Driving through a region north of Xanadu City, a lone heavily armored vehicle zipped over a simple, two-lane road. Its occupants were not interested in arriving at one of the dozens of super-advanced cities that dotted the Titanian landscape, each dozens of leagues away from each other. In fact, cities on Titan were relatively few and far between. The devastating civil wars had reduced their numbers, and they still had not recovered.
However, the travelers did not intend to stop in the middle of the vast, isolating landscape. No, they were indeed headed for a building, a sole gold-and-white giant set against a hazy, yellowish sky and grey, rocky ground. Its structure was comprised of a dome fixed into the ground, although two-thirds of it jutted up from it. A tall tower stretched from the centre, fitted with evenly spaced stained-glass windows, reaching a hundred yards into the sky and was topped off with a gold-colored spire. The only fixtures that interrupted the dome’s perfect roundness were a pair of massive double-doors that were twice the height and arm span of an average Titanian.
“My brother greatly disliked travelling in convoys with armed men and women,” General Karesti said from the vehicle’s back seat, her legs crossed and hands in her lap. “I’m starting to think he might’ve had a point. Isn’t this so peaceful?”
“I suppose so, General.”
“An event as grand as the Shargara Conference… Maedoc, do you know why I’ve decided to go to the Temple before leaving?”
“Why?” the young adjutant asked.
“Because,” she said. “I’m afraid.”
Maedoc Antelius tried not to raise a brow as the most respected and revered soldier of the Titanian Empire admitted her fear. Throughout the multiple dynasties of Karesti rule, the Titanians had established themselves as a lionhearted, callous society. Only the strongest were meant to prevail.
“You’re afraid, General?” he asked.
“The legacy of the conference will entail a new era of prosperity for our people,” she said. “But, it may not be according to Pizna’s desires. That is why I must pray and receive the blessings of the Matriarch so that our wishes align.”
“What does Pizna desire, anyway?”
Rhona smirked as her destination became larger and larger, approaching the isolated temple.
“What a mother wishes for her children.” she answered rhetorically.
Disembarking the vehicle, they pushed open the enormous doors together with ease. In the dimly lit antechamber, which was an area of space just as wide as and slightly raller than the doors cordoned off by an arch that was as high as the doors and about 30 yards long, a man was waiting for them, donning the same uniforms as them. He offered his salute to the General and her adjutant, before they returned the gesture.
“General, you took quite a while to arrive,” Lieutenant General Salomon said. “The priests are growing displeased.”
“I do apologise, Major General,” she said. “I was packing up my belongings. I’m planning to go straight to Terra after the service.”
“I see, thinking ahead as per usual,” Salomon noted, before turning to Maedoc. “Ah, pleasure to see you here too, Major Antelius.”
“I am actually Lieutenant Colonel, now, Sir.” Maedoc corrected him.
Fabian peered at the insignia on Maedoc’s chest and chuckled.
“Ah, do forgive me, Lieutenant Colonel. So few promotions happen these days, it’s easy to forget. Congratulations on your new rank.”
“Thank you, sir!” Maedoc accepted graciously.
“Obviously I’d have him promoted,” Rhona rolled her eyes. “Would I want a major at my side in most of my waking hours?”
“Of course not.” Fabian said, smiling humbly.
“I must get going,” Rhona said. “Lieutenant Colonel, wait for me here. Lieutenant General, return to the military headquarters. I’d like you to start your caretaking duties as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” the two men said, saluting their superior. Fabian left the temple, while Maedoc watched as his boss walked out of the antechamber, her form disappearing as she left into the dark hall.
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After descending a short set of stairs of six steps, she found herself in a square-shaped area that was cordoned off from the rest of the hall by a short wall about waist-high. Two floating Utrium lanterns seemed to approach her from her left and right, or so it appeared. When they got within about three yards of her, it was easy to see that they were being held in the hands of two Temple priests. They were clad in gold robes that covered their entire bodies except for their hands and heads and wore tall mitres on their scalps. They each looked disappointed with the General, even though she was the most powerful person on the planet. The most powerful person – but not the most powerful group.
“Princess Rhona, you make Matriarch Pizna upset.” one of them hissed.
“Your tardiness is disesteemed,” the second one complained. “You ought to honour your commitments, especially when it comes to consulting a relic.”
“Forgive me. I was doing last-minute preparations for the trip so—
“Just go,” the first one said. “After you put this on.”
A third priest arrived that moment, holding a glowing white dress that covered the length of a wearer’s arms to the wrists that shined brilliantly in contrast to the unilluminated room and flowed down to the ankles. If it was a touch brighter, it would’ve been blinding. The garment itself was a torch which would lead her way. The priests departed, and she was left alone.
After removing all of her clothes, she donned the dress and put her military uniform on top of the wall. She stepped over it, entering the knee-high pool of liquid methane that filled the entire hall, excluding the antechamber and the walled-off area in front of it. The warm liquid made her feel more awake as the skin of her ankles and feet were submerged in it. Only women in identical glowing white dresses or men in similar robes could enter the area—not even a hairband was permitted. She quickly took it off and dropped it on top of her clothing, allowing her hair to flow downwards to her back.
Wading through the water, she could see the inside segment of the tower as it extended up from the middle of the temple. She made calm strides forwards until she found herself in front of the tower. The tower was about the same in diameter as a typical adult Titanian’s arm span in length. A niche in it revealed that it was hollow, with the windows from above allowing in a miniscule amount of natural light from the sun millions of miles away. Stepping into the niche, a cylindrical podium emerged from the liquid-covered floor until it reached about waist height. On the top of the podium encased in glass was white strand of hair, about as long as the typical Titanian was tall, coiled up. It was a relic belonging to an ancient past.
Rhona lowered herself to her knees and put her hands on the glass case, resting her forehead on the podium.
“Great Pizna,” she began speaking. “I, Rhona Karesti, one of your many children have come to visit you,”
She paused as if to allow the being whose artifact was before her to listen.
“Great Pizna, our people have been struggling. The consequences of the demise of the Solich family caused by my grandfather, your child Emperor Haldor, run deep. I will secure land on Terra to meet the growing needs of our rebounding population,”
She stopped again. She was far too young to have remembered the late Emperor, but she saw what he had caused in his strive to end his rival bloodline. Her father Henrik only exacerbated this destruction, a means to no end but his own satisfaction. Only her brother had attempted to tie the loose ends of the Karesti’s before him, but they were forced to be put on pause. Everything she did was to restore him to his former glory. Indeed, what she had planned was a reversal of her mistake.
“Your desires will not align with my actions. Please, let there be overlap. For I do not wish to be of your disobedient children,”
Another pause, but her thoughts were somewhere else. She recounted the numerous times she had visited the Great Temple of Pizna in years past. The first time was at her mother’s funeral, when she was six years old. Then came her visit of gratitude when she joined the military at age 16. Next came her father’s funeral when was seventeen, then at Emperor Halsten’s coronation weeks later. A year after that, she was requested to escort Halsten and Kallista Laine in a ceremony of gratitude, learning of the conception of their son. That same son—her nephew, that she wanted dead. A boy she had never even met.
“Allow me to see my elder brother’s face again, speaking and smiling. Let him rule again the Empire he so greatly wanted to correct,”
Hot tears poured down her cheeks as she remembered her childhood. How disgustingly cruel her father was to her and Halsten, and even their mother Onora who was not only his consort but also a distant female-line Karesti cousin. But no one had it as worse as the bastard, half-Terran middle child of a brother.
“Both of them,” she corrected. “I want to see both of them,”
But she knew what seeing Gareth would’ve brought about. So, she asked her ancestor for one more thing.
“Give me strength. Give me that extra bit of power that I so need.”
Moments later, a tingling sensation ran across her upper back. It grew more and more quickly, until it began to hurt. The pain pulsed across her shoulder blades, throbbing rapidly. She curled her hands into fists, pressing them hard into the solid podium they rested on, creating dents on it. She bit her lip to avoid screaming. The agony was sudden and powerful—she hadn’t experienced anything so painful since her early training as a private at Heimat Academy. Her lips, just as durable as the rest of her skin, tasted of iron and felt wet as her teeth dug into the lower lips sharply. And then, as quickly as the pain had erupted, it stopped. She sat up straight and wiped the blood from her chin and mouth with one palm, and her wet eyes with the other. She peered down at the red smear on her hand—she knew she wasn’t untouchable. She had just damaged herself. But at least she knew that she had become stronger.
“Thank you for your gift, Great Pizna. I shall not waste it.” she said, rising to her feet once more.