Unseen Secrets

by S. B. Sebrick

  "You there, Bahjal," Nariem called, waving out the window, "What's going on?" Keevan's friend, one of the street Rhets, appeared at the window. Her smile lit up when she saw Keevan inside. Her short brown hair was cut into two small ponytails, tied at hasty angles from her head. Smudged dirt lined her face like cheap war paint. Droplets of water trailed after her, so strong was her Rhetan focus on the situation at hand.

  "It's a Pagoda, sir!" Bahjal said, bouncing from one foot to the other in excitement. "An Etrendi must have accidently let it out, a big one by the sound of it. Half the city will be trying to catch it for the reward!"

  Nariem stewed wordlessly over that information. Keevan felt a thrill of curiosity. Pagodas were stormborn creatures, by the sound of it, this one could actually become lighting. He'd never seen such a transformation at all, much less through his elemental vision. Excitement whispered to him eagerly, begging him to ask Nariem's leave.

  Bahjal's words cut in before Keevan could open his mouth. She trembled with excitement, flinching at each flash of lighting and cry of alarm. "Could I bring Keevan along to help me catch it?" She shrugged awkwardly as if the idea were fresh and innocent, but Keevan knew better. For all her charms, she was calm and calculating before all else. She put on emotions like other Tri-Beings put on cloths.

  Nariem chuckled, nodding reluctantly. "Very well, but you must promise to be careful and keep him away from the Pagoda. Keevan can't diffuse lightning like you can. Not the amount a Pagoda can create. You keep my son safe, Bahjal."

  "Of course," Bahjal said, her child-like demeanor slipping a bit as she shot Keevan a mischievous wink. "I'll keep him out of trouble. You know me!"

  "That's exactly what I'm talking about," Nariem countered with a grin.

  Chapter 2

  “Down!”

  The warning left Keevan only a moment to brace for impact as someone smashed into him from behind. They tumbled into a side alley, elbows, knees and heads smacking against the flat street of melted stone.

  “That. W-was. Uncalled for," Keevan sputtered through gritted teeth, clutching his head. A thick lump of pain radiated from his right ear. He forced his eyes closed, willing the tears away. Not just from the pain, but the frustration. “We almost had that thing. The bounty on it is huge."

  “Were we that close to it?” Bahjal asked bitterly. She sat up, massaging her scraped knee. In the distance, light flashed and the pursuing crowd of Tri-Beings roared, a mixture of delighted citizens enjoying the spectacle and greedy hunters looking to catch the wayward Pagoda. “I couldn’t tell from my view behind the other twenty people. It’s a mob, Keevan. They would have trampled the life out of us without a second thought, if the Pagoda didn't incinerate you first. Stop being greedy and use your eyes. That was foolhardy. We can't catch it head-on like that."

  Keevan only growled in answer. He glanced at the alley’s entrance, still awash with pursuing citizens of Issamere. As fast as the crowd was running, they totaled to at least two hundred people and counting. Just because Bahjal was right, didn’t mean he had to admit it. They'd spent hours chasing the creature, to no avail. He sat up slowly, waiting for the world to right itself as his head pounded from the blow. “It’s just a lizard anyway, what’s all the fuss about?”

  “Now you’re just trying to goad me," Bahjal scoffed, closing her eyes, lips pursed angrily. In a single deep breath, she drew a semi-circle of water around her kneecap. In the second, she pushed the liquid into the wound, her skin bubbling and twisting at her call.

  “I’m surprised you can heal at all," Keevan grumbled, glancing at his own scraped limbs. A spark of jealousy tried to root in his chest, but he couldn’t entertain such petty feelings against someone like Bahjal. Rhets were held only a step above him in Issamere's hierarchy. “I thought calm feelings drew water in, you just look angry."

  “I’m good with water," Bahjal countered evenly, running her hand over the wound. Closing her eyes, she sighed in stern concentration. The excess liquid fell away, leaving pink, healing skin. “I’d offer to help you..."

  “But it wouldn’t help," Keevan grumbled, rubbing his bleeding elbow. “I’m a Sight Seeker. The elements don’t just jump at my command. Nor can I convert them to flesh. Not like that Pagoda."

  Bahjal sighed, pulling a biscuit from her pocket. By some small miracle, it had survived their graceless landing. She broke it in half and handed a portion to Keevan. “My friend, it’s not just drawing in elements, its storm born."

  Keevan choked on his biscuit, spitting half of it across the alley floor. “W-what?”

  “Ahhh, come on. I could have eaten that," Bahjal grimaced, rolling her eyes.

  “You mean, it’s not just summoning lightning to it?” Keevan sputtered, pointing northward emphatically. The crowd still cried out excitedly at flashes of light and distant rumbling through the city, just like during a thunder storm. He echoed numbly. “It’s a part of the lightning."

  Bahjal shrugged, waving dejectedly toward the crowd. “That’s right, idiot. Its body is fused to lightning. When it jumps away from the crowd, it actually becomes a lightning bolt for a brief moment until it lands. A small one, anyway. It’s like the Gods put those creatures hear to mock us. Remind us Tri-Beings of what we lost in the Crippling and all that."

  Keevan gulped nervously. For him, the only Sight Seeker in the whole continent, such knowledge had deeper implications. He understood bits and pieces of them as a child, but now, with his Ranking drawing near—he shuddered. “No Tri-Being can do that, right?”

  “No," Bahjal admitted, brushing herself off. She shot Keevan a disappointed look before continuing down the alley. “Not for a millennia. That’s why the Pagoda is so valuable. It gives the city hope that they can take such powers back. Someday. Somehow."

  "That's what the Malik must be keeping me around for," Keevan echoed nervously. He glanced around, half expecting some shadowy figure to emerge and verify his suspicions on the spot.

  "I'm sure he'd be content with you stabilizing his regime," Bahjal offered, pausing to stretch out her wounded leg. "Try not to be so hard on yourself. Trying to solve a thousand-year-old mystery is no way to wake up every morning."

  "I feel like they ask me to do the impossible all the time," Keevan sighed, leaning against the alley wall. The cool, dew-covered bricks bit into his skin and leeched cold moisture into his clothes, but he didn't care. After running with the mob, the moisture felt good on his skin. "They need my powers to develop but they're also terrified of what I'll become. Everyone in this city rejects me, except the few who actually know me."

  "Would you have it the other way around?" Bahjal offered, pursing her lips and glancing up at the sky thoughtfully. "To have the city praise you, just because of who birthed you, but anyone who actually knew you personally couldn't stand you?"

  Keevan hadn't considered that. He took a moment to scratch his head, considering her words. "I suppose not," He decided. "I'd rather have a few people I can always rely on, than a thousand who don't really know me."

  "Same here," Bahjal replied with a forced smile, scampering further along the alley. There was a hollow look to her eyes just then, a latent sadness he saw in every Tri-Being when you mentioned what they'd lost millennia ago in the Crippling. "Come one,"

  “Wait up," Keevan called. He knew that sullen look of Bahjal's, disappointment. Issamere had pinned over a decade of hopes on a rescued sight seeker infant from the sea. Worse, he was still just as powerless as the day Issamere welcomed him into its arms. The city's inhabitants would never let him forget that.

  How could they turn to a sight seeker like him, with no power over the elements, and ask for a cure? Frustration and anger bottled up inside him. If he were a Tri-Being, the air around him would radiate heat in response. Instead, he could scream, howl and yell all he liked. Despite it all however, he couldn't light so much as a candle without help.

  “Hurry up," Bahjal said, interrupting his thoughts with a forgiving smile before sprinting down the
alley. The small, wiry Tri-Being slipped into the shadows, a natural instinct for a Rhetan orphan in Issamere. Then she scampered from one crowd to the next, little more than a flicker of movement in the corner of their busy eyes. “If we can’t catch the thing, we can at least find a good seat to watch the chase."

  They headed up hill, slipping past tangles of merchants and customers too focused on their daily duties to chase after a Pagoda. A few of them were overseen by burly watchmen, cudgel in hand for any foolish thieves to receive. They watched Keevan and Bahjal as they passed, glaring at them warily. Suddenly, Keevan felt very glad to have mid-Born parents waiting at home. At the end of the day, he had a safe place to rest his head. At the same time, a wave of pity built up in his heart, for Bahjal enjoyed no such luxuries.

  “Not sure why they have to threaten us like that," Bahjal muttered as they passed a particularly nasty looking guard with only one good, bloodshot eye. “Enterprising young people like us keep them employed."

  “True," Keevan agreed. He licked his lips nervously, eyeing the twisting stairs leading farther above the city before glancing over his shoulder. The merchants and customers continued their work, their guards' attention solely fixed on protecting their wares. “If all the pickpockets in the city went on strike, half the guards in the city would be unemployed within the week."

  “Relax. Everyone bored enough to enjoy mocking you is chasing the Pagoda. We won’t be followed," Bahjal assured him, legs pumping as they took to the stairs. The winding path led them up to the last of the public gardens, built on the outskirts of the Etrendi Grounds. Even Keevan, the only Sight Seeker in Hiertalia, wasn’t allowed within the walls of the High-Born residents without an escort.

  “Old habits," Keevan grumbled, huffing after Bahjal as they hurried up the long stairs. A warm breeze followed after the Tri-Being, her body naturally drawing on the surrounding heat of the summer day to fuel her straining muscles. Keevan’s legs burned, cool sweat forming beads on his brow and down his chest. “Remind me to run ahead of you next time. It’s hot back here."

  “Healthy habits are important to maintain physical conditioning," Bahjal corrected, shrugging off her friend’s discomfort. It wasn’t something any Tri-Being could fully relate to. “Don’t lose them. Here we are."

  The stairs led to an open garden of trimmed hedges, hugging a dozen wandering trails. Overhead, twisting vines wrapped around arch ways and fences along the paths. Fruit trees of every description, peeked over at them from above the low greenery, heavy with ripening fruits in a myriad of colors.

  In the distance, two steam fountains gurgled without a care, leaving Keevan’s mouth dry with thirst. They spit twin white columns up into the sky. Small swarms of bugs hugged the warmth of the fountains, drawing in a dozen hungry birds diving in for an afternoon meal. He took a step towards them, wondering what secrets his vision to unlock at a closer distance.

  “No time. This way," Bahjal insisted, pulling Keevan by his shirt sleeve at the first split in the trail. A few mid-born couples strolled alone through the garden, given Keevan and Bahjal dirty looks as they scurried past. Such was the usual welcome for a Rhetan.

  Keevan felt a sudden surge of embarrassment, and hurried past, his face warm with sudden heat. Their battered limbs and dirt-smeared clothes did not fit in well against the lavish background of the garden. He hugged himself in a vain and hopeless attempt to hide his dirty exterior as they rounded the last bend in the path.

  Half of Issamere lay before them, easily visible from the cliff covered in lush greenery. The trail ran parallel to it, with a modest stone bench in place every few yards. A few other onlookers already waited there, watching the hunt below. A few waved fans in their faces, as much to usher away the heat as push aside the occasional fly or bee pursuing the garden.

  Midborns like Keevan, known as Haldrans, sat on the stone benches. Their clothes were modest but well maintained, dresses frilled and trousers pressed in the latest styles. Lowborns, Rhetans like Bahjal, sat cross-legged on the grass. It wasn’t illegal for them to occupy the benches, but if a Haldran needed a seat, you could bet someone would move the Rhetan along.

  Far beneath them, among the spider web of streets and tangled mix of old and new architecture, the mob of hungry Rhetans chased after the Pagoda. Flashes of light and distant rumbles marked its progress towards the city’s outskirts. The crowd’s enthusiasm roared through the city as the flashes suddenly escalated, the creature managing to reverse direction through the crowd itself.

  “Well, I think it’s safe to say no one’s going to catch the thing the usual way," Bahjal said, holding her chin in both hands as she sat on the grass. Her eyes were narrow, purposeful. Thin wisps of steam flickered around her, water drawn to her concentration.

  Their proximity to the steam fountains left more moisture in the air, so even a Rhetan like her could gather the precious element in. She shuddered a bit, as if recalling a bad memory. Then shrugged it off. An odd reaction to the elements associated with logic and anger.

  “True," Keevan said with a chuckle, ignoring the discrepancy. Bahjal was a Rhetan after all. A little elemental deformity wasn’t particularly common, but considered very rude to discuss openly. “It was fun to try though."

  “You know, there is one other thing we could try," Bahjal said, she tried to make her tone carefree and offhanded, but she licked her lips nervously. “Take a look yourself. You know. Your way."

  A sinking feeling settled in Keevan’s stomach. He glanced around at the small audience hugging the cliff’s edge. “There’s a lot of people here, Bahjal. I’d rather not draw attention."

  “We’re trying to catch a Pagoda, Keeves," She said warmly, patting Keevan on the back for encouragement. “If we pull this off, they’re will be plenty of attention. Not to mention the cash reward, fame, and your name in the city news next to the words ‘storm born.’ Yet, you agreed to hunt this thing anyway. If you didn't want any attention, then why join the hunt?”

  Keevan sighed, pulling up the grass shoots at his feet in frustration. “Mom would love that kind of publicity for me, and Dad would be very proud. But I can’t use elements at all. I just see them from a different perspective. The people here will all give me that stern, disappointed look. As if I’m holding back intentionally."

  “Tell you what," Bahjal offered, hands up in the air as if she were being robbed. “If someone interrupts you, I will personally tackle the poor sap. They won’t be focused on you for more than a second or two."

  “Even if he’s one of the Malik’s Persuaders?” Keevan asked with a sly grin.

  Bahjal gulped at that thought. “Alright, in that case I would just kick him in the shins, politely. Come on Keevan, give it a shot. Tell me what you see."

  “Alright, alright," Keevan relented, standing up for a clearer view and rubbing his temples.

  His wounds from their crash landing in the alley were finally fading. His sight seeker vision worked better through a clear mind, which usually included the lack of an audience. With a deep breath, he peered into the elemental plane. “But I’m going to hold you to the tackling part of our deal."

  “Quit stalling," Bahjal prodded with a laugh. “Tell me what the rest of us can’t see."

  Chapter 3

  Tingling energy filled Keevan’s eyes. He saw Issamere through a light blue hue now, as if looking at it through a lens, one designed by either a mad genius or a drunken master painter.

  Issamere’s wooden and brick buildings faded to a dull gray color, as did the surrounding greenery, paving stones and the birds flickering through the sky. The Tri-Beings around him shifted into humanoid bundles of white energy, each individual intertwined with a stunning contrast of blues, reds and yellows. Then he looked down into Issamere’s eastern quarters, where the Pagoda hunt raged, the air above was awash with surges of water, heat and the occasional flickers of atmospheric electrical charges.

  Above them, a thick disc of moisture hung over the city, emanating from the sec
ond Suadan Temple, by the Harbor. A massive Danica crystal of legendary proportions, called the Great Crystal, shielded Issamere from the elements in each season. During the storms of the fall and spring months, the Suadans used the Great Crystal to manage the moisture in the city. Too much and people could succumb to purpose fever, completely focused in a single task, sometimes to the point of death.

  The Belenokan and Raejin Temples each took their turn holding the Danica crystal as well, when the city stood in greater danger from heat or lighting than water. Its transport at the change of the seasons was one of the greatest shows of military might in Issamere, with General Arnadi himself in charge of its safe transport from one Temple to another.

  Before his eyes, he watched the Suadan's Temple's massive Danica field shift, pulling moisture from the city. It was a subtle change, one Keevan could barely feel against his skin. Watching the Pagoda chase explained the Suadan's reasoning well enough. If a greedy Tri-Being focused too much on the hunt, an emotion conveyed by moisture, they might get a too focused and start hurting the competition. Removing the latent moisture encouraged the Tri-Beings' interest to remain short.

  Keevan chuckled, realizing another use for the Suadan Temple. He wondered if the Malik ever arranged an increase in moisture, to coincide with the times his criers announced new policies or when he was due to deal with the Council. The ability to control the average Tri-Beings' attention spans would prove a useful tool indeed. Perhaps that's why so few riots had broken out in the last decade, by simply removing excess moisture, Tri-Beings would turn more prone to boredom than rebellion.

  Below, thousands of white pinpricks marked Tri-Beings hurrying about their daily business. In the merchant sector, strands of blue moisture flickered around them like bugs to a flame, as the locals bargained for the best deals. A few of them drew in heat from the surrounding sunlight, growing angry at the results. A bright yellow flash burst from the Rhetan district like a miniature sun, forcing Keevan to cover his eyes momentarily.