Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 111: Prime Worlds

Peering over the northern front of the Great Wall, which stood like great mountains overlooking the world, shielded by inscriptions etched into the stone. A nest of armed gunmen stationed over towers alongside rows of large metal turrets poised for combat stood erect beside the young prince.

He stared into the distance at a large floating mass of land. An Island blistering with water endlessly cascading over its edge through the winds and onto his face some hundred miles away. Grass bright as emerald shone a vibrant ecosystem of life, with the rustling of trees and vines intertwining with each other. Winged beasts loomed, spreading their wings and taking to the skies in droves.

"How is such a thing flying?" Ren asked, blocking the sun with her hands to get a better view. She ignored the hundreds of flying cursers docking at its port filled with diplomats and offworlders from neighboring planets apart of the Republic, and some who weren't.

"No idea," Altair replied, blown away by such an amazing sight; he allowed his Neruolink to record it all. "The Mana doesn't seem active, but that could just mean we are too far away to—"

"Really?" A nearby soldier laughed with a slight Southern accent. "You come all the way up here, but rather than compliment its beauty, you try to analyze such a majestic sight?" he glanced at Ren and then Altair. "Bro... if you got any Rizz, you'd get yourself a camera."

"Why? I've got a neurolink."

The soldier rolled his eyes beneath his helm. "Then you got enough money to buy a camera or smartphone, datapad, or holocube. It's about the aesthetic, not the functionality. Women want to know you're taking a picture of them. All that advance shit ain't helping nobody."

Altair glanced at Ren, listening intently with a sparkle in her eye. He'd never really thought to take a picture of anything. He had always remembered everything with near-perfect clarity.

"Why... Why do you care?"

"Southern hospitality." He laughed, lifting his palm to showcase a small golden ring. "Plus, I just got engaged. I'm exploding with excitement." He said when his comlink sparked with static. He frowned.

"The Admiral is looking for Altair." Came the voice from the receiving end. "Send him down."

Altair looked at the soldier and laughed. "Guess it's time for business. Thanks for the insight," he said, heading down an elevator to the ground floor, where a familiar Ensign greeted him.

"Altair... and... I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with your name." Aston Grey said, covered with a fine sweat. He glanced at the mysterious figure of Ren, scratching at his golden blonde hair, a little overwhelmed by the regality billowing of her.

'A royal, perhaps?' He wondered.

"Reina," She told him, hooking her arms around Altair.

Aston wryly scratched at his cheek. "Well, the—"

"I know. So lead the way." Ren commanded, sensing a few lingering presences monitoring them. "Anywhere Art goes, I go... At least until the end of the week. Safety concerns, I'm sure you understand."

Aston Grey nodded and recalled the assault that happened just the other night. "Alright, but it'll be up to the Admiral if you stay or leave." He said and herded the two towards the center of the fort and up towards the highest peak, where the Admiral resided. There, Altair saw two men, their skin blue as the oceans and their eyes red as the lifeblood pulsing through his veins.

"So' too vi," The Prince said in the language of the Taal, stationed on each side of the door, armed in shiny black scaled armor.

The Taals both looked surprised and welcomed the prince's greeting, "Vi te meI." They said, opening the door with a welcoming gesture.

Thel Duvale noted it all, standing upright with a vibrant smile, and offered Altair his palm, to which he accepted. "You know Telsovaku?"

"You'd stand against your government?" Thel creased a brow.

"I stand with the capitalism of my home world. If it has value, then I want a cut." Altair said, careful to observe Vaiga's reaction to such a claim some extremists consider treason.

"Sounds like you seek nobility or at least something along those lines."

The prince smiled. "Yes. Something like that. But true power comes from Genesis. Wouldn't you agree? It's through Genesis that an intergalactic economy was born: Nocturne, Astera, Vilistar, are now all using a singular currency."

"Yes, though some believe this is just an attack by Genesis to undermine..." He paused, taking back by the direction in which the conversation was heading. " Look at me getting off topic." He laughed. " Let me direct aside from your ambition. What value does Orbar get from sponsoring you?"

"You would cultivate a good relationship with me. Unless I die an early death, Transcendence is within reach. There isn't any doubt. Sponsoring me while a high-risk gamble is well worth the price. Seeing as I not only know of your culture but understand your history. I know of your pacifism, bits of your civil discord, and more.

Your planet will gain an ally and possibly a friend. Is that not worth it?"

Thel stared into altairs eyes for a while in silence before nodding. " Orbar will donate 200 sols every week into your account, alongside two Dew of the World Trees. How does that sound?"

***

[241 → 441 sols]

"That was easier than I thought." Ren mused, sprawled out over the bed. " and all he asked was that we wear the insignia of Orbar."

"That is how sponsorships usually work," Altair said, closing his bank statements. "Orbar isn't rich like Earth, but their military is more powerful. However, 200 sols a week might be just what we need."

"We could get more," Ren suggested.

"We could, but I don't like the idea of seeking out help. If corpos like Scorpio want to Sponsor me, then they should come to me. Meet me. Shake my hand. Otherwise, they can forget it."

"Don't you think you're being a little too picky?"

"Not at all. Pride gives the impression of value so that those ravaged by greed may come."

Ren hoisted herself up, grinning with a foxy expression. "Pride, eh? Hehe. You make it sound like you are an expensive piece of merchandise."

" In a sense... yes. After all, who doesn't want the best." Altair said in a teasing breath. Summoning a plack of canvas, a brush, and paint. He closed his eyes, manifesting the image ingrained in his mind of Reina with the floating plateau behind her.

From the High Walls to the nest of seasoned soldiers and turrets to the motion of waves crashing into the shores, Altair brought it all back and, in one swell motion, began his dance upon the canvas, painting not just the memory but the emotion he felt.

Ren watched him for a while before smiling to herself, wondering what had him so focused. She giggled before summoning her cauldron.

And in the silence, they trained.