Standing in front of Jevette was a very angry Luecerrn. It had taken a couple days for Caliguay to catch up to his trackers following the pack that had dropped off Curore. This particular Luecerrn was still a pup, inexperienced and curious, with some effort Caliguay was able to capture and bring it back to his father.
*Thank you for being here.* Jevette said to the animal. *I didn't exactly have a choice.* It uttered a low growl baring it's teeth. It's head was dropped low and all the bushy fur on its back stood up making it look larger than it really was. *I too would have preferred for you to come willingly,* Jevette responded, *I have questions for you, when you've answered I'll let you go.*
*Questions about what?* It maintained it's defensive stance. *The bantling you accepted into your pack.* *You must be talking about that little Mustezo we picked up, what about him?* Mustezo was a slur often used against the tribe Ostrogo, Jevette's tribe, for mating with Phajnoirs. It was an outdated term as the Ostrogo won the war, and united the planet. Was the beast trying to illicit an emotional response to the slur?
*That's an outdated phrase, most of our race has some Phajnoir in it now.* *This Mustezo is unlike your kind, he's made of something different. I can smell it on him.* *Then why accept him?* Jevette asked *He knows his history,* it explained *unlike the brute in the corner he understands the old ways.*
The beast continued, *He came to us, learned our calls just as your ancestors before you, learned our ways, joined our pack. Hunted with us in the wild, lived as the Ostrogo once did.* *I thought you called him Mustezo?* Jevette questioned
*So all Ostrogo were once called, but not anymore. Now they live in great cities, with walls and farms. They're not apart of the land anymore, they own the land.* It glared at Caliguay in the corner. *They have neither fear, nor respect, Ostrogo is a tainted word, we would not use it to describe the Prinsepermiso.*
*El Prinsepe ser permiso?* Jevette asked *The Prince who was Promised?*Caliguay slowly translated then turning to his father confused, *That's old Crajacken father, an old prophecy.*
*Prinsepermiso is dead, he united Crajack just as it was said he would.* Jevette replied The Luecerrn just looked at him *You really believe this is the vision of the future your ancestors held. I'm a captive in a cage, none before you would ever have dared such a disrespect.* *You're a reluctant guest.* Jevette retorted.
Jevette had learned enough for now, they were on a tight schedule, plus the luecerrn had given him much to think about. *Pack him up, we'll be taking him with us.* The animal let out a snarl, *I answered your questions now set me free!* *I will set you free, but first we have to take a little trip to Phajnoir, Lothair may have some questions as well.* Jevette replied.
The animal directed it's thoughts at Jevette, so Caliguay could not hear what it had to say. *That one is full of rot inside, I would not choose him to replace the other, the one that calls to Prinsepermiso. He wants it too bad, he would not be patient about waiting for his time.* Jevette looked at the animal and then looked at his son, but did not reply.
~
Lothair stood in the Observation Room overlooking Interrogation. Tall, broad shouldered, long muscular arms and legs. On the left side his chest, arm, abdomen and thigh were tattooed with a series of dark symbols that stood out against his pale blue skin, the Phajnoir writing style. If you could read Phajnoir they would read blessings to safeguard his majesty.
He wore several gold bands on his arms and ankles, beads were braided into his blue mane and beard. Pointed ears wearing gold cuffs stuck out against the shaved sides of his large head. An ornate circlet decorated his brow. Though very different, there was a slight resemblance to his Crajacken cousin who stood beside him.
Obscured from view he focused his blue almond shaped eyes on the small boy before him, his Grandson. He'd had other children, and other grandchildren. But Curore was special, the only child of his daughter Pjre, a telepath with abilities that superceded his own. He'd been blinded by his affection for her, tried to marry her off to Oshenelle the Pyxan Crown Prince rather than have her lobotomized and sent to the labor fields as was the fate of all Phajnoir females.
Pjre had other plans, she seduced Sorenelle the father to embarrass him before the nation. Then refused to marry Oshenelle, she knew what she was doing, he had no choice but to have her reprogrammed. She didn't survive the operation, leaving only this child behind. This child, all that was left of his favored daughter, a reminder of his own shortcomings as a King. This child had shown no potential to live up to her great name. Until now. Strange, he looked like Sorenelle, and yet something in his face reminded him of Pjre.
*Do you not expect Sorenelle to be offended by our ignoring him at the dock?* Jevette asked his cousin who was clearly not worried. *No more offended than I after finding he impregnated my daughter.* Lothair replied as he continued to study the bantling.
~
Sorenelle arrived on Phajnoir with his two other sons in tow. Ordinarily under no circumstances would all three members of the royal family be absent at the same time.
But circumstances were unique, this would be their only opportunity to meet Curore before his programming. While considered a relatively safe procedure, an element of risk was involved, he felt the boys had a right to meet their brother.
Sorenelle, the Pyxan Jules or King was a prime specimen. Unusually large for his race, his ashen skin paled against his cropped jet black hair. High cheekbones, a thin face with a pointed nose and thin lips. Fiercely blue eyes flecked with traces of gold, the same eyes shared by all his sons.
He wore a black suit with a standing collar, the emblem of the royal household on each broad strong shoulders. He may have lost his wings, but the muscles used to power them remained. On his chest were pinned the many medals he'd earned during his service to the crown, before ultimately marrying into royalty.
Oshenelle walked alongside him, the eldest son, he reached about his father's shoulder. He'd been genetically engineered to mimic his maternal family who were all albinos. White skin, white hair, white wings. Like all Pyxan these powerful wings were a second set of arms. Each wing was twice his body length the long finger bones connected by a thin membrane that grew small white feathers. He carried his wings pressed tight against his back, with the long thin thumbs hooked together at his neck, the fierce looking claw tipping each on display.
Oshenelle had the high cheekbones paired with his mother's pointed chin and small pointed nose. Starting behind his left ear going down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his suit was black Phajnoir lettering.
Hamast the younger brother followed a few steps behind, he carried a strong resemblance to his father, especially at that age. Only taking from his mother's side her slate colored skin and tight black curls. His wings were of a black membrane, the most common wing type, he wore them tightly cocooned around his body obscuring it's appearance.
They were greeted by Tjgre, Lothair's son. He gave Sorenelle and Hamast a formal bow, to Oshenelle he gave a warm handshake that transitioned into a hug showing a familiarity of the two. "Apologies, but my father did not wish to be parted from Curore, I will show you to where he's being kept."
Tjgre had already given his people directions for housing the Pyxan party. The crew, would be housed near the docks so they could watch over the ship, the Royal family in the guest house.
The Phajnoir palace was made of a complex of buildings, there were two main sections, one to accommodate the needs of the King and the other to meet the requirements of administration. Government houses, the prince's quarters, a library, temples, lakes and gardens dotted the campus creating a magnificent residence. Sorenelle had been there often in his younger days brokering an alliance, making him familiar with the grounds. Which was how he knew they were heading for Interrogation.