women in Sedayval, the Jewel would cease to function, and the huge mass of land would come crashing down onto the earth, killing the hundreds of thousands of people living in Sedayval.
Andel chose not to answer her question, but the maddening look of superiority on his face told Shera all she needed to know. He stood up.
“I don’t want us to argue, Shera.”
Shera’s eyes flashed with anger. She rose from her chair and approached Andel. Slightly taller than him, her white-grey eyes weren’t the only souvenirs from her mother. Shera also exhibited the Shandorian people’s tall, and burly physical characteristics. Her body was not built like a beautiful vase’s, with narrow shoulders and wide hips. Her upper body was quite built, and her breasts, though generous, weren’t too decoratively beautiful on the wide upper frame of her body. Her hips were inadequately wide to warrant the attention of the men in Sedayval. It was one of the reasons Andel had fallen for her.
She was atypical, and she was strong minded and opinionated. Ironically, the very same things he found attractive in her were now extremely off-putting.
“Listen here, Andel. I have never insulted your pathway into Academia.”
“Because mine is the path of truth,” Andel said, unable to contain his smirk. “You cannot argue with facts, Shera!”
He prodded her head with the tip of his index finger, a habit he usually exhibited when he wanted to drive home a point. Often, Shera found it amusing. But today, Andel had crossed the line. She slapped his hand away by the wrist. Her action surprised Andel, for Shera had never been a person to show her vulnerability. The look of poorly contained rage was etched on her angular face.
“Get out,” she seethed.
“Shera…”
“Out!” Shera screamed.
The rise in the tone of her voice stupefied Andel for a second. Recovering from his being stunned, he let out a small sigh and removed his glasses. The eyes that Shera had once thought belied intelligence and respect were merely brown, rude and unrecognizable anymore.
What brought out the change in behavior in Andel? she wondered.
He proceeded to move to the front door without hesitation. His gait was lubricated by her furious emotions, and it was evident that he wanted to make his exit.
“You must have noticed it too,” he said, leaning a hand against the architrave of the door. “People are beginning to lose faith in Maan. It is rampant amongst the academicians.”
Shera’s body trembled. She was overcome with a sudden desire to fling a ceramic mug at Andel’s retreating figure. It was too late. He was out the door, leaving her with her own confused thoughts.
Chapter 4: Festival
The Festival of Providence was soon upon Sedayval. As it was customary, the people of Sedayval kept their doors open, as a sign that their homes were open to the visitors from the foreign lands.
As the entire population gathered in the central square, the huge portal in the middle of the town linking to the lower Earth glowed lazily, beams of light shining up to the heavens. High Priestess Iktai stood on the ledge of her palace wall parapets, and addressed the ground below, her voice magnified by magic.
“My people of Sedayval, today marks the three hundredth Festival of Providence!”
Loud cheers followed the High Priestess’ announcement. Shera stood amongst the crowd in her daily clothes. Only a few Young Acolytes had been handpicked by High Priestess Iktai, to be the chaperones for their incoming guests. Shera had not expected to be chosen. But still, she was bristled, having been curious to see the newcomers from Shando region. The past day had been lonely for her. With the absence of her father on business in Enmei, and her still blazing argument with Andel, none of her Acolyte friends had come to visit. They were slowly beginning to disassociate themselves from Shera, not wanting to be seen with the odd one out.
“Maan, praise to our goddess, has been benevolent in providing to us the best of the best. Look at our civilization! Where else in the world can you find a city that floats close to the heavens,” she arced her hands across the star speckled skies. “We are truly the pinnacle of human achievement. And it is all praise to Maan.”
“Praise to Maan,” people bellowed beneath her.
Shera wondered if the High Priestess would address the arrival of the newcomers from Shando this year. Already, the rumors had been circulating that a delegate of fifty Shandos would come for the Festival of Pro
vidence this year. As though reading her thoughts, Iktai spoke.
“People of Sedayval, the Festival of Providence is a way for us, the believers of Maan, to accept our fellow humans, no matter where they come from. Maan reminds us, that it is our responsibility, our obligation to be her best representative! Do not let Maan down! Praise to her.”
The loud cheers continued as High Priestess Iktai took a deep breath. “The Festival will be our best one yet, where we will be met with newcomers, from the Shando region. For the first time in three hundred years, the Shandos have decided to join us!”
The shock rippled through the crowd like the flit of multiple pebbles across a layer of water. Though some clapped and cheered, others began talking, the hint of worry in their voices evident.
Iktai seemed to detect it too, from where she stood. And she did what most people in power would do in such distressing situations. Divert their attention.
“We will welcome them with open arms!” she said, as multiple fireworks flew abound wildly around her. The spatter of bright, dazzling colors exploded all around them in the night sky. The people ooohed and aahed, momentarily distracted by the display. Shera however, could not help but shake her head at such a display.
It was evident that the High Priestess was apprehensive of the visit by the Dragon Knights of Shando, but nothing could be done. The best was to ensure that the guards patrolled the cities extensively, and magic was kept to a bare minimum. Already, the sorcerers of Sedayval were commissioned to place a ring of magical nullification around the visitors, to prevent any unforeseen circumstances.
But would it work?
As the fireworks finished its last bang, it had done its job. People began clapping once more, smiles now returning to their inattentive minds and faces.
As the huge platform in the middle of the square increased the intensity of its glow, she screamed out for the people of Sedayval to welcome their visitors.
From the glowing platform, people began materializing out of thin air. The Jewel of Maan was able to transport large groups of people from lower Earth.
The first two hundred people transported into Sedayval were the representatives of many towns and cities of the northern Enmei region. Known for their sorcery, the delegates of Enmei were rightly dressed in the best witches and warlocks attire, floating orbs of magic accompanying their owners. Some also came with interesting beasts: gryphons, unicorns, and even a five-headed lynx with snow-white fur and sapphire spots. The delegates were accompanied by a few Acolytes and Priestess of Maan. Hazpo was one of them, deep in conversation with a fellow warlock from Enmei. They laughed and waved at the people of Sedayval who were parted to the side of the long square walkway, to accommodate the visitors.
After the people of Enmei walked through, they were succeeded by the people of Xera. It was easy to differentiate the Xeraians from the Enmeits. Living in a tropical climate, the Xeraians had a higher tendency to have tanned, darker skins. It was also clearly demarcated in the clothes they wore, lighter, and its cotton thinner. This region had its fair share of magic, but not in the kind that was of sorcery. Xeraians were the proudest of Elementalists, having the ability to shape random parts of the earth, soil, water, wind, air, metal, and even vacuum.
Legend has it that when Maan took over the first High Priestess Iktai’s body, she went to the oldest Elementalists in the world then, to learn of this occult, natural magic.
The Xeraians delegates were a slightly larger crowd than the Enmeits, and they had also included children. The nation, as an average, towered over the rest of the world. Long limbed and easy natured, the Xeraians wore smiles on their faces better than the Enmeits.
Though bristled by her circumstances, Shera was still quite happy to see the arrival of the visitors for the Festival of Providence. It had been one of the moments when she, her father and mother had spent together as a family. This was the first Festival her father had deliberately skipped. Apparently, he too must have been thinking of the significance of the festival to their family, too hurt by his wife’s passing to relive it.
As the Xeraians moved along the parade, the Sedayvalian crowds craned their heads once more at the platform in the middle of the square, the apprehension clearly demarcated on their faces. Everyone held their breath for the arrival of the third, and final representatives. The platform gave out a final glow of red and before dissipating. Everyone gasped.
On the elevated platform now stood a solitary figure, having been transported from lower Earth. Only one delegate had arrived from Shando.
His solitary presence unnerved the Sedayvalians who had been expecting a large crowd from the Eastern Region. Tall and muscular, he looked around at the subdued welcome, and made his way in the Xeraians and Enmeits’ wake. He wore his hair in a black ponytail. He walked with haughtiness, stirring some discomfort amongst the Sedayvalians.
His eyes fixed to the front, at High Priestess Iktai’s castle, where she stood at the parapet to welcome the delegates from the Northern, Southern and Eastern Region… It was clear that the High Priestess did not welcome him, for he was not afforded a chaperone.
His eyes, she thought to herself, as everyone around her continued cheering. Her own world fell silent, as her gaze fell upon the eyes of the Dragon Knight. Whitish with a tinge of silver, his eyes were the gloom of a mundane, cloudy day, though the intensity of their gaze belied a kind of rough, untamed passion. For the first time since her mother’s passing, Shera felt a strong bond with the Shandos. No one else in Sedayval had the blood of Shando except she, and her late mother. It had always made Shera feel like a foreigner in her own land.
She looked at the sky, wondering if her mother was with Maan, looking down at the parade with a smile on her face.
When her attention turned to this particularly tall Shando man, she had to do a double take. The tenseness on his face was clear from the way he wore his surly expression, but there was beauty in his eyes. His face was chiseled right down to the slight bluntness of his chin, but everything about his body denoted hard work and perseverance. He was muscular, though in the way that he was not a meathead who had to show his muscles off to everyone in the vicinity. Clad in a simple robe of ashen grey and white, it mimicked his eyes. When the wind blew against the parade, the garb pressed against his muscular pectorals and flat abdomen.
Multiple ruby studs lined along his ear, shining with dazzling alacrity as it caught the light of the Illuminating Orbs lining the streets. He seemed bored but kept with the usual expression, as though it was required. Shera was drawn to him by a certain unexplainable magnetism.
She pushed through the crowd at the fringe of the road to keep up with his steady gait as they moved towards the High Priestess’s palace. Alas, it was too difficult for Shera to permeate the crowd nearest to the palace gates, where the concentration of people was at its highest. By this time, the man and his fellow people from Shando had gone into the gates of the palace to meet with the High Priestess.
The hubbub of the crowd soon began to die down, as people began to move back to their homes. Doors would be kept open for the next week.
It was customary that after the delegates’ meeting with High Priestess Iktai, each of them could choose a house to occupy, where the hosts would treat them as they would their own family, their own Sedayvalian.
“I hope the Shandorian doesn’t stir up trouble here,” Shera heard one locale react to another.
“May Maan help the families who will have to accommodate that white-eyed freak,” another said with a sigh.
“Oh, no amount of blessing from Maan would make me able to see that pair of abominations.”
It was then the two realized that Shera was listening. At the sight of her whitish eyes and long, Un-Sedayvalian hair, they recoiled and began walking in the opposite direction.
Soon, the crowd that had stood at the sides of the streets began converging into the middle, to see what wares and good have also been brought by merchants from all over in the ce
ntral square. Many merchants were also present from all over the continent, taking advantage of the confluence of people from the festival.
Shera was left to her own thoughts when she heard someone calling out her name. Looking at the direction, she smiled. It was another Young Acolyte of Maan, Aishan. Aishan was the only friend Shera had in the court of Maan.
Aishan ran up to Shera, panting slightly, her hand settling on the taller woman’s shoulder for support.
“Did you… did you see the Shandorian? He has your eyes! Just as your mother had said before this!”
Shera smiled at Aishan’s comments. “I sure did. It feels a little weird to see another person with eyes like mine. All my life, it has always just been my mother and I.”
Aishan reached for a small bottle and pulled at the stopper. She drank a little Pruvane Wine before offering Shera some. The sweet, fermented cherry taste stirred a little warmth in Shera in the cold night.
Rival Love (The Blue Falls Series Book 1) Page 30