A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (36 page)

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Authors: Jon Chaisson

Tags: #urban fantasy, #science fiction, #alien life, #alien contact, #spiritual enlightenment, #future fantasy, #urban sprawl, #spiritual fiction fantasy

BOOK: A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe
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“Where are we going, Dahné?”

“To the hundred forty-second floor,”
Natianos said with no emotion.

Janoss growled softly. “Shirai’s
memstation?”

Instead of getting an answer, Natianos moved
towards the windows of the office, and snapped back into Light.
Shuddering, Janoss followed moments later.

They now stood on the escape walkway of the
hundred forty-second floor, the first few drops of an impending
rainfall splashing against their skins. Janoss blinked a raindrop
out of his right eye and looked around, searching for Natianos. He
had expected him to be out here, the same spot where Nehalé Usarai
had stood days before. Nehalé’s spirit signature still permeated
this spot, a tightening of the air much like that which preceded a
lightning strike. Janoss flexed his paws, uncomfortable with
standing out in the open.

Dahné?
He looked around again, but could not see him.

You are here, but not
here,
was the answer Natianos gave him,
his voice eerily not where it should be.
Come further into Light, Janoss.

Janoss frowned, shifting his kiralla form.
“I already am, Dahné.”

Natianos let out a quick
laugh.
Not fully, my friend.

He felt a shove from behind, and before he
could whirl around and grab at something to keep from falling, he
pitched back and felt his left foot sliding off of the escape
walkway…the last solid thing he felt before his descent into
Light.

 

*

 

“Wh…where are we?” Janoss said, blinking
hard, his eyes attempting to refocus. He was standing in a field of
grass stalks somewhere in the Wilderlands, overlooking a dark green
valley full of pine trees. This field stood on top of a smooth
slope leading west, perhaps towards the Inland Provinces, the
eastern and southern slopes obscured by a vast forest of pines. The
only sounds he heard was the rustle of windblown branches and the
occasional twittering of birds. Compared to the center of the city,
this was a blessed silence.

“We’re past the veil,” Natianos replied.

Janoss turned around. Natianos stood behind
him, back in human form, adjusting a cufflink and glancing back at
him with just a touch of impatience. Janoss looked down at his
hands; he’d changed back to his own human self as well, wearing the
same suit he’d been wearing all day. There was something odd about
being here, though…as if the freedom he felt while in the
Shenaihuza spirit had replicated itself here. He felt utterly at
peace with his own skin for once. The tightness of the air, the
spot Nehalé had stood, had eased, replaced by a calm breeze that
flowed through him, easing every muscle in his body. It felt
familiar…he’d been here before, been in this situation. “This isn’t
an aspect I’m used to,” he said. “Have we traveled?”

“Indeed we have,” Natianos smiled. “It’s
Trisanda. Our birth, Janoss. Where the Shenaihuza and the
Mendaihuza are one.”

Janoss shuddered, but said
nothing. Did Natianos always have the ability to reach this far in
his travels? Very few could reach this far without assistance or
years of training or assistance…or unless their abilities were
enhanced somehow. It had to have been Nehalé Usarai’s doing.
Natianos must have realized this much earlier than he had, and must
have started testing his limits soon after. Janoss was impressed,
but he didn’t want to let Natianos know, not just yet. Instead, he
took a slow sweeping view, taking in every detail of what he saw
and sensed. Visually it was like any other place in the Wilderlands
north of the city: a healthy forest on the verge of changing its
autumnal colors, a field of wild grass rolling gently in the
breeze, a clear blue sky…nothing out of the ordinary. On a more
sensory level, however, he could feel it: a flow of energy he could
read and touch, emanating from everything around him, from the
blades of wild grass at his feet to the trees at the edge of the
field, even to Natianos standing beside him, reminding him that
this was his ancestral home, where his spirit truly belonged, no
matter how far it may travel. A familiarity, a spiritual bond of
oneness with everything around him that only a true
Meraladhza
could feel.
It had to be Trisanda.

“We have all Awakened,” Natianos said with a
smile. “Some more than others, you know. Nehalé planned this more
thoroughly than I’d thought. He awakened us all, Mendaihu and
Shenaihu.” He laughed, lifting his head up to take in the view.
“You and I came up here by Lightwalking, Janoss. Like our ancestors
once did. Our past is slowly catching up with us. We’re finally
remembering our past again. Nehalé certainly has leveled the
playing field, hasn’t he? Just like his Vigil friends. Anyone can
come up here now, if they’re willing to learn how. Do you know what
this means?”

Of course Janoss knew what
it meant, and measured his words before he spoke.
If the
Awakening ritual had done what Nehalé had planned it to do, the
girl would now be coming out of hibernation and setting everything
else in motion. And if she’d been awakened, it was imperative that
the right souls surrounded her, to ensure the delicate balance
between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu remained steady.
“It means the One of All Sacred has been awakened as well,”
he said.

Natianos beamed. “We need her to keep her
from ascending, Janoss,” he said. “If she ascends, then the balance
is lost.”

Janoss shivered at the
thought. He wholeheartedly agreed…but for precisely the opposite
reason. She could not ascend, because that would not just tip the
balance, but completely
eradicate
it.
“I already have
people looking,” he offered weakly.

Natianos took his gaze off the sky for a
moment and smiled appreciatively at him.

 

*

 

Nehalé stood on the mezzanine of an old
order processing station, looking out over the hundreds of people
milling about on the warehouse floor below. Anando stood beside
him, toying with the mixing board they’d jerry-rigged to the
intercom system just an hour before, and gave him the thumbs-up to
start whenever he felt ready. He wished he had the kid’s optimism
at that moment, as his own had inexplicably vanished. He’d plotted
out this very moment for ages, including when he would give a
brilliant speech to these devout followers of the One, but now that
the time was here…words had failed him. He had the general idea, of
course…that would be found in the unspoken words, the ones he’d be
speaking within, underneath everything else. Oh, if he only had the
gift of words like Reverend Miriam! Perhaps that was how to
start…get their spirit’s attention first, then worry about the
spoken words when he got to them.

Somfei, edha d’ emha…mehridea shadha di
nyhndah…dehndarra Né hra nyhndah.

The noise in the room immediately dropped
down to a whisper as every single body down there stopped what they
were doing and faced him. That seemed to get their attention…he
cleared his throat nervously, turned on the mic and began.

“I am Nehalé Usarai,” he said aloud. “Peace,
Love, and Light to all of you.”

He stopped again, closing his eyes, and
thought of how Miriam had entranced his parishioners at the church
yesterday. If he could take hold of his audience…if he could
capture the hearts and souls standing below him…he took a deep
breath, reaching out with his soul. He wished for them to listen.
If his words were less than perfect, then his spirit would talk for
him. He opened up his eyes and began again.

“First of all…what I say to you now is of
utmost importance. Since the Awakening, there has been an
incredible surge in the number of Mendaihu and Shenaihu sensitives
in Bridgetown and in surrounding provinces. I am assuming that most
of you understand, or at least have some grasp on the changes you
are going through. There are those who stand next to you, however,
who are scared or confused…they have been given an overwhelming
strength, and knowledge they never knew they could acquire. I urge
you, my brothers and sisters, to embrace them; give them that
knowledge they deserve.

“Many of you are asking…why have we been
awakened? Why do we stand here, listening to this apparent madman,
this anarchist? Why was I brought here?

“I tell you now,
eicho d’ eichi,
that
you are not alone. Your spirits were awakened to celebrate the
coming of the One of All Sacred. She is here, within us, at this
very moment. She is all of us, in her purest form. She is space,
she is time…she is the
Universes
. And she has come
again.”

A collective gasp and the sound of inner
voices surged towards him.
The One…? Oh Goddess she’s returned!
We have been saved!
The surge of emotion washed over him like a
tidal wave, knocking him back. He rushed to recapture his own
emotions in the deluge, their joy so similar to his own. He blinked
tears away as he leaned forward over the railing, catching his
breath. He had expected this reaction from many of the people here;
those who followed the One of All Sacred faithfully, Mendaihu and
Shenaihu alike, and those who had some degree of familiarity with
their faith, had come willingly and without question. Those who
could not understand the sudden jubilation stood ashen-faced,
confused and more than a little scared. These were the uninformed,
the ones who had never been taught the secrets of the Mendaihu, the
Shenaihu, and the One.

They would be his first pupils, when the
time came.

“You have come of your own will,” he
continued, “out of your own volition, to this warehouse in the most
disregarded and unorganized sector of Bridgetown, to become part of
a grand awakening. We come here to the Waterfront to congregate and
praise the return of the One, but
not
to build an army to
fight our enemies. Our fate was never to fight amongst each other.
Our fate is to protect Gharra and the One of All Sacred at all
costs from those who would destroy them. If that means we must
eventually go into battle, so be it…but that is
not
our
fate. We will not fight if there is no reason for it.”

He took advantage of the pause in his sermon
to take another breath, and to observe the crowd again. The inner
voices had calmed down to a murmur, taking his words to heart.
“Some of you are questioning our motives,” he continued. “I can
sense your wariness, and I don’t blame you. Why are we not
attacking the nuhm’ndah? We were provoked, I can attest to that. I
was witness to this provocation, yesterday at St. Patrick’s Church,
and I can tell you that parishioners within the church did nothing
to warrant such a blatant attack.

“I understand that some of you were in the
area of Sculler’s Crossing, just over a mile from here…you had lost
eighteen Mendaihu and five Shenaihu. I understand that family
members of those twenty-three are here today in this warehouse. My
heart goes out to all of you…
nyhnd’aladh,
do not
misunderstand me. I know your pain, and I pray for your healing. I
can only wish that our mission of peace will eventually come to
fruition, and no more lives, no more spirits will be lost. I firmly
believe that the One of All Sacred knows this as well, and that is
her aim.”

An unexpected roar of applause filled the
warehouse. Nehalé smiled broadly at them, placing his hand over his
chest in a gesture of heartfelt appreciation, but his joy was
short-lived. He had padded his sermon enough to keep these people
calm and attentive, but eventually he’d have to explain why they
had been drawn here in the first place. A good number of these
people were going to be upset to find that they had come here on
their own volition and not by some kind of summoning. He knew from
experience the unsettling feeling of helplessness when a spirit
chose its own path regardless of the person’s logic or emotion.

“As it stands, the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu
are at an impasse. They want control over the One of All Sacred. We
of course do not control her, but we do have her under our
protection. I tell you now, that they will not stop until they have
her. I cannot tell you to what lengths they will go to obtain her,
but we must be vigilant! We must remain so, until the threat has
passed. They will not have her!

“So I tell you now, dear friends, my
sehnadha
. We are here, in this warehouse, in order to
defend. I know this, my friends, because
she is coming
here.

The crowd stopped chattering and clapping,
and gaped at him in stunned silence. Only moments later was the
silence broken, first by a few brave spirits willing to voice their
true feelings. Then all at once, everyone began speaking again in a
sudden storm of excitement and surprise:
The One…coming here? To
us? She’s…she’s coming? Is she here now?

“She is
not
here at the moment,” he
said above the din in his head, waving his hands down at them. “But
before the day is done, she will come.”

He could say no more, as the room suddenly
erupted into cheers and cries of joy once more. Another surge of
emotion washed over him, and he could not brace himself against it.
He let it flow freely through his own essence this time, leaning
against the railing and laughing. How else could he react? Having
nothing more to say at that moment, Nehalé backed away from the
edge of the mezzanine and sat down on one of the desks behind him.
He closed his eyes, exhaled, and laid his hands on his lap.

We are here, my dearest One
, he
whispered within himself.
We are waiting.

 

*

 

Father,
Saone whispered to herself.
I shall not let you down.

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