Slouching Towards Logosia (A Techno-Prophetic Epilogue)
Jun 7, 2019 15:29:13 GMT -5
Jolicia and Garnet like this
Post by Judas D'arc on Jun 7, 2019 15:29:13 GMT -5
Their point of arrival was now her place of departure, and the damp walls of the cavern gleamed with the pulsating lights of her machine. Red and white. Resting upon a bed of mushrooms and surrounded by a circle of stalagmites, the device was visually unimpressive considering its vast capabilities. Three feet tall and half as wide, the dark metal casing concealed an intricate fusion of mechanized components, rotating gears, and crystalline power source. A rhythmic humming accompanied their workings, though this sound was overwhelmed by the noise of the nearby underground waterfall, and the pleasant voice of the finely-dressed man who spoke to her.
“Are you sure I cannot convince you to reconsider?” His thick, painted lips formed a slight pout. “Nothing good will come from your threat to come back here.”
Her response was calm, yet dismissive. “Are you certain that Lector Stavros is dead?”
“The Fist’s letter to me was quite unambiguous in their rejection of your offer, and I doubt they would keep him alive as a prisoner indefinitely.”
“Then my own retaliation is but a certainty,” she said solemnly.
“Do not ask me to interfere again,” said the finely-dressed man. “I only negotiated for you out of respect for the old alliances, and because the Lector never abandoned them, unlike the majority of your people. That, and I desired an end to this pointless conflict.”
“I expect nothing more of you.”
“And what of your promise to me?” He raised an inquisitive, painted eyebrow.
“I will keep the secrets of your name,” she nodded once. “Even from my fellow Technocrats.”
“Good luck to you, Sister Niva,” he bowed his head graciously. I hope we never meet again.”
“And to you, Lord Haxley.” She repeated the gesture. “When we return, I will seek to spare you of the punishments I shall inflict upon the Emerald Fist. But know too that the Techno-Prophecy is an inevitability.”
When the finely-dressed man was gone, the lone survivor of Lector Stavros’ ill-fated mission of vengeance picked up her machine. She flipped a small switch situated along the device’s side, and a bright red-white portal manifested immediately before her. Thoughts of her homeland beckoned her forth, and she danced across the threshold without hesitation. After so many months spent in this pit of a world, Logosia would be a welcome sight --
-- a pity that faith and obligation would soon force the Technocrat’s return.
“Are you sure I cannot convince you to reconsider?” His thick, painted lips formed a slight pout. “Nothing good will come from your threat to come back here.”
Her response was calm, yet dismissive. “Are you certain that Lector Stavros is dead?”
“The Fist’s letter to me was quite unambiguous in their rejection of your offer, and I doubt they would keep him alive as a prisoner indefinitely.”
“Then my own retaliation is but a certainty,” she said solemnly.
“Do not ask me to interfere again,” said the finely-dressed man. “I only negotiated for you out of respect for the old alliances, and because the Lector never abandoned them, unlike the majority of your people. That, and I desired an end to this pointless conflict.”
“I expect nothing more of you.”
“And what of your promise to me?” He raised an inquisitive, painted eyebrow.
“I will keep the secrets of your name,” she nodded once. “Even from my fellow Technocrats.”
“Good luck to you, Sister Niva,” he bowed his head graciously. I hope we never meet again.”
“And to you, Lord Haxley.” She repeated the gesture. “When we return, I will seek to spare you of the punishments I shall inflict upon the Emerald Fist. But know too that the Techno-Prophecy is an inevitability.”
When the finely-dressed man was gone, the lone survivor of Lector Stavros’ ill-fated mission of vengeance picked up her machine. She flipped a small switch situated along the device’s side, and a bright red-white portal manifested immediately before her. Thoughts of her homeland beckoned her forth, and she danced across the threshold without hesitation. After so many months spent in this pit of a world, Logosia would be a welcome sight --
-- a pity that faith and obligation would soon force the Technocrat’s return.
