Luc entered the great hall where Raoul was waiting for him. The day was clear and hot on the Island. The room was full of tables and shelves, which housed old books, lots of yellowed papers and curious objects that Luc didn't know what they were for. Three windows were open to show the sea and white curtains swayed in the breeze. A large white leather sofa was arranged in front of the central opening. It was where Raoul used to sit to read his mail or when he wanted to have a casual conversation. However, he was not there.

Whenever they returned from a mission, it was their duty to report to the Qayid, the Island leader. In theory, Raoul was not the Qayid. The Qayid was always the same: the Island. Raoul had been for many years the most powerful haya on the Island. Currently, he was the wisest. He had more knowledge of the Island's missions than anyone else, he was aware of the predictions, and he knew how they could win the great war to come. As one could not speak to the Island, a representative was chosen to be the Qayid. Therefore, Luc was obliged to report to him.

However, Island lore dictated that another haya should be chosen when the power of the current Qayid diminished. According to custom, Raoul should pass the responsibility on to whoever surpassed him. He was old and his energy dropped with each passing year. At least three hayas on the Island could become more powerful than Raoul. According to tradition, one of them would be chosen the Qayid. But it wouldn't necessarily be the strongest. Often, the amount of energy a Haya controlled was not enough to make him able to lead the Island.

- I am here.

The voice came from the left corner of the hall, where a small doorway led into a private room. Raoul was behind a large dark mahogany desk, leaning back in a worn leather chair, a stack of letters in front of him. His appearance was tired and large purple bags spilled under his eyes.

- Qayid.

- Luc. Sit down - he said, indicating another chair in front of the table.

Luc sat down. Previously, Raoul would have invited him to sit on the couch and he would have shared the highlights of the mission while sharing a drink. But now Luc was welcomed into the small meeting room. He should talk about the trip and leave.

- Something to report? - Raoul asked without taking his eyes off a long yellowed letter that contained the Hiwot symbol.

- Nothing that hasn't happened before. The border is secure, as requested. We left infiltrators committed to passing information every month. Every instability was contained. I will give more details at the Council if you prefer.

- Excellent. Luckily, the next Council is in three days. I will decide on your next mission after this meeting. You are dismissed.

Not a look at him. Luc felt his face burn with anger. He was not going to leave without saying what he had planned.

- Qayid. I wish to be sent to Shailaja.

- No need - Raoul replied, still not taking his eyes off the letter.

- I wish Mani to return to the Island.

- The mission in Shailaja was decided in Council. Your will is not part of the goals we intend to achieve here - Raoul replied. His tone of voice was now hostile.

- Mani is in danger in Shailaja, Qayid.

- Mani is there to protect the heir. The risks are small next to the gains. She is as safe as she would be here.

- I don't agree with that view, Qayid.

Finally, Yezekael lowered the letter and pressed his glasses to his face.

- Luc. The plan is underway. Hannah is there. I can't do anything.

- How not? Bring her back. Christine is there! That's enough. As a member of the Council, I think I should have had the option to vote at least.

- Your vote wouldn't make a difference - Luc could feel his blood starting to boil as Raoul added: - Just like mine didn't.

- What are you saying?

- I know you intend to blame me for your revolt, but that plan was not devised by my ghaya.

- So who did it?

Everything on the island was discussed and voted on the Council. Each haya had its ghaya, who interpreted the predictions. Together they discussed the best ways to reach Alnajm, their ultimate goal. Once the best path was found, they presented it to the Council. Hayas, those who could control their energy; ghayas, those who had the vision; alnnasihs, the masters; and the Qayid were part of the Council and voted.

- Does it matter, Luc? You know I cannot interrupt an ongoing path. The ghaya who saw this path will not be able to determine the consequences if you made an intervention.

Raoul's argument was valid, but Luc wanted to see the end of the matter. Taking a deep breath, he asked again, enunciating each word slowly.

- Qayid, who saw this path?

Raoul sighed wearily. Luc would know anyway. He decided to stop wasting time on that encounter.

- Serena.

- Serena - Luc repeated as the pieces fell into place in his head. Serena saw this path. She could only have done this at the request of one person. Luc suddenly realized that he already knew the answer even before he went to the old master. Hannah. She had planned this. She wanted to go to Shailaja.

***

- Good morning, ladies - said Mr Theirn, hurrying into the room. The young women barely responded and continued their conversations. Mr Theirn placed the pictures on top of the board and took a deep breath before starting. He had spent the last few nights awake, rehearsing every word he would say in this lesson. He knew the contents by heart, of course, but he knew that a small slip could reach the guards' ears. Since Ür's ascension, he had seen his colleagues being reprimanded countless times by the generals of the Rariff army.

Ür had surrounded himself with nobles who went out of their way to please him. They were right, for displeasing the current Kral Rariff could have dire consequences. Ür was never contradicted.

Since the Maël's death, the Kral Ür had ordered changes to the lessons taught in Shailaja. It was now forbidden to talk about "heretical customs," as he called it. For years, his men had reviewed every teacher's lesson plan. In the latter, they came to the conclusion that these measures were no longer necessary. After all, Mr. Yezekael, one of Ür's top advisers, was ahead of Shailaja.

But Yezekael was also apprehensive. He had called him into his office last afternoon. Together, they went over every sentence Theirn would say. He asked Yezekael how he should act if Ms. Maël corrects him. But the director assured that this would not happen. Theirn watched the young woman sitting at the end of the room. Ever since he'd first seen her, he'd wondered if this was the real rani Maël.

She was an apathetic and ordinary girl. Her features didn't resemble Merab. The rana Maël had been an exuberant woman. Theirn had met her in Shailaja when he was still a young monitor. He hadn't actually given her lessons, but had followed her brief time at Shailaja before marrying Ammiel.

Like most palatial girls, Merab wore her full hair long and loose. The palatial nobility followed the customs of its people and was far more informal than the northern nobility. Their clothes were light, the dresses of the young women less closed, their manners cheerful. The palatial nobility brought Shailaja to life with their irreverence, their endless parties, their dancing.

Theirn couldn't help the sadness that overtook him whenever he watched the silent young woman at the end of the room, oblivious to the conversations of the other girls. She looked shy and helpless, but something bothered him. Curious as he was, Theirn took note of the young Maël's every move. To this day, no one knew how she had fled Palatials after Ür's ascension, but everyone seemed comfortable with the version that she had been raised on a farm in Tegalaan. Let's see what they said to her on this farm, Theirn thought.

- Well, continuing our lesson on Palatials, today we will enter the sphere of culture. In the last lesson, we discussed plausible hypotheses for building the Palace. Today, we'll talk about the myths and legends that the palatials created to explain its existence. First, we must remember that these tales were created hundreds of years ago by men who didn't have the knowledge we have at the present day. - He paused. Hannah was still staring out the window. Taking a deep breath, Theirn continued: - As I said last week, the palatials were probably the first men to definitively inhabit Adij Alim. Some of the most ancient customs in the South arose with these people, which is why it is so important that we go over these myths.

Mr Theirn pointed to an engraving showing the interior of the Palace at night. Small men were gathered in a hall and tall, dark shadows were reflected on the walls.

- The Palace has always been a safe haven for the first men who inhabited it. However, soon there were stories about specters and beings that prowled the castle at night.... Is something wrong, Miss. Bailey? - Theirn asked irritably as the 15-year-old giggled.

- No, sir, please continue.

- As I said, these are myths created hundreds of years ago. Continuing: the palatials were certain that the Palace was haunted. However, they didn't want to leave the shelter's security. For years they lived in the region without incident. They believed that the inscriptions on the floor and walls had been made by the spirits who now lived in the castle.

Mr Theirn chose to ignore the whispers of the young women, who were now laughing among themselves. At least Ms. Maël, too, ignored him completely, her eyes lost at sea.

- According to the legend, a small boy, named Josiah, disappeared. He was the only son of the clan leader, who would become the Maël clan. The entire village went looking for him. All day they searched the forest, the castle, the beach. Finally, Josiah was found on a rock far from the shore, in the middle of the sea. It was already dark, and the tide was rising quickly. The waves were high, and the palatials couldn't swim to the boy. Desperate, the mother made an appeal to the spirits of the castle. She said: 'Friendly spirits! For years you let us live in your house and no harm came to us. If you are really good, please save my boy'. According to the legend, a beautiful woman with long wings appeared on the beach. She was much taller than the palatials, was dressed in elegant clothes and rich jewelry. She began to sing a soft song and soon the waves calmed, seeming to sleep. She continued to sing until the palatials got through the tide and brought the boy from the rock to the beach. Then, the woman returned to the forest. The palatials recognized, in the woman's song, the language of the inscriptions that marked the walls and floor of the Palace. Since that day, they started to repeat the inscriptions, even without knowing what they meant. They repeated the strange language always at dawn, in thanks for the protection of the friendly spirits.

"When he grew up, Josiah became the clan leader. One night he went to the beach and said, 'Friendly spirits, every day we sing for you, please teach us your language so that we can thank you properly'. According to the legend, while the young leader slept, the woman returned. In his dreams she spoke to Josiah and told him: 'When you wake up, you will know our language, which is now yours too, Agnus Maël, friend of the gods.'

The next day, Josiah began to understand the inscriptions on the walls. However, only he could read what they said. When he tried to explain it to the other palatials, they didn't understand and the leader Josiah felt frustrated. Before going to sleep, he questioned the goddess: 'I can't explain the language to my people, only I can thank you'. As he slept, the goddess appeared in his dreams and said, 'Young Maël, you have been chosen by the gods and all your lineage. Come to the East Wing and find us'.

According to legend, the next day Josiah went to the East Wing and found the way to the city of the gods. The first Maël failed to teach the language of the gods to his people. But he said he was successful in passing the knowledge on to his children. And their children taught their grandchildren. And so on".

- What do the inscriptions say? - asked Miss. Narayama.

- We don't know... - Mr Theirn took another deep breath. This part would be especially difficult. - The Maël said that only the heirs of their lineage could read the inscriptions. According to them, they would be commands for the land. In times of drought, the inscriptions of the gods could bring rain. In times of flooding, they could make Amandeep's rays shine brighter. As the weather in Palatials is extremely favorable for plantations, it was easy to get the people to believe this version - concluded Mr Theirn, not daring to look to the back of the room.

A buzz filled the room. Now the girls whispered, reproducing what they had heard at home.

- It was all a farce, as we already know! - squeaked Ava Bailey, making an ironic snort.

- Well... They were legends, Miss Bailey. But we know it's not possible to control the weather.

- Mr Theirn. I have a question - said Miss Narayama.

- Please, miss - said Mr Theirn apprehensively. Mabel Narayama was a studious and extremely perceptive young woman. He dreaded the kind of question she would ask.

- There are those who still believe that the Maël used the inscriptions to favor the plantations...

- Miss Narayama - interrupted Theirn: - believing in such myths is considered heresy...

- ... mainly peasants - continued the young woman unfazed. - They say there has never been a drought in Palatials like the one in the last decade.

Damn. Theirn saw when Miss Maël looked at Miss Narayama with interest. He searched his mind for the phrase he had rehearsed with Mr. Yezekael the previous afternoon.

- See... Some people, when things don't go well, resort to superstition to justify their own mistakes. However, any superstition like this is heresy.

- Well, anyway, it seems that the gods aren't as friends with the Maël anymore, isn't it? - whispered Ava Bailey loud enough for everyone to hear. Derisive laughter filled the room and Hannah felt her blood boil. She wasn't used to being made fun of. Now she was a joke to 15-year-old girls, and nothing could be done.

- I doubt she can read that inscription - Ava continued, her confidence renewed by the laughter. She pointed to the second engraving, which depicted a palace wall. A small phrase in a foreign language was drawn above a tree whose leaves were falling.

- That's enough, Miss Bailey... - Mr Theirn was saying as a low voice cut across the room.

- I can read it - Hannah said, her gaze still lost in Shailaja's waves. It was a beautiful day, despite the cold weather.

All were silent.

- If Mr. Theirn allows it, I'll read the inscription - Hannah said, her voice soft.

- You're bluffing - Ava Bailey accused.

- It's not necessary, Miss. Maël, besides, you were too young to learn... - Mr Theirn began, but, realizing that he had said too much, he stopped abruptly.

- Well, if it's just a silly superstition, I don't see why Miss Maël could not read - said Miss Narayama. This statement caused a commotion in the room and all the girls were now making pleas to hear the supposed inscription.

Mr Theirn stared at Hannah, assessing the situation. She looked serene, but there was a spark in her eyes. She challenged him. If he denied it, he could be accused of believing in the Maël superstitions. He would be expelled from Shailaja and could even be arrested. On the other hand, he feared what would happen if she read the inscription. Even before their fall, the Maël no longer talked about inscriptions. They were wary of information about their religion, especially with radicalism growing in so many regions of Adij Alim. But the legends were notorious and ancient.

- Go ahead, Miss. Maël.

Looking at her expression, Mr. Theirn realized that he had made the wrong decision. The left corner of her mouth curved up slightly. She was satisfied. They all waited silently as Hannah looked at the picture and spoke in a low, clear voice words they had never heard.

The silence was broken by Ava Bailey's mocking laughter: - You can't really believe this!

- And what does it mean, Miss Maël? - asked Narayama, ignoring Ava completely.

- Mr. Theirn, would you allow me to say? - Hannah asked with an innocent tone of voice.

- Say it - replied Theirn, who was now sweating under his thick gray mustache.

- It means 'let it wind' - Hannah said, her voice still calm. She slowly shifted her gaze to the window, which showed the beautiful day in Shailaja.

~*~

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Ps: I am a Brazilian author and a dear friend is helping me translate this book. Please feel free to point out any mistakes. Hope you like it!