“No, no, don't go. Please. Don't do it!” Brunus interjected. Moltil and Zalbia turned to look at him. Zalbia's little brother was a few years younger than them. His lips trembled as his spoke, his face dripping with sweat, since all of that running was just too much for his chubby body. “You s-saw what they're capable of. If they see us, we'll all d-die.”
“Brunus, they're my people. These are my subjects, who I will rule over. This is why I was born. You two don't have to come with me if you don't want to. You can just stay here and hide.”
Zalbia raised her voice a little more than she intended to: “Moltil, you're setting yourself up for suicide! Can't you see? The only ones who are going to survive are those who can stay hidden! Look at their astroships! Look at their weapons! If your father and mother and brothers are dead and you throw yourself towards death, then who will be left to govern the survivors?”
Moltil bit his lip. They had started running after the screams from the palace had awoken them in the middle of the night. They had used tunnels, secret doors and all kinds of hiding places. Every time, as soon as those calm and incessant footsteps came closer, they had run away.
Brunus shook him out of his thoughts: “M-maybe they don't want to eliminate us.”
Moltil and Zalbia turned to look at him, questioningly.
“They p-passed right by us already so many times...it seems as if they're ignoring us. M-maybe they only want to k-kill the g-grownups.”
Moltil wanted to answer but Zalbia beat him to it: “He's right. That's why we're still alive. They're not looking for us. They don't want us.”
“But...” Moltil began before the sound of footsteps at the bottom of the staircase stopped him cold.
Zalbia headed towards the door to their right, which opened into a long corridor.
Brunus followed her and, reluctantly, Moltil. The three children ran down the wide hallway flooded with sunlight. To their left, through a giant glass window, they could see the three flying ships, immobile and menacing. To their right, splendid tapestries depicted the ancient rulers of the kingdom.
Halfway down the hallway, a door just in front of them stood wide open.
Zalbia instinctively opened another door hidden behind the luxurious tapestry. It led to a tiny room used as a storage space, where the servants stacked chairs whenever royal balls were held in the main hall.
The three children got in and shut the door, standing in the darkness.
“Shh...” Zalbia whispered. Only the incessant chattering of Brunus' teeth could be heard.
“Calm down, little brother,” his sister whispered in his ear.
Moltil was standing to her right, frozen. She took his hand in hers, sincerely hoping the young prince wouldn't try to do anything rash.
The sound of footsteps rang outside the door, then stopped near them.
What, are they admiring the tapestries? Zalbia wondered.
“What do you think, should we kill them?” asked a man's voice.
“Orders are orders. We're only doing our job,” responded a woman's voice, drily.
“Of course, but still, we've had relations with these people for thousands of years. That sort of punishment seems a little excessive to me, don't you think?”
“They didn't respect the treaty. They did what they wanted without consulting anyone else. They're the ones responsible for this river of innocent blood.”
“I know, but if we keep going on like this, we won't have any more allies around here.”
“It's just as well. The only thing we get from the North are headaches. Come on, let's go. If you really like these tapestries so much, we can send a squad to collect them for you later.”
The footsteps resumed, coming closer to the door and then moving onwards.
Zalbia let out a sigh of relief; she could feel Brunus was about to explode.
“Wait, I'm getting a signal from the ship,” the woman said.
“Where?”
“There.” she indicated.
The steps came back to the hiding place. Brunus started to whimper.
“No,” his sister whispered in his ear. “Please, not now.”
The steps stopped in front of the door.
“How do you open this thing?” the man asked.
A few seconds of silence.
“Step aside,” she said. The door disappeared and the room was bathed in light. Zalbia instinctively looked over at Moltil, sure her friend would jump on the two invaders. But the boy was frozen, terrorized, his eyes wild.
“Again?” the woman exclaimed. Then she added, as if she were talking to an invisible being in front of them: “It's the same three kids as before. Please deactivate these three signals or we'll never get done here.”
Incredulous, Zalbia watched the man and woman leave their field of vision.
16
Lil looked at her husband's peaceful face. Contrary to her expectations, Bashinoir still hadn't woken up. Miril and Lil had discussed leaving the Temple. Neither could go out for an extended period of time, and Lil finally understood why. But she didn't want to venture out by herself either, although there were animals to look after and winter crops to harvest. Their survival depended on those types of tasks. She also wanted to see what had happened to her old home. But she couldn't bring herself to go alone.
Lil had spent the past few days taking care of a few minor chores around the Temple, tidying up the kitchen and some of the rooms.
Meanwhile, Miril had spent most of her time in the rooms tucked away deep within the building's depths. Whenever their paths crossed, the priestess would force herself to exchange a few friendly words, yet it was obvious she was exhausted. Lil wondered how Miril could survive while bearing a burden which, until just a few days earlier, had been shared between her and the priest.
Lil felt very much alone.
Is this how it's going to be from now on? There were only three of them left and, just to survive, they'd have to work very hard. Bashinoir would need to do things it normally took dozens of men to do. Miril would have her hands full with the magic rites necessary for their protection. As for Lil, well...she wasn't really sure what would be required of her.
Looking at Bashinoir's placid expression, Lil suddenly felt a pang of guilt. Had she been a good wife? Yes, it was true, she had purposely done a few things to inspire his jealousy now and again, but deep down she had always loved him with all of her heart, and their marriage had, until that fateful day, been content and fulfilling. A few months earlier she and her husband had actually started discussing the idea of children. Bashinoir's eyes shone whenever he talked about expanding the family, and for Lil, becoming a mother would mean achieving one of her biggest dreams.
But now the life of a priestess awaited her. How could she explain this to him? And how would he take it? A few days earlier, almost everything they had lived for had tragically disappeared in front of their eyes, and now, all that he had left – his wife – would also be taken away from him.
“Lil, I'm sorry I couldn't join you for dinner. I had to rebalance the energies, they've decreased far too much over the last few days. But now everything's back to normal.”
Those sorts of matters still sounded foreign to Lil. Yet Miril talked about them naturally, as if she were referring to things both of them knew.
Lil had prepared dinner for both of them, and even though Miril was late, she had decided to wait for her before eating.
“Lil, have you had a chance to think about what I asked you?”
Actually, I haven't thought about anything but that. “Yes, Miril.” she answered, hesitant.
“So what do you think?” Miril urged in a serious tone of voice.
Lil looked at her, surprised. She had never been asked to express her own opinion regarding big decisions. She wanted to explain her thoughts to Miril, but she couldn't find the right words.
“Lil, you're an adult. The initiation process isn't the same as it is for newborns. For a baby, it's purely sponta
neous: a child who starts down this path of consciousness picks everything up quite naturally. There will probably be very heavy resistance coming from inside of you. In any case, the most important thing is that you're convinced you want to do it. Even though it may seem like something you absolutely have to do, unless you're fully committed, it'll be impossible to go forward, and we won't be able to bring you to the level you need to reach in order to do what's necessary. Take some more time to think about it, Lil. We can only begin when you really want to start.”
Inside her own mind, Lil reacted strongly to Miril's words. Feeling obligated had made everything seem simple: she would have preferred to tell her husband that, for the good of the island and the preservation of its magical protections, she had to become a priestess. How could she tell him that it was also her choice? What words could she use to explain that? There are only three of us left and I decided to leave you to become a priestess – or Sorry, I know you've lost everyone you ever loved and every dream you ever had in life, but I've recently decided to spend my future serving the gods.
No, she didn't want the opportunity to choose. If this was going to happen, it would happen because it's what the priestess and the elders wanted, in order to maintain the magical protections that shielded the island from the evil forces that had been lurking in the shadows for centuries. Forces which, at least as far as she could tell, had finally found a little crack they could slip through. No, she needed to feel obligated.
“Miril, I'll do what I have to do. If I need to become a priestess for the good of the island, if that is my destiny, if that is what you're asking me to do, if that is what the gods want from me, then I'll do it,” Lil stated, delivering her words all in one breath as she feared that, once she paused, she wouldn't have the courage to continue.
A moan came from behind the two women. They turned around, fearing that Bashinoir had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Eyes wide open, he returned their gaze. His face was full of bewilderment, pain, and resignation.
Miril calmly looked back at him. Lil felt her heart ache. How long has he been awake for? Did he hear everything? Does he already know? My husband...my lover, my sweet, strong, brave, darling husband.
She didn't want to cry, but she couldn't hold the tears back from streaming down her face.
Bashinoir wanted to move closer to her. He tried to get up, but was still too weak. The priestess Miril went to examine his wound.
17
Tuirl entered the large bathroom. The humidity smothered his face and, for a moment, he had trouble breathing. “A-hem,” he cleared his throat, trying to announce his presence indirectly.
“What do you want now?” King Beanor brusquely barked.
The room was circular. Tall columns lined half of its perimeter, and from the other side, steam curled up from the hot water of a gigantic pool.
Two of the king's wives laid comfortably on the side of the pool, at the mercy of the royal masseurs. In the water, lying next to the king, another two wives rubbed their hands, lips, and tongues all over the monarch's body. Beanor shook his leg and a fifth girl emerged from the water right in front of him.
Tuirl turned around, embarrassed.
“Say something, why don't you! What do you want to bother me with now?”
The father did nothing but tend to royal affairs, day and night. But his son just hops from one orgy to another! Tuirl bitterly reflected.
The young lady to Beanor's right moved her tongue along his neck all the way to his earlobe, which she began to nibble. The other woman submerged in the water began playing with the curly locks of his hairy chest.
“Stop, stop. Don't you see I have more important things to do now?” the king protested, roughly shoving them away.
Ignoring what he just said, the women went right back to what they had been doing. They weren't going to waste a chance to win the favors of their husband and king. There were plenty of wives, and it wasn't every day that each had her turn to be with him.
Doling out a few slaps, the king wriggled free and made his way up the stairs, leaving the water. The wives looked disappointed. If their time had been interrupted so soon, they probably wouldn't get any little gifts. The youngest, who had the fewest jewels and wanted them much more badly than her older colleagues, tried everything she could to pounce upon the partially erect member of the king, who merely stepped aside.
“Come on, advisor. Start talking before these mewling cats attack me.”
Proud of his virility, Beanor moved towards Tuirl, who was trying to decide where he should direct his gaze.
“You asked me to immediately report any news from the magical experiments.”
“Right. So?”
“The wizard Obolil told me that he and the apprentice were able to assess the situation on the island. It actually appears as if no one remains living on the surface.”
“All dead, all dead. Finally, we've exterminated them!” Beanor triumphantly interrupted him. “Those worms! It took two thousand years, but we did it! And it was Beanor who succeeded in accomplishing what all of his forefathers had failed to do!”
Tuirl doubted that the credit would be attributed to the king in the long run, but decided it would be wiser to drop the matter.
“So why is the barrier still there?” Beanor suddenly asked, realizing that something didn't add up.
“If you will allow me to continue, I was actually going to tell you that, in fact, the Temple is still emitting strong energies.”
“What does that mean? Get to the point before I cut off your head and throw the rest of your body down the toilet.” The excitement of a few seconds ago had disappeared. Beanor would be glad to unleash his anger upon the imbecile standing before him.
“It means, your Majesty, that someone may indeed remain inside of the Temple – meaning someone must have escaped the massacre orchestrated by Aldin.”
“Someone in the Temple? Who?”
“Unfortunately, Obolil and Ilis weren't able to answer that question. As you know, even in the astral dimension, we are unable to overcome that barrier. And the energies of the Temple blocked every attempt to investigate its interior.”
“So we need to wait for those little rodents to come out, then.”
“That's precisely what Obolil recommended.”
“Then we need to make sure that, whenever they do leave, one of our two wizards is waiting for them.”
“Your Majesty, it will probably take some time.”
“Tuirl! Have you lost your mind?” Beanor interjected. His temper flaring, he approached the advisor with his fists raised.
Instinctively, Tuirl took a few steps back, pressing his back against a column.
“They'll take turns, one at night, one at day. One of them must always have their eyes glued on that goddamn island.”
“But your Majesty, you know that such abuse of astral travel would entail serious risks for the health of the wizards. It would also consume their vital energies. It's hard to say what the consequences would be.”
“The sooner the barrier comes down, the sooner we'll enjoy the benefits. We've been trying to end our isolation for two thousand years. I'm not waiting any longer. Send the guards out to make sure the wizards do what I just said they should do.”
“Your Majesty, that may be counterproductive.”
“Are you questioning my orders?” Beanor asked in a threatening tone, moving towards Tuirl. The advisor braced himself against the column. Beanor leaned in, breathing just a few inches away from the advisor's face.
“No, of course not. I'll immediately arrange for the guards to take their positions,” the elderly man whispered in a tiny voice.
18
Bashinoir couldn't sleep. Lil and Miril had spent a lot of time taking care of him. He had cooperated as they washed him, dressed him in clean clothes, changed his bandages, and tended to the wounds all over his body.
His wife had remained silent, probably embarrassed by what he had overheard them ta
lking about, when they thought he was still sleeping.
The priestess had seemed as calm as usual. After a little while, they had urged him to get some rest.
His wife, a priestess! For the good of the island! Bashinoir could hardly believe it, and he understood what that meant. No part of his former life had gone unchanged; none of the little pleasures that used to warm his heart, in spite of the difficult circumstances of everyday life, remained. And now he would have to lose her: Lil.
When they had taken refuge in the Temple after the dramatic events that had exterminated almost the entire population, although there were only three of them left, he had assumed that at least he and Lil could still have children. One way or another, they or their descendents would have found a way to survive and maybe even leave the island.
He never would have imagined that, by such a strange twist of fate, he wouldn't have any descendents, that he and Lil wouldn't have any babies. They had survived. Really, they had survived. Wasn't that a sign from the gods?
Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case.
Why had they waited for so long? They had everything they needed. Bashinoir and Lil owned a house, though it was just a single room built around a hearth. Yet they had both assumed that, before having children, they would build a bigger and better place with more rooms. He had gone to build the new structure every day after he finished work, before the sun went down. Together, they had gone looking for the new location where they were going to live. When, excited, they had found the cliff with the breathtaking view, they knew they had found it: that would be where they would welcome their family into this world. The village was just a 5-minute walk away, and there was a tidy little path that led down to the seashore, where they could go fishing.
Everything was almost ready. An elder had even advised him that the ideal time to conceive their first child would be right after the new moon.
But then those horrendous rock shards had hammered down upon his people. His marriage was over, and Lil would never give him any children.