Chapter 27 #2
"It is reassuring, and a pleasant surprise, to see that the bond between sinnenthi and virra is so strong," said Nizanin, taking a tiny sip of the tea before setting it down again.
"I was skeptical that a human might take to the role well, but he is a singular treasure, Araxis.
He has been a surprise at every turn. It is a pity his physiology does not allow him to lay eggs.
He is strong: he would be a fine –" They used another word I didn't know.
Distantly, I thought I was going to have to redouble my efforts with Inmadra.
There was still so much to learn; there was still so much I didn't know, whole linguistic solar systems yet to be mapped.
Next to me, Araxis had gone very still. His head was tilted so that his undamaged ear was angled toward Nizanin – had that concussive blast damaged his hearing?
– which meant his face was turned more toward me, so I could see the tick of tension at the corner of his jaw.
He blinked once, twice, then exhaled. "Even if it were possible," he said evenly, "I would have Sashen as he is, by my side always.
His value as a – partner, my beloved, comes above all else. "
Nizanin's broad smile remained in place, their crest swaying gently behind them.
"Ah, but you are young and have been away from the empire for too long.
You forget the ways of our people. You will remember, when you again step into the Great Hall and see how far we have fallen.
Certainly, your Thalidi spoke publicly about the importance of tradition.
It is tradition that sustains us and that will help us break the chains that Primus has shackled us with.
'Economic sanctions.'" They said the phrase like it was dirty, shaking their head.
"Not so long ago, there was nothing we needed that we could not provide for ourselves.
You will understand once you are in Xitera, I am certain. "
Araxis inclined his head. "That may be the case, although there are many traditions that Creche Thiel does not consider beneficial or just. We are glad to be of concordance with you that, though our beliefs differ in many ways, we might yet work together against a shared adversary that poses an existential risk to all abaya.
" He blinked once, slow, then said, "Should I expect a meeting with another of your number once I return to the empire?
We have much in our writ that must yet be attended to. "
"Hm. That does depend on if you will be bringing Vivith back into your creche.
They have been a good point of contact. They grasp many of our ways and are curious to learn more.
" The implication, that Araxis did not understand and was not curious, was clear.
His fingers tightened where they rested against my hand.
"Your representative in Xitera should speak with me directly," Araxis said, giving nothing away.
"Very well." Nizanin carefully placed their cup back on the tray and looked as if they were about to rise, before pausing, hands planted on the edge of the table.
"If I might offer a word of advice," they said slowly, "from one arkathi to another: the task of a leader is to envision the destination that is best and to then stride toward it.
Cinelaat are best in this role for that reason: they wayfind, they seek the path forward and lead fearlessly.
Sinnenthi may also do well, but our instincts remain to protect and safeguard, which is why it is essential to surround yourself with cunning arkathi to temper those instincts.
You cannot protect every member of your creche.
Some may not be able to keep up; some may fall from the cliff's edge as we climb the vaunted mount of progress.
Your task is not to gather up every broken and lonely abaya and tend to their feelings.
Your task is to reshape our empire into a place that is not so broken or so corrupt. Do you understand?"
Araxis didn't move, holding himself with that predatory stillness that meant he was feeling something massive and was unwilling to let it show. "Yes, Nizanin," he said after a beat. "I understand. Gratitude for sharing your insights."
Nizanin smiled again, standing. Araxis rose too, offering me a hand, which I took even though the pain had finally drained away.
I still wanted to touch him; I always wanted to touch him.
"I will have my workers remove the bodies," Nizanin said, tucking their hands behind their back as they surveyed the remains of the Naival abaya, the ketaari in the hall.
"You may wish to tend to your virra, Araxis.
I imagine he is distraught. I am certain he did not expect to be attacked where he should have been safest. To see such violence by your side, so many times over?
First upon the sands, and then on Sozamia, and now your creche ship.
I fear three times is the start of a pattern. "
If I'd been abayan, I was certain that the growl I felt rising inside of my chest would have been audible.
As it was, my spine lengthened, the crown of my head drawing upwards as I stared, wide-eyed, at Nizanin.
Next to me, Araxis was stiff and I would bet anything that those words had found their mark.
I licked my lips, because it was better than baring my teeth.
"You are kind to show concern for me," I said in abayan, struggling both for the words and to keep them from coming out in a snarl.
"I am quite well. I am not bothered. As you said, I'm strong.
It is not the first time I have killed, but you know this.
Perhaps I will make it a habit after all.
" And then I beamed at Nizanin, putting on my brightest dancer smile – radiant like the sun, as if murdering some people was just a pleasant diversion in the course of my day.
It probably made me look like an absolute psychopath, but I could see the words land.
Nizanin blinked rapidly, crest puffing out a little behind them, and I felt a burst of pleasure that I'd finally rattled them. "How – unusual," they said, staring up at me. "You are as Indiva to Sadri. You are blessed, Araxis of Creche Thiel."
"Yes," said Araxis, jaw tense. "I have always said as much."
Nizanin trailed down to the cargo hold, a few of their guards coming upstairs and hauling off the bodies while I sat on the stairs to the top level, watching, and Araxis positioned himself at a display in the lab in order to send a flurry of messages to Sozamia Station.
Once the bodies were gone, I rifled around in one of the storage closets for cleaning supplies and then set to work cleaning up the mess I'd made of the shiny new hallway.
Araxis went down to the hold to speak with Nizanin as the designated container was sealed, having been loaded while we drank tea, which left me to scrub gore from metal grating while my thoughts circled like sharks that had scented blood.
Someone really did want Araxis dead. More than someone.
Several creches. It was one thing to talk about that in a meeting room in our secure suite on Sozamia Station; it was another to be attacked, to see Araxis injured and bleeding.
To find myself in the line of fire as well.
Nizanin had said it must have shocked me, to see such violence at Araxis's side.
And while there was a part of me that had maybe believed that, once we escaped the arena, the hard part would be over, had I really thought we'd – what – attend some meetings, do boring political shit, and never face real danger ever again?
Abaya carried swords. Had I somehow subconsciously convinced myself they were decorative?
Xitera demands awful things from us all, and always exacts its price, Elethenn had said, and apparently that price included the risk of government-sanctioned assassination attempts and uneasy alliances with someone who'd murdered one friend and threatened to kill another. It was... awful.
But hadn't I wanted to make myself strong, capable, deadly?
Was there some part of me that had known that this was coming, even as I hadn't allowed myself to consider it?
I'd walked away from the violence on those sands, loathing it, and had immediately starting preparing to walk into the bloodied halls of Xitera.
I sat back on my ankles, a wet cloth dripping with ketaari blood held between my clenched fingers, as I stared at the vanishing stain. This, I thought distantly, was why Valerie had promised me a ripcord. She'd grasped what I might be walking into in a way that I hadn't.
The question that kept surfacing, again and again, the one that I needed to answer definitively, the one I needed to answer now, was whether or not loving someone was enough to balance out the cost of that love.
What had I said I wanted? Power, status, freedom, and a life fully lived. If I had to be scared all the time, or worried all the time, was that actually freedom? Was that a life fully lived? And did any of the rest of it matter if I couldn't have Araxis as well?
Maybe it was better to burn hard and bright and gutter out to ash and nothingness. Maybe that was okay.
By the time Araxis returned, I'd folded away any flickering shadows of doubt and had set myself on course.
I knew what I wanted, and I knew what I was willing to pay.
There was peace to be found in that, even in the misery and muck.
Araxis saw me, still sitting on the floor in the middle of the hallway, a bucket of murky water by my side, and he sank down next to me.
He plucked the gory cloth from my hands, dropping it into the water, and slid his arms around my shoulders, pulling me hard against him, nestling our bodies together, there in the middle of the hall on our ship, there beneath the bright lights that lit up every imperfection and every reminder of the violence that had been done here. The violence I had done.