A falling sensation overtook her. Irene jolted upright, hyperventilating. The stirring of the Ancient One in her amplified her panic, its pulsating clinching vibrating through her veins. Her body shook. As she gathered her senses, the Wikev made out the stream-like patterns in the walls and floors. She was now sitting on a single, gray bed. An outline of a slithering being popped into her peripheral vision.
Instinctively, she extended her fangs to half of their length. Venom pooled under her tongue, ready to strike. Out of her throat emerged a series of clicks. Some of the deity's anger mixed with her fear of survival.
"I am not here to hurt you, dear," the being said in Icoburi, opening her sideways mouth filled with rows of teeth. Venom dripped off of Wikev's fangs out of fear. What kind of being were they? The being extended one of her leg-tendrils with a glass of water.
"You are dehydrated, drink."
Her mouth did feel dry, but how would they know that? Hesitantly, Irene took the glass from them. She brought it to her mouth and sniffed.
I do not sense any poisons. The goddess said with a cracked voice. Then again, I cannot sense much right now.
"Really now? I am a medic, not a killer. Drink before you die of paranoia," the being scoffed.
After licking the venom off from her teeth, she gulped down the liquid. They were right; she was parched. The healer smiled and refilled the water. The Wikev emptied again within a few seconds.
"Where am I?" Irene asked, unsure if she had remembered the proper words. It felt like ages since she had read or spoken the language. Their eyes stalks perked up.
"Oh good, I was unsure if you could understand me." They clapped their legs together. "You are at Zanurik, the Ascendant's palace for lack of better words." Irene licked her chapped lips. Ascendant, that word caused the goddess to coil in anger.
Our replacement.
Replacement?
The Ancient One gave no further context, tucking herself in a corner of Irene's mind and curling into a ball. She assumed if she let her anger out, it would result in hurting both of them. That was the most logical explanation she could think of at least. A sulking goddess didn't sound quite right. Frustrated with her lack of detail, the Wikev turned towards the strange, most likely Interstellar, being.
"Ascendant?"
"Ascendant, leader of the Celests."
Irene's eyes widened. What would a leader want with her? She scanned her memories of conversations she had about the species. The vast majority held anger and resentment towards them, all but one, Asa. The healer had met her fair share of Celests, having actually helped saved one of their hatchlings. And, on the whole, she trusted her more than the nonsense that oozed from Terrik's mouth.
But an overwhelming majority shared stories of how the so-called "chosen ones" had degraded the others in the universe. Things had been quiet for around three decades since the new Ascendant took the throne. Even so, that didn't prove their allegations incorrect. It most likely meant the new leader was better at hiding it, more covert.
"I'd like to speak with him. Her. They, whatever," she demanded as her body stiffened. She would find out why she was here and what they wanted with her. Beeping emanated from the being's orifice.
"We could use some more of that straightforwardness around here. I would be happy to assist but you will have to wait until after his meeting. If he's still in one piece," the being chortled. "And it would be best if you take it easy right now as it is."
Irene blinked, searching her thoughts for an explanation as to how she got into this mess.
The memory flooded back to her, the jabbing pain and the sudden tiredness. She gulped as the realization of what had happened dawned on her. Had the Ascendant hired that beady-eyed freak to kidnap her?
She vaguely remembered some sort of purple-black being approaching her, asking if she spoke Icoburi but nothing else about his appearance stood out. In fact, she didn't even remember seeing any eyes. Could the purple being the same as the being who had tried carrying her earlier?
Her eyes squinted. No, they appeared to be helpful, too nice for a Celest.
Any ideas? She asked the goddess though not really knowing what she was expecting. The deity unfurled slightly from her ball just enough to snarl at Irene.
I felt as bad as you looked.
I couldn't have looked that bad. The Wikev countered, hoping she was correct. She had only been on drugs twice, neither purposefully or ending well.
You drooled.
Irene winced. At least she was consistent, she figured. A breeze teased at her clothes, a simple tunic and loose-fitting pants, both a dark brown.
"I will come for you once they are done. Meanwhile, rest."
The Wikev nodded, unsure what to think. She slid down in the bed as the Interstellar exited the room. To do what, she didn't know. The emptiness left plenty of room for thoughts—thoughts of her leaving Asa, thoughts of her being shunned by Terrik and the rest of the tribe, thoughts of being alone for the rest of her days. And, in this room, that's exactly what she felt:
Terribly and utterly alone.
The pulsating, rainbow lights outside the window grew dimmer as each moment passed. She supposed they were what told day and night despite not knowing exactly what they were. Enigmatic, opaque, and captivating, they had entertained her for the past hour or more.
To be honest, Irene had no clue how time worked here. Were there hours, minutes, seconds? That and many follow up questions filled her brain while watching the light show. The medic, who she learned was named Talvec after a few check ins, appeared in the doorway once more.
"Vishnear is finished with his meeting if you would still like to talk with him," she announced.
"Vishnear?" Irene half asked and half commented, her mind still spiraling inside itself.
"The Ascendant."
How was she supposed to know that? The Wikev heaved sigh. Admittedly, she still felt terrible but she wanted to know what this Celest wanted with her more than anything. Without a word, she got up and followed the medic down the hall.
The walls towered above her, stretching into thin arcs, and the girth of the hallway could fit her entire tribe. She couldn't rightly call it a hallway except she knew the rooms were larger. The area opened into an even more spacious room donned with a long table, cushions, chandeliers, and, oddly, nothing else.
Clanging of dinnerware caught her attention. To her right stretched a the longest table she had seen. Multiple species were removing plates and cups from the area. All of the other species, a mix of Terran and Interstellar. Her eyes widened. None of the servants were Celests, not even his medic.
One being stood across the room near the door, most likely the Ascendant.
"I demand you release me!" Irene shouted the best Icoburi she could muster. Her finger pointed straight at him. They spun around, their face painted in bewilderment. It was silver-eyes from earlier. Both of his right hands unclenched his robes. He stared at her, pupils dilated.
"What?" the male asked. Perhaps her Icoburi wasn't as polished as she had hoped.
"I-I demand you release me!" the Wikev repeated, trying to slow down her words to catch any errors. The tacking of claws forced her eyes downwards. Her throat clenched. His feet consisted of three thick, front-facing talons and two back-facing. The sharpest one curved upwards and stayed lifted above the ground at all times. As he approached, she realized how tall the being was despite being slim. Her own head barely reached the middle of his chest.
Small indents could be seen in his mouth, revealing the ends of six canines, two on each top side and one on each bottom side. Contrasting their intimidating nature, a simple white robe with golden trim wrapped around them.
Three sets of partially opened wings greeted her with swirling hues of purples and blues. The back most pair had the most vibrant colors, dotted with white. His silver eyes, for a split second, mirrored her face, slack-jawed and frozen. He stopped a few meters in front of her. Her breath hitched.
"Release?" the Celest asked. While she could tell vaguely what he was saying from context, he wasn't articulating the word quite the same.
"Re-lease," Irene repeated, emphasizing the click in the middle. The Ascendant tilted his head. After a moment, he tried again.
"Re-lease." This time he attempted the click but it came out hoarse. The Wikev shook her head, repeating the word again, slower. Again, the Celest imitated her and, surprisingly, matched the inflection. Unwittingly, the female smiled and nodded. Wait, why was she cheering him on?
"Fascinating how the language evolved to match your native speech patterns," the Ascendant hummed. Anger washed over the Wikev.
"Are you saying I was pronouncing it wrong?" she hissed.
"No, no I am merely trying to-"
"First you pay to have me kidnapped then have me drugged and now are judging the way I talk!"
Irene's breaths shortened and head felt light. She shook her head to clear her mind but only managed to make her dizzy. She lost her balance as the world shifted around her. A smooth pair of arms caught her accompanied by a rumbling breath.
"Careful. How about we sit?" the Celest's suggested. A soft elegance reflected through his hold of her and his concern-laden eyes, diverging from every aspect of his body's natural construction.
Beautifully dangerous.
Disoriented, Irene relented. Sitting sounded better than standing right now. Unexpectedly, Vish-something assisted her to one of the silken floor cushions at the table then settled themselves onto the seat across from her.
He motioned for one of the servants, a bright yellow avian species. Instead of speaking, he signed to the bird. Surprisingly, she signed back. The Celest rubbed his chin. He held up two fingers. With a curt nod, the servant fluttered towards the kitchen.
"I do not believe I know your name."
The Wikev blinked. Why did he care about her name? Wasn't she supposed to be some kind of servant, a slave?
"Irene," she replied.
"Pleasure to meet you, Irene. You may call me Vishnear." Was this kindness a way to pump information out of her? Her mind reeled, trying to process this new information. A silence fell over them, causing the Celest to eye her. Fumbling, she muttered a reply:
"I know."
A surprised look momentarily lit up his face then settled back down.
"Ah, Talvec told you? I should have figured," Vish-whatever replied.
The avian servant returned with two ceramic cups of warm, green-tinted liquid. Steam wafted up towards her nose. A spicy aroma greeted her senses. The Wikev tried to piece together what the leader wanted from her. If this was an attempt to loosen her up to talk, it was incredibly straightforward. She watched his movements suspiciously, ignoring the drink.
The Celest cupped the ceramic mug on his palm, curving his four fingers around it so that they touched it just enough to hold it. His yellow-tinted claws weren't sharp like the talons on his feet. They had been sanded down to a rounded, blunt point.
"Now, as far as releasing you, I am not holding you captive. You are free to leave as you please though I would prefer if you waited until you have fully recovered."
The Ascendant dipped his finger into the liquid. Checking the temperature, Irene guessed as he then brought it to his lips, clearly ignorant of her predicament. She gritted her teeth.
"Leave? I'm a Terran I can't just fly out into space like you!" She spat, expecting either complete confusion or reflected anger. Yet he met her eyes with unexpected gentleness.
"I can provide a vessel for you. You simply need to ask, once you are feeling better that is," Vish paused, voice dripping with a heaviness, "I was hoping you could provide some insight as to why an Oipi would kidnap you but you seem just as confused as I am."
Kidnapped by an Oipi? Beady eyes flashed inside of her mind. Her mind replayed the attack, the strange language he spoke, and the prick she felt—a needle, of course. All at once, she pieced together the puzzle.
The deep purple-black hide, the swirling blue and purple hues that surrounded her when carried. Vishnear, a Celest, rescued her. With her obviously being indebted to him, all he wanted was for her to help answer why she had been kidnapped in the first place. Irene sat there, stunned.
"I honestly have no idea why," the Wikev spoke, her voice softer. Vish's eyes curved downwards, a sympathetic smile spread across his face.
"That is fine. I am sorry for what happened. I will gladly return you back to your home as soon as possible."
The dangerousness of her captor no longer held the same grip over her. Instead, she was met with baggy eyes and felt the weight of his slowed words. He sounded as alone as she felt. Irene turned away from his gaze, unsure why she was even commiserating with him.
"I don't have a home. Not anymore," Irene muttered.
The Ascendant's eyes fell on her like a stone. His lips formed a tight line before managing a cramped smile as though he were doing it for both of them.
"You are welcome to stay as long as you need. At least until you find somewhere. Though I would stay away from Erex, he will try to put you to work as he believes it is good for bonding. Nothing harmful, but I do not imagine you want to serve a Celest," Vishnear said, his eyes filled with a teasing glint.
She laughed as she imagined a Girx on the leader's staff, heading each chore with exuberant enthusiasm.
Girxs also lived on her planet but further south and we're known for their work-centric culture. They looked much like her species, the Wikevs. The main difference was they had bushy fur, manes, and a thick hide instead of scales.
How the leader was so aware of his servant's culture, though, she didn't know. Even stranger, she swore Vishnear's eyes light up as she laughed.
"Thank you," the female began, "Though I suppose I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
The Ascendant blinked slowly as a frown formed. Her stomach knotted. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Yet Vishnear looked through her when he answered:
"I do not think either of us does."