Chapter 4: A Paragon of Devotion

“The celebration is soon, Tahira. Go wash up in the Font of Lyss!”

“Yes mother.” The girl, only eight, went to the font where the others had already washed. Water cascaded down her long blond hair and small frame from the floating plants from above. It was a miracle of the gods, people would say, that there were all of these plants and floating onion domes which allowed life giving water to flow down into the major cities. That's what Tahira had been taught so far, listening to the priests.

Other children also joined her, goaded by their parents for their first or final wash as they were scolded for continuing to play despite getting ready for the Day of Lyssa. Many of her friends were present, including Davu. Her and Davu often spent time in the temples of the gods, though they focused on different gods, mostly dictated by their parents who had dreams of their children. Davu was to join the Vabbi army as a great Paragon, while Tahira was expected to be a priestess at the Mirror of Lyss.

“Tahira, are you looking forward to the Day of Lyssa?” Davu had dark auburn hair, kept fairly short but still a little unruly. He was ten, and already practiced diligently to become a paragon, spending hours a night handling a spear and playing war games with his father and his many tutors. Both Tahira and Davu were part of wealthy Vabbian families who lived in Kodash.

“I always do.” She smiled a little, splashing in the water. Her lips were bright and golden, especially with the water and sand. She was the descendant of a djinn, or so the rumors suggested. Her eyes were bright blue, an oasis in the midst of a desert, and many who saw her realized just how beautiful she would become. “What of you, Davu.”

“I believe the same. Will we dance?” He blushed a little, becoming aware of being his sexuality as of late.

“As always. Why do you ask this year.” She wrung out her hair. It passed her loin cloth.

“Uh, no reason.” He smiled and giggled a little, and she responded in kind.

Their parents came to fetch them after they bathed in the Font. Tahira was dressed in a long flowing dress of torqoise. She spun and watched it twirl out, hypnotizing. “Tahira, cut that out. You will end up undoing all of the hard work your mother put in to getting that infernal dress on you. I bought it from Istan. What do you say?”

Tahira curtsied to her mother, “Thanks you mother. May the five true gods be with you and guide your path.” Her mother clapped proudly as Tahira's father entered.

“You look stunning Tahira.” He had the liquid eyes and bright lips like Tahira. It was slightly more obvious in Tahira, however.

“Thank you father. Shall we be on our way?” Her words were slow and articulate. In social settings of political importance she was very polite and expressionless. This was a curiosity to most, though her father saw its potential if he could persuade her to take up the family merchant company. If nothing else her ability to understand her place in public would make her most suitable for one of the princes of Vabbi.

“Yes, we shall be on our way. My lovely wife, and my pious daughter. The hand of Dwayna surely touches me in this life.” They went to either side of him, and he took their arms around his. “Let's celebrate.” With a smile, the three walked to the Garden of Seborn.

Bright lights, loud music, and obnoxious drunks were all things that seemed to never change. Tahira was allowed to go on her own, and she went to watch the re-enactment of Palawa Joko and Turai Ossa's battle. “That was impressive,” a stranger began to speak with Tahira. She was positive he knew her, likely through a social event her father hosted some time ago.

She watched as they prepared for the second skit to take place. “Yes, quite. What were your thoughts on the re-enactment.” Neither a smile or a frown appeared on her face, causing the man to grunt uncomfortably as he rearranged his garments.

“Well, I suppose it was fairly good. I wonder how accurate. Suppose I will never know. It is alright to smile, child. It's the Day of Lyssa after all. Would you like something to eat?”

She shook her head, “No thank you, sir. I am to know to behave, and behave I shall. To become too emotional is to risk shaming family, or worse, offending the gods. It is for the gods whom I am saved.”

“Charming,” he laughed with hesitation lacing his voice, “absolutely charming.” He walked away, watching the child for a moment, shaking his head, and making off in an attempt to drink away the event.

Shortly after Davu approached him. He wore a fine tunic of white silk and jeweled sandals. “Tahira, would you have this dance with me?” He was nervous as before, though she was comfortable enough with him that this did not throw her.

“Yes, Davu, I would love to have this dance.” She put out her hand, and he took it, trembling against her steady touch. They made their way, hand in hand, to the dance floor, and there swirled about, reveling in the evening events, drinking and talking, playing with other children, as the sun set and the moon became full and apparent.

“They say the moon is one of the many faces of Lyssa, and when it is full she looks down upon her people and makes some of them crazy, since she is the goddess of chaos as well as the myriad of other things.” Tahira spoke while the two sat on a bench overlooking the festivities from high above. “Two faces and so much does she cover. Whispers speak of a profession we do not know who follow her. One of shadows and discord. They are discontent and change incarnate. I would love to meet them.”

“From the whispers? What are you speaking of?” Davu looked down from the moon in order to look Tahira in the eyes, admiring the liquid features, her skin smooth and perfect.

“When I sit by the pool I hear them all speaking. All of the prayers to Lyssa travel through there. It really is her shrine throughout the entire world, not just Vabbi or Elona. There is a people in a land of great dragons. They are work as twins, much like Lyssa, as if unwittingly mimicking her in so many more ways than they know. They dance too. Not as extravagantly as the beautiful dervish, but they dance in shadows and blood, in short acrobatic movements. They remain closed, while dervishes spread out to those around them. So strange how Lyssa works.” Her eyes were lost in the stars as she pondered her thoughts. Then she grabbed Davu, bringing him out of his own trance. “Davu,” her eyes were bright and her voice suddenly cheery, “we should go to the pool of Lyssa and pray for her protection over us!” Before the boy could respond, Tahira pulled on his arm and darted out of the garden towards the pool.

The moon reflected full and perfect through the cloudless sky and into the pool. Tahira admired it, sitting on the ledge, and putting a hand into the water, breaking the perfect stars. “I guess you can't hear it then?”

“Hear what?” Davi crouched on the edge, looking at the pool. He was not close to Lyssa, and was pushed towards an admiration for Balthazar. Trickery made him feel awkward and he despised the twisting of views. Mostly his father taught him the destructive nature of the mesmers and their patron.

“The voices. They all pray to her and ask her guidance. Muses of Lyssa show up from time to time to answer these prayers. I've seen it happen.” She looked at Davu with excitement, her eyes bright and a large grin on her face. Davu couldn't help but laugh a little, her giddiness infectious.

“I do not pray to Lyssa. I would not know.”

Tahira looked back at the pool and her smile went away. “Yes you do. You pray that she will guide me on my path.” His eyes went wide and he stepped back, off the ledge. She turned to him, her face blank, yet her eyes intense, intent on focusing on him. “You forget. I hear the prayers.”

Her head cocked, and she looked past Davu. “Stay still and come closer. We should head to the temple.”

“Why?” Behind him stood three elemental beings. He was told of them, but never saw them, leaving him unable to explain their glowing nature as his mind tried to wrap around the vision.

Tahira took his hand and held his arm close to her. His face turned red, his voice shook, “I shall lead us there.”

Before they could take a step, a beautiful robed woman with ebon skin and a strong looking man wearing armor of gold charged at the elementals. The man lifted briefly off the ground, wings sprouting from his back, “Anthem of Flame!” The man's voice boomed so loudly that even at the distance, Davu thought he would stumble back from the force. The woman's scythe struck the beings, and they burst into flame. More wings and commands were shouted, and the dervish continued the onslaught, ripping down two of the elementals. As the final one attempted to flee she grew several feet, and great armor covered her body. Davu recognized the form as Balthazar's, and watched as she swiftly chased down the elemental and sliced through the body.

The two warriors embraced and laughed a little, patrolling the area for others. Davu found his arms wrapped around Tahira, and she held on to them tightly. He finally spoke. “I swear, I shall protect you in much the same manner.”

Tahira, silently to herself, thought, And in such a manner, I shall be your strength.