“The swamp witch that was part of the Druid delegation left us with some tips and tricks on how to power up crystals and use them, instead of the black oils we’d normally extract from the ground,” Inalia explained.
“I know which spells she’s talking about,” Amelia replied. “I’ve studied the swamp witches’ triple tome.”
I nodded. “Yeah, me too. They draw energy into crystals, then use them as batteries through a series of charmed wires. That’s pretty cool, actually, that they left you with that knowledge. Extracting and burning fossil fuels should never be an option.”
Inalia chuckled. “However, many don’t believe the Druids were actually here. Years have passed, and the idea of visitors from beyond began to sound ludicrous to many. Before we knew it, half of the Cerixian Empire became convinced that the Druid delegation was just a fairytale, and that our engineers came up with the powered-up crystals and everything else that the swamp witch gave us.”
“That’s somewhat absurd, if I’m honest,” Taeral replied.
“Well, the emperor and the high chancellor didn’t bother to correct them,” Eira said. “They didn’t think it mattered where the knowledge came from. They figured it was more important that the people were at peace, and that our society could finally progress.”
“Yeah, but they basically encouraged a lie,” Taeral said.
“I know. It’s hard to explain certain mindsets, I suppose.” Inalia sighed. “They thought it was the right thing to do, and it earned them the confidence of more people across the domains. Pleasing them helped strengthen the empire’s hold on all the former kingdoms.”
We turned right at a large junction, passing by small groups of Cerixians along the way. They were an eerie sight to me—noticeably taller than most humanoid creatures we’d come across, with big brown or reddish or orange eyes. The males wore elegant, dark-colored tunics with frilly decorative elements that reminded me of Victorian England, complete with black hats and silken ascots. The ladies wore dresses, for the most part—with long and pumped-up skirts and tight crushed-velvet jackets in shades of black cherry, green moss, and navy blue. Some resorted to pantsuits, complete with white shirts and bright red ribbons around the high collars. Given their long and slender limbs, I had to admit, they all looked wonderful.
And they all watched us, without uttering a single word. I didn’t see fear in their eyes, but that didn’t mean they weren’t afraid. Many creatures had an innate ability to hide their true feelings, especially in the face of strangers. But I did recognize the glimmer of curiosity. We were noticeably different. Fortunately, most in our crew were almost as tall as they were. Amelia and I were the shortest, with Eva only about three inches taller. From certain angles, however, the Cerixians were able to spot our faces. Taeral had this ethereal, faint glow about him. The vamps were pale, with pearlescent skin, partially visible above the masks. Herakles had those intense lime green eyes, and Raphael was simply divine by all aesthetic standards across the universe—he always stood out. Clearly, some of our features made it obvious that we weren’t from around here.
“Oh, wow,” Amelia murmured as the former Fire Temple rose at the end of the boulevard we’d just turned onto. “That is… extraordinary.”
Even from a hundred yards away, we could see the magnificent lines of the building. It had been designed by a most artful mind and built by true craftsmen. As the sun broke through a patch of clouds, it cast its rays of light against the white tower, where a massive brass bell waited to be rung—someday.
My eyes widened at the sight before us. Thick and beautifully sculpted columns adorned the temple’s façade, resting on rounded bases. Their shafts were fluted, with delicate grooves that vanished beneath the capitals, which, in turn, were loaded with swirls of white marble, spilling outward like a raging ocean.
It was an old temple. The centuries had left their marks. It had seen a war or two, as well, judging by the scars left behind—old muskets and all kinds of projectiles, it seemed. Still, it stood proudly above most other buildings nearby, made entirely out of white marble and surrounded by a small, manicured garden. Blossoming trees were placed at the garden’s four corners. Furry little animals about the size of squirrels rummaged through the crowns, licking the pollen from the blossoms before eating them. I wondered what other animals they had in this world.
“The Hermessi worship was pretty strong in the past,” Inalia said. “But we moved past it.”
“Don’t let the crazy ones from the Sharman Domain hear you say that.” Eira chuckled.
Inalia shot her a stern glance but didn’t respond. There was tension between them, it was obvious, but it didn’t seem to come from a place of anger. They appeared to be of the same age, and the looks they gave one another told me they had known each other for a long time. Yet out here, they represented different branches of the Cerixian government, and they didn’t agree on much—especially where we were concerned. Still, I had to give Eira credit. She hadn’t been deliberately aggressive or even snarky toward us.
“I take it there are still worshippers on Cerix?” Taeral asked.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise,” Amelia chimed in, scrolling through her tablet. “We don’t have much information on Cerix, but, based on what we do know, they don’t seem the kind of people to fully abandon a faith after eons. A group that still worships here and there seems anthropologically reasonable.”
“Anthro—what?” Eira shot back, slightly confused.
“From a cultural point of view, so to speak,” Amelia replied, wearing an awkward half-smile. I liked her. Her vocabulary was far more complex than many people I’d met, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. Then again, maybe it just came naturally to her. Either way, I’d already understood Amelia’s value in the field. I’d seen her fight, and that wasn’t even the most important thing she had to offer. Her insights and the speed with which she exchanged info and updates with GASP via that nifty little tablet were gold, given the amount of ground we had to cover in this mission.
“Across the domains, there are people who still worship the Hermessi,” Inalia explained. “There aren’t many, and they’ve been left to do as they pleased on the matter. But lately they’ve started recruiting new followers. The young Cerixians are the easiest to draw into the cult, given their impressionable minds.”
“Ugh, I sincerely loathe the word ‘cult’ now,” I groaned.
Eva gave me a cold grin. “You’re the one who’d been droning on about a Hermessi cult, Riza.”
“Yeah, well, I’m already regretting it.”
“How long do the Cerixians live?” Varga asked.
“Actually, before you answer that, how do you measure your days and the passage of time?” Amelia cut in.
Inalia was clearly in her element right now. It was as if someone had turned the faucet on, letting all that knowledge in her head loose like a thick stream. She’d prepared for this, and she offered clear and concise answers with zero hesitation.
“Our sun cycle is three hundred and fifty days,” she said. Much like Earth and Calliope, I thought, though there was a small difference in numbers. “And the Cerixians live for about a hundred years, on average. Some of us are lucky enough to get past a hundred and thirty, but that takes a lot of work and some strict diets to accomplish.”
“And the whole planet is populated,” Taeral replied.
Inalia nodded again. “Yes. There are large areas of virgin wilderness, though. They make up about forty percent of our empire. Of the planet, in fact.”
“And there used to be kingdoms,” Taeral said.
“Seven of them,” Eira replied. “The Rose Kingdom, Zahar, Hadeen, Sharman, Kaffia, Phylos and Samotarcis.”
“They became domains once they agreed to end the bloodshed, unify, and pledge their allegiance to an emperor,” Inalia went on. “At the time, the emperor was chosen through trial by combat. The former kings of all seven domains stepped forth and fought one another until Charl, of the Frey dynasty, won. His great-great-I-don’t-know-how-many-times-great-grandson is our current leader, Emperor Tulla.”
Huh… Reminds me of Nevertide. A similar system had been established there. It made sense, though, to unify for the greater peace. Not many worlds would be willing to do that.
“How did they agree to abandon sovereignty?” Taeral asked.
“Too many people were dying. The armies and the engineers went on strike first. Then, the farmers and the manufacturers followed. It got to a point where all seven kingdoms were staring down a pit of despair, fighting over petty things like insulted princesses, stolen lands, and, of course, Hermessi worship, as I’ve already explained. It’s been a work in progress since,” Inalia said.
“And the high chancellor rules the government, I suppose,” Amelia replied. “Nalyon Martell would be his assistant, and not the most likable in the empire.”
Inalia and Eira both looked at each other, then laughed lightly. Curious, I looked over my shoulder and noticed the soldiers stifling smirks of their own, too. There was an exaggerated amount of proof that Nalyon Martell was an a-hole.
A strange buzz made me look up. The source of the noise looked like a bird, but it wasn’t. It was small and black, but with a motor beneath its tail and metallic wings that flapped frenetically as it passed overhead. A tiny latch opened on its belly for a split second—enough to drop a small scroll before the mechanical bird continued its flight.
