“That is also unsurprising,” the Nassé chuckled, her faint smile revealing sharp-looking teeth.  “My people seldom travel outside of Xeshun.  Even if the sun did not blind us or burn our skin, we’re not particularly . . . social.  But be at ease.  I grant you permission to call me by my given name, Xinthi.”

“I’ve always heard that engstaxis aren’t very friendly,” Kirin murmured.  She couldn’t stop staring at the Nassé’s body.  Xinthi’s hands looked so young, lacking the mottled skin or bulging veins that came in middle age for all the races.  But her face, despite being so pretty, carried some distinct wrinkles.  Maybe those wrinkles came from pressing her face against her pillows for so long.

“It’s true.  We’re not at all friendly.”  Xinthi arched her white eyebrows and laughed softly.  As she did, Kirin noticed her forehead tattoo, which consisted of a row of three blue circles, with the one in the center made to resemble a stylized eye.  She wasn’t a noble, either!  Whenever the current Nassé died, the new Nassé received this crest in addition to any existing crest she already bore.  If the new Nassé were a lesser noble, the Nassé’s crest would be added above her familial crest.  Any woman marrying into a noble family would receive her husband’s crest in addition to her own, as well as the crest of any subsequent husbands, but since no priestess could be previously married, this situation never happened to a Nassé.

The Nassé patted a spot on the mattress in front of her, startling Kirin back to the present.  “You are an odd girl, but I think I shall be friendly with you.  Sit beside me and close the curtains; the light is very bright.”  She held out her hand to Kirin.

Kirin received Xinthi’s hand and knelt on the bed, drawing the curtains shut behind her, enveloping them both in semi-darkness.  As her eyes slowly adjusted, she found herself sinking deep into the mattress.  Pressing her palms against the smooth, satiny sheets, she decided that it was the softest bed she’d ever felt.

“I’m glad to finally meet you, Kirin,” Xinthi said, settling back against her pillows.  “I am impressed by the reports I’ve received on your abilities in ormé, and that they manifested themselves at such a young age.  Of course, one born of your house is bound to be talented, but the priestesses have indicated that your teacher, Batem, finds you exceptional.  Would you like some fruit?”  Xinthi took up the platter of sliced fruit from the silver tray beside her and offered it to Kirin.

Even in the dim light, Kirin could make out the color of the fruit.  It was a variety that had bright pink skin, green seeds, and yellow flesh.  She couldn’t refuse the Nassé’s offer; this fruit was uncommon to Judath and happened to be one of her favorites.  She carefully picked up a slice of fruit and took a bite.  The flesh practically burst inside of her mouth, flooding it with tangy juice and crunchy seeds.  She thought, as she chewed and swallowed, that it was strange to be eating in bed—especially in the Nassé’s bed.  Perhaps this was an engstaxi custom.

“I was born under the eighth house of ormé,” Xinthi continued.  “That is rare enough, but you?  You are one of a kind for the time being, and so it is quite fitting that you are being trained to succeed me one day.  I hear you are capable of dreaming almost every night.  It took me years of meditation to be able to accept visions from the goddess on a regular basis, and even then, they don’t come nightly.  You are gifted by the goddess to be able to dream in such a way so often.”

Kirin swallowed the last bit of her fruit and began to feel anxious about her sticky fingers.  Licking them would have been uncouth.  Wiping them clean on the sheets would have been even more uncouth.  Seeing no other option, she simply balled up her fist.  “It’s not as impressive as my teacher makes it sound,” Kirin admitted.  “Most of my dreams seem to be entirely meaningless.  Even when my dreams are visionary, the meaning is hardly ever profound.”  Except maybe that dream.

“Don’t diminish your gift, Kirin,” Xinthi admonished in a tender fashion, although her delivery was stilted enough that Kirin knew it wasn’t in her nature to chasten someone lovingly.  “Any sort of revelation is important, and anyone predisposed to such revelation can hone her skills.  That it comes easily to you simply means that you will be a tool for tremendous good in serving the goddess.”

Kirin watched as Xinthi poured herself a cup of strong smelling tea.  The Nassé then brought the cup close to her thin lips.

“Did you know, Kirin, that it is not possible for a Nassé to have nightmares?” Xinthi asked.  She took a sip of her tea.  “When Nassés sleep, we see only a great nothingness unless the goddess sends us a vision.  Sometimes this takes hours and sometimes this takes days or weeks.  When we dream of Naltena, we walk alongside her and speak to her both as her friend and her servant.  She tells us many things—secret things—but much of what we are told is forgotten upon awakening.  We remember only what she wishes us to.  The goddess teaches us in riddles, forcing us to interpret our own dreams before we are able to share them with the world.”

Kirin listened in silence, thrilled by what seemed to be extremely privileged secrets.  It was strange to think that if she were to become the Nassé someday, she too would sleep in this bed and walk with the goddess in her dreams.

Xinthi bowed her head, her white hair falling over her face and allowing Kirin to catch a glimpse of her small, tri-pointed ears.  How exotic!  “As you know, the sleep of a Nassé and her priestesses is meant to be protected by the goddess.  We only dream meaningful dreams, which are never corrupted by triviality or nightmares.  I am the seventeenth Nassé, and none before me have dreamt any differently.”  A hardened line appeared across Xinthi’s jaw. “I regret to say that I am the first Nassé to be abandoned by the goddess.”

“What?”  Kirin couldn’t help but stare, dumbfounded.

“I confess that I should have seen the signs far sooner.  My visions have always been accurate, but my interpretations have at times been flawed.  And my duty is to use my gifts to promote harmony among Naltena’s people, but I suppose it is no secret that my history with your Emperor Ravad has been—tumultuous.”

Kirin nodded.  She had overheard her father discussing the rift between the clergy and the government several times.  Things had become much tenser with the unexpected passing of the sun emperor’s wife last fall, with rumors about the Nassé being either powerless or unwilling to give him any warning counsel.

“I have privately wondered to myself whether I am to blame.  Perhaps my judgment was clouded by my emotions.  I do not feel worthy of punishment, yet Naltena has withdrawn her protection of me, with no sign of how it might return.  Instead, all of my meaningful dreams have departed from me.  I am left with nothing but nightmares.”

Nightmares!  Kirin swallowed hard.  “Are you sure they’re nightmares?  I know that unpleasant dreams often look like—”

“I am very clear on the difference between an unpleasant dream and a nightmare,” Xinthi interrupted curtly.  “I have elucidated dozens of nightmares at the highest level since before you were born.  I do not use the word lightly.”

Kirin nodded.

“This brings me to why I have summoned you here.  I have two questions for you, and I must ask you to be completely honest with me, regardless of how you think I might react.”

Kirin gulped.  What if she didn’t know the answer to Xinthi’s questions?

“First, I must ask if you too are having nightmares.”

“Of course not!” Kirin answered immediately.

“I know what the doctrine says of our immunity to nightmares, but it is very important for me to know where you stand.”

“No—no.  My dreams are intense sometimes, but nothing like that.”  Kirin thought of her recurring dream.  She disliked the way it made her feel, but seeing the Goddess Forest night after night couldn’t be bad.

Xinthi leaned back and sighed.  “So, it has to do with me alone, then.”

Kirin shifted uncomfortably on her knees.  This was all very troubling.  Many dreams were meaningless, but recurring dreams almost always meant there was something to be learned, and once that instruction had been received, they would resolve themselves, even if it took days.  Nightmares were given to chastise and correct, and were usually related to personal failings.  But those were for regular people.  The Nassé and her priestesses were set aside to receive special dreams, most of which were given on behalf of others, and in exchange all priestesses, and even candidates, were exempt from nightmares entirely.  This way, their psyches could remain pure, allowing them to focus on elucidating the recurring dreams of others by identifying and interpreting the symbols without prejudice or bias.  Then the dreamers could more easily resolve their issues and be free of their recurring dreams.  “Couldn’t you have one of your priestesses elucidate your nightmare for you?”

Xinthi smiled sadly.  “I have called upon my chronicler to elucidate and confirm my dreams from time to time.  But never a nightmare.  A nightmare would cast doubt on the validity of all my previous visions.  Instead, I’ve allowed my chronicler to believe that I have had no meaningful dreams for her to record since last fall, since the incident with the empress of Judath.  This cannot last forever.  But it does bring me to my next question.  You clearly know about elucidations.  Have you learned how to perform them?”

“No, of course not,” Kirin stammered, shaking her head.  “I’ve only just barely learned how to shift into the third degree of focus, and I’m not good at it yet.”

“Nonsense,” Xinthi dismissed.  “The third degree is necessary, of course.  However, for elucidations, it is far more important to have wisdom and sensitivity to the goddess’s will.  To elucidate is to ‘make known,’ which is why the skill is so sought after among the nobles, and in fact is often essential to the wellbeing of our empires.”  Xinthi leaned over and took another sip of her tea.  “Would you like to try it?”

“No, thank you.  I don’t drink much tea.”

Xinthi chuckled softly.  “Silly girl, of course I mean elucidation.  Would you like to try elucidating my dream?”

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”  Kirin waved her hands in front of her.  “Elucidation is way too advanced for me.”

“Please,” Xinthi urged simply.  “I must insist.  You lack training, but your house makes you naturally inclined toward matters of the goddess.  Also, you are not yet a priestess and therefore are not subject to their oaths and obligations, nor oversight from the high priests, including the emperors.  As unusual it might be to make this request of you, I’m sure you can imagine how much greater a scandal it would be were the high priests to discover that I have lost favor with the goddess.  The noble summit is beginning soon, and I must have my nightmare resolved before I am called to account for the last two seasons.  This is a duty that the goddess requires of you.”

“Alright, I can try,” Kirin mumbled miserably.  This day was not going at all as she had hoped.

“Excellent.”  Xinthi clasped her hands together and smiled toothily.  “Now, to elucidate my dream, I will need you to observe it as it unfolds and keep track of the events and symbols.  Then when it is concluded, you will report the symbols back to me in precise sequence.  Of course, the more difficult part of elucidation is the interpretation of these symbols, and I will do that myself.  I simply need you to identify and examine the symbols that I cannot perceive while in the dream.”

Kirin frowned.  She couldn’t make sense of her own dreams; how was she supposed to keep track of the symbols in a Nassé’s dream?

“I do feel that I should acknowledge that elucidation does carry its risks,” Xinthi admitted.  “The preparation for elucidation requires us to join our thought matter in a much more complicated way than what is done with a simple projection or cleansing.  But there is nothing to fear.  I will perform the braiding of our thought matter and guide you through the entire process.  Now, if you would please shift into the third degree of focus and tell me when you can see my thoughts.”

Kirin swallowed hard and nodded.  As before, she shifted into the first degree of focus and pushed further, watching as the primal matter materialized and then faded, replaced by a mass of silvery threads that were Xinthi’s thoughts.  “I can see them.”

“Good,” Xinthi’s disembodied voice remarked approvingly.  “Normally, the elucidator is responsible for weaving the braided pattern, but I will perform it.  Please go ahead and release your thoughts.”

“I don’t know how,” Kirin stammered.

“You can start by relaxing.  Think of some pleasant daydream you have had, perhaps a nice memory.  Your thoughts will come out on their own.”

Kirin imagined a platter of steamed milk cakes and was surprised to see silver strands start to loosen and float in front of her eyes.  “Those are my thoughts!” she exclaimed.

“Yes.  I will now take our thoughts and braid them together.  Not too tight, not too loose.”

Kirin watched as Xinthi gathered up her thought matter and began arranging the strands into three separate hanks, then doing the same to her own.

“The pattern is simple but consistent,” Xinthi commented as she worked.  “Unlike other patterns, there is no risk of knotting or tangling.  We simply overlap each hank, one over the other.”  Eventually, their thoughts came together to form a perfect, semi-transparent rope that stretched between their foreheads.

Finished with the preparations, Xinthi continued.  “Now that our thoughts are joined, I will show you my dream.  Do not speak until it’s done, and do not, under any circumstances, break your focus.  When the dream has finished, tell me everything you saw in the exact order you saw it.  No detail is unimportant.  Do you understand?”

Kirin nodded, although she knew Xinthi, who was also in the third degree of focus, couldn’t see her.  “Yes, I do.”

“Good, then we shall begin.”