Book 1 — Chapter 29

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Day: Hyningo

Date: 21

Month: Nokaokarium 

Quarturn: 1618

Location: The city of Hylaton

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Tane felt the mild surprise come over him; while it was common to see Jacinth on the daily, it was uncommon for him to be waiting for him at his office door so early. Not that his presence was a negative; he always enjoyed engaging with Jacinth. However, he was versed enough to know his presence so early could only mean something unfortunate. Further, as he grew closer to him, he studied his visage, and noted Jacinth looked particularly drawn. 

 

As Jacinth rose from a seat in the waiting area and hurried toward him, Tane let out a breath of vocal resignation and asked Jacinth. 

 

“And what heartburn-inducing news do you have for me this fine morning?” 

 

“Thankfully, my contribution to your discomfort will be minimal,” Jacinth responded with a chuckle and a shake of his head. “I am only here to escort you to the boardroom.” 

 

“Is there a problem?” he asked, as his stomach turned with concern. 

 

“Not that I am aware of,” Jacinth answered with a smile, as if he were trying to ease the obvious concerns. “Mother messaged me on my way in today. Said she wanted to see us both promptly, without fail. From what I could gather from the subtext, there didn’t seem to be a problem, but whatever it is, she ascribed an urgency.” 

 

He glanced at his office door as he wondered if he should drop off his case and jacket. But his brief considerations were deterred, as Jacinth seemed to notice his glance and advised. 

 

“You could leave your items in the office, but such details will not go unnoticed. She will see you did not come straight away as instructed, and she will have words about such. I am not saying this as an endorsement of her absurd rigid conditioning. I only want to save you from some grief.” 

 

He released a grateful smile and turned to return down the hall as Jacinth fell in next to him. 

 

“And I appreciate your attention to those details,” he commented to Jacinth. “You’re perfectly right; she would notice and it would lead to grief. Thank you for being … simply put, hyperaware.” 

 

“Yes. Hyperaware …” Jacinth spoke with sadness in his voice. “To navigate her fastidiousness, one has to train themselves to be meticulous and vaticinate her conscientiousness if one wants to avoid her ire.” 

 

He felt his own sadness strike him as they reached the elevator, and he took a moment to study Jacinth’s expression. It was one that spoke of dispirit and exhaustion. 

 

“You’re looking weary today. You okay?” he asked. 

 

Jacinth shrugged as they entered the elevator and spoke around a tired breath. 

 

“Did not have a productive weekend in the restorative department. My mind was engaged and … I’m asking Deo to please direct me toward a peaceful week.” 

 

It was a prayer he could relate to, and always hoped for himself. But the summoning by Cartmel wasn’t a promising indication that such prayers would go answered.

 

• • •

 

Tane felt another breath of vexation come to him as he looked at his messages, trying to manage his team and assistant remotely with little of what he needed to do so effectively in front of him. It had been nearly an hour since they had entered the boardroom, per Cartmel’s request. A request that she implied was one of urgency, so much so that he forwent gathering anything that could have let him work while he waited.

 

But as he glanced at his jacket and bag — items he set on the table in order to be highly visible to Cartmel — he still agreed with Jacinth’s opinion that stopping by his office would have certainly raised Cartmel’s temper, and he truly didn’t want to feel the brunt of such. Yet, he was now questioning whether there was urgency or if she was just exercising her power. Commanding actions, only to see them completed for no other reason than to sate her own ego. It wouldn’t have been the first time she used such methods to remind people of their place in the order. But after the past Hynyengo, he figured she would have still been in Cartmel’s version of a “good mood,” and would find little need to stroke her identity. 

 

Further, it was always a strange matter to him that she held all the meetings in the boardroom, never in her office. So much so, he had never actually seen Cartmel’s office. From what he could gather, the only people that had been in the office were Cartmel, Jacinth, Brisocas, and Cartmel’s assistant. He supposed there was a reason; but at the moment, said reason was beyond his grasp.

 

As he looked around, he supposed part of that reason was it was one of the few places in the building that had nothing in the way of security equipment. From cameras to listening devices, the room was devoid of all manners of monitoring. The only one he was aware of was a strategically placed camera that was in the hall leading to the room. An image-only device that would show who was coming and going, but wouldn’t reveal even a pixel of the interior of the boardroom. Too, the camera in the hall wasn’t the typical facial recognition and data-collecting versions found in most of the company, but an older video version. It was something he observed was done — perhaps by design — in some of the more sensitive areas of the company. As if part of the deterrent was to imply that there was nothing of import in said areas, as the lack of high-tech security was an active camouflage.

 

Granted, he knew it wasn’t always the case; some parts of the company were locked down so tight, they had invented proprietary methods to keep company secrets, a secret. But it was the lack that always sincerely concerned him. As if perhaps behind those doors lay the worst of Hylatee’s deeds. 

 

He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he glanced over to Jacinth, who had settled into his seat as soon as he entered the boardroom and had fallen asleep. It was a fitful sleep; Jacinth bounced regularly from hypnic jerks and what he could only assume were nightmares. But given how Jacinth looked that morning, he was happy to see him getting any rest while possible.

 

But just as the thought of something good coming of the wait crossed his mind, his attention was taken; the door from Cartmel’s office opened and ended the available resting period for Jacinth. 

 

He coughed into the crook of his elbow with feigned emphasis to alarm Jacinth, who woke instantly and returned to his waiting position. It was an action that caused both Jacinth and himself to grin, as Cartmel entered with haste and didn’t seem to notice Jacinth’s slumber. 

 

However, their grins did not go unnoticed; as soon as Cartmel reached her chair, she looked at them and her eyes narrowed slightly as she spoke. 

 

“Why the grins? Given I’ve been held up, making your wait so long, I expected other expressions.” 

 

“No, indeed,” Jacinth spoke in a tone of sarcasm. “We were using the time to make jokes at your expense.” 

 

“Okay, smartass,” Cartmel responded in a slightly unaffected tone. “I know you try your best to wound me with your words, but you’ll have to try much harder than that.” 

 

“Noted,” Jacinth replied with a chuckle. 

 

He felt his breath release as his concerns about what the meeting would constitute began to fade; Cartmel didn’t seem to be in a particularly sour mood — only a little frazzled and rushed, as she sat at the table and pulled a couple papers from her case. 

 

As she read over the papers, she spoke in a surprisingly contritionary tone. 

 

“I see you came right away, Tane. Appreciate your diligence. I had every intention of being here straight away myself, but I wanted a bit more information, and retrieving that took longer than it should. Nevertheless, I have the information now, and am ready to speak with you concerning the island of Diboli.” 

 

He felt his brow immediately furrow in question as his head turned, and he asked. 

 

“I’m sorry. The island of Diboli? I’m not recalling this …” 

 

As his voice faded off, he watched as Cartmel blinked several times with her own confusion; her expression began to move to irritation. But as she seemed to have a moment of clarity, her facial expression instantly changed as she responded. 

 

“Yes. Yes. I was about to become livid. But yes … when I spoke with you last about it, I wasn’t provided with the name of the island, given it’s technically in the Shattered Continent’s borders. However, now that I have been given more information, I understand the Adenan Okens have been referencing it as Diboli.” 

 

As soon as he heard the mention of the Adenan Okens, his memory served him, and he recalled the request to retrieve an artifact from the island. His mouth opened as he drew in an air of understanding and nodded. It was a non-verbal response that Cartmel clearly understood as she continued. 

 

“Yes. I know I inferred that it wasn’t a matter of importance, as we are still waiting for the heavy machinery to arrive, but something has changed.” 

 

“What would that something be?” Jacinth asked carefully. 

 

He watched as Cartmel returned the papers in hand to the table and sat back in her seat as she explained. 

 

“I got word late yesterday that apparently there was an incident on the island this past week. As I mentioned in the last board meeting, the Adenan Okens had been decidedly irritating by imposing some superstitious nonsense on its significance. Claiming they would not let just anyone take it. Though, they didn’t seem to have much information to share on what it was.” 

 

“I recall this, yes,” he offered to show he was recalling and following.

 

“It appears whatever it is might be significant after all. A couple Watzeen tried to acquire it themselves, which caused a significant enough incident … as in, a physical fight … that it prompted the director of the project to request HEAGEN security forces to assist as a measure of good faith toward the Adenan Okens. Saying in her report that, and I’m paraphrasing here, she cannot afford to lose the Adenan Okens’ support or their labor, as they are vital to the success of the mineral retrieval. It was only brought to my attention yesterday, as I was informed that a small unit of HEAGENs had already been reassigned there to protect the artifact and the Adenan Okens.” 

 

“Watzeen?” Jacinth asked with piqued curiosity. “That’s unheard of … that level of aggression by the Watzeens. I, of course, know we have had words with them in the past concerning artifacts we have found. Both in written and verbal form by some of their most elite residents. But nothing in the way of physical violence. Are we certain those reports are accurate?”

 

“Not only are they accurate,” Cartmel assured as she continued. “I received reports last night that a handful of Watzeen have been seen in the area by the HEAGENs … observing.” 

 

He felt his face fall to even deep confusion, as Jacinth was perfectly right. The Watzeen had naturally expressed dismay at past artifact retrievals; saying Hylatee’s intentions were ones that could not only damage the artifact beyond understanding, but could be used unwisely without context and appreciation. Positions he had often agreed with. But never had he heard of physical altercations to prevent anyone else from obtaining an artifact. Further, he was dumbfounded, as he was under the impression the Okens and Watzeens were favorable towards one another. It was a question that was perplexing him as he asked. 

 

“You might not have information on this, but was there any reason given why the Adenan Okens didn’t let the Watzeens have it? I mean, they are usually very well-aligned … even if the Adenan Okens are a bit separate from the general Oken population.”

 

He watched as Cartmel looked toward the ceiling in thought, as she seemed she did have some information, but was trying to decide how to explain it. 

 

“I know you will take this as an insult,” Cartmel jeered as she responded. “But you and I were of the same mind on that question. I asked the director if she was aware of any bad blood between them. She said that while the group is, by far, the most eccentric and doctrinal of any of the Adenan Okens she has encountered, she hadn’t noticed any peculiar animosity towards them. Only that they were interested in building a solid community to practice their brand of devotion.” 

 

“Did she mention what this brand of devotion was?” Jacinth asked. 

 

“She did not,” Cartmel answered. “But she said that they were even more set on the ground being … consecrated after the artifact removal. That is why I called you here. I want your schedules to be adjusted so as to make the trip to Diboli straight away and secure the artifact. If it is of that deep of an interest to the Watzeens that they would be so bold, then it must be something of great importance … and I want it.” 

 

He glanced at Jacinth, who verbally released a breath and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. 

 

“I know you were determined to have me accompany Tane on this …” 

 

“Oh! And I still am,” Cartmel interrupted. “I believe you are in desperate need to be educated in some of that empathy you hold so dear, and direct it towards me. And by going out and dealing with people, you will understand some of my positions.” 

 

He felt his eyes move to the table, as he knew the words were ones that could incite a disagreement between them. One that would bring up similar discussions from the last board meeting. Granted, arguments that were perfectly valid on Jacinth’s part. But arguments that would hold no sway with Cartmel. It seemed to be a notion shared by Jacinth, who took a deep breath and continued. 

 

“I’m not going to engage in this with you, Mother. However, I will point out that I have a very important conference in Michi on …” 

 

“I am well aware of your plans, Jacinth,” Cartmel again interrupted. “And given who you will be seeing, I’m sure wild animals couldn’t tear you away from this event. But counting today, that gives you four days to figure out your plans, get there, and make it to your precious conference.” 

 

He looked at Jacinth, whose eyes were scanning the table, as if he were trying to figure out the logistics of what Cartmel had asked of him. Though as a corner of his mouth turned up with a consideration, Jacinth nodded to his own thoughts and spoke aloud. 

 

“You are correct. There is plenty of time to get this done. I do, however, have one question. Tane … this aspect of consecration seems to be a sticking point. Do you know of the cultural significance? Or will you need to bring in a Consign to advise?” 

 

His brow raised in question as he looked into Jacinth’s eyes. He felt, as he examined Jacinth’s expression, that the question was formulated carefully. Not asking for the sake of information, but to connote the latter part of his words. To bring in a Consign.

 

He offered a gesture of uncertainty, trying his best to play his unknown role, as he spoke. 

 

“To be honest, given how many traditional and emerging sects there are out there, I doubt my cultural education has even scratched the surface of belief systems. I would say that contacting the Consign office and seeing if they can provide any information would be extremely helpful.” 

 

“If you do not mind, Tane,” Jacinth offered. “I would be more than happy to contact the Sanctuary Outreach office on your behalf. I have an open schedule this week to accommodate my travel plans, and I would like to provide any assistance to you in this endeavor. Further, I’m hoping to see if a couple specific Consigns are available to meet with us.” 

 

“I would be most appreciative,” he responded honestly as he returned his attention to Cartmel. “If that is an agreeable plan?”

 

He looked at Cartmel, who had a writing instrument held to the corner of her mouth; her eyes were unmoveable from Jacinth. She rocked slightly in her chair and stared, as if she were trying to read Jacinth with the little graces she had been afforded. But if she were to glean anything, she didn’t reveal such, as after a moment, she nodded and spoke in a chary tone. 

 

“I believe the current plans are acceptable. I would like updates with all adjustments or decisions. Further, when these Consigns come in, I want to be informed, as I would like to sit in on the advisement. I’m curious what they’ll have to say.” 

 

He glanced at Jacinth, who rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. It was another non-verbal cue that seemed to be out of place for him. As if he was acting the part of “Jacinth,” in order to conceal what his sincere hopes and intentions were. 

 

It was one that seemed to work, as Cartmel let out a frustrated breath and spoke to his physical response. 

 

“Oh please, Jacinth. I will not sully your pristine reputation with your beloved Sanctuary and Consigns with my presence. I’m well aware of your adoration towards Sanctuary’s tripe … and your closeness with several of those Consigns.” 

 

But before any further words could be shared, the boardroom door opened, garnering all their attention as Ugwyd and Ennam entered. 

 

“I understand you wanted to meet with us, Cartmel,” Ugwyd spoke in a bothered tone. 

 

“And I have come to understand you were raised with no home training,” Cartmel responded with anger. “Who told you it was acceptable to enter a room, with a closed door, before knocking? Much less gave you permission to enter?” 

 

He pushed his chair back, as Cartmel — who was now wholly irritated — turned to them and spoke in a firm voice. 

 

“We are done here. I expect to hear from each of you often today. Go.” 

 

As he and Jacinth rose from their seats simultaneously, they both knew it was best not to say anything at this point; only to nod in acknowledgement and hurry themselves out of the boardroom. For any semblance of Cartmel’s mild mood had been broken by Ugwyd’s faux pas, as the last words he heard as he exited, closing the door behind him, were from Cartmel, who was fussing. 

 

“I would expect a child to be so careless … but then again, I’m surrounded by adult-children who incumber me with their incompetence. Sit down, now!”​

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• • •

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Tane leaned back in his office chair as he felt the grin pull at the corner of his mouth to Amala’s tease. It was a moment he was glad he was on the roamphone, for he knew if Amala had seen his expression, she would have claimed victory toward her words. 

 

But as he breathed out, it seemed even his breath was giving him away, as her voice came forward in a triumphant pitch. 

 

“Yeah … you know I’m right. That’s why you’re sitting there with that grin. I can hear you breathing around it.” 

 

“Am I really that decodable?” he asked with a chuckle. 

 

“You’re a tad predictable,” she replied with her own giggle. “Though to be fair, quarturns of careful study have allowed me these insights. But I’m certain you still have some surprises in you.” 

 

As he leaned forward to his desk, he picked up a writing utensil and fidgeted with it as he sighed and resigned himself to Amala’s attestation. But his sigh also went noticed, as she pronounced in a comforting tone. 

 

“Now predictable isn’t synonymous with overtly pedestrian. In my mind, it’s more aligned with reliability … being of character … solid even. And Deo knows the world needs less vacillating.” 

 

“Less vacillating, you say,” he remarked with a jest in his pitch. “I thought you were a centrist?” 

 

“Oh, HA-HA! Ass!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “Just for that, you can find someone else to answer your inane questions.”

 

The laugh that came forward was one so strong, it pulled his head back and caused his diaphragm to extend beyond normal. It was a welcome moment that made him grateful that Amala was such a permissive spirit who allowed them to poke fun at one another and enjoy each other’s banter.

 

As both their laughs subsided, Amala sighed happily as she confessed. 

 

“I had to run to the wet-room in my office so people wouldn’t hear me laugh so hard. Oh … that was fun. But I do have to get to the floor soon, so no more digressions. What were we talking about?”

 

“My telling you about that Shattered Continent island. The Watzeens’ fighting to get their hands on an artifact,” he reminded Amala. 

 

“Right, right,” she responded. “And you have no further information other than what you told me?” 

 

“Not at this time,” he responded as he leaned forward and checked his computer to see if any new messages had arrived. “I asked for full disclosure with images from the project manager, but haven’t heard back from her yet. Jacinth was requesting some Consigns to come in since they are one of the few permitted to do outreach in the Shattered Continent, and therefore should have more insights. But I thought, given the where and who, you might have caught wind of it.” 

 

“You’re perfectly right,” she affirmed. “The Watzeens love to tell on Hylatee as often as possible. They enjoy watching the ensuing chaos.” 

 

“And who doesn’t?” he joked with a chuckle. 

 

“Indeed!” she responded. “But all mirth aside, if these Watzeens are from Moree, which I’m going to presume they are, they have in the past been very keen on providing a heads up to the World Council and the Minu government when international law has been broken. Further, while I jest about the Watzeens enjoying the chaos, I know there is a more practical aspect to their reporting. These artifacts are not just important points to fill in the lost histories, but what irritates the Watzeens — and by extension, us — is Hylatee’s insistence on dismantling finds in an attempt to reverse engineer them. This piques my interest concerning the exception to the norm. While I’m sorry to say I can’t help you, I would like you to keep me in the loop if, and when, you find anything out.” 

 

He felt a genuine smile come to his face as his thoughts came forward. 

 

“Alas, while you couldn’t provide me with information … you always help me in more ways than you know.” 

 

“Oh!” she exclaimed with a gush. “That was a very kind sentiment to share.” 

 

“Penitence for the earlier barb,” he offered with another chuckle. “But sincere. Further, I will keep you informed of any information or events the best I can. On my word.” 

 

• • •

 

Tane nodded and offered a mouthed, “Thank you,” of appreciation toward his assistant, Denton, who had printed the newly acquired information from the site director at Diboli. As he watched Denton bow gently in acknowledgement and leave Jacinth’s office, he turned his attention to Raer. He leaned forward and nudged her with the papers, catching her attention. With another mouthing, he silently informed her, “Look this over.” Raer smiled and nodded enthusiastically as she took the papers and began to examine them. 

 

As he sat back in his seat, his eyes moved over to Jacinth, who was the reason for the needed mouthing and gestures to communicate, as he was engaged in a phone call. And so they all sat in silence. Himself, Raer, and Master Consign Linkraf. 

 

His attention moved to Linkraf; it was the first time he had met him formally. Not that he wasn’t aware of him. For while he wasn’t a follower of Sanctuary, some Consigns, especially the Master ones, transcended their positions and were known far outside their sphere. Master Consign Linkraf was perhaps the most famous, and most respected, of those. 

 

He took a moment to study Linkraf. He was a Corachal of age and prestige. His 190-centimeter-tall body was typical of a Corachal, resembling one of a trained athlete in its strength and girth. Something that despite the loose and layered Consign trappings, could be easily seen. Additionally, like all Corachals, his skin tone was a hue of grey — light, with undertones of blue that deepened and really showed through in the darkened patches around the eyes.  

 

It was always an interesting feature to him, the darkened grey to almost black that surrounded the Corachals’ eyes. From what he understood, their general pigment, along with the change around the eyes, was an evolutionary trait of their water-based heritage. Being that they originated from “Sister World” — a planet 9/10ths of whose surface was covered with water — they developed the pigments, especially around the eyes, to protect from the sun’s glare. It was, truthfully, a stunning feature that only added to Corachals’ generally regarded attractiveness; they were renowned for their appearance. And Linkraf was certainly an example of the attractiveness convention, even with his advanced age. 

 

Though Linkraf, who was edging toward his 400th quarturn, had more admirable features than just aesthetics — he was widely regarded as a well-known and well-respected man of academia. A brilliant mind who had used his lifetime to achieve Tier-1 degrees in easily a dozen-plus disciplines. From what he understood, it was his teaching and research in the sciences that led to him becoming a Consign many solar years ago. And with this Consign training, he had returned to his studies, collecting yet another Tier-1 degree in Historical Research. It was amazing to him how one could be so devoted to learning, teaching, and guiding. 

 

But it was a wonder that had little time to ruminate on as his attention was brought back to the moment as Jacinth spoke with an energetic “Goodbye,” and ended his call. 

 

“Forgive me for the interruption. The matter was time sensitive and needed addressing,” Jacinth explained, as he let out a sigh and continued. “Nevertheless, where were we?”

 

“No apologies needed. I understand your attention is required by many,” Linkraf assured Jacinth in his soft, but rich, baritone voice. “To your question, we were discussing my historical research. You were about to elaborate on my question to you concerning your descriptive of courage.” 

 

He felt a light grin come to him, as Jacinth smiled brightly and quickly shifted his head back and forth; he knew Jacinth was winding up for astute observation.  

 

“Yes, indeed. I stand by my statement. There is a bravery in your field. Let me explain why I postulate this. To study the history of this world is more often to study the worst of its kind. You spend many hours a day, entrenched in account after account of all manners of tragedy. Tragedy of thought. Tragedy of act. Tragedy of outcome that often has collateral damage and repercussions that stretch far and wide to the innocent and naive. You study and digest this, churning within you a reverberation of sorrow and anger, I am sure. And yet, you fend off being consumed by it. Fend off bitterness towards the world. Because your intent is from a place of sincere purity. I can think of few acts that are so brave and noble.”

 

The chuckle came to him, as Jacinth’s words had not disappointed. They had been deeply discerning and wonderfully elucidatory. Something that was also recognized by Linkraf, who breathed in vocally — in what seemed to be a gasp of astonishment — as he commented with a light chuckle. 

 

“I say … your assessment of my field is flatteringly poetic. I compliment myself, and perhaps you’re right. It can be difficult to engage daily with the horrors of this world’s past. But my intent is genuine. To educate people in order to give them the agency to resist and repel repeating cycles.” 

 

“May you succeed, and may history fail to repeat itself,” Jacinth offered in a soft, but sincere, tone. 

 

“May you as well,” Linkraf responded in a pitch that carried with it a well-inferred subtext. 

 

It was one that Jacinth understood; his eyebrows raised, and he nodded deeply in appreciation of the encouragement. 

 

But before the conversation could continue, all attention was turned as the door swung open wide, knocking into the wall; Ugwyd sauntered in, pushing the door closed with his foot behind him. His eyes rolled by reflex as he returned his attention back to Jacinth, who let out a vocal breath of irritation and spoke in a tone of sarcasm. 

 

“By all means, come in and make yourself welcome.” 

 

As Ugwyd smirked and moved about the office in an unconcerned manner, Jacinth took the opportunity to question Ugwyd as he asked. 

 

“Why do you insist on pressing Mother?” 

 

He turned his attention back to Ugwyd, who had moseyed over to the couch and sat to it with a vocal breath of release as he leaned back casually and asked. 

 

“Am I free to speak?” 

 

“It’s as free as it can be. I have the office, and general area, scoured daily for listening devices. She will not be privy to this conversation,” Jacinth replied. 

 

Ugwyd grinned again as he leaned to his side and pulled from his pocket a significant-sized holder for crystal chips. He began to fidget with it conspicuously, as if what he was holding was of significance and would irritate Jacinth. But if such was the case, it wouldn’t be known at the time, as Ugwyd responded to the question with a chuckle. 

 

“I suppose it’s the same reasons you do the things you do. From irritating her … to still referring to her as ‘Mother,’ given how much you despise her and stopped considering her as your mother a long time ago … it’s a game we all play, Jacinth. From weaponized incompetence to the subtle bigotry of low expectations … the dissimulation of your feelings, or in both our cases, subterfuge. The effort to mask and switch to reach our end goals.”

 

He turned his attention back to Jacinth, who appeared stoic considering the opinions Ugwyd shared. Though from his point of view, they weren’t entirely inaccurate — in far too many moments, artifice was presented in order to move forward — but given it was Ugwyd presenting such, it always made his stomach turn to agree with such an ass of a man. 

 

But before Jacinth, or anyone could respond, Ugwyd stopped his fidgeting and his grin increased as he mused upon his observation. 

 

“Someone’s hands are telling a very interesting tale.”

 

He turned his attention to Raer, who had not taken her eyes off the papers he had given her, though she was obviously aware of the conversation — understanding her tattooed hands were the basis of his observation — as she slightly turned in her seat, adjusting herself, away from Ugwyd. 

 

It was a movement that Jacinth noticed, as his expression and tone moved into one of irritation as he asked. 

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

“Raer, is it?” Ugwyd asked with an unsettling cadence. “Her kind would know about the Shattered Continent.” 

 

“I asked you a question,” Jacinth spoke in a voice that illustrated a rising anger. 

 

His own anger was rising; for while Raer remained unphased by any implications Ugwyd was making, the effort to stress Raer was inciting his temper. He felt his brow furrow as he looked at Ugwyd, who smiled with a tactless grin and spoke in a mocked assuredness. 

 

“There are no concerns to be had. I lost the funding for such research solar years ago.” 

 

“Get out!” Jacinth demanded with an emphatic voice. 

 

But the command was laughed away by Ugwyd, returned the crystal chip holder to his pocket and offered in a faux conciliatory tone. 

 

“Calm down. I will leave. But not before I see the now-Master Cosign Linkraf. You might not know this Jacinth, but he was one of my main lab mentors when I was pursuing my Tier-1 education. My curiosity got the best of me, as I had to know how a man once dedicated to science could fall so far as to venerate the supernatural nonsense spewed by Sanctuary.” 

 

He turned his attention to Linkraf, who sat with an unmoved expression towards Ugwyd’s words. Though his eyes studied for a moment before a light grin turned the corners of his mouth and he responded in an equable tone. 

 

“Let me begin by correcting you by saying there is no such thing as the supernatural. All things fall within the realm of nature and science. To ascribe something as supernatural, and therefore falsity, is to admit a fear of one’s limited abilities of observation and insufficient scope of knowledge. It’s a burden all scientific minds face: to come to terms with the constraints of their range. Though, apparently, some are more proficient with the task than others.”

 

He glanced at Jacinth, who looked to his desk and rubbed his lips together in an attempt to suppress the smile that was emerging on their faces to Linkraf’s refutation. But Linkraf didn’t give a moment for response as he immediately continued. 

 

“I, of course, do remember you, Ugwyd. But I would advise you not to flatter yourself on such remembrance. The reasons you were easy to recall was not for your excellence in the laboratory. Quite the opposite. I’m sincerely surprised you would take time out of your day to accost my academic evolution.” 

 

He looked at Ugwyd and felt a bit of satisfaction to see his expression was one of irritation to Linkraf’s words. But Ugwyd seemed to try to dismiss the moment, as he pushed forward a feigned laugh and responded. 

 

“Yes. Part of my visit was to confront and ridicule your regression. But moreso, to show you how I have thrived in spite of your unadaptable teachings. You ran that lab, determined to subdue discovery with your subjective ethics. It’s a shame so many scientists were stunted by your practices. I was fortunate to break away from such standards and am accomplishing scientific breakthroughs weekly. My brilliance is cemented.” 

 

His attention returned to Linkraf, as he smiled gently and offered. 

 

“Well, you have illustrated that something has been cemented; but it’s not a self-declared brilliance. What is clear, as it was then, was your inability to think beyond the empirical. The ethics of my laboratory that you deride were not a precursor to scientific study … they were the questions and boundaries that arose from scientific discovery. Reflection and application, I see, remains a deficiency for you.” 

 

“What are you doing here?” Cartmel asked in a raised voice. 

 

All attention turned to Cartmel, who had entered the office and already projected a mood of annoyance towards the circumstances. She released a vocal huff as she spoke. 

 

“I’m waiting, Ugwyd.” 

 

Ugwyd released his own breath, only of defeat; he appeared to be not only vexed by Linkraf’s cutting words, but frustrated that he would now not have the opportunity to refute them. He raised his hands in a gesture of indifference and replied. 

 

“I came to see Master Consign Linkraf. He was once an instructor of mine that I admired. But that is long past.” 

 

“Good for you,” Cartmel responded with an impassivity before her voice returned to its aggravated tone. “But you have higher priorities than a reunion. I will take note of this. Get back to work.” 

 

He watched as Ugwyd gestured compliance, but didn’t verbally respond. Only turning from Cartmel, nodding to everyone present, and rushing from the office with an expression of stone. 

 

As Ugwyd closed the door behind him, it initiated Cartmel to let her shoulders fall slightly as she again released another vocal breath: only this time one that spoke of trying to collect herself. It was this breath that prompted everyone to stand, per customary business norms. And with the standing, Jacinth took the initiative and spoke. 

 

“Thank you for joining us, Mother. Let me do the honor of introducing our guests. As you may recall from various functions, this is Master Consign Linkraf. I believe you have met previously.” 

 

“We have,” Cartmel responded with a difficult tone.

 

It was one that Jacinth recognized, as his own voice turned testy as he continued. 

 

“And this is Consign Raer Rashamaedae. She is one of the principal people I work with closely concerning the charities associated with Melchior. We see a great deal of each other.” 

 

“I’m well aware of that,” Cartmel responded coldly before she questioned. “If you’re associated with Melchior Sanctuary, why are you here?” 

 

He looked at Raer, who smiled politely. But before she could answer, Jacinth interrupted with an elevated voice. 

 

“Her expertise is extensive. Perhaps if you would like to take a seat and listen, she will educate you.” 

 

“I. Will. Stand,” Cartmel responded in her own lifted voice, adding to the already rising tensions. 

 

They were tensions that didn’t go unnoticed by Linkraf, who quickly injected himself into the exchange and spoke in a smooth and calming voice. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to see you well, Cartmel. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to address the information we can provide, personally.”

 

As Linkraf took to his seat, everyone followed as he continued. 

 

“I asked Raer to join us, as while you’re aware that Sanctuary has extensive outreach programs in the Shattered Continent, there are a handful of Consigns that I would consider authorities on the people who inhabit the area. Raer has spent countless hours in the Shattered Continent and can provide some of the most accurate insights.” 

 

“You told them the location of the project?” Cartmel questioned Jacinth with an angry expression. 

 

But before Jacinth could respond, Linkraf offered.

 

“Rest assured, our presence here is to assist with information. Not to ponder and comment on the fluid, and oftentimes arbitrary, legalities against your undertakings.”

 

He glanced at Jacinth, who seemed to share his thoughts as they both grinned. Linkraf was a master-class in phrasing, nuance, and conflict resolution, as he uttered the perfect words to assuage Cartmel’s anger.  

 

“As long as you understand anything you learn about the company’s practices are under strict confidentiality,” Cartmel added. 

 

“Naturally,” Linkraf assured. “Again, we are only here to provide the service of information.” 

 

“What information can you provide?” Cartmel asked in an even tone. 

 

He took the initiative and explained.

 

“I requested as much information as possible from the project manager at Diboli. She responded just recently and was able to forward me observation files; though unfortunately no images. I was able to present those to Raer just a few minutes before you arrived.” 

 

He turned his attention to Raer and asked, as she continued to flip through the pages. 

 

“Were you able to discern anything in this short time? I’m sorry to put you on the spot so quickly.” 

 

“No, indeed,” Raer shook her head with a light smile. “I actually was able to gather a great deal of information. If you don’t mind me dominating the narrative for a bit.” 

 

“Do us the honor,” Jacinth encouraged with a graceful hand gesture. 

 

Raer smiled and bit her lip in a brush of shyness as she expounded. 

 

“Let me provide a little backdrop to what I can say for certain. The Adenan Okens are an adjunct of the Oken peoples. They are one of the few groups that can trace their histories back well before the Bottleneck. Granted, like most, much information was lost, but what was kept is still important to their day-to-day lives. Their culture embraces a more elemental focus on the Universe.”

 

“Elemental?” Cartmel asked with a tone of suspicion. 

 

“Adenan Oken, in general, trace their histories to Mother World,” Linkraf explained, giving Raer a moment to gather her thoughts. “Like Attatas, Mother World descendents all practiced, and continue to practice, extensive belief and cultural systems that are based on natural world principles. These groups subscribe to the idea that all things are dependent on elementals. From the compass directions, to the seasons, to birth months that reflect a person in question. Most have four to six elementals that rule their practices. Like land, water, fire, air, metal, spirit. The conventions can be rigid. Say … if for example, a person is wanting a job, the assigned element to that job would not be encouraged unless your birth month element was complementary to that job. An arbitrary example would be if a person wished to be, say an electrician, a fire element job, would require the person to be born in a fire month to be considered suitable. They respect hierarchy and nature.” 

 

“But this group has some notable divergences,” Raer offered quickly.

 

“That is utterly ridiculous,” Cartmel commented with disdain in her voice. 

 

“Well, as ridiculous as it may sound, it remains an aspect that is important to engaging with them effectively,” he commented in a voice that took on a slightly harsh tone, reflecting his internal irritation with Cartmel’s dismissiveness. “That is why I’m here, after all. That’s why we requested their input. Though I may add, the fact that elemental and nature-based belief systems have been around for tens of thousands of years, and survived the Bottleneck, is a testament to the potential validity of those practices.”

 

“For ignorant people,” Cartmel scoffed before her voice raised in exasperation as she addressed Jacinth directly. “See what a headache it is dealing with the people of this world?”

 

As uneasy glances moved between everyone, Cartmel gave no time for any comment as she quickly asked. 

 

“How does this apply here? And what are the notable divergences?”

 

“If I may,” Raer offered as she sat straight and placed the papers to her lap. “It applies as I have been told the group has requested the ground to be consecrated upon removal of the piece. To properly do so to their satisfaction, being sensitive to their ways is imperative. I can assure what will be required is nothing too resource intensive. And it may be of benefit for the project coordinator to guarantee the group that the person picking it up is the proper elemental. I wouldn’t elaborate on what they are; only that they are. After I confirm what needs to be done, I will be happy to share with Jacinth this information. As to your second question …” 

 

Raer paused and looked at Jacinth with an expression that appeared to be one of concern, as if she were seeking permission from him. It was one that Jacinth seemed to recognize as he nodded encouragingly as Raer continued. 

 

“Excuse my hesitation, I simply didn’t want to inculpate Jacinth or Tane of any wrongdoing by sharing information with me. But I was told about the Watzeens’ interest in the artifact, and the subsequent encounter with this group of Adenan Okens. And because of the nature of their group, it makes sense.” 

 

He looked at Cartmel; he could clearly see her interest was piqued, as she kept her eyes focused on Raer and urged. 

 

“If what you can offer is of interest, I will overlook Jacinth and Tane being so free with company protocols. Tell me why it makes sense.” 

 

“I will try to summarize,” Raer responded, taking a deep breath as she continued. “This specific group is known as the Kur’kio, named after the founder of their sect many solar years ago. An interesting group as they are both survivalist and, for all intents and purposes, fatalists. They, for example, view all geological extinction events as an inevitability. Believing that nature will reset itself in order to secure its ultimate survival. This includes societal resets, such as the Bottleneck … believing these resets are destined based on a host of metrics that I only have a basic knowledge of. Nevertheless, they are ultimately survivalists who I can say with certainty have been preparing for some time for the next bottleneck, as they believe it’s upon them. What I unfortunately cannot say is if this artifact has anything to do with it. We’re all aware of how Watzeens are keen to collect and retain artifacts in a preservation effort. The Kur’kio group is aware of this, too. I can only speculate that, based on their practices and beliefs, they just didn’t want the Watzeens to hoard the item away.”

 

“But why would the Watzeens be so zealous in their desire to retrieve it?” he asked, as his own genuine interest was captured by what was being put forth. 

 

“I’m sorry, but I cannot answer that,” Raer spoke in a soft apologetic tone. “Nor do I feel comfortable speculating.”

 

“I’m perfectly capable of surmising,” Cartmel pronounced with annoyance. “The Watzeens’ collection is for control and ego purposes alone. They would collect a useless rock if they thought someone was interested in it. And while it might have some significance, I’m sure it will be overall disappointing. However, given this extra information, my directive stands. I want this retrieved in the next couple days.”

 

His attention was turned, as Linkraf, followed by Raer, stood from their seats as Linkraf announced. 

 

“And with such directives, we will take our leave now that we are of no further use.” 

 

Linkraf turned his attention to Jacinth, who was standing himself, as he continued. 

 

“Jacinth. It’s always the greatest of pleasures to see you. I will assist Raer in her confirmation of what will be needed and have the information sent to you directly.” 

 

“Let me escort you both out,” Jacinth offered with a hasty voice. 

 

“That’s unnecessary, but thank you for offering,” Linkraf assured Jacinth with a light smile. 

 

“Na’thot. Would you be so kind as to escort our visitors to the entrance? Thank you,” Jacinth spoke over the desk intercom. 

 

As the moment passed, Linkraf took the opportunity to address Cartmel as he remarked. 

 

“Thank you again, Cartmel, for sitting in with us. If you ever need council, Sanctuary is always available and I would be happy to meet with you personally.” 

 

He watched as Cartmel only stared at Linkraf, as if she were trying to gauge the intentions of his words.

 

But before any response could be given, Na’thot opened the office door and gestured for Linkraf and Raer to follow.  

 

“Raer,” Jacinth addressed quickly. “I hope to see you again very soon.” 

 

“I hope for that as well,” Raer responded with a sweet smile as she followed Linkraf out of the office. 

 

As the door closed, he unleashed a vocal breath of relief as his concerns for how the meeting would go was finally being released. But his breath and his tension immediately pulled back, as Cartmel spoke in a firm and commanding tone. 

 

“No, Jacinth.”

 

He looked to Jacinth as he returned to his seat and studied Cartmel with a genuinely inquisitive look as he asked.

 

“No? In what regard?”

 

Cartmel, who showed her usual irritation, spoke in a low forceful voice.

 

“I would never welcome her as your partner. It would be a derogation to you, and in turn me. Initial point, she is a Consign. I don’t need any supplementary moral drivel affecting your judgment. It is already tiresome to contend with. Additionally, while she’s obviously very intelligent, she is aggravatingly timid about it and …”

 

“A derogation?” Jacinth interrupted with a hint of a bemused laugh. “Don’t you think you are being a bit dramatic and cliche? Father was not of any special stature and you …”

 

Cartmel returned the interruption, the irritation in her voice becoming more clear.

 

“Your father was the perfect physical specimen of a man, that was his glowing quality. Which brings me to another point about her. She has no such redeeming qualities in her physical appearance.”

 

“Come now, she is very fetching,” Jacinth argued with a continued bemusement at the conversation at hand. 

 

“Her features are nothing special,” Cartmel glared as her criticism continued. “She is a sweet-cute, her eyes being the most favorable, and that is all the praise I will allow her. Her ample backside is distracting. Her hair is a dry mess. And her complexion is far too fair to be healthy. I don’t know why you would pursue such when there are so many more beautiful women in this world. Yet again, you let that perfectly acceptable Orla woman slip through your fingers those many quarturns ago. Just another point of your continued failures.”

 

Jacinth shook his head and let out a breath of vexation but kept his voice controlled.

 

“There is no need to take umbrage, I have no designs toward her in that manner. We’re very close friends. It is possible for men and women to be friends without ulterior motives on either part.“

 

“I’m well aware of that,” Cartmel declared. “Some people have the strength of character to not follow the lead of their genitalia. And while I want to give you credit enough to believe you are stronger than common animal instincts, you do have the distinct habit of disappointing me.” 

 

“Well,” Jacinth offered with a sigh of acceptance to Cartmel’s berating, “you have no need for concerns that I will disappoint you in my partner choice. As I said; Raer and I are close friends only. She is a great conversationalist, excellent company, and is of good … moral … counsel.”

 

He felt a grin pulling at the sides of his mouth that he quickly suppressed as he found humor in Jacinth’s emphasis of the word “moral,” as if he were trying to provoke Cartmel.

 

It was a provocation that worked; Cartmel scowled at Jacinth and shook her head lightly with irk. But as she suddenly turned from her position and walked toward the office door, she spoke over her shoulder in a discontenting manner. 

 

“Keep it that way.”

 

As the door closed behind Cartmel with a slam, he turned his full attention to Jacinth and felt his eyes widen with the bewilderment of the exchange. He shook his head and asked.

 

“What was all that about?”

 

“Deo only knows,” Jacinth breathed out with resignation as he mused. “I would swear to you; sometimes I think she’s addicted to conflict. As if she craves the rush of anger.” 

 

“She’s exhausting,” he admitted.

 

He studied Jacinth as he nodded, and seemed to consider further the question of what the conversation was truly about. Jacinth seemed to contemplate a couple of his internal thoughts for a couple moments before he announced with a feigned, untroubled tone.

 

“Let’s get some fresh air before we make our final plans for Diboli.” 

 

• • •

 

Tane glanced at Jacinth as they stood at the wall of vending machines inside the little retaining wall planter lined the square. Jacinth was perusing the beverages and taking his time. Not that he had minded. Even just being out of the building of Hylatee was always a welcome event. And while they were only a couple of city blocks away, with each step away from the building, it felt as if he could take a deeper breath.

 

The rattle and thud of the can coming out of the machine interrupted his thoughts. He looked again at Jacinth, who was retrieving his beverage. Jacinth gestured toward the retaining wall, to which they slowly moved over to sit.

 

As they sat, he watched as Jacinth seemed to be staring into his drink. Deep in whatever thoughts were troubling him. He wondered if one such was concerning Orla.

 

He was actually quite surprised to hear Cartmel mention Orla. From his observations, Jacinth had dated very little over the many solar years they had known one another. Too, most of the dates Jacinth had engaged were singular in their nature. Orla was the only woman of prominence from Jacinth’s past that he had alluded to a handful of times in passing. While Jacinth did not show any particular affection toward her in those mentions, there seemed to be a connection that kept her in Jacinth’s mind. But as the quiet remained, he finally took the initiative and asked.

 

“You’re wondering why Cartmel mentioned Orla?”

 

Jacinth moved his head from side to side as if he were weighing the response.

 

“Not exactly. She has brought her up on a couple of occasions in similar situations. She did not care for Orla, either. It is just a mechanism to debase me and attempt to shame me into being more compliant. Her typical power move.”

 

He nodded and felt better about that aspect of the conversation. Though he was still curious about Orla as he asked.

 

“Have you spoken with Orla at all?”

 

Jacinth responded quietly, with a hint of sadness.

 

“A couple of months ago. We decided to keep a low contact profile for the time being, based on everything that is going on.”

 

It was that sadness that Jacinth expressed that prompted him to ask in a careful, but straightforward, manner.

 

“I know you’re not in a particular hurry to bring someone into your life, given the current conditions. But your hesitation makes me wonder if you still have hopes for a future with Orla.” 

 

Jacinth kept staring into his drink, but shook his head no. He seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment, but tripped on them as he spoke.

 

“No … she’s … it’s complicated. She’s happy with her partner, and even if things were different, my thoughts toward her are not of the romantic variety.” 

 

He nodded and decided not to further pry concerning the “complicated” nature Jacinth referenced. As quickly as things arose, it seemed the bits of information that came at him were piecemeal at best, and he would have to be satisfied with it. However, he was still not clear what was bothering Jacinth. But before he could ask, Jacinth offered a glimpse into his thoughts as he spoke. 

 

“I want to thank you for understanding me so well this morning, and offering to have the Consigns come in. You provided me with an extensive opportunity. Granted, the information we were able to gather was helpful. But with the Watchers reporting on so many of my meetings with Raer, I knew it was raising questions with my mother. I needed to establish our formal and informal relationship in order to subside any questions mother may have.” 

 

“And that relationship is genuinely platonic?” he asked. 

 

“With Raer?” Jacinth asked in response. “Oh, very much so. I’m not hiding anything from you either. I meant what I said. She is one of my closest friends. And while she’s one of the few I feel comfortable sharing physical contact with, I have no designs toward her in a romantic sense. That will not change, I’m sure.” 

 

As Jacinth paused, he took a deep breath and continued. 

 

“As I have said, I have made a significant decision. However, in light of a couple of incidents I will spare you from the burden of knowing, I have come to realize I’ve been entirely too careless. I keep underestimating how paranoid my mother is. But I am learning — quickly. That is why I have chosen to share this with you now, at this location. These machines, due to their protective fields to keep enaid from shorting their circuits out, disturb the effectiveness of listening devices to null. This is how carefully I must plan around my mother and her Watchers. But on the matter of Raer in particular, I needed my mother to see her, to know of our professional and personal relationship, as a means to place her in plain sight.” 

 

“I think I understand perfectly what you’re getting at,” he commented. “To hide, in any way, your connection to Raer, you would be arousing suspicion. But to engage with her, as you would with me, would place her in a category of least interest.” 

 

“Precisely!” Jacinth declared with a voice of relief, as if he were pleased his intentions were clear. “She should now have moved from a person of question in my mother’s mind to one of common association. Like yourself or … Amala.”

 

“But she’s not like myself or Amala,” he observed. 

 

“She is not,” Jacinth confirmed. “I don’t fear for her too much. She’s not as timid as she appears and can take care of herself. But her connections are vital, and those are what I aim to protect.”

 

“You worry me,” he admitted with an uneasy voice.

 

“For that I apologize,” Jacinth offered.

 

As they sat there for several moments in silence, sipping their drinks, his mind began to shift from one concern to another, as he was still processing all that had been brought to his attention that day. He let out a vocal sigh that was unfortunately accompanied by a weariness that had taken firm hold from the day as he asked. 

 

“So what of our plans for this artifact?” 

 

“I believe we should return to the office. Leave directly from there for our respective homes. Rest a while, and much later this evening, make our way to Diboli. I will have Termi and Na’thot accompany us. But other than that, I don’t foresee any other course of action that is required. We will simply have to see what awaits us and how to proceed from there,” Jacinth put forth. 

 

“This sounds like an agreeable plan,” he commented. “Despite being exhausted and not looking forward to navigating a flight, I’m already feeling refreshed by the prospect of being away from here.” 

 

He looked at Jacinth, who smiled brightly and nodded in agreement.

 

“Same, my friend. Same.”​​​​​