It was only then that Thalassino realized what was happening. “Keiran — no!” he shouted. He ran toward the Red chrome.
Keiran heard Thalassino call his name at about the same time he felt dozens of small stings pierce his flesh. His pleasure immediately twisted into a surge of the most intense pain he’d ever experienced in his entire life! He could no longer see or move. He felt like the giant statue of Adio at the entrance of Samaris. And like that great edifice, he felt cracks spread throughout his body as if he were crumbling into many pieces.
45. Found
The sun was now high up in the sky and Chtomio felt a great sense of relief. The other cadets would have all completed their bloody task and they would no longer attack any Janis. Adina was safe. By walking incessantly all night and all morning, they had put a lot of distance between themselves and Samaris, but his father would no doubt be so enraged, he’d think nothing of sending half his army in search of his traitorous son. And he still didn’t even know where they were. Were they in the Orange territory? Or where they still in the Red Kingdom? Fight less and study more, had been one of his tutor’s admonishments, and now he was beginning to understand why. Belatedly, he’d come to suspect that cunning and knowledge trumped brute force every time. Chtomio vowed that if he ever became king, he would remember this life lesson. But right now, he was hungry.
He glanced at Adina, who trembled, still cold from the night passed marching incessantly and from the gusty wind that had picked up since early morning. He had decided to part with her with the new sunrise but her conditions seemed to have worsened and he just couldn’t leave her like that. Adina, moreover, did not seem so eager to let him go any longer.
“We’re safe now. We can stop and rest,” he said. “I’ll light up a fire…” he added, “And see if I can find some food.” Adina sat on the ground and said nothing.
Chtomio quickly gathered dry roots, kindling and tinder and then he used the flint he always carried with him to create sparks. The fire caught the dry wood and they had a good blaze going, immediately. Well, here’s something I’m good at, he thought. They both huddled near it. Although Chtomio felt its warmth, he could see Adina was still cold. He removed his mantle and draped it over her shoulders. She took it without saying anything. She seemed to be half asleep.
“Adina, are you alright?”
She didn’t answer.
He came closer to her and gently removed her mask. She had her eyes closed and Chtomio saw that her forehead was beaded with sweat. Suddenly, he saw four wagons in the distance. At first, he thought it might be Red soldiers looking for him, but they would never come with wagons. Then, as they approached, accompanied by the dull thud of oxen hooves on the ground, Chtomio realized that they weren’t Red chromes at all.
“Whoa,” said Yit, tugging his reins to stop his oxen. “Greetings chrome! We come in peace.”
“Greetings…” replied Chtomio, still surprised to see foreign chromes.
Yit dismounted and said: “Cold wind, eh? Your lady might need more blankets.”
Chtomio, confused, turned toward Adina and said: “What lady?” Then, realizing, he blushed, “Oh no, she’s not my lady, we… uh…”
“Well, whoever she is, it looks like she may need help. Can’t you see she’s trembling?” Yit asked. He jumped down from his wagon and moved closer to the fire to examine Adina.
“I know that! That’s why I lit the fire!” snapped Chtomio. But Yit wasn’t paying attention to him any longer.
“Vorym! Ar!” he shouted and two female chromes appeared from another wagon.
“This female is expecting,” Yit told them, “and judging from her size, she will give birth to an infant very soon.”
The two female chromes nodded. They carefully lifted Adina and helped her into their wagon.
“Wait!” cried Chtomio, “Where are you taking her?”
“To a warmer place, for starters,” replied Uit. “We Violets know how to take care of a chrome who is expecting.”
“Violets?” said Chtomio. “You mean, we are in Violet territory?”
“Of course not,” said Yit, “This is Orange territory. We are just passing through. Who are you?”
“I’m Chtomio, Pr-” Chtomio bit his lip before finishing his sentence. Prudence whispered to him that he should hold off saying his name and revealing his noble origin. Or was it simply that he didn’t want anyone to learn that the great prince of Samaris had lost himself like an infant?
“Well, Chtomio-Pr, it seems like our wagons are turning into an infirmary on wheels because besides your female friend, we have another chrome who’s been taken ill. May I ask what it is that you are doing here? Have you lost your way?”
That was too much for Chtomio to bear. “I am not lost!” He stated firmly.
“Yit! What’s wrong?” It was Thalassino’s voice.
“Nothing!” he answered. “I’m just talking with yet another chrome who seems to have lost himself.” Then, turning back to Chtomio, he added: “What is it with you Reds and orientation?”
The young royal couldn’t resist: “The name is Chtomio. I am the Prince of the Reds, Violet chrome, so show some respect!” He blurted.
“Ooh, the Prince of the Reds! Here, in the middle of nowhere?” mocked Yit. “Of course! I should have known better! What a great honor, Your Majesty.” Yit made an exaggerated bow.
“Do not make a fool of me.” hissed Chtomio, “I really am the Prince of the Reds.”
“Well then, prove it!” said Thalassino approaching the two.
Chtomio showed the two Violets his left shoulder which now bore the mark of the Ashi.
“This,” he said, “is the mark of the-”
“Of the Ashi caste,” said Thalassino. “Yes, we know all about it. As a matter of fact, we have another Red Ashi here with us. He has been poisoned and-”
“Poisoned? By who? Who is this Ashi?”
“His name is Keiran…”
“Keiran is here?”
“You know him?”
“He is my friend! Take me to him at once!” Chtomio bit his lip, then said: “Please.”
Thalassino told Chtomio all about Keiran’s encounter with the butterflies as they entered his wagon. Violet chromes collected them for their poison. Chtomio remembered that it was a Violet tradition to inject their infants with the poison to alter their appearances. Their facial features would take on the look of a butterfly’s as they matured, which the Violets considered to be a transformative manifestation of great beauty. But this was normally a slow process. Keiran had been stung by many, which might prove deadly. Thalassino was treating him, but he could not be certain if Keiran would survive.
Chtomio was shocked to find his friend sprawled inside a giant cocoon, unconscious. His entire body was swollen; his skin bluish.
“Keiran, for the mercy of the gods!” exclaimed Chtomio.
“He is in pain but the worst has passed. I have never seen a non-Violet make it through the first stage of a butterfly attack,” said Thalassino.
Chtomio noticed something even more horrifying on Keiran. Near his wrists two protuberances had formed making his friend look like he had six fingers on each hand.
“What… What are these?” he asked shocked pointing to the hands.
“Side effects of the butterflies’ venom,” replied Thalassino matter-of-factly. “They usually manifest themselves on the face but in his case…”
“Savages, you Violets are savages!” cried out Chtomio. “What kind of chromes would carry such dangerous insects in their wagons?”
Thalassino spoke calmly. “Unlike you, we Violets, do not use weapons to defend ourselves. We brought the butterflies with us as a way to defend our Monarch in case someone ill-intentioned attacked us. These are violent times, unfortunately.”
Chtomio turned back to his friend. “I shouldn’t have let you go, Keiran,” he murmured. Then, to Thalassino, he said: “We need to take him to Samaris. He will be cured there.”
/> “No one can cure him but us, Red prince,” a voice behind them said. Thalassino humbly bowed to his monarch as the ruler entered his house on wheels.
The Violet monarch approached Chtomio. “They tell me you are King Akay’s son. Is that true?”
“It is,” he replied with ill-concealed pride.
“Well then, prince, if you want Keiran to live, he will need to stay with us. We are the only ones who can remove the poison from his veins without killing him.”
“But surely you can all come to Samaris! My father will greet you with hospitality.” Chtomio replied, even though he privately was not at all sure of that.
“I’m afraid that is out of the question. We are going to see the Orange Seer, and nothing must prevent us from reaching our destination.”
Thalassino then whispered something to the Violet monarch which Chtomio couldn’t make out. The Violet leader grunted at first, but then nodded. Thalassino said: “Prince Chtomio, you can stay with your friend if you so wish, for the duration of our journey.”
Chtomio turned this offer over in his mind. Isn’t this what he wanted after all? To leave Samaris, at least for a while? It would be safer for Adina if they remained and it would certainly be better to say that he stayed on to help a friend, rather than confess to his father that he disobeyed the orders of the Red Captain.
“Very well,” he said, “I accept.”
“Splendid,” replied the Violet monarch. “Now, let’s go see how that unfortunate female chrome is faring with her infant.” And having said that, he left.
Thalassino opted to remain behind to continue attending Keiran and, looking at Chtomio, muttered, “It’s my fault. It all happened so fast, I didn’t have the time to warn him about the butterflies.”
Chtomio shook his head. “Just make sure he lives to tell this tale,” he said, “and I will ask the Red gods to help you aide in his recovery.”
The wagons resumed their journey and Chtomio soon felt the fatigue of not having slept for an entire night and for having marched incessantly all the way to the Orange lands. He fell asleep near his friend and did not wake up until the next day.
––—
When Chtomio woke up the following morning, he felt well rested. His thoughts went immediately to his friend, Keiran, who seemed to sleep peacefully. Chtomio noticed that Keiran’s skin color wasn’t as bluish as the day before.
He wanted to stay near his friend but his stomach demanded immediate attention. He realized he had gone without food the whole day before. He was relieved to see that, outside the house on wheels, three Violets were already preparing what seemed to be a hearty breakfast, of honey roasted game bird, dried fruits and… stewed flowers?
He watched the Violets spoon generous portions of the flowers into each plate on a wood table. Ar motioned for Chtomio to come sit with them. The breakfast smelled delicious. Everyone was doing something and they were exchanging kind words as they helped each other. But it was the speed and graceful harmony with which they did everything that captivated him. In a way, they reminded him of worker ants. He smiled as he donned his mask on and came out of the wagon.
The jovial voice of another female Violet chrome immediately greeted him. “Good morning, Prince Chtomio!” She said.
The Violets turned to the Red chrome and greeted him in the same friendly way. “Good morning, Prince Chtomio!”
“Uh, hello,” he said. Thalassino stepped out from behind the royal wagon and said: “The monarch will join us in a moment.” Those words were exactly what Chtomio’s stomach wanted to hear so he immediately sat down and grabbed a drumstick.
“Tell me, are all Red nobles like you? Eating before their hosts have arrived?”
Chtomio turned to see the Monarch facing him. His face reddened and he was glad he had his mask on.
“Er, no, Your Highness. I apologize …I had nothing to eat yesterday.”
“No chrome should have to suffer that!” The Violet monarch chuckled, “might as well begin.”
Chtomio gratefully tucked in and the conversation quickly turned to his adventure of the prior day. But he had prepared for this. He explained to the monarch that he had been hunting when he found a poor female Janis in distress. Realizing that she was about to give birth, he offered to stay with her and help her out.
“And that’s when you came along,” he said, satisfied by his new version of events.
“Do you usually hunt all by yourself, without a horse and without proper weapons?” asked the monarch.
“Yes,” replied Chtomio lying, “it’s a Red tradition.”
“Why don’t you tell him what you and your friends were really hunting?” It was Adina. She had come out of the females’ wagon without her mask. Her face was pale and she looked exhausted. Chtomio’s mantle was still draped around her shoulders and she used it to cover her newborn son.
“Let me get you a mask!” said Thalassino. He quickly procured a lightweight mask of lace and willow wood from the females’ wagon. Against her will, Thalassino finally managed to place the mask on Adina. As he did so, he gazed at the infant and realized he had a large swelling on his throat. Chtomio noticed it too. The newborn had an abnormal lump which deformed his entire neck. “What happened to him?” asked Chtomio worried. Adina was quick to hide her son inside the mantle again. “It is an omen by the gods!” exclaimed Thalassino, “A good omen.”
“No omen is a good omen if you’re a Janis,” Adina muttered.
“Your son will live a long and productive life, I’m sure.” Thalassino reinstated cheerfully.
“A productive life!” Adina repeated angrily. She then turned on Chtomio in a fury. “Go on! Tell them what you do to us! Tell them what sort of productive life you have in store for us Janis! Tell them!” she slumped onto the ground. The Violet females helped her rise and then brought her back inside their house on wheels.
Chtomio gazed at his plate. His appetite had left him and he felt a stinging shame. He lowered his mask in a sign of humility and spoke to the Violet Monarch. “She’s right. The truth is, we were fleeing Samaris when we met you.” Chtomio then told the shocked Violets everything about the evil hunt his father had orchestrated. “I am ashamed of my own Chromes — of my own Kingdom,” he sighed.
“Well, you are nobler than I thought,” the monarch responded. “You refused to participate and you saved at least one of your subjects from certain death. By doing so, you saved yourself.”
“But I didn’t save my nation. And if an heir to the throne can’t change things, than I don’t know who can.”
“Perhaps you should take this question to the Seer,” suggested Thalassino.
“Indeed,” The Violet monarch agreed.
Chtomio had heard tales of Orange Seers, but the Red had always dismissed their Orange neighbors as being simplistic female chromes who lacked any real knowledge. To the Red nobles, they were just another example of how primitive rival chrome nations still were. But if this adventure had taught Chtomio anything, it was to look beyond the surface of a Chrome’s lineage.
“Please… tell me more about this Seer,” he said.
46. Chosen
When Sybilla awoke the next day, she decided she would go on exploring the temple further. She had been so exhausted the night before that she had almost fallen asleep the moment she lay foot inside.
At the very end of the hall, she noticed two small tunnels that she hadn’t seen the night before. They led deep inside the cave and resembled two large nostrils that led inside the bowels of the earth.
Sybilla took a torch and decided to enter the tunnel to her right.
The air was cold and the corridor was dark, but fortunately there were torches ready to be lit throughout the path.
“Any dark path can be lit,” she said to herself and half smiling, decided she would add this newly minted saying to her war chest of ready made phrases.
Then her smile quickly faded as she saw that in the first room she encountered, there was a tomb.
She knew she would be in the company of some dead seers, yet, it was the thought that she would be buried there after having lived there all her life that made her wary. That same wariness she felt when was summoned by the Nara, the guiding sister, on that fateful day that she was chosen to become the Seer.
“Sit,” the Nara had told her. The Nara’s cell in Crodya was frugal like any other and nothing in it would lead anyone to believe that she was the most powerful Sister of the Orange Nation. The walls were bare and her bed was hard. The window that overlooked the entire valley below was perhaps the only luxury that existed. It was open and from it Sybilla noticed the many crows flying over the city.
Sybilla had bowed before sitting on a small stool made from a tree trunk.
“Take off your mask,” she had ordered, and Sybilla had done so.
The Nara was herself without mask and her eyes pierced Sybilla’s. They stared hard at each other in silence and Sybilla was determined not to let the Nara’s gaze have the better of her.
The Nara had finally broken the silence.
“Tell me, are you enjoying this?” she had asked Sybilla, to which she had replied: “Nara’s words seem to Sybilla like fog… confusing, like those of a demagogue.”
In all response, Nara had slapped Sybilla hard on the face.
“Don’t you dare play with me, Sybilla! This game of yours has gone too far!”
Sybilla had resisted the urge of crying and of walking out of the room. Mustering all her strength, she had straightened her face and had looked once again Nara straight in the eyes.
“Our sisters don’t need someone to tell them riddles! The Nara sentenced. “They need someone that can give them faith! And hope! And love!”
Sybilla had never seen the guiding sister so raging mad.
“And you, Sybilla, were never one to give, but always to take.”
Sybilla then recalled how the Nara had stood up and, looking out the window, had given her the final blow.
“You will never become the Seer. You might as well finish it with this charade of yours.”
The Seer Page 6
