Chapter XVIII

Kevary

Prepared for the sentinels, Corven hid in silence. They hadn't seen him; he had slipped under the plaza structure before they walked across, laughing about a joke, oblivious to his presence. The moonlight's reflection in Oxen Plaza was enough to blind anyone for a second, and he used this advantage to ensure no one was left after those marauders had passed.

It seemed safe; the plaza was arranged with tens of metallic squared plaques placed next to each other, each the size of a body, together resembling two Olympic size pools. From his research, the former binah knew it had witnessed many deaths through the years. The platforms beneath, when activated, were used to exhibit and execute transgressors of the regime when necessary.

Before the current government, led by Roland Copernus, took power, the country had been under the rule of Alis Vacter, the previous president responsible for all the dried, unwashed blood stains on the metal floor. She had utilized Oxen Plaza, among other places, to intimidate the citizens of Dictaduria throughout the twenty years of her reign.

Corven climbed down a short stair that led him beneath the platforms; he was struck by déjà vu. The night they had stolen the alters replayed with more clarity in his head. He had a vague idea of where they were, so he walked to where his gut guided him.

A couple of meters later, he kneeled on the ground and pulled from one platform. It was heavy and rusty. The motion made Corven remember how he and Kevary had lifted one together. He looked on the corners under it with disappointment; it was the wrong one.

"Furka!" he whispered, bringing it down, trying not to make a sound. His best option was to lift the oversized tiles around that area, bound to find the right one eventually. Before Corven started that task, he walked around, double-checking there was no one ready to sneak up on him. It was early for more sentinels to arrive, but it was only a matter of time before they showed up. He returned to the base of the plaza and continued searching.

The Dictadurian lifted platform after platform without finding the alters, giving up on trying to remember the right one. Every so often, Corven stopped and strolled around the perimeter looking for intruders. Pure willpower drove him to continue with the task at hand while his brain got distracted, formulating scenarios of what could happen next, both good and bad.

Meida and Timor might not have been the only ones hunting for the stolen modifiers, it was a pressing worry that someone could tail Kevary. Gorbat would send more umbras after Corven considering what happened to those torturers.

Corven feared not finding them; the task could take the whole day. His mind wandered to his Domus in Novo Oporto. His home was in a floating city that emulated the original Oporto, built by Binah hundreds of years ago. When that construction ended, the entire population had moved to a stagnum replica of their home to preserve and restore Old Oporto, which had suffered from the catastrophes of the 122nd century.

A trend for city restorations in the skies had occurred across the globe, as new versions of long-standing territories were built by Sephirot, hoping to protect their history and legacy in the skies while the long standing cities on the ground could be visited with travel passports. It was regulated, hoping to keep those remains intact for as long as possible. Most cultural sites thrived thanks to that decision.

The bird’s-eye view of Old Oporto from his Domus was breathtaking.

He had been searching for thirty minutes. Thinking about home, made Corven nostalgic; he might never step on it again. It was a beautiful residence suspended in the sky a few miles away from the city center, tied by chains to a stagnum along with a neighborhood of other domus. He had shaped it with his abilities, using his favorite materials, marcasite, and fluorite, synthesizing them to create a metacrys of remarkable properties. It was also the reason he had been convicted.

Everything he had wanted was in that Domus: an enormous bed, a beautiful kitchen, a spacious living room, a garden, an experience theater, a gym, and even a pool. Becoming an extarri had been caused by his own selfish mistakes. After seven years of training in Ylfenor, Corven had become a Binah, and his long-life dream had come true, only to be ruined by greed.

A voice came out of nowhere, startling him.

“You won’t find the alters there. Wrong side,” Kevary's voice reached his ears.

Relief made Corven's knees buckle; he turned around and fell on his rear.

“Are you going into shock or something? You look like furka,” she said, looking down at him with piercing lilac eyes.

"Please don't cry. I won't be able to handle it."

"We have to get them back. The umbras are looking for them. I almost died. They might hunt you too; we have to leave Dictadura as soon as we can," Corven recovered his posture and burst out with everything he had to share with her.

"I know," Kevary said while her expression remained unexpressive.

"You know?" Corven was unable to understand how she could remain calm about it.

"Gorbat is looking for his alters and us; it was bound to happen. That's why I took them away from Oxen Plaza and placed them somewhere safer…" she trailed off.

"Let's get out of here; the sentinels are nearby. I saw them coming on my way," she turned around.

He had been searching in the wrong place. Corven left the last platform and sprinted, trying to catch up. After minutes of silent walking, they arrived back at her block.

"Wait here, be alert," she instructed with caution, scanning the perimeter while Corven checked the street and nearby blocks.

When he turned back to Kevary’s block, the lights were on, and she was waiting for him, leaning on the doorframe. "Are you staying there all night?"

He ignored the question and went in. When the metallic door shut behind him, it gave Corven a sense of safety he hadn't felt since leaving Adria.

It felt good not to be alone anymore.

The interior of the concrete block featured a tiny kitchen, two rooms, and a shared space, all painted in shades of purple. An old, violet couch and a white coffee table brought style to the living room. At a corner of it, at least a hundred ancient books and DVDs and hard drives were piled next to a flat-screen monitor—technology almost six hundred years old, all collecting dust. In the walls, handmade abstract paintings with those same tones hanged, intriguing and magnetic.

Kevary's house had strips of LED lights around the walls with a tone that also matched her eyes.

"I imagined it was a possibility you would come to get the alters," her voice came from the next room.

"I wish I knew where you were!" Corven thought about all the effort he had made for nothing, legs still shaking.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Did you expect me to stay indoors with everything I had to do?" Kevary emerged with another shirt. "Someone spilled their drink on me…"

"You could've left a message!"

"Like a note? Does it seem like a risk I would take? Don't be stupid."

"You're right, sorry," he accepted, realizing the lack of logic in his comment.

Kevary got closer.

"Good, because I had stuff to do. It is none of your business, but one doesn't just disappear from Dictaduria one day and call it a day, you know? I had to plan the death of five people, including yours."

"What? Why would you do that?" He asked, not understanding what Kevary was trying to say.

"You'll be officially dead in two days. You're welcome," she repeated.

"Why would I be thankful for that?" The man felt she was making a poor joke.

"Corven, either you're slow, or the xtracter is still causing trouble in your head; which one is it?" Kevary's eyes widened.

"None! Just explain yourself. Please," he exploded with exasperation.

"Didn't I say 'officially'? That means you will be presumed dead in Dictaduria, with body and I.D. However, it won't be you; by then, you should have ingested an Alter, and Corven Xikram will be dead, gone forever, and whoever you become will roam free in Malkuth without the shadow of your current self, menacing your present."

"You did that for me?" He was captivated; there was a chance to go home.

"Of course I did; you got us to the alters. We can call it even." Her smile, contagious.

“It’s unfair to be here, the streets out there are hell and our crimes weren’t as bad, at least not to be placed in Dictaduria. Capitalia, perhaps, but furkan concrete country had to be. You missed all the fun of my almost murder! It was quite a show, with more than enough blood and curses too entertain the gevurah watching from Dicterium."

The Dictadurian removed the top of his jumper and the shirt underneath it, exposing his abdomen, full of new, pink scars. Kevary's eyes focused on the healed stabs; she remained quiet for a second, contemplating his skin.

"Someone helped you. There's no way you healed that by yourself. What happened?"

"Two umbras sent by Gorbat followed me; Meida and Timor. I tried to lose them but got lost escaping. They captured and tortured me for a while, almost killed me. A woman saved me." His mind replayed her actions, the blur of it—the pink smoke, Meida punching his wounds, Adria appearing out of nowhere, and fragments of their fight.

"Who is she?" Kevary was intrigued.

"I don't know, but I owe her my life. That's why I'm going to give her two of my alters." Corven covered his upper body.

"I'm glad she found you. That's one hell of a healing job, way better of anything I could’ve done. I'm sorry you had to go through it."

"It's not your fault. I'm glad they didn't get to you," Corven saw her respect for Adria and felt relief, glad she did not oppose his plans.

"So, I guess you're here for a reason, right? Let’s go, straight to the point. In front of you, inside the couch."

"That's a safer place?"

"No, not at all. That's why I'm leaving…"

Corven lifted a maroon cushion; beneath it was a hole in the fabric, and inside, a faded, yellow metallic toolbox held the keys that would take them back to Malkuth and life in aequiteism, a second chance for the lucky ones. The Dictadurian stared at it; his body feeling pounds lighter after ensuring the one thing he had been trying to protect was safe. They would succeed, he believed it.

Kevary left the living room and checked that the three windows on her block were closed and covered before she returned.

"I think it's time we split them; wouldn't you agree?"

He smirked at her without containing his relief. Kevary interpreted his reaction as approval to proceed; the woman took the toolbox out of the couch, placed it on the aluminum table, and with a quick twist of her wrist, pulled the lid open; inside, there was a dark bag meant to protect the alters. She unraveled it.

There, piled up together in the piece of fabric, were twelve crystal vials with beautiful carvings; they contained an obscure liquid inside. Corven grabbed one; the coldness of the crystal sent shivers through him as he studied the patterns on it. He imagined some symbolic meaning behind them as they held the genetics of twelve different people.

Kevary had two leather pouch bags, one in each hand, and offered one to him—a gift.

"Before you give me that look, these were knitted with graphene; it was a pretty good deal for Negativus; they're supposed to protect anything inside of them. Those alters won't get a scratch on them, you'll see."

Corven was grateful.

"So, this is it," he sensed there was something she was hiding.

"This is it," Kevary admitted, tone softened. "I'm done saving your ass, Corven." She went to the table and grabbed half of the deal. "I can't bring you with us."

"I didn't assume I was going with."

"It's too risky. I would bring you under other circumstances, but I have to protect my people," Kevary placed six alters inside her bag.

"You already did enough for me. I get it," Corven picked up the six remaining modifiers and placed them inside his bag. "They are lucky to have you there for them, friend."

"I knew you would understand."

She walked back to her room; he followed and stood in the doorway. The dark purple room was a mess; a single bed with matching covers was pushed to a corner, surrounded by clothes and items around a backpack; next to it, there was a nightstand with a lava lamp and more books piled up.

"You're leaving," he realized at that moment.

"Tonight," Kevary rushed to get everything inside the bag.

"You didn't waste any time."

"It's been twelve years for us. My boyfriend and his siblings are waiting for me. That's all I can tell you," she folded a shirt and a pair of pants before heading to the cornered bathroom.

"Why?" He felt slightly offended.

"The umbras know your face by now. If they succeed in their search and capture you, I can't afford to risk myself by telling you about our plans." Kevary returned with a couple of toothbrushes, paste, a menstrual cup, soap, and medicine.

"Been there, done that, and you're still alive, aren't you?" Corven's defensiveness masked the fact he thought Kevary was right to make that decision. "I get it, don't worry, it's for their safety."

"I'm not worried; suck it up. Don't make me feel worse than I already do," she finished packing. "You'll be fine, even if it doesn't seem like it. You got what it takes."

Kevary gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder.

"I've got a plan. Adria is on my side; I'll be in Malkuth tomorrow night. I trust her. It's blurry for me because, you know, I was bleeding out, but the stuff she can do is amazing!" He said, sounding like a child, recounting a tale of his favorite Sephirah.

"You are a dork, but if you're telling the truth about this chick, I believe you might escape. If you do, contact me. We can celebrate our freedom with a beer," he could see remorse and apology in her lilac eyes. "There's a place on the outskirts of Nova Praha; I think you'd like it. The name is Thebes & Cadmus. Let's meet two weeks from today there, shall we? Unless you get captured and sent to Eslavia," Kevary teased, pushing him to make that reunion happen.

"I will see you then," he extended his arm to her. "Aequitas, Kevary."

"Aequitas, Furkano. I'll see you soon." She wrapped her arm around his.

He turned back, ready to leave with the alters in hand.

"Wait," Kevary handed him a couple of thousand gatvits in cash, paper bills of different denominations, and a plastic bag with ten enhancer pills. "Take this, there isn’t much I could do with; it’ll help you out if you're feeling exhausted, just don't overdo it."

"I'll pay you back; it's a promise.”

"Don't worry; you've already done it. Benedixi, my friend." Kevary’s last words reached as the metallic entrance closed behind Corven, back on his own.

****

That's it for Chapter XVIII!

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