The Riddle of the Gods

by Lyra Shanti

  Mother? he asked in his mind. She did not answer him though. A moment later, the image vanished.

  Opening his eyes, Ayn felt confused and disoriented. It was an instinct, telling him she was no longer in his vision because she was actually there. Not knowing if it was merely his imagination, Ayn felt a presence nearby, and it wanted him to head for the river.

  Getting up, Ayn couldn’t keep his feet from walking to the river to see if it was truly his mother's soul.

  For a few moments, he stood at the river’s edge, simply watching its rippled, muted glow in the moonlight.

  As he stood silent, he suddenly broke down in tears.

  He bent down and cried a deep, guttural cry of loss. He couldn't believe how empty he felt, and how disillusioned. Why couldn't he stop it? Why couldn't he figure out how to end the sickness? Was he actually not Adin, or was the supposed “Great” Adin nothing but a weak man with the same empty, confused aching now inside him?

  Ayn felt the sting of his tears pouring down his face. It was as if he never cried before, and yet, he had cried many times, especially as a child. Somehow, these were tears he'd never let go of before. They were coming from the depth of his soul and made him feel as though he were dying a slow, agonizing death.

  Death... sickness... slowly... like his mother had died.

  “Oh, Mother,” Ayn muttered through tears. “Please, Mother... Queen Amya... Please, speak to me.”

  The wind blew across his face, blowing his long, sleek, black hair wildly to the side of his shoulders. He could feel a presence approaching him, but he dared not allow himself to believe the energy he felt was indeed his beloved mother. He could only assume it was nature itself - the wind instinctively answering his own yearning for truth.

  Yet... as the wind blew through the swaying holy tree in the garden, Ayn felt something so familiar: a distinct presence with a gentle, warm, and resonant beauty.

  “Mother? Is that you?”

  The wind blew harder as Ayn's heart swelled with hope, momentarily quelling his sadness. He stood up and looked around. However, he could only hear and see the wind and trees, nothing more.

  Then, Ayn remembered Meddhi-Lan's teachings. He closed his eyes, knowing he needed to focus, allowing himself to really listen with his entire soul open, so he may truly hear all in existence, even to what is normally unseen and unheard.

  “Mother? Are you there?”

  Listening carefully with his heart and not his head, Ayn heard a voice lingering in the wind.

  “My son... my beloved boy.”

  “Mother?!” gasped Ayn.

  “Yes, my sweet Ayn, I'm here.”

  He opened his eyes and saw the spirit of his beloved mother, Queen Amya, glistening in front of him, like the morning dew upon the ona pedals at sunrise.

  Falling to his knees in emotional shock, Ayn shed uncontrollable tears. Unable to stop his vulnerable, near desperate need for her, he wept and clutched the grassy ground with his hands. Pawing at the grass as if it were parts of his heart he had forgotten, he wept until the pain finally let up enough for him to breathe.

  “Oh, Mother,” he said, quivering as he looked up, “you’re really here, aren’t you?”

  She smiled sadly, then reached for his face. “Yes, my sweet Ayn. I’ve always been here with you. I cannot move through the physical world like I used to, but I am here nonetheless. Can you not feel me?”

  Ayn shook his head, holding back more tears. “I can only sense you here and there, at times when I am most open to my soul. But… I never know if I am dreaming or if you are truly with me.”

  She cupped his face with her glowing hand and said, “Can you feel me with you now?”

  He tried to touch her hand with his, but felt no physical warmth. He did, however, feel her in his heart.

  “Yes, I know you're with me, Mother, but… it’s not the same as when you were alive and able to hold me.”

  “I can no longer hold you in my arms, that is true,” she softly replied, “but I am with you nonetheless. I have always been with you, Ayn, and doing what I can to help you remain strong and keep you surrounded in love. I promise, my beautiful boy, I will never leave you.”

  Gulping, Ayn nodded, trying his best not to cry. He wanted to believe her words, though he found it difficult.

  “Mother…”

  “Yes, my beloved boy?”

  “I have so many questions.”

  “I know you do, and I will try my best to answer them.”

  He took a deep breath, then asked, “Why did you have to physically die? Why does anyone have to die like that? Why is sickness still so prevalent in the world when so many advances are made in science and technology? Why is plasma trying to eat itself, like a snake with its own tail?”

  Unable to stop himself from pouring out his racing thoughts, he added, “Oh Mother, I had the worst nightmare! My wife was dying, and there was nothing I could do! It was just like how I felt with you, but worse because I couldn’t even touch her. Someone had quarantined her away from me. I couldn’t even hold her! Mother, is this nightmare a vision or just my fears? Do you know the future? Is Zin right? Will sickness and death come to us all?”

  “Oh, my son, you weigh everything on your shoulders as if every bit of the universe is your responsibility.”

  “Isn’t it?!” he blurted.

  “No, Ayn, it’s not. You see, the universe is so vast and powerful, you are but one fragment in a giant puzzle of chaos. And as much as you want to fix its calamity, you cannot do so, and never will be able.”

  “But… aren’t I The Bodanya? Am I not the one to balance the paradox, like the priests said I would?”

  “My son…” she said with a loving smile, “you are simply you. The title of Bodanya is anything you wish it to mean. If you want to understand the universe, then you only have to look into the great cosmos of stars, planets, and swirling plasma to see it is already balanced. It does not need you to change or correct it the way the priests suggested you must. All you need to do is accept and love it for what it is. Your true power, my dearest son, is to love and enlighten, that is all.”

  “But… what does such enlightenment mean, Mother? I see sickness spreading everywhere. As I passed by the town to the palace, I saw poverty - some had Undaniasis - but they couldn’t afford to get medical help. I know I can help them at least get treatment, but I am fighting a disease which makes no sense! Even the leading doctor on my planet has no idea how to stop plasma from eating our bodies. Is there no cure? Are you saying I should just let it happen? Isn’t there a way to stop it?!”

  Sighing, she slowly shook her head. “No, Ayn, you misunderstand me. I am not saying you shouldn’t try your best to find a cure, or to stop the illness, for it is indeed out of control and needs to be understood. However, you cannot stop illnesses everywhere, nor can you change the very core of the universe. That is a cycle inside your mind which needs to cease, or I fear you will hurt yourself further.”

  “What do you mean, Mother? What cycle are you talking about?”

  “When you were only a child, the priests sedimented into your mind the universe was imperfect and unbalanced, and one day, you alone would find the reason why, and cure it - like a doctor would with an infection. But nothing in the universe works that way. There is no paradox or illness you need to heal, for the universe is constantly healing itself and doesn’t require you to fix or control it. That is what the priests never understood, and they should not have placed such a heavy burden upon your shoulders.

  “I should have stopped their teachings when I was alive. I should have fought against them harder, but your father was difficult to fight. He believed so strongly you were their savior, and he was so proud of you. I was as well, but… I knew the universe did not need a savior. It needs a guide, yes, and that is what you are. My wonderful boy, you are the great inspirer - the bringer of light and truth! And plasma runs through your open soul like a river of songs, full of love and hope. That is why y
ou will be able to balance this world, but it will be through the hearts and minds of the people, not the core of the universe, which does not need balancing.”

  Confused, Ayn rubbed his head and looked around at the river and the swaying trees in the night.

  “Mother, what are you saying exactly? Do you mean to say that plasma sickness is natural and a normal part of the universe?”

  “No, plasma sickness is an illness, running rampant because of people’s greed for energy and power. It has grown out of control, and now, the sickness has turned into an epidemic that needs to be cured. And you will, Ayn. With help from others, you will find a way. I know you will.”

  “Then… why are you saying I cannot balance the universe?”

  “Ayn, my beloved boy, look at the stars. Take a good look at the universe. Do you see its vast, impossible beauty? Can you see even further into the billions of particles of light and even more billions upon trillions of waves of plasma?”

  Looking into the night sky, Ayn squinted and saw what his mother saw: all the stars and planets and galaxies, still unknown to him, and the endless energy, coursing through like an ocean of invisible dreams.

  “I see it, Mother,” he whispered, smiling through his tears. “It’s so beautiful, but…”

  “But?”

  “It’s so broken and full of extremes! Why can’t it be like a calm ocean? Why must it create black holes and dark spaces full of death and chaos?”

  Out of the night, came a familiar and deeply resonant voice. “Because it is like Sarax in that way,” said Raxas’ spirit which flew down to stand by Amya at the river’s edge. He was in Sirini form, though he had large, gold and red wings, and his presence was unmistakably big and proud.

  “If you think about it,” he continued, “the universe is always correcting itself because it knows what it needs before any of its physical beings know, and it changes and bends as necessary. Like a Sarax, the universe must do what it must. Sometimes, to balance the negativity or pressure, it creates a storm or swallows its own weakness. This is very common and quite natural, and it is not a paradox, but a constant cycle of self preservation. The cycle of life and death and rebirth is as old as time… and it must always be for us to exist. Do you understand, Ayn?”

  “Sort of…” Ayn replied, melancholy.

  “But this knowledge, you already felt to be true. You want to change it, but you can’t. This, you know.”

  “Yes… but…”

  “Ayn,” said Amya, “what Raxas tells you is true. Why do you fight against the truth?”

  “Because I’m afraid!” he snapped.

  “Afraid of what, my son?” she asked tenderly.

  “Of my own death! Of death itself! And I am afraid that if the extreme behaviors of both the universe and within people’s hearts is allowed to continue, it will be a constant battle of pain and darkness! All this evil and greed, and for what? Why must the darkness be allowed to exist in the first place?!”

  Sighing, Raxas placed his spirit-hand on Ayn’s shoulder and said, “You are forgetting something, my old friend. You must try to remember what I once taught you… a long time ago.”

  Trying his best to recall, Ayn asked, “I'm sorry, I don't remember. Will you tell me now?”

  “I will remind you of what you already know. Ayn, the darkness is a necessary element of energy, and all life. It is the core of the universe, and without it, there is so light, and no creation. In truth, the darkness is not darkness at all, but more of a deep, dense, building block of time and space.”

  “What?” asked Ayn, his mind feeling riddled.

  Smiling, Raxas continued, “Ayn… think back. Think to when we had this conversation in my previous life.”

  “Which life? I don’t remember. Please remind me once again, Raxas.”

  “When I was much younger, I told Adin about the darkness and why it is needed for life to grow. We were together on Sirin when you reached this enlightenment. Do you remember?”

  Pushing back his memory, Ayn began to visualize Adin, standing on the holy mountain on Sirin, looking at the stars and talking about time and space with a red-colored Sarax.

  “Yes…” said Ayn with his eyes closed, “I remember now. You were telling me how the plasma flows and how the river of time is like a reflecting ocean of life and death. It’s vague now though. It’s been so long.”

  “It hasn’t been that long to me,” grinned Raxas, “but I am not bound by time like you.”

  “Were you Siya?”

  “No,” said Raxas, “I was her twin brother. But I was there with Adin when he found enlightenment.”

  Ayn nodded, then opened his eyes and said, “Yes, I remember you talking about the depth of plasma. You told me the darkness is not really dark. You said it only appears as such, but is actually more like a feeling of emotion. You told me to think of the darkness as a painful love, and not to fear it too much because it is natural, as natural as emotion is to our hearts.”

  “Yes!” Raxas said with glee. “Now, do you remember what I told you about fear?”

  Closing his eyes again, Ayn said, “Yes… you said fear is necessary. You said we fear so we may question our reality, and learn from doing so. And through these questions, we are able to make brave choices and further the evolution of beings everywhere.”

  “Yes, Ayn, you indeed remember my lessons. This makes me happier than I can say.”

  “But…” said Ayn, “fear is so difficult to embrace and control! When I was at my most fearful, Adin’s rage took me over, and I killed with my soul’s plasma! I don’t ever want to do that again! I’m not a warrior, Raxas. I hate war! I wasn’t meant for killing. I was meant for teaching. Isn’t that who I truly am? Wasn’t Adin a teacher? Did he not end his life with wisdom and grace? Why have I reverted backwards like this? Why does Adin seem to hold onto his anger so much? Is it my fault? Am I failing?”

  “No, Ayn,” said Raxas sternly, “you are merely releasing your past anger, which is the only way one can truly move with the universe and grow as a person. Adin made the mistake of believing he could suppress his rage and fear. He thought wisdom came in silent meditation alone, but without expression of your feelings, you cannot grow. If you silence your fears, instead of releasing them, you become victim to violence. You are now beginning to understand that, and you are moving forward, not backward.”

  “But… Meddhi had to stop me, or I would have been swallowed up by that rage. Why am I like this? Was Adin truly that angry?”

  “He was murdered, Ayn, so... yes, he was very angry. He had tried to change the world with a new way of thinking. In the end, he felt grateful to be with his wife, but he had changed. He had bottled his anger and became a warrior.”

  “So, his Viha is now filled with suppressed rage?” asked Ayn nervously.

  “Yes, and no. His Viha is also filled with your healing power. You are the one who put it there, Ayn, so it is now a healing sword.”

  “I did? I thought Adin must have used it for healing.”

  “No, he never realized its capacity for such things.”

  “So, I am making progress?”

  Raxas laughed heartily and said, “Oh, Ayn… you are well on your way to becoming almost as great as I!”

  Smiling wide, Raxas winked at Ayn, then extended his giant red and gold wings. Lifting off the ground, he exclaimed, “Keep embracing your fears as if they are merely questions which can always be answered, and continue to remember your true self… and you will be free, Ayn! You will set the world free with your truths! You will balance their hearts and minds through songs and stories and proclamations. And you will become The Bodanya in the way you were meant to be! Where Adin once tried, you will succeed!”

  Ayn watched as Raxas floated upward into the sky. His burning presence appeared like a star and made Ayn feel happy and sad, all at once.

  “Mother?” said Ayn as he turned to face her.

  “Yes, my beloved boy?”

  “Do you beli
eve I can help people balance their own hearts?”

  “Oh, Ayn…” she said with a loving smile, “I have always believed in you. I am constantly amazed at your heart and courageous soul. I know Raxas spoke the truth, for you will teach others and help them understand. They will not at first, but in time, they will grow to accept the universe for what it truly is, and they will learn to fear it less and less.”

  “And what about Plasma Sickness? Must I accept that too? If the paradox of the universe is indeed natural, I will try to embrace it and learn more about its nature, so I may flow with it, instead of against. But if I can’t change the core of the universe, can I at least change the illness threatening those I love?”

  “Ayn, you must try to change what you can, but accept what you cannot. Everything in life does that for its own survival. It is natural to want to live and thrive. But remember, you are not alone. Nor is it all up to you to heal everyone. There are others who can, and will, help you. Your wife - my niece - for example; she is here to help and guide you. She is your light, and she will light your way, if you let her.”

  “Yes, Mother, I will. I don’t know how she could help me find a cure for Undaniasis, but…”

  “She is more gifted than you know,” Amya said with a smile. “Give her time to remember her talents. She will help you… and so will your doctor, and your sister, and your dearest friends. Everyone who loves you will help, Ayn. You will never be alone. Of this, I have the utmost faith.”

  “Oh, Mother!” yelped Ayn as he grabbed for her spirit, wishing he could hold her in his arms. “Will you always be with me? Do you promise?”

  “Of course,” she said with a calming smile, “though you must try to remember I am here. Feel my presence, and I will always be with you.”

  “Yes, Mother, I will try to get over your death and remember you are still with me, if only in spirit.”

  “But my spirit is what truly matters. Isn’t that the truth?”

  Ayn nodded, then flashed to his childhood. “I think you said something similar the day you died. You told me your spirit is what mattered, and I should always feel you with me.”