Klithyia

Chapter 3

        "Empress, if you will allow us, we have something to show you," the voice said.

        "No. Leave me alone. Leave me alone!" She cried out, covering her eyes. I will not look at them. I will not.

          Evinan became aware of a presence in her room. Someone was there. A bicca. She refused to look, to open her eyes and fall prey to its beauty. 

        "We have no klithyia on us, Evinan. We do not wish to harm you. We never wished to harm you. We apologize for all the pain we brought you all those years ago, and we wish to make amends. We bring you no harm. We promise," the bicca's voice was soothing, gentle. It calmed Evinan, and she felt her heartbeat slow. A deep, long sigh escaped her body, leaving the empress fatigued and famished. At this point in time, all she wanted was food and rest. Especially food.

        "The second we leave you, you will go back to your original state. You feel an absence of the longing, don't you, Empress? Your mind is cleared, isn't it? We underestimated you, all those years ago. Once someone accepts klithyia into their life, it is almost impossible to separate themself from its influence. You were the first to do so, and we were not expecting the results. You must believe us: we did not know that after all these years you would still be so affected."

        Empress Evinan, still refusing to look at the bicca before her, looked away and said, "I do not believe you. You lied to me then, and you lie now. I will not be fooled by your kind any longer."

         When the bicca spoke this time, she sounded mournful. Her words were long and drawn-out, voice soft. "Very well then, Empress. Will you at least allow us to show you something? We came all this way just to show you..." she trailed off, and Evinan could almost feel the bicca's head droop.

         Evinan's heart twinged in sympathy, and she could not help but look up at the bicca. Evinan caught her breath; she had forgotten just how beautiful the biccas really were. Her long, white hair fell from the top of her head, flowing downwards until it reached her waist. The girl's arms were outstretched, and her light brown hands were all the skin to be seen amidst the numerous folds of the long, draping robes she wore. It had almost every color of varying shades: blue, purple, green, yellow. The colors were intertwined, and as the bicca moved, they changed in their hue, for they were hit upon by the light from up above. The bicca's head was indeed bowed, but when she looked up, Evinan felt blinded with the face's radiance. Evinan found she could barely describe the girl's beauty, the bewitching affect those violet eyes, full of tears, cast upon the Empress when they looked up at her. The very dye on her tanned face seemed creased with worry. She radiated feeling in its purest form— the bicca felt horrible for the harm Evinan had been caused. Indeed, all Evinan wanted to do now was run into the girl's open arms, crying and begging for forgiveness. Maybe... maybe they aren't so bad after all. Maybe it was just me all along.

         Before Evinan knew quite what was happening, she realized the bicca was walking over to her; the rustling of her robes grazing the floor as she glided over to the distraught woman. She grabbed Evinan's hands with her own, and looked up into the empress's face. "We have a gift for you, little one. A peace-offering. Are you ready to listen to us?"

         Evinan nodded, and hand-in-hand the bicca and Evinan walked to the center of the room, facing each other. Evinan stared down into the bicca's upturned eyes, so much closer to the front of her face than the Luriel's. She could see the color in the pupils much more clearly; the different shades woven together were constantly shifting with the bicca's mood.

         "I'm afraid once I leave, you will lose the clarity my presence brings you. You will lose the trust, the peace. The well-being. That is the problem with your kind and the others like you— you cannot trust. You cannot let go of the past. You cannot live in peace together, accepting your differences but living together in harmony. Empress, we biccas know that people are like music. Each note sounds different and can make beautiful sounds by itself, but it's not until all the different notes come together they can play a song. That is what we strive to accomplish; nothing more. We are one with each other and the nature around us, yet separate individuals. A single song, but each our own note. We tried to teach you that, and we failed. Now we will try to help you again. Bend down. I need to be able to reach your head."

          The Empress did so, allowing herself to be buried in the heavy robes as the bicca placed her hands on Evinan's head, whispering. And then she started to sing. It was so soft, so quiet, yet so enchanting. The Empress found she had trouble simply keeping her head up, her mind emptying itself completely. She was one with the world. She felt no pain. No desire. No responsibility. She simply wished to continue as she was currently; sitting while just above an angel— for that must be what a bicca truly is— sang foreign words to her. 

           The song lasted several minutes, and during that time any number of things could have happened. Empress Evinan did not know nor care, simply listened. When the song ended, it's lingering sounds continued to echo through her brain, and Evinan fell over, exhausted. She heard the angelic bicca above her say, voice dripping with sorrow, "When I leave you, your mind will be tainted again. You will once again hate us; hurt us with your thoughts. Your heart will be filled for the longing of klithyia again. Your memory of this moment will be changed, as all your memories have been. Prejudice and hatred will drive you again. As long as you resist the goodness of klithyia, you will be unable to function, unable to go outside without meeting your addiction. But we gave you a gift. When you wish, you can enter the mind of any other Luriel. Their passions and desires will become yours for a short amount of time. You will see through their eyes, and they will not know that you do so. Your only limitation is yourself. That way, you can see the fate of your people, though you cannot control it. But Evinan," and now her voice took a hopeful tone, the thought bringing her evident joy, "When you are ready to accept it, tell us. Cry out to us. We will hear you, and we will gladly give you what your heart so rightfully desires. I myself will place a bottle of it in your hands."

          The bicca said goodbye to the Empress, and left amid Evinan's protests. It seemed to her there was a bright, blinding light, and then emptiness stood where once a beautiful...

          It came back to her. The need, the longing, the hatred. I was fooled again. They fooled me again! Why did they come back? How did they get here?

          Evinan wished to shriek, and she slammed her fist into her heart. Why couldn't she have the peace she just felt? Why wasn't it always that way? "I myself will place a bottle of it in your hands." The girl now seemed sinister. Was she smiling evilly when she said that? Evinan could imagine what the bicca's face must have looked like. Pure evil must have shown itself the second it's prey looked away, the second her guard was down. All that stuff about being a single note in a song, once so poetic, now seemed laughable. Like that's even original. My daughter could have come up with that.

           And that burning passion once again came forth. They knew this would happen to whoever left them. It's a way to control. A way to power. A way to world domination. They don't care about anyone else. If every note is so necessary, why don't you ask how you make that klithyia? It doesn't come from the air. 

            The bicca's beauty filled her mind, but now she simply despised it. What about her face was so special? Nothing. It was all the paint covering parts of it up. I could wear her robes and paint my face and look just as colorful.

          The gift. What gift? They call watching someone take over your world instead of participating in it a gift? They just want to torture me even more. But I can't go out, now can I? I won't be able to resist once it starts. And I need to keep my head to instruct the few who listen to me. Maybe I'll use their, "gift," to overthrow them. I will triumph over them one day. Those demons. Those despicable demons. All evil fails in the end, right?

         The Empress stood, feeling a wave of sickness wash over her. The bicca's singing came back to her, but now she realized her relaxed state was what caused its notes to sound good. A monkey could have been making noises and I would have thought it beautiful.

         She smiled, and rushed outside. She knew what needed to be done. "Guard," she signed to the the nearest man. "I know I'm not the Empress anymore, but I need arm and ankle restraints, rope, and my two children. I swear it's not to bond them— you can come and watch if you wish. The supplies aren't for them. They are for me."