“I hate Earthrealm.” The Vunerian repeated once more, this time louder, and with greater conviction.
Those words resonated at odds with the calm, and otherwise uncompromising serenity of the projection around us. In a sense, falling flat against the completely unassuming atmosphere, consisting primarily of the clear and high-pitched harmonics of the wind chimes, the rustling of the leaves of this rooftop park, and accompanied by the occasional interruption courtesy of the hustle and bustle of the city echoing far below and above us.
The annoyed and disgruntled glare of the lupinor directed towards the deluxe kobold more or less cemented the inappropriate mismatch of words, and quickly demonstrated that not all were on the side of the Vunerian in his resolve.
“You stand against everything The Nexus upholds.” He continued unabashedly, unconcerned by the lupinor or any of the expressions he threw his way.
“How so, Ilunor?” I shot back questioningly, redirecting the flow of the conversation to something that might finally gauge the success of this whole Cross-Cultural Information Dissemination Exercise, and determining once and for all if the Vunerian had finally crossed the Information Dissemination Overflow Threshold.
Or, for lack of a better term, if he’d gone full IDiOT. Though, the diplomatic corps and their associated academics back at home preferred to keep the acronym to the more professional IDOV threshold, for reasons of ‘maintaining academic register’.
“How so?” He parrotted back in an indignant, almost condescending tone of voice. “How so?!” He repeated, guffawing out a barely contained nervous laugh. “Where do I even begin?! As a state, you are structured the wrong way up. As a polity, you are absurd. As an institution, you are seditious. And ultimately, as a civilization? You are preposterous. You are facilitated solely by mana-less contraptions that exist to mimic and parallel that which is the exclusive right of those preordained by fate and the hands of the eternal truths. You are a realm of madness, fueled by nothing but spite against your own mortal limitations, and-”
“-succeeding in spite of it.” Thalmin interrupted with a self-satisfied chuckle, crossing his arms as he just about cautioned himself against leaning his weight against a tree. Despite that, he still effortlessly loomed over the Vunerian. “Or, more accurately to the themes of this whole venture, succeeding because of it.”
“Success is not just measured by the raw potential for creation, or the matching of capabilities, but by the longevity by which they are able to persevere.” Ilunor rebutted promptly, prompting me to finally reenter the fray with a self-satisfied smile brimming underneath my helmet.
“Success or not, you agree then, that this… sight-seeing experience has been quite eye-opening?” I couldn’t help but to let out that little pun, if only to cool things down somewhat, as well as to provide for an off-ramp to the point I was leading up to.
“Eye opening, for all the wrong reasons, Earthrealmer.” Ilunor muttered out, not once shifting in his convictions, which could only mean one thing…
The presentation worked.
“For reasons that we can continue to work on in the future, I imagine. I’m certain you still have quite a few questions-'' I began offering, before being cut off by Thacea, and surprisingly the EVI, at just about the same time.
“-and not enough time to address them at present.” Thacea interjected, pulling out her timepiece, as if to emphasize her point.
[Suggestion, Cadet Booker: disengage from instigating another line of questioning that could potentially lead to a no-win Cross-Cultural Information Dissemination (CCID) failure.]
Both, surprisingly, were suggestions that led me to the same conclusion I was headed down anyway.
A conclusion that even the Vunerian himself had preempted, if his response was of any indication.
“I do.” Ilunor stated in no uncertain terms. “And I expect more next time as well. Especially from that.” He pointed at a few of the space planes rocketing across the skies, as well as the more visible intra-city VTOL craft that meandered from rooftop platform to rooftop platform.
The fact that he’d never once raised the issue of falsification or fakes following the walk through the city was a massive unspoken win.
The fact he’d moved the goalpost further along, now raising fundamental issues with how earthrealm works, rather than outright doubting earthrealm’s existence, meant that whilst the Vunerian hadn’t blatantly admitted it, he was now firmly in the believer camp. Although with a lot of personal grievances, and plenty of reservations over everything his mind had now accepted as truth.
Though, the final say on that success could only be made by the raw and unfiltered logical machine that was the EVI.
“EVI, how are we looking?”
“Information Dissemination Overflow crisis with [Ilunor] has been averted, Cadet Booker. Moreover, Information Dissemination Overflow thresholds with [Thalmin, Thacea] are calculated to be within acceptable ranges. This Cross-Cultural Information Dissemination exercise is within the acceptable margins of success, calculated to be within a standard deviation of 0.02 as per SIOP CCID models.”
“Thanks, EVI.”
“Addendum, prior suggestion remains active.”
“Understood, I’m disengaging now before I spoil the pot with too much of a good thing.”
With a final affirmative beep from the EVI, I turned towards Ilunor with a confident nod. “I look forward to being grilled on anything else you have on your mind, Ilunor. For now, just take notes or something until the next sight-seeing session. I’m sure you’ll find something to like, or at least, something to not hate.” I offered in that same polite, diplomatically inclined tone of voice, prompting the Vunerian to simply nod all the while responding with an impudent huff.
“I highly doubt I shall find anything worthy of fondness, Earthrealmer.”
“The fondness shall be in watching Nexian sensibilities be tested, I should say.” Thalmin chimed in cockily.
Ilunor didn’t take the bait, thankfully. Which prompted me to finally end this whole thing with another snap of my fingers, and a little blurb of caution to the group. “You might feel a bit woozy with this being the first time, so just make sure to stare at the ground for a few short seconds as the projection winds down.” I offered politely, as the world around us slowly faded away to a featureless white, before breaking down chunk by chunk, until all that remained was the reality around us - the rotating ‘arms’ of the projector, and the blackout tarp just beyond it.
Everyone remained uncharacteristically silent as the machine wound down, and the whirring of the motors rang out in that titular whoooooshhhhhh before dying down with a satisfying ka-thunk, locking in place, ready for disassembly.
At around the same time, a small ding at the top right hand corner of my HUD suddenly made the existence of a new collapsible folder known, and my two-second gaze was all the prompting it needed to simply explode.
Revealing what amounted to a nestled death-stack worth of notifications that’d been subtly hidden from view up to this point.
Most, or rather, all of them being mana radiation warnings that had either been muted by my orders earlier, such as during my confrontation with the dean, or warnings that had occurred after the fact without my prompting.
The most notable of which being the latest blip of mana radiation, corresponding to the start of my little presentation.
“EVI?”
“I have taken preemptive measures to minimize the disruptive effects of mana-radiation notifications on your operations, Cadet Booker. Following prior prompting, I have begun the process of categorizing and subsequently delineating pertinent radiation warnings from warnings of a lower-threat categorization threshold.”
“Right.” I responded. “It’s part of your user-adaptive mission profile, right?”
“Affirmative.”
“Okay then, next time, prompt me before changing something like that.”
“Affirmative, Cadet Booker.”
“Quick question, Thacea.” I finally sprung up, just as the group was beginning to leave the confines of the blackout tent.
“Yes, Emma?”
“Have you been projecting those… privacy fields this entire time?”
“Yes, is there an issue in-”
“No, no. Just checking.” I acknowledged, prompting Thacea to crane her head in confusion for just a moment as I mentally took stock of that little development.
We eventually found ourselves out of the little blackout tent, arriving in a room that was comparably dark, if only because the sun had finally set following the amount of time we’d spent in-sim.
“Wow.” I began with a small chuckle. “I hadn’t expected to pull another one of those so soon. I half thought that I’d left dawn-to-dusk immersive gaming sessions behind when I stepped through that portal. I guess life has a way of bringing back your hobbies in roundabout ways huh?”
“Immersive experiences and hobbies for that matter, can have a way of eating away at your time.” Thalmin responded with a matching chuckle, skipping the off-handed gaming comment altogether, all the while stretching his arms and bending his torso from side to side.
“Speaking of immersive experiences, I would like to point out that future presentations won’t come without a price.” I continued with a certain sly look on my face, not that any of the gang could see it. “My mission, or rather, what my people have always intended my mission to be is one of cross cultural exchange. Exchange being the operative word here. I came here in order to foster relations, and to learn. So, if you guys are up for it, I’d love to see and hear more of your worlds, your unique cultural perspectives, and your ways of life.” I quickly added, defusing the rather ominous statement I started out with.
Thalmin was the first to react to this with a look of genuine surprise, followed by a smile, and a look of appreciation that seemed sudden but not entirely out of place. “That can be arranged.” He announced confidently, followed by a nod from the princess, and a shrug of acknowledgement from Ilunor.
“But why?” Ilunor shot back emphatically, before just as quickly closing the gap by making it clear that the question was nothing but rhetorical in nature. “Do you see your realm as so lacking in culture, that you would wish to learn from those who have clearly succeeded where you have fallen short?”
“No, Ilunor, that’s not it at all.” I replied with a tired breath. “My people are simply curious, and with this being as close to the next and final frontier for my kind, it’s only natural that I want to learn more at every given opportunity. Speaking of which, I was actually planning on making this a weekly tradition of sorts. A means of strengthening the bond between our peer group, and perhaps our realms.” I offered, once again, propping up an off-ramp for the conversation. A conversation that Ilunor was clearly trying to incite conflict within, fostered by his current progress on the five stages of grief, with denial now firmly passed, and anger currently out on full display.
“A weekly tradition eh?” Thalmin pondered with a rub of his chin, before nodding soon after. “I can most certainly commit to that idea.”
“If only to see more of what this realm of debauchery has to offer, to see the cracks slowly form in the facade of your unsightly creations, then I tentatively subscribe to these terms; without the ties that bind.” Ilunor followed shortly thereafter.
Which now left Thacea, who simply let out a polite sigh. “I do not hold anything against such a venture, Emma. However, I wish to emphasize the fact that this arrangement must be non-committal in nature. As when factoring in both our academic, and personal duties, this exercise in cross-cultural exchange should be considered an addendum rather than a fixed goal.”
“So a sidequest between our major questlines, gotcha.” I acknowledged with an understanding nod, prompting Thalmin to cackle somewhat, and Thacea to simply stare back at me with little in the way of acknowledgement, as if waiting for me to tackle it in greater severity. “In all seriousness, I completely understand, Thacea. I know we have both the house choosing ceremony and the town trip for school supplies coming up this weekend.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Coupled with your quest for the amethyst dragon, and Ilunor’s library debts, it would seem as if we have a week that should prove to be challenging to start off with.” She quickly added, reminding me more of the EVI now with the relentless reminder of responsibilities I still had to tackle with.
“Alright. Well, should an opening in our time slots emerge, we’ll finagle in our weekly exchanges. But until then, our duties come first. Is that okay with everyone?” I announced, eliciting a firm nod from all parties.
“And on that note, I believe it is time that we all finally retire for the night.” Thacea politely added, once again pulling out her timepiece for added effect. A little mana notification ping quickly made itself known in the newly-created folder on the corner of my HUD, a new feature the EVI had seemingly made in response to my earlier confrontation.
“I agree, this entire venture into the obscene has gone on for long enough.” Ilunor promptly announced, before turning tail and prancing towards the door with a flourish of his mauve cape. “I bid you goodnight, Princess Dilani.” He gave a typical closing nod to his fellow noble then turned to acknowledge me with a look of tired and begrudging acknowledgement. "And you, Cadet Emma Booker. This has been… a conflicting state of affairs to say the very least, and I wish for my noble sleep prior to tomorrow’s classes.”
The little blue thing left with an expected slam of the door, prompting Thalmin to follow shortly thereafter, but not before turning towards both me and Thacea with a confident smile. “Whatever happens next, I wish to reaffirm my commitment to this peer group, and the special arrangements we have made. I look forward to seeing how this week progresses, Emma. And I thank you, Thacea, for having kept a careful overwatch over all the proceedings thus far. Goodnight, and may the guiding light of hunter’s wisdom stay your hand with the teachings of the hunt. Afis Fita.”
And just like that, we were once again alone. The expected return of the whirring of my machines never manifesting, all thanks to Thacea’s noise suppressing magic.
A brief sigh only audible within my helmet punctuated that bout of silence, as exhaustion from that continuous hours-long presentation on humanity suddenly hit me with the force of a truck.
“Emma.” I heard the familiar chirp of Thacea’s more informal tone of voice bubbling to the surface, breaking through that layer of exhaustion as I felt compelled to respond without a second thought.
“Yes, Thacea?”
“There is a matter I wish to discuss with you.” She stated politely, a regalness coloring her voice with an authoritative undertone, prompting me to nod and follow as she plopped herself on the couch at the edges of the blackout tent. “The projection you presented, and the manaless wonders shown within, are but a glimpse and nothing more I’m assuming?”
“Yes.” I nodded promptly. “But there’s a reason for that. What I introduced the pair to, and to an extent yourself as well Thacea, was a crash course on our realm’s history. It was, decidedly, reductive by nature.” I acknowledged, prompting the avinor to nod once in reply, as she gestured for me to continue. “But given the sheer breadth and depth of my world’s history, I had to start somewhere, even if that somewhere was a relatively narrow sliver. I did at least try my best to capture what I believed were some of the best, but also most mundane elements, my world had to offer.”
“And yet your best and mundane was, by every measure, a perfect counter to the crownlands proper.” Thacea responded with a stark sense of firmness, before leading off into another tangent. “But that is beside the point. The matter I wish to raise is something that lurks beyond the obvious. We have a saying in my realm, Emma. A saying that doesn’t necessarily translate to High Nexian, but that I feel is fitting of this conversation. For as rich and as expansive as the blue skies above are to those of the flighted flock, so too does a richer and perhaps even more expansive world exist just beneath the waves which reflect it. This saying stems from those of my kind, the other races of my own species that are capable of diving deep beneath the waves; in the northern kingdoms, and in the coastal constituent principalities. There, they tell tales of great beasts, and unseen wonders lurking just below where the light cannot penetrate. I have a feeling that this old adage applies to our current situation, Emma. For there exists so much more far beneath the depths where the light cannot penetrate. Or, in your case…” The princess’ voice shifted, her eyes now piercing straight to my own. “... where the boundaries of the skies themselves cease.”
I knew where this was going, and I had no intention of halting the inevitable.
“I assume you are referring to the long thin strip visible from beneath the skies of the projection?”
Thacea’s eyes momentarily lit up at this. “Correct, Emma.” Thacea acknowledged, seemingly satisfied at my frankness, her expressions always seeming to be relieved with each passing response. As if a lifetime of wishy washy expectant decorum conversations had probably predisposed her to assuming that every response and every question was bound to be a meaningless serving of word soup. “For there exists no natural phenomenon, no matter how bizarre, especially in a mana-less world without magic and its associated anomalies, that can explain away an object looming just beyond the reaches of the skies. And for such a structure to exist, to remain aloft the heads of untold millions, implies there must be something far greater at work. So tell me, Emma. What exactly was up there beyond the reaches of the heavens? What has your kind done to have changed, perhaps in permanence, the very sightlines above your heads?”
“You recall what I told the library, right?”
“That your kind has, and I quote: raced to expand across the heavens? That you have likewise taken your tentative first steps across the stars? That your kind’s destiny was always to cross the distance of oceans? Whether that be oceans of water or oceans of stars?” Thacea, surprisingly, parroted back everything I had spoken of to the librarian, prompting me to momentarily pause out of a sense of shock at her picture-perfect recall ability. “Am I to assume that this thin gray line is but a stepping stone in that venture?”
“It is, Thacea. Or well, it was built well after we took our first firm steps on our stellar back yard.”
“So you acknowledge then, that this fixture above the skies is in fact a structure of your making?” She reiterated, as if trying to overcome the sheer disbelief still welling beneath the surface.
“Yes. But honestly, it’s a bit clearer and considerably more obvious at night. The projections were locked to daylight for a reason, and it was to avoid the other two becoming a bit too curious about something they might find difficult to believe at first. Especially when given everything else they had to acknowledge.”
“That was a wise decision on your part, Emma.”
“So with that being said… Do you want to see our skies at night? Just for a bit, before getting some well deserved sleep?”
A small pause once more punctuated the conversation, as Thacea’s eyes deliberated this offer with precise intent, following it up in short order with the only appropriate response to such an offer. “I believe we have half an hour to spare, yes.”
----------------------------------------
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30, Ilunor and Thalmin’s Bedroom. Local Time: 21:20 Hours.
Thalmin
I’d left Emma and Thacea’s apartment, and more specifically that sight-seer experience, with a certain level of… disbelief.
Shock, for all intents and purposes, welled within me. But that was nothing if not tempered by a newly found resolve to consider the potentials of a contrarian worldview that prompted me to question everything I knew.
That feeling of smallness was, simply put, never followed up on. For unlike those crownlands visits via sight-seer, there was no expectant followup. No acknowledgement of superiority, no humbling acts of fealty. There was nothing from the Nexian playbook of browbeating following a superior show of force. In fact, there was the exact opposite.
A desire to exchange further information.
As if my realm had any that could truly matter to what earthrealm had to offer.
Yet despite that, the offer was there, genuine, and without any strings attached.
Something the Nexus would never do.
Something the Nexus would consider poor play by their rulebook.
These thoughts, and more, were however rudely interrupted by the small blue thing exiting the bathroom clothed in a series of exorbitantly priced robes, as he turned towards me, whilst plopping himself against a couch two sizes too large for him.
Still, it looked as if it was made for him given how comfortable he seemed atop its plush adornments.
Yet that comfort seemed to do little to ease the frustrations of what was clearly welling within. Frustrations which eventually bubbled to the surface in the form of what the little blue thing was known for.
Whining.
“The absolute gall of that newrealmer to have taken it upon herself to… to…”
“To purport the truth of a world that dares challenge Nexian primacy by virtue of their mere existence?”
“I beg your pardon, Prince Thalmin?”
“You heard me, and you saw it too, did you not?”
“All I saw were spiteful testaments belonging to a race that knew not their own limitations. Wanting for more, constructing a travesty, refusing reason, and embracing madness.”
“And yet despite it all, they surpassed those limitations without so much as the usage of a single vial of mana.” I stated bluntly, prompting the Vunerian to go silent, which I took to my advantage for my own amusement. “I wonder then… since Earthrealm is in so many ways comparable to the illustriousness of the crownlands, how may this affect the balance of powers? For if primacy is proven to be faulty, then what becomes of the status eternia-”
“You will halt any such seditious postulations, Prince Thalmin.”
“But what if, Ilunor?”
“Then what you speak of is the final confrontation.”
“The what?”
Those words seemed to frustrate the Vunerian, as he responded with an irksome gaze. “The arrival of this foreign culture, born of foreign constraints, nurtured in the auspices of foreign patrons, bringing about fundamental axiomatic shifts that would threaten the eternal sanctity of civilization. The manner in which you are describing earthrealm, and the disruption which you speak of, would place them firmly into the role of the adversary, the great other.”
“If that is what I speak of, then I suppose it may very well be the destiny of Earthrealm, Lord Rularia.” I acknowledged, humoring the Vunerian with a dry chuckle.
“This is not a laughing matter, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor rebutted immediately, not allowing for a moment of dead silence to hang in the air. “What I speak of is a true prophecy, an… inconvenient truth.” He reiterated, prompting me to reassess his entire angle as my perspective shifted from merely humoring the Vunerian, to actively listening to his newfound points. “So I ask, do you, or do you not believe Earthrealm to be capable of challenging the status eternia?”
“Would the existence of a realm that rivals the crownlands in almost every metric, without the aid of mana, arriving as a newrealm with no contact to the greater community, be considered a challenge to Crownlands Primacy, Ilunor?”
The Vunerian paused for a moment, before begrudgingly, agreeing with a slight hiss. “Yes.”
“And would a challenge to primacy, equate to a challenge to the Status Eternia?”
“The former does not always lead to the latter, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor responded reflexively, if only to pause and reassess his statement. “But if you are insinuating that to be the case, then I am assuming your answer to my question is that Earthrealm is in fact, capable of challenging the status eternia.”
“Your words, Lord Rularia.” I responded diplomatically. “Not mine.”
“In which case, I must ask you then, Prince Thalmin…” Ilunor trailed off, his features shifting from a contemptuous look of frustration, to one that could be tentatively described as thoughtful.
“Yes?” I urged the Vunerian. “Please get on with it, Ilunor.”
“I wish to know where you stand when the calls for apocalypse summon the righteous, Prince Thalmin?” The Vunerian announced completely out of nowhere, taking me by surprise, but that was more than likely the intent of that abrupt shift in subject matter. “I wish to know, should your assertions bear truth, and should the newrealm move from a position of a mere contemporary to one of an active adversary - where shall your loyalties lie?”
“My loyalties shall forever lie with my people, my family, and my kin, Lord Rularia.”
“And should Earthrealm propose an offer for an alternative to the status quo?”
“My loyalties shall remain the same. I will do what is best for my people. That is the end of the matter, Lord Rularia.” I answered with a tempered tone of voice, memories from the proving den resurfacing to grant me the instincts to play the role of the measured diplomat once more.
“A diplomat’s answer.” Ilunor scoffed. “I cannot blame you, Prince Thalmin. But be warned, there are consequences to those that disrupt the tempo of the status eternia.”
I ignored that empty threat completely, circumventing it with a question that was poised to strike deep into the heart of the Vunerian himself. “And what of you, Lord Rularia? Where will you stand should the calls for apocalypse divide the realms once more?”
The Vunerian, surprisingly, went quiet.
Whether it was his shock at my question, or whether this was him actually giving the question pause for thought, was anyone’s guess.
The surprising fact was that the latter was even a possibility in the first place.
“With civility, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor finally responded with a resolute breath. “With civilization, and the side that stands for the protection of what we have built. For despite what my words and my actions might lead you to believe, I genuinely do subscribe to the axioms of civilization. I will not allow the sacrifices of my ancestors to be in vain, Prince Thalmin. So whatever happens next, be it in a week, a month, a year, or a decade, remember that the decisions we make today, will ultimately carry on through to the descendants of tomorrow. The unbroken chain shall remain unbroken.”
“Hence why you are shackled by the past, Lord Rularia.” I replied back with a hushed breath. “Remember that the tempo of history is not truly eternal. Your kind were once servants, today you are rulers, what might tomorrow bring? Greater heights? Or depreciating depths? As you said, Ilunor. We are at a crossroads. Perhaps now is the time to choose your standing, and the manner in which you conduct yourself following these disruptions in the tempo of eternity.”
A great silence befell us once more, as Ilunor seemed to actually ponder my words.
It was around that same time that I too started thinking long and hard on the implications of Ilunor’s supposed ‘prophecy’, and for a few short moments… I actually began to ponder the possibilities of Earthrealm’s palpable challenge over the claim of Nexian primacy.
“This has been… an interesting night, for all of us I imagine; Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor began, as he got back to his feet, placing both hands behind his back in perfect posture. “I hope you will consider my words and the warnings which lie therein, with the severity it deserves, as I know deep within those layers of fur lies a man of civility. But for now, I bid you a restful night.” The Vunerian quickly scampered after that, up the stairs, and towards his bed.
This left me with a series of newfound questions I hadn’t anticipated, all culminating in one single thought that summed up this entire night well.
What happens next?