Senaren

Prince Karlirn Qirlian pushed the hood of his parka back and shook his head, sending silver hair swirling around his face snapping with small sparks of blue magic. Standing inside the human compound as the rest of his entourage scrambled in out of the storm, he felt too irritated to care much about being an inconvenience to the monks of this particular order, or even care what order they were from. It wasn't his fault that the uncontrolled weather on this planet had grounded his transport. Tugging his gloves off, he tried to remind himself that it wasn't the fault of the monastery either.

The planet itself was controlled by humans, Earth born, he was told. According to the report, they'd terraformed only a small island in the northern hemisphere, where making no plans on setting up a functioning colony, no military or trade growth. It was criminal, this waste of a good planet. However, the planet had a great wealth of ilradia, which Se'naren ships used for fuel. The greatest advantage to having to stop on Airos was that no one on Se'naren would need know that his ship had developed difficulties, stopping here would not put him in a disadvantage in negotiations with his brother.

Without looking he heard the members of his entourage take their places around him. Each made a distinctive tone, a clear soft whistle that said offered again their allegiance, gave their prince honor, and told him that they were unharmed. Only the healthy could offer allegiance. Madre, his first mate, leader of the Nariel Clan knelt on the side of his sword. She was a powerful fighter in her own right, baring demon blood that gave her speed as well as bringing a truce between demon, Nariel, and Qirlian Clans. Next back from her, knelt Vedra the physician, Nassa the Livra's technician and pilot, and Mirl who was running communications for the Livra even though he more frequently held a tech/pilot position. The first position on his sword hand was held by Nig, who was navigator on the Livra. The other four positions were held by security, cloned and reared for battle, Sa, Su, and Si. As each knelt and whistled their assigned note, Prince Karlirn felt relief. Each one of them was his responsibility. Losses in battle were unavoidable, if one came to battle, but to lose a retainer for something as ridiculous as ruptured fuel cell, over the sabotage of those who wished for war would have torn his heart.

He stood there pulling off his gloves, trying to decide what kind of place Nig had found for them, when someone finally appeared to greet them. Flowing blue silk covered a form that was likely human, though moved with enough grace to perhaps have carried a bit of elfish blood. A long braid of reddish hair flowed over the right shoulder and down, curving just a bit over one breast, and bouncing against the curve of muscular legs. Her arms were bare, covered only by iridescent blue tattoos, lines that swirled around, climbed her arms and disappeared under the blue silk.

Her eyes meet his and held. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. Her bare feet made little sound on the black and white marble. She circled him, so close that he could smell the scent of her, like bergamot, like sex, musky and strange. Her finger touched his shoulder, pressing against the silver coat he wore, before lifting a strand of his silver hair. Blue sparks danced over the tips, but he refused to move, refused to respond to the inspection. Not a single one of his bondkin moved, responded. She released his hair, and moved to stand in front of him.

Of an equal height, his golden eyes returned the stare of her human blue ones. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his, pulling at his lower lip, the tip of her tongue flicking quickly against the still slightly blue with cold flesh of his lip. Without blinking, he watched her, giving no response at all, and she withdrew, a very small smile lifting her lips.

"Welcome to Airos, Prince Karlirn Qirlian," she said, "We did not expect you, but you are worthy."

At that, he tipped his head slightly. "I require shelter from the storm, and fuel for my ship. Repairs can be effected rapidly. How may I reward you?"

She laughed now. "This is the Temple of Airos, Prince. Even if you were not worthy, we would shelter and aide you. As you are worthy, you must pay, you must accept. But you may choose."

Karlirn thought the ways of offworlders were odd, in the politest phrasing. The storm that had grounded them put polite etiquette at a low priority. "What choices?"

Her smile sent shivers down his back, raised goosebumps down his arm. "Fear not, Prince, for what you choose is the true choice of your soul." She fanned out an array of jewel tiles, bringing them from nowhere to hold them out to him. All colors of the rainbow, paper thin jewels the size of cards. "To each is a door, within lay the gift which your soul will choose."

"Are they keys," he asked, tucking his gloves under his belt. They drew his fingers, these cards, as he moved his fingers over them, never touching, the surface of each transparent jewel lighted with a pattern, shimmering only a moment as his fingers passed.

"The one you choose is the room we will give to you." She said, both hands holding the cards now. "Does one call to you beyond the others?"

It was blue, with silver lines, at the very edge, mostly covered by other cards. With the tip of his nail he touched it and a thrill went though him, singing through his skin, into his lungs, making the air too thick, and down into the pit of his stomach. He swallowed and then touched his finger tip to it, pulling it free. As he turned his hand over, to look at it, it spun free of his grip and rotated above his palm, blue sparks flew, and the card granulized, dropping into his palm like so many millions of particles of sapphire sand. The peace bringing prince of Se'naren's mouth dropped open as sapphire sand dissolved into his skin. "What?"

But he knew already. Without needing to wait for the answer, he strode past her, up the stairs she had come down. In his mind he saw him, heard the soft music of his calling. He gritted his teeth and refused to run, no matter how badly he wanted to. Beyond the stairs, a long corridor of doors, dozens and dozens of doors, jewel tone colors, and he could hear, from within each a sweet song of invitation.. but none of them drew him. Half way down the hall it was all he could do to keep from running. He was the Prince though, and he would not run for pleasure, no matter that he could feel it boiling in his body, already rising and demanding.

Finally, the door came into view on his sword hand side, shimmering and translucent, like a door of the deepest water. Within knelt a man, muscular and balanced, like a dancer, but smooth and delicate like a woman as well. Blue hair, the same color as the door spread around him, a veil of living silk. Karlirn reached forward, the door accepting his fingers, folding around them like a kiss… and he stepped through to meet the choice of his soul.