Coil of Worlds

Although all Kurites upheld the tenets given by both the God and Goddess, the priesthood was split into two distinct but cohesive groups. The women and female pakas dealt with the questions believers had regarding the Goddess, while the men and male pakas did the same for God. They lived within the same House and often labored together in their endeavor to help a supplicant. Because Eiren had never entered the House with the intent to review maps of tombs, she debated which of the priests would be called to accommodate them.

She knew there was a subset of priests who were charged with looking after the dead. God was the purveyor of the dead, watching over the souls as they left the physical world behind, but the Goddess was mercy and blessing personified. Thus, it was possible the priests were both male and female. Eiren heard a hushed rustle from the other side of the door, and she straightened into a more dignified sitting position.

The door creaked open, and a pair of gold eyes surrounded by a golden headdress came into view. The gold band proclaimed her a priestess, a devoted follower of the Goddess. The female paka gave them each a bow and intoned the ritual words for their entry.

The priests of both the God and Goddess welcome you into this House. Our House provides every petitioner with assistance in their spiritual journey. What is it you seek?

Eiren bowed at the same time as Chion and listened while he explained what they sought. Priestess, we ask for entry into your House. We search for answers regarding the fate the Goddess has given us. In order to gain these answers, we are in search for maps of a specific burial chamber that was in use approximately a thousand years ago.

He bowed his head, looking down at the ground in deference. We have searched the depths of both Malkese’s and Areth’s library. We did not find records of any burial chambers. As the priesthood is the guardians of the dead, we seek a priest or priestess who can assist us in our quest.

The priestess regarded them for a long while, seeming to judge their intent. In all my years with the priesthood, I must admit this request is the first of its kind. I am not the one to assist you, but the caretakers of the dead will provide you with what you desire. Before you cross this threshold, you must both understand the importance of your request. The maps of the dead are sacred to us. Until you find what you seek, you will be unable to leave our House. Are you willing to spend days within our walls while you search?

Eiren shared a determined look with Chion before they both nodded. We hope to find the answers to our destiny. We are willing to sacrifice our freedom until we find what we seek or we conclude there are no answers within these walls. We await two more. Our Tal’Ais are completing our last task before joining us here.

The priestess gave both of them another searching look before nodding her head. Her eyes shimmered with an unspoken emotion, showing the gentle soul that hid behind serenity. You may both enter our House. Do not fear for your bonded mates. After all, you have been blessed by the Goddess herself. Tal’Ais are celebrated within these walls as the gifts they are. Her benevolence is most easily seen through the soul bonds of pakas and humans. If they arrive this night, I’ll guide them to you.

The door groaned as it opened further, providing them enough room to cross the priesthood’s threshold together. Skye, we’ve entered the House. When you come to the door, the priestess will bring you to us. Is Lara almost finished with the copy?

She heard him snort in response. It’s a slow process. Lara is unfamiliar with our writing utensils. I had to teach her how to dip the bone into the ink jar.

Will she complete the copy tonight?

Yes, she’s writing faster as she becomes more familiar with the ink and bone.

When you leave the library, take the left corridor. Have Lara look for the sigil of the God and Goddess along the corridor.

Walking through a short hallway, Eiren was brought up short at the intersection. The Priesthood’s House was the only place in Areth with a stream running through the middle of the hallway. The hallway was wider than any she’d seen in her life. They followed the slow progression of the priestess as she stepped onto the decorative bridge. Eiren peered over the edge into the clear water below. The stream gurgled as water flowed over the rocks and rushed away with the current.

They went deeper into the House, passing massive, open doorways that led to different sections of the House. Individuals wearing the white robes of petitioners glanced their way as they passed, but no one spoke. The etchings in the walls changed from pictures of celebration and spiritual renewal to portrayals of funerals and people who kneeled and wept for their loved ones.

The silence was eerie—the air heavy, weighted, more concentrated. The hair on her neck bristled, and Eiren studied the corridor. An entity awaited them, almost as if it expected them.

It felt neither evil nor good. Rather, it felt…anticipatory.

Wanting to escape the atmosphere pressing in around her, she prayed they were almost to their destination. But the atmosphere became more daunting the deeper they walked. She hunched in on herself, making her body a smaller target.

Leaving the stream behind, they took the stairs one step at a time, and she noticed a slight odor grow steadily stronger. The smell of stale air and another unrecognizable, distinctive scent reached her. She turned her head to look back at Chion, needing to remind herself she wasn’t alone in the bowels of Areth. He sniffed the air, and Eiren felt a little better seeing his reaction. The silence descended to a level where Eiren couldn’t hear anything, including their footsteps. They were completely cocooned by the weighty air.

It was as if they had passed the boundaries of the living and converged onto the dead’s domain. She wanted to flee back to safety, but the priestess stopped.

Breaking the spell surrounding them, the paka said without looking at them, Tal’Ais, please wait here.

She left them in the corridor, pushing the thick curtain aside with her nose. In a few breaths of time, the priestess came back out and passed them without a word, retracing her slow steps back to the House gate. Eiren glanced over at Chion, and saw his ears twitch as he strained to hear beyond the doorway, but there was only silence.

Time crawled down here, messing with her internal clock. After a while, she felt as if she had been waiting for days. She fidgeted. Eventually, Eiren’s heart rate slowed, and a sense of calm swept through her, easing her disconcertment.

My Lord? Can you hear me? she whispered.

Skye response was faint, as if the underbelly where the dead slept buffered their ability to speak to one another. I hear you. Lara has rewritten the scroll. We’re following the sigils as you instructed. We made a detour to Lara’s room and picked up the coil. Lara hesitated to leave it unguarded, and I agreed. We should reach the gate shortly.

His confidence came through their bond, giving her the strength to reply in a more normal voice. I didn’t think about the coil. We’re waiting in front of the doorway to the House of the Dead for admittance. The priestess should be at the gate when you ring the bell. It is possible you and Lara will meet us before we gain admittance.

Chion lay down with a sigh. I see the caretakers move on their own timetable. We might as well settle in for the wait. He lifted a paw toward her and chuffed at her. Come, sit.

She could feel Chion’s regard, waiting to see what she’d do. She paced a few more times before lying down beside him. When she finally quit fidgeting and stilled, Chion lowered his head to her right haunch. She felt his warm breath blow through her coat. His patience and contentment traveled through her with every breath he took, and her eyes closed of their own accord.

Eiren enjoyed the closeness as they waited. The silence sank into her bones. Already calm, her mind shut down. Emptied of her usual thoughts, she was left counting each deep breath she took.

When she reached five hundred, she heard a faint commotion behind her. Chion’s head lifted from her back hip, and Eiren lifted her head with a jerk, not realizing until then that she’d rested it on her forepaws.

My Lord, is that you?

Who else would come down to visit the sleeping dead?

She chuckled and climbed to her feet. As promised, the same priestess led the small group to where they waited. She thought it odd that Lara gripped Skye’s arm until she realized Lara wasn’t guiding him. Pale, the woman used his strength to walk down the stairs.

The priestess went through the doorway without a word. Looking particularly spooked, Lara released Skye before running over and wrapping herself around Chion’s neck in a tight hug. Eiren knew Chion spoke to her through their personal bond since Lara shuddered a few times and kept shaking her head.

Skye reached down to scratch her between her ears in exactly the right place. In between purrs, she asked, What is wrong with Lara?

She didn’t say, and I did not ask. The farther down we walked, the closer she stood beside me until she had my arm and hand in a vise. He pumped his hand a few times. She cut off my circulation, so I leaned down to pull her away. When I actually turned and paid attention to how she was acting, I didn’t have the heart. I can’t see her facial expression with my magic, but even I can tell she is miserable down here.

Eiren nosed his hand to remind him about her untouched ears. Perhaps she feels an emotion we can’t. When I entered the stairway, I sensed a presence, an unknown entity. She paused for a moment before admitting, The silence got to me, making me edgy.

When the priestess returned, she was accompanied by a smiling priest wearing a brown robe. From her studies, Eiren knew the brown robes symbolized the dead body’s return to the earth while the soul traveled to the afterlife. The priestess started back up the stairs.

Eiren stared at the young priest. Although Kurites were pale due to the lack of sunlight, the young man’s complexion was washed out. He didn’t look old enough to have reached the status of a full priest. His chin carried the soft hair of an adolescent beard. Yet, he graced them all with a serene smile, pulling aside the curtain so they could enter.

After walking through a nondescript hallway, the priest led them to a small office. He maneuvered around his desk, gave them a small bow, and said without preamble, “You seek a map of the tombs. As the God and Goddess have destined me as the head mapmaker until I am called to the next life, I was assigned to serve you. As petitioners, you wish to visit the tombs.” He studied their faces before dropping his eyes to his desk. In that moment, his youth disappeared, replaced with the knowing gaze of one who saw death on a daily basis.

His young mouth quirked on one side, and he waved to the chairs in front of him. “Please, have a seat. Your request is more difficult than any petitioner realizes.”

A wide bench allowed her to sit next to Skye, her tail trailing down his left leg. Steepling his hands together, the priest raised his eyes to the ceiling before returning his powerful gaze to them. For such a young man, his eyes held her in his grip until he released her and moved on to Skye.

“I don’t know how long it will take to find the map you seek since I don’t yet know the Kurite’s name. However, this isn’t the concern.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the wide desk. Papers crinkled beneath his weight. “If you intend to enter the chambers of the dead beyond these doors, understand there are rituals that must be followed. You are required to purge all traces of guilt and pride, for these emotions are dangerous within the realm of the dead.”

Lara whispered to Chion, “Dangerous?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Eiren saw Lara skim her hand along the other bench until she touched Chion’s foot. Skye turned his head to look at Eiren with one eyebrow cocked.

Having heard Lara’s soft murmur, the priest nodded as if she had asked him the question. “Yes, sare. There are few who are destined to be the caretakers of the dead for this reason alone. A priest or priestess must have a singular type of soul for serving the dead. Normally, the dead wouldn’t be cause for worry. The souls of the living are relinquished at the time of the person’s passing.”

He sighed, shifted back in his seat, drumming his fingers across the armrest. “Over the last thousand years, as the animals and Kurites were transformed by the magic that accumulated inside the tunnel walls, so has the House of the Dead changed as well.”

Chion interrupted, Has the magic kept the souls from moving on?

The priest tapped his armrest again before answering, “No, the souls are safe from harm. I pray that the God or Goddess would never stand by if the souls of their believers were in danger.”

Eiren blew out a sigh of relief. How horrible it would be if the souls couldn’t continue their journey. It would have damned all Kurites to an eternity in the nethers, neither in this world nor the next. Eventually, the soul would fade, unable to continue its nonexistence. She shuddered and moved closer to Skye, and he shifted his weight on the bench, throwing his arm across her back.

“No,” the priest repeated. “The priesthood of the dead has come to believe the magic absorbs the pain and suffering of the grieving family members and friends. In ancient times, people often visited the chambers. Funerals took place at the tomb’s location. Before, well, ceremonies for council members and heroes had throngs of people walking through the House of the Dead paying their respects. Then the priests who came before me realized the magic was turning into something else, something more. The townspeople’s grief became overwhelming soon after a trip through these chambers. The magic latched onto their sorrow, increasing the depth of their pain.”

The young man’s sorrow etched deeper lines on his forehead and around his eyes. “I’ve read the historic accounts. The passage of time should have eased their pain and suffering, yet people killed themselves because of the melancholy that befell them. Scores of people died before the priesthood could determine the cause.”

Eiren gasped in shock, and she felt Skye’s arm stiffen around her. She had never understood why the tombs were sealed from all visitors. The deaths of the Kurites were a dark taint against the magic they all took for granted. It reminded Eiren of her and Chion’s near deaths at the hands of a maddened child in the forest. Although magic was to be celebrated, magic could—and did—take an obscure form. The magic’s power was never to be taken lightly.

The priest grunted a sound only a man three times his age should have made. Beseeching eyes kept all four of them locked on him as he continued, “I tell you this because your search could have dire consequences to your emotional and mental wellbeing. Even if you meet our demand and complete the rituals, purging your negative emotions, it may not be enough. As you are Tal’Ai, bound in magic, I don’t know how the magic in the walls will affect you. No one does.”

He stood up and gave them another bow. “Now that you know the burden we carry, my brothers and sisters and I ask that you don’t share this knowledge with those outside this House. Few people are privy to our burden. It is why eight hundred years ago a new sect was created within the priesthood to care for the dead.”

They all looked at each other. Lara’s enlarged pupils betrayed her alarm, and without asking, Eiren understood why. Lara’s power was a touchstone for emotions. How would she manage the palpable emotions the magic evoked? Would she be the first to fall prey? Would her barrier be enough? Eiren thought of their reason for searching the ancient tomb. If they could find their answers any other way, she’d renege from their decided path. She feared for herself. But she was also afraid for her friends. Skye’s recent history was filled with pain and despair. Had he healed enough from his exile? Could he traverse the dangers without being harmed?

Skye whispered, Is the danger worth the knowledge we might gain?

Fear rode her tongue, but she held back until she regained her composure. Searching for the words she knew she must give, she asked instead, My Lord, can we afford not to find out?

Can I or you live with the loss of the other? I couldn’t live with the knowledge that my decision caused you harm. My Lady, is the danger worth it if we do not find what we seek? He paused for a moment. Then again, we may never find the map, and we’ll never cross into the chambers of the dead.

She was shaken by his questions. What would happen to them if they chose not to follow this lead? What if they faced the magic and didn’t find the answers they sought? What if they found them, but the answers weren’t what they expected or wanted?

They were at risk with any decision they made. They had survived their trial and other catastrophic ordeals by working together, leaning on each other. It was where they drew their strength. If they were not Tal’Ai but indeed Lan’Ai, their bonds of friendship should see them through the dangers facing their mental and emotional states.

She had to trust in the Goddess and her ultimate plan. It came down to whether she believed in their destined fate enough to face the peril of twisted magic. Like the bell that she rang earlier, she felt the knowledge toll within her. She knew without a doubt that it was worth it. Everything they did or had to do was worth the uncertainty of their safety.