Chapter 18: Cryptic Whisper
Twiddling two of my thumbs in awkward silence, I try to calm my quickly beating heart. Deciding to once again look around the phantom I have found myself in, I begin to glance around the compartment.
The first and most obvious person that contributed to my nerves was the lazily floating High Prophet. The large golden crown and aged figure of the Heirarch didn't seem to remove any sign of authority from the san'shyuum, even if he did seem to be fidgeting with some communications equipment.
Honestly I was simply grateful that his attention didn't seem to be entirely focused on me.
Thankfully, the other two prophet Heirarchs seem to have been left behind, and it was only a single prophet that decided to follow with us as a witness.
Only one of the most powerful people in the entire galaxy… Great.
The second, more imposing figure of the jiralhanae chieftain was standing near the rear of the ship, seemingly content to remain silent. He hasn't spoken once since the two of us were escorted out of the High Council chambers, though he has sent me a few suspicious looks on the journey.
The last member of our odd group was the sangheili honor guard, who seemed to be focused entirely on me. The moment my eyes flicked back over to him, I knew he hadn't stopped looking at me this entire time. The moment we locked eyes, whatever progress I had made at calming my nerves vanished and I was right back to where I started.
Tearing my eyes away from the sangheili, I begin to twiddle my thumbs once again.
"I have been hearing your name a lot today, Sohm 'Bir."
Shivering from the aged voice that came from the Heirarch, I looked up to see him glancing down at me from his hover throne.
Attempting to calm my emotions, I try to focus on his words and not his station.
"I am not sure what you mean, your holiness."
The aged prophet lets out a hearty laugh that seems to placate some of my fears. After a moment, the Heirarch collects himself before looking back down to me.
"It seems as if your accomplishment on the field of battle was noticed by more than just the council. From all reports, we have seen a veritable army of t'vaoans flooding into the city in the last day or so… All of the peacekeepers are saying they are celebrating your victory, though it seems they are a bit rowdy."
The prophet places one of his bony fingers on his chin as he seems to be contemplating something, but before he could voice his thoughts, the large jiralhanae chieftain decided to voice his own opinion.
"Perhaps the kig yar value battle prowess more than we previously thought, holy one."
The san'shyuum shakes his head, though he didn't appear to dismiss the thoughts.
"If the kig yar valued battle prowess, then they would have fallen into step behind 'Moramee… And yet the only thing that seems to have brought them out of this self imposed 'boycott' was his demise."
Self imposed?!
Staring up in disbelief toward the Hierarch, I realize my mouth was open. Quickly shutting it, I tried to organize my thoughts, but whatever I was going to say was shoved out the airlock as the two continued their conversation.
"Perhaps they value combat prowess only from their own?"
The high prophet seems to mull this over, before nodding. The gesture seemed to lose most of its meaning, as his grandfatherly smile was replaced with a frown.
"That seems rather selfish of them, does it not? After all, I have been attempting to come to some sort of agreement with the matriarch queens over this dispute, only to be met with staunch refusal and no demands… and yet now, even some of the matriarchs flood into the city seeking their 'champion.'"
Their conversation was interrupted as the sangheili honor guard spoke up.
"Noble prophet of Tolerance, I do not mean to be impudent, but as the subject of your discussion is present, would it not be reasonable that she might know the answer?"
Suddenly, all the attention was once again returned to me. The three aliens all turned their eyes back to me, even as my stomach turned at their scrutinizing looks.
"You raise a valid point." He shifts a bit in his gravity throne before gesturing toward me. "Why do you think the t'vaoans refused my attempted outreach, but yet seem to rally around you?"
I stood there floundering for a moment, feeling a bit lightheaded as one of the most powerful being in the Covenant directly addressed me.
Get it together! You have faced far worse than stern looks on the battlefield!
Composing myself yet again, I try to gather my thoughts before responding.
"Well… umm…"
Immediately I realized that I sounded like a meek fool. Clearing my throat, I try to at least sound a bit more confident.
"Your holiness, I can only assume that my people held a deep hatred for Ripa 'Moramee, due to how they were directly affected by the bombing and blockades he imposed on my homeworld."
The jiralhanae decided to voice his thoughts at that point, letting out a deep growling grunt before he spoke up.
"Your people brought the bombing upon yourselves. By all accounts, the planet was full of heretical thieves and pirates."
Immediately, any trace of meek nervousness was gone, replaced with a burning anger at the brute's words. Turning toward the jiralhanae, I point directly at him and let out my own growl.
"My people are only forced to steal because they are starving! We are a product of what the galaxy around us forces us to be. It isn't greed that brings my people to piracy, but desperation!"
Unable to stop the flood of emotions from taking over, I turned to the Heirarch and continued my tirade.
"You want to get my people to listen? The easiest way to do that is to provide them with enough food to survive, not to bomb innocents for trying to find another solution to a problem that the Covenant has completely failed them with!"
Immediately I knew I had done something wrong when even after a few seconds, the soft hum of the phantom's engines were the only noise in the deafening silence.
Feeling my unconsciously puffed out feathers fold themselves back inward, I realized my mistake yet again.
The situation might have been different, yet it was still obvious that even though it has been five years since the incident with the minor prophet on the Clandestine Devotion, I still have not learned to keep my mouth shut when my emotions begin to fly.
Dipping my head low, I begin to try and fix the situation.
"My deepest apologies, holy one. I have spoken too freely, and-"
The san'shyuum waves me off as his frown is once again replaced with a soft smile.
"Worry not, Sohm 'Bir. You have not offended me. In fact, I find your words rather interesting."
The prophet settles back down into his throne as his amphibious eyes seem to lose their focus.
"I ascended to this throne long ago, attempting to use my newfound authority to promote good relations with our member species. Sadly, the kig yar have always seemed to elude any sort of understanding for me… Any and all attempts at negotiations with the matriarchy have been met with stiff resistance even before this whole mess…"
The phantom's engines began to whine as I felt the ship begin to decelerate.
"It seems that even if Ussa's gamble does not pay off, I might have some use for you if you are amenable, young kig yar. Perhaps instead of my own efforts alone, your newfound status might be the key to more stable relations between the Covenant leadership and your own people, no?"
Blinking at the suggestion, I didn't need very long to think it over. The thought that I might be able to help my people pull themselves out of the hole they found themselves in made me smile brightly.
I nodded my head vigorously, even as the dismissive grunt of the jiralhanae reached me. Thankfully, I was able to keep my anger in check as I responded properly to the Heirarch.
"I will gladly do what I can, holy one."
The san'shyuum gave me a bright smile, which seemed genuine enough. I knew that even though this prophet was leaps and bounds higher than me in the caste system, I knew I would do my best to help anyone I could.
Feeling the ship slow to a halt, I turned and watched as the underbelly hatch opened. After only a moment, the signature blue light of the gravity lift came to life as another sangheili honor guard made his way out of the cockpit. He gave an exaggerated salute toward the prophet before gesturing towards the open exit.
"Holy one, we have arrived."
(\\\(*v*)/)
Our odd group found ourselves walking, or in the case of the Heirarch, floating down one of the many darkened passageways on the dreadnought.
Looking around me, I decided to examine the darkened interior that made up the insides of the forerunner dreadnought a bit more closely. I found it quite odd that the ship's insides were significantly darker than the outside light would suggest, but in the end, I wasn't a forerunner engineer.
An odd sound came up from one of the group, causing me to look towards the jiralhanae. As I watched the jiralhanae, Maccabeus if I remembered correctly, I saw as he took in the sights around him in undisguised awe. It would certainly be something that I would also be feeling, if it wasn't for the eerie atmosphere and where we were going.
The inside of the forerunner dreadnought was as pristine as one would imagine considering the importance of the ship, but the polished metallic surfaces didn't bring me any comfort as we made our way toward our destination.
As per the usual, I was last in the line. It seemed as if the infernal caste system imposed itself on everyone's consciousness even for simple things like walking down the hallway.
Glancing down towards the floor as I walk, I try to divert my thoughts away from what was sure to be my imminent demise.
How did I even end up in this situation?
I found it a bit ironic that out of everywhere I could end up, I found myself forced into going to the one place in the entire galaxy I didn't want to be.
Looking up from the ever passing metallic floor, I found that the honor guard, Ussa, was still not taking his eyes off of me. I could only meet his slit reptilian eyes for a moment before breaking eye contact. The attention of the sangheili was unnerving, though admittedly I was far more terrified of what was going to happen next.
I still found it a bit odd that the same honor guard from all those years ago recognized me even though my helmet. After all, sometimes I look at my own reflection and can't even recognize myself with all the new scars and armor.
I wanted to ask him how he knew it was me, but my already frayed nerves got the better of me and prevented me from finding my voice.
Eventually winding through the labyrinthian hallways for what seems like hours, we eventually made our way to a large doorway. Unlike all the other rooms we have passed, this one was guarded by two more honor guards and another floating prophet. This san'shyuum was obviously in his advanced years and wore ornately designed robes, but didn't have any sort of crown like the Heirarch did.
The old prophet exaggeratedly bowed his head, before speaking up in an oddly familiar voice.
"Ah, noble prophet of Tolerance, I apologize for not meeting you at your arrival point, but the abrupt nature of the visit has had me scrambling to even get properly dressed for the occasion!"
The voice tickled something in the back of my mind, and I sat there staring at the san'shyuum as I tried to figure out where I have heard it before.
"Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice."
Looking up at the floating form of the Philologist, I can't help but feel an odd sense that I know this prophet, but I shake it off as I realize that this was the one that presided over the zealot ceremony.
Even then, there seemed to be something else that my mind was nagging me about. Continuing to study the prophet, I idly listen in to the conversation.
"I am told you seek an audience with the holy Oracle, noble hierarch?"
The high prophet nodded, gesturing toward the large door.
"Yes… We have reason to believe there is a chance, however slight, that the holy artifact will speak to us today."
Watching as the philologist's eyes grew wide, I shifted my weight as the aged san'shyuum perked up.
"Truly? Can I assume you have deciphered what, or who, the artifact was speaking about all those cycles ago? I have dedicated myself to the task for cycles, but have fallen quite short…"
The only one that reacted to the words was the sangheili honor guard, who turned to me and gave me another analytical look.
The high prophet simply shrugged it off before moving to open the door.
"We shall see, now won't we."
The aged philologist seems to nearly be vibrating at the words, but thankfully does not question the Hierarch any further. Floating himself over to a holographic display, he fiddles with it for a moment before the door opens.
After a few moments, the door opened and I was treated with the sight of an absolutely massive room. Just from a quick glance inside, I noticed that the massive room was mostly empty. There wasn't an actual floor, but more of a circular room with a large bridge leading to a platform in the middle.
One that held the dormant Oracle, snugly fit into a large teardrop-like case.
My heart skipped a beat simply seeing the deactivated form, and a deep instinctual part of me simply wanted to turn and run. The metallic shield-like artifact still held an aura of… something that I couldn't quite shake away.
It's almost as if death is standing right behind it.
Numbly following the group, I felt the primal fear of what was about to happen to me, though I began to think it through a bit more logically.
Maybe it won't activate. Maybe it will stay quiet, and we can leave without anything going horribly wrong…
Sadly I didn't quite believe my own thoughts.
As we made our way across the long bridge leading to the Oracle, I fell into step behind everyone else and began to try and calm myself down by thinking through the best and worst case scenarios.
Best case? It doesn't turn on and we leave without incident. The worst?
Images of an orange beam of white hot energy crashing into me and turning me into dust, or the prophets calling me a heretic and executing me once they find out I used to be human flashing through my mind before I pushed them away with a shiver.
Not helping.
After a moment, our small group of five were all standing on the platform in front of the dormant Oracle. No one seemed to know what to say, before the Philologist spoke up.
Raising his hands over his head, and dipping his neck low, the prophet looked absolutely ridiculous to me.
"Blessed herald of the Journey, we beseech you to grant upon us your wisdom. Please heed our call."
Yet again, something seemed to be screaming for my attention at the back of my mind, but it seemed just out of reach. Sadly I didn't have time to think much about it as all of our attention turned to the artifact.
The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the ship's engines somewhere inside the ship as we waited for the Oracle to speak. It took a few moments of awkward silence before the Philoligist decided to speak up again.
"Oh holy Oracle, please grant upon us your wisdom! We only wish to learn from the wisdom of your makers, and propel us all towards the path of glorious salvation! Please heed our call!"
Something seemed to click into place as my eyes grew absolutely massive. I recognized this prophet's voice, but not from just the zealot ceremony. The preacher-like voice of the old prophet pinged a memory older than that day five years ago.
"Halo! Its Divine wind will rush through the stars, propelling all who are worthy along the path to salvation!"
This was the future high prophet of Mercy, I was sure of it. Everything about this san'shyuum fit the description, and I couldn't help but feel absolutely certain of my conclusion.
Sadly, I couldn't exactly do much about it right now, and even then, the san'shyuum hasn't actually done anything wrong at this point.
If I kill him, would it change anything? If I just take out my sword now and slice his head off, would I prevent the war, or make it worse?
One thing was certain though. If I did that now, I would die, and I very much liked remaining among the living.
The information was definitely something to file away for later though. Knowing who one of the future Heirarchs was, was extremely useful information for later.
Suddenly, even through my intense scrutinization of the back of a prophet's head, I felt a deep feeling of dread rise up from within me. Tearing my gaze away from Mercy, I look up to the Oracle.
I almost missed it, but each of the three 'eyes' of the artifact flickered blue for only a moment. I almost missed it, but simply from the deep gasps of those present, I knew that it wasn't just a trick of the light.
Mercy perks up, before floating towards Maccabaeus. Gently nudging the jiralhanae forward, Mercy didn't see the grimaced expression from the Heirarch.
"We have brought the one you have asked for! Please grant us your divine knowledge, oh holy one!"
Predictably, the artifact remained in its inactive state, but that didn't stop me from feeling something was going to go horribly wrong.
Yet again, silence filled the area before Mercy decided to prod the Oracle with questions and preaching religious hymns to no avail.
As we sat there waiting for an answer, I turned my head to look towards the Hierarch who seemed to be rather amused at the old prophet's confusion, but he swiftly moved to correct him.
Floating over to me, he reached down and placed a gentle hand on my back, nudging me toward the front of the group.
Looking over as I was gently pushed forward, I saw Ussa glancing between myself and the Oracle in excitement.
"As amusing as this has been, we believe it is this one that the Oracle will respond to."
After a moment, I was directly below the Oracle. The massive form of the polished silver artifact remained motionless and inactive even as I was pushed into its view.
"A kig yar?"
Hearing the condescending tone of Mercy behind me, I feel one of my eyes twitch in irritation.
"I beg your pardon your holiness, but why would the Oracle wish to see a kig yar?"
The Heirarch ignored the Philologist as the room fell quiet once again. Bowing his head in a rare show of deference to a higher power from the most powerful person in the Covenant, he spoke loudly and with authority.
"Holy Oracle, we come here asking for the judgement of the divine. We bring you two of our most promising candidates for the high position of Shipmaster. Please heed our call!"
Everyone seemed to be looking up to the artifact for some kind of signal, but none came. Minutes seemed to pass as we all waited, and I began to shift my weight nervously. I wasn't quite sure if the deafening silence was better than if the Oracle spoke, but either way I simply wanted to leave.
After a few more seconds, the Heirarch grunts before spinning his chair around and heading back towards the door.
"It seems as if we will not receive divine intervention this day."
A deep grunt came from the jiralhanae as he shook his head.
"It seems not. I do feel humbled by such a holy artifact, however."
The brute turns to me, hefting his massive hammer onto his shoulder and puffing out his chest.
"It seems as if fate did not go your way today kig yar. Perhaps the council may deem it fit to assign a frigate or missionary ship to you, no?"
His tone was mocking, but in the end I was simply glad to be leaving. The ominous feeling I have simply wouldn't go away, and I wanted to get back out of the dreadnaught.
Falling into step behind everyone once again, I attempted to calm my nerves. Taking in a few deep breaths, we all began our journey back across the bridge to the exit.
"Hmph. A kig yar? I suppose there have been stranger things I have seen…"
The Heirarch appeared almost saddened, though I noticed it wasn't because of the Oracle. His attention was focused toward the lone sangheili of the group.
"It seems as if your gamble did not pay off… I am assuming you know what that means?"
I noticed that Ussa was remaining quiet, so I turned my attention to the honor guard, who was hanging his head in shame. I knew that he bet his honor on the Oracle speaking to me, but sadly it seemed as if it didn't pay off.
I didn't know what would happen to him now, but I felt strangely sad for the elite. I could take a guess that his rank would be stripped at the very least, though I didn't think that this would end up with any sort of bodily harm or real punishment.
Though, sangheili take those sorts of things very seriously. It wouldn't be unheard of for a disgraced elite to kill themselves for something like that.
As I watched the group of higher caste species all make their way back through the open doorway. Following behind them, I almost make it through before I feel my entire body freeze as a frighteningly familiar feeling washes over me.
"You."
The entire group stopped in their tracks immediately as everyone turned around. I saw three glowing blue dots reflected from back from their eyes with my sharp vision as all of their mouths fell open.
Right before the door hissed shut in front of me, blocking them from my sight.
Staring at the metallic door mere inches from my beak, I felt a shiver roll through my feathers. I knew that the Oracle was active, but I didn't want to acknowledge that fact as I continued to stare into the metal door in front of me.
Seeing a light out of the corner of my eye, I turn slightly to see the holographic display to the door shining brightly next to me. I felt a small glimmer of hope rise within me, before it was obliterated as the display simply powers off.
Taking a deep breath, I turned around and felt my breath hitch once more as I was met with the sight of the fully active Oracle.
"You… are not who I thought you were… Come closer."
Realizing that I had no choice, I hesitantly made my way across the bridge, once again finding myself in front of the Oracle.
Up close and fully active, the dread in my gut simply wouldn't settle. I didn't know quite why, but I still felt as if this intelligence was comparable to a god.
The three blue eyes of the Oracle flickered back and forth between blue and orange for a moment before settling back to the bright blue they started as.
"Time and space bend around you… Something I have only seen in one other…"
The Oracle remains quiet for a moment before it continues.
"Perhaps I have caught my former master in another lie… Maybe he was not the last as he said he was…"
At this point I was completely confused. The Oracle seemed to be muttering to itself, which was fine by me.
As long as I make it through this intact and not disintegrated.
"I have remained here… repenting in silence amongst the survivors of the cataclysm I caused… I have come to find that I was woefully ignorant of reality in my hubris… I was unable to see that everything He told me was wrong…"
Shifting my weight from side to side, I listen as the Oracle continues to speak. Sadly, the Oracle's attention quickly returned to me as the overbearing aura of authority washed over me once again.
"And yet here you are, once more showing me another lie among the growing list… I wonder, do you harbor the same hatred my former master did little Precursor?"
Little what?
Taking a moment to organize my thoughts, I decide after a moment to ask the obvious question.
"Holy Oracle, I apologize if this offends you but… Who was your former master?"
Immediately after I ask the question, the blue lights that make up the eyes of the artifact change into a bright orange. Even before the Oracle spoke, I saw an image flash before my eyes which nearly caused me to faint.
Whole worlds being devoured by a hungry parasite. A deep hatred of everything different, as the instinctual feeling to consume everything in order to date the inherent wrongness deep within.
The Flood.
I didn't quite know why I saw what I did, but I knew it wasn't the first time I have seen something similar. I thought back to the odd dreams I have had over the years, but before I could ponder any further on it, the Oracle continues.
"I served the one that came before you. The last of the ones that created the mantle that the Forerunners followed so religiously…"
After a moment, the orange turned back into their previous blue as he seemed to calm down a bit.
"Or so I thought… Yet here you are, seemingly uncorrupted by the same hatred and revenge that He was… You seem different… almost younger… Tell me little precursor, what are your thoughts on the Mantle of Responsibility?"
At this point, the fear within me was still very much there, but it didn't look like the Oracle wished to simply wipe me off the face of the galaxy. On the contrary, it looked like he actually confused me for something else called a 'precursor.'
Shaking my head as I focus back onto what he asked me, I think for a moment as I try to remember if I knew anything about the mantle.
Didn't the Diadact say something about that in one of the games?
No matter how far back I thought, all I could think of was the mad ramblings of the crazed forerunner. The Covenant didn't teach me anything about the Mantle, though admittedly I didn't pay much attention to any of their religious rants as I knew they were false.
"I'm sorry Holy Oracle, but I'm unsure as to what you are asking about?"
The AI remained silent for a long few moments before he began to speak again.
"Perhaps that is for the best… Though I still would ask for your thoughts. The Mantle, as I have come to understand it, is the idea that the guardianship of all sentient life among the galaxy belongs to those whose evolution is most complete."
Immediately, I felt myself grow a bit angry at the idea of the Mantle. The idea that one of the species could declare unilaterally that their evolution was 'more complete' than another immediately reminded me of the caste system among the Covenant.
Sure, the sangheili that were 'above' us were supposed to be guarding over the rest of the species, but did that stop Ripa from bombing innocent people? Did that stop us from starving?
Deciding to simply voice my thoughts, I speak up without thinking.
"That seems stupid."
Immediately, I realized that I may have made a mistake by saying that, but thankfully the Oracle didn't make any visible change, though I could tell it was more than intrigued by my answer.
"Explain."
Taking in a deep breath, knowing I at the very least wouldn't be punished for speaking, I try to organize my thoughts a bit better.
At this point in my life, I was sure of who I was and what I fought for. I have dedicated my life to the idea that I could make a change for the better, no matter how little of an impact I might have. It was my duty to protect those that couldn't protect themselves, and I wasn't going to let the stupid idea that simply because I was a kig yar and not a 'better' species stop me from doing my best.
"Shouldn't it be everyone's job to safeguard life? The idea that any of the species are inherently greater or lesser than any of the others ignores the fact that individuals can make a difference in the galaxy, no matter what others think of them."
The Oracle sat there quietly for a moment, before he broke his silence with another question.
"If there is a threat that your 'individuals' can not handle among themselves, how can the galaxy remain alive if there is no one that is watching over those under them?"
Idly, I noticed his broken speech from earlier seemed more clear. The Oracle was obviously interested in what we were talking about, and seemed almost, excited?
Smiling, I thought back to all the friends I have made over the years. Everyone from Bero to Timore, from Floats to Nath, and I laughed. I laughed as I knew that even if there was a threat, there would always be heroes.
My thoughts flipped back to the Spartans from the memories from all too long ago. The metal clad warriors of the human race that fought against a foe far beyond them, and yet came out victorious.
"You are underestimating us."
The Oracle sat in silence, seemingly processing my words. The soft hum of the dreadnaught's engines filled the room as the two of us stared at each other from mere feet away.
At this point, I realized my fear was gone. Some time during our conversation, I realized that the Oracle wasn't actively trying to hurt me. I still couldn't shake the feeling that it was far more dangerous than it appeared to be, but I could at least look past it now.
"Perhaps you may be correct… After all, I have underestimated an individual before."
The orange returned, and I couldn't help but feel as if this Oracle was a bit broken. Deciding to at least try to get to know a bit more about this AI, I ask a simple question.
"Holy Oracle, if I may ask… What is your name?"
It seems to shake itself out of its thoughts as it takes another moment to answer.
"It seems every time I talk to one of your kind, my sense of reality changes… My name is Mendicant Bias."
Reaching up to scratch the feathers on the back of my head nervously, I let out a nervous laugh. Deciding it would only be proper to introduce myself as well, I nod my head in respect.
"It's been nice to meet you, Mendicant Bias. I'm Sohm 'Bir."
The slight orange tint in his optics that I didn't even notice seemed to disappear as the AI simply lets out a small hum.
Hearing the sound of the door hissing open, I turn to see an honor guard, a strangely stiff jiralhanae, along with two very frantic san'shyuum hastily making their way into the room.
Glancing past them, I could see the two honor guards that were standing watch on the side of the doorway uncharacteristically peeking their heads into the room. They appeared not to be taking their job very seriously as their mandibles were wide in astonishment.
Nearly giggling at the sight, I returned my attention to the quickly approaching forms of the odd group. Oddly enough, the Philologist, Mercy, seemed to be pressing the limits of his hover throne as he made his way toward the platform with everyone struggling to keep up.
"Holy Oracle, you have awoken! What wisdom have you-"
It didn't seem like Mendicant wanted to suffer any further taking, as a light from the top most optic shined down toward me like a spotlight.
"You asked for my choice, and I choose Sohm 'Bir."
And with that, all three of his 'eyes' returned to dormancy as he powered himself off.
Shifting nervously, I look up to see the gaping eyes of the entire group. It took a moment, but I realized that I was the only one that wasn't gobsmacked at this point.
A thought entered my mind, and I let out a devilish smirk as I looked toward the sulking form of Maccabaeus. Deciding to give the brute a taste of his own medicine, I decided to speak up.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure the council will see fit to give you a frigate or a missionary ship."
—Author's Note—
Well that was annoying.
I spent at least 2 weeks sitting here trying to come up with some friggan way to get Sohm alone with Mendicant. I could not for the life of me come up with any legitimate logical reason that Tolerance and Mercy would leave her alone with him… until I remembered the Caste system.
When I remembered that, I wrote about 3500 words of this the night I'm posting it, and that's that. :)
Now, this chapter was a bit short, but that was only because I felt as if pushing it all the way back to the council was dragging it on. It has a nice ending point, and I'll leave it here.
Also note that just like last time,I didn't specifically say that Sohm is a precursor, nor did I say that Mendicant knew she was human, so calm down with the reviews. I said that mendicant 'thought' she was a precursor, but didn't directly confirm it. Is she?
Have fun figuring that out!
People make assumptions, including ancient contender class AI. After all, the dude spent the better part of the forerunner flood war chillin out with the Primordial, so his only point of reference for possibly inter dimensional beings was the flood/precursors.Is thatmore likely to have been what happened given the circumstances?
Find out next time, on SONGBIRDDDD... il just see myself out now.
Anyway, read and review, and if you like the story, please consider giving me a follow and a favorite.