A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

CHAPTER THIRTY

  dehndarra Né hra nyhndah

  “Perfect,” Natianos said, clasping his hands behind his back.

  The beacon of Light stuttered, sputtered, and vanished out of existence within a few seconds, leaving the city in an unsettling silence. He cast a sensing thread over the immediate area to gauge the reaction; the overwhelming feeling was that of shock and dread. Too early to tell if anyone would take action after that, but he doubt anyone would want to, not after that spectacle. He and the One of All Sacred had both come to the same unspoken conclusion: for every action, there was an opposite reaction. He had to shut down what Nehalé had started. It was the only way to do it right. The only way to do it justice.

  This young Embodiment was more intelligent than he’d expected her to be. This season was going to be interesting.

  He turned to Janoss, who’d remained at his side during it all. The color had drained from his face, the creases in his forehead and near his eyes folding into deep furrows. “What…just happened?” Janoss muttered. “I know you’d sent out a hell of a lot of energy just a few minutes ago, but…was that supposed to happen? Wasn’t the beacon supposed to, I don’t know…fade, instead of die out like that?”

  “I did two things, Janoss,” he said quietly. “The Cleansing ritual was completed by way of my willing it closed, which you witnessed yourself. And in a much more dignified way than Nehalé and his Awakening, I should add. I only had to connect to the spirits and direct them to stop, with a little help. And in doing so, an Ascension was neatly corrupted. I couldn’t let the young One make a move I consider hasty. I merely caused a Fall.”

  Janoss nodded slowly. “Angel metaphors,” he said, and cocked an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t pull her wings off then, did you?”

  Natianos chuckled. “No, Janoss, I didn’t. I merely clipped them a bit. I’m sure they’ll grow back.”

  Father!

  Saone’s voice invaded his thoughts with a vengeance. He pushed her anger away just as quickly. Not now, Saone, he responded. Be patient.

  Father, hear me!

  Another wave of anger tore out of him, stronger this time. Not now!

  Silence lingered in their spiritual link, Saone no doubt wanting to fight back but knowing better than that. After a few seconds he felt her grudging acceptance. She left wordlessly and did not call again.

  Janoss finally turned from the window, the color returning to his face. He took a tentative step towards the long couches, then another. Finally he paused in front of one, hand up near his mouth as if to speak, thought better of it, shook his head and sat down instead, his back to Natianos. Clearly the man was starting to have second thoughts about their place in all these rituals, and he couldn’t blame him. Eventually Janoss dropped heavily onto the couch and sulked.

  “I have to admit,” Natianos said, remaining at the window. “I can’t help but worry about my youngest daughter, Janoss. You remember Saone, don’t you? Wonderful girl…though she’s more rebellious than I’d like. I’d rather she not be a casualty if it comes to it.”

  Janoss did not answer.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “She’s down there at the warehouse. Did she get caught up in the Cleansing? Was she part of the Ascension? Was she even part of the Awakening, and is she now cho-nyhndah? Who knows? It’s out of my hands, Janoss. She is my daughter, but I do not own her spirit. And certainly dear Saone is old enough to live with her own decisions. I just hope she chose wisely.” Finally turning away from the city, he faced Janoss again. The man was still stewing in his own juices, arms crossed and stuck in his thoughts. “No barriers here, Janoss,” he said, joining him on the opposite couch. “What’s on your mind?”

  Could he be having a crisis of faith? The mere thought surprised him. Janoss had gone in and orchestrated a bloodbath at St. Patrick’s Church just yesterday, and had done so without hesitation. Why did he feel troubled at this point? Certainly not guilt…he was not a weak man. He would accept the outcome of his own actions, one way or another.

  “Something’s…not right,” Janoss said eventually. There was no emotion in his words. “Nyhnd’aladh, my Dahné, but I don’t think we should have done that. Not so soon.”

  Natianos bristled. “So soon? What are you talking about? That was the perfect time. Had she achieved full Ascension right then, this struggle would have ended before it even began. She was trying to awaken everyone.”

  Janoss exhaled again. “I know…”

  “Everyone,” he repeated with more force. “Everyone on this blessed planet!”

  “I understand, Natianos,” he snapped.

  Natianos shook his head impatiently and leaned forward in his seat. “You don’t, Janoss, not completely,” he said. “That’s the problem. What would have happened, then? The nuhm’ndah and the kiralla would be a moot point, that’s what. Our beliefs, our lives, our heritage would have been wiped clean.”

  “But…the cho-nyhndah—”

  “…is a myth, Janoss!” he said, waving a frustrated hand in the air. “Where is the balance if it exists in the body of one person? Each person’s spirit would be exactly the same! This is why I did what I did, do you not see that? The cho-nyhndah have indeed awakened. The people of this world are on the verge of awakening to their Trisandi heritage, just like those here in our city. But the cho-nyhndah, the true twin spirits, still remain a small percentage.”

  “…to maintain the balance,” Janoss said, eyeing him. “With the awakened.”

  “Precisely,” he said with finality. Now he understood.

  “And what of the One?” Janoss asked.

  “Dennise Johnson?” he smirked. “She’s a fifteen year old girl from Berndette Corner. She might have most of the One’s abilities, and she shows quite a high intelligence that some of our previous Embodiments may have lacked…but she’s still learning. She’s far from ready to lead right now.”

  Janoss nodded slowly. “I see.”

  “That’s why I caused the Fall,” he continued. “If the One had ascended at this moment, knowing only half the truth from the Mendaihu, and hardly anything at all about the Shenaihu, the war would have been lost from the beginning. She would have shunned us all eventually, put us back in our cages before we could even ascend ourselves.”

  Janoss grinned at the turn of phrase. “Are you sure you she’d shun us? Come on. She would have given up, just like all the other Embodiments.”

  Natianos shrugged after a moment. “Maybe so…but the outcome would have been the same. The effects of the ritual would fade, and we’d be back to square one. No further to our goals, once again frustrated and lost until the next Embodiment came along a quarter century later.”

  Janoss nodded, and did not speak again. They both sat in silence for a long time afterwards, each with vastly different ideas of what that regression would have entailed. Eventually, Janoss left to return to his own office without saying a word. Natianos stood up again and returned to the window. He looked out over the Sprawl, a smile slowly crossing his face.

  His reverie was short-lived as soon as Saone called again. Father, I demand your attention!

  Speak, child, he said with all the patience he could muster. I am listening.

  He felt her anger and disappointment in cascading waves, and had expected as much. Once again she had gone in not knowing the full extent of the consequences, joining with the One of All Sacred as she did. She had tried to win his trust and his faith in her, and had utterly failed.

  Father… she said. What the hell have you done?

  I have kept our heritage alive, Saone. He left it at that. He did not want to have to explain his actions all over again. You are nuhm’ndah, Saone. You are not Mendaihu.

  I am cho-nyhndah, she said defiantly. I am not the daughter you once knew.

  You are no such thing, he growled. Look deep within and see the truth for once. Stop lying to yourself.

>   Saone’s waves of anger faltered, giving way to confusion.

  You are Saone Lehanna si Oktanis si Alnaisu, a pure Shenaihu nuhm’ndah through three spiritual clan threads. You are capable of many things, Saone, but you cannot disown your heritage. It is what you are.

  Damn you, Saone growled at him. Damn you, father! Why have you done this?

  Natianos sighed out of frustration. You are free to follow any wind of doctrine you wish to follow. That restriction I cannot force upon you. I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself, madin. The choice is yours.

  That’s… she started. Her faith in herself had already started to wane. I cannot choose on a moment’s notice!

  He chuckled despite himself. It did not seem that way when you met with the One of All Sacred.

  She did not answer for a long time after that. He had become used to these long pauses in their spiritual conversations. I am still your father, Saone, he reminded. I am still here for you spiritually. But do know that I shall no longer welcome you in this house until you embrace your nuhm’ndah heritage.

  You—

  Enough, he snapped. No more talk of this!

  Damn you, father, she cried. Don’t do this—

  No more!

  With that, he effectively shut off all spiritual communication with her. If she would not return to the fold now, then she would not be welcomed again. He had prepared himself for this ever since his eldest daughter had come of age, and so he did not feel the slightest bit guilty in disowning her. The nuhm’ndah heritage was not something to be taken lightly. It was a sacred following that deserved the same kind of permanence as the Mendaihu. If she could not embrace it, then she was not deserving of it.

  I do love you, Saone, he thought. But you are no longer Lehanna madin.

  No longer my youngest daughter.