"Let us speak of the terrible beauty of becoming ourselves." -XX: Hive - Verse 3:0


Meren had left Petra and Variks with the ship, and had gone back to her room alone. No one had come trailing after, no one gave her a second glance. It felt liberating to pass through the halls without a shadow following in her footsteps.

With nothing off limits Meren could have returned to the Dreaming City - shared her success with the Queen. But Meren had had quite enough of Awoken hospitality for one lifetime already. With the newfound freedom Petra had granted her, she went off to do the wildest thing she could think of. Meren headed to Outer Orbit for a drink.

Passing under the flickering neon sign and into the dingy club, she was greeted by the usual gaggle of Guardians. Meren pushed her way through the crowds to find an unoccupied seat at the bar. She was only halfway into her first celebratory drink when Cayde, loud as ever, found her.

He was still out here in the Reef - rounding up the last of the Wolves, collecting on the Queen's ransoms. Doubtless, Zavala wouldn't be too happy about it, but that was Cayde's problem. Not hers.

The Exo took a seat next to her and, for once, Meren wasn't annoyed to see him. Even when he prattled on, it felt good to hear about the City, the Vanguard. About home. The conversation inevitably turned to Eliksni (Meren's fault) and Cayde was happy to humor her, even then.

He told her stories of his Wolf hunt and though they were stories of Eliksni demise, Meren listened attentively. She had tales of her own now that rivaled his, but Meren couldn't exactly share any of them. Everything that had happened over the past weeks with the Spider, the Queen, and Variks was her little secret. It had to be.

When he inquired about what she'd been up to, Meren brushed off his questions. Thankfully, Cayde didn't pry. He just went on about Hunters, talking enough for the both of them, and that suited Meren just fine.

After a couple of drinks, Meren felt pleasantly relaxed and bid Cayde a good night before heading back to her room to fall into her bed alone. The Spider and the Awoken were forgotten - the day's worries melted away - as she drifted into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

On the next cycle, she woke and checked the holo feed. Determined to relax and spend the morning thinking about pleasant things, she sipped at her coffee as the news drawled on in the background. But as she sat there in thought, Meren found it wasn't the Academy or the City on her mind. Not Hiro or Cayde or even her students. It was someone else, completely unexpected.

Variks.

Meren sat there as her coffee cooled, slightly annoyed that she couldn't tear her mind away from the scribe - that he had managed to get so quickly under her skin. She mulled over the guidance he had freely offered her. His parting sentiment. That unexpected bow. Though the two of them had gotten off to a rocky start, they seemed to have managed to move on from past impropriety. Maybe things would be different now.

Meren rubbed her temples at the prospect of returning to the wretched Prison. Though if she wanted to see Variks, there was no other choice. Would she be intruding on him, showing up uninvited? Probably. But it had been by Variks' own admission that they had much to discuss. And he still owed her an explanation about that Servitor and he had made a promise to tell her more about his people.

Why was she even sitting here trying to justify this? She really had nowhere else to go, and the Eliksni were the whole reason she was here. Before she could overthink things any further, Meren dressed herself quickly and was out the door - her coffee left unfinished. Forgotten.

Meren made her way back to the Prison for the seventh time. Ninth? How many times has she come this way already? She had lost count. Across the sprawling bridge, past the throngs of Guardians, Meren continued through the Prison's gaping maw and set herself into the maze of passages beyond.

Despite the alien cries that echoed off the walls, Meren walked with a purpose. This place didn't scare her nearly as much as it used to as she headed for the control room in search of the Warden. But as she lost herself in the labyrinthine corridors, she didn't have long to look. Meren turned one last corner in the darkness before Variks found her.

As soon as the scribe caught sight of Meren, he forgot his stooping posture and straightened up to his full height. The Eliksni tilted his head as Meren slowed to a stop and his outer eyes fell closed.

"There you are," Variks purred.

Even though she had come uninvited, the Eliksni looked pleased to see her. That's a first. Or maybe that wasn't it. What she saw in his eyes wasn't quite happiness, on second thought. It was more like acceptance. He had merely resigned himself to the fact that Meren was wont to tag along after him for the duration of her stay.

Variks extended his lower hands, palms out. "Glad to see you."

Happiness it is, Meren corrected herself with a smile. It was a pleasant surprise, but she couldn't help but be the tiniest bit wary of the scribe's cheerful demeanor.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Meren noted dubiously. "What's going on?"

Variks slowly withdrew his hands - his gesture of goodwill - and snorted. "Nothing is 'going on'. I save you from Spider and you repay me with this...distrust."

"No. I didn't mean to..." she sighed, defeated. He didn't deserve her suspicion. Not anymore.

The Eliksni crossed his lower arms loosely across his chest. "We have made amends, yes? No more tricks. That is behind us."

Meren rubbed a hand over her face, determined to make it right. "Let me start over."

Variks kept his arms crossed, his mandibles clicking slightly.

She offered him an apologetic smile and tried again, "I'm happy to see you too, Variks."

"Much better." The Eliksni visibly relaxed before he gestured her forward and they made their way down the corridor. "Now. Tell me of your errand - of Spider."

Meren walked alongside the scribe as she relayed the pertinent details of her misadventure: Petra showing up with an entire contingent of Corsairs, managing to convince them all to wait with the ship, going to the Spider alone, and enduring his wrath.

Variks was a good listener and did so intently. As Meren continued, she was careful to omit the part where the Spider's claws were around her neck and how she ended up on her knees. The Judgement scribe didn't need to know that bit, of course.

The rest of the story came easily. Meren had offered the Spider the Queen's bargain, and he had accepted the offer without incident. In the end, she had sealed the deal in a manner befitting the Eliksni. Just as Variks had told her. Her errand had been a success. Simple as that.

Pleased with herself, Meren looked to the scribe for approval. Variks' eyes shared none of her enthusiasm. He stared at her for a long moment, searching for any hint of deception. Meren gave none. She simply held his gaze and offered him her most disarming smile.

Variks came up empty and finally asked. "That is all?"

Meren stuck by her half-truth. "I'm unharmed, aren't I? I followed your instructions, and it went just as you said."

"Then you did well," he purred, finally relenting. "I expected no less."

"You're overlooking the part you played in all of this. I wouldn't have succeeded without your guidance." Meren reached out and gently touched his lower forearm as a gesture of gratitude. "I never got a chance to thank you properly. If there's any way I can repay the favor…"

Variks glanced at her hand and replied with a purr. "There is no need. It was my pleasure, Meren. I would gladly offer my counsel again, should you ever have need of it."

"I just might."

Variks' eyes followed her hand, his chest rising and falling with an almost imperceptible sigh as she slowly withdrew her touch. It was such a small thing, but it didn't go unnoticed as Meren's let her hand fall limply to her side.

The Eliksni composed himself after the momentary lapse as if nothing had ever been amiss, and quickened his pace. "Come along. Many things for us to talk about."

Meren didn't have time to dwell on his peculiar response as they reached one of the Prison's many lifts, a different one than they had taken before. Variks entered the passcode and as the gears squealed to life he found her side.

"You are so eager to learn, I expected you to return to me sooner."

Meren glanced up at the Eliksni. "I would have, but I went out to celebrate. With friends. After that whole mess with the Spider, I think I deserved it."

"You did," he admitted, "but surely you could find better company than the Cayde-6."

More amused than annoyed, Meren's eyebrows rose slightly. The scribe always seemed to know too much. "Are you keeping tabs on me, Variks?"

He gave her a sly look. "I would presume to do no such thing."

"No? I thought we were being honest with each other." She felt the slightest stab of guilt over her own hypocrisy. "Or so you said."

"Am I to blame if the Crows happen to pass along the information?" he countered innocently.

"That depends…"

"On what?"

"Who sent the Crows to watch me in the first place."

Variks chuckled. "You think they take orders from me?"

"No." The Queen or maybe Prince Uldren was surely to blame for that. "But that didn't stop you from sticking your nose in my business."

"Were you here, I would not have to," he said dismissively.

"Careful." Meren grinned. "You're making it sound like you missed me."

A blink crossed all four of his eyes in a slow wave, claws tightening around his staff. Meren waited for him to deny it. To say anything. But as the lift came conveniently to a stop, the semicircle doors slid open and Variks was saved from having to provide any further comment.

Meren followed after him as he strode into the adjoining chamber. Though, at first glance, the room appeared to be some sort of airlock, there was no hiss of atmospheric equilibration as the door closed behind them. It was only a moment before the hatch before them opened and brilliant sunlight came streaming in.

Meren squinted as she stepped out through the doorway and into the arena beyond. Going on ahead, Variks made a grand gesture of spreading all four of his arms, inviting her to take in the space.

Tatters of wreckage and shrapnel were strewn about the space in an unsettling recreation of the wastelands of Earth. As she strolled out onto the pitch after Variks, the arena floor was soft under her feet, the ground covered in real stones and dirt. No detail forgotten, patches of withered brown grass sprouted here and there, barely clinging to life.

It was the plants that lifted her soul. Meren hadn't seen grass in so long, and, for a moment, it almost felt like she was back home. The feeling died as her eyes trailed upward to where the endless blue sky should have been. Instead of billowing white clouds - a radiant sun - the only thing Meren saw was the darkened purple hue of the Reef beyond. This wasn't home at all.

"Looks like Earth, if that's what you were intending," she offered, careful to keep the disappointment from her voice.

"Guardians fight more fiercely when they are reminded of home." Variks said, nonchalant.

Meren hummed. "I suppose it gives them a sense of ownership."

"Perhaps."

Meren drank in the artificial sunlight for only a moment longer. She appreciated Variks' attempts to show her the entirety of the Prison, but the arena was making her homesick and Meren had no desire to prolong their stay.

"So, are we here to test our luck in the arena, Variks?" she jested, "I'm ready if you are."

Variks tilted his head. "Perhaps you would like to dismantle mines, yess?"

Meren had no idea what he was talking about and stared back at him in consternation.

"A joke." Variks waved a hand dismissively before continuing. "We are not fighting anything, Meren. Neither of us is cut out for such nonsense. This is simply the fastest way to where we are going. A shortcut as you might say."

Some shortcut. It wasn't going to save any time if they just stood here trading jests. Meren took the lead and made for the exit, another set of halfmoon doors, on the far side of the arena. Through the tangle of debris, Meren wove her way across the pitch, passing through a truncated conduit of wreckage along the way.

Variks, her shadow, followed. With little trouble, Meren made it safely to the other side before turning to see what was keeping the scribe. Variks was nearly too big for the narrow passage, and was forced to duck halfway through after his helmet collided with the twisted metal overhead. The staff he insisted on carrying did little to help matters. Variks contorted himself uncomfortably, growling all the way, as he attempted to squeeze his way forward.

It would have been sensible for Variks to simply remove the whole helmet - lose the staff. That would have been a much better alternative to getting himself stuck in there. But Meren knew that making a suggestion like that would have been disrespect of the highest order, and would have only served to upset him. So she recommended the next best thing.

"You should have gone around," Meren offered unhelpfully as Variks barely managed to extricate himself from the conduit, headpiece and staff still intact.

"Know that now," he grumbled.

Finally free, Variks shook himself out before straightening up and smoothing at his tattered robes with his lower hands. It was a vain gesture - out of place for someone who habitually wore rags.

An unexpected stab of pity caught Meren off-guard as she watched him fussing over himself. "Are you all right?"

Variks bobbed his head in affirmation as Meren shrugged off the pity she felt for him. His choice in clothing is by his own design, she reminded herself, not some great misfortune. She had let herself fall victim to his little ruse once before. It wouldn't happen twice.

"Never taking direction from you again," he grumbled as he finally pulled himself together. Though he sounded annoyed, a flash of amusement crossed his eyes.

Meren smirked. "Next time I'll let you take the lead."

And he did. Variks was careful to avoid any additional detours through the wreckage as they left the deserted earthbound arena behind.

Only when they had reached the exit, did Meren take one last glance over her shoulder and wonder, "Where are all the Guardians?"

"They test their strength elsewhere today."

"What do you mean?"

"The Prison has other arenas for them to play in," he clarified, "This one is off limits. For now."

"Why?"

"So many questions…" he purred, eyes glittering at her.

"Why?" Meren repeated.

Variks rolled his neck languidly, making her wait a moment for his reply. "I have alternate plans that do not concern Guardians."

That piqued Meren's interest, but Variks didn't give her a chance to ask what his cryptic response meant.

"But you will see later. First, other chores." He dug into his robes, pulling free the curious piece of Eliksni tech she had seen him use once to pair with his peculiar Servitor.

When Variks offered it to her, Meren took it, fingers closing around the cool, metal object before turning it over twice in her palm. It had a couple of unmarked buttons, and little more. The intended user would know what they were for, and that wasn't exactly Meren. Up until now.

She twisted it slightly as she had seen Variks do once before. Meren immediately regretted her decision as the scribe's arm shot out, claws closing around her hand.

"Not. Yet." Variks hissed, deadly serious. "Do you see a Servitor, Meren? Do you want to get us both killed?!"

Meren stared at him in horror and nearly let the device fall from her grasp. What had she done? For a beat Variks let her believe something terrible was about to happen. But then he dropped his hand, chittering to himself, laughing at her.

"So very gullible," he chided.

The scribe was in rare form today, making jokes at her expense. It might have been funny to him, but Meren wasn't amused. Her shoulders slumped at being made to look foolish and a harsher insult than she intended tumbled out of her mouth.

"You're an asshole."

Variks clicked back in response. "Such language."

"You've heard worse, I'm sure," she muttered, immediately regretting her outburst.

"Eliksni curses are far more...eloquent." He narrowed all of his eyes. "Perhaps you would care to hear some."

"That's...quite alright."

"Another time, then," he said dismissively. Despite her insult, a flicker of amusement crossed his eyes. He wasn't truly mad.

Not even Meren's ill-mannered outburst seemed to quash the scribe's good mood. The malfeasance seemed all but forgotten as he led her on until they reached the Prison's central spire.

There at the security hub hanging above the void, Variks' all-wrong Servitor hung motionless, waiting for them. Meren crossed the narrow catwalk with the scribe, careful not to look down, unable to shake the feeling that the machine was watching her every step. Once they reached the platform, Variks approached the machine, looking it once over before turning to Meren.

"You remember the last time we were here, yes?" He tilted his head.

She nodded. They had been here once before to update the Servitor. Or something like that.

"Now, use the…" he searched for the translation he had used before, "'neural sync'...to interface with the Servitor."

With his blessing this time, she twisted the Eliksni device in her hands. For a moment, as nothing happened, Meren wondered what she had done wrong. Variks offered no guidance and she adjusted the thing a little more before the Servitor's central sensor began to blink in response.

"Intuitive, yes?" Variks noted.

Meren watched the machine flickering there before them. "I... don't even understand what it's doing. Or how it works."

Variks regarded her for a second, weighing his choice of words. "You know much about Eliksni. The way of our Houses. Archon protects the Prime, Prime guides the House, House order maintained by the Kell. These partnerships are complicated...but necessary."

The complexities of the triumvirate leadership of Eliksni Houses weren't lost on Meren. There was a delicate balance of power between Servitor, Archon, and Kell, and in the absence of one, a House was liable to fall into chaos. But she wasn't sure what any of that had to do with this.

Variks wasn't finished, however. "Most complex is the bond between Archon and Prime. It is more of an understanding. Something like...what is your word…"

Meren knew just enough about Archons and their Servitors to realize what he was getting at. "Symbiosis."

The scribe nodded slowly. "A neural sync like the one you are holding allows Archons to interface with their Prime. Access the central core. Make changes, if needed. Learn from the Prime in return."

Meren looked down at the piece of Eliksni tech in her hands. Is that what Variks was doing? Playing Archon?

A note of pride crept into his voice as he continued. "The one you have is modified. As is the Servitor. By me. I have made adjustments to programming, and replaced the machine's core consciousness."

"With what?"

His eyes glittered with delight. "My own."

She stared at him with a mix of respect and wonder and disbelief. But as impossible as it seemed, what he was telling her was true. Meren had been right before: the Servitor was Variks. Sort of.

"My current modifications are...not ideal." Variks drawled on. "The implanted consciousness has proven to be quite unstable. Degrades more quickly than I had anticipated. It is a work unfinished. But I will make improvements. In time…"

As he rambled on, Meren's mouth fell open in amazement. He made it sound like all this was positively mundane, nothing out of the ordinary. But to her, it was the furthest thing from.

"...until then, Servitor needs routine updates. For concurrence. To ensure it functions as intended." Variks finally concluded.

"It's… extraordinary." All the awe she felt was reflected in her voice. The machine was exceptional, Variks was exceptional. "Where did you learn all this?"

Variks faltered for a second before replying quietly, "From an Archon."

Meren looked from the machine, to Variks, and back. She didn't need to ask why he had done all this - she already knew. "So if the Servitor is you, it's able to run the whole Prison on its own. Without your help."

"Correct." Variks affirmed with a slight nod. "That was my intent. The Servitor oversees everyday operations so I spend less time trifling with Guardians. Leaves me more time for other projects ."

"Like playing Priest on the side?" Meren jested with a smile.

He chuckled. "No, Meren. I do not pretend to be an Archon. I am merely a scribe."

The humble admission did nothing to lessen his standing in Meren's eyes. Variks was the most remarkable Eliksni she had ever met, doubtful there were many more like him, and she meant to tell him so.

"Now, finish the pairing sequence." Variks instructed, pulling Meren from her reverie. "We would not want the Servitor to go mad."

The last time, she had thought he was joking. But now Meren fully believed him, and was quick to twist the device back to its original settings. When the Servitor continued to flash, Variks' claws closed over her hand, manipulating the neural sync himself to put an end to the process. No sooner had the blinking stopped, than the machine inched slowly towards them.

"Meren," the Warden Servitor purred in Variks' voice.

The scribe shot the machine a dirty look as he removed the piece of Eliksni tech from Meren's hand before burying it once again in his robes. With an abrupt wave of his claw, Variks shooed the Servitor before it had the chance to speak again. It sunk slightly, managing to look somehow dejected, before obediently retreating from the security hub, back into the depths of the Prison.

"I still don't fully understand how it works," Meren admitted, breaking the silence.

Variks folded his lower hands slowly and looked over at her. "I did not expect you to. Eliksni technology is more complex - different from that of humans'. It must seem very strange to you. But I do not think you less, Meren, for your lack of understanding. You are doing your best to learn."

"I'm trying."

Variks hummed, twisting his staff idly in his hands. "If it would help, I can provide technical specifications, a breakdown of the Servitor's mechanics, for you to read later. At your leisure."

It was an exceedingly generous offer, and Meren perked up at the prospect of getting her hands on detailed schematics of the alien machine. "I would appreciate that."

Variks inclined his head slightly, acknowledging her polite acceptance. Meren smiled back at him. He was being more forthcoming than usual today, perhaps, in part, due to his good mood. If that was the case, Meren was determined to do everything in her power to ensure it lasted for the rest of the day.

Their chore with the Servitor finished, Variks and Meren left the security hub and the central spire behind. As they strolled through the dimly-lit corridors, they talked about Ketches and Kells for a time before the topic turned somehow to Guardians. Their mutual disdain for the Traveler's chosen made the conversation suddenly effortless, and the two of them prattled on like old friends over just how irritating the Lightbearers could be.

They didn't see eye-to-eye, of course. Variks found them rude and haughty, always saying the wrong things. Guardians had no idea how to properly conduct themselves around an Eliksni. No surprise there. Some couldn't even manage to behave appropriately by human standards.

From Meren's perspective, she thought them egocentric and vapid. She could count on one hand the number of stimulating conversations she'd had with Lightbearers over the years. All they ever wanted to talk about were guns and glimmer. In the end, Meren and Variks both agreed that, despite Guardians' shortcomings, they had their uses, and left the conversation at that.

No sooner had they wrapped up their discussion, than they reached Variks' intended destination. It had taken a lot longer than Meren anticipated to reach the Prison's central control room. As the doors snapped open and Meren followed her host inside, she glanced at the massive viewport overlooking the arena - where they had just been - and then to Variks. Meren raised her eyebrows. It definitely shouldn't have taken that long to get here.

Variks blinked innocently back at her. The Eliksni had known a shortcut earlier, and there was no way he would ever get lost in the Prison. As he wandered off across the room, Meren privately suspected he had taken them out of the way on purpose. But she found that she hadn't minded the detour. Their conversation had been enjoyable and she wouldn't have been opposed to wandering around with him for a little bit longer.

Variks acted as if nothing was amiss, retrieving his datapad from the where it sat on the control room's main console. Pawing at the screen, he set to work configuring the device to allow access to the promised data. It took hardly a minute for him to finish the modifications before holding it out to Meren.

She reached to take it. "Thank yo-"

Just as her fingers were about to close around the datapad, Variks pulled it back slightly, just out of reach.

"Can you be trusted this time? No snooping, yes?" He teased.

"There's no point in trying." She stretched and snatched the thing from his hand. "I won't be able to see anything you don't want me to."

Variks gave her a sly look. "Perhaps I gave you unrestricted access. To test you."

"I doubt that," Meren muttered.

The Eliksni shrugged dismissively before turning to cross the room to the console on the far side. Sinking into a chair before the dozen or so monitors, Variks set about manipulating the feeds in silence, as if Meren wasn't even there.

With Variks apparently preoccupied, Meren couldn't help herself. She palmed the datapad's screen to bring it to life in her hands. When the display redirected to the main interface, it was just like before - dozens of access points to prison rosters, schedules, encrypted channels, and other private data. Meren was just going to poke around - it wasn't technically snooping - to see if the Servitor data was there.

She didn't make it any further than the main interface before Variks snapped, "Stop that."

He hadn't even turned to see what Meren was doing. Was she really so predictable? Obediently, she killed the display just before Variks looked over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed.

"Come here," he purred.

Meren sheepishly crossed the room, datapad clutched tightly in her grasp, and went to his side.

Variks gave her a withering look as he plucked it out of her hands, setting it down on the console just out of reach. "Said you could read later. Not now."

"I wasn't reading, I was just…" Meren let her words trail off.

He drummed his claws on the arm of the chair. "Just what?"

"...snooping."

Variks let out a long suffering sigh. "If you are going to be so...disobedient, I will send you home." He sounded like he was only half joking.

"I'm not leaving."

Variks regarded her for a moment before his mask moved slightly as he splayed his mandibles beneath it, grinning. "Then have a seat."

She did as commanded, lowering herself gingerly into the chair beside him. The monitors before them were awash with the usual collage of information: live feeds from the cellblocks, security system readouts, and real time statistics from the arenas.

As Variks' hands danced effortlessly over the controls, one screen changed at a time until the entire array was lit up with rosters of Prison inmates. None of them were in English, every last name was spelled out in the geometric glyphs of the Eliksni alphabet.

Veliniks.

Drevis.

Praksis.

Akniks.

Berixas.

Varjis.

Drekthas.

The list cascaded down the screen, seemingly endless.

Variks turned in his chair to face her. "Do you know what this is?"

"A list of all the Prison's Eliksni inmates?"

Variks touched one of the displays, and the layout changed again. The names scrambled across the screens, pairing up in orderly rows. Times and dates populated above each set of names, sorting them by days and weeks and months. Variks' hand slid across the console, and the scores of names dimmed. All but two.

"And this?" he purred.

"Berixas and Pirik." Meren read the remaining, illuminated names. None of this was making any sense. "I don't know what-"

"Of course not." The scribe touched the monitor one last time and the names faded away, replaced by a single line of script.

/Arena 2. Initiating subroutine: Judgement/

She barely had time to read that last word before a deep rumble came from somewhere below. The scribe gave a sideways glance as Meren swiveled in her chair to face the massive arena viewport.

"What are you doing, Variks?"

He pushed himself out of his chair and looked down on her, eyes glittering. "Teaching you about Eliksni. About Judgement."

Rising slowly, Meren got to her feet as another mechanical groan came from the direction of the viewport. Variks put his staff to her back, guiding her across the room until they stood together, overlooking the arena.

Down on the field of battle, two circular hatches had opened and a set of pods had been conveyed to the surface. One hatch had barely hissed open before a snarling Eliksni burst forth onto the pitch. Swathed in a crimson cloak, the Devil Captain shot a look up at the control room window before turning her attention back to the other pod.

Long strides conveyed her across the rough terrain as the other cell swung open and a second Eliksni emerged. He clawed his way out, eyes blazing as he stood to his full height. The Devil slowed to a stop at the sight of the other Captain and snarled something unintelligible. Biting back a laugh, the other Eliksni gave a mocking bow before reaching for a blade at his side.

Meren's heart skipped a beat. Surely they weren't going to fight; Variks wouldn't let them. But beside her, the scribe stared down at the Eliksni in the arena, his gaze impassive, cold. As the Captains circled each other, growling, Variks made no move to intervene.

Meren stood there in silent mortification before the scribe gestured to the spectacle below and spoke, emotionless. "Berixas, Wolf Captain - slaughtered more than a few Awoken children during the Reef Wars. And, Pirik, the Disgraced - killed every last Dreg under her command, unprovoked. Both are terrible crimes in Eliksni eyes, and...now they face judgement."

Pirik made the first move, surging forward with her own pike to clash with the other Captain in the middle of the field. Meren did her best to stand there perfectly still, like Variks at her side.

Though the scribe attentively watched the squabble, one eye was fixed on Meren as he continued, "Before we journeyed to your star, House Judgement kept the peace. But when words failed to settle disputes - reason failed - we resorted to other methods. Honor duels or...trial by combat, you might have called it. That was the way of things."

Meren gestured as calmly as she could to the viewport where the Eliksni in the arena lunged and each other's throats. "But that's not what this is. You didn't send them out there to settle some dispute. You said-"

"You did not let me finish," Variks cut in, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

Meren shut her mouth and kept her eyes on Pirik as the Devil threw Berixas to the ground.

"Where was I…." Variks grumbled before remembering his place, "On Riis, though we had peace, there were still lawbreakers. Criminals. It was the duty of the Kells to see to their… discipline. But after the Whirlwind ripped my people apart, the scribes were lost. And the Kells failed. I could go on, but...you know the rest. You see what Eliksni have become."

Divided and lawless, the Fallen had spread through the Sol system like a cancer, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake. It had been that way for centuries, now, with the state of things rapidly deteriorating by the year. The Wolf Rebellion was only the latest chapter in the Eliksni's slow and painful extinction.

Variks tapped his staff gently against the viewport, "As you can see, I have had to take some liberties with the old ways. Made some changes to maintain order, in light of the...current situation."

As Variks' twisted notion of judgement played out before them, Meren glanced at the scribe. "So you've taken it upon yourself to dole out punishment."

"Judgement," he corrected. "I take no pleasure in seeing Eliksni at each other's throats. But, this is how it must be. For now."

As much as she hated it, Meren knew he was right. Variks had tried using words with Skolas once, and look how that ended for him. The Fallen weren't going to listen to reason - especially not from a traitor. They only had respect for brutality and strength, and Variks was giving them just that.

She mulled over Variks' words, doing her best to stand there and watch the rest of the fight, impassive, like the scribe. But as Berixas' blade found its way through a chink in the Devil Captain's armor, Meren's composure faltered. Blood blossomed on Pirik's chest and every muscle in Meren's body tensed, her fingers curling slowly into fists, nails biting into her palms.

Variks' head snapped in her direction, and he let out the softest chirr. The scribe's hand was at Meren's side then, gently guiding her away from the viewport.

"Merenn," his voice sounded almost tender, "I did not mean for this to upset you. If you find it troubling, do not watch."

"I'm fine," Meren lied. "I've seen worse things."

Variks tilted his head as Meren shook off his hand and turned back to the arena. As brutal as Variks' judgement was, she truly had seen worse. Nothing quite compared to watching Eliksni wither away, starved of Ether, under the Tower.

Berixas' found a second gap in Pirik's armor and drove his blade home. Staggering from the blow, the Devil Captain finally slumped to the ground in defeat. Pirik knelt there motionless for a heartbeat before Berixas' foot was on her neck, slamming her head to the ground.

The sight gave Meren pause. That should have been her, kneeling before the Spider. He could have ripped her to pieces - broken her neck - but he hadn't. The Baron didn't strike Meren as being particularly frightened of Variks, but somehow the ever-present threat of judgement had stayed his hand. Probably saved her life.

It made her wonder. "Is this the sort of judgement that would have awaited the Spider? Had he hurt me?"

"No," Variks replied calmly. Yet, a cast of anger filled his eyes and his voice grew low as he continued. "Had Spider hurt you...I would have ripped him apart myself."

Her eyes widened. In that moment, Meren feared him. Surely he wouldn't. She had never envisioned Variks as being personally capable of violence, but the rabid look in his eyes told her otherwise. "Have you ever-?"

"No," he said quickly. "But I would make an exception…"

"...for the Spider," Meren tried to finish his thought.

"For you."

What? Meren met his glowing gaze for too long before uttering one breathless word. "Why?"

Variks squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them a moment later, his voice was a forced chirp. "Because we are friends, yes?"

"Uh huh." That hardly sounded plausible and Meren regarded him skeptically. "You have a lot of those, according to the Guardians. Would you make the same exception for them?"

"That is...different," Variks countered, defensive.

"How so?"

The Eliksni snorted. "I flatter the Guardians by calling them 'friend'. They do me favors, and I reward them in return. They are useful allies. Nothing more."

"So what you're suggesting is you'd do that because we're real friends."

"Yes."

Meren scoffed slightly. If asked, she would have gladly called him her friend. But the scribe had never given any indication that he felt the same. "And what makes you think that?"

"You have said that you enjoy my company." He growled slightly, pausing. "And...I admit, I am fond of yours as well."

Finally. Meren's eyebrows rose. "So you do like being around me."

Variks nodded ever so slowly, fidgeting with his lower hands. It was only a second before he caught himself and abruptly interlaced his fingers.

"Then I suppose that does make us friends."

"As I said," the Eliksni purred.

"As you said…" she echoed.

Meren could have laughed at the absurdity of it all - the two of them bickering over the particulars of friendship while a bloodbath unfolded before them. But it was hardly funny. Down in the arena, Pirik lay dead on the earthen soil and Berixas was nowhere to be seen.

Neither Variks nor Meren spoke for a long time as they stood together before the viewport, staring down at Pirik's now lifeless body. As her blood pooled slowly outward, it reminded Meren of Brelor, in a way, laying senselessly dead in the Tower. Honorless and forgotten.

A knot twisted slowly in her stomach at the unhappy memory, coiling tighter as her mind continued to wander back to the Eliksni beside her. A newly-forged friendship wasn't a satisfactory explanation for what Variks had planned to do to the Spider. They either had radically different ideas of what constituted a friendship, or there was more to all of this than Variks was letting on.


AN: Thank you to Keltoi for the edits. Check out their fic Winter if you can't get enough of the Eliksni!