Disclaimer:
These characters do not belong to me, but to the writers and producers
of Roswell
Spoilers:
After Chant Down Babylon, changes happening where Max is successfully
rescued, and Michael was the one who broke up with Maria.
Pairings: You’ll have to wait and see!
Pronunciation Guide: Nalder: (Nal - dair)
Desya: (Dez - ee - ya)
Yun’s: (Y - oo - ns)
Emine:
(Em - i - nee)
Sela: (See - la)
Kateya: (Kà -tee - ya)
Eshtari: (Esh - tar - ree)
Cedris: (Seh - dris)
Badr:
(Ba – dir)
Author’s notes: Queen Fadilia
Kedar: Max/Isabel’s mother
King
Alaric Kedar: Max/Isabel’s father
Andaria: Tess’ mother
Radim:
Tess’ father
Kedrans: race from which Royal Four descended
Iturians: race from which Khivar descended, and
overthrew and killed Zan and the Kedrans
Cerideans: special core ops of the Iturian army, mostly
psyonics and telepaths
Kaptar’s
Jewel: constellation in the
Antarian’s star system
Yun’s
Garment: Aurora Borealis - Northern Lights
Chapter Forty Six
***
But my heart says nay; and all my limbs are light, and a hope and joy
are come to me that no reason can deny.
-
J.R.R Tolkien
***
“Where are we now?” Liz giggled, as Kyle led her up a
dark and narrow trail.
“I thought you liked surprises,” Kyle smirked.
“I never said that,” she protested.
Kyle hadn’t planned this detour, but the afternoon had
been so much fun; he didn’t want it to end just yet. The Northern Lights were out - an odd aberration - and he thought
he might take advantage of one of nature’s unexplained wonders.
“You’ll see.”
~~~
“The flight plan has been logged,” Nalder informed
Desya, the flight commander.
The Munan commander nodded, as he stared up at the
clear evening sky. “It will be a good
night to fly,” he said out loud, though no one knew whether he was speaking to
the group or to himself.
Tess swallowed hard.
She had never traveled by spaceship.
It would be her first time, at least in her hybrid form. “Then let’s go. We are needed on Antar.”
As she approached the tall, narrow ship, that stood about 240 ft high,
Tess took one last look back at the twinkling lights of Roswell that shone in
the distance. The ramp, which led onto
the grey shadowy ship, was lit dimly by small bulbous lights hovering a few
centimetres from the ground, flickered as if beckoning her in.
“I never imagined this night would come,” Michael
sighed, also staring out at the vast dark void of night. He tried to lock away every memory he had of
his ‘home’. Thin, spidery fingers
slithered from behind him, to grip his shoulders.
“I am sure your people have thought the same things,”
Desya said comfortingly. “It is even
known in our world - the great story of the Royal Four’s return.”
“But it is not the Four returning,” Tess said
solemnly. “It is but two.” She tried to curb the pain in her voice, but
it would not be hidden.
Tess stiffened as she turned to face Michael. There was no more time for dawdling. Their peoples’ lives depended on their quick
and safe return. “Michael.”
He turned his head slightly, enough to see the anxiety
creeping into Tess’ eyes. He
nodded. “Let’s go.”
~~~
Liz felt this sudden humming underneath her feet. She shook her head. She must be imagining things.
As Kyle led her up towards the clearing, past the
slight incline in front of them, Liz felt the vibrations continue to tremble
beneath her feet. She frowned. “Kyle,” she said hesitantly. “Is the ground supposed to be shaking?”
Kyle looked behind him, as Liz’s smooth hand squeezed
his tightly, and her body refused to move another inch. “I don’t think so.” He hadn’t expected this unusual experience. He had just wanted to look out across the
bluff. “Do you want to turn back?” he
asked apprehensively.
Liz pondered his wise suggestion. It probably would have been the best choice,
but something inside her, urged her to go on.
“I…I think we should see what’s over the hill.” Her voice was hesitant.
She wasn’t sure she really wanted to find out, but her
curiosity had always gotten the better of her.
How else would she explain her adventures with Max, Isabel, and Michael?
“Okay,” Kyle gulped.
“Whatever you say.”
They climbed the last leg of the steep incline and
peered overtop of the dry, dusty knoll, shocked at what they saw.
~~~
Tess had just stepped aboard the dimly lit ship. Its’ frame was firm and cold, as she let her
fingers glide against its’ walls. She
would be going home soon.
Michael waited until the three Munans’ had boarded
before taking one last look at Earth. Would
this truly be the last time he would set foot on Earth?
Suddenly, as he was about to enter the hissing
mammoth’s mouth, loud shouts cried out from behind a large dark bush. His body tensed, ready for any form of
attack. The Munans came to the entrance
portal to beckon him onto the ship.
They were ready for a hasty ascent.
“Michael!” a woman’s voice cried.
His head spun around in recognition of his name. Michael squinted in the darkness, as the
glow of the ship did not allow enough light for him to discern who was rushing
towards them, though the voice sounded familiar. “Liz?”
Tess heard the commotion and ran to the mouth of the
ship. “What’s going on?”
As her words left her mouth, she saw a tall muscular
shaggy-haired man step into the flickering luminescence of the ship’s interior
light. “Kyle,” she gasped.
How did they find out?
~ * ~
“Where do you think you are going?” Kyle
exclaimed. The words came tumbling out
of his mouth. He wasn’t even sure it
was him asking the question. The epic
size of the unexpected spectacle before him boggled his mind.
A spaceship. A
real, live spaceship.
Michael groaned silently. They didn’t have time for this.
“We are leaving for Antar,” Tess stated calmly. “What does it look like?”
The Munans’ had taken human form once more and edged
closer to the confrontation. “We must
leave before Yun’s Garment has dispersed,” Nalder said uncomfortably.
Liz’s eyes darted around the massive ship that stood
before her. It overwhelmed her. How had this ship remained hidden?
She turned her focus to Michael and Tess. “I thought you weren’t leaving until Max and
Isabel returned?” she said suspiciously.
“We weren’t,” Michael said regretfully. “But things are happening on Antar that we
can’t ignore.” He wished he could stay;
keep his promise to Isabel. But at this
stage in the game, he knew remaining on Earth would put Andaria at great risk,
and he knew Tess would never allow that.
“But Michael…” Liz hedged. She didn’t know what to say to convince him that going with Tess
was a mistake. She thought would have
more time. She looked at Kyle for help,
but he was focused on Tess; he had other things on his mind.
“Listen Liz, I need you to understand that truth is
always in the eyes of the beholder.”
Michael almost rolled his eyes at his insight. It was almost intellectual.
“What are you talking about Michael?” Liz didn’t understand.
Why did he sound so different? And why did he make it sound like she was
the one with the limited insight on the situation. She folded her arms across her chest, feeling restless; she was
still upset from the sight of the unexpected.
“Maria knows about everything. She understands now,” Michael explained
slowly. “And I need you to trust
me. I need you to trust that I know
what I’m doing.”
“Look, Max and Isabel are going to come home and find
us gone.” Liz nodded. “I need you to tell them everything. I need you to help them understand
what is at stake right now, and what they need to do.”
“And how am I supposed to do that,
Michael? When I don’t understand
anything myself? You’re leaving without
so much as a word, and you’re telling me that I need to help Max and Isabel ‘understand
what they need to do‘?”
Her mind was spinning with endless questions. There was no way she could do what he was
asking her…even if she had known what that was.
Michael kneeled in front of her, so that they were eye
level with each other. “Liz, you were
right when you said that you had received that power from Max for a reason,” he
said guardedly. “It was to save him,
but not in the way you thought.”
Maria has
these memories, and you need to understand them as she does now.” Michael swallowed, his throat had become
dry, longing for the uncomfortable conversation to end. What he was expecting
her to do, it was beyond all reason; yet if she did it, he believed that she
would see what needed to be done.
“What are these memories?” Liz asked
skeptically. His vague, mysterious
explanations were making her more fretful and uptight than she had been before.
“Maria has the answers now,” Michael said, distancing
himself. “I don’t have anymore time to
explain.” He felt the vibrations under
his feet and turned to see Desya reach out to tap his shoulder, his head
gesturing for him to enter the awaiting ship.
Michael looked at Liz’s confused expression, and felt
uneasy leaving her like this. But he
knew from the lightening skies, that the new morning was drawing near and they
had no more time for explanations. It
was time to go home.
~~~
Tess had watched Liz’s mind churn, thinking of ways to
convince Michael that this was the wrong course of action. She had bit her tongue and stopped herself
from rolling her eyes. Instead of
entering into their conversation, her gaze fell upon Kyle. She had hurt him, and she had played with
his mind. It was one of her biggest
regrets, other than beginning the chain of events that led to Alex’s death.
Kyle wasn’t paying any attention to what Liz and
Michael were talking about. His sole
focus was Tess. He never got to tell
her what he thought of her and what she had done to him and Alex. Part of him kept on telling himself to stay
calm. He would only hurt himself if he
let her get to him.
Midway through Liz and Michael’s conversation, he
clenched his fist and swallowed hard. What
the hell! What did he care about being
‘enlightened’ when he stood in front of this monster?
Tess could tell Kyle was chomping at the bit to say
something to her. She could feel his
anger seething beneath his calm exterior.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
She owed him that much.
As Kyle was about to call Tess out, but she beat him
to the punch. “Kyle,” she said evenly,
“we need to talk.”
He slowly lowered his arm that pointed accusingly at
her. “Yeah,” he said
caught-off-guard. “Well then…let’s
talk.” Kyle gestured for them to move
their conversation elsewhere; as Liz sought her own set of answers.
They slipped away from the conversation, their absence
barely noticed. He moved off to the
side of the glowing metallic ramp, where Tess met him at the bottom; she stood
at the lip of the ramp, while he stared evenly at her, as the ramp evened out
their height difference.
“Look before you start yelling at me,” Tess said
uneasily. “I just wanted to tell you
that…”
Kyle shook his head.
“No. You don’t get to talk!” he
said angrily. “I…we took care of
you, Tess. And you repaid us with
nothing but lies and pain.” His hands
were shaking. Kyle hadn’t realized how
angry he was until she stood in front of him, alone.
“I thought of you like a sister and you…all that time
you were plotting against me…I mean, us.”
His voice cracked under the emotion of it all. His anger suddenly left him.
It was as if it had just vanished and all that was left was this
stabbing pain. His thoughts drifted to
the dinners and the movie nights…it had all been an act. “You didn’t care for me at all…did you?” he
said agonizingly.
“Kyle…no,” she whispered.
Tess had no idea how badly she had hurt him. Seeing him in this amount of pain, it tore
at her soul. How she wished she could
just turn back time, and stopped herself from doing this to all of them. But she couldn’t.
“I’m so sorry.
I never meant to hurt you, Kyle.
It just happened.” The words
felt meaningless in the sight of the broken down teenager before her. How could she fix it? How could she ease his pain?
Kyle narrowed his eyes and scoffed. The empty apology left him cold. And once again, his anger returned. “Never meant to hurt me?” he cried
out angrily. “Give me a break!” Every muscle tensed in his anger.
“I believed you once, Tess. I even befriended you when none of the others wanted to have
anything to do with you. I felt sorry
for you.” He seethed at the memory of
his naiveté. They had been right not to
trust her. And he had just been too
blind to see it. “I don’t want your apology,”
he sneered. “I just want you to know
how much I hate you.”
Tess winced at the declaration. Her stomach churned and her head began to
ache. Swallowing the bile that rose to
her throat, Tess looked tearfully at Kyle.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered one last time. “I never meant…” She
reached out until her fingers were inches from his face.
Kyle glared at her with all of the anger and hatred he
could muster. He didn’t move. He knew he should have. Kyle silently scoffed. What else could she do to him that she
hadn’t already?
“You never what?” he spat. “Meant to use me in your plan to kill
Alex? Or do you mean, you never
meant for me to remember?”
Tess slowly inched forward and touched his face. “You weren’t supposed to remember,” she said
wistfully. Her words seemed to be in
reply to his accusations.
Then in a silent decision, Tess closed her eyes, as
her fingertips caressed his temple. A
slow warm pulsation slid down her arms and into her fingertips. “But you will. You will remember everything.”
Tess entered Kyle’s mind, in a blink of an eye. Everything was rose-colored - not in a good
way - in response to his physical and emotional anger. And as she walked down the hallway in the
familiar chambers of his psyche, Tess came to a halt in front of a wall. It was hidden behind the remnant of a broken
down wall. She pressed her hand against
the firm surface, and underneath her palm glowed a silver handprint.
It would be her gift to him.
“Maybe this will make up for the lies, and the pain I
put you through.”
Kyle closed his eyes and shook his head, as if trying
to shake the sleep from his eyes. “I
remember everything clearly,” he retorted, staring up at Tess, who stood
calmly before him. “And I don’t need
you to help me with anything.”
Tess nodded sombrely.
There was nothing left to do here.
Turning to Michael, who seemed to end his conversation at the same time
as she and Kyle, she smiled sadly. “Are
you ready to go?”
Michael nodded.
“I’m ready.”
~~~
Liz and Kyle stood dumbfounded, as they watched the
vertical disc ascend into the dancing ribbons of blue and purple. Both knew that the night they saw the
‘Northern Lights’ would be unforgettable.
~~~
“We’re not like the FBI,” Agent Firth leered as
his nose pressed up against Jesse’s.
“We’re here because National Security has been breached and you,
Mr. Ramirez, are a part of that plot!”
“I don’t know anything!” he spat.
Agent Firth stepped aside, as a larger, more muscular
agent stepped in front of him. He was
tall and dark, his skin shone with perspiration. Jesse closed his eyes as the agent jammed his fist into his
stomach, making him gasp for air. Once
he caught his breath Jesse narrowed his eyes, studying his two captors. “What are you guys trained at the same place?”
he joked.
The older agent smiled, as if the joke tickled him,
while the obvious ‘muscle man’ gave him another taste of pain, for his
troubles. “Keep mouthin’ off Mr.
Ramirez, but sooner or later, you’re gonna crack.”
Jesse rolled his eyes. Suddenly he laughed to himself as his thoughts wandered. I’m getting good at this prisoner
gig. Maybe I should change careers!
“I don’t think you’re going to have that smirk on your
face too long,” Agent Firth informed Jesse, with a grin. “I think this,” pulling out a long, plastic
syringe, “will move things along, very quickly.”
The dark-haired agent pressed the injector of the
syringe, allowing a line of clear liquid to arc out of the silver needle. Jesse squirmed in his seat, kicking, and
screaming profanities at the agents.
“Now, now, Mr. Ramirez,” Agent Firth smiled
coldly. “You don’t want to move. I’m bound to hit an artery that way. And you don’t want that do you?” The agent moved closer, as Jesse continued
to thrash around in his chair.
“Keel, keep him from moving around!”
Jesse struggled against the lackey agent, who wrapped
his arms around Jesse’s neck, in a headlock.
The contracted muscles in the agent’s arm constricted his airway, making
Jesse lose almost all consciousness.
Just before everything around him began to fade, he felt a pinprick in
his neck. Then everything went black.
~~~
“What was that?”
Isabel frowned as she saw a narrow stream of light streak across the
night sky.
Max shrugged.
“What was what?” He peered upwards,
trying to catch a glimpse of the anomaly, which had Isabel on the edge of her
seat.
“Didn’t you see it?”
Max shook his head.
“See what?”
Isabel rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Maybe she was seeing things. It had been that kind of night. Images kept flashing over and over in her
mind. Bits of her past kept creeping up
on her, and it was unnerving. “It was
probably nothing,” she sighed, waving Max off, gesturing for him to keep his
concentration on the road.
“Are you sure?” he asked curiously. The journey had been long, and they were
both tired. But he couldn’t help but
feel like there was something more to the spectacle Isabel thought she saw.
She nodded, smiling faintly. “Do you think he’ll survive?”
The words just tumbled from her mouth. It was a sudden change of subject.
“What?”
Isabel stared sombrely at her brother. “Do you think Michael will survive?” she
repeated her question. “Do you think
Michael and Tess will be able to beat Khivar?”
The mood in the jeep became tense and solemn.
“I don’t know why you’re thinking like that
right now, Isabel.” Max tightened his
grip on the steering wheel while trying to deal with the thought of Michael
possibly dying out there. “We don’t
need to be thinking about that right now,” he grimaced.
“Yes we do, Max.” Isabel slumped back into the bucket seat and
folded her arms across her chest. “What
if they die because of us?” she whispered.
Max glanced warily at Isabel’s ominous thoughts. “They won’t die,” he answered uneasily. Listening to himself speak, Max wouldn’t
have blamed Isabel for not feeling reassured at his reply.
Isabel swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of a
growing lump in her throat. Staring up
into the waking morning, she watched the rosy hues of the sun envelope the
dimming stars. She couldn’t help but
feel like something was on the horizon that would surprise them both.
~~~
“Have you located Ava yet?” Khivar growled. The short, child-like officer, whose uniform
seemed to swim on him, kept his head bowed.
“No, Your Highness.”
Khivar slammed his fist on his desk, making the
unattached objects lift several inches off the hard surface. “Damn it.
Where are you hiding, you treacherous deserter?” His mind churned with possible sites where
the former queen could have hidden herself.
He knew she would come out of hiding sooner or later; she would never
leave her precious Zander for long.
“Your Highness, what are your orders?”
His beady eyes turned on the imp of a man and
narrowed. “Turn every village, town,
and city upside down, until we find her!” he commanded, wringing his gloved
hands.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The craven soldier bowed and skittered anxiously out of the room.
Khivar stepped from behind his desk and onto the
narrow balcony, which looked upon their capital, Eshtari. “Where, oh where, are you, Ava?” he
whispered, his tone ominous and foreboding.
“I think I’ve waited too long…to give you exactly what you
deserve.”
Uexpectedly he laughed, a deep and throaty laugh, and
then as suddenly as his first mood change, his expression - like Jekyll and Hyde - became menacing and
hostile. He had waited long for his
plans to come to fruition, and no waif of a Kedran would keep him from that -
even if she was chosen.
~~~
Fadilia was pleased at the speed of mobilization. General Steren had kept in contact with many
of their leading commanders and army veterans, who had secretly trained most of
the sons and daughters of their exiled people, preparing for the Day of
Reckoning. She was pleasantly surprised
to see a new generation of Loyalists, ready to rise up from the ashes of their
fallen kingdom.
“Fadilia,” a timid woman’s voice interrupted
her thoughts.
She turned around in her quarters to find a woman with
long black locks that cascaded down to her waist, and a warm, smiling nubile
face standing in the dim entranceway.
Her eyes were averted in a sign of veneration; her long dark lashes hid
the stunning blue eyes beneath them. To
Fadilia’ amazement they always managed to startle her, even after all of these
years..
“Emine, come in.”
Fadilia beckoned to her, as she set down the thin, feather-like
implement between the crease of screen journal.
The dark maiden floated across the worn path in
Fadilia’s chamber. She stood several
feet away from Fadilia, who was sitting at her desk.
When Fadilia and her Elect escaped to the cavernous
mountain base, Emine’s mother, Sela, handmaiden to Kateya, Fadilia’s sister;
followed, since her service was no longer needed - Kateya had been one of the
first to fall victim to Khivar’s schemes.
Sela became Fadilia’s handmaiden, since it had been decided that Andaria
would remain above ground.
Now, Emine followed in her mother’s footsteps after
her passing.
“Your Highness,” she said unassumingly. Her sweet, low voice reminded Fadilia of
Sela. “General Steren commanded me
deliver news of Queen Ava and Commander Rath’s return.”
Fadilia nodded for her to continue. “What is it?”
Emine smiled joyously. “He said that they have departed from Earth and are en route to
Antar.”
Fadilia’s heart soared. “Thank you.”
The young handmaiden clasped her hands together and
pressed them against her breast; bowing deeply, she slowly and quietly backed
out of Fadilia’s chambers. She did not
change her position until she stood in the dark hallway, as was protocol for
Antarian servants of the Court.
Fadilia sighed deeply, her eyes falling upon her open
journal. The light blue screen glowed, illuminating
the meticulous scribblings she had previously jotted down.
They had ceased using primitive parchment to maintain
records for many seasons now. Their
scholars and architects had developed a device that no longer required
parchment, yet stored various types of data.
Her journal was one form of the touch-display rote which allowed her to
vocalize her thoughts and have it recorded for posterity. It was more efficient, but Fadilia preferred
the other technique, which was to use the feather-like pen to form her
thoughts.
She pushed her chair out from under her, and rose; her
black robe trailed behind her. Climbing
the dim, narrow staircase, carved into the mountain side, Fadilia escaped the
suffocating refuge - out onto a narrow plateau jutting from the barren
landscape. She was met with a darkening
horizon; the crimson skies were intensifying into a startling blood red.
Fadilia carried a heavy weight - one, Alaric and Zan
had carried under intense scrutiny - and she now understood the burden her son
had ahead of him. Even though her
spirits were lifted with the announcement Ava and Rath’s return, she still
faced the mounting crisis that was coming to a head, as Khivar’s list of
atrocities continued to grow by the hour.
They would have to take action soon, or the people of Antar would have
nothing left but ruins - Khivar’s latest rampage to locate Ava.
As bride elect of Alaric, Fadilia was educated in her
duties as Queen, which meant managing the Court and its administration. She had no experience in rallying the
troops, or knowledge of what army protocol was. Her saving grace though, had been when Alaric required her to
attend meetings state and kingdom. He
was always thinking ahead; and in hindsight, Fadilia suspected he knew that she
may one day be in this position.
Her instruction also included army stratagem; this
allowed her to understand the on goings of General Steren’s decisions and
tactics against Khivar. And as much as
Steren assured her of his faith in her, she still couldn’t feel comfortable,
especially when ordering loyal subjects into certain death - at this point in
time, anyway.
Fadilia swallowed hard, as her thoughts drifted from
attack strategies and placements of their battalions to Zan, whom she had yet
to see. As she tried to imagine her
son, and his appearance now, her eyes fell upon the lone moon, which had now
appeared from its’ haven.
The New Moons’ Festival was near. And once Cedris, the second moon of Antar,
began its’ journey into cloak of the planet’s shadow, she knew Khivar’s efforts
to secure his place on the throne would redouble. He knew the Prophecy, and though he refuted the notion, Khivar
would be diligent in fortifying his strongholds…just in case. The tyrant would go at them with everything
he had; and considering the power he now wielded, including this unknown
‘project’ - described in one word, ’destruction - Fadilia and General Steren
would have their hands full.
“The Prophecy must come to rest,“ Fadilia whispered
softly. She clutched unconsciously at
her robe, as the evening breeze picked up and sent a shiver down her spine.
‘“We are hard pressed on every side, but not
crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck
down, but not destroyed.”’ The
words flowed effortlessly from her lips and brought with it consolation.
Fadilia had been, in what little spare time she had,
building a library of files on Earth, its’ inhabitants, and its’ history. Though she had studied most of its’
history - war, rebuilding, destruction
- Fadilia had been most interested in thhe sacred books of the planet. She found it fascinating how they had so
many beliefs and ‘religions’, as they had named it.
Antar was not similar in that respect. They were quite purposed, in respect to position
and knowledge of what they were
destined to do. Also, with many having
the ability to inhabit one’s mind, those who tried to press upon - deceive -
the majority, with false declarations of a new ‘deity’, were easily discerned.
Antarians were given the knowledge that a Greater
Power had bestowed upon a certain line of their ancestors, gifts of
overwhelming power, more so than any other line. They were the chosen line - destined to rule Antar. Prior to ‘The Fall’ memories of past
Antarians had been preserved, by oral and visual ‘sharings’ to each generation.
Of course there were many, who though they witnessed
the ‘Revelation’, as they named it, doubted, though the proof was evident and
unexplainable. This was not relegated
only to Antarian society, it could be seen in all types of intergalactic
society. And they were called ‘The
Dissenters’. This ‘truth faction’,
managed to deceive many, having false ‘Truth Sayers’ - mind readers - hidden
within each populated city.
Iturians seemed more susceptible to this sect, as they
were in the heart of ‘The Dissenters’’ base.
Hakan was a founding member.
Consequently, Khivar’s rise to power, on the railings of dissenting
Antarians - mostly Iturians - and a strong army, as their military program was
well funded, should have been foreseen.
Nevertheless, Fadilia spent time dissecting the sacred
scrolls stored in the Antarian database - locating the discrepancies - trying
to discern if they had encountered the same ‘Deity’ the Antarians had been
transformed by. Though there were many
concepts of transformation throughout many of the texts, no experience recorded
on Earth matched the encounter Cian had with this ‘god’.
She was about to stop her examination of the Earth
texts when she came across a document titled, ‘The Bible’. To her delight she found the text very
similar to the writings of Antarian Seers - very much so. It spoke of covenants and meetings with
certain lines of humans - bestowals of blessings.
Fadilia spent sleepless moments devouring its
contents. And from the text, she
gleaned new insights into their own scrolls.
The wisdom and understanding Alaric spoke of and with, which he obtained
from their scrolls, now were hers. She
saw that this ‘Deity’ truly existed - she had been uninterested in her youth -
and whole-heartedly sought His guidance, as Alaric once had.
While her thoughts traversed the winding paths of her
consciousness, Fadilia’s line of sight came back to the brilliance of the
celestial body above. Soon. Her thoughts once more went to her son,
except this time, her thoughts were of the past.
If only she had known what she knew now.
Fadilia often thought about the past with regret. It had taken only her son’s death to
enable her to realize the truths Alaric had been explaining to her from their
first meeting until his deathbed. She
closed her eyes to the reminder of her failure more than two decades ago.
Her son had been born with her stubborn streak. Zan refused to bend. It had been something she had been blind
to. Alaric had seen though, and warned
both Fadilia and Zan.
Fadilia let out a mournful sigh. Why hadn’t they listened? She looked up at blank, mysterious slate
that illuminated her mountainside.
Fadilia knew she had focus on the present.
With the coming New Moons’ Festival, Antar would have
a chance at a new beginning. It was all
about changes and new beginnings.
~ * ~
“Why do we have to wait until the New Moons’
Festival?”
Fadilia leaned back in the cushioned chair, as Zan
looked at her questioningly. She tilted
her head slightly, studying her son’s rugged features. Many of his boyish features remained, though
she was sure they would mature over time.
“Have patience, Zan,” she chuckled. “Your time will come.”
He rolled his eyes and began to pace back and forth on
the palace balcony. “I am
patient,” Zan said restlessly.
Fadilia pursed her lips, in attempt to stifle a
smile. She watched Zan brood over the
fact that his father had informed him,
that in no uncertain terms, would he be crowned king before the New
Moons’ Festival. “What are you
thinking?” she coaxed.
Zan seemed to ignore her question, as his pacing
continued - unwavering. Then suddenly,
he stopped mid-stride and fell in front of her, on his knees. His dark brown eyes were overshadowed with
unusual fear and doubt. “What if he
doesn’t think I’m ready? Maybe that’s
why he’s putting it off?” His voice was
like that of child, looking for reassurance.
Fadilia let out a soft sigh, as she sat up and cupped
her son’s face in her hands. She
pressed her lips against her his warm forehead and shook her head. “Don’t speak such nonsense, Zan. It has nothing to do with whether your
father thinks you’re ready,” she said reassuringly, meeting his gaze. “You know your father thinks the world of
you.”
Zan nodded hesitantly.
“The New Moons’ Festival Coronation is tradition. The eclipses signal the end of the cold, and
the darkness that comes with return of all things to the land. As we celebrate the new Spring Season, it
marks the birth of new beginnings and a time of change.”
“Your father’s reign will end, and it will signal the
birth of a new king. Do you understand
Zan?” she asked, searching his eyes.
Reluctantly, she let Zan pull away from her touch, as
he stood up and turned his gaze towards the city below. Fadilia watched her son, attempting to
discern whether he grasped the magnitude of this event.
Zan let out a thoughtful sigh. He turned and looked at her. “I know,” he replied, His gaze met hers, but there was a distant,
far off look in his eyes. “It’s time
for a change.”
Fadilia settled back into her chair. “Yes,” she drawled. “Changes can be good, if you are patient and
don’t rush things.”
Zan walked towards the marble railing and leaned
forward, looking down into the bustling city.
Unexpectedly, he spun around and laughed. “Mother, I am going to build on what Father has created!” he
exclaimed. “I have ideas. Tons of them!”
Fadilia laughed at her son’s enthusiasm. She watched silently as he gestured wildly,
explaining the plans that churned inside his head.
“I know it’s a lot of change…” Zan turned and looked
at her for approval, then continued on with his list of ideas.
Her whole body welled up with love and pride at her son’s
plans. She knew Zan’s love for Antar
was the source for his unending ideas.
But suddenly Fadilia had this ominous feeling come over her, and an
awful thought occurred to her.
No one would try to stop in all of this? Would they?
Fadilia didn’t give it another moment’s pause before
she found herself being pulled onto her feet by Zan. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly. “Oh Mother, I want to make him proud of me,”
Zan exclaimed sincerely.
Startled at the show of affection, it took Fadilia a
moment to recover, before welcoming his embrace. With determination, she swallowed the lump that had developed in
her throat, and pushed her previous
thought to the back of her mind.
“And you will.”
~ * ~
Fadilia winced at the memory. It had been so long since she had held her
son in her arms. Sometimes she didn’t
know how she would make it through the day.
She looked toward the luminous globe that hung from
the sky for some reply. There was only
silence.
Suddenly the sight reminded Fadilia of something
Alaric had once told her once.
‘The days always seem to tear and scratch at you. By the time evening falls, I don’t know how
I’m going to make it through. But ‘the
One’ always comes through. I stand
under the light of Badr and Cedris and, my Love, I am lifted up. I have hope for a new day’
It sounded foolish.
Fadilia couldn’t imagine Alaric doing such a thing. But as she stared out into the darkened
forest before her, Fadilia found herself considering it.
“Queen Fadilia!”
A man’s voice beckoned her from her cavernous quarters.
Fadilia ignored the call for a moment as she looked up
into the evening sky, one last time.
Unexpectedly the usually resonant valley below became still, as if
holding its’ breath. Fadilia gazed upon
the wondrous body above her, which seemed to have suddenly swollen a few
centimetres around from her viewpoint.
Taking a deep breath, she allowed the silver stream of
moonlight envelop her. Fadilia closed
her eyes and stretched out her arms, welcoming the puzzling warmth that
refreshed her - reaching deep inside of her.
Fadilia opened her eyes, and the moon, which seemed to
have returned to its normal circumference, greeted her. She sighed softly.
You were right again.