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Song of the Depths
[B2] Chapter Seven

[B2] Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

“One bite?” Ciheri begged, leaning between my seat and Rel’s. “Please? It smells so good!”

“No. You will wait until we get to Lynir’s store,” Rel stated calmly, keeping his eyes forward as his sleek, Syldrari car-ship-thing glided through the air. Without shifting, he said, “Elara? You have been suspiciously quiet. What are you up to?”

“Hmm? Oh, just thinking,” I murmured, bringing a finger up to my lips. “Last night was…a lot. I’m trying to sort it better for when we get a chance to discuss it in detail.”

“A proactive Nys’raelyr. What a welcome change of pace,” Rel teased, a smile spreading across his face.

“Calling me a queen openly doesn’t seem like a wise choice,” I pointed out, resting my head back as Ciheri peered between us.

“It isn’t openly, it’s just us here,” Ciheri stated, giving me a perplexed stare.

“And if you two become so accustomed to using that word for me, that you slip up elsewhere?” I countered, shaking my head. “Besides. I’m Elara—a woman with strange power and stranger friends. I think it’s best we make sure that remains the public perception.”

“Perhaps I should call you ‘Ath’isrin’ instead?” Rel shot me a devious, confident smile.

“C-calling a Nys’raelyr that, that’s—” Ciheri stuttered, while I tried to catch up on the meaning of the word.

When I found it, I twitched and felt heat rise in my entire body. It was the counterpart to when I had called him ‘Vyresehje.’ While that term meant a ‘close, dominant Lun’iri,’ the term he’d suggested meant ‘one who belongs to a Vyresehje.’

“I think Elara will agree that was a fair suggestion,” Rel mused as Ciheri continued to murmur concerns. “Well, Elara?”

“Wouldn’t…what was it? I think it translated to ‘my dear?’ Wouldn’t that be less suspicious?” I eyed him. Plus, he said it much differently from how he said Ath’isrin. Though, I wasn’t sure how much of that was a matter of privacy.

“Ah, so you are partial to Salaith-daiyr?” Rel chuckled. “Don’t fret. I’m sure we will find a suitable form of address for you soon enough.”

“There’s so many though…” Ciheri melted between our seats, pouting. “We’d be better off making up our own for her.”

“And what’s wrong with calling me Elara?” I asked dryly, causing the pair to exchange a look.

“Terms of endearment are nearly as important as actions in our culture,” Rel offered after a moment. “We have different ones based on if we are talking to the individual in question, or about them to another person. Many of these terms also vary by the sex of the subject in question.”

“We have a complex culture to match the complex beings we are,” Ciheri suggested with a cheerful smile. “We, that is most of us, love to make others feel safe, welcomed, and accepted. Especially after seeing how some species treat artists and scientists.”

“The Nys’raelyr are, after all, a statistical minority,” Rel murmured distractedly, his gaze shifting over to the red-light district as we flew over it—and to the building that had burned down the prior night. “I suppose I owe them thanks for getting you out of there…”

“A statistical minority, yet they have so much power they can run things unchallenged?” I sighed in disappointment. “It sounds to me like Syldrari culture would be wonderful…if not for the queens.”

“A matter you aren’t yet powerful enough to combat. I hate it, but the cultist was right to tell you to focus on the humans.” Rel gave me a firm look that left no room for argument. “Much like you must be able to walk before you can run—you need to be able to do many things before you can even think of challenging the status quo. Citomy hasn’t held her position for so long by winning favor—she has kept it because none of her challengers were able to best her in battle.”

“I heard that she calls on the old laws for settling such disputes…” Ciheri sighed, his gaze downcast. “It’s the perfect defense against new and young queens. Unless someone is a prodigy or genius, they won’t stand a chance against Citomy unless they’re her age or older.”

“There are other ways to defeat her,” Rel disagreed, shaking his head. “Most Nys’raelyr have simply been groomed to not cultivate the necessary skill sets.”

“What would have happened if the Resonance Weapon had been fired and wiped out everyone on this planet and in orbit?” I inquired, raising an eyebrow. “What is the ‘backup plan’ for losing someone of her position?”

“If someone such as her is lost or steps down, the leaders of the Celestial Houses vote for a new leader,” Rel answered with a grimace. “The last several iri of her position won their place by overthrowing the last one in combat. Usually…it is a fight to the death.”

“Lovely.” I rolled my eyes, shifting a little in my seat as the vehicle drifted downward to land outside of Therys-shyerr. “Well, shall we?”

“Aww, now we have to switch back to human, right?” Ciheri grumbled, hanging his head.

“Human?” I glanced between them as Rel laughed.

“Ciheri, it is called Creshian.” Rel moved to get out of the vehicle, stretching himself out before striding over to my side. “Creshian, for the planet Creshe.”

Rel pulled me to my feet, then assisted Ciheri as well. Together, we made our way into Lynir’s boutique, where the pink Syldrari in question hurriedly closed the curtains and locked the doors behind us.

“Elara! It’s good to see you again,” Lynir greeted me with a brilliant smile, then looked to Rel. “Elder Rel, welcome, welcome. And this one is…?”

“Ciheri,” Rel answered, placing a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder and nudging him forward. “He’s a touch skittish, be—”

“Ciheri…?” Lynir murmured, then his face lit with recognition. “Ah! Are you the Ciheri? Last I heard, you had joined a research clan.”

“Oh…um, you’ve heard of me?” Ciheri squirmed with his long sleeves as Lynir leaned in.

“Of course! News of your mother’s trial made it even here. I had planned to reach out and see if modeling or fashion work interested you, but by the time I heard, the researchers of Clan Rind’suul had claimed you.” Lynir tiled his head and tapped his knuckles against one cheek while he thought. “Hmmm…yes, I think my designs would suit you well. Why don’t we find you some clothing you like, after breakfast?”

“Lynir…” Rel warned.

“What? Friends of Nys’raelyr Elara are friends of mine—I intend to become a personal tailor to her ‘court.’” Lynir motioned dismissively at Rel, then gave Ciheri a bright smile. “Whatever you like. My treat.”

“Sooo…what was all that about?” I interjected, watching as Ciheri flushed and looked away from me. “If it’s too personal I won’t pry, but I have to admit I’m curious now.”

“Lynir and I will go set up a table and our food while you two talk.” Rel grabbed Lynir firmly by the shoulders and steered him away.

“It’s fine, it is common knowledge. Umm…” Ciheri’s eyes ticked back and forth as he searched for words. “Sometimes…sometimes someone is so obsessed with trying to produce a queen, that they force their children to grow into iri when they reach adulthood. My mother groomed me to be a queen from birth. She was very controlling and manipulative. She had me believing that I was someone else entirely, which made my body mature incorrectly. We’re usually sexless until we mature—queens sometimes become iri early.”

When Ciheri stopped, looking more embarrassed than before, I asked, “She manipulated you to become a woman, basically? Then…how are you, ‘you’ now?”

“Oh! Um, interfering with someone’s natural identity is a high crime on Syldra. We can see someone’s sex by the colors and patterns around them in certain spectrums that humans can’t perceive,” Ciheri answered, seeming to perk up at the opportunity to go into an explanation of Syldran biology. “My body and my ‘aura,’ if you will, didn’t match. I snuck out of the house at one point, then everyone knew something was wrong. There was an investigation, and the Celestial Houses declared my mother guilty. In the following months, they gave me the opportunity to become ‘me.’

“One of the technologies that came alongside guided evolution was the ability to cause natural, rapid change to the appropriate sex. There’s a rare genetic mutation that causes Syldrari to remain sexless even in adulthood, so the technology was developed to help people like them…and people like me.”

“So, you’re…” I blinked at him. “I don’t think I ever asked which sex you are. I still can’t see things like that.”

“Oh! I’m Sol’iri!” Ciheri answered cheerfully, leaning closer, his hands linked behind his back. “Which, if you didn’t know, means that I’m ‘intersex.’ I think that’s what humans call it?”

“That must have been a trying experience…” I remarked, watching as he edged toward me with an odd look on his face. “What?”

“You’re not doing the human thing of freaking out,” Ciheri pointed out, tilting his head, his gradated cotton candy pink and blue hair falling over part of his face.

“Hmm? No, of course not. I’m happy for you. You get to be who you are instead of— Oof!” I managed to catch myself as Ciheri practically tackle-hugged me, nuzzling his face into my clavicle.

“You’re nice. Rel? Rel? We’re keeping her, right?” Ciheri called, his voice muffled against my skin.

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“You mean she will be keeping you? Yes, I think so,” Rel answered, laughing as he rejoined us and rested his forearm on my shoulder. He looked down at Ciheri, his expression growing more serious as he looked to me. “Jysel and I could have ended up the same way. Citomy raised us to be queens—but we fixated on the heroes of the stories instead. The oh-so-loyal Lun’iri who served and protected their queens without question. We wanted to become those fierce, unbeatable warriors.”

“I don’t like fighting…” Ciheri slumped against me, then finally straightened, though he kept his arms loosely around me. “In most cases, anyway…being a royal guard never appealed to me in those stories. My mother went the route of telling me that, if I grew up to be a queen, I could focus on any passion I wanted—and kept me so isolated that I didn’t realize that was true of any Syldrari…”

“We should join Lynir and have our breakfast,” Rel prompted, putting an arm around my shoulders and his other around Ciheri’s. “Then, we should let Lynir play dress up with you two.”

“You’re not escaping, Elder Rel. Your wardrobe is atrocious, and I will not have you escorting our queen while looking like a mismatched human peasant!” Lynir scolded Rel as we approached, his expression mock-angry, before he laughed. “Or perhaps…”

“These two first. I can come by any time.” Rel shook his head.

“But how often can you model for Elara?” Lynir gave Rel a smug look. “She clearly likes you in those pants. I think we can find some other fashions she’ll want to take you out of.”

“Elara’s…other need is more urgent,” Rel deflected, nudging me forward. “Elara, show him.”

“My other need, huh?” I huffed, pulling off my gloves.

Lynir promptly shifted to seriousness and took one of my hands in his. He studied my hand and arm, a fierce gleam in his eyes by the time he met my gaze. “Beautiful…but ‘they’ want you to hide this development?”

“Yes, of course.” I gave him a half-smile. “I’ll need elbow-length gloves. I don’t know what they’ll do when more of me changes.”

“Let’s hope we have a way of getting you off-world by then.” Rel squeezed me, then pressed me toward the table. “Let’s eat—you too, Lynir. Dressing them up can wait until after.”

“Dressing the three of you,” Lynir corrected, smiling as he looked between us. “I insist. The longer I see you with them under each arm, the clearer it becomes.”

Rel glanced between us, then shook his head, dropping his arms from our shoulders. Ciheri pouted a little, while I opted to sit down at the table and make myself comfortable.

“What happened to being starving, Ciheri?” I shot the pouting Syldrari an amused look. He flushed, snapped out of it, and promptly squeezed in at the table to my right, while Rel settled to my left.

Lynir sat across from us, his focus on the array of human breakfast foods. “With such striking coloration, I will have to reconsider some of my pending designs for you. New colors and prints are in order… Ah, the finished pieces will be fine. I began with the dark colors.”

“Yes…we were recently discussing how none of us has seen someone of her color before,” Rel remarked as he handed me my drink. “At least, not that particular family of blue. The dark stone colors and the reef blues are all quite different from her hue.”

“Syldrari can be pretty much any color though, right? There has to be somewhere on Syldra that produces my ‘range’ of color,” I pointed out while cutting up my food.

“Not necessarily. Children born off-world or to parents from differing regions can result in unique colors or combinations.” Lynir flicked a hologram up from the floor and turned it. Hundreds of tiny Syldrari models with various skin colors appeared, arranged into groupings that appeared dependent on biome. The reefs and several deep-sea biomes appeared to be the most diverse, while other regions stayed incredibly close in hue, shade, or both.

“Not many blues.” I frowned at the image, glancing over the different regions. “Though…it seems like not many of those places have anything for some blue to ‘blend into.’”

“Which is one reason, out of dozens, that you were probably born somewhere else,” Ciheri stated, though his gaze was transfixed on a strawberry as he prodded it in suspicion.

Rel rested an elbow on the table, leaning forward a bit with his chin in his hand, his gaze locking onto Ciheri. “Don’t make me feed you.”

Ciheri flushed, stabbed the berry with his fork, and popped it in his mouth.

Chuckling, Lynir spoke up, “We haven’t determined what causes unique colors to occur in space-born children. Your guess is as good as ours. I recommend you don’t worry over it—your color, at the end of the day, doesn’t matter. We’re simply curious.”

With that matter ‘settled,’ we dove into our food, and I listened to the three of them talk. My mind, however, was elsewhere. To an extent, I was contemplating the way my last mission had gone, Aisu’s sudden predicament, and everything I had learned from both Aldiner and the ‘cultist.’

Yet…I hadn’t learned much at all. They had been careful, and had expertly distracted me from asking too much.

Then there was Rel…who seemed to be smelling progressively tastier by the moment. He wasn’t even doing anything other than eat, yet the alluring aroma was growing stronger with each passing minute—and I was growing hotter with it. When I saw Ciheri fanning himself, I got the impression I wasn’t the only one affected.

I nudged Rel’s foot under the table to get his attention, noting his gaze briefly flicked to me. Rel? What are you doing?

[I’m not sure what you mean?] Rel’s answer came back sounding genuinely baffled.

This…this might sound weird, but you smell like you’re wearing really good cologne, and it keeps getting stronger, I informed him awkwardly, watching as his mouth pulled into a devious smirk and he shot me another side glance. This isn’t the first time, either. Are you doing it on purpose, or…

[We can experiment later to see what causes this phenomenon,] Rel answered, his sultry tone reverberating in my head. Then, he turned his attention to our companions. “Lynir, if you’re finished, perhaps we should get to work? I have only a few hours until the cafe opens.”

“We shall start with Elara’s gloves, then,” Lynir answered with a short nod. He rose to his feet and studied my arms again for a moment, before turning to look around his store. “Hmmm, if I modify some of the formal gloves, I think they will work. Let’s find some that fit her…”

Almost an hour later, I had a dozen glove options packed away in my wardrobe module and found myself sitting in a chair beside Rel while Lynir and Ciheri darted all over the store. Rel had become mildly grumpy since I pulled on my gloves, even though he had been the one to suggest I do it sooner rather than later.

“Hey, I can always take them off until we have to leave,” I spoke quietly, leaning closer to Rel. “If it makes you that uncomfortable…”

“I’m not uncomfortable, I’m frustrated.” Rel shifted, letting his head roll against the headrest until he was looking at me. “I don’t have the words to express how furious I am that someone or something stole not only your memories, but…you. Your body, your knowledge… Destroying someone to such an extent is abhorrent. Most would sooner destroy a museum or library than a person.”

“I take it that’s the only time in which Syldrari would destroy such institutions?” I probed, scooting a little closer to him.

“Yes, of course.” Rel paused, glancing down to where my hip was pressed against his thigh. A low laugh escaped him as he uncrossed his arms and reached out to grip my chin, pressing his thumb over the center of my lips. “Hint taken, but this isn’t the time. If it’s attention you want…why don’t you ask me questions? I’m happy to converse.”

“Okay… What made you decide to come to this planet?” I asked as Rel’s fingers slid along my jaw, to my neck, then back to resting in his lap.

“Investigation, information, distance.” Rel gave me a knowing look. “He’s got you wondering about this planet now?”

“I think the concern is valid. Something has to draw people here and, if it isn’t resources, there must be something else,” I pointed out, though I could tell he didn’t want me to continue down that line of questioning. “Why is my skin so sensitive? Is it just me, or…?”

“Ah…you do seem more sensitive than the average Syldrari, but,” Rel paused to lift my arm into his lap. He ran his hand along the length of my forearm, watching as my fingers involuntarily twitched. “Much like with humans, our skin is an organ. We can sense subtle changes in water, giving us forewarning of various dangers. It may feel softer than human skin…but it is more resilient.”

“I see…” I gave my next question some thought, since he still didn’t seem pleased. Though, his fingertips continuing to trace along my forearm wasn’t helping. Then, I realized—maybe he wanted me to ask about him? “Do you still carve?”

His hand twitched and his lips parted in surprise. “Do I… Yes, on occasion. Why do you ask?”

“Because this seems like a good opportunity to learn more about you.” I crossed one leg over the other and leaned closer to Rel. “What else do you like to do when you’re not working?”

“I…enjoy studying ancient cultures, reading, what humans might call ‘meditation,’ training my mind and body.” Rel sunk into thought for a moment, then shifted his gaze toward me. “I find that carving and martial arts are both relaxing and fun. The same for working with my aetheric abilities.”

“Oh? So, a bit of art, and a bit of knowledge?” I inquired, receiving a hesitant nod from him. “What is it you like about ancient cultures?”

“Too many things to list…” Rel gave me a crooked smile. “It’s fascinating how many different aesthetics ancient cultures within a species can create when isolated from outside influence—and how it evolves when they do finally encounter other civilizations. Some species, those who don’t share similar physical structure to us, have incredibly strange aesthetics.”

“Hmmm, I can see that. Some of the species I’ve seen in this city are so damn strange. I don’t know how they even put on their protective equipment.” I scratched at the underside of my jaw as I thought. “I would think that ‘humanoid’ species would share a lot of similarities, but…”

“Only in the sense that their initial progression follows similar patterns,” Rel stated, a relaxed smile settling on his face. “Environment has a large part in a culture’s development, as that dictates what resources are available to them, and will inspire or influence them toward specific trends. How many colors they can see and how many they can make are also factors. Some species have monochromatic vision, others can see highly specific spectrums, and others can’t see at all.”

“My turn!” Ciheri declared, prancing over in a vaguely dress-like ensemble. The patterned pastel piece somehow didn’t look out of place on him. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was so androgynous, or if it was because the outfit’s structure didn’t seem to be geared toward people with breasts. Or…maybe it was the ‘modern tribal’ aesthetic?

Rel let out a small sigh as Ciheri perched next to me and rubbed his cheek into my upper arm.

“And it’s your turn with me,” Lynir stated, motioning to Rel. “Elara, what would you like to see him in?”

“Uh…? Whatever he’s comfortable expressing himself in?” I stared blankly at Lynir as Rel stood and reluctantly joined him. “I don’t really feel right giving an opinion.”

“How precious,” Lynir mused before shifting his attention to Rel. “Let’s find some commanding, fashionable attire for you. Formal, business, casual, boudoir…”

Lynir steered Rel off somewhere, leaving me with Ciheri continuing to nuzzle my arm. Not quite sure what to talk about, I decided to start simple, “Did you find stuff you like?”

“Lots! Lynir is really understanding of my preferences being all over the place” Ciheri answered cheerfully, nodding against my arm. “I think you’re safe to make him your dedicated tailor. He’ll make sure we’re all pretty!”

“Ciheri, I don’t want—”

“To live? Is that what you’re saying?” Ciheri sat up straight, his expression becoming serious. I stared at him, baffled, unsure of where that assumption came from. “That’s what will happen if you don’t become a queen in your situation. You’re not protected by Syldra’s laws right now, and if Rel moves Clan V’shir against the humans to protect you…he’ll be exiled like Jysel. If that happens…”

Ciheri trailed off, clenching his fists in his lap. I sighed softly and bumped him with my shoulder before speaking, “Ciheri, I can’t control my power as a ‘queen’ yet. That means, whenever I talk to any of you, I have to worry about what I say or do. Every moment. I can’t just be myself for fear of accidentally…ruining you.

“It’s stressful knowing that one slip of the tongue could…enslave one or all of you to me. A really bad one could change who you all are, right? Maybe becoming a queen is sought after by many Syldrari, but to me… I don’t see what’s so appealing.”

“It’s difficult to explain…” Ciheri slumped in his seat.

“Culturally and personally, we value you as much or more than we value ourselves,” Rel suggested as he strode over, wearing a button-down shirt with sheer asymmetric paneling. “Queen or not that is true—for me, at least. Taking your power and status out of the equation, you are an iri with a unique view of the universe. You show respect to us all, even to Lun’iri.

“The more important nuances of why you should become our queen can be discussed later. And… Ciheri, she can dislike her position and still cooperate. She knows that, by agreeing to work for the humans, she selected the path of survival. She can’t abandon that path now. Instead, she must manipulate it.”

“Speaking of conversing later…” I trailed off when Rel nodded his understanding.

“Yes, we need to talk. When Aldiner returns, he and Ciheri will run the cafe for the rest of the night. We will have all the time in the world to…talk.”