Nikiya
Legacy Name: Nikiya

Dark clouds pause in an angry dance above them. The gods have chosen to hide the sun today and curse it instead with storm colors in a grey blue sea. This noble gathering in the deep pine scented forest seems large until you step back, or rather up, into the clouded sky. With the wings of a hawk you could see that this forest stretches on and on and as the scene disappears beneath, you would glimpse the mountain on which it stands, tall and solitary. The people who live here don’t travel very far and are rarely visited. They too, are solitary. They are small on this mountain, in this forest, within the cathedral ringed by trees and crows and gods but also they are as large as all people are large in their own lives. And all of their lives they have been moving towards this place, this instant in time and space, and now they must face this reckoning.

In the center of everything is an altar. Behind it is a grey bearded man in a rough brown robe reading from an ancient scroll that he has placed on the altar. The candles blew out not long after he began reading. He raises his arms, the long sleeves swaying in the wind and his voice carries to the villagers huddled haggardly in the stands. The woman in front of the altar is dressed in a luxurious gown and white fur. She repeats the words of the priest and offers up herself to the gods to judge. She says the old words that will tell the gods that she is clean from all evil, that her heart is pure. She then pledges herself to the groom, swearing love to him for eternity. The groom does the same, his voice louder now as the winds pick up and howl. He is almost finished swearing himself to her for the rest of his life but he hesitates. The world seems to pause; the crowd holds its collective breath. The crowned man standing off to the side is scowling and the woman’s black eyes are hard and her mouth’s unsmiling. The sky is paused for just a moment on its roiling, clashing course. It’s like being in a stormy sea right before the first big wave.

Time unfreezes, the clouds swirl and blacken like an angry tide crashing and thunder booms. The crowd lets out its collective breath and people grab at one another and begin to exclaim out loud as they stand up as if to flee. The young man runs into the center of the arena and flings himself down next to a pale blue rose.

The sky erupts into a swirling mass, it foams and rages in bursts of thunder as people scream and try to run. The world turns white as a lightning bolt of fury and power the size of the temple is thrust down out of the swirling black storm enveloping everything. As it touches the ground it reaches out with spiraling, silver tendrils of white fire. The sound is deafening as stone crumbles and the once beautiful stone explodes into dust and flying debris. The screams are drowned out in that sudden blast. Nothing at the temple will survive.

The villagers are a superstitious lot who have been living on this mountain for generations. Each year they get ever more secretive in their ways. The roots of their ancestors run deep, far down into the mountain and its primal ways. The old gods rule and the first dark creatures still dwell in these forests. Once there were druids and healers here but they are no more. Now one turns to witches and hexes, or sacrifices and prayers, to keep the evil at bay. Every person must toil to survive here. They will do what they must and if they are lucky they will find a way to take whatever happiness they can.

Off to the west, close to the setting sun, is an old castle made of dark grey bricks and mortar. It has four towers, tall walls with turrets and a drawbridge to keep out intruders. One or two gargoyles still guard the portcullis. On the inside the fireplaces and candles are lit but the falling night hides in the corners and dances in the shifting light.

A young man named Solor is seated at one of the many tables in the banquet hall with the other members of the royal hunt. It’s the first time in months that the hunt has been a successful. He says a quick prayer of thanks to the gods but before he is even done his eyes are watching the dancers in the center of the hall. The young women are as graceful as swans. His brown eyes watch one young woman in particular, his Nikiya. He feels flushed watching her movements. Her back arches and her arms go up and then fall to her side, she leaps up and leaps again, landing perfectly every time. Solor’s dark eyes drink in the way the warm flames makes her skin glow.

When the feast is over he makes his way towards her. She’s small and delicate, with bright blue eyes and a pale, pink cheeked complexion which is flushed and dewy with sweat from dancing. “My Nikiya,” he says, pulling her against him. They breathe one another in as they steal a quick kiss in the crowded dining hall. “My darling,” he says, “How I have missed you. I have missed you all night and all the nights before it.” He holds her face in his hands, moving a strand of hair off of her forehead. “I missed you too,” she says, smiling up at him, happy they’re together once more.

“Nikiya,” Solor says, bringing a hand down to hold hers within his own, “You are all I dream about, all I want in this world. I must have you be mine. Tonight, during the Ritual of Fire, we must pledge ourselves to one another.” His eyes burn with passion for Nikiya and she answers, “Oh, Solor, I love you with all my soul. Is it true, do you really wish to swear your love for me?” Surprised but joyful she looks up at him.

“I do my beautiful doe of the forest. I would have the gods know the fire in my heart that I bare for you. You are all I think of, all I need, your beauty is above all others and your eyes steal my thoughts.”

Blushing, she looks down; her long eyelashes casting shadow on her white cheekbones. Looking up again she holds his hand tighter, “Your love overwhelms me, my brave hunter. I will do it! Yes, we will declare our love at the fires tonight!” Smiling brightly, her heart bursting with love, she hugs him.

Another dance begins to the rhythm of drums and then the other instruments join in. Soon, everyone is dancing. The High Brahman, the temple’s priest, is a bearded man in fine brown robes. He watches his favorite dancer Nikiya as she spins and performs a perfect arabesque. Her aura shines with happiness. She’s the most beautiful of my dancers, he thinks. In his heart he yearns for her, she’s always been his favorite and as the years go by his feelings for her only get stronger. He begins to walk towards the dancers as the music slows for a break. Nikiya is drinking a glass of water near the tables when the High Brahman approaches her and they begin to talk.

“Nikiya, you are by far the most graceful of dancers here.” He says, tilting his head to indicate the rest of the room.

“Thank you, High Brahman Jacan. That’s very nice of you to say. I think it’s in my blood, the dance floor seems to call to me, “Nikiya says, pleased at the compliment.

Moving a little closer the High Brahman says, “You have moved me beyond words so many times with your stunning performances. There is something I must admit to you, Nikiya. You have stolen my heart. I love you.”

Nikiya’s eyes go wide at his confession and her mouth opens but no words come out. When she does speak she says quietly, “I’m shocked, High Brahman Jacan. I’m sorry but you’re the leader of the temple. You of all people know that you must always put the gods first in your heart. I cannot be with you. I’m so sorry.”

The High Brahman turns white and then red with embarrassment and his hands clench into fists. “As you wish Nikiya,” he says stiffly and walks away.

There is a temple is set away from the village, to find it you must set off on the sandy dirt road and follow it as it curves up. The tall trees tower overhead and block out the sound from the village and all you can hear is the cawing of the crows and a scurrying sound in the underbrush. Pine needles fallen from the branches pave the edge and in some places it narrows and the path falls into shadow. It’s best to get through those places quickly. The temple is a beautiful marvel of light colored stone with veins of honey running through it, mined from the mountain itself, centuries before. The clearing that it rests in is ringed by tall pillars that form a semi-circle in front of the great flat platforms leading up to the open entrance. Inside pillars line the walls next to statues depicting fair nymphs and avenging warriors. In the very center there’s a stadium and it’s open to the sky. There are grandstands high up for sitting surrounding a circular sand pit in the center. There’s an altar on one side that faces the seats.

The Ritual of Fire is held once a year at the start of autumn during the Blood Moon. The priests light a bright, towering fire in the coliseum and couples can come and swear their love before the gods. Villagers can also pray for a good harvest but most pray that the gods might inflict ruin on their neighbors and bring wealth to their small lives. They have not always prayed this way but times have grown dark and with it their thoughts.

Many people, both royal and common came to the fires that night. Solor and Nikiya are afraid that the High Brahman will be angry with them so they wait until everyone leaves and they are all alone before coming to the fire together. Solor is lucky to have Nikiya. She is a bright star, a pure heart, in these dismal times. They put their palms together and swear in front of the gods that they will love each other eternally. Nikiya’s heart is full of joy as she looks up at her handsome lover. He made her happier than anyone ever could. As they bring their hands together she smiles and he bends down to kiss her.

The day after the feast the King calls Solor to his throne room. When he found out that one brave hunter had brought down most of the kills he declared that he had meet the man. The King was a big man with grey hairs on his head and in his brown beard. Solor told him about the hunt and how he had even taken down a man-eating bear. The King was so impressed that he declared that Solor was the most brave and strong of all his hunters. As a reward he was giving Solor his daughter’s hand in marriage.

Solor, faced with the mighty king and his court, can’t refuse. The King senses Solor’s hesitation so he says, “Her name is Gamzatti. She’s the greatest jewel in my court, you’ll see.” The King has his page send for her and soon she’s walking into the throne room. She’s wearing a close-fitting vermillion gown and a beautifully brocaded black cloak. The King introduces them. Her eyes are as dark as the night and he gets lost within them. The first thing he notices are her smoldering black eyes. Her lips are plump and red. Her hair is a dusky shade of black that looks blue when the light catches it. In that moment he forgets his lover and only sees Gamzatti. She looks him up and down. “You’ve chosen well father,” the Princess says. Her lips part to smile at him, a promise of things to come.

The next day the castle is bustling. Inside the Princess’s study it’s snug and warm though it’s cold and rainy outside. The room has a fireplace, a table with chairs and shelves with books. There’s wine being poured at the table and a small platter of cheese and tarts. A petite woman is sitting across from the Princess. Nikiya was honored at the request for a meeting and came right away.

“Welcome Nikiya, I’m Princess Gamzatti,” she says nodding to the dancer.

“Thank you for inviting me here, your grace.” Nikiya says, looking down into the wine that’s set before her and she takes a small sip.

“I have heard great things about your dancing,” the Princess says languidly, “I saw you only briefly at the feast, I had other business to attend to that night. I heard it was breathtaking.”

Blushing from the compliment Nikiya answers, “Thank you Princess.”

The Princess smiles, “It has not been announced yet but I’m getting married soon. It’s traditional for the head temple dancer to perform at the wedding ceremony. Will you dance for us?”

Nikiya’s face lit up with excitement, “Yes! I would be honored, Princess. Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you, Nikiya. It will make me so happy to have you dance for us. Unfortunately, that brings me to my next topic which is not so cheerful.” The Princess leans back in her chair, holding her wine in one hand as she crosses her legs. “Today I overheard a rather frightful conversation between my father and your High Brahman.”

“What did he say?” Nikiya leaned forward anxiously in her seat, slightly alarmed.

“Well, he claims that he saw you and the hunter, Solor, swear vows to one another on the day of the Ritual of Fire. Is this true?” The princess sat forward in her chair; she seemed very concerned by this.

Nikiya’s mouth dropped open. How had Jacan known? He must have been spying on her! “Yes, it’s true!” Nikiya blurted out, “Solor and I love each other, we said the vow that night but I thought we were alone. Why would he tell the King this? It’s no business of his.”

“Actually, it is,” The princess bit her lip at what Nikiya said. Frowning she said, “Solor is the one my father has decreed I marry.”

“What? No, this can’t be true.” Nikiya’s hand went to her mouth in shock.

“Please, Nikiya-“

“You must be mistaken.” Nikiya said.

“Nikiya, you must give him up. The King’s word is final and Solor agreed to it. You MUST give him up. If you don’t leave him alone-” Gamzatti stuttered suddenly, her dark eyes huge, “If you don’t, the King will kill you! I heard him say it. He’ll kill you!” The princess was leaning towards Nikiya, her black eyes pleading with her, her hands gripped the table. Nikiya was speechless.

“Nikiya, please! You have to leave him. I can give you gold- as much as you want!”

“No, I don’t want your gold!” Nikiya’s shock was replaced with fear and anger.

“I can give you jewels! I will give you whatever you want but you must give up Solor! I’m trying to help you!” The princess stood up, all but begging Nikiya. “Solor loves me. Please just let us marry in peace!”

“You’re lying!”

“No, I promise I’m not! Please, Nikiya! I’ll give you anything you want!”

“You’re trying to steal the love of my life! You’re forcing Solor to marry you and I’ll never let you have him!” Something in Nikiya seemed to snap and shatter. Yelling, she rushed at Gamzatti, a knife from the table in her hand. The princess screamed as a servant shoved Nikiya aside at the last moment. Suddenly realizing what she’s done she races out of the palace.

Over the next few days she hears talk about the engagement. Every attempt she tries at contacting Solor fails. She locks herself in her room and cries. How could he do this to her? She loved him. He said he loved her. They were going to marry and be happy forever and now he was with someone else. She couldn’t bare it, she loved him so much and now she only hurt and she couldn’t make it stop. He had to love her still; he was being forced into this. They were meant to be together... She spent her days and nights praying to the gods. This had to be some kind of a mistake. To make matters Nikiya had already agreed to dance at the ceremony and was being forced to do it. She didn’t have a choice.

The day of the formal betrothal at the temple Nikiya let her hair loose and wore a gossamer silver dress. The day dawned cloudy and grey which was perfect for her. The forest felt moody, maybe it’s the storm that’s coming, she thought.

The noble guests had all taken their seats and it was time to dance. She glanced at Solor who was standing next to the Princess. She was shining in a dress made of ivory and a white wolf pelt. Solor was even more handsome than he was the last time she saw him and her heart caught in her throat. He was wearing expensive boots and his pants and tunic were made of the finest fabric. His beautiful brown hair was brushed back, his eyes were looking into Gamzatti's and he was smiling.

She nods at the musicians and they begin to play. Nikiya lets her heart guide her and her movements are controlled and somber. As she’s leaving the stage a servant hands her a basket of flowers. They’re rare delicate mountain roses that signify love. Her heart swells with hope and joy! He still loves me, she thinks excitedly. Elated, she leaps back into the center of the stadium. He loves me, he loves me! She spins faster and faster and this time the musicians can barely keep up with her dizzying moves. She stretches out her legs and jumps higher than she ever has before, her leaps take her farther and it’s the best she’s ever done! She sees Solor out of the corner of her eyes here and there, no longer afraid to look at him. He’s smiling and watches her, fascinated. My one true love, she thinks, we will be together!

Breathless and beaming, she stops in the center of the stage and the royal guests stand, clapping and cheering. Panting but happy she turns to meet Solor’s warm brown eyes. She smiles at him and he smiles back, he’s clapping as well. Grinning she reaches into the basket to pull out one of the roses. She brings it to her nose and a small green snake unwinds itself from the stem and strikes out at her. It’s only a second and she’s bitten before she even knows it. She flings the rose and the snake to the ground and the Princess’s servant runs out to stomp on it and take it away. She puts her hand to the side of her neck in disbelief.

“Dear Nikiya,” says a familiar voice behind her. She turns around to see the High Brahman standing in front of her.Her neck is burning and her nose and tongue are starting to go numb.

“What is happening?” She says awkwardly, forcing the words out. Her veins are starting to hurt, like her skin is too tight.

“The King and the Princess have plotted against you. You've been poisoned. I could not prevent it but I cannot stand to see you die.”

It was hard to talk, her throat was aching and it was getting harder to breathe.

“I have the antidote here- please take it!” The antidote! She grabs the tiny golden bottle from his hands. She turns to look at Solor to show him that she’ll be okay but he’s busy talking to the Princess.

Nikiya looks to the table, her face distorting with pain as she observes Solor telling a tale to make the Princess laugh. She knows in that instant that this is the work of jealous Gamzatti, who would stop at nothing to get what she wants, even agains the will of the gods. She fixes Gamzatti with an accusing stare, refusing to look away even as she writhes in agony.

"You did this." She cannot get much volume from her scratchy voice. The pain in her throat is unbearable but she must have her say. "You are the snake among the flowers. You will never be at peace, Princess. The gods will have their vengeance."

To the High Brahman’s horror Nikiya tosses the vial to the ground and as it shatters she collapses on the stone.

Her heart is sluggish, each beat slower than the one before it. She lies slightly on her side; her long black hair is swept about her head where it cascaded when she collapsed. Her heart though, that is what pains her the most. It’s broken. All the good has fled from it and filled back up with sorrow and despair. It hurts so much; it’s an empty, despairing pit that only visits unlucky souls who lose everything they love. Intense blue eyes stare out looking at nothing. Her face rests on the hard stone ground. The cold permeates through her pale skin and her heart beats, thub... thub... And her neck burns where the fangs of a small green snake bit her. She doesn’t have the strength to raise her hands to soothe it or move her head away from the cold or even to shiver, but she refuses to close her eyes.

In this still scene Gamzatti’s holding onto Solor’s arm ferociously, her teeth are snarled and her eyes, which are locked onto his, flare angrily. He looks stunned but seems to be straining against her and the King has a hold of his sleeve on the other side.

The girl who is the focus of this drama feels the world spinning. Her hands clasp at nothing, weakly they spasm and she keeps her eyes open. Her heart beats and beats and beats, slower but it feels like forever, another blue tear falls out of her eyes and that is the last one. Her breath stops, her life goes out of her and her eyes are still and dead.

Solor has managed to escape the clutches of his betrothed and rushes to Nikiya’s side but it’s too late, she’s already dead. The King’s guards rush over to drag him back. He evades them and runs out of the temple.

After much soul searching Solor returns to the castle and accepts his fate the next day. The clouds are dark when they arrive at the place where Nikiya died just yesterday. The court and nobles have gathered once more.

Frowning, Solor stands at the altar with Princess Gamzatti. A strange feeling pushes at his senses. He glances over and sees only the wind making the leaves dance. He turns back to his future bride. Gamzatti was cross with him that he didn’t want to wed today. He tried to explain but she kept saying that it had to be today, that he’d promised her. Looking into her sultry eyes, he hesitated. She used that moment to pull him close and kiss him and whisper in his ear how much she loved him. Poor Nikiya was gone now and Gamzatti was still alive and full of fire.

A swirling silver cloth catches his eye and brings his attention back to the present. He turns but nothing’s there. Solor, he hears. It’s just the faintest of whispers. It sounded like Nikiya saying his name. His heart beats quicker and his eyes dart around, searching. Gamzatti is glaring at him again. Was he supposed to say something? Pulling his mind back to the ceremony he hears the High Brahman reciting from the Book of Duty. He hears his name again and turns- Nikiya? He furrows his brow and looks at the crowd. There! He sees a faint glimmer in the shape of a petite dancer. She’s dancing slowly and gesturing towards him. He takes a step forward and is stopped. Gamzatti is looking at him, her eyes angry and questioning. He looks around; no one else can see the ghost. He turns and it’s gone.

It’s almost too quiet. You can hear the roar of the wind overhead and feel it enter through the open roof. Solor glances upwards and feels a hand tickle his arm. He looks down, and there‘s a delicate handprint on his arm glittering like sand. Gamzatti’s reciting the words of the oath to the High Brahman as the mark fades away. Solor looks around him desperately but nothing is there, yet the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he feels electric suddenly. When the High Brahman asks him to repeat the words to bind him to Gamzatti he pauses.

He doesn’t know what to think anymore. The High Brahman, the Princess, the King and the court are all staring at him and the priest repeats the words. Shaking his head to clear it Solor says the words back. The wind is howling now and the nobles move uneasily in their seats. There is one final binding word left which Solor says and the storm unleashes overhead. People begin yelling and the lightening starts. This is no ordinary storm. Gamzatti seeks him for protection but he turns away from her. The building is crumbling around him now and the screams are getting louder but he manages to makes it to the place Nikiya died before the gods unleash their fury and he falls into ethereal silvery arms.