Chapter 7: Revelations

After the Sages left, the colony was in an uproar. We had already spread out all over the planet, and our numbers had swelled in the years after the Dragon was discovered. The thought of leaving the planet and traveling through space for who knew how long was terrifying. Even more terrifying was giving up our most valuable resource, leaving ourselves vulnerable for invasion from our powerful alien neighbors. All these arguments and more were debated as we discussed the best course of action.

Lord Jefferson Gregory was not pleased. “I said I want her dead, and I want her dead now!”

Just to get his point across, he kicked Galzar in the gut, sending him tumbling into a glass coffee table with porcelain figures and smashing it to pieces.

“You’re paying for that by the way,” said Lord Gregory.

Gregory didn’t even take notice of the pieces of glass Galzar extracted from his flesh as he marched to the wardrobe to withdraw his lightning whip, which crackled and sizzled with electrical energy.

Silvia Slithe, the young Goblin girl, just stood there whimpering quietly as he racked the whip across her back over and over until he tired himself out. Silvia collapsed to the ground panting for air, which pleased Lord Gregory, but what would’ve pleased him even more involved seeing a similar reaction out of the arrogant Éclair Kaves.

However, the Elemental proved to be much less responsive to the effects of the electric whip. Since it became apparent that torturing her wouldn’t yield any results, and causing her minor damage with the whip no longer amused him, Lord Gregory wished the girl to be put to death.

However, his alien subordinates seemed cross at the idea, and they had the audacity to question his orders. Clearly, a lesson was in order ... a very long and painful lesson.

Rising to her feet slowly, Silvia spoke in her meek voice that still sounded alluring somehow. “The Elemental must not die. She can be a valuable asset to us in the future. Whether she talks or not is irrelevant now.”

Lord Gregory sniffed indignantly. “I don’t see how. She’s not even that young half-breed brat that you two were looking for. Yes, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I know that Galzar had Hamma Steel check up on the boy personally. I dismissed the matter because we have kidnapped plenty of young Elementals for experimentation.

“However, I am beginning to see that I was far too lax with you lackeys. Now you think that you can spout your opinions off at will, as if your word even matters. As if we are equals. There has been quite enough individualism around here lately. Maybe it’s time that I renegotiated the terms of our agreement.”

Silvia seemed to shrink with fear as she trembled while facing the floor. But before Lord Gregory could make up his mind whether to hit her again or not, Galzar Slithe stepped in between Lord Gregory and his daughter.

Galzar spoke in his eerily quiet voice. “Sir. Forgive my impudence, but I feel that keeping the girl alive will be strategically beneficial to your cause in the long run. She has more value than you realize. I hear she is related to Saria Kaves, the current Minister of Fire.

“In fact, there are rumors circulating that the girl could one day take over leadership of the Ministry once she has come of proper age. Imagine having influence over the future of the Ministry of Fire itself. If handled properly, the Elementals could become your tools to do with as you will. You could use them to destroy whatever enemy you deem fit, and then when you wish, you can kill them all at your leisure, for you will have a line to their very heart.”

The Goblin’s words did hit a cord within Lord Gregory. He never considered gaining control over his own personal army of Elementals before. With their power, he’d suffer no rival within the Imperial Senate. He could destroy the other Elementals at will ... usurp the Emperor himself anytime he wished. But then, Lord Gregory realized that he was being toyed with, that the Goblin wanted to use him as a pawn in another game. With as much force as he could muster, Lord Gregory backhanded Galzar Slithe across the face.

“You alien bastard! You think me a fool! I will not be bought in by such grandiose ideas of power! I already have power, and thanks to my plan, I’m about to have a great deal more power! We stick to the plan, and the way I see it, the girl doesn’t fit in with my plan! Therefore, she must be eliminated!”

Galzar wiped his bruised chin. “If I may say, sir, I think you are letting your personal feelings on the matter cloud your judgment. The girl can be of use, but you refuse to see it because of your wounded pride.”

Lord Gregory could scarcely believe his ears. “You dare speak that way to me, worm? That little bitch punched me in the face and nearly broke my nose, but instead of seeing her punished for her wrongs, you would have me roll out the red carpet for her as if she were justified to strike her Pureskin superior! And now, you dare to scold me like I’m a child ... like you are not only my equal, but my better?”

Lord Gregory raised the whip to strike the insolent Goblin, but Galzar reached out and grabbed his wrist faster than a shadow. Before Lord Gregory could utter a word, a black fog erupted from Galzar’s hand and darkness covered his eyes.

When light returned, Lord Gregory was in a daze as he struggled to remember exactly what had just happened. He looked around his large, tastefully decorated room to see his two Goblin Assassins standing at attention.

“What are you two doing here?”

“You were just about to tell us why we needed to spare the young Elemental girl,” explained Silvia.

Not wanting his subordinates to see his momentary confusion, Lord Gregory waved his hands impatiently, and said, “Yes, yes, my simple-minded servants. The reason we cannot kill the Elemental is that she’s too valuable in the long run. She’s a relative of the Minister of Fire, you know. And it’s rumored that she will one day take control of the Ministry. I know better than to let a good bargaining chip go to waste.”

As Lord Gregory said these words, they didn’t sound right somehow, like it wasn’t really him talking. But then as he thought of the prospect of having control over the future Minister of Fire, Lord Gregory realized that it was silly to think that his words weren’t his own.

How could such a brilliant plan be anything but his own idea? Besides, being a politician, he had been trained on how to guard his mind, so he would know if anyone tampered with his thoughts. Furthermore, these Goblins were shapeshifters, not telepaths. They couldn’t possibly have any influence over him.

“Now, off with you, and see to it that our guest is relatively comfortable for the time being. And I don’t want to hear any arguments from you!” Lord Gregory felt very proud of himself for coming up with such a clever plan on the fly.

Both Goblins bowed simultaneously, and said, “Yes, sir.”

When they were alone, Silvia turned to her father, and asked, “Did you use the gift?”

Galzar slowly held out the vial with the black liquid inside. Lord Gregory hadn’t even noticed her father rub some of the liquid on his hands while falling onto the table. Even if he had noticed it, Galzar could’ve easily erased Gregory’s short-term memory and morphed it into anything he desired.

“Yes, and a shame I had to. We are running out of Dark Water. I am no telepath, so this is the only influence that we have over Lord Gregory.”

“Can we get more?”

Galzar shook his head slowly before speaking in his whispering voice. “The liquid in this vial is specially designed Dark Water created by the Desolate One’s personal servant. It contains an extremely powerful telepathic suggestion laced by the servant’s own psions. He is said to be among the most powerful telepaths that have ever lived. It was his power, not the Dark Water, that has allowed us to bend Lord Gregory to our will with such subtlety. Currently, the servant is on assignment as he has communicated through the Dark Water, so we will not be replenishing our supplies in the near future.”

Silvia nodded while thinking out loud, “It was the servant who tasked Hamma Steele with bringing in that half-breed child. But now, the Dark Water has decreed that this girl is the greater priority. Tell me, do you know why specifically?”

“I cannot pretend to know the minds of our masters,” responded Galzar without a trace of doubt. “Our place is to obey, not to question. Remember, we are nothing. We live to serve the will of darkness. That is the whole of our existence.”

Silvia nodded slightly to the chant that she had heard many times. She knew that she was only a tool, and that her father was only a tool. Did that mean that her father only saw her as a tool and not as a daughter? Silvia turned away from her father in a sudden surge of sorrow and anger.

“Something troubles you, apprentice,” observed Galzar. “To maximize effectiveness, it is imperative that you voice all of your concerns to me so that your mind is unclouded by needless distractions. Speak, child.”

I guess this is the closest I’ll ever get to fatherly concern.

“I tire of this, fa ... I mean, master. I tire of constantly submitting my body to the cruelties of that man when I can snap his spine as easily as breathing.”

Silvia saw the way Gregory had gawked at the young Elemental’s body. She knew the things he did to the mistresses who visited him. He didn’t think they were making love unless they endured a few bruises and broken bones before they left. Even though he had never touched her in that way, just being in his presence made Silvia feel like she was being violated somehow.

“Master, why must we suffer this human any longer? He has not even taken the oath. He does not serve the Desolate One; he only serves himself. I do not know how much longer I can endure this ... this humiliation!” Silvia felt tempted to cry, but she knew her father would only take it as another sign of weakness, and she looked weak enough at the present.

Galzar stared down at his daughter with his arms crossed. “We have already been through this, apprentice. Lord Gregory is still very valuable to our cause. We need his resources and his influence here on Tarrus.

“But more than that, we need a suitable scapegoat should the plan be discovered. As demoralizing as it is to submit to such a weak creature, we must endure it. We cannot completely coerce him into doing what we want. He must think he is acting of his own volition. It’s the only way for our presence to remain undetected as we continue our work on this world.”

Silvia grew quiet as a certain taboo question came to mind. “Do you ever feel anything ... anything at all when he hits me?” asked Silvia tentatively. “When he beats me with that whip?”

Galzar didn’t respond for a few seconds. Silvia almost thought that her question caught him off guard, but then she had never known her father to be taken off guard by anything.

“Of course I feel something. I feel justified in my belief that humanity is a tumor on this universe, and that their sole purpose should be to fade from existence. Humans are cruel, pitiful creatures. His behavior does not surprise me, but it does disgust me. That is why I will destroy all humans without discrimination when the time comes. And you should feel the same.”

Not exactly the answer I wanted to hear. But that doesn’t mean that within all that hate, there’s no room for love, thought Silvia, though quickly regretting her line of thinking. No, forget about such things. You were not born for love. You should know better by now.

Silvia remembered what her father had told her about his previous encounters with humans. How they ransacked countless Goblin outposts and murdered his friends. She remembered her own dealings with humans, being treated with fear and suspicion on the few occasions that she allowed her true form to show.

From what Silvia had seen, humans were destruction incarnate and they could only sow more destruction. Her father was right. The only thing that mattered was the fulfillment of her mission so that no other race need suffer the presence of humans any longer.

“Yes, master. You are right. Until all the humans are dead, I will not allow myself to feel anything. I will bury my feelings deep into my heart as I bury my blade into theirs.”

Eramar stood in the infirmary over a bloody body wrapped up in a white cloth with another corpse beside it, only the other one had a head. As if that wasn’t gruesome enough, Eramar also bore the company of one of the most annoying men ever to cross his path. Eramar had been looking forward to speaking to Doctor Amelia Wilson, but the obnoxious Doctor Grain came instead.

Doctor Frederick Grain, thought Eramar, groaning inwardly. The slightly older brother of Professor Grain, and just as infuriating as his relative ... not to mention, a lot less prettier than the female doctor.

“Tell me again, Frederick,” said Eramar, purposefully calling Dr. Grain by his first name to annoy him. “Why can’t I speak to Doctor Wilson?”

Doctor Grain scowled at Eramar, but then again, the man always scowled, so it might’ve been his normal face. “Oh, I see how it is, sonny. I’m not a cute girl, so you just write me off because you’re feeling like fraternizing with the female medical staff!”

Eramar almost started to blush. “That’s not why I ... Just tell me where Doctor Wilson is, Frederick!”

“That’s still ‘Doctor Grain’ to you,” grunted Grain, his frown deepening. “And Doctor Wilson is currently in the field acting as a medic for the commando squads. I’m all you’ve got, sonny, so either get used to it or get out of my infirmary. And while you’re at it, take a bath; I’ve smelled corpses with better fragrance than you!”

Eramar instinctively wanted to sniff his pits, but he knew better than to fall for Grain’s jibes. Instead, Eramar smiled through his teeth as he said, “Must be the humidity. In any case, if you’re all I’ve got, why don’t you give me the rundown on these two corpses?”

Doctor Grain huffed. “I already told the investigation squad everything. Nothing to report, nothing out of the ordinary ... besides the fact that they’re dead. One guy had his head blown off ... the other slit his own throat. I can give you details on the causes of death, their general health, and what they might have ingested within the last few months, but I don’t see how any of that could possibly help you. Plus, there were plenty of witnesses to confirm the causes of death, so why even bother?”

Eramar started losing his patience. Huffing loudly, Eramar grabbed Doctor Grain by his nose and shook him.

“Just humor me,” said Eramar, twisting the struggling Grain back and forth. “Or else I’ll remind your brother, Professor Grain, of those credits you owe him!”

“How do you even know about that?” cried out Doctor Grain in a nasally voice.

“Because you’re always borrowing credits from your brother,” retorted Eramar as he released the insufferable man’s nose with a jerk. “Now please, Doctor Grain, if you would be so kind.”

Doctor Grain rubbed his nose, and muttered, “Young people these days. No respect.”

That seemed amusing to Eramar since he was a few centuries older than the Second despite the man’s elderly appearance, but decided not to mention that fact lest the Doctor change his mind. Grain pulled out a controller from his lab coat and the room darkened. A holographic image of the council chambers appeared above their heads. Doctor Grain pointed at the image like a schoolteacher.

“Now, here we see the weapon used to kill the first victim.”

The screen froze, and the image zoomed in to view Christopher Palm throwing a small needle that glowed orange from psionic manipulation.

“A medical needle imbued with enough psions to detonate on impact. Made from Sun Gem-infused chromovite steel, a common material for Elemental weapons. When the blade punctured the senator’s skull here below the frontal lobe.”

The image went fast-forward to the needle entering Randals’ head.

“It caused a metabolic shock to the victim’s nervous system, reacting to the energy within the needle and the electrical impulses of the brain, boiling the nerve tissue with enough energy to light a house. This resulted in the fracturing of the skull, dislocation of the jaw and facial regions, as well as the popping of the eyes and the bursting of the tongue. The body went limp from the loss of the cerebral cortex, and the victim died instantly. Or - a simpler way to put it - his head went boom.”

The image then fast-forwarded to Randals’ head exploding, the splatter of blood and bone frozen like some macabre painting. As distasteful as he found it, Eramar didn’t avert his eyes lest he miss a detail that could lead to an important breakthrough. Grain then fast-forwarded to Christopher Palm being surrounded by Elemental guards.

“The knife here is also chromovite-based; however, it’s not charged with psions. Here, Christopher Palm takes his own life by slicing his jugular, dying gradually from suffocation and exsanguination.” The old man then looked back to Eramar with a scowling snarl. “That is the best description I can give you in layman’s terms. Did I miss anything in my evaluation?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out,” said Eramar quietly as he pointed to the image of Christopher Palm lying on the floor. “You said that he would have died slowly from that wound, but all the guards said he died almost immediately.”

This time, Doctor Grant huffed and scowled at the same time. “That is unlikely, not from a cut that shallow to the jugular. In order for him to die instantly, he’d have to strike something more vital. The heart or the head, but not the throat. When the throat is cut like that, you will surely die, but not all that quickly. It would take several seconds to a minute in order for you to either suffocate from lack of air or bleed to death. From what I’ve been able to tell, it was most likely the former.”

“He suffocated before bleeding to death, you say?” asked Eramar, studying the image of Christopher Palm lying on the floor face down in a puddle of blood. The blood came gushing out so fast that Eramar thought he would’ve bled to death first before suffocating. “Why didn’t you make a note that he shouldn’t have died quickly when you were given the body to examine?”

Doctor Grain shrugged. “I wasn’t told the length of time it took him to die. I’m a doctor, not a detective. Such duties are up to the investigation squad. Speaking of which, why are you here instead of them? A Wielder hardly seems like a suitable choice as an investigator. I know you worked with the surveillance unit when you were younger, but that must’ve been over a century ago now.”

“Currently, all members of the investigation squad are being tied up searching for any weaknesses in our defense grid,” replied Eramar distractedly, still facing the image of Christopher Palm. “Given my history, I was a natural choice under such short notice. But you’re right. I haven’t done this in a long time. I do intend to get someone more attuned to this kind of work in here as soon as possible, but until then, ‘I’m’ all you’ve got.”

Eramar never considered himself much of a detective even when he worked as one. Of course, he did have his fantasies as a child, but that was all they were, fantasies. In fact, he joined the investigation squad partially out of inspiration from novels he read as a boy. In those days, he thought it might be exciting to do some detective work for the Ministry ... but that was before ... before he met the Demon. Suddenly, Eramar had an insane idea, an idea so inane that it could’ve only come from one of his boyhood fantasies.

“Doctor, a favor, please. I want you to tell me the first thing that pops into your head when I ask you this question. Don’t think about it logically, just tell me the first thing that comes to mind.”

Doctor Grain seemed a little confused by Eramar’s sudden intensity, but he quickly recovered and said, “Uh ... alright. Shoot.”

“Why would a man die instantly from a sliced throat?”

“Well, my guess is he wouldn’t,” replied Doctor Grain.

“Exactly, now tell me why?” said Eramar with even more intensity.

“Well, I guess it could be because he died of something else,” guessed Doctor Grain.

“Which meant that he was already dead,” concluded Eramar finally.

Doctor Grain’s eyes popped with shock and realization. “But ... he ... that ... it...”

“You weren’t at the Wielder meeting that took place right after the Emperor’s visit, but during the meeting, someone made a reference to the old practice of dead puppetry.”

Grain’s widened pupils grew exponentially larger. “Dead puppetry! You mean controlling a corpse after it has already died using Elemency!”

Eramar nodded. “The same.”

“But that’s not possible. If he was dead, he wouldn’t be able to use psions, and that needle was clearly charged with psions.”

Eramar growled softly and bit his finger. I hadn’t thought through that part of the puzzle. How could a dead person use Elemency?

Just let the answer come naturally. The first logical conclusion that pops into your head. And then work your way down from there.

Eramar grinned at hearing his old master’s voice again, lecturing him as always.

Well, the first thing that comes to my head is that a corpse cannot use Elemency, so it must’ve been someone else who did.

Eramar froze, stunned by his own thoughts. Then he remembered the appearance of Ryan Uruks in the chambers. Ryan shouldn’t have been able to get inside that meeting. There were too many enchantments in place for him to be able to so much as get within a mile of the doors. And yet, he’d walked in as if there were no obstacles in his path. As if all the defenses were turned off.