That is...chilling. They live, for now. Better than becoming a wraith. But I am not sure they will enjoy the stay.
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So, the wraiths will be explored more later on; fractured worlds, dark energy and psionics will be pretty focal to the storyline. To answer the question, it was pretty painful.
Oh no. A spec ops mission; skipping through a Imperium system and essentially endangering the Imperium forces because they had to go and save their asses? They're in a lot of trouble; and the Mirati are not inclined to give them a pass for just following orders.
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Anastajia: Ch. I
“An empire of thousands of stars. We had brought the Galaxy under our control and laid waste to ancient empires. Here I stand, the last Emperor of humanity.”
Emedev Assen, last Emperor of the Human Empire
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Salo Helise
Rumbles echoed through the spaceport with the stop of the starship’s engine. Dappled rays of light filtered through the grid and into the hangar, shining onto a young woman and her Vissari companion.
“I don’t like this, Plume. Taufaean’s are not fond of my kind…” She spoke softly.
“They are not your crimes, my dear child. You had nothing to do with it.” He replied immediately, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “We are here as representatives of the Order.”
“I understand… I hope they will too.” She nodded reluctantly.
After the duo made their way through customs and earning more than a few stink-eyes from the security personnel, a diplomatic escort appeared at the exit of the Kalealise spaceport. Half a dozen Taufeans wearing military equipment were in tow of a tall, golden maned Taufean.
Donning white and blue duroceramic armor, they were dressed in the colors of their very Republic. Judging by their dark energy rifles, they were most likely former special operations enlisted in the direct service of the Prime Minister. Unlike the others, the leading one seemed to be wearing traditional Kalealisen robes.
A species of bipedal mammal, the Taufeans closely resembled lions. Covered in fur from top to bottom, their species grew on the Dune World of Kalealise, deep within the Alpha Quadrant of the galaxy, in the Salo Helise system.
Plume and the girl made eye contact with the group before bowing their heads respectfully and lowering their hoods. A couple of Taufeans’s expressions stiffened at the reveal of the woman’s face.
The golden maned Taufaean raised his right hand, before lightly bowing his head in return. His imposing stature towered above both Plume and the girl, standing somewhere around seven feet.
“I apologize for my escorts. It has been long since we have welcomed a human on Kalealise.” he uttered, displaying a cordial smile. “I welcome thee, Psionites. It is not often that the members of your order come to visit our planet. I am Aju Zhu, advisor to Prime Minister Giaei Shidu. I will be escorting you to the Republican Palace.”
“You honor us with your presence, Aju Zhu. I am Plume of Silver, Elder of the Order of Psion. This is Anastajia”, he motioned to the young woman, “my apprentice.”
Anastajia bowed her head lightly, openly holding her fist in her other palm. “I greet thee.”
Aju Zhu nodded to her before refocusing his attention on Plume. “Pardon my curiosity, Elder, but you’ve introduced yourself as one of the Silver clan. Are you perhaps a member of the Vissasi clan of Silver?”
Plume was visibly annoyed, but he nodded affirmatively. “I was, once. But all that is in the past. I retain my name, but not my titles, please remember that. To the Taufaean Republic, I’m merely an Elder of the Psionic Order.”
Aju Zhu exhaled loudly but conceded. “I understand.” Turning around, with the waft of his hand, the escort parted in two, opening the path of the advisor and his two guests. “Please follow me. We’ll be taking a shuttle to the Palace.”
A sea of green within the harsh dunes of the planet; the Kalealise capital of Disha sprawled over two million square kilometers. Taufaean’s took pride in their ability to conquer and reshape the sprawling deserts of their native planet, building large hydroponic facilities and beautiful gardens sprawling for hundreds of kilometers.
Skyscrapers muddled the center of Disha, hosting a large portion of the administrative component of the Republic, as well as the living quarters for many of the planet’s specialists. An aggressively cooperative race, many of their fundamental beliefs bordered into what humans would have thousands of years ago described as communism.
A short while later, the delegation arrived at the Republican Palace. If someone were to describe it, the most appropriate term would probably be “A Great Work”. Its tallest level could reach 724 meters, while the building itself covered over 424000 square meters. Its inner walls were decorated with golden marble, one of the most expensive materials native to the planet of Kalealise.
Its long corridors were adorned with gigantic Sylosi rugs, spanning dozens of meters. It was a marvel, and probably a financial disaster. But it was the pride of the Taufaean’s, so was there really a price too high for their crown jewel?
After a quick tour of the Palace, Aju Zhu, alongside Plume and Anastajia finally arrived at their destination, one of the conference rooms on the tallest level. Inside, Prime Minister Giaei Shidu alongside two bodyguards were already waiting. Giaei Shidu was a brown maned Taufaean, much smaller in stature than his advisor Aju Zhi.
“Apologies for the delay, Prime Minister. As I understand, there was a holdup at the customs office, so our esteemed guests were abit late.” Aju Zhi explained. “As you know, these are two Psionites I told you of a while back.” He motioned towards the duo.
“Our apologies for running late, Prime Minister Shidu. I am Plume of Silver, Elder of the Order of Psion, and this is my apprentice, Anastajia.” Plume bowed his head deeply, spreading his wing forward as is customary on Viss.
Anastajia mimicked her master’s bow and then openly held her fist in her other palm without a sound to salute.
Prime Minister Shidu’s gaze locked onto Anastajia, scrutinizing her every move as the two bodyguards behind him also tensed.
“A human Psionite, how peculiar.” Shidu remarked. “Master Psion, pray tell, since when does the Order of Psion train psionic humans? Has the last galactic conflict not been enough of a mess for your order? ”
Plume softly exhaled, straightening his back. As he forced himself a courteous smile, he laid his hand on his apprentice’s shoulder; he could feel her tense up.
“Our order trains any psionics, your greatness, irrespective of their species. Anastajia has been training with our order since her childhood. To judge a child for their ancestor’s mistakes would simply show that we are unable to learn and leave the past behind.”
Aju Zhi shot a glance towards the brown maned Taufaean in anticipation. Shidu sighed before wafting his hand.
“Perhaps you’re right, Master Psion. No point in debating what your Order chooses to do.” He conceded before motioning one of his guards to approach. After whispering something in his ear, the guard departed and then returned carrying a large neutronium case. “I understand that you are here for the Blade of the Huntress.”
Plume nodded lightly. “Indeed. Our order thanks the Taufaean Republic for its cooperation.”
One of the guards then opened the case, revealing the psionic blade to Plume and Anastajia. A large dark blade, made of long-lost alloys tempered by the energy of the Shroud itself. It was much more than a blade, a tool for combat. It was a psionic conduit, built so that the wielder may hyperfocus their psionic powers. Records state that those who wielded this blade could tear through subspace itself, paving the way for warships to travel faster through the vastness of the void.
“An old Kalealisen legend states that during the battle of Najaga, in the Dark Space, an ancient Psionic Warrior used the blade to slash through an enemy fleet, unleashing a deadly psionic blast that tore the fleet apart in moments and culled the life of the system itself, killing every living being in the blasts radius.” Shidu explained “Although after we analyzed the blade ourselves, we wouldn’t be too surprised if there was some truth to it.”
“Beautiful…” the girl muttered. “It is brimming with Psionic energy.” She said as she extended her hand to touch it, only for Plume to catch her hand and shake his head.
“No, my young apprentice. Artifacts that have been touched by the Shroud bear incredible power. A power that weighs on the mind. A power that would lull even the most strong-willed. Do not be careless, or you would find yourself enslaved by its power.”
She acknowledged Plume’s warning and retracted her hand, quickly apologizing. Plume then turned towards Prime Minister Shidu once again.
“We thank thee once again, Prime Minister. We will take the artifact to our order, where it will be kept safe, out of the hands of anyone who could seek to use it.”
“Make sure you do so, Master Psion. Our situation does not allow us to keep this artifact, but we hope that no evil gets their hand on this blade.” Shidu sighed. “Our very own people had lost much at the hand of this blade, and those who wielded it.” He added as he fixated his gaze on Anastajia once again.
Anastajia looked towards the ground, remaining silent. Plume noticed that, releasing a concerned sigh.
“Then we shall depart.” Plume said before reaching towards the case and closing it. Spreading his wing around Anastajia, like a caring father shielding his child, the duo departed with a small escort.
As the sound of their steps drowned out, Aju Zhi turned towards his Prime Minister, saluting him before saying:
“Are you sure about this, Shidu? Is it truly wise to allow the Psionic Order to house this artifact?”
Shidu cupped his hands together, resting his chin against them.
“Time will tell, my dear friend, but I know that the Kalealisi Order could never protect it properly. Though they may have psionic abilities, the goal of the Order had always been to pursue enlightenment, to understand the connection between our world and the Shroud. They’re not warriors…” Shidu sighed. “At least not to the same extent as the Order of Psion. And I don’t want the Ecclesians to get their hands on it.”
After leaving the Republican Palace, the escort accompanying the duo of Plume and Anastajia ultimately departed after dropping them off near the spaceport.
Plume and Anastajia slowly made their way inside, silently. Plume could sense her fidgeting, attempting but failing to speak up multiple times, probably feeling embarrassed by the reactions she got from the Taufaean parties.
It was a common occurrence, unfortunately. The galaxy did not have much love left for the Human species ever since the height of the Coalition War, the largest galactic conflict in over ten thousand years, and the end of the Human Empire of Kni’thokon. An empire so vast and so strong that the rest of the Galaxy had to band together to take it down. But the empire’s ascension led it to stray through a dark path.
With the development of the Dark Energy Reactor, later classified as the ‘Delta Reactor’, the Human Empire gained an undeniable advantage over the rest of the Galaxy. An advantage that quickly spiraled out of control, as waves of development brought about a new arms race. Harnessing the dark energies of black holes, human scientists developed weaponry that the Curator Order considered equal to “Enigmatic Technology”.
Enigmatic Technology, a moniker for the technology used by ancient, dormant empires such as the Ouijanese. It was a precursor civilization that met its fiery end at the hands of the Human Empire, a few decades before the start of the Coalition War. Enigmatic Technology was, in short, dark matter technology. By harnessing the power of black holes, it could be processed into dark energy, which would in turn fuel ships, weaponry or different facilities and equipment.
The scientific explanation is fuzzy at best and should be left to scholars, but the undeniable reality was that the weaponry born out of this technology was miles above even the most efficient plasma throwers and largest kinetic batteries. For years, the Coalition could do nothing but stall the advance of the Human Empire at the cost of entire worlds.
However, the tide had turned when the Mirati Imperium also joined the war. Another ancient civilization, though not as old as the precursors themselves, was dragged into the war when the Empire violated their borders and laid waste to one of their systems; a fatal mistake that would ultimately cost them their empire.
Unlike the rest of the coalition, the Mirati Imperium also possessed knowledge of this enigmatic technology. In fact, their application of technology was far more efficient than that of the Human Empire. After all, they had studied it for centuries, while the Humans had barely begun to peek into the true void.
In the end, the Mirati chose to share the technology with the rest of the coalition, albeit a more primitive, but functional version of the technology. By the end of the decade, the Human Empire was pushed back to Kni’thokon, and the Star Throne was destroyed, engulfed in a ball of blue energy.
Let us return to the present, however. Anastajia, one of the few humans within the Order of Psion, was no stranger to the persecution from the other galactic races. Plume of Silver, one of the wisest Psions of the Order took the girl as his apprentice in her early teens when he discovered her on a space station within Dark Space.
“My dear child, I can sense that you are troubled. I’ve waited for you to speak, yet you still hesitate to speak your mind.” Plume asserted softly, like a concerned father. His wing spread, surrounding Anastajia at his side, as if shielding her from anything else. “Tell me. What bothers you?”
“It… It’s the usual, master.” Anastajia confessed, painfully. “Everywhere I go, they give me weird looks. All of them must think of me as some sort of monster.” Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, as she heaved a deep sigh to fight them back.
“Hmm…” Plume pondered. “Anastajia…” he called out to her as he stopped, resting his spare hand on her shoulder. Slowly, he knelt and lifted her chin. “You must learn to let go of these feelings. You are not the author of your ancestor’s actions. You are not them. If you are to ever be at peace, you must do so.”
“It’s not fair, you know? Other apprentices at the Order shun me. I can sense some of the Magister’s fear and distrust me…”
Plume smiled softly.
“Fear and distrust are feelings born from the unknown. You are the only human apprentice in training on Zith.” He slightly gripped her shoulder before pushing himself up. “Your psionic powers come once in a hundred generations. You rival the Grand Psion himself in raw psionic power.” Plume nodded, pulling his hand back. “But to achieve that, you need to attain balance within yourself, Anastajia. You must face your feelings, and when you do that, you will see that you will grow.”
Anastajia bobbed her head meekly, as if not fully convinced.
“I… I understand.”
Plume retracted his wing as stretched out his shoulder.
“Let us go then. Our ship is at the end of this corridor.”
A short while after, the duo entered the hangar. Much to Anastajia’s surprise and Plume’s concern, the interior seemed to be eerily empty, bar the ship itself. It was quiet, extremely quiet. It was so quiet that you could hear the electricity crackle from the wall lights.
“Is this a Taufaean plot?” Plume thought to himself. “No… It is unlike them. They’ve never shied away from denying our requests in the past… I doubt they’d need to pull something like this off.”
“Master!” Anastajia called out to him. “I can sense something… I don’t know who it is… but he is a psionic… And he’s extremely strong.”
Anastajia visibly tensed up, moving her hand into her waistline as a hooded figure exited from their ship. By the shape of his body, he was clearly a humanoid, though none of his skin was exposed. His face, covered by his hood and a crimson, metallic mask.
Plume himself spread out his wings, assuming a defensive stance before calling out to the masked figure.
“Greetings, friend. May I know what you are doing with our ship?”
But there was no answer.
“Do you understand me? My name is Plume. May I know what you are looking for on our ship?”
No answer again.
“I don’t think he’s a talkative one, Master.” Anastajia whispered. “What are we going to do?”
“For now, hold onto the case.” Plume responded quickly, before leaving the case with her. He then turned towards the masked figure once again and slowly took a few steps forward. “My friend, do you understand what—”
Before he could even finish his sentence, the masked figure leapt forward, immediately closing the distance between them. With a single thrust, he sent Plume flying backwards.
“Guh”, Plume groaned as he quickly regained his footing with the help of his wings. But before he could say anything again, the figure dashed towards Anastajia.
Immediately, the girl stepped backwards and reached into her waistline for her plasma pistol, aiming it at her assailant. Within a second, she felt her grip on the handle failing, and the weapon was sent flying towards the other end of the hangar. The masked man thrusted his open palm towards her head.
“I won’t be able to dodge—”
“No, you don’t!” Plume shouted out as he blocked the strike with one of his wings.
Immediately, he spun around to deliver a kick, but his strike was blocked. A flurry of strikes ensued, the two fighters blocking every strike coming their way.
While the battle ensued, Anastajia circled around, making her way onto the ship, and securing the case in the cargo hold.
“I need a weapon… I need a weapon… Why is there no weapon on this damned ship?!”
She cried out internally as she rummaged through the ship.
“We go retrieve a Psionic relic and he doesn’t bring a spare weapon to defend ourselves!”
She cursed and cursed while looking through each locker with frustration. In the end she would have to concede that her search would not bear fruit and make her way towards the pilot’s seat. As she ran through her ship’s corridor, the ground beneath her shook violently. Master Plume and the masked man were engaging in a Psionic battle.
Rumble, shake, rumble, but the girl would dutifully enter her seat and ignite the engines.
“Time to get out of here!” Anastajia yelled out at the top of her lungs, hoping that Plume would be able to hear her.
Slowly, the ship would lift off the ground, turning towards the fight.
`Dodge, Plume!` She called out to him, telepathically.
Heeding her call and sensing immediate danger, Plume unleashed a devastating psionic blast towards the masked man and then leapt back, covering himself with his wings.
A thick cloud of smoke formed around the attacker as he deployed a defensive barrier to block Plume’s blast, but as quickly as it dispersed…
“Let’s see how you’re going to tank this!”
Anastajia unleashed the ship’s dark energy cannons while Plume jumped onto the ship. A thick, green cloud appeared as the cannons pounded the attackers location, tearing apart the durasteel plating on the ground and ceiling. In the meantime, Plume made it inside the ship.
“Overriding pilot controls. I’m getting us out of here, Anastajia. Keep shooting him!”
Plume barked loudly and with a wheeze. Tapping a few buttons on the console, the pilot’s stick quickly stuck out from the center of the console. As they made their escape, the fire alarms finally rang throughout the station, leaving behind them nothing but a thick ball of green smoke.
“That was too close for comfort, Master! Far too close!” Anastajia collapsed in her seat, clutching at her own forehead. “What was that guy’s deal?!”
Plume shrugged his shoulders, his body still aching from the earlier battle.
“I don’t know, but he’s bad news. He’d give most of the Elders back at the Order a run for their money.”
“Really, Master?! I couldn’t tell! He was about to take my head clean off!” she puffed, angrily, clutching at her forehead.
“We’ve secured the Blade of the Huntress, and that’s what matters for now. We can think about who that was and what he wanted later when we reach Zith.” Plume responded quickly.
“He wanted the Blade, master! I know that!” she interjected. “I could… feel it… Sense it.”
Plume turned his gaze towards her as he engaged the ships autopilot function.
“Sense it?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.” She thrashed her arms around. “When he gazed at me, it felt like something was trying to claw its way through my head and enter my mind. Instead, I was the one who ended up in his… well, for a brief moment.”
“Hmm…” Plume pondered. “Most likely a telepathic attack. Looking for information or trying to get you to drop your guard.”
“It sounds usefu—“
But before she could finish her sentence, Plume stared her down. Anastajia remained silent, switching her gaze back to her console, as if the buttons had suddenly become the most interesting things on this ship.
“Nonetheless, the fact that you resisted that technique speaks wonders of your progress. I’m proud of you.”
Plume smiled and nodded in acknowledgement before turning to face the void once again. Anastajia’s shoulders shuddered lightly, the girl being overjoyed at her masters words.
Their destination… the planet of Zith. Home of the Order of Psion.
Emedev Assen, last Emperor of the Human Empire
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Salo Helise
Rumbles echoed through the spaceport with the stop of the starship’s engine. Dappled rays of light filtered through the grid and into the hangar, shining onto a young woman and her Vissari companion.
“I don’t like this, Plume. Taufaean’s are not fond of my kind…” She spoke softly.
“They are not your crimes, my dear child. You had nothing to do with it.” He replied immediately, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “We are here as representatives of the Order.”
“I understand… I hope they will too.” She nodded reluctantly.
After the duo made their way through customs and earning more than a few stink-eyes from the security personnel, a diplomatic escort appeared at the exit of the Kalealise spaceport. Half a dozen Taufeans wearing military equipment were in tow of a tall, golden maned Taufean.
Donning white and blue duroceramic armor, they were dressed in the colors of their very Republic. Judging by their dark energy rifles, they were most likely former special operations enlisted in the direct service of the Prime Minister. Unlike the others, the leading one seemed to be wearing traditional Kalealisen robes.
A species of bipedal mammal, the Taufeans closely resembled lions. Covered in fur from top to bottom, their species grew on the Dune World of Kalealise, deep within the Alpha Quadrant of the galaxy, in the Salo Helise system.
Plume and the girl made eye contact with the group before bowing their heads respectfully and lowering their hoods. A couple of Taufeans’s expressions stiffened at the reveal of the woman’s face.
The golden maned Taufaean raised his right hand, before lightly bowing his head in return. His imposing stature towered above both Plume and the girl, standing somewhere around seven feet.
“I apologize for my escorts. It has been long since we have welcomed a human on Kalealise.” he uttered, displaying a cordial smile. “I welcome thee, Psionites. It is not often that the members of your order come to visit our planet. I am Aju Zhu, advisor to Prime Minister Giaei Shidu. I will be escorting you to the Republican Palace.”
“You honor us with your presence, Aju Zhu. I am Plume of Silver, Elder of the Order of Psion. This is Anastajia”, he motioned to the young woman, “my apprentice.”
Anastajia bowed her head lightly, openly holding her fist in her other palm. “I greet thee.”
Aju Zhu nodded to her before refocusing his attention on Plume. “Pardon my curiosity, Elder, but you’ve introduced yourself as one of the Silver clan. Are you perhaps a member of the Vissasi clan of Silver?”
Plume was visibly annoyed, but he nodded affirmatively. “I was, once. But all that is in the past. I retain my name, but not my titles, please remember that. To the Taufaean Republic, I’m merely an Elder of the Psionic Order.”
Aju Zhu exhaled loudly but conceded. “I understand.” Turning around, with the waft of his hand, the escort parted in two, opening the path of the advisor and his two guests. “Please follow me. We’ll be taking a shuttle to the Palace.”
A sea of green within the harsh dunes of the planet; the Kalealise capital of Disha sprawled over two million square kilometers. Taufaean’s took pride in their ability to conquer and reshape the sprawling deserts of their native planet, building large hydroponic facilities and beautiful gardens sprawling for hundreds of kilometers.
Skyscrapers muddled the center of Disha, hosting a large portion of the administrative component of the Republic, as well as the living quarters for many of the planet’s specialists. An aggressively cooperative race, many of their fundamental beliefs bordered into what humans would have thousands of years ago described as communism.
A short while later, the delegation arrived at the Republican Palace. If someone were to describe it, the most appropriate term would probably be “A Great Work”. Its tallest level could reach 724 meters, while the building itself covered over 424000 square meters. Its inner walls were decorated with golden marble, one of the most expensive materials native to the planet of Kalealise.
Its long corridors were adorned with gigantic Sylosi rugs, spanning dozens of meters. It was a marvel, and probably a financial disaster. But it was the pride of the Taufaean’s, so was there really a price too high for their crown jewel?
After a quick tour of the Palace, Aju Zhu, alongside Plume and Anastajia finally arrived at their destination, one of the conference rooms on the tallest level. Inside, Prime Minister Giaei Shidu alongside two bodyguards were already waiting. Giaei Shidu was a brown maned Taufaean, much smaller in stature than his advisor Aju Zhi.
“Apologies for the delay, Prime Minister. As I understand, there was a holdup at the customs office, so our esteemed guests were abit late.” Aju Zhi explained. “As you know, these are two Psionites I told you of a while back.” He motioned towards the duo.
“Our apologies for running late, Prime Minister Shidu. I am Plume of Silver, Elder of the Order of Psion, and this is my apprentice, Anastajia.” Plume bowed his head deeply, spreading his wing forward as is customary on Viss.
Anastajia mimicked her master’s bow and then openly held her fist in her other palm without a sound to salute.
Prime Minister Shidu’s gaze locked onto Anastajia, scrutinizing her every move as the two bodyguards behind him also tensed.
“A human Psionite, how peculiar.” Shidu remarked. “Master Psion, pray tell, since when does the Order of Psion train psionic humans? Has the last galactic conflict not been enough of a mess for your order? ”
Plume softly exhaled, straightening his back. As he forced himself a courteous smile, he laid his hand on his apprentice’s shoulder; he could feel her tense up.
“Our order trains any psionics, your greatness, irrespective of their species. Anastajia has been training with our order since her childhood. To judge a child for their ancestor’s mistakes would simply show that we are unable to learn and leave the past behind.”
Aju Zhi shot a glance towards the brown maned Taufaean in anticipation. Shidu sighed before wafting his hand.
“Perhaps you’re right, Master Psion. No point in debating what your Order chooses to do.” He conceded before motioning one of his guards to approach. After whispering something in his ear, the guard departed and then returned carrying a large neutronium case. “I understand that you are here for the Blade of the Huntress.”
Plume nodded lightly. “Indeed. Our order thanks the Taufaean Republic for its cooperation.”
One of the guards then opened the case, revealing the psionic blade to Plume and Anastajia. A large dark blade, made of long-lost alloys tempered by the energy of the Shroud itself. It was much more than a blade, a tool for combat. It was a psionic conduit, built so that the wielder may hyperfocus their psionic powers. Records state that those who wielded this blade could tear through subspace itself, paving the way for warships to travel faster through the vastness of the void.
“An old Kalealisen legend states that during the battle of Najaga, in the Dark Space, an ancient Psionic Warrior used the blade to slash through an enemy fleet, unleashing a deadly psionic blast that tore the fleet apart in moments and culled the life of the system itself, killing every living being in the blasts radius.” Shidu explained “Although after we analyzed the blade ourselves, we wouldn’t be too surprised if there was some truth to it.”
“Beautiful…” the girl muttered. “It is brimming with Psionic energy.” She said as she extended her hand to touch it, only for Plume to catch her hand and shake his head.
“No, my young apprentice. Artifacts that have been touched by the Shroud bear incredible power. A power that weighs on the mind. A power that would lull even the most strong-willed. Do not be careless, or you would find yourself enslaved by its power.”
She acknowledged Plume’s warning and retracted her hand, quickly apologizing. Plume then turned towards Prime Minister Shidu once again.
“We thank thee once again, Prime Minister. We will take the artifact to our order, where it will be kept safe, out of the hands of anyone who could seek to use it.”
“Make sure you do so, Master Psion. Our situation does not allow us to keep this artifact, but we hope that no evil gets their hand on this blade.” Shidu sighed. “Our very own people had lost much at the hand of this blade, and those who wielded it.” He added as he fixated his gaze on Anastajia once again.
Anastajia looked towards the ground, remaining silent. Plume noticed that, releasing a concerned sigh.
“Then we shall depart.” Plume said before reaching towards the case and closing it. Spreading his wing around Anastajia, like a caring father shielding his child, the duo departed with a small escort.
As the sound of their steps drowned out, Aju Zhi turned towards his Prime Minister, saluting him before saying:
“Are you sure about this, Shidu? Is it truly wise to allow the Psionic Order to house this artifact?”
Shidu cupped his hands together, resting his chin against them.
“Time will tell, my dear friend, but I know that the Kalealisi Order could never protect it properly. Though they may have psionic abilities, the goal of the Order had always been to pursue enlightenment, to understand the connection between our world and the Shroud. They’re not warriors…” Shidu sighed. “At least not to the same extent as the Order of Psion. And I don’t want the Ecclesians to get their hands on it.”
After leaving the Republican Palace, the escort accompanying the duo of Plume and Anastajia ultimately departed after dropping them off near the spaceport.
Plume and Anastajia slowly made their way inside, silently. Plume could sense her fidgeting, attempting but failing to speak up multiple times, probably feeling embarrassed by the reactions she got from the Taufaean parties.
It was a common occurrence, unfortunately. The galaxy did not have much love left for the Human species ever since the height of the Coalition War, the largest galactic conflict in over ten thousand years, and the end of the Human Empire of Kni’thokon. An empire so vast and so strong that the rest of the Galaxy had to band together to take it down. But the empire’s ascension led it to stray through a dark path.
With the development of the Dark Energy Reactor, later classified as the ‘Delta Reactor’, the Human Empire gained an undeniable advantage over the rest of the Galaxy. An advantage that quickly spiraled out of control, as waves of development brought about a new arms race. Harnessing the dark energies of black holes, human scientists developed weaponry that the Curator Order considered equal to “Enigmatic Technology”.
Enigmatic Technology, a moniker for the technology used by ancient, dormant empires such as the Ouijanese. It was a precursor civilization that met its fiery end at the hands of the Human Empire, a few decades before the start of the Coalition War. Enigmatic Technology was, in short, dark matter technology. By harnessing the power of black holes, it could be processed into dark energy, which would in turn fuel ships, weaponry or different facilities and equipment.
The scientific explanation is fuzzy at best and should be left to scholars, but the undeniable reality was that the weaponry born out of this technology was miles above even the most efficient plasma throwers and largest kinetic batteries. For years, the Coalition could do nothing but stall the advance of the Human Empire at the cost of entire worlds.
However, the tide had turned when the Mirati Imperium also joined the war. Another ancient civilization, though not as old as the precursors themselves, was dragged into the war when the Empire violated their borders and laid waste to one of their systems; a fatal mistake that would ultimately cost them their empire.
Unlike the rest of the coalition, the Mirati Imperium also possessed knowledge of this enigmatic technology. In fact, their application of technology was far more efficient than that of the Human Empire. After all, they had studied it for centuries, while the Humans had barely begun to peek into the true void.
In the end, the Mirati chose to share the technology with the rest of the coalition, albeit a more primitive, but functional version of the technology. By the end of the decade, the Human Empire was pushed back to Kni’thokon, and the Star Throne was destroyed, engulfed in a ball of blue energy.
Let us return to the present, however. Anastajia, one of the few humans within the Order of Psion, was no stranger to the persecution from the other galactic races. Plume of Silver, one of the wisest Psions of the Order took the girl as his apprentice in her early teens when he discovered her on a space station within Dark Space.
“My dear child, I can sense that you are troubled. I’ve waited for you to speak, yet you still hesitate to speak your mind.” Plume asserted softly, like a concerned father. His wing spread, surrounding Anastajia at his side, as if shielding her from anything else. “Tell me. What bothers you?”
“It… It’s the usual, master.” Anastajia confessed, painfully. “Everywhere I go, they give me weird looks. All of them must think of me as some sort of monster.” Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, as she heaved a deep sigh to fight them back.
“Hmm…” Plume pondered. “Anastajia…” he called out to her as he stopped, resting his spare hand on her shoulder. Slowly, he knelt and lifted her chin. “You must learn to let go of these feelings. You are not the author of your ancestor’s actions. You are not them. If you are to ever be at peace, you must do so.”
“It’s not fair, you know? Other apprentices at the Order shun me. I can sense some of the Magister’s fear and distrust me…”
Plume smiled softly.
“Fear and distrust are feelings born from the unknown. You are the only human apprentice in training on Zith.” He slightly gripped her shoulder before pushing himself up. “Your psionic powers come once in a hundred generations. You rival the Grand Psion himself in raw psionic power.” Plume nodded, pulling his hand back. “But to achieve that, you need to attain balance within yourself, Anastajia. You must face your feelings, and when you do that, you will see that you will grow.”
Anastajia bobbed her head meekly, as if not fully convinced.
“I… I understand.”
Plume retracted his wing as stretched out his shoulder.
“Let us go then. Our ship is at the end of this corridor.”
A short while after, the duo entered the hangar. Much to Anastajia’s surprise and Plume’s concern, the interior seemed to be eerily empty, bar the ship itself. It was quiet, extremely quiet. It was so quiet that you could hear the electricity crackle from the wall lights.
“Is this a Taufaean plot?” Plume thought to himself. “No… It is unlike them. They’ve never shied away from denying our requests in the past… I doubt they’d need to pull something like this off.”
“Master!” Anastajia called out to him. “I can sense something… I don’t know who it is… but he is a psionic… And he’s extremely strong.”
Anastajia visibly tensed up, moving her hand into her waistline as a hooded figure exited from their ship. By the shape of his body, he was clearly a humanoid, though none of his skin was exposed. His face, covered by his hood and a crimson, metallic mask.
Plume himself spread out his wings, assuming a defensive stance before calling out to the masked figure.
“Greetings, friend. May I know what you are doing with our ship?”
But there was no answer.
“Do you understand me? My name is Plume. May I know what you are looking for on our ship?”
No answer again.
“I don’t think he’s a talkative one, Master.” Anastajia whispered. “What are we going to do?”
“For now, hold onto the case.” Plume responded quickly, before leaving the case with her. He then turned towards the masked figure once again and slowly took a few steps forward. “My friend, do you understand what—”
Before he could even finish his sentence, the masked figure leapt forward, immediately closing the distance between them. With a single thrust, he sent Plume flying backwards.
“Guh”, Plume groaned as he quickly regained his footing with the help of his wings. But before he could say anything again, the figure dashed towards Anastajia.
Immediately, the girl stepped backwards and reached into her waistline for her plasma pistol, aiming it at her assailant. Within a second, she felt her grip on the handle failing, and the weapon was sent flying towards the other end of the hangar. The masked man thrusted his open palm towards her head.
“I won’t be able to dodge—”
“No, you don’t!” Plume shouted out as he blocked the strike with one of his wings.
Immediately, he spun around to deliver a kick, but his strike was blocked. A flurry of strikes ensued, the two fighters blocking every strike coming their way.
While the battle ensued, Anastajia circled around, making her way onto the ship, and securing the case in the cargo hold.
“I need a weapon… I need a weapon… Why is there no weapon on this damned ship?!”
She cried out internally as she rummaged through the ship.
“We go retrieve a Psionic relic and he doesn’t bring a spare weapon to defend ourselves!”
She cursed and cursed while looking through each locker with frustration. In the end she would have to concede that her search would not bear fruit and make her way towards the pilot’s seat. As she ran through her ship’s corridor, the ground beneath her shook violently. Master Plume and the masked man were engaging in a Psionic battle.
Rumble, shake, rumble, but the girl would dutifully enter her seat and ignite the engines.
“Time to get out of here!” Anastajia yelled out at the top of her lungs, hoping that Plume would be able to hear her.
Slowly, the ship would lift off the ground, turning towards the fight.
`Dodge, Plume!` She called out to him, telepathically.
Heeding her call and sensing immediate danger, Plume unleashed a devastating psionic blast towards the masked man and then leapt back, covering himself with his wings.
A thick cloud of smoke formed around the attacker as he deployed a defensive barrier to block Plume’s blast, but as quickly as it dispersed…
“Let’s see how you’re going to tank this!”
Anastajia unleashed the ship’s dark energy cannons while Plume jumped onto the ship. A thick, green cloud appeared as the cannons pounded the attackers location, tearing apart the durasteel plating on the ground and ceiling. In the meantime, Plume made it inside the ship.
“Overriding pilot controls. I’m getting us out of here, Anastajia. Keep shooting him!”
Plume barked loudly and with a wheeze. Tapping a few buttons on the console, the pilot’s stick quickly stuck out from the center of the console. As they made their escape, the fire alarms finally rang throughout the station, leaving behind them nothing but a thick ball of green smoke.
“That was too close for comfort, Master! Far too close!” Anastajia collapsed in her seat, clutching at her own forehead. “What was that guy’s deal?!”
Plume shrugged his shoulders, his body still aching from the earlier battle.
“I don’t know, but he’s bad news. He’d give most of the Elders back at the Order a run for their money.”
“Really, Master?! I couldn’t tell! He was about to take my head clean off!” she puffed, angrily, clutching at her forehead.
“We’ve secured the Blade of the Huntress, and that’s what matters for now. We can think about who that was and what he wanted later when we reach Zith.” Plume responded quickly.
“He wanted the Blade, master! I know that!” she interjected. “I could… feel it… Sense it.”
Plume turned his gaze towards her as he engaged the ships autopilot function.
“Sense it?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.” She thrashed her arms around. “When he gazed at me, it felt like something was trying to claw its way through my head and enter my mind. Instead, I was the one who ended up in his… well, for a brief moment.”
“Hmm…” Plume pondered. “Most likely a telepathic attack. Looking for information or trying to get you to drop your guard.”
“It sounds usefu—“
But before she could finish her sentence, Plume stared her down. Anastajia remained silent, switching her gaze back to her console, as if the buttons had suddenly become the most interesting things on this ship.
“Nonetheless, the fact that you resisted that technique speaks wonders of your progress. I’m proud of you.”
Plume smiled and nodded in acknowledgement before turning to face the void once again. Anastajia’s shoulders shuddered lightly, the girl being overjoyed at her masters words.
Their destination… the planet of Zith. Home of the Order of Psion.
- 2
Wow this is a really great story, thanks for writing it!
I’m very much looking forward to seeing how the blade of the huntress comes in and who is seeking it
I’m very much looking forward to seeing how the blade of the huntress comes in and who is seeking it
It looks like there is very much... speciesism... against humans. I can understand why but still... poor Anastajia.
Given how powerful it is, anyone could want the Blade of the Huntress. Will other factions or empires hunt down Plume and Anastajia for it?
Who are these Ecclesians that were mentioned?
I look forward to learning more about the Order of Psion.
Given how powerful it is, anyone could want the Blade of the Huntress. Will other factions or empires hunt down Plume and Anastajia for it?
Who are these Ecclesians that were mentioned?
I look forward to learning more about the Order of Psion.
Nice to have you on board! Really glad you enjoy it so far!
So, I'm pretty sure that I mentioned the Ecclesians before; but like I said, those initial stories are abit of background/lore drop, so it might skip through the cracks.
Ecclesians refer to the Order of Ecclesia, which is part of the Imperium; a psionic order much like the Order of Psion. There are multiple psionic orders in the Galaxy.
Secrets of Kni’thokon
Discovery of the Delta Reactor has once more brought the Galaxy to the precipice. With the fall of the Ouijanese Empire, the Great Galactic Human Empire stumbled upon ancient blueprints and matrices of technology long lost to even the Fallen...
- 1
Anastajia: Ch. II
“The Blade of the Huntress is the key. Find it, and bring it to me, and I will grant you power unlike the Galaxy has ever seen before.”
Unknown
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Zith
A few days had passed since Plume and Anastajia made their escape from Kalealise. On their way back to Zith, they had passed through the Galactic Gateway Network, allowing them to enter the Gamma Quadrant in less than three days, from one end of the galaxy to another.
Zith was a continental planet located on the edge of Dark Space, a few systems away from the edge of the known galaxy. It was colonized by the Order of Psion several hundred years ago, standing watch over the lost areas of space, stopping explorers and artifact thieves from entering the ruined systems of Najaga, Marfark and many others.
Najaga, the haunted resting place of ancients, and a grim reminder of the destruction that can be caused when artifacts such as the Blade of the Hundress are used by powerful psionic beings. To this day, Najaga III lies fractured in the middle of space, its violent dark storms luring explorers and stupid psionics.
“Say, Master Plume…” Anastajia glanced towards the Vissari Psion “when will you finally teach me how to use a conduit?” she asked. “You know. For defense purposes?”
Plume slowly brushed the feathers on his own chin.
"What do you need to wield a weapon for, my child? A conduit will not help you use your powers."
"Defense purposes. Like when that masked freak decided to show up at our ship?"
“You had a plasma pistol, did you not?” he inquired “Which we’ll have to replace when we arrive on Zith, since you lost it.”
Anastajia cringed slightly. “I didn’t exactly lose it. It was more like yank—”
“Yanked away from you?” Plume interrupted. “What difference does it make?”
“I was ca—” she tried to defend herself, but the Vissari would interrupt her once again.
“But you were caught off guard.”
“Can you please stop finishing off my sentences?!”
Anastajia cried out as she leapt to her feet, frustrated by Plume’s attempts to pry her mind open.
“I hate it when you read my mind!”
Plume shrugged slightly, unfazed by her outburst.
“It is part of your training. You must never forget that—”
“A psionic’s greatest strength is its mental fortitude. I know that I get it.” Anastajia cut him off this time.
Plume sighed while the girl sat back down on her seat. The rest of the journey would be a long few silent hours.
By the end of the day, Plume and Anastajia docked at the Psionite Academy on Zith. Its tall spires bloated out the sun, and its halls stretched out for several kilometers. What appeared to be a gigantic fortress was really a psionic nexus; a construction over an ancient psionic ritual site used by the precursors to commune with the Shroud.
Surrounding the Academy itself, a sprawling garden, brimming with life. Flora, both native and alien to the planet of Zith stretched out for hundreds of meters. It fed on the energy of the psionic nexus, growing and shrinking as its power fluctuates through the years. In recent years, the garden has expanded to its largest size yet, much to the confusion of the Psions.
Within the garden, a series of statues depicting the initial ten founders of the Order of Psion, from Temegal the Wise, one of the greatest telepaths in the history of the galaxy and the only Netetite Psionite the order had ever seen, to Ahtelas the Betrayer, one of the strongest Grand Psions of the Order.
Ahtelas the Betrayer, as his nickname would imply, ultimately betrayed the Order of Psion, corrupted and empowered by the Shroud. His defeat cost the Order several tens of thousands of lives and millions of other lives within the galactic civilizations, leading to the weakning of the order over the centuries. The statue, a reminder of the failures of their predecessors, and a lesson to all future psionites.
Awaiting Plume and Anastajia on the platform, was a bulky, purple squid like being wearing the decorated robes of the Order. It was a Behrfrang, a species native to the planet of Na-Swe-Shuk.
“Grand Psion Turgal.” Plume called out to him. “It is great seeing you again.”
A loud hum could be heard from the Grand Psion’s mouth.
`Plume of Silver, and his apprentice, Anastajia…` he replied telepathically to our duo `It is great to see you in good health. `
Anastajia slowly dipped her head as the Grand Psion continued to hum.
`I trust that everything went well on Kalealise?` the Grand Psion inquired after retrieving the neutronium case from the two.
“Not quite…” Anastajia replied meekly and quietly. “We were attacked by another psionic.”
“It’s true, Grand Psion. We were ambushed at our shuttle by a sole psionic. He was… strange. He was not interested in conversation and attacked us instead.”
“Nearly took my head off too…” Anastajia muttered.
Turgal remained silent, pondering Plume’s words.
`Tell me more inside, Plume of Silver. Anastajia, you’re free to do as you please for now, but make sure that you are within reach.`
Anastajia bobbed her head in excitement, leaping off the platform and into the gardens below.
`As energetic as ever…` Turgal sighed.
Plume clucked softly.
Later that day, within the Grand Psion’s chambers.
`Your story troubles me, Plume of Silver.` Turgal said, pouring the Vissari a cup of tea. It was a vivid blue, characteristic to the plants found on Vissas.
“Frost flowers… I didn’t think we had any left at the Academy, Master.” Plume wallowed in the aroma of the hot drink.
`It is an acquired taste, but I’ve grown to enjoy it. It’s not really popular with our non-Vissari students, though.` Turgal replied, lowering himself onto his cushion.
Plume took a few moments to enjoy the tea, reminiscing of the cold winds of his homeland. He hadn’t been there in a few decades, though he kept in touch with his mother from time to time, if only to hear her voice. Life at the Order of Psion was not entirely easy; besides the usual trials its members face, be it peacekeeping missions or artifact retrieval, it was a very lonely life.
Attachment between members of the Order was forbidden, and though there was no explicit rule against relations with people outside of the Order, there really wasn’t any time for it. Most members carried out their missions then returned to the temple.
“I don’t think he fought us seriously, Master.” Plume said with concern. “I could feel him holding back. It was like he was testing us… Much to my dismay, his raw psionic power was far greater than mine. Very... feral... angry.” Plume stopped just short of finishing his sentence.
`Much like your apprentices?` Turgal would finish it for him.
Plume nodded silently.
`Your apprentice’s raw psionic powers have been unheard of for several generations. She may not be aware of it yet, but her raw energy feeds the life surrounding the temple every time she trains in the Chamber of Meditation.` he would continue on. `I have lived for centuries, yet I have never seen such raw power. Unfortunately... in spite of the training you’ve been doing with her, all of her movements are still wasteful, leaky. If she would learn to control her powers, she would be the greatest psionite our Order had ever seen.`
Plume sighed.
“In spite of what she thinks, she’s progressing swiftly. We’ve not had any incident in months, and she can use her telepathic powers on command. During the battle, she even resisted her mind being pierced through.”
`Interesting. Do you think it was a conscious effort? ` Turgal inquired.
“No. She said as much. It seems her instincts did most of the work for her, subconsciously.”
Plume was visibly concerned with his apprentice’s powers. Psionics are generally more emotional than the normal individual, and they require great mental fortitude and mental tempering to use their powers safely and efficiently. It was not unheard of psionics losing control of their powers and rampaging; and it was exactly this that concerned him. She was volatile.
`Anastajia’s training must continue, Plume of Silver. I don’t think she will ever attain a balance, but we must try, nonetheless. Take her to the Chamber of Meditation.` Turgal instructed, interlocking his tendrils inside his robes sleeves.
“Master, you’re not thinking of—” Plume rose to his feet immediately.
`She must face communion. We will pierce the Shroud, and she will take her first few steps.`
“It’s too soon.” Plume protested, spreading the wings on his back in frustration in defiance towards the Grand Psion.
`You were not much older when you underwent your first communion, Plume.` Turgal replied.
“Nor was I as gifted as her. We don’t know what we will find on the other side this time. She will be like a blinding sun in a sea of darkness.”
`Perhaps. Perhaps not. We know not of what we will find, but we do know that the longer we delay this, the harder it will be for her to progress in the future.`
“You want her to progress?”
Turgal silently rose to his feet.
`If she cannot progress, she will never learn to control her powers. If she cannot control her powers, she risks losing her mind to the Shroud one day. And if she does…`
Plume stiffened.
`If she does, we need to do what we must to ensure the safety of our Order.`
Turgal motioned to the door, causing Plume to slowly stand up to his feet.
`She is practically an adult. I will give her a few more weeks. If she cannot control her powers by then…` Turgal paused for a moment and then sighed. `I do not want to take any radical actions, but if I must, I will. Now go.`
Plume grit his beak, folding his wings.
“By your will, Grand Psion.”
Turning around and visibly frustrated, Plume exited the Grand Psion’s chambers, making his way down the halls.
Unknown
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Zith
A few days had passed since Plume and Anastajia made their escape from Kalealise. On their way back to Zith, they had passed through the Galactic Gateway Network, allowing them to enter the Gamma Quadrant in less than three days, from one end of the galaxy to another.
Zith was a continental planet located on the edge of Dark Space, a few systems away from the edge of the known galaxy. It was colonized by the Order of Psion several hundred years ago, standing watch over the lost areas of space, stopping explorers and artifact thieves from entering the ruined systems of Najaga, Marfark and many others.
Najaga, the haunted resting place of ancients, and a grim reminder of the destruction that can be caused when artifacts such as the Blade of the Hundress are used by powerful psionic beings. To this day, Najaga III lies fractured in the middle of space, its violent dark storms luring explorers and stupid psionics.
“Say, Master Plume…” Anastajia glanced towards the Vissari Psion “when will you finally teach me how to use a conduit?” she asked. “You know. For defense purposes?”
Plume slowly brushed the feathers on his own chin.
"What do you need to wield a weapon for, my child? A conduit will not help you use your powers."
"Defense purposes. Like when that masked freak decided to show up at our ship?"
“You had a plasma pistol, did you not?” he inquired “Which we’ll have to replace when we arrive on Zith, since you lost it.”
Anastajia cringed slightly. “I didn’t exactly lose it. It was more like yank—”
“Yanked away from you?” Plume interrupted. “What difference does it make?”
“I was ca—” she tried to defend herself, but the Vissari would interrupt her once again.
“But you were caught off guard.”
“Can you please stop finishing off my sentences?!”
Anastajia cried out as she leapt to her feet, frustrated by Plume’s attempts to pry her mind open.
“I hate it when you read my mind!”
Plume shrugged slightly, unfazed by her outburst.
“It is part of your training. You must never forget that—”
“A psionic’s greatest strength is its mental fortitude. I know that I get it.” Anastajia cut him off this time.
Plume sighed while the girl sat back down on her seat. The rest of the journey would be a long few silent hours.
By the end of the day, Plume and Anastajia docked at the Psionite Academy on Zith. Its tall spires bloated out the sun, and its halls stretched out for several kilometers. What appeared to be a gigantic fortress was really a psionic nexus; a construction over an ancient psionic ritual site used by the precursors to commune with the Shroud.
Surrounding the Academy itself, a sprawling garden, brimming with life. Flora, both native and alien to the planet of Zith stretched out for hundreds of meters. It fed on the energy of the psionic nexus, growing and shrinking as its power fluctuates through the years. In recent years, the garden has expanded to its largest size yet, much to the confusion of the Psions.
Within the garden, a series of statues depicting the initial ten founders of the Order of Psion, from Temegal the Wise, one of the greatest telepaths in the history of the galaxy and the only Netetite Psionite the order had ever seen, to Ahtelas the Betrayer, one of the strongest Grand Psions of the Order.
Ahtelas the Betrayer, as his nickname would imply, ultimately betrayed the Order of Psion, corrupted and empowered by the Shroud. His defeat cost the Order several tens of thousands of lives and millions of other lives within the galactic civilizations, leading to the weakning of the order over the centuries. The statue, a reminder of the failures of their predecessors, and a lesson to all future psionites.
Awaiting Plume and Anastajia on the platform, was a bulky, purple squid like being wearing the decorated robes of the Order. It was a Behrfrang, a species native to the planet of Na-Swe-Shuk.
“Grand Psion Turgal.” Plume called out to him. “It is great seeing you again.”
A loud hum could be heard from the Grand Psion’s mouth.
`Plume of Silver, and his apprentice, Anastajia…` he replied telepathically to our duo `It is great to see you in good health. `
Anastajia slowly dipped her head as the Grand Psion continued to hum.
`I trust that everything went well on Kalealise?` the Grand Psion inquired after retrieving the neutronium case from the two.
“Not quite…” Anastajia replied meekly and quietly. “We were attacked by another psionic.”
“It’s true, Grand Psion. We were ambushed at our shuttle by a sole psionic. He was… strange. He was not interested in conversation and attacked us instead.”
“Nearly took my head off too…” Anastajia muttered.
Turgal remained silent, pondering Plume’s words.
`Tell me more inside, Plume of Silver. Anastajia, you’re free to do as you please for now, but make sure that you are within reach.`
Anastajia bobbed her head in excitement, leaping off the platform and into the gardens below.
`As energetic as ever…` Turgal sighed.
Plume clucked softly.
Later that day, within the Grand Psion’s chambers.
`Your story troubles me, Plume of Silver.` Turgal said, pouring the Vissari a cup of tea. It was a vivid blue, characteristic to the plants found on Vissas.
“Frost flowers… I didn’t think we had any left at the Academy, Master.” Plume wallowed in the aroma of the hot drink.
`It is an acquired taste, but I’ve grown to enjoy it. It’s not really popular with our non-Vissari students, though.` Turgal replied, lowering himself onto his cushion.
Plume took a few moments to enjoy the tea, reminiscing of the cold winds of his homeland. He hadn’t been there in a few decades, though he kept in touch with his mother from time to time, if only to hear her voice. Life at the Order of Psion was not entirely easy; besides the usual trials its members face, be it peacekeeping missions or artifact retrieval, it was a very lonely life.
Attachment between members of the Order was forbidden, and though there was no explicit rule against relations with people outside of the Order, there really wasn’t any time for it. Most members carried out their missions then returned to the temple.
“I don’t think he fought us seriously, Master.” Plume said with concern. “I could feel him holding back. It was like he was testing us… Much to my dismay, his raw psionic power was far greater than mine. Very... feral... angry.” Plume stopped just short of finishing his sentence.
`Much like your apprentices?` Turgal would finish it for him.
Plume nodded silently.
`Your apprentice’s raw psionic powers have been unheard of for several generations. She may not be aware of it yet, but her raw energy feeds the life surrounding the temple every time she trains in the Chamber of Meditation.` he would continue on. `I have lived for centuries, yet I have never seen such raw power. Unfortunately... in spite of the training you’ve been doing with her, all of her movements are still wasteful, leaky. If she would learn to control her powers, she would be the greatest psionite our Order had ever seen.`
Plume sighed.
“In spite of what she thinks, she’s progressing swiftly. We’ve not had any incident in months, and she can use her telepathic powers on command. During the battle, she even resisted her mind being pierced through.”
`Interesting. Do you think it was a conscious effort? ` Turgal inquired.
“No. She said as much. It seems her instincts did most of the work for her, subconsciously.”
Plume was visibly concerned with his apprentice’s powers. Psionics are generally more emotional than the normal individual, and they require great mental fortitude and mental tempering to use their powers safely and efficiently. It was not unheard of psionics losing control of their powers and rampaging; and it was exactly this that concerned him. She was volatile.
`Anastajia’s training must continue, Plume of Silver. I don’t think she will ever attain a balance, but we must try, nonetheless. Take her to the Chamber of Meditation.` Turgal instructed, interlocking his tendrils inside his robes sleeves.
“Master, you’re not thinking of—” Plume rose to his feet immediately.
`She must face communion. We will pierce the Shroud, and she will take her first few steps.`
“It’s too soon.” Plume protested, spreading the wings on his back in frustration in defiance towards the Grand Psion.
`You were not much older when you underwent your first communion, Plume.` Turgal replied.
“Nor was I as gifted as her. We don’t know what we will find on the other side this time. She will be like a blinding sun in a sea of darkness.”
`Perhaps. Perhaps not. We know not of what we will find, but we do know that the longer we delay this, the harder it will be for her to progress in the future.`
“You want her to progress?”
Turgal silently rose to his feet.
`If she cannot progress, she will never learn to control her powers. If she cannot control her powers, she risks losing her mind to the Shroud one day. And if she does…`
Plume stiffened.
`If she does, we need to do what we must to ensure the safety of our Order.`
Turgal motioned to the door, causing Plume to slowly stand up to his feet.
`She is practically an adult. I will give her a few more weeks. If she cannot control her powers by then…` Turgal paused for a moment and then sighed. `I do not want to take any radical actions, but if I must, I will. Now go.`
Plume grit his beak, folding his wings.
“By your will, Grand Psion.”
Turning around and visibly frustrated, Plume exited the Grand Psion’s chambers, making his way down the halls.
- 2
Finally caught up with this anthology series. I have been reading off and on since it dropped at the beginning of the month.
For me, this has been a slow build up, improving each chapter along the way. The story arc with Anastajia is the most interesting (certainly has its space opera/Star Wars roots) so far, but I do want to find out what happens to the captives in the first chapters too. Interested to see where this goes.
Good luck as this progresses.
For me, this has been a slow build up, improving each chapter along the way. The story arc with Anastajia is the most interesting (certainly has its space opera/Star Wars roots) so far, but I do want to find out what happens to the captives in the first chapters too. Interested to see where this goes.
Good luck as this progresses.
Glad to know you're enjoying it.
Yeah, it's somewhat of a slow burn as I use the anthology to build on the universe, factions and essentially kickstart the plot. In truth, besides Anastajia's story there will be two more short stories before it all kicks off.
And I have definitely taken some inspiration from all sorts of space operas.
Anastajia: Ch. III
“A child... Here? Oh my dear child, where are your parents?”
Plume of Silver
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Zith
Meanwhile, in the Academy Gardens
‘I missed this place’ Anastajia thought to herself as she walked through the sprawling pathways. ‘It’s so peaceful here.’
It was. This humongous garden, thriving from the raw psionic energies released from the nexus within the Academy, stretched on for hundreds of meters in all directions. Flowers from all over the galaxy sprouted over here, sustained by life force itself.
Terran roses, Vissasi frost flowers, Baoli poppycock and many others. It was a beauty that could rival the floating gardens of Mireesh Mar, the heart of the Imperium, the seat of power of the Mirati.
Anastajia was not alone, however. Other students at the Academy used to meditate within the gardens, preferring the peace and tranquility as opposed to the overbearing atmosphere within the Chamber of Meditation.
Unfortunately for Anastajia, she could never meditate outside of the Chamber; atleast not for the purpose of tempering her powers. She could never draw her psionic powers outside of the Chamber. It was impossible for her; in fact, drawing out her psionic powers in general felt impossible. She could never do it consciously.
As she walked past the statue of Temegal the Wise she could see a young Behrfrang meditating by the base of the construction. Golden whirls of energy surrounded him, as life itself was drawn towards him. Flowers sprouted and small animals gathered around him. It was so… peaceful.
His power felt warm. She could feel it from several meters away. ‘I wish I could do that too.’ Anastajia thought, as she looked down at her hands. She remained still, watching him meditate for a few more moments.
Behrfrangs were very sensitive psionics. Since birth, their psionic abilities were assessed by their planetary governments and children were trained and then inducted in their national defense forces. Trained for military purposes, the Behrfrangs were some of the most powerful psionics in the Galaxy; fortunately, their typically pacifist nature meant that the purpose of their training was just defensive, to ensure the continued safety and stability of the Behrfrang government.
This edict could not extend to Behrfrangs outside of the Core Behrfrang Worlds however, so the decision to assess and train the offsprings typically fell on the family. Sure, there were programs that reached out to those families, and heavy investments were made to use these programs to bring the families back to Behrfrang territory, but sometimes it didn’t work out. Orphans, for example, often found themselves educated since an early age by the Order of Psion, while less lucky ones were taken in by mercenary forces or even pirates.
After all, a psionic warrior, well trained or not, was easily worth a few dozen, maybe hundreds of non-psionic warriors.
Anastajia exhaled slowly and lowered herself to the ground, facing towards the Behrfrang. Slowing down her breath and closing her eyes, she assumed the meditative position that Plume had taught her years ago. If this Behrangi child could interact with the world like this, maybe she could copy what he’s doing?
A few moments passed. Then a few more minutes. It was like every other time, she could not enter the trance outside of the Chamber. She was frustrated, clenching her fists with all her strength.
‘Come on’, she pleaded. ‘Come on!’
As her frustration rose, unbeknownst to her, the ground surrounding her began to tremble. A rumbling in the air as the grass and flowers surrounding her began to shake as if within the heart of a tempest. It was like a raging torrent surrounding her. Her pulse heightened, as she began to breathe frantically.
‘I can do it.’ she thought to herself.
Slowly but surely, this tempest began to spread wider. It was no longer directly surrounding her, but it grew to cover a few meters in all directions. Its intensity slowly grew; it was so strong it ripped out the flowers and split the ground. It was so strong that it snapped the young Behrfrang out of his meditation.
He began humming frantically as he stared at the young woman in front of him. The intensity of the tempest began to rise once more; his telepathy could not reach her for any reason. The circle grew larger again.
`What are you doing?! Hey! You need to stop before your power gets out of control!` the young one cried out.
As the psionic energies rippled through the air, more apprentices and even teachers started gathering at their location. Anastajia could hear their voices gathering, but she could not make any sense of it. Everything was either muffled or distorted as an image of an endless plain started to form in front of her. For miles upon miles, there was nothing in front of her, but a fiery visage. Sprawling cities came and went, engulfed by endless spheres of purple fire.
‘What… is this?’ she asked herself, as she stared in horror at the destruction laid bare before her.
The scenery shifted immediately to the planet of Zith. In the sky, a dozen jet black Battleships fired indiscriminately upon the Academy, while countless black and white shadows fought on the ground; nothing she could really make sense of.
‘The temple!’ she exclaimed frantically before the scenery shifted once more.
It was now the chamber of the Grand Psion; but this time she could recognize the ones inside. Her master, Plume of Silver and the Grand Psion Turgal were locked into a battle with a mysterious figure. Blow for blow, the figure matched every attack unleashed by the duo, as if dancing and toying with them as it slowly forced them into the large halls of the Academy. Not a single wasteful movement.
Plume and Turgal were at a visible disadvantage; and the mysterious figure pressed on as it slowly grew tired of the engagement, closing the distance between them rippling through the air. Within a moment, it stood before Turgal; and the old Behrfrang could not react in time. It was like time itself froze for Turgal and Plume. An enormous concentration of psionic energy took shape around the figures arm, transforming into a blade of pure energy.
Anastajia gasped in horror as the Grand Psion collapsed to the ground, bissected.
“Master Turgal!” Plume cried out; but it was too late. In a flash, the attacker disappeared and reappeared behind him. Enveloping himself in a thick layer of psionic energy, Plume could barely withstand his blow before being sent flying into the wall by the sheer power of the strike; his shield dissipating as he crashed into the concrete.
Anastajia writhed desperately, unable to move, as the attacker slowly walked over to her master.
Plume exhaled peacefully, relaxing his muscles as the figure stood in front of him. Slowly, he extended his hand forward, dotingly caressing the face before him while Anastajia shook and screamed hopelessly from the side, unable to intervene. Plume lowered his hand before the figure struck with a downwards strike.
A blinding flash erupted, snapping her back to reality.
“Aah?!” she cried out frantically, exhausted by what she just witnessed. Even though she hadn’t fully regained her senses, she could feel everyone surrounding her, watching her. She grit her teeth bitterly, when the young Behrfrang from earlier knelt by her side.
`Are you alright?` he asked her as his lips emitted a soft hum. `You don’t look too good.`
Anastajia nodded slowly and remained silent. Her breathing eventually returned to normal and she pushed herself up to her feet, stumbling on the way up; thankfully, the young molluscoid was there to catch her on the way up.
“Have you nothing better to do? Return to your studies.” And “Make way!” could be heard from the back of the gathering. Plume too appears to have felt the psionic energies released in the garden and made his way towards their source. Upon sighting Anastajia, he exhaled and stared at her in concern. She would not meet his gaze, instead staring into the ground.
Approaching slowly, Plume placed his hands on her shoulders and gripped them lightly.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to see Psion Zhuul.” She replied, still avoiding his gaze.
“Alright. Have her check you out. I’ll come in a moment as well.”
Anastajia departed, her hands in her pockets and her gaze still following the ground.
A few minutes passed since then and the crowd had dispersed. Grand Psion Turgal eventually joined Plume and the young Behrfrang in the garden to assess the situation.
`What in the name of Psion happened here…?` Turgal asked, staring at the now burnt circle of grass and flowers opposite to the statue of Temegal the Wise; the hum of his tendrils now much graver than ever before.
Plume remained silent but nodded to the young Behrfrang.
`It was a human girl, Grand Psion. Anastajia, I believe. She… I don’t know. I believe she attempted actually managed to initiate communion.` he explained.
Turgal’s tendrils curled up and writhed violently.
`Communion? Don’t be ridiculous. An apprentice to initiate a communion? Here? Its unheard of.`
But Plume then replied.
“It’s not impossible. At least not for her, Master.”
Plume stepped forward into the circle and kneeled. He grabbed a fistful of ash, running it through his claws.
“But I never expected this. An affinity for fire.”
Turgal suddenly turned towards the young Behrfrang and latched his tendrils onto his shoulders.
`You. Ebthos, was it?` The young apprentice shook his head affirmatively. `Are you sure she attempted to initiate a communion?`
`I don’t know! It looked like it, at least! I was meditating when I awoke to… to… to that! Whirls of psionic energy! It was like a raging tempest, extending in a circle for several feet around her… Hot… so hot… I thought it would dry out all the moisture in my body.` the young one explained. `Then… the flames… they crackled. It was like there was lightning inside the tempest. She… I don’t know. She looked in pain. She kept pleading for something to stop… By the end of it, a whirl of pure violet energy materialized, and as it materialized, it burned everything within the circle and extinguished itself... It felt like something was going to swallow me whole... then when you appeared, the feeling disappeared.`
`I see… Return to the academy. We’ll come and join the rest of you later. Now go.`
Ebthos nodded and bowed his head to Grand Psion Turgal before turning around immediately for the Academy. Plume let out a deep, heavy sigh while Turgal hummed gravely.
`In the old texts, they talk about the different forms one’s powers can take shape. Strong psionics can use pyrokinesis… electrokinesis… cyrokinesis is not unheard of either. Some of the strongest ones could even use novakinesis, or, manipulate matter itself.`
Plume crossed his arms, somewhat confused at what the Grand Psion was getting at.
`But pyrokinesis could have different scales to intensity. Like normal flames, the hotter the fire, it goes from red… to orange… eventually going as far as reaching blue or white. I'll give you an analogy. Dark energy, the energy produced by harnessing black matter glows green. It’s an infernal heat. And yet, at least one Empire that we know of reached further beyond. Something that noone thought was possible.`
“The Mirati Imperium?”
Turgal nodded.
`Indeed. Somehow, their technology allows their processing of dark energy to produce a blue hue, far more potent than what’s used by the rest of the Galaxy. ‘Alpha Technology’, as they call it.`
“I don’t understand what this has to do with the ancient texts.”
`In the ancient texts, there are tales of psionic warriors producing such pure, virulent energy that it could sometimes physically materialize. We, psionics, see it innately. But a non-psionic would probably never see it coming. Their brains cannot process it in time.` Turgal explained. `Similarly, the power of their energy had different colors… They could not really explain it. They suppose that the extraplanar power of the Shroud itself bends the laws of our reality. Something like that.`
Plume frowned with visible distress. Today, such feats of psionic power are uncommon, though not unheard of. In the Imperium, their Order produces phenomenal psionics, far stronger on average than the Psionic Order. Thankfully, they have appeared to have no interest in waging war upon the galaxy because no one could be able to stop them. Besides them, it was only the Human Empire that produced such psionic monsters.
`Breaching the shroud, the scholars theorized, what if somewhere, even stronger energy can be found? A degree of power that is ever-present in the deepest crevices of the Shroudplane?` Turgal asked, somewhat rhetorically.
“What, do you mean ‘Shroudfire’? The ever-burning purple fire fields of the Shroud? That’s insane, Master.” Plume denied his theory on the spot.
“Surely you’re not suggesting that her psionic powers are so strong that they could materialize Shroudfire. Pyrokinesis, sure, but to such an extent?”
`I’m not suggesting anything. I am merely recounting ancient information. Maybe I’m reading too hard into this.` Turgal shrugged his shoulders `Either way, I’ve changed my mind. She cannot attempt communion inside the Temple. I won’t allow that thing inside the energy nexus.`
Plume visibly tensed as Turgal pondered. He pondered, and pondered, staring in silence at the statue of Temegal.
`She cannot continue her training on Zith.` Plume’s heart sank as the anvil dropped. Turgal continued. `She is a threat to the very safety of the students of this academy, and perhaps all of us.`
Slowly but steadily, the air surrounding the old Grand Psion began to ripple and crackle, materializing a whirl of psionic energy. Plume gulped as he began to visibly shake.
`Perhaps I should nip it in the bud right now.`
However, in a moment, the Vissasi took a step forward, unleashing his own psionic energy.
`Really? You would defy me, my old apprentice?` Turgal spoke out to him softly. ‘You still plead for her given what you have seen? You do know, deep down, that neither of us is equipped to deal with this.`
Plume remained silent and steadfast. A few more moments passed. At this sight, Turgal just gave up, restraining his aura. Plume followed suit, before bowing to his master.
“Thank you… Master Turgal.”
`No. Do not thank me yet. I will offer you a compromise. ` Turgal approached him silently before placing his tendrils on his shoulder. `Seek out Idrithel.`
Plume froze for a second. “Idrithel? Are you sure? She’s returned to Mireesh Mar many years ago. She wanted nothing more to do with the order.”
`If there’s someone who could help her train these powers, it’s her. She’s similar to her, in many ways.`
“But… would she accept?”
`She will. Tell her that I will owe her a favor. Now go, and take the girl with you.`
Plume nodded resolutely and turned around to make his way to the Academy.
`Plume!` Turgal called out to him. `Remember. She was once one of us, but now she is the leader of the Order of Ecclesia. She’s a faithful follower of the Empress. Keep that in mind.`
“I will keep that in mind.” Plume answered, slowly disappearing from his sight.
`You do that… for that’s the only thing you can do.`
Inside the Temple’s infirmary…
“You should be fine now, my dear.” the woman said softly. “It’s merely exhaustion, it’ll pass with some rest.”
Anastajia climbed to her feet, stretching out her arms and legs.
“Thank you, Psion.” she bowed her head. “I already feel better.”
The woman smiled. “Very well then. Go on, git.” and she waved her off.
Anastajia exited into the halls, where Plume was already waiting for her.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Anastajia nodded silently.
“Great.” Plume continued. “Pack up your things, we’re heading to Mireesh Marr.”
“Mireesh Marr?!” she exclaimed. “That’s the capital of the Imperium, isn’t it?” she frowned. “Isn’t that place like, super dangerous? Is it a mission?”
Plume sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“We’re not going on a mission, my dear apprentice.” Plume explained. “We’re going to Idrithrel.”
Anastajia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Idrithrel? Who’s that?”
“Hmm… I’m not surprised you don’t know her. She used to be a Psion.” Plume replied. “Long ago, before I took you in.”
“Used to?” she inquired. “I thought… I thought the Order is like, a permanent sort of deal.”
Well. Not quite. Leaving the order wasn’t entirely uncommon, certainly not in the latest generations. It’s somewhat different for Psions, however. After decades in the Order, those veritable forces of nature wouldn’t be let go so easily to just wander the Galaxy.
Plume grimaced slightly, visibly uncomfortable.
“It’s… complicated. Look. She’s an old friend of the Master Turgal… and she’s probably one of the strongest psionites in the Galaxy. She’s also… like you, Anastajia.”
Anastajia stared down at her hands. “Like me?”
“Sort of. Look. If anyone’s going to be able to help you with your powers, it’s going to be her.” Plume cut her off quickly. “So, coming with?”
Anastajia clenched her fists, a determined look in her eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go… To Mireesh Mar.”
Plume of Silver
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Zith
Meanwhile, in the Academy Gardens
‘I missed this place’ Anastajia thought to herself as she walked through the sprawling pathways. ‘It’s so peaceful here.’
It was. This humongous garden, thriving from the raw psionic energies released from the nexus within the Academy, stretched on for hundreds of meters in all directions. Flowers from all over the galaxy sprouted over here, sustained by life force itself.
Terran roses, Vissasi frost flowers, Baoli poppycock and many others. It was a beauty that could rival the floating gardens of Mireesh Mar, the heart of the Imperium, the seat of power of the Mirati.
Anastajia was not alone, however. Other students at the Academy used to meditate within the gardens, preferring the peace and tranquility as opposed to the overbearing atmosphere within the Chamber of Meditation.
Unfortunately for Anastajia, she could never meditate outside of the Chamber; atleast not for the purpose of tempering her powers. She could never draw her psionic powers outside of the Chamber. It was impossible for her; in fact, drawing out her psionic powers in general felt impossible. She could never do it consciously.
As she walked past the statue of Temegal the Wise she could see a young Behrfrang meditating by the base of the construction. Golden whirls of energy surrounded him, as life itself was drawn towards him. Flowers sprouted and small animals gathered around him. It was so… peaceful.
His power felt warm. She could feel it from several meters away. ‘I wish I could do that too.’ Anastajia thought, as she looked down at her hands. She remained still, watching him meditate for a few more moments.
Behrfrangs were very sensitive psionics. Since birth, their psionic abilities were assessed by their planetary governments and children were trained and then inducted in their national defense forces. Trained for military purposes, the Behrfrangs were some of the most powerful psionics in the Galaxy; fortunately, their typically pacifist nature meant that the purpose of their training was just defensive, to ensure the continued safety and stability of the Behrfrang government.
This edict could not extend to Behrfrangs outside of the Core Behrfrang Worlds however, so the decision to assess and train the offsprings typically fell on the family. Sure, there were programs that reached out to those families, and heavy investments were made to use these programs to bring the families back to Behrfrang territory, but sometimes it didn’t work out. Orphans, for example, often found themselves educated since an early age by the Order of Psion, while less lucky ones were taken in by mercenary forces or even pirates.
After all, a psionic warrior, well trained or not, was easily worth a few dozen, maybe hundreds of non-psionic warriors.
Anastajia exhaled slowly and lowered herself to the ground, facing towards the Behrfrang. Slowing down her breath and closing her eyes, she assumed the meditative position that Plume had taught her years ago. If this Behrangi child could interact with the world like this, maybe she could copy what he’s doing?
A few moments passed. Then a few more minutes. It was like every other time, she could not enter the trance outside of the Chamber. She was frustrated, clenching her fists with all her strength.
‘Come on’, she pleaded. ‘Come on!’
As her frustration rose, unbeknownst to her, the ground surrounding her began to tremble. A rumbling in the air as the grass and flowers surrounding her began to shake as if within the heart of a tempest. It was like a raging torrent surrounding her. Her pulse heightened, as she began to breathe frantically.
‘I can do it.’ she thought to herself.
Slowly but surely, this tempest began to spread wider. It was no longer directly surrounding her, but it grew to cover a few meters in all directions. Its intensity slowly grew; it was so strong it ripped out the flowers and split the ground. It was so strong that it snapped the young Behrfrang out of his meditation.
He began humming frantically as he stared at the young woman in front of him. The intensity of the tempest began to rise once more; his telepathy could not reach her for any reason. The circle grew larger again.
`What are you doing?! Hey! You need to stop before your power gets out of control!` the young one cried out.
As the psionic energies rippled through the air, more apprentices and even teachers started gathering at their location. Anastajia could hear their voices gathering, but she could not make any sense of it. Everything was either muffled or distorted as an image of an endless plain started to form in front of her. For miles upon miles, there was nothing in front of her, but a fiery visage. Sprawling cities came and went, engulfed by endless spheres of purple fire.
‘What… is this?’ she asked herself, as she stared in horror at the destruction laid bare before her.
The scenery shifted immediately to the planet of Zith. In the sky, a dozen jet black Battleships fired indiscriminately upon the Academy, while countless black and white shadows fought on the ground; nothing she could really make sense of.
‘The temple!’ she exclaimed frantically before the scenery shifted once more.
It was now the chamber of the Grand Psion; but this time she could recognize the ones inside. Her master, Plume of Silver and the Grand Psion Turgal were locked into a battle with a mysterious figure. Blow for blow, the figure matched every attack unleashed by the duo, as if dancing and toying with them as it slowly forced them into the large halls of the Academy. Not a single wasteful movement.
Plume and Turgal were at a visible disadvantage; and the mysterious figure pressed on as it slowly grew tired of the engagement, closing the distance between them rippling through the air. Within a moment, it stood before Turgal; and the old Behrfrang could not react in time. It was like time itself froze for Turgal and Plume. An enormous concentration of psionic energy took shape around the figures arm, transforming into a blade of pure energy.
Anastajia gasped in horror as the Grand Psion collapsed to the ground, bissected.
“Master Turgal!” Plume cried out; but it was too late. In a flash, the attacker disappeared and reappeared behind him. Enveloping himself in a thick layer of psionic energy, Plume could barely withstand his blow before being sent flying into the wall by the sheer power of the strike; his shield dissipating as he crashed into the concrete.
Anastajia writhed desperately, unable to move, as the attacker slowly walked over to her master.
Plume exhaled peacefully, relaxing his muscles as the figure stood in front of him. Slowly, he extended his hand forward, dotingly caressing the face before him while Anastajia shook and screamed hopelessly from the side, unable to intervene. Plume lowered his hand before the figure struck with a downwards strike.
A blinding flash erupted, snapping her back to reality.
“Aah?!” she cried out frantically, exhausted by what she just witnessed. Even though she hadn’t fully regained her senses, she could feel everyone surrounding her, watching her. She grit her teeth bitterly, when the young Behrfrang from earlier knelt by her side.
`Are you alright?` he asked her as his lips emitted a soft hum. `You don’t look too good.`
Anastajia nodded slowly and remained silent. Her breathing eventually returned to normal and she pushed herself up to her feet, stumbling on the way up; thankfully, the young molluscoid was there to catch her on the way up.
“Have you nothing better to do? Return to your studies.” And “Make way!” could be heard from the back of the gathering. Plume too appears to have felt the psionic energies released in the garden and made his way towards their source. Upon sighting Anastajia, he exhaled and stared at her in concern. She would not meet his gaze, instead staring into the ground.
Approaching slowly, Plume placed his hands on her shoulders and gripped them lightly.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
“I’ll be fine. I’m going to see Psion Zhuul.” She replied, still avoiding his gaze.
“Alright. Have her check you out. I’ll come in a moment as well.”
Anastajia departed, her hands in her pockets and her gaze still following the ground.
A few minutes passed since then and the crowd had dispersed. Grand Psion Turgal eventually joined Plume and the young Behrfrang in the garden to assess the situation.
`What in the name of Psion happened here…?` Turgal asked, staring at the now burnt circle of grass and flowers opposite to the statue of Temegal the Wise; the hum of his tendrils now much graver than ever before.
Plume remained silent but nodded to the young Behrfrang.
`It was a human girl, Grand Psion. Anastajia, I believe. She… I don’t know. I believe she attempted actually managed to initiate communion.` he explained.
Turgal’s tendrils curled up and writhed violently.
`Communion? Don’t be ridiculous. An apprentice to initiate a communion? Here? Its unheard of.`
But Plume then replied.
“It’s not impossible. At least not for her, Master.”
Plume stepped forward into the circle and kneeled. He grabbed a fistful of ash, running it through his claws.
“But I never expected this. An affinity for fire.”
Turgal suddenly turned towards the young Behrfrang and latched his tendrils onto his shoulders.
`You. Ebthos, was it?` The young apprentice shook his head affirmatively. `Are you sure she attempted to initiate a communion?`
`I don’t know! It looked like it, at least! I was meditating when I awoke to… to… to that! Whirls of psionic energy! It was like a raging tempest, extending in a circle for several feet around her… Hot… so hot… I thought it would dry out all the moisture in my body.` the young one explained. `Then… the flames… they crackled. It was like there was lightning inside the tempest. She… I don’t know. She looked in pain. She kept pleading for something to stop… By the end of it, a whirl of pure violet energy materialized, and as it materialized, it burned everything within the circle and extinguished itself... It felt like something was going to swallow me whole... then when you appeared, the feeling disappeared.`
`I see… Return to the academy. We’ll come and join the rest of you later. Now go.`
Ebthos nodded and bowed his head to Grand Psion Turgal before turning around immediately for the Academy. Plume let out a deep, heavy sigh while Turgal hummed gravely.
`In the old texts, they talk about the different forms one’s powers can take shape. Strong psionics can use pyrokinesis… electrokinesis… cyrokinesis is not unheard of either. Some of the strongest ones could even use novakinesis, or, manipulate matter itself.`
Plume crossed his arms, somewhat confused at what the Grand Psion was getting at.
`But pyrokinesis could have different scales to intensity. Like normal flames, the hotter the fire, it goes from red… to orange… eventually going as far as reaching blue or white. I'll give you an analogy. Dark energy, the energy produced by harnessing black matter glows green. It’s an infernal heat. And yet, at least one Empire that we know of reached further beyond. Something that noone thought was possible.`
“The Mirati Imperium?”
Turgal nodded.
`Indeed. Somehow, their technology allows their processing of dark energy to produce a blue hue, far more potent than what’s used by the rest of the Galaxy. ‘Alpha Technology’, as they call it.`
“I don’t understand what this has to do with the ancient texts.”
`In the ancient texts, there are tales of psionic warriors producing such pure, virulent energy that it could sometimes physically materialize. We, psionics, see it innately. But a non-psionic would probably never see it coming. Their brains cannot process it in time.` Turgal explained. `Similarly, the power of their energy had different colors… They could not really explain it. They suppose that the extraplanar power of the Shroud itself bends the laws of our reality. Something like that.`
Plume frowned with visible distress. Today, such feats of psionic power are uncommon, though not unheard of. In the Imperium, their Order produces phenomenal psionics, far stronger on average than the Psionic Order. Thankfully, they have appeared to have no interest in waging war upon the galaxy because no one could be able to stop them. Besides them, it was only the Human Empire that produced such psionic monsters.
`Breaching the shroud, the scholars theorized, what if somewhere, even stronger energy can be found? A degree of power that is ever-present in the deepest crevices of the Shroudplane?` Turgal asked, somewhat rhetorically.
“What, do you mean ‘Shroudfire’? The ever-burning purple fire fields of the Shroud? That’s insane, Master.” Plume denied his theory on the spot.
“Surely you’re not suggesting that her psionic powers are so strong that they could materialize Shroudfire. Pyrokinesis, sure, but to such an extent?”
`I’m not suggesting anything. I am merely recounting ancient information. Maybe I’m reading too hard into this.` Turgal shrugged his shoulders `Either way, I’ve changed my mind. She cannot attempt communion inside the Temple. I won’t allow that thing inside the energy nexus.`
Plume visibly tensed as Turgal pondered. He pondered, and pondered, staring in silence at the statue of Temegal.
`She cannot continue her training on Zith.` Plume’s heart sank as the anvil dropped. Turgal continued. `She is a threat to the very safety of the students of this academy, and perhaps all of us.`
Slowly but steadily, the air surrounding the old Grand Psion began to ripple and crackle, materializing a whirl of psionic energy. Plume gulped as he began to visibly shake.
`Perhaps I should nip it in the bud right now.`
However, in a moment, the Vissasi took a step forward, unleashing his own psionic energy.
`Really? You would defy me, my old apprentice?` Turgal spoke out to him softly. ‘You still plead for her given what you have seen? You do know, deep down, that neither of us is equipped to deal with this.`
Plume remained silent and steadfast. A few more moments passed. At this sight, Turgal just gave up, restraining his aura. Plume followed suit, before bowing to his master.
“Thank you… Master Turgal.”
`No. Do not thank me yet. I will offer you a compromise. ` Turgal approached him silently before placing his tendrils on his shoulder. `Seek out Idrithel.`
Plume froze for a second. “Idrithel? Are you sure? She’s returned to Mireesh Mar many years ago. She wanted nothing more to do with the order.”
`If there’s someone who could help her train these powers, it’s her. She’s similar to her, in many ways.`
“But… would she accept?”
`She will. Tell her that I will owe her a favor. Now go, and take the girl with you.`
Plume nodded resolutely and turned around to make his way to the Academy.
`Plume!` Turgal called out to him. `Remember. She was once one of us, but now she is the leader of the Order of Ecclesia. She’s a faithful follower of the Empress. Keep that in mind.`
“I will keep that in mind.” Plume answered, slowly disappearing from his sight.
`You do that… for that’s the only thing you can do.`
Inside the Temple’s infirmary…
“You should be fine now, my dear.” the woman said softly. “It’s merely exhaustion, it’ll pass with some rest.”
Anastajia climbed to her feet, stretching out her arms and legs.
“Thank you, Psion.” she bowed her head. “I already feel better.”
The woman smiled. “Very well then. Go on, git.” and she waved her off.
Anastajia exited into the halls, where Plume was already waiting for her.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Anastajia nodded silently.
“Great.” Plume continued. “Pack up your things, we’re heading to Mireesh Marr.”
“Mireesh Marr?!” she exclaimed. “That’s the capital of the Imperium, isn’t it?” she frowned. “Isn’t that place like, super dangerous? Is it a mission?”
Plume sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“We’re not going on a mission, my dear apprentice.” Plume explained. “We’re going to Idrithrel.”
Anastajia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Idrithrel? Who’s that?”
“Hmm… I’m not surprised you don’t know her. She used to be a Psion.” Plume replied. “Long ago, before I took you in.”
“Used to?” she inquired. “I thought… I thought the Order is like, a permanent sort of deal.”
Well. Not quite. Leaving the order wasn’t entirely uncommon, certainly not in the latest generations. It’s somewhat different for Psions, however. After decades in the Order, those veritable forces of nature wouldn’t be let go so easily to just wander the Galaxy.
Plume grimaced slightly, visibly uncomfortable.
“It’s… complicated. Look. She’s an old friend of the Master Turgal… and she’s probably one of the strongest psionites in the Galaxy. She’s also… like you, Anastajia.”
Anastajia stared down at her hands. “Like me?”
“Sort of. Look. If anyone’s going to be able to help you with your powers, it’s going to be her.” Plume cut her off quickly. “So, coming with?”
Anastajia clenched her fists, a determined look in her eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go… To Mireesh Mar.”
- 1
Best chapter yet. I like how you are telling this story of the troubled apprentice. Sorry to say, I think she is the evil assassin in her vision though.
The only Netetite Psion? Who were these Netetites? Did I miss that? Were they just a mighty empire that fell?
What were the Betrayer's ultimate goals? What would the galaxy look like if he won?
Why is Anastajia so powerful, and why didn't anybody tell her? I liked the foreshadowing of her potential future. Can she avert that, or is her fall into evil inevitable?
Also... Besides them, it was only the Human Empire that produced such psionic monsters. Is that related to our young apprentice? She is human, after all... was she born before the Empire fell?
What were the Betrayer's ultimate goals? What would the galaxy look like if he won?
Why is Anastajia so powerful, and why didn't anybody tell her? I liked the foreshadowing of her potential future. Can she avert that, or is her fall into evil inevitable?
Also... Besides them, it was only the Human Empire that produced such psionic monsters. Is that related to our young apprentice? She is human, after all... was she born before the Empire fell?
Maybe. Maybe not. Visions like these are often misleading... or maybe she'll have an Anakin moment.
No, you did not miss it. I realize that I just namedropped it and refused to elaborate.
Netetites were another one of those ancient empires that were destroyed; I suppose a precursor of sort. Mechanically, a Fallen Empire, but for the sake of the story, it happened before the 'Coalition War'.
Ahtelas's goals weren't really known. A lot of information on the ancient leaders of the Order had either been lost or it is legends, so it should be taken with a grain of salt. However, the story taught to the apprentices on Zith is that Ahtelas was corrupted by the Shroud when seeking greater power. Eventually, he wished to install a theocratic psionic-led regime in the known (at the time) Galaxy. He was allegedly killed.
I think that saying she is 'powerful' is misleading in a sense. Way I look at psionics is very similar to the Jedi/Sith in Star Wars. As far as raw power/potential, it is immense. Why? It's a plot point, so I won't say.; but potential doesn't translate to battlepower, which will be evident not in the next, but the chapter after that.
Why not tell her? Superstition? Fear? Poor judgement by the Order of Psion? Multiple possibilities, really.
As far as the foreshadowing, like I said to @Chac1, visions can be misleading.
She wasn't; not that we know of. Plume found her as a child. But, humans were very strong psionics, so maybe she won the genetic lottery? Or maybe its something more sinister.
- 2
Anastajia: Ch. IV
“I have slain my father, Emperor Vaklan, and seized the Eternal Throne. Your empress commands you. Cease all hostilities."
Kryszorwyn Larian, Empress of the Mirati Imperium
Mireesh Marr. The ancient home of the Imperium and the seat of power of the Mirati civilization. A psigifted civilization of humanoids that closely resemble humans. Unlike humans, the Mirati can naturally live up to six hundred years, though advancements in medical technology has increased their life expectancy to over eight hundred.
Mirati share many physical features to that of the human species, though one of their most characteristic features would be their sharp, elongated ears and natural affinity for the Shroud. Scholars theorize that the Mirati and Humans share a common ancestor, but the two species diverged at some point in history.
While Humans historically produced several strong psionics, those powers are nowhere near as widespread through the wider population. All Miratis have an innate pull towards the Shroud and are extremely sensitive to psionic forces, even if untrained and their powers dormant.
This close connection to the Shroud and long lifespan has allowed them to build the strongest Empire that the Galaxy had ever seen. At the height of the Coalition War, the Mirati entered the war and turned the tide against the rampant Human Empire.
Gifting their knowledge of Dark Matter Technology to the other races, the Coalition ultimately succeeded in driving the Human Empire back to Kni’thokon and set it ablaze.
Colossi the size of planets reigned fire and destruction upon the Star Throne, shattering the station into the abyss. With its destruction, the Human Empire splintered into hundreds of pieces, the planets ultimately absorbed by the larger alien nations.
Rumors appeared that the fiercest royal loyalists retreated into the Dark Space, but it is mere canteena chatter.
Ultimately, Mireesh Marr was acknowledged as the strongest power within the Galaxy. As a result, some elements of the Mirati society called for their emperor, Vaklan Larian, to embark on galactic conquest, and as the galaxy edged towards the fire once again, something unimaginable happened.
On Mireesh Marr, a blazing fast coup d’etat happened, as the daughter of Emperor Larian, Crown-Princess Kryszorwyn Larian, killed her father before the proclamation of war, sparking perhaps the shortest-lived civil war in the history of the Galaxy. Forces of the Praetorian Guard stormed the Imperial palace with the help of the Order of Ecclesia and engaged the Crown-Princess’s forces.
Details are scarce and varied, from people who claim to have seen the events unfold, and information leaked by different intelligence agencies throughout the galaxy; but there is one thing in common. Crown-Princess Kryszorwyn single handedly defeated her father and his guard, before forcefully submitting the rest of the Ecclesian forces. Emperor Larian was, perhaps, the strongest psionic in the Galaxy at that time, and he and his guard were slain by his daughter.
After this incident, Kryszorwyn ascended as Empress and pulled back all Mirati forces to the Imperium’s territories and enacted a policy of peace and diplomacy. This was, of course, all surface value. In reality, the Imperium was slowly established as the galactic hegemon and the de facto leading political authority. Most conflicts are now mediated by the Imperium, and thus galactic wars are extremely rare… and should they get out of control, the Imperium would intervene.
In addition, the Order of Ecclesia was repurposed. It was now directly under the command of the Empress, and they were the tools and limbs with which she operated outside of state diplomacy, and in some cases, the legal framework of the Imperium. It has a far more militaristic outlook on matters; members being trained in combat from a very young age, both in unarmed and in armed combat. Unlike the psionites, who fear the idea of using psionic weapons as it intensifies their connection, and thus their susceptibility to the Shroud, the ecclesians make use of psionic blades and artifacts to enhance their combat abilities. It is an order of warriors, not of peacekeepers.
Scholars, telepaths, warriors, admirals; the Order of Ecclesia trains the most gifted Mirati from birth and prepares them for their duties in the service of the Empress, for she is the true state. She is the Mirati Imperium itself.
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Mireesh Marr
A week has passed since Plume and Anastajia departed from Zith. After rejoining the Galactic Gateway Network and making a few stops for supplies at varying spaceports, the two have finally arrived in Mireesh Marr.
“It’s nothing like I thought it would look like.” The girl remarked. “An eerie duroconcrete cage.”
“They call it a Void Sphere… It’s… think of it as a more advanced ecumenopolis.” Plume explained.
“What exactly makes it more advanced, master?” she asked. “It looks like a haunted ecumenopolis to me.”
Plume chuckled lightly.
“The Mirati are masters at manipulating dark matter. They’ve succeeded in harnessing the powers of black holes and creating something called dark energy.” he continued to explain “I don’t exactly understand the specifics, but it’s par for the course given that they are the ones who have bestowed dark energy reactors upon the galaxy.”
“And they’ve applied it to the world itself?” she asked incredulously.
“Apparently. Everything in their society functions with dark matter. It’s essentially an endless resource.”
“And Idrithrel is… down there? You still haven’t explained to me who she really is, Plume.”
“Turgal’s peer, and one of my former masters.” He replied.
“Your former master?!” Anastajia exclaimed. “I thought Grand Psion Turgal was your master!”
“He was. It’s no understatement to say that he was my master, but it was Idrithrel who asked him to take me in.”
“I don’t understand. Did he take you in when Idrithrel left the Order?”
Plume nodded.
“Idrithrel and Turgal were the candidates for the role of Grand Psion at the time. Both of them, incredibly strong psionics, though between me and you, I think that in a fight, Idrithrel would have wiped the floor with him.” Plume raised one of his claws, motioning the girl to shush, much to her amusement.
“Well, they also had very different ideologies. Turgal believed, and still does, that our powers are only meant for maintaining the peace and self-defense.”
“And she didn’t?” she butted in.
“Idrithrel thought that the Order should take a more proactive approach towards maintaining the peace. Turgal would prefer us to be diplomats, while she would have had us strike down any dangerous upstarts, pirates, the lot.” Plume continued as he engaged the ships autopilot mode. “When it came down to the vote of the Council of Psions, Idrithrel lost, and ultimately chose to leave the Order. No one really knows what caused her abrupt change of heart.”
Plume’s eyes gave a hint of sadness.
“I see…”
It was a long trip down.
A sea of steel and concrete would probably be the most apt description of the planet itself. Skyscrapers dwarfed all the ‘natural’ features present on the surface, be it artificially created mountains or lakes. None of the original features of the planets remained, destroyed to make way for the initial construction of the ecumenopolis.
A series of gigantic orbital mirrors reflected the warmth and light of Mireesh Mar down to the surface of the planet. Huge pipelines traversed the surface to carry water and other liquid substances across the massive cityscape that encases the surface of the planet. Eerie blue smoke and lights permeate the sky, a byproduct of the usage of dark energy on all the levels of the planet.
Upon exiting the spaceport, Anastajia pondered in wonder at the sheer effort it must have taken to create such a technological marvel. She understood from Plume that the city was encased in concrete, but she thought of it as an exaggeration. Looking around her, everything seemed artificial; constructions meant to reproduce at least some of what she thought to be the ‘native’ features of the planet.
“It is truly one of the Galaxy’s greatest wonders, is it not?”
An unknown voice spoke out to her. It was a tall, slender Mirati woman wearing an intricate black robe with golden inlays. Between her movements, the wind exposed a pitch black armor beneath. On her waist dangled a long crimson blade with a pitch-black leather hilt. Her fair features and silky skin would probably make most men fall in love at the mere sight of her.
“You must be Anastajia.” she called out to her as she slowly approached.
Standing face to face, she was probably a head or two taller than her. Anastajia looked up to her and nodded.
‘She must be Idrithrel’ she thought to herself.
Her lips curled into a smile, and she nodded, before switching her gaze towards Plume.
“And you, Plume. You’ve really grown, haven’t you?” she asked, bemused by her former, albeit for a very short time, apprentice. “You look nothing like the hatchling I left in Turgal’s care.”
“I could say the very same of you, Master Idrithrel. You’ve grown far more beautiful and stronger than I remember.”
Amused, Idrithrel shielded her mouth with her hand and let out a quiet laugh.
“Silver-tongued as always.” she noted. “Have you had a safe journey?”
“We have.” Plume replied.
“It’s the safest journey we’ve ever had, if anything. We haven’t seen a single pirate ship within two dozen systems.” Anastajia added.
Idrithrel nodded lightly.
“Our empire prides itself on the safety we ensure our people. Come on then, I’m a busy woman. We’ll talk on the way to Ecclesia. It’s not that far from here.”
And the three of them started to make their way to the temple.
“So how is that old squid doing?” Idrithrel inquired. “Still preaching pacifism and emotional immaturity?”
Anastajia took a quick glance in the direction of her master; his eyebrows furrowed, visibly irked by the woman’s question.
“Master Turgal preaches balance, my lady. Psionites are not warriors, they’re peacekeepers.”
Idrithrel sighed.
“Warriors and peacekeepers are not mutually exclusive, hatchling.” she explained. “And do not dare say to me that his fearful rambles talk of balance. You psionites fear the Shroud.”
Idrithrel shook her head before lowering her shoulders in acceptance. Plume did not give into her provocations and remained silent, though Anastajia could feel a shift in her masters mood.
“So, why do you need me, exactly, Plume?” she asked.
“Anastajia cannot control her powers. Nay… She cannot invoke her powers consciously. At least not the bulk of them.” Plume explained. “She has all the relevant sensibilities; she can feel subtle changes in energy, even has feats of precognition, but she cannot materialize any psionic energy.” He continued. “Not consciously.”
"I'm sorry, Plume, but I fail to see how this concerns me." she replied curtly.
"We need your help... She needs your help." Plume paused. "I'm here to ask you to help her."
Idrithrel exhaled loudly as she cupped her hands behind her back. A few brief moments of silence.
“I’m going to need you to be more specific than that, my dear boy.” Idrithrel replied, a hint of frustration in her words.
Plume sighed, uncomfortable with the girls presence. Anastajia herself remained silent.
“When we retrieved an artifact from the Taufaeans we were attacked by an unknown psionic. We engaged in a brief battle.”
“Ho?” Idrithrel turned around to face him. “Did the great Psion of the Order win?”
Plume scoffed: “It was a draw. That’s not the point.” He replied, much to her annoyance. “He could match me blow for blow; he was a stronger psionic than me, all things considered.”
“But?”
“But I don’t think he wanted to kill me.” Plume clarified. “Instead, it felt like he was more wary of her than me. To my understanding, he even attempted to prod at her mind… but failed.”
“Interesting.”
Plume nodded. “She resisted without even knowing. She described it as—”
“Like a headache”. Anastajia chimed in.
“That.”
“Peculiar. Either your child here is extremely resistant to telepathic attacks, or your assailant was too weak.” Idrithrel pondered. “And you say she never managed to summon any psionic energy?”
“Not that I know of.” Anastajia answered.
Plume sighed. “There was an incident at the Academy, when she unknowingly attempted a communion.”
Idrithrel stopped in her tracks.
“Unknowingly? Are you saying she initiated it by herself?” the woman gravely asked while looking at the young girl. “Has she manifested any other powers?”
Plume remained silent for a few moments before replying.
“Pyrokinesis. Electrokinesis…”
Plume paused for a moment. Idrithrel pressed on however.
“Out with it.”
“Cyrokinesis and telekinesis.”
Idrithrel whistled.
“Is she a gacha character?” she asked.
Plume was unamused.
“I’m more concerned about the extent of her pyrokinetic powers. And so is Master Turgal.”
“In what way?” Idrithrel asked.
“Her flames were… unlike anything we have seen at the Academy in a while. Violet… even dark, purple flames.”
Anastajia looked at the two, somewhat confused by their stern demeanor.
Idrithrel took notice of her reaction and rested her hand on her forehead, exhaling loudly in visible frustration.
“This is part of why I left the Order.” She complained. “Shunning powers like these due to a simple lack of understanding. I’m frankly surprised Turgal even let her off the planet if he’s even thinking of what you're alluding to.”
Anastajia continued to turn her head between the two, visibly confused.
“I will teach you how to draw onto your powers, my dear girl.” Idrithrel solemnly declared. “And if I can’t do that, then I will just force them out of you, one way or another.”
Kryszorwyn Larian, Empress of the Mirati Imperium
Mireesh Marr. The ancient home of the Imperium and the seat of power of the Mirati civilization. A psigifted civilization of humanoids that closely resemble humans. Unlike humans, the Mirati can naturally live up to six hundred years, though advancements in medical technology has increased their life expectancy to over eight hundred.
Mirati share many physical features to that of the human species, though one of their most characteristic features would be their sharp, elongated ears and natural affinity for the Shroud. Scholars theorize that the Mirati and Humans share a common ancestor, but the two species diverged at some point in history.
While Humans historically produced several strong psionics, those powers are nowhere near as widespread through the wider population. All Miratis have an innate pull towards the Shroud and are extremely sensitive to psionic forces, even if untrained and their powers dormant.
This close connection to the Shroud and long lifespan has allowed them to build the strongest Empire that the Galaxy had ever seen. At the height of the Coalition War, the Mirati entered the war and turned the tide against the rampant Human Empire.
Gifting their knowledge of Dark Matter Technology to the other races, the Coalition ultimately succeeded in driving the Human Empire back to Kni’thokon and set it ablaze.
Colossi the size of planets reigned fire and destruction upon the Star Throne, shattering the station into the abyss. With its destruction, the Human Empire splintered into hundreds of pieces, the planets ultimately absorbed by the larger alien nations.
Rumors appeared that the fiercest royal loyalists retreated into the Dark Space, but it is mere canteena chatter.
Ultimately, Mireesh Marr was acknowledged as the strongest power within the Galaxy. As a result, some elements of the Mirati society called for their emperor, Vaklan Larian, to embark on galactic conquest, and as the galaxy edged towards the fire once again, something unimaginable happened.
On Mireesh Marr, a blazing fast coup d’etat happened, as the daughter of Emperor Larian, Crown-Princess Kryszorwyn Larian, killed her father before the proclamation of war, sparking perhaps the shortest-lived civil war in the history of the Galaxy. Forces of the Praetorian Guard stormed the Imperial palace with the help of the Order of Ecclesia and engaged the Crown-Princess’s forces.
Details are scarce and varied, from people who claim to have seen the events unfold, and information leaked by different intelligence agencies throughout the galaxy; but there is one thing in common. Crown-Princess Kryszorwyn single handedly defeated her father and his guard, before forcefully submitting the rest of the Ecclesian forces. Emperor Larian was, perhaps, the strongest psionic in the Galaxy at that time, and he and his guard were slain by his daughter.
After this incident, Kryszorwyn ascended as Empress and pulled back all Mirati forces to the Imperium’s territories and enacted a policy of peace and diplomacy. This was, of course, all surface value. In reality, the Imperium was slowly established as the galactic hegemon and the de facto leading political authority. Most conflicts are now mediated by the Imperium, and thus galactic wars are extremely rare… and should they get out of control, the Imperium would intervene.
In addition, the Order of Ecclesia was repurposed. It was now directly under the command of the Empress, and they were the tools and limbs with which she operated outside of state diplomacy, and in some cases, the legal framework of the Imperium. It has a far more militaristic outlook on matters; members being trained in combat from a very young age, both in unarmed and in armed combat. Unlike the psionites, who fear the idea of using psionic weapons as it intensifies their connection, and thus their susceptibility to the Shroud, the ecclesians make use of psionic blades and artifacts to enhance their combat abilities. It is an order of warriors, not of peacekeepers.
Scholars, telepaths, warriors, admirals; the Order of Ecclesia trains the most gifted Mirati from birth and prepares them for their duties in the service of the Empress, for she is the true state. She is the Mirati Imperium itself.
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Mireesh Marr
A week has passed since Plume and Anastajia departed from Zith. After rejoining the Galactic Gateway Network and making a few stops for supplies at varying spaceports, the two have finally arrived in Mireesh Marr.
“It’s nothing like I thought it would look like.” The girl remarked. “An eerie duroconcrete cage.”
“They call it a Void Sphere… It’s… think of it as a more advanced ecumenopolis.” Plume explained.
“What exactly makes it more advanced, master?” she asked. “It looks like a haunted ecumenopolis to me.”
Plume chuckled lightly.
“The Mirati are masters at manipulating dark matter. They’ve succeeded in harnessing the powers of black holes and creating something called dark energy.” he continued to explain “I don’t exactly understand the specifics, but it’s par for the course given that they are the ones who have bestowed dark energy reactors upon the galaxy.”
“And they’ve applied it to the world itself?” she asked incredulously.
“Apparently. Everything in their society functions with dark matter. It’s essentially an endless resource.”
“And Idrithrel is… down there? You still haven’t explained to me who she really is, Plume.”
“Turgal’s peer, and one of my former masters.” He replied.
“Your former master?!” Anastajia exclaimed. “I thought Grand Psion Turgal was your master!”
“He was. It’s no understatement to say that he was my master, but it was Idrithrel who asked him to take me in.”
“I don’t understand. Did he take you in when Idrithrel left the Order?”
Plume nodded.
“Idrithrel and Turgal were the candidates for the role of Grand Psion at the time. Both of them, incredibly strong psionics, though between me and you, I think that in a fight, Idrithrel would have wiped the floor with him.” Plume raised one of his claws, motioning the girl to shush, much to her amusement.
“Well, they also had very different ideologies. Turgal believed, and still does, that our powers are only meant for maintaining the peace and self-defense.”
“And she didn’t?” she butted in.
“Idrithrel thought that the Order should take a more proactive approach towards maintaining the peace. Turgal would prefer us to be diplomats, while she would have had us strike down any dangerous upstarts, pirates, the lot.” Plume continued as he engaged the ships autopilot mode. “When it came down to the vote of the Council of Psions, Idrithrel lost, and ultimately chose to leave the Order. No one really knows what caused her abrupt change of heart.”
Plume’s eyes gave a hint of sadness.
“I see…”
It was a long trip down.
A sea of steel and concrete would probably be the most apt description of the planet itself. Skyscrapers dwarfed all the ‘natural’ features present on the surface, be it artificially created mountains or lakes. None of the original features of the planets remained, destroyed to make way for the initial construction of the ecumenopolis.
A series of gigantic orbital mirrors reflected the warmth and light of Mireesh Mar down to the surface of the planet. Huge pipelines traversed the surface to carry water and other liquid substances across the massive cityscape that encases the surface of the planet. Eerie blue smoke and lights permeate the sky, a byproduct of the usage of dark energy on all the levels of the planet.
Upon exiting the spaceport, Anastajia pondered in wonder at the sheer effort it must have taken to create such a technological marvel. She understood from Plume that the city was encased in concrete, but she thought of it as an exaggeration. Looking around her, everything seemed artificial; constructions meant to reproduce at least some of what she thought to be the ‘native’ features of the planet.
“It is truly one of the Galaxy’s greatest wonders, is it not?”
An unknown voice spoke out to her. It was a tall, slender Mirati woman wearing an intricate black robe with golden inlays. Between her movements, the wind exposed a pitch black armor beneath. On her waist dangled a long crimson blade with a pitch-black leather hilt. Her fair features and silky skin would probably make most men fall in love at the mere sight of her.
“You must be Anastajia.” she called out to her as she slowly approached.
Standing face to face, she was probably a head or two taller than her. Anastajia looked up to her and nodded.
‘She must be Idrithrel’ she thought to herself.
Her lips curled into a smile, and she nodded, before switching her gaze towards Plume.
“And you, Plume. You’ve really grown, haven’t you?” she asked, bemused by her former, albeit for a very short time, apprentice. “You look nothing like the hatchling I left in Turgal’s care.”
“I could say the very same of you, Master Idrithrel. You’ve grown far more beautiful and stronger than I remember.”
Amused, Idrithrel shielded her mouth with her hand and let out a quiet laugh.
“Silver-tongued as always.” she noted. “Have you had a safe journey?”
“We have.” Plume replied.
“It’s the safest journey we’ve ever had, if anything. We haven’t seen a single pirate ship within two dozen systems.” Anastajia added.
Idrithrel nodded lightly.
“Our empire prides itself on the safety we ensure our people. Come on then, I’m a busy woman. We’ll talk on the way to Ecclesia. It’s not that far from here.”
And the three of them started to make their way to the temple.
“So how is that old squid doing?” Idrithrel inquired. “Still preaching pacifism and emotional immaturity?”
Anastajia took a quick glance in the direction of her master; his eyebrows furrowed, visibly irked by the woman’s question.
“Master Turgal preaches balance, my lady. Psionites are not warriors, they’re peacekeepers.”
Idrithrel sighed.
“Warriors and peacekeepers are not mutually exclusive, hatchling.” she explained. “And do not dare say to me that his fearful rambles talk of balance. You psionites fear the Shroud.”
Idrithrel shook her head before lowering her shoulders in acceptance. Plume did not give into her provocations and remained silent, though Anastajia could feel a shift in her masters mood.
“So, why do you need me, exactly, Plume?” she asked.
“Anastajia cannot control her powers. Nay… She cannot invoke her powers consciously. At least not the bulk of them.” Plume explained. “She has all the relevant sensibilities; she can feel subtle changes in energy, even has feats of precognition, but she cannot materialize any psionic energy.” He continued. “Not consciously.”
"I'm sorry, Plume, but I fail to see how this concerns me." she replied curtly.
"We need your help... She needs your help." Plume paused. "I'm here to ask you to help her."
Idrithrel exhaled loudly as she cupped her hands behind her back. A few brief moments of silence.
“I’m going to need you to be more specific than that, my dear boy.” Idrithrel replied, a hint of frustration in her words.
Plume sighed, uncomfortable with the girls presence. Anastajia herself remained silent.
“When we retrieved an artifact from the Taufaeans we were attacked by an unknown psionic. We engaged in a brief battle.”
“Ho?” Idrithrel turned around to face him. “Did the great Psion of the Order win?”
Plume scoffed: “It was a draw. That’s not the point.” He replied, much to her annoyance. “He could match me blow for blow; he was a stronger psionic than me, all things considered.”
“But?”
“But I don’t think he wanted to kill me.” Plume clarified. “Instead, it felt like he was more wary of her than me. To my understanding, he even attempted to prod at her mind… but failed.”
“Interesting.”
Plume nodded. “She resisted without even knowing. She described it as—”
“Like a headache”. Anastajia chimed in.
“That.”
“Peculiar. Either your child here is extremely resistant to telepathic attacks, or your assailant was too weak.” Idrithrel pondered. “And you say she never managed to summon any psionic energy?”
“Not that I know of.” Anastajia answered.
Plume sighed. “There was an incident at the Academy, when she unknowingly attempted a communion.”
Idrithrel stopped in her tracks.
“Unknowingly? Are you saying she initiated it by herself?” the woman gravely asked while looking at the young girl. “Has she manifested any other powers?”
Plume remained silent for a few moments before replying.
“Pyrokinesis. Electrokinesis…”
Plume paused for a moment. Idrithrel pressed on however.
“Out with it.”
“Cyrokinesis and telekinesis.”
Idrithrel whistled.
“Is she a gacha character?” she asked.
Plume was unamused.
“I’m more concerned about the extent of her pyrokinetic powers. And so is Master Turgal.”
“In what way?” Idrithrel asked.
“Her flames were… unlike anything we have seen at the Academy in a while. Violet… even dark, purple flames.”
Anastajia looked at the two, somewhat confused by their stern demeanor.
Idrithrel took notice of her reaction and rested her hand on her forehead, exhaling loudly in visible frustration.
“This is part of why I left the Order.” She complained. “Shunning powers like these due to a simple lack of understanding. I’m frankly surprised Turgal even let her off the planet if he’s even thinking of what you're alluding to.”
Anastajia continued to turn her head between the two, visibly confused.
“I will teach you how to draw onto your powers, my dear girl.” Idrithrel solemnly declared. “And if I can’t do that, then I will just force them out of you, one way or another.”
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- 2
And so Anastajia indeed finds a new teacher. I like how this chapter helps describe your galaxy. This story arc continues to draw me into this AAR with great interest.
That explains why the Mirati didn't take over the galaxy by force. Why didn't Kryszorwyn attempt to convince her father to follow her path before assassinating him? Was it just a desire for the throne?
Idrithrel seems like a better teacher for Anastajia, although her species might be an issue. What will the other Mirati think of this... arrangement?
Idrithrel seems like a better teacher for Anastajia, although her species might be an issue. What will the other Mirati think of this... arrangement?
Thank you.
Well... maybe she did. We will be exploring Kryszorwyn as a character later in the AAR, so maybe it'll be clarified.
I'm sure that there will be some unhappy people about this, but ultimately, if she proves to be strong enough to join them, who's going to dissent?
- 1
Anastajia: Ch. V
“Ours is the power of the Shroud Gods themselves. As we deepen our connection with the Shroud, our powers grow... Let this be a lesson to all of you. Denying the Shroud does nothing but weaken you."
Ahtelas, Grand Psion of the Old Psionic Order
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Mireesh Marr
Temple of Ecclesia; the home of the Order with the same name; the strongest order of psionics within the known galaxy.
A massive structure that soared over a kilometer beyond any of the surrounding rooftops that held the shape of a ziggurat. A place where the finest psionics within the Imperium trained to serve the Empress Kryszorwyn Larian and the rest of the Imperial family.
Deep within the structure lays the central spire, a towering construction built on top of an ancient nexus of psionic energy, said to date back to the first King of Miresh, over a hundred thousand years back.
The Ziggurat itself was separated from the rest of the city by an array of xentronium statues depicting the ancient psionic kings of the planet, as well as the more recent members of the Imperial family; the late Emperor Vaklan Larian and his daughter, the current Empress Kryszorwyn Larian. Both had been trained at the very same Ziggurat and both are said to have held immense psionic powers.
Empress Kryszorwyn had been trained by Idrithrel herself a hundred years ago and is said to have already bested her former master by her fiftieth birthday, asserting her position as perhaps the strongest psionic since ancient times.
Beyond her and her father’s statue lays the only entrance to the immense complex surrounding the Ziggurat. An immense gate built out of hard-light materials, a special alloy created by imbuing neutronium with dark energy; on each side, a xentronium pylon with golden inlays, a symbol of the prestige and wealth of the institution.
It has been a few days since Anastajia and Plume had arrived at the Temple. Despite Idrithrel’s best efforts, she had been unable to help the girl draw out her true powers. Traditional training methods did not bear fruit, and the frustration of the Mirati Grand Executor grew larger by the day. It was clear that radical action needed to be taken in order to overcome the mental barrier inside Anastajia.
“Stop fearing your powers, Anastajia!” Idrithrel shouted to the girl as she unleashed two psionic blasts in her direction. “Everytime you manage to channel any speck of psionic energy, you just shut down.”
Anastajia skillfully avoided the two blasts before trying to gather a whirl of psionic energy in her hands. The ground rumbled violently for a moment, but she was ultimately unable to summon her powers, the energy dissipating into her surroundings.
Idrithrel noticed this failure and pressed on with her attack, unleashing an unescapable flurry of blasts, sending the girl crashing into the training chamber’s wall.
“Gahk.” she cried out in pain as she collapsed to the ground.
“You’re being sent flying and crashing everywhere, but you’re still afraid of defending yourself. Are you afraid of harming me?” Idrithrel groaned out in frustration and approached the young girl, gathering energy at the tip of her hands.
Anastajia looked up at the woman towering above her and wiped the sweat and blood off her forehead, materializing a thin red shield of psionic energy as she braced for her instructor’s onslaught.
Left, right, left, right; Idrithrel began pounding at the girls shield, psionic energy violently dispersing into their surroundings as their two powers collided.
“That’s it. Finally, I see you summoning a shield! Use your powers you damned idiot!” she screamed. “Your body is channeling the energy in order to preserve itself! And yet you dismiss it!” she exclaimed before ultimately breaking the thin shield and kicking the girl.
Anastajia was sent flying towards the other side of the chamber, crashing through the decorative pylons. Debris and sharp shards of marble flew everywhere, slashing through her armor.
Her world was spinning. That last blow almost knocked her out cold. Her entire body ached as she stared at Idrithrel closing the distance between the two once again.
“From the first day... I told you that if I have to then I’ll beat your powers out of you.” she said. “Are you a damn masochist? How much longer do you want this to take?” she asked, before summoning a whirlwind of crimson psionic energy around her right arm.
Idrithrel bent forward, grabbing the girl by throat and threw her into the air, unleashing the blast of raw energy square into her center mass. Anastajia gasped for air as her back crashed against the wall, trapping her body in the rubble.
“It’s enough! Enough! You're going to kill her!”
Plume rushed forward to the girl as he screamed out to his former master.
“She won’t be able to take any more. It’s enough. You can’t pull her powers out like that!”
Plume was visibly distraught, the intensity of his aura fluctuating wildly. Idrithrel looked at him with a mix of disappointment and frustration before explaining:
“If her powers won’t come out due to her fears, then it will have to come out due to the body’s instinct for self-preservation.” Idrithrel sighed. “Your girl here is extremely resilient. I’ll give you that; whatever you’ve done to train her, you’ve done extremely well.”
“I won’t let you harm her any further, Idrithrel. This isn't working. Just look at her!”
“Plume…” Idrithrel exasperated. “You are the one who came to me for help, because whatever you and your Order did until now did not work. I understand that we have conflicting ideologies, but even you are aware of the basic principles behind psionic manifestation. Pain. Intense emotion. Fear. It's evident that something is holding her back. I don't know what it is, but that 'lid' needs to be blown off.”
Plume shook his head and spread his wings wide, assuming a combat stance. Idrithrel chuckled under her breath at her former apprentice’s commitment. Anastajia grumbled in pain while staring at Plume.
Idrithrel rubbed her chin softly before visibly grinning and stretching her shoulders.
“You know what, Plume? Fine. We’ll do it this way.”
Plume furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you—” but Idrithrel disappeared from his sight. Plume immediately surrounded himself with his wings to protect himself and materialized a psionic shield around him. Within a fraction of a second, Idrithrel sent him flying into the air.
A large psionic bolt rippled through the air following him immediately.
“You want to fight her battles forever? Fine then!” she roared out before launching herself into the air.
Plume immediately bounced off the roof and went flying straight into Idrithrel, striking her in the chest and sending her into the floor. An immense dust cloud gathered around the point of impact just as he had lowered himself to ground level.
Within the cloud of dust, Idrithrel’s shadow appeared, the old master flicking any pieces of debris off her clothes. It didn’t look like she had taken any physical damage, but her robes were tattered; she dropped them to reveal the violet armor beneath.
“Please stop this immediately, Idrithrel. I don’t want to continue fighting you.” Plume declared.
Idrithrel shook her head lightly. “Maybe you don't…” as she lunged forward. “But you’ll have to!”
Plume grit his beak and struck her down, but just as his claws made contact, her shape dispersed into a cloud of psionic residue.
“So long as you fight her battles for her, you will have to fight! Me!”
She struck him violently with a fully charged psionic blast into the gut from point blank range. Plume guffawed as he was launched into the air.
“And if it’s not me… It will be Turgal. It will be an Executioner from Eclessia or maybe Kalealise… Maybe it’ll even be some random shroud cultist smelling blood!”
Idrithrel pressed on, unrelenting. In a mere moment, she closed the distance between them, jumping above him and blasting him into the ground and trapping him beneath the rubble.
"Do you know what this galaxy does to psionics that go out of control? It puts them down! Like rabid animals!"
Plume tethered in and out of consciousness as Idrithrel slowly approached him.
“Is this the extent of today’s Psions, Plume? I am thoroughly disappointed.” she goaded him. “What sort of bullshit is Turgal training you in? Behrfrangi literature and calligraphy? Hardly could even call this a fight. Psions call themselves warrior-scholars, but I only see the scholar.”
Plume’s vision was hazy at best. Intense pain rang through his head, causing his body to go limp. The last thing he could see was his former master drawing out her crimson sword.
Anastajia watched in horror as Idrithrel brutally wasted her master. Her entire body cried out in pain as she tried to free herself from the rubble.
‘Please stop!’ she cried out as she watched Idrithrel send Plume deep into the pile of rubble. Slowly and steadily, the Mirati woman approached, eventually towering above him. She could see Idrithrel say something to him, but she could not hear her; that last strike must have blown out one of her eardrums. She felt terribly out of balance.
As Idrithrel reached towards her crimson sword, Anastajia’s pulse rose rapidly, violently struggling to free herself from the rubble.
‘I’m coming! Master! Plume! No!’ but Idrithrel unsheathed her crimson sword. ‘NO! NO! NO!’
She could not move. She could not do anything.
Once again, she would fail.
Plume will die because of her.
A single whisper echoed in her mind before everything faded to the black.
“Do you wish to save him?”
‘I didn’t really think I’d have to go this far.’ Idrithrel thought to herself. ‘I dispatched him with more ease than I would’ve thought. Turgal has truly weakened the Psionic Order.’
Really, she was initially going to beat some more sense into Anastajia first, but her former apprentice decided to intervene Anastajia was extremely resilient, even if neither her nor her master realized it. It's probably something to do with her innate powers. But, it was an opportune moment to see what sort of man Plume became. When she first picked him up on Viss, he was an extremely shy hatchling, always hiding behind her.
She didn’t really mean any of her insults. Deep down, she really did care about him. Given his weaker affinity to the Shroud, it’s a wonder that he made it this far. Vissari aren’t strong psionics, they never have been. And yet, he made it as far as a Psion of the Order. However, she could never shake the thought of what he could’ve been if she was allowed to train him.
Anastajia, on the other hand, was different. She spent days trying to teach her how to channel her psionic powers but no matter the approach, it never worked. By now, she was too old to really learn how to use her powers through conventional means. Years in the temple, and this is all they could have achieved. It was a pure disservice to this girl. Almost two decades of training, and they could barely teach her how to control the most basic psionic abilities.
She thought to herself of how Turgal is just as ruthless as her. For the current members of the Psionic Order, Turgal may appear a sage, but this is the man who cunningly took control of the Order. If push came to shove, he would remove any threat to the Order itself. Fact that this girl lived so long without being able to control her abilities is a testament to the lengths Plume went to ensure her safety.
Oh Anastajia. If normal training will not work, then perhaps extreme emotional distress might work. Idrithrel was confident she could subdue any psionic outburst if push come to shove. She was, after all, one of the strongest psionics in the galaxy, and no matter the girl’s raw potential, she would be unable to beat her. She was the leader of the Order of Ecclesia, an untrained psionic could never hold a candle to her, even if in a rampage.
Idrithrel drew her blade and set herself above her former apprentice. She could feel that the girl’s aura began to change violently. It was intense, but it was just that, intensity. Psionic energy responds to intense emotions. It was no rampage yet; she would’ve broken free from the rubble if it was.
She turned towards the girl, watching her struggle desperately to free herself from her stony prison. With the flick of her wrist, she turned her blade’s tip to the ground, holding her blade in a reverse grip.
‘Almost there…’
Idrithrel mocked the girl, before bringing the blade towards Plume’s throat in a single, swift, moment… or so she intended, as a raging psionic tempest shot towards her from the other side of the chamber. It was close, but the masterful Idrithrel dodged it gracefully. With a quick glance, she identified the source of the blast. It was the girl, finally having freed herself.
A rampaging, violet psionic storm surrounded her. Her immediate surroundings were being distorted by the powers as they slowly stabilized, a purple hue giving Anastajia an eerie contour. Her eyes were now glowing a brilliant violet.
Idrithrel tilted her head to the side, somewhat stunned by the scene.
‘I see. So, this is what Plume meant.’ She thought to herself.
A small bead of sweat dripped down her forehead, before being noticed by Idrithrel.
‘I’m… sweating?’ she asked herself, while staring at the girl.
Anastajia readied herself, the psionic energy around her growing larger by the moment. What was before a peaceful contour expanded in all directions, before once again dimming. Like a flame in the wind, the psionic energies surrounding her were scattering in all directions. What was previously a tempest turned into a whirlwind surrounding her entire body.
“That is truly a nice aura you have there, my dear girl. I have to say…” Idrithrel pointed down at Plume. “You really made me work for it, didn’t you?”
Taking a few steps to the side, Idrithrel readied her blade and assumed a combative stance.
Anastajia did not respond, instead just taking a few steps forward towards Idrithrel. As she did so, her wounds slowly started healing.
‘Hyper regeneration? When Plume said she’s a bottomless pit of psionic energy, he really meant it.’
Psionic hyper regeneration was an ability that allowed the user to expend their psionic energy to stabilize and even heal wounds. A very strong psionic is generally hard to kill for this simple reason, they can internally stabilize fatal wounds. But it is an extremely costly ability, and a last resort. Most psionics cannot afford the energy consumption needed to maintain this for a prolonged time or an extensive list of wounds like hers.
‘Hmm…’ Idrithrel thought to herself as she channeled some psionic energy into the tip of her blade, before slashing the air horizontally to unleash a psionic cut in her direction. Much to her immediate surprise, the girl swatted away the blast, diverting it towards the wall, causing part of it to blow out.
“Hmm?” Idrithrel was surprised. “Very well! Come on, Anastajia! Show me more!” unleashing another flurry of slashes from distance.
In that moment, Anastajia’s visage flickered, parrying the cuts one by one, then lunging forward as she enveloped her legs with psionic energy. Idrithrel parried her blow, furrowing her brows for a moment, before sending the young girl flying back on her feet. A sense of dread enveloped Idrithrel.
‘Is my mind playing games?’ she thought to herself. ‘There’s no way—”
But Anastajia lunged forward once again, striking her with her fists. With each parried strike, the intensity and speed of her attacks increased, causing Idrithrel to put some distance between the two and unleash a devastating psionic blast into her direction.
Anastajia caught the brunt of the attack, being sent flying through one of the pillars.
“Huff.”
Idrithrel took a moment to compose herself.
“This must be a sick joke, Plume. What the hell did you find? Where did you even find this kid?” she audibly asked herself. In the next moment, a loud whistle rang through the air.
‘Huh? I’m upside down?’ she asked herself, before crashing into a pile of rubble.
Anastajia managed to get a solid strike in, sending Idrithrel flying through the hall and into a pile of rubble. By now, several alarms were blaring loudly throughout the temple, and temple guards poured into the halls themselves.
“Grand Executor!” one of the temple guards called out. “What the hell is going on?!”
“Just—” she grunted as she pulled herself out of the rubble “training my new apprentice, dear. How about you? Are you doing fine?” she grinned.
“Grand Executor, this isn’t funny! We’re in the Ziggurat!” he responded angrily. “Not even you can act with such disregard in here!” he retorted.
“I’ll make sure to read your letter of complaint before I throw it in the bin.” she shrugged “For now, make sure you stay out of my way. Don’t even try engaging her.”
“I’ll remind you that—” but he was immediately cut off by her harsh response.
“No. I will remind you who the Grand Executor is. You will follow my orders, or I will personally relieve you of your duties, captain. Now obey.”
Though visibly displeased, the captain was clearly uncomfortable. He adjusted his collar before quickly replying. “By your command…” and slowly retreated with his men. “We’re going to escort any other students or faculty from the area. Let’s go.”
Idrithrel smiled ominously at the captain as she watched him leave, before refocusing on Anastajia.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, dear. I can see that you’ve been holding that attack in while the guards evacuated.” she raised her chin at the large bolt of flaming, purple psionic energy gathering between her hands “It would seem, that to an extent, even in this state, you retain some awareness.”
Idrithrel sighed softly before raising her crimson blade, enveloping it in thick psionic energy.
“You are still a few hundred years too young to beat me.”
With a downwards motion, Idrithrel unleashed a blinding light.
Ahtelas, Grand Psion of the Old Psionic Order
Anastajia
Order of Psion
Mireesh Marr
Temple of Ecclesia; the home of the Order with the same name; the strongest order of psionics within the known galaxy.
A massive structure that soared over a kilometer beyond any of the surrounding rooftops that held the shape of a ziggurat. A place where the finest psionics within the Imperium trained to serve the Empress Kryszorwyn Larian and the rest of the Imperial family.
Deep within the structure lays the central spire, a towering construction built on top of an ancient nexus of psionic energy, said to date back to the first King of Miresh, over a hundred thousand years back.
The Ziggurat itself was separated from the rest of the city by an array of xentronium statues depicting the ancient psionic kings of the planet, as well as the more recent members of the Imperial family; the late Emperor Vaklan Larian and his daughter, the current Empress Kryszorwyn Larian. Both had been trained at the very same Ziggurat and both are said to have held immense psionic powers.
Empress Kryszorwyn had been trained by Idrithrel herself a hundred years ago and is said to have already bested her former master by her fiftieth birthday, asserting her position as perhaps the strongest psionic since ancient times.
Beyond her and her father’s statue lays the only entrance to the immense complex surrounding the Ziggurat. An immense gate built out of hard-light materials, a special alloy created by imbuing neutronium with dark energy; on each side, a xentronium pylon with golden inlays, a symbol of the prestige and wealth of the institution.
It has been a few days since Anastajia and Plume had arrived at the Temple. Despite Idrithrel’s best efforts, she had been unable to help the girl draw out her true powers. Traditional training methods did not bear fruit, and the frustration of the Mirati Grand Executor grew larger by the day. It was clear that radical action needed to be taken in order to overcome the mental barrier inside Anastajia.
“Stop fearing your powers, Anastajia!” Idrithrel shouted to the girl as she unleashed two psionic blasts in her direction. “Everytime you manage to channel any speck of psionic energy, you just shut down.”
Anastajia skillfully avoided the two blasts before trying to gather a whirl of psionic energy in her hands. The ground rumbled violently for a moment, but she was ultimately unable to summon her powers, the energy dissipating into her surroundings.
Idrithrel noticed this failure and pressed on with her attack, unleashing an unescapable flurry of blasts, sending the girl crashing into the training chamber’s wall.
“Gahk.” she cried out in pain as she collapsed to the ground.
“You’re being sent flying and crashing everywhere, but you’re still afraid of defending yourself. Are you afraid of harming me?” Idrithrel groaned out in frustration and approached the young girl, gathering energy at the tip of her hands.
Anastajia looked up at the woman towering above her and wiped the sweat and blood off her forehead, materializing a thin red shield of psionic energy as she braced for her instructor’s onslaught.
Left, right, left, right; Idrithrel began pounding at the girls shield, psionic energy violently dispersing into their surroundings as their two powers collided.
“That’s it. Finally, I see you summoning a shield! Use your powers you damned idiot!” she screamed. “Your body is channeling the energy in order to preserve itself! And yet you dismiss it!” she exclaimed before ultimately breaking the thin shield and kicking the girl.
Anastajia was sent flying towards the other side of the chamber, crashing through the decorative pylons. Debris and sharp shards of marble flew everywhere, slashing through her armor.
Her world was spinning. That last blow almost knocked her out cold. Her entire body ached as she stared at Idrithrel closing the distance between the two once again.
“From the first day... I told you that if I have to then I’ll beat your powers out of you.” she said. “Are you a damn masochist? How much longer do you want this to take?” she asked, before summoning a whirlwind of crimson psionic energy around her right arm.
Idrithrel bent forward, grabbing the girl by throat and threw her into the air, unleashing the blast of raw energy square into her center mass. Anastajia gasped for air as her back crashed against the wall, trapping her body in the rubble.
“It’s enough! Enough! You're going to kill her!”
Plume rushed forward to the girl as he screamed out to his former master.
“She won’t be able to take any more. It’s enough. You can’t pull her powers out like that!”
Plume was visibly distraught, the intensity of his aura fluctuating wildly. Idrithrel looked at him with a mix of disappointment and frustration before explaining:
“If her powers won’t come out due to her fears, then it will have to come out due to the body’s instinct for self-preservation.” Idrithrel sighed. “Your girl here is extremely resilient. I’ll give you that; whatever you’ve done to train her, you’ve done extremely well.”
“I won’t let you harm her any further, Idrithrel. This isn't working. Just look at her!”
“Plume…” Idrithrel exasperated. “You are the one who came to me for help, because whatever you and your Order did until now did not work. I understand that we have conflicting ideologies, but even you are aware of the basic principles behind psionic manifestation. Pain. Intense emotion. Fear. It's evident that something is holding her back. I don't know what it is, but that 'lid' needs to be blown off.”
Plume shook his head and spread his wings wide, assuming a combat stance. Idrithrel chuckled under her breath at her former apprentice’s commitment. Anastajia grumbled in pain while staring at Plume.
Idrithrel rubbed her chin softly before visibly grinning and stretching her shoulders.
“You know what, Plume? Fine. We’ll do it this way.”
Plume furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you—” but Idrithrel disappeared from his sight. Plume immediately surrounded himself with his wings to protect himself and materialized a psionic shield around him. Within a fraction of a second, Idrithrel sent him flying into the air.
A large psionic bolt rippled through the air following him immediately.
“You want to fight her battles forever? Fine then!” she roared out before launching herself into the air.
Plume immediately bounced off the roof and went flying straight into Idrithrel, striking her in the chest and sending her into the floor. An immense dust cloud gathered around the point of impact just as he had lowered himself to ground level.
Within the cloud of dust, Idrithrel’s shadow appeared, the old master flicking any pieces of debris off her clothes. It didn’t look like she had taken any physical damage, but her robes were tattered; she dropped them to reveal the violet armor beneath.
“Please stop this immediately, Idrithrel. I don’t want to continue fighting you.” Plume declared.
Idrithrel shook her head lightly. “Maybe you don't…” as she lunged forward. “But you’ll have to!”
Plume grit his beak and struck her down, but just as his claws made contact, her shape dispersed into a cloud of psionic residue.
“So long as you fight her battles for her, you will have to fight! Me!”
She struck him violently with a fully charged psionic blast into the gut from point blank range. Plume guffawed as he was launched into the air.
“And if it’s not me… It will be Turgal. It will be an Executioner from Eclessia or maybe Kalealise… Maybe it’ll even be some random shroud cultist smelling blood!”
Idrithrel pressed on, unrelenting. In a mere moment, she closed the distance between them, jumping above him and blasting him into the ground and trapping him beneath the rubble.
"Do you know what this galaxy does to psionics that go out of control? It puts them down! Like rabid animals!"
Plume tethered in and out of consciousness as Idrithrel slowly approached him.
“Is this the extent of today’s Psions, Plume? I am thoroughly disappointed.” she goaded him. “What sort of bullshit is Turgal training you in? Behrfrangi literature and calligraphy? Hardly could even call this a fight. Psions call themselves warrior-scholars, but I only see the scholar.”
Plume’s vision was hazy at best. Intense pain rang through his head, causing his body to go limp. The last thing he could see was his former master drawing out her crimson sword.
Anastajia watched in horror as Idrithrel brutally wasted her master. Her entire body cried out in pain as she tried to free herself from the rubble.
‘Please stop!’ she cried out as she watched Idrithrel send Plume deep into the pile of rubble. Slowly and steadily, the Mirati woman approached, eventually towering above him. She could see Idrithrel say something to him, but she could not hear her; that last strike must have blown out one of her eardrums. She felt terribly out of balance.
As Idrithrel reached towards her crimson sword, Anastajia’s pulse rose rapidly, violently struggling to free herself from the rubble.
‘I’m coming! Master! Plume! No!’ but Idrithrel unsheathed her crimson sword. ‘NO! NO! NO!’
She could not move. She could not do anything.
Once again, she would fail.
Plume will die because of her.
A single whisper echoed in her mind before everything faded to the black.
“Do you wish to save him?”
‘I didn’t really think I’d have to go this far.’ Idrithrel thought to herself. ‘I dispatched him with more ease than I would’ve thought. Turgal has truly weakened the Psionic Order.’
Really, she was initially going to beat some more sense into Anastajia first, but her former apprentice decided to intervene Anastajia was extremely resilient, even if neither her nor her master realized it. It's probably something to do with her innate powers. But, it was an opportune moment to see what sort of man Plume became. When she first picked him up on Viss, he was an extremely shy hatchling, always hiding behind her.
She didn’t really mean any of her insults. Deep down, she really did care about him. Given his weaker affinity to the Shroud, it’s a wonder that he made it this far. Vissari aren’t strong psionics, they never have been. And yet, he made it as far as a Psion of the Order. However, she could never shake the thought of what he could’ve been if she was allowed to train him.
Anastajia, on the other hand, was different. She spent days trying to teach her how to channel her psionic powers but no matter the approach, it never worked. By now, she was too old to really learn how to use her powers through conventional means. Years in the temple, and this is all they could have achieved. It was a pure disservice to this girl. Almost two decades of training, and they could barely teach her how to control the most basic psionic abilities.
She thought to herself of how Turgal is just as ruthless as her. For the current members of the Psionic Order, Turgal may appear a sage, but this is the man who cunningly took control of the Order. If push came to shove, he would remove any threat to the Order itself. Fact that this girl lived so long without being able to control her abilities is a testament to the lengths Plume went to ensure her safety.
Oh Anastajia. If normal training will not work, then perhaps extreme emotional distress might work. Idrithrel was confident she could subdue any psionic outburst if push come to shove. She was, after all, one of the strongest psionics in the galaxy, and no matter the girl’s raw potential, she would be unable to beat her. She was the leader of the Order of Ecclesia, an untrained psionic could never hold a candle to her, even if in a rampage.
Idrithrel drew her blade and set herself above her former apprentice. She could feel that the girl’s aura began to change violently. It was intense, but it was just that, intensity. Psionic energy responds to intense emotions. It was no rampage yet; she would’ve broken free from the rubble if it was.
She turned towards the girl, watching her struggle desperately to free herself from her stony prison. With the flick of her wrist, she turned her blade’s tip to the ground, holding her blade in a reverse grip.
‘Almost there…’
Idrithrel mocked the girl, before bringing the blade towards Plume’s throat in a single, swift, moment… or so she intended, as a raging psionic tempest shot towards her from the other side of the chamber. It was close, but the masterful Idrithrel dodged it gracefully. With a quick glance, she identified the source of the blast. It was the girl, finally having freed herself.
A rampaging, violet psionic storm surrounded her. Her immediate surroundings were being distorted by the powers as they slowly stabilized, a purple hue giving Anastajia an eerie contour. Her eyes were now glowing a brilliant violet.
Idrithrel tilted her head to the side, somewhat stunned by the scene.
‘I see. So, this is what Plume meant.’ She thought to herself.
A small bead of sweat dripped down her forehead, before being noticed by Idrithrel.
‘I’m… sweating?’ she asked herself, while staring at the girl.
Anastajia readied herself, the psionic energy around her growing larger by the moment. What was before a peaceful contour expanded in all directions, before once again dimming. Like a flame in the wind, the psionic energies surrounding her were scattering in all directions. What was previously a tempest turned into a whirlwind surrounding her entire body.
“That is truly a nice aura you have there, my dear girl. I have to say…” Idrithrel pointed down at Plume. “You really made me work for it, didn’t you?”
Taking a few steps to the side, Idrithrel readied her blade and assumed a combative stance.
Anastajia did not respond, instead just taking a few steps forward towards Idrithrel. As she did so, her wounds slowly started healing.
‘Hyper regeneration? When Plume said she’s a bottomless pit of psionic energy, he really meant it.’
Psionic hyper regeneration was an ability that allowed the user to expend their psionic energy to stabilize and even heal wounds. A very strong psionic is generally hard to kill for this simple reason, they can internally stabilize fatal wounds. But it is an extremely costly ability, and a last resort. Most psionics cannot afford the energy consumption needed to maintain this for a prolonged time or an extensive list of wounds like hers.
‘Hmm…’ Idrithrel thought to herself as she channeled some psionic energy into the tip of her blade, before slashing the air horizontally to unleash a psionic cut in her direction. Much to her immediate surprise, the girl swatted away the blast, diverting it towards the wall, causing part of it to blow out.
“Hmm?” Idrithrel was surprised. “Very well! Come on, Anastajia! Show me more!” unleashing another flurry of slashes from distance.
In that moment, Anastajia’s visage flickered, parrying the cuts one by one, then lunging forward as she enveloped her legs with psionic energy. Idrithrel parried her blow, furrowing her brows for a moment, before sending the young girl flying back on her feet. A sense of dread enveloped Idrithrel.
‘Is my mind playing games?’ she thought to herself. ‘There’s no way—”
But Anastajia lunged forward once again, striking her with her fists. With each parried strike, the intensity and speed of her attacks increased, causing Idrithrel to put some distance between the two and unleash a devastating psionic blast into her direction.
Anastajia caught the brunt of the attack, being sent flying through one of the pillars.
“Huff.”
Idrithrel took a moment to compose herself.
“This must be a sick joke, Plume. What the hell did you find? Where did you even find this kid?” she audibly asked herself. In the next moment, a loud whistle rang through the air.
‘Huh? I’m upside down?’ she asked herself, before crashing into a pile of rubble.
Anastajia managed to get a solid strike in, sending Idrithrel flying through the hall and into a pile of rubble. By now, several alarms were blaring loudly throughout the temple, and temple guards poured into the halls themselves.
“Grand Executor!” one of the temple guards called out. “What the hell is going on?!”
“Just—” she grunted as she pulled herself out of the rubble “training my new apprentice, dear. How about you? Are you doing fine?” she grinned.
“Grand Executor, this isn’t funny! We’re in the Ziggurat!” he responded angrily. “Not even you can act with such disregard in here!” he retorted.
“I’ll make sure to read your letter of complaint before I throw it in the bin.” she shrugged “For now, make sure you stay out of my way. Don’t even try engaging her.”
“I’ll remind you that—” but he was immediately cut off by her harsh response.
“No. I will remind you who the Grand Executor is. You will follow my orders, or I will personally relieve you of your duties, captain. Now obey.”
Though visibly displeased, the captain was clearly uncomfortable. He adjusted his collar before quickly replying. “By your command…” and slowly retreated with his men. “We’re going to escort any other students or faculty from the area. Let’s go.”
Idrithrel smiled ominously at the captain as she watched him leave, before refocusing on Anastajia.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, dear. I can see that you’ve been holding that attack in while the guards evacuated.” she raised her chin at the large bolt of flaming, purple psionic energy gathering between her hands “It would seem, that to an extent, even in this state, you retain some awareness.”
Idrithrel sighed softly before raising her crimson blade, enveloping it in thick psionic energy.
“You are still a few hundred years too young to beat me.”
With a downwards motion, Idrithrel unleashed a blinding light.
- 2
Ok, here we have a cliffhanger just as the apprentice's powers are truly released. Liking the approach of Idrithrel and her attitude here. We shall see if her confidence is actually over-confidence.
Why would Idrithrel tempt fate like this?
Who (or what) did Anastijia just make a deal with? Why do I feel like that deal has... hidden clauses?