He
takes her hand and helps her out of the craft, his eyes lowered
respectfully. Lilandra holds his hand and looks around the hangar,
hardly believing that she is at last home. She studies the young man
assisting her, and recognizes Alex Summers, but there are changes to
him here that disturb her beyond vocalization. The tattoos that curl
gracefully up and down from his brown eyes, the feathered wig, the
ceremonial clothes, the submissive yet forceful way he moves like a
soldier awaiting an order.
But is the golden chain around his
throat that draws her attention, more symbolic than binding it
nevertheless tells her the most important thing about the man Alex
Summers is here.
"My god, you are a slave." She
whispers.
The young man drops her hand and looks up into her
eyes, "I am the Chosen of the Majestor." He says, managing to put
every possible ounce of dignity into the statement, pronouncing the
bird-song language of the Shi'ar as if he had been born to it.
Lilandra feels a great pain in her chest, looking sadly at
the young man, "What do they call you?"
"I am D'Alken
of House Neramani." He answers, proud of the name.
She
wants to say something but in the end she merely offers her arm,
"Take me to my brother,"
D'Alken takes her arm, relieved
that he doesn't have to talk about himself anymore, "My Lord
apologizes for not receiving you himself."
"Well, a
Majestor's time is never his own." Lilandra smiles,
understandingly.
"No, my Lady, it is not." D'Alken
agrees and he escorts her to his skimmer, emblazoned with the royal
crest.
She is surprised to see that it is a ground model.
"You don't fly, D'Alken?"
"No." he admits, "It
is my shame but I am uncomfortable with upper sky journeys."
"Afraid
of flying?" she asks.
He looks her in the eye and says,
"Afraid of falling, my Lady."
Lilandra nods wisely as if
she knows a secret that D'Alken has forgotten, which possibly she
does. She changes the subject, "What did D'Ken tell you of
me?"
"I know you are his oldest sister." He answers,
"And that you were presumed to be lost in battle. Your arrival has
set the palace in an uproar." The slave says, his eyes twinkling
mischievously.
Lilandra smirks, "I imagine Deathbird is none
to pleased. I know she was the last one to mourn my death."
He
shrugs, and slides behind the controls of the skimmer, "I am not
privy to my mastress's thoughts, Lady Lilandra."
She
smiles, "You have been trained very well, D'Alken. No questions
as to where I have been?"
The young man looks fixedly at the
road ahead of him, the skimmer passing barely a foot above the
hardpack, "If your Ladyship wishes to tell me. It is not in my
upbringing to question my betters." The life fades from his face
and he says, bluntly, "As you said, I have been trained very
well."
Lilandra looks at this tall and handsome man, trying
to see the real him beneath the wing and ink and 'uniform.' He is
not what she would term a lesser being on any world, in any reality,
but she suddenly understands that more than his body had been tamed
by her brother. Freeing him and sending him home to where he
belonged, was going to be harder than she expected when she first set
her faux-human eyes on him in another dimension. This needed to be
done delicately or she was going to damage him.
"I have been
trapped in another dimension for the past fifteen years, Only now
have I managed to escape." She says, carefully, "I was abandoned
on a planet named Earth."
D'Alken looks at her, sharply,
and says, "Earth?"
She hopes for just a moment that his
reaction is one of recognition but instead his eyes grow cold and
greedy, a look she has seen before on her brother's face, the look
of battle lust that had left her stranded for so very long.
"My
Master will want to know everything that you learned, how you
escaped, what their secret is." He says, eagerly, "You will be
able to give him the means to at last conquer that planet. It is his
dearest desire, his greatest obsession."
"And you share in
his mania, young D'Alken?" Lilandra asks.
The slave, body
and mind and soul the property of the ruthless Majestor, smiles a
hard and frightening smile. "It is what I have trained for since I
was a child, My Lady."
Lilandra looks ahead at the palace
rising before them and suppresses a shudder.
D'Ken
and Lady Deathbird await in their throne room, for their long last
sibling. She smirks at the sight of them as D'Alken leads her into
the grand chamber. The Majestor is puffed up with pomp and
importance, his sister/consort is miserable, her feathers ruffled
anxiously. Lilandra stands a moment at the door and takes in the
sight, wondering how things had changed since her shipwreck.
She
brushes at her silver banded armor and removes her helmet before
going to greet them. D'Alken immediately holds his hands out to
take it. She smiles, gently at him.
"Little Human, you are
not my slave. It will not harm me to hold my own helmet."
D'Alken
smiles, too, and this is not a smile of lust for mayhem. He looks for
just a moment like a child who has suddenly found a friend. "It
would be my honor, my Lady, to carry it for you."
Lilandra
pauses a moment, and then hands it to him, His hands accidentally
touch hers and his face reddens.
"My boy, don't just stand
there moon-eyed!" D'Ken calls, 'Bring our lady sister to greet
us."
The young man, embarrassed by his attentions, flushes
an even deep red, which Lilandra finds charming, "Please, this way,
My lady." He manages.
Lilandra is halfway down the long
processional before she breaks into an undignified run. D'Ken has
her in his arms before she can say another word, "Lil, you have
returned to me, you have returned to us."
"D'Ken, my
dearest brother, my love, how I have missed you." She says,
ruffling his head plume with her warm breath on his neck. "I have
missed so much. Your ascension to the throne. Your marriage."
They
part and Lady Deathbird slowly descends from the dais. "My sister."
She greets, in a voice of ice, "Welcome home."
"My Lady
Liege." Lilandra makes a respectful bob of her head that belies the
equally frosty tone of her own words, "You look well."
"As
do you." Deathbird says, the feathers on her unseemly wings
bristling, "Especially considering the reports of your
death."
Lilandra smirks, "Perhaps that report was filed
too hastily. What was it that happened, D'Ken? Why was I left
behind in that dimension?"
"The portal failed." D'Ken
says, "The Earthers defended themselves somehow against our attack.
The sample was damaged beyond repair and we have been unable to
retrieve any useful information from what we did manage to
take."
Lilandra looks over at D'Alken, who does not react
to this strange and cryptic report in the slightest. He stands
unobtrusively beside his master's throne, looking for all intents
and purposes like a well-heeled pet, obviously what D'Ken has made
him into. "What you have done to this one is remarkable. He is so
young. You must have acquired him as a mere child."
D'Ken
reaches over and runs a hand down the tattooed cheek of his toy and
smiles, "D'Alken has been my greatest joy since he came to me. He
will be the one to lead my armies when Earth is at last at my
mercies. Is that not right, my hatchling?"
"It is my
greatest honor to serve as your sword, Master." D'Alken says,
earnestly.
"I have no doubt that it is, D'Alken." D'Ken
says, "Now, Lilandra, walk with me and tell me all that you have
seen, all that you have done on that infernal planet. I wish to know
it like I know my own. That dimension tests me, and you know how I
hate to be tested."
Lilandra takes his arm, "How well I
know."
D'Ken looks at his servant as he leaves, "D'Alken,
have the chambermaids reopen Lady Lilandra's rooms and tell the
cooks to prepare a feast. Tonight we celebrate our sister's
homecoming."
The human bows his head, "I am already gone."
He says.
Then, Deathbird is alone, forgotten in the empty
room. "The Precious One has returned. This does not bode well for
my chances at survival." She mutters beneath her breath, "Our
Lady Lilandra must not be allowed to reclaim her place in D'Ken's
heart. With the human there already, there will be no more room for
me."
An evil smile suddenly crosses her face.
"Unless
his heart is emptied, entirely." She muses.
