Book 1 — Chapter 50 - Part II

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Day: Hynyengo

Date: 37

Month: Nokaokarium 

Quarturn: 1618

Location: Tikkor Shoal,  The Strait of T’Eeszula

 

Tane looked up at the man as he yelled down from the tower. 

 

“I’ll get Asinara for you. She may be busy. Settle in. She’ll make her way to you eventually.” 

 

“Tell her we’re dropping anchor to fish over there,” Nikora called as he gestured towards the southeast. 

 

“She knows your favorite spot,” the man again responded as he smiled and waved gently before disappearing from sight. 

 

He watched as Nikora, without a word, moved back into the enclosed bridge of the boat, and navigated it slowly towards the spot that was apparently his favorite.

 

It gave him an opportunity to study his surroundings and take in the captivating juxtaposition that was before him. 

 

In nearly every directional degree lay the allure of nature in the form of the open ocean. A magnificent sight, with its water varying in colors from the deepest blue to the brightest of teals. Its temperament was one he could only describe as placid. The waves, so calm, they gently lapped against the hull in a hushed rhythmic tone — with the only break in the quiet coming from a random splash from a fish or another boat inducing a wake. The air, providing cooling breezes that seemed to skirt above the water, as to not disturb its peaceful currents. The sky, perfectly clear, casting only a brief shadow here and there from the multitude of birds that hovered above. 

 

But directly to his north, stood the contrast of which brought him to beguilement. 

 

Eight octagonal-shaped platforms stood high above the surface, supported by eight long legs that dove into the water below.

 

As they moved further away from the structures, the changing vantage point allowed him to see what resided on the platforms. Buildings of various sizes, the purposes of which he couldn’t guess. While some of the platforms remained fully open. 

 

He chuckled to himself and looked up towards Jacinth, who was sitting on the open second level above the bridge, as he asked. 

 

“Okay. What am I looking at, and where exactly are we?”

 

“See what happens when you spend so much of your time in the cabin?” Jacinth asked with a tease in his voice. “You missed the grand reveal as we came up on it.” 

 

Jacinth paused for a moment before he asked. 

 

“You’re really not well acquainted with the Strait of T’Eeszula, are you?”

 

“I’m really not,” he admitted with another chuckle. 

 

As Jacinth stood from his seat, he let out a breath of contentment and moved to descend the ladder to the deck, answering his questions with an upbeat pitch. 

 

“We are currently in the Strait of T’Eeszula, almost perfectly equidistant between Minu and L’Nokeaokee, on what is considered the largest shoal in the world: the Tikkor Shoal.” 

 

“And you’re here at one of the best times of year,” Nikora added as he emerged from the bridge, and moved towards the fishing rods that hung on the wall. “As you are standing at the epicenter of, what is considered, the world’s largest biomass. For what resides below these waters is the great ai’boco migration. Moving from north to south for the season, it’s perfectly aligned with the current shifts that churn up some of the best nutrients in the world that the ai’boco feed off of for their long migration. Billions of them swim through this area, attracting every manner of predator that feeds off them. Which inevitably attracts their predators, and so on. How does that strike you?” 

 

“Humbling,” he responded with sincerity as he elaborated. “The idea of so much life surrounding me … so much life placed here by the Universe, by Deo, wholly detached from my existence … yes, it’s humbling.” 

 

He watched as Nikora looked over at Jacinth and spoke with an earnest intonation. 

 

“Jacinth. You pick your friends well. Good on you both.” 

 

His eyes moved to Jacinth, who chuckled and nodded as he moved to stand next to him on the deck. As Jacinth stopped, he gestured over to the octagonal platforms and continued answering his questions. 

 

“Even without the mass migration, the shoal is always very lively with fish, seabirds, and a reef nearby. With so many fish, naturally the fishers came in droves. Someone saw an opportunity with those fishers and built these towers. They, the Scott Towers, have been here even well before the Bottleneck.” 

 

“Surely not these exact ones?” he asked with a chuckle of disbelief. 

 

“Oh no, no,” Jacinth assured him. “Though these towers are hundreds of quarturns old. Rebuilt in the place of the prior ones, using the same support holes and general design. Restored by the Watzeen, and continues to be maintained by them. It’s viewed as a waystation.” 

 

“That’s selling it a bit short,” Nikora chastised Jacinth with a laugh. “Come, now. Where’s your enthusiasm for these marvels? You should be boasting about how these towers are almost a fully self-sustaining micro-community. The only reason they can’t sustain fully is the caretakers leave their lights on for everyone and are exceedingly gracious. They harness their own energy. They gather their own water through rain collection and membrane-based practices. They grow most of their own food. They have landing pads for airships. Offer accommodation to those who need off their boats for a time. They even have their mini-shipyard at the far end platform for minor repairs. It’s not just a waystation; it’s a haven for travelers and recreationists.” 

 

“It’s sounding a bit like Leu’Anna Station,” he commented, as it was reminding him of a scaled-down version of his home. 

 

“That’s a fair comparison,” Jacinth responded with a nod and a smile. 

 

But before he could add anything further, a feminine voice called out above them in a singsong manner.

 

“Nikoorrraaa …” 

 

They all looked up as he spotted a Watzeen spiraling quickly down toward them — causing Jacinth and himself to clear the deck, as they stepped out of the way and pressed themselves against the boat’s railing. 

 

With a thud, the Watzeen woman landed on the deck and let out a cry of pain as she gasped out. 

 

“Stubbed my toe, stubbed my toe!” 

 

“Dear Deo, Asinara. Are you okay, you lummox?” Nikora asked with a chuckle as he placed his rod in a holder and approached the woman with a genuinely concerned expression. 

 

“Yeah. Yeah,” Asinara breathed out. “Caught a gust, pushed me down faster than I was expecting. Gotta breathe through this.” 

 

He glanced at Jacinth, who was grinning, and shook his head, though he too had a worried expression. 

 

But as his eyes returned to the Watzeen woman named Asinara — bent over at the waist, massaging the foot that was injured — he felt his head shift to the side by reflex; he, upon focusing on her, was truly struck by her beauty. 

 

Her appearance was typical of a Watzeen. Tall. Easily over 210 centimeters. Large with broad shoulders, but still strikingly thin, with her appearing to only have a 10-percent body fat composition. Wings that stood out wide and bright in their white appearance. Standard white flowing hair that was thick and long, draping down her back in a hair tail, with hints of artificial coloring stranded in it. And a face that was lovely in its shape and proportion, as he found most Watzeen to be attractive by default. 

 

But for all the more common characteristics, one point stood out that charmed him excessively. While all Watzeen had an iridescent complexion, there was always a single primary color undertone. And while Asinara’s looked to be yellow, it wasn’t. Instead, it appeared to be a pale gold that covered her body in tiny flecks, causing the sun to strike her skin and make it shimmer with brilliance. It was something he had never seen on a Watzeen, and it was marvelous. 

 

His awe and admiration was so tense in his mind, he almost didn’t hear Asinara’s voice as she spoke with a light chide. 

 

“Tane. I can feel you staring at me. It’s burning the back of my neck.” 

 

“Oh!” he exclaimed as he fumbled over his next words. “I didn’t mean to … stare. I was just … I’m sorry. I know this will sound like I’m being a creepy-ass, but I was stunned by your complexion. You’re stunning. I’m sorry about … wait. How did you know my name?”

 

The chuckles that surrounded him by the others, Asinara included, allowed him to feel a little less awkward as he released a chortle. But his full relief came as Asinara stood and spoke in a pleasant cadence. 

 

“Oh. Tyro sentiments. Everyone comments on how it looks all gold or whatever when they first meet me. It apparently surprises everyone. It’s what Humes and Lost Peoples would refer to as a suntan. Watzeen skin tans a bit differently. Nothing more exciting than that. As for how I know your name. Because I’m Watzeen, and it’s our business to know things.” 

 

He chuckled as he nodded to her now-obvious explanation. But he didn’t have time to respond; her voice pitched upward with excitement as she turned her attention to Jacinth and spoke with utter delight in her voice. 

 

“Jacinth, sweetness. You’re back so soon!” 

 

As she approached Jacinth, her hand grasped his upper arms firmly and brought him closer to her as she delivered a kiss to each cheek, with him returning the same. 

 

Upon finishing their greeting, she moved towards Nikora to greet him in kind, but kept her address towards Jacinth as she commented with a teasing tone. 

 

“You should have been here yesterday, Jacinth. Xiama Deniwo was here. Celebrating her public announcement to forfeit 90 percent of her total wealth to charities. Which, even with such, will still place her in the top fifty richest people in the world. The race to save the world is on, and you’re a great deal behind in that competition. You'd better pick up the pace, young man.”

 

He looked at Jacinth, who laughed and commented. 

 

“So I heard. I congratulate her. It’s a good choice. Not just to save the world, but as society has quickly developed a disdain for the ultrarich. Being in the top ten wealthiest is seen as vulgar. Gross. I’m not one to disagree with that assessment.” 

 

But as Jacinth shifted his stance, his body seemed to tense up as he spoke in a more serious tone. 

 

“And you’re right, I’m very far behind in the race to save the world. That’s why I’m here. To talk to you.” 

 

“And talk we will,” Asinara responded with a chirp in her voice. “But not now. We have all afternoon and evening, as I will be insisting you anchor here for the night. In the meantime, Nikora … I beg you … pull out the retractable shade. Bring up the chairs and table. And feed me, feed me, feed me!” 

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• • •

 

Tane looked at Nikora, who groaned with mild frustration. 

 

“I believe part of our agreement was for you to fish with us. Not sit there at the table and pick at food, watching us fish. Am I mistaken?” 

 

“You are not,” Jacinth responded in a low tone, as he stood from the table and chairs that had been placed on the deck per Ashinara’s request. 

 

He looked up at Jacinth, who gestured, with pleading eyes, for him to follow, as he made his way toward where Nikora and Asinara stood at the side rail of the boat. 

 

As he wiped his hands, preparing to join them, he couldn’t help but chuckle as Asinara admonished Nikora’s fishing as she spoke. 

 

“I don’t know how you expect to catch any stonies with that ai’boco lure. The waters are literally saturated with them.” 

 

“Ah! You’re not looking closely enough,” Nikora pointed out as he explained his methodology. “I made this ai’boco lure myself. It’s meant to mimic an injured one swimming, making it stand out. Hopefully implying an easy catch to the stonies. And in turn, an easy catch for me.” 

 

“That is impressive. But I’ll be more impressed when you’ve caught one.” 

 

He chuckled as he made his way next to Nikora, who quickly handed him a rod that had already been prepared for him. 

 

As he examined the rod, he tried to recall all the parts and their uses he had learned from his brother. But quickly, his attention was taken away and brought to Asinara, who asked in a pitch of bother. 

 

“Why the sulking expression, Jacinth? We’re here to have a good time. To indulge in the ultimate strategy game known as fishing, in one of the best places in the world to do so. At least try to find something smile-worthy in that.” 

 

“I’m really not here to fish,” Jacinth stated in a cold tone. “We’ve been here for hours now. I want to know the responses to my requests.” 

 

“Oh, Deo,” Asinara sighed with weariness before her voice turned to one of teasing. “Fine. Impatient heathen.” 

 

She casted out and pulled at her line as she cleared her throat, as if to speak with clarity. 

 

“I spoke to them concerning both of your requests. To your first one, about the artifact, they told me they would not discuss it. Though rumor has it from some of the higher-ups, they changed their mind on procuring it. Believing it’s, and I quote, ‘right where it is supposed to be.’” 

 

As he casted out, Asinara quickly spoke. 

 

“Tane, you’re going to want to adjust the drag on that reel as soon as you hit.” 

 

He looked at his reel and felt himself blink with confusion at all he was absorbing. Not only from what was said about the artifact; but he didn’t know what drag was, or how to adjust it. 

 

It was a confusion that lasted briefly, as Nikora reached over and adjusted a gear on the rod. A moment where he could only nod in thanks, as his attention was engaged with Asinara’s and Jacinth’s conversation. 

 

“As for your other request: they asked me to share a story with you,” Asinara relayed in a soft and slow tone, as it seemed she was concentrating more on her rod and reel than she was the conversation at hand. 

 

Suddenly with a jerk, she pulled back on her rod and wound her reel. But the quickness of the motions ceased immediately, as she let out a breath of frustration and spoke aloud. 

 

“That was a huge strike. I should have had that, but didn’t set the hook because — distracted. This conversation is screwing up my fishing.” 

 

He glanced over at Jacinth, whose expression had changed to one of concern. It was apparent his whole attention was on what Asinara was saying, and what she had to say; his hand wasn’t on the reel handle, but instead was gripping the handrail of the boat with force, causing his knuckles to pale with the intense grip he was asserting. 

 

His own attention returned to Asinara, who had reeled in her line, and with a sigh of resignation, set the hook within the safety holder at the guide base as she spoke. 

 

“I’ll provide you with my undivided attention for the moment. But when we’re done, my focus. Our focus. Returns to fishing.” 

 

As she slid the butt of her rod into the rod holder, she turned and lifted her seat up and onto the boat’s railings. With a smooth motion that was almost graceful, she crossed her leg over her knee and let out a vocal breath of contentment. 

 

“Let’s go ahead and put that away for the moment,” Asinara said. She gently reached out for Jacinth’s rod, retrieved it from him with no protest, and reeled in his lure as she continued. “Your face is more pinched than a barb. A little fishing humor there.” 

 

He smiled and let out a soft noise, a chortle, as a manner of courtesy, to Asinara’s attempt to lighten the mood, though he didn’t understand the joke. As he began to slowly reel his line in; he decided in that moment that he wanted to be able to surreptitiously focus on what was going to be said. He looked down at the water and noticed his lure was just under the surface — and most likely would not be a temptation to the fish. 

 

His attention turned briefly, as Nikora cast out again, causing the metal in his reel to click and whir as line unwound. It was a moment that prompted him to grin; from what little he had known about Nikora, it seemed wholly on brand for him not to join in the collective pause — as every second on the water was precious. 

 

“Now,” Asinara announced in a neutral pitch, causing his attention to return to her, as she had placed Jacinth’s rod into a rod holder, allowing Jacinth’s hands to both grip the banister — though this time, it seemed with less pressure, as the tone of his skin was consistent. 

 

“It was requested of me to relay to you a story that we Watzeen pass down in full confidence that it is recollected faithfully,” Asinara began as her eyes lifted to the sky, to seemingly gaze at the clouds as they floated by. “Humes are interesting little bits of frangible nonsense. I say that with affection, not with bigoted hate, as I adore Humes. I really do. Why, I unioned with one. I cherish their brand of love, emotions, and life. However. And yes, there is always a however.”

 

Asinara brought into herself a deep breath that made her shoulders rise and fall with emphasis. An action that was followed by a vocal sigh as she continued her thoughts. 

 

“As you’re aware, we Watzeen possess a bit more knowledge of the lost histories than everyone else. I know, to all other peoples, we hoard it for what appears to be no good reason. But I can assure you, there are excellent reasons. That being said, Jeahne. Or the planet now known as Jeahne we currently inhabit, has always been a diverse one. Naturally, with Attatas and Corachals in the shared-solar-system-esque neighborhood, it was easy to see the planetary jumps that were made. Watzeen even participated in the migrations. Then, with some of the other peoples of the world, it’s speculated their origins are not unlike the Okens. Being in the celestial neighborhood and finding our shared solar system so obliging to the wayfaring, they settled alongside us. All these peoples: strong with some amazing traits that sometimes even a Watzeen would covet. All these peoples, advanced enough to move on their own accord. Then …”.

 

He felt a light smile come to him as Asinara paused to raise the pitch of her voice as she continued.

 

“And I want to stress this, with no dissensus by any of the peoples here …”

 

She paused again as her voice returned to one of calm as she finished her first point.

 

“Then came the Couriers with the Humes. Brought, as a sort of refugee, to apparently save them from themselves. Or from the other, one could interpret. It’s really all so fascinating, the lore. But I’ll refrain from digressing too far. Nevertheless, when the Couriers first brought Humes here, apparently they were, to say it lightly, taken aback when seeing us Watzeen. It was a moment of collective bewilderment among all the peoples — Couriers included, as it seemed a little late to be stunned by what were, to them, alien peoples. Given they had already encountered and traveled with the Couriers, why would our presence faze them?” 

 

Asinara paused as she chuckled to herself; she seemed to enjoy the peculiarity that Humes had exhibited. But as she let out a vocal breath of contentment, she continued. 

 

“Of course, their astonishment was investigated, and it turned out that we Watzeen resembled portrayals of beings they believed to be of a higher power. Ones closest to their Deo. Or at least, most of Deos, as there were many variations. But indeed, across many different Hume cultures, these sky-spirit beings existed, with prominent depictions of winged entities that were seen as divine messengers, spiritual guides, and most important for this story, guardians and protectors. They called them … I don’t know what they called them in their native tongues … but in Watzeen, we translated it as F’Jueeshue. The Humes were amazed by us, as they thought we were the F’Jueeshue of their sacred books. And we …” 

 

As Asinara trailed off briefly, his attention was taken; he heard a latch click and metal rub against metal as he turned around him, and noticed that Nikora had unlatched a wall seat bench and set it down. Nikora moved forward and took the rod from him with a smile — gesturing for him to sit, as it had become apparent he wasn’t fishing at the moment. 

 

He returned the smile, offering one of silent appreciation as he moved toward the seat, taking a moment to tug at Jacinth’s shirt, and alerting him as well to the comfort being offered. 

 

He sat and watched as Jacinth — with slow, almost sluggish movements — joined him at the bench and sat next to him with a small vocal breath of concern. 

 

Upon adjusting themselves, both their attentions returned to Asinara, who, with a penitent expression, continued. 

 

“We Watzeen were honest. We told the Humes that we weren’t the entities they hoped we were. That we were people, just like them. However, to our fault, we did allow … to let the attention, I dare say … get to our heads. It’s not that we believed ourselves to be these beings they venerated. But our … the physical and intellectual differences did play to our vanity. Overall, we seemed to insert ourselves into the leadership role that was projected upon us. We apparently wanted to be these F’Jueeshue to them. Not out of control or anything mischievous, I can tell. But as a way … actually … I can’t say why we did so with certainty. As I alluded, there may have been a pridefulness that directed our actions. A pretension that only further developed as we questioned why the Couriers chose our tiny corner of the universe in which to rehome the Humes.” 

 

Asinara let out a deep breath of vocal frustration, as she seemed to be personally annoyed by what she would reveal next. 

 

“But, we Watzeen are not divine. We make our own mistakes. And as you know, with pridefulness can come disdain. A recognition that I will give Watzeen credit for. When that ugliness began to rear its head, we had enough sense about us to reflect on what was driving such, and we reevaluated our bond with Humes. Though, where we lack credit is, we took it to logical extremes. Deciding to live with Humes as we did with the rest of the peoples of this world. At arms’ length, with respect, but discontinuing our special relationship with them. Then, not long after, the Bottleneck happened.” 

 

He let out a breath of dolefulness of his own. Hearing what was being said was, granted, part of his shared history with the rest of the peoples of the world. But the sadness was more acute, as the words being said spoke to part of his ancestry. To his core. It was a grief he tried to shake from his mind, as he wanted to return his full attention to Asinara, who proceeded.

 

“When the dust settled, Watzeen were the first ones back on our feet, despite our own heavy losses. But as we looked out upon the world. We came to a consensus that we had failed. We failed the Humes. We failed the Couriers. We failed all the peoples that called this world home. We didn’t provide the Humes with the proper foundation for navigating the world. And while yes, one could say they were wholly capable, they — and I’m sorry to say this — weren’t. They weren’t on the same level as the rest of the peoples of this world. Humes were more fragile. Innocent. They … they were brought here. That alone illustrated the knowledge gap. Yet moreso, they didn’t have the physical advantages such as we Watzeen have. They haven’t the abilities of Attatas. The Corachals. Geneans. The famed, we speak not their name, that were all wiped out during the Bottleneck. The Heshus that may or may not still exist. Even their closest contemporary, the Oken, have abilities beyond theirs. Because of this, Humes — and by extension Lost Peoples  — suffered the most during the Bottleneck. We saw. We reflected. And we came to the conclusion that while we won’t exercise outright control, it was still up to us to use our advantages to guide, guard, and protect. We took an oath. An oath that continues to this day amongst our people; part of which expresses that we will never allow those failures on our part to ever happen again.” 

 

His head turned towards Jacinth, who took in a hopeful breath and asked with a soft expectation. 

 

“So … the answer was yes from them?”

 

He quickly turned his eyes to look at Asinara, who had brought her attention to Jacinth, smiling with a comforting expression, as she shook her head and answered.  

 

“No. It wasn’t a yes from them. However, as I pointed out earlier, there’s always a ‘however.’ The answer also wasn’t a no.”

 

“They do know this is not a game, right?” Jacinth spoke with a deeply frustrated voice that was further illustrated as he smacked his hands to his thighs as his pitch rose. “I … we don’t have time for that nonsense! People with a sense of morals cannot live like this much longer!” 

 

“Jacinth, calm,” Nikora urged with a comforting tone over his shoulder, not taking much attention away from his fishing. “I know you’re deeply stressed and aggrieved by all that is happening, but you either didn’t fully listen, or didn’t give yourself enough time to process what was said. Clear your mind of preconceived fears, and let her clarify what you missed and what the answer really was. And Asinara, extend to him some grace, as he’s faltering in his equanimity. Give him a moment to bring himself back.” 

 

His attention returned to Asinara, who smiled brightly and nodded while she commented. 

 

“I’m prepared. I’m unioned with a Hume and am familiar with a lot of their quirks.” 

 

He looked at Jacinth, whose hands were knotted into fists as they rested on his thighs. His head, hanging low, as if most of his energy had been drained from him in one quick motion. It was a body language that emphasised the mental and emotional pain Jacinth was in. And one that stirred in him anxiety for his friend. It was a sight that pushed forward his hand to Jacinth’s shoulder to grip and hold; he wanted to bring him some form of solace, but knew he could offer nothing verbally to ease him. He squeezed briefly, returning his attention to Asinara as she explained. 

 

“Jacinth. Do you think we don’t know what’s going on? We know how Cartmel had those people in Udo murdered. We know of all her plots. Her scourges. The murders at her own hands. Our own anger and mourning is irremovable. Further, do you think we don’t interject? Do you know how many times we had to bring down the ultimatum to stave off the reintroduction of projectile weapons over the hundreds of quarturns? All this done as we’re determined to make certain any belligerence is carried out eye-to-eye — where you’re forced to witness your deeds up close and, in hopes of making it all the less appealing. But as Nikora pointed out, you missed a significant point I made concerning our approach. And that is we are not the people-at-large’s caretakers. We are trying to refrain from being overt. To allow you, and the other peoples of this world, their own agency to learn from, and grow, and adapt. Because much of what is coming has to be done by the collective ‘you,’ who are going to have to get your hands soiled, too.”

 

“Soiled in what context?” Jacinth asked in a whisper. 

 

“Violence,” Asinara spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. Though her pitch returned to its softness as she continued. “You don’t have to enjoy violence. In fact, you shouldn’t enjoy it. But as things will play out, you need to become comfortable with it. As a matter of survival. Again, this falls on the collective ‘you.’” 

 

He glanced at Jacinth, who — while his head did not rise from looking at his hands — released a vocal breath of exasperation, and his voice rose, illustrating his current feelings. 

 

“So you’re testing us?”

 

His attention turned back to Asinara, who let out a breath of her own vexation. Though she didn’t express it, as her voice turned coy as she asked. 

 

“What? Are you afraid you won’t pass? Because that’s a good thing. A bit of fear is healthy. It keeps you from confusing confidence with arrogance.” 

 

It was a jest that went without lifting the mood; Jacinth again breathed out with audible displeasure as he spoke in a jarring voice. 

 

“The way I view it, the morality of an action isn’t based on who committed said action. People shouldn’t have to bring themselves to that level!”

 

“Jacinth,” Asinara spoke in a firm tone that made it clear she was going to present something harshly. “Is there not a difference between killing for protection and killing for murder? What about when your father was taken from you? Had you been older with a different discernment, what would you have labeled yourself that day?”

 

He felt his hand squeeze again gently as his eyes widened with the question. One he knew would strike at Jacinth’s core. Yet, it wasn’t one he felt was exactly unwarranted, as she was proposing a valid argument. Not only because he personally subscribed to the Hume proverb that intent was nine-tenths of the law. But too, he understood what Asinara was trying to present. It wasn’t just about the people’s autonomy; it was, subtextually, about the people’s responsibility.

 

Though, his thoughts didn’t linger; he felt the light bounce under his hand, which indicated Jacinth had been brought to silent tears. It was a moment that made his breath vocally catch, as he had never seen Jacinth cry. It was an action that took him by such surprise; he fumbled as he adjusted himself in his seat; he didn’t know how to respond. 

 

Yet a response from him was not required, as — in what seemed to be an instant — Asinara was over to them, kneeling before Jacinth, and taking his face into her hands as she directed him to look at her. She offered a comforting smile as she spoke in a soothing voice. 

 

“Dearest Jacinth. You really are a credit to your Hume heritage. An example of why the Couriers assorted the Humes based on their goodness of mind and heart. Why they left those who were so dogmatist, they had become wholly disinvested from their souls and their relationship with Deo. You simply are the exemplification of what the Couriers wanted to save. What they wanted to preserve. A mind of acumen that knows true leadership is achieved through serving, helping, and protecting. A heart that strives to secure the happiness of others. To make certain none suffer or hurt. A bastion of compassion, if you will. A conscience that desires to see equality and justice for all peoples. And a soul that shines with affinity, of harmony. You are goodness, personified. And you’re perfectly right. People with morals cannot live like this much longer.” 

 

As she paused and used her thumbs to wipe the tears from Jacinth’s face, her expression and voice took a more serious cadence as she furthered her thoughts. 

“Knowing this of you, I could never require of you personally to make those choices. For that reason, I urge you to surround yourself with those who could. Those, some of us like to call, the ‘good and gritty.’ People who have a being just as exceptional as yours. But can exercise bold actions. Too, make sure, for your sake, they’re ones that can forgive your limitations. Because in most of this, it’s in your hands. Still, I do want to make something very clear. You’re not alone in this. As I said, Watzeen took an oath as defenders of what is truth and what is right. But remember the following; you know how my people work. You will hear interference to the contrary. It’s all — and excuse the expression — part of the game. Yes, you pointed out, this isn’t a game. Notwithstanding, it is a strategy. And the strategy is essential to making sure that when the time comes … when the capabilities are beyond your reach … we will fulfill our oaths, we will intervene, and we will not fail you.”

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