by Jon Chaisson
“Out and away, I'm afraid,” she answered, waving her hand in the air. Madeleine understood the gesture immediately. “Care for some coffee?”
“I'd love some,” Madeleine said, and followed her into the kitchen. “Denni's one determined girl. She's been Lightwalking almost every other day, hasn't she?”
Caren tried to hide her frustration. “Seems like it. Normally she comes back within an hour or two, or at least sends out a thread to let me know she’s okay. This time she's been gone for almost six.”
“And you can't sense her, can you?” she said. “She's on Trisanda, isn't she?”
She nodded, frowning. “I know she's safe up there...I just wish I knew for sure.”
Madeleine hummed in agreement as she sat down at the kitchen table. “You have faith in her, that I know,” she said, nodding as Caren placed a coffee mug before her. “It's proof you need, right? Proof of a lot of things.”
Caren tried to hide a blush. “A few things, Madeleine. Everything else I give the benefit of the doubt.”
“Yes, but that can only take you so far,” she said, and sipped from her mug. “A little more sugar, if you don't mind?”
Caren obliged and passed the sugar dispenser her way. “Okay, I admit, I do need proof in my life. I mean, it only makes sense, right? After Mum and Dad were killed, I became obsessed in wanting to know why, and that just bled over into everything else in my life. It's a credit to my job performance, but in mundane life it's the bane of my existence. I just don't know any other way anymore.”
“It's only human to search for the answers to our existence, dear,” Madeleine said. “Or should I say, it's Trisandi to do as such. Believe me, you're not the only one going through this right now. It's the curse of being awakened. Our past, our memories, have been pushed to the forefront where we must face them, whether we’re ready or not. You may be a Warrior and a Protector, and you even have the dubious duty of being the sister of the One. But in the grander scheme of things, you're just another newly awakened Mendaihu with an uncertain future, just like the rest of us.”
Caren grumbled and hid behind her mug. “Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better,” she said.
“It wasn't meant to,” she smiled. “It was meant to make you feel a little more connected to those around you. This is the one problem we have each time, Caren. We're all sleepers until someone wakes us up. But it’s up to each individual to acknowledge that interconnection and use it.”
“My sehndayen-ne has made that notion quite clear. But that still doesn't answer my questions.”
Madeleine slowly put the mug back down and laid a hand on Caren's arm. “Dearest Karinna,” she said. “You don't need to have any questions answered. You trust Denysia, just as you trust Alix and Ashyntoya and Akaina and Sheila and Nicholas...the only person you do not trust is yourself.”
Caren shivered. “I...”
Madeleine shook her head. “No, my dear. Do not lie. Especially to yourself, because that is the easiest lie of all. You have all the answers before you, just as you always have. You know that you are Mendaihu. You know that you love Anando Shalei with all your heart and soul. You know that your beloved sister Denysia is the One of All Sacred, one of the most powerful deities in the known universes. These are concrete facts, proof you already have. You do not need to ask why...because you do not trust your heart.”
“Piann nyhndah nehko aladh imhsha,” Caren said. She took a deep wavering breath, and she felt the tears coming. She chose not to fight them this time. “Goddess...you're right, Madeleine. You're right, and so is Akaina.” She choked on her sobs. “Damn it all! Why am I so afraid of my own spirit? I must be afraid of death, Madeleine. Death! Can you believe it? What kind of Mendaihu am I if I can't even live up to my birthright?”
Madeleine slowly rose from her chair and comforted her. Caren wanted to push her away. Goddess, she felt so stupid! She was strong, but she wasn’t perfect. She couldn't ignore her emotions forever. She was terrified of death.
That is what you should be questioning, Madeleine said to her from within. And you should be reaching past that, Karinna. Never fear death...you will only return again, another place, another time, your spirit renewed. And Denysia, Anando, and everyone else will be right there with you.
“I...”
“Shhh...” Madeleine soothed, arms wrapping around her. She felt the woman's lips brush her temple, sending tiny waves of love between them. “That is your quest, Karinna,” she whispered. “You are about to become the greatest, most fearless Warrior of the One that even She has ever seen. And I know you can do it, because I've seen it before, in your past lives. You are strong, Karinna. Believe in that.”
Caren honestly didn't know what to believe anymore. “I’m so afraid,” she sobbed.
Madeleine sent another wave of love deep into her heart. “I know,” she whispered. “We all are.”
She heard the slight snap of air just as she was dozing off on the couch. It jerked her awake, and she was aware and on her feet and ready to move within the span of three seconds. Only then did she realize that Denni had finally returned, Amna in tow. She heard whispering in the kitchen, a bit of giggling, and the scuffling of feet. There was another giggle, one girl hushing the other. Then she felt Denni's powerful presence sending out a sensing tendril.
“Oh...” she said out loud. “She's awake. Sorry, Caren!”
Caren smiled, utterly relieved. “Quite all right,” she said, padding her way through the room. “Welcome back.”
“Umm…what time is it?”
Caren turned and looked at the vidmat tacked to the wall, its clock app blinking softly. “It's almost one in the morning,” she said. “On a school night, I might add.”
Yet another giggle. “Oops!” That was Amna. “I suppose I should go, then...”
“No, you can stay over,” Caren said. “I called your parents to let them know.” She entered the kitchen, and was surprised to see the two young teenage girls covered in dirt, grass stains and soot. “Goddess, where the hell have you two been?” she exclaimed. “You're filthy!”
Denni blushed. “Heh. Long story.”
She pointed to the hallway. “Wash up and get changed. Then we'll talk.”
“Thanks, Caren!” Amna beamed, and gave her a hug as she moved past. Denni started to head towards her room, got as far as the doorframe, and turned back around. She faced Caren, but did not say anything. She was smiling, but it was forced.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Denni sighed and dropped her expression quickly. “Hard to say,” she frowned. Then with another, more theatrical sigh, she shook her head at her in exasperation. “I'm just confused, really. I went looking for answers and got something completely different.”
“Oh? Like what?”
Denni shrugged and looked away, down the hall towards her room. Caren knew enough not to pry. She put her arms around her, dirt and soot be damned, and gave her a tight hug. “Hey...don't sweat it. You don't have to tell me now. I trust you. I’m just glad you’re back.”
She felt Denni’s shiver of relief. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.” She let go, lingering momentarily to give her a genuine smile this time. Caren felt that small wave of love, that intricate blanket of emotion that was distinctively Denni, and quickly reciprocated with her own.
Moments later, the two teenagers came out of the bedroom wearing sweats and cotton tops, sleepy but awake enough to talk for at least a little while. She made tea and filled her own mug with the last of the coffee. They retreated to the living room, Caren taking the single chair and Denni and Amna taking the couch. The two were sitting close, hands entwined. Caren sensed a new bonding that had only come to light just tonight, and it was probably the thing in particular that Denni didn't want to talk about just yet.
What they did talk about was Amna's awakening as a kiralla. A kiralla! Caren was amused by the girl’s typical and blatant disregard for expectations. She was so petite, smaller than an
y girl in her class, and feisty attitude aside, she did not act anything like a revered spirit. Crittiqila Nayélha certainly fit the bill, with her intelligence, grace and benevolence — and the aforementioned feistiness — but emha Nayélha certainly didn't flaunt the fact.
Amna couldn't stop talking about it. “...and it feels weird,” she gushed. “Not at all what I'd expected. It's like...it's like I feel the same, only everything's in a different place.”
Denni giggled at her. “Don’t be gross!”
“You should talk, Den! You can change into whatever form you want! I saw your wings!”
Wings? Caren hid the surprise the best she could and went along with the conversation.
“That's different,” she said. “The wings are a part of my spirit. Just like your tail.”
Amna burst out laughing. “That is so not the same! The tail is a part of my body!”
“Yeah,” Denni said slyly. “I know how much you like shaking your butt at the boys.”
“Shut up!” she said, slapping her on the arm.
Caren waved at them but laughed just the same. “Settle down, you two. It's close to two and I really need the rest. I'm going in to work early tomorrow, so I want the two of you up and ready and off to school before I leave.”
Denni gave with her theatrical sigh. “Yes, Caren...” she said with a whine. She smiled brightly, stood up and kissed her on the cheek. “I'm about tapped anyway. Thanks for waiting.”
“Sure thing. We’re good?”
Denni nodded. “We're good. G'night.” She started off towards her bedroom.
“Good night, Caren,” Amna said, stopping next to Caren. She laid a hand on her arm, a gentle touch of love and serenity. “Thanks. Sleep well, 'kay?”
Caren smiled uncertainly, placing a hand over Amna's. “Sure,” she said. “I will. You too.”
She watched the petite Amna disappear into the hallway and sat there until she heard the closing of the door and the switching off of the light. There were a few muffled giggles, soon subsiding into quiet whispering and eventually into slumber. Caren sat there for perhaps another hour, calm in her mind but unsettled in her spirit. Something had happened between the two of them tonight, something that had caused them to become closer friends than ever. Had they discovered some distant familial relationship that she did not know about? As far as she knew, she and Denni did not possess any kind of link to the Ehramanis clan. No, this was something different.
By the time she climbed into bed herself, it was a little past three. She'd have to be up by eight if she was going to make it into work on time, so she set her alarm for seven and turned off the light. She stared at the dark shadows on the ceiling and thought about Poe...she wondered what he might be doing right now, whether he was in bed or if he was awake and poking away at his vidmat, trying to think of new ways to approach their situation. She debated giving him a call, but decided against it. She was tired, and she didn't want to risk waking him up.
“Good night, Dearest One,” she whispered into the quiet room. She let out a long breath, rolled over, and went to sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Movement
Midnight came and went and Poe was still wide awake. He sat at his usual late night perch at one of the windows overlooking Ormand Street, ignoring the headache pounding at his temples. He didn't want to relive that fateful night that started all of this, even if something beautiful did eventually come out of it. One major Awakening in his life was just fine for him. Getting all the players gathered onto the playing field was stressful enough; he didn't want to wait and see what the metaphorical game would actually be. He'd been hoping for some time that this expected spiritual war would be avoided, or at least not incur much damage. Right now he just wanted this season over and done with.
He pulled out a cigarette from the pack in his shirt pocket and lit it. He looked out over the city as he smoked, just like he always did this time of night. He'd seen Bridgetown from many angles in his life: the Crest, Tigua Station space shots, the ARU Headquarters roof, BMPD helicopters, the upper observatory at the Mirades Tower...but this was the view he was most familiar with. The one angle he'd known all his life. This well-worn apartment was his life, had been since he was born. This view was his first memory.
And with it came the Mirades Tower and all the memories associated with it, both good and bad. There was a constant feeling of distrust, whenever he or one of his family members caught a glimpse of it, either on the NewsComms or outside these windows. His mother felt annoyance but no real anger towards those within the Tower, whereas his father couldn't stand half of its tenants. For a time during his rebellious teen years, his brother David despised everyone who set foot within its walls, even visitors. Now he just avoided Bridgetown entirely, methodically forgetting all he could about it by hiding behind academia and drunken weekends.
But there was something about this city that made him want to stay. He couldn't possibly imagine living elsewhere in any other province, or even on any of the other CNF-sanctioned worlds. Right here, in a spacious if somewhat messy three-bedroom apartment on Ormand Street in the southern tip of McCleever District, was where he knew he had to be. It was home.
He checked his watch, and snorted a laugh — it was five minutes to one in the morning. He glanced again at the Tower, half expecting the same thing that happened seven weeks ago to happen again tonight. He was even tempted to call Caren, just to check in and see how she was doing, but had decided against it. She was probably just getting back to her apartment from her date with Anando.
Christine? She was most definitely still awake, working on something or other, well past her planned time to go to bed. He needed to talk to someone that he wasn't romantically or professionally involved with. He dug through his jacket pocket and found Christine’s new number and dialed it into his comm. While it was ringing, he glanced at his watch — two minutes to one. If anything were to happen, now would be the time.
“Gorecki Investigations,” Christine answered.
“Hey,” Poe said. “It's Alec. You busy?”
Christine perked right up. “Oh, hey! Hi! No, I'm not busy at all...one of the rare occasions where I don't have something going, actually.”
“I'm shocked!”
“So am I. What's up?”
“Nothing and everything,” he said, and perched himself back on the window sill. “Can't sleep, and I've got one nasty case of impending doom that I just can't seem to shake.”
“Same here,” she said. “You want to meet somewhere over coffee? We can pull an all-nighter, like we used to, if that'll help.”
“Ehh....” he shrugged. “Thanks anyway, but I've been out all evening, and I'm not really up for going back out again. This has more to do with me not really knowing what the hell I'm going to actually do when the time comes. If the time comes. You know what I mean?”
Christine hummed in agreement. “Hard being the reality seer when you can't see your own.”
“Truer words never spoken.”
“You talk to Kai about this?”
He took another hit from the cigarette, his eyes doing a quick sweep of the city. Surely it was past one now, and nothing bad had happened. A shallow relief. “Yeah, we talked a bit tonight,” he said, shifting his seat. He was looking directly down at the street below, watching the occasional transport speed by and a jaywalker or two skipping across the four-lane street. It was quiet this evening, even for McCleever standards. A few short blocks up the street he saw the bright '24hr' holo sign for Masi's Convenience flickering in the slight breeze. Suddenly, a midnight snack and a replenishment of smokes didn't sound all that bad.
“We met up at the Crest tonight,” he added. “Talked about the inevitability of things.”
“Pfaah,” she grunted. “There's no such thing as inevitability, Poe. Just a severe case of giving up.”
“You’re too cynical, Gorecki,” he laughed. “I'm about to dash out to Masi's and do some late night shopping. Wa
nt to continue this, or would you rather I call back?”
“Hey, keep me connected,” she said. “I'm up for it.”
They continued to chat about mundane things while Poe donned his coat and left the apartment. He felt the tension in his muscles slowly unraveling, comforted by this simple conversation. It was good not to talk about spirits for once. They simply chose not to bring it up. They laughed at dumb jokes as he walked the back stairs. They spoke excitedly of a band whose latest music disc he'd bought a few days ago. They chatted about the latest holofic book topping the bestseller's lists.
Quiet, normal mundane things. Things that reminded him of who he was, behind the spiritual façade.
He pushed open the front door and was unexpectedly hit by a colder breeze than he'd expected. It had been warmer just a few minutes ago at the window. He shivered, remembering the same sensation just minutes before finding Saisshalé in that alleyway a few weeks ago. He put Christine on hold and threw out a small thread of sensing, but found no one in the immediate area. Perhaps his nerves were shot by fatigue, or perhaps it was simply colder than he’d expected.
“Okay,” he said. “Sorry about that. Had to check something.”
“Still here,” she chimed in.
“Cool. So...I've got to know, Chris. This research you're doing at the DRL...”
“Poe, we agreed,” she reprimanded. “You don't need to think about it right now.”
He smirked. “True...but I'm curious. Now, what exactly were you looking for?”
“You never give up, do you? Patterns, mostly. I wanted to find any patterns within Seasons of Embodiment. Everyone asks why they happen. I want to know how.”
“Just like a true-blooded ARU officer,” Poe said.
“Don't remind me. So anyway, here I am, searching through countless files, when it occurs to me: there’s really not any easily accessible treatises focusing the psychology of these Seasons. If there is, it's been put on high secrecy.”