A Dance with Shadows

It was the hottest day of the year. Actually it was the hottest day on record. Alayia twisted her long hair up on top of her head, seeking some sort of respite from the scorching sun above her. “Curse you, mom.” she muttered, but she was looking down at the dirt path beneath her feet. As the sun god’s daughter, she knew the heat wave was mostly her fault. She had just disappeared one day while her mom was working. And she had a charm to ensure none of the other gods could see her.

She wanted to walk among the people. See their towers, hear their voices. She’d always sat as low in the palace as she could, straining to hear the festival music on the wind.

“Alayia!” Her first and, well, only, friend in the human realm, Juillaire, called, waving for Alayia to come join her. Juillaire’s hair ran down her spine in an elegantly twisted braid, but a few loose strands stuck to her neck, damp with sweat. “Come here!” Juillaire insisted.

Alayia pushed past a group of merchants, murmuring apologies as she went. As she approached, she saw a figure in the shadow behind Juillaire, a deeper shadow with red eyes. She reached out for her friend’s hand in a wild panic, pulling her off the curb and into the crowded street.

“Hey, watch it! Did you have too much to drink?” Juillaire asked hopefully. She’d been trying to pry out Alayia’s secrets with liquor distilled from the corn growing in the fields surrounding the city.

“I haven’t had anything to drink.” Alayia muttered, glaring at the shadow. “You finished it last night.”

“We’re here for more.” Juillaire said gently, squeezing Alayia’s hand. “And Namiyeh over here is going to help us get some.” She gave Alayia a pleading look. “I know how you are about new people–” Alayia turned and dragged her away, sparing only the briefest of glances over her shoulder.

“How many times–”

“I know you’re from the temple, but not every acolyte of the Unheard is a devil!” Juillaire hissed. “Please, he’s only trying to help us!”

“That’s what all the Sjarai say! Haven’t you heard any of the stories?” Alayia demanded. She only barely stopped herself from saying didn’t your parents ever tell you any of the stories? Juillaire had grown up on the other side of the ocean, and come over on a boat a few years ago. Still, Alayia’s mother’s worshippers were famous worldwide, as one of the earliest recorded civilizations still thriving today. Juillaire should have heard the mythology in school. She’d been raised at a boarding school after the revolution took both her parents and her older siblings. She’d lost two younger siblings in the chaos as she was trying to escape, but spoke of them so little Alayia didn’t even know their names.

“I heard stories.” Juillaire insisted, planting her feet. Alayia stopped before she revealed too much of her strength by simply hauling her friend down the street by the arm. “I never said I believed in them.”

“Well I do.” Alayia snapped, something hot bubbling over in her chest. At its center, something else burned dark and cold.

Juillaire looked like she’d been slapped. “They’re just stories. Aren’t you on the run from the temple? I thought you left because you didn’t believe!”

“I-I…” Alayia stammered. “Some of it.”

“If you’re not sure what to believe, or if you should believe the only tale you’ve ever heard…” Juillaire said softly, gently pulling Alayia closer so she could whisper into her ear, “Then hearing both sides of the story can help clear up how much of each side is true, and how much is…exaggerated.” her voice took on that tone it had when she played diplomat, smoothing over Alayia’s many misunderstandings with the locals.

Alayia gritted her teeth, remembering her last fight with her mother. She winced as her head throbbed, an image of a broken gong rushing over her vision, its final clang rattling her brain inside her skull. “Fine.” she muttered. “He tries anything sketchy, and we’re leaving right away.”

Juillaire nodded. “Of course.” she sang, skipping along back to the corner where the shadow acolyte still stood, waiting. All the hairs along the back of Alayia’s neck stood up. He looked right through her, to the cold center burning in her chest, and smiled.

Here to find the truth, daughter of Soleine? I can teach you everything your mother has hidden.

What do you want in return? She demanded, biting her lip as she froze. Juillaire looked from one to the other, puzzled.

“Is this some Temple language?” She demanded, hands on her hips.

“Sort of.” Namiyeh responded, a smile playing across his face.

I just want you to have an open mind. Your decision will remain yours, and I swear on my Elihu it will be sacred.

Alayia jumped as Juillaire elbowed her in the ribs. “Hey! Care to speak a language we all understand?”

“Sorry, just a greeting.” Alayia mumbled. “He recognized me…I don’t like this.” She whispered, well aware Namiyeh could hear her, but unable to communicate with Juillaire in a way that he couldn’t hear without revealing who–what–she really was.

Once she went with this Namiyeh…she could never return to her mother’s palace.

But…if she didn’t, then what was the point of leaving the palace in the first place? She wanted to know where she really came from, why she was the only one forbidden to leave the palace, to see the world below, much less the worlds across the stars.

The temperature around her dropped as the shadows closed over her head, blocking out her mother’s protective light.