There exists two kinds of Men: those who believe in Fate, and those who are defined by their choices. Both kinds suffer from the obscurity of their actions. Was it Destiny that called them to their course, or was it an inclination of their indwelling nature? Dyiij, one who really knew the difference, observed him from her place amid her companions:
Without so much as a second thought Rollond rushed into the burning building. By the time he realized he was still in his favorite coat, the ire of stupidity overwhelmed him. He ducked into one of the five bathrooms on the second floor, and jumped into a bowl-shaped tub full of water.
The one thing he figured he would have outgrown, in 238 years, was his immediate impulse to rush face-first into danger. After all, the mansion was on fire, and he was wearing his favorite coat. Not that he cared about the groan of the walls, or the sizzle, pop and crack of the wooden beams. Nor did he care if the rest of his clothing turned to ash. But, still, why? Why didn't he stop to take off his favorite coat?
It was too late to go back. He held his drenched sleeve over his face, jumped out of the tub, and ran down the hall. He passed several rooms, and a number of corridors leading deeper into the maze-like mansion, until an off-key, high-pitched cry snatched his attention. He followed the howling to a room just beyond the master bedroom, and found what he was looking for:
The nijuan wailed shrilly, desperately tugging at the bars of the cage. It was both reprehensible and understandable why people wanted to keep kyusoakin children as pets: they were adorable.
When he saw Rollond he laid his ears back, and his face shifted to an expression of despair. He didn't like humans; Kyusoas rarely liked humans.
Normally Rollond would go look for the key to the cage. Instead he bent the bars open. His abnormal strength was something he didn't want the townsfolk of Trenthoni knowing about. He reached in, and the nijuan shrank back. "Asch suulaani," Rollond said: 'Come with me.'
The nijuan perked his ears, surprised to hear his native language out of a human's mouth. "Tsche!" he said: 'Yes!' He climbed up Rollond's side, clutched the man's hips with his hand-like feet, and tightly wrapped his tail around one of the loops in Rollond's jeans. The nijuan was twelve inches tall, and weighted a little over two and a half pounds. He fit snugly in Rollond's zipped up coat.
Rollond turned to go back the way he came, but the groan of warping steel support beams, and the snap of wood stopped him. The ceiling crashed to the floor just outside the room. The next three levels were singing with some tell-tale signs. Not only that, but Rollond was on the second floor, and it wanted to give out.
In an instance of primal instinct, he folded his arm over his face, and leapt through one of the windows in the master bedroom. He didn't quite plan the fall right, as the second story of the mansion was higher than he anticipated. He swore as he thudded on the lawn. Thankfully he landed on his right side, and the nijuan on his left was safe.
The mansion cried something like a death rattle as its floors collapsed, and finally, its walls caved in. Perhaps that immediate impulse of his wasn't always a bad thing. He got up and shuffled off the lawn.
Outside the shriek of sirens drowned out most other sounds, warning the townsfolk to the presence of danger. Searchlights converged on a towering Jaqobu. The Jaqobu was a Kyusoa transformed into a beast. In this alternate form it resembled a gigantic camel, except that its torso was hump-less and slender. Its head was like a jackal's head: slim snout, and long, pointed ears. It had dim, gray eyes that flickered statically — exactly like the nijuan's.
The Jaqobu pranced through the streets, deliberately smacking the rooftops off of buildings with its hand-like paws. It appeared that the town of Trenthoni was under siege, but the Jaqobu wasn't interested in humans. It tore the floor from the top story and scrutinized the level underneath. It was digging through buildings, looking for someone.
Rollond ran into the thick dark. He stopped at Trenthoni's town square, near where the Jaqobu stood. "Hey, you!" he shouted at it.
The Jaqobu's flickering eyes were unnerving, even for Rollond. The high beast stepped over businesses, bringing that execrable mist with it. The beast stopped across the street from Rollond and craned its neck down to look at him.
Rollond stared the Jaqobu down, as he unzipped his coat, revealing the nijuan that clung to his side.
The beast's ears turned forward, surprised to see the nijuan that clung to Rollond. "Abydni?" the Jaqobu asked.
Abydni, the nijuan, stared at the Jaqobu. Then in a burst of excitement, he hopped off Rollond, scurried over to the beast and leapt onto its snout. "Paija!" 'Father!' He latched onto his father's neck, buried his face in the Jaqobu's fur and nuzzled him furiously.
The scream of the sirens subsided. The townspeople of Tenthoni poked their heads through their doors, and peered out their windows, as the overhead lights focused on Abydni and his father. Jaqobus weren't mere beasts.
Rollond had known this from the start. A sense of elation flickered within him, knowing that the two were reunited. "I want everyone to take note," Rollond said to the townspeople. He plucked Abydni off of his father, and held him over his head for everyone to see. "THESE are NOT pets! They grow up and become THOSE!" He motioned towards the Jaqobu.
The father stepped towards Rollond. He laid flat on his belly, a sign of respect. "Aunii chaas," he said: 'Thank you.'
Rollond nodded. He started for the hotel he was staying at, the one on the northwestern end of Trenthoni. But a tiny pair of hands tugged on his pants leg, and he stopped. Abydni looked up at Rollond, his face beaming. "Vyllen aunai schu!" he said: 'I will see you again!' He rubbed the top of his head on Rollond's shin, an endearing gesture of affection. Then he scampered up his father's leg, clung to the nape of his neck, and they were off.
Rollond didn't stay to watch them go. As he passed through the streets, he heard whispers. The people, he noticed, shrank back. Even his shadow seemed to make them cringe.
Trenthoni was a town where everyone knew everything about everyone, except for Rollond. The most the townsfolk knew about him was that he hardly spoke, he had no residence of his own, no family, and he frequented the Ischiana waterfall northwest of the town.
But now they knew he also spoke Tswaa'ii.
As soon as he walked into the hotel lobby, the air went still, and the silence was thick, save for some shuffling and scoffing. The receptionist ducked into the employee room as Rollond stepped to the counter.
After a little while, the clerk came over to him. "Sir, you can't stay here anymore."
Rollond arched his brows. "Why?"
"You're not normal," the clerk said, keeping his tone low. "And you're unnerving the guests."
He glanced over his shoulder. The people in the bar and lounge were staring at him. He could tell they were tense, as the ladies were all corralled to the far end of the bar and lounge, while the men were standing near the lobby entrance. They wanted to jump Rollond, if he dared to go their way.
He wondered how many of them he could handle with just his left fist. He snorted at the idea:
Thirty men go at him simultaneously; twenty-eight end up with broken backs — two were left to clean up the mess he turned the others into.
The thought made him grin, although he despised senseless brawling. "Can I get my things?" he asked.
"Oh, absolutely!"
He was expecting a key, to go to his room, and get what few things he had. Until the clerk came back with a bag and dumped his possessions on the counter.
"Thank you," Rollond sighed. He stuffed his knife in his pants pocket, put on his gloves, and his old, tattered-leather bracers. Then he left for the Ischiana falls.
It was a half night's trek. The townspeople were interested in his visits to the Ischiana waterfall. What exactly did he do there so often anyway? No one would follow him to find out.
When he got there he stripped down to his pants, and sat on a boulder smothered by moss underneath the pouring water. The warm water from the ho
t spring over the cliff rushed down his back. It helped him focus. He concentrated on the pristine, rolling waters in order to go inward into his mind.
The formless dark of his thoughts surrounded him, but he was not alone. He could sense his brother's presence. It was something as simple, and subtle, as the crisp rush of hushed wind replacing the sensation of the pounding waterfall on his shoulders. He went deeper into himself, and as he did, he became little more than a disembodied voice:
My brother stops before me. He sits on his hinds like a complacent sharr, like the little winged bear-cat. I almost know what he wants to say from the way he looks at me. Not only that, but I can sense the stir of his thoughts. I can't tell what he's thinking word-for-word because he's a Kyusoa, and I'm a Man. I think in words, in Gyuton. He thinks in abstract concepts.
It's like trying to decipher the meaning of the color pink and blue splotches of something that'd look like an artist's representation of wind.
'That was crazy,' he says at last.
'It was a necessary evil, and you know it. Or else why did you do it for me? I didn't force you to.'
He pauses to think. It is the truth, I didn't take control of him like I could have, making his body move and do as I will. It's a mutual respect between the two of us, not to force our will on one another. Besides, Ashenzsi is so passive I doubt he'd ever try something like that with me. The only time I bother to is with his express permission.
But sometimes I wish I didn't have a sense of honor. I'll admit there are days where I want to step outside of my body and become part of him. When he's wild and free, his talons clawing effortlessly into the dirt, and his body flows through the wind. It's a kind of freedom I'll never experience.
I envy him.
I wish… I weren't… human.
Ugh, to think these things. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth. My brother says nothing. He seems to look beyond me, at the water. I stop to share his vision:
A woman stands on the bank.
Distracted from his thoughts, Rollond jolted. The beat-down of the water, the sensation of wet-heat, the electric ripple along his skin overtook him all at once. When he re-acclimated to his senses, he noticed a woman standing on the bank of the waterfall's basin.
Her hands were folded in front of her, and her head was cocked to one side, studying him. "Meditating?" she asked.
To an untrained eye, certainly. But Rollond wasn't about to say that. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice gruff.
"Ielase Ankuseth," she said.
Rollond looked at her funny. Ankuseth? He recognized that name.
"You are Rollond Alekzandyr, right?"
"You've got the wrong man," Rollond said.
"Of course I do."
"What do you want?" Rollond grunted. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what it would take for her to leave him alone.
"Work for me," she said.
He shook his head. "I work for no one."
"You'll want to for me," she said, her voice ringing with confidence. "I saw what you did to save Trenthoni. Although, we both know it wasn't for the town, per-se." Ielase maintained Rollond's hardened, defensive gaze. Her own stare was a look of anticipation, not because of what she knew and inferred. "I know you love Kyusoas. That's why I need you."
When his face finally softened, she could see the fringes of rejection. "Look, I —"
"Just come and see, please." She wouldn't let him finish. "Stay one night, then decide."
He rubbed his temples. Ielase wasn't going to let him go easy. "Listen, even if I said yes, I don't know if my brother would be okay with it."
"Your brother?"
Rollond motioned to Ashenzsi.
He perked his ears and canted his head at Ielase, not speaking because he knew humans didn't like it. As far as he was concerned he was just another beast to her. That is, until she waved at him.
"Ts-tsche… au?" She wasn't sure she said it right.
He grinned and nodded. "Tsche. Where have you learned?"
"My father has many kyusoas. One of them is really important to me. Which is part of why I want your…" Brother. The thought never crossed her mind until now:
Rollond was a man, and Ashenzsi, well. It was amiss. How were they related?
It was true that they both had similar facial features: the narrow shape of their eyes, with black rims, as if both of them bothered to wear eyeliner; high cheek bones, to name a couple.
She put the thought aside.
"We're a package, Ashenzsi and I. Assume I did accept your offer, what would happen to him?"
"Well…" Her expression became grim. "You'd basically sell him into slavery. But I could make sure that he stays under your care. Maybe it's better for you to see what you'd be dealing with first before we get into the finer details."
The two of them exchanged glances. "Fine," Rollond huffed. "A single night, no more." He watched her face become aglow with, well, he wasn't sure what. Hope? Triumph? Too much face oil? His guts churned, preparing to start the woeful cycle of regret.
As he went for his shirt, Ielase tapped her first finger to her lips. She regarded him. He was an easy creature to get infatuated with, as he was a tall, very well-built man man whose arms, chest and abs screamed raw physical power. He was pale, his skin being the color of cornsilk, and his hair was of the purest ivory white.
That was part of why he used to be called The Ivory Prince.
But as she kept looking, she noticed there was something off about Rollond. The hem of his shirt, as he slipped his arms into the sleeves, drew her attention to the thick black markings on his chest. They ran from his pecs down past the waistline of his drenched pants.
The markings were Tswaa'ii, and said something about worth. She was inclined to ask him, but as he folded his coat over his arm and looked at her, she grinned.
"Does your father know you're out here alone?" he asked.
"Not exactly," she chuckled. "Why? What could possibly happen?"
"Someone could shank you in the eye," he said, jiggling the pocket his knife was in.
"That would be unfortunate," Ielase said, her smile ever broader. "Cou would take issue with that, right Cou?"
There was a whistle and bleep. Bluish-white waves of light shifted through the air, and gradually the three lengthsome legs of Cou appeared. Ielase stood in the center of them. She had come all this way by excursion sentinel, the Crawler. When she was on foot, Cou cloaked itself and followed her.
If anyone tried to stab her, Cou would've killed them before they were within an arm's reach.
Now Rollond understood her confidence.
Cou let down the bluish cone of light, inviting them in. There was room for three people inside Cou: three pull-out cots, a touch-top desk with holography capabilities, a small kitchen, a relaxation space with suede cloth lounge seats, and the rest was storage.
Rollond sat in one of the lounge seats, and stared at one of the display panels designed to mimic a window, while Ashenzsi sauntered towards the cots. He pulled one out and lay down on it, just as Ielase was coming in.
Cou closed its hatch, rose up, and started north.
She plopped down across from Rollond, not sure what to make of his distant visage. "It's three days ride to my father's estate."
When he finally glanced at her the very abysmal depth of his cobalt eyes unnerved her. "You're a crass girl. To think you're okay with spending three days in the presence of two males you don't know."
"I trust we'll want the same things."
"You don't know what I want. I doubt you're sure about what you're doing, either."
Ielase's face flushed. She scowled and curled her fingers, being sure to keep her hands in her lap. "I know what my motivations are."
Rollond gave her a quizzical glance.
She leaned towards him, meeting his mocking gaze with unbridled conviction. "Love," she said, her voice dripping with earnest.
Rollond broke out laughing.
Ielase grimaced and sulked
in her seat as he got up and headed back for the bunks. It was going to be a long voyage home.
Melvas, the 23rd day in the month of Bylgas.
By the time three days passed, Ielase was elated to see the area-distortion of a transparent barrier, like watching heatwaves flitter towards the clouds. The smile on her lips was genuine as she watched her father's estate glimmer against the burgundy and pink evening sky.
Cou chimed as it crossed into one of the southern enclaves.
Her home, she figured, would surely impress Rollond. "Isn't it magnificent?" she asked. But when she looked over at him, her cheeky grin went flat.
He was absolutely stoical, even as he peered at the displays. The entire territory was domesticated land. It was teeming with imported fruit trees, and crops of all kinds. Most notable was the blue-violet, black, and pearl colored corn-like faafah.
Yet none of this bought so much as a grunt from him.
An electric twinge of vexation surged through her stomach and tingled in the tips of her fingers. "You're impossible. Nothing incites your interest; it's as if two centuries of work is nothing to you —"
He glanced at her, and she shut up. "I assume your father isn't aware that you're bringing me?"
"It's complicated." She evened her tone. "I told my brother to inform him that I went for cheese. He doesn't know I've brought someone. It's good because it means you won't have to hand over your brother right away."
No one noticed the slight thud of Cou marching onto one of the freight stages in the Crawler dock. The stages were metal panels marked with three circles, one for each foot. Cou aligned its feet on the circles, opened its hatch and let down its light.
"Follow me." She lead them to the warp.
When they materialized within the estate, an unusual quiet dominated the air. Barely a soul trekked the halls of the five wings, because, save for the few who refused to come, the temple was in full attendance.
The absence of people added to the solemn magnificence of the estate. Towering gilded statues stood poised and regal at the mouths of high-arching halls leading away from the central junction of the estate.
Right away, there was something to be known about Ridd Ankuseth: he had a commodity fetish.
The most prominent statue was the one of Ridd himself, standing in the center of the junction. He had two sons: Rylieq, and Allondt. None of their statues were as tall as Ridd's, but they were also gilded with gold.
Ridd valued his sons more than his daughters. This much was evident because the smallest of the statues was a silver one of Ielase, and instead of being depicted as standing tall, shoulders squared, and bearing warrior-esque paraphernalia, she was given a feminine pose: half laying on her side like a leisurely cat.
Ashenzsi stopped to soak it all in, and his brother slowed to wait for him.
Neither one paid any attention to Ielase, who was a good ways into one of the halls, until she stopped and cleared her throat. "Don't fall behind. It's easy to get lost," she said.
He glanced at his brother. The two exchanged nods, and he fell in-step beside Rollond, pacing himself on all fours to neither go ahead nor lag behind.
The halls all looked the same, like a repeating texture in a holographic maze that did little to aid the player. There were no signs, and although the decorations were marginally different, there was no telling whether the halls at some point bled into one another.
Finally, she stopped and opened a door to one of the guest rooms. "You'll be staying here." She motioned for them to enter.
They stepped in.
The quarters were like an apartment. It had everything but a functional kitchen: two beds, dressers, closets, and balcony; bathroom, tub and shower, complete with a wall-sized vanity mirror; and the kitchenette on the other side of what served as a living room.
The door slid shut behind them.
'This one is mine!' Rollond declared. He sprawled on one of the beds, but grimaced at the feel of the comforter and sheets under him. It was no different than the hotel bed. A foreign resting place, that brought no comfort or satisfaction, only a place to lay down. He lifted his head to spy on Ashenzsi.
His brother didn't care what he slept on, so long as it wasn't a hard floor. A strange bed was no different than a pile of rags. He was a humble thing, and didn't seem to mind it at all. 'Are you really going to work for this uunanifha?'
'Ielase? Pff — no. I figure get a good rest out of it and be on my way. I told her, I don't work for anyone.'
'Then why don't we just leave?'
Rollond opened his mouth to speak, but a voice cut him off:
— Because it won't be that simple. The voice of an Alyi wasn't like most other voices. It wasn't perceived with ears, but as Dyiij spoke, Rollond and Ashenzsi heard her words in their hearts.
She first appeared on the balcony as a formless shape of iridescent, translucent tentacles, hovering midair. But as she wafted against the wind, drawing near to the glass doors, she took on a more human shape.
As Dyiij manifested herself as a tall, bronze-skinned woman with a wild, reddish-brown afro, it could be said that Rollond and Ashenzsi were unique individuals. Because Alyis don't appear to just anyone.
— Two hundred thirty-eight years and you're like lost children. Do you even know why you're here?
"Because I agreed to stay the night and see what Ielase wants." Rollond stepped out onto the balcony, but didn't sit. Instead he leaned against the guard rail and crossed his arms, giving her a hard-lined look.
She smiled at him. Her eyes were hollow, the same as staring into the depth of the night sky. Yet in those endless, empty sockets, there were splashes of light and splotchy plumes of color. She made Rollond's skin ripple.
— It's ironic she finds and brings you two back. Ielase may want what is best for her father's slaves. But there are things going on here that are a blemish on my world. It disgusts me clear to the core of my being to see the sacrifice of Kyusoakin as an act of veneration to a stupid, damnable 'god.'
— Mokallai's presence is thick and strong here. Which is why I have come. I want to make you into an unstoppable force, the very beginning of Destiny's undoing. But, I will only operate on your behalf if you give me your willing cooperation.
"You know, I find it funny how you need my cooperation. Aren't you powerful?"
— I am. This is not about me, though. It's about you, all of you, and if I force my agenda on anyone, how does that make me any better than the creature I seek to destroy? She noted his grimace.
"It wouldn't."
— Precisely. Look, if you let Destiny rule you, you're as good as dead. I'm offering you Choice, Freedom of Will. Whichever way you go about doing it, you will become great. That much is my portion of the promise. All I ask is that you do not forget your word to me.
"I've been having second thoughts about you, Dyiij. You didn't tell me that Alekzandrya would fall regardless of what I chose."
— Yes, I didn't. She bobbed her head. There are certain things that will not be avoided. The destruction of your birth nation was one of them.
"But I thought… you would —"
— Use you to stop it? She chuckled. I could have. But that place belongs to your father. Long before you were born I swore to him that it will remain his, and that I reaffirmed before the nation went asunder. Regardless, I've done this much for you: you're still alive and well in your prime, and you will never live to be Neisam.
Rollond scrunched his face, trying to figure out if she meant that he'd die. He slowly nodded. She had a point, he was not the Neisam of his birth nation — the man who governed the 44 kings of Alekzandrya's tribes, like an emperor.
— The atrocities of the past aren't what I'm here for, she said, her tone serious. Rollond, I want to make a hero out of you, a man like no other on the surface of this planet. Will you allow me that?
He sighed, but nodded. "I can't see why I wouldn't."
— Then I have your cooperation, good. She grinned, cross
ed one leg over the other and laced her fingers over her knee. You're going to need me to achieve things here.
"And what, tote your name around like some warding trinket?"
— No, I am not a charm to ward off bad spirits.
He scoffed. "What good are you then?"
— Plenty good, and I'll prove that to you. She got up from the lounge and stood next to him, leaning on the balcony rail with him. Trust in your strengths. You will know what to do when the situation calls for it.
Her human form turned into a blazing, piebald, shapeless brilliance. She was an Aelythian Being, a Spirit. Her colors wafted through the wind like plumes of smoke.
— Your passion is here. Embrace what you are within, she said, then she was gone.
He rubbed his chin, nearly void of the desire to ponder his situation. He sauntered into the apartment, glanced at Ashenzsi, then retired to his room. There he stripped off his filthy clothes and resigned himself to the empty comfort of crisp, clean sheets, a comforter, and a pillow so fluffy his head sunk into it. Sleepy, his every muscle went flaccid.
Property.
Eiynvas, the 24th day in the month of Bylgas;
What occurred the one day Rollond agreed to stay;
Spring of the 691st year into the Second Epoch of Dyjian.