Author's Note: I'm amazed how quickly I cranked this chapter in just two days after the previous one. Enjoy!
VII - The Painted Woman
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Once again Grey found Ben in the dreamscape. Once again they forgot about their earlier concerns as they danced and played, losing themselves to joyful respite. Somewhere on their journey, Ben vanished. And Grey was left alone as she searched frantically for him.
Her search brought her to a cyclone of sights and sounds, of visions merging together, of stories intertwining, all spiraling toward a black recess. Grey knew it was pointless to fight its gravity as the clash of tales dragged her toward its center. She fell down into its well, all around she saw fables stream by.
She saw humans clad in furs fighting hairy giants with tusks.
She saw ancient Loroi commanding wrathful furies to lay waste to cities.
She saw humans with narrow gazes looking upon a serpent defying gravity as it swam in white clouds.
She saw a Loroi witch painted in the colors of death, depositing gifts to the impoverished and hopeless whilst scaring away malicious beasts with her magic.
She saw a mob of humans in a desert worshipping a burning eye in the heavens.
She saw thousands of Loroi assembled around a single Philosopher broadcasting his wisdom.
A chorus of humans chanting to their deities under arches of stone, one of them throwing his arms up in praise as he caught sight of a human suspended by wings up above.
A lone Loroi sitting in a barren plain of rocks and dust, singing to the stars in the night sky as they sung back to her.
Titanic males clad in iron and brandishing double-edged weapons, too heavy for even a Loroi to wield.
A Loroi with a large mane of ember hair as bright as the sun long enough to touch her ankles, clad in red and black, raising her nezatin to signal an army to attack.
A human female advertising her naked shoulders in alien attire much too ridiculous for a Loroi’s taste, sitting contently at a wooden table with only a candle light to illuminate a piece of parchment on which she wrote with a feather’s tip dabbed in black ink.
A mushroom blossoming into a cloud of fire, observed from afar by Sentinels satisfied with their triumph.
Hundreds of men marching with militant discipline down a city street, showcasing their armored mitas.
Sometimes the fables overlapped and blurred, merging together into new streams. And the stories of humanity and Loroi fused into one. Sometimes the streams separated, creating new fables altogether. How could one discern truth from legend in the eye of this hypnogogic whirlpool (if truth existed in this storm at all)?
Grey fell further into the black. The turbulence of fables faded away and Grey landed on her back in a field of glowing fungi. She was content to lay in the comfort of their bioluminescence, expecting to see the fungal canopy. She found instead a woman sitting on a ceiling of green grass. A woman with a crown of antlers. She looked down at Grey. Or did she look up? Streaks of blue painted her face, failing to hide her humanity. The woman sitting on the ceiling was near and far, hopelessly out of reach yet proximal.
The woman said, “Tha an saoghal dùisg a’ mealladh. Ann an aislingean lorg sinn fìrinn.”
>What say you?< sent Grey, eager to know what it meant.
“Cluinn mo ghairm, nigheanan Belenus.”
>I don’t understand. Be done with your riddles. Just tell me what you mean.<
Grey tried to reach out, but the more she reached, the further the woman on the ceiling of grass fell away.
>Wait!<
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Greywind woke up. It was still night. Ben lay with his arm across her midsection, his breath warming her chest. Carefully extracting herself from his embrace, Greywind got up from bed and activated her wristcomm’s journal. She hastily guessed which syllables and letters best represented the words she remembered from the dream, writing them down.
During Greywind’s past visits to the island, these spontaneous visions only happened when she was alone with Ben. Cotton and her subordinate Listels tried to capture these subconscious experiences. But it never worked when others tried to record them. Cotton had no explanation for this phenomenon, save for a hypothesis that it was some sort of ‘observer effect’. Even Ben seemed ignorant of them which further added to the mystery.
Whatever they were, Greywind wrote down everything she could remember from these visions. And she had to be quick. Like a composer desperate to jot down a symphony concocted in his dreams, the details of Greywind’s visions quickly faded. More often than not she only succeeded in writing down a fraction of the dream's recollection before it was gone. And the overlapping streams of narrative blurring together made it harder to scrutinize their authenticity.
Greywind sighed as she succeeded in jotting down the words before they eluded her grasp. She could not be sure if these visions really meant anything at all. But if there was some truth, perhaps they could give a clue to the mystery of the human lotai. She deactivated her wristcomm and went back to bed.
Lying on her side, she gazed at her ward. A creature full of mystery. Dawn approached, slowly illuminating the room. Greywind could more clearly see how much her ward had changed this last tozon. His dirty blonde hair seemed to be growing darker. While he still kept his young complexion, he’d grown as tall as a fully mature Loroi male. It seemed a safe bet that he was not done growing yet.
“Wake up, Teigorastir,” she said, gently shaking Ben’s shoulder. “Wake up.”
Ben moaned as he came to. He sputtered his lips, exhausted.
Greywind cocked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to comment what a good morning it is?”
“I would,” Ben grumbled, “if you didn’t ruin it.”
“How did I ruin the morning?”
“You woke me up from a good dream.”
“Really? And what was this good dream?”
“I was dreaming about sleeping.”
Greywind narrowed her eyes. “Silly Earth creature.”
“Vanilla poophead,” Ben mumbled, burying his head into his pillow.
Greywind stroked his dirty blonde hair. “Are you feeling better?”
“I’m okay. I always feel better when I’m with you.”
Greywind came within inches of his face. “You think you can win my favor with flattery, do you?”
Ben shrugged. “Worth a shot.” He earned himself a gentle slap on the head for that.
“Stop being such a tyke,” the old Emperor scolded him.
Ben smirked. “Why? Poking your tender spots is just too much fun.”
Greywind got distracted as Ben’s fingers tiredly wrestled with hers. Ben giggled as he tiredly bent his digits around Greywind’s, squealing as she bent his the wrong way. Ben yielded the duel as Greywind’s blue fingers enmeshed over his submissive fist, her thumb stroking over his. She allowed his fingers to unfold as they pressed fingers and palms together.
“Do you have to go again?”
Greywind was taken aback by such a question. “I only just arrived, Ben. You ask as if I am leaving immediately.”
“I know… but it feels like there’s not enough time to spend with you. Every visit goes too quickly.”
“Do not forget that I have fifty-seven other human wards in need of my attention,” Greywind reminded him. “I give each and every one of them as much time as I can afford. But you get to spend these exclusive nights with me. Even though we shouldn’t. Don’t take it for granted.”
Ben said nothing, folding his arms in.
Greywind rubbed his shoulder. “A good parent, a good warden does not show favoritism, Ben. But you are special to me. That is why I need you to always love your peers equally. To be a good role model. To be there for them when I cannot be.”
Ben scooted closer to Greywind, taking in her vanilla scent. “I try to be.”
“I hope so, First Son.”
His arms stretched around Greywind’s ribs. The old Emperor shivered at the touch.
"Emperor, did you find my Mom yet?"
Greywind hesitated. "We are still looking, Ben." She was silent a moment. "Do you still think of her?" She felt Ben shrug.
"Sometimes." Ben was silent a moment. "Sometimes... I feel like I hate her for leaving me. For giving me away. But... I wonder... just sometimes... if she even thinks of me."
Greywind dared not tell him the truth. He was still not ready for it. "Let go of these worries, my little warrior-to-be. You cannot imagine how fortunate it was that we found you. Adopting you as my human son has been a joy for me." She kissed his dirty blonde hair.
Ben couldn't help but chuckle. "It's funny that you should say you have joy. I've never seen you smile."
"When you have experienced as much as I have, Ben, it becomes harder to smile."
Ben grinned. "You could always fake it."
“Spare me your drollness, boy. We should get up.”
Ben whined, “Can’t we be here just a little longer?”
“The sun is rising, Ben. I have duties to attend to. And you have school today.”
Ben smirked. “Couldn’t you use your authority as Emperor to cancel school as a reward for everyone’s hard work in your absence?”
“Nice try, little tyke. Now up and out.”
They climbed out of bed.
“Emperor?” Ben said before leaving. “Can I at least go to lectures in my Superman shirt?”
Greywind eyed him and his diamond-symboled shirt. “No, Ben. Now stop being a droll and go change into your standard uniform before everyone else wakes up.”
Ben chuckled. "See you later, Emperor." The doors slid open and shut as he left.
The old Emperor sighed as she dressed out of her robe. What silly creatures humans could be. But at least Ben did not seem troubled by the prior night's events.
A Chorus of Stars
Moderator: Outsider Moderators
Re: A Chorus of Stars
Last edited by Snoofman on Sun Dec 24, 2023 7:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: A Chorus of Stars
another great chapter glad you were inspired to write, really enjoyed reading about the Emperor and Ben's relationship
Re: A Chorus of Stars
VIII - Lessons
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The morning started with a quick wash. Followed by a human breakfast. Loroi did not require so much sustenance. After that the inhabitants of the creche usually moved onto either work or lectures.
This particular morning Greywind had summoned her scions, Loroi wards and human adoptees for a family meeting within the arena. Along with each groups’ respective guardians. The old Emperor began by addressing the creche’s general issues and reserved interpersonal conflicts for last. Several pairs of children were called forth to explain problems they were having with other peers which usually manifested in the form of arguments and physical fights. Interpersonal conflicts were inevitable, but the children most often desisted whenever the Emperor came around. Greywind was determined to keep her human and Loroi children unified. Whatever Greywind could not resolve she would entrust to the creche’s counselors and therapists to rectify. Eventually she summoned Ember and Idaho to stand in the center of the circle of seated children. Caretaker Bluespruce made the Emperor aware of the fight that broke out between them the day before.
In a combination of verbal and telepathic communication, Greywind said, “I am not pleased with how you two have treated one another.” She looked at her ten-year old ward. “Idaho, if there is something in particular you do not like about another person or their background, you can either keep these sentiments to yourself. Or… you can politely express your discomfort and explain why. I thought a ward of the Emperor would understand that.”
Idaho lowered his head in shame. Ember grinned smugly. Her satisfied look fell away as Greywind caught on, “And you, Ember! You are not at fault for standing up for your honor or the honor of your relatives within the Yellow Sun Clan. But did it not occur to you that there are better ways to make a peer aware of their mistakes… without violence?”
“But he insulted me,” Ember meagerly defended.
“And you scratched him with your nails,” Greywind countered.
“He deserved it.”
Greywind stepped closer to Ember, looming over her. “And you, my young scion, received retribution. You ought to consider yourself lucky that Idaho is not a Loroi. For injuring a Loroi male is unforgivable.”
>Idaho’s just a human.<
There were shocked gasps from the Loroi within the arena upon receiving that broadcast.
Greywind’s lips pursed as her face contorted into an unhappy look. “Would you care to say that aloud?”
Ember slouched, shrinking under Greywind’s overbearing presence. >But he is just human.<
>Careful, child!< Greywind warned. >That is a dangerous sentiment. One that will not be tolerated in this creche. Apologize.<
>I-< Ember wrestled with her clashing shame and pride. >I am sorry.<
>Now to Idaho.<
Ember turned toward her peer. “I-Idaho,” she said meekly. “I… I am sorry.”
Idaho was taken aback by Ember’s sudden change in attitude.
Greywind said to him, “Now you apologize, Idaho.”
Idaho looked up at his warden.
“Idaho,” Greywind said strictly. “The path to reconciliation starts with an apology. Ember is trying to show you good will. Don’t you agree she deserves the same?”
Idaho groaned with a roll of his eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry too, Ember.”
Greywind approved and directed the two children to rejoin their seated peers. She would make arrangements for Idaho and Ember to receive respective counseling.
The old Emperor sent and said aloud, “Listen well! All of you! This creche is a home for Loroi and humanity alike. We are all citizens of the Union. Which means we are all Loroi under the letter of the law. And must be seen as such. Even our human sojourners, who have always been law-abiding and benign, are worthy of the warrior’s respect. We must remember this.”
Greywind took a moment of silence as she watched her children absorb and process her words. She carried on, “Now before we finish this meeting and resume lectures, does anyone have any questions?”
Several children stuck up their hands.
Greywind started with one, “Paul?”
Paul asked from his seat, “Emperor, all we’ve been eating for the last few weeks is chicken. Can we please get something else to eat?”
“I understand, Paul. Unfortunately it is harder to receive new supplies due to trade restrictions. Luckily the Christmas holiday is approaching and we were fortunate enough to gain some new food for our human inhabitants.”
“Really? Emperor, you rock!”
“Thank you, Paul. Does anyone else have a question?”
Hands shot back up. Greywind picked Cadence.
Cadence asked, “Emperor, can we ban fiction?”
Greywind raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because it’s pointless and too many of my peers won’t stop talking about it. And I find it very distracting.”
Luke rolled his eyes as he called out, “Drama queen!”
“Luke, be silent,” Greywind warned, returning her focus to Cadence. “Fiction is permitted so long as one is able to differentiate fiction from reality.”
“But Emperor-”
“That is that! If you hope to enter the Mizol Academy one day, you must learn to work within disruption, Cadence.”
Cadence silently pouted as she crossed her arms.
The Emperor accepted several more questions from the children, ranging from important to silly.
“Emperor, I’m having trouble with studies.”
“Emperor, I want to learn to be a Doranzer.”
“Azerein, there are some particular Loroi I want to initiate my trials with.”
“Emperor, can we have ponies?”
“Are we ever going to build Disney World on Deinar?”
Greywind had learnt to deal with the silly questions. The one she was not expecting however came from a twelve-year old Qi as he asked casually, “When can we have sex?”
The arena erupted into shocked gasps.
Greywind answered calmly, “Qi, what is the legal age of copulation regarding humans?”
“Uh, sixteen years?”
“There is your answer.”
“But, Emperor,” Qi insisted. “Uh, what if a superior officer orders us to do it?”
A few more boys and girls snickered.
The Emperor answered, “Qi, do you think an educated officer of the Loroi Union would risk her rank or career for illegal copulation?”
Qi shrugged. “I guess… it depends how much of a risk-taker she is.”
Greywind quirked her lips. “But it is illegal nonetheless. So suppose an officer did order you to… copulate… what do you suppose you should do?”
“Uh, say no?”
“And what else?”
“Report them?”
Greywind nodded approvingly. “Smart boy. Now are there any other questions?” Qi was the only child to stick his hand back up. Greywind avoided groaning out, “What is it, Qi?”
“Emperor, we’re going to have a lot of visitors coming to the creche for Christmas. Is that right?”
“Correct.”
“So… there are going to be a lot of adult Loroi. Right?”
“That seems obvious.”
“So… what if they want to get intimate?”
“How intimate?”
“Like kissing and hugging.”
Greywind sighed. “Hugging and kissing is acceptable as long as it’s proper.”
Luke raised his hand. “Emperor, what counts as proper?”
“It means nothing sexual, Luke.”
The human children, having grown up alongside a race of straightforward beings, were bound to learn from their Loroi peers about copulation. So it seemed best to teach them proper sexual conduct as well as laws regarding mating. Though it could make some of the human adults uncomfortable.
Sara didn’t even bother to raise her hand and asked, “So, Emperor, what counts as a proper kiss then?”
Greywind answered, “A kiss on the cheek or forehead is proper.”
“What about the lips?”
“Lips are not proper.” Greywind added as an afterthought, “And therefore not allowed.”
“But Idaho and Moonrune did it.”
“And they have been punished for it!”
“Why is Idaho so lucky?” Qi blurted out.
Idaho failed to hide his shameful grin as more children laughed.
Greywind called order back to the assembly. “Children!”
Kirk asked, “What about kissing the nose?”
Greywind couldn’t believe she was hearing this. “I don’t see the point in nose kissing, but I suppose it’s fine.”
More giggles.
Ripley asked, “What about the ear?”
“What?! Ripley, what’s the point in kissing someone’s ear?”
The children laughed. Even a few adults betrayed their professionalism, trying to hide their snickering.
“Quiet!” Greywind commanded in a hoarse voice. The humans and Loroi were quick to silence. The old Emperor cleared her throat. “This is not a laughing matter. I can see what some of you are trying to do. If you think you can dissuade me with adorable acts of humor, you are very mistaken. Copulation is a sacred act. So let me reiterate the rules, as I will remind all visitors. Hugging allowed. But no touching private parts. Of any kind! Even adults are prohibited from copulation on the creche grounds. Failure to comply will have severe consequences.” She hammered her left fist into her right palm to emphasize. “And finally, no kissing anything other than the cheeks or forehead.”
Kirk said, “But, Emperor, you said-”
“Forget what I said,” said Greywind, “and do what I say! No more questions for today. Return to your lectures. Is that understood?”
A few children mumbled in response.
“I can’t hear you!”
The children answered collectively, “Yes, Emperor!”
“Dismissed!”
Young and old rose from their seats. Teachers and caregivers guided the children out of the arena.
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Some children absorbed the teachers’ lessons passionately. For some it was just another boring lecture. The caregivers of the creche came to understand this trouble in human youth’s attention span over the years. That is why the creche’s teachers taught with formal lectures combined with immersive simulations. To stimulate the children’s attentiveness and problem solving skills. Every formal lecture was followed up with a review to ensure that all students were up to speed. Students were also encouraged to partake in group discussions following the end of every lecture to promote critical thinking.
The methods of Loroi education were not perfect, but they worked. Beverly Miller had requested on several occasions to collect data on the children in the form of a standardized test she called an NAEP. And the woman from Queens was pleasantly shocked to find that the average student of the West Ginazeigo Isle, who hadn’t even reached their teen years save for one, possessed literary and mathematical proficiency that would put Terran high-schoolers to shame.
The children never received homework. Such a concept seemed tedious to the Loroi. The children were encouraged to study, especially those who showed promise in academic fields. But homework struck the Loroi as an inefficient method of learning. Some of the teaching and grading methods from Terran institutions baffled the Loroi. Entrusting children to figure things out through homework and their own intuition seemed ineffectively uncaring.
While certain subjects were essential, students were not expected to be proficient in every subject. Students partook in a broad array of subjects to expand their awareness of knowledge and the many career paths that lay ahead of them. The children’s eventual careers would be chosen based on what the child seemed most skilled at. While the children could voice their desire for another career path, Greywind and the caregivers offered counsel to these kids to steer them on a path that would best benefit the individual’s desires as well as Clan Rainfall.
That is not to say that all of the Lori’s teaching methods were suitable for humans. For one thing, humans could not receive sanzai, which added to the burden of teaching dozens of humans orally. Hence why the Loroi teachers of the creche were happy to have their human counterparts. The Loroi were further frustrated upon learning that, unlike the malleable members of castes like the Soroins, many of the human staff were not keen on assuming multiple responsibilities. While each Loroi had a specific role within the creche, Loroi had to be flexible and able to take on other responsibilities when the need arose. The human adults did not respond well to it initially. Housemaster Crescent despaired within the first few years of the Emperor’s adoption program over the human staff’s complaints about overburdening work and stressful schedules. Compromises had to be made. The humans’ job descriptions had to be reevaluated without diminishing the creche’s proficiency. And while some of the human staff had improved at multi-tasking over the years, some were just too stubborn to change much to the Loroi’s infuriation.
>No wonder most humans are civilians,< some of the Loroi despaired.
Wolfgang Schreiber was among the humans that were too stubborn to take on responsibilities that lay outside his area of expertise. Yet what he lacked in flexibility, he made up for in his capacity to win his students’ attention at nearly every lecture. The human and Loroi students loved his lectures.
Wolfgang usually started every lesson with a formal, “Gotten morgen,” followed by a question.
The query of the day: “Did you know that humans nearly went extinct once?”
While such a blunt question seemed disturbing, it certainly caught the children’s attention. Wolfgang’s lecture today was about the Stone Age. His human students ranged from eight- to ten-year olds. His Loroi students present ranged from three to five years. He covered the various periods of humans at the time, from the habits of Paleolithic cave dwellers to the sophistication of Neolithic hunter-gatherers transitioning into organized communities that would go on to domesticate animals and cultivate plants.
Wolfgang told an epic tale of how humans nearly perished during the Toba Volcanic Eruption on planet Earth. How humanity’s population plummeted to as few as a couple thousand. Maybe less. He went on to explain how humans survived by relying on their nomadic instincts by moving from one place to another, usually by following herds of animals or flocks of birds during migratory seasons. By foraging for nuts, berries and other plant-based foods when game became scarce. What intrigued the Loroi about this particular era of history was how humanity went on to conquer several species, like the gray wolf whose progeny would go on to become the domesticated dog. Most fascinating of all was the fact that there once existed other human species.
Following the lecture’s conclusion, Wolfgang allowed the students to begin class discussion.
Leaf was the first to voice her thoughts on today’s lecture, “Teacher, I thought there was only one humanity race.”
Wolfgang shook his head. “Nein. There used to be many. Scientists say there could have been as many as five different kinds of human species walking on Earth a hundred thousand years ago. Nine kinds dating as far back as three hundred thousand years ago.”
“Not possible.”
Wolfgang smiled knowingly as he pulled up holographic images of different kinds of archaic humans. Loroi and human children gazed at fossil bones and illustrative depictions of humanity’s ancient ancestors and cousin species. Wolfgang could see their looks ranging from revulsion to intrigue. The Loroi and human youth voiced their thoughts:
“Woah.”
“Weird.”
“Neat.”
“Fascinating.”
Paul shrieked, “Ugh! They’re hideous.”
“Paul, that’s not very nice,” Kirk pointed out. “They’re just cave men.”
“Teacher Schreiber,” Antimony stuck up her blue hand, a habit she and the rest of this generation of Loroi learnt growing up alongside their human peers. “If many kinds of humans once existed, what happened to them?”
“They went extinct. The one that survived was homo sapiens. Us.”
“Teacher, why did all the other human species die out?”
“Many reasons,” Wolfgang explained. “Sometimes from disease or injury. Sometimes when the climate became too inhospitable. Or when food was too scarce. Being eaten by predators. But the most compelling evidence is that they could not weave narratives like homo sapiens.”
Antimony cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“Unlike other animals, sapient humans developed the ability to create and believe in sophisticated narratives. Stories that could bind groups, helping them increase their numbers and pass on these ideas to their descendants. We basically outbred the other humans because we could organize better than them. However, we modern humans are not all purely homo sapiens either.”
Antimony quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean, Teacher?”
“Throughout our long history, homo sapiens has survived by either eliminating other races. Or by absorbing them.”
Ember pointed out, “You mean homo sapiens bred with other human species?”
Wolfgang grinned at Ember’s quick thinking. “Exactly.”
Now Sara shot up from her seat, shock written on her face. She pointed to an illustrated archaic human on the hologram. “You mean that big nose dude,” she pointed to another archaic, “did it with that hairy troll? To make us?!”
Wolfgang searched for the words at Sara’s forwardness, “Um, not those two per-say.”
"But something like that?"
"Probably."
“Ew!”
The children burst into hysterical laughter.
“Alright, alright! Quiet down!” Wolfgang called order back to the class. Antimony stuck up her hand again. “Yes?”
Antimony asked, “Teacher, if the… homo say-pee-ins… absorbed other kinds of humans, does that mean all modern humans are hybrids?”
“It depends, Antimony,” Wolfgang pointed out. He brought up a holographic globe of Earth, pointing to various places as he explained, “Homo sapiens originally evolved around three hundred thousand years ago within Africa before their descendants migrated across the globe into Europe and East Asia. Even further as the eons passed. It was during this mass migration that they came across the few other humans that were left. For example, one other kind of human that went extinct around thirty to fifteen thousand years ago was Denisovan. But some Denisovans bred with homo sapiens. Today about one twentieth of humans originating from Australia and the South East Pacific Islands share Denisovan DNA.”
Ember could not help but ask, “Does that mean Sister Judith is a Denisovan?”
The children laughed again.
“Children, quiet down,” Wolfgang ordered. “Ember, please don’t say that. Some humans might find that offensive. And also… no.”
Paul shot up from his chair and asked, “Were there other kinds of humans in Europe?”
“As a matter of fact yes, Paul,” Wolfgang confirmed. “In Europe, homo sapiens came across the Neanderthals.”
“What is a Neandertal?” asked Veil.
“That’s a good question, my curious Loroi friend,” said Wolfgang, looking at his clock. “Unfortunately we don’t have the time to talk about this now, but am happy to say that we will be covering more on human ancestry at our next lecture. Enjoy the rest of your lessons, students. Class dismissed.”
The students applauded Wolfgang before leaving for their next classes.
Greywind rose from her seat. “A most fascinating lecture, Herr Schreiber,” the old Emperor complimented as she approached him.
“Danke sehr, Azerein,” Wolfgang thanked.
During her visits, Greywind sometimes liked to see first hand how the children were progressing and the content of their education. And she was pleased.
“I find humanity’s taming of wild wolves to be very fascinating,” said Greywind. “Though I am surprised you did not mention how humans domesticated farm animals.”
“That’s because humans didn’t start farming until the end of the Ice Age, Azerein. The glacial climate of our homeworld and the dry, cold atmosphere at the time would not be suitable for agriculture. Much less herding animals.”
“Indeed. Deinarids are a tough people, though our histories seem to confirm that they never faced anything as daunting as a glacial climate. Not even the Somail and Enogi, who are accustomed to freezing weather, have faced such perils.”
Wolfgang grinned. “Well, I’m flattered you hold humanity in such high esteem.”
“Herr Schreiber, you seem so well acquainted with human histories. Perhaps you could help me figure something out.” Wolfgang listened expectantly as Greywind recited the words from her dream.
Wolfgang offered only a bemused response, “What is that?”
Greywind made up a story, “I have come across a particular recitation from an unknown source. My Listels have been unable to decrypt it.”
“Have you tried Rosetta Stone?”
Greywind quirked an eyebrow.
Wolfgang grunted, “Forgive me. Bad joke. Anyway, Azerein, languages are bit beyond my skill. Although if I had to guess, I’d say this recitation sounds like an Indo-European language. Germanic most likely. Maybe Slavic.”
The next wave of Loroi and human children entered the hall.
“Forgive me, Azerein, but I must prepare for the next lesson.”
“I understand,” said Greywind. “Thank you anyway.”
Wolfgang stopped her a moment, “Azerein, might I suggest you meet Sister Judith? She is an expert on languages.”
“I already have. She could only guess that it could be a Romance language.”
“Well, I wish you luck in your search, Azerein.”
==== (+) ====
Teidar Ragan Icespear had been fuming all through the night. Barely getting in enough sleep, which further fueled her aggravation and sense of hopelessness. She had inhaled five cups of noiler to sooth herself, but not all the fungal stimulants of Perrein could put her mind at ease. After the Emperor’s address to the children of the creche, Patrix came to fetch Icespear to begin her first combat instruction for the children. They were leading a class of six to eight year old humans to the grassy hills some distance from the creche grounds. Icespear snarled as the wind tossed her spiky, cerulean hair into her face several times.
“Take it easy there, Teidar,” said Patrix.
“I can’t take it easy, Irish male,” Icespear grumbled.
“Proxi-Irish,” Patrix corrected. “Though I take pride in my Irish heritage, I was born on one of the Proxima colonies. You know, I’ve always thought you and I were quite alike, Icespear.”
“Teidar or Ragan will do,” said Icespear. “Anyway, how so?”
“Jeez, no need to be so grumpy,” said Patrix as they walked on. “What I understand is you grew up on a world of seas like me.”
“Proxima is nothing like Taben,” Icespear said firmly. “Proxima’s meager seas only come out every couple tozons when the planet passes through perihelion. Puddles compared to Taben’s stormy oceans. Your trials on Proxima could not possibly compare with what I faced on Taben.”
Patrix shrugged. “Fair enough. But we Proxis faced some hardships of our own. Like how it’s so bloody cold most of the time. Takes fifteen years for Proxima to revolve around Alpha Centauri B. In that time we only get three years of summer heat. The rest of that time the bloody planet’s so cold your toes will fall off. I remember this one lad, Fredrik, came all the way from England, Earth to join our security team. Got separated from a cargo truck en route to neighboring colony. Took eight bloody hours to find him. Man got frost bite and lost most of his toes too. Dumb bastards those English.”
“Is there a point to this story?” Icespear asked.
“My point is Fredrik might have been a dumb bastard, but he kept going. Plus he made up for his stupidity with his good humor. We shared some good laughs over a good many pints. I’ll never forget this old Earth proverb he shared with us.”
“Which was?”
“‘If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.’”
“I don’t follow.”
“My point is, you’re pissed. I don’t need telepathy to tell. It sucks doing a job that you hate.”
Icespear had learnt the slang ‘suck’. “It sucks harder than the Well of Souls.”
“Aye so it seems. Coming from a frozen colony that demanded shitty work on a daily basis, I can sympathize. But look at it this way, teaching these children combat knowledge is just another challenge to overcome. Right?”
Icespear roller her eyes to the sky. “I suppose that is one way to see it.”
“And does a Teidar, who has braved the treacherous seas of Taben before getting reassigned to the hard-asses of the Teidar Academy, back down from a challenge?”
“Shred that.”
“That’s the spirit, lass. So then,” Patrix set down the box they were carrying together, “just watch and learn.” Patrix ordered the children to line up. “Alright, little wains! Listen up! Today we’re going over the basics of Loroi firearms.”
“Cool!”
“Awesome!”
“Settle down,” Patrix ordered. “Now of course these firearms do not have actual ammunition. You’re not ready to handle live weapons until you’re older and show proper discipline. But you’ll get your chance to fire some dummy rounds to get a feel of how a weapon behaves. So let’s start off with weapon safety. Teidar Ragan Icespear, the floor is yours.”
Icespear looked around in confusion. “What floor? There are no floors here. Just rocks and grass.”
“I mean it’s time to teach.”
Icespear pointed to herself, “You mean me?”
“Do you see any other Icespears around here?”
The children giggled.
“Aye! Pull yourselves together,” said Patrix to the kids. He held out the plasma rifle to Icespear. “Ragan, just start off by explaining how a rifle works and how to handle it. Test them a bit to get their gears turning.”
Icespear cocked an eyebrow. “Gears turning?”
“You know, get them to use some of their critical thinking.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Her orange eyes flared as an invisible force snatched the rifle from Patrix’s hands into Icespears.
“Alright, runts,” Icespear addressed the children. “To use a weapon safely, you need to be familiar with how it works. And you need to know what each part of it is called. So we will start with some basic weaponry knowledge. This will be important if you manage to be accepted into military service. So be quiet and pay attention.”
Patrix tapped a button on his pad. Icespear took notice. “Patrix, what are you doing?”
“Recording,” he said with a grin. “You know, so we can go over your missteps and improve.”
Icespear groaned out, “Whatever. Alright, children. Listen well. Weapons are not toys. They are devices built to kill. Using them irresponsibly can have fatal consequences.”
A six-year old boy stuck up his hand.
“Yes, Jabari?”
“What means fatal?” A recent arrival to the creche, Jabari still had trouble with basic Trade.
“It means it can kill you.”
“Is bad?”
Icespear’s gaze narrowed. “Well dying is not good.” Some of Greywind’s human wards seemed a bit slow. She walked up toward little Jabari, holding up the firearm on display. “So then, Jabari, what is this called?”
Jabari stated, “A musket?”
“No!” Icespear hollered. She bent over to his level. “There are no muskets in the modern military, Jabari. Blaster rifle! You hear me? Blaster rifle!” She stood straight back up. “Now… what is this in my hand?”
Jabari hesitated. “B-blaster rifle?”
“Good. We are making progress. Now a blaster rifle is also called a plasma rifle.” Icespear moved onto the next child. “Ripley, what does a plasma rifle shoot?”
Ripely answered confidently, “A laser beam.”
Icespear groaned, “No! Plasma beam! You hear me, Ripley? A plasma rifle shoots plasma beams.”
“Ragan, does a plasma beam glow like a laser beam?”
Icespear sighed. “In a sense, yes.”
“So they’re the same then?”
“No, they are not,” Icespear stated.
“Is a laser beam made of photons?”
It struck Icespear as odd that the little Ripley understood what photons were but could no distinguish hot plasma from laser beams. “Yes, Ripley.”
“Are plasma beams made of photons?”
Icespear tried explaining, “Well, not made of photons. It’s super heated particles… which happen to release photons.”
“So it is a laser beam.”
“No, it’s not! You’re just wrong! Plasma rifles shoot plasma beams. And that is that!”
Ripley pouted, “Fine then. But I’m calling it a laser when you’re not around.”
“You- that-” Icespear slouched with a sigh. “I am not having an argument with a child. Let’s move on!”
Icespear went on to explain the anatomy of a plasma rifle, how to load its ammunition battery as well as field stripping the weapon. All the while Patrix recorded the Teidar with his pad, struggling to suppress his snickers as the children kept finding ways to make Icespear snarl out her impatience with them.
“The guys are going to love this,” Patrix snickered silently.
==== (+) ====
Some Loroi would argue that philosophy served no practical purpose for a warrior and therefore should be left to the ponderers among menfolk who could afford to spend their thoughts on such matters. The old Emperor on the other hand considered philosophy not only enriching for a Loroi’s psyche, but a sharpener for critical thinking. A practical and desirable skill which Greywind hoped to cultivate within her familial clan’s youth, strengthening their intellectual and tactical edge.
In the time Judith had lived within the Union, she had learnt much about the Loroi’s ancient fables. While ancient Loroi history was one of endless bloodshed, the Loroi also pondered the meaning of their own existence. Posing similar questions as many human thinkers come before:
Why do we exist?
Where do we come from?
Why are Loroi the only telepathic species and no other?
What happens after physical death?
During her time employed at the creche, Judith had captivated her Loroi students with ancient Terran mythologies. The Listels were enthralled by such knowledge, even if it were mere legend. Judith taught the Loroi of the creche how humans went from worshipping forest spirits to erecting polytheistic idols. How European and Eurasian pagans were outcompeted by the rise of monotheistic cults, which would go on to form the foundation of some of Earth’s most successful religions. How the enlightenment of spiritual movements compelled humans to embrace humanist ideals whilst exploitive cults enabled the dominance and abuse of the masses. How the unreconcilable aspects of dogma compelled original thinkers to question traditional religions and organize new sects that defied the enforcement of worshipping deities and renounced blind obedience to canonical tenets.
While Loroi were not strangers to supernatural beliefs, polytheism and monotheism were quite foreign concepts. Some of the creche’s scholars even boasted that ancient Loroi would have laughed at the idea of a gigantic male wielding lightning bolts or mystical serpents that could defy gravity.
Judith countered cooly to such ridicule, “Is it not equally absurd to believe a green-haired harpy who commanded furious spirits to lay waste to entire cities on Deinar and made a hill of skulls her throne?”
The Loroi were also baffled by Judith’s commitment to her strange religion. But respected that the old nun clung to her spiritual beliefs for the same reasons the Loroi were fiercely devoted to their ancient stories.
Today Judith was teaching the most elder of the human children about the Loroi philosophy of panpsychism.
“The mind is a fundamental feature of the world which exists throughout the universe,” said Judith amidst her circle of twelve human students. “That is the primary principle of the philosophy of the mind. Some thinkers throughout history have argued that self-awareness is just a byproduct of evolution. Basically a mistake. But panpsychism holds that mind is a fundamental feature of reality. Some might argue that it is so necessary that reality would not exist without it.”
Judith was interrupted as Greywind entered the room.
“Do not be alarmed, Sister Judith,” said the old Emperor. “I would simply like to participate in your lecture.”
“Oh, please join us, your highness,” Judith motioned with her hand. Greywind took a seat as Judith continued, “Among the Loroi’s many spiritual beliefs, panpsychism has been one of the most prevailing schools of thought among Loroi philosophers. Many have speculated that sanzai is an exotic form of integrating with reality. As well as their other psychic talents like moving objects with just a thought. Or being able to heat objects without instrumentality or combustible compounds. In fact, some Loroi believe that thought itself permeates all matter and energy within the universe. By coincidence Shintoism on Earth shares a similar belief. They call it kami. But the Loroi philosophy takes it a step further. Instead of calling it a mystical force, some Loroi philosophers believe there is in fact consciousness within matter and energy itself.”
Motoko raised her hand. “Sensei, if that’s true, then why don’t Loroi sense it in lifeless matter?”
Judith answered, “Some speculate that consciousness on such small scale is not sophisticated enough to be detected.” Motoko didn’t seem to understand. Judith explained, “Think of it this way: what is a brain?”
“Billions of neurons.”
“Exactly. Very good, Motoko. We don’t know what consciousness is. We just know that when when enough neurons come together, they create a network. A network called synapses. A synapses is what gives rise to consciousness. What we also know is that it is trying to make sense of everything that exists outside yourself. It does this by solving problems. That’s what intelligence is; the ability to solve problems.
“Now some proponents of panpsychism propose that maybe all matter and energy in the universe acts in a similar way.” The children gave puzzled looks. Judith tried to explain it another manner, “Listen. There are four basic elements for organic life: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen. Now when each of these elements are separated from one another, they just act as physical laws intended. But… when combined in just the right way, the form a profound mechanism. We call this mechanism a living cell. So you see children? Alone these four elements mean nothing. But combine them in just the right way, they become a living thing. And then that living thing goes on to interact with other living constructs. Each of these mechanisms meet, react and combine into new forms of possibilities. And when you introduce more elements into living cells, the mechanism starts change and learn. Giving rise to mutations and adaptions.”
The children nodded in understanding.
Judith continued, “Now you’re catching on. Very good. And this is what Loroi philosophers believe when it comes to telepathy and psychokinetic powers. The Loroi mind is so sophisticated that perhaps it is merely communicating with conscious matter and energy. Because less sophisticated globs of matter, while undetectably conscious, have not organized themselves into operating systems that can intelligibly resist the influence of the Loroi psyche. Now mind you all this is purely speculative. But… it could explain why Unsheathed can influence the movement of matter by just thinking it for example. On a personal note, the Loroi’s psychokinetic abilities has become the focus of many Terran religions.”
Ben asked, “Why?”
“Because the Loroi might be able make their own power.” The children gave the old nun some odd looks. Judith carried on, “No, I’m serious. Let me tell you a quick story. Before coming to the Union, I was summoned to the Vatican to speak with Pope Luke I and Archbishop Giuseppe, where the holy father honored me by explaining in person my new assignment to accompany the Archbishop into Union territory where we might carry out some missionary work and establish a new church on Azimol. But there was another man present for this meeting. Brother Guy Consolmagno. A monk and also director of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences.
“Ever since humanity made official contact with the Loroi, many scientific clerics of the Vatican have become very interested in their psychic abilities. Brother Guy shared these views and, with the Holy Father’s blessing, asked me to witness the psychic abilities of the Loroi. Particularly Unsheathed. And to learn all that I could about it from the Loroi themselves.”
“Sister, why would some old guys want learn about Loroi’s powers?” Kassad asked.
“Kassad, is that any way to speak of your elders?” Judith gently admonished. “Anyway, one of the oldest scientific principles is that matter and energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Which means that new matter and new energy can never enter the universe. Scientists still cannot explain where the Unsheathed get their energy from. So, children, what do you think?”
Motoko guessed, “Maybe it’s generated from an exotic power source in their bodies?”
“Possibly,” said Judith. “But where is the power source?”
Ben guessed, “Well, the Soia seeded many of the worlds in the Local Bubble. Maybe the food the Soia made gives the Loroi the energy.”
“Intriguing,” said Judith. “But if that were true, how come it only powers the Loroi and not other Soia-Liron species?”
An eleven-year old girl, Bean guessed, “Maybe the Loroi don’t have psychic powers. Maybe they’re just high and are infecting other sentients with bio-chemicals in the atmosphere. Which in turn makes them believe that the Loroi are magical. But in fact we are all just tripping together.”
Everyone gave Bean an odd look.
“Bean,” said Kassad, “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”
Judith pursed her lips, looking up to heaven. “Not a very enlightening theory, Bean. But creative.”
Greywind raised an odd eyebrow at Judith’s praise.
Bean beamed smugly at Kassad. “See? I’m creative.”
“Yeah, creatively insane,” Kassad shot back.
“Kassad, be nice,” said Ben.
“Don’t tell me what to do, mama’s boy.”
“Kassad!” Greywind cautioned with a wave of her index.
Judith asked, “Nyota?”
Nyota, twelve years old and a fellow christian, looked up at the old nun. “Sister Judith?”
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Judith pointed out. “Take a guess. Where do you think the Loroi’s telepathic and telekinetic powers comes from?”
Nyota silently thought it over. She guessed, “The Loroi create it.”
“But energy can’t be created or destroyed,” Motoko pointed out.
“So it seems,” said Judith. “But maybe Nyota is onto something. Now mind you, children, this is merely philosophical speculation. But even philosophy had its place in advancing science. Some people believe that the Loroi maybe don’t get their powers from a source. But rather they make it.”
“Sister Judith, are you saying that thought makes energy?” Ben asked.
“I’m not claiming it does,” said Judith. “I’m saying that it is worth considering. Many faiths, human and otherwise, claim that the universe was created out of an act of sheer will. Creation by mere thought. A powerful message. So if that is true, who is to say that thinking creatures like ourselves can’t do the same?”
Motoko interrupted, “Sister Judith, no offense but that doesn’t sound very scientific. And I don’t think the Listels would agree with you.”
Judith laughed. “No. I don’t suspect they would. Mind you, this isn’t science. Science may give us a definite answer eventually. You must not agree with me simply because I offer this idea. I ask you only to approach this with an open mind. To think. That’s what philosophy is all about. To think and trade ideas so that it may bring us closer to the truth.” Her clock chimed. “And that signals the end of today’s lesson. Enjoy the rest of your day, children.”
“Freedom,” Kassad hooted. A few others agreed as they left the room, looking forward to pursuing some personal interests.
Bean stepped in front of Greywind. “Emperor? I have something to tell you.”
“What is it, Bean?” Greywind asked.
“Bye.” Without another word, Bean skipped away out of class.
Greywind sighed. “I have heard many stories of strange humans over the years. But that child certainly seems idiosyncratic.”
“Cruel,” Judith muttered, “but good word use. Bean’s demeanor is… unique I admit. But she’s harmless.”
“Not all the caregivers are convinced.”
“Trust me, Emperor. I’ve seen disturbing children. And Bean is quite sweet once you get to know her. And she’s quite gentle with the toddlers.”
Bean was rescued eight months ago, discovered playing in a trash hill by waste disposal workers on the outskirts of Adadis. Unlike the other children rescued from the Great Wastelands, Bean was trafficked onto Deinar. Sadly she could not give any reliable information about the criminals that had smuggled her. Just a recounting of how Bean fled after blinding one of her handlers with aerosol and incapacitating another with a steel rod, her lotai aiding her escape from her abductors. Her explosive personality and disturbing humor made some of the inhabitants uncomfortable. There were concerns that a child with such an unstable personality was not fit to reside at the creche. Despite showing signs of clinical depression and PTSD, Bean was harmless, cheerful and awkwardly affectionate. She also had an affinity for building and engineering. The child was brilliant, but Greywind couldn’t imagine Bean getting along with a team of disciplined Gallens with her attitude. Perhaps her trials would determine if she were fit for duty.
“By the way, Emperor,” said Judith. “How goes your research of the demon tongue?”
“I beg your pardon?” Greywind asked.
“Sorry, bad joke.”
“Indeed.”
“I was referring to your search for the strange language you shared with me, your highness.”
“Not much luck. But that’s not what I came here for, Sister Judith. I wanted to speak with you privately if you do not mind.”
“Of course. How may I be of service, Emperor?”
“Why don’t you join me in the gardens for tea?”
Judith accepted the Emperor’s invitation.
Attendant Link set up a small table with tea and refreshments in the gardens for Judith and Greywind. The old Emperor took a refreshing sip of her rose petal tea. Judith grimaced as she sipped the synthetic coffee.
“I have overheard Miss Miller commenting that milk improves the taste of the synthetic coffee,” Greywind suggested.
“No thank you,” said Judith. “I prefer to taste coffee as it is. While I am not against sampling ice cream occasionally, milk has never really been part of the filipino diet anyway.”
“I see,” said the old Emperor. “Now Judith, I want to speak with you concerning last night’s meeting. Why did you ask about returning to Terran territory?”
“Oh, Emperor, it’s not really important.”
Greywind did not accept that. “Judith, I think it seems important to you. Even without sanzai, I can tell from gesture when a sapient seems troubled. I ask only that you be honest. You can trust me. Now… will you please tell me if there is something troubling you?”
Judith was silent a moment. She took another sip of coffee. “Emperor… the truth is… I have felt a strong desire to return to Earth.”
“Why?”
“The reasons are many. And personal. But… I do not want you to think that I think negatively of you. But I… I must know… is there a risk of war?”
“I assume you are referring to tensions between the Terran Confederacy and the Loroi Union.”
Judith nodded.
Greywind assured, “Judith, my ruling cabinet and I are hard at work to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
“But there is a risk that it could happen?” Judith stated more than asked.
“I cannot deny the possibility. Is that what seems to be troubling you?”
Judith nodded again. “Yes, Emperor.”
“Judith, while I am confident that diplomacy will win out, surely you are aware it might safer for you to remain in Union territory until our two nations are on friendlier terms again.”
“I am.”
“So then why would you want to risk a journey back to Earth? Is there some urgency?”
“Well,” Judith hesitated, “it’s complicated.”
“Try to make it simple then.”
Judith sighed. “Emperor, I have unfinished matters back on Earth. Personal matters.”
“You are referring to your former assignment to your clerical superiors?”
“Not just that.”
“Well what then?”
“Emperor, you would laugh if I told you.”
“Sister Judith, look at me.” Judith did just that. “Does this look like a face that could laugh?”
Judith shrugged in reply, “Probably not.”
“So?”
“I…” Judith mustered up her courage. “I think I’m losing my faith.”
“You mean your faith in your religion?”
Judith nodded meekly.
“Is that all? Judith, I mean no disrespect, but has it not occurred to you that all sapients go through a phase of questioning their personal beliefs?”
“But my faith is precious to me, Emperor,” Judith insisted. “Just as warrior honor is precious to you.”
“Help me understand then, Sister Judith. Why do you think you are losing your faith?”
Judith explained as best she could. She recounted what her personal experiences within the Union had imprinted upon her. Expressed the epiphanies that Loroi culture had imbued. And the incredible shock of the Loroi’s more brutal nature, striking Judith to her core. But the Loroi’s capacity for kindness and mercy made Judith question if the Loroi were really as ruthless as the other races claimed. The fact that the Loroi wiped out an entire interstellar empire in the name of peace and self-defense further complicated the matter. The separation from Judith’s homeworld had made the nun aware of just how small humans were in a very large galaxy. That vast distance between Judith and all she had left behind had made her question if her deity really was as omnipotent as her doctrine boasted. In the grand scheme of cosmic events, it forced Judith to ask herself a terrible question for the first time in her life:
“Does God even exist?”
Greywind absorbed and processed Judith’s troubles. “You are a mendicant servant. I have met quite a few Terran diplomats and military officers asking me outright if I believe in their God deity. But do you know what I consider ironic? You never asked me that question once.”
Judith could not deny that was funny. She laughed, “I didn’t think it proper to burden you with my beliefs.”
“You consider beliefs to be a burden?”
“Emperor, beliefs can enlighten us. Liberate us. But convincing others to accept them weighs on us.”
Greywind could not deny that. “Wise words. Judith, thanks to you and our archives provided by Terran scholars, I have a better understanding of Terran religions. There are many things to be admired about Christianity. Indeed in many of the Terran creeds. But I do not believe in your God deity.”
“I know, Emperor.” Judith took another sip of coffee. “And I respect that.”
“Judith, you said that beliefs can enlighten and liberate the mind. Being forced to acknowledge that our beliefs may be wrong seems daunting. Overwhelming even. But have you not considered that maybe this is a good thing?”
“I don’t know, Emperor. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think. I feel confused. Lost. My mind is burning with questions. Questions that desperately need answering.”
“Can you not find those answers here?”
“Emperor, humans across old Earth had many ideas of where we came from. The Bible and Torah say we were made from clay. Transformed into residents of paradise before disobedience cast us out. The Buddhists claim we humans were once beings of pure light, moving without the need of mechanical aid or sustenance. My own Philippine culture has an old folk tale since before the arrival of Catholic missionaries saying that the winds from the land and sea came together to make bamboo. And out of this bamboo came the first man and woman. Science has refuted all these claims, saying that we are just apes that came from the primates and rodents lucky enough to survive the perils of prehistory.
“But science also gave us new hope with recent discoveries. Advancements in quantum physics and neuroscience suggested that maybe, just maybe, we aren’t merely the sum of our parts. That perhaps there is more to us than meets the eye. Then humanity found out they were not alone in the universe. And there was another special being called Loroi. A race that could speak without speaking. That could influence the world around them by mere thought and detect living creatures across a span of lightyears. When I learnt of all this, it did not make me question my faith then. It gave me hope. Hope that perhaps the Loroi could do what we humans have only wished we could do.”
“And what, Sister Judith, is that?” Greywind asked.
Judith answered, “You, Emperor Greywind, can see another person’s soul. I thought perhaps by learning more about the Loroi, we humans could in time learn how to find the soul ourselves. If we can find the soul, maybe we could finally find God. And yet, when a Loroi looks at us, they see nothing.”
Greywind was taken aback by such an observation. “That is not true, Judith. That is not how I see you. What we Loroi see is not necessarily a soul of a living thing. It is merely a mental projection of a Loroi’s conscious mind trying to give form to a detectable presence. Besides, humans are merely invisible to sanzai. That doesn’t mean you are… empty inside.”
“Not all Loroi think so,” Judith said sadly.
“I cannot deny it. But those Loroi are narrow minded. Ignorant. Belligerent. You and our human community here are safe from their prejudice. Protected by the law.”
“I have no doubt about that, Emperor. You have showered these children in kind affection. But I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about humanity at large.”
“You worry about something beyond your control,” Greywind meant that as an ease more than criticism.
“I worry about the future, Emperor. I, like so many of my kind, came into this world so certain of our place in it. I thought I knew what I was once.”
“And what did you think you were, Sister Judith?”
“A soul in a body. A creation of God. I truly believed that the Loroi could be the answer to humanity’s biggest spiritual questions. I still want to believe that. But for the first time in my life, I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
Judith took another sip of coffee, cradling the cup in her hands. “If I don’t have a soul… and if I wasn’t made in God’s image… then what am I?”
Greywind took in all of this as she sipped her rose tea. “Is this what humans call a faith crisis?”
Judith shrugged. “I don’t know what to call it.”
Greywind placed her tea down. “I understand your distress. Do you really want to go back to Earth that badly?”
“Emperor, I do. I must. Not merely for spiritual reasons. But for my colleagues. My friends. My relatives that I left behind. War or no war, I have unfinished business. I… I haven’t fully made peace with everyone in my past.”
That surprised the Emperor. “Judith, you seem to be one of the most gentle humans I know. Surely you have not wronged someone to the point that you feel you must make peace with them.”
Judith sighed. “As I said, Emperor, it’s complicated.”
Greywind offered in comfort, “Judith, I care for your well-being. And wish only for your happiness if it does not jeopardize duty. I do not want to deny you a safe journey back to Earth if that is what you want. But I also do not wish to see you go. You have been a contributing member of this creche. An affectionate caregiver. And an effective teacher. You have given the troubled youth here direction. Purpose. Many Loroi boast that only warriors can bring something of worth to society. I take pride in our warrior honor. But you, a civilian, challenge such an assertion. Such hard work and compassion is the bridge that connects distant worlds. The path to reconciling the prejudice and spite that divides warriors from civilians. Some of the children here still need you. Surely you will not leave them.” Judith made to gently protest. “You should continue your good work, Judith. See your contract through. And maybe the answer you need will come to you.”
“Emperor, please,” said Judith, setting her cup down. “I just want to go home.”
“But you also have a home here. The children want you to stay. I want you to stay. What can I do to persuade you?”
“Emperor, there isn’t- I don’t-” Judith struggled to find the words to explain herself.
“Judith, I believe we should let this matter rest for the time being. Let’s instead look forward to the holiday. I insist that you take the time to reflect on my words as I will reflect on yours.”
Judith sighed. “I understand, your highness. If you don’t mind excusing me, I have duties elsewhere.”
Greywind waved her hand. “You may.”
With a formal bow, Judith left the tea table to carry out her tasks. Upon Greywind’s instruction, Attendant Link began clearing the table, giving Greywind a chance to be left alone with her thoughts.
A faint presence entered the Emperor’s range, waddling up to her on four hairy legs. Greywind looked to see Laika approaching. Laika stopped just a few paces from the Emperor. A Loroi could plainly see her timid aura as she hesitated to approach. Greywind lowered her blue fingers. Laika recognized the cue and approached, taking in Greywind’s scent before offering her affection with a few gentle licks. Greywind had become accustomed to the weird, beastly gesture.
Laika thought as she took in Greywind’s scent: Two-legs smell weird.
>I am not human,< Greywind sent in vain. It struck the Emperor as odd that Laika failed to distinguish Loroi from humans save for scent. Then again Laika was just an animal.
Laika still thought, wagging her tail: Two-legs smell weird. But two-legs have know-smell. Remember your know-smell. Two-legs give love-touch. Want love-touch.
Greywind sighed as her blue fingers stroked Laika’s head. Laika loved to be touched. Laika was a mongrel rescued from a Terran Raider hideout. Along with several other unique canine specimens. Introducing them to the creche initially terrified the Loroi youth. But the first of Greywind’s wards lavished the animals with hugs and affection. It took a while for the Loroi to grow accustomed to the presence of these alien creatures. But their simple-minded nature and eagerness for human company put the Loroi at ease. The Listels, eager to study these unique animals, found it hard to properly conduct their research when the canines refused to sit still. What boggled the Loroi was how humans developed a lotai yet dogs did not.
==== (+) ====
The morning started with a quick wash. Followed by a human breakfast. Loroi did not require so much sustenance. After that the inhabitants of the creche usually moved onto either work or lectures.
This particular morning Greywind had summoned her scions, Loroi wards and human adoptees for a family meeting within the arena. Along with each groups’ respective guardians. The old Emperor began by addressing the creche’s general issues and reserved interpersonal conflicts for last. Several pairs of children were called forth to explain problems they were having with other peers which usually manifested in the form of arguments and physical fights. Interpersonal conflicts were inevitable, but the children most often desisted whenever the Emperor came around. Greywind was determined to keep her human and Loroi children unified. Whatever Greywind could not resolve she would entrust to the creche’s counselors and therapists to rectify. Eventually she summoned Ember and Idaho to stand in the center of the circle of seated children. Caretaker Bluespruce made the Emperor aware of the fight that broke out between them the day before.
In a combination of verbal and telepathic communication, Greywind said, “I am not pleased with how you two have treated one another.” She looked at her ten-year old ward. “Idaho, if there is something in particular you do not like about another person or their background, you can either keep these sentiments to yourself. Or… you can politely express your discomfort and explain why. I thought a ward of the Emperor would understand that.”
Idaho lowered his head in shame. Ember grinned smugly. Her satisfied look fell away as Greywind caught on, “And you, Ember! You are not at fault for standing up for your honor or the honor of your relatives within the Yellow Sun Clan. But did it not occur to you that there are better ways to make a peer aware of their mistakes… without violence?”
“But he insulted me,” Ember meagerly defended.
“And you scratched him with your nails,” Greywind countered.
“He deserved it.”
Greywind stepped closer to Ember, looming over her. “And you, my young scion, received retribution. You ought to consider yourself lucky that Idaho is not a Loroi. For injuring a Loroi male is unforgivable.”
>Idaho’s just a human.<
There were shocked gasps from the Loroi within the arena upon receiving that broadcast.
Greywind’s lips pursed as her face contorted into an unhappy look. “Would you care to say that aloud?”
Ember slouched, shrinking under Greywind’s overbearing presence. >But he is just human.<
>Careful, child!< Greywind warned. >That is a dangerous sentiment. One that will not be tolerated in this creche. Apologize.<
>I-< Ember wrestled with her clashing shame and pride. >I am sorry.<
>Now to Idaho.<
Ember turned toward her peer. “I-Idaho,” she said meekly. “I… I am sorry.”
Idaho was taken aback by Ember’s sudden change in attitude.
Greywind said to him, “Now you apologize, Idaho.”
Idaho looked up at his warden.
“Idaho,” Greywind said strictly. “The path to reconciliation starts with an apology. Ember is trying to show you good will. Don’t you agree she deserves the same?”
Idaho groaned with a roll of his eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry too, Ember.”
Greywind approved and directed the two children to rejoin their seated peers. She would make arrangements for Idaho and Ember to receive respective counseling.
The old Emperor sent and said aloud, “Listen well! All of you! This creche is a home for Loroi and humanity alike. We are all citizens of the Union. Which means we are all Loroi under the letter of the law. And must be seen as such. Even our human sojourners, who have always been law-abiding and benign, are worthy of the warrior’s respect. We must remember this.”
Greywind took a moment of silence as she watched her children absorb and process her words. She carried on, “Now before we finish this meeting and resume lectures, does anyone have any questions?”
Several children stuck up their hands.
Greywind started with one, “Paul?”
Paul asked from his seat, “Emperor, all we’ve been eating for the last few weeks is chicken. Can we please get something else to eat?”
“I understand, Paul. Unfortunately it is harder to receive new supplies due to trade restrictions. Luckily the Christmas holiday is approaching and we were fortunate enough to gain some new food for our human inhabitants.”
“Really? Emperor, you rock!”
“Thank you, Paul. Does anyone else have a question?”
Hands shot back up. Greywind picked Cadence.
Cadence asked, “Emperor, can we ban fiction?”
Greywind raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because it’s pointless and too many of my peers won’t stop talking about it. And I find it very distracting.”
Luke rolled his eyes as he called out, “Drama queen!”
“Luke, be silent,” Greywind warned, returning her focus to Cadence. “Fiction is permitted so long as one is able to differentiate fiction from reality.”
“But Emperor-”
“That is that! If you hope to enter the Mizol Academy one day, you must learn to work within disruption, Cadence.”
Cadence silently pouted as she crossed her arms.
The Emperor accepted several more questions from the children, ranging from important to silly.
“Emperor, I’m having trouble with studies.”
“Emperor, I want to learn to be a Doranzer.”
“Azerein, there are some particular Loroi I want to initiate my trials with.”
“Emperor, can we have ponies?”
“Are we ever going to build Disney World on Deinar?”
Greywind had learnt to deal with the silly questions. The one she was not expecting however came from a twelve-year old Qi as he asked casually, “When can we have sex?”
The arena erupted into shocked gasps.
Greywind answered calmly, “Qi, what is the legal age of copulation regarding humans?”
“Uh, sixteen years?”
“There is your answer.”
“But, Emperor,” Qi insisted. “Uh, what if a superior officer orders us to do it?”
A few more boys and girls snickered.
The Emperor answered, “Qi, do you think an educated officer of the Loroi Union would risk her rank or career for illegal copulation?”
Qi shrugged. “I guess… it depends how much of a risk-taker she is.”
Greywind quirked her lips. “But it is illegal nonetheless. So suppose an officer did order you to… copulate… what do you suppose you should do?”
“Uh, say no?”
“And what else?”
“Report them?”
Greywind nodded approvingly. “Smart boy. Now are there any other questions?” Qi was the only child to stick his hand back up. Greywind avoided groaning out, “What is it, Qi?”
“Emperor, we’re going to have a lot of visitors coming to the creche for Christmas. Is that right?”
“Correct.”
“So… there are going to be a lot of adult Loroi. Right?”
“That seems obvious.”
“So… what if they want to get intimate?”
“How intimate?”
“Like kissing and hugging.”
Greywind sighed. “Hugging and kissing is acceptable as long as it’s proper.”
Luke raised his hand. “Emperor, what counts as proper?”
“It means nothing sexual, Luke.”
The human children, having grown up alongside a race of straightforward beings, were bound to learn from their Loroi peers about copulation. So it seemed best to teach them proper sexual conduct as well as laws regarding mating. Though it could make some of the human adults uncomfortable.
Sara didn’t even bother to raise her hand and asked, “So, Emperor, what counts as a proper kiss then?”
Greywind answered, “A kiss on the cheek or forehead is proper.”
“What about the lips?”
“Lips are not proper.” Greywind added as an afterthought, “And therefore not allowed.”
“But Idaho and Moonrune did it.”
“And they have been punished for it!”
“Why is Idaho so lucky?” Qi blurted out.
Idaho failed to hide his shameful grin as more children laughed.
Greywind called order back to the assembly. “Children!”
Kirk asked, “What about kissing the nose?”
Greywind couldn’t believe she was hearing this. “I don’t see the point in nose kissing, but I suppose it’s fine.”
More giggles.
Ripley asked, “What about the ear?”
“What?! Ripley, what’s the point in kissing someone’s ear?”
The children laughed. Even a few adults betrayed their professionalism, trying to hide their snickering.
“Quiet!” Greywind commanded in a hoarse voice. The humans and Loroi were quick to silence. The old Emperor cleared her throat. “This is not a laughing matter. I can see what some of you are trying to do. If you think you can dissuade me with adorable acts of humor, you are very mistaken. Copulation is a sacred act. So let me reiterate the rules, as I will remind all visitors. Hugging allowed. But no touching private parts. Of any kind! Even adults are prohibited from copulation on the creche grounds. Failure to comply will have severe consequences.” She hammered her left fist into her right palm to emphasize. “And finally, no kissing anything other than the cheeks or forehead.”
Kirk said, “But, Emperor, you said-”
“Forget what I said,” said Greywind, “and do what I say! No more questions for today. Return to your lectures. Is that understood?”
A few children mumbled in response.
“I can’t hear you!”
The children answered collectively, “Yes, Emperor!”
“Dismissed!”
Young and old rose from their seats. Teachers and caregivers guided the children out of the arena.
==== (+) ====
Some children absorbed the teachers’ lessons passionately. For some it was just another boring lecture. The caregivers of the creche came to understand this trouble in human youth’s attention span over the years. That is why the creche’s teachers taught with formal lectures combined with immersive simulations. To stimulate the children’s attentiveness and problem solving skills. Every formal lecture was followed up with a review to ensure that all students were up to speed. Students were also encouraged to partake in group discussions following the end of every lecture to promote critical thinking.
The methods of Loroi education were not perfect, but they worked. Beverly Miller had requested on several occasions to collect data on the children in the form of a standardized test she called an NAEP. And the woman from Queens was pleasantly shocked to find that the average student of the West Ginazeigo Isle, who hadn’t even reached their teen years save for one, possessed literary and mathematical proficiency that would put Terran high-schoolers to shame.
The children never received homework. Such a concept seemed tedious to the Loroi. The children were encouraged to study, especially those who showed promise in academic fields. But homework struck the Loroi as an inefficient method of learning. Some of the teaching and grading methods from Terran institutions baffled the Loroi. Entrusting children to figure things out through homework and their own intuition seemed ineffectively uncaring.
While certain subjects were essential, students were not expected to be proficient in every subject. Students partook in a broad array of subjects to expand their awareness of knowledge and the many career paths that lay ahead of them. The children’s eventual careers would be chosen based on what the child seemed most skilled at. While the children could voice their desire for another career path, Greywind and the caregivers offered counsel to these kids to steer them on a path that would best benefit the individual’s desires as well as Clan Rainfall.
That is not to say that all of the Lori’s teaching methods were suitable for humans. For one thing, humans could not receive sanzai, which added to the burden of teaching dozens of humans orally. Hence why the Loroi teachers of the creche were happy to have their human counterparts. The Loroi were further frustrated upon learning that, unlike the malleable members of castes like the Soroins, many of the human staff were not keen on assuming multiple responsibilities. While each Loroi had a specific role within the creche, Loroi had to be flexible and able to take on other responsibilities when the need arose. The human adults did not respond well to it initially. Housemaster Crescent despaired within the first few years of the Emperor’s adoption program over the human staff’s complaints about overburdening work and stressful schedules. Compromises had to be made. The humans’ job descriptions had to be reevaluated without diminishing the creche’s proficiency. And while some of the human staff had improved at multi-tasking over the years, some were just too stubborn to change much to the Loroi’s infuriation.
>No wonder most humans are civilians,< some of the Loroi despaired.
Wolfgang Schreiber was among the humans that were too stubborn to take on responsibilities that lay outside his area of expertise. Yet what he lacked in flexibility, he made up for in his capacity to win his students’ attention at nearly every lecture. The human and Loroi students loved his lectures.
Wolfgang usually started every lesson with a formal, “Gotten morgen,” followed by a question.
The query of the day: “Did you know that humans nearly went extinct once?”
While such a blunt question seemed disturbing, it certainly caught the children’s attention. Wolfgang’s lecture today was about the Stone Age. His human students ranged from eight- to ten-year olds. His Loroi students present ranged from three to five years. He covered the various periods of humans at the time, from the habits of Paleolithic cave dwellers to the sophistication of Neolithic hunter-gatherers transitioning into organized communities that would go on to domesticate animals and cultivate plants.
Wolfgang told an epic tale of how humans nearly perished during the Toba Volcanic Eruption on planet Earth. How humanity’s population plummeted to as few as a couple thousand. Maybe less. He went on to explain how humans survived by relying on their nomadic instincts by moving from one place to another, usually by following herds of animals or flocks of birds during migratory seasons. By foraging for nuts, berries and other plant-based foods when game became scarce. What intrigued the Loroi about this particular era of history was how humanity went on to conquer several species, like the gray wolf whose progeny would go on to become the domesticated dog. Most fascinating of all was the fact that there once existed other human species.
Following the lecture’s conclusion, Wolfgang allowed the students to begin class discussion.
Leaf was the first to voice her thoughts on today’s lecture, “Teacher, I thought there was only one humanity race.”
Wolfgang shook his head. “Nein. There used to be many. Scientists say there could have been as many as five different kinds of human species walking on Earth a hundred thousand years ago. Nine kinds dating as far back as three hundred thousand years ago.”
“Not possible.”
Wolfgang smiled knowingly as he pulled up holographic images of different kinds of archaic humans. Loroi and human children gazed at fossil bones and illustrative depictions of humanity’s ancient ancestors and cousin species. Wolfgang could see their looks ranging from revulsion to intrigue. The Loroi and human youth voiced their thoughts:
“Woah.”
“Weird.”
“Neat.”
“Fascinating.”
Paul shrieked, “Ugh! They’re hideous.”
“Paul, that’s not very nice,” Kirk pointed out. “They’re just cave men.”
“Teacher Schreiber,” Antimony stuck up her blue hand, a habit she and the rest of this generation of Loroi learnt growing up alongside their human peers. “If many kinds of humans once existed, what happened to them?”
“They went extinct. The one that survived was homo sapiens. Us.”
“Teacher, why did all the other human species die out?”
“Many reasons,” Wolfgang explained. “Sometimes from disease or injury. Sometimes when the climate became too inhospitable. Or when food was too scarce. Being eaten by predators. But the most compelling evidence is that they could not weave narratives like homo sapiens.”
Antimony cocked an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“Unlike other animals, sapient humans developed the ability to create and believe in sophisticated narratives. Stories that could bind groups, helping them increase their numbers and pass on these ideas to their descendants. We basically outbred the other humans because we could organize better than them. However, we modern humans are not all purely homo sapiens either.”
Antimony quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean, Teacher?”
“Throughout our long history, homo sapiens has survived by either eliminating other races. Or by absorbing them.”
Ember pointed out, “You mean homo sapiens bred with other human species?”
Wolfgang grinned at Ember’s quick thinking. “Exactly.”
Now Sara shot up from her seat, shock written on her face. She pointed to an illustrated archaic human on the hologram. “You mean that big nose dude,” she pointed to another archaic, “did it with that hairy troll? To make us?!”
Wolfgang searched for the words at Sara’s forwardness, “Um, not those two per-say.”
"But something like that?"
"Probably."
“Ew!”
The children burst into hysterical laughter.
“Alright, alright! Quiet down!” Wolfgang called order back to the class. Antimony stuck up her hand again. “Yes?”
Antimony asked, “Teacher, if the… homo say-pee-ins… absorbed other kinds of humans, does that mean all modern humans are hybrids?”
“It depends, Antimony,” Wolfgang pointed out. He brought up a holographic globe of Earth, pointing to various places as he explained, “Homo sapiens originally evolved around three hundred thousand years ago within Africa before their descendants migrated across the globe into Europe and East Asia. Even further as the eons passed. It was during this mass migration that they came across the few other humans that were left. For example, one other kind of human that went extinct around thirty to fifteen thousand years ago was Denisovan. But some Denisovans bred with homo sapiens. Today about one twentieth of humans originating from Australia and the South East Pacific Islands share Denisovan DNA.”
Ember could not help but ask, “Does that mean Sister Judith is a Denisovan?”
The children laughed again.
“Children, quiet down,” Wolfgang ordered. “Ember, please don’t say that. Some humans might find that offensive. And also… no.”
Paul shot up from his chair and asked, “Were there other kinds of humans in Europe?”
“As a matter of fact yes, Paul,” Wolfgang confirmed. “In Europe, homo sapiens came across the Neanderthals.”
“What is a Neandertal?” asked Veil.
“That’s a good question, my curious Loroi friend,” said Wolfgang, looking at his clock. “Unfortunately we don’t have the time to talk about this now, but am happy to say that we will be covering more on human ancestry at our next lecture. Enjoy the rest of your lessons, students. Class dismissed.”
The students applauded Wolfgang before leaving for their next classes.
Greywind rose from her seat. “A most fascinating lecture, Herr Schreiber,” the old Emperor complimented as she approached him.
“Danke sehr, Azerein,” Wolfgang thanked.
During her visits, Greywind sometimes liked to see first hand how the children were progressing and the content of their education. And she was pleased.
“I find humanity’s taming of wild wolves to be very fascinating,” said Greywind. “Though I am surprised you did not mention how humans domesticated farm animals.”
“That’s because humans didn’t start farming until the end of the Ice Age, Azerein. The glacial climate of our homeworld and the dry, cold atmosphere at the time would not be suitable for agriculture. Much less herding animals.”
“Indeed. Deinarids are a tough people, though our histories seem to confirm that they never faced anything as daunting as a glacial climate. Not even the Somail and Enogi, who are accustomed to freezing weather, have faced such perils.”
Wolfgang grinned. “Well, I’m flattered you hold humanity in such high esteem.”
“Herr Schreiber, you seem so well acquainted with human histories. Perhaps you could help me figure something out.” Wolfgang listened expectantly as Greywind recited the words from her dream.
Wolfgang offered only a bemused response, “What is that?”
Greywind made up a story, “I have come across a particular recitation from an unknown source. My Listels have been unable to decrypt it.”
“Have you tried Rosetta Stone?”
Greywind quirked an eyebrow.
Wolfgang grunted, “Forgive me. Bad joke. Anyway, Azerein, languages are bit beyond my skill. Although if I had to guess, I’d say this recitation sounds like an Indo-European language. Germanic most likely. Maybe Slavic.”
The next wave of Loroi and human children entered the hall.
“Forgive me, Azerein, but I must prepare for the next lesson.”
“I understand,” said Greywind. “Thank you anyway.”
Wolfgang stopped her a moment, “Azerein, might I suggest you meet Sister Judith? She is an expert on languages.”
“I already have. She could only guess that it could be a Romance language.”
“Well, I wish you luck in your search, Azerein.”
==== (+) ====
Teidar Ragan Icespear had been fuming all through the night. Barely getting in enough sleep, which further fueled her aggravation and sense of hopelessness. She had inhaled five cups of noiler to sooth herself, but not all the fungal stimulants of Perrein could put her mind at ease. After the Emperor’s address to the children of the creche, Patrix came to fetch Icespear to begin her first combat instruction for the children. They were leading a class of six to eight year old humans to the grassy hills some distance from the creche grounds. Icespear snarled as the wind tossed her spiky, cerulean hair into her face several times.
“Take it easy there, Teidar,” said Patrix.
“I can’t take it easy, Irish male,” Icespear grumbled.
“Proxi-Irish,” Patrix corrected. “Though I take pride in my Irish heritage, I was born on one of the Proxima colonies. You know, I’ve always thought you and I were quite alike, Icespear.”
“Teidar or Ragan will do,” said Icespear. “Anyway, how so?”
“Jeez, no need to be so grumpy,” said Patrix as they walked on. “What I understand is you grew up on a world of seas like me.”
“Proxima is nothing like Taben,” Icespear said firmly. “Proxima’s meager seas only come out every couple tozons when the planet passes through perihelion. Puddles compared to Taben’s stormy oceans. Your trials on Proxima could not possibly compare with what I faced on Taben.”
Patrix shrugged. “Fair enough. But we Proxis faced some hardships of our own. Like how it’s so bloody cold most of the time. Takes fifteen years for Proxima to revolve around Alpha Centauri B. In that time we only get three years of summer heat. The rest of that time the bloody planet’s so cold your toes will fall off. I remember this one lad, Fredrik, came all the way from England, Earth to join our security team. Got separated from a cargo truck en route to neighboring colony. Took eight bloody hours to find him. Man got frost bite and lost most of his toes too. Dumb bastards those English.”
“Is there a point to this story?” Icespear asked.
“My point is Fredrik might have been a dumb bastard, but he kept going. Plus he made up for his stupidity with his good humor. We shared some good laughs over a good many pints. I’ll never forget this old Earth proverb he shared with us.”
“Which was?”
“‘If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball.’”
“I don’t follow.”
“My point is, you’re pissed. I don’t need telepathy to tell. It sucks doing a job that you hate.”
Icespear had learnt the slang ‘suck’. “It sucks harder than the Well of Souls.”
“Aye so it seems. Coming from a frozen colony that demanded shitty work on a daily basis, I can sympathize. But look at it this way, teaching these children combat knowledge is just another challenge to overcome. Right?”
Icespear roller her eyes to the sky. “I suppose that is one way to see it.”
“And does a Teidar, who has braved the treacherous seas of Taben before getting reassigned to the hard-asses of the Teidar Academy, back down from a challenge?”
“Shred that.”
“That’s the spirit, lass. So then,” Patrix set down the box they were carrying together, “just watch and learn.” Patrix ordered the children to line up. “Alright, little wains! Listen up! Today we’re going over the basics of Loroi firearms.”
“Cool!”
“Awesome!”
“Settle down,” Patrix ordered. “Now of course these firearms do not have actual ammunition. You’re not ready to handle live weapons until you’re older and show proper discipline. But you’ll get your chance to fire some dummy rounds to get a feel of how a weapon behaves. So let’s start off with weapon safety. Teidar Ragan Icespear, the floor is yours.”
Icespear looked around in confusion. “What floor? There are no floors here. Just rocks and grass.”
“I mean it’s time to teach.”
Icespear pointed to herself, “You mean me?”
“Do you see any other Icespears around here?”
The children giggled.
“Aye! Pull yourselves together,” said Patrix to the kids. He held out the plasma rifle to Icespear. “Ragan, just start off by explaining how a rifle works and how to handle it. Test them a bit to get their gears turning.”
Icespear cocked an eyebrow. “Gears turning?”
“You know, get them to use some of their critical thinking.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” Her orange eyes flared as an invisible force snatched the rifle from Patrix’s hands into Icespears.
“Alright, runts,” Icespear addressed the children. “To use a weapon safely, you need to be familiar with how it works. And you need to know what each part of it is called. So we will start with some basic weaponry knowledge. This will be important if you manage to be accepted into military service. So be quiet and pay attention.”
Patrix tapped a button on his pad. Icespear took notice. “Patrix, what are you doing?”
“Recording,” he said with a grin. “You know, so we can go over your missteps and improve.”
Icespear groaned out, “Whatever. Alright, children. Listen well. Weapons are not toys. They are devices built to kill. Using them irresponsibly can have fatal consequences.”
A six-year old boy stuck up his hand.
“Yes, Jabari?”
“What means fatal?” A recent arrival to the creche, Jabari still had trouble with basic Trade.
“It means it can kill you.”
“Is bad?”
Icespear’s gaze narrowed. “Well dying is not good.” Some of Greywind’s human wards seemed a bit slow. She walked up toward little Jabari, holding up the firearm on display. “So then, Jabari, what is this called?”
Jabari stated, “A musket?”
“No!” Icespear hollered. She bent over to his level. “There are no muskets in the modern military, Jabari. Blaster rifle! You hear me? Blaster rifle!” She stood straight back up. “Now… what is this in my hand?”
Jabari hesitated. “B-blaster rifle?”
“Good. We are making progress. Now a blaster rifle is also called a plasma rifle.” Icespear moved onto the next child. “Ripley, what does a plasma rifle shoot?”
Ripely answered confidently, “A laser beam.”
Icespear groaned, “No! Plasma beam! You hear me, Ripley? A plasma rifle shoots plasma beams.”
“Ragan, does a plasma beam glow like a laser beam?”
Icespear sighed. “In a sense, yes.”
“So they’re the same then?”
“No, they are not,” Icespear stated.
“Is a laser beam made of photons?”
It struck Icespear as odd that the little Ripley understood what photons were but could no distinguish hot plasma from laser beams. “Yes, Ripley.”
“Are plasma beams made of photons?”
Icespear tried explaining, “Well, not made of photons. It’s super heated particles… which happen to release photons.”
“So it is a laser beam.”
“No, it’s not! You’re just wrong! Plasma rifles shoot plasma beams. And that is that!”
Ripley pouted, “Fine then. But I’m calling it a laser when you’re not around.”
“You- that-” Icespear slouched with a sigh. “I am not having an argument with a child. Let’s move on!”
Icespear went on to explain the anatomy of a plasma rifle, how to load its ammunition battery as well as field stripping the weapon. All the while Patrix recorded the Teidar with his pad, struggling to suppress his snickers as the children kept finding ways to make Icespear snarl out her impatience with them.
“The guys are going to love this,” Patrix snickered silently.
==== (+) ====
Some Loroi would argue that philosophy served no practical purpose for a warrior and therefore should be left to the ponderers among menfolk who could afford to spend their thoughts on such matters. The old Emperor on the other hand considered philosophy not only enriching for a Loroi’s psyche, but a sharpener for critical thinking. A practical and desirable skill which Greywind hoped to cultivate within her familial clan’s youth, strengthening their intellectual and tactical edge.
In the time Judith had lived within the Union, she had learnt much about the Loroi’s ancient fables. While ancient Loroi history was one of endless bloodshed, the Loroi also pondered the meaning of their own existence. Posing similar questions as many human thinkers come before:
Why do we exist?
Where do we come from?
Why are Loroi the only telepathic species and no other?
What happens after physical death?
During her time employed at the creche, Judith had captivated her Loroi students with ancient Terran mythologies. The Listels were enthralled by such knowledge, even if it were mere legend. Judith taught the Loroi of the creche how humans went from worshipping forest spirits to erecting polytheistic idols. How European and Eurasian pagans were outcompeted by the rise of monotheistic cults, which would go on to form the foundation of some of Earth’s most successful religions. How the enlightenment of spiritual movements compelled humans to embrace humanist ideals whilst exploitive cults enabled the dominance and abuse of the masses. How the unreconcilable aspects of dogma compelled original thinkers to question traditional religions and organize new sects that defied the enforcement of worshipping deities and renounced blind obedience to canonical tenets.
While Loroi were not strangers to supernatural beliefs, polytheism and monotheism were quite foreign concepts. Some of the creche’s scholars even boasted that ancient Loroi would have laughed at the idea of a gigantic male wielding lightning bolts or mystical serpents that could defy gravity.
Judith countered cooly to such ridicule, “Is it not equally absurd to believe a green-haired harpy who commanded furious spirits to lay waste to entire cities on Deinar and made a hill of skulls her throne?”
The Loroi were also baffled by Judith’s commitment to her strange religion. But respected that the old nun clung to her spiritual beliefs for the same reasons the Loroi were fiercely devoted to their ancient stories.
Today Judith was teaching the most elder of the human children about the Loroi philosophy of panpsychism.
“The mind is a fundamental feature of the world which exists throughout the universe,” said Judith amidst her circle of twelve human students. “That is the primary principle of the philosophy of the mind. Some thinkers throughout history have argued that self-awareness is just a byproduct of evolution. Basically a mistake. But panpsychism holds that mind is a fundamental feature of reality. Some might argue that it is so necessary that reality would not exist without it.”
Judith was interrupted as Greywind entered the room.
“Do not be alarmed, Sister Judith,” said the old Emperor. “I would simply like to participate in your lecture.”
“Oh, please join us, your highness,” Judith motioned with her hand. Greywind took a seat as Judith continued, “Among the Loroi’s many spiritual beliefs, panpsychism has been one of the most prevailing schools of thought among Loroi philosophers. Many have speculated that sanzai is an exotic form of integrating with reality. As well as their other psychic talents like moving objects with just a thought. Or being able to heat objects without instrumentality or combustible compounds. In fact, some Loroi believe that thought itself permeates all matter and energy within the universe. By coincidence Shintoism on Earth shares a similar belief. They call it kami. But the Loroi philosophy takes it a step further. Instead of calling it a mystical force, some Loroi philosophers believe there is in fact consciousness within matter and energy itself.”
Motoko raised her hand. “Sensei, if that’s true, then why don’t Loroi sense it in lifeless matter?”
Judith answered, “Some speculate that consciousness on such small scale is not sophisticated enough to be detected.” Motoko didn’t seem to understand. Judith explained, “Think of it this way: what is a brain?”
“Billions of neurons.”
“Exactly. Very good, Motoko. We don’t know what consciousness is. We just know that when when enough neurons come together, they create a network. A network called synapses. A synapses is what gives rise to consciousness. What we also know is that it is trying to make sense of everything that exists outside yourself. It does this by solving problems. That’s what intelligence is; the ability to solve problems.
“Now some proponents of panpsychism propose that maybe all matter and energy in the universe acts in a similar way.” The children gave puzzled looks. Judith tried to explain it another manner, “Listen. There are four basic elements for organic life: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen. Now when each of these elements are separated from one another, they just act as physical laws intended. But… when combined in just the right way, the form a profound mechanism. We call this mechanism a living cell. So you see children? Alone these four elements mean nothing. But combine them in just the right way, they become a living thing. And then that living thing goes on to interact with other living constructs. Each of these mechanisms meet, react and combine into new forms of possibilities. And when you introduce more elements into living cells, the mechanism starts change and learn. Giving rise to mutations and adaptions.”
The children nodded in understanding.
Judith continued, “Now you’re catching on. Very good. And this is what Loroi philosophers believe when it comes to telepathy and psychokinetic powers. The Loroi mind is so sophisticated that perhaps it is merely communicating with conscious matter and energy. Because less sophisticated globs of matter, while undetectably conscious, have not organized themselves into operating systems that can intelligibly resist the influence of the Loroi psyche. Now mind you all this is purely speculative. But… it could explain why Unsheathed can influence the movement of matter by just thinking it for example. On a personal note, the Loroi’s psychokinetic abilities has become the focus of many Terran religions.”
Ben asked, “Why?”
“Because the Loroi might be able make their own power.” The children gave the old nun some odd looks. Judith carried on, “No, I’m serious. Let me tell you a quick story. Before coming to the Union, I was summoned to the Vatican to speak with Pope Luke I and Archbishop Giuseppe, where the holy father honored me by explaining in person my new assignment to accompany the Archbishop into Union territory where we might carry out some missionary work and establish a new church on Azimol. But there was another man present for this meeting. Brother Guy Consolmagno. A monk and also director of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences.
“Ever since humanity made official contact with the Loroi, many scientific clerics of the Vatican have become very interested in their psychic abilities. Brother Guy shared these views and, with the Holy Father’s blessing, asked me to witness the psychic abilities of the Loroi. Particularly Unsheathed. And to learn all that I could about it from the Loroi themselves.”
“Sister, why would some old guys want learn about Loroi’s powers?” Kassad asked.
“Kassad, is that any way to speak of your elders?” Judith gently admonished. “Anyway, one of the oldest scientific principles is that matter and energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Which means that new matter and new energy can never enter the universe. Scientists still cannot explain where the Unsheathed get their energy from. So, children, what do you think?”
Motoko guessed, “Maybe it’s generated from an exotic power source in their bodies?”
“Possibly,” said Judith. “But where is the power source?”
Ben guessed, “Well, the Soia seeded many of the worlds in the Local Bubble. Maybe the food the Soia made gives the Loroi the energy.”
“Intriguing,” said Judith. “But if that were true, how come it only powers the Loroi and not other Soia-Liron species?”
An eleven-year old girl, Bean guessed, “Maybe the Loroi don’t have psychic powers. Maybe they’re just high and are infecting other sentients with bio-chemicals in the atmosphere. Which in turn makes them believe that the Loroi are magical. But in fact we are all just tripping together.”
Everyone gave Bean an odd look.
“Bean,” said Kassad, “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”
Judith pursed her lips, looking up to heaven. “Not a very enlightening theory, Bean. But creative.”
Greywind raised an odd eyebrow at Judith’s praise.
Bean beamed smugly at Kassad. “See? I’m creative.”
“Yeah, creatively insane,” Kassad shot back.
“Kassad, be nice,” said Ben.
“Don’t tell me what to do, mama’s boy.”
“Kassad!” Greywind cautioned with a wave of her index.
Judith asked, “Nyota?”
Nyota, twelve years old and a fellow christian, looked up at the old nun. “Sister Judith?”
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Judith pointed out. “Take a guess. Where do you think the Loroi’s telepathic and telekinetic powers comes from?”
Nyota silently thought it over. She guessed, “The Loroi create it.”
“But energy can’t be created or destroyed,” Motoko pointed out.
“So it seems,” said Judith. “But maybe Nyota is onto something. Now mind you, children, this is merely philosophical speculation. But even philosophy had its place in advancing science. Some people believe that the Loroi maybe don’t get their powers from a source. But rather they make it.”
“Sister Judith, are you saying that thought makes energy?” Ben asked.
“I’m not claiming it does,” said Judith. “I’m saying that it is worth considering. Many faiths, human and otherwise, claim that the universe was created out of an act of sheer will. Creation by mere thought. A powerful message. So if that is true, who is to say that thinking creatures like ourselves can’t do the same?”
Motoko interrupted, “Sister Judith, no offense but that doesn’t sound very scientific. And I don’t think the Listels would agree with you.”
Judith laughed. “No. I don’t suspect they would. Mind you, this isn’t science. Science may give us a definite answer eventually. You must not agree with me simply because I offer this idea. I ask you only to approach this with an open mind. To think. That’s what philosophy is all about. To think and trade ideas so that it may bring us closer to the truth.” Her clock chimed. “And that signals the end of today’s lesson. Enjoy the rest of your day, children.”
“Freedom,” Kassad hooted. A few others agreed as they left the room, looking forward to pursuing some personal interests.
Bean stepped in front of Greywind. “Emperor? I have something to tell you.”
“What is it, Bean?” Greywind asked.
“Bye.” Without another word, Bean skipped away out of class.
Greywind sighed. “I have heard many stories of strange humans over the years. But that child certainly seems idiosyncratic.”
“Cruel,” Judith muttered, “but good word use. Bean’s demeanor is… unique I admit. But she’s harmless.”
“Not all the caregivers are convinced.”
“Trust me, Emperor. I’ve seen disturbing children. And Bean is quite sweet once you get to know her. And she’s quite gentle with the toddlers.”
Bean was rescued eight months ago, discovered playing in a trash hill by waste disposal workers on the outskirts of Adadis. Unlike the other children rescued from the Great Wastelands, Bean was trafficked onto Deinar. Sadly she could not give any reliable information about the criminals that had smuggled her. Just a recounting of how Bean fled after blinding one of her handlers with aerosol and incapacitating another with a steel rod, her lotai aiding her escape from her abductors. Her explosive personality and disturbing humor made some of the inhabitants uncomfortable. There were concerns that a child with such an unstable personality was not fit to reside at the creche. Despite showing signs of clinical depression and PTSD, Bean was harmless, cheerful and awkwardly affectionate. She also had an affinity for building and engineering. The child was brilliant, but Greywind couldn’t imagine Bean getting along with a team of disciplined Gallens with her attitude. Perhaps her trials would determine if she were fit for duty.
“By the way, Emperor,” said Judith. “How goes your research of the demon tongue?”
“I beg your pardon?” Greywind asked.
“Sorry, bad joke.”
“Indeed.”
“I was referring to your search for the strange language you shared with me, your highness.”
“Not much luck. But that’s not what I came here for, Sister Judith. I wanted to speak with you privately if you do not mind.”
“Of course. How may I be of service, Emperor?”
“Why don’t you join me in the gardens for tea?”
Judith accepted the Emperor’s invitation.
Attendant Link set up a small table with tea and refreshments in the gardens for Judith and Greywind. The old Emperor took a refreshing sip of her rose petal tea. Judith grimaced as she sipped the synthetic coffee.
“I have overheard Miss Miller commenting that milk improves the taste of the synthetic coffee,” Greywind suggested.
“No thank you,” said Judith. “I prefer to taste coffee as it is. While I am not against sampling ice cream occasionally, milk has never really been part of the filipino diet anyway.”
“I see,” said the old Emperor. “Now Judith, I want to speak with you concerning last night’s meeting. Why did you ask about returning to Terran territory?”
“Oh, Emperor, it’s not really important.”
Greywind did not accept that. “Judith, I think it seems important to you. Even without sanzai, I can tell from gesture when a sapient seems troubled. I ask only that you be honest. You can trust me. Now… will you please tell me if there is something troubling you?”
Judith was silent a moment. She took another sip of coffee. “Emperor… the truth is… I have felt a strong desire to return to Earth.”
“Why?”
“The reasons are many. And personal. But… I do not want you to think that I think negatively of you. But I… I must know… is there a risk of war?”
“I assume you are referring to tensions between the Terran Confederacy and the Loroi Union.”
Judith nodded.
Greywind assured, “Judith, my ruling cabinet and I are hard at work to ensure that doesn’t happen.”
“But there is a risk that it could happen?” Judith stated more than asked.
“I cannot deny the possibility. Is that what seems to be troubling you?”
Judith nodded again. “Yes, Emperor.”
“Judith, while I am confident that diplomacy will win out, surely you are aware it might safer for you to remain in Union territory until our two nations are on friendlier terms again.”
“I am.”
“So then why would you want to risk a journey back to Earth? Is there some urgency?”
“Well,” Judith hesitated, “it’s complicated.”
“Try to make it simple then.”
Judith sighed. “Emperor, I have unfinished matters back on Earth. Personal matters.”
“You are referring to your former assignment to your clerical superiors?”
“Not just that.”
“Well what then?”
“Emperor, you would laugh if I told you.”
“Sister Judith, look at me.” Judith did just that. “Does this look like a face that could laugh?”
Judith shrugged in reply, “Probably not.”
“So?”
“I…” Judith mustered up her courage. “I think I’m losing my faith.”
“You mean your faith in your religion?”
Judith nodded meekly.
“Is that all? Judith, I mean no disrespect, but has it not occurred to you that all sapients go through a phase of questioning their personal beliefs?”
“But my faith is precious to me, Emperor,” Judith insisted. “Just as warrior honor is precious to you.”
“Help me understand then, Sister Judith. Why do you think you are losing your faith?”
Judith explained as best she could. She recounted what her personal experiences within the Union had imprinted upon her. Expressed the epiphanies that Loroi culture had imbued. And the incredible shock of the Loroi’s more brutal nature, striking Judith to her core. But the Loroi’s capacity for kindness and mercy made Judith question if the Loroi were really as ruthless as the other races claimed. The fact that the Loroi wiped out an entire interstellar empire in the name of peace and self-defense further complicated the matter. The separation from Judith’s homeworld had made the nun aware of just how small humans were in a very large galaxy. That vast distance between Judith and all she had left behind had made her question if her deity really was as omnipotent as her doctrine boasted. In the grand scheme of cosmic events, it forced Judith to ask herself a terrible question for the first time in her life:
“Does God even exist?”
Greywind absorbed and processed Judith’s troubles. “You are a mendicant servant. I have met quite a few Terran diplomats and military officers asking me outright if I believe in their God deity. But do you know what I consider ironic? You never asked me that question once.”
Judith could not deny that was funny. She laughed, “I didn’t think it proper to burden you with my beliefs.”
“You consider beliefs to be a burden?”
“Emperor, beliefs can enlighten us. Liberate us. But convincing others to accept them weighs on us.”
Greywind could not deny that. “Wise words. Judith, thanks to you and our archives provided by Terran scholars, I have a better understanding of Terran religions. There are many things to be admired about Christianity. Indeed in many of the Terran creeds. But I do not believe in your God deity.”
“I know, Emperor.” Judith took another sip of coffee. “And I respect that.”
“Judith, you said that beliefs can enlighten and liberate the mind. Being forced to acknowledge that our beliefs may be wrong seems daunting. Overwhelming even. But have you not considered that maybe this is a good thing?”
“I don’t know, Emperor. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think. I feel confused. Lost. My mind is burning with questions. Questions that desperately need answering.”
“Can you not find those answers here?”
“Emperor, humans across old Earth had many ideas of where we came from. The Bible and Torah say we were made from clay. Transformed into residents of paradise before disobedience cast us out. The Buddhists claim we humans were once beings of pure light, moving without the need of mechanical aid or sustenance. My own Philippine culture has an old folk tale since before the arrival of Catholic missionaries saying that the winds from the land and sea came together to make bamboo. And out of this bamboo came the first man and woman. Science has refuted all these claims, saying that we are just apes that came from the primates and rodents lucky enough to survive the perils of prehistory.
“But science also gave us new hope with recent discoveries. Advancements in quantum physics and neuroscience suggested that maybe, just maybe, we aren’t merely the sum of our parts. That perhaps there is more to us than meets the eye. Then humanity found out they were not alone in the universe. And there was another special being called Loroi. A race that could speak without speaking. That could influence the world around them by mere thought and detect living creatures across a span of lightyears. When I learnt of all this, it did not make me question my faith then. It gave me hope. Hope that perhaps the Loroi could do what we humans have only wished we could do.”
“And what, Sister Judith, is that?” Greywind asked.
Judith answered, “You, Emperor Greywind, can see another person’s soul. I thought perhaps by learning more about the Loroi, we humans could in time learn how to find the soul ourselves. If we can find the soul, maybe we could finally find God. And yet, when a Loroi looks at us, they see nothing.”
Greywind was taken aback by such an observation. “That is not true, Judith. That is not how I see you. What we Loroi see is not necessarily a soul of a living thing. It is merely a mental projection of a Loroi’s conscious mind trying to give form to a detectable presence. Besides, humans are merely invisible to sanzai. That doesn’t mean you are… empty inside.”
“Not all Loroi think so,” Judith said sadly.
“I cannot deny it. But those Loroi are narrow minded. Ignorant. Belligerent. You and our human community here are safe from their prejudice. Protected by the law.”
“I have no doubt about that, Emperor. You have showered these children in kind affection. But I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about humanity at large.”
“You worry about something beyond your control,” Greywind meant that as an ease more than criticism.
“I worry about the future, Emperor. I, like so many of my kind, came into this world so certain of our place in it. I thought I knew what I was once.”
“And what did you think you were, Sister Judith?”
“A soul in a body. A creation of God. I truly believed that the Loroi could be the answer to humanity’s biggest spiritual questions. I still want to believe that. But for the first time in my life, I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
Judith took another sip of coffee, cradling the cup in her hands. “If I don’t have a soul… and if I wasn’t made in God’s image… then what am I?”
Greywind took in all of this as she sipped her rose tea. “Is this what humans call a faith crisis?”
Judith shrugged. “I don’t know what to call it.”
Greywind placed her tea down. “I understand your distress. Do you really want to go back to Earth that badly?”
“Emperor, I do. I must. Not merely for spiritual reasons. But for my colleagues. My friends. My relatives that I left behind. War or no war, I have unfinished business. I… I haven’t fully made peace with everyone in my past.”
That surprised the Emperor. “Judith, you seem to be one of the most gentle humans I know. Surely you have not wronged someone to the point that you feel you must make peace with them.”
Judith sighed. “As I said, Emperor, it’s complicated.”
Greywind offered in comfort, “Judith, I care for your well-being. And wish only for your happiness if it does not jeopardize duty. I do not want to deny you a safe journey back to Earth if that is what you want. But I also do not wish to see you go. You have been a contributing member of this creche. An affectionate caregiver. And an effective teacher. You have given the troubled youth here direction. Purpose. Many Loroi boast that only warriors can bring something of worth to society. I take pride in our warrior honor. But you, a civilian, challenge such an assertion. Such hard work and compassion is the bridge that connects distant worlds. The path to reconciling the prejudice and spite that divides warriors from civilians. Some of the children here still need you. Surely you will not leave them.” Judith made to gently protest. “You should continue your good work, Judith. See your contract through. And maybe the answer you need will come to you.”
“Emperor, please,” said Judith, setting her cup down. “I just want to go home.”
“But you also have a home here. The children want you to stay. I want you to stay. What can I do to persuade you?”
“Emperor, there isn’t- I don’t-” Judith struggled to find the words to explain herself.
“Judith, I believe we should let this matter rest for the time being. Let’s instead look forward to the holiday. I insist that you take the time to reflect on my words as I will reflect on yours.”
Judith sighed. “I understand, your highness. If you don’t mind excusing me, I have duties elsewhere.”
Greywind waved her hand. “You may.”
With a formal bow, Judith left the tea table to carry out her tasks. Upon Greywind’s instruction, Attendant Link began clearing the table, giving Greywind a chance to be left alone with her thoughts.
A faint presence entered the Emperor’s range, waddling up to her on four hairy legs. Greywind looked to see Laika approaching. Laika stopped just a few paces from the Emperor. A Loroi could plainly see her timid aura as she hesitated to approach. Greywind lowered her blue fingers. Laika recognized the cue and approached, taking in Greywind’s scent before offering her affection with a few gentle licks. Greywind had become accustomed to the weird, beastly gesture.
Laika thought as she took in Greywind’s scent: Two-legs smell weird.
>I am not human,< Greywind sent in vain. It struck the Emperor as odd that Laika failed to distinguish Loroi from humans save for scent. Then again Laika was just an animal.
Laika still thought, wagging her tail: Two-legs smell weird. But two-legs have know-smell. Remember your know-smell. Two-legs give love-touch. Want love-touch.
Greywind sighed as her blue fingers stroked Laika’s head. Laika loved to be touched. Laika was a mongrel rescued from a Terran Raider hideout. Along with several other unique canine specimens. Introducing them to the creche initially terrified the Loroi youth. But the first of Greywind’s wards lavished the animals with hugs and affection. It took a while for the Loroi to grow accustomed to the presence of these alien creatures. But their simple-minded nature and eagerness for human company put the Loroi at ease. The Listels, eager to study these unique animals, found it hard to properly conduct their research when the canines refused to sit still. What boggled the Loroi was how humans developed a lotai yet dogs did not.
Last edited by Snoofman on Fri Feb 23, 2024 4:25 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: A Chorus of Stars
This is a fantastic chapter, very much an interesting look into Human/Loroi philosophical differences and similarities.
And a grumpy Teidar.
And a grumpy Teidar.
#1 Tempo simp
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Re: A Chorus of Stars
Author's note:
It was my hope that this and the next few chapters would make just before Christmas this year. Seemed very fitting if you know what I mean. But we'll just have to wait and see as things progress. I hope you enjoy.
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IX - A Happy Reunion Maybe?
==== (+) ====
Torrai Lashret Arclight remembered her time at the invasion of the Steppes. She remembered having lost two ships while serving under the former Torrai Lashret Stillstorm, Thunderbolt and Torrent. She remembered quite a few comrades who lost their lives in the line of duty to fend off the Umiak. Having become accustomed to death and loss on a daily basis, Arclight was certain her time would be coming. The unforeseen arrival of Ensign Alexander Jardin. And the intervention of the Terrans that followed changed everything.
Dhalid seemed to have other plans for the veteran of the Charred Steppes. As thanks for her selfless servitude in the face of incredible danger, Emperor Greywind saw fit that Arclight should take some time to recuperate from the intense combat and take command of patrolling the Seren Sector with her own command ship, Lone Fire. Being the great granddaughter of the fourth emperor certainly had its perks.
Now Arclight was aboard a shuttle inbound for West Ginazeigo Isle. It had been well over twenty one years since she visited Deinar, where she birthed her second daughter, Comet, and left her to be trained at their familial clan’s creche.
To Arclight’s left sat Ashrain. The two had run into each other by coincidence at the Toridas spaceport. Not to mention coming by quite a number of their kin and some of Clan Rainfall’s closest friends. They transferred to a shuttle, which now bore them and dozens of their familial relations to West Ginazeigo Isle. Some Loroi broadcasted their conversations openly during the flight. Others blocked out the telepathic chatter as they shared more private dialogues with each other.
Just like Arclight and Ashrain.
>So have you seen the humans?< asked Arclight.
>On three separate occasions,< Ashrain replied.
>I didn’t believe the rumors initially,< Arclight admitted. >But when I received the news directly from our kin, I was quite surprised. I haven’t seen a human since our first contact days ever since being assigned to the Seren Sector. But I never thought I’d get a chance to see human children at our family’s creche. Are they as mischievous as the rumors say?<
>Quite,< Ashrain confirmed. >But they are sweet from time to time. And they’re quick to fall in line when Greywind is around to lay down the law.<
Arclight twerked her lips thoughtfully. >Well, our sire and ruler certainly has that effect. And it’s true that Greywind allows the males of their race to mingle with our clan’s children?<
>They are training to be warriors after all,< confirmed Ashrain.
>And the Loroi youth have been able to restrain themselves in the presence of these little males?<
>Surprisingly yes. The first batch of Greywind’s human wards made the Loroi children anxious to say the least. A few even tried getting intimate with their new male peers. New rules and conditioning had to be put into effect to keep the children in check.<
>Even the human girls?<
>Surprisingly no. Human girls’ interest in the opposite sex is surprisingly mild compared to the passion of a Loroi. One might say the human girls are better disciplined than our own youth. Quite admirable I admit. A pity though not all of the humans will be cut out to serve as warriors.<
>Really? Then why bother training them at the creche at all?<
>Don’t you remember after the war? Greywind began adopting Loroi wards of civilian heritage as part of her effort to reach out to the civilian populace. She thinks remedying the prejudice that’s been troubling the Loroi worlds will pacify the civilians long enough until the Council is unified on a long-term solution. Win back the faith of the masses. Pushing civilian youth to be warriors and encouraging human children to serve alongside them is meant to inspire the public. Even if some of the human children fail to be warriors, Greywind intends to employ them as useful members of the family.<
Arclight didn’t bother hiding her astonishment. >How controversial! And most unorthodox. I can only imagine the amount of trouble she must get from the Traditionalists for it.<
Ashrain scoffed, >You know how Traditionalists are. Confusing old practices for divine mandate.<
>But back to the matter of the creche. I hear the Emperor is hosting a human holiday as a theme for our family’s great reunion. What do they call it again?<
>Christmas.<
>So what does this Christmas holiday entail?<
>Mostly decorating local dwellings in plant-based ornaments and red and white colors. And lots of feasting. I was shocked to learn just how gluttonous the humans can be during this celebration. The highlight of the celebration is of course the exchange of gifts.<
Arclight drew a parallel, >Kind of like Windfury.<
>I’ve thought Christmas having more in common with Whitecap. Minus the macabre aspects of course. Coincidently, like the Whitecap holiday, Christmas commemorates a figure known for gift-giving and benevolent deeds. Santa Claus.<
Arclight quirked an eyebrow. >Who?<
>A mythical human male said to perform charitable acts for fellow humans many centuries ago. Christmas was initially meant to celebrate a Christian deity. Don’t quite remember how Santa Claus became incorporated into the Christmas celebration. Though I seem to remember Judith de la Cruz mentioning that the original fable of Saint Nicholas was revitalized a few centuries ago by the efforts of artists who dedicated their works in Saint Nicholas’ honor. Many poets and writers wrote extensively about him, glorifying his charity. Of course many of these literary works deviated from the authentic history of Saint Nicholas.<
>Why? Were the authors ill-informed?<
>Perhaps. Though some human authors have been known to change narratives to vivify their myths and histories.<
Arclight stopped her, >Wait I’m confused. You’re saying that the mythical Santa Claus is just a reimagined narrative of another human called Saint Nicholas?<
>Essentially.<
>That makes no sense. What’s the point of warping a true account in favor of broadcasting a false one?<
>Who knows? Even I don’t fully understand it. Humans seem to have always had an obsession with fiction. Has something in part to do with improving their creativity. Creative humans are believed to have better ingenuity. Sometimes fiction was used by humans as an indirect way of challenging seemingly unjust sovereigns or to encourage humans to embrace revolutionary principles.<
>How cowardly reticent.<
>It’s a human thing. In any case, the stories that inspired Christmas may be disappointing. But the ceremonies make up for this. I was lucky enough to partake in the alien holiday during my first meeting with Greywind’s wards and human staff. Quite enjoyable.<
>I hope so.<
A Soroin Paset announced to all passengers, >We will be arriving at the island shortly. Please return to your seats and strap in as we prepare to land.<
Torrai, Mizols and Soroins secured their seatbelts. Within bimas, the shuttle touched down at the creche’s landing pad. The Loroi filed out of the shuttle down the loading ramp. There stood a number of servants standing at attention behind Housemaster Crescent.
The Housemaster addressed the arrivals, >Greetings, honorable officers and kin of Clan Rainfall. We are happy to receive you here at West Ginazeigo Isle. I am at your service for whatever you may need during your stay with us. Each of our guests has been assigned a room either within the guest house or aboard one of the anchored ships offshore. Please have your wristbands ready for registry so we may register you as quickly as possible. Our servants will be happy to guide you to your rooms and help with your luggage should you require assistance.<
One by one the Loroi came forward to show their wristbands. Crescent inspected each name registered on her wristcomm’s holopanel before assigning a room to every checked-in guest. Crescent worked swiftly to get these Loroi off the landing pad as quickly as possible. The shuttle would need to vacate the landing pad before the next shuttle arrived. For the past few days she had been inspecting and checking in hundreds of guests.
The last two guests approached.
>Thank you, Torrai Sadait Nightgale,< Crescent confirmed. >You seem to be the younger sister of Torrai Azerein Greywind.<
>I am,< Nightgale confirmed.
>I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before.<
>This is my first visit to this creche.<
>Well, I am sure the Emperor will be pleased to know you accepted her invitation. You must be exhausted after a long journey from Perrein.< Crescent turned her focus to the last guest, motioning to register her wristband.
The old stranger stopped her, >Don’t bother. I doubt you will find my name on your list.<
That was odd to Crescent. >Excuse me, but unregistered guests would have been stopped at the Toridas checkpoint. How might you have bypassed-<
>I gave her clearance,< sent Nightgale.
>I beg your pardon, Torrai Sadait. But our policy is no guest may bring surprise visitors without our security’s approval. I must ask who your visitor is.<
The elder gave her name.
Crescent could not conceal her surprised tone, >I do not believe you were given an invitation.<
>I didn’t need one,< the elder confirmed. >I am here for personal matters. My business is my own.<
Crescent momentarily panicked before calling forward a servant. >Show these two to the guest lounge. Offer them some refreshments while they wait.<
>I am kin to this clan,< sent the elder. >I fail to see how my presence should warrant a security concern. That I should be received like a common stranger is insulting.<
>Your arrival was not anticipated,< sent Crescent, poorly concealing her annoyance. >We have procedures. And so I must insist you wait in the guest lounge until I am able to approve your stay.<
>Fine then,< the elder waved her off. >Do what you must. Send for the Emperor while you’re at it.<
>I most certainly will,< Crescent sent with an icy scowl.
The servant showed Nightgale and the unexpected arrival to the guest lounge while Crescent rushed through the mansion to find the Emperor. With the landing pad clear of personnel, the shuttle gusted up leaves and dust as it took off.
==== (+) ====
Every visit to the island was meant to give Greywind a chance to relax and momentarily let go of her stresses. Yet now with the upcoming family reunion, it seemed she rarely had a moment to herself. Children of both races were demanding personal attention. Fortunately the adults took up most the children’s time by enlisting their help in decorating the grounds. Many of Greywind’s kin arriving for the past few days were demanding a moment to speak with her. Either to catch up after tozons of separation or to ask personal favors. A few were not satisfied with their accommodations. The few civilian guests had been surprisingly less demanding.
Greywind went over the celebration’s menu with the creche’s cooks. The kitchen staff seemed so overwhelmed that they needed to hire a few more professional cooks from Nabolin to help out just for the holiday. Civilians may not have been suitable to be warriors, but they certainly invested in some finer skills. And culinary arts was no exception.
Arrangements had to also be made for some of the children of former pirates to leave for Ieba on Christmas Day to visit their incarcerated parents. Nothing would have given Greywind more pleasure than for her wards to forget their association with convicted criminals. But many of her wards were still attached to their parents, no matter their crimes. Greywind had no desire to put them under unnecessary distress.
Then there was the matter with the visiting Nedatans. Nedatan Titennos Sage Glory had come with eight of his most reliable Deacons and Counselors to inspect Greywind’s children whose psychic powers had activated. The Loroi youth were more than happy to cooperate with handsome Loroi males. Each child was subjected to therapeutic sessions, psychological evaluations and tested with puzzles to determine their suitability for service. And ensure that there was little risk for such candidates to exhibit undesirable behaviors in the future. Greywind had enough bloodthirsty kin to deal with.
Now the old Emperor and Sage Glory strode slowly through the gardens. Attendant Link walked a few paces behind the Emperor, content to make sure Greywind’s cape did not get hooked on protrusions as Sage Glory and Greywind sent in exchange.
>My colleagues are nearly finished with their evaluations, your highness,< Sage Glory sent. >And it is my pleasure to inform you that your brood exhibiting psychic powers seem to show promise. Their chances of becoming competent Sentinels seems good.<
>Coming from you, Titennos, seems most reassuring,< Greywind replied, keeping pace with the shorter male.
>However, there are few candidates showing some undesirable traits.<
>Like who?<
>One of your prodigy, Cadence, seems quite well gifted in telekinesis. She seems already passionately set on becoming a Sentinel. However, she seems to lack the patience and tolerance expected of emissaries. If she wishes to climb the ranks of the Mizol, she must temper these impulses. My Deacons also warn me that one child, Teel, has shown early signs of apathy. Admitting such children into dirals is certain to be catastrophic.<
>What would you suggest?<
>Subject them to cognitive behavioral therapy before commencing diral trials. This will be most crucial before she shows signs of being able to influence other minds. Youth that misuse their abilities can imperil others.<
>I could not agree more,< sent Greywind. >Fortunately this new generation of Loroi will be sent on their trials with a supervisor.<
Sage Glory was surprised by this. >A supervisor? But the whole point of diral training is to test initiates without oversight.<
>I have authorized an exception. At least this once. My human wards will be expected to commence their own trials eventually. But there is concern for their safety since no human has ever commenced diral trials before. Which is why my human wards will be assigned a guardian when it is time for them to begin their trials. Aside from the need to oversee my human wards’ safety, there have been recent suggestions that diral initiates are less likely to give up on their trials with an experienced adult present.<
This astonished Sage Glory. >Personally I think it would be wonderful for the youth to keep their honor. However Traditionalists would argue that such an arrangement defeats the purpose of diral training. To weed out the undesirables from the capable.<
>Indeed many within the Diadem have voiced their disapproval,< Greywind admitted. >But the only unexceptional rule is that every rule is bound to need an exception. Our Union is changing, Titennos. If we warriors wish to keep our dominance, we must explore new possibilities to ascend.<
>A wise opinion, Azerein. Though if your excellency would allow this Cardinal to impart some old wisdom: what the obstinate lack in pliancy, the benign make up for with patience.<
Greywind avoided sighing and sent, >A pretty proverb.<
A few Loroi girls passed them by, blushing as Sage Glory politely acknowledged them with a smile. Ears and cheeks turned deep blue as the girls scurried away.
>You seem to have drawn quite a bit of admiration to yourself, Titennos,< Greywind remarked.
>I would trade all the fame and attention I’ve drawn for a moment of peace, my Emperor,< Sage Glory admitted. >Ever since being discharged from Cry of the Wind, life has been much too eventful. All of Deinar wants a piece of me.<
>Well I assure you that none here will take a piece without my approval,< Greywind assured.
>Much obliged, Azerein. Elders like myself fortunately don’t need to mate as frequently as our young peers. Though my brethren may need some relief. Fortunately that’s what our Detairs are for. Of course… they wouldn’t mind coupling with some of your kin if you have no objection.<
>As a matter of fact we have some graduates returning from their trials whom have not yet had the pleasure of lying with a male. If your brethren would oblige.<
Sage Glory smiled. >I am confident our Detairs will approve.<
Greywind cautioned, >Just as long as it is out of range of my children and wards. And nowhere near the creche grounds.<
>Understood, Azerein. When I first heard you were adopting human children, I admit I was shocked. Conflicted even. But you seem to have domesticated the little creatures quite well. My brethren have been enjoying their company.<
>I am happy to hear it, Cardinal. Should any of my wards harass you or your brethren, be sure to alert me. I will certainly discipline them.<
>No need to worry,< Sage Glory assured. >The children seem to have been quite pleasant. But I must ask if you could translate something for me. And mind you, I am paraphrasing.< He pronounced in Trade, “Disibo tó lenara à lasteri, ha-lay-lew-ya.”
Greywind stopped dead in her tracks, giving Sage Glory a bemused look. >Excuse me?<
>Upon our arrival three days ago, I recall three of the little human females jumping up to surprise my colleagues. The little ones did no harm, but they seemed to be harmonizing these words, dancing in rhythm as they chanted over and over. Perhaps you could clarify. Were the humans attempting a welcoming ritual?<
Greywind sighed, muttering in English, “It’s raining men.”
Sage Glory cocked an eyebrow. >I beg your pardon?<
>The words of an old Terran song. A very tasteless one actually. Though it seems my wards attempted to translate it into Trade.<
>For what purpose?<
>A good laugh no doubt.<
Sage Glory quirked his lips thoughtfully. >I fail to see the humor in that. For a moment I was concerned the human girls wanted my peers and I to exudate.<
Attendant Link bit her tongue to avoid laughing.
>I will be sure to correct my wards for their misbehavior, Titennos. We members of Clan Rainfall strive to exhibit nothing but propriety and order.<
>I don’t think that seems necessary, Azerein. If it was merely meant to be a joke, I see no harm done. It’s reassuring to know that humans have a sense of humor. Inscrutable though it may seem.<
Their pleasant walk was interrupted by Crescent as she approached.
>What is it now, Housemaster?< asked Greywind. >More children’s pranks?<
Crescent thought to send, but whispered instead into her Emperor’s ear.
Greywind gave Crescent a blank stare. “She’s here?”
“Forgive me, Emperor, but I think this requires your intervention.”
>Pardon me, Titennos,< sent Greywind tactfully. >But there is a personal matter that requires my attention. May we continue this discussion later.<
Sage Glory bowed respectfully. >You needn’t ask for any pardon, Emperor. I look forward to the upcoming festivities with you and your family.<
Greywind took her leave with Crescent and Link in tow.
They came to the mansion’s guest lounge. Therein stood Nightgale and an elder Greywind knew all too well.
>Rainlash!<
Rainlash stood formally. >Greetings, Azerein.<
Greywind demanded, >What are you doing here?<
>To join our family reunion,< Rainlash sent calmly.
>I do not seem to recall sending you an invitation.<
>I came of my own volition.<
A storm of many feelings raged within Greywind. Surprise. Confusion. Anger. Intolerance. The Emperor’s impulse to drag Rainlash by her dark hair to the landing pad was so tempting. The cinders of Greywind’s essence threatened to ignite into furious flames. Mustering up her emotional discipline, she tamed the embers. Their fiery ire calmed until the cinders were once again harmless sparks swirling in a smoky aura that cleverly concealed enmity.
>I can only imagine,< Greywind sent calmly, >what sort of influence you used to bypass my security. It would seem most improper if you used unethical methods.<
>Please, sister,< Nightgale sent. >Our mother and I did nothing of the kind. I used my authority to grant our mother clearance.<
Greywind raised an eyebrow. >You?<
>I am touched that you sent me an invitation,< sent Nightgale. >Truly I am. I still feel some bitterness from the unreconcilable issues of our past. But this is a family gathering. We should set our differences aside just for the moment to enjoy the celebration. But I could not make the journey from Perrein if Rainlash were not allowed to join us. I ask only that you allow us to partake in this celebration. Surely you would not deny that to your own kin.<
Greywind measured up her younger sister from head to toe. Her essence was a transparent swirl of vulnerability, their winding arches restraining any thought of resentment. Like any former Mizol, Nightgale was a master of secrecy and tact. Yet Greywind sensed no deception.
The Emperor’s focus turned to Rainlash, a storming cloud of violet pride, cleverly concealed by a gray veil. Greywind remembered that storm’s deluge that soothingly washed any who praised its verity yet equally capable of lashing out for even the slightest dissent.
The former Torrai turned Abess was old. Her droopy eyelids sagged more than Greywind’s. Detairs were expected to look presentable. The more elderly of their caste were encouraged to take cosmetic surgeries for the menfolk they cared for. The old Abess was no longer interested in looking young or impressing a male with her beauty. And so allowed time to etch its mark.
Greywind could safely guess her mother wanted something from the Emperor. Greywind tried distracting the Loroi from her suspicious tone with an observation, >You seem to be out of uniform, Detair Biressed Rainlash.<
>Pink was never really my color,< Rainlash sent wryly. >Besides, I have taken time off from my duties as Abess.<
>But surely an elder such as yourself has not forgotten it is prohibited for a warrior to wear armor unfitting her station. Black armor is reserved for Sentinels.<
>This is neither Mizol nor Torrai armor, if that is your concern, Azerein. Just private panoply made to suit my needs and personal taste. I’ve always liked dark gray.<
>It seems to go well with your aging hair,< Greywind pointed out.
Rainlash chuckled, her grin making her facial lines show. >I’ve received many praises for reaching my six-hundred and seventh tozon.<
Greywind took a step forward. >Abess, why are you here?<
>I want to see you.<
>What for?<
>I am most anxious to discuss the details with you. But surely you will allow your mother to rest and enjoy the festivities. There are quite a few kin I am eager to catch up with.<
Greywind took another dominant step forward. >Do not disguise reticence with a playful dance-<
>Azerein! Sister! Please!< Nightgale interjected as she stood between Greywind and their mother. >Our mother is dying.<
Greywind’s stared blankly at Rainlash. >Is that true?<
Rainlash sighed, >I am very old. Doranzers have informed me that I may have only a few tozons left. I would have preferred if you let me say it, Nightgale.<
>I did not mean to be out of order, mother,< Nightgale apologized. >Greywind, please. We came all this way from Perrein. Surely you will not subjugate us to an interrogation. Can we not simply enjoy this reunion? We cannot erase bitterness, but surely we can put our differences aside just for a while.<
Greywind’s posture was as stiff as a statue. Her fists tightened.
Housemaster Crescent whispered exclusively to the Emperor, >Simply say the word, your highness, and I’ll have Rainlash removed.<
Greywind exhaled audibly through her nostrils, dampening the cinders that threatened to burst aflame. Honestly she did not want Rainlash here. But as long as the former Diaderet turned Abess stayed in line. >I trust that you, Abess, will be courteous to all our guests and residents of the island.<
Rainlash laughed, >Since when have I been uncourteous?<
>Housemaster,< Greywind instructed, >see to it that Detair Biressed Rainlash receives accommodations within the guest house.<
>Pardon me, your highness,< sent Crescent, >but the guest house is fully booked. Perhaps one of the finer rooms aboard one of the trimarans-<
>Switch one of the occupants of the guest house out then. On second thought, switch out two. I would prefer my mother and sister reside closer to home during their visit.<
>That seems kind,< Rainlash sent with a tip of her head.
>Your luggage will be transferred to your assigned rooms as soon as the Housemaster has found you suitable accommodations,< sent Greywind. >May your visit be nothing but pleasant.<
Rainlash offered an icy smile. >We will enjoy what we can.<
It was my hope that this and the next few chapters would make just before Christmas this year. Seemed very fitting if you know what I mean. But we'll just have to wait and see as things progress. I hope you enjoy.
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IX - A Happy Reunion Maybe?
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Torrai Lashret Arclight remembered her time at the invasion of the Steppes. She remembered having lost two ships while serving under the former Torrai Lashret Stillstorm, Thunderbolt and Torrent. She remembered quite a few comrades who lost their lives in the line of duty to fend off the Umiak. Having become accustomed to death and loss on a daily basis, Arclight was certain her time would be coming. The unforeseen arrival of Ensign Alexander Jardin. And the intervention of the Terrans that followed changed everything.
Dhalid seemed to have other plans for the veteran of the Charred Steppes. As thanks for her selfless servitude in the face of incredible danger, Emperor Greywind saw fit that Arclight should take some time to recuperate from the intense combat and take command of patrolling the Seren Sector with her own command ship, Lone Fire. Being the great granddaughter of the fourth emperor certainly had its perks.
Now Arclight was aboard a shuttle inbound for West Ginazeigo Isle. It had been well over twenty one years since she visited Deinar, where she birthed her second daughter, Comet, and left her to be trained at their familial clan’s creche.
To Arclight’s left sat Ashrain. The two had run into each other by coincidence at the Toridas spaceport. Not to mention coming by quite a number of their kin and some of Clan Rainfall’s closest friends. They transferred to a shuttle, which now bore them and dozens of their familial relations to West Ginazeigo Isle. Some Loroi broadcasted their conversations openly during the flight. Others blocked out the telepathic chatter as they shared more private dialogues with each other.
Just like Arclight and Ashrain.
>So have you seen the humans?< asked Arclight.
>On three separate occasions,< Ashrain replied.
>I didn’t believe the rumors initially,< Arclight admitted. >But when I received the news directly from our kin, I was quite surprised. I haven’t seen a human since our first contact days ever since being assigned to the Seren Sector. But I never thought I’d get a chance to see human children at our family’s creche. Are they as mischievous as the rumors say?<
>Quite,< Ashrain confirmed. >But they are sweet from time to time. And they’re quick to fall in line when Greywind is around to lay down the law.<
Arclight twerked her lips thoughtfully. >Well, our sire and ruler certainly has that effect. And it’s true that Greywind allows the males of their race to mingle with our clan’s children?<
>They are training to be warriors after all,< confirmed Ashrain.
>And the Loroi youth have been able to restrain themselves in the presence of these little males?<
>Surprisingly yes. The first batch of Greywind’s human wards made the Loroi children anxious to say the least. A few even tried getting intimate with their new male peers. New rules and conditioning had to be put into effect to keep the children in check.<
>Even the human girls?<
>Surprisingly no. Human girls’ interest in the opposite sex is surprisingly mild compared to the passion of a Loroi. One might say the human girls are better disciplined than our own youth. Quite admirable I admit. A pity though not all of the humans will be cut out to serve as warriors.<
>Really? Then why bother training them at the creche at all?<
>Don’t you remember after the war? Greywind began adopting Loroi wards of civilian heritage as part of her effort to reach out to the civilian populace. She thinks remedying the prejudice that’s been troubling the Loroi worlds will pacify the civilians long enough until the Council is unified on a long-term solution. Win back the faith of the masses. Pushing civilian youth to be warriors and encouraging human children to serve alongside them is meant to inspire the public. Even if some of the human children fail to be warriors, Greywind intends to employ them as useful members of the family.<
Arclight didn’t bother hiding her astonishment. >How controversial! And most unorthodox. I can only imagine the amount of trouble she must get from the Traditionalists for it.<
Ashrain scoffed, >You know how Traditionalists are. Confusing old practices for divine mandate.<
>But back to the matter of the creche. I hear the Emperor is hosting a human holiday as a theme for our family’s great reunion. What do they call it again?<
>Christmas.<
>So what does this Christmas holiday entail?<
>Mostly decorating local dwellings in plant-based ornaments and red and white colors. And lots of feasting. I was shocked to learn just how gluttonous the humans can be during this celebration. The highlight of the celebration is of course the exchange of gifts.<
Arclight drew a parallel, >Kind of like Windfury.<
>I’ve thought Christmas having more in common with Whitecap. Minus the macabre aspects of course. Coincidently, like the Whitecap holiday, Christmas commemorates a figure known for gift-giving and benevolent deeds. Santa Claus.<
Arclight quirked an eyebrow. >Who?<
>A mythical human male said to perform charitable acts for fellow humans many centuries ago. Christmas was initially meant to celebrate a Christian deity. Don’t quite remember how Santa Claus became incorporated into the Christmas celebration. Though I seem to remember Judith de la Cruz mentioning that the original fable of Saint Nicholas was revitalized a few centuries ago by the efforts of artists who dedicated their works in Saint Nicholas’ honor. Many poets and writers wrote extensively about him, glorifying his charity. Of course many of these literary works deviated from the authentic history of Saint Nicholas.<
>Why? Were the authors ill-informed?<
>Perhaps. Though some human authors have been known to change narratives to vivify their myths and histories.<
Arclight stopped her, >Wait I’m confused. You’re saying that the mythical Santa Claus is just a reimagined narrative of another human called Saint Nicholas?<
>Essentially.<
>That makes no sense. What’s the point of warping a true account in favor of broadcasting a false one?<
>Who knows? Even I don’t fully understand it. Humans seem to have always had an obsession with fiction. Has something in part to do with improving their creativity. Creative humans are believed to have better ingenuity. Sometimes fiction was used by humans as an indirect way of challenging seemingly unjust sovereigns or to encourage humans to embrace revolutionary principles.<
>How cowardly reticent.<
>It’s a human thing. In any case, the stories that inspired Christmas may be disappointing. But the ceremonies make up for this. I was lucky enough to partake in the alien holiday during my first meeting with Greywind’s wards and human staff. Quite enjoyable.<
>I hope so.<
A Soroin Paset announced to all passengers, >We will be arriving at the island shortly. Please return to your seats and strap in as we prepare to land.<
Torrai, Mizols and Soroins secured their seatbelts. Within bimas, the shuttle touched down at the creche’s landing pad. The Loroi filed out of the shuttle down the loading ramp. There stood a number of servants standing at attention behind Housemaster Crescent.
The Housemaster addressed the arrivals, >Greetings, honorable officers and kin of Clan Rainfall. We are happy to receive you here at West Ginazeigo Isle. I am at your service for whatever you may need during your stay with us. Each of our guests has been assigned a room either within the guest house or aboard one of the anchored ships offshore. Please have your wristbands ready for registry so we may register you as quickly as possible. Our servants will be happy to guide you to your rooms and help with your luggage should you require assistance.<
One by one the Loroi came forward to show their wristbands. Crescent inspected each name registered on her wristcomm’s holopanel before assigning a room to every checked-in guest. Crescent worked swiftly to get these Loroi off the landing pad as quickly as possible. The shuttle would need to vacate the landing pad before the next shuttle arrived. For the past few days she had been inspecting and checking in hundreds of guests.
The last two guests approached.
>Thank you, Torrai Sadait Nightgale,< Crescent confirmed. >You seem to be the younger sister of Torrai Azerein Greywind.<
>I am,< Nightgale confirmed.
>I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before.<
>This is my first visit to this creche.<
>Well, I am sure the Emperor will be pleased to know you accepted her invitation. You must be exhausted after a long journey from Perrein.< Crescent turned her focus to the last guest, motioning to register her wristband.
The old stranger stopped her, >Don’t bother. I doubt you will find my name on your list.<
That was odd to Crescent. >Excuse me, but unregistered guests would have been stopped at the Toridas checkpoint. How might you have bypassed-<
>I gave her clearance,< sent Nightgale.
>I beg your pardon, Torrai Sadait. But our policy is no guest may bring surprise visitors without our security’s approval. I must ask who your visitor is.<
The elder gave her name.
Crescent could not conceal her surprised tone, >I do not believe you were given an invitation.<
>I didn’t need one,< the elder confirmed. >I am here for personal matters. My business is my own.<
Crescent momentarily panicked before calling forward a servant. >Show these two to the guest lounge. Offer them some refreshments while they wait.<
>I am kin to this clan,< sent the elder. >I fail to see how my presence should warrant a security concern. That I should be received like a common stranger is insulting.<
>Your arrival was not anticipated,< sent Crescent, poorly concealing her annoyance. >We have procedures. And so I must insist you wait in the guest lounge until I am able to approve your stay.<
>Fine then,< the elder waved her off. >Do what you must. Send for the Emperor while you’re at it.<
>I most certainly will,< Crescent sent with an icy scowl.
The servant showed Nightgale and the unexpected arrival to the guest lounge while Crescent rushed through the mansion to find the Emperor. With the landing pad clear of personnel, the shuttle gusted up leaves and dust as it took off.
==== (+) ====
Every visit to the island was meant to give Greywind a chance to relax and momentarily let go of her stresses. Yet now with the upcoming family reunion, it seemed she rarely had a moment to herself. Children of both races were demanding personal attention. Fortunately the adults took up most the children’s time by enlisting their help in decorating the grounds. Many of Greywind’s kin arriving for the past few days were demanding a moment to speak with her. Either to catch up after tozons of separation or to ask personal favors. A few were not satisfied with their accommodations. The few civilian guests had been surprisingly less demanding.
Greywind went over the celebration’s menu with the creche’s cooks. The kitchen staff seemed so overwhelmed that they needed to hire a few more professional cooks from Nabolin to help out just for the holiday. Civilians may not have been suitable to be warriors, but they certainly invested in some finer skills. And culinary arts was no exception.
Arrangements had to also be made for some of the children of former pirates to leave for Ieba on Christmas Day to visit their incarcerated parents. Nothing would have given Greywind more pleasure than for her wards to forget their association with convicted criminals. But many of her wards were still attached to their parents, no matter their crimes. Greywind had no desire to put them under unnecessary distress.
Then there was the matter with the visiting Nedatans. Nedatan Titennos Sage Glory had come with eight of his most reliable Deacons and Counselors to inspect Greywind’s children whose psychic powers had activated. The Loroi youth were more than happy to cooperate with handsome Loroi males. Each child was subjected to therapeutic sessions, psychological evaluations and tested with puzzles to determine their suitability for service. And ensure that there was little risk for such candidates to exhibit undesirable behaviors in the future. Greywind had enough bloodthirsty kin to deal with.
Now the old Emperor and Sage Glory strode slowly through the gardens. Attendant Link walked a few paces behind the Emperor, content to make sure Greywind’s cape did not get hooked on protrusions as Sage Glory and Greywind sent in exchange.
>My colleagues are nearly finished with their evaluations, your highness,< Sage Glory sent. >And it is my pleasure to inform you that your brood exhibiting psychic powers seem to show promise. Their chances of becoming competent Sentinels seems good.<
>Coming from you, Titennos, seems most reassuring,< Greywind replied, keeping pace with the shorter male.
>However, there are few candidates showing some undesirable traits.<
>Like who?<
>One of your prodigy, Cadence, seems quite well gifted in telekinesis. She seems already passionately set on becoming a Sentinel. However, she seems to lack the patience and tolerance expected of emissaries. If she wishes to climb the ranks of the Mizol, she must temper these impulses. My Deacons also warn me that one child, Teel, has shown early signs of apathy. Admitting such children into dirals is certain to be catastrophic.<
>What would you suggest?<
>Subject them to cognitive behavioral therapy before commencing diral trials. This will be most crucial before she shows signs of being able to influence other minds. Youth that misuse their abilities can imperil others.<
>I could not agree more,< sent Greywind. >Fortunately this new generation of Loroi will be sent on their trials with a supervisor.<
Sage Glory was surprised by this. >A supervisor? But the whole point of diral training is to test initiates without oversight.<
>I have authorized an exception. At least this once. My human wards will be expected to commence their own trials eventually. But there is concern for their safety since no human has ever commenced diral trials before. Which is why my human wards will be assigned a guardian when it is time for them to begin their trials. Aside from the need to oversee my human wards’ safety, there have been recent suggestions that diral initiates are less likely to give up on their trials with an experienced adult present.<
This astonished Sage Glory. >Personally I think it would be wonderful for the youth to keep their honor. However Traditionalists would argue that such an arrangement defeats the purpose of diral training. To weed out the undesirables from the capable.<
>Indeed many within the Diadem have voiced their disapproval,< Greywind admitted. >But the only unexceptional rule is that every rule is bound to need an exception. Our Union is changing, Titennos. If we warriors wish to keep our dominance, we must explore new possibilities to ascend.<
>A wise opinion, Azerein. Though if your excellency would allow this Cardinal to impart some old wisdom: what the obstinate lack in pliancy, the benign make up for with patience.<
Greywind avoided sighing and sent, >A pretty proverb.<
A few Loroi girls passed them by, blushing as Sage Glory politely acknowledged them with a smile. Ears and cheeks turned deep blue as the girls scurried away.
>You seem to have drawn quite a bit of admiration to yourself, Titennos,< Greywind remarked.
>I would trade all the fame and attention I’ve drawn for a moment of peace, my Emperor,< Sage Glory admitted. >Ever since being discharged from Cry of the Wind, life has been much too eventful. All of Deinar wants a piece of me.<
>Well I assure you that none here will take a piece without my approval,< Greywind assured.
>Much obliged, Azerein. Elders like myself fortunately don’t need to mate as frequently as our young peers. Though my brethren may need some relief. Fortunately that’s what our Detairs are for. Of course… they wouldn’t mind coupling with some of your kin if you have no objection.<
>As a matter of fact we have some graduates returning from their trials whom have not yet had the pleasure of lying with a male. If your brethren would oblige.<
Sage Glory smiled. >I am confident our Detairs will approve.<
Greywind cautioned, >Just as long as it is out of range of my children and wards. And nowhere near the creche grounds.<
>Understood, Azerein. When I first heard you were adopting human children, I admit I was shocked. Conflicted even. But you seem to have domesticated the little creatures quite well. My brethren have been enjoying their company.<
>I am happy to hear it, Cardinal. Should any of my wards harass you or your brethren, be sure to alert me. I will certainly discipline them.<
>No need to worry,< Sage Glory assured. >The children seem to have been quite pleasant. But I must ask if you could translate something for me. And mind you, I am paraphrasing.< He pronounced in Trade, “Disibo tó lenara à lasteri, ha-lay-lew-ya.”
Greywind stopped dead in her tracks, giving Sage Glory a bemused look. >Excuse me?<
>Upon our arrival three days ago, I recall three of the little human females jumping up to surprise my colleagues. The little ones did no harm, but they seemed to be harmonizing these words, dancing in rhythm as they chanted over and over. Perhaps you could clarify. Were the humans attempting a welcoming ritual?<
Greywind sighed, muttering in English, “It’s raining men.”
Sage Glory cocked an eyebrow. >I beg your pardon?<
>The words of an old Terran song. A very tasteless one actually. Though it seems my wards attempted to translate it into Trade.<
>For what purpose?<
>A good laugh no doubt.<
Sage Glory quirked his lips thoughtfully. >I fail to see the humor in that. For a moment I was concerned the human girls wanted my peers and I to exudate.<
Attendant Link bit her tongue to avoid laughing.
>I will be sure to correct my wards for their misbehavior, Titennos. We members of Clan Rainfall strive to exhibit nothing but propriety and order.<
>I don’t think that seems necessary, Azerein. If it was merely meant to be a joke, I see no harm done. It’s reassuring to know that humans have a sense of humor. Inscrutable though it may seem.<
Their pleasant walk was interrupted by Crescent as she approached.
>What is it now, Housemaster?< asked Greywind. >More children’s pranks?<
Crescent thought to send, but whispered instead into her Emperor’s ear.
Greywind gave Crescent a blank stare. “She’s here?”
“Forgive me, Emperor, but I think this requires your intervention.”
>Pardon me, Titennos,< sent Greywind tactfully. >But there is a personal matter that requires my attention. May we continue this discussion later.<
Sage Glory bowed respectfully. >You needn’t ask for any pardon, Emperor. I look forward to the upcoming festivities with you and your family.<
Greywind took her leave with Crescent and Link in tow.
They came to the mansion’s guest lounge. Therein stood Nightgale and an elder Greywind knew all too well.
>Rainlash!<
Rainlash stood formally. >Greetings, Azerein.<
Greywind demanded, >What are you doing here?<
>To join our family reunion,< Rainlash sent calmly.
>I do not seem to recall sending you an invitation.<
>I came of my own volition.<
A storm of many feelings raged within Greywind. Surprise. Confusion. Anger. Intolerance. The Emperor’s impulse to drag Rainlash by her dark hair to the landing pad was so tempting. The cinders of Greywind’s essence threatened to ignite into furious flames. Mustering up her emotional discipline, she tamed the embers. Their fiery ire calmed until the cinders were once again harmless sparks swirling in a smoky aura that cleverly concealed enmity.
>I can only imagine,< Greywind sent calmly, >what sort of influence you used to bypass my security. It would seem most improper if you used unethical methods.<
>Please, sister,< Nightgale sent. >Our mother and I did nothing of the kind. I used my authority to grant our mother clearance.<
Greywind raised an eyebrow. >You?<
>I am touched that you sent me an invitation,< sent Nightgale. >Truly I am. I still feel some bitterness from the unreconcilable issues of our past. But this is a family gathering. We should set our differences aside just for the moment to enjoy the celebration. But I could not make the journey from Perrein if Rainlash were not allowed to join us. I ask only that you allow us to partake in this celebration. Surely you would not deny that to your own kin.<
Greywind measured up her younger sister from head to toe. Her essence was a transparent swirl of vulnerability, their winding arches restraining any thought of resentment. Like any former Mizol, Nightgale was a master of secrecy and tact. Yet Greywind sensed no deception.
The Emperor’s focus turned to Rainlash, a storming cloud of violet pride, cleverly concealed by a gray veil. Greywind remembered that storm’s deluge that soothingly washed any who praised its verity yet equally capable of lashing out for even the slightest dissent.
The former Torrai turned Abess was old. Her droopy eyelids sagged more than Greywind’s. Detairs were expected to look presentable. The more elderly of their caste were encouraged to take cosmetic surgeries for the menfolk they cared for. The old Abess was no longer interested in looking young or impressing a male with her beauty. And so allowed time to etch its mark.
Greywind could safely guess her mother wanted something from the Emperor. Greywind tried distracting the Loroi from her suspicious tone with an observation, >You seem to be out of uniform, Detair Biressed Rainlash.<
>Pink was never really my color,< Rainlash sent wryly. >Besides, I have taken time off from my duties as Abess.<
>But surely an elder such as yourself has not forgotten it is prohibited for a warrior to wear armor unfitting her station. Black armor is reserved for Sentinels.<
>This is neither Mizol nor Torrai armor, if that is your concern, Azerein. Just private panoply made to suit my needs and personal taste. I’ve always liked dark gray.<
>It seems to go well with your aging hair,< Greywind pointed out.
Rainlash chuckled, her grin making her facial lines show. >I’ve received many praises for reaching my six-hundred and seventh tozon.<
Greywind took a step forward. >Abess, why are you here?<
>I want to see you.<
>What for?<
>I am most anxious to discuss the details with you. But surely you will allow your mother to rest and enjoy the festivities. There are quite a few kin I am eager to catch up with.<
Greywind took another dominant step forward. >Do not disguise reticence with a playful dance-<
>Azerein! Sister! Please!< Nightgale interjected as she stood between Greywind and their mother. >Our mother is dying.<
Greywind’s stared blankly at Rainlash. >Is that true?<
Rainlash sighed, >I am very old. Doranzers have informed me that I may have only a few tozons left. I would have preferred if you let me say it, Nightgale.<
>I did not mean to be out of order, mother,< Nightgale apologized. >Greywind, please. We came all this way from Perrein. Surely you will not subjugate us to an interrogation. Can we not simply enjoy this reunion? We cannot erase bitterness, but surely we can put our differences aside just for a while.<
Greywind’s posture was as stiff as a statue. Her fists tightened.
Housemaster Crescent whispered exclusively to the Emperor, >Simply say the word, your highness, and I’ll have Rainlash removed.<
Greywind exhaled audibly through her nostrils, dampening the cinders that threatened to burst aflame. Honestly she did not want Rainlash here. But as long as the former Diaderet turned Abess stayed in line. >I trust that you, Abess, will be courteous to all our guests and residents of the island.<
Rainlash laughed, >Since when have I been uncourteous?<
>Housemaster,< Greywind instructed, >see to it that Detair Biressed Rainlash receives accommodations within the guest house.<
>Pardon me, your highness,< sent Crescent, >but the guest house is fully booked. Perhaps one of the finer rooms aboard one of the trimarans-<
>Switch one of the occupants of the guest house out then. On second thought, switch out two. I would prefer my mother and sister reside closer to home during their visit.<
>That seems kind,< Rainlash sent with a tip of her head.
>Your luggage will be transferred to your assigned rooms as soon as the Housemaster has found you suitable accommodations,< sent Greywind. >May your visit be nothing but pleasant.<
Rainlash offered an icy smile. >We will enjoy what we can.<
Last edited by Snoofman on Sun Dec 17, 2023 6:53 am, edited 3 times in total.
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wolf329
- Posts: 218
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Re: A Chorus of Stars
Oh this is gonna be good.
#1 Tempo simp
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
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raistlin34
- Posts: 270
- Joined: Sun Nov 08, 2015 3:46 pm
Re: A Chorus of Stars
Let me guess, at some point Rainlash will make a very ill-advised comment or move regarding Ben, and Greywind will react accordingly to her newfound motherly impulses..
Re: A Chorus of Stars
Author's note: Not quite a festive chapter. But we are getting there. Merry Christmas everyone… and Happy Hanukkah Jewsers!
-
X - Naughty Aliens
=== (+) ===
23 December 2186 C.E.
Eleventh Day of Deinar’s Fourteenth Nanapi. Standard Year of Unification 1898.
Message for Long Quill. From Ben Teigorastir.
Seasons greetings, Quill. It has been hectic here at West Ginazeigo Isle. More and more guests are arriving to the island day after day. By tomorrow we’ll be celebrating Christmas Eve. It feels good to see many old friends and be meeting new ones.
Speaking of old friends, Rune and Softwood have come back. Though now they go by their warrior names, Moonrune and Ironwood. Weird how just eight years ago they were little girls. It’s good to be reunited after so long.
It kind of sucks that not everyone can be here with us for the celebration. And by ‘suck’ I mean it’s sad. I wish you could be here with us to celebrate. But I guess that’s warrior duty.
Your daughter, Cap, is doing well and has made friends with Ripley. Let’s hope they can stay friends if you know what I mean.
I hope you are safe while training at Upway. Please send me some recordings or at least pictures of the desert. You and all our family who cannot be here are always on my mind.
And no, ‘on my mind’ is not meant to be a mind joke.
Merry Christmas, Long Quill.
Ben did a quick proof-read of his letter. He had been busy writing dozens of letters and sending them out to old friends whom he had grown up with. He didn’t bother composing formal letters. The thirteen-year old felt that writing formal letters seemed impersonal and preferred to write from the heart.
Satisfied and not able to think of anything else to say, Ben tapped a few more buttons on the holo-panel of his intercom. It chimed, indicating that the message was being sent to the nearest buoy which in turn would transmit it to Mezan. For those living outside the Deinarid star system, it would take weeks or months before Ben’s low priority messages reached their intended recipients.
The door slid open.
“Greetings, Ben,” Nedatan Tiret Fertile Spring said with a smile.
Ben jumped at the sudden intrusion. “Stars, Spring! I’d appreciate it if you knocked.”
“Knock on what?”
“Uh, the door.”
“Why?”
“So I know someone wants to come in.”
“Humans seem to have some strange habits.”
Fertile Spring had arrived along with the rest of the Nedatans days ago. He had paid several visits to the island at the start of Greywind’s adoption program. Every visit, the humans and Nedatans had learnt many things from one another’s cultures. While many elders disapproved exposing the Loroi youth to menfolk too soon, Fertile Spring and his brethren certainly left a positive impression on Greywind’s human wards.
“So what seems above?” Spring asked, leaning against Ben’s desk.
Ben cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “Don’t you mean ‘what’s up’?”
“Yes.”
Ben shrugged, shutting down his intercom. “Just writing some messages to friends who couldn’t make it to Christmas. I like them to know I think of them.” He stuffed the intercom into a secure-box under his desk. Unlike the other children, Ben was allowed to have electronic devices since he acted as a part-time guardian. Though he was advised to keep them out of sight so as not to make the other children jealous.
“That seems very kind of you,” Spring complimented.
“How about you? Has chastity killed any of your brothers yet?”
It was Spring’s turn to raise an odd eye. “That’s not exactly how it works, Ben. But your concern is touching. Anyway, no. We have been fortunate enough to receive some visitors. I spent last night with a graduate.”
Ben was briefly shocked. “What?! You mean one of our graduates?!”
“Not a relative! What do you take me for? A Yellow Sun? It was Tempo’s daughter.”
“Oh!” Ben remembered growing up with Aplomb. She was pleasant, though a bit dainty at times. Then again so was Tempo. “Sorry. My bad.”
“No need to worry.”
Knock! Knock!
Someone new was at the door.
“See? At least somebody knows how to knock,” Ben commented. “Come in.” No answer. “Uh, you may enter?”
Knock! Knock!
“I said-” A thought occurred to Ben. Leaving his desk, Ben tapped the door panel. The door slid open.
Io waved with a grin, handing her Robin phone to Ben.
It read: Top of the morning, non-Earthling.
Ben snickered, typing a reply before handing the Robin phone back.
Ben wrote: Good morning, little girl from a moon.
Io wrote: Haven’t seen you all morning.
Ben: Been busy.
Io peeked inside past Ben to see the slightly shorter Loroi. She wrote: Who’s the hobbit?
Ben replied: A very musical one. Name’s Fertile Spring.
Io: Fertile Spring? What weird names the Loroi come up with?
“Ben? Who is your friend?” Spring peeked past the boy’s shoulder.
“Oh, this is a new arrival.” Ben introduced Io and Spring to one another. Spring found it odd that the little girl relied heavily on her electronic device for communication.
Io wrote: How old are you, Spring?
Spring typed back: Forty-seven.
Io was shocked.
Io: But you look so young.
Spring blushed. “What pleasant charmers you young humans are.”
The young girl turned her focus to Ben
Io wrote: Ben, Autumn sent me to get you.
Ben: Human Autumn or Loroi Autumn?
It was Io’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
Io: Human one. She said the last shuttle is coming.
Ben: Great. Hopefully Clay will be on one of those.
Io: Clay? Is that another Loroi friend of yours?
Ben: Yup. Let’s go see.
Handing the phone back to Io, Ben turned to Spring. “We’re going to the landing pad. Want to come with?”
“I can’t,” Spring politely declined. “I have to assist my brethren with counseling today. But we will see each other later for festivities.” He turned to Io one more time and typed on her phone: It was a pleasure meeting you.
Io: Likewise Hobbit man.
The humans left a mildly bewildered Spring. It took the Nedatan a few moments to remember hobbits from the “Lord of the Rings” fictional recording the human inhabitants introduced him to upon his last visit a year and a half ago. How queer to use fictional iconography to associate with people, he thought.
Fertile Spring left the dorms to rejoin his brethren.
Io and Ben walked side by side on their way to the landing pad. All the while they swapped Io’s Robin phone back and forth.
Ben wrote: Io, how’s your hearing?
Io’s answer: Better. I can hear so much more now. But the Asian doctor guy said my ears aren’t completely healed yet.
Ben: You mean Doctor Yuan?
Io: I guess. I’ve heard some amazing sounds. Some alien bugs buzzing around. I finally know what a buzz sounds like. It’s incredible.
Ben: I’m happy for you.
As they exited the corridors and entered the gardens, Io stopped. She sniffled, rubbing her bleary eyes. Her lips quivered as she tried to fight the tears.
“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at him, hearing a muffle of his voice.
Ben wrote on the phone: What’s wrong?
It took Io a few moments to compose herself.
She wrote back: Sorry. I was just thinking about my parents. I wish I could have heard what they sounded like before they died.
Ben could see Io was fighting to keep the tears at bay.
He wrote: I’m sorry Io. I lost my mom too when I was five. It sucks. I know not everyone likes hugs but do you want one?
Io hesitated. Ben’s gentle smile and outstretched arms was all the signal she needed. Wrapping her arms around his ribs, Io sniffled as Ben held her. For several minutes they just stood in each other’s arms. Every now and then a gawker passing by eyed the situation before moving on. Ben didn’t care.
Io took in a deep breathe as she released Ben.
She wrote: Thanks Ben. You’re a good friend.
Ben: I try. Feeling a little better?
Io nodded.
A roar from overhead caught Ben’s attention. The next shuttle was setting down at the landing pad on the other side of the grounds. He motioned for Io to follow. They ran into many Loroi and a few human peers on their way to greet the last wave of arrivals. The grounds were becoming more compact now with all the people that had come for the holiday.
Io wrote on her phone: You want to know something Ben? You’re not what I expected.
Ben: What do you mean?
Io: Well I thought a kid growing up with aliens would be more alien.
Ben snickered, writing: I’m not different from other kids. We’re just raised in the Loroi culture.
Io meant to write something else. But stopped as she took note of a large shadow looming over them. She looked up to see a monstrous head overshadowed by Deinar’s sun.
Io wheezed, “H-h-h-h-huuuuu-”
It was hard to tell what Io was trying to say. But the seven-year old’s shriek was an obvious sign of terror. She jumped behind Ben for cover.
“Woah! What’s the problem?” Ben asked, looking back at a very frightened Io.
Io wheezed, “Ma-ma-ma.” She meant to say ‘monster’, pointing up at the blue giant.
The colossus looked down puzzled at the pair of young humans. “Forgive me, little sister,” said Ambassador Ziga. “I hope I have not frightened you.”
“Greetings, Ziga,” said Ben.
Io froze, shriveling up nervously as her body guard casually walked up to the blue giant to hug him. Ziga bent down to return the gesture.
“It is good to see you again, Ben,” said Ziga, resting a massive four-fingered hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I hope the Loroi have been treating you well.”
“Always.” Ben looked back as Ziga released him. Io just stared wide-eyed, not understanding how a boy could be so casual in the presence of such a giant.
Ben motioned for the phone. It took several waves of Ben’s hand before Io snapped out of her shock and handed it to him.
Ben wrote: You okay?
Io replied: Ben what the hell is that?
Ben: This is Ambassador Ziga. He works with the Emperor. He’s a Barsam. Don’t be scared. He’s really friendly. Come and say hi.
Io swallowed, looking up nervously at the horned giant.
Ben said, “It’s okay, Io. He won’t hurt you. Come on.” Ben gently ushered her forward.
Ziga knelt down, extending a hand as he mimicked humanity’s greeting customs. “Nice to meet you, Io.”
Io regarded Ziga’s four-fingered hand reluctantly. She looked up again, more clearly catching sight of two squinty golden eyes gazing back in a grimace. Yet Io suddenly didn’t feel frightened by Ziga. He didn’t look like a monster. More like a horned, scowling, noseless toad. Io couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. Cautiously and tenderly, Io took hold of what she assumed was Ziga’s index finger and gently shook.
“Wa-oo,” Io whispered amazedly.
After being properly introduced, Ziga stood back to his full height.
“Ziga, I had no idea you came already,” said Ben.
“We arrived late into the night,” said Ziga. “It seemed wise for the Counselors and Ambassadors to arrive when the rest of the creche was sleeping. Cause less commotion.”
“The whole Diadem’s here?”
“Not all. I believe the Emperor made it clear in her invitation that all Counselors were welcome provided they show courtesy and respect to all of the creche’s occupants.”
“So how many Counselors came?”
“About half.”
“So… half the Council hates us then?”
Ziga was silent a moment.
Ben scoffed out a laugh, “Heh. Sorry. Bad joke.” Humor was a foreign concept to most Barsam.
“I see. By the way, have you seen Ambassador Dermo?”
“No, why?”
“Seems to have gone missing. Would you let him know I am looking for him if you happen to find him?”
Ben tapped his chest twice. “Will do”
Ziga excused himself. Io jumped as the ground seemed to tremble with every step the Barsam took.
Io and Ben walked on to the landing pad. Upon Io’s request, Ben explained what he and Ziga talked about.
Io asked via phone: So who’s Dermo?
Ben wrote: Another alien ambassador.
Io: Another Barsam.
Ben: Nope. Dermo is a Neridi.
Io: What’s a Neridi?
Ben: Little blue guys about a meter tall with round eyes, long nose and big floppy ears.
The seven-year old processed this, trying to build an image in her head.
Io: What like an elephant?
Ben: Yeah there you go.
Guards stood on patrol around the landing pad to ensure that no one wandered too close during the frequent landings for the past few days. Ben and Io had to wait outside the perimeter of guards as Crescent checked in the last wave of guests.
In the midst of the crowd admitted entry to the grounds, Ben saw a familiar face with platinum skin and brunette hair. Clay stuck a hand up, waving at Ben. She made her way through the crowd of arrivals. She ran up to Ben, throwing her arms around him.
“Ben,” Clay said with a smile. “It is so good to see you again.”
Ben laughed, hugging her close. “Hey, Clay.”
“It is actually Fireclay now,” she pointed out.
“Well, Fireclay, you got really big.”
“So have you, Ben. Very big actually. But still shorter than me.”
Ben playfully punched her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll outgrow you one day.”
Fireclay looked back, her focus on a Loroi making her way through the crowd, carrying two cases. The older female got some unpleasant looks from some of the warriors around her, but they just distanced themselves. She walked up to Fireclay, heaving as she locked eyes with Fireclay.
Fireclay held up her hands in wordless gesture. Ben could guess they were bickering.
“Uh, friend of yours?” Ben asked.
Fireclay turned her focus back to Ben. “Ben, may I present my mother, Cesium.”
Cesium’s eyes went wide as if having a great realization. Most likely courtesy of her daughter.
Fireclay said, “My mother says she is honored to meet you, Ben. And she is happy you were so kind to me during my upbringing here.”
“Oh, uh, my pleasure, Miss Cesium,” said Ben. He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Cesium regarded the human hand with some confusion. Upon Fireclay’s explanation of human greeting customs, Cesium freed her right hand of luggage. She hesitated, having never touched a human before, but finally took Ben’s hand.
Fireclay said, “My mother is amazed how hot humans are.”
Ben laughed, “Easy there. I’m only thirteen.”
Cesium looked to her daughter. Her cheeks and ears turned deep blue as Fireclay explained the joke.
Ben took back his hand. “I guess you don’t talk much, do you, Miss Cesium?”
Fireclay explained, “My mother has never practiced speech. The secretaries at her guild assisted her with spoken communication.”
“Is Cesium a guild master?”
Fireclay confirmed, “My mother leads the Pinion Guild. The largest poultry industry on Deinar.”
“Wow,” was all Ben could say.
The Loroi finally took notice of Io standing by Ben’s side.
“Oh, right,” said Ben. “Fireclay, Cesium, this here is Io. She arrived here just a few days ago.”
“Io? What does that name mean?”
“Io is the name of a moon in the Sol system. Which is also named after an old human mythical female that the Greek God Zeus fell in love with.”
Fireclay quirked her lips. “I have no idea who that is.”
“I know.” He gestured toward Cesium. “Here, um, can I help you with your luggage?”
Cesium handed a case instead to Fireclay and the other to little Io. Io eyed the alien luggage bemusedly.
Fireclay explained, “Mother says, ‘it is not proper for a male to be forced to undertake manual labor. Let my daughter and the little girl help us.’”
Able to deduce what was happening, Io scowled before thrusting the luggage into Ben’s arms. She met Cesium’s gaze, crossing her arms firmly.
Fireclay said, “My mother says, ‘What an obnoxious child.’”
Ben snickered. “Io’s not bad once you get to know her.”
After persuading Cesium to let him carry her luggage, Ben and Io accompanied Fireclay and her mother to the docks. They had been assigned a room on one of the trimarans and would need to commute by boat.
“So Clay,” said Ben as they walked on, “how’s it going at the Soroin academy?”
“Hard,” Fireclay admitted. Ever since completing her diral trials, Fireclay knew she wanted to study to serve aboard a ship. Training for such a position was as competitive as it was difficult. Fireclay’s dream was to be stationed aboard one of the ship’s in the Emperor’s squadron. But the material was a lot to absorb. And Fireclay was falling behind her studies.
“Hey, it’s just the start,” Ben comforted. “If you fail, there will be other options. Other career paths.”
“I appreciate your support, Ben,” said Fireclay. “But I want to serve aboard a ship.”
“But why is it so important to you?”
“To prove that we civilians can be more than the limits our society imposes on us.”
Ben respected that. Growing up he felt something of a kinship with Clay. They were both outsiders in the Deinarid culture, determined to prove wrong the chauvinists of warrior society who labelled them ‘inferior weaklings’.
“Io,” said Fireclay, “tell us where you come from. How did you come to be here?”
Io, picking up the muffle of Fireclay’s voice, didn’t answer.
“Oh, right,” Ben cut in. “Forgot to mention Io is deaf. Or was. I mean she is recovering from deafness. If you want to talk to her, use her-“
“NNYYYYYAAAA!”
The four stopped, drawn to the cry of a Neridi. Ambassador Dermo was fleeing from a mob of young human girls.
“Ei-fa-ma!” Io mumbled, pointing at the little blue man. “Ei-fa-ma!”
Ben squinted at Io. “Huh?”
Io typed onto her phone: Elephant Man.
“Oh,” Ben realized. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Mother asks why the human girls chase the Neridi Ambassador?” Fireclay asked.
Ben grinned. “They’re in love.”
Cesium gave Ben a bewildered look. Fireclay assured her mother he was merely exaggerating.
Dermo ran up to a circle of guests, seeking shelter. It proved useless as the girls ran into the mob of Loroi, all trying to get to Dermo.
“No! No!” Dermo cried, hopping from behind one Loroi for cover to the other. “Go away!”
The girls chanted, “Elephant Man! Elephant Man!”
Ben sighed, passing Cesium’s case to Io. “Time for big brother to intervene. I’ll be right back.”
Ben ran up to the mob, calling for his peers to calm down. “Hey, easy there! Calm down! Who said you could torture the Neridi?”
“We don’t want to torture him,” said Ripley. “We just want to play with him!”
Bean added with a wicked grin, “Especially with his cute head.”
“Knock it off! Leave Dermo alone!” Ben called his peers to order. While not as intimidating as Greywind, Ben commanded a certain level of respect from his younger peers. Slowly they settled down, much to the guests’ and Dermo’s relief.
Cesium sent to her daughter, >Have your human peers always been like this?<
Fireclay shrugged. >Occasionally.<
Cesium could not conceal her astonishment. >What an unusual family you grew up with.<
Fireclay remembered a phrase she learnt from Beverly years ago and sent with a grin, >You ain’t seen nothing yet.<
=== (+) ===
Tempo was summoned to the Shrine. Two Praetorians stood guard to the Shrine’s entrance, admitting only Tempo entry. Therein the Mizol found Greywind kneeling within the grand chamber kneeling before the litter of candles, murals and idols. She cradled a burning candle before a small mob of head-shaven males clad in red, each holding a burning candle between their palms.
Tempo stood a few paces off to the side of the Emperor, watching as the Emperor recited in sync with the human monks, “Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum.”
Tempo waited patiently.
The old Emperor finally acknowledged Tempo’s presence as she finished her recitation, >Do you know what that is, Tempo?<
Tempo guessed, >I could be mistaken, but perhaps a Buddhist chant?<
>Quite so.< Greywind rose to her feet. >Do you know what it means?<
>No, Emperor.<
Greywind returned her burning candle to its spot among a collection of burning sticks. >Each syllable of that particular recitation represents what Buddhist humans call a purification process. Each symbolizing a particular virtue of humanity. By meditating on these virtues, a human may purge themselves of psychological deficiencies.<
Tempo avoided scoffing. >Were it that simple.<
>Indeed, Torimor.<
>Why then do you practice these human rituals, Azerein?<
>Look at these humans,< Greywind pointed at the monks. >By uttering a few spoken words, a wave of tranquility unifies this group of human menfolk. That such a thing is possible even without the influence of sanzai is astonishing. Another interesting fact about prayer is that it most often was believed to be a means of reaching out to a deity. To communicate with supernatural entities.<
>We modern Loroi are wise enough to know that no such thing exists,< sent Tempo. >But you think that practicing human rituals can somehow peel back the human lotai?<
>I don’t know. I don’t believe in religious dogma, Tempo. But I believe in its ability to unify populations. I don’t believe that reciting prayers grants one magical abilities. But I believe that exercising it allows us to understand how an alien thinks. To understand a human perspective. And why they think as they do. I do not believe meditation is the path to reaching a supernatural plane. But it can teach us how to tame our desires and impulses. Listening to this chant, and practicing it, fills me with an odd sense of tranquility. Contentment. That such a thing can be done without sanzai is astonishing.< The monks faded into the ether after Greywind shut down the holographic projector. >At the very least it serves as a good distraction from my present concerns.<
>I assume you are referring to your mother, your highness?<
Greywind confirmed it, >Hard to believe she’s come here.<
>Is that a problem?<
>I don’t know. But she didn’t come all the way from Perrein for a reunion. She wants something.<
>Emperor, I hope it seems not crass of me to say, but do you suppose Rainlash has come for revenge? You did remove her from the Council.<
>Perhaps. Or maybe she just wants to spite me one last time before she dies. Rainlash has always been a master of secrecy.<
>Why let her stay then?<
>Nightgale has always loved our mother the most. Out of all our sisters, she did not receive the full brunt of Rainlash’s disciplinary methods. Nightgale is a true diplomat in the sense that she’s always insisted on making squabbling kin reconcile. Rainlash has always preyed on my youngest sister’s innocence. Tempo, you must be eager to celebrate along with your daughter.<
>I am looking forward to spending some time with Aplomb, yes. But I suspect you are going to ask a favor of me.<
Greywind confirmed, >I need you to monitor Rainlash’s activities while she is here. Make sure she does not go digging for sensitive information. I trust the Diaderets are sensible enough to safeguard our secrets. It would be stupid for Rainlash to try her powers of influence on them, but even so.<
Tempo grinned knowingly. >Once a Mizol always a Mizol.<
>I’ve already warned Twoface, Cotton, the other Listels and Farseer Slipstream to stay clear of Rainlash. But make sure my mother does not go near them. And especially not near Ben.<
>But Rainlash cannot pierce a human lotai.<
>Ben is friendly and trusting to a fault. And Rainlash knows how to get people to talk.<
>You can count on me, your highness.<
The Emperor and her subordinate compartmentalized these thoughts before leaving the Shrine.
-
X - Naughty Aliens
=== (+) ===
23 December 2186 C.E.
Eleventh Day of Deinar’s Fourteenth Nanapi. Standard Year of Unification 1898.
Message for Long Quill. From Ben Teigorastir.
Seasons greetings, Quill. It has been hectic here at West Ginazeigo Isle. More and more guests are arriving to the island day after day. By tomorrow we’ll be celebrating Christmas Eve. It feels good to see many old friends and be meeting new ones.
Speaking of old friends, Rune and Softwood have come back. Though now they go by their warrior names, Moonrune and Ironwood. Weird how just eight years ago they were little girls. It’s good to be reunited after so long.
It kind of sucks that not everyone can be here with us for the celebration. And by ‘suck’ I mean it’s sad. I wish you could be here with us to celebrate. But I guess that’s warrior duty.
Your daughter, Cap, is doing well and has made friends with Ripley. Let’s hope they can stay friends if you know what I mean.
I hope you are safe while training at Upway. Please send me some recordings or at least pictures of the desert. You and all our family who cannot be here are always on my mind.
And no, ‘on my mind’ is not meant to be a mind joke.
Merry Christmas, Long Quill.
Ben did a quick proof-read of his letter. He had been busy writing dozens of letters and sending them out to old friends whom he had grown up with. He didn’t bother composing formal letters. The thirteen-year old felt that writing formal letters seemed impersonal and preferred to write from the heart.
Satisfied and not able to think of anything else to say, Ben tapped a few more buttons on the holo-panel of his intercom. It chimed, indicating that the message was being sent to the nearest buoy which in turn would transmit it to Mezan. For those living outside the Deinarid star system, it would take weeks or months before Ben’s low priority messages reached their intended recipients.
The door slid open.
“Greetings, Ben,” Nedatan Tiret Fertile Spring said with a smile.
Ben jumped at the sudden intrusion. “Stars, Spring! I’d appreciate it if you knocked.”
“Knock on what?”
“Uh, the door.”
“Why?”
“So I know someone wants to come in.”
“Humans seem to have some strange habits.”
Fertile Spring had arrived along with the rest of the Nedatans days ago. He had paid several visits to the island at the start of Greywind’s adoption program. Every visit, the humans and Nedatans had learnt many things from one another’s cultures. While many elders disapproved exposing the Loroi youth to menfolk too soon, Fertile Spring and his brethren certainly left a positive impression on Greywind’s human wards.
“So what seems above?” Spring asked, leaning against Ben’s desk.
Ben cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “Don’t you mean ‘what’s up’?”
“Yes.”
Ben shrugged, shutting down his intercom. “Just writing some messages to friends who couldn’t make it to Christmas. I like them to know I think of them.” He stuffed the intercom into a secure-box under his desk. Unlike the other children, Ben was allowed to have electronic devices since he acted as a part-time guardian. Though he was advised to keep them out of sight so as not to make the other children jealous.
“That seems very kind of you,” Spring complimented.
“How about you? Has chastity killed any of your brothers yet?”
It was Spring’s turn to raise an odd eye. “That’s not exactly how it works, Ben. But your concern is touching. Anyway, no. We have been fortunate enough to receive some visitors. I spent last night with a graduate.”
Ben was briefly shocked. “What?! You mean one of our graduates?!”
“Not a relative! What do you take me for? A Yellow Sun? It was Tempo’s daughter.”
“Oh!” Ben remembered growing up with Aplomb. She was pleasant, though a bit dainty at times. Then again so was Tempo. “Sorry. My bad.”
“No need to worry.”
Knock! Knock!
Someone new was at the door.
“See? At least somebody knows how to knock,” Ben commented. “Come in.” No answer. “Uh, you may enter?”
Knock! Knock!
“I said-” A thought occurred to Ben. Leaving his desk, Ben tapped the door panel. The door slid open.
Io waved with a grin, handing her Robin phone to Ben.
It read: Top of the morning, non-Earthling.
Ben snickered, typing a reply before handing the Robin phone back.
Ben wrote: Good morning, little girl from a moon.
Io wrote: Haven’t seen you all morning.
Ben: Been busy.
Io peeked inside past Ben to see the slightly shorter Loroi. She wrote: Who’s the hobbit?
Ben replied: A very musical one. Name’s Fertile Spring.
Io: Fertile Spring? What weird names the Loroi come up with?
“Ben? Who is your friend?” Spring peeked past the boy’s shoulder.
“Oh, this is a new arrival.” Ben introduced Io and Spring to one another. Spring found it odd that the little girl relied heavily on her electronic device for communication.
Io wrote: How old are you, Spring?
Spring typed back: Forty-seven.
Io was shocked.
Io: But you look so young.
Spring blushed. “What pleasant charmers you young humans are.”
The young girl turned her focus to Ben
Io wrote: Ben, Autumn sent me to get you.
Ben: Human Autumn or Loroi Autumn?
It was Io’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
Io: Human one. She said the last shuttle is coming.
Ben: Great. Hopefully Clay will be on one of those.
Io: Clay? Is that another Loroi friend of yours?
Ben: Yup. Let’s go see.
Handing the phone back to Io, Ben turned to Spring. “We’re going to the landing pad. Want to come with?”
“I can’t,” Spring politely declined. “I have to assist my brethren with counseling today. But we will see each other later for festivities.” He turned to Io one more time and typed on her phone: It was a pleasure meeting you.
Io: Likewise Hobbit man.
The humans left a mildly bewildered Spring. It took the Nedatan a few moments to remember hobbits from the “Lord of the Rings” fictional recording the human inhabitants introduced him to upon his last visit a year and a half ago. How queer to use fictional iconography to associate with people, he thought.
Fertile Spring left the dorms to rejoin his brethren.
Io and Ben walked side by side on their way to the landing pad. All the while they swapped Io’s Robin phone back and forth.
Ben wrote: Io, how’s your hearing?
Io’s answer: Better. I can hear so much more now. But the Asian doctor guy said my ears aren’t completely healed yet.
Ben: You mean Doctor Yuan?
Io: I guess. I’ve heard some amazing sounds. Some alien bugs buzzing around. I finally know what a buzz sounds like. It’s incredible.
Ben: I’m happy for you.
As they exited the corridors and entered the gardens, Io stopped. She sniffled, rubbing her bleary eyes. Her lips quivered as she tried to fight the tears.
“What’s wrong?” Ben asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at him, hearing a muffle of his voice.
Ben wrote on the phone: What’s wrong?
It took Io a few moments to compose herself.
She wrote back: Sorry. I was just thinking about my parents. I wish I could have heard what they sounded like before they died.
Ben could see Io was fighting to keep the tears at bay.
He wrote: I’m sorry Io. I lost my mom too when I was five. It sucks. I know not everyone likes hugs but do you want one?
Io hesitated. Ben’s gentle smile and outstretched arms was all the signal she needed. Wrapping her arms around his ribs, Io sniffled as Ben held her. For several minutes they just stood in each other’s arms. Every now and then a gawker passing by eyed the situation before moving on. Ben didn’t care.
Io took in a deep breathe as she released Ben.
She wrote: Thanks Ben. You’re a good friend.
Ben: I try. Feeling a little better?
Io nodded.
A roar from overhead caught Ben’s attention. The next shuttle was setting down at the landing pad on the other side of the grounds. He motioned for Io to follow. They ran into many Loroi and a few human peers on their way to greet the last wave of arrivals. The grounds were becoming more compact now with all the people that had come for the holiday.
Io wrote on her phone: You want to know something Ben? You’re not what I expected.
Ben: What do you mean?
Io: Well I thought a kid growing up with aliens would be more alien.
Ben snickered, writing: I’m not different from other kids. We’re just raised in the Loroi culture.
Io meant to write something else. But stopped as she took note of a large shadow looming over them. She looked up to see a monstrous head overshadowed by Deinar’s sun.
Io wheezed, “H-h-h-h-huuuuu-”
It was hard to tell what Io was trying to say. But the seven-year old’s shriek was an obvious sign of terror. She jumped behind Ben for cover.
“Woah! What’s the problem?” Ben asked, looking back at a very frightened Io.
Io wheezed, “Ma-ma-ma.” She meant to say ‘monster’, pointing up at the blue giant.
The colossus looked down puzzled at the pair of young humans. “Forgive me, little sister,” said Ambassador Ziga. “I hope I have not frightened you.”
“Greetings, Ziga,” said Ben.
Io froze, shriveling up nervously as her body guard casually walked up to the blue giant to hug him. Ziga bent down to return the gesture.
“It is good to see you again, Ben,” said Ziga, resting a massive four-fingered hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I hope the Loroi have been treating you well.”
“Always.” Ben looked back as Ziga released him. Io just stared wide-eyed, not understanding how a boy could be so casual in the presence of such a giant.
Ben motioned for the phone. It took several waves of Ben’s hand before Io snapped out of her shock and handed it to him.
Ben wrote: You okay?
Io replied: Ben what the hell is that?
Ben: This is Ambassador Ziga. He works with the Emperor. He’s a Barsam. Don’t be scared. He’s really friendly. Come and say hi.
Io swallowed, looking up nervously at the horned giant.
Ben said, “It’s okay, Io. He won’t hurt you. Come on.” Ben gently ushered her forward.
Ziga knelt down, extending a hand as he mimicked humanity’s greeting customs. “Nice to meet you, Io.”
Io regarded Ziga’s four-fingered hand reluctantly. She looked up again, more clearly catching sight of two squinty golden eyes gazing back in a grimace. Yet Io suddenly didn’t feel frightened by Ziga. He didn’t look like a monster. More like a horned, scowling, noseless toad. Io couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. Cautiously and tenderly, Io took hold of what she assumed was Ziga’s index finger and gently shook.
“Wa-oo,” Io whispered amazedly.
After being properly introduced, Ziga stood back to his full height.
“Ziga, I had no idea you came already,” said Ben.
“We arrived late into the night,” said Ziga. “It seemed wise for the Counselors and Ambassadors to arrive when the rest of the creche was sleeping. Cause less commotion.”
“The whole Diadem’s here?”
“Not all. I believe the Emperor made it clear in her invitation that all Counselors were welcome provided they show courtesy and respect to all of the creche’s occupants.”
“So how many Counselors came?”
“About half.”
“So… half the Council hates us then?”
Ziga was silent a moment.
Ben scoffed out a laugh, “Heh. Sorry. Bad joke.” Humor was a foreign concept to most Barsam.
“I see. By the way, have you seen Ambassador Dermo?”
“No, why?”
“Seems to have gone missing. Would you let him know I am looking for him if you happen to find him?”
Ben tapped his chest twice. “Will do”
Ziga excused himself. Io jumped as the ground seemed to tremble with every step the Barsam took.
Io and Ben walked on to the landing pad. Upon Io’s request, Ben explained what he and Ziga talked about.
Io asked via phone: So who’s Dermo?
Ben wrote: Another alien ambassador.
Io: Another Barsam.
Ben: Nope. Dermo is a Neridi.
Io: What’s a Neridi?
Ben: Little blue guys about a meter tall with round eyes, long nose and big floppy ears.
The seven-year old processed this, trying to build an image in her head.
Io: What like an elephant?
Ben: Yeah there you go.
Guards stood on patrol around the landing pad to ensure that no one wandered too close during the frequent landings for the past few days. Ben and Io had to wait outside the perimeter of guards as Crescent checked in the last wave of guests.
In the midst of the crowd admitted entry to the grounds, Ben saw a familiar face with platinum skin and brunette hair. Clay stuck a hand up, waving at Ben. She made her way through the crowd of arrivals. She ran up to Ben, throwing her arms around him.
“Ben,” Clay said with a smile. “It is so good to see you again.”
Ben laughed, hugging her close. “Hey, Clay.”
“It is actually Fireclay now,” she pointed out.
“Well, Fireclay, you got really big.”
“So have you, Ben. Very big actually. But still shorter than me.”
Ben playfully punched her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll outgrow you one day.”
Fireclay looked back, her focus on a Loroi making her way through the crowd, carrying two cases. The older female got some unpleasant looks from some of the warriors around her, but they just distanced themselves. She walked up to Fireclay, heaving as she locked eyes with Fireclay.
Fireclay held up her hands in wordless gesture. Ben could guess they were bickering.
“Uh, friend of yours?” Ben asked.
Fireclay turned her focus back to Ben. “Ben, may I present my mother, Cesium.”
Cesium’s eyes went wide as if having a great realization. Most likely courtesy of her daughter.
Fireclay said, “My mother says she is honored to meet you, Ben. And she is happy you were so kind to me during my upbringing here.”
“Oh, uh, my pleasure, Miss Cesium,” said Ben. He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Cesium regarded the human hand with some confusion. Upon Fireclay’s explanation of human greeting customs, Cesium freed her right hand of luggage. She hesitated, having never touched a human before, but finally took Ben’s hand.
Fireclay said, “My mother is amazed how hot humans are.”
Ben laughed, “Easy there. I’m only thirteen.”
Cesium looked to her daughter. Her cheeks and ears turned deep blue as Fireclay explained the joke.
Ben took back his hand. “I guess you don’t talk much, do you, Miss Cesium?”
Fireclay explained, “My mother has never practiced speech. The secretaries at her guild assisted her with spoken communication.”
“Is Cesium a guild master?”
Fireclay confirmed, “My mother leads the Pinion Guild. The largest poultry industry on Deinar.”
“Wow,” was all Ben could say.
The Loroi finally took notice of Io standing by Ben’s side.
“Oh, right,” said Ben. “Fireclay, Cesium, this here is Io. She arrived here just a few days ago.”
“Io? What does that name mean?”
“Io is the name of a moon in the Sol system. Which is also named after an old human mythical female that the Greek God Zeus fell in love with.”
Fireclay quirked her lips. “I have no idea who that is.”
“I know.” He gestured toward Cesium. “Here, um, can I help you with your luggage?”
Cesium handed a case instead to Fireclay and the other to little Io. Io eyed the alien luggage bemusedly.
Fireclay explained, “Mother says, ‘it is not proper for a male to be forced to undertake manual labor. Let my daughter and the little girl help us.’”
Able to deduce what was happening, Io scowled before thrusting the luggage into Ben’s arms. She met Cesium’s gaze, crossing her arms firmly.
Fireclay said, “My mother says, ‘What an obnoxious child.’”
Ben snickered. “Io’s not bad once you get to know her.”
After persuading Cesium to let him carry her luggage, Ben and Io accompanied Fireclay and her mother to the docks. They had been assigned a room on one of the trimarans and would need to commute by boat.
“So Clay,” said Ben as they walked on, “how’s it going at the Soroin academy?”
“Hard,” Fireclay admitted. Ever since completing her diral trials, Fireclay knew she wanted to study to serve aboard a ship. Training for such a position was as competitive as it was difficult. Fireclay’s dream was to be stationed aboard one of the ship’s in the Emperor’s squadron. But the material was a lot to absorb. And Fireclay was falling behind her studies.
“Hey, it’s just the start,” Ben comforted. “If you fail, there will be other options. Other career paths.”
“I appreciate your support, Ben,” said Fireclay. “But I want to serve aboard a ship.”
“But why is it so important to you?”
“To prove that we civilians can be more than the limits our society imposes on us.”
Ben respected that. Growing up he felt something of a kinship with Clay. They were both outsiders in the Deinarid culture, determined to prove wrong the chauvinists of warrior society who labelled them ‘inferior weaklings’.
“Io,” said Fireclay, “tell us where you come from. How did you come to be here?”
Io, picking up the muffle of Fireclay’s voice, didn’t answer.
“Oh, right,” Ben cut in. “Forgot to mention Io is deaf. Or was. I mean she is recovering from deafness. If you want to talk to her, use her-“
“NNYYYYYAAAA!”
The four stopped, drawn to the cry of a Neridi. Ambassador Dermo was fleeing from a mob of young human girls.
“Ei-fa-ma!” Io mumbled, pointing at the little blue man. “Ei-fa-ma!”
Ben squinted at Io. “Huh?”
Io typed onto her phone: Elephant Man.
“Oh,” Ben realized. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Mother asks why the human girls chase the Neridi Ambassador?” Fireclay asked.
Ben grinned. “They’re in love.”
Cesium gave Ben a bewildered look. Fireclay assured her mother he was merely exaggerating.
Dermo ran up to a circle of guests, seeking shelter. It proved useless as the girls ran into the mob of Loroi, all trying to get to Dermo.
“No! No!” Dermo cried, hopping from behind one Loroi for cover to the other. “Go away!”
The girls chanted, “Elephant Man! Elephant Man!”
Ben sighed, passing Cesium’s case to Io. “Time for big brother to intervene. I’ll be right back.”
Ben ran up to the mob, calling for his peers to calm down. “Hey, easy there! Calm down! Who said you could torture the Neridi?”
“We don’t want to torture him,” said Ripley. “We just want to play with him!”
Bean added with a wicked grin, “Especially with his cute head.”
“Knock it off! Leave Dermo alone!” Ben called his peers to order. While not as intimidating as Greywind, Ben commanded a certain level of respect from his younger peers. Slowly they settled down, much to the guests’ and Dermo’s relief.
Cesium sent to her daughter, >Have your human peers always been like this?<
Fireclay shrugged. >Occasionally.<
Cesium could not conceal her astonishment. >What an unusual family you grew up with.<
Fireclay remembered a phrase she learnt from Beverly years ago and sent with a grin, >You ain’t seen nothing yet.<
=== (+) ===
Tempo was summoned to the Shrine. Two Praetorians stood guard to the Shrine’s entrance, admitting only Tempo entry. Therein the Mizol found Greywind kneeling within the grand chamber kneeling before the litter of candles, murals and idols. She cradled a burning candle before a small mob of head-shaven males clad in red, each holding a burning candle between their palms.
Tempo stood a few paces off to the side of the Emperor, watching as the Emperor recited in sync with the human monks, “Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme hum.”
Tempo waited patiently.
The old Emperor finally acknowledged Tempo’s presence as she finished her recitation, >Do you know what that is, Tempo?<
Tempo guessed, >I could be mistaken, but perhaps a Buddhist chant?<
>Quite so.< Greywind rose to her feet. >Do you know what it means?<
>No, Emperor.<
Greywind returned her burning candle to its spot among a collection of burning sticks. >Each syllable of that particular recitation represents what Buddhist humans call a purification process. Each symbolizing a particular virtue of humanity. By meditating on these virtues, a human may purge themselves of psychological deficiencies.<
Tempo avoided scoffing. >Were it that simple.<
>Indeed, Torimor.<
>Why then do you practice these human rituals, Azerein?<
>Look at these humans,< Greywind pointed at the monks. >By uttering a few spoken words, a wave of tranquility unifies this group of human menfolk. That such a thing is possible even without the influence of sanzai is astonishing. Another interesting fact about prayer is that it most often was believed to be a means of reaching out to a deity. To communicate with supernatural entities.<
>We modern Loroi are wise enough to know that no such thing exists,< sent Tempo. >But you think that practicing human rituals can somehow peel back the human lotai?<
>I don’t know. I don’t believe in religious dogma, Tempo. But I believe in its ability to unify populations. I don’t believe that reciting prayers grants one magical abilities. But I believe that exercising it allows us to understand how an alien thinks. To understand a human perspective. And why they think as they do. I do not believe meditation is the path to reaching a supernatural plane. But it can teach us how to tame our desires and impulses. Listening to this chant, and practicing it, fills me with an odd sense of tranquility. Contentment. That such a thing can be done without sanzai is astonishing.< The monks faded into the ether after Greywind shut down the holographic projector. >At the very least it serves as a good distraction from my present concerns.<
>I assume you are referring to your mother, your highness?<
Greywind confirmed it, >Hard to believe she’s come here.<
>Is that a problem?<
>I don’t know. But she didn’t come all the way from Perrein for a reunion. She wants something.<
>Emperor, I hope it seems not crass of me to say, but do you suppose Rainlash has come for revenge? You did remove her from the Council.<
>Perhaps. Or maybe she just wants to spite me one last time before she dies. Rainlash has always been a master of secrecy.<
>Why let her stay then?<
>Nightgale has always loved our mother the most. Out of all our sisters, she did not receive the full brunt of Rainlash’s disciplinary methods. Nightgale is a true diplomat in the sense that she’s always insisted on making squabbling kin reconcile. Rainlash has always preyed on my youngest sister’s innocence. Tempo, you must be eager to celebrate along with your daughter.<
>I am looking forward to spending some time with Aplomb, yes. But I suspect you are going to ask a favor of me.<
Greywind confirmed, >I need you to monitor Rainlash’s activities while she is here. Make sure she does not go digging for sensitive information. I trust the Diaderets are sensible enough to safeguard our secrets. It would be stupid for Rainlash to try her powers of influence on them, but even so.<
Tempo grinned knowingly. >Once a Mizol always a Mizol.<
>I’ve already warned Twoface, Cotton, the other Listels and Farseer Slipstream to stay clear of Rainlash. But make sure my mother does not go near them. And especially not near Ben.<
>But Rainlash cannot pierce a human lotai.<
>Ben is friendly and trusting to a fault. And Rainlash knows how to get people to talk.<
>You can count on me, your highness.<
The Emperor and her subordinate compartmentalized these thoughts before leaving the Shrine.
Last edited by Snoofman on Tue Apr 02, 2024 6:58 am, edited 2 times in total.
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wolf329
- Posts: 218
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- Location: (NSFW) https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/3294452
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Re: A Chorus of Stars
The poor Neridi always seem to get the short end of the stick with humans... 
#1 Tempo simp
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
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wolf329
- Posts: 218
- Joined: Thu May 13, 2021 4:39 pm
- Location: (NSFW) https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/3294452
- Contact:
Re: A Chorus of Stars
To me they have some resemblance to Watto from The Phantom Menace.
Which had come out a little over two years before the comic started by the way, in case you haven't felt old today.
Which had come out a little over two years before the comic started by the way, in case you haven't felt old today.
#1 Tempo simp
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Re: A Chorus of Stars
XI - Decking the Halls
=== (+) ===
It was late morning on Christmas Eve.
In truth Listel Sazset Cotton would have preferred to research the Emperor’s latest vision. Scrutinize where their test went wrong. But it seemed too risky for the moment. A person from Greywind’s past had arrived. Someone the Emperor did not want digging for information. Which is why Greywind commanded the Listels to cease their research momentarily and suppress all thought of the project. The Listels instead distracted themselves with labor and were instructed, in the event Rainlash tried to make conversation with them, to excuse themselves and carry on with their chores. Hopefully it would not seem too odd since some Loroi did not think fondly of Rainlash. Fortunately Rainlash was focused on wandering the creche grounds, making conversation with those that did not seem to mind her presence. Surprisingly she mingled with the humans. The children were spellbound by her telekinetic tricks.
Cotton didn’t know much about Rainlash except that she was a former Diaderet. Expelled from the Council and stripped of her authority following the failed coup against Greywind. She had heard from rumors that there had always existed a tense relationship between the two seniors. But never explored the matter. It was none of her business.
Cotton was in the middle of helping the staff bring out refreshments to the plaza. And happened to cross Rainlash’s path on her way there.
Cotton kept her most precious knowledge concealed, but poorly hid her nervousness as Rainlash approached her.
>Hello,< Rainlash sent politely. >You must be Listel Sazset Cotton.<
>I am,< sent Cotton. >If you’ll please, I must get these to the plaza.< She made to walk by.
>I have heard of you,< Rainlash sent matter-of-factly, standing in Cotton’s way. >Rumor has it that you served aboard Cry of the Wind before being reassigned here.<
Just what did Rainlash want? Cotton knew it best to keep her answers short. The less she omitted, the better. >I was.<
>To care for these human children I presume.< Rainlash’s essence was eerily calm, like a storm muted behind a pane of glass.
>Yes. And I take great pride in my work,< Cotton admitted. She walked around Rainlash, meaning to walk away.
Rainlash surprised her as she walked alongside Cotton. >No doubt. As I understand it, you formerly served aboard Cry of the Wind before being reassigned here. Were you not?<
>You seem well informed,< Cotton failed to conceal her frustration. She did not rush for fear it would seem suspicious.
>Many in this creche have shared enlightening stories,< Rainlash admitted. >Quite intriguing. They also say that you met one of the Emperor’s first adoptees while serving aboard the Imperial Capital.<
>Correct.<
>Ben Teigorastir I presume.<
That seemed an awfully specific inquiry to Cotton. She kept her knowledge of Ben’s secret buried as she sent, >He was an orphan rescued from gangers.<
>I hear you were assigned as his first caregiver.<
Cotton could not help but get defensive as she sent, >It has been an honor and a pleasure taking care of that boy.<
>No doubt,< Rainlash sent. Her smile eased into a straight line. >If I had to guess, you seem to be about forty tozons old.<
>Thirty-eight tozons actually.<
>So young. I cannot imagine what you must have accomplished during the Great War to be promoted from a common Listel to a Sazset so quickly.<
>I never saw combat,< Cotton admitted. Her arms were starting to ache from holding the tray for so long. >I finished my trials just at the end of the war.<
>I see. Well, it was not uncommon for young Listel graduates to be thrust into high-ranking positions without prior military experience. The war left many empty seats to be filled.<
Cotton could see violet patches of curiosity broiling beneath Rainlash’s dark veil. She wasn’t sure she could bear this conversation any longer.
>Cotton!< Tempo approached. >The others are waiting for you to bring refreshments to the plaza. Hurry along!<
Cotton sent frustratedly, >I must leave you, Detair! This tray is getting heavy!<
Rainlash’s smile returned as she sent pleasantly, >Of course. I shall not keep you from your work.< Rainlash walked away from Cotton.
Cotton exhaled with relief as Tempo walked alongside her to the plaza.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” said Cotton, not comfortable with sending until Rainlash was out of range.
“You should have excused yourself,” Tempo urged her.
“She kept wanting to talk. Refusing to answer would have seemed rude.”
“Be rude then. I’ll keep her distracted, but you must not speak with her.”
“Understood.”
Cotton continued with her tray of pastries to the plaza. She remembered when the first of the human adults arrived at the creche seven years ago. They had introduced a number of weird yet fascinating aspects of Terran culture. Including their holiday celebrations.
Christmas was well received among the Loroi. Cotton was amazed how much homage and effort humans invested in this single holiday. She had spent practically the whole day yesterday helping the staff arrange tables within the mansion and throughout the gardens. The staff hoped to encourage guests to spread out and avoid congregating in one location. Children were somewhat helpful, though could be easily distracted from their work.
Within the plaza itself, a nagen was erected as substitute for a Christmas tree. Children helped adults hang colorful ornaments and electric lights around the evergreen. A bit of human music playing from a nearby device kept the human and Loroi children motivated.
A few sang in sync, “Rockin’ around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop!” Their singing and dancing amidst their work drew quite a few spectators. Qi and Idaho abandoned their work to impress the beautiful Loroi warriors with their moves.
The boys sang as they attempted unsynchronized step-dancing, “Mistletoe hung where you can see every couple tries to stop!”
Some of the adults laughed, flattered by the boys’ obvious flirtations. The humans might have been shocked if they felt the lustful flames of some of the adult Loroi. Fortunately the assembled Loroi were sensible enough not to make any advances on young human boys. Besides, the Nedatans served enough distraction.
“Boys,” Calista called out to Idaho and Qi. “We still got some work to do. You can play around later.”
Another human caregiver employed at the creche, Calista was originally from Esperanza. Though a bit strict and domineering, the males of the creche often pardoned her attitude. She was the most beautiful of the human women inhabiting the creche with sculpted features, pointed chin, small nose and dark brown hair. Her most outstanding feature was of course her bosom. Many of the Loroi could not help but ask her about their unusual size, much to her embarrassment. She even caught the attention of the visiting Nedatans, whose Detairs reminded them not to stare.
“The napkins are finished, Miss Calista,” Fertile Spring said with a smile. He was most eager to help with preparing for the upcoming festivities.
“Very kind of you, Tiret,” said Castila, brushing her loose hair behind her ear with a finger.
“Please, I prefer you call me Spring.”
“Thanks, Spring.” Even after working at the creche for seven years, Castila still found it weird that Loroi men looked like little boys. Even the eldest Nedatan, Sage Glory, had adolescent features sullied only by a few aging wrinkles. Knowing that these Loroi males needed to breed on a regular basis just to stay sane could be unnerving. But Fertile Spring glowed with kindness, carrying himself with the demeanor of a true gentleman.
“Spring, can you help me bring the plates from the kitchen?” Castila asked.
Spring offered a toothy grin. “I would be delighted.”
“Aw, Castila,” Patrix jumped in between them. “Don’t overwork the little wain. He’s not built for heavy lifting.”
“Yes I am,” Spring defended.
“Why don’t you both go get them?” Castila suggested.
“An excellent suggestion.” Patrix headed for the kitchen at a brisk pace. Spring tried to hide his wheezing, struggling to keep pace with the bigger male.
“A friendly warning, little boy,” Patrix muttered down to Fertile Spring. “Esperanzan women are not into blue hobbits.”
“Perhaps,” Fertile Spring said, struggling to keep up. “But I hear human females are more drawn to males with… melodious talents.”
Patrix offered an icy grin. “Hands off, little fella’. I saw her first.”
“Consider yourself challenged.”
Cotton, who happened to see Spring bubbling with competitive excitement, understood what the human caregivers meant by, “boys will be boys.” She headed for the desert table where a few servants chased away children trying to steal the sweets.
Soma happened to sneak away a pastry, his fingers covered in whipped cream. A few Loroi girls grimaced disgustedly, some at Soma’s lack of manners. Some by the dairy he consumed. A wicked grin etched on his face as he snuck up to Katniss who was helping a servant arrange trays of delicacies on one of the tables and smeared frosting on her ear.
“Ew!” Katniss screeched, chasing after Soma. “You jerk!”
“Kids! Kids!” Castila urged them to stop as Katniss chased after Soma for some payback.
Soma laughed hysterically as he rounded the table, failing to see Cotton. He ran into her, shoving the tray of treats against her person.
Some of the kids laughed at the comical accident. A few adults snickered shamefully.
“Soma!” Castila yelled, marching over to hold him by the shoulder. “That was not nice! Look at this mess!”
Cotton sighed. She wasn’t disappointed in the mess sandwiched between her torso and the tray in as much as she considered it a terrible waste of food. She didn’t even bother to catch the smudged whipped cream, marmalade and dough cluttering to the floor as she placed the tray down.
Castila called, “Katniss, come here! You and Soma! Tell Cotton you’re sorry right now! Go no!”
The two children lowered their heads shamefully and apologized in unison.
“I accept your apology,” Cotton muttered. “If you’ll excuse me, I must clean myself.”
“You go ahead,” said Castila, turning angrily toward the children. “You two help clean up!”
“Me?!” Katniss protested. “He started it!”
“You chased him around the table and are just as responsible! Now get to it!”
Idaho ran up to Cotton before she left. “Hey, Sazset,” he said, handing her a tiny, mechanical ball. “Can you give this to Moonrune?”
“Why?” Cotton asked.
“I feel bad that Moonrune got in trouble,” said Idaho. “Now she’s stuck in the kitchen and going to miss out on the party.”
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you allowed her to kiss you.”
“Look, just give it to her. To cheer her up. Please?”
Cotton sighed. “Very well. But no more mischief.” She stuffed the ball into her leg pouch.
At the kitchen Cotton washed off the mess from her shirt, relaying the loss of Andre’s delicious pastries.
“Terrible perte!” Andre despaired. “Naughty children! But not to worry. We have some frozen pastries.”
Cotton excused herself, “While they’re thawing, I need to change my clothing.”
“Well hurry,” Andre said with a huff, heading to the freezer. “Many mouths to feed soon.”
Before leaving for her room, Cotton stopped by the dishwashing station.
>Greetings, Paset Moonrune,< sent Cotton to the dishwasher. >You seem to be working hard.<
>It never ends,< Moonrune groaned. She wiped her brow from the sweat and humidity. She had been confined to kitchen duties as part of her punishment and prohibited from partaking in the festivities. >This punishment is a complete joykill. I’ve been stuck washing dishes for days. On top of that I got to help the cooks with their tedious chores. Missing out on the party.<
>Well maybe you wouldn’t be here if you’d realized that little human boys do not make suitable breeding partners.<
“Oooooh, cancer boat,” muttered Moonrune, leaning against the washing machine. >Is there a point to your visit, Sazset? Or did you come to harass me? I've been getting that a lot lately.<
>I came with a gift.< Cotton took out the mechanical ball from her pouch. >From Idaho, who expresses his regrets for your punishment.<
Moonrune’s mood lightened as she accepted the gift. She tossed the toy against the wall. It bounced off, unfolding into a quadrupedal contraption before she caught it.
Moonrune smiled nostalgically as she looked over the toy. >A battle brawler! I remember the humans introducing these Terran toys when we were growing up together here. Weird gadgets. But still fun. That is so sweet of Idaho. Give him my thanks. And let him know I am still fond of him.<
Cotton happened to receive a lubricious undertone layered in Moonrune’s happy sending. As well as a memory Moonrune failed to conceal of a particular young male’s warm face cupped in her hands as she tasted his-
>You can keep those lewd thoughts to yourself,< Cotton snarled. Moonrune still lacked in mental discipline. >I will be sure to relay your gratitude, Paset. And nothing more! Might I suggest you get your head examined when your punishment is over.<
Moonrune reveled shamelessly in the memory. >As if you’ve never thought of Ben.<
“R-ridiculous,” Cotton exasperated, keeping her inner feelings shielded, leaving a mildly entertained Moonrune behind. The young Paset kept casting the toy against the wall while she worked.
Cotton left for her room to switch out of her dirty outfit. Life on the island meant she did not always have to be in uniform. Quite relaxing after serving most of her life aboard starships.
The Listel was still mildly disturbed by Moonrune’s salacious suggestion. After all Ben was a child. And Union law clearly forbade human copulation until the human recipient turned sixteen years. If Cotton felt a desire to breed, there were plenty of suitable Loroi menfolk. Of course Cotton had not exploited her rank’s privileges for the sake of Project First Son. While her mental defenses were good, she was reluctant to try their luck on a mating encounter, where physical contact amplified vulnerability. Fortunately she already had a daughter living on Seren partaking in reconstruction efforts. So mating was not a priority.
Besides, coupling with a human seemed taboo in and of itself. Not that Cotton found Ben repulsive. He was empathic, intelligent, strong and caring. Quite a handsome specimen. Had he been born Loroi he would have made many females happy by passing on his blessed qualities. The Listel didn’t need sanzai to recognize Ben’s expression when she happened to catch him staring at her. Ben bashfully tried to hide this fact. Humans often suffered from an inherent shame when it came to sexual matters. Not that Cotton minded. It was flattering. Of course if Ben were interested in copulation, she couldn’t possibly entertain the idea. Not now at least. But when he was of legal consenting age-
Honor and shame clashed with her lustful pondering. Cotton tried to distract herself from these illicit thoughts. She chose to reflect on her team’s latest test as well as Greywind’s recent vision as she finished changing into a set of clean clothes.
While Cotton regarded these so-called visions skeptically, she had to admit that they bore some remarkable resemblance to humanity’s histories. But that was not enough to classify them as ancestral visions. They could just as easily been imaginative reconstructions built from what humans had learnt in their current lifetimes.
But Cotton was willing to give the Emperor’s visions the benefit of the doubt if there was a chance that it could aid the project’s progress. The human female painted in blue, the one from Greywind’s dream, reminded Cotton of a particular ancient culture she happened upon during one of Wolfgang’s history lessons. An ancient Celtic tribe called the Picts, who once inhabited Earth’s Isle of Britain. By coincidence the Picts were reputed to dye their bodies in blue.
She also recalled one of Sister Judith’s lessons regarding the history of European pagan idols. Of an ancient deity whose name happened to match the last few syllables Greywind recorded.
Belenus.
That’s when she had a thought.
Cotton left her room and rushed to the library. Looking up Indo-European languages spoken in ancient Europe, she activated a Gaelic lexicon. Gaelic was an old Celtic language, not very well known among humans. Perhaps Sister Judith, who was an expert on languages, was not even aware of it. But Cotton knew of its existence at the very least. The Picts also were believed to speak Gaelic at one point in their history. If the recitation Greywind recorded was accurate, perhaps it was a clue. It seemed too fantastic to be true, but after all Cotton had experienced, she was willing to take a leap of faith.
Cotton guessed the words that seemed to best represent each syllable of Greywind’s recitation, rearranging letters until she constructed a sentence that seemed to most sensible.
“Tha an saoghal dùisg a’ mealladh. Ann an aislingean lorg sinn fìrinn. Cluinn mo ghairm, nigheanan Belenus.”
If the translation could be trusted and if it was Gaelic, the recitation meant, “The waking world is a deception. In dreams we find truth. Hear my call, daughters of Belenus.”
Cotton pressed a thoughtful finger to her chin. She recalled Sister Judith’s lectures regarding Earth mythologies and lost cultures. Ancient Greeks believed that dreams were messages from their deities. Chinese and Native American cultures thought that dreams were a means of communication with the spirit world. Cotton did not believe in supernatural fables. But what if the ancient humans, or at least a few of them, might have mistaken contact with ancient Loroi for their own gods? Humans had plenty of myths bearing remarkable resemblance to Loroi.
Hindus worshipped deities with blue skin. Celts had legends of fairies coming to entice human children. Some pagan idols were associated with the stars, including Sol. Hence why Belenus caught Cotton’s interest.
A Celtic deity worshipped in ancient Gaul and Britain on old Earth, Belenus was said to be a fire god with powers of healing and prophecy. He also represented the sun. And while it was uncertain if Belenus was worshipped by the Picts, the Picts were still a confederation of Celtic tribes. Was it unreasonable to entertain the possibility that the Picts worshipped Belenus as well?
What fascinated Cotton about this particular Celtic idol was his affiliation with fire and the sun. Some Loroi warriors from the Chaos Legends were reputed to be the embodiment of fire. An Unsheathed’s essence glowed like a hot flame, burning like a bright sun. Before the witch-hunts for Unsheathed began on Deinar, Unsheathed were once thought by some primitive tribes to bear the mark of divinity.
Most likely Belenus was just a fabricated myth. But what if he did exist once? Though not quite the way humans interpreted. What if Belenus was a Loroi mistaken for a human god? What if many other human deities and mythical creatures were in fact inspired by contact with Loroi? Or any sapient alien for that matter?
Cotton wrestled with the idea of ancient humans possessing sanzai. She still reasoned that humans were not true telepaths by nature. So why then did they have so many myths that resembled the Loroi’s ancient stories? If not mere coincidence, could Loroi have inspired at least some human fables? The depleted mining holes and excavated plateaus of the Great Wasteland’s worlds suggested that the Soia’s empire stretched coreward into the Local Bubble. But never as far as the Sol system. Even human scholars acknowledged there was no proof of aliens ever visiting Earth. Only incredulous hypotheses presented by conspiracy theorists, desperate book publishers and cults interested in capitalizing on the idea.
Even if the Loroi had never physically been to Earth, who was to say that they didn’t see it? While humans possessed a lotai, Earth’s other sentient lifeforms did not. Cotton deduced that if the human lotai had always been a part of human evolution, then maybe ancient farseers from before the Collapse detected humanity. Not directly but through the senses of other sentient animals. The only problem with such an idea was that modern farseers did not have such mental precision even with amplification devices. But what if their Soia predecessors did?
On the other hand the ancient Loroi might have once been able to contact humanity directly. Who was to say the human lotai had always existed? If the Umiak could suddenly conceal themselves with captive farseers subjected to crude instrumentality, perhaps the human lotai was an artificial construct as well. Maybe the skill had been engrained into humanity’s subconscious or unconscious minds. But who or what could have the mental power to edit humanity’s cognitive functions? Something with more psychic sophistication than even the Loroi maybe.
The thought disturbed Cotton. Uncomfortable with the prospects of a superior telepathic force, she let it alone. Regardless of whether or not humans were true telepaths, ancient farseers detecting humanity was feasible. They could not possibly have done so technologically however. Humanity’s most advanced instruments at the time was probably using sticks to make fire and splintered rocks for spearheads. Never mind the stitched animal hides they wore for clothing. Their doctors were herbalists relying on nearby resources to cure ailments, not always successfully. Their librarians were storytellers verbally passing down their histories from one generation to the next because they had not yet conceived reading and writing.
The only conceivable method of contact would be through humanity’s subconscious, but how then could they communicate with Loroi farseers on a span of lightyears? Humanity’s farseer equivalents were tribal shamans whose claims of speaking to mystical spirits could have just as easily been lies or insanity. When their tribes were faced with disasters beyond their control, they cried to idols carved in wood and stone, hoping for a miracle. And when that didn’t work, they prayed to the heavens.
The Listel suddenly had a profound realization.
The idea seemed laughable in the face of science. But if it worked.
She’d never know unless she convinced Greywind and Ben to try it. She wanted to try it now.
Cotton suppressed her eagerness. Testing was not possible for the moment and would have to wait. Realizing just how much time she spent in the library and knowing how much Andre was going to rant about her long absence, Cotton rushed back to the kitchen.
=== (+) ===
It was late morning on Christmas Eve.
In truth Listel Sazset Cotton would have preferred to research the Emperor’s latest vision. Scrutinize where their test went wrong. But it seemed too risky for the moment. A person from Greywind’s past had arrived. Someone the Emperor did not want digging for information. Which is why Greywind commanded the Listels to cease their research momentarily and suppress all thought of the project. The Listels instead distracted themselves with labor and were instructed, in the event Rainlash tried to make conversation with them, to excuse themselves and carry on with their chores. Hopefully it would not seem too odd since some Loroi did not think fondly of Rainlash. Fortunately Rainlash was focused on wandering the creche grounds, making conversation with those that did not seem to mind her presence. Surprisingly she mingled with the humans. The children were spellbound by her telekinetic tricks.
Cotton didn’t know much about Rainlash except that she was a former Diaderet. Expelled from the Council and stripped of her authority following the failed coup against Greywind. She had heard from rumors that there had always existed a tense relationship between the two seniors. But never explored the matter. It was none of her business.
Cotton was in the middle of helping the staff bring out refreshments to the plaza. And happened to cross Rainlash’s path on her way there.
Cotton kept her most precious knowledge concealed, but poorly hid her nervousness as Rainlash approached her.
>Hello,< Rainlash sent politely. >You must be Listel Sazset Cotton.<
>I am,< sent Cotton. >If you’ll please, I must get these to the plaza.< She made to walk by.
>I have heard of you,< Rainlash sent matter-of-factly, standing in Cotton’s way. >Rumor has it that you served aboard Cry of the Wind before being reassigned here.<
Just what did Rainlash want? Cotton knew it best to keep her answers short. The less she omitted, the better. >I was.<
>To care for these human children I presume.< Rainlash’s essence was eerily calm, like a storm muted behind a pane of glass.
>Yes. And I take great pride in my work,< Cotton admitted. She walked around Rainlash, meaning to walk away.
Rainlash surprised her as she walked alongside Cotton. >No doubt. As I understand it, you formerly served aboard Cry of the Wind before being reassigned here. Were you not?<
>You seem well informed,< Cotton failed to conceal her frustration. She did not rush for fear it would seem suspicious.
>Many in this creche have shared enlightening stories,< Rainlash admitted. >Quite intriguing. They also say that you met one of the Emperor’s first adoptees while serving aboard the Imperial Capital.<
>Correct.<
>Ben Teigorastir I presume.<
That seemed an awfully specific inquiry to Cotton. She kept her knowledge of Ben’s secret buried as she sent, >He was an orphan rescued from gangers.<
>I hear you were assigned as his first caregiver.<
Cotton could not help but get defensive as she sent, >It has been an honor and a pleasure taking care of that boy.<
>No doubt,< Rainlash sent. Her smile eased into a straight line. >If I had to guess, you seem to be about forty tozons old.<
>Thirty-eight tozons actually.<
>So young. I cannot imagine what you must have accomplished during the Great War to be promoted from a common Listel to a Sazset so quickly.<
>I never saw combat,< Cotton admitted. Her arms were starting to ache from holding the tray for so long. >I finished my trials just at the end of the war.<
>I see. Well, it was not uncommon for young Listel graduates to be thrust into high-ranking positions without prior military experience. The war left many empty seats to be filled.<
Cotton could see violet patches of curiosity broiling beneath Rainlash’s dark veil. She wasn’t sure she could bear this conversation any longer.
>Cotton!< Tempo approached. >The others are waiting for you to bring refreshments to the plaza. Hurry along!<
Cotton sent frustratedly, >I must leave you, Detair! This tray is getting heavy!<
Rainlash’s smile returned as she sent pleasantly, >Of course. I shall not keep you from your work.< Rainlash walked away from Cotton.
Cotton exhaled with relief as Tempo walked alongside her to the plaza.
“Thank you for rescuing me,” said Cotton, not comfortable with sending until Rainlash was out of range.
“You should have excused yourself,” Tempo urged her.
“She kept wanting to talk. Refusing to answer would have seemed rude.”
“Be rude then. I’ll keep her distracted, but you must not speak with her.”
“Understood.”
Cotton continued with her tray of pastries to the plaza. She remembered when the first of the human adults arrived at the creche seven years ago. They had introduced a number of weird yet fascinating aspects of Terran culture. Including their holiday celebrations.
Christmas was well received among the Loroi. Cotton was amazed how much homage and effort humans invested in this single holiday. She had spent practically the whole day yesterday helping the staff arrange tables within the mansion and throughout the gardens. The staff hoped to encourage guests to spread out and avoid congregating in one location. Children were somewhat helpful, though could be easily distracted from their work.
Within the plaza itself, a nagen was erected as substitute for a Christmas tree. Children helped adults hang colorful ornaments and electric lights around the evergreen. A bit of human music playing from a nearby device kept the human and Loroi children motivated.
A few sang in sync, “Rockin’ around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop!” Their singing and dancing amidst their work drew quite a few spectators. Qi and Idaho abandoned their work to impress the beautiful Loroi warriors with their moves.
The boys sang as they attempted unsynchronized step-dancing, “Mistletoe hung where you can see every couple tries to stop!”
Some of the adults laughed, flattered by the boys’ obvious flirtations. The humans might have been shocked if they felt the lustful flames of some of the adult Loroi. Fortunately the assembled Loroi were sensible enough not to make any advances on young human boys. Besides, the Nedatans served enough distraction.
“Boys,” Calista called out to Idaho and Qi. “We still got some work to do. You can play around later.”
Another human caregiver employed at the creche, Calista was originally from Esperanza. Though a bit strict and domineering, the males of the creche often pardoned her attitude. She was the most beautiful of the human women inhabiting the creche with sculpted features, pointed chin, small nose and dark brown hair. Her most outstanding feature was of course her bosom. Many of the Loroi could not help but ask her about their unusual size, much to her embarrassment. She even caught the attention of the visiting Nedatans, whose Detairs reminded them not to stare.
“The napkins are finished, Miss Calista,” Fertile Spring said with a smile. He was most eager to help with preparing for the upcoming festivities.
“Very kind of you, Tiret,” said Castila, brushing her loose hair behind her ear with a finger.
“Please, I prefer you call me Spring.”
“Thanks, Spring.” Even after working at the creche for seven years, Castila still found it weird that Loroi men looked like little boys. Even the eldest Nedatan, Sage Glory, had adolescent features sullied only by a few aging wrinkles. Knowing that these Loroi males needed to breed on a regular basis just to stay sane could be unnerving. But Fertile Spring glowed with kindness, carrying himself with the demeanor of a true gentleman.
“Spring, can you help me bring the plates from the kitchen?” Castila asked.
Spring offered a toothy grin. “I would be delighted.”
“Aw, Castila,” Patrix jumped in between them. “Don’t overwork the little wain. He’s not built for heavy lifting.”
“Yes I am,” Spring defended.
“Why don’t you both go get them?” Castila suggested.
“An excellent suggestion.” Patrix headed for the kitchen at a brisk pace. Spring tried to hide his wheezing, struggling to keep pace with the bigger male.
“A friendly warning, little boy,” Patrix muttered down to Fertile Spring. “Esperanzan women are not into blue hobbits.”
“Perhaps,” Fertile Spring said, struggling to keep up. “But I hear human females are more drawn to males with… melodious talents.”
Patrix offered an icy grin. “Hands off, little fella’. I saw her first.”
“Consider yourself challenged.”
Cotton, who happened to see Spring bubbling with competitive excitement, understood what the human caregivers meant by, “boys will be boys.” She headed for the desert table where a few servants chased away children trying to steal the sweets.
Soma happened to sneak away a pastry, his fingers covered in whipped cream. A few Loroi girls grimaced disgustedly, some at Soma’s lack of manners. Some by the dairy he consumed. A wicked grin etched on his face as he snuck up to Katniss who was helping a servant arrange trays of delicacies on one of the tables and smeared frosting on her ear.
“Ew!” Katniss screeched, chasing after Soma. “You jerk!”
“Kids! Kids!” Castila urged them to stop as Katniss chased after Soma for some payback.
Soma laughed hysterically as he rounded the table, failing to see Cotton. He ran into her, shoving the tray of treats against her person.
Some of the kids laughed at the comical accident. A few adults snickered shamefully.
“Soma!” Castila yelled, marching over to hold him by the shoulder. “That was not nice! Look at this mess!”
Cotton sighed. She wasn’t disappointed in the mess sandwiched between her torso and the tray in as much as she considered it a terrible waste of food. She didn’t even bother to catch the smudged whipped cream, marmalade and dough cluttering to the floor as she placed the tray down.
Castila called, “Katniss, come here! You and Soma! Tell Cotton you’re sorry right now! Go no!”
The two children lowered their heads shamefully and apologized in unison.
“I accept your apology,” Cotton muttered. “If you’ll excuse me, I must clean myself.”
“You go ahead,” said Castila, turning angrily toward the children. “You two help clean up!”
“Me?!” Katniss protested. “He started it!”
“You chased him around the table and are just as responsible! Now get to it!”
Idaho ran up to Cotton before she left. “Hey, Sazset,” he said, handing her a tiny, mechanical ball. “Can you give this to Moonrune?”
“Why?” Cotton asked.
“I feel bad that Moonrune got in trouble,” said Idaho. “Now she’s stuck in the kitchen and going to miss out on the party.”
“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you allowed her to kiss you.”
“Look, just give it to her. To cheer her up. Please?”
Cotton sighed. “Very well. But no more mischief.” She stuffed the ball into her leg pouch.
At the kitchen Cotton washed off the mess from her shirt, relaying the loss of Andre’s delicious pastries.
“Terrible perte!” Andre despaired. “Naughty children! But not to worry. We have some frozen pastries.”
Cotton excused herself, “While they’re thawing, I need to change my clothing.”
“Well hurry,” Andre said with a huff, heading to the freezer. “Many mouths to feed soon.”
Before leaving for her room, Cotton stopped by the dishwashing station.
>Greetings, Paset Moonrune,< sent Cotton to the dishwasher. >You seem to be working hard.<
>It never ends,< Moonrune groaned. She wiped her brow from the sweat and humidity. She had been confined to kitchen duties as part of her punishment and prohibited from partaking in the festivities. >This punishment is a complete joykill. I’ve been stuck washing dishes for days. On top of that I got to help the cooks with their tedious chores. Missing out on the party.<
>Well maybe you wouldn’t be here if you’d realized that little human boys do not make suitable breeding partners.<
“Oooooh, cancer boat,” muttered Moonrune, leaning against the washing machine. >Is there a point to your visit, Sazset? Or did you come to harass me? I've been getting that a lot lately.<
>I came with a gift.< Cotton took out the mechanical ball from her pouch. >From Idaho, who expresses his regrets for your punishment.<
Moonrune’s mood lightened as she accepted the gift. She tossed the toy against the wall. It bounced off, unfolding into a quadrupedal contraption before she caught it.
Moonrune smiled nostalgically as she looked over the toy. >A battle brawler! I remember the humans introducing these Terran toys when we were growing up together here. Weird gadgets. But still fun. That is so sweet of Idaho. Give him my thanks. And let him know I am still fond of him.<
Cotton happened to receive a lubricious undertone layered in Moonrune’s happy sending. As well as a memory Moonrune failed to conceal of a particular young male’s warm face cupped in her hands as she tasted his-
>You can keep those lewd thoughts to yourself,< Cotton snarled. Moonrune still lacked in mental discipline. >I will be sure to relay your gratitude, Paset. And nothing more! Might I suggest you get your head examined when your punishment is over.<
Moonrune reveled shamelessly in the memory. >As if you’ve never thought of Ben.<
“R-ridiculous,” Cotton exasperated, keeping her inner feelings shielded, leaving a mildly entertained Moonrune behind. The young Paset kept casting the toy against the wall while she worked.
Cotton left for her room to switch out of her dirty outfit. Life on the island meant she did not always have to be in uniform. Quite relaxing after serving most of her life aboard starships.
The Listel was still mildly disturbed by Moonrune’s salacious suggestion. After all Ben was a child. And Union law clearly forbade human copulation until the human recipient turned sixteen years. If Cotton felt a desire to breed, there were plenty of suitable Loroi menfolk. Of course Cotton had not exploited her rank’s privileges for the sake of Project First Son. While her mental defenses were good, she was reluctant to try their luck on a mating encounter, where physical contact amplified vulnerability. Fortunately she already had a daughter living on Seren partaking in reconstruction efforts. So mating was not a priority.
Besides, coupling with a human seemed taboo in and of itself. Not that Cotton found Ben repulsive. He was empathic, intelligent, strong and caring. Quite a handsome specimen. Had he been born Loroi he would have made many females happy by passing on his blessed qualities. The Listel didn’t need sanzai to recognize Ben’s expression when she happened to catch him staring at her. Ben bashfully tried to hide this fact. Humans often suffered from an inherent shame when it came to sexual matters. Not that Cotton minded. It was flattering. Of course if Ben were interested in copulation, she couldn’t possibly entertain the idea. Not now at least. But when he was of legal consenting age-
Honor and shame clashed with her lustful pondering. Cotton tried to distract herself from these illicit thoughts. She chose to reflect on her team’s latest test as well as Greywind’s recent vision as she finished changing into a set of clean clothes.
While Cotton regarded these so-called visions skeptically, she had to admit that they bore some remarkable resemblance to humanity’s histories. But that was not enough to classify them as ancestral visions. They could just as easily been imaginative reconstructions built from what humans had learnt in their current lifetimes.
But Cotton was willing to give the Emperor’s visions the benefit of the doubt if there was a chance that it could aid the project’s progress. The human female painted in blue, the one from Greywind’s dream, reminded Cotton of a particular ancient culture she happened upon during one of Wolfgang’s history lessons. An ancient Celtic tribe called the Picts, who once inhabited Earth’s Isle of Britain. By coincidence the Picts were reputed to dye their bodies in blue.
She also recalled one of Sister Judith’s lessons regarding the history of European pagan idols. Of an ancient deity whose name happened to match the last few syllables Greywind recorded.
Belenus.
That’s when she had a thought.
Cotton left her room and rushed to the library. Looking up Indo-European languages spoken in ancient Europe, she activated a Gaelic lexicon. Gaelic was an old Celtic language, not very well known among humans. Perhaps Sister Judith, who was an expert on languages, was not even aware of it. But Cotton knew of its existence at the very least. The Picts also were believed to speak Gaelic at one point in their history. If the recitation Greywind recorded was accurate, perhaps it was a clue. It seemed too fantastic to be true, but after all Cotton had experienced, she was willing to take a leap of faith.
Cotton guessed the words that seemed to best represent each syllable of Greywind’s recitation, rearranging letters until she constructed a sentence that seemed to most sensible.
“Tha an saoghal dùisg a’ mealladh. Ann an aislingean lorg sinn fìrinn. Cluinn mo ghairm, nigheanan Belenus.”
If the translation could be trusted and if it was Gaelic, the recitation meant, “The waking world is a deception. In dreams we find truth. Hear my call, daughters of Belenus.”
Cotton pressed a thoughtful finger to her chin. She recalled Sister Judith’s lectures regarding Earth mythologies and lost cultures. Ancient Greeks believed that dreams were messages from their deities. Chinese and Native American cultures thought that dreams were a means of communication with the spirit world. Cotton did not believe in supernatural fables. But what if the ancient humans, or at least a few of them, might have mistaken contact with ancient Loroi for their own gods? Humans had plenty of myths bearing remarkable resemblance to Loroi.
Hindus worshipped deities with blue skin. Celts had legends of fairies coming to entice human children. Some pagan idols were associated with the stars, including Sol. Hence why Belenus caught Cotton’s interest.
A Celtic deity worshipped in ancient Gaul and Britain on old Earth, Belenus was said to be a fire god with powers of healing and prophecy. He also represented the sun. And while it was uncertain if Belenus was worshipped by the Picts, the Picts were still a confederation of Celtic tribes. Was it unreasonable to entertain the possibility that the Picts worshipped Belenus as well?
What fascinated Cotton about this particular Celtic idol was his affiliation with fire and the sun. Some Loroi warriors from the Chaos Legends were reputed to be the embodiment of fire. An Unsheathed’s essence glowed like a hot flame, burning like a bright sun. Before the witch-hunts for Unsheathed began on Deinar, Unsheathed were once thought by some primitive tribes to bear the mark of divinity.
Most likely Belenus was just a fabricated myth. But what if he did exist once? Though not quite the way humans interpreted. What if Belenus was a Loroi mistaken for a human god? What if many other human deities and mythical creatures were in fact inspired by contact with Loroi? Or any sapient alien for that matter?
Cotton wrestled with the idea of ancient humans possessing sanzai. She still reasoned that humans were not true telepaths by nature. So why then did they have so many myths that resembled the Loroi’s ancient stories? If not mere coincidence, could Loroi have inspired at least some human fables? The depleted mining holes and excavated plateaus of the Great Wasteland’s worlds suggested that the Soia’s empire stretched coreward into the Local Bubble. But never as far as the Sol system. Even human scholars acknowledged there was no proof of aliens ever visiting Earth. Only incredulous hypotheses presented by conspiracy theorists, desperate book publishers and cults interested in capitalizing on the idea.
Even if the Loroi had never physically been to Earth, who was to say that they didn’t see it? While humans possessed a lotai, Earth’s other sentient lifeforms did not. Cotton deduced that if the human lotai had always been a part of human evolution, then maybe ancient farseers from before the Collapse detected humanity. Not directly but through the senses of other sentient animals. The only problem with such an idea was that modern farseers did not have such mental precision even with amplification devices. But what if their Soia predecessors did?
On the other hand the ancient Loroi might have once been able to contact humanity directly. Who was to say the human lotai had always existed? If the Umiak could suddenly conceal themselves with captive farseers subjected to crude instrumentality, perhaps the human lotai was an artificial construct as well. Maybe the skill had been engrained into humanity’s subconscious or unconscious minds. But who or what could have the mental power to edit humanity’s cognitive functions? Something with more psychic sophistication than even the Loroi maybe.
The thought disturbed Cotton. Uncomfortable with the prospects of a superior telepathic force, she let it alone. Regardless of whether or not humans were true telepaths, ancient farseers detecting humanity was feasible. They could not possibly have done so technologically however. Humanity’s most advanced instruments at the time was probably using sticks to make fire and splintered rocks for spearheads. Never mind the stitched animal hides they wore for clothing. Their doctors were herbalists relying on nearby resources to cure ailments, not always successfully. Their librarians were storytellers verbally passing down their histories from one generation to the next because they had not yet conceived reading and writing.
The only conceivable method of contact would be through humanity’s subconscious, but how then could they communicate with Loroi farseers on a span of lightyears? Humanity’s farseer equivalents were tribal shamans whose claims of speaking to mystical spirits could have just as easily been lies or insanity. When their tribes were faced with disasters beyond their control, they cried to idols carved in wood and stone, hoping for a miracle. And when that didn’t work, they prayed to the heavens.
The Listel suddenly had a profound realization.
The idea seemed laughable in the face of science. But if it worked.
She’d never know unless she convinced Greywind and Ben to try it. She wanted to try it now.
Cotton suppressed her eagerness. Testing was not possible for the moment and would have to wait. Realizing just how much time she spent in the library and knowing how much Andre was going to rant about her long absence, Cotton rushed back to the kitchen.
Last edited by Snoofman on Wed Dec 27, 2023 8:15 am, edited 1 time in total.
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wolf329
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Re: A Chorus of Stars
Ooh, this should be an interesting bit of world building.
#1 Tempo simp
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Re: A Chorus of Stars
Just finished blitzing through this series. Very interesting twist on the setting (and I guess what you're writing is arguably a 2nd-degree fanfiction, given that it's based on another fanfic's rough idea), and I appreciate that you've drawn out the "how to get a peek behind lotai" idea rather than having it resolved quickly.
<joking>
And with respect to the "How then could [Human farseers] communicate with Loroi farseers on a span of lightyears?" question, *naturally* this just means that Cotton is about to discover the actual purpose of some of the weird items archaeologists have dug up on Earth over the centuries! Antikythera mechanism? Psi-amplifier. Stonehenge? Psi-call-center. Moai statues? Psi-avatar-images. Pyramids? BIG amplifiers.
</joking>
<joking>
And with respect to the "How then could [Human farseers] communicate with Loroi farseers on a span of lightyears?" question, *naturally* this just means that Cotton is about to discover the actual purpose of some of the weird items archaeologists have dug up on Earth over the centuries! Antikythera mechanism? Psi-amplifier. Stonehenge? Psi-call-center. Moai statues? Psi-avatar-images. Pyramids? BIG amplifiers.
</joking>
Barrai Arrir
Re: A Chorus of Stars
Author's note: I have gone back and changed a bit in Part 12 of Dawn. Happy new year everyone!
- - -
XII - The Celebration
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Greywind remembered when her human employees arrived at the creche seven years ago. Remembered their alien habits. Their insatiable appetite for caffeine. The incurable need for a few to inhale nicotine; a habit reminiscent of smoking spice pipes which Greywind prohibited on the creche grounds. The old Emperor also remembered the adults engaging with her first and second wave of human adoptees. Subjecting them to therapeutic sessions to steer their young minds back to emotional stability. Playing games with the recovering children. Encouraging those vulnerable kids to mingle with their new Loroi peers. Not to mention teaching the Emperor’s prodigy about their Terran culture and the customs that they happened to bring along with them.
Greywind also remembered the humans introducing Christmas. The Loroi of the creche found it reassuring that, like them, the humans celebrated holidays. Though Greywind was initially confused how the Christmas holiday went from celebrating the Christ deity’s birth to emphasizing the charitable deeds of Saint Nicholas, who in turn was reimagined by fiction authors, corporate advertisers and members of old Earth’s entertainment industry into the iconic Santa Claus. On the first Christmas the Loroi and humans celebrated together, it took a few drinks, a proper sobering as well as rectifying a couple intercommunicative misunderstandings between each of the humans’ slightly diverging accounts for the Loroi to understand what Christmas was really about.
Christmas was meant to remind humans the importance of companionship and generosity. Traditionally it was a time of merriment to comfort humans surviving Earth’s perilous winters, reminding the fortunate of human society to show charity to the misfortunate. Though the materialist culture encouraged by money-hungry corporations often distracted many humans form the true meaning of Christmas. A fact Greywind did not respect. Though she was impressed by the kind acts of gift-giving, social feasting and songs done in Christmas’ name.
Now on 24 December 2186 C.E. and the Twelfth Day of Deinar’s Fourteenth Nanapi in the standard year of unification 1898, the residents and guests of the island assembled within and around the arena. All to hear their Emperor’s address.
At the heart of the arena, Torrai Azerein Greywind spoke aloud, “Comrades! Honorable members of the Diadem! Distinguished Ambassadors! Our faithful servants and caregivers! My children! Today we celebrate. We celebrate the reunion of friends and family whom we have not seen in many tozons. We celebrate one-thousand eight-hundred and ninety-eight tozons of continued unity among the Loroi and fellow sapients. We celebrate our triumph against the Umiak Hierarchy and twenty-one years of peace.”
The arena erupted with cheers. A few of the alien ambassadors did not fully share their sentiment.
The old Emperor continued, “We celebrate the arrival of Ambassador Khhem’chu from the capital world of Morat whose race has recently been admitted as full-fledged members of the Loroi Union. May the Morats’ allegiance inspire the former subjects of the Umiak Hierarchy to accept our sovereignty and one day see the benefit of joining the Loroi Union.”
The Loroi hollered again their approval. Khhem’chu grunted her gratitude, stroking her child resting in her arms. Ambassador Kablon was less than thrilled at the prospects of allowing the Morat a seat in the Union’s Alien Assembly. It would be a long time for the Morat and Delrias to overcome their adversity. The human staff felt conflicted about ‘Loroi sovereignty’, but applauded to show the old Emperor their support. Whatever their opinions of Loroi politics or the Terran government, they had not forgotten that Greywind defended them.
“And we celebrate the arrival of three new members of Clan Rainfall,” said Greywind. “What greater gift on Christmas Eve than to offer these three children a new home. Where they have the opportunity to learn and grow. To become contributing members of our family. To be true citizens of our Union. And so by the power vested in me, I, Torrai Azerein Greywind, grant these three young humans the right of Union citizenship with all the privileges and responsibilities that their age and station permit. And these privileges and responsibilities will grow as these three take their first step to becoming citizens of our empire.”
On cue Sister Judith approached the Emperor with Prabir, Io and little Nimarey held by Detair Softwind. Ben was directed to stand behind Io, Han behind Prabir, and Noah beside Softwind and Nimarey.
Just as Ben remembered from his initiation into the Union, a Chronicler came forward for Greywind to sign the documents granting her the right to take the three newcomers as her wards. Io was urged to come forward to sign her name, recognizing Greywind as her official warden. Prabir and Nimarey were much too young to understand or handle documentation and so were not required.
Sister Judith stood beside a table with a water basin and said, “Friends, we gather here to welcome Prabir, Nimarey and Io into our community. I, uh, understand everyone is anxious to get to the festivities, so we can skip some of the formal rituals.” That earned her a few laughs. “Nimarey, Prabir and Io. You three will have an entire family to care for you. To love you. To give you all the tools you will need on the slow road to adulthood. But even a child with the luxury of a large family needs a guardian. Mister Noah Locke, you have graciously sworn yourself as godfather to quite a few children for the past seven years. Are you prepared to take on the role of swearing yourself as godfather to little Nimarey?”
Noah grinned. “You betcha’, Sister.” A couple humans laughed.
Judith turned to the next. “Miss Han Liu, will you take it upon yourself to be godmother to young Prabir? To guide and teach him as he grows? To help him feel included?”
Han bowed. “I do.”
Judith turned to the next. “Ben Teigorastir, as you are much too young to be a godfather,” that earned her some more laughs, “will you instead accept the role of being godbrother to Io? Will you give her aid when she is in need? Will you support her when she is at her lowest and help her to ascend?”
Ben placed a supportive hand on Io’s shoulder and answered, “I will.”
Judith ushered the small group forward toward the basin. She thought of saying her usual blessings, but hesitated. Scooping up a bit of water, she motioned for Io to approach. “Io,” said Judith, gently pouring the water on her crown, “accept this blessing and be welcomed into our family.” She repeated for Nimarey and Prabir.
Greywind thought it odd that Judith should diverge from her usual ritual, but let it be.
Judith stood aside for Greywind to approach. Greywind bent down to offer Nimarey a kiss. She lifted up a whining Prabir to welcome him with a kiss. She placed her hands on Io’s shoulders and gently pecked the girl’s forehead. Adults laughed as Io grimaced, rubbing her forehead.
“Nimarey, Prabir and Io… welcome to Clan Rainfall,” said Greywind. “Welcome to the Loroi Union. Let the silence be lifted!”
Thump! Thump!
Together the assembly erupted into a thunderstorm of fists beating chests for the three newcomers. Humans clapped hands.
Greywind stretched out her hands, signaling silence back to the assembly. “And so, my fellow comrades, let the celebrations commence!”
=== (+) ===
For the whole day stretching into the evening the Loroi, humans and alien visitors celebrated.
Thousands of Loroi clustered throughout the creche grounds. They chattered in the mansions. They gossiped in the gardens. They feasted in the plaza, politely urged by servants not to congregate around the tables to allow access to the refreshments.
Bean squeezed her way past quite a few bodies to get to a feasting table, earning herself some nasty looks particularly from some of the senior warriors.
“Mind your manners, human child,” a Torret snorted at Bean.
Bean offered her sass in kind, “Excuse me, Captain Planet.”
The Torret squinted at Bean, unsure of how to take that. Bean loaded up her plate.
“You sure you got enough there, Hun’?” Beverly asked, eyeing the mountain on Bean’s plate. Amazing that such a slender child could stomach so much.
“Oh, it’s not just for my body,” Bean assured. “Got to keep up brain power. And to enjoy the finer things in life.” Bean scooped up some mashed potatoes, slapping it on her plate next to some imported beef. “‘Cause who knows when we’re going to see it again.”
Beverly quirked her lips. “That’s true. Just be sure to leave some for your fellow humans.”
Bean topped off her food mountain with a couple pork ribs. “Please. There’s enough food to feed an army.” She pointed her thumb at the surrounding Loroi. “Quite literally in point of fact.”
“You really are an Earthling, Bean.”
“How can you tell? Is it my witty sense of humor?”
Beverly shrugged. “Among other things.”
“Hey Bev, do you ever miss Earth?”
Beverly thought it over. “I guess sometimes-”
“Good! Neither do I!” Bean skipped away with her plate.
Beverly sighed.
“Sometimes I think Bean is more alien than… well, aliens,” said Motoko, passing Beverly by as she served herself something deliciously white and red. “Oh, crab meat.”
“Actually that is ronzas nesin,” a well-informed Loroi pointed out from behind the buffet. “A crustacean from Taben. Which coincidently shares remarkably similar biochemistry with crab. Making it a delicious substitute for human consumption.”
“Cotton-senpai, is that you?” Motoko asked. “What are you doing back there?”
The Listel was dressed in an apron and a cook’s cap, much to the humans' amusement. “As a human would say, I am filling in. Cook Andre was despairing on server shortage. I thought it appropriate to offer my services.”
“Well, I hope you don’t miss out on the party,” said Beverly. “Let me try some of that leviathan.”
Cotton obliged by cutting a slice of Tabenid fish for Beverly. “No need to worry, Miss Miller. Remember we are all working in shifts for the next twelve days. I will be happy to relinquish my responsibilities to you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“Your sarcastic tone is noted,” Cotton said with a grin. “Please enjoy these human consumables along with a touch of Loroi sass.”
Beverly couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nice to see you caught on to human humor pretty quickly.”
Cotton offered a toothy smile. “That’s a Listel’s duty.”
Leaf came up to Motoko from a feasting table for Loroi, urging her human friend to follow her back to the gardens. They passed by several circles of Loroi and humans seated at tables or finding comfort under trees. They passed by Loroi admiring the creche's pack of dogs, exotic for those who had never even seen a dog before. They passed by the civilian-born adults who found comfort with their own lot, few warriors seeking their company. They passed by groups of warriors catching up with their Loroi children after years of separation. They passed by kids admiring the aliens. Dermo was seeking shelter by Ziga as the Barsam distracted the little ones'. The human children loved inspecting the gentle giant's elephant-like feet, his four-fingered hands and horned head. Cha bobbed his rhytmically, relishing the waves of telepathy. Luke, Kirk and Ripley gathered around Ambassador Khhem’chu to admire the little creature resting its chin on her forearm.
"You have a cute dog," Luke complimented.
"This is not a dog," Khhem’chu said indignantly. "This is my child."
"Oh, cool," said Ripley. "You have a child that looks like a dog?"
"Nice save," Kirk muttered.
Motoko and Leaf looked oddly at each other, snickering at their younger peers' cluelessness.
A silver-haired warrior sitting among her warrior peers and a couple human children made eye contact with Leaf for a moment, motioning with her finger. Leaf smiled, pointing toward a table. The silver-head repeated a wave of her finger, as if insisting.
“Come, Motoko,” said Leaf, gesturing toward the group.
“Who is that?” Motoko asked.
Leaf presented as she took her seat beside the silver-head, “Motoko, this is my aunt. Mizol Losat Gingerknife. She is stationed with my mother, Mizol Rizoizsit Scythe, on Nagar in the Maoren Sector.”
>Duty prevented your mother from attending,< sent Gingerknife. >The Hegemony's tangle with the Ninnel has compelled some Nissek to flee across our borders. We need warriors like her to keep an eye on those bloody cannibals. But Scythe sends her regards and well wishes for your upcoming trials.<
>Thank you, aunt,< sent Leaf.
Motoko, unaware of their silent dialogue, placed her plate down and bowed. “Hajimemashite, Ginger-san.”
Ginger raised an eyebrow. Leaf clarified the Japanese way of greeting.
“How reassuring to know that some humans seem so proper,” Gingerknife commented.
“Japanese take their traditions seriously,” said Motoko.
“Japanese?” Gingerknife asked. Leaf clarified. “Ah! You are an Earth-born human. So you are not a pirate child then?”
Leaf sent her offense to her aunt, who dismissed the inferior child’s disapproval.
Motoko showed nothing but respect for the young-looking elder. “No, Gingerknife-san. My parents were killed in a raider attack. I was rescued by Soroins when they stormed the raider base. And I am very thankful to the Loroi for saving us.”
“And well you should be,” said Gingerknife, taking a sip of misesa ale. “Warriors make great sacrifices for billions of sapients. You will learn to do so as well if you ever hope to be a warrior-servant.”
“I will, Gingerknife-san.”
Gingerknife took another sip of ale. She turned to a boy sitting to her other side. “Kassad has told me a similar story. It seems very terrible for you children to have lost your families to pirates. Still, for a human child to survive Terran Raiders is quite brave.”
Kassad, who had been listening to some of Ginger’s adventures across the Union, shrugged. “I guess.”
Gingerknife’s grin grew wide as she leaned closer to Kassad, rubbing his shoulder. “Very brave.”
Kassad blushed. Gingerknife’s closeness made him anxious, but he kind of liked the attention.
Caregiver Coldstone walked by, glaring daggers at Gingerknife. She said, “Watch your proximity. And be aware that inappropriate contact with the Emperor’s wards is strictly prohibited.”
“Nothing wrong with enjoying some human company,” Gingerknife laughed.
Coldstone sneered strictly, >If you want to get your valley buzzed, do it aboard one of the trimarans with one of the Nedatans!<
>We know the rules,< a Soroin sent her annoyance, cozying up to Kassad’s free side. >Nothing wrong with an affectionate touch. Stop ruining our fun.<
>Remember there are eyes everywhere at this creche,< Coldstone warned before marching off.
Gingerknife seemed to forget about her niece and human friend as she said, “So Kassad, are you training to be a warrior-servant? Are you a good combatant?”
Kassad nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m good at lishranen.”
“Lishranen!” Gingerknife said, rubbing Kassad’s shoulder. “Perhaps you will be so kind as to spar with us some time. I would love to test your skills.”
Motoko whispered into Leaf’s ear, “Ara ara.”
Leaf raised an eyebrow at her friend.
At a nearby table sat a few of the men of the island along with three Nedatans and their respective Detairs. This was not the Nedatans’ first exchange with the human staff, but the Loroi were still intrigued by these giant menfolk and the amazing stories they had to share from Terran culture. Including authentic recordings.
Philip, a local caregiver and teacher from the nursery, was introducing the menfolk and their Detairs to recordings of equestrian sports. The Loroi were fascinated by these fabled four-legged beasts. Even Ambassador Famiris was drawn to the alien animals. As Loroi and human seats did not suit Arreka, Famiris settled for sitting on his three tucked-in legs.
“Amazing,” said Nedatan Ninzadi Seashell. The young Librarian-in-training took note of the four-legged beast on display making peculiar motions. Though Seashell could not be sure if it was frolicking or trying to hop, bobbing its weight forward and back. “What is the horse animal doing?”
“Terre-a-terre,” said Philip. “Also called straightness training.”
“It looks silly,” Nedatan Timadi Sungift scoffed.
“I assure you it’s anything but,” Philip explained. “This movement was one of many to teach horses to be more maneuverable. And to prepare horses for combat training in old times.”
Nedatan Nilodi Dawnstar voiced astonishment, “You mean humanity rode on these animals into combat?!”
The humans did not need sanzai to see the Loroi’s amazement.
Seashell commented, "Not even Loroi could have her mastered such a feat. Then again none of our domesticated animals were ever suitable for transportation. The best animal we ever domesticated were torils."
Philip added, "Back on 82 Eridani we grew a few horses in exowombs and gave them some of this training."
"You mean humanity still uses these animals on their colonies?"
"Machines and vehicles are good, but breaks down occasionally. Horses serve as a good backup."
The Nedatans were disturbed by the idea of growing in an exowomb, even for animals.
"He's right. Horses also make for great stew," Patrix snickered.
"That's horrible!" Philip voiced disgust.
Patrix defended, "Hey, all animals expire at some point! Might as well put the meat to good use. Besides, non-earthlings can't be too picky about what they eat."
Famiris turned his head from side to side to get a good look at the digital horses with each eye. “Exotic movements,” Famiris voiced something akin to a purr and a gurgle. The Loroi refrained from commenting their discomfort with Famiris’ reaction. The Arreka was courteous enough to excuse himself form the table.
“Is, uh, Big Bird alright?” Noah asked.
“Ambassador Famiris seems fine,” said Dawnstar. “Just a little too excited. Arreka get easily triggered by certain movements.”
“Triggered how?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Noah mouthed, “Oh!”
Philip and Patrix burst into laughter.
Philip giggled out, “Who knew Arreka would get off to hanoverians?”
“Oy! Speaking of getting off,” Patrix motioned his fellow mens’ attention toward Gingerknife’s proximity to Kassad. Patrix gestured with his thumb, grinning wickedly, “I think I smell diesel.”
Noah took note of the Proxi-Irish's observation. He made to get up, “Oh, no she doesn’t! We need to-”
Patrix ushered Noah to sit back down. “Relax, Noah! See Coldstone standing over there? She’s got her eye on them. All the guardians do. It’s our day off. Besides, we're celebrating. You just got a new goddaughter.”
“But that’s sick,” Noah pointed at Ginger’s desiderations. “And not in a good way.” Already he noticed quite a few circles of Loroi adults congregating around some of the boys to admire the handsome little specimens. It made him uneasy.
“You worry too much, Noah,” Patrix urged him. “I don’t like boy-lovers anymore than you do, but Greywind keeps the Loroi in check.”
“It’s my job to worry about these kids,” said Noah, taking a swig of lab soda. He didn’t like alcohol.
“Excuse me, does there seem to be a problem?” Dawnstar asked, tearing his eyes away from digital horses.
“One of the warriors has got her eye on one the boys,” Patrix pointed out.
Sungift scowled disapprovingly as his Deacon enlightened his brethren about the situation. “How inappropriate, especially for a Sentinel. She would profit from a mental examination.”
“That’s exactly what I think,” said Noah.
“Pardon me, comrades,” said Seashell. “But I fail to understand. Why does it seem immoral for a Loroi to show interest in a human male?”
>Perhaps for the same reason Arreka should not watch horses,< Sungift sent suggestively.
Seashell scowled at his colleague, >Cancer boat!<
“It’s a matter of protecting children, Nedatan,” said Noah to Seashell. “You see human kids, once starting puberty, seek pleasure and excitement. This is when their interest in sex wakes up.”
“So why forbid a natural function?” Seashell asked.
“To protect kids from sick fuckers,” Patrix said blatantly, taking a long sip of beer.
“I beg your pardon?” Seashell squinted his eyes in confusion. >Also what is a sick fokker?<
Noah took back control of the conversation, “Human children are still learning, you see. They don’t understand the consequences that come with sex. We could talk for hours about the social, societal, religious, financial and practical reasons why humans place so many taboos on sex. Especially when it comes to children. But one of the biggest reasons is predators.”
“Predators?” The word disturbed Seashell.
“How can you be a librarian and still know so little about human culture?” said Sungift.
Seashell answered bitterly, “Forgive my ignorance, you Embodiment of Perfection. But this librarian has other studies requiring his attention.”
>Friends, please calm down!< Dawnstar urged. He asked the humans, “I am almost afraid to ask, Mister Noah, but what do you mean by ‘predator’?”
Noah considered how to explain the awful truth without going into too many gruesome details. He took a sip of soda, grunted, and explained, “Okay. Imagine for a moment the biggest, cruelest, ugliest thing you’ve ever seen that is incapable of feeling empathy or guilt of wrongdoing. And will use any manipulative tactic to exploit you for their own pleasure even to the point of inflicting serious harm.”
The Nedatans and their Detairs each came up with unique creatures that best matched Noah’s description.
“Got an idea?” asked Noah. “Now imagine that awful thing hiding in human skin.” He paused. “Now imagine it wants to mate.”
Seashell quirked an eyebrow. “Mate with who?”
“Take a guess.”
It took a few moments for the Loroi to catch on.
Seashell whimpered horror, “Replusive! Horrible!”
“Nice to see your gears clicking,” said Noah.
“Dishonor,” Dawnstar showed more restraint in voicing his revulsion. “You mean these predators live among humanity?!”
“Unfortunately,” said Noah. “Luckily most humans are moderately descent. Predators are only a fractional minority among human society. But they’re still dangerous.”
“Why not prosecute them then?”
“Some of them are good at hiding or exploiting the law to protect themselves. That’s why modern humans are typically very defensive with their children.”
>What savagery,< thought Sungift. >How beastly those Terrans!<
>Sungift,< Dawnstar sent indignantly. >You insult the residents of the creche.<
>Well,< Sungift thought it over, >the humans here seem to be an exception. I only wish they wound’t encourage bestiality.<
“But Noah Locke," said Dawnstar, "surely you are aware that Loroi adults are not interested in children. They just happen to mistake human boys for menfolk.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh I know. I’ve heard it all before.” His voice took on a more feminine tone, “‘Well it’s not our fault human boys look like our Loroi males. And besides, if human boys like sex, then why should we feel bad about it?’”
The Loroi regarded Noah strangely.
>Is this what humans call impersonating?< sent Sungift.
>I suppose it is,< sent Dawnstar. “I… think I see your point, Noah Locke.”
“Well I don’t,” said Seashell. “I can understand if a young human doesn’t want to mate with a monster. But what if a human child hypothetically wanted to mate?”
Patrix slammed his beer down. “Lad, you did not just say that now!”
Seashell flinched at Patrix’s outburst. His Detair shifted defensively, glaring at Patrix.
“Peace, friends!” Dawnstar stretched out his hands to his brethren and the humans. “Please. Perhaps a story might offer some clarity. Seashell, do you remember the fable of Dreadseed?”
Seashell acknowledged it.
“Who’s Dreadseed?” Patrix asked.
The humans and Loroi around the table relaxed as Dawnstar explained, “During the start of the Classic Menelos Period, there were three dominant ethnic groups on Mestirot: the western Barraid, the Tadan occupying most of the middle lands of the continent, and the nomadic Login. Tadan’s were fearsome expansionists at this time in Deinar’s history. So much they were pushing the Login off their lands. Since many Tadan thought the Login to be savage inferiors, they approved driving the Login out or just outright exterminating them.”
Dawnstar took a sip of Deinarid wine before continuing, “One Login would not have it. Dreadseed was a male born from one of the nomadic tribes. After watching his familial clan get slaughtered in a Tadan raid, the warriors holding him and his brothers captive intended to use them and their captives to breed slaves. But not allow Dreadseed or his male kin to mate with Tadan warriors. Logins were so looked down upon, that the Tadans did not want to sully their lineage with a seemingly inferior race. But Dreadseed, enraged by the brutality and arrogance of the Tadans, lusted for vengeance. He and his brothers swore to stain the Tadan heritage.”
Philip stopped chewing the vegetables from his plate and asked, “What do you mean by ‘stain’?”
“After managing to escape their captors, Dreadseed and his brothers are believed to have struck first in Denima. Under cover of night, they snuck into the city when most of its inhabitants slept. And with careful concealment, they bred.”
Patrix held up a hand. “Wait! You mean Dreadseed and his brothers fucked around with everybody?!”
After being provided with a translation of the Terran pun-slang, Dawnstar explained, “Well, not everybody. But their plan was to mate with as many females as possible. Especially young ones just entering puberty.”
Noah was shocked. “Man, that is fucked up.”
“Fahkt op?” Dawnstar asked for clarity. He received it. Strange and confusing for one word to hold so many meanings. “Ah, yes. It was very fucked up. Dreadseed and his brothers didn’t stop there. They travelled from one city to the next and repeated this mischief for many years. Probably impregnating tens of thousands of Tadans. Modern Listels can confirm that nearly two percent of Loroi inhabiting the Arran and Messed territories are descendants of Dreadseed’s kin.”
Noah whistled, “You guys sure know how to pop them out.”
"Pop what out?" Seashell asked. He and his brethren were still not used to many Terran expressions.
“It means you're good at making babies. Like Genghis Khan,” Philip commented, taking another bite of veggies.
Sungift squinted his eyes. “Who?”
“I don't get it," said Patrix. "How did mating around fulfill Dreadseed’s lust for revenge? Way I see it, he was doing them girls a favor.”
“Therein lies the problem,” said Dawnstar. “Pubescents rarely understand the implications of sexual misconduct. They fail to appreciate the importance of taboos. They are innocently naive and vulnerable. Eager to mate. Their instinct is to be cordial in the presence of a male and offer him protection.”
Philip asked, “But I thought Loroi couldn’t lie with sanzai. Wouldn’t the girls have known Dreadseed and his brothers were just out to trick them?”
“It depends,” said Dawnstar. “Sanzai is direct and truthful, but a clever mind can conceal certain truths while omitting others. Though most likely Dreadseed and his brothers seduced the Tadan youth by explaining their plight. Of how much they suffered at the hands of Tadan raiders, pushing the Login off their lands. Garnering pity combined with subtle flattery makes it quite easy for a male to win the affection of a gullible female. Some of the seduced females even gave money and food to Dreadseed's brothers.”
“Like a Tinder swindler,” said Noah. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Nice to know some things are universal."
Sungift rolled his eyes to heaven. >I'm not even going to bother understanding that one!<
Patrix seemed to catch on to the moral of Dawnstar's story. “So Dreadseed got his revenge by giving young girls exactly what they wanted without warning them about the backlash that would follow.”
Dawnstar confirmed it, “I thought you would understand. Tadans during that era were particular about their heritage. For a Loroi to have a child without her elders’ approval was shameful. Once the Tadan youth were discovered by their elders to be carrying Login spawn, they suffered terrible disgrace or worse. Eventually Dreadseed and his brothers were caught. A few elduded capture, their fates unknown. Dreaadseed’s kin were imprisoned in Menelos, but refused to mate to make slaves. As you may know, menfolk who refuse to mate suffer terrible pain. Despite their crimes, allowing males to suffer would have been atrocious. So they were granted visits by wealthy non-warriors with enough influence to buy themselves a mating encounter. Stories like Dreadseed’s serve as a good lesson; copulation without forethought breeds tragedy.”
Seashell drew a couple comparisons between humanity’s and Loroi’s taboos before voicing, “So… it is a matter of… protecting one’s dignity and shielding the vulnerable from abuse.”
Patrix also nodded, enlightened by the disturbing story. “Now I think we better understand each other.”
The men, Nedatans and their Detairs became grimly silent.
“Um, why don’t we talk about something nicer?” Philip suggested. “After all it’s Christmas. No more awful sex stories.”
“Now that seems like an agreeable idea,” said Seashell. “Mister Patrix, I cannot help but notice you seem to be a very big human with strangely large muscles.”
“Oh yes he does,” Noah said, playfully grabbing Patrix’s biceps. “Not nearly as big as Sasha. But still big enough.”
“Aye, hands off!” Patrix did not appreciate Noah getting too intimate.
Seashell left his seat and approached Patrix. “Can you… lift me?” His brethren gave him surprised looks. >I’m just curious.<
Patrix grinned wryly. Seashell trembled slightly as the human stood to his full height. Patrix outgrew even the tallest Teidars. The Librarian stiffened nervously as Patrix clasped hands on the Nedatan’s arms and, with seemingly little effort, was elevated off the ground.
A few adults nearby happened to notice, some with amusement. Others with concern for a Nedatan’s safety. This proved unnecessary as Seashell squealed with joy at being lifted by such a strong male.
Dawnstar could not help but laugh, >Seashell, you squeal like an infant!<
>Cram it!< Seashell shot back, half annoyed yet half exhilarated.
A few children, Loroi and human, rushed over wanting to be hefted up by Patrix. The adults laughed, flattered by such innocent eagerness.
>What a unique bunch,< Arclight commented to a circle of comrades, happening to catch sight of Patrix lifting the children one by one.
>And loud,< Torrai Sillatozan Stormrage grumbled.
>You’ll get used to it,< Ashrain assured, enjoying a glass of Deinarid wine.
“Ashrain, is that you?”
Ashrain turned at the familiar voice. “Ben!”
Ben rushed up and hugged her.
“Careful,” Ashrain urged him, awkwardly patting his shoulder.
“Sorry,” said Ben, releasing the Torrai. “Just excited. It’s really good to see you, Ashrain.”
Ashrain scoffed, “Have you forgotten to formally address a superior officer?”
Ben released her. “Oh no, sorry… um… Mazeit.”
Ashrain allowed a smirk to stretch on her lips. “Well… I suppose no need for formalities at family reunions. You seem to have grown.”
“Really? You think so?”
Ashrain rubbed his head as she added, “Much too slowly.”
Ben groaned, playfully dodging Ashrain’s patronizing hand.
The other Loroi around Ashrain slowly surrounded Ben.
“So,” said Arclight, taking in all of Ben, “you must be the fabled First Son.”
“You heard of me?” said Ben.
“Who hasn’t?” said Stormrage, taking a sip of wine. “Rumors of Greywind’s first human son has reached even Ezor.”
“Ezor?” Ben asked.
“Never heard of Ezor?” Stormrage scoffed. “I suppose not. It’s the Mannadi homeworld.”
“You’ve seen the Mannadi?” Ben could not conceal his excitement.
“Seen them? I practically govern them along with several other elder councilors. I am Torrai Sillatozan Stormrage. Great granddaughter of Emperor Greywind. Coincidently cousin to Arclight.”
“Funny,” said Ben. “You don’t look like one of Greywind’s.” Ben realized his poor choice of words. “Uh, not in a bad way or anything. I mean, you’re beautiful. Oh, but, uh, I mean that respectfully. You know I’m not trying to entice you or-” Ben moaned uncomfortably as the Loroi just stared at him, afraid he looked like a fool.
Stormrage just burst into laughter along with a few of the circling Torrais. “Then it’s also true,” said Stormrage. “Rumors say you seem very charming.” She took a step closer, taking in some of his scent. “And handsome.”
Ben blushed.
>Stormrage!< Ashrain warned.
>What?< Stormrage defended. >He is handsome for a human.<
>Careful,< Arclight warned. >You don’t want to get stuck washing dishes for the rest of your stay, do you?<
>What do you take me for? Some unrestrained seed-head? I know the rules when it comes to human children. Doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun with them.< Stormrage asked Ben, “Tell me, Teigorastir. Is it true you are a skilled combatant?”
Ben shrugged. “Well, I’m training to be.”
Stormrage giggled, “So humble.” She rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder, leaning in slightly. “Perhaps you will show us some of your skills sometime during our visit.”
“Oh, I’d love to.”
Stormrage chuckled, taking another sip of wine. “I look forward to it.”
Bling! Bling!
A gentle bell rang out.
All eyes turned to Housemaster Crescent who announced, “Would all children proceed to the plaza? It seems we have a special visitor.”
Ripley, sitting under a tree with some of her peers, squealed for joy, “It’s him!”
Children shot up from their spots, dropping plates and cups as they raced for the plaza.
Arclight asked her comrades, “Him who?”
Ben answered, “Oh, it’s Santa.”
“Santa Claus?!” Arclight got a nod for a reply. “But I thought Santa Claus was fictional!”
Ben sighed. “Um, Torrai, have you ever heard of theatre? Or performing arts?”
Arclight quirked an eyebrow. “I do not believe so.”
Ben turned to Ashrain. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”
Ashrain answered before taking a long sip of wine, “Stagecraft is your race’s specialty. Not mine.”
=== (+) ===
“These garments are ridiculous,” said Icespear, brushing over her red outfit as she inspected her reflection in a mirror. “And these open-ended clothes are drafty.”
“It’s called a skirt,” said Weaver. “Mark, help me close my uniform's back sealant.”
“Sure thing,” Caregiver Mark obliged, zipping Weaver up from behind. “By the way, it’s called a zipper.”
Weaver grinned at Mark. “Much obliged.”
“I don’t care what humans call them,” Icespear grumbled. “The skirt makes me look stupid. And completely exposes my legs. I feel naked.”
“Oh, you’re not naked,” said Han, passing Icespear a red cap. “Just partially naked without breaking taboo.”
Icespear snatched the red cap, muttering, “Thanks.”
“I never thought Loroi could be so sarcastic,” said Mark. He looked at the rest of the group. “Okay, everybody ready?”
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Sasha responded.
“Roger that! Santa and his little helpers, move out!”
Sasha, the Loroi and human helpers hefted large sacks over their shoulders.
Mark threw a sack over his back. He stopped upon noticing Icespear’s sour mood. “Icespear, can’t you look a little happier?”
Icespear glared up at him. “Why?”
“Look, you’re pretending to be a Christmas elf,” Mark pointed out. “Not Krampus.”
Icespear squinted her eyes. “Who?”
“Ugh, never mind. Look, just… try to smile, please? It’s for the children. See?” Mark showed a toothy grin to make his point.
“Is this better?” Icespear stretched her cheeks, trying mimic Mark’s toothy smile.
“Oh god, not like that!” Mark urged her. “You look like Willem Dafoe’s worst- ugh, look just forget it. Don’t smile. You do you.”
Icespear dropped her smile and followed her comrades to the plaza.
=== (+) ===
It was dusk. The human children hopped with excitement as a familiar figure clad in red approached the plaza. Though the Loroi children understood this particular ritual was merely stagecraft, they still partook in the fun.
The guests chuckled with perplexity at the comical display of Santa Claus and his twelve Loroi and human helpers carrying their sacks of gifts. Even more comical was the red skirts the females of both races seemed to sport.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Santa hollered, waving with a big smile under his beard. “Merry Christmas! We come bringing gifts for all the good children.”
>Strange how Sasha’s Trade seems to improve when he impersonates Santa Claus,< thought Twoface, refitting her red cap.
>Or maybe he just remembered his dialogue well,< Weaver pointed out.
Santa dug into his suck and fished out a wrapped gift, checking the name on the package. “Amy! I have a wonderful gift for you.”
Amy squealed with joy. Her respective caregiver allowed her to run up to Santa to fetch her gift. She rewarded Santa with a hug before running back to show off her gift to her peers.
Santa pulled the next gift. “Veil! This is for you.”
Little Veil came forward to accept her gift. She bowed and said, “Thank you, Sasha who is pretending to be Santa Claus.”
A few of Santa’s helpers laughed at the obvious observation. One by one children were called forward by Santa and his helpers to receive presents. Servants rushed to the scene to help clear away scraps of present paper as some children simply couldn’t wait to unveil their gifts.
The adult warriors, still strangers to this bizarre human tradition, simply watched with baffled amusement.
Arclight, watching alongside her comrades, remarked, >How strange.<
Stormrage agreed, >I’ve seen dramaturgy practiced among Neridi and Arreka before. But nothing like this.<
Ashrain chuckled, taking a sip of wine. >Wait till you see their movies.<
>Movies?<
>Fictional recordings humans have made mostly for entertainment purposes. And they got plenty. Usually with a duration of one to two digels each.<
>Really? How many?< Stormrage asked.
Ashrain thought back, >If I remember correctly, there could be about a million or more.<
Stormrage nearly spat out her wine. >That many?! Just how much do these humans waste on fake nonsense?<
Ashrain rolled her eyes to heaven, taking another swig. >A lot.<
>Have you watched any of these fictional recordings?< Arclight asked.
>Just a few. Not all of them are outright falsehoods. And some are mildly entertaining.<
After the children received their gifts, Santa’s helpers reached for the untouched bags and began taking out more handheld gifts. Servants came to help as the tiny presents were put on trays and distributed among the visitors. The aliens, warriors and Nedatans were puzzled yet flattered by the little trinkets they were given. Some received glass doves. Some received golden silhouettes of infants playing trumpets or winged humanoids. Some received golden pentagrams. Some received whistles. Some received silver bells with red bows. Some received tiny wooden dolls painted in elaborate designs, surprised to find even smaller wooden dolls hiding within. Some traded with each other.
Greywind felt the assembly radiate with curiosity and joy. She was surprised when a few human adults and children approach the Emperor with a tiny box topped with a red ribbon.
Greywind did not hide her perplexed expression. “What is this?”
“For you, Emperor” little Katniss said, offering the gift on behalf of her peers.
The old Emperor accepted the tiny box. She opened the lid. Her gift was a mechanism in the form of what appeared to be a comb of metal prongs resting against a cylinder with random protrusions littering its surface. Outside the box was a little crank. Deducing that the crank was meant to be turned, she did just that. What followed was a series of gentle, rhythmic dings sounding off every time the metal prongs brushed against the cylinder’s protrusions. Not a symphony worthy of an Emperor. But pleasantly quaint.
“Oh,” said Beverly, rushing up to the Emperor’s attendant. “And of course we didn’t forget about you, Miss Link.”
Attendant Link accepted a silver comb made with the aid of the creche’s local Gallens. Link pressed a thoughtful finger to her lips as she looked the beautiful piece of craftsmanship over. “Thank you, friends,” she said with a timid grin.
“Yes,” said Greywind. “Thank you. Thank you all.”
The little humans surrounded Greywind, trapping their warden and second mother in a great embrace. A few human adults voiced their flattery.
“Aw!”
“How sweet.”
“Oh, isn’t that just cute?”
Amidst the humans’ adorations, and even some of the Loroi’s, Greywind noticed some distance away her own mother. Rainlash stood and watched Greywind, taking an occasional sip of Deinarid wine. The old Loroi didn’t smile. She didn’t scowl. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t taunt or signal. She didn’t express sadness, displeasure or joy. She just stood passively, sipping her wine and watched.
Loathing feelings threatened to burst forth, but the old Emperor tamed the flames, focusing instead back on the tenderness offered by her wards and children. Greywind had no idea if Rainlash meant to provoke her daughter to anger with her presence, but Greywind did not let it bother her. Rainlash had no power over her. Not for a long time. She was free to do as she pleased as long as she caused no offense.
Greywind sent out a command to summon the choir. Within minutes, Sister Judith and her choir of humans and Loroi assembled in front of the plaza’s Christmas tree. Each singer carried booklet. The choir bowed. Silence came over the assembled guests, save for the occasional grunt or whisper as they wondered what this next human ritual entailed.
Sister Judith curtsied before addressing the assembly, “Welcome one and all. We have for you all tonight another great gift. The gift of music. The first song you are about to hear is an old Christmas carol thought to have been composed more than six centuries ago. And while this music has its roots in spiritual worship, music is not reserved for religious individuals. It is a gift made for all to hear.”
The guests processed the old nun’s words with mixed responses ranging from intrigue to nonchalance. Sister Judith turned to her choir. Holding up her hands, she waved in rhythmic motion, signaling girls, boys, men and women to prepare. Hands opened booklets as each participant turned to the page of their first song.
The old nun silently mouthed, “And one… two…”
The chant began:
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Tempus ad est gratiae hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina laetitiae devote redamus.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Every alien, every Loroi was speechless as the medieval Gaudete flooded their ears, making hairs stand on end in ecstasy as Latin serenades washed over them. The Loroi were not strangers to vocal harmonizing, but this chant was transcendental. Fertile Spring hid his shuttering lips with his hand as the song overwhelmed him. He had listened to plenty of recorded music hailing from Terran culture, but none could compare to the beautiful sounds that drowned out all else in that moment. He and a few of his brethren struggled not to weep for joy. Even Sage Glory stood like a statue, his gaze fixed on the choir.
Io, who had never heard a song before, wiped her bleary eyes as her ears were bombarded by the alien sounds. So this is what a song sounds like, she thought. She still missed her parents, wishing they could be here with her. But she was happy knowing she had a home here with her new human and alien friends.
Icespear forgot momentarily the embarrassing burden of being a Christmas elf and crossed her arms, admiring Gaudete. >Now this Christmas ritual I like.<
>Enchanting, even for a scientist,< Weaver agreed.
Twoface stood by her friends as they admired humans and Loroi chanting together. She saw some of the caregivers and servants on duty holding the infants. Including Dawn. Even from a distance, Dawn managed to pick out Twoface, offering a smile. A smile that made this holiday only merrier for Twoface.
Judith’s choir went on to grace their guests with more chants of “Silent Night,” “Go Tell it on the Mountain,” “Oh Hanukkah,” and many others.
- - -
XII - The Celebration
=== (+) ===
Greywind remembered when her human employees arrived at the creche seven years ago. Remembered their alien habits. Their insatiable appetite for caffeine. The incurable need for a few to inhale nicotine; a habit reminiscent of smoking spice pipes which Greywind prohibited on the creche grounds. The old Emperor also remembered the adults engaging with her first and second wave of human adoptees. Subjecting them to therapeutic sessions to steer their young minds back to emotional stability. Playing games with the recovering children. Encouraging those vulnerable kids to mingle with their new Loroi peers. Not to mention teaching the Emperor’s prodigy about their Terran culture and the customs that they happened to bring along with them.
Greywind also remembered the humans introducing Christmas. The Loroi of the creche found it reassuring that, like them, the humans celebrated holidays. Though Greywind was initially confused how the Christmas holiday went from celebrating the Christ deity’s birth to emphasizing the charitable deeds of Saint Nicholas, who in turn was reimagined by fiction authors, corporate advertisers and members of old Earth’s entertainment industry into the iconic Santa Claus. On the first Christmas the Loroi and humans celebrated together, it took a few drinks, a proper sobering as well as rectifying a couple intercommunicative misunderstandings between each of the humans’ slightly diverging accounts for the Loroi to understand what Christmas was really about.
Christmas was meant to remind humans the importance of companionship and generosity. Traditionally it was a time of merriment to comfort humans surviving Earth’s perilous winters, reminding the fortunate of human society to show charity to the misfortunate. Though the materialist culture encouraged by money-hungry corporations often distracted many humans form the true meaning of Christmas. A fact Greywind did not respect. Though she was impressed by the kind acts of gift-giving, social feasting and songs done in Christmas’ name.
Now on 24 December 2186 C.E. and the Twelfth Day of Deinar’s Fourteenth Nanapi in the standard year of unification 1898, the residents and guests of the island assembled within and around the arena. All to hear their Emperor’s address.
At the heart of the arena, Torrai Azerein Greywind spoke aloud, “Comrades! Honorable members of the Diadem! Distinguished Ambassadors! Our faithful servants and caregivers! My children! Today we celebrate. We celebrate the reunion of friends and family whom we have not seen in many tozons. We celebrate one-thousand eight-hundred and ninety-eight tozons of continued unity among the Loroi and fellow sapients. We celebrate our triumph against the Umiak Hierarchy and twenty-one years of peace.”
The arena erupted with cheers. A few of the alien ambassadors did not fully share their sentiment.
The old Emperor continued, “We celebrate the arrival of Ambassador Khhem’chu from the capital world of Morat whose race has recently been admitted as full-fledged members of the Loroi Union. May the Morats’ allegiance inspire the former subjects of the Umiak Hierarchy to accept our sovereignty and one day see the benefit of joining the Loroi Union.”
The Loroi hollered again their approval. Khhem’chu grunted her gratitude, stroking her child resting in her arms. Ambassador Kablon was less than thrilled at the prospects of allowing the Morat a seat in the Union’s Alien Assembly. It would be a long time for the Morat and Delrias to overcome their adversity. The human staff felt conflicted about ‘Loroi sovereignty’, but applauded to show the old Emperor their support. Whatever their opinions of Loroi politics or the Terran government, they had not forgotten that Greywind defended them.
“And we celebrate the arrival of three new members of Clan Rainfall,” said Greywind. “What greater gift on Christmas Eve than to offer these three children a new home. Where they have the opportunity to learn and grow. To become contributing members of our family. To be true citizens of our Union. And so by the power vested in me, I, Torrai Azerein Greywind, grant these three young humans the right of Union citizenship with all the privileges and responsibilities that their age and station permit. And these privileges and responsibilities will grow as these three take their first step to becoming citizens of our empire.”
On cue Sister Judith approached the Emperor with Prabir, Io and little Nimarey held by Detair Softwind. Ben was directed to stand behind Io, Han behind Prabir, and Noah beside Softwind and Nimarey.
Just as Ben remembered from his initiation into the Union, a Chronicler came forward for Greywind to sign the documents granting her the right to take the three newcomers as her wards. Io was urged to come forward to sign her name, recognizing Greywind as her official warden. Prabir and Nimarey were much too young to understand or handle documentation and so were not required.
Sister Judith stood beside a table with a water basin and said, “Friends, we gather here to welcome Prabir, Nimarey and Io into our community. I, uh, understand everyone is anxious to get to the festivities, so we can skip some of the formal rituals.” That earned her a few laughs. “Nimarey, Prabir and Io. You three will have an entire family to care for you. To love you. To give you all the tools you will need on the slow road to adulthood. But even a child with the luxury of a large family needs a guardian. Mister Noah Locke, you have graciously sworn yourself as godfather to quite a few children for the past seven years. Are you prepared to take on the role of swearing yourself as godfather to little Nimarey?”
Noah grinned. “You betcha’, Sister.” A couple humans laughed.
Judith turned to the next. “Miss Han Liu, will you take it upon yourself to be godmother to young Prabir? To guide and teach him as he grows? To help him feel included?”
Han bowed. “I do.”
Judith turned to the next. “Ben Teigorastir, as you are much too young to be a godfather,” that earned her some more laughs, “will you instead accept the role of being godbrother to Io? Will you give her aid when she is in need? Will you support her when she is at her lowest and help her to ascend?”
Ben placed a supportive hand on Io’s shoulder and answered, “I will.”
Judith ushered the small group forward toward the basin. She thought of saying her usual blessings, but hesitated. Scooping up a bit of water, she motioned for Io to approach. “Io,” said Judith, gently pouring the water on her crown, “accept this blessing and be welcomed into our family.” She repeated for Nimarey and Prabir.
Greywind thought it odd that Judith should diverge from her usual ritual, but let it be.
Judith stood aside for Greywind to approach. Greywind bent down to offer Nimarey a kiss. She lifted up a whining Prabir to welcome him with a kiss. She placed her hands on Io’s shoulders and gently pecked the girl’s forehead. Adults laughed as Io grimaced, rubbing her forehead.
“Nimarey, Prabir and Io… welcome to Clan Rainfall,” said Greywind. “Welcome to the Loroi Union. Let the silence be lifted!”
Thump! Thump!
Together the assembly erupted into a thunderstorm of fists beating chests for the three newcomers. Humans clapped hands.
Greywind stretched out her hands, signaling silence back to the assembly. “And so, my fellow comrades, let the celebrations commence!”
=== (+) ===
For the whole day stretching into the evening the Loroi, humans and alien visitors celebrated.
Thousands of Loroi clustered throughout the creche grounds. They chattered in the mansions. They gossiped in the gardens. They feasted in the plaza, politely urged by servants not to congregate around the tables to allow access to the refreshments.
Bean squeezed her way past quite a few bodies to get to a feasting table, earning herself some nasty looks particularly from some of the senior warriors.
“Mind your manners, human child,” a Torret snorted at Bean.
Bean offered her sass in kind, “Excuse me, Captain Planet.”
The Torret squinted at Bean, unsure of how to take that. Bean loaded up her plate.
“You sure you got enough there, Hun’?” Beverly asked, eyeing the mountain on Bean’s plate. Amazing that such a slender child could stomach so much.
“Oh, it’s not just for my body,” Bean assured. “Got to keep up brain power. And to enjoy the finer things in life.” Bean scooped up some mashed potatoes, slapping it on her plate next to some imported beef. “‘Cause who knows when we’re going to see it again.”
Beverly quirked her lips. “That’s true. Just be sure to leave some for your fellow humans.”
Bean topped off her food mountain with a couple pork ribs. “Please. There’s enough food to feed an army.” She pointed her thumb at the surrounding Loroi. “Quite literally in point of fact.”
“You really are an Earthling, Bean.”
“How can you tell? Is it my witty sense of humor?”
Beverly shrugged. “Among other things.”
“Hey Bev, do you ever miss Earth?”
Beverly thought it over. “I guess sometimes-”
“Good! Neither do I!” Bean skipped away with her plate.
Beverly sighed.
“Sometimes I think Bean is more alien than… well, aliens,” said Motoko, passing Beverly by as she served herself something deliciously white and red. “Oh, crab meat.”
“Actually that is ronzas nesin,” a well-informed Loroi pointed out from behind the buffet. “A crustacean from Taben. Which coincidently shares remarkably similar biochemistry with crab. Making it a delicious substitute for human consumption.”
“Cotton-senpai, is that you?” Motoko asked. “What are you doing back there?”
The Listel was dressed in an apron and a cook’s cap, much to the humans' amusement. “As a human would say, I am filling in. Cook Andre was despairing on server shortage. I thought it appropriate to offer my services.”
“Well, I hope you don’t miss out on the party,” said Beverly. “Let me try some of that leviathan.”
Cotton obliged by cutting a slice of Tabenid fish for Beverly. “No need to worry, Miss Miller. Remember we are all working in shifts for the next twelve days. I will be happy to relinquish my responsibilities to you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“Your sarcastic tone is noted,” Cotton said with a grin. “Please enjoy these human consumables along with a touch of Loroi sass.”
Beverly couldn’t help but chuckle. “Nice to see you caught on to human humor pretty quickly.”
Cotton offered a toothy smile. “That’s a Listel’s duty.”
Leaf came up to Motoko from a feasting table for Loroi, urging her human friend to follow her back to the gardens. They passed by several circles of Loroi and humans seated at tables or finding comfort under trees. They passed by Loroi admiring the creche's pack of dogs, exotic for those who had never even seen a dog before. They passed by the civilian-born adults who found comfort with their own lot, few warriors seeking their company. They passed by groups of warriors catching up with their Loroi children after years of separation. They passed by kids admiring the aliens. Dermo was seeking shelter by Ziga as the Barsam distracted the little ones'. The human children loved inspecting the gentle giant's elephant-like feet, his four-fingered hands and horned head. Cha bobbed his rhytmically, relishing the waves of telepathy. Luke, Kirk and Ripley gathered around Ambassador Khhem’chu to admire the little creature resting its chin on her forearm.
"You have a cute dog," Luke complimented.
"This is not a dog," Khhem’chu said indignantly. "This is my child."
"Oh, cool," said Ripley. "You have a child that looks like a dog?"
"Nice save," Kirk muttered.
Motoko and Leaf looked oddly at each other, snickering at their younger peers' cluelessness.
A silver-haired warrior sitting among her warrior peers and a couple human children made eye contact with Leaf for a moment, motioning with her finger. Leaf smiled, pointing toward a table. The silver-head repeated a wave of her finger, as if insisting.
“Come, Motoko,” said Leaf, gesturing toward the group.
“Who is that?” Motoko asked.
Leaf presented as she took her seat beside the silver-head, “Motoko, this is my aunt. Mizol Losat Gingerknife. She is stationed with my mother, Mizol Rizoizsit Scythe, on Nagar in the Maoren Sector.”
>Duty prevented your mother from attending,< sent Gingerknife. >The Hegemony's tangle with the Ninnel has compelled some Nissek to flee across our borders. We need warriors like her to keep an eye on those bloody cannibals. But Scythe sends her regards and well wishes for your upcoming trials.<
>Thank you, aunt,< sent Leaf.
Motoko, unaware of their silent dialogue, placed her plate down and bowed. “Hajimemashite, Ginger-san.”
Ginger raised an eyebrow. Leaf clarified the Japanese way of greeting.
“How reassuring to know that some humans seem so proper,” Gingerknife commented.
“Japanese take their traditions seriously,” said Motoko.
“Japanese?” Gingerknife asked. Leaf clarified. “Ah! You are an Earth-born human. So you are not a pirate child then?”
Leaf sent her offense to her aunt, who dismissed the inferior child’s disapproval.
Motoko showed nothing but respect for the young-looking elder. “No, Gingerknife-san. My parents were killed in a raider attack. I was rescued by Soroins when they stormed the raider base. And I am very thankful to the Loroi for saving us.”
“And well you should be,” said Gingerknife, taking a sip of misesa ale. “Warriors make great sacrifices for billions of sapients. You will learn to do so as well if you ever hope to be a warrior-servant.”
“I will, Gingerknife-san.”
Gingerknife took another sip of ale. She turned to a boy sitting to her other side. “Kassad has told me a similar story. It seems very terrible for you children to have lost your families to pirates. Still, for a human child to survive Terran Raiders is quite brave.”
Kassad, who had been listening to some of Ginger’s adventures across the Union, shrugged. “I guess.”
Gingerknife’s grin grew wide as she leaned closer to Kassad, rubbing his shoulder. “Very brave.”
Kassad blushed. Gingerknife’s closeness made him anxious, but he kind of liked the attention.
Caregiver Coldstone walked by, glaring daggers at Gingerknife. She said, “Watch your proximity. And be aware that inappropriate contact with the Emperor’s wards is strictly prohibited.”
“Nothing wrong with enjoying some human company,” Gingerknife laughed.
Coldstone sneered strictly, >If you want to get your valley buzzed, do it aboard one of the trimarans with one of the Nedatans!<
>We know the rules,< a Soroin sent her annoyance, cozying up to Kassad’s free side. >Nothing wrong with an affectionate touch. Stop ruining our fun.<
>Remember there are eyes everywhere at this creche,< Coldstone warned before marching off.
Gingerknife seemed to forget about her niece and human friend as she said, “So Kassad, are you training to be a warrior-servant? Are you a good combatant?”
Kassad nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m good at lishranen.”
“Lishranen!” Gingerknife said, rubbing Kassad’s shoulder. “Perhaps you will be so kind as to spar with us some time. I would love to test your skills.”
Motoko whispered into Leaf’s ear, “Ara ara.”
Leaf raised an eyebrow at her friend.
At a nearby table sat a few of the men of the island along with three Nedatans and their respective Detairs. This was not the Nedatans’ first exchange with the human staff, but the Loroi were still intrigued by these giant menfolk and the amazing stories they had to share from Terran culture. Including authentic recordings.
Philip, a local caregiver and teacher from the nursery, was introducing the menfolk and their Detairs to recordings of equestrian sports. The Loroi were fascinated by these fabled four-legged beasts. Even Ambassador Famiris was drawn to the alien animals. As Loroi and human seats did not suit Arreka, Famiris settled for sitting on his three tucked-in legs.
“Amazing,” said Nedatan Ninzadi Seashell. The young Librarian-in-training took note of the four-legged beast on display making peculiar motions. Though Seashell could not be sure if it was frolicking or trying to hop, bobbing its weight forward and back. “What is the horse animal doing?”
“Terre-a-terre,” said Philip. “Also called straightness training.”
“It looks silly,” Nedatan Timadi Sungift scoffed.
“I assure you it’s anything but,” Philip explained. “This movement was one of many to teach horses to be more maneuverable. And to prepare horses for combat training in old times.”
Nedatan Nilodi Dawnstar voiced astonishment, “You mean humanity rode on these animals into combat?!”
The humans did not need sanzai to see the Loroi’s amazement.
Seashell commented, "Not even Loroi could have her mastered such a feat. Then again none of our domesticated animals were ever suitable for transportation. The best animal we ever domesticated were torils."
Philip added, "Back on 82 Eridani we grew a few horses in exowombs and gave them some of this training."
"You mean humanity still uses these animals on their colonies?"
"Machines and vehicles are good, but breaks down occasionally. Horses serve as a good backup."
The Nedatans were disturbed by the idea of growing in an exowomb, even for animals.
"He's right. Horses also make for great stew," Patrix snickered.
"That's horrible!" Philip voiced disgust.
Patrix defended, "Hey, all animals expire at some point! Might as well put the meat to good use. Besides, non-earthlings can't be too picky about what they eat."
Famiris turned his head from side to side to get a good look at the digital horses with each eye. “Exotic movements,” Famiris voiced something akin to a purr and a gurgle. The Loroi refrained from commenting their discomfort with Famiris’ reaction. The Arreka was courteous enough to excuse himself form the table.
“Is, uh, Big Bird alright?” Noah asked.
“Ambassador Famiris seems fine,” said Dawnstar. “Just a little too excited. Arreka get easily triggered by certain movements.”
“Triggered how?”
“Are you sure you want to know?”
Noah mouthed, “Oh!”
Philip and Patrix burst into laughter.
Philip giggled out, “Who knew Arreka would get off to hanoverians?”
“Oy! Speaking of getting off,” Patrix motioned his fellow mens’ attention toward Gingerknife’s proximity to Kassad. Patrix gestured with his thumb, grinning wickedly, “I think I smell diesel.”
Noah took note of the Proxi-Irish's observation. He made to get up, “Oh, no she doesn’t! We need to-”
Patrix ushered Noah to sit back down. “Relax, Noah! See Coldstone standing over there? She’s got her eye on them. All the guardians do. It’s our day off. Besides, we're celebrating. You just got a new goddaughter.”
“But that’s sick,” Noah pointed at Ginger’s desiderations. “And not in a good way.” Already he noticed quite a few circles of Loroi adults congregating around some of the boys to admire the handsome little specimens. It made him uneasy.
“You worry too much, Noah,” Patrix urged him. “I don’t like boy-lovers anymore than you do, but Greywind keeps the Loroi in check.”
“It’s my job to worry about these kids,” said Noah, taking a swig of lab soda. He didn’t like alcohol.
“Excuse me, does there seem to be a problem?” Dawnstar asked, tearing his eyes away from digital horses.
“One of the warriors has got her eye on one the boys,” Patrix pointed out.
Sungift scowled disapprovingly as his Deacon enlightened his brethren about the situation. “How inappropriate, especially for a Sentinel. She would profit from a mental examination.”
“That’s exactly what I think,” said Noah.
“Pardon me, comrades,” said Seashell. “But I fail to understand. Why does it seem immoral for a Loroi to show interest in a human male?”
>Perhaps for the same reason Arreka should not watch horses,< Sungift sent suggestively.
Seashell scowled at his colleague, >Cancer boat!<
“It’s a matter of protecting children, Nedatan,” said Noah to Seashell. “You see human kids, once starting puberty, seek pleasure and excitement. This is when their interest in sex wakes up.”
“So why forbid a natural function?” Seashell asked.
“To protect kids from sick fuckers,” Patrix said blatantly, taking a long sip of beer.
“I beg your pardon?” Seashell squinted his eyes in confusion. >Also what is a sick fokker?<
Noah took back control of the conversation, “Human children are still learning, you see. They don’t understand the consequences that come with sex. We could talk for hours about the social, societal, religious, financial and practical reasons why humans place so many taboos on sex. Especially when it comes to children. But one of the biggest reasons is predators.”
“Predators?” The word disturbed Seashell.
“How can you be a librarian and still know so little about human culture?” said Sungift.
Seashell answered bitterly, “Forgive my ignorance, you Embodiment of Perfection. But this librarian has other studies requiring his attention.”
>Friends, please calm down!< Dawnstar urged. He asked the humans, “I am almost afraid to ask, Mister Noah, but what do you mean by ‘predator’?”
Noah considered how to explain the awful truth without going into too many gruesome details. He took a sip of soda, grunted, and explained, “Okay. Imagine for a moment the biggest, cruelest, ugliest thing you’ve ever seen that is incapable of feeling empathy or guilt of wrongdoing. And will use any manipulative tactic to exploit you for their own pleasure even to the point of inflicting serious harm.”
The Nedatans and their Detairs each came up with unique creatures that best matched Noah’s description.
“Got an idea?” asked Noah. “Now imagine that awful thing hiding in human skin.” He paused. “Now imagine it wants to mate.”
Seashell quirked an eyebrow. “Mate with who?”
“Take a guess.”
It took a few moments for the Loroi to catch on.
Seashell whimpered horror, “Replusive! Horrible!”
“Nice to see your gears clicking,” said Noah.
“Dishonor,” Dawnstar showed more restraint in voicing his revulsion. “You mean these predators live among humanity?!”
“Unfortunately,” said Noah. “Luckily most humans are moderately descent. Predators are only a fractional minority among human society. But they’re still dangerous.”
“Why not prosecute them then?”
“Some of them are good at hiding or exploiting the law to protect themselves. That’s why modern humans are typically very defensive with their children.”
>What savagery,< thought Sungift. >How beastly those Terrans!<
>Sungift,< Dawnstar sent indignantly. >You insult the residents of the creche.<
>Well,< Sungift thought it over, >the humans here seem to be an exception. I only wish they wound’t encourage bestiality.<
“But Noah Locke," said Dawnstar, "surely you are aware that Loroi adults are not interested in children. They just happen to mistake human boys for menfolk.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh I know. I’ve heard it all before.” His voice took on a more feminine tone, “‘Well it’s not our fault human boys look like our Loroi males. And besides, if human boys like sex, then why should we feel bad about it?’”
The Loroi regarded Noah strangely.
>Is this what humans call impersonating?< sent Sungift.
>I suppose it is,< sent Dawnstar. “I… think I see your point, Noah Locke.”
“Well I don’t,” said Seashell. “I can understand if a young human doesn’t want to mate with a monster. But what if a human child hypothetically wanted to mate?”
Patrix slammed his beer down. “Lad, you did not just say that now!”
Seashell flinched at Patrix’s outburst. His Detair shifted defensively, glaring at Patrix.
“Peace, friends!” Dawnstar stretched out his hands to his brethren and the humans. “Please. Perhaps a story might offer some clarity. Seashell, do you remember the fable of Dreadseed?”
Seashell acknowledged it.
“Who’s Dreadseed?” Patrix asked.
The humans and Loroi around the table relaxed as Dawnstar explained, “During the start of the Classic Menelos Period, there were three dominant ethnic groups on Mestirot: the western Barraid, the Tadan occupying most of the middle lands of the continent, and the nomadic Login. Tadan’s were fearsome expansionists at this time in Deinar’s history. So much they were pushing the Login off their lands. Since many Tadan thought the Login to be savage inferiors, they approved driving the Login out or just outright exterminating them.”
Dawnstar took a sip of Deinarid wine before continuing, “One Login would not have it. Dreadseed was a male born from one of the nomadic tribes. After watching his familial clan get slaughtered in a Tadan raid, the warriors holding him and his brothers captive intended to use them and their captives to breed slaves. But not allow Dreadseed or his male kin to mate with Tadan warriors. Logins were so looked down upon, that the Tadans did not want to sully their lineage with a seemingly inferior race. But Dreadseed, enraged by the brutality and arrogance of the Tadans, lusted for vengeance. He and his brothers swore to stain the Tadan heritage.”
Philip stopped chewing the vegetables from his plate and asked, “What do you mean by ‘stain’?”
“After managing to escape their captors, Dreadseed and his brothers are believed to have struck first in Denima. Under cover of night, they snuck into the city when most of its inhabitants slept. And with careful concealment, they bred.”
Patrix held up a hand. “Wait! You mean Dreadseed and his brothers fucked around with everybody?!”
After being provided with a translation of the Terran pun-slang, Dawnstar explained, “Well, not everybody. But their plan was to mate with as many females as possible. Especially young ones just entering puberty.”
Noah was shocked. “Man, that is fucked up.”
“Fahkt op?” Dawnstar asked for clarity. He received it. Strange and confusing for one word to hold so many meanings. “Ah, yes. It was very fucked up. Dreadseed and his brothers didn’t stop there. They travelled from one city to the next and repeated this mischief for many years. Probably impregnating tens of thousands of Tadans. Modern Listels can confirm that nearly two percent of Loroi inhabiting the Arran and Messed territories are descendants of Dreadseed’s kin.”
Noah whistled, “You guys sure know how to pop them out.”
"Pop what out?" Seashell asked. He and his brethren were still not used to many Terran expressions.
“It means you're good at making babies. Like Genghis Khan,” Philip commented, taking another bite of veggies.
Sungift squinted his eyes. “Who?”
“I don't get it," said Patrix. "How did mating around fulfill Dreadseed’s lust for revenge? Way I see it, he was doing them girls a favor.”
“Therein lies the problem,” said Dawnstar. “Pubescents rarely understand the implications of sexual misconduct. They fail to appreciate the importance of taboos. They are innocently naive and vulnerable. Eager to mate. Their instinct is to be cordial in the presence of a male and offer him protection.”
Philip asked, “But I thought Loroi couldn’t lie with sanzai. Wouldn’t the girls have known Dreadseed and his brothers were just out to trick them?”
“It depends,” said Dawnstar. “Sanzai is direct and truthful, but a clever mind can conceal certain truths while omitting others. Though most likely Dreadseed and his brothers seduced the Tadan youth by explaining their plight. Of how much they suffered at the hands of Tadan raiders, pushing the Login off their lands. Garnering pity combined with subtle flattery makes it quite easy for a male to win the affection of a gullible female. Some of the seduced females even gave money and food to Dreadseed's brothers.”
“Like a Tinder swindler,” said Noah. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Nice to know some things are universal."
Sungift rolled his eyes to heaven. >I'm not even going to bother understanding that one!<
Patrix seemed to catch on to the moral of Dawnstar's story. “So Dreadseed got his revenge by giving young girls exactly what they wanted without warning them about the backlash that would follow.”
Dawnstar confirmed it, “I thought you would understand. Tadans during that era were particular about their heritage. For a Loroi to have a child without her elders’ approval was shameful. Once the Tadan youth were discovered by their elders to be carrying Login spawn, they suffered terrible disgrace or worse. Eventually Dreadseed and his brothers were caught. A few elduded capture, their fates unknown. Dreaadseed’s kin were imprisoned in Menelos, but refused to mate to make slaves. As you may know, menfolk who refuse to mate suffer terrible pain. Despite their crimes, allowing males to suffer would have been atrocious. So they were granted visits by wealthy non-warriors with enough influence to buy themselves a mating encounter. Stories like Dreadseed’s serve as a good lesson; copulation without forethought breeds tragedy.”
Seashell drew a couple comparisons between humanity’s and Loroi’s taboos before voicing, “So… it is a matter of… protecting one’s dignity and shielding the vulnerable from abuse.”
Patrix also nodded, enlightened by the disturbing story. “Now I think we better understand each other.”
The men, Nedatans and their Detairs became grimly silent.
“Um, why don’t we talk about something nicer?” Philip suggested. “After all it’s Christmas. No more awful sex stories.”
“Now that seems like an agreeable idea,” said Seashell. “Mister Patrix, I cannot help but notice you seem to be a very big human with strangely large muscles.”
“Oh yes he does,” Noah said, playfully grabbing Patrix’s biceps. “Not nearly as big as Sasha. But still big enough.”
“Aye, hands off!” Patrix did not appreciate Noah getting too intimate.
Seashell left his seat and approached Patrix. “Can you… lift me?” His brethren gave him surprised looks. >I’m just curious.<
Patrix grinned wryly. Seashell trembled slightly as the human stood to his full height. Patrix outgrew even the tallest Teidars. The Librarian stiffened nervously as Patrix clasped hands on the Nedatan’s arms and, with seemingly little effort, was elevated off the ground.
A few adults nearby happened to notice, some with amusement. Others with concern for a Nedatan’s safety. This proved unnecessary as Seashell squealed with joy at being lifted by such a strong male.
Dawnstar could not help but laugh, >Seashell, you squeal like an infant!<
>Cram it!< Seashell shot back, half annoyed yet half exhilarated.
A few children, Loroi and human, rushed over wanting to be hefted up by Patrix. The adults laughed, flattered by such innocent eagerness.
>What a unique bunch,< Arclight commented to a circle of comrades, happening to catch sight of Patrix lifting the children one by one.
>And loud,< Torrai Sillatozan Stormrage grumbled.
>You’ll get used to it,< Ashrain assured, enjoying a glass of Deinarid wine.
“Ashrain, is that you?”
Ashrain turned at the familiar voice. “Ben!”
Ben rushed up and hugged her.
“Careful,” Ashrain urged him, awkwardly patting his shoulder.
“Sorry,” said Ben, releasing the Torrai. “Just excited. It’s really good to see you, Ashrain.”
Ashrain scoffed, “Have you forgotten to formally address a superior officer?”
Ben released her. “Oh no, sorry… um… Mazeit.”
Ashrain allowed a smirk to stretch on her lips. “Well… I suppose no need for formalities at family reunions. You seem to have grown.”
“Really? You think so?”
Ashrain rubbed his head as she added, “Much too slowly.”
Ben groaned, playfully dodging Ashrain’s patronizing hand.
The other Loroi around Ashrain slowly surrounded Ben.
“So,” said Arclight, taking in all of Ben, “you must be the fabled First Son.”
“You heard of me?” said Ben.
“Who hasn’t?” said Stormrage, taking a sip of wine. “Rumors of Greywind’s first human son has reached even Ezor.”
“Ezor?” Ben asked.
“Never heard of Ezor?” Stormrage scoffed. “I suppose not. It’s the Mannadi homeworld.”
“You’ve seen the Mannadi?” Ben could not conceal his excitement.
“Seen them? I practically govern them along with several other elder councilors. I am Torrai Sillatozan Stormrage. Great granddaughter of Emperor Greywind. Coincidently cousin to Arclight.”
“Funny,” said Ben. “You don’t look like one of Greywind’s.” Ben realized his poor choice of words. “Uh, not in a bad way or anything. I mean, you’re beautiful. Oh, but, uh, I mean that respectfully. You know I’m not trying to entice you or-” Ben moaned uncomfortably as the Loroi just stared at him, afraid he looked like a fool.
Stormrage just burst into laughter along with a few of the circling Torrais. “Then it’s also true,” said Stormrage. “Rumors say you seem very charming.” She took a step closer, taking in some of his scent. “And handsome.”
Ben blushed.
>Stormrage!< Ashrain warned.
>What?< Stormrage defended. >He is handsome for a human.<
>Careful,< Arclight warned. >You don’t want to get stuck washing dishes for the rest of your stay, do you?<
>What do you take me for? Some unrestrained seed-head? I know the rules when it comes to human children. Doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun with them.< Stormrage asked Ben, “Tell me, Teigorastir. Is it true you are a skilled combatant?”
Ben shrugged. “Well, I’m training to be.”
Stormrage giggled, “So humble.” She rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder, leaning in slightly. “Perhaps you will show us some of your skills sometime during our visit.”
“Oh, I’d love to.”
Stormrage chuckled, taking another sip of wine. “I look forward to it.”
Bling! Bling!
A gentle bell rang out.
All eyes turned to Housemaster Crescent who announced, “Would all children proceed to the plaza? It seems we have a special visitor.”
Ripley, sitting under a tree with some of her peers, squealed for joy, “It’s him!”
Children shot up from their spots, dropping plates and cups as they raced for the plaza.
Arclight asked her comrades, “Him who?”
Ben answered, “Oh, it’s Santa.”
“Santa Claus?!” Arclight got a nod for a reply. “But I thought Santa Claus was fictional!”
Ben sighed. “Um, Torrai, have you ever heard of theatre? Or performing arts?”
Arclight quirked an eyebrow. “I do not believe so.”
Ben turned to Ashrain. “Do you want to tell her or should I?”
Ashrain answered before taking a long sip of wine, “Stagecraft is your race’s specialty. Not mine.”
=== (+) ===
“These garments are ridiculous,” said Icespear, brushing over her red outfit as she inspected her reflection in a mirror. “And these open-ended clothes are drafty.”
“It’s called a skirt,” said Weaver. “Mark, help me close my uniform's back sealant.”
“Sure thing,” Caregiver Mark obliged, zipping Weaver up from behind. “By the way, it’s called a zipper.”
Weaver grinned at Mark. “Much obliged.”
“I don’t care what humans call them,” Icespear grumbled. “The skirt makes me look stupid. And completely exposes my legs. I feel naked.”
“Oh, you’re not naked,” said Han, passing Icespear a red cap. “Just partially naked without breaking taboo.”
Icespear snatched the red cap, muttering, “Thanks.”
“I never thought Loroi could be so sarcastic,” said Mark. He looked at the rest of the group. “Okay, everybody ready?”
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Sasha responded.
“Roger that! Santa and his little helpers, move out!”
Sasha, the Loroi and human helpers hefted large sacks over their shoulders.
Mark threw a sack over his back. He stopped upon noticing Icespear’s sour mood. “Icespear, can’t you look a little happier?”
Icespear glared up at him. “Why?”
“Look, you’re pretending to be a Christmas elf,” Mark pointed out. “Not Krampus.”
Icespear squinted her eyes. “Who?”
“Ugh, never mind. Look, just… try to smile, please? It’s for the children. See?” Mark showed a toothy grin to make his point.
“Is this better?” Icespear stretched her cheeks, trying mimic Mark’s toothy smile.
“Oh god, not like that!” Mark urged her. “You look like Willem Dafoe’s worst- ugh, look just forget it. Don’t smile. You do you.”
Icespear dropped her smile and followed her comrades to the plaza.
=== (+) ===
It was dusk. The human children hopped with excitement as a familiar figure clad in red approached the plaza. Though the Loroi children understood this particular ritual was merely stagecraft, they still partook in the fun.
The guests chuckled with perplexity at the comical display of Santa Claus and his twelve Loroi and human helpers carrying their sacks of gifts. Even more comical was the red skirts the females of both races seemed to sport.
“Ho! Ho! Ho!” Santa hollered, waving with a big smile under his beard. “Merry Christmas! We come bringing gifts for all the good children.”
>Strange how Sasha’s Trade seems to improve when he impersonates Santa Claus,< thought Twoface, refitting her red cap.
>Or maybe he just remembered his dialogue well,< Weaver pointed out.
Santa dug into his suck and fished out a wrapped gift, checking the name on the package. “Amy! I have a wonderful gift for you.”
Amy squealed with joy. Her respective caregiver allowed her to run up to Santa to fetch her gift. She rewarded Santa with a hug before running back to show off her gift to her peers.
Santa pulled the next gift. “Veil! This is for you.”
Little Veil came forward to accept her gift. She bowed and said, “Thank you, Sasha who is pretending to be Santa Claus.”
A few of Santa’s helpers laughed at the obvious observation. One by one children were called forward by Santa and his helpers to receive presents. Servants rushed to the scene to help clear away scraps of present paper as some children simply couldn’t wait to unveil their gifts.
The adult warriors, still strangers to this bizarre human tradition, simply watched with baffled amusement.
Arclight, watching alongside her comrades, remarked, >How strange.<
Stormrage agreed, >I’ve seen dramaturgy practiced among Neridi and Arreka before. But nothing like this.<
Ashrain chuckled, taking a sip of wine. >Wait till you see their movies.<
>Movies?<
>Fictional recordings humans have made mostly for entertainment purposes. And they got plenty. Usually with a duration of one to two digels each.<
>Really? How many?< Stormrage asked.
Ashrain thought back, >If I remember correctly, there could be about a million or more.<
Stormrage nearly spat out her wine. >That many?! Just how much do these humans waste on fake nonsense?<
Ashrain rolled her eyes to heaven, taking another swig. >A lot.<
>Have you watched any of these fictional recordings?< Arclight asked.
>Just a few. Not all of them are outright falsehoods. And some are mildly entertaining.<
After the children received their gifts, Santa’s helpers reached for the untouched bags and began taking out more handheld gifts. Servants came to help as the tiny presents were put on trays and distributed among the visitors. The aliens, warriors and Nedatans were puzzled yet flattered by the little trinkets they were given. Some received glass doves. Some received golden silhouettes of infants playing trumpets or winged humanoids. Some received golden pentagrams. Some received whistles. Some received silver bells with red bows. Some received tiny wooden dolls painted in elaborate designs, surprised to find even smaller wooden dolls hiding within. Some traded with each other.
Greywind felt the assembly radiate with curiosity and joy. She was surprised when a few human adults and children approach the Emperor with a tiny box topped with a red ribbon.
Greywind did not hide her perplexed expression. “What is this?”
“For you, Emperor” little Katniss said, offering the gift on behalf of her peers.
The old Emperor accepted the tiny box. She opened the lid. Her gift was a mechanism in the form of what appeared to be a comb of metal prongs resting against a cylinder with random protrusions littering its surface. Outside the box was a little crank. Deducing that the crank was meant to be turned, she did just that. What followed was a series of gentle, rhythmic dings sounding off every time the metal prongs brushed against the cylinder’s protrusions. Not a symphony worthy of an Emperor. But pleasantly quaint.
“Oh,” said Beverly, rushing up to the Emperor’s attendant. “And of course we didn’t forget about you, Miss Link.”
Attendant Link accepted a silver comb made with the aid of the creche’s local Gallens. Link pressed a thoughtful finger to her lips as she looked the beautiful piece of craftsmanship over. “Thank you, friends,” she said with a timid grin.
“Yes,” said Greywind. “Thank you. Thank you all.”
The little humans surrounded Greywind, trapping their warden and second mother in a great embrace. A few human adults voiced their flattery.
“Aw!”
“How sweet.”
“Oh, isn’t that just cute?”
Amidst the humans’ adorations, and even some of the Loroi’s, Greywind noticed some distance away her own mother. Rainlash stood and watched Greywind, taking an occasional sip of Deinarid wine. The old Loroi didn’t smile. She didn’t scowl. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t taunt or signal. She didn’t express sadness, displeasure or joy. She just stood passively, sipping her wine and watched.
Loathing feelings threatened to burst forth, but the old Emperor tamed the flames, focusing instead back on the tenderness offered by her wards and children. Greywind had no idea if Rainlash meant to provoke her daughter to anger with her presence, but Greywind did not let it bother her. Rainlash had no power over her. Not for a long time. She was free to do as she pleased as long as she caused no offense.
Greywind sent out a command to summon the choir. Within minutes, Sister Judith and her choir of humans and Loroi assembled in front of the plaza’s Christmas tree. Each singer carried booklet. The choir bowed. Silence came over the assembled guests, save for the occasional grunt or whisper as they wondered what this next human ritual entailed.
Sister Judith curtsied before addressing the assembly, “Welcome one and all. We have for you all tonight another great gift. The gift of music. The first song you are about to hear is an old Christmas carol thought to have been composed more than six centuries ago. And while this music has its roots in spiritual worship, music is not reserved for religious individuals. It is a gift made for all to hear.”
The guests processed the old nun’s words with mixed responses ranging from intrigue to nonchalance. Sister Judith turned to her choir. Holding up her hands, she waved in rhythmic motion, signaling girls, boys, men and women to prepare. Hands opened booklets as each participant turned to the page of their first song.
The old nun silently mouthed, “And one… two…”
The chant began:
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Tempus ad est gratiae hoc quod optabamus,
Carmina laetitiae devote redamus.
Gaudete, gaudete Christos est natus
Ex Maria virginae, gaudete.
Every alien, every Loroi was speechless as the medieval Gaudete flooded their ears, making hairs stand on end in ecstasy as Latin serenades washed over them. The Loroi were not strangers to vocal harmonizing, but this chant was transcendental. Fertile Spring hid his shuttering lips with his hand as the song overwhelmed him. He had listened to plenty of recorded music hailing from Terran culture, but none could compare to the beautiful sounds that drowned out all else in that moment. He and a few of his brethren struggled not to weep for joy. Even Sage Glory stood like a statue, his gaze fixed on the choir.
Io, who had never heard a song before, wiped her bleary eyes as her ears were bombarded by the alien sounds. So this is what a song sounds like, she thought. She still missed her parents, wishing they could be here with her. But she was happy knowing she had a home here with her new human and alien friends.
Icespear forgot momentarily the embarrassing burden of being a Christmas elf and crossed her arms, admiring Gaudete. >Now this Christmas ritual I like.<
>Enchanting, even for a scientist,< Weaver agreed.
Twoface stood by her friends as they admired humans and Loroi chanting together. She saw some of the caregivers and servants on duty holding the infants. Including Dawn. Even from a distance, Dawn managed to pick out Twoface, offering a smile. A smile that made this holiday only merrier for Twoface.
Judith’s choir went on to grace their guests with more chants of “Silent Night,” “Go Tell it on the Mountain,” “Oh Hanukkah,” and many others.
Last edited by Snoofman on Sun Apr 07, 2024 2:39 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Re: A Chorus of Stars
Author’s note: When I’m writing these chapters, I occasionally have conflicting ideas of how particular scenes should play out. There have been moments where I wrote out entire chapters that seemed okay, but something (something abstractly hard to put into words) about such chapters did not sit well with me and I ended up deleting entire segments to start again. I have a lot of ideas that I want to put down on paper… or digital page in this case. In this chapter I thought of having some extended conversations between certain characters, but I want the story to move along smoothly. In hindsight the lengthy chapters I wrote were written because the chapter felt incomplete otherwise. But I’d like to think that I am intelligibly trimming down chapters while still making a compelling story. Though only you the reader can decide whether or not my stories are compelling enough to read.
Hence why I welcome constructive criticism. Not merely your positive feedback that keeps me ever motivated to write on. I write because it’s fun and mentally stimulating.
I hope you enjoy!
-
XIII - Coffee and Pizza
=== (+) ===
For the next few days the Loroi celebrated. On Christmas Day, a shuttle took seventeen children old enough to travel to visit their incarcerated parents residing in Ieba's prison. They would return within five standard days. Not all of the children were interested in seeing their pirate parents and so remained on the island.
During the daylight hours, the Loroi further celebrated with feasting, songs, games and competitions. Some guests, especially those who had not met the Emperor’s wards, were anxious to enjoy their human company. The older children were invited to demonstrate their prowess in lishranen, staff combat and battle simulators. Watching human children fight in competitions amused a great many Loroi. They laughed when the less skilled humans were beaten easily by their Loroi counterparts. But were taken aback when the more proficient human wards tore down their Loroi competitors. A few even managed to hold their ground against a few young graduates.
Some of the human adults also sparred with the Loroi. Sasha showcased his strength when tested against the mental push of a Teidar. Patrix arm-wrestled with a Loroi upon request. Beverly intrigued Loroi when showing off her golf swings, inviting them to give it a try. A few Loroi swung well. Most free frustrated with the boring Terran sport, failing to see the appeal of making a ball fly long distance with a clumsy club.
The fourth day was spoiled by intense rains brought in by unexpected winds. Fortunately weather prognosis predicted the rains to stop by the fifth day of celebrations. Loroi passed the time by striking up conversation with each other or being entertained by their human hosts. Some crowded the mansions while others retired early for the trimarans.
For the evening, the Loroi would retire to the guest house or the trimarans anchored offshore. The Nedatans were permitted to remain for the twelve days of celebration. The menfolk were curious to interact more with the human inhabitants, but were forced to lodge on the trimarans. As per tradition, many guests returning from their completed trials were granted exclusive nights with the Nedatans.
On that note, quite a few Loroi invited a few humans off-duty to join them in their buoyant accommodations. Especially a few civilian guests whom were curious to explore human anatomy in all its wonder. The civilian Viscounts and Guild Masters were amazed to learn just how warm humans were. For a Loroi to experience intimacy without sanzai seemed an alien concept, and yet it could be done with a human.
Loroi were beginning to gossip about their intimate experiences with these humans, sometimes earning themselves a few disapproving remarks from warriors not enthralled by the idea of xenophylia. Those entertaining the idea of getting intimate with one of the smaller human males were immediately shot down. Still the civilians eagerly invited the human men every evening. While not every men accepted the invitation, it certainly made quite a few human women jealous.
Patrix was one such male enjoying the intimate company of Loroi warriors and civilians. He had gone through two Soroins, a Listel and surprised the Viscount of Menelos with his amorous knowledge. The Proxi-Irish was even invited by Torrai Diaderet Peridot aboard the Diaderets' trimaran, anxious to take care of an arrangement. The old Councilor promised Patrix four bags of authentic coffee in exchange for a service. He resolved to satisfy the elder Loroi with a massage. Since physical touch amplified the telepathic link, acupressure was not common practice among Loroi. If there was one benefit to a constant lotai, it was the fact that Loroi could enjoy a massage without the burden of a human’s cognitive baggage. The residents and guests of the creche were intrigued by this unique form of therapy. While many were still awkward with touch, Loroi were often quick to forget their initial discomfort after having their muscles massaged by warm hands.
Peridot moaned delightfully as Patrix administered his cramp-relieving touch. After massaging Peridot for little under an hour, Patrix meant to simply take his coffee and leave. But the elder was not yet satisfied, reminding the Proxi-Irish of their actual agreement as she ordered him to bed.
Patrix could always refuse but knew it unwise to upset a Loroi. Besides, a bargain was a bargain.
He woke up the next morning, his throat dry and itchy. The room’s air was chilled. He had hogged the blanket to stay warm while Peridot slept with her back turned to him, her three-hundred and seventy-nine year old celeste skin free for all to see. The old Diaderet was not bad looking in Patrix’s eyes. Peridot was blessed with a slender form. Her narrow hips were not as curvaceous as Patrix liked in women, but the ripped outlines of slender muscles compensated for this. Even for an old blue elf, Peridot was in good shape. Her spiky mane of lime-colored hair added to her exoticness. The only thing Patrix did not like was her face. Peridot was not ugly. She was just old. The early signs of bagged eyes and jowls sullied her otherwise flawless features.
Hence his reluctance to lay with her. But now it was done. Chilled atmosphere stung his skin as Patrix threw the blanket off. Rushing to get his underwear and pants on stirred Peridot from her sleep.
The elder groaned, arching her back. Her dark purple eyes opened. “Do you seem to be in a hurry?” Peridot asked.
“It’s bloody cold,” said Patrix, fixing the belt on his pants. “Also got to get back to the creche grounds. I got work today.”
Peridot sat up, popping a few joints as she rotated her neck. “That was a wonderful experience, Patrix Fitzburke” she referred to last night. “I have mounted a few humans before. But none of them could hammer as hard as you.”
Patrix cocked an eyebrow in Peridot’s direction. “I think it was you who did the most hammering.”
Peridot chuckled, stretching her arms up.
“I, uh, hope your fellow Councilors don’t give you hell for this?”
“Hell?”
“I mean trouble. I hear not all of the Council likes us humans.”
Peridot got out of bed, reaching for her suit. “For a Diaderet to breed with a human is frowned upon. But not forbidden. As long as our personal activities do not jeopardize our duties, it is acceptable.” Pushing her legs and arms into her sleeves, Peridot closed the suit’s sealant. “My compatriots can shit in a boot if they do not approve.”
Patrix chuckled as he pulled his shirt down over his chest. “Nice to know Loroi can talk slang.”
Peridot reached for her robe. “Colloquialism is not so alien a concept. You intrigue me, Patrix Fitzburke. I am surprised that you have not fathered any children.”
Patrix shrugged, pulling on his jacket. “Eh, I’ve had little luck with human women on Proxima.”
“Not even with the human females here?”
“Well… there is one woman here who has my attention.” He was reluctant to name Calista.
“Why not ask her if she wants to copulate?” Peridot asked. “Whoever you seem drawn to, I am sure you both would make fine prodigy. And I am confident the Emperor would be happy to accommodate your child into her creche.”
Patrix had no desire to go into the lengthy history of human marriage, nuclear families and the difficulties of modern courtship. He just said, “It’s complicated. Plus she might not be comfortable with it.”
This surprised Peridot. “Why not? Even by Loroi standards, you are a handsome specimen.”
Patrix was not sure what she meant by ‘specimen’, but shrugged it off. “Let’s just say pursuing human women is no easy feat.”
“Ah, yes. I have heard many stories about human sexual pursuit and pair-bonding. How strange human males are forced to compete for a female’s affections. Even stranger that bonded pairs insist on raising their children alone. I can only imagine the strenuous inefficiency humans suffer from such arrangements.”
“Damn right,” said Patrix, swinging the pack with his coffee over his shoulder. “Your little blue men don’t know how good they have it.”
Peridot laughed. “That seems ironic. Many of our menfolk envy human males for their liberties.” She walked up to Patrix, resting her hands on his hips. “I do not understand the reasoning behind all human customs. And it seems pointless to argue over them. I will instead offer friendly advice: there could be other ways.” She pressed her pelvis against his. “And if you ever need another favor, I may be able to provide.”
Patrix fought against the arousal in his pants. “Well, I don’t suppose you could get me more coffee.”
“That coffee you carry was not easy to come by,” said Peridot. “And sanctions make trading with the Terrans more difficult. I can make no promises. But if I manage to return with more coffee, regardless if you decide to follow through with your… local pursuits… remember this: my sheath will be expecting your blade. And I will accept no refusal.”
“Fair enough, your excellency.”
“I would arrange for a boat to take you to shore,” said Peridot, releasing Patrix. “But it seems they are already ferrying guests back to the island. Perhaps I will see you later during festivities.”
The door slid open and shut as Patrix exited into the halls of the trimaran. How opportune it was still early morning. Hopefully he could sneak the coffee into his private quarters without seeming conspicuous since most residents would still be in bed.
He froze as he unexpectedly ran into Noah in the hallway of the trimaran.
“Pat?” Noah said, just as surprised to see his colleague aboard.
“Noah! What are you doing here?” Patrix asked.
“I… could ask you the same thing.” Noah took note of the pack on the Proxi-Irish man’s back. “Whatcha’ got there?”
“Empty beer cans,” Patrix lied. “The, uh, Loroi I spent the night with told me to clean up. You know how picky these elves can be.”
“You really are Irish, ain’t ya’? So, uh, who was the lucky elf this time?”
“Councilor Peridot.”
That surprised Noah. “A little old, wouldn’t you say?”
Patrix shrugged, his nonchalant mask seemingly working. “She’s got some nice… assets.”
Noah cocked an eyebrow. “Ooo-kay then.”
“Don’t judge me,” Patrix exaggerated his irritation. “Who did you screw around with last night? I thought you weren’t interested in Loroi women.”
“I’m not,” said Noah. “I was invited… by Nedatan Timadi Rain.”
“Wait. You mean… the Seer with the white mullet?!” Patrix was not sure if he ought to be surprised or mortified. “Did you two-”
“We just sampled wine!” Noah’s tone turned defensive. “With Councilor Second Claw. We had wine. Blue wine. Deinarid…. blue wine.”
“I thought you didn’t drink.”
“I don’t,” Noah reply was quick. “I just… tasted it… and then spat it out.”
“So… that’s it then?”
“Yes,” said Noah, his tone stiff. “Rain and Second Claw invited me to sample some wine. And other stuff. Food stuffs.” He added after a few seconds of awkward silence. “And… it was good.”
Patrix forced his head to nod. “Uh-huh. Yay. Yeah, tuigim. I hear ye'.”
The two men walked in awkward silence to the boat that would take them back to shore.
Noah squinted at Patrix as the Proxi-Irish chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Noah asked.
“Sorry,” Patrix grunted. “It’s just… heh… just thinking about Rain reminded me of something my dad once shared with me.”
“Which was?”
Patrix grinned at the memory of his youth on Proxima. “My father once said, ‘never trust a man with a mullet.’”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh up yours.”
“I believe that’s your department, Noah.”
Noah added, “With turpentine.”
=== (+) ===
By midday the skies were clear again of cloud cover. The Loroi carried on with their celebratory games and songs.
On the matter of songs, Fertile Spring decided to impress the residents of the island that morning, particularly the humans, with some of his original compositions. One such composition he played with his string-box, a Loroi instrument bearing much resemblance to a hurdy-gurdy. Played by pressing a series of keys reverberating against strings and small pipes while turning a crank on one end, producing a mesmerizing tune that strangely sounded more like a small pipe organ than a violin.
His music had attracted a mob of spectators in the gardens, especially the young Loroi and human girls.
Sarah lay on her stomach, her chin propped up on her palms as she kicked her feet slowly in rhythm with Spring’s music.
Glad, who lay right beside Sarah, recognized that infatuated look. Leaning in close to her friend, she whispered, “See something you like?”
“Yeah,” the word rolled out slowly of Sarah’s lips.
A wicked grin stretched on Glad’s face. She leaned in closer and asked, “Want to breed?”
“Yeah.” It took a few seconds for Sarah to realize her mistake. “Wha- I mean no!”
“Shh!” Caregiver Han hushed the children. She was enjoying her day off along with Spring’s music.
Glad giggled. “Sarah, you are easy to fool,” she whispered.
“Buttface,” Sarah silently snarled.
“Tail-wag,” Glad quietly shot back. “Not bad for a blue hobbit, is he?”
“Sometimes I think you’re more human than Loroi,” Sarah pointed out.
“I guess your human habits have… how does one say… rubbed on me?”
Sarah shook her head, trying to focus on Spring’s composition. “Stop being so weird, Glad.”
“It’s Gladstone.”
“Whatever.”
Fertile Spring finished his song. The surrounding humans applauded. As did a few Loroi who had grown up with the custom. Spring smiled, flattered by the praise for his music.
“That was beautiful, Spring,” said Calista, walking up to the Nedatan.
“It is proper to address the honored Nedatan as Tiret,” Spring’s Detair said sternly, standing protectively by his side.
“Please, Thorn,” Spring urged his Detair. “No need for formalities. It is alright.”
A servant announced the feasting tables were served and ready.
“Miss Calista,” said Spring, setting his instrument down. “I hear you come from the Terran colony Esperanza. I have always been fascinated by alien cultures. Perhaps you would like to share the details of your former home as we dine.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t want to hear about Esperanza,” Calista said bashfully. “It’s a boring colony world.”
“No story is boring,” Spring insisted, rising from his seat.
Calista blushed. “Well… if you insist.”
>Tiret, what about your string-box?< sent Thorn.
>My string-box isn’t going anywhere,< Spring sent back.
>Tiret, please refrain from getting too intimate with the human,< Thorn advised. >Since humans have no sanzai, she might misinterpret your gestures. The Cardinal would not approve.<
>Mogin, stop ruining my fun,< Spring brushed off her warnings, walking happily by Calista’s side to the feasting tables, admiring her beauty and other assets.
“Stars,” said Glad, happening to see flashes of Spring’s lust from her spot.
“What?” Sarah asked, rising to her feet.
“I think there is a new xenophile among us,” Glad answered, rising with her friend. They followed the crowd to the feast.
It took Sarah a few seconds to catch onto Glad’s meaning. “Wait! You mean… Spring likes Calista?”
“Isn’t it obvious? All the Nedatans have been interested in her.”
“Let me guess. Is it her boobs?”
“Yes. You are not jealous, are you?”
“Ew, no. Why would I want big boobs?”
“I was talking about Fertile Spring. I have learnt that human females become aggressive when competing for a particular male they want.”
Sarah blushed. “What?! No! That’s… ridiculous.”
“But you do like him,” Glad teased. “Even without sanzai, I can tell. Would you breed with him?”
“Dude!” Sarah swatted Glad’s stomach. “I’m ten.”
“Not now, of course,” Glad laughed. “But eventually. Would you consider it?”
Sarah thought it over. “Well… he is cute. Just… maybe. But it’s Kassad I really want when I’m older.”
“I will never understand the logic of human pair-bonding.”
“Anyway, what about you?”
“I cannot conceive children with Kassad. But, when we are both old enough, I could imagine us coupling for fun.”
“Fascinating,” said Sarah. “I was talking about Spring.”
It was Glad’s turn to be taken aback. “What?! Gross! Spring is blood kin.”
“You were talking about linebreeding the other day and saying it’s okay.”
“I said it is acceptable to some,” Glad corrected her friend. “Spring is… handsome… but I would never lie with him.”
Sarah giggled and sang a parody of the Weather Girls:
“It’s Spring and Glad, hallelujah!
They’re going to go out!
And then both get
absolutely soaking wet!”
“You are awful,” Glad muttered.
The feasting tables were ready. But servants and cooks came forward with covered round platters. The human children hopped anxiously to see what special treat the servants suddenly brought out to the buffets.
Andre thought it fitting to present it in person, “Presenting from our kitchen… made from wheat and tomatoes grown deep under the ground you stand on… with mozzarella grown in lab cultures by brilliant minds… with the help of the best cooks and the only French chef on Deinar.”
Children gasped for joy as the servants uncovered dozens of large, steaming pies.
Andre didn’t have time to formally present as a few young, native Earthlings cried out, “Pizza!”
Mobs of youngsters rushed to the buffets for a slice followed by their human elders who showed more patience. Loroi eyed the food suspiciously, even the dairy-free substitutes made specifically for their consumption. But were pleasantly surprised by the unique flavors of this alien food.
At one of the tables Arclight was shocked when Ashrain joined her with a slice of pizza. And not the dairy free alternative.
Arclight tried not to let the sight of the animal milk food disturb her lovely meal of miros steak. >Are you sure that stuff is sanitary?<
>No one’s died yet,< Ashrain sent back, taking a bite, tearing strings of lab mozzarella from her slice. >I need some exotic taste to distract me from this headache.<
>Well, maybe you should drink less alcohol then,< sent Arclight.
>I didn’t drink that much! Stop harassing me. You’re ruining my meal.<
Arclight squinted at the alien food in her kin’s hands. >How can you eat that?<
>We’re explorers,< Ashrain pointed out as she chewed. >We were taught from a young age to try alien cooking. Greywind included.<
>Wait! Even Greywind has tried that?!< Arclight pointed at the pizza.
Ashrain swallowed. >Apparently.<
>I admire our sire’s fortitude. But I will never agree with Perreinid eating habits.<
>Coming from one who has Perreinid ancestry?<
Arclight sliced off a bit of her steak with her knife. >Even if I were more Perreinid than Deinarid, I still don’t think I could stomach it.< She stuffed the steak bit into her mouth with her poker.
Stormrage entered their range along with a few warriors, approaching their table along with three boys. Ben, Qi and Idaho impressed their new admirers with babble and smiles. Every now and then Ben waved his arms, jabbing his hands as if demonstrating a fighting technique. Stormrage seemed to drink up his every word with an amused grin of her own. Some of the high-ranking Loroi laughed at some joke Qi seemed to be telling.
>Nice to see that our kin seem to enjoy these humans’ company,< Arclight commented, taking another bite of steak.
>It seems reassuring in spite of current tensions with the Terrans,< Ashrain agreed. >Though I think Stormrage seems to fancy Ben.<
Arclight was not enthralled by the idea of human copulation. >I could picture a Listel going down that lane to satisfy her insatiable curiosities. But I never thought a former Mizol would entertain the idea.<
>Well, Perreinids are certainly daring when it comes to sampling alien things,< Ashrain sent suggestively.
>Don’t ruin my appetite.<
Ashrain’s chuckle was barely audible.
“Hello, friends,” said Stormrage. She employed spoken speech as she joined her kin. “Boys, sit with us.”
“Just a moment,” said Ben. “I want to try that pizza.”
“Me too,” said Qi.
“Me three,” Idaho agreed.
“Please sit, Ben,” a Soroin Torret insisted. “I will bring you a plate of the pee-za food.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” said Ben. The Loroi insisted. “That’s very nice of you.”
Two other commanders offered to fetch food for Qi and Idaho.
Ben looked to the rest of his high-ranking friends seated at the table and shrugged. “Being a male has its advantages.”
“Don’t let it make you conceited, little boy,” said Ashrain, taking another bite of pizza.
“We can’t help it if everyone think’s we’re cute,” Idaho said with a grin.
Stormrage and the warriors laughed.
>Conceited indeed,< sent Arclight. She took another bite of steak.
“It is fortunate that the weather has improved,” Stormrage commented. “Though the boys have graciously kept us entertained yesterday. We sparred together in the arena. For young males, these boys are certainly formidable fighters. After that we decided to play some games indoors.” She touched Ben’s shoulder. “It was wonderful.”
Ashrain thought she heard a suggestive tone in Stormrage’s voice. >You didn’t!<
>Relax! Nothing inappropriate.< Stormrage carried on, “They boys introduced us to some Terran games. Strange but very invigorating. After that we were invited by more of their friends and a few of our kin to watch a fictional recording called Dune.”
“What is Dune?” Arclight asked.
“Dune is about-” Ben was cut off as the Torret returned with a slice of pizza, taking a seat to enjoy her own dish. “Thank you. Anyway, Dune takes place in a fictional universe of an interstellar empire…”
Ben went on to explain how, in this fictional setting, the empire thrived on a highly valued substance called spice. A drug meant to enhance human cognitive functions. The movie focused primarily on a family of powerful feudalists called House Atreides assigned by their own emperor to oversee the production of spice, only to be sabotaged and overthrown by a rival clan called the Harkonnens. What baffled the Loroi was that this fictional interstellar empire employed close-quarters combat with swords and daggers.
“That makes absolutely no sense,” said Arclight, struggling to understand how these non-existing humans reasoned in their non-existing universe. “Why would an interstellar civilization with a technological level slightly higher than our own employ primitive weaponry?”
“They actually have a good explanation for that,” said Qi amidst his chewing of his pizza. “Like Union spaceships, the humans in Dune have shields both for ships and for individual warriors. The only difference is that their shields can only block high velocity projectiles. They can’t stop a blade if it moves slow enough.”
Arclight squinted. “That makes even less sense.”
“The story’s understanding of physics may not have been entirely accurate,” said Stormrage, “but it was a mildly entertaining experience. The story was filled with political intrigue, scheming, diplomatic exchanges, epic battles and eluding gigantic beasts swimming beneath sandy landscapes reminiscent of the dunes of Mezan. I was particularly intrigued by the Bene Gesserit order and their ability to influence target minds. An intriguing skill that they call the Voice. Apparently this Bene Gesserit order could hypnotize a target mind by modulating their vocal subtleties to override conscious thought. Compelling a target mind into obedience.”
“You mean like a Mizol’s ability to influence?” The idea disturbed some at the table.
A Listel’s laughter caught their attention. “Ironic, isn’t it, comrades? The idea of a vocal command controlling us seems daunting. Yet as servants of the military, we are indoctrinated to obey vocal commands over far distances.”
“Greetings, Listel Weaver,” said Ashrain.
“I am pleased to see you again, Mazeit Ashrain,” Weaver said with a smile.
“Listel Weaver, have you also participated in the human fiction rituals?” Arclight hoped not.
“I have. Humanity’s ability to make convincing illusions with real materials and digital illustrations outperforms any other sapients’ mastery of stagecraft.”
“But as a scientist, don’t you think fiction seems pointless?”
“Some of it is,” Weaver admitted. “But my time with the humans here has enlightened me about human culture. Including the practical role of fiction.”
“How could fiction possibly be practical?”
Ashrain swallowed her last bite and explained, “Remember our conversation from the shuttle? Humans used fiction as a way of indirectly confronting tyranny and injustice. But it has also been used as a tool for creating awareness and spreading new ideas.”
“Even if such things work for humans,” Arclight’s tone was skeptical, “aren’t the creche staff concerned that fiction could confuse our youth?”
“Certainly,” Weaver confirmed. “A few Loroi like Stonewill are openly opposed to fiction. But the humans convinced the Emperor and some of the staff how fiction, if used correctly, can not only develop humans’ creative abilities, but make education more desirable. It compels them to think. Not only that, but human fiction has even predicted the eventual creation of certain technologies. Some human inventions were even inspired by fiction. For all its falsity, fiction has the potential to drive creativity as well as ingenuity. For example, in the Dune fiction, the warriors developed shields for ships as well as for individual warriors. Essentially creating personal force screens.”
Arclight scoffed, “The idea that a shield can only stop high-velocity objects but not slow moving ones is ridiculous. Even more laughable is the proposition that such a technology would compel an interstellar civilization to resort to swords and daggers to wage warfare.”
“True,” Weaver agreed. “But the idea that we can equip individual warriors with personal force screens is intriguing. Even now there are scientists conducting research in the hopes of developing such a technology one day. And the idea that vocal commands can affect us both consciously and subconsciously is not so farfetched. Even if fiction was not good for our mental development, there is another reason why the Emperor encourages Loroi youth to be exposed to it. To remind them that it’s fake.”
“As if it were not obvious enough,” Stormrage pointed out.
“Not to untrained eyes,” said Weaver. “Humans have an abundance of digital and literary information. There are two kinds of information that outweigh factual information available to the Terran public. Fiction and junk data.”
“Listel Weaver, what’s junk data?” Idaho asked.
“Junk data is information that serves no real purpose. Our warrior society has built an infrastructure and culture dedicated to broadcasting facts. Our intelligence agencies and scientific institutions would be compromised otherwise. But some organizations have a tendency of keeping lots of junk information. Some of it is not necessarily false. But mostly useless data that is kept in case it serves a future purpose. Since Loroi are typically very literal, it can be easy for them to be mislead by archives of junk information. It can confound even our most skilled intelligence analysts.”
“Then why allow it at all?” Arclight asked.
Weaver explained, “One cannot purge society of junk data. It’s impossible. What is important to a Barsam may be irrelevant to a Loroi. What an Arreka finds intriguing may seem tedious to a human. It’s all a matter of perspective. Civilization’s will accumulate junk data. But one can learn how to differentiate true information from false. Relevant data from irrelevant.”
“The scientist makes a good point,” said Stormrage. “As a former Sentinel, we were often overwhelmed with too much information. Over the years, new subcastes among analysts and intelligence specialists have been introduced to distribute the workload. New departments had to be created to categorize and process oceans of information across the Command and Control Network.”
“That I can understand,” said Arclight. “But, Listel, do you really think teaching fiction to our youth can improve their analytical abilities?”
“At the very least it reminds them that not everything they see and hear is trustworthy,” said Weaver. “In fact, the human and Loroi children are encouraged to do research and ask questions regarding their fictional interests. To develop critical thinking and their ability to discern fact from falsehood. It all comes down to how we interpret information. Fiction may be whimsical, but it compels us to ask if it could be true.”
Arclight was not entirely convinced. “I still think it a wasted effort.”
“At least it’s fun,” Idaho said with a shrug.
“Yeah, and some of it makes for a good laugh,” Ben chipped in.
“What do you mean?” Arclight asked.
Ben tried thinking of an example. He remembered one Patrix introduced to the elder children. “Have you ever heard of Monty Python?”
The Loroi offered quizzical looks.
Seeing they had no tablet on hand, Ben pulled Idaho and Qi from the table.
“You guys still remember the Camelot song?” Ben asked.
“Only watched it like a hundred times,” said Idaho.
“Great! Then let’s dance.”
Idaho stopped them, “Wait! The English version or the Trade dub?”
“Trade first then English version.”
“But I want to get more pizza,” Qi whined.
“Okay, look, we’ll dance first then we’ll have more pizza with toppings,” said Ben.
Qi agreed, “Yes.”
“Oh, but no toppings,” Idaho objected.
Ben groaned, “No toppings then. Whatever! Let’s just dance!”
“Right!”
Ben announced, “Let us ride to Camelot!”
The Loroi at the table were baffled as the three human boys began singing about absolute nonsense. They boasted being warriors with allegiances to a round table whilst indulging in singing, dancing and enjoying Terran foods that were beyond the Loroi’s comprehension. Their clumsy footwork and lack of choreographic grace drew the attention of some Loroi and nearby humans, curious about the commotion. A few more boys and girls, having remembered this dance of silly walks and waving hands, joined in the fun much to the Loroi’s bemusement.
The young chorus further surprised their Loroi spectators as they jumped up onto one of the tables to sing in English. A few caregivers on duty rushed over, yelling at the kids to come down. It wasn’t until the children joined arms to shoulders, kicking up their legs in sync as they sang, “Our shows are formidable,” that the Loroi burst into uncontrolled fits of laughter.
Hence why I welcome constructive criticism. Not merely your positive feedback that keeps me ever motivated to write on. I write because it’s fun and mentally stimulating.
I hope you enjoy!
-
XIII - Coffee and Pizza
=== (+) ===
For the next few days the Loroi celebrated. On Christmas Day, a shuttle took seventeen children old enough to travel to visit their incarcerated parents residing in Ieba's prison. They would return within five standard days. Not all of the children were interested in seeing their pirate parents and so remained on the island.
During the daylight hours, the Loroi further celebrated with feasting, songs, games and competitions. Some guests, especially those who had not met the Emperor’s wards, were anxious to enjoy their human company. The older children were invited to demonstrate their prowess in lishranen, staff combat and battle simulators. Watching human children fight in competitions amused a great many Loroi. They laughed when the less skilled humans were beaten easily by their Loroi counterparts. But were taken aback when the more proficient human wards tore down their Loroi competitors. A few even managed to hold their ground against a few young graduates.
Some of the human adults also sparred with the Loroi. Sasha showcased his strength when tested against the mental push of a Teidar. Patrix arm-wrestled with a Loroi upon request. Beverly intrigued Loroi when showing off her golf swings, inviting them to give it a try. A few Loroi swung well. Most free frustrated with the boring Terran sport, failing to see the appeal of making a ball fly long distance with a clumsy club.
The fourth day was spoiled by intense rains brought in by unexpected winds. Fortunately weather prognosis predicted the rains to stop by the fifth day of celebrations. Loroi passed the time by striking up conversation with each other or being entertained by their human hosts. Some crowded the mansions while others retired early for the trimarans.
For the evening, the Loroi would retire to the guest house or the trimarans anchored offshore. The Nedatans were permitted to remain for the twelve days of celebration. The menfolk were curious to interact more with the human inhabitants, but were forced to lodge on the trimarans. As per tradition, many guests returning from their completed trials were granted exclusive nights with the Nedatans.
On that note, quite a few Loroi invited a few humans off-duty to join them in their buoyant accommodations. Especially a few civilian guests whom were curious to explore human anatomy in all its wonder. The civilian Viscounts and Guild Masters were amazed to learn just how warm humans were. For a Loroi to experience intimacy without sanzai seemed an alien concept, and yet it could be done with a human.
Loroi were beginning to gossip about their intimate experiences with these humans, sometimes earning themselves a few disapproving remarks from warriors not enthralled by the idea of xenophylia. Those entertaining the idea of getting intimate with one of the smaller human males were immediately shot down. Still the civilians eagerly invited the human men every evening. While not every men accepted the invitation, it certainly made quite a few human women jealous.
Patrix was one such male enjoying the intimate company of Loroi warriors and civilians. He had gone through two Soroins, a Listel and surprised the Viscount of Menelos with his amorous knowledge. The Proxi-Irish was even invited by Torrai Diaderet Peridot aboard the Diaderets' trimaran, anxious to take care of an arrangement. The old Councilor promised Patrix four bags of authentic coffee in exchange for a service. He resolved to satisfy the elder Loroi with a massage. Since physical touch amplified the telepathic link, acupressure was not common practice among Loroi. If there was one benefit to a constant lotai, it was the fact that Loroi could enjoy a massage without the burden of a human’s cognitive baggage. The residents and guests of the creche were intrigued by this unique form of therapy. While many were still awkward with touch, Loroi were often quick to forget their initial discomfort after having their muscles massaged by warm hands.
Peridot moaned delightfully as Patrix administered his cramp-relieving touch. After massaging Peridot for little under an hour, Patrix meant to simply take his coffee and leave. But the elder was not yet satisfied, reminding the Proxi-Irish of their actual agreement as she ordered him to bed.
Patrix could always refuse but knew it unwise to upset a Loroi. Besides, a bargain was a bargain.
He woke up the next morning, his throat dry and itchy. The room’s air was chilled. He had hogged the blanket to stay warm while Peridot slept with her back turned to him, her three-hundred and seventy-nine year old celeste skin free for all to see. The old Diaderet was not bad looking in Patrix’s eyes. Peridot was blessed with a slender form. Her narrow hips were not as curvaceous as Patrix liked in women, but the ripped outlines of slender muscles compensated for this. Even for an old blue elf, Peridot was in good shape. Her spiky mane of lime-colored hair added to her exoticness. The only thing Patrix did not like was her face. Peridot was not ugly. She was just old. The early signs of bagged eyes and jowls sullied her otherwise flawless features.
Hence his reluctance to lay with her. But now it was done. Chilled atmosphere stung his skin as Patrix threw the blanket off. Rushing to get his underwear and pants on stirred Peridot from her sleep.
The elder groaned, arching her back. Her dark purple eyes opened. “Do you seem to be in a hurry?” Peridot asked.
“It’s bloody cold,” said Patrix, fixing the belt on his pants. “Also got to get back to the creche grounds. I got work today.”
Peridot sat up, popping a few joints as she rotated her neck. “That was a wonderful experience, Patrix Fitzburke” she referred to last night. “I have mounted a few humans before. But none of them could hammer as hard as you.”
Patrix cocked an eyebrow in Peridot’s direction. “I think it was you who did the most hammering.”
Peridot chuckled, stretching her arms up.
“I, uh, hope your fellow Councilors don’t give you hell for this?”
“Hell?”
“I mean trouble. I hear not all of the Council likes us humans.”
Peridot got out of bed, reaching for her suit. “For a Diaderet to breed with a human is frowned upon. But not forbidden. As long as our personal activities do not jeopardize our duties, it is acceptable.” Pushing her legs and arms into her sleeves, Peridot closed the suit’s sealant. “My compatriots can shit in a boot if they do not approve.”
Patrix chuckled as he pulled his shirt down over his chest. “Nice to know Loroi can talk slang.”
Peridot reached for her robe. “Colloquialism is not so alien a concept. You intrigue me, Patrix Fitzburke. I am surprised that you have not fathered any children.”
Patrix shrugged, pulling on his jacket. “Eh, I’ve had little luck with human women on Proxima.”
“Not even with the human females here?”
“Well… there is one woman here who has my attention.” He was reluctant to name Calista.
“Why not ask her if she wants to copulate?” Peridot asked. “Whoever you seem drawn to, I am sure you both would make fine prodigy. And I am confident the Emperor would be happy to accommodate your child into her creche.”
Patrix had no desire to go into the lengthy history of human marriage, nuclear families and the difficulties of modern courtship. He just said, “It’s complicated. Plus she might not be comfortable with it.”
This surprised Peridot. “Why not? Even by Loroi standards, you are a handsome specimen.”
Patrix was not sure what she meant by ‘specimen’, but shrugged it off. “Let’s just say pursuing human women is no easy feat.”
“Ah, yes. I have heard many stories about human sexual pursuit and pair-bonding. How strange human males are forced to compete for a female’s affections. Even stranger that bonded pairs insist on raising their children alone. I can only imagine the strenuous inefficiency humans suffer from such arrangements.”
“Damn right,” said Patrix, swinging the pack with his coffee over his shoulder. “Your little blue men don’t know how good they have it.”
Peridot laughed. “That seems ironic. Many of our menfolk envy human males for their liberties.” She walked up to Patrix, resting her hands on his hips. “I do not understand the reasoning behind all human customs. And it seems pointless to argue over them. I will instead offer friendly advice: there could be other ways.” She pressed her pelvis against his. “And if you ever need another favor, I may be able to provide.”
Patrix fought against the arousal in his pants. “Well, I don’t suppose you could get me more coffee.”
“That coffee you carry was not easy to come by,” said Peridot. “And sanctions make trading with the Terrans more difficult. I can make no promises. But if I manage to return with more coffee, regardless if you decide to follow through with your… local pursuits… remember this: my sheath will be expecting your blade. And I will accept no refusal.”
“Fair enough, your excellency.”
“I would arrange for a boat to take you to shore,” said Peridot, releasing Patrix. “But it seems they are already ferrying guests back to the island. Perhaps I will see you later during festivities.”
The door slid open and shut as Patrix exited into the halls of the trimaran. How opportune it was still early morning. Hopefully he could sneak the coffee into his private quarters without seeming conspicuous since most residents would still be in bed.
He froze as he unexpectedly ran into Noah in the hallway of the trimaran.
“Pat?” Noah said, just as surprised to see his colleague aboard.
“Noah! What are you doing here?” Patrix asked.
“I… could ask you the same thing.” Noah took note of the pack on the Proxi-Irish man’s back. “Whatcha’ got there?”
“Empty beer cans,” Patrix lied. “The, uh, Loroi I spent the night with told me to clean up. You know how picky these elves can be.”
“You really are Irish, ain’t ya’? So, uh, who was the lucky elf this time?”
“Councilor Peridot.”
That surprised Noah. “A little old, wouldn’t you say?”
Patrix shrugged, his nonchalant mask seemingly working. “She’s got some nice… assets.”
Noah cocked an eyebrow. “Ooo-kay then.”
“Don’t judge me,” Patrix exaggerated his irritation. “Who did you screw around with last night? I thought you weren’t interested in Loroi women.”
“I’m not,” said Noah. “I was invited… by Nedatan Timadi Rain.”
“Wait. You mean… the Seer with the white mullet?!” Patrix was not sure if he ought to be surprised or mortified. “Did you two-”
“We just sampled wine!” Noah’s tone turned defensive. “With Councilor Second Claw. We had wine. Blue wine. Deinarid…. blue wine.”
“I thought you didn’t drink.”
“I don’t,” Noah reply was quick. “I just… tasted it… and then spat it out.”
“So… that’s it then?”
“Yes,” said Noah, his tone stiff. “Rain and Second Claw invited me to sample some wine. And other stuff. Food stuffs.” He added after a few seconds of awkward silence. “And… it was good.”
Patrix forced his head to nod. “Uh-huh. Yay. Yeah, tuigim. I hear ye'.”
The two men walked in awkward silence to the boat that would take them back to shore.
Noah squinted at Patrix as the Proxi-Irish chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Noah asked.
“Sorry,” Patrix grunted. “It’s just… heh… just thinking about Rain reminded me of something my dad once shared with me.”
“Which was?”
Patrix grinned at the memory of his youth on Proxima. “My father once said, ‘never trust a man with a mullet.’”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh up yours.”
“I believe that’s your department, Noah.”
Noah added, “With turpentine.”
=== (+) ===
By midday the skies were clear again of cloud cover. The Loroi carried on with their celebratory games and songs.
On the matter of songs, Fertile Spring decided to impress the residents of the island that morning, particularly the humans, with some of his original compositions. One such composition he played with his string-box, a Loroi instrument bearing much resemblance to a hurdy-gurdy. Played by pressing a series of keys reverberating against strings and small pipes while turning a crank on one end, producing a mesmerizing tune that strangely sounded more like a small pipe organ than a violin.
His music had attracted a mob of spectators in the gardens, especially the young Loroi and human girls.
Sarah lay on her stomach, her chin propped up on her palms as she kicked her feet slowly in rhythm with Spring’s music.
Glad, who lay right beside Sarah, recognized that infatuated look. Leaning in close to her friend, she whispered, “See something you like?”
“Yeah,” the word rolled out slowly of Sarah’s lips.
A wicked grin stretched on Glad’s face. She leaned in closer and asked, “Want to breed?”
“Yeah.” It took a few seconds for Sarah to realize her mistake. “Wha- I mean no!”
“Shh!” Caregiver Han hushed the children. She was enjoying her day off along with Spring’s music.
Glad giggled. “Sarah, you are easy to fool,” she whispered.
“Buttface,” Sarah silently snarled.
“Tail-wag,” Glad quietly shot back. “Not bad for a blue hobbit, is he?”
“Sometimes I think you’re more human than Loroi,” Sarah pointed out.
“I guess your human habits have… how does one say… rubbed on me?”
Sarah shook her head, trying to focus on Spring’s composition. “Stop being so weird, Glad.”
“It’s Gladstone.”
“Whatever.”
Fertile Spring finished his song. The surrounding humans applauded. As did a few Loroi who had grown up with the custom. Spring smiled, flattered by the praise for his music.
“That was beautiful, Spring,” said Calista, walking up to the Nedatan.
“It is proper to address the honored Nedatan as Tiret,” Spring’s Detair said sternly, standing protectively by his side.
“Please, Thorn,” Spring urged his Detair. “No need for formalities. It is alright.”
A servant announced the feasting tables were served and ready.
“Miss Calista,” said Spring, setting his instrument down. “I hear you come from the Terran colony Esperanza. I have always been fascinated by alien cultures. Perhaps you would like to share the details of your former home as we dine.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t want to hear about Esperanza,” Calista said bashfully. “It’s a boring colony world.”
“No story is boring,” Spring insisted, rising from his seat.
Calista blushed. “Well… if you insist.”
>Tiret, what about your string-box?< sent Thorn.
>My string-box isn’t going anywhere,< Spring sent back.
>Tiret, please refrain from getting too intimate with the human,< Thorn advised. >Since humans have no sanzai, she might misinterpret your gestures. The Cardinal would not approve.<
>Mogin, stop ruining my fun,< Spring brushed off her warnings, walking happily by Calista’s side to the feasting tables, admiring her beauty and other assets.
“Stars,” said Glad, happening to see flashes of Spring’s lust from her spot.
“What?” Sarah asked, rising to her feet.
“I think there is a new xenophile among us,” Glad answered, rising with her friend. They followed the crowd to the feast.
It took Sarah a few seconds to catch onto Glad’s meaning. “Wait! You mean… Spring likes Calista?”
“Isn’t it obvious? All the Nedatans have been interested in her.”
“Let me guess. Is it her boobs?”
“Yes. You are not jealous, are you?”
“Ew, no. Why would I want big boobs?”
“I was talking about Fertile Spring. I have learnt that human females become aggressive when competing for a particular male they want.”
Sarah blushed. “What?! No! That’s… ridiculous.”
“But you do like him,” Glad teased. “Even without sanzai, I can tell. Would you breed with him?”
“Dude!” Sarah swatted Glad’s stomach. “I’m ten.”
“Not now, of course,” Glad laughed. “But eventually. Would you consider it?”
Sarah thought it over. “Well… he is cute. Just… maybe. But it’s Kassad I really want when I’m older.”
“I will never understand the logic of human pair-bonding.”
“Anyway, what about you?”
“I cannot conceive children with Kassad. But, when we are both old enough, I could imagine us coupling for fun.”
“Fascinating,” said Sarah. “I was talking about Spring.”
It was Glad’s turn to be taken aback. “What?! Gross! Spring is blood kin.”
“You were talking about linebreeding the other day and saying it’s okay.”
“I said it is acceptable to some,” Glad corrected her friend. “Spring is… handsome… but I would never lie with him.”
Sarah giggled and sang a parody of the Weather Girls:
“It’s Spring and Glad, hallelujah!
They’re going to go out!
And then both get
absolutely soaking wet!”
“You are awful,” Glad muttered.
The feasting tables were ready. But servants and cooks came forward with covered round platters. The human children hopped anxiously to see what special treat the servants suddenly brought out to the buffets.
Andre thought it fitting to present it in person, “Presenting from our kitchen… made from wheat and tomatoes grown deep under the ground you stand on… with mozzarella grown in lab cultures by brilliant minds… with the help of the best cooks and the only French chef on Deinar.”
Children gasped for joy as the servants uncovered dozens of large, steaming pies.
Andre didn’t have time to formally present as a few young, native Earthlings cried out, “Pizza!”
Mobs of youngsters rushed to the buffets for a slice followed by their human elders who showed more patience. Loroi eyed the food suspiciously, even the dairy-free substitutes made specifically for their consumption. But were pleasantly surprised by the unique flavors of this alien food.
At one of the tables Arclight was shocked when Ashrain joined her with a slice of pizza. And not the dairy free alternative.
Arclight tried not to let the sight of the animal milk food disturb her lovely meal of miros steak. >Are you sure that stuff is sanitary?<
>No one’s died yet,< Ashrain sent back, taking a bite, tearing strings of lab mozzarella from her slice. >I need some exotic taste to distract me from this headache.<
>Well, maybe you should drink less alcohol then,< sent Arclight.
>I didn’t drink that much! Stop harassing me. You’re ruining my meal.<
Arclight squinted at the alien food in her kin’s hands. >How can you eat that?<
>We’re explorers,< Ashrain pointed out as she chewed. >We were taught from a young age to try alien cooking. Greywind included.<
>Wait! Even Greywind has tried that?!< Arclight pointed at the pizza.
Ashrain swallowed. >Apparently.<
>I admire our sire’s fortitude. But I will never agree with Perreinid eating habits.<
>Coming from one who has Perreinid ancestry?<
Arclight sliced off a bit of her steak with her knife. >Even if I were more Perreinid than Deinarid, I still don’t think I could stomach it.< She stuffed the steak bit into her mouth with her poker.
Stormrage entered their range along with a few warriors, approaching their table along with three boys. Ben, Qi and Idaho impressed their new admirers with babble and smiles. Every now and then Ben waved his arms, jabbing his hands as if demonstrating a fighting technique. Stormrage seemed to drink up his every word with an amused grin of her own. Some of the high-ranking Loroi laughed at some joke Qi seemed to be telling.
>Nice to see that our kin seem to enjoy these humans’ company,< Arclight commented, taking another bite of steak.
>It seems reassuring in spite of current tensions with the Terrans,< Ashrain agreed. >Though I think Stormrage seems to fancy Ben.<
Arclight was not enthralled by the idea of human copulation. >I could picture a Listel going down that lane to satisfy her insatiable curiosities. But I never thought a former Mizol would entertain the idea.<
>Well, Perreinids are certainly daring when it comes to sampling alien things,< Ashrain sent suggestively.
>Don’t ruin my appetite.<
Ashrain’s chuckle was barely audible.
“Hello, friends,” said Stormrage. She employed spoken speech as she joined her kin. “Boys, sit with us.”
“Just a moment,” said Ben. “I want to try that pizza.”
“Me too,” said Qi.
“Me three,” Idaho agreed.
“Please sit, Ben,” a Soroin Torret insisted. “I will bring you a plate of the pee-za food.”
“Oh, you don’t have to,” said Ben. The Loroi insisted. “That’s very nice of you.”
Two other commanders offered to fetch food for Qi and Idaho.
Ben looked to the rest of his high-ranking friends seated at the table and shrugged. “Being a male has its advantages.”
“Don’t let it make you conceited, little boy,” said Ashrain, taking another bite of pizza.
“We can’t help it if everyone think’s we’re cute,” Idaho said with a grin.
Stormrage and the warriors laughed.
>Conceited indeed,< sent Arclight. She took another bite of steak.
“It is fortunate that the weather has improved,” Stormrage commented. “Though the boys have graciously kept us entertained yesterday. We sparred together in the arena. For young males, these boys are certainly formidable fighters. After that we decided to play some games indoors.” She touched Ben’s shoulder. “It was wonderful.”
Ashrain thought she heard a suggestive tone in Stormrage’s voice. >You didn’t!<
>Relax! Nothing inappropriate.< Stormrage carried on, “They boys introduced us to some Terran games. Strange but very invigorating. After that we were invited by more of their friends and a few of our kin to watch a fictional recording called Dune.”
“What is Dune?” Arclight asked.
“Dune is about-” Ben was cut off as the Torret returned with a slice of pizza, taking a seat to enjoy her own dish. “Thank you. Anyway, Dune takes place in a fictional universe of an interstellar empire…”
Ben went on to explain how, in this fictional setting, the empire thrived on a highly valued substance called spice. A drug meant to enhance human cognitive functions. The movie focused primarily on a family of powerful feudalists called House Atreides assigned by their own emperor to oversee the production of spice, only to be sabotaged and overthrown by a rival clan called the Harkonnens. What baffled the Loroi was that this fictional interstellar empire employed close-quarters combat with swords and daggers.
“That makes absolutely no sense,” said Arclight, struggling to understand how these non-existing humans reasoned in their non-existing universe. “Why would an interstellar civilization with a technological level slightly higher than our own employ primitive weaponry?”
“They actually have a good explanation for that,” said Qi amidst his chewing of his pizza. “Like Union spaceships, the humans in Dune have shields both for ships and for individual warriors. The only difference is that their shields can only block high velocity projectiles. They can’t stop a blade if it moves slow enough.”
Arclight squinted. “That makes even less sense.”
“The story’s understanding of physics may not have been entirely accurate,” said Stormrage, “but it was a mildly entertaining experience. The story was filled with political intrigue, scheming, diplomatic exchanges, epic battles and eluding gigantic beasts swimming beneath sandy landscapes reminiscent of the dunes of Mezan. I was particularly intrigued by the Bene Gesserit order and their ability to influence target minds. An intriguing skill that they call the Voice. Apparently this Bene Gesserit order could hypnotize a target mind by modulating their vocal subtleties to override conscious thought. Compelling a target mind into obedience.”
“You mean like a Mizol’s ability to influence?” The idea disturbed some at the table.
A Listel’s laughter caught their attention. “Ironic, isn’t it, comrades? The idea of a vocal command controlling us seems daunting. Yet as servants of the military, we are indoctrinated to obey vocal commands over far distances.”
“Greetings, Listel Weaver,” said Ashrain.
“I am pleased to see you again, Mazeit Ashrain,” Weaver said with a smile.
“Listel Weaver, have you also participated in the human fiction rituals?” Arclight hoped not.
“I have. Humanity’s ability to make convincing illusions with real materials and digital illustrations outperforms any other sapients’ mastery of stagecraft.”
“But as a scientist, don’t you think fiction seems pointless?”
“Some of it is,” Weaver admitted. “But my time with the humans here has enlightened me about human culture. Including the practical role of fiction.”
“How could fiction possibly be practical?”
Ashrain swallowed her last bite and explained, “Remember our conversation from the shuttle? Humans used fiction as a way of indirectly confronting tyranny and injustice. But it has also been used as a tool for creating awareness and spreading new ideas.”
“Even if such things work for humans,” Arclight’s tone was skeptical, “aren’t the creche staff concerned that fiction could confuse our youth?”
“Certainly,” Weaver confirmed. “A few Loroi like Stonewill are openly opposed to fiction. But the humans convinced the Emperor and some of the staff how fiction, if used correctly, can not only develop humans’ creative abilities, but make education more desirable. It compels them to think. Not only that, but human fiction has even predicted the eventual creation of certain technologies. Some human inventions were even inspired by fiction. For all its falsity, fiction has the potential to drive creativity as well as ingenuity. For example, in the Dune fiction, the warriors developed shields for ships as well as for individual warriors. Essentially creating personal force screens.”
Arclight scoffed, “The idea that a shield can only stop high-velocity objects but not slow moving ones is ridiculous. Even more laughable is the proposition that such a technology would compel an interstellar civilization to resort to swords and daggers to wage warfare.”
“True,” Weaver agreed. “But the idea that we can equip individual warriors with personal force screens is intriguing. Even now there are scientists conducting research in the hopes of developing such a technology one day. And the idea that vocal commands can affect us both consciously and subconsciously is not so farfetched. Even if fiction was not good for our mental development, there is another reason why the Emperor encourages Loroi youth to be exposed to it. To remind them that it’s fake.”
“As if it were not obvious enough,” Stormrage pointed out.
“Not to untrained eyes,” said Weaver. “Humans have an abundance of digital and literary information. There are two kinds of information that outweigh factual information available to the Terran public. Fiction and junk data.”
“Listel Weaver, what’s junk data?” Idaho asked.
“Junk data is information that serves no real purpose. Our warrior society has built an infrastructure and culture dedicated to broadcasting facts. Our intelligence agencies and scientific institutions would be compromised otherwise. But some organizations have a tendency of keeping lots of junk information. Some of it is not necessarily false. But mostly useless data that is kept in case it serves a future purpose. Since Loroi are typically very literal, it can be easy for them to be mislead by archives of junk information. It can confound even our most skilled intelligence analysts.”
“Then why allow it at all?” Arclight asked.
Weaver explained, “One cannot purge society of junk data. It’s impossible. What is important to a Barsam may be irrelevant to a Loroi. What an Arreka finds intriguing may seem tedious to a human. It’s all a matter of perspective. Civilization’s will accumulate junk data. But one can learn how to differentiate true information from false. Relevant data from irrelevant.”
“The scientist makes a good point,” said Stormrage. “As a former Sentinel, we were often overwhelmed with too much information. Over the years, new subcastes among analysts and intelligence specialists have been introduced to distribute the workload. New departments had to be created to categorize and process oceans of information across the Command and Control Network.”
“That I can understand,” said Arclight. “But, Listel, do you really think teaching fiction to our youth can improve their analytical abilities?”
“At the very least it reminds them that not everything they see and hear is trustworthy,” said Weaver. “In fact, the human and Loroi children are encouraged to do research and ask questions regarding their fictional interests. To develop critical thinking and their ability to discern fact from falsehood. It all comes down to how we interpret information. Fiction may be whimsical, but it compels us to ask if it could be true.”
Arclight was not entirely convinced. “I still think it a wasted effort.”
“At least it’s fun,” Idaho said with a shrug.
“Yeah, and some of it makes for a good laugh,” Ben chipped in.
“What do you mean?” Arclight asked.
Ben tried thinking of an example. He remembered one Patrix introduced to the elder children. “Have you ever heard of Monty Python?”
The Loroi offered quizzical looks.
Seeing they had no tablet on hand, Ben pulled Idaho and Qi from the table.
“You guys still remember the Camelot song?” Ben asked.
“Only watched it like a hundred times,” said Idaho.
“Great! Then let’s dance.”
Idaho stopped them, “Wait! The English version or the Trade dub?”
“Trade first then English version.”
“But I want to get more pizza,” Qi whined.
“Okay, look, we’ll dance first then we’ll have more pizza with toppings,” said Ben.
Qi agreed, “Yes.”
“Oh, but no toppings,” Idaho objected.
Ben groaned, “No toppings then. Whatever! Let’s just dance!”
“Right!”
Ben announced, “Let us ride to Camelot!”
The Loroi at the table were baffled as the three human boys began singing about absolute nonsense. They boasted being warriors with allegiances to a round table whilst indulging in singing, dancing and enjoying Terran foods that were beyond the Loroi’s comprehension. Their clumsy footwork and lack of choreographic grace drew the attention of some Loroi and nearby humans, curious about the commotion. A few more boys and girls, having remembered this dance of silly walks and waving hands, joined in the fun much to the Loroi’s bemusement.
The young chorus further surprised their Loroi spectators as they jumped up onto one of the tables to sing in English. A few caregivers on duty rushed over, yelling at the kids to come down. It wasn’t until the children joined arms to shoulders, kicking up their legs in sync as they sang, “Our shows are formidable,” that the Loroi burst into uncontrolled fits of laughter.
Last edited by Snoofman on Tue Feb 13, 2024 10:38 am, edited 7 times in total.
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wolf329
- Posts: 218
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Re: A Chorus of Stars
Entertaining to be sure.
As for the intro, that's just how writing goes. Trimming the fat. If on re-reading a section you find yourself hurrying through a bit to get to "the good stuff" then that part is probably superfluous for now. Keep the stuff you don't use now because it might come in useful later though. Although I'm a little biased in that I'm mostly writing for comics now and excising a paragraph or two means I get to cut out a whole page or so or drawing, so there's additional reasons to be concise.
Alan Moore's view on writing is that the "connection tissue", the parts between the scenes that you come up with, are some of the hardest parts to write, but the most important in terms of narrative.
As for the intro, that's just how writing goes. Trimming the fat. If on re-reading a section you find yourself hurrying through a bit to get to "the good stuff" then that part is probably superfluous for now. Keep the stuff you don't use now because it might come in useful later though. Although I'm a little biased in that I'm mostly writing for comics now and excising a paragraph or two means I get to cut out a whole page or so or drawing, so there's additional reasons to be concise.
Alan Moore's view on writing is that the "connection tissue", the parts between the scenes that you come up with, are some of the hardest parts to write, but the most important in terms of narrative.
#1 Tempo simp
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
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Quickdraw101
- Posts: 141
- Joined: Mon Mar 23, 2020 7:01 am
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Re: A Chorus of Stars
I'm finally caught up on this. As always Snoof, it's looking good!
Re: A Chorus of Stars
I changed the five days of celebration to a longer one. Because come on, as if anyone would travel several days aboard an interstellar cruiser just to party for five days. Pretty short-lived family reunion.
XIV - Tales around the Bonfire
=== (+) ===
Fifth day of celebrations became the fifth evening.
By then the Loroi, aliens and humans were in full swing. Bonfires were started along the beeches where the children went to play and dance. Guardians on duty kept an eye out to make sure no child wandered too close to the water.
Some of the adults joined their children and young kin to dance to the sways of Loroi drums. Naturally the Loroi girls showed off their moves, eager to impress the spectating Nedatans as well as their human peers. The elders tolerated the youth’s flaunting as long as they exhibited nothing inappropriate. The human girls joined in dancing also, having a natural like for dance. But partially also because they felt jealous of their Loroi peers hogging all the boys’ attention.
Occasionally the Loroi music was interrupted by humans wanting to dance to some Terran tunes on their portable devices. Some of it was strangely invigorating. Some of it grated against the Loroi’s ears. Some of it was outright baffling. Much like the enlivening disco beats of the Trammps’ “Disco Inferno.”
Beverly Miller, who had her day off from work, introduced the Loroi and human children to some disco moves. The Loroi scoffed with delightful laughter as they tried mimicking the old disco moves.
Together they punched fists into the air, shaking their hips as they slowly swung their arms around in semi-circles and sang: “Burn, baby, burn!”
Even Ambassador Famiris and Cha were eager to join in the strange human ritual. Although it was harder for one of Famiris’ stature to mimic certain human movements, he danced and bobbed to the disco beats. Cha bobbed and swayed, relishing in the telepathic waves washing over him. The song faded out as it slowly came to an end.
Some of the humans and Loroi decided to take a break from the dancing and sit by one of the bonfires.
“Beverly, I had no idea you had such a passion for dance,” said Twoface.
“I’ve got a keen ear for the classics,” Beverly said with a huge smile.
Kirk laughed for joy, “Bev, that was fun!”
“Yes, it was,” Antimony agreed. “I don’t quite understand what disco inferno means. But it still seems a fun song.”
“It seems fun,” said Cadence. “But I fail to see what is so invigorating about incinerating infants?”
Beverly laughed at Cadence’s observation. “Hun’, it’s, heh… not about incinerating infants. It’s a metaphor.”
“Metaphor?” Cadence asked. “What is burning babies supposed to symbolize?”
The human adults and children gathered around the bonfire laughed.
“Shred human metaphors!” Cadence groaned infuriation, rose from her seat and stomped away.
“Oh, Cadence, come back,” Beverly said amidst her laughter. “I’m not laughing at you. Honey, come on now. I’m sorry.”
“Best you let her simmer,” said Icespear. She was enjoying her day-off to the fullest as she took a hefty sip of misesa ale. “Some Loroi do not understand figurative expressions.”
“No kidding,” said Luke, overhearing.
“Who’s ready for some smores?” Mark said in a merry sing-song voice.
The humans anxiously huddled around Mark as he opened the container.
“Easy, kids,” Mark urged the little huddlers, reaching into the container to pass a stick and a marshmallow to each child.
“Caregiver Mark, what is this ritual?” Twoface asked.
“Oh, an old tradition from Canada that my grandparents taught us,” Mark pointed out. “We call it smore roasting.”
“What’s Canada?” Kirk asked, jabbing his stick into his marshmallow.
“An old country back on Earth, Kirk.”
“I thought you were born on Proxima,” said Ripley. “Like Patrix.”
“Proxis come from all sorts of backgrounds, Ripley,” said Mark, handing her a stick and marshmallow. “Patrix is Proxi-Irish. I happen to be Proxi-Canuck.”
The children giggled at the funny sounding word. They rushed to the fire to commence roasting.
“Well then, my Proxi-Canuck comrade,” said Twoface, “what is smore roasting?”
Mark explained, “You roast a sweet bundle of aired up gelatin and corn syrup over a fire. Not too hot or else it will burn black.” A few children brought their burning marshmallows out of the fire, puffing them out. “Speak of the devil. Anyhoo, you then take that marshmallow, sandwich it between a layer of chocolate and two crackers. Graham crackers are usually the best. But sweet wafers also do the trick. And voila! You have a tasty smore. Want to try one?”
Twoface shrugged. “I suppose I could.”
Mark handed a marshmallow and stick to Twoface. “How about you Icespear?”
“Does it contain cow milk?” Icespear asked.
“Uh,” Mark thought it over, rolling out slowly, “no.”
Icespear squinted skeptically. “I don’t believe you.”
Mark shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“I thought you were running short on human goods.”
“The chocolate is lab grown,” Mark pointed out. “But we actually had lots of imported marshmallows still in storage.”
After fishing out wafers and chocolate from the box to make a sweet sandwich, the children moaned delightfully biting into their smores. Twoface was speechless as the alien flavor washed over her tongue.
“So, what do you think, hun’?” Beverly asked the Mizol-turned-caregiver.
“It’s incredible,” said Twoface. >Seriously, this smore delicacy is amazing! Icespear, you must try this.<
>I would sooner die,< Icespear sent. Her eyes glowed orange as the empty misesa ale bottle floated into a waste bin and two new bottles flew out of a nearby ice bucket into her hands. Using her powers to pop them open, Icespear handed a bottle to Twoface.
>No thank you, Icespear,< Twoface declined.
>Come on, it’s our day off,< Icespear urged, taking a swig of her own ale. >You need something to wash down that human stuff. You’ve been uptight ever since we came to this place.<
>You’re calling me uptight?< Twoface scowled at her companion.
>Drink with me, Twoface. Just one ale. For old time’s sake.<
Twoface could refuse, but decided to accept the drink. One bottle would not be enough to make her intoxicated, but she was still careful not to indulge too much in alcohol. Twoface had been trained during her enrollment at the Mizol Academy to keep secrets even under alcohol’s influence. But even so, disciplined Loroi like herself avoided unnecessary risks. Especially when she had to protect the biggest secret living on this island with her.
To distract herself from that big secret, Twoface concentrated on the party at hand and the delicious taste of misesa ale mingling with smore. The humans present also gave her an excuse to avoid sanzai as she said, “It has certainly been a long time since I enjoyed a misesa ale.”
“Why is that? I never took you for the drinking type, Twoface,” said Beverly.
“Because she has had a past history of drinking too much,” Icespear pointed out.
“Only on a few occasions,” Twoface said defensively.
“Ashrain enlightened me about a story you shared with her of crapulence at a Barsam monastery, Sentinel,” said Greywind, followed by Attendant Link who held up the Emperor’s cape to keep to prevent too much sand from getting into Greywind’s hair. They and Nightgale joined the group’s party around the bonfire. Greywind urged the group to be as they were as Link arranged seats for her and Nightgale.
“I hope you are enjoying your ale responsibly, Twoface,” said Greywind, taking a sip of wine herself. “It is not proper for a Mizol to be extremely intoxicated.”
Twoface took the hint. “It was only a few times, your highness,” said Twoface embarrassedly. “I won't let it happen again. I don’t actually enjoy deep intoxication.”
“You seemed to like it when we met,” Icespear said with a smirk.
"Icespear!"
Mark asked curiously, “Really? What happened?”
Twoface refused, “No, it’s embarrassing.”
“Come on, hun’,” Beverly wanted to know.
Everyone wanted to know now.
Twoface sighed, taking a hefty swig before she began, “During the Great War, many Mizols like myself were tasked with policing the order of the inner territories and defuse tense situations. My diplomatic skills combined with the fact that I had no telepathic powers of influence made me less intimidating to sapients. After the war ended, I was reassigned to the Tinza Sector. I arrived at Laget and was obligated to partake in a Sentinel lecture concerning the newly discovered Terrans and how we were to proceed in the event we had to exchange dialogue with any human vessels we encountered. Each of us at that particular lecture would be assigned to a ship to act as diplomatic officers to handle such exchanges as we patrolled the borders of the former Tithric territories now under Loroi rule. And to temper some of our respective Torrais’ worst impulses.”
“Quite so,” Greywind agreed.
“Anyway, following the lecture, some of us were granted mating encounters as reward for our long service. We went down to Laget’s surface to proceed to a Nedatan monastery. I myself decided to enjoy my shore leave at a pub.”
“Why?” Mark asked. “I thought Loroi were eager to mate.”
“My experience with menfolk is… not a pleasant one,” Twoface admitted.
Icespear decided to lighten the topic, “That’s how Twoface and I met. I was enjoying some shore leave myself with a few comrades at that same pub. One of my companions happened to catch sight of Twoface, who apparently was wearing civilian clothing at the time. We thought initially she was a male. My friends and I decided to introduce ourselves. Since it seemed odd for a seeming male to be alone, we offered our protective services.”
“You mean you wanted to bang her?” said Mark.
Icespear was enlightened about the meaning of ‘banging’. “That’s aside the point. Anyway we were embarrassed to find out Twoface was in fact a female.”
“Icespear, please don’t,” Twoface pleaded.
Icespear chuckled at the memory, “And I will never forget the drunken look on Twoface’s face when she asked us, ‘Am I born in the wrong body? Am I supposed to be a male?’”
The humans chuckled.
Icespear carried on, “My companions and I didn’t know what to say. And then drunk Twoface decided to become intimate with me in a manner typical of a male and said, ‘Let’s breed! Reach for my blade. Maybe I was meant to be a male. If you reach deep inside and pull hard enough, maybe a blade will come out. I’m sure it’s down there somewhere!’”
The assembled adults burst into hysterical laughter. Save for Greywind who passively absorbed the details, cocking an eyebrow at Twoface who hid her face shamefully.
“Girl, I’m surprised Icespear didn’t turn you into a cloud of blue mist right then and there,” Beverly laughed.
“Fortunately no,” said Twoface. “But she did knock me out.”
“It was an accident,” said Icespear. “Besides, you were thrusting your pelvis against my leg.”
The adults laughed even louder.
“It’s true. I was so angry that I meant to push her away from me, but she started thrusting even harder. So I used my powers but it was too much. We just left her lying unconscious on the floor. The next day, when we returned to our assigned ship, I was shocked to meet Twoface on the same shuttle with us. Apparently she had been assigned to our ship.”
“Oh, girl,” said Beverly, very amused now.
“It’s true,” Twoface admitted amidst her embarrassment. “Of course, I approached Icespear to apologize. And naturally she was too stubborn to apologize but was decent enough to acknowledge me as her superior officer.”
“I will never apologize for defending myself against a violator,” said Icespear.
“Twoface, I had no idea you had a habit of getting shitfaced,” Mark chuckled.
“What means shitfaced?” Nightgale asked, wanting to partake more in this alien conversation.
“It means really drunk.”
“But why call it shitfaced then? I fail to see what excrement on a face has to do with intoxication.”
“Ooh, I know the answer to that,” twelve-year old Autumn pointed out, taking a bite out of her smore. Walking up to the adults, she explained, “I remember Teacher Schreiber explaining once. In the Victorian era back on Earth, humans didn’t have good sanitation. Especially big cities like London where people would just toss their crap out the window and into the streets.”
Twoface squinted her eyes, still getting used to human slangs. “Do you mean versatile crap or literal crap?”
Autumn grinned. “Both.”
The Loroi gasped in horror.
Autumn cheerfully carried on, “Cities in the ancient times were cesspits for filth and disease. Anyhow, according to Schreiber, whenever people during those times left an inn or a drinking den, some of them would be so drunk that when they keeled over, they landed face first in some fresh crap a neighbor just threw out the window. Hence the term, ‘shitfaced.’”
“How enlightening,” Greywind said simply.
“What the hell does Wolfgang teach you kids in that class room?” said Beverly.
"Lots of great stuff," said Autumn, rushing back to roast another marshmallow by the bonfire.
“Low tide!” Icespear suppressed her urge to gag at the awful realization. “Humans are disgusting.”
“Well, Loroi aren’t exactly clean with their eons of bloodshed, now are they?” said Mark.
“At least we didn’t toss shit on our streets,” Icespear shot back.
“What’s wrong with throwing shit?” Soma hollered, happening to overhear. “We love shit!”
“Soma!” Beverly warned. “Language!”
“Okay, we’ll call it crap instead. Who loves crap?!”
“I do!” Luke shouted.
“Me too!”
Soma and the rest of the boys around the fire giggled and began to chant:
“Crap! Crap! Crap away!
We’re going to throw our crap away!
Crap! Crap! Crap away!
We’re going to crap all day!”
“You boys are so gross,” Katniss muttered, losing her appetite in her smore.
“I disagree,” said Bean, joining in the boys’ chanting.
Amused yet bewildered by the strange human tunes, Nightgale asked, “Do all human boys act like this?”
Mark shrugged with a grin. “Boys will be boys.”
Nightgale looked at her sister. >What strange creatures these humans are. Though quite entertaining.< She took a sip of blue wine.
“So Torrai Sada-” Mark looked for the word. “Sady- Sadi-”
“Sadait,” said Nightgale. “But do not trouble yourself with the title. You may call me by my name.”
“Oh thanks,” said Mark. “So, uh, what’s your story?”
Nightgale did not understand. “I beg your pardon?”
“You seem to be the Emperor’s younger sister. Would you mind telling us a bit about yourself?”
“Well,” Nightgale recounted what seemed most relevant. She described her youth on Deinar, commencing her trials on Perrein and being enrolled at Perrein’s local Mizol Academy unlike the rest of her sisters. Nightgale was eventually called back to Deinar to accept a post as an envoy between Perrein and Deinar. For the next few decades, Rainlash influenced her career path, finding suitable positions for Nightgale that would best serve their familial clan and fulfill the needs of the Third Emperor’s cabinet.
“It sounds like it must have been a big job,” said Mark.
“If you mean my occupation was burdensome,” said Nightgale, “then yes. Our mother worked closely with the Third Emperor. And so she expected great things from all of us.”
“I had a mother like that,” Beverly admitted. “Strict as hell.”
“I do not know what hell means,” said Nightgale, “but our mother was indeed strict. But she had good intentions for her children as well.”
Greywind avoided scoffing as she took a sip of blue wine.
“Emperor, did you also serve the Third Emperor?” Mark asked.
“For a time,” said Greywind, swirling the wine in her glass. “Our familial clan was committed to upholding Eighth Dawn’s policies in the name of strengthening central authority.”
“So, uh, Emperor,” said Beverly. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you go from supporting the Third Emperor to becoming political opponents?”
Greywind explained, “It is a long story. Thanks to the influence of my familial clan, whose allegiance was solely to Eighth Dawn at the time, I was allowed to serve the Third Emperor more personally. To be in her presence initially was an honor. She was charismatic. A visionary who wanted to expand the Loroi Union through commerce and exploration. I had heard all the stories about her rise to power. She was still very young when she overthrew the former Emperor Swiftsure. Swiftsure's reign had fractured the governed provinces, giving room for Axis factions to come to power. Eighth Dawn dissuaded the Axis factions from breaking away. She even granted Swiftsure and all her former supporters a full pardon as an act of good will. Thanks to the Third Emperor, central control of the Union was restored.
"After my graduation from the Mizol Academy, she saw fit to put my intelligence gathering specialties to good use. I was sent on many diplomatic missions to inspect the state of affairs on the Sister Worlds and other colonies. To report any sign of political deviance and uproot any movements that would threaten Deinar.” She could see the humans shift uncomfortably. “The details of my missions and exploits remain confidential for reasons of security. What I can say is, regardless of what you might think, everything I did was in the name of preserving the central authority and to keep the peace of the Union. In as much as intelligence agencies of the Terrans have gone to great lengths to counter anarchy.”
“But, Emperor, if you and Eighth Dawn agreed on central authority, why did you become political opponents?” Mark asked.
“We agreed on central authority,” Greywind replied. “We disagreed on the manner in which it ought to be done. Eighth Dawn boasted being a political progressive. But her reformations were slow.”
“But Eighth Dawn did do good for the Union,” argued Nightgale. “She spearheaded expansion into formerly unknown territories. She eased restrictions on commerce, allowing the sapients better opportunities to trade. The private sector flourished. She addressed the concerns of the Alien Assembly. The aliens adored her.”
“The wealthy aliens adored her,” said Greywind. "They profited while ignoring the needs of commoners."
Nightgale further defended the former Third Emperor, “Eighth Dawn was also committed to reconciling the prejudice that separated warriors from civilians. Like you. She even allowed several civilians to sit on the Diadem.”
“Civilian magnates who were more invested in enriching themselves,” Greywind countered. “And convinced several Diaderets to turn a blind eye to questionable business practices. Even promoting corporate profiteering at the expense of the public’s well-being. They willfully sabotaged public welfare, all the while promising that this short-term profiteering would benefit the Union. Meanwhile thousands of Guilds were being outcompeted by alien manufacturers the Third Emperor seemed to favor over her own people. It didn't ease the prejudice that separated civilians and warriors. In fact it made it worse. Eighth Dawn jeopardized our military’s strength by making too many compromises with self-serving tycoons. The only reason why Traditonalists tolerated this dishonorable conduct was because Eighth Dawn honored the tradition of disallowing civilians to partake in military matters.”
“But you don’t allow civilians to partake in military matters, your highness,” Twoface pointed out. “With all due respect.”
“True,” said Greywind. “But unlike the Traditionalists, I believe Loroi of civilian birth deserve the right to enroll within the military. However, they must start as we all start; from the bottom. After the war ended, the Traditionalists wanted to revoke the Redemption Program. I would not allow it. I approached Guild Masters who had provided for the war effort and personally requested that they yield custody of their children to enroll them at this creche. A few failed their trials, yes. But many more succeeded. My wards are living proof that even civilians can ascend if they find the strength and courage to rise to the challenge. Perhaps one day they may even become Commanders themselves. But first they must earn it.”
“Emperor, how can you expect others to ascend honorably when you ascended through the Sorimi tracks?” Icespear pointed out. She was definitely unapologetic when it came to expressing her honest opinions. "I'm just saying a fact. I've heard the stories."
To which Greywind cooly countered, “A wise strategist uses all tools at her disposal. And besides, others have used Sorimi-tracks to advance themselves long before I did.”
“I mean no offense, your highness,” said Mark, “but don’t you think that’s how exploiters rise to power?”
“Most definitely.”
The old Emperor never ceased to baffle the human residents with her complexity.
Mark added, “Then… surely you understand why some might consider climbing the Sorimi-tracks dishonorable.”
“It’s not a question of honor. It’s a race against political opposition. If your opponents are set on enforcing policies that you deem immoral, you must beat them first. It doesn’t matter how right or wrong you seem to be. If you are not prepared to fight for your beliefs, you will never enforce effective change.”
“Well it’s not exactly easy to fight for your beliefs when your masters are looking at you down the barrel of a gun,” Mark said absent-mindedly.
There was an awkward silence as Greywind stared intently at him. Until she broke the silence, “Fair enough.”
“Which is why it’s a good thing that all-powerful Emperor Greywind is on the human side,” said Bean, barging in on the conversation as she lost interest in torturing marshmallows in the bonfire.
Greywind cocked an eyebrow. “The human side? I think you are mistaken, Bean. It is you humans that are on the Loroi side.”
Bean grinned ear to ear, “Nope! You’re on our side.”
“Yeah,” said Aiguo, running up alongside Bean. “Blue mama’s on our side.”
“Yes,” Ripley chipped in. “Our side.”
More children chanted as they surrounded Greywind, “Blue mama! Our side! Blue mama! Our side!”
“Children, stop,” Greywind urged her wards.
"Too late," Beverly chuckled. "Once they start, they don't stop."
Soon Greywind’s scions joined in with their human peers, cheering their all-powerful Emperor for being on their side. Greywind sighed at the silly antics and let it happen. She could order them to stop, but didn’t have the heart to be harsh. Not when everyone was so happy.
=== (+) ===
Greywind and Nightgale eventually left the beech to enjoy a late night stroll through the gardens. Attendant link walked a few paces behind her Emperor.
>Interesting children you’ve adopted,< Nightgale sent with an amused grin.
>The young humans’ demeanor is unique I admit,< sent Greywind. >But each of them has something valuable to offer.<
>I must admit I did not think you capable of loving the prodigy of criminal aliens.<
>The children are innocent. All born into unfortunate circumstances. Here we Loroi will give the humans direction. Oversight. My hopes of using their example to inspire the Terrans into seeing the benefit of joining the Union seems to have failed. But it doesn’t matter. These humans here are benign, in spite of their flaws. They will birth a new human culture here in the Union.<
>I wish you luck in your endeavor,< Nightgale sent sincerely. >I am happy that you took the time to speak with me today, Greywind. I feared I was never going to get the chance. Though I understand that, as an Emperor, you probably never have a moment to yourself.<
>You have no idea,< sent Greywind. >I am also happy that you accepted my invitation, Nightgale. I know we have often disagreed on political matters. But you are my sister nonetheless.<
Nightgale was silent.
>Is something wrong?< Greywind asked.
>Greywind, the Great War has left many shaken. Do you really want the aliens and Loroi of the Union to reconcile?<
>It’s what the Union needs.<
>You speak of reconciliation, Greywind. Yet you will not reconcile with our mother.<
Greywind restrained her frustration. >I prefer not to argue about this.<
>Greywind, we have been here for days. And you haven’t even tried speaking with our mother once.<
Greywind sent nothing.
Nightgale urged, >Sister, please do not ignore this!<
>How can I ignore the burden of her presence?< Greywind snarled. She composed herself. >Nightgale, I tolerate Rainlash's presence because she means something to you. But not to me. She stopped being my mother a long time ago.<
>Greywind, stop being so stubborn.<
>I am not stubborn,< Greywind lashed out. Nightgale jumped back at the outburst. Greywind struggled to suppress her anger. >Even if I wished to reconcile with Rainlash, I cannot. There are too many things in our past that cannot be absolved.<
>Because of your past?< Nightgale asked. >Or because of the coup against you?<
>Nightgale!< Greywind cautioned. >You do not know what transpired during the attempted coup against me. Do not involve yourself in what you do not understand. Taking our mother’s burdens upon yourself is martyrdom. And it serves nothing.<
Nightgale pleaded, >Greywind, you know our mother did not conspire against you.<
>I will not caution you again,< sent Greywind. >Let it alone.<
>Please, our mother is dying.<
>And she will no doubt have you to comfort her as she passes. But she has done nothing to be worthy of my pity.<
>How can you be so cruel?!<
Greywind’s eyes burned brilliant blue as she loomed over her younger sister. >How dare you! Are you suggesting I am making an effort to be cruel for the joy of it?<
Nightgale timidly lowered her head. She sent fearfully, >I think your anger clouds your judgement. And I think you would profit more if you just gave Rainlash the benefit of the doubt and took a moment to speak with her. I have been angry with you too for what has transpired these last few decades. But I don’t want to be angry anymore. I just want us to reconcile. You give human orphans a home, yet you refuse to give our mother just one final moment of your time.<
The blazing embers of Greywind’s essence calmed. Affection clashed with agitation as she sent, >I feel your intentions, Nightgale. They are pure. Unsullied by ulterior motives. You’re not like our mother. You’re not like me. You are a trustworthy Sentinel, Nightgale, because you have integrity. The Governor of Perrein is lucky to have you as her secretary. But you have never been a fighter. You have not underwent the trials I was forced to endure as a Mizol. Or a Torrai. Our mother did not force you to suffer what the rest of our sisters had to suffer. That’s why she spared you her harshness. You may love her for being gentle with you. I do not hold it against you. It’s simply fate. But if I refuse to reconcile with anyone, I have good reasons. And so I tell you: just let it be.<
>Then I will,< Nightgale sent sadly. Before leaving Greywind, she urged, >I ask only you speak with her one last time. I will retire for the evening.<
Nightgale walked off for the guest house.
Greywind walked away with Attendant Link close behind. Ever since Rainlash’s arrival, Greywind was anticipating the former Diaderet to engage in something conspicuous. The old Emperor was waiting for an opportunity to catch Rainlash in a dirty deed. To have a justification to boot her off the island. Yet Rainlash did nothing of the kind. She simply wandered the grounds, striking up conversation with anyone that wanted to talk. Of course, many Loroi ignored her. Some were even outright bitter toward her. It did little to faze Rainlash as she simply left such bitter souls alone. If Rainlash wanted to speak with Greywind, then why did she not approach? What was she waiting for? Greywind could always approach her, but she didn’t want to.
Greywind justified: I am not in the wrong. If my mother wants to speak, she can come to me.
Greywind needed something to distract her from this raging frustration. Passing through the gardens, she found it in the form of a mob of human women and Loroi females. The focus of their activity: a high-heels competition.
Curious, Greywind approached.
“Oh, your highness,” said Calista surprisedly. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?”
Greywind pointed toward a seated Torrai clumsily slipping her toes into a pair of red high-heels. “This,” she said. This was not the first time she witnessed the human women introducing the Loroi to high-heels. These awkward Terran footwear were reputed to make human females look more desirable to men by suspending women’s heels as they stood on the balls of their feet, thus pushing up their waists. It was also said to look fashionable, though how was beyond the Loroi.
The Torrai in high-heels tried hiding her discomfort as she stood, wobbling forward a few steps. She barely took her seventh as she lost her balance and collapsed. Teidar Hailstorm stood nearby to catch any contestant to avoid injury.
The women laughed.
The Torrai hastily ripped the high-heels off and throwing them away, roaring, “Stupid shows are impractical! No one can walk in these horrid things!”
The humans laughed louder at the Loroi’s frustration.
“How many Loroi have succeeded?” Greywind asked Calista.
Calista shrugged, “None.”
“And humans?”
“Han faired better than all the Loroi with eight steps. Negin made it to ten. Chessa did seventeen steps before dropping sideways.”
“Can you do better?”
“Ha! Watch me!”
Calista gracefully slipped on the red heels without even needing to sit. Humans whistled and Loroi jaws dropped as she marched effortlessly down the two aisles of spectators and back.
Together the humans chanted as Calista marched one foot in front of the other:
“Awww, it’s a girl thing with the right swing,
So move over while we do our thing!”
Calista winked at a few Loroi, who rolled their eyes at the obvious taunt. Greywind did not laugh, but she had to admit it was rather humorous for a human female to make a couple warriors jealous.
Fertile Spring and a few Nedatans admired the spectacle. Their Detairs stood close by. Greywind could see her second great grandson glowing with lustful wonder as he watched Calista walk with such confidence.
>Greetings, my sire,< Spring sent, taking notice of Greywind as she stood by him. He did poorly to conceal his thoughts, which were heavily focused on certain aspects of Calista’s anatomy bouncing with every stride.
>Spring, compose yourself,< Greywind shamefully urged him. >I know you can’t help being a male. But try to be proper.<
>I’m sorry, my elder,< Spring apologize bashfully. >But Calista’s bosom is very distracting.<
>I suppose it is... difficult not to notice.<
>She is very beautiful.<
>I suppose for a human Calista has attractive qualities,< sent Greywind.
Spring whispered exclusively to Greywind, >My elder, I must ask something.<
>What, Spring?< Greywind kept their exchange private.
Spring blushed, asking bashfully, >Would it be acceptable if a mating encounter could be arranged between me and Calista?<
Greywind suppressed her infuriation as she answered, >Absolutely not.<
>Why not?<
>Because you are a Loroi. She is a human.<
>Other warriors have mounted humans. Including some of the human staff here.<
>That's different. Besides, no one here, not even the humans, may mate unless it is approved. And off the creche grounds.<
>So why can't you approve mine with Calista?<
>You are a Nedatan. Coupling with a human would make you seem unclean in a female’s eyes.<
>Unclean? When last I checked these human residents are not carrying harmful contagions.<
>That’s not the point! You are a member of a respected order who must abide by standards if you want to keep your place in it. Nedatans that have engaged in improper conduct have suffered severe penalties. Sage Glory would be furious with you. You could be expelled from the order.<
>Not if you intervened.<
Greywind warned, >Spring! Just because you are the Emperor's second great grandson doesn't mean you get exclusive privileges. I am prepared to defend my kin from bad treatment. But I won't pardon willful mischief. You are a Nedatan with mating arrangements with some of the most respected warriors across Deinar. An endless stream of gorgeous mates. Why would you even need to couple with a human?<
>I can't explain it,< Spring admitted. >I feel drawn to her. And if she wanted to-<
>Think with your head, Spring. Not your blade.<
>But Emperor-<
>This discussion is finished. Now forget about it. And just so there is no misunderstanding, if you choose to seduce Calista, or any human for that matter, I will not come to your defense. Are my words clear?<
Spring wanted to argue, but saw there was no point. >Yes, my elder.<
>Good.<
Calista slipped out of the heels before calling, “Emperor, would you like to try?”
Greywind was not expecting the invitation. “While I take pride in my ability to govern and lead, I’m afraid my high-heel skills would be disappointing.”
“Try it, Emperor,” Han urged. “Azerein! Azerein!”
“Azerein! Azerein!” Together the humans chanted before their Loroi comrades joined in.
Greywind sighed and gave in. The old Emperor sat on the chair, slipping her feet out of her military grade boots and into the high-heels Calista handed over. The human shoes felt awfully uncomfortable. A single strap wedged itself between the big and index toes of each foot while another strap encircled the foot’s bridge. Greywind suppressed a grimace as the toe strap scraped against her flesh. With some help from Attendant Link and Calista, the old Emperor shakily rose to her feet. Signaling to be released, the women released Greywind.
The assembly of spectators became deathly silent as they watched their elected ruler march slowly, one stiff step in front of the other. Greywind strained to balance herself on the balls of her feet, since walking heel-to-toe felt too dangerous. The weight of her purple cape made it harder. Still Greywind pressed on. The humans and Loroi were mildly impressed when Greywind managed to reach twenty-one steps.
“Well done, your highness,” Calista applauded, followed by the other humans.
The Loroi also offered their compliments. The Nedatans snickered.
Greywind thought she felt something in her left calf sprain. She stumbled forward five steps before collapsing sideways. Hailstorm caught her with a thought, slowly letting down the Emperor.
“I, uh, guess you were right, Emperor,” said Calista with a nervous chuckle. “High-heels do seem beyond your skill.”
Greywind squinted back at Calista. For a moment Calista was afraid she was in trouble for the insubordinate comment. Laying on her side, Greywind surprised Calista with the Trudeau salute. The humans laughed with relief as did the Loroi. Attendant Link rushed forward to discard the high-heels and slip on the Emperor’s boots.
The humans applauded the Emperor.
“Bravo, Emperor,” Chessa complimented. “Best Loroi in high-heels. Maybe you ought to consider working in the fashion industry.”
“It could not afford me,” said Greywind, rising to her feet with Link’s aid.
The women laughed louder. As serious as Greywind looked all the time, they enjoyed her occasional comebacks.
Tempo forced her way through the crowd.
“Greetings, Tempo,” said Greywind. “Have you come to try the treacherous high-heel competition?”
Tempo did not look amused. In fact Greywind noticed the Sentinel’s essence glowing with worry.
Greywind asked, >Tempo, is there a problem?<
>Yes, Azerein. Ben has been injured.<
XIV - Tales around the Bonfire
=== (+) ===
Fifth day of celebrations became the fifth evening.
By then the Loroi, aliens and humans were in full swing. Bonfires were started along the beeches where the children went to play and dance. Guardians on duty kept an eye out to make sure no child wandered too close to the water.
Some of the adults joined their children and young kin to dance to the sways of Loroi drums. Naturally the Loroi girls showed off their moves, eager to impress the spectating Nedatans as well as their human peers. The elders tolerated the youth’s flaunting as long as they exhibited nothing inappropriate. The human girls joined in dancing also, having a natural like for dance. But partially also because they felt jealous of their Loroi peers hogging all the boys’ attention.
Occasionally the Loroi music was interrupted by humans wanting to dance to some Terran tunes on their portable devices. Some of it was strangely invigorating. Some of it grated against the Loroi’s ears. Some of it was outright baffling. Much like the enlivening disco beats of the Trammps’ “Disco Inferno.”
Beverly Miller, who had her day off from work, introduced the Loroi and human children to some disco moves. The Loroi scoffed with delightful laughter as they tried mimicking the old disco moves.
Together they punched fists into the air, shaking their hips as they slowly swung their arms around in semi-circles and sang: “Burn, baby, burn!”
Even Ambassador Famiris and Cha were eager to join in the strange human ritual. Although it was harder for one of Famiris’ stature to mimic certain human movements, he danced and bobbed to the disco beats. Cha bobbed and swayed, relishing in the telepathic waves washing over him. The song faded out as it slowly came to an end.
Some of the humans and Loroi decided to take a break from the dancing and sit by one of the bonfires.
“Beverly, I had no idea you had such a passion for dance,” said Twoface.
“I’ve got a keen ear for the classics,” Beverly said with a huge smile.
Kirk laughed for joy, “Bev, that was fun!”
“Yes, it was,” Antimony agreed. “I don’t quite understand what disco inferno means. But it still seems a fun song.”
“It seems fun,” said Cadence. “But I fail to see what is so invigorating about incinerating infants?”
Beverly laughed at Cadence’s observation. “Hun’, it’s, heh… not about incinerating infants. It’s a metaphor.”
“Metaphor?” Cadence asked. “What is burning babies supposed to symbolize?”
The human adults and children gathered around the bonfire laughed.
“Shred human metaphors!” Cadence groaned infuriation, rose from her seat and stomped away.
“Oh, Cadence, come back,” Beverly said amidst her laughter. “I’m not laughing at you. Honey, come on now. I’m sorry.”
“Best you let her simmer,” said Icespear. She was enjoying her day-off to the fullest as she took a hefty sip of misesa ale. “Some Loroi do not understand figurative expressions.”
“No kidding,” said Luke, overhearing.
“Who’s ready for some smores?” Mark said in a merry sing-song voice.
The humans anxiously huddled around Mark as he opened the container.
“Easy, kids,” Mark urged the little huddlers, reaching into the container to pass a stick and a marshmallow to each child.
“Caregiver Mark, what is this ritual?” Twoface asked.
“Oh, an old tradition from Canada that my grandparents taught us,” Mark pointed out. “We call it smore roasting.”
“What’s Canada?” Kirk asked, jabbing his stick into his marshmallow.
“An old country back on Earth, Kirk.”
“I thought you were born on Proxima,” said Ripley. “Like Patrix.”
“Proxis come from all sorts of backgrounds, Ripley,” said Mark, handing her a stick and marshmallow. “Patrix is Proxi-Irish. I happen to be Proxi-Canuck.”
The children giggled at the funny sounding word. They rushed to the fire to commence roasting.
“Well then, my Proxi-Canuck comrade,” said Twoface, “what is smore roasting?”
Mark explained, “You roast a sweet bundle of aired up gelatin and corn syrup over a fire. Not too hot or else it will burn black.” A few children brought their burning marshmallows out of the fire, puffing them out. “Speak of the devil. Anyhoo, you then take that marshmallow, sandwich it between a layer of chocolate and two crackers. Graham crackers are usually the best. But sweet wafers also do the trick. And voila! You have a tasty smore. Want to try one?”
Twoface shrugged. “I suppose I could.”
Mark handed a marshmallow and stick to Twoface. “How about you Icespear?”
“Does it contain cow milk?” Icespear asked.
“Uh,” Mark thought it over, rolling out slowly, “no.”
Icespear squinted skeptically. “I don’t believe you.”
Mark shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“I thought you were running short on human goods.”
“The chocolate is lab grown,” Mark pointed out. “But we actually had lots of imported marshmallows still in storage.”
After fishing out wafers and chocolate from the box to make a sweet sandwich, the children moaned delightfully biting into their smores. Twoface was speechless as the alien flavor washed over her tongue.
“So, what do you think, hun’?” Beverly asked the Mizol-turned-caregiver.
“It’s incredible,” said Twoface. >Seriously, this smore delicacy is amazing! Icespear, you must try this.<
>I would sooner die,< Icespear sent. Her eyes glowed orange as the empty misesa ale bottle floated into a waste bin and two new bottles flew out of a nearby ice bucket into her hands. Using her powers to pop them open, Icespear handed a bottle to Twoface.
>No thank you, Icespear,< Twoface declined.
>Come on, it’s our day off,< Icespear urged, taking a swig of her own ale. >You need something to wash down that human stuff. You’ve been uptight ever since we came to this place.<
>You’re calling me uptight?< Twoface scowled at her companion.
>Drink with me, Twoface. Just one ale. For old time’s sake.<
Twoface could refuse, but decided to accept the drink. One bottle would not be enough to make her intoxicated, but she was still careful not to indulge too much in alcohol. Twoface had been trained during her enrollment at the Mizol Academy to keep secrets even under alcohol’s influence. But even so, disciplined Loroi like herself avoided unnecessary risks. Especially when she had to protect the biggest secret living on this island with her.
To distract herself from that big secret, Twoface concentrated on the party at hand and the delicious taste of misesa ale mingling with smore. The humans present also gave her an excuse to avoid sanzai as she said, “It has certainly been a long time since I enjoyed a misesa ale.”
“Why is that? I never took you for the drinking type, Twoface,” said Beverly.
“Because she has had a past history of drinking too much,” Icespear pointed out.
“Only on a few occasions,” Twoface said defensively.
“Ashrain enlightened me about a story you shared with her of crapulence at a Barsam monastery, Sentinel,” said Greywind, followed by Attendant Link who held up the Emperor’s cape to keep to prevent too much sand from getting into Greywind’s hair. They and Nightgale joined the group’s party around the bonfire. Greywind urged the group to be as they were as Link arranged seats for her and Nightgale.
“I hope you are enjoying your ale responsibly, Twoface,” said Greywind, taking a sip of wine herself. “It is not proper for a Mizol to be extremely intoxicated.”
Twoface took the hint. “It was only a few times, your highness,” said Twoface embarrassedly. “I won't let it happen again. I don’t actually enjoy deep intoxication.”
“You seemed to like it when we met,” Icespear said with a smirk.
"Icespear!"
Mark asked curiously, “Really? What happened?”
Twoface refused, “No, it’s embarrassing.”
“Come on, hun’,” Beverly wanted to know.
Everyone wanted to know now.
Twoface sighed, taking a hefty swig before she began, “During the Great War, many Mizols like myself were tasked with policing the order of the inner territories and defuse tense situations. My diplomatic skills combined with the fact that I had no telepathic powers of influence made me less intimidating to sapients. After the war ended, I was reassigned to the Tinza Sector. I arrived at Laget and was obligated to partake in a Sentinel lecture concerning the newly discovered Terrans and how we were to proceed in the event we had to exchange dialogue with any human vessels we encountered. Each of us at that particular lecture would be assigned to a ship to act as diplomatic officers to handle such exchanges as we patrolled the borders of the former Tithric territories now under Loroi rule. And to temper some of our respective Torrais’ worst impulses.”
“Quite so,” Greywind agreed.
“Anyway, following the lecture, some of us were granted mating encounters as reward for our long service. We went down to Laget’s surface to proceed to a Nedatan monastery. I myself decided to enjoy my shore leave at a pub.”
“Why?” Mark asked. “I thought Loroi were eager to mate.”
“My experience with menfolk is… not a pleasant one,” Twoface admitted.
Icespear decided to lighten the topic, “That’s how Twoface and I met. I was enjoying some shore leave myself with a few comrades at that same pub. One of my companions happened to catch sight of Twoface, who apparently was wearing civilian clothing at the time. We thought initially she was a male. My friends and I decided to introduce ourselves. Since it seemed odd for a seeming male to be alone, we offered our protective services.”
“You mean you wanted to bang her?” said Mark.
Icespear was enlightened about the meaning of ‘banging’. “That’s aside the point. Anyway we were embarrassed to find out Twoface was in fact a female.”
“Icespear, please don’t,” Twoface pleaded.
Icespear chuckled at the memory, “And I will never forget the drunken look on Twoface’s face when she asked us, ‘Am I born in the wrong body? Am I supposed to be a male?’”
The humans chuckled.
Icespear carried on, “My companions and I didn’t know what to say. And then drunk Twoface decided to become intimate with me in a manner typical of a male and said, ‘Let’s breed! Reach for my blade. Maybe I was meant to be a male. If you reach deep inside and pull hard enough, maybe a blade will come out. I’m sure it’s down there somewhere!’”
The assembled adults burst into hysterical laughter. Save for Greywind who passively absorbed the details, cocking an eyebrow at Twoface who hid her face shamefully.
“Girl, I’m surprised Icespear didn’t turn you into a cloud of blue mist right then and there,” Beverly laughed.
“Fortunately no,” said Twoface. “But she did knock me out.”
“It was an accident,” said Icespear. “Besides, you were thrusting your pelvis against my leg.”
The adults laughed even louder.
“It’s true. I was so angry that I meant to push her away from me, but she started thrusting even harder. So I used my powers but it was too much. We just left her lying unconscious on the floor. The next day, when we returned to our assigned ship, I was shocked to meet Twoface on the same shuttle with us. Apparently she had been assigned to our ship.”
“Oh, girl,” said Beverly, very amused now.
“It’s true,” Twoface admitted amidst her embarrassment. “Of course, I approached Icespear to apologize. And naturally she was too stubborn to apologize but was decent enough to acknowledge me as her superior officer.”
“I will never apologize for defending myself against a violator,” said Icespear.
“Twoface, I had no idea you had a habit of getting shitfaced,” Mark chuckled.
“What means shitfaced?” Nightgale asked, wanting to partake more in this alien conversation.
“It means really drunk.”
“But why call it shitfaced then? I fail to see what excrement on a face has to do with intoxication.”
“Ooh, I know the answer to that,” twelve-year old Autumn pointed out, taking a bite out of her smore. Walking up to the adults, she explained, “I remember Teacher Schreiber explaining once. In the Victorian era back on Earth, humans didn’t have good sanitation. Especially big cities like London where people would just toss their crap out the window and into the streets.”
Twoface squinted her eyes, still getting used to human slangs. “Do you mean versatile crap or literal crap?”
Autumn grinned. “Both.”
The Loroi gasped in horror.
Autumn cheerfully carried on, “Cities in the ancient times were cesspits for filth and disease. Anyhow, according to Schreiber, whenever people during those times left an inn or a drinking den, some of them would be so drunk that when they keeled over, they landed face first in some fresh crap a neighbor just threw out the window. Hence the term, ‘shitfaced.’”
“How enlightening,” Greywind said simply.
“What the hell does Wolfgang teach you kids in that class room?” said Beverly.
"Lots of great stuff," said Autumn, rushing back to roast another marshmallow by the bonfire.
“Low tide!” Icespear suppressed her urge to gag at the awful realization. “Humans are disgusting.”
“Well, Loroi aren’t exactly clean with their eons of bloodshed, now are they?” said Mark.
“At least we didn’t toss shit on our streets,” Icespear shot back.
“What’s wrong with throwing shit?” Soma hollered, happening to overhear. “We love shit!”
“Soma!” Beverly warned. “Language!”
“Okay, we’ll call it crap instead. Who loves crap?!”
“I do!” Luke shouted.
“Me too!”
Soma and the rest of the boys around the fire giggled and began to chant:
“Crap! Crap! Crap away!
We’re going to throw our crap away!
Crap! Crap! Crap away!
We’re going to crap all day!”
“You boys are so gross,” Katniss muttered, losing her appetite in her smore.
“I disagree,” said Bean, joining in the boys’ chanting.
Amused yet bewildered by the strange human tunes, Nightgale asked, “Do all human boys act like this?”
Mark shrugged with a grin. “Boys will be boys.”
Nightgale looked at her sister. >What strange creatures these humans are. Though quite entertaining.< She took a sip of blue wine.
“So Torrai Sada-” Mark looked for the word. “Sady- Sadi-”
“Sadait,” said Nightgale. “But do not trouble yourself with the title. You may call me by my name.”
“Oh thanks,” said Mark. “So, uh, what’s your story?”
Nightgale did not understand. “I beg your pardon?”
“You seem to be the Emperor’s younger sister. Would you mind telling us a bit about yourself?”
“Well,” Nightgale recounted what seemed most relevant. She described her youth on Deinar, commencing her trials on Perrein and being enrolled at Perrein’s local Mizol Academy unlike the rest of her sisters. Nightgale was eventually called back to Deinar to accept a post as an envoy between Perrein and Deinar. For the next few decades, Rainlash influenced her career path, finding suitable positions for Nightgale that would best serve their familial clan and fulfill the needs of the Third Emperor’s cabinet.
“It sounds like it must have been a big job,” said Mark.
“If you mean my occupation was burdensome,” said Nightgale, “then yes. Our mother worked closely with the Third Emperor. And so she expected great things from all of us.”
“I had a mother like that,” Beverly admitted. “Strict as hell.”
“I do not know what hell means,” said Nightgale, “but our mother was indeed strict. But she had good intentions for her children as well.”
Greywind avoided scoffing as she took a sip of blue wine.
“Emperor, did you also serve the Third Emperor?” Mark asked.
“For a time,” said Greywind, swirling the wine in her glass. “Our familial clan was committed to upholding Eighth Dawn’s policies in the name of strengthening central authority.”
“So, uh, Emperor,” said Beverly. “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you go from supporting the Third Emperor to becoming political opponents?”
Greywind explained, “It is a long story. Thanks to the influence of my familial clan, whose allegiance was solely to Eighth Dawn at the time, I was allowed to serve the Third Emperor more personally. To be in her presence initially was an honor. She was charismatic. A visionary who wanted to expand the Loroi Union through commerce and exploration. I had heard all the stories about her rise to power. She was still very young when she overthrew the former Emperor Swiftsure. Swiftsure's reign had fractured the governed provinces, giving room for Axis factions to come to power. Eighth Dawn dissuaded the Axis factions from breaking away. She even granted Swiftsure and all her former supporters a full pardon as an act of good will. Thanks to the Third Emperor, central control of the Union was restored.
"After my graduation from the Mizol Academy, she saw fit to put my intelligence gathering specialties to good use. I was sent on many diplomatic missions to inspect the state of affairs on the Sister Worlds and other colonies. To report any sign of political deviance and uproot any movements that would threaten Deinar.” She could see the humans shift uncomfortably. “The details of my missions and exploits remain confidential for reasons of security. What I can say is, regardless of what you might think, everything I did was in the name of preserving the central authority and to keep the peace of the Union. In as much as intelligence agencies of the Terrans have gone to great lengths to counter anarchy.”
“But, Emperor, if you and Eighth Dawn agreed on central authority, why did you become political opponents?” Mark asked.
“We agreed on central authority,” Greywind replied. “We disagreed on the manner in which it ought to be done. Eighth Dawn boasted being a political progressive. But her reformations were slow.”
“But Eighth Dawn did do good for the Union,” argued Nightgale. “She spearheaded expansion into formerly unknown territories. She eased restrictions on commerce, allowing the sapients better opportunities to trade. The private sector flourished. She addressed the concerns of the Alien Assembly. The aliens adored her.”
“The wealthy aliens adored her,” said Greywind. "They profited while ignoring the needs of commoners."
Nightgale further defended the former Third Emperor, “Eighth Dawn was also committed to reconciling the prejudice that separated warriors from civilians. Like you. She even allowed several civilians to sit on the Diadem.”
“Civilian magnates who were more invested in enriching themselves,” Greywind countered. “And convinced several Diaderets to turn a blind eye to questionable business practices. Even promoting corporate profiteering at the expense of the public’s well-being. They willfully sabotaged public welfare, all the while promising that this short-term profiteering would benefit the Union. Meanwhile thousands of Guilds were being outcompeted by alien manufacturers the Third Emperor seemed to favor over her own people. It didn't ease the prejudice that separated civilians and warriors. In fact it made it worse. Eighth Dawn jeopardized our military’s strength by making too many compromises with self-serving tycoons. The only reason why Traditonalists tolerated this dishonorable conduct was because Eighth Dawn honored the tradition of disallowing civilians to partake in military matters.”
“But you don’t allow civilians to partake in military matters, your highness,” Twoface pointed out. “With all due respect.”
“True,” said Greywind. “But unlike the Traditionalists, I believe Loroi of civilian birth deserve the right to enroll within the military. However, they must start as we all start; from the bottom. After the war ended, the Traditionalists wanted to revoke the Redemption Program. I would not allow it. I approached Guild Masters who had provided for the war effort and personally requested that they yield custody of their children to enroll them at this creche. A few failed their trials, yes. But many more succeeded. My wards are living proof that even civilians can ascend if they find the strength and courage to rise to the challenge. Perhaps one day they may even become Commanders themselves. But first they must earn it.”
“Emperor, how can you expect others to ascend honorably when you ascended through the Sorimi tracks?” Icespear pointed out. She was definitely unapologetic when it came to expressing her honest opinions. "I'm just saying a fact. I've heard the stories."
To which Greywind cooly countered, “A wise strategist uses all tools at her disposal. And besides, others have used Sorimi-tracks to advance themselves long before I did.”
“I mean no offense, your highness,” said Mark, “but don’t you think that’s how exploiters rise to power?”
“Most definitely.”
The old Emperor never ceased to baffle the human residents with her complexity.
Mark added, “Then… surely you understand why some might consider climbing the Sorimi-tracks dishonorable.”
“It’s not a question of honor. It’s a race against political opposition. If your opponents are set on enforcing policies that you deem immoral, you must beat them first. It doesn’t matter how right or wrong you seem to be. If you are not prepared to fight for your beliefs, you will never enforce effective change.”
“Well it’s not exactly easy to fight for your beliefs when your masters are looking at you down the barrel of a gun,” Mark said absent-mindedly.
There was an awkward silence as Greywind stared intently at him. Until she broke the silence, “Fair enough.”
“Which is why it’s a good thing that all-powerful Emperor Greywind is on the human side,” said Bean, barging in on the conversation as she lost interest in torturing marshmallows in the bonfire.
Greywind cocked an eyebrow. “The human side? I think you are mistaken, Bean. It is you humans that are on the Loroi side.”
Bean grinned ear to ear, “Nope! You’re on our side.”
“Yeah,” said Aiguo, running up alongside Bean. “Blue mama’s on our side.”
“Yes,” Ripley chipped in. “Our side.”
More children chanted as they surrounded Greywind, “Blue mama! Our side! Blue mama! Our side!”
“Children, stop,” Greywind urged her wards.
"Too late," Beverly chuckled. "Once they start, they don't stop."
Soon Greywind’s scions joined in with their human peers, cheering their all-powerful Emperor for being on their side. Greywind sighed at the silly antics and let it happen. She could order them to stop, but didn’t have the heart to be harsh. Not when everyone was so happy.
=== (+) ===
Greywind and Nightgale eventually left the beech to enjoy a late night stroll through the gardens. Attendant link walked a few paces behind her Emperor.
>Interesting children you’ve adopted,< Nightgale sent with an amused grin.
>The young humans’ demeanor is unique I admit,< sent Greywind. >But each of them has something valuable to offer.<
>I must admit I did not think you capable of loving the prodigy of criminal aliens.<
>The children are innocent. All born into unfortunate circumstances. Here we Loroi will give the humans direction. Oversight. My hopes of using their example to inspire the Terrans into seeing the benefit of joining the Union seems to have failed. But it doesn’t matter. These humans here are benign, in spite of their flaws. They will birth a new human culture here in the Union.<
>I wish you luck in your endeavor,< Nightgale sent sincerely. >I am happy that you took the time to speak with me today, Greywind. I feared I was never going to get the chance. Though I understand that, as an Emperor, you probably never have a moment to yourself.<
>You have no idea,< sent Greywind. >I am also happy that you accepted my invitation, Nightgale. I know we have often disagreed on political matters. But you are my sister nonetheless.<
Nightgale was silent.
>Is something wrong?< Greywind asked.
>Greywind, the Great War has left many shaken. Do you really want the aliens and Loroi of the Union to reconcile?<
>It’s what the Union needs.<
>You speak of reconciliation, Greywind. Yet you will not reconcile with our mother.<
Greywind restrained her frustration. >I prefer not to argue about this.<
>Greywind, we have been here for days. And you haven’t even tried speaking with our mother once.<
Greywind sent nothing.
Nightgale urged, >Sister, please do not ignore this!<
>How can I ignore the burden of her presence?< Greywind snarled. She composed herself. >Nightgale, I tolerate Rainlash's presence because she means something to you. But not to me. She stopped being my mother a long time ago.<
>Greywind, stop being so stubborn.<
>I am not stubborn,< Greywind lashed out. Nightgale jumped back at the outburst. Greywind struggled to suppress her anger. >Even if I wished to reconcile with Rainlash, I cannot. There are too many things in our past that cannot be absolved.<
>Because of your past?< Nightgale asked. >Or because of the coup against you?<
>Nightgale!< Greywind cautioned. >You do not know what transpired during the attempted coup against me. Do not involve yourself in what you do not understand. Taking our mother’s burdens upon yourself is martyrdom. And it serves nothing.<
Nightgale pleaded, >Greywind, you know our mother did not conspire against you.<
>I will not caution you again,< sent Greywind. >Let it alone.<
>Please, our mother is dying.<
>And she will no doubt have you to comfort her as she passes. But she has done nothing to be worthy of my pity.<
>How can you be so cruel?!<
Greywind’s eyes burned brilliant blue as she loomed over her younger sister. >How dare you! Are you suggesting I am making an effort to be cruel for the joy of it?<
Nightgale timidly lowered her head. She sent fearfully, >I think your anger clouds your judgement. And I think you would profit more if you just gave Rainlash the benefit of the doubt and took a moment to speak with her. I have been angry with you too for what has transpired these last few decades. But I don’t want to be angry anymore. I just want us to reconcile. You give human orphans a home, yet you refuse to give our mother just one final moment of your time.<
The blazing embers of Greywind’s essence calmed. Affection clashed with agitation as she sent, >I feel your intentions, Nightgale. They are pure. Unsullied by ulterior motives. You’re not like our mother. You’re not like me. You are a trustworthy Sentinel, Nightgale, because you have integrity. The Governor of Perrein is lucky to have you as her secretary. But you have never been a fighter. You have not underwent the trials I was forced to endure as a Mizol. Or a Torrai. Our mother did not force you to suffer what the rest of our sisters had to suffer. That’s why she spared you her harshness. You may love her for being gentle with you. I do not hold it against you. It’s simply fate. But if I refuse to reconcile with anyone, I have good reasons. And so I tell you: just let it be.<
>Then I will,< Nightgale sent sadly. Before leaving Greywind, she urged, >I ask only you speak with her one last time. I will retire for the evening.<
Nightgale walked off for the guest house.
Greywind walked away with Attendant Link close behind. Ever since Rainlash’s arrival, Greywind was anticipating the former Diaderet to engage in something conspicuous. The old Emperor was waiting for an opportunity to catch Rainlash in a dirty deed. To have a justification to boot her off the island. Yet Rainlash did nothing of the kind. She simply wandered the grounds, striking up conversation with anyone that wanted to talk. Of course, many Loroi ignored her. Some were even outright bitter toward her. It did little to faze Rainlash as she simply left such bitter souls alone. If Rainlash wanted to speak with Greywind, then why did she not approach? What was she waiting for? Greywind could always approach her, but she didn’t want to.
Greywind justified: I am not in the wrong. If my mother wants to speak, she can come to me.
Greywind needed something to distract her from this raging frustration. Passing through the gardens, she found it in the form of a mob of human women and Loroi females. The focus of their activity: a high-heels competition.
Curious, Greywind approached.
“Oh, your highness,” said Calista surprisedly. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?”
Greywind pointed toward a seated Torrai clumsily slipping her toes into a pair of red high-heels. “This,” she said. This was not the first time she witnessed the human women introducing the Loroi to high-heels. These awkward Terran footwear were reputed to make human females look more desirable to men by suspending women’s heels as they stood on the balls of their feet, thus pushing up their waists. It was also said to look fashionable, though how was beyond the Loroi.
The Torrai in high-heels tried hiding her discomfort as she stood, wobbling forward a few steps. She barely took her seventh as she lost her balance and collapsed. Teidar Hailstorm stood nearby to catch any contestant to avoid injury.
The women laughed.
The Torrai hastily ripped the high-heels off and throwing them away, roaring, “Stupid shows are impractical! No one can walk in these horrid things!”
The humans laughed louder at the Loroi’s frustration.
“How many Loroi have succeeded?” Greywind asked Calista.
Calista shrugged, “None.”
“And humans?”
“Han faired better than all the Loroi with eight steps. Negin made it to ten. Chessa did seventeen steps before dropping sideways.”
“Can you do better?”
“Ha! Watch me!”
Calista gracefully slipped on the red heels without even needing to sit. Humans whistled and Loroi jaws dropped as she marched effortlessly down the two aisles of spectators and back.
Together the humans chanted as Calista marched one foot in front of the other:
“Awww, it’s a girl thing with the right swing,
So move over while we do our thing!”
Calista winked at a few Loroi, who rolled their eyes at the obvious taunt. Greywind did not laugh, but she had to admit it was rather humorous for a human female to make a couple warriors jealous.
Fertile Spring and a few Nedatans admired the spectacle. Their Detairs stood close by. Greywind could see her second great grandson glowing with lustful wonder as he watched Calista walk with such confidence.
>Greetings, my sire,< Spring sent, taking notice of Greywind as she stood by him. He did poorly to conceal his thoughts, which were heavily focused on certain aspects of Calista’s anatomy bouncing with every stride.
>Spring, compose yourself,< Greywind shamefully urged him. >I know you can’t help being a male. But try to be proper.<
>I’m sorry, my elder,< Spring apologize bashfully. >But Calista’s bosom is very distracting.<
>I suppose it is... difficult not to notice.<
>She is very beautiful.<
>I suppose for a human Calista has attractive qualities,< sent Greywind.
Spring whispered exclusively to Greywind, >My elder, I must ask something.<
>What, Spring?< Greywind kept their exchange private.
Spring blushed, asking bashfully, >Would it be acceptable if a mating encounter could be arranged between me and Calista?<
Greywind suppressed her infuriation as she answered, >Absolutely not.<
>Why not?<
>Because you are a Loroi. She is a human.<
>Other warriors have mounted humans. Including some of the human staff here.<
>That's different. Besides, no one here, not even the humans, may mate unless it is approved. And off the creche grounds.<
>So why can't you approve mine with Calista?<
>You are a Nedatan. Coupling with a human would make you seem unclean in a female’s eyes.<
>Unclean? When last I checked these human residents are not carrying harmful contagions.<
>That’s not the point! You are a member of a respected order who must abide by standards if you want to keep your place in it. Nedatans that have engaged in improper conduct have suffered severe penalties. Sage Glory would be furious with you. You could be expelled from the order.<
>Not if you intervened.<
Greywind warned, >Spring! Just because you are the Emperor's second great grandson doesn't mean you get exclusive privileges. I am prepared to defend my kin from bad treatment. But I won't pardon willful mischief. You are a Nedatan with mating arrangements with some of the most respected warriors across Deinar. An endless stream of gorgeous mates. Why would you even need to couple with a human?<
>I can't explain it,< Spring admitted. >I feel drawn to her. And if she wanted to-<
>Think with your head, Spring. Not your blade.<
>But Emperor-<
>This discussion is finished. Now forget about it. And just so there is no misunderstanding, if you choose to seduce Calista, or any human for that matter, I will not come to your defense. Are my words clear?<
Spring wanted to argue, but saw there was no point. >Yes, my elder.<
>Good.<
Calista slipped out of the heels before calling, “Emperor, would you like to try?”
Greywind was not expecting the invitation. “While I take pride in my ability to govern and lead, I’m afraid my high-heel skills would be disappointing.”
“Try it, Emperor,” Han urged. “Azerein! Azerein!”
“Azerein! Azerein!” Together the humans chanted before their Loroi comrades joined in.
Greywind sighed and gave in. The old Emperor sat on the chair, slipping her feet out of her military grade boots and into the high-heels Calista handed over. The human shoes felt awfully uncomfortable. A single strap wedged itself between the big and index toes of each foot while another strap encircled the foot’s bridge. Greywind suppressed a grimace as the toe strap scraped against her flesh. With some help from Attendant Link and Calista, the old Emperor shakily rose to her feet. Signaling to be released, the women released Greywind.
The assembly of spectators became deathly silent as they watched their elected ruler march slowly, one stiff step in front of the other. Greywind strained to balance herself on the balls of her feet, since walking heel-to-toe felt too dangerous. The weight of her purple cape made it harder. Still Greywind pressed on. The humans and Loroi were mildly impressed when Greywind managed to reach twenty-one steps.
“Well done, your highness,” Calista applauded, followed by the other humans.
The Loroi also offered their compliments. The Nedatans snickered.
Greywind thought she felt something in her left calf sprain. She stumbled forward five steps before collapsing sideways. Hailstorm caught her with a thought, slowly letting down the Emperor.
“I, uh, guess you were right, Emperor,” said Calista with a nervous chuckle. “High-heels do seem beyond your skill.”
Greywind squinted back at Calista. For a moment Calista was afraid she was in trouble for the insubordinate comment. Laying on her side, Greywind surprised Calista with the Trudeau salute. The humans laughed with relief as did the Loroi. Attendant Link rushed forward to discard the high-heels and slip on the Emperor’s boots.
The humans applauded the Emperor.
“Bravo, Emperor,” Chessa complimented. “Best Loroi in high-heels. Maybe you ought to consider working in the fashion industry.”
“It could not afford me,” said Greywind, rising to her feet with Link’s aid.
The women laughed louder. As serious as Greywind looked all the time, they enjoyed her occasional comebacks.
Tempo forced her way through the crowd.
“Greetings, Tempo,” said Greywind. “Have you come to try the treacherous high-heel competition?”
Tempo did not look amused. In fact Greywind noticed the Sentinel’s essence glowing with worry.
Greywind asked, >Tempo, is there a problem?<
>Yes, Azerein. Ben has been injured.<
Last edited by Snoofman on Sat Feb 10, 2024 6:38 am, edited 2 times in total.
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wolf329
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Re: A Chorus of Stars
Going from a high heel competition to that, you sure know how to give the reader whiplash!
#1 Tempo simp
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?
Fun fact: did you know that "Loroi Union" has the same number of syllables as "California"?