Chapter 9: The Light of Life
King Elieon's reign upon the moon, year 586
The Imperial City, Uranus
Castle Deagelle
The quiet of the somber Uranian night filled the area surrounding the walls of the Imperial palace with a suffocating kind of dread. In like kind, the outstretched flames of the torches wavered with the raised voices drifting from the walls of the great hall.
"I have heard enough!" King Bastion roared as he sat atop his throne in his hall. "You would so betray your king so when I have shown you years of faith and loyality, always listening to your visions. Always paying heed to every word spoken. Take him to prison!"
"No! No!" the chamberlain protested struggling as Jafari was held up under his arms by two armored guards. "My lord, have mercy. Please! I have given you a lifetime of loyalty, please spare your chamberlain."
The captain of the guards walked forward before his king. "He speaks the truth, my king, never was there a day when he did not serve you—"
"Do I have to have you locked away in the dungeons too, Pietro?!" The king inquired heatedly. "I can only afford myself one rebel in this court, Captain. I have no need of your patronizing of my judgment."
"But my king, he is my father-", Pietro took another step forward, but his words were halted savagely by those of the king.
"He is a traitor!!" King Bastion's face was red with anger as he stood and lifted a hand to the guards. "Take the good chamberlain to the dungeons and lock him away, never to be freed under my rule again."
"No!" Jafari struggled against the armored arms pulling him back and dragging him across the stone floor. "Pietro! Do not let them imprison me! Do not betray your own father!"
The captain of the guard winced at his father's words and fought the urge to rush to his side. He instead fixed him with a steely gaze and shouted, "Betray you?! You betrayed me and this court the moment you began conversing in secret with Scaveus! We trusted you to remain loyal to this king and this country or was that too much to ask of you?!"
Jafari lurched forward with all of his strength, the guards restraining him struggling to pull him back. "I remain loyal!! To this country and to this family! But so long as I breathe, no princess will rule as queen on that throne. No abomination will break the bonds of tradition. The old ways are sacred. How dare you break them, my king! You bring dishonor on generations of you brethren without any remorse. How dare you!!"
The guards pulled at Jafari, their gaits barely matching his frenzied strength as he resisted them. Bastion was now leaning his head on his hand, rubbing his forehead wearily. When the Uranian king spoke his voice was barely a whisper of what it had been earlier, his posture slumped like that of a broken man.
"Remove him from my sight." The king commanded as two more armored guards rushed from his side to help their struggling comrades. "And lock him away in our deepest dungeon. He is never to be seen or heard from again."
Pietro's anger was at its breaking point, but he stilled his quiver fists and bade himself to remain calm in the sight of the king. When he spoke his voice was steady, but insistent. "Sir,lock him in one of the towers and confine him to the smallest cell. We will hear nothing more of him. I will look after him, I promise."
His captain's pleas fell on deaf ears as the king's jaw clenched as he stood. "You plot to betray me in my home, where my wife sleeps, where my daughter plays! And you dare call yourself a loyal man!" He then gestured to his guards, "Lock him away where no one is to see him."
"My king, please consider-" Pietro tried, but quieted quickly as the king turned around and focused his vehement gaze on him.
The King raised his hand to silence the captain of the guard and when he did speak it was in a deadly whisper.
"Enough, Pietro, it is done." Bastion looked at the younger man, his soul aflame and vengeful, his eyes ablaze with a sinister, unkempt fire and from it Pietro gathered the good sense to hold his tongue from making any further pleas towards the man. No matter how much he desired clemency for his father, he knew the king was not someone to cross.
"Bastion, no! Vile betrayer! Of your people, of your class, of your bloodline!" Jafari's voice protested as he was pulled from the room fighting, his eyes ablaze with the fervor of a crazed man. "Your time will come!! When the end ensues, you will be one of the first to die!"
The chamberlain's desperate voice died away as the thick doors of the throne room were closed to the corridor outside. If even his most trusted seer had turned on him, then what of the rest of his court? Who was he to trust? Could he trust? The king let out a long breath and all but collapsed in his seat, one anguished tear streaking its way down his cheek before he wiped it away. No one was to see him like this. What am I to do now?
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King Elieon's Reign Upon the Moon 577
Anatropous, North Western Jupiter
It was a cold mist, always in the north of Jupiter, a cold mist. Lucretia shivered unnoticeably beneath her thick woolen cloak. This moist, green land was so much different in climate and in make than the sun scorched country she hailed from and even after sheltering for years on such planets as diverse as Pluto and Saturn, the climate change was still a difficult adjustment for her to transverse with every new planet they traveled to. Jupiter, the largest planet in the Sol system was no exception to this general rule, though the proud Marian would never admit this to her schoolmates.
So much had changed with them over the past half year, they had grown up on the inside as well as the outside, though they still nurtured several of their characteristic traits without any want or wish of letting them go, such as Lucretia's stubborn pride or Anna's obstinate hard headedness or Sinis' driven ambition to show the world what he was made of and that no one especially not his classmates should underestimate them. All of these things remained very obvious and real traits of the royal children, but instead of diminishing as they often do in most, they were shaped, always in flux in response to the environment and experiences the children were engrossed in. It was in this state that the children came to Jupiter, the birthplace of all diversity in the universe.
After their shuttle had landed, the children had been ushered into long sinewy boats hewn out of sturdy oak and reinforced with oakum to finishing the journey towards reaching their first destination: the Jutland. The Jutland was a country to the north of Anatropous ruled by the tribes of the Weagmundings to the west and the Scythians to the east. None of the children had been told much about it accept that it was a peaceful place and that they had nothing to fear from it. Lucretia being naturally suspicious along with many of her comrades from their previous stay on Saturn was untrusting of this vague comment and from where they sat in the bow of the medium boat, she saw the perfect opportunity to question Anna about it, but it still remained to be seen if she would be able to get any words out of her.
The Jovian princess had been abnormally quiet since their departure from Saturn. It had not been unexpected, Anna's detachment of herself from the real world. In the days following Entarais' disappearance she had grown quiet and refused to leave the muted sanctity of her bed chamber. It had taken days of coaxing for their host to convince her to come out of the refuge where she had been hiding herself away from the present and when she had finally reemerged it was clear that she was not well.
Her naturally sun kissed skin, only a shade or two lighter than Lucretia's own, had taken on a sickly pallor and around her eyes dark circles from a mixture of loss of rest and uncontrollable fits of crying had formed and anyone who tried to engage the Jovian in conversation found her suddenly and perfectly mute. Her comrades did not need to be told by one of the palace healers what the cause of her dire symptoms where. By just looking in her eyes they could tell that the frightening pallor and unnatural melancholy where a combination of self blame and misplaced sense of failure, guilt, and premature loss.
It had been six months since Entarais disappearance and they had all felt the loss for they had all been there, had all been presence when she was taken away. They had worked together, had tried to save her, but in the end all of their combined efforts had been in vain and she had been stolen away from them by that criminal of a man before any help could arrive. They had all felt the guilt as they had been lead back to Draupnir Castle by a mounted guard sent for their safety, but none of them had really shed any tears save Anna, they were all too in shock at the sudden happening. It had been the quietest night Lucretia could remember, quite possibly the most silent night of her life because the silence had not fully dissipated not even over the months. That was when everything had begun to change.
Anna lost her usual outgoing nature, her fun loving sense of humor snuffed out by her insurmountable grief at the loss of her best friend. Sinis had become more cynical if it was possible and Orion had become more quietly contemplative. Had the Mercurian ever been a quiet boy before, he was twice that now. And in the coming weeks after the accident they had all been dealt a second very real loss. Early one morning, a message from Venus had been delivered to the Castle before the breakfast hour while the children had been still sound asleep in their beds. No one had been told what the message entailed, but by dawn Alexandria had been awoken and told to pack her things. At breakfast the Venian had not been present and Lucretia had thought it odd for, as petite as the princess of beauty and light was, she had a voracious appetite and had never once passed on a meal.
After they had been excused, Lucretia with Orion alongside her had gone to investigate the
Venian's quarters and to their astonishment the two had found that the golden haired girl and all of her belongings were nowhere to be seen. The room had been stripped of any and all royalties and embellishments and Alexandria was missing. Strict questioning of a servant who had been passing by in the corridor had assuaged the children's fears that yet another one of them had been taken as he explained that the girl had been called away by her parents and was en route back to Venus to meet her family. It had not been as abrupt a loss as Entarais' had been, but it was still a mortal blow to the morale of their small group and especially to Lucretia. She would never admit to it, but she had changed in response to the departure of the Venian.
Lucretia had, for a time, become more reserved and a quiet bitterness had taken root in her though she was seldom one to show it to the others. An unnecessary response to the wonderment of why she had been deserted, as it appeared, but the closest person to her of their group. In retrospect, her reaction was Anna in reverse. Instead of regressing inward entirely, she had thrown herself into grueling physical regimes. The last of their months spend on Saturn was spent by the stern Marian mostly in the training yard.
She had never been one for violence, unlike her kin, but the art of warfare fascinated her and proved to be a soul saving Boone in the months when nothing but physical and mental discipline could save her from the vengeful inward yearnings of her unanswered questions and innermost insecurities. Why had Alexandria left them? She knew it was absurd, but she could not keep the unbidden fear from her mind for long. Could it possibly have been in response to her growing closeness to the girl?
Lucretia knew, as the closest person to Alex in their little group, that the girl wrote frequent letters to her family back on Venus detailing their exploits and experiences across the planets. Had Alex told her family about the odd bonds they and their comrades shared? Had her parents somehow taken offense to their friendship? On the outside Venus and Mars were allies , together in all things, but between the two populations there was growing malcontent and having a royal Venian child, a princess groomed and styled from birth to rule in the wealthiest family in the whole of the Sol system befriend the first cousin of the self appointed barbarian Tarquin king of Mars probably would not have sounded pleasing to their ears. Surely though, it would have had to have been a more pressing matter for Alex to have been called home as she was? Lucretia did not know nor did Anna or Sinis or even the intellectual prince of Mercury. The mystery had never been solved.
It was a possibility that, even through her days and nights of mental and physical work, had continued to plague the Martian princess to no end and so, even on the shores of the River Esmerald as they floated comfortably down the green waters of Jupiter.
Anna sat with her elbows resting on her knees and her weight resting on her arms. Emerald green eyes were dull, almost non attentive as they scanned the landscape around them. Not even the wet, fresh smell of her native north could rouse the girl, it only served to add a feeling of nostalgia to her already troubled soul. To anyone and everyone around her she appeared simply numb, not even a living breathing being, a corpse brought along for the ride and only that. That was why when she felt the light tap on her shoulder she barely acknowledged it at first until it came again, this time harder, a little more insistent. She swallowed dazedly and turned towards the ever stoic and contemplative form of her Marian comrade.
"Anna, what is the Jutland? Is it really as peaceful as they say?" Lucretia asked in a careful whisper.
On the inside Anna was laughing bitterly to herself, but on the outside nothing changed. She was a corpse still with life barely breathed into it. "Yes. The Weagmundings and the Scythians are at peace with one another."
Lucretia seemed disposed by the answer and looked around her into the muddled fog that hung along the wooded shores at their sides, obscuring any potential enemy from view, but she did not ask again. The events of the past year had taught her that there was no point in being overly cautious. Let what will come their way, they would face it in the only way they could, in the only way they had: together.
Life was not so for them now.
The calming lull of the lapping of the river water against the keel of the boat caused Sinis' eyelids to droop. The prince of darkness and death would not admit it freely to anyone, but he was exhausted. The shuttle flight from Saturn to Jupiter had not been without discontent. Not of his own violation, he had to add. It was due to the odd ways in which his classmates were behaving. Each one of them always seemed lost in their own little worlds, unwilling to face the one they were traveling in. At first, he had thought Lucretia to be the one the most in touch with the present, but she was always off on her own someplace. One afternoon, he had found her in on of the many practice yards of Draupnir Castle exerting all of the repressed feelings she never allowed to show in controlled strains of focused fervor that Lucretia of Mars would become famous for many years later in adulthood and he had come upon the conclusion that she was not one to trifle with.
Sinis closed his eyes as a long yawn escaped his lips and drew the undivided attention of all of his classmates which he steadily ignored with practiced ease. Out of all of the days of his life thus far, the ones he spent on Saturn were the most vivid in his memory and though they would not always remain so, he was silently sure they would be ones he would never forget. The muddied ground broken and specked in the Neptunian girl's blood. Anna holding her gut and crying uncontrollably. Alexandria had not failed them. She had somehow gained an audience with the illusive Lord Anslem and had convinced him to send a rally of guards to their aide, but it had been too late. Entarais had been taken, Anna had been beaten down, and all of the other children and the guards tracking them had arrived only to find the grieving Jovian writhing hopelessly in the swamp grass. None of them had been the same after that moment. Each one of them had changed in the short time since then.
Lucretia had thrown herself into a restrictive training regime which isolated her from the rest of them for long hours everyday, not that Sinis particularly cared where it concerned the Marian anyway. Orion had become more stoic and was not given to crying nearly so easily as he used to. Even just turning in the small boat to look at him now, Sinis could see the difference in his Mercurian friend from what he had been months ago. Alexandria had been sent for and carted off to Venus shortly after the mishap and Sinis had formulated her family had become worried for her safety after the ordeal concerning the Neptunian's capture. And Anna was now practically a mute, almost never uttering a word unless requested to by a tutor or superior of any kind. They had lost their childhood lifeblood, all of them, earlier than most and it had taken its toll on the young royals.
Sinis would admit it openly to no one, but he too had changed some. Having Entarais snatched out from under their eyes in this little fictional safety they had created for themselves had solidified something in him that had only wavered on the verge of death and life before: scorn. He now knew his purpose. He would show them, show them all. Out of all of that chaos, his desires had been coaxed from a liquid structure to a bodily form that became almost a different entity entirely. A part of himself that thought for itself and only used his body as a shell to hide itself from the others who, every time they admonished him with a disappointing look, added spite to its invisible wound. He was not the prince of Saturn any longer, but a thing, an indefinable creature that even he failed to understand. All he knew was the he had this power to him, he could feel it growing and shaping inside of himself without his prompting. He was not the same pathetic boy who mourned the lost of a friend, he was something better. That momentary self resentment had molded itself into this new animal inside him which drove him in pursuit of his deepest desires so beyond human compassion or concerns. He would show them, he would show them all, that he was more than they thought he was.
Sinis swallowed quietly and removed his gaze from the polished bottom of the boat where it had retreated in his short reverie and brought it up to slowly scan the faces of the other children who had all turned their attention to other venues. It was in this space that the entity reared its beastly head within him and beneath the controlled amethyst eyes that mirrored nothing of the conflict inside him, cauldrons of envy and enmity brewed and bubbled with every glance he gave the children he did not ever once reference as his 'friends'.
Lucretia shifted uneasily beneath her cloak. Just because a country and people may proclaim to be peaceful, does not mean they really are. Who would know how quickly and ruthlessly power can change hands then a Marian? But the status of these people was not all that worried Lucretia. She knew Anna was a Jovian, the daughter of their Northern king, but who knew how these people would receive her and receive them? This was not her tribe, these were not Anna's people and Lucretia knew from experience that it would not do for them to be in the middle of clashing tribes. She closed her eyes and tried not the catch the splash of remembered blood against her eyelids.
The keel of the small boat creaked and keened as they continued their voyage down the river. The water level was not so high now, as the spring rains had not yet arrived and so it made the voyage a lulling one which was not as swift as they had been expecting.
Orion pulled his cobalt cloak closer to himself in the cool morning air. This land they had been brought to seemed ten times vaster than even those of Saturn which they had wandered at length and the trees hanging over the shoreline were humongous, wider than two leagues each in meter. The Mercurian prince had always considered himself a knowledgeable boy, but Jupiter was beyond his bounds. What little facts he knew were cultural and, he was sure, would be of little or no use to them in the long run.
At one point, the river current became faster and the shore evened out. This was where they set ashore and made themselves ready to disembark into this strange new world that was Jupiter.
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King Elieon's reign upon the moon, year 587
The Imperial City, Uranus
Castle Deagelle
Queen Lucilla strode down the empty torch lit corridor, her dainty feet marching in a smart soldier-like fashion uncommon to her character. Any onlooker, if they paid close enough attention, could tell that the stubborn mild mannered lady was anything but on this particular evening. The strain of not having a male heir had taken a strain the queen had not expected on her marriage with the king. In public they were both behaved according to the standards of their society. He was the dutiful warrior king who always wore the armor of their Imperial horsemen, which had been designed more for use than for decoration.
She was the obedient wife and queen who was generous to her husbands whims and who also completed the domestic tasks and rituals. It was not a thing spoken of or widely known outside the palace walls, but the queen provided the strong base from which her husband could gather strength when his own walls were on the verge of collapse. It was part of her responsibility as royal wife and understanding lover, but now the task had doubled.
The whole world around them was deteriorating though the Uranian court always shrugged off any insinuations that it may indeed be so far under the situation that it had no idea how to deal with it. The inner planets were involved in a full scale civil war just between themselves and the rest of the Sol system was left to puzzle over how to deal with the repercussions. A war of this magnitude had never occurred before, not since the peoples and their planets had been made mortal and had been left on their own to fend for themselves by the Great Nine.
No one knew quite what to do or how to react. After a pardonable silence of drawn out hostility, Mars had declared war upon its closest ally, Venus and had invaded the country within a week. Jupiter, being engaged in a number of valuable trade agreements with the little red planet which were detrimental to its survival as a civilized society, had entered the fray on behalf of its Marian ally, yielding its massive military resources to the whims of the Marian king, Tarquinius.
Mercury, the least combative of them all, had for a number of years been engaged in an agreement with Venus which would guarantee them protection should a foreign army chose to invade their lands. Should a similar situation occur with the Venians then the agreement would act in reverse and Mercury would be obligated to come to their aid and so it was and had been for almost a year now. Full blown warfare undertaken on the plains of Venus had sent the monarchs of all of the planets into massive shock, most of all the King of Uranus. Not only was he dealing with the dangerous threat of treason within his own kingdom, but now he had to decide whether or not to take sides in the epic battle. The other outers, Pluto, Saturn, and Neptune were taking a neutral stance to the conflict at hand. What went on beyond their borders was not their business. Uranus had always had an inward facing diplomatic policy and so it should remain. The traditional ways had always worked before so why discard them now? Let the world rot around them for all they cared, out of the ashes they would rise, powerful and unharmed to rebuild the world to their liking. But it was not all so simple at that.
The standing of the king and his bloodline was precarious. He had no male heir to succeed him. His only child was a daughter who, although beloved and sheltered by him, could not by the laws of their people succeed him and it worried the king and his court to no end. In the years since Regelle's birth, the king had been the single target for numerous assassination attempts and it was beginning to run him weary into the ground. Paranoia was beginning to infiltrate his mind and body. Only a year ago, he had condemned his trusted chamberlain, Jafari, to the depths of the Imperial dungeons. Prisoners sent there were never pardoned. The cell they were thrown into was the one they would die and decompose in. There was no mercy anymore. King Bastion was no longer as beloved as he once was with the people of his kingdom. By condemning a life long friend and servant essentially to death he had stuck a silent sense of panic into the hearts of the population. Now, he would be feared. All would know him as a formidable opponent.
Civil unrest within Uranus had taken a foothold within the walls of the Imperial city. People talked of the paranoid king and how he never left his palace. Merchants returning from trading in the South spoke of the prosperous Southern king, Amenemhat and how his laws and reforms kept his people both safe and happy and who had, by means of arms, retained the Eastern colony of Senusret after it had revolted. The Southern king was so taken with his own achievements that he had named his newly born son after the colony he had reclaimed for his kingdom.
The people of the North were both naturally envious and suspicious of these great deeds they heard of taking place in the South. A great foreboding had settled over the Imperial city in these dark days for the northern kingdom that nothing could assuage. Their wealth and great prestige which used to be the pride of Uranus was melting into historical obscurity and the people were over taken by nostalgia. This yearning for their glorious past allowed for a rebirth of sorts, an embrace of the radical, of civil unrest in all of its blighted forms. Deviants were beginning to make themselves known by cavorting in public and meeting in secret to protest the legitimacy of the king's bloodline. Among these thorn bushes alive with threats there slithered a serpent of very real power and treachery. He was known as Scaveus the Tyrant to the people of the kingdom. He was the son of one of Bastion's uncles and was a claimant to the throne of the northern kingdom.
He had first made a name for himself, long before Regelle had even been born, when Bastion had first been crowned king. He had lands to the West and there his father was a great lord, but Scaveus was not satisfied with his lot. His uncle, the previous king of the north, had always been rather fond of him and so he and Bastion had grown up more in the style of brothers than of cousins and both had journeyed on the Great Exchange together as children and had remained close up until the day Bastion was announced as king. In that first year, tensions within the ruling noble classes had rose and sides had been taken. A revolt ensued and was drawn out by the combatants on both sides into a four month conflict. It ended when Scaveus engaged his cousin's troops in battle and his forces had been outmatched, fleeing the battleground like a she wolf's frightened whelps. Bastion had ridden into the circle and found his cousin had been surrounded by his men and wrestled to the ground, still fighting.
Out of a sense of misled brotherly justice, Bastion had not sentenced Scaveus to death for his crimes, but had rather banished him out of the north never to return under strict penalty of death. The wound made that day had been deep and continued to fester into the present day. Therein a grudge lay and with Bastion's failure to procure a male heir from his bloodline, Scaveus had found an easy passage back into the hearts of the people and he was taking full advantage of it. Lucilla did not even pretend to hide the fact that his rumored presence in the capitol again made her nervous. She had always feared for Bastion's life, but her belief in her husband's strength and influence had led her to grow comfortable when it came to fears for her only child. She felt that Regelle was well taken care of. Her father loved her, which was more than what Lucilla had thought he would at her birth and he wanted her to succeed him as the first queen of Uranus, but that fact put her young life in serious danger.
Lucilla closed her eyes and chocked back a sob, "If only I could have a son, it would give way to a golden world."
Lucilla loved her daughter, but she also knew that Regelle could never really live safely and happily until the family was secured in its own power. When there were potential assassins around every bend. The young princesses only safety was to be kept under her parents' supervised protection, but that was not a life. Lucilla grimaced. Already her child had been forced to forgo the Great Exchange, a normal routine that all royal children went through which served a diplomatic purpose as well as a practical one, giving the youngsters the chance to form bonds between themselves and perhaps one day their countries. Regelle had been held back. It had not been what the Queen had wanted, but it was for her own good. Regelle was a bright child, with a gift for picking things up quickly, but as the only direct heir of her father's bloodline, her parents could not risk her education and in like kind expose her to the dangerous world. It was one of the things, Lucilla regretted most when it came to her daughter, but it had to be done.
On the other side of the palace the very little girl in question balanced unsteadily on small stone rim of the well to the stables, her arms spread eagled out in the air to balance herself. She leaned to the side unknowingly and lost her balance somewhat, those same arms flailing to keep what little was left of her equilibrium as she skirted from one side to the other, from foot to foot, finally jumping down to the ground when her foothold on the watery edge became too precarious. Once on stable ground, she twirled around carelessly in the beautiful sunshine of the afternoon.
At her waist, a short wooden practice sword held to her side, slid snuggly beneath her belt. The Uranian child halted suddenly, an odd feeling over taking her. A familiar one, she felt powerful in a way she had never known. The wind around her grew and blew the wisps of short hair off from her forehead, exposing a golden mark which no one else was around to see. The inner power swelled within her and the wind cycloned around her small form.
The horses in the stables neighed and started as the branches of the scantly surrounding desert trees bent beneath the sudden onslaught. However, as quickly as the power had overtaken her, it faded and the wind came back down to the comforting breeze it had once been. Regelle did not know why she felt the sudden loss as greatly as she did. It was almost as if there was a void in her chest now.
However, unbeknownst to the small girl, the mark of the planet Uranus had appeared on her forehead during that short moment and even in the wake of it, still lingered.
The mark of the chosen. The mark of those to lead, not to follow.
This carefree princess would find her life a more eventful one than ever she could imagine.
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Year 577
Valley Semiramis
Providence of Ambrosia, Venus
It was a ripe day. The sun was high in the fair Venian atmosphere, sailing in and out of view due to the white stratus clouds traveling freely across the vast expanse of the gold sky due to the light breeze that was blowing. The tall grasses of the Valley Semiramis were green and vibrant in contrast to the surrounding heavens. The slender stalks swayed gently to and fro concealing the seemingly shorter stems of secular Gallica and their maroon petals from destruction along with the more delicate ginger blossoms of the fragrant Clivia miniata.
It was summer and hot, but Prince Alexi, having spent a great deal of time in his uncle's lands; did not mind it. In fact, he lavished it as if in worship of the sun god Apollo as he lay, sheltered by the long grasses surrounding him. As Alexandria approached the resting place of her older cousin, she saw this characteristic gesture and could not keep the teasing smile from her face. Relinquishing in the impossible effort, she loomed stealthily, the only sound being heard not of her footfalls, but of the gentle sweep of the blades of grass against the edges of her legs mingling discretely with the orange satin of her skirt.
The Golden Prince, as he was known throughout the universe for his status as the only son of the richest kingdom in the Sol system, lay comfortably at ease in the plush unintended bed the day had given him. His form was not muscular, but long and stringy and as no one would merely gleam so from his overly grandiose mention, Alexi was a simply a royal boy, no different or more special than other boys his own age who lived and labored across the planet Venus. Since Alexandria's arrival home she had been struggling to see her cousin in this new light. Simply a boy….
For as long as she could remember, Alexandria had always known her cousin by his status and by his image. It was not often in those days that she had see much of her uncle the king or his family and so her thoughts concerning them had been formed almost completely from the descriptions other family members gave them or of the popular opinion of the general population. She had very few memories of spending any time with them and even sketchier ones concerning what they looked like exactly, though for the king that was not hard as his image was stamped on every genuine coin in the realm. Still, she had to admit that it had never felt odd then to not have known them personally, her family.
Her father, as a brother and vassal of the king, was the only one to see him or his children on a regular basis and very sparingly did he ever invite his children or wife to accompany him on the journey and when he did it was usually one or two of Alexandria's brothers who where chosen to go. Most often the eldest and second eldest. Women on Venus were not seen as inferior to the men in anyway, unlike in most other cultures of the day, but royal business such as what her father dealt in was not a realm in which Venian women of noble birth thrived in, the only exception being of the Queen Circe and her ladies, but her aunt had always treated Alexandria differently, as if she could do anything she wanted, maybe even be queen in her stead one day.
Circe had always treated her niece differently. She always thought Alexandria unique among the royal daughters of her family. That was why she had been called home to Ambrosia in the first place, to fulfill her destiny she had been told, but what that destiny was in the eyes of the king and queen, she did not know. Distracted, Alexandria wondered if she ever would? There were so many things they did not know, so many blind spots they had to feel their way through in life just to get to a certain destination that might not even be the right one. What was the point of it all if life was essentially nothing more than a sightless fumble through uncertain terrain? Why survive? Why persevere if there might not be anything for you at the end of that road? Did her uncle know the answer? Did the king of the moon even? Did the ever omniscient Plutonians? She did not know for sure, but she would bet they didn't or if they did they would be keeping it to themselves. From where Alexandria came from, Plutonians among various other races were not known for keeping promises, but she was not sure that she could still believe that point of view after visiting Pluto first hand for herself.
So many things had changed within her since she had left her home in the last year to join the Great Exchange. After spending so long a time with a group of companions of strangers from different planets and diverse cultural backgrounds, she found her views and thoughts changed significantly. As small as it sounded, Alex had never thought she would think differently than her family on anything. After all, they were royals, they were supposed to be the most educated and advanced of their population so shouldn't their thinking too match that precedent? Theirs was the Golden Planet. People in systems far and wide new of the vast wealth and enculturation of the planet of Venus, mostly because its trade empire spanned beyond the borders of most known systems here.
It was an odd experience for Alexandria, especially at her age, to realize the simple knowledge that the views her society held of the world were somewhat closed minded and were possibly not the best to believe in.
Prince Alexi popped one blue eye open and peered up at his cousin lazily. "You look like a heathen in that color, princess."
Alexandria looked down at the red shirt she had belted at her waist to fit in with her orange skirt. It was a vibrant dark red, a Marian hue, cleaner now then when it had been given to her on Saturn, but it still carried the scent of jasmine and sage that she had adored basking in for every day of the last two years.
A haughty smirk rose to Alexandria's lips at her cousin's distasteful comment, "It suits me fine for the purposes of today unlike your attire, dear cousin. Flee from your father's clutches this afternoon did you?" Here she paused as he opened both of his eyes to glare at her and with a charm almost natural to all Venian women, she deflected him by batting her eyes at him innocently and pressed on with words that were meant to be anything but in their intent, "And here I thought you were growing up, finally."
The prince scowled at her as he sat up and propped himself up on his elbows. Venus was a rich paradise, a angelic world and their family made up the divinely ordained ruling class. The Gods had smiled on them. Theirs was the Golden family, their symbol was the Ambrosian Eagle, a strong and predatory bird that soared through the skies with dignified ease. No hunter had ever shot one down and there was no limit to how high they could fly. The mountains could not even reach them, so swift and benighted by nothing were they. He was a golden son of Venus, why should he have to grow up so soon? So quickly? He was not yet a man. True, he was nearing the age of fourteen, the age of accepted manhood on Venus, but he was not yet there. Why push him so? Why put so much pressure on him to be there in that vice of maturity and responsibility?
"I do not see the haste in worrying about what I shall be like when I am king now." Alexi swallowed what was left of his boyish pride and humiliated dignity in confiding such things to a girl and his cousin. "That is still a fair time off yet. After all, I am not yet a man."
"But you will be in a year's time." Alexandria retorted logically.
Sorted indignation rose up in Alexi's chest. "Do you not think I know that, princess?"
"You do not behave as though you do." Alexandria continued well after the horrified hurt look perched on his features. "Think Alexi, should something happen to your father within the next fortnight you would be expected to step up early. What then would you do if you were no prepared? "
Alexi was older than she, by a reasonable few years, but he had never ventured outside of the confines of his own country, had never set foot on the hardened ground of another planet no experienced people from other cultures personally. The nature of Alexi's status as King Alexander's only son, had separated him from her fate. Indeed, had he been a second son in the succession instead of the first he would have been sent on to participate in the Great Exchange instead of she, but it was not so. Alexandria had been chosen by her uncle to take his son's place in the exchange because he could not afford to send his only succeeding heir as king out into the 'barbaric' world at the risk that anything should happen to him. And though, she could see the flaw behind Alexander's reasoning now that she had been out and seen the dexterity of the world first hand, she was glad in a way that her cousin could not go so she could have the opportunity in his stead.
So many things made more sense to her now than they had before her departure. After leaving the paradise that was Venus, she now understood that life was not a fairytale and that being 'privileged' really did mean nothing next to experience and initiative. She knew better now. As the prince continued to stare upon her with horror in his eyes, she knew she knew better what to expect of the world than he and she was proud of herself for it. Things did not always go according to plan and often they went horribly astray.
Briefly, the image of Anna bent over the bloodied grass of the Saturnarian marshlands, great hitching sobs shaking her small frame as she lay in the mud and wept, flashed before her mind's eye and everything inside her stilled. Yes, the world was not all a paradise.
"What demon has taken you over?" Alexi asked, leaning back against the cushioning blades once more. "Things like that do not happen here, not in this land. You've been away too long, princess. Relax and seize the day at hand, as it is. We only ever live if in the present so lay back and pretend you are in the Gardens of Delight with the sun overhead and the warming breeze at your feet."
Alexandria did not protest him this time. What was the point? He was older, his status was higher, and he would not, could not understand what she was saying to him. His experience did not prelude possibilities of such extreme content. Overhead, she heard an Ambrosian Eagle shriek as it circled the area where its prey was trapped on the ground, ready to swoop and deliver the killing blow at any given moment. No there was no way they would know, could know until it happened to them. Until the great Eagle fell out of the sky and the illustrious golden paradise they had built for themselves floundered, they would never understand, but could that happen even? Could anything bring the great Venian empire to its knees? With Alexander as king, Alexandria highly doubted it.
With a resigned sigh, the Venian princess fell back against the soft grasses and basked in the natural beauty of the day for what it was, at present, worth.
-----------
Year 577
Providence of Elucion, Uranus
It was easy to be bought and sold. The point of contention, the entire raison d'etre of the system was to break your spirit and Entarais was now a part of that. Segal had taken her as far as the docking stations at Alteran and there, he had sold her to a band of traders for a hefty price. Tied and bound by ropes, she walked behind the camel of the leader of the band with his three companions flanking her on horseback, two on either side of her and one bringing up the rear of their little group. It was a protective stance. It was a stupid man who wandered the deserts of Uranus alone without a swift steed and surer spear at his side. These were dangerous times. The young northern prince, Bastion, had only recently risen to the throne of his father and though he was married, his marriage had yet to prove fruitful. He had no heir in a land where having power was a precarious business and everyone was on edge because of it.
The hot and of the desert scorched her feet and they were beginning to effuse a mixture of pus and blood which was clotted up by little particles of sand. They had taken her shoes and had only left her with her rich garments, a soiled blue tunic and trousers which were naturally too hot for the environment. The arid heat of the Uranian backlands had dried her mouth and filled its edges and the corners of her eyes with sand from the blaring winds. She was thirsty, but she did not dare ask for a drink of water. When she had asked for a blanket the night before to protect her from the dropping temperatures, she received a cruel laugh and a swift kick in the stomach. She had lain there, in the frigid sand trying to hold back tears as the leader and his man sat around a warm fire and ate the roasted sweetbreads of an animal they had only just killed.
She was well now. Her fever had broken shortly after leaving Saturn and she had regained her strength on the journey to Uranus. The wound in her back had been tended to in Alteran and now all it did was dully itch beneath its bandages as a dull reminder of the life she had led before this hell had descended upon her. What was she now?
"You are property." The head man had told her when Segal had handed her over for a fifty pieces of gold. "You belong to Uranus now."
Every so often she stumbled and lost her footing and was dragged a little ways before she had regained the strength to stand and continue on again. The men laughed at her and made jokes at her frail composition and at how it appeared she had never worked a day in her life and that it was all about to change for her. She would be a pampered Neptunian brat no longer, they had told her. The people here would make a Uranian out of her, a real individual of worth and heartiness. Over the past few days, the men had made it a sport to tell her of how she would be stripped of everything that made her different. It would be forbidden of her to speak in her natural foreign tongue and she would learn the language of Uranus and be taught it by the servants of her master's house if she was lucky, if she was sold to a proper owner.
If not then she would have to learn it on her own accord. She would not be allowed to pray to the gods of her people for help, if they had any, nor practice any rituals sacred to them and if she defied any of these rules then she could run the risk of being beaten, branded, or even killed by her master in retribution. She would learn to accept Uranian ways and worship Uranian gods and think, move, and speak all like a standard Uranian. But genetically, she would never be able to escape what she was, the fact that she was indeed different, and so she would have to accept her new status as subhuman and subservient to the household she was to serve. She was young yet, though, they told her and it was easier for a puppy to take to new tricks than an old dog. In her mind though, she must begin thinking of herself as a Uranian, if she was to survive, she would have to completely forget the life she had led before. It did not matter and worse, everything that she was, had never been, she was a blank slate to write upon and be written upon. She was theirs and she was afraid.
The man holding the rope that bound her hands gave a supreme yank and she fell forward again, and she rose quicker this time with a mouthful of sand and none of her dignity or self respect left intact as they laughed at her.
Their destination was the city of Bunhen, the slave city they called it for it was where all undesirables were brought to be exposed of their individuality and were made 'others', outcasts where were less than human, and certainly less than Uranian with no status and no worth. It was there where she would be sold and bought, hopefully by a rich man with a household. Child slaves were popular. When an area or people were conquered, the prisoners were separated into groups to be siphoned off by age, gender, ability, importance. The old people were taken as diplomatic slaves, people who could make themselves useful inside a household. The young able-bodied men were sold into means of labor where their vitality and strength could be worked out of them and the young women were either used as breeders for lord's subservient population or for the lord himself.
The children were often used in households and were popular because they did not yet have developed talents and everything they had been taught before could easily be reversed and they could learn to be useful. And in the case that any infants were taken, which were rare as the spoils of war dictated killing those who could grow up to supplant you, a young couple might adopt them and raise them as their own with no knowledge of their heritage or culture, but Entarais was too old to be thought of in that respect. She was old enough to know that she was different, that she was an outsider now on the inside and that was powerful and dangerous information in the current situation she found herself in. Her greatest sin was that she was not yet old enough to realize this, how an outsider on the inside had the power to change things, but no one else yet had figured this out either so it is fair to say that Entarais was right where she should be at that age, thought wise.
In three days time, they had waded through the middle of the Scavian Desert with the city of Bunhen only hours away. In that short time, some physical changes had taken place in the Neptunian. The oozing sores on the bottom of her feet had scabbed over with scar tissue and the burned skin there had become tough and numb to the eternal heat she had grown used to treading. Her lightly tanned complexion had taken on a headily darker sheen with an almost constant glow of moist sweat that never dried covering every edifice. The childlike curiosity which had always been so alive and rich in her gaze towards whatever she approached had faded and dulled and now her eyes were simply blue. Were it not for her affluent attire, no onlooker would have taken her for an niece to one of the most powerful emperors in the Outer kingdoms.
It was only the dark patch of hair upon her head which identified her as an outsider as all natural born Uranians were blessed with fair hair, the darkest of all shades which resembled sand. In any and all other features deference lay therein and was easily spotted out and ostracized by any and all common natural Uranians born. It was their way, the way parents taught their children, the way tutors taught their children. The Uranian way was the best way, Uranian blood was the only pure blood, and any and all other peoples were inferior by birthright, the gods had divined it, the Nine had designed it. That was how things were and in Entarais' naïve and defeated mental state, there was no point in challenging any of it.
The sun went down for the night and they stopped to make camp. The four men made a fire and drew some water from a goat skin for themselves and their animals. Entarais had learned on her first night that begging got her nothing but a stern look of disapproval and a smack to the face which stung on her cheek long into the night and so she had adapted, learned what to do to survive. She would kneel below the drinking animal and cup her hands beneath the bowl it drank out of, catching the overflow and drinking it greedily. When it came to your own survival, nothing could be left up to chance. As a small reward for no longer begging, she was allotted a small piece of sun dried meat along with the piece of hard flatbread which consisted the only meal she was allowed for the day and, as she had done with the water, she took all of this in covetously. Nothing was left to chance when you were on your own. It was a lesson quick learnt. Entarais no longer pondered who she was becoming or who she had been, it was just easier not to think about it.
As the four men gathered around the fire and ate and talked loudly in the foreign tongue Entarais was still struggling to become fluent in, Entarais curled up in the customary ball she had become accustomed to sleeping in with her arms tucked close to her chest protected by her knees. Most of the time the men talked to her using the universal tongue that the moon king had tried to implement, but when they talked among themselves and did not want her to understand, they broke into traditional Uranian. Entarais felt like a fly on the back of a donkey's leg. All of the worldly social charms she had been brought up with meant nothing in this ruthless land where status and station was not based upon mere ability but upon birthright and most importantly, gender. She did not understand much of the Uranian culture yet and had never before traveled to the planet, but what she had seen upon her first day arriving in the north had convinced her that neither outsiders nor girls were held in great esteem by the society at hand.
All that she was, they had taken from her. The handmade blue garments she was wearing had lost their previous luster and were marred by dust and dulling filth. The aquamarine pendant, which had been an heirloom of her family, had been ripped off of her neck and was probably on sale in some Venian controlled trade market in the outer rim for a hefty price. She had not seen her family in years and as the days passed and everything she had been before became more and more worthless, she thought of them less as the days went by.
The same protocol went for her friends. Of her schoolmates, she thought little. It was not that she did not care for them, but in being thrown into this harsh setting, her mind had taken all things not immediate to her own survival and had pushed them to the back of her consciousness. It made her continued existence possible and at the moment, she was continually reminded just how much that mattered. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes in the frigid night. Would she dare let them fall? What was she mourning for? Everything she had lost? What good would it do her now? What good did dead things serve once they were gone?
The morning came on quickly as it always did and before the sun had even risen above the horizon, she was kicked awake and dragged to her feet. They were up and on the trail in mere minutes. Entarais did not raise her head from the bent position she had adopted for it, eyes closed, chin pointed downward towards the sand. What was the point of looking? Sand always looked the same, there was no variation and this land held no beauty for her to care about. She stumbled forward as the rope pulling her was given a sharp yank as often was done to keep her on her toes, but this time when she did not look up after she had regained her footing, the horseman behind her smacked her on the back with his riding stick. When she looked back at him, her reprimand was another painful swat and then when her gaze was properly directed away from him, only then did the head man riding at the front of the procession speak.
"Bunhen." His throaty voice ground out, as though he was not used to speaking, "This place will either be your salvation or your damnation, child, depending on your worth. Present yourself well for your life will depend upon it from this moment on."
As he finished speaking, Entarais looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of the giant sandstone walls and grand gates with ivory statues of the gods carved into either side of the path through the entranceway which towered above the traveler seeming to reach to the heavens. This was truly one of the North's most prosperous cities. The rough sand beneath gave way to roads of polished limestone and walls refined by time with engravings in an alphabet Entarais could not read scrawled vertically on every stone and also on the colored bases and tops of the square pillars. There were large carved statues of the Uranian gods and also of generals and emperors who had gone before one either side of the road, lining the limestone path so that no one who entered through the gates could remain undaunted by the proud display of Uranian heritage looming high above them. The young Neptunian could not help but stare at her surroundings of this brave new world in constant awe. She had not seen architecture so square and sturdy before in her life and the only thing of equal merit she could compare it to were the fluid columns and domed palaces of her own watery homeland, but even then, there was hardly a parallel. Neptune may be just as great and wondrous an empire, but it was not so near as imposing nor as proud as the one the Uranians had erected around themselves.
Entarais gulped loudly as visibly started when she passed under the ominous statue of Sarpedon Tarpiea, Uranus' last and most tyrannical emperor.
His eyes though carved an empty seemed to be staring down distinctly upon her with an air of ethnocentric distaste. She was in the distinct majority here and she knew it. With every person who passed them along the road, from the dusty traders pulling their newly emptied caravans along or the guards on horseback patrolling up and down the sides, she looked them in the eye and immediately felt the air of racial superiority they radiated. It was in that moment that she knew she was nothing here, could be nothing here. They would attempt to take away everything that she was, her heritage, her culture, her language, her identity as a unique individual and make her as near a creature to them as they dared.
As she was yanked along by her captors, she looked down at her hands, unfold them before her eyes so she could see the dust which had gathered in the lines and drying cuts of her palms. How could they? How could one person rob another of whom and what they were? Was it truly possible? How could the unique set of experience who made you, you be erased so you would have to start all over again? No, it was not possible. Only the gods had that sort of power over another person. Who you are is who you are and nothing or no one can take that away from you. Entarais was certain. She would continue to exist, she would have to.
Entarais stumbled into an awkward sidestep as she was yanked unceremoniously sideways off of the main road and skirting onto the dirt sidelines where a horseman had to pull up short before he ran her over. Before she could even move, the mounted spearman reined up and spit on her.
"Stupid rabble!" He seethed down at her, her eyes nervously watching his hand readjust its grip on the spear. "Move!"
And without waiting for her movement, he spurred his horse forward and it knocked her in the shoulder, almost causing her to fall as she stumbled sideways again. Even as she wiped the spit from her cheek, she thought that not being run over outright was the most generous courtesy she had received in her visit to the dusty planet so far.
The head man who had dragged her to the side of the road had pulled his horse off to the side as well and dismounted along with all of her captors. Still holding the rope tied to her, he pulled her back up to her feet and Entarais came along grudgingly.
"Come! The slave market is not far from here. That is where we will see just how much you are worth, my little Neptunian."
The slave market was basically a triad of rectangular tents which were open on all sides and only really kept the merciless rays of the Uranian sun off of the backs of those who came to purchase the slaves at auction. There were various sections of people from all different planets, from all different races and walks of life. They were separated into groups of men, women, and children which gave the general spectator or citizen shopper the guidelines for division of labor.
The head man pulled Entarais along to the child's section and instead of putting Entarais with the girls, he tied her to the rope at the end of the line of boys. When she looked over at him in confusion, he raised his hand as if to slap her should she have a mind to tell anyone the truth about her and she kept quiet.
There was an auction block at the center of the tents which was not covered by a tarp. Every few minutes, a slave or a pair of them were led upon the block and presented to the waiting crowd of Uranians who jeered in obvious appraisal or dejection of the stock offered to them.
Entarais cringed as she heard the crowd cheer as blond haired child, possibly a Venian, was sold as a house slave to a rich warrior's wife. Next a tall burly man with long belt-like scars across his back was brought to the block and the crowd of onlookers and prospective buyers cheered their loudest yet.
One of the other men of the party who had brought Entarais, nudged her in the ribs with his elbow.
"Look sharp!" His voice came as a harsh and smelly whisper in her ear. "They've got a buyer for you."
Entarais opened her eyes wide in disbelief as she noticed the head man, who had disappeared for a short time come back with a tall armored man. His hair was sandy blond like that of all of the Uranians of the north and his frame was thickly muscled and bulky beneath his boxy bronze armor. The matching bronze helmet tucked under his arm war ornamentally carved and had a spouting crest of horse hair on the top that had been dyed a dark shade of blue. His face, in addition to being covered in a thin sheen of sweat due to the ever constant Uranian heat, also sported a spiky forest of
lackadaisically managed stubble. Peaking out from this ensemble were two almond shaped light blue-green eyes.
Another of the slave masters, noticing the positioning of the navy blue cloak about the man's shoulders and the styling of his armor was able to recognize him.
"It's Adeodatus, King Bastion's most respected general."
Entarais stared back at the man with an uncalculated sense of awe mixed with the overwhelming feeling of true fear.
The head man was speaking now, "I have one you might like, sir. He's over here."
Entarais swallowed as the imposing man was led to stand directly in front of her, scrutinizing her.
He nodded a few times appraisingly, noticing the supple olive hue of her skin and also her lanky tall build which suggested long hours spent out running in the sun. Then he reached out both hands, using one to lift her chin and another to open her mouth to look at her teeth.
Finally, after letting go of her mouth the man stepped back and turned to the head man who was rubbing his hands together nervously.
"Hm, good teeth. He'll do." Adeodatus asked eying the shorter man suspiciously. "How much do you want for him?"
"100 pieces."
"Hm…that's a little steep, but his clothes are well made. Do you know what sort of family he came from before being captured?"
"Yes, sir. The man who passed him over to me at Alteran told me he was found with on the battlefield beside the Prince of Cassis and he believed him to be of that noble house." The head man lied with a smile.
Adeodatus grunted, unimpressed. The house of Cassis was a Neptunian one and nothing of their twin planet was held in high esteem on Uranus, least of all members of their democratic nobility.
"What is his age?" The general asked pacing a few short steps away.
"11." The head man lied again.
Adeodatus nodded contemplatively, but was not entirely convinced enough to make the sale yet. "100 pieces still seems to be a little much compared with his history."
The head man paled and quickly moved in to try and brace the rocky foundation of the deal. "90 pieces, then, but no less sir, I have a family in the Imperial City to feed."
"Done." Adeodatus said and the two clasped hands to finalize the deal. "See my man, Persis, he will see that you get paid, then have him finished and brought to my house by sun down."
The head man bowed lowly and crossed his right arm over his chest respectfully in the Uranian fashion as the general mounted a black horse that his servant, Persis, had walked over behind him as he was talking. Only glancing back to give Entarais a second look, he rode off in the direction leading further into the city and farther away from the slave market.
It was all over. The Neptunian light had gone out to be replaced by the shadow of a Uranian one. And just like that, Entarais of Neptune belonged to Uranus now.
Author's Note:
The Eagle
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)-
To Be Continued….