by Regine Abel
We both mumbled words of thanks—I think—but as Xevius turned me around to face him, I just drowned in the liquid gold of his eyes. We didn’t hear Krygor leaving discretely to rejoin the others as we basked into each other’s love and happiness.
EPILOGUE
Kamala
Within three days, thanks to our allies beefing our ranks, all the clients on Gruuk’s list had been visited without taking a toll on the number of troops we could keep defending Veredia. With it came the end of an era. Granted, we hadn’t found all of the Sisters to have ever been sold. Besides those who had died under various circumstances and those who had been resold too many times to follow the trail, Gruuk hadn’t had the monopoly on Veredian trade. He had merely been the one ‘smart’ enough to make us reproduce and only sell our children, unlike his peers who directly sold all the Veredians they’d abducted during the last days of our original home world.
However, Galicia and Gerana proved to be a blessing in our endeavor to find our Sisters still unaccounted for. In the weeks that followed, using their combined abilities on mementos that had once belonged to the missing, or on people who had interacted with them, we were able to find a few more of our people or to get new trails to follow.
It took nearly another month before Minh, Xevius and I, Amalia, Aleina, and their mates could finally move to Veredia. Maheva had preceded us there with the twins, her mate staying behind to complete the protocols for reproduction and distribution of the cure for the Taint. The tension between them that had reared its head after the ‘incident’ appeared to have faded away. Minh had devoted his life to saving lives and easing pain. To see his mate deliberately inflict it and relish in it had obviously shaken him.
To my undying relief, Krygor’s prediction seemed to be accurate. From the moment we left Axios, Maheva returned to the loving, caring female we had always known, with no interest in politics or power, and an almost obsessive need to heal the slightest wound or scar. While it amused the Korletheans who didn’t particularly care about having battle scars or not, the Braxians fled her like the plague. With their prominent foreheads and brows, broad, flat, lion noses, and strong jaws, those giants would never qualify as handsome, and they took pride in that. For a Braxian, the more fearsome the appearance meant the purer the bloodline, which in turn implied the more vicious the warrior.
And vicious they were.
To watch tiny Mercy—in comparison—talk sternly to those mountains of muscles for making some derogatory remark about one thing or another was a sight to behold. Twice her size and towering over her by a full head, they would bow their head in shame like properly chastised little boys. It wasn’t out of fear of the Magnar tearing them a new one for talking back to his Dagna, but because Mercy had truly earned the respect of this species once reputed for being bigoted, misogynistic, and rabidly vengeful at the first perceived slight to their honor.
Since mating with Mercy, Ravik had multiplied the overtures to forge an alliance with the Tuureans. It wasn’t until a year into their marriage that Aleina had finally given her big sister leave to reveal the truth of our identity to her mate. The Magnar had lost his shit in what Mercy casually described as an epic tantrum. Despite her dismissive description of it, I believed it had not been pleasant. She had remained fairly secretive about the hardships they had faced before finding their happiness. But one thing she had always stressed was the importance of honesty between them. That it hadn’t been her secret alone to share had helped him overcome the sense of betrayal. And as per his wish, an alliance was forged between our peoples.
Our cultures and values were far too different for us to form a strong bond—at least in the foreseeable future—but their prowess on the battlefield and their loyalty made them the type of friends you wanted to keep close. The trade agreements between Braxia and Veredia also benefited their struggling economy, finally on the mend, and our newborn home world still in need of many raw materials. But the unique resources that Mercy kept discovering on her new planet, fueled our combined military and defense research which kept our Tuurean army far ahead of the curve in the race for technology, and an unbeatable force to be reckoned with.
To his dismay, Ravik was forced into a joint Veredian wedding in Haven for him and Mercy, and Xevius and me. Discovering it centered around a tribal dance fairly similar to the Braxian war dances turned the whole thing around. While they may not have handsome faces, the Braxians’ bodies were pure perfection and moved with a grace no one would have expected from such massive and muscular men. They literally stole the show with their performance and made quite a few Xelixian and Korlethean feel self-conscious. Lucky for my mate, I wasn’t into big and bulky, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the eye candy.
While the civil war continued on Korlethea, it didn’t turn into the horrible bloodbath I had expected. Yes, there were some battles and deaths, but mostly, it resulted in a partial collapse of the government. I didn’t doubt for a minute the presence of the Galactic Council’s observers helped tone down the violence. While they didn’t directly intervene, any sign of blatant abuse would have prompted them to inform the Council which would have then sent in Peacekeepers. Seeing how secretive the Korletheans were, they didn’t want more people stomping their grounds.
From what little news trickled in, shared between those who chose to stay on Korlethea and the Exiled, a fundamental restructuring of their rules, laws, and society as a whole was taking place. For that reason, most of them chose to remain through that painful, but necessary process.
Despite that, Omniate Theanna opened a timid communication channel between the Veredian and the Xelixian Councils. Her first request had been for us to send more vids of how the assistance of the Korletheans was helping our children be more peaceful and in control of their primal instincts. We gladly complied. The difference had been mind-blowing. Their powers were growing by leaps and bounds, but we no longer feared them or that the children might lose control in a fit of temper. They were happier and more carefree now that their rage and aggression no longer required so much of their energy to silence. Granted, they were becoming more mischievous now that more of them were developing their telepathic abilities, but pulling pranks was an essential part of growing up.
The Omniate’s second request echoed that of the Exiled: to keep a strict control over the production and distribution of vryer. We also had no problem complying with that request. Veredians had no wish to enhance our powers. They were gifts granted to us by the Goddess to aid us under specific circumstances. Most of us had no use for them on the day-to-day. But our climate was indeed ideal for growing the roots, better than Xelix Prime. Our Council therefore agreed to leave its production in the care of the Exiled. The portion of the harvest that wouldn’t be kept for the Korletheans’ personal consumption here on Veredia would be immediately processed into the Taint medication before being shipped to Xelix Prime. Similarly, a small group of Korletheans agreed to settle on Xelix Prime to oversee a similar process there although on a smaller scale. While not as effective when grown inside greenhouses, the Xelixians—understandably—didn’t want to be fully dependent on external resources to cure their people.
Then again, President Frebhin only consented after the Korletheans extradited Chana Bremhin back to Xelix Prime to face their justice. It wasn’t only to make sure that the Quorum wouldn’t give her a pass or hide what their true role had been in her spying, but he wanted to find out whether she’d limited her interference to messing with the Veredians, or if she had jeopardized Xelix Prime’s national security by divulging the wealth of sensitive information she’d had access to. Frebhin asked Xevius to testify in the closed trial she faced. The public never found out about her wrongdoings. That she had managed to blindside them for a decade at the highest level of their government reflected poorly on them. We never found out what punishment was handed down to her. As she was never seen or heard from again, we could only imagine.
Within two months of the cure’s d
eployment, there were no more Tainted males in the final stages of the disease, their symptoms having significantly receded. Within six months, there were no more males with the Tainted classification, all of them being now labelled Norms. Within two years, the disease had been officially cured, with multiple test groups remaining in remission for more than a year without taking the medication.
Tainted Xelixian females also benefited from it. While they hadn’t displayed the dark veins that marred the skin of their males, their disease had made it difficult for them to conceive females and harder for them to carry any child to term. That, too, changed. With the healthy growth of female births, the future generations of Xelixian males would no longer need to look to the stars for potential mates.
But the cure didn’t just bring joy to the Xelixians. Like the Korletheans, their society’s structure collapsed. There were no more Tainted to be treated as second rate citizens, to voluntarily perform hard labor to slow the progress of their disease, or to fill the menial work positions that the Norms and Primes lifted their noses at. Military enrollment plummeted. For generations, it had been the main form of employment that guaranteed decent working conditions for their short lifespan. It provided the physical strain to release the inherent dopamine that helped reduce the spread of the disease and granted them a chance at a glorious death rather than the horrible one to the Taint. Now having real prospects of a future and a family, many opted for more traditional professions.
The related changes in consumer needs severely hit their economy, too. With the hooded robes and veils of the Tainted becoming a thing of the past, entire factories were shut down or forced to evolve, coming up with new products that would be in demand. The pharmaceutical industry, which made billions of credits off the painkillers and neural suppressants sold to the Tainted, saw their business become obsolete. Many of them demanded the government pass the production of the cure to them, but the agreement with the Korletheans made that impossible—not that it would have been a long-term solution.
Still, those were great problems for them to have. Like all of my Sisters, I had always hated the segregation and discrimination among the Xelixians. Granted, it hadn’t been of the violent type seen in other cultures. But the Tainted had accepted their lot with disheartened fatalism. Amalia and her mate had done so much to improve their living conditions, laying the groundwork for the massive changes their society now faced. Painful though it would be, in the long run, it would benefit them as a people.
Under Khel’s leadership—with the ever faithful Ghan by his side—the Xelixian military base on Veredia thrived. It became the HQ of the Sentinels, the new elite division of Xelix Prime’s army, mainly devoted to the peacekeeping efforts of the Galactic Council. Unlike the First Division, the Sentinels welcomed all species of the Galactic Alliance, not exclusively Xelixians. A number of the Korlethean Enforcers and Agents that had defected joined its ranks, along with a few Braxians.
Xevius, Febus, and Thaddeus did not.
They had a beyond keen interest in the Titans, which had caused some unease at first. While I didn’t doubt their good intentions—confirmed by Valena’s probe—we were worried what values they might teach the children that might clash with our own. The Korlethean Titans had turned to monsters because they’d been raised to believe themselves above others, to seek greater power, and to dominate any who might challenge them.
But the three men had one purpose: ensuring the children would fulfill the vision we all hoped for. They set up a strict training program including meditation, psionic development and control, in addition to combat and defense—tailored to each child’s individual ability—and an odd combination of military history and philosophy. When they’d first presented this last part of their curriculum to us, it had been confusing. But we quickly realized it was all about teaching the children about the errors of the past, and both the consequences and aftermath of military choices for both the surviving warriors and the population. While they were tough topics, the Korletheans did a wonderful job of presenting them in a more palatable way for such a young audience without diluting its impact.
Some of the Sisters worried—with good reason—that we were falling into the same trap as the Korletheans; shaping the future of our children based on some foretelling and training them for a war we didn’t even know would actually occur. Although that gave me pause, in the end, the training they were receiving went beyond whatever future may or may not come to pass. On top of mastering their skills in a way none of us had, they were getting invaluable moral lessons that would make them better people in the end, war or not.
To my greatest joy, while Aleina didn’t bring Lee out of retirement, she reclaimed her Admiral title and the leadership of our military. With Veredia secured and fiercely defended, we set peacekeeping patrol schedules on rotation so that we wouldn’t be away from our home world and families too often.
Veredia continued to grow at an exponential rate. While we strictly controlled immigration to our planet, we allowed a limited number of highly vetted foreigners to settle in Haven, mainly to establish specialty businesses, as well as embassies for members of the Galactic Alliance. The Korletheans gave us a bit of a headache when they requested to open a temple where their Seers and Oracles could give readings to foreigners, as they used to before Korlethea closed in on itself. But, thankfully, that had been Aleina’s headache to deal with. I just got to threaten to kick some butts when the customers started coming on the limited number of days per month that the temple was allowed to operate.
We extended the ‘meet and greet’ programs to Dantor, Earth, and Avea. Very few matches occurred with the latter, but the first two resulted in multiple unions. Although it shamed me to admit it, I, too, was pleased that the offspring of those couples came out looking 100% Veredian. Even though we unconditionally loved our hybrid children, it was good to see that the original faces of our ancestors would live on through a portion of our population.
As I gazed upon the tall buildings of Haven, standing proud beneath the bright, blue sky overhead, with happy families strolling the streets, no control gloves, no Guldan guards, no four walls and reinforced door enclosing us, it finally dawned on me: we had succeeded. We were free. We were happy. We had a future where our children would never again be forced upon us before being ripped away from us.
And I would defend all of this to my last breath.
* * *
Xevius
In the five years that followed our exile from Korlethea, Veredia became the center of the Western Quadrant and the most sought-after destination. That access was still strictly controlled and restricted, making it even more appealing to both businesses and tourists alike. Images of Veredia’s breathtaking landscapes and capital city mesmerized people around the galaxy. Thanks to their kinetic powers, the Sisters shaped stone, metal, wood, and minerals into architectural wonders. Nature met technology in a colorful symphony that gave one the impression of dwelling in a peaceful oasis teeming with life.
I ruffled Tharek’s hair as I dismissed him from our meditation session. He scrunched his face then pulled on a lock of my hair, before running off through the garden as if he feared I’d retaliate. I burst out laughing, watching him move at the dizzying speed he’d inherited from his sire. My heart filled with affection for the boy whom I’d grown to love as a little brother—almost as a son even—though he called me uncle. At seven, he already looked like a preteen. His broad shoulders and height indicated he’d grow to be as imposing and muscular as Khel.
Tharek’s power still left me reeling. With a thought, he could make anyone see or hear whatever he wished. It felt so real you could even touch the illusion—or rather believe you were. In the past few weeks, he’d evolved enough to include taste and smell in his deceptions. They weren’t always quite accurate, but he was still young with years ahead of him to master his ability. The mentor in me wanted to see how far it would go with a mix of fear and excitement.
I felt Eryon’s
presence before he cleared the tall bushes that had provided him and his own pupil some privacy during training. The immense garden of the academy had been conceived in a way to provide many discrete nooks for the students seeking calm for introspection. He fell into step with me without a word, content to give me a psionic nudge in greeting, which I reciprocated.
As we exited the garden, excited shouts coming from behind the sand-colored, stone building drew us. By the roars of the crowd, I could guess who was battling in the virtual arena. The elevated benches surrounding the circular combat pit were filled with students, parents, and mentors cheering on Vahleryon as he battled a horde of creatures and warriors.
At twelve, the boy looked like a seventeen-year-old young man. Shield and sword in hand, he moved with a speed and fluidity that reminded me of his father’s grace in combat. The simulation—based off of the Korlethean training programs—had been adapted to his specific ability so that he could use his powers as well. The enemy holograms were created by nanospheres containing bio cells that Vahl could target with his biokinetic power. While the number and strength of his opponents increased, their sizes decreased, making it harder to target them. But that didn’t faze the boy at all. The nanobots littered the floor in a wide radius around him from all the foes he had defeated with a sword, a shield bashing, or a thought.
“Isn’t he magnificent?” Eryon whispered, his voice filled with both awe and pride.
“Godly,” I replied. “He is the Sword of Fate. But how does Fate intend to use him?”
“Daddy!” Lyra shouted, saving Eryon from answering.
The skirt of her blue dress flapping in around her legs, the long, golden locks of her unruly mane flowing in the wind, my little princess came running towards me under the watchful eyes of the Dervhen twins who had been looking after her. They were too young to feel the Tuning, and we’d been careful not to let them know they were prophesied to be mated. But from the moment of her birth, the twins had felt fiercely protective of her. That she’d become their younger sister Elisha’s best friend had only made things better. Just like Vahl and the other Titans, they looked five years older than their current age, and were as prone to pulling pranks as was Zharina.
