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Theocratic-Monarchy: SunSide
21st Day of Month 6, Year 1628 DG
Through the treated glass of the window wall, Ona and Lona surpass the horizon, bringing fresh morning light into the world.
Saith holds a small blue book in his hands and blinks rhythmically at the blank pages. With every blink, words travel from his thoughts and appear in ink, completing the MegaFather’s schedule.
Zar-Lo slumps on the ore chair behind his desk, his thick hand covering his eyelids.
Saith closes the small book and slowly begins to walk toward him. “How frequent are they now?”
Zar-Lo moves his hands from his eyes and slowly straightens up in the chair. “Fairly constant.”
“I’m sorry, Father.”
“I’m not,” Zar-Lo responds. “I’ll endure the pain as long as the ancient ones maintain patience.”
Saith reaches the platform and ascends the stairs. “What happens when they lose it?”
“The headaches subside. Their voices become clear. They demand the sacrificial offering in person.”
“Has that happened before?”
Zar-Lo shakes his head. “I have never, and will never, let that happen. If they arrive at my doorstep, no one will survive. The only thing standing between this world and annihilation”—he turns to gaze at his kingdom through the window wall—“is me.”
“They will have their sacrifice, Father. I’ll begin production of the changeling at once.”
Zar-Lo turns back to Saith. “How do you expect to do so without the girls?”
“We’re close to finding them. Nivyan Hollow is not vast enough to provide refuge for longer than a few days. Bravers swarm new forest communities daily.”
The doors of the Theater swing open forcefully and Vy-Ro, sweating profusely, rushes in. His weapons clang erratically against his ore armor. He quickly makes a circle with his fingers and throws it loosely up against his forehead.
“Quite the intrusion,” Saith admonishes as they watch Vy-Ro approach. “Entering the Theater without a knock.”
“I assure you,” Vy-Ro gasps, trying to catch his breath, “this cannot wait for a knock. Alba and another Librarian were seen in a small village at the outskirts of MoonSide yesterday. They spent the night there and will be journeying to SunSide this morning.”
Zar-Lo’s spine stiffens. The Librarian’s timing couldn’t be worse. He turns to Saith, whose expression contorts with concern. “If Alba reaches SunSide, you know where she’ll go first.”
Saith nods. “Saila.”
The MegaFather’s heart drops into his stomach. “Are you confident your offspring will keep the contents of the Final Act to herself?”
“Saila was born unpredictable, rebellious. She’ll honor her word and announce it to the general public after the interim, but to her closest friend?” He sighs. “Unlikely.”
“Then Alba must be stopped. She cannot find out about the Assembly’s plans.”
Saith’s brow furrows. “How can I stop her without violating the statutes that protect her from detention?”
Zar-Lo’s gaze travels down to Saith’s shoulder, and back to his eyes again. The implication of the gesture emerges on the Facilitator’s expression. The pixie’s words from the night of the reading hang in the space between them.
I will do anything you ask. I can prove myself.
“Do anything, Saith. You have to persuade her to turn back. She can’t be detained, but she can be deterred.”
“She’s crossed the Red-Lo, Father; she’s likely been traveling for two days. It won’t be easy to persuade her to forfeit that journey.”
Zar-Lo’s tone hardens as his frustration builds. “Saith, you have to do this. Your daughter is about to implicate me in her assassination two nights before it happens.”
“F-father,” Vy-Ro stammers out.
Zar-Lo unsuccessfully attempts to temper his rage.“What?!” His voice booms around the room so powerfully, the heavy ore desk rattles before him.
Vy-Ro clears his throat. “Not two nights. Tonight. When you gave me this assignment, you told me ‘the sooner, the better.’ You wanted breathing room. Well, they’re ready. Now.”
Zar-Lo turns back to Saith. “Alba will be in SunSide during the assassinations.”
“After meeting with Saila,” Saith responds, “she’ll retire to the diplomat’s chambers in the Castrum. When the havoc breaks with the dawn, she’ll be protected within our walls.”
“But her finger will be raised in my direction.”
“Perhaps we should delay the assassinations until she leaves.”
Zar-Lo strokes his chin, considering the idea, but the harsh truth sets in. “Delaying is futile. In three days, the Assembly announces my deposition. The assassinations must be done before then, and no Librarian has ever stayed for shorter than three days.”
Vy-Ro clears his throat. It takes everything in Zar-Lo’s power not to launch the desk at him.
“Forgive my audacity,” he begins cautiously, “but if the Facilitator is unsuccessful and Alba reaches SunSide, we could”—he pauses—“dispatch a team for her, as well.”
There’s a long, tense silence as Zar-Lo tries to process the obtuse suggestion.
“Vy-Ro, I don’t have time to elucidate the stupidity of that proposal, but I will say this: we cannot have Librarian blood spilled on our soil. The Prime won’t respond well when his most prized disciple doesn’t return from my kingdom.”
“Beyond that,” Saith adds, “Alba is the most lethal Librarian to ever leave the city. And she isn’t alone. Two nights ago, you were hesitant to prepare for nine assassinations. Suddenly you’re prepared for eleven?” He scoffs. “Stupid doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
Vy-Ro closes his lips and hangs his head, while the MegaFather turns to the Facilitator again. “There’s only one option, Saith. You have to persuade her to turn back.”
Saith nods, hesitantly. “It will be done.”
He steps around the desk and descends the platform to where Vy-Ro stands, placing the small blue book into the Braver General’s hands.
“What is this?” Vy-Ro asks.
“The MegaFather’s schedule. Congratulations, you’re promoted to Facilitator until I return. Delegate your tasks to your Legion Directors.”
Vy-Ro’s eyebrows scrunch together. “I don’t know how to do your job.”
Saith growls with exasperation. He points to the MegaFather. “Anything he wants, he gets. That’s my job.” He taps the book in Vy-Ro’s palm. “Make sure he attends all meetings and doesn’t miss a meal.”
Before Vy-Ro can respond further, Saith marches to the window wall, uses the Radiance to phase through it, and disappears off of the side of the tower, leaving Vy-Ro and the MegaFather in tense silence.
Vy-Ro begins to flip through the book, mumbling, “What’s first on the MegaFather’s schedule?”
“I can tell you that,” Zar-Lo interrupts him with an eager smile. “Breakfast.”
Vy-Ro nods and, almost eagerly, departs the room, returning an hour later with Castrum cooks. The chefs wheel in three long tables covered in trays of delicious items.
Zar-Lo waves his hand to dismiss the cooks once the final table has been wheeled into the Theater and set up. Before him sits roasted boar, frog legs, soups and stews made with chicken, larks and quail, four different types of bread, and two large hills of cheeses.
Vy-Ro sees the meal, prompting a violent roar in his gut. Zar-Lo ignores it and uses a long boning knife to carve the boar.
“Explain your plan for tonight,” the MegaFather commands as he packs heavy meat and slices of bread into his mouth at once.
“We have one team of Bravers per Member,” Vy-Ro responds obediently. “Each team is set to arrive at midnight, and the assignments should be complete shortly thereafter.”
“How many Bravers on each team?” Zar-Lo dips a thick wedge of cheese into the stew and shoves it into his mouth.
“There are two elderly Members, who will only require two Bravers each. Then, there are four faeries Members, who each have limited combat training. There will be three Bravers on each of their teams.”
“Alright. The two nymphs?”
“Each has combat experience. There will be five Bravers on their teams.”
Zar-Lo eructates loudly and wipes his mouth clean. “That leaves Saila. The lone pixie. Surely you’ve prepared a team of more than five for her.”
“Indeed, Father. Twelve.”
“Thirteen,” Zar-Lo corrects him.
Vy-Ro’s eyebrows meet. “Thirteen?”
“Yes, Vy-Ro. Thirteen. You’ll be there as well.”
Vy-Ro hesitates, processing the instruction. “Please accept my apologies, Father, I don’t mean to question you, but I’ll be coordinating and supervising all nine assassinations.”
“Eight will be executed flawlessly, I’m certain of that. None of us has observed Saila threatened. You will be there to personally see to our success.”
Vy-Ro swallows hard. “As you command.”
“Indeed. As I command.” Zar-Lo stands and finishes cleaning his hands and face. “And the aftermath?”
“Recruitment pamphlets have been distributed throughout the continent. By afternoon tomorrow, new recruits will arrive to deal with any undesirable consequences.”
Zar-Lo nods. “Very good. When is my next meeting?”
Vy-Ro finds the schedule, then peers out at the positions of the suns. “In an hour.”
“Get the cooks to remove the tables,” Zar-Lo responds. “Then send for Saimiza.”
The Braver General hurriedly looks through the book again. “The Head Salver isn’t on the schedule today, Father.”
“What did Saith say before he left? Anything I want, I get.” He lifts his fingers and massages his temples. “I want Saimiza.”
The clack of Saimiza’s cane echoes throughout the Castrum as she hobbles up onto the platform, after her arrival an hour later.
Standing across the ore desk, she looks around the room, curiously. “It’s been many years since my nephew has not been at your side. Where has he gone?”
Zar-Lo sits in his seat and rests his elbows on the desk, his fingers still massaging his temples. “He’s been sent away on urgent matters.”
“Oh?” Saimiza responds. She looks suspiciously at Vy-Ro, hovering at the bottom of the platform, then back at the MegaFather. “Then to what do I owe the honor of your summons, Father, if my patient is not here?”
“I’m your patient today,” Zar-Lo grumbles. “I’m having some latent energy ailment.”
Saimiza narrows her eyebrows. “What energy issues can plague a faerie?”
Zar-Lo chooses his words carefully. “It’s a foreign energy.”
“Foreign?” The word drips out of Saimiza’s mouth with incredulity.
“Yes. Foreign.” Frustration mounts under throbbing temples.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean by ‘foreign.’ I can’t treat you if I don’t know what’s ailing you.”
Zar-Lo sighs, his irritation apparent. He lifts his head from his hands. “Treat it the way you would Negative Radiance Infection. I’ve been infected by a foreign energy that was dormant for many years and has suddenly emerged. It’s a parasite. Try to get it out of me or force it back into dormancy. Is that enough information?”
Saimiza hesitates, but she nods nonetheless. “Yes, Father. I think I understand.” She moves around the desk and stands behind him.
Zar-Lo leans his head back until it’s resting over the back of the chair.
Saimiza places her fingertips on his temples. The hum of the Radiance pulses on his skin. “Relax, Father. Your tension is blocking my access.”
“I’m trying,” he mumbles, closing his eyes. After a few deep breaths, he relaxes.
Saimiza closes hers as well, applying more Radiant energy and linking herself directly to the Megafather’s inner thoughts and emotions—his feelings, ideas, fears, regrets.
She finds no happiness or comfort in him. There’s some distant anguish, some terrible loss. But mostly, she finds ages of fatigue. A despondent weariness of life and a bleak yearning for death.
A scream rings out in his memories—a voice begging for salvation.
“Who is screaming?” she asks.
“Ignore her,” Zar-Lo responds. “Her suffering will fade with the parasites.”
Images flash before Saimiza’s eyes.
Dark images. Shadows. Flames. Blood. Water. Caverns.
She feels textures, smells nasty scents. Heat. Moisture. Sweat. Feces.
She hears sounds. More screams. Laughter. Retching. Explosions.
Two figures appear. Not Mega. Not Human. Not Doruh.
“There they are,” Zar-Lo says. “The parasites.”
“What are they?” Saimiza asks in horror.
Nausea grows. From the sounds to the scents to the textures, she wants to end it and tries to pull her fingertips off of Zar-Lo’s head.
The MegaFather’s hands shoot up and grab her wrists, pulling her fingers back to his temples.
“You will continue,” he says forcefully.
“I-I can’t,” she stammers. Her throat becomes tight as she struggles to breathe.
“Fight them!”
“What are they?” Saimiza repeats. Two figures, cloaked in shadows. She can’t see any defining features. Just silhouettes. Maybe wings.
“They’re hiding,” Zar-Lo says. “Seek them out and remove them, or force them back under.”
“Zar-Lo, I can’t k-keep it u-up.”
She ages. Her wrinkles intensify, her fingers melt into nothing more than bone. She tries to pull back again, but Zar-Lo holds her wrists firmly.
“Please, Zar-Lo,” she begs, “I’ll d-die.” Her eyeballs rot, and her scalp releases hair. Her teeth shrivel down to a quarter of their size.
“What is happening to her?” Vy-Ro yells.
“They’re fighting back,” Zar-Lo replies, “and they’re winning.”
“Who is fighting back?” Vy-Ro asks.
Zar-Lo holds Saimiza’s skeletal hands to his head until suddenly the Radiant energy stops coming. The sounds and smells and textures fade away. His headache resumes.
She failed.
Zar-Lo releases her wrists and hears a thud behind him. He takes a few deep breaths to collect himself, then stands and turns.
Behind his chair, Saimiza’s body has fallen off the platform and onto the Theater floor. She is smaller than when she came in, curled up into a fetal position. Her body is far more wrinkled, and most of her hair has fallen out. Her teeth are nearly gone and her expression is stuck permanently in a state of horror.
Zar-Lo steps off the platform and kneels next to her body. He places a hand on her weak shoulder.
“You did well,” Zar-Lo says softly near her decrepit ear. “I had hoped your bond to the Radiance would be strong enough to withstand the might of the ancient ones, but”—he sighs—“it’s time to rest now. Your service to this dynasty is complete.”
He rises and looks at Vy-Ro. “Call the salvers. Have them clean this mess up and prepare her for Radiance-Return.”
He turns back to the wasted corpse and shakes his head. “Saith will not be pleased.”
Following the cleansing of the Theater and the removal of the Head Salver’s corpse, the MegaFather welcomes an afternoon of arid meetings. The only item on his schedule of any interest is an appointment with the hover chariots’ Chief Engineer, a peculiar but brilliant faerie.
The MegaFather and the Engineer review three potential new designs for the next model of the chariot, before Zar-Lo selects one and the Engineer sets out for the Panaerth ore processing center to deliver the new plans.
As the suns start to reach the horizon and night approaches, the MegaFather stares out at the mountains surrounding the Pass, wondering how his Facilitator must be faring in his mission.
The Theater doors fly open, abruptly interrupting his thoughts. Vy-Ro, standing at the foot of the platform, withdraws two swords from their sheaths.
One of the Castrum’s caretakers stands at the door, frantically catching her breath.
“Father,” she says, “I beg forgiveness for my uninvited presence.”
“Forgiveness lies at the root of the offense,” Zar-Lo responds, plainly. “What brings you into my Theater so impolitely?”
“There is a human downstairs in the atrium. The Courtman of EverEmber. He shouts vile slander against you and demands to meet with you.”
“Tomohiro,” Zar-Lo growls. He turns to Vy-Ro. “I thought he was warned not to step foot on SunSide’s soil again.”
“He was,” Vy-Ro confirms.
“Then it appears he does not value his life.” He turns back to the caretaker. “You’re forgiven. Send him up.”
The caretaker nods and exits.
“Do me a favor, Vy-Ro,” the MegaFather says as they wait for the Courtman’s arrival. “Keep the human’s tongue wagging. Distracted.”
Vy-Ro nods. “As you command.”
The igni man bursts through the doors, red and swollen with rage. “You filth!” he screams as he charges into the room. “You absolute filth.”
“Welcome, Courtman,” Zar-Lo responds with a smile. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Where is my family? What have you done with them?” Venom drips from the accusations.
“Absolutely nothing.” Zar-Lo feigns innocence, though Saith has briefed him on the fate of the Courtman’s loved ones. “As far as I’m aware, they’re still perfectly safe on Lily Beach.”
“I went there!” Tomohiro screams. “Nobody has seen them.”
“Courtman, I have to ask you to reduce your volume,” Zar-Lo says, coolly.
“I don’t care! Everyone will know what is truly going on at Lily Beach.” Tomohiro edges closer to the platform, but stops when he sees Vy-Ro step forward, sword in hand.
He continues speaking with a strained voice. “I want the world to know it was you! You came to me and offered me Lily Beach. You wanted anonymity and a Braver presence there. And I gave it to you. I trusted you and ended the war with SeaBed. I gave up Bibi Sands for you, not knowing what you were planning for Lily Beach.”
He releases a soft, broken whimper. “I didn’t know you were going to use it as your own personal slaughterhouse.”
Zar-Lo gets up from his seat and tilts his head to Vy-Ro, gesturing to the ore chair. Vy-Ro sits as the MegaFather drops off of the platform, without using the stairs.
“It would help if you relaxed, Courtman,” Vy-Ro says. “Please, take a seat.” He points to the seat across from Zar-Lo’s on the other side of the desk.
“I don’t want to sit. I want to know where my family is.”
“I will be happy to explain,” Vy-Ro responds. “But only when you’re sitting calmly. The Bravers keep organized records of our activities on the island, and I can locate your family in a heartbeat. Please join me.”
Tomohiro stares at Vy-Ro, hesitating. Cautiously, desperately, he steps forward and ascends the platform to the desk.
Once he is seated, the MegaFather quietly steps up onto the platform again behind him.
“Excellent,” Vy-Ro says. “When was the last time you spoke to your family?”
Before Tomohiro can respond, Zar-Lo’s massive hand lands on top of his head, pushing down. Startled and frightened, the Courtman screams and violently thrashes Zar-Lo’s hand, to no avail.
“No, no, noooo!” Courtman Tomohiro screams. “LET ME GO!”
His demands become visceral, primal pleas for mercy, but the MegaFather has no intention of obliging. He swiftly jabs Tomohiro in the back of the neck with his free fist, directly on the spine. Dark, gooey blood spurts from the igni’s mouth and his arms go limp.
The human sobs as Zar-Lo wraps his fingers around a portion of Tomohiro’s spine that has come exposed through the igni exoskeleton. Tomohiro’s cries dampen from the blood filling his throat. Zar-Lo feels him losing the ability to breathe and function, feels the life fading away.
One strong pull is all it takes for Zar-Lo to tug the human’s spine out. Vertebra after vertebra pops out of the stone exoskeleton from within, all the way down his back. Tomohiro vomits blood and bile on himself, the desk, and the astonished Braver General.
Blood and gelatinous inner flesh spray out of his back with the spine. Zar-Lo holds his trophy delicately, admiring it. Courtman Tomohiro’s limp body drops off the chair and onto the ground in a pool of his own fluid, innards, and shredded exoskeleton.
“What...” Vy-Ro can barely form the words. “What have you done?”
“I attempted to draw blood from stone.” He holds up the spine. “And I was successful.”
“How? How did you break through an igni exoskeleton with your bare hands? Faeries can’t do that.”
“This one can,” Zar-Lo responds, placing the spine gingerly onto the desk. “Those parasites aren’t the only ones who benefit from our relationship.”