“He’ll help her, Elara. Really,” Aldiner attempted to reassure me as I paced past him for the umpteenth time. “Why don’t you sit down? I’m good with my hands. I could give you a massage if it’ll help! Or…”
Aldiner floundered, motioning with his hands as he tried to think of something, anything to get me to cool off. We had been like this for the past hour. They wouldn’t let me go outside to warn my team what was going on, and they wouldn’t reenable my comms either. If my team was following protocols, they would remain hidden and lying in wait until they could get more information.
“I don’t like sitting around doing nothing.” I shook my head. “And that official is supposed to be mine to kill. Why haven’t they finished dealing with him yet?”
“Because killing him doesn’t lead to information,” Aldiner answered placatingly, moving his hands in an unfamiliar gesture. “Please. Sit? What can I do—”
“Nothing.” I sat abruptly and crossed my arms.
Aldiner flinched slightly, looking taken aback. “I… I can’t find you someone more pleasing for entertainment. We evacuated everyone already. Um…”
“Huh?” I shot him a perplexed glance, then paused. Aldiner looked devastated. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Is it…is it because I’m affiliated with the ‘cult?’” Aldiner asked, gripping his chest with one hand as he leaned toward me, desperately searching my face. “You can trust me, Elara, really! They’re not really a cult, they’ve just been labeled as such because they were exiled. I’m one of their connections to the Syldra mainstream. That’s all!”
I just stared at him. “Uh…? Is what because… I’m confused.”
Aldiner scrunched his nose and cocked his head. “That…isn’t the reason you won’t let me entertain or relax you? Oh! Do you prefer Rel?”
“Honestly!” The cultist exclaimed without turning around. “She doesn’t want ‘services.’ It is simple as that. Get out of your own head and study her colors. She is too stressed to accept methods of relaxation or entertainment.”
Aldiner hesitated to examine me. Once he did, his glow shifted yellow and he looked away, flushing blue. “S-sorry. I’m not used to someone not demanding service. Let alone saying ‘no.’”
I eyed the uncharacteristically nervous Syldrari as he fidgeted with his sheer crop top. After a moment, I decided a change of subject was in order. “Thank you for healing me.”
“Wha—?” Aldiner’s eyes widened, and he flushed darker. “You don’t need to thank me. I just did my duty. Leaving a queen half dead would have been… I was able to do something about it, so I did.”
“You really don’t know what to do with yourself, do you?” I studied Aldiner, watching him squirm as I did so. “Why don’t you sit down and collect yourself? It’s not like I’m going to run off without Aisu.”
“Sitting still just makes me antsy.” Aldiner twisted bangles around his wrist absentmindedly. “Dance is what helps me. But, if I can’t dance for you…”
“Why can’t you dance for yourself?” I blinked at him.
The cultist let out a snort of laughter. “She has a point. Stop letting us make you so nervous. Neither of us will bite.”
“She might,” Aldiner pointed out, eyeing me. “I bet you’re a biter. You’ve got that vibe. We aren’t chew toys, you know.”
“You aren’t toys, period. That doesn’t mean biting is a bad— Nuh uh. I’m not falling into that trap.” I crossed my arms and shot Aldiner a mock-grumpy look. He cracked a smile and let out a little laugh, seeming to relax a little. Progress. Now what?
“If you promise you won’t run off, I’ll dance while you pace or sit,” Aldiner offered after thinking for a moment. “I can talk while I dance, but I can’t promise I’m a good conversationalist. Most queens don’t particularly want anything beyond physical prowess from their entertainment.”
“I just want you to be unapologetically you,” I stated with a shrug. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what queens want. Syldrari have a beautiful, eclectic, artistic culture where self-expression should be encouraged. Bending to the whims of queens is nonsensical to me.”
“While you’re not wrong, do you think you could say the same if you didn’t have such power?” The cultist inquired, while Aldiner simply frowned and rubbed his jaw in thought.
“Yes. I was prepared to rot in my isolation cell to uphold my morals, and that was before I had any grasp on what my power meant,” I answered plainly. “You’re talking to someone whose mind was wiped clean. I’m quite certain that the personality I developed in isolation would have been the same with or without the power of a queen. Power was never part of the equation in that hellhole.”
“Okay, what if I show you a Syldrari battle dance instead of something saucy?” Aldiner spoke up suddenly, his expression brightening. “Your discomfort is with ‘services,’ right? But you like learning Syldrari culture. Or I suppose relearning it. The others can’t show you dances, but I can!”
“Is that what you want to do?” I asked.
“Yes!” Aldiner smiled brightly, his colors sparking dozens of hues. “Sit? Please?”
I did as he asked, deciding that further refusal would be simply…obstinate. Once I was comfortable, Aldiner pulled a pair of translucent, intricate chakram-like weapons from his module and began to dance with them.
Aldiner twirled past me, his lean, muscular body stretching and bending gracefully to the beat of whatever he’d chosen to listen to in his head. He looked much…freer and relaxed than any other time I’d seen him. “So, Elara, what would you like to talk about?”
“Hmm…” I tracked his movements while I thought, watching as he leapt past the working cultist, leaving paths of vibrant light on the air behind him—though when I blinked, they went away. For a moment, I considered asking about that. But, then I recalled something from when I had met a cultist for the second time. Something that had been bugging me in the back of my mind. “I’d like to know more about Syldrari ‘kings.’ What is the proper word for them, why did this Lun’iri or one of his companions call Rel his king?”
“Ah… You always go straight for the difficult ones,” Aldiner remarked, though the cultist made no motion to indicate he’d heard the question. “Let’s see…you know that they’re men of power, its rumored the Abyss Father was one, and that many kings have been killed or coerced into swearing their allegiance to a queen. Right?”
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“Yeah… Have I mentioned your culture frustrates me?” I sighed and sunk back in my chair, watching as Aldiner smiled and continued dancing around the room.
“The Syldran word for ‘king’ is Ter’suline,” the cultist stated without moving, his eyes remaining closed and his hands around Aisu’s head. “That word is lost to the current culture, only slurs remain. Slurs I will not repeat, and neither will you, Aldiner.”
“Right… Ter’suline it is.” Aldiner slowed to a stop, shooting the cultist an odd look before taking a few steps toward me. “I don’t know why Rel would have been called a king. Sure, he’s a founder of a clan and he’s an Elder in it. But that’s it. I’ve never felt or seen queen-like power from him.”
“Perhaps it is easier to overlook because Lun’iri have become so weak,” the cultist muttered bitterly, leaving Aisu to rest on the sofa. He stood and walked over to join us, his expression pained and a touch hollow.
“Weak? I disagree.” I shook my head.
The cultist eyed me doubtfully. “And why is that?”
“Because a determined Lun’iri will move the stars for a cause or a queen he believes in. There’s nothing weak about that,” I answered, the words coming out of my mouth before I even fully understood what I was saying. Yet, it was what I believed, deep in my bones. “Some people may say that only happens because queens manipulate them into action. I disagree.
“There are those who move stars, there are those who fight or guard, there are Lun’iri who are better off as…forgive me for the phrasing, but they are better as pets, entertainment, or caregivers due to their personalities. They are strong in different ways. I think…a weak Lun’iri would simply ‘exist’ or ‘accept’ his role in a clan. The strong embrace it and turn it into a source of power.”
“…yet you have no memory from before the Resonance Incident?” The cultist studied me, a wry smile on his face. “You are convincing when you speak. Tell me, are you certain you don’t understand Syldran?”
“What…? No, no I do not.”
“Ter’suline translates to, ‘he who moves the stars.’ The word was taken from the name of one of the first ‘kings’—a Lun’iri who was a fierce warrior and would do anything for his nesting group, and especially for his queen, their children, and their clan.” The cultist mused, his eyes going out of focus. “If I recall correctly…Clan R’selkti can be traced back to his bloodline.”
“So, it wasn’t you, but was your ‘vessel,’ who called Rel…?”
The cultist nodded. “Yes, he sensed immense potential from Rel. Not knowing what else to call him, he leapt to a conclusion. I haven’t had the opportunity to confirm the theory.”
“Elara, please you have to be careful. If people suspect Rel is…” Aldiner paused, clutching his chest, his brow knitting as he searched for words, “…Rel will be executed or worse if people think he is a king.”
Or worse…? I looked between the two, both looked uncomfortable. “I have no intention of putting any of you in danger, including Rel. I’m just… trying to regain my lost culture.”
“Perhaps we should worry about the conflict outside, first.” The cultist stepped past me, pulling a bladed staff of some unknown design from his armory module. “If you will excuse me for a moment.”
He phased through the wall and Aldiner promptly latched onto my arm, leaning down a little closer. “I…appreciate what you said about Lun’iri. Really, I do. But you need to be careful. If anyone suspects Rel or Jysel…”
“I know it’s serious when you stop being naughty,” I remarked dryly, earning a fang-filled grin in response.
“Hey, if you finally get too frustrated…” he stuck his dual or split tongues out of his mouth and bent one up, the other down, and gave me a wink before sauntering off, leaving it at that.
…yeah no. Let’s not dwell on that. I shook my head and gave Aldiner the most neutral look I could manage. “You know, I’m going to have a hard time explaining this to HQ. Citomy is the one who arranged for my team to be sent here and deal with this official.”
“Hmmm? Really?” Aldiner murmured, bringing a hand up to the pole in the room and gracefully circling around it, shooting me a devious smile. “That’s interesting. Her Royal C’sej has no one in the building. There’s me, there’s the V’shir, the ‘cult,’ and there’s Jysel’s people…”
“A fourth clan has appeared—another group of exiles,” the cultist stated as he walked back into the room. “We’re going to be trapped here for a while. Elara, I want to study your mind, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“…I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to say ‘no’ after I trusted you to put Aisu back together.” I eyed him as he walked toward me. “If you find any secret military information in there—”
“—I didn’t learn it from you.” He held a finger up, his lips pulling into an amused smile. “It isn’t government information I’m after. After seeing the contents of Aisu’s mind and the manner in which her memories were altered… I want to know where the differences are with you.
“Sit back and relax. If you feel any discomfort, tell me. You shouldn’t suffer any pain from this process, but if you do…”
Why am I agreeing to this…? Curiosity? Naivety? Both? I did as instructed, watching as the cultist’s hand outstretched and he placed it on my head, palm resting against my brow. His piercing eyes slowly closed, and I felt a ripple around us as he seemed to hum from deep within himself.
I felt…nothing, which I found to be a little disconcerting. The cultist’s expression grew darker by the moment, until his eyes snapped open in an expression of shock, a tear trickling down his face.
“You… Nothing. They left nothing? Such precision by comparison…” he struggled, his voice drowning in equal parts anger and sorrow. The shadows around us and the tentacles of his coat seemed to writhe as he attempted to come to terms with whatever he saw.
Across the room, Aldiner had fled the pole to hide on the couch beside Aisu.
Not sure what the best course of action was, I spoke up, “I take it you learned something, even if ‘nothing’ was left?”
“The human vermin aren’t responsible, not for something of this scale, complexity, or precision,” the cultist answered bitterly. He took a moment to compose himself before looking me in the eyes and speaking, “I…am not sure where you come from or how old you may be, but it would not surprise me if you predate this human empire.
“If Syldrari used this technology against you, someone wanted you silenced. If it was one of Syldra’s enemies…it doesn’t make sense for you to be alive. This type of technology has been forbidden for a long time, but copies were kept in case a day came where circumstances required it—or if removing someone’s memory might be merciful.”
“So, you’re saying this goes well beyond whatever the Resonance Incident did to us,” I murmured, frowning. The cultist turned away with a pained expression, looking as if he wanted to say more.
“…focus on the humans,” the cultist stated quietly. “They, at least, are something you can hunt. The rest of this is far above your reach as an imperial pawn. Until you discover a way out, there is nothing you can do about your personal history.
“Consider this my advice to you: pour your energy into surviving your current situation. You are…small enough to be ignored by most predators…”
“A Syldran saying?” I asked.
“Yes…it is how we survived long enough to thrive.” He gave me a firm nod, his eyes narrowing. “The queens will devour you whole and spit you out as another person if you draw too much attention.”
“In other words, continue acting like I’m just a poor, genetically altered pawn of the empire? I can do that,” I mused.
The cultist hesitated, then looked to Aldiner. “I want you to arrange for me to personally meet with the R’selkti twins. There is much I wish to discuss with them.”
“I can do that…” Aldiner glanced at me. “We should worry about getting these two out. It sounds like things are escalating downstairs.”
“I noticed your neurochip is new. Syldran, is it not?” The cultist turned and walked over to me, offering me a hand. “I can give you our language—our full language—if you want. Old and new.”
“…please. Though, I can’t guarantee Zafir won’t uninstall it again.”
The cultist chuckled. “He has several millennia to go before he can undo any of my work.”
And, just like that, the cultist emanated a pretty, eerie sound that made me feel as if the world was trying to crawl out of its own skin. My head spun, and I caught myself on the sofa’s armrest.
“Good, that will be perfect.” The cultist nodded, studying me with an amused smile. “You will need to be careful, of course. Now…you should put your visor and gas mask back on.
“I am going to escort the two of you out of here and back to your team.”
“Thank you,” I offered, earning a surprised glance. “For helping Aisu, and for giving me…our language back. I appreciate it.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here. They’re going to burn the building down!” Aldiner hissed, carrying Aisu over. “And, I am not repeating what they’re going to do with that bastard.”
“She will learn soon enough—and I doubt she will disagree with their punishment.