Kalon

Chapter One-Hundred-Twenty-Six: Ukar Nemi Tul - Part One

Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

Solar System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Orarak City, above the planet's surface.

Almost a week has passed since I lost control of myself, the second task will be upon us in the morning. The others are wary of me now, and I do not blame them. The man I beat has since recovered, thanks to the medigel. It is still strange to me that they give it out so freely. He has not spoken to me, nor I him, as Kuwathi rarely apologize. Thoughts of Luna and the kindness that she showed me have played on my mind, telling me that I should apologize, despite my people's way. I do not think this place rewards kindness, I think it crushes it beneath the boot. I see him talking of me in hushed whispers. I know the look on his face too well, a look that means a blade will follow. When the blade will come, I do not know, but I will be ready for it.

Each day that I eat, I feel my body drinking the nutrients. In a month I think I will be recovered, maybe less if I can get more food. On the first day after I beat the man nearly to death, Nekam began giving me part of his ration bar each day. So too did Neeba, but not Nevari, she actually spoke against it. Normally I would have said no, but I need to recover, and what the masters give is more than a normal person needs. If I could only eat my fill, I think I could recover faster. Besides, how many years did I give him a piece of my rations and he still sold me? Like I was garbage, like I did not… a deep breath restores the calm.

I have been pushing myself to the breaking point every day to atone for my failings, learning to channel the rage more effectively now as well. Trying to find the calm within the storm. In my dreams I find myself getting closer and closer to understanding the feeling. I also dream of the Cursed Edict, I catch myself wanting to hold it once more, like a moth to the flame. At times I am sure it is in my hand, but when I look there is nothing.

There is little to do except train, Dargo still will not answer any of our questions, and I find myself wondering if the other Keepers are this withholding. The nerves are fraying for most, but with meditation comes peace. Searching within before searching without.

Our nightly meditation draws to a close as I hear Dargo begin to speak.

"Hunters, you are permitted to sleep. Rest well, tomorrow it begins," he says to us, but he does not leave as he normally does, he lingers, finding my gaze now, he motions me to come.

He has not spoken to me or shown any interest since he marked me in red. He does not speak for a time as he waits for everyone to leave. When we are finally alone, he steps down from the center pedestal. A lone Bipki hovers near us, he waves it off, and reluctantly it moves away.

"Have you figured it out?"

"Figured out what, Keeper?" I ask, not trying to hide the defiant tone.

"Why I push you more than the rest."

"I have not, Keeper," I admit.

"Because within you, I see potential ready to burst forth."

My lip curls into a snarl as venom falls from my lips, "Within you, I see the man who brought those I care for to a place of suffering," his expression does not change, "Surely you know the things that Mallock did to them… now again I see you, here, holding your boot to my people's neck."

"And?"

I blink at him, the callousness of his response surprises me. Especially given how much he pays attention, and how much he teaches those who need his instruction. How can a man that feels the blade song, and tunes it, be devoid of reasonable emotions?

"Your people, the Kuwathi," he says, a bitter tone in the name, "They are not free of sin."

My temper flares, "They are not free at all. How can you judge them? You who sits in luxury and watches our suffering. You are strong, yet you still do nothing when you see injustice."

"Injustice?" he scoffs, shaking his head, "Someday, if you survive that is, you may understand that your people once held the whip. Time does not forget, nor does it forgive, it remembers all cruelty equally."

There are memories behind his words, yet I have never heard of the Kuwathi being oppressors. Even before the fall of our empire, we were not the ones who held the whip. The past he speaks of, it feels like he knows it first hand. Who is this man really? Why does he do the bidding of the Inquisitor? Why is he really here? Surely not to give me a history lesson.

"You have potential," he says now walking in a circle around me, his arms crossed, "It is trapped, held down by the distilled pain you carry for things you cannot control."

I say nothing as I weigh his words, trying to find meaning beneath them.

"You are not a god, you are a man. And a man need only feel the pain of what he can control, or else the madness will consume him."

My jaw clenches, I know that he is not wrong, I have seen the madness in Zarae's visions, but I do not wish to forget the suffering of my people, it feels more like a sin to release it. It is my burden to bear, it is not for him to say if it is worth holding, and it is his people who forced this pain upon us.

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"You must crawl through the darkness to find the light if you wish to bloom," he says to me, now jumping back up on the pedestal.

"I will find the Etheric boundary and I will shatter it, and then I will shatter you."

He laughs heartily, flaring the rage in me again, "It is not possible to break both, you cannot step off one path of mana and move to another. Not even the gods can do such a thing. It is hubris to think you can."

"I have felt it, and I will break them all, then you, then your Inquisitor, then your society, and even your gods," I snarl.

He shakes his head in disappointment, "What you feel is the calm before death, if you try and step into both, it will tear your soul apart. It cannot be done. No matter how much you wish it could."

"We shall see."

He scoffs again, shaking his head, the pedestal of stone begins to rise. He was not entirely wrong, some of his words bore truth. Those words begin resonating in me, giving way to action in my mind, a struggle ensuing on whether to listen or reject.

"Do not die tomorrow, I will feel very foolish if you do," he says with a grin before he disappears into the domed ceiling.

Walking towards my bunk there are many questions on my mind. Nekam and the others wait up for me, questions on their faces.

"What did he want?" Nevari asks me first.

I do not reply to her, nor will I.

"Did he say what the task for tomorrow is?" Nekam asks, there is tension in his voice, he is worried more than he wants us to know.

"He only spoke to give advice," I say, climbing to my bunk ready to sleep.

"Will you heed it?" Neeba asks me pensively, there is an air of concern around him, though he tries to hide it. He has been like this since I lost control and beat the man nearly to death.

"I will try," I say rolling to my side, trying to find sleep, now is not the time for talk. Soon there will be work to be done, fate spins its wheel forward, regardless of how we try to stop it.

***

I stir from my dreams, a welcome relief to be free of them. The lights come on in the bay. Over the intercom, I hear a system announcement.

"Attention – Attention – Attention – System Announcement – Interim Governor Adonius will now speak," the system chimes in its monotone voice. The anthem of the Federation begins playing and a holo appears on all of our wrists of the man, his greasy hair slicked back without a strand out of place.

"Hunters, your next task is upon you. Survive and you may yet achieve glory and redeem yourselves, happy hunting."

Another announcement chimes and the Warden appears before us. We only recently learned her name, Adona. I notice there seem to be bags under her eyes as though she has not slept well. It is subtle, but it is there.

"Hunters, it is a momentous day for you. From this moment forward your holopads will be opened for sponsor communications," she pauses as though wanting to say something more.

There is a wariness in her eyes that does not match the smile that she gives. A hidden sadness lurks even further I feel. Perhaps I am imagining it.

"I cannot emphasize enough to you how important sponsors are, the greater you perform the better your chances of obtaining one."

Perform. The word lingers in my mind like a rotten seed taking root, I am not a peddler of tricks for others' amusement, I will not perform. I will do what I must to survive.

"Good luck hunters, may the gods of the Imperium and the Talum Merchant Federation watch over you."

The gods she says, I do not need the gods she speaks of. Those false gods allow my people to be slaughtered. Even most of the Kuwathi gods I spit at, they are gods that have let their people be enslaved for a thousand years, those are not true gods, not to me. I will only bow to one who sees the suffering and does not turn, else they need not ask me to pray, for I will not bend for anything less.

The transmission ends and a map pops up from my holopad bringing me back to reality, my heart settles now, the calm filling it.

"It begins," Nekam sighs.

He grabs Nevari and Neeba grasping them tightly in a hug, the metal arm they fitted him with hums as he pulls them tighter. His jaw is flexing, and there is water forming around his eyes, but he fights back the tide.

"Ukar Nemi Tul, have strength and survive," he says.

I turn to give them privacy, the words he spoke are uncommonly given by my people, as showing weakness is seen as shameful. In the old tongue, he said… Return to my embrace. Hearing it brings me to a memory of my mother, I push it away, best not to become distracted.

***

I am in the pods that sail the glass tubes now, having been separated. The pod whips quickly through wild twists and turns, my mind is still not able to keep track of them all. It is a labyrinth to me. I come to a chamber and the pod opens up. Inside I realize it is an armory, weapons line the walls, some I am adeptly familiar with, others I hope to soon be. There are two soldiers that stand guard over it, there is a doorway between where they stand on the other side of the room.

"Change your clothes," the first says, his weapon is lowered but ready in his metal-encased hand, and his robotic suit hums as he points to a pile of clothes on the table.

They are like our old ones, tattered and stained, but when I look closely and feel the fabric, I realize these are newly made. Strange, why would they make such efforts to recreate our way and waste fresh thread? I pause, thinking of my time in Tarvashal, perhaps they want people to see us as dirty savages.

The thought passes, and I do as they ask and change. Other questions still rattle in my mind. There is a mask on the table, a thin crude iron mask with spots of rust. Looking at the soldier he nods. I place the mask on my face, my vision less obstructed than I first thought it might be.

"Select your weapons," the second says motioning his arm to the walls.

Moving to the walls, I look carefully for anything I can use, I study their armor in the side of my vision, carefully so they do not see me gazing directly. It is different from the ones the Arasha city soldiers wore. It does not have gaps in the armor that a blade can find. Looking at the wall I see the blades are also crude like the mask, but the edges are extremely sharp, a drop of blood from my finger the proof. These will be useful, I do not know what I will need, so I grab an assortment of them, carrying what I can. The guards give each other a look, seeing how much I carry but they do not stop me.

"Proceed," the first says pointing to the door between them.

As I pass them, I inspect one of their armor's backside, there is no access plate I can see. Seeing no flaws in their mechanized suits, I walk through the doorway. My bag thuds to the floor as I move into yet another pod. Vek, so many movements, it is impossible to remember it all. I must try harder, this place will not be my tomb. I do not trust the masters' words nor the tasks they will give.

I hear a rumbling above as my pod approaches the end of the tube. The rumbling becomes clearer to me when the pod opens fully. It sounds like the cheering of a large crowd, but why? How does this relate to the task? My anger simmers as I begin to realize why they are here. To watch firsthand as my people suffer.

The thunderous motions become louder from above, and dust trickles onto my cloak and I rub it coarsely between my fingers, sandstone. Why would any of the master's cities have sandstone? Even though I know little of their architecture, it seems strange.

They are chanting something, but I cannot understand the words, the stone of the small chamber around me muffles it. There is a single metal door before me. Rays of light around the edges of the frame where the door has rusted over time, daylight perhaps. Moving closer to peer in the cracks my eyes adjust to the light. The first thing I see is sand, it looks like the barren surface of a desert planet, but it can't be, we are on one of the master's cities high in the sky, are we not? Then my eyes move upwards, farther and farther until I behold the entirety of it, my eyes growing wide as they take it in. Sekat…

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