by Jon Chaisson
Caren cocked her head. “Figuratively, you mean?”
“Yes, and you were right. It conforms to the most peaceful moment in our lives and builds a construct around it, based on memories. I used to love the Landing Day celebration parties, especially when you and I used to play in that back yard. I felt so happy, so safe there.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” Caren said with a wistful smile. “I miss that. Going to those parties with Mum and Dad, I mean.”
“So do I. And I think that's what my subconscious came up with. That field was like another world, back then, that patch of woods reaching out for miles. I don't think I'd ever seen suburbia before then.” She turned away, facing the city again, the lingering sunlight illuminating her face. There was a hint of sadness there. No, not sadness — a longing to return to that sehna lumia of hers as soon as possible. “So anyway...” she said, almost distractedly. “I started talking to myself up there. Both literally and symbolically, I suppose.”
Caren frowned. “I don't get you.”
Denni pointed at herself, then waved her hands in the air. “Me. And the spiritual embodiment of the One of All Sacred. We briefly talked. Then a Mendaihu came by and visited me, talked with me about aligning with the previous Ones to see if they can help me in any way. Just like Ampryss suggested.”
“And?”
“Well, I didn't stay long enough to be able to figure out the outcome, had I been able to go through with it. I think I may need help on this one. I'm not sure how to contact the previous Dearest...and I'm not sure if any of them will even respond.”
Caren jumped at the opening. “I’m going to be training again soon. This time for Mendaihu Level One placement. Sometime tonight the sehndayen-ne will be calling me. It’s Elder Nayélha. I thought…”
Denni stared at her. “Crittiqila Nayélha?” she gushed. “Pashyo! You’re going all out, then.”
“You know her?” Caren said in surprise.
“The One recognizes her name and signature. She's an extremely powerful Mendaihu Elder. There's a rumor that she may be kiralla, but no one knows for sure. She's never revealed herself to be one here on Gharra.”
Caren arched her brow. “Not many do. I’ve never seen one.”
“They’re secretive about their True Selves,” she said. “They don't advertise who they are at all, as it interferes with their duties as Watchers of the Mendaihu.” She smirked as she looked at her. “She won't be calling by vid or comm, will she?”
“Probably not.” The way Jenn and Matthew had described it, emha Nayélha would be contacting her from within. That had kept her on edge for most of the day, expecting some otherworldly voice to be invading her head at an inopportune time, or when she had forgotten about it.
“Do you know when you'd be starting your training?” Denni asked.
Caught in an awkward moment, she looked away. “You can come too,” she said. “You know, if you want.”
Denni was silent for a moment. “I'm not sure if I should.”
“Why not?”
“First off, this is your training, not mine. I have to do this on my own. I would only be in your way. And besides, I still need to figure out how to contact the previous Ones. Second of all, if I’ve learned anything so far, being the One is not something you can train for. I hold most of the burden because of the failed Ascension, or else I'd know everything already. This is something I have to deal with on my own. No sehndayen-ne can help me with this, unless they were a previous One of All Sacred in another life.”
As much as it hurt to hear those words, she was right. They were already on separate spiritual paths. She laid a hand on her shoulder. “You sure you're going to be okay with going it alone?”
That wonderful young smile of hers, a smile of hope and optimism, flashed across her face as she reached out and touched her hand. “I'll be fine.”
Caren covered Denni's hand with hers and squeezed. “I hope so, kid.” She pulled her into a tight hug and kissed her on the forehead. “I still worry about you,” she whispered.
“So do I,” Denni answered, clutching at her shoulders.
Karinna Shalei.
Caren woke up out of a sound sleep with her heart racing fast and her eyes desperately trying to focus. Where was she? She couldn’t see anything. Was she in her room? Yes? Yes, she was in her bedroom. Who had—? Oh Goddess, not another Awakening ritual! Wait, no — she would have sensed that coming. Her head spun madly, creating the sensation of the world being pulled out from under her. This wasn’t normal, not at all.
Denni! Denni was…she was okay? She was in the next room, fast asleep. She could sense her clearly, she was calm and safe. She had to calm herself fast. Hra khera, hra mehra. No, that wasn’t going to work. What was she feeling? This spinning. Someone was inside. Someone had taken a hold of her spirit and twisted it in a direction it shouldn’t have gone in. Saisshalé! Damn him, what’s he done? Was this how it felt? Oh Goddess, he was finally back for revenge! It was — no, that wasn’t him. Couldn’t be him. She could sense a presence. Someone was here. Someone.
Calm down!
She tried to catch her breath, inhaling in quick bursts, but she could not get it under control. Her heart was beating hard in her ribcage, hard enough to hurt. Her vision began to fail. The room grew darker. She found herself strangely calmed by this new breathing method, and eventually her heartbeat slowed until it was in sync with it. Short, choppy breaths, enough to starve her brain and her blood of oxygen. Someone —
Karinna Shalei, the voice repeated.
“Hu— ” she coughed.
Come with me, Karinna. Open your eyes and follow.
“Hu— ”
Let it go, Karinna.
“...h— ”
That's it.
“hh.......hhhaaaaaah.”
Step forth, Karinna. I am here.
“hhaaaaaaaah.....who....”
I am Crittiqila Nayélha. I am your sehndayen-ne.
Her chest burned and she had lost consciousness. She was not there, no longer in the cluttered bedroom of her apartment. She was no longer alive. No: she was more than alive. She was keenly connected to the entire universe. Like stepping through fire, sensing every nerve ending, every cell of her skin burning off her bones until nothing remained and left her completely bare. The pain in her heart and in her lungs and in her head slowly receded back into a weak tug at what she could only describe as her soul's roots held tightly around her physical body, afraid to let go, while the spirit body surged forth. Moving faster now...out of darkness...
...and into Light.
She opened her eyes again.
She stood atop a high promontory overlooking a wide valley. A few small hills rose here and there. Off in the distance a river cut through, opening up wider as it spilled into the bay and further to the ocean. A high island rose out of the water at its mouth, refusing to budge. The whole area looked so familiar to her...familiar and safe. Had she been here before? Was this the Trisanda she'd visited long ago when she'd made contact with Anando? No, this wasn’t Trisanda at all. This was Gharra.
“Where am I?” she said, finally finding her voice.
Crittiqila’s voice rose behind her. “This is a version of the Bridgetown that you know, Karinna,” she said. She turned and saw a young and extremely fit woman in her early twenties, wearing the same black, form-fitting body suit all the Mendaihu Elders wore. Over it she wore a long brown leather duster, and her long silky black hair was draped over her shoulders, unbound. She strolled up to Caren with a friendly smile.
“It's the Bridgetown you wish you knew.” She gestured out over the valley, pointing in different directions. “No Nullport, no highways. No skyscrapers. No Tower! Can you believe there was a time here where the Mirades Tower didn't exist?”
Caren started to speak, but Crittiqila lifted up her hand to stop her. “You see this vision as one of two things: either an alternate reality where Bridgetown doesn't exist, or we've traveled in time to a po
int where the province doesn’t exist. Well, I say it's neither, Karinna. This is your personal lumisha dea. I'd say you have one wicked sense of humor.”
Caren blushed, and she wasn’t sure why. “I always thought it was my parents’ house.”
“That is an extension,” she said. “Or more accurately, a small part of the whole. I know you’ve been elsewhere, Karinna. You’ve been to a lumisha dea at edha Alix’s, at the oceanfront, even at that diner near where you work. Think about that for a moment. Each of these places calm you. What does that mean?”
“Bridgetown really is my lumisha dea?” Caren shook her head. “Are you sure?”
“It's completely your choice,” the sehndayen-ne said. “I think you love this city much more than you care to admit.”
“But...why?”
“That, my dear milédayen-ne, is something you'll have to figure out yourself.”
Caren frowned again. “Why are we here? It's not as if I feel peaceful right now...”
“I wouldn't expect you to, on your first visit here,” the woman said. “Those who visit their true lumisha dea for the first time get quite disoriented. Ask Denysia, I’m sure she felt the same. But I bet that if you dreamed about this place tonight, you'd have your eight hours of peaceful sleep.” Suddenly a wicked smile crossed her face. “But wait — are we dreaming this right now? Did you really wake up back there, hyperventilating and losing grip with reality, only to phase into this reality through some dodgy Lightwalking? Or did we just split ourselves in two? Are you here and in bed, dreaming this? Poses a good one, doesn't it?”
“I do enjoy philosophy...” Caren said warily. “But positing whether or not I'm alive or dead or dreaming or whatever, just gives me a headache and pisses me off. I work so much better without the additional stress.”
“So I have seen,” she said. “Thus ends the first lesson.”
Caren scowled at her. “What first lesson? We just got here!”
“Think you can get back here on your own?” Crittiqila asked.
“I...” Caren dropped her shoulders. “I don't know.”
Crittiqila moved in close, reached out and caressed her cheek. “You'll get it in time, Karinna. You know how to get here. You just need a reason for it, just like everything else. You crave reason. Not nearly as much as your partner does, but you've got the same hunger. You refuse to accept something as a mere miracle.”
“Goddess knows I'm trying,” Caren offered weakly. “There are days.”
Crittiqila grinned. “Yes, there are days, aren't there? Days when so much happens, so many cross points, so many directions at once, that all you can do is accept fate. Am I correct?”
Caren smirked. “Heh...'here lies fate.' That damn phrase is following me. Within, while I'm sensing, people are saying it. Or at least feeling it. It's not as if any of us want to accept fate without question, that our lives are preordained.”
“Who are we to judge?”
“Exactly. But that phrase has definitely been popping up everywhere. Would you happen to know what it means?”
“I'd rather not offer any guesses,” she said. “Although I would say that its frequency as graffiti is definitely on the rise.”
Caren cocked an eyebrow at her curious answer. “You're from Bridgetown as well?”
Crittiqila smiled. “That I am. Born and lived here all my life. And a bit of the life before that. Beyond that, I haven't searched long enough to find out.”
Again with the strange answers! She shook her head and looked out over what was supposed to be the city. All she saw were patches of trees and swaths of green fields. The gentle roll of Branden Hill to the southwest was the only landmark that looked anything remotely like the present-day Sector she knew.
“You want to scan out there, don't you?” Crittiqila asked. “You want to know if you can still feel them.”
Caren nodded. “There's something out there. I can feel it, but I can't tell what it is yet.”
“Spirits,” she offered. “That's what you feel. There are those in Bridgetown who also believe this is their place of rest, their place of peace, despite the chaos that goes on in the real world. Some wouldn't think twice about leaving this city, they love it here so much.”
“That’s…” she started, and looked away. “I just can't picture myself as one of those people, emha. There are days when I just...click with the rest of the city. You know what I mean? Days where I feel I'm fulfilling my part as a Mendaihu, keeping watch. Those are the days when I feel most connected to the city. But other days I feel so removed. Not exactly lonely, just separated from everyone else. Like I shouldn't even be here. Like I should be somewhere else. Somewhere offworld. Like Trisanda.”
Crittiqila nodded. “I understand. I know you’ve visited there, briefly. Other Mendaihu get that feeling as well. I get it all the time; I just call it homesickness and return to my duties. There are things, Karinna, that Mendaihu must sacrifice. I've sacrificed wanting to return to Trisanda, so I can remain here on Gharra.”
“Why?”
“Come,” she said, and moved closer to the edge of the overlook. She sat down on a rock outcropping and patted the ground next to her. Caren sat down, her limbs tight and tensed from uncertainty. Despite her willingness to talk openly with Crittiqila, she couldn't get past it. It felt like she wasn't supposed to be here at all and had stumbled into this reality by accident. She wasn't even sure if she could return to her own.
Crittiqila placed an arm around her and gently pulled her close until her head was resting on the woman’s shoulder. Resting her temple on hers, she began slowly stroking Caren’s hair, and breathed slowly and audibly until she found her own breathing cycle matching hers. She was calming her down by way of soulhealing, holding her and reining in her energies until they swirled lazily around them, pulsing with her breath and her heartbeat.
“Hra khera...hra mehra...” she whispered. “...hra khera...hra mehra...”
Caren closed her eyes and nuzzled into Crittiqila's embrace. “Why did you sacrifice returning to Trisanda?” she asked.
Crittiqila laughed quietly, a little puff of breath. “You may as well ask yourself that question. Not now, but in the future. Me? I chose because I felt it was the right thing to do. As Trisandi, we have always promised to be the overseers of this world, to nurture it into higher planes of intelligence, existence, and states of being. As Mendaihu, we promised to come to Gharra to make sure the Trisandi promise is kept.”
“And as kiralla?” Caren asked.
Crittiqila laughed again, this time hugging Caren close. “You learn quickly, Karinna. As the noble kiralla, we are impartial. We judge the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu equally and fairly. We are the overseers of spirits.”
“Sounds like a god complex to me,” Caren said with a smirk, and slowly pushed herself out of Crittiqila's embrace. Now completely relaxed, she was able to truthfully talk to her without feeling self-conscious. “Truth, now. Are you kiralla?”
She nodded with a smile. “I am, Karinna. I do not flaunt the fact because there is nothing about it to flaunt. I am simply a kiralla spirit, that's all. You see, that is the one strange thing about Mendaihu and Shenaihu. They are quite willing to show their spirit form when it suits them. The Shenaihu take on a stunted, incomplete form of kiralla — a manifestation of the physical. The Mendaihu choose instead to take the form of angels — a manifestation of the spiritual. Angels are a purely Gharné form, mind you, but that doesn't matter. It is the meaning behind the angel form that is important. On Gharra, angels are forms of pure, honest spirit whose sole purpose is to serve God and man.”
“Then the kiralla, a true kiralla…?” Caren started.
Crittiqila smiled. “The kiralla are a manifestation of both the physical and the spiritual, pure in balance and in action. A true kiralla has a dragonlike form, just like the Shenaihu, but its spirit signature is very similar to that of the Mendaihu.”
“I’ve seen and sensed manifestations before…but dragons
? Why dragons?”
“You disbelieve,” Crittiqila said.
“I'm sorry,” Caren said, ashamed. “It’s not that I don’t…it’s just not what I expected.” She lowered her head.
“Don't be sorry,” Crittiqila said with a genuine smile. “I know you meant no disrespect. It trips everyone up. But it does do the trick, you see. It keeps people from reacting with fear when we actually show our True Selves. The dragon image in Gharné history has always been used to inspire fear as well as awe; it is a very spiritual and primal in nature, and is sometimes viewed as the spirit closest to the soul of the world itself. The Gharné dragon is essentially an impression of the Trisandi kiralla.”
Caren studied her for a second. “Your form is that fear-inspiring?”
“Only when we get pissed off enough,” she laughed. “Would you like to see?”
Caren blinked. “Sehndayen-ne, I'd be honored!”
Crittiqila nodded, placing that calming hand on her shoulder again. “For you, I will. I will, because you, of all people, must know the differences between spirits. If you are a Protector of the One, you must know and remember the kiralla. Are you ready?”
“Ready as I'll ever be,” she answered unevenly.
“It is a test, Karinna,” she said. “But, like all tests, you’re never completely prepared for it. Remember, you will learn from setbacks as well as achievements. And I promise you, this is an achievement.” She held out a hand for Caren to take. Nervously she took it, and together they stepped into Light...
...and fell into a black cavern full of echoes.
“Crittiqila?” she called out, her voice immediately lost in the vast space. Unafraid but immediately wary, she fell to her haunches, hands out and touching the rough ground. Fine particles of dust stuck to her fingers, tiny stones poking into her knees and palms. “Crittiqila!” Louder, but not nearly loud enough. She closed her eyes for a few seconds to adjust, and opened them wide again to the same utter darkness. A wave of claustrophobia washed over her and she fought it until it subsided. She'd been locked in dark places before, hidden in them, and survived. She could survive this. She —