The sky had an unearthly indigo glow. A circle of seven
towering stones stood atop a hill, gleaming golden as they caught the light of
the setting sun. The place was already bustling by the time the delegation from
Potamyz arrived. Young lishas were wrestling playfully with each other, and old
hurums were sat in cliques gossiping amongst themselves.
The refugees from Kurush were turning a lot of heads. Their
clothes were colourful yet tattered, making them look opulent yet dishevelled.
Anka wondered whether the Paruans would see her friends’ green scales and think
they were dusk raiders. One bare-chested lisha shaking his spear in the air
started shouting at them, only to be quickly drowned out by Hyza and Lysta
shouting back.
The chief of Potamyz was the last to arrive, so the
gathering could begin. The chiefs with their hapa-crest crowns sat within the
stone circle, while their entourages stood outside in silence, holding torches
which cast a myriad flickering shadows. Leading the meeting, whilst saying
barely a word, was the High Shaman, a withered old lisha who had three
blood-red gemstones embedded in the scales of his forehead.
The only Paruan phrases Anka knew were ‘Hello, it is an
absolute pleasure to meet you’, ‘your ship is so beautiful your wife must be
jealous’ and some others she had learnt to flatter merchants in Kurush, so she couldn’t
follow what the chiefs were discussing. Her attention drifted to the grand
megalith they stood next to – carved into it was a reptilian monster baring its
teeth and claws. It had a crest like the setting sun, and two long horns above
its eyes. It reminded Anka of Tiuk’s helmet, the two colossal statues that
guarded the gate to the Rush, and the mosaic outside Lurush’s estate. There was
no doubt that it was the same creature. She asked Hyza what it was.
“It’s the Rizoz,” Hyza whispered, “giant lizards who lived
in Parua when the world was young. They put these stones here and made the
carvings with their claws. But when lishas and hurums came and settled here,
the Sun ordered them to move to the mountains, so that they didn’t accidentally
trample on fields and houses. At least, that’s what the legends say”
“So they’re not real?”
“Oh they’re real. Me and Lysta saw one once, wandering the
scrubland. It looked hungry, so we ran as fast as we could. What a day that
was!”
A wave of surprise rippled through the crowd. Some of the
young lishas started murmuring excitedly in each other’s ears. Hyza’s face had
frozen.
“What happened?” said Anka
“One of the chiefs suggested holding a Yrsti”
“What’s that?”
“A… a sacred feast,” said Hyza, who was still intently
listening to the chiefs, “the lishas fight each other for the most desirable
hurums”
“We had that in Kurush too, once a year. A good day for the
orokosa merchants”
“Here it’s once a generation, and there’s no orokosa. It’s
to stop hurums from outnumbering the lishas. To preserve the Izora. Ah, how
would you say that? The balance? The last one was sixteen years ago, it’s far
too early for the next one. But that chief reckons it would give the lishas the
strength to drive out the dusk raiders, and the arrivals from Kurush”
Apparently the dusk raiders aren’t the only thing to worry
about in Parua, thought Anka. The Paruans were afraid that with the dusk
raiders coming from the plains and Kurush’s refugees coming from the sea, they
would be trapped between them. The destruction of their fishing villages by the
great wave didn’t help matters. Not only had it dented their food supplies, they
were scared that it was an omen that Parua was about to drown under a flood of
invaders. Time dragged on as the chiefs carried on deliberating until the sky
became bejewelled with stars. By the time they had finished, Anka’s body was
stiff and numb. Hyza said that nothing had been decided.
“How long has it been since the Paruans tried to kick the
raiders out?” Anka asked
“A few years ago, a lisha went around telling everyone he
was the reincarnation of the legendary hero Mistiz. He managed to convince a lot
of lishas to follow him, he raised a whole army, but he ended up being killed
by the raiders”
“Could we talk to the High Shaman?” said Anka, nudging Oresh
who was dozing off
“Sure,” said Hyza with a quizzical look, “but why?”
“Isn’t he the highest authority here? All the chiefs of
Parua came here as soon as he asked”
“I suppose. Okay, come on”
Dragging Oresh by the arm, Anka followed Hyza into the stone
circle, where the wizened lisha was still sat cross-legged. They knelt in front
of him, and Hyza explained to him in Paruan who these two foreigners were. He
peered at Anka and Oresh with stern eyes. Anka realised that the gemstones on
his forehead weren’t simply glued to his scales, they had been hammered into
his skull.
“He says he’s pleased to meet you,” said Hyza, “what did you
want to ask him?”
“Why couldn’t the chiefs come to a decision?” said Anka
The High Shaman sighed before he replied.
“Each has their own lishas and hurums to think about,” said
Hyza, “they want peace, but they don’t want to risk anything to achieve it. They
don’t want to lose any more friends and family to the dusk raiders. They’re too
mobile, they attack when we least expect and then vanish. The chiefs can’t see
any way to survive except hope that their village walls hold firm”
“What do you think the solution is?”
“Oshuan traders have passed through our lands for a thousand
years. I know the lishas and hurums of Kurush can be our allies. We ought to
work together to drive out the dusk raiders”
“Great!” said Anka, “We want to do everything we can to
help. We can be the edge you need to win this fight. So, since the chiefs
couldn’t make a decision, why don’t you announce an alliance between us?”
He scoffed and waved the suggestion away.
“He says his role is just to bring the chiefs together to
talk,” said Hyza, “to do anything more would risk the Izora, the balance. Long
ago, when the world was pristine, there was no toil, disease or oppression.
Lishas and hurums roamed living off of the land, and did not fear becoming
dominated by their peers. But some lishas did not want to wait for the Yrsti
and ate hurums wantonly. This angered the Sun, and he unleashed his fiery rage
upon the world, turning the lush green lands to desert. The righteous fashioned
hoes and started farming. We will never see that golden age again, but by
respecting each other and our traditions, we have worked hard to achieve the
Izora, to reach as close to that original paradise as we can. If I were to
start giving orders, the Izora would collapse. You surely understand this
better than anyone. Kurush ignored the Izora, built a hierarchy founded upon
greed, and ultimately paid the price with its ruin”
“A hierarchy is going to be built in Parua, whether you want
it or not,” said Oresh, “I envy how close to the tranquillity of nature you
live, but you can’t escape bronze. The question is what kind of hierarchy will
it be. Will it be one that is fair, open and guarantees the safety of all, or
will it be one where the strongest do as they please?”
The High Shaman glared at Oresh before muttering something
to Hyza and rising to his feet.
“He’s tired”, said Hyza with a nervous laugh
“What you said almost sounded like a threat”, Anka said to
Oresh with a smile
“Oh… shit”
“It was worth a try”
They left the stone circle as the Paruan lishas assembled to
sing the boisterous songs of their ancestors and dance around the fire in the
centre, their hands raised to the lustrous moon above, while the hurums stood
around the stones clapping in time. The dance became faster and faster until
they were running, a throbbing mass of golden-scaled lishas spinning frantically
in concentric circles, the ground shaking with every collective step. The
eldest lishas were in the innermost ring, singing just as raucously as their
grandchildren dashing around the edges.
A little down the slope, Anka and Oresh found Gamoz with
some children. With a torch in one hand, he was using a stick to write in the
dust. To Anka it looked like gibberish, but Oresh simply asked Gamoz for the
stick and did the same.
“Bird camp bronze piety… Oresh, don’t tell me you’ve
forgotten how to write?”
Oresh smiled at her, “You don’t recognise it? How about
this”
“Moon mountain island moon, if they were written in a rush.
What’s this supposed to be? Wait a minute…”
The name Anka sounded like the words ‘rock woman’, so that’s
how she had always signed her name on tablets. Moon mountain island moon was
quickly growing on her.
“What’s this?” said Oresh, jabbing at a character in the
dirt with the stick, “Your name isn’t Gamosh, Gamoz”
“Well, you Oshuans don’t have a word starting with ‘z’, so
there’s no character for it”
“We had better invent one then,” said Oresh, “what’s a
Paruan word starting with ‘z’?”
Gamoz stroked his chin, “How about zolta? It means
‘laughter’”
Oresh scrubbed out the character and replaced it with a
rough version of the symbol for laughter – a stroke down and a stroke up, like
a mischievous smile.
“It definitely suits you more than ‘piety’!”
Gamoz grinned, “How dare you! Maybe your name should have
the characters for ‘cheeky bastard’”
“Er, sorry to interrupt…” Peshura walked sheepishly towards
them, “I managed to save some things from the Sapphire Temple, before getting
on the ship. Here, on this ancient, sacred hill, it seems like a good place for
them”
She opened her satchel to reveal a hoard of dried mushrooms.
Anka rushed to find Bukur, knowing how much he liked consuming exotic things,
but to her surprise he refused.
“I’ll keep watch,” he said, “I’ll make sure you’re safe
while you and Oresh have fun. Besides… Peshura scares the shit out of me”
“After all these years? She must have really given you an
earful after she caught you sneaking around her Temple”
“Just hope you never get on her bad side”
Anka found more enthusiasm in Hyza and Lysta, and it wasn’t
long before there was a small crowd surrounding Peshura. They tasted like
leather with a hint of vomit. Once they had washed the taste out of their
mouths with water, they sat on the hillside and waited in anticipation.
Anka saw Hyza curl up in Lysta’s arms. Oresh was lain on his
back nearby. She slowly climbed onto him, laying herself down on top of him,
the back of her head resting on his chest. He said nothing and gently placed
his hands on her stomach. Together they looked up at the night sky.
Gradually the stars became brighter, they shone in every
colour of the rainbow. The sounds of the Paruans singing and dancing in their
primordial ritual became a celestial rhythm the stars twinkled in tune with. Before
she noticed, the world around her had peeled away and Anka was surrounded by
dancing stars, their kindly mother the Moon watching on, the never-ending
darkness of the night alive with vibrant mists that swirled into original,
never-before-seen shapes.
Someone nearby guffawed loudly, and Anka remembered that she
was bound to the earth. She realised that she had no idea how long she had been
lain there staring upwards. It was probably just a few minutes, but it felt
like it might be almost dawn already.
“What are the stars?”
“I think they’re trying to tell me,” said Oresh slowly, “but
I don’t understand what they’re saying”
“And what even is the Sun? There are so many stories about
him, but all I’ve ever seen is a ball of fire”
“The stories are made up by lishas and hurums. But the
feeling of sunlight on your scales after a cold night, the feeling of energy
being poured into your body, that silent, warm bliss, that’s real”
“Can’t we just lay here forever?” said Anka, “And stop
worrying about hierarchy, conflict, death…”
Oresh chuckled, “That sounds nice. We probably wouldn’t last
long though. Some bastard who does worry about those things would make sure of
that”
“But at least we’d be happy for a little while”
Anka’s stomach had been grumbling for some time, and was now
vigorously complaining about being empty. Be quiet, Anka internally commanded
it, I’m busy trying to figure out the meaning of life. But it would not stop
rumbling, but equally the thought of getting up to find some food was out of
the question.
Thankfully the standoff was broken by some children who were
handing out flatbreads to the hurums and gana steaks to the lishas. As Anka
munched on her bread in Oresh’s lap, she was mesmerised by him slowly chewing
on his steak, being so gentle with it that it was as though he didn’t want to
hurt it, his eyes closed as he meditated on its flavour. Anka couldn’t stop
watching, wondering what it would feel like to be that steak, and only once he
had swallowed it down did she remember that she hadn’t finished her bread.
“I managed to save something else from the Sapphire Temple”,
Peshura announced to the revellers on the hillside
She placed something on the ground swaddled in cloth and
started unwrapping it.
Hyza leant over to Anka, “What’s the Sapphire Temple?”
“It was like a bar, a brothel and a charity all in one
building. Peshura was the Sopri of Sapesh and Galka there, I suppose she’s a
bit like your High Shaman”
Hyza’s eyes were bleary, “A bar, a broth…?”
“A good place to go if you wanted to get eaten”, said Anka
with a smirk
“I wish I could have seen it”
Peshura finished unwrapping her treasure to reveal the
sculpture of a hurum woman between the jaws of a lisha. The wood was cracked
and as dark as coal, but their faces were still strikingly detailed.
“After the earth gave birth to the first lishas and hurums,
the Sun decreed that no hurum would be eaten,” said Peshura, “But some lishas
gave into their desires, and as punishment the Sun pulled Himself closer to the
world, turning it to desert. At that time there was a lisha named Sapesh and a
hurum named Galka, who were full of righteousness and love for each other. But
as the rivers ran dry and game was nowhere to be found, Sapesh naturally began
to hunger for Galka. When she ran, he gave chase. She pleaded the Sun for help,
and He sent a sparrow who led her through the mountains. For weeks the sparrow
guided her through ravines and over rockfaces, and still Sapesh pursued them.
“Eventually, they reached the other side of the mountains,
the mystical land of Reklua. There the sparrow took Galka to a magnificent tree
that almost reached the sky. The tree spoke to her: ‘Pluck the leaves from the
vines hanging from my branches, tear off the bark from my trunk, and brew them
together in boiling water. When the one who is hunting you arrives, offer the
brew to him’
“Galka brewed the concoction as the tree had commanded, and
soon after she had finished Sapesh arrived at the roots of the tree. Galka said
to him, ‘Dearest friend, I know you are tired and famished, I know how ardently
you want me in your belly, but before you partake of my flesh, I only ask that
you drink this first.’ Sapesh smelled the brew and said, ‘Would you poison me,
to save yourself? No, I see only truth in your eyes. In the name of our
friendship, I will do as you ask. But know that my belly will not be so easily
placated, it demands that it possess you, and as much as it saddens me to do
its bidding, I am too weak to deny it’
Anka heard Hyza mumbling to herself. She was nestled in
Lysta’s arms, her eyes closed but moving as though she was dreaming. Had
Peshura’s story sent her to sleep?
“And so Sapesh drank the brew, and then devoured poor,
trembling Galka. For a moment he felt the satisfaction of a full stomach, but
then nausea fell upon him. Against his will, he spewed Galka forth. As soon as
she landed on the ground, a meadow of golden wheat drooping with heavy heads
sprouted from the dusty soil. Ganas, hapas and other animals burrowed out of the
earth and approached Sapesh and Galka, eager to do their bidding. They never
knew hunger again.
“Orokosa is a gift from the Sun. He realised that lishas
could not deny their hunger for hurums, and so gave them a way to satisfy their
desires without killing their friends. This story reminds us of the Sun’s
kindness and His desire for lishas and hurums to live together in peace. The
Sapphire Temple was built to instil this message in Kurush, and the very
embodiment of that message is this idol of Sapesh and Galka, carved from one of
the branches of the Talking Tree, older than Kurush itsel-“
“No!”
All heads turned to Hyza, her eyes red and defiant.
“Pardon me?” said Peshura
“You think the Sun rewarded a lisha for eating a hurum
against her will?” said Hyza, “How can that be the symbol of peace between
lishas and hurums? That idol is wrong!”
Peshura marched up to her, her unblinking eyes radiating fury,
“To some who don’t know better it might just be a fun way to spend an evening,
but the act of being eaten with orokosa is sacred. It’s how we show the Sun
that we respect His generosity and His laws. What are you doing? Are you
listening to me?”
Hyza had crawled off of Lysta’s lap and was busily moulding a
mound of earth with her hands. Anka stared intently at it, but could not figure
out what she was sculpting.
“This!” said Hyza, “This is what the idol is meant to be.
Galka sitting on Sapesh’s shoulders”
Peshura scoffed, “And how would some Paruan peasant girl
know that?”
“Because as you told your story, I was taken there. I spoke
with Galka, and she told me the right way. She told me that I am her and she is
me”
Peshura erupted, “Blasphemy! Never have I heard such
blasphemy! You are just some ditzy girl who has never had a theological thought
in her life, not righteous and holy Galka”
“Calm down, Peshura,” said Oresh, still lounging on the
ground, “let her do her thing”
Peshura’s terrifying glower was now aimed at Oresh, “When a
blasphemer dies, their soul is consumed by the raging fires of the Sun, every piece
of them slowly, excruciatingly burnt away, their reason, their memories, their
loves disappearing into nothingness, until eventually there is not even a
fragment left. It would be better for them to be consumed by fire whilst they
are still alive, if there was a chance that they repented in their final
moments”
Oresh seemed oblivious to her wrath, “These mushrooms really
are amazing! They let us peek behind the veil of the world and ponder the true
nature of reality. What if Hyza is simply telling the truth?”
Still fuming, Peshura stomped away, “Clearly those mushrooms
are wasted on the uninitiated”
Anka had heard and understood all the words that had been
said, but it was taking her some time to piece them together, imagining them
like a pebble that knocked a rock that hit a boulder that caused a landslide.
Did Hyza really believe she was the reincarnation of a woman from ancient
legends?
“You said the Sun is real, but the stories are made up,
right?”
“The experience of the Sun is real,” said Oresh, “but only He
knows what He really is. Maybe He is just a ball of fire”
“If the experience is real, why isn’t that enough? Why make
up stories?”
“Maybe they make it easier to understand reality, with all
its trauma, beauty, mystery… also, sometimes stories are just fun to tell”
“But they’re also used by the powerful to justify their
position,” said Anka, “Peshura’s so defensive of that wooden carving because it
justified the existence of the Sapphire Temple. Not that that matters anymore”
“True, but people believe those stories – including those
who tell them. They stir the heart, they propel people to do things that no
rational argument ever could. That’s why they’re so powerful, that’s how
they’re used like a weapon,” Oresh’s face lit up, “maybe that’s what we need to
do, wield Peshura’s story like a weapon. A story about lishas and hurums living
in peace. Orokosa itself is practically a metaphor for tempering hierarchy by guaranteeing
safety”
“Surely a prude like you isn’t saying that orokosa is a good
thing?” Anka said teasingly
“Well, I suppose eating someone with orokosa is like
playacting the actual thing. It’s just a harmless fantasy, there’s nothing
wrong with that. And when fantasy and reality meet, maybe wonderful things can
happen”
Oresh was looking down at her with steady eyes. Behind the
calm pensiveness, Anka thought she could see a trace of hunger flicker in his
oval pupils. Her face turned red.
She looked away and cleared her throat, “But is it right to
use fantasy like that? There’s this lisha called Kyroz, he convinced people
that the Sun had told him that hurums are inferior. We can’t deceive and
manipulate people like that. Hope has to be built on facts”
“But facts aren’t enough for hope,” said Oresh, “When you’re
fighting a monster, you have to take care not to become a monster yourself, but
that doesn’t mean you can’t learn from your enemy. If it works for Kyroz, maybe
it would work for us”
“But a story they’ve never heard before is hardly going to
unify the Paruans. And even for us from Kurush, Peshura is just a priestess
without a temple. All she has is a crooked old sculpture of a lisha eating a
hurum against her will. And some mushrooms”
Hyza was still moulding her model of a hurum on a lisha’s
shoulders, whilst jabbering at Lysta who was watching in a daze, “I’m telling
you, you’re Sapesh! I’m telling you”
Anka’s mind slowly rolled towards an idea, “But maybe we
could give an old story a new twist. One that gives Paruans a central role”
Anka and Oresh finessed the idea until it felt like they had
spent an epoch talking it through. They went to find Peshura, who was sitting
by herself on the hillside.
“What do you want?”
Oresh sat beside her, “I’m sorry for talking back at you. I
know you’re still mourning, we all are”
“She was my only child. How can I have any hope for the
future without her?”
“That’s what we wanted to talk about,” said Anka, “How would
you like to rebuild the Sapphire Temple?”
Next chapter
Constructive criticism welcome
© Paul Bramhall