Connor – 25 years ago
----------------------------------------
Right, so obviously our team’s been grounded indefinitely. No shocker there. At least we didn’t earn a trip to the recycling room. Molly’s been sent for remediation with the Scholars. She’s not loving it, but it gets her out of my hair for brief stints of time. And time? Boy oh boy, that’s all I seem to have on my hands. Better than blood. Objectively.
Murphy, at the recommendation of Asteria and approval of Tyler (Phelan got overruled), decides it’s the perfect time to show me the Senate ropes. Not that I could’ve refused the invitation, but I’ve always been curious what the Senate’s all about, so I gratefully accept the offer.
I already know one of Murphy’s water elemental specialties is an energy dam. At his allowance, powers flow or don’t flow. Pretty straightforward gift. Green or red light. Yellow is where the fresh news comes into play. Yellow is used for Solathairs in transition. He slows that shit down or speeds it up at will. When it hits the point on either side where he gets bored of holding it, he lets nature take its course. My bad. Bored is probably the wrong terminology. I’m sure he has some super secret recipe he uses to make his Solathair soup. Anyway, that’s when Scouts are sent to do their watchful waiting. Green gets a formal invitation by the Tribunal because it’s go time.
Once in Sheelin, the inductee undergoes a thorough evaluation by the Senate. Their fate is determined by a vote carried out by majority ruling. Approved Solathairs go through a ceremony where their transition is completed in a confined space, under the watchful eye of the Tribunal. Declined Solathairs are escorted to the extermination room where they’re exsanguinated or, if she’s in the mood, absorbed by Sheelin.
Today, all my curiosities will be sated. As a tag along, I’ll be witnessing a decision forum. I’ll see how they draw their conclusions for who’s worthy of transition and who’s not. Learning the method behind the madness might help me appreciate this place in a way I’m currently unable to.
Murphy plops me into a chair at one end of a long table. There’s a head chair at the other end and four chairs along each side. I’m immediately confused. I get his spot as the table head, but why are there only eight chairs? Shouldn’t a senate encompass more than eight people?
“The delegates will arrive shortly,” Murphy informs me. “Four representing the humans and four representing the Solathair elements.”
I lift a brow. “No Sumair representation?”
He frowns for an answer. Guess that’s a big, fat fuck no. Not that I’d expect any different, being as we’re an unwanted branch on their monster tree, but it would be nice to know someone’s looking out for us too.
From the left side, there’s shifting rock. The humans file in, varying expressions on their faces. We’ve got confusion, awe, annoyance, and disgust representing Team Human. From the right side, the rock shifts again. The Solathairs file in, with expressionless faces. Literally. They have no faces. What the actual fuck is even happening? Instead of faces, there are these weird ass looking globe things, coloured with red, blue, green, and grey. Presumably, this is Team Solathair.
Apparently, I’m grimacing level two, which is enough to make Murphy pound the table to get my attention. “Anonymity is paramount while voting. Each elemental sect waits in chambers, collating votes that are distributed to their representative and relayed to the table.”
I blow out a breath. Okay, so these mouthpieces speak for the whole, except these fuckers won’t be doing any speaking since they have no mouths. This should be interesting.
Once Team Solathair has taken their seats, Murphy begins, “Voting is now in session for a decision.”
Now shit gets super weird. Team Human shows no recognition to the term, but Team Solathair shows clear distress. As if prepared for the reaction, steel bars come around the chairs, clamping them down in their seats. Additional clamps are extended over their arms and legs. Not sure if Sheelin pulled that trap trick or if Murphy pushed some fancy button. I’m leaning toward Sheelin.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
The next ten minutes are spent with an Archive slideshow, providing a quick history lesson meant to benefit the humans. There’s mostly uniform awe by the end of it. The one looking disgusted now looks horrified. Always an outlier.
“Primary vote is for the element. Please make your elemental decision. Choose between air, earth, fire, or water,” Murphy continues.
At this point, I’m starting to wonder if I was thinking about the correct decision. Wouldn’t they already know what element the would-be-Solathair was? I raise my hand to question, and Murphy’s scowl has me dropping it back down.
Team Solathair all votes for their own element. Classy. Team Human is a mixed bag. Two for air, one for water, and the horrified one picks fire. Huh. Didn’t see that coming. With three votes for air, air wins by majority.
The Air Solathair representative is now convulsing in the chair, which continues to confuse me. Shouldn’t they be excited at this point? They won whatever the decision is.
“Secondary vote is for recipient,” Murphy announces.
Air is causing such a ruckus the chair falls over backward. It instantly rights itself, and additional clamps are fashioned to increase security. Guess it was Sheelin after all. She takes this shit seriously.
Murphy passes dossiers around the table to me and Team Human. The Solathairs get no dossiers. Those details are provided in chambers to their sects. One by one a number lights up on their previously blank globe faces. The numbers align with the numbers on the individual files in front of me. There are four potential candidates. Only, the file details aren’t about the candidate specifically. It’s details of their pedigree. The candidate? It’s a fetus. The decision we’re making here today is who will become a Solathair once the seed they aim to implant sprouts in around eighteen years or so.
We’ve already discussed landing stones, which are the encapsulated contents of Solathair energy. Well, guess what? Those suckers aren’t technically stones. They’re seeds. Energy encased in a hard exterior. Those seeds can be replanted. The Solathair energy fuses with the human fetus at a cellular level, synergizing into one being when the seed casing eventually dissolves.
The unlucky duck is fetus number three. She’ll become an Air Solathair when she transitions. Karmic coincidence my sister just snuffed out one of those? Yeah. Thought so. Fuck me.
“Connor,” Murphy addresses me. “Please escort our human friends to Room E.”
My brow hits the ceiling.
He responds with a tight smile daring me to object. “I’ll be along with our Air representative shortly.”
I swallow hard. “Yes, Sir.”
Team Human follows along behind me, having no idea where I’m leading them. I honestly don’t understand why I’m taking them to the extermination room. Why can’t they just have Asteria scoop out their memory? Why do they have to die? How did they even get here in the first place?
As if Asteria knew I was thinking of her, she arrives at my side, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, while I direct the humans into the room, sealing them in to meet their untimely demise.
“Why?” I whisper.
She doesn’t have time to respond, as along comes Murphy dragging a flailing Air delegate behind him. Murphy shoves him in the room and brushes his hands on his pants. “Done and dusted,” he remarks.
I grimace. “Are you giving him a last meal?”
My thought process is the Air Solathair will get a nice big meal and be consolidated into a landing stone…a damn seed. That seed will then be implanted into candidate three. So, yeah, buddy’s dying, but he’s going to be reincarnated, right? Why is he freaking out so badly? He isn’t the one getting the short end of the shit stick. The humans are.
“He’s getting a last meal, yes,” Murphy agrees.
“Then you’ll implant him in fetus three?” I prompt.
He scrunches up his nose. “No.”
I stare blanks.
Asteria places her hand on my shoulder again. “Balance must be maintained.”
I scoff. “That’s what I said. You’ll implant his seed in the new would-be-Solathair.”
“We don’t recycle used stones,” Murphy interjects.
Now I’m confused. Why are they all in that room then?
“I’ll draw new energy for our recipient,” Asteria explains.
“There’s a bucket full of Air landing stones already available. Why can’t you just recycle those?” I persist.
I legitimately don’t understand why they can’t reuse the stones, and even if they couldn’t, it makes no sense the Air representative is about to eat four humans, only to be eaten himself. The whole thing is illogical. It’s wasteful. This isn’t a recycling room at all. Molly was right. It’s a straight up extermination room.
They both stand there staring at me like I have three heads. They don’t understand how they’re doing anything remotely wrong. Every day, I’m shown more ways why this place is the epitome of awful. Fuck, I wish they’d voted for fire today. Someone should just burn this all right down to the fucking ground.