CHAPTER 18
I approached my first session with the protocol instructor with some trepidation.
I never went to cotillion, but I suspected it felt very similar.
Fortunately, Camavel had already instructed me in many of the initial greetings and niceties that my new teacher went over during the first hour.
I would be sure to tell her when I returned home.
She would be pleased to know that the fussy instructor could find no fault with me during this initial visit.
The instructor, Finetta, was a rather stiff female Ptexari and was visibly upset by M’Pak’s presence.
She told me several times how pleasing she found my voice and wanted to know if the fabled Lumanela were going to return.
“I have been asked several times if I am a Lumanela, but I’m just a human from Earth,” I told her. “Can you tell me about the Lumanela? Why do people call me that?”
“The Lumanela are one of our oldest legends. Make yourself comfortable on the cushion, and I shall tell you their tale,” she said. We settled ourselves, and she began…
…
In the beforetimes, Aericar the Sun lived in the sky with Collel the moon and her two sister moons, Chanika and Bocani.
And it came to pass that Aericar and Collel fell in love and had many children, called the Lumanela.
They had hair of fiery gold, like their father.
Skin as pale as moonlight, and eyes the color of the sky.
They were delicate, graceful beings who carried the music of the cosmos through their veins as part of their celestial heritage.
The Lumanela grew tired of the cold blankness of space, so their parents created the planet Ptekennan for them.
The Lumanela came to dwell there and delighted in their new home.
They harmed no creature, but instead ate only plants.
By day they created art and built villages through their craftsmanship to honor their father, and at night they sang songs to their mother and her sisters.
For many generations, the Lumanela dwelled in peace in the Sinaloni forest. In time, the planet became home to many of the other gods’ children, including the Ptexari, who were the children of the mountain god Otaki.
The Ptexari were dark gray, like their father, and were gifted with wings to reach his peaks.
Many of the Ptexari tribes fought each other for territory, but the Lumanela had no interest in their disputes and generally hid from them.
But when winter came, they felt sorry for the freezing Ptexari, and gifted them with fire they had inherited from the Sun, their father.
For this, the Lumanela were welcomed among all the Ptexari and were treated with great respect and reverence.
Otaki himself was pleased, for the Lumanela had ensured the survival of his children, and declared the Lumanela and their forest to be under his protection.
Many years later, one of the Lumanela females fell in love with a Ptexari male and moved to the Ptexari village.
She was a gentle soul and well-loved by all the Ptexari villagers.
During the day, she grew vegetables in the garden, which was blessed by her Sun-father, and at night, she sat outside to braid her hair, singing to Collel and her sisters as her fingers wove through her golden strands.
The villagers had discovered that the magic of the cosmos could be heard in the Lumanela’s voice.
When she spoke, the Ptexari could feel the magic skate across their skin.
They would shiver at its resonance. But when she sang, they were completely entranced.
The happiness she radiated through her songs permeated every cell, and they were paralyzed in bliss - frozen in such contentment that they saw and heard nothing else.
At night, the Ptexari would gather outside the Lumanela’s home to hear her sing.
The Ptexari had no music themselves. They could keep tempo on a drum and learned to play simple flutes, but their voices did not work in the same way, and singing was not an ability they possessed.
Enchanted, they would quietly and respectfully gather and listen to the Lumanela’s nightly aubade, frozen in worshipful euphoria until the last notes faded.
And so it continued for many years, and the Lumanela was cherished by the village.
One evening, a Ptexari from a neighboring tribe was visiting and saw the Ptexari gather outside the Lumanela’s home.
He was transfixed, as they were, during her song, but found the inability to move as she sang a bit unnerving.
When he returned home, he described what he saw and heard.
The chieftain of the tribe questioned him and thought on how to use this knowledge.
For many years, the two tribes had fought over the kovak grazing between their lands, and he conjured a plan to eliminate his rivals.
The next day, warriors from the neighboring tribe stuffed bits of fabric in their ears and made their way silently to the village.
They hid outside the village until the Sun went down and the moons began their ascent.
When the Lumanela began to sing, the Ptexari villagers were entranced, seeing and hearing nothing but the sweet notes as they rose to the stars.
At that moment, the neighboring warriors struck, slaughtering the entire frozen village. The Lumanela screamed, but it was too late. The villagers were dead. In their blood lust, and to prevent her from bewitching them, the warriors struck down the weaponless Lumanela herself.
At this, the gods balked. The Lumanela were the children of Sun and Moon, and protected by the Mountain.
Collel appealed to her husband Aericar and her nephew Otaki for revenge for her many-times-removed daughter.
The Sun and the Mountain joined forces. Otaki exploded, and a river of fire rolled down his side to destroy all the Ptexari villages in his domain.
A few of the Ptexari who were not part of the warrior tribe were able to flee to a new continent and rebuild away from the watchful eye of their Mountain Father.
They made offerings to the Sun and the Moons on behalf of their people and to atone for the loss of their daughter.
The gods recognized that they were not part of the group that struck the Lumanela and left them in peace.
They agreed not to harm the remaining Ptexari, but they would no longer favor them or other peoples of Ptekennan with their gifts either, so they withdrew to the sky and largely left the planet alone.
The Lumanela grieved their lost sister, and their lament could be felt by all the beings of Ptekennan.
Ultimately, they did not wish for their gift to ever be used in such a way again.
Shortly thereafter, the Lumanela left this world to live out in the cosmos, and all the stars and planets dance to their music even to this day.
…
I sat in silence for a while as I contemplated the tale of the Lumanela.
I could understand why the Ptexari called me that.
I did resemble their tales. I did love to sing, although they didn’t know that, but many of them commented that they could somehow “feel” my voice when I spoke.
I wondered if humans had somehow lived here long ago, but couldn’t comprehend how that would at all be possible.
Finetta pulled up some drawings and paintings on the comms panel of Lumanela.
They were evidently a popular subject for artists over the centuries.
Many of them looked surprisingly human… always blonde and blue-eyed, though.
I wondered what they would have thought of me if I had brown or black hair.
It was a strange coincidence that I perfectly matched their stories.
Andokar came to get me after our session, and I asked if we could walk back to the village.
I knew it would take a half hour or so to get back, but I wanted to get a feel for the city, and I knew Andokar could fly back fairly quickly from the village.
He agreed, so M’Pak and I followed him out the palace gates.