The next leg of Alptraum's journey takes place on a trans-oceanic liner known as the Princess of Stygia – a name that is an allusion to myths of an underwater faerie kingdom populated by creatures sporting features of a variety of different species … though the emphasis on which species most defines their characteristics varies greatly depending upon the aesthetic requirements of the species of the storyteller.
In this case, it appears that the ship's designers have chosen a more egalitarian approach, given that statues and reliefs of "Stygianites" are to be found throughout the ship, and none looks much like the other – here a Stygianite looks rather like tales of the "mercat" Abyssinians; there, a Stygianite looks not far removed from a Bromthen "sea serpent" Naga; and yet in another place, a Stygianite is an anthropomorphic fish of some sort, exotic and more than a little disturbing. The "theme" of the ship's decor would be that the passenger is encouraged to imagine that the furnishings were dredged up from a sunken city of old, and that some of the more extravagantly decorated chambers of the ship could well belong in that city, pulled up in toto from the deep.
It's a large ship, with a large crew, and steam-powered engines to shove the vessel across the ocean. Steam engines have a reputation for breaking down frequently, though if that is happening, the crew is doing a laudable job of covering it up with various excuses for why the ship goes dead in the water so frequently: a stop to watch for a school of diamondfish, or a shipside performance by some otter-like Akwavi entertainers from the Seaborne Reach. The muffled "boom" that often comes before one of these stops is a hint that these aren't exactly scheduled (if anticipated) distractions.
Of the passengers, the most-represented species would be those of pure-bred Gallees (whether from Gallis or Rephidim), colorful peacock-like Kujakus, and wealthy merchant Khattas (whose harems occupy many rooms and never leave them without all-obscuring veils), but there are a great many other species to be found as well, enough of a variety that an Eeee does not seem an oddity. Savanites are not unusual, but if there are any freed cheetah-people, they are not to be found on this ship, with the exception of Autumn-Storm … and she keeps such a low profile that one might simply assume her to be Alptraum's personal servant.
However Nekara managed to arrange for passage on this ship, Alptraum has gotten the impression that it involved some sort of calling in of favors and pulling of strings, not a simple matter of coming up with the required cash. With some of her remaining funds, Nekara got Alptraum a few changes of clothes, so that he would not look the part of a pauper, but advised him not to mingle overly much … particularly not to let slip that he might be from Sylvania. Passage on the ship apparently has not included all the amenities, as the nightly dinners and dances have been off limits – but just as well, what with Alptraum's "unique dietary needs," and the desire to keep a low profile.
No more bizarre dreams have plagued Alptraum – or, that is, he may have disturbing dreams inspired by the troubles he's been through, but none that strike him as prophetic or divinely (or infernally) inspired. When the Sea of Souls comes up in his dreams, it is only as part of an ordinary nightmare … and in the "mere dream" version of the Sea of Souls, he hasn't nearly the amount of control he enjoyed before. Despite it all, these are perhaps the most comfortable accommodations he's ever had, if not the most familiar. One advantage of being stuck on this ship with Nekara, though, is that, when he's not brushing up on Babelite lore and the finer points of the Babelite tongue, he has plenty of opportunity to shower her with questions – and repeat them later, if some distraction pops up to deny him an answer.
Alptraum taps his clawtips on the armrest of the cabin chair he's sittingin. "Okay, please bear with me on this as I try to explain," he tellsNekara.
Nekara, swathed in robes not entirely unlike those worn by the Khattan women Alptraum has seen (only briefly) on the ship, just silently nods as she sits back on the couch, gazing out the porthole at the stars.
"Back when I was still living with the gypsies, I ended up goingto one of our newest members, a strange Korv called Madame Xanadu,"Alptraum relates. "She claimed to be a fortune teller and I figured it at least be amusing to see what she said. She had already talked to my friend Hexen and got him all excited, so my curiosity was piqued anyway."
Nekara says, "I have little faith in Sylvanian fortune tellers. Vague blessings or grim curses are all they are likely to offer."
Alptraum continues, "Well, what she told me was grim – realgrim. But at the time I thought little of it because I just didn't believein such nonsense. But, after my experiences with Sunala's realm and whatI've learned from you, I've started to rethink it a bit. You had mentionedto me that I was sent away because of some danger that I faced in Babel."
Nekara only nods to show she's still listening.
"I think something Xanadu told me might tie in and I wonder if you perhapshave some insight on it," Alptraum explains. "She said she saw in my past a calculating, cunning, man – dangerous, mysterious. Other things followed that statement, such as the symbol of the High Priestess, which may or may not represent Sunala, or perhaps the Srinala that was rescued. There was a bit about being tempted with material gain or power. That could have been the cheetah priestess, I suppose, since you didn't offer me any ofthose things to come with you. Anyway, back to what I was saying. Did thedanger I face back in Babel revolve around a person in particular? Do youknow? Or is all of this probably just nonsense?"
"Probably just nonsense," Nekara says. "But if I were to take it seriously, there could be any number of men who could have posed a threat to you. Perhaps a sorcerer with designs on using you for an infernal experiment … perhaps a sham prophet aiming to prop you up as a fulfilment of some obscure prophesy and to bring recognition to his own cult … perhaps a follower of one of the other Sisters, aiming to do nothing more complicated than to hold you hostage, to manipulate the Yodhsunala into doing his bidding."
Alptraum quiets as he hears this, then adds in, "And if you'd like me tobetter describe all that she said, I could try. Not quite sure how much Iremember of it word for word, though."
"If you cannot remember it word for word," Nekara says, "then even the best prophetess could not hope to give you an accurate interpretation. The truest prophesies are simple, often in rhyme or song, or following some other pattern, so that the recipient may easily keep them at heart for when they are needed. If you cannot even remember the details of this prophesy, I truly doubt it was divinely inspired."
The bat priestess turns to look at Alptraum. "You have been taken from a mundane life and thrust into one where you have been surrounded by vague hints of the supernatural. It is tempting to latch onto the utterings of every mad man as prophesy from the gods … to look at every omen as a sign of what will come next. It is true that all things are connected, and that the realm of the supernatural is not some separate entity, but intertwined with the material … but this does not mean that you can impose meaning upon chaos and expect to gain any wisdom from it. Sometimes … a riddle … is only nonsense.
"Fortune tellers toss out random predictions – Often, nothing comes of them, but sometimes a gullible soul thinks the prediction came true, and is willing to forgive a few inaccuracies for the sake of the 'greater truth.' And when that one true believer comes back, the fortune teller raises his rates, or has the perfect talisman to ward off that deadly curse – for only a silver or a gold shekel, or some other 'paltry sum.' Fortunes like that are seeds cast into the field, in the hopes that a few will spring up – and earn the charlatan his bread."
And that's when there's an explosion in the boiler room, and the ship starts to slow in the water. So, at this time of night, what might the excuse be now… ?
"I have a few other questions," Alptraum says, "first off, starting with what happens when we arrive. Will we be meeting with anyone? Will there be any sort of special ritual? Where will I stay there?"
Nekara says, "I honestly do not know what will happen when we arrive, beyond the matter of my duty. When we arrive on the land of Ur, I expect to be given further instructions by one of my sisters. As for what will become of you, I imagine that you will be taken to the Temple on Mount Sunala. It is the safest place for you, whether your arrival will be in secret or publicly proclaimed. There may well be a parade thrown in your honor … or you might be brought in under shadow of night. I'll advise my sisters against any banquets."
Alptraum says, "Well, what about customs of the family? Can you brief me on them? I don't want to offend anyone; I know I have often enough with you, and I'd like to stop doing that."
"Customs? First of all, do not make any great assumptions about your position or any authority or respect that might be due you. The sisterhood of Sunala, as you have no doubt guessed by now, is primarily a matriarchy. Be on your best behavior, don't wear down anyone's patience with questions unless you're invited to ask them, and," Nekara says, turning to look directly at Alptraum now, "for our Lady's sake, do not freely blather about your adventures in the Sea of Souls, or your dietary peculiarities, or even the fact that you came from Sylvania and were raised by gypsies. If you are asked questions, by all means, answer, but be careful with your words. This is a fragile time; I have had enough difficulty reconciling your existence, and this with a mission from Sunala Herself to find you. How much more so my sisters might be made uneasy by your presence and the details of your story."
"As for customs, you should not find so many of them alien. In Babel, standards of personal modesty are somewhat less stringent than in many cultures, simply because of Eeee physiques are more … shall we say … streamlined than most Sinai species, save of course for the Nagai and their kin. But that does not hold true in the Temple of Sunala – there, you will likely be assigned what to wear, and it will be very conservative. To follow Sunala is to practice restraint, not to try to provoke the senses – that would be the domain of Inala instead," Nekara explains. "Do not be surprised if most every Eeee you meet there has black fur and white hair: a great many Yodhsunala are brought into the priesthood because of that coloration, or they inherit by being born into our family. As for the rest, there is magic, or there is dye and bleach.
"If you encounter someone who has the coloration of Sunala, but has no pupils, do not assume that you have encountered Sunala incarnate. This phenomenon is not unknown – such a child born is referred to as a sunala; the inflection here is very subtle, and it is an embarrassment or worse to call her 'Sunala' instead. She is born with the likeness of Sunala, and such a birth is considered a blessing to the place in which she is born. Rarely are they brought to the Temple of Sunala, unless they were born in Babel itself. They are born blind, and incapable of flight.
"A srinala also bears the likeness of Sunala, but never fully enters the realm of the living. A srinala forever sleeps, on the edge between the living and the dead, and without special care and Sunala's blessings, will not live past childhood. Certain rituals allow the srinala to act as a speaker for the dead, her mouth being used to form the words of departed spirits who have messages for those still living. But for a srinala to get up and walk about – that is unheard of. That is why Srinala is so important, if indeed she is such a person.
"You may notice the phenomenon of the shredded wings. It is expected that a Yodhsunala will not die due to old age or disease. Woe is the Yodhsunala who dies by some accident; it would be better that she had died by her own hand, or that of another. So it is that you will rarely see a Yodhsunala who is old, for with age increases the chance that some crippling ailment or mishap will bring one's fate, and with the onset of signs of age, only the most powerful Yodhsunala – who are especially full of Sunala's power – will not hasten their own end immediately. There are many ways to end one's own life, all of them acceptable, but the most honored is to mark one's wings as Sunala's are, and to leap from the highest tower. It is believed that while one's body is crushed against the ground below, one's spirit flies on directly to the realm of the Sisters. There are some who teach that the Yodhsunala do not go to the Sea of Souls, but rather serve at Sunala's temple until the End of Time.
"It is also expected that a dishonored Yodhsunala, one who has committed an unforgiveable transgression or failure in the service of the Lady, will be gone from this life quickly, so that she can fail no more. If she is resistant, then it will be at the hand of another. If she is repentant, then she shall be granted the dignity of death at her own hands; death by flying to the next realm is most common in this case, for it is believed that if a Yodhsunala is wrongfully accused, Sunala may see fit to miraculously spare her life, and even though she falls a great distance with wings that will not hold her, still Sunala keeps the sister's spirit within her body. If that should happen, all manner of healing will be used to restore her, and her honor shall be restored as well.
"Another tradition applies to all of the Seven: on each of the mountains, there is a path that winds up, flanked by boundaries so that the careless or unknowing cannot claim ignorance if they step off the path. When someone refers to "Mount Sunala," he is referring to the area encompassing the peak, the sacred area reserved to the priestesses, and the path begins at the edge of this area. Beyond that, the land is not sacred, and there are many towers and houses spilling out of the valley to be found beneath this line. Do not worry: the borders are clearly marked.
"To approach the temples, however, the penitent must walk, not fly. To fly to the temple, or to deviate from the path is to invite the wrath of the Sister whose temple it is, and the guardians of the temple are tasked with striking down the offender immediately. The punishment is death, whether the offender is man, woman or child. For that reason, those penitents who come to the temples and who dare to bring their children along often bind their wings to prevent this possibility, should the child be scared, and keep them on a tether, so that they do not wander.
"There are exceptions to this rule: the children of the Sisters may freely fly to and from the temples, though there are occasionally restrictions on this on certain holy days. There is also an exception granted to airships, soldiers and war beasts that are charged with the defense of Babel: they are granted special privileges so as not to interfere with their duties, to pass over the mountains, or to land specifically on the business of the Yodh. Yodh of sufficiently high rank may guide fliers with them to the temple, under their protection – but it is not wise to simply fly to the temple with permission by word from a Yodh: the watchers, unless told to recognize you, may strike you down, and even if given instructions, are not beyond the occasional … mistake. And lastly, the Sabaoth himself was treated as if he were a high-ranking priest, because of his symbolic position as high priest of all religions of Babel; after him, this authority passed on to Boghaz, then to Saraizadze, but until the Yodh recognize a new ruler of Babel, this exception is moot.
"The Yodhsunala and indeed all Babelites consider the dead to be sacred; tombs are not to be desecrated, and bodies are to be buried intact, not burned on pyres as is the tradition in Sylvania. I understand the reason for this practice, given the horrors of necromancy there, but even that is no excuse. The most observant homes build and maintain a House of the Dead near their own, where shrines for deceased family members accompany their tombs, and gifts and prayers may be left for them. To steal from these shrines – whether to buy bread for starving children, or for the sake of 'archaeology' – the punishment is death. To deface a dead body is likewise unacceptable. There are all manner of exceptions, such as in the case of criminals who have forfeited their right to an honorable death, or special dispensations granted by the Yodhsunala, but to understand all those is to study the fine points of the law.
"To steal from the Yodh or the temple is likewise an offense punishable by death – except, perhaps in the case of Blakat or Barada. For them, if you can get away with stealing from their temples, they have their own peculiar values, and might not hunt you down for it. It is, however, not to be counted on.
"It is also a sin to steal from Sunala – and this is one of the most debated rules of all. If someone wishes to commit suicide, it is a sin to try to prevent the act – though the punishment is not so severe as it used to be. The most strict adherrents of this belief go so far as to believe that any act to prevent death whatsoever is in violation of Sunala's rule, but those belong to sects far removed from Babel – and, quite frankly, these movements eventually die out as the ultimate sign of their devotion, since they also think that to create life – to add a new generation to the Eeee – is just as much a sin.
"But stealing from Sunala by means of necromancy – that is unquestionably the most perverse affront to Sunala that could ever be committed. Necromancy is punishable by swift death – anyone who practices the art, or who attempts to do so, or who assists in the practice of it. And, of course, the undead creature itself is to be terminated with extreme prejudice.
"It is also a sin to speak of Rinala – and if you remember well my lessons to you, 'rinala' is a word that is often badly translated to other languages as 'life.' Rinala encompasses not only life itself, but the power of life, perpetual life, life that knows no death. It is a myth, something totally apart from the reality of death, for there can be no life without the knowledge every life, every story, every existence has a beginning and an end. But Rinala was one of the old goddesses, and I have told you some of the stories about her; some believe that Rinala was Sunala before she broke free from Bael.
"Some believe that Rinala is only a blasphemy that has no reality at all. Whatever the case, there is no Rinala. There are some cults that, despite our best efforts, have sprung up around the worship of Rinala, and they are crushed whenever they grow too bold and advertise their presence too loudly. Do not speak of her, do not ask about her, do not acknowledge the name. I have told you this only so that, should you hear some fool utter the name, you will not unknowingly repeat it in unfriendly company.
"It is also a sin to make blasphemous lies about Sunala. You have heard many tales I have told you of the Seven Sisters. You may, having a rational mind, suppose that they cannot all possibly be true. They are, and they are not. The spiritual world is different from the physical world. Time does not pass there as it does here, and cause and effect are not so clearly related. Death is but an inconvenience to a deity, and so when you hear tales of the Sisters dying at each other's hands, do not be surprised when they return the favor next time. But that does not apply to Sunala. Sunala is death, and she alone does not die. Many tales are tolerated that the people make up on their own and pass off as holy tales, but if anyone should deign to tell a tale wherein Sunala dies, his own life is forfeit. It is not even to be joked about.
"There is another place you must be warned of, too – the Wound. This is the hole torn out of the heart of Babel by the Boomer. There are piles of rubble and pieces of buildings that still stand there, and the Yodhrephath have made it their responsibility to patrol the Wound and deal with any trespassers they find there, who might be defiling the Wound and searching for 'loot.' Any trespasser is in danger of being slain on the spot, without any questions asked. There is a monument on the side, where the faithful may come to pay respects to those killed by the Boomer, but visitors are careful not to fly over the Wound itself. Until the Yodhrephath are satisfied that recompense has been made, any trespass is an affront against the dead as well as the living of Babel, and nothing will be excavated or repaired or built again. When you see it, you will know it – no one has any excuse that they flew over the Wound unknowingly.
"As for matters of address, the proper title for any Yodhsunala is that; when in the presence of others in Babel, you should address me as 'Yodhsunala Nekara.' If you did not know my name, it would just be 'Yodhsunala.' If you do not even know what Sister the priestess serves, then 'Yodh' will suffice. In another tongue, you may either use the word as a title, or you may call me 'Nekara, Daughter of Sunala.' To skip formality and just call me Nekara would be a great trespass. There are also men in the service of the temple – they are Children of Sunala, 'Baosunala,' but do not call them sons of Sunala, or 'Barsunala.' I do not know what title you are worthy of, so for now, do not expect that you deserve one. That will be decided by one of my superior sisters, if such a thing should be.
"And, it is considered a bad thing to joke about impending death. You might tempt one of the Sisters to make your joke come true… "
And so Nekara's lessons in proper protocol among the Yodh continue on, and she even gets into some more tales of the Sisters. They aren't very pleasant. The antics of the Sisters at times seem like spoiled children, as least in terms of their level of maturity, though the level of cruelty of the fates they impose on each other, on each others' favored mortals, and at times even on their own "favored" mortals makes it very clear that these stories are not for children. Nekara makes it clear that she is skimming over some parts of some tales, particularly those featuring Inala, for it seems that the writers of these tales delight in showing how these goddesses know no limit to what debauchery they might participate in.
Even if Sunala herself cannot die, quite often those that she has put under her protection nonetheless meet a premature death due to the machinations of another deity. Sunala may get revenge, but that is surely no great comfort to the mortal concerned. If there's any great weakness of Sunala, however, Alptraum is able to discern that it seems to be pride more than anything else. Many a mortal – or rival deity – gets Sunala's attention by well-placed flattery, or by an affront to her pride. (In either case, it tends to turn out for the worst, however, so it certainly shouldn't be a sure-fire means recipe for success in any endeavor.)
For Inala, it has to be her insatiable lust, and a drive on her part, it seems to find some new experience, some new low to stoop to, for a cheap thrill. Blakat seems driven always by envy of what others have, whether deity or mortal, and a desire to take the object of her desire – even if it means destroying the object in the process. Gorphat, if anything, is lazy – a trait that seems to assure her never to have a starring role in any of these tales, since she's simply too boring (even if she's horrible).
Zakaro is a glutton – for arcane power, mostly, for it seems that there are even powers beyond what the deities already wield, but she also has a weakness for food and drink. Rephath is driven by wrath, obsessed with revenge. And Barada's flaw most certainly has to be pure greed, whether for new secrets to hoard, or material wealth to flaunt.
There are hints that there are other, lesser deities, and that perhaps some of these might even be male, but it's unclear whether they're truly other "gods" or "goddesses," or whether they're perhaps merely "spirits." Within Babelite myth, however, that may be a very fine distinction.
The stories are inconsistent about a great many things. In some tales, the Sisters don't seem beholden to normal mortal concerns, capable of visiting the bottom of the ocean, the fiery depths of the earth, the afterlife, or any place in the real world at whim. In others, they seem to be more mortal, capable of death by suffocation or poisoning or a stab in the back, among other things.
Eventually, though, the baton passes to Alptraum again…
"Would you be willing to be my mentor?" Alptraum asks after yet another bout of briefing on the intricacies of Babelite lore and etiquette. "I feel I'll needsomeone helping me along with this. After that problem in Safar, I now realizeyou were absolutely right; I cannot hide from what I am. I'm marked, and evenif I fled, I'd never be safe. Someone will always know what I am, so Imight as well accept it and learn."
Nekara smiles faintly, but then shakes her head, looking out the window at the reddening sky, as the stars start to wink out, and the sun sets the sky afire in the east with a new dawn. "No, my brother. Once you have been brought back to Babel, my duty is finished. I may well be sent out on another mission, for my success in this one would just show that I am best suited for such things. I am certain that you will be entrusted to someone far more knowledgeable than I – and higher-ranking within the Sisterhood. I am doing what I can to teach you, for your sake, but even this will not be enough. I will be very curious, yes, to find out how you fare, but I will find out in due time. Your arrival will cause difficulties, I know, but I suspect you are destined for a position of great honor – perhaps even power. You will have many things to concern you, and you will find that you have a much larger family – I am not your only sister, merely because I came to you first, after all.
"But … we can discuss that more later. I did not realize I had kept you up so late. You should get your rest now. Good night, my brother."
"Avralie," Alptraum replies, looking decidedly uneasy but not wanting topress with any further questions just yet. He gets up and heads over tothe door. Without a word, he opens it and steps into the hallway. Thedoor starts to close, then stops for a moment as Alptraum looks back insideat his sister, Nekara. His expression holds steady, masking the concern – and honest fear he now feels more than ever.
The door shuts, and he heads back to his room. Wordlessly, he gets readyfor bed, neatly setting his clothing in a pile to the side. The Eeee slipsinto the bed and wraps his wings around himself to protect them as hesleeps. Unfortunately, sleep just doesn't come easy for him; he sits upfor many more hours, silver eyes staring at the ceiling. "Why do I feel Ihave to go? What kind of family is this, really? So, my mother was one ofthem; hard to imagine that people like that could know or feel love.Would I have even mattered if I wasn't sent away? Do I really matter now?Are they any left that might remember me? If there are, would I rememberthem? I remember voices from my past; will they finally have a face?"Alptraum mulls over quietly. But at long last, sleep overcomes him and hiseyes flutter shut, finding a moment of peace as thoughts give way to thecomfort of rest.
