When Cassian turned sixteen, nearing the end of his basic and secondary education and before higher education, the Council of Naësu suggested he perform the ritual. Cassian already knew that his specific animal was the scorpion from a vision his mother had when she was pregnant with him. In this same vision, she had seen him emerging with a sword in hand from a collapsing building. Not much interpretation was given to it, but it was part of the legend surrounding Cassian. It was also said that Dianthe, his mother, was not truly nyasuk but another earlier race, ahnsuk, known for their supernatural intuition, and that was why Cassian had epilepsy; because his mind was between the higher, incorporeal worlds and this one. Cassian paid no attention to these rumors. He would have liked his mother to live so he could ask her all these questions.
On the day of the ritual, the subjects were posted outside the fortress of Argos, the capital of Naësu and strategic deliberation center, which served as Cassian's home during his early years. There were stakes with ribbons of different colors, and the atmosphere was more relaxed and festive than anything else. The nyasuk wore light, airy fabrics, and the warm, gentle air invited them to be outside. It was amidst the fields and forests where Ezra used to hunt in life.
The enormous and lush tree canopies swayed with a gentle breeze. Some young nyasuk with gauze and cotton dresses, and ribbons of different colors on their wrists, stepped forward to form the arch with two rods, making an angle for Cassian to pass under. They firmly planted the rods and stepped aside.
The Sage of Cycles took the floor and stood behind the arch but without passing through it, in front of the entire congregation.
"Brothers and sisters, the day has come when one of us passes through the portal. Let us all await him on the other side. May the Ancients give us clarity in thought and word today to open the portal, to bring the visions our brother needs and are most beneficial to him. On this sacred day, we surrender ourselves to the God and Goddess."
The nyasuk, including Cassian, held hands and formed a circle that also partially included the arch and portal; the nyasuk next to the rods touched them, as if transmitting their energy.
"May this transition be of benefit to you, Cassian."
Cassian looked straight ahead, where the Sage of Cycles stood at the back, and ahead of that, the stakes forming the angle through which he had to pass. He took slow, conscious steps. His black hair waved in the gentle breeze. The air inside the portal did not seem particularly distorted, and he could see clearly toward the Sage, but there was something different about that space, and his body was warning him. He felt it with his pores. As if he were crossing to the other side of the mirror.
The nyasuk began to vibrate, as if their auras were emitting energy directed towards the sky and the portal. They were not making any sound, but they were on the same frequency.
Cassian placed his right foot inside the portal, and he felt as if the earth or the sky swallowed him. He wasn't quite sure. But something sucked him out of reality.
First, he saw the silhouette of his shadow against the sand, in the desert. He wondered if it was Sigma. Then he saw dew drops falling against a fogged—up glass with humidity and heat. The vastness of space. Every image that came was so detailed that it overwhelmed his senses, loaded them with sensations and perceptions until he was saturated. The granularity of a white substance, like sugar: he saw it very closely, almost becoming part of it.
He was now on the throne, next to the Council. The huge skylight was above his head, and he felt the weight of the crown. His hands were cold and his nails strangely purple. To his right was his sword, Gram. It looked recently used and worn out. He felt tired, exhausted. A man dressed in the official attire of Naësu was asking him for authorization for something.
— We are ready to attack Éfesis whenever you say, Your Majesty.
Seeing that Cassian did not respond, the man continued speaking.
—The insolence of Éfesis and the colonies in not recognizing your mandate and legitimacy is unprecedented. We will set an example and put them in their place.
Why was this man, who seemed noble and part of his retinue, so determined to attack Éfesis, a planet that had always preferred collaboration and diplomacy rather than engaging in disputes? What had happened? He began to look for clues around him. With each second, Gram seemed more worn out and blunt, and his own hands more bony and aged. He looked at the Council, but no one dared to speak to him. On the contrary, they were waiting for him to say something. He did not give in.
—No — said sixteen-year-old Cassian through a thirty-two year-old body — I would rather choose death.
The members of the Council began to murmur among themselves. The man appeared deeply dissatisfied. He brought a hand to his face and began to melt, as if he were made of wax, a mask.
Cassian felt nauseous. He gripped Gram to give himself strength and avoid vomiting, and looked at his feet and his belly. He was in armor. Everything distorted until it disappeared.
He was now by the bank of a river. He tried to see if he recognized anything around him, but he had never been in this place before. There were huge willows by the water and lilies, and water lilies. A woman with hair as black as his was sitting with her back to him, cross—legged on the grass, wearing a very light dress that fell to the sides. He approached her and realized that far from being the older man, he was now younger in age. He felt his steps unsteady and wavering, and he wanted to speak but did not know how to express himself. He placed a hand over his mouth to see if his jaw and teeth were in place or if there was really nothing.
The woman turned around with a magical smile. It was his mother. She opened her arms and drew him to her. He felt himself sinking into her lap and that instead of having his normal size, he was becoming smaller and more helpless in her arms. He sensed her soft scent.
— Cassian — she said sweetly — You have arrived. I am happy for you.
His mother opened his hand, which was now like that of a baby.
—I am going to give you a gift. Do not be afraid.
His mother picked up a black scorpion from the grass, extending arms that seemed eternal toward the grass, and Cassian almost fainted from panic. He thought that this creature might sting his mother and wanted to protect her. He was not ready to lose her again.
—Do not be afraid, Cassian. It is true that it can cause harm. Do you understand?
Dianthe took the scorpion and it began to walk confidently on her arm and on her dress.
—But it chooses not to.
Cassian gradually began to trust her and the environment, with reluctance but opening up to the experience. He concluded that if he heard his mother's voice, nothing could go wrong. He remembered having been in her arms before. He even remembered the warmth, the feeling of being welcomed into her. When he thought about it carefully, there was no reason to be afraid. His mother was timeless: she was present in that circular time, from now and forever. His mother continued to live through him.
The scorpion walked up and down on his mother's arm, oblivious to any other event. His first impulse had been to eliminate something so dangerous, to avoid that potential risk. But there was no reason to believe in such a violent end. He let it be and become part of that core of affection and understanding that had formed between him and his mother.
His mother gave him a kiss on the forehead, and that kiss returned him to Argos, blending everything into soft colors, until he saw the ribbons tied around the stakes once more.
It took him a while to regain his balance. He looked at the faces of his siblings and in front of him, at the face of the Sage of Cycles. Apparently, something had happened.
—Cassian, my son. We are glad you have returned. For a moment, we did not see you.
Did the Sage mean that he disappeared into the ether? He found it hard to believe. His body felt as if he had just finished a strenuous run and had stopped abruptly. The young women's faces were tinged with curiosity and fear, and they touched each other's shoulders. The nyasuk were still holding hands, but now their contact was more tense.
—The vision you had is exclusively for you, my son. Only you know what teachings it holds for you and by extension for this land.
Cassian resolved to analyze these visions. He was not the same as when he crossed the portal. He felt more complete, as if the portal had returned a part of him that he had been missing or had not recognized before. His mother, or her figure, had communicated an important lesson. Despite having the power to destroy everything around him, blindly driven by an ideal of control or order, he should always choose not to cause harm. Now it was clear to him, and he felt that all the pieces were falling into place. And there was something more, what that terrifying scene had suggested to him, but he could not pinpoint that lesson.
Surely when he remembered these visions again, he would gain even more insights. This experience was designed to be lived only once in a lifetime, but its repercussions would probably accompany him for the rest of his days.
His body felt strange. His hands were young once more, adolescent. But his mind felt older, almost ancient, and his heart was childlike, like that of an infant.
—It is an honor to have been present on this significant day for Your Majesty. We are part of nature, just as it is part of us. As you return to your tasks, remember to revere and respect, in all your actions, the God and the Goddess.
The nyasuk made a deep bow and then began to join together, making the circle smaller and smaller, once again closing their eyes as they decreased the circle's diameter. The Sage with his staff closed the portal, and as he did so, an invisible force was lost and dissolved into the air, becoming part of the whole. The atmosphere vibrated. The nyasuk released each other's hands and each placed their palms together in a sign of prayer.
The Sage looked at Cassian with a mixture of pride and concern. His assistants, the young women with the staffs and ribbons, looked at each other but none dared to speak directly to the young prince. Cassian concluded that something had happened, that his ritual was not like that of the common nyasuk. He approached the Sage to ask him more, knowing that the elder could not refuse.
—My son — said the Sage — I do not have the knowledge nor have I walked the earth long enough to offer you an explanation. The lesson you learned, whether one or many, must accompany you throughout your life, and there is a higher reason why it was shown to you and no one else. But in this physical world, there was a moment in your transit when you disappeared from the view of mortals. This makes me think that you were in another plane. Neither the vestals nor I had seen anything like this. At my age, it seems I still have much to learn.
Cassian's fears or apprehensions would never be as powerful as his absolute confidence that it was possible to choose the course of action for each case. Each one was responsible for their actions and their consequences. He would do his best to, in his mandate, convey this sense of responsibility to the rest of the nyasuk to guide his race toward conscious coexistence.
The vestals, particularly one of them, with turquoise eyes, tied a purple ribbon to his wrist with a soft smile. When he held the wrist with the ribbon up to the sunlight, stepping out of the shadow of a tree, the ribbon was sky blue. And then blue.
The young woman looked at him attentively as she stayed a little behind compared to her companions. When she caught up with them, she took their hands again, between laughter.
—Don't worry about what it seems to be — said the young woman, as she reached the other vestals and spoke backward — Nothing is as it seems.
With these words, the elder, the young women, and the gathered people, members of the temple of the God and the Goddess, as well as part of his palace court and high dignitaries, left him behind, in the forest with his thoughts.
He reached out to the ribbon tied to his wrist to see if it was part of the material world or if he was still within the vision.
The ribbon disintegrated under the rays of the sun. The treetops, the grass, and the leaves of the bushes invited him to stay, to contemplate. The birds, with their trills, seemed to tell a story, a great adventure like the ones he enjoyed reading as a child. He had been accompanied by the nyasuk community in this sacred moment, in this ritual, and they had welcomed him, accepting him as one of their own.
This was something he was not used to, being the heir to the crown and without the company of his brother, with whom he should have had a close relationship. During his upbringing and into adolescence, he had been raised by Lord Ridley and his books, and he had missed his parents. Now he felt responsible for leading his life from this point forward, becoming the adult he would have liked to have had as a child. He wished with all his heart to live up to what was to come, like the heroes of the epics.
The sun on his skin and the earth beneath his feet reminded him that, although the path ahead was uncertain, he was no longer walking alone.