A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  *

  Nehalé stood on the mezzanine of an old order processing station, looking out over the hundreds of people milling about on the warehouse floor below. Anando stood beside him, toying with the mixing board they’d jerry-rigged to the intercom system just an hour before, and gave him the thumbs-up to start whenever he felt ready. He wished he had the kid’s optimism at that moment, as his own had inexplicably vanished. He’d plotted out this very moment for ages, including when he would give a brilliant speech to these devout followers of the One, but now that the time was here…words had failed him. He had the general idea, of course…that would be found in the unspoken words, the ones he’d be speaking within, underneath everything else. Oh, if he only had the gift of words like Reverend Miriam! Perhaps that was how to start…get their spirit’s attention first, then worry about the spoken words when he got to them.

  Somfei, edha d’ emha…mehridea shadha di nyhndah…dehndarra Né hra nyhndah.

  The noise in the room immediately dropped down to a whisper as every single body down there stopped what they were doing and faced him. That seemed to get their attention…he cleared his throat nervously, turned on the mic and began.

  “I am Nehalé Usarai,” he said aloud. “Peace, Love, and Light to all of you.”

  He stopped again, closing his eyes, and thought of how Miriam had entranced his parishioners at the church yesterday. If he could take hold of his audience…if he could capture the hearts and souls standing below him…he took a deep breath, reaching out with his soul. He wished for them to listen. If his words were less than perfect, then his spirit would talk for him. He opened up his eyes and began again.

  “First of all…what I say to you now is of utmost importance. Since the Awakening, there has been an incredible surge in the number of Mendaihu and Shenaihu sensitives in Bridgetown and in surrounding provinces. I am assuming that most of you understand, or at least have some grasp on the changes you are going through. There are those who stand next to you, however, who are scared or confused…they have been given an overwhelming strength, and knowledge they never knew they could acquire. I urge you, my brothers and sisters, to embrace them; give them that knowledge they deserve.

  “Many of you are asking…why have we been awakened? Why do we stand here, listening to this apparent madman, this anarchist? Why was I brought here?

  “I tell you now, eicho d’ eichi, that you are not alone. Your spirits were awakened to celebrate the coming of the One of All Sacred. She is here, within us, at this very moment. She is all of us, in her purest form. She is space, she is time…she is the Universes. And she has come again.”

  A collective gasp and the sound of inner voices surged towards him. The One…? Oh Goddess she’s returned! We have been saved! The surge of emotion washed over him like a tidal wave, knocking him back. He rushed to recapture his own emotions in the deluge, their joy so similar to his own. He blinked tears away as he leaned forward over the railing, catching his breath. He had expected this reaction from many of the people here; those who followed the One of All Sacred faithfully, Mendaihu and Shenaihu alike, and those who had some degree of familiarity with their faith, had come willingly and without question. Those who could not understand the sudden jubilation stood ashen-faced, confused and more than a little scared. These were the uninformed, the ones who had never been taught the secrets of the Mendaihu, the Shenaihu, and the One.

  They would be his first pupils, when the time came.

  “You have come of your own will,” he continued, “out of your own volition, to this warehouse in the most disregarded and unorganized sector of Bridgetown, to become part of a grand awakening. We come here to the Waterfront to congregate and praise the return of the One, but not to build an army to fight our enemies. Our fate was never to fight amongst each other. Our fate is to protect Gharra and the One of All Sacred at all costs from those who would destroy them. If that means we must eventually go into battle, so be it…but that is not our fate. We will not fight if there is no reason for it.”

  He took advantage of the pause in his sermon to take another breath, and to observe the crowd again. The inner voices had calmed down to a murmur, taking his words to heart. “Some of you are questioning our motives,” he continued. “I can sense your wariness, and I don’t blame you. Why are we not attacking the nuhm’ndah? We were provoked, I can attest to that. I was witness to this provocation, yesterday at St. Patrick’s Church, and I can tell you that parishioners within the church did nothing to warrant such a blatant attack.

  “I understand that some of you were in the area of Sculler’s Crossing, just over a mile from here…you had lost eighteen Mendaihu and five Shenaihu. I understand that family members of those twenty-three are here today in this warehouse. My heart goes out to all of you…nyhnd’aladh, do not misunderstand me. I know your pain, and I pray for your healing. I can only wish that our mission of peace will eventually come to fruition, and no more lives, no more spirits will be lost. I firmly believe that the One of All Sacred knows this as well, and that is her aim.”

  An unexpected roar of applause filled the warehouse. Nehalé smiled broadly at them, placing his hand over his chest in a gesture of heartfelt appreciation, but his joy was short-lived. He had padded his sermon enough to keep these people calm and attentive, but eventually he’d have to explain why they had been drawn here in the first place. A good number of these people were going to be upset to find that they had come here on their own volition and not by some kind of summoning. He knew from experience the unsettling feeling of helplessness when a spirit chose its own path regardless of the person’s logic or emotion.

  “As it stands, the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu are at an impasse. They want control over the One of All Sacred. We of course do not control her, but we do have her under our protection. I tell you now, that they will not stop until they have her. I cannot tell you to what lengths they will go to obtain her, but we must be vigilant! We must remain so, until the threat has passed. They will not have her!

  “So I tell you now, dear friends, my sehnadha. We are here, in this warehouse, in order to defend. I know this, my friends, because she is coming here.”

  The crowd stopped chattering and clapping, and gaped at him in stunned silence. Only moments later was the silence broken, first by a few brave spirits willing to voice their true feelings. Then all at once, everyone began speaking again in a sudden storm of excitement and surprise: The One…coming here? To us? She’s…she’s coming? Is she here now?

  “She is not here at the moment,” he said above the din in his head, waving his hands down at them. “But before the day is done, she will come.”

  He could say no more, as the room suddenly erupted into cheers and cries of joy once more. Another surge of emotion washed over him, and he could not brace himself against it. He let it flow freely through his own essence this time, leaning against the railing and laughing. How else could he react? Having nothing more to say at that moment, Nehalé backed away from the edge of the mezzanine and sat down on one of the desks behind him. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and laid his hands on his lap.

  We are here, my dearest One, he whispered within himself. We are waiting.