[Zerlina]

The world is white, hazy, and it is only now that smoke gives way to what has remained hidden. They say you can never forget your life, you can only hide from it. Every thought, every feeling is the present, and though time may pass, you never truly lose yourself, for it is only your actions that slip into the eternal past.

Now is the dawn of a new eternity. One where chaos will end and the pieces of our once divided continent shall finally be placed together.

I sit now, upon the throne of the Oracle, waiting for news from the southern king. He is to send a messenger with tales of his newest reasoning. Of course, I already know what he will say, for Isthar -the goddess of the moon- has shown me reflections of the future in her Blessed Pool, which lies in front of me. I can see her visions freely, whenever I desire. Yet even as this is so, I know that the celestial maiden has not told me of all that is to come. That is the way her truth is sometimes- bright and clear, yet elusive and unreachable like a distant reflection. I understand this and it is this understanding that sets me apart from the rest of the world. Though I will never speak of it, I know that many of the souls would be able to see the truth too, if only they looked in the right places. But that is the way of humanity, I suppose, they always believe in and follow what is false.

My name is Llideah, and I am the oracle and priestess of Ishtar’s Temple. Men speak of my birth as if it were something miraculous. They tell tales of how I descended from the sky as a child, having once been a shooting star. I was supposedly found afterward by a kindly woman in a field whom the gods later rewarded and raised to salvation. This is of course, untrue, yet this mythmaking is also part of the nature of man.

In truth, I was born in a mountain town and abandoned when the northerners destroyed my parents’ land. I was sent down to the countryside at the base of the mountain, where an old woman took me in and taught me to work in the fields. When I was thirteen years old, she left this world, but she gave me the greatest of all teachings: seek not the material as men do, but desire a higher understanding and so find salvation. This salvation peace and joy in the afterlife- is what I crave for even now. For through the Blessed Pool I have seen many of my lives and know only of the suffering that I have endured. If it is the will of the goddess, then I hope once I finish my duties in this world, my soul will be allowed to become part of the great eternal.

That is all very far off, hopefully, though nothing is for certain. I have not seen my death, and I do not wish to. They say that such visions can plague weak souls, and turn what was once pure into darkness. My soul is weak. Most are. The trick lies in pretending that you are greater- to survive as a venom-less snake one must play the python or else be devoured by a hawk.

It is evening and Kain, the messenger, still has yet to come. I begin to become impatient, though I sit as still and expressionless as marble.

Unfortunately, even marble must crack sometimes. And so it is as I see the familiar cloak enter from the furthest passage. I do not even have to ask who is under it.

“Greetings, Gadriel.” I say as he approaches, leaving rainy footprints on the stone floor.

The room is a long passage, marked with rows of milky pillars on each side. In the half of the room I sit in, the ceiling is adorned with bas relief- images of the goddess and stories of her triumphs. The half where Gadriel enters from has no roof so the rain still falls steadily upon him. Through this ceiling-less half I can always see the greenery of the surrounding forest. The temple sits on a hill, and the area opposite to me is lower than where I sit. It is made this way because of days like this, when it rains; if it were to be faced the other way, then the rain should always spill toward me; a bad sign. Along two sides of the floor there are lowered paths to catch the water and send it out. Though I have sat here every day for two years now, I always wonder at the design of the temple. It was built and designed by peasants ages ago, and yet it is so beautiful and intelligently constructed.

I am pulled out of my musings as the echo of Gadriel’s footsteps tell me he is close.

“Fair day to you, Priestess Llideah…” he says, as he bows his head, a sign of respect to the goddess Ishtar.

“What is it that you seek today?” I ask, formality masking my desire to speak to him more personally.

He smiled and raised his head “Shouldn’t you know?”

“It is not the place of mortals to jest within the home of a goddess.” I tell him, knowing he is referring to my power of foresight “I ask you only as a formality. You are here on your father’s behalf.”

“That is an interesting way to put it.” The comment has struck a nerve.

“He was a good man.” I remind him “And his spirit has already returned to the home you’ve made for him. Do not fear for his soul.”

Gadriel nodded “Your words are comfort, yet that is not why I have come.”

“Oh?”

“I wish to know the nature of his death. How it was that he was healthy one day and cold the next.”

“It is not the place of mortals to question the decision of the gods.”

“Please tell me…”

“I cannot. It is their will that he die and that is all that I can tell you. Return home, Gadriel. There is nothing you can do.”

“That’s a lie and you know it!” he cried, his sudden rage catching me off-guard.

Something was not right. He must have been angry the whole time to explode so quickly. Yes, that was it. His earlier respect had only been a mask to hide his true feelings. Gadriel was such a clever man, yet even with all this he could not hide from me. It was as useless as lying beneath glass.

But even as I knew this man, inside and out, I found myself watching helplessly, as he committed the greatest crime, and walked straight through Ishtar’s Blessed Pool- the one thing, which had always kept me separate from the common people. For a moment I faltered but it was only a second before I resumed my position. He now stood on the steps in front of me, his shoes soaked with the water of disrespect.

“Why do you hide things from me, Llideah?” he asked.

Such disrespect in the temple…

“Priestess Llideah…” I corrected.

“Llideah.” he repeated.

What was I to do? Not to answer would be to deny a man the information he longed for most. To speak would be to condone his behaviour and bring my own self down. For a while I was quiet, uncomfortable with the idea that he had crossed the boundary of respect and now stood too close before me.

“Y-your father was a lord of great power…” I said finally, hearing my once perfect voice become shaky and afraid “His fate was delivered from the hands of King Dokri.”

There was a silence before Gadriel smiled and laughed; I could see his lips were tight and his eyes glossy. This was not the laugh of a man who did not care. It was the laugh of a man who did not know how to react.

“Such an easy thing for him to do! To so quickly steal a man away from his kingdom and his son!”

“I’m sorry, Gadriel.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Llideah?” he asked “You knew this was going to happen! Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

This was my fault now? He had not come for counsel and so I had not obliged him. If he did not come then it was not the will of the gods to have his father saved. I couldn’t have played a part in this man’s death. I couldn’t have.

Finally, I spoke up, my demeanor once more like seamless marble. This was how I wanted to be. Marble statues were beautiful and admired. They were perfect, untouchable, haunting and strong. There is nothing you can do to break them, for they are art and art is immortal.

“It was not my place to warn you.” I said, coldly, for that is also a trait for marble.

I could see the hurt in his eyes, the way that his soul tore at the very words. I pitied him and yet I became afraid. We were alone and he was now a man of fire- one consumed by the heat of rage and sorrow. Even the gentlest of beasts become fierce when they are tormented with unbearable pain. In cold and invisible fear, I looked upon him not knowing what he would do.

He raised his head and stared at me, his eyes like painful chisels. Moving further up the steps, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the stairs, in a second marble crumbled and I fought him back. Something was wrong, and for once I did not understand it. Was he going to kill me? Did he wish to avenge his father this way? He led me down the stairs and brought me to the floor so that my face was over Ishtar’s pool. He held my head there so I could not look away.

Of course, this was his game. Gadriel was angry, but he would not ever hurt me. He was a good man and dishonour was beyond the ability of his soul. It was information he wanted, for he was afraid. It was that same fear that consumed Kani; the kind that ensured he would never break free from the wheels of life. I sometimes wonder if I should be consumed by this fear too. If it is only because I can see so easily that I am not afraid.

“What do you see?” he asked, and I knew the very action of holding my head down was causing him pain “Tell me what you see and why you could not tell me earlier! My father is dead! Do you not understand? He is dead! And all you can say is that it wasn’t your ‘place’ to warn me! I know your heart is cold, and yet your cruelness surprises me…how could you, Llideah?”

((con'td next page))