Silences
Between heart-beats and lies.
The horses neighed sharply as the chariot lurched to a sudden halt, the sheer force hurling Bea from his seat. “Rudolf, why have you stopped? Is everything okay?” Bea enquired. Silence stretched on, and impatience gripped him; he stepped down from the chariot to check on the young charioteer. “Rudolf! I asked—”, he gulped down his words as he saw what lay ahead.
“The walls of Ivor stand tall and strong, never bending to any storm,” Orion sang as he dismounted from his horse, which trailed behind us. The pristine white wall, soiled with dust along its vast expanse, seemed endless in height and stretch. “It looks like it goes on forever—how do we even get in?” Bea asked, thoroughly puzzled.
Orion caressed the wall's surface, placing his hand flat against it. “I wonder what Mage Orion is doing…” the young soldier beside us muttered. “Seems like he’s caressing the wall like his beloved—maybe he misses her,” the other chuckled. “We need to travel due north a bit; we might find a way in.” Orion pointed north. Bea just stood before the wall, taking it all in—the view stole his breath away.
As the party ventured further north, they plunged deep into a lush forest. Before day's end, they came upon the gate. “The Crystal Gate!” the amused charioteer exclaimed. “Indeed, the Gate of many tales—the Crystal Gate…” Bea whispered under his breath as he stepped toward it. Before he could take another step, two blue-shimmering arrows shattered the air, barring his path. “Halt right there! Don’t take another step—any advance will be met with death!” shouted a voice from atop the gate.
“We intend no harm to Ivor or its inhabitants. We’re just here because we received this.” Bea unrolled the invitation bearing the Ivory Tower sigil. Out of nowhere, an arrow with a rope trailing shot over the gate, and a petite yet agile man in white robes slid down it with practiced ease. “Here, gimme that, boy.” He snatched the invitation from Bea’s hand and inspected it closely. After staring at it for a long moment, he scowled at the party and bellowed, “Oi! Lads, let em’ in! The tower sent sum call for this Lor Beetle juice—rah! Err, rah!”
The massive blue-hued crystal gates rumbled open, dust jolting from their rails. The party hurried through as the gates shut behind them. A cluster of small women blocked their path. “No funneh trouble, ey! Go to tower, lads—if trouble, no soul makes out of Ivor with life.”
“Nah anor sharah kahan mahi, nah sharah wi amo mahi sohori,” Orion said, bending down to the women. “What tongue is he even speaking?” Rudolf asked Bea. “I have no idea.” The ladies blushed. “Ai! Tu sohor devo!” One plucked a flower from her basket and offered it to him, then they all departed.
“What was all that about, Mage?” Bea asked. Orion climbed onto his mount. “Let’s just say we won’t be leaving those gates dead.” He winked at the ladies. “I’m sure he flirted his way through, as always, my lord,” the soldier next to Bea chuckled. “I’m sure he did, Navis—as long as it doesn’t get us killed.” Bea laughed it off as he climbed aboard the chariot.
The convoy wound through the realm of Ivor, where a serene blend of ancient buildings and dense vegetation dotted the landscape. “Quite contrary to the view for a realm that’s been formidable for ages, don’t you think, Lord Betelgeuse?” the Minister of Wealth commented, gazing from the chariot. “I think it’s actually quite complimentary to its status as a formidable nation. A realm that’s sustained internal harmony, cut off from the world yet thriving, speaks volumes about its design—and how it never flinched amid wars on its doorstep.”
“Ivor wasn’t always like this,” Orion said, riding alongside the chariot on his mount. “One couldn’t tell Ivor and Olympus apart in the olden times. The Crystal Gates weren’t always a symbol of defiance against wars declared on Ivor—they once welcomed everyone near and far. This harmony crept in naturally the moment those gates closed. Sieges and wars cut it off from the world for many celestial cycles.”
“A pond and mind become still when the placid stream is controlled—no wonder,” Queen Anera of Malrid whispered from across me, jotting the words in her book with her quill. The convoy drew closer to the Ivory Tower fortress. Betelgeuse handed a letter to Raven, who was in his human form on Orion’s mount. “Can you get this to Starling?” Raven took it and scoffed. “You and your tea time Bea, your starling—poor thing might be waiting for you at the citadel.” He transformed into his bird form and flew off.
The Ivory Tower Fortress—one had only heard endless tales of its beauty and valor, for none could ever see it. The ornate gates parted gracefully as the convoy arrived. “Oh dey here, Jon! Go tell da Queen!” a frail woman’s voice shouted from the tower .Short butlers dressed in finery lined up. “Welcome to the Ivory Tower, Your Grace,” they intoned, bowing in unison. Then a petite woman in silver finery and gilded robes descended the ornate staircase. “Oh heavens, you’re here, Lord Betelgeuse!”
“She looks like your hunchback gran, Navis,” one soldier giggled, eyeing the other. Orion stomped the foot of the giggler. “The pleasure is all ours, Queen Emory,” Orion replied on Bea’s behalf. “Oh, Orion dear, wasn’t expecting you here ever again.” She stretched out her hand to Betelgeuse. “Come, dear—I must show you something at once!” She ignored everyone else present.
She grabbed Bea’s hand and hurried into the fortress, her hefty little steps barely keeping pace with her zeal. “Where are we going, Your Majesty?” he asked. “You seem so placid—is everything okay?” Before answering, the Queen ordered the guards to open a strange mechanical door. It parted in five segments, each embedded with a peculiar stone. “Everything is alright, Lord Betelgeuse. Would you follow me, please?” Bea looked perplexed. Sensing his skepticism, she assured him, “No harm lies here, dearest. I promise I’ll return you to your people without a single scratch.”
“Thanks—I mean, I have no other—” She cut him off. “We ain’t got time for words, dearie. Follow me now!” She dashed down the flight of stairs beyond the door. They seemed endless, but soon opened into…. an entire city nestled underground. The quiet, humble serenity of Ivor’s overworld felt like a mere illusion compared to the bustle here—countless bridges, towers, markets. It was the clockwork heart of this formidable realm. The Queen waved to signal a waiting wagon. No horses pulled it; it glided on its own. “What in the name of Velyria,” Bea whispered. “Velyria’s not the only place with gizmos, Lord Betelgeuse.” She let out a proud chuckle.
The wagon led us to a foreboding structure that dwarfed all that laid around it, even the entire expanse of this city in the womb of Earth felt small before this glistening giant , Bea jolted his head to the side and stared at the building, “What is that?”. Queen Emory shifted to his side and looked at the serene white enormous gilded beast, “Welcome to Ivory Tower Lord Betelgeuse”, wagon rode past its gates and halted. Bea was about to step down, “Not yet Dearie, hold on”. The wagon twisted and started descending down by itself in air, Bea held onto the edge of his seat, the Queen found it all hilarious. “Don’t worry you won’t fall off my lord”. The wagon then thumped onto a surface and stopped right in front of a green door.
He followed the Queen without a thought, still reeling from what he’d witnessed. Beyond the green door lay a labyrinth of glass. He lost himself in a thousand reflections dancing in his eyes. As he started to navigate the maze, the Queen yanked his coat. “Your Grace, we don’t have time to lose picking our way through this abyss. Just touch the walls and close your eyes.” Bea shut his eyes and pressed his palm to the cold glass. His entire being swayed with the pulse thrumming in the wall—then a sharp pain stabbed his head.
The moment he opened his eyes, the labyrinth unraveled, its paths straightening to lead him exactly where he needed to go. “C’mon, go ahead—someone’s been waiting for you.” Bea glanced back at the Queen, thoroughly confused, yet he pressed on. None of this makes any rational sense. What is even happening? he muttered to himself.
Had his eyes played tricks on him? In the glass, he glimpsed a younger self—the version that yearned for Gregory amid countless reflections. He dismissed it and pressed on, only to spot another: his child self, forever clinging to his mother’s lap. This time, he fixed his gaze on it. The image morphed into his current self—bleeding, robes tattered, after forsaking everything. He froze, taken aback. But this reflection wasn’t mimicking him; it was moving away. He abandoned the path to the central chamber and chased it down a twisting corridor encircling the maze.
This time, the reflection morphed into an old man—a familiar one who stared straight at him, unmoving. Bea froze. The figure pointed toward the door at the corridor's end. He stumbled toward it and entered the central chamber, blinded by a piercing light that shone from within. He raised his hand to shield his eyes.
The light shifted upward, unveiling a dome of mirrors. There he stood amid all his versions—and at one end, a familiar voice echoed: “Hey, my little prince! Look at you, all adorable. Doesn’t he look like the Lord of the Skies incarnate?”
“Mom?” Bea whispered into the void.
Then he saw it: the cooing baby. That’s… me? Half sure. It IS me.
Out of nowhere, the smooth glass walls cracked. A thousand reflections shattered into view. A raven’s caw pierced the air: “Your friend sent a message for you” The young soul—he knew them. “Starling! That’s Starling. Starling, can you hear me? Raven, I’m here!” He pressed his hand to the image.
“They can’t hear you, Betelgeuse,” a voice resonated through the void. Then a faint blue glow flickered at the edge of his view. “What is this… and who are you?” The figure laughed. “Straight to the important questions, huh?” A beautiful, enchanting woman stepped into view.
“Vanessa?” Bea gasped.
Haven’t seen you in many moons,” she chuckled. “So, to answer your first question: this is all—you.”
“If everything here is me, why in the seven heavens is Starling over there? That doesn’t make sense.” Betelgeuse scoffed.
“Whoever told you that you and your friend were distinct beings?” Vanessa countered.
“That doesn’t even make sense. You see Starling right there—” He pointed. “And I’m here.”
“That little child of the stars who traveled so far was nothing but a reflection of your entirety—one you couldn’t see.” She took Bea’s hand before he could speak. “I didn’t say your Starling doesn’t exist. I simply meant sometimes two mighty drops are of the same ocean… and only an ocean can wipe out what’s about to befall all our fates.”
“What’s about to befall all our fates, Vanessa?” Bea asked, concern etching his face. “An invisible enemy is toughest to fight, Lord Betelgeuse. A battle awaits us all.” She replied her arms crossed.
“Who is this enemy? Know their name, realm, strength—give these buffoons who call themselves lords a common threat, and they’ll devise its downfall. Why call on me? I’m good for noth—”
She cut him off.
“You’re the only one I could call upon, Bea. This enemy can’t be met with might, grandeur, or deceit. It demands awareness of the self—and you’re one of the few who isn’t fickle-minded, who dared confront your own reflection. The enemy is far from our doorstep, but we need time to prepare. You might think you’re nothing, but that nothing can be crafted into our best chance to save everything we know from reducing to nothing.”
A heavy silence settled. “But what does an innocent soul like Starling have to do with the matters of our world?”
“Have you ever heard the tale of Helos and Eiwa?” She took his hands and gazed into the shattered reflection.
There once was an ocean of nothing and everything.
From the silences between everything, the light of the world took birth.
From the chaos between nothing, the nights rose up.
The light blazed, and the world drew breath, bowing to its serenity.
The nights offered quiet escape from the day’s tiring labors.They called the light Helos—his hair lush and green, his skin gleaming with radiance. Worlds sprang to life at his mere touch.
They called the night Eiwa—her cold skin embracing tired souls, her shining hair an odd comfort amid the void.Then one day, they met. They knew each other’s silhouette: she, daughter of everything; he, son of nothing.
They saw a silver cord knotted between their hearts. They pulled—and realized the hearts were one.
They dissolved into each other. No Eiwa, no Helos—for they were one.
“You are the Eiwa, Starling the Helos. To the world, you seem two distinct beings—but your dear friend is of the same ocean you’re part of. Those answers you sought in the Celestial Repository of time were never there. They weren’t between pages or memories; they were always with you. And they found you through this visible other.”
“I’ve always had what I needed.” Tears rolled down his cheeks.
“Yes, you did. After all, your Starling took birth from the silences between your lies and truths—for together, you make the absolute.”
You hear a sweet song from afar. You follow the serene melody, drawn into the cave of memories. The song swells, loud and clear—a lullaby for someone dear. You realize it drifts from that void. You hesitate, yet in a heartbeat, you step in…
And there he is, drowned in tears, his face hovering between bliss and fear. You reach for that familiar face, and hear the calling…
My dearest Starling~