The Heart is the Key
In this exciting episode, Sihara penetrates the Tower City and finds Mahn, the Inviewer. Risking her life in this dangerous mission, she tells Mahn the truth of his destiny…
Warriors of Transcendence, Part 38
“Who are you?” Mahn asked the girl. Through the wide windows of the Tower, she could see the movement of the passersby in the square below. The City lights flickered, a gentle rain was falling and a soft haze pervaded the atmosphere. The outlines of the walls and towers were blurred so they appeared to be shapeless.
“I am Sihara”, she replied confidently.
The torches that hung from the walls of the room cast strange shadows onto the ground.
“You are aware, I trust, that this area is restricted to Inviewers,” said Mahn.
Sihara was silent.“What Level do you belong to?” he asked, getting closer.
As a skilled Inviewer, Mahn was able to decipher movements, sounds, mental states and hidden personality traits. But in the dim light, he was not even able to identify the emblem on her clothing. Radiating confidence, Sihara appeared relaxed and secure, causing Mahn to feel slightly embarrassed by his suspicions. But, persisting in his investigation, he commanded her to answer his question.
Sihara remained silent. Noting Mahn’s hand gripping his sword, she suggested softly, “No need for weapons.”
Self-assuredly, she asked him “Who are you?”
Disarmed by her serenity and poise, intuiting that the question was rhetorical, Mahn became increasingly confused by his inability to read her. Should she be arrested? Should he notify his colleagues to interrogate her?
Suddenly, after a single flash of lightening lit the room, Mahn found his thoughts returning to a previous interrogation he had conducted, long ago, in another venue. In that situation, too, the roles of questioner and questioned had been reversed. His hand gripped his sword even more tightly as he recalled the previous suspect, an old woman in a marketplace who had asked the very same question: Who are you?
Now, this question was posed by a confidant, soft -spoken girl dressed in simple blue garb.
Another dim and very distant memory surfaced. Mahn saw himself walking along a shore, viewing the waves, with two young, carefree men, dressed in simple blue garb. This distant, memory was unsettling, and in his conflicted state of mind he felt compelled to answer Sihara’s bold question.
“I am Mahn,” he replied.
Sihara’s face shone as she pointed to the windows. Taken aback by her compelling determination, Mahn followed the seemingly fragile girl to a window facing east. There she pointed to the distant horizon where, through the haze and rain, they were able to see the faint and shimmering reddish glow of Fire Mountain and beyond.
“I was sent to you, traveling from the east,” she confided, in a whispered voice, “to tell you that this place is not your true home; you do not belong here. You have a true master, but it is neither the Mercury Emperor, nor any of the other Emperors in the Towered City.”
Now she had gone too far! Mahn attempted to focus all of his strength, as he gripped his sword firmly. Recovering his composure, he resumed speaking in an authoritative tone. “You are obviously unaware of your location!” he barked sharply.
Before she had a chance to respond, he continued, his voice growing louder, more threatening: “You are in the Towered City! The great City that generates fear in all the land’s inhabitants. You will never return to your home! Your words are meaningless. Prepare to be obliterated!” His confidence grew as he spoke.
Mahn, still bewildered by his momentary loss of self -control, felt ashamed. Fearing burn-out, he felt in need of a change, a rest. Sihara, too, became a bit stressed, but she quickly gathered her strength. Very slowly, as if speaking to a young child, as if Mahn had not understood her provocative statements: “You truly do not belong here. This is not your true home!”
Tell him! the voice of the Messenger echoed in her memory, as she repeated:
“The Emperors are not your masters. Your master is the Master of Transcendence.”
She flushed as she mentioned his name.
Mahn felt devastated. His confidence vanished and his sword fell to the floor. He attempted to regain his strength, but fear entered his heart; a pervasive inner fear of the unknown, the obscure. Feeling stifled, in need of air, he opened a window, feeling the cold gust of air on his face. Doubts assailed him. He knew the Master of Transcendence led the rebels who conspired to wage war to destroy the Towered City. Yet, Mahn, the Inviewer from the Mercury Level, felt somehow linked to his avowed enemy.
How could this be?!
Distant voices, coming closer, disturbed his already turbulent thoughts. A tour of the halls was being carried out by the Level Guards on watch. If he were to be found in conversation with this strange girl, it would not end well.
“Hurry!” he called to Sihara, and they fled down a dimly lit staircase leading into a small stone cell at the base of the Level.
Mahn had only just discovered this little room during one of his last rounds. The unfurnished room, dimly lit by a single torch, reeked of mold. The low ceiling lent an ominous aspect to the room. Mahn sat down heavily on the ground, recovering from the flight. Sihara leaned on the wall opposite him, taking note of an etching on the wall depicting a domed entrance way.
Her memory vividly replayed a long ago conversation with her Transparent Master in the cabin on the Isle where everything had been so awesomely green, alive and flowing. Here, everything was heavy and distressing, gray and obstructed. There, the Transparent Master had seen so clearly, all of reality spread out before him. Here, she confronted a confused, devastated man, as she tried to explain herself and her mission. The memory of the Transparent Master refreshed her, giving her new strength to continue. Regaining her confidence, she told Mahn about her life and her journey to Green Isle and to the Chamber of Changing Colors, about the Master of Transcendence and his eyes, and about her present mission to rescue her brother, Tzalaii, a prisoner in the Tower.
Mahn listened. Her words hovered over him like purifying winds, and her explanations helped him to connect and understand many confusing events, thoughts and ideas: His findings at the southern quarries had upset his calm spirit and confused his faith in the validity of the Towered City and its Emperors; his encounters with prisoners and Obliterated Ones had molded a deep and subconscious doubt in his heart about his masters’ goals; his conversation with the crazy old woman…all of these situations were connected to distant childhood memories amidst echoes of words and fragmented pictures, exposing something alien and obscure. Perhaps he really wasn’t meant to be here? Perhaps he was a prisoner, or worse, the son of Obliterated Ones? Sihara’s delicate features reminded him of Tzalaii. Yes, he remembered this special prisoner who he had totally failed to Obliterate. The prisoner had been unmovable even in the face of Mahn’s strong efforts. But now, Mahn did not know where Tzalaii had been taken to, following the verdict.
He suddenly realized that the trial had been deliberately staged to manipulate the audience. Stunned by his new feelings, he despised the judges for their actions. Over the years, he had been bothered by so many doubts, some clear and others obscure, regarding the falsehood of the Towered City. But he had not connected these disparate ideas and feelings. Why? Why had the proper conclusion eluded him? He was no fool.
He was confused and ashamed, fluctuating between contradicting feelings. His thought process, his clothing, the honored emblem upon his fringes and the sword he carried were all part of the routine he had followed for several decades. His heart was affected and he thought:
You must forget! Forget everything! Alert your supervisors of the girl’s presence before you face dire consequences!
He almost said to Sihara: Your words are meaningless! You shall never return to your home!
But an inner voice, something stronger and more decisive, commanded him to think about Sihara’s pronouncements.
As if in response to his inner voice, a thought arose in his heart:
Even if I were to decide to go with her, into another reality, how would we possibly escape through the great walls of the Towered City? I would be so vulnerable outside…so lonely in the forest, in the Lowlands, and even worse…
A sudden shudder ran down his spine.
If I am caught, I might die…I might be Obliterated…I might turn into Essence of Soul Concentration and become the binding substance in the stones of the wall…
This thought served to concentrate his anger about his aimless life, about the great hoax to which he was an accomplice, about his education and training which had molded him. He felt he had been used for the evil purpose of obliterating others.
Sihara sat silently, watching him and attentive to the voice of his heart. He seemed like a wounded child on the verge of tears. She saw what he could not see. Now he was shedding his old shell, his tough features were softening, his mighty cloak with the sapphire emblem was shriveling and sliding away from his body like a useless object, bereft of beauty and splendor.
“What now?” he finally asked.
Sihara recalled the words the Master of Transcendence had spoken as she departed from his Chamber: When you meet him, tell him everything about me and my Chamber. His name is Mahn. Through him you shall find your brother.
She had already told Mahn about the Master and his Chamber, and her mission to find Tzalaii. But where would she find him? Carefully, she took out the blue Magnathought Crystal, given to her by Tzalaii when he was taken captive on Green Isle. The Crystal glowed, causing its etched tree to become visible. Sihara gazed at the tree- it was identical to the tree that appeared on the gate leading to the Chamber of Changing Colors- on which the word royalty was written.
Her heart emptied of all thoughts but one: Tzalaii. She grasped the object that had belonged to her brother, as if it were her last hope, and she repeated his name again and again: “Tzalaii!” But nothing happened. Sihara’s desire to locate her brother should have activated the object in her hand, she thought, and then she remembered: Unification!
Slightly ashamed, like a child who had failed a test, she covered her face with her hands and whispered: “Transcendor, you have always been good to me; you have always been at my side, since before I knew of your existence. I am still at the start of my journey- don’t leave me alone even for a moment! The Master of Transcendence taught me that Mahn would rescue my brother. Please, help him!”
She then brought the blue Magnathought Crystal to her face, looked at it and whispered, with faith in the presence of the Transcendor: “Show me Tzalaii.”
The Crystal responded immediately. Its golden lines became hot, and beyond the distant fog, the image of her lost brother appeared.
Mahn moved closer and gazed into the Crystal, stunned. The two of them could see Tzalaii being led by two Shadows of Illusion into an immense room. Drops from a barely visible glass object attached to the wall, trickled down upon crimson- yellow colored bricks. The Shadows tossed Tzalaii to the ground.
“Here he is,” they said to an erect, proud man. His face was pale, his eyes deep, his voice quiet and a double cloak concealed the fringes of his garb. “This prisoner is someone special,” they exclaimed.
“I know,” the man answered looking at Tzalaii as if he were an object of great value.
Sihara’s face turned white.
Just then, Mahn was brought back to reality by heavy knocks on the stone door.
“Open up, in the name of the White Fire!” He seized the artifact from Sihara’s hands and hid it in his cloak. As he calmly opened the door, Sihara wondered about his true intentions.
“Yes, sirs, how may I be of assistance? Is this an urgent matter? You are interrupting an Inviewer’s interrogation of a prisoner!”
The two warriors from the Base Level retreated with an apology. Sihara’s life had been saved for the present time! But the warriors might report to their supervisors and Mahn would be asked to explain her identity. The stone door was closed and Mahn turned to Sihara.
“I, alone, know where your brother has been taken. Only I can find him.”
His anger intensified as he thought of Tzalaii’s hapless plight; obliteration and soul concentration. This served to shock him into action, to do everything possible to rescue the boy and escape from the Tower.
“But you must disappear,” he told Sihara. “Leave the same way you came. Do not linger here for even another second!”
Opening the door, Sihara peered down the corridors in both directions. In the dim light, she appeared to have grown in stature. Mahn looked at her expectantly. She removed a small object from her garb: it was the purple branch adorned with tiny leaves and green threads. A luminous white line pulsated within it.
“Your heart is the key,” she heard herself say.
What was her heart telling her now? She looked into her soul, longing to hear her inner voice. Look around you. Your true path calls you at all times! Search for its signs!
Once again she scanned the corridors confidently, but this time she noticed a small object in a corner. Intuitively, she approached it, stooping to examine it more closely. It was a pine cone, so out of place here, so small and almost hidden from sight. Sihara lifted it, holding it close to her heart, while gazing at the wall behind it. The marks of an ancient, blocked gate were visible in the stone. This was the passage she was to enter! Yes, The Transparent Ones had left signs for her, but how was she to pass through the thick stone wall?
The silence deepened as Mahn tried to ignore his fears. Never had it been this silent in the Towered City. The sound of footsteps, the beat of drums and people in conversation were always audible.
“Hurry! Fast!” Mahn wanted to shout, but he was unable to speak.
The girl stood as if in a dream, staring fixedly at the wall.
No one can be forced to act against his will, to accept anything against his will, the Master of Transcendence had said in his Chamber. Deep inside, you are eternally free.
Sihara stood facing the gate, feeling the force of her dispatcher directing her.
“Neither man nor Emperor, neither dagger nor sword can stop me! Good depth in exchange for evil depth!” she exclaimed. “Liberty in exchange for slavery! Freedom in exchange for oppression!”
Suddenly, the wall vanished, exposing a magnificent underground kingdom. Sihara offered hurried instructions to Mahn about the Magnathought Crystal.
“The Master of Transcendence said that you would be able to rescue Tzalaii,” she reminded him, plaintively, as she ran.
Mahn clenched his jaws in determination, as he replied: “I shall fulfill my task.”
To be continued.
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