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A Tale of Two Cities-Bandi and Windar...life in Vela Astria...when the past doesn't match the present or the future

Posted May 17, 2022, 12:35 a.m. by Civilian Jessa Novar (Child) (Kate O'Neill)

Posted by Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in A Tale of Two Cities-Bandi and Windar…life in Vela Astria…when the past doesn’t match the present or the future

Posted by Civilian Jessa Novar (Child) in A Tale of Two Cities-Bandi and Windar…life in Vela Astria…when the past doesn’t match the present or the future

Posted by Fleet Captain Kelly Bordeaux (Commanding Officer) in A Tale of Two Cities-Bandi and Windar…life in Vela Astria…when the past doesn’t match the present or the future
SNIP
A Tale of Two Cities-Bandi and Windar…life in Vela Astria

KUBLIA TAIS (Captial World of the Galactic Union)

The Rectoress rose from her position of genuflecting. The movement was slow and graceful as if she was floating on air. Her carefully tailored gown continued to glisten and pulse even though the transmission had stopped. Smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of the front of her dress, she moved to the side of the room pouring herself a strong ale. She secretly despised both the pomp and pageantry and the cleansing rituals of a world’s indoctrination. It was not the financial expense of the event. The Galactic Union had unimaginable wealth. It was a waste of her time and that of those that could be doing important work. Today it was Mischwald but in less than a month it would be another.

Bringing the glass to her lips, the ice clinked softly against the crystal edges of the cup. The sound felt soothing, like the wind chimes that hung outside her bedroom window when she was a child on Naluvai. Closing her eyes, the Rectoress imagined the salt smell that clung to every breeze that washed ashore from the ocean waves, the ocean gulls that seemed to caw non-stop when the tides rolled in and out, and the small grains of sand that seemed to coat the ground no matter how much one swept the floor. It was a simpler time back then when her only concern was if her father would bring back a sweet from the market along with the daily catch from his boat. Her fingers gripped the crystal glass tighter as if trying to choke the memories from surfacing with her bare hands. Living in the past did not progress one into the future fate had determined for them. Her knuckles turned whiter as the Rectoress focused on erasing the image of her and her sister running barefoot on the sand towards the encroaching waves. The white froth slipped between their toes as the waves splashed up covering their legs and stomach with the water from the endless ocean that seemed to blur the line of the planet’s surface with the horizon.

“Rectoress,” a voice called out softly causing her to startle and shatter the delicate crystal in her palm. The imaginary warm spray of ocean water was replaced with droplets from her frosty amber drink and blood from her hand covering her pristine white dress with a yellow and red blood splatter. “Kyla?” The voice was no longer across the room but in her ear. His left arm encircled her waist, pulling her tightly to his body as his right hand slowly traced her wrist, flipping her palm up. The skin was a bloody mess with jagged chunks and small shards of crystal from the glass embedded in the once creamy white skin.

Looking down at her hand, the Rectoress did not cry out in pain, flinch, or turn away. As the man’s chin settled on her shoulder, they watched as the crystal pieces seemed to slowly extricate themselves from the jagged, torn flesh of her hand. One by one they popped up out of her wound and fell to the ground producing a sound that was similar to the tinkle of the ice that once bounced in the crystal glass from which she had been drinking. His thumb moved from the pulse of her wrist to the palm of her hand in a circular motion. The motion brushed away any remaining bits of broken crystal from the glass yet smeared the blood around coating her hand. Do you see the blood on your hand? It is only a microscopic droplet of the amount you have spilled today on a world you will not remember by morning, he silently chastised the Rectoress. She did not know it but he would make Kyla Novar pay for what she did today with more than just a smear of blood.

“Are you okay,” Pellan’s voice whispered in her ear as his lips delicately brushed the soft skin on the nape of her neck. The hand, not around her waist, slid up her body tracing every curve. Pausing momentarily, he let his palm cover her exposed throat before raising it to her cheek. Turning her face, he kissed her gently however the angle he was holding her face caused tension in her neck. He did not want her to fully enjoy the embrace. Part of him needed her to fear it.

Her lips lingered on his before she spoke. “No. I should be but I’m not. Today was difficult,” she admitted. “It’s just hard to not allow myself to be concerned about how the cleansing ritual will affect Jessa. This is why familial ties need to stay hidden,” she spoke in a tone desperate for Pellan to reassure her. “It clouds our judgment about what needs to happen to prove a Guardian’s faith and devotion not only to the Union but to the path of enlightenment.” Leaning her head back, she let herself slip from the role of Rectoress and to that of Kyla Novar. Being in Pellan’s arms made the transition far simpler than it should be.

The sound of her words changed his emotions from anger over Mischwald to pure rage. Pellan’s fingers dug into Kyla’s waist pulling her firmly against his body as he fisted both her skin and material from her dress. His grip became iron-clad as he grabbed her chin and turned her face to his. “Jessa was on Mischwald? Bandi only or Bandi and Windar?” Vell’s question belied a hint of the emotion rising to a boiling point in his body. Vell had spent years making sure the girl only went to certain places at certain times. Whoever knew of Jessa’s assignment to Mischwald and withheld this information from Pellan would die a death as bloody and painful as possible as the Chancellor could make it. Struggling to control his rising temper he repeated the words, “Bandi or Windar?”

Kyla’s brow furrowed first into confusion and then anger as she felt Vell’s fingers dig into her skin preventing her from moving until she answered him. “It was time for her to learn that the path to enlightenment is not won by songs and pageantry but by blood and devotion to the cause. You know that as well as I do.” Jerking her chin, Kyla felt Pellan’s fingers still hold it in place tightening his grip so her eyes could not leave his. The angle was as uncomfortable physically as was the look in his eyes. If she was not intimate with Vell, the icy stare and immobilizing grip would have been met with a physical reaction of her own.

“Do I?” His tone was deadly causing the woman in his arms to shiver slightly. The icy blue stare of his eyes was meant to not just scare her but strike cold fear into her soul. The Rectoress trusted no one but right now Pellan was not holding the religious leader of the Galactic Union. He was holding his lover, Kyla, who mistakenly believed Pellan Vell was the one person in the universe that would not hurt her. Only years of training kept him from snapping her neck and letting her lifeless body drop to the floor.

“We have to make sure Guardians do not fall from the path, especially her. With Jessa it is not only our obligation but also our duty to ensure she does not make the same mistakes as her mother,” her voice took on a sterner tone as the muscles in her jaw and body stiffened in rebuke to the way he was treating her.

Long seconds passed before Vell twisted the Rectoress’ chin a bit further. “You mean your sister,” his voice murmured in a tone reminiscent of the kind one used when the lights dipped low and more carnal pleasures were soon to follow. The reaction by the Rectoress however was anything but pleasant. It was exactly what he had intended. The Rectoress had crossed the only line Pellan had. She would pay for it no matter what the cost. “Who you swore to that it would be your solemn duty to care for her child. Your niece.”

“My familial relations and the Galactic Union are my concerns. Not yours,” she growled back pushing hard against his body attempting to free herself from his grasp. Her eyes flashed with rage as Pellan held her only long enough to ensure the Rectoress knew he was not afraid of her nor the consequences of his actions. “You forget your place, Chancellor Vell.”

“No you forget at times that my place, by your side, is the only thing keeping your humanity alive in this ivory tower where you reside,” he responded softly in her ear.

A disgusted grunt left her lips as Pellan released Kyla’s waist allowing her to move across the room and to the large balcony. If her Chancellor was anyone else than Pellan Vell, Kyla Novar would have called the guards and sent him off for re-education. At times her handsome and charismatic lover pushed her favor towards him into a dangerous zone. Gripping the slippery white marble railing, she breathed in letting the cool twilight air quench the fiery anger surging in her body. She did not turn or flinch as the sounds of his boots and the swish of the door signaled his departure. He would be back later tonight when he had cooled off. For now, Kyla Novar, Rectoress of the Galactic Union enjoyed a quiet moment alone.


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