Mourning Ember

by Odin Oxthorn

  The others began to approach, surrounding her with their radiance. The ones she’d fought next to, bled next to. They were so good. All she wanted was to protect them from the games the Council played. From herself.

  She did not deserve this.

  ##4.3##

  Garrett was reinvigorated as he emerged from his dream-fueled state. He spent the newly procured energy leaping out of his skin when he met the devious eyes of Syf looming over him.

  “I apologize for the startle, but I am relieved to see you doing better.” They grinned and laid a tray on the table. “I brought breakfast!”

  He eyed the figure suspiciously and gingerly picked up a utensil, torn between his fear of mortality and fear of offending. “I, uh, thank you.”

  Their eerie smile intensified as they watched the human curiously, knitting their hands under their chin.

  Hairs rose on the back of his neck as he poked at the bowl of vegetables squiggling in an oily broth. “Can I… help you with anything?”

  “No. Do carry on,” they said through a flash of fangs.

  To his relief, Fariem entered the room, snapping a finger at the leering creature. “Syf. Out.”

  “Yes, Serr’Maht.” They winked at Garrett before obediently scurrying away.

  “Pay them no mind,” Fariem said as they examined the console. “They’re just protective and have a habit of digging for insecurities in new people.”

  “It’s no trouble.” He tried to convince himself.

  They scoffed. “There’s no need to conceal your feelings for the sake of protecting mine.”

  Under their advice, he let his thoughts slip off his tongue. “You sound like Nara.”

  “I sound like everyone on this planet,” they snapped. “Lying about your concerns wastes time and makes you look untrustworthy.”

  He stirred the contents of the bowl listlessly. “Is she okay? She’s been acting… strange. Even more than when I met her.”

  Fariem turned their back to him, jotting down notes on a tablet. “That is a complicated question that I do not have consent to communicate.”

  “I see.” He should have guessed his inquiry would hit a wall.

  They pointed an authoritative palm in his direction. “Give me your hand.”

  Garrett obeyed, watching apprehensively as they wrapped their digits around his wrist. He bit his tongue as they pressed their finger on the back of his hand, a glimmer of metal catching his eye. With a short hum of approval, Fariem hastily left his personal space. He looked down at his hand, watching a tiny tear in his skin seal itself, not even the slightest drop of blood left to scab over.

  Fariem traced a finger across a screen, following a pattern of charts and numbers. “You’re fine to leave after you’ve finished your meal.”

  “Sure, thank you.”

  “You’re a strange one, you know that?” They raised a thumb to their chin, scrunching their eyebrows tightly.

  “I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged. By my own family, even.

  “Mmm.” Fariem turned and departed, leaving Garrett with his apprehension stew.

  The silence was a chilling seasoning to the neglected broth on his lap. He raised the bowl to his mouth, slurping the cold concoction. A well-balanced bitterness caressed his tongue, the earthy flavor reminding him of medicinal tea.

  He picked up a vegetable with a utensil, biting into it experimentally. The fibers were simmered to a point where they were pleasant to chew, not too tough or too mushy. They added a sweetness to the brew and a salty savoriness comparable to a fragrant mushroom.

  It was refreshing, the almost slushed broth going down his throat. He found a strange fortifying sensation saturating his nerves. Perhaps Syf’s intent was not of malice.

  When he finished, he scooted off the bed and headed toward the apartment, keeping one eye over his shoulder. No one was currently in the lab, but not wanting to push his luck in encountering Syf again, he made a hasty retreat toward the hideout. Chills ran down his spine as he pressed the door control, and he barely let the door slide apart before wedging himself through the opening.

  “Hello?” Silence replied. I guess Nara’s still working. Somewhere.

  He moved up to the bedroom, giving the computer panel on the wall a venomous glare. He approached the despicable object, raising a haughty finger at the display. Recalling the sequence Prism had used, he coaxed the text into Trade and cast his own brand of wizardry at the device.

  GREETINGS, GARRETT OF ARCADIA, CYTERUS SYSTEM. AWAITING INSTRUCTION.

  He clapped his hands together in glee, watching as the flash of menus glittered at his disposal. A curious stream of inquiry murmured from his throat as he ran a finger around the edge of the device. His skin grazed over indentations of input ports, and he wondered if the NetComm on his wrist would be compatible with the infernal machine.

  He slid a finger over the monitor until a selection of furniture options offered their control. “Let’s do something about that bed.”

  With his prods, the height of the mattress wall sank into itself, moving down to a more manageable height below his waist. His nail prodded at a column of slats resting on the bed frame. As he pulled it forward, the slats slid over the floor, extending into a set of small steps reaching the top edge of the frame.

  “So that’s how they do it.”

  The décor settings flickered deviously, inviting him to alter the aesthetics of the room. Overloaded with the responsibility of choice, he focused his attention on the walls. There, he could divide them in whatever way he wished, vertically, horizontally, even plucking out guidelines from the perimeter and bisecting them in a myriad of angles and lengths.

  His eyes moved to two color wheels on the Paint options, one marked Human and the other Ara’yulthr. But to him, they appeared exactly the same. “Weird.”

  He flipped over to the Prefab menu and was presented with a list of environments to choose from. Forest, Mountain, Arctic, and then some nestled inside the Domestic tab. He plucked at the Outsider segment, and new worlds were revealed to him. Deep Space, Nebula, Orbit. Some civilizations of neighboring planets that were computer generated from images he assumed came from the Archives.

  “Human City?” He pressed the option, and the walls shifted to a world alight with a blinding sun, no clouds to hinder its path. He pressed the weather option to Overcast and blinked away the glare in his vision.

  At his feet he saw lush grasses and plants around a dirt path leading to a collection of brick structures barely touching the sky. A great bridge of wires and steel stretched over a gently murmuring ocean. A few sea craft with churning smokestacks glided along its rippling current.

  “Where is this place?” It was nothing like Arcadia. For one, it still had an ecosystem.

  The thought of his home wove a knot in his heart. By no means did he enjoy the bright city lights, especially knowing who controlled them. But it was familiar to him, and since he had never left his world before, he never considered that other humans might live differently.

  His musings wandered toward worry as he contemplated what fate had taken Baran, his most trusted friend and caretaker. He missed the man dearly but feared the worst. If Antonin Galavantier managed to seize him in his clutches, a swift death would be a mercy.

  A soft chime dispersed his sorrow, and he looked down the stairs to find the doorframe blinking again. “What now?”

  Clearing his throat and stiffening his posture, he descended to the atrium. He opened the front door to the warm, wrinkled smile of Loremaster. They hadn’t spoken since their visit in Arcadia to help arrange Nara’s exodus, and it was nice to see them in a much calmer circumstance.

  “Oh, hello, sir—I mean—Serr.” He fussed with his clothing to make himself more presentable to the aged noble. “Nara hasn’t returned from her duties yet.”

  “Well, then.” The librarian’s smile widened. “Then I suppose I shall visit you.”

  He blinked at the offer. “Oh, I wouldn’t wa
nt to trouble you!”

  “It’s not troubling at all. I’ve been meaning to meet with you, anyway.”

  “Really? You honor me.” Garrett glided to the side and raised an arm to gesture them inside. “Please come in. I would offer you some tea but… I am not sure how to use the food dispenser.”

  Loremaster chuckled and stepped inside. “Let’s find out together.”

  They walked into the kitchen and leaned down to the computer, rubbing their chin pensively as they gently tapped the device awake. Garrett watched in fascination as the gentle visitor swiped through the menus, exuding elegance with every gesture.

  “Hmmm.” The sage’s concentration intensified. “Floral, fruits, or Earth?”

  “Oh. I do like a bit of floral.”

  “Excellent. Come this way.” They waited for Garrett to lean in before poking the Trade setting. A selection of clear vials filled with colorful liquids presented themselves in an orderly grid. “What sounds good to you? I like them all.”

  Garrett eyed through the selection. Though he could not recognize the names of the plants included, the arsenal was broken down by flavor profiles in adjectives he could understand. A deep red concoction caught his eye with descriptions including fresh softness, nuttiness, and a wisp of smoke. Further descriptors included, Best paired with mineral-rich waters and Has a sharp bite.

  “Ah. A bold choice!” Loremaster cooed, causing Garrett to question his safety. “Do you like sweets?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Fantastic!” As Loremaster coaxed the display, the grid shifting to a selection of disc-shaped objects with stampings of presumably the flavor or contents of the confection. Chunks of dark-colored bits embedded the various shades of dough. “I’ll show you a few of my favorites.”

  The dumbwaiter churned to life as Loremaster cast the order. Garrett took the initiative and went to fetch the items. He opened the cabinet to find two steaming mugs made from a plasticky material inside, accompanied by a pot of creamy liquid made from the same material as the instant food dishes from last night’s dinner. A plate of cookies sealed in a sheet of transparent bouncy polymer sat in the back along with two curious clear jars and a vial of blood-red fluid.

  Loremaster sat down and awaited the offerings, delicately plucking the vial and unscrewing the top. They poured several drops into each mug, and an aroma of charred wood and soft blossoms swirled into the air. They sniffed the vial and gave off a pleased smile before handing it to Garrett. “If you like it a bit stronger, feel free.”

  Hoping he had secured familiarity with the ritual, Garrett picked up the creamer and offered to Loremaster. “Do you take milk?”

  They smiled and chuckled. “That is Hirapod nectar, but it does serve the same purpose. I’ll take a splash.”

  “Oh, sure.” Garrett shook his head and poured the liquid inside the mugs. It added a delicate citrus note to the brew, melding with the smoke and perfume of the flowers inside the concoction.

  As he sat back down, Loremaster set to work preparing the sweets. They snapped off a knifelike tool off the plate and then opened a jar containing a creamy white spread. After wafting the contents into their nose and giving an approving hum, they smeared a thin layer of the buttery substance on a cookie.

  “I’ll prepare one of each so you can see what they are like.” They picked up a second cookie. Inside the second clear jar was a gelatinous red sludge speckled with dark orbs of what Garrett could only guess was seeds of the fruit mashed inside.

  He picked up the creamed delicacy and gave it a tactful nibble. The texture of the spread was just like a soft cheese, but the flavor reminded him more of something plant based, like fresh-cut sweet grass and clovers. It had a lovely floral note binding the fragrance together that was pleasing to the senses.

  The cookie had a moist, compact texture, much like a dense holiday cake. It had a soft flavor of grains mingled with crunchy dried citrus fruits. Crystals of silky sweetness separated the homogenous texture. He tried the jam, finding it akin to a sour berry with a peppery warmth. The orbs were crunchier than anticipated, leaving his molars sore after the workout of breaking them down.

  Though pleasant, the confection glued traces of itself around his molars. He took a sip of the warm tea, finding a lively flavor caressing his tongue. He tasted a bouquet of wild blossoms set alight by a heady combination of cinders and ash. A nutty sweetness rolled over, softening the harsh elements.

  As he looked curiously down at the mug, a strange sensation lashed across his mouth, sparking needle-like stings like the bite of a dried peppercorn combined with a tropical fruit hiding enzymes in its nectar. Numbness began to trickle over his tongue, and he pressed it on the roof of his mouth, sensation decaying as the muscle fought to detect the surrounding flesh.

  “How are you adjusting?” Loremaster’s eyebrows furrowed. “I heard you had an accident in Fariem’s workroom.”

  His lips twitched in an awkward smile as he struggled to gain control of his tongue. “Oh, that was no trouble.”

  “Modest as ever.”

  Garrett hid his nervous smile behind his cookie, wondering where his station lay under the presence of what was considered royalty. His upbringing left him deathly afraid of tripping over an unspoken protocol, something that took willpower to subdue.

  That led into thoughts about Nara and her position. She was a warlord here, someone of utmost importance as far as he could tell. He was given an abridged version of the conditions of her expulsion, and he could not fathom what sorts of consequences she would be paying. Raised in a corporate oligarchy, he had no frame of reference for the political proceedings here. Money and influence were the only methods he knew of to advance ranks, and at least one of those did not exist here.

  “Something is troubling you,” Loremaster prodded. “Do tell.”

  He perked up at the inquiry, shocked by their perception. “How much trouble is Nara really in?”

  Loremaster leaned back and considered their words. “This civilization is right in the midst of a cultural transition. For decades, centuries even, we have avoided involvement with the forces of power outside our world. But unfortunately, that time is nearing an end. And Elam has been thrown directly into the conflict.”

  “When I met her, she seemed to be just another mercenary. Gruff, no need for friends, and self-sufficient.” Garrett looked at the plate. “Then we arrived here, and she’s so much more important. It’s strange to see the shift. I’m not even sure what she does.”

  “She was pretty vocal in proceedings, carrying a neutral stance that most people agreed upon, even if they did not want to admit it.” They swirled the contents of their mug. “Her only opposition was bureaucracy, which was also shifting as new issues sprang forward. And Aberron, but he was barred from the World Council when he repeatedly made a fool of himself just to get a rise out of her.”

  Garrett recalled the warlord he saw in the games video that opposed Nara. The man brought chills to his spine. “I’ve heard of him. Not a fan.”

  “You would not be the only one.” They smirked as they drained their mug.

  “What’s his deal, anyway?”

  Loremaster vented a weighted sigh. “Abberon is trying to change our Old Ways with explosive force to create a catalyst that will throw us forward into a new era of technology.”

  “Apart from his methods, is the intent really that bad?”

  “It is perfectly acceptable to obliterate the Old Ways when they become obsolete.” They nodded. “But only when the Old Ways are rigid and refuse to change. Then force is the only way forward.”

  “And your culture is different?”

  “The problem with our Old Ways is that they are constantly changing, adapting to suit our needs. Essentially, we don’t have Old Ways. Our methods can never be obsolete. What this one is doing is destroying civilization at its root by changing us into something we are not.” They tapped a firm finger on the table. “We are not conquerors to force assimilation.
We are innovators, explorers, creators, and most importantly, defenders.”

  “That’s… hard for me to comprehend,” Garrett admitted. Arcadia was ruled by spending tons and tons of resources crushing the opponents, a futile race to scramble up before the competition swallowed you.

  Here, it was much different. The people need not want for anything. There was order, albeit room for squabbles amid a clandestine structure. People had their place and the freedom to express themselves without fear of backstabbing.

  Loremaster smiled at the student. “It is a curious contrast to your standards, isn’t it?”

  A soft chime at the door interrupted the musing.

  “Oh, excuse me.” Garrett glanced over at the intrusion. “I will get that.”

  Loremaster chuckled and stood, holding a hand up. “Let me show you a trick.” They rapped a knuckle on the tabletop, the surface shifting to a panel with a glittering button.

  The door opened to reveal a sunny Prism standing inside the frame and looking studious as ever holding their tablet.

  “Oh! I did not realize you were here, Serr’Maht. I was just wondering if the Ambassador was perhaps prepared for another lesson, but I can come back later.”

  “It’s no trouble. I have lost track of time, anyway. I will not interrupt your lesson.” Loremaster stood from their seat and politely bowed. “We shall have to do this again, Serr Garrett.”

  “Certainly.” His heart sank as he watched the man leave, alone with this predicament and the overbearing cheeriness of his captor waiting at the door.

  “So, what would you like to learn about today, Ambassador?”

  Chapter 5

  ##5.0##

  Gnarled, blackened trees clawed their way through the blood-red fog, their leaves long since burned away. The humid air pushed against her skin as she lumbered forward, thick, murky sludge infecting the atmosphere.

  She drank in the poison, taking in the acidic fire that coated her chest. The marsh-carpeted earth began to swell and rise, erasing the path with curls of hazy muck. Thorned vines crept at her legs, cutting trails into her flesh as they twirled around her muscles. She paid them no mind, stalling her gait to let them spread up her back, the barbs caressing her mangled scars.