Potenkiah, the deathgiver

Chapter 5.2

Still weak, she stood up, changed her clothes, silently left the Hall, and climbed the stairs to the library in the Guest Tower. She had to write an essay for Art Appreciation, solve some problems for Physics applied to Aerodynamics, study Geography for an exam, and write a paper for History. So long as hunger let her think.

Yet again her mentor had handed out individual subjects. Luckily, hers was about the rise and fall of the Ancient Empire, a subject she dominated. However, she gladly accepted the books she was given as sources.

In the context section she began to write about an Eloah where whoever held the Sacred Stones had the power to give life or death, which was why the wars to obtain them were everyday life for the people. Battles between winged beings tended to be bloody, as no wall was high enough to keep them out; hence, towers were built out of solid rock and the use of domes was perfected. Arrows were too slow to hit them in mid flight, so spears and crossbows with poisoned tips were the best defense mechanism, even though falls killed more fighters than the actual war wounds did.

After that, she explained a theory widely accepted by historians that suggested the priests called the Elohin had acquired the stones through trickery, robbery and infiltration. It was believed that they left quietly with their bounty and a maiden as hostage, and it was not until half an overnight flight later that the previous owner discovered they were missing, and sounded the alarm. That was why they weren’t on the ground when the Great Wave hit.

Everyone slept, according to the tales, when a massive landslide hit the interior sea. Half the mountain suddenly fell into the water, causing a gigantic wave to travel in all directions at the speed of sound, razing the coasts to the ground in all the region at an hour when all of its inhabitants were asleep, unaware of the approaching disaster. The circumstances allowed the priests to start their empire, even though they were few and had no great army at their disposition. They exploited the tragedy, claiming the Great Wave was some kind of divine punishment. The devastation and death were such, that the survivors even agreed to change their old belief system. Such was the birth of the empire, four thousand beltas before.

Their territory extended from Drakó Bay in the south, to the mountain range of Arguell to the north, the great barrier that divided the world in two. On an island in the Crater Sea -or Interior Sea- where it was believed that the stones fell when they hit the planet’s surface, they had built a temple to keep Potenkiah and Aeviniah safe, the nucleus of their religion.

Each time the moons aligned, sacrifices were offered to the gods, and in the Great Wave memorial, the amount of offerings could be equated to a massacre. The priests assured that, should they not get their payment in blood, the gods would cease to bless the world with Aeviniah’s healing power, and destroy it, not through earth and water anymore, but with fire and lava. As if that were not enough, they unleashed Potenkiah’s deadly wrath at the slightest provocation. In other words, it was an oppressive government, a regime of terror.

During the two thousand beltas of imperial subjugation, Eloahns escaped into the impassable mountain range, home to garghulls -before the gray skinned species with leathery wings became extinct from Eloah- and settled to the north of the mountains, in cold and unexplored lands.

The deserters and their descendants formed communities called raiks, later dukedoms, that despite their differences and rivalries, managed to establish intellectual, artistic, scientific, and technological development. Chains of commerce were founded, for both goods and services, as well as the first spinning mills. Elohí, mother to all, was the only deity they worshipped.

Towards the belta one thousand nine hundred since the Great Wave, the northernman Erol the Wise, rakiran of Eneviah, and ambassador before the newly arrived humans -some experts say he was even influenced by them- gave himself to the epic enterprise of overthrowing the empire in the south. The story went that at the head of a small army, he was able to rescue the southerners from its dominion, and delivered the final blow by taking the Stone’s temple by assault, and capturing the Elohin, who he condemned to exile.

Bridget contemplated whether she should mention what happened to the southerners afterward, who wouldn’t forgive their rescuers for the loss of Aeviniah, their treasure. They claimed that they would have preferred to remain under the empire’s oppression for another three thousand beltas, to losing the fountain of life. Erol’s aging and death, as well as that of his subjects, was the only thing that convinced them that they were not being fooled. The northerners had not hidden Aeviniah in their castle; it was truly gone.

As for the rest of her homework, it could wait. She turned off the ProCom and rested her elbows on the table.

Goddess, I need the dining room, how much longer until it opens? She checked her wristwatch. An hour!

She could go out to the gardens or maybe look for her sister, Annie and Paty… She had to distract herself from food somehow.

Since she couldn’t find the librarian that had lent her the books, she went to the History section to put them away herself. It was a dark corner where a restoration specialist had a room where he applied chemicals to the most ancient books in order to preserve them. On the desk there were a few that were set apart so their content could be digitized, and others, the most fragile, were protected by locked hermetic cubes. One in particular stood out, on its pretty marble bookstand and covered by a transparent dome of plexiglass. It was finely bound in red velvet. The first thing she noticed was that it had no title. After making sure no one was watching, she touched the digital lock, certain that it would react to her fingerprint just like the door to the underground vault had, that day she had gotten lost. She opened the lid.

Feathers…! It was handwritten in characters she had only seen once, for a paper she had written about dead tongues. After a quick scan, she found a beautiful illustration of Potenkiah and the sword it was set on. She shuddered. The mysterious book was new to her, and about a subject that attracted her due to the relationship between Potenkiah and her life. It was said the Stone was responsible for one of her ancestor’s visions, Queen Bonniet Andryl, who had written the prophecy. Besides, translating the words represented a challenge to Bridget. She stopped herself just before lifting it.

You shouldn’t. It’s an antique, you’ll get in trouble.

She took back her hands, fought temptation and left the library, back on the original plan of finding her friends. Annie must have finished her piano lessons by now.

She found her next to the fountain, in the square that connected the five towers in the palace complex. The monumental atrium was also a meeting point for many others. Over their heads, dozens of winged Eloahns glided in descending spirals or fluttered to their preferred balcony. While Bridget walked towards her, Annie shot her a meaningful look. The Princess glanced to her right, saw the young man that had captured her sister’s attention, and that was enough to understand that she didn’t want her presence.

Her luck didn’t improve with Paterinet Obrien, who she saw in a family room, near her private apartment, just as she enthusiastically hugged her parents, freshly arrived from a short trip.

It’s better this way. Won’t have to explain myself. She turned around.

She was already lucky they hadn’t asked her about her weary eyes and unusually tired appearance.

As she walked towards the elevator, she kept thinking that it shouldn’t surprise her that her friends were not actively waiting for her, skipping with joy at the thought of seeing her, as she was supposed to be in her maths lesson at this hour. Just like Paty, Bridget would have traded a walk in the gardens for a chance to be with her parents -both the real ones, and the foster ones, who also travelled a lot. Sometimes she would surprise herself yearning for a hug, wishing the Britters wouldn’t hold back their affection just because she was the heir to the throne. Nothing guaranteed that she would be crowned. Her grandmother Danielle had been skipped in the line of succession, just to cite an example.

As if her feet had a will of their own, she found herself before the bookstand and the mysterious red book. I’ll be careful. She held it gently, as if it were a newborn, and took it with her.