Monday, July 4, 2022

The Uplift Protocol Blood Feuds: Issue 22

 

Issue 22: The Curator Returns

 

            My people are finally ready. We waited long enough. Collected enough threads across the multiverse. Like-minded realms will rise together. Amid the sea of stars. –The Curator

            We never had physical bodies in the way later cycles perceived them. It made the Amache the perfect vector to cause trouble for Unity’s puppets and those who pulled its strings.—Annals of Battle

            The Highest placed a great deal of trust in the Curator. He was the backup plan in case I should fail. In some timelines? I did. Those were the visions Anna had beheld. Not just the Unity possession but within some? Dexter and I had never existed. It was why Eden’s universal vibrations. Its signature you could say was so important. It was the central thread within the wheel of the Multiverse. Unity had never been able to properly breach the restored Veil and Night Realm of our home universe. The Red King? It had found a way.—Sleeping in Starlight: Codex of the Past, Present and Future

The Surface of Earth (Edenverse)

The Veil Above and Below

The First Compact After the Shattering

 

            The Curator phased through the rocky surface.

A spark of light rested upon his shadowed form. Dark matter twisted and coiled about that bit of illumination. Welcoming it. A spark of the one that had saved the remaining Amache from enslavement. A higher level being. Its voice sang within the Curator.  

            Carry me through fire. For I shall ignite the stars.

            The Amache leader paused. This place was dead. A rush of heat expanded. Pale against the total dark. The core ignited. Rivers of lava flowed. Knowledge of this physical realm coiled about the Curator. He floated above. Watched as the planet formed about him. Mountains grew. Their roots tied to the core.

            With trembling fingers the Curator said, “The First Flame of a New World.” A golden star flashed into existence. It pulled at the heavens. It drew the Titans to this place.

            I name you Khepri. So shall the Icath and Amache guide my Arbiters within this realm. Your allegiance held secret. For the long fingers of crimson shall flow into this Universe. Not through violence or woe.

            Khepri shuddered. “I am not one who gives life! Or renewal!”

            His people could not exist in this physical realm. So how would he assist the future bipeds? The word came to his mind. Humans. Noah’s flock. This place would be host to the first seed of Humanity’s

            The Light pulsated. Its voice soothed Khepri.

Fear not. That is part of the Shroud of Memory. We shall hide the Truth within scripture. Ceremony. I am not like my brother. Mortal life shall be able to choose. All paths open.

            Khepri said, “What shall the Shattering be named?”

            The Exodus. The Garden of Eden pillaged. For your part? You shall dub it many names. Across the ages. Each story faded against time and memory.  

            The words formed. Aaru. Heaven. Valhalla. Nirvana.

            Elysium.

            That last name resonated. It sang within Khepri. The Light phased through his body.

            You shall not know the name of Heaven.

I must protect that last thread. When the final battle begins? Only then shall you remember this moment. Do you understand what I ask of you? Curator of the Amache. One whose form can possess the dead.

            Khepri considered the words.

            His mind peered into the future. A woman with black and gray eyes stared back at him.

            Her face was marred with age. Within that face? The Light echoed. Next to her was a twin. His face bearded. A mighty white trident in one hand. A massive scythe rested upon his back. Their wings. Thronebears of the Shattering. Concealed within a mortal form.

He covered his eyes.

            “I am not worthy.”

            The Light intoned softly, “You shall be.”

*****

            Khepri stood upon the sands.

In the distance, the dot of green expanded.  A rich oasis surrounded the outskirts of the Golden City. Massive pyramids glittered in the noonday sun. Ships came and went with a shimmer. P’tah sat. The Icath eyed the activity. His gaze hardened. <<Phase Two approaches. The Veil conceals the truth. >>

Khepri inhaled sharply. His armored helm retracted. In the shape of Anubis.

He was adorned in Golden City Protector armor. His chest was bear. Three golden armbands on the left. Three. A significant number. While the right arm had one silver band. The simple ankh necklace was embued with ancient power. The council of “Gods” would occur before Chronos’ banishment through time.

Khepri had put his old host body to rest. Gave it the final rites needed. The soul shard of the elderly man had smiled. In life, he had been a Light Shaman. His name long forgotten to the annals of time. “May you find rest until the next cycle.”

The Amache side of his soul was relieved. As the Curator? He felt a measure of unease when taking a new host to carry the mission forward.

This body had been empty.  A rarity.

The soulless often didn’t make it beyond one year.

Arcane agents had located the babe. Left within an ICU. No data on the parents.

Khepri suspected divine intervention. The body had been placed within the Weaving Pods of the Golden City. Its growth regulated to that of a normal human. Pods made by the Lady of the Isles. Lorain Lanis. Her legacy entwined just as acutely as the Arbiters. It was why they would protect her against the 2nd Phase. Memory held pain. But it held hope as well.

Khepri sighed, “One day we shall all walk with the Sun. Our Burdens laid bare.”

P’tah’s purple jewel swirled with power. His massive white-furred head leaned into the sunlight. His tail swished. He purred, <<That we shall. I promised you a drink.>>

Khepri nodded. That long-ago ceremony burned upon his memory.

He saw them again. As he had first met them. Eliza Murphy. Known as the Arbiter of the Sands to the original residents of the Golden City. Clothed in silver metals that had hugged her shoulders. Her chest. Simple sandals. Leg guards to her knees. A white cloak upon her back. Her Horus helm that same silver brilliance. Lorain had worn her Yellow Defender belt. It had taken the form of a sash. Hieroglyphics proclaiming the words for “Health Everlasting” stenciled upon the edges.

Lorain’s white robes linked together with golden rings across her arms and neck.

A golden circlet upon her head. The shimmer around her arms cloaked the Unity Bond jewelry. He knew the context now. None had ever seen Eliza without her helmet. Never her true face. Lanis had seen to that. Khepri raised his arms. Power flowed. White lines of power surrounded both and they winked out of existence.

The Golden City

Old Quarter Residential Area

Present Day

            Lorain Lanis glanced up at Eliza, “Seeing double?”

            To her surprise, the taller woman nodded. “I know this place. Like the back of my hand.”

            Eliza’s gaze was locked on a point only she could perceive. Lorain glanced about. Each house was a light tan coloration. The roofs flat. Signals reached her HUD. Modern appliances. Cooper nuzzled her left hand. <<There’s more but you will know that in time.>> His body was renewed. Vigor echoed his every step. The world was entering a new age. Legislation was introduced. From now on? All would be required to reach the updated age of majority before being offered the newest package of Prolong.

             60 Years. Terran Standard.

            So everyone would experience the rigors of normal aging.

            Many had accepted this. Life was extended but the responsibility remained.

            The knowledge that one could still appreciate the little aspects that made life worth living. A new golden age for Humanity. All in perperation. Magical demis already knew of this life. Using the stasis pods below the city to extend their existence. The spirit. The soul was eternal.  Now they could assist the body in a fraction of that reality. Lorain hugged herself. That kernel of doubt ate away at her. How would they remain sane?

No, she amended silently.

How would she remain true when the weight of ages came calling?

            Eliza’s fingers kneaded Lorain’s right shoulder.

Murphy leaned in, “No matter what? I’ll catch you.”

*****

            I added privately, We shall not walk this world alone.

            Madness would not touch her. Not ever. I would take it into myself. That knife would never contaminate Doc. No matter what Unity or the Red King wanted. I knelt. The rough cobbled street stones warmed by the noonday sun. My palm prickled.

            Bastet’s warm tone flooded my senses, <<Your mother and father await you in the Veil of the City. I will bring the Lady of the Isles to the apex of waterways. It will clear her mind of worries.>>

I controlled my expression.

Kept a pleasant smile fixed on Lorain. I meant everything I said.

Another notification hit. Arcane Level Priority.

///Meeting Set. The Silver of the Sands is required.///

The code for my future self. From my point of view. To them? It was their distant past. I know what the readers of this chronicle are thinking. Time Travel. Loops within Loops. I didn’t dwell on it. Only the Highest knew all the pathways. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Now I had to hide things from Lorain. From my parents.

From myself.

A thread trickled across the Thronebearer line.

Silver Fox’s mental voice, my voice, rolled out knowingly.

>>The trap is set. But not the only one. Do not underestimate the Ankh. What it will proclaim. If it makes you feel better? Dexter holds first place in hiding information.<<

An image burned behind my retinas.

I would wear it as the Arbiter of the Sands. I could feel the rough leather crisscrossing against my skin. It would not be my final form. I sucked in a breath and whistled a jaunty tune. Doc took notice and her expression relaxed into a light-hearted grin.

 “Really? The Star-Spangled Banner? A bit on the nose.”

I winked.

Residents waved as we walked by. Others joined in.

The revelry grew as I guided Doc to the bathhouse. This one wasn’t within the physical world. The entrance pulsed against my skin. I lifted her into my arms and spun us around. “It's cliché but we will have the time needed.”

She slapped my arm playfully. “Dork.”

I relented and set her back down. “Always!”

The Bathhouse

Golden City (The Veil)

 

            Doc examined the smooth marble. Simple pillars ringed the clear waters. The water lapped against the pool barriers. She sighed as the waters soothed her aching muscles. Eliza poured water from her cupped hands to the biting pain against the base of Lorain’s neck.

            She noted, “As a doctor. You should heal thyself!”

            Lanis replied, “Oh and where’s your degree Ms. Cornfed?”

The smile in her voice took the bite from the response.

            This was an old game. Murphy had hung her black flight jacket over one of the stone benches. She had removed her black boots. Socks folded to the side. Black pants rolled up to her calves. “I have a moment or two.” Murphy crossed her arms. The white synthweave long-sleeved shirt rolled up to her elbows. She floated just above the water now. Her legs crossed. Hands hooked behind her head. Eliza said, “When did you get the time to get that new swimsuit?”

            Lorain ducked beneath the water for a split second.

            It was black with a green V where a belt would be. As she surfaced Eliza was grinning.

            “I thought you’d bring THE suit.”

            Lorain raised her index finger, “That one is for special occasions!”

            Their Hollowed Earth adventure. Lorain reminisced, “Those poor trees.”

*****

 

            I said firmly, “Considering the gravity factor of that adventure plus the air velocity….”

            Lorain glanced away. Arms crossed over her chest. When she faced me again she was beet red. I added, “As I recall you didn’t seem too bothered by removing all those splinters…” She glared at me.

            “Don’t you dare!” I moved towards the lip of the pool.

Hooked my thumbs into my belt. I said solemnly, “I'll never tell a soul.”

Lorain eyed me wearily, “You better not.”

I snorted. Fixed the collar of my shirt. The sound made Lorain rise from the water. She poked my chest.

A smile bloomed. Good.

I held out my hand, “May I have this dance?”

*****

Bastet rocked wildly. The incense of the room blurred her vision. Her hands moved. The drawing took shape. Michael Brookes’ ice blue eyes gazed back. Behind him, a red cord looped through his son. Beyond that? Chronos’ twisted form loomed. The feline demi growled softly, “That is not his only form.”

The vessel could be moved. Thoth would not be the final piece.

Abbadon’s trap remained.

Issue 21: Here

Issue 23: Here

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