by Lucia Ashta
The effect of Tahn’s familiar voice, strong in its gentle understanding of the ways of life, was tangible and immediate. It was as if a veil were falling away from the students’ eyes. The shroud of confusion, of fear and desperation shattered, and clear, crisp eyes remained. With it, the realization of what had happened immediately followed.
One after another, the students pressed their hands together and brought them in front of their hearts. Facing in all different directions, they closed their eyes. Chests grew heavy with the intake of slow, steady breath. Bodies stabilized and regained their inner calm. Connections to Creator were reestablished. Time passed while the masters and the twins watched.
Eventually, a young girl’s eyelids popped open. She understood what had happened and was ready to proceed. She didn’t blame herself for how she’d reacted. She knew that blame didn’t help her or anyone else. Instead, she accepted her reaction and used that acceptance to grow and better understand herself and her strengths and weaknesses.
Gradually, the other pupils in the courtyard followed the young girl’s course of action. Brilliant, strong eyes focused in on the temple masters, ready for guidance. Meanwhile, Master Tahn had been counting. All of the pupils gathered in preparation for their morning moving meditation were accounted for. It was then that Tahn realized Sina wasn’t with them. He swiveled his head back and forth, searching the open area like a falcon. His piercing gaze took in everything at a glance. She was nowhere.
“Students, please remain here until we return. All is well, and you’re safe,” Tahn told the pupils with the same calm voice that he always used with them.
He turned to the other masters and to Asara and Anak.
“Master Sina isn’t with us. Let’s search the temple grounds swiftly and reconvene here.”
No more organization was needed. They separated and went in different directions, checking those parts of the temple that were reserved for the masters. Quickly, the seven of them were able to cover the grounds and determine that Sina wasn’t within the temple walls. They reassembled in the courtyard.
Tahn gasped. It was only then that it dawned on him.
“The tunnels!”
Asara and Anak were perplexed. What tunnels?
“She must have used the ancient tunnels to escape,” Tahn explained. “Sina must have tried to protect the one thing she’d think more important than her duty to defend the pupils of the Temple of Laresu'u Kal.”
He turned to the other masters there. “Will you help the students understand what’s happening?”
They nodded and stepped forward. Tahn talked to Asara and Anak over his shoulder as he walked off.
“Asara, Anak, please come with me.”
Asara and Anak broke into a trot to close the distance between them and the master. He was moving quickly.
Master Tahn and the twins followed Sina’s exit through the concealed door on the far end of the master council meeting room. Asara marveled at the tunnel system that neither she nor Anak had known existed. Where else did the tunnels lead? Did every one of the temples of Arnaka have a hidden tunnel system like this?
Asara abruptly forgot her pondering when they found Sina unconscious. Her limp body lay sprawled inelegantly on the tunnel floor. She made it to see the river, but wasn’t allowed to take even one more step toward it. Her once white robe was muddy and wet; water from the River Haakal pooled on the ground where she lay.
Tahn ran his hands all over Sina’s head and chest, feeling for injuries. He was a gifted healer and immediately gauged the severity of her situation. Without realizing it, he was shaking his head. It didn’t look good. Sina’s heart still beat, but the pulsing was faint and difficult to detect. Her breath was shallow and raspy. Tahn brushed black strands of hair from her face, and then he closed her eyelids to cover vacant eyes.
Even with the depth of Tahn’s skill, Sina might not make it. He’d do everything he could to help her recover, but it was ultimately up to Creator. Everything always was.
Asara and Anak didn’t have to ask for the prognosis. They too sensed how fragile the life force was within the shell of Sina’s body. She was hanging onto life by a thin thread. Either that thread would become stronger, or it would grow faint and disconnect. The twins bowed their heads in reverence to that intense moment that held within it the balance of life and death; it held within it the destiny of a soul.
Tahn moved aside the large rock that was used as a weapon against Sina’s left temple. He pulled her head into his lap with a delicacy he reserved for the infirm. He caressed her forehead, his hands eventually losing themselves in dark tangles of hair. Sina’s strong determination was notably absent from the scene.
“Go to the courtyard and return with several strong students. We need to carry Master Sina back to the temple, and we cannot risk injuring her any further. We’ll need to move slowly and surely.”
Tahn turned his eyes up toward Asara and Anak. The seeds of tears blurred his rich, brown eyes.
“Go. Now.”
With their backs already turned, neither Asara nor Anak witnessed what Tahn did next. Uncertain as to what exactly was happening, but sure that Sina must have fled the temple to protect the family heirloom her mother had entrusted her with, Tahn searched for the vial that held Dann’s final prophecy. He guessed that must have been the reason Sina was targeted for attack. Tahn realized it was likely that Sina had already been searched, but he had to check anyway. The secret she guarded was important.
The chord she usually wore around her neck was gone. Red welts around her neck and collarbone indicated that the necklace was forcibly yanked and taken from her. Tahn sank back against the tunnel wall with Sina’s head still on his lap. He sighed in defeat. He knew that Dann’s final prophecy could be dangerous in the wrong hands, even though he didn’t know its content; at the temple, only Sina and Kaanra carried the knowledge of the final prophecy.
Tahn leaned his head back harder than he’d planned, and his head clunked against the moss-covered stones that smelled of age. Tahn slumped forward, placing his hand against the back of his skull, and groaned. Sina’s head moved slightly in response to Tahn’s movement. It was then that Tahn glimpsed what he’d missed before.
Tucked beneath a strap of Sina’s undergarment, a yellowed and frayed edge peeked out. Carefully, Tahn dislodged the hidden fragment. As an extreme precaution, Sina had removed the parchment from the vial as she ran down the length of the tunnel. She still wasn’t certain that the attack was because of Dann’s final prophecy, but she wouldn’t take a chance. She tucked the parchment beneath her tunic and kept running.
Seconds later, she crumbled to the ground. Her final decision had saved the parchment from the hands of darkness.
Now Tahn accepted responsibility for one of humanity’s greatest living secrets. Until Sina woke—if she woke—destiny had chosen him guardian of the final prophecy. Although he wasn’t the oldest of the remaining temple masters of Laresu’u Kal, he was very wise. He knew that knowledge carried with it great responsibility.
He decided to conceal and protect Dann’s final prophecy without learning its content. If Tahn didn’t know what the final prophecy was, he couldn’t put thoughts of it out in the energetic waves of the universe. Those thoughts could become a beacon to the individuals who monitored the energy of light, dark, and everything in between.
Not knowing the final prophecy kept everyone at the Temple of Laresu’u Kal safer. It was the right thing to do. Tahn chose to put his curiosity to rest, prioritizing the pupils and their way of life. He placed the small parchment into a pouch he carried around his waist and turned his mind to the threat that had so unexpectedly descended upon their peaceful traditions.
After more than two hundred years of hunting for the elusive final prophecy, the dark had discovered the secret at last.
Chapter 3
Lena startled awake. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep. The exhaustion had finally won. She’d placed her head agains
t the passenger-side car window and slept peacefully until Paolo hit a bump in the road.
She looked around. “Where are we?” When she’d fallen asleep, Paolo was driving on a well-traveled highway. Now they were going down a narrow dirt road into the woods. Fortunately Marian had left them a four-wheel drive vehicle that was well suited for off-road terrain. Lena knew fortune really had nothing to do with it. Marian had foreseen much of what would happen after her death. Her staff had loaded their car with state-of-the-art camping gear, food rations, and water.
“We’re close to the pyramid. I thought we could camp here for the night.” Paolo looked at Lena. She appeared tired and troubled. “Will that be alright with you, amore?”
Lena was too exhausted and overwhelmed to make a decision. She nodded weakly. Almost anywhere would have been okay at this point. She wanted to lie down, close her eyes, and shut out the world, at least for a short while. She stayed in the car while Paolo set up camp for them.
Even though he put up the tent and arranged everything else they needed quickly, Lena fell into a light sleep while she waited.
“Amore, everything is ready. Come now.” Paolo helped Lena over to the tent. She barely managed to kick off her shoes before climbing into her sleeping bag. Within seconds, she was asleep again.
Her dreams would be deep and otherworldly. They’d take her to a place she would struggle to return from. The edges between the worlds were already blurring.
Asara and Anak looked at each other worriedly. They stood outside of the open doorway to Sina’s room where Tahn and two of the other temple masters fussed over her limp body, trying to make her comfortable. The twins glimpsed Tahn leaning over Sina, applying a healing ointment to the laceration on her head. From the smell that wafted out into the hallway, Asara identified it as some of the same ointment that Kaanra had gifted them. While Tahn was a skilled healer, he hadn’t surpassed Kaanra as an herbalist, and Tahn used the superior ointment Kaanra had made to speed up Sina’s healing.
Soaked in her blood, Sina’s raven hair had matted around the wound, and the severity of the blow to her head only became obvious once Tahn cleared this distraction. Sina’s attacker crushed her skull. Flecks of flesh and bone crumpled away as Tahn disinfected with the gentleness of a butterfly, swooping in and out to remove what ought not be there, leaving the healthy tissue intact.
Finally, when he’d done all he could, Tahn covered the wound with a light gauze material so it would aerate while staying clean. Then he made himself comfortable in a chair by the bed; he’d take the first shift of watch. Tahn was spreading his hands open toward Sina’s head when the other masters exited the room and pulled the door shut behind them, but not before Asara glimpsed faint light coming from Tahn’s hands. He was using the light source energy that all of Creator’s children could connect with. She’d witnessed this energy—the Creator’s divine healing energy—perform miracles before. She prayed for such a miracle now, but she understood that only the Creator knew what was ultimately best in any given situation.
Although like most humans, Tahn had wished to find out the future many times before, believing it would make immediate choices easier, life had taught him that what he thought was the best might not be so.
In that exact moment, a hawk flew across Sina’s open window, its distinctive call trailing behind it. Tahn smiled a knowing smile, and his heart swelled in gratitude at the message the hawk brought with his fly-by. Hawks saw the big picture; they looked at the world from above and discovered what the mouse from its vantage point on the ground couldn’t see.
As the last of the hawk’s call dissipated into the air above and the river water below, Tahn released any expectation concerning Sina’s recovery. Whatever was best for everyone involved would occur, even if that meant Sina would die.
With a placid smile, Tahn stood, hovering his hands over Sina’s head. They were already warm from the energy streaming through them.
Things were back to normal with the pupils of the Temple of Laresu’u Kal, at least that’s what it seemed like. They’d completed their morning moving meditation behind schedule, but the ancient ritual had returned inner peace to them after the chaotic morning. As the pupils went about their daily chores, their thoughts turned less and less frequently to the smoke attack and to their ailing master.
As children ranging in age from seven to twenty-one were prone to do, laughter and play became a greater part of the day. Of course, not one of the students realized what was at stake. Dann’s final prophecy was wholly unknown to them. They were unaware of the severity of Sina’s injuries and of the absence of Master Kaanra from the temple grounds. They were unaware of the importance of the twins’ destiny or what they’d done in their absence from Arnaka. And so the students focused on the peaceful principles they learned from temple life, finding joy and astonishment in the beautiful surprises of life.
Asara and Anak weren’t similarly unencumbered; they were familiar with the dangers of this world. They vividly understood that there was a war going on, one that could not only take lives, but worse, claim light. Ordinarily, they would turn to Master Kaanra for wisdom and guidance. But he was gone. They didn’t know where he’d gone or how long he’d be away.
They couldn’t talk to Sina about this mysterious prophecy either. She was clearly unable to help them. That left only Tahn. He may have something to contribute, but he was uninformed about what Asara and Anak had confronted while they were away. Asara didn’t know how familiar Tahn was with the etheric war going on. But he was the logical choice, and so the twins made their way back into the hall that bordered Sina’s room.
The twins understood that whatever course they chose to take, there was no time to spare. This final prophecy was important enough to send Kaanra off in search of the mysterious doman, lamenting that the time had come for him to do something he wished he didn’t have to do. Asara and Anak had already done much they wished they didn’t have to do, and they hoped Kaanra was wrong in believing they’d be pushed once more to do something lamentable.
Anak steadied himself, and then he rapped on Sina’s bedroom door. The sound was soft out of respect for the ailing master within.
There was no answer. The twins found that odd and, after the unexpectedness of this morning’s attack, Anak grew alarmed and gently pushed the weathered wooden door open. Immediately, the twins realized why there had been no answer to their knock.
Tahn stood above Sina with his eyes closed. His hands hovered above the gaping wound in her left temple, but Tahn was barely in his body anymore. He’d become more than a human inside a body; he was an etheric being standing on this earth.
He streamed pure light energy from above, through hands pointed at Sina. Tahn’s personal energy remained intact. He used none of it. He tapped into something else entirely. He accessed something gentle and loving, something powerful and infinite, something otherworldly and divine, and that force was healing Sina rapidly.
Asara and Anak stood in awe at the beauty of what their eyes encountered. Not only was there a swirling of light and color beneath Tahn’s hands, but he himself was glowing a soft incandescent yellow. The twins had witnessed Tahn’s healing gifts before, but they’d never seen him like this.
Asara was surprised to find tears moistening her cheeks. The intensity of the scene they walked in on overwhelmed her. She knew, with renewed vigor, what she’d always known: there was hope for the world. There was great light in humanity, enough light to vanquish darkness with finality. Love was a powerful force, and it could bring about miracles. It could move mountains. And she and Anak would do whatever they needed to do to move mountains.
With a predictable shared knowingness, the twins backed out of Sina’s bedroom and pulled the door closed behind them without making a sound. They couldn’t interrupt such a moment.
Tahn never opened his eyes. He never looked up. He never even heard them enter the room. His consciousness was somewhere else, connected to something greater than any o
f them. It was this magic that illuminated the room.
Asara and Anak would try again to talk with Tahn before leaving. But regardless of what Tahn might say, the twins already sensed their return to Arnaka would be short lived. They’d have to venture out into the unknown once more.
They didn’t know where Kaanra went or even what he was truly looking for. They didn’t know what additional demands might be placed on them. But it didn’t matter.
Their friends needed them now. The twins might not have discovered what a doman was or what the final prophecy entailed, but they were certain a great injustice had claimed their friends. Extraterrestrials stole the cousins’ souls in a clear violation of sacred universal law, and the brave Baldub and Carn pursued their attackers into the dark unknown to rectify the injustice.
Until Asara and Anak learned of a more important task, they could begin by supporting their spirit family. The cousins’ souls must be recovered to allow for their further reincarnation into human bodies, and Baldub and Carn could use the support of their fellow light warriors. When the twins last saw them, Baldub and Carn were jumping through a hole that connected them to another world.
Neither Asara nor Anak knew which plane the extraterrestrials came from, or really anything else about them, but they were keenly aware of the love they felt for their friends and the importance of the preservation of universal law. They’d set out to find Baldub and Carn and the lost souls of Veena, Mohan, and Osarus. If fortune was on their side, they’d head in the right direction to be able to assist Kaanra with his mission as well.
They were convinced they had to leave, but how do you follow friends who vanished into an inter-dimensional hole, which closed permanently a moment later? Anak reached for Asara’s hand. They headed toward the River Haakal.