Azalea shot forward the moment her objective became clear, going slow enough for the others to follow. One issue needed to be resolved as they moved—how would they find the odd intangible Quen’Talrat? Her target escaping was never a problem Azalea had before, and solving it was puzzling.
Her fine blue hair follicles extended again, snaking back to collect the thread she’d cut off before—given the unknown nature of what laid ahead of them, she wanted to conserve as much of her strength as possible, and it would only mitigate a few minutes of her time rather than create more silk.
She analyzed every divot in the granite floor, walls, and ceiling as they moved. Her hearts were pounding within her human breasts, and a smile illuminated her cheeks while skipping ahead. The entire situation made her happy—adventure awaited.
Unlike the previous hallways, everything around her now was infused with Quen’Talrat inscribing technology. It tickled the receptors attached to her silk, giving further insight into the complex network of the maze around her—she couldn’t help but be impressed by the attention to detail.
Spinning in a circle, her large pink eyes scanned the unseen patterns that glinted like stars in the sky to her perception. How beautiful! How Fun! It’s like I’ve entered a new type of web … I’m being tracked, too.
The pressure and apprehension at seeing a white ape—just like Ke’Thra’Ma—had long since passed after the ethereal Quen’Talrat’s insecurities showed themselves.
This was a new creature she couldn’t eat, which was new, but the weird Quen’Talrat had lost control, desperate for aid, and seemingly lost with how to proceed. It all presented a reasonably easy solution in Azalea’s mind; this creature could join the Empress and fall in line with the order.
Communicating through the Nexus to the others, she glanced back at the giant warrior Quen’Talrat she’d brought. Where does this rune-thingy go, Ramuk? It’s like there are little pieces of her everywhere, but I get the feeling that’s no different than my web. Where is her primary body located—oooh, does she have one?
“I am … unsure, General,” the large ape’s reply was conflicted emotions running through the link. “I have never heard of this sort of rune scribing. Ke’Noa’Thra … She has the presence of the Ke, at least in part, but I am doubting myself in regards to her actual authority. Such a position as a Network Overlord Administrator was usually of Captain Rank, yet hosting the title of Ke and claiming to be the White God’s descendent…”
He trailed off, and Azalea’s focus shifted to Giliri as a shiver ran down her frame; she was eying her blue locks that encircled them, giving enough space to continue running and spacing to see ahead. “What even is she … It’s a she, right? You said she wasn’t real?”
Fini’s wet tongue slid through her teeth, and she returned the red liquid she was manipulating around the air back into its pouch. “I can’t even think of that … She was so big! She took up like—like the whole hallway!”
Azalea hummed, lips curving a tad. Not quite as big as Ke’Thra’Ma, but that doesn’t matter.
Her vision settled on Moris’Luar; the five specialists had redoubled their efforts, running after them with purpose now while feverishly communicating to one another.
Something to share? Azalea asked, interrupting their discussion.
Moris’Luar cleared his throat, hands tightening around the handle of the floating cart he was hauling. “General, Menorah is the only one that has heard of anything like this—can you repeat what you were saying?”
Menorah’s green fur bristled as Azalea looked at her, hopping backward in long bursts to keep ahead of the advancing party. “I, umm—umm, General, I was in the mine’s rune scribing group—simple stuff, and this—this stuff is just … beyond my scope of mind, but there were always rumors.”
“Menorah, ahem, if you could get to the point,” Moris’Luar interjected.
She flinched, her left wrist almost buckling from her nervous gestures while running on all-fours; correcting her posture and trying to strengthen her resolve, Menorah licked her jowls. “R-Right, Overseer…”
Azalea didn’t understand these specialists' very timid personalities. She could sense her overthinking things and imagining how she’d be punished for possible misinformation, not providing a good enough explanation, and any number of other worries—essentially, they were all messing with their own heads and sabotaging themselves.
Take your time, Azalea grinned. I just want to know what you know and think about this intangible Quen’Talrat. We need to get her on the Empress’s side.
Giliri and Fini’s lips parted in disbelief.
“She’ll join the Empire?” Giliri mumbled, glancing at her friend as she made a gesture.
“Yeah, will the Empress like that? She’s … kind of … yeah.”
Ramuk hummed. “The Empress must make her submit.”
Azalea shrugged, flipping to the wall; her bare feet tingled from every small sensory pulse the runes made as she touched the stone. She’ll join or be destroyed if she stands in the way—simple as that. Now, c’mon, tell me more about this Quen’Talrat—take a few breaths! she eagerly prompted, knowing the action helped many creatures relax, including her human form.
While they all waited for Menorah to gather her thoughts, Azalea’s eyes shifted to the opposite wall—they were entering more corridors with branching hallways, yet most of them led to dead-ends.
What is this?
Key portions of the many runic pulses that were emitted didn’t respond like the others—there were blind spots and entire lines that felt as if they should react but didn’t.
Menorah followed the order, face set with determination. “I cannot say this is truly accurate information, General. Rune scribers that were sent to the mines were usually failures in one form or another … such as myself, but there were rumors—talking was among our only sources of entertainment.”
Her face fractured a little after criticizing herself. “There was one scribe—a visionary, he called himself. I don’t remember his name—he was new when I was killed. He talked of a new style of Rune Scribing that could create an artificial Quen’Talrat. It sounded so bizarre, but he was building a close circle of followers that swore his new method was—”
Azalea’s smile grew as the swirling mass of energy returned. Shh, I think she’s coming back—he-he-he, or futilely attacking us!
Coming to a stop, the others prepared for an assault. Ramuk posted himself in front of Moris’Luar and his specialists while Giliri and Fini posted by his side, brandishing their liquid weapons.
Azalea prepared her webs, hanging upside down in the air around the height Ke’Noa’Thra would stand with a big grin on her face.
“Welcome back!” she spread her arms and added a ringing chime to her voice.
Ke’Noa’Thra’s imposing presence took shape before them, two heads and eyes shifting to view the web-like environment Azalea had instantly crafted in the ample space. “Thélméthra, your presence is unwelcome! Leave my halls or suffer the consequences; your dirty silk is annoying.”
Appalled, Azalea’s smile turned to a scowl. “Dirty? I am very clean, and so is my silk! Is this one of those false statements I’ve heard some creatures spew? You ran away so fast last time that we couldn’t even talk, and now you’re insulting me?”
The woman’s nostrils flared. “Run? I never run!” she shouted, causing a sharp hum to resonate across the hallway from the stones. “You leave your waste all across my home! I will rip your limbs from your body and hang your dying carcass above the lava to cook for the scourge!”
Ramuk cleared his throat, holding up his four heavily armored arms. “I implore you, Ke’Noa’Thra, we only wish to understand and explain to you the current situation of the Empire!”
Arms folding under her chest, Azalea smirked at the indigent upside-down ape; she could sense the unease of the others below. “If you could exert your authority, you would have done it.”
Giliri shot a nervous chuckle at Fini. “For real? Eh, heh, doesn’t she have those mini silver Quen’Talrat soldiers?”
“Yeah…” Fini hissed, licking her lips. “There were huge piles of them in the rooms we…”
“I never ran from you!” the massive ape snapped. “I am a Goddess! Bow before my glory, you worthless creature, and submit to my dominance!”
Her composure returned, arms tightening behind her back while both pairs of legs flexed against the floor. “I admit, a Thélméthra fiend I can communicate with—and guide—can be of use. Fall in line.”
The two Nalveans and specialists flinched; Azalea wouldn’t be fooled, though—she was coming to her own conclusion to the ethereal ape’s actions thus far—it wasn’t a challenging deduction.
Azalea’s neck tilted to the left, eyes wandering to various locations. “Hmm … Mmh, heh, dominance?” Her vision drifted to a branching hallway ahead of them. “Empty threats when you have half-finished drones dead in the egg. You’re alone. Fatherless. Incomplete, like a daughter without the ability to bear offspring. You need help … Bring your armies.”
Ke’Noa’Thra’s jaws tightened, yet her eyes lost focus at the accusations. “You … tempt a Goddess?” she muttered, seemingly lost at what to do next. “I am…”
“Weak,” Azalea replied, incorporating methods she’d learned from Tiffany when questioning the Ri’bot; identify flaws and exploit. “Why have you not sent your drones? You can’t.”
Slowly lowering herself to the ground, Azalea looked up at the stunned Quen’Talrat as the others watched in disbelief. “You’ve never had anyone refuse you. Right?”
Noses twisting with rage, the imposing figure spread her four arms out in a threatening manner. “I am the daughter of Ke’Thra’Ma! You must obey! I am all-powerful! I am the Conqueror of the Abyss!”
Ignoring her, Azalea turned to Ramuk and the specialists. “Investigate the rooms to our left.”
“No! You … You can’t do that…” Ke’Noa’Thra growled, dancing to the left to press against the side of the wall as Azalea walked through her leg. “I won’t—I won’t let … Remove your webs immediately, you throat licking dirt dweller!” she spat as Azalea maneuvered her silk to restrain the ceiling door from falling into place.
“Pathetic,” Azalea snorted, standing at the entrance and staring up at the pitiful attempt to block her. “The word Goddess is hollow if you hold the title—Menorah.”
A quake ran down Menorah’s frame as she stumbled, whimpering and holding her hands over her head as Ke’Noa’Thra jumped forward to grab her head—it passed right through, leaving the others to blink in surprise.
“No … No! You—You must obey!” she cried, colossal chest heaving as emotions rose within her; her fists balled up as panic set in her eyes. “I’m—I am Ke’Noa’Thra—I’m the daughter of the Ke … All bow before me by his authority … You, of the Silver Plane’s Blood! I order you to assist me!”
Ramuk’s helmet peeled back seemingly on its own, revealing a look of disgust; every word she spoke twisted the warrior’s gut and made Azalea giggle inside. “Order … With what power have you shown to be worth to order an Elite Hunter, such as I? All bow before you by his authority?”
Hot steam shot from Ramuk’s nose. “Did the Ke teach you nothing of our society? Power rules, and if you have none, you are stepped on.”
A quiver ran down her frame at the unintimidated Elite Hunter that she thought would be her ally. “No … I am the Network Overlord Administration—I have power! I am powerful!”
“Words mean nothing to an Elite Hunter,” Ramuk shot back, glare moving to the petrified green-furred woman that had moved around him. “Menorah, the General gave you an order.”
“Y-Yes, Sir!” she squealed, rushing past him.
Ramuk saluted Azalea as she leered at the intangible ape. “My orders, General?”
“General?” Ke’Noa’Thra muttered. “A filthy Thélméthra … orders Elite Hunters?”
Azalea’s bright smile returned, knowing this Artificial Quen’Talrat had excellent senses to identify her while in a human state; she was having so much fun now. “Go with the others and tell me what you find that she doesn’t want us to know about.”
“I’ll squash you!” Ke’Noa’Thra yelled as the others hesitantly moved past the blustering ape that should have put fear in their hearts by her mere presence. “You—You don’t know what I’m capable of! Don’t—Don’t you dare ignore me! Graah!”
Cheeks bunching to the side, Azalea hopped out of their ways, keeping all the doors open as the artificial Quen’Talrat tried to close them. “Feeling more humble?” Azalea asked. “We can help you, but you seem to have a false notion as to who is in control.”
Ke’Noa’Thra’s wide eyes followed the muttering Quen’Talrat mine workers that were doing their best to ignore her and the Nalvean girls beside them. “But … I’m in control. I control the network … Just me. I’m important.”
It sounded like she was trying to convince herself of it rather than Azalea; she wasn’t the best at understanding these types of emotions but studying Camellia’s attitude and motivations for so long had given her a bit of insight into how this hologram must feel. It helped that the humans were so talkative, which gave her further insight into how best to mold this creature.
“Are you going to run away again?” she asked, jumping into the air to land on the long, single strand of silk she’d positioned at Ke’Noa’Thra’s eye level; a connection Moris’Luar made with Menorah caught her attention. “I hope you aren’t scared, NOA. Isn’t that your real name?”
A quake ran down Noa’s frame. “No … I could never be scared—I’m the daughter—no, my name is Ke’Noa’Thra! I’m more than NOA! I’m the Ke’s daughter—made in his image!”
“Oh?” Azalea dropped to her butt on the thread, humming along to the pulsing noises the halls made from Noa’s attempts to use more of the runes around them.
After a time, the mentally collapsing artificial woman’s composure began to break; she couldn’t leave, or she’d be running away, and she couldn’t do anything to harm her. Noa was stuck by her own pride—or was she?
Azalea’s perfect teeth flashed as she leaned to the left, sensing a heavy object rushing through the hallways from the way they’d come. “You found one of your soldiers? Heh, I’m so afraid!” she snickered.
Noa forced a smile, seemingly proud of herself. “I will show you the power of … How?”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Bobbing back and forth, Azalea sent a simple pulse to her silk—five-hundred meters away—the web snaking out to wrap around the small, silvery ape and restrain it upside down by every finger, toe, and tail.
Her grin increased as Menorah connected a few dots in their private conversation; they were in a manufacturing district of the network, which had lost all power—and that wasn’t everything the green ape theorized.
“How?” Azalea laughed, falling back to land cross-legged on a thread below her. “Silly, I’m a second-born Thélméthra Princess. You cannot hope to expect such weak drones to handle me … This Silver Army does resemble the Thélméthra order—drones. Of course, Ke’Thra’Ma must have respected my mother.”
Noa’s knees gave way, and she stumbled against the wall, using it as support, which Azalea took note of; likely due to the runes, she was confined to the boxed in space. “I … control an army—not drones.”
“Do they think? Our drones have some level of autonomy to accomplish their tasks to a more intelligent degree. So, you were created to mirror our society, not the Quen’Talrat’s?”
“I’m not a copy…” she muttered, but there was a whimper underneath her tone; she was breaking down. “My father only took inspiration from your drone system … I’m better—he built me, and he is a God…”
“A dead God,” Azalea corrected. “He wasn’t wrong in wishing to copy our system—gathering resources would certainly improve.”
Noa’s muscles collapsed as she hugged her legs up to her chest, back against the wall; Azalea was playing with the silvery drone by swinging it around the halls. “My father was too weak … He died … My father is dead?”
Azalea’s eyebrows pulled together as the giant ape’s heads lowered to her bulky arms, and she began to cry. Well, an unexpected turn … Menorah, are artificial Quen’Talrat supposed to be able to cry? If they can be angry and sad, I guess it’s not out of the ordinary. Huh.
The green-furred woman gave a mental start at the question. “Cry … You brought her to tears? Umm … I can’t say.”
She was having trouble imagining something resembling their holy god-like figure breaking down into tears. “Eh … you were right, General, the runes in this area are not receiving power, but it is complete—the power was just cut at some point to the source.”
Got it! Keep looking around. I’m having fun talking to Noa; I think we’re becoming friends!
“I … Good luck, General,” Menorah mumbled.
Turning her attention to the uncomfortable Nalvean girls, Azalea said, Giliri, Fini, come and join the talk. Maybe you’ll see some stuff I don’t.
“Eh?” Giliri sucked in a sharp breath, unsure what she could add.
Fini jumped at the opportunity, though. “Oh, okay! What do you want us to do?”
She felt the two jogging back her way while Ramuk guarded the specialists, still disgusted by the way Noa acted. In fairness, Azalea assumed the trembling monstrous ape in front of her could pose a real threat had she had access to her forces. Unfortunately for her, it seemed whatever was affecting the fortress was also in effect here.
She’s crying right now. I think she’s sad that Ke’Thra’Ma’s dead, among other things. She’s powerless at the moment and appears to be alone.
“That’s so sad,” Fini whispered.
Giliri snorted. “Yeah, if she wasn’t a gigantic Quen’Talrat the size of a building!”
Fini seemed to be softening up to Noa. “Is she really a Quen’Talrat, though? You saw how Ramuk treated her—I think she’s just trying to act big and scary because that’s what you have to do as a Quen’Talrat.”
“Good point,” Giliri muttered, coming into view. “Still, you can’t tell me she wouldn’t make juice out of us if she could…”
Fini cleared her throat while slowing underneath Azalea’s swinging form. “Umm, hey, Noa—is it okay to call you Noa?”
She didn’t respond or perhaps didn’t hear the Nalvean, so she repeated herself, raising her voice.
Noa swiftly rubbed her face against her arms to rid herself of the liquid and sniffed loudly; Azalea was impressed by how realistic she was for being created by the Quen’Talrat out of squiggles and strange energy.
“I am … Ke’Noa’Thra…”
Giliri grunted. “Is that what the White Cancer called you?”
The ape’s deep blue eyes lifted to glare at the Nalvean. “The Ke is not a cancer! He is a visionary—the greatest being in existence! He’s my father…” her voice weakened, vision falling to the stone. “He … was my father.”
Fini tried to rub her arm only to have it pass through the image, empathy filling her chest that surprised Azalea as the girl’s fingers flinched; she would have thought the Nalveans would have hated all Quen’Talrat, yet these were basically teenagers of the race that hadn’t lived through that war. “Is Ke’Noa’Thra what your father called you?”
Noa was silent for a time, reflecting on the question. “He … didn’t. He called me Noa … maybe I have overstepped my authority. Is that why he didn’t come back … Was he angry that I called him father? I wish … I just wanted to see him again … but he’s dead now.”
Oh, she’s good! I suppose the stern and then the gentle approach can work, like Tiffany said. How strange.
Giliri released a long stream of air, folding her arms across her chest. “Yeah, I’m not that close to my father. He didn’t think I was strong enough to be a Seaweaver like my mother … I wanted to show him I could do it.”
“Hmm?” Fini shifted to look at her friend. “You told me you wanted to be better than me—didn’t your dad join the Navy?”
Noa’s eyes followed the two Nalvean’s conversation, face scrunched up in confusion at what she was hearing and why it was happening in front of her.
“I mean, can’t both be true?” Giliri grumbled, scratching her scaly side while looking away. “We could have seen him if we got into the Seaweaver Academy in the Capital, but … Yeah, that’s not gonna happen now.”
Fini reached out to rub her friend’s shoulder. “Now that we’re a part of the Empress’s army, we might be able to see him at some point—heh, we have eternity.”
“Eternity?” Noa asked, expression tightening. “Nalveans only live a few centuries at most—the same as Quen’Talrat … You do have a strange biology … Are you Nalveans?”
Azalea gave an internal cheer; they’d hooked her. At the very least, the door was open for conversation. She let the Nalvean girls continue to break down the artificial Quen’Talrat’s barriers while explaining the Empire and Empress Elinor that had taken over Ke’Thra’Ma’s works.
Dozens of topics Noa brought up couldn’t be answered by the girls, at which they turned to her, but Azalea simply replied that the Empress would need to speak to her in order to give a proper response.
The specialists went from room to room, using their instruments on the places Azalea pointed with her thread to investigate. Noa couldn’t even tell they were manipulating the dead spaces in the rooms; her sensory radius seemed to be severely diminished, which was how they’d made it so close without her notice.
Playing with her feet, Azalea hummed a song Tiffany had taught her. Noa’s been trapped inside this cavern without anyone to talk to for a hundred and twenty-three years … She’s lonely and overwhelmed.
Having her join the Empire and support the Empress is more than possible—it’s likely. I just need to keep spinning the web around her little by little to break her superiority down. She requires us to link her purpose to the Empire and that she’s needed … wanted. Time and whatever hardships she’s gone through over the last century have already broken down most of the problematic walls.
She wanted to squeal; the experiments she’d done when younger, allowing her prey to use their ingenuity to try and escape their nest, was nothing compared to the thrill of predicting others and the manipulation Tiffany had taught her.
Ramuk, Azalea called.
“Yes, General?” he responded.
Can you build a connection with Noa? Fini and Giliri have piqued her curiosity, but if she is going to support the Empress, we need to give her a purpose she can accept.
“Mmh…” The Elite Hunter wasn’t excited to speak to Noa. “Excuse me, General, might I speak my mind?”
By all means, Azalea laughed. I don’t understand Quen’Talrat all that well, so illuminate me! I’ll send Giliri to take your post and add Fini to the discussion—the Nalvean seems to be on the same wavelength as this creature.
“That’s the issue, General … I do not believe she is a Quen’Talrat—at least nothing like the false figure of the Ke she tried to show us at the beginning—I feel disgusted by my own emotions at the disgraceful way I presented myself. If she was designed by the Ke, then it was not to be his successor—the audacity of invoicing the Blood Pact when so … weak, infuriates me.”
She could be powerful, Azalea noted, examining her blue fingernails with a small smile. Her strength appears to be cut off at the moment.
“Strength?” he snorted, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at the wall as Azalea pointed the specialists to another dead zone to examine. “Relying on puppets is not strength to me, General! You have true power! Amra’Cora herself has recognized you as her superior—the Daughter of Ka’Roga’Amra!”
Mhm. Azalea began playing with the metal Quen’Talrat like a puppet, making it dance down the halls to her manipulation—the action seemed to draw Noa’s scowl. By the way, I thought Quen’Talrat took the names of their mothers. Why is Amra’Cora not Amra’Roga?
“It’s … complicated,” Ramuk muttered. “I request to divert such a question to my Commander if it is acceptable.”
Meh, it’s just a passing thought, Azalea absently replied, smiling at the success of making the stalwart soldier uncomfortable. In any case, I require you to work with Fini to bring Noa closer to what the Empress needs.
“Right away, General,” he said without hesitation, even if he didn’t enjoy the prospect. “I will handle it as a Quen’Talrat unless directed otherwise. Is that acceptable?”
Taking a leaf from Tiffany, Azalea responded, I don’t care how it’s accomplished; results are all that matters to me. Bring her to our side however you see fit.
“Thank you, General. I will not fail you.”
She watched in fascination as Giliri hesitantly walked away, glancing back at her waving friend and the confused Noa.
“Where is she…” Noa’s jaws snapped shut as Azalea sensed Ramuk change directions from down the hallway, walking toward them; the rune-made Quen’Talrat was able to multitask and view other parts of the maze while engaging them.
Fini tried to keep up the pace, holding her hands in front of her while smiling at the large artificial Quen’Talrat. “Umm, she’s just following orders. We were talking about the power outage in the fortress, so … is that happening here, too?”
Noa’s suspicious blue eyes lifted to Azalea’s swinging form, high above them; her lax, sitting position against the wall straightened before she rose to her feet. “I’ll admit that a lot of what you have said has intrigued me, Fini … So much has changed, and the damage caused by this Sari’aél creature is … troubling, but I am a Quen’Talrat!”
Hmm? Azalea’s glowing pink eyes met them without hesitation. She was totally lax and enthralled by Fini, but her attitude changed when she sensed Ramuk returning. She’s putting on an act for him. This is hilarious! I wish I had something to eat … Some of those bug corpses might not taste half bad…
Her attention shifted to Ramuk as the intimidating, fully armored Elite Hunter entered the hallway; heavy shockwaves from each step made Fini’s throat constrict while following the ape’s path.
He stopped in front of Noa, and even this massive Quen’Talrat specimen was dwarfed by the sheer statue of Noa’s posturing form.
“What do you want, Gray Blood?” Noa growled.
Ramuk looked like a child in front of the eight-limbed figure yet didn’t shrink. “What is power to you?”
“A-Azalea?” Fini tentatively asked in private.
Play along or interrupt if you see fit. I want her to open up to us. You drew her interest. Now we need to break down the walls you were unable to chip.
“Mmh … Okay, but I think she’s just hurt. She lost her father and thinks he abandoned her once the war started since he never called on her—at least, I’m pretty sure that’s what she feels.”
We’ll see.
Noa’s muscular chest flexed while shaking out her trunk-like arms and broad shoulders. “To put all under your heel—is this the question an Elite Hunter should be asking—can you even call yourself that after abandoning the Ke?”
Ramuk’s nose twisted furiously as he slammed his fist against the wall beside her, causing more shockwaves to ripple across the ground; surprisingly, it held against the powerful kinetic force he’d generated. “What do you know of the war? You didn’t even know it existed until a Nalvean child gave you her perspective!”
Noa’s gut tightened a fraction at the response, yet the Elite Hunter wasn’t done.
“The Ke fought Azalea’s family and sustained grave injuries,” her blue eyes lifted to settle on Azalea—who gave a cheery wave—before returning to Ramuk’s anger-filled eyes. “What does that tell you?”
Azalea connected a thread to her feet and fell back to hold her hands behind her back, hanging upside down again; it was a more comfortable position for her given the topic that made her skin tingle. What does it tell me … Violet was wrong. We were only in Mother’s way and couldn’t fight at the same level … We failed as daughters.
She wasn’t expecting Ramuk to draw up her own feelings, but they struck at her heart. Ke was powerful, and they knew that—they should have had more faith in their mother, though, and that was what burned Azalea’s chest.
A growl resonated in Noa’s throat as she looked away. “That they’re strong … The Ke was stronger! Wait … if they were brought back to life … Was the Ke?”
The sour taste in her mouth drowned out the joy she’d experienced moments before; it reminded her of Camellia’s own plight—she could only imagine how Violet felt by being the instigator, yet they all went along with it. Wrong … Mother was stronger … We killed our mother.
She could hear Ramuk’s teeth grinding together. “Who are you to even talk to me? If you want an answer—make me. I understood after I met the Thélméthra Queen—I know why the Ke respected the Thélméthra Queen. But I cannot—by the Ke—I cannot see why he would respect you.”
Noa’s posture faltered as his words sunk in, vulnerability appearing in her blue eyes. “I … am tied up—my hands are tied! If I was not already preoccupied with the invasion, then I would crush you with my Silver Army—”
Ramuk’s jaws opened in a ferocious roar that locked Fini’s muscles and made Noa step back in shock. “Weak! Excuses! The Ke would never put his faith in anything but his own hand! Silver Army? What a disgrace! If you cannot take my tails and rip them from my backside—if you cannot take my heads and smash them to pulp between your fingers, then you have no right to be anything but trash beneath my feet!”
He took a step forward, radiating a heatwave as gray flames cloaked his body and forced Fini away, still too shocked to respond, and Noa appeared to be affected by the display, as well. “You are no Quen’Talrat! Whatever the Ke built you for, it was not for war, which is why you were never called upon—bah, Silver Army … You were built for manufacturing—labor! A slave to provide tools for the real warriors and army! Know your place!”
Tears welled up in Noa’s eyes as she tripped and fell to the ground. “No … No, I-I am the Ke’s daughter … He loved me…”
“Love?” Ramuk roared with laughter. “The Ke loved the strong—he loved me! You … If he saw you, he’d see nothing but disappointment—failure to be stopped out and eradicated!”
Fini tripped, falling on her tail. “W-Wait, Ramuk … That’s…”
“I’m—my father loved me! You’re wrong! H-He named me … I’m not—I’m not a slave—a simple machine…” Expectedly, the crying thirty-foot-tall ape vanished.
Azalea refrained from smiling as she projected her thoughts to Ramuk and Fini. Perfectly executed.
“Huh?” Fini slowly got back to her feet as Ramuk’s aura faded. “I don’t … That really hurt her, Azalea … I wouldn’t want to help someone if they said all those things to me.”
A sharp puff of compressed air shot through Ramuk’s nose as he folded his arms, glaring at the wall. “The point was to show her she is no Quen’Talrat and not a daughter of the Ke—disgusting,” he growled. “No, she was built to be a slave, and she needed to be stripped of her delusions.”
Mhm! Azalea chimed. And now, we bait her back with something sweet. Fini! You’re up!
“What … am I supposed to do?” Fini asked in bewilderment.
Azalea lowered herself to the ground, holding her hands behind her back to face the much taller reptilian woman. Bait her with your words. You’ve shown a surprising amount of empathy to the creature, which is a tool Ramuk nor I have. Sympathize with her, but be honest, and see what it will take for her to serve the Empress. There must be something she wants.
Sweat appeared on Fini’s brow as the stress of her assignment struck her chest, generated by her own emotional state. “I’ll … do my best, General. Should I just … wander around and look for her?”
Looking down the hallway, Azalea wet her lips. Two corridors to our right is a place that should be secluded enough. We’ve already seen she knows where we are in her network. Call out to her and do the empathy thing. She’ll respond … At least, that’s what I assume based on her reactions—shockingly, they’re rather organic.
“Humph,” Ramuk’s nose twisted. “Not Quen’Talrat. She must be based on another creature—the Yaltha’ma come to mind.”
Azalea’s head tilted to give him a slight grin. Mmh, no, not quite like those simple creatures. She doesn’t have the same mannerisms. I’d say closer to Nalvean or human, so far. In any case, we need her cooperation and subservience to the Empress.
“Okay…” Fini took a deep breath before letting it out in a hiss. “I’ll do my best.”
She got two steps before another thought crossed Azalea’s mind. Oh, and learn more about this war she’s supposedly been fighting with those carcasses we passed. She needs support … We can offer that, given the proper circumstances.
“Right … Mmh, yeah, I’ll see if I can learn more about that … Well, if she even wants to talk to me,” she muttered, rubbing her side while walking away.
Azalea could feel her mind working frantically at what direction she should take; she honestly wanted to help the artificial Quen’Talrat, which stemmed from some kind of experience. I look forward to your results; call if you need help!