After the demonstration, Intara goes to the only place in the Umbraculum where she can find silence. Where there is silence, there is peace, and the rooftops of the Umbraculum offer that to her.
In the last few cycles, during her training period, she would often sneak up to the rooftop to behold the city, a scenic view that is similar to the one back at her dwelling. However, Intara's gaze is always beyond to the star-flecked ether of the universe, where she knows her father commands and her brother leads.
But who is she, and what will she become? The question lingers, ever-present in her thoughts, as elusive as the distant stars that scatter across the boundless heavens. An answer as mysterious as the cosmos, where endless possibilities drift just out of reach. It was unknown then, and remains so now—a secret waiting to unfold in the vast expanse of her becoming.
Her fingers outline her Deverra that is branded into her skin.
"Thought I would find you out here, brooding again."
Her head levels. "You always know where to find me."
"Because I always know where you will be. Either training or staring out into the city."
He grins and her worries instantly dissipate; a rare smile easily finds its way onto her face to welcome him. And then she turns her gaze back onto the bustling city. Always full of life, never dull and never.
Intara and Etai stand side by side, enveloped in a comfortable silence as they gaze upon the breathtaking skyline of the city. Towering skyscrapers pierce the midnight like crystalline monoliths, their sleek, angular structures crafted from nanoglass and shimmering alloys. The buildings seem to breathe, radiating soft, pulsing light that dance along their surfaces.
Prismatic flashes flickers sporadically on the edges of glass panels, creating ripples of colour that reflect off the endless expanse of the city below. These bursts of light are synchronised with the flow of energy that courses through the veins of the metropolis, an intricate lattice of power conduits running invisibly beneath the gleaming facades. The tallest towers reach into the stratosphere, their peaks disappearing into the atmospheric haze, where orbital elevators connect to distant spaceports.
The luminescent reflections gleam in Etai's eyes that are a mystical blend of amber light and a rich auburn tint. The fiery colours of his eyes rebel against the staid nature of his raisin colour hair, plaited into three braided rows that converge, tied into a low bun.
"Are you really going to make me ask and beg for you to tell me what happened during your combat demonstration?" he questions, putting an end to the tranquil silence. "You have had to endure plenty but this…. Everyone is talking about it, a wildfire of whispers spreading through the Umbraculum."
Intara normally finds her friend's theatrical embellishments amusing.
Although she will never confess it. But this time, she resents it.
She had desperately held onto the fragile hope that she could simply let the memory fade, dismissing it as a fleeting surge of adrenaline, an isolated moment easily forgotten. She yearned for it to be nothing more than a passing anomaly, hoping no curious eyes or probing questions would disturb her fragile peace. But she is wrong—profoundly so. The past, it seems, would not be so easily silenced.
She shrugs casually in response. "I do not know what to tell you. I was faced off with ten other opponents, they struck me and missed. I did not. One moment, Oraculi Corves was before me then the next, I find him slumped against the wall, a good few metrons from where he stood."
He gapes at her, echoing a bewildered laugh.
"I know you Niblians are strong," He whistles and shakes his head in disbelief. "But that… my old friend, that strength is unheard of. Do you have a robotic arm? Or perhaps you underwent a secret procedure that you neglected to tell me about," he says, beaming a bright smile.
Intara concedes a small smile. Her head shakes a no. "Sadly, I did not."
He glances at her and suddenly his smile wavers and his gaze sinks.
"I was actually looking for you because I need to tell you something…"
Etai avoids her eyes as if seeking refuge from her gaze.
"Out with it then," Intara says without making eye contact. But instead of heeding to his confession, all she hears is a deafening silence, a silence strained with the words that struggle to escape Etai's throat.
"… Or you can torture me with suspense," she provokes. "You know how much that thrills me,"
Etai forces the words out. "I have been chosen."
Intara's face creases as she looks back up at him with a perplexed expression, hoping that her apparent confusion will promote a better explanation.
"A representative from the science and technology guild was sent. The lead pioneers in biochemical technologies and weaponry. They need new apprentices for their new science undertaking, and they want me," Etai enthuses, saying it more to himself, still unable to believe that through all of his overqualified contemporaries. They chose him.
Intara's eyes sparkle with elation. "Then why did you sound like you were debarred? Etai, this is great—"
"I am leaving," he interrupts. "Since it is the science and technology guild…in Korpha."
Her lips ajar, but nothing comes out from it—nothing can come out from it.
She blinks and her gaze slips off him and back onto the city, unable to break through her thunderstruck stupor. Intara always knew that this was an eventuality, but she never wanted to believe that it would one solar day be her reality.
"Oh, well…I suppose I am not the only one with surprises," she stammers.
Etai gulps down the clawing guilt that climbs up his throat.
"When?"
"Within a forttide."
The answer is like a jab to Intara's stomach, thousands more powerful than an energised blow to the gut. She had endured agony, weathering every kind of storm of pain yet the ache of his absence would be a different torment—one to gnaw at her soul.
And finally, she manages a curt nod.
"Etai," she steadies herself. "You have wanted this since you were a progeny and I too have wanted it for you. Go and realize your dream, my friend," she says, injecting earnestness into her words, bounding her sorrow. "However, I warn you, do not dare forget me."
Etai chuckles and beams at her. "To forget you would be impossible, like trying to erase the memory of stars that shimmer so beautifully in the night sky—an imprint too luminous, too eternal to ever fade. And please, Corpus Intara," he emphasises deliberately. "Do not pretend. There is a line of recruiters that can wrap around the Umbraculum, twice, all looking to hire you into their service again. The victory is ours to share. I have but one path, but you have so many that you can choose from."
She observes the glittery metropolis pensively, her mind marinates on Etai's words that echo her father's sentiment that her destiny is her own to forge. A smile creeps on Intara's face and she places a heartening hand on his shoulder. He exhibits his trademark grin and Intara cannot help but mirror his far-reaching smile. She then clears her throat and removes her hand to sternly pat the back of his shoulder.
He straightens his posture and looks back at her interestedly.
"Future Vicar, Etai. What will your first assignment be in this undertaking?" Intara asks, fixing him with a solemn look with her arms folded behind her.
Etai sneaks a laugh. The mesmeric beauty of its beat is heart-swelling as he tries to replicate her grave expression.
He powders on a serious look and formally responds, "I will apprise you of what I know. I think it is a new strategic defence initiative. I know no more than you. But I hope that it will aid in thwarting our enemies. For they need to be put into place."
Her expression crumples into a worried frown.
She lets out a scant laugh, short and scornful. "For a moment, I nearly forgot who I was speaking with." She moves her gaze ahead of her. "You sounded exactly like my brother just there."
An unrecognizable look begrimes his face. "I will be honest with you; you know I am not fond of him. I have tried, but his self-righteous disposition made it difficult. The only thing agreeable about him is his views."
Intara glances at him and the look in his eyes dissolves.
"Views that support the notion that the SFA should be destroyed?" Intara asks, and the judgement that resounds in her tenor does not go unnoticed.
Etai exhales deeply and his eyes close for a moment. "My view is to support amity, but that comes at a price," he says, and his eyes open. "My stance is firmly aligned with justice. Our enemies bear the weight of responsibility for the slaughter of hundreds, both within and beyond our borders—innocent lives extinguished by their hands. No diplomatic custom or peacekeeping tradition can undo what the blade of a heretic has already wrought."
Intara's gaze falters.
"Our foes hinder the path to peace, and we cannot overlook what they have done." Emotion fuels his voice. "When will we react? When they obliterate another city like they did in the Capitis bombing?" Etai's nostrils flare and anger thrums through his veins. "Should we wait for such a catastrophe to recur before we take action?" His expression hardens with an unyielding look.
"So, you want what? For Kairfell to declare war?"
A flicker of irritation. "No one wants a war, Intara." The frown lines on his forehead deepens. "But some sort of drastic measure needs to be taken. Our citizens cannot live in constant fear, under the shadow of devastation and the worlds left to be tormented with this dissention. Something needs to be done."
Intara flings a sideways glance at him. "I think I prefer the idealistic version of you."
His response is reigned to a bitter scoff.
"Well clearly idealism will not protect our realm." He looms closer, radiating righteous anger. "Will idealism serve as a barrier against our foes or a shield to fend off attacks?"
He tries to affect calm, quelling the long-simmering anger.
His gaze softens, impounding his fervour. "I long for amity, we all do. How ironic that they call their alliance. Sovereignty. For. All. But still they have refuted every chance at peace? Dismissing amity settlements as if their objective weighs more than galactic harmony." His face fermenting into an acrimonious look.
Intara's eyebrow quirks. "Then why do they have so many allies: Bamia, Walzar and Erkon. Not to mention the others. Perhaps, they see that their objective is the only path to galactic harmony."
Etai turns to gawk at her with his eyes bursting with shock. "The only—Intara," he echoes, his voice filling the night. He turns his face away as if is unable to look at her and his hand does a furious wipe over his mouth.
"Are you defending them? Those—fiends—those terrorists?" His voice rings out into the star-scattered heavens. "The same beings that are guilty of slaying Bellator soldiers in unprovoked attacks, murdering innocents, only for the reason that they belong to a Capitis realm."
Intara lifts a placating hand. "I would never defend them. But I am trying to understand—"
"—What is there to understand?" Almost screeching, "They are fanatics."
Intara continues evenly. "To understand them is to reason with them. Kairfellians have perished, but so have their citizens," she advocates. "You mean to tell me that they would simply put themselves, their civilians, their forces in mindless peril. For nothing?"
Etai barks out a sardonic laugh. "That is what terrorists do, Intara. They are barbarians. And I am stunned that I have to remind a progeny of a Commander that."
He pauses briefly, as if he knows that what he says next will offend. "From the time that I laid eyes on you, I could see that you were different," he begins.
Intara frowns, already disliking the direction in which he is heading in.
"I believe that your tenacity to defy the norm, to differ, to challenge is your defining trait. But sometimes I cannot fathom how…" He turns to look at her, staring deeply into her eyes, "… How you never cease to surprise me."
Intara cracks into a smile and her chest eases from the tension thawing.
Etai bellows out a whole-hearted laugh. "A progeny of Commander Niblian himself. A descendant of House One." He snorts. "You would think that you would mean that you would be the living embodiment of all that it stands for. Yet here you are. Assuming the role of a diplomat."
He shakes his head at her, amused. "Still trying to find the good in the wicked. To mine for the sense buried beneath the heaps of chaos."
Intara answers with her gaze to the ground, "I simply find it uncanny—if not wrong. That they have so many allies? Many insubordinates look to them, joining them, despite the horrific attacks that they have infringed upon Capitis realms." Her gaze levels with perilous certitude. "None of it makes sense."
The attacks on innocent Capitis cities bellow their ambitions, a testament to their destructive diligence to see the rule of the Priosess come to an end. And for them to relinquish their control over all insubordinate spheres.
Which is something that the Priosess will never agree to. Thus, the attacks will never end.
"I wish I held the answers to the questions that only you ask," he says, teasing her with an impish smile. "All I want is to live in amity, and if I cannot, I want to aid in creating it for those after me. If I ever have progenies of my own. I want them to know a harmony that I can only dream for, but they must revel in."
A soft smile touches her lips. "There is that idealism that I recognize."
He chuckles and glances at the ground bashfully.
Her smile flickers like the twinkle of the stars above. "But how? How will amity ever be achieved? For as long as the Priostry endures, so will those who oppose it."
Etai exhales and shrugs exaggeratedly. "No one knows what will happen. But we can never stop in trying to create a better future, one in which we can all live in peace and leave the horrors of this conflict behind us."
He nods his head upwards, gesturing to the sky, and Intara looks up. Gazing at the ever-changing view that evolves exquisitely with every time she looks at it.