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Barnak
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Chapter Seventeen: Soliloquy of the Fallen – Part Three
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Beneath the planet's surface, Naro City, Yul Clan Assembly Hall
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Realm of Spirits
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“The chief forbid it, Dekarn.” Yuri warns, folding his arms, the Maka from his runes flares against the darkness as he looks at Dekarn.
“I know what the chief said, but they will have little value once the changing begins, they are already barely on the edge.” Dekarn says, pointing to the shorter red-haired Ulima brother “This one has only made himself worse trying to help the other. Soon both will be worthless.”
“Please, I will do anything, help my brother, he is strong and a hard worker, he will not disappoint you.” The shorter brother says, then with more desperation in his voice he adds “Send me to the mines, I will get him what he needs.”
Dekarn sneers down at him.
“Send you to die in the mines, then you will be truly worthless. Selling you would benefit the Clan more.”
Nekam arrives now, with the Ulima Kalon and Arrum behind him.
“They are not to be sold,” Nekam says, an exchange of glances between him and Dekarn tell me there is tension between them about this decision.
“My chief, their value…” Dekarn begins.
“They are not to be sold.” Nekam repeats, this time giving Dekarn a stern look.
Dekarn nods to him, taking a step back. He may try to test the boundaries over the next few months, Nekam must remain firm, lest the other chiefs might not respect his decisions. It is difficult when one becomes Clan chief, many will seek to gain advantage, some may even betray. It took me two seasons to fully secure everyone’s loyalty… though, that did not last forever. I can only hope Nekam will improve upon where I have failed.
The eyes of the shorter brother ignite as relief washes over him, tears falling freely as he bows his head to the floor.
“Thank you, my chief.” The shorter brother says, pressing his face deeper into the floor “I will never forget this. We will not disappoint you.”
Dekarn gives Nekam a look, still seeking explanation. He will need to be careful with this one.
“Their lives have been traded,” Nekam explains.
“By who?” Yuri asks him, then looking behind him towards Kalon and Arrum he finishes with “By them?”
Nekam nods, looking down at the two brothers who are close to the edge of the changing. Netheric Maka swims upon them, dancing back and forth as tendrils of darkness ebb into them, crawling beneath the skin.
“What could they possibly offer?” Dekarn protests, seeing the look in Nekam’s eyes he finishes with “My chief.”
Nekam does not address Dekarn, instead he looks down at the two brothers, the taller one barely conscious, fading in and out, muttering to himself, fever ripe on his brow.
“Kalon and Arrum have given up their own standing in the Clan, remaining Ulima so that you might live.” Nekam says to the brothers, then with a stern look “Do not dishonor their sacrifice by dying.”
They are who they traded for? To save their enemies? Looking around the room, I see no other Etherium shards. I understand now why Nekam demanded such a price to exchange it. It is the last of his stores. He should not give it. He should keep it or use it on those close to him that may need it. Yet, making fighters such as them beholden to him again. Perhaps that is a price that even I would have paid.
Nekam motions for Arrum to go now with the Etherium shard. Kalon stands near, but for some reason does not try to touch the shard to help guide the Maka into them. Perhaps he fears the others will see what I see, that he is runeless. It is strange though, Nekam must know this. Yet he keeps the cursed Ulima still. Why? Why still have they given their freedom for their enemies? I have never known anyone to do such a thing. If they were father and son, or family maybe I could see it, but there is no connection… is this compassion? Ulima should not have such a thing, it is instilled in them that only death finds the compassionate. Most never survive, always expected to plunge into danger. They are always the first to be discarded.
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Nekam turns now, moving towards the Clan chief’s private quarters. Yuri follows close behind, matching his stride. Following him now, I move behind them. Looking out at the glimmers of light, those who used to call me chief now look at Nekam with wary deference. He must prove himself soon, or he will fall and so too will they all.
When he reaches the quarters, his hand hesitates as he holds my old Clan chief’s talisman, staring at the grooves in it, the blood that coats it and his hands dances in his grey eyes.
“Do not distrurb me unless it is important.” Nekam says, opening the door.
“Understood, my chief.” Yuri says.
The door slides closed after Nekam and I enter. He takes a moment of pause looking about the room. His eyes catching a bucket of melting ice on the table across from the fur covered seats. He moves to it, pushing his hands into it. Scrubbing slowly at first, then quicker as he sees it does not come off easily. Moving now towards the wall, he tries to grab a towel, but his movements stop as he sees something on the wall’s shelf. Something that sits with other trophies of fond memories from my time as Clan chief. He grabs it, his hands shaking as he does, as though some kind of tension is breaking in him.
His knees fall to the ground as his head hangs low, in his hand he holds something I recognize. A large tooth from a Shakal beast, its significance tears at my heart. He carved it for me, after we felled it together. More than ten years ago now. So much has changed. Regret swirls in me, thinking back on the years. Trying to recall when it all began to change. His hands shake as he pulls it closer to his chest, bioluminescence swirling in his eyes, his breath becoming uneven as he whispers.
“I am sorry, father.” Nekam says, tears striking the ground as he begins to weep, pulling at his hair in pain now “I swear to you, I will honor your will, I will take them beyond the city’s center. They will thrive.”
My heart twists and turns, there is so much mixing of emotions in me. I have never seen him like this, he is always calm and never shows his emotions. His head lowers as he raises his hands, palms facing upwards, as is our custom for praying.
“Hempki, hear my prayer. Bless those that have been slain this day, bless…” his voice catches in his throat as the words break from sadness’s embrace “bless the father that took me in, the one that raised me up when I had nothing, the one who freed my mother from bondage…”
His eyes drip as he pounds his head softly against the floor, his runes flicker and twist with the pain inside him.
“Bless the one whose blood stains my hands…” Nekam says, weeping fully now “Do not let Keno wander, I beg you, embrace him as he embraced me before I…”
Nekam pounds his head harder now as the weeping intensifies. My hand betrays me as I find it resting on his shoulder. Though he cannot know that I am here, the years that I cared for him as a son come rushing back. I did not realize how difficult this must have been for him. I had thought he hated Keno. When they were younger, they were inseparable, there was scarcely a time that they were apart. I don’t remember when it changed. Healthy rivalry devolved into bitterness when Keno could no longer best Nekam. Instead of celebrating his achievements, he grew to resent him. Another of my failings, I should have reconciled them before it became what it was.
“Hempki, I give you all that I am, trading my place in the afterlife, doomed to toil in the hells, if you would but grant them mercy.” Nekam says, pressing his forehead firmly into the stone “Please, I beg of you, do not let any of those who died this day wander.”
A knocking at the door calls his attention. His eyes close as he takes in a deep breath, rising to his feet, wiping the tears from his eyes. He places the carved tooth back delicately, his jaw tensing as he pulls back his long black hair into a tidy knot once more. The calm expression I have seen from him for years comes back to his face. Unlocking the door, he opens it slowly.
“What news?” Nekam asks.
“The Dorasi Clan has sent a runner, my chief.” Yuri says.
Nekam does not turn to face him, his eyes are still bloodshot, the glow having only just left them.
“I will meet with them soon.” Nekam says with a sigh.
The Dorasi Clan, one of our neighboring Clans, honorable, but ill mannered. If they have sent a runner, it is because they wish to congratulate and also gauge the Clan’s strength. They smell blood in the air, they will search for the wounds now. Taking from our Clan whatever tribes do not believe in Nekam. I can only hope that my blooded tribes do not leave, if they do, the Clan will surely fall or be made a vassal of an inner Clan. Such a fate would make my failings even deeper.
Nekam waves Yuri out, though he does not shut the door, his eyes close as he begins to meditate, his runes shimmer as he finds the calm.
Leaving him and moving into the Clan’s main chamber now, I head toward the Ulima brothers, curiosity in me as to their fate. Wondering if the Maka given from Keno and I was used in vain.
Coming upon them now, I see Arrum’s brow is thick with sweat. Dekarn stands over him, watching with a distasteful look on his face. I never liked Dekarn, he was given his position by his father, always looking down on Ulima, never having been one himself. Pondering on it now, I realize that is like my children. Perhaps the lack of struggle is what made them ineffective leaders, perhaps being the lowest caste helps one find perspective that cannot be inherited. My mind swims with thoughts, trying to understand my failings and how I could have done better. It is the only way to keep my mind from the despair of my loss.
As I watch the red runic lines upon the brothers slowly filling with blue, something strange stirs where my heart used to be. The thought of Keno’s and my Maka being used to save those whom we wronged and discarded; it stirs something greater in me. What is this feeling? I look down and see that my spirit glows and pulses, why though?
Something else is strange. The darkness around the Ulima Kalon is swelling and it ripples as he looks down at the blue growing more steadily and filling their runes. The darkness is resonating again, even though he does not speak. Then, from the darkness emerges something inside of him now, barely a speckle of light that cuts at the darkness. Coming from his chest. I move closer to it with my hand, somehow, I am drawn to this tiny light that defies the darkness, but why? What is it? As I get closer, the feelings of despair begin to wash from me. Warmth flows into me the closer I get. When the finger of my spirit reaches it…