A beam of light shot through the ever long darkness of the stars. The gleaming spark slowed as it approached a huge planet in the near distance, shimmering like gold in a mass of pure black.
Home to the Monto'Ac Royal families, this massive planet was the largest of all; the crown of the solar system. It was shielded by two sets of giant rings--one vertical and one horizontal--sparkling as if they were divine ornaments from the gods themselves. And perhaps they were.
On this day, Hister was to join the Royal council of Princes for a meeting concerning his family and his fate. The bright orb in which he traveled, a craft made of physical light used by the Royals for centuries, sped forward into the swirling mass of clouds and dust below, the massive solar rings like halos strung over the atmosphere. As his ship lowered into the sky, a bright yellow shine emanated from the inside of the rings, setting the land below ablaze.
Surrounding the dark blue surface, these thick rings encompassed the entire circumference of the planet, cradling from all sides. Their purpose was to harness solar rays from the sun, utilizing organic technology created by the early descendants of the Creators themselves.
Because the Monto'Ac system was centered furthest from the sun, the planet was unable to sustain human life. However, the descendants had envisioned a new way for the planet to not only harvest sunlight, but sustain the the light permanently. The rings themselves had been with the planet for millions of years, and contained many small particles of dust, rock, and other organic compounds. But when sections of the rings were infused with special crystals from the Andacon system, the descendants discovered they could reflect light onto the surface.
Within a decade, they ordered the creation of twelve moons which would ride between the waves of the rings. These moons, which housed huge volcanoes spewing ice, would be pulled by the gravity of the massive planet, and as the ice from the volcanoes spewed into the rings, it manifested reactions with the compounds. This organic reaction with the rings would produce a dust which would fall into the atmosphere of the planet, charging it and attracting sunlight. As a result, the charged atmosphere in combination with the crystallized rings, would pull sunlight into the space between the two rings. As the planet rotated inside the rings, it created a natural day to night cycle.
When the process had finally finished, it allowed the Monto'Ac to build their civilization of Royal families, maintaining their position at the top of the solar system, closest to the gods.
However, in the wake of this progress, remained an argument among scholars and wisemen for generations, especially from those who would eventually forgo the teachings and order of the Royal families. Some claimed that because the planet could not naturally sustain life, the Creators never intended them to be there. Instead, they should have accepted their fate and believed themselves equal. Yet the Royals believed their special treatment was exactly what made them important. They had been selected by the Creators to live this life. And so, with the faith of the masses ever present, order has forever been held over the solar system.
Hister's ship carved through the fluffy purple clouds sleeping over the city, winding it's way around tall, ancient spires carved from stone. The surface of the planet was covered in mostly light blue grass and cold grey oceans, with darkly colored trees and vegetation. There were no major cities and hardly any artificial lights. Only old stone buildings of specific shapes and sizes, built by master architects who followed the traditional ways of construction, passed down by the old empires of the First Age. Nearly all were square or rectangular in shape, with domed tops or triangular spires, resembling courthouses and small castles. Barely any public housing was needed in this place, as only the extended families of the Royals were allowed to live there. They mostly resided in the main city, with a few groups constructing homes at various habitable locations around the globe. Between the scattered complexes, uncharted grass fields, strange flora and haunting black forests surrounded for hundreds of miles.
Most attention was given to their rings, which they treated as literal planetary crowns. Often times, travelers or new comers to the planet would be surprised by the drastic change of environment. From space, it was a wonder to witness. In fact, many photographers of the time would travel here simply to view the spectacle from their ships. But if one were to venture down to the surface, it was as if you were suddenly transported back in time hundreds of years. It was dark, ghostly, and very ancient. During the day it could be hauntingly beautiful, and at night it was cold and dead.
Yet even in the daytime, deep purple clouds would often muddle the sunlight. Tombs and statues of leaders from the past lined the streets. Faces carved into rock pillars stared from all directions. Wild roots and plants grew up through weathered cracks. The street lights were dim blue orbs of fire, lining the cobblestone streets in all directions like a grid. Thick fog rolled in every night from the icy ocean, casting shadows over shadows, and veiling the distant stars.
This was the way of life to the Royals. They were the ever unchanging of all the civilizations. Today they still appeared as they did thousands of years ago, adoring and surrounded with lavish items, armor, robes and symbols of power handed down through countless generations. Real change came only from the attitudes and auras of the individual family members, which were often times violently progressive. A stark contrast to the public, who were a working class that only existed to push commerce and civilization forward in the name of the Royals. They were dedicated, some even passionate, yet they lived their lives much like the statues.
As Hister's orb flew over a set of large buildings set atop wide pyramids, it finally arrived over a landing area, which was no more than a raised, square platform on the edge of the complex. Hister slid out from the borderless opening of his ship, passing through the light as if it were a stream of water. He was met by Royal guards at the entrance, swiftly gliding across the metallic surface to great him. They were dressed in light silver armor with red robes, and held enlarged swords attached to long poles. They flanked him as he strode past, leading him through a wide stone archway filled with sunlight from above.
As he made his way down the bright, silent corridor, the artificial light radiated through the hall. The border of light and shadow moved slow, yet just fast enough to be seen if one were to stand motionless to watch it crawl; as if a finger of god had raised to meet the planet. The echo from his steps began to increase as the narrow hallway gradually shifted into an open room. A set of broad, glossy stairs directed him downward and into a large, circular chamber.
The expansive chamber was one round room with no corners or crevasses, lined with dark wood, white stone walls and red silk curtains draped from the vaulted ceiling, falling into specific patterns like an organized web. In the center of the chamber stood a wide raised platform with nine ornately decorated chairs placed in a row, spanning Hister's field of view as he came to a stop in front of them. They were ancient designs, originally crafted by the hands of artists from another time. Created with traditional dark red trees from the Royal burial moons, and woven into tiny thrones, each with specific ornamental features which represented each Prince.
As Hister stood attentive, awaiting the arrival of his overlords, his gaze fell onto the ninth chair. The chair which once belonged to his father. This chamber would forever haunt him, and for that reason he hated to endure it's energy. Suddenly, the room filled with noise all at once, as doors on the left side of the chamber swung open to reveal a commotion of men.
From the unseen, another parade of Royal guards entered the room. These guards were dedicators from the Twin Empire, adorned in the same silver armor and red silk robes, yet hiding their arsenal of weapons beneath the cloth. Their faces were covered with a white, circular head mask, giving them the fitting appearance of pawns on a chess board. Although the Twin Empire refused to employ foot soldiers for themselves, offerings to their gods in the form of guards for the families became an ancient tradition. Although the Monto'Ac simply treated them like guard animals.
As they scuffled around the platform attempting to maintain order, darkly dressed figures began to stride through them, parting and pushing their way to the center of the stage. The Princes had arrived. Judges and masters of the Royal families, as well as dictators to the solar system. So named for their proclaimed kinship to the Creators, the Princes were the accepted sons of the gods. Yet interestingly, even in this system of hierarchy, neither king or queen was allowed to exist. The Monto'Ac were loyal only to the kingship of the solar system, which they believed to be the house of the Creators. As such, a king or queen figure would be considered sacrilegious, therefor the concept was never instituted into their politics.
Most of the Princes looked exactly the same, with sharp, striking black armor, with inset interlocking gold rings, symbolizing their prize from the gods. They wore hard, molded head dresses which covered their heart-shaped heads with horns, spikes and crafted symbols, all ranging in color. Some were young, vibrant and tall. Others appeared as old men about to find peace. The last Prince to appear was slimy and obese, carted in on a personal platform. Six servants, with wavering arms, set him down at the edge of the stage, grumbling and coughing. They pushed him into his throne as if he were a lumbering mammoth. His eyes sunken, his hair white and wild, with bits of food stuck to his chin and robes. This was the way of the council. Once great, noble men, now they were little more then a vision of the past.
Once all of the Princes were seated, the servants scurried off stage while the guards stepped behind them to keep watch. All went silent again. Hister remained still, his head held high and proud, insulting words he longed to proclaim hiding beneath his thin lips. Finally, one of the Princes broke the silence and sat forward, a displaced grin across his ghostly face. "Hister. My dear friend," the Prince said with a coiling smile.
"Prince Arasi. Always an honor." Hister replied coldly, sensing his false words.
Prince Arasi was the self proclaimed leader of the Royal council. Although the system of Princes did not officially recognize a leader, in the years of this waning system, Arasi had become the most vocal member of the council, and as such was the most recognized. He ruled with no compassion, nor any imagination. "How are you?" he continued. "Tell me of the moons, I've not been in ages." The council chuckled beneath their breath.
Hister leered. "Forgive me, lords," his head bowed. "I have only requested your council for business today."
Prince Arasi raised his hands into the air. "No pleasantries then? We've not seen each other in so long."
"Perhaps if I were not so far away..." Hister retorted.
"We come to this council today," Arasi began, quickly changing the subject. "For what reason? To honor the past? To honor the future? Or simply to forgive."
Hister examined the council. His eyes shifted slowly from side to side, watching a line of bright sunlight from the rings above creep across the faces of the ghastly lords. "I am here to resolve our relationship," he said forcefully. "I am here to find new beginning."
"For you? Your family?"
"I am." Hister answered immediately.
Arasi paused and pondered. "I knew this. As we all did." Arasi looked between his fellow council members. "And I assure you, it is with great pleasure I hear your thoughts today."
"I am sure, and I thank you." Hister struggled out.
One of the other Princes leaned forward to speak. "Though, I admit, we are not entirely sure what there is left to discuss." Hister was confused. "This is a tired effort, and you know that." He claimed.
"Your line is over," another Prince added. "It is final, Hister."
"By no fault of mine!" Hister protested, abruptly springing to life and shaking his fist at the council.
"Meaning what?" Arasi barked.
"It is clear. It was a choice from the gods themselves-"
"Quiet, caretaker! Hush your voice!" an older Prince interrupted. "How dare you speak of the gods, when it was your very life that hindered our existence. You think the gods chose deformation? They chose an anomaly to be born? A conscious choice to dismantle order?"
"The Andacons believe that is the case." Hister countered.
The old Prince stirred angerly in his seat. "This is not the Twin Empire, Hister. That is not our belief."
"Forgive me, my lord," Hister continued, "but the conscious choice you speak of was yours. That seat belongs to me." He gestured to the empty throne.
"That seat is soiled. It will forever remain empty as a testament. And a scar." The Prince concluded. "Order is dictated by the gods. It is our order to follow." He slumped into this throne and fell quiet. "I will speak to this blasphemer no more."
Arasi thought for a long moment, a spindly finger tapping his blue lips. When he felt he had the right words, the leading Prince leaned forward and narrowed his gaze. "Hister," he began, "I understand you. I do." He attempted to assure Hister, but knew his own words were empty. "I honor and respect you for coming before us. But we will not change law. Or will. Or fate. This is our way. It is your way."
Hister scoffed. "And is it the way of the gods to through away their own future?"
"What do you mean?" Arasi inquired.
"It is not their will to turn a blind eye to the future of our civilization," Hister burned with resolve. A heat which made the Princes uncomfortable. "Our Creators were visionaries. They created us because life must exist in their image, under their control, progressing ever forward. The Monto'Ac system is not the crown because we claim it. We earned it. By becoming the most endearing system of all. But look at you," he motioned to the council dismissively. "Forgive me--but look at you! You are a shadow of the past. Stagnant and unchanging. Too long have we been without discovery, or technological advancement. Human advancement. Biological advancement."
"Hister," Arasi halted his speech. "What are you saying? What is this?"
Hister drew in a deep breath. "Lords, I have been working," he stated proudly. "During my...captivity on your moons, I have been evolving and changing my scientific process. I have began my research. I have opened my labs and have been, for many years, discovering new ideas that will surely lead to our continued success. A future of real change, power and security."
"You speak of the flowers?" Arasi said softly, displaying a natural interest. Arasi knew well of the powers that different species of Monto'Ac flowers held. Hister was not the first to research it, but he was the most prominent.
"I do," Hister answered. "But more importantly, I speak of the research that must still be done."
"This is ridiculous." One of the young Princes remarked.
Hister fixed him with a piercing gaze. "This is the future."
"Quiet, boy!" The Prince snapped, his white face wrinkling in anger. "Never speak to us of the future. This chair to my side remains ever vacant because of your tarnished blood. What future is that? A broken system. And you, standing before us, prepared to fix it."
"I have already fixed you." Hister declared. The Princes gasped. "I have paid my due in blood, in time, in my bones!" he shouted, thumping his chest.
"We have no time for this," another Prince groaned. "We must focus on other things."
Hister sighed. "Does the advising of Castor Montrosaur mean nothing to you anymore? My moons have served as not only peace offerings, but catalysts for a strengthened relationship. There is one simple prize the Twin Empire lusts, and you shun the possibilities."
"We shun nothing," an old Prince corrected. "Our relationship with the Twin Empire has always been strong, and it will continue to remain strong forever. This is assured by your cooperation with our laws, not the altering of them. We will not risk change."
"My lords, this is insanity." Hister lowered his head in disbelief.
"Hister," Arasi chimed in, "enough of this. Go back to the moons. Remain the faithful guardian of the dead. Continue your work as law dictates."
"Yes, crawl away back to your tomb." The old Prince grumbled.
Hister seethed as the council chuckled once more. "Fool." Hister whispered, yet loud enough so everyone could hear. A few more gasps leapt through the air.
"What did you say?" Arasi was shocked. No one had dared to speak out of line in hundreds of years, fearful of the certain swift death it would surely bring.
"Fools." Hister repeated louder, his head raising with dignity.
Arasi leaned forward with a sharp finger pointing at Hister's face. "You would dare call us fools in the presence of the gods?"
"I see no gods before me today," Hister stated. "Only mindless dictators."
"Cage your tongue!" the young Prince ordered. "Or shall we remove it?"
"Do you not understand?" Hister continued vigorously. "I only fear what you will become if you shut me out once again. I am certain of this."
"Remove it!" The young Prince rose to his feet, motioning to the guards beside him.
"Remove it, then!" Hister suddenly stepped forward combatively, mirroring the fierce energy. The guards on either side of the stage rushed toward him. "And cut this off too!" He tore a white sash away from his arm to reveal his deformed, claw hand. "Be rid of the disease that spoils me to your dynasties!" The guards grabbed him and held him in place.
"You are the disease," another Prince exclaimed. "The virus!"
"We are done, Hister." Arasi said rising to his feet and preparing to leave.
As all the tired, bothered men began to exit the chamber, Arasi walked toward Hister to acquire the final word. He hung over Hister like a withered tree, daggers in his glare. "The moons are your fate. Accept it." He said with hatred stifling his voice.
"I believe this," Hister replied with cold breath. "As they shall be yours."
On the planet of Eniam, in the floating city of Ogunquit, it was a bright yet cloudy day, with patches of fog lingering around the shore line. The sun struggled to shine through the haze, casting all in steel and grey, outlining all shapes in shadows. In the mist, atop a great rock wall thrust out into the ocean, two figures danced.
The shapes swung and swayed around each other with perfect, precise movements, hopping and bounding over one another. At first glance, one would think local street performers had ventured up to the coast to perform. However, it was simply two familiar friends practicing their arts.
Raymond and Charles leapt through the air side by side, then crashed down onto the stone, rolling along the hard surface before unraveling into strong fighting stances. They rose to their feet slowly, staring each other in the eyes like snakes. With the sounds of cutting air, their hands and arms flashed to life. They batted and bumped their limbs together, blocking punches and parrying blows. Today was a good day for martial arts training. The cool mist clinging to beads of sweat, the sheen of the muted sun outlining the rippling muscles on their naked torsos. Today the crashing of the ocean waves would bare witness to human ferocity.
Most of the brother's free time was spent like this, practicing a divine art that was neither passed down to them, or through them. It was a passion born out of imagination and thoughtful planning. Raymond was first to discover the power of Eunoia, which not only gifted him a wise mind, but also encouraged him to engage in physical training to refine his abilities. He passed this notion down to Charles, and nearly every day since has involved this lifestyle. It was a perfect tool for their line of work, and far beyond that. But unfortunately, due to Raymond's constant involvement with the law, their training was nothing more than fun and distraction these days.
Today, the two brothers had picked one of their favorite spots to indulge. A great rock wall that speared from the shoreline, one mile into the ocean. Along its craggy pathway, fisherman lined up for the catch of the day. Families with small children climbed down to the bottom where the water was still shallow, hunting for crabs and lobsters. Raymond and Charles kept distance from all the local activity, perched high up on a higher section of the wall, careful not to lose their balance and fall onto the jagged shore.
Words were never exchanged while fighting. They remained intense and focused; their minds always in the moment. Yet even more interesting was the way they mirrored each other. Raymond had instructed Charles so well that neither could best the other. A take down was rare. A cut or accidental gash was improbable. Raymond's methods of teaching were perfect, and Charles had the sharpest mind. It was as if Raymond was fighting himself.
Finally, after hours of practice had stolen their energy, the two men locked arms and waited for the next move. Raymond breathed hard, the greyed hair on his chest pulsing, his thick hair pulled into a sleek pony tail. Charles' striking blue eyes penetrated his brother like a wolf. "You're going to kill someone with that stare someday," Raymond said between breaths.
"Hasn't worked yet." Charles replied dryly, unleashing a toothy grin.
In a flash, the brothers unlocked their arms and briskly picked up their weapons from the ground. Both blades were decorative oval shaped swords, with a line of glossy black stone running up the fuller. Raymond wielded smaller, twin blades with rounded tips for slashing. Charles' was a larger staff-sword, with a wide, flat blade built for defense. It could also transform from single handed to double handed with a mechanical hand grip extension, his own design.
As Charles prepared for another round of weapon combat, he was surprised when Raymond simply flipped his blades eloquently, then reattached them to the small of his back. "That's it? You're done for the day?" Charles asked, still ready to fight.
"For today, yes." Raymond replied, turning away.
"I should have imagined. Listen to that breathing," he stepped forward to stop him. "Have we not just started?"
"It was sunrise when we started!" Raymond exclaimed.
Charles huffed. "You used to stay until sunset."
"Charles, listen," Raymond covered himself with a sleeveless, black shirt. "I am not spending my entire suspension with you."
"Nor I with you!" Charles came in front of him and bumped a fist against his brother's chest. "But still, you're out of practice." He unleashed a series of playful swings across Raymond's body, which he easy dodged.
"You speak of yourself," Raymond countered with a coy smile. "See? You're spending too much time in that forest, all by yourself."
Charles could feel another lecture brewing. "I find new ways to train by myself," he placed his sword upright on his back. "That was one of the first things you taught me. Free thinking."
"True. Free thinking, but always conventional training." Raymond corrected.
"Define conventional."
Raymond adopted an optimistic look. "You're getting smarter."
"And so I am, so let us practice more!" Charles moved forward again, still attempting to skillfully block Raymond's path.
"Charles," he studied his younger brother's eager face for a long moment. "It's time for tea," he said, making his way down from the rocks. "And relaxation!" He added.
Charles sighed heavily in disappointment, then gathered his things, threw on a loose shirt and jumped down after his brother. As they ventured along the side of the rock wall, they crossed through tribes of fishermen and families, all the way to the coastline in the shallow waters. The waves lapped white caps against the sharp rocks, yet the sand beneath them was silk-soft and perfect for walking.
"Is Vic still not talking to you?" Charles inquired, walking behind Raymond.
"Not at the moment."
"Have you tried to explain your theory?"
"Of course, many times," Raymond's eyes remained forward. "But she will not hear it. You know her, she will come to her own conclusions. I can do nothing but sit and wait."
Charles hurried beside Raymond. "And you believe it was the Eunoia?"
"Absolutely, without a doubt." He stopped and gazed into Charles' eyes.
"Why?"
"That is what I believe," he replied plainly. "It could be nothing else. If you use it correctly--like I have, like you have and like Vic did--it will manifest." Raymond walked forward again.
"I believe you. It makes sense," Charles continued, trailing behind once more. "It would explain everything."
"We had our moment too," he stopped again and turned back to Charles. "You remember?"
"I do." Charles answered swiftly, immediately recalling the vivid moment. It was just one of many wonderous memories which shaped their very being.
Long ago, when Raymond had finished school at the age of nineteen, Hister had introduced him to the Eunoia flower. Not only did this spark his interest in new planets, but it also rekindled the passion passed down through his parents. However, it was not until both brothers decided to join the Capitol forces that they began to unlock its secrets.
At the time, both were living on the outskirts of the city in a small house by a river. One day in winter, while practicing together on the solid surface of the frozen river, they fell through the ice and began to be swept away by the under current. Miraculously, they not only survived, but punched through the ice like ferocious beasts at the mouth of the stream, miles from their home. The locals claimed they emerged from a circle of boiling water in the ice, bone dry.
It was in this moment Raymond realized the power of what they had discovered. On that day, with the help of his parent's research, Raymond had concluded that after being used, Eunoia must go through an incubation period within the body, and suddenly manifesting when most needed: near death.
The impossible memories flooded their minds as they stood motionless in the ocean, growing shadows beneath the clearing sun. "There are more secrets still to be unlocked," Raymond declared. "This is one thing I know for sure."
Charles nodded thoughtfully, continuing to follow close behind. "I still can't believe they suspended you," he said, adjusting his voice for the wind. "After all of that. What was the point of letting you out of prison?"
Raymond glanced back. "So they could prove to me they still had a tiny glint of a soul left. That's my theory anyway." He laughed to himself as he remembered something. "They offered me a job on the mining council yesterday."
"You?" Charles' face contorted with distaste. "The commander of Solar Warden? That's insulting."
"It does not trouble me."
"You know, that actually might not be a bad position."
Raymond slowed to let Charles catch his stride. "Why is that?"
"I hear the mining council is working on top secret projects these days. Last I heard they were working on survival technology. Something about putting cities inside asteroids."
"Sounds fantastical." Raymond commented, uninterested.
Charles laughed. "Well, what ever you decide to do, just remember they need us."
Both stopped for a moment to wet their towels in the fresh ocean water. Eniam was the only planet in the solar system to produce unique, heavily salted oceans. But unlike the coarse, harsh sea salt of most planets, Eniam's waters were filled with special mineral salt. It was mostly used for natural skin care, but it could also be ingested for powerful physical nourishment, with minimal filtration. In several parts of the solar system, the planet was known by many as the 'salt sea.'
"I do not doubt that," Raymond agreed, wiping his face. "However, they will also never compromise their control. Over us, and over them." He motioned to the families playing in the water by the coastline.
"They don't have control over me," Charles snapped, wringing his towel and draping it over his neck.
Raymond swung his head toward him. "Over you especially!" he proclaimed. "Were you not just in battle? In the heart of the protest wars? Did you not kill?"
Charles thought for a long moment, realizing the deep truth and darkness of his brother's notion. "I have killed." He stated with an air of pride.
"As have I. You watched me," Raymond's gaze dropped solemnly into the shimmering waves. "And now I watch you." The words hung heavy. He stepped away and began walking toward the coast again.
Charles remained stoic and still. "We don't kill without reason, Ray," he called to him.
Raymond stopped and turned to him again. "What do you kill for?" he asked. "Who do you kill for?"
"Who do you kill for?" Charles countered quickly, presenting his brother with the same accusation.
Now it was Raymond's turn to think. Usually, all the answers came easily for him. Yet when faced with his own reality, it was hard to find the right words. "I knew that once..." he answered, looking out to the horizon.
"I see now I have found one thing you don't know. And it is perhaps the most important." Charles strode ahead of Raymond, the choppy waves sloshing under his bare feet.
"Perhaps it is time to readjust our thinking," Raymond replied with a sharpness in his voice.
Charles turned to him with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"
"You will see." Raymond walked past him again.
Charles mirrored his pace. "Is this a secret I sense?" he asked excitedly. Raymond remained silent. "We have no secrets, brother."
"We have some."
"I have none. Include me and let us be rid of this burden." He joked.
Raymond allowed a smile and slowed himself as they neared the coastline. The sounds of ambient beach noise filled the air, crowds bustled around them. He turned to Charles with a hopeful glance. "Do you remember the name Hister?"
"Hister..." Charles repeated. "Fearatu Hister? You're old school mate?"
"You do have the best memory." Raymond's smile grew.
"You saw him? He was here?"
"He was. We met outside a local café here in town before a long conversation. He had looked me up after all these years..." his voice trailed as the weight of their conversation returned.
"It was not a fair reunion I take it?" Charles wondered.
"It was...enlightening." Raymond struggled to express his experience.
"Ah, so that is what ales you," Charles patted him on the back. "What did you discuss that has your mind so distracted?"
Raymond questioned telling his younger brother anything. He was unsure of involving him in whatever was to come. Yet, they were siblings after all, and Charles was right. No secrets were ever kept between them. "Walk home with me. We will discuss this over our break."
The two brothers walked together along the hazy shoreline, wading gracefully through the white waves while the last lingering patches of fog evaporated into the misty air. The city shimmered above the bright coast, as the sun finally broke through the kingdom of clouds.