Loss of Sight
When Arrazanal’s voice was too hoarse to scream, she beat her fists against her dorm room door until her knuckles turned bloody. She recoiled and her pained hands gave the beaten door a swift, furiously kicking it which resulted in her large toe making an unsavoury cracking sound. She dropped to her behind. Her eyes stung with tears that never seemed to end. There was no one in her room, except herself and the memory of her sister.
That night, her thoughts wouldn’t let her sleep, even the other women in the dorm tried to comfort her, but their words were like murmurs beyond a mountain. The little joy the refugees had tried to make during their stay on Emasaran was stripped and replaced with more worry and suspicion. Larizinal had failed to sway the refugees from attempting any further agitation towards the Noszarel, and the other tribe had their own ideas on how to rid of the Nalashi menace on the island. The war was inching closer to Emasaran by the day.
Arrazanal refused to continue feeling helpless. Even though the sea separated her from her home, she understood it was time to act. How can she find her sister is she was stuck on the island? She wondered. Larizinal was bonded the spirits, but she had her own plate of worries to handle. Then her thoughts travelled to Yasenanos. The blind Noszarel girl would know where Zjelazanal would be, Arr hoped. By the first crack of dawn, she sprung out of the dorm room and slinked past the hearth. Several Nalashi were already eating their first meal of the day. Her stomach yearned for their food, but she feared that Yasenanos would already be away for her classes. The time for eating had to wait.
Once out in the winds, Arrazanal faced the Noszarel inn. To her dismay, there were a dozen more guards patrolling around the building and cliff edge, too many for her to empathically mask her way around. A long lavender tail hung loosely above her head and her eyes travelled high to the branch to see Sheek’zeer grooming her paw. Arrazanal bit her lip, could the tiger help her find Yasenanos?
“Sheek’zeer?” Arr called to the branch. The feline whirled its head around. Her orange eyes widened to see Arrazanal so close. To her horror, her tiger friend had reddish stains on her snout and lips. Sheek’zeer shook the tree branch violently as she leapt down. Her wide tongue licked Arrazanal’s elbow, almost sending the girl in a paralytic disgusted state.
“I need a favour from you,” Arr said, rubbing the tiger’s head while careful not to touch the bloodstains. She looked deep into her eyes and pictured Yasenanos’s face clearly in her mind.
I need you to find her for me and tell her to meet me in the herb garden. She transmitted her thoughts to the feline. Sheek’zeer cocked her head to the side, uncertain at the strange thoughts entering her mind. Arrazanal stared into her hypnotic sunset eyes as she forced herself deeper into the tiger’s consciousness, repeating the message over and over again. In a blink of an eye, Sheek’zeer licked her sandy tongue across Arrazanal’s cheek before leaping into the tree and vanishing behind the foliage.
“You’re going the wrong way...” Arr whispered, but who was she to deny a tiger’s animal instinct.
Her feet shuffled along the cobbled path. She saw many keepers and druids walking past, paying her no mind. The garden she had discovered since her arrival was filled with students. Some of them were in deep meditations with large black bags under their eyes, while others were blasted with a green light by the druids. Those students collapsed to the grass and were covered in ashy grey marks, while their skins sang from their teachers. Arrazanal shivered at the thought that Nalashi children were brutalised in such a manner by supposed ‘enlightened’ druids. Larizinal had gone through this training and survived, so did her own mother when in her youth. Maybe her mother wasn’t as weak as she had once believed.
She noticed they were grouped between Noszarel trainees and the Nalashi. She stared long enough to catch the Noszarel students’ attention. Their blue eyes narrowed at her while the Nalashi whispered among themselves. Arrazanal didn’t need to be an empath to understand her presence was unwelcome.
To the edge of the garden, rows of edible plants grew tall and thick protected by neighbouring trees. Arrazanal found the picturesque grassy mound away from the others to rest and wait for Yasenanos, but minutes felt like hours with such uncertainty. Her thoughts played around the conversation with the Noszarel girl. How was she to ask for help from her? What would happen if she refused? And then her sister would be lost like the many before her. What of Dathazanal? Was he bothering to search for their sibling or was he too bent on driving the Noszarel from their village? And what of Kaitajinal? There were too many questions for her hungry brain.
Her tired eyes drifted to the vegetation beside her. Silver and blue fist-sized apples swayed in the wind on the plants. Her stomach called out to her mind, begging her to fill it. Arrazanal licked her lips as she watched the apples bounce on the branches. She snuck a glance to the druids and students near the garden centre, would they care if one fruit was missing? After all, druids would understand no one owns nature.
With feline-like reflexes, she swiped the biggest apple from the branch and rubbed its waxy skin on her thigh. She covered the fruit with both hands as her teeth sunk into the tough yellow flesh. The crunching brought delight to her ears as the juicy sweetness of the apple brought delight to mouth. She had almost forgotten where she was as she bit further into the fruit until a familiar presence snapped her out from her brief euphoria.
“I didn’t take you for a thief,” Yas said from behind. Her voice was flat, border lining angry. Arrazanal spun around with food still in her mouth to see Yasenanos standing above her with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Oh, I was…Thank you for coming,” Arr said as she swallowed the last piece of apple.
“Bold of you to summon me, especially using a giant tiger that burst through the door and broke my altar to get my attention,” she said, her blank eyes overlooking Arr’s head.
“I’m sorry about that-,” Arr said rising to her feet, meeting Yas’s height.
“Hmm, are you also sorry for the boy that was wrongly accused of assault and expelled from the island? Do you have a clue about the shame that will bring him?” Yas said. Her pink brows furrowed on her head. Arrazanal felt Yas’s anger slamming against her skin.
“I know you’re mad, and I should’ve spoken out about it. I almost had, but it’s complicated,” she said.
“Of course, it is, all important things are. Saying nothing is about as bad as lying. I thought you were better than that,” Yas said shaking her head.
“Well, there is a way of proving it. I need your help finding my sister,” Arr said.
Yas’s brows shot up, yet her arms remained crossed. “What do you want from me?”
“You said your inner eye can find distant locations; can you also find people?” Arr said leaning close.
“I’ve not attempted it. I don’t think I can if they’re a stranger,” she said, with her tone gradually softening.
“So, you would need to know a little more about her? Well, she is my shoulder’s height, she usually wears flowers in her hair-,”
“Nai I mean if I’m not emotionally connected with them, then I probably can’t find them. Though you are…” Yas said tapping her pointy chin.
“Don’t be a silly benor’e, I don’t have that kind of power!” Arr said.
Yas grabbed her arm and pulled her close. “Not yet,” she whispered.
Arrazanal twitched under her grip. She was strong for someone with her supple frame, yet another thing that surprised her about Yas. “And what? You think that I can just get that ability with a snap of your lavender fingers? She could have been captured, or dead,”
Yasenanos sighed. She released her grip and slid her hand into a maroon satchel and pulled out the small notebook. “This belonged to my mind’s eye teacher. He gave it to me hoping one day I might see the written runes through the psionic sense, but that will never happen. No doubt there’s mention on the basics of remote viewing in here, but that’s a start.”
Arrazanal took the journal. “So, where can I find him when I’m done with this?”
“His body is buried north of the peninsula. You could try to summon his wraith,” she said.
“Ugh, nai. I had some bad encounters with wraiths before,” Arr said as her back shivered.
Yas leaned across to Arr’s ear. “Students are forbidden teaching students. You cannot tell anyone that I’ll be teaching you. For now, read that book.”
“I can’t read Noszarel runes.” Arr said.
“Learn.” Yas said as she winked.
Before Arrazanal could utter another word, Yasenanos sprung around and skipped away from the garden.
~
The halls were quiet at the Nalashi inn; the refugees and students were going about their daily routines to create some sense of peace during turbulent times. Unfortunately, Rosh and his gang of angry friends had made it a mission to speak in hushed tones. Arrazanal had noticed that their group was growing larger by the day as they pulled more people in their mysterious campaign. It was clear that her presence halted all conversation whenever she strayed too close to their table.
Arrazanal didn’t want to care what they thought of her, but their menacing glares made her psychic senses uneasy. She would retreat to her empty dorm room to begin studying Yasenanos’ notebook. Unfortunately, most of the text was written in a language unfamiliar to her eyes. The library beyond the herb garden was ideal for translations, but since she wasn’t considered to be a student, her reading a Noszarel book would stir unwanted attention from the keepers and her own kin.
According to the text, remote viewing was used as a form of scouting during the height of the Na’leu civilization. It was taught to all Ezoni from their childhood in order to harness their natural psionic power into useable abilities. However, shortly after the first tribe had split into smaller ones, the number of Ezoni who had these gifts declined. The reason why this happened was unclear to many historians, but many philosophers debated that it was due to the growing corruption from within.
When the nights rolled in, Arrazanal would meditate in her hammock. She pictured her sister many times, each time showing a different facial expression, from sad to angry, to happy. Arrazanal’s dreams were also unfocused; she would see Zjelazanal skipping in a field of teal roses, only for the image to turn into her chained in a dungeon without windows. Her eyes would shoot open, unwilling to see the horrors of where her sister might be, but a line repeated in the notebook states ‘farsight is not for the faint-hearted’. After everything she had experienced, Arrazanal refused to believe she was weak-minded, but the study of farsight had proved otherwise.
After every lesson in the alchemy laboratory, Yasenanos and Arrazanal met in secret at the higher reaches of Emasaran. There was a decrepit, forlorn hut that sat in an overgrown forest. Its ceiling had caved in, and the walls had crumbled into dust on the marble slab.
“Have you been practising the techniques?” Yas asked, settling down on rug she had laid out on the cold floor.
“Yes, but all the images I’m getting are like two stories being told at the same time. They’re not making any sense,” Arr said taking her position on the floor.
“Don’t take it too hard, farsight is an advanced ability for the inner eye. You’re only accustomed to seeing auras, correct?” Yas said placing her hands on her thighs.
“And a wraith spoke to me some time ago,” she said as her shoulders slouched.
“How interesting…” Yas said running her fingers through her braid, “wraiths normally don’t make themselves so known to the living. Did you know them?”
“Nai,” Arrazanal sighed, rubbing her forehead as she watched Yas play with her soft and silky hair. Arr wanted to reach over and play with it too, but she had realised she had been quiet for too long. “I don’t see how this is relevant to farsight?”
“Technically it isn’t, but it does mean you’re sensitive to more than what you thought,” she said rubbing her chin.
“I’m not sensitive! I can handle whatever challenges befall me,” Arr said, slamming her fists on her knees.
“That’s not what I meant. Your higher self already knows the truth of where your sister is, but clearly something inside you is preventing you from seeing that,” Yas said.
“And what could that possibly be?” Arr said, biting her lip.
“I don’t know exactly, but I sense a deep loathing, an old hatred and anger that never seems to have healed. Do you know what I’m talking about?” Yas said as her white eyes stared blankly toward Arrazanal’s heart.
“Nai, I don’t,” she replied, biting her lip.
“Do you remember who you were before this life?” Yas inquired while her brow furrowed in curiosity.
“I think I remember some bits and pieces, but it’s so hard to know for sure. Druids always talk about reincarnation, but I have yet to meet someone who can remember that. Besides, I don’t see how my past lives affect my present,” Arr said, as she gnawed at her lip. Her mind flashed to the time when she encountered the strange female in the water-filled chamber. She remembered the female’s words: ‘succeed for both of us.’
“It affects us all the time in ways we cannot imagine. Our past is the guide for our future. Perhaps there’s some part of you that refuses to relive a great tragedy,” she said.
“What if I don’t like who I was? What if I was a monster?” Arr said. She stopped biting her lip as it had torn and swelled.
“Then don’t repeat those same choices, even if they feel right in those heated moments. You can choose better,” Yas said, rolling back with her arms behind her, “and considering how powerful your gifts are, you must’ve been something extraordinary in the past!”
Arrazanal scoffed. Her eyes rolled as she looked to the green notebook. “Do you remember who you were before?”
“I get glimpses now and then, nothing clear. Sometimes I get impressions of what it was like to have eyes,” she said as her fingers tapped silver pendant on her collarbone.
“How did you go blind?” Arr asked, watching Yas fiddle with the pendant before her eyes drifted to her white circles where coloured irises should be.
“My mother died giving me life, and in my father’s fit of grief, his energy blew through the room. Everyone in the room lost their sights for a few moments, but mine never returned. Since then, he has done everything in his power to protect me – even sent me here,” she said.
“My parents died when the Noszarel first attacked Nal’asha. My siblings and I were raised by everyone, but my brother has never been the same,” Arr said trying to mask her shaky voice.
“He hurts you, doesn’t he?” Yas said. Her pink lips were curving downwards.
Arrazanal wanted to say that Dathazanal is the only brother she had, it shouldn’t matter what he does, but instead, she nodded to Yasenanos’ question. She kept her silence for a moment as she uncrossed her legs and rose to her feet. “I’ll see if I can practice back at my inn.”
“Before you go, I want you to try this,” Yas said pulling out a red satin scarf from her waist and holding it up to Arr.
“What am I meant to do with that?” Arr asked accepting the scarf.
“If you wrap it around your eyes, it should make your inner eye work harder,” she said.
Arrazanal shrugged at the strange present and stuffed the scarf and notebook in her satchel. She glanced down to Yasenanos. At this point she considered her almost a friend, or at least she had hoped she was trustworthy.
“Do you need to be walked back to town?” Arr asked. A part of her wanted to spend a little more time with her.
Yas scoffed. “What, I look that helpless? The blind need constant help, do they?”
“Nai, nai, I just thought…” Arr said, but she said a grin spread across Yas’ face. “Bellemin I’aer, Yasenanos,” she said before turning out into the woods.
“I’ll be seeing you later, Arrazanal!” Yas called out.
Arrazanal rolled her eyes, still wearing a smile on her lips. The sky had turned into a stunning navy blue and stars had reappeared in the heavens marking the coming night. Strange magenta and violet clouds in a shape of ribbons crossed the sky; they still held the light from the setting sun, making them more noticeable with every step Arrazanal took. She watched in awe as the clouds danced in the winds, but they gradually disappeared behind the thicket of branches.
She stopped for a moment, unpacking the lovely scented scarf and tying it around her eyes. She was in complete darkness. Her head cocked up, and to her surprise, she saw the pink clouds forming from inside her mind. Arrazanal pulled the scarf down to her neck and opened her eyes; she was again greeted by the black coverage. By the time she reached the inn, the night had held dominance. The lights from buildings had illuminated her path. She pulled out Yas’s notebook. She contemplated writing to Kaitajinal, hoping to tell him that she hasn’t abandoned her homeland or her people and that she is trying, even an ocean away.
Suddenly, her senses spiked up. There was something amiss among the seemingly barren cliff and goose bumps grew on her skin. Arrazanal’s ears honed on the sea’s waves crashing in the distance, she was being watched by someone or something. Was she going mad? She wondered.
“Isanel and night’s greetings, Arrazanal,” a familiar haunting voice whispered from the high branches beside the inn.
She spun around to see Roshahnal jump down from the shadowed tree. He was covered in traditional Nalashi warrior garb, although it was a hint more sinister. Brown leather harness strapped his shoulders and torso. Loose grey leggings hung from his thick metal studded belt and protective sandals strapped his shins.
Arrazanal winced a displeased smile as she started at Rosh. “Night’s greetings, Rosh. What’s with the outfit?”
Roshahnal let out a cheeky laugh. “Well, we figured that if the Noszarel has guards around their hearth, then we should have some sort of protection around ours,” he said.
“We? How many of you are there?” Arr said, scanning the dark tree lines. She hoped to see an aura from one of his gang pals but somehow, they remained hidden.
“Many, but we can always use more to protect our little slice here,” he said, eyeing Arrazanal’s scarf.
“I’ve got to do some studying, thanks for the offer Rosh,” she said.
“You a druid neonate now?” he said but before she could utter a reply, one of his other friends leapt out from the same branch.
Arrazanal’s heart and mind raced, she flicked her eyes back and forth from Rosh and his companion. Both were wearing similar attire, but her eye also caught a sharp silver glimmer around the companion’s belt. She straightened her back, keeping her silence as she looked deep into Roshahnal’s eyes.
“There’s a lot to learn on Emasaran, you should try it, Rosh,” she said through tight lips.
“What’s that around your neck?” he demanded, inching closer to her, “it looks like something a Noszarel would wear.”
“It’s just a damned piece of cloth, it’s no threat,” Arr spat. She tried planting her feet firmly into the ground, until she felt the force from behind which knocked her to the ground. Her nose grazed against the stone floor, she rolled over to see the female of the group standing over her.
“What are you-,” she shouted as Rosh rushed over and pinned his knee into her stomach.
“Where’s your tiger now?” he hissed as his palm whacked her across the cheek. His hand travelled down to the scarf and ripped it off her neck. Arrazanal spat in Rosh’s face as she dug her nails into his muscled thigh.
“Stop!” boomed a voice; Arr spun her head around to see Larizinal standing beside the inn’s entrance with the eye sockets glowing a dangerous green.
Roshahnal immediately skipped off Arrazanal while the others had taken several steps back before splitting off into the darkness of the forest. Larizinal glided down the steps. Her eyes were growing a brighter light as she stared down at Roshahnal.
“One more from you and I’ll throw you in the ocean, and you can swim back to Perishi,” she said. Her quietened voice seething in rage.
Roshahnal scowled, he tossed the scarf to Arrazanal’s belly before slinking off to the inn, followed by his gang. Larizinal held out her wrinkled hand to Arrazanal, but instead, she snatched the scarf from her torso and scrambled to her feet. The old druid hadn’t moved her hand. Her palm was laid open as were her glowing green eyes.
“Where did you get the scarf, Arrazanal?” her flat tone was posed in an accusatory question.
“I found it,” Arr said keeping her voice from shaking.
“You cannot steal whatever you see fit, especially from the Noszarel. Give it to me, now!” Lari said, holding her arm out higher.
“I didn’t steal it!” Arr shouted back, turning beetroot red at the accusation as she gripped the red scarf in her fist.
“Then how did it come in your possession? And don’t lie, I will know,” she said.
“It…was a gift,” Arr said as tears flooded her eyes. Could she trust Larizinal about her secret friend or was she like all the others? She couldn’t bear it anymore; the island was testing her in ways she wasn’t ready for.
Lari’s face softened, her mouth opened ready to speak, but Arrazanal didn’t want to hear another word. She sprang past the druid and shoved her way through the wooden doors of the inn. She slipped the scarf in her tunic as she bolted through the warm halls, her nose whiffed at the cooked meals on the tables. Her feet continued their sprint until she finally reached the safety of her dorm room. Thankfully, she was alone.
Arrazanal tossed her satchel into her hammock, making the cloth bedrock, but her eye caught a usual fabric laid across it. She wandered over to see a folded navy robe with a piece of parchment sitting beside it.
For the druid-in-training – Larizinal.
She stared with mixed emotions at the trainee’s robe for uncounted moments. A gust of warm wind blew in the room; its curtains caressed her arm. Her eyes travelled out to the bare balcony. The wind chimes sang as she walked out to the sweetly scented air. She pulled out the scarf from her tunic and rubbed it in her hands. A soft knock came from the doorway. Her head spun around to see Larizinal standing in the door frame; her thin lips curved into a sad smile.
“Can I come in?” she said.
Arrazanal kept her silence and nodded at the druid’s request. She glided across the dorm and out to the balcony having her eyes locked onto what Arrazanal held in her hands.
“A bird told me that you’ve made an odd friend here,” she said softly.
“That bird’s awfully talkative,” Arr responded flatly, avoiding Lari’s gaze.
“I know things are tough and that having a friend can help in these trying times, but Arrazanal-,”
“Yes, I’m aware that they are our enemy, but where has the love gone for each other? Where have you been? What have you been trying to do about all of this?” Arr’s voice was on the verge of shouting, she didn’t care if she was rude or offensive to the druid.
“You have no idea what I’ve done!” Lari snapped, she sighed and swiped her long white hair from her face, “I’m sorry that I haven’t been there for you. After the loss of your sister, I wanted to be there for you. Please, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be-,”
“Things cannot be any worse than they are now. Rosh is one of many like him, bent on continuing the chaos and I don’t know why you’re talking to me and not him,” Arr said.
“He will get what’s coming, don’t fret. When you see that girl, just be careful,” she said.
“She’s not my enemy, Lari,” Arr said looking up at the old female.
“Of course, she isn’t, but everyone else I’m not too sure of.” The druid said before turning away and walking back into the dorm.
Arrazanal’s eyes followed her until she reached the doorway. “Thank you for the robe. Bellemin I’aer, Lari.”
Larizinal’s thin lips stretched into a smile, and her head gracefully bobbed before she glided out of the dorm room. Arrazanal looked down to the scarf. The wind had changed its direction out to sea. She lifted the cloth up and released it in the air. The scarf floated in the sky and danced on the wind before it disappeared into the dark ocean.
Inside the dorm, Arrazanal lifted the robe and slipped her slender arms through the holes before tying a navy sash around her waist. She now looked like a student instead of another displaced person from the war. She holstered herself into her hammock and pulled the lavender sheets over her chest and closed her eyes, trying to picture the face of her sister.
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