As Thane rounded the final corner to Harir’s quarters he stared right into the toothed barrels of two ornate hand-magnas, the weapons looming in front of him like the maws of some alien predator. He strode forwards purposefully, giving the sentinels the chance to recognize him. The moment they did, the guards lowered their weapons again as soon as they had raised them, hiding the devastating tools of destruction under their thick cloaks of office. They were on edge, and that was a bad sign.
When their Captain-Emissary approached, Harir’s personal guardians rapped their hands on their foreheads and then their chests in quick succession, as was the Runoran traditional salute. Thane waited for them to finish, then returned a salute of his own. All three relaxed their posture as one afterwards.
The warriors, both decked out in black Force Projection armor nearly three meters in height, towered over Thane. The weapons they wielded were as large as a grown man, and they carried flag-sized banners covered in Harir’s sigils around their shoulders, hiding the bulk of their armor with a cloak-like cape. Their helmets were equally intimidating, presenting the likeness of a lion with a Runoran face caught between their jaws, sporting a bright red plume to signify the manes. They were as imposing as they were lethal, their skill and dedication of such quality that they could ensure the Oracle’s safety in any environment, but this was Harir’s own territory. The fact that they were stationed at all spoke of an irregularity. Thane did not like irregularities.
“I require an audience with the Lord-Oracle.” He spoke plainly, clasping his hands behind his back. As leader of the Tidebreaker order, Thane rarely required permission to do anything. He outranked these guardians, and in normal circumstances he could have ordered them to stand aside. If they stood here under Harir’s direct orders, however, they had the authority to deny everyone as they deemed necessary. Even him. Even other Oracles, if the situation arose.
“The Lord-Oracle has chosen to withdraw for an indefinite period of time.” One of the armored giants in front of him rumbled, their voice distorted with the booming of helmet speakers. Had it not been for the likeness of the owner’s face, etched into their helmet, Thane would not have been able to guess who stood in front of him.
“Until further notice, Lord Harir shall be disturbed under no circumstances.”
“Did he leave any additional messages or instructions?” Thane asked with the slightest hints of anxiety, glad for once that his expression was hidden by the helmet he could not remove.
“One message was left to you in particular, Captain-Emissary.” The other guardian spoke. “Lord Harir said that you would know what to do. As you have already taken the first step.”
Thane nodded thoughtfully. He had half-expected something like this. Or maybe that was giving himself too much credit; He had known that this was a possibility.
“Very well.” He said eventually, looking back up to the guardians blocking his path. “I shall leave you to your duties. Please, do let me know when our master reemerges.”
“Naturally, Captain-Emissary.” The first guardian spoke again, giving him a solemn nod. They understood the situation he was in all too well.
With that, Thane made a brisk turn and retraced his steps back to the central flight of stairs that led directly to Harir’s dwellings. He made for his personal quarters only two minutes away, yet he was so lost in thought that he nearly walked right past the door. Once inside, he dispensed himself a bottle of caffeinated water from the wall panel next to the door and put it straight to his mouth, taking a large, invigorating swig.
It was one aspect of his armor he didn’t fully understand: Every surface, including his helmet, was hermetically sealed from the outside world. The panels it was made up from were all separate parts, able to move freely. They were constantly in motion and slid across his body in seemingly random and haphazard patterns, yet they also came together seamlessly. Thane was able to manipulate the movement of these panels to a degree, using them to form weapons and tools as he needed them. But no matter what he did, the relic never allowed even the most miniscule of gaps to form in its outer plating. His skin would never feel unfiltered air or taste genuine rays of sunlight again. When he donned the relic, many millennia ago, he’d known he would never be able to take it off again.
Despite that, the armor breathed as freely as even the finest linens and let certain objects like food or drink pass through unobstructed. The advanced materials in his helmet jittered for a fraction of a second as he brought the bottle up to his mouth, debating what to do with the foreign object trying to gain access. Then, inexplicably, the glass phased through his helmet as if it weren’t there. Thane shuddered as he put the bottle to his lips a second time and took another powerful gulp of the refreshing water,
His suit was designed to be comfortable to wear. It had to be, otherwise he’d have gone insane centuries ago. As such, it closely mimicked sensory functions, allowing him to sense texture, heat, cold, and smell through the supersolid materials he was covered in.
With how light and convenient the relic was, Thane sometimes forgot that he was fully isolated from the rest of the universe. The suit of armor was his weapon, his tool, his protection. It was also his prison until the day he died. When that day finally came, the relic would become his tomb.
Thane pushed the grim prospect aside. He had come to terms with it long ago.
After he finished the bottle, he pressed the glass into the wall panel and filled it up again, this time electing to forgo the dose of caffeïne.
The simulated sense of touch his armor gave him was nearly impossible to distinguish from the real thing, but Thane had had a lot of practice in telling the two apart. These days he saw the difference as night and day, ultimately landing on the conclusion that the authentic experience was better.
So he drank the second bottle, if only for his lips to experience direct contact with an object other than his suit of armor. He could just suck on the empty bottle to get that effect, or endlessly nibble from a piece of food, but that felt undignified. Not suited to someone of his station.
With the bottle again finished and his needs satisfied, Thane reached a decision. He walked to the center of his chambers and dimmed his ambient lighting before turning to the holoprojector which dominated one of the side walls.
“Patch me through to the bridge.” He demanded. Then realized he still held the empty water bottle in his hand. He placed it on the ground and nudged it away with his foot, hoping that it wouldn’t show up on the other side of the line.
His request was accepted after a moment and the blue beams of light coalesced into the shape of a face, growing progressively more detailed and colorful over the course of a few seconds.
Before the projection had gained full definition, Thane realized this was not the person he had wanted to speak to. The mocha-hued skin and well-trimmed, graying mustache he was greeted with belonged to the ship’s second mate, not the one person other than Harir and Thane authorized to access the encrypted reading.
“Lord Equerry, how may I be of service?” The face asked, flashing Thane an uncertain smile. The expression was only exaggerated by the upscaled nature of the hologram.
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“Second mate Yahet.” Thane nodded back respectfully. “I wish to speak to the Grand Commander. Is she not present on the command deck?”
“Lord Miran is currently in the middle of her sleep cycle.” The Officer of the Watch stated, a look of confusion crawling onto his face. “Surely, you were aware of that?” His eyes asked the question his mouth did not. Thane fought the urge to let out a sigh of frustration.
“You have seen the Alpha-level alert?” Thane asked the officer. Yahet’s expression only grew more confused for a second, then his eyes widened as realization dawned on him.
“I– I did see it, my lord.” The second mate said sheepishly.
“And you are aware that alerts of level Gamma and above are supposed to be passed on to the Grand Commander immediately?” Thane asked with a patience that surprised even himself.
“I am, my lord.”
“Excellent. Then why is Lord Miran still asleep?”
Yahet’s eyes flicked from side to side for a moment as he undoubtedly pulled up the system alert he’d received about half an hour ago. He read the message again, then swallowed and looked Thane straight in the eyes.
“I was under the impression that this was a false alert, my lord. Therefore I chose not to wake the Grand Commander.”
Thane nodded. He liked Yahet. Not many men he had not trained himself could have dared to admit their mistake to him so plainly. He respected the man for it, even if his judgment had been flawed.
Then again, this was the first alpha-level alert the Exemplar had seen in a century and a half. The ship had been barely a decade out of the yards at that point. Thane felt a twinge of sympathy. It was not fully Yahet’s fault. These alerts were not sufficiently drilled for, and the Grand Commander should have been woken by the alert irrespective of whether or not the bridge decided to pass it on to her.
“Very well." He said after a moment’s consideration. “Would you please give the Grand Commander a wake-up call now, then?”
“I already have, Lord Thane.” Yahet responded with a nervous nod. “You’ll be patched through to her chambers as soon as she’s presentable.”
“My gratitude." Thane said. “Have a good watch, Officer.”
The holographic face nodded curtly and then flickered out, leaving Thane alone in his chambers. As he waited for the ship’s Grand Commander to dress herself, he took a look around his quarters. Despite the Exemplar’s function as a warship, the vessel was lavishly decorated to reflect Harir’s status. A veritable palace in space. Wherever you looked, there would be some decoration of gold or statue of marble covering the walls or taking up the center of the room.
Thane’s chambers were simple by comparison. The space was much larger than what he needed, but his rank demanded a measure of grandeur. He had no furniture except for a simple desk and three chairs made from actual wood. Tucked away in an alcove stood a bed, its covers untouched and meticulously maintained. He had stripped the walls of the decorative layer which could be found nearly everywhere else on the ship, letting him gaze upon the naked alloys which formed the Exemplar’s superstructure.
The walls were left bare for the most part, except for two panels. One was covered in a tightly packed together clump of names. The names of those who had died under his command. The other panel supported a rack holding trophies –mostly weapons– from each of the alien races Thane had faced.
Just as Thane considered stepping forward to reminisce while he waited, the holo-projector whirred back to life, displaying the stout features of Grand Commander Miran. She hid the signs of her prematurely ended resting period well, but Thane noticed them nonetheless.
“Captain-Emissary.” She greeted him neutrally. “I hear there’s been an alpha-level alert.”
“Correct, and you should have been awake for it half an hour ago.” He said, stating it as a fact, not an accusation.
“You are right as always, Thane. This is indeed an exceptional occurrence. My apologies.” She said, pouring herself a cup of Caf. “So what’s important enough for you to force-encrypt a dataset? I can’t make heads or tails from it myself.”
“It takes a trained eye.” Thane agreed, glad that Miran had at least taken the time to read through the reading. And that she was clearly not in the mood to engage in pleasantries. “The data represents heightened energy spikes in the Veil membrane. For lack of a better term, one could say that the surface is boiling with activity.”
“A demon clawing at the barrier?” Miran asked. She had started to bring the steaming drink to her face, judged it too hot, and placed it back down on her desk.
“Not quite. This activity is coming from within. Lord Neith is sounding every bell and whistle he can access.”
Miran paused, then frowned, the thick furrows of her brow breaking up her skin. “Isn’t that a sign that–”
“A prophecy is nearing fulfillment, yes. And from what we can infer, it’s a bad one.”
“Do we know which prophecy we’re looking at?” She asked, leaning her elbows on her desk.
“Not with a hundred percent confidence, but there is one that matches the signs very well. It is called A million eyes, and it originates from a system currently experiencing a lot of activity.”
“I see." Miran said, having to suppress a yawn “So what does this prophecy state?”
Thane cleared his throat, then spoke the prediction of the future as stated by A million eyes.
“From darkest depths of endless nights. A savior on blue wings takes flight.
From bedrock and ice they have been hewn, yet surpass they shall the furthest moon.
Free spirit, loose from all command. When Veilbreak comes, they too will stand.”
Miran perked her ears at the last passage, turning to the Emissary-Captain with one eyebrow raised. “Veilbreak might be upon us?” She asked.
“Possibly.” Thane said. “This is the version of the prophecy as it was released to the public. There is, however, another passage. One omitted by decree of Oracle Catae.” He saw that the Grand Commander was about to make a comment, so he silenced her by raising her hand. Better that she heard the whole thing before asking questions.
“Where the savior steps, worlds shall quake. The Destroyer follows in their wake.
Old masters, fear the rend. Beware their name: Demonfriend.”
Miran let out a short sigh, then sipped from her Caf.
“Well. That got a whole lot less optimistic.” She said, taking a bigger sip. She winced, the drink was still scalding hot.
“Why was the prophecy released at all if it paints such a bleak picture?” She asked.
“Because it was made during Sindrion’s development. A system’s first prophecy is important to the settlers. It cannot simply not be told.”
“I get that, but don’t you think they’ll be disappointed when their savior turns out to be their doom?”
“Part of the logic behind the decision is that the Sindrionites will always be looking out for said savior. The Oracles don’t have to observe their world in secret, the locals are doing it for them.” Thane explained.
“Had the Sindrionites known this blue-winged hero was a danger to them all, anyone who fit that description would go into hiding out of fear for their lives. There’d be a major effort made to prevent the prophecy, which only makes it more likely to come to pass.”
“So it’s better to lie to them. That might end up being a dangerous political situation, Thane.”
The Equerry chuckled in a rare outing of emotion, then looked Miran in the eyes.
“We’re Kinsworn, Grand-Commander. Dangerous situations are our specialty.”