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“There’s a lot of Protoss in the square.” Ri’kara stayed close to both her companions, glancing around nervously. She couldn’t even see what was happening thanks to her size, a sea of shoulders blocking everything but the sky and the looming statue that always watched over the courtyard.
“Too many.” Alarak said warily, narrowed eyes darting back and forth.
“Do you know what’s happening, Verinis? There’s not usually this much activity out here.”
Verinis looked down at her, their eyes thoughtful. “Before the End War, we had a day to honour the statue of Khas in this square. It was a celebration of the day that all Protoss were unified under the song of the Khala.” Their voice had a note of sadness behind the reverence. “These days it is more of a memorial.”
She glanced up at the statue of the strange Protoss. Khas… She remembered Eryga speaking of him during some of her lessons.
“A memorial? Because of the End War?”
They nodded. “Yes. I suggest staying in the capitol building until evening today; you will barely be able to move by midday.”
“Alright.”
They slowly pushed past the throng, the psionic whispers of both private and open conversation an almost deafening storm in her head. It felt… almost transgressive to be a Tal’darim out in the square during such a day. She made herself a little smaller.
“… I’m sorry.”
“For what?” They tilted their head.
“For your Khala. I’m sure it was beautiful for you when you had it.”
She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must have felt like to be so interconnected with the Protoss around her, to have such intimate knowledge of the thoughts and feelings they experienced… To never feel alone. Her hearts ached oddly for something that she knew she would never experience even a fraction of. It was no wonder there were all these Khalai gathered here.
“It was, but that is in the past now. I miss it sometimes, yes, and the connection I had to my people through it, but it was a necessary sacrifice to free us; I remember what Amon felt like, and I would never want that again.” They gave her a soft, fond smile. “Do not worry for me; I have made my peace.”
She nodded, continuing to follow their lead. Alarak stayed very close beside her, one warm hand on her upper back as a sort of block from being accidentally stepped on; he seemed nervous, constantly looking back and forth around them, constantly looking for danger.
“You look as though you’d prefer to carry me.” She tried to keep her tone light, hoping it would ease the both of them.
He simply scoffed. “Tch. If these fools paid attention to their surroundings, it would not need to be considered.”
Just as they were getting to where the crowd was beginning to thin out, as he gave her some space where there wasn’t as much of a risk of her being trampled, the little Tal’darim felt a deliberate tap on her shoulder.
“Excuse me.” The voice was soft, polite, but she didn’t recognise its owner.
“Yes?” Confused, she turned, only to be greeted by the blade of a knife buried just under her sternum, her body doubling over with the sudden searing pain.
“Ri’kara?” Alarak barely had time to process what was happening before the assailant did the same to him, both of them crumpling against the ground.
Verinis was there in an instant, shielding the both of them as a Protoss close by caught sight of the blood, the panicked yelp causing a domino effect as more began to realise what was happening and set off running.
“Can either of you stand?!”
She held tightly to the wound, warm ink pouring from between her fingers as her vision swam. She could barely even shake her head to answer the frantic question, but she felt the familiar, rough touch against her arms as she was pulled away from the sudden stampede and sat against the steps.
“I need a healer!” They yelled, lying her on her back with her head resting against Alarak’s lap as they pressed their own hands over hers. All she could see was the deep indigo slowly seeping through his own fingers and spreading across his robes.
“Val’ka… Val’ka he—”
“I am fine.” His voice was strained, but his other hand joined Verinis’ against her. “Spare your concern.”
The thunder of armour against the ground seemed too loud in her head as measured, psionic barks redirected the crowd. A shadow passed over her, and she suddenly felt weightless, her eyes slipping closed.
An unfamiliar gold ceiling greeted her as they snapped open again. Each beat of her hearts brought an odd discomfort, an ache that stretched out to the rest of her middle. All she remembered was the blood on Alarak’s robes—
Shooting upright immediately rewarded her with a lance of pain, her words choked by a cry of agony.
“Hey, hey, take it easy.” A healer, her baby blue eyes gentle, was there the moment she moved, helping her rest back against the pillows of the infirmary bed. “You gave us quite the scare.”
She looked around herself, at the early morning sun against the sheets, at the monitoring equipment strapped to her, at the bandages covered in blood wrapped around her ribs just under her breasts.
The phase-smith wrapped her arms around herself, finally meeting the healer’s gaze. “How long have I been like this?”
“A few days.” She moved to the console beside the bed.
Days? “What about the ambassador? He was stabbed too, is he—?”
The healer gestured towards the window seat where a familiar figure sat, arms around his middle, head slumped, eyes closed. Asleep.
“He was lucky; the blade missed anything vital. I managed to treat him, but only after you left surgery.” She shrugged. “He has not moved since. You Tal’darim are certainly stubborn.”
Ri’kara’s gaze lingered on him, on the rise and fall of his shoulders, the matching bandages over his own ribs peeking through the gap in his robes. Even resting, he had that same frown across his eyes, brows lightly knitted together.
After a few moments, she tore her gaze away, looking down at her hands. “… I was in surgery?”
“Yes. It seems your organs are enlarged; where the blade should have missed, it instead pierced a chamber in your lower heart.”
She felt a shiver down her spine, a dread that she had felt many times in her life. Her mind put her, for a moment, on the edge of a fissure in the complex, Urach’s arms around her as the platform that had been below her feet was sent careening into the abyss.
“I’ll be ok, though, right?”
“Of course; it was an easy fix.” The healer smiled. “You will need to have weekly visits for a while, though. If there is any unusual pain, it is important that you visit again before what we schedule for you.”
She nodded, running her fingers along the bandage. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You should also only have an hour or two of sunlight a day until we give you the all clear; because the heart that helps to process nutrients was damaged, it will have trouble with too much light. The Hierarch has been informed that you are to suspend your duties to help with this until we are sure; the ambassador agreed.”
The sigh she let out tapered into a soft, irritated groan. Cooped up for weeks, maybe months… The little Tal’darim couldn’t think of anything more boring.
“Alright, fine.”
“If you need anything at all, the alert is on the back of the bedframe. I will leave you to rest a little more.”
Just before she left the room, she turned, looking at the sleeping Tal’darim in the window.
“If he wakes, tell him he needs to rest in his own room; he needs to be checked on with the equipment we attuned to him.”
“… I can’t promise anything.”
She nodded knowingly, stepping out into the hallway and allowing the door to softly close behind her.
Ri’kara sighed, lifting the blanket over herself rather than using her arms. Despite the initial painful awakening, she seemed to have been numbed with something; her chest just felt weirdly tight, as though she had been bound with ropes.
Her skin crawled, the feeling of being stared at shivering down her spine. Instinctively, her head snapped back to where her companion had been sleeping.
Sure enough, he was awake, staring, relief so clear in his eyes. As soon as their gazes locked, though, he dropped his expression into an irritated frown; his usual mask.
“Finally. I have had to spend these past few days mute. Do try not to need surgery for a while.”
“Hello to you too.” She rolled her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“As though that is any of your concern; it has happened enough that I am used to such a thing.” He snapped, getting to his feet and stretching, wincing with clear pain before he took to pacing slowly back and forth like a caged animal. “That healer was in here; did she at least make herself useful?”
“… She told me I’d been in surgery and why. I almost died, apparently; you could be a little nicer to me about it.”
To that, Alarak said nothing, instead pulling the chair near the bed over to her and sitting down, examining his claws.
“And I was told to tell you that should be in your own room; they need to check on you.”
“I made it quite clear I would not be leaving. They may drag their machines in here if they wish to treat me so badly.” He scoffed. “They should be focused elsewhere.”
His attitude was grating on her. It was obvious it was to hide how shaken he had been, how much uncertainty had gnawed away at him while she had been unconscious. His good leg bounced up and down restlessly as he sat still, his claws drumming against his thigh.
Ri’kara softened her voice a little. “Alarak.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to worry about me. She said I’d be fine.”
“I was not.” He snapped again, shooting her a glare that he couldn’t quite make as sharp as he wanted it to be.
She threw up her hands, not bothering to respond and instead pointedly tapping the cord decoration with a claw. Her chest had started aching oddly with the lance of irritation she had felt; he could get straight to the point.
He growled, sweeping out of the chair to begin another round of pacing back and forth. “I am tired of cowards believing that the only way to send a message is through these underhanded tactics. They may come back to Slayn and challenge me directly if they are so annoyed by my presence.”
Her continued silence seemed to work him up more, his pacing quickening, his hands gesturing sharply at nothing as he spoke. “And to decide to use you twice. You have nothing to do with whatever their grievances are; I find it insulting that they would use you to voice them, and Artanis will not allow me to answer such insult.”
“The Hierarch is right not to; it would only make it worse. Acting like you don’t care at all and leaving it to him means they’re less likely to try again.”
His scowl deepened, and he sat himself back down on the chair. “You looked like a corpse before that guard of yours had even laid you down, and yet you expect composure? Both of you wish for me to sit here and pretend that you did not almost perish?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “As though I could ignore that.”
It was a strange sensation, a warmth that spread through her abdomen and up to her chest. Obviously she didn’t want anyone to kill for her ever again, but his tone, the way that he was barely even trying to pretend that he was angry for himself… The feeling fluttered in her ribcage even as she tried to push it down.
“All you need to do is rest and heal. I saw your injury, and I’ve seen the way you’re holding yourself. You’re in pain.”
The Highlord rubbed his face. “Ugh, as though my pain is comparable to yours. You were more concerned about me even when you were almost dead. Will you at least attempt to focus on yourself?”
“Only if you do the same.” She ran a hand over her crest, shifting uncomfortably. “You know how worried I got the last time something like this happened to you, and by the way my chest is aching, I shouldn’t be any kind of stressed right now.”
A flash of concern danced across his eyes, his body tensing up slightly. There were a few moments of silence, then everything that seemed to be tightly wound up inside him began to unravel. That scowl softened, his shoulders sagged, the sigh that left him was heavy.
“Fine. I will return shortly.”
Ri’kara blinked at him, at the guilt that had coloured his tone as he swept out of the room. Surely he hadn’t been so easily convinced?
There, in the quiet left in his wake, she played with her fingers, pulled at the bandages, tried not to think about how that fluttering sensation refused to go away. He had slept on the window seat, curled up against the glass, waiting for her to wake up, and the relief in his eyes when he saw that she had…
She rolled the silver band between her fingers, watching the gem catch the light, and sighed. “You’re an idiot, Ri’kara.”
It was clear as the silence continued to stretch out that he wouldn’t be coming back for a while, so she lay back against the pillows, letting her eyes slip closed. Maybe sleep would dull that stupid sliver of longing.
A light brush of her shoulder jolted her awake again what seemed like only a few moments afterwards, the soft blue eyes of the same healer greeting her.
“Ah, my apologies; I was hoping not to wake you.” She pulled back, brushing down the blankets carefully.
“It’s fine.” She frowned a little, propping herself up on her elbows and looking around herself.
A new bed had been placed in the space next to hers, that familiar prosthetic leg propped neatly against the side of it. Alarak was lay under the sheets, tucked in so tightly that she had to stifle a laugh; no doubt the healers had to make completely certain he wouldn’t get up until they told him too.
Her eyes met his, and he tilted his head towards her in silent greeting.
“We have moved the ambassador in here for now to ensure his continued co-operation. It is a good thing you convinced him to allow us to provide treatment when you did.”
She blinked, glancing between the healer and him, dread scraping up against her ribs. “Was there something wrong?”
“Infection risk, nothing more. There is enough scar tissue on him as it is that healing is more difficult; you Tal’darim are not very good at taking care of your wounds.”
Alarak scoffed, rolling his eyes and making his displeasure known through a slight chill in the air around him. The healer only laughed a little.
“You will stay there until we tell you otherwise. I am sure your friend would prefer you get better, hm?”
He looked at Ri’kara again, his shoulders sagging slightly. He couldn’t answer, but his body language made it clear. Even the air stopped being so cold.
“Alright. I will leave both of you to rest. Again, if you need anything at all—”
“I’ll call you.” The little Tal’darim smiled. “Thank you, healer.”
She bowed a little and stepped out into the corridor, letting the door close behind her.
Ri’kara sighed, pulling herself properly into a sitting position and stretching, making a soft, cat-like sound and wincing when she stretched a little too far, a lance of dull pain shooting through her middle.
“Your condition?” He asked, voice soft enough that she felt her crest begin to warm.
“I’m ok. My chest just feels weird… What about you?”
“Fine.”
She smiled, looking down at the bandages, and then back over at him. “At least we’ll have matching scars now.”
“Do not make that joke, Ri’kara.” His eyes rolled again. “I should kill you just for uttering it.”
“Like you’d ever lay a finger on me.” She smirked at him, and as their eyes met, they both let out a soft laugh.
Once it died down, he frowned. “I am…” He paused. “I apologise for causing you distress. It wasn’t my intention.”
She brushed her sheets down and nodded. “I know.”
“I will attempt to temper my reactions in future.”
“Not that it’s easy to stay calm when you think your friend is dying.”
The Highlord lay back, looking up at the ceiling as his frown deepened. The silence ticked by for a few moments, his eyes tracing the patterns in the metal.
“I would never have considered the possibility of a ‘friend’ a century ago. Even considering apologising for being rightfully angry at such a situation would never have crossed my mind.”
“… Aiur has made you soft.” The little Tal’darim laughed softly as she repeated the phrase he had shot at her so often. It was true, though, something in him seemed to have begun to wear away all those sharp edges the longer he stayed here. He was already a far cry from the Alarak that she had first met in that council chamber.
“It has.” He shook his head. “And yet in some ways it is exactly like Slayn.”
Her eyes suddenly welled with tears at the odd bitterness in his voice; it was a bitterness that she felt too, stuck there in that bed recovering from a life-threatening injury. She had escaped to Aiur because she thought it would be safe, and yet at every turn the universe seemed to want to test that assumption.
“… I want to speak to the Aiur Tal’darim council once I’m well enough.”
Alarak’s head snapped towards her. “Why? Do not be a fool; they tried to have you killed—”
“My last attackers got away, Alarak.” She snapped. “Yes, it’s foolish, but I don’t care. I know one of the executors; he’ll get me answers whether he wants to or not.”
“The one from that party?” He scoffed. “And if this executor was the one to order the assassination attempt? What then?”
“I’ll take Verinis with me and I have my knife. I know that I’ve sworn off killing again, but… If it comes to it, I will.”
“Ri’kara. Allow Artanis to continue his investigation; he will speak with them himself.”
“And get nowhere again? No, I don’t want that to happen.” Ri’kara rubbed her temples, trying to ignore her chest’s ache. “Please. You have to let me try. They won’t listen to you, and I think they are either scared of the Hierarch or scared of looking bad in front of him. A phase-smith isn’t a threat.”
“That they know of.”
“Alarak.”
“… Fine. I do not enjoy having to admit it, but you are right.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll allow it, but only once you are well enough to leave this room.”
“Alright. We have a bargain then, hm?”
“We do.”
She nodded, lying back properly. “Now shh. I think I want to sleep some more. You should too; you look exhausted.”
“… Fine.”
His hesitation made her look at him again. “The machine will alert a healer if something happens to me while I’m sleeping. I don’t need you to stay awake to watch over me.”
He sighed but nodded, shuffling down a little further and making a show of closing his eyes and covering them with one arm.
Ri’kara rolled her own eyes before resting her head against the pillow and closing them. “Sleep well.”
To begin with, he said nothing, but as she felt herself drift off into unconsciousness, she heard him shuffle, as though he were turning to look at her, and he spoke so softly she wondered if she were already dreaming.
“Sleep well, Ri’kara.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Verinis frowned as they sneaked themselves up to one of the council chambers in the capitol building. “We still do not know where the culprit is… And what would the ambassador say? I know he does not speak, but even I could feel his fear when you were in surgery. Does he know about this?”
“He does. I asked him permission first. I’m hoping that Kal’narn will have answers we won’t get from the Hierarch’s investigation. After last time… It doesn’t matter if this is a good idea or not regardless. I need to know.”
“I understand. Just be careful.”
“Of course.”
They took their place outside the large chamber door, playing nervously with their spear as she stepped inside and allowed the door to close behind her.
The sun streamed through the high windows, so she used the shadows of the pillars that stretched towards the ceiling to avoid taking in too much sunlight, standing at the head of the table in the shade to wait.
It didn’t take long. The door shifted open, and Ri’kara stood a little straighter, watching as the unfamiliar executor entered. Just as any Tal’darim, they assessed the space with each step, narrowed eyes taking in the possible exits and points of danger.
They were tall, draped in the gold, white, and teal of the Aiur Tal’darim. Bright red tattoos stood out starkly on their white skin, framed the sweep of their cheekbones and the waves of their two-tiered crest. Their cords were gathered up into a high ponytail, the dark strands slowly brightening to an off-white at the tips.
As they stopped at the other end of the stretch of glass that made up the tabletop, resting those sharp pink eyes on her and allowing them to soften. It only put her more on edge.
“Ri’kara, was it?”
The words were lilted in the musical tone of pure Khalani. It surprised the little Tal’darim; usually those on Aiur would still use at least some of their own dialect, but…
She nodded, adjusting the bandage a little against her ribcage and responding in kind. “I was expecting Executor Kal’narn.”
“I know that you and he have a prior history, but I thought it best to step in on this occasion. I am Executor Re’ten; I lead the council here.”
Ri’kara bowed her head. The council leader was certainly a step up from having to use her connection to Eryga to force Kal’narn to speak with her, that was for sure.
Re’ten let out a soft sigh. “I heard that this is the second time you have been attacked.”
“Yes. I had to be relocated from the district after the first. I cannot do much more than install personal shielding at this point and hope that the next one is as unlucky as the others.”
“I do not wish for you to just accept that you may die.”
“I might.” She shrugged. “Especially if your people continue to do this. We have told you time and time again that the ambassador is not here for you; he is here to negotiate help for the Highlord.”
Their head tilted slightly. “’Your people’? Ri’kara, do you not consider yourself one of us?”
She had to bite back the wry laugh that threatened to bubble up from her chest at the concern that coloured the executor’s tone. “I think the beating and the stabbing have made it quite clear that I am not considered so. Even before all this, I was still treated like a phase-smith by those I was not already friends with, so no. I am not a Slayn Tal’darim, I am not an Aiur Tal’darim. I am myself.”
They nodded, allowing a cold silence to fall over the room.
“… I just want to know that you will do what you can to make this madness stop. They are not here for you. I would never have accepted the assignment if that had been the case, executor; I know better than anyone the old tyranny of Slayn.”
“I cannot control every whim of our people—”
“This was not whim, executor. The beating? Perhaps that was the impulses of scared and angry Tal’darim, but this? The attacker knew that we would have to travel through the crowd and took full advantage of the chaos. Someone planned this. At the very least you could help us figure out who and why; the Hierarch has told me that your council has been stubborn about it.”
Re’ten shook their head slightly, eyes focusing on a spot on the wall beside them rather than look her in the eye. It was then that Ri’kara froze, eyes widening as she realised something.
“It was an executor?”
“We are conducting an investigation of our own. Do not leap to such conclusions.” Their head whipped back towards her, answer too quick in an attempt to silence her train of thought.
“The Hierarch will have to be informed of your suspicion.”
“The Hierarch should not interfere in our business.”
She growled in frustration, gesturing sharply towards them. “You made it his business when you decided to do as the Templar do and set up a council to liaison with him! You made it his business when one of your own attacked the ambassador and his aide! It was his business the moment one of your colleagues decided to give the order for them to do so!”
They sighed heavily, rubbing their temples. “Ri’kara, I… I do not wish to fight you. Allow us to investigate first before the Hierarch intervenes. You must understand that we need to be able to discipline our own without help.”
“Why? Why should I allow you to let our attempted murderer get away? You wonder why I do not feel like I am one of you and yet you are asking this of me with that soft priest’s voice that is not fooling anyone. It is not weak to ask for aid! How am I better at this than you, you have been here longer than I have!”
The executor cast their eyes to the ground, silent.
“… They never caught the three cowards that beat me half to death, you know.” She spat the sentence out bitterly; a lot of things seemed to be falling into place that felt wrong, sat oddly in her chest. Even if she knew it already, the idea that none of them cared was still painful. “I was dragged from my home at dawn and left a bloody pulp in my garden. It was lucky one of my only friends saw me to scare them off or I might not even be standing here. If I find out it was because you decided not to allow the Hierarch to interfere with ‘your business’—”
They gestured sharply to cut her off. “Fine. I will work with the Hierarch on the matter; I do not wish for you to believe that we want you dead.”
She couldn’t help but laugh a little, their sharp interruption confirmation of her accusation. “You make that very difficult, Executor, but thank you for the talk. I am glad we could get on the same page.”
Re’ten bowed their head slightly, a gesture that Ri’kara matched, before leaving her in the room alone.
Tears suddenly began to well up in her eyes in the silence after the door had shifted closed. Indifference, a need to look good rather than do good, stung more than any cruelty that a Slayn Tal’darim could have inflicted on her.
“If Kal’narn gave that order…” The thought finally drew a frustrated sob from her. Of course it would be him; he’d treated her like dirt from the start, only entertained her because Eryga had asked him to give her a chance. Of course he would never try anything directly; she was right to reassure Verinis and Alarak of that, but…
She allowed herself a few moments to cry out her frustration before wiping her tears and making her way back out to where Verinis was waiting.
“Will you rest now?” They asked softly. Concern coloured their tone so much when speaking with her as of late that the little Tal’darim felt guilty for roping them in to their secret investigation.
“Yes. I got what I needed for now.” She began to head down the corridor, once again shifting her bandage slightly; her chest ached a little.
“For now?” Verinis followed her quickly, brow furrowing. “What did they say to you?”
She shook her head, unable to stop the bitter tone from creeping into her voice. “They tried to convince me to keep the Hierarch out of it, said that they would investigate for themselves. A council member ordered the attack, so likely nothing will come of anything if I don’t say something.”
“By the gods… One would think they would show more concern for their people—”
“I am not ‘their people’, Verinis. I never was. They ‘investigated’ my last attack too, and it’s the reason those three bastards were never found.”
Their eyes filled with sadness. “… What will you do now?”
“Tell the Hierarch. They said that they would co-operate, at least, and I hope they do instead of trying to look ‘good’ for the Daelaam. We’ll have to figure out how to keep the Highlord and the first Ascendant better hidden when they come here; I’m pretty sure that they’ve started to suspect that she’s been visiting. Or they know already. That might be what triggered this.”
Rubbing her face, Ri’kara made her way out of the capitol building through the smaller rear entrance, taking a detour through the more unkempt gardens, keeping to the shade and the shadows even if the day was overcast.
It was a relief to finally be inside again, almost back to the safety of her room. Something about the stabbing had pulled that timid, shaking version of her out and weaved it back into her muscle memory. She stuck to the wall, glanced at every passerby and tensed her body for brief moments before they were fully away from her.
Finally, they stopped outside her door, and Verinis bowed their head.
“I will be a summon away if you need me.”
“Thank you.” She patted their arm, giving them as reassuring a smile as she could muster before stepping through the threshold and closing the door behind her, looking out at her room with a soft, tired sigh.
Her eyes passed over the seating area by the balcony, her brain taking a few moments to catch up with what she had seen; a figure, knelt in front of the low table and watching her intently. She froze.
“Ri’kara.” Executor Kal’narn regarded her with caution, adjusting the sleeves of his cream-coloured robes.
Almost immediately, her mind was on the knife she kept in her skirts, her hand hovering over the spot even as it shook. Her eyes narrowed.
“How did you get in here?”
He put up both hands. “Your healer allowed me in to wait for you.”
The healer? She inwardly winced. Of course the healer wouldn’t be fully informed of what had gone on considering how politically difficult it all was, but the fact that she was letting just anybody into her own chambers was dangerous.
Carefully, she inched towards her communication console, back to the wall, eyes trained on him the whole time. Her hearts were hammering painfully in her chest as all her suspicions came crashing back in. He’s here to kill me, isn’t he?
“What do you want?”
“To warn you.”
She hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “… What?”
“I know that we haven’t always seen eye to eye—”
Ri’kara scoffed. “That’s a strange way of saying that all you’ve ever done is treat me like dirt.”
He shrugged, not particularly bothered with the accusation. “A remnant of my upbringing, I’m sure you understand. Either way… Which executor did you meet with?”
She inched a little closer to the panel, until her body was covering the display. “Re’ten.”
“Alright.” His shoulders visibly relaxed. “They are safe.”
In the back of her mind, she interfaced with the console, shutting off the sound, beginning to compose a silent message. “… How can you be so sure of that?”
“Listen. Judicator Eryga asked me, when you first decided to become that ambassador’s aide, to keep an eye on you. Not that I wanted to involve myself in whatever you thought you were doing, but he is… More knowledgeable about these subtle politics than I, and he predicted that my council may decide to work against you should they believe you a threat to them.”
“Considering how much you hate Slayn Tal’darim, I’m not surprised; if you’d had the chance, I’m sure you’d have killed Val’ka at that gathering.”
Kal’narn frowned but said nothing.
“We’ve already told you over and over that Alarak has sent the ambassador to help the Slayn Tal’darim; he wants nothing to do with you, and I have it on good faith that he wouldn’t go back on his word now after all this time.”
“At one time I didn’t believe that. I will admit that I was scared.”
“We all were.”
“We all are.” He sighed, pulling himself to his feet, though he scoffed and kept his hands visible as she shrank back against the wall. “By the void, I am not here to hurt you.”
“I can’t be sure of that, Kal’narn. Someone on the council ordered that attack—”
“And it wasn’t me!” He stepped forward, amber eyes blazing. “Yes, I hate them; I hate that they come here and insert themselves into what we built here on Aiur, I hate that they have only just now decided that slaughtering each other is an unsustainable way to live, and I hate that you have decided that they are worth saving.”
Ri’kara blinked, unsure of what to say to the sudden outburst. The message was composed, ready, but she hesitated to send it, her body relaxing slightly despite his raised voice.
He took her silence as permission to continue. “I think that you’re a fool, so eager to help those that don’t deserve it like the servant that you have been raised as when you could be so much more, but I do not hate you. I wouldn’t hurt you, and if I wanted to, I would have done it already; assassins are for priests and prelates who don’t want to get their hands dirty.”
“… Then why are you here instead of in that council chamber telling me this? Why did I have to speak with Re’ten instead?”
“They insisted; I think they suspected me as well.”
“A great show of unity from the Aiur Tal’darim council.” Ri’kara rolled her eyes. “You all act like you’re so different from Slayn Tal’darim, but I haven’t once been attacked by one of them. I haven’t had to be relocated to have someone keep watch over me because of anyone on Slayn. The phase-smiths there hate me, and the first Ascendant treats me like a servant, but that isn’t any different from how your people treat me.”
“… More than one executor wants to put you on trial. That is what I came to warn you about; they are putting together a case and want to try you for treason against them.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Do you agree?”
“No, but they know of our relationship, so my word will not count in a vote.”
A trial. She rubbed her face, frustration bubbling up to the surface. “I haven’t done anything.”
“You have continued to help the Slayn Tal’darim in what most of them assume is a plot to force us back to Slayn and the way of life we escaped.” His expression softened. “They were never going to believe a phase-smith.”
“Will they put Val’ka on trial?”
“If they can get hold of him, though the fact that he is mute may prove difficult.” He tilted his head. “Funny that he only speaks to you.”
She tried not to freeze up at the slightly accusatory tone, made sure to keep her voice level. “And the Hierarch. It took a while; he was writing on parchment at first, but it came easier once he trusted us enough. As I told you before; he didn’t have much of a choice.”
He nodded. “I wanted to warn you now so that you could organise. I don’t know if they will brush off the investigation again—”
“Re’ten agreed to co-operate with the Hierarch when I spoke with them, but I’m going to tell him what I’ve learned anyway.”
“Fine.”
“… Do you know who attacked me? Not the stabbing, but the first one.”
Kal’narn sighed. “That wasn’t orchestrated by anyone.”
“I thought as much, but do you know who?”
He shrugged. “Three Tal’darim that lived near you in the district. There was a larger group spreading rumours, but they were the three that took action. We exiled them; they’re off world.”
“And you didn’t tell the Hierarch?”
“Ri’kara you have to understand that we are trying to adhere to the rules as much as we can, but in a way that allows us control. We need to be able to show the Hierarch and the rest of the Daelaam that we can handle our own, or what will they think of us?”
It was frustrating how much they seemed to want to just look good. As much as a part of her understood; she had her fair share of comments from Khalai and Nerazim alike about what they had assumed the Tal’darim to be, how bloodthirsty they still thought they were, but…
“The Hierarch would think no less of you for asking for help. That’s what a ‘unified Protoss’ is for. Now when I tell him what’s going on, he’s going to interfere way more than any of you wanted him too.”
“… I know.”
She let her sigh taper into an irritated growl. “When is the trial?”
“I don’t know; they still have ‘evidence’ to gather… Possibly in the next year or two.”
“Alright, that gives me time.”
“Will the ambassador be informed?”
She shrugged. “… Maybe. Or maybe he’ll be off world by then.”
Kal’narn gave her an understanding nod. “Well. I did what I came here to do. I’d rather not involve myself any further than this, so contact Re’ten if you need anything else.”
“Oh?”
“She suspects I am behind the attack, the others suspect I am becoming too soft on the idea of the Slayn Tal’darim. I want to keep my position, and I have to keep it if I am to be involved in their trial later; someone will have to speak sense.”
“Alright. Thank you… And I’m sorry for even thinking it was you.”
“I can understand why. I will not hold it against you.” He bowed his head, giving her one last look before turning and leaving her room.
Ri’kara slumped back against the wall, letting her heartrate slow as much as she could. Her chest felt like it was burning, and her shoulders hurt from how tensed she had been.
Once she had calmed enough, she stood properly, looking at the console still poised to send an alert to Alarak and the Hierarch. Part of her felt stupid for even thinking that she would have needed to call for help from them; it was only Kal’narn. But at the same time…
“It never hurts to be cautious, Ri’kara.”
Interfacing with it again, she composed a new message to the Hierarch. He needed to know everything that she had learned if there was any way of getting actual justice for her and for Alarak.
Alarak… Part of her wanted to tell him the full extent, but after his reaction to her injuries, she wondered if it was a good idea to tell him any more than that the investigation might actually bring something up this time. She had been bluffing for Kal’narn, but she had a strange feeling that if the Highlord knew she would be in danger again, there wouldn’t be any way to stop him. Not that she really knew why.
“He can be angry with me once I’ve been dismissed and the whole ridiculous thing is dropped.”
Finally, after sending the message, she lit some incense and sat in a shaded spot to look out of her balcony windows. She had never noticed it before, but she could see the statue of Khas through a couple of the other spired buildings, his hand outstretched towards the crystal suspended just above.
Unity… Part of her ached for such a sense of community, for a sense of belonging somewhere. All these past few weeks had shown her was that she wasn’t welcome, that she didn’t deserve something that was spoken of so reverently by her Templar friends.
Her eyes slid away from the statue to the bouquet of flowers and the little notes left on her desk. Her friends hadn’t been allowed in the room at the facility, but once she was moved back to her room, they had wasted no time in making sure that she was alright and visiting when they could. She thought of them, thought of Alarak, so concerned with her wellbeing that he was practically eating himself alive just as she had when he had been poisoned.
She tapped the ash from the end of the stick, watching the smoke curl upwards.