Page 34 of Scorching the Alien Empire
“If Aenarael is my God, then where was she when you nearly froze me to death? Where was she when Kazumi died?” My voice rises, bitter and sharp. “It was only Arawnoth who came, only his flames that kept me sane.”
The words spill from me in a heated rush, raw and unfiltered.
“Curious that you so readily identify Aenarael as the progenitor of your gifts,” Ignixis titters softly, his tone laced with mischief. His eyes remain closed, but I curse myself inwardly for exposing hints from the Mortakin-Tok.
“As to your questions...” He pauses, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath, as though savoring the tension in the air. “I cannot say. Only Arawnoth’s will is known to me. Even through my deepest Mura-Tok’s I glimpse only fragments of his divine presence.”
His reply does nothing to soothe my anger; it only sharpens the icy knife of disappointment twisting in my chest.
“Then what fucking good is she—”
“You mustn’t!” Ignixis hisses, lunging forward like a striking serpent. His hand clamps over mine with startling force. “Never forsake the gods. They observe you, even now, foolish child.”
Before I can react, he reaches into the folds of his robes, retrieving clumps of black ash. Pressing the coarse powder to my forehead, he mutters fervent words under his breath. “May Arawnoth’s flames cleanse you of your petulance.”
My fingers absently brush the coarse marking that somehow feels warm to the touch as Ignixis eases back into his meditative pose.
“Aenarael’s gift resides within you,” he says, his voice calmer now but no less insistent. “Do not provoke her wrath. A loving parent must scold an ungrateful child for their betterment.”
I’d be more familiar with the concept if Mother hadn’t abandoned me at every opportunity!
“My advice to you, blessed daughter,” Ignixis begins, and I brace myself with a deep breath. “Seek the learned elders of the Virennix clan. It is they who favor the Goddess Aenarael. Through them, you may come to understand her teachings. And perhaps, in time, she will bestow upon you the same insights Arawnoth grants me.”
“No,” the word bursts from me, instant and visceral. I shake my head with disdain. “I might have Aenarael’s gifts, but she is not my God. Arawnoth is!”
I trace my fingers over the runic brand scorched into my flesh, feeling the searing warmth of it, a constant reminder of the admiration that burns in my heart for him.
“He gave me this, he saved my life, he banished the darkness, he sent me Dracoth.” My voice rises with every declaration, fierce and unwavering. “I won’t take no for an answer.Youwill teach me his sacred words!”
Ignixis’ eyes snap open, sparkling with emerald amusement. “My, my. You just won’t take no for an answer. This must be theboy’sobstinateinfluence, tempering your anemic human blood. However, the universe doesn’t move for desire alone—what you ask is simply not possible.”
He sighs dramatically, shaking his bald, rune-etched head with theatrical weariness. “You see, no female—especially noalienfemale—has ever been fully initiated. The notion is absurd. It would be akin to teaching the runes to a wild borack!”
He cackles, his lips curling into a smug smirk as his eyes lock onto mine, probing, hunting for a reaction.
“Please! Spare me your bigotry,” I snort, waving a dismissive hand, refusing to let his stupid tests get under my skin. “Arawnoth thought I was capable. And besides, didn’t you once say, ‘The truth is the truth. The words are the words?’”
Ignixis barks a sharp laugh. “Well remembered. Still, I lack the time to teach you,” he says, now his turn to wave a dismissive hand at me.
I let out an exaggerated sigh, stroking Todd’s rubbery, segmented body in frustration. Poor little chug bug. I’m probably rubbing the color right out of him.
“You’re being ridiculous. How about rather than doing this...” I wave my hand vaguely in his direction, struggling to recall the name of his weird goth meditation ritual. “...Moody-Tock thing, you could just teach me instead.”
“Mura-Tok, you deaf, willful child,” Ignixis chides, clicking his tongue. My cheeks flush slightly.
“Right. Mura-Tok,” I mutter, glaring at the floor.
“You mistake my meaning,” he says, his gaze drifting toward the swirling green smoke and flickering brazier flames. “Precious few days remain.”
“That’s plenty of time!” I jump in excitedly, sensing my imminent victory. Clutching his gnarled, creepy hand in mine, I lean forward, trying to close the deal.
“Is it?” Ignixis harrumphs, jerking his hand back as if afraid I might infect him with cooties. “Tell me, are you in any way familiar with the runes of my people?”
He’s got me there.
“Um... not exactly,” I admit, my voice faltering as I squint my eyes, trying to separate the spiral and squirmy markings scorched onto his egghead. But they’re so minuscule and tightly packed they blur together in the dim firelight.
I point hesitantly at one on the end of his nose. “What’s the squiggly one mean?”
