Between Darkness and Light Trilogy

by Brianna Hawthorne

  “Was the moon destroyed?”

  “No, but it was displaced; forced out of it's proper orbit. The effect on Shiral was astounding – the sun seemed to flare in response, blinding those unfortunate enough to have looked up to see what was happening. The temperature rose startlingly…” It had always been a story from ancient history to me, but now that I understand the truth of Shiral, the true horror of it strikes me like lightening.

  “Shi'ahn, are you alright?”

  Act normal! He can't know the truth. “Ah, yes. Sorry. It is said that a strange voice rang out from the heavens, no one understood the language, but then the light dimmed to proper levels, the temperature began to drop back to normal, and the voice rang out again, this time in true words. It said, “Don't do that again!” That incident brought about the first worldwide cooperative effort on Shiral – all Technologists were taken from their homes and placed in a highly guarded valley until the leaders of all other sects agreed upon their fate. Death, the utter and absolute annihilation of all technologists, it was declared, was the only way to make sure they couldn't attempt such a heresy again. And yet, as the taking of a sacred life was anathema, it was decided to let Shiral herself exact that toll. The poles of Shiral are awash in strange, dangerous radiations, and the rock at the southern pole guaranteed that there would be no shelter available to any who stayed for long. In an act of almost contrition, the condemned were allowed to take with them any supplies they deemed might give them a chance to survive. That minimal act of mercy carried on throughout the millennia – which, unbeknown to the people, became critical to the survival of those already in that radiation blasted land. You see, they tunneled underneath the surface - deep underneath. They eventually became a far greater technological power than they had been when free, but they lacked certain resources that were well provided by new exiles. The intent behind their exile may have been less than honorable, but the final result was quite impressive.”

  Lucian stares intently at me, “I see. That makes far more sense, I suppose I can accept that. Now you mentioned that you studied with them?”

  “Yes, when I had the chance.”

  “You didn't, by chance, study computer programming with them, did you?”

  “Of course. That much was my duty.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think of it, they had nearly destroyed our world long ago, and from what I learned recently, they were close to having all the materials necessary to build space ships again. In order to protect Shiral, I had to learn about their computer systems, I had to be in a position to shut them down if I learned they were doing anything truly dangerous.”

  “I see. Perhaps that explains something that has quite surprised most of us - your unexpected skills in securing computers.”

  I smile, “Aha, so you admit to attempting to break back into my computer?”

  He smiles back, “If I must. So tell me, how do you, who come from such a less sophisticated world, know enough about computers to frustrate even the best here in Lumina?”

  “The theories are simple, it's my method I suspect frustrates you.”

  “And that method would be?”

  “The same that I use for everything.”

  “And that is?”

  “I'm sorry, Lucian, I do not know how to describe hearing to the deaf. You heard my best attempt at my first dinner here, I have not found a better way to describe it.”

  “Very well, Shi'ahn, but you should know that brandishing about unexplained skills, and, for that matter, outwitting even our best computer specialists, is not a good way to gain people's confidence here. At least, not when you are seemingly so young and inexperienced. There are those who have surmised that it may indeed be you behind our current predicament.”

  “What! How could they, they saw what nearly happened to me! You don't believe them, do you?”

  “No, I do not. Your primary accusers are somewhat prejudiced against you. However, one whom I trust far more is convinced of your innocence.”

  I can't help it, I feel betrayed, even though you can't truly be betrayed by those who don't at least seemingly care for you. Lucian continues,

  “Don't worry, Shi'ahn, I do not feel that their accusations are worthy of being passed on to the Emperor.” He pauses and looks around for a moment, “Tell me, how do you find your accommodations? Satisfactory, I hope?”

  The subject change is rather abrupt, but I welcome it. “This is a very nice suite, Lucian, and I thank you for allowing me to stay here. I have truly enjoyed the library, it is most informative.”

  “And the music corner, have you enjoyed it as well?”

  “No… music is most beautiful when there is the harmony of multiple players. I have been accompanying myself for far too long; I find little joy in it.” He looks intrigued.

  “If we finish our breakfast soon, perhaps there will be time for me to help you a bit with that.” I do not need further encouragement, I dig in and eat my fill as fast as I can, within reason, of course. Lucian smiles slightly as he eats at a far more leisurely pace. When we are finished, he moves to the music corner and begins playing the drum set, looking expectantly at me. I return his playful smile and pick up a violin. First one note, sounding out both it and the room. When it is time I join in fully with a theme that speaks both of the sea and of the free, passionate nature of the gypsy. He casts a spell to keep the rhythm going, then picks up another instrument. He’s good. We play as such for a short while, then he tosses me a flute. I toss him the violin and take up the flute, and our music does not pause in the slightest. It’s wonderful, we keep switching instruments flawlessly, then he tosses me one before I am truly finished with my current one. The music must flow; I extend my mind as I had learned to do on Shiral, and continue to play the instrument remotely as I take up my new ‘assignment’.

  We toss many instruments between us; I end up simultaneously controlling nine before the song ends. He is no slouch either – he is the best musician I’ve played with since childhood. His smile is like no other I have seen, complex to be sure, but on the whole, happy.

  When our song is at its end I throw myself into his arms and spin us around. “Lucian, you’re wonderful! I haven’t had that much fun since…” Since Mathair and I were together… I let go of him as my thoughts run wild. Do I dare ask him? Quakes of fear and doubt threaten to overtake me, but I force the words out quietly, “Lucian… are you my father?” I’m awarded with something I hadn’t thought possible from him, a briefly unguarded look of absolutely surprised disbelief.

  “Shi'ahn, what has made you suspect that?” He truly looks confused, my fear fades, but the doubt rises dramatically.

  “You are the most skilled musician I have met since Mathair, and… well, how do I say this? I’ve often wondered what the man she loved enough to create a child with must have been like. My memories of the man who took her away are truly unimpressive, he couldn’t possibly have been her husband – she would have loved someone far more… amazing. Music was extremely important to her, I’m certain my father must have been a musician. Now, after the wonderful music we just made… I think she would have loved a man like you.” My words trail off as he continues to stare at me disbelievingly.

  “Tell me, Shi'ahn, are there any other reasons you now suspect me to be your father?” He looks like he thinks I’m out of my mind. Sigh.

  “I know we got off to a bad start, and I had even sworn to hate you, but lately you have become far kinder to me than any other man here; aside from Casanova, but his intentions are most un-fatherly. I have looked into your eyes as you smiled down at me – and I have sensed no deception – only happiness. Quite frankly, I don’t want any of the other men here to be my father. A man who ignores his own children is no father, he is merely a donor.” He stays silent for a moment.

  “Shi'ahn, I honestly hate to disappoint you, then, but I assure you that I am not your father.” My heart sinks like a stone in a bottomless lake - so this is what th
e phrase ‘dashed hopes’ refers to. “Besides, I can't be your Lumina ancestor, for I am not of the Nebulaean branch.”

  “Lucian, why has everyone here always assumed I'm a Nebulaean?”

  “You don't know?”

  “How could I?”

  He pauses in thought. “It's for several reasons, really, but the most obvious is your complexion. You appear impervious to even the most intense radiation, you even withstood the direct light of the spire for an entire day without flushing or tanning in the slightest. For your first ever extended exposure to it, at least some reaction was expected, especially as you are not yet attuned to it.”

  “Why does that mark me a Nebulaean? Isn't everyone here impervious to it?”

  “The early generations were nearly so, but we have become more susceptible as the family blood thins. For most of us, our coloration reflects to a certain extent how much time we spent outdoors before ascending the Path. You, however, are more like either the first generations, or like Nebulaea. She was star stuff at first, you must realize. The legends of her unusual birth are true. Those of her line are also partially made of the stuff of the Universe, and so therefore are not susceptible to solar radiation, or much else, for that matter.”

  “But hasn't that line's blood diffused as well?”

  “Not much, for you see they don't procreate often. It takes a very special mate indeed to join successfully with one of you. In a way, I'm surprised Novanus ever managed to have a child, his son was thought to be quite the miracle. Apparently he worked very hard to find a woman who could properly take to his seed, and legend says the mother soon died, and Coronus was transferred to an artificial womb. The difficulty of the 'birth' was believed to be the reason the two became so close; he likely knew that he would never manage another.”

  Once again my heart fills with regret for Novanus – was it that experience that made him the bastard he is today? “And Nebulaea has borne no more sons?”

  “I do not believe so, although that isn't to say that a daughter couldn't take on male form.”

  “What? Are you saying my ancestors can change forms?”

  “Of course - how do you think Nebulaea herself took human form? The skill isn't confined to that line, of course, though for my line it is far more difficult to learn.

  “You mean, everyone here can change their forms just like the Chaosians?”

  “No, very few can – it is against the nature of our realm, after all. Only those of us who have worked very hard to master the skill are capable of it.”

  “And you?”

  He pauses in contemplation, then smiles dangerously. “I am a spy, Shi'ahn.”

  “Ah yes, I suppose that skill would be invaluable to you.” He merely smiles and nods. I continue, smiling playfully “So, spy, I'm Nebulaean because I'm pale?”

  He matches my smile, “Well, you're also extremely dense.”

  An insult? “Excuse me?”

  He laughs, “Not mentally – physically. Trapped within you, within your cells and within the dimensions of which you are composed, is a tremendous amount of matter and energy. Enough, I believe, for you take on celestial form if you should learn to harness them.”

  Suddenly this is no longer enjoyable. “All right, now you are taking advantage of my inexperience, perhaps you should return to your investigations.”

  He looks unpleasantly surprised, “No, Shi'ahn, I'm quite serious. Here, let me show you.” He seems to concentrate for a moment, and a large device appears in the middle of the room, looking somewhat like a dark mirror with a dial on one side. A knock on the door surprises me, and he tells the visitor to enter. “I have asked one of the Bodhicitta, a priest, to join us, so that I may demonstrate. Mikail, please step behind the scanner. The man complies without question, and I see the scanner is similar to a technologist's x-ray machine, and yet quite different. “This is his physical makeup, as you can see, his vital organs appear as light shadows, his bones somewhat darker.” He twists a dial and the priest appears as slight swirls of light. “This is a visualization of the dimensions within him. Thank you, Mikail, you may go now.” As Mikail walks toward the door, I listen to him, trying to discern through Harmony what the scanner just showed me. As soon as the door closes, Lucian explains, “The priests, due to the nature of their duties, are among the most powerful of the city's populace, and so the results of his scans were more pronounced than those of an average citizen.” Then he twists the knob back to its original position and steps behind the scanner himself. His image is far, far darker than the priest's. The knob twists, and bright swirls of color replace his body image, there is obviously far more power within him than the priest possessed, which is entirely logical. I listen to him, and search for the differences; he is obviously more vibrant than the priest, and the most prevalent color is the exact violet of the Spire. He steps out and gestures toward the scanner, “If you would?”

  I step behind it and he holds up a mirror so that I may see my image. No internal details are discernible. “I'm black!”

  “No, you're dense, even more so than Aurora, who, by the way, can take celestial form. And now…” He twists the dial and I become a pillar of nearly blinding light.

  “What?”

  “Wait.” He twists the dial further, and I appear brilliant red. He continues moving the dial, and my image turns many colors, one for each click of the dial. On the last, violet, my image is far weaker. I listen to both the image and myself throughout, and think I can discern the harmonies of each scan, though I do not know what they represent. They are much louder in me than in others, which I had always believed was because it's me and not someone else – I hadn't ever though it was because these things are stronger in me than in others of Lumina. I'm still not sure I believe it.

  I step quickly out, “What does it mean?”

  He gestures, and the scanner disappears. “I'm not entirely sure, aside from the obvious fact that, as shown in the last image, you have not yet ascended The Path.”

  “Is William like this?”

  He shakes his head, “Similar, yes, but not to this extent. Even Aurora is not so excessively filled with latent power as you are.”

  “So, everyone knows this about William and I?”

  He stifles a laugh, “No. This technology is not currently in favor. The Emperor isn't fond of anything implies that others may be superior to him, in any way.”

  “Then how do you know about this device?”

  He smiles playfully, “I'm a spy – remember? I'm not the only one who knows of it, of course. All the previously known Nebulaeans predate Emperor Augustus, and so remember the use of many devices now nearly forgotten. A few of those who appeared at your first family dinner may know of your potential, but they do not tend to interact with the Emperor. No, only the Nebulaeans, the Cailliach, some of the ancients and I, of course, know of your… unusual nature. I highly recommend you keep it that way.

  “Will you not have to report it to the Emperor?”

  “If he happens to word his demand for information in such a way that I cannot withhold any information, then yes. However I have become quite adept at directing our conversations so as to avoid subjects that I do not wish to discuss. I do not plan to mention this tidbit of information, it does not directly affect the current investigation, and I am certain it would only make him dislike you even further.” His voice turns contemplative, “I do wonder, though, perhaps this is why Novanus hates you so – for most of his extensive existence, only Aurora and the Cailliach have outshone him in these respects; he may merely be jealous.” Suddenly he returns to our previous topic, “Tell me, Shi'ahn, do you have any reason for believing that it was your father who is your Lumina ancestor?”

  “Not directly. It's just that… I remember my mother quite well, and I've found no records of anyone here who resembles her in the slightest.”

  “She could have been in an altered form.”

  “True, I suppose, but there was a feel about her – she did
not seem like anyone here.”

  “Shi'ahn, would you be willing to share your memories of her with me? I would be able to discern whether or not she was someone I had met before.”

  He has been quite nice lately; I guess it couldn't hurt. Besides, he is a spy, maybe he can help me find her? I let one of my favorite memories of her fill my mind, her creamy skin, light and yet still slightly darker than mine, hair so black it seemed almost blue, falling in curls down to her knees. Her indigo eyes seemed as though they were fashioned for the nearly exclusive purpose of expressing love, and her voice: glorious perfection. Her soul tender and caring, the ultimate expression of loving beauty. I reach out for Lucian and he takes my hand, then inhales quick and deeply.

  “Exquisite; I can see how she could captivate any man, in any form.”

  “Do you recognize her? Could she be my Lumina parent?”

  “No, I do not. Yet it is hard to believe that she is not of Lumina – she, at least in your memory, has a special feel to her. She appears to be a being far superior to most, even to the more powerful Chaosians. Perhaps your Mother was a thus far unknown Nebulaean?” He looks down into my confused expression, then continues, “Nebulaea has kept to herself for a very long time now, and so no one really knows if she has had more children. There are, of course, Solaria and Cassiopeia, but nothing has been heard of them for a very, very long time. I personally suspect that they are no longer among us, although they are not among those in stasis either. To the best of my knowledge, neither of them ever bore children. I do suspect, though, that you should no longer concern yourself with searching for a father that may well not have survived long, and concentrate on searching for unknown Nebulaean daughters, for I cannot fathom the woman who could have carried a child such as yourself, unless she was one of us.”