Children of the Prime Box Set

by T. C. Edge

  "I do," I say. "I see that."

  "Good," she smiles, stepping backwards. "Now rest. I will see to your requests soon."

  She turns, heading through the door, followed by her two guards. Leaving me alone to ponder the good and the bad, the relief at finding that Elian is alive, and the gnawing grief at not knowing Jude's fate.

  I slip back towards the bed, mulling over all that's happened. Not so long ago, I was a captive in Olympus, Jude and my sister, Lilly, held as collateral to force my compliance. I got drawn in quickly enough, realising that Olympus and its people were far more complicated than I once believed.

  It is a place of wonder and horror combined, my grandmother once told me. I have seen that now. The wonders. The horrors. These last few weeks have made clear my true purpose. No, it wasn't to march here to war, to see to the killing of innocent Havenites. It was to free my own people, to emancipate those across the Fringe from the total control of Olympus. To engender a more mutually beneficial system, perhaps. Try to bridge the gap between them, blur the lines separating the powerful and the powerless.

  A hard task, yes, but one that just feels so right. And one, too, that has already been completed here in this city. A city, as President Orlando told me, that is open, kind, and willing to harbour those in need of their help. A progressive place that Olympus could learn from. A system, perhaps, that they should also adopt.

  Maybe my path has brought me here for a reason. Maybe my fate is as I choose it to be.

  And that the Prime's purpose for me isn't the road I'm truly meant to take.

  Maybe, I think, returning once more to the questioning girl who lived upon the Fringe. Maybe the Prime was wrong...

  I am not a weapon.

  No, I am a tool.

  One used for the breaking of chains.

  111

  I don't have to wait long before the door opens once again, preceded by the tapping of footsteps outside of the room.

  My immediate thought is that someone is coming to bring me the food and water the President promised. When the door opens, however, I find that it is the President herself who enters once again, followed in this time, not by her two guards, but a beautiful young woman with startling green eyes and vibrant red hair.

  "Did you get some rest, Amber?" the President asks me.

  I shake my head, my attention on the redhead with the crimson armour and curved swords sheathed at her hips. She holds the framing of a seasoned soldier and warrior, carrying that natural authority and imposing presence that those who have seen much conflict bear.

  "I tried to sleep," I croak. "But...it's hard."

  "Of course," smiles the President. "Well, as requested, here is Kira Blackstone, who you desired to meet personally. It turns out she wished for the very same thing."

  Kira steps forward, regarding me closely. There's an element of suspicion about her, a natural quality that many such people likely possess. To be too trusting too quickly isn't, I imagine, an attribute that all good survivors share.

  "Amber," she says, her voice quick and direct. She steps forward, her eyes darting to the lump on my temple. "How's the head?" A slight smile manages to burgeon on her lips, something to help break the tension in the room.

  I reach to the tender spot and purse my lips. "It's fine," I say. "Better a lump than a knife in the brain."

  "Yes, that's what I thought when I threw the thing," Kira says. "The President tells me you know what happened with Elian?"

  I nod, my expression morphing into one of thanks and gratitude. "I heard," I say, my voice going softer. "Thank you for keeping him alive. For sparing him."

  "There was no reason for him to die," she says. "He fought well against Ares. And the battle was done. It didn't seem right to kill him at that point."

  "I'm not sure my people would have done the same," I whisper.

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I hear you had an interaction with Brie towards the end of the fight?"

  "I...I did. In our camp. She was there saving..."

  "I know why she was there," Kira cuts in. She glances at the President, who lowers her eyes. "Tell me, was she alone?"

  I nod. "Except for the prisoner. And, there were two of those soldiers in black there too. She killed them, I think."

  "Stalkers," Kira says, nodding. "They were there for a specific reason. Brie found herself in disagreement with them, it would seem." She lets out a breath, and shakes her head. "So, there was no Neoroman there?"

  I shake my head. "No. Just her. I only saw her for a minute. I had other things I needed to do."

  "Of course."

  "You're missing someone else?" I query.

  "A Neoroman Captain, yes," she says. "He is of some prominence among the Neoroman soldiers. We haven't, as yet, accounted for him. I hoped you might have seen something."

  "I'm...sorry. I can't help you."

  "Not in this instance," she says. She turns her eyes towards the President. "Brie is...dear to us here," she goes on. "We do not want to see her remaining with your people for long. Perhaps this is where you can help."

  "I...I don't know what I'd do," I say. "The President told me that an exchange might not be possible."

  "No, not with that brutish Herald Kovas in charge. Though, I get the impression that someone else is truly pulling the strings."

  "I...don't understand."

  "He's called the Overseer, as I understand it," Kira says. "I witnessed him subtly influencing Kovas's ruling and mood only this morning. I was there attempting to discover more of Brie's whereabouts. It seems to me that the Overseer isn't willing to hand Brie back to us, or consider an exchange at all."

  "Why?" I wonder, half speaking to myself. "He's...a good man."

  "Perhaps that is merely the brainwashed part of you speaking," Kira says flatly.

  I shake my head. "No...no, I thought that at first. The Overseer has his ways, yes, but he's a kind man really. His role is to help select the Chosen for the Prime. He is the Prime's main agent here."

  I see Kira's lips curl up, her teeth flashing behind them. Her expression works into one of utter distaste. "You know of Brie and my experience with Herald Nestor some months ago?" she asks me.

  I nod.

  "Then perhaps you know what Brie was subjected to. Perhaps you know that Herald Nestor wanted nothing more than to bring her to Olympus. To make her one of you." She regards my expression. "That makes sense to you, doesn't it?"

  I find myself unable to deny it. "Yes," I whisper softly. "If Brie is as powerful as I've heard and seen, then yes. I had a similar experience myself. I haven't been part of all of this for long."

  "As I have heard," says Kira, looking again to the President. "You have been drawn into a web of lies and manipulations, from what I can see. You appear to be a nice person, with a kind heart. Ares has said the same. You are not a born killer. This is something that has been forced upon you."

  "I...I guess. Partly," I admit. "But Olympus isn't as bad as you think. Don't look at Herald Kovas and think that he represents us all. The other Heralds are good people too. Avon and Gailen. Lady Dianna is as well. Whatever you say about the Overseer, he's a kind man. Elian has a good heart. All of our leadership, except Kovas, are decent people really."

  "And Herald Perses?" asks Kira.

  I frown, and notice the President stiffen a touch.

  "You know about him?" I ask, peering at her and the old lady to her side. I get no immediate answer, so begin to nod. "He...was a fine man, yes. Perhaps...the best of us."

  I coil a moment as the memory of Perses comes once more. Of his dying words, of the experience with Elian, leaving us there in the woods after the ambush, confronting Perses over the death of his father. A father, Elian believes, Perses killed in cold blood.

  I dip my eyes. Burying Perses, or trying to, all alone out there in those smokey, blackened woods, was one of the hardest experiences of my life...

  "And yet," comes Kira's voice, breaking me from my thoughts, "Olympus itself is s
trangled by inequality, and ruled by a dictatorship. Despite these so-called good, kind leaders of yours, the lands you come from are filled with cruelty, forced servitude, and discrimination. Life here in New Haven was the very same not long ago. Now, we have integrated all parts of the city, and done away with what came before. You must see that your people are in the wrong here, Amber. That if there was such a thing as the good and the bad, the heroes and the villains, your side would be the latter on both counts."

  Her steely glare forces me to submit. They are words I can deny. Crudely put, perhaps, and rather simplified, but true all the same. We have marched here to cause widespread death and destruction to a peaceful, innocent people.

  How can we not be the bad guys? How can we not be the villains?

  "I do see that," I say slowly, my voice losing some of its volume. "But...they had their reasons for marching here. Some of it was about conquest, yes, but we also spoke about preempting a threat from you. After what you saw with Nestor, and his specific method of awakening, we were concerned that you might come and try to...I don't know, invade our lands, and wipe us out."

  I say the words weakly, hardly believing them myself anymore. It's a pathetic excuse and explanation. I know that now. I see it so very clearly now.

  "That was never on our agenda," the President says firmly, joining the conversation. "We have been too weak to consider such a thing, Amber. I think it's quite safe to say that the designs of your leadership have simply been to take advantage of us while in a weakened state. The Cure attempted the very same thing. Now your people have marched here to conquer us. You can see that we are not so easily overcome, child."

  I go quiet, knowing this isn't an argument I can win, or a debate that I even want to enter into. Truthfully, I've come to that very realisation myself over the last few weeks. I can't deny any longer that the true motives of the Prime has been to defeat Haven, and control these lands for themselves. This is less about protecting our own people, than overcoming, controlling, and even destroying, another.

  "I...I'm glad I'm able to speak with you," I find myself saying, the words creeping out a little unsteadily, trying to inject something more positive into the conversation. "I wanted you to know that Nestor and his methods are not representative of us, just the same as Kovas doesn't represent the sort of people we are. Nestor was well known to have questionable and barbaric methods of awakening. That sort of thing isn't common in Olympus, or anywhere across the Fringe."

  "You mean taking slaves for torture and sacrifice?" asks Kira bluntly. "You mean snatching innocent people from their lives, merely to turn them into soldiers, or kill them in the attempt? You mean massacring entire villages, men, women, and children alike, in the hunt for the rare few people capable of withstanding Nestor's particular methods, as you call them? Is that the sort of thing you're referring to?"

  She stares at me with those intense emerald eyes, as if needing someone to blame. I sense in her a woman who has experienced a great deal of hurt in her life. Who is still somewhat scarred by what she saw up there when she first encountered Herald Nestor and the Children of the Prime.

  I can't hold her gaze for long, and find my eyes falling as I speak.

  "I never knew him," I say sombrely. "I can't speak of what you saw, Kira. All I can tell you is that we aren't all like that. There is good and bad in Olympus, of course. But I've found that there's more good than I first thought. I once thought as you do now, that the entire place was a nest of snakes, full of lies and deceit. But it's not as simple as all that. There are many good people there, trying to affect change..."

  "And you, Amber?" asks the President. "Why did you come here?"

  I look up to her, taking a moment to consider my words.

  Why did I come here? Because I had no choice, I think. Because, at the time, I wanted to...

  "To...protect my people," I say. "To...do my duty." I dip my eyes again. "At least, as I saw it."

  I glance at Kira and find her, oddly, nodding her agreement. "I can understand that," she says, her voice smaller suddenly. "It isn't always easy to question a world you grow up in, the only one you've ever known. We follow those in power, and get swept up into their lies. You, at least, sound like one of the brave few who are willing and capable of seeing the truth, or some of it at least."

  "My upbringing is...unique," I tell her. "I've seen both sides of the fence. I wanted to bridge the gap if I could." I look around the cell knowing that, whatever I'm told, I am a prisoner here right now. That even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be allowed to just return to the Olympian camp. No, I'm of better use to them here, just as Elian is.

  "What is it you want, Amber?" the President asks me, regarding my expression closely, as though able to read my thoughts, my emotions. "You speak of improving the lives of your countrymen and women. Of redressing the balance of wealth, power, and privilege in Olympus and across the Fringe. Is that something you really believe you can achieve?"

  I go silent for a long, drawn out moment. It is an answer in itself, perhaps. There is little true conviction in me to suggest I can change things as I say. In the end, the power I thought I possessed isn't much more than an illusion. I may be a Herald of War in title, but the true nature of my duty and purpose, the reason for my swift elevation, has been drawn into stark contrast now. If I were to return to Olympus, might my title just be stripped from me? Might I merely be cast aside as my grandmother was, no longer of any real use and value?

  "With help," I say eventually. "With help, it might be possible."

  "And this Prime," grunts Kira, her green eyes all but glowing from within those dark, intense sockets. "Tell us of him."

  "Them," I say, correcting her. "The Prime is a man and a women. They...they come as a pair." I feel a smile beginning to appear on my face. Some of that lingering joy that accompanies thoughts of them builds once more inside me. "They're...enchanting. Unlike anyone I've ever met."

  "They have an effect on you," muses the President, watching me closely, seeing my expression changing as I speak of them. "Your expression. It reminds me of someone...in love."

  She looks over to Kira.

  "I look like that when I think of Dom?" the redhead asks, apparently disgusted by the idea.

  The President smiles. "Sometimes," she says. "We are all guilty of it. Well, not us Savants, perhaps, but the rest of us are susceptible."

  "I...I'm not in love," I say. "At least, not with them..."

  Once more, two faces appear in my head, competing for attention. Though, this time, it isn't the perfect glow of the Prime that appears.

  It is Jude.

  It is Elian.

  "I didn't say you were in love with them," the President says, almost managing a chuckle. "I said your expression reminded me of someone feeling a profound swelling of that particular emotion. That blissful look. They make you feel happy, don't they?"

  I think of them again. The smile comes, though smaller. The effect is beginning to wane. "Yes," I whisper.

  "Empaths?" suggests Kira, looking over at the President.

  "Possibly. Certainly something we haven't truly seen before."

  "Sorry. Empaths?" I ask.

  "They are like telepaths," the President informs me. "Though, while telepaths are able to read and influence minds, empaths can read and influence emotions. That is my gut instinct. That this man and woman who call themselves the Prime, are simply manipulating people via their substantial empathic powers and gifts. If they were to, say, make someone feel extremely happy when they think of them, then that would engender a desire to do anything they say, wouldn't it? To follow their orders, whatever they might be, and feel good about doing it, regardless of whether it was morally right or wrong."

  "Sounds about right," Kira says, looking at me. "It's like you say, Madam President, she looked like she was in love. And when you're in love, you do damn stupid things because of it. You'd do just about anything to keep that feeling."

  "Yes, unfortunately that is
the case," the President agrees. "And it comes in many forms. Brie," she says, sighing as she shakes her head, "is now a prisoner for that very reason, for some compassion she feels towards Artemis. Foolish things are done in the name of love and devotion. It would seem to me that the Prime is a master at manipulating emotions. However, sever that link and, perhaps, the city will be freed. And you, Amber, might just be able to affect the change you desire."

  "Kill...the Prime?" I whisper, hardly able to even voice the words. A dark, dreadful feeling rises up inside me at the thought. I feel almost sick, my stomach churning, my heart pounding. I shake my head and draw back. "No, they cannot be killed. They can't..."

  "Anyone can be killed," growls Kira, feeling at the handle of one of her curved swords. "Empress Vesper in Neorome was exactly the same. She had the entire city under a cloud of her own making. Now, she's gone, and the darkness has departed with her. There is no reason why the same cannot be done in your city, Amber."

  "I...it's not the same," I stammer, suddenly so nervous, so afraid. "Vesper was just a woman. The Prime...they are..."

  "They are a man and a woman too," Kira cuts in. "Once more, it is the brainwashed part of you speaking. I can see your nerves, sense your fears. Don't worry, we have people who can help with that, don't we Madam President?"

  "We do," the President confirms smoothly. "The Prime is no more divine than any of us here, child. They are enhanced, like the rest of us. Their great accomplishment, it seems, has been to convince an entire people of their lies, of their divine nature. But you are too smart to think like that, Amber. We'll have you back as you were soon, don't worry."

  "I..." The words don't come. I know the Children of the Prime, the citizens of Olympus, are nothing more than the offspring of the genetically enhanced, the products of generation after generation of interbreeding between the various types, creating mutations and strange new gifts along the way. But...the Prime. They seemed so much more. There was something truly godlike about them.