Chapter 98:
“It’s the ones from the Chenta quinters,” the guard was saying to his partner. “They’re such a pain. Half of them don’t even know they have to come to the castle to be reviewed!”
Quietly, silently, broom in hand, Mayah took another step down the corridor, and listened to the voices around the corner. She’d swept this hallway earlier but had now returned, hoping to overhear exactly this: guards’ gossip. It was the only way she could get any information on what had happened to the bio-dome recently. If she wanted to have even a chance at passing her review, she had to know that at least.
“The patrols will bring them in,” the other guard replied. “And they’ll be reviewed, like all of us, to see whether – or not – they can be trusted. Living with the Chenta, they probably think like Chenta too.”
Mayah pursed her lips, trying to fit in what she was hearing with what she’d picked up so far. As far as she could tell, the guards were talking about Eenta fleeing from Chenta-majority quinters. That much she’d picked up already. After the Uprising, Chenta living in Industrilia and LakeCentral had fled for Chenta-majority quinters and Eenta living in Woodheart and Lost Technology had fled for their quinters in the same way. Lord Dasgu had instituted the classification system as a way to keep track of all the individuals in his quinters, newcomers from Chenta-majority quinters and old-timers alike.
“Is it really that we can’t trust them, though, or that we need their labor?” the first guard replied. “I mean, someone’s got to do Chenta work around here. Why not the suspect loyalties?”
“What? You’re not suggesting that Queen Dasgu is lying about the reason for classification?”
“No, no, of course not,” the first guard hastily responded. “I never – no – that’s not at all – no, definitely not.”
“Besides, if we needed labor, we could have conquered the Xhota and had them do Chenta work. They wouldn’t have lasted a week against us. That’s why they agreed so quickly to join Queen Dasgu and the Eenta.”
“Why didn’t we conquer them then? If it was so easy?”
Mayah was at the corner of the hallway now. She peeked around its edge. Without glasses nothing was very clear, but she could tell the guards were standing in front of an exit to the serf staircase. One of them seemed to be gazing disapprovingly at the other. “You ask a lot of questions, but not the kind I’d expect from someone of your high level of classification.”
“I just – I like to think, I like to know. That’s all.”
“Is that right.”
“I mean, they brought in all those mutineers recently, didn’t they? The Xhota brought them in, right?”
“What’s your point?”
If the guard had a point, Mayah didn’t hear it. The words caught up to her and she drew back around the corner, hand over her mouth. Mutineers – the Cursed – they were here –
Oh, if I can escape, I can escape to them, and then I won’t have to worry about my review!
It was such a good idea. It was the first idea Mayah had had that brought her some relief. But how would she do it? She didn’t even know where the Cursed were exactly. Somewhere in LakeCentral Quinter? Oh, maybe the guards were still talking about it, maybe she should listen some more? But no, they were talking about something else now, some upcoming guards’ inspection. Mayah would have to find some other way to uncover where the Cursed – and Sukren with them – were.
***
Coffee Post #1.
It cost Mayah her glasses – her last link to her Rajas life – to find that bit of information out. That wasn’t all her glasses bought her, though. They also got her assigned to clean LakeCentral Castle’s library. Thank Sarana that Mayah’s foreman was a greedy man, not a political one!
Besides, the way the foreman was pawing through all the belongings of the lower classified, Mayah figured she didn’t have much time until he found and took her glasses away anyway in exchange for nothing. And it wasn’t like she could wear them. Plus, she’d been tired of being nervous about someone finding them and then accusing her of being a Rajas. It was better to be rid of them. Especially in exchange for a library!
It was important to remember, however, that Mayah didn’t know how long she’d be assigned to the library for. She didn’t exactly expect the foreman to be either fair or nice. He didn’t seem particularly fair or nice at any rate. It would probably be smarter to treat him like he was one of the princesses Mayah used to go to school with. They had been interested in Mayah only for as long as she could give them something good; so too would the foreman be. Once he realized Mayah had nothing left to offer, he’d get mean. That meant Mayah had to move, quick quick quick, find maps of the quinter, find blueprints of the castle, find a way out of LakeCentral Castle to Coffee Post #1.
Unfortunately, the library was big. Mayah looked, and looked, getting more and more nervous with each passing day, and still she couldn’t find anything.
Then one day an Eenta came up with a cart stuffed full of manuscripts. He wheeled it into the library right near where Mayah was sweeping. She caught a quick glimpse – they looked like newly printed books – maybe they had more up-to-date information that could help her find a way out? The thought gave her hope. Feeling excited, she ran for the cart as soon as the Eenta was gone.
Hm. All the books were the same. RAJAS TALES, each read. Mayah squinted at the words through the clear bioplastic cover of the topmost book. Well, maybe it would tell her where all the Rajas had disappeared to? That might be helpful. Mayah glanced over her shoulder, then picked up the book from its pile, and opened it to the table of contents.
TALE 1: THE CRUEL PRINCESS AND THE NOBLE SERF GIRL.
TALE 2: THE UGLY PRINCE.
TALE 3: THE PRINCESS WHO LIED TO A SERF MOTHER.
TALE 4: THE PRINCE WHO ABUSED A SERF CHILD.
There were around fifty tales, all variants on the same theme. Mayah hesitated, then turned to the first tale. Before the Uprising, before the Eenta led the Free Serfs to victory, we were ruled by a cruel and cowardly class. Yes, boys and girls, I speak to you of the Rajas. Oh, they were cruel, oh, they were cowardly! Let me give you a story to show you just what I mean. You see, back when they ruled us, they could do anything they liked to us. They could beat us, they could call us nasty names, they could put us in cages and not give us food. One day, one of these Rajas, a princess of the name of Yaini, decided she didn’t like the looks of the poor little Eenta girl forced to serve her. So do you know what she did?
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Mayah’s eyebrows went up higher and higher as she continued reading. Yaini ordered the serf girl to hand over her meager portion of food? That didn’t make sense. A princess like Yaini would be eating much better food at the cafeteria. She wouldn’t want serf rations. Also, a princess wouldn’t have cared about, much less noticed, a castle serf girl’s looks!
Mayah skimmed through the other tales, but nothing in them stood out to her. Not that she had expected anything to. Mayah needed facts, not fiction. Replacing the manuscript, she returned to her broom. Maps, that was what she needed. Not stories. Especially not badly written stories that weren’t even realistic.
Well, they weren’t completely unrealistic. The Golden Castle had been oppressive. Like Vek had said. Rajas rule was the problem, and the Free Serfs the solution.
Right?
Mayah stopped sweeping. The past few weeks she hadn’t given much thought to anything but survival. Her mind felt foggy. The Rajas were the problem, the Free Serfs the solution. Mayah knew that. So how come the Rajas Tales bothered her so much? What did it matter if they weren’t exactly true? The point was… it was…
To end Rajas rule, that was it. But then again, Rajas rule had ended. So why tell such stories? It seemed kind of mean.
Not that it was a problem for serfs to be mean to Rajas. Although, then again… Mayah hesitated. There was a thought in the back of her mind, but it was the kind of thought you’d confess at a call-out session, that was how bad it was. Mayah closed her eyes. She pictured herself standing in the central aisle between the bunks. It was the only way she could allow herself to try the thought out. I feel like the serfs are being mean to each other more than anything else.
There! She had done it! For the first time since coming to LakeCentral Castle, Mayah felt like she could breathe, like a weight pressing down on her chest had been lifted. Another thought occurred to her, and this time it slipped out easily even though it was much worse. I can’t think of anything that happened under Rajas rule that’s as bad as call-out sessions.
Now Mayah felt like she was about to faint. Did I really think that? Could I really think that? Is it okay? Can I think more? Like, maybe all this serf stuff has nothing to do with me? Maybe all I need to do is keep my head down and stay out of the way? Let the serfs figure out their new world. I’ll focus on… finding the Cursed. And Sukren. And the truth about who I am.
But wait. Who cares about that? Finding out why I grew up in a serf village won’t help me escape my review. I mean, who even cares if Sukren lied to me? Sukren never made me feel bad about being a Rajas like the serfs here do. He listened to me. He took care of me.
He loved me.
***
That thought remained with Mayah for the rest of the week. It was at the end of that week that she came across the journal.
With her blurred vision Mayah might have missed it, but her hand happened to brush its soft-bound spine. There was something familiar about the feeling. Glancing furtively around the library, Mayah pulled the book off the shelf, and brought the cover to her eyes.
The Journal of the Lost Princess. Parts I and III.
Mayah immediately put the journal back. She picked her broom up from off the floor. Without even sweeping the area nearby, she left for another section of the library.
She was back the next day. After making sure nobody could see her, Mayah opened the journal and squinted at the first page.
My name is Menai. I am a princess of fourteen years of age. I was born in Woodheart Castle, 747 years after the Crash Landing, in the 11th regnal year of Queen Kalia.
I received my cycle a few weeks before my fourteenth birthday. I waited eagerly to be seeded, but when the kalpate came to get me, they brought me not to my senior castle, but here, to this glass tower above Lost Technology. They did not mistreat me. They gave me books, bedding, and food, but they told me nothing.
I am here in the tower now, writing between the lines of the books I was given, desperate for an explanation. Why did Queen Kalia imprison me? For I know it was her. Only the queen has the authority to imprison other Rajas. But I have scarcely even met her. What am I to her, but another princess?
The next page contained the same handwriting. Today one of the kalpate, the same one who gave me ink and a pen, slipped me another book. I think he pities me, and well he should. But his pity was not of the kind one gives to the infertile. I could tell he considered himself to be in the presence of one who is holy. Promised Daughter, he called me.
Mayah’s hands were shaking. She marked her spot with her finger and closed the covers. She could feel the texture of the pages against her skin. Promised Daughter, he called me.
Promised Daughter.
The words echoed in her mind. Almost as if she’d heard them before. Like a sense-memory of a blessing from long ago. O Promised Daughter. O Promised Daughter.
Mayah did no other cleaning that day. Once she had to drop the journal and kick it under a shelf when two serfs carrying pamphlets passed by her, but she didn’t bother moving from her spot. After they were gone, she knelt, picked up the journal, and resumed reading.
For two days Mayah read, heedless of the risk. She learned how the Lost Princess had defied Queen Kalia during her imprisonment in order to uncover what it meant to be the Promised Daughter. She learned how the Lost Princess had been forced to choose between her twin daughters, one to go to the budding Free Serf movement, and the other to go to Queen Kalia. She learned how the Lost Princess had in her later years designed both Lost Technology’s labyrinth library and the Temple.
After she finished the journal, Mayah moved onto the book next to it. The Lost Princess’ Commentary on the Pilgrimage of the Prophetess Darshana. Mayah had read many commentaries by the Lost Princess before, but never any on religion. The key to the prophecies is the Dome Ring, Chapter 7 said. Our ancestors from Earth could create machine-serfs with electrical souls; the Ring is one of these serfs. While the technology to create such devices is lost to us now, the Dome Ring the queen has is still viable, its power undiminished even after centuries of use.
Its abilities are threefold: first, to test the Rajas population for a queen; second, to catalyze the bio-dome on the Night of the Dome; and third, and most importantly, to test the Rajas population for the Promised Daughter. In the case of the Promised Daughter, the Ring’s inner claws will open upon contact with her skin, piercing her finger and causing blood to flow. This is to fulfill the oracle issued by the Prophetess Darshana:
Over the shelterbelt, the Rajas Daughter who is Promised,
Must go.
Over and to The Lake Tower,
Her feet will tread.
With the Ring of the Dome,
Dripping in her hand.
To be clear, the above is only part of the oracle. It is the most well-known part, but despite what the Famine of the Flowers say, it is only a part. The entirety of the prophecy is reprinted in the appendix.
Slowly Mayah turned to the appendix. There she read again and again the prophecy of the Promised Daughter in full.
***
That night Mayah listened to, without hearing, the accusations and confessions of the call-out session. The words, the weeping, it all washed over her. All she could hear was the drumbeat of her heart, and the same thought, over and over. I am the Promised Daughter. I am the Promised Daughter. I am the Promised Daughter.
So that’s why Sukren loved me.