Fourteen #3
emanated from within the translucent walls. The path to the temple was lined with more towering glowing mushrooms and strung
with lines of colored lanterns leading to the temple steps, only adding to the surreal beauty of the surroundings.
Beneath the arched front doorway, a trio of jair’oa waited for us. I hadn’t noticed them at first, being nearly blinded by
the crystalline beauty of the temple. But as we reached the bottom of the steps, I glanced up and saw them peering down at
us. The jair’oa in front, a shriveled looking creature with thin, pure white fur, held a twisted staff made of colored glass
in her paws, a glowing ball at the tip. The white jair’oa also had milky red eyes that seemed to stare blankly through me,
though her huge ears twitched and moved with every sound. The other two jair’oa were gray-furred and didn’t seem quite as
old, though they were certainly far older than Meeka.
“Meeka.” One of the gray-furred jair’oa spoke. “You have brought the human creatures to the nest as we asked. Well done.”
He didn’t pause to acknowledge Meeka’s reply, but turned to me, dark eyes scanning my face.
“The stranger has appeared before us.” The second gray jair’oa nodded.
These jair’oa did not have the same fragmented speech cadence as Meeka.
It was easier to understand them; I wondered if it was an age thing or if they had more practice in speaking the human language.
“And the undead creature follows in her wake. It is a sign. A sign that the creator kings are returning. Praise to the creator king.”
At this, all three jair’oa lifted their paws toward the ceiling, the white jair’oa raising her staff so that the light from
the tip glimmered like a tiny star in the air. “Praise to the creator king,” all three repeated.
Kysa shifted behind me, and Rhyne gave an uneasy rumble. “Are you trying to bring back the Deathless?” she asked, and I heard
the stiffness in her voice. “Forgive me, I do not mean to disparage your customs or your people. But do you know what the
Deathless will do to the kingdom, if they rise again?”
The white jair’oa hopped forward and stared at us. “What you humans call Deathless, we jair’oa know as our creator king,”
she said in a breathy voice. She waved a pink, scabby paw at the pair of gray jair’oa behind her. “We are Rememberers. We
do not have to raise the creator king, we simply must remember his promise.”
“And what promise is that?” Raithe asked.
She twitched her whiskers at him. “Come inside the temple,” she said, and took a hopping step back. “We will speak there,
away from curious ears and chattering voices.”
I glanced at the archway, which was big enough for humans to walk through easily but might be a tight fit for something larger.
“What about the rock beetles?” I wondered, looking at Kysa.
Not that I was worried that Rhyne and Ratuk wouldn’t behave themselves while we were inside the jair’oa’s sacred glass temple, but one sweep from Rhyne’s horn would probably shatter the delicate looking walls.
Kysa’s lips tightened. “I would leave them both outside, were I not concerned about overly curious passengers,” she said,
casting a quick glance at the horde of jair’oa that had gathered behind us. I looked over the sea of shiny black eyes and
twitching noses and winced. “Rhyne and Ratuk are bred for war,” Kysa continued. “I fear they might break something were they
to follow us inside this beautiful temple.” She put a hand on Ratuk’s shell and nodded to me. “I will wait out here with them.
You go, learn what you must, Fateless. We will stay outside until you return.”
The white jair’oa bobbed her head. “Come, then,” she said, as the pair of gray jair’oa turned away. “Follow us. We will speak
inside. Youngling . . .” She pricked her ears at Meeka, still standing beside me and scrubbing his paws over his nose and
whiskers. “You brought the human creatures here. You will come as well.”
Meeka looked up and twitched his nose. “Meeka is hungry,” he said. “Blinking large grubs took much energy. Meeka already knows
this story. Will come later.”
“Now,” the white jair’oa said sternly, causing Meeka’s whiskers to droop. “You will hear the creator story again, youngling.
Just in case you have forgotten.” She glared at him until he flattened his ears and looked away, then waved a paw at me. “Come,
then. Come inside, and we will tell you of the creator king’s promise to the jair’oa.”
We followed the trio of jair’oa into the temple, which was even more delicate and stunningly beautiful inside. Pillars of colored glass soared above us, reflecting the lights of crystal chandeliers. Glass images curled from the walls, creating sparkling murals that defied belief.
At the front of the room, standing on a raised dais, a glass statue gazed down upon us. I studied the near-perfect features,
the broad shoulders and chiseled face, and shivered. This had to be the jair’oa’s Deathless, their creator king. But the statue
wasn’t looming ominously or gazing imperiously upon its servants; rather, it showed the Deathless King with his arm outstretched,
gazing at a jair’oa in his open palm. Jair’oa and Deathless were looking at each other, and even though the king wasn’t smiling,
I could see genuine affection in that chiseled face.
The three jair’oa paused at the foot of the statue, standing tall on their hind legs and raising their paws. Meeka, too, stood
up and stretched his limbs toward the statue’s face, his tail held out behind him for balance.
“Praise to the creator king,” murmured the white jair’oa, and the gray jair’oa echoed her words. “We remember. We keep his
memories safe until his return. Return quickly, O king, for your jair’oa wait for you. We remember.”
I shared an uneasy glance with Raithe and Halek. Halek looked vaguely amused, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched the
jair’oa, but Raithe’s expression was shadowed.
The white jair’oa turned and sat back on her haunches, staring up at us with beady crimson eyes.
“This is the tale of the creator king and his promise to the jair’oa,” she began without preamble.
“Many cycles ago, when the world was young, the creator king yearned for a creature he could love. He had his servants—the creatures called humans—and they worshipped him as their god. But he wanted something more. And so he created the first jair’oa, bestowing upon them his own power, granting them the gift of small magics.
But because all magic requires life, he also created the star grubs for them to consume so that they could access the power of the king.
These first jair’oa had no responsibilities, they were not created to serve or be servants; they were his Favored children, his beloved creations.
And any who raised a hand against them would suffer the full wrath of the king. ”
Halek was nodding at this part of the story, and he gave me a look that said, See? Even the Deathless Kings were crazy about their pets.
“Those first jair’oa, our ancestors, lived with the creator king and multiplied,” the white jair’oa continued. “For many cycles,
jair’oa were born, lived with the creator king, raised their own families, and returned to dust when their cycle was done.
And the creator king was happy, because he finally had a people that he could love unconditionally. Never once did he raise
a hand to his Favored. Never did a single jair’oa suffer or die at the hand of the king. They lived, and thrived, within the
kingdom. And as the cycles went on, they became powerful in their own right, learning to use the magic that the creator king
had gifted them.
“But then, many cycles and countless generations later, darkness fell upon the creator king’s empire.
We jair’oa had never seen another Deathless before—we thought that our creator king was the only one.
But whispers began to circulate of a war between the Deathless, beyond the borders of the kingdom, creeping ever closer.
Our ancestors watched, not understanding, as the skies turned red, then black with smoke, and the world began to burn.
The green plains of the kingdom turned to dust and sand.
The land that the creator king had ruled over for thousands of years was consumed in flame.
“In desperation to save us, his Favored children, the creator king used the last of his power to construct a safe haven deep
underground. Even as the ancient city was swallowed by ash and fire, he melted the sands to create the great dome overhead,
shielding his Favored from the death and chaos outside. He constructed the temple we are standing in now, as a reminder not
to forget him. And then he used his own life force to infuse the lake in the center of the nest with magic, so that the star
grubs the jair’oa consume would continue to fuel their power.”
The white jair’oa paused, leaning heavily on her staff, as if relaying this story exhausted her. “And then,” she continued
after a few heartbeats, “after doing this final act for his Favored, the creator king faded away, his soul sinking into the
waters of the lake. But before he left, he told our ancestors that they were not to forget him. He promised that if we kept
his memories and customs alive, one day he would return and rule over the kingdom as he had in the ancient days.”
Once more, the white jair’oa paused, ears drooping, and one of the gray jair’oa stepped forward.
“We do not forget the promise of the creator king,” he said.
“Jair’oa memories are short. With younglings especially, their attention is focused on the Now.
They live their lives in the moment, with little thought to the Then.
Each day, we Rememberers recite the story of the creator king to the colony.
Each day, we remind the nest of the promise of the creator king.
Without us, we fear that the memory of the creator king would fade from the minds of the jair’oa and be forgotten. ”