“You must ready the new planet for our arrival in the years to come. Use whatever advanced technology you can for your endeavours. One day we may need a new planet to conquer when our numbers become too great. Ready it for us. That is all I ask.”
Capíok Dacomé stood and brushed down his tunic. He descended from the dais and walked towards us.
I could hardly breathe, still stunned by his sentence. My own people wouldn’t stand for this, would they?
The king placed a hand on Avíra’s and Sanátu’s shoulders. “I am sorry,” he said. Then he did something I didn’t expect. He pulled at their wedding crystals and handed them to me. “Now you have all four, my daughter.”
A long time in the future, this action would make sense, but at this time, it made none.
“Guards, escort them to the prison block. Place them in separate rooms.”
“No, wait,” I cried out. “Aunt, what was rule number two?”
“Ah, yes, number two.” She glanced at my father and Nerído Xipilé briefly. “The union with your husband cannot come to fruition—which is why it was forbidden in the first place—it should never have happened.”
I shook my head in confusion. “What do you mean, come to fruition? What are you trying to say?”
“Halíka Dacomé, we are the strongest race among the alliances and our bloodline remains pure for one reason alone. You can handle and absorb their abilities, yes, and you can combine them to create one unique greater power. But there is a defect in our genetic makeup that prevents us from bearing children with the other three races. You and Nerído Xipilé cannot have children together.”
Any movement in the room appeared to stop suddenly. Every person froze, every breath halted. Nerído turned his head towards me. His face was shadowed in horror.
My voice croaked from my throat. “No, that’s not possible. You’re lying!”
“She tells the truth,” my father finally said. “Daughter, we tried to prevent this marriage for that very reason. Why do you think I forbade it from the start? I didn’t want you to bear the pain. Sooner or later, Nerído Xipilé would leave you to father children with another. I wanted to spare you that heartache.”
“Did you know?” I whispered to him.
He shook his head and looked to the floor. “No.”
“Would you have left me, like he said?”
But I received no answer. His eyes dulled from their normal sparkling blue and he looked away. The fire had gone out.
That was the moment I died. My life—my future—slipped through my fingers and shattered to the floor into a thousand pieces. A life without Nerído, marriage crystal or not, was an empty vessel of nothingness.
“How touching this all is,” Arfron Uhnok cackled. “You should have stayed with me after all, Halíka Dacomé. Guards, lead them out!”
Jerik became frantic. His worry for me overruled my father’s wishes and he rushed forward in my direction, only to be held back by one of the guards.
“Hally, I’ll come and visit you, as soon as I can. I’ll bring Cary too,” Jerik cried. “I love you.”
I looked back, tears falling down my cheeks. “I love you too, Jerik. I’m sorry.”
The guards took us down to the prison block. Nerído, Avíra, and Sanátu were silent, no one braved mind-speaking with me.
My hands reached up and I cradled my head as I realised that if Jerik hadn’t sent that message, if I hadn’t incited war on the Primords, if I had accepted Arfron Uhnok’s treaty, none of this would have happened.
On the other hand, if that had been the case, I would already be dead. Dead from the Primord army that had battered our barricades.
But I was dead, anyway. Inside and out. This day, Halíka Dacomé truly died. All that remained was a shell.
Aftermath
With trepidation, I, Scribe Welíjka, walk down the dark stone steps and reach the bottom, my books clasped to my side in one hand, the candle and a clean tunic in the other.
In the gloomy room, the candle makes out the small table that has been acting as my desk. I place my candle and books on it and turn to the prison grills.
Halíka Dacomé lies on her side facing me in the middle of the cold floor. Her hands are neatly folded under her head. She neither moves nor speaks. But her green eyes watch every move I make.
“So, what do you want to hear about today, Scribe?” she whispers. Her voice is deep and full of remorse.
“Is there anything more you’d like me to write about today?” I ask. She remains silent.
I set my papers in order. A scribe’s duty is to record all royal history. Halíka Dacomé’s recent actions will be stored in the Archives before her departure.
So far we have spent five days together. She tells her story with vivid recollection, a gifted storyteller, retelling her part with precision and passion. In three days she departs her home. Until then, she waits.
I feel truly sorry for her.
“Have you spoken with the others, up here?” I point to my head.
“No,” Halíka Dacomé says.
“Do they speak to you?”
She pauses, then whispers. “Sometimes.”
“Does Nerído Xipilé talk with you?”
She nods.
“But you don’t answer him.”
She shrugs. “He talks all the time. He begs, he pleads, but I have nothing left to say.”
“That’s sad, don’t you think?”
She says nothing. Just watches me.
“Here.” I pass the clean tunic through the grill and place it on the floor. “I thought you might need something cleaner.”
“Thank you, Scribe.”
“You know, the technicians think they’ve found a place. It will take a few months for the ship to reach it but all planet life signs are positive so far. The king asked for two volunteers from your captains to fly the ship. Captains Perayan and Orelían put themselves forward and the king accepted. Captain Orthían gave a strong argument but the king thought him too old to make the journey. That’s good news, isn’t it? You’ll have familiar faces on the other side.”
Halíka Dacomé turns and lies on her back. In her hands are the four marriage crystals, each two thumbnails in length. She places them on her abdomen, wrapping her fingers around the threads, and holds them up to the light. Refraction beams running through each one send spectrums of colour onto the walls and ceiling of her prison cell. She doesn’t appear to notice. Her gaze is only fixed on the crystals.
“They shouldn’t have volunteered,” she says at last. “They’ve signed their own death sentences. And I have to spend a few more months wishing I was dead also.”
Her pessimistic frame of mind troubles me. Her will is gone. She has broken down all links to the events of these past few days and admitted defeat.
I shake my head. “No, Halíka Dacomé. This is a new chance. A new challenge. You can finally rid yourself of your ties to this planet and start again. No laws, no rules. When you land on the new world, you’ll have your friends with you.”
She continues to stare at the crystals.
“They are all dead because of me. I have no friends anymore. When we get to the new planet, I will leave them and go on my own.” Her chilling tone is dreadful.
“Surely you don’t mean that,” I say. “You’ll still have Nerído Xipilé by your side with no one to question you.”
Her arm drops down to her side. I hear the soft thud of quartz against stone. She closes her eyes and one small tear falls from the side.
~
The ship is ready to leave. Captain Orelían and Captain Perayan started the engines earlier in preparation and have initiated the launch sequence for the long journey.
I wait on the landing platform with Capíok Dacomé, Arfron Uhnok, and others of import.
A small crowd has gathered nearby. Captains and soldiers that once stood with Halíka Dacomé. Friends, Cary, Jerik Dacomé, her dog Zaquinto. They all wait for the final glimpse of her. Th
is will be their final goodbye.
The guards lead out the four. The Batavéan is brought out first. His hands are tied behind his back. The Malokéan is next. When Nerído Xipilé moves into the open, the crowd becomes hostile but his shoulders are hunched, as though he expects it.
In the end, the tall, thin frame of Halíka Dacomé comes into view. The crowd shouts friendly messages to her. They want to see her face before she embarks. Her brother cries and clutches Cary. Six captains and her army of soldiers salute. The people call her name, but she neither looks at them nor answers their calls. They mourn her loss already. Her eyes are on the ground as if she follows an invisible path towards her doom.
In all my years as scribe to the Court, I have never felt as bitter towards our king as I do now. Halíka Dacomé was our savior. She rid us of our enemies.
This is how she is repaid for her energy, her skill, and her devotion to our cause.
The door to the ship is finally sealed and the rumble of booster engines shakes under our feet. Gradually, the oval ship ascends into the sky and sails slowly over our heads before disappearing higher into the atmosphere.
As I turn to leave this sorrowful event, Jerik Dacomé tugs at my arm. He says something that surprises me.
“Scribe, you can write this in your memoirs. Nerído Xipilé told me a secret about the four crystals. When I am king, I will activate them, and I will find a way to bring her home. Even if I can’t find her, I’ll never stop looking.”
I don’t understand his full meaning, but I do hope one day, he will act on that word.
LW
The Battle for Arcanon Major (The Lost Dacomé Files) Page 13