18. Tyrxie
Chapter 18
Tyrxie
Healing
I rush over to Xandor, my heart pounding with frantic concern, almost tripping over the shattered ruin that was once a beautiful stone floor. “Xandor!” The words sound muffled amidst the hazy confusion. Oh, no! His proud silhouette, perched atop the broken armored suit, tumbles off, filling me with dread. I fear he might have taken a blast after all.
If I reach him in time, maybe I can heal him.
“Xandor!” I repeat, my voice growing stronger as I crest the broken machine, averting my gaze from the grisly sight of the Prefect impaled by the huge laser sword. The brutal scene is a disturbing monument to hatred and revenge.
I warned him about his anger!
Upon the rubble, I find Xandor, desperate to heal his wounds before something tragic happens. His skin is a pale red, and his breathing sounds torturous, each gasp a wheezing hiss that twists my stomach with worry. I lay down on the debris, resting his handsome face on my lap, lamenting that once again Xandor’s life teeters on the edge.
I open myself to the surging torrent of emotions swirling inside me—my fear, my love... my anger. Their intensity threatens to pull more tears from my eyes. But as I swell with raw feelings standing at the precipice of whatever Xandor’s strange bond is, there is only a lacking, an absence. My heart blazes green in the void, but it’s only a fraction of a whole, missing his golden love.
“No, I can’t heal you!” I wail, the tears spilling now. He feels so cold, like my soul, without his light. Panic grips my heart, but I’m useless, only able to brush his striking green hair and whisper everything is going to be okay. My soothing words are as much for my sake as for my love’s.
I scan the ruined room, desperate for help, feeling Xandor slipping away with each sickening constricted breath. The Nebians, with their strange clothes and expensive jewelry, emerge from behind damaged towering crystal pillars, others from behind the immense throne. Some of the Nebians have fallen, and small groups rush to help, while others stand wide-eyed in stunned shock.
“Quick, lass, order your soldiers to stand down so we can get help in here!” A thick hand rests on my shoulder. In a flash, I have my hand on my knife, ready to defend my love with my life. As I whirl like a deadly shadow, I halt in shock, seeing the ancient, concerned face of the Imperator, his eyes now shining bright, almost glowing orange like his immense Elerium throne. “Speak into this,” he urges, holding his activated wrist console.
Everything seems hazy, my mind muddled by all the chaos, but I find my words. “What about the alliance?” I whisper, glancing at my fallen Xandor, recalling why he fought with such determination—like a hero from a story, the hero I know he is.
“I can’t commit to anything without seeing the terms. But I promise you, no harm will come to you or your people,” the Imperator says in a strong, hurried voice. He seems like a different person compared to the strange oddity that greeted us initially. “Come on, lass, let us help these people,” he pleads, gesturing to huddled groups of scared faces.
I nod in agreement, more motivated to get aid for Xandor, praying it’s not late. “Um, hello can anyone hear me?” I ask, leaning towards the Imperator’s wrist console. My voice is a faint whisper, feeling surreal, like I’m witnessing the automatic actions of another.
“It’s Tiny... Hello Tiny!” Quad booms, although his voice sounds distant, as if echoing from across a large room. “We bash many tinies. Then they stop!” he adds, sounding disappointed.
If I wasn’t so exhausted and muddled, I’d wince at his words, knowing the Imperator stands beside me, frowning. “Stand down Quad... All of you stand down. The mission’s over.” The words hang in the air, not knowing what fate awaits us, not completely trusting the words of the desperate Nebian leader.
“Ah... fine!” Quad echoes in dissatisfaction.
The Imperator pulls back his arm, giving a warm smile that’s almost obscured by his white beard and drooping eyebrows. “You’ve done the right thing.”
Have I? Then why is my Xandor dying?
The Imperator kneels to inspect Xandor as I watch him with a critical eye, my hand hovering close to my knife. “In all my long years, I’ve never seen anything like it.” He shakes his head before touching the ruined stump of Xandor’s left shoulder.
“Don’t touch him!” I snap like a ferocious animal, my teeth bared.
“Peace, lass!” The Imperator raises pleading hands. “I only mean to check his wounds.”
“His wounds?” I scoff, my heart filled with boiling venom. “You mean the mutation and torture you bastards inflicted on him? He only came to ask for peace, and your people did this to him!” I add, my bitter hatred oozing from every pore. “You killed our ship, you killed my captain, you tore my Xandor to pieces, and now he dies, having fought to save you and his peace.”
My acrid words hang heavy in the air, amidst the wailing of Nebians and the sound of shifting broken stones. “I had no idea,” the Imperator finally says, his words meaningless and useless to the abyss hollowing out my soul. “I was trapped, bearing witness to myself transforming into a half-mad fool.” His gaze shifts to me, his eyes glowing faintly in the dusty haze. “But you somehow lifted the fog? And he moves like the light.” His expression takes on a look of wonder. “Who are you people?”
“I’m just an Earth girl. Xandor is the hero,” I reply, absently still stroking Xandor’s green hair.
“No, you cured me.” The Imperator raises his voice, taking on a sterner tone. “For too long I’ve languished in madness, but no longer! I’ll get to the bottom of this, I swear to you.”
The sound of gasps and voices lifts my gaze as I see new Nebians streaming into the ruined audience chamber. They stand momentarily stunned, taking in the wreckage, before rushing over to inspect the fallen and injured. “Over here!” The Imperator calls out, beckoning with a hand.
Two Nebians wearing segmented armor with white vertical stripes between the purple rush over. “A Klendathian!” One exclaims, recoiling in shock.
“Heal him, by any means necessary!” The Imperator instructs, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Come now, lass, let the medici do their jobs.” He urges me back, but I resist, shaking my head, grasping for Xandor, never wanting to let go. “Easy now,” he insists, and I relent, knowing it’s for the best, the only option left.
“Scanning and stabilizing,” one of the healers says, kneeling beside Xandor, his labored hissing breaths growing dangerously weaker, twisting my stomach with panic. Small orb-like drones emit from their backpacks, bathing Xandor in green light. The other healer extends a flat device, which hovers like a surface upon the ground.
“Severe barotrauma and extreme fatigue,” the healer announces after the orbs stop scanning.
I cast frantic glances between the three, not knowing how serious Xandor’s injuries are. “What’s barotrauma? Is he going to live?”
“Administering oxygen,” the other healer states, placing a device over Xandor’s mouth. My heart bursts with concern. “Let’s take him back for surgery.”
Surgery?
I feel lost and helpless, watching them, unable to comprehend as everything happens so fast. The two healers grunt with effort, trying to place Xandor onto the hovering surface. “Twin suns! He’s even heavier than he looks!” The Imperator’s face turns a deeper shade of blue as he strains, attempting to lift Xandor’s leg.
Sniffing back useless sobs, I stand eager to help. “No, lass. Let us look after him now. It’s the least we can do.” The Imperator stops me with a hand. “Oi! You lollygaggers!” he shouts with such force it stiffens my spine as he gestures to a group of idle Nebians. “Help us lift the Klendathian ambassador.”
Klendathian ambassador... such impersonal, small words for my Xandor.
Many finely dressed Nebians rush over to obey the Imperators’ stern command. I’m stunned with amazement as they line up alongside Xandor, each one grabbing hold of him, straining with effort. They heave and puff until, finally; they lift him from the ground, placing him onto the healer’s hovering surface. “Ambassador, ready for extraction,” a healer says.
“His name is Xandor,” I whisper. “He’s my golden hero.”
A day has passed since the healers took Xandor to their medical lab, located in the palace. Despite the Imperators’ suggestion to leave his care to their specialist, I went with them. I wouldn’t take no for an answer. The thought of leaving my love in the hands of the people who tortured him so brutally twisted my mouth with anger.
Their robots performed the operation, and I winced with each ominous, wicked-looking instrument approaching him. Yet I remained strong, not averting my gaze, growing to trust the healers and their earnest, efficient efforts. Their labors and my trust paid off when the operation was declared a success, filling me with blissful relief.
I glance over to my right to see Xandor laying unconscious but stable. His breathing, while still raspy, lacks the gut-wrenching hiss from before. The sight of his massive limbs sticking out of the too-small hovering platform makes me smile. He’s going to have some issues navigating this apartment. The place makes me feel like a giantess.
He’s like a double giant here!
My gaze shifts back to the glowing blue holographic terminal, bathing the pristine peaceful room in a faint blue light. I rub my tired eyes, sore from overuse, as I’ve been greedily consuming as much knowledge about Earth as I can. Each new discovery links to another and another, creating a never-ending cascade of curiosity that I struggle to fill.
Every time I read about a different country; I order the apartment’s drone to bring me a sampling of their delicious food. My stomach bubbles with protest, stuffed to the brim, but I can’t stop eating these delicious foods, as if every bite brings me a step closer to standing in the busy streets of Earth, watching their strange noisy vehicles drive by.
Would Xandor like these fries? I can’t wait until he wakes up!
“Fries,” I mutter the strange word, which seems too short for such tastiness. I grab another handful of the savory, salty goodness and devour them as quickly as Xandor moves in battle. Pivoting on the low, form-fitting cushion seat, I peer out the window, seeing the numerous orbed vehicles zoom past, reflecting the blue-orange light of the twin suns. It’s so quiet here... well, apart from the occasional siren and thudding laser cannons—that I could do without.
However, I still find this level of comfort very relaxing. The thought that at any moment I can have a water shower and not worry about crew members barging in is a luxury I’d never dared hope for. Not to mention the delicious foods, the lack of back-breaking repair work in the cramped guts of the Mutalisk’s Hammer, or the tormenting attention from a jealous Hyanxa or Kaanus...
It’ll be tough to leave this behind.
But I can’t see Xandor wanting to stay here, not after everything that happened—too many bad memories. It makes sense, and I wouldn’t blame him. Looking around at the low ceilings and doors, it’s at complete odds with the Klendathians. The opposite of everything they are—big, hard and rough.
I inhale, enjoying the clean air, taking another handful of the fries to devour. Until I almost spit them out in shock, seeing the gleaming golden eye of Xandor staring at me with a smile. “You’re awake!” I splutter out in shocked elation. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Xandor laughs until it morphs into a wincing cough. “I was just admiring the beautiful sights,” he retorts, his voice a catching rasp. His gaze shifts to scan the room, and his body seems to relax, taking in the environment. “We really need to stop meeting like this,” he adds before sitting up, frowning at the healing device attached to his chest. “At least there isn’t pieces of me lying around this time.”
I rush over to stand before him, looking into his handsome smiling face, my heart swelling to bursting having him back safe and awake. Despite the impenetrable fortress, despite the Nebian army, despite everything, we pulled off the impossible. If not for him cupping my face in his massive gentle hand, I’d not believe it.
“You’re a goddess who keeps pulling me back from the brink,” he mutters, brushing my nose with his, before kissing me gently on the lips.
Gasping at his bold words, I feel his gentle caress simmering with brutal strength. “I missed you so much!” I exclaim, wrapping my arms around his immense shoulders, squeezing him tightly, never wanting to let go. My heart swells with love, feeling him in my arms, his breath grazing my neck and the pleasant heat of his body.
Our bond bridges, the feeling familiar now, filling me with warmth as the universe snaps to focus, every sensation sharpening, making a mockery of life without him. I can sense his golden love connecting the gaps roaring pure and fierce, a reflection of my own.
Xandor gasps, throwing his head back as his eye glows with a mixture of gold and green. It’s then I can sense the wound within him, his bruised ribs, and damaged lungs. A part of me seeps into him, filling his injured flesh. I don’t know what it is I’m doing, compelled by an instinct like an itch being scratched.
He inhales a deep lungful of air, absent of coughing or rasping. “Oh, yes!” Xandor exclaims with a short laugh. “Even sweeter than the healing pods.” His voice is now strong and clear as he breaks our embrace to stare at me, his eye blazing. “I’m sorry Tyrxie.”
His words surprise me, prompting me to ask as I search his face. “For what?”
Xandor looks away. The simple action gives me a tinge of sadness, like a beautiful nebula passing from view. “For letting my weakness put you in danger. I should be protecting you, but I shame myself, needing you to keep healing me,” he mutters as he tries to loosen the straps to the healing device attached to his chest, struggling with his one hand. “Voiding thing!” he exclaims, extending his claws.
“Let me,” I interrupt with a stern voice, placing a reassuring hand on his wrist, worried by his anger and baffled by his words. “Xandor I’d heal you every day. Every second of every day, if I could. I only wish these strange powers could replace what those bastards took from you.” My deft hands brush over his hard chest as I reach to unclasp the straps. “You taught me about your war brothers, how you support each other like a big family.” I glance up with a smile, feeling grateful for all Xandor has done for me. “Well, you’re my family.”
Xandor expression shifts to a smile. “In every path you always say the right thing,” he says, his gaze meeting mine again, his face carrying sadness. “But your beautiful soul is too pure for a cripple who can’t even dress himself.”
He wants to leave me!
His words hit like a brutal gut punch, threatening to shatter my soul. Until I investigate his face, seeing the hurt and fear within, knowing he speaks out of undeserved shame. “Xandor, they took so much from you, but you’ve also gained so much. We both have. Who else but you could have done those crazy things?” I ask, recalling the unbelievable speed and precision Xandor moved with.
Xandor suddenly shakes with laughter, easing my tension. “Oh, you saw, did you? I was afraid you’d missed it,” he asks.
I giggle with happiness, seeing Xandor shifting back to his usual easy confidence. “Of course I did, but I had to voiding hide behind that giant Elerium throne to not get blasted.”
“Hiding in style, I like it,” he jests, before his expression takes on a pleasing, predatory look. “Tell me more about what you saw,” he purrs, leaning in closer, filling up my space.
“Well, I saw my big, powerful hero moving at hyperspeed,” I gasp as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer and nuzzling my neck with delightful kisses. “It was a bit disappointing, honestly. You moved so fast I couldn’t see your big muscles,” I mock.
“Is that so?” Xandor mutters, as I regret my hasty words when he stops his lovely attentions to reply. “I’ll have to remedy that immediately.” He leans back and, in a flourish, extends his claws, lacerating his massive coat, before tearing off the ribbons. “Better?”
“Um.” My pulse races and my throat feels dry as my eyes travel down the glistening musculature that has me speechless. Xandor’s body is like a work of art, only mired by the tortures he’s endured, somehow making the crime seem worse. Hard deep lines highlight slabs of rippling red muscles. His waist, in particular, causes a warmth to pool within me, seeing the contours of his chiseled abdominals suggestively leading downward.
And downward my eyes go, unable and unwilling to stop myself. Xandor’s throbbing, pulsing cock juts out boldly, already fully engorged. Every time I see it, I swear it’s grown bigger. The sight of it hitches my breath, knowing what it does, pulling all sorts of pleasures and guttural noises from me—and I can’t wait to do it again.
A longing ignites within, blazing with wanton lust. I stroke the end of his enormous members, its pebbled head. He groans in pleasure and I smirk, growing bolder with each passing, heady heartbeat. “I think this sword might be bigger, though.”
Xandor laughs, a deep, rich sound full of desire reflecting my own. I continue to stroke up and down his majestic cock, unable to wrap my hand around the thick girth, which makes my wrist look small in comparison.
I gasp as Xandor continues his own beautiful assault, kissing and nibbling along my neck, eliciting a mixture of pleasure and feverish need, which pools more and more at my core. His claws cut through my clothes effortlessly, the tips of them just brushing my skin along my back in a delightful, dangerous way that causes me to shudder and groan, arching my back.
My noises only drive him onward as he snarls, lashing my chest and breasts with his hot tongue. I throw my head back as my sensitive flesh sends ripples of pleasure within me, their pebbling another betrayal of the moistness building below, awaiting my male.
I moan in delight as Xandor lowers his head further, longing for him to continue. He leaves a blazing trail of his attentions upon my flesh, leading to what he desires, what he deserves because he belongs to me and I to him. I open my legs for him, the only male who’ll ever have me—the only one I’ve ever wanted.
“I missed this,” he purrs, peering up at me, his eye swirling with a heady mix of his gold and my green, our bond lighting up our senses to new heights of joy. His tongue flicks over my wet folds, causing me to shudder.
I missed this too!
My hips buck into him, desperate for more. Xandor doesn’t disappoint. He seems to know what I want before I do, each stroke, each caress assaulting my quivering senses with more ecstasy. His tongue flicks in and out, lapping up my feminine juices like a thirsty beast. His clawed hand brushes along my spine, arching my back, forcing me further into his eager, wicked mouth of delights.
It’s as if no matter which way I squirm or shift, he knows the precise action to drive me to the edge like a merciless taskmaster of pleasure. My body tenses and tenses, gripping Xandor’s hair in a fearsome grip. I come undone, his tongue lashing through me, exploding my universe, in shuddering squeals of pulsing, throbbing waves.
Bliss washes over me, still feeling the aftershocks of my intense orgasm fluttering through my trembling body. “Thank the Gods I endured my suffering, to taste you again.” Xandor smirks before standing up.
A loud bang echoes out, prompting me to rise on elbows in concern.
What was that noise?