It is the Time of Light, 2nd Lunar Cycle, 15th Day: 1,279th Year of Awakening
(Lylatian Standard Calendar Equivalent: 8/15/2422)
Chapter III-
Randorn Nubis was everywhere, yet nowhere. It was impossible to say exactly where he was in the strange never-never land of Cerinia's warp network. Though it was said that everyone experienced a warp transit differently, Randorn himself could not fathom any variations on the experience. He couldn't see or hear, but he felt a dizzying sense of velocity.
He knew he had arrived when he started to see flashes of light. The young Gatekeeper of Starmerge began to feel the invisible whirlwind of energy around his body. His eyes were closed as the warp panel began to put him back together, one molecule at a time. Randorn had once opened his eyes during a warp transit to find that his fingers and toes were still appearing from thin air. The sight had so terrified him that he since never opened his eyes until he knew that the warp was complete.
Randorn waited for the familiar nausea which told him that he had made it through. Cautiously he opened his eyes and scanned his body in the dim light of the glowing warp panel. Never much of an enthusiast for going through warp transits, Randorn always checked to make sure he had not 'lost' anything. Yes, he knew that it was Krazoa technology; perfect both in form and function as he had been taught. But there was something disturbing about being broken down and then reassembled by technology whose age went back millennia.
The warp sickness in Randorn's stomach was suddenly overcome by a very different sort of nausea. The circular alcove he now found himself in was an island of light in the pitch black of the room. The Warp Chamber was below ground and Randorn felt like an insect beneath the towering ceiling, whose elegant, carved transparent panels were only just visible above him. The ancient stone walls, as smooth and flawless as glass, reflected the warp panel and seemed to glow themselves.
The purpose of Randorn's return to Starmerge – the reports of attacks in this very shrine – very suddenly left his mind. As far as he could see, there was no sign that anyone had been here. But Randorn didn't have any other reason to believe this. In fact, the assailants reported by spirit Urel could very well still be here somewhere. Fearing that his arrival might have been noticed by such a hostile presence, he brought out his staff and extended it to combat length. The darkness might as well have been total as the Warp Panel, its duty complete, began to power down. It now put out a fraction of the light it had before and the blackness continued its assault on the room, robbing Randorn of what sight he had. While this did not frighten him, Randorn knew that doing anything would be next to impossible now.
But just then as the Warp Panel dimmed, there was a brief glint in the darkness as something reflected the last of the light. Curious and cautious all at once, Randorn walked briskly towards the source. It had lasted only a moment, but he did his best to remember where it had been. His foot hit something solid and Randorn could hear as the object skidded forward across the stone floor. After a futile search in the dark for any sign of movement, he knelt on his right knee and felt the area ahead of him with his free left hand. His fingers brushed something metallic.
He was about to grasp the object when he heard the clatter of metal hitting the floor. A brief pop of light sparked near the end of the chamber. When the darkness returned, a quiet voice emerged and muttered something. Randorn could then here the sound of light footsteps.
Randorn wasn't sure who or what had made the noise. But, in true accordance with one of the Teachings of Combat, he chose to investigate the disturbance himself rather then let whatever had caused it find him. The words of the Teaching, hewn to his mind, now repeated:
Always enter an unfamiliar area as if your enemy might be watching your every move…
He crept forward with great care.
Suddenly, three lights snapped on from the floor. Caught off guard, Randorn quickly decided to act. In the new, low light he glimpsed the figure, a blur of red, grey, and blue, and made his move, bringing his staff up and aiming to bring its front to the figure's neck. The enemy, whoever he was, at first recoiled and fell back. But as Randorn made the attack, the individual somehow managed to grab his staff and pull him sideways.
Randorn countered by pulling the staff, and the defending fellow, towards him. He planned next to spin and therefore force the sharp, crystalline end piece into the assailant's stomach. This, he hoped, would throw the enemy off balance long enough for Randorn to bring him down.
But before he could put this plan in motion, Randorn felt a pair of hands fall on his shoulders from behind. These then gripped him tightly. Now it was he was being pulled – backwards. The abrupt change of motion forced the staff from his hands. The first assailant, who held fast to Randorn's staff, now sailed across the room until he hit the far wall. Still being pulled backwards, Randorn felt the new attacker suddenly sidestep and then push him violently. The Gatekeeper fell to the floor, winding him and slamming the back of his head into the hard stone at the base of the panel. The second figure was above him, moving too fast for Randorn to follow his movements, but the Gatekeeper did recognize the telltale glow of an energy blade.
He cursed himself for acting so rash, having assumed that the element of surprise would give him the advantage. But Randorn had never made provisions for a second threat. Now he found himself on his back on the cold stone floor, pain throbbing through his head, unarmed, and completely at the whim of the energy blade-wielding figure standing above him.
The armed assailant firmly pressed his foot into Randorn's chest as he tried to rise. The energy blade, aglow in the dark alcove, slowly descended towards him. It stopped dangerously close to his nose. The blade crackled and sparked as the figure skillfully maneuvered it to Randorn's neck.
But just then, the other figure -the one whom Randorn had first attacked- rushed forward. Randorn watched his silhouette stop next to the swordsman in the shadows. He exclaimed: "Master! Stop! It's the Gatekeeper! It's the Gatekeeper!"
The voice was young, desperate, but most importantly, it was Cerinian.
Another voice joined in, this one older and rough with a sound akin to a low growl. "You're certain?" it said, "I can't see anything in this room."
"Yes! Yes!" pleaded Randorn. He did his best to avoid sounding desperate, a difficult thing considering his position. "I am Randorn of Starmerge, Gatekeeper of this city."
The figure standing over him side stepped back with obvious hesitation and deactivated his energy blade. As Randorn got back on his feet, he faintly heard what he took as a quiet snarl from this shadow now standing in front of him.
The younger voice called out to some unseen characters, apparently in the next room over. Moments later concealed lights snapped on and the three players in this clumsy contest could finally see each other. They all stood in silence for a few moments, as if sizing each other up. In the wake of the brief scuffle, neither party was ready or willing to take any chances, in spite of the fact that all of them were of the same camp and were all here for the same purpose.
At last Randorn knew the loyalties of the two figures. In the dim glow of the warp panel and the small emergency lights scattered about the floor, Randorn could see that they were Sentinels, the eyes and ears of the Krazoa Order. Their clothes, crisp and formal like military dress uniforms, screamed authority, control, and order.
Randorn realized that he should have expected to find this brand of Avatar at the scene first. The strange deaths of two Avatars were certainly an event of such grave importance to call for Sentinels. In matters such as this, the Order always preferred that such personalities perform the necessary investigations rather than Cerinia's own police.
Their gaze was almost frightening to Randorn. Not so much in their appearance, but rather what he knew the expression meant. He knew how Sentinels functioned, how they scoped out potential threats… They knew how to skillfully break through the mind's defenses. Randorn imagined that this is what both of the Sentinels were doing right now. The tense atmosphere of the scene following the skirmish was more than enough of a reason to give Randorn this treatment. The Gatekeeper now knew why the Lylatians subjected to this mental barrage called Sentinels "The Thieves of Thought".
The younger Sentinel, the unintentional target of Randorn's earlier attack, was standing near the ramp leading up into the Passage of Virtue. His green gauntlets and the intensity with which they shined in the dim light betrayed him as a young, recently commenced Avatar. He was fighting a losing battle to calm his accelerated breath, either from the terrible fright Randorn had given him or it was a part of his focus technique. Randorn could see that this younger Sentinel was holding a small plasma torch in his right hand, which he seemed more then ready to use it as a weapon.
But it was the older Sentinel brandishing a pair of jade ornaments who presented the more intimidating image. His jade-stone encrusted gauntlets denoted him as a High Avatar, a full step above Randorn in rank. That might have explained the way he gazed at Randorn, the same way he had exchanged glares at the young Sentinel.
"So, the Seven have finally sent us a Gatekeeper," he finally said. His voice was neither cold nor friendly but almost somewhere in between, as if the Sentinel had not decided to treat Randorn as friend or foe. His stern, official tone was far from uncertain though.
He looked Randorn over once more, "Albeit, one so young in age."
Would you prefer they send another city's Gatekeeper? Randorn briefly thought of firing back. But the last thing he wanted was another scuffle.
"The noble Gatekeeper may collect his staff, if he pleases," the Sentinel continued. Randorn's stomach sank when he remembered that he had been disarmed. Keeping as firm a face as he could, he turned to retrieve his holy weapon. He cursed himself for having lost the weapon – the great Staff of Starmerge – so easily. As he picked the staff up Randorn could almost feel the mocking expression of the old Sentinel's face.
"Don't worry Gatekeeper," the Sentinel said when Randorn did not retract the staff, "we have already secured the scene. The Force Point temple sent us six Honor Guards as sentries. Nobody will be getting in or out without our-," he paused, "and your expressed permission, of course."
Randorn nodded gently. Though he still felt uneasy about his surroundings, he elected to show that he trusted the Sentinels. He retracted his staff to carrying length and returned it to his back. He knew he had to bring the tension down. Perhaps an apology - a peace offering of sorts - would work?
"A thousand apologies," Randorn offered.
The old Sentinel starred at Randorn for a few moments. While Randorn's face was one of apology, his was remained severe and stern. His dark eyes seemed to scorch everything before him and Randorn felt as though they were going right through him. The young Gatekeeper began to feel uneasy and he fought the urge to bring his staff back to combat stance -.
He stopped. Once again he had let his thoughts get away. Randorn feared that the Sentinel was now looking into these escaping emotions and anxieties. It was not a pleasant feeling for him knowing that every loose end in his mind was now fair game. Randorn's weak grasp on who could see his own thoughts was a crippling weakness for him and one that had already gotten him into trouble in the past. More recently, the High Council and the other Gatekeepers had discovered this enervation, giving the higher-ups just one more reason to distrust him.
Randorn feared that the Sentinel had already found his vulnerability. There was no telling what the stone-faced individual was 'seeing' now.
"It's understandable," the elder Sentinel finally replied. His response came as something of a surprise to Randorn. Had the Sentinel actually accepted his apology? The tone of his voice was almost kind.
"This has already been a night of terrible surprises," the Sentinel continued, his face showing his remorse. He looked at something lying off to the side which Randorn had not at all noticed. It was a white shroud emblazoned with gold and black Cerinian characters. The cloth spoke with these: "Travel the path of your ancestors – The Journey now continues." There was a dead Cerinian beneath the shroud.
The older Sentinel performed a shallow bow to acknowledge Randorn's presence, drawing his focus away from the body. "I am Aldari Fandon," he spoke with an official voice, precise and quick, "and this is my Apprentice Deris Nuso," he indicated the younger Sentinel, who still had yet to fully regain his composure.
"But in all honesty Gatekeeper," his tone became serious again, "Did you not see Deris? I sent him out here to greet you after he fixed the warp panel."
Randorn's blood ran cold. His fear of the device was suddenly and violently rekindled. They tampered with the warp panel?! And I actually came through…
"And if I may say so Gatekeeper, it is good to see you in one piece," Aldari continued with a very weak smile, the first hint of real personality Randorn had seen of the old vulpine.
Aldari glanced at Deris, whose right hand still clutched the plasma cutting torch, "It's also somewhat comforting to see that even an Apprentice who fears his own shadow can still repair a warp panel." Deris shot back a discontented look at Aldari.
"Repair?" asked Randorn, who had finally found his voice, though it was tight with anxiety. His mind had been racing, thinking up what might have come from the hasty repairs of the young Sentinel. What damage might have been done to him? "Why in Ceris's name did it need to be repaired?"
Deris stepped forward nervously and extended his left hand. In it was a flat, charred, unrecognizable fragment about the size of a dinner plate. Aside from being blackened and crumbling, Randorn could also see narrow incisions. These cuts were glossy black and were lined with twin parallel rows of hardened melted matter.
"This is… or was the primary molecular constructor in the warp panel," the young Apprentice explained, "As you can see Gatekeeper, it is not in workable condition. Someone went to great lengths to disable the warp panel before we arrived.
"These marks," Deris traced the deep slices with his finger, "They were clearly made by an energy blade -."
"A Cerinian energy blade Deris," added Aldari, "An arc blade to be precise."
Randorn starred at the broken and burned constructor for several seconds. "Can you be sure of that?" His voice was skeptical.
"Absolutely," Deris replied confidently, "Look at how the cut is deepest here," he indicated the center of one of the incisions, "and how there is only minor damage near either end. I would guess that our saboteur simply thrust the weapon straight into the constructor and followed up with a series of slashing attacks. That would explain the burn marks near the -."
The elder Sentinel chose to butt in now with a firm expression. "If you're just about finished with your technical recital, Novice," said Aldari irritably while Deris made a little face of annoyance. "There are much more grave things at hand then who or what disabled the warp panel. We have much to do."
He turned to Randorn and looked at him as if he expected the Gatekeeper to speak. But Randorn seemed sickly, apparently quite upset about the hasty repairs to the warp panel.
"But you did not see Deris?" asked Aldari, who had not forgotten his inquiry, "Or the body?" he indicated the pallid corpse with a movement of his arm. Deris pulled back \ the immaculately white sheet down to the shoulders.
Now for the first time Randorn was able to see the body with any detail. He knew instantly that it had once been Fera Trebus. Externally, Randorn kept a firm face. Within however, his mind was very nearly overcome with emotion. So powerful was his grief that he was unable to restrain his thoughts; a vital Avatar act of discipline. If one's emotions became strong enough, any other Avatar could easily sense his true feelings. Avatar's often called this Nakana Methos – literally clumsy mind. The effect was often related to a vessel that contained too much water; in effect a spillover of thought. Randorn tried to control his thoughts; keep them from becoming known. But the sight of Fera's body was too overpowering.
She lay on her left side. In her right hand Fera still clutched her arc blade; though the weapon's fail-safes had turned the energy blade off when she had hit the ground. Her free left hand was clutching her right side, just below her ribs, vainly trying to conceal a fatal wound. The vixen's eyes were closed and her face was frozen with only the slightest hint of the agony of her final moments. This, and the large open wound in her side, told Randorn that she had died slowly.
Randorn suddenly found himself almost searching for a means of escape. He no longer wanted to be here in this shrine. It felt alien now. He didn't want to see Fera anymore, not like this…
"Perhaps… I should begin to brief you Gatekeeper," Aldari finally said, "as the Council has requested. The Healers have completed their evaluations of the bodies. You must have something to take back with you to Ascension."
Randorn was brought back to the situation at hand. Moving on suddenly sounded like the best idea he'd ever heard. He nodded: "Yes, please proceed."
"To begin, it brings me great grief to say that Fera Trebus was not alone. Aldari sighed looked around with a forlorn look as the shroud covered the vixen's face. "A great amount of life has been extinguished tonight Gatekeeper," he said, "All together, we have six bodies on this sight, a seventh at the residence of the Trebus family, and a survivor we found in the street. He's in the hospital's care now."
"Eight?!" Randorn said, not even attempting to mask his surprise at Aldari's report, "The Council informed me of only two missing, Kailan and Fera Trebus. No victims." A cold chill came over Randorn, "What about her husband, Kailan?"
"Astous Morya."
'Ascended Reality'. Randorn could not believe it. He tried in vain to negate the image of the Core Energies of first Fera and now Kailan, freed from their bodies and their empirical duties, collecting to join the likes of Krazoa spirits. Randorn had suspected it, but he hadn't imagined how difficult facing the reality would be. He now had a murder investigation on his hands.
Randorn had scarcely a moment to let the facts sink in when Aldari spoke to him. There was a quizzical look on the Sentinel's face. "How did you know the names of two of the victims?" he asked.
The word 'victim' sent another paralyzing spike up Randorn's spine. There was a terrible shock of having such a term applied to two of his lifelong friends.
"I'm afraid there is a further development," Randorn explained, "An infant female kit was sent through this very warp panel to Krazoa Palace in Ascension. Her name is Krysalla Trebus…"
Randorn didn't want to say the next words – it just hurt too much. "She is the daughter of Kailan and Fera," his voice betraying his inner pain, "When she was discovered on the warp panel in Ascension and the message of two missing Avatars in this shrine came in… I…I feared…"
Deris produced a small metallic tablet, called a Reader, whose screen added a small glow to the strange light scheme. He began to scrawl something with a stylus, presumably what Randorn had just said.
Randorn composed himself, knowing what must come next. "Can you tell me what you know?"
In turn, Aldari produced his own Reader on which was a typed memorandum. Apparently a full record of the investigation had already been compiled even if it was not even a day old. Randorn thought of rolling his eyes. The machine that was the Krazoa Order never missed a beat. In his precise, emotionless voice Aldari began to read. Apparently the news of Krysalla had had no bearing on him.
"Notification of an intrusion into South Starmerge Krazoa Shrine was received by a burst Thought Stream message from Krazoa Spirit Urel by the night watch Sentinel at Starmerge Force Point Temple at three hours past midnight this morning. Sentinel Deris and I were deployed here to make a preliminary investigation of the shrine and we arrived approximately one hour ago. When we discovered the bodies, a team of four Healers were designated to the scene. They proceeded with their medical examination while Sentinel Deris attended to the warp panel."
Randorn now entered. "You say you arrived here an hour ago? When did Kai-," he paused. Using the names of the deceased was not appropriate, despite Randorn's connection to them. Plus, Randorn believed their loss would be somewhat easier to bear for the moment if he refrained from mentioning their names.
"When did the two Avatars die?" he finally said.
"The Healers concluded…" Aldari scanned his Reader's screen, "A preliminary time of death- both around thirty minutes past eleven."
"That's four hours ago!" Randorn's voice suddenly rose to a dull roar, but still only hinting at his new found distress and anger, "Why did it take you- or anyone- four hours to get here?"
Aldari's eyes drifted away from the Reader, again burning a withering glare, though he appeared much more piqued.
"Urel's message was not received for unknown reasons," his voice was firm, yet calm, even if his assertive tone hinted at a deeper anger, "If the Gatekeeper so desires, he can ask the spirit himself. He claims his Thought Stream was jammed."
Though Aldari's explanation had some sense to it, Randorn still fumed. If only someone had known, Kailan and Fera might still be alive…
But he was getting ahead of himself. His friends were dead, and no 'what-ifs' were going to change that. What he needed to focus on now was bringing Kailan and Fera's murder- or murderers- to justice.
"Forgive me," he said, trying to calm himself down. Randorn had already been pulled from Ascension in the middle of the night. The last thing he wanted to deal with was an angry old Sentinel. Aldari however did not appear ready or willing to bring himself back down.
"How many people do we have here?" Randorn asked, "Did the temple only send you two in?" No sooner had Randorn closed his lips did he realize how Aldari might interpret that. Sure enough, the Sentinel took it the wrong way.
"Do you forget that this is Starmerge? There are plenty more tasks the other Sentinels must perform," replied Aldari, sounding like the Gatekeeper was criticizing both his brethren and himself, "Many of our number are in Ascension to present to the Gatekeepers at the Summer Forum. And no, we are certainly not alone now. We have acquired six Honor Guards from the Force Point Temple for security and two more teams of Sentinels are on their way as we speak."
It was then that Randorn suddenly noticed that the spirit himself was nowhere to be seen. "Where is Urel?" he asked.
"He's been relocated to the Sendar River Shrine", Aldari quickly answered, "The Council was anxious to make sure he was in a more secure location. He was here when Deris and I arrived but he had been transferred through one of the Temple Guards."
"Did you talk to him at all? Ask him what he saw?"
"We did not have enough time for a proper questioning and I imagine it will be some time before the Honor Guards will let anyone near the shrine," replied Aldari.
Randorn let out a quiet, angry sigh. The only witness to what had happened was now clear across the city. As immature as Urel was, he was more then likely a better source of information then the two Sentinels. He would have to make do with what he had now.
"Why did you say Urel's message was not initially received?" Randorn asked.
"Jamming," Aldari responded through loosely clenched teeth. He was clearly losing patience after Randorn's misread words.
"Jamming?" The word sounded odd to him as he repeated it. Randorn seldom heard the word outside of military circles. He let the word roll around in his head and realized that Urel's message could only be intentionally disrupted by some form of interruption in his Thought Stream. No Avatar technique or piece of technology could do something like that.
"Yes, the Gatekeeper heard me right," said Aldari. His tone gave Randorn the impression that the Sentinel had some more offending comment that he wanted to add but had refrained from using. "That was the word Urel himself used."
Randorn waited for something, perhaps an explanation from either Sentinel. Being the undisputed masters of the Thought Stream, Randorn almost expected a briefing, a theory, an idea, anything from the Sentinels. When no such thing came, he tried to contemplate the idea of Thought Stream 'jamming' himself. The Thought Stream was a very strong force and the only real way of stopping its 'flow' was to stop the source. There was simply no way of doing such a thing with a Krazoa spirit.
But he was getting nowhere with his ideas and Randorn knew that he needed to get back on track. He thought back to what Aldari had said in his initial report, when Urel's message had finally come through; "…received by a burst message three hours ago." And even then it took an hour for the Sentinels to arrive…
"Four hours…" he murmured to himself.
"What was that Gatekeeper?" asked Aldari.
"There was three hours where the jamming was effective and another hour before the first arrival on the scene. If Kailan and Fera died four hours before anyone knew they were even here, it means that – for whatever reason – the source of the jamming remained at the shrine even after the Avatars were dead. Do we know anything that happened after the two Avatars were murdered?"
Aldari put on a strange face. It told Randorn what he was going to say before he even moved his lips.
"I cannot tell you with any accuracy what transpired after the murders Gatekeeper."
"What? I know for a fact that there are many surveillance systems everywhere in the shrine. The Council uses them to monitor Candidates when they come for their final tests. If I recall, the standard equipment is a TSV system, the Psi-Cams? The ones that use Thought Stream technology. Didn't they pick up anything?"
Deris was the one who answered. He shook his head and a genuinely baffled expression came over his features. "They were all disrupted during the estimated time of the murders and the three hours where Urel's communications were disrupted. The controls for the TSV system show a power spike at about twenty six minutes past eleven and then nothing until twelve past two, which is when we received Urel's message. Ultimately, what that means is that the murders were the ones behind the jamming."
"But what it really means is that we have little solid idea of what went on here after the TSV went down," Aldari added, "But we can show you what must have happened before Kailan and Fera were slain," he motioned with his hand, "Come, follow me."
Randorn was led by Aldari and Deris up the staircase at the far end of the room. This took them out of the Warp Entry Room and into the Passage of Virtue, the original path to the Central Chamber and the Krazoa Spirit. Viewed from above, the passage was in the rough shape of the letter U and was made up of three separate rooms.
In these, a film-like energy barrier covered the deep pits and narrow walkways originally built to test any and all who came to retrieve a Krazoa. The barrier went from wall to wall and was as solid as steel. It made traversing the otherwise difficult and dangerous passage easier. It had been deployed by the Sentinels after the bodies were discovered.
Aldari and Deris stopped near the entrance to the Central Chamber in the third room of the passage. Randorn could now see that there were four sheet covered bodies here, two to his left and two to his right. These bodies, unlike Kailan and Fera, had already been inspected and their positions recorded. They had been gathered here because the Central Chamber was still being searched and the passage was significantly cooler than the rest of the shrine. The Passage of Virtue had become a temporary morgue.
Deris directed Randorn's attention to the pair on his left. On these bodies the top third of the sheets had been pulled back so that the faces of the deceased could be seen.
The faces of the two on the left were Cerinian. Urel's eerie glow seemed to turn their blue and white fur into strange new colors. Through this and the dim illumination offered by the lights buried in the glass ceiling, Randorn could clearly make out the light blue robes and chrome armor of the Krazoa Honor Guard.
"Honor Guards?" Randorn was hardly able to keep his shock and horror in check when he spoke. His mind raced – how could Honor Guards be dead? His thoughts were not at all unusual. All Cerinians knew of the Krazoa Honor Guard, the most elite warriors of Cerinia; champions and guardians of the Krazoa Order. Honor Guards were Avatars highly skilled in all forms of combat, with every weapon ever forged. They were legendary for their skill in using their Core Energy as a weapon. Even to Randorn, a Gatekeeper, they seemed invincible. How even one, much less two, of these magnificent combatants could be felled was nearly inconceivable to him.
"Our Healers confirmed that the Honor Guards died some time before your two Avatars. They were found in the chasm, right below where you're standing actually." Aldari's voice now echoed in the ancient walls.
Randorn looked at his feet, hovering in space above the pit. He tried to not imagine the bodies of the Honor Guards hastily thrown with such disgrace by their assailants.
"You mean they were slain before the Avatars?" Randorn asked.
"That's correct. At least one hour prior to the deaths of Kailan and Fera," answered Deris.
"Who killed them then? And did anyone not see the fight, or who the murderers were?"
"You forget that spirit Urel disappeared from the shrine, Gatekeeper," replied Aldari, "That's why Kailan was here; he was the Avatar assigned to recover Urel when he was found at North Point Shrine."
Randorn nodded. He had forgotten about Urel's disappearance as he'd gone missing the day he had left for the Summer Forum in Ascension. He had never heard that Kailan had been sent to bring him back to Starmerge. "What about the Honor Guards themselves?" he asked.
"They arrived for their ceremonial guard duty on time, which was at ten. Their relief guards would not have been here until two in the morning, which, again, is when we received Urel's message. They never reported any unusual activity prior to their…demise," said Aldari with certain grimness.
"So then, we have no idea who killed the Honor Guards or the Avatars?"
"Not true at all Gatekeeper," said Deris. His voice contained a certain pleasure in having the answer prepared. "For that, we turn to these two." The young Sentinel moved with purpose to the two sheeted bodies on the right. He pulled back the top third of the sheets, revealing a pair of fittingly alien faces. Both were Lupines, wolves, a Lylatian species rarely ever seen on Cerinia. In fact, when Randorn thought about it, one hardly ever saw any Lylatians outside of red-furred Vulpines.
From what Randorn could see, both of the wolves were dressed in dark hooded robes. Both of the wolves' hoods had been pulled back to reveal their frozen faces with their cold, dead eyes. There was nothing on their faces or necks that told of their demise. But it wasn't the Lylatian faces that grabbed Randorn's interest.
"What's that insignia on his chest?" the Gatekeeper pointed at a strange crimson sign on the wolf's body.
"Is this what you see?" said Aldari, revealing a swath of black cloth with the crimson symbol emblazoned on it.
"Where did you get that?"
"We removed it from the wounded Lylatian before they took him to the hospital," he answered matter-of-factly; "I thought we would need it for later."
"The wounded Lylatian?"
"Yes. The seventh body. Did you forget that I said there were eight victims?"
"No. No I didn't. Where is the eighth?"
"Dead at the Trebus family household."
Randorn's voice was very suddenly filled with a certain emotion. "What?!"
"He's just like this group; black robes and this badge", answered Deris, "We have a team of Healers and Sentinels team there as well. They reported that he died at least one half hour before the two Avatars."
"But what in Astous is he doing at the home of two of the victims? And why is he dead?"
Aldari responded with a face as hard as stone, which Randorn took to be an expression of stoic frustration. "That we do not know."
He continued to talk, responding to a question that Randorn had been thinking but had not spoken. "I know you're frustrated with my Apprentice and I Gatekeeper. But I can guarantee that the Lylat Intelligence Office will be just as frustrated with us."
"LIO? They already know about this?"
"Yes, unfortunately," replied Aldari, this time directing his passing anger at the Lylat Intelligence Office.
Randorn was not surprised. In fact, he did not even bother to ask how LIO had already found out about the murders. Those damned Shadows always knew, somehow…
Randorn himself knew that since Cerinia had made first contact with the multi-species coalition known as the Lylat System, the enigmatic and dutiful Lylat Intelligence Office had been coming here. He was told, like everyone else, that LIO was only here to research the Krazoa ruins on Cerinia. But even if that were true – an assumption not taken for granted by anyone within the Order- LIO's agents had a reputation as shadowy figures who had never fully gained the trust or blessings of the Order. Many felt that they were intruders; sticking their alien noses into business that was not theirs.
Four dead Lylatians was sure to get the attention of LIO, no matter what the circumstances. Randorn was already dreading the political headache that was sure to follow the investigation.
"So we've got four Avatars murdered by Lylatians," said Randorn to no one in particular, "I'm sure those damned Shadows will love to hear that."
"Oh there is so much LIO will love to hear Gatekeeper," said Aldari, "Namely how two of the murderers are dead here in this shrine…"
"Just a moment please," Randorn begged, "All these fragmented pieces of the same puzzle. Do we have any kind of timeline or sequence of events laid out?"
Aldari shook his head solemnly slowly. Randorn's spirit sank to a new low. "All we know is what I have already told you. The Honor Guards arrive, they're assailed and killed. Then Kailan, Fera, and the kit arrive. Kailan dies and Fera attempts to escape through the warp panel, but from what you said earlier, it sounds like she chose to send her kit through first. Saving her daughter was probably the last thing she lived to do."
Randorn held back tears and emotions again. Quickly, he turned the conversation to what had happened next. He looked at the other two bodies for a few moments, scrutinizing them, "All right. But what killed our murderers then? I don't see anyphysical wounds."
"Psionic feedback," Aldari knelt beside one of the wolves and tilted the head until its right ear was in the light. The inside of the ear was smeared with dried blood.
"Their eyes are as red as old stars. All that blood had to come from somewhere." Randorn knew this speech. Though not a doctor or Healer, he knew that any large quantity of blood in the sensory organs was an indication of psionic feedback. From the amount Randorn could discern, he could surmise that catastrophic damage had been done to the brains of the two Lylatians.
"That's all we have to go on. We'll have to wait for the official autopsy. Assuming of course that LIO lets us keep the bodies long enough," Aldari rose to his feet again.
A chill suddenly went up Randorn's spine. "If the murderers were killed by psionic feedback, then do we have Cerinian… or even Avatar suspects?"
Deris shook his head. "Urel did not report any other Cerinians outside of Kailan and Fera. Urel was released before Kailan was killed, so if any Avatars had entered the shrine and then killed our murderers, Urel would have seen it."
"But then… surely Urel saw who did kill the murderers?
"If he did," replied Aldari, "We don't know. We will have to wait until we have access to Urel again."
For once, neither Sentinel had an answer. Randorn cursed quietly.
It was still raining outside. For a moment, Randorn considered running to the streets and just letting the rain soak him, cleanse him of all the death he now felt surrounded by. Just forget about the formality and dignity of the situation and procedures. And just scream and cry over his friends' deaths. Anything to get out of this shrine where nine had come and only one had left.
But such was not very becoming of a Gatekeeper. All he could do was gaze out at the rain and imagine that somewhere, out there in the city or perhaps even off world by now, was the killer of killers – the Off Worlder with an aura – if he even existed.