In her eighteen years of living in Sedayval, never have they been host to the delegates. To be chosen as a host was considered a high honor, and it was only bestowed to Sedayvalians who had power, position or money.
Such was the way the world works.
“Hey, isn’t that Andel?” Aishan pointed out.
Sure enough, it was Andel, with a group of his Academic friends occupying a table in a small tea shop. The Academicians were often clothed in a simple beige shirt and black pants, carrying large tomes of books, rushing from one school around Sedayval to another.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” Shera said, unwilling to have a run in with Andel and his friends. The argument they had had the day before yesterday still weighed heavily in her mind.
Poor Aishan. Shera wanted to tell her, but Aishan was sometimes a lost lamb of a girl. She was too easily impressionable and looked at people like Shera and Iman as inspiration. Telling Aishan about her argument would Andel would invite unnecessary questions.
But it was too late. Aishan had already called out Andel’s name, and waved in his direction when he looked over. Shera groaned inwardly and stomached her acidic anger. She had not seen or heard from Andel since their argument.
Andel too, was caught in an uncompromising position. He reluctantly waved them over, his eyes intently looking at Shera the whole time.
“Come join us,” Andel’s friend invited the girls to sit at the empty chairs next to Andel.
The two Young Acolytes sat with the Academicians, Shera in the middle of Andel and Aishan. Andel grabbed his cup of tea and settled his lips on its rim, taking his time to sip the hot beverage. He was intent on stalling the need to initiate a conversation with Shera.
“What a parade!” one Academician gushed out. “To finally be able to see the Shando in this lifetime! I am so lucky.”
Shera was glad for this topic. It gave her an opportunity to pursue the subject further. “You’ve not been to the eastern region of the continent?”
The man, Andel’s friend that Shera knew only as Von, shook his head. His hair frizzed so greatly in the night humidity of Sedayval, it almost resembled a densely foliaged palm tree. “Amongst us all, only Andel’s been there. This guy’s got more balls than five dragons put together!”
The other academicians laughed at the joke while Andel beamed with pleasure. He enjoyed the attention people granted him.
“You must be excited too, Shera. Finally, you meet people who were from your mother’s hometown. What’s that like?” Von asked when the laughter died down.
“Mixed emotions really,” Shera said. She was still thinking of the Shando delegate. A wave of guilt washed over her. Andel, her lover, was sitting beside her, yet all Shera could think was the feeling of gazing lovingly the whitish-greyish eyes of the Shando man.
The conversation was kept light for the most part, until a smaller, meek academician suddenly spoke up. “Settle an argument for us, please. We were discussing something about the Priestesshood of Maan.”
It seemed as if the young Academician had unearthed their earlier conversation in front of Shera and Aishan. Shera turned to Andel, who had a stunned look on his face, as though unwilling to be a part of this conversation.
“Tell us. Maybe we can help?” Aishan’s eyes glowed brightly. To her, she felt that if people had a question about Maan, they were curious to know more about the goddess, rather than denounce it. Tonight, Shera thought, Aishan would probably learn the duality that ran within the city of Sedayval.
“We were having an argument over the Jewel of Maan. According to Andel and Semi,” the boy continued, pointing at another academician sitting to the left of Andel, “the Jewel is a mere geomagnetic rock that powers the city and keeps us afloat. Von and I think that there is magic involved.”
Shera smiled. Even amongst the academicians, they could not agree about the true nature of the Jewel of Maan. And that was easily explainable, for the Jewel of Maan laid miles within the heart of Sedayval, within the encasement of the floating rock that was the city.
“So, which is it?” the boy asked, pushing the bridge of his glasses against his nose. He leaned forward, as though wanting an answer immediately.
It was Aishan who answered. “Young Acolytes aren’t supposed to see the Jewel of Maan. That honor is only given to High Priestess Iktai.”
“Hasn’t the High Priestess ever told you what the Jewel of Maan is? What powers it contains? What it even looks like?”
“Only the High Priestess,” Shera repeated. “They are the only ones who have seen the Jewel of Maan that keeps this city alive.”
“Then why don’t they say anything about how it looks?” Andel asked, much to Semi and Von’s excited nods. “Why not tell us what the Jewel of Maan actually looks like? Is it a coincidental piece of rock with geomagnetic properties, or does it actually contain magic?”
The conversation began to get a little chaotic, anger filled.
Andel went on about a tirade how the High Priestess of Maan has been spreading lies about Maan’s existence. And that it had to stop. Shera bit at her lip, unable to contain her anger.
“If it truly exists, why not show it to us? Why hide something as magical as that?” He pointed to the entrance to the catacombs.
Shera shook her head. She looked at Aishan who had a look of shock on her face, accompanied by a helpless tremble on her lips. “But… but Maan does exist. It gives power to us all. The runes, the magic.”
“Magic does exist,” Von replied, his voice though a lot calmer than Andel’s, still on his friend’s side. “But the magic system does have its explanations too. Not Sedayval however. For three centuries, the Jewel of Maan has been kept hidden from all of us. Even from you.”
“Shera, is this true?” Aishan asked, almost at the verge of tears.
Shera ignored her and continued to fix her gaze at Andel. It was clear that Andel had instigated this conversation amongst the Academicians. The small wedge of disrespect the men had for the women undergoing Priestesshood was now very much significant.
“It was Maan who created the Jewel of Maan, which gives this city its life, Andel,” Shera said softly.
“Prove it,” he said with maddening superiority. “If Maan truly does exist, show us this Jewel of Maan that is so powerful.”
Shera got up abruptly, causing the table and cups to rattle. Tea was spilled out of the cups where the iquid was filled to the brim. “Let’s go, Aishan.” The younger girl nodded and stood up, her quiet eyes unable to comprehend the nature of the conversation that had just taken place.
Andel sat there now, still smiling at Shera, unwilling to apologize. “I am still waiting for an answer, Shera.”
Shera, too angry to come up with a retort, stormed off with Aishan.
*
After seeing Aishan off to her home, Shera took the longer route to return home. She was in no hurry. Her father was not to return from Enmei until late night tomorrow or the morning after.
If there was a competition for the Wonders of the World, Sedayval would have garnered the top most position. A floating mass of land, defying gravity and several laws of ancient physics, was the stuff of magic. And with magic came a lot of folklore.
The story of Maan fighting for the exodus of her people was the tale of legends, and for years, it had been irrefutable. Shera had to concede, after her argument with Andel, that she too, understood a degree of his sentiments. Though many tales had been written of Maan’s descent from the heavens, there never were any pictures of her depicted in those century old scrolls.
No artists had bothered to draw, document, sculpt, or write about her physical traits.
The carvings of Maan were often depicted in the various forms of her vessels, the actual god herself was a mysterious being, abstract and nebulous, too complex for the simple human mind to comprehend. It was during her first date with Andel when he posed the question – Is it that Maan is too abstract to be conceived, or is it an excuse we give our
selves to blunt any curiosities people have of her existence?
Shera felt ashamed. She had perpetuated Andel’s behavior. And in return, he had used her. She had told him of the rituals of the Priestesshood, something he took to probably reporting to his fellow academicians. Inferences were probably made of Shera’s Priestesshood, and Andel had come to the conclusion that she was in fact living a lie.
She looked around at the now quieter streets at the more middle class portions of the city. The doors were still kept open, but Shera knew that none of the delegates from Enmei, Xera and Shando would ever grace their presence at these parts of her city.
So, nothing prepared her when Shera saw a Dragon Knight of Shando walking quietly along the street of her home. She stopped at the junction and saw the retreating figure of the Dragon Knight, recognizable by their traditional white garb. It was the same man she had found herself attracted to during the parade, tall, muscular with a short-cropped hair streaked in a line of red. His figure caught the beam of moonlight and he moved with a slow but sure gait along the streets, considering the open doors of the houses.
Heart hammering against her chest, Shera walked up the street to catch up to him. Something about him, perhaps it was just a zany form of attraction, made her want to see him up close. He heard her footsteps coming from behind and turned around to stare at her.
His eyes met hers, and it remained there, a small tinge of surprise registered on his face.
“Are you lost?” Shera asked.
He shook his head, lips pursed tightly. As though her presence meant nothing to him, he continued walking up the street, leaving her alone in the deserted street.
Shera felt slighted by the manner in which he regarded and rejected her. Still, it did not matter to her. Walking to her own home, she entered, leaving the door open, as tradition dictated. Safety was an imperative, a rule of Sedayval. There were no robbers in the floating city, and with the added patrol of guards on the streets during the Festival of Providence, the locals felt much safer to adhere to the requirement of Maan.
Her hand pressed against the Inscriptional Runes on her walls and it lit up. The blue light flowed from the touch of her hand along the shapes of the runes, like water filling up the dried riverbeds. The Illumination Orb on the ceiling glowed brightly in response to her touch, the power of Maan flowing through her.
For a moment, she stared at her runes and then at the Orb. How could Andel look and see this as a geomagnetic non-magical force? Maan’s powers could be channeled by runes. Therefore, it should be magic. Why did he think otherwise? Why did he even consider Maan to be a non-existent concept in this universe?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
The Shandorian was now standing at her front door, an unreadable expression on his face. He seemed to look around the house, at the vases and potteries, and at the table, before stopping at the portrait of Shera’s mother.
Shera smiled, but he did not reciprocate.
“Would you like to have some wine?” she asked. She pointed at the table where a bottle of wine and a few glasses stood on. As it was customary, any visitors who came during the Festival of Providence must be invited into the house with some wine. The bottle was brought by Shera’s mother from her hometown, which she insisted was to be used for the visitors during the festival.
This was the first time they had received a visitor, and it was a delegate from Shando. The man looked at the table, and a smile pricked his lips at the sight of the Shando-made wine.
“As tradition dictates, will the host of Sedayval accept my intrusion into their humble home?” he spoke. His voice was polished, deep, but it was apparent that he was not used to speaking in such polite eloquence. He struggled with his words, hesitating before speaking.
Shera struggled not to blush. Nodding she beckoned him in.
Shera had never fallen in love. When Andel first came up to her in a get together between Acolytes and Academicians, he approached her with a rigor that was both awkward and sweet. He had impressed her with his healthy knowledge and sweet compliments. The love she felt for him was built from a slow, but steady transition from tolerance to attraction. She had thought Andel to be the wisest choice for a woman of her position to marry, for his stability and influence. A couple made up of an Academic of Sedayval, and the Priestess of Maan was the most desirable union in the country.
But now, at the presence of this man in her house, Shera could not help but feel an ineffable attraction towards him. True, he was dashing, but Shera had been approached by many beautiful men before. There was that intangible quality in him that she found most appealing.
He walked around the living room, his two thin, long silvery chains diagonally crossing his torso. They clinked against his beautifully spun leather armor. Upon closer inspection, Shera noticed that they weren’t armor. The green, rough, scale-like texture on his body was in fact his scale.
She beckoned him to the table where she poured him a glass of wine. He smelt at it and let out a contented sigh.
“My name is Vahren,” he said, sipping at the Shandorian wine. Licking his lips at its delicious, familiar taste, he leaned back against the chair with a more relaxed demeanor. He seemed intent at looking at Shera’s eyes, captivated by their colors.
“Shera,” she said, pouring him another small helping.
“I was looking for the home of Irinde Guim. They told me that she used to stay around here. They told me that Irinde had a daughter who had cloudy eyes like mine too. Are you her daughter?”
Shera nodded. “My mother died last year.”
Vahren leaned forward, his index finger caressing the stem of the wineglass. “I know. That is why I came. I am here looking for something.”
Shera looked at him in surprise. “What is it?”
“The Jewel of Maan.”
*
His words were still echoing in her mind even after a day. Vahren did not have time to explain his purpose for Damas also returned. He was surprised to see a delegate in his house, a Shandorian at that. In his excitement, he took a reluctant Vahren out for a drink that night.
Shera had no choice but to remain silent. She wanted to ask him about his motivations in coming to Sedayval. Why would a Shandorian be looking for the Jewel of Maan? Were the rumors true – did he want to destroy Sedayval’s prime energy source?
The atmosphere at the dinner table was subdued that night. Shera served the cooked chicken and mashed chickpeas before sitting next to Andel. Her lover appeared as a form of appeasement, but was enraged instead to find the Shandorian man in their house.
Vahren sat in front of her, silently lifting a few spoonful of chickpeas onto his plate. He was determined to not look at her. Shera’s father chewed his food silently. If he was uncomfortable with Vahren’s presence, he did not show it. Andel tried to make small talk with Damas and Shera, but was only met with a grunt, and monosyllabic murmurs from the father and daughter. Occasionally, he threw an oblivious Vahren a nasty stare, jealous of his presence in Shera’s home.
“Great chickpeas,” Vahren said after a few minutes of eating.
“How have you found your stay here in Sedayval?” Damas asked, picking up another piece of chicken from the middle of the table. “Would you consider coming back for the next festival?”
“After they have destroyed Enmei? They would probably invade Xera before coming for us,” Andel answered smugly.
“Andel!” Shera cautioned.
Andel’s hateful eyes were fixed directly at Vahren. “You just wait, Damas. You think their kind is here for peaceful reasons?”
Vahren put his spoon down on the table and looked calmly at Andel. The red streak on his hair seemed to glow, as though enraged by Andel’s remarks, but his face had on a smile. “As usual, the Academician thinks he knows all about the world because he has read a few books.”
“I have travelled the continent!” Andel exclaimed, slamming a fist on the table.
“Really,
Andel, there is no need for such passion at the dinner table!” Damas retorted, surprised with the usually quiet academician’s now alarming behavior.
“I have even been to the eastern region, near Shando lands!”
“Where exactly?” Vahren challenged, the smile on his lips thinning.
“He has done some cartography research in the eastern town of Ben-Airo,” Shera answered calmly, trying to alleviate the heated argument. But Vahren made it worse by laughing.
“You call that ‘near’ Shando territory? Please,” he waved his hand in amusement. “You have not even scaled the mountains that separate your region from ours.”
Andel gripped at his spoon, unable to think of a retort. Damas was intent on numbing himself from the drama, and had already begun downing his third glass of wine. Shera looked at Andel’s bespectacled angry face, alternated with Vahren’s calmness though his hands were balled on the surface of the table. It was clear that both men were at the verge of a fistfight.
The Truth in Lies: A TALE OF MANN Page 5