I frowned. “Even so, it still doesn’t explain such a large population. How many of you are there?”
“On Visio? About four to five billion Aeternae,” Kalon replied.
“Whoa… Okay, so even with the occasional so-called accident, the murders, the self-ending few, and the executions… it still doesn’t add up,” I said. “What is your birth rate?”
“Scarcer than that of the Rimians and the Naloreans,” Petra said darkly. This was a touchy subject, given the crisp tone of voice, sharper than her usual. “I suppose the tournaments and the fights account for a high percentage of deaths among the Aeternae.”
“The what now?” Nethissis blurted.
Behind me, she and Amal had kept quiet for most of the journey, though I couldn’t exactly blame them. While Derek, Tristan, and I had supported most of the conversation, Amal and Nethissis had been taking mental notes of their own. We were bound to compare our findings once we were on our own again. I, for one, was dying to hear their impressions. Chances were they’d seen or noticed things we hadn’t.
Kalon smiled. “The tournaments and prize fights. Not all the Aeternae value life the same way you would,” he said. “We have different perceptions of it. The fights are a constant adrenaline rush. The thought of getting killed in one of these events make many Aeternae enjoy their existence more.”
“That’s dark… and twisted,” I said. “Life is a precious gift, no matter how long it is.”
“When you’ve seen all of Rimia, Nalore, and Visio, when you’ve tasted and tried everything… when there’s nothing left for you to experience, what will you do?” Kalon asked, moving closer to me. I didn’t have an answer for him. “You’ll stare death in the face and welcome the dance, that’s what you’ll do.”
“Let us be honest here, Kalon. Many of the fighters are mere thrill-seekers. Few ever find the courage to fight through to the finals,” Corbin replied.
“The finals are always to the death,” Kalon explained, likely noticing my darkened gaze. “Up to that point, one of the fighters can still yield if he or she isn’t willing to risk getting killed for the grand prize.”
I had to admit, it was troubling. And, as the palace rose before us, a majestic complex of architectural prowess, I wondered… what joy of living did the Lord and Lady Supreme of the Aeternae condone, if their people were so willing to walk straight into the arms of a Reaper for such trivial pursuits?
No matter how I looked at this picture, something was still missing. The birth rate, as low as it could’ve been, and the death rate, wonky accidents included, did not account for what I was seeing around us, for the five billion Aeternae that lived on Visio. The puzzle was enormous and incredibly fascinating, like nothing I’d ever seen before. It had a tint of danger and excitement. It had secrets and strange customs and many wondrous things.
But it also had one hell of a gaping hole, smack in the middle of it. A missing piece, which I knew would prevent me from resting until I found it.
Sofia
The Lord and Lady Supreme’s palace was truly a sight to behold. A giant monument to eternal grandeur, made entirely from perfectly polished blocks of black marble, it captured the afternoon’s gleam in its pointed towers, of which there were six—four faced north, south, east, and west, while the other two rose in the middle of this astonishing complex, identical in size and height as they overlooked the entire city.
Five-hundred-yard-wide stairs led up to the sumptuous entrance, guarded by dozens of columns around which sculpted dragon-like beasts came down, each looking at us, immortalized in their desire to crunch on anyone who dared threaten the ruling crown of Visio. I balked at the statues for a while, taking in their exquisitely detailed work, down to the very last scale and spike. Goosebumps erupted over my arms, as I wondered what had inspired the artists to erect such creatures here, at the palace doors.
More golden guards poured out of the palace and settled down the steps, forming a passageway for us to follow, much like the red flares had done for us in the sky. Red blossoms burst in marble vases behind them, and a garden—a giant garden—hugged the palace from behind, its flowers and green shrubs spilling out on both sides of the building, almost threatening to keep growing until they reached the wide-open space at the front.
I was speechless. I’d never felt so intimidated by a construction before. This had been made specifically to impress and frighten those who beheld it. We stopped at the bottom of the stairs, with Corbin, Zoltan, Petra, and Kalon moving in front of us. Behind, the accompanying golden guards had lined up. For a moment, I wondered if they would let me leave, should I suddenly change my mind for whatever reason. Their expressions told me they wouldn’t.
Farther back, framing the enormous plaza over which the palace reigned, I could see the silver guards mingling with the people, many of whom had followed us through the city. We hadn’t even heard or seen them until now, which made me realize how stealthy the Aeternae could be.
“We’re about to meet the rulers of this world,” Derek said to me. “This is our chance to make a proper introduction.”
I nodded once. “I’m with you all the way, honey.”
Tristan and Esme’s faces were still covered, but I could see the wariness in their green eyes. Nethissis stayed calm, and so did Amane. We’d done right by bringing over a small team. Not having to rely on our dragons and sentries made everything more challenging, but it also gave us the opportunity to truly engage with these people. In this instance, there was no room for failure. No way we’d abandon our objective.
“The Lord and Lady Supreme are waiting for us in the throne room,” Zoltan said. “There isn’t much sunlight coming through that part of the palace, so I assume you’ll be taking your masks off.”
“Absolutely,” I replied. “It gives us no pleasure wearing them, I assure you, Chief Councilor.”
The four made their way up the stairs, and we followed, while I tried to accept that their way of life, while somewhat troubling, was different from ours. I had to think outside my GASP bubble. This didn’t seem like Neraka. The people weren’t oppressed or mind-controlled. They’d been conquered a very long time ago, and they’d adapted to their circumstances. It wasn’t our place to try and change that. Sure, there were similarities, but each world was unique and different in its own way.
Besides, our goal wasn’t to police the Aeternae.
“I know you’re a little worried about the Rimians and Naloreans, but you shouldn’t be,” Esme whispered to me. “They’re both colonized peoples. We can’t change that unless there’s ample military action, and it’s not our duty to interfere, willy-nilly.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I muttered.
“None of us like it. But I do think we should take our time studying their world before we draw any kind of conclusion,” Tristan chimed in, keeping his voice down. “Chances are the principates are perfectly okay with their situation, given that the Aeternae are clearly wealthy and can sustain their economies through trade. Only, in their case, blood is the most valuable commodity.”
I exhaled. “Guess that makes sense.”
Diplomacy was to be our preferred route. And Tristan was right. We’d have to take our time with this place in order to truly understand it and its people. What I didn’t like was the way the soldiers looked at us. They didn’t say anything, but they looked as though they were ready to kill us if we so much as made the wrong move.
Why is this surprising? You’re on their territory. You’ve made it clear you’re not exactly on board with how they procure their food. Of course they’re iffy about your presence here.
As we entered the palace, Petra stopped and turned around to face us. The reception hall was enormous, with gilded columns and dark skies painted across the domed ceiling. Paintings of previous rulers covered the walls, with their names finely engraved on small golden plaques. Most of them carried the Nasani last name.
Gold-leaf chandeliers came down from the top, hung on brass chains. The candles flickered softly, casting their amber light throughout the hall. Palace servants in black velvet tunics stood at every open archway, ready to attend to our every need.
“You can now remove your masks,” Petra said, smiling. “The sun no longer shines through this area, including the throne room.”
I pulled mine off first, along with the hood, and the high priestess’s blue eyes glimmered with intrigue. “Thank you,” I replied.
“You are breathtakingly beautiful,” she declared, and gave Derek a faint nod. “You are a most fortunate man, Derek.”
“That I am, for sure,” my husband agreed, stealing a glance at me.
Kalon’s expression shifted when Esme took her mask and hood off, followed by Tristan. It became impossible for the Aeternae to look away from her—not that I could blame him. Esme was beautiful, fierceness burning in her green eyes, her slim nose and pale complexion making her look almost ethereal.
“We are most grateful for your reception,” Tristan said. “It is an honor to set foot in this place. It’s absolutely incredible.”
Zoltan grinned, motioning around us. “Indeed, the Nasani Palace is a masterpiece. Our Lord and Lady Supreme’s ancestors built it about a million years ago. Even with other dynasties temporarily in place, it kept its name, a tribute to its creators.”
“How many dynasties are there?” Esme asked.
“Seven, young lady. Nasani have ruled Visio for a total of 2.5 million years. The rest were more or less evenly split between the houses of Shatal, Crimson, Visentis, Mefithi, Mellen, and Blanchis,” Zoltan replied.
“I take it your ancestors once ruled over Visio as well, then,” Derek concluded, recognizing three of the names as belonging to our welcoming party.
The shadow of a smile crossed Corbin’s face. “It was a long, long time ago. Visio has known only peace and prosperity under Nasani rule.”
“You don’t like how your predecessors handled their crowns?” Esme replied.
“The Crimson dynasty are masters of war. They do not understand or accept the politics of leadership like the Nasani,” Petra said. It sounded like a well-directed jab, and I had a feeling there were plenty of machinations behind the curtains of Visio’s throne room.
“Let’s not forget that the Visentis dynasty had no business running an empire to begin with, since their specialty was rather… niche,” Corbin retorted.
“Mazir is not niche. Our magic keeps the entire machine oiled and running,” Petra said, her forehead smoothed, her stare cold enough to freeze an entire sea.
