Page 52 of Joy Guardian

The honeycomb frame on the paper was hand-drawn, but the writing inside seemed to be an imprint of an engraving.

Kurai craned his neck to take a better look. “This is a bookmark with the words by the First Priestess. It’s a copy. We make them to give out to the pilgrims in memory of their visit here.”

I started reading the words on the bookmark,“Don’t be afraid?—“

“…of the dawn, after a storm always comes peace,”Kurai finished for me, reciting it by heart. “These are the words of comfort left to us by the First Priestess of Joy. They’re carved in stone over the front doors to the temple too.”

“That was nice of her,” I mumbled, inspecting the bookmark. “Only it isn’t written in the language you speak, and it doesn’t say what you think it does. There is a comma here, see? And the ‘d’ in ‘dawn’ is capitalized.”

“What do you mean?” He stepped closer for a better look at the bookmark. “This is the ancient language that the First Priestess spoke. Many of her writings are in it, signed with this word right here.” He pointed at the end of the quote.

“And what do you think this word means?”

“We have decrypted it as ‘dark’ or ‘darkness.’ The different spelling is because the Priestess used it as her signature, not to be confused with the regular word ‘darkness’ used in her language.”

“Well, I have to say it, Kurai…” I twisted the bookmark in my fingers, trying and failing to make any sense of it or even of how it could’ve possibly gotten here. “This ‘ancient language’ as you call it looks very much like English to me, and I’m not even talking about some old, Shakespearian version of it. Just the plain modern English, the language I spoke back home. And this mysterious signature word reads as ‘Melanie,’ which is a very common name for a woman where I come from. I even have a younger cousin with that name…”

Fourteen

KURAI

Acontemplative expression settled on Ciana’s beloved face. From what I knew, there wasn’t that much to miss from her life in the human world. She often felt relieved about leaving it all behind. But there were people she remembered fondly. Her wistful longing slipped through my tendrils and tugged at my heart as we walked up the stairs to the main floor of the temple.

Her nostalgia didn’t ease while we searched the icebox in the side room for food and found none.

“The sun will be down soon. The temple will open its doors to the visitors, who bring us food and sometimes money in exchange for us taking care of the Joy,” I assured her.

Ciana nodded silently. She had no means to connect to our Source of Joy, but I hoped that just being in the same room with it and seeing it would cheer her up as it had always lifted my spirits.

“Wow!” She stopped as if struck by lightning as we entered the main hall and faced the shimmering column of the Joy. It rose to the vaulted stone ceiling, like an axis supporting our entire world with its light. “So, this is…”

“Our Source of Joy,” I replied with reverence that warmed my chest.

She slowly walked around it along the lacy high fence of the enclave, taking in the golden facets of the crystal-shaped cells. Each cell initially held joy from one person—a fae from the Above. But connected within the Source, the shimmering essence of the Joy had blended into the divine magic that I worshiped.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ciana said in a voice filled with wonder. “I never knew an emotion can be gathered and kept like this.”

Even the fae from the Above didn’t know that.

“The First Priestess discovered the way to collect and store the Joy for the generations ahead. She was the first of our people who felt it, long ago when most of us were still only shadows.”

“Did she?” Ciana’s forehead furrowed in thought. “How did she know anything about joy at all if the rest of you were just shadows?”

“In times of need, the gods give knowledge to the most capable of us, as well as the strength to use that knowledge for the greater good.”

“So, you believe that your gods just singled out a shadow, taught her all about joy and happiness, then gave her a body and made her the First Priestess?”

I paused, taken aback by the simplistic way she had relayed the holiest events of my people’s story. It all had been described in the most reverent way in our scriptures. But I sensed no disrespect in Ciana, only her desire to understand and a hefty share of doubt.

Doubt was hard to accept. I grew up with these beliefs, surrounded by people who not only shared them but nurtured them in me and the others. I wasn’t used to anyone questioning them.

“That is a rather facile summary of what takes up an entire room of texts in our archives.” I pursed my lips before begrudgingly agreeing, “But yes, your summary is accurate in its principle.”

She glanced at the paper bookmark that she’d brought with her from the study room.

“Did your First Priestess leave more texts other than this?” she asked.

“Yes. She lived a long and productive life of over six hundred years and left a large legacy. The design and function of yourleilathaharness was also found in her writings, as was the process of gathering and preserving the Joy.”

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