by Lyra Shanti
Just then, Zasaban entered the palace library and walked over to where Ayn stood. He looked as if he had something to say, but Ayn was absorbed in his book and wasn’t paying much attention.
“Oh, Zas, you’ve got to see this,” said Ayn, still staring at the page. “Did you know about the God Otho?”
“Yes, Your Majesty, I am aware of the wolf God of Deius.”
“Oh, really?” asked Ayn, now turning to look at Zasaban. “Did they teach old Deiusian myths on Hun? That’s where you come from, right?”
“Yes, Ayn… before it was all destroyed, the Sage Atrium held many, many books… countless stories, legends, and myths. It was what Hunians prided themselves on. Our library even surpassed the great Dinapple on Kri.”
“I’m so sorry about your planet’s demise,” said Ayn. Zasaban nodded stoically in return. “Hey, Zas,” Ayn said, purposefully changing the subject, “can you read this for me? I can’t quite make out the symbols.”
Showing the book’s page to his adviser, Ayn waited impatiently for his reply.
“It says that Otho would take his prey - no, sorry - his student to the mountains of Quay-Karah and wait for the fire dragon… to um… to judge him. Something like that.”
“The fire dragon?” asked Ayn. “Are you sure? Why would Siya be there? Was she working together with Matana like a pair of judges or were they the same being? Wow… I never read this much about our old myths. This is so interesting!” Ayn looked over at Zasaban, expecting him to agree, but Ayn could tell his adviser was nervous about something, and it made him feel anxious as well.
“What’s wrong, Zas?”
“I am not accustomed to reading old Deiusian.”
“That’s not what’s wrong,” said Ayn, squinting his blue eyes.
“Yes, well, I haven’t wanted to upset you, but the truth is, we’ve lost touch with all of our Tah generals on the Ohrian mission.”
“What?!” snapped Ayn as he closed the old scroll-book in his hands.
“I didn’t want to alarm you, but Pei hasn’t responded for at least a week. Given the time difference between our planets, he and his troop could have been missing for even longer.”
“I knew Fola and Sterek were missing, but Pei too?! This is a disaster!”
“I’ve messaged Baran, and he is sending Lirhan reinforcements.”
“This is awful,” said Ayn, stunned. “I can’t believe they’ve gone off our radar so easily. How could this happen, Zasaban?”
“I have a theory, Your Majesty.”
“Yes, what is it?” asked Ayn as he put away the book onto the nearby shelf.
“Well,” replied Zasaban, “I believe they were either captured by the drones and instantly sucked into another universe… and possibly disintegrated.”
“Or?!” sputtered Ayn.
“Or… perhaps the Tirleni found them and took them inside their underwater tunnel-city.”
“They have a tunnel-city?” asked Ayn, desperately hoping Zasaban’s second theory was correct.
“Yes, they do. It is home to thousands of Tirleni where they can change their shape at will, either swimming with their tails, using their gills to breathe, or walking on their legs and breathing through their mouths. They are a fascinating offshoot of how the Ohrians evolved. It is too bad Kurin did not see their greatness the way I did.”
“I’m glad you know so much about them; you may be the only one who does. Zas…” added Ayn, “you used to be Kurin Vax’s senior adviser, yes?”
“Yes, that is true.”
“Did you know what evil he was capable of?”
“No, Ayn, I did not. I actually believed his words when he said he wanted to unite the Ohrian people. Kurin was always a wonderful liar… and I suppose I was swayed by his charisma. I soon learned the truth, however, and that is why I took Zin under my wing. I also felt a great pity for the prince. He was very lost at the time. He needed me as much as I needed him. I think we gave each other hope when neither of us had any left.”
Ayn nodded and thought for a moment. He then put his hands together and firmly said, “Alright, I think it’s high time that I go to Ohr and-”
“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” came a voice from the door. It was Miss Lahrki and she was shyly popping her head in the room.
“Yes?” asked Ayn, a bit annoyed.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but the doctor very much wishes to speak with you as soon as possible. He is in his laboratory.”
Ayn sighed and rubbed his angled black bangs away from his forehead, pushing them toward his long ponytail-braid. “Tell Doctor Hessen I’ll be right there,” he said, still annoyed.
Miss Lahrki nodded and bowed, quickly exiting the room.
“It must be important if the doctor sent his personal servant,” said Zasaban.
“We’ll talk more about this very soon,” said Ayn, “and in the meantime, please help Baran’s Lirhan spies as much as possible. The minute you hear anything about where Pei and the others are, I want to know.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Zasaban with a nod.
As Ayn swiftly left the room with his light-blue robe swaying against his legs as he walked, Zasaban was filled with anxiety and fear.
Could this be the time you spoke of, Mother? he wondered. Looking at a regal painting of Adin on the library wall, he begged his mother in his mind, Please give me more time. He is not ready. He is not The Great Adin. He is growing into a man, yes, but in many ways, he is still… just a boy.
The painting stared at Zasaban with his stoic blue eyes. It was a painting supposedly created in the time of Adin’s life just before his untimely death. According to Deiusian myth, Adin had become a living legend: a king who rode a Sarax and who could wield plasma as if he were a God. Ayn had acquired the same legend in his lifetime, but Zasaban knew Ayn was fighting back his power, and without Axis by his side, Ayn had lost faith in his own abilities.
“I need time,” he said with a sigh, leaning against the bookshelf, “though I know I have none.” Noticing the scroll-book Ayn had perused, he pulled it from the shelf and opened it to the myth of Otho. As he read, he slowly understood what Ayn was missing. “Of course,” he said as he grinned, “there is no light without the dark. I only have to raise your darkness to the surface, my king. But how?”
Determined, Zasaban closed the book, put it back on the shelf, and then meditated on his own soul’s inner flame. He knew if there was anyone who could bring forth Adin’s suppressed anger and fire inside the well-behaved Bodanya, it was he.
Chapter 11: Leap of Faith
Ayn walked into the laboratory with a sense of uneasiness. Not only was he disturbed by the news that Pei had gone missing, but he was apprehensive to hear whatever the doctor had to tell him. He hoped it was good news; he surely needed some.
Lius was sitting at his desk, looking over his plasma-tablet with knotted brow, his blonde-gray hair hanging slightly over his forehead. He looked up at Ayn with a serious expression. It didn’t make Ayn feel all that comforted.
“Ah, good, you’re here,” said the doctor. “We need to speak immediately. Please close the door behind you.”
Ayn did as he asked, then walked over to him. “What is it, Lius?”
“Take a seat, Ayn,” he replied.
“If you’ve found I can’t have children, please just tell me straight out. Don’t take your time or step around the subject. Just tell me the truth.”
Lius shook his head and slightly sighed. “No, Ayn, it’s not that.”
Confused, Ayn cocked his head a little and said, “Huh?”
“You are able to have children, Ayn. You are actually quite fertile. I’m honestly surprised you and Ona haven’t conceived already, though it may have more to do with stress than either of your reproductive parts.”
“That’s good news, doctor,” replied Ayn. “So… why do you have that sour look on your face?”
Lius took a deep breath and said, “Because, even though your fertility tes
t came out exceedingly positive, what I found after taking your blood was not nearly as hopeful.”
Ayn shook his head and breathed in, frustrated. “Come on, Lius, stop dancing around the subject. Just spit it out.”
“You’re dying,” Lius said bluntly.
“What?” replied Ayn, shocked.
“You are in the second stage of Undaniasis. You may have inherited the infected cells from your mother, and the extreme amounts of plasma coursing through you in the last few years must have sped up the process. I’m so sorry, Ayn, but… if nothing is done to reverse the illness, you may only have a few more years to live.”
“WHAT?!” Ayn screamed, standing to his feet, breathing irregular.
“I’m sorry,” Lius said, his usually stoic face breaking into cringed sadness. “I do have a plan though, Ayn. Please, calm down. We can fight this. We WILL fight it, and I will do everything I can to save you, I promise.”
Ayn slowly sat back down, his blue eyes inflamed. He took a deep breath and said, “What sort of plan, Lius? Please, tell me whatever it is doesn’t involve needles.”
“I can’t tell you that, Ayn, but I’m more worried about the cellular treatments you will endure.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you are aware that your wife and I have been testing out how the regeneration process used on Meddhi and Pira can also be used for rebuilding and healing the infected cells of Undaniasis.”
“Yes, though I thought you hadn’t figured it out yet.”
“I haven’t quite stabilized the cells after treating them, that is true, but I think it’s worth trying. Don’t you?”
Ayn nodded, although he felt sick and unsure.
“Ayn,” said the doctor, reaching for his hand, “I will do everything I can to cure you of this sickness, and then, we will cure everyone else, once and for all. Please, keep your faith.”
Ayn looked at Lius with tear-filled eyes. “Faith?” he quietly replied. “I’ve never been so good at that.”
The doctor, beginning to tear up as well, sat with Ayn and held him. He wanted to cure Ayn with the blink of his eye. So unfair, thought Lius as he let his tears fall. My wife, his mother, Ona’s mother… so many lost to this unnecessary, cruel illness.
Ayn’s own sadness was beginning to disappear, and instead, melded into fierce anger. “I want you to kill this sickness inside my blood, Lius, even if you have to destroy whatever Bodanya abilities that still may be inside me to do it. Do you understand me? I can’t die. Ona would kill me.”
Lius half-smiled at the irony of his words, then nodded. “I won’t give up, my good, brave king. Don’t you give up either, alright?”
Ayn nodded and stood up. “I will do the treatment, even if there are needles or worse. I won’t die the way my mother did. I forbid myself.”
Lius proudly smiled and said, “Good. I will expect you here bright and early tomorrow morning for your surgical evaluation.”
“Surgical?”
“Yes, Ayn, I will need to replace your infected cells with healthy, uninfected cells. To do this, I will first need to regenerate them by extracting enough samples from your body. That will be your first surgery. It will be relatively painless, though you will need to be put under for a few hours.”
“Wait, my first surgery? There will be more?”
“Yes, unfortunately, there will probably be a few. I will try to space them out where you have enough time to recover each time.”
Ayn grabbed his forehead and rubbed it. “I… I don’t know if I can do this, Lius.”
“Yes, you can, Your Majesty. You are the bravest man I know. You can, and will, do this for your wife, for your planet… for your future children.”
Ayn looked at his second father and softly said, “Do you really still believe I can have children?”
“Yes, I do,” replied Lius. “All you have to do is believe... and try.”
It seemed impossible to Ayn, but he nodded, thinking of Ona and how much he wanted to give her at least one child.
Knowing he was about to climb a giant mountain of uncertainty, Ayn stood up, dazed, and slowly walked out of the laboratory. He was instinctively heading toward the river and the Holy Saras Tree - his tree of hope. He wished his mother was still there, but he hadn’t seen her spirit in years.
Mother… where are you? he wondered as he walked, fighting back tears.
--
Meddhi felt an enormous guilt weighing on his heart. She’s not mine, he thought. She never was. She was Yol’s, and then Atlar’s - not mine. So why do I feel this overwhelming need for her?
Ever since he had kissed her in the temple, Pira had avoided him at every turn. She wouldn’t even look his way.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t get her out of mind. He couldn’t even sleep. It didn’t make any sense to his mind, but his heart and body yearned to touch her again, so much that he had followed her into the garden, hiding from her view.
I’m acting like a lovelorn child, he teased himself as he secretly watched her singing by the giant, hanging Saras tree. Her voice was gentle and sweet, and he swooned with every sound she made.
He was in the process of building the courage to speak to her when he saw his son out of the corner of his eye. He immediately noticed Ayn’s disturbed, tear-filled expression.
What is wrong with my boy? he asked himself.
About to ask his son in person, breaking his secret presence in the process, Meddhi took a step forward. However, he stopped when he saw Pira noticing Ayn as well. She turned and immediately followed him.
“Ayn?” she said as she put her hand on his shoulder. “What is it? I don’t mean to pry, but you seem like you’re crying. Are you alright?”
Ayn shook his head and began to crumble. Something about Pira’s eyes made him break. He couldn’t tell her though, for fear she’d tell Ona. He wasn’t ready for anyone to know about his illness, let alone Ona. He just didn’t want to talk about it.
Luckily, Pira sensed his feelings and wrapped her arms around Ayn’s back. “Shh,” she hushed him, “everything will be alright.”
Desperate for her nurturing warmth, Ayn bawled on her shoulder. She then began to rock Ayn slowly in her arms while singing him a tender, old Deiusian lullaby.
Meddhi was stunned. He hadn’t seen Ayn break like that since he was a small boy, nor had he seen Pira give such warmth, even to her own daughter. If it hadn’t been so obvious that Pira was only giving Ayn her mothering, Meddhi might have slipped into jealousy. However, as Meddhi watched, he fell even more in love with her. He wished he could give to his son the same kind of warmth, but he sensed Ayn needed a mother figure at that particular moment, and so he let them have their space.
After a few moments, when Pira had finished singing, Ayn calmed down and looked at her, somewhat astonished.
“I… can’t be The Bodanya,” said Ayn, his voice slightly breaking.
“Hush, my dear,” she cooed, “no one needs you to be any such thing right now. You just cry… and let the pain go.”
Wiping his tears and feeling embarrassed for his outburst, Ayn slowly pulled away from her and said, “I’m sorry, Pira, I just-”
“No, there’s nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. You’re my son-in-law. You can cry on me anytime. In fact, let’s sit down and you can tell me everything.”
“I… really shouldn’t,” said Ayn, trying his best to gather his wits.
“Nonsense. Come here,” she said as she sat under the tree and patted the grass next to her. Ayn felt helpless to deny her, so he sat down, crossing his legs under his light-blue robe. She then held his hand, petting it softly. “You can tell me anything,” she said with a gentle smile, “I won’t tell my daughter, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
Ayn sniffed and wiped away the remainder of his tears. “Are you psychic?” he asked with a slight smirk.
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Yes, I am.”
He looked at her and wondered if she really w
as. Her bright green eyes shone in the sunlight as she looked at him with love. It made Ayn want to cry again; something about her felt so familiar.
“I’m sorry,” he shyly spoke, “I didn’t mean to fall apart on you like that.”
“I told you, Ayn, you’re my son now. You don’t have to pretend with me. What’s wrong?”
He didn’t know where to begin. “I… I just… can’t be the powerful God people have always wanted me to be. I have lost my power… ever since Axis and I had our bond severed. You weren’t here for that, but trust me, it was awful. I haven’t been the same since… and now, well, it’s worse. I feel frail, Pira… much more than anyone may realize. I don’t know what to do. Please don’t tell Ona any of this. I know she wants me to be strong.”
“My daughter loves you, Ayn, with all her soul. You should trust her. She will love and support you, no matter how frail you may feel. Let her inside that vulnerability, and I know she will make you feel stronger.”
Ayn looked at Pira’s radiant green eyes. He had never known his aunt when he was a child, but he had seen pictures and paintings. Nothing had captured her spirit though; it was good and kind, and proud - so very much like his own mother had been… before she became ill and left him too soon.
Not wanting to think about his mother, he turned to look at the river and said, “Thank you, Pira.”
“You can call me Mother, if you wish.”
Ayn’s heart thumped in pain. He couldn’t do that, for he only had one mother, and she was gone.
Meddhi watched them from behind the tree. Confused by Ayn’s obvious heartache, he planned on asking him about it later that night. He hoped his son would be honest. He has inherited my tendency to keep things hidden, he told himself, wishing he hadn’t passed on that particular trait.
“Are you going to spy on us all afternoon, Father?” asked Ayn, half-smirking.
Meddhi, surprised, came out from behind the tree. Pira looked at him and raised her brow.
