Chương 51: Chapter 44 ~ Tsininokha (Act Three)

15/11/1111 EotTS 22: 10 Wyohla's wine swirled in its glass as she inspected the color in the lights of the theater, and she took a sip, then another, and between the time it took Gysel to glance to the parting curtains, the glass was empty. The stage had been rotated, or the set had been changed entirely, as now the back wall was displaying the sliding doors that Tsininokha was forbidden from ever opening.

Prop-piles of glistening gold and gems representing all of the rainbow had only grown taller since the end of the second act, but this did not seem to please Tsininokha, as she was pacing around the stage, weaving her way betwixt the piles, occasionally inspecting a piece, only to cast it away.

"Nothing!" Tsininokha cried.

"Nothing! What can be done? A year past but no tasks, not one! For what is the point of all this? Certainly something is amiss!"

"What is he hiding, Pyrletox? There must be something more than talk; Why does he not come more often? The same time, again, and again."

"Are there more maidens? Twenty-Six, and we can never know, nor mix?" Slowly, softly stepping towards the doors, Tsininokha grasped the handle, and looked back to the audience.

"All my answers, beyond the door, I must open it, to know more." And that she did, pulling the door open, first just a sliver to peer through, then enough to allow her whole head out, and finally, she opened the door all the way, and exited the room.

The room slid away, and was replaced by a series of walls that descended from the ceiling, each with thirteen sets of doors slowly growing smaller down a long hallway, and on the left, four doors down from Tsininokha, Pyrletox could be seen, sliding one of the doors open, and stepping in with a tray, followed by a woman excitedly greeting him. Then the walls rose (revealing Pyrletox and a woman not in costume), and the house, now a room, slid back into place. The door opened, and Tsininokha re-entered.

Clutching her chest, she gently shut the door behind her, and slid down it, until she was sitting against its wooden face.

"I was right!" she exclaimed.

"This is not my shrine! Many more homes, each just like mine. He did enter a home with tea, the same platter he used for me!" Gysel leaned over to Wyohla, and asked: "Is this a twist on the fable where the prince has the bodies of his dead wives locked in his basement?"

"No," answered Wyohla, "it's not. Just keep watching, pay attention to this part." She pointed to the stage. Gysel did not follow the finger; instead she flipped to the last page of the script, just to check if Wyohla was telling the truth, and if Tsininokha lived: she did.

"Gods, Gysel." Wyohla groaned.

"This is the good part." Flipping back to the current line, Gysel looked back to the stage.

"They must all think they are alone, with riches, wealth, and ocean throne! Each maiden must get but an hour. Woe, but I have little power."

"Oh, I can only play the fool," she sank her head into her hands, rocking it back and forth.

"He cannot know I broke the rule. With piled gems and gold I must stay, alone for the rest of my days." Jumping to her feet, Tsininokha pressed her ear to the door: she was certainly caught.

"No! What is this, behind the door! Footsteps, each getting louder more!" She ran away from the door, and hid, crouched behind one of her piles of hoarded gold like a cowardly dragon.

"Doomed, I am Doomed, I took the line! This reckless heart cannot be fine." The door opened gently, and Pyrletox stepped in, shutting the door behind him.

"Tell me, where were you just now?" asked he.

"I heard a few strange sounds. Did you, Tsininokha, open that door, venture out? Answer me, Tsininokha, hide not behind gold mounds, That noise, you must know the answer, what was it about?" You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"No!" cried Tsininokha, "As your priestess, I swear, I am no nosy scout, Please believe me, do not gaze upon me with such doubt. You have given me so much, why risk losing it all, just to see what was behind that door, out in the hall?" Upon finishing that sentence, she gasped, probably realizing that she had just exposed her own lie; at least that was what the program said: 'Tsininokha gasps because she exposed her own lie'.

"O, Tsininokha, I had placed so much faith in you, but why, Oh, you broke my trust, you lied, opened this door?"

"Please," Tsininokha calls, peeking around her hiding spot, "I do not want your ire; my intentions were true; My isolation, I could simply bear it no more." Pyrletox moved closer, looming over her and her pile.

"That is not good enough. Tell me: what did you hope for?"

"I hoped for answers, the truth, and a priestess's duties. For even with this gold, these jewels, life is a bore. But 'tis you who have been dishonest, lying to me!" Pyrletox laughed a booming laugh.

"How so, my Sage; is that your theory? tell me all. I have given you everything, and asked but one thing. I taught you to read, write, any book at beck and call. Can you call me a liar, when you live like a king?"

"I am not the only one to whom treasures you bring!" Tsininokha stands from her pile, but is dwarfed by Pyrletox.

"O, I call you a liar, for you call me your sage. Yet, I am just a single flower grown in your ing. Did you pick me? or will I ever be in this cage?"

"My Sage," Pyrletox said, as he reached out and took Tsininokha by the shoulder, "I no longer have a reason to pick you, for you have done it yourself, by tiring of these gems. Of all these women, you alone have spread wing and flew. One even spends all day admiring the golden hems."

"Each one, by avarice, believes all that I tell them. Now come, things must be ready, we have no time to talk, Your rites shall start in the morn, and you can keep each gem, Off we go worthy one, there is a priestess to frock!" Pyrletox escorted Tsininokha through the double doors, and once they were clear of the threshold, the house slid away to stage left, revealing a starlit painted background of the sea at night.

Slowly from stage right, people started to enter, some empty-handed, some carrying torches, and six carrying a large tin tub, filled with fake water made of a blue fabric. Once the tub had been set down in the center of the stage, Pyrletox stopped before it with Tsininokha. The hooded devotees and attendants with hair braided around silks of blues and golds began dancing along the large tub, around the new priestess and Pyrletox.

They began to chant, trading lines as they spoke:"Here stands a new priestess, fresh of soul, upon our beach! For she tried to find what was out of grasp, beyond reach. But despite piles of gold and gems which we presented, she forsook them all, and what a lesson did she teach, for it was the material which she resented, and through this virtue, does she find herself repentant."

"Oh, for all she has been through, there is left but one test, not of greed or complacency, simpler than the rest: from the waters of the sea, anew she must be born." Four of the attendants emerged from the people as they swirled and circled, taking Tsininokha by the legs and arms, and raising her up above the tub, then submerging her up to her neck.

"Once you emerge, you will be clean," they continued, "ready to bear crest, yclad in a robe, dried, feather and shell adorned, this island will be yours dear priestess, never forlorn." Pyrletox placed his hand on the head of Tsininokha, and pushed her beneath the waves, where he held her for a few seconds as the chorus began to slow their dance to a stop, and the seven original devotees emerged with a grand robe.

As promised, the robe of matte blue velvet was adorned with the white feathers of gulls lining the hem and grand shells trailing behind on threads of gold. Tsininokha emerged from beneath the tulle waves and was lifted out by Pyrletox, where once she was standing back on her feet, the robe was placed around her, and the curtains fell. Wyohla, on yet another glass, leaned over once more, and said: "You can tell the playwright knew nothing about how priestesses are frocked."

"And you do?" asked Gysel; Wyohla seemed to be very against organized worship, and this disdain likely came from a place of knowledge, not ignorance. Wyohla scoffed, coughed, and took a long sip, savoring it before answering.

"Of course, I have many books on it. You can read them if you would like."

"No, thank you. Maybe another time. I have enough to read now as it is." Gysel shook her head—philosophical essays are absolutely horrible, certainly the academic equivalent of the denidification of a fledgling far too soon, one should not think about school while enjoying a play, especially if it is the first play one has gone to see, it is best practice to sit back and immerse oneself in the tale, letting it wash over oneself, even if that ability is limited by a nattering, drinking, sophistic blonde—.

"I'm going to the washroom," said Wyohla, as she left her chair, and wobbled away.

"All right. Have fun," said Gysel with a wave, as she returned her gaze to the curtains, awaiting the final act.