Chapter 11

Princess B'Vian /// Last Stop Reception Hall

B’Vian hoped that this was all some strange hallucination, that none of this was real, that she was about to be awoken by Iiree in her quarters and told the days agenda. Sadly despite how much she pleaded with whatever dark powers seemed to teeter this nightmare onward seemed vested in continuing the charade

Iiree was in shambles, the minister seemed to have almost deflated in on himself, and the primus, she wasn't sure under the armor but he seemed to barely be holding on

The lower floors of the Last Stop had been put under lockdown while security and legal teams swarmed across seemingly under the guidance of the fixer.

“So not only do you go through Chemo, but then you go and get yourself SHOT… 3 TIMES, then for a mystery only the divine can solve you get thrown through the walls, hit with a psychic sucker punch, ALL IN THE SAME DAY!!!”

“Shit doc your acting like i did this all on purpose”

“No i know you arent thats the fucked part, because funny enough their are funner and faster ways to kill oneself”

B’Vian thought back to the moments after the creature rose to a forced position after being thrown through the wall. His “false bravado” as the fixer put it had only lasted for a heartbeat before the creature collapsed under his own pain. Immediately afterwards the fixer Omar started yelling in the humans grotesque tongue, relinquishing his low common and seeming to give orders to someone else nearby.

Within the span of breaths the entire lower floor was put on lockdown as human security swarmed out from seemingly nowhere, humans, lowborn, and highborn alike where cordoned off with shouts of “All Stopped” being shouted across the atrium. Each response followed by another deafening shout. A few moments after the shouting started too cease a new noise bellowed up from the voices of all the cordoned individuals who came here to do business. Shouts of some of the most derogatory and offensive verbage was thrown with the aggressiveness reserved for a mortal enemy. While the security teams managed the physical spacing the wait staff which adorned the first floor spread out and began assessing the now pickled clients. These humans who seemed to be simple wait staff offered assistance or comfort in the face of this malice to the quarantined individuals, taking their hurled abuse with smiles flashing white sharp teeth.

Her own detail had collapsed back into the room and took up defensive positions, culling her off on their own without human assistance. None of the wait staff dared approach the number of armed escorts now on high alert, for that she was at least grateful they seemed to have that were withall. It did not seem to stop the security teams from moving in adjacent to her company however. The only two humans to even approach the lines of her guard were the Fixer who attempted to communicate twice and the healer that rushed downstairs.

B’Vian took a breath attempting to slow her brain as she processed what had happened. She barely registered all this in the moment but thinking back now in the calming moments it struck her how quick this all occurred as soon as the Fixer Omar began shouting, as though these humans expected something like this to occur. Turning her sensory stalk back to the “doc” who was treating the monster, she could tell he was human but also that he was different, but she couldn't place it.

Her thoughts continued to race only to be stopped dead by an ever growing doubt that permeated her consciousness. This creeping cloud of doubt that consumed and obfuscated her train of thought, “why?” over and over again. It was all she could do at this point continuing to ask WHY this all was happening why she came to the humans why she felt so empty, why why why. To every thought it spread and consumed all in its path. She could fell herself being lost in the weight of the question that seemed to have no answers. But then like a great light Iiree bless her intuition, asked a simple pointed question, the type only friends who truly trust one another can ask. And as her presence rocked through B’Vians psyche she was able to focus, too focus on her confessor, and advisor.

My lady maybe its time for us to give up on this endeavor, and try an official route? Iiree asked

“You may be right, this all feels like too much,” B’vian said, letting herself drift down beside her maiden.

“You are the heir apparent, if we informed the council surely they would help, and if not you could always use your father as way to gardner their support?”

“I dont want to think about the council right now either Iiree, the problems with going to them are the same as they were when we came up with this idea, please just talk to me about anything else besides THIS.”

“Hmm, alright…” the pause felt like it lasted forever. “ Your Wrath i believe has formed *intentions* towards you” Iiree said with a sly upbeat in her tone whispering so that only B’vian could hear.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“Wait WHAT?” B’Vian said, pulling herself up with a shock running through her system.

“Oh yes, he was asking a tender friend of mine about what shade of pearl would work with your auras complexions” Iiree chuffed.

“He said ME?” B’vian couldn't believe what she was hearing, her dilemma momentarily lost in the thoughts of more innocent things.

“Not you exactly, but lets just say my tender friend didn't need to ask many questions to figure it was for you. He had to ask about resilience because of Djikit warping, and i know of only one being that could unintentionally warp a pearl.” Iiree said her tone betraying that she was trying to decode B’vians standing on this.

“Well… he is a highborn now, and his genes are those of a war hero.” B’vian mused.

“Oh just a marriage of convenience and reproduction then” Iiree whispered the mirth leaking off of her every word.

“Well no, he is quite charming… and…” B’Vian trailed off she had never been good at expressing a vulnerability and this type was uniquely poised to cause her discomfort.

Iiree seemed to lighten up with the moment of softness from her lady and friend. A laugh escaped though her vibrating through the air. The heads of two of the guards twitched in their direction and Iiree tried to stifle her chuckle.

“OW what the fuck” came from the cornered off office where he doctor was treating the creature

In a flash reality returned, and B’Vian and Iiree’s momentary respite ended.

“Im not sure if i should but i admire that creature's resilience” whispered Iiree her sensory stalk leaning and shifting slightly to observe the beast.

“Its hard to argue with it, with what were seeing and what the fixer said it made sound like a bravataakien would have a hard time killing that thing…” the disdain dripping from her words.

“Maybe he’s right for the job then, i mean if even the primus has trouble killing him… not to mention being able to inflict and injury as well… how many could make that claim.”

“You felt it too Iiree, that abyss, ive never experienced anything like that. I dont even think the Monks of the high temple have ever thought such a thing was possible, and they have tried with all the doomsaying they do.”

“I think most would drop dead of fright” Iiree said with some mild concern

The “doc” as he kept being referred to hurried out form behind his “triage” and dashed across the room, grabbing a bottle of some type of brownish fluid before running back.

Soiree’s Djikit shifted to a tense color, B’vian knew what this was her friend was about to suggest something she knew, she wasnt going to like. “If their isnt any other option maybe adjudication could work, at least you could negotiate a good life afterwards?”

Her word sunk into B’vians mind like a rock into water, she understood Iiree meant well but she also felt… conflicted. Since she birthed with her siblings she had moved forward under the guise of it was her role to lead and rule, to take up her fathers mantle to embrace the unity as it was and give it purpose. That all felt so impossible sitting here now. Her mind then followed up with that accursed question again why? Why not abjucate the throne.. She realized she didnt have an immediate answer.

She sat quietly analyzing this question weighing its merits, agains the cost. She remembered every assassin, every lesson, every attempt to court her favor. The pain of betrayl from family and friends, and the neglectful hate of her father, his titanic frame still standing tall in her mind. She remembers hating the thought of having to rule, of having to exist in this world forever. With the ever mounting list of cons, she finally followed the thread all the way to the end. Why do this then? It all led to that question but that single thought led to another more insidious question. What would I do instead?

She realized that regardless of how she had been raised, or maybe because of it, she wanted the throne, she wanted to try at least. Her entire life she had to march forward, her entire life she had faced down friend and foe alike. She realized in this moment of silent contemplation that if she didnt have the throne what did she have. She realized the poisonous trap that had been laid long before she was born, and most importantly she realized her pride wouldn't let her abdicate, she wanted this, she needed this.

“Even if i wanted to Iiree, i cant.

The primus’s suit let out a sound of compressed gasses slipping through ruptures as the massive guardian collapsed to the ground. “Ah, shit get a crash cart, and bring the Jellyfish kit” shouted the *doctor* as he ran over to treat the primus. Sliding to his knees and crashing into the primus’s form, the Doc tried helping the massive golden knight down gently. It failed as the primus Collapsed, crashing hard into the marble stone beneath him. The other guards moved to pull the doctor off as hes screaming at them to let him save the primus’s life. The Primus was silent his blood leaking through the holes in his suit by the buckets. In this moment B’vian took a breath and shouted to her guards.

“Let him through, were not losing the Primus. Not if i can help it.”

The company of watchers looked at B’vian than at the Sgt. his hand motion seemed to resign to her authority as the “doc” moved back towards the primus, shoving their appendages into the cavity created by the rocket and began looking around.

“Fuck, this guys got shrapnel all through his Qwoo, wheres that crash cart!” shouted the healer.

“Here! Here!” shouted two blue clothed humans bringing in a large metal “tray of some kind it was neon orange and yellow, with a large bag of some kind atop it.

Pulling instruments out the healer began doing something inside the Primus’s exposed form. Sliding metallic instruments around different tubular shapes covered int he primus’s blood as he called to the two that brought the cart.

“Hes got a hole in the claw go patch that up dont want him bleeding out before i finish, you (turning to the other human) help me and hold this clamp, yea like that.” the healers bagan moving as if driven by instinct. Tearing into the primus like predators.

B’vian hoped she hadnt made a mistake in trusting these humans, but more than that she hoped the primus would survive.