“I am betrayed.” The prophetic words echoed through time. Stretched out on the frigid stone floor, Ta La Mar watched as the essence of her life seeped from a profound chest wound, forming a chilling red lake around her.
In search of solace, she turned her head, fixing her gaze on a familiar portrait hanging on the wall – her last source of comfort. Violet eyes traced the delicate brushstrokes that captured the graceful features of Lady Loro Cal Niay on ancient silk. Painted at the tender age of thirteen, Niay's eyes, the same color as her own, held a wisdom that surpassed her years. She could feel blood pooling around her, her grasping azure fingers leaving rust-colored smears along the painted silk as she struggled to cling to consciousness. The sticky warmth soaking through her tunic leached away what little warmth the soft thin fabric had offered.
The irony of their lives, entwined by profound love and the isolating embrace of loss, now reached its climax in parallel, solitary deaths. It struck Ta like a cynical joke without a punchline. Sorrow clouded her mind as lifeblood ebbed away, yet she fought to maintain awareness, her thoughts elusive as wisps of smoke slipping through numb fingers.
The image of two young women, separated by over two millennia, resonated bitterly. A lifetime spent seeking traces of a tragic girl now culminated in a shared, unjust demise. What cruel twist of fate connected two shining lights only to extinguish them coldly, devoid of reason or purpose?
Ta wished she could share the cosmic joke, but the layers of painful satire were hers alone to perceive. As her eyes clung to Niay's immortalized likeness, she gasped for breath, blood staining her small, emerald-painted lips.
"Twenty-two centuries apart, yet we both meet our end at the hands of those we trusted most," she rasped, darkness creeping into the edges of her vision. She gazed at Niay's image, reflecting bitterly on the inevitability of her fate. "Though we meet in the middle of the journey of life, the roads we travel are different." Their lives intersected only through loss and betrayal by once-trusted individuals.
The stone floor leeched warmth, mirroring the betrayal that chilled her heart. She had believed in her mentor's trustworthiness, only for his knife to find her back just as she uncovered secrets that perished with Loro Cal Niay two millennia before.
Her wounds wept crimson tears, joining the congealing puddle of life essence. Darkness encroached on her vision as her strength rapidly faded. Each breath tasted of copper, the tang of blood filling her mouth along with the ashes of bitter injustice. Time slipped away, and she lay there, in this moment of betrayal and death, enveloped in a deep sense of sorrow and anger.
She was running out of time.
As she lay there, reflecting on the path that had led her to this moment of betrayal and death, Ta felt a deep sense of sorrow and anger wash over her. The pain of her wound and the treachery they had suffered were overwhelming, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of injustice at the cruel fate that had befallen her. Her mind drifted to times long forgotten and how it had all begun.
***
"Papa, will I pass to the great celestial tides and be with mother and sister soon?” the child asked plainly. The small private hospital room was dim and quiet, except for the soft rhythmic beeping of medical machines. The young speaker showed no visible fear, despite the gravity of her question about her own death. Her once lustrous azure skin had faded to a pale parchment gray. Though only eight cycles of the moon, the plump softness of youth had already drained from her delicate features, leaving her round cheeks taut against finely carved bones highlighted in the shadows.
The tall man slumped in weariness stirred, rousing from hours of silent, brooding contemplation at the window, where heavy damask curtains in imperial violet held back the burgeoning twilight. Outside, the last vestiges of sunlit azure faded steadily into swaths of dim lavender and dusky indigo night. He looked worn, with hollows beneath his eyes and skin almost as pale and translucent as her own. Dark hair lay limp across his slender, almost frail shoulders, which curled forward under some invisible burden.
“Not any time soon Ta, the doctors said you will be accompanying Papa for many more years in this twisting tide.” her father's voice was silk-soft as he glided across the shadowed room, footsteps muted by the cool tiles. He settled with quiet grace into the contoured plastic chair beside her elevated bed, its metal legs screeching faintly against the linoleum floor. Larger weathered hands enfolded her tiny azure one, thin skin wrapping over delicate digits like parchment.
The child nodded mute acceptance, though unvoiced questions carved furrows into her young brow. Why was she still tethered to this mortal coil when her mother and sister had already departed into celestial mystery without her?
Though he knows he was Maker blessed that at least this child survived, his grief and the wish to join his beloved wife and youngest daughter, is etched deeply in his quiet movements. Yet he clung to purpose, for though cruel fate had seemingly smothered the candles of his joy, one miraculous flame continued to draw breath. This lone survivor with her mother's star-filled eyes would illuminate his way forward through desolation and shadow. The Maker may be mysterious in her blessings, but he knew this child needed him still.
“Ta, do you know why your mother and I gave you the blessing La when you were born?” At this question, she perked up a little, a glimmer reigniting within the darkness of her gaze. She smiled softly, her cracked lips pulling up at the corners as she reached for her father's hand.
"Because I was your light, and you gave my sister the blessing Cal because she was your hope," she replied, voice ringing like a lone silver bell in the quiet room.
The man nodded, a wan smile drifting over his own lips, lined and faded like well-read pages. Her words seemed to pluck at heartstrings within him that still faintly resonated. He patted her small hand, his eyes clinging to her upturned face as one desperate, adrift in open ocean clings to a piece of driftwood.
“That is true, our hope has gone to be with mother in the Celestial Tides, but our light has stayed to guide me forward. You must always remember to be good, strong, and bright for Papa, please?” She was his anchor now, this tiny fierce soul.
“I will, Papa I promise I will try and shine the brightest for you until we can see mama and sister again.” she whispered solemnly. Her small hand squeezed his with a surprising strength, like the first tenacious blossoms piercing through snow towards the sun. Though only a child, she seemed to understand with grave maturity how untethered her father felt, cast adrift by loss. She would be his beacon fire in the lonely dark.
"Thank you, my little La." Relief at her selfless compassion trembled through him. With paternal tenderness he traced one curved cheekbone in a caress light as moth wings, memorizing his last luminary. Then, blinking back grateful tears, he awoke the projection stored in his personal biometrics chip.
Ghostly pale light bloomed in the dim room, coalescing into the hologram of another young girl - taller than his daughter though likely not much older. Deepest emerald skin and flowing sable hair implied the planetary origin of Ancient Nuria, the crimson chrysanthemums adorning her ivory robe adding artful brilliance. But most striking were her eyes: twin pools of violet, deep and wise beyond her years.
"I have a gift for you, I know how boring it can be while recuperating, so I would like you to meet a new friend from long ago..."
"Papa, who is she?" the child breathed, intrigued. She sat up straighter in the curved plastic bed, the starch-stiff sheets crinkling like autumn leaves around her wasting frame. Dark eyes reflected plum-colored in the aquamarine glow of projected light as they traced over the other girl's elegant features. What mysteries of ages past or distant worlds might this lovely visionary unveil?
"Her name is Niay, blessed as Cal, of the Loro noble clan on Ancient Nuria, granddaughter of a very ancient Esteem." His voice took on a new vibrancy as he shared this fresh discovery. "She will be our special friend and teacher in history. For deciphering Niay's world is my new assignment from the Interplanetary Archaeology Council."
With a flick of his wrist he changed the projection, the regal girl's image shrinking then disappearing into vast darkness edged with points of brightness like faraway candle flames. A document written in spidery script emerged from shadows, illuminated as if by flickering firelight - beautiful yet indecipherable.
"This is the ancient Nurian language. The people of planet Nurian were very proud and secretive of their cultural heritage. The Royal Esteem at the time of what they call ‘External Contact’ wanted to guard against outside influences, so their planetary languages were not allowed to leave the planet.
“Merchants and dignitaries that traded in off-world goods and information needed to know two trade languages, one was a variation of our current universal language. The other was created to protect the true language of the planet. As time passed and the Esteem ruling system was abolished, these pseudo-languages became the planet’s common written language, and over time many of the languages and their meanings faded from recollection.” His scholar's passion kindled embers of excitement despite the exhaustion in his face. "Only now are the ancient tongues being unearthed and understood."
"So few souls in our age, either human or artificial intelligence, can accurately decipher these symbols patterned like celestial constellations on the page. The vocabulary itself shape-shifts subtly based on the writer's age and societal position, making static interpretation impossible.
“Unlike our words, which are now universal, a young male of eight would use different symbols than a young female of eight. The same symbols for those same two individuals will have a more evolved meaning at twenty-eight and would mean very different things. The lower classes had different symbol sets than the merchant class, and the merchant class had different sets than the noble class.” His weathered fingers traced tenderly over the ghostly glowing symbols as one might caress a lover’s face.
“So, they had twelve different languages for one society?” She asks, amazed at the complexity, as a child growing up with only a universal language it was mind-boggling.
"Your count is close my light, this intricate script - one of nineteen ancient Nurian languages once lost to the ravages of war and time - is the reason your father received this prestigious assignment," he explained with quiet pride.
“For young Niay, barely older than you when she recorded her story, certain graceful strokes here would imply innocence and joy.” He smiled sadly, envisioning her delighted brush dancing across priceless parchment.
“Yet by her twentieth year, marking the same elegant configurations would convey duty, new sorrows, perhaps glimpses of darkness approaching.” His strong scholar’s jaw tightened with emotional affinity across the centuries.
“How could the languages be lost? Didn’t they have databases back then?” The man smiles brightly at his oldest daughter's curiosity for the first time since the planetary pandemic took his wife and youngest child. With a sigh, he stands and scoops her small frame up, placing her in his lap and holding her close as he continues. Regarding her with academic respect despite her youth, pleased by the acuity of her hungry mind. Wanting to nurture that precocious intellect, he provided a thorough context in his firm yet patient tone.
"You raise a thoughtful question. While data replication is infinite today, ancient Nuria's people crafted knowledge on organic pages. They believed tree derivatives channeled spiritual wisdom. Only imperial decrees and holy scripture were stored digitally when armored Esteem Frendi invaded."
He felt Ta tense, visualizing the implications of aggressive colonization. Gently caressing her shoulder in reassurance, he continued his somber lecture.
"The Nurians were conquered violently over seven years of combat. Esteem Frendi coveted their considerable industrial resources and strategic orbital positioning over the Lotus Gateway. His military forces unleashed what we now classify as Nenti-grade bioweapons on the Nurian surface."
"The neutron-based chemicals reacted with atmospheric molecules, exponentially multiplying into an uninhabitable toxic ever-expanding shroud around the planet. Their citizens were forced into an exiled diaspora, scattering to distant space stations. Over generations, continuity of cultural knowledge faded - including their languages."
He gave Ta an encouraging smile. Ta vaguely knew some things from school but it was all basic history.
"In truth, very few souls left in this universe could decipher the ancient Nurian languages," her father explained as he rocked her gently. "Even crystalline supercomputers struggle to interpret many of their ancient symbols intuitively."
"But how are you able to translate them then, Papa?" the child asked, gazing up at him in awe.
He smiled, lightly tapping a long index finger against the side of his nose. "Do you remember the Story of the Stolen Glyphs - how in eras before the Great Peace, enemy raiders kidnapped Clan Leaders, stole lexical records, and nearly silenced our ancestral tongues?"
Her round eyes widened, reflecting projected figures dancing like celestial shadows around the dark room.
"Our Eldest Elders spent fifteen generations reassembling glyphic knowledge and compiling dictionaries. As one of the longest unbroken linguistic heritages on our own planet, our extensive lexicons allow me a profound advantage in interpreting dead cultures like Nuria's."His display chip now projected images from orbiting space stations as he concluded solemnly.
"Their descendants orbit still as exiles from their ancestral dead planet. The Interplanetary Council asked for help reconstructing lost history." He gave his daughter a hopeful smile.
"Will you join me in rescuing Niay's voice across centuries, my bright star?" As she nodded excitedly, his fingers traced softly over the alien glyphs.
"Then let us begin listening closely..." With recording active, he began slowly translating the personal diary of their new friend from the distant fallen world.
Her mind filtered to another strong memory, the day she lost her father. Ta La Mar awoke in her climate-controlled floating glass pod to the sound of rushing water and howling winds outside. Through transparent walls, raging waves crashed against kinetic barriers protecting her family's floating residence..
Once, her ancestors were masters of those turbulent waters - battle-hardened mariners who navigated Nánxiàn’s deadly storms in wooden sailing ships by wit and sinew alone. Now, centuries removed from those explorer captains, their descendants relied upon advanced meteorological controls rather than skill to maintain basic functions in the face of frequent typhoons.
As the ocean planet's designated intellectual elite allowed to focus on academic scholarship over mandatory naval training, Ta La Mar’s clan was an anomaly produced by her civilization’s stringent caste protocols. This role afforded her family the privilege of an individual home rather than communal storm shelter barracks.
From the comfort of the transparent aquatic structure, the impressive machinery powering the floating large home’s protective shields and planets regulating biospheres seemed worlds away from the ancient navigation tools and nautical records she studied.
Yet she felt the weight of ancestry pulsing in her blood as she watched waves crash relentlessly against infrastructure built to oppose her birth world's primal fury.
An incoming transmission chime from the institute's data archives vibrated through the pipe conduits circulating warmth to Ta's glass haven.
“Ta, where are you right now?” Fifteen-year-old Ta La Mar smiled at the image of her father as she answered the transwire call. She stood in a spacious room surrounded by large clear windows that provided a stunning view of the raging ocean waters stirred up by the high winds. The environmental systems that typically regulated the never-ending storms to keep the single small continent habitable and safe were temporarily deactivated to conserve energy.
The frequent weather disruptions were a constant reminder of the ocean planet's untamable nature and how Ta's ancestors had needed to adapt into a resilient seafaring civilization to carve out an existence on the volatile world. Through advanced technology and unity against the harsh elements over generations, the Nurians had managed to build cities with protective shields and controls to withstand the violent storms. But the battle was never fully won.
“Just woke up Papa," Ta said with a proud smile. "I finished my testing series six cycles early. Now I have half a lunar year until I can advance. They should really increase the requirements of standardized tests, or allow for instant promotion to encourage continuous study.” Her father gave a weary sigh at his daughter's boastfulness.
“Ta, if you keep embarrassing your classmates and teachers by advancing so quickly, you will have no friends in the future,” he chided, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. He knew Ta's brilliance isolated her from her peers, who neither understood her nor shared her almost single-minded desire to unlock the secrets of their ocean planet's rich history in the archives where he worked.
“Papa, you know I don’t care what others think, the work is too easy. I would rather spend time working with you and Niay Cal than understand the barbaric prepubescent rituals of my generation. Do you really wish me to try and understand why many of my classmates feel that it is attractive to get permanent facial markings? Or how group gatherings frequently lead to hormonal exchanges of lust with a staggeringly regular outcome of pre-marital intercourse?” Ta spoke clinically for the shock value and watched as her father’s eyes opened in astonishment and dismay.
Ta had little interest in the shallow games and rituals that seemed to consume most of the other children. She felt more kinship with the people found in ancient texts than those physically around her who could not comprehend her mind. Her only true friends were her father and Loro Cal Niay.
“Ta surely, there are children who think of more than carnal relations and facial deformations, you should give your peers a chance. I fear I have let you down, allowing you to only befriend ghosts of the past.” He said, exasperated. But his daughter laughed, showing her bright white teeth.
“Papa, when I find such individuals, I promise I will make their solid acquaintance. However, I am happy with the friends I have. Ghosts can not mock or distress me and Niay will never ridicule my outfits or ask me to try illicit substances that could lead to poor cognitive abilities. Did you receive my final year scores? Is that why you called?”
Ta tried to reassure her father as the gathering winds began to howl outside, a sure sign the shield was being reduced. She moved to sit in her favorite plush purple chair by the window, hoping her strong academic results would reassure her father that her solitary pursuits were not stunting her social-emotional growth, even if she struggled to relate to most youths her age. Sipping her bright yellow juice, she studied her father intently for his reaction, sensing something deeper troubling him behind his concerns over her social life.
"No, that is not why I contacted you, my dear," her father said, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "I sent a gift that should have arrived. I wanted to ensure you received it before I left for an important meeting."
Ta noticed her father suddenly grow anxious as he gathered items into his worn bag as if just remembering urgent tasks. She moved down the hallway to the entrance where the delivery slot blinked.
"A package did arrive while I slept. What is it, Papa?" she asked. He gave a cryptic smile and winked one of his violet eyes.
"You shall see, little La." Was that a flicker of nervousness she spotted? But just as quickly it vanished as he slung on his bag.
"I must go now. Always remember I love you, and some secrets are best kept as such," he said seriously. "Lock everything tonight - the environmental systems will be down in our sector for repair tonight. With fortune, I shall return on the morrow with good news."
Ta puzzled over her father's eccentric behavior as he rushed off. Scanning inside the delivery slot, she collected a small metal box and retired to the window room to examine its contents before the coming storm obscured the sunlight.
Settling back into her plush purple chair, Ta carefully opened the metal box. Inside was a smaller package wrapped in ancient paper. Ta recognized the Nurian script immediately - it was a game her father had invented to teach her the old language. Scanning the coded symbols in the corner that denoted the writer's age, gender, and status, she determined it was meant to have been penned by an adult woman of the merchant class.
Though less telling than traditional brushstrokes, the hurried penmanship still hinted at the author’s state of mind. Ta knew her father’s hand better than any; the sharp angles and slight tremors revealed his nervous haste. The letter seemed written in a rush, without his usual measured wording. Strange that he would risk sending something so archaic and forbidden rather than composing a digital message.
My dearest Ta,
Enclosed is a special gift. It once belonged to a dear friend of ours, now long departed, and is precious beyond simple measurement. While I know your Day of Birth celebration has not yet arrived, please accept this early token with my affection to mark your coming passage into maturity.
Cherish this heirloom always. Let it be a guiding star anchoring you to the past as you navigate the rocky seas toward your own glittering future. Wherever fate’s tides may pull, never forget the virtues of empathy, wisdom, and honor instilled in you. For through living them fully, you unlock the future’s bright promise.
With deepest love and belief in the remarkable woman you are becoming,
Your ever-proud Father
The ornate language and sentimental tone were unlike his usual practical style. Ta traced the sweeping letters, troubled. This gift held a powerful meaning for him.
Feeling uneasy about her father's actions and state of mind, Ta took the paper to the disposal unit and slid it in. She watched as the paper particles were recycled. The keys to understanding the ancient language had turned into the Mar family secret. As the Nurian government would only allow ten non-citizens to learn it at a time as per the historical research guidelines of their planet.
Due to the planet’s rich history of familial traditions, she had been given permission to learn it from her father, making her one of the current ten legally registered to translate and interpret for The Ministry of Historical Reclamation. As such, uncoded or hard copy documents were not legally allowed to exist outside of The Archive of Recorded Planetary Histories.
Ta opened the box to find a beautifully designed charm bracelet. She slid it around her wrist, suddenly jumping as an electronic spark jolted through her body, coursing up her arm. She shook violently for a moment, the bracelet tinkling but did not slip from her wrist as if it had been molded to her. The blue gems were glistening in the sunlight like droplets of captured ocean water.
***
Ta's eyes were glazing over slowly her vision fixed on the azure charm bracelet the young girl wore in the portrait before her then slid to her limp arm and the identical treasure that wrapped her pale limp wrist, now muted and crusted with the congealing fluid of her vibrant young body. Rage simmered in Ta's fading gaze at the injustice and betrayal. Her mentor, who had murdered her father years ago, would now prosper from her senseless death.
"How could we...be so blind?" she rasped to the inanimate image.
As darkness encroached, sorrow pierced her heart for bright Niay, whose obscured truth she had sought. How she had longed to unveil the tragic conspiracy buried alongside that girl over two millennia ago on alien soil - to restore luster to Niay's legacy tarnished by forgotten malice. To avenge the injustice done to both ingenious souls linked by strange destiny across the gulfs of time.
“I am betrayed. It has all been lies. When this record is found, may it be understood that I was murdered by my stepmother Vorno Val Taryn and her lover, my husband, Zar La Karin. All my suffering has been at their hands. The poison was slow, but that worked just fine for them. In my final feeble state, they came to confess all, to gloat, knowing I had no one left to support me, to care about my miserable existence, and that all of their treacherous acts against the Esteem will be laid at my feet, destroying the name Loro. By this oath, I curse them, for those they have taken from me and for all they have done. May the Maker never resurrect their treacherous souls; vengeance be granted to me in the life hereafter.
It has been days, and my body has been racked by terrible pain brought on by the final stages of the poison as it slowly eats at me from the insides. As I lie here struggling to breathe, unable to speak, they have spent countless phases telling me about how I have helped them accomplish their goals and put them in power. How they slowly captured, discredited, and killed my friends and allies. How they will eventually destroy my entire clan. All the years they spent and the many attempts on my life. They reveled in my disfigurement and the suffering, as each attempt left me more and more alone, more and more unable to help myself or save anyone.
As the hungry flames creep closer, I sit in resigned acceptance of my fate. How tragic and inconceivable that I - granddaughter of the revered Esteem Trenri - now find my name tarnished by scandal and my body condemned by fire.
The smoke permeates my lungs, already weakened by years of my mother's insidious poison. She and my beloved husband conspired as forbidden lovers to steal power, framing me for my noble grandfather's suspicious death. I have been falsely accused and now must face punishment by flame and have my honor blackened for generations.
Perhaps the creeping tendrils of smoke will grant me mercy - embracing me in eternal sleep before the biting flames enact the Maker's justice. Yet I shall not pass gently without leaving proof of this betrayal to later be weighed against me by the Maker's great scale. I record the truth of their treachery so one day my soul may find peace when my name is cleared.
As the fire surrounds me, I lament all that perishes with me. My dreams of love, my aspirations for the future, my pride in my accomplishments - all turned to ash as surely as my flesh will. But true death is to be forgotten; as long as one person remembers me, I endure.
I leave this account alongside my ancestry - an ornate bracelet, carved jade links passed through generations of mothers in our family, traced back to the holy era of the Maker's mortal form. May whoever finds these know I was once a woman of honor and virtue, the last daughter in an esteemed lineage. As smoke steals my breath, I plant the seeds of hope though I shall not see their bloom. I must trust that the Maker shall ensure justice in her time, not mine. My legacy now rests in the hands of fate and fortune”
This account and five names were the last written words by Loro Cal Niay.
"Oh Niay," she choked bitterly, "I wanted to restore your reputation...bring justice against those who destroyed your bright spirit..."
Ta wished there was a way to reverse time. To understand that when the bracelet opened the hidden vault and revealed the final journal belonging to Loro Cal Niay, it would start the countdown to her own final hours. Within half a lunar year, it would all be over. When she excitedly revealed the truth behind the life and tragic death of Loro Cal Niay to her Mentor, master, and adopted father So Val Vorno. The man who had raised her as his own since the night her father had died in the transport accident. She no longer felt the pain from the knife wound, where So Val had stabbed her before he picked up the final journals. The soft pale green Nurian features of his handsome familiar face twisted by an ugly vile smile.
“Ta, are you in here?” The soft melodic voice of her best friend rang through the empty research facility bouncing in the quiet stillness as she breathed her last, rage burning as the light left her eyes.
“Maker bring us justice.” Her last thought as her vision failed, and darkness swept her away the secrets would die alongside Ta's last breath, the clues and vindication perishing with her vitality. She grieved for her lost research, and life's passionate work suddenly ended halfway. And for her father, whose name would remain smeared by false accusations with none left to clear it. As the last drops of life's blood pulsed out, icy failure flooded her veins. She had failed herself, failed radiant Niay, failed all those who depended on her resurrecting long-buried truth from the grave of the past. Their faint hopes for redemption and justice turned to ashes in her mouth along with her dying breath.
