by Julie Ishaya
Kieriell held a hard gaze of his own for a moment before trying to explain exactly what he meant. "What is to keep me from retreating into the void and staying there?"
"That is up to you," Adam said. "Friends and family, people whom you love and who love you in return. You can share the true meaning of the grid with them through telepathy and empathy."
"How do you think I finished off the kai?" the youth argued. "I shared the grid with him. . . and the void." He swallowed, leaning closer to add weight to his words. "I showed it to him, and I meant to break his mind with it. I did break his mind."
"It was already broken." Adam relaxed back against the pillows and huffed another sigh, obviously expended just from being awake and talking, but he still said what he felt. "How much of the grid you share is left to your discretion, Kieriell." He stiffened for a moment, still easing into the new position. "You have infinite discoveries to make, and an endless lifetime in which to make them. Do not condemn yourself now, when you are still so young."
"All right," he said, "but it's just so hard."
"I know," Adam said in a comforting manner, "and it will probably get harder. There is much to be rebuilt for us all—you and me, your grandsire, and the rest of Nex."
Kieriell nodded. "And the Shiv," he added. He noted how Adam was reluctant to respond to this. Although the deeper cut in his side had been tended and delicately seemed back together by psionic surgery, Adam had more to recover from than just the physical complications. "I feel responsible," Kieriell said, hoping to divert his father's mind away from general Shiv resentment. He still fingered his medallion and skirted the corner of the bed to move closer to Adam. "If I had just teleported to Nex instead of Valtaer, then none of this would have happened."
Adam rolled his head back and forth across the pillow. "It would have happened," he countered. "The Shiv wanted this war. Even if you had come to Nex, they would have launched the attack and tried to recover your mother."
"Not the Shiv." Kieriell felt the edge on his voice. "The kai wanted war."
"As you say." Adam's eyelids were starting to sag closed, and Kieriell cursed at himself inwardly for prompting an argument his father didn't need right now. "So you will be returning to Nex this evening with your grandsire?"
Kieriell shrugged. "Sure." With this in mind he let his father rest and with a brief bow to Adam, he started to dismiss himself.
Passing through the outer room where the large bathing pool cast golden ripples upon the ceiling, Kieriell met his mother, who was followed by a servant carrying a flat tub of clean bandages.
"It's time to change his packaging," she commented, intending to provoke at least a chuckle from her son.
Kieriell only dropped a kiss on her cheek.
"What's wrong?" Jenesaazi asked.
He shook his head. "It's complicated," he said. "But I'll be all right."
In his chamber, he changed into a fresh Dyssian uniform. He pulled a black long coat of cool, loose material from the wardrobe and tossed it across the duffel which he had packed earlier. He found himself once more staring out the window, experiencing the daylight again as though it were his mate. He wanted more than anything to share this feeling, but now was not the time. Adam had to heal. Asmodéus had business to attend. His mother wanted to be with his father. Jarren and Maven Ahrden were occupied getting the life of the school back to normal. Out of all of his reflections, there emerged one with a face that would haunt him forever.
He thought of Siri. He thought of her father whose last breath had carried his daughter's name. Siri, who wanted to experience moonbeams and sea breezes and something more than that dead rock in which she did not live but merely existed. There. He would start with Siri.
Only Jenesaazi knew about her for now, and Kieriell knew his mother would never breach his confidence.
He smiled to himself, then he clutched his school medallion, remembering how she had taken it from him, and how by some maneuver of her father it had come back to him. He thought there might be some hidden meaning in that. Somehow, he would return for her. When the time was right, when he felt confident that he could carry her safely away.
He had to tear himself away from the manse. Visiting his parents' private chamber again, he found them nestled together, Adam asleep leaning back into the embankment of pillows, Jenesaazi curled close to him, their fingers threaded together. A fresh bandage had been applied to Adam's side, and he looked the most at peace with his head leaning against Jenesaazi's, their faces close, the air warm between them.
Kieriell didn't wake them. He crept closer to the bed, sending each a silent good-bye while he instilled the perfect sight of them to memory. Adam had stated earlier that he would not be returning to Nex for a while, and Asmodéus, present during this declaration, had not argued.
With the long coat on and the duffle thrown across his shoulder, Kieriell smiled to himself, then he left the room. In the first floor's central corridor, he asked a servant to later inform the lord and lady of the house that their son had departed and would send a missive.
Then as the servant nodded and hastened away, Kieriell closed his eyes, focused his energies, and disappeared into the comfort of the grid.
Asmodéus relaxed back in the great chair behind the desk in his cabin aboard Imperial Command. With the lights in the cabin off, the dark walls cool, he enjoyed the illumination that poured through the window dominating the wall across from the desk. Sunlight dashed off the sea and reached through the concave glass into the office then extended throughout the chain of small chambers in the galleon's mid deck.
His hands folded up before him, his elbows firmly planted on the padded armrests, the emperor considered the current reports from Nex. The Shiv command ship had retreated without any further resistance, taking the last few fighters with it. Contact had been established with the Shiv only to report the death of their kai and temper any notions of launching a second attack that would, ultimately, be suicide.
A shuttle had delivered the kai's body to Nex, and General Kallian had seen to its disposal along with the bodies of the other dead Shiv.
The war was far from over. The predicted lull in Shiv-Nexian activity would only be an interim. Asmodéus planned to dispatch new probes to more closely observe Shiv space. With the last kai dead, no doubt Rai Jinn would soon claim the title. Asmodéus suspected that this was why the Shiv command vessel had withdrawn with such little resistance or why it had not utilized its psionic field weapon a second time. Rai Jinn was preserving himself to take the former kai's place.
He continued his vigil with the sea and the distant view of cityscape which, from this perspective, appeared to float white on blue, then blue above. The Valtaerian sky was a surreal comfort to the emperor of a kingdom that floated in the darkness of space, the closest star a red dwarf, and he relished the sparkling sea. Little wonder the denizens of Nex had sworn to guard this world. But then he had to blink two, no three, times to realize that the sparkles seemed to be rising from the water and penetrating the cabin. No, they were already inside the cabin. They moved in tiny circles, multiplying out from each other, until they became concentrated, and he knew what was happening. (How are you feeling?) he asked when his grandson's form solidified out of the light.
Kieriell stepped forward, his principle station observed in his uniform and long coat. His crown mane hung in a twist over one shoulder. With his eyes so clear and blue, there seemed to be no more Nexian left in him. Bearing a duffel over one shoulder, he turned casually, glancing about the cabin and then out the window. "I feel like I'll never be the same again."
Asmodéus smiled wistfully and thought briefly on what he had seen two nights ago. (Of course you do,) he replied. The stories of the spectacle at the Ariahm School were already circulating through Nex, stirring up the adversaries. Although he wanted to ask questions about the event, to understand Kieriell's perspective, Asmodéus didn't know how he should enquire about these things. He asked instead, (Are you ready to
go back to Nex?)
Allowing the duffel to sag off his shoulder and finally to the floor, Kieriell moved from the window to prop against the corner of the desk. "No." He looked down, weariness evident in the knit of his brows.
Nodding, Asmodéus considered the issue of Asmodéus II's Transcendant Account. (You have been fully informed of your legal situation?)
"Yes." Kieriell looked up.
(You may choose an advocate to represent you on Nex.)
Kieriell shook his head. "I didn't have to think long on this, Grandsire. I will be my own advocate. A chosen could not easily see matters the way I do now."
(As you will.)
Clearing his throat softly, Kieriell ran his gaze over the desk and up the posture of the emperor until their eyes met. "I have something to do."
(What's that?) Asmodéus found the youth's mind to be as a cool stone wall—impenetrable, no surface thoughts available. Feeling unwelcome to continue searching for clues to the state of Kieriell's being, Asmodéus respectfully backed off. After an intense silence, he started to ask again what his grandson was planning, but scarcely had he opened his mouth than Kieriell spoke.
(Grandsire,) the sending voice was altered, now forever the voice of the evolved being that dwelt within the construct of Kieriell. He eased around the desk and dropped to one knee, taking the emperor's hand while he bowed his head.
Asmodéus laid his free hand across his grandchild's head, strands of black slipping through his fingers. He felt that he should be the one kneeling.
(Grandsire, I need your help, and with no questions. I must have a safe haven constructed, a place free of filth in the air, a place for. . . healing.)
Asmodéus started to ask why, but he nodded to Kieriell's request for no questions. What the youth wanted was odd, but not unreasonable.
(I will explain when the time is right, but this is important to me.)
Asmodéus could be patient. Withdrawing his hand, he lifted Kieriell's chin and succumbed to the pleading face. (A ship, perhaps? A small galleon could be adapted for what you ask and isolated along the coast of Nall. If,) he added, gesturing out the window toward the city, (this is where you wish to stay for a while.)
Kieriell nodded. (And I will need test subjects, small living creatures.) He explained this hastily. (I might have been able to teleport once with Father, but I just want to be sure I can do it again with another living thing.)
(Understood.) He stood and motioned Kieriell toward the window, and together they looked out at the city. Asmodéus laid a hand on Kieriell's shoulder as he moved on to other matters. (Nex is due to undergo the reforms your father and I were developing. There will be much controversy. I would like for you to be there. When the time comes, that is. There is no rush.) He didn't want the boy to feel pressured.
"Me? What can I do?"
(You can guide me.) The emperor nodded briskly to Kieriell's incredulous look. (Nexians are but one race in a universe of thousands. Who are we to draw a line where strength and will power are concerned? What we really need is grace, and you could represent that for us.)
"Grace," Kieriell whispered. He looked down at the close ripple of the waves on the other side of the glass and leaned against the edge of the window. "You know, the chamberlain had grace," he stated. "Before he abducted me, he severed his ties as my teacher and told me to think of him as my adversary. He was trying to warn me. My regret is that he dared not reach out for help when the kai was controlling him. A lot of this could have been avoided had there been no Nexian code." A coolness crept into his voice.
Asmodéus nodded as a heavy lump formed in his chest. Losing a good friend and advisor were pain enough without the controversy over who was to blame. He tried to point out the other side of it, though it didn't make him feel any better, either. (So he assumed the role of adversary in order to prepare you for the greatest trial of your life. And you overcame it, didn't you?)
Kieriell shuffled a little restlessly from hip to hip and hunkered against the window frame.
(What I mean is. . . Yes,) Asmodéus admitted, (the chamberlain did have grace.) A pleased half-smile gradually formed on Kieriell's lips, and Asmodéus sensed that he'd given the desired answer. The boy didn't want technicalities, or to examine the case down to every last shred of evidence. (Perhaps,) he continued, (we've had enough of fighting ourselves to stay on top, of upholding the code.)
"Really?" Kieriell straightened and eased away from the window slightly.
(Yes. Really.)
"Does that mean you'll be speaking out loud more?"
The emperor nearly coughed, but took a breath instead. If his grandson, a boy with the multiverse virtually at his disposal and light as his core substance, could discard one shift for another, then he was willing to do whatever that boy suggested. "Yes."
A little flicker of what Asmodéus interpreted as delight ignited in Kieriell's eyes, the child that he was shining through despite all that he had been through and all that he had become since. "So what about these reforms for Nex?" he asked.