by Cara Violet
“I can’t see it?”
“No, you can’t. It’s the air between us, gravitational force is always moving around us, pushing and pulling between all objects, even though we can’t see it.”
Xandou nodded. “I think I understand, sir.”
“And …” Dersji’s hand was in the air moving, “… we can reach out and use the gravitational force, use the Siliou. When we do, our auras become the colours of our skin in the Siliou.”
“Colours of our skin?” Xandou laughed, “I have blue aura sir, but I’m not a blue-skinned Aquamorph. I’m pale in complexion, see.” His arm was out from under his tunic sleeve.
“No, no, no.” Dersji said, shaking his hand. “Because we can manipulate the Siliou, a colour emerges from our physical bodies, lighting up the Siliou itself, to show others what we look like when we’ve tapped into it. The stronger, brighter and larger the aura, the more Siliou control we have.”
“But why is yours purple and mine’s blue?”
“It’s heritage.” Dersji pointed to Xandou’s azure tunic. “Your Giliou people spark blue flames. The Felrin, purple,” Dersji, this time displayed it, moving his fingers through the air; his hand went up in lavender flames as he grasped the Siliou. He was using the gravitational force to expand the flames and then as quick as igniting it, he dropped it. The satisfaction the brief use of his aura gave him, made him smile. It had been a very long time since he’d turned the Siliou, and he hadn’t realised how much he missed it. “…I’m sure the Gorgon have a green aura too.”
“The Gorgon …” Xandou had disbelief written over his face, “…the Gorgon have green auras? I didn’t think many people had auras, sir.”
Dersji this time laughed. “Everyone has an aura, Xandou. The colour will show when they decide to cast their ability into the Siliou. Remember it’s always there, but because we can’t see it, some people don’t bother using it …. Just think of it like this, we can all run but some of us learn how to sprint and become professional athletes. We all have an aura, but there are those that train their aura, and become trained aura users. Make sense?”
Xandou nodded. “What about the transformation of Gorgon, sir? They can turn into half snakes, you know. Long green tails. Is that them using aura?”
“No.” Dersji confirmed. “Species that physically change their bodies from preform are not using the Siliou to do it.”
“But why is it my people, why is it the Giliou are only preform, sir? We don’t transform.”
“Ah, you see, the Giliou, like the Felrin, chose to stay the way our migrating human cousins, the Homo sapiens, came here as, so we know it as the form before, or preform … but some species turned with the area of their living, morphing with Archaea cells to survive … the volatile Swamp is a form of ecosystem for the Gorgon; therefore, the Gorgon can physically adapt to live in it if need be.”
“Ay, and the Necromancers have grey skin, sir.”
Necromancers, Dersji had met before, on Namea. A significant form of hybrid, the Archaea cells took over their Homo captiosus skin, and physically formed a grey layer of flesh over their bodies, altering their hair and finger nails to grey and eyes to red, all in the sake of allowing them to survive through situations like volcanic eruption, air pollution and long periods of vast and dead habitation. They could survive on basically little to no food because of this and in any type of lifeless environment. The Archaea cells were capable of such longevity it had been said the Necromancers, if they couldn’t die of old age, would be as long living as the Liege.
“Ah, they must occupy the south.” Dersji said.
“Yes sir, the land is dead in the south … but you know they do have aura sir, the whole of Rivalex know that.”
“That aura is extinct.” The Necromancer home planet, Namea had been severely damaged by the Felrin because of the Necromancer Arch Mage training regime, Dersji recalled. They were heavily monitored on what they taught; a suppression the Felrin justified as protection for the rest of the galaxy. “Don’t get confused and think physical transformation has anything to do with the use of Siliou. Transformation is the adaptability of our genus, our species. You have to actually train your aura to learn how to control the Siliou.”
“I will be trained, sir. I promised her Highness I’d get better at my aura.” Xandou seemed worried.
“No doubt, young man,” Dersji reassured him. “When we get back I will show you the aura hierarchy graph. A lot of species relegate certain individuals to train in aura. At eighteen, you pass certain trials and if you succeed you are ranked. In my culture, you pass the Verticals and become a Felrin Shiek. In your culture, you become a Giliou Shielder. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir … Do many people chose to become trained aura users?”
“No. Not many. But some species give their people no choice. There are over two hundred thousand Felrin Shiek in Felrin.”
“Woah, that’s a lot.”
“They are the elected governance of the galaxy and have an obligation to show military might.”
“Sir, but aren’t you a Liege? I know they can use Kan’Ging aura. What’s the difference?”
Dersji paused, then took a deep breath. “The difference, my child, is that someone who can use Kan’Ging aura can control the Siliou around other objects. Our normal aura, once trained, helps us become quicker, more agile, and better decision makers because we can feel what the Siliou is doing, we can move our bodies through it, we can send out beams like small painful attacks for example… That’s all it can do, though, it is relative to your body only … extremely helpful … Kan’Ging on the other hand,” Dersji didn’t even want to think about the Silkri, “Kan’Ging can give you the ability to tear things up, to control things, you have control of not just the Siliou around you remotely but of larger amounts … amounts where you can do things you shouldn’t.”
Xandou frowned. “Like what, sir?”
“There are rules enforced by the Felrin Congress; Liege are monitored. Some people shouldn’t play god, Xandou.” Dersji was talking to himself this time.
“How can I use the Kan’Ging?”
“You can’t. It’s only ever been gifted to the Felrin, and you need a bond, between Liege and Menial. Something that hasn’t happened between two people in years.” This made Dersji choke up a bit, but he let the thought of his last Menial go as quickly as it came.
“I thought there was – er – trials, sir.”
“There are Liege Verticals after the Shiek Verticals—”
“Can you use it now? If there are no more Liege coming, can you show me? I’ve never seen a Liege—”
“No.” Dersji said sharply. Up until this point it had been months, if not years since Dersji used his aura. Not since he was last working for the Felrin Congress. After the death of his Menial, he had chosen to stop, chosen to not let the, at times uncontrollable power consume him. It made him sick and it made him itch for a drink. “No more on the matter. We are delaying our journey.”
“Ohwwww,” Xandou crossed his arms. “I need to know more, sir.”
“When we get back, and for holom sake stop calling me sir. Hurry up and move.”
Xandou scurried after him. Dersji was walking faster now, and a few more kilometres through the grassland, below him, the surface had turned into a huge deep chasm of barren and lifeless land.
“The Hunted Gorge, sir.” Xandou said excitedly.
“Stop. Talking.”
It took Dersji only a few minutes to locate the plaque in the centre of the Gorge, to locate the script that had appeared the night the Necromancer King Warlowes was killed by the Felrin, and glance over the words that were the reason Dersji was pushed out of retirement and exile, and into babysitting.
He took a step closer to look over the metal plaque. It had a large crack up the middle, and with a prickle down his spine, Dersji felt disturbed as he read it:
“The irreconcilable differences of race will be brought to justice,
&n
bsp; Solely by an offspring bearing the Rivalex Mark.
The people will equate and prevail in a new universal order.
By the stroke of bright light,
The sacrifice will be revealed.
On that day of reckoning,
Hidden no longer the cracks to Holom’s Door. BI.”
“What does this hogwash mean?” he hammered out.
“Means Holom Galaxy will be released, sir.” Xandou said proudly. “All the stragglers and wrong doers, those pesky Pernicious, they’d be coming back through to the universe and to our galaxy.”
Dersji looked at Xandou and wasn’t sure whether to smack him across the head or not. “Go on, what else do the Giliou teach you?”
“Well, back in Forsda sir, we used to study this plaque. The Rivalex Mark will bring balance to the universe, they call this reign the period of enlightenment, that the mark will enlighten us with a new universal order—”
Dersji almost choked on his snort. “What about the Felrin? What do they have to say about this?”
“Don’t know, sir. Sure they wouldn’t be happy.”
“No indeed not. This prophecy is in direct conflict to the current system.” Dersji eyed the boy and wanted to find out exactly where that BI mark was on his body.
“What’s that like, sir?”
“What’s what like?” Dersji said confused.
“The current system.”
“You weren’t taught the system of our galactic governance in Forsda either?”
“We don’t really follow it sir, our Queen pledges allegiance yes, but she sets her own rules, you know.”
Dersji was boiling mad. What were these children being taught?
“Well, as someone who is going to takeover, I’m sure you’ll need to know how it’s all run.” Dersji let his smile widen his cheeks in sarcasm but Xandou obviously didn’t get the joke.
“Well, then, how to explain it … I guess …. upon discovery of our galaxy … when the Homo Sapiens, our cousins, migrated from other galaxies to live on Felrin, the civilisation discovered the Siliou after five hundred thousand years … that they could manipulate it … people began using auras, and the power of auras got out of control, spreading violence and chaos throughout Felrin … when wormholes—Euclidean Vectors—opened up and the new Homo captiosus fled to other planets, population became dense quickly … aura became unmanageable, and the two forefathers of aura ended up killing themselves and destroying a whole planet in the conflict… So you see, the need to set up a system in which law and order could be established became vital to cohesive existence … All the system’s representatives, the people, preform or transformed to their adaptable worlds, came together in the Felrin system to seek peace and stability … they decided to have elections every four years to determine which civilization would control the responsibilities of all.”
“Like the Queen gives us orders, sir?”
“Well not precisely, but imagine every four years you could choose to vote for a new queen, based on policy.”
Xandou frowned in thought.
“An elected hierarchy, young man … For much of the time the Felrin have been in control … though for a few short terms, the Aquamorphs did reign … anyway the Felrin board of three Principals are good at protecting others, you see … Your planet was apparently saved from that King Warlowes fellow all thanks to the Felrin.”
“The Defeated King, sir.”
“Oh, yes.” Dersji nodded. “Anyway, that’s the galactic system. The Felrin are in power at the moment and have been, for probably, much too long.”
“You don’t like your people, sir?”
Dersji spread his tongue through his mouth in thought. “I’m just not sure what their capable of doing and what constitutes good protection. They control travel, all areas of it; it’s concerning at times when this is as far from the freedoms our human cousins wanted when they arrived … The Felrin set law and order but who measures the success? Is it simply that they are re-elected every four years that proves their accountability? Or that they are merely infamous to the rest of the systems and that populates their votes?”
Xandou shrugged his shoulders in more of a misunderstanding.
“Sorry, above your head.”
“What are the Felrin actually like then?”
Dersji’s cheeks moved, he couldn’t help but smile. “I forget you are underage and cannot visit other systems yet … The Felrin system, the home planet, is magnificent to most that lay eyes on it … A people of technological advancements, the Siliou Fulcrum, Felrin cruisers, prestigious architecture, and of course the Liege … It is a land of water laneways through city skyscrapers; very beautiful … But the Felrin have become a people of abundance in all things of material and might; boasting about having the biggest city buildings in the galaxy, about their Siliou-pulsed vehicles and cruisers, and the strength of their army, the largest in the galaxy …” Dersji forgot just how much he loathed what his home planet had turned into, “… greed has twisted them … but I guess, my favourite thing would be Farcry.”
“Oh yes, I know Farcry, sir. I’ve watched the Giliou play in Bretix Arena.”
That was news to Dersji. “Ah, I will have to watch a game soon.”
“I tried playing mid-scant once.”
Dersji felt a warm feeling tingle through his body at Xandou’s words. It had been years since he’d played Farcry. The Liege played regularly because they were always more skilled at it then the Shiek. The passion for it stung him.
“I played mid-scant also,” he admitted.
“It’s very hard sir, how did you set up all the plays?”
“Ah, you see, it is the one who controls the play that sees all. Sometimes taking time to add and subtract possibilities and opportunities leads you to a better outcome. Practice on taking the time to silence the mind. You can learn to make better decisions in the heat of the moment that way.”
Xandou nodded, and holding his white robe out with his fingers, ran around the plaque like a toddler.
“You need to start acting your—”
“What are you going … to do about the prophecy, sir?” Xandou’s words reverberated through his heavy breath and against the wind as he ran.
“Stop. Moving.”
Xandou froze like a statue.
“What are you doing? Fix yourself.”
Xandou sighed and dropped his position. “Are you going to do a report, sir?”
Dersji studied him and tried to put the past two days’ events together in his mind. Firstly, the Felrin ordered him here to watch over this boy—Xandou was at this moment picking his nose and Dersji scowled … Moving on to point two, the prophecy was vague and unknowing, and even though Dersji read it and thought he understood it, a niggling part of him didn’t believe it was the correct interpretation.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do …” Dersji admitted the truth; he hadn’t received any further instruction from the Felrin Congress about it and he was a retired Liege, it wasn’t his job to spend time problem solving. “I guess, even if we don’t find out what the Rivalex Mark actually means, we can still work on training in the short amount of time we have.”
“No doubt sir. And protection. That’s why I’m here.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, sir.”
The thumping in the back of Dersji’s head still hadn’t gone away. He was ready for a drink. “Hmm, we should be getting back.”
“Yes sir, Seran’s making Ebel stew for dinner.”
Ebel stew for dinner? Dersji didn’t want to return to the Manor. But the thought of fresh brewing fish stew, with spices and possibly ramen rice was too good to pass up.
He stood, glanced over the vast dead barren land of the Hunted Gorge, then fixed his eyes back to the distant Layos capital. “Lead the way, boy.”
The dining room of the Manor, like the Guest Hall, was oddly decorated. This much smaller room had a kaleidoscope of unevenly sized dinner plates all over th
e wall in front of Dersji. He titled his head, the fine china was multi-coloured and simply unconventional for a normal dining setting, then again, he’d come to expect it. The dark Miry stained buffets on either side of the room were full of silverware, and the thick, long Miry table they sat at had at least twenty chairs either side it and took up the whole room.
At the southern end of the table, the conversation had fallen to the Necromancers of the south. With King Reon indisposed again and five maidens lining the small dining room around its slender edges; Dersji sat to the left of Queen Agantha, who was back in a silk robe sitting at the head of the table; her daughter, spewing saliva down her bib to her right; and Xandou next to her, across from Dersji, who wouldn’t take his eyes off the little girl.
“You know, the Necromancers will rot in Sile eventually.” Queen Agantha had been saying. “Us Gorgon, and the Giliou don’t see how they can even feed their people …” she was able to usher out in between tiny slurps of stew.
“Hmm,” was all Dersji could manage. His mind was on the meal. Not on the forsaken trade of Rivalex.
“To think, we offered them timber, and Seevaar, Ebel and Vera berries. There are so many rich protein foods in Layos … and the Giliou could have traded them gold and ramen rice!”
“Hmm.” Another big chunk of fish melted in Dersji’s mouth, while he broke pieces of bread to dip into the stew and rice.
“I guess the Defeated King did get his way, didn’t he?”
This made Dersji stop chewing his soggy bread and look up. “How so?”
“Well he didn’t like us importing the Necromancer iron ore and metals, did he? We were making all sorts of barracks and weapons. The Felrin had just lost the election you see, to the Aquamorphs. Thank the Sarinese gods that hasn’t happened again in a thousand years.” Again, she took another tiny swig of stew and then offered her daughter a spoonful.
