The Allegory Of Triberias: The Call Of Destiny .

The Apprentice

TRIBERIAS,
Eastern Wind,
2413 AA, (After the Great Ascension).

13 years later,

"Half turn in darkness, hearts lost in deepened murkiness. In foggy gloominess the land depart, the sceptre stolen from them that rule. The devouring kindles. The welkin and apple by scarlet are blighted."

The verse had forever baffled her. She could tell what the first section meant, but the last phrases were still a mystery. It bothered her though, as this was not the only verse to ever speak of the ascension. The oracles of the last Great King were many and it always made her wonder if the man had also been a Great or just an oracle of some sort.
Yes, a sin had been committed and as a result, the world below was now shrouded in turmoil. A dark curtain had descended. The penalty for their rebellion and the crime of having shed the anointed blood. That was what the word scarlet meant. After that, the words just got muddled and no one under the Appriser's wing could find the key to this great mystery.
None whatsoever and yet, she still thought about it long after everyone had given up. The scrolls had all been sealed away. The research halted to give room for more fruitful studies. However, she still pursued it though it seemed that she lacked enough sense to abide by the Appriser's directive.
Why could she not let it go? Why was she still holding on to this facet of the past? The questions had been asked a million times and yet, no matter how hard she tried to explain it, no one seemed to get it. No one seemed to understand her single mindedness, or the urge within her that refused to leave the mystery unsolved.
For one the direction of the new studies was totally unnecessary. Ridiculous even when compared to premise of unearthing the secrets that were buried within these ancient tomes. The truth was, it felt like some was missing. Something important and however how much she tried to let go of it, it felt like a tragedy waiting to happen.
"Humans are weak!" her thoughts were violently pushed aside as the man began the introductory oration to their weekly appraising sessions. His voice sounded agitated as usual as he paced the length of the entire room, walking to and fro across the wide expanse of his wider than usual sanctuary office. "Humans are brash, rebellious and forgetful!" she groaned as he articulated each word with a set of cold glimmering eyes directed at her.
He was an elderly man of almost a hundred and thirty, with a balding head that was halfway full of thin greying hair and white pasty skin that was stretched upon a narrow and yet angular face. With his prominent chin and a glimmering set of red hostile eyes that were framed upon a wide and round forehead, the man glowered down at her as he pranced over from one end of the office to the other, where she was now deliberating silently.
"Havillah!" he threatened again and she found herself trembling within the depths of her green and gold Triban robes.
"Havillah!" he reiterated, lifting a bony hand from within the confines of his purple robes that were of the same material as hers and she took a trembling step backwards, praying that this situation was not going to get muddier.
Who was she kidding? She scolded herself for the wishful thinking. The good elder would certainly make her pay. He was that vengeful and for some other reason, she also happened to be the least liked among the Appriser's apprentices in the entire Sanctuary.
"Havillah,"
"Yes, my lord" she quickly remembered her place and bowed, acknowledging his rank over hers that was just but that of a little fledgling.
Slowly, his hand dropped back into his cowl, a heavy floor length cloak that was made up by a shiny silky fabric with golden embroidery woven into the mandarin collar, the floor length hems and the edges of the wide kimono sleeves. Though their robes were both Triban, his fabric was uniquely purple and so glossy that it reflected the very light that had been refracted a million times over by the glowing crystals that were abundant not just in this room, but in the entire Sanctuary as well.
For that was the nature of the Triban robes, reflecting not just one's fortitude but one's Glory and Virtue as well.
Purple spoke of royalty. It was the raiment of kings and the council of elders, but where it should have made him appear illustrious, the colour had a totally different effect despite having the warmth of the crimson hues that had been imbued within it.
With his pale skin and the perpetual scowl that had permanently marked his forehead, the darker shade of purple made him appear cold. Wraith-like even, with his gaunt form, the glimmering set of carnelian eyes that seemed to suck the life out of everything and the multitude of crow's feet that even now clawed upon his eyes and pulled at his thinned lips. All these were a product of his fervent glaring rather than his age that was also quite advanced and very apparent.
"But my lord, aren't we also human?" the words tumbled out of her mouth long before she could prevent them and at this, his eyes glowed red as a sign danger.
"Apologies master." she quickly rectified but it was already too late. The damaged had been incurred and the man was now out for her blood even as he stalked her, gliding about her as though his feet were padding on nothing but air and not the crystalline floors that were glittering beneath them unaware of the carnage that was soon to befall them.
"Apologies." She bowed again and again and again but her master was not to be so easily placated.
"Do not ever compare us to that scum!" he roared. His mouth was now frothing in anger even as his once carnelian eyes, now turned rubies, continued to pierce icicles through her. "We are the Great!" The Great Elder began his war of words that were truly meant to convince himself and not to dissuade his apprentice of the truth that she had just spoken.
"The chosen bloodline!" he orated. "The servants of the Great Light. The Eternal Light! and you must never tarnish our name by comparing us to that scum!"
"Yes.... master." She could only manage a whisper as she lowered her head in the wake of the elder's lingering gaze. The pressure upon her had also increased substantially and her glimmering silver eyes were now wallowing in twin pools of unshed tears even as she tried hard not to whimper. To succumb to the pressure that the Elder was now exerting upon her through his Virtue.
Physically, he was not harming her. No, not yet, but commanding his presence was one of the worst ways through which he could punish her. That and the look of disdain in his eyes that still made her tremble even after being under his wing for a full four years now.
She was practically thirteen years old now, barely a year into her cohort and still, she could not get used to that look. The look of pure hatred that was palpable enough to instil a certain fear within her. A fear that rattled the bones that even now remained concealed beneath the green and gold of her Triban cowl that was so characteristic of her cohort.
As such Havillah could barely manage to lift her head and so, she continued to remain bowed down, too afraid to look into his eyes or say anything that would further serve to agitate the idiosyncrasies of this ill tempered man.
Yes, she was very much aware of his ill temper and yet, her impetuous behaviour and thoughtless speaking always managed to land her into a huge heap of trouble.
How many times had my mother warned her? How many times had she been tasked to keep her mouth shut. To get grip on her loose tongue and yet, somehow, she always managed to slip up and say the very words that she knew well would serve to infuriate the good elder.
He was such an important man and yet, something inside her had always failed to take this in account. However, it was mostly never intentional. As an ambivert, she could very well keep her thoughts to herself, but certain times, under a lot of emotional pressure, she found that she could not help it but let the extrovert within herself steal the show. It did not help that she had always been curious about the human world and this time, just like that other time when she had first been taken in under his wing, her curiosity had once again landed her in a huge heap of trouble.
Now, landing in trouble seemed like a daily occurrence for Havillah and especially when she was continually losing the battle of controlling her tongue in the elder's presence. She had been marked as a result and he spared no effort in showing her what he actually thought of her and her researching efforts.