by Lucia Ashta
Sina’s strong yet quiet voice pierced the stillness of the room, dominating the room and everyone in it.
“Ashta, Anak, take a seat. There is something we must tell you.”
Ashta held Sina’s stare while she took a seat across the table from her and the other five masters.
“Master Kaanra left in the night after prolonged deliberations with the rest of us.”
Sina looked to the left and to the right, and the masters on both sides nodded, indicating they had reached some kind of agreement.
“Master Kaanra left to seek the doman.” The word doman hung in the air. The other masters got nervous at the word; it was obvious by their sudden fidgeting. Neither Ashta nor Anak had heard the word before. What was it and why would it prompt such a reaction in these elders?
“Master Kaanra warned us that you do not know of the prophecy that concerns the doman. It is only known in the temples, and it is but a few elders that hold the knowledge.
“Now, you must know too.”
She made measured eye contact with each of the other masters before proceeding. Ashta watched them make a subtle gesture of encouragement, assuring Sina they were on board with the inevitable course of action they had settled on.
“Long before you were born, a prophet named Dann told of the birth of twins.”
Ashta and Anak nodded in response. They knew this story already. Kaanra had told them the prophecy that forecasted their births a long time ago. It was this same prophecy that foretold that the twins would change the world when it needed it most.
“What you do not know is that he also shared another prophecy, one that very few people alive know. He told it to his daughter when he was dying, and even she did not believe it then.
“Dann died when he was thirty-three. He was young and had a sharp mind. But his daughter decided the prophecy sounded too crazy, even for him. She concluded they were the wild rantings of a mind that was too far into the other world to make sense in this one.
“Dann, always wise even in his reclusive ways, realized his daughter’s true intentions despite her assurances that she would share the message. He saw disbelief in her eyes. She was only telling him she would share his message in an attempt to give him peace as he transitioned to the next world.
“With his dying strength, Dann insisted she hand him parchment and a stick of mineral he kept for writing. His hand shook as he wrote. He wrote just fifty-five words, but they were words that could revolutionize the world.
“He rolled up the parchment until it was very small, then opened a miniature vial of elixir he kept around his neck, emptied the elixir into his mouth, and put the parchment within the vial. The elixir was a plant medicine that hastened his departure to the other world. He left before he was able to close the parchment within the vial fully.
“But his daughter did. When she saw how important those words were for her father, even though she did not believe they were the product of lucid thought, she enclosed them securely within the vial and unfastened the chord from her father’s neck. She clasped the necklace around her own neck and was standing over the body of her dead father when an assassin who had been dispatched to kill him and any witnesses to his wisdom slit her throat.
“The assassin and his overlord believed the death of the prophet and his daughter prevented the possibility that Dann’s final prophecy could leak into the world. But the assassin did not notice the miniature vial hidden between the breasts of Dann’s daughter. Her wild black hair and tunic concealed the chord of the necklace, and the secret within the vial survived when the assassin would have certainly taken it to his lord for great reward.
“As it was, the bodies of Dann and his daughter were thrown into a shallow pit and covered with dirt and sand. Dann’s only living sister, a woman connected to the earth’s messages in ways that no one else was, knew the moment that Dann’s body was laid to rest. She felt the moment the earth accepted her niece with tenderness, and Dann’s sister set out to find the bodies. She intended to honor them as they deserved, but when she found the bodies two days of travel later, she knew there was more to it.
“The vial’s hidden secret beckoned with its knowledge. Like a beacon, the earth signaled its importance to her. Dann’s sister wore the vial and its precious parchment until the time of her death approached, and then she passed it on to her daughter.
“Dann’s sister was my direct blood ancestor. Now, it is I who carry the weight of this secret, and it is a great responsibility.”
Sina’s eyes showed a mixture of honor and duty. The universe had entrusted her with a great task. Not even the shrill cry that pierced the external silence of the temple shook the stoicism of Sina’s eyes.
3 Smoke and Mirrors
The other five temple masters and the twins ran toward the sound of panic without hesitation. Not one of them noticed that Sina remained behind.
Although Master Sina was now responsible for leading the students at the temple, she had an obligation that was even greater than that. Her first thoughts went to the vial she wore around her neck. Dann’s final prophecy in the wrong hands could be devastating. Sina turned on her heels and went in the opposite direction as the others. She was heading for a secret tunnel that would take her straight to the river. The temple had several tunnels with different exits. It was a precautionary measure that proved unnecessary most of the time.
Sina’s instincts were correct. The signs pointed to there being some sort of accident with the pupils, but somewhere deep within, Sina knew this was not the case. She responded to the urgent call to protect the information that was entrusted to her upon her mother’s death, and she looked for the way to flee. Unfortunately, she would not succeed.
Sina thought she had managed to escape as she made her way steadily through the tunnel toward the water. The tunnel was rarely used; moss and mildew clung to its damp stonewalls, making the walkway slick and dangerous. Sina placed her footfalls carefully. When she finally reached the gate that would lead her to the river, Sina leaned all of her body weight into it to push it open.
To conceal the tunnel entrance, several generations of temple masters had encouraged vines and moss to hang over it. Trees shadowed the entrance and all but hid it from view. What remained visible, the vines concealed. Just as Sina believed that she had made it, everything went dark. She did not even see her attacker.
The chaos died down slowly. It took a while for the remaining temple masters to discover that no one was hurt, only scared. The attackers had employed tactics of fear expertly. In the pandemonium, none of the pupils could explain what it was exactly that had made them feel threatened.
The attackers at the Temple of Laresu'u Kal that day made each of the students feel vulnerable and isolated by using some kind of concoction that produced a dark, black-swarming smoke. The smoke blinded the pupils to their surroundings. They panicked, even though they knew how important it was to hold inner peace no matter what the circumstances. A student screamed, contributing to everyone’s sense of fear.
Students were running into each other, trying to get out of harm’s way. Their chaotic energy kept building until soon every pupil was terrified. The smoke was so dark and thick that they could not see their hands in front of their faces.
The smoke did not seem to be of this realm; it carried within it the void of all things, a heaviness that was inexplicable. It brought with it emotions of desperation and absolute defeat. Students felt alone, in smoke so deep and dense that they seemed forever lost in an inkwell. The students believed there was no returning from the place they were going.
The sight was shocking for Ashta and Anak, and especially so for the temple masters that had run toward the source of the noise. To see students with such a firm foundation in the usage of energy succumb so readily to the illusions of darkness was stunning. All of them knew how to hold an impregnable energetic field, or so the masters had thought.
Five temple masters, wearing identical white linen robes, golden
pendants of a six-pointed star within a perfect circle, and braided hair down the center of their backs, also shared the same bewildered expression. How could it be that these students, some quite advanced in their training, would react like this to a show of smoke and mirrors? Even if the reasons for fear were real, the pupils there were well prepared to react in the opposite way they had.
The masters momentarily focused on staving off the enormous disappointment that came from seeing their life’s work seemingly wasted; the masters knew better than to allow for disappointment. Unlike their pupils, they stood strong in their knowingness. They would not let the illusions of the dark dictate their emotions.
They breathed in a great sense of calm and waited. They waited for the dark smoke to dissipate and for their students to see the error of their ways on their own. But that did not happen.
There must be dark magic at play here, Master Tahn thought. The students’ reactions were illogical. After Sina, Tahn was the next natural leader of the temple. Temple masters were neither elected as leaders, nor were they appointed. Within the group of seven temple masters, they recognized where they were at in their individual spiritual growth and understanding. They had released enough of the human ego’s control to know objectively who could best guide them. And so Tahn, a gentle man of advanced middle age, took over. The pupils needed leadership now.
“You will stay still wherever you are,” his voice rang out over the remnants of chaos, even though he had not raised his voice at all.
“You will focus on your breath. You will breathe in calm, each time breathing out more and more slowly.
“You will remember who you are and where you came from. You are no mere mortals. You are divine souls. You are strong and powerful, connected always to your Creator with knowingness.”
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 did not blame herself for how she had reacted. She knew that blame did not 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 was not 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 are safe,” Tahn told the pupils with the same calm voice that he always used with them.
He turned to the other masters and to Ashta and Anak.
“Master Sina is not with us. Let us 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 was not within the temple walls. They reassembled in the courtyard.
Tahn gasped. It was only then that it dawned on him.
“The tunnels!”
Ashta 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 would 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 is happening?”
They nodded and stepped forward. Tahn talked to Ashta and Anak over his shoulder as he walked off.
“Ashta, Anak, please come with me.”
Ashta 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. Ashta marveled at the tunnel system that neither she nor Anak had even known existed. Where else did the tunnels lead? Did every one of the temples of Arnaka have a hidden tunnel system like this?
Ashta 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 was not 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 could immediately gauge the severity of her situation. Without realizing it, he was shaking his head. It did not look good. Sina’s heart still beat, but the pulsing of her heart 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. There were times when the body was too far gone. If it was her time to transition in Creator’s design, then there was nothing Tahn could do. He would do everything he could to help her recover, but it was ultimately up to Creator; everything always was.
Ashta and Anak did not have to ask for the prognosis. They too could sense 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, sitting down in its place. He pulled Sina’s 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 will need to move slowly and surely.”
Tahn turned his eyes up toward Ashta and Anak. The seeds of tears blurred his rich, brown eyes.
“Go. Now.”
With their backs already turned, neither Ashta 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 knew that must be the reason Sina was targeted for attack. Tahn realized it was likely that Sina would have 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 did not 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 had 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 had 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 could not be certain that the attack was because of Dann’s final prophecy, but she would not take a chance. She tucked the parchment underneath her tunic and kept running.
Seconds later, she crumbled to the ground. Her last second 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 Sina woke—destiny had named him guardian of the final prophecy. Although he was not 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 chose to conceal and protect Dann’s final prophecy without knowing its content. At least for now, everyone remained safer this way. If Tahn did not know what the final prophecy was, he could not put thoughts of it out in the energetic waves of the universe. Thoughts of it could become a beacon to those that monitored the energy of light and of dark and everything in between.
Yes, 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. Tahn put 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.