Blood (Epic of the Mediterranean) [Book 1]

Chapter 5

The chalice wavered with every step. No matter how the center of balance was held, a few drops of wine would surely make their way onto the still untarnished tray. It wasn't that the lord exceptionally preferred to devour himself in liquor. Only, the harvest of grapes for the season had been freshly procured and processed in Lydia. Not that the wine from Zagros was any less in terms of zest, but the Macedonian traditional essence assuredly reminds one that Dionysus was their God. Every year, an acquainted dealer would send it in great amounts as a gift. Nonetheless, he did receive money in return.

Naya sighed. The stairs of the library pavilion now seemed further away, considering the punishment she will receive if the quantity in the brass chalice would be reduced by even a pint. Afternoons were never a lively part of the day, nothing but a dry and barren mediator between the morning and evening. Unwillingly stepping forward, it didn't seem half as unbearable after all. Serving the palace corridors along with Shadi was easier going, it was stressing to be even present in the same room as Asmaka. Nothing was painful, but dealing with his anger wasn't good. Forbidding didn't seem like a synonym to her world, but she sure was curious about why he distasted her till this extent. Then again, there wouldn't be a single royalty in the entire empire who didn't feel this way about her household.

It was easy to get lost while working along with Shadi and Katana, but the reality which she reminded herself of was to figure out a way to join arms with Ziba as soon as possible.

Even though remarkably enormous, the library consisted of just two levels. Still impressive.

The steps led to vast beige hall clustered by hoary timber shelves of compressed wisdom. Dark and iridescent figures, so ardently engraved in the walls, standing at double the height of humans but seeming more detailed than them. Scenes from Ramayana, the prestigious tale of the greatest king, the incarnation of God himself, retold by sculptors so that all those who see could be reminded of it a hundred times. Naya's eyes couldn't have witnessed a greater utopia than this. Ever since she was brought here, never had she been assigned off to the separate pavilions. The army quarters and training grounds were still far away from the main palace. Even though the library was right in the gardens, she didn't get to know about it until recently. Merely placing her foot inside was enough to blow her away. Ah, such grandeur.

'These are their own essence, and the essence of everything else, the stepping stones to me. The eternal truth which shouldn't be forgotten till eternity', the perpetually meditating God Narayan, the name meaning the starting and end of nara or man, revealed to the great saptarishis the holy Veda's. These were to be elucidated in the future for the further understanding to humans, into four sub divisions of Samhitas, Aryankas, Brahmanas and Upanishads. Slowly and eventually, all that one read would keep paving way for something bigger, till he reaches the peak, only to realize the ecstasy of knowing. Wisdom, where he knows no more, hence becomes humble. Returning to God while knowing that God too is him, but only when his spirit has the power to become one with the entire universe. This knowledge would bring humility, a humility and disregard for material world like no other, and also a pleasure so utterly pure that there would be no turning back. Those having arrogance must still have a long way to go. Just by gathering wisdom so avidly, trying to fill your heart with words. Could reading really do this? Well, this is something one can't guess until and unless they try for themselves.

The salver was placed on one of the wooden cabinets as the person assigned to deliver it decided to wander with disregard. Aramaic, Assyrian, Persian, Elamite, Sanskrit and even a few Greek, The diverse manuscripts were placed together in a disorderly manner, a chaotic mess. She could read all of them. Scripts on silk rolled up sophisticatedly and tied up by ribbons but smashed altogether. What would be the use, this way the clarity of the writings would disintegrate slowly, if not reduced to dust with time that is. Naya pressed her fingers against the covers, stopping at a familiar name.