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Sotrah Zian stepped out of the consil building, stopping briefly to look up at the triple suns of the planet Korritorjim that was home to the nervin Das tribe. He was nearly head and shoulders taller than the warriors around him making up the oj’lafteh or his elite guard. As ojin of the Das tribe, they would protect him with their lives.
Sighing softly as he thought back to the earlier meeting he had with the oj of the twelve clans, Sotrah found himself feeling unsettled. And he didn’t like to feel that way. There was something about that crying Xai runt that drove him insane.
Why hadn’t I just killed it? Sotrah wondered to himself as he placed his full-face helmet on his head, blocking out the glaring suns. Why spare it? Aresh or not, a Xai has no place amongst my people.
Sotrah began to walk purposefully through the city centre of Korritorjim’s capital Kaem, half-cape waving slightly in the breeze, the sound of synchronized boot steps sounding around him as his guard followed. Where he went, they would also go.
It wasn’t a long walk through the streets before Sotrah came to a small building. He stopped walking, looking up at it for a moment before stepping up to the door. He reached for the control panel when it slid open on its own. The inside was dark, a light at the end of a long hall beckoning him.
“Wait here.” Sotrah ordered, stepping out of the stifling heat into the cold exterior of the building. His helmet’s HUD went off, warning him about the drastic change in temperatures, but he ignored it, the insolation suit under his armour enough to keep the cold at bay, though he still felt a slight chill.
Walking down the hall, Sotrah moved with patient purpose. His strides were long and even, his movement almost predatory. He reached the end of the hall and the door opened for him, revealing a small room. Crystals and herbs were scattered about, the air smoky with some sort of sweet scent that Sotrah could smell even through his helmet’s filters.
“For what reason does the ojin of the Das seek me out?”
Sotrah turned his head slightly to a dark corner of the room where a shrouded figure sat, two golden orbs glowing from beneath the heavy cowl, yellow branching out over the shadowed face the only thing the ojin could see. The voice was feminine, but possessed an otherworldly tone to it.
“I seek answers.” Sotrah answered calmly, watching as the figure stood upright. Even at their full height they were shorter than him, but they held an air that would cause goosebumps to creep across the flesh of anyone other than Sotrah.
“For what purpose does the ojin seek my company?” The figure asked as they got up and moved past Sotrah to a nearby table with a strange indent in the middle.
“I want answers about the Xai pup found in the deserts,” Sotrah said as he moved after the seer. “I want to know what its future holds.”
The seer didn’t answer as they reached out a clawed finger lined with glowing yellow blood veins, scratching a strange symbol into the edge of the table. They walked slowly around it, the grating of nails against metal loud in the room as they muttered some incantation under their breath.
Sotrah watched, slitted pupils narrowing slightly as he waited patiently.
“Sit,” the seer ordered, pointing to a chair on the opposite side of the table from where they themselves stood.
Sotrah stood for a moment before walking over to the chair and seating himself upon it, the metal creaking slightly beneath his weight as he did so.
“Almonin, Zetsu, Koninn, Fatsu, Wassan, Yenzu,” the seer spoke the names of the Das gods as they continued scratching symbols into the table, the runes beginning to glow a faint yellow. “Dojii, Saten, Bownin, Kenjo, Vennann.”
The indent in the middle of the table began to pulse as a small yellow orb began to form, spinning slowly at first then faster and faster as time went on.
Sotrah watched, the flicker of golden light reflecting off his armour as the seer began to circle their fingers around the orb, muttering incantations and chants. The orb grew in size and spun faster, an odd sound filling the air.
“Godii, Balkaa, Zii!”
The seer grabbed onto the orb, blinding golden light shining outwards from between their fingers, strands of light travelling up their arms as their eyes shone brightly like the triple suns that hung in the sky outside. When they opened their mouth that too gave off light.
“I see darkness,” the seer’s voice sounded as if it were being echoed by a multitude of others. “There is nothing—an open void—cold.”
Sotrah listened silently, skeptical.
The light faded just as suddenly as it had appeared, the orb fading away to a small flickering light before disintegrating.
“What does it mean?” Sotrah questioned, sitting back in his seat as he rest one guantleted hand on the table, tapping at the surface with the zetis claws. “Does it die?”
“There is nothing,” the seer answered, moving away from the table to gather up a handful of crystal pieces. They walked across the room, placing it in a bowl of some sort. “The gods do not wish to give you an answer.”
Sotrah scoffed. “Then what is the point of you?” He asked, standing. “Ask the gods again.”
“Nobody can just ask the gods for something,” the seer answered, “they require payment. Sacrifice. But you do not have children of your own.”
“I have yet to see evidence of the gods,” Sotrah responded coldly, flexing his armoured fingers. “Or reason for keeping you around.”
“I am but a mirror speaker for those that I worship,” the seer answered, the crystals clinking in the bowl as they turned. “I cannot force them to cater to you.”
Sotrah stepped forwards, reaching out a hand to grab the seer by the throat. He pulled them close, the crystals clattering together at the suddenness of the movement. “I grow weary of your kind.”
The seer was silent, looking up at the ojin from the shadow of their hood. They still held the bowl in their hand, but their body was tense, wary.
“Perhaps the heavens are empty,” Sotrah said as he reached up to remove his helmet, letting it hang from the fingers of his free hand as he leaned in close to the seer’s face, baring his canines threateningly. “Perhaps I should conquer them just as any other wasteland in need of saving.”
“The gods can hear you,” the seer answered, voice quiet. “You wouldn’t dare to defy them.”
Sotrah chuckled darkly as he leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching the side of the seer’s face as he whispered: “wouldn’t I?”
The seer choked faintly when they were suddenly lifted into the air, the bowl falling from their hands to scatter the crystals on the floor with an alarmed rattling. They grabbed at Sotrah’s armoured wrist, clawing frantically as he lifted them off their feet.
“Perhaps the gods do require a sacrifice,” Sotrah stated loudly, squeezing the seer’s throat tightly. “Maybe you will do.”
A sickening crack split the air in two, the seer’s struggles ceasing as their arms dropped down to their sides. They hung limply from his hand, but their eyes were still open and aware.
“Where is their wrath?” Sotrah asked as he dropped the seer to the ground, their head hanging at an odd angle from the way it had been broken. “I hear nothing.”
There was a shuffling sound behind the ojin, Sotrah turning to see three witches standing in the doorway leading into the little room. They cowered beneath his gaze, averting their eyes to the ground as he replaced his helmet on his head and approached them.
“You’ll heal,” Sotrah called over his shoulder to the seer, “but I would still recommend seeing a doctor. I don’t think your gods are going to help you no matter how much you scream at the vacant heavens.”
The witches moved aside as Sotrah walked between them, the tall nervin stopping briefly before half turning towards them. “What of you? Do you have the answers I seek about the Xai pup?”
“We could try,” one of the witches whispered, voice quiet but void of the fear Sotrah could smell. “We would not fail you.”
Sotrah scoffed. “I believe that your gods have failed you . Clean up that mess.” He ordered, walking back down the long hall towards the door that slid open at his approach. He stepped out back into the stifling heat of Korritorjim’s triple suns. He stood for a long moment, the oj’lafteh all standing at attention around him.
“There’s one other person I will see,” Sotrah said, “she will have the answers I seek.”
“Yes sir,” one of the oj’lafteh responded as they fell in step behind the towering ojin.
Walking briefly through the city center, Sotrah came to another building. This one was a little larger in size, but less ominous and cold. It was unbearably normal.
“Ojin,” the door slid open and a nervin youngling dipped their head as they stepped aside, allowing Sotrah to enter the room. “She is waiting for you.”
Sotrah raised a brow at the words, but nonetheless stepped into the building. He followed after the youngling, moving through a multitude of halls before coming to a large room. It was painfully clean, a set of nervin armour on display in one corner. There was a painting of a dune lion within a vast desert.
“Ojin,” a woman’s voice broke the silence, Sotrah turning to watch as another nervin entered into the room from a side door.
“Marii,” Sotrah responded, reaching up to remove his helmet. “I’ve come-”
“You’ve come to seek answers about the suckling,” Marii answered as she turned to look at the youngling that had led Sotrah to the room. “You may go, Varaa.”
Varaa dipped her head before backing out of the room, the door sliding shut behind her.
Sotrah was silent for a long moment as he turned to study the other nervin. Marii was an ancient—a nervin that had lived for more than a thousand years—she had been alive during most of the Thousand Year War that had broken out between the five original nervin tribes, but she looked no older than she had in her prime. There were a few lines here and there, but she was still beautiful and radiant. She had long, dark hair; amber, serpentine eyes; blood veins of the same colour criss-crossed her tan flesh; and pointed ears easily a foot long. Sotrah’s ears were less than half as long, showing the difference between their ages. When she smiled wolf-like canines glinted in the light.
“The gods and witchcraft have failed me,” Sotrah said, breaking the silence that had fallen. “So I’ve come to you—an ancient and a tenu —for answers.”
“I do not even begin to know everything,” Marii answered as she walked over to the nearby window, staring out it for a long moment before continuing. “But I can tell you that that pup is destined for greatness.”
“Greatness?” Sotrah asked, frowning a little. “What kind of greatness?”
“All I know is that he will reach heights not known to our people for centuries,” Marii said as she turned back from the window. “He will be exactly what our people needs.”
“So he will benefit the Das?” Sotrah questioned, raising a brow.
“He will benefit all nervin,” Marii answered, moving to stand directly in front of Sotrah. She had to tilt her face upwards in order to meet his gaze, but there was no fear or trepidation in her stance. She wasn’t afraid of him, and that bothered Sotrah. “You were wise to spare him.”
Sotrah huffed loudly, tilting his head slightly as he leaned downwards, staring at the tenu from behind the visor of his full-face helmet. “Are you perhaps protecting the suckling?” He asked, “but one would wonder why?”
“You were the one that chose to spare him,” Marii said, eyes seeming to bore through Sotrah’s visor into his own. “And as I have said, that decision was wise.”
Sotrah watched as Marii turned away from him and made her way back over the window.
“You have come for answers and I have given them.”
Recognizing the statement for what it was, Sotrah turned on his heel and left the room. Varaa was waiting outside the door the lead him back through the halls to the door through which he had first entered, standing aside in order to allow him room to exit.
Stepping out of the building, Sotrah stood still for several seconds looking up at the suns above. He had gotten an answer, but he wasn’t sure it was one that he liked. So the pup was meant for greatness, but what sort of greatness? Would it grow up to threaten his rule? The Das tribe? Marii had said it would benefit all nervin, but what did that even mean? The tribes were at peace—however shaky it was—but still lived on separate planets and didn’t interact with one another.
“Sir?” One of the oj’lafteh spoke, voice cutting through Sotrah’s thoughts.
“Be silent.” Sotrah ordered, still staring up at the suns above. “Before I tear your throat out.”
Those around him stood in silence, bodies rigid, appearing more like armoured statues than anything else.
Would this greatness surpass mine? Sotrah thought to himself, scoffing inwardly. Perhaps it can be manipulated. Groomed. I can control it from behind the scenes, and make it’s greatness my own.
Sotrah felt amused at the thought. It would be a game, and he was very good at games.