Chapter 12: The Baii’adan

The water‘s turquoise colors danced on the black marble ceiling and pillars.

Zamira’s thin black robes fluttered in the warm winds of Ephyra.

Even from high up, she could hear the people on the bustling streets beneath her.

Her gaze, however, was directed to the horizon behind the clear, glistening waters of the Jade Bay. She watched as a ship got smaller and smaller until it eventually disappeared behind the horizon.

The only things she knew about the outside world were the things her many teachers taught her and her sisters, the things she could see from the many windows and balconies, and the few early memories she had of herself as a child before she was brought into the palace.

Although her experiences were limited, she liked her sheltered life. Unlike some of her sisters, she was never particularly interested in leaving the palace to travel and see the world.

She was more than satisfied with visiting the great archive and reading about the world and its history, or listening to her sister talk and swoon about all the places they wanted to see.

A knock sounded from the immense door behind her and woke her from her thoughts.

“Your holiness, the Tarabyn are expecting you in the Council Hall,” A female voice explained from behind the door.

Zamira only sighed before she averted her gaze from the balcony’s magnificent view and walked past the enormous pool that steamed from the water’s heat.

Singular droplets still ran down her amber skin and left behind a clear path on the black floor.

She took off the robes and slipped into a long black dress subtly decorated with dark jewels around her stomach, shoulders, and chest before attaching a half-transparent a veil covering her slim nose and full lips to the thin silver chains and green gemstones adorning her long braided hair, only leaving her vibrant turquoise eyes clearly visible.

Dressed, she opened the door and stepped into the tall hallway, letting a dozen female servants walk past her after deeply bowing to her and cleaning the entire bath.

“Your holiness,” An old woman bowed to Zamira. “The Tarabyn are expecting you.”

“Yes, Daya. I’ve heard. Go ahead,” Zamira answered.

Daya quickly bowed again before leading the way to the council hall.

The closer they came to the Council Hall, the cooler the temperature got and the more elaborate the decorations became. They left behind the black palace’s mostly bare hallways, with no decorations hanging on the walls or standing to the sides. And walked through hallways with walls full of abstract carvings whose meanings have become mostly forgotten, and even the most outstanding scholars Ashiir’s had difficulty discerning.

As they walked through the hallways, many women and, oddly, men in simple robes met them.

The palace had been going through curious changes those last couple of weeks, and the Tarabyn had invited scholars from throughout Ashiir to find explanations for the strange events and, because of that, for a certain amount of time, allowed male scholars to step foot into the palace.

“Thank you, Daya,” Zamira nodded with a small smile as they arrived at the Council Hall and entered after the female guards in black, cloth-like armor that covered their entire bodies opened the door. The only discernable decorations on the armor were a half moon on their chests.

The word luxurious seemed as though it was made specifically for the Council Hall. Like the entire palace, the hall was circular. It was situated in the middle of the gargantuan palace underneath the Sha’a’ni’s Throne-room. The ceiling reached so high its end wouldn’t have been discernable if it wasn’t for the water that had begun to dimly glow in recent times, falling down the illuminated statues chiseled into the walls, down in between the rows of seats, and into the grooves carved into the floor, flowing in circular patterns all throughout the hall.

At first, no one dared to go near the water, not knowing what had caused the strange phenomenon. But as the scholars examined it, they found the water had developed miraculous healing properties and calmed the mind like no tea was able to. But it was also highly addictive. Because the scholars couldn’t find any satisfying explanations, the Tarabyn chose to call it a blessing Shani’s.

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Zamira walked along the narrow pathway past the dozens of statues of the many women chosen to be the Sha’a’ni at one point in time, built in between the grooves and into the walls. The glowing water gave the statues a blue hue as it did the entire hall, and its irregular motions reflected and danced along the dark marble.

As she arrived at the circular platform in the middle of the hall, she bowed to the three women covered from head to toe in black fabric that sat on thick red pillows before her.

“Zamira greets the Tarabyn.”

The Tarabyn were one of the most powerful groups of the known world. Their word was only second to the Sha’a’ni herself, but she rarely interfered in political matters, so the Tarabyn were practically the actual leaders of Ashiir’s empire.

Every sixty-two years, which was the age at which the first Sha’a’ni had passed away. A new Sha’a’ni was chosen by the previous one. Four girls that weren’t allowed to be older than three years were brought into the palace and raised to be the most educated and capable leaders possible. One of them was then chosen to succeed as Sha’a’ni, while the others became the next Tarabyn. Except for the age and the need to have been born in Ashiir, there were no prerequisites to being chosen as a potential Sha’a’ni. The honor of having your child chosen was far too great for any parent to refuse to let them go, but in the rare cases that someone did, they were executed for treason against Shani and her divinity, the Sha’a’ni.

After being succeeded, the previous Tarabyn were brought to the White Temple, where the people of Ashiir could come and pray, pay their respect or even ask for advice. They could also be summoned to the palace by the current Tarabyn to give council if needed. They would then sit on the seats built along the Council Hall’s wall while the current Tarbyn sat on the three red pillows on the platform in the hall’s middle. Still, a summoning of the Tarabyn was extremely rare and usually only made in case the empire was in grave danger.

Once the Sha’a’ni was replaced however, she had to take part in an enormous ceremony in which she had to drink poison explicitly made for that event and take her rightful place in the afterlife next to the goddess of the moon, Shani, like all the ones before her.

The Tarabyn that sat in the middle of the three tilted her head downwards before she slightly lifted the black veil, woven in cross patterns through which one could only barely see her face, and guided a green tube decorated with golden and red metals to her mouth. The tube was attached to an unevenly shaped, green-tinted glass object filled with smoke. A cloud of smoke smelling of mint filled the hall as she breathed out.

“Now that you’re here, we can begin,” The Tarabyn on the right said. We’ve already informed your sisters where their Baii’adan will lead them, and you’re the last.

As if planned, the Tarabyn on the left started talking less than a second afterward. “Zamira, your Baii’adan will lead you to Beymore, where you will attend the funeral of the deceased king.”

Zamira narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me, your holiness, but why am I being sent to attend another continent’s monarch’s funeral. Wouldn’t a letter be enough to keep the good relations?”

The Tarabyn in the middle past the tube to the one on the right. “We’re not sending you there to attend some little king’s funeral. You know about the Temple of Lylyr?”

“Yes, of course.” Zamira nodded.

“We’ve obtained information that they suspect the child that remained to be hidden in the palace of Bellgrave,” The Tarabyn on the left explained before grabbing the tube and guiding it to her mouth.

Even Zamira, who had an extraordinary ability to control her emotions, couldn’t help but show a touch of anger in her eyes before coming down.

“We know what you’re thinking, but our spies are absolutely sure that The Temple of Lylyr seriously believes to have found the child that remained. And with your Baii’adan directly before you, even if it’s a baseless claim, at least you can strengthen the ties with Beymore and maybe even convince them to let temples in honor of Shani be built in their lands,” The Tarabyn in the middle explained after seeing the frustration in Zamira’s eyes.

It was understandable. Even though Zamira never had any particular interest in leaving the palace, she knew she had to once her Baii’adan came, the event in which she and all her sisters had to travel to different places in the world and fulfill specific tasks while judged by their teachers and protected by thousands of trained soldiers, constantly by their side. If she had to go, she had hoped to be tasked with negotiating trade deals or improving the empire’s infrastructure. Anything in which she could truly portray her intelligence and talent for diplomacy. But instead of that, she was tasked with investigating a myth. A story told to children.

Zamira sighed inside but kept a stone-cold face on the outside. “I understand your holiness.”

“Good, good. You can leave. Tomorrow you will be on the ship toward Beymore, so rest,” The Tarabyn In the middle said.

Zamira bowed before she turned and left the Council Hall.

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