Godling (Kairenz Jistora Book 1)

by Dusks, Rydre

  His expression was stern. “And how’s your frantic flailing about and constant worry going to help? You’ll just get in Z’kada’s way and probably stress your kid out.

  I took some deep, careful breaths to calm my screaming mind. Patience wasn’t a friendly concept right now. I wanted nothing more than to be there for Stelliot.

  “Listen, I realize you’re terrified for him.” The man’s voice had softened with understanding. “But I’m asking you to trust us. You’d trust the Strejca if they ran off with your boy to take care of him, wouldn’t you?”

  “...Yes. I would.”

  “So I’m asking the same thing. We’re sister organizations. Our work here is just as trustworthy as the Strejca’s.”

  He hadn’t convinced me fully, but he was more composed than I was, and thinking rationally. He placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me over to the table with the two other Daliq'ehete, lowering me into a chair across from them. One of them, a guy with curly brown hair, stood and walked over to a water container, pouring a glass.

  "My name is Tragedy," said the man with the headband. "Tragedy En'siq." He sat down next to me as the other man placed the glass in front of me as well as a measly heated dinner. I thanked him, too hungry to care what the meal consisted of. "So who are you?" Tragedy asked as I took a sip of the water before starting on the food. "Iasona aren't allowed into Ifearor right now. Did they let you in because you have Anli coloration?"

  Gradually I introduced myself and explained my reason for being here between mouthfuls. He asked a lot of questions, and it was hard to keep concentration and cover them all, but I managed. I'd finished another glass of water as well as a second dish once I was done.

  "So let me get this straight," Tragedy started, his cool eyes skeptical. "You believe yourself to be a god incarnate. In some strange manner you teleported clear from the Rove Desert to Alker, Lenta, then realized it took you two years. Then traveled clear across the Mirrored Plains and rounded up into Ifearor in just two days?"

  I nodded once.

  He didn't believe me. I read it easily in his expression. Any cool-minded, smooth-thinking Kairenzi wouldn't believe in the supernatural right away.

  "I'm not going to call you crazy, because I'm sure that's what you're expecting to hear. What I am going to say is that in my eyes, it sounds like you took a nasty fall off your bike and wound up in Alker after two years of no memory."

  "But you're wrong," I countered. "When I teleported I ended up in this dimensional crack, and my brother held half my body in Agastay for those two years. I was quite literally half a person. And my proof is with my family."

  "Your metallic friend outside is proof that you got through the Mirrored Plains unscathed, but I don't think I can swallow that bit about gods and dimensions. Sorry."

  I glanced at the other Daliq'ehete.

  "They don't know Iasona," said Tragedy. "Most of us speak a little New Soul, but besides that you're going to get an earful of Ifearian and that's it."

  One of the members mentioned something to Tragedy, in which Tragedy replied in Ifearian that I couldn’t dream of keeping up with. But other than that the other two Daliq'ehete kept an isolated conversation to themselves.

  I changed the subject. Not because I was uncomfortable, but because I wanted to get Stelliot's state off my mind as much as possible. Every inch of me screamed to be there for him, and I knew the illogical side of me was winning. I wanted to bolt out of my chair and go find him.

  "You know a man named Va'th Kaliqaiah?"

  Tragedy perked up at the name, and so did the other man across the table from us.

  "He told me he used to be a part of the Daliq'ehete for a while before moving to Iason to become a Strejc."

  "Kasu," Tragedy agreed. "Va'th was with us for a time. He keeps in touch with us, actually."

  "How often?"

  "Fairly. Last we heard from him was a couple days ago."

  "Oh? How is he doing?"

  Tragedy's face darkened considerably. For a moment he was quiet, and his eyes moved from my face to stare over by the water dispenser in the corner of the room. "He told us Era's officers have abused the Strejca right and left. So far any Strejc caught outside of confinement are beaten nearly to death. Machines are going crazy in GreyCross, and a lot of people have locked themselves inside their houses because of the chaos out on the streets."

  "Of course Era isn't doing anything about this, because he's a machine too," I uttered.

  "Right. Va'th's been working for Saydea of the Future. He had to end his affiliation with the Strejca to survive."

  "Sounds like you know a lot about what's going on. Do you know how to reach him?"

  Tragedy shook his head. "He calls from an unspecified number. It's untraceable--we've tried. We even offered for him to come here for safety, but he refused because he can't get out of GreyCross. The most we can do is feed each other information when we can, and work off that. You showed back up out of nowhere at a very bad time, Strejc."

  I didn't reply to him. I hadn't had a choice. If I could commune with another of the gods, I may have had a good chance at hunting down Crane and disposing of him. Right now I wasn't even sure how to get out of Ifearor.

  "That robot outside looks like a good mount. Have you considered just taking it straight into GreyCross from the skies?" he asked, clearly thinking about the same dilemma I had.

  I shook my head. "I can't do that. Iason has an airborne security system--Super Machines around the Tower--I'd be spotted before I even got close."

  "Not true. Ifearor's winning the war right now, friend. We've taken out most of Iason's airborne SMs. The only thing you would need to watch out for are the grounded ones."

  I gave a soft sound of agreement. Perhaps it would work. It was something that would take careful planning though. I couldn't leave anyway--there was Stelliot to stress about.

  Thinking of him again I impulsively stood from the table, startling the others. After realizing I'd already gotten up I breathed, "I want to check on my son," and headed for the door.

  "Wait, Strejc--" Tragedy started, standing from the table as well.

  I didn't make it far. The last thing I recorded in my consciousness was a slow stop at the door frame, then a drop to the floor.

  I awoke to hot water splashing across my front. My eyes snapped open and I sat up, sloshing water out the side of the tub that I rested in. A little reminiscent of my ballistic rage in Roavo, I looked around hastily, wondering where I was. Tragedy crouched beside me on the other side of the tub, a cup in his hand, positioned in the way of having thrown its contents over my body. I was in a ritzy bathroom, probably deeper in the Daliq'ehete station.

  "You're the relentless type, aren't you?" Tragedy commented as he set the glass down on the side of the tub.

  I checked myself over. I'd been left in my clothes, minus my coat and shoes. The hot water felt good.

  "The only reasons I'm in here instead of Z'kada is because I'm the only one who speaks Iasona, and she's still busy with your kid."

  "Stelliot," I breathed. "How is he?"

  "He's fine. He's been asleep since you got here two hours ago. Z'kada told me he'll live, so there's no need to panic." He paused. "You were saying some really weird things in your sleep."

  "...I was talking in my sleep," I restated, pushing my groggy mind into comprehending. "What was I talking about?"

  Tragedy simply shrugged, looking away. "I wasn't going to wake you, but figured I would after you started acting really uncomfortable."

  I was concerned about Tragedy knowing any secrets I may have shared, but figured it was best to leave it alone.

  "Why did you put me in a bathtub?" I asked after a lengthy minute.

  "You fell into shock after you collapsed. We thought you were still conscious because you were trembling, but you weren't responding to us, so I took you in here. You went really cold, so I’ve been adjusting the temperature of the water to get your heat back to normal."
<
br />   I felt a little embarrassed but didn't understand. Why would I fall into shock? Sure, it'd been a long trip, but I'd eaten and drunk.

  "I explained your symptoms to Z'kada, and she said if it's been a long while since you ate anything, it's nothing serious. Common if you eat a lot of heavy food after starving yourself for a while. It can make you faint."

  I relaxed a little.

  "You said you were affiliated with Saydea, right?" he suddenly asked.

  "Yes."

  Finally he looked back at me. "Did they... you know... mess with you in there?"

  "I know what you're insinuating, and I find it incredibly insulting. Anything that happened to me there did not cause the insanity you want to believe I have," I snapped.

  He raised a hand as if to stop my assumptions, but didn't deny it. "I'm sorry for being so skeptical, Hightower, but you've given me a lot of outlandish information that I'm just not ready to accept."

  I scowled.

  "Z'kada said Saydea works with fermented chemicals in their experiments. You could have cut yourself on something while you were in there--contracted some weird condition that way that causes delusions or hallucinations. Or you know, if you ingested something laced with chemicals. Same thing."

  "Prototoxine," I replied.

  He paused, searching my face.

  "I entered Saydea looking for a cure because I was scratched by a lab experiment. The vice president injected me with prototoxine. He said it would nullify the virus. It linked me up with another of his experiments, who happened to be the recreation of KahRatese."

  "Mhm," Tragedy responded. "I'm seeing a connection. Explains why that little redhead can read minds."

  "Sylvain reads minds because he's the God of Alteration. He's able to change things at will. Crane can control pain and pleasure because he's the God of Gratification. I could go on, En'siq."

  Tragedy shrugged. "You can call yourselves gods, or you can call yourselves Saydea Projects. Whatever the case is, you're starting to suffer from it."

  "I'm not crazy. I, myself, didn't believe in the gods until just a short time ago. And I have acquaintances who've never even been in Saydea who have powers similar to Sylvain's."

  "I don't know what to think, Strejc. All I do know is that you have been in deep shock since you came here and probably half out of your mind." He stood from his crouched position. "Take some time to yourself. Rest a little more. You can borrow a fresh pair of clothes from me--I put them on the counter. Get out and go lay down in the guest bedroom down the hall."

  It wasn't a suggestion. Tragedy walked out and shut the door behind him.

  I never did like his kind, the Ifearians. Always too brunt for my taste.

  I narrowed my eyes in reaction to the voice while reaching to unplug the tub. There were so many things I wanted to say to Sylvain, but for some reason only the simplest question stuck out the most.

  How have you been, Sylvain?

  As I stood slowly from the draining water to grab a towel from the rack, I listened closely to his voice.

  Concerned for my well-being, Crow? You never cease to surprise me. To answer you, I am well. Allan Dentrin successfully sedated Crane for now. He was causing a small scale of panic within Saydea, but is now confined in one of the lower Zones.

  I shed my wet clothing and dried myself off.

  Coming back to GreyCross anytime soon, Crow?

  Tragedy's spare shirt slipped over my head easily, and the rest of his clothes fit as well.

  I'm not going to answer that. I don't need to.

  I'm sorry for all the confusion and stress I may have put you through. Sylvain's voice was melancholy and sore.

  I parted my lips as if to reply, but already felt that his presence had left. Since when did Sylvain apologize for his actions? I felt unnerved, but also too burnt out to deal with any of it. I took Tragedy's order to consideration and left the bathroom, walking down the short hall and to the room at the end. It smelled a little stale as if it hadn't been used in a while, but I didn't much care. I dropped onto the bed and was quick to fall asleep.

  17

  Lucidity

  I knew I was dreaming. This had happened before in Roavo... with Velzae. For a brief second as I opened my eyes I felt like this was all real, but gradually came the understanding that I was still asleep in the guest room of the Daliq'ehete station. This--as I looked around, taking in my surroundings--was not physical. At least I didn't think so.

  I stood in Saydea of the Future. The room I was in looked like a doctor's examination station. There was a table in the corner, turned diagonally so it came out clear to the middle of the room, and a small walking space between the foot of the table and the counter on my left. Two computers were set up on the counter, but they were either off or in a sleep mode. Oddly, I felt soothed to hear the faint hum of the vents of the facility.

  Wondering what Zone I was in, I headed for the door, but I caught sight of a mirror on the wall beside an x-ray monitor. My eyes widened at my state. Behind me was a shadow. It was subtle, but I could see it well. It appeared hunched but carried some massive arches on either side of it... like wings.

  I backed up until I was able to touch the table behind me, still gazing into the mirror, then stole a fast breath and rushed to the door and out of the room.

  The hallway was just as quiet as the room had been. Some ways down from where I stood was a splay of broken glass. I was only able to tell from the soft flickering illumination of a light above that was about to burn out. The refulgence bounced off the shattered pieces eerily.

  Crouching, I picked up a larger piece of the glass and looked at it closely. The way it curved proved to me that it had been a jar, and the scent in the hallway was almost overpowering. Whatever it was had dried across the tile floor; it smelled like medicinal solution. A few droplets of blood had marked several of the shards, and they were strewn further down the hallway. Standing, I noted a small push cart to the right with several other jars of chemicals resting on it. It was turned at an angle so one of the legs extended out further into the hall than the others, as if someone had run into it and knocked one of the jars off.

  "I see you've made it to Purgatory."

  I snapped my gaze upward to look ahead of me. Sitting on the floor with his back against the wall was a boy with chin-length, mossy hair. He looked up at me with big, pale green eyes, his face striking with a defined jaw and pointed nose. He wore fewer clothes than me, but had a circlet. His clothing consisted of a gossamer shawl across his shoulders and some wrapped bronze pants. He was barefoot and bleeding from dozens of cuts over his soles.

  "IkioElle," the boy greeted.

  I frowned and stared at his feet. "You need someone to help you with that?"

  The boy narrowed his eyes, his mouth tight. "You don't even recognize me, do you?"

  I waited in momentary confusion.

  "Do I honestly have to introduce myself to you again, Ikio, or are you just so accustomed to me looking like a radioactive corpse?"

  I swallowed instinctively. "Crane..."

  The boy lifted himself up onto his bloody feet, his shawl dropping off one shoulder. "What are you doing here?" he asked before I could.

  I took a hesitant step backward. "I'm sleeping. Mind telling me where the hell we are?"

  "I told you, my dear elder brother." He raised his delicate arms to the hall walls. "Purgatory. Or perhaps even worse. Your hell. My prison. We're both in a deep sleep right now in the physical realm, aren't we? So it's just me and you in this big, endless place."

  "Why?" I wondered mostly to myself while looking up at the flickering lights.

  "Because you're a work of wonders, IkioElle." His tone oozed bitterness. "You have a habit of getting lost and confused in realms that are not made for you to trespass in. But now that you're here, perhaps I can enlighten you on something."

  I didn't like the way his tone had changed from aloof and uninterested to sharp and focused. He took one bloody step to
ward me. It sounded wet and painful, although he didn't flinch. A deep ache settled in my chest, spreading like a chunk of lead weighing me down. I couldn't look away from Crane's vivid eyes. My breath fell from my lungs with the weight, and I struggled to regain it. My chest heaved, and I felt my heart do... something strange. It fluttered, but not in a healthy sense. For just a second I let my eyes widen. Things grew dark around me, and I knew in another moment that my heart would still.

  Then the connection broke, and I straightened my shaking legs, gasping for air and clutching at my ribcage.

  "I'm not going to kill you," Crane said. I felt him trail a finger down my arm. I recoiled from his touch. "Not here. You're much too special to SolTansra, and I would be eternally damned by the Fathergod if I murdered in the spiritual realms. But if you want to avoid extreme pain, you will have to make some deals with me."

  I'd recovered mostly, now avoiding his stare but feeling it on my face. Crane's attitude seemed slightly different from how I'd witnessed him both through Sylvain's eyes and my own. He didn't seem so caustic and hellbent on evil. Instead he was bossy and direct... like a mistreated adolescent.

  "KahRatese is trying to work against me, and I think he has connections with you." Crane prodded my shoulder as he spoke until I batted his hand away. "I will give the silly god a good chastising when I awaken, but for now I have you instead." He could have been smiling, but I didn't dare find out. "You're weaker than you used to be, Ikio. I once knew you as an ill-tempered ruler who never let anyone stand in your way. Granted you have held on to most of that adamant behavior, but you're not nearly as intimidating as you used to be. Look at my face, Crow. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."

  I bit my lip, refusing.

  Crane seized my upper arm, digging his nails in until I hissed in pain. "Look at me now."

  I gave in, glancing at his unforgettable face. His eyes sent electric jolts through me, but nothing hurt or fluttered this time.

  "Our white-haired stalker kept a close eye on you since you came back from Uncertainty. He's also kept a close eye on me, and I'm tired of his unwanted supervision. I will make my own decisions in the world. I don't need big brother breathing down my neck.