by Kyrja
“She lied. That’s why,” he replied, taking a step away from him, back towards the door.
“But the high priest …” Oculis wasn’t sure what to say, but from what he knew of the story, something didn’t make sense. Would Drena have lied to her mother about what happened?
“I killed him,” Chared replied. “And the others too. All of them. I killed them all.”
“You killed them? Not Amphedia?” Oculis was reeling. “Then why did you help your sister?” He wanted so badly to just be able to say the words ‘But that doesn’t make any sense!’ but was afraid of enraging Chared further. Obviously it did to him in some way. Or, perhaps, he’d just gone insane and had killed everyone in the throes of madness.
“You really don’t understand, do you? Why is this so hard for you?” Chared shook his head, exhaling a burst of air in exasperation. “Drena was always supposed to be the mother, but I was supposed to be the father. Why is that so hard to understand? Together, we would have created an even stronger savior. Both of us could call the water. Don’t you think the heir of the Sea Goddess should be able to control water?”
“I see.” Oculis nodded his head slowly, wincing against the pain of having been thrown against the wall. “But why kill all those priests?”
“Because they disobeyed Amphedia. They let their fear of Rayisyn rule them, instead of being obedient to the will of the Goddess.” Chared explained, as if discussing why one would put their left foot in the sandal designed for that foot, instead of the one made for the right foot.
“Rayisyn?” Oculis asked.
“The high priest who violated Drena. He shouldn’t have done that. He never should have touched her.” Chared’s voice was tinged with anger again.
There were so many questions Oculis wanted to ask, but was afraid of setting him off again. If Drena was so important to him, why did Chared let the other priests of the Blue Dolphin Order kill his sister? And especially in such a brutal fashion? And how did he come by such powerful magic? He’d never thought to ask P’onyem about Chared’s father, and now it was too late.
“And the chains? If you had done nothing wrong, why the chains?” Oculis asked, hoping this was one topic that wouldn’t earn him another beating.
“How can you not know?” Chared shook his head. “You disgust me,” he said, his lip curling once more, his eyes dangerous. “I’m not like you, Oculis. I serve my goddess with the whole of my being. Obviously, I failed her. I was unworthy, or she would have kept her promise.” For a moment, he was sure Chared was going to return to beating him, but the moment passed when he turned away again, towards the door.
“I’m leaving now,” he told Oculis, looking back over his shoulder. “When Jarles arrives, I’m going to do everything in my power to help him.” He paused, turning back around to look directly at Oculis. “You should know I learned many things while I was chained to that stone tablet. Don’t get in my way.” Then he walked out the door and was gone.
Chapter Twenty – Aidena in the City
Leaning against the side of a building as if to take advantage of the shade it offered on a particularly hot late summer day, Kaya watched as Batal and two of the other Silver Swordfish priestesses he recognized walked past him, their faces blank. Only by turning her perfectly neutral face in his direction, as if casually surveying her surroundings, did she acknowledge his presence. For his part, it was difficult not to smile at her lack of smile. Savaar assured him that she would have no interest in him, as she was already spoken for. But Kaya had learned differently. The man she was to have married after ten years of service in the temple had died in an accident two years ago. Batal rarely spoke of it though, because she had decided to remain within the order when her training was complete.
The past twenty years had seen many changes throughout the city and beyond, since Jarles had been born, Kaya knew. Since he’d arrived in the city, he’d talked with many people, seeking out the history of his new home. He’d learned the entire culture of all the peoples of the land had been abruptly turned on its head when Amphedia had made it known her heir had been born. Kaya found it fascinating that even more than twenty years later, people were uncertain what to change, let alone how to change it. In his own homeland, there had been so much war and conflict for so long, the only consistency he’d found in his own lifetime had been that of change. Especially in those that ruled, be it king, queen, emperor, or self-proclaimed god.
Batal, and those like her, who served at the Temple of Life, remained uncertain what their role was. Before Jarles was born, most young men and women from the city were required to present themselves to the various temples throughout the city for placement as the priests and priestesses saw fit for a minimum of five years’ service. Some, depending on their bloodlines and some other factors he hadn’t been able to determine, were chosen to be the bedmates of the men and women who came from the desert, seeking Amphedia’s blessings to be chosen as either the mother or father of her heir. Batal had explained to him that it had always been assumed one parent would be of the desert and the other would be from the city, so everyone had been shocked when both the mother and father of the heir had been chosen from among the Tuq’deb.
Some were convinced the High Priest and Priestess from the Temple of Life had lied, and they should still be waiting for Amphedia to announce her heir by making an appearance in the city for all to see. Others were more than willing to leave the past behind so they could lead lives outside the temples. Most were simply confused, uncertain who or what to believe. Some families had outright refused to send their sons and daughters to serve in the temples, while others insisted such service was necessary to maintain order. Kaya found the conflict and chaos somehow comforting, especially since it appeared the only true violence seemed to stem from the Tuq’deb men who all, at some point, went insane. Not even Batal could explain that particular phenomena. He suspected Savaar knew, but was reluctant to talk to him about it.
He, at least, seemed to have recovered much of the good humor he’d always had before he’d discovered he was the true son of Amphedia brought back to life. Too, he seemed to be in his element, plotting and scheming with the various sects throughout the city. Kaya sometimes had to remind himself that what Savaar was doing was gravely serious and may very well result in the death of thousands of people, but it was difficult to fathom when his friend was so thoroughly enjoying himself.
He glanced around, taking a slow drink from his canteen, watching to see who was following Batal and her friends, the same as he’d done for the past five days, unsurprised to see two men from the Red Crab Order engaged in conversation as they trailed behind, looking for all the world as if they were simply taking a walk down the street together. Perhaps they were. Again. For the fifth day in a row. Directly behind Batal. Three priests from the Blue Dolphin Order, hand-picked by Savaar, would give them a chance to explain themselves when they turned the next corner. Either way, Kaya was fairly certainly he wouldn’t find the two of them following Batal tomorrow.
The city was on edge, he knew. Too many things were happening too quickly for a people who were slow to change the smallest detail of their lives. True, most of the changes were happening out of sight of most of the people, but they could feel the change in the very air around them. Something was happening, but they didn’t know what. Too many of the priests and priestesses were out in the streets, their demeanor tense. Worry and fear was being spread from one end of the city to the other, because nobody knew what to expect. Everyone thought their savior was coming, but had no idea how to prepare, nor what to expect. Each order and sisterhood was spying on each other, searching for clues. And Savaar was at the center of it all, encouraging the feeling of unrest. Soon, he knew, Jarles would arrive and everything would change whether anyone welcomed it or not.
Having completed his task of watching for Batal, Kaya pushed himself off the building, eager to be on to the next. He’d been waiting for days for this day to arrive. Savaar was convi
nced today would be the day Jarles would arrive, although he was supposed to have arrived a week ago if he would have stuck with the original plan. Savaar had only told him there had been an unexpected change of plans, one that was unavoidable. Kaya disliked that Savaar hadn’t told him any more than that, though. Usually he told him everything, because there was no one else with whom he could share his plans without giving away the charade he’d been perpetrating. Kaya couldn’t help but to feel as though there were plans within plans that he was now being left out of, and wondered just how things were going to end up, once everything was said and done.
“Hey there!” he heard a familiar, female voice call out to him. “Are you looking for me?”
Kaya knew he’d been staring, not believing his own eyes, for a moment too long for his actions to go unnoticed, so quickly raised his hand to return the enthusiastic wave the woman across the roadway was giving him, then broke into a quick trot to get to her before she mentioned Savaar’s name out loud.
With an exaggerated smile on his face, he swept her into a tight hug, saying loudly for anyone who might be listening, “My beautiful sister! I’m so happy you’re finally here!” He could feel her confusion in her stiffness. Watching heads turn, he whispered against her ear, telling her to follow his lead. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” he told her, holding her hands as he held her at an arm’s length. “I have an appointment just now,” he said, still talking over loudly, “but you can come with me, then we’ll have plenty of time to catch up!” He smiled at her, his eyebrows raised, silently asking her to play along.
“Oh, I would like that,” she replied, her own expression still a bit hesitant, but smiling. He took her hand then, urging her to walk with him until he was able to direct her into an alleyway where he would be able to see if anyone was watching them. When he was sure no one had followed them, he finally turned to the woman and hugged her again; this time with true warmth. When he released her, he smiled into her eyes, saying, “Aidena! I am so very glad to see you. Are you all right?”
“Yes!” the smile in her voice told him even more than her words.
“Ah,” he returned her smile. “So you have discovered I was right about being touched by a powerful goddess.” He was surprised when her smile faltered at his words.
“Yes,” she sighed, shaking her head a little. “You have no idea everything that has happened since I last saw you and Savaar.” She paused, then asked, “Where is he?”
“Now that,” he told her, “is a very complicated matter.”
“I know,” she said, “Jarles has told us about the plan to make Savaar Amphedia’s heir.”
“What?” Kaya couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Jarles is with you? Who is “us”?”
“Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll introduce you,” she suggested. “I think you’re going to like Jarles, he reminds me of a younger version of Savaar sometimes, because he can be a little touchy.”
Kaya couldn’t help but to chuckle at the comparison, but was looking forward to Aidena being re-introduced to Savaar now that he wasn’t angry all the time. He had a tremendous amount of respect for the man, even though he wasn’t, after all, a “man,” as much as he was a god. It was hard for him to remember that sometimes, though, because he’d known Savaar first as a soldier, not as Amphedia’s son. Since his plan for the day was to have included watching for Jarles’ arrival, Kaya executed a half bow with a smile, saying, “Lead the way!”
As he bowed, he’d kept his eyes on Aidena, so had seen the sudden change in her expression, from delight to startlement and fear in the blink of an eye. Fear flashed through his veins, imagining someone sneaking up from behind with a weapon, intent on murder. Before he even finished the bow, he was lurching forward, tackling Aidena in the process, taking her to the ground, then rolling off her to jump back to his feet, ready to face his attacker. But there was no one there. The street was filled with people, as it was on any other day, but there was no obvious threat, nor even anyone near them.
“What just happened?” Aidena asked, taking the hand Kaya offered her.
“You tell me,” he replied, his heart racing. He’d been prepared to attack an enemy intent on murder. His body had responded perfectly, flooding his veins with the energy to respond in kind, only to discover nothing to respond to. Making his body relax after such a jolt wasn’t going to be easy, he knew, doing his best to curb his anger. He’d been a soldier most of his life, always fearful he wouldn’t be good enough to meet the challenges of battle. He wanted to swear, or at least punch something. “What did you see behind me?” he asked, doing his best to shake off the need to do violence.
“My mother,” Aidena responded, her own expression unreadable. “Or,” she added, “I suppose I should say both of my mothers. And my daught … sister! By Sov! What are they doing here?!” she asked, looking at him, her eyes warring between fear and anger.
“Both?” Kaya was confused. “What …?” He didn’t get to finish the question though, as Aidena gasped, her gaze directed, once more, behind him. This time he could feel it when the heat of the adrenaline flashed through his body. Glancing at her, he saw her looking high in the sky and saw the owl she was following with her eyes.
“No! No! No! What is he doing?” Kaya heard Aidena whisper with fear.
“What is it Aidena?” he asked, grabbing her by the arms. “Tell me!”
“That owl!” she told him. “That’s Oculis. He is the eyes of Siri Ventus, the Goddess of Air. They’re here, in the city!” As Kaya was trying to make sense of her distress, she twisted her arm, freeing herself from his grip, then grabbed his hand, saying, “Hurry! We have to go tell the others. Come with me!” In the next moment, he was running with her, with no idea what was happening.
Chapter Twenty – One – Jarles Remembers
Jarles adjusted the headband on his qatyeh for what seemed like the hundredth time, feeling as though his skin was too tight. How do people stand all this water? he wondered, yet again. He finally understood how his mother had felt in the visions he’d seen of her. When he’d been her. He remembered thinking that she was constantly complaining, in her own mind, about how everything was too wet. And while she had never experienced life immersed in water as he had, thanks to Amphedia’s constant interference, he had found her complaints tiring. Never again! he vowed. Even when he had been submerged in a body of water – lake, stream, lagoon, river, or ocean, he’d never felt like this. In fact, he’d never truly noticed any difference in his own body or skin when he’d been under water. Here, though, he felt bloated, tired, and as if the very air around him was almost too thick to breathe. Like his mother before him, he just wanted to go back home.
Instead, he was, at long last, in the city by the sea. Exactly where he never wanted to be. Oh, he knew what he had to do, and he would do it, but he wanted, more than anything, to just go back to the desert and leave all of this “heir” business behind him. He had done his best to just let events flow through and around him, without giving into frustration or impatience, but it was very hard to just sit still, waiting. He, Maw’ki, and his grandfather were sitting quietly at a group of tables near one of the many temples strewn throughout the city, not drawing attention to themselves. The rest were out trying to find Savaar and the best way to approach him. They couldn’t very well just knock on the door at the temple of the Blue Dolphin Order to ask the priests there to present him.
Deciding he didn’t care what the others thought at this moment, he put his head down on his arms to just rest. His head felt too full of things he didn’t want to know and his heart felt too empty because he couldn’t stand to feel all he felt. Feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t change anything he knew; it had certainly done him absolutely no good in the past and wouldn’t serve him now. But after the last vision of his mother, and all that had happened to him … her … he felt as if he had just lost her all over again.
When he had found himself laying in the sand at Maw’ki�
��s feet, he’d been nothing but an empty shell. He’d been entirely confused about who he even was. His entire body had felt beaten and bruised, even in places he knew he didn’t possess. He’d felt angry and ashamed all at once, unable to comprehend where he was. He’d even shed tears for the first time in his life for never having known his father. Before the most-recent vision, he’d never even known what Jonath had looked like. Even now, he had only ever seen his father when he’d already been dead. He’d been unreasonably pleased, though, to discover his father had had a goatee just like his own.
And he had some precious memories, ones he would carry with him throughout the rest of his days, gleaned from his mother’s memories when he’d felt as if he had been her in the vision. He could still taste his father’s lifewaters as he’d taken them in while in his mother’s body. For some reason he would never be able to explain, he was grateful for the precious gift of having been able to stand within the essence of his mother’s mind, body, and spirit while she had claimed his lifewaters. He felt as if he now carried the true “self” of both of his parents within him. And, for the first time in a long time, he missed them. Truly missed them.
His Grandpa Kerr and Maw’ki were doing their best to get along for his sake, he knew; it seemed as though they had agreed to some kind of truce. He was glad, even if they were only pretending in front of him, because they were all he had left of his parents and he just wouldn’t be able to stand it if they were at each other’s throats right now. He opened one eye, turning his head a little, knowing he would find Maw’ki sitting a small distance to his right. He had a hard time imagining himself calling her “grandmother,” since he’d never called her anything other than Maw’ki since he’d first met her. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seemed as though she gave a little smile each time he called her that. He might, after all, end up calling her “grandmother” at some point, though, as she certainly didn’t seem “crazy” nor insane. He couldn’t help but to wonder if his perception of her mental health when he’d been younger had been purposefully manipulated in order to keep her out of his life. Either way, he was fairly sure she had a secret or two she was keeping, but she seemed pretty intent on sticking around this time, to help him with whatever plans he might have.
