Nuan felt the seconds pulse by in his body, a ticking clock rising above from the back of his neck. The adrenaline, riddled with the dread of what’s to come, the sudden urge to run faster, and the rapid tapping of his feet as he increased his pacing. The street bustled as he passed through the marketplace, onlookers whipped their eyeballs as they barely caught his passing figure. His side view flashed rapidly with blurred colors; red from the apples, yellow from the bananas, brown from dried coconuts, and green from, well, greens fogged by sizzling smoke from the street-food carts. The suffocating heat of the sunlight seeped uncomfortably with the crowded body heat as Nuan pushed his way through.

A street vendor stared at the loosely braided hair that bounced against Nuan’s back as he ran past.

‘Isn’t he from the soisidaitiri?’ He yelled at his neighbor above the bustling noise.

‘Seems so.’

‘Huh?’

‘I said, most probably!’ His neighbor yelled, ‘He looks almost age for succession.’

‘Already fifteen? They grow up so fast.’ His hands don’t stop working, rapidly tossing and stirring the contents of the wok, ‘It drags on for us though, life.’

Eighty-two

Eighty-three

Eighty-four

Eight-

‘It has gotten late.’ The Gama: The leader of their people, the Resistors, cut in, a mere but severely passive statement.

‘My grave apologies, sire.’ Pavi bowed his head slightly, ‘I implore you to extend your patience. I assure you he is surely setting towards.’ The situation seemed to be quelled.

Pavi, Ehan noticed, always looked so serene, like he swirled into existence above a divine water body with his long flowy straight hair and he immediately knew all the answers to the world as soon as he opened his eyes. The Yang to his father’s rigid merciless Yin.

Ehan quickly glanced at his father’s hard features. He looked surprisingly calm. Calm before the storm. He turned his attention back, to the sound of water droplets escaping from the leaking pipeline.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

Where was he? Eighty-two? Was it three?

The distant tapping of footsteps replaced the serene plops and Pavi perked up, straightening his spine with a confident relief. Nuan slowed and paced himself in small assured steps while catching his breath.

Exhale. Inhale.

Exhale.

Nuan approached the pergola and stopped himself at an appropriate distance from where the Gama and his father sat. He dared not to set into gaze with his patrons. He bowed and his eyes fell on his calves, he was trembling.

‘My sincerest apologies. I offer not an excuse but my submission. I am ready for any disciplinary measures your Sire may deem fit.’

Silence.

Nuan closed his eyes, and his lungs expanded rapidly for air.

‘Rise.’ The Gama’s voice seemed heavy and suffocating then, of course, it may have been merely due to the nerves, but it remained as he continued ‘There is no need for that, boy. Come. Sit.’

Nuan sat down beside his father and found himself facing a boy. The rumored Gamasha– the successor of the Gama. Nuan looked at him, and yet he couldn’t find him. The Gamasha seemed to be present, yet not; his eyes unfocused and hollow, stared behind Nuan. Weird.

‘This…’ The Gama placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and then, he seemed to come alive like a puppet whose strings have been pulled sharply, ‘…is my son, Ehan. The successor.’

Nuan bowed in respect and Ehan, back straight, nodded in acknowledgment. Barely.

Pavi looked at the Gama. Go on. ‘My son, Nuan.’

‘I see. Preparations should start by nightfall. Pavi, see to their fasting, will you.’ 

‘Yes, Sire. As for the ornament…’

‘My wife has it in charge, you should consult her.’

Nuan felt his toes spasm slightly, he wanted to run. He felt itchy, a restlessness pinching down with urgency. His father prepared him his entire life for this yet-

Yet it has boiled down to what he had worse feared. He must now dedicate his life and service to the successor, the next Gama who would lead their people, the people who embraced what had passed since the wave of urbanization.

A shiver ran down his body.

Ninety-nine

Ninety-nine

Ninety-nine

Nine…Nine…

Ehan stared at the boy before him. He looked like he simply didn’t belong. Well, nothing so striking that drew the line but it was there, surely. Somewhere there, in his long braided silver hair, thin lanky frame, his repressed expression. He looked like One Hundred. One Hundred serene water drops escaping from a crusty red pipe, one at a time.

They were not allowed to speak up and naturally, it was favored as one feared if a conversation was even possible and the other feared he might…well, he simply did not feel like it.

This boy would be what Pavi was to his father, Pavi who stuck by, who listened and answered, Pavi who served his father with a reverence rivaling religion. A fifteen-year-old naturally ran his fantasies of a companionship he had witnessed within his surroundings, a camaraderie but not quite, a bond that seemed to belittle marriage, but of course, it is but a fantasy, removed of the uneven roughness a teenager could not fathom at that age that even if he saw, he would discard his humanity and resort to disbelief.

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Gold.

Everything was gold.

The trees, the houses, and the humans. The glory between the light and dark glared, or rather, peeked from behind the black hills and Maya felt agitated. The sun was setting and the man was yelling, she could not make out the words but she could hear them. Maybe the agitation seeped in from them, the bustling commotion of their people as they ran back and forth, looking aimless yet determined. Their place, usually deserted, suddenly seemed to be submerged in humanity and there came a feeling of displacement within her.

‘Ma.’ She called out, turning away from the window. One-half of her face was painted of the gold she was staring at.

There was no reply.

Maya stared at the shadowy figure moving about, the lamp wasn’t on. Maybe her mother was focused on lighting the lamp. Why were they still using lamps? She often heard gossip that the Gama’s place would magically light up with the motion of a finger. The people who worked at the Gama’s residence gossiped plenty much for Maya to envisioned what her "uncle's" place looked like.

Maya tried to tear her eyes away from the figure, Ma, it was stuck on her throat, almost there but refusing to rise to existence.  Her mother, so distant and dark, often tearing Maya. She didn’t know anything except that it just tore inside.

‘M-’ Tap tap tap

Her mother’s body zapped with realization, then the shadowy figure flung up and out. The creak of the door opening echoed and Maya sat still because she knew what was happening. She would let it happen. At fifteen, it is impossible to remain oblivious and blasé. Her mother’s voice rose in hushed tones and even years later, the resignation in her very essence would be impossible to forget. Maya stills wonders in the distant future why that was the only thing she could think of her mother. Her mother tottered back in hushed tones, her back bent ever so slightly and she hurriedly scratched a lamp alight. The shadow of her hand seemed to tremble. Maya waited and it came.

‘The Gama has requested of my audience’ The words crawled out in slow motion; Maya saw them with her eyes even before they reached her ears. The Gama, her father’s brother. Her mother’s brother-in-law.

And…a daily audience in his presence.

Maya looked at the window scene again, the gold is now black, the people are gone. What were they doing? The question wouldn’t repeat, the emptiness of its equation is gone.

The sun was bright.

Nuan looked up and stared at the piercing white. Pavi said it meant that this would be eventful. Nuan wished for more than eventful, something more that teetered on the edge of the cliff. He readied himself for the ceremony, a disgustingly plain black traditional garb: a black tunic with deep slits at the sides and high collars paired a pair of loose black pants, an embroidered feet sandals in another disgusting black. Pavi said it meant that he was now the Soisidai to the Gamasha; his shadow.

So much for symbolism.

He unraveled his hair of the plaiting and stared down at his reflection in the round mirror placed on the ground. He thought of Ehan, his weird reticent demeanor. He was…ordinary, extremely. Nuan thought of the times he had met his father, the Gama who seemed to forever reek of menace. The Gama was unpleasant but his son could not look more normal than an orchid insect among stargazer lilies. What was this sudden agitation that rattled against his knees as though his instinct was rising against a prominent sense of danger? The heaviness of the role fell upon his hands and has though he failed and dropped it on the ground, the sense of inadequacy spread like ink on water. Now he was to– Nuan started, his shoulders jolting violently, a set of eyes stared back at him from behind his head in the mirror.

He flung himself around and back and stared at the girl before him. He huffed from the sudden adrenaline.

 ‘Who?’ He asked, almost gasped.

The girl peered at him with equal curiosity. Nuan looked at her crusty lips as she spoke hoarsely,

‘Maya.’

‘Have you seen where the ceremonial mat is?’

‘Ah, it must be in the warehouse behind the madame’s quarters’ Pavi smiled and guided the maid by her shoulders, to the north side. The Head’s Lady, Gama-i’s quarters stood looming and pristine of white walls. The surrounding gardens bloomed a mesh of gardenias, erupting the pathway with its sweet smell and if you were to look up to the building, the open glass windows gleamed back the sunlight and the translucent curtains threw themselves out of it.

Pavi looked back at the enormous garden that spread out, swarming with the preparations of the ceremony. White cloth was draped over wooden beams spreading out of the pergola that stood in the middle of the expanse and on the pergola, the current Soisidai was to bound the Gamasha and his shadow together. Pavi looked down from the ocean sky and spotted a familiar figure.

The Gama stood alone and meters away as he too watched the preparations. Ah, Pavi breathed in the faint wisp of gardenias, time really has passed by.

‘Pavi.’

 The Gama stood at his place but he looked ethereal as he turned against the blues and green of nature. Pavi smiled faintly and approached him.

‘Yes, sire?’

‘Let the kids be informed. The ceremony shall begin.’

The chant of the ceremony echoed from Pavi’s distant past.

with this, Soisidaitiri is merged,

the shadow and guide;

lead the path to flourish,

to the path of the Gods.

He shall

protect, serve, honor,

shepherd,

the root of his existence

amalgam of the chosen

begins from now on,

until the cycle of the moon,

the eyes of the Sun

ceases to exist.