TŪMBṂĀR turned and saw that the looming darkness had vanished. He gulped and exhaled, calming himself and said, “I’ve had many dreams recently. And I can’t remember much of them other than knowing them to be strange yet maybe nostalgic? As if I’d lived out and seen these events. Some of them related to the stories I’ve heard and others were different. I don’t think they’ll stop anytime soon and I wonder if it has to do with this deathly being I see from time to time, but maybe I shouldn’t call him that anymore. His appearance changes at certain points, or at least when I’ve last seen him and he has guided us.”
“Who is this deathly being you see?” asked Aiṛthyavā. “I have oft encountered people with strange dreams—much of them nonsensical—but some have claimed to see visions of things that have already passed or yet to pass. While I cannot speak as to the truth of their words, what you see could very well be related to that.”
“Maybe,” said Tūmbṃār, quietly. But raising his voice, he continued, “But these dreams, visions, whatever you want to call them, they’re different from this being. Sometimes I encounter likenesses of him though certain things in those dreams. And the dreams themselves seem too much real, more real than anything I could imagine. As if I was standing there at that moment watching it.
“But for the being, I don’t who or what he is. Some resemblances I’ve made to others, but maybe that’s just a form that he takes when he’s near me. I know there’re stories of Gods and Celestials that often take forms much different from their original, and I even saw it with Dusdrahaḥ when I was with Iḷēhaḥ in the Heavens.”
“Then I shall ask, what form does he take?” asked Aiṛthyavā.
Hesitation came over him. He felt it would be better to be silent. But he mustered his courage, setting aside any other thoughts, and uttered, “Lūshhaḥ. That’s what he looks like to me.”
A wave of disbelief cross all the members’ faces. They looked to Tūmbṃār with such great surprise, as if someone had died in their presence. Though Tūmbṃār knew that Nakthaḥm alone was acting.
Aiṛthyavā cried, “Do you really mean this to be true! Promise me with a zṣhṭya right now, that you do not lie of him! Many have seen him in visions or dreams, but you claim he has appeared to you even outside that! Promise me right now!”
“I won’t!” shouted Tūmbṃār. “That’s why I said that’s what he looks to me. I don’t know for sure if it’s him. I kept quiet because I knew this would be how you’d react!”
“And why shouldn’t we?” said Feyūnhaḥ, feeling as if she had been betrayed. “It’s not a good thing to speak as if he has come now. Is it not said that when he should return, it shall cause a great cataclysm to befall us—that he should only arrive when the world has truly begun its descent into depravity? Do you mean to tell us that this time out of all others is where that should be so?”
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“She’s right, Tūmbṃār,” said Sanyhaḥmān who was none the happier over this. “Even if that great sage is your teacher, to speak as if the Light has come once more, wouldn’t be something we should take lightly. I at the very least would be inclined to disregard what you have said as mere fancy, for it’s also said he would descend as a sickly babe, looking not all that different from Iḷēhaḥ here, but certainly with greater pallor. But no signs have been made over his appearance.”
Tūmbṃār felt tears welling in his eyes, but he held them back and shouted, “Will none of you trust me? I never said he descended and I myself am unsure of what he is. I don’t mean to mock him, for I love and revere Lūshhaḥ as much as any of you, but this is what I’ve seen.”
Nakthaḥm then said, “I put my trust in the child.”
“Your trust in this matter means nothing, when you’re bound by hand and heart to him,” shouted Feyūnhaḥ. “For as far as we know, Tūmbṃār could’ve unconsciously made you respond as such.”
“Perhaps he did, but I–” he cut himself off, choosing to remain silent. Were he to speak of having seen Lūshhaḥ at time of their battle, they would not necessarily believe it and could lash out at Tūmbṃār for having pressured him.
Tūmbṃār then looked to Yūrmatṛtha and said, “What about you? Will you trust what I say?”
“I cannot say,” said Yūrmatṛtha. “Even I have my doubts on this.”
Hvesykhiḥ and Vrihkhaḥ remained silent, and Tūmbṃār at last turned to Iḷēhaḥ, whose expression became filled with sadness. He would not force her to speak, but knew then that none of them would trust him.
He sighed, wiped his face and said, “Forget I ever spoke of him. But at least the specters are out there and I’ve seen them. The first time was in the desert, where I saw a vision of a great host of armies and Drasūvayeznds fighting one another. It must’ve been the specter’s illusion, but once again I can’t say what’s true anymore. The second time was when we were asleep in the first hall and I walked about the space until I was chased by the specter down that very passage before you. But it’s odd that I ended up here so quickly that night. Maybe it was another illusion, but ultimately I was rescued by what looked like a ghost of Athizhska. Once more, I don’t know if it was an illusion. And now that same specter is following us, or rather me, and I know Iḷēhaḥ at least can sense him.”
To this, she said, “Indeed I can. ’Tis best we not linger here any longer. Let us not question him any further regarding the emanation that guides him. Whether it is Lūshhaḥ does not concern us, for he shall see what he sees. Regardless, that being has guided us thus far, so at least we should be accepting of him to that extent.”
“If that is what the goddess has concluded, then so shall I agree,” said Aiṛthyavā. She came close to Tūmbṃār and said, “We may be angered with your words, but do not think we abhor you for it. It is for your sake that we speak as such. Relate of this to no one else.” Tūmbṃār nodded. “Now rise and put your fear behind you. Even we can sense the malice spewing from the depths of that passage, but we shall not succumb to our fear. You showed great valor and courage when you saved me at the risk of your own life. Show those same qualities now, as I know you have done many times before.”
Tūmbṃār relaxed himself and rose. And standing in lead of the company, they proceeded down the stairs into the dark depths.