The Illusion Queen
Chapter 2
It was obvious that the Daughter waiting for Aleja in the palanquin was one of great importance, for the purpose of every Daughter was emblazoned upon the skin. The long tattoos of green and gold speckled feathers that ran down the woman's arm marked her as an Emissary.
Emissaries, messengers of the Queen, spent their lives travelling around the island overseeing the work done in the Queen's name.
From the length and size of the feathers on the woman's arm, and from wrinkles barely concealed by thick, black eyeliner, it was obvious that she was a High Emissary.
Aleja's own right shoulder had the head of a snake, the symbol of Judges. Over time, if Aleja's work found merit in the eyes of her peers, the snake would sprout many different colored heads that would coil around her arm and back.
Aleja bowed and then sat upright in a rigid, respectful posture. The woman reclined lazily in her chair. She returned Aleja's bow with a nod given more by her sleepy, almond shaped eyes than with her head.
The woman held a handful of seeds out for the waiting beak of a white cockatoo perched beside her.
Aleja was taken aback by the sight of the bird. It was unusual for people on Corazon to keep birds, for they were so common on the island that flocks of them darkened the skies even on a cloudless day. Most people, Aleja included, thought of them as pests.
The bird devoured the seed quickly and greedily. Once finished, it stretched out its wings and crest to reveal beautiful feathers of light pink and yellow.
Aleja winced as the bird let out a satisfied squawk after its meal. The woman, seemingly unaffected by the ear-piercing sound, casually wiped the scattered remains of the meal out of the billowing pleats of her garment, an almost translucent blue peplos that glittered like the sky just before sunrise.
“Hermes wants another” the bird demanded with a nibble to the woman's ear. The woman laughed, gave the bird a playful rap on its head, and stretched her legs out from the slit in the side of her peplos. The golden anklets on her legs let out a ringing chime.
Aleja noticed that even as old as the woman seemed, her legs kept the shape of one who spent her life trying to retain the beauty of her youth.
“Please call this Daughter, Aleja.”
“Greetings Aleja. This Daughter may be called, Kalim.”
Aleja swallowed hard before she raised her head. She knew the name.
Kalim was High Emissary of Mir, who not only represented the entire city when travelling through Corazon, but also was one of the few that ever came into contact with the Queen herself.
Kalim plucked a grape from a wooden bowl by her side, placed it in her mouth, and chewed slowly.
“And as this beautiful creature has already told you…” Kalim ran her fingers through the bird's plumes “… this is my friend, companion, and lifelong confidant, Hermes.”
Aleja awkwardly nodded to Hermes, who bowed in response.
Aleja couldn't tell which of the two made her feel more uncomfortable, the annoying bird or its playfully doting, yet powerful, master.
“Hermes,” Kalim said while holding a seed from its waiting beak, “I believe we should be going.”
Hermes let out another ear-piercing shriek. The bearers lifted the palanquin and glided it forward as smoothly as if it were a ship setting out to sail.
Hermes squawked with delight at the sight of the seeds Kalim placed in a small wooden bowl attached to his perch.
Aleja smiled faintly at Kalim. Aleja's arms were still folded at her waist, and she had to fight the urge to rub her hands along her skin.
“What may this Daughter do for Kalim?”
“You may dispense with such formal talk.” Kalim responded almost before Aleja finished speaking. “You are sitting in my palanquin, not on the judge's chair.”
Kalim's smile did nothing to soften the bluntness of her speech.
“Although you appear to be a nice enough girl, I regret to tell you my visit is not for us to get acquainted. I am here to take you to the High Temple. Were you aware of that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea why?”
“It is not my place to suspect.”
Kalim smiled.
“It's not your place, yes, but you do suspect something. Or, at least, I would hope so. You're not like one of those empty-headed dolts who can't even say their own name are you?”
Aleja shook her head. Kalim smiled, then plopped a grape into her mouth and rolled it along her tongue.
“So, go on.” Kalim chewed as she spoke. “What do you suspect about the nature of this trip?”
“From the Palanquin's color and the sight of your distinction, this trip must be of some importance.” Aleja said with a nod to Kalim's arm. Tattooing was a common practice throughout Corazon, for it marked everyone's place in society. Aleja used the more formal word distinction for Kalim. Only simple people who worked with their hands referred to the marks on their faces, arms and shoulders as tattoos. “I must have been summoned to be informed about the Queen's health.”
“It's interesting that you think you are important enough to be told anything about that.” Kalim's lips curled as if one of the grapes in her mouth had suddenly soured. “So, you did not suspect you would be summoned because of your own actions?”
“I considered the possibility.”
Kalim raised one eyebrow. In the silence that followed Aleja felt compelled to elaborate.
“What I mean to say is...it is common practice for a Judge to be called to a temple for thought and reflection. So, I knew I would be called to reflect on my judgments today, but only when I saw the palanquin did I sus-“Aleja's stopped herself short, “-thought I could be taken to the High Temple, and that it would be for something else.”
“So, if you only suspected because of the palanquin, and not because of the seriousness of your actions today, or from the sight of the smoke, then why are you so afraid now?”
“I apologize to disagree with you High Emissary, but I am not afraid.”
Kalim laughed.
“Please spare me such nonsense. I admire bold people, not bold lies.”
Aleja bristled at the accusation. A Judge's honor was based on their adherence to the truth. To be called a liar was the greatest insult anyone could give to a Judge.
“I'm not a liar.”
“Is that so? Well, perhaps you're not lying to me, but you are certainly lying to yourself. You may be trained in memory and regurgitating the wisdom of our Queen, but as I'm sure you well know, Emissaries have developed different capabilities to serve the Queen's people. Namely, the ability to read a person, to know all you need to know the moment you see them.”
“I know the duties and skills of all the Daughters of Corazon, High Emissary, for I left my life as a novice many seasons ago. More seasons that I can remember.”
“Really? You must be a poor Judge then, for someone who looks so young not to recall the number of seasons since you first took your seat as Judge.”
“I only meant-”
“I know what you meant girl.” Kalim said with a dismissive wave “You're baited far too easily.”
Kalim leaned in towards Aleja and stared directly into her eyes. The smell of rose scented oils filled Aleja's nose.
“Tell me. Are you indeed Aleja? A Judge of Mir? A Daughter of our mother and savior the Queen? Or did we pick up her sniveling servant on accident?”
No one had ever spoken to Aleja in such a fashion since she had become a Judge. Only a novice was supposed to endure such insults, and then only from their teachers, whose cutting sharpness of their tongues was only matched by the sting of their slaps.
“How dare you!” Aleja shouted. “I am the Judgment of the Queen! You have no right to speak to me that way.”
Kalim took a long look at Aleja and then broke into a laugh.
“What?” Aleja shouted, “What amuses you so?”
“Your quite passionate for a Judge aren't you? And so easily offended. I thought Judges were supposed to be more thick skinned that that.”
“Well,” Aleja tried to control the tone of her voice to show that she had regained her composure, but her words came with a slight tremble off her tongue, “I thought Emissaries were taught to be more charming.”
Kalim laughed again.
“Yes, well, life teaches you its own lessons that we all must take heed of. Like how to ease the fear in a young woman you're escorting to judgment.”
“I'm not scared.” Aleja replied sharply. “I'm not a child.”
Even though I sound like one right now. I should be better than that.
“Well then, my little dew petal, perhaps you don't understand the stakes.”
Aleja cringed upon hearing Kalim call her a “dew petal.” It was an affectionate name when cooing over babies but to use it with young women was a most condescending insult, for it insinuated that there was nothing more to her than a transitory beauty. For once the day grew long, there was nothing left but a withered leaf.
“I'm sure you've heard of the solitude in the Room of Reflection?” Kalim continued. “Most certainly you know of the poisonous vastness of the Wastes.”
“Of course I know about such things.” Aleja slumped back into her seat.
Kalim nodded.
“I would hope so. You hid your fear of them well. But one thing I'm trained to do, and have done for many years, is to see through the masks we wear every day. And all masks, no matter how much they conceal, cannot hide the eyes. Even now, as you tell me you're not scared, I see your fear in them.”
“Perhaps that is true” Aleja's hands, rested on her thighs, involuntarily clenched into fists, “but why play games with me? You are my sister, why not reassure me?”
“I can reassure you of nothing.”
“Then why are we even speaking?”
“What would you have me do instead? Stare at you in silence as you sweated through my seat cushions?”
“Yes, that would be preferable.” Aleja replied curtly.
Kalim laughed out loud and clapped her hands. Hermes joined in with a laugh exactly the same as Kalim's, as if it were an echo.
“When my messenger told me a Judge from the dusty backstreets of Mir dared to condemn a man to die, I expected to meet someone with some fire. And yet this meek little creature crawled into my palanquin like a mouse hiding from a cat. It would do you no good to stand before High Chamberlain Taka like that, and I will not see a Daughter shame her sisters. So, “Fill a belly with anger, and there is no appetite for fear” as the saying goes…”
“That is not how the saying goes.” Aleja interrupted Kalim, and uncharacteristically felt no discomfort at her own rudeness, “…the expression is “fill a heart with love and it will not beat in fear.” Aleja leaned in towards Kalim and smiled. “As one who has gained many seasons in wisdom should know full well.”
Aleja expected to see that same mocking smile in reply, but rather, a shadow seemed to pass over Kalim's face.
“It has changed over time.” Kalim said with what Aleja thought was a hint of sadness. Kalim took a handful of seeds and spoke brightly to Hermes. “Has it not, my pet?”
Aleja watched bewildered as Kalim lovingly stroked the bird. Kalim broke into laughter at the sight of Aleja's discomfort. Hermes, his bowl of seeds refilled, laughed even louder.
Emissaries, messengers of the Queen, spent their lives travelling around the island overseeing the work done in the Queen's name.
From the length and size of the feathers on the woman's arm, and from wrinkles barely concealed by thick, black eyeliner, it was obvious that she was a High Emissary.
Aleja's own right shoulder had the head of a snake, the symbol of Judges. Over time, if Aleja's work found merit in the eyes of her peers, the snake would sprout many different colored heads that would coil around her arm and back.
Aleja bowed and then sat upright in a rigid, respectful posture. The woman reclined lazily in her chair. She returned Aleja's bow with a nod given more by her sleepy, almond shaped eyes than with her head.
The woman held a handful of seeds out for the waiting beak of a white cockatoo perched beside her.
Aleja was taken aback by the sight of the bird. It was unusual for people on Corazon to keep birds, for they were so common on the island that flocks of them darkened the skies even on a cloudless day. Most people, Aleja included, thought of them as pests.
The bird devoured the seed quickly and greedily. Once finished, it stretched out its wings and crest to reveal beautiful feathers of light pink and yellow.
Aleja winced as the bird let out a satisfied squawk after its meal. The woman, seemingly unaffected by the ear-piercing sound, casually wiped the scattered remains of the meal out of the billowing pleats of her garment, an almost translucent blue peplos that glittered like the sky just before sunrise.
“Hermes wants another” the bird demanded with a nibble to the woman's ear. The woman laughed, gave the bird a playful rap on its head, and stretched her legs out from the slit in the side of her peplos. The golden anklets on her legs let out a ringing chime.
Aleja noticed that even as old as the woman seemed, her legs kept the shape of one who spent her life trying to retain the beauty of her youth.
“Please call this Daughter, Aleja.”
“Greetings Aleja. This Daughter may be called, Kalim.”
Aleja swallowed hard before she raised her head. She knew the name.
Kalim was High Emissary of Mir, who not only represented the entire city when travelling through Corazon, but also was one of the few that ever came into contact with the Queen herself.
Kalim plucked a grape from a wooden bowl by her side, placed it in her mouth, and chewed slowly.
“And as this beautiful creature has already told you…” Kalim ran her fingers through the bird's plumes “… this is my friend, companion, and lifelong confidant, Hermes.”
Aleja awkwardly nodded to Hermes, who bowed in response.
Aleja couldn't tell which of the two made her feel more uncomfortable, the annoying bird or its playfully doting, yet powerful, master.
“Hermes,” Kalim said while holding a seed from its waiting beak, “I believe we should be going.”
Hermes let out another ear-piercing shriek. The bearers lifted the palanquin and glided it forward as smoothly as if it were a ship setting out to sail.
Hermes squawked with delight at the sight of the seeds Kalim placed in a small wooden bowl attached to his perch.
Aleja smiled faintly at Kalim. Aleja's arms were still folded at her waist, and she had to fight the urge to rub her hands along her skin.
“What may this Daughter do for Kalim?”
“You may dispense with such formal talk.” Kalim responded almost before Aleja finished speaking. “You are sitting in my palanquin, not on the judge's chair.”
Kalim's smile did nothing to soften the bluntness of her speech.
“Although you appear to be a nice enough girl, I regret to tell you my visit is not for us to get acquainted. I am here to take you to the High Temple. Were you aware of that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any idea why?”
“It is not my place to suspect.”
Kalim smiled.
“It's not your place, yes, but you do suspect something. Or, at least, I would hope so. You're not like one of those empty-headed dolts who can't even say their own name are you?”
Aleja shook her head. Kalim smiled, then plopped a grape into her mouth and rolled it along her tongue.
“So, go on.” Kalim chewed as she spoke. “What do you suspect about the nature of this trip?”
“From the Palanquin's color and the sight of your distinction, this trip must be of some importance.” Aleja said with a nod to Kalim's arm. Tattooing was a common practice throughout Corazon, for it marked everyone's place in society. Aleja used the more formal word distinction for Kalim. Only simple people who worked with their hands referred to the marks on their faces, arms and shoulders as tattoos. “I must have been summoned to be informed about the Queen's health.”
“It's interesting that you think you are important enough to be told anything about that.” Kalim's lips curled as if one of the grapes in her mouth had suddenly soured. “So, you did not suspect you would be summoned because of your own actions?”
“I considered the possibility.”
Kalim raised one eyebrow. In the silence that followed Aleja felt compelled to elaborate.
“What I mean to say is...it is common practice for a Judge to be called to a temple for thought and reflection. So, I knew I would be called to reflect on my judgments today, but only when I saw the palanquin did I sus-“Aleja's stopped herself short, “-thought I could be taken to the High Temple, and that it would be for something else.”
“So, if you only suspected because of the palanquin, and not because of the seriousness of your actions today, or from the sight of the smoke, then why are you so afraid now?”
“I apologize to disagree with you High Emissary, but I am not afraid.”
Kalim laughed.
“Please spare me such nonsense. I admire bold people, not bold lies.”
Aleja bristled at the accusation. A Judge's honor was based on their adherence to the truth. To be called a liar was the greatest insult anyone could give to a Judge.
“I'm not a liar.”
“Is that so? Well, perhaps you're not lying to me, but you are certainly lying to yourself. You may be trained in memory and regurgitating the wisdom of our Queen, but as I'm sure you well know, Emissaries have developed different capabilities to serve the Queen's people. Namely, the ability to read a person, to know all you need to know the moment you see them.”
“I know the duties and skills of all the Daughters of Corazon, High Emissary, for I left my life as a novice many seasons ago. More seasons that I can remember.”
“Really? You must be a poor Judge then, for someone who looks so young not to recall the number of seasons since you first took your seat as Judge.”
“I only meant-”
“I know what you meant girl.” Kalim said with a dismissive wave “You're baited far too easily.”
Kalim leaned in towards Aleja and stared directly into her eyes. The smell of rose scented oils filled Aleja's nose.
“Tell me. Are you indeed Aleja? A Judge of Mir? A Daughter of our mother and savior the Queen? Or did we pick up her sniveling servant on accident?”
No one had ever spoken to Aleja in such a fashion since she had become a Judge. Only a novice was supposed to endure such insults, and then only from their teachers, whose cutting sharpness of their tongues was only matched by the sting of their slaps.
“How dare you!” Aleja shouted. “I am the Judgment of the Queen! You have no right to speak to me that way.”
Kalim took a long look at Aleja and then broke into a laugh.
“What?” Aleja shouted, “What amuses you so?”
“Your quite passionate for a Judge aren't you? And so easily offended. I thought Judges were supposed to be more thick skinned that that.”
“Well,” Aleja tried to control the tone of her voice to show that she had regained her composure, but her words came with a slight tremble off her tongue, “I thought Emissaries were taught to be more charming.”
Kalim laughed again.
“Yes, well, life teaches you its own lessons that we all must take heed of. Like how to ease the fear in a young woman you're escorting to judgment.”
“I'm not scared.” Aleja replied sharply. “I'm not a child.”
Even though I sound like one right now. I should be better than that.
“Well then, my little dew petal, perhaps you don't understand the stakes.”
Aleja cringed upon hearing Kalim call her a “dew petal.” It was an affectionate name when cooing over babies but to use it with young women was a most condescending insult, for it insinuated that there was nothing more to her than a transitory beauty. For once the day grew long, there was nothing left but a withered leaf.
“I'm sure you've heard of the solitude in the Room of Reflection?” Kalim continued. “Most certainly you know of the poisonous vastness of the Wastes.”
“Of course I know about such things.” Aleja slumped back into her seat.
Kalim nodded.
“I would hope so. You hid your fear of them well. But one thing I'm trained to do, and have done for many years, is to see through the masks we wear every day. And all masks, no matter how much they conceal, cannot hide the eyes. Even now, as you tell me you're not scared, I see your fear in them.”
“Perhaps that is true” Aleja's hands, rested on her thighs, involuntarily clenched into fists, “but why play games with me? You are my sister, why not reassure me?”
“I can reassure you of nothing.”
“Then why are we even speaking?”
“What would you have me do instead? Stare at you in silence as you sweated through my seat cushions?”
“Yes, that would be preferable.” Aleja replied curtly.
Kalim laughed out loud and clapped her hands. Hermes joined in with a laugh exactly the same as Kalim's, as if it were an echo.
“When my messenger told me a Judge from the dusty backstreets of Mir dared to condemn a man to die, I expected to meet someone with some fire. And yet this meek little creature crawled into my palanquin like a mouse hiding from a cat. It would do you no good to stand before High Chamberlain Taka like that, and I will not see a Daughter shame her sisters. So, “Fill a belly with anger, and there is no appetite for fear” as the saying goes…”
“That is not how the saying goes.” Aleja interrupted Kalim, and uncharacteristically felt no discomfort at her own rudeness, “…the expression is “fill a heart with love and it will not beat in fear.” Aleja leaned in towards Kalim and smiled. “As one who has gained many seasons in wisdom should know full well.”
Aleja expected to see that same mocking smile in reply, but rather, a shadow seemed to pass over Kalim's face.
“It has changed over time.” Kalim said with what Aleja thought was a hint of sadness. Kalim took a handful of seeds and spoke brightly to Hermes. “Has it not, my pet?”
Aleja watched bewildered as Kalim lovingly stroked the bird. Kalim broke into laughter at the sight of Aleja's discomfort. Hermes, his bowl of seeds refilled, laughed even louder.