Mirror of the Past

Sala 3- Maps of the Past

Closing the door to her apartment behind her with her foot, Sala set the bags of groceries she was carrying on the table in the middle of the room. She turned back and turned the lock of her door. The university separated the apartments into male and female only buildings, but she still didn't like the idea of someone walking in unannounced, even Daliana, who always seemed to know and appear when she hadn't the door locked, leading to some embarrassing encounters.

Each of the apartments were almost identical, a living area with a couch big enough for three to sit on, or one tired Daliana with a table for eating in the middle of the room. At the back were cupboards for storing food, and a bench for preparing food. On the other side of the room was a window with a desk, chair beside the window so Sala could look down onto the courtyard of the university in the sun or when it rained, a small garden and fountain in the middle making the area seem less bland.

Her apartment had two side rooms, a bedroom which housed a wide bed and a few cabinets for her clothing, mainly university attire and various dresses, and a bathroom and toilet suite that Daliana frequently used because Sala's water was apparently hotter than the water of her own shower a few doors down the hallway.

Sala made her way into her bedroom and quickly changed out of the tight fitting university attire, grey shirt, skirt and skinnings, into her more comfortable black shorts and a top that left her arms bare. Walking barefoot into her living room she packed away the groceries she had bought in the farmer's market after finishing her lunch with Daliana. Fruit and vegetables for breakfast and snacks during the day. Some beef for her dinner tonight, and some milk candies that she and Daliana loved to eat together on rainy days where they would just sit and read their separate books together the silence as comfortable as a blanket around them.

Once she was finished she moved to her desk. One drawer held numerous loose empty sheaths of paper and her ink and pen set. Another held her prized book The fall of religion. Which was both a history book and one containing speculative essays from a range of authors. The book she had travelled with and read at least a dozen times. It brought her to learn history in the University of Kanal. It taught her how the Gods had been destroyed by one of their own and how the High King up in Parrah had, after receiving help from one of the Gods themselves, banished religion from his kingdom, culling the once loyal priests and spurning all that had been given to him by the Gods. It was a tragic tale that often made Sala weep with the authors detailing how they had felt banished by their own kingdom, made villains by choosing a faith that was deep in their hearts, and how many had left the country and the High King because of this.

On the top of the desk held the book Horal had lent her. Maps of Eastern Kanal from the wider region to specific areas of the desert before and after the fall of the Gods.

She opened the book and took out a few sheaths of ink and her writing set. Skimming to the page she left off, a map of the City of Angels, she began copying the map onto the paper beside her, every line identical to that of the book. Lines became borders, cliffs, mountains and valleys. Rivers and once-used roads were born, connecting the cities together as had been their purpose of being built. Lakes and forests populated the page, but were no long dried up or burnt away. She drew, and she felt the past becoming alive, if just for a moment because of her.

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A sun hand's breadth later, she packed her writing set away, folded the book over and set it to the side and stood up, taking the new map tenderly between her fingers she walked into her bedroom. Setting the paper on her bed, she pulled out two cases from below her bed and opened the first of them. One more to the collection. She thought with a faint smile on her lips. Placing the map in the case, on top of several dozen others she closed it and put it back under her bed.

Opening the other case, she pulled out the contents and spread them on the bed in front of her. Three candles of differing colours and scents. One purple and smelling of lavender, another red based off rose extract and a blue jasmine flower. Next, she pulled out a bag of incense powder. Finally, she pulled a small purse full of coins and jewels, checking the contents to ensure she still had enough money to live on she replaced it. Taking the rest of the items into the living area she set the candles on the table, in the positions of the points of a triangle, the length between each candle equal.

Laying down on her couch, she opened up the bag of incense and waited. Willing it, the air around her shimmered briefly and flames licked the top of each of the candles. Almost immediately bringing their scents mingling together throughout the room. She then pulled a pinch of the incense powder out, letting the bag lay on her chest.

Throwing the powder into the air above her, the air shimmered and the powder went up in flames. A thick smoke assaulted her and she breathed it in, deep into her lungs. As her mind began to loosen and unwind she muttered her prayer. "Oh God, hear me please. Show me, Father, the way of my path. Lead me down unfamiliar routes to where my journey ends. Show me my purpose and I'll show you my faith. Tonight God, show me where to go."

The air shimmered around her again, the candles going out, the smoke in the air dissipating instantly and the chains to her mind reeling it back and holding it firmly. I hate doing this. She thought, coughing into her shirt, as she sat up, setting the bag of incense on the table beside her. I really do. She moved the candles once again into the bedroom, replacing them and the incense into the case. She then sat for a moment on the bed composing herself. Most priests spend days feeling the ill effects of the powder on their minds. Many turn insane from frequent use. I hope I don't do the same. She knew the practise in this city was frowned upon, but not illegal as it was up in in Northern Parrah.

The dreams would come tonight, like they did every week when she asked for them. The dreams Rayl sent her that showed her where she was needed. She would fulfil her duty to her god and make sure she pleased him. They had taken her to Kerda, and to the university. It was in these dreams she saw Horal and attended his class because of them. The dreams also brought her to Daliana, and for that alone she was immeasurably grateful for.

Sala placed the case under her bed again, and stood up. Walking into the kitchen area she began to prepare her dinner, thinking of where to take Daliana dress shopping. A smile touched her lips again as she thought of her friend looking gorgeous in a lovely black dress, her make-up and hair done up beautifully. It would be a night to remember, she was certain.

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