****1.AIJA****

An ornate lucid dream.

Or mere mania.

Which of the two reigned her mind, Aija didn't know.

But did it matter which when her mind and life and beliefs were torn asunder?

The last two days had rushed in a plenitude of discussions and activities, all through which Aija had detached herself from. She'd been having a cataclysm of her own. Her mind and heart had plunged into an overdrive of thoughts and emotions, driving her insane and had, in the end, totally shut down, leaving her with a void in its nest of torment.

Aija's world had capsized, yet again.

Wanting to be alone and needing to just breathe, Aija had climbed to the roof – and found that the slanting slopes had access as if made for humans to step out to it and take a seat. She sat there now, watching the perpetual dawn seizing the horizon.

Aija had, over and over again, thought of all that had happened, had ripped apart everything she'd been told, had pieced together the shards of information she had in unique sets. And yet, she realized that she couldn't have predicted what had come to occur. She had blamed herself for not seeing things as they were, caught up in the little details and missing the big picture. She had blamed the others for lying to her, for thinking they needed to protect her. Aija had questioned her worth – for who was worthy if they needed to be lied to? She'd hated the others and hated herself more to the point she'd wanted to run. But with a war upon them, she lingered.

Thieron had killed Alton and Dhor-Wo and brought back the Àvo. And he'd had it planned for years. So, why hadn't he just told her the truth? Had it been an honest error in his judgement of her? Or didn't he trust her? Would she have believed him had he told her the truth earlier on? He had tried in Zya'ara, and she'd dismissed him. But Aija had also started trusting him more and more and relying on him too, even when she hadn't known aura colour-meanings or even his intentions. Her soul had recognised his as good, though he'd never shown himself as trustworthy. And that's what had set her heart on a fire of chaos.

Still, a grave question stood unanswered – would Aija forgive Thieron for all he'd done?

"Forgiveness may start with others, but it can only be fulfilled by oneself,"

The familiar voice glided over Aija's bones, making her body thrum under its resonance. Aija swivelled around; the winged-man from her dreams stood on the ridge of the roof, white wings spread out, arms crossed over his chest, and as always in Iernei robes. Aija didn't know much about Iernei or Ytèan Gods or other Holy Entities other than the Ro'ein. But she'd seen this man with the Ro'ein, and she felt pretty confident of his holy status. That and he appeared as and when he desired, even in dreams.

Aija stood, taking in his white aura that lent a bright glow to all around them. Why did the Ytai believe their Gods left? Or was she delusional enough to imagine them?

"You may choose to forgive him, but will he forgive himself?"

"Is it that hard to forgive oneself?"

The man smiled. "You called for me,"

"That was days ago," Aija frowned.

The man nodded as if obvious. His silver hair glistened like oil over water under his aura. His aura appeared to be lucent like the aura of the moon at its fullest and didn't show other colours in it, rendering his emotions and thoughts unreadable.

"Are you a God?"

His eyes rounded, and Aija noticed that his eyes were a shade of yellow-green, rimmed blue, two-toned like Ytai and Iernei eyes.

"I am not a God," he shook his head. "I am a Spirit."

"What's the difference?" Aija put her hands over her hips.

"The Goddess created me,"

"And who created the Goddess?"

The Spirit gave a look that showed he thought her weird. "She's always existed since the beginning of time."

"And the girl who was with you the other day?"

"I don't speak for her," his tone held finality. He tucked his wings at the back; the wind ruffled the pure-white feathers.

Aija huffed. "Well, you're late. I had questions then,"

"And they're answered now?"

"Yes, no...."

The Spirit gave her an amused look.

"You could tell me this – is Thieron, honestly, on the right side?"

"What does your heart say?"

"I don't care what it does; I'm asking you,"

The man laughed. His gaze shifted from Aija to the small incision of sunlight peeking over the horizon, and Aija wondered if once she'd seen someone much like him, but with eyes of blue rimmed with the same light yellow-green.

"Your heart is always true, Aija Oshiro," he whispered, gaze set faraway. "The question is, do you trust yourself?"

Aija spent a few seconds glaring at him, considering his non-answer. Were Holy Entities always so infuriatingly cryptic?

"What of my task?" she asked. "Is it done?"

"Only based on what you choose shall it be done. Or not," he turned to her, lips laced with a smirk. "Or it has been done."

Aija huffed. "I have nothing more to ask of you." She did, sort of, but knew all she'd receive were non-answers.

"Ro'ere!"

The sound of a glass falling and tumbling over the roof came from behind them. Hra'an, Luka's team member from the Ithi'hra, stood at the tiny access door leading to the rooftop, mouth agape.

Aija had since learnt about the Ithi'hra. Luka had told her that the Ithi'hra was the parent organisation of the R'ies and held the highest authority. The most prominent Inter-planet establishment, Ithi'hra, had several planets as its members. The Ithi'hra mainly sought new life-worlds and protected existing ones on their database. Luka had, all along, been trying to save Earth.

"I...I can see you," Hra'an spoke in Ytèan, but Aija understood him even without the translation-rune. "Gods!" Hra'an knelt in front of the Spirit.

Aija glanced between the Ytai and the Spirit; the Spirit seemed quite taken back by the display of veneration.

"Stand up, Hra'an of Xr'ouilm," the Spirit announced.

Hra'an did, still looking at him with his head lowered. Hra'an's silver hair, much like the Spirit's, glittered under the Spirit's aura. Hra'an was young, perhaps in his late-twenties in human-years, and his silver hair, against his pale skin, made his silver-violet eyes striking, like gems set in white stone. Aija, initially, had had a hard time figuring out if he were a man or a woman. He seemed like An'ri, androgynous. But she'd been too afraid of him to ask if she should address him with 'sun'h'.

"You exist," Hra'an spoke, "why did you leave us?"

"You believe in me?" the Spirit asked.

Hra'an nodded.

"You see me, hear me?"

Hra'an nodded again.

"Do you still think we left?"

Aija rolled her eyes, annoyed; again with the obscure answers.

Hra'an peered up at the Spirit, a slight confusion on his face. "Which Spirit are you?"

"Free-Will," the Spirit declared.

Hra'an's audible intake of air in shock made Aija tremble.

"He was just leaving," she announced. "Right?" she asked the Spirit, vexed with him. "You're not helpful, anyway."

"You can't speak to him in such manner," admonished Hra'an, lifting his head to look at her properly.

The Spirit grinned, and Hra'an observed him, perplexed.

"Those of the stars live as their own," the Spirit told Hra'an.

It made no sense to Aija, but Hra'an's wide-eyed gaze flitted between her and the Spirit. "Ro'ere," he gasped. Gods.

"This fight isn't the one you've got to hold worries for," the Spirit cautioned her with a stern look.

Aija didn't bother asking which fight she'd have to worry about; he wouldn't answer. Instead, she asked, "What's your name?"

"No," Hra'an shook his head violently. "Don't take the answer to that."

Aija frowned at him. Hra'an was puzzling. Why couldn't she know the Spirit's name?

"Do you still want my name?" the Spirit inquired, eyes studying her, expression solemn.

"No, she doesn't," Hra'an insisted, tone hurried, hands waving wildly.

Aija nodded, paying no heed to the Ytai.

"I am Tai'un," the Spirit said, his voice sending a shiver through Aija, and she felt like some kind of bond was sealed, inked by blood in her bones.

The Spirit – Tai'un – vanished, taking his luminescence with him. Aija released a sharp breath of air, feeling like she'd been punched in her lungs.

"You're stupid," Hra'an raged in CommLang. "Taking a Spirit's true name connects you to them. You may be stuck doing his bidding – whatever he may ask of you. You fool,"

Aija closed her eyes, relishing the power of his name coursing through her blood. She'd felt the same when she'd uttered Thieron's Ytèan name for the very first time.

"Names hold power," Hra'an continued. "It's why Ytai and Iernei never gave their true names to others they have no close relationship with. It, of course, changed over time after the Holy Entities stopped living amongst us. But, you should never take the name of a Spirit or God."

Aija opened her eyes. Hra'an appeared worried for her, not angry; his voice hadn't been unkind.

"Shouldn't I hold power over him since I took his name?"

"It doesn't work that way with the Spirits and Gods," Hra'an alleged. "He controls you. You took the name of the Spirit of Free-Will. He's bound by no rules of the Gods."

"You heard his name too,"

"No, I didn't. Only you did."

****

Aija went back down, feeling the power of Tai'un's name still running through her.

Everyone seated around an ancient wooden table was having dinner. Or breakfast; time was a god-awful concept on the South-Land.

Nala and Zuri were huddled against the other, inseparable like the sun and its planets. Aija had left her best friend to Nala and spent her time alone, mostly avoiding them all. Only once, Var-Inu had handed her a cup of tea, and she'd sat with him, both of them silent.

"Ai, lunch," Zuri called out.

So, it was afternoon.

"I'm not hungry," Aija announced and went to grab a bottle of juice, madly aware of Thieron's gaze on her. She took a bottle of juice and went to her room, feeling a tingle from Thieron's eyes on her.

Thieron had stayed away from Aija but always stole glances at her. Possibly, hoping she'd approach him first. But Aija was on a strike of her own – she didn't want to talk to anyone unless necessary. She'd wanted them to apologize to her for treating her like a liability, one who needed protecting, one to be lied to. But none had, and she'd driven herself into a hole of pity, despair, and pettiness.

Aija sat on the bed in one of the rooms upstairs. With their timing messed up from the trip to Ytèan, everyone slept at odd times, at different times, each day. She took a swing of juice; cherry, not one of her favourites being more bitter than sweet.

Ayr'i, Thieron's sister, resembled Eiva so much, it had Aija missing the Clan Leader, her family, and Zya'ara all over again. Ayr'i, too, like Thieron had two different coloured, two-toned eyes; Thieron's left was blue-green and right, pink-purple, Ayr'i's was the opposite. And it was their eyes alone linking them as blood-siblings. Ayr'i looked like Eiva, and Aija wondered if Thieron resembled his father. Aija hadn't seen En'ari and his father's photos in Zya'ara. Perhaps, they were there, but she'd concentrated on Thieron's wedding photo. She'd also seen Ayr'i in a few of them, she'd remembered belatedly.

Aija glanced from her fading healing-runes that Eiva had given to the dark outside. It seemed peaceful but was far from it. Since the discovery of everyone's powers – thanks to the Àvo, as A'ed had predicted – they spent time controlling their powers and practising to use them if War did break out.

Two days ago, after the initial scare, the Leadership hadn't attacked. Yet. Var-Inu and Ba'diur tracked the activities of the Army; they were still arriving in large numbers. They had the Human Settlement surrounded – the Gale's Core on the South – and they mostly had no inkling of the large Zayr Settlement a little away from the Core, leaving it alone. The Zayr, too, were prepping for the attack but waited for the Gale, who weren't making the first move. They were struggling to help Gale members arriving there from the Main Lands to land safely on the other side of the South- Land.

All sides were staving off an attack, and it looked like the Gale and the Zayr wouldn't attack unless started by the Leadership. Or perhaps, the Leadership didn't want to risk War and only meant to keep the Gale blocked from its operations. Aija desperately hoped it was the case as the Leadership had asked the Gale to surrender several times. But the Gale refused. The Leadership announced warning after warning, and no one could predict when their patience would deplete.

Var-Inu had tried to make contact with the Gale, but they were surrounded entirely. Even the newly arriving members from the Main Lands were stuck on the opposite side of the South.

So now, all they could do was wait.

Aija considered Rei's work with the Gale. Had he arrived too? Could she meet him? Or had he chosen to stay back on the Main Lands for the sake of their family? She hoped Vincent was with him wherever he was.

"Ms Niyarah," Xan ambled into the room, distracting her stream of thoughts.

"Xan,"

Xan leapt to the bed and curled up beside her. "Everyone's worried about you,"

Aija sighed.

"What flavour is that?"

"Cherry,"

"Ew...," Xan hissed, making Aija smile. "Why are you ignoring them, Ms Niyarah?"

"Did you know the truth, Xan, of their plans?"

"No," he peered up at her through cat eyes. "I'm often ignored because I'm only a cat. I also can't help in any way. I found out when you did; even Ms King didn't tell me of her plans."

Aija inspected Xan; she'd never given much thought to how he felt. She only thought he was grateful to be alive, as he'd mentioned. She'd never considered its following impact.

"So you know how I feel," Aija sympathized, "useless. I'm sorry, Xan."

"You're not useless,"

"I am if I need to be lied to, to make me comply. Even Zuri lied; that hurt the most."

Xan rested his front paws on her lap and placed little head on them, looking up at her, eyes round. "I'm sorry, Ms Niyarah. But I know they did what they thought was best to protect you. I find that when people ask me to stay far, it's because they don't want me to get hurt. And honestly, I can't help...me helping is staying out of the way."

"But I can help, Xan," Aija brought the lightning to her palms. It lent an eerie glow into the dark. "I hate it the most that they think I'm weak."

"What would help, Ms Niyarah?" Xan dug his claws halfway through her jeans, eyes on the purple sparks coating her fingers.

"Just a sorry," Aija whispered, calling off the electricity. "A simple sorry for lying,"

"Sounds right,"

"Do you ever regret becoming a cat, Xan?"

"No. But I hate the only way I'm useful is by staying out of other's way. I want to make a difference too."

Aija put her palm on his head and stroked him gently. He purred, making Aija muse over how much of the line between Xan and the cat had blurred. But Aija could see his red soul shining all around the cat.

Aija had seen Zuri's aura before they'd left for the Open that day. But she'd not seen anything suspicious. Zuri hadn't explicitly lied – she'd withheld information, and Aija still didn't know much about aura colour-meanings to catch subtle details. She'd understood that Zuri hadn't told her about her plans since she wouldn't have agreed. They were lucky all had worked out in the end, and Thieron had returned to them. But if they hadn't, all of humanity would've been wiped off Earth because Zuri didn't want to go without her.

Aija's fingers went to the ist'we stone on the chain. She also had the Àvo, though she didn't know what to do with it. She stayed to help fight against the Leadership, but she yearned to go, not home, but to...Ierne. But whenever she thought of Aa'di, she inevitably thought of Thieron: the look in his eyes, the pink in his red aura, his touch...

"Aija," Zuri stood at the door, eyes holding alarm. "You need to see this,"

Aija and Xan followed Zuri down. A DigiScreen, set up against the wall, buzzed, showing the news. Nala, Luka, Thieron, Ayr'i, A'ed, D'ea, and Hra'an were settled in front of it. Var-Inu and Ba'diur weren't there. Xan leapt up the table, sitting there. Everyone turned to look at Aija as she joined them, and Thieron's gaze remained on her the longest. But she chose to ignore him again and focus on the news.

Images of crumbled building popped up on the Screen; they were clearly of the Main Lands, and they reminded Aija of the attack on the Research Centre months ago. The news anchor returned on-screen and continued with her reports.

"The images were from the various locations currently brought down successfully by the Leadership three days ago. At present, five Cores have been demolished, and several Gale members captured...,"

Aija's fluttered like a panicked, caged bird. Oh, no...

"....but the most shocking of details we have received from our on-scene reporters is that the identity of the Leader of this notorious Gale has been secured," the anchor went on, and Rei's photo appeared on the screen beside the anchor's image. Aija's heart nearly failed her as she saw her brother's name under his photo. "Rei Veer Rao-Oshiro has been confirmed to be the Leader of the atrocious Gale, wreaking havoc on our peaceful Pristine Cities. Rei Oshiro has worked under the name Goldstar for about four years now with the Gale, and the family will now be taken for Interrogation. As I report, the Leadership searches for him after the secret building he's worked at was shelled by the Secures..."

Everything the woman spoke afterwards became a garble of sounds to Aija. The Core where Rei worked was attacked. Panicking, Aija looked around at the group of Ytai and humans seated. Everyone had a tint of cream-yellow surprise in their auras. Thieron studied her with concern, as the others still concentrated on the news.

Aija's legs gave way; she fell.

"Ai," Zuri knelt by her.

Aija glimpsed at Zuri, but her best friend offered no words of comfort. There were none to give when Rei might have died in the attack, and if not, he'd be captured by Secures.

"I'm sorry," Zuri hugged her.

Aija could do nothing but cry her heart out.

✽✽✽