by R J Kaldanis
Sekher and Rachida looked at each other, crinkling their foreheads as they both said,
“You’re leaving us in Rovik?”
Aardriyah nodded,
“I am. Princess Kibo no longer needs my services, she gave me severance pay and I suppose that’s it.” Or at least that’s what Princess Kibo told her to say if she was asked.
“What about her dog? Did she also give you her dog?” Rachida asked, highly doubting Aardriyah’s story.
“Yes, actually. She decided Kit was not behaving well enough and actually it turns out she was allergic to it, so I suppose that’s that.” Kit barked in agreeance. She hated lying to her friends, but she also knew that she had to tell them sooner or later. The thought of just stealing away in the night without saying goodbye felt crueller than lying to them in the suns light.
Rachida remained quiet for the rest of the journey that day, refusing to talk to Aardriyah. Sekher had tried to explain to Aardriyah she was probably just annoyed that she had to remain in the company rather than taking early leave herself. After all everyone wanted to spend time with their family and loved ones over The Arche, but being employed in a royal household meant that was a usual sacrifice each year, only a few being lucky enough to be given leave. Aardriyah took the time in silence to enjoy the scenery, though there wasn’t much to look as they walked along sandstone cliffs, sea crashing on one side and orange dessert wastes on the other. Every now and then an Osmu would spot a dune mouse, chase after it and in the process would throw their rider off. Once satisfied they had devoured their prey, they would usually allow the servant to mount them again, but every now and then a greedy Osmu would ignore the request to kneel until they were given another dead vermin to fill their bellies.
As the sun began to fall, swallowed by the desert sea, the company stopped atop a plateau, overlooking a city of sandstone buildings and terracotta roofs.
“For a cursed city, it sure is a sight, huh?” Rachida finally said to Aardriyah.
Rovik was just as Aardriyah imagined it, a massive fortress surrounding all sides, high mountains guarding the north, the endless desert surrounding its southern and eastern borders and the sea to the west. Something about the city was hauntingly familiar, as if Aardriyah could picture herself standing on the fortified walls, looking over the edges towards the docks below, ships of all shapes and sizes moored in the bay.
“Riyah, we need to talk.” Came the voice of Prince Chastion behind her. Rachida was curtseying to the prince, keeping a keen eye on him. Aardriyah turned to face him, noticing Rachida curtseying, she followed suit to keep the facade up.
“Of course, your highness.” She said ever so sarcastically before following him down the plateau to a space along the cliff side. She noticed that Old Man Teme was already standing, looking out to the horizon and mumbling to himself.
“What’s this about?” she asked.
Old Man Teme turned to greet her, smile on his face as usual.
“We are leaving tonight for Rovik.” He said. “I just wanted to give you a chance to say your goodbyes, as I know you have made some friends here.”
Aardriyah suspected they might make a quiet getaway, given the secrecy surrounding their actual purpose for their journey to Rovik.
“I already have.” she said, though she wished she didn’t need to.
“Have you?” Old Man Teme said, looking over her. Prince Chastion rose on his heels and coughed slightly.
“Oh… right. Well, I suppose this is goodbye Chastion.” She said, now looking at her brother, the prince, the pride and glory of his family; the murderer. He reached out to give her a hug, but she backed away slowly. She didn’t want to relive any of his memories, particularly not that one. A pained expression now crossed his face, he stopped reaching for her and instead crossed his arms, looking down at them he said,
“I’m sorry Aardy, for everything I haven’t done.” It seemed like an odd expression at their parting, but it was fitting. He had missed a lot of her life, hadn’t been there for important moments and failed to protect her as a big brother should. He had done so little in her life, that he couldn’t apologise for that, but he could apologise for all he had missed.
“It’s fine.” Said Aardriyah.
He looked over his little sister now, the cold hard barrier she constantly put up between them; refusing to show any emotion to him.
“Do you know my favourite memory of you?” He now asked. She shook her head in response, “It was just a few weeks ago, you fell into my chest, cried and for once let your barrier down. You told me how you truly felt, all that raw emotion just came pouring out of you.”
“Of course, the one time I was truly weak and emotional is the favourite memory you have of me.” She said. He sighed and shook his head, trying to look into her eyes.
“Not weak. That was the strongest and bravest I have ever seen you. And it was the first time in what feels like a long, long time, that you let me in.”
She now looked in his deep blue eyes, his pupils dilated as he finished the sentence. A small closed lip smile formed across his face. It was oddly simple, that such a memory could create a bond between them, bring them closer in a moment of clarity, after years of neglect and distance had led to them becoming almost perfect strangers. Underneath all the resentment and bitterness she harboured, lay a simple truth, she missed her brother so much because she loved him so dearly. Perhaps, he finally understood that and perhaps, in this moment as he spoke those words, she finally understood also.
“Aardy, I had no idea what Stella had done to you. What she put you through, trying to force you to be water blessed. I’m so, so sorry.” He winced as he thought back to the memory of the little girl being drowned by her mother.
“It’s not your fault, Chastion.” Aardriyah said, a little hurt that he had invaded her memories somehow.
“I know it’s not my fault, but Aardriyah I never should have left you. I never should have just given up on you. I was always so jealous of you as a child, of the fact that you had our parents. I was so jealous that you didn’t have to become anyone other than who you really were. Now, I just wish I could somehow go back and save you from it all, stay with you, become the big brother you needed me to be.”
His deep blue eyes swam with tears. Aardriyah ran towards her brother and embraced him in a fierce hug, refusing to let any fear stop her from enjoying this moment. Memories rushed to her, but they were memories of their childhood, of all the dreams and plans they made together, all the promises shared to travel the world and discover all the magic still hiding out there. Here they were, years later, finally keeping one of those promises alive.
“I love you Aardriyah, always remember that.” He whispered into her ear.
“I love you more, Chastion.”
“I love you most.”
The pair giggled, before separating themselves. He parted shortly after and Old Man Teme grabbed Aardriyah’s hand, squeezing it gently in a sign of support and encouragement. They both returned to the camp and waited until all those around them fell to sleep. Once they were sure they were the only two awake, they quietly grabbed their canvas bags and made their way down the plateau onto the sandstone road that led directly to the cursed city, full of ghosts and criminals. The place that Aardriyah hoped she would finally discover her true self.
CHAPTER TWENTY
let us in
Each footstep Aardriyah took down the dunes, was welcomed by an influx of sand into her boots. She had changed just before leaving camp, figuring someone else could use her uniform since it was close to brand new and had barely been worn. Now she found herself wishing she had brought sandals or something easier to slip out of, instead of having to pull off her boots every few minutes to empty them. Her light blue blouse was high collared and tightly hugged her waist, the long sleeves keeping her arms warm. She had changed into dark leggings, buttoned down the side and fitting snuggly into her brown leather boots. Ove
r the top of her ensemble sat a small patchwork cape; which she was thankful for at this time of night, as the moon was just peaking and the winds picked up across the sea, blowing cold kisses upon the desert sands.
When they reached the bottom of the dunes, Old Man Teme finally spoke.
“We are to meet an old acquaintance inside, her name is Baba. She’s got the temper of an Osmu, so don’t be offended if she doesn’t warmly greet you this time of night.” The two travellers, and Kit, set off towards the fortified walls towering over the city of Rovik. A large blackened metal gate, easily twenty feet high, was hanging open and the rusted turn wheels on the sides indicated it probably hadn’t been closed in a long time. Once inside, they followed a ramp that took them down and around an overgrown garden, leading them back into what Aardriyah assumed must have been the main square. It was eerily quiet inside the city, and although it once housed thousands, now the only people who lived here were those who had a reason to run and hide. The square Old Man Teme and Aardriyah stood in contained a large water fountain in the middle, no longer operating but grandiose in its intricately carved stone alone. Two large snakes were intertwined and raped around the base, rising to a peak in the centre of the fountain, as water stains etched down their throats.
Aardriyah noticed the square contained several large buildings, marked with the symbols of the different elements. One of the buildings was similar to the underside of a ship, images of water and waves adorned the front, four large pillars of Verosian design stood, holding the overhanging roof up. Another had two large arched doors in the centre and one on either side. Above the doorways were intricately cut out shapes, resembling flower petals, that rose in a tube-like shape almost to the top of the building. To cap it all off, was an onion shaped roof, a spire above the top with a single flame burning. The next building was entirely cylindrical, rising higher than any other in the surroundings. It was pure white, and every ten feet or so a ledge circled around, teardrop shaped glass objects hanging from the edges. The last building, she recognised as the earth blessed centre of worship, as it was a large stepped pyramid, steep stairs leading to an ornate door of green at the very top.
Wishing she could stay longer to marvel at the architecture, she was disappointed when Old Man Teme grabbed her hand and led her past the fountain. They veered left down one of the several spidery streets that peeled off the main square. It was narrow, barely enough room for two people to stand side by side, as the tall buildings rose up several stories in the air. They climbed four sets of stairs winding this way and that, before Old Man Teme approached an old wooden door attached to a faded yellow building. He paused as he contemplated his first words to the person he was sure was beyond. It had been years after all since he had last seen her and he was certain she wouldn’t be thrilled at his sudden arrival.
He finally mustered the courage to knock, the sound echoing loudly down the lane. A few birds that had been perched on old windowsills flew off, the flaps of their wings sending a shiver down Aardriyah’s spine. No one answered the door, so Old Man Teme knocked again, a little louder this time. Kit whimpered and curled up on Aardriyah’s feet, apparently even he was scared of the ominous silence in this city of ghosts. A noise of sliding wood came from the top of the yellow building, followed by the appearance of an old woman’s face. Aardriyah could hardly make her out in the dull moonlight, but she could tell the woman was not impressed in the slightest. Her head disappeared back into the house, only to reappear a handful of moments later with a bucket. As she tipped the bucket out onto the path below, Aardriyah gagged at the pungent smell of it. She immediately knew that whatever Old Man Teme’s relationship with this woman was, it had to be shockingly awful to warrant being covered in warm piss at this time of the night.
Thankfully, Kit had pushed Aardriyah just before it was poured and she tripped over her feet, stumbling backwards. Old Man Teme however, wasn’t as lucky and stood drenched in urine, while a bellowing cackle rang from the window above. He stood in the filth for a moment, sighed and then wandered up the street, climbing more stairs. Aardriyah ran after him, not wishing to get too close for fear that she would add some human vomit to the mix of what was covering Old Man Teme.
“So, what did you do to her?” She asked, he didn’t respond so she added in,
“Oooh! Can I call you Old Man Pist now?”
Her looked back at her, while continuing forward and huffed.
“I’ll explain one day.” He replied.
Aardriyah was starting to get fed up of his excuses, tired of being told to wait for a particular moment to find out what his riddled words meant and his utter lack of using any honesty when that time finally arrived. She was about to tell him her very thoughts, when he stopped and turned right down another alley.
“Where in Undina’s name are we going?” She demanded.
He didn’t respond as he pushed the door open on a brown terracotta house, part of the ongoing block of tall, rectangular buildings. Once inside, he looked around on the floor, exclaiming in a quiet voice indicating he had found what he was looking for. He pulled an old torn and dusted rug off the floor and opened a trapdoor. He went down without further hesitation and Aardriyah followed, holding her arms out for Kit as he jumped down the small hole. Old Man Teme shut the trap door, locking it from the inside. He shone his lantern around the small cavity, sighting a large wine barrel, he walked towards it and pried the front of it. Aardriyah’s mouth dropped as it opened, exposing a secret tunnel beyond. He gestured for her to enter, assisting her into the wine barrel and passing Kit to her. Of all the people to be in a shallow tunnel with, she soon discovered being stuck with someone covered in urine was the absolute worst. Luckily the tunnel wasn’t too long, only two or three bends before they reached the other side, another wine barrel. Old Man Teme kicked it with his feet, flinging it open. Light poured into the barrel and standing right on the other side of the, obscuring the light, was the same woman who had moments earlier thrown her collection of urine all over Old Man Teme. Now however, Aardriyah marvelled at the fat red chicken sitting atop her right shoulder. The look of pure hatred seemed to also radiate from its eyes, matching the old woman’s.
“Baba.” Teme said.
“Bastard.” She responded, her face wretched with years of anger and resentment.
As Old Man Teme made his way out of the barrel, he tried to keep his eyes on Baba, weary that she might be hiding a second bucket. He completely forgot about helping Aardriyah and Kit out, as he made his approach to the woman. She appeared to be considerably older than Teme, wrinkles covering almost every inch of her face. She was hunched over, supporting herself on a wooden cane, ugly, old and broken as she was. Her mouth had several teeth missing, and those that remained were yellow and cracked. Aardriyah was certain she had never seen a woman as outwardly unappealing as Baba, but she resolved to never openly admit such horrible thoughts.
“What do I need to throw on you to get you to leave me alone? A bucket of my crap? Would that do it?”
“Leave you alone? But I left you alone for years, decades, maybe even centuries.” Old Man Teme replied, trying to jest but not receiving the smile he hoped might miraculously appear. Baba’s mouth, and the whiskers above it, remained still not raising in the slightest. She glared at Old Man Teme, then held her nose as the putrid smell of piss contaminated the small basement.
“Well if you’re going to insist on being in my house, you’re going to need to change and bathe. Get up stairs now.” She said, Old Man Teme abided and she smacked him across his backside with her cane. Aardriyah followed the pair silently with Kit by her side. The ground level of the house was poorly furnished, two bentwood chairs accompanied a cracked marble table, while a makeshift lounging area was complemented by bays of hale and furs on top. The old woman pushed Old Man Teme into the bathing chamber and shut the door, rambling on to him as she did so. Aardriyah stood in the dining room, unsure of what to say or do and certainly not wanting
to warrant a bucket of piss, or crap, to be thrown on her, she decided to stay silent for the time being.
Baba waddled around the room, grabbed two small pillows and threw them on the hay.
“You can stay the night, tomorrow I don’t want to find you here. I don’t care what he says.” She continued to mumble to herself as she moved her way higher in the house, clinging to the railing of the stairs as she rose. Aardriyah tried to make herself as comfortable as possible on the spiky hay bed but was startled when she heard the voice of a grumbling old man behind her in the kitchen. She turned quickly, wishing she had a dagger or knife to protect her, Kit growled lowly also sensing the presence. Her eyes scanned the darkened room, but she couldn’t see anyone or anything that could have possibly made the noise. Deciding she probably was just overwhelmed by the days of travel and lack of sleep, the noise having fully ceased, she willed herself to sleep.
After a restless night of sleep on possibly one of the most uncomfortable beds Aardriyah had ever slept upon, she awoke to a sharp jab on her cheek, then another on her eye, followed by one on her forehead. She opened her eyes, trying to adjust them to the thing sitting in front of her - it’s short straight beak and cockscomb of red with beady black eyes glared back at her, readying itself for another peck at her face.
“Come on, get up and out of here.” A croaky old voice said from across the room. Aardriyah put her boots on and watched as Old Man Teme grabbed the cane in response to the incessant whacking and prodding he was suffering.
“Look Baba, if you just stopped for one moment and gave me a chance to explain, you would know that this is bigger than you and I.” He said through gritted teeth. As Aardriyah arose from her bed of hay, the chicken jumped off and flew itself on top of Baba’s shoulder, proudly perching atop its master. Aardriyah turned to face the table and saw they were not alone. A young man with olive skin, a dark beard trimmed closely to his jawline sat at the table. Aardriyah noticed his hair was fashioned into a half up, half down style, dark brown locks touching his shoulders at their length. She smiled half-heartedly, while her belly moaned for any scrap of food about. The young man stood, walked to what she assumed was their food store, and watched as he grabbed an apple from an invisible hand, passing it to her without saying a word or changing his face at all.
