Jim’s right eye squinted against the bright midday sunlight as it washed across the reaches of southern Ruin. His hands manipulated the periscope as he swept left to right. A meter below the reflecting mirror, the desert sand slid by, parting around the thick metal appendage like water around a rock.

The sound of repulsed earth outside the hull reminded Jim of water in fact as it gently brushed the outside of the ship. Over the past hour, the noise had noticeably increased. Fredrickson suspected they were nearing a change in geology. “Hopefully the foothills surrounding the Trest River Delta are nearing,” he said.

“There we go,” Jim said. “Henry, come about, ten degrees port. I see them.”

The ship vibrated slightly as Henry manipulated the steering column. Jim didn’t feel that it was worthy of being called a wheel as it more closely resembled a the joystick of a fighter craft.

He pulled away from the viewer and pressed the control to retract the scope. A quiet metallic whirr was followed by a loud click. He rubbed his right eye as it adjusted the lesser light of the bridge.

The ship began to shudder. The calming rush of sand outside was now replaced with a deeper grinding. “Looks like this is our stop, everyone,” Henry said as he eased the throttle lever down to its FULL STOP position. “We walk from here.”

“If by we, you mean Jim and Miss. Meyer, then yes,” Fredrickson said.

Henry crossed his arms and said, “I’ve been cooped up in this thing long enough, I’d say. I think it’s time I got out and stretched my legs for a bit.”

The ambassador shook his head. “Have you forgotten who runs this city? If someone spots a clockwork man roaming around, they will certainly ask questions. Questions lead to more questions which soon lead to the authorities,” he warned.

Jim interrupted before Henry could continue, “I’m afraid he’s right, buddy.” His clockwork friend slumped and darkened a few shades. Jim added, “The next free port we run into, I’ll come along with you on whatever crazy adventure you have planned. Promise.” and I’m sure I’ll regret it, he thought.

Henry grunted and rolled across the bridge before disappearing down a hallway. Fredrickson leaned forward and spoke into the oddly bent microphone, “Miss. Meyer to the bridge. Miss. Meyer to the bridge. It’s showtime.”

***

“They are beautiful,” Emat’s soft voice echoed off the bare walls of the Liberator’s infirmary. “I see, the older one has her father’s brevity.”

“And the younger one has my lungs,” Alia said.

As if in response, the second baby begin to cry. Alia patted her bay gently on her back and positioned her to feed. With a few more defiant cries, the baby was soon nursing.

“Have you decided on names for them?” Emat asked.

Alia shook her head. “It would be wrong of me to give them names without Jim.”

Emat tilted his head and said, “Well then, our two peoples differ in that regard.”

“What do you mean?” Alia asked.

“Well,” Emat said, “In Ll’tal society, the responsibility of naming one’s child is left completely to the mother. As the father has little to do with the health or well being of the child up to the time of birth, it is an honor given to the mother. We have a saying in fact.”

He cleared his throat.

To carry, to nurture, to watch.

To love, to hold.

To give.

“Is that some kind of poem?” Alia asked. “I don’t get it.”

Emat smiled and nodded. “Yes, it is a Ll’tal poem. Our poems are patterned a specific way. Three statements, two statements, and one statement.”

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Are all of your poems like that?” Alia asked.

“All of them,” Emat replied.

“Seems so… rushed,” Alia said.

“Much like you pregnancy,” Emat replied, smiling. “Or is it natural for your children to be born in only four months?”

“No,” Alia replied. “In fact, that’s why I called you here. I was hoping your, umm, abilities might help me explain why my children grew and were born in half the time and yet look perfectly healthy.”

Emat nodded. “Then, I assume you will allow me to examine them?” he asked.

Alia agreed and Emat gently placed a paw on each baby. The younger one squirmed for a moment but quickly fell back to sleep. Emat closed his eyes and began to hum. Alia was sure she heard purring behind the deep voice.

Finally, he opened his eyes. He was smiling, but there was sadness on his face too.

Alia frowned. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, your children are healthy,” Emat replied. “It is as I and others before me had forseen.”

Before Alia could reply, Emat began to recite the same words he had spoken to her months before during their first meeting.

When the witch is banished and elements freed.

When two great warriors plant a seed.

The floodgates open. The world begins.

Our chains are broken.

The darkness ends.

Through loss and sorrow, guilt and pain.

A long lost soul returns again.

“Yes, I remember the words,” Alia said. “But what do they have to do with my children?”

“When two great warriors plant a seed,” Emat repeated.

Alia laughed. “Emat,” she said, “I’d hate to break it to you, but humans have sex all the time. It’s probably our males’ favorite thing to do. And, believe me, there are far more capable fighters out there. Jim and I are not great warriors.”

Emat shook his head. “Perhaps not now, but this confirms it. You are indeed the warriors of the prophecy. The ones who will find the key.” Again, he cleared his throat. This time, he was rewarded with a coughing fit.

When he had finally caught his breath, Emat recited the entire rhyme in singsong.

Fire, earth, water, sky.

Deep in the earth, the key does lie.

And with the key, the four must turn.

The old made new, from what was burned.

When the witch is banished and elements freed.

When two great warriors plant a seed.

The floodgates open. The world begins.

Our chains are broken.

The darkness ends.

Through loss and sorrow, guilt and pain.

A long lost soul returns again.

Alia sighed. “I’m sorry Emat,” she said. “I just don’t follow. Oh, and, that prophecy doesn’t conform to your ‘three statements, two statements, and one statement’ rule.”

Emat chuckled, “It is a human prophecy actually. The Ll’tal have spent many generations keeping and interpreting it.”

He placed a furry paw on Alia’s shoulders and added, “The warriors are you and your mate, Jim. You are fire, he is earth, and Vachir is sky. ‘From what was burned’ refers to the sundered city of Hurria. And the key, well, we do not know what it is, but we know it is in the city you call ‘Mountain’s Breath’ and it requires all four awakened elements to be turned.”

“So Jim has told me, “Alia said, “But that’s the problem. The only awakened of water is the Prophetess, and I’d just as soon kill her as try to get her cooperation.”

Emat shook his head. “Of course, she is not the awakened of water in the prophecy. Clearly, she is the witch.”

He leaned in. The corners up his mouth were upturned in a very large, very Ll’tal smile. “You see,” he said, “Your children are healthy, as I said. And this one,” he said, pointing at the younger child, “is an awakened of water.”

***

“How do priests stand wearing these things?” Jim asked, pulling at his robe as he narrowly avoided tripping over it again.

Kalandra giggled. “Yes, they’re very difficult,” she agreed. “But you have to remember, priests are under the control of the Prophetess. They are incapable of thinking a negative thought as it relates to her.”

Jim and Kalandra had been walking for over an hour. It was midday and the sun baked the dirt road leading from the north into Trest. Waves of heat rose steadily from the ground, giving the distant city walls a false silver sheen.

There were few travelers on the northern road, especially at mid-day. More concerning to Jim was his and Kalandra’s disguises. They were both covered head to toe in the red and blue priest’s robes commonly worn by the brainwashed followers of the Prophetess.

The hope was that their attire would be reason enough to keep any Alliance gate guards from asking questions. Priests were feared in every Alliance city for their power and diplomatic immunity that came with their station. If a priest felt you needed to be punished, or in some cases, killed, you would be, and nobody would dare lift a finger to stop it.

Their feet crunched on the broken stones as they shuffled down the road in their uncomfortable robes. “It was smart of you to shave,” Kalandra said as she stepped around a particularly sharp rock. The northern road was in disrepair and rarely used, especially now that relations between the Protectorate and Alliance had soured.

“It seemed the right thing to do,” Jim replied. “Every priest I’ve seen was clean shaven. I assumed it was more than a coincidence.”

“Yep,” Kalandra replied. “The Prophetess requires all of her male servants to be well groomed. Not a hair on their faces.”

“Why do you suppose that is?” Jim asked.

“I don’t know,” Kalandra admitted. She frowned and added, “To be honest, I don’t remember much of my time under her control. Just… snapshots. When she’s in your head, it’s like you aren’t in control and only vaguely aware of what’s happening.”

“So,” Jim said, “She literally controls every single priest?”

“I don’t think so,” Kalandra replied, shaking her head. “It’s more like a twisted version of yourself takes over. She comes in and locks up your consciousness, morals, and any other part of you that makes you unique or good. Then, she takes the worst parts of you, the darkest parts. She shapes it to conform to her will and that part becomes her servant.”

“I can sort of imagine what it is like,” Jim said. “Whenever I free someone from her control, it’s a similar situation. Their mind… or soul are in chains or somehow trapped, and they are powerless against her. When I get to them, they are without hope or willpower.”

“And then you come along and save them,” Kalandra said.

Jim glanced over and saw that she was staring at him. Her priestly robes concealed half of her face, but the intensity of her stare was unmistakable.

He recalled the kiss and swallowed hard. “Kalandra,” he began, but he was interrupted.

“You know, you look very handsome without a beard,” she said.

Jim turned away and stared at the road ahead as they continued on. Finally, he stopped. “Kalandra, listen,” he said, grabbing her arm to get her attention. “I’m glad you are better and I’m happy to have released you from the Prophetess’ control, but -”

“But you regret the kiss,” Kalandra said stoically. She was facing Jim now. He couldn’t read her face through the shadow of her hood.

“I’m married,” he replied. “And, I have kids on the way. It’s not that I’m not flattered. Believe me, I am. Your young and beautiful and… well -”

“It’s fine,” Kalandra interrupted, her words were quick. “I understand. It was just… it was my mistake.” Before he could say more, she turned and continued toward the city wall.

Ahead, the belly of the beast, the capital of the Alliance awaited them.