The Chronicles
of Heaven’s War:
Burning Phoenix
©2015 Ava D. Dohn
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
* * *
Table of Contents:
Section Six: Hour of the Crow
Section Seven: Uncertain Morning
Section Eight: Of Trolls and Fated Roads
Section Nine: Children of the Tempest
Section Ten: Whispers of the Kriggerman
Section Six: Hour of the Crow
‘My dearest TereoAprupneo,
The universe is changing and will never again be the same. A new day is dawning that both excites me and fills me with trepidation. We are no longer the masters of our destiny, but merely soldiers who will carry the banners of coming warlords. They are new and strange, having minds different from ours. They not only hate the enemy, mind I say, an enemy whose names and faces they have never known or loved, they also have a righteous indignation against that foe burning in their souls. Our old ways mean nothing to them. Indeed, I believe they view our old ways as useless baggage carried by romantic fools who desire to live in the past.
My Terey, you once lamented that our voices no longer roll with fear-inspiring thunder. I believe these people will return that thunder to us, but at a cost that causes me to shudder with unease. The heavens will be soaked with the blood of our brothers and sisters before the thunder quiets, and our old ways will lie trampled in the dust forever. They will redefine the meaning of war and will carry to new heights the arts and designs of slaughter.
To us, Lowenah is our mother. To these newcomers, she is their God. Their former mindset of worshipful devotion was not left behind when they entered our realm. A zealotry born out of that worship drives them in ways unknown to us. It gives them an energy that does not rest, that does not sleep. It envelops them with an all-consuming fire that will not be extinguished, but that will set this entire universe ablaze. They have become an inferno that will not die down until all of the enemies of their God are burned to forgotten cinders.
This fire begets fire. I watched at the council meeting. The younger ones among our kind are being caught up in this blaze for war. A hatred and bloodlust is growing in them. I fear what I see, and yet I know I must allow it to grow and develop. We, my dear Terey, are the Old Guard. We must become young again. We must support the changes taking place. What we are seeing arise is a new creation - a creation that will save us from ourselves and will finish, in its way, what was started so long ago. I believe we are witnessing the birth of the new Dragons.
With the deepest of affection,
Your sister and loving companion,
MihaiProiosAstron’
Lovingly folding her letter, written on finest of linen paper and slipping it into an envelope made from that same paper, her hands having carefully crafted it, Mihai sat back, sighing. Now for the wax seal… Everything must be perfect for a most loving companion. Lifting a burning, flaxen candle made from the comb of the hoarfrost bee, Mihai tilted it so that several drops of the melted wax fell upon the envelope’s closed leaf, instantly beginning to congeal. Quickly placing the candle back on her writing desk, she picked up her signet ring, pressing it into the hardening crimson wax, securing her seal upon it.
Blowing out the candle and picking up the letter, Mihai stepped from her tiny officer’s cabin into the long, shadowy companionway of the imperial frigate, DishonPele. All navy ships ran on Palace Time. It now being late evening according to that time, the ship was darkened as though it were traveling in the blackness of night. The woman laughed to herself. Here she was hundreds or possibly thousands of light years from EdenEsonbar, on course for a distant star system in the neutral zone far beyond the eastern territories that, itself, was many light years yet away, and she was walking toward the baggage room to hand deliver a letter that was to be transported by fast packet and then hand delivered to her dear companion, Terey, when, instead, she could go to the communications room to send her message out, it being received possibly in a day or even less.
(Author’s note: ‘Light year’ was a terminology used once by the Ancients long before Mihai’s birth, and now only spoken about in the books of adventure and tales. The study of what is now referred to as ‘neutrino transfusing cyclotronics’, the first fundamental building block of mathematical theory known as ‘EbenCeruboam NTC’, as neutrino transfusing cyclotronics was often referenced, proposed that, since matter and energy were one and the same, then energy and energy were one and the same. Thus all things pertaining to energy – gravity, time, space, and location (distance) were also one and the same, given that all things came from one unified source energy (oneness) and had been split – as though through a spectrum – to become many different things. So, one need only transfuse the desired thing back through the spectrum, returning it to its true being and then convert it again into something different by passing it back through the spectrum at a different moment of angle and poof!… the laws surrounding that particular form of energy could be circumvented to achieve the intended goal.
The practiced study of NTC led to the development of navigation systems able to read the stars, i.e. change the energy fields surrounding a space transport into non-readable forms of energy, thus allowing the transport to operate outside common universal laws. With implementation of this theory, jumping nearby star systems soon became practical. Later, with the discovery of jump portals, along with advanced NTC technology, distant ranges within the galaxy also became reachable, opening up the universe to Lowenah’s ever-inquisitive children.
This was ancient history by Mihai’s day, being part of the discoveries made by the children early in the First Age.)
Mihai shrugged. This seemed to be the way with everything. Her people just could not let go of the old to embrace the new. Well, why should they? For example, the horse had become not only one of the children’s most precious tools, but also closest of animal companions. Long-lived hybrids of seventy or eighty years were now common, they being used to this day in every form of service from giant draft animals to fine, prancing, riding mounts. Even now, nearly every navy ship, be it cutter to carrier, was equipped with stables for the safe transportation of horses.
Regarding crafts of war, her people were no different. Solid projectile and energy weapons abounded, with even more advanced designs awaiting life, sitting upon the draftsmen’s tables. Even now, the children charged into battle with sword and axe and, oh yes, bow and arrow. While scientific application had lifted many of these weapons up to the status of technical marvels, such as the derker blade and jillson bolt, even those inventions were ancient long before the Great War. The lanner, a contrivance of villainy born in Mihai’s mind, was only a more efficient and compact version of handheld energy weapons in use for many millenniums.
Mihai puzzled over why her people were so absorbed with such foolishness. It had cost them battles at times and so many squandered lives. She shuddered as a chill ran down her back, thinking of countless, fruitless assaults made by brave warriors charging into the jaws of certain death, wielding little more than sword and shield. Why did they do it, still do it?
Glancing down at her hand holding the letter, Mihai sadly smiled, remembering. Food, clothing, and shelter were necessities needed to keep the flesh alive. All other things were to sustain soul and spirit. Acquiring needs for the flesh was animalistic, all creatures seeking such a reward. But for the children of the Maker of Worlds, the human heart must be satisfied above all other desires
. Without that desire fulfilled, life of the flesh would have no meaning.
The letter Mihai was delivering to her sister and companion was not merely some compressed flaxen fiber sprinkled with a little ink. No, it was a small piece of her soul being delivered to someone she loved dearly, a gift that could be held close to the heart on those lonely nights when little hope remained in a dark and troublesome world. It was spirit food, something as important to the survival of her people as were all the grain fields and orchards within the universe. It was this longing for the spirit foods that made them human, but it also threatened their very existence.
The enemy long ago threw away this nostalgic spirit of the heart, replacing it with a vision of a new world ruled over by their supreme god, Asotos. His promise was one of deliverance into a world of new enlightenment and understanding, one where ‘all people could attain to the immortality denied them by the wicked usurper holding captive the secret powers hidden deep within the confines of the Palace’. First must come success in war - the defeat of the Witch Mother and her misguided urchins, then would come the revival of the spirit to a new and unimagined level of theosophical glory.
Privations forced upon the people of Asotos’ kingdom did not weaken their resolve, at least for those who accepted as truth the religion preached by the Worm and his priests. The future! The future! Their reward was always in the future. The spirit would be made fat with satisfaction sometime in the future, but first must come sacrifice to attain that future. For the enemy, the coming reward replaced the spirit food from the past that was still so cherished by the children of Lowenah, she who had not offered empty promises, saying instead there were no guarantees, and that fate rested upon choices made.
Mihai pondered these two opposing ideologies as she slowly made her way toward the baggage room. Who really were the children of these upper realms? For countless ages, the children lavished upon themselves every form of selfish pleasure imagined, having no guilt, not fearing any divine retribution other than say a dizzying, sickly hangover, or possible bruise or broken bone. Life had been delivered up as each one chose it, without consideration of the future or consequences. At least that was the way Mihai saw it in her heart.
Now her world was filled with loss and guilt - loss of innocence, of companions, of beauty and art, of certainty, of everything that made up what her life had always been about. From that fateful day Asotos tore her body and soul asunder down to this hour, Mihai’s world was filled with uncertainty, doubt and guilt. Yes, guilt…guilt for allowing the evil man into her heart, guilt for living while so many of her lovers and companions had not, guilt for wishing for the pleasantries of the past while not wanting the hidden realities of the future. She fought these wars, led Lowenah’s children into the depths of Hell, indeed, sacrificed all things in her life, not for a new future, but for a hopeful return to the past. Oh, to forget all the evil and return to the days of innocence!
And yes, as the woman sighed, there was also this guilt for a growing numbness of feeling nothing… pain, love, hate, passion…whatever feeling that made her human. The war, the war…it had drained her strength and her peoples’. Six millennia of rape, wanton murder and torture had changed them…her. Drinking to forget was common, many of the army’s best having resigned themselves to the bottle for courage and valor, and no one seemed to care, other than a few stuffed shirts at the councils. Even Mihai managed to turn a blind eye to the suffering, at times finding herself surrounded by the gore and misery of battle, thinking only of the temporal victory won and not the destruction of so many of her companions.
Mihai shook away her bad visions, lamenting silently. If this warring lasted much longer, would her soul even continue to exist? Or might she, too, become little more than the animalistic creatures that seek at all cost only the protection of the flesh, hiding from the day to utter in the darkness amoral platitudes of hunger and desire without having care for even like of kind, to preserve her flesh alive to satisfy only her prurient desires, giving no consideration to the welfare of friend or lover?
A barely noticeable shudder ran along the companionway of the DishonPele. The pulsing vibrations of the ship’s two massive engines slowed and then picked up again. Mihai stopped, listening.
“We must be nearing the Milentian Nebula and correcting course to line up on the Lenexion star systems.” The woman muttered, sadly remembering thousands of broken hulks from the Day of Tears still haunting that region. She attempted to push away sordid visions of fire and death, of invasion plans gone awry, mistakes made, foolish blunders. Twenty thousand souls slaughtered in one hour… one hour, because she misdirected a communiqué.
Mihai swore, disgruntled, “Fuck it!” and stormed off.
The woman swore a lot more these days, didn’t like it, but did it anyway. Took the pressure off, she guessed. Didn’t drink though, well, like the others did to forget, or just not feel maybe. She felt, all too painfully felt. Swearing made her feel more like she was in control, in charge and less the victim. It was better than drinking to forget the memories always lurking in the shadows of her mind. Swearing put them in perspective, and she in control.
Stepping from the companionway through a narrow door, Mihai took the boson’s stairs that spiraled downward into the bowels of the ship, exiting two levels below onto the colonnade deck. The colonnade ran two-thirds the length of the DishonPele, was two full spans of a man’s outstretched arms wide, and the ceiling as high as a man’s reach. Well lit, with six movable double bulkheads sunken into the walls, a person got the feeling of expanse when standing in this long, wide corridor, unlike claustrophobic intrusions forced upon their senses elsewhere in the confines of this frigate-o-war.
(Author’s note: The DishonPele, formerly known as the ‘Omri’ before the end of the Great War, was built during a temporary interlude of peace some time before that war began. It was an evolutionary machine, caught somewhere between the demise of the dreadnaught and the birth of the modern ship-o-war, being somewhat a misfit child of both concepts. So it was that many spaces aboard the ship were narrow and cramped, while a portion was built to create the feeling of terrestrial living, thus the colonnade deck with its intruding half-columns along the colonnade and many double door galleries off it. It was believed this approach to internal ship architecture might well ease the cabin fever often experienced during deep space travel.
This idea did not prove itself but, by its very nature of design, weakened the integrity of the ship when confronted with the ravages of battle. By the time of this Prisoner Exchange, the DishonPele had received many a rebuild, the only thing remaining of the original colonnade deck being the long, open passage of the colonnade, minus the contrived pillars. The expansive galleries were cut down in size to make room for additional storage and a new, reinforced double hull, leaving smaller, single door wardrooms exiting onto the slightly altered colonnade. Still, the colonnade was the fastest and most efficient way to gain access to other parts of the ship. Even with refits, the DishonPele was relegated primarily to backwater and livery duties during the Great War, Command believing it unfit for frontline service.)
Mihai liked DishonPele, meaning ‘Mother’s little love’, a name she had requested it be given when she booked its passage to EremiaPikros for the signing of the armistice at the end of the Great War, which was also its current destination, for the Prisoner Exchange. The ship suited her needs well for such journeys, plenty of conference rooms, private nooks, several rooms for conversion to sleeping cabins, and lots of places to hide when the child within wished to be alone.
Quiet late night sounds of a sleeping ship echoed in Mihai’s ears. The ‘click, click, click’ of the duty officer’s hard-soled boots as they paced the deck, reverberated along the passageway, keeping mystical tempo with the hum and whirr of distant motors and servos. Combining with these sounds was the steady pulsing of the ship’s mighty engines, singing out in all their majestic power - a ple
asant symphony of reassurance that all was well. Sensing the melody, Mihai stepped up the pace until the heels of her own boots clicked in happy harmony with the music of the ship.
As she passed a small officers’ canteen, its warm, beckoning, golden lights standing out in sharp contrast to the many closed doors or cold darkened rooms along the colonnade, Mihai chanced a glance inside. Instantly she stopped, spying a lonely-appearing Zadar sitting silently at one of the eatery’s little tables.
“Hello!” Mihai offered, a hint of surprise in her voice. She leaned forward, grasping the side of the doorway. “What are you doing up at this late hour? Have you lost your comforter so quickly?”
Zadar snapped to, as if being waked from a dream. He had not heard Mihai’s questions, but did return a toothy smile while motioning toward a nearby chair. “Oh… Mihai. It’s always so good to see you, and I must say you look enchanting tonight. Where’s your fellow, and shouldn’t he be concerned you might find another suitor should he allow you to wander these halls alone?”
Mihai replied that Paul had little to fear, and shared the reason for her journey into the heart of the sleeping ship. “I so wanted to send this letter by postal today. When I discovered the early hour of the packet’s arrival, I forced the moment and abandoned my fellow to the loneliness of a quiet room, to first write this love letter and then deliver it to the post. I did, then, promise to make a return and give him a worthy reward for his longsuffering patience.”
Still extending a hand, encouraging Mihai to sit awhile, Zadar asked, “I know the hour is late, but the packet will not arrive until the morning watch. And I also do believe that your fellow will continue to persevere should you fail to deliver yourself until the dawning light. Will you please take your leave to sit with me for but a few moments? I have need of my sister’s council, for I am at a total loss.”
Mihai would have laughed, Zadar usually being such a tease, but she saw in his eyes that the man was deeply troubled. Stepping into the room and sliding into the chair across the tiny table, she cooed, “Always for you, dear one, little brother.” She then asked if something was amiss.
“I thought…” Zadar frowned staring down at his cup, finally picking it up and aimlessly swirling the remaining contents round and round. “I mean… well…” He set the cup back down and took Mihai’s hand, his troubled eyes searching hers. “I love you… At least I think I love you. I hurt over you, fear for you, even pine at times for you. You’re special to me, but so is Darla and…and so many, many, of my sisters. I ache over the loss of Sirion, wishing that she is soon returned to us alive and well.”
Quiet frustration grew in his voice. “I thought I was in love. It is love, isn’t it? I can be in love with many women, can I not? This I have always believed. I mean, if something bad happens to one of my sisters, I weep from the burning ache within my heart. And…and I do care for my sisters’ well-being, desiring to be close to them, and not just in our lovemaking.”
He clenched a fist. “I thought I understood love, I mean real love, lasting love. But this woman has screwed up my head, turned me upside-down. When I’m close to her, all the universe is at peace, time does not exist, my heart sings drunk with merry tunes. And when she’s away… well, I have trouble thinking about other things when she’s not near.”
Squeezing her companion’s hand, Mihai drew close until her face was only inches from his. “Sweet One, I have shared my dreams with more lovers than days you have lived. Each one I loved, pined for, wished the moment would never end when in that person’s wonderful arms. I have wept, seeing former lovers dead upon the field of battle, even when they had joined the enemy camp. Love is such a queer thing, a kaleidoscope of emotion that is too scattered to understand. One can only learn to ride those reckless beams of emotion, trying not to understand what they’re all about.”
Mihai cooed, “No one has ever questioned your love, your romance. Few are the men I have impassioned my heart over who can love as deeply as you. Your dreams are honest and real. You have the most sincere heart of any man I know.”
Zadar leaned forward, softly kissing Mihai on her lips. “Other than the Lady, there is no one like you who can lift my spirits, my passions, as you can. This woman I speak of has not done such a thing, she not being learned in the ways of lovemaking. No, she screws up my heart, not my passions. That is also a puzzle to me, for she has made it clear that I should not forsake loving my sisters or I would offend her.”
Puzzled, Mihai asked, “Do you think she cares not for your love, and is trying to be polite to you? You know, the ways of our people are so different from the ways of her world. Maybe she doesn’t under…”
“Oh, no!” Zadar answered emphatically. “The woman has confessed to me that no other man has stolen her heart as I have done. She cries when she speaks of her love for me.” He shook his head. “But she’s so strange, mystical - fire and ice. I ache with a fear that our love will pass away and I will not desire love again.”
He gathered Mihai’s other hand up and held them both tightly in his. “You understand the mind-share so well, knowing it is a release for the heart, in times both good and bad. In times of trouble, a mind-share is comforting and consoling. Many times my sisters have sought me out to dream with them after they have lost a close companion, it letting them ease the pain of death that weighs so heavily on their hearts. Dear sister, how many dreams have you and I shared? Hundreds? Many more I do believe.” Mihai smiled, nodding.
Zadar waxed, frustrated. “The first time we shared each other’s love, at Sulfur Lake, I could not see into Trisha’s mind, couldn’t find a way to get in. All the while I felt a raging inferno boiling within her breast, secrets so vile they tortured her mind and soul, but she refused my succor. Then, last night we shared passionate love, but again she sealed her soul from me, and when I probed to find a way into her heart, the wrath of her angry resistance was fierce and condemning.”
“Yet, later, in the quiet morning hours, she confessed that never had she been loved by a man as she had by me. So confusing… Even more confusing, when we waked, she quickly dressed in the darkness and scooted from our cabin. She then filled the day with tiresome activities until well after the dinner hour, the woman being in a sour mood all that time. When we had finally dined, she feigned need for late night business, telling me not to wait up. When she did not return at all, only a little while ago I came here to seek out a companion.” He glanced into his cup, admitting sadly, “but I think it, too, has grown cold.”
“Well…” Mihai pondered what she was hearing. “It might just be a simple case of bashful guilt. You know, the people of Trisha’s world are the queerest of creatures when it comes to dealing with feelings. Your lady may well have enjoyed delicious interludes with you so much that it made her heart feel that something that good must certainly be wicked. Now she’s off a’hiding, trying to wrap her mind around the conflict of emotions racing about inside her.”
“Look, Love...” Mihai released Zadar’s hold and took one of his hands, pulling it down to the table, cupped in one of hers. Stroking his opened palm with the fingers of her other hand, she mused, “Rules, yes, rules and laws, especially made up by a bunch of religious fools – and believe me when I say the spiritual leaders of Trisha’s world are all a bunch of arrogant fools – they make up all kinds of stupid rules that suit their fancy. Pulls ‘em out of their a… Well, you know what I mean.”
“These rules are all made divine, of course, directly from God. To them, perfection is all based on control, a perfect person having perfect control. That’s one reason they rejected me when I visited that world. Those fools say that if it feels good, it must be evil, must be controlled. They say that God only made us feel good things to test us out to fitness. We must control those feelings because they are really evil, from God, but evil. Then, after their dogma of control has been fully established, they shove it down the thr
oats of the common people, causing those common folk to feel guilty about everything they feel that’s good.”
She looked up and into Zadar’s face, the man hanging on her every word. “It screws up the brain, makes people live by law instead of love and moral responsibility. Takes a long time to get it out of the head... I was only there for three years or so, knowing who I really was for that little while, and I still had my mind screwed up after returning here.” She pointed toward her head. “It screws you up, really screws you up…”
Raising an eyebrow while smiling pontifically, she explained, “The more wonderful the emotion, the more evil it must be, thus the great need to control, and the greater the sin if broken. The most powerfully enjoyable of these prurient acts, I believe, is that of lovemaking, it bringing two people into the state of truly becoming one, thus into a divine body. Yet, by the rules of arrogant men, it has become unholy to share that gift with someone not delivered up to the other by law. Screw love! The people of that world sell sex, steal sex, barter sex, and pervert sex but, by the strictest of laws, it must never be shared freely without the approval of Law.”
Scowling, Mihai looked down at Zadar’s hand. “The very people who profess me as their god - the fools! - would stone me and you and all the other angels to whom they express respect and devotion should they know how we share our love. Mother made us able to enjoy romance with many lovers – one size fits all, you might say – but, in Trisha’s world, it’s ever-always one man for the woman, or it will be eternal damnation for her.”
“Your girl painfully remembers the penalty for breaking those stupid laws. She lives in our world now, but her spirit still lingers in her old one, she wondering at times if unbridled love is truly a reality here or but a dream. Trisha might well be afraid that one day she will wake from that dream and find out it was all a heart-breaking mistake. It is also a possibility that the woman’s heart is not yet convinced this is its new reality, and so is fighting the illusion by flooding Trisha’s soul with feelings of guilt.”
Zadar agreed. “The things you say are not new to me, but you do manage to weave your thoughts into a tapestry of understanding that my mind and heart have not yet knitted together. The evil past of her world has certainly ruined so much of her carefree innocence. I have felt that evil lurking behind her shrouded veil of secret thoughts, but I do believe there’s even more to her disquieting moods.”
Mihai squeezed Zadar’s hand, waiting upon him to explain.
“My dearest sister,” Zadar looked into Mihai’s eyes, concerned, “this is not an ordinary Prisoner Exchange. No one says it’s so, but there’s a disturbing undercurrent that flows deep within the hearts of those who understand it to be, and so it is with this woman troubling my heart. She’s been agitated over coming events since the last council, her anxiety only growing in intensity since our departure.”
“Mihai, I think the woman is on a mission of sorts, she feeling the weight of the universe pressing down on her. She does not speak of it, brushes if off when I have mentioned it, but the woman comports herself as one does when mentally preparing for an upcoming battle. My Love, tell me, what lies down this road we are on? Whispers I’ve heard spoken in the dark hint that we possibly walk into a world of hopelessness and damnation - that the future of the universe hangs upon a thread, and we walk on a knife’s edge of uncertainty - the reason, some believe, for Mother’s presence.”
Mihai offered a toothy smile of reassurance that not to be the case, hiding her private trepidation over the coming hour of darkness. “I’m sure it will be little different than past exchanges. You know, the Worm’s haggling over the value of the goods delivered for swap, his accusations of how badly his people were mistreated, his attempts at goading us into doing something so that he can cry ‘insult or indiscretion’ thus depriving us of a few more of our trade goods to gain his succor. Mother only comes along because the Wastepipe has requested she be there.”
While Zadar contemplated her lengthy answer, Mihai silently pondered what she was told about Trisha. It had been decided by the Council that the new field marshal was to act as Herald, official voice of the Council, Mihai being the Chiliarchos, or Commanding Chief, remaining silent, as was the custom, unless taking private counsel with her herald. A hopeless feeling swept her heart. Oh, how much she missed Gabrielle, the person who had been chiliarchos until Mihai became field marshal, Gabrielle then taking over title as Mihai’s herald.
What was TrishaQaShaibJal up to anyway? Mother had appointed the woman field marshal against Mihai’s wishes, but Mother was not to be denied when the mood was on her. Maybe Trisha was a good military strategist and leader. Still… being good at war did not necessarily make one competent at political intrigues, and this Prisoner Exchange would be filled with them. And it was not Mother who requested Trisha stand in for Mihai as herald at the upcoming negotiations. The Council, by the majority vote of the twenty-four decided that, by a small margin.
This Trisha was a sly fox, at least when Mother was dabbling in her head. There would be no dabbling at the Prisoner Exchange, could not. Mother promised she would not interfere with her magic - that was at least what Asotos called it. Trisha would be on her own, all her inexperience revealed for the whole world to see. Mihai could only imagine what disasters awaited them once Asotos started toying with the woman.
Maybe this was one of Mother’s tests. She was quite fond of them, especially when her children were unsuspecting. Why, Mihai had been tested just the other day, regarding the kingship. Possibly Mother was again testing her out concerning the new royal position she now possessed. Could be… Whatever, she must prepare just in case she was called upon to pull this Prisoner Exchange out of the fire. Mother would be watching closely. She would be expecting her new king to rescue the moment and save the day.
Mihai finally offered, “Why don’t I, on the morrow, seek out this lady of yours and have a personal, private conversation with her. Maybe she will confess to me what’s troubling her heart so. I might even be able to draw her feelings out so that we… you… will understand better what’s going on with her. I’ll be happy to help.”
Zadar grinned, squeezing Mihai’s hand. “You are so kind to me!” He sadly shook his head. “The men of her world, even Paul, make light of my feelings, at times thinking they are somewhat humorous. To them, my trials are commonplace, part of growing into manhood. I am long since grown into manhood, and I have already loved to the full some of the women of that world, and been loved by them, satisfying their spirits in every way. Commodore CythereaNoah’ha will attest to that fact, she and I sharing love’s intimacies from before the demise of Atlanticia to beyond the days of Moses’ rebellion.”
He stared down at his cold cup of brew. “No, they just don’t understand, can’t relate.” Then he looked deeply into Mihai’s eyes. “But you do, always have. Thank you. Thank you for taking time with me tonight, and for your offer to talk with Trisha. It’s deeply appreciated. If there’s something I can do for you, sister, Love, let me know and I will see it done.”
At that moment there was a quiet commotion at the door. A midshipman was recently reunited with her fellow duty officer who had just come off watch. The two were in the doorway, sensually assisting each other out of uniform, being so absorbed in their romantic interlude they failed to notice Mihai and Zadar. As the swooning midshipman rolled her head back while her lover tenderly played his lips up and down her neck, she spied the two sitting at the table.
“Dear…Dear...” The woman lovingly cooed, as she gently pushed the man away. “We have company. It’s not polite to ignore their presence, you know.”
The man stood back, his smile only growing when seeing who was at the table. After saying his hellos, he took the woman’s hand and entered the room. In a few minutes, with their arms full of culinary delights, the couple departed, offering their friendly goodbyes, the woman’s sensuous laughter echoing back
through the doorway until they exited the Colonnade by way of the boson’s stairs.
The two sat there in silence for some time, Zadar choosing to drink up the cold brew, not wanting to waste it. At length, Mihai broke the silence. “Zadar, Love, is it true you will do anything for me?”
Zadar grinned. “For you, my dear one, my death itself would be a reward if that was what you desired from me.”
Mihai shuddered. “Please, Love, let us not think of death this day. Still… my request may be quite dangerous and troublesome.”
“Anything! Anything at all for you!” He laughed. “Name it. Just name it.”
The smile fled Mihai’s face, replaced with gloom and dread. She spoke in little over a whisper. “My dreams are getting bad, real bad. I am losing my control over them, they even sneaking into my waking hours. I gave my dreams to Tabitha the first night of our journey, it quieting my demon a bit. I believe it was curious, knowing little about the newly arrived creature from another world.”
“I have hidden my soul in Paul’s strength these nights since, but the demon cares not, fears not the man… one day, but not yet. For two nights I have not slept well. I ache from fatigue and stress that attacks my constitution. I cannot afford to be remiss of sharp thought and prowess at this coming exchange. I need a man with great strength and the wiles to use it.”
She leaned close, her eager eyes hungrily searching his. “I sent Paul away to Tabitha’s arms this night, feigning her need for his attention, but truth be told, I did not know what to do. You have arrived as my hero, for I know that you do have mastery over the beast that plays inside my head. Will you journey with me into damnation to fight my demon and its evil horde?”
A look of eager anticipation grew on Zadar’s face. Like a warrior preparing for the contest he became, laughing. “You ask so little. I’ve desired a good fight for some time. Let’s have at it. You and me together? Who can stand against us?!”
Mihai sighed relief, her shoulders slumping as she relaxed to think she might gain a little peaceful sleep. “Thank you, my dearest love.” adding, “Be patient. You have a way with the women. Trisha will one day come to understand the true value of the dream-share.”
“One day…” Zadar dreamily held Mihai’s hand. “But I must also gain mastery over my own understanding and hers… and her ways. Not tonight, though. I will be thinking only of you and our mission together. Let’s be off to conquer the demon’s house.”
“First I must deliver this.” Mihai took up the letter. “Come, my hero, let me deliver this to its owner, and then you, I request, will deliver me up to your passionate dreams.”
Laughing, the two stood, Zadar starting to assist Mihai out of her uniform, she rolling her head with delight as he tenderly kissed her neck. Then it was quickly down the hall to the baggage room and up another set of stairs to Mihai’s sequestered cabin.
* * *