The Ashes of Worlds

Though engineers had brought blazers to light the underground chambers, it had become Ridek’h’s habit to slip out and use surreptitiously gathered brushwood to build a modest fire — asafe fire. Sitting by the bright flames outside the mine entrance, he looked out into the never-ending daylight of multiple suns, and contemplated. Though he was no more than a young man with little experience who had become Designate completely by accident, Ridek’h was determined to help.

When the ten thousand Ildirans who had attempted to escape in a single warliner had lost their race against the faeros, he had felt the dagger of pain as all those innocents were incinerated, their soulfires stolen. Ridek’h had considered going with them, but more than a million of his displaced people were here on Ildira, and he would not leave until he found a way to save them.

While he was deep in thought, Tal O’nh joined him. Oftentimes he and the blind man sat side by side for hours without speaking, just drawing strength from each other’s company. The veteran’s face was still scarred and burned by the faeros; one socket was empty, and the other eye was milky and sightless, partially covered by a shriveled lid.

Upon becoming the new Hyrillka Designate, Ridek’h had gone to visit his planet and all the splinter colonies in the Horizon Cluster, accompanied by Tal O’nh and a septa of warliners. Their encounter with an enraged Rusa’h and his obedient fireballs had left all of the warliners’ crews dead, two of the warliners destroyed, and the tal’s eyesight blasted away.

Blindness would have driven most Ildirans insane, but O’nh was strong. Outside the mine opening, the orange glow of the small fire played across his face, though he couldn’t see it. “I can endure,” he told Ridek’h. “Long ago, knowing that I might lose my remaining eye, I made up my mind never to live with anxiety and fear. Humans can tolerate darkness whenever they choose, and if humans can survive this, then I certainly can.”

“You are brave, Tal O’nh.”

The veteran made a dismissive gesture. “I have merely had practice. You will find your own courage, should it become necessary.”

“We will need more than courage to drive out Rusa’h and his faeros.”

“You have what you need.You are the true Hyrillka Designate, and Jora’h is the true Mage-Imperator — titles Rusa’h now attempts to claim for himself. He will not succeed.”

The young man nodded before remembering that the tal could not see him. “I will hold on to hope if you tell me to.”

The blind tal leaned closer to the fire and extended his hands as if to draw the light into his skin. “There is real reason for confidence, Designate. Though he has vanished, we know the Mage-Imperator is not dead. We can still sense him, however distant he may be. Jora’h lives.”

Ridek’h considered that. When the previous Mage-Imperator had poisoned himself, their entire race had been crippled by mental shock and misery. Likewise, all Ildirans would have felt Jora’h’s death like a discordant scream through thethism. Therefore, Jora’h remained alive. but where was he?

“Has he abandoned us?”

“I do not believe so. I must assume that something prevents him from returning.”

With the Mage-Imperator missing, Mijistra lost, and the faeros in the Prism Palace, this could well be the worst time the Empire had ever known. Ridek’h knew it was time to demonstrate his confidence, to rally the old veteran. “Tal, we have every opportunity to make things better. And I swear we will.”

21

Mage-Imperator Jora’h

Jora’h gazed at Nira, touched her cheek one last time, then stoically turned to follow Admiral Diente and his military escort.Diente. The Mage-Imperator barely acknowledged the man who had ambushed his flagship.

The Admiral’s claim that he had been following the Chairman’s orders did not exempt him from blame. By kidnapping him, Diente might have single-handedly doomed the Ildiran Empire, allowing all of Jora’h’s people to be consumed by the faeros.

The dark-haired officer showed little expression as he walked along. “We have finished our inspection and analysis of your warliner, Mage-Imperator. All seems to be in working order, and we’re ready to depart.”

“So, you fixed the damage your own EDF ships inflicted upon it?” Jora’h said, staring ahead. “Are you certain you understand Solar Navy systems?”

Diente answered crisply, “Our engineers acquired a working knowledge of Ildiran warliners when we helped repair many of your vessels after the hydrogue battle here. We put that knowledge to good use.” He paused, then added apologetically, “Our shots were precisely targeted when we subdued your ship. We caused no more harm than was absolutely necessary.”

“You cannot begin to know how much harm you have caused, Admiral.”

As he ushered Jora’h aboard the warliner, Diente gave a slight, stiff bow, but averted his dark eyes. “I will show you to your accustomed stateroom. However, once we depart, my orders are to allow minimal interaction between yourself and my crew. You are to have privacy and solitude.”

Jora’h felt a chill in his soul. Already missing Nira, he tried to reinforce the strength of his heart and mind against the coming ordeal. “And do you understand what that will do to me, leaving the other Ildirans here on the Moon?”

Judging by his mannerisms, he guessed that even Diente did not approve of what Chairman Wenceslas was doing. but then, the Chairman no longer sought approval from anyone. “I understand that I have no choice in the matter.”

Jora’h shook his head bitterly. “I thought humans always have a choice.”

“Then you don’t have all the pertinent facts. Follow me.” In leading him up the ramp and along the primary corridors, Diente made a point of showing him all the troops stationed aboard the warliner. “Though this is only a test cruise, we have five hundred EDF soldiers aboard. Please don’t make me do anything I would regret.”

“I am not a fool, Admiral Diente. I must stay alive so that I can save my people. No matter how long it takes.”

“We have an understanding, then.” Diente gestured him into his former elaborate cabin, the large stateroom he had shared with Nira. The entire vessel seemed cold and bleak without her, without his crew.

The Admiral sealed the door behind him. Jora’h did not check to see if it was locked. He didn’t want to know the answer.

Chairman Wenceslas had not bothered to see him off, though no doubt every moment, every movement had been recorded. The Chairman was probably smiling with smug self-congratulation for coming up with this strategy.

For now, with the warliner still orbiting above the lunar base, Jora’h could feel thethism from the Ildiran captives nearby. Later, though, when he felt the warliner’s engines powering up and the great Solar Navy ship began to cruise away, the tenuous lines became more diffuse, stretched out. His people quickly slipped farther away.