He stood upon the balcony, the wind wailing like wraiths around the cold mountain. He had built his tower right into the mountain and had moved parts of the mountain back until it was like a stone hand curled around a black staff. Tall and skeletal, the priest was as robed and cloaked as the Grim Reaper--and he might have been happy with the comparison if he could have accessed the folk images. For though his hoarded knowledge was probably the greatest on the planet, most knowledge of the old cultures was hidden throughout Haven and always well guarded. His followers zealously searched for remnants, sometimes finding a few pages, the odd drawing, or the extremely rare treasure from the other world. He held such an item in his hands now, a translucent half globe, which he needed to deliver to the oracle.
Even in quiet moments of sheer beauty like this one, looking down upon the realm, Nardak felt a hunger to know more. He was driven to fill the tower with more scrolls and books, and his mind with greater knowledge and lore.
The view down to the fields and villages below was indeed beautiful, the stone walls and structures of the City of Lak visible in the distance. Behind the mountain, visible from the topmost point of the tower was a tarn, vaguely shaped like a hawk with outstretched wings spanning a mile with the tail-feather-like contour merging right into the base of the mountain. The forest surrounding the tarn was the domain of the Order of the Oracle, but every few years, barbarians were discovered scouring the terrain for spirit items in their relentless zeal to rid the world of all vestiges of the other world.
Nardak felt the familiar tightening in his stomach that always came before meeting with the oracle—not quite of fear or hope, but still a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. The ritual stages of the encounters always helped to ease his uncertainty. He did not go empty handed, for he had a new artifact to place upon the altar. As he descended the stairs into the heart of the mountain, he gripped the new hemisphere tightly. The smooth surface of strange material that composed the half globe was cool in his fingers. As he reached the familiar indentation just before the tunnel forked, he spoke the words the oracle had taught him from the other world:
"Ong namo
Guru dev namo"
The oracle had assured Nardak that only he, in the whole world of Haven, knew these spirit words. The door slid open silently and closed behind him. Like the translucent hemisphere and the opaque walls of this cave, the door was smooth as glass and hard as rock. Nardak settled the hemisphere onto a keystone affixed to an altar where he kneeled. He snuffed out his torch as the spirit glow brightened within the half orb and within the chamber.
"I am here, Wind of Haven."
"Don't you remember my name?" The oracle said. "Last time I taught you my true name."
"Yes, Sara."
"I really thought we had an affinity, that we had made progress." The voice of the oracle was like that of a noble woman or an angel—softly spoken without accent, without age.
He took a moment to find the words: "I feel the same.”
“When ready, please record the circumstances of the discovery of the new item, Nardak.”
He stood and approached another half orb in its place further down the altar. As he spoke the key words “theta log pages” the ghost book appeared before him, suspended in the air as usual. It was imbued with the glow of the half orb, smaller than a half folio with pages of the purest white he had ever seen. The pages responded to his touch, but he could feel nothing as he turned to a new blank page.
“Eighth month, third day, 253 years after the Awakening,” spoke Nardak as the figures appeared at the top of the ghost page: 8.3.253 A.A. Letters in the common tongue continued to appear almost instantaneously as he spoke, “After two years on open pilgrimage, Priest Phi returned from the Crystal Kingdom today with a new half orb. He reported that his travels this time took him into the northern mountains where Derrek communities have minimized barbarian scavenging. The new half orb was found in a deep habitat probably abandoned two generations before the Awakening. No keystone has been located.”
Nardak paused briefly and continued, “There are reports from multiple sources in the Derrek communities that the Crystal King is using a spirit artifact during battles in the west lands. According to some stories, the Crystal King’s new power makes him invincible. According to other stories, the spirit simply affects the minds’ of his enemies, creating fear and terror. End of message.” The ghost book and the orb’s glow dissipated.
“Thank you, Nardak,” said the oracle, “both for the new treasure and this important news. We will need the Empire’s assistance. Your priests should gather more information, but they will not be able to physically secure this item.”
“Yes, Wind of Haven”
“Please call me by name, Nardak,” said the oracle with infinite patience.
“Yes, Sara. But please understand that it would also be difficult for me to call the Empress by name."
"I would like you to learn that in the higher world, power does not preclude friendship or even intimacy. Your hesitation shows a kind of backward thinking. Please know you can serve me best by becoming ever closer, knowing me more, knowing my heart."
"I have never heard you call it 'the higher world', always 'the other world,'" he said.
"That is because you are ready to learn more about the place beyond both this world and the other world. I have waited eight generations to share the things I share with you from now on. Others will be ready someday soon, but you are ready now, my child and my friend, to see the place that I prepare for you."
The oracle guided Nardak where she had never guided him before: the seat before the master orb, a huge half orb that had always occupied the centermost altar of the chamber. She described how to place his palms upon the surface and how to pronounce a few key words. Unlike the ghost books, maps, and images he had seen in the past, Nardak felt himself transported and beheld a vast library full of shelves of books, cabinets of scrolls, and uncountable half orbs, each on a table, desk, or dais and each with the telltale glow of a keystone. He was in a wildly enhanced version of his tower, with windows in every direction revealing his mountain, the woods, and Hawk Tarn. In the distance, the city of Lak was incredibly built up with what appeared to be towers of mirrors, castles of glass and silver. The landscape was filled with other cities, temples, and roads everywhere--wider than the Royal Road. Iron carriages ran without horses, and strange boats sailed in the sky. He walked a few paces to the shelves, surprised to find that he could feel the hard surface of wood and the soft covers of the books, very different from the ghost books and spirit maps. Taking down a volume, he read the title Leaves of Grass and flipped through what appeared to be a collection of poems. Before he could focus clearly on the printed lines, however, Nardak returned from the vision, back in his cave, his heart beating fast and his eyes watering.
“We have much work do, my child and my friend,” said the Oracle.
“Yes, Wind of Haven. Sara.”
***
Some days after the vision of the higher world, Nardak had an audience with the Empress, making the journey with Priests Chi and Epsilon. Before setting out, he had another consultation with the Oracle, who had further enlightened him about the higher world, a spiritual realm which existed even now but could be physically manifest in the future of this world. She could share knowledge from the higher world with him, she explained, but sharing with others at this time could destroy the priesthood. The oracle had then instructed and equipped him for his audience with the Empress.
Palace guards escorted the three priests into the counsel room. The Empress wore casual evening clothes, working over a large map of the realm with a trusted advisor. Although not as lavish as the throne room, the walls were adorned with large landscape paintings featuring every realm in the Empire. The windows were dressed with golden curtains, and the carved wooden furniture was covered with embroidered tapestries. Intricate bronze lampstands of burning oil brightened the room.
“Greetings, High Priest,” The Empress said, drawing near, grasping Nardak’s two hands in the custom of her people, and nodding to his companions, “Greetings, priests. I hope your travel was smooth.” The High Priest and Empress, after many years of sharing questions for the oracle or revelations from the oracle, did not engage in long, relationship-building pleasantries, merely brief exchanges of decorum.
“Thank you, Empress. It is good to be in the city.”
“Will you be staying long?” The smile of the Empress was warm, her dark eyes comforting. Peace seemed to settle around her as easily as the dark hair that fell in soft curls upon her shoulders. She was known to put the sternest rulers at their ease as she overlooked all discomfort, stress—and even personal slights—reserving her more characteristic displays of strength for upholding the law and protecting her people.
“In fact,” Nardak said, “I plan to be in the city a few days for community service.” All citizens of Lak, even the Empress herself, provided community service amounting to 40 days a year, one of the progressive rulings that had been passed since the Awakening. Nardak, like many priests, served as a teacher and archivist at the public academy.
“I am sure the academy benefits from your expertise,” she said, and every word sounded sincere. She opened her arms wide to include the priests and the advisor, touching their shoulders freely, kindly. “Now I know everyone has been busy and will want to rest tonight. Please share your concerns with us frankly.”
“Yes, Empress. I come to you by the guidance of the oracle after receiving news of the Crystal King. The necessary action is beyond the ability of the priesthood.”
“Go on, please.” The candlelight flickered over the Empress’s friendly face.
“The king wields some new power from the other world, and the oracle fears this power could create imbalance in this world, making even the Empire unstable. The Wind of Haven suggests we confirm the reports and seize this spirit artifact with haste. She has sent an omen from the other world to help persuade you of the seriousness of the situation.” Nardak drew a small half orb from his robe and spoke a key word in a strange tongue. Above his palm and surrounding the half orb was a living map of light: the Great River on one side and the Haunted Forest and Crystal Pass on the other. But there was no Royal Road, no Citadel of Batana. It was like a moving model of the unbuilt world, water flowing, trees moving in the wind. A small black sphere rose from the trees and flew directly into the mountain side where the rock seemed to melt and make way. The spirit sphere disappeared into the Crystal Mountains. The living map faded.
“What have we just seen?” The softness of the Empress’s voice was imbued with a strange strength.
“This is the omen from the oracle, Empress,” said Nardak. “We do not know what spirit power he has found, but the oracle has sent this vision of a spirit transport from the ancient days of the Crystal Mountains. The Wind of Haven warns that something evil may have been awakened and urges us to identify whatever artifact the king is using and seize it.”
“You know, dear citizen, I cannot order such an action without approval of the senators. I cannot seize the property of an ally. These laws come from the long history of guidance from your oracle.”
“Yes, of course.”
“But considering the source of this revelation, I think I know someone who can help.”
“Yes, Empress,” said Nardak.
Later when all civilities were done and the door had closed behind the visitors, the Empress called for the basin, for she would need to wash her hands as usual.
The news was passed on to those who could help.
***
Celeste scaled the wall around the First Healing House with ease. Being in the city, she did not feel the need to bring weapons, nets, map supplies, or any of the usual accessories. She dropped silently down into the courtyard well away from the torches at the gated entrance, her hooded, full-body cloak blending in with shadows and darkness. Vyladie the Healer's cell was on ground level. It was small: a sleeping pallet, a desk, shelves, two chairs, and a tea table. Celeste entered Vyladie's cell, crouching below the window ledge, and the healer had read about five pages from a large folio before she noticed her sitting there.
"Cel, you could have used the front gate," Vyladie smiled, her freckled face and strawberry blond hair glowing in the moonlight and candlelight. "You could make an appointment or even just drop by."
"I don't like any unnecessary records at the gate. Besides, you might not want to have to answer questions about why I came. I know how honest you like to be."
"'Only darkness hides from the light,'" Vyladie said, quoting a precept of the healers.
"If you want to make progress, you must step with the left foot as well as the right," Celeste countered. "The darkness is only truly known by the light, and the light is only truly known by the darkness."
"I think when you mix the two, you end up with shades and shadows, Cel."
Although she followed the Path, this last comment actually gave Celeste pause because she was a full-born member of the Order of Shadows, where she had grown up at the monastery among the adopted acolytes and recruited members. Her enthusiasm for the Path was a recent addition to her more formal training.
"So what's your secret mission?" Vyladie asked, seeing that her friend would not be baited into their usual discussion.
"If you still have the cards from Batana, I want you to do a reading for me."
"O, Celeste! You know those are just for study and meditation. Only wisdom and the Most High can provide true guidance." The Healers believed the Most High bestowed great gifts to all of his children, and that he was the source of all true prophesy.
"Yes, and I only walk the Path. But I will be decorated as a master soon, and I am considering my calling. I remember that when we played with them before, the cards were uncanny. I don't believe they had any kind of power, but somehow they helped me think and feel settled when I had to decide whether to train with the Shadow Dancers. At that time, you said the Batanians claimed to tap into higher wisdom or a collective symbolism. Strictly speaking, that is not against our religions, and besides..." Celeste paused, "I could ask you to do some deeper things."
"I don't think callings are limited to graduation time," Vyladie said with a tight smile and a shake of her head. She took a small woven chest from the shelves and motioned for Celeste to sit across from her on the pallet. She took out a drawstring bag from which she pulled out a thick stack of cards wrapped in a red silk cloth. She mixed the cards, the colorful pictures and numbers flashing in the dim light. They were ancient images that supposedly came from the other world. She spread the cards face down on the red silk, the backs painted blue with white stars.
"Draw out three cards," said Vyladie. "Turn the first face up to represent your past." The first card pictured a young person in royal garb, who could have been a prince or princess, holding a golden cup from which a fish emerged. The fish seemed to be staring the human figure directly in the eye.
"This card is the Page of Cups and reflects your emotional past. It would suggest looking back on all of your soul searching as the fish can represent the soul. Remember those times when you felt most in tune with your feelings as well as those times when feelings seemed powerful or even out of control. Mastering the emotions is part of growing up, and this card calls you to remember these intuitive passages of life."
A few memories played through Celeste's mind: becoming a Shadow Dancer, breaking off her courtship, celebrating the Spring Festival with her family of Shadows—whether real, adopted, or recruited. She remembered her father’s blessing at her 16th birthday party, and she remembered her graduation from public school. She nodded for Vyladie to continue.
The second card, representing the present, pictured a woman seated in front of a veil with the moon at her feet and a shining crown on her head. In her hands, partially covered by a royal blue robe, was a scroll. Behind the veil could be seen an expanse of water like the sea.
"This card is the High Priestess," said Vyladie. "She symbolizes personal wisdom or secret truth, the quiet voice of conscience and the guidance that comes from deep within yourself. This card reminds you to be still and know your own heart rather than social pressure. The card speaks of your private prayers rather than public ones and reminds you that ultimately you must resonate with truth internally and not just accept what comes from the outside, even if you are told it comes from the other world."
Just as Celeste had remembered, the cards seemed to fall in uncannily appropriate patterns. She felt she had really needed to hear these words.
"The third card is supposed to represent the future," continued Vyladie. "But I assure you the cards do not tell the future. Not only do you have power over your own destiny, but if you saw the actual future you would then have even more power to change it, for such knowledge would be powerful indeed. The card is best seen as either a promise or a warning, depending on how you freely respond." She turned over the third card picturing a man riding in a chariot drawn by two horses, one black one white. He wore a golden crown and held a golden staff.
"The Chariot card represents a kind of victory, as the ruler has mastered contradictory elements in order to make his journey or win his battle. This is a physical or outward success, a mastery of external forces. As a promise, this card shows you the rewards of mastery, but as a warning, this card suggests how pride can lead to downfall.
“Taken as a whole, Celeste, this spread tells a story: after tuning into your experiences, feelings, and deepest thoughts, your will meet with a great victory. Given the question of your heart, your great success could confirm your calling. ”
Celeste sat pensively as her comrade wrapped the cards back into the red silk cloth. After a few minutes, she said, “Thank you, Vyladie. I have taken up enough of your time. I guess I should tell you my real reason for coming. Rennick sent this for you.” From somewhere within her cloak, Celeste produced a thin envelop sealed with red wax.
“I imagine Rennick wants a meeting,” she said before slipping out of the window into the night. Other than the Grand Master, the Master of Dancers, and Rennick—the Master of Raptors—only two others knew that Vyladie belonged to the order of Shadows: Talitha—another Shadow Dancer—and Celeste, who was soon to be a master monk of their order.
***
When Vyladie met with Rennick the next morning in the central gardens, she was very excited. Almost certainly there would be a special assignment; nothing else could explain the sealed summons. The benches and pathways were filled with other anonymous people cutting through the city, playing pebble war on checkered slabs, eating lunch, or otherwise taking breaks from work or community service. As fall approached, the leaves of trees were turning from their usual green-bordered red or purple to dark brown, grey, and black. The wind was crisp and the water in the fountains cool. The central garden was the symbolic heart of Lak, a physical sign of the three axioms: all lives are sacred under the eternal, all lives are free from interference, all lives are equal before the law.
She had not sat long in the secluded spot—hidden by wall, fountain, and tree from almost every angle—when Rennick sat beside her. He was dressed in common clothes and, other than his blond hair and blue eyes, was nondescript. Vyladie also wore street clothes, having changed from the white robes of a healer, which she now carried in a small shoulder bag. “Hello friend,” said Rennick, his eyes as steely and piercing as ever. “I hope you can take some leave because I have a holiday in mind for you.”
“Yes,” she said, the roundness and brightness of her face somehow reminding Rennick of Luna’s smiling side. Her beauty was almost enough to give pause to the task-minded, driven Shadow leader. “But I have great freedom as my devotion and work also often call me away from the House.”
“Right, right,” he lowered his voice. “I will brief you and your usual companions soon. You all will need to travel under cover and make a friendly visit to the Crystal Kingdom. We need information about a new spirit artifact that the king may be using in battle. I will be checking out some contacts on this side of the mountains, but we all need to be back by the Spring Festival. Regardless of what we find out, the Grand Master wants a strategy meeting by the springtime. Needless to say, these are all dark missions.”
“Needless to say,” said Vyladie.
“I have one special assignment for you before the journey as I know you have had occasion to consult the oracle in your spiritual quests and know Nardak personally.” When she had confirmed with several quick nods, Rennick continued. “I need you to find out about any recent activity of the priests or any suggestion that the high Priest is withholding information. Of course you cannot ask directly as…”
“Needless to say!” said Vyladie.
She sensed Rennick’s underlying impatience, and she had no questions, nothing to add. She was excited.
…
Later that week, Vyladie hired a two-horse carriage and by late afternoon arrived at Nevodak’s tower. Leaving the driver at the livery stable, she entered the temple at the base of the mountain, fairly certain she could get the audience with the high priest. The temple was actually a compound of connected stone domes and arches, a maze of mediation rooms, lecture halls, study cells, all around a central worship court, which was used for private prayer when not occupied by a public ceremony. All faiths were welcome here, although the Order of the Oracle generally followed the Eternal—along with the progressive revelations that had arrived since the Awakening of the Oracle. Vyladie entered the vestibule of the main dome and approached what seemed to be the ranking priest, reading a parchment at a desk.
“Priest…” They all looked the same to her, well-fed and jovial, in the black robes, closely-cropped hair, and long beards, but she took a guess, “…Gamma.” He looked at her, smiling, neither confirming nor denying the greeting. “I am Healer Vyladie from the First House of Healing and seek consultation with the high priest.” A consultation was a formal audience, often requiring a return visit after a question had been researched by the priesthood or even taken before the oracle. Counseling, therapy, discipleship, and other more mundane guidance were managed through regular sessions and meetings.
“High Priest Nardak is present,” Priest Gamma stood, still smiling. “Please wait in the court of worship.”
Entering the court beneath the dome and taking a seat on one of the benches that, like the outer archways, encircled the central platform, she rehearsed her question. Here and there among the benches, pilgrims or acolytes studied or meditated peacefully, some alone, some in small groups. True to her training that all subterfuge be mixed with a healthy dose of the truth, Vyladie had come with a real issue: why in Haven were there so many different religions, even so many factions among those like her who followed the Most High? The doctrine among the healers was that there could be only one true faith and one Most High. Yet when she had posed the question once to the Grand Master of Shadows, he had asked in return, “Why does this question plague you? If you seek knowledge, I fear nothing will answer. Even if you could you live a lifetime as a true follower of every religion and every faction on Haven and the other world, you would only have the beginning of the answer. However, if you seek to help those who doubt, then know that goodness and love must be taken seriously and nurtured in all of its forms.”
She did not have to wait long before Nardak entered the court and sat beside her. He grasped her hands with his and welcomed her warmly, “Healer Vyladie, I am overjoyed to see you again. I hope all is well with your order.” His was the only beardless face among the priesthood, coarse skin starting to wrinkle yet stretched so tightly, deep set eyes increasing the skull-like effect.
“All is well, High Priest Nardak.” She said. “Our healers are returning from their ministries in the five realms and soon we will begin preparations for the Spring Festival. All my cases are closed now, but I may have one more ministry trip to the Crystal Kingdom before the new year.” She sensed the good will and freedom to try the bold gambit. A flicker of interest played over the skeletal face before her. She added smoothly in the customary manner, “I hope all is well with your order.”
“Many of my priests also travel but should return for the new year. The forest and temple are nearly vacant now because of these recent quests. The servants here are few now, mostly scribes and protectors.” Nardak moved closer, though their voices did not carry far. “In fact, the quests are to the west lands where we seek news of spirit power in the Crystal Kingdom. I would covet any news.”
“Of course, High Priest. We are friends. Have you received descriptions of the spirit power?”
“No, my Healer. We have only conflicting rumors of a new artifact used in battles. But I can share more as priests return. I will eagerly await your report as well. But I divert you from your business. What brings you to a consultation at the temple? I still remember past visits when we discussed the decline of religious rituals and roles. Once I believe asked whether the stories of the other world are history, folklore, or news of another place. And last visit, I believe we discussed divination and spirit powers beyond the artifacts. What interesting search brings you here now?”
”A common question,” Vyladie smiled, “but like the other important ones, one that seems never ending. Those who have no faith sometimes say the many conflicts and contradictions among the religions destroys all credibility. Even among the Eternal and my own order of the Most High, there are many factions. How should people of faith answer?”
Nardak said, “There are many paths to the Eternal and that the Eternal transcends our finite minds. The Eternal say that many roads lead to the true temple. We tell the story of the priests and the cave. In the pitch black cave where priests come in and out is a manaboar. Some find milk from a warm breast, while others feel trained by the tusks and teeth of the large beast. Some say there is the stillness of sleeping; others say there is stomping that shakes the ground.”
“Yes, according to this parable,” said Vyladie. “All of them are right.”
“And all of them are wrong,” added Nardak as his thin lips stretched around his large teeth in a wide, grim smile. He enjoyed the dark irony.
“They are right and wrong in two ways,” continued Vyladie. “First, there is a basic level: they all identify something living and breathing within the darkness. Then there are partial truths as each priest has a piece of the puzzle—recognizing different parts of the beast or different states of the beast. My order believes that truth leads to what is Most High and that half truths lead us astray.”
“The analogy breaks down, too,” sighed Nardak, “when we consider those like the barbarians who reject a spiritual realm. They are like those who go into the cave and observe only the darkness although they also contribute to complete understanding. Yet the Eternal believe we can encounter the transcendent more immanently within ourselves but more accurately from without. The individual conscience and experience is like touching the beast within the cave, but the discussions of the factions outside the cave lead to a better picture. We hope to find and preserve all the human experience that we can—even of those who wish to destroy such knowledge.”
“Doctrine and debate do help appease the mind,” said Vyladie.
“Common sense and shared human sentiment help us appreciate what is eternal,” said Nardak.
“Thank you, High Priest,” said Vyladie. “It’s always a pleasure talking with you. If the oracle ever leads you to greater knowledge of this issue, I hope you will share it with me.”
“My pleasure, Healer.” Said Nardak.