Rayne tried to school her face, her voice, and her posture. Don’t ruin it for the rest. Don’t let them know. Whatever they were staring at with such wonder and awe, Rayne desperately tried to see it.
It looked like an ocean to her. Same as before. Discretely, Rayne raised her hand to her branded cheek. It was still lumpy with scar tissue. She commanded her left arm to move. Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.
Don’t cry. Don’t let them see.
Give them this moment of complete safety and adventure while Rayne’s blood boiled beneath, and she fought not to scream in frustrated rage.
“Tumu,” Xelan called not four steps behind her.
When Rayne peered over to the familiar Tritan, he was staring at Rayne. She frowned. Not exactly happy with him at the moment, the sight of him audaciously examining her while ignoring Xelan’s call fanned stirred the storm of her temper. And she’d done so good not attacking him as he’d confiscated her knife earlier.
Tameka asked, “What’s wrong?”
Tumu said, “Peaches, it’s okay. It’s just part of the arrangement.”
Xelan took a few steps toward the Tritans. “What. Arrangement? Tumu, I swear to Elden if you—”
Eminent Lance held up a placating hand and said, “General Callahan, you are a special case.”
Rayne’s frown deepened even as Sagan placed a gentle hand on her good shoulder to ease her. Rayne said, “Please go on.” Her voice sounded empty and flat even to her.
“We can’t allow you to have access to a working nacre, yet—”
“Why in the world not?” Xelan interrupted. When his voice took on that hard edge, the protective implication always made Rayne’s heart expand. She loved him for always looking out for her, but today, she needed to do it herself. She touched his arm. When he snapped to her, she shook her head.
Tameka took the signal from there and grabbed Xelan’s hand, drawing him back with her. He resisted only momentarily before joining their family. Them against the Tritans. Sagan had already spread her feet apart and squared her shoulders. Kyle reached to his pocket as if he’d hidden a surprise. Looking back at the aliens, Rayne would bet on her family every time.
With a glare in Xelan’s direction, the Eminent continued, “The Probability Matrix—”
Rayne rolled her eyes.
“—Demonstrated some troubling outcomes regarding your possession of a nacre and the abilities therein. So for insurance, we gave you a special nacre with some…” Lance searched for a word. “Limitations guided by our own governing.”
Rayne clarified, “Mine doesn’t work… until you want it to.”
“Precisely.”
“How do you make it work?” Xelan did not sound happy. Maybe he was taking this harder than Rayne because she was handling it so well. Or maybe he knew something she didn’t as to how their ‘governing’ worked.
Eminent Lance said, “When we deem it’s time, we’ll provide General Callahan with the means to unlock the potential of that very special nacre.” He beamed as if this were pleasant news.
Meanwhile, Rayne’s friends lost the history of their injuries since birth around her, and she cradled her arm to her chest without the ability to see beyond the ocean. Now felt like a wonderful time to have a tantrum. Glancing down at her cropped sweater and slacks, she evaluated exactly what a fit of anger would bring her. They already thought of her as a loose cannon. A weapon. So much so they’d rather send her into Cinder one-armed and ungifted. If Rayne went off on the Tritans here, she might never get her nacre activated.
Rayne glanced behind her. Her friends stood at the ready. Sagan and Tameka had paired for a move Rayne recognized from training. Kyle gave her a wink. Xelan was coiled so tight he reminded her of a great cat ready to bound on its prey. She gave a brief shake of her head and muttered, “I’ll be all right.” She faced the Eminent and asked, “What next?”
All four Tritans visibly relaxed, and two of them let out a breath they’d been holding. Lance clapped his hands together. “Right. Good. To the Pantheon.” He peered behind her to Xelan. “Obviously, you’re not welcome.” Tameka spared the Icarus a knowing look.
Rayne hated being out of the loop. She said, “I won’t go anywhere without him.”
“Yes, you will, Rayne. We’ll all be fine,” Xelan promised from behind. “Besides. I want to have a chat with Tumu while you’re off representing humanity.”
The Eminent reprimanded, “If we permit it.”
Rayne said, “You will. As part of our accord. Tumu acts as a liaison for Earth, and I permit our liaison from Cinder to conduct talks.”
Eminent Lance inclined his head, conceding to her. Then he indicated with a sweep of his hand, “This way.”
A conduit sparked on the other side of the platform. The three Tritans followed while Tumu stayed behind with Xelan. Sagan, Tameka, Kyle, and Rayne looped their arms together according to the proportion requirements. Lance went first. Followed by a second Tritan. Then the four Progeny stepped through. Rayne’s three friends paused and took in the new sight of wherever they’d landed.
Rayne couldn’t see what they saw. It was just another square in the middle of another ocean. Enki was a maze so vast and complex her head ached with the scale of it.
Sagan said, “We’re at the top, Rayne.” Then, in an act of love which broke Rayne’s heart, Sagan described everything as she saw it. “We can almost see through to the bottom, but not quite. The star is in the way. But everything sweeps and curves away from us here. You’ll see it one day. I’ll make sure of it.” She kissed Rayne’s hair, lingering for a second as Rayne soaked up all the kindness and love.
Kyle cleared his throat next to them. “Unfriendly territory.”
Tameka rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the subtle reminder.”
“If you would,” Eminent Lance coaxed. “This way.”
He stepped off the platform and onto an invisible surface.
Tameka cried, “I can see it now!”
Kyle said, “It’s just a glass square. The seams are so fine they were invisible before.”
Rayne assumed he was saying it for her benefit.
They gathered on the same large square, a little smaller than the platform. “Take a deep breath. Try not to panic,” the Eminent instructed, immediately engaging Rayne’s panic mode.
When the glass square took off, she clutched Sagan’s arm. They skidded across the surface of the ocean like a mosquito or someone ice-skating over a frozen lake. But much, much faster. So fast, Rayne shut her eyes as the blurring sights turned into darkness. Just nothing. Her brain couldn’t keep up with it.
Meanwhile, the others balked and awed. Deep breath. The lack of inertia helped. Nothing strained Rayne physically with this velocity. She simply couldn’t see it.
A warm hand slid into Rayne’s. Tiny. Sagan’s. She gripped it until the other girl let go.
Sagan announced, “We’re here.”
Rayne let her eyes open and peered up at an impressive structure made of something close to marble. Pale and creamy. Good ol’ fashioned columns holding up the exterior pavilion. A humongous blue mass occupied the center. Like, the size of a dinosaur. As she stared at it, the thing moved. Breathed. It inhaled. So very much taller than them, but familiar. It looked like—
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Eminent Lance said, “This is our oldest living Primary. He wishes to speak with the Progeny of Cinder and Earth. Please.” He gestured to the pavilion. “We’ll wait for you here.”
Rayne practically ran up the stairs, eager to get this over with and get to Cinder. She wanted her nacre activated, dammit. The others followed. She paused in the pavilion. Looking up at skyscrapers did weird things to perspective. So tall and so high, the building would appear to fall over.
Rayne stared at a Tritan so tall, her body reacted in the same way. And he blinked back down at her. She couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open as she gaped.
Sagan gasped.
Kyle muttered, “Holy shit.”
The redheaded Sovereign Ambassador called, “Hello!” The three peered at her. She shrugged. “What?”
Thunder roared from above. Rayne squeezed her hand over one ear.
“Hello, daughter of Earth and Cinder.”
Great. All the Tritans seemed to take a shine to Tameka.
“My name is Tameka! This is Sagan, Rayne, and Kyle. What do you call yourself?”
Sagan snickered.
Tameka said, “Shh… I’m being diplomatic.”
“I am called Primary Rem, and I have waited ten thousand years to meet you.” The mammoth alien stepped aside to reveal a cascading waterfall with no source and no pool beneath. The unusual dark, almost black, color of it captivated Rayne. As she stared, the water shifted and danced, flickered and formed a shadow.
Rayne frowned, and Sagan whispered in her ear, “It’s fire. Can you see it?”
A waterfall of black flames.
Rayne’s pulse pounded at her wrists as something significant formed a link in her mind. The torrent tumbled over and descended like a fountain made entirely of the same fire she’d seen in Nox’s chambers from her dreams and Xelan’s study. Remembering what her favorite Icarus had said about her being the only visitor, she peered at her friends. She’d resolved to keep this a secret for now.
The floor beneath them stirred. Rayne tipped when they were abruptly whisked into the sky, level to Primary Rem’s face on thin air and to the ‘source’ of the endless shower of fire. The black disks of his eyes were easily taller than an Icarus. In them, the reflection of the flames surrounded the reflection of her friends.
Primary Rem said, “I regret the circumstances of our meeting. I will not waste anymore time. This fire is called Cascading Light.” Again, a chord struck in Rayne’s memory at the name. She couldn’t reach it. She needed to talk to Xelan. Rem continued, “Within, we discern near-infinite possibilities and calculate them into the Probability Matrix.”
Sagan plopped on the invisible barrier between them and sudden death. She sat cross-legged. Tameka copied her. Like kindergartners for storytime, Kyle collapsed and stretched his legs out. Rayne checked with the Primary. He nodded at her, and she sat with her friends.
The Primary said, “Stare into the flames and embrace all that has come to pass for you to be possible. This is your beginning, you special beings of two worlds.”
{Near 150,000,000 Years Ago}
Millions of ravenous bi-pedal predators scoured the lush surface of an evolving planet. They mounded over a vast hillside. They attacked the higher ground with their teeth and their claws. In their talons, they ripped away flesh. It was not a hillside, and it was enormous.
As they writhed over their dinner, glimpses of milky and dark blue flesh peeked through their frenzy. The skin shown translucent with faint traces of black blood vessels throughout. They burrowed inside the toughened exterior and into the gelatinous remains. Wild. Hungry. Only instinct, devoid of thought.
From the center of the fallen Gargantuan Tritan, a beast emerged less beastly than he’d entered. His posture was straight, his eyes roved across the sky, and his hands were clean of flesh.
In eating the first outsider, he’d evolved. He looked down to examine his people, who peered at him in return. Alone. Upright and thinking, he was alone. So much to do. It had to be done. He turned to Li, their star. From it, he assumed a glorious mission for his people. He would not be alone for long.
As he guided them to their evolution across millions of years of scientific research and experimentation, they came to know him as Elden. Fast forward some time, and Elden established a Coalition made of those descended directly from his nacre exchange. Five distinct children, as he came to know them: Blight, Curae, Disce, Vinco, and Umbra. While Elden carried on in his research to discover the outsider’s origins, he allowed the Coalition to lead with little guidance.
They dispensed nacres as needed until children were born bearing their own nacres. As the tie to Elden stretched thinner, generations of children bore fewer and fewer abilities. The Coalition deemed this acceptable. After all, not every creature required wings or higher intelligence. Leave that to the higher castes.
Was elevation possible? Yes, of course.
Through transfer of blood with a higher being gifted to the lower. Thus, the warrior caste was born and flourished. In the billions of children born on the planet, eighty percent had upgraded into soldiers from the servant caste. A vast army.
So vast it drew the attention of the outsiders Elden was desperately seeking. They observed. Another botched experiment. Too ferocious. Too warmongering of a carnivorous race with a taste for Tritan.
This is where Rayne checked out because she wanted to look Primary Rem in the eyes as he connected the dots for her. He noticed her break from the Cascading Light. She fumed at him as he gave her eye contact.
Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it.
Primary Rem said, “The horde grew too menacing and too capable.” Rayne shook her head as she begged him not to say it. Yet, he continued, “We resorted to unspeakable measures.”
Rayne said, “Li. You triggered the red giant.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks as Primary Rem nodded in confirmation. Her best friends beside her got the full visual.
Rayne said, “Xelan never mentioned this.”
Primary Rem shook his head. “The Icari must never know.”
Rayne opened her mouth to curse, to argue, or to scream. This was not the time. She stared once again into Cascading Light to return to the images in her head bestowed by a nacre which had yet to benefit her.
Elden asked the Coalition to contribute their combined nacres to establish a shield with him. They agreed and met him in a cranberry-swept meadow right as the star bloomed into red. He flew into the sky, baring his soul. Rayne sobbed as Li expanded and swallowed the planet, condemning it to an eternity of starless skies and ashen rain.
But even as Rayne mourned Elden’s sacrifice, and the sacrifice of his people, something didn’t sit right. Billions died. So many were wiped out. The surface was reduced to charred nothing.
What had gone wrong?
Umbra survived.
From a cave beyond the plain, Umbra emerged. By abandoning the Coalition and Elden to their fates, he’d reduced the effectiveness of the shield. Although his clothes were singed, the wounds from the star had already been repaired. As the last remaining member of the Coalition, he declared himself the ultimate survivor and the first King of Cinder.
Palaces were built. Entire ways of existence were indoctrinated. But not pleasant ones. No, Umbra was a terrible lord. Greedy, selfish, gross. He unioned with Elden’s daughter—a child bride—and established his lineage, immediately. Out of the ashes of Elden’s greatest deed rose Nox.
How disappointed Elden must be.
{Enki | July 2006}
Xelan had told Rayne the rest of the story two days ago, and she refused to watch it any further. As the images faded and spilled down the waterfall, she pieced a few additional things together.
Umbra’s caste system was comprised of Royals, Warriors, and Servants. To control the system, the King granted a blood exchange to those worthy of an upgrade. Fealty sworn and signed in blood. Servants must not possess much intelligence, keeping them docile. Warriors were too indebted to their leader for rebellion.
Was there another benefit? Blood control? Nox’s blood—
No.
Rayne doubted Nox had given blood directly to anyone. Korac’s nanites must infect more than half their population for wings alone. Surely with some insurance—
“Rayne!” Sagan shouted, as if she’d already called her name several times before.
Rayne snapped around to her best friend, who pointed at Rem. When she gave him her undivided attention once more, he bowed his head to her. “As the inheritors to our poor choices, we beg your forgiveness. We fear the Icari. We fear their appetite for Tritan flesh. There are so few of us left.”
Rayne asked, “How will you make it up to us? To Cinder?”
She caught Tameka grinning at her boldness—demanding a Tritan compensate for a wrong they’d committed.
Primary Rem inclined his head and answered, “Aid from the entire Vast Collective. King Nox is a threat to us all. We will not permit the destruction of one more planet to add to our mistakes. Elden deserved a chance to prove his intentions. We mourn our decision.”
Rayne said, “We accept your aid, Primary Rem. I do have one more question.”
“Please. Ask.”
“What was the Tritan doing on Cinder in the first place?”
Primary Rem looked thoughtful before saying, “Quet was a leader far older than I. He had free rein of his time. Cinder was his ward. We are unsure to this day why he visited a World One planet without an escort. It proved fatal.”
Tameka asked, “What do you mean ‘his ward?’”
Rem explained, “All the populated planets originated with us.” Rayne frowned at this as he continued, “We created them.”
Kyle held out his hands. “Whoa, whoa… whoa. Back up. You what?”
“We seed the planets once they’re formed. All the planets in the Vast Collective started with Tritan intervention.” The more the Tritan went on, the more bizarre the story became.
Sagan asked, “Why?”
Primary Rem explained, “Creating life is our supreme objective. From it, we can press the Probability Matrix into new visions of living worlds. One day, we hope to replicate the making of ourselves.”
Tameka pressed this time, “Why?”
Primary Rem shook his head. “Perhaps another time.” The dismissal festered in Rayne’s mind. He went on, “Cinder fell under the oldest Primary’s jurisdiction. It’s not uncommon to visit, but it is uncommon to do so without an escort. He did not make it back to the conduit for his escape. Now Cinder is my responsibility.”
Rayne stood and swiped a hand down her slacks. “We can’t clean up your mess, but we can try to save what’s left of Cinder. For Elden.”
The other three stood and peered at Primary Rem.
He bowed his head at Rayne.
With a yip, she clutched Sagan when the glass lowered as quickly as it had risen. Fatigued, injured, and maybe hangry, Rayne called out, “It’s been nice meeting you, Remmy.” She stepped away from the Tritan and waved for the others to follow.
In a voice heavy with sorrow, Primary Rem called one last time, “Progeny, will you forgive us?”
Kyle turned and gave Rayne stony eyes. Sagan stared at the marble tiles. Tameka placed her hands on her hips and peered at Rayne with bitter shards of stained glass in her gaze.
The General faced the Primary and thought hard before answering. “It’s not our place to forgive you. It’s Cinder’s. With that said, I hope there may still be time to set it right.”
Rayne walked away, suspecting Cinder might prove safer for the Progeny than Enki.