by Cara Violet
He noticed the over-the-top interior decorations of the inn. Ornamented mirrors, walls covered in Gorgon native animal taxidermy—from the large grey two-horned, thick-skinned mammal Seevaars to small Ebel water serpents from the Swamp Lands—and glass etched with images of Medusa; Dersji, stopped his eyes on a fluffy white Clee bear with outstretched claws mounted on the wall next to him.
“What? You have something to say too?” he asked the stuffed animal above his head and savagely gnashed some ginger.
The Clee bear’s white eyes sparkled in the shabby light.
He huffed. “I didn’t think so.”
“Still making enemies, are we, Brikin?” Dersji heard the voice, but did not want to raise his ears to its origin or turn his head—didn’t even want to acknowledge that this was a voice he knew. When Liege Shiek Ferak Jarryd approached the table, and beamed at him, Dersji immediately sat up. Xandou, the swine. The Liege were looking for him, not lowly Shiek.
Ferak’s dark skin shone against his crisply pressed mauve tunic, white chestplate and white robe and his deep brown eyes glistened through slick brown hair toward Dersji. The gratified Liege then lowered himself in the chair opposite his table.
Alongside him, the quiet and smaller Liege Shiek Maki Ryhad took the remaining chair beside Ferak. This was not what Dersji was expecting. He couldn’t help but notice the Gorgon audience curiously glancing toward the three white chestplated, and white robed Liege. This could go one of two ways, and Dersji was hoping it was the one where he continued to do what he said he would do for them and not the one where he was given ridiculous new orders.
“Liege Brikin.” Maki tilted her head forward. She blushed in nervousness and fidgeted her fingers against her red lips. Dersji hadn’t seen her in years. Her short brown hair sat behind tiny ears and she seemed a lot more conservative then he recalled. Slightly innocent? For a Liege, that was too hard to believe. He smirked at the blue-eyed Liege and watched her smile widen.
“Still eating spices, you crazy fool of a mortal,” Ferak interjected. “Just because you live amongst them doesn’t mean you should go around smelling like the insolent beings… archaea infected crossbreeds.” His curling upper lip exposed white teeth against sharp-featured cheek bones; his expression riddled with disgust. Yes, Ferak Jarryd was still Dersji’s biggest rival. Born at nearly the same planet cycle of time, they were close as children. In nearly everything Dersji did through his own Shiek and Liege Verticals, Ferak always tried to go one better—it was just a pity for him, he never actually could.
“Liege Jarryd,” Dersji licked his lips in smugness, “what makes you any less fragrant than my good self?”
“Ah, Dersji, how we miss you back home.”
Dersji bit down on the chuckle that threatened to escape him. “Such meaningless words you bring. Tell me, Liege Jarryd, why are you on Rivalex? I’m surprised Jahzara even let you in?”
“Dersji, Dersji, Dersji,” Ferak said, with a sniff. “You chose this planet as your home. You came here as a recluse, away from the Felrin, to live in the filth amongst these savage reptiles, fleeing like the coward we have come to know.”
Maki shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“I offered to reside here,” Dersji said, referring to his negotiation, “…it was a part of my entreaty to the Felrin Congress and I was granted pardon. Ferak, I have had this pardon for nearly twenty years,” He said with a swelling temper. The rum in his hand was growing hot and heavy. I wonder if we are playing Ferak’s wheel of fortune.
“Yes, I know.” Ferak snapped. “You arrive, the Rivalex Mark Identity is born just before your arrival, and coincidently you are assigned her—such a happy tale to be told. No ritual, though, no ceremony, no meditating or schooling to initiate a bond. She simply became your Menial by touch. Never before have the Liege Shiek seen it done instantaneously, and never has a Menial been produced outside of the Felrin race.”
Dersji chewed widely on his ginger. It spread around his lips. Oh, we are spinning.
Maki scrunched her face up at the sight.
“You have known this for eighteen years, Ferak, since it occurred,” Dersji clarified. “Are we spinning the wheel of fortune yet again? Is this a game of Farcry? Still pissed I beat you in my last Felrin Derby twenty years ago? Do not test my patience, Liege. You are my brother but I fight my brothers every day … tell me what you are here for?”
The Liege paused. Must have stopped on the money, Dersji thought.
Liege Jarryd narrowed his eyes. “You are no longer required to be the girl’s Liege. Her parents and the Felrin Congress have determined the conclusion of this venture, effective immediately. She has a prophecy to fulfil in the Gorgon race which has nothing to do with the Felrin or our Kan’Ging teachings. It will cease. We have another mission for …”
Ferak’s words suddenly faded out. Dersji could not make out the syllables. The arrow tattoo burned on his inner left wrist. “What have you done to her?” Brikin slammed his drink down on the table and clutched tightly to his ginger.
“Us?” Ferak shrugged innocently. “Nothing. Her parents are advising her of her new role and of your absence. They are, I believe, erasing her memory of you. Just like the Gorgon race to be thorough. The girl has a demanding future ahead of her; best to be on the safe side.”
Dersji took another messy bite of ginger, now seething with fury, now understanding why two Liege Shieks were here and now pissed about the fact it was going the one way he didn’t want it to. “They cannot.” He said angrily. “I still need to complete her Kan’Ging teachings. I must see her! Why are you not preventing this? Her Verticals are in two weeks.”
“What? Did you expect us to elect her a Shiek?” Liege Jarryd became animated. “She is a Gorgon, Dersji. Have you ever heard of a Gorgon Shiek? This has gone on for much too long and has gone too far! The Felrin will not continue to support this. The Congress have been considering terminating this bond since its inception. You were here to protect the offspring, not become her Liege, dammit! She will become a Gorgon tonight and no longer remember her Kan’Ging teachings.”
Dersji moved instinctively. He unsheathed his blade and lit up his Kan’Ging aura of swirling deep lavender. It locked in place around his skin and he kept control of the flicker of flames shooting out of him. Kaianan was getting a memory erasure, right under his nose. He would have thought and seen the funnier side of it had they asked him to remove it. But this action would have instilled restraint. Possibly even violence against her. He fought the blind rage that bubbled up inside him. Whoever was responsible would pay. So much for swallowing the distaste of the physical. He spat the ginger out of his mouth and ironically chuckled, knowing Kaianan would be having a field day if she knew.
“Calm down, Dersji,” Maki pleaded. “We must discuss this.”
Dersji, dizzy and weak, looked from Maki to Ferak. He had to outrun them both and get to a safe area to ‘port to Kaianan—without them following him through his ‘port out. The potential to be effective at this point was low. He glanced down to his burning wrist.
“Stop the crap, Dersji.” Ferak barked. “It is time for you to come with us and accept your new mission.”
Dersji pulled back his robe and was horrified to find his arrow tattoo disappearing from his sight. “I need to meditate.” Dersji kept his eyes down and held a calmness in his voice. “I will not sit by and concede to the Felrin erasing eighteen years of my teachings to spawn a new Liege. Kaianan needs to learn the ways of Kan’Ging to at least prepare herself for the Rivalex prophecy and enlightenment. Can’t you see? We must help her.”
“Let her go, Dersji. Please,” Maki implored.
He was groggy, and indeed, Dersji’s likelihood of success was truncated by the fact, but ignoring Maki, he pulsed his hand in Kan’Ging and fired an aura beam at Ferak. Ferak blocked the clumsy attack with a wave of his blade. The beam deflected off the blade into the side of the La Merce Inn—pieces of the wall and stuffed creatures crumbled to th
e floor. The already terrified preform Gorgon continued to scatter to the exits.
Dersji scanned the floor, the walls, anything to get his blurry sight in focus. With the table between them, Liege Jarryd holstered his blade and advanced over the bench top. Dersji barely raised his blade in resistance.
“Give it up, Dersji!” Ferak yelled. “Stop using Kan’Ging in such a place. You are taking this too personally!”
Maki moved; Dersji felt her creep behind him. There was no time to assess his ability in the Siliou, so he immediately pulsed his Kan’Ging toward the plates and cups around the room and sent them, with a surge of aura, in Liege Jarryd’s way, hoping for the best. It worked. Two glasses hit him on the noggin and a plate got him in the gut. Dersji took a few steps back and quickly spun right. Just in time to block Maki’s attack. Summoning what Kan’Ging he had left, he sent a beam at her and she was thrown into the already battered Liege Jarryd.
“There you go. Bloody Mugadeers,” Dersji laughed watching them collapse on each other. “Ow.” His left wrist spun in pain, destabilising him.
There was no time, the Liege were now rising from their disarmament. Dersji tried to identify his next action, tried to use his Liege training, but his cognition was being stripped from him. And what about Kaianan? If he gave up now, what would her fate be?
Ferak charged him. Dersji elected one last-ditch effort. He lit up his aura, back-flipped and landed feet first on the table. He threw down his white robe and oscillated his blade in front of the Felrin.
“You saw that, yes?” he whispered to the stuffed white Clee bear that was now right next to his head. “Pretty bloody good … pretty bloody good if I do say so myself.”
“Enough, Dersji!” Liege Jarryd shouted. He and Maki re-formed and held their blades up to the elevated Liege.
“It’s never eno– … eno– … eno– … nope, I’m a goner … someone … feed the bird.” Dersji lost grip of his blade, slipping from his hand, it hit the table and dropped to the ground. He swayed unsteadily. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, he blacked out and toppled over—taking the whole table to the floor with him.
“Enemy! Cease! Let her go immediately, seditionist!” Xandou raced his way through the Manor’s Guest Hall to the Necromancer hovering over Kaianan’s limp frame. He drew his blade and held it to the intruder’s grey neck. Xandou’s heartbeat increased. Kaianan lay unconscious on the cream lounger. Long-tapered grey hands protruded from the red robes of the intruder over her body and the Necromancer’s frantic red eyes fixed on him.
“What have you done to her?!” Xandou said, feeling the shock riddle through him. His eyes searched the shadowy grey face underneath the limp charcoal grey hair of the Sile native, and eventually he looked up to see the King and Queen scrutinising him with reproachful looks. “Your Majesty, Your Highness.” He bowed to them. “What has happened to the Princess?!”
“Lower your blade, Guardian, and respect the presence of Arch Mage Konrolic,” Reon said. He strutted his short, solid body past the Wall of Many Mirrors, his royal green robes, much too long for him, swiping the floor half a metre behind him and when he got to Xandou, his chubby hands went to Xandou’s arm, forcing him to lower his blade. Xandou noticed the thinning man’s brown hair falling all over his plump face and eyes in mess and sweat.
“I am confused, Your Majesty.” Xandou’s mouth was completely dry and he could hear his rapid heartbeat in his ears. “I do not understand why a Necromancer, a sworn enemy of the Gorgon, is present. Please enlighten me … why does your daughter lie there unconscious?” Xandou was burning at the sight of her. He hated to think it, but even Dersji’s presence would have comforted him.
King Reon, wiped his royal robes down with his fat fingers. His round face shaking in annoyance. “The time has come for Kaianan to move on. She was born to lead a revolution; the period of enlightenment begins tonight.”
A burst of anger stabbed Xandou in the chest. “What do you mean?! What have you done—”
He felt a surge of pain through his cheek. Agantha’s hand had slapped him across the face.
“This has nothing to do with you, this is for the Gorgon people, Xandou, and our survival,” she said.
Xandou looked to the Queen, her hair back in a tight bun, a pristine primrose lace bodice dress was strapped to her. It was her eyes though; they were full of fury. She then began caressing Xandou’s long blonde hair against his face. Xandou didn’t know what to think. He had loved Agantha like she was his mother, but something about the way her cold stare regarded him, made him uneasy. What was this? Who was she?
Pushing away the Queen’s hand, Xandou knelt down near Kaianan, and furiously rubbing the shaven side of his head, he analysed her. He was tortured by her stillness and, softly, he stroked her damp hair.
Her hand was shaking.
“What is this?” Xandou gathered Kaianan’s left arm when it stopped moving and examined the flesh on her inner wrist; the arrow tattoo was gone. All the colour drained from his face. What had they done? Did they just end Kaianan’s bond with Dersji?
“Get up,” Agantha snapped. “You are to remain silent. Her Liege is gone now, and your job is to protect the Rivalex Mark tonight at ceremony. You will have an additional Guardian to assist you once she has transformed. Her name is Metrix; you may know her from your school of Giliou Shielders.”
Xandou couldn’t speak; he willed himself to. “Yes, Your Highness.”
He couldn’t believe the last thing between Kaianan and him, was silence. Maybe if he had of known what was going on in Kaianan’s head and what her parents were actually planning, he could have somehow prevented this? Did she deserve to have Dersji removed from her life? Even though Xandou detested the man, they both didn’t deserve this.
“Now, when the Princess wakes, Xandou, you will be there to help her remember,” Reon said.
Xandou’s shock had turned into surprise. What were they talking about? “You mean you want me to set the lies straight. Not speak of Dersji again—”
“There are others who could take your place,” the Queen said callously.
Xandou was ambushed by his thoughts. He imagined Kaianan being guarded by someone else. A stranger. There was no way he could tolerate or even allow it. Absolutely not. He hated himself for having let the apprehension play on his mind.
“No,” he said swiftly, “I’ll make sure everything is fine.”
“Leave her with Princess Chituma and then fix yourself up for our guests.” Agantha got closer to him. He rose from the lounger. Her neck went upward. “We want you looking your best.”
The King slapped Xandou on the back and departed; Agantha winked at him and followed the King and the Arch Mage out.
Xandou sat back down alongside Kaianan on the cream lounger. She was motionless. He’d caught her asleep like this, once before, in the Valley Woods when Darayan and Archibel had spent the day with her sparring. She’d decided to have a quick nap. Xandou recalled lifting her in his arms and carrying her all the way back to the Manor. His forearms and biceps had never ached more, but he didn’t want to wake her. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful.
The Kaianan below him was unconscious, not asleep. She had been stripped of the bond with her Liege against her own knowledge, not spent a long day enjoying swordplay with her friends. Guilt was ripping right through his heart. He was so conflicted; but despite what he felt he knew he had to follow orders. He would do anything for this family, anything.
Xandou’s eyes went up to the Wall of Many Mirrors. The blonde hair falling over his pale face and his tired blue eyes staring back at him, gave him no comfort, no release from the mess he had just been thrust in. Never had he been in a position that made him so anxious. The only thing he could do was make sure tonight went as smoothly as possible.
Chapter Four: Scripted Conversation
Kaianan opened her eyelids.
She could hear muffled noises. The weight of her head made her feel sick, and blurry vision added t
o the nausea.
“Hello in there?” someone asked her.
Where was she? The world was turning and foggy around her. A few more blinks and she was able to get her focus back. Chocolate eyes in the middle of a pale face and long light brown hair fell on Kaianan.
“Chituma?” Kaianan’s throat ached when she spoke.
Her younger sister, Chituma, kept talking but it took Kaianan awhile to process the information.
“Where am I?” Kaianan wheezed out. Putting her hand on her chest, she brushed the silver chain of her snake necklace with her fingertips—usually it was concealed under her tunic.
“My dear sister.” Chituma’s voice came into frequency, then her face became clearer. She was looking down at Kaianan, a cheeky grin escaping her, revealing a near-perfect set of pearly white teeth. Kaianan squinted at how close she was.
“I have been watching and waiting patiently for you to wake.” Chituma pulled her head back. “I’ve never seen you sleep so. But you must be getting out of bed now. You’re everyone’s favourite this hour.”
Kaianan turned her head feeling shooting pain in her neck. “I’ve always been everyone’s favourite, haven’t I? All hours,” she muttered out through gritted teeth.
Chituma laughed. Why wouldn’t she? Kaianan knew it was the biggest lie. Chituma was heavily favoured by her parents and was the doting daughter who never stepped out of line. Kaianan, naturally, rebuked all the things her parents asked of her.
“There’s your ego.” Chituma intentionally scowled. “That still seems to be intact.”
Kaianan exhaled, sitting up. It took her less than a few seconds to take in every detail around her. She was in Chituma’s room. A creamy swirl of porcelain-coloured walls and thick black velvet curtains, her room had a lot more embellishments than Kaianan’s. Hanging pictures of Fabric Haus dresses, a famous Giliou Farcry player poster, an excessive amount of jewellery on her dresser, and the whole place smelt like incense.
