Jataka - The Prophetess

All of it.  She could still see all of it.  Even at this end that, foretold for years, was still as bittersweet as when she first saw it – she could see all of it.  The curse of the serpents’ flickering, forked tongues, since that night of her youth spent in the shrine to the Sun, haunting her to her final breath – all of it.  It all flashed across her mind then, as she sat, naked in the moonlight, awaiting her master – she saw all of it.  The doctrine of vindictive gods stretched beyond her own life, into a time and space incomprehensible – every single part of the whole, she saw all of it.

Years into decades, decades into centuries, everything that ever was to be, unveiled to her.  The rise and fall of empires, of peoples foreign and queer, of cities of mud and metal alike – all of it was hers to witness.  The tumultuous concert of human progression, tampered, aided and stunted, in a whirlwind of divine portension, from the loom of the Fates to the front of her mind.  It was often far too much to bear.  And so it was since her youth.

Reflecting upon the sorrow of her past, as her master disrobed, she remembered all of it.  The dreams, those horrid dreams, which soon became realities.  She remembered all of it.  Princess, she was, to proud parents and twin brother.  Another life it seemed to her, before the night with Loxias.  Yet she remembered all of it.  When Delphinius came to her as she lay in his temple, she remembered the hesitation.  She remembered the spurning of her suitor, not of pride but fear, an action innocent, yet assumed arrogant.  She remembered the rage then, the scorned Helius, and the true curse that would haunt her for the rest of her life, and the rest of eternity.  All of it, she remembered.

The worst of it was being forsaken and ignored when she tried to disseminate it all.  All she saw and all she recalled, she tried to voice all of it.  Met with disbelief and ridicule, obstinate and willful people of Ilion, of Troia, of Truva, the wool of a petty god over their ears – cursed, they ignored all of it.  Every warning unheeded, every plea denied, she watched it all come to fruition.  Every calamity, no matter how small, would happen as she dictated.  All of it, unfolding in life as in her dreams, and every one forewarned and disregarded.  News of far flung lands, of famines near at hand, of fleets converging and her other brother’s prideful mistake.  Of the war to come, of the death to bear, of the false gift of peace…

When her home had fallen to the invaders, her supplication was desecrated.  Clutching Pallas, crying to those fickle gods, she found no solace, no quarter.  Her constant, unwavering faith, even in light of her curse…unrewarded.  The lesser, he was, the commander of the Locrians, he that stole her virtue on that sacred ground.  Painful and vicious, the sorrow of her plight lessened only slightly by the knowledge of his impending doom.  He had moved within her then, as her master did now, spilling his seed with a conqueror’s conceit, with only his pride to blame for his damnation.  His body lay cold at the bottom of the sea.  She lay moaning, warm in bed with a king atop.

Despoiled as she was, she hadn’t shed a single tear when she was sold to her master.  Her own death sealed then, as she had seen.  Her sons, doomed to the same fate, only for their fathers’ name.  Their fathers’ wife.  The hypocritical jealousy of a scorned cheat, cast upon her, driving the queen to murder.  No.  Not quite that far, not alone.  There was another, she saw.  A man with the blessing of Astrapios, twisting the mind of her masters’ wife.  She saw why, understanding that her curse, her gift, was too much to account for.  The grand designs of a greedy man, predicated on the simple expedient of ending her precious life.

Watching her master dress, describing the forthcoming meal that she, in her head, had eaten for years, she considered the life lived cursed.  Every action she took to thwart the future was inconsequential.  The futility of her existence made clear from the very beginning.  Her life was one of immense sorrow, grief, and madness.  And it all stemmed from him, god of all ways, but only Death’s to her.  He had destroyed her, her love of old…and no mistake, she had loved him.  Worshiped him.  Prayed…but had not asked for it, not for the gift nor for his affection.  The failings of innocent presumptions, of ideas of mercy in light of The Light.  Her fatal shortcoming.

As she slipped into her gown, she knew her sons laid in their cradles, blood pooling around their lifeless bodies.  Everything they could have been, staining the swaddling clothes meant to keep them safe and warm.  As she walked to dinner astride her master, she knew his breaths to be numbered.  Noble warrior and king, soon to be butchered.  As she approached the altar to sacrifice, one final time to silently beg for peace, she knew the queen’s lover approached with ax in hand.  When her master cried out as he fell, she felt the hot tears stream down her face, her frustrating life finally at an end.  And when the ax bit into her skull, she saw Elysium.  

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. XI)

Hara moved to the right, diving out of the way of an incoming lightning bolt.  The wyvern roared again, flame erupting from its maw.  I have to keep moving, he thought to himself.  He took to the sky, avoiding the fire and trying to hide himself in the cloud cover.  The sounds of large wingbeats followed him.  Given the extraordinary circumstances, Hara was feeling strangely calm.  Sure, he had never had to slay a wyvern, but to him, combat was combat.  How hard could it possibly be?

Having the high ground would help him analyze his opponent, Hara thought, but Thestus was fast.  The wyvern was gaining ground and snapping at his heels.  Hara hesitated, waiting until the jaws were almost upon him before darting downwards.  Plummeting towards the volcano, he turned and dragged his blade along the wyvern's belly, hoping to find a gap in the scale armor.  Failing that, he twisted, trying to elevate, but Thestus was ready, and the wyvern's tail hit its target.

The collision knocked the wind out of him and the force of hit slammed him into the mountainside.  Hara bounced into the air, narrowly avoiding another lightning strike.  Hara swore to himself, gritting his teeth as he finally came to a rest.  The weather was a huge problem.  The lightning, he was pretty sure, was under Thestus' domain, and if he were to stay still, he would be fried.  But constant movement was starting to strain his fuel reserves.  He had to end this quick. 

Looking upwards, he saw the wyvern above him, its large wings unfurled and beating slowly as it watched it's prey below.  The dark clouds acted as camouflage, masking most of its features.  As it dove towards him with an angry roar, the red eyes and the fiery maw stood out.  As did the yellow diamond on its chest...

Hara leapt away as Thestus' claws slammed into the mountainside, taking to the skies once more.  Twisting and turning, trying to evade the beast below, he ducked under its head and, grabbing the hilt of his blade tightly, drove the blade into its left wing.  Dark blood erupted from the wound and Hara had a brief moment of exultation before, with an incensed scream, Thestus' teeth closed around Hara's new leg. 

He felt himself slam, back first, into the ground again.  Thestus reared upwards, readying to strike towards his downed foe.  In that moment of desperation, Hara sat up and sprang upwards to meet him.  Narrowly avoiding the bite that would end his life, he drove his blade towards the diamond on Thestus' chest.  He felt the blade connect and with a tremendous flash of lightning, he was thrown backwards. 

For a moment the world was in chaos.  Lightning emanated wildly from the bewildered wyvern, a torrent of light piercing the darkness.  Thunder like the very fabric of reality torn asunder seemed to pierce him to his core.  Somewhere, a scream of anguish rent the air around him and Hara was reacquainted, headfirst, with the side of the mountain once more.

When he came around, Hara leapt to his feet, blade at the ready.  The sun was shining and he could see the curvature of the world on the horizon.  The view would have been, in any other circumstance, breathtaking, but, as a hardened soldier, Hara knew that every second without sight of his enemy was a distinct disadvantage.  Turning, he found the wyvern hunched over the remnants of the gem on the edge of the crater.  At the sign of movement, it looked up and Hara felt its gaze fall upon him.  Hara raised his blade and waited.  The voice caught him by surprise, coming from within his own head.

"Killing me is not enough for you it seems.  You are cruel to destroy the last link to my departed sister."

"What does it matter to you?  You'll be seeing her soon," Hara spat, suddenly angered by the hint of sadness in the god's voice.  Who was he to expect sympathy in the midst of an attempted murder?  He leapt once more into the air, and raced up the side of the mountain,  Dodging the snapping wyvern, he flew up, turned, ready to strike...and realized with horror that his fuel had run out.  Giving into gravity, Hara fell, blade downwards, towards the crouched beast below.  He could almost see a smile on the wyvern's face as it turned to meet him, pulled back, and unleashed a geyser of flame.

The fire engulfed him completely.  The Vector offered him no protection, though it should have. Burning, screaming, in indescribable pain, he fell into the throat of the beast, piercing the flesh within.  He couldn't think.  The pain was overwhelming.  But it wasn't just his own.  He felt Thestus inside him, the agony of the dying god threatening to consume his very being.  The carcass of The Great Wyvern, with the last son of Thestus within it, hurtled into the heart of the volcano.  

Hara was trapped inside his own head.  He didn't know where he ended and Thestus began.  In some way, he felt like the real battle was only just starting.  He couldn't feel anything anymore - the brief, yet intense, suffering of the flames were strangely missing.  Instead he felt threatened to lose himself in eons of memories.  He could suddenly see it all.  Across all time and space, the fires called to him.  From the birth of Agraea, to the end of creation, across the universe, everything was made plain to him.  And it almost drove him insane.  Fire was everything.  The flame was all there was.  Every lick of it called to him, every tendril summoning him.  Consumed, and undone, flashing throughout time, existing everywhere and nowhere at once, Hara O'Ans would have been lost...if it weren't for screams of a friend in need, pulling him back to his own.

He had a moment to register Aela's cry.  The wyvern was gone, replaced by the broken body of Thestus and his human form, upon which Hara now stood.  He somehow felt her then, fallen before Namala, who was closing for the kill. In a flash of rage and flame he was gone, and, for the first time in centuries, Mt. Otun came to life.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. X)

"Hara O'Ans," He stated, his voice dripping with disdain.  This doesn't seem like it will end well, Hara thought.

"You must be Thestus."

"Lord of Flame, the Great Wyvern, Father of the Horde...Yes, I have been many things, Thestus the first among them."  Hara watched him carefully, taking in the sight before him.  Thestus did not show his age as readily as his desert-bound sister.  Broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, he stood a head taller than Hara.  His unruly, black mane showed streaks of grey as it tumbled towards his waist and, like his sister, he was adorned with jewels, including a peculiar diamond upon his chest, which looked to Hara to have lightning seemingly trapped within.  Eyes of molten red narrowed in his direction.

"You spoke with my dear sister," Thestus boomed.  It was a statement, not a question.  "I take it you have come to claim the full realization of your Gift."

"Err..." Hara hesitated.  What exactly was this gift, he thought.  He hadn't been exactly clear on that to begin with.  The thought had slipped his mind in the frantic search for a way to contact his comrades.  He decided that truth would be the best course of action.

"I'm not here for that.  The Gift...I just want to get back to my friends," he said, hoping to pacify the rage he could sense was brewing behind the clenched jaw.

"Don't play games with me, boy," Thestus growled, spitting out the epithet.  "I can feel Eidnar's touch on your soul.  And the only time my children ever returned to me was to collect on what they thought was owed them.  Your people left centuries ago, and I thought I could die in peace.  Now you have returned, as your lot invariable did, needy and entitled."

"I'm not sure I understand, Thestus." Hara began, but was interrupted.

"DON'T LIE TO ME, CHILD," Thestus roared and Hara barely had time to draw his blade and meet the razor sharp sword that had been fractions of a second from sinking into his neck.  Despite his age and size, Thestus was blindingly fast and Hara had to rely solely on instinct to block his attacks.  The Vector HUD was useless to him, seemingly malfunctioning at such a critical time, but Hara had always considered his instinct to be superior to any real-time analysis that the suit had provided.  His rise through the Academy had been, in large part, due to his fighting prowess.  And yet, even with his natural ability and years of training, he found himself hard-pressed to keep up.   Finally, a chance - he locked his blade with his opponents on an overhead swing and swept Thestus' right leg out from under him.   Thestus bellowed and, as he dropped to his knee, released his blade, grabbed Hara's torso, and with tremendous strength, hurled him over his head.  Hara had barely enough time to register what had happened when he found himself face down, several yards down the side of the mountain.

"You fight well, Hara.  Better than your last relative who came up to challenge me."  Thestus rearmed himself and pointed the blade down in Hara's direction.  "You may yet acquit yourself with honor.  Come and end my misery."

"No," Hara replied, getting to his feet and planting the blade in the dirt.  "I'm being honest with you Thestus, I have no idea what this is about.  I just want to go find my friends.  And I could use your help."

"For eons I have tended the Flame.  I willingly ignited the spark in lowly men that made them into worshiped heroes.  I brought forth this very mountain, adding my own brushstroke to the masterpiece of my father.  I did everything I could to help your petulant people as he would have wanted.  I provided safe haven, kept enemies at bay...I had to even kill my own sister to ensure your survival."  As he spoke, the diamond on his chest seemed to glow even brighter.  The sky started to darken and thunder rumbled.  Hara reached for his blade and he thought he felt the ground itself shake in response to the call of the heavens.

"Despite all my service to you and your people, they left me, me and my siblings.  Left us to die with this world that we had sworn to guide, to care, all for you.  And now you have returned and I will not be left behind again, Hara O'Ans.  Today this farce of an existence ends.  I will not let you leave, I will not help your kind any longer.  Your people were born of Agraea.  You will kill me and you leave it to die, as your people have.  And if  you fail, I will ensure that your corpse joins those of your forefathers in feeding this great mountain."

Thestus rose into the sky and the rain started falling in earnest.  Hara tore to blade from the ground and raced up the mountain side, but Thestus had disappeared.  And then he heard it, a deafening roar that shook him to his very bones, a sound that he felt within the fiber of his being.  Lightning struck the stone ahead of him and, momentarily surprised, he fell to his knees.  He heard, rather than felt, the gust of great wingbeats behind him.  Heaving himself to his feet, turning, blade held aloft, he beheld his foe.  Obsidian scales, a gaping maw, the size of the lander with red eyes of malice.  A diamond of pure lightning etched upon his chest.  The Great Wyvern had come for the kill.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. IX)

When Hara awoke he felt refreshed, momentarily forgetting the events that had led him to a desolate city at the base of a volcano, far from his comrades.  The memory returned as soon as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and he sprang to his feet, surveying his surroundings.  His first observation was the striking serenity outside.  Sunlight streamed through the windows into the room around him, illuminating the dusty air.  He was in what seemed like a lobby of an old corporate building.  Faded lettering and images painted onto the interior walls gave him the impression that this was an old mining company.  He grabbed his helmet, and with one hand on his blade, stepped cautiously through the wreckage of the window he had obliterated on his way in.

In the steel forest that was the city around him, the downed building had created a meadow.  The sun caused the twisted steel rubble strewn throughout the street to glisten and shine.  Hara held a hand to his brow to shield his eyes as he looked around him.  The wreckage was rampant throughout the rather broad thoroughfare, with the bulk of the former facade blocking the gate through which he had entered the city.  The building across the street gaped at him, its innards exposed to the elements for the first time since its construction centuries ago.  Hara could spy furniture befit an office building in what remained on the higher floors.  Donning his helmet, he rose steadily, parallel to the office building, visually documenting the evidence within.  Under different circumstances, he would have marveled at the history at display, and fully appreciated the singular experience that this morning had provided.  This morning...

"Damn." He turned quickly and rose up to the roof of the building he had spent the night in.  Landing, he looked out at the rest of the city.  The volcano loomed, a vigilant guardian, towering like a titan over the city.  From what he could see from changes in architecture, the city was divided into three rings.  He was standing atop the tallest building in the newest portion of the city, he supposed, among other skyscrapers and rather large buildings.  Further into the city was a second zone, a relatively modest region with a blend of architectural patterns.  At the very base of the mountain, he could discern structures made of a pure black material, shimmering in the morning light.  Turning, he looked towards the desert in the distance.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Hara was starting to feel quite worried.

He was supposed to be back to base by sundown.  Missing a direct order from D.D. was not something Hara had made a habit of, and furthermore, was not something that the former would allow without substantial consequences.  Checking the log, he found an even stranger anomaly - he hadn't been hailed at all, not once, throughout the night.  Complete silence was an oddity for certain.  Something was wrong.  He tried immediately to hail Aela, and, failing that, to reach out to Arturi or Sofia on board The Sabre, but nothing connected.  The silence around him suddenly weighed heavy, disconcerting and worrisome.  Hara ran another diagnostic on this suit, hoping to find an issue with the communication system that he could easily workaround, but nothing seemed amiss on that front.  What he did find was disheartening - the backup solar generator for the jet pack had taken the brunt of the lightening strike that had brought him to his knees, leaving him with only a few hours of fuel, not nearly enough to return to camp.  He had figured on having the solar generator to take him through the desert, but at this rate, he'd have to struggle across the dunes on his feet.

Taking stock of his surroundings once more, he turned towards the peak.  What had the lioness told him?  That her brother, Thestus, was waiting for him at the volcano.  Perhaps he would be able to help him out of his mess and bring him back across the plains to the edge of his domain.  Hara sighed.  This was insane, he thought, that he would consider wasting what fuel he had left to summit a mountain in the opposite direction of his goal.  And yet, he did feel a strange pull towards the peak.  Something seemed to call to him, the fiber of his being and he knew then that he had to continue onwards.  Besides, he thought, he would be on the highest vantage point in the region.  What better place to survey the land and see how he would proceed?  And maybe he could overcome whatever communication barrier existed if he got to the top of that volcano.  Thinking that he should move quickly to get in contact with his friends sooner, Hara decided to bet on the volcano.

Hara jumped from the rooftop and glided, conserving his fuel, deeper into the city.  Landing lightly on the main thoroughfare, he retracted his wings and looked around.  This part of the city was approaching the second region that he had seen earlier.  A mixed residential and business sector by the look of it.  Old vehicles lined the streets, and things seemed neat and orderly, as if somebody had taken great care to arrange his surroundings.  Faded adverts and banners streamed from overhanging fixtures, jutting off the side of old multi-story apartment buildings and corporate offices.  Hara could make out an old symbol on a few of the facades and banners, the volcano surrounded by several, seemingly tribal, markings.  As he proceeded along the street, the mixed sector gave way to some neighborhoods, of olden, modest houses.  For a brief moment he considered entering one of the households, but, remembering the somewhat time-sensitive nature of his current predicament, Hara moved on.

After some time, Hara reached yet another gate, mirroring the one he had seen the day before.  This gate, and all the structures beyond it, however, were made of a dark, glassy substance.  Obsidian, he realized, as he reached out to tap his glove against it.  Proceeding cautiously through the gate, he continued to venture further up the now heavily sloping landscape.  This part of the city was quite old, he decided, older than anything he had ever seen.  The architecture was unrecognizable, the material was exquisite.  And somehow, it had all remained preserved, despite its fragile state.  Treading carefully, he meandered through the ancient city until he reached an ornate gateway, guarded by two obsidian wyverns, next to a rather large castle.  Here, Hara paused to check the time.  Two hours had passed since he had woken and he felt the pressure of time upon him once more.  Forgoing his curiosity to look around the castle grounds, he passed underneath the arch, and headed further up the volcano.

The climb was an arduous one, and he often took the easier route by flying for a few minutes at a time when he needed a break.  The ancients had left a rudimentary path to follow along the mountain, but it had fallen in to disrepair, which Hara had found quite odd.  The city below him had been, somewhat, pristine and well-preserved.  He thought back to what the lioness had told him.  If these beings were indeed gods, they had become glorified care-takers in the absence of the ancients, the ones that had fled Agrea, to establish the Corangean Empire among the stars.  Since then, everything was seemingly untouched by time.  Thus, he reasoned, this path must have fallen to disarray long beforehand.  This realization did nothing, however satisfying it was from an amateur historian's perspective, to assuage the great pain with which he traversed the mountainside now, climbing over obstacles and slipping and falling, occasionally, down the flank, only to waste more fuel making up the lost ground.

It was in this exhausted state that Hara came to the end of the path, to a rather flat region near the summit that seemed to form a ring below the crater.  He sat to rest for a moment, overlooking the region around him.  He could see the desert in its entirety, including the mountains to its far northeastern borders.  To the north, he could see the jagged crags of yet another mountain range.  The sun was high in the clear, blue sky and illuminated the whole of the domain below.  It was certainly a beautiful sight, one that he was sure to document in the record through his visor.  Feeling a second wind, he stood and turned to face the crater.

It was then that he noticed him.  A lone, solitary figure at the edge of the crater, looking down at him.  Hara flew then, without hesitation, rising to his level, landing a few yards away.  The man spoke to him in a deep, contemptuous tone.

"So...you have come at last."

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. VIII)

Turning away from the desert and its clear, blue skies, Hara faced the open plains. The grasses swayed before him, untamed, taller than any man.  Jumping into the skies, he flew lazily towards the distant mountain, trying to catalog as much as he could about the grasses below.  They seemed to be some sort of wheatgrass, Hara surmised, reminding him of his father's old greenhouses.  He found a small clearing in the plains and landed briefly to collect a soil sample, packing it securely into a compartment on his hip, along with a sample of the surrounding flora.  The first raindrops started to fall on his face then, and he stopped to breathe in the earthly, humid air.  Donning his helmet (which he thought was prudent), he continued his journey.

The mountain in the distance became incrementally larger despite his faster pace, a testament to its enormity.  He was checking the fuel gauge when something on the horizon caught his attention.  Hara stopped dead in the air.  Glittering.  Glittering that was familiar, at the base of the mountain, that could only mean one thing.  Buildings.  It was then that realized that he had seen cityscapes on his descent, but hadn't fully appreciated their significance.  Actual cities!  He sped up towards the mountain then, caught up in the excitement of his thoughts, not heeding the sudden ferocity of the storm that raged around him.  Hara wondered what artifacts of his temporally far-flung forefathers he would find.  A city would be huge for the Archives, he thought, grinning to himself as he pictured the look on the Author's face at the various items he could bring back to him.  He approached the city from what looked like the main entrance way.  He landed gently before an ornate gate, and was admiring what architecture he could see through the torrent when the lightning struck him.

He cried out as he felt the surge of power flow through the suit, bringing him to his knees, his arms outstretched.  The Vector was locked momentarily, adjusting to the sudden input.  Hara knew that, theoretically, the suit could handle a large influx of energy.  He just didn't know how long it would take.  He felt the suit relax and he hunched over breathing hard.  The force of the strike knocked the wind out of him.  He remembered back to his jump into Krypia, when pummeling through the wreckage of a downed ship had made him felt like the bones in his body had shattered.  This was somehow worse.  Rising to one knee, he shook his head and made to stand, when a second strike hit the arch in front of him, causing him to duck.

He swore to himself and tried to hail Aela, but the suit wasn't cooperating.  The sudden peal of thunder nearly drowned out the sound of his own thoughts.  Throwing caution to the wind, he sprinted through the arch into the ruined city beyond, a task made more difficult by the howling winds of the encompassing gale.  He barely had time to register surprise at the winds overcoming the relative stability of the Vector when, with a flash, a bang, and a tremendous groan of surrendering steel, the facade of the building beside him came crashing down.  He flew laterally, crashing through a window of the building across the street, tumbling through the wreckage of what seemed to be a lobby of sorts, to escape the impending collapse.  With a thunderous, earth-shaking fall, the building outside crumbled.

Hara held his breath waiting for the lightening to strike again.  Outside, the storm raged on in a deafening downpour, limiting his vision to the lobby around him.  After what seemed like an eternity, Hara decided that the worst had passed.  He cautiously removed his helmet, and took a deep breath.  He sat himself in a far corner, a vantage from which he could survey the whole lobby and sat in a state of constant vigilance.  The Vector seemed to be a little rough around the edges, but still fully functioning.  The diagnostics of his person came back fine, although he still felt sore from the blast of lightening.  He settled in, watching for any sign of movement, a hand on his blade.  For hours, Hara waited and watched, thinking of Aela, of the goddess of the desert, and of the seemingly sentient lightening.  All the while, the rain fell steadily, and before he realized, Hara fell into a fitful sleep, jolting awake at the sound of distant thunder, only to drift off, lulled by the patter of the rain around him.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. VII)

Startled, Hara whipped around, his helmet dropping on the sands, his blade out and ready to strike.

The woman in front of him stood still, watching him.  She was as tall as he was, willowy, with bronze, weathered skin, and silver, waist-length hair blowing in the gentle breeze.  She wore no clothing, but was adorned with various bracelets, anklets, and tattoos that Hara noted looked quite ancient.  Her most striking feature, however, were her eyes, which were a solid golden hue, matching that of the pendant that rested upon her chest.  She spoke with a familiar voice, encapsulating and enchanting.

"It has been a long time since the Children of Corangar have even set foot upon this world, let alone dared to breath its sweet air without protection."

Hara stared, not knowing what to say.  She started forward, and, reflexively, he raised his blade.  She smiled reassuringly.

"I mean you no harm, Thestian."

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he asked, taking a step back.  He needed to make sure he kept a safe distance from her, he thought, as he tried to analyze her offensive capabilities.  Thunder continued to rumble behind him.

She cocked her head to the side.  "Have you forgotten your roots, Child?  I suppose it has been quite a long time to your kind..." she trailed off, seemingly lost in memory.  Hara waited a moment before pressing the question.

"When did you come here? When did you leave Nykna?"

She looked at him then, her eyes gently narrowed in curiosity.  "Whatever do you speak of, Child?"

"You are a Daughter of Nykna, right? When did you arrive on this planet?"

She seemed amused at the inquiry.  "I know not of what you speak, Hara, Son of Thestus."

"How did you -"

She paid no mind to his question, speaking over him.  "I have always been here.  My father was here, he was the beginning.  Your kind came next, but were nothing before me, and my siblings.  I had older brothers and sisters, and younger ones too.  And we have been tied to the fate of this world since its inception.  Time has been cruel.  We strayed from our purpose, fought and bickered.  Shepherds, turned wolves.  In the end, you all left, but we remained...and are not long for this world, I'm afraid," she sighed.  Hara realized that she had moved closer to him as he had stood, transfixed by her ethereal figure and her divine voice.  He hesitated a moment and sheathed his blade.  She nodded her approval.

"So you are not an alien?"

"I am of Agraea, forever and always."

"Agraea?  That's what this place is called?"

"This land," she gestured, opening her arms to indicate their surrounding.  "Shaped by my father, at first.  And then by us, in an age of old."

"Shaped?"

"We made the land as it is, Hara.  My brothers and sisters and I.  The desert is my domain, and has certain bounds.  The mountains to the north do as well.  As does the influence of that volcano you find yourself so drawn to," she said, walking past him.  He turned to find her staring at the rainclouds showering the lone mountain and the surrounding plains.

"You made this land?"

"Yes."  They were silent for a moment, watching the rains fall on the plains.  He felt a strange comfort in her presence.  A contentment.  Now that she was closer, he could see how thin she was and could sense her age.  He would have been happy to sit in silence for a while, but he had one other question on his mind.

"You keep mentioning that I'm a 'Son of Thestus.'  What do you mean?  My father was a scientist on a far away planet."

"But he is of a lineage," she replied, finally turning to look him in the eyes.  "The mountain," she said, raising a gaunt arm to point.  "It calls to you because you and your blood are of it, of The Great Wyvern.  This is why you are here, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your kind fled this world.  Why you left...does not matter now.  Where you disappeared to, we did not know.  Those of us left, we tended to this world as best we could, but without you, we are lost.  Left to decay.  We thought ourselves eternal, but now we find ourselves ephemeral.

"But you have returned now.  And within you I feel the Gift, and my brother's touch upon your very fiber."  She placed a hand on the chestplate of his suit.  "You have returned to take up the mantle left behind by those who took to the skies.  For that I am grateful, to know that we are not forgotten."  Hara kept silent, not knowing what to say, not wanting to ruin, what he sensed, was her last shred of comfort.  "Be warned though, Child.  In old age, Thestus has gotten quite ornery."

She started to move away, back towards the desert.  He called after her, and she paused.

"Won't you come with me?  I...I don't even know your name," he admitted, sheepishly.

The woman turned, with a sad smile on her face.  "I cannot leave this land, Hara.  This desert and I are bound.  Safe travels, Child."  Before he realized, she had disappeared, and before him was the gaunt lioness.  Turning tail, it disappeared over a sand dune, leaving Hara to his thoughts.

The Outsiders: Year Three (pt. VI)

"What the hell was that?" he asked, raising this voice to be heard over the shower.  The steam that had escaped when he had opened the door started to fill the room again.

"What was what?" she called back, nonchalant.  He ripped open the curtain and immediately regretted it.  He caught her smirk as he turned away, balling his fists.

"You know full well what you did.  That...that wasn't..." He tensed as her warm hand touched his shoulder and she embraced him.

"I sensed that you needed to relax, to take your mind off of things.  Where I come from, this is one such...method to accomplish that.  Unless I'm mistaken, it was something you wanted too...right?"  She sounded worried, he noticed, and he exhaled to steady himself, shrugging out of her arms.

"I...look, that isn't the point.  You manipulated me.  I was -"

"- I did what I did to comfort you, to make you feel better!" she interrupted.

"Comfort?!" He whipped around suddenly, engulfed with rage.  "That wasn't comfort!  I opened up to you, I was vulnerable, and you took my feelings for you and you did that thing," he gestured wildly at her eyes, ignoring the shock on her face, "and you took advantage of me.  How the hell is that comfort?"

"Hara..." she started, tears swimming in her eyes.  "I...I didn't mean to, I just...I wanted to make you feel better.  I thought we were..." She reached out, but he pulled away.  The anger was probably misdirected, he thought.  He hadn't had an outlet for it since he left the Institute, and it was likely tainting his reaction.  Try as he might, though, he couldn't let it go.

"Look.  Honestly? I do care about you.  But you didn't need to convince me or whatever you did.  That was a breach of trust.  You should've just...asked? I don't know, anything but what you did.  You...Aela, its just, maybe we shouldn't take this any further."

To her credit, she only looked stricken for a moment.  Ever the consummate soldier, she composed herself in an instant and, her jaw set, nodded.  "Shower's yours, O'Ans," she said, stepping past him.  "Best make it quick; D.D. is expecting us in 20."

He sighed, alone with his thoughts.  He did the right thing, he told himself, as he showered.  It was wrong of her to do what she did.  Sure, he did want it, want her, but that was not excuse for taking advantage of him.  The devil's advocate in his head, however, begged to differ.  Maybe he should just explain that he hadn't meant it, that he did want to be with her, and maybe he was overreacting.  He could feel the indecision gnawing at him as he got dressed.  Why did he feel so at odds?  He had thought this was fairly cut and dry.  And yet here he was, feeling guilty.  Absolutely absurd, he reflected, as he crossed over to the lander.  Aela was inside, armored up, her helmet on and visor darkened.  She didn't say anything as he walked past into the deployment bay.  He donned the Vector suit, ruminating on the events of the previous night.  As he finished suiting up, Hara had made up his mind.  He decided that he wanted to talk to her while they looked for the Mirzaj.  When he stepped outside, Aela was standing with D.D., who turned as Hara approached.

"Well, O'Ans.  It seems you've convinced Arturi that you need to go on a scouting trip."

"Oh," Hara replied, caught be surprise.  He had completely forgotten his separate objective for the day.  "I guess I have."  D.D. continued speaking.

"O'Ans, you will search as you please.  I expect a return and report by sundown today.  Yokan and I will continue with the primary objective due east from camp.  Any words for him before we depart?" D.D. asked, turning to Aela.  Her visor remained darkened and her voice was cold in reply.

"None."

Hara could see D.D. raise an eyebrow, but he didn't address the issue.  Hara saluted and headed for the exit.  The talk with Aela would have to wait.  He had a job to do.  Leaving the camp, he walked several paces east before igniting the jetpack and jumping straight into the early morning air.  Wind readings reported a relatively calm day, with winds from the east.  That should help with fuel, he thought, as he turned westward, flying towards the last sighting of his mysterious lioness.

Half an hour in, Hara realized that he should have given this search more thought.  The desert stretched, seemingly endlessly, all around him.  Without a single lead to follow, he was just burning fuel.  It didn't help, he considered, that all he could think of was getting back to Aela and setting things straight.  Hara rose, preoccupied, even further into the sky.  He could see to the south, on the horizon, the dormant volcano that he had flown by on his way to his comrades.  He felt a strange pull then, towards that lonely peak.  He had seen it last night in his dream.  Hara could hear the voice faintly echoing in his head.  Otun, it had been called, back before the Empire had arisen, when the gods and goddesses still held sway on the land.  

"Where are you?" Hara muttered, moving slowly towards the mountain, scanning the land below him.  He had no doubt about the owner of the voice in his dream, or the source of the dream itself.  Arturi had mentioned that the lioness was an ancient alien, capable of things that normal people were not.  While dream projections were somewhat peculiar, Hara had seen enough oddities among his travels in the universe to not be too concerned.  Still, this being would be a powerful one, and one that he would have to be careful around.

He wracked his brains as he dipped downward, meandering towards the mountain, skimming the dunes.  What else had he gotten from his dream?  There were a couple of names on the tip of his tongue, ones that he felt might have vital import to his current mission.  He mulled it over as the peak grew closer and closer.   Without realizing it, Hara had come to the edge of the desert.  He landed lightly and checked his HUD.  Enough fuel to lap around the volcano and get back to camp in time.  Taking a short break, he looked at his destination.  The mountain was framed by dark clouds, threatening a torrential downpour.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  In stark contrast, the sky behind him was bright blue, the sunlight assailing the dunes without reprieve.  He thought for a moment and hailed Aela.

"What do you want?" came the reply, through the static in the link.

"I was just wondering if we could talk," he replied, staring into the distance.  It had started to rain heavily, south of the volcano.  The tall grasses of the plains swayed violently in the wind.

"If you don't have anything on-topic to say, I'm a little busy with our mission," she said, curtly.  He sighed.

"Fine.  I'm leaving the desert for the bit, heading southwest of camp, towards the volcano I passed by on my way in.  Just keeping you posted."

"No need to."  She cut the link, leaving him dejected.  He did a systems check and diagnostics came back positive.  Hara had been recording data constantly since departing in the morning.  Environmental data would be particularly interesting to Arturi and to those in the Archives.  He pulled up what he had covered so far and the data gave him pause.  The atmospheric readings looked phenomenal.  He hailed Aela again.

"This better be good."

"Aela, the atmospherics.  Have you read them?"

"Naturally.  Abysmal.  Why?"

"They aren't though.  Not here, at the edge of the desert.  My readings are...normal."  She heard the implication.

"Don't do it."

"Why not?  There's no reason not to."

There was a pause on the other end.  "D.D. says under no circumstances are you to endanger yourself in a such a reckless way.  Don't be so stupid as to think that -" Hara cut the link, rolling his eyes.  He noticed that she was hailing him, but he ignored it.  He was sure that the rest of her commentary would be about the malfunctioning sensors on the Vector, as she and D.D. had been experiencing on and off during their time on the planet.  But the Vector had never let him down, and the small visual issues the day before were substantiated by the very real entity that Hara was trying to meet.  He reached up slowly and, after a moment's hesitation, pressed on the bilateral latches in the rear of the helmet.  With a hiss, his helm disengaged and he gently removed it it.  The warmth of the sun behind him was encouraging and the breeze from the plains was welcoming.  He slowly exhaled and, gambling, took a deep breath in.  For a moment, nothing happened.  And then -

"That was very brave, Thestian."