“You may be disappointed in the lack of mud rolling,” Davinth said after swallowing a bite of cheese.
Stephanie frowned as, once again, someone was implying her retreat was going to be far different than what she imagined. When she’d booked her vacation through the Elysian tourism board, she had been sure to mention her desire to reevaluate her life and figure out what would bring her a sense of peace.
The website was filled with nothing but photos of bodies relaxing in mud pools or sitting cross legged on a beach in front of rolling waves. But, if there was anyone here she could trust to tell her the truth, it was the male in front of her. So far anyway.
“What, exactly, am I going to be doing?” she asked as nonchalantly as possible.
“I’m honestly surprised you were placed here,” Davinth replied. “The Communion of Pahali is one of the more…” He paused and looked at her though as though trying to determine which words wouldn’t send her screaming for the hills. “Ecstatic sects.”
Stephanie blinked. Ecstatic meant happy right? There was nothing to be concerned about, but he’d removed his hand from hers to rub the back of his neck. He was clearly embarrassed.
“Is that why you’re here?” she asked in a low voice. His eyes found hers again, returning her gaze before drifting down to her lips. She nervously wet them, imagining what kind of ecstatic experience she could have with him next to a bonfire under the stars.
When he replied, he sounded as dazed as she felt. “I have no idea.”
Davinth
He was here because his parents wanted him to be involved even if he wasn’t eligible for many of the rites, and this act of good faith could buoy his standing as a mateless male. He was not here because he believed those who sought spirituality had better answers than he did.
A wave from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Namais stood by the door, his arm extended in the air. Davinth inwardly grimaced. Stephanie may have been a guest, but he was a volunteer. Their plates were nearly empty, and the novitiates tasked with serving First Meal bustled about the room retrieving sullied flatware and cups.
Davinth sighed. “I’m afraid I must go.”
She smiled. “It was really good seeing you again.”
Such simple words emboldened him. “You’ll be seeing a lot of me, I’m afraid. I was endowed to the Communion for the duration of your retreat.”
He reluctantly stood and gathered their plates. He wasn’t looking forward to whatever lay ahead of him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have something to look forward to. “Perhaps we can meet at the end of the day?”
It was a gamble, but she had been receptive to his advances so far. He had the feeling she was dealing with far more emotionally and mentally than she was letting on, especially if the tourism board sent her to the Communion.
“That would be great,” Stephanie replied. A light feeling suffused throughout his body to finally settle in his chest. Most monasteries held their dinners early in the afternoon. It would be nothing to sweep her away to the Cistern’s hills before nightfall.
He bid her farewell and struggled to maintain the same enthusiasm in the face of Namais’ knowing gaze. “It’s good to see you’ve already acquainted yourself with one of our seekers,” Namais said.
“Yes,” Davinth replied simply, not wishing to give the other male anything more to carry back to his elders. “What do you have for me?”
Namais said nothing for a few moments before motioning with his hand for Davinth to follow. The churning orgy of color from the dining room was replaced with fresh, golden light as he was led into a large kitchen. Despite the opened windows, the air in the room was borderline offensive, causing Davinth to briefly cover his nose.
Namais chuckled. “Most find this blend’s odor unpleasant, but it doesn’t need to smell good.” He walked over to a pot simmering over one of the large heating units. His face crinkled when he leaned over it, but the potent bouquet didn’t stop him from dipping a spoon inside to bring a small sample to his lips. “Or taste good, for that matter.”
He placed the spoon on the counter and motioned toward a long table against the wall. “These are the bowls for the first ceremony.” Davinth followed him and picked up one of the fired clay bowls. Smoke-like swirls were carved into the outside surface while some kind of iridescent shell threw off flashes of purple and blue from the center. “You’ll need to wash them quickly since the ritual bathing begins soon.”
Davinth frowned. The bathing rituals alone could take an hour. With so few items to prepare, his presence shouldn’t have been needed for at least that long. They were early in the seventh hour, and Namais begged his leave after instructing him to return to the front of the main foyer once the task was complete.
“There is much I have to get done. Please make haste,” the older male said, leaving Davinth to his task.
Stephanie
If the rest of her quest for enlightenment was going to be like this, she would sign up for every retreat until she drew her last breath. Stephanie sighed and ran her hands over one of the blossoms floating in the heated pool.
After breakfast, she thought she would have some time to explore the building, but no such luck. Within moments of stepping outside of the dining room, another eager-faced attendant scuttled her off to her first destination.
The chilly morning air was warded off by a heavy cloak draped around her shoulders at one of the commune’s back entrances, and followed by four other faces she didn’t know, she was led on a winding path in complete silence. The crunch of rock underfoot, bird calls, and her own breaths became her only companions.
She peeked around, searching the other faces for any sign of emotion but their eyes remained downcast, and some of them murmured under their breath, lost in their own thoughts. She was just beginning to wonder where they were taking her when they approached a small bathing house made entirely of reflective glass.
Stephanie could only gawk in amazement as they passed through the front door and swept past bright rooms, each with its own sunken tub cut from stone.
Her first bath involved a scrub down that almost tore the skin from her bones, and she imagined she would never have to exfoliate again, but this? This was nice. She opened her eyes when a throat cleared behind her and obediently departed the tub with one last longing gaze.
“I’m sure you have many questions,” The attendant said, “but everything will be revealed in due time.”
Stephanie hoped so. As it stood, she was given a sturdy tank top and a pair of stiff pants to put on, and she didn’t feel comfortable interrupting her hosts during their preparations. Another novice arrived with a censer and placed it on a small pedestal in the center of the room, filling the small space with a sweet, earthy, aroma.
The next scent was not as pleasant. When an Elysian female approached holding a bowl filled with lukewarm liquid, she almost recoiled.
“Am I supposed to drink this?” she asked with a watery smile. The vapors alone made her want to retch, and her hands trembled around the vessel.
“I’m afraid so,” the female replied with a pitying smile. “And then we can begin.”
Stephanie warily eyed the bowl and briefly brought it back down after catching a closer whiff. She could feel their eyes on her and knew she was holding everything up. Similar bowls were handed to other seekers in the room, and they were already tipping their servings up. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and fought against all of her instincts while the noxious brew slid down her throat.
Bitter wasn’t enough of a description for the taste, and she tore the bowl away from her lips and covered her mouth with her hands to keep it down. With her eyes squeezed shut, she couldn’t see who was rubbing her arms in an attempt to soothe her, but she was thankful when they finally moved away and gave her room to breathe.
“Before she wakens, she stirs. Pahali. Hidden one. She who births rivers of scalding fire to pave way for new life,” a solemn voice began, and Stepha
nie turned to face it, her mouth still watering from whatever they had given her.
“So shall we suffer the flame,” soft voices said around her, and she could swear there was an echo, although they barely spoke above a whisper.
“In her wake, we observe what remains and tend to the seeds of rebirth.”
“So shall we be cleansed and renewed,” came the response, and Stephanie thought it sounded like one hell of a commitment only to remember that she’d signed up for it, too. The room felt warmer, and a strange sensation bubbled up her spine before falling, like a shroud, over the front of her skull.
The room was already bright, but the light became prismatic, casting rainbows over blue skin.
“The tea’s full effects will begin soon,” one of the noviates said, placing a hand on the small of her back to lead her out of the room. “It’s simply to enhance your perception. Some music needs more than silence.”
It was unnaturally bright, or maybe that was the hallucinogen they had slipped into her morning tea. She was led from the building, and a planet that was stunning before took on supernatural reams of color. Flits of bright red and blue she could only assume were birds left dim trails in their wake.
Other supplicants surrounded her, and while the heavy silence used to make her uncomfortable, she found herself able to sink into the lack of conversation. Insect’s trilling calls, whispered prayers, and the wind spoke enough, telling the stories of their journeys over the mountains to converge at this sacred place.
“Before the great birth,” a voice began, “Pahali wandered Reihu’s realm, and in that murky gloom, she heard the song of birth’s desire.”
The path dipped and she with it. Her limbs felt lighter, her legs carrying her without conscious thought as she followed her hosts to the bottom of a hill. A strange orchard sprawled before them, its twisted trees covered in large, black leaves. When the two Elysians in front of her stopped, Stephanie followed suit.
She turned, expecting to see the other members of their party but was greeted by the sight of an empty slope.
“Like her, you will hear Reihu’s chorus, if you trust the silence enough to listen,” one of them said, and he motioned toward the opening in the trees in front of them. “When you hear birth’s desire, follow it.” His hands clasped hers, and his eyes, despite the lack of pupils, were sad. “We will be watching.”
She wanted to ask what he meant but he was leading her to the entrance. With a final bow, he turned away to join his cohorts’ slow journey back up the hill. Stephanie watched their retreating backs, but against all logic, a warm gust of wind pulled her attention back toward the orchard and its black-leaved trees.
The trunks twisted in on themselves on their meandering journey to the sky, and sunlight barely filtered through the dense canopy beyond.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and a familiar scent filled her nostrils, causing her eyes to widen and water. She sniffed and wiped her arm across her nose, hoping to dispel the distinct aroma of her mother’s perfume. But it remained. She released a shaky breath and narrowed her eyes into the surrounding gloom before squaring her shoulders.
A figure darted between two trees in her peripheral vision, and she turned, her heart pounding in her chest. She stumbled over a downed log but quickly regained her footing as she continued walking, her ears strained for the sounds of music.
Movement to her side caught her attention again, and Stephanie whirled around, hoping to catch it before it disappeared. She must have moved her head too quickly, or maybe it was the brew, either one could be a valid explanation for the shadowy visage of Minerva that materialized out of the shadows on the ground.
Davinth
There were few times in Davinth’s life where he could recall feeling rage. Elysians prided themselves on tempering their more reckless emotions and focusing on behaviors that would encourage Jirana.
But even an entheogenic tea couldn’t stop him from stomping through one of the worst tourist traps he had ever encountered. When Brother Namais said his duties with the retreat would be few, he wasn’t technically lying, but the truth was far worse.
Davinth had finished the bowls in short order and was surprised to find the other male waiting for him by the door. “I was under the assumption you would be busy.”
It was a terrible assumption to make. Begrudging acceptance morphed into incredulity as he was led to the ritual bathing pools used by the commune’s paying seekers. He’d attempted to bargain his way out of partaking.
Namais’ reply was calm but chiding. “At your elders’ behest, we have created sacred space for you.”
It was the perfect way to shut down his protests. He gritted his teeth and turned to the looming orchard made of artificial trees and telepathic mesh. They must have been one of the few communes that allowed the unmated to partake in Pahali’s blooming rites. Tears stung at the corner of his eyes. It was charity, a small mercy procured by patient elders at their wits end.
An emotion he could only interpret as shame coursed through him, and he didn’t wait for the other Elysian’s final words. If the orchard wanted him, it could have him.
Davinth frowned up at the trees’ black leaves and sneered. The concoction they foisted upon him lowered his ability to shield his thoughts and emotions and would allow the mesh to manifest the subconscious patterns created by his mind. His fingers lingered on one of the trunks and he picked at its imitation bark.
“Wanting to destroy the illusion so soon?” a female voice asked, and Dravinth jumped. Where seconds before he was alone, to his right stood an unfamiliar Elysian, her hands gracefully folded in front of her.
“What?” He rubbed his eyes and opened them again to be greeted with a swirl of color and the same statuesque figure. She matched him in height and white curls framed a wizened face where fine lines fanned out from the corner of her eyes. “Who are you?”
From what he had read, the mesh used in the leaves could create images based only on prior knowledge, a way of encouraging the seeker to engage with their inner mythology. This female was unfamiliar to him, her red inked tattoos a distinct marker he had rarely, if ever, seen before. His stomach momentarily lurched, and he steadied himself against the tree.
“Does it matter who I am?” she replied. She turned and began to walk away from him, triggering a panicked response. He didn’t know who she was, but his mind was playing tricks on him. The shadows in the trees morphed into silent figures with grasping spines for fingers, and their whispers began as a low hum, like the sound of distant insects.
“Leave!” they hissed. “You don’t belong here!”
“Davinth Xan-Curson, the Lame Heir,” another jeered in response.
He tore away from the tree, willing his legs to carry him toward the slowly retreating female figure. He didn’t want to be alone.
“I know you’re just a hallucination,” Davinth replied once he was safely by her side. His heart thundered in his ears despite his best efforts to calm himself down. The ground shifted under his feet, and he couldn’t tell whether it was because of the brew or the landscape.
“As are many of the things in this orchard,” she replied, and Davinth had a sinking suspicion his mind was no longer in control of the situation.
“It never was.” Her voice mingled with another sound, a hanging note that he struggled to hear. “Nothing ruled by fear is ever mastered.”
The strange note changed pitch, dropping into a low tone, and the figure vanished from his side, causing him to turn in search of her. The few moments in her presence, no matter how counterfeit, were comforting compared to the sense of dread that tickled the back of his skull.
He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. “None of this is real.”
“I knew it,” Lorion’s sneering voice replied, and Davinth’s hands trembled. He would not look. “Ever since your Sarum. I watched, and I knew.”
Davinth cried out and covered his eyes as the scene flooded to the forefront of his mind.
His Sarum, his official initiation into the domestic mysteries of his clan, and their home was filled with well-wishers eager to offer blessings to the first-born coming of age.
Surrounded by elated extended family bearing lavish gifts and high expectations, young Davinth had had his misgivings. He never felt the same all-consuming joy or peace his kin spoke of. He felt nothing at all, and when his father laid his hands upon him, channeling the
same telepathic connection to Pahali they all supposedly shared, Davinth could only search the older male’s eyes for answers when the familial connection dulled to emptiness.
Those answers never came from Emon, but he found them in the academy halls, his father’s sad eyes pushed to the back of his mind to be replaced with analysis and biological processes. He did not want to be pitied.
Davinth stumbled forward, willing his legs to continue moving despite the vision unfolding in his mind. His confusion turned into anger, as Pahali’s rejection stained him like blood on the hands of the first murderer. Lorion knew, and Davinth saw it in his eyes. Heard it in the collective murmurs when he sequestered himself away during the rites that had guided their society for thousands of years.
“You believed yourself above us,” Lorion said from beside him, and Davinth whirled to face the other male and defend himself.
He was greeted with empty space and disembodied titters in the gloom. He covered his ears, but their words grew in volume and clarity, his cousin’s voice woven within the droning choir. Accusations, memories, snippets of failed conversations and halting interactions, all tiny threads tightly bound to a bygone moment in time.
Davinth collapsed, his legs giving out from under him, and his fingers curled into the soil beneath him. Lorion stood tall and proud before him, his eyes trained on the lesser male crumpled in supplication. He approached, and the vision shifted while doing so, becoming that of a bright-eyed youngling, barely released from his mother’s apron.
Blooming Desire: An Extraordinary Spring Romance Collection Page 10