Shiva XIV

by Lyra Shanti

  Ayn nodded, and then pursed his lips together, thinking. At first, Zin wondered if Ayn was making fun of him. Even though it seemed entirely out of Ayn's character, the puckering of lips, like a fish, was something non-Ohrians – especially Krians – would do when making fun of his people. Zin had been bullied as a child by a Krian boy when he briefly attended an inter-planetary boarding school, but the bullying stopped once his father had the bully's father threatened with a royal court order. Sometimes it was good to be a prince.

  “I've got an idea,” said Ayn, breaking Zin's meandering thoughts.

  “What is it?” asked Zin.

  “Well... I... um... it's hard to explain,” Ayn replied, “but I think I may know a way to figure out where we are and how to get back to the hotel.”

  “Really?” asked Zin, happily surprised.

  “Yeah,” said Ayn, “just, um... stay here. I have to, well... just trust me.”

  Slightly embarrassed, Ayn turned away from Zin, and then went off a little to the side. Zin had absolutely no idea what in the universe his friend was doing, but he was amused nonetheless. He decided to take advantage of his moment alone and took out his gift from Lady Raven. Even just a small taste of the pipe reminded him of her scent and the fullness of her lips. Soon, Zin was in a happy, dreamy haze.

  Looking back, Ayn saw his friend smoking. Zin seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts, allowing Ayn the chance to call for help.

  “Axis,” he whispered. “Axis, are you here?”

  There was no answer.

  “Axis?” Ayn whispered louder.

  Ayn didn't know why his cat-bird friend wouldn't be responding to him, considering he always seemed to be everywhere Ayn was, popping up, even when Ayn least expected. If Axis was imaginary and only in his mind, Ayn assumed he should be able to conjure the animal at will whenever needed. So why wasn’t it working?

  “I need you, Axis!” Ayn loudly whispered.

  Not a sound was heard, and nothing seemed to be in sight, except for a few parked hover-cars, which were made visible from the light of nearby plasma-powered street lamps. The silence made Ayn feel very uncomfortable. He didn't know if it was because he had gotten used to having his imaginary friend always with him or if it was something else entirely, but the stillness of the night was making Ayn feel strangely uneasy.

  Ayn turned around and hurriedly walked back to Zin who was now sitting on his suitcase on the sidewalk, smoking his pipe with his eyes half-closed.

  “My Gods, are you smoking a hallucinogenic pipe?” asked Ayn, annoyed and a little offended at Zin's behavior. Taking drugs was strictly prohibited at The Holy Temple, unless it was necessary for vision quests. However, Ayn had always been told by Meddhi-Lan that a real, honorable holy man didn't need drugs to have vision quests, and Ayn believed Meddhi-Lan’s words to be solid truth. The idea that Zin was now using a vision-drug just for fun seemed a travesty, especially when Ayn was feeling so vulnerable. Why couldn't Zin sense his feelings and comfort him the way Pei would have done?

  Ayn cringed when thinking about how much he missed Pei. Feeling alone and lost, Ayn broke into tears.

  Not entirely oblivious, Zin saw Ayn's tearful face and tried to comfort him by offering Ayn a puff of his pipe.

  “No, thank you,” said Ayn, wiping his tears, then defiantly folding his arms.

  “So...” sighed Zin as he took another inhale of his pipe, “I take it you didn't figure out how to find our hotel.”

  “No, I did not,” Ayn quietly replied, ashamed.

  “I guess your great Bodanya powers don't work with directions,” said Zin with a teasing smirk.

  Ayn frowned and said, “You doubt everything about me, don't you?”

  “No,” Zin replied as he stood on his feet, putting out his pipe, “I just doubt everything about your religious upbringing, and I doubt The Dei priests who forced you to believe such a giant lie.”

  Ayn shook his head and sighed. “You don't have to believe what they believed,” said Ayn, “but... if you really are my friend, you should at least believe in me.”

  “Ayn,” Zin replied as he walked up and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, “I do believe in you, and I think you have the potential to be a great leader, but I also think you're still very caught up in the web of their well-spun illusion. You are not a God, Ayn. You know this to be true. You're just flesh and blood like the rest of us. Hell, you're still just a boy who gets easily frightened and lost. You can't expect yourself to have the answers to the entire Un if you can't even use logic to figure out which direction to go when lost on a city street.”

  At his wit's end, Ayn began tearing up. He knew his blunt friend was right. Ayn had no idea what he was doing, and he felt completely useless. “Fine! I'm not The Bodanya!” cried Ayn. “I don't know what I'm doing, Zin. Please, help me!”

  Zin embraced Ayn, hugging him tightly. “Don't worry, my brother-in-soul, I will always be here to help you. I won't ever leave you.”

  “That's what Pei said!” Ayn blurted in tears as he grabbed onto Zin's back with pleading fingers.

  “Yes, I know, Ayn, but I'm not him,” Zin replied while picking up Ayn's face with the tip of his forefinger. Giving Ayn a comforting smile, Zin playfully added, “I could never be a priest. I’m far too lusty. I'm also an Ohrian. We're naturally smarter than most, so… there’s that as well.”

  Ayn released a slight laugh. He wanted to thank Zin for calming him with his warmth and humor, but the words wouldn't come out; they were caught inside his throat, stilted by too many emotions.

  Zin simply nodded, sensing Ayn's feelings. “It's alright, Ayn,” he said. “Everything will be alright.”

  Hugging, they stood on the street corner and looked into each other's eyes. Zin felt as if he could see deeper than ever into Ayn's sky-blue eyes. He wondered if it was the pipe that was making him receptive or if it was Ayn's immense spirit. Either way, something was causing him to feel pulled, and his heart thumped loudly inside his chest.

  Ayn didn't know what was happening. It felt like he was caught inside Zin's mysterious spell – the same one that emitted from Zin's music when he played the elenon.

  Feeling the weight of Zin's slanted, aqua-colored eyes, Ayn felt pulled against his will. Shaking himself out of the spell, Ayn noticed how much it looked as if Zin was going to kiss him. Slightly panicked by the idea, Ayn cracked a nervous, confused smile, and said, “Um… what are you doing, Zin?”

  “I...” mumbled Zin, “I don't know.”

  “It... seems like you're trying to kiss me,” said Ayn awkwardly.

  “I guess I am,” quietly replied Zin, trance-like. He closed his eyes and slowly leaned in closer to Ayn's face.

  Ayn didn't know what to do. He hadn't thought he felt romantic feelings for Zin or for any boy. However, his heart was beating fast, and he wondered if he actually wanted to be kissed. Having no previous experience in love, he wasn't really sure.

  Breathing slightly out of rhythm, Ayn closed his eyes. Not long afterward, the softness of Zin's lips touched his, and Ayn felt the warmth of Zin's strong aura, like a wave of protective energy, covering Ayn during a mighty storm. Zin's kiss was neither lusty nor rushed, but romantic and sweet.

  The two young men kissed gently in the moonlight, and for a moment, they were lost in the feeling of their sudden intimacy. Afterward, they opened their eyes and looked at each other with bewildered wonderment.

  “What just happened?” asked Ayn.

  Zin slowly shook his head and nervously smiled.

  “I don't know,” said Zin as his smile turned impishly wider, “but truthfully, I want to do it again.”

  “Wait!” said Ayn with his hand raised, covering his own lips.

  “Why?” Zin replied, slightly offended.

  “Because! I don't understand why you're doing this.”

  “Um... because I want to,” said Zin, shrugging.

  “Well, that's not a good enough reason,” said Ayn, scowling.

>   Zin sighed and said, “What other reason should I have?”

  “I don't get you at all,” replied Ayn as he rubbed his forehead, confused. “Why did you kiss me? Do you think I'm a girl or something? If you do, you're quite wrong.”

  “No, Ayn,” said Zin with a laugh, “I don't think you're a girl.”

  “Then why did you do it? I mean, is that normal on Ohr – boys kissing other boys?”

  “Boys... girls... anything in between,” Zin calmly replied. “Why wouldn't it be?”

  Ayn didn't know how to respond. In The Holy City on Deius, such couplings were looked down upon, and had even been illegal before Ayn's mother became queen. The Dei raised Ayn to believe that romantic unions were only meant for a man and a woman; anything else was sacrilege.

  “But I thought you liked Lady Raven!” blurted Ayn, trying his best to process the situation.

  “I do like her, Ayn... but with you, it's different. You're special. You're... like my other half. I can't explain it, but I want to be close to your very soul. I need you, Ayn... and I think you need me too.”

  Before Ayn could gather his thoughts enough to reply, Zin bent down to kiss him again, which made Ayn feel extremely uneasy. He just couldn't understand. Only a short time ago, Zin had teased him for not seeming sexual in the slightest. Yet here he was, kissing him like some romantic hero in one of the old Deiusian love poems.

  The truth was, Ayn had always secretly wanted to be the hero in those poems and had usually imagined kissing a beautiful princess - not a prince. It all seemed so strange, and yet, it was still somewhat enjoyable. Ayn felt loved and alive, but more lost and confused than ever before.

  “Aw, look at these two little love birds. Ain't it sweet?”

  The unexpected, condescending voice instantly broke the tenderness of their kiss, making Ayn and Zin feel disoriented and almost naked.

  “It's just picture perfect!” shouted another sarcastically cruel voice.

  Ayn's senses began overloading with fear and confusion. He couldn't see them fully, but Ayn could tell he and Zin were surrounded by three or four men who had auras as dark as night. Who are these men approaching from the darkness? thought Ayn, panicked. What do they want? And where in Adin's name is Axis?!

  Jumping in front of Ayn, a young man with buzzed, dark hair and pierced lip grabbed Ayn by his right arm. He also had a tattoo on his forehead: a red dragon. Ayn was fascinated by it, yet too frightened to care.

  “Oh, lookie here! This one's got hair like a girl!” the red dragon-tattooed man yelled to the rest of his gang who were starting to emerge, one by one, from the darkness. Ayn tried to escape, but the man was too strong and was now pinning both of Ayn's arms together behind his back. The gang members laughed as they cheered, whistling and hollering.

  “Let him go!” Zin sharply demanded.

  The gang laughed at his words.

  “No,” said the man holding Ayn by his arms, “I don't think so. I think I'm gonna keep your little princess all to myself. What you gonna do about it, fish-boy?”

  Zin sneered, and then put down his elenon case, laying it carefully on the side of the street, next to their luggage. He cracked his neck, then stood directly in front of the gang member who had Ayn by the arms.

  “I should warn you,” Zin calmly said, snarling his lips, “I have been trained in the art of The Lirhan fighting style.”

  All the gang members mocked sounds of awe.

  “I'm so scared,” said the man holding Ayn.

  “You should be,” Zin replied.

  In what appeared like a flash, Zin punched the man in the right side of his rib cage, then immediately kicked him in the right side of his knee cap, causing the tattooed man to release Ayn, falling to his other knee. He wailed in pain as Zin pushed Ayn away. “Run!” Zin yelled.

  Ayn was in shock, but listened to Zin's command regardless. However, as he turned to run, he found himself blocked by two other gang members, both with the same type of buzz haircuts and piercings.

  “Please, go away!” begged Ayn.

  They laughed and grabbed him. One of them held Ayn’s left arm while the other held Ayn’s right. Zin was busy fighting off another member of their gang, but when he saw Ayn was in trouble, he quickly reacted by knocking his opponent down with a high kick to their throat. Ayn saw Zin's fighting ability and was amazed; it was something Ayn had no idea Zin could do.

  However, Ayn was too terrified to think about Zin’s fighting skills. All he could do was scream and yell for help. In the back of his mind, he prayed for Axis to rescue him, but only if Axis was indeed real and not just in Ayn’s mind.

  “Get away from my friend!” Zin once again demanded.

  The two gang members holding Ayn laughed. Zin saw that their eyes seemed to be reacting to something behind where he was standing. He quickly spun around and saw the man with the red dragon tattoo holding a plasma-gun, pointed right at Zin's chest.

  Within the span of about fifteen seconds, Zin's entire life flashed before his eyes: playing with his favorite toys as a child, holding his mother, arguing with his father, playing his elenon with Lady Raven... holding Ayn. Was it all going to end so quickly?

  A low-pitched resonance was heard, quickly followed by a thunderous shock wave and a beam of light hitting Zin's chest. He immediately fell to the ground.

  “NO!” Ayn yelled at the top of his lungs.

  The gang members all cheered as the man who shot Zin grinned, then mocked being an entertainer, taking a bow. He was obviously their leader, the man with the red dragon tattoo, and Ayn wanted him dead.

  Anger upon anger was rising inside Ayn like a tsunami of rage. It was so intense, he felt he could pass out from the feeling.

  “Don't worry, my little princess,” the tattooed man said as he came up to Ayn, grabbing him away from the other men who had held him before, “my gun ain't set to kill. That's not how I like to play. What's the fun if you kill 'em before you've taught 'em any lessons? Nah, don't worry, your fishy boyfriend ain't dead, he's just sleepin'. He's gonna have one hell of a headache though.”

  Ayn wanted to strangle the man, but he couldn't move. He hated how weak he was and how much stronger they were. He hated his body more than ever before.

  “I hate you!” Ayn screamed with red-hot tears streaming down his face. “Leave me alone!”

  “Oh, but yer so pretty,” said the red dragon-tattooed man as he licked his lips with a vicious grin.

  Swiftly, he yanked Ayn to the side of the street and pushed him down.

  “What you doin, boss?” said one of the other gang members.

  “Nothin!” the tattooed man shouted. “Just go and mind yer own business! Make sure that crazy fish-boy don't get back up and cause trouble. You can take his money and that weird instrument while yer at it.”

  The other gang members nodded nervously, then went back to where Zin was laying, scavenging him for valuables.

  Ayn squirmed and struggled underneath him, but the tattooed man had pinned Ayn firmly to the ground.

  Gods, please, Ayn silently prayed, if you can hear me, please, I need your help! I was The Adin! Please, hear me and come to my aid!

  Ayn was distracted from his praying, however, when the man began ripping off Ayn’s clothing. With one hand, he had both of Ayn's arms pushed down and was tearing his clothes with the other. It felt to Ayn like being violated by a giant monster made of stone – the very opposite of a red dragon.

  “You have no right to wear the holy Siya Dragon on your skin,” Ayn said as he snarled through his tears.

  “Shut up!” the gang leader snapped as he tore down Ayn's pants. Reaching between Ayn's legs, his face changed from determined anger to a look of amused shock. “Well, what do we have here? You are a pretty little princess after all!”

  Laughing wildly, the man with the red dragon tattoo shoved his fingers inside of Ayn's body – into the place that Ayn himself had never wanted to touch. It was his female part, and it was something Ayn never
wanted to acknowledge even existed, let alone have it penetrated in such a violent, horrific way.

  Then, the man did something even worse. Quickly removing his fingers from Ayn, he replaced them with the vile hardness that was between his legs, forcing himself into Ayn's tender, previously untouched body.

  It hurt beyond any pain Ayn had ever known. It hurt so much that he could barely think any longer. The dizzy, lifeless haze of defeat was starting to take control of his being, and he felt that any more of this horrendous pain would crush his very soul.

  Everything was going white, though he could still faintly hear the red dragon-tattooed man laughing and grunting. Ayn didn't want to leave his body. He wanted to stay and fight, but the pain was making him lose consciousness.

  Just then, through the haze in his mind, Ayn saw The Great Adin, wearing white and gold, appearing stoic and strong.

  “Get up and fight!” Adin ordered him.

  Ayn felt too weak. He tried to do as Adin commanded, but all he could do was cry.

  This seemed to make Adin very angry. He raised up his mighty arms, outstretching them into the heavens while lightening struck through the clouds.

  “I SAID GET UP!”

  Gasping, Ayn woke from his vision and found himself awake, though not entirely. It was a state of mind he had never experienced before: aware of everything, yet unaware of his own consciousness.

  The red dragon-tattooed man who had been selfishly thrusting into Ayn's body without even looking at him, suddenly felt an overwhelming need to look directly into Ayn's eyes.

  Blue... so blue. Unable to stop looking at the blue, thought the gang leader who was now caught within Ayn's power.

  Ayn stared at the tattooed man with a fierce intensity. His eyes appeared to the gang leader like they were on fire: a blue fire that made the man feel itchy and like he couldn't breathe. The more he looked into Ayn's scorching eyes, the more uncomfortable the itching became - to the point where he felt his entire face was going to burn up and explode.