Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation (27 page)

“Aye, Lord Ogunsheye. It is I.”

“What has happened? We heard you scream,” he said, seeing she had drawn her weapon.

“Did it sound like this?” she said, and impaled him. Ogunsheye roared, dropping the flare torch, and Ayame was quick to free her sword from him with a kick to his chest, and the lord fell backward. The First Knight followed up and punctured his breastplate, her blade slicing into his heart and silencing pleas for mercy. She then proceeded on into the shadows of the winding corridor after Shen.

At the end of the passage appeared a faint glow of blue light. When Lady Ayame emerged into the central chamber, she saw Shen standing before a translucent energy field. It surrounded the Holy Orb, a metal sphere, which floated above a ritualistic, decorative pedestal. It entranced Shen, and the light of its shield cast everything in the space a greenish-blue shade.

“Lady Ayame, where's Lord Ogunsheye?” said Lady Ishiko, as she positioned herself between her sister knight and the priest-monk.

“Dead. Now stand aside or follow him in death.”

“What has happened, and to you?” Ishiko said, drawing her sword and pointing it at the First Knight.

“Then death it shall be,” said Ayame, and she lunged into a twirl and swung down on Ishiko, who, forced back after blocking the strike, countered with a low spin and landed an elbow to Ayame's midsection. She was quick to grasp her sister by the arm and flip her over and then leap into the air. Ayame rolled to her feet just as Ishiko landed a stabbing pounce, sparking the stone floor with the miss. As Ishiko stood, Ayame flanked her with an arching low sword spin and sliced the back of her sister's leg at knee level, forcing her to kneel.

“I yield, Lady Ayame,” Ishiko said, dropping her sword as the First Knight stood to claim her head. “I know not what has possessed your right mind, but I beg you to recollect your senses. Lest you forget that you are First Knight of the House of Sarauniya.”

Ayame lifted her sword and clobbered Lady Ishiko on the back of the head with its hilt. The wounded knight dropped to the floor.

“Lord Shen!” said Ayame.

His back was to her, and he touched the energy field.

There was wicked smile on Ayame's face, and then speaking through her, Lord Garai said, “We left the Holy Orb here because the Creator would not permit us to have it by ourselves. She forced us to abandon it here on Maraknus, as we have been forced from Enteria.”

“Aye,” said Shen.

“You, like the others, believe so much in the Holy Orb that if it returned to Enteria, then the Creator would be pleased and forgive you, even right the wrongs of Nousalavians and bring peace to us all.”

“Those before me, and myself—we were wrong,” Shen said.

“Aye. The Creator is displeased with us both. As you now see, neither Sharizardian nor Nousalavian hands can grasp the Orb. Not even the hand of mixed bloodlines such as yours can pass the barrier. And so, She has abandoned us—Her children—to allow us to destroy ourselves. However, we Sharizardians intend to outlast all and reclaim our place as rightful rulers of Enteria, with or without it.”

“It is we—the children—who have abandoned Her,” said Shen. “Even still, war is inevitable, as I thought.”

“Aye.” The First Knight approached the priest-monk.

“The High Priestess, she knows this and let myself and the others blindly follow our belief in the Orb.”

“One's convictions sometimes twist the truth into something it is not. One would be foolish to act on convictions alone.”

“Indeed,” said Shen. “Faith is more than believing, though.” His hand never left the energy field, and he smiled and then said, “It allows one to persevere; to overcome; if necessary, to sacrifice with a free heart.” He lowered his hand, and turned and faced his mate, smiling.

Ayame thrust her sword through Shen. It was at that moment—the moment of his dying—that she was released from the spell of the Shadow Knight. She stepped back, unsheathing her weapon from him, and dazed, she shook her head, frowning at the subsiding ringing in her ears and throbbing of her temples.

When Ayame recovered her senses, she saw Lady Ishiko unconscious on the ground. She looked up, and Shen stood before her, his life draining from him. Glancing at her sword, taken aback that the blood on it could be her mate's, she looked back to him. Tears began to swell in her eyes, and as the sword slipped from her grip, he dropped to the floor. The reverberating noise the sword made before it came to rest brought her out of shock, and she went to Shen and took hold of him. Tears streamed her face.

The priest-monk's smile remained, and reaching up to his mate, from her face, he smeared away a tear, and said, “Do not weep for we…you, have not failed.”

Lady Ayame tried to speak, but only uttered a cry, clutching Shen closer. Being cheek to cheek, with his mouth to her ear, his reciprocation of the hug was weak. “You shall,” he said, “see me…again.” Shen's vitality then faded, and as his arms fell limp, Ayame felt the sudden heaviness of his body and cried out even louder, her anguish echoing about the chamber.

Lady Ayame looked out the open window of her chamber to the rustling canopy of the forest. The tree leaves, in huddles, flip-flopped with a satin shimmer from the gentle breeze. There was a tranquility that rested across the land, and it inspired thoughts of Shen, and tears swelled her eyes. Then there was a knock at her chamber door.

“Aye,” she said, wiping her eyes.

Ume entered. “It's time, milady.”

Ayame nodded and stepped down from the window cove. She followed the chambermaid to the throne room. When she entered, she saw the empty chair of Lord Ogunsheye, the benevolent and forgiving stare of Lady Ishiko, and that even Lord Dumaka was present. Lady Ayame bowed and knelt before Madam Nariko.

The secretariat of the monarch walked out and positioned himself before all. “This court comes together on the four hundred and sixth day of the Lunar New Year to leave go of Lady Ayame as First Knight of the House of Sarauniya; as a noble; and as a resident of the House of Sarauniya,” he said in one breath. “She has been accused and found accountable of unbecoming conduct as First Knight of the House of Sarauniya for having forsaken the matrimony rituals of this house; and for having assaulted Lady Ishiko and having killed Lord Ogunsheye, nobles of her own house; and for having killed a disciple of the Creator, her mate-to-be, Lord Shen. In addition, she is accountable for the incidental indirect deaths of a gentleman of this house and of the shuttle pilot of the Pris Chroma; the incidental deaths of three sentient beasts; and the incidental indirect death of a sentient beast. Lastly, she is accountable for a loss of property, the shuttle of the Pris Chroma, as was owned by Lord Dumaka. Her Majesty shall now pass judgment as decreed by the Council of Nousalons.”

Madam Nariko stood and, as her aide withdrew to his post, stepped to the floor. She looked at her court. “In an ambitious attempt to reconnect with the Creator,” she said, “our house has weakened and has been dishonored. All now ridicule our champion knight, and this house. We have even lost our power of influence with the Council. I for one blame this all on Lord Shen, and would find it much easier to castigate him; but what point is there in marring the dead? I cannot dwell on the deceased; however, Lady Ayame, who had given herself to the priest-monk and was to become one with him, is just as responsible for our downfall as he. Though it is likely neither is entirely to blame for their failed quest to recover the Holy Orb, Lady Ayame has accepted the consequences of her actions, and those of Lord Shen. And so, under the declaration of the Council, she shall be chastened.” Madam Nariko looked to her subject. “Rise.”

Ayame stood with a lowered head.

“I risked my position as matriarch of this house in giving you and Lord Shen a chance to be one.”

“Yes, Your Majesty, to which we are grateful.”

“Of course, there will be talk of whether or not the tragedy of your union was destined,” Madam Nariko said, “but I believe all the talk shall matter not, for it shall be widely known that two hearts had opened, one to the other, and never closed.”

Ayame looked up to her queen, tears swelling in her eyes again.

“However,” she said, “edicts are set in place for a reason, and violations of those decrees and practices should not be tolerated. That was my mistake.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” Ayame said, bowing her head.

“From this day forward, you are a noble no longer. No house shall accept you as such; or as a servant or as otherwise. Because your mate-to-be has died before you were to marry, you are now and forever a maiden, destined to live a life of solitude, to be shunned by all. As follows, the ill-starred tragedy of this house. Without an heir, it is only a matter of time before the House of Sarauniya is forever no more.”

Ayame lifted her head to look at her queen once more. She saw the hurt not of her mistress, but of her sister.

“You shall be confined in isolation for a decade's time, after which you shall be banished from this house and this land, never to return.” Madam Nariko then turned her back to Ayame and said, “Disarm and disrobe her.”

The court was quiet as eight maids skated into its center to unstrap and remove the arms and armor and clothing of their former lady. “Forgive us, milady,” a familiar voice said among them, and Ayame looked to see a despondent Ume; and as quickly as they surrounded her, they dispersed, leaving the maiden mortified and exposed, as she looked to the ground to hide her shame.

“Take her away,” Madam Nariko then said, and the court guards dragged Ayame on her heels from the throne room, through the estate and to its cellar. There, they threw her into an open cell and locked her in its darkness. She curled up to a corner on the cold, damp, dirt floor with only the warmth of her tears.

She recalled the day making Shen's acquaintance, in the market, the day after the start of the Lunar New Year celebrations. The memories of their numerous engagements after that time made her smile. His first mentioning the Holy Orb was her most unforgettable memory of him. The look of resolve, optimism, and contentment on his face, as he talked about the Creator, the relic, and peace between Nousalons and Sharizard, swayed her to believe he was the one. It was their belief in a better way of life for all that had attracted them to each other. She remembered her offer to escort him to Maraknus after hearing of the priest-monks that had failed to return from the desert planet.

“Maraknus,” she said. Her memories of slaying Lord Ogunsheye and attacking Lady Ishiko were vague. She even struggled with the memory of killing Shen. It was hard to accept that she took the life of the one to whom she had opened her heart. In time, her thoughts led to dreams of what should have been.

From the corner opposite the one Ayame coiled up into, a swelling source of greenish-blue light materialized, and as it took over the cell and grayed the darkness, a spirit stepped from it. The translucent form knelt. “Ayame,” it said, “are you well?”

She lifted her head, not sure if she was hearing a familiar voice in her mind, but then she looked over her shoulder. “Shen?” she said, as she turned to the light and smiled. “Aye, Shen.”

“Let go of shame. Free yourself of doubt.”

“I failed you. You trusted me, and I failed to protect you.”

“You have not failed, and my trust in you remains,” he said.

Ayame felt a sense of peace from the absolving words. Eyes swollen, a tear dripped to her cheek as she reached to the spirit. In turn, his hand extended to receive hers.

“Surrender and weigh in your mind and heart all things, and be free,” said Shen. “Only then will your spirit discover the Realm of Eternity. I await you there.”

“I do not understand.”

“You have always tried to reason the Creator's wisdom. Simply believe and overcome, Ayame.”

The fallen lady watched her mate's spirit stand and return to the light. In a feeble, but desperate voice, she called for it to stay; but after enveloping the spirit, the light grew dim, until darkness reclaimed its dominance of the cell. She then huddled herself back into the corner, lowering her head to her knees with a slight rock back and forth.

After a moment, her motion stopped, and her head lifted from realizing the spirit's counsel. Ayame moved to her knees, rested her hands in her lap, closed her eyes, and began to pray. Her breathing slowed as the minutes passed by. She felt her body lighten and her mind clear. She heard a splash and then a chirping fowl. The aroma of blooming flowers and flower trees and the smell of fresh air filled her nose. She exhaled one final, deep breath and opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by the splendor of the mountain lake. Its mystical feel touched her in ways she never imagined, raising her flesh and the fine hairs of her body, as she stood and walked to the lake. At the tarn's edge, she crouched, and her fingertips grazed over the water's surface, floating ripples across it. She stood and looked about.

“Shen!” His name echoed, and when the surrounding forest and mountain lake quieted, she said, “I'm here.”

“Aye,” he said from her rear.

Taken by surprise, Ayame turned and with an elated smile, embraced her beloved.

The High Priestess, in a full Lotus pose, alone in prayer in the orison hall, sat on the comfort of a plush pillow before the enormous statue of Tourname. In the quiet, with her eyes closed, the ever so light whispers of the lit candles throughout the chamber were heard as the flames swayed with the entrance of a cleric. Joining the matriarch, he knelt beside her and looked to the gold sculpted deity aglow.

“All that has happened is as foreseen.”

“Yes, High Priestess, but we should err on the side of caution,” Elder Akron said. “Shen has ignited a sense of spiritual reconciliation unlike those who have gone before. Should it be known that we inspired the Sharizards to kill another, to kill him—”