A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe by Jon Chaisson
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…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 tightene
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.”