Alliance of Serpents (20 page)

With that, the picture became a little
clearer. Her hatred toward the Kyrosen, her endless frustration and
anger, her cold and seemingly heartless visage; it all stemmed from
what the Kyrosen had done to her. What they'd taken away. Arus
wanted to comfort her, but he knew there were no words that would
truly soften the pain of losing someone so close. He knew that all
too well. "What did you do?"

"I ran away from home. After wandering for a
few days, I ended up settling in an alley," she continued. "There
was one Aeden soldier on the ground at the time, a covert
operations agent who had been hired by the kingdom to track down a
local narcotics supplier. He found me in that alley and offered to
take me home. I didn't trust him; I didn't trust
anyone
at
that point. So I lived in a waste disposal tub in the alley for
about a month, and every day that soldier would stop by at least
twice to bring me food and drink. He said he didn't like seeing
anyone live like I was and that he wanted to take me to my
parents." She smiled briefly and said, "I remember when I told him
I was an orphan. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.
Eventually, he asked if I would be willing to let him care for me.
He told me he was a member of the Aeden Alliance and that he'd do
everything in his power to keep me safe. To this day I don't know
why he did what he did for me, but he's watched over me like a
father ever since."

Arus' breath caught as he realized who she
was talking about. "Damien? It was Damien who rescued you?"

"Yes. He's taught me everything I know. More
than just how to defend myself, mind you. He's raised me as his
daughter, laughing with me when I'm happy, punishing me when I
disobey, and holding my hand when I've needed support. He'll never
be able to replace my real father, but that was never his
intention. He just wants to make sure I'm taken care of, and there
are no words to describe how grateful I am for it."

It certainly was a lot of trauma for a six
year-old girl to be forced to endure. Within one month, she'd gone
from living a normal life with her parents to being an orphan in an
alley to fleeing her planet in a starship. Why she thought this
wasn't a big deal, he couldn't understand. Her life had been
forcefully ripped away, and the incident had instilled such fear in
her that she felt her only escape was to flee the planet. Arus
struggled to find something to say to comfort her. "Kitreena, I'm
so sorry," was all he could come up with.

She shook her head and waved it away. She
didn't want his sympathies. "I know my issues don't even compare to
what you've been through, so I have no right to—"

"You have every right," Arus cut in. "Don't
compare yourself to me or anyone else. We all face problems, and we
all feel pain. Just because you think something worse happened to
someone else doesn't mean your pain doesn't matter! Pushing it away
and trying to ignore it will only make it worse."

"It's selfish of me to sit here and wallow in
my own miseries when there are so many people out there suffering
more cruelty and injustice than I've ever had to experience," she
said simply. "I've got to just ignore it and move on with my
life."

"You'll find no peace that way. You don't
treat an open wound by ignoring it. Even a small injury can be
fatal if not treated properly."

Now she laughed out loud. "Trust me, this
isn't going to kill me. I'll be fine."

Arus made a conscious note of fixing his
cybernetic eye on her, and raised his steel hand. "It almost killed
me, and I didn't even realize I'd been harboring any pain until
recently. When I saw the Mages attack Keroko for the first time,
and I dueled with one of them, a hidden fury buried deep inside me
awoke, and by the time Truce and I were face to face in the
Underworld, I wanted nothing more than to spill his guts all over
that arena floor."

"I can control my anger," she insisted,
glaring back at his metallic eye without as much as a flinch. "I
won't let that happen to me."

"Can you? Were you in control when you
transformed in Castle Asteria?"

Finally, she tore her hand away from his and
stepped back, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't speak of
something you know nothing about! Morphing is different; every one
of my people goes through the same thing when initially learning to
control their abilities."

"I'll admit that I know nothing about
Morphers," Arus conceded, "but the two times I have seen you tap
into that ability, they were both brought on by a vivid display of
anger and hatred. You can't deny that."

Kitreena's lips twisted into a wry smile. Any
hopes of salvaging a nice evening together had flown out the
window, it seemed. "Don't try to analyze me like some kind of
psychiatrist. Just because you couldn't handle your anger doesn't
mean I can't control mine. I've been doing it for seven years, and
I'll continue to do it because it's what I have to do."

Finally, Arus threw up his hands in
resignation. "I just . . . I don't like seeing what its doing to
you."

She crossed her arms and turned away from him
again. With her head tilted so that her forehead was resting
against the glass dome, she let out a long sigh. "I told you that
you wouldn't like me once you got to know me."

"It's
because
 I like you that I'm
so worried about you."

That brought her eyes back around, and she
stared at him with that considering look again.
What about me
could you possibly like?
She opened her mouth, presumably to
ask the question aloud, but words were already tumbling out of
Arus' mouth.

"You're beautiful, you're emotionally strong,
and you defend people who can't do it for themselves. You're funny,
sweet, and caring when you let your guard down long enough to allow
those qualities to come out, and you honestly care about the
well-being of others. You're fifteen years old, and yet you've got
the strength and determination to carry yourself confidently
through even the grimiest parts of the universe just to help
someone in need. Whether you realize it or not, Kit, people like
you are a rare breed."

Tears streamed down her face as he spoke. It
was as though she'd never heard anyone say a positive word about
her before. Before he realized what was happening, she fell into
his arms, and the next thing he knew she was crying her eyes out as
she nuzzled against his chest. "I don't mean to be like this! I
don't!" she said between sobs. "But every time I see someone who
would harm another soul I just see red, and I lose control. I want
F'Ledro dead at my feet, I won't deny that, but anyone who
disrespects the sanctity of life is just as bad as him in my eyes.
There won't be true peace until they're dead, every last one of
them!"

Arus ran his hand through her hair as she
cried, hoping in some way to comfort her pain. "I know," he
whispered. "I know. That's why Vultrel and I took up the fight
against the Mages when we were so young. When my father was lying
on his deathbed, he gave me his sword. The last words he spoke to
me were a request that I use it to defend the helpless against
monsters like Aratus Truce and his minions. I promised him that I'd
spend my life keeping the innocent safe, and I will die to keep
that promise. But I can do that without allowing anger and
vengeance to cloud my vision. And so can you, Kitreena. I know you
can."

"I don't see how," she sniffled, wrapping her
arms around him. "It's not as though I choose to react the way I
do. It just . . . happens."

"It will take time. Changing your perception
of the world around you doesn't happen overnight. For me, I tried
to fight the anger and rage, but it wasn't until I paid the price
for it that I really learned to rise above it. It's more than just
ignoring it; you have to change your view of life so that feelings
like that have no place. Avenging your parents' death won't bring
them back. But it
could
destroy you."

She only cried harder at that, shaking her
head against his chest. "But I want them all dead! Every single
being out there that would hurt another out of selfishness should
be gutted and removed from the circle of life! What gives them the
right? What makes them think they have the right to hurt people the
way that they do!?"

"I don't know, Kitreena," he murmured,
staring out into space. "I just don't know."

They stood there for hours while she cried on
his shoulder, and when the Observation Deck had nearly emptied
itself as crewmembers headed for bed, Arus escorted Kitreena back
to her room. She thanked him for the evening and apologized over
and over for her emotional outburst, but he graciously told her
there was no need for apologies and that his shoulder would be
available whenever she needed to get her feelings out. She seemed
appreciative at that, and she closed her door with a soft "Good
night." Arus returned to his own room and grabbed his sword. His
mind was still racing over everything that had happened, and there
was no way he was going to be able to sleep. Instead, he headed to
the gym to practice his techniques. The woods outside of Keroko
were certainly a better spot for one to find solitude with his own
thoughts, but the gym was a reasonable substitute. "I won't let
what happened to me happen to her," he murmured as he walked along
the corridor. "I won't."

Chapter
6

A dull ache pounded through Vultrel's head
with each breath. He was not surprised to find himself in a prison
cell when he awoke—that had been his goal, actually—but he had
certainly been surprised by the circumstances that led him there.
He'd expected to be brought to Sartan Truce following his capture,
but he was instead escorted to meet with Olock. After he once again
demanded to be allowed to speak with Truce, he was informed that
Olock had taken command of the Kyrosen. That, of course, left
Vultrel to wonder if Truce had been killed at Cathymel. And if so,
had it been a mistake to surrender to the Mages?

No, they all must be destroyed, not just
Truce. Killing him alone wouldn't stop them from bringing
destruction to other civilizations. Besides, Truce wasn't killed at
Cathymel.

At least he knew that for certain now. Olock
had been tight-lipped about the Kyrosen's apparent departure from
Terranias, saying he was too busy to entertain guests. A stiff blow
from a blunt object to the back of Vultrel's head put him down, and
when he opened his eyes, he was in a prison cell onboard a starship
headed to who-knew-where. The accommodations were actually quite
comfortable for that of a prisoner's cell. The bed was soft and
clean, the air was cool, and the floor was carpeted with a pattern
of blue and green squares and ovals. There was even a rectangular
viewport on the rear wall. It was a nice step over the makeshift
cells of the Underworld, though an extended stay as a prisoner in
some starship was not a part of Vultrel's plans. Especially not
with Sartan Truce as his neighbor.

To say that waking up to find Truce seated
comfortably in the cell across from him was a surprise would be a
mere fraction of the truth. Mutiny was the first thought that came
to mind. Had his failure at Cathymel led to an uprising amongst the
Kyrosen against Truce? It would've certainly made sense considering
how many Mages died in that battle and how many promises of
Sartan's were broken. Arus' implant, while seemingly flawless, had
not gotten the job done. Sarathon lived, Asteria stood, and the
Mages were once again sent fleeing to the Mayahol. Combined with
Olock's assertions that he was suddenly in charge, mutiny seemed
like the obvious conclusion. But when Vultrel inquired, Truce
denied any such thing, insisting instead that he had stepped down
temporarily for the good of his people. He refused to elaborate any
more on that, though his ever-present grin was as wide as ever.
Eventually, Vultrel decided that trying to get any more information
out of Sartan Truce would be like trying to milk a bull.

But that didn't stop the wretched man from
grinning at him through the bars of his prison cell. "You really
don't know when to quit, do you?" Truce laughed as he spoke. "You
should've stayed in bed this morning, kid. We were going to leave
you and your pathetic world behind for good. You never would've
heard from us again. But you had to go and throw yourself into the
mix again. You've assured your own death, boy."

"Don't try to threaten me, Truce," Vultrel
shot back. "You're in no better position than I am, no matter what
you claim."

The man threw back his head and roared with
laughter. "If only you knew," he said between gasps of air. "You
really think you've figured out what's going on around here, don't
you?"

Vultrel smiled coldly. "I won't be fooled by
your lies anymore. You can make up as many stories as you want, but
I will not be deceived by you again."

"The man who lives his life in search of lies
will often miss the truth right in front of his face."

Vultrel rolled his eyes and leaned against
the wall. How he wished the bloody pounding in his head would stop!
"Spare me your ‘wisdom' and tell me the truth. What's going on
around here? Where are we going?"

The gleam that flashed in Truce's eyes
could've only been described as wicked. "To find your friend, of
course."

That got Vultrel's attention, so much so that
he was on his feet in an instant. "Arus? What are you going to do
with him?"

Truce reclined on his own bed, his
insufferable grin growing to reveal every tooth. "Pay a debt," he
simply said.

Vultrel grabbed the bars of his cell with a
snarl, which drew the attention of the two towering men guarding
Truce's cell. Their faces and skin looked much like Damien's,
though their uniforms were a plain grey as opposed to Damien's more
colorful attire. The two of them turned their faces away from Truce
long enough to glare at Vultrel before returning. So far, there had
been little indication of what they were doing standing there with
their palms raised as they were. Vultrel had decided that it was
simply extra protection in case Truce tried to escape. The man was
a Mage, after all.