The Son of Nepal

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The Son of Nepal Page 10

by J.J Sylvester


  “That’s it, come, I won’t let anything happen to either of you, Pema.”

  “How do you know Mama’s name?” said Rinzen, speaking into Johannan’s ear.

  Pema jolted, withdrawing her hand. How does he know my name if Rinzen never told him?

  Johannan turned around and saw the image of himself waving towards the sky. He spun back and thrust his hand out.

  “Come, Pema, we haven’t much time.”

  She extended her shaking hand with unease. Johannan could feel the faint, delicate tremble within his grasp. He helped her down, and as they journeyed through the walls of shimmering ice, Pema refused to release her hand from his hold. Johannan knew she was frightened, but making her feel safe in his presence was something he found most rewarding.

  They made it across, and Pema glanced at Johannan’s face, “T-thank you.”

  Johannan nodded and placed Rinzen on the ground.

  “What is your name, nice man?” said Rinzen.

  Pema smiled, looking at him.

  “Johannan—my name is Johannan, little Rinzen.”

  Pema covered her mouth. “How do you know our names?”

  The corners of his mouth lifted. “My Master’s servant, he was the one that told me.”

  Pema displayed an expression of confusion.

  “My Master is a great spirit, his servant was the one that provided us with all the food we ate in the wilderness.”

  Pema remained quiet but maintained a concerned look on her face. Johannan could see that he needed to explain further.

  “The Master is here now, but you can’t see him because he is a spirit.” He grabbed a few strands of his hair. “But, whenever my hair turns to this colour, he is present. I think he is waiting for my signal to close the river,” said Johannan, rubbing the back of his head, “but I’m not sure.”

  He approached the edge of the bank. “Stay there and watch.”

  He waved to the sky, and the walls of ice began to crack at the bottom, releasing a great sound of filling waters. The colossal barricades of ice broke into pieces and floated away.

  Johannan turned around and looking at the two of them. “See!”

  Pema pointed at his hair. “Your hair has gone black again, does that mean he is gone?”

  Johannan nodded.

  “Where are we going?” said Pema

  “He will lead us. I’ve been following those geese circling in the sky.”

  Pema looked up and saw the geese. Now it was time for her to get some answers.

  CHAPTER 25

  The Wandering Spirit

  A fire crackled and snapped, and crickets chirped their nocturnal melody. The sky was dark, speckled with thousands of stars scattered like glowing sand across the vast dome of darkness. The dominion of the moon was subtle for its size, and the howls of night creatures were like several notes played on a flute.

  Johannan stared with admiration for Rinzen, who fell sound asleep in his arms. Curly strands of her hair were pinned down by the small beads of perspiration that settled on her forehead.

  “She’s a good child,” said Johannan, leaning his head back to face Pema.

  Pema yawned and stretched her arms. “She . . . has . . . grown really fond of you.”

  “Here, take her,” said Johannan, easing himself up to return Rinzen to Pema.

  Pema cradled Rinzen in her arms, shushing and rocking her to settle her back down. She angled her gaze to the night sky and saw the bright star shimmering above them.

  “Is that him? Your Master, watching over you?”

  Johannan laughed. Pema had asked this question on so many nights. It seemed as though she felt safer confirming that he was up there.

  “Yes, that is my Master. The same star that followed me when I came out of the desert. No matter where I go, it’s always directly above me.”

  Pema rested her chin on her hand. “How come I never get to see this Aneo who has been leaving food out for us? I wish to thank him myself.”

  “I wonder the same thing, but I think he just doesn’t want to be seen by anyone else. Shall I pass on your feelings of gratitude?”

  “Yes, do so,” said Pema. She appeared to have many questions that night. It was evident that she had been keeping them locked in for some time.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you . . .” Pema hesitated, but Johannan smiled in a way that insisted that she continue with the question. “How did you get into this situation, with this spirit?”

  Pema’s eyes locked in with intensity as Johannan explained everything, right back to where he had left home. The sudden look on Pema’s face betrayed the fact that she felt sorry for him and for Ayushi.

  “You met this spirit in the Gobi desert,” she said, turning her deepened focus to the ground. “That’s strange.”

  “Why do you say that?” The Gobi desert was the last thing Johannan would have thought was strange.

  “Well, our ancestors, Hong and Wenling, met a wandering, all-powerful spirit over a thousand years ago in the Gobi desert. Our people were a group of sickly nomads who were healed by this spirit.”

  Johannan’s eyebrows closed in to display a search through his thoughts. “Are you thinking that my Master and that spirit are one and the same?”

  “How could it not be so?” replied Pema, ready to reject any other possible answers. “There was a song passed down to us, and it spoke about him. It must be him—your Master.”

  “Things are strangely making sense. It seems like the Master had his own business with your people.” Johannan lowered his head to look at Pema’s flickering image through the crackling fire. “I am sorry for the destruction of your home, Pema.”

  “It’s not your fault. At least now I know that.” She bowed her head, and it appeared as if she felt a shame for hating and even trying to kill Johannan. “It seems like the wandering spirit has favoured you with great power. What are you going to do with it?”

  “It’s hardly a power, Pema. I can’t even control it, and what’s worse, I don't even know what I am doing half the time.”

  “I'm sure you will learn what you must do in time. Why not ask his servant, Aneo?”

  Johannan sighed as he clapped his forehead against his palm. It described the situation with more words than he could say at that moment. “Aneo likes to speak in riddles. He ignores my questions and remains quiet. But I will—no, I must keep on trying.”

  “Yes, you must! So, where do you think this wandering spirit is leading us?”

  “Bhutan.”

  One side of Pema’s mouth lifted. “Sounds like one of those names that makes a place sound so far away. I have never been this far away from my home before.” She yawned again. “Anyway, I think we better get some sleep. We are going to need the rest if we are to get to this Bhutan.”

  CHAPTER 26

  The whisps

  “Arise, Son of Nepal.”

  Johannan vaulted from where he was laying down.

  “Aneo, what’s going on?”

  It was breezy, very unusual, which indicated only one thing that made sense. “Are we back in the Everplanes?” said Johannan.

  Aneo turned his back, ready to leave. The radiance from his robes bathed the area in a silvery moonlit glow. “There are some things I must show you. Make haste.”

  Johannan sauntered closer. He glanced back and saw Pema, Rinzen, and himself fast asleep. “Where are we going?”

  Aneo paused, his hair exposing the direction of the gale. He pivoted to face Johannan.

  “To the next village. You will get there on foot, seven days from now. The Master has asked me to take you there and show you what you must do.” Aneo held out his hand. “Take my hand.”

  There was a white blur followed by javelins of light that fired towards them, and within seconds they appeared at a strange, small village. Half of the buildings were inside the mouth of a colossal cave, and everyone was fast asleep indoors. After he recovered from the surprise of their quick travel, som
ething that wasn’t too hard to miss caught Johannan’s attention.

  “What are these strange creatures doing outside some of the buildings?”

  Aneo explained, with a confident tone of expertise, “They are foul spirits called whisps that oppress the people with sickness and depression. Only ill fate awaits those who are bound to such things.”

  Johannan noticed that outside some of the houses were baskets filled with coins. Some were gold, others were silver and bronze. The foul goblin-like creatures raced through the village, knocking the baskets over to steal the scattered coins. It was a very disturbing and bizarre situation.

  “Aneo, why are these creatures interested in those baskets and coins?”

  “It is not the baskets they are interested in, Son of Nepal, but the coins. They are the levels of wealth permitted to each home, delivered by watchers and renewed every month. Every home in the world receives a basket. If a home manages to keep their baskets full, they will experience excess fortune for that month. The more gold, the greater the fortune.”

  “Well, the people can’t be doing that well, seeing that they are losing all their coins.”

  “Well perceived.”

  “I don’t understand . . . What will they do with these coins if they can’t see them?”

  “The coins are not for the people to spend, but they serve as a message to another team of watchers that will visit later. When they see the baskets, they take them. The amount tells them how long they can work towards the good fortune of that household. This is why it may seem that some people have more—what mankind has come to call—luck, than others.”

  Johannan wanted to make sure he was understanding what Aneo was saying. All this was too new to him.

  “So there are two teams of watchers involved, one delivers and the other works.”

  “Yes, it has always been this way.”

  “Then these creatures are making these people poor—the second team will come in and leave. Am I right, Aneo?”

  “Correct,” Aneo nodded.

  Is this the reason children are left to starve in villages, why people suffer? Johannan punched his palm. “We can’t allow this!”

  “The power is yours to expel them, Son of Nepal, but I advise that you must be patient.”

  They approached a medium-sized house made of wood, just under the top lip of the cave mouth. Johannan’s attention flicked to a rustling of a tree outside.

  “Look, Aneo! One of those creatures is eating all the fruits in this man’s field.” The casual turn of his head revealed that Aneo was not that interested.

  “When you return here in seven days, you will see that his crop cannot grow. It is because of this creature.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Once again you have exercised your talent to ask amiss. When you get here, call to the Master, and he will send a warrior to drive this beast away.”

  The term “warrior” reminded Johannan of that dreadful being who almost killed Pema and Rinzen in the wilderness, the Origin of War.

  “What are we doing here at this house?”

  “This is the house of the man who will be taking care of Pema and Rinzen from now on.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

  “This man will become Pema’s husband, and he will take care of her. The Master has seen the concern of your heart towards the child and her mother, and he has selected this man. His name is Liqin.”

  Johannan was a bit confused. Every night since they started talking, all Pema had ever spoken of was her family and the loss of Rinzen’s father.

  “But Pema still misses her family, I don’t see her getting married again.”

  “Do not perceive amiss, this will not happen straight away. The Master will open her heart, and she will be comforted, then she will marry Liqin after two years. When you return here, you must call on the Master to drive the beast away, so that they may live in peace. Failure to do so will submit them to poverty.”

  Johannan had grown used to the idea of travelling with Pema and Rinzen in the wilderness, but now it seemed like the Master wanted him to be alone again. Deep down, he could feel an unhappiness beginning to contaminate his being.

  Aneo observed Johannan, and he could see the news of them going separate ways had bothered him.

  “We must return for now, it is almost morning.” They left the village and walked back. Aneo maintained a few paces of distance ahead of Johannan.

  “Aneo, what is this strange power I am supposed to have? I don’t understand what I’m meant to do with it.”

  “You will learn of your role in time, Son of Nepal.”

  Johannan came to a halt. “I need to know now, Aneo.”

  Aneo sighed, pausing in his tracks, his forehead pointed to the ground. “Timing is everything but—very well. You are a Judge, the rare seventh level of the Master’s Ambassadors. There have been many Judges in history, all commanding different powers.”

  Johannan stood there listening, his face revealing a deep interest in what Aneo was saying.

  “However, you are different from the other Judges—”

  “How am I different?” said Johannan

  “The Master is with you at all times. This has never happened with a Judge before, and it has opened up another level of power that is available to man. Your predecessors had powers called Majestics. These powers allowed them to access the Majesty of the Muhandae.”

  “There is so much to learn, Aneo. It is amazing, to find out that there were others like me, who were given different abilities.”

  “All things are subject to the power of the Muhandae, and you have been granted access to that power. Over three hundred years ago there was a Judge who displayed the Majestics that commanded fire, and before her was another who demonstrated the command of the heavens. But history has waited a very long time for one who commands the Majestic of Judgment.”

  The situation at Pema’s village came to Johannan’s mind. The power of Judgment wasn’t exactly the type of power that he would have preferred, if given the choice.

  “Is that my power, Aneo, Judgment?” he said, hoping that Aneo would say no. But was there really a point in him asking? Even the Muhandae had said something along those lines. The problem was evident that the spirits Johannan had encountered loved to speak in mysteries, so that nothing was ever clear.

  “Yes, and you have displayed another. The river bowed down before you, Son of Nepal—this was a manifestation of the Majestics of Water. The water bows before the Majesty of the Muhandae. You may have more abilities, but only time will tell.”

  CHAPTER 27

  A glimpse into the future

  “Hurry, take ahold of my hand. The Master wishes to show you something else.” Aneo lifted his hand and asked the Soburin to take them to the next place.

  The dimmed radiance from Aneo’s robes flickered like a flame visited by a tender breeze. Then the room lit up, almost as if a dark curtain that hid the sun was drawn. Johannan scanned around to see that they were standing on a dusty hill. Aneo pointed towards the sky, and Johannan saw a motioned image of himself covering the entire ether. He was walking, with an unwavering confidence, towards an army of horsemen. Johannan noticed he was carrying a conical hat and a long bamboo flute, both strapped to the mid-sections of his back. Something was different, if not, odd.

  Soldiers, honed from the trials of many battles, stood tall, like a fortified wall of spears, swords, and arrows. Johannan felt that the image was nothing like him, this couldn’t be happening. After all, he wouldn’t be silly enough to stand defiantly before an army of dangerous men, the way this image was suggesting.

  There was a middle-aged man on horseback standing at the forefront of the army. Observing the intricate detail and colours of his armour, he appeared to be the general.

  “Is this what you want to use to protect your village with? A mere boy with his flute?” shouted an offended voice, addressing the unarmed people who co
wered behind Johannan.

  “Surrender your village, or you must all pay. Bring us the women, food, and lots of wine.”

  Johannan’s image spoke for the first time. “Oh?” he interrupted, his hat tilted back as he folded his arms, all too calm for this situation. “I take it by your dazzling armour that you are the general,” he said, releasing one arm to knock the dust off his clothes. “What are these people going to pay you with when they can barely survive on their own?”

  He bowed in thought. What if this man had approached my home and asked to take Ayushi by force? The thought angered him.

  “And leave their women alone, they are all taken! They are people, not dolls for your men to play with.”

  “You dare to speak to me like this, you insolent dog!”

  “General Zhen, right? I was just making a valid point. Perhaps you should consider taking your men and leave. There is nothing here for you—can’t you see that these people are poor and tired?”

  Johannan’s bold confidence had offended the general, and the high shrill of a sword drawn from its sheath with the experience of a skilled hand resounded in the fields. The general grunted, his sight narrowed on Johannan. Anger churned deep within the general, tight spasms and contractions moving from his belly to his neck.

  “Where did you hear that name, boy?”

  “You do not want to do what I think you are trying, Zhen,” said Johannan, throwing up an opened palm towards the general.

  Zhen forced a pitiful chuckle. “And why will that be? Boy! You will regret this day. The bodies of thousands lie in my wake, slaughtered for lesser actions,” said Zhen, steadying his horse. The animal seemed to be in sync with his emotions.

  “Let me show you something first, and then you will see what it is that I am trying to say.” The image of Johannan raised one hand to point towards the ether.

  “Whatever you must show to me will be your last display of foolishness.”

  “Words are not enough in circumstances such as these.” A caressing gale tugged the excess hair that dangled free from a band bound to the back of Johannan’s head. If you knew who it was that had told you to take your men and leave, you would have run for the hills, but alas, fate is against you.”

 

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