Sitting patiently on a gigantic pew meant for beings more than three times his size, Sinclair was focused, head down and hands clasped. Camouflaged among a group of worshiping Cizrans, he had no intention to pray himself. Before him was a dangerous tool of destruction that stood almost mockingly in his face as much as it did triumphantly. To Cizrans it was one of many great religious monuments they were unhesitant send their blessings to. They did so by allowing the pillars to drain their spiritual energy. Sinclair on the other hand had other use in mind as he began projecting his mind into the Konul.
The plethora of Cizran voices around him grew muffled by the seconds. All voices were reduced to ringing echoes before vanishing entirely and just like that he was alone.
Slowly, his eyes managed to open. There was nothing ahead of him but a faint dimness shrouded by a purple miasma that protruded everywhere within blackness. He treaded the fog until he came across a dim archway of light. Once entering he was now in the presence of his superior.
When he crossed the plane the word “Ichor” was spoken and echoed through the space but it was not merely a greeting for it was a name; Sinclair’s actual name.
“Ichor, stand tall and do away with that form. No need to masquerade before me” an elder Cizran spoke. He was enormous in size and though he was eyeless he hawked over awaiting action. Sinclair abided, though his facial expression displayed slight grievance. A visitor to this realm he was, so did as was asked.
The opening of an argus number of eyes and the formation of tiny obsidian like scales were the first to reveal itself. Dagger like appendages exploded from his elbows and spinal cord as his physique grew noticably burlier. Despite being very much humanoid esque, Sinclair could never be mistaken for a human under any logical circumstances. In this form it was clear that he was indeed a Gnosis, a race thought to have been wiped out by the Cizrans a little less than a century ago. Reasoning to why he was assimilated secretly into Cizran culture only Silexies could explain.
Leisurely, the gigantic upright scorpion with a complexion resembling that of keystone rose off his throne of Konul stones. Silexies stood about fifteen feet but with a narrow frame. The majority of his appendages deceptively folded across his plated chest beneath his robes. A braided cape of stingers dragged behind him like that of a king’s robe. As he began to speak they unraveled, expanding until they mimicked that of a peacocks train; Many of which curved outwards, floating around the vicinity of Sinclair who stood stone-faced. These were not to intimidate him, only to analyze the warden with greater detail as Sinclair knew.
“You’re are uncharacteristically uneasy, Ichor. I sense uncertainty. You were successful in your task, yet you stand before me as if you have ill news. Brief me on your qualms.”
Refusing to fold, Sinclair assured Silexies his curiosity would lead to disappointment. He truly believed what Eal spoke to him was pure nonsense. And of course, what reason did he give for him to believe him?
“The being I was sent to retrieve is incarcerated and that’s all I have to report.”
“Very well, you stubborn soul. You enjoy making things difficult” Silexies laughed. Despite his playful tone it was clear he was expressing satisfaction noticeably more than he should considering the insignificance of the task. Something about this news excited the elder but it was out of Sinclairs place to ask.
“Did you catch the name of the soul”
“No.”
“Straight to the point as usual” Silexies thought. Sinclair to him was the greatest asset within his possession. He was entirely loyal, yet Silexies knew what Sinclair wanted to do more than anything was to end his existence. He would never dare to cross him however. Call it arrogance or just plain ignorance but Sinclair was around simply because like many Cizrans the scorpion felt he was completely untouchable; and for the most part he was correct. Attempts to assassinate members of the high caste were seen as futile which is why the news of Potan Mul’s passing was such a spectacle. Even if successful there wasn’t much an act like that would do. The Galactic Empire of the Cizrans was too large, too organized and too powerful.
With this in mind, suddenly the elder Cizran’s playful demeanor could be seen as a mortifying reminder to the sole survivor of a race who once served the Cizran’s with honor. The only hope he had of other Gnosis survivors predicated off the fact that they cannot die from natural causes and even then, they would be wise to stay off the Cizran’s radar if they weren’t on the planet at the time it was impacted by Konul strike.
The entire genocide of a race weighed on the Gnosis known as Ichor who was almost too impatient. He abided, maintained and even helped improve Cizran society in hopes of one day finding a lead which would help him end it all but as Silexies knew, that day would never come…
All of Ichor’s eyes focused the elder, intensely awaiting another task he’d eventually have to carry out. His superior was unpredictable and he did not disappoint the warden today as Silexies began his perplexing rant instead of assigning a task.
“Science is often at war with itself. As I see it, the wiser are those with doubts. It’s ok to question it all when the one constant of this universe molds all other variables seemingly at random. What I’m speaking of is chaos of course. It is the true God and I am close to finding the item I desire that will allow me know all leading up to revelation. Then omniversal kismet will be of my knowledge and the Cizrans will bring order to the entire universe until the great end…
“…”
“I received a vision from God that assured me what would be granted to me. You don’t seem convinced. Let me show you only a small reason why you should always be uncertain in all.”
A bevy¬ of stringers whipped forward and began clawing into the air itself between the two. The faster they danced, the louder a noise resembling restless tapping on a thin sheet of metal became. After a few seconds it was clear a rift was forming within the dimension and before Sinclair one of Silexies extensions disappeared halfway into a fold in space. Violently a figure was ripped out before the rift closed and was dropped lopsidedly on the black mirrored floors.
Staggering much, the being rose to his feet. His groggy demeanor suggested he had been somehow sleeping. Slowly he turned to Silexies while yawning uncontrollably. Rubbing the back of his neck in response to his fall he brought his head upwards. When his eyes landed on the Cizran profanity casualty escaped his mouth.
“Fuck.”
It was an accurate abridged summary of his thoughts and it too was inline with what Sinclair was thinking as well for many reasons. The man with his back to him was none other than the prisoner he had recently banished, Eal.
Eal Sermonde had a way for finding undesirable situations. This was no exception. He turned to see Sinclair in his native form and to his surprise he immediately recognized him. “So that’s what you were hiding” he joked despite being in the situation he was in. Intuition told him this was no dream but he did not fear for his life either. What good would it serve them to torture him either? His sense of pain was near none though the Cizrans probably weren’t aware of that.
His deduction skills were not quite on par with his peer Merse but something told him attempting a two on one would not end well for him despite the elder Cizran’s age.
The space containing the three individuals was now home to an almost eerie silence and because of one reason. Silexies uncharacteristically stood bewildered. His expression didn’t say so but he wasn’t quick to speak. He was staggered at the fact that he couldn’t read the thoughts or even the intent of the man he ripped from his dimensional cell. The further he searched the deeper he felt he was drowning in an endless ocean. Someone or something deity like protected this being. Somewhat sidetracked, Silxies wanted to know and so he asked.
“Who shields you?”
It was a spectacle to Sinclair to see his superior stumped. Eal raised a brow; growing smart alecky the second he realized he had some sort of leverage.
“Ahhh, you tried to read my mind. That doesn’t really work on me because my mind is uhhh... how can I say this, like a key to somewhere else. You wouldn’t understand. It’s not like I chose it to be this way but it pretty handy. My spiritual landlord, Noire, doesn’t like unexpected visitors.”
What in the hell was he talking about? With that said however, Silexies deduced some sort of clue to what was going on but he still didn’t know enough. What space was powerful enough to independently exist within an opposing realm an individual like Silexies could manipulate? That was a serious question for another time. He had to focus his mind on his original task however considering he summoned Eal for another purpose entirely.
His most recent vision informed him of a valuable cartographer possibly nearing Cizran parts of space. Afterwards he conducted his research through the Cizran networks and it turns out a record of this individual existed. Considering Eals reputation of recklessness they were bound to meet. It came true but he wasn’t perhaps as ready for the encounter as he suspected.
“What is the meaning of this, Silexies” Sinclair shouted.
“You broke what you yourself identified as a cardinal sin very few Cizrans themselves are capable of.”
Mentally scoffing, Silexies quickly replied to his lash of anger. “I will not be punished in the eyes of god. It is justified. As for you, do not question me further as you are merely a decorated pawn.”
Sinclair’s anger regressed from external to internal. Any physical showings would further evoke the elder’s wrath. For now he’d remain an observer. This is not what he thought he’d be doing at this moment but he did find the situation amusing.
Silexies snapped back from examining Eal’s anomaly of a body. He was done trying to figure out his abnormal anatomy. He brought his large frame down into his throne once more before making his demand.
“Aldaraia...Eal. Bring it to me. A series of visions I had long ago lead me to believe the holy palimpsest had been discovered years ago. It should be floating around space, constantly lost but found again. Your knowledge of the galaxy and considering who you work for makes me think you already have a clue where it is or at least came across it.”
“Why do you even think I know what it is?”
“I am not wrong”
“He’s right” is what Eal Sermonde said in his head but denying only increased the chances he’d get thrown back into a dimensional cell which he honest had many second opinions about revisiting. He was absolutely right. More than Silexies could have realistically known.
“You’re not wrong” is what he’d say but he’d follow with words that would incite the elder Cizran’s rage.
“I recently had the book but I dumped the damn thing on a random planet on the way here… It is cursed. And more than me. That’s pretty hard to do. There’s something wrong with it, seriously. I carried it with me for a month straight and every place I visited turned into a shithole. I wanted to see if it was just me but since none of you folks mentioned it I guess everything is going fine and dandy in religion land. The worst part is I believe something fed of the chaos that brewed around me and was close to manifesting itself.”
“You tossed the holy document aside as mere rubbish…You…will… fix this.”
“I have enough problems as it is though. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with what it was going to whip out next but I suppose it hasn’t moved far from where I left it. I have a hunch things aren’t going too well there.”
Silexies was far from satisfied with Eal’s actions but he did give him the information he desired. The book was within his reach. Now was the time to act.
“Where is this planet exactly?”
“Some place where these gigantic bugs, train for war all day. I don’t remember the name but I can supply coordinates” Eal replied.
“Good. Go get it.”
“Huh? I thought I was a prisoner or something.”
“Well I didn’t say you’d go unaccompanied.”
In that moment Sinclair realized he had been thrown into becoming this detestable human’s transporter. He gave a sigh and once he opened his eyes it was clear he was no longer within the realm that housed Silexies. It was night; all of the worshiping Cizrans were gone. He looked at the far end of the pew to see Eal shrugging. Back to his surrogate appearance, Sinclairs professional demeanor returned as well.
“Put on these cuffs.”
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