{August 2006}

“We weren’t always evil.”

Korac stared into the prism at the embodiment of retribution sleeping inside. He started another of many one-sided conversations with her in the last three weeks. “Every hour,” Nox commanded. And so, Korac obeyed. In this pit, laid the only real threat to the expansion of the Icarean kingdom. The nacre tranquilizers pumped into her system on the hour kept her unconscious. Kept them alive. He regarded these check-ins as opportunities, and he refused to waste them.

“General Callahan.”

No response.

Surrounded in gallons of her own blood, Korac feared the day she would answer. How could he reason with her? After everything she witnessed and everything she survived, he imagined her responses:

“We lost hope in finding a better way.”

Xelan didn’t.

“We didn’t see any other option.”

Xelan did.

Korac cursed. “The truth is, Rayne, you were brought up by the very best of us. He set an impossible standard for us to live by. Don’t confuse our misjudgments for sins. We wanted what was best for Icarean kind.”

But also ignored Xelan when he told everyone of a better way.

“When you invoke the Tenements of Vengeance, keep that in mind. We weren’t always evil, and most of the Icarean people are innocent.” He peered up the cube-shaped rock chamber to the sky several hundred stories above them. “They’ve been on the edge of starvation for so long without any hope of recovery. They followed the only leadership they knew. Please, don’t take your rage out on them.”

Please? Wow. Begging? This was the time to do it, though, if there ever had been. Despite the liters of blood drilled from her hourly, she recovered it within seconds. Like her progenitor—like a Tritan—she healed quickly. Nox was right to worry. Through the murky pool, her pale complexion glowed. Her lips, a soft rose, smiled on occasion. Long nails tightened into clenched fists periodically. The picture of health at eighteen, every sinewed muscle of her body pulsed at the thirty-minute mark.

Korac clenched his jaw. He leaned as close as the gold accents on the Complex allowed. “Where in the castle shall we go, today? The dungeon? Take the ramp into the tunnel. One right. Two lefts. A ramp down. Four lefts. And you’re there. I suspect if you’re choosing to go there it’s for your revenge on your traitorous admirer. He thought he was doing the right thing. You’re all so young and naive. Like we once were. Until—”

The exsanguination mechanism cut him off. The gold razor-sharp cylinders spun to mine for her blood. Her body shuddered and tensed with the machine’s efforts. Her brows pulled tight in distress. As co-designer and developer, Korac despised its use on an unintended victim. Still, he watched in fascination as the sanguine liquid topped off within the complex. The whir silenced, and the drilling ceased. She relaxed again one muscle at a time.

Shame suffused him. Celindria belonged in there, not Rayne. He dreaded the day he faced Sagan’s censure over the last three weeks. He—

“Huh…” He almost forgot this feeling. Concerned over the expectations of another. Worried about letting down their opinion of him. He clutched the axe missing its mate and pushed a hand through his hair. In love again. “Thought I learned after the first time…”

He peered behind him to his audience. Rayne smiled through the glass. His skin wanted to get up and crawl away. The smile was beautiful and kind. The sort of smile she’d shine on Sagan or Xelan. Who was that smile for now?

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The memory unbidden, he recalled helping Nox in heave her struggling body into that hellhole. His mind flashed to an old memory of deep eyes with a midnight-blue ring judging him in perpetual disappointment. Korac closed his eyes. To shut it all out.

Time to go. Unfurling his wings, he launched through the tower opening and into the sky. He addressed the Icarean soldiers posted on the rock. “Remember, at the slightest indication of change, inform me. Do not approach the Complex under any circumstances.”

“Sir.”

Korac soared across the migrating herd of his desolate people. Garbed in layers of gray, brown, and black, he welcomed the introduction of Earth fashion to their drab existence. If King Nox allowed it, of course. Dressed in faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt, he stood out amongst his own kind. Not that the shocking white hair locked in a mix of braids and loose strands didn’t set him apart on its own. Everyday he dressed prepared to see her. And everyday he checked with his scouts for word of her location.

The conduit kept unlocked by Rayne’s blood crackled energy over his skin and feathers. Again, the brief glimpse of a world in between. A mystery left unknown to him. T.A.O. once walked through those halls, and now Sagan frequented the Seam. One day, he wished to explore it with her. Perhaps, in time.

Egypt and Cinder shared a similar solitude in their wastelands. The sandy smell of dry air and reptiles left him craving the forest or the ocean. He looked forward to relocating the army to the main site and eventually settling the Icarean people there. Tents populated the sand as far as he could see. A vast city of his people pitched new homes on the surface of Earth. Alone in the sky, Korac allowed himself one celebratory smile. They were winning.

Relieved, he veered away from the immigrants and located his troops. In three weeks, one billion passed through the conduit into Egypt. Today, the last of the mobile suit units arrived. Good. They were needed to relocate the Cruor Villam. The crawler units fit on the cargo planes just fine along with the troops. The hellkites, drakes, and sabers managed travel on their own. Useful pets, perfectly trained and honed for combat. He loved them. He kept that to himself, of course.

The human race stood no chance of surviving if they chose to resist.

Korac alighted at the top of the desert fortress. Four weeks ago, this was the last room he expected Nox to employ as his command center. After the capture of General Callahan, his brother-in-arms hardly left it. Did it make him feel safe hiding among his brother’s belongings? Or was this how Nox mourned the Icarus he executed for treason? The situation grew more complicated with every development.

He knocked on the door and entered on Nox’s command. “Sire.” The sight of the observatory tightened his chest after the Vacating, but with the bittersweetness of his time spent here with Xelan so very long ago. Now… the scent of musty old books and wood polish drew from him a sorrow that arrested his reason. After all that time wishing for the Traitor Prince’s reprisal, he never imagined the world completely without him. Never imagined his King would truly kill his own brother. Actually, so much of what Korac imagined about the return to Earth did not play out as he expected.

Beyond the telescope, King Nox stared out at the sun setting over the dunes. The giant twisted his signet ring. Even with his side profile, the brothers shared an uncanny resemblance. A ruefully handsome face with angled eyebrows, high cheekbones, and a carved jawline. His voice was heavier than usual as if Korac interrupted his thoughts, he inquired with the same question he asked Korac each day, “She sleeps?”

“She does, your majesty. Soundly,” Korac lied.

Nox brushed his ringed hand through that thick black mane he called hair. “Good. Report.”

“Still investigating the death of the Progeny parents. A member of The Brethren took the fall and named you, but his people lacked the resources to accomplish such a feat on their own. You’re right about the familiarity. There is a recognizable trademark to the murders. I’ve sent my best guards to track down a few leads.

“No new reports on Tameka and Sagan’s whereabouts since they left Toronto last week. Andrew also relocated with Lucas. Sagan’s ability to travel through the Seam at will puts our scouts at a disadvantage. We are unaware of their locations at this time.”

“Hmm. Of the Progeny, we only know the location of the strongest and the traitor. It would prove a grave error to assume the others pose no threat. No. They’re coordinating a rescue attempt.”

Korac nodded in agreement. “A reasonable assessment, sire.”

Nox turned back to the desert, his hand back on the ring. Korac almost gasped at the next words the King chose to speak. “You’re the closest person to family I have left, General. I trust you to see our people to paradise. We must complete this mission and fell those who stand in our way.”

For the good of the people, Korac agreed wholeheartedly. “Yes, your majesty.”

“Now, let’s discuss the plan for drawing them out.”