TOMB OF HAKA

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t always wars between mankind. But there has always been Izura, a mischievous spirit that could not resist the temptation of stealing from the gods.” Kuta traced his finger-tips over the mountainous landscape that was carved into the long wooden table beneath his hand. His fragile fingers travelled softly over the mountain peaks until they reached the gods’ tombs at the centre.

“Izura is to blame for the fire-breathing beasts that reign our skies and the blood-thirsty men that raid our lands.” The pain of lost life and love infused Kuta’s words with unforgiving resentment. He pressed the palm of his hand into the sharp edges of the carved table. Blood spilled from his skin. It flowed through the valleys, just like the blood of his ancestors had flowed through the valleys since they failed to fulfil their oath to the gods.

“You must bring Izura to justice, Zandaka.” Desperate to restore honour to his family’s name, Kuta summoned his grand-daughter to fulfil a quest that much greater men and women have failed to achieve for a thousand years. Zandaka, a young girl with short black hair, sat on the cold stone steps of the temple. Her head was bowed, her legs were crossed and her face took no notice of her grand-father’s demands.

Frustrated by his grand-daughter’s lack of attention, Kuta began a history lesson. A lesson that Zandaka had heard a thousand times before. “There were four gods.” Kuta lifted his bleeding hand from the table and pointed to the statues that guarded the entrances to the temple. “Chikyu, the god of earth. Mizu, the god of water. Kaen, the god of fire. And Kuki, the god of air.” The gods were sculpted in the forms of mythical creatures, wielding the powers of their element. “They had the power to conquer the universe. But, instead the gods sacrificed their lives so that mankind may experience life”. Kuta looked up at the paintings that decorated the walls of the temple. The ancient paintings stretched from the floor to the high ceilings. They told the history of the universe and the story of House Kaen.

“The only thing that the gods asked in return for their life-giving sacrifice, was for their tombs to remain sealed. And for their treasures, weapons and beasts, that were buried with them, to never enter the realms of mankind.” The grand tomb of the fire god, Kaen, towered over Kuta. The dark shades of red paint on the walls revealed a dying god, magical treasures, deadly weapons and fire-breathing beasts. “It was the duty of our family to protect the tomb of the fire god, Kaen.” Kuta pressed the palm of his hand into his chest with great pride. Blood seeped into his black robe. “It was a great honour.”

“And we failed him.” Kuta threw his walking stick at the wall. The lack of attention from Zandaka forced his temper to over-heat. “The fire god, Kaen, trusted us to protect his tomb and belongings. And we failed him.” He shuffled slowly across the temple towards his grand-daughter; struggling to move without the aid of his walking stick. “Not only did we fail to protect his tomb. We have failed to slay these fire-breathing beasts. And we have failed to retrieve the stolen treasures and weapons.” There was no need for Kuta to reference the paintings on the walls; the destruction of the dragons was evident in the flames that burnt the horizon and the greed of mankind echoed throughout the valley.

“And it is all because of her.” Kuta snatched a small stone sculpture from Zandaka’s hands. “The evil spirit of mischief, Izura.” He squeezed the sculpture in the palm of his hand. Blood rushed from his skin and stained the stone. “She broke into the tomb. She unleashed the dragons. She stole the sacred treasures and weapons. And she brought dis-honour to our family, for an eternity.” Kuta’s voice rose from a frustrated whisper to an enraged scream. He threw the blood-stained sculpture at the wall. It hit the painting and landed on the floor, not far from his walking stick. “You must bring her to justice, Zandaka.” Kuta fell to his knees, no longer able to bare the weight of his shame.

Zandaka did not acknowledge her grand-father’s enraged out-burst. She stood up and walked towards the painted walls, that she knew so well. Zandaka was raised in the temple. It had been the home of her family, House Kaen, for a thousand years. Every night she snuck out of bed to study the intricate details of the ancient paintings, hoping to find a hidden spirit.

Kuta’s retelling of the creation of the world and mankind was mostly true. The world was created when the four gods sacrificed their lives so that mankind may experience life. And the only thing the gods asked for in return was for their tombs, that contained their magical treasures, deadly weapons and mythical beasts, to never enter the realm of mankind. But, Zandaka knew that there was more to the creation-story than her grand-father disclosed. The gods did not trust the greed of mankind. So, when they sacrificed their lives, they gave birth to the spirits; magical creatures that were responsible for maintaining the delicate balance of the universe.

The spirits were hidden in the smallest details of the paintings. They were often found in the background; pulling the strings behind the events of mankind. Zandaka had discovered hundreds of spirits hidden in the paintings throughout her childhood. She came to understand that each spirit had a purpose. A purpose that they must fulfil, no matter what. And that the gods gifted the spirits with magical abilities and artefacts to ensure that they fulfilled their purpose, for an eternity. Ai-shin must spread love, Yoku-shin must incite violence and a hundred more spirits must fulfil their purpose to maintain the delicate balance of the universe.

But there was one spirit that Zandaka failed to discover in the paintings; Izura, the spirit of mischief. She had heard about the spirit every night in her grand-father’s enraged rants. She had seen the destruction of the dragons, that Izura was accused of releasing. And she had witnessed the greed and violence of mankind that was inspired by treasures and weapons that she stole. But, Zandaka had never discovered anything in the enormous paintings that resembled Izura.

Zandaka never understood why the gods would give birth to a spirit that was destined to break their only commandment; not to steal from their tombs. Her best guess was that Izura’s purpose was to create mischief and chaos so that no man or women could accumulate too much wealth or power. But the gods had accumulated more wealth and power, from across the universe, than any living being. And stored it all in their tombs.

“You must bring Izura to justice.” Without the support of his walking stick, Kuta used the table to pull himself up to a standing position. “You must bring her to justice, Zandaka.” The aggressive tone of his voice made Kuta appear strong but the quiver of his upper lip revealed his weakness. “Our family has lived in dis-honour for a thousand years. I will not die knowing that we failed to regain their honour. You must …”

“I must nothing.” Zandaka turned to face her grand-father for the first time. “My uncles tried to slay the dragons, my brothers tried to return them to their tomb, my aunties tried to steal-back the stolen treasures and weapons and my sisters tried to bring peace to mankind. And they all failed. And they all died.” Zandaka walked passed the paintings that told the stories of her family’s attempts to regain their honour. “I will not fail. And I will not die.”

“You will …”

“I will find Izura.” Zandaka picked up her blood-stained sculpture from the floor. She used the base of her robe to wipe the sculpture clean. “But, I will not bring her to justice.” She left her grand-father’s walking stick on the floor by her feet.

“To balance chaos, we must unleash chaos.” Zandaka walked into the centre of the temple. Kuta was lost for words. He did not comprehend why his grand-daughter did not share his shame or desire to restore their family honour. And he was even more confused by her cryptic talk of chaos.

“There are three other gods. And there are three other tombs. Each tomb is filled with treasure, weapons and beasts that could rival what was stolen from the fire god, Kaen.” Zandaka twirled slowly in the centre of the temple with her arms outstretched; inviting her grand-father to view the status of the other gods and the paintings of their tombs. “The dragons, treasures and weapons that were stolen from the fire god’s tomb have incited chaos for a thousand years. And despite our family’s greatest attempts, the world remains in chaos.”

“You’re a …” Kuta did not appreciate his grand-daughter lecturing him about the ways of the world. He leaned heavily on the table and lifted his chest to assert his dominance. But, his grand-daughter refused to be interrupted.

“There’s a beast in one of the other gods’ tomb that can defeat a dragon. Or, a beast that is at least strong enough to distract the dragons from us.” Zandaka picked up her grand-father’s walking stick and used it to point to the mythical creatures that were raging in the painted tombs of the earth, water and air gods. “And I bet that the treasures and weapons within the other gods’ tombs could help us win back the treasures and weapons that we lost to the world.”

“You don’t …” frustrated by his inability to assert his dominance, Kuta yelled louder than he had that night. But, Zandaka had realised her vision for her path in life. And there was no man, spirit or god that could stop her from achieving her purpose.

“I don’t have to restore honour to our family. I don’t have to save mankind from the dragons or their own greed. And I don’t have to bring Izura to justice.” Zandaka placed her grand-father’s walking stick down on the table, just beyond his reach. “But, I will find Izura. And with her help, I will release the chaos that lies with the tombs of the remaining gods.”

Kuta fell to the floor. His last hope for redemption was lost.