Chapter 33: THE BOUNTY HUNTERS [PART FOURTEEN]

A neutral expression from the woman, the blank experience of her very nature refined in her answer. “There is a fundamental separation of divinity and mortality in our existence. The Empress is perhaps the only exception. She acts as a divinely chosen individual, an aspect of Armin to guide our culture and our civilization.”

“That is an incomplete statement.” The boy stops the woman.

“Explain.” Manara requests warmly.

“The augmentation ley-lines exist only in the Collective.” Samuel informs as he tides through ancient knowledge. “The culture within therefore revers them as divine gifts, and those who are compatible with such augmentation as fragments of the divine themselves. The society of the Armin Collective is inherently representative of an intersection between divinity and mortality. The application of divine gifts upon the mortal body creates demi-gods that walk this world.”

“You simplify yet complicate the riula augmentus.” Manara notes with an approaching frown. “Mages are no more powerful than any other mortal upon this world. To see ourselves as different from the rest of society is…”

The woman stops herself at the words, cultural conditioning contaminated by the words of the boy. An argument rarely found within the sterile halls and steel streets of the Collective, an education faltering against an intelligence seemingly beyond the simple decade and a half of the boy in front of her.

She continues after reorienting her mind. “It is to see ourselves elevated by Armin.”

“You are elevated, Auditor Manara.” Samuel notes. “Your existence as an Auditor is to hunt losethi. You are a hunter of the divine, of Armin’s own fragments.”

They sit in silence for a time, mediation arriving among centered minds as they listen to the slow moan of the wind amongst canyons. Five suns above them darkened yet still warm from a day’s anguish, their thin light barely enough to illuminate the world beneath them.

A chemical fire burning between the two factions sheds heat as contained energy is carefully released by processes unknown, the edge of night brushed back by ancient technology and faith.

A wordless exchange is glanced between the boy and the woman, a connection formed on the basis of a new Collective. A covenant of separation, of a world of unwavering faith, and another of an abandoned home. Concessions of self and society derived down to the singular relationship between two souls, the next words coming cold in the execution of a familial tie newly forged.

“Have you sought treatment for your condition?”

Samuel contains a neutral expression at the words, an unwavering response spoken. “Has Samantha informed you about such an aspect of my form?”

“I am only aware that you carry an arcane item to slow its progression.” Manara misunderstands. “Is such an assertion true?”

A singular directed question, subtle augmentation flaring as the woman before the boy unconsciously prepares to read a response. To lie against the power of fallen divinity, Samuel keeps a completely dead expression as he levels his words with mechanical precision. “The item in question is of similar nature to that of the weapon.”

Motioning down towards the idle mechanism cradled within the hands of the sibling, the pair of souls once again stop to observe the item.

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A length as tall as the girl herself, the alien weapon barely catches the thin streaming firelight from the chemical fire. Its design was of a corrupted forging of eons past; a huge square barrel of ancient alloy intermixed with the mechanisms of a master’s gunsmithing. Against the night sky the thing itself seemed to call forth memories of a dead pantheon, a great power unleashed for a lost purpose and application.

Eyes flare as the Auditor attempts to scan the mechanism again, arcane energy faltering as nothing is returned to the mind.

“That mechanism is at minimum a master-work weapon.” Manara carefully comments. “How were you able to come into possession of such a device?”

“It was…” Samuel pauses, selected words realized in context to hold meanings beyond that of intended implication. A finality to his answer, an omitted lie hidden behind truth. “It was fate.”

“Fate.” The woman turns the word within her mind. “And you believe in such an ideal?”

“I cannot say.” The boy admits. “Our ownership of these devices leads me to differing conclusions: one that of a destiny laid before us by the divine, or one that we have forged ourselves with the assistance of these mechanisms. None have direct answers regarding the subject of fate.”

“You are fated to be together by the Five.” Manara assures the boy and his sleeping sister. “You are tied in blood and soul; to wander this world together. It is a blessing.”

“Explain.”

“Many, even in the Collective, will always question the fate set before them by the gods. But to have a fate intertwined with your very soul, one to do with such surety, is to exist without these questions.”

“Fate is an evil thing.” The boy stops the woman. “Perhaps this is the reason why the losethi exist; the desire to be free from the fates the gods have set before them is only human in nature. But, to align with your analysis Auditor Manara, there is a specific certainty to us. We are connected by birth, we are our own Collective.”

“As it is fated by the gods and Armin herself.” Manara smiles as she takes a breath of cold air.

On his lap Samantha turns slightly, muttering incomprehensible language as she adjusts position.

“You should rest.” The Auditor blinks as she stares into the beyond of a black night. “There is an eventful day planned.”

“Yes.” The boy answers coldly. “There shall be many events tomorrow.”