Prologue

Chapter 1. An

Chapter 2. Ninna

Chapter 3. The Rite of Hatching

Chapter 4. The Council

Chapter 5. The Sortie

Chapter 6. Enra

Chapter 7. Ninra

Chapter 8. Lil

Chapter 9. The Seer

Chapter 10. Ki

Chapter 11. The Census

Chapter 12. Igza

Chapter 13. The Trek

Chapter 14. The Coming of Age

Chapter 15. The Burning of the Hides

Chapter 16. The City of Ra

Chapter 17. The Young Seer

Chapter 18. The Steering Fields

Chapter 19. The Old Blood

Chapter 20. The New Course

Thick opaque darkness spilled its ink in all directions, its deep velvety curls swirling softly. Stark bolts of lightning stirred the seething void that sipped between the veins of warm vesiculous glow that used to be a star. A dying star it was, taking its last breath, its huge swollen body pulsating. Giant bubbles stretched and deformed its thin frail surface, each new one larger than the last, threatening to turn it inside out. The shimmering tangle of fiery filaments was alive with timid anticipation. And then it happened. The star had shed its husk, and a giant red and orange peel receded ghostly in all directions, leaving behind a tiny helpless seed.

The hyperdense crystalline core spun madly, crying, searching for what was already gone. The star was no more, its air swept away, its beauty ruined. A hungry Chaos crawled out of the void and eagerly consumed the fading corpse of the expanding nebula, mixing all of its elements in one primordial soup, claiming an eternal dominion over the form that once existed, erasing everything.

Yet nothing lasts forever, not even chaos. One day chaos too would settle down and subside, acquiring a form, however shapeless and mishappen it might be, but a form nonetheless, a seed of meek waxing Order, fragmented and micellar, yet growing. Unstoppable. Unthwartable. Divinely preordained. Ying-yang of blossoming and withering, seeded in timeless perpetuity by the Designers themselves.

And so it happened, and it did so much sooner than expected. The greedy chaos of the venous nebula had managed to concoct something that was neither intended nor anticipated, but was it a surprise? Hardly. By definition, chaos is replete with things strange and unintended. Some may call it a miracle. Others call it a chance.

With its last cough, the dying star had spit out a chunk of molten iron. Red hot and boiling with blunt agony, it floated away through cosmic dust untethered from its host. It was a child, free from the suffocating womb of its dead mother. It was alone. A cosmic orphan, a lamb, a seed, a wandering star, a maverick planet, a homeworld of the intelligent beings that called themselves the ones.

The Homeworld floated through space and time in solemn solitude. Forlorn, it soared over the cosmic river like a hungry hawk looking for prey, searching. Dim and distant it appeared to humans on Earth as a mere speck of light, one of many barely visible freckles of shine that animated the night sky. But there was one thing that set the Homeworld apart from all the other celestial wonders meandering through the undergrowth of the cosmic woods. That thing was purpose. Gravity alone did not determine the path the Homeworld took through space, no, it did not. Oftentimes the Homeworld came perilously close to turbulent stellar nurseries and treacherous asteroid fields, too frequently to be accounted for by chance alone. Make no mistake, the Homeworld obeyed the laws of gravity, and yet its winding trek was largely determined by the unyielding will of its non-human inhabitants who charted their planet’s course with care and deliberation.

Wandering planets are not themselves rare, but this one was unique among its lot. Most are cold, dead worlds, floating graveyards, frightening and desolate, but this one wasn’t. Far from dead, the Homeworld was warm and hospitable. It wore a thick and hazy clout of air full of perpetual red-orange fog. The bowels of the planet were made of iron, and so were its hills, mountains, and ravines. With time the iron rusted giving the planet its insidious blood-red color. Moisture clumped the iron dust into thick red mud that filled innumerable swamps, and iron sand built iron dunes resembling giant slugs. Orange fog was everywhere, and it exuded a dim, eerie radiance that swirled and shimmered as if it were alive. This queer glow would most certainly have looked disturbing to our human eyes, yet for the ones inhabiting the Homeworld the sight of it was as most ordinary.

The Homeworld was a measured planet. It had no clouds, no weather, no rain, no oceans and rivers. The planet donned neither green pastures nor lush forests, but only perpetual thick fog. With no star to call its host the Homeworld had neither mornings nor evenings, neither days nor nights, neither summers nor winters. Usual measures of time were not practiced there. The Homeworld’s air weekly illuminated its surface, creating the most notable feature of this world, its eternal dusk. Where did this glow come from? Nobody knew for certain, but the Elders said that the Homeworld kept alive by subsiding on the crumbs of space itself. Cutting across the tracks of other stars, the Homeworld feasted on the waves the stars had left behind in their wake. These waves stirred up great heat deep in the Homeworld’s iron bowels and made its skies glow. Ubiquitous soft orange and red light was everywhere.

With little weather and no seasons, the Homeworld was awash with dull comfort, boring as it was. The warm and humid air brought fog and dew but did not strain to father either lakes or creeks. It must have been the iron of the planet that fostered this tranquility. Heat traveled fast through iron, leaving little room for change.

The Homeworld shape was that of a misshapen honeycomb or more precisely, a dodecahedron. The highlands were but rusty outcrops of the iron mountains and the lowlands were covered by charcoal-like pitch-black soil. There was an uncanny music to these rusty highlands as if the entire planet was forged by giants on an immense cosmic anvil. Upon its birth, the planet boiled with a colossal wave of molten iron that rose and bucked in giant lumps, then froze quickly when the Homeworld had left its rocking cradle split open by its dying mother. This giant iron wave rose one last time and froze forever, giving the world its regular appearance.

The planet was large—bigger in girth and more massive than Earth—and partially hollow. Perhaps the iron mountains on the Home World’s surface were not just mountains but gargantuan world-size bubbles formed when the planet’s core was in turmoil, boiling. We do not know for sure, but this is how the Homeworld came to be, and this is how it looked from the early days of its creation. Fixed in time, the Homeworld was unchanging; life on it was slow.

Life on the Homeworld did not appear quickly. Only the Designers know why, but it took eons before the Homeworld ventured close enough to one of the living planets to pick up some pollen, spores, and germs to give its barren landscape a seed. Its virgin lands were fertile. Once impregnated, the life took quickly to its char-black lowlands, growing red moss, cereals, and low, crawling shrubs. Be as it may, it was a frugal variety, but it was a miracle that life took root here at all. How could there be life without the sun? Yet the inner glow and warmth of the planet itself were enough for life to adapt to this new environment, evolving a stingy yet hardy variety.

The animals did not appear on the Homeworld for many more eons, not until the Homeworld was visited by intelligent beings whose origins were lost in times immemorial. Perhaps it was them who settled the Homeworld and brought their engineered livestock to the planet, which was benign and boring. There were few wild animals on the Homeworld, mostly bats. The few animals that existed were colored brown and all shades of ochre. Utilitarian by design, some animals gave milk, others gave wool, and some were suitable for riding and hauling. None of them existed for their own purpose and account. They were all a part of a plan, a grand design, which seemed to pervade every aspect of life on the Homeworld.

Who were the Designers? We do not know. Who are the intelligent beings that settled the Homeworld? We do not know either. All we know is that they are tall and slender, their skin is grayish-green with a touch of blue, they are bipedal, they have six fingers and six toes, their skin is scaly, and their heads are long and conical. The eyes are narrow slits, and their ears are mere holes. They look like outsiders on this planet, which makes one believe that they were not native to this world and must have evolved in an environment very different from this planet. Perhaps they were even cold-blooded, and it was the perpetual warmth, wetness, and soft twilight of the Home World that made this planet so appealing to them. Living on the Homeworld for them was like living underwater without being under water. A strange and new experience for a reptilian species, the experience they grew to be accustomed to and like.

Life is truly mysterious. It adapts to everything. With time the inhabitants of the Homeworld grew accustomed to their new mother and eventually forgot their true origins.

A tall imposing figure protruded from the balcony of the Royal Apex. Shaped like a bronze statue, its silhouette was somber, heavy, and unmoving. There was no telling of how long it had been standing there. Alive or dead, for the inhabitants of lower levels it looked a part of the city’s skyline. Perhaps in moments like these, An was a part of the city, a linchpin at the center of the complex organism. A vertebrae? A heart? A brain? Not quite, he felt himself a cog. To him, the world was a machine.

Beneath the balcony, the One City sprawled its fractal essence majestically, like a kaleidoscope, the same view repeating endlessly in all directions yet changing ever so slightly. A thick orange fog choked the air like some rich dressing on a salad, its swirls oozed and bounced softly off tops of golden domes and caught themselves on pointy spires erupting raucously from grey stone walls. The supple fabric of the City was stitched together by the ghostly bridges jutting from the sides of towers like sprouts on bamboo. Spreading in multiple directions like neurons, the bridges formed an unfathomable tangle, as if to hide their true purpose.

Yet there was an order to this web, a subtle one, it flowed like music on a summer wind. There was a certain rhythm to it that An perceived. The chaos is a product of a cluttered mind, he knew, his mind was a model of control.

An’s pensive gaze was fixed on the horizon perpetually awash in an orange glow. There, in the distance, away from the Royal Apex, the towers seemed not to have the will to rise as high as they did here, or brandish any ornament. Their sight was dull, the orange fog concealing imperfection.

The vastness of the Homeworld was ever gracious, and yet the One City stood alone. The cradle of the Ones of all castes and ranks was like a sponge that harbored life. All but a few who manned the steering fields, and those who worked the moss patches lived here. Save for the dead (who’d gone ‘off-world’, the Seer said), all Ones were servants of the city.

The weightless robe made An feel naked. It always did, and An often wondered why donne a fabric so light and thin at all. It covered hardly anything, what purpose did it serve then? Some questions were without an answer, and An did not feel the need to know everything.

Entrusted with the keeping of the Order of Things, An’s duty was larger than his enormous body. He was the One in Command, responsible for the well-being of the Ones, both the ens and the iggs. Was there anything more important than keeping the Order? Yet An could not think of anything more burdensome, his task was an onerous one. The Order of Things required An to keep the number of ens to the exact count according to their rank and status and manage the number of iggs between ‘too many’ and ‘too few’. The latter was a torturous task, for how much is ‘too many’ and ‘too few’ depended on circumstances. Too few iggs could easily mean starvation and unrest, but when there were too many one could be certain that they would put forth a champion to challenge the ens during the next Burning of the Hides. Such challenges were rare as an igg was all but certain to lose to an en, yet numbers emboldened the iggs greatly even if foolishly. This rash valor was an unfortunate effect of having little enough to do. Too much free time was certain to lead to brooding, among other things allowing the iggs time to train for combat. Thus, it was best to hold them busy by keeping their numbers small. Still, too few of them could bring about a peril of another kind: unhappy thralls were known to revolt.

As such, erring on the ‘too many’ side was a safer bet, for igg champions were most naturally destined to lose to ens that were bigger, stronger, and better trained. Still, an igg champion could win despite the odds. Eons ago, An himself had challenged Kro three-score him senior, defeating him and watering the Father Tree in the Sacred Grove with the blue essence of his life. An hardly was concerned with a challenge aimed at himself, for there was no one who could match him in size and strength. Yet many others were not as sturdy in their places as An was in his. Perhaps he should welcome a score of challengers to sweep the ranks of ens of weak and ill-fitted and thus make the Order of Things stronger. Perhaps he should… This cycle was a barren one, and he had made the iggs toil more. Surely the extra moil left them no time for practice with the arms, the arms they were forbidden to wield regardless, if only furtively. As such most igg champions had practiced with the tools of their trade: hammers, sledges, spades; yet spades and hammers were a poor match for the firestone-tipped swords.

What good is a challenger that cannot win, except for watering the Father Tree? Perhaps An will make them toil less next cycle as, Order knows, the ens need plucking. Too many have grown too obtuse, too fat, and too slow, an easy prey to an ambition upstart. Still, he doubted that any of them unlearned the swordplay so thoroughly that they could lose to a lowly igg wielding a smith’s hammer for a weapon. Although he heard rumors of certain ones preparing with real arms. There’d always been such rumors… But come the rite of the Coming of Age followed by the celebration of the Burning of the Hides, nothing unexpected would come to pass and the rumors would remain just that, the rumors, the empty talk. Who knows, maybe this time it would be different? A part of him hoped that it would be. Sooner or later the old must part with their lives and make room for the young, their blood watering the Sacred Grove and their lifeless dry bodies feeding the pyre. What is the point in growing feeble and weak? Few did, thank Order for the Tree of Life! The Sacred Grove kept the ens alive while the endless toil kept the iggs busy.

What of the tree? One might ask. There was a time when the Sacred Grove did not yet bloom and the Father Tree was not yet planted. Those were the cycles at the dawn of time when the iggs and the ens were one and therefore rightfully called themselves the Ones. Back then the words still held their original meaning, but not anymore. The Ones were not one now, but rather two, some may say seven if you count all the ranks, or eight if you include the Light Ones. Oh yes, the Light Ones! Where’d they come from? It all had started with the Father Tree, An remembered, or so the Elders taught him. Before the Father Tree was ever planted, the Ones were one, all of equal stature, equal life span, and equal strength. Then in one swift passing a cosmic storm had brought them a seed that grew into a tree. The seed was hidden in a crystal inside a rock, a meteor that did not burn but shattered on impact revealing a surprise gift within.

The Ones had gotten cosmic seeds before, so they planted it to see if it would take, and took it did, and grew into a tree magnificent and sprawling. The tree matured and brought fruit, which few partook. Those lucky Ones who had the taste of it would change forever. Come malting time, they’d malt to grow bigger, their bodies looked renewed and young once more. And those who didn’t could only envy it, yet they could do little for the Father Tree grew slowly and bore fruit only once per cycle, and those who ate the fruit were stronger now, and they usurped the tree and all its fruits just for themselves, allowing only a select few to eat of it. Ens they called themselves, the Ones who Command. And iggs they called the rest, the Ones who Toil.

Few lucky iggs they chose to join their ranks when the Fruit was plentiful had to be the best, for mediocrity was not worth preserving as it preserves itself by multiplying easily and lingering without effort. All Ones were one and mediocre in their unity until the gift of the Father Tree, but equal they were no longer. Only in death, perhaps, the Ones became one again. All dead are equal…

The Ones who Ate the Fruit tended the Tree protecting it, and set up a grove by sacrificing their renewal to the Tree and planting the fruits they had not eaten. Few died at times, unable to renew, their blood was water for the grove, and their bodies were food to fertilize the saplings, for nothing can be gained without a sacrifice, they understood it perfectly back then. Too few still understood it now. Too few…

An did, but there was no sacrifice for him to make. Not yet, not now as all of his duties were preordained: command the ens and whip the iggs, and so keep the Order of Things going. The irony of his position was not lost on An. Perhaps out of all Ones he was the one least free. This was a sacrifice so grand he could not add another. The One in Command was but a slave to the Order. The sacred Order was his to keep and all had to obey. Too bad there wasn’t a scroll with the upkeep instructions, but he had the Seer to advise him on such matters when the commands did not roll off his mind with ease. This did not happen very often, but when it did the Seer was always there to advise him on what to do, and so it was this time. The Seer had been urging An to sprout an heir. An heir in name only, not in station. The rank and status were not hereditary for the ens, although some wished they were. How many were corrupt so? An could not say. He wondered, why have an heir at all if all that one inherits is a name? Yet multiplied they did and every en and igg have had one. The worthy ones will rise up the ranks and fill their father’s shoes not by decree or privilege of birth, but by the valor of their deeds and brightness of their mind, and sometimes, of course, by chance. Oh, chance! An needed it when he had challenged Kro and saw the giant stumble, slip, and fall exposing his unprotected neck as An was dodging his savage blows. Kro was twice the size of An and thrashed his blade like a mad reaper. It would have cut An in half like a straw, but An was faster, so he ran. He ran and ran around the arena with Kro close on his tail, swinging and poking with his enormous blade, seeking to chop the foolish challenger to pieces. For An the most horrifying thing to see was that Kro was not growing tired of the chase, but An was. Kro’s blade swung closer and closer, kissing on and slicing through An’s scales. In no time Kro’s blade was blue with blood. An’s blood ran down his tail. Kro stepped on it and… slipped, and tumbled exposing his unprotected neck where scales were missing. An swung at it, Kro parted with his head. The crowd gasped, then silence fell, heavy as wax on ears. And so An lived when Kro lived no longer. One life had to be taken and Chance decided to take Kro’s.

Did An pray for chance when he challenged Kro? Surely not, for only fools would pray for chance and An was a fool not. Yet somehow he knew he had to challenge Kro three-scores him senior. To anyone else (or anyone sane) this idea was nothing short of a suicide, but not to An. Somehow he knew that he had to do it, he felt compelled and powerless to resist the urge. So many things cannot be contemplated or comprehended rationally, and this was one of them. Sometimes An felt that thinking with his head was not for him, and challenged Kro to prove the point. If his head was so useless then he was not risking much by losing it to Kro…

An did not think back then at the arena when he was dancing away from Kro’s deadly blows. His body did the moving, he only watched his hands swing over Kro’s bare neck when the opportunity presented itself. Then his ears heard a sonorous roar followed by a hollow silence, and then he heard the Seer proclaim him the One In Command, the youngest in this station in the history of the Ones, a feat thought impossible until then. Everything is impossible until it is done.

Much to An’s surprise nobody challenged him when the time came for the first Burning of the Hides of his command. There was no shortage of lower ens that were bigger and stronger than An, yet nobody stepped forth to challenge him. Was it because they were so enamored by his feat of slaying the dreadful Kro? Or was this a show of genuine respect for their new One in Command? It was impossible to tell, and An’s command remained unchallenged for all the following cycles. Now when An was ripe and corpulent, he wondered if there would be anyone so foolish as to challenge him this cycle. Maybe An ought to show his neck to make way for the challenger, come a worthy one? The order needs a bit of chaos to truly thrive. The order needs chaos to exist at all like light needs shadow to contrast itself against. Without chaos, there could be no order, and the last many cycles were woefully uneventful as far as life on the Homeworld was concerned. An had himself to thank for that for his command was steady and his decrees were clear and effective. Yet he was growing bored, and his wife not giving him an heir was not helping his mood either. Without an heir to look forward to – even if potential – what was the purpose of stumbling from one cycle to the next? Soon he would outgrow his already lofty quarters and would be forced to live in the courtyard of the Royal Apex, or worse yet, in the Sacred Grove next to the Father Tree. Now that would be a sight to behold! The One in Command, a living statue, too large to live indoors. Too huge and too frightening to be challenged, yet somehow undying. An could feel his age despite all the renewals. He was old, even if his body was still strong. Sometimes An wondered if it was a thought of having an heir that kept him alive. An heir in name if not in status or title. A little tiny being that he would not even see for the first twenty cycles of its life, and he would see only occasionally thereafter unless, of course, Ninna would make room for him among the stewards. Of course, she would, Ninna would find a way. An would bet that she would scheme to have someone killed to enact an elaborate chain of succession that would resolve itself by making room among An’s stewards for her flesh and blood. That one could scheme, oh yes. An needed not to be worried about not seeing his son – and he was certain that it would be a son – Ninna would make it happen.

Be as it may, An had no heir to scheme for as Ninna failed to give him one, still. Every cycle she would lay an egg, yet every time the egg would not hatch and kiss the flames of the pyre during the Burning of the Hides. For An it was more like the ‘burning of the shells’: each time he burned his emptiness and only got more void in return. The egg would crack revealing the hollow within, the same lacuna that An felt inside, the void that bit and pulled on each cell of his body forcing him to collapse inwards into one primordial singularity. There was no escape from this feeling. An could tell the eggs were empty without even handling them, by the way they sat a little crooked to one side and by how they swayed too easily on cushions in the nest when Ninna rearranged them. Fertile eggs do not lean and do not sway. Yet every time he said nothing. He did not say a word to Ninna and allowed her to be busy pretending. This was what she did best – pretend. She pretended all her life to be his queen, a royal consort to the One in Command. Although this is what she was, in truth, she did not know what it meant, so she chose to pretend to be what she did not understand. And she pretended to be a mother for her empty eggs every cycle she laid them. And every cycle he would see them in the pyre, cracking, shattering, revealing nothing but the hollow of her soul. How did he even marry this One? He thought. It had been so long… Has it been fifty cycles? Sixty? Seventy? After a while numbers lose their sense and meaning and become indistinguishable abstract curves on a recording plate. He married her after they both emerged from the nursery during their Coming of Age. He was young and foolish, and she was slender and graceful. He was but a junior en with a growing aspiration to become an En Most High, one of the twelve most trusted advisors to the One in Command. Back then An did not dream of challenging Kro, yet his aspirations and ambitions were written all over him, and this was what attracted Ninna to him. And she was beautiful, and irresistibly so.

He remembered how her face changed when he announced his challenge to Kro, and how her face transformed again when he defeated Kro and took his place as the One in Command. She was no longer the same, they both were no longer the same, although perhaps for very different reasons. She wanted the status and the position; he did not know what he wanted. True, An wanted to defeat Kro and take his place, but he did not know why. It was the need that he felt, yet the reason failed to make itself known to him. Perhaps there was no reason, only a need. An needed to serve, and he felt that by becoming the ruler of the Homeworld he would be able to serve the Ones the most. He would do his best by issuing the most rational and wise decrees and seeing the Ones prosper, yet few things changed after he poured Kro’s blood at the roots of the Father Tree. An had his new stewards spread Kro’s ashes through the Sacred Grove, yet beyond the occasional meade talk, the Homeworld did not notice. The Homeworld didn’t care. Ens were busy commanding, and iggs were hard at toiling. Nobody cared that An took Kro’s place. Nobody but Ninna. She took it upon herself to play her part to the fullest and pretend to be the consort that she was, but could not be without pretending. How is that, that feigning to be something is more meaningful than being? The game is the same, yet the outcomes are different… There is one thing that we cannot change, and it is our nature. We are what we are and we do what we do regardless of positions and titles we hold. Even after becoming the One in Command, An was still a junior en at heart, obsessed with service, and Ninna played the games she always played since her cycles at the Nursery. So nothing’s changed, only the number of horns on his ceremonial helm did. Everything else remained the same with the only difference being that he took orders from the Seer now, and not the other ens.

Oh yes, enter the Seer! How many times An could not think of how to act and he resorted to summoning this old sly one with a beard – a shiny river of silvery tangles – long as the history of the Homeworld itself? The Seer never disappointed him and always had his answers, and with time An grew accustomed to listening to the gaunt old Elder in threadbare ancient robes as old as he, which in their general disorder matched his spectacular long beard perfectly. Perhaps An preferred it this way: still taking orders while serving, but serving who or what exactly? He was not sure. An thought he served the Ones by commanding them, yet those were the Seer’s instructions that he carried out. Did it mean that he served the Seer? The Elder was a Light One, and his reasons were not to be questioned or challenged by anyone, not even An. An wished that he had more wits about him, more passion, and more reasons, yet he felt hollow, the Seer’s soothing words granting him relief, like opium. Half the time An did not know what to think or do and thanked Order for the Seer who did his thinking for him. What was required of An was to ask the right questions, and the questions were plenty. No shortage of questions, for life on the Homeworld boomed, Ens running the affairs of the world and igg population growing.

By now An half regretted challenging Kro in the arena. Perhaps he wanted to die back then and could not find a better way of parting with his life than by challenging the awesome Kro. Perhaps he wanted to kill himself, for he recognized Ninna for what she was, an actress, all of the Homeworld her theater, and An was her producer… Yet fate decided to have it differently and against all odds made An the victor. Salute the chance! His chance, a total transformation of such a dull beginning into something potentially more sinister and dreadful. When one fears the future the prospects are always frightening.

At times he thought that maybe he’d joined Ninna in her troupe and now they were two mummers performing for the Homeworld, each playing a different role: An’s was well-scripted and Ninna’s improvised. An could not improvise, and that made him a sour sight to watch as he stumbled from one act to the next predictably and without a twist of plot. Ninna’s part, however, came naturally to her, giving An even more reasons to brood.

An watched his city drowning in the twilight, dark thoughts weighing on him heavily. Ninna was overdue. Her belly bulged uncomfortably from the two large eggs she was caring for the last nine cycles. Nine cycles! No less… It was beginning to look to An that she would never lay them, for nine cycles of burden seemed like an eternity even to An, whose cycles were beyond count. Would these two eggs turn out empty shells as well? Why was it that Ninna could not produce him an heir? Or any offspring for that matter, whether a light one or a dark one, or a nin.

An could not find an answer, yet his mind ached for resolution. She must lay soon, he thought, his gaze transfixed on the horizon. There hasn’t been a time in history when a royal consort did not unburden herself for that long. Nor has there ever been a heirless royal family, not since the time of the Moss Eater’s rebellion, which was spoken of only fables. Did it truly happen? The Elders told stories of great chaos that ensued when the One in Command had died without sprouting an heir. The iggs led by the reviled Moss Eater rose up against the ens who were powerless and placid without their ruler, and weak with corruption. What else a childless death could be if not a sign of a festering disease? Moss Eater seized upon the idea and drove the point home with an efficiency of a spear going through a putrid corpse.

An would not allow the Order of Things to come to naught on his watch. He will have an heir. He’ll live forever if he must. He’ll outlive Ninna and marry again if that’s what it would take. Yet the possibility of his barren consort outlasting him was troubling. There was a chance…

An frowned and left the balcony, returning to his throne. The worries undermine my faith in the Order, he thought, settling down and trying to lull himself into a sense of reassurance even if a false one, The Order of Things will make it certain that I have an heir. What happened to the Order of Things during the Moss Eaters uprising, he did not want to think of. That fable must be a lie, a narcoleptic fantasy of some delusional Elder recorded in his shaggy beard in lieu of a memory. Yet lies were not spoken on the Homeworld, the fable must be true, and he is perilously close to dying childless.

Suddenly, the doors leading to his great throne room swung open and an elderly priestess approached him ghastly. She hurriedly collected herself, kneeled, and proudly announced: “Ninna has laid the eggs, sire!”

The eggs? The eggs! What a relief. An rose gracefully from his throne and approached the priestess. “Rise, Emma”, he commanded. She stood up straight, but she was only waist-high compared to An’s huge, tall figure. “I see that finally she laid!”, An continued speaking to the priestess. She brought him this news so many times before, but each time the eggs didn’t hatch. Why would it be different now? He knew the priestess long enough to be afraid not of her judgment and spoke his mind freely to her. She was an igg. What do iggs understand about the dealings of Ens? But this one did, no doubt, she did, and very well so.

“What do you think, priestess?”, An pressed on, “Will they hatch?”

“Of course, they will, sire!”, she replied politely. She told him the same thing every time, “The Order commands it so”.

An did not believe the words the priestess uttered. He could not expect anything different from her but the same words of reassurance. Annoyed, An sent her away. Now when he was alone in the great hall, An could allow his emotions to overtake him. He strode back and forth, restless, like a lion in a cage. He went to the balcony only to return to the great hall. Something was different this time. He could feel it. Perhaps the eggs will not turn up empty this time? Perhaps they will hatch? Oh, what a joy that would be! Perhaps he should seek the council of the Seer. But where would he find him? Summoning the Seer was not an easy task.

The Light Ones did not obey the Order of Things to the same extent the Ends did, the Dark Ones. For ens venturing above the level of their rank was forbidden, and venturing below was frowned upon or even laughed at. The Light Ones cared not about such things but generally confined themselves to their level, which soared higher even than the An’s tower. But the Seer could be anywhere, perhaps even among the iggs for the Seer did as he pleased. The Seer found strange joy in learning from the iggs, whatever was there to learn An did not know. But learning was a matter for the Light Ones. An, like all the ens, concerned himself chiefly with the matters of command.

Perplexed and conflicted, An sent for the Seer.

Ninna had never felt comfortable in the confines of the Fifth Eye, and now, when her belly had grown even bigger than she could have ever imagined, she did not feel like leaving her quarters despite the discomfort and the unrest building up inside of her. Two large eggs she cradled within her swollen tummy seemed to feast on her bones making her joints scream with pain.

Ninna commanded her maid Ninra to spray the weightlessness dust around the Apex of the Fifth Eye so she could float there suspended in midair. The electrified dust clung to her skin pulling on it firmly, lifting her burdened body gently above the floor. Sometimes, when Ninra gave her an unusually ill-measured fresh puff, Ninna felt her body lifting and turning as countless tiny invisible hands grabbed on and pulled on her every which way they wanted. In moments like this, she could float anywhere in her quarters. Next time I should float to the window, she thought. There was a trio of large round windows at the top of the smooth gently curving wall enclosing the Fifth Eye. Most of the time Ninna could not reach the windows as the tug of the electrified dust was wearing off before she could complete her ascent. Yet every time she tried.

When Ninra gave her a fresh dousing of the electrified motes, Ninna felt a particularly strong tug, bent her knees, and pushed the floor away. She was rising faster than before, with golden motes swirling around her, sparkling. Ninna did not feel the air rushing by as she ascended, the dust deflected it forming a semblance of a bubble around Ninna’s body. Perhaps Ninra genuinely miscalculated the quantity of dust she gave Ninna this time, or perhaps she did so on purpose as day after day she watched Ninna jump and ascend, reaching for the window sill high above, yet falling short every time. Jumping too high was ill-advised for the landing could be harder than expected, and the hard landing meant nothing good for Ninna or her eggs… Yet today she was floating higher and higher, and faster than before. Forgetting all caution, Ninna stretched her hands and grabbed the window sill she never could reach before. Wrapped in a sparkling cocoon of myriads of swarming motes, Ninna steadied herself and peered outside.

Outside, the One City was drowning in an orange glow as ever. Strangely beautiful and mysterious licks of the orange fog flowed between the towers, crashing into the bridges and separating into the entwining filaments that curved around the obstacles like snakes. The fog seemed alive and wickedly curious as it whirled and slithered looking for crevices to enter and explore.

Ninna felt a sudden urge to let the serpent fog into the Fifth Eye. She found a lever and pulled on it. Her weightlessness, however, deprived her of any leverage and she merely rose higher, her dark silhouette emerging starkly against the bright glow of the window. On her way up Ninna managed to catch the lever with her foot and wrapped her claws around it, she gave it a sharp kick. Reluctantly, the window tilted allowing the thick orange pudding to ease its way inside. The fog oozed slowly, like honey. Ninna stretched out her hand to scoop some, it was a mistake. The motes around her hand had sensed the presence of the fog and rushed towards it, trading hosts. The defecting motes thinned out Ninna’s protective cocoon of weightlessness, the fog absorbed them like a sponge.

The sudden return of gravity caught Ninna completely off guard. One instant she was floating next to the window, and the next she’d donned a heavy weight that pulled her down sharply. She screamed and grabbed onto the sill. She was hanging now, her claws digging in sharply into the grey stone, the gelatinous orange fog pouring over her. With no electric dust left around her, Ninna was holding on for dear life. Ninra shrieked, she looked terrified and frozen where she stood, not knowing what to do.

Before long, Ninna’s arms were growing tired and could not hold on any longer, forcing her to let go of the sill. Ninna closed her eyes and let the thick orange fog carry her down in its gelatinous flow. It was strangely beautiful and tranquil. Is this how my life ends? Ninna thought, feeling the air rushing by as she descended. The floor drew closer, and she could see the look of horror on Ninra’s face. The death, however, did not follow. The wall was curving gently towards the floor; the chamber of the Fifth Eye was egg-shaped. This curve had caught Ninna transforming her descent into a slide.

In one great whirl, carried by a turbulent tangle of the fog Ninna collided with her maid, and both went tumbling towards the opposite wall knocking the electrified dust dispenser off its stand. The golden motes spilled out in a happy flock, locking Ninna and Ninra in a lucid embrace. There were too many motes and the orange fog could not absorb them all. In no time Ninna and Ninra were cocooned and bouncing chaotically among the crests of the orange waves invading the Fifth Eye.

Instead of being terrified, Ninna laughed. For the first time in many cycles, she felt genuinely happy, floating weightlessly and watching the chamber of the Fifth Eye spin around her. It was a sweet chaos, devoid of nausea, and she hoped that it would never end. At one point she glimpsed a wildly thrashing Ninra bouncing by, the expression on her face was sheer panic, a frozen mask of terror hiding underneath the veil of the swarming golden motes. Before long Ninra passed out. Her body turned stiff as a stick and bounced awkwardly, making Ninna laugh.

Eventually, the fog sucked in all the golden motes and Ninna landed softly on the floor, Ninra flopped nearby. Miraculously, the second Ninra’s stiff body met the floor, her mouth twitched and her eyes widened as she came back from her stupor. Wasting no time, she jumped on her feet like a ninja and rushed to Ninna. “Are you alright, Your Hollowness?” she asked, voice trembling, as she tried to steady herself on her feet and wipe the remnants of the horror from her face.

Your Hollowness, the familiar words echoed through Ninna’s mind. Meant as an exaltation, these words eventually took a different meaning for Ninna. She had been hollow, yes, for she needed room within her for eggs to grow. The Ones hallowed the void as the mother of being. The void gives birth, the void creates, for nothing that is already full can accommodate anything new. That much she knew, yet somehow she feared that all she would ever be was just that, void.

Ninna quickly brushed away the unwelcome thought, by now she was sitting on the floor, her body shaking. Ninra knelt next to her, reached out with her hand, and only then realized that her master, the Hallowed Void and the Royal Consort to the One in Command was laughing. Bewildered and confused, Ninra could not think of anything better than to laugh with her master. Two nins sat laughing on the floor, hugging and kissing, laughing, with orange fog swirling around them and rising to the ceiling where it formed peculiar tufty clouds sparkled with occasional golden freckles of the electric dust.

The sound of the sudden commotion surprised the guards who broke the chamber’s doors down to enter the Fifth Eye. Ninna had always had Ninra lock the chamber when they were there alone. The remnants of the door were sparkling with the golden dust and floating chaotically midair with smaller parts taking up higher to the ceiling. One of the guards slipped on the condensation from the fog, which managed to form a small puddle of red mud on the floor, and nearly fell. The other guard had caught him by the neck and pulled him back towards the entrance to the chamber. Realizing that there was no immediate danger, the first guard had swung one of the floating pieces of the door towards the window’s lever. He did not miss. The piece hit the lever on its far end, moving it to close the window and cutting off the orange waterfall. As the last sheet of the ethereal jelly slid down to the floor, the guard announced: “Looks like this chamber is in need of cleaning, Your Hollowness. Shall I summon iggs?”

Ninna wanted to wave him away, but a sudden cramp in her belly cut her motion short. Instead, she groaned and clutched her hands around the massive bulge on her waist.

“Your Hollowness?” The guard’s voice was sounding concerned, yet he dared not approach closer.

The reply came from Ninra, who was holding the Royal Consort by her shoulders, hugging and rocking her gently: “Send for the Priestess, you fool! Go! Now!”

The guard disappeared in the corridor, leaving the other sentry by the smashed door.

“Ninra…” the voice of the Royal Consort was soft and weary. “The eggs… do you think they will be empty this time as well? They were always empty…” Ninna’s laughter changed to sobbing, “Why are they always empty? What am I going to tell An? I should have crashed and died!” There was no trace of jolliness left in her voice, only fear and grief. Perpetual boundless grief. What could be worse than delivering another disappointment to the One in Command? Being the only failure in his perfect world? The Hallow Void that does not birth, she thought. A threat to the Order of Things that her husband labored so hard to bring to perfection. Am I supposed to be his undoing? Ninna wondered, still clutching the bump on her belly. The bump was moving now, slowly and lower, towards the birth canal. There was no time…

“Ninra! Quickly! Help me to my feet.” Ninna commanded.

“Is this wise, my lady?” Ninra protested meekly.

“There is no time, Ninra, do as I tell you. Help me to the Apex.”

Ninra reluctantly pulled the Royal Consort onto her feet, put her arm around her shoulders and they both waddled to the Apex of the Fifth Eye. If the guard was watching, he would have seen a slimy rut of blood and placenta peeling from under Ninna’s tail. He faced the corridor, however, with his back to the Royal Consort, a firestone-tipped spear in his hand, determined to preserve the sanctity of the royal birth.

Back at the Apex, Ninna felt strangely calm. “I feel them coming, Ninra”, she said as she was clutching her maid’s hand. “Any moment now, argh!” She screamed, but not in pain – the One’s birth was painless – but rather in surprise. The egg was there, right at the cusp of the emergence, yet when it slid out the feeling of it was so sudden as the dropping of fine China on the floor, a scary surprise mixed with silky wetness of rupture, blood mixed with placenta, yet no pain. A confusing mix of feelings formed a cacophony in Ninna’s mind. Ninna had experienced the disconcert of birth many times, yet there was no getting used to it. As she felt the egg emerge from underneath her she had no time to look at it as she was hit with the second wave of urge, an anxiety mixed with pleasure. The second egg approached the birth canal. All Ninna could do was to shift her weight onto her feet and move her tail a foot or two to a side such that the second egg did not come on top of the first one already laid. And as she did she felt a swarm of sharp icicles pierce her spine and endorphins flooding her mind followed by the sensation of another fine crystal being awkwardly let down to the floor. The second egg emerged with a dull thud and settled next to the first one in the nest.

Only now Ninna realized that she was holding her robes by her hands up over her long slender legs, too high for necessity. Yet her legs were blue with her blood and most with her placenta. She was still drunk on rupture and dazed. She paid no mind to maids, a few had arrived with the Priestess, all too late, yet they were busy cleaning her: her legs, her feet, the eggs, and under her tail. Ninra was still holding her by the shoulders, whispering. “You can let go of your gown now, Your Hollowness. You are clean now. The eggs are here.” She waved the servant iggs away, who by now had finished mopping the streak Ninna left on the floor and crowded by the door, gawking at the two eggs in the nest.

“Will they hatch?” Ninna asked the Priestess, trying to hide despair in her voice.

“Of course they will, my Hallow Void” was the reply, the same reply she heard during all her previous layings. The priestess’ gaze was transfixed on the eggs. Clean, but still most from the birth they glistened softly in the dim orange light. The priestess was watching the eggs too, as if she tried to see through them and to discover what was hiding beneath the smooth white shells. The smaller egg was leaning, it wasn’t a good sign, although the larger one was perfectly straight.

Suddenly they all saw the larger egg move. Ninna gasped. She squeezed Ninra’s hand so hard, that her sharp claws tore through her maid’s skin with bright blue drops of blood growing underneath. Ninra’s gaze was glued firmly to the eggs, she did not notice the abuse done by her hand.

“Wait… is that… a CRACK?” Ninra pointed with her other hand toward the larger egg, “Look, there!” she kept pointing, “I see a crack! Look!”

Ninna was afraid to look. The Royal Consort had to summon all of her courage to lift her head up and focus on the larger egg. A tiny hair-like black lightning crisscrossed the smooth porcelain surface of the egg. The crack was growing wider, and then it stopped. All three of them – Ninna, Ninra, and the Priestess – leaned closer in unison, as by command, and saw it. There was a tiny glimmer of a pupil of an eye visible through the crevice.

“I must tell An…”, Ninna heard herself say. Still in disbelief she came closer, bent over, and peered into the crack. Something alive stirred lazily within. She reached out with her hand only to be stopped by the Priestess. “Don’t”, the Priestess said calmly, “Do not touch the egg. It is forbidden”. The Priestess gently pulled Ninna away.

They watched as the top of the shell lifted slightly and fell back again, then lifted one more time, and fell back again. It took the newborn several tries to rid itself of the chip on top of the shell and to reveal himself. A sudden gasp left Ninna’s lips leaving her awestruck. A newborn! By now she was so accustomed to laying barren eggs that the sight of the live birth startled her. All three of them were startled, even though both Ninra and the Priestess had seen plenty of live births before, but they did not expect it from Ninna…

Their adoration was interrupted by the commotion in the corridor caused by the arrival of An. It has been a long time since An left the confines of the Sixths Level to venture down to the Fifths or anywhere else for that matter. The guards were as surprised to see An as they were to see Ninna’s eggs hatch. Ninna was awestruck. Her heart was beating wildly as she loudly breathed out her excitement. “An!” she addressed him, perhaps too informally for the occasion, then she remembered and recomposed herself, straightened up, assumed a royal posture, and uttered solemnly, “The One in Command, may I present you with the heir!” She gestured towards the hatched egg, from which the wet glistening head of a youngling was protruding.

An had to lower his head as he forced himself awkwardly through the shattered door into the chamber of the Fifth Eye. I forgot how big he was! Thought Ninna, It has been too long since he came down to see me, she realized with sadness that it’s been nearly a full cycle. Past few cycles An was growing reclusive and aloof. He hardly left the Sixths level and Ninna could not recall the last time he summoned her up, if not for mating. Stupid order! Ninna bristled at the notion that being the Royal Consort did not give her the right to go up to the Sixths level to see her husband unless he summoned her. Why would An uphold something so galling? it made no sense to her. The last time she dared to ask, An stared at her blankly and explained as if talking to a child: “All Ones have their stations in life, Ninna, you know that as well as I do. Such is the Order of Things. What would it do to the Order, If the Ones were allowed to change their stations? It would be chaos, and chaos devours everything. If I were you, wandering freely between the levels would be the last thing I’d worry about. Give me an heir, Ninna. Give me an heir!”

She never could. And the shame of it was growing inside her, filling up the void that was meant for something else. This evil feeling grew like a mushroom, clinging on to the shell of her body and colonizing the space within. With every barren laying she felt less and less sure of herself. Lately she could not bear to look An into the eyes and always stared at her feet when he summoned her. She did not make as much of a sound when they mated and left quietly when they were done. How did it come to this?

But today was different. She felt proud and for the first time in many cycles she looked An into the eyes with courage and command of due respect.

“An, come closer, don’t be afraid! He won’t bite!” she laughed nervously. The calmness and courage were just a facade on her pretty face, the nervous laughter betrayed her true feelings, even if for a moment. He? She said ‘he’. How did she know? She did not. Ninna was so eager to please An, she told him what he wanted to hear all these cycles, that he had a son.

An took his time to move closer, and Ninna now came to regret her boast that she let slip so hastily. She swallowed a tear and put up a mask once more, approached An and took him by the hand. His hands were huge, his claws long stilettos, the most she could do was to wrap hers around his finger. There was a strange pleasure in the sensation of the touch of her soft skin against the hard scales of his hand, as if she never touched him before. The sensation was eerily similar to the one she felt when An touched her for the first time. Ninna felt an excitement she did not feel in… forever. The excitement of her youth was suddenly alive! The excitement she felt when she just met An. They both were young and foolish, and life seemed wonderful. So much has changed… Yet now, when they both stared at the newborn, the hope was making a comeback. She can bear him other children too. She knew it now that she could.

“Let’s celebrate!” she said, clutching An’s hand. Reluctantly An pulled his huge hand away from her and pointed at the second, smaller egg, which sat crookedly next to the larger one, which had already hatched. Amidst the excitement of the hatching, the second egg was all but forgotten. Now everyone could see that it was not balanced, it was leaning precariously against his larger brother, which was not a good sign.

The other egg! Ninna thought frantically, I have another egg! Why do I care? Why would he care when the first one is already hatched? She was determined not to allow the empty shell of the second egg to steal away her joy. How does An find a way to squash my happiness, when it is so rare? Does he always have to point at a defect? His precious Order commands it! She was beginning to boil on the inside with blue blush creeping up her cheeks. I am not going to allow him to ruin this moment for me, oh no, not now, when I waited for so long to be celebrated. It is my moment now. Mine! The Chaos take your Order! She almost said the last part aloud, when she noticed the smaller egg bounce and roll off to a side, forcing the larger egg to tip over, spilling the hapless youngling out of its crumbling shell.

Both An and Ninna were so awestruck, they forgot to breathe. Ninna could only hear An’s tail lash from side to side, the black shiny tip of it brushing against the wall. The Priestess’ mouth was opening and closing yet making no sound, the golden scroll she was holding under her arm sliding slowly to the floor.

By now the smaller egg had cracked as well. A tiny youngling climbed out briskly, circled the empty shell, and came nose to nose with his bigger brother, sniffing at him by darting his forked tongue.

“He is a curious one!” announced the Priestess. He! He, he he! Ninna felt soaring, the ceiling of the chamber gone. Joy and excitement bubbled through her every vesicle. She wanted to leap and fly out of the window and be one with the orange glow and the red swirling fog permeating it.

She clasped her tiny hand hard around An’s clawed finger, tugging on it as she announced: “Your Radiance, may I present you Lil and Ki, your sons”, she emphasized the word sons. The moment was hers now, there was no question about it. After so many barren layings, cycles of humiliation and exclusion she finally succeeded at what was expected of her from the beginning. She gave An not one but two heirs, both of them male. There was no denying it now, and the moment was hers to celebrate. She will be celebrated now, finally! Oh, yes.

An watched as two tiny lizards crawled away from their milky shells and curled up on the floor beneath the feet of their mother, their air pouches rising and falling rhythmically. They both had slanted eyes, smooth glistening skin, six toes with tiny black claws on each foot, and patches of blue scales on their neck (this is how Ninna knew they were males).

“Wait!” the Priestess interjected unexpectedly, “You’ve got a Light One!” she pointed her crooked finger with a cracked uneven claw to the smaller newborn, Ki.

The shock of her words hung heavy in the air, An and Ninna staring at Ki in disbelief. For so many cycles they tried, and now when their efforts were rewarded with not one but with the two sons, why did one of them have to be a Light One? The Light Ones were rare, very rare, and they were not considered heirs as their lives lay outside of the Order of Things. But no matter, there still was Lil, a Dark One, like the rest of ens and iggs. It does not matter if Ki is a Light One, or does it? An was perplexed and did not know what to do with the information he was given. Ninna was equally confused and fought hard to keep the mask of victory upon her flushed face. She was determined not to allow the news – any news – to take away from her triumph. There would have been more glory for her if she paraded two sons during the celebration of the Rite of Hatching, but one will do just fine. She cannot be blamed for birthing a Light One no more than the orange skies of the Homeworld can be blamed for raining occasional meteors, not when she had hatched a proper heir as well. A proper heir… this thought brought up a bubbling wave of disquiet through Ninna, the wave she had been pushing down for too long. There was no guarantee that Lil would indeed be An’s heir and succeed him as the One in Command. Yet she worked so hard to make it possible. The seemingly endless barren cycles had allowed her to broach her agenda on the Ens Most High, each one of them by now had more than one male offspring, some still at the Nursery, others at various stations through the One City. Surely they all wanted their children to succeed them rather than wither away at some thankless low station that was beneath their birth?

She spoke to their nins about it, surprised at how little they cared. The only childless nin among them, she seemed to care the most. Back she only dreamed of having sons, this seemed like eons ago. Now when her wish was granted, she was determined to see the rest of it through. It was almost time for An to hold High Council, and she was certain that the matter would come up as she was relentlessly massaging the idea into the nins’ pointy bony heads. Surely they talked to their ens, they could have not to… but they must have!

This was a matter for another heartbeat, now it was time to celebrate.

Ninna turned to An and spoke, carefully crafting her words: “This moment is ours to cherish. It is time to celebrate the hatching of your heir!” Despite her best effort at courtesy she sounded demanding, “The One in Command! Will you command a celebration of the Rite of Hatching?”

The unsubtle force hiding in her voice woke up An from the trance: “What? Yes, of course, I will command the celebration of the Rite of Hatching!” he proclaimed in a booming voice with all his iron authority, “But first we must deal with this”, he pointed at Ki.

Ki might have looked exactly like his big brother, but by now it was clear even to the guards that he was different, very different indeed. Lil was lying quietly, curled up by his mother’s feet, his pulsating air pouches were the only moving part about him as he was waiting patiently. Ki, on the other hand, was squirming, his long black tongue darting restlessly, his head turning in all directions as he tried to circle his mother and father on the floor, yet his long tail was caught up beneath his big brother, so Ki could move only as far as the length of his tail allowed, which was not much, his tiny feet scratching restlessly against the slate floor of the chamber.

“So restless…” Ninra remarked absent-mindedly, earning herself a glare from Ninna. Ninra lowered her eyes, “I beg your pardon, Your Hollowness, I meant to say…”

She interrupted her: “I need you to stay quiet, maid! My sons are perfect! Go, fetch us the Keeper!”

“And the Seer! Wherever he is.” added An, watching Ki as he was struggling to break free from the weight of his big brother’s body on his tail. Ki finally succeeded and waddled awkwardly towards his father’s feet. An recoiled, visibly disturbed. Was he afraid to step on it and crush the poor thing? The sight of it almost made Ninna smile, but she fought back the urge. Seeing mighty An unsure and seemingly afraid of a tiny youngling was amusing, to say the least.

Finally, An got a grip on himself and gave Ki a gentle shove towards his brother, who didn’t move all this time. “Here”, An said, “Go play with your brother, young one, you won’t be like to see him again anytime soon, or ever”. An knew that the Seer would take Ki to the Seventh Level, where he would be leaving with the other Light Ones. Who knows, might one day Ki would become a Seer himself? Then he might see his brother again but until then…. Until then he would never be seen among the ens as the Light Ones were not known to leave the vastness of their rocky abode above the city.

The Keeper arrived first. Judging by his look, it was not his first time at the Fifth Level for he seemed to navigate the corridors and the elevator knowingly as he approached the chamber of the Fifth Eye. He was an igg, all Keepers were. The Keeper’s work was beneath the rank of ens, and so he was there, standing in plain grey garb to cover his scales, a gilded cage in one hand and a basket of soft blue moss in another. He set his cargo on the floor, glanced at Lil and Ki and addressed Ninna: “I see there are two, Your Hollowness. I wasn’t told.” There was a tone of subtle insolence in his voice as he was searching for an excuse for not being prepared to take the two younglings. And then he found it, ”Which one am I taking?”

Ninna was visibly annoyed at Keeper’s impudence, yet managed to keep her face calm allowing a flare of anger to seethe in passing through her voice: “You are not here to collect my son, Keeper!” the way she uttered the last word meant to show the igg his place.

“You’ll have him after the Rite of Hatching,” An interjected, ignoring the obvious question in the Keeper’s voice, which one? The Nursery was not a home for the Light Ones, the Keeper had guessed correctly, but he could not tell which was which.

“Fine”, the Keeper was unperturbed, “Here is the cage to keep him in, and some moss for when he is hungry”, he pushed the cage and the basket with his foot towards the younglings. The movement caught the eye of Ki, and an ever restless youngling waddled towards the basket, bit on a strand of moss and pulled it over the edge, spilling its contents on the floor. If An had eyebrows, he would have raised them, but they way it went the Ones did not have eyebrows or eyelashes, or any hair of that sort.

The Keeper stared at the sight of Ki munching noisily on moss and continued ever unphased: “A hungry fella! I only brought moss enough for one. Should I come back and fetch some more? And a second cage, perhaps?”

“The Seer will see to him”, An waved the Keeper away, “Go now. You’ll have the Dark One after the rite”, An took a step and pointed to Lil, still curled up at his mother’s feet. Then he reached down and picked up Ki, bringing him up to his face. Blue moss dangled from the youngling’s mouth as it was making its way up through his tiny sharp teeth, “Who are you?” An looked intently in Ki’s tiny slanted eyes, as if trying to read his purpose.

The Keeper wanted to ask the same question but knew better, so he bowed lightly and left the room. As he was exiting through the shattered door he came up face to face with the Seer, an ancient Light One elder with a long and shiny silvery beard. The Keeper made way for the Seer to pass, glanced back over his shoulder at An, who was still holding Ki, studying him with queer curiosity, and continued through the corridor towards the elevator.

The Seer’s presence changed the atmosphere in the room, filling it with an invisible sense of the Devine. Was it his beard that made him so lofty? Or the aloof appearance of his unseeing eyes? The Seer was not blind, oh no, but the way he stared was strange. When he looked at you he seemed to look through you, and it was impossible to tell if he was really looking at you or probing your future with his mind’s eye.

The Seer glanced around the chamber. His eyes washed over Ninna, Ninra, and An before focusing on Ki, who by now had finished chewing on the moss in his mouth and was squirming to get away from An for a second helping. Unlike the Keeper, the Seer needed no telling which one was destined for his care. “I’ll take him, Your Radiance”, he addressed An as he approached, “Bid your farewells to Ki now,” he said addressing Ninna this time.

How did he know his name? Ninna wondered, taken aback by the Seer’s insight, surprised at how his commanding presence somehow managed to overpower An’s immensity. The Seer reached out for Ki and took him from An’s hands. At once Ki stopped squirming and stared at the Seer’s beard. Before long, his tiny claws were reaching for the silvery strands flowing down from the Seer’s face in a ghostly rolling waterfall.

The Seer tilted his head, moving his eyes closer to Ki’s yet placing his beard out of reach of the tiny sharp claws reaching for the strands: “I think I know who will succeed me”, the Seer uttered enigmatically without taking his eyes from Ki. Strangely, he was looking at him, as opposed to through him. Something has changed. Ninna felt relieved as she was trying to decide what to make of the words the Seer had said just now. Should she feel proud? The Seer was still a Light One and not an en, and therefore not a part of the Order of Things, yet An often had his council. A voluntary council, yes, but nonetheless a council. Before long Ninna made up her mind: she shall be proud of both Lil, the heir of the One in Command, and Ki, the future Seer, although none of this was certain. If she could be certain in her belief that was good enough for her. Her face relaxed and now took the most beautiful state since the strain had left the muscles of her neck and cheeks.

An seemed relieved as well. He turned to Ninra: “Put Lil in the cage and give him some moss. Don’t just stand there!” Ninra did as she was bid, and Lil obediently went into the cage, sniffing at a bunch of moss offered to him. “And summon Enra to meet me at the Apex of the Sixth Eye”, he added.

The last bit was unnecessary, however, since Enra was already standing behind An’s back beaming with excitement, his horned helmet shining brightly on his conical head, revealing five gently twisting golden horns. “You sent for me, Your Radiance?” he inquired politely.

He thought of putting on his ceremonial helmet, An noted satisfied. He was pleased that Enra was among the few ens he did not have to tell him what to do and how to act. Enra understood the Order of Things as well as he did, and An often thought that he would make a proper One in Command when it would be time for An to go. Which would be when exactly? That much was unknown, yet An was happy to see Enra on top of things. He knew he didn’t have to tell him what to do next, but the protocol required it.

“Prepare to the Rite of Hatching, The Second in Command!” An announced solemnly in a booming voice. We ride in one hundred heartbeats”.

“One hundred heartbeats?” Ninna interjected indignantly, “So soon?”

“It’s always been one hundred heartbeats, Your Hollowness”, An sounded annoyed although he was working hard to hide it, “The…”

“… Order of Things requires it”, she finished for him more prickly than she should have. Enra pretended not to notice. The Chaos take your Order! She thought bitterly, watching Enra preparing to utter another required yet meaningless courtesy before leaving.

“On my way, Your Radiance!” Enra bowed low, but not excessively, just the right amount his loyalty to and admiration of the One in Command required, and left.

“One hundred heartbeats!” Ninna glared at An when he left, “One hundred heartbeats? When I was waiting for this moment for countless cycles?”

“Ninety-six, actually”, An corrected her unphased, “Best waste not any more time or the celebration would be very short indeed”.

Speechless, Ninna turned away in dismay and stormed out of the room, her gown brushed at An’s feet as she passed.

The Rite of Hatching was held every time the Royal Consort hatched, but only when she did. Since Ninna’s had never laid a fertile egg before, it was going to be her first celebration, the one she longed for so many cycles. Now, when the moment was finally here, she felt strangely empty and lost.

Everything changed so quickly, she thought, And just as quickly it shall pass. The feeling of her fleeting happiness morphed into heavy foreboding and gloom. Why don’t I feel happy? Now, when I fulfilled my purpose and gave An the heir? Is it the Light One that troubles me? Ninna was not sure, despite her resolve to feel proud of Ki as well. Who knows, maybe he will indeed grow up to be the next Seer and will be advising Lil on matters of the rule. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Yet something ponderous was gnawing on her. Why is happiness ever so fleeting?

Ninna summoned her maid to help her dress for the rite. Ninra slipped a translucent silky gown over Ninna’s head and crowned her with a golden helm with five elegant curving horns on each side. Her outfit matched An’s, except that he wore six horns on his helm.

Ninra accompanied the Royal Consort to the elevator and descended with her to the ground level. The Sacred Grove was only a short walk away, this is where the royal procession was set to begin.

An was already there, waiting for her by the side of the royal litter, almost too big to fit inside it. He may need a new ride next cycle, Ninna thought as she watched iggs dressed in protective overalls applying a generous coating of firestone paste to the bottom of the litter to make it float. With each smear of the paste, the royal litter rose a little higher, until it was floating comfortably a foot or so above the ground. An unfolded the steps and helped Ninna climb inside. Ever so gallant, and ever so cold… An followed her, and the litter sagged a good six inches yet remained afloat.

Ninra hurried back into the tower and soon emerged with a gilded cage with squirming Lil inside, his slitted eyes wide open now, watching. Ninra handed the cage gently to Ninna, bowing: “Enjoy the Rite, Your Hollowness!” she uttered, backing away.

An waited for an igg to fold back the steps before he raised his hand commanding attention. He gave the honor to Enra. Tall and radiant, although not as big as An, Enra beamed with joy, his golden helm with five horns glistening brightly as the swirls of orange fog bounced off it. “On behalf of the One in Command, I hereby announce the Rite of Hatching.” Enra announced solemnly, ”Let the celebration begin!” he patted the side of the litter signaling a go.

The royal litter was little more than a gilded box adorned with intricate fractal geometric patterns on each side. There were two long poles attached to the sides of the litter. These were not so much for carrying but rather for steering. The litter floated on its own but it still needed the means of locomotion. Three scrawny iggs took up their position at each pole: six in the front and six in the back. Because iggs were generally much smaller than ens, and even though they did not need to carry the weight of the litter, it took all twelve of them to overcome the inertia that An’s massive body imparted on the ride. The porters grabbed the poles and pulled on them, slowly setting the litter in motion. From her seat Ninna could only see the heads and shoulders of her carriers, the sight of them made her realize the hidden meaning of their presence: It was the iggs that carried the load of ens. Over time this load became less heavy, yet a burden nonetheless.

The Sacred Grove was drowning in orange mist, with the Father Tree hardly discernible in the distance save for the large dark shadow it cast against the backdrop of the eternal glow. To help with visibility, the electrified dust dispensers were set up along the causeway the royal procession followed across the city; the servant iggs opened them at the site of the approaching royal ride. The sparkling golden motes attacked the fog and lifted its plumes high above the causeway like a blanket, revealing the royal couple to the crowd. So many… Ninna thought as she watched the unfamiliar faces of ens and nins lining the causeway. Was there anyone she knew? She couldn’t tell. So many… The One City might have looked empty in the fog with the mist concealing the happenings within. Now, with the fog rising, she could see the Ones. So many…

The gamut of faces walling off the causeway seemed endless, the stunned silence disconcerting. Occasionally Ninna could hear a quiet chatter, some pointed fingers at the gilded cage she held upon her knees. Should I raise it higher? She wondered, unsure of how An might react. Ever so reserved he always held her back. Why risk his disapproval? She put one hand on top of the cage but could not come up with anything better than to turn her head and smile.

An rode quietly, staring dead ahead, aloof as ever. Does anything make him excited? She wondered, Does he even know what it means to be happy? Did she know herself, what it meant to be happy for her? Whatever Ninna knew about happiness, she thought she had forgotten, until today. The feeling was returning to her gradually, tiny bubbles of excitement building up inside her. More, and more, and more, until she could no longer contain herself, so she lifted the cage, stood up, and held it high above her head: “All hail Lil! The long-awaited heir of the One in Command! All hail Lil!” she screamed on top of her lungs. The flurry of muttered words traveled through the crowd like a wave, bouncing off buildings, growing louder, and louder, reflecting and springing back, until the individual sounds merged, multiplied, and grew into a roar: “Hail, Lil! Hai,l Lil! Hail, Lil!” The chant rumbled sonorously throughout the One City.

For the first time, Ninna saw An come back to life. Alarmed at first, he stretched out his hand to pull her back down, the silent reprimand twitching his lips. Yet, unexpectedly, he changed his mind. An’s eyes twinkled with golden sparkles as he watched ens on both sides of the road chant Hail, Lil! as they passed. He looked amused, perhaps even proud, assuming he allowed such feelings to invade his heart.

Ninna continued to hold the gilded cage above her head screaming Hail, Lil! in unison with the roar of the crowd, the royal ride glided silently. Even some of the iggs carrying the litter chanted, much to An’s amazement, his eyes widened as he watched them. Participation without a command… He thought, Now, that’s the true Order! Perhaps I should mention this to the Council when we meet. Ninna could see it now, An was proud, but was it with Lil, with her, or with himself? Most probably the latter, she was not certain. Still, eliciting an emotion from An was worth a celebration in its own right. The thought of it made Ninna so elated, that she felt like taking off and taking flight. The moment was hers.

As the royal procession made its way down the causeway, the towers lining the street were getting lower. Now Ninna could not see neither the beginning nor the end of the road, as the glowing orange haze had swallowed it completely. Her hands were growing tired from holding up the cage, but she was determined to persevere. Sweeping the pain away from her senses, she smiled and chanted restlessly Hail, Lil! when a fresh wave of roar rolled over the royal litter. The sky above was full of swirling golden motes giving a magical feeling to this moment. Even An looked relaxed now, nodding in approval. Finally! Ninna thought happily, At last, we both can feel! This is what happiness is. This is it! She thought, trying to etch every detail of the moment in her memory.

The way fate has it, everything good is bound to end. As the royal procession approached the edge of the One City, the lofty towers of ens gave way to shacks and hovels of iggs, which piled together in a confounding disorder on both sides of the road. Red mud squelched beneath the feet of the porters, sucking on their toes loudly. Countless iggs packed both sides of the causeway, bunching in odd packs. Ninna could see their sullen faces, some covered with red mud, some pockmarked with blue spots, some with swollen half-shut eyes, others missing teeth or claws.

“You better return to your seat, Ninna” An’s voice sounded strained, he didn’t bother hiding his concern, “These ones do not partake of the Tree of Life. They may not share in the joy of life as much as we do. The Order knows, I try to lift their burden, but there are so many of them, and the Sacred Grove is too small for all Ones to share. Not all can be ens, Ninna.” he continued talking to himself, “Please sit.”

Ninna obeyed. For once she was glad to comply as the tension in her arms was unbearable by now, every muscle in her arms throbbing with pain. The mist was rapidly condensing into droplets. It almost felt like rain, except that the droplets hovered, milling in confusion rather than falling down to the soaked ground. Ninna heard a loud splash behind the litter, and then another one closer. As if someone was hurdling mud at them. She turned back to look. The royal guard was following them not far behind, twelve soldier ens brandishing bronze spears tipped with firestone. One of them was dragging something off the causeway, Ninna could not quite make out what it was.

Beyond the hovels of the iggs Ninna could see the moss patches with dark figures swarming around some large machine. Clearly, not all the iggs dropped their duties to watch the royal hatchling parading through the city… Here the moss patches stretched as far as the eyes could see, although the eyes here could not see very far because of the ubiquitous orange fog awash with the eternal glow.

“Best we turn back now”, An commanded the porters just in time, as out of nowhere a huge shadow emerged from the mist and rain blocking the way, an abandoned harvester. By sheer luck, An’s command came just in time to avoid collision as the porters struggling with inertia managed to slow down the litter turning it around.

Ninna thought she glimpsed movement, but the eternal glow here was somehow dimmer, making it difficult to see. This is strange, she thought. By now the orange condensation was thick on her and An, making their gowns stick to their wet bodies. Large auburn droplets covered Lil’s tiny head, his narrow black tongue darting at them periodically. Ninna saw the soldier ens running towards the harvester, shouting. Someone fell, someone was poked with a spear and dragged away. An didn’t turn his head to look, choosing to act unconcerned. “Chaos is the friend of iggs” she heard him mutter. “Go faster!” He barked a command at the porters perhaps too harshly. Ninna had never seen him lose his temper like this before. She did not need to be told that something was wrong as she could hear shouts and screams fading in the distance as the soldier ens were busy fighting at the harvester. That was when it struck her: they were alone among the iggs now, with only twelve porters to keep them company, and they were iggs as well. She clutched Lil’s cage hard, a fear crept up upon her like a wildcat on an unsuspecting prey. “Faster!” she screamed, but no use, the porter iggs were running as fast as the thick red mud allowed. One porter in the back had slipped and fell, knocking the other one off his feet, both were quickly swallowed by the orange fog. Ninna could only hear a few distressed grunts followed by eerie silence mixed with the rhythmic squelching of the running feet. Before she could realize what was going on another dark shadow emerged ahead. Another harvester? No, it was a giant long wagon fashioned for transporting moss, which someone set across the road, deliberately blocking their way. It was too late to break. The porters in front tried to steer the litter away, but it was no use, the inertia of their run was too great, and the best that they could do was to scuttle sideways as the litter impacted the transporter on its side. One of the carrying poles snapped and a huge splitter narrowly missed Ninna, another bounced off An’s calcified scales tearing his wet robe apart but failing to penetrate his body.

The sudden stop jerked both of them violently, Ninna’s fingers opened, the cage had slipped from her hand and came tumbling into the mud, Lil squeaking inside. “Lil!” cried Ninna, horrified.

Before An could stand up and free himself from the rubble that fell into the royal litter from the transporter, something slick and round came down onto his helmet with a hollow thud leaving a huge dent just below one of the horns. An roared and lurched from his seat, sending the debris flying in all directions. Ninna was wedged in the mud behind the crashed litter, crawling towards the cage with squeaking Lil inside. But where is he? The gelatinous fog swirled and licked everything, patching her eyes with droplets of auburn goo. She heard a squeak. “Lil!” she cried, trying to stand up.

“Stay down!” someone yelled at her, but she couldn’t tell who it was.

An’s roar filled the air. Ninna turned her head and saw small dark figures launching at the massive touring shape of the One in Command. Rats! They looked like rats to her. An’s body thrashed violently as he twisted and turned, sending them flying as he was beating off wave after wave. Yet they kept coming. Too many! She thought, forgetting about Lil for a split second, as she was enchanted by her husband’s fury. She could tell that he could not see his attackers and was reacting to them like one would to mosquitoes: when they bit he swung, catching them by the dozen, his tail a giant mace. His enormous size and thick scales were an undeniable advantage as Ninna saw scores of dark shadows lying motionlessly in pools of blue blood, her husband’s doing. Thank Order iggs are forbidden to have arms! She thought when the fear suddenly returned to her as she remembered Lil. “Lil!” she cried again standing up. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around she saw an old scrawny igg nin holding the cage. All covered in red mud, Lil was squeaking frantically, a small patch of skin on his back was raw and bleeding from the impact. The crone stretched her wiry hands handing the cage to Ninna before disappearing into the swirling fog. “Long life to you!” yelled Ninna into the fog, but nobody answered.

Suddenly the air above them became alive with searchlights and gusts of wind from flyers as reinforcements arrived. The iggs have scattered as ens descended from the flyers forming a perimeter around Ninna and An. Igg bodies were everywhere, drowning in red slush. So much for the celebration! thought Ninna. She sat down in the mud and laughed hysterically, clutching the cage. Nobody seemed to pay her any mind until Enra came running and pulled her to her feet. “Come with me, Your Hollowness”, he commanded, grasping her firmly by the arm and pulling her towards one of the flyers. She looked back, searching for An. “His Radiance will join us later”, he reassured her, smiling charmingly the way he always did. “He has the battle to command”, he added as he ushered her into the safety of the craft.

As they were lifting off, Ninna glanced down and saw a large searchlight spot with An’s towering figure at its center talking to a few soldier ens surrounding him, giving orders, no doubt. Ens came and went running throughout the site of the skirmish. The scene was growing smaller and dimmer as the flyer left for the royal palace. I am safe, she thought, An is safe, Lil is safe. She looked at the cage she was clutching. The youngling was still squeaking faintly and squirmed, clawing at the muddy rods. She did not want to let go of him. Ever. She knew she had to talk to An about Lil, but what were the chances that he’d listen? Still, she had to try.

Ninna did not remember how they got to the royal palace, but she found herself standing in the Apex of the Fifth Eye with Ninra by her side, stripping her torn gown away and wiping mud off her skin. Ninra’s face was pale, her expression worried. “I am glad you are unharmed, Your Hollowness” she said as she was cleaning her scales. “You need a proper bath, I will prepare it.”

“No! No bath now. Where is Lil?”

“He is with the Keeper”

“With the Keeper? So soon? It’s not time yet!” Ninna was about to protest, but Ninra reassured her.

“Then Keeper’s here, he will not go down to the Nursery until he has An’s leave”.

Ninna felt a wave or relief roll over her body and fainted, her limp figure sliding silently into the nest, a single forgotten white chip of a shell biting treacherously into her skin.

When Ninna regained consciousness she found herself in the presence of her husband. Much to her surprise, An looked more alive than he remembered him. He was different, even changed, his eyes glowing with excitement, his air pouches pulsating rapidly. For the lack of a better word, he looked… happy. An was dressed in a shiny black combat suit that clung to his scales like paint, a firestone-tipped dagger hung menacingly from his belt, sheathed.

The Keeper stood next to him, his look as insolent as ever, waiting.

“It’s time”, An said, “Bid your farewell to Lil before the Keeper takes him to the Nursery.”

Ninna’s heart sank. “An, Your Radiance!”, she tried to protest, “I beg we talk about this!”

But there was no use. “We talked about this before, Ninna, and many times we did.” An came closer and helped Ninna to her feet, “My answer is still the same…”

“The Order of Things demands it!” she finished the sentence for him, mocking him sharply straight to his face. “Chaos take your order! Is the Order more important to you than… “ she was searching for words, “than me? Or Lil? Your own flesh and blood!”

An raised his hand, his invisible power silenced her feeble pleas. “You saw the chaos by the harvester, Ninna! Didn’t you?” his voice was reprimanding her but only mildly, “You saw it with your own eyes! Do you want us to live like… like iggs? Is this what you want, Ninna?” He came up to her point blank and took her with both of his huge hands, but gently. He tilted his head down and looked into Ninna’s eyes almost tenderly, his voice soft: “The Order of Things is the only thing that keeps us away from them! You know it, Ninna. You know it. The moment we forget it, chaos will take over and you will beg for order, but by then it’ll be too late. Lil goes to the Nursery.”

“But…” She did not want to relent, but there was no use, her body sagged in his arms limply and he let her slide down into her nest.

“With any luck, we’ll have him back after the Coming of Age…” An paused.

He said we! Ninna did not miss it. This one word meant so much to her. Something’s changed. He said we! Deep down he cared, she knew this now. Stubborn as he was, he cared now, cared for his son and heir Lil. She knew it now, she knew! Lil will be his heir. He must be.

“… if he survives… “ An added automatically, without giving it much thought, old fool, why did he say it? But it was too late, Ninna was agitated once again, crying uncontrollably, the stress of the events piled up on her abruptly, like the abandoned harvester emerging from the fog.

For once, An felt ashamed for his lack of consideration and tried to reassure her, “I know he will, the Keeper here will make certain of it”, he gave the Keeper a heavy look.

The Keeper looked like he couldn’t care less. He’d seen countless farewells and was no stranger to nins’ tears and other fits of womanhood. His skin was thick, and he was an igg, besides.

“As Your Radiance commands”, was the Keeper’s reply as he approached to collect the cage. The youngling inside was clean, the scab on his shoulder patched.

“Wait!” Ninna quit sobbing and stood up. She approached the cage, squatted, and slipped a finger through the rods to run her claw over Lil’s head rubbing him between his eyes. “I will see you again, darling. Show them who you truly are, the future En Most High, the One in Command!” Lil murmured something indiscernible in return, circling her hand.

The Keeper cleared his throat, picked up the cage, and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor making his way towards the elevator without as much as saying another word. He knew his job and knew it well.

“Promise me”, Ninna spoke to An, “Promise me one thing!” she demanded clutching An’s hand and bringing it to her chest.

A flutter of confusion ran across An’s face, “Promise you what?”

“That you will discuss the matters of Inheritance during this cycle’s council”.

“Ninna!” An rolled his eyes, “Not this again! Enough, I said enough!” he stormed out of the room, his battle robe glistening deep violet in the dim illumination of the hall.

His ghastly exit left Ninna smiling. She knew that despite the harsh facade and fierce act, he actually might listen to her this time.