A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (45 page)

He completely understood, and closed his
eyes…

*

…and opened them again a second later, to
find himself in a wide field in the middle of a forest, lined with
grass as high as his hips, and a breathtakingly blue sky above.
There were small, square clearings in this field, each connected by
a long, curving path that led away into the forest. Each clearing
had a discoloration where the deep green grass had turned a wheaty
brown and formed unique shapes and symbols. He recognized these
symbols as the emblems of the Clans of Trisanda…a few yards to his
left, he saw the triple arc of the Lehanna clan, and a little
farther on he saw the twin diamonds of Mancka’s clan of Udéma. He
and Mancka stood in the center of two intersecting circles, used
for many things: the Shalei clan, the sigil of the Mendaihu, and
the Trisandi symbol for duality.

Trisanda,
he thought. This was not
Earth that he stood on now, he could tell just by sensing. This was
an altogether different place. The dread he had felt upon entering
the Light had vanished as soon as he had taken his first breath of
naturally clean air.

“We are where we need to be,” Mancka said to
his right.

“I thought so,” he answered, smiling. He had
not been that surprised that they would end up here; in fact he was
quite pleased. He’d only been up here in dreams, visiting his
lumisha dea, but never physically. He had never mastered
Lightwalking long distances. “The spirit winds feel very clean
here,” he said.

She laughed. “One way to see it, Nehalé. I
brought you here because I need your True Self to answer this last
question. Come…there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She took his
hand and led him to the eastern edge of the field.

The sun shone behind them at a lazy angle,
suggesting it was late afternoon. She wordlessly pointed out
various things as she saw them…the clear blue sky above them, a
gundaevi that had stopped at the edge of the field to watch them,
and a bird that resembled a crow as it soared above the tree line.
Nehalé drank all of this scenery in and felt the most contented
he’d ever been in his life.

Hra khera, hra mehra…at peace,
he
thought to himself.
This is the true homeworld, for it is at
peace.

When they came to the edge of the field, the
grass sloped down slightly and gave way to the forest in front of
them. The footpaths had all converged at a clearing in the woods
and joined a dirt road that wound deeper into the forest, though
any signs of transportation other than by foot had long since
vanished. This path curved as often as it lifted and dipped on the
wild terrain, and soon he wasn’t sure which direction he was
headed.

“Where exactly are we going?” he asked, but
Mancka said nothing, keeping it a surprise. Nehalé didn’t mind. If
it meant staying longer on this wondrous planet, he had no problems
with that.

After a few more turns, Mancka abruptly
stopped and left the road. This second path, which had made itself
visible after a few yards, rode a gentle curve and dropped down
slightly as it went on before emerging on another clearing a good
few hundred yards away. It was here that Nehalé suddenly picked up
the scent of burning wood and cooked meat, and he suddenly realized
he hadn’t eaten in hours. The thought of carnivorous people on
Trisanda confused him for a moment, as it went against a
longstanding myth, but only until the aroma grew stronger. The
burning, cooking meat of a beast grew stronger with each step he
took. His stomach began to rumble.

“She is here,” Mancka said as they walked
into another and much smaller field, this one filled with shorter,
darker grass, as if it had been someone’s back yard. At the other
end of this field he saw a giant bonfire, the trails of grayish
white smoke lifting up into the sky. Near the bonfire was a long
table, with perhaps twenty or so people sitting around it. Above
the sound of crackling fire, Nehalé could just barely make out
voices talking, their voices just above whispering. Mancka moved
faster now, eager to see whomever it was they were meeting. Perhaps
she had visited Trisanda countless times already and knew this
woman well?

“…
dehndarra Né hra nyhndah,
” she
said, when they came close enough to be heard and noticed by those
at the table. They all turned nearly in unison, most of them in
midbite, and nodded or waved their hellos. A tall, thinly bearded
man with light hair stood and dropped his satchel on the table next
to his plate, and made his way to them.

“Welcome to the Great Table,” he said in
Terran English but with a very heavy Mannaki accent. “I trust your
travels were without incident? My name is Dolan Usara. Please, make
yourselves comfortable.” He gestured towards two spots on the long
bench near the end of the Great Table. Nehalé sat down across from
Mancka, relishing the chance to rest his aching feet, and Dolan
left to retrieve their host.

“Usara…” Nehalé said. “I sense he is a
cousin of mine.”

Mancka nodded. “And I’m sure he senses the
same thing. No need for introductions here, Nehalé. If they don’t
know you by name, they certainly know you by spirit now.”

“They rely on spiritsensing that much here?”
he said, more as an observation than a question.

“A taste of what used to be,” she said
wistfully. “And what may come.”

He considered that a playfully underhanded
comment and chose not to reply back.

Minutes later, after someone had graciously
handed them goblets filled with a sweet-tasting concoction for them
to drink, Dolan returned with a young woman in tow, a thin and
frail-looking woman whose face was hidden from them by the hood of
her robe. Long, full and fiery red hair streamed out from its
corners, coming down past her breasts. She held a half-filled glass
of the same sweet wine between thin, delicate fingers. Mancka
quickly stood up to greet her.

“No, Mancka my dearest…” the woman said, her
voice soft and kind. She held up a hand to motion her back down.
“Don’t get up on my behalf. I shall join you.” She took a seat
between them at the very end of the table. It was then that she
pulled the rolls of the robe’s hood back to rest on her shoulders.
Nehalé caught his breath and stared at the young and startlingly
beautiful woman smiling back at him. Sparkling hazel eyes looked
down upon him with compassion and peacefulness. “Greetings,
Nehalé,” she said, and rested a gentle hand on his. “It is
wonderful to meet you. I’ve heard many great things.”

“You have?” He blushed, awestruck by her
beauty, warmed by her touch, and embarrassed by his complete lack
of nerve.

“I am emha-sehndayen-ne Eprysia, Nehalé. I
hear
everything
,” she said. “I am Ampryss, the Listener of
Souls. I listen to all the spirits that originate from Trisanda, so
you can well imagine that there are more voices in my head than one
could ever wish for.” She smiled at her own self-effacing joke, and
took a sip from her glass. “I am not a Judge, Nehalé, but merely a
soulhealer and, to some extent, a guardian.”

Nehalé brightened. “Ah! Ampryss! I have
heard your name spoken in many Mendaihu circles.” He covered her
hand with his in a sudden wave of renewed bravado. “It is a
pleasure to finally meet you!”

Ampryss nodded in acceptance and flashed a
wide smile at him. “You are here, my eicho, because you have put
certain things in motion on Gharra that were a long time
coming…things that should have taken place much earlier, but that
is neither here nor there. I have been talking with the young woman
who has recently Awakened. The dear child is The One of All Sacred
in its ninth embodiment, as you are well aware.”

“Yes,” he managed. “I have felt her
presence.”

“I will speak her True Name, Nehalé, for I
now know she is truly the One of All Sacred in her Ninth
Embodiment. Her name is Denysia Shalei si Emmadha si Dhumélis, and
she is a direct descendant of the Imperial tribe of Shalei. There
has not been an Imperial since the second Mannaki embodiment, Andra
Mayden, at least eight hundred Gharné years earlier. She is also
the first truly Gharné embodiment.”

“So I understand,” he said.

“Therefore, it is
imperative
that you
guard her with all that you are, Nehalé. There are forces out there
who wish her dead.”

“Yes, I know.”

Ampryss’ hand tightened around his. “I’m
afraid you don’t, my friend. At least, you don’t understand
fully
. It is more than just the beliefs of two ancient
tribes from Trisanda. It is more than just the Mendaihu versus the
Shenaihu.”

Nehalé bowed his head. “I know that as well,
Ampryss. That is why I performed the Awakening when and how I did.
There are forces…
spiritual
forces on both sides that want
Denysia, dead or alive, for their own reasons. I am yet to learn
what their motives are, however.” Lifting his eyes to her, he was
surprised to find her wincing and shaking her head at him.

“Nehalé, my little eicho…” she said sadly.
“My dear, it is far, far more than that. What you have done…this
‘awakening,’ as you call it…has released more than you are willing
to admit, even to yourself. These spiritual forces you speak of are
inside all of us, you see…every Trisandi, every Meraladhza, every
Mannaki…and by consequence, every Gharné. In awakening the One, you
have, in essence, awakened most of Gharra in the process, and it is
continuing. Do you realize the extent of what you’ve done?”

In truth, he hadn’t. How could he have
known? How could anyone? He was only fulfilling the prophecy of
Kindeiya Shalei and that of the One of All Sacred. He needed no
higher answer. He had only imagined the consequences of his actions
up to the point that the awakening would have affected the
immediate Bridgetown Province, perhaps further out, perhaps to
NewCanta and other sprawls, but no further than that. He had vastly
underestimated the situation, perhaps dangerously, and that had
been the source of his current sadness. The Embodiment of the One
was so much more than just the beliefs of two ancient tribes.

“I’m beginning to understand,” he answered.
“But perhaps there is a way I can ensure we do not descend into
chaos?”

Ampryss smiled proudly at him. “Of course
there is. You must find the source of this opposing force, and join
with it.”

Nehalé was not expecting that. “
Join
with Natianos Lehanna? We’d end up killing each other first!” He
had not meant to say that aloud, but he was too shocked to hold it
back. Never had the Shenaihu and the Mendaihu ever come to lasting,
peaceful terms with each other. But he had to remind himself:
they’re the same as us, Nehalé…we’re both the same
. He
needed to believe that before he could even start to logically find
a solution to this problem. How was he to meet Natianos Lehanna and
explain what happened and how they both could come to terms with
it? He was sure that he wouldn’t even get past his underling,
Janoss Miradesi, without more bloodshed…

“I understand your unwillingness to mend
what you have torn apart,” Ampryss said, cutting into his thoughts.
“But you must have faith, dear Nehalé. I have seen this faith in
you before, as you defended a house of worship. Your strength lies
in that faith.”

Finally, Nehalé lowered his head again in
acceptance. Ampryss still held his hand, though not as tight as
before, and now stroked it lightly in an attempt to soothe his
defeat.

“He will not accept your reasoning at
first,” she continued. “And your path will most likely be blocked
by others who will not agree to your terms. Do not think ill of
them, but do not dismiss them as harmless, either.” She paused,
cupping a hand under his chin and lifting it to hers. She looked
deep within his eyes and witnessed his fear…the uncertainty of what
lay ahead, and silently prayed for him. “There will also be forces
that you do not understand, forces that could be the death of you
and those around you, Nehalé. You
must
remember that, above
all else. I suggest you at least keep your senses aware.”

With that, she stood; Mancka and Nehalé
joined her as she began walking towards the other end of the table.
Halfway down, she turned and took Nehalé’s hands. “I grant you
Peace, Love and Light, Nehalé. You have strength beyond your own
imagination; I know you can do all that I ask.”

On impulse, Nehalé grasped her hands and
kissed them. “I shall do all you ask, dearest Ampryss. Thank you
for the illumination. Peace, Love and Light to you as well.”

*

The sun began to set when Nehalé and Mancka
reached the edge of the larger field where they had arrived
earlier. The sky had begun to glow in the many shades of dusk, from
the rich oranges and reds of the clouded horizon to the deep navy
blue of twilight, the first of thousands of stars making their
presence known. Nehalé gazed up at them, wondering where in this
universe the great and wondrous Gharra spun silently and serenely,
despite the tensions on its surface.

Answering his unspoken question, Mancka
looked up herself, squinted in deep thought as her eyes skimmed
over starpoints, and eventually landed on a milky-white smudge in
the south-eastern sky, halfway towards the horizon. “Gharra
System,” she said, her voice no more than a murmur. “Hiding
somewhere in the Milky Way…right about…
there
.”

He looked up and stared at that smudge for a
good few minutes. There, in that corner of the sky, was his
physical home, where his family and friends were. Where all the
souls he’d known resided. He felt…not exactly humbled, but a little
less alone now.

She smiled at him and tugged at his sleeve.
“Come, Nehalé. We must get back to the warehouse.”

Nehalé nodded and followed her to the
Trisandi duality symbol in the center of the field. He found the
sigil more symbolic than serendipitous as he stepped into it,
closed his eyes with a satisfied grin, as all became Light.