Radiant

by Ela Lourenco

  “Beware false prophets who would deceive

  Nothing is as you perceive

  Lies are truth and truths are lies

  You must see beyond their disguise

  The dark gains power with each setting sun

  Xanos will end if nothing is done

  Heed our words, heed our call

  If you do not the world will fall,” an eerie voice whispered.

  “Who is there?” Sena darted off the rock she had been perched on. She looked around but there was no one in sight.

  “We warn but once, our job is done. The next steps you must take alone.”

  “Hello?” Sena called out. “Who are you?” She waited a moment, but there was no response from the strange voice. Summoning her powers, she sent out a bright flash of light into the thick clump of trees nearby illuminating the entire area. There was nothing there except a few startled looking forest animals. Feeling slightly unsettled, yet unafraid, she got up to make her way home. She should have been spooked senseless, but there had been something oddly familiar about the voice. Lost in thought at this new puzzle, she made her way back home, blissfully unaware of the lone figure watching her from the forest.

  Chapter Two

  It was the middle of the night, as the man moved stealthily through the now deserted streets of Sylios, the usually bustling capital city of Xanos. He made his way hidden by way of shadows until he reached a house at the end of the road. Glancing around furtively, he ensured that no one had followed him before quickly despelling the lock wards on the front door and slipping inside. The house, which on the outside looked just like all the others on the street, had in fact been spelled to hide in plain sight; yet another ingenious idea his master, known to all the other members of their organisation only by his title Dohar, had come up with. The man threw off his hood, as he strode down the long tunnel-like hallway and down the stairs to the basement. Performing another series of spells, he unwarded the next door before entering a small dark stone cabin. Waving his hand over a hidden panel, he activated the construct and waited as it lurched downward deep into the bowels of Xanos itself.

  Descent completed, he swept through a short and narrow hall leading him to the ancient cavernous temple where their secret society, Sahat, held court. Giant bronze stone statues of the gods stood at attention around the circular domed chamber and the scent of centuries past clung to the air. He was late and the session was already in full swing, as he silently walked around the back row of the amphitheatre. A glimmer of pride warmed him as his master, the Dohar, and leader of them all, nodded in his direction.

  The Dohar was a great man, a most learned scholar, and true patriot. He had sacrificed more than any of them for the advancement of their cause. And whilst many of the other powerful men and women on Xanos gave preference to members of their own race, whether Hectian or Sybeli, the Dohar held no such prejudices. He rewarded loyalty and hard work. And though his master was a Hectian himself, he had not hesitated in choosing him, a Sybeli, as his right hand man.

  He waited patiently in the shadows as some of the other members of Sahat argued backward and forward—it was always the same. Even though none of them were of great power or importance, they liked to air their views as though they were single-handedly solving the problems of Xanos. Snorting with disdain under his breath, he watched as the Dohanna—the second in command—rose to address the court. She was overdressed as usual, fully decked in the gaudy jewellery she liked to decorate herself with. It was as though she believed that by showing off her wealth, she would somehow gain importance. It was no secret that she coveted the master’s role and envied his position. But she would never become the Dohar, or Dohara, as she would be called since she was female. All she cared about was power and appearances. She was not a true fighter for the cause and everyone was aware of it. In fact, the only reason his master had allowed her to become the Dohanna had been because she was Sybeli. It was written in the ancient scrolls of the Sahat that it was forbidden for both the leaders to be of the same race, and the Dohar was meticulous about upholding the society’s laws.

  A sudden movement caught his eye causing him to still, every fibre in his being ready to leap at the first sign of trouble. Locating the source, his body relaxed slightly. It was only one of the younger members shifting in his seat. But he would never become complacent, no. There were many who had their eye on bringing the Dohar down, not that they would ever succeed—not with him around. His master had found him in the backstreets of Sylios, beaten within an inch of his life after a mugging gone wrong. Yet, instead of turning him over to the authorities, he had found him a place to live and a job, mentored, and trained him personally. He owed everything to his master and would never be able to repay the kindness he had shown the teenage orphan he had been. He had no doubt that left to his own devices he would have died that day, or been thrown into prison for the rest of his miserable life. He would protect the Dohar with his life and made it his business to always observe the vultures milling around his master. Over the years, he had become highly proficient in shadow magick, and was able to blend with his surroundings so well that others rarely noticed him unless he wished them to.

  The Dohar and Dohanna rose in tandem, signalling the end of the meeting, and the man approached them silently wrapping himself in shadows once more as the other members trundled out of the court room.

  “The younger ones grow restless,” the Dohanna shrugged, her many bejewelled bracelets jangling. “They question our lack of action.”

  “And what action is there to be taken?” the Dohar asked with his usual patience.

  “We have done nothing this past decade. Some of the apprentices are losing faith in the cause.”

  “Or is someone whispering in their ear and prompting them to dissent?”

  The Dohanna paled slightly. “Of course not!” she gesticulated wildly, the multi-coloured gems at her throat winking glaringly in the candlelit chamber. “I am completely devoted to you and our cause, Dohar, I would never—”

  “Who said what, it is irrelevant,” the Dohar waved dismissively. “What matters is that we remain focussed on our goal.”

  “Some are near forgetting what that even is.”

  “Our one and only purpose, dear Dohanna, is as ever, the protection of Xanos. That is what we have all been working for all these years. That is why our forefathers created this very organisation, so that we may continue the fight to defend our home and our people.” He paused for a brief moment. “What have we done, you ask? We have been paving the way, preparing for what is to come. We must continue to do so, and be patient, Lord Ishkan will appear to us when the time is right.”

  The Dohanna looked as though she would say something more, but decided against it seeing that she had been dismissed. Scowl barely veiled, she bowed slightly and took her leave.

  “Come, my apprentice, we have much to discuss,” the master said.

  The younger man followed his mentor out of the temple chamber and into the study that the Dohar kept nearby. This was not the chamber he used when dealing with the other members, but a secret room well-concealed in one of the many labyrinthine tunnels around the main hall. Only Ari knew of its existence. This was where they always meet, far from prying eyes. This was also where the Dohar kept the sacred documents of Xanos. He did not trust any but his apprentice with the knowledge of their location.

  “Another court adjourned. I admit that I grow weary, Ari,” his master sighed, taking off the mask, which all members wore in order to maintain their identities secret from one another. If one were ever caught and interrogated, they would not be able to point out the others. Of course, there were those members who were not so adept at concealing their true selves despite the masks. Their mannerisms and conversation gave them away. But no one knew who the Dohar really was, no one except for Ari. The Dohar trusted him implicitly.

  “How may I
help to ease your burden, my liege?”

  The older man smiled kindly at his apprentice. “You already do so, Ari. I could not wish for more. You have never let me down, and you are one of the few true believers in our cause.”

  “But Sahat’s membership has nearly doubled in the last five years,” Ari exclaimed.

  “Ah, yes,” the Dohar sighed wearily. “So it has. However, the majority of them have joined the fold as a means of gaining power. They are merely here to serve themselves. Do not be fooled that their true intentions are to protect their fellow Xanians. Our organisation is weakening, Ari. The corruption and lust for power and glory are eating away at it.”

  “The Dohanna has a role in that,” Ari snorted disdainfully.

  “Yes, that she does. Sadly though, we cannot displace her without inciting dissension amongst the ranks. Too many of our pledges have been brought in by her personally. And, for all that she is, a shallow and vapid woman with an inflated sense of self-importance, she is also weak. She sees what we wish her to see. Another Dohanna might not be so easily controlled.”

  Ari nodded. As ever, his master spoke wisely. For all her flaws, the Dohanna did nothing more than cause petty disputes amongst the members in a bid to make herself seem the benevolent mediator. Oh, she most assuredly wanted the Dohar spot for herself, but was too lazy and not dearly devious enough to make a serious bid for it.

  “Come, sit,” the Dohar gestured towards the comfortable armchair facing his own seat behind the large ebony desk. “And tell me what you have found out.”

  “I visited the soothsayer, Lyli, as you requested, sire. It was not easy finding her, I will admit. That is why I am returned so late,” he said apologetically.

  “She always was a wily old fox,” the Dohar chuckled. “Likes to lead those seeking answers on a merry chase.”

  Ari nodded. “I finally located her cave deep in the Seros Mountains.”

  “Let me guess, you had to complete a series of tests and succeed in evading numerous traps before you were able to reach her.”

  “Yes, my liege, just so,” Ari admitted. “Once I was permitted in her lair, I did as you asked and showed her the scroll. She told me to wait in the antechamber and disappeared through a small opening at the back of the cave. I waited there for three days, master. There were moments I thought that she was not coming back, that she had fled with the scroll. But just as I was about to leave, she reappeared out of nowhere. She was paler than fresh snow and dishevelled practically beyond recognition. She threw the scroll at me and ordered me to leave immediately.”

  “Which you of course did not do.”

  Ari shook his head. “No, indeed, master. I would not return from the mission you sent me on empty-handed.” He opened the large leather travel bag he carried and took out a small but perfectly formed blue crystal. “She shouted and screamed at me for what seemed an eternity, and once she realised I would not leave, she grabbed my arms. That was when it happened. Her eyes turned completely white, and she began to speak in a language I did not understand. Her voice deepened as though someone else spoke through her.”

  “Ancient Xanian, that is what she spoke,” the Dohar muttered to himself as gestured for his apprentice to continue.

  “I tried to pull away from her, but I found I could not,” Ari said with awe. “It was as though she had the strength of a hundred warriors.” He had been shocked and not a little unafraid when the tiny old woman had demonstrated such power. “There was a sudden burst of wind in the cave, and a strange light glowed briefly in her eyes before everything stilled and she returned to her previous state.

  “She had a vision,” his master stated. “I have never had the fortune of witnessing one for myself, but what you have told me is just as it is described in the ancient books.” He trailed off lost in thought. “So, the old woman has visions. That I did not expect, glimpses into the past and near future yes, but full-blown visions,” he said more to himself than Ari.

  “I thought visions were old wives” tales,” Ari admitted.

  “No one knew for sure that they were real. Even in the oldest history books, there are detailed accounts of such things but no proof. Many believed them to be stories made up around campfires by our first ancestors. It seems that although rare, they do in fact exist.” He turned to his apprentice sharply. “What did she say or do afterwards? This is very important, Ari.”

  “She looked at me for a long time, sire, and in such a way it felt as though she were peering right down into the very essence of my spirit. Then she smiled at me and gave me this crystal,” he pointed to the object he had placed on the table. “But before I could ask her what it was, or did, she had vanished into thin air.”

  His mentor stared at the small blue stone in silence before reaching for it. He held it carefully in the palm of his hand, inspecting it from every angle, as though he could see the mysteries of the universe there. “I am at a loss,” he admitted. “I could work a spell on it, but I fear that if I were to choose the wrong one, we could damage the artefact. Who knows what that sly old woman has done to it?” He shook his head. “I will think on this, Ari. We need to proceed with caution.” He looked back up to his apprentice with a warm smile. “My thanks to you, as ever, you have completed your task with devotion and strength.”

  Ari bowed, basking in his mentor’s praise.

  “I want you to follow these people,” the Dohar stated, handing him list of newly recruited Sahat members. “Find out what you can about them and their motivations.”

  “Yes, my liege,” Ari stood to attention, bowed again deeply before leaving the chamber once more cloaking himself in shadows.

  Once alone, the Dohar’s smile turned into a dark scowl of barely contained anger. He picked up the crystal again. “So old woman, you think to play games with me? You seek to hide knowledge that is mine by right. We shall see who wins this round. I am no longer the young novice you knew so long ago. We shall see.”

  Chapter Three

  Sena walked towards the forest path, a large basket tucked under her arm. The sun was barely beginning its ascent into the sky, casting a soft orange light warring with the yet present dark violet glow of the twin moons. The town streets were silent in the half-light of the dawn, its inhabitants still all abed. Sena was not usually up so early herself, but she had slept fitfully. Strange dreams and voices plaguing her rest until she had finally decided to get up and face the new day. She was restless. There was a strange feeling in the air, an odd disturbance in the natural balance of magick. A cold chill shot down her spine, as she entered the forest. The voice … the voice she had heard the night before, she still wasn’t sure whether it was real or if she had merely imagined it. It had felt so real, and yet, she had cast her magick out seeking for the owner of the voice. There had been no one there. She must have imagined it, and yet, the warning behind the words struck a chord deep inside her.

  Sena shook her head. There would be a rational explanation for everything. Perhaps the magick and spells she had watched at the concert had caused her imagination to run wild. Stopping near the stream, she bent down to pick some wild Fenyr growing at the base of the trees. Her mother would be pleased. Fenyr was not easily come by at this time of year, and there wasn’t usually so much of it. It was perhaps the most important of the herbs on her list. The deep crimson leaves were dried and brewed to make a tea, which could cure a variety of digestive ailments; and the blue berries were one of the main ingredients in the potions used for treating Phylgia, the most horrible and infectious disease on Xanos. Sena smiled sadly as she gathered as many Fenyr as she could find.

  Her birth parents had died of Phylgia when she was a baby along with over half of the population of Jya. It was a terrible illness. No one knew where it came from or how to cure it. All they could do was to treat the symptoms with Fenyr and make the afflicted comfortable. Whether the patient lived or succumbed was all down to l
uck. Some survived, others did not. There had not been another Phylgia epidemic in Jya since Sena’s parents had died over fifteen years ago. Her mother, Allaya, still worked on finding a cure for it when she was not busy preparing medicines and attending to her patients in Jya. It was a great source of frustration to her that she had not found a way to stop the disease or figure out how to prevent it altogether.

  Spotting a small clump of Kylora a little deeper into the forest, Sena grabbed her basket and walked over.

  “Hello,” a voice startled her.

  Sena spun around. A tall, young man with dark hair and the greenest eyes was moving towards her, a half smile on his face. He looked familiar somehow.

  He held his hands up apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Kyan.”

  “You are the singer of the Unforeseen,” Sena stated.

  “Guilty as charged,” he grinned. “But how did you know who I was? No one ever recognises me without my stage make up and outfits.”

  “Really? You look the same to me and your voice is very distinctive. I’m sure people notice.”

  He shook his head. “Nope. Even my most diehard fans walk past me without a second glance. They are all expecting the glitz and sparkle of my showbiz alter ego. No one looks past the façade.”

  Sena shrugged. “Hiding in plain sight? I would imagine that you appreciate the anonymity.” She shuddered as she remembered the mob of girls clamouring to get his attention last night after the show. She felt sorry for him. Even here in Jya, which was by no means a large city, he had not found a respite from his fans.

  Kyan’s green eyes sparkled with mirth. “Absolutely. You must be a mind reader.”

  “No, I just know how I would feel in your place.”