10
Nefertila
100,000 years ago
"...I heard from the Tribunal that the three new planets have been ordered for a re-creation. What a waste...we were in negotiations of seeding them for the last decade, and then this. Not unless Queen Ephara had a hand in this, I wouldn't be surprised..."
"...It was strange indeed, over one hundred fifty thousand years, and yet it had not reached its peak. We thought it was rather curious..."
"...Congratulations on your seventieth millennia, Milord. We heard that it was quite a celebration in your residence. You know our informants never fail us to share their experiences..."
"...Those rebels are nothing but young fools—commoners; who are in want of things out of their reach. Really, people should know their place...aren't they thankful enough of what we've given? Has it not been abundant?..."
"...She's very beautiful, Your Majesty. A true vision. A perfect merge between you and His Majesty."
There were different conversations floating around the dinner table that night. Some of the High Lords from the Tribunal were invited in the Abrasax palace.
"Thank you," the High Queen responded, "I'm pleased to hear the complement...everything is so fresh. From the moment she was born, to this present day, I still can't believe the heavens showed mercy to an old woman such as myself...finally, a child. But pray, she is a handful. The other day the servants caught her again trying to escape the palace. You know how rumours fly. I can't have my only daughter wandering about the 'verse. Barely out of her second decade, and she's up and about everything. Her tutors adore her. A very quick study, they say. Sixteen languages in less than seven years. She beat me by four languages! And five of which are intergalactic. One rural; why she bothered to study that, I don't know, it's useless. I suppose she's only restless. The palace can be very...suffocating."
"Six, my Queen."
The entire room grew quiet.
The High King of Abrasax has barely spoken a word since dinner had begun. His Majesty, having travelled lightyears from his home to assess their refineries, was perhaps exhausted from his journey.
"King Ra," The High Queen smiled, "Is that so? Pardon my memory."
Seated across each other, the patriarch of the Abrasax Dynasty gazed at his wife, though with eyes that spoke of quiet promises, and an obvious weariness, he managed to address his guests with his first comment.
"And two rural," he added, and his mood began to adjust to his guests, "It originated from an old galaxy from my great grandfather. Perhaps she stumbled upon our archive and read about it. In it was a very interesting planet. My great grandfather pardoned an entire ship of immigrants from the harvest. Of course, it's rarely done. But their development had been so advanced, they were able to detect the ships and have deduced our purpose. They managed to create a technology to communicate with us. I believe their descendants still live till today. They've integrated well into the commonwealth."
"They must have a town of their own by now!" one of the guests commented, and everyone else laughed.
The woman who inquired upon the High King's daughter decided to ask yet another question.
"Princess Nefertila celebrated her sixteenth birthday only last year, did she not?"
"Yes," the High Queen replied, "her father gifted her by creating a new splice under the gene of her choosing. What did she choose again, my King?"
The King smiled, sharing a quick tender moment with his Queen, who, through her long dark lashes, sought his blue eyes with humour.
Of course the queen knew. No detail regarding their daughter could escape his Queen's knowledge. It was a test of course; if he was paying attention to their family.
"A dragon, Queen Khali. An extinct creature from yet another defunct galaxy that your daughter found in a scroll somewhere...we had to send an entire crew to retrieve a DNA sample. General Pha of the Aegis is thankful for the splice, by the way. Apparently my daughter has a taste for aggression; the splice she suggested has now become a new unit in the military. Massive talking reptiles. Bred for battle and terminations."
"I'm sure they will be useful to the Tribunal." One of the High Lords remarked.
"To the Commonwealth." Queen Khali hastily replied, her tone sounding somewhat, defensive.
The High Lord smiled forcedly, and nodded once, "Yes, of course—for the Commonwealth."
King Ra didn't miss a beat; he looked at his wife and his guests while taking a sip of nectar from his golden cup.
"Her Majesty," another interjected. "Are you attending Queen Ephara's third wedding? We heard an entire city will."
Queen Khali laughed softly, which put an unnoticed smile on King Ra's face.
"Lady Thalia, perhaps half of the universe will if she could invite them all! She's very much in love with her fiancé is she not? Quite the catch they said, a general from a neighbouring galaxy, and they met during the time of..."
That night, three moons shone exceptionally bright. The elders called it, a Triumvirate. There was an old story of three High Kings who protected a genetic re-occurrence hundreds of eons ago. The child who was born under the Triumvirate was said to have the power of cosmic regeneration. Before the child's birth, the Universe was tearing itself apart from the very first war, and their technology almost annihilated all life forms. The child became a man, and when he died, the Universe returned to its cosmic balance. Peace.
Unfortunately, the peace didn't last long, and successive wars broke out.
But never as terrible as the first.
Gazing upwards to the moonlit sky, a young princess watched the heavens, and the legendary Triumvirate gleaming proudly. She stood there, mesmerized in her soft layers of night robe, barefoot, and hair in complete disarray.
"Princess, time to sleep..."
The nurse had spoken, and Nefertila scowled at the thought of slumber.
Tomorrow, she would have her written examinations from her tutors, and it would be decided if she was allowed to advance her studies.
She rolled her eyes at the thought of mathematical computations. She loved languages though. She never failed any of her language tests. Her tutors were proud of her, but they keep reminding her that her strength is only as good as her weakness.
To strengthen the weakest subject, is to eliminate your weakest link, and turn it into an asset.
They're wasting their time. Nefertila thought sourly, playing with the leaves from the balcony.
A small bird perched itself on the balustrade.
Nefertila smiled in awe, and her eyes widened with excitement. She giggled at the sight of a small bird before her, the tail so long with red and blue feathers. It looked back at her, its head bending to the side, just as curious.
It decided to turn around. And Nefertila followed it. It was walking, but one feet seemed to be injured. It was limping ever so slightly, and Nefertila noticed. It flapped its wings and began to fly,
"No!" Nefertila gasped, watching the small bird struggle with its flight.
It flew haphazardly, trying to fly higher to reach this tree, but fell short, grazing against the branches, and faltering down.
Nefertila felt frantic. She looked behind her, relieved that her nurse was absent; possibly out to get water.
She hurried then. This was the only moment to escape.
She sprinted for the door, but not before she stuffed her covers with pillows to feign her sleeping figure.
Her night robe glided across the marble steps that spiralled downstairs and towards the front door.
Nefertila hurried towards the tree.
If it were up to the High Queen, she would have done away with that dinner. Clever little things, is what she thought of her guests. They always left with new stories to tell the High Lords. For the Tribunal to entertain themselves, and quite possibly to inform old rivals from too distant galaxies that hold no genuine threat to the Abrasax family.
King Ra, with Queen Khali at his side, watched their guests climb on the ship that would escort them back to their homes.
"How I hate galaxy 38's High Lords." Queen Khali spoke, her hand tucked inside King Ra's arm. "They have the fastest tongues and most discriminating eyes. That Lord Zeyne. I hate him."
"Hate is a strong word, my Queen..." King Ra whispered. He turned to face her, and brushed his palm above her face, upwards, casting only a shadow. Queen Khali closed her eyes at her husband's sudden display of affection.
It was an intimate gesture. Queen Khali mirrored her husband, and when it was done, he took her hand and kissed the inside of her palm.
The dinner was over, and the servants hurried with all their grace to clean up so they can return in their quarters to rest. They had finished serving the guards who would take the next shift guarding the north tower. They moved quietly and steadily, minding their tasks.
The guardsmen met first before they dispersed. A standard protocol of debriefing each other was never missed, especially when a new guard was included in the watch.
A boy, hardly a man, who applied for the guardsmen recently passed the physical tests. He was barely seventeen, according to their records, and he had been travelling from the east of the commonwealth. He reported no families, no guardians, but a man for himself throughout the years.
An orphan who worked his way into labour. The commander of the North tower was sceptical about letting a neophyte join the force, especially someone who was accustomed to living and working alone.
But he was hard working, and strong. He could at least read and write. More importantly, his physicals were above average. The boy respected his authorities and he followed orders easily. He gave no one any problem.
After debriefing, the boy received his first instructions. He was stationed at the northwest tower, and he would watch it for the next eight hours.
They were provided with their basic weapons; a sheath attached to their waist for their blade, and a spear.
On they went according to their posts, silently and purposeful.
Nefertila restrained herself from crying. She stroked the small bird with her fingers, and tried to perch it upright. It would fall helplessly on its side, and this brought her distress.
She heard some chirping above the tree, and realized the identical sound. Nefertila figured there was a nest that her small friend was trying to fly back to. Those must be its siblings. Or mother.
She knew she had to return the bird, and she stared at the trunk of the tree before her.
But how would she climb this tree using one hand?
A cold sweat formed at her brow and she swallowed hard. She can't turn back now.
She looked down at her gown, and stared at the small space between her breasts.
Without another moment's hesitation, she placed her dear friend inside, and grappled the tree and stepped on the shortest and nearest branch.
One foot after the other, one branch after the next, Nefertila grew close to the nest.
One more. She thought triumphantly.
"What are you doing?"
Nefertila gasped, her eyes widened, and held the branch beneath her as tight as she could.
She looked down below, and there, a guardsman stood.
Oh no. She closed her eyes shut, forgetting about this detail.
"Please come down." The guard said, blinking, looking up. "You won't make it."
Nefertila's brows rose. She was appalled by the guard's audacity. She squinted her eyes to look him up close.
Why he was young. No older than a man of twenty. Definitely less than thirty.
"I am the Crown Princess of Abrasax, guardsman. I would have you know, that, I am on a mission. To. Return something."
The bird between her breasts chirped, and Nefertila bit her lip.
The guard below her looked away. And she noticed his shoulders were racking a little.
He was laughing!
"A-Are you laughing at me?! I-I am—"
"Princess," the guardsman cleared his throat, forcing his best to hide a smile. "Your Majesty, please come down."
Nefertila looked back at the nest above. She looked below at her breasts. The bird looked back at her.
"Princess."
"I know! I heard."
He laughed again. Now it was audible.
Nefertila looked down at him and noticed that he rested his spear on the ground. He took off his helmet, and with swift movements, climbed the tree.
Nefertila was horrified at the speed he exhibited, whereas she remembered sweating profusely just to get from one branch to another.
He was right in front of her now. He was standing on a branch below him. While she rode the branch his hands were perched on.
At eye level, Nefertila confirmed his youth.
No older than twenty...
The guard stared back at her.
For a moment, they were studying each other.
The small bird chirped and Nefertila's head shifted down. Her cheeks suddenly grew very warm.
"Princess," the guard began, "I'm afraid I have to accomplish your mission from here. But I need to bring you down first."
"No." She scowled. "I'm bringing him to his mother. She's waiting right there." She pointed above at the nest.
"I understand." He replied, looking at her eyes steadily, "But you will not make it, Your Majesty. That branch is too thin. It cannot support your weight."
"Upon my word!" Nefertila exclaimed, "I weigh like a feather!"
The guardsman looked at Nefertila, his eyes unblinking, and Nefertila felt embarrassed for a second.
But the next one changed her feelings all the more.
The guardsman moved close when he was near her, he turned around, steadying himself carefully.
"What are you doing?" Nefertila asked.
"Please climb at my back. I cannot carry you down facing your Majesty."
"Oh for goodness' sake, I can climb down—the same way I climbed up."
The guard turned around to look back at her. He waited for her to climb down.
Nefertila looked back down, and swallowed hard.
It was gradually occurring to her, that, perhaps going up was easy, however, climbing back down...
The guard turned around again, his back facing her.
Nefertila swallowed a cry, her fists drenched with sweat. She inched close to the guard, wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist.
The guard swiftly turned to the trunk, holding the branches firmly.
Carefully, he descended towards the ground, and when they reached it, he slowly knelt to the grass.
Princess Nefertila let him go. She stood up, not knowing what to do next.
When the guardsman faced her, he was slightly looking down. The Crown Princess was small.
What a tall boy for less than twenty. Nefertila's brows met, her face looking puzzled. Never mind!
She looked down at her breasts and the small bird she found laid there, eyes half closed. She gently pulled it out with her two hands.
Before she could retrieve it, the guardsman turned around quickly. His head turning elsewhere.
Nefertila didn't mind his reaction and proceeded with the retrieval.
"Here." She said, and he turned back around. She looked up at his face, which was suddenly flushed.
"Make sure to put him back, or you will answer to me." Her eyes looked at him sternly.
The guardsman could only nod in obedience.
She placed the small bird on his hand, and he took it, their fingers brushing lightly.
He was looking at her face and was trying to focus on the bird.
The next moment he was back up the tree, and carefully, Nefertila saw him return the bird.
When he got back down, he turned around to look at the princess, but she was already running back to the tower.
The guard looked at her, frozen, watching the Crown Princess running barefoot across the grass and toward the marble floor of the front door. She took one last look of him before closing it.
Nefertila hurried upstairs, catching her breath, making sure her footsteps were light. The nurse was asleep downstairs in her own room. When Nefertila reached hers, she quickly went to the balcony, her hands gripping the balustrade for support.
She saw him bending down to pick up his helmet. He placed it back on, and took his spear.
"Guardsman!" she called his attention.
The guardsman looked up, momentarily paralyzed.
She flapped her hand, gesturing him to come close. Her face withdrawn from any emotion.
He looked around him, and walked closer.
When he was beneath her balcony, he stopped, and waited.
"What is your name?" her chin was up, but her eyes were watching him.
"Thar, Your Majesty."
"Thar." Nefertila repeated. "Guardsman Thar...thank you...for aiding me..."
Thar stared at the princess for a moment. And he blinked his eyes, as if they were strained. He looked down at his feet, and he bowed. "It is my pleasure, Your Majesty."
And when he looked up, she was no longer there.