“Military presence here is in violation of my previous agreements with the high chancellor,” I said, attempting one last shot at pushing back on the Armed Forces.
There were dozens of them, locked and loaded, against foreigners we knew next to nothing about. What if they had the abilities and the technology to basically wipe us all out? Did we really want to test that theory? I’d spoken to Nalyon and the high chancellor about this so many times. It felt like no one ever listened.
Eira shot me a grin. “Inalia. The high chancellor clearly didn’t want you and Mr. Martell here to be alone. So he changed his mind. What’s the big deal?”
Glancing around, I could almost feel the tension rising and the air thickening. The electric supercharge sent goosebumps beneath my skin. How could Eira not sense the dangerous path we were starting on by pointing our weapons at these people? Still, I had to admit. Getting on the high chancellor’s bad side was not a good idea. I had to find the middle ground, and I had to do it fast, because Nalyon was woefully unprepared for any kind of diplomatic engagement.
I took a step forward, then turned to face both sides—the foreigners and my people. “Okay. I get it. The high chancellor felt it necessary to have soldiers from Armed Forces. Fine. Let’s say his decision was… understandable. What is the point of you all pointing your weapons at them?” I asked, pointing at Taeral and his crew.
A sense of danger tickled my nape whenever I looked at the crown prince of the Fire Star, as he’d so nobly introduced himself. He was gorgeous, with liquid gold eyes and thick, short black hair. He was so very different from all Cerixians, and that made him special. His jawline was sharp, but elegant. His skin was silky, with a gentle, discreet pearlescent sheen—as if sunshine flowed through his veins, illuminating him from within. And his black leather uniform created a dramatic contrast that made him stand out even more.
Was this normal? Was it okay for me to find this creature attractive?
“Security protocols,” Trap replied, his clipped tone ramming straight into my train of thought and derailing it.
“That’s ridiculous. They have clearly stated their peaceful intentions, and, at the risk of repeating what’s already been said, you can obviously see that they haven’t drawn their weapons in response!” I shot back. “Put your damn weapons down because you are embarrassing the nation of Cerix in front of visitors from other and more advanced worlds!”
That seemed to hit something inside Trap. Though he hated making any kind of concession in front of me, he sucked it up and waved at his troops to lower their weapons. As soon as the muzzles and sharp ends of swords came down, the pressure seemed to soften, even dissipate.
“See? There’s a lot more we can accomplish through discourse than with violence,” I said, smiling.
“Just be advised,” Eira replied, looking at Taeral and his group. “Violence or any form of conspiracy against the Cerixian Empire will be met with deadly force.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. For centuries we’d waited to meet people from other worlds, yet, when the moment came, we swelled our feathers to make ourselves look big and mighty and dangerous in front of complete strangers. I’d have thought Eira to be smarter than this—I immediately slapped my inner self. I should’ve known better, too.
The high chancellor never would’ve let me do this on my own, I thought, in hindsight. He valued the Armed Forces more than he did the Foreign Relations. It had taken decades for my department to get to the point where someone actually listened to what we had to say. I brokered peace. Eira was taught and trained to win wars. We came from the same background. From the same “slums.” Yet we’d both chosen different paths to ascend in this still-young empire. We seemed to be cursed to be on opposite sides of each other, and the sadness invoked by this notion made me want to cry a little. Not that long ago, Eira and I had been the closest of friends.
It was time for me to prove my worth as a diplomatic professional. I’d never get a better chance than this one, right here.
“Now, Crown Prince of the Fire Star—”
“Taeral, please,” he interrupted me.
I felt my cheeks get warm as I offered him a faint, apologetic smile. ”Taeral, Pardon our abrasive welcoming methods. You must understand that we’ve only had contact with the outer world once before. There are still people in our empire who don’t think you exist. The theory according to which we were alone in the universe was once circulated with great conviction, until the Druid delegation arrived. It’s been centuries since, and all those present at the time are now dead and buried. Despite our official records, some Cerixians are more inclined to believe that everything was manufactured, that we are the only ones responsible for our progress. Therefore, we haven’t yet learned how to prepare for this second visit.”
“That’s bizarre,” Amelia replied, raising an eyebrow. “But I assume that mindset will change, now that we’re here.”
“Oh, absolutely.” I sighed. “Maybe now we’ll finally start looking outward.”
“Inalia, as I was saying earlier, we are in need of assistance,” Taeral said. “I would’ve loved a more official and lengthier first conversation between our civilizations, but the truth is, some of our people are dying in the most troubling of circumstances. Our investigation has brought us to Cerix. We think we might find some of the answers we need here.”
I blinked several times, trying to register that information. It was kind of difficult to focus when Taeral was speaking. His voice, low and slightly raspy, tickled my senses. Get a grip, Inalia.
“You think the Cerixians are responsible for your people dying?” Nalyon blurted.
For the third most powerful Cerixian, he was more of a bumbling idiot than anything else, and it had often made me wonder—what did the high chancellor see in this guy? His malice was unwarranted. His decisions were often rushed and the repercussions painful. However, he still had a job, after ten years. Why? For the love of all that’s sacred in our world, why?
“That is so not what I said,” Taeral retorted, understandably irritated. “We followed a lead here. We were told that Cerix once worshipped the Hermessi and documented their ritualistic practices, too. It’s my understanding that there may be information about the Hermessi here that we wouldn’t find anywhere else.”
The mention of Hermessi felt like a punch in the gut for me. If we agreed to dig into the elements and our past worship of them, I was going to scratch a scab that might bleed again—as far as I, personally, was concerned. Unlike most Cerixians today, I did believe in the Hermessi’s existence, and I had a bond to them, too. But I refused to condone their worship superseding our cultural and technological progress. The domains had fallen into that trap before, and it had fueled numerous wars over the centuries.
And with the fringe cults rising and trying to bring the Hermessi back into focus, I knew we’d be poking a dangerous animal if we pursued this line of inquiry.
Nevertheless, these gorgeous strangers were asking for our help. How could I bring myself to refuse them?
“We stopped worshipping the Hermessi a long time ago. Where did you get your information from?” Nalyon replied, a deep frown drawing a shadow between his irregular eyebrows.
“A Hermessi, actually. From another planet,” Taeral said. “We’re told there is a rogue elemental out in our part of the universe. It’s responsible for numerous fire fae deaths. We’re inclined to assume it’s a Fire Hermessi who’s abandoned his planet and has made it all the way to our neck of the woods. We need to find a way to find it and stop it before more innocents die.”
As if struck by lightning, my brain roared into full function. My synapses made connections I hadn’t been able to spot before. And the overarching conclusion filled me with dread. If what Taeral said was true, then it wasn’t just their problem anymore. It was ours, as well, whether we wanted to admit it or not.
At this point, I understood that Nalyon Martell and the high chancellor were going to give me more than this one headache. Oh, no. Bigger issues were afoot, and they were bound to test us all. I only hoped that I wouldn’t be left on my own in this. That I’d find some kind of support in the upper echelon of the Cerixian Empire.
Otherwise, we were all screwed.
Varga
This entire exchange was baffling to me.
Here we were, trying to introduce ourselves to a new civilization, when they’d up and turned their weapons on us. I’d started out thinking we’d have an easy run in this place. Maybe we’d even get the answers we needed.
Now, as I measured each and every one of these Cerixian uniforms from head to toe, I begged to differ. Despite their military garb and threatening weapons, they were all scared. Their auras flared yellow. These were the kind of people who’d been taught to shoot first, ask questions later. Inalia’s diplomacy had actually diffused the tension, and for that, I’d be forever grateful to this red-headed stranger. However, the danger had not yet passed.
Nalyon Martell eyed us as if we were about to rob him of his clothes, his home, his everything. He, too, was terrified of us, but there was an underlying emotion that bothered me more. It was dark red with streaks of orange… It came across as some kind of fear of discovery. Like he was planning something, but he’d told no one. That put us in the crosshairs, so I decided to pay more attention to his demeanor. Whenever he looked at Inalia, his aura flared red. He hated her with the fire of a thousand suns.
Inalia was the most genuine of them all, and there was a hidden fondness between her and Eira Dorres. I had a feeling that they went a long way back. They knew each other well, but, somehow, they’d wound up on opposite sides of the Cerixian spectrum.
Trap Mellon, on the other hand, was distant and observant. His emotions varied, but the only dislike that his aura manifested was toward Nalyon Martell. Toward Inalia, he felt pity. This was a rich and complex painting unraveling before me, and I knew it would take more than a few minutes’ worth of conversation to figure everyone out.
