Between Darkness and Light Trilogy (34 page)

~~~

The next morning I answer the door expecting
servants, and instead am greeted by Lucian!

He smiles, “I trust you enjoyed your morning
bath?”

I glance down at my light dressing gown,
dampened by my still dripping hair. “Ah… excuse me, I didn’t expect
you this morning.” I rush toward the bedroom and hear over my
shoulder,

“May I come in and set out our
breakfast?”

“Of course! I’ll be just a moment!” Oh
Shi'ahn, how could you be so stupid? I cast a drying spell upon
myself and throw on the first dress I see, a bit more revealing
than I would have chosen if given the time, but as it is…

He smiles when I return, “Ah yes, I’ve
always liked that one.” My confusion must be terribly obvious, he
continues, “I’ve seen no reason to remove her belongings, she had
fine tastes.” I’m not sure if I should be thanking him for allowing
me to stay here or apologizing for disturbing his wife's
belongings. “Come join me, Shi'ahn, you are hungry, aren’t
you?”

“Yes, but why are you bringing me
breakfast?” He chuckles,

“I reached a good time to take a break from
the interrogations and it just made sense to join you for breakfast
instead of eating alone in the guards' kitchen.” He gestures toward
a cart that had followed him inside, and it converts into a table
with two plates and a lot of food to choose from. Chairs slide over
from the existing table. “I find there is less mess to clean up if
I just use a converting server. I take it you do not use such
things on your homeworld?”

“Ah… no. On Shiral we do not mix the use of
technology with pure sorcery. You see, technology use is banned on
most of Shiral.”

He looks surprised. “It is? It works and yet
is suppressed?”

“That was the way of tradition. Individuals
who persisted in using technology after being warned against it
were deported to the stony realm at the bottom of our world after
their third offense. It was intended as a death sentence.”

“You put those who utilize technology to
death?” His distaste is obvious.

“No, I don’t! I put an end to the practice
as soon as I was able, but in truth my efforts were not necessary.
You see, the technologists are a creative lot – they learned how to
survive, even to thrive in that land, long ago. After the exiles
quit arriving we received an astounding envoy from that place. They
wanted to know why no new recruits were being sent to them. After
they understood what had happened, they allowed me access to their
realm. I studied with them, when my schedule permitted – though I
did not tell my people what I was doing there. But in their land,
sorcery was outlawed. I couldn’t blame them, of course.”

“No, of course not.” Saying nothing more, he
leans back and just looks at me.

“What? Why are you looking at me like
that?”

“I just find it hard to believe that someone
like you, someone who says things like 'All life is sacred' could
come from a world that executed people for simply preferring
technology over sorcery.”

“Ah, I suppose I should tell you the full
history. You see, long ago, technologists were merely considered
odd, eccentric. Eventually, though, they developed machines to take
them into space. They were fascinated with the visions made visible
by the Lunarium, and sought to reach the sparkles of light above
us. All was fine until they tried to pass beyond the moons.”

“What happened – did they burn up?”

“No, they just slowed down to a complete
standstill. No one was hurt, but no matter what they did, they
could not cross that line. They became desperate, enraged; they
came to believe that our moons were imprisoning us. One group even
went so far as to try to destroy a moon, hoping that would weaken
the barrier and allow them through.”

“What happened, did they damage the
moon?”

“No. Just like their ships, the energy blast
slowed down, stopped, but then reversed very quickly – their ship
was destroyed before they could even try to evade it. It was a very
dramatic explosion – it wasn't long at all before the cause, and
what led to it, was discovered. At first they were merely censured,
and forced to pay a tremendous fine for their act. The fine, to be
paid in metals, was intended also to remove their ability to create
more ships. We didn't understand their resources. All seemed quiet
for a while, but they managed to secretly land another ship on a
moon and plant explosives. They riddled the moon with them, but
didn't detonate any until they had safely returned to Shiral. When
they did…”

“Was the moon destroyed?”

“No, but it was displaced; forced out of
it's proper orbit. The effect on Shiral was astounding – the sun
seemed to flare in response, blinding those unfortunate enough to
have looked up to see what was happening. The temperature rose
startlingly…” It had always been a story from ancient history to
me, but now that I understand the truth of Shiral, the true horror
of it strikes me like lightening.

“Shi'ahn, are you alright?”

Act normal! He can't know the truth. “Ah,
yes. Sorry. It is said that a strange voice rang out from the
heavens, no one understood the language, but then the light dimmed
to proper levels, the temperature began to drop back to normal, and
the voice rang out again, this time in true words. It said, “Don't
do that again!” That incident brought about the first worldwide
cooperative effort on Shiral – all Technologists were taken from
their homes and placed in a highly guarded valley until the leaders
of all other sects agreed upon their fate. Death, the utter and
absolute annihilation of all technologists, it was declared, was
the only way to make sure they couldn't attempt such a heresy
again. And yet, as the taking of a sacred life was anathema, it was
decided to let Shiral herself exact that toll. The poles of Shiral
are awash in strange, dangerous radiations, and the rock at the
southern pole guaranteed that there would be no shelter available
to any who stayed for long. In an act of almost contrition, the
condemned were allowed to take with them any supplies they deemed
might give them a chance to survive. That minimal act of mercy
carried on throughout the millennia – which, unbeknown to the
people, became critical to the survival of those already in that
radiation blasted land. You see, they tunneled underneath the
surface - deep underneath. They eventually became a far greater
technological power than they had been when free, but they lacked
certain resources that were well provided by new exiles. The intent
behind their exile may have been less than honorable, but the final
result was quite impressive.”

Lucian stares intently at me, “I see. That
makes far more sense, I suppose I can accept that. Now you
mentioned that you studied with them?”

“Yes, when I had the chance.”

“You didn't, by chance, study computer
programming with them, did you?”

“Of course. That much was my duty.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think of it, they had nearly destroyed our
world long ago, and from what I learned recently, they were close
to having all the materials necessary to build space ships again.
In order to protect Shiral, I had to learn about their computer
systems, I had to be in a position to shut them down if I learned
they were doing anything truly dangerous.”

“I see. Perhaps that explains something that
has quite surprised most of us - your unexpected skills in securing
computers.”

I smile, “Aha, so you admit to attempting to
break back into my computer?”

He smiles back, “If I must. So tell me, how
do you, who come from such a less sophisticated world, know enough
about computers to frustrate even the best here in Lumina?”

“The theories are simple, it's my method I
suspect frustrates you.”

“And that method would be?”

“The same that I use for everything.”

“And that is?”

“I'm sorry, Lucian, I do not know how to
describe
hearing
to the deaf. You heard my best attempt at
my first dinner here, I have not found a better way to describe
it.”

“Very well, Shi'ahn, but you should know
that brandishing about unexplained skills, and, for that matter,
outwitting even our best computer specialists, is not a good way to
gain people's confidence here. At least, not when you are seemingly
so young and inexperienced. There are those who have surmised that
it may indeed be you behind our current predicament.”

“What! How could they, they saw what nearly
happened to me! You don't believe them, do you?”

“No, I do not. Your primary accusers are
somewhat prejudiced against you. However, one whom I trust far more
is convinced of your innocence.”

I can't help it, I feel betrayed, even
though you can't truly be betrayed by those who don't at least
seemingly care for you. Lucian continues,

“Don't worry, Shi'ahn, I do not feel that
their accusations are worthy of being passed on to the Emperor.” He
pauses and looks around for a moment, “Tell me, how do you find
your accommodations? Satisfactory, I hope?”

The subject change is rather abrupt, but I
welcome it. “This is a very nice suite, Lucian, and I thank you for
allowing me to stay here. I have truly enjoyed the library, it is
most informative.”

“And the music corner, have you enjoyed it
as well?”

“No… music is most beautiful when there is
the harmony of multiple players. I have been accompanying myself
for far too long; I find little joy in it.” He looks intrigued.

“If we finish our breakfast soon, perhaps
there will be time for me to help you a bit with that.” I do not
need further encouragement, I dig in and eat my fill as fast as I
can, within reason, of course. Lucian smiles slightly as he eats at
a far more leisurely pace. When we are finished, he moves to the
music corner and begins playing the drum set, looking expectantly
at me. I return his playful smile and pick up a violin. First one
note, sounding out both it and the room. When it is time I join in
fully with a theme that speaks both of the sea and of the free,
passionate nature of the gypsy. He casts a spell to keep the rhythm
going, then picks up another instrument. He’s good. We play as such
for a short while, then he tosses me a flute. I toss him the violin
and take up the flute, and our music does not pause in the
slightest. It’s wonderful, we keep switching instruments
flawlessly, then he tosses me one before I am truly finished with
my current one. The music must flow; I extend my mind as I had
learned to do on Shiral, and continue to play the instrument
remotely as I take up my new ‘assignment’.

We toss many instruments between us; I end
up simultaneously controlling nine before the song ends. He is no
slouch either – he is the best musician I’ve played with since
childhood. His smile is like no other I have seen, complex to be
sure, but on the whole, happy.

When our song is at its end I throw myself
into his arms and spin us around. “Lucian, you’re wonderful! I
haven’t had that much fun since…” Since Mathair and I were
together… I let go of him as my thoughts run wild. Do I dare ask
him? Quakes of fear and doubt threaten to overtake me, but I force
the words out quietly, “Lucian… are you my father?” I’m awarded
with something I hadn’t thought possible from him, a briefly
unguarded look of absolutely surprised disbelief.

“Shi'ahn, what has made you suspect that?”
He truly looks confused, my fear fades, but the doubt rises
dramatically.

“You are the most skilled musician I have
met since Mathair, and… well, how do I say this? I’ve often
wondered what the man she loved enough to create a child with must
have been like. My memories of the man who took her away are truly
unimpressive, he couldn’t possibly have been her husband – she
would have loved someone far more… amazing. Music was extremely
important to her, I’m certain my father must have been a musician.
Now, after the wonderful music we just made… I think she would have
loved a man like you.” My words trail off as he continues to stare
at me disbelievingly.

“Tell me, Shi'ahn, are there any other
reasons you now suspect me to be your father?” He looks like he
thinks I’m out of my mind. Sigh.

“I know we got off to a bad start, and I had
even sworn to hate you, but lately you have become far kinder to me
than any other man here; aside from Casanova, but his intentions
are most un-fatherly. I have looked into your eyes as you smiled
down at me – and I have sensed no deception – only happiness. Quite
frankly, I don’t want any of the other men here to be my father. A
man who ignores his own children is no father, he is merely a
donor.” He stays silent for a moment.

“Shi'ahn, I honestly hate to disappoint you,
then, but I assure you that I am not your father.” My heart sinks
like a stone in a bottomless lake - so this is what the phrase
‘dashed hopes’ refers to. “Besides, I can't be your Lumina
ancestor, for I am not of the Nebulaean branch.”

“Lucian, why has everyone here always
assumed I'm a Nebulaean?”

“You don't know?”

“How could I?”

He pauses in thought. “It's for several
reasons, really, but the most obvious is your complexion. You
appear impervious to even the most intense radiation, you even
withstood the direct light of the spire for an entire day without
flushing or tanning in the slightest. For your first ever extended
exposure to it, at least some reaction was expected, especially as
you are not yet attuned to it.”

“Why does that mark me a Nebulaean? Isn't
everyone here impervious to it?”

“The early generations were nearly so, but
we have become more susceptible as the family blood thins. For most
of us, our coloration reflects to a certain extent how much time we
spent outdoors before ascending the Path. You, however, are more
like either the first generations, or like Nebulaea. She was star
stuff at first, you must realize. The legends of her unusual birth
are true. Those of her line are also partially made of the stuff of
the Universe, and so therefore are not susceptible to solar
radiation, or much else, for that matter.”