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Some thousand years later…
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It would be one of those days again, not that EUe knew it.
Though the Ruby Ecumene’s laws were as numerous as stars, three soared high above the rest: the three Cardinal Laws.
One: no one shall knowingly deny nectar to a twEfE in need.
Two: no one shall knowingly misappropriate nectar.
Three: no one shall knowingly seek vengeance over a fairly rendered judgment, be it through duel or due process.
To be found guilty of violating any of the Cardinal Laws was to mark yourself for death, with no hope of escape or appeal, for such crimes struck at the very foundation of the Ecumene’s order, without which the peace would perish, and twEfE would lapse back into the days of barbarism and battle-wine.
In his unhappy mood, EUe wondered if it might have been better if he had committed one of the three great crimes, instead of what had actually happened. At least then, Gods willing, his depression would have come to an end.
Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
Kwekek.
The word echoed in his mind.
Kwekek, noun, signifying a coward, someone effete, languid, and dull, like a spear without a head, a fledgling who saw neither glory in battle, nor pride in a just victory.
That was what the dictionary said, at any rate.
Months before—though, in truth, the better part of two-hundred years ago—EUe’s colleagues and acquaintances had spat that shameful accusation right into his face.
Kwekek.
The capital’s engineering tlelUe-Ua-E—castebund—had denounced him as a shame to his profession and to the memory of the wife and son whose deaths he so mourned. But as much as that hurt, it almost hurt EUe more to know that the accusations were true. Being kwekek might not have been punishable by death, but aside from breaking the Cardinal Laws, there was hardly anything else a twEfE could have done to bring themselves any greater shame, other than, maybe, mauling someone to death in public, without provocation. The only thing worse than a kwekek was a barbarian too deranged and undisciplined to control themselves in matters of anger and violence.
Thank the Herald for small comforts, EUe thought.
Comforts like zUzU Fresh.
The chain of beverage cooperatives was far and away EUe’s favorite snack. They’d been his favorite before he’d become a Gatherer, and they were the only beverage chain he knew of whose recipes for their blended nectar slushtails hadn’t changed with the passage of time. They even advertised that fact in their company slogan: Taste the nostalgia™. Some might have found it silly, but for him, it really did make all the difference.
EUe had always thought it was kind of crazy that it had taken all the way to his own time for someone to realize it might be a good idea to market smoothies blended from fruit, ice cream or sorbet, with one or more nectars as the base. Now, the stuff was everywhere, and the knock-offs were legion. Some people still did the old nectar drinking rite with it, creating a quirky mix of age-old practice and modern chic.
To the visiting civilians—locals and tourists alike—the fact that the Capital City’s Great Temple Skyholder (GTS) had a zUzU Fresh shop was little more than a banal pleasure. But it was much more than that to EUe. Though it might have been awkward to admit, he’d sung his heartsong in wistful jubilation when he’d learned that the GTS happened to have one of his favorite luxuries from his once and former life. As a Gatherer, EUe was forbidden to leave the GTS; the world was cut off from him, with few exceptions, but—fortunately—at least he had zUzU Fresh.
EUe was scheduled to make a journey into the Great Dream before the morning was through. He wanted to get some of his favorite nectar-blend—the Berry Buster—before heading out, just in case things took a calamitous turn while he was away. That was the problem with time dilation: there was no guarantee the world would still be there waiting for you, if and when you ever returned.
Wanting to beat the crowds, EUe had arrived at the GTS’s zUzU Fresh shop at the crack of dawn, but even that was still too late to avoid the line. Any zUzU Fresh outlet worth its salt would see its peak business at the start of the day, when their nectar vats were filled to the brim with the sweetest, freshest hauls straight from the elU fields out in the countryside.
On account of its location, the GTS’s zUzU Fresh was grander than most. The broad, dome-topped building had the look of a temple to it, which helped it blend in with the rest of the structure in its place of repose at the edge of the skyholder’s gardens, near the entry arches on the ground-level. Never ones to sit on a good opportunity to lure in more paying customers, the labor cooperative that operated the shop had capitalized on the similarity, furnishing its interior with a faux temple aesthetic of porous, golden brown stone covered in places by stucco and ornamental, chevron-shaped tiles. There were patterns of circles on the floor to show customers where to stand while waiting in line, slowly advancing toward the long service counter along the wall at the far end of the store. Speaker-runes on the walls channeled the capital region’s chief god of song to mist the shop with a loop of pleasant music. The soprano’s voice was as sweet as her assurances that everyone in line would get their nectar.
Comforting music, orderly lines, medicated water supply: these were the things that helped people stay patient and calm, and that was terribly important. After all, patience was more than just a virtue; it was the difference between life and death itself. Every once in a while, the Philharmonium news would feature a story about a shopper somewhere flying into a rage and killing other customers and/or the cashier, and all because they’d been slowing up the line by taking too long to finish their business. Sometimes, it was the shopkeepers who killed their customers, and for the very same reason: if you took too long to make up your mind, someone might not get their nectar as quickly as they would have liked.
These were perfectly normal problems.
EUe could never blame folks like that for getting angry. It was why his parents had always cautioned him about going into business; it was just too stressful. Even with the state supplying universal basic nectar rations for everyone, some people just weren’t built to handle the high stakes of commerce. As the saying went, business wasn’t for the faint of heart.
But this zUzU fresh was different. Gatherers—though not EUe—stood on duty, whether it was as guards watching from over by the walls, or working at the counter, and everyone knew it. Even though EUe had donned the Utal-a he wore atop his Gatherer’s armor when he wasn’t on duty, by law, all Gatherers had to wear their armors’ black chest pieces at all times. The chest piece marked them as living apart from the rest of society, and was a sobering reminder to civilians of the power a Gatherer could wield, if pushed to do so, thanks to the dreamshards embedded in their chests.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
hlea-UrE: dreamshard.
Who would have thought the world would turn on such little stones?
There was a statue at the center of the long service counter, only it wasn’t a statue, not really. Yes, it was the likeness of a twEfE rendered in stone, but not even the greatest artisans could have produced a level of detail like this. The twEfE’s Utal-a was frozen mid-motion, his wings still unfolding on his back, with his eyes tensed in anger and his beak just barely ajar, and each and every one of his feathers was separate and real—a work of art, for sure, but not a sculpture. The person the statue had once been had been a shop employee who’d been caught hoarding nectar beyond what his stipends and deeds had earned him. Though EUe hadn’t been there at the time, from what he’d heard, the judgment had come swiftly and without mercy, thanks to a fellow Gatherer’s quick thinking. The nectar-thief’s remains had been left to stand where they were, as a warning to anyone who was considering violating the Cardinal Laws.
EUe didn’t like looking at it. It made him uncomfortable, and nervous, and sad, and so many other feelings he’d have rather not felt at all. He hadn’t given himself to the Gatherers just because his life was bad, but because it could have been good, and he hadn’t—and didn’t—care enough about living to bother doing anything about it.
Relinquishing your connections was painless when you had none left to lose.
The line advanced at a steady pace; twEfE never dallied. Every second was precious. Customers took their nectariats out from their coat pockets or their bags and pulled out the nectar-filled phials for payment, happily trading several drams of lower-quality nectar for zUzU’s liquid gold—the best of the harvesters’ castebund’s offerings. Despite the calming atmosphere, nervous ticks abounded. People stretched their wings and shook them out, or rustled their tail feathers, or twittered softly, or clenched their claws.
Watching the other customers in line, EUe couldn’t help but wonder how their lives would change once he entered the Great Dream. There was always the chance that some of the people around him would be dead by the time he returned.
After all, death waited for no twEfE.
Suddenly, someone burst through the entrance and yelled—shrieked.
Sometimes—maybe even more times than most—twEfE went to death willingly, flying toward it with their beaks in the wind.
“UhU-eO, you murderer!”
The young female that stormed in through the entryway was clad in a simple orange shirt, with a brown vest and beige breeches. Her shout shot over her thrumming wings as she hovered over the floor. Her blurred pinions sputtered as she landed, her toe-claws clicking on the floor.
Extending her arm, she pointed forward with a short staff. On a hunch, EUe lowered his second eyelid, and managed to catch the not-light swirling around the staff just before its tip flared into a plasmic energy spear.
Gasps turned into screams.
Parents grabbed their children and fluttered up through the hole in the middle of the ceiling, into the egg-shaped dining area extruding from the center of the domed roof. Other bystanders huddled against the walls to either side of the room. Near them, the two Gatherers on guard duty trained their eyes on the young female, watching her every move. Meanwhile, everybody else turned to look at the female’s target, especially if they stood near him.
People pulled away from the guy without a second thought.
Death was in the air.
On instinct, EUe tried to make himself less noticeable, not that it had any effect. He lowered his gaze, trying not to look.
Don’t get involved, he told himself. Don’t get involved.
Getting involved was how he’d gotten in this mess in the first place.
UhU-eO—the accused—was a tall fellow, wearing an Utal-a hemmed everywhere except at its collar, where it bore one of those not-quite-as-frilly-as-a-cleric’s-frill-but-still-very-frilly frills were all the rage among the Capital’s high society. UhU-eO’s fluffy gorget feathers made up for his thin neck, while his beak, barely worn away by time, was so long and slender that it seemed to dwarf his beady little head.
“I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” he said. He pressed his hand against chest, jostling about his Utal-a’s wide bell sleeves.
The young female spread her wings like an avenging angel. The plasma churning around her magic spear’s tip crackled with potency. “Don’t lie to me. You are eka-an UhU-eO, of the Chemist’s castebund of hlU-lE-E.”
“That I am,” UhU-eO said. He nodded shakily. “W-What is it to you?”
“A fortnight ago,” the female replied, “you fought my father, hU-lek-E in a duel through trial by combat; it was a dispute over a patent.” The spear trembled in her arm. “He fought honorably, but you… you…—”
“—He fought with brawn,” UhU-eO said, with a sly whistle. “I fought with brains.”
“It was dirty tricks, that’s what!” the girl said. “You—”
“If your father was so confident the chemical was his discovery,” UhU-eO said, “he should have offered more evidence than mere here-say.”
Shrieking with rage, the young female’s wings buzzed to life, hovering her over the ground.
It was clear what she was about to do.
EUe nearly yelled for them to stop, but stopped himself. hUen-dE was one of the Gatherers there on guards on duty, and she was watching both him and the young female like a gU-lUte eyeing its prey. EUe was unfortunate enough to know hUen-dE personally. When they’d first met, as was customary among Gatherers, he’d told her his story. After hearing it, she’d called him a kwekek, and their relationship hadn’t gotten any better since then.
He saw hUen-dE sticking her tongue out at him ever so slightly. She was daring him to intervene.
hUen-dE turned her gaze onto the young female. “Citizen, the results of duels are final. Seeking vengeance after trial by combat goes against the Ecumene’s Cardinal Laws. Beware: if you continue, you will die.”
The crowd tried to bring the female to her senses.
“Don’t do it, kid! You’re throwing your life away!”
“Don’t be a fool!”
EUe stomped his foot on the tile, unable to take it anymore. That’s it!
Flaring his wings out, he stepped forward, sweeping an arm in a broad gesture. “Please, young lady, don’t do this. Take it from me.”
“How can you say that to me, Gatherer?” Her voice broke as she poke. She pointed at her tormentor. “What he did… it’s wrong! It’s wronger than wrong!”
UhU-eO sneered. “What a kwekek thing to say!”
“I’m my father’s daughter!” she said. “I have nectar in my blood.” She turned to EUe. “What do you expect me to do, walk away? Where’s the justice in that?”
EUe genuinely didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t say no, but how could he say yes, either? No matter what he said, it would have been wrong, and that… that paralyzed him.
Meanwhile, UhU-eO ruffled his wings, as if preening himself. “As for your father,” he said, “the bird was a brute. Take my advice, fledgling: you have to be a spear to get far in life: poised and potent, able to strike swiftly and cleanly, without mercy. Had he been more nectar-blooded, maybe he would have been able to hold on to what could have been rightfully his.”
EUe was aghast. His beak hung ajar. “You’re a bastard! You just admitted to stealing her father’s invention! Do you have any honor at all, or all your feathers down?”
“I admit that I won,” UhU-eO replied, “and that that’s all that matters. Why worry, when you can act, instead?” Chirping conceitedly—sticking out his tongue—he turned to the female and looked her in the eye. “Just so that you don’t think me ungracious, if you want, you can duel me, too. I promise I’ll accept it, just as I promise that you’ll die, exactly like your shit-brain of a father!”
He cackled.
The young female shrieked.
There was no doubt in EUe’s mind that UhU-eO had said those words because he’d known the effect they’d have on the girl. With luck, the justice system would see this fop charged and convicted with incitement to murder, and punished accordingly. But there would be no justice for the poor young female who flew at her father’s killer and thrusted her spear at his chest with all the rage that her broken heart could carry.
EUe tried to intervene, first to stop the female, then to stop hUen-dE when he saw her begin to intervene, but hUen-dE proved quicker. It was a simple motion: the Gatherer stepped forward with her hand stuck out and her wings raised. EUe watched through his second eyelids as not-light flared from the dreamshard in hUen-dE's chest. Not-light streamed from her fingers in sinister strands that ensnared the young female. hUen-dE didn’t speak the name of whatever dark god she’d communed to work this magic, but there was no need to.
It began with the female’s eyes. The emotion in those glittering spheres died as they turned to stone. Her mind and soul were the next to go, evaporating as her head mineralized. The rest of her corpse petrified midair, the gray stone spreading along her body outward from her core, toward her extremities. The stray motion in her wingtips broke her flight feathers off as the parts beneath them turned to stone. She was solid rock by the time she hit the floor and shattered into pieces.
And EUe could only stare in horror at what had transpired.
An awkward silence followed, broken only when one of the cashiers opened his beak and said: “Next?”