Viggo had been through enough to understand that some things were not in his power to change, and simply had to be made the best of. So he adjusted to the stress and found ways to enjoy life with his mother and be as happy as possible. Precious were the truly happy moments in which they forgot that time was running out, and those moments were needed to strengthen and recharge them to get through the difficult stretches.
Since Alethes had found the eliera, music had become a regular part of life on the hill by Battle Creek. Often evenings were spent in the front room, Epifany resting on the couch while Alethes played the eliera and Viggo played a sort of wind instrument he'd made out of seven bamboo pipes as a kid and named a "sahnis." It was a combination of Miran and Kharman words meaning "wind, spirit, breath of life."
Before now, Viggo hadn't played his sahnis for a long time. He'd been so encumbered with his responsibilities and stresses that he hadn't made special time for music. He'd grown so serious that he'd lost himself in a way, forgotten the guy he used to be. On the surface, it was only music. But as he played the melodies he'd composed in easier times, he remembered the simplicity and joy that had inspired them, the hope that had driven him through the dark times, the depth of thought and emotion and growth that was so freely expressed through the music. And the mental, emotional, and spiritual pressures that weighed on him were released with every breath he breathed into the pipes of his sahnis. And though he still carried a heavy burden, he'd begun to carry it an easier way. Though the natural feelings were still there - the recurring cycle of happiness, confusion, sadness, and anger - he was able to express and understand them better.
He wished he could hear his mother play the eliera again, but by now it was too difficult for her weak arms to even hold the thing for more than a few seconds. If she had the energy, however, she would sing along to songs she knew. Alethes would sing and accompany on the eliera, and Viggo would harmonize on his sahnis. Eventually, Epifany would usually fall asleep, and Viggo and Alethes would have deep conversations. One time he asked her, "Don't you ever worry about where you're supposed to be, and your family or whoever?"
"Sometimes," Alethes said. "But it can't be helped. So I might as well be as helpful as possible here with you people. But I don't know," she said thoughtfully, "I just have this feeling that I am where I'm supposed to be right now. Does that make any sense?"
"Well you wouldn't be here if it weren't destiny," Viggo agreed.
"I have these strange dreams though," she said, "like a recurring dream. Sometimes I think it's just a weird symptom of the concussion. But every time I dream it, it feels so real and so serious."
"Sounds intriguing," he said. "Do tell."
"Well, I'm laying on the hard ground in the woods," she began, "and I feel so confused. My head hurts, and all I can think about is that I have some important duty that I need to get up and do. But I can't get up. It's like I have a heavy burden of some sort that weighs me down so much that trying to move at all is so difficult I just can't handle it. And eventually it ends."
"So," he said, "it's exactly the same every time?"
"Not quite," she said. "It used to be dark in the woods, like it was night. But it seems like every time I have the dream, it's a little brighter. The sun keeps getting closer to the middle of the sky now, and it blinds me until all I see is white light, and then the dream's over. And I'm left with this serious feeling that I need to do my duty, and that if I don't do it, no one will. But I'm not sure what it is."
Viggo sat thoughtfully, taking it all in, so she went on, "Sometimes I feel like I could have left it to someone else to do, someone more qualified. But like it's too late. Like I've started something I have to finish. I don't know, it's so confusing. It might not mean anything anyway."
"Maybe," Viggo said. "But it would be good to find out. At any rate, your dreams are interesting. Do you have any others to tell?" He smiled.
Alethes laughed. "As bad as that one is, it's probably more interesting than any of the other ones. I'm always dreaming I'm in this house trying to figure out who I am. Go figure." They both laughed.
"At least we know a lot more about you than we did when you first came here," Viggo said. "Tether was convinced you weren't Miran as soon as she saw you didn't have your mark, and I assumed so too. Do you have any explanation for that?"
"Well," she said, "it seems to me that the new life mark isn't serving the purpose it was originally meant to serve. I'm not sure how to explain it." She paused, then went on, "Okay, so tell me in your own words what a new life mark is for."
"It's a symbol to remind us of our choice to follow Gadriel's example," he answered simply.
"Yeah," she said. "And almost two centuries ago, when the early Mirans first started wearing them, they had to rise above a fear of what others would think of them. Bearing the mark strengthened them, because it meant they were different, like Gadriel was different when he was here, and they learned not to be ashamed of being different. But now, Miras has grown and developed so much as a kingdom and life has become so easy compared to the times of persecution and prejudice, it just doesn't have the same meaning."
"Yes!" Viggo agreed enthusiastically. "I haven't been able to put my finger on it, but I just haven't wanted to get my mark because I just can't seem to be like other Mirans, don't seem to want to. It just wouldn't feel real to me if I just went ahead and got it. If I did it, it would be so I could fit in. And that would feel so wrong, like a symbol of compromise instead of commitment."
"Exactly!" Alethes laughed, throwing her palms out for emphasis. "The history is truly beautiful if you look into it. But things have changed. Now people can do the right things for the wrong motives. Mirans live to impress the other Mirans surrounding them. We all sing the new life song and it mentions forsaking the surface and looking within, but these days people get their mark and look committed on the surface while neglecting the inner condition of their hearts. How does that even make sense?"
Viggo was thrilled to be talking with someone other than just his mother and Gadriel who actually understood the same things that were on his mind - thoughts that had been developing for years. He ventured to touch another subject: "Do you remember Narsil's warnings that eventually Miras would close its eyes to the truth and fall asleep?"
"Yes," Alethes answered.
"And she said that history would repeat itself and that we would need to beware. What are your thoughts on that?"
She laughed. "I might have a lot of thoughts on that. Do you want to be more specific?"
He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Not really. I'm just curious about how you see the application of her warnings."
She hesitated, then said, "I'm going to say something I don't think many Mirans would accept, but I think you'll at least see where I'm coming from whether you agree with the whole thing or not. So do you remember the exact words of warning about Arria?"
He nodded and recited,
"A time of prosperity shall descend upon our land. But be not deceived. That same spirit of Arria shall endure and the true children of light will be oppressed yet again before we can live in harmony in the everlasting Kingdom of Light."
Alethes went on, "So basically everyone sums it up by saying that every kingdom will unite with the Arrian king in forcing their people to worship him under every half moon. This will test our characters, and then Gadriel will come at last to take us to the Kingdom of Light. But I think that while that line of thinking made sense then because various kingdoms were still enforcing half moon worship when Miras was born, it doesn't make sense anymore. No king of Arria has had that kind of influence over legislature since way back then. People started believing in religious freedom and the world has changed. I think that sometimes Gadriel inspired Narsil to speak in vague words so we could solve them later like riddles when we were ready to understand."
"So let me get this straight," he said, scratching his head, "you're thinking the warning about Arria applies to something else instead?"
"Well it doesn't say Arria," she said, "it says 'the spirit of Arria,' right? What could that mean?"
Viggo smiled in understanding. "Well that would be the spirit of control and oppression. That happens on a personal level between individuals." His smile faded as he looked at his mother sleeping. "I know it all too well. My dad had that spirit of Arria, and my mother had to stand up to him, which was a very difficult test of character for her."
"Right," Alethes said. "So what makes the real difference in life? Rituals, or relationships? Creeds, or character? And if it's been prophesied that our characters would be tested, doesn't it make sense that our struggles would be personal, like what's happened in your family?"
Nodding and touching his chin thoughtfully, Viggo added, "And while Mirans everywhere are all waiting to stand up to Arria, who hasn't even been a threat since the time of our ancestors, they're failing the true tests of character in their everyday lives - the battle to overcome their own personal weaknesses and faults. They've made Arria the scapegoat now."
"Yes," she said earnestly, then asked, "Do you want to hear a dream I had when I was a teenager?"
"Definitely," he answered.
"Some of my memories still make no sense to me or they're vague, but right now I remember this clear as day," she began. "I dreamed there was a pure white mare that had escaped from a cruel master and now lived in the wilderness. She was so majestic, so beautiful, dignified. I was so happy that she was free. Then I saw a dark mare that resembled a dragon. It was grotesque and disfigured. I was afraid and hid behind a tree, but then it attacked and devoured the white horse. I was horrified and felt powerless to do anything to stop such a monster. But then I saw that the white horse had a foal not far from where I was hiding. It was so helpless, but the beast hadn't noticed it yet. I thought there was a chance I could save it if I could lead it away without the beast noticing. So I got the foal to follow me. I looked back at the dark horse, and to my shock, it changed into the form of the white horse it had so brutally murdered and eaten. It looked just like her, standing in her place, and I could have been deceived if it weren't for the blood still on its mouth, staining the pure white coat. I was sad and shocked about the whole thing, but I felt that it was my duty to take care of the foal that was all that was left of its mother. So I took it home and loved it as my own horse."
"It sounds very symbolic," Viggo said. He was beginning to think there was a lot more to Alethes than he could fully understand. But he wanted to.
"What we were talking about reminded me of the dream," she said. "I think it was symbolic. I think the white mare was a symbol of Miras, pure and free and full of light."
"But that light was swallowed up in darkness," Viggo said.
"And yet it appears to be the same pure light that it once was."
"But not all is lost," he said earnestly. "A new light was born and has survived the crisis Narsil warned about - the slumber."
Alethes smiled and narrowed her eyes adventurously. "It's about time for an awakening."
"I want nothing more," Viggo said with an almost mischievous smile. "When do we start?"
She laughed. "It's good to know I'm not alone in this."
"I know what you mean," he said. "Sometimes people get on my case just because I don't have my mark. Things like that have made me feel so alone - depressingly, sometimes. Growing up, I always loved my Miran heritage. And I still do. I'll always be a Miran. But I lost my interest a long time ago in the things most of my people make such a fuss about. I can't even tell you how encouraging it is to see at least one other person who understands."
Alethes smiled happily, then teased, "But they're right, you know. We should go ahead and finally get our marks. We can go into it together for support. I'll get mine on my wrist, and you can get yours below your ear."
Viggo laughed at her bending of the rules. "Somehow I don't think that'll satisfy them. But it might satisfy me."
The two laughed and enjoyed each other's company, talking late into the night. When at last they each went to bed, it took some time for Viggo's mind to wind down from the excitement enough to fall asleep. At his lowest point in life, Gadriel had sent him a true companion. She seemed to have come out of nowhere, and he was still a little shocked that she even existed, that there was anyone else in the world who shared the same thoughts and concerns that occupied his mind. Someone patriotic, but not delusional - who like him truly cherished his heritage enough to want to preserve the best in it while seeing room for progression. When she spoke, his thoughts were brought into harmony and clarity, and his life made more sense and felt more right with her in it.
There was something special about Alethes, something that made him feel like he'd known her his entire life - and wish he had. He felt that if they worked together, they could actually have a chance of bringing that awakening to the sleeping kingdom. It was a hope he'd dreamed of for so long, but that had always seemed out of reach. No one seemed to see the need for change. But maybe there really were other open minds out there, just waiting to hear the call of the awakening. He could see them in his mind's eye, gathering like an army for a revolution. He could hear their footsteps as they marched, united under one banner instead of scattered with the winds of empty philosophies and meaningless goals.
It was strange. It reminded him of the early history of Miras, when Narsil united the young kingdom and led the people to thrive in a better way of living. She was gifted early in her life with symbolic dreams that gave her people an understanding of Gadriel's leading, of destiny. What if Alethes was on a similar path? She'd had at least one symbolic dream that he knew of, and perhaps more that she hadn't told him. He wondered what life and history were hiding from her behind the curtains of her amnesia, wondered if she knew she was a seer, because surely she was. But then, he wondered, maybe it isn't so much the memories hiding from her. What if Alethes is hiding from the memories?
It was all a mystery to figure out, and it kept his mind off his worries for the night. But he woke up earlier than he wanted to, unable to sleep because his worries had caught up with him. Truly, he whispered to Gadriel, my life would be so happy and full if Ma were only well. As it was, beyond the anxiety of not knowing how many more weeks he would have his mother, he worried that Ajnin and Drea wouldn't come in time. It was almost June already, and he had sent for them in March. He knew it could take a month for the letter to reach them, and another month for them to travel from Chang Khu to Battle Creek. But now it had been about two weeks longer than even that.
And then there was his dad. Viggo's concern wasn't that his mother and father wouldn't see each other before she died. He was concerned that his father was the only one who could cheer her up enough to fight off what was killing her, what had been killing her for years - concerned that his father could bring her back to life, but would not humble himself until it would be too late and she would be gone. Viggo was so worn down by now that he wasn't even angry with his father. He just hoped for his mother's sake that he was on his way to Battle Creek with a humble heart.