Aynsefian

Zarasena had no such experience of meeting anyone familiar. Where is she, anyway?

I shuffle towards the only door, leading into the next room. My feet are encased in the softest, warmest, most gentle shoes I’ve ever worn. I didn’t even realise I had them on. They’re incredible. I look down. They are a nondescript white material with no adornments or patterns, and they feel like very thick socks, with soles. My feet delight in the feel of them, sending little bolts of joy into my brain. I could walk all day on these things and, now that I think of it, this is what the townsfolk were wearing when we first arrived. Standard issue, it seems.

The next room is also mostly white too and is illuminated by some soft blue and purple crystals, lighting up some attractive looking indoor plants, in dark grey ceramic pots. Other than these decorations, this room is exceedingly white, too. It’s a rough, crumbly-looking white, kind of like alabaster. The floor, walls and roof have greyish imperfections running through them. So perhaps it is alabaster.

The man who brought me in here hands me a cup of water and then moves away.

A few of the local Aynsefians are milling about in this room, looking busy with various things, although I sense their primary task is to observe me. There are some dark red velvet-like couches in here too.

Zarasena is sitting on one of them, looking radiant.

She’s drinking water. She now has on the same kind of white cotton-like one-piece outfit that I’m wearing. Her reddish hair is in stark contrast to the material, and she looks like a different person altogether. Now she’s truly beautiful. My heart leaps at the sight of her. A thrill goes through me. Then I think of what I’m supposed to do about that.

I have no idea. In many respects, my former asexuality was simpler, easier, more convenient.

She smiles ever so briefly at me, then assumes a commanding presence. I catch on right away.

“Over here, Axin. Right now.” This is Captain Fen, playing the game. I get it.

“Yes sister,” I say, adopting the same tone that the young blonde curly-haired man used a few minutes ago. I walk over to the couch and kneel down at her feet, eyes cast downwards.

“You may sit here, brother,” she says, with an unfeeling tone. I know she’s putting it on. She’s pointing to the couch next to her.

I nod to her in deference. I turn without making eye contact, stand up, and take a seat on the couch she’s referring to. As I sit down, I can feel the eyes of the room on me. There’s a bit of surprise, and perhaps even some subtle approval of my behaviour. Apparently, it doesn’t really matter what Zarasena does, as long as I pay her due respect.

Now I know why the woman we first met was so angry with me. I spoke out of turn, when my leader and superior should have been the one to greet her. Obviously that reputation has followed me here, and they think I am some sort of miscreant or rogue. I can’t afford to be offended. I have to play the game as it stands.

Where this is leading, I have no idea. I haven’t the faintest idea how we’re ever going to get back to our companions, and to safety. My whole being longs for Inconflencia. I just want this all to be over. I feel lost and hopeless. My only choice now is to take each moment as it comes, hoping we find some way get back to the empty auditorium in the future Aynsefian, millennia after it has been abandoned.

Some food and more water is provided for us. A man brings it over on a tray and offers it to Zarasena. She takes her share and then flicks her right hand over the tray towards me, unfeelingly, dismissively. I am allowed to have some food and water. I’m not offended.

I try some of the food. It has a soft, airy feel in my mouth. It tastes like a light type of cheese, but mixed with crackers, so that I get both sensations at once. I really like it. It satisfies all of my hunger in only a small portion. It’s really quite remarkable.

I carefully steal a glance at Zarasena, making brief eye contact, but adopting a deferent countenance. She’s enjoying the food as much as I am. A micro-expression of hers also catches my awareness. She’s having fun putting me in my place. I can hear “Fernea” in her voice, in my head. I want to offer a riposte back, but now is clearly not the time.

I quickly glance around the room. There are six males in here. No females. They are all quietly watching us while engaged in other tasks. I realise that my suspicious glancing around the room will draw attention, but I also reason that they’d expect this of me and not blame me. So I continue to survey the room.

The males are all different. There’s the blonde curly-haired man who I first saw after my procedure and who led me in here. He is cleaning a bench nearby. Another man with short dark hair is over on the far wall. He’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s observing us. Well, me anyway. It feels like it would be rude of them to watch Zarasena. This man is doing it anyway. Another man with red hair is talking quietly with a dark-haired, shorter man who looks a lot like Lanemu, Zarasena’s drinks waiter. Two other men with sandy-coloured hair of different lengths and textures are preparing food over on another bench.

This is some sort of meeting place, and it appears to me as if the main double-door next to the food preparation area is the focus of this building we’re in.

I look down at the floor again. I will hide my thoughts and feelings as much as I can by staring at the floor. I will be a total introvert. This is fine. I’ve had plenty of practice at it.

A side door opens. Through it walks an immaculately attired woman. Her blonde hair is tied up neatly in a bun, and her white outfit has a light blue belt around her waist. I’m assuming this endows her with some sort of official capacity. Her deep blue eyes scan the room and settle on Zarasena.

My eyes are drawn to this woman and I realise I probably shouldn’t be looking at her so much, but I can’t help it. Her purpose here is yet to be revealed but her gait and body language implies that she might even be able to help us. She heads straight for Zarasena and actually smiles at her. I’m stunned. Zarasena smiles back.

“Hello sister,” she says, in a somewhat deep but still feminine voice. “I am Tu’ann.”

“Pleased to meet you, Tu’aan,” says Zarasena, much warmth evident in her tone. I am back to looking at the floor now. “I am Zarasena, and my brother here is called Axin.”

Zarasena manages to tinge her description of me with a little bit of contempt. I’m not offended. She’s playing the necessary game.

Tu’aan doesn’t respond to the description of me. “Nice to meet you, Zarasena. I’m your counsel and will advise you on your upcoming appearance in the Most High court,” she says.

“Thank you for helping me,” says Zarasena, omitting the “us” that she might have said in other circumstances.

“You are welcome, Zarasena.” Tu’aan pauses. Zarasena says nothing, but this is at least a positive conversation. So far it seems like just about everyone has been out to get us. Especially me.

Tu’aan continues. “I have been briefed on your unexpected arrival in our society, and the slight against our sister in the village at the Cliff. This is a grave matter, but it is not up to me to predict your fate. I am also not permitted to advise you on what to say specifically in front her eminence the Most High Va’dali Ormeron, when you will be presented in her court shortly.”

Straight into the fire, it seems. Virtually no time to prepare or consider for our fate, whatever it is.

Zarasena is staying respectfully silent.

“As your brother has committed an offence against our people, unfortunately you are implicated, and the best thing I can do for you is advise you to speak wisely and honestly in front of her eminence. The words you choose will possibly sway her eminence, but ultimately it is her decision what happens to you. I cannot say, and in fact am not allowed to say, what your fate might be. I would advise you above all to be honest in your responses to any questions she might ask and to maintain the utmost of discipline throughout the proceedings.”

I’m not looking up at all, but I can feel the tiniest of glances in my direction.