The WorldMight

by Cyril L. C. Bussiere

  “Hi Jonan,” Cassien and Aria replied in unison.

  “It’s great,” Cassien said. “There’s loads of music and dances! This season’s passing festival is going to be great!”

  “Sure seems like it. And good for business too. I think there are more people from out of town than usual.”

  Jonan glanced at the long line of customers behind them.

  “Anyway, sorry to be short, but I got customers. What can I get you?”

  “Sweet Roll!” they shouted as one.

  “And a nut cake!” Cassien added.

  Jonan handed them the goods while Cassien dropped a couple of coins on the counter.

  “You should check out the Great Temple square. I hear there’s going to be a bonfire and some skyfires tonight.”

  Cassien handed one of the sweet rolls to Aria, shoved the other one in his mouth and broke the nut cake in half to make it fit in the pockets of Aria’s coat.

  “We bear tinging of going to de Temble anybay,” Cassien said as he chewed on his sweet roll.

  Aria let out a laugh.

  “He means to say that we were thinking of going there already,” she translated.

  “Well, you two have fun, then!”

  “See you Jonan,” they cheered before heading toward the door of the bakery.

  Cassien slipped in his wool shirt, grabbed Aria’s hand, and led her out into the festive night. They trotted through the crowded streets hand in hand, laughing up a storm as they went, and soon reached the Great Temple square where a large bonfire had been erected. They had not heard the skyfires while on their way, so they were still to come. They picked a spot on the steps leading to the Great Temple and sat side by side, facing the bonfire. Cassien immediately started on his half of the nut cake while Aria lost herself in the moving flames of the fire. The night was slowly moving on; the moon was high in the sky now and the coolness of dusk was giving way to the coldness of night. Aria’s face tingled lightly in the opening of her hood. They sat in silence while Cassien ate, both content in the other’s presence. Eventually, Aria broke the silence.

  “I see rolling woods pleading for Hethens’s Breath, their arms up to the skies, fingers stretched in longing.”

  Cassien knew the game. He stared intently at the bonfire and let his mind roll with the flames. Shortly after he said:

  “I see souls like steel, soft and weak in the flames of Cythra. But blows on them the Breath of Hethens and they harden into sharpness.”

  “I see living lands longing for travels, up and up they yearn to go,” Aria said next.

  “I see laughing prayers, hot swirls of breath, rising from children of silence,” Cassien said.

  “I see hands starving for touch. They live amongst many but breathe always alone,” Aria said.

  “I see shadows stirring where none thought to look. They want to rise and cloak the sun.”

  As they played their game of words and mist, Aria mindlessly put her hand onto Cassien’s. It felt so natural that, as they let their minds move to the rhythm of the flames, neither of them truly noticed. The night blazed away from then on. The skyfires eventually came low above the Great Temple. By then the stairs were filled with people and the crowd echoed the cracks and licks of the skyfires with its cheers. Once the skyfires were done, Cassien and Aria walked to the Great Temple where he showed her the decorations he had helped put up that afternoon with some of the younger orphans. Brother Arhlyl was still working at that late hour. Perched on a tall ladder he was tying incent burners to the capital of the temple’s massive columns. They greeted him briefly and then went deeper into the temple to the chancel. There, in the light of hundreds of candles, Cassien showed off the large tapestry of the Slumber of Hethens they had put up behind the celebrative platform from which Baccus spoke of Hethens to the people of Syndjya. He also pointed out to Aria the ends of the stone benches which had been adorned with green Berrywood branches, and the base of the columns which were now surrounded by sprays of flowers. Large banners hung high between every other column and although it was too dark for Aria to make out what they depicted, experience dictated that half were portrayal of Hethens and the rest were one variation or another of her family’s blazon.

  Afterward, they lost themselves again in the increasingly jovial and raucous stream of festival goers. They eventually found their way to the Doings Plaza where they enjoyed the music of a foreign string quartet. The delicate music seemed out of place in the cacophony of that pre-festival night and it had to struggle its way above the brouhaha of the crowd. Cassien and Aria shared a pint of spicy ale as they huddled against the growing cold.

  Later, they walked back to the artisan quarter which had grown quieter into the night and eventually found themselves alone in one of the small parks CaupHaut was scattered with. Aria was holding on to Cassien’s arm as they talked in hushed voices about the events of the day.

  “I think Nikos knows about you and I hanging out,” Cassien was telling her. “I’m not sure how, but he was pretty obvious about it.”

  A tension rose in Aria’s throat, and panic sent a thousand fear-fuelled thoughts through her head.

  “Are you sure? Is he going to say anything?” she asked.

  “It didn’t seem like such a big deal when he brought it up. He sure had a good laugh at my expense, though. I’m not sure what gave it away, we’re usually so cautious.”

  “Well, as long as he keeps it to himself. I’d loath for my parents to learn about it and confine me to the castle grounds.”

  She held on to Cassien’s arm more tightly and they made their way around the park, each silently lost in his thoughts. The slowly fading festivities echoed in the night around them: drums, songs, and drunken laughter lost in the ever-present hum of human activities. As they neared the point where they had entered the park, Cassien stepped in front of Aria and took her hands in his. He looked at her for a long moment, shivering slightly in the rising midnight wind, his face a confused tableau of too many emotions. Aria waited in silence, eyes locked into his, a quiet trembling rising inside of her. His face was so lovely, so gorgeous, and most importantly so open to her. There was nothing he ever tried to hide from her and it meant the world to her; especially since no one else in her life had ever been remotely themselves around her. Right then, she could see so much in the soft lines of his face; how much he cared about her, his fear to see what they had change, his need for her presence, her friendship.

  “Aria,” he said softly.

  His brown eyes shone with an unusual intensity and the shadows across his face enhanced the subtle changes in his expression. He hesitated for a brief moment then a fleeting light she had never seen before splashed over his features and he looked away. A flash of warmth suddenly mounted in Aria’s chest and her world narrowed to an eager pull that beat in her ears to the rhythm of her heart. When his eyes dawned onto hers once again, a new desire had awoken in them. Sudden his hands in hers were not enough. More than she had ever wanted a thing in her life, she wanted to be close to him, to touch him, to feel him. The warm tingle spread to her groin again but this time she did not feel self-conscious of it. Cassien tried to say something again but the words would not cross his lips. Aria inched her face closer to his and in response he pulled her to him. In the cold windy night their breath was warm on the other’s face. They were slowly inching closer when a shadow flashed at the periphery of their vision. Branches ruffled to their left. Cassien twisted around and positioned himself between her and the general direction of the disturbance. Aria found herself flattened against his back, peering over his shoulder into the heavy shadows of a grove. Nothing moved in the night. Only the distant sounds of the city could be heard. Her hands on Cassien’s back, Aria could sense a feral intensity building up in his shoulders; a tension different from the one that had occupied him only moments before, something more relaxed and more savage at the same time. Cassien slowly stepped backward and Aria followed.

  “We should go,” he said
in a low voice.

  He turned around and once again grabbed her hand; though this time his grip was firmer, his pull more pressing, far less gentle. Confusion, fear, excitement, desire –more emotions than she could account for- swirled through Aria as he led her down the streets of CaupHaut.

  “Cassien, hold on! What is going on?” she pleaded.

  Regret too, at the moment gone and what could have been. Cassien did not slow down or stop until they were in one of the more crowded streets where merchants were closing shops amidst the light flow of people heading home or to the inn for the night. It was at the sight of the castle that Aria realized where they were. Without him saying a thing she knew the night was over.

  “Sorry,” Cassien finally said. “Something didn’t feel right. Someone was there, someone with…”

  For a beat he struggled to find the right words to convey what he had felt back at the park and then settled with the simplest.

  “bad intentions.” he finished.

  Aria studied his face for an instant. She longed for the desire that was now gone, them being so close. But his face told her that the moment had passed, at least for tonight.

  “Alright,” she said, “I trust you. Was it a thief, or something else?”

  “I don’t know, but I think you should go back to the castle. I’ll walk you to the usual spot.”

  An uncomfortable silence weighing heavily over them they walked the few blocks that led to the castle road. Cassien, concern written all over his face, furtively looked around the whole way. An ominous uneasiness and the desire they had so shortly shared rumbled awkwardly between them. They arrived at the bottom of the road, which sloped up gently toward the northern gate of the castle. He hugged her fiercely and bid her an abrupt goodnight. Fresh panic flowered in Aria’s throat. So much was left unsaid, unresolved. This was so unlike them that it scared her.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked avidly, willing her voice not to crack and tears not to spring from her eyes.

  His face took a stern look.

  “Probably not,” he said.

  A sharp pain blossomed in her chest as he went on.

  “We are getting the processional weapons tomorrow afternoon. It’s going to be a lot of work, so I’ll be at the weapon barn most of the evening and maybe late into the night.”

  He paused for a second. His face eased a little, letting go of some of the worry that had been painted there since the park.

  “But I’ll see you the day after, for the festival,” he said with a small smile. “Same spot as usual?”

  The relief that overtook Aria almost felt like too much to deal with. She suddenly had the urge to be alone, to be able to let go and cry and laugh and let the whirlwind of emotions that built inside of her all night spin free. They quickly agreed to try to meet in two days’ time, right after the evening procession, on the Great Temple’s stairs. As they were saying goodbye, Aria raised herself on the tip of her toes and she left a kiss on his cheek. She immediately turned away, her heart racing at what she had just done and rushed toward the castle, leaving Cassien standing alone with a rather funny expression on his face.

  Sneaking back into the castle proved easy. In truth, Aria was so absorbed in the events of the night that she went through the motions without really realizing it. When she finally came out of her thoughts, she was in the Corridor of Beasts by the door leading to the main hall. She stopped in front of the tallow-covered door. She felt so tired. It had all been too much for a single night. She took a deep breath and told herself that, despite the cold loneliness of her room, sleep would put a temporary end to her inner turmoil. She slowly opened the door ajar and sneaked a peak. A guard was on watch-duty at the end of the great hall by the keep’s main door. He was slowly pacing back and forth in front of the large door leaves, the heaviness of the night shift already evident in his posture. Muffled voices came from the hallway opposite the stairs. She narrowed the opening of the door to a slit and waited. His Highness Baccus appeared in the mouth of the hallway. He nodded to the guard and in a tired gait made his way to the stairs. He disappeared from Aria’s field of vision and the soft echo of his slow steps trailed behind him for a while before disappearing. Aria waited a bit and was about to come out when more voices came from the same direction. Seconds later, her parents emerged from the darkness of the hallway. They were holding hands, walking close to each other; her mom had her free hand resting on the king’s chest and her head rested slightly on his shoulder. They were whispering to each other as they walked. The sight of her parents behaving like youngsters in love surprised Aria, and it spread some comforting warmth through the confusion that had made its bed in her head. She smiled to herself; they seemed so close, so comfortable. The thought of Cassien and her, older and in the same situation, rose in her mind and sent another wave of desire through her body. Her parents reached the bottom of the staircase and Aria was confused when she saw sadness on her their features. As they stepped onto the stairs, their voices reached her, clear in the silence of the keep.

  “The throne will remain in the hands of a GrandJoy no matter what,” her father was saying. “It matters not if Alymphia’s sovereign is a king or a queen.”

  “Indeed,” her mother nodded softly. “When will you tell her?” she asked

  “At the season’s passing festival. That’s when I will announce the change to Alymphia as well, with the trusteds at my side.”

  “And Hob? I’m worried about him. He’ll be furious that the throne goes to Aria.”

  The world suddenly felt void of air and Aria’s heart seemed to stop beating in her chest.

  “I’ll have to tell him before that. Tomorrow then…”

  Numbness spread over her as her parents’ voices receded and vanished up the stairs.

  “Throne… Aria…”

  The world turned white as feelings and thoughts drained from her. Her vision filled with stars, her throat tightened and nausea washed over her. Her knees buckled under her and she landed heavily on the stone floor, the pain barely registering as her mind went into a semi-coherent frenzy.

  “The throne to me, not Hob…I’d be queen.”

  “No. it’s not possible.”

  “I’d be Queen of Alymphia.”

  The heaviness of the news hit her squarely in the stomach and the spicy ale and sweet roll threatened to work their way out of her. She brought her hands to her mouth and forced a swallow as the taste of bile filled her mouth.

  “A queen must have a king; a king to rule by her side.”

  “A queen must marry a noble, a noble only.”

  “Cassien, I’ll never be with Cassien.”

  Her eyes widened. Heavy tears flowed freely down her face and her hands and landed in quiet splashes on the dusty floor. She felt a scream coming up her throat and pressed her hands to her mouth as hard as she could, trapping her pain into silent sobs that shook her hard. She closed her eyes and, hidden to the world in the stillness of the Corridor of Beasts, she lay alone, her life crumbling around her.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Near the slopes of the Great Barrier, Alymphia.

  Year Hundred and Thirty of the New Age.

  “It begins in a faraway land with the meeting of two lovers. He was the son of a woodworker and his name was Retens. She was the daughter of a lordling and her name was Kytra. They were youths but their minds were vast and their wisdom as deep as the sky. It is often said that their meeting was the will of the old gods, but that is nonsense. Like most things in life, their meeting was due to chance and nothing else.

  “Early one moonless morning, before the first lights of dawn, Retens and Kytra were walking the path of the woodcutters in one of the dense forests that covered their homeland. Eyes closed and deeply absorbed in the world surrounding them they moved silently, with every breath diving further within. For, you see, despite their young age they already experienced both worlds as one; they were indeed gifted beyond their years. And it was in that state
of absent presence that they walked into one another. The stories say that they fell in love the instant their breaths crossed paths, without having even seen each other’s face; for they met more open and truly themselves than anyone before them in the eons of our walking this world.

  “Once together, they were to never part. Soon after their meeting they left their homes to find peace on a mountain side unspoiled by the presence of men. Their families objected, indeed, and tried to prevent them from leaving. But their resolve was other-worldly and they eventually found a way to leave, unbeknownst to any.

  “For thirty years they lived an ascetic life, surviving off the meager offerings of the land around them and dwelling day and night ever further inward. Together they went deeper than anyone before them. They widened their understanding of themselves and hence of the world, and eventually they pierced the veils of the world and revealed its trine nature.

  “Their love, it is said, was the essential element in their boundless advances on the path. You see, it was their feelings for one another that were the enablers of the connection, the link. It was the first time that two individuals were able to connect in such a deep way that they could share the burden of their experiences, quite literally.

  “For thirty years, they refined their understanding of what is and developed the techniques that allowed them to reach the unseen layers of the world and eventually manipulate them. For thirty years they were undisturbed in their quest for truth.

  “But one day, as they were sitting as they did every day in the shade of an old twisted tree, they felt an unusual disturbance in the layers. A few hours later a young shepherd who had led his flock much higher than he usually did came upon them. Retens and Kytra were as surprised as the shepherd was at the impromptu encounter. They must have looked quite wild and mad, but the young man was not afraid. He himself spent much time alone in inward reflection and the depth of their wisdom was not lost on him.