The Riddle of the Gods

by Lyra Shanti

  Sterek slowly turned to face Yol. With tears forming in his eyes, he said, “No. You talk a good game, but you are a liar, Yol, and I have proof.”

  Reaching into his pocket, Sterek held up a small computer chip.

  “What is that?” asked Yol.

  “It is a recording,” said Sterek with a sneer, “of you and Councilman Octian, and then with Governor Seith of Xen. It shows you discussing your plans to eliminate King Atlar... among other dubious plots, which are highly illegal. Most incriminating is your order to send Atlar to Sirin so he may join the Deiusian royals you captured and forced into slavery, if not join them in their deaths. That, my Fah, is the truth of who you are, or who you've now become.”

  Walking closer to Yol, Sterek continued as Yol looked genuinely worried. “Let me tell you what the truth is, Yol, since you seem to have forgotten how to discern it any longer. You are a vengeful, unethical liar and murderer, and I will not stand for it! I will show the world who you really are, starting with the Deiusian nobles who are only too anxious to find fault with you. I can only assume you will soon be hunted like a dog, not only by Kri, but by everyone you have ever wronged, especially Hynfir!”

  “Enough!” shouted Yol. “You have no idea what you are talking about! I have done everything for the well-being of others! I have done all of these plots and plans for the betterment of Deius, and for the whole galaxy! You have no scope, Sterek. You are just a clueless, idealistic little boy who wants things simple and black and white, but that's not the world as it is. You have no idea how complex it is and how easy it is to slip into the gray!”

  “I don't care!” Sterek yelled back. “I'm leaving. I'm done with your lies. Just as Hynfir came to realize, I too have come to see the truth of you, and I am no longer standing with you.”

  “Fine!” Yol roared, which reverberated throughout the room. For a second, it appeared as if the lifeless body twitched its feet, but neither Yol nor Sterek could be sure. Agitated and slightly unnerved, Yol pointed to the door. “Go ahead, boy. Leave, if that's what you want to do... but know this; if you show that recording to others without them understanding the full scope of my plans and why I have done these things, then you will be causing a war that did not need to happen. Thousands of people will needlessly die because of your childish misunderstanding.”

  “It is no misunderstanding, Yol... and it is too late. I already sent a copy of it to Hynfir. It's only a matter of time before he shows it to others. You better prepare yourself for war, which you will be fighting alone. I'm taking Fola with me, and we're leaving. Goodbye.”

  Not wanting to give Yol another chance to speak, Sterek bowed one last time to the man who had raised him, then headed for the door.

  Yol had the urge to jump him – to stop him at all costs from leaving - but he didn't. Instead, he let Sterek go, though not without a price to be paid.

  Reaching for his plasma-radio, which he carried on his hip at all times to communicate with his top Tah soldiers, Yol gave the order to arrest Sterek on grounds of treason. “Attention, all units,” said Yol, “General Sterek has confessed to trading Tah secrets to Kri. He is en-route to join the traitor Hynfir and cannot be trusted. My soldiers, no matter your previous respect for General Sterek, I want him arrested immediately, then held in our most guarded prison so he can await trial. Do not let General Sterek leave the palace!”

  The Tah soldiers heard his command, but had a hard time believing his words. First Hynfir, and now Sterek. What was happening to their leaders? They didn't understand, but they were well trained to follow Yol's orders; something Lord General Hynfir had instilled in them.

  Yol sighed, then turned around to face the lifeless body beside him.

  “Soon, my love, “he whispered, “we will be together, and all this insanity will end. I promise you, just be patient.”

  Touching its bandaged hand for a moment, Yol breathed in deep, then let his mind wander. The memory of her smile, her long, golden-brown hair, and her twinkling green eyes filled him with longing and joy.

  “Will we always be together?” the memory of his younger self asked her.

  “Yes, my love,” she said with a wrinkled nose and playful eyes, “of course! We will be together as long as the ocean meets the sand and the moon pulls on the waves.”

  “I love you.” Yol whispered to the body as it lay there in the darkness.

  For a moment, he heard her say the same words in reply, though he knew it was merely his imagination. He had no idea if her soul was present in the room with him or not, or if there even was such a thing as a soul. As a man of science who always hated the religion that had been pushed on him as a child by The Dei, Yol didn't want to believe in such a thing as a soul. It led into the realm of believing in fantasies that could not be proven, such as Gods and spirits. He wanted nothing to do with the Gods! If they did exist, they were cruel and oblivious to the pain of their own creations, and they did not deserve anyone to pray to them.

  However, the soul was a concept Yol was beginning to wonder about. Could it be real? He pondered. Are we more than just our minds or our appearance? What are we exactly? Are we plasma? Are we the unknown energy of our consciousness?

  As Yol sat down next to the lifeless body, still reeling from Sterek's betrayal, he couldn't help but think, What is the soul?

  Chapter 8: In Flames

  Looking at himself in the mirror, Ayn couldn't believe the reflection he saw staring back at him. With long, silky black hair, deep blue eyes, and pouting lips, Ayn already looked more feminine than he preferred to appear. Now with light-blue eye shadow applied and rose color added to his lips and cheeks, he could easily pass as a girl.

  The groomers had been instructed by Bolgara to not only dress him in a beautiful blue dress to match his eyes, but to bring out the softer features on his face, and it worked. Despite Ayn's slightly masculine looking jaw, he didn't have large muscles in his arms, nor overly manly features, so it wasn't hard for the groomers to dress him up according to their lady's orders. Even though he didn't have female breasts, Ayn looked like a pretty young woman, and it horrified him.

  “There we are,” said Bolgara, clapping her hands with a nervous smile plastered on her face. “Aren't we a perfect sight?!”

  Ayn swallowed and almost cried right then and there. What was left of his pride didn't allow him to do it though.

  “Now,” said Bolgara as she shooed the groomers out of the room, “I wonder what sort of hat we could put on you. Hmm... you already have a slight Krian Dryndi look to your dress. Maybe you would fair best with a veil instead. Let's try this one!”

  Putting a see-through, blue veil over Ayn's head, which wrapped over his face, emphasizing his eyes, Bolgara sighed in delight. “There!” she exclaimed. “You're the face of true beauty! You're not just The Bodanya now, my sweetness, you are the goddess of love as well!”

  Clapping her hands in glee, as if she had just won a hefty sum of credit in a game of cards, she turned Ayn around and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

  “Alright, my dear, I'm just going to make sure the other harem girls are ready. You wait here, and I'll send for you when everything is ready. Oh, my husband will be so happy! Not only have I tamed you, like I knew I would, but you will be the best of the entertainment this evening, and believe me, we need to entertain our guests tonight well. These two lords of Deius came to us out of nowhere! No warning, nothing! They are very rich though, and highly connected, so we have to please them. I would like you to play that flute of yours tonight and play them a sweet tune, although I'm certain your beauty alone will be more than enough to satisfy them.”

  Nodding, as if re-affirming her own words, Bolgara then walked out the door, leaving Ayn alone with his disconnected, feminized reflection.

  Without anyone there, Ayn was free to let his heart and mind roam. Though his previous numbness had saved him from the torture of his imprisonment, this new horror was entirely different, and nothing prepared him for it. As a tear
fell down his face, he wondered why all this was happening to him. Had he deserved it somehow? Was he being tested? His mind raced as he stared at himself in the mirror.

  Trying to collect himself, he wished Axis was there. He tried to imagine his golden friend, sitting on the chair nearby, but he couldn't keep the image in his head for long. Pushing himself to remember his friend nonetheless, Ayn imagined what he would say to Axis if they were reunited.

  “Why do I look so female, Axis? Why?!”

  No voice replied.

  Trying again, Ayn paced and said, “If I can look like this, why did Meddhi-Lan decide I should be a boy at birth and that I should be referred to as a 'he?' Tell me, Axis, what makes a man a man? I have both sexes down below my waist, so how am I really a man? I mean, I feel like one inside, but so what? No one cares about how I feel.”

  Again, silence.

  “Axis, can you explain why I'm this way, or at least tell me what I am? I need to know whether or not I'm male or female. Look at me, Axis! I'm so female in this dress! How can I know who and what I am if I am always pulled to be one way or another, depending on who it is that sees me? Other people dictate my identity! It's not fair! Why couldn't I be born normal like everyone else? Why did I have to be The Bodanya? What a joke! There's no such thing, is there? Answer me, Axis! Axis?! Where are you?!”

  There was no answer from Axis, who unbeknownst to Ayn, was on another planet in an entirely different time zone, and out of reach from Ayn's call.

  However, a voice did come, deep from the source of Ayn's power. It was a voice Ayn didn't want to hear, for he feared the man behind the voice more than he feared anything, even slavery. Despite his fears, the voice came through clear and strong.

  “You are who you are,” said Adin as Ayn looked at himself in the mirror, “and no one but you can know who or what you are. Gender, or any other part of you, is for you alone to decide.”

  Ayn took short breaths as he felt his soul aching deep within him.

  “How... how can I know?” he asked Adin, desperate for an answer.

  As Ayn looked into the mirror, his feminine reflection transformed in his mind and became the image of The Great Adin: tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in gold, and extremely masculine.

  “You must forget what Meddhi-Lan taught you,” said Adin, “for good or bad. You must forget what anyone has ever told you about who you are or what you must do. It is not for them to decide, Ayn. It is only for you to feel the truth of who you are and choose what path you wish to take in this life.”

  “I don't feel like I'm a woman!” Ayn blurted out. “Not because Meddhi-Lan said I am a man, but because I feel like I am one! I always have!”

  “Then you have your answer,” said Adin, smiling.

  Ayn pouted and replied, “Then why do I look like... THIS?!” Crying, he was ruining the make-up around his eyes, but he didn't care.

  Adin did not answer, for Ayn no longer listened to him. He had his hands covering his face as he slumped down in a chair.

  Bolgara found Ayn on the chair, curled up and crying. She quickly ran to get him a tissue and said, “Oh no, my dear, this isn't good. You can't lose it on me now! They're expecting you to play your flute!”

  She picked up Ayn's face, and his tear-stained face went cold as he looked at her. It frightened her a little, but she immediately took to the task of wiping his tears, and then re-applying his make-up.

  “You're going to be fine, sweetheart. Just don't think about it much. You don't have to play if you don't want to. You can just serve the drinks, that's fine. But you have to go out there, honey. If you don't, my husband will kill us both. I don't know why, sweetie, but he hates you. He fears you, really... and doesn't like me much either. Please, my dear, you can do this. You have to!”

  Ayn stared ahead, dead-faced.

  Not knowing what else to do, she threatened alerting Thotwa to Ayn's defiance. When that didn't seem to affect Ayn either, she broke down and went to her knees. “Please, my boy,” she begged him with her hands on his sandal-clad feet, “this is my last chance. He really will kill me if I don't please him. My husband is insane, Ayn. He wants to prove you're not The Bodanya, and he thinks I'm in love with you. If I don't present you this way to prove my loyalty, as well as his control over you, he will kill me! Please, Ayn, help me!”

  Crying, she continued to beg at his feet. Ayn felt sick about her begging, and it disgusted him. However, he also felt somewhat sorry for the pathetic woman at his feet.

  “Alright,” he said, “I will do as you wish... for tonight anyway.”

  Bolgara's face lit up as she rose to her knees. “Thank you, my sweet boy! I promise you'll be rewarded. No matter what humiliation my crazy husband puts you through, I promise to take care of you and give you all that you ask for. If you just do what he wants, we'll both live, and I will give you all that your heart desires.”

  Ayn gave a quiet, sarcastic laugh, then said, “There is nothing I desire any longer.”

  Bolgara picked Ayn up by his hands, then led him out through the door. “Regardless, sweetheart, I will keep you alive and healthy, I promise.”

  As she led him to where the other harem girls were standing, Ayn saw they were all holding trays of food and wine. Bolgara gave him a pitcher of wine as well, then told him to head directly to the main table where her husband and the two lords were seated. “Go to them and offer some wine. All you have to do is look pretty and seem well behaved. It will make my husband pleased and our guests happy as well.”

  Ayn sighed and picked up the pitcher of wine with his right hand. He knew if he fought at this point, it would be futile. What would come of his rebellion? He figured he'd only get more solitary confinement and plasma shocks. Ayn had no urge to receive more of that sort of punishment. Plus, Bolgara seemed genuinely frightened, and he felt sorry for her. Ayn could only imagine Seith was just as cruel to his wife as he had been to him, if not even more so.

  He decided he would allow this humiliation, at least for now. Nothing much hurt him when he felt his numbness anyway, and it had returned again once Adin left his mind. Ayn was almost glad for the numb feeling, for it felt far better than the pain.

  Ushered out with the other dozen or so harem girls, wearing their own glamorous dresses, Ayn and the other young slave-women all headed to the entertainment room. The room was large and oval shaped with large pillows strewn about the red carpeted floor. Ayn immediately looked for Seith, wanting to be done with his wine duties as soon as possible. The eel-looking governor was sitting on one of the large pillows next to the two pampered lords Bolgara had mentioned.

  Carefully carrying the wine pitcher, Ayn slowly walked over to them, suddenly nervous beyond belief. He didn't know why he felt so anxious. Where had the numbness gone? Why was he so scared?

  Trying his best to place his feelings, something told Ayn to look more closely at the man sitting to Seith's right. He was a well-dressed lord in a deep red, knee-length suit with purple trimmings. His hair was dark and braided down to his mid-back, and as Ayn looked closer, he saw the lord wearing an extremely familiar red and gold medallion. Ayn gasped, for he knew it was his. Why it was now hanging around some wealthy lord's neck, he had no idea.

  Completely taken by surprise by the medallion, Ayn accidentally tripped on the carpet, causing him to drop the pitcher of wine, which landed directly onto one of the lords' shiny black boots.

  “How dare you?!” Seith reprimanded. “Don't you know who this is, you stupid girl?! This is Lord Erys Vrin and Lord General Hynfir Astire of Deius! Apologize to them at once or it will be the plasma shock for you!”

  Not realizing that the girl who had tripped was actually Ayn, Seith's face turned almost white when Ayn slowly raised his head. For fear of what Ayn might do in retaliation, Seith immediately held up his plasma controller in an unspoken threat.

  “No, it's alright,” said Pei. “I don't mind. It's just a little wine... no harm done.”

  That voice... thought Ayn. W
here do I know that voice?

  As Ayn slowly turned his head to look directly at Pei, their eyes met, and for a moment, the room disappeared for them both.

  Ayn?! thought Pei.

  Pei?! thought Ayn, as if he had heard him.

  Gulping back his shock, Pei didn't want to give away his cover. He wasn't completely sure if the server in front of him was Ayn, but those eyes told him the truth. No one in the whole universe has Ayn's eyes! He told himself.

  Trying his best to keep cool, Pei smiled at Ayn, then said, “It's alright, my dear. I don't care much about these boots anyway. They were in great need of replacing, but I had been too lazy to get new ones. You actually did me a favor, for now I have no choice but to purchase new ones. No harm done.”

  Pei reached down and helped Ayn pick up the pitcher. He did this mostly to see the server's eyes more closely. Oh, heavens! It IS Ayn! Pei silently hollered. My Gods, you saved him! My glorious Gods, thank you!

  After helping Ayn to his feet, Pei was determined to get him out of there, and quickly. Looking at Hynfir, he nodded, as if to signal that their plan needed to kick into gear.

  “So...” Hynfir said to Seith, “are all your slaves treated this well or is it just when they spill something that you reward them with harsh threats?” Seith was a bit speechless, which allowed Hynfir to continue. “You realize, Governor, that The Tah are strictly against slavery, and that we only turn a blind eye to you owning slaves because you have always claimed you treat yours so well. Is this actually untrue?”

  “No!” shouted Seith. “I treat my slaves wonderfully! Just ask Thotwa here, my head slave!” Thotwa was nearby and half-bowed as his name was mentioned. “I treat my well-behaved slaves very well indeed! Only the problem ones must I discipline. You see, Lord Astire, it is like with a child. You must give them strict rules or they will take advantage of you. I am like their father, and I need to act accordingly. We are a family here at my mansion, I assure you.”