DreamStar: In Delphi - Duty Meets Destiny (The Delphi Countdown Trilogy Book 2)

by JB Penrose

Rachel laughed with a bit of uncertainty and stepped back on to the vela headed for Tiphereth. Fairidai stepped on behind her bouncing with anticipation.

  Along the way, Fairidai seemed to grow inches in stature. Every time she passed someone, her redhead bobbed with importance in accompanying the Spokesmon to her destination. Rachel got the impression she was passing the threshold between older child to young woman; a trying time in Rachel’s own life. Fairidai was one they should take seriously; Rachel was sure there was a special part she would play in Delphi’s history.

  “Oh glory! Maybe we’ll see a cat on the way.” Fairidai bounced with excitement as they descended to the lower levels.

  “Do you have cats in here?” Rachel hadn’t seen any signs of animals or insects.

  “Sure, but no one’s ever been able to catch one. They run from us. They are quite a help around the corridors though, keeping the varmints out. And they have the most beautiful luminous yellow eyes.”

  “I had a friend with a beautiful cat, Honey. She had yellow eyes, too.”

  “I’ve never pet one but I’ve seen them in the higher levels.”

  “Does Mother Star live on the higher level?” Rachel wondered.

  “Mother Star doesn’t have living quarters,” Fairidai stated confidently and kept walking. “She’s an angel.”

  “Yes, but how do you get in contact with her?”

  Fairidai shrugged. “She always comes to me. When I have nightmares, she comes into my dreams and makes them alright.”

  “What kind of nightmares do you have?” Rachel wondered if the young girl shared the same nightmare as she and Sora.

  “I’m always locked inside a rock, like being a part of it. Mother Star comes to free me.” Fairidai stopped walking and Rachel almost ran into her. “You’re claustrophobic, too!”

  “Well yes, but not in here,” Rachel admitted.

  “Of course not in here,” Fairidai told her. “There’s ways to get out of Delphi. Try getting out of the middle of a rock!” She started hiking again, and then turned around with a very serious expression. “Please, Spokesmon. I apologize, that I knew you were claustrophobic.”

  “Why are you apologizing again? I can’t be mad at you.”

  “I didn’t mean to intrude on your thoughts. I just knew you were like me. And, I tend to say things without thinking first. That’s why they told me not to talk to you.”

  “You can always talk to me. Anyone can. Be sure to tell them I said it’s alright.”

  Suddenly Rachel felt more separated than she ever had in her life. She knew being the Spokesmon automatically set her apart. Now, and here in Delphi, it was time to become a part of something. Her heart had expanded to include every facet of Delphi and there was nothing she could do stop it. She wanted to thank somebody – but could not bring herself to name Iscar.

  The activity in the cavern was well organized. Everyone nodded as they passed her, some spoke a greeting but all were cautious of the extent they allowed their emotions or thoughts to reach Rachel.

  Each level of Delphi had a representation of all the Trades, but the concentrated section of educational and medical caverns was several levels lower than her quarters. It was a busy section of the city; the residential quarters were closely hewed into the mountain and the activity was joyfully being accomplished.

  Rachel walked among them, greeting everyone by name. It was like a busy street in any city but this one was full of friends. Her heart was as jubilant as their attitudes.

  She stopped in front of a large opening and announced to Fairidai, “The Master Healer is here.”

  Fairidai nodded. “I think he’s expecting you.” The redhead was bouncing on her toes. “I’d better go now. Mother would like my help with something.”

  “Yes, I heard her, too.” Rachel hugged Fairidai tightly. “The Tribe is beginning to gather. Thank you for walking with me. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “You didn’t need any help but I was glad to be of company. I’ll see you at the banquet; the Tribe has something special planned.” Fairidai skipped off through the crowd now gathering a respectful distance from Rachel.

  Rachel waved, partially to the redhead bobbing away and partially to the citizens stopped to watch her, assuring everyone she was fine and not seeing the Master Healer for a health concern. She turned to enter the healer’s office, certain, as Fairidai told her – he was expecting her.

  The atmosphere inside was quiet and completely shielded from the outside commotion. Chimes whispered quiet melodies from unfelt breezes, and incense lingered in the air with a calming scent. There was a tray of coffee on a table and Aaron offered her a cup upon entry, which Rachel accepted gratefully. He steered her toward a pair of chairs and waited to sit until she did so.

  “Welcome, Spokesmon. To what do I owe this visit?” he asked casually. “Is this an inspection of Delphi’s medical facilities?”

  “No, no of course not.” Rachel’s laugh joined his own jovial response. “I’m sure they are state-of-the-art as far as medicine goes. Maybe I just needed another great cup of coffee.”

  “Now that Mother Star has informed everyone of your choice of drink you’ll find coffee stocked in everyone’s cabinet.” He raised his cup in salute. “I hope you won’t be offended by my personal choice of tea.”

  “On the contrary, I salute your commitment to not follow the crowd.” She settled into a more serious mood. “I dropped by for a bit of conversation about tonight. I understand you were the last Arrival in Delphi and I thought your perspective on the celebration might help me prepare for the festivities.”

  Rachel was aware of his focused gaze and she dropped her eyes, slightly embarrassed by the concentration she felt.

  “I’m sorry to stare,” he apologized immediately. Setting his cup gently on the table he tilted his head and looked at her closely. “I get the feeling we share something but I can’t identify just what that could be. You’ve seemed familiar to me since your Arrival.”

  “That seems like such a long time ago, now. I can’t even measure it without day and night or clocks of any time.”

  “Yes, timelessness does take some getting used to,” Aaron agreed. “I wouldn’t know how to count the years I’ve been here; time seems to stop after One arrives in Delphi.”

  “Not the Arrival I’m sure everyone expected from the Spokesmon. I hope you realized I wasn’t in need of medical assistance then – I was just a bit overwhelmed.”

  “After centuries, decades, or just years of preparation for some, the Spokesmon’s Arrival was just as overwhelming for us. It was the culmination of everything we’ve worked for, and now we’re preparing for the next phase. You, on the other hand, apparently did not have the same preparation. It seemed Delphi was quite a surprise.”

  “You’re right.” Rachel sat back, comfortable with his understanding. “I see your medical training extends beyond the physical anatomy into psychological situations as well. No wonder you are considered the Master Healer.”

  “I admit my training was unique, but it was not the formal education you might have expected.” The Master Healer rose, but continued to stare at her in a very curious way. He walked slowly to a bookcase and taking a last glance over his shoulder to confirm something in his thoughts, he rummaged in a drawer for a specific item and returned to his seat with a tubular leather case. Gently, he pulled out a rolled parchment.

  Even without seeing the contents Rachel’s heart pumped faster; she recognized a Kerroon drawing before he showed it to her. She sat in shaky silence as he slowly unrolled the drawing and studied it closely.

  Peter’s artwork is one of the things that drew them together. Rachel had traced his paintings through history – an artist’s style that could not be mistaken for that of any other. From his portrait of Sun Lui, the woman she called Mother and he called lover, to the drawings Peter carried of Rachel and her real mother, Dayln, his artwork was the final confirmation of who she was – the lost daughter of Mary Magdalene.
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  Aaron had a sketch of her parents in his hand and he looked at Rachel with vague recognition.

  “Where did you get that?” The question might have sounded like a demand except that her volume was barely more than a whisper.

  Aaron held it higher and compared the image to Rachel’s likeness. “I knew you looked familiar. It’s an uncanny likeness.”

  “Yes, I know. Where did you get that drawing? It’s a Kerroon, isn’t it?” She reached for the parchment with a trembling hand. Having any connection to Peter or to her parents made the separation real and even more painful.

  “You know his art? This one was a gift given at my graduation. Such a long time ago – I don’t even want to guess. It’s really uncanny how you look like her.”

  “Aaron, it’s not a coincidence.” Rachel let her hands drop to her lap gently clutching the picture. She let her words sink in to Aaron’s thoughts. “She’s my mother.”

  Aaron had been looking at the picture she now held, but at the announcement his eyes raised to meet hers and they filled with tears. He dropped instantly to his knees and reached for her hand. “Of course,” he whispered. “The Spokesmon is Mother’s lost daughter. Now I know why I am here. I am here to serve.”

  Rachel hugged him tightly and urged him into his seat. “Please. I don’t need a show of devotion to believe in your service. I’m just thrilled to know someone who knew my family.” She smiled. “How in the world did you end up in Delphi?”

  “My dreams led me here,” he confessed. “Just like everyone else; the Oracle has brought all of us here. It’s really something special to be a part of Delphi.”

  After her experience with the dreamstone tonight, Rachel recognized the touch of the Oracle in everyone’s countenance. It had a pulse of life that reverberated through the city. She was beginning to understand the connection was a thread of Light that wove Delphi’s citizens into a garment.

  “Are there other students of Mother’s here?”

  “No, I’m the only one that I know of.” Aaron sat back breathless, but not releasing her hands. “Oh my, you are such a legend in so many ways. I don’t know where to start with my questions.”

  “Nor mine,” she laughed. “But it’s nice to have some family here in Delphi.”

  “Your parents have searched for you for centuries,” Aaron sat back in his chair. “Wait until she discovers you’re the Spokesmon.”

  “She knows,” Rachel said to Aaron’s surprise.

  “Of course she would. I’ve been gone longer than I can count. So much must have happened in the world since I’ve arrived here in Delphi.” Aaron could not stop staring at Rachel. “This is truly an amazing moment.”

  Rachel opened the rolled parchment and looked again at her parents. “There have been some strange things happening in the world,” she agreed. “What does Delphi say of the DayStar?”

  “Is that what they call it – the DayStar?” The blank look on his face was confirmation of Delphi’s removal from the rest of the world’s activities. “We don’t keep up on the news of the outside world. By the time we’ve heard about a story, it has already passed.”

  “Not this one, Aaron. The DayStar was the reason the Aurora launched.”

  “We knew of the Aurora’s launch,” he stated proudly. “It was part of the timing that brought you to Delphi.”

  “Oh dear. There’s so much that Delphi needs to understand.” Would knowing the truth of how she was brought to Delphi rip apart the heart of the city, or would they support the Septorian in any way just because he had fulfilled the prophecy?

  Suddenly, time was closing in on her. She felt the impending celebration of her Arrival, the pressure of Peter’s arrival, and the ultimate confrontation with Iscar. She wondered how many in Delphi would follow her wishes if they conflicted with Iscar’s plans.

  “Is there a council for Delphi? A group of leaders that run things here? Who does everyone turn to when Iscar is gone?”

  “There is a council,” Aaron told her. “The trades have Ministers and Counselors that meet regularly and coordinate their plans, but there’s not much in the way of actual leadership. The Oracle has instilled a sense of purpose for each of us, which pretty much sets the tone of the day. There’s no crime, no real problems that require leadership. The Septorian’s role is more of constancy than leadership. Leadership, I supposed, is yours to assume, Spokesmon.”

  “That remains to be seen,” she admitted quietly. “The Spokesmon has a destiny but it’s one I always thought I would have to complete by myself.”

  Aaron’s face was full of concern and his hands held hers in a fatherly clasp. “Spokesmon, you have never been alone; Delphi has been waiting for your command before you knew of its existence and we will be ready to act as you decree.”

  “Oh, Aaron! It’s not always as easy as it sounds, but I do feel the love of Delphi in my heart. It is comforting to know that I have family ties here as well. Mother would be happy to know you are here with me.”

  “She might not think as highly of me knowing I was part of something Iscar was building. I, myself, didn’t know of the Septorian’s identity until long after my arrival. Only that I was raised by your parents would I have known of that connection, but my service to the Spokesmon and devotion to the Oracle balanced any concern there might be for working with Iscar. You can trust that I would never work against you, or Mother.”

  “She will understand, just as I do. No one questions your loyalty, least of all me.” Rachel stood. “Thank you for talking with me today, I feel much better - and very much at home here in Delphi.”

  “All of Delphi is loyal to the Spokesmon,” he assured her. “You’ll see that tonight,” he promised.

  “Yes, I have a sense of impending readiness. I still have no idea what to expect, or even what to wear!” She laughed at the human thought of fashion at a moment when the Spokesmon would be celebrating her Arrival.

  “Tonight, you should expect the celebration of a lifetime,” he assured her. “And for something to wear – you might want to drop by the tailor’s.”

  Rachel was a blend of emotions when she left the Master Healer’s quarters. Once again, the past had interjected into her present. She always believed there were reasons for connections – any connection. Connections led her to Peter and then to her parents. It was comforting in some ways to know that not all Delphians were in Iscar’s service.

  Now Rachel better understood how the Oracle orchestrated the people who were drawn to Delphi. Had she not experienced that rapture for herself she might have thought Iscar was behind the mesmerism that held everyone in Delphi. Although she didn’t believe Iscar’s power built this city, she couldn’t explain the reverence it seemed the citizens held for him. Although Rachel respected Delphi for its accomplishments and way of living, she was beginning to get an uneasy feeling that Utopia was about to be challenged.

  “Spokesmon?”

  Rachel heard someone call her name and she shook her head to bring back her senses. Looking around her confirmed she was on a lower level than the Master Healer’s office; it was darker and slightly less populated, but the noise had a rhythm and clap, which surprised her even more.

  “Spokesmon? Are you alright?”

  Rachel understood that her feet led her to a place she needed to be, but now she needed to understand why.

  “Sora?” It was the first time she greeted a Delphian without knowing if she called them by the right name.

  “I am Sorath,” the older woman corrected her. “Sora was my grandmother many generations past.

  “Yes, of course.” Rachel released her pent breath and smiled. “I see the difference now,” she added.

  Sorath looked a little confused, and then beamed a wide smile. “I can’t believe you’re really here even though I’ve always known this moment would arrive.” She put her hand to her hair unconsciously and smoothed back the loose strands. “Please come in, Spokesmon,” she beckoned Rachel inside. “I have everything ready
for you.”

  Rachel stepped into the quarters, unsure if she was in Sorath’s residence or business. The stone walls insulated her from the rhythm and clap that she now recognized as weaving looms at work. There was no doubt Sorath was a tailor. Her room was full of vintage wire mannequins draped with clothing at every stage of completion; Rachel had the feeling Sorath spoke to them like close friends.

  Sorath emptied a chair of cloth cuttings and bid Rachel to take a seat.

  “Are you Mother to Gabriel and Gideon?” Rachel wanted to confirm her suspicions.

  “Yes,” Sorath agreed with a laugh. “From mother to daughter we are easily identified, and the boys have also shared the same traits.”

  Rachel recalled the long dark hair and sharp features on Gabriel. His face had a look of rapture even as he wrestled with Peter to prevent her departure with Iscar. The look on Gideon’s face as she recalled from her earlier conversation was more a sense of duty; Rachel thought of all the Delphians Gideon was first loyal to Iscar.

  Sorath had both expressions on her face, duty and destiny. Never taking her eyes off the Spokesmon, she opened the drawer of a close hutch and removed a folded paper package. She brought it to the seat next to Rachel and sat, almost kneeling.

  “After the birth of the first sons to our family line I learned it would be my destiny to fulfill this dream.” She placed the package in Rachel’s lap and folded back the paper. “I’m so pleased to present this gift to the Spokesmon.”

  “Sorath! How beautiful. What kind of material is this?” Rachel gingerly fingered the sparkling cloth. Just the shine of it lit the room in a soft glow. It was supple to the touch but lighter than any silk produced. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Sorath lifted it gently and draped it across Rachel’s shoulders. “I’ve never shown this to anyone; not even my sons. I’m not sure I could explain it, but I know that you will understand.” Sorath sat back in her chair. “I discovered I was pregnant on the same day I learned the boys’ father had been killed in an outer-world skirmish. The mesh of joy and sorrow ripped me apart.” She looked at Rachel for understanding, not sympathy. “Our family has always been dedicated to serving the Spokesmon; even Joaquin’s death was to protect Delphi. I prayed constantly that my child would know such honor and continue the tradition.”