Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles (18 page)

“That’s because it is. Art is beauty, and beauty is art. Do you know what the word for woman means in my language?”

“Female, I’d suppose.”

She shook her head. “Mi’il” means creator. Women have always been creators. We build tools, we build families, we build friendships. To create life is to be a woman. And in our dreams, sometimes we even create new worlds using our imaginations.”

He wrinkled his nose. “So, how do you explain me?”

A faint smile crossed her lips. “You’re so creative; I’ve always assumed you had a little bit of woman in you.”

Albashire nearly snickered at the ridiculousness of what she had said, but the looks of her guards told him to stifle it. It may have seemed absurd to him, but he could tell from their reactions that the Queen had just paid him the deepest of compliments.

He thought back on the notes she had given him. “So, let me ask you something. Why critique my books? Why not just write about your own perfect world yourself?”

“I tried to once, but I lack your gifts.”

“Why, what happened when you tried to write?”

The Queen turned away and walked towards another pedestal. “The pain from this world followed me there.”

As the Queen passed a smooth section of the wall, the amber began to glow and reshaped itself into an archway, etched with holy sigils, a thin membrane of amber preventing one from viewing beyond.

Albashire gasped and stepped towards the archway. “Amazing, what manner of magic is this?”

The Queen spun around. “Please, do not…!”

As he reached out his hand, the archway rippled with power and he was thrown backwards. Captain Tallia leapt before a pedestal and caught him just before he crashed into it.

Everyone looked on in worry as the scroll fragment on the pedestal stirred slightly from the wind his body had created. No one dared move or breathe until the delicate paper settled back down, unharmed.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Stupid man!” Captain Tallia barked, dropping Albashire to the floor.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he apologized as he stood up. “Just what was that?”

“That is not for you to know,” Captain Tallia threatened.

“It is all right,” Queen Forsythia calmed. “It is no sin to know of it, only to divulge the holiness within.”

The Queen handed her son to Alder, then stepped up and placed her hand upon the archway. The amber shimmered at her touch and seemed to calm down. “This is the entrance to the inner sanctum,” she explained. “One of the most holy places in the forest. A place where the daughters of the forest may commune with their mother goddess directly. I can say no more of it, only that this doorway only appears when Wysterian magic is near, and only women may enter.”

Alder lowered his eyes sadly at the mention of it.

“My Queen, I am not comfortable with you speaking of sacred things before an outsider,” Archivist Teak warned.

Realizing the trouble he could be in, Albashire bowed as deeply as he could, trying to mimic the Wysterian manner he had seen the men use. “Queen Forsythia, I thank you for the trust you have shown in me by sharing this information with me. I swear to you, by the bones of my ancestors, I will never speak of it to others.”

“I accept your oath,” the Queen said. “And now, I must attend to the business that has led me here.”

Teak and Tallia were not satisfied, but they held their tongues.

The Queen reached another pedestal where Alder awaited her. “Is this what you wanted to show me, husband?”

“Yes, I believe I have made a breakthrough in my research.”

Albashire peeked around the armored form of a guard to get a better look at the withered scroll Alder was standing over.

“This is the remains of a court document from the third era, during which Milia had transcribed the bulk of the written law we have today. Now, you can see here most of the top corner has been burned away, but we can still make out a few lines.”

Archivist Teak folded her arms, clearly irritated.

“I’iamma mandi’iu ta orasui’i tovuh verus,” Alder read aloud. “Or in the common tongue, ‘and when they were all seated, Milia stood, taking in hand her…’”

Alder paused knowingly.

“…staff,” Teak finished. “I should think a Forsythian house husband would know such a simple word.”

Alder straightened himself excitedly.

“You think it is mistranslated?” Queen Forsythia inferred.

Alder nodded. “I mean no disrespect to our scholars, of course, but yes, I believe they have been mistranslating that final word.

Teak clucked her tongue in disgust. “There is no other way to read ‘ri’iatu’ other than ‘staff.’”

Alder bowed to her respectfully. “You are correct, of course, but look here, the burnt section begins half way through the final glyph. I believe that this phrase has been mistranslated because the end of the word was cut off. This is not ‘ri’iatu,’ it is ‘ri’iatuun,’”

“’Companion?’” Teak scoffed.

Alder nodded. “This is not a word for a thing; it is a word for a person. Milia’s companion.”

“Milia’s companion?” Albashire repeated, growing interested.

“No, that cannot be correct,” Teak choked out, trying to control her voice. “Look there, the second vowel has a breve above it. Diacritics only appear when describing objects, never people.”

“What are diacritics?” Albashire asked.

All the women turned to him harshly. Only the Queen remained dispassionate.

“What?” he asked stupidly.

The Queen leaned in towards him. “The little squiggly marks above letters.”

“Ohhhhhh.”

“How is it possible for an author to be ignorant of such things?” Alder wondered.

Albashire backed away in embarrassment. “Hey, I let my editors handle all that stuff.”

Archivist Teak turned back to Athel. “My Queen, this man is clearly wasting your time. I feel I must restate my objections to his presence here.”

“Your objections are noted.”

The Queen turned back to her husband. “I’m afraid I must concur with the Archivist, husband. The presence of the breve makes it impossible for the word to be read ‘companion’ as you assert.”

“That would be correct, of course. If it was really a breve.”

Teak narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“Please, hold your breath and look at it straight on.”

At Alder’s insistence, the women held out their hands, causing the amber to slowly grow, raising the pedestal. Alder got a little light-headed and had to drop to his knees to maintain his balance. As the paper reached eye-level, they could see the breve was not ink, but a piece of dirt, clearly rising up above the paper.

The Queen’s eyes widened a little. “It is a smudge?”

“Impossible,” Teak whispered.

Alder stood up triumphantly. “Yes, it is a smudge. The phrase correctly reads, ‘and when they were all seated, Milia stood, taking in hand her companion.’”

Archivist Teak lowered the pedestal back down. “There is no way we could have missed that. You must have altered the scroll.”

Alder straightened himself. “Begging your pardon, but I would never do such a thing.”

“You did! You must have. There is no way a man could notice something a woman could miss.”

“If my husband placed the smudge there, then why was the word always translated as ‘staff’ in the past?” Queen Forsythia asked coolly.

Teak stepped backwards. “I…I…”

Albashire tapped on his chin. “But, what does that mean, then? ‘Milia’s companion.’ Is it like a title perhaps?”

“Who would be a companion to Milia?” Queen Forsythia wondered aloud.

Alder shook his head. “There’s no way it could be a title. Look at the first letter. Titles have a tilde before the first letter. This is a description.”

“A friend, perhaps? Someone close to Milia?” Captain Tallia surmised.

“When have you ever heard of a God being that close to a mortal? Mortals are children to the Gods, servants, never equals. This can only refer to another god.”

Teak stepped forwards. “This is blasphemy. We should not be speaking of such things.”

Albashire’s eyes went wide. “Another god, that’s it!”

“There is only one god in Wysteria. Stop speaking. You will bring upon us the wrath of Milia!”

Albashire reached into his pocket excitedly and checked something as he looked around.

“I’m afraid I must agree with the other Matrons, Alder,” Queen Forsythia said. “This speculation is clearly dangerous.”

“But this is not speculation,” Alder said steadily. “This is what our scriptures say. We must face them without looking away.”

“We should involve the High Priestess in this,” Teak counseled. “She speaks for Milia on such matters.”

Forgetting himself, Albashire pointed up at the ceiling. “There should be one more door in this room.”

Everyone quieted down and looked at him.

“Haven’t you caused enough damage already?” Captain Tallia warned. “Are you trying to get yourself executed?”

“I’m telling you there is another door in here.”

“How can you know that?” Alder asked.

Teak threw up her hands. “This sanctuary has been in use for thousands of years. If there were another door, we would know about it.”

“Not if it was hidden,” Albashire said.

“I’ve heard enough of this,” Captain Tallia hollered, drawing her saber. Two of the guards grabbed the wiry man and began binding his wrists.

“Wait.”

The guards paused at the Queen’s command. Carefully she leaned forward on her staff. “I would like to hear your reasoning.”

Albashire thanked the Queen as his bonds were released. “Queen Forsythia. Back on Taldives, the heart of the Temple of Spirit has doorways that line up to the cardinal points, to make it easier for Estus to manifest himself to his servants. I believe that this place follows a similar pattern. Look back there, the entrance points exactly true south from here, towards the Dragon Isles where the gods first came into our world, and the entrance to Milia’s sanctum points north-northwest towards Illium, the constellation of Milia herself.”

Archivist Teak clenched her fist. “How can you possibly know that? We are deep underground.”

“Perhaps his people can sense the ley lines of the land,” Alder theorized.

Albashire blinked. “What? No.” He held up his hand and uncurled his fingers, revealing his pocket compass.

“Oh.”

Albashire pointed up at the ceiling. “Haven’t any of you ever wondered why there are seventy-nine holy constellations, but only seventy-eight gods?”

“You are referring to I’iers,” Alder realized. “The faceless constellation.”

“Yes.” Albashire checked his compass again, giddy as a schoolboy. He found I’iers above and followed it to a place on the wall. The rest of them followed him hesitantly.

“I must say, you are very animated about this,” Queen Forsythia noted.

“Are you kidding? The faceless constellation is the greatest mystery of our time. Why do you think I became a writer in the first place?”

“I believe you said it was to make money,” Captain Tallia quipped.

Albashire came to a featureless place on the wall, about twenty feet to the right of Milia’s door.

“This is the spot. This lines up with the faceless constellation. It should be here.”

They all looked at the flat spot he had indicated. The Queen doubtfully stepped forward and placed her hand on the wall, but nothing happened.

“This is a waste of time,” Teak complained. “Matrons must have stood there thousands of times over the years. If there were a door, it would have been revealed by now.”

Albashire was undaunted. “Well, you said Milia’s door only reveals itself to women. Maybe this one only reveals itself to men.”

“Preposterous,” Teak scoffed. “Men have no place here. You shouldn’t even be in here.”

“He is here on my invitation,” Queen Forsythia said, gently rebuking her. “And I said it only allows women to pass,” she corrected. “It is Wysterian magic that reveals the door.”

Albashire scratched the back of his neck. “Well, maybe men’s magic reveals this door.”

The women snickered. Only Athel remained silent.

“Men don’t have magic, they are rootless,” Teak spat.

Captain Tallia bristled at the obvious dig taken towards her. She turned to Teak, her hand on her hilt, but a gentle glance from the Queen calmed her.

“Your men really don’t have any magic at all?” Albashire sniffed.

“No, we don’t,” Alder sad sadly, lowering his eyes. “It is because we don’t have souls.”

Albashire was shocked. “I’ve never heard of a people anywhere on Aetria who had no magic at all. Even the Diades can create magical aromas. It’s not terribly useful, but at least they can do it.”

Captain Tallia took her hand off her weapon. “We know, a bunch of them are stinking up the southern peninsula as we speak.”

Queen Forsythia placed a gentle hand on Alder’s shoulder. “I would remind you husband, that while the doctrine of men lacking souls is the traditional explanation of the church, it is not actually contained anywhere in the scriptures.”

Alder glanced up gratefully. “Yes, you are right.”

“Of course they are soulless,” Teak sneered. “What other explanation could there be? A magical connection to a god is the very definition of a soul. If men had souls, they would be able to use magic.”

“But there is one,” Alder spoke up. “One male on Wysteria who does have magic.”

They all turned to Alder as he held the sleeping baby in his arms.

“So the rumors are true,” Teak said, stepping back, raising her hands as if to protect herself. “How could you bring such a thing here?”

The Queen closed her eyes. “I had hoped to keep that knowledge contained until the Spirit Weaver arrived.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Alder apologized. “But, I truly think Mister Albashire may be onto something here.”

“Why are we even listening to these men?” Teak snarled. “Let us be rid of them.”

“The dragons said the men of Wysteria had been severed from their god,” Alder pleaded. “What if this is him?”

“Such blasphemy,” Teak spat.

“My Queen, we really should be getting back to court. People are waiting for you,” Captain Tallia cautioned.