Volume 6: Gamma-11, Chapter 6.21

For the meeting with the praetor, the Galgarians set up for a different kind of celebration; this wasn’t going to be some rowdy feast with dancing and drinking, instead it was to be respectful and ritualistic.

A path was paved in the grey sands leading into the clan territory, bordered with pure white stones with golden torches placed evenly to light the way despite the brutal sun overhead. There were cactus flowers and bright, brilliant succulents arranged evenly, with small silver platters of dried leaves that offered a fragrant smell I figured was the gojen version of potpourri.

It seemed like everyone we’d dealt with had someone else they respected above them and needed to show proper reverence; obviously compared to our new clan, the Dennosh Clan was wealthy and established, but the Galgarian Clan was several steps above them in both wealth and status and needed proper respect. And yet despite the fact they were an elder clan and one of the founders of Coralia, the respect the Galgarians showed for the praetor’s visit took me by surprise.

They had us all properly arranged in the large open meeting tent with the Galgarians at the head of the table, the Dennosh Clan off to the side, and then us even farther away, with a white sheet over Eve’s statue so they could unveil it in some grand gesture.

I was pretty sure I heard her grumbling a little when she was covered.

We were all waiting in place when we heard drums from outside the clan territory, and then we heard cheering from the Galgarian gojens outside the tent, and after a few moments of anticipation, finally the praetor and his temple guards entered the tent.

The praetor was dressed in those immaculate white robes same as before, and his dozen guard escort was equally blindingly white. It was then I realized those guards were the first gojens I saw with weapons, those fancy bone spears. I wondered if they were just for pageantry, or if for the first time in gojen history they decided something was important enough to defend with force.

Everyone at the head table stood when the praetor entered, so those of us in the pits off to the side joined in quickly.

“Welcome, Your Eminence, and thank you for visiting your old friends, the Galgarian Clan.” Kelgorm announced loudly and elegantly, once again to his ancient father’s right side (the only gojen still seated, but I assumed it wouldn’t be seen as disrespect since the man looked like he was a sneeze away from dying).

The praetor’s guards fanned around him in a large circle, looking like it was all for show and respect more than anything. Right away, a chair was brought out behind the praetor, a fancy white wooden throne with white animal skins draped over it for comfort. The gojen who brought the chair placed it and then left so swiftly it was like he was never there—clearly a well-practiced display.

The praetor barely inclined his head, and in response all the gojens at the head table bowed low at the waist. Only after the praetor sat in his chair did the other gojens right themselves and then sit down too.

The praetor reached up to his face to undo his wrappings, and I was surprised how young he looked—just a few years into his manhood, with pale golden skin and bright blonde hair. I had to wonder how the hell a kid like him got such an important role, probably thanks to Gamma-11’s meddling.

Then I wondered if the man was actually a puppet—dead or assimilated. With Eve in her primitive state, I couldn’t exactly ask her for clarification.

Either way, we needed to be careful.

“It’s always a pleasure to treat with the founding clans of our glorious Coralia.” He said grandly, his voice light and elegant—boyish really.

Kelgorm bowed again, “We also give honor and thanks to this wonderful settlement and the New Light who’s blessed it; never before has our clan seen such wealth and abundance, never before have our people been so secure with our life in the harsh sands. It’s all thanks to you and the glorious New Light you discovered.” He said respectfully.

The praetor inclined his head in response, “You honor me with your words.”

Kelgorm shook his head, “No, the honor is ours.” He held his hands our grandly, “Let us tell you how we have prospered…”

Holy shit, it wasn’t just Calmengar who would delve into an endless ass-kissing rant, apparently that was just part of gojen culture.

Kelgorm spent the next hour bragging about all their amazing wealth, the new deals they’d made, how they prospered and grew, all the while saying it was thanks to Coralia and the New Light. He said it was thanks to the New Light their oldest kummo was still able to give birth, said it was the New Light who allowed their latest harvest to yield so abundantly, said it was even thanks to the New Light for their sons and daughters getting married and either spreading to other clans or inviting new gojens into their ranks.

The praetor was gracious all the while, but he looked like he was taking all the compliments personally—like he somehow had a hand in all the prosperity.

What the hell was with these people? All the rituals and respect, the endless jerk-off sessions? How did they not get tired of all this shit?

At some point I just totally zoned out, started daydreaming what it would be like if I was a wizard who could use magic spells to free me and Eve from the Empire’s nonsense.

I have no idea how much time even passed, but finally they centered back to the main issue, and I heard Kelgorm mention a blessing they offered as an elder clan to connect the praetor with a clan who had a miraculous offering worthy of the New Light.

I snapped myself back to the present in time to see Dryden and Crisson move from the pit towards the praetor, and I was quick to follow after them with my cart and the covered statue.

Kelgorm gestured towards us as the temple guards moved to allow us before the praetor, “These people have traveled for three generations with this offering and believe with all they’ve experienced in that time divine life has be born within it; me and my people experienced its divinity first-hand, and we’ve had visions and healings over the past few days it’s been in our presence.” He smiled brightly, “We believe it’s fated to be offered to the New Light.” He announced.

Once Dryden and Crisson were in front of the praetor, they bowed low, and I got in the center and placed the cart right before him, then pulled away the sheet for the grand reveal.

The praetor cocked his head to the side, “A wooden statue?” He inquired.

Dryden nodded along, still not rising before the praetor, “Yes, Your Eminence, a statue carved by our clan founder three generations ago, from a rare tree found in a sacred haven. We believe it’s brought us luck and fortune through all our travels, an offering worthy of the New Light.” He said.

The praetor stood from his chair and moved towards the statue, reaching a hand out. He placed his hand flat against it, then pulled it back as though shocked. He looked down at his hand, then put it back on the statue and held it there for a few moments. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and moved away.

“Interesting, certainly no ordinary wood—rare in color and texture, and it does have a strange sense of…power within.” The praetor smiled kindly, “Very well, we shall accept your offering, and I’ll deliver it to the New Light personally.” He confirmed.

Dryden and Crisson exchanged a glance, finally standing back upright.

“Forgive us, Your Eminence, but this offering is bound to us and our clan, and it was our hope we’d be able to present it to the New Light ourselves.” Crisson said slowly.

The praetor’s smile slowly fell away, “I’m sorry, but no one’s authorized to see the New Light except me; I’m the only one who’s been sanctified and purified, the only one who can stand before her glorious presence.”

Dryden looked at Kelgorm, then to me, then back to the praetor, “Your Eminence, you don’t understand, our entire pilgrimage was centered around the idea of bringing—”

The praetor held up a hand to silence him, and his fallen smile kept falling until it was a complete frown, “I can appreciate your struggles and your dedication, and for that I’m offering you the chance to allow me to take the statue to the New Light directly—that isn’t an offer I give out freely.” He nodded once, “I assume you’ve visited the temple, saw all the offerings people leave outside its walls.”

Dryden nodded too, “Of course.”

“So for you, your blessing will be the knowledge your offering will be hand delivered to the New Light by me.” The praetor narrowed his eyes, “And that’s your

only

offer.”

I saw the plan crashing before Dryden then—what he worked out with the Lord Generals blowing up in his face, with no room for improvisation. The plan was to get the statue into the temple, see what form Gamma-11 was taking, try to question her and her motives if we could, and if needed reveal Eve right there before her sister Predazoan. From there, using Eve as threatening leverage, we’d either contain Gamma-11 if she was willing to go with us in another mobile containment cell, or we’d have to unleash Eve right there so she could end things—provided the Lord Generals authorized the use of force at that point.

But if we couldn’t get into the temple, we couldn’t gather any other intelligence and couldn’t continue on with any of our other plans—it all stopped right here.

Even with his gojen disguise, I saw in Dryden’s eyes he was frantically trying to figure how to work things out, but was also completely bound by the Lord Generals’ orders. As I said time and time again, the Lord Generals were fools for not taking into consideration all the variables on these missions, how much we needed to adapt on the fly.

If it was me, I’d probably reveal Eve right there, say she was the

true

New Light to rival the one in the temple—obviously that would be a huge mess and reveal ourselves as outsiders to the primitive people while trying to maintain stealth, but I didn’t see any other options at this point.

And clearly, neither did Dryden, and since he wasn’t willing to adapt or alter the plans, he was totally stuck.

“Would you…allow us some time to consider your offer?” Dryden asked awkwardly.

The praetor shook his head, “No, that is your only offer, and the blessing provided by the Galgarian Clan is only good for this one meeting—I’m a very busy man and can’t treat with the people regularly.” He narrowed his eyes into slits, “I suggest you graciously accept my offer so as to not waste your blessing from an elder clan.”

There was no way we could take the offer—no way we could risk letting Eve out of our sight, especially being contained and in her weird primitive state. For as important as our mission was here on Congoren, there was no chance the Lord Generals or anyone in command would risk losing the most valuable asset for the Predazoan containment mission.

Dryden shook his head slowly, “I’m sorry, but we can’t accept your offer, we need to be the ones to bring the statue to the New Light.”

The praetor’s face looked like it turned to stone, like he was actually mad over the outcome—as though he wanted to bring the statue offering to the New Light, maybe get the glory for himself even.

“Very well.” He looked up at the head table, “Kelgorm, thank you for your hospitality.” He said, then promptly turned and made his way for the exit with the temple guards following after him.

Kelgorm stood quickly, “Your Eminence, are you sure you can’t—”

The praetor stopped at the tent’s entrance and threw a harsh glare towards Kelgorm, “No, absolutely not, I’m not in the business of making trades or bartering over offerings; I’m the direct representative of our god, so my word represents that of our new god.” He cocked his head to the side, “Do you think it’s wise to question the word and orders of the New Light?”

Kelgrom shook his head, “No, Your Eminence.” He waved out towards the exit, “Thank you for your time and consideration; go now with our blessing, and know we honor you always and thank you for guiding us to the New Light.”

The praetor barely inclined his head, and everyone bowed in return, and without another word, he and his temple guards left—and that was it.