"Knight," a voice called out from behind, one Dean recognized instantly from its silky baritone. "I am frustrated."

Dean regarded the two subordinates at his side. "I think I've said enough for now. Do you both feel equipped to lead the vanguard out?"

They both nodded; the one in the red hoodie also gave him a thumbs-up. "No prob, Knight."

Dean bumped them each lightly on the shoulder as they left, speeding off to direct their own subordinates on the next course of action. Dean turned to Eyrin, sober expression on his face. "Something wrong?" he said. Eyrin did away with the decorum involved in verdora greetings.

"The humans have been..." Eyrin cocked his head and sighed. "Insensitive."

Dean's mouth pressed into a line. "Humans tend to be that way, unfortunately."

The Prince blinked once. "You speak as though from experience."

Dean snorted. "Hah, yeah. Humans are terrible to each other, never mind aliens from other worlds. Y'know, I almost killed someone, two months ago." Dean wondered why he was talking about this story now; for some reason, he felt compelled to talk. He's a kursi, but...I don't feel like I'm being manipulated. "He came up to me for no reason other than that he could; said I hit on his girlfriend or some other nonsense. I denied it because it wasn't true."

Eyrin's veil shifted. "What happened?"

Dean chuckled humorlessly. "I told you, I almost killed the guy: He tried to punch me, and I reacted on instinct and tried to punch him back." Dean gave Eyrin a sad smile. "Unfortunately, back then, I was strong; not like now, but...if I would've hit that guy...he definitely would've died."

Eyrin frowned. "So you've never killed anyone?"

Dean's expression darkened and he turned away. "It's...complicated." Why is it complicated? he thought to himself. The answer is a clear, resounding "yes."

But that wasn't me: it was...whatever Bath made me into. Switching off my brain, or whatever he did to turn me and thousands of average Basalith people into a savage killing force.

Dean shook his head, as though the action would unscramble his thoughts. He's a good listener, Dean thought, noting that Eyrin didn't seek to fill the pause with speech. "I have killed sapients," he murmured, his eyes looking off into the distant crimson of the sky above the even deeper red of the sand. "Though I killed them in a battle."

Eyrin had a complex expression on his face. "I heard your gods can reverse the aging process. Is that true?"

Dean shifted his head around and gazed intently into Eyrin's eyes. "Yeah, they can."

"How does it work?"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure; the Church and Dragon simply announced that I received a few extra years of life. I don't feel any different because of it."

Eyrin continued his line of questioning, a fiery curiosity burning in his eyes. "Have none of you humans bore witness to this alleged age reversal?"

Dean gave Eyrin a tired look. "Eyrin; I don't know what you've been told, but the COTD is new. Two months ago, nobody knew who the Church and Dragon were; nobody had heard of city-seeds, boons, PP...only Earth's kursi knew about gates and sapient life on other worlds.

"Though, if you're asking about age reversal on behalf of someone..." Dean smirked and rolled his eyes, as though looking back on a humorous memory. "Trust me, it's the real deal." I'd bet my life that Bath could make everyone live forever if he wanted.

Eyrin shook his head slowly. "No--that's not why I'm asking," he replied, his voice low. "This camp, you, the commanders of this outfit..." he snorted sadly into his veil. "You're all children." Eyrin's tone of voice was such that Dean didn't feel offended by his incredulity. Instead, he felt that Eyrin pitied him, which only made him want to hide his face in one of the many surrounding dunes.

But he was past hiding; his boons made sure of that. "People grow up fast when they need to," Dean replied. He laughed, then said, "On Earth, we have two famous sayings: One is, with great power comes great responsibility; the other is, absolute power corrupts absolutely."

Eyrin sighed, walking around Dean's body to face the distant expanse rather than Dean's face. "They're similar," Eyrin observed, sitting down on the sand.

"Yeah, I guess they are," Dean replied. "COTD gave all of Earth power; no matter how old I, or anyone else is, we've had to accept the accompanying responsibility. Actually, I have another saying that's applicable."

Eyrin snorted warmly; Dean had the impression that the sapient was smiling underneath his veil. "Do tell."

"Some people are born great," Dean began. "While some people have greatness thrust upon them."

Eyrin turned around, looking Dean in the eye, his gaze fierce and tainted by disgust. "Interesting," he murmured, his eye crests furrowing inward. "So, COTD's mantra of self-determination isn't just empty words."

Dean smiled cooly. "To find true self-determination, all sapients must be given the opportunity to do well: Equal opportunity at its finest." He closed his eyes.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Isn't it better to ensure an equal outcome?" Eyrin asked.

Dean opened his eyes, tilting his head. "Equal outcome?"

"Never mind," the verdora muttered. "This isn't what I came here to discuss, though I did find it interesting. I've come to petition on behalf of the verdora on this expedition for enforcement of cultural acclimation classes."

Dean walked over to Eyrin and sat by his side, his legs up and his arms out to support him as he leaned back. "Can you, um, explain that? I'm not saying no, but I'm not exactly sure what that entails."

Instead of replying with words, Eyrin began to project a hologram from his chip reader. Dean watched with interest as Eyrin's recorded voice called on a verdora woman to speak.

Dean listened through all of the testimonies. He was silent, though at times he expressed his emotions by clenching his fists or flaring his nostrils. Suddenly, the video recording cut off.

"I would like to avoid these occurrences in the future," Eyrin stated. "I believe the best way to do that is to teach humans the cultural practices of the verdora. In turn, the verdora will learn about the cultural practices of humans."

"You think that'll work?" Dean asked dubiously. People on Earth learn about the Holocaust in school, then go out and become neo-Nazis. People take history classes about slavery, Jim Crowe, learn about MLK and the Civil Rights movement...and somehow think that racism is a relic of the past.

Eyrin waited a moment before responding. "I think it will help," he replied. "Moreover, cultural training will provide an excellent opportunity to practice teaching boons." Eyrin smiled and nudged a gloved hand into Dean's wrist. "I know you have little faith that this will work," Eyrin acknowledged. "But remember, you have a contingent of six kursi to smooth any tensions over."

Dean chuckled. "Why are you advising me? Just a one or two hours ago, I was leading you into the gate and directing you to the other kursi."

"Because," the Prince replied simply, "you need advising. And, I think, a good listener."

Dean was silent for a spell. "Why are you speaking to me without decorum?"

"I hate decorum," Eyrin replied, running a hand through his mane. "Though I am unsure of its efficacy, I prefer your method of leadership to those I have been exposed to in the past. We verdora have a saying of our own: Fear accompanies respect; love accompanies loyalty. The balance is important, though too often leaders on Illudis engender fear and neglect love."

"It's the same on Earth," Dean replied wistfully. "It's probably the same everywhere."

Eyrin shot him a quizzical look. "Not here." With that, he stood up and shook his body to clear his robe of clinging sand. He glanced back, saying, "Everyone in this camp is getting into formation." He waved as he strode off. "Until the next."

And then there was one, Dean thought as he stood up and whipped around to face the camp. Time to move toward the gate.

---

Bath's disembodied eyes floated just off to Dean's side, flitting about so as not to be seen. He watched as Dean and Eyrin talked, watched the testimonies, talked some more, and then departed, each going his own way.

Why did Juserin say to watch out for Eyrin? Bath wondered as he dissipated the set of eyes. The Prince seems fine to me.

In actuality, though Bath wouldn't admit it to himself, he thought that Eyrin might actually be...wiser than himself. Which was, of course, impossible; Bath was millions of years old. How could a youngling like Eyrin even hope to compare?

And yet...he was able to act as a mentor to Dean. Me, I've never been able to fulfill that role. Their conversation struck a hard note within him, in particular with regards to the human and verdoran sayings.

I've thrust responsibility in the form of power on humanity, he realized, as though such a reality had never crossed his mind before. Humans are awful. Though to my credit, I've already made them better. Part of the pain killing boon he'd made for the human brain also numbed certain emotions at key set points. For instance, when adrenaline pumped through the body, the boon numbed fear, regret, and disgust, while the adrenaline still provided a relatively potent thrill unhindered by the suppressed negative emotions.

The boon also worked to stymie feelings of hate and sadness, emotions he identified as harbingers of outward and inward violence, respectively. I also included the educator boons, four of them, for purposes such as those Eyrin brought up. Though Bath had to give Lisa credit for that: in creating the preliminary COTD hierarchy upon their return from the eight-day gate-traveling escapade, she dedicated a large block of hierarchy positions to those involving the dissemination of knowledge.

However, the verdoran quote about fear and love...Bath found that it left a sour feeling in his mouth. Which is odd, he remarked after banishing his tongue in an attempt to dispel the flavor, since I can't taste.

"Erzey," Bath said, looking back and to the left. The two Delelen verdora flanked him as they walked forward in line with the other verdora. "Do you enjoy philosophy?"

"Ah," Erzey exclaimed, smiling. "You've asked the right Delelen."

Juselin snorted. "Indeed; your intuition is impeccable: I detest philosophy."

"Tell me your thoughts on the saying, 'Fear accompanies respect; love accompanies loyalty.'"

Erzey cocked her head, skin darkening. "I don't recognize this saying," she said. "Though that won't prevent me from offering an analysis. If you don't mind me asking, where did you find this?"

Didn't Eyrin say that this was a verdoran saying!? "Haha, no problem: It's a saying in my village."

"From the Wilderness?" Juselin asked, as though the possibility were scandalous.

Why not. "Yes," Bath replied, laughing lightly. "I'm surprised you guessed at its origin."

"It's a fairly simple phrase," Erzey began. "Self-explanatory, really," she said, giggling. "What philosophical analysis are you looking for?"

This is stupid, he growled internally. The English version of this saying is much better. "Let me rephrase: is it better to be feared, or loved?"

Erzey snorted. "I detest false dichotomies. If I had to choose to be anything, I'd choose to be respected."

"But if you had to choose?"

"Feared," Juselin interjected hastily, voice uncharacteristically harsh. “Love is unreliable, difficult to read."

Erzey glanced around at the crush of verdora and the humans and quasi-sapients beyond them. "Agreed." Her voice was tight.

This response surprised Bath. The two cousins had spent the past hour detailing the various luxuries with which they had grown up, such as their opulent, football-stadium-sized hover palace. Living in a mobile palace had many advantages, such as the ability to touch down all over Illudis and explore all of its bountiful provinces. This was all possible, Bath discovered, because their father was Juserin's equivalent of a Secretary of State.

And yet, despite the many tales the Delelens have told me...amongst all these verdora, they only have each other. I'm still unsure why they've latched onto me, going as far as to follow in my wake and cling onto my every word like magnets.

"Hold on," Bath said, interrupting the conversation. "We're moving out."

As he announced their imminent departure, he noticed how ill-equipped the two cousins--and the other verdora--seemed to traverse the desert's uneven, shifting terrain. How will these verdora keep pace with the likes of Dean? At most, they have close combat boons.

Oh. Right, Bath smirked. The horses.