by Cara Violet
The hierarchy shifts,
The Rivalex Marked Identity creates Revolution.
No trespass against liberties shall go unseen,
One Relic will forge the strength to end Siliou connection.
Those who interfere will perish,
No-one shall travel outside their realm.
A universe hindered with war will blossom into oblivion,
If and when, Holom breaks free. BI
“You must understand that we will not let this happen. The universe as we know it, the Siliou, our means of Euclidean Vector travel, will be not be harmed while we are in control and have singular control over space.”
The audience had calmed down and most were reading the prophecy behind the Principals.
“Did we really have to be this honest with them? If it’s just a small team job?” Aradar said condescendingly to Prudence.
“General, we need all eyes open,” she retorted. “As far as we’ve been told the Necromancers got nowhere. Complete shemozzle. We need them to pay attention. Please take the floor, tell them the incentive and get the support from the five. But don’t make this a big deal. You understand?”
General Aradar launched himself out of his chair, thinking this was, in fact, a big deal. He clutched his fist to his thick orchid chestplate in patriotic pride and began, “I am the General of the greatest army in the universe, I am a humble servant of the Felrin,” he paused, looking around at the blank faces, “and we, as peacekeepers and government of the galaxy, ask of you, for your own pledge to us …
“We need you to keep your eyes open … There is a big bounty for her to be found, a lot of Felrin gold at stake. Be watchful of a single Gorgon girl fleeing from planet to planet to hide … we need to find her. Her last known location was on Earth. A planet in the Solar system, in the Milky Way Galaxy. Unfortunately, not a System in our galaxy or associated with the Universal Order. So, we would need you scanning travel stringently. That is, if you want to keep our Conductors at your gates? To keep your means of travel intact and continue to share the knowledge between each other?” Aradar looked for his five key System representatives to back him. The blue strands of hair caught his eye.
The blue-skinned Aquamorph from Hyravane raised himself off his allocated seat. “The Hyravane System will back this motion, and pledge Aquamorphs to search for the Mark.”
Aradar nodded at Adrian as he sat back down.
The bushy-haired Valendean local, Owen from the Dowaric System followed. “You have our full support; the Dowaric System will pledge men in the search.” The Kinsmen Ranger, in his grey hooded overcoat, smirked in pride. “We will unite with the Felrin and share any suspect information to ensure she is caught soon.”
“And you have my allegiance.” Queen Maya Atronix stated. A façade of blue and green feathers flowed on and down her robe. Her floor-length green hair framed her white, painted face. “The Giliou are in support of and with the Felrin every step of the way,” she said, and swiftly sat back down.
The silence hung. Aradar’s fourth ally began to stir, preparing to assert his support, but was drowned out by the audience applauding thunderously.
Aradar turned to the three Principals with a look of complete satisfaction.
Prudence nodded.
She had just what she wanted. The universe had its eyes open without making this a full-scale concern. It wouldn’t be long before the Mark was caught. The Felrin had control of so much of the universe it seemed absurd to her that one girl could slip by them. Dersji’s training, she thought. And then she huffed at the idea that they had agreed to the bond between the two of them all those years ago. If she had her time over, she would have castigated Dersji and set the Chimaera on them both. Pity it turned out how it did.
No matter, she smiled for the crowd and then waved her hand and said, “If you are pledging specific resources to the search please let us know, otherwise all details will be provided by General Aradar. Again, this is under our control and will be contained accordingly.”
The quarter summit continued and various other topics were bantered about—feuds between certain planets, ‘broken’ Conductors to be replaced, pushing for the legislation allowing other species to have ships in space besides the Felrin. All these matters passed by Prudence. Keeping the galaxies in order was always her highest priority and she enjoyed watching trivial matters consume them. It kept them completely ignorant to anything else the Felrin were up to, and that worked just fine for her.
When the last item reached its conclusion, she stood up and spoke one last time, “Please, fellow members: enjoy more food and beverage and perhaps another game of Farcry. Until the sun readies its rise, we thank you, star system friends.”
Chapter Four: The Execution
“Kaianan of the Gorgon, we finally have you captive in our Realm Room after your escapade through the streets of Earth and it is your time to be prosecuted.” Ulysus said as his voice bounced around the empty concrete room. He smiled at her sitting complacently in his white throne chair.
Kaianan remembered his kind-eyed face from the night she was nearly killed on Earth. The leader of the Day Morphs, wound in white fabric, scratched his gangly white beard. Actually, Kaianan thought Ulysus held a striking resemblance to Boku Jove.
“You’re dead to us!” the Leader of Night interjected, and Kaianan watched his spit fall onto his dark beard.
Yuck.
Varrid, sitting in the black throne chair was the complete opposite to Ulysus, dressed in black robes, he had black hair down to his backside and a black beard down to his tummy. His eyes were a lot beadier and his mouth twitched more often then he blinked, which Kaianan realised was seldom. The two older men were full of wrinkles and Kaianan felt they both were quite bitter toward one another with the way they looked at each other.
“Wipe your face up, you snotty nose leech,” Ulysus said agitated. Varrid wiped his black robes and hair of residual saliva. “Damn Vampires …” Ulysus muttered to himself, and then realised she was watching.
“Queen,” he summoned his jovial attention back to her, “you have made a very rash decision coming back here and showing your face. You are wanted by many and thus again you will bring unwanted and unneeded terror through our Euclidean Vector to Earth. You have been trialled during your previous visit and found to be guilty of killing a member of the Underworld Council and exposing our world to the humans above. You treat this as if it’s your home, as you return for the second time, broadcasting your arrival to millions of preforms in our city and out to our world.” He lifted up a mobile device, streaming a video of the stadium Kaianan had fallen into. The video played and showed her dropping from the sky, accompanied by a close up of her speaking to Reddy.
Oh, this is just riveting … YouTube? What is that? Really? Untrustworthy humans.
“Your life is ours now and so is your accomplice.” Varrid cut in, clawing his rough hands onto the arms of his black throne chair. “You will be tried again and this time your head will be dismantled from your body.”
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Ulysus asked, more placid than his associate.
Kaianan looked up to the Underworld leaders from her knees, against the two Morphs grappling her arms tight behind her, and remembered Arlise told her to be silent. But what of Reddy? What was the plan for him? “What about the boy?”
“Ah, so you do have words. Don’t worry, he is next.” Varrid smirked as a bound boy was kicked across the back of the room. Kaianan kept her eyes on the distraught Reddy until he disappeared. She said nothing further and dropped her head.
“So be it.” Varrid stood up and looked to another two Morphs to his right. “Get the Gall Chamber ready. I want the Reaper here for this one. Gather the audience. She will be beheaded within the hour.”
The Gall Chamber was full of spectating Day and Night Morphs, standing around the edges of the sewer staring at her. Radiating red or yellow eyes, the Underworld scrutinised every step Kaianan
took. Her mind recalled the Morphs of the Underworld attacking her on Earth during her last visit. The pale-faced blood eaters, the animalistic half-breed preforms; it was so strange.
This also made her think of Julius again. The last time they were together. The last time she trusted him. He was fighting for her. Why? Why would he try to kill these savage creatures, only to go back to Sile, back to his family and be the person he swore he didn’t want to become?
The Morphs were hissing and spitting in her direction, breaking her concentration. She tried not to dwell why they did such horrid things. Yet she knew, she was an outerworlder, a foreigner and a monster who killed one of their own. Could she really blame them for the animosity?
Shuffling forward like a helpless beggar in bounds that wrapped her hands and feet, she could not count all the pairs of eyes; at least a hundred viewers jeered her on while the guards dragged her body up to the platform with a single wooden box on it.
Blood had stained the box and Kaianan had a nauseating feeling stab her in the gut when she looked at it. The next minute, a huge man in black floating robes was tightening his grip on his huge hatchet next to the box, and under his hood she could only see white teeth and large black eyes.
She clenched her teeth; this was it; this would be the last thing she would see before she died.
“Welcome, witnesses!” Varrid boomed from the back of the Morphs. He sat with Ulysus on a raised platform. “We are privileged to watch the execution of the highest bounty. Queen Kaianan is wanted in every galaxy and star system around the universe and we the mighty Underworld of Earth have her.”
The crowd roared in excitement.
“Any last words, perpetrator?” Varrid glared at her.
What should she say? Make a declaration of innocence? Of being uncontrollable as a Gorgon? Perhaps they would show lenience?
“Nothing? Nothing at all?” Varrid asked.
Kaianan’s jaw bones were burning from how tightly she was clenching. She bit her tongue; she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a retort.
“Fine,” Varrid spat, “place her head down and let the execution begin.”
The crowd was going insane with noise, screaming and calling out for her head.
The two Morphs hauled her down over the ledge of the box where the blood had dried. If she wasn’t so weak, she may have tried to fight back, instead, her body flopped in response and did exactly as they wanted; neck turned and hands clasped behind her back, she was in position. “Lovely.” She scrunched up her face, twisted against her restraints, fumed at her weakness and prayed this would be quick.
“Now, Reaper, we want a nice clean cut—” Varrid began but then stopped. All the noise had suddenly stopped. It was deadly quiet.
What was going on? Kaianan couldn’t see anything.
The silence was overtaken by a creek of a sewer latch above them streaming bright white light and then a voice sounded:
“Please stop where you are! This is the Federal Police! You are under arrest!” A loud filtered or muffled voice projected down into the room like an echo. On top of that Kaianan heard animals bark, sirens sound, and the room set up for her execution had just become a loud, screaming and crying mess of Underworld Morphs running about in fury.
“It’s the damn humans!” Varrid shouted. “Kill her, Reaper!”
Fear pulsed through her. She struggled against the two Morphs. The swishing of the Reaper’s black cloak grazed her body. She gulped and slammed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to die. Every inch of her body was tense. Kaianan scrunched her shoulders up to protect her neck and waited, heart pumping like crazy, for the blade that was to sever her head from her body.
Chapter Five: The Moral Compass
Winter had arrived on Rivalex. Xandou stared out the floor-length temporary Manor window watching the strong winds blow against the efforts being made by the Giliou to reconstruct the Gorgon City of Layos, and in closer proximity, the bailey wall. Employed hands had redeveloped numerous bluestone dwellings and set up multiple camp sites for the surviving Insurgents. The only positive about being a city in the north, unlike Sile in the south, the snow didn’t fall, so it was cold but not cold enough to riddle the Insurgents with frostbite or excessive illness. Xandou took slight comfort in this, but it wasn’t enough.
He breathed out and dropped his chin down to his azure robes, the robes that represented a people of ‘protecting and serving others’ and sighed; no longer a perfect crisp and pressed tunic clung to him, no longer innocence graced his hands; battle-worn and weary, he had attained experience through death. His mind flashed back to the Manor, to the fighting and butchery at the hands of the Necromancers and to losing his King and Queen. The Layos royals were like his parents, he held back the tears just thinking about them.
His fellow Giliou had repeated their questions to him for the past few days: ‘are you okay?’ ‘Are you well?’ He simply nodded in reply. Was he okay? His fingers went to his porcelain cheek, rough from stubble, then to his long platinum blonde hair, tangled and unkempt, even the shaven right side of his scalp was growing back in.
No. He wasn’t okay. A deep feeling surging in his chest stirred confliction in him; anger toward Sile, and Metrix, for sparking a civil war on Rivalex, and anger at himself for allowing Kaianan to be put in this position—unknowing of her Kan’Ging aura and Dersji Brikin, and on her way to rescue her last surviving family member without him.
He tightened the piece of parchment he had in his hand. Which, he held more anger toward, he had no idea.
“Xandou, how goes you?” the female voice bounced around the Manor Guest Hall breaking his thoughts.
Xandou turned, shifting his gaze left to right and eventually laying his bright blue pupils on Yasminx. Yasminx was smiling, suited in her body-hugging Giliou Shielder robes as she stood between the half-broken mirrors, destroyed Miry furniture and fragmented crystal chandelier of the Guest Hall.
“Are you okay?”
There was that question again. As if looking directly into his soul, the look of outright concern on her dark-skinned face framed by her long wavy blonde hair, spoke volumes.
“Aye, of course.” He lied.
“You know I’ve missed you, Xandou” she said.
Missed me? Xandou felt the nostalgia hit him. The leggy Shielder pulled her arms up and out. Warmth radiated around her and Xandou could see her eyes glisten bright blue when she got closer to him. Smiling through platinum white teeth and a shimmery silver lip ring, she launched into him, in a bear hug.
“I’m fine Yasminx,” he said, releasing her.
She nodded sourly as she stood back. “How is the communication coming along with Queen Maya?” she asked, watching him shove the piece of parchment inside his robe.
“I have been invited to see her this afternoon.” He said blankly. “I am not too sure if it will be a trap I will be walking into.”
“I will go with you.” An air of confidence in her tone. Xandou had known Yasminx for the majority of his childhood. A cousin, like Metrix, to royal blood, Yasminx and her family dwelled within the Forsda Palace to keep the solitary Queen company. Yasminx was one of the most exquisite and astute Giliou in all of Forsda. She was well cultured, of high rank and could step in line to lead at the next change of ruling, should Maya select her over Metrix. Well, she would now, knowing that Xandou was a fugitive and Metrix was no longer tied to him. He shuddered at the thought of Metrix and realised the nostalgia was indeed screwing with him.
But Yasminx deserved the chance to become queen still, if word got back she was with Xandou, she could jeopardise her right to the throne.
“No, I need you here with Desrix and the others, Yasminx.” Xandou said firmly. “I need you to stabilise Layos and get the Gorgons and Giliou Insurgence back into a pragmatic training routine.”
She frowned and almost as if in spite, answered him. “Yes, Master Xandou. We will do what we can. There have been whispers of a wedding in Sile. The Prince and Prince
ss to marry. A King to be crowned.”
“Aye, I’ve heard the rumours too; I am unsure what to make of it. Whether a coronation will transpire or the change of rule happens, I would like to know a lot more of the process.”
“Upon your return, perhaps we could visit Sile?” she said.
Xandou smiled. He took in the antagonism present in her pursed, pierced, plump lips. “Perhaps Yasminx, yes, I think we may have to. In the meantime, did you get word on Lord Raquel?”
“Yes, I believe Desrix has had him dwell in the Far quarter chambers. I would presume he is questioning him now.”
“Thank you, Yasminx. I really do appreciate everything it is you do.”
She stood closer to him and Xandou caught the sudden smell of her scent—what was it? Oh, yes, the Giliou frangipari. When did she have time to smell this good? Such a sweet smell passed through his nose, a sweet smell of a beautiful Giliou woman who cared about him … He objected to that thought as soon as it came. What was he doing? There was a city at stake—he could not dwell in her presence any longer. Not yet.
“Xandou, we do what is right, for Giliou the Wise and our beliefs. I know how capable you truly are. Everyone is behind you. You need to know that… You don’t have to think you’re alone in this.”
He pushed a wayward lock off her face. Not alone? “Ah, dear Yasminx…” he began, then stopped. The Giliou didn’t need to know all his weaknesses and flaws, let alone his lonesomeness. “… well, I have you, now, and the others … that gives me a pretty good moral compass.”
“You’ve always had a good moral compass, Xandou.” Yasminx said matter-of-factly.
“Oh yes, you’re right.”
“You’ve never been one to be silent about that either.”
Was he really that obnoxious? Why could he tell the universe about his morality for propriety and decorum, yet not tell Kaianan the truth? “Tyranny anywhere is a threat against the very ideology of the Giliou justice we believe in. Giliou the Wise broke away from Felrin to start a whole new colony on Felderin to do this. I will not put his name to shame. We are the guards of the Siliou, always.”