The Journal of Dreams (The Tales of Tahana - Book One)

Prologue: The Message

35-4-3-2000 DM, Kadaralahi, Lien Ri, Timaraya

Lara shook her head as she looked at the pile of scrolls on her desk. There was still a lot of work to be done despite the late hour. She had been working with the Mistress and the Master of the House after breaking her fast earlier that day and she barely had an hour of rest since. For the last quarter moon, they had been preparing the Great Temple of the Gods, the Kadaralahi, for the festival of the Autumnal Equinox, which was only five days away. The Mistress and the Master of the House had already retired for the evening a few hours ago, but Lara was still awake, determined to finish as much work as she could before turning in. She was starting to feel a steady throbbing on her temples, a sign that she had to stop working soon. She could see strands of her fine silver hair falling down her forehead. She knew that her hair, which was usually bound tightly in a bun at the back of her head, was starting to come undone. One would not think that she, the Bayanava, Lara Sheri-Mien, Matriarch of the Holy Order and the Sisterhood of the Maya Sherayali, would look so dishevelled. Nobody would see her this late in the evening, however, so she didn't care.

Taking a deep breath, Lara dismissed the thought of her untidy hair and leafed through a few of the scrolls that were piled up on her desk. She opened her thick leather-bound ledger to go through her checklist of tasks when she suddenly gasped! She felt a sharp pain in her temples, as if a pair of fine needles were suddenly jabbed into them. The pain was so sudden and too sharp that it made her eyes water, making her vision blur. She closed her eyes abruptly and forced herself to take slow deep breaths to calm herself, hoping that the pain would go away. After a few minutes, the pain on her temples subsided and was replaced by the steady throbbing that she had felt earlier, which was more manageable. She gently rubbed her eyes, opened them slowly, and looked at the piles of scrolls on her desk. She sighed. If she could just rest for a few minutes, she knew that she would be able to cross out at least one of the items on her checklist. There was still a lot to do and she was starting to feel anxious.

The Sarayaji, Maryo Peri-Antang, usually helped Lara prepare the Kadaralahi for such an important occasion. This time, however, this was far from possible. Maryo went to the capital two days ago at the request of the Dewa Majarani, the High Council of the Divine State of Lien Ri, and he wouldn't be able to return until the day before the festival itself. This meant that, on top of everything else, Lara had to take on some of the Maryo's responsibilities as the Patriarch of the Holy Order and the Brotherhood of the Reja Perayali.

With that wearying thought in her head, Lara closed her eyes and took long deep breaths, smelling the comforting aroma of the burning blackwood logs in the hearth across her desk. After a few minutes, the throbbing in head disappeared completely.

"Oh, thank you, Great Mother," Lara whispered as she slowly opened her eyes to regard peaceful silence around her.

Lara's study was a capacious four-cornered room filled with rich adornments that befit her status as the Bayanava. Looking to her right, about four arms away from the northeast corner of the room, she saw the beckoning polished whitewood double doors, carved with vines and wildflowers, which led to her apartments at the western section of the Kadaralahi. She wanted to run out of her study and bury her face in her soft feather pillows. The soft woollen Timari carpet under her bare feet made her long for her bed even more, but she held herself. She must soldier on for a few minutes more before calling it a night. From the two tall mirrors that stood on both sides of the hearth across her desk, she could see the rows of darkwood shelves filled with books and scrolls in neat arrays at the southern wall at the back of her chair. She moved her gaze towards the panes of silver glass in Silarayan bronze frames that covered the northern half of the western wall. This gave her a magnificent view of the frost-covered lawn and western skies behind the Kamahari Mountains. She could see the thin crescent of the waning moon that hung just above the mountains, which looked like a smiling face urging her to go on. The clear night sky was filled with iridescent lights from the millions of stars of the Suraya, the Eternal Universe, while the snow crickets sang their secret songs from their dark hiding places. She allowed herself to bathe in the solemn beauty of the evening, feeling the loving embrace of the ever-gracious Shalaramai, the Great Mother.