Chapter 7 - Shava Of The Stream

There is, in the East, at the farthest edge of Bsharre, a rolling meadow. A stream there flows between the meadow, and the great trees beside. It is there that Shava, daughter of El-Heron, the one whom Vanassa cursed, was to be found.

And so BeeSheep flew across the meadow and landed upon the smooth stones that sat beside the stream. And when he saw the maiden, she was still and weeping without tears. So, he buzzed in a humble greeting and bowed before her.

When she saw him, her silent weeping ceased, for it had been a great long while since any creatures had come to visit her.

“Friend BeeSheep,” she called out to him. “Hast thou come to visit me?” and Shava was greatly pleased that he had come to visit, for BeeSheep was not a man, nor a woman to gaze upon her with lust and contempt.

She reached out to him, and he sat in the palm of her hand. And she sat him in the warm and milky waters, and he became soothed from all aches and pains that he might have acquired.

Having been soothed, BeeSheep explained to her why it was that he had come. For the great Psychophant knew where his goddess, Livadi of Far Meadows, was to be found.

However, the Psychophant, being shrewd in his dealings, demanded a face in return. The face of the most beautiful woman in all the land, whom Vanassa had cursed.

“Dearest BeeSheep,” spake Shava, “I was cursed for my exceeding beauty by the very one who gave it to me. When it was told to the nearby towns and villages that I was exceedingly beautiful, men and princes came from across the land, bringing great gifts to entice my father. But he never relented. People from far and wide came just to visit, and gaze upon my beauty. This angered Vanassa, the Digyr of Exceeding Beauty. One day, when I came to this stream to bathe, she came to me, and entrapped me saying, ‘Forever shall you bathe in this stream, may your blood turn into honey, and the waters become milken and revitalizing so that your beauty remains. As long as you are beautiful, you shall be trapped in your nakedness for all to come and see.’ And so it was, that if I tried to leave the stream, great pain befalls me, so much that I cannot even stand.”

“The iniquity of men causes them to come and gaze upon me, and I cannot hide. Merchants come and take of my bathwater and sell it so that it in the markets so as to revitalize and make beautiful those who use it. Everything about me is shame and reproach. If I leave the stream, I am in pain, but if I stay, I am also in pain.”

BeeSheep wiped the tear from his eye. For he did not appreciate what had been to done to Shava, who was so kind and beautiful. And so, he spoke to her, buzzing softly.

“Indeed,” she spake, “for as long as I remain beautiful as I am, I cannot leave my stream. I have tried to mar my figure, but the stream heals swiftly.”

And BeeSheep thought long and hard about this situation. And he realized that the answer was simple. He buzzed in excitement at his realization.

This would be the deal that BeeSheep would barter between them. The Psychophant would take the exceedingly beautiful face of Shava, and in return he would place upon her a new face. Then she would no longer be exceedingly beautiful for she would be wearing new skin. And if the streams healed, they would heal the new face, and not the old.

When Shava heard this, she splashed for joy in her milken stream, and BeeSheep danced too.

“If you do this thing for me, friend BeeSheep,” Shava said, kissing him upon the head. “Your goddess will be my goddess, and I will dwell in her meadows as long as I live.”

When BeeSheep returned to the Psychophant, he explained to him the deal that he had bartered. And the Psychophant was deeply satisfied with this deal, and he ticked with great glee. So, they went to the stream between the meadow of Bsharre, and the great forest.

“Indeed, you are an exceedingly beautiful human,” said the Psychophant as he gazed upon Shava with the empty eyes of a face. He licked his teeth.

“Please, tic, tic, tic,” he said, “allow me to dip my collection in your milken waters, so that they may be moisturized.” and Shava allowed him to do so.

When the Psychophant had completed moisturizing all of his faces, he placed them back into the book atop his abdomen and began to flip through its pages.

“Behold,” spoke the Psychophant, his voice shaking with excitement. 

“I have for the maiden a face. It belonged to a priestess of Kemet, a jester who wore paint to portray the foolery. Her face was beautiful, but forever painted, and therefore not exceedingly beautiful.”

“Let these faces be a tic, tic, tic, covenant.” the Psychophant said. “Let it be a covenant between you, and me, and the maiden. That we will deal kindly with each other as we have promised that I will receive from her a face. And she will receive from me a face. And you shall learn the whereabouts of your goddess, Livadi of Far Meadows.”

And to this, they all agreed.

Then Shava, coming to the edge of the stream, stood, and tilted her face up toward the Psychophant. And the Psychophant leaned in close and took the whole of her face in his mouth. His teeth were long and sharp, like a carpenter's chisel, and they clicked around her face, forming to the shape of it.

Then he scraped his teeth, and the face came away from her, smooth and clean. Then he took the face of the priestess of Kemet and laid it over the golden honey that oozed from her exposed muscle. And the flesh stuck to the honey which Shava bled.

Then she immersed herself in the milken waters, and when she arose, the new face was her face. And there was a rim of gold, like honey around the face where it healed. And so it was that Shava of the stream received a new face.

In all of this, she did not scream.

When the faces had been exchanged, and the exceedingly beautiful face wetted, and placed within the book, the Psychophant turned to BeeSheep, and spoke unto him these words.

“I saw tic, tic, tic, with mine own eyes, the casting down of Livadi, digyr of Far Meadows. I saw how they opened their eyes against her for creating an amalgamation. Funny… how they call you an abomination and yet… I exist. There be dragons ashore, and leviathans in yon froth, and yet…”

“I will uphold my covenant with you and tell you what I saw. I saw Livadi cast down into the very depths of the earth. Down to the very pillars, amidst the fallen ones. They took her eyes and scattered them across the face of the land, so that it would be very difficult for them to be retrieved. Beware, little BeeSheep, for to find your goddess is one thing. To restore her to her former power is an altogether different thing.”

And so, having fulfilled his covenant, and received his face. The Psychophant went on his way.

Then Shava, wearing her new face, stepped out of the milken waters, and she was not in great pain, for no longer was she exceedingly beautiful. And she wept there on the bank of the milken stream, and hugged BeeSheep to her breast.

When she had finished weeping, BeeSheep flew to the nearest town, and bought for her a robe which she could wear.

“You have been the most kind to me,” Shava spoke to BeeSheep. Her voice now sounding like two voices. (This is because she was wearing a different face, and sometimes the spirit of the face resides within it and speaks with the voice of the wearer.)

“Allow me to accompany you on your journey,” she requested, “for it has been generations since I have left my stream, and I would like to see the land.”

And so, Shava and BeeSheep went on their way.