Chapter 9

While Maranu, Sifa, and Lexandar fought to protect human independence on Tarrus, other troubles began to take root in the universe. The Great Black Dragon had returned. Graymor had long toiled in torment as the progenitor of all malevolence in the universe. The burden of all of humanity’s sins, as well as the sins of all sentient life in the cosmos, forever weighed heavily on his soul. The only thing that allowed Graymor a small sliver of sanity was his relationship to Balvor, his sibling and his mate. In the recesses of his deranged mind, the humans stole Balvor’s love from him, filling his heart with a need for revenge. Balvor cried out for Graymor in the dark reaches of space, but he refused to heed her call. Graymor began to rally his and Balvor’s children scattered throughout the stars, the Twelve Celestial Beasts who take on the forms of animals and draw their power from the elements. Graymor told his children how the humans defiled their sacred home and dared to capture their mother. Graymor even told of how the humans had been granted the full powers of Elemency, a gift that had not been bestowed since the firstborn race of the Dragons whom the Celestial Beasts considered as children. The Celestial Beasts were enraged, their roars shaking all the suns in the cosmos. Balvor arrived too late to quell their anger.

“Did you really make this Boxty without a synthesizer?” Amelia asked suspiciously, her green eyes glinting with mirth beneath her glasses.

Eramar nodded as he carefully cut a piece of the potato pancake for himself, savoring the taste as he took a bite, the pleasing aroma of the warm meal wafting through his nostrils. “Made it myself in my own kitchen without any artificial help. I have to admit, I never really enjoyed these traditional Irish dishes the way you do, but they taste so much better when I cook them from scratch.”

Amelia arched an eyebrow at him, her mouth twitching up into a half-smile that was just as beautiful as the day Eramar had met her. “Really? No AI help whatsoever?”

Eramar shrugged. “I consulted the holoweb as a reference, but everything else I did by hand. No robots. No synthesizers. Just a good old-fashioned homemade meal. It was quite hard, I’ll have you know. It took me many hours before I got the recipe just right, but I’d like to think that my dish would put even that Leprechaun restaurant of yours to shame. Of course, I will defer to your opinion, having more experience in potato cuisine than I.”

Amelia giggled, a sliver of her old, cheerful self bubbling to the surface once more. “I think you may be a little biased. The reason the meal tastes better to you is because you made it yourself. You put a lot of work into the Boxty, so naturally, you garner more satisfaction than if someone else made it.”

Eramar chuckled as he sampled his drink, which complemented the rich flavors and mild spices of the fried Boxty (in his own humble opinion as an amateur chef). “I take it from your candor that I probably shouldn’t quit my day job any time soon.”

“I’m only teasing, Eramar,” she said laughingly as she took another bite and dabbled at her chin with her napkin. “Honestly, it’s really good. I doubt O’Connell will be hiring you on his staff, but it’s a decent first attempt, all things considered. The seasonings are balanced, and the dish was cooked well at just the right temperature. Truly, dear, I’m impressed.”

Eramar allowed himself a private smile. Amelia was sometimes overly generous in her praise. Perhaps that too was resurfacing. It could be a good sign.

“And the Vodka?” he inquired carefully as he picked up the bottle to refill her silver Sterling Goblet. “It was also made from potatoes. I knew you’d appreciate that, though I didn’t brew it myself as I spent most of my time perfecting the Boxty.”

Amelia took a small sip and pursed her lips as she considered. She was always careful with alcohol, never one to indulge too exuberantly. “I’d say it came out well, but it doesn’t really complement the Boxty in my opinion. Vodka is usually better with saltier seafoods, such as salmon, mackerel, or even eel. It could be my own bias coming to the surface, but I think I like the Boxty better ... perhaps because I know how you painstakingly crafted it just for me.”

Eramar rendered a bow of respect with a dramatic flourish of his hand. “Again, I must defer to the master.”

They both shared a laugh as they raised their glasses for a brief toast. The goblets made a satisfying clinking! noise. Eramar took a moment to just admire Amelia and their idyllic surroundings for a moment. He and Amelia were alone in a bare, circular room of white crystal with soft lighting so as not to detract from the candlelight. Given what he now knew of her past, it was agreed that a setting such as this - which was reminiscent of Corinth - might be conducive for her mental health. They sat at a simple round wooden table with a white tablecloth and a yellow-waxed candle in the center. The porcelain plates and glistening silverware were fashioned after eating utensils of the Lucky Leprechaun, Amelia’s favorite restaurant. The fried potato dish was also a favorite of hers, though this was the first time Eramar had made it by hand.

Amelia herself was as breathtaking as ever. Mid-length ginger hair. Short at five foot two. A girlish figure. And a slender, pale face that could make a man die with longing with her heart-shaped lips and her button nose. Her glasses only complemented her bewitching good looks, giving her an air of mysticism and intellectualism. As per Eramar’s request, she wore a simple but elegant red dress that outlined her womanly figure to perfection. He also wore his dark red dress robes instead of his armor for the occasion. He wanted this to feel like one of their date nights from when they were courting. When she agreed to the dinner and the dress, he started to hope that perhaps things might turn out differently this time.

With their meals nearly finished, and their drinks halfway drained, Eramar reasoned that now was as good a time as any to start. He folded his hands in front of himself and spoke carefully. “Amelia ... may I still call you that ... even though that’s not your real name?”

Amelia appeared casual as she nodded, washing down her last bite of Boxty with a sip from her drink. “It’s the name you knew me by, so I’d prefer it if you continued calling me that.”

Eramar smiled fondly. “Very well. Amelia. I was wondering if you could tell me what you remember about your time at the Monastery when you were called Cynthia Arguat ... before you...”

Amelia’s face went strangely stoic. “Before I was captured by the Shadow Order and tortured into becoming a Mage?”

Eramar chose to show as little reaction as possible as he said simply, “Yes.”

Amelia’s voice became somber as she said dazedly, “I ... I remember many hours of prayer in the grand hall on Corinth. I remember learning to commune with the Lord Caretaker and wield Light Elemency after receiving the blessing in one of the hidden sanctums. I spent many days traveling throughout Galsin to listen to sermons from both the High Priestess and the Prime Minister. After rising through the ranks, I came to know them both personally. I eventually earned the rank of Priestess, becoming one of Lady Lioness’ advisors.”

Amelia rubbed her necklace, fingering the blue, tear shaped crystal that hung around her neck on a silver glowing chain. “I even remember the day that Zanderius gave me this gem just before I was sent away from Galsin to do the Lord Caretaker’s will throughout the Empire. I started doing missionary work, using Holy Water to cure the sick and ease discomfort. And I ... I went on joint missions with Elementals, helping them weed out Mystics by sensing Dark Water. Creating spells of Light Elemency on worlds throughout the outer territories to ward off the influences of Shadow Elemency.”

As her hand dropped to the counter, her eyes went downcast as she said softly, “And I’ve also started to remember more of my time with Cornelius.”

Eramar had to look away at hearing that name. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve reacted differently had he known ahead of time who Cornelius Humphrey was to Amelia. He hated the bastard out of principle, but something about it all still bugged Eramar. The timing in which Humphrey showed up was too convenient. Amelia was trying to commit suicide. She was trying to force Eramar to kill her. Though Humphrey had attacked her, in a way, his actions may have saved her life in the end. She was so shocked after the whole thing that she collapsed, and Eramar was able to subdue her without taking her life.

I wonder if that was your true intent, Humphrey, thought Eramar to himself. I wonder if you actually meant to save her. Did you really love her as much as I do, you sick, Mystic, son of a bitch?

Before Eramar could inquire further, Amelia suddenly perked right up, a strange smile quirking her lips. “You know, this dinner ... it’s really nice. It reminds me of how you used to cook for me a few times. It wasn’t always this elaborate, but whenever the occasion did occur, it usually meant that you were fishing for a reward of some kind afterwards.”

Her lips pursed into a suggestive smile as her head cocked to the side in a subtle sign of innuendo.

Eramar couldn’t help the chuckle that rose out of him, recalling the fun times they had together. Amelia was hardly the only woman he ever courted in his long life as an Elemental, but she was by far the most memorable ... in more ways than one.

“And here I thought I was being so subtle during those times,” he said nostalgically.

She leaned forward ever so slightly to rub his gloved hand from across the table, speaking in a sultry voice. “You know, I could be persuaded to reward you once again ... if we had access to my old apartment. We had such good times together, Eramar. Could we not rekindle that once more?”

Eramar sensed the slightest shift in her posture, and he knew it wasn’t entirely centered around sex appeal. He kept his features neutral as he said, “As tempting as that offer sounds, my dear, I’m afraid I must decline for now. Perhaps we can attend to that another time ... after the doctors clear you.”

Amelia gave the brightest smile yet, showing off her perfect white teeth. Then with that same sweet smile on her face, she grabbed her knife and promptly stabbed Eramar in his remaining organic eye.

Eramar, who had been expecting this, instantly raised his psions throughout his body, using his Phasing ability to change the density of his molecules. Normally, this would entail Ghosting through solid objects by shifting the frequency of his atoms. However, if done in reverse, it made Eramar virtually indestructible using a technique called Hardening (though at a severe cost of mobility, making it near impossible to attack and Harden at the same time). The long, steak knife shattered near the hilt after piercing Eramar’s eye, though his pupil suffered no damage whatsoever. The sensation for Eramar was like the wisp of a light breeze against his pupil. Despite the knife breaking, Amelia raised it again, intent on using what remained of her weapon as her face contorted into a snarl of hatred.

Eramar teleported behind her in a flash of yellow light, wresting the knife from her grasp as she struggled against his superior strength and fighting expertise. Amelia grunted as they wrestled for a moment, the plates and drinks clattering to the ground as they jostled the table in their conflict. Amelia’s Elemental powers were being suppressed, so she was no stronger than a Pureskin, but she still gave Eramar a good tussle nonetheless as she whacked his face several times and tried to bite his fingers. He didn’t strike her back as he continued to hold her from behind, silently conveying the message that she couldn’t hurt him and that he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“You killed Cornelius!” she screamed as she spat in his eye and continued to struggle uselessly. “You killed the man I really love! I hate you! I’ll always hate you!”

Eramar’s heart sank at Amelia’s words, but it wasn’t the first time he heard them. She tried to claw at his eyes, but he simply Hardened so that he received no damage. Eventually, some Light Monks appeared, walking through the crystal walls using their Light Elemency which was attuned to the infrastructure of the building. Light Monks couldn’t normally walk through walls, but because the building was a special design, they had free reign to come and go as they wished using the right frequency of Light Elemency. The walls glowed white as three human male Light Monks stepped through, appearing concerned with their hands folded into their long sleeves.

Eramar glared at them as he continued to restrain the enraged Amelia, flaring his psions so that his mechanical eye began glowing bright orange. “Stay back!” he said angrily.

The Monks complied as they held their ground. They knew better than to interfere with Eramar at this point since the last one who tried got a broken nose for his troubles. Amelia tried to pry off Eramar’s grip, but his mechanical hand was too strong for her flesh-based strength. She eventually realized the futility of her struggle as she broke down into sobs, her body going limp.

“I’m sorry,” she cried between sobs as she held her face. “It’s the Mage in me. The Mage made me do it. You should’ve killed me. Why didn’t you kill me then?”

Eramar cradled her, trailing his fingers through her hair and whispering soothing words of love. “It’s alright. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Another Monk soon stepped through the glowing walls of white, Hannah Lioness herself. The other three white-robed figures stepped aside for her, bowing and putting their fingers to their foreheads in the sign of the Caretaker.

“Cynthia,” said Hannah sympathetically. “You know we won’t hurt you like the Mages did. You know that you’re safe here.”

Amelia continued sobbing as she rubbed her eyes. “Hannah ... I’m no longer the Cynthia you knew. I’m just a hellish creature of the Shadow Realm that the High Mage left behind.”

“You know that’s not true. The light is offered freely to all the Caretaker’s children who seek it ... that includes you,” said Hannah lovingly.

Eramar wasn’t sure how he felt about the Monastery’s more religious methods for rehabilitation, but Amelia had shown real progress since the Monks had started working with her, so he wasn’t about to question the process.

Amelia focused on Hannah for a little while. For a moment, it seemed that they might have a breakthrough. Then with a sudden burst of strength, she broke from Eramar’s grasp to grab the remaining knife from the floor. Eramar thought she might attack him again, so he was quite surprised when she tried to use the knife to cut off the necklace that hung around her neck. She had apparently figured out that the suppressant rope that contained her powers was imbued in the necklace. However, Thisimius had recently been cooking up suppressant ropes that weren’t so easy to break, so Eramar wasn’t surprised when the knife snapped in half in place of the chained necklace. Amelia growled as she held what remained of the steak knife before turning the blade to her throat. Hannah raised her hand to put Amelia asleep with the power of Light Elemency, but Eramar stopped her with a upraised finger. He knew that Amelia wouldn’t really take her own life. Somehow, he knew it for certain. This was the reason he had allowed her near potential weapons, to test out this moment.

Amelia kept the knife’s blade mere centimeters from her throat in her shaking hands, but she didn’t cut herself. Eramar knew they could heal her if she did cut herself, but he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“Amelia,” said Eramar calmly as he held out his hand. “Give me the knife.”

Amelia said nothing, her hands quivering as she brandished the knife to her windpipe.

“We both know that you won’t do it. You could’ve said the kill phrase months ago when I first arrested you. You could’ve taken your own life just like Galzar did when we captured him. That means you want to live. Deep down ... you know that you want to live.”

Amelia didn’t respond, her face hidden from view by the bangs of her hair. Eramar almost started to think he had made a miscalculation and nearly signaled Hannah to put her to sleep. However, with a huff of frustration, Amelia handed the knife to Eramar. When he had hold of the blade, he threw it away, hearing it clatter loudly in a far corner of the spherical room. Eramar breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like they might be making progress at last. He nodded at Hannah.

The High Priestess raised her hand again, sending a small glowing white mist to the necklace around Amelia’s throat. The necklace absorbed the mist and began glowing white with the power of Light. Since the necklace was connected to Amelia’s psions, any Monk with Light Elemency could influence her bodily functions. Amelia teetered, looking dazed. Eramar caught her before she could hit the ground. He held her protectively in his arms as he stood up. She looked up at him tiredly. Hannah had allowed her to stay conscious, only putting enough fatigue in her body so that she couldn’t move.

“It’s only because I know how useless it is,” she said in a groggy voice. “You have Medics nearby who can heal me. Even if I did manage to kill myself, I’d just go straight to the Shadow Realm.”

Eramar smiled down at her, determined not to let his spirit become dampened. “I don’t believe that. I may not have as much faith in the Light and Shadow Realms as you do, but if there is a God, then he must have an infallible sense of mercy ... otherwise, he’d have just blasted us all into oblivion at this point.”

I know I would have.

She smiled a little. That seemed a good sign. “You sound like the Light Wielder.”

Eramar’s smile faded, his anger for his old mentor returning. Still, Zand had been true to his word so far when he said he’d help Amelia. Perhaps Eramar could forgive him someday ... maybe. Amelia’s eyes drooped further as the sleeping spell started to take its course. Eramar hesitantly handed her to one of the Monks attending Hannah.

Before he let her go, he said, “I’ll never give up on you, and I’ll never stop loving you.”

Amelia shook her head slowly, tears filling her emerald eyes. “The woman you love is a fantasy, Eramar. A beautiful dream that we both had to wake from.”

Amelia’s eyes closed, her breathing leveling out as sleep took her. The Monk gently took hold of her, cradling her with obvious care that Eramar appreciated. Then the three lower-ranked Monks walked through the walls, vanishing with the woman that would’ve been Eramar’s wife.

Eramar stood in silence, watching the wall with a feeling of despondency. He tried to tell himself that they were making some progress, that the fact that she gave him the knife without a fight was a good sign. Still, he had been hoping that the evening would go entirely without incident, so he couldn’t really count this as a victory. Vaguely, he felt Hannah rubbing his arm. She’d really warmed up to him during these months that she’d been helping with Hannah. At least amidst this hell, he could finally start to rekindle a kinship with a dear old friend.

“You are right to suggest these tests that give her access to weapons. It gives us the opportunity to gauge the progress of the rehabilitation program. If what our telepaths say is true, she’s starting to regain more of herself from the Mage’s brainwashing. We are getting through to her, Eramar. Every day, I can feel her resisting the shadows more and more. Soon the darkness will have no more sway over her.”

“Even if that’s true, what then?” Eramar asked in a bout of melancholy. “With everything that she’s done, she’ll never be allowed to live freely. She’ll never have a normal life.”

Hannah paused a moment before answering. Eramar appreciated that. It meant that she was considering his question seriously instead of spouting off mindless platitudes. When Hannah did answer, her measured tone was as thoughtful as always.

“Perhaps, but she will have a life. Zand and I are in talks with the Fire Ministry and the Water Ministry to allow her to live in our custody as a consultant. With her knowledge of the Shadow Order, she could be a great aid.”

Eramar gave a bitter sniff. “So the only way she’ll live is as our dog, getting treats if she behaves herself?”

“It’s the best she can hope for, Eramar. You know that,” Hannah responded calmly without a hint of frustration. “If she starts cooperating with us of her own volition, she’ll be allowed more liberties. And perhaps, one day ... she might even be allowed to live privately within your care.”

Eramar gasped as he looked down at Hannah. “Zand told you this? He’s seen it?”

Hannah nodded slowly with a serene smile painting her pristine face. “It’s not certain, but it is in the realm of possibility.”

Eramar drew in a shuddering breath, once again allowing that dangerous feeling of hope to swell in his chest. Hannah then did something strange. She drew up to Eramar and hugged him. Eramar was stunned. Hannah had never hugged him before, not once during their time together on the old Squad 99 centuries ago.

“Sorrow has always walked hand in hand with us ... but not this time, Eramar,” she said softly. “This time, we shall know joy. I can feel it. I know she won’t end up like Billy. I know because I won’t let that happen to her. I’m here with you, my friend ... until the very end.”

Eramar cleared his throat uncomfortably, his posture stiff. “Um, Hannah ... you are hugging me.”

“I am ... platonically,” she murmured against his chest. “Don’t ruin it.”

Not knowing what else to do, he lightly patted the blonde on her shoulder. I almost wonder how Richard ever let this one go.

“Photon lasers. Plasma torpedoes. Antimatter missiles. Gamma wave cannons. They even put in neutron beams! I’ve always wanted a neutron beam!” said Jimmy excitedly while playing with the controls on his Captain’s chair.

“I know, Jimmy,” said Sharon for the third time. “I helped Thisy install all that tech, ‘member?”

Sharon’s ecstatic brother didn’t seem to hear her as he continued pushing buttons at a manic rate, all the while giggling like a little kid. “All this fancy new gear! The energy distribution grid is way more efficient on this girl than on the old Legacy! What a beaut she is!”

Jimmy continued testing certain functions, making the lights shift, or creating red holographic star charts that spiraled around the room. The crew seemed as enamored as Jimmy as they sat at their stations and familiarized themselves with the controls. The bridge more or less looked like their old bridge, but with a gold and black color plating, and a large, red window surrounding the cockpit. Outside the red-tinted window, the white moon of Galsin drew steadily closer as the ship came in to orbit the satellite. Sharon shook her head fondly. So long as Jimmy was busy playing around a bit, he wasn’t scolding her for nearly getting them all thrown into a Fire Ministry cell. She was still quite ashamed of herself for all the trouble she caused everyone, but at least she could say goodbye to Ryan properly now.

Yeah, say goodbye, she thought depressingly to herself. And then never see him again.

With her brother indisposed, Sharon turned her attention to her curious new companions. “So what’s your story, then? What you little fellas got to do with Ryan?”

The Elf children sat near the back of the bridge at their own private console and were currently engaged in a game of Universal Theory. Each combatant had command of five floating holographic boards of green light, which represented a territory under their control. On each board, the players controlled fifteen pieces which they could use to invade their enemy’s territories or reinforce their own. The lowest-ranked pieces were called Runts, and they looked like generic soldiers with no weapons. The second lowest-ranked pieces were called Marksmen, who looked like troopers with energy rifles. Next were the Lancers, who used medieval weapons such as spears that made them reminiscent of Elementals. And the strongest and most rare pieces were the Shoguns, who also used melee weapons such as swords, though they wore more ornate armor to distinguish them from the Lancers. The pieces could be modified to fit any race the player preferred, but their overall builds and stats did not change too much. Sharon had never really gotten into Universal Theory, but many Demihumans like Elves were quite enthused by the game. From what she heard, it was the nonhuman equivalent of chess, a pastime that had been around since before human civilization.

“Oh, you mean fatty?” said Elan casually without looking up from his game, on the verge of capturing one of his opponent’s squares. “We took the Second Level Exams with him last year. Helped him a few times, too. He wouldn’t have stood a chance of making Second without us.”

Elan, the female Elf, didn’t seem at all perturbed by the loss of one of her territories as she was already making a move into Esan’s central squares. Sharon could vaguely see the tactics the Elven children were employing, but strategy games were not her forte.

“There was something we were meaning to talk with him about during the Exams, but we never got the chance on account of everyone getting attacked by those creepy, zombie pirates,” said Elan, effortlessly talking and moving her pieces on the holographic board to attack and defend at the same time.

When she realized her mistake, the Elf shot an apologetic glance Sharon’s way, but her hands never left the board as she continued playing without looking. “No offense.”

Tracking all the Elves’ moves and countermoves was dizzying, so Sharon stopped trying to figure out what was going on in the game as she replied, “None taken, luv. I’m just surprised you lot had a run-in with other types of zombies that weren’t Parasites. Never heard of Mystics using Dark Water to turn people into psychos like that, but I guess that’s the only way to motivate regular folk into fightin’ Elementals.”

Elan smiled sweetly before turning back to the game. With her Elvish beauty, a smile from her was dazzling even if she was still but a child. “After the battle on Galsin, we were sent on a deep space covert mission, so we had to wait before contacting Ryan again.”

Esan picked up where Elan left off. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with him ever since we heard he got back from Black Star, but everyone’s been very secretive about his activities as of late. That’s why we volunteered to help with Squad 99’s training exercise, though it ultimately proved unnecessary since we found out where he went shortly before arriving at the holodeck.”

Sharon nodded as she recalled her own difficulty in tracking down Ryan. “Yeah, I hear ya about that secretive bit. Even Grafy was real mum about whatever Ryan was up to, and he and I are pretty tight.”

Elan had just lost one of her boards, but was on the verge of capturing another square as her forces closed in on one of Elan’s Shoguns. Sharon heard that capturing an enemy square meant potentially regenerating lost pieces, so the game could theoretically go on indefinitely.

“Tell me something, Sharon,” said Elan as her dizzying hands never lost their rhythm. “Why were you willing to risk so much just to see our fatty boy? Are you in love with him like Torsha is?”

Sharon flinched back with a start, startled on two fronts. “Wha ... Me ... in love? And Torsha ... what?”

I heard that highborn Elves from their homeworld could be eccentric, but bloody hell!

“Like Torsha was,” whispered Esan, but loud enough that Sharon could hear him, so she wasn’t sure if he was trying to keep it a secret. “Remember, she’s with that Dragon now.”

Elan shook her head and whispered back, “Nuh-uh. I heard they broke up, so she might be pining for Ryan again.”

“Doubt it,” continued Esan in that strange whispering tone. “I think she meant it when she said she had moved on from Ryan. I bet she’s into that old Werewolf dude who’s been hanging around the team lately. She seems like the type to go for older guys. And he’s her own species, so they probably relate better anyway.”

“Okay,” said Sharon suddenly before she heard any more gossip about her new associates. “I think that’s enough chattering about the love lives of people who can easily kill me. I’m starting to realize why Éclair tried to warn me about you two before I let you on board.”

The Elves sniffed as they turned back to their game, and muttered simultaneously, “Party-pooper.”

Sharon almost corrected the Elves when they asked about her feelings for Ryan, but something else came to mind. She told herself not to say anything, but her curiosity got the better of her. She needed to know if Ryan liked anyone at this point.

I just hope it’s not Éclair. No way can I compete with a silver-haired princess like her ... with her snobbish accent and her huge knockers.

“About Ryan ... do you think he-”

A loud crash rang through the bridge, pulling Sharon’s focus away from the Elves. The source of the noise was a couple of crewmen coming into the bridge while tugging a floating hoverboard behind them. The mechanical hoverboard had a bunch of scraps and droid parts piled on top. One of the pieces had fallen to the floor – a large robot head by the look of it.