Page 9 of The Sovereign: Part One
“The same girl who just happens to be from one of the founding families of Hyperion Proper?”Bellam arched an eyebrow, a teasing lilt to her voice.“The Vasthane name carries weight.They were there when Hyperion was carved out of the old world.”
She wasn’t wrong.The Vasthanes were a lineage woven into the city-state’s foundation, their influence enduring for over two centuries.The VANGUARD was once an acronym formed from the names of the elite class that defined Hyperion’s highest tier of Sovereign.It was families like the Vasthanes who had shaped it, along with the Anxus, Nianzus, Ghoshes, Urbanes, Ashroths, Ravelles, and the Dunwells.Wealthy, powerful, and deeply embedded in the technological and political evolution of the city, Lourdes’s lineal predecessors had been among those who pushed Hyperion Proper into independence.Now, it was just a name, armored by privilege, upheld by policy.“There are rumors,” Bellam continued, “that the Vanguard leveraged the Birth Crisis to solidify Hyperion Proper as its own entity.That they used the fear and desperation everyone felt to push for a society where Sovereign-Supplicant relationships were the sole acceptable course, and in turn, converted that mandate into an empire of profit.”
“Just rumors,” I emphasized, though I had heard them myself.Before the Birth Crisis, families like the Vasthanes had been heads of tech behemoths, their companies at the forefront of AI advancement.When natural conception rates plummeted and birth defects rose, the global population panicked.Hyperion and the Vanguard proposed an answer.
Innovation requires change, yet not everyone agreed with Hyperion’s approach, even though the city and its technology were now the only means of survival.For those who rejected artificial intervention, a settlement formed just beyond the city’s limits, a sanctuary for those who wished to live outside the structured perfection of Hyperion Proper.The Vale became a refuge for the Auren, while Hyperion became the beacon of stability for Sovereign, those who embraced a controlled, utopian society.“And probably not appropriate conversation over Celestines’ famous glazed oysters and Bloom Tea.”
“It’s fascinating,” Bellam mused, her gaze drifting to the opulence surrounding us.“It doesn’t really matter why.The Vanguard were the architects of all this.And yet, there are Sovereign who still refuse to integrate and actually choose to leave for The Vale, to bend over the dirt for their supper, weather beating down on them, without so much as the mercy of climate control.It just… defies reason.”
Her eyes drifted beyond the shimmering translucent ceiling to the towering spires of Hyperion Proper, their sleek surfaces reflecting the sunlight in an almost ethereal dance.Below, the Supplicants moved gracefully among the Sovereign, their flawless faces a reminder of the harmony between human and machine.Their lithe forms were too perfect to be human, the only hint of their synthetic nature, revealing them as something other—neither wholly flesh nor wholly construct.It was a beautiful symmetry, but one that Aurens found unsettling, maybe even profane.
Bellam let out a delicate laugh, but there was something wistful in it.“This place, this society, where everything is uncomplicated.A world where needs are met before they even arise, and yet… some would rather cling to the past.To their messy, flawed, ‘real’ lives.”She turned to me, her eyes bright with the wonder of it all.“Can you imagine knowing a place like this exists, and not just rejecting it, but hating it?”
“Hate is a strong word.”
I looked past the windows to the city below, taking in the smooth, gleaming architecture, the pristine streets, the unending flow of comfort that buzzed beneath the surface.It was hard not to be entranced by it, the promise of a life free from struggle.But Bellam was right.There was something rebellious about holding on to the uncertainty of the old world, about resisting the serenity that Hyperion Proper offered with little condition.Our every need was met; life was comfortable, predictable.Living in The Vale required grit, defiance, and everything else Hyperion Proper avoided.
“And it’s not about rejecting it,” I said slowly.“It’s about… remembering.The Auren aren’t ready to forget what came before.It’s not hate.It’s preference.And I don’t blame them.”
“Your ex would disagree,” she said.
The mention of Joss sent a flicker of discomfort through me, but I pushed it aside.That conversation could wait.For now, I focused on Lourdes, who had just entered the vestibule, her stride even more graceful and assured than I remembered.
Lourdes Vasthane was radiant, her platinum tresses curled under in a style reminiscent of the 1940s, each strand perfectly framing her face.Her icy blue eyes glanced toward Bellam, the cool color of her irises striking against the vibrant emerald of her tailored suit, undoubtedly chosen by her personal visage consultant, Hecta, to enhance the natural shimmer of her flawless skin.She wore only mascara to define her long lashes and a bold red lip, adding an air of graceful sophistication.She had always carried undeterred self-possession, the kind that came from knowing her place in the world was secure.
She saw me and broke into a warm smile.“Isara!”she said, drawing me in for a breath-close kiss to my cheek.“I find you exactly where I’d hoped.How very like you.”
“Lourdes, this is Bellam,” I said, stepping back.“We work together in the Dominion Building.”
“Bellam Erel,” Lourdes greeted, extending a hand.“Of course you are.Your reputation precedes you.”
“My… reputation?”Bellam repeated.
“Sharp, ambitious, and with a knack for seeing possibilities where others see roadblocks.That’s a rare talent.But more importantly, Isara always speaks of how fiercely loyal you are.Having a friend who stands unwaveringly by your side is invaluable.”
Bellam seemed a bit taken aback by Lourdes’s words.“That’s… extremely gracious of you, Lourdes, thank you.I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you as well, but now that I’ve met you, it all seems woefully understated.”
Lourdes winked.“Believe only what Isara has told you, and nothing of the rumors.”
“What rumors?”I teased.
Lourdes’s laugh chimed throughout the entrance, gaining the attention of themaître d’.
“Primara Vasthane!My sincere apologies!”a man said, sweeping Lourdes’s hand into his as he bowed.
“Bym!”she said with a smile.
Bym, Celestines’ maître d’, was a stately Sovereign with salt-and-pepper hair, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that fit as if it had been sculpted to his frame.He exuded natural charm, though his keen, assessing eyes suggested he missed little that happened within his domain.
Every department or establishment included at least one Sovereign in a position of visible authority, even when most of the labor was carried out by Hiven or exponents.But Bym’s posture was rigid, his smile a shade just below strained.
“I was nearly apoplectic when I saw you waiting,” he said, kissing the top of her hand with veneration.
Bellam leaned toward me.“She’s been here ten seconds,” she muttered.
Bym released Lourdes’s hand a beat too late, his expression pinching briefly.“We’ve recently refreshed staffing protocols.I’ll personally ensure transitions are reviewed.It won’t happen again.”
There had been no mistake, only the distinctive pressure of proximity to someone whose approval held more power than most Sovereign official titles.Lourdes Vasthane wasn’t simply Vanguard.She was the brand of Sovereign whose faintest disappointment could unravel careers, reroute funding, even elevate or tarnish a family name for a generation.And Bym, for all his charm and polished composure, knew it.
