Clairvoyant
The guards of the synagogue opened the double doors as the King went down the carriage. He entered inside. There was a blue carpet from the door to the altar. The chairs were empty. The dome ceiling was made of transparent glass. The moon was visible from up there as if it was made to illuminate the synagogue.
He walked to the altar. He stood just before the stairs going up the dais which was filled with water as if it was a pond but shallow as the water level did not even reach a foot. The constellations were carved in the wall of the altar. Each star was signified by the glowing blue gemstones.
A black-skinned lady dressed in a white tunic embroidered with golden thread was dancing in the dais. She was moving around a fire in the middle. It was the fire that never burnt out since ancient times thus the synagogue was built around it.
Another lady appeared before the King. Unlike the one dancing in the dais, she was only wearing a plain white tunic and her hair was pulled back in a neat bun having a golden headdress encircled in her forehead. Her skin was not black too, rather almost as white as her tunic.
She bent her knee outward, sweeping one foot behind her and she held her skirt out from her body as she lowered her head before the King. "The mistress is in the middle of a ritus, Your Majesty. Please come back in the morrow," she said.
"Thou dare to send back the King?" He groaned.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. But the ritus spans till midnight," she uttered calmly.
His brows furrowed. "Inform the clairvoyant of my presence," he demanded, his voice hinting annoyance.
Yet the lady remained calm and composed. "Your Majesty, the ritus shall not be interrupted as it is the most sacred of all the sacred," she said. She straightened her posture but kept her stares on the floor. "If you insist in seeking an audience with the mistress," she motioned her hand to the pew chair upfront.
The King scoffed and glared at the lady as he took his steps going to the pew chair she guided.
The lady curtsied again to the King before she went back upstairs with two other women her age. They were all kneeling while their hands were clasped together. Their eyes were shut and they remained like that as the clairvoyant kept dancing the ritus.
King Emir watched the movements of the mistress. It was graceful and slow. She was careful in each motion. Her eyes were closed yet she knew were to land as if she had performed the dance a thousand times. There was no music accompanying her but the King felt as if the fire and the water were humming along with her movements.
It was an eerie sort of tranquillity as if the dance whispered secretly to him. The passing hours went unnoticeable as the King found himself in utter peace while observing the clairvoyant.
At last, bells began ringing and the moonlight had shifted its direction. Midnight, then, had fallen.
The mistress opened her eyes as she did the last movement of the ritus. She was softly panting. She straightened her posture and turned her back from the constellations and went out of the dais. One of her ladies patted a cloth in her face to wipe drops of sweat. Her black skin radiated albeit the synagogue was barely lit. She laid her eyes to the King and flashed a smile. She walked down the steps.
The King stood up and waited for the clairvoyant.
"I fear you'll anger the Queen," she said as she halted and curtsied in the front of him. She stepped one foot closer and laid her fingers on his shoulders. "Once again, you left her alone in your lonely and cold abode." She tiptoed and positioned her mouth just an inch from his ears. "You are a bad spouse, My King," she whispered.
King Emir turned his face to her. One move and their lips would have touched. He lowered his gaze to her lips. "This is not a good place to talk," he mumbled.
The clairvoyant grabbed his arms and slowly pulled them upwards. Then, she began walking backward.
The King smirked and followed her steps.
Luna, the white-skinned lady, abruptly raised her bowing head and followed the two with her gaze. From her position, she saw them entering the oak passageway.
It led to a fully lighted corridor. At the end of it was another door. When they arrived at its front, the mistress groped the knob and pressed it down. It swung open and she entered, still pulling the King.
Her chamber was pure white with crystals scattered as decorations. The walls were full of carvings of symbols in an ancient alphabet. When the King had crossed the doorway, he pushed the door shutting it.
Luna and the other ladies, who remained on the stairs of the dais, heard the loud bang of the door. Luna straightened her posture and ordered the ladies to clean up the altar. She glanced at the passageway and she simpered.
Meanwhile, the mistress pushed the King into her soft mattress.
She climbed up onto his top but as soon as she did, the King grabbed him and pushed her down turning himself above her instead. The mistress squeaked but chuckled.
The King lowered his face to hers. He let their lips touched. He bit it and finally, immersed it into a kiss.
The clairvoyant moaned. She wrapped her hands in his neck, pulling him closer, and deepened the kiss.
***
Lazmet was reading a book across his small rectangular table in his chamber. Beside him was the path leading to his balcony. It was open and the wind breeze made the heavy royal blue curtains sway. The wind whistled once more. He closed his book and stared at the fireplace on the other side of the room as a marigold scent lingered in his nose.
"The King visited the synagogue," a voice as if it came from an angel spoke near him.
"Luna," the prince uttered and he turned his face to the balcony. The curtains kept swaying along with the wind but he managed to see a lady wearing a dark cloak over a white tunic dress. The shadow of the hood covered her face making only her plum lips visible. "Why did he come?" He asked.
"It seemed like he just went there for her," she answered.
Lazmet scoffed. "Seemed."
But it sounded like a question to Luna's ears. She lifted her lips into a smile and the prince sighed before he stood up and grabbed her hand to pull her inside. She put down her hood.
Her face came into light and Lazmet momentarily dazed. Striking gray eyes, reddish-brown hair, high cheekbones, full but turned down lips, strong jaw, upturned nose, and her shimmering porcelain skin.
"You look at me as if your lips savor mine," Luna mumbled and moved her hand to his face letting her fingertips touched his cheek.
The prince flinched in her touch and he closed his eyes.
Luna brushed her lips beside his lips. "But I must warn you, I saw the palace tower being struck by lightning in my visions. You had been thrown out of the loop," she whispered.
Lazmet opened his eyes as if he was slapped back to reality. He moved away from her. "What does it mean?" He asked.
"Your harmony shall be destroyed," she uttered. She walked toward his bed and sat against the soft mattress.
Lazmet gawked at her every movement.
"And the vision occurred as the King and the headmistress paved their way in her chamber. You know what that means, do you not?" added she.
The Prince shifted his posture so that he was standing just across her. "The King must have commanded her to do something and it shall be the cause of my downfall," he uttered.
"Mm-hmm," she agreed remaining her mouth shut. "What are you going to do now?" She asked.
Lazmet stepped forward moving nearer to her. "What else?" he began. He bent his body to meet her face at the same level and he lifted her chin. "I shall make thee the owner of the synagogue," he uttered.
Their nose touched and the prince brushed his in hers.
"My Prince," she said as she pushed his shoulders away from her.
Lazmet grimaced. "What is the matter?" He asked her.
"Don't tell me-
"Indeed, it is." Lazmet straightened his posture yet remained to gaze at her eyes. "Attend the orare," he said, firmly.
Luna sighed. "You know, I cannot."
"Why not? It is about time to reveal the truth," he said having his brows furrowed.
"If I showed up before the people, I'll be as luminous as the blue moon in the sky whilst the headmistress won't. They'll question her prowess," she argued.
"Precisely. No one will believe anything she has to say any longer. Rather, they'll curse her for lying throughout all seasons and they'll put all of their confidence in you."
Luna shook her head. "I can't," she muttered. "I can't do that to her," she reiterated louder. "And furthermore, she never lied."
Lazmet simpered. "Everything she had proclaimed in the past seasons was not from her own but thy divination. If that wasn't lying, then what is?"
"You don't understand. It doesn't matter who sees which," she spoke, almost shouting. "She never did it against my will and she never claimed it was her visions. The people just assumed that she did."
"Albeit, she kept nonchalant about it. She still fooled everyone. The truth is, she was no clairvoyant," Lazmet countered.
Luna looked away from the prince. "No, she is a clairvoyant."
"Luna-
"There is something I have never told you," she said giving back her stares to him.
Lazmet was frowning as he waited for her to speak.
"People have misconceptions about us. They believe that we, clairvoyants, are only gifted with visions of the future. Certainly, it was our fault that they did. Howbeit, we kept our reverence like that for us to survive," she began.
Lazmet did not say anything. He just kept his gaze on her.
"Clairvoyants are not just seers. Our kind has variations. Some could see the future, others could see the past. Whilst, there are few who could witness the happenings in a certain place in the present time although they were not there," Luna explained. "We can't let everyone know our true nature as doing so shall peril several of our kind. Our prowess could reveal thousands of underlying secrets and people will kill trying to keep those hidden. We are outnumbered as it is, we could not risk more."
"Then, why risk telling me all these?" Lazmet asked.
"Because I trust you," she answered.
For a moment, Lazmet was taken aback as she uttered the words not even a second later after he questioned her. It was like she was so sure of it. She did not even pause nor wavered. She firmly said it, trust.
When Lazmet spoke nothing as a response, Luna opened her mouth again. "Everything that the headmistress did was for the benefit of the synagogue. She had endured a lot to keep the clairvoyants alive. I will never turn against her no matter the circumstances," she said.
Lazmet left out an abrupt but short laugh. "Thou are here with me whilst the headmistress is with the King. That alone is betrayal," he said.
"No, My Prince. Your war is not our war."
"Even if thou say it isn't, the two of thou are already caught up in the middle. Soon, thy whole kind has to choose a side for thy survival. I am guessing it won't be mine given the fate thou, thyself, have seen in me," the prince muttered.
Luna opened her mouth to speak yet closed it again as her thoughts betrayed her. What Lazmet had said was true. Even if she convinced the headmistress, the latter would never approve of her reasons. Rather, she would only shut her out.
Lazmet gawked at her as she blinked faster and nervously sighed. The utter confidence she prevailed when she said she trusted him was gone. The unstable movement of her eyes hinted the turmoil occurring inside her head. Lazmet saw it all - her frustration.
Luna felt unease with his gaze. His golden eyes were judging her whether she was an ally or a foe. "O, My Prince. Please do not look at me like that," she said feeling a lump in her throat.
But Lazmet did not falter. He kept her stares at her. "Let me ask thou this once," he said. "Why do thou trust me despite the horrendous fate that awaits me?"
Luna's sight fell on the floor. She lifted her lips in a tiny smile and said, "You are the most righteous person I've ever met. I believe the great moon goddess, Mayari, did not show me your divination to cause fear and hate. Rather, she wants me to guide you until the last day of your life so that your goodness will never be tainted with any evil and avoid the horrendous fate."
Lazmet looked away and simpered. "Righteous, thou said."
Luna grabbed his hands and held them closer to her chest. "Have no worry, My Prince. I'll talk some sense to our headmistress," she said.
Lazmet shifted his gaze to her again. "O, she won't listen. I bet my divination shall be revealed in the orare for everyone in Ophir to hear. Shall that happen and all people will cast me out," he said.
"No, My Prince."
"If thou continue refusing to oust the headmistress, then, no doubt, it shall happen," Lazmet urged.
"I meant, no, she would not reveal your fate," Luna uttered. "Not while the King lives," she murmured as her sight moved in different directions again.
Lazmet frowned. He stepped a foot closer to her. "What more are thou hiding from me, Luna?" He held her chin and lifted it. "Hmm?"
Luna gulped and gently removed his hand from her chin. She looked away. "I've told quite much to you today, Your Highness. I dare not to speak more," she said.
"I thought thou trust me."
"I do. But—
"Then, tell me."
Luna stared at him for a moment.
Lazmet touched her cheeks. "Tell me, My Love."
Luna's eyes widened. "W-what d-did y-you—
She hiccupped.
Lazmet chuckled. He straightened her posture while Luna covered her lips with her hands. Her porcelain skin flushed a pinkish hue and Lazmet continued to laugh.
"My Love," he reiterated.
But Luna emitted the peculiar sound louder.
"Want me to cease that?" Lazmet asked.
Luna nodded fast.
Lazmet sat beside her, facing her. "If I did, thou shall unveil that something from my divination," he bargained.
Luna was about to shake her head when she jittery inhaled once more, making her nod instead.
The Prince grabbed her head and kissed her lips. His eyes were shut while Luna's were wide open in the act. He, then, slowly moved apart from her lips but still kept a near distance.
"It stopped," Lazmet uttered.
Luna groped her neck and gasped. "It really did."
"It is thy turn now. Tell me what I ought to know."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Footnotes:
Synagogue - church/shrine
Curtsy / curtsied - paying respects/bowing version for women/ bending the knee outward, sweeping one foot behind her and she held her skirt out from her body as she lowered her head
Ritus - sacred ritual with no music
Orare - sacred ritual in a presence of a blue moon with music.