The planet itself, Dyjian, was not sentient. Yet every time the living celestial body shuddered, the time of its expansion was drawing nearer. It was the same as when a woman knows her child is coming by the timing of her contractions.
Dyiij wrapped her ethereal arms around it, as if to comfort something that could not be consoled, and peered into the prison of Prisbeald.
Lucein rolled his Ra'ol stone along his stomach. The cool, smooth surface of the polished rock against his bare belly calmed his nerves. Once again, the hour was drawing near, and he was expecting Gnyovante to send someone to him. He didn't know who, just that there would be someone.
He hadn't had visitors in eight years. Because he was a registered terrorist, his contact with the inmates was less-than minimal. They were afraid of him. The word among them was that he was incarcerated when he was ten for assaulting and killing several Rynaelts after threatening the whole lot of them. Only after he'd been dog-piled by twenty security officers were they able to subdue him.
How else could he have ended up that pretty?
He chuckled. Though his laughter soon ceased when one of the guards, a woman, opened the door to his cell and clumsily staggered in. The door slid shut behind her, and he backed up against the wall. She lurched, one pace at a time, towards him, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
He snatched his pillow — admittedly, not the best weapon of self-defense — and prepared to pummel her to the ground and smother her to death.
She stopped just short of him, opened her mouth, and out of her came a gelatinous mass like sand-colored pudding. That mass snaked through the air, to his bed, and the sight of it pooling on his sheets made him gag.
He dropped the pillow, put his hand over his mouth, backpedaled towards the other wall to get as far from it as he could, then —
"Tsche au." Those fractured, blue eyes.
"T — Tensten?"
"Tsche." He formed on Lucein's bed, a sandy-skinned kyusoa almost identical to their mother. He flung the she-guard off the end of his tail like a discarded rag.
"How — are you able to…?"
It wouldn't have been possible if Sanci hadn't changed while she was pregnant with him. Tensten would have been a regular Dysoa, the kind of kyusoa limited to a single, definitive alternate form. But because she had transformed with him in her womb, the power of aelyth that granted kyusoas the ability to alter their forms permanently destabilized his body.
He ended up with the ability to control his cellular structure and function, making him an unstable life form.
Tensten grinned, shrugged.
"You're right, nevermind that. What news of the outside world?"
"You won't believe what's going on out there." He slid off the bed and got to his feet. He was a towering entity, the epitome of imperfection, rendered beautiful with all his harmonious flaws. He grabbed the dead she-guard by her ankles and dragged her into Lucein's bathroom, pulled down her pants and panties.
Lucein cringed, because his thoughts about what was going to happen next were quite dirty.
That is, until Tensten sat her up on the toilet and positioned her in such a way that she appeared to be taking her sweet time pissing.
"We would have liked to wait another year," he said, "but we need you out of here today." He stepped over to the door. At his whim, his body melted and flattened to the cold steel. The door was nearly air-tight, sealed, and yet Tensten bled through to the other side. About the time Tensten was half way, the door opened with a strained, grinding whine.
Lucein thought it must've been the strangest thing, what it must have looked like on camera, seeing an organism ooze through his cell door. When his brother forced it open, he slipped on his gloves and donned the necklace the Alyi had given him, then darted out.
There, across the cell block on the upper levels was an array of guards, dressed in full armor, black, with their guns drawn. They offered no warning. Just as soon as Tensten took shape, their fusillade turned him into putty.
Except that out of all the Kyusoakin on Dyjian, Tensten was the only one that didn't bleed. The bullets drilled into his flesh, and only mere seconds after they ceased fire did the Tentsen's liquid body lurch.
He was a thing from a man's worst nightmare: a tentacled creature with many grinning, razor-teethed maws. He wasn't ashamed to crush a man, pierce them through, snag them on this talons, and swallow them whole. His body assimilated their flesh, receding from their guns, their armor and clothes. When he finally finished with the lot of them and reformed, he grinned toothily at Lucein.
It was sheer terror that kept Lucein from ducking back into his cell — that and the fact that the door had already slammed shut. "Do you like fire?" he asked.
"I adore it," Tensten said.
Lucein pursed his lips. If fire didn't stop Tensten, what did? More than that, why did he want to know? This was his brother, and as he fell in pace behind him, he struggled to quell disturbing, distressing concerns. "So what does slow you down?"
Tensten shrugged. He stopped. "Why?"
"You… are a deeply disturbing creature."
"I thought I was 'Little Guy' not too long ago."
Lucein grimaced. His ears almost flattened back like the way a kyusoa's do when conflicted. And like he had done in his youth, Tensten mirrored his expression.
Only this time it was genuine.
"I'm sorry." Lucein breathed in, sighed, shook his head. "I didn't think about enemies eight years ago."
Tensten grinned. He stepped over to his brother, whose tension tightened the air around them. He lowered onto his palms, and brushed the top of his head on Lucein's side. "I'd shed my skin for you," he said.
For Lucein, it was as good as a sworn oath of allegiance, because there wasn't time to further exchange gestures of affection. Mere seconds after Tensten touched his head to Lucein's side, he manifested a massive hand and raked gigantic talons through the steel and concrete wall. The exterior ripped open like aluminum foil.
After that he formed wings and crouched on all fours, gesturing for Lucein to hop on.
He did, as his brother's body went from the distinct, sleek kyusoakin frame into some kind of aerial creature unlike anything he'd seen before.
With the shrieking protest of sirens at their backs, Tensten lifted into the air, taking Lucein with him.
Dark clouds rolled overhead, and the scene of the city from where they were was tranquil, save for the prison breech.
The Junction, however, was a whole different matter.
The kyusoakin had barricaded themselves within Ashui-hilo, and several pressing voices filled Ashenzsi's ears at once. He stared down at the pale-faced nijuan, his whole body bleached white because he was dead. That is with the exception of the dark scarlet that blotted his face. The poor boy's forehead had a hole the size of a quarter, and the back of his head was completely blown off.
"You cannot tell me that there will be no justice for my son!" the mother of the dead nijuan shrieked. She almost shrank back when Ashenzsi's jade-green stare shifted from the boy to her.
Indeed this pressed at the fore of his mind. It was only right that the man who shot the boy receive death, as was preferable. But then, too, the ground was trembling, in greater frequency and magnitude. The black clouds had blotted out the sun, and the air was static. Lights crackled among the heavens. What Dyiij had told him — to be prepared to depart at a moment's notice — also took precedence.
"We have no time," he said, flatly. "As satisfying as it would be for me, too, this world is changing. We are at the end of an era. The Alyi has granted us a few moments to secure someone important, and as soon as they arrive, we must go."
"That uunan must die," she hissed.
He turned his back to her, to the lot of them that screamed for payback. "If it concerns you so much that you cause one uunan heartache, you're welcome to stay along with anyone who supports you."
Not all kyusoakin were peace-seeking. There were hundreds of
thousands of kyusoas in Ashui-hilo, and the moment he gave her and the group with her license to do whatever they pleased, tens of thousands rushed out from the boundary that separated Ashui-hilo from the Junction.
The ones that remained in his presence, after the others had departed looked at him with mortified and confused faces.
"Schyiqar," one said, crawling towards him. "Is it wise not to see to the wellbeing of us all?"
"There is no room for hate," Ashenzsi said. "All defectors will condemn themselves, as it is for the unnani, so it will be for the rest of us."
The sky growled, and finally he caught sight of Tensten, who he assumed had come with Lucein.
For the first time in all of Dyjian's history, since the arrival of humanity, to the creation of the Kyusoakin and the years beyond, never was there a single place that all three species gathered without tension. It was with an awkward unity that the humans who wanted to go with Rollond joined the Kyusoakin and Xei-kind. All of them were in the pryuuit, prepared to abandon both it and the metropolis.
Ashenzsi watched his nephew's clumsy flight. Tensten wasn't exactly graceful. He descended hard, and didn't quite judge where to place his feet. He landed with a loud thud as if he had tripped, and skidded forward.
All in all, Lucein didn't look hurt.
"Uncle!" he said, coming to Ashenzsi with his arms open wide. The two hugged briefly. "Where is Gnyovante?"
"He's gone ahead to mark the route."
"Is that wise? What if our enemies follow?"
"That's not your concern," Ashenzsi said. He noted Lucein's odd expression. Then again, he was still a young xei, one who hadn't yet come to know the way Dyiij handled things; the silent, almost imperceptible manipulator of numerous situations. "It's time you made yourself manifest to your people."
Lucein puckered his lips. "Right." He nodded, hopped on his brother's back, and glanced at his uncle.
Together, they went to the far west end of Ashui-hilo.
The ground shook. When Lucein arrived, he didn't dismount from between his brother's shoulders. Tensten arched until Lucein was high enough to peer into the anxious mass of bodies. There were hundreds of thousands of kyusoakin, a multitude of humans, and still more xei, too many to be counted.
His heart skipped and thrashed, until he spotted his father's face towards the rear of the crowd. Ashenzsi had already changed, and Rollond was mounted on his back. As for his mother, he couldn't spot her. He trusted she was somewhere among the lot of them, if not with Gnyovante.
Then he noticed that scores of foreign faces were looking at him. He almost knew what they wanted: who was he; was he of any importance; and what was going to happen next; what where they to do?
So many things raced through his mind that he had to stop to mentally draw up what needed to be said. After a moment of internal silence, he drew breath, and spoke:
"Tonight, we are going to be witnesses of fear-inspiring happenings. I'm not going to sugar coat the truth: all of us will experience terror — if not at night, then by day, because this is not going to be an easy stroll.
"It is the direction of the Alyi that we go west. No matter what happens, do not turn back for anything," he paused, "or anyone. My brother, Gyovante, who you have known, has gone west ahead of us to make sure the way is clear. And I, Lucein, who you may have heard of, will lead you.
"The Alyi has not made it clear what we should expect when we get there. Still, she urges that we go. So come with me, and stick to one another; lets all get there as one."
He turned his attention to the kyusoakin. "Those of you who have second forms, become the creature that you really are. The rest of us will not go on foot." He stopped long enough for the Dy- and Orisoas to transform. Then he continued: "If you do not know how to ride a Kyusoa, now is the time to learn. Once everyone is situated, we head west."
There wasn't a universal way to mount and ride a kyusoa, because there was such a variety of them in their alternate forms that it could be said no three of them were alike. It became a matter of compatibility, who got on the back of what creature. But like he had said, once they all were situated, whether on the back of an aerial creature, or a quick and deft one whom tread land, they departed.
Those Who Remain.
What happened immediately after their leaving.