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Return to Edenkyn: A Cycle of Reincarnation
- Return to Edenkyn: A Cycle of Reincarnation -
It was well over 2,000 years since the last tree died upon the surface of Ra'qia, before the new settlers came from the colony worlds, bringing with them the seeds of new life. They planted where they could, they dug canals for water, and they dug deeper to store what could be coaxed to live on the surface. In time, vast civilizations were erected in places where they would not harm the fragile ecosystem. In time those civilizations were forgotten by the worlds that they sprung from, and the people who did dwell in them came to forget even their own origins. Many thousands of years more passed, and there came to that holy planet more settlers... and I was among them. I had walked the surface of that world once long before my present arrival. I was different then, than I was now. Different enough, that I did not recall whence I came in that before-time. Perhaps it was even in a previous existence! But that did not matter to me at the time. I did not know the history of the Holy Planet, as people called it. I did not know of the previous settlers and their lost civilizations. I had heard rumors only, stories that were legends and of which none living knew the truth thereof. I did not like the idea of coming to Ra'qia... it was exactly the opposite of what I would so consider a paradise. They said that it was barren, rocky, and lifeless in many places. No one knows what became of the old ecosystem of the ancient settlers. Only that at an unknown point... their efforts to turn the planet green again failed. And that is when they disappeared. I knew not even that much when I arrived there on this occasion. I only knew it to be a hellish world of deserts, wastelands, and vitrified plains. Windswept and hostile to life. My teachers knew nothing of it other than this... and what I knew from the before-time I no longer remembered. This was a new time.
The craft that bore us there was shaped like a massive insect hive, and in each honeycomb-like area of its' surface smaller ships were docked and held in place. From this hive... enormous collectors like giant wings gathered solar energy and stored it for the hive ship to use. Its' even more enormous back engines allowed for faster than light travel but only through a stable wormhole. Another device, one on the front of the hive ship, created one in order to allow for passage through the stars that would be nigh unto instantaneous, so long as one could create wormhole to the correct destination. Even a fraction off and it would be death. Travel through the stars was not a romantic thing... not a peaceful passage... but it was more akin rather to a voyage across the sea. Sometimes safe and swift, but other times turbulent and deadly. This is why those who piloted the hive ships were different than regular people. They could afford to make no mistakes, and so they were bred not to, taught ways to avoid doing so, and advanced with special conditioning to know precisely how to chart a path through space that would end in utter disaster. They were kept apart from the crew, secluded, and one saw them in fleeting glimpses only, in their diaphanous robes and their peculiar headgear that made them look more machine than human. It was whispered that they no longer saw themselves as human at all, but rather as a living part of the hive ships themselves. They were thus bonded, and it was not unheard of for a hive captain to die if his or her ship was ever destroyed or decommissioned. Which happened mostly when a craft grew old and became difficult to keep repaired. So complete was the bond, and so terrible the price paid by those ones who gave up their very humanity in order to secure safe travel for others. A brutal efficiency was about the whole sect of them. Like zealots living and dying for some god. A most oddly apt analogy!
My companion claimed to understand them, to know their hidden languages and their mental leaps of logic. She often tried to explain their equations to me, and like the ones she was fond of quoting on odd occasions I could comprehend none of it save only when it was explained to be in the very most basic of terms. She was in the process of transitioning into a man, but wished to keep a certain degree of her feminine mannerisms and speaking patterns intact. She was far enough along that I barely recognized her any longer, and yet I did. She insisted I refer to her as female for the time being. She was not quite yet comfortable with her transition, and I did not wish to make her feel any more uncomfortable if at all I could help it. I gazed upon her... one day it would be him... and I was very happy for her achievement. She had a very slender body, now appearing very much like a teenage boy's, and immaculately beautiful facial feathers beneath her heavy makeup. She intended to keep those features, she told me. “I will not go so far that I wish to lose that!” she explained when I had asked her about this several nights before. Her attire was functional for her role... a loose black sleeveless jumpsuit, over which she wore a thin, transparent red robe with full sleeves gathered at the wrists. Her lips were black, her eye makeup was black and thick, yet her eyes did not disappear into the darkness. Rather, a silvery light shone out from them occasionally... when she was deepest in thought... and even when that light did not shine, the odd coloration of them drew one's attention quickly enough. “I remember when they were brown.” I stated, when first they changed following her completion of certain... tests. “And now they will be green!” she exclaimed. Green, with no whites in them anywhere. And that strange silvery light that sometimes had the effect of a computer's power light blinking on and then off. Some like her developed totally red eyes and still others blue, while for some it was black or even white. There were names for each color grade as well... Blood Eyes for red. Sky Eyes for blue. Void Eyes for black, and Milk Eyes for white. In the case of my companion, the name for her all green eyes was Gaia Eyes. She was rather proud of that. Her head was totally shaved save for a long black ponytail near the back of the top of her head, kept up and back in an ornate gold cone decorated with black runic writing. She kept her ponytail died that dark color, and it reached all the way to her lower back. That was as long as she allowed it to grow, so as to still be manageable. Once, her hair was short... but that was before the tests. Before the changes. Now, she was almost... but not quite... somebody else. “What was my previous name?” she asked me as we stood gazing out the viewing window, looking upon the world of Ra'qia which we were soon to orbit.
“Kor'ha, that was your name before... but you died. Then they brought you back, but with not even a bit of a memory of your life prior. What name did they give you now?” I explained and inquired at the same time. She looked at me, a bit puzzled by the sound of her old name, and said instantly: “Pet'ra. They named me Pet'ra, just before initiating me into the order. They said I had lived with you down on the surface of the Holy Planet back in the days of the Elemental Wars. What can you tell me of this?” and I stated honestly: “I can recall but little since they brought me back as well. I have inquired of the masters of the rebirth capsules, but they refuse to tell me anything at all, saying it would be detrimental for me to remember too much at one time. They spoon feed me a little here and even less there, and I feel like a child learning everything all over again. But when I am with you... it feels right.” and Pet'ra smiled, nodded in agreement, and stated: “That is my experience also! The spoon feeding, the sense that you and I were meant to walk together in life. The frustration at not being able to fully remember what came before. The feeling of being... like a newborn... in many ways.” And her pale white hands found their way into my gloved hands... and it felt good. Despite her bone white pallor, she was warm and in the months to come when she was ready to be called “he” I would truly love him just the same.
In the drop-ship, Pet'ra scanned a data scroll regarding the part of the planet we were to be descending unto. “Humid climate, probably due to underground water and heavy rains... which just evaporate after a day or two. They always do! Nothing green for miles... and even then, the type of trees that grow in sparse groups here and there are abnormal in appearance. Ancient ruins... including, some kind of vast palace complex... which all our dating methods have found to be impossibly old. As in... before even recorded history began! Broken machinery everywhere, like a junkyard. Honestly, darling... it looks as if a war raged here. One that produced not even a trace of those who perished in it, either in terms of bones or survivors. They may as well have just... vanished.” And I had a flash of a memory, an older woman saying to me: “It is a war of extermination! There are to be no survivors.” and I felt true dread.
Months later, nearly one full year since our landing... Pet'ra had fully transitioned... his voice was no longer quite as high or lilting as once it had been. It was still lighter than any man I was accustomed to previously, and somewhat melodic in tone. He could always hit the high note every time whenever he sang, and when he recited poetry to me, as he often did, I was captivated like a little child listening to its' mother raptly while being read a beloved story. He was precisely as he had wished to be, and I was happy for him. Our love had not diminished, and on this day we were in the reconstructed sections of the palace gardens, overseeing the clearing away of all remaining rubble. Water was flowing in the old fountains... and trees, flowers, and plants of every variety were being grown in the gardens, their growth accelerated with special chemicals which safely saw to their full development. The water was pumped up from below... we had discovered the secret caches below the palace within the first few weeks of our arrival. They were the priority at that point in time. Now, we planned to restore the palace to its' former glory. We found familiar places where we walked in the before-days... and sometimes, I would recall a thing while at other times it would be Pet'ra that would do so. We always told each other immediately, upon such a recollection. There were others with us... whole teams of scientists, craftsmen, laborers and history experts. Archaeologists, ecologists, planetologists, farmers and families all looking to restart life in this long desolate region of the Holy Planet. Those were there as well, in no small numbers. More of them had come every week it seemed, and we did not doubt more still were planning to arrive before the end of the year. Pet'ra discovered several totally blocked chambers where blasted rubble had sealed the entrances in bygone times... and he set the workmen to clearing it away. “I think that you will not like what you find in there!” he cautioned me as I came over to have a look. “What do you mean?” I asked, and Pet'ra replied sadly: “You should not wish to find out.” but I insisted that I did, and so I was with the expedition team that was sent to explore the newfound chambers. I felt... a nauseous anxiety.
They had been a series of living chambers for a noble house. I saw the emblem of the House of Fire, an ancient banner riddled with slash marks and partially burned at the bottom. The detailed symbol of a blood red griffon with the curved horns of a ram, a flaming sword clutched in its' sharp claws. That was the heraldry represented upon the very tattered cloth of the banner. Heaped about the chambers here and there were the skeletons of soldiers in smashed black armor, their skulls bearing slash marks and holes. Some of the dead soldiers had been charred as if in a fire, as much of the room appeared. I felt the flash of an old memory returning unbidden unto me: “Get more men to the living chambers! Put out the fire, put out the fire!” I was the one screaming this. “If they wish to slaughter us to the last... we will go out with honor!” But this had been in the ancient days of the Elemental Wars. The life I was trying still to remember. I knelt before several of the soldiers, and wept. “I knew these men and women once. We had broke bread together, fought together, bled together... but we did not die together. I could not join them on this one occasion, for I had to be in the city beyond the palace to assist in fighting the rebel forces. That is what spared me their terrible fate!” Pet'ra walked up behind me, and whispered: “One of those uncleared chambers was yours back then. Do not go in there though! Not just yet... not after this tragic discovery. Give us time to examine things first, and we will so call for you when it is wisest to do so.”
I stood outside the palace, brooding on the past. Beneath the great mounds of sand I now knew lay the ruins of what was once the grand capital city of the Holy Planet. The native guide told us that to them it was called “Edenkyn”, and the palace held the same name. “The place where all life began.” the guide had gasped reverently. There was nothing older in all the known universe. “And here, my life once met its' end.” I remembered. “Those were dark days, savage times... when men killed each other for all that remained of the planet's resources, heedless of the damage to the environment.” Pet'ra had informed me rather clinically. “I was different. I fought for my people!” I had replied. “I know. I did too.” he stated.
They had opened the chambers that used to be my own and said I could enter freely without fear. By that time, the long dead soldiers from the other chambers had all been taken away by the archaeologists and I felt less ill at ease walking through the old burned living area to my long-ago chambers beyond. This was beyond familiar to me! I did not even need the guide to show me the way. These rooms had been spared the blaze that had claimed the rest of the living areas. Within them, there was another of the banners of the House of Fire, this one in far better shape as it hung upon the far wall. And, I saw all of my old furniture, the shelves upon which still sat my old treasures that I was ever fond of displaying. Figurines, dolls, statuettes and crystal sculptures of a great variety. Many of these items could have just belonged to some small child. A stuffed animal lay in a corner... a large black spider with big eyes and a smile-like expression on its' plush maw. I reached over to pet it, an old instinct from the before-days, and it was still soft even after all this time. However, the thick layers of dust and cobwebs that covered everything in that place made it obvious that not a thing there was untouched by time. “Be careful with everything here, it is certainly fragile after all the centuries that have passed!” Pet'ra cautioned me as he entered the room. “Some of these things... may be expected to fall apart when we try to move them off for study.” he explained to me. “I do not want my things 'studied'.” I said tensely to him. “So, you are beginning to remember then!” my companion remarked in visible awe. “Yes... I am.” I remarked. “And these things... are dear to me. Treat them with love, not as relics from some old tomb to be picked and studied and taken apart. I want these things... preserved... for all time if possible. Not destroyed!” and Pet'ra promised me: “I will personally give the order to preserve these things then and clean them as much as can be done safely. Will you lay claim to them, then, and recognize them as your property?” I agreed to do precisely that. “Very good then, darling! I will have you sign the necessary papers after I have spoken with the archaeologists and informed them of yours and my wishes in this matter.” And then he hurried off to see that all this was set into motion. “I... loved these things... long ago. Cherished them, and protected them.” I said aloud to myself. I opened a closet and saw in it all of my old clothes. Styles suitable for any gender... most of them red and black, and purple. I always had exquisite taste, and it seemed that these clothes were suited for comfort and style rather than functionality. Even now, the red robes I wore as I stood in that place were little different than anything I saw within that closet. I found an ancient book, and within it was ink handwriting. My own, as it was thousands of years ago.
The scholars were able to translate it, since I could not in my present existence understand the ancient language in which the book was written. “It was a record of various events from your life.” Pet'ra had to explain to me. “I can understand the language and read it to you, if you wish it.” and I explained that I did indeed wish to hear all that it contained. The telling was long, and what I shall now relate to you is all that was related to me. What I had penned when still the House of Fire ruled from that great palace.
I “When of old I lived on the ancient world of Ra'qia, which in some of the ancient texts is referred to as Kolob and Kobol... I had many lifetimes there across countless centuries, and I was known there by equally as many names. During the period of that planet's history in which the feud between the House of Fire and that of Water raged nigh unchecked, I had served the House of Fire for the longest time. The ruler of that house, Cyndijaz Megg, took a liking to me and adopted me into her family as one of their own... even though not a drop of blood was in common between us. In her service, I was ever ruthless and often without mercy towards our enemies, and many of those foes came to regard me as demonic in nature. Times were brutal back then, and one often might have ended up slain had they not cultivated such a colorful persona. Though I was not overly close with Megg, despite her own adoration of me, I was madly infatuated with her younger sister Caleo in whom I sensed a kindred spirit. Caleo was, for the most part, very gentle by nature but she could also be quite wild indeed, highly unpredictable and like myself quite cruel unto enemies of the house. She was a woman of the deepest feelings and intense passions, and that was more than all else what drew me to her. Just as they called me the Demon King, they called Caleo the Crimson Child, and when we took to the field of battle together, to vanquish our foes side by side... it was a sight both beautiful and terrible to behold. In contrast to that image... during peacetime, she and I together created magnificent works of art which often Megg put on display. We wrote moving poetry even and music that was sung by bards and minstrels across all our lands. And, we aided Megg in the raising of the ruler's beloved daughter Kor'nelia. Even in the chasms of blackest Hell, a demon must be an angel sometimes, in order to be true to oneself! (And thereafter was an illustration inked and colored upon the page, with the following text written to explain all the details of what it was intended to represent.) In this picture you see here... I, was the noble with the shaved head standing in the middle, dressed all in black. The girl with the blood-red hair standing with her arms folded, she was Caleo. And the blonde woman with the totally blue eyes, that same was Jemi'ann, and she was herself a diplomatic representative of the House of Air. This scene I have sketched for posterity shows we three by one of the windows of a space-traveling vessel, in orbit around a water planet... the surface of which was covered by a thick layer of ice. We were on a mission to collect some water from that planet so that we could bring it back to Ra'qia in order to bolster our stocks of water there. Being a mostly arid world, water was often scarce on Ra'qia and one could not always find it by digging underground in search of it. In those leaner times, it was necessary to bring water from off-world and to fill up large constructed reservoirs with it so that the people would never have to do without such an essential thing. And, for such off-world water retrieval missions, the advanced technologies employed by the House of Air were ever essential... and it was for that reason, Jemi'ann came along with us on the occasion depicted here.”
There was a long, extended pause after Pet'ra recited this portion of my ancient writings unto me. He took a glass and filled it with the blood-red nectar of the addictive Delos fruit... which had the seeming appearance of a red apple, the texture of an orange, and it was said the taste of a pomegranate. His eyes flashed totally silver for some time after imbibing this, and then became green once again. “Forgive me, my darling... I needed the boost to continue this recitation. There is so very much within these writings! And I would not wish my throat to go dry midway either. Now, let us continue where we had left off...”
II “I was not the only one so adopted, by Megg... there was, of course, one other. A recently orphaned girl who was named Phae'rathi. She had lost both of her parents during the early wars, at a very young age, and grew up only knowing Megg as her mother and myself as her older sibling. So, because of just how violently her actual parents had died... slaughtered in their own home before her very eyes, cut to bloody pieces without ever having had the chance to defend themselves... Phae'rathi became obsessed with making certain that such a cruel fate could never befall her. She trained every day in various styles of combat, with whatever weapons she could easily make use of. She had all of the best instructors, but there were limits to what they could teach her, and soon those limits began to irritate the girl. Her entire childhood was spent thus, in the pursuit of mastering the arts of self-defense and unarmed combat. By the time she reached her early teen years, Megg decided that I should take over her training... and make her into as great and deadly a warrior as I was in those days. Before her sixteenth birthday, she had fully mastered countless weapons... and by the time her birthday of that very year had at last come on around, she had actually surpassed me in terms of speed, skill, and the deadliest accuracy. She was lethal death incarnate, and I knew in my heart that she would indeed never perish in the awful way that her parents had! She often begged me to allow her to participate in the various lethal tournaments that were hosted at the local arena. I knew that those battles were always fought to the bloody death, and I was afraid for my little sister... for though I knew her skill was truly great, even so all it would take was one slip, one distraction and I might lose her soul forever. Also, she had never actually killed, and not one had ever actually tried to kill her. I knew only what she was capable of, and it was that which I had confidence in... but I think that deep down I never truly wished to put it to the test. For I had come to love the girl very much indeed over the long years, and I knew her death would break my heart! Yet, despite all of my most heartfelt protestations, Megg declared that Phae'rathi's reckless wishes were to be granted. She arranged for the girl to fight in the arena, the very week of her sixteenth birthday... and demanded that I be there at the royal balcony overlooking the arena, to witness what transpires. I was given not a choice but to comply... and what I witnessed that day shocked me to my core. Phae'rathi did not simply survive her trials by deadly combat... she relished in each and every bloody victory she scored, her (mad?) eyes practically glowing with delight at each solitary life she took. Oh, she could indeed kill! It was as I had suspected... her skill had indeed made her lethal death incarnate. But, she was like an animal that had been caged too long, a beast that had at last been unleashed. And I, was the demon who had unleashed her for all to see! Megg was not there, herself, to witness the grisly, gory spectacle. She was not there to hear the name the crowds gave Phae'rathi, what they chanted so very loudly in the girl's scarlet honor: “Azra'ella! Azra'ella! Azra'ella!” The name's meaning was not lost on me. It meant: “Death Goddess” as well as “Death Angel”. And so her legend began... in time, she became the champion of the arena, and my personal champion on the field of battle. We conquered together, and often we cried ourselves to sleep together when we feared that we were losing our humanity. The Demon King and the Angel of Death they called us. But we were not monsters! During the unspeakably horrible military campaign in which Cyndijaz Megg personally led an army to exterminate her bitter rival, Nexinia-Din the ruler of the House of Water... we witnessed first-hand the slaughter of Nexinia-Din and her people, the horrors and the atrocities Megg committed on that day, and it was all too much for us to bear. Something inside of my little sister snapped... and she seemed as one possessed. I believe it was because this caused her to remember how her parents had been butchered so very long ago. She vowed, then and there, to make Megg pay for such crimes... and indeed as fate would have it, Megg would come to pay, though not by Phae'rathi's hands. But that is a different story! This one is about Phae'rathi, after all... who abandoned her old name in that fateful instant, choosing Azra'ella evermore. Today... she is still remembered... as Azrael, who is yet both revered and feared in turns as the legendary Angel of Death. The native people in particular believe in this superstition. Azra'ella exploits this legend for all it is worth! Her gold mask inspires the worst sort of fear in all who behold her when she wears it. I fear this will be her undoing!”
And after this, Pet'ra cleared his throat and looked at me concernedly. “Some of this is very personal, what comes next. I just want you to be prepared for that. It details someone you loved very deeply, or at least were rather extremely infatuated with. I shall tell you the lady's name when we come to it. So...”
III “The generosity of Cyndijaz Megg was legendary... she was generous, some could argue, to a fault! For my years of loyal service to her, and to her house, she so rewarded me with my own palace. It had once belonged to an enemy faction that we had driven out long ago, but had long after been purchased by a wealthy oil refinery manager who had died when an oil tank ruptured, causing an explosion which necessitated the closing down of his refinery. He left all of his wealth to his young widow, a lady whose nobility of spirit was less well known than her penchant for dabbling in the darkest of all mystical arts. Her name was Par'litu, and she was actively seeking to marry again at the time when I came to inform her that I would be taking over ownership of the palace. She would be allowed to stay there... another testament to Megg's generous nature... but only if she wished to. If she desired to leave and seek a new home elsewhere, then she was well free to go and do as she pleased. Either way, she would not ever be homeless... since she had a considerable fortune, that she was wise enough never to have squandered foolishly. She could have probably purchased another such palace elsewhere, but on the occasion of my visit to her, she smiled somewhat aloofly and asked me in an almost cold, matter of fact-like tone if I would consent to be her husband. She was very beautiful indeed... with long, straight hair which was an unusual shade of purple, and large dark eyes that were so truly black it was like looking into the void of space when gazing into them. Her skin was far, far whiter and paler than mine was, and in the body that I exist in during this life, my own skin is so very pale to the point of almost appearing to have mostly a bleached white quality to it. But Par'Litu... she had seemed almost to be a creature not of this physical reality. Her skin seemed almost to glow, under certain lighting, and she informed me that although the black gown she was wearing, she chose to honor her deceased husband... she actually preferred to wear black all the time. There was something unsettling about how familiar she felt to me, but I felt a strange sort of attraction to her that was undeniable. When looking into her eyes... I could refuse her nothing. I agreed to her proposal, and discovered to my delight that she was not cold at all, but rather possessed of a hidden fire, a passionate heart, and a soul of tremendous depth. We had much in common, as well... both of us practiced the arts of black magic, both of us had studied ancient texts of forbidden lore, and both of us hid from the world (but not from each other) the secret that in fact we were ancient beings who had existed even at that time for long centuries beyond counting. In many forms, throughout many ages, we had walked... and though our current bodies at that time were physical, we ourselves were so much more! She learned and came to know all of my names, and I learned and came to know hers. My love for her was boundless, and I asked her once if it had been this way between her previous husband and her. She said it had not... for he had been everything I was not... he had been cold to her, even cruel sometimes, and did not share her true interests, her beliefs, or her passions in life. She never mourned his passing, only appearing to in public for appearances sake prior to meeting me... and she bade me not to ever speak of him again. And so I did not. She loved red roses, and kept a circular garden of them in the palace courtyard, surrounding a jet black obelisk. But she had a dark side! Just as men called me Demon King, so too was she feared by many and not for no reason. I discovered chambers of the palace in which piles of skulls decorated the floor in places. There were basins filled with wine made to look as if they were basins of blood. And all of the guards and servants were but silent automatons. I asked her whose skulls those were, and she told me how long ago the old rival faction we had driven out from that palace had seen to the execution of countless innocents in order to sow fear in their enemies. There was a mass grave hidden in the palace's lowest chambers, far beneath the dungeons, and that was where she had gotten the skulls. She kept them as she did, to honor the memory of all those slain... the wine in the basins made to look exactly like blood was done as a reminder of the innocent blood that had been shed. And the automatons were because she did not trust strangers, feeling a comfort in the machines' quiet loyalty. She often used magic in order to communicate with those lost souls, to urge them to seek peaceful rest. Knowing all of this, made me love Par'litu that much more... for her kindness towards the dead was a most uncommon one. When I eventually left the service of the House of Fire, Par'litu came with me... and although we came to dwell in other homes, even other palaces... we always remembered that one. In the great palace where we now reside, she breathed her last... and I met not her like again.”
Suddenly, Pet'ra's sparkling green eyes lit up before he read on. “This next part... it is all about me! I mean, you said my name had been Kor'ha, did you not? This is... my whole history from that existence. I can scarcely believe the luck of finding this book! It reveals so much about us... just listen unto this...”
IV “Cynder, as Megg was more popularly called, had a sister named Caleo who was gentle in spirit... and a daughter named Kor'nelia, who had spent more time in the care of Caleo than she ever had in the care of her own mother. For the earliest years of her life, Kor'nelia had another whose hand helped to shape her life's course. A woman named Andrea, who spent much of her own young life studying to be a teacher and a mentor for children in need of such. Andrea was said to have been a child prodigy back in the earliest years of her own youth, and was regarded as a genius whose intellect made her ideal for many tasks. Unknown to most, some of those tasks were secret ones, and those same were conducted on behalf of rulers such as Cyndijaz Megg herself. Such shadowy tasks of which I so speak, involved spying, assassination when called for, and the sabotage of enemies' scientific projects and facilities. On one such mission for the House of Fire, Andrea was sent to steal a prototype for a new hydro-electric energy generator that had been invented by the rival House of Water. She was then given the false name Cora, and instructed to infiltrate a certain compound and steal the plans for the generator without being caught. She was to return to the House of Fire and give the plans to the matriarch herself. It was to take no longer than but one month to conduct this entire operation. But something went wrong, and Andrea's lifeless corpse was sent back to Cyndijaz Megg, whose anger was said to be tremendous. Once she had calmed down, Cynder called for her top scientists to find a way to resurrect Andrea. Failing that... they were to find another with equal talents and skills to replace her. Unable to bring her back to life, due to Andrea having been dead for too long for the technologies invented for that purpose to ever work... they instead cloned her and accelerated the growth of the clone to adulthood. Previously, the scientists had made a precise copy of Andrea's brain, and had on file an artificial intelligence program created from the woman's thoughts, personality, experiences, and all that made her who she was. They put the copied brain into the new body, implanted it with cybernetics, and downloaded the artificial intelligence into the new brain. The body's old brain, due to an accident that had occurred during the cloning, had been lifeless. So it was disposed of. Once she had healed fully from those operations that were by necessity performed on her during the course of all this, the woman who had up until now been known as Andrea insisted on only being called Cora. And though she was never supposed to... she had fully remembered the details of her death at the hands of the hated House of Water. Things the copied brain and artificial intelligence version of her could never possibly have been able to recall, thus since Andrea's death took place long after their creation. It seemed, that somehow she had indeed been resurrected after all! They gave her the new name of Kor'ha, which she was agreeable to as it was similar enough to Cora. Over the next several years, she fell back into her role as a teacher and as a mentor for Kor'nelia, and it was seemingly as if she had never died. In secret, she began to conduct assassination missions to slay each and every one of the people who had been involved in her death. Many top scientists of the House of Water, and several of their soldiers, turned up horrifically murdered around that time... and the reports were, that a somewhat short young woman with unnatural physical strength had been the one who dealt each of those people their mortal wounding. For Kor'ha had changed... she had become far darker, and more bent on revenge against any whom she regarded as enemies of the House of Fire. Caleo feared, that this woman who had long been her best friend had become twisted by her death and resurrection. Kor'ha kept implanting herself with various devices in order to boost her own intelligence, until it was said to have surpassed even the top-most scientists of her time. Eventually, she replaced her eyes as well, with silver cybernetic ones which could see all that humans can see but infinitely more as well. Seeing how this frightened Caleo, Kor'ha had the eyes altered to look more like her old, natural eyes. Over time, Caleo's fears subsided... at least somewhat... and the family grew used to the new form and personality of their old friend. Her enemies, however, grew to fear her... when they survived her wrath at all, which was only when she permitted them to. And then only so that they could spread tales of her mercilessness, that others might grow to fear her displeasure, and that of the matriarch she served! In time, when the House of Fire's glory days had passed and peace with the House of Water was attained, Kor'nelia grew quite close with Aquarius of Water, with Kor'ha serving as mentor and teacher to them.”
Pet'ra then exclaimed: “But then one day, zealots of the House of Water exploded a poison capsule in the ventilation system leading to my chambers, causing my death. I was... not resurrected... after that. I shall read no further from this book, I think, at least for now. Let us go check on the workers for a bit.” And he never again spoke to me of his final days from that previous existence... for they so pained him.
Before the next week was out, the workers had uncovered the crypt of Par'litu... and the guide ran in terror from the underground hall in which it lay. He loudly screamed the following, his face sweating with visible fear: “The Demon's bride! We... have found where she yet slumbers. We must not disturb her rest! Seal the chamber... for the love of all, seal it fast!” but the workers naturally ignored the man's shrill ranting. I hurried to look upon that place, Pet'ra at my side to give me courage. And there... in the center of four slender columns entwined with the stylized images of serpents, in the precise center of the square vault... was an ornately carved sarcophagus with the image of a coldly beautiful woman upon the entirety of the lid. The image was frighteningly lifelike. “I will have to confirm that she is in there.” stated Pet'ra dispassionately. “You may want to look away.” he said to me, looking at me sternly. “You are, in many ways, a child. As you were... in those before-days. This is not a sight you should witness!”
And, I looked away as they opened the lid of Par'litu's final resting place. I heard Pet'ra exclaim in a shocked manner: “This is a very advanced form of mummification. It is indeed she, the woman written of in the book we found. The Countess Par'litu herself.” I then bolted on over to take a look, as if I were one possessed, and though decayed with time the remains were indeed that of my former love. “Litu!” I shrieked, my eyes filled with tears as though her death had occurred but days previous. She still wore the old black gown that she had worn when first we met, when she dressed for her previous husband's passing. It was my own personal request that she be buried in that gown in particular and none other. I wanted to remember her always as I had seen her on that first day, not as she was in her decline... when illness took her due to the palace's water reserves having become tainted by enemy spies and saboteurs. I could bear to look no more. I closed my eyes... caressed her hair... and whispered close to her head: “Go back to sleep, Litu! I am sorry for waking you, my love. Sleep well, until the universe is changed.” After which, they closed the lid and never again was it opened. The chamber was sealed and marked, so that we would always know where it was. “This is indeed, a holy place.” I said, once all was completed.
Pet'ra at last confided something in me, once we were back in the gardens again: “You know, when I died from that poison gas... Aquarius of Water perished as well. They had slain their own ruler, just to claim my life. But Kor'nelia survived, and went on to avenge us. Your death was most brutally violent, my darling Count... you did not live long past the tragic passing of your beloved Countess Par'litu. War is always tragic, and the innocent and guilty alike perish in the throes of it. One day, they will do a full excavation of the city outside and beyond this palace, and there they will find your own remains. I do not want you to see them, and I plan for us to be off-planet when they begin that task.” I agreed with him about that. “I have seen enough ghosts of the past here already, sweet Pet'ra! I could take no more I think, and remain sane.” and early the next year we departed for the hive ship while the workers did the first excavations for the old capital city. I began to wonder... if they did not have my remains from that life, how did they bring me back in that current one! How was I still living, with full memories coming back to me more and more of that previous existence? And then, the truth was discovered when they found my headless corpse in the ruins of the ancient city, my loyal guards and retainers all around me. All of us had perished to the last, defending our home. Somehow... someone took my head away from the scene of my death, and it eventually passed into the hands of those who had brought be back to life by making use of genetic material taken from it. I was never told the whole story, and all inquiries into it were ignored. One day, I said to Pet'ra: “Pet'ra, my sweet one... could you do me a favor? Go and see if it might be possible to use some genetic material taken from Par'litu, in order that she might possibly be brought back the same way that you and I were. We live in an age of miracles, after all!” and he did agree to my request. In time, she would live again and I would be reunited with her. We would return to the great palace together on the Holy Planet... and we would live out our newly bought days, in peace.
It was well over 2,000 years since the last tree died upon the surface of Ra'qia, before the new settlers came from the colony worlds, bringing with them the seeds of new life. They planted where they could, they dug canals for water, and they dug deeper to store what could be coaxed to live on the surface. In time, vast civilizations were erected in places where they would not harm the fragile ecosystem. In time those civilizations were forgotten by the worlds that they sprung from, and the people who did dwell in them came to forget even their own origins. Many thousands of years more passed, and there came to that holy planet more settlers... and I was among them. I had walked the surface of that world once long before my present arrival. I was different then, than I was now. Different enough, that I did not recall whence I came in that before-time. Perhaps it was even in a previous existence! But that did not matter to me at the time. I did not know the history of the Holy Planet, as people called it. I did not know of the previous settlers and their lost civilizations. I had heard rumors only, stories that were legends and of which none living knew the truth thereof. I did not like the idea of coming to Ra'qia... it was exactly the opposite of what I would so consider a paradise. They said that it was barren, rocky, and lifeless in many places. No one knows what became of the old ecosystem of the ancient settlers. Only that at an unknown point... their efforts to turn the planet green again failed. And that is when they disappeared. I knew not even that much when I arrived there on this occasion. I only knew it to be a hellish world of deserts, wastelands, and vitrified plains. Windswept and hostile to life. My teachers knew nothing of it other than this... and what I knew from the before-time I no longer remembered. This was a new time.
The craft that bore us there was shaped like a massive insect hive, and in each honeycomb-like area of its' surface smaller ships were docked and held in place. From this hive... enormous collectors like giant wings gathered solar energy and stored it for the hive ship to use. Its' even more enormous back engines allowed for faster than light travel but only through a stable wormhole. Another device, one on the front of the hive ship, created one in order to allow for passage through the stars that would be nigh unto instantaneous, so long as one could create wormhole to the correct destination. Even a fraction off and it would be death. Travel through the stars was not a romantic thing... not a peaceful passage... but it was more akin rather to a voyage across the sea. Sometimes safe and swift, but other times turbulent and deadly. This is why those who piloted the hive ships were different than regular people. They could afford to make no mistakes, and so they were bred not to, taught ways to avoid doing so, and advanced with special conditioning to know precisely how to chart a path through space that would end in utter disaster. They were kept apart from the crew, secluded, and one saw them in fleeting glimpses only, in their diaphanous robes and their peculiar headgear that made them look more machine than human. It was whispered that they no longer saw themselves as human at all, but rather as a living part of the hive ships themselves. They were thus bonded, and it was not unheard of for a hive captain to die if his or her ship was ever destroyed or decommissioned. Which happened mostly when a craft grew old and became difficult to keep repaired. So complete was the bond, and so terrible the price paid by those ones who gave up their very humanity in order to secure safe travel for others. A brutal efficiency was about the whole sect of them. Like zealots living and dying for some god. A most oddly apt analogy!
My companion claimed to understand them, to know their hidden languages and their mental leaps of logic. She often tried to explain their equations to me, and like the ones she was fond of quoting on odd occasions I could comprehend none of it save only when it was explained to be in the very most basic of terms. She was in the process of transitioning into a man, but wished to keep a certain degree of her feminine mannerisms and speaking patterns intact. She was far enough along that I barely recognized her any longer, and yet I did. She insisted I refer to her as female for the time being. She was not quite yet comfortable with her transition, and I did not wish to make her feel any more uncomfortable if at all I could help it. I gazed upon her... one day it would be him... and I was very happy for her achievement. She had a very slender body, now appearing very much like a teenage boy's, and immaculately beautiful facial feathers beneath her heavy makeup. She intended to keep those features, she told me. “I will not go so far that I wish to lose that!” she explained when I had asked her about this several nights before. Her attire was functional for her role... a loose black sleeveless jumpsuit, over which she wore a thin, transparent red robe with full sleeves gathered at the wrists. Her lips were black, her eye makeup was black and thick, yet her eyes did not disappear into the darkness. Rather, a silvery light shone out from them occasionally... when she was deepest in thought... and even when that light did not shine, the odd coloration of them drew one's attention quickly enough. “I remember when they were brown.” I stated, when first they changed following her completion of certain... tests. “And now they will be green!” she exclaimed. Green, with no whites in them anywhere. And that strange silvery light that sometimes had the effect of a computer's power light blinking on and then off. Some like her developed totally red eyes and still others blue, while for some it was black or even white. There were names for each color grade as well... Blood Eyes for red. Sky Eyes for blue. Void Eyes for black, and Milk Eyes for white. In the case of my companion, the name for her all green eyes was Gaia Eyes. She was rather proud of that. Her head was totally shaved save for a long black ponytail near the back of the top of her head, kept up and back in an ornate gold cone decorated with black runic writing. She kept her ponytail died that dark color, and it reached all the way to her lower back. That was as long as she allowed it to grow, so as to still be manageable. Once, her hair was short... but that was before the tests. Before the changes. Now, she was almost... but not quite... somebody else. “What was my previous name?” she asked me as we stood gazing out the viewing window, looking upon the world of Ra'qia which we were soon to orbit.
“Kor'ha, that was your name before... but you died. Then they brought you back, but with not even a bit of a memory of your life prior. What name did they give you now?” I explained and inquired at the same time. She looked at me, a bit puzzled by the sound of her old name, and said instantly: “Pet'ra. They named me Pet'ra, just before initiating me into the order. They said I had lived with you down on the surface of the Holy Planet back in the days of the Elemental Wars. What can you tell me of this?” and I stated honestly: “I can recall but little since they brought me back as well. I have inquired of the masters of the rebirth capsules, but they refuse to tell me anything at all, saying it would be detrimental for me to remember too much at one time. They spoon feed me a little here and even less there, and I feel like a child learning everything all over again. But when I am with you... it feels right.” and Pet'ra smiled, nodded in agreement, and stated: “That is my experience also! The spoon feeding, the sense that you and I were meant to walk together in life. The frustration at not being able to fully remember what came before. The feeling of being... like a newborn... in many ways.” And her pale white hands found their way into my gloved hands... and it felt good. Despite her bone white pallor, she was warm and in the months to come when she was ready to be called “he” I would truly love him just the same.
In the drop-ship, Pet'ra scanned a data scroll regarding the part of the planet we were to be descending unto. “Humid climate, probably due to underground water and heavy rains... which just evaporate after a day or two. They always do! Nothing green for miles... and even then, the type of trees that grow in sparse groups here and there are abnormal in appearance. Ancient ruins... including, some kind of vast palace complex... which all our dating methods have found to be impossibly old. As in... before even recorded history began! Broken machinery everywhere, like a junkyard. Honestly, darling... it looks as if a war raged here. One that produced not even a trace of those who perished in it, either in terms of bones or survivors. They may as well have just... vanished.” And I had a flash of a memory, an older woman saying to me: “It is a war of extermination! There are to be no survivors.” and I felt true dread.
Months later, nearly one full year since our landing... Pet'ra had fully transitioned... his voice was no longer quite as high or lilting as once it had been. It was still lighter than any man I was accustomed to previously, and somewhat melodic in tone. He could always hit the high note every time whenever he sang, and when he recited poetry to me, as he often did, I was captivated like a little child listening to its' mother raptly while being read a beloved story. He was precisely as he had wished to be, and I was happy for him. Our love had not diminished, and on this day we were in the reconstructed sections of the palace gardens, overseeing the clearing away of all remaining rubble. Water was flowing in the old fountains... and trees, flowers, and plants of every variety were being grown in the gardens, their growth accelerated with special chemicals which safely saw to their full development. The water was pumped up from below... we had discovered the secret caches below the palace within the first few weeks of our arrival. They were the priority at that point in time. Now, we planned to restore the palace to its' former glory. We found familiar places where we walked in the before-days... and sometimes, I would recall a thing while at other times it would be Pet'ra that would do so. We always told each other immediately, upon such a recollection. There were others with us... whole teams of scientists, craftsmen, laborers and history experts. Archaeologists, ecologists, planetologists, farmers and families all looking to restart life in this long desolate region of the Holy Planet. Those were there as well, in no small numbers. More of them had come every week it seemed, and we did not doubt more still were planning to arrive before the end of the year. Pet'ra discovered several totally blocked chambers where blasted rubble had sealed the entrances in bygone times... and he set the workmen to clearing it away. “I think that you will not like what you find in there!” he cautioned me as I came over to have a look. “What do you mean?” I asked, and Pet'ra replied sadly: “You should not wish to find out.” but I insisted that I did, and so I was with the expedition team that was sent to explore the newfound chambers. I felt... a nauseous anxiety.
They had been a series of living chambers for a noble house. I saw the emblem of the House of Fire, an ancient banner riddled with slash marks and partially burned at the bottom. The detailed symbol of a blood red griffon with the curved horns of a ram, a flaming sword clutched in its' sharp claws. That was the heraldry represented upon the very tattered cloth of the banner. Heaped about the chambers here and there were the skeletons of soldiers in smashed black armor, their skulls bearing slash marks and holes. Some of the dead soldiers had been charred as if in a fire, as much of the room appeared. I felt the flash of an old memory returning unbidden unto me: “Get more men to the living chambers! Put out the fire, put out the fire!” I was the one screaming this. “If they wish to slaughter us to the last... we will go out with honor!” But this had been in the ancient days of the Elemental Wars. The life I was trying still to remember. I knelt before several of the soldiers, and wept. “I knew these men and women once. We had broke bread together, fought together, bled together... but we did not die together. I could not join them on this one occasion, for I had to be in the city beyond the palace to assist in fighting the rebel forces. That is what spared me their terrible fate!” Pet'ra walked up behind me, and whispered: “One of those uncleared chambers was yours back then. Do not go in there though! Not just yet... not after this tragic discovery. Give us time to examine things first, and we will so call for you when it is wisest to do so.”
I stood outside the palace, brooding on the past. Beneath the great mounds of sand I now knew lay the ruins of what was once the grand capital city of the Holy Planet. The native guide told us that to them it was called “Edenkyn”, and the palace held the same name. “The place where all life began.” the guide had gasped reverently. There was nothing older in all the known universe. “And here, my life once met its' end.” I remembered. “Those were dark days, savage times... when men killed each other for all that remained of the planet's resources, heedless of the damage to the environment.” Pet'ra had informed me rather clinically. “I was different. I fought for my people!” I had replied. “I know. I did too.” he stated.
They had opened the chambers that used to be my own and said I could enter freely without fear. By that time, the long dead soldiers from the other chambers had all been taken away by the archaeologists and I felt less ill at ease walking through the old burned living area to my long-ago chambers beyond. This was beyond familiar to me! I did not even need the guide to show me the way. These rooms had been spared the blaze that had claimed the rest of the living areas. Within them, there was another of the banners of the House of Fire, this one in far better shape as it hung upon the far wall. And, I saw all of my old furniture, the shelves upon which still sat my old treasures that I was ever fond of displaying. Figurines, dolls, statuettes and crystal sculptures of a great variety. Many of these items could have just belonged to some small child. A stuffed animal lay in a corner... a large black spider with big eyes and a smile-like expression on its' plush maw. I reached over to pet it, an old instinct from the before-days, and it was still soft even after all this time. However, the thick layers of dust and cobwebs that covered everything in that place made it obvious that not a thing there was untouched by time. “Be careful with everything here, it is certainly fragile after all the centuries that have passed!” Pet'ra cautioned me as he entered the room. “Some of these things... may be expected to fall apart when we try to move them off for study.” he explained to me. “I do not want my things 'studied'.” I said tensely to him. “So, you are beginning to remember then!” my companion remarked in visible awe. “Yes... I am.” I remarked. “And these things... are dear to me. Treat them with love, not as relics from some old tomb to be picked and studied and taken apart. I want these things... preserved... for all time if possible. Not destroyed!” and Pet'ra promised me: “I will personally give the order to preserve these things then and clean them as much as can be done safely. Will you lay claim to them, then, and recognize them as your property?” I agreed to do precisely that. “Very good then, darling! I will have you sign the necessary papers after I have spoken with the archaeologists and informed them of yours and my wishes in this matter.” And then he hurried off to see that all this was set into motion. “I... loved these things... long ago. Cherished them, and protected them.” I said aloud to myself. I opened a closet and saw in it all of my old clothes. Styles suitable for any gender... most of them red and black, and purple. I always had exquisite taste, and it seemed that these clothes were suited for comfort and style rather than functionality. Even now, the red robes I wore as I stood in that place were little different than anything I saw within that closet. I found an ancient book, and within it was ink handwriting. My own, as it was thousands of years ago.
The scholars were able to translate it, since I could not in my present existence understand the ancient language in which the book was written. “It was a record of various events from your life.” Pet'ra had to explain to me. “I can understand the language and read it to you, if you wish it.” and I explained that I did indeed wish to hear all that it contained. The telling was long, and what I shall now relate to you is all that was related to me. What I had penned when still the House of Fire ruled from that great palace.
I “When of old I lived on the ancient world of Ra'qia, which in some of the ancient texts is referred to as Kolob and Kobol... I had many lifetimes there across countless centuries, and I was known there by equally as many names. During the period of that planet's history in which the feud between the House of Fire and that of Water raged nigh unchecked, I had served the House of Fire for the longest time. The ruler of that house, Cyndijaz Megg, took a liking to me and adopted me into her family as one of their own... even though not a drop of blood was in common between us. In her service, I was ever ruthless and often without mercy towards our enemies, and many of those foes came to regard me as demonic in nature. Times were brutal back then, and one often might have ended up slain had they not cultivated such a colorful persona. Though I was not overly close with Megg, despite her own adoration of me, I was madly infatuated with her younger sister Caleo in whom I sensed a kindred spirit. Caleo was, for the most part, very gentle by nature but she could also be quite wild indeed, highly unpredictable and like myself quite cruel unto enemies of the house. She was a woman of the deepest feelings and intense passions, and that was more than all else what drew me to her. Just as they called me the Demon King, they called Caleo the Crimson Child, and when we took to the field of battle together, to vanquish our foes side by side... it was a sight both beautiful and terrible to behold. In contrast to that image... during peacetime, she and I together created magnificent works of art which often Megg put on display. We wrote moving poetry even and music that was sung by bards and minstrels across all our lands. And, we aided Megg in the raising of the ruler's beloved daughter Kor'nelia. Even in the chasms of blackest Hell, a demon must be an angel sometimes, in order to be true to oneself! (And thereafter was an illustration inked and colored upon the page, with the following text written to explain all the details of what it was intended to represent.) In this picture you see here... I, was the noble with the shaved head standing in the middle, dressed all in black. The girl with the blood-red hair standing with her arms folded, she was Caleo. And the blonde woman with the totally blue eyes, that same was Jemi'ann, and she was herself a diplomatic representative of the House of Air. This scene I have sketched for posterity shows we three by one of the windows of a space-traveling vessel, in orbit around a water planet... the surface of which was covered by a thick layer of ice. We were on a mission to collect some water from that planet so that we could bring it back to Ra'qia in order to bolster our stocks of water there. Being a mostly arid world, water was often scarce on Ra'qia and one could not always find it by digging underground in search of it. In those leaner times, it was necessary to bring water from off-world and to fill up large constructed reservoirs with it so that the people would never have to do without such an essential thing. And, for such off-world water retrieval missions, the advanced technologies employed by the House of Air were ever essential... and it was for that reason, Jemi'ann came along with us on the occasion depicted here.”
There was a long, extended pause after Pet'ra recited this portion of my ancient writings unto me. He took a glass and filled it with the blood-red nectar of the addictive Delos fruit... which had the seeming appearance of a red apple, the texture of an orange, and it was said the taste of a pomegranate. His eyes flashed totally silver for some time after imbibing this, and then became green once again. “Forgive me, my darling... I needed the boost to continue this recitation. There is so very much within these writings! And I would not wish my throat to go dry midway either. Now, let us continue where we had left off...”
II “I was not the only one so adopted, by Megg... there was, of course, one other. A recently orphaned girl who was named Phae'rathi. She had lost both of her parents during the early wars, at a very young age, and grew up only knowing Megg as her mother and myself as her older sibling. So, because of just how violently her actual parents had died... slaughtered in their own home before her very eyes, cut to bloody pieces without ever having had the chance to defend themselves... Phae'rathi became obsessed with making certain that such a cruel fate could never befall her. She trained every day in various styles of combat, with whatever weapons she could easily make use of. She had all of the best instructors, but there were limits to what they could teach her, and soon those limits began to irritate the girl. Her entire childhood was spent thus, in the pursuit of mastering the arts of self-defense and unarmed combat. By the time she reached her early teen years, Megg decided that I should take over her training... and make her into as great and deadly a warrior as I was in those days. Before her sixteenth birthday, she had fully mastered countless weapons... and by the time her birthday of that very year had at last come on around, she had actually surpassed me in terms of speed, skill, and the deadliest accuracy. She was lethal death incarnate, and I knew in my heart that she would indeed never perish in the awful way that her parents had! She often begged me to allow her to participate in the various lethal tournaments that were hosted at the local arena. I knew that those battles were always fought to the bloody death, and I was afraid for my little sister... for though I knew her skill was truly great, even so all it would take was one slip, one distraction and I might lose her soul forever. Also, she had never actually killed, and not one had ever actually tried to kill her. I knew only what she was capable of, and it was that which I had confidence in... but I think that deep down I never truly wished to put it to the test. For I had come to love the girl very much indeed over the long years, and I knew her death would break my heart! Yet, despite all of my most heartfelt protestations, Megg declared that Phae'rathi's reckless wishes were to be granted. She arranged for the girl to fight in the arena, the very week of her sixteenth birthday... and demanded that I be there at the royal balcony overlooking the arena, to witness what transpires. I was given not a choice but to comply... and what I witnessed that day shocked me to my core. Phae'rathi did not simply survive her trials by deadly combat... she relished in each and every bloody victory she scored, her (mad?) eyes practically glowing with delight at each solitary life she took. Oh, she could indeed kill! It was as I had suspected... her skill had indeed made her lethal death incarnate. But, she was like an animal that had been caged too long, a beast that had at last been unleashed. And I, was the demon who had unleashed her for all to see! Megg was not there, herself, to witness the grisly, gory spectacle. She was not there to hear the name the crowds gave Phae'rathi, what they chanted so very loudly in the girl's scarlet honor: “Azra'ella! Azra'ella! Azra'ella!” The name's meaning was not lost on me. It meant: “Death Goddess” as well as “Death Angel”. And so her legend began... in time, she became the champion of the arena, and my personal champion on the field of battle. We conquered together, and often we cried ourselves to sleep together when we feared that we were losing our humanity. The Demon King and the Angel of Death they called us. But we were not monsters! During the unspeakably horrible military campaign in which Cyndijaz Megg personally led an army to exterminate her bitter rival, Nexinia-Din the ruler of the House of Water... we witnessed first-hand the slaughter of Nexinia-Din and her people, the horrors and the atrocities Megg committed on that day, and it was all too much for us to bear. Something inside of my little sister snapped... and she seemed as one possessed. I believe it was because this caused her to remember how her parents had been butchered so very long ago. She vowed, then and there, to make Megg pay for such crimes... and indeed as fate would have it, Megg would come to pay, though not by Phae'rathi's hands. But that is a different story! This one is about Phae'rathi, after all... who abandoned her old name in that fateful instant, choosing Azra'ella evermore. Today... she is still remembered... as Azrael, who is yet both revered and feared in turns as the legendary Angel of Death. The native people in particular believe in this superstition. Azra'ella exploits this legend for all it is worth! Her gold mask inspires the worst sort of fear in all who behold her when she wears it. I fear this will be her undoing!”
And after this, Pet'ra cleared his throat and looked at me concernedly. “Some of this is very personal, what comes next. I just want you to be prepared for that. It details someone you loved very deeply, or at least were rather extremely infatuated with. I shall tell you the lady's name when we come to it. So...”
III “The generosity of Cyndijaz Megg was legendary... she was generous, some could argue, to a fault! For my years of loyal service to her, and to her house, she so rewarded me with my own palace. It had once belonged to an enemy faction that we had driven out long ago, but had long after been purchased by a wealthy oil refinery manager who had died when an oil tank ruptured, causing an explosion which necessitated the closing down of his refinery. He left all of his wealth to his young widow, a lady whose nobility of spirit was less well known than her penchant for dabbling in the darkest of all mystical arts. Her name was Par'litu, and she was actively seeking to marry again at the time when I came to inform her that I would be taking over ownership of the palace. She would be allowed to stay there... another testament to Megg's generous nature... but only if she wished to. If she desired to leave and seek a new home elsewhere, then she was well free to go and do as she pleased. Either way, she would not ever be homeless... since she had a considerable fortune, that she was wise enough never to have squandered foolishly. She could have probably purchased another such palace elsewhere, but on the occasion of my visit to her, she smiled somewhat aloofly and asked me in an almost cold, matter of fact-like tone if I would consent to be her husband. She was very beautiful indeed... with long, straight hair which was an unusual shade of purple, and large dark eyes that were so truly black it was like looking into the void of space when gazing into them. Her skin was far, far whiter and paler than mine was, and in the body that I exist in during this life, my own skin is so very pale to the point of almost appearing to have mostly a bleached white quality to it. But Par'Litu... she had seemed almost to be a creature not of this physical reality. Her skin seemed almost to glow, under certain lighting, and she informed me that although the black gown she was wearing, she chose to honor her deceased husband... she actually preferred to wear black all the time. There was something unsettling about how familiar she felt to me, but I felt a strange sort of attraction to her that was undeniable. When looking into her eyes... I could refuse her nothing. I agreed to her proposal, and discovered to my delight that she was not cold at all, but rather possessed of a hidden fire, a passionate heart, and a soul of tremendous depth. We had much in common, as well... both of us practiced the arts of black magic, both of us had studied ancient texts of forbidden lore, and both of us hid from the world (but not from each other) the secret that in fact we were ancient beings who had existed even at that time for long centuries beyond counting. In many forms, throughout many ages, we had walked... and though our current bodies at that time were physical, we ourselves were so much more! She learned and came to know all of my names, and I learned and came to know hers. My love for her was boundless, and I asked her once if it had been this way between her previous husband and her. She said it had not... for he had been everything I was not... he had been cold to her, even cruel sometimes, and did not share her true interests, her beliefs, or her passions in life. She never mourned his passing, only appearing to in public for appearances sake prior to meeting me... and she bade me not to ever speak of him again. And so I did not. She loved red roses, and kept a circular garden of them in the palace courtyard, surrounding a jet black obelisk. But she had a dark side! Just as men called me Demon King, so too was she feared by many and not for no reason. I discovered chambers of the palace in which piles of skulls decorated the floor in places. There were basins filled with wine made to look as if they were basins of blood. And all of the guards and servants were but silent automatons. I asked her whose skulls those were, and she told me how long ago the old rival faction we had driven out from that palace had seen to the execution of countless innocents in order to sow fear in their enemies. There was a mass grave hidden in the palace's lowest chambers, far beneath the dungeons, and that was where she had gotten the skulls. She kept them as she did, to honor the memory of all those slain... the wine in the basins made to look exactly like blood was done as a reminder of the innocent blood that had been shed. And the automatons were because she did not trust strangers, feeling a comfort in the machines' quiet loyalty. She often used magic in order to communicate with those lost souls, to urge them to seek peaceful rest. Knowing all of this, made me love Par'litu that much more... for her kindness towards the dead was a most uncommon one. When I eventually left the service of the House of Fire, Par'litu came with me... and although we came to dwell in other homes, even other palaces... we always remembered that one. In the great palace where we now reside, she breathed her last... and I met not her like again.”
Suddenly, Pet'ra's sparkling green eyes lit up before he read on. “This next part... it is all about me! I mean, you said my name had been Kor'ha, did you not? This is... my whole history from that existence. I can scarcely believe the luck of finding this book! It reveals so much about us... just listen unto this...”
IV “Cynder, as Megg was more popularly called, had a sister named Caleo who was gentle in spirit... and a daughter named Kor'nelia, who had spent more time in the care of Caleo than she ever had in the care of her own mother. For the earliest years of her life, Kor'nelia had another whose hand helped to shape her life's course. A woman named Andrea, who spent much of her own young life studying to be a teacher and a mentor for children in need of such. Andrea was said to have been a child prodigy back in the earliest years of her own youth, and was regarded as a genius whose intellect made her ideal for many tasks. Unknown to most, some of those tasks were secret ones, and those same were conducted on behalf of rulers such as Cyndijaz Megg herself. Such shadowy tasks of which I so speak, involved spying, assassination when called for, and the sabotage of enemies' scientific projects and facilities. On one such mission for the House of Fire, Andrea was sent to steal a prototype for a new hydro-electric energy generator that had been invented by the rival House of Water. She was then given the false name Cora, and instructed to infiltrate a certain compound and steal the plans for the generator without being caught. She was to return to the House of Fire and give the plans to the matriarch herself. It was to take no longer than but one month to conduct this entire operation. But something went wrong, and Andrea's lifeless corpse was sent back to Cyndijaz Megg, whose anger was said to be tremendous. Once she had calmed down, Cynder called for her top scientists to find a way to resurrect Andrea. Failing that... they were to find another with equal talents and skills to replace her. Unable to bring her back to life, due to Andrea having been dead for too long for the technologies invented for that purpose to ever work... they instead cloned her and accelerated the growth of the clone to adulthood. Previously, the scientists had made a precise copy of Andrea's brain, and had on file an artificial intelligence program created from the woman's thoughts, personality, experiences, and all that made her who she was. They put the copied brain into the new body, implanted it with cybernetics, and downloaded the artificial intelligence into the new brain. The body's old brain, due to an accident that had occurred during the cloning, had been lifeless. So it was disposed of. Once she had healed fully from those operations that were by necessity performed on her during the course of all this, the woman who had up until now been known as Andrea insisted on only being called Cora. And though she was never supposed to... she had fully remembered the details of her death at the hands of the hated House of Water. Things the copied brain and artificial intelligence version of her could never possibly have been able to recall, thus since Andrea's death took place long after their creation. It seemed, that somehow she had indeed been resurrected after all! They gave her the new name of Kor'ha, which she was agreeable to as it was similar enough to Cora. Over the next several years, she fell back into her role as a teacher and as a mentor for Kor'nelia, and it was seemingly as if she had never died. In secret, she began to conduct assassination missions to slay each and every one of the people who had been involved in her death. Many top scientists of the House of Water, and several of their soldiers, turned up horrifically murdered around that time... and the reports were, that a somewhat short young woman with unnatural physical strength had been the one who dealt each of those people their mortal wounding. For Kor'ha had changed... she had become far darker, and more bent on revenge against any whom she regarded as enemies of the House of Fire. Caleo feared, that this woman who had long been her best friend had become twisted by her death and resurrection. Kor'ha kept implanting herself with various devices in order to boost her own intelligence, until it was said to have surpassed even the top-most scientists of her time. Eventually, she replaced her eyes as well, with silver cybernetic ones which could see all that humans can see but infinitely more as well. Seeing how this frightened Caleo, Kor'ha had the eyes altered to look more like her old, natural eyes. Over time, Caleo's fears subsided... at least somewhat... and the family grew used to the new form and personality of their old friend. Her enemies, however, grew to fear her... when they survived her wrath at all, which was only when she permitted them to. And then only so that they could spread tales of her mercilessness, that others might grow to fear her displeasure, and that of the matriarch she served! In time, when the House of Fire's glory days had passed and peace with the House of Water was attained, Kor'nelia grew quite close with Aquarius of Water, with Kor'ha serving as mentor and teacher to them.”
Pet'ra then exclaimed: “But then one day, zealots of the House of Water exploded a poison capsule in the ventilation system leading to my chambers, causing my death. I was... not resurrected... after that. I shall read no further from this book, I think, at least for now. Let us go check on the workers for a bit.” And he never again spoke to me of his final days from that previous existence... for they so pained him.
Before the next week was out, the workers had uncovered the crypt of Par'litu... and the guide ran in terror from the underground hall in which it lay. He loudly screamed the following, his face sweating with visible fear: “The Demon's bride! We... have found where she yet slumbers. We must not disturb her rest! Seal the chamber... for the love of all, seal it fast!” but the workers naturally ignored the man's shrill ranting. I hurried to look upon that place, Pet'ra at my side to give me courage. And there... in the center of four slender columns entwined with the stylized images of serpents, in the precise center of the square vault... was an ornately carved sarcophagus with the image of a coldly beautiful woman upon the entirety of the lid. The image was frighteningly lifelike. “I will have to confirm that she is in there.” stated Pet'ra dispassionately. “You may want to look away.” he said to me, looking at me sternly. “You are, in many ways, a child. As you were... in those before-days. This is not a sight you should witness!”
And, I looked away as they opened the lid of Par'litu's final resting place. I heard Pet'ra exclaim in a shocked manner: “This is a very advanced form of mummification. It is indeed she, the woman written of in the book we found. The Countess Par'litu herself.” I then bolted on over to take a look, as if I were one possessed, and though decayed with time the remains were indeed that of my former love. “Litu!” I shrieked, my eyes filled with tears as though her death had occurred but days previous. She still wore the old black gown that she had worn when first we met, when she dressed for her previous husband's passing. It was my own personal request that she be buried in that gown in particular and none other. I wanted to remember her always as I had seen her on that first day, not as she was in her decline... when illness took her due to the palace's water reserves having become tainted by enemy spies and saboteurs. I could bear to look no more. I closed my eyes... caressed her hair... and whispered close to her head: “Go back to sleep, Litu! I am sorry for waking you, my love. Sleep well, until the universe is changed.” After which, they closed the lid and never again was it opened. The chamber was sealed and marked, so that we would always know where it was. “This is indeed, a holy place.” I said, once all was completed.
Pet'ra at last confided something in me, once we were back in the gardens again: “You know, when I died from that poison gas... Aquarius of Water perished as well. They had slain their own ruler, just to claim my life. But Kor'nelia survived, and went on to avenge us. Your death was most brutally violent, my darling Count... you did not live long past the tragic passing of your beloved Countess Par'litu. War is always tragic, and the innocent and guilty alike perish in the throes of it. One day, they will do a full excavation of the city outside and beyond this palace, and there they will find your own remains. I do not want you to see them, and I plan for us to be off-planet when they begin that task.” I agreed with him about that. “I have seen enough ghosts of the past here already, sweet Pet'ra! I could take no more I think, and remain sane.” and early the next year we departed for the hive ship while the workers did the first excavations for the old capital city. I began to wonder... if they did not have my remains from that life, how did they bring me back in that current one! How was I still living, with full memories coming back to me more and more of that previous existence? And then, the truth was discovered when they found my headless corpse in the ruins of the ancient city, my loyal guards and retainers all around me. All of us had perished to the last, defending our home. Somehow... someone took my head away from the scene of my death, and it eventually passed into the hands of those who had brought be back to life by making use of genetic material taken from it. I was never told the whole story, and all inquiries into it were ignored. One day, I said to Pet'ra: “Pet'ra, my sweet one... could you do me a favor? Go and see if it might be possible to use some genetic material taken from Par'litu, in order that she might possibly be brought back the same way that you and I were. We live in an age of miracles, after all!” and he did agree to my request. In time, she would live again and I would be reunited with her. We would return to the great palace together on the Holy Planet... and we would live out our newly bought days, in peace.
Published 6th Apr 2022
| Edited 23rd Apr 2024
Author's Note
Based upon some of my more ancient past-life memories.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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