The Seer

by Roberto Ricci

  As she recalled this confrontation inside the temple, Sybilla lit further torches along the tunnel and moved away from the chamber with the tomb. She entered another room and this one was filled with golden dishes and silver cups, precious stones and ornate dresses. Perhaps a treasure room of some sort, she thought, or maybe of gifts given to the previous seers.

  Her curiosity mounted as she moved further along the corridor, into the next room. This one was a pleasant surprise as it had a larder stuffed with food. She picked up a piece of cold meat to chew on and moved on to the next room in the corridor.

  Like the others, this room was also pitch dark. She moved the torch inside the dark room and saw something move. It came closer to her.

  “Aaaahhh!” She screamed and ran out of the chamber.

  She ran back to the entrance hall and exited the temple, her legs still trembling. She looked up at the blue sky, relieved that whatever was in that room, it hadn’t captured her. I’m alone here, she realized, and if anything happens, no one will come and help me.

  She pondered her words. Help? I don’t need help! I can take care of myself! She said, taking courage again. Up in the sky an eagle shrieked. She felt it was calling directly her. Come Sybilla! This is your first day here and already you want to run away? Was the Nara right about you?

  She shook her head. She felt strong again, just like when she faced the Nara in that harsh confrontation.

  You will never become the Seer, she had told her.

  Sybilla grinned while remembering what had happened after.

  “Let me tell you something, Nara,” she had said sternly, surprising even herself. “You do not decide who is chosen to be the next Seer. It is the goddesses that choose. And it is me they have chosen.”

  “Oh, really?” The Nara had said. “Well then, prove it!”

  Sybilla had remained in silence staring at her superior.

  “See? Your empty words mean nothing here!” the elder sister had insisted, “Now leave!”

  Sybilla had gotten up but instead of leaving the Sister’s cell, she had moved closer to the open window, still staring into the eyes of the Nara. She had then raised her head to the heavens and with her arms held up high she had shouted: “Goddesses! If it is Sybilla with whom your reign should align, send us a sign!”

  “Sybilla, stop this nonsense!” Nara had cried out, feeling uncomfortable.

  But Sybilla had pretended not to hear her. She stood unperturbed in front of the window, waiting for the sign. And the sign came, just as she had hoped. While her words had echoed down the valley, the pendant on her necklace reflected the sunlight. The crows flying over Crodya took notice and began to fly closer to the Nara’s window.

  “Sybilla, leave at once!” the Nara had ordered but it was too late.

  A first crow flew inside the cell and Sybilla was able to dodge him just in time. Other crows instinctively followed, and in an instant, Nara’s cell became a mess, with numerous birds whirling inside it.

  “Make them go away!” the Nara had shouted while trying to protect herself. “You proved your point! You’re the chosen! Now make them leave!”

  “Yes, I’m the chosen,” she now told herself, “and I am stronger than whoever is in that room.” She then grabbed not one but two torches, took a deep breath and then started walking quickly back inside the tunnel, towards the chamber.

  When she arrived at its entrance, she hesitated for a moment, but then moved slowly inside. She saw that there was light coming from the darkness and the light was drawing nearer… there were actually two lights now, or two… torches? She moved closer and realized the light was the reflection of the flames. She was looking at a mirror. When she found the torches to light up the room, she discovered that the chamber was full of mirrors. She had been scared away by her own reflection!

  Now, with the room well lit, whichever side she looked at, she found the image of herself staring back at her. She saw the determined face of a female chrome. The face of a Seer.

  47. Encounter

  The houses on wheels resumed their journey over the Orange mountains. Chtomio had returned to Thalassino’s wagon, hoping to see further improvement in Keiran’s health, but his friend’s outlook remained bleak. His skin was still slightly bluish and his mouth foamy. Chtomio shook Keiran’s arm.

  “Don’t touch him!” said Thalassino coming inside the wagon from the driver’s coach.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you may spread the poison that way.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” asked the Red prince.

  “Pray to your gods,” Thalassino answered, “And I’ll pray to mine.”

  “Pray to my gods…” he repeated thinking about the monuments of Adio and Adia at the entrance of Samaris. “I wish they were more than just statues.”

  Thalassino was taken aback by these words. “You’re not a believer?”

  “Perhaps not like you or your monarch. He told me about the Seer. He seems to believe in her, as well. But what exactly does he want from her?”

  “That is not for me to know.”

  “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

  “Oh no! That’s impossible! We’re not allowed to attend her meeting with our monarch.”

  “So you’re making this journey without knowing why?”

  “Our monarch desires it. And that’s good enough for us.”

  Thalassino returned to the front of the wagon, leaving Chtomio alone with Keiran once again.

  “I’ll take you back to Samaris, my friend,” he whispered, “I know you would not want me to, but surely our Red healers are better. They will help you — don’t you worry about that.”

  ––-

  That night, during dinner, Chtomio kept his mind busy working out a plan to transport Keiran home. The truth was he didn’t trust the Violets that much. Keiran needed to be cured by the Red, for only they alone completely understood their aura, and Chtomio feared that any further delays would worsen his friend’s condition even more.

  He was grateful to the Violets for having helped him and Adina in a time of need but how could he know that they wouldn’t purposely harm Keiran? Or for that matter, how could he know that their objective wasn’t to kidnap him and demand a ransom from his father? No, there was no doubt in his mind that he needed to leave the caravan this very night.

  “My dear Prince, where is the appetite you young chromes are famous for?”

  Chtomio looked at the Violet Monarch and then at his bowl of crushed petals and nuts.

  “Er, yes, Your Majesty, I’m sorry. I was immersed in my thoughts.”

  “I know what is on your mind, Chtomio. I should have dealt with it already upon your arrival.”

  “Oh, really?” said Chtomio astonished.

  “Yes. In fact, I think now is a good time as any.” The Magnificent picked up a small iron box from the ground. The Violet opened it and delicately removed a cylindrical object.

  Chtomio had already seen a similar object in the hands of his father.

  “It’s a scopium,” he said, impressed as always, by the rare device that the rulers of every nation used to assess the color of every newborn chrome.

  “Indeed,” answered the Violet. “Given that a Red newborn is among us, who better than the Red heir to the throne to confirm his chrome?”

  Before Chtomio could answer, the Violet monarch cried out: “Bring here the Red mother and her infant!”

  “I’m not sure I can do it, Magnificent. I never learned how, in Samaris. I don’t have any authority yet.” Chtomio responded.

  “Well there’s a first time for everything,” replied the Monarch, “the gods have decided that your time has come.”

  Yit approached the two: “We can’t seem to find her, Magnificent! The Red mother and her infant aren’t in any wagon.”

  “I’m sure she can’t be far from here,” said the Violet monarch, “maybe she wanted to be left alone with her son while feeding him. Let’s give her some
time.”

  But Adina never came back. They soon concluded that she had run away. Chtomio understood why. He only hoped that wherever she ended up, she would find peace of mind and would live a serene life.

  That night, it was Chtomio’s turn to flee. Thalassino was visiting the monarch’s house on wheels and Chtomio knew that the time had come to make a move.

  “Keiran!” he whispered to his friend. “Wake up, Keiran!” Chtomio began to shake his body gently. “You’ve got to wake up Keiran!”

  Nothing. Chtomio reasoned the only way to escape would be to take the entire wagon with them. But he also knew they wouldn’t get very far.

  “Mm…,”

  He looked down at Keiran and watched his friend regain consciousness. “Keiran!” he said.

  “Ah, my body!”

  “It’s all right,” said Chtomio, “It’s all right.”

  “Chtomio? Is it really you?”

  “Yes, I’m here. But we have to leave. We’re with the Violets and we are far away from Samaris.”

  “Leave? Why? I don’t understand. Ah, my legs.”

  “They told me that you’ve been poisoned by butterflies.”

  “Yes… my fault. How did you get here?”

  Chtomio recounted how he met Adina and how they both were intercepted by the Violets. “But now it’s time to go back to Samaris. They will cure you there.”

  Keiran’s face tightened. “No, no, Chtomio. I’m tired, I need to sleep…”

  “You’re free to go whenever you like, but Keiran needs to stay here and be healed.”

  Chtomio turned around and saw Thalassino standing behind him. “No one’s stopping you. Go if you want,” continued the Violet chrome.

  Chtomio shook his head. “I’ll stay until Keiran gets better. Until I see it with my own eyes. Then I’ll leave.”

  “As you wish,” replied Thalassino.

  The next day, the caravan reached the foothills of the Orange mountains. In the distance, the two twin cities, Doryca and Crodya, could be barely distinguished from their rocky landscape. There were bovines grazing nearby and Chtomio saw several Orange chromes staring at them, no doubt with curiosity.

  Keiran had improved considerably. His skin was no longer tinted blue, but a much healthier pink. Thalassino saw to it that he had anything he needed.

  “Seems like you’re the real monarch for him,” Chtomio chuckled during the trip. He was surprised to see his friend blush like a plum in the sun. “Well then, I am no longer needed,” he finally realized. “I shall go my way.”

  The Violets gave Chtomio a sack full of food as well as a waterskin. He thanked the Magnificent and bowed, then made one final visit to Keiran. “So they’re going to let you stay with them, huh?” he asked his friend.

  “Yes, they’re good chromes, Chtomio. Better than us! For the first time in my life, I feel like I’ve found my rightful place.”

  Chtomio nodded. “I’m glad you did,” he said sincerely and smiled.

  “You can always come and visit me,” said Keiran.

  “Sure, and Samaris will always be there for you.”

  The two gave each other one last hug. “Goodbye, Keiran.”

  “Keiran died with the butterflies, Chtomio. My name from now on will be Danayd.”

  “A new name will not make you a Violet chrome.”

  “I know, but I feel like I am born again.” He then raised his hands. “And these six finger hands are a testimony to that.” They both laughed and Chtomio was happy to see that his friend did not take the poison’s consequences on his body as a curse. On the contrary, he realized that this made him fit even more with the Violets, for they seemed to appreciate body deformations as with Adina’s son.

  “I understand,” the Red prince finally said, “but I will still miss the old Keiran.”

  “And he’ll miss you too, Chtomio.”

  Chtomio left the Violets’ houses on wheels and set foot in the opposite direction of the Orange mountains. He had decided to return to the Red Kingdom and confront his father. He took one last look at the red and orange streaked rocks, which seemed to divide the earth and the sky. Somewhere out there, was the so called Seer, he thought. Someone so important she’d inspired a monarch to travel between Territories just to pay her a visit. His curiosity began to get the better of him. Then he shook his head. “Nah, I have to get back to Samaris. They’ll be waiting for me.”

  He took one more step and then stopped again to think. “But when will I ever get the chance, again, to meet a Seer?” He mumbled to himself.

  He turned once more toward the Orange mountains and this time, he didn’t stop. His spirits lifted at the thought of meeting the Orange mystic. Perhaps she could tell him what to do with his life.

  It’s only when he arrived to the top of the first cliff, that Chtomio realized he had no idea where this mystic lived. Then he saw a purple dot moving below him, in the chasm. “It’s the Monarch!” he exclaimed. “All I have to do now is follow him and he will lead me to the Seer.”

  Fortunately for Chtomio, the monarch’s aged, plump body forced him to pause many times so he was easy to tail. It took awhile, but finally, the Violet chrome arrived at the mouth of the gorge where the Seer’s temple lay. “Wow,” exclaimed Chtomio, seeing it from the cliff above. He was very impressed by the grand scale of its architecture. “And here I thought that the Orange were just simple mountain chromes devoted to grazing their animals.” He waited for the Monarch to enter the temple, but the Violet chrome seemed hesitant.

  “What’s he waiting for?” he wondered.

  And then he understood. He was waiting for the Seer to emerge from her temple and greet him as if to authorize him to come to her… which she did. Her orange-hued copper mask glinted in the sunlight. So much so, that looking at her almost blinded Chtomio. Even though he wasn’t close, he could see that the Seer’s arms and legs were firm. And those were not the only firm parts of her body, the young prince noted.

  The Seer’s musical voice floated up to him from inside the gorge. “Greetings Violet Monarch, I was expecting you.”

  “You knew I was coming?” asked the Violet, surprised.

  “Ever since you decided to make such a journey,” replied Sybilla in a grave tone.

  “Then you know the reason why I am here,” he replied.

  “Indeed I do. The question is: do you?”

  The Violet chrome hesitated for a moment before answering, “Yes, I wish to know who should be my successor. Isn’t that the reason?”

  Ah, so that’s why he came, thought Sybilla. “You are worried about the future of your nation… that’s the real reason.” She said, aloud. “But the future is like a curtain. How and when it will be drawn back is uncertain. Changes and choices depend not on one, but on many voices.”

  “So guide me, Seer for I am confused.”

  As he heard her speak, Chtomio was even more confused than the Violet leader. What in Adio’s name is she saying? Is this how the Orange spoke? In riddles? He tried to recall the few times he had heard them in Samaris, when they came to sell their herds to the Reds. They mostly talked about meats and salts. No riddles there. This Orange was obviously different. And even though she spoke in a peculiar manner, he liked the cheerful tone of her voice.

  The Seer gestured for the monarch to follow her inside the temple. Chtomio’s curiosity was such that he decided he would risk going all the way down to both hear and see what happened next.

  Chtomio carefully made his way down to the gorge and sprinted over to the giant temple pillars. He hid behind one of them and, luckily, the temple’s entrance was open so he could hear what was being said inside.

  The Seer stood in the center of the temple, near a brazier. She waved her hands over the flame as if to touch it, whispering words that Chtomio didn’t quite catch. She then cast rune stones on a table and lowered her head to scrutinize them carefully. The Violet Monarch observed her every move.

  “You are wandering aimlessly in thi
s search, tiring your body and your mind,” she said to him, “but a fool you are not — merely to reality, blind.”

  “I know,” replied the Monarch impatiently, “that’s why I am here, and why I made such a journey. I need to make a decision soon. And in order to do this, I need to understand the future.”

  Sybilla raised her arms and said: “The future is already present and near you.”

  “You mean that my successor has been traveling with me?”

  “I am but a messenger of the goddesses. I can only repeat what they say. And now…” Sybilla’s body shook as she concentrated. “And now the goddesses are saying that you must open your eyes wide toward the sky. At first you’ll be astonished, but then you’ll be able to see a rare butterfly.”

  “A butterfly? I don’t understand,” said the monarch.

  Neither do I, thought Chtomio.

  “It takes time to find meaning for the words of the goddesses,” replied Sybilla patiently, “at the right moment, you will see the light.” She always liked to finish with that phrase. It left everyone with a ray of hope.

  She watched the Violet chrome leave her, repeating her last words “… then I’ll be able to see a rare butterfly.”

  Sybilla looked at her hands. They were trembling. Her first seeker had been none other than the ruler of another nation! But she felt satisfied that she had impressed him. The many solstices spent in Crodya deceiving her sisters had paid off. Now that she had also tricked the leader of another nation, she felt invincible.

  “Will you tell me my future?”

  She turned around and saw a new chrome standing before her at the temple entrance, dressed in red. “How did you…?” Take hold of yourself Sybilla! “Who are you and why are you here?” She then said in an imperious tone.

  “I thought you would tell me that,” Chtomio replied.

  There was a hint of mockery in his voice that irritated Sybilla. “Those who wish to fool others are they themselves fools!” she thundered.

  “Funny, I would have said the same thing about you,” rebutted Chtomio. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”