The dread of the night will bare its teeth and then bite,

Waiting for its new king to be crowned and make things right.

Asim scaled the walls of the Noxseran palace, just as he and Kit had done every New Dawn, hoping to catch the first glimpse of Twin Sol after the longest night of the year.

His fingers gripped the same divots that had formed from countless climbs up, each indentation slowly becoming one with his grip. Every stone was like a long lost relative to Asim, getting to see one another once more on this special occasion.

He relished the challenge of climbing the domed palace. Its white facade, a stark contrast to the shadows that Ishani wrought.

From out beyond the city limits, the two would have looked like nothing more than ants climbing a steep, snowy mountain, yet from where they stood now, Asim felt as though he was on top of the world.

On the other hand, Kit regretted following Asim out yet again on New Dawn’s eve.

“Come on, Asim, slow down.”

Kit was a half-a-year older than Asim yet found himself nearly a head shorter than his friend.

Whenever he’d complain to his mother about their height difference, she would splatter him with kisses and hug him as if he was still her little boy.

“Oh, my raja betu…” His mother would say, smothering him in an embrace. “We’ve talked about this before, Kitara-bon. We’re all following our own path. Just because your friend stands taller than you doesn’t mean he is better than you or you better than him. Steady yourself and stay strong along your path. Be proud of who you are.”

Standing taller than me is an understatement, Kit considered as he watched Asim scale the outside of the palace with ease. Asim was built like an ox, just like his father.

Kit sometimes felt like he had fallen into of some sort of temporal stasis, stuck in an hourglasses’ sand while everyone around him raced past him.

Arms trembling, he took a deep breath and continued, refusing to look back down.

The night-time breeze wisped by, providing only a temporary respite from the sticky sweat and grime left over from a long day’s work with his father as one of the palace’s Emberkeepers. He felt the soot peel back as he lifted his hands from one stone to another, and for once thanked his father for putting him on furnace duty that morning.

“What’s taking you?” Asim called down from the ledge, his feet dangled down from the parapet that encircled the mighty dome. “My little sister can do better than that.”

“If I’m not mistaken,” Kit said in between breaths, “I’m the only one here who had to work all day.”

Asim’s thick curls fell in front of his face as he examined Kit’s every move. His mouth opened, as if to say something, and then reconsidered before he called down once more.

“Just watch out for any windows, will ya? Wouldn’t want to get caught up here, now, would you?”

“Yeah, and if we got caught it’d take the palace guards just as long to get up here as it would for us to scale back down the other end.”

Loose pebbles tumbled down as Kit clawed his way higher, avoiding the lone neighboring window.

When Kit was close enough, Asim reached down, the two locking hands, as Asim helped pull Kit up over the short marble wall. Together, they reclined up against the slanted roof to look out at Ishani’s gaze.

“You know, I’d be working too already if my parents let me.” Asim said more so to the wind than to Kit. “My parents say in two years when I’m done with my studies I can look into an apprenticeship.”

“Two years.” Kit silently shook his head. “By then I may be a Master Emberkeeper myself.”

Asim had always admired his friend’s work ethic. When he was but three and ten, he started to work night shifts with his father after his lessons were done. Now, three years later, he was finished with all his classes in the academy, or so he told Asim, and working full-time with his father.

“Don’t you ever get tired, Kit?”

This caused the lankier of the two friends to chuckle. “I’m tired right now. I can fall asleep right here if you’d just keep quiet for a minute.”

Kit ran his fingers over his shaved head, scratching along the way. Asim, accepting the silence, if only for a moment, looked over at his friend, remembering all the years they’d traversed up here to this exact spot.

“Don’t you ever wish we could go back in time and just be kids again?” Asim asked. “No work, no growing older, just the way we used to scour the courtyards below, finding new places to hide in and making them our own.”

Asim watched as a smile crept onto Kit’s face, the first time that night Asim recalled.

“Remember when we thought we’d found a new little hut hidden down in Sovereign’s Edge?” Kit’s deep-set eyes stayed locked on the imposing moon above them. “Smelled like bloody hell but it was ours.”

“And then we found old lady Shakuri on the pot with the worst case of the runs.”

Both burst out laughing.

“Worst hide-out ever.” Kit said through laughter.

“We probably cleared old lady Shakuri’s bowels though! I just don’t think she used that out-house ever again.” Asim added.

The pair let the laughter die back down to silence once more. That was indeed one fun memory Kit could recall living on this god-forsaken planet. Living in the hovels that made up Sovereign’s Edge brought more painful memories than pleasant ones for Kit and the rest of the families who lived there.

Finally, Kit built up the courage to look over at Asim. They’d been friends for so long, it was tough keeping anything from one another.

“In all honesty, I wouldn’t want to spend another damned minute on this planet if given the choice, so no, I wouldn’t want to relive my childhood.”

He said it flatly and with as little emotion as he could despite the wave of frustration washing over him. He knew Asim wouldn’t understand, and quite possibly take offense at what he said, but he still had to say it.

“I just want to get off of Noxsera as soon as I can. Whether as a Master Emberkeeper or from some other way.”

“What?” Asim couldn’t believe it. Kit and himself had grown up here on Noxsera, and he assumed Kit would always be here with him. “But I thought…”

“That we’d get to climb up here every New Dawn until we were old men?”

“No… it’s not that, it’s just…” But Asim couldn’t find the words. He knew Kit had a more difficult life than he did, he just never thought it would cause him to get up and leave his family and friends behind.

“If you need…” Asim started to say but Kit cut him off.

“Don’t worry, Asim.” Kit reached over and grabbed Asim’s hand. Asim gripped back. “We can barely afford a week’s meals, let alone a ticket on an off-planet Sailer, it won’t be for some time.”

Asim tried to picture Kit off on Verdura Prime solar farming or running his own market on Empyrian Faire, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t picture Kitara anywhere but by his side on Noxsera.

“Maybe things could change, maybe you’ll change your mind.”

“I don’t think so.” Kit resettled his back up against the scaled roof. “My mom says I will, that I’m meant for something greater…I know that sounds like a corny parent thing but…”

“Forget it.” Asim didn’t want to ruin the New Dawn. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night.”

He leaned his head back down against the dome, looking back up at the moon named after his great-grandmother.

八

Lysandra Rama woke up startled, drenched in a feverish sweat, her heart racing. The fresh night air of Noxsera crept through her window, wrapping itself around the woman’s shoulders as if trying to comfort her. 

It wasn’t her nightmares though that had awakened her, no, she was used to those terrors. She’d had the same nightmare time and time again, warning her of what was to come.

What frightened her most was that today those nightmares were set to become a reality.

“Compose yourself, Lysandra.”

The woman sat up on her elbows, her hair matching the hue of the fires that still burned outside of her window. The embers were remnants of bonfires that celebrated the eternal love of High Lord Damaris and his wife Ishani, the first High Lord and Lady of the Sekaaran galaxy. Now, the moon that bares the High Lady’s name, slowly revealed a new dawn.

She pulled her hair around one shoulder, cursing Ishani’s ever-present gaze, recalling the prophecy that was now ingrained into her mind. It was first recited by her mother over and over again, and then by herself, every night before sleep.

In twilight’s shadowed veil,

where Ishani shall stray,

Worlds will come in motion,

as a New Dawn brings decay.

Ravenous waters and Twin Sol’s fervent ray

Will unveil the one truth that remains:

We are now its prey.

Ishani was a true marvel, nearly double the size of Noxsera. No wonder Damaris named it after his wife, Rama considered, but now she is ready to draw her ire on us all.

How would she convince the current High Lord of what’s to come?

As Viceroy of the High Lord, it was her duty to serve his royal highness to the best of her abilities, yet time and time again she’d been met with prejudice against The Blessed Eye and the prophecy’s it wrought.

Perhaps, she thought, he needed to see it to believe it.

Getting up, she looked into her mirror, wiping down her face with a fresh towel. She could remember being a young girl, standing in front of the mirror just as she did now, trying to scrub away the freckles that littered her face. The sleepless nights she’d spent crying herself to sleep because no one else looked as she did on Noxsera.

There wasn’t much to say to a distraught adolescent girl, but her mother tried. She’d tell young Lysandra that she was touched by Twin Sol himself, blessed with his fiery strong will.

Now she used Twin Sol’s blessing to her advantage, grabbing a room’s attention just by stepping inside and never letting go. She must do the same tonight when she went to warn the High Lord one final time.

She made for her armoire, grabbing her silken robe and running, she’d have to forgo proper etiquette and skip her full ceremonial garb. Nonetheless, she had business to attend to and while it started with the High Lord, so much more weighed on tonight’s events besides him.

Two guards waited on either side of the High Lord’s doors, warily staring at the Viceroy.

Yes, that’s right, Rama said to herself, be afraid you two imbeciles.

“Lady Rama, is everything alright?” One guard inquired.

She now realized that she must look mad, hair askew, sweat ridden, and in her bed robe. She took a breath and ran a hand through her hair.

“No, I must see the High Lord immediately.”

“Lady Rama, what could be so urgent that you need to see the High Lord at this hour?” The second guard asked.

Rama didn’t have the time to work through all of this procedural drivel, so she cut to the chase.

“You both know what comes with being Viceroy, I have open access to the High Lord no matter the situation or hour, now will one of you get on with it or should I just barge in myself?”

She didn’t look at either of the guards but straight at the golden, ornate door that sat between them. Engraved on the door was a depiction of the first Noxseran settlers and the beginnings of their dynasty.

“How fortuitous.” She muttered.

The nervous steps of one of the guards strode behind the door and then back out.

“The High Lord will see you now.” He said, voice wavering.

What interested Rama most was that the High Lord must have been awake already. What for, though?

The second guard opened the door for Rama and there sat High Lord Ishir Fen, already in his formal regalia for the festivities later that day.

“Aren’t you a little early for that?” Rama pointed towards his medal-adorned jacket. She knew she was in a rush and that her comment would rile his lord, still she couldn’t help herself. She seemed to be quite good at annoying his royal highness lately.

High Lord Fen scowled at Rama, something she’d become accustomed to. He was hunched over, forearms leaning up against his knees. His fingers nervously played with an invisible string of twine.

“Nerves. For the commemoration later.” His words were short and barely audible through his well-kept beard.

Rama knew the High Lord held his grand-sires with the highest regards, the magnitude of having to live up to his deified ancestors often paralyzed him in indecision.

“Now,” High Lord Fen stretched up out of his seat, towering over his Viceroy.

By the Eye’s Sight, Rama thought, she always forgot what a mountain of a man he truly was until he stood right over her.

“What are you doing interrupting me, Lysandra, on such a reverent day?” His voice quickly rose to a shout. “At the crack of dawn, no less!”

Hold your ground, Lysandra.

“Sire, the prophecy, the one I’ve spoken of…”

“How many times have I said enough with your damned prophecy! I could care less what that ill-fated box has told you!”

“But as your Viceroy it is my duty to protect you from that which blinds you.”

Rama peered out past the High Lord towards his veranda, trying to catch a glimpse of Ishani and just how much time they had until the New Dawn.

“And it is my duty to consider all sides of the argument, all sides.” He stressed his final words. “My people deserve at least that.”

“Your people? You mean the people of Shinkai who will be consumed in its rapid tides, or do you mean the people of Kyberkan who will die either of starvation or heat exhaustion?”

Rama was incessant. Had the High Lord not listened to a word she had said over the last ten years?

“And then there’s here on Noxsera, who knows what Ishani’s wrath will bring to us.”

“Enough!” The veins in the High Lord’s neck pushed up so hard against his skin, Rama thought they may burst right then and there, ending her worries. “If you say one more thing that in anyway curses my grand-sire’s names I will have you hanged this very minute, do you understand?”

And there it was, Rama thought, where it always comes down to, his pride. The pride of not just him, but of the entire line of Fens. She understood how he could be blinded by such reverence, his ancestors were celebrated not just on New Dawn, but every single day here on Noxsera.

It is what it is, she supposed, she had to trust that The Blessed Eye would guide her now.

“I said, do you understand?” High Lord Fen barked.

“Yes, sire.”

Rama had enough of his High Lord, she could have a more poignant conversation with the wall if she wanted to. For now, she put the seed in his majesty’s head. She’d just to wait now.

“Now leave.” He ordered her.

Ishir Fen could still feel his heart racing, pounding up against his chest as he waited for Viceroy Rama to leave his study.

He reached up and unbuttoned his collar. “The audacity of that woman.”

What did it mean to be High Lord, anyway? He was born into the role, never earning it, still, there was much to be proud of. What mattered most to Ishir was preserving the work his forefathers put in place here on Noxsera and the little he could build upon was just icing on the cake for him. And Rama had the nerve to just spit on it all.

“Do it for the people…do it for the people?! To hell with the people if they besiege the Fen name.”

He slammed his fist into the wall.

“Ishani is gift to my people, not a curse.” He roared at the door as if he expected Rama to still be there.

Biting down his anger, he began to wear a divot into the carpet, pacing back and forth, cursing and muttering under his breath until he’d found himself out on his veranda. Ishani looked down at him, Twin Sol peaking around the eastern side of the moon, waiting to finally bring a new day.

The High Lord looked out over the sprawling metropolis that encircled his palace. The Night City, as all the locals had called it, stretched out beyond the horizon covering the entirety of Noxsera. The last survey of the population showed the planet to have more than half a billion people, although, by now, Ishir knew that number had grown substantially since that census three years ago.

The Endless Lands was what the Fen’s originally named their expansive home, a moniker that Ishir had made into his own recently.

“The name was once given to honor the fruitful lands our ancestors had discovered.” Ishir had told his son, Asim, as they both looked out onto the city. “The Endless Lands…as a people they felt that it was a blessing to find such expansive land to build upon on. But right now, I want you to look beyond the buildings, Asim, and beyond the people of Noxsera. The galaxy is now our Endless Land. What you’ll have to reign over one day. Eight planets all under the Fen rule, trusting in you to do the right thing.”

“How am I supposed to rule a galaxy when you and mom won’t even let me out of the palace?” Asim protested.

The damned kid was too ambitious for his own good, Ishir had thought, but he was becoming a man, and soon Ishir and his wife, Chantrea, would have to let Asim go.

“In due time, babu. If your yearning to explore, to learn burns this brightly when you’re High Lord I know you will flourish. I just want you to remember one thing, no matter where you go or what planet you end up on, Noxsera is your home.”

Ishir rested his palm up against his son’s chest. “You are tied here as I am and just as your children will be. We are at the heart of the galaxy, that’s why it’s important to stay here on Noxsera, to be at the center of the universe.”

Ishir could still see the pride that crept across his son’s face that day. The realization of what he will one day be asked to do. And the young man took it in stride.

“Ishi, it is you.” A soft voice called out, stirring him out of the fondness of that memory.

He turned to find his wife, the High Lady Chantrea Ros Fen, hair pulled up, still in her nightgown. She glided towards him, as graceful as can be, like the waters of her home planet.

“What was all that ruckus? I heard you from across the hall.”

She stood nearly as tall as the imposing High Lord, but slender in frame compared to the broad-shouldered High Lord.

“It’s that cursed Rama again with her prophecy.” He spat out. “And tonight, of all nights!”

He could feel his blood pumping again just at the thought of that blasted woman, yet the same rage didn’t seem to boil up within his wife. No, her response was unexpected.

Was that fear in her eyes or just curiosity, he wondered.

“Oh, is that to be tonight? That prophecy of hers?”

Despite the darting of her eyes, her voice never wavered.

“Yes, or so she says. How am I supposed to know.” Ishir flung his hand up off the veranda’s railing. “Or even trust what some machine told her would happen. And if it really is just a prophecy, who is she to be the one deciphering the message.”

High Lady Chantrea stepped closer to her husband now, eyes moving on to Ishani. “She is your Viceroy after all, you need some trust in her.”

“Yes, I trust her in all matters that have nothing to do with The Blessed Eye.”

“The Blessed Eye sees all, Ishir.”

Why’d Chantrea have to be so pragmatic. He knew she was probably right, but to hell with being right.

“Not me and not my grand-sires.”

He looked up to Ishani now too, wondering how his grandmother’s namesake could ever betray the Fen line. But it wasn’t her who did the betrayal, it was his legs at the moment, giving out beneath him as they quivered in place.

Before he could compose himself, Chantrea stumbled up to the rail, nearly falling over before Ishir grabbed her at the waist.

“What’s happening?” She grasped tightly onto the iron handhold.

The entire palace seemed to be trembling, stones tumbling down from above.

“Get in, now!” He grabbed his wife by the arm, pulling her back inside of the study.

The room shuddered, books falling to the floor, glasses dancing off tables.

He struggled to snake through the room as he felt his own body being pushed down to the ground. It was as if the Gods said, No! Stay right there!

“The kids!” Chantrea called out. “I have to get the kids.”

“Go, go get them.” He led her to the door. “I’ll catch up with you.”

He watched High Lady Chantrea as she found her balance, stumbling out of the doorway. The two guards, who were posted outside, tagged on either side of the High Lady, leading her down the hall.

Now he’d have to find that cursed woman, Rama.

八

Kit had enjoyed the last few minutes of silence, that is until Ishani started to pull away, momentarily revealing Twin Sol before the palace started to shudder and the city stirred.

Cries for help echoed out from the streets below as stone debris tumbled down from the palace’s facade.

Kit jolted upright. “My family!”

The labyrinth of man-made shelters that made up Sovereign’s Edge were directly underneath the palace and stretching all the way out to the palace walls. Most of the palace staff resided there due to the ease of access, along with a majority of Night City’s underprivileged. It was destitute and bereft of any sense of growth. If you were born in the slums, you would die in the slums.

If the palace collapsed, Kit knew there was no way his family would make it out alive.

Asim on the other hand only had one immediate concern, getting down alive. If that was even possible. Kitara had barely made it up under normal circumstances, he had wondered if their best course of action was to wait for whatever this was to die down.

As his hands searched for a safe place to hold, the roof’s rounded shingles blindly circled around beneath his grasp, as if the palace had come alive, ready to devour the two of them. It was a relentless fury, one that Asim had never before seen, its anger manifesting on the majestically rotund palace.

Asim choked on the cold morning air as he tried to catch his breath, but before he could even find his footing, Kit, at breakneck speed, was heading for the parapet.

“Kit, wait!”

A thunderous growl howled out as if two long-range Solar Sailer ships had just crashed into one another. Asim reflexively covered his ears as the sound washed over him, but he didn’t see any ships in sight.

He couldn’t worry about any crashes though, he just needed to reach Kit. Just reach Kit and then he can help him get to his family.

His legs were barely able to stand up straight as he staggered towards the ledge. He felt as though he was one of those swashbuckling thieves, sailing the open seas of Shinkai in the stories his mother would tell him as a boy.

How’d Kit even manage to get to where he was so quickly? Of course, the one time Asim couldn’t get his feet settled was the day that Kit decided to try and be a hero.

With one of Kit’s legs over the parapet, another tremor grabbed the palace by its shoulders, shaking it awake and sending the gangly silhouette over the edge.

“Kit! No!”

Asim broke for the stone mantle, praying to his ancestors that Kit was okay.

“Damn, damn, damn.” He muttered under his erratic breaths.

The morning dew had already risen, its thick haze adrift in the nighttime sky. As Asim reached the ledge, his heart stopped momentarily, seeing nothing but the mist, but then, there he was, Kit hanging on for dear life just out of arms reach.

Looking up at the moon, Asim pleaded with his great-grandmother.

“Please grant me a moment of stillness, just a moment to save Kit.”

Before he could see if the moon would allow his request, he slung himself over, one hand holding on to the ledge and one reaching down to Kit.

“Give me your hand.” Asim called down. He dug his toes into whatever divots they could find.

Kit shook his head, barely looking back up at his friend.

“I can’t…I can’t.”

Asim could see his friend’s arms trembling, mimicking the tower he clung on to.

“I don’t think I can hold on if I let go of one hand.” Kit pleaded.

Then, as if Ishani had finally come to a decision in regard to his plea, the palace stood still. An eerie silence hung in the air, only screams from below cried out through the new, sudden lull.

Even from where Asim hung, the streets were a dreadful mess of panic and despair. Everywhere he looked he saw nothing but wretched destruction.

The wretched destruction that his friend was about to fall down onto unless he found a way or a…window! There it was, the window he’d warned Kit to avoid earlier, just out of reach of Kit’s flailing legs.

“Hold on a little longer.” Asim wasn’t sure if he was talking to his friend or to the moon.

Readjusting his hold, he called out. “I have a plan.”

“Wait, wait, where are you going?” Kit called out as Asim climbed down, around, and besides him, before he pulled himself into the open window just below the two.

Twisting himself around to face the city once more, Asim stood up on the windowsill, just able to reach Kit’s leg.

“Okay, now trying to slowly lower yourself, I’m right here.”

Kit’s mind did as Asim requested but he was not sure that his arms would comply. If he could, he would slap himself upside the head for even thinking he’d be able to get down fast enough.

Maybe if he’d just waited and considered his opinions…

No, he thought, don’t let your past decisions weigh you down. Still, he needed to get down.

He knew that every second he wasted stuck here, clinging for his life, he wasted for his family below. And judging from the cries that rang out, he knew they were seconds he couldn’t afford to lose.

“Just go one stone at a time.” Asim called up.

Easier said than done, Kit thought, but did as was suggested.

His arms quivered in pain as he reached down to the next handhold.

One.

He did it, he did one.

Now two. He lowered his left hand down to meet his right as he could feel Asim getting a better grip on his leg.

“Just a few more, Kit.” Asim called out encouragingly. “I’m right here, don’t worry.”

Yes, he always was there, wasn’t he? Kit thought, trying to keep his mind wandering instead of focusing on his failing muscles.

Asim was like the stone he grappled with, a rock-solid friend, but how long would he be able to hold on to it? How long will that last once Asim was crowned High Lord.

Could High Lords have friends? He never saw High Lord Ishir with anyone but his council or wife. Maybe Asim would be different than his father, or perhaps as Kit suggested, its best if he moved on to another planet far from Asim and the Fen Dynasty.

As if in response to Kitara’s thoughts, the earth quaked again, this time more ferociously than before. The stone wall shifted around, like it was avoiding Kit’s grasp, causing him to lose his hold and fall.

He closed his eyes praying, hoping for a fast ending. He tried to save himself once, this time he didn’t have the strength to even try, he’d rather accept what The Blessed Eye had in store for him.

The free fall was enlightening. In that brief moment he’d given up everything, not caring what would happen when his body splattered against the cobblestone below, and then just as abruptly, he stopped, something grabbing hard around his wrists and yanking upwards.

“I got you.” Asim’s voice grunted as he pulled Kit up.

He opened his eyes to find Asim dangling out of the window, stretching down, holding both of Kit’s arms. He groaned as he hoisted Kit and himself back up into the window.

With every strained tow, Kitara couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever experience that type of ecstasy ever again. Being detached from all his troubles. He didn’t think he would.

The room that Asim pulled them into was barren besides a chair and a small, round table butted up against it, no one else around besides the pair. It seemed like a room barely used, caked in dust and cobwebs. Perhaps some type of sitting chambers for guests in waiting.

Not knowing what else to say, Kit said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

Asim looked besmirched. “Of course I did.” He patted Kit on the shoulder. “Now let’s go get your family.”

Kit watched as his friend ran to the door thinking maybe he was different after all.

八

High Lady Chantrea hurried across the hall to her children’s room. Her mind raced in a million different directions, each idea starting a new chain reaction that sent her into a downward spiral. Scenario after scenario flooded her mind and she prayed that none of those dark thoughts would come to life when she opened that door. Either way, she’d have to find a solution to whatever awaited her, she always did.

It was a woman’s blessing and curse, she bemused, taking a moment to genuflect on where her imagination took her. Ishir would lose his mind if he had to focus on more than one thing at a time. Her poor husband snapped every time Viceroy Rama merely looked at him the wrong way.

As she inched closer to the door, her legs stayed strong through the torrent of the turning hallway.

“Bless my bloody seafaring ancestors.” She cursed.

The children’s door was already forced ajar, barely hanging on to its hinges. Chantrea barged in, foregoing knocking. This time, she thought, Asim would have to live this once without the courtesy.

The dim night lights in the room flickered rhythmically with the vibrations of the palace walls. A small lump hid underneath the floral blankets on the far-side of the room.

Hovering over the lump stood a bulking, silhouetted figure, its bronzed-metal body reflecting the fluttering lights off it. Its head swiveled around, constantly surveying the room, its arms at the ready, waiting to protect the furled-up ball under the blankets. Its green eyes caught the High Lady’s and they both courteously nodded at one another.

Cara Veda, the children’s Au Pair, doing a proper job.

The High Lady directed her attention back to the shivering lump.

“Chanlina, is that you?”

The ball of fluff suddenly ruffled at the recognition of her mother’s voice. A mess of hair and two eyes popping out from behind the patchwork of flowers.

“Mama?”

Chantrea could see her daughter’s eyes trying to focus in on her through the dim light. There was such curiosity and wonder behind children’s eyes.

Picture frames and a mess of toys scattered the floors but there was no real damage yet.

She ran straight for her daughter, embracing her the only way a mother could.

“Mommy, what’s happening?” Princess Chanlina’s voice was soft and filled with terror.

“I…I don’t know, but it’s going to be alright. We’re going to be alright.”

There were some things parents just didn’t tell their children and a world-ending prophecy coming to fruition was one of them.

An eerie silence fell over High Lady Chantrea as she embraced her daughter. A silence so overwhelming that she could hear Lina’s heartbeat racing.

Her head darted over to Asim’s bed to find it empty, blanket thrown halfway off the bed.

“Lina dear, where is Asim?”

At the question Cara Veda stomped over to Asim’s bed, pulling off the blanket. Despite not having the words to speak, Chantrea swore she could read shock on the Au Pair’s face. The metal woman looked over at the High Lady as if to say, ‘it’s not me, it’s the blasted boy.’

She cursed her scallywag ancestors and their thirst for adventure. That squalling boy can’t stay still for one minute, she thought, she couldn’t imagine him ever having the patience to be High Lord.

“Cara Veda, what happened?” She knew it was Asim’s fault, he was too clever for his own good, there was no doubt about that. Perhaps he slipped out when Cara was helping the princess with her bath or just after dinner, still, she wanted the silent Au Pair to know she expected more out of her.

Above them, the crystal chandelier rocked, its precious jewels clattering together in anger, before they all unnaturally swung to one side.

Chantrea looked up in dismay. “What the…”

Like the winds of a maelstrom, Chantrea was pushed forward, toppling her onto Princess Lina’s bed as the girl screamed.

Across the room Cara Veda lost her balance, falling backwards onto Asim’s empty bed, her limbs flailing in the air.

The poor metal woman rocked back and forth trying to flip back over and all Lady Chantrea could think of were the great shellbacks of her home world. A mighty creature they were but were nothing more than a paperweight when flipped on to its twenty-foot shell by a rampant wave.

The brief joy of that sight was quickly gone as cracks stretched up the walls. It was only a matter of time before the ceiling caved in on them.

“Mama?” Lina called out from beneath her mother’s protection.

“We need to go, Lina dear.”

The High Lady got to her feet, slowly making her way to the fallen Au Pair.

“Come help me lift Cara dear.” She clutched to the side of the bed frame, trying to steady herself.

Princess Lina scrambled out of bed onto all fours, crawling over to her mother.

“Mama, I think I know where Asim is.”

This stopped Chantrea in her tracks.

“You do?” She stared over at her daughter.

Lina sheepishly nodded her head. “I pretend to sleep and then watch him sneak out.” She looked over at the open window next to her bed. “He always goes down to where that friend of his lives. Below the palace.”

“Kitara.” High Lady Chantrea’s voice cut in like a whip. “I should have known.”

The two boys had been inseparable since they were just toddlers. She should have known Asim would have dragged that poor boy wherever he went.

“Here.” Chantrea grunted as she pulled up Cara Veda. “Help me flip Cara dear and we’ll go find him.”

Once the Au Pair was up, Cara Veda tapped one metal hand against her chest, thanking the two and then picked the young girl up as High Lady Chantrea lead them out, the room crumbling around them.

八

Like a bucking bull, High Lord Fen stormed up the tower steps to Viceroy Rama’s room, his fists clenched white knuckled.

The narrow corridor up to her room shuddered ferociously, ready to consume the High Lord and crown his son the next of kin. Still, his rage blinded, oblivious to the destruction. He just had one thing on his mind and that was getting to Rama.

What was the Oracle’s Doctrine final play, that he couldn’t tell, and that’s what lead him into this maddened frenzy. His blessed wife, Chantrea, did her best to calm his nerves but he had to confront Rama once and for all.

When he reached the top of the tower, the door to her chambers was already opened. Opened purposefully, as if daring him to come inside.

The room was a mess, bookshelves fallen, mirrors shattered, and furnishings pushed off kilter. Viceroy Rama stood at the center of the room, a beacon of calmness amidst the hectic room. She we no longer in her bed robe, but wore her all-white sari, a thick band of cloth around her waist, and a hood pulled up over her fire-red hair.

“What have you done? What’s going on?” Ishir demanded.

Rama stood with her arms folded, hidden within her wide sleeves, a stoic face if he’d ever seen one. “You mean the prophecy sire? The one I’ve warned you about countless times.”

“The one in which you punish me with this witchcraft for not adhering to your cursed Eye! You and that order of yours!”

The sound of walls caving in echoed from further within the palace. Rama stayed calm, apparently not afraid of the collapsing building. Fen, on the other hand, had just noticed that one of Rama’s walls was completely toppled itself, revealing the city beyond.

“My order?” Rama strode to the torn opening, pointing out to the city. “You mean my order that has planned for this catastrophe despite your refusal? My order that, as we speak, is flying willing passengers off world to safety?”

High Lord Fen caught a glimpse of what Viceroy Rama was pointing at, a handful of ships hovered above the horizon before taking off into orbit.

“To…to safety?”

“Yes, to safety.” Outrage finally cut through Rama’s tone, no longer the serene timbre it was a moment ago. “The world around us will crumble to pieces and have to be rebuilt. This isn’t an earthquake, High Lord, this is a cosmic reckoning. Your blessed Ishani is pushing away from us, stretching out of orbit. Her gravitational waves rocking and crushing us all.”

Rama paused and ruefully scowled out at the sky. “Unfortunately, for anyone who does survives this mayhem, her majesty will not stray far enough, this planet will never see the light of day again, withering away beneath Ishani’s veil.”

Finally, she glared back over at the High Lord, no more pleasantries or honorifics, she was through with that. “What else were we to do? Follow your lead?”

Despite the tremors that surrounded him, the High Lord didn’t seem to believe her words. “It can’t be…it just can’t.”

“It is! And millions will perish because of you, because of your refusal to listen. At least those who did listen to us, many of which are devoted followers, will survive.”

“And where to? Your prophecy spoke of mayhem on Shinkai…Kyberkan…”

“To Galeon.”

“Galeon? And what are they to do on that icy rock?”

“Rebuild. Better to survive than die here, no?” Rama moved over to grab a packed tote. “And if you want to live then you’d better come with me. Despite my recommendations against it, the Regent Oracle advocated for there to be a shuttle awaiting the royal family today.”

“And we’re to go to Galeon as well? You’ve known this all along?” The High Lord shouted as Rama strode towards the door.

Of course, I’d known all along, Rama thought to herself, perhaps had you listened to me, to The Blessed Eye, we’d be in a better spot right now, not about to be crushed under the weight of the Fen Dynasty’s pompous ego.

“Yes, to Galeon.” Was all she decided to say. Better that way. If there was any chance of them fulfilling the prophecy they’d need to leave immediately.

“How am I to rule from the outskirts of the galaxy? I need to be with my people.”

“Be with your people? Your people are dying, and you will too.”

Rama had counseled the High Lord many times over the years but never once imagined he was truly this dense.

“You can start your dynasty anew on Galeon. We must go now, though, no more waiting.”

Rama left her room without looking back. The ceiling had now started to collapse around the High Lord.

Out on Galeon he’d be disconnected from the rest of the galaxy, how was he to help the other worlds rebuild after this calamity? It’d be cowardice to go hide away on that ball of ice.

Still, he had no time to think about that, he had to get his family to safety, whether it was with Rama or not.

Without a second thought, High Lord Ishir ran after his Viceroy.

八

Kit rushed through the servant’s quarters and out into the courtyard following Asim. It was the same door he and his father left after a night’s work.

They had scrambled as fast as they could down the back halls of the palace. The spiny, winding stairwells, which were made more for ease of access rather than comfort, quickly became deadly as the tight halls rampantly closed its rocky jaw down on the two.

Asim hurried away in the direction of where Kit lived. The two had met at his house countless times and Kit was sure Asim had figured out every which way of getting there after sneaking out.

May the Eye’s gaze be upon my family, Kit prayed to himself, may they still be protected by whatever roof was over their heads.

He thought of his father, who’d worked every day of his life since turning one and ten, and who would be hoping for a few hours of sleep before he had to wake up and do it all again.

He thought of his mother, who managed to keep their family of four fed. Who always stayed up late, worried, waiting for Kitara to come home, and whose faith was tightly woven around them. 

And most of all, he thought of his brother, Kaden, who could barely sit up on his own. Who, as we speak, would most likely be getting carried out to safety by his parents.

Still, optimism always fluttered around the family. It was a hope of a better life somewhere far away, a life that The Blessed Eye had promised. It was that hope that still flickered in the back of Kit’s mind.

It couldn’t all end here, it just couldn’t, he thought.

A deafening strike spun Kit and Asim’s attention back to the palace. The top of the tower they had just fled from came tumbling down in one absolute strike.

Asim froze in place, paralyzed by the shock of seeing part of his home collapse. The mere size of the rubble was frightening.

“Twin Sol’s fury, any one of those could have destroyed my house.” Kit whispered.

Two ships flew off beyond the palace, blasting off to safety. Kit recalled the night the Oracle’s Doctrine visited their house. It must have been three months ago now, and how they warned of this very night. Of what was to come from Ishani’s wrath. 

The High Seer offered Kitara and his family refuge off Noxsera. That they hoped to save as many devoted followers as they could, along with anyone else who would listen, with or without the High Lord’s permission. But the entire time, Kitara’s father sat there, shaking his head.

“No, no, no. High Lord Fen knows what he is doing. He is a righteous man, he’ll do what is right.”

Despite his faith, Kit’s father was also an ardent believer in the High Lord’s rule. He’d worked for the Fen’s nearly all his life and unconditionally trusted his Lord.

His mother, on the other hand, did not, and wanted at least to discuss their options, yet, by the time the High Seer had moved on to the next house, not putting up any opposition, it was decided. They would stay, trusting the High Lord’s judgment.

Kit looked back over at his friend, who still stood, astonished at the wreckage. Would you have made the same decision, he wondered. Perhaps he wouldn’t have if I were there with him.

The ruins that lay in front Asim, brought him back to reality. A reality where just a small fraction of the palace was the same size as Kitara’s entire home.

Perspective was everything, and sometimes you needed to be smacked in the face with a giant boulder to truly see it.

Now on the ground, Asim could see the true horror that had rained down on his home planet. The screams that were just muddled noises from high atop the palace, now were panicked cries, fearing for one’s life.

Barrels of burnt wood littered the outer banks of the courtyard that led down to the neighboring tenements, stretching out and under the palace.

How could such terror fall upon so many people? What could his father have even done to prevent this? Whatever this was.

He looked out past the palace, up at the moon, fearing what would come next. Yet, from this viewpoint, it seemed to have moved further away from Noxsera, if only a little bit. Perhaps the worst had already passed them.

He couldn’t imagine the weight that rested on his father’s shoulders right now. If this was what you had to deal with as High Lord, he questioned whether he’d be able to handle such pressure.  Nonetheless, he’d have his family by his side to guide him.

His family…this was the first time that night that Asim had thought about his family. His mother, little Lina. He was sure his father had them safe by now.

His family…

“Kit!” He cried, finally breaking out of his daze, but his friend was no longer there. Gone again before Asim could even act.

Asim turned, running down the snaking steps after Kit.

The clay roofs of Sovereign’s Edge broke the horizon as Asim scurried down, and then what was left of the neighborhood came into view. The roofs were no more than blanketed on top of collapsed houses, its white clay shattered to pieces, and there at the bottom stood Kit, hands held up to his head.

八

Heavy, clunking steps clattered as Cara Veda carried Princess Lina through the falling debris. A loud thump had sent Chantrea and their Au Pair nearly five feet in the air.

Were those screams, Chantrea wondered, or just the ghosts of years past that cried out over deafening clash? Back on her home world, unruly spirits were said to visit the living when death was nearby.

A shiver ran down her spine. “Come on, now, Cara dear, hurry up now.”

The hulking Au Pair had already taken a boulder to her head, just missing Lina, and causing Cara’s green eyes to flicker off momentarily. Chantrea considered taking Lina into her own arms, but had it been her who was the one hit, she’d be dead, and Lina crushed underneath her.

No, let the Au Pair do her job, she told herself.

Chantrea had never felt comfortable down in the slums. She was certainly used to a difficult lifestyle, she herself was hardened by the sea back on Shinkai. Still, there was something different here compared to life on a ship. Something that unnerved her. She felt as though someone lurked in every shadowed corner, waiting to jump out at her. Or maybe it was that smell, that rancid smell. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but whatever it was made her stomach curdle.

“Lina dear, are you sure this is where Asim is?”

Chantrea had only been down here one other time for, as Ishir put it, a neighborly check-in.

It was the High Lord’s job to get to know and understand his subjects, even the impoverished ones, he had told Chantrea, and so it was the High Lady’s job as well.

That day she’d unknowingly met Kitara’s parents. They were quiet, civil people, proud of who they were. They stood out to Chantrea that day and made her proud to find out her son associated with such sensible folks. She had hoped at the time that perhaps they could be a calming influence on the boy.

“Yes, mama.” Lina finally answered. Her brows were furrowed, and she scratched her head. “At least, I think so.”

It was an honest, mature look, one that startled Chantrea to see on young Lina’s face.  It was a brief look into the future of an older, wiser Lina. Or perhaps more frightening, seeing herself in the young girl.

And then they made it to the heart of the slums, or what once was the slums.

She reflexively went to cover Lina’s eyes, but Cara Veda already had the young girl’s head pushed up against her metal chest.

“Don’t look dear.” Chantrea whispered.

The earth continued to shudder, like the Gods were trying to piece together giant jig-saw puzzle, but not much was not much left standing to for the Gods to play with anymore.

Out of curiosity, morbid curiosity at that, the High Lady turned back around.

Half of the palace was gone as if it never had been there in the first place. She prayed that Ishir had made it out safely.

Turning back around, Chantrea’s breath escaped her as she focused on the carnage ahead of her.

Families bloodied, limping around, digging up rubble. Others hidden beneath, only a foot here or a hand there peeking out.

She was shell shocked. The cries for help were nothing more than a distant whisper.

And all the faces, faces she didn’t recognize despite living so close to them this entire time, they all stared at her, their eyes pleading for help. Did they recognize her or was she just an abled body that happened to be around?

What would have been had her husband listened to Viceroy Rama, she wondered. It was a poisonous thought, but one she had to ask herself, one she’d have to ask him. She just hoped and prayed, prayed to the wind and sea that Asim wasn’t in Kitara’s house.

八

An obsidian black ship, sleek and sharp to the point waited out front for the High Lord. This was not the type of transport the rest of the evacuees were using, no, those were large transport Sailers, this though.

“A Starshade…”

“Yes.” Rama confirmed breathlessly. “We had a feeling you wouldn’t be too…cooperative, and that if we were to make it off the planet, we’d need to make it out in a hurry.”

Ishir scowled at his Viceroy. Storming out of the palace so hastily, he’d nearly left Rama behind. Too bad he didn’t, he mused.

More of the Doctrine’s Seers, in their white robes and ornate headpieces, waited for the High Lord at the gang plank. An intricately carved chest waited between the robed men.

“We mustn’t waste any more time.” Rama clamored. “Get on the ship. Now.”

“Now? Now?” Ishir barked back. “Where’s my family? On-board?”

“No, sire.” Rama said blankly. He could see the anxiety building in her face, her eyes starting to dance around at the chaos that surrounded them. “Our guards couldn’t locate them.”

“You couldn’t locate them?” Ishir held back the urge to go choke the damned woman right then and there. “And what, were you just going to leave without them?”

“No, sire.”

“We’ll find my family first. Then I’ll get on-board.” He said flatly.

He wanted to curse Rama’s entire order, but he couldn’t, not if his family were to live, he needed their ship.

His head raced, wondering where Chantrea and the kids could have gone. The palace rocked and let out a mighty groan.

“I just hope they’ve made it out of the palace.” Ishir said, looking back at the falling giant.

He started to pace around the outer ward of the palace, trying to figure out where to go first, and then he heard it. It was faint, yet it was true. It was Chantrea’s voice.

“Asim!” she called out. “Asim!?”

“Chantrea?” He called back.

“Asim?” Her voice was more distant.

Where in Twin Sol’s fury was she?

She called once more and that’s when it clicked in. She was below him, down in Sovereign’s Edge.

He didn’t stop to wonder why, he just bolted for the closest stairwell down.

No more than fifty yards from the bottom of the steps was Chantrea and their Au Pair, Cara Veda. They were racing for a pile of debris.

Oh, no, please not Asim, he prayed, please not Asim.

A furor of footsteps clattered from behind, distracting the High Lord for the moment.

It was Rama.

Couldn’t the blasted woman leave me alone for once, he cursed.

Ishir looked back up to scorn his Viceroy, but she wasn’t paying any attention to him, no, her eyes were locked on Lady Chantrea and the pile of debris ahead. She seemed more concerned about reaching his family rather than catching up to him.

What was her damned play? He asked himself.

Just over Rama’s shoulder, back towards the palace was Ishani. Her gaze no longer calming to Ishir, but unsettling. He forced himself to look away, turning his attention back to his family. Back to getting to them.

Running as if his life depended it on, he could see Asim near the rubble, not underneath, trying to dig out someone.

“Daddy!” He heard a squeal of excitement and now saw Chanlina in the arms of Cara Veda.

“My Lina!” The young girl squirmed out of her Au Pair’s arms and hurried over to her father’s embrace.

A warm, welcoming hand rubbed his back.

“You made it.” It was Chantrea, her voice was tranquil as usual, but he had sensed something unnerving behind it.

“I did.” Then turning to his daughter. “Stay here with mama. Cara, give Asim and I a hand.”

“Kaden? Kaden?!” A new voice called out. “Mother? Father?”

Asim’s friend, Kitara was there, wrestling through what once was someone’s house.

Kitara looked up at the High Lord, eyes red with anguish.

“I can’t find them! I can’t find them!” He was covered in dirt and soot, blood dried up around his fingertips. This must be the third or fourth house they’ve dug through.

“I thought this was it…” Kit faltered. “I thought this was it, our home, but we can’t…”

“We won’t stop, Kit.” Ishir heard his son forcefully say. “Won’t we, father?”

Ishir looked down at his son, whose tunic was torn, and hair fallen down in his face, standing tall next to his friend.

“Yes, yes, we won’t.”

The High Lord could see it right then and there, he could sense it in the young man that stood before him. It was the same feeling he had when he spoke to Asim outside of his study. Pride rose inside Ishir, knowing without a doubt that one day his son would make a fine High Lord indeed.

“You damned fool!” Rama cursed out loud. She’d not meant to say it aloud, but what’s said is said.

The entire royal family turned accusingly towards the Viceroy. She was tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally, she just needed to see this prophecy through to the end.

“Will you just stop and listen. We need to go. All of you. If we don’t leave immediately, we’re endangering all of our lives, mine included. We must flee. Now.”

She looked up, trying to judge where Ishani was in regard to its orbit. The moon never set, bringing on Twin Sol’s dawn. Dusk was now eternal.

No, she thought, they didn’t have much more time.

“We only have a few moments before Ishani fully breaks away from our orbit and who knows what cosmic force will reign down on us then!”

“I’m not leaving them behind.” The almighty High Lord insisted to Rama.

Now he cares about his people. Now he wants to be their savior, does he now? Venom nearly spewed from Rama’s mouth. Perhaps he’s learned his lesson, but it’s too little too late.

Rama looked for help, any help to get them moving, to get the pieces of her plan in place and found High Lady Chantrea’s eyes.

“Ishir, I think we’ve ignored your Viceroy for far too long.” The High Lady said. The sweet, blessed High Lady.

High Lord Ishir stood up at this, inspecting his wife, surveying the destruction around him.

“Fine, take the High Lady and Princess Chanlina with you back to the Starshade.” He paused a moment before adding. “And Prince Asim as well. Best they are back on the ship. Cara Veda, Kitara, and I will find the boy’s family.”

Rama scowled at the half acceptance. The High Lord had one foot in the door and one foot out. Yes, he could save this young man’s family, but what of the rest of the families surely buried all around us? Is that what you call selective ruling?

“No, dad, no.” Asim protested.

“That’s enough.” The High Lord shot back. “My word is final.”

The High Lord’s dark wells of eyes stared off at his heir, never faltering. Asim stared back before wilting under his father’s presence.

One more pawn in motion, Rama thought, one more pawn and then they will all understand the true power of The Blessed Eye.

八

Ishir didn’t wait for any good-byes before lunging back into the wreckage. They’d be safe with Rama until he made it back to the ship, he knew she would at least do that. Kitara didn’t wait either.

Hell, I don’t blame the kid, the High Lord thought, I’d be neck deep if this was my family.

His legs trembled, though he was unsure if it was due to the earth or pure exhaustion. He could hear Cara Veda’s limbs pumping in and then out as she dug along with the two fevered men.

With hands clenched, the High Lord drove his pointed fingers through the gravel until they found something soft to the touch.

The sensation flipped a switch in Ishir, sending him into overdrive.

Dig, dammit, dig, he urged himself on.

Everything else around him blurred, his eyes focusing on one thing, salvation.

The makings of a face began to appear. A man. His brown skin, caked by the debris. His hair matched the white clay that covered the rest of his body. And his face, his face was familiar, yes, it was Kitara’s father, the Emberkeeper who worked around the palace.

The man looked like he’d lived a thousand years compared to the High Lord, yet they must have been near the same age.

His hands scoured for a pulse. The man’s neck was so thin and frail that it was easy enough for Ishir to find his artery.

He sighed. There was a pulse, a faint one, but constant.

“Dad…dad!” Kitara stumbled over. “Is he…?”

Kit couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t muster up the courage to say it. Is my father dead?

Ishir understood and said with great care. “He’s alive, he lives.”

He looked up to give the young man a reassuring nod, one that he’d done so many times before to his own kids, but as he did, he felt his eyes go cross and his head pushed down.

Three blurry Kitara’s rested in front of him, swaying back and forth. He felt an immense weight pressing down on his back.

The High Lord didn’t have to ask whether or not Kitara and Cara Veda felt the pressure, they too seemed to be struggling to even stand up straight.

Then that same screeching noise from earlier howled out of the abyss. The same metal on metal grinding he’d heard right after this entire mess had started. Like ships crashing into one another. Only this time, he knew exactly what it was.

He recalled Rama’s words.

We only have moments before Ishani fully breaks away, she had said, and who knows what cosmic force will reign down on us then!

She’d only just warned him, but it had felt like it was days ago.

He struggled, trying to turn around and see what Ishani’s wrath had brought but the force was too strong. The moon and its home planet were like two matching sides of a magnet, pushing one another away.

And then, just when Ishir didn’t think the strain could get any worse, a sonic boom shook the entire planet, sending the High Lord and his two companions to the ground, finally releasing them from its unseen hold.

Ishir’s eyes came back into focus on Ishani hovering above him. She was further away, judging by her size that was clear, but she still blocked Twin Sol just as Rama told. An endless night for the Endless Lands.

“What wretched path have you lead us down?”

A groan washed over his prophetic query. Kitara laid, splayed out along the rubble, eyes closed, blood trickling near his head.

Ishir ran his fingers through his hair.

Scorching sunlight, he thought, today was not his day.

“Cara Veda.” He called and the Au Pair’s green eyes flickered towards him. “Take Kitara back to the Starshade, I’ll find the rest of his family.”

She seemed to hesitate a moment, looking at him and then down at the rubble.

“Yes, that’s fine.” He muttered. “You can come back and help me carry the rest out.”

After the concession, she didn’t hesitate, kneeling down, her hydraulic joint letting out a hiss, and picked up the nearly grown man with ease, ambling back towards the palace.

Just as before, Ishir didn’t waste any time. Ishani’s retreat seemed to have done some good, pushing away most of the loose gravel to reveal the rest of Kitara’s family.

By the time Cara Veda returned, Ishir had pulled all three members of the family free, all three of them still alive.

There were still aftershocks that rumbled through the earth, and Ishir thought that would be the case for some time now. The rocking reminded Ishir of his and Chantrea’s honeymoon, back on Shinkai, sailing through their great archipelago, something he feared he’d never do again.

Screams for help, or just of fear cried out every now and then. This, he thought, was the new normal, at least for now.

“What’s one family’s life compared that of an entire planet?” He asked Cara Veda.

The Au Pair seemed to shrug what shoulders she had. She already had Kitara’s maimed brother in her arms.

“Can you take one more?” Ishir grunted as he pulled up Kitara’s mother.

Cara Veda nodded yes.

The High Lord helped sling the mother over one of Cara’s shoulders while the brother was moved to the other. Ishir lifted Kitara’s father over both of his shoulders and the pair started their hike back to the ship.

For the entire walk, Ishir swore he could feel the metal bot’s eyes darting back at him as if she had something to say but couldn’t.

Damned old tech, he cursed, he wanted to get a newer model, but the kids just loved Cara Veda too much, especially little Lina.

The walk back was draining to say the least. He once considered himself in good health for his age, now he was second guessing that. Although, the weight of another man draped over him didn’t help either.

Behind him, Cara Veda was a constant encouragement, literally pushing her hand up into his shoulders every time he rocked backwards.

The Starshade was still there, though Rama’s gang of robed fools were already on-board, along, Ishir assumed, with his family. Only Rama waited for them at the hatch bay.

And was the ship already in the air? Yes, it was, its engine hummed in an eager readiness. Damned woman is truly in a rush.

Ishir approached, Cara Veda keeping one step behind.

“My family’s on-board?”

Rama smug face squished into something of a smirk. “As promised. Along with the Prince’s friend.” She said bowing.

“Here.” Thud plopped down Kitara’s father. “Take him in, he needs the medtech immediately. Cara, you too.”

The Au Pair did as she was directed, dropping down Kitara’s mother and brother, but Rama didn’t move. She just glowered down at Ishir.

“Will you get a medtech or will I have to do that myself?”

The High Lord grabbed hold of the hatch to pull himself up, but his fingers were met by the stomp of a boot.

“No.” Rama hissed. “No, you won’t.”

“No? No?!” Ishir shouted. “Who are you to disobey your High Lord? You don’t think Asim or Chantrea won’t hear this and come get me?”

“No.” Rama answered flatly. “Not if they’ve been placed into their cryo-chambers already. It’s a long trip to Galeon after all.”

Ishir slammed his fist on the hatch this time. “Dammit, I’m coming up whether you like it or not.”

“No, no you’re not.” Rama said calmly. “I’ve seen your future, High Lord, through the Eye. The Doctrine has access to all the High Lord’s Sights. You’re to die here on Noxsera. It’s the only way that a new ruler will take your stead, one who’s seen the true power of The Blessed Eye and trusts it.”

Rama’s eyes burnt through Ishir, determined to finally see her blessed prophecy through.

“A ruler who’s seen the power that the Eye holds. A ruler whose ear is held by his dearest friend, a devoted follower in that, and who we just so happened to save.

“And you, High Lord…” Rama was now kneeling down to look the High Lord eye to eye. “You’ve played your part quite well, getting us all to where we needed to be.

“Consider your death a service to the Regent Oracle himself for future generations of disciples, for a galaxy built through the Eye’s sight, and of course, for keeping the next Regent Oracle safe, despite his bloodied head.”

And then she recited the prophecy in full. It was the first time Ishir had heard it completely since she first warned him.

“In twilight’s shadowed veil,

where Ishani shall stray,

Worlds will come in motion,

as a New Dawn brings decay.

Ravenous waters and Twin Sol’s fervent rays,

Will unveil the one truth that remains: We are now its prey.

The dread of the night will bare its teeth and then bite,

Waiting for its new king to be crowned and make things right.

Despite the hardened times, a new beginning will arrive,

As only the truly righteous will look to survive.”

The words were nothing more than that when he’d first heard them ten years ago. Had he listened, had he believed, he’d be safe on Galeon already, with his family. Yes, but he’d be tied to The Blessed Eye if he had.

Now Ishir saw nothing but red, his hands clenching in and out. Cara Veda’s uneasy steps plopping around behind him. His mind raced through a million questions, but he didn’t want to ask any of them, he just had one thing on his mind.

“If I must die here, then so must you!” His hands lunged at the Viceroy, grappling her white robe, and flinging her down to the cobblestone.

If my family’s already been put into their long sleep, her guards might be as well, he thought. It was a risk worth taking for Ishir.

Rama struggled beneath Ishir’s vise-like grip. He let his hands crawl up to her neck, her thin, frail neck, just like Kitara’s father except this one was not worth saving.

He waited, checking back up at the Starshade but no one came, or at least Ishir heard no footsteps from above. All he heard was Rama gasp for air as his grip grew tighter.

“You caused this all!” He growled. “You did this, not me!”

Still, no one came to help Rama. Her eyes bulged, the freckles on her once-smooth face stretched out as her mouth gasped for air.

The crunching of her neck was the last thing Ishir heard before the Starshade’s engines ignited.

A firm piece of metal clanked against his back. Cara Veda. He’d forgotten she was there. Her stout, bronzed arm stretched out to the now departing Starshade.

Rama didn’t fight at all. No kicking or screaming. It was just enough to give the Starshade an opportunity to take off. Ishir swore at the now distant ship.

They were left alone. Alone on Noxsera. The final link in The Blessed Eye’s prophecy.

“Yes, a new king will be crowned.”

He felt his body giving up against his will. His legs dropping to their knees. His arms hanging limp. His body had finally had enough. The High Lord let out a guttural roar, one that felt like a séance, ridding himself of all his demons, all of what he’d been put through this day.

He didn’t bother looking at Rama, she was dead, and he knew it, he felt it in his hands, but what now?

The Starshade was already nothing more than a mere twinkle in the sky, fleeing Ishani’s grasp for greener pastures.

At least he’d gotten his family to safety, he mused. Asim would make a good ruler despite Rama’s claims, he saw that as clear as day tonight. He won’t let the Oracle or that boy Kitara poison his thoughts. The Dynasty will survive, just as it did every time a new High Lord was crowned, and Ishir will become just another name in the history books.

Cara Veda rested one of her clamped hands on Ishir’s shoulder.

The ground shuddered again.

“Another aftershock.” He said up to Cara Veda.

Howling and screaming accompanied the tremors, followed by the drumming of falling debris. The cries were close by. The palace. His palace once upon a time. There still must be staff inside.

He may die here, thinking of Rama’s last words, but if he did, he’d die saving his people.

“I won’t die here alone and useless.” His knees creaked as he stood up next to the Au Pair. “Not if I can help. Will you come?”

Cara Veda nodded, a short confident nod.

Ishir, the once and former High Lord of the Fen Dynasty ran off into his crumbling palace one last time, for he knew that he would soon come to rest under Ishani’s Veil.

Copyright William Meier Jr. 2023 ©