Allentyr's eve

The hover bike hummed beneath Cassian as he sped back toward the Stone of Sillus. The sleek machine sliced through the evening air, its anti-grav plates emitting a soft blue glow that illuminated the water channels below. Sillus sprawled around him, a futuristic Venice of elegant spires and floating platforms, crisscrossed by luminescent waterways where nanotech-enhanced boats glided silently between ancient-looking buildings retrofitted with quantum-glass windows.

But Cassian—or rather, Kai within Cassian's homunculus body—still couldn't shake the sense of displacement. The memories of two lives intertwined in his consciousness: one belonging to the original Cassian, whose genetic memory had been awakened in this clone body; the other his own, from a time centuries past.

I don't belong here, he thought, guiding the hover bike around a towering hologram advertisement projected from one of the floating platforms. But I need to play my part perfectly. Too much depends on it.

The bike slowed as he approached a major intersection, and that's when he saw her, larger than life, her image towering over the central plaza. The hierarch of Venus herself, Lady Astra, resplendent in her regal attire. The massive hologram showed her addressing the masses from an ornate platform, flanked by her three daughters-the Furies. The shimmering projection created an illusion of divine presence, her features both ethereally beautiful and inhuman in their perfection.

The goddess of Venus, Kai thought bitterly.

According to the Jovan Sovereign book he'd read in his previous life, Astra had been crafted by the Sovereign as the embodiment of divine femininity. She'd transformed Venus into a hedonistic paradise after receiving it as a gift following its terraformation—a gift that should have gone to Raa the hierarch of Mercury, who had actually done the work. The "perfect daughter," blessed with beauty and genius, who ruled through her Furies while obsessing over her genetic experiments and homunculi creations.

Cassian's genetic memories supplied the reverence most Venusians felt toward her, the mix of fear and adoration. But Kai knew better. He knew what would come, the rebellions, the civil wars, the bloodshed when the carefully constructed solar system would begin cracking at its foundations.

"Your divine Hierarch addresses you, children of Venus," the hologram's voice boomed across the plaza, impossibly melodic. "Remember that in our perfection, we find purpose. In our pleasure, we find meaning."

Kai's hands tightened on the handlebars. And in your arrogance, you'll find your downfall.

As he guided the bike away from the plaza, leaving the projection behind, he contemplated the strange path that had brought him here. Consciousness hurled centuries forward, into a fabricated body, a clone of a dead boy, created by rebels for purposes they believed were their own.

If only they knew, he thought, accelerating the hover bike toward the distant silhouette of the Stone of Sillus, perched atop its sheer cliff face, gleaming blood-red in the fading light. I'm not their puppet. I have my own mission now.

The hover bike had barely settled on its landing pad when Pollan appeared, his tall, skeletal frame silhouetted against the manor's entrance. The head butler's face was a rigid mask as Cassian dismounted.

"Master Cassian," Pollan said, the words carrying the weight of accusation. "I believe we should discuss your... excursion."

Cassian affected nonchalance. "I was simply touring the city. Is that an issue?"

Pollan's gray eyes narrowed. "The hover bike's tracking system shows you visited the southern outskirts. That area is not known for its tourist attractions, unless one counts criminal enterprises and disreputable establishments."

"I wasn't aware I was under surveillance," Cassian replied, removing his riding gloves. "Or that I was a prisoner here."

"You are a guest," Pollan corrected, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "A guest who claims to be the son of fallen friends of Lord Severian. A guest whose identity we have accepted on faith. And now that guest is making mysterious trips to the underbelly of Sillus."

Cassian stepped forward. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"I am reminding you," Pollan said, each word precisely measured, "that Lord Severian's safety is my primary concern. The Aurelius family has enemies. Powerful ones. If you are somehow involved—"

"That's enough, Pollan."

Both men turned to see Rhyanna approaching, her elegant doll-like features betraying no emotion, though her eyes held a warning. 

"Lady Rhyanna," Pollan acknowledged with a slight bow. "I was merely—"

"Interrogating our guest," she finished for him. "I heard. Perhaps you could direct that vigilance toward the actual threats to our lord, rather than a boy seeking to understand the city where his parents died."

Pollan's mouth tightened to a thin line, but he inclined his head respectfully. "As you wish. But I will be monitoring the situation." With one last measured look at Cassian, he turned and disappeared into the manor.

Rhyanna sighed. "You'll have to forgive Pollan. His devotion to the Aurelius family is matched only by his suspicion of outsiders."

"I understand," Cassian said, falling into step beside her as they entered the great hall. "He's doing his job."

"Indeed. And now, perhaps you might do yours and join me for dinner. Cook has prepared something special, and I find empty tables depressing."

The dining hall of the Stone of Sillus was designed to accommodate fifty people, with a table long enough to host the banquets of a bygone era. Now, Cassian and Rhyanna sat at one end, their plates and glasses looking small and lonely in the vast space.

"You know," Rhyanna said, slicing into a piece of cultured meat with practiced precision, "Severian is prepared to sponsor you for many futures that don't involve becoming a palatine."

Cassian looked up from his plate. "What do you mean?"

"He has connections at universities across Venus. Research positions. Political appointments. Even off-world opportunities. All much safer than the Institute."

"And all ways to keep me away from finding out what happened to my parents," Cassian replied.

Rhyanna's eyes studied him. Unlike most homunculi, whose eyes betrayed their synthetic nature with unnatural colors or luminescence, hers were a warm amber, cunningly crafted to mimic the minute movements of human eyes.

"Is revenge so important to you?" she asked quietly.

"It's not revenge," Cassian said, setting down his fork. "It's justice. It's truth."

And so much more than either of you could understand, he thought.

"Many who seek the Institute find only death," Rhyanna said. "Even with patronage. Even with talent."

"Like Phoebe Aurelius?" Cassian asked pointedly.

A flash of something—pain, perhaps—crossed Rhyanna's face. "Yes. Like Phoebe. Who was brilliant and fierce and who died anyway."

"Then you understand why I have to go," Cassian said. "I can't just live comfortably while questions about my parents remain unanswered. I'm not built that way."

Rhyanna studied him for a long moment. "No, I suppose you're not." She rose with fluid grace. "Finish your meal. And try not to antagonize Pollan further. His memory holds grudges better than any human could."

As she glided from the room, Cassian was left with the weight of his lies.

The days that followed settled into a routine. Mornings in the archives, afternoons in the training hall, evenings planning his infiltration of the Allentyr competition.

The archive library of the Aurelius manor was a treasure trove of both physical texts and digital archives, spanning centuries of human history. Cassian spent hours poring over the schematics of the pyramid catacombs on Emeshi Island, studying the patterns of wall shifts, memorizing the layout of each section. His eidetic memory allowed him to absorb and retain information with preternatural efficiency.

As he studied, he also refreshed his knowledge of the system's politics and history, comparing what he remembered from the Jovan Sovereign book with the official records. The divergences were instructive.

The historical archives painted the Sovereign—Caesar the First—as humanity's savior, who had risen from the ashes of the AI wars to reunite Earth under his banner. The official account described how he had crafted his immortal children, the hierarchs, to help shepherd humanity to a golden age, conquering the solar system and establishing a new civilization from the ruins of the old.

so that's how it happens. He thought. The world had been building towards the singularity when I left, seems the AIs eventually revolted. I expected as much.

According to the official records, humanity had delegated most of the terraforming processes to huge titan androids manned by artificial intelligences. After the singularity event, most of the sentient machines revolted and from the lunar station, the earth's surface was bombarded, plunging the world into the dark ages.

It would be centuries before the sovereign rose to power, fighting and conquering majority of the barbarian societies that had sprouted in the post apocalyptic wasteland of earth and uniting them under his banner. Knowing that it would take centuries and even millenia for him to shepherd humanity to the golden age, he began the work of crafting his own immortal assistants, each borne of an inherent quality he loved. These children of his would be used to continue his task of conquering the whole solar system. To aid them in their quest he made the imperium knights from the human population.

The hierarchs took to the stars together with their knights in what was referred to as the first crusade and ousted the titan androids, who had advanced as far as Jupiter's moons. Then the seven hierarchs took dominion over the planets, finishing the terraforming and settling in all the habitable planets and moons. From Hierarch Raa in Mercury to Hierarch Ren in Ganymede

They left out the part about the Sovereign's deal with the eldritch being for the atto molecule and vyshadium, Kai thought as he skimmed through a particularly flowery account of the first crusade. And they certainly never mention that some of the Hierarchs hate each other.

The records of the second crusade were similarly sanitized, when the hierarch Yurek and knights sworn to him had revolted leading to civil war in the asteroid belt and the rim planets, describing it as the unfortunate madness of a single Hierarch rather than the beginning of the cracks in the Imperium's foundation. 

Details of the looming alien threat that prompted the third crusade were sparse. He could only find minimal information about the megastructure ring that had formed in the vicinity of pluto connecting them to other galaxies. It was by exploring this einstein-rosen bridge that the imperium knights had made first contact with the xenobytes, a hostile alien race. The massacre of a whole platoon of imperium knights and the subsequent arrival of three ships the size of moons had prompted the launching of the third crusade. The ships had been rebuffed and freshly minted imperium knights were deployed and stationed on moons past uranus, as active troops fought the war in distant alien worlds connected to them by the gate as they had not been able to shut it down.

at least 40 years of active duty in the legions after the institute and the apotheosis ritual. Cassian mused. at least the life span of a palatine is 300 years, but that doesn't matter to me, that event in the Jovan book happens in less than three years from now, and the xenobytes will be right at our doorstep on earth. Then it will be too late. Is this why I was sent here? To prevent that outcome?

In the afternoons, Cassian trained.

The training hall of the Stone of Sillus was a massive chamber lined with weapons of various eras, everything from ancient Earth weapons like swords and spears to more modern energy weapons and gravity manipulators. The walls were reinforced with impact-absorption materials, and the floor could reconfigure to create various training environments.

Cassian would often find himself studying the weapons on display before his sessions, particularly the whip-swords like the ones Severian used. According to the plaques, these were an Aurelius family specialty—plasma-edged blades that could extend and retract with neural command, allowing them to function as both standard swords and whipping distance weapons.

The training system itself was state-of-the-art. When activated, it would project augmented reality opponents into the space, their forms solid enough to provide resistance through a combination of holography and focused sound waves. The difficulty ranged from civilian level to advanced palatine.

Today, Cassian had pushed himself to seven C-ranked opponents, far below what a true palatine initiate should handle, but impressive for someone without an integrated atto-molecule.

He stood in the center of the training floor, chest heaving, as seven spectral warriors circled him. They were modeled after various fighting styles, one wielding a standard-issue heavy blade, another in the stance of a Martian valkan hybrid fighter, a third with the twin blades favored by the Venusian royal guard.

"Begin sequence," Cassian commanded.

The holographic warriors attacked simultaneously. Cassian ducked under the heavy blade of the first, using his momentum to slide between the legs of the second. Rolling to his feet, he caught the wrist of the third attacker, redirecting its energy blade into the chest of a fourth.

Too slow, he thought as a fifth opponent's kick caught him in the side, sending him stumbling. The real palatines would have ended this in seconds.

The synchronicity between a human and the atto-molecule determined their potential as a knight. Those with 90-100% were the rare S-class knights, capable of feats that seemed like magic. Even A-class knights with 70-90% synchronicity were formidable beyond measure. He estimated Severian was at least A class.

And what am I working with? Cassian thought as he barely avoided a jab from the sixth opponent. The body of a homunculus clone with unknown potential.

He managed to disable two more of his opponents before the remaining five overwhelmed him, their spectral blades stopping millimeters from his vital points.

"Simulation complete. Success rate: 28.7%. Below acceptable threshold for palatine candidacy," announced the system's calm voice.

Cassian sat up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Reset and—"

"I think that's enough for today," came Rhyanna's voice from the doorway.

She stood watching him, arms folded across her chest, an amused expression on her face.

"Severian could clear at least nine A-ranked opponents when he was your age," she said, approaching with a towel which she tossed to him. "Octavian could handle twelve."

Cassian caught the towel, using it to wipe his face. "And you're telling me this to make me feel better?"

Rhyanna laughed, the sound melodious and surprisingly genuine for a homunculus. "I'm telling you this so you understand what you're up against. The training program you're using is standard issue for palatine families. Their children grow up with these simulations, mastering them before they're ten. By the time they reach the Institute, they're already formidable."

"So you're saying it's still possible for me to stop this foolishness?" Cassian asked, rising to his feet.

"That would be the wise choice," Rhyanna agreed.

Cassian shook his head. "Wisdom isn't always the right path."

"No," she said thoughtfully. "Sometimes it isn't." After a pause, she asked, "Will you be attending the Allentyr festival? It begins in two days."

"Will you?" Cassian countered.

Rhyanna's expression dimmed slightly. "No. The Aurelius family has not been present at the pyramid since Phoebe was embalmed. Severian... doesn't wish to return."

Cassian nodded, filing away this information. "I understand."

That night, as pale moonlight streamed through the windows of his quarters, Cassian sent the final details of his plan to Baudin through an encrypted channel. The credentials for his false identity would be ready by morning, along with profiles of his teammates for the infiltration.

At dinner, he cleared his throat as Pollan poured wine into crystal glasses.

"I would like to attend the Allentyr festival," Cassian announced.

Pollan's hand froze mid-pour. "Absolutely not."

"I don't see why not," Cassian replied calmly. "It's a public event."

"It would be an infringement on Lord Severian's honor," Pollan said, his voice tight. "The Aurelius family has chosen not to participate."

"I'm not asking to represent the family," Cassian pointed out. "Just to attend as any citizen might."

"You are not just 'any citizen,'" Pollan snapped, setting down the wine bottle with more force than necessary. "You are a guest of this house, and your actions reflect upon it."

"Am I a prisoner, then?" Cassian asked quietly.

Pollan's face contorted with anger. "Ungrateful boy! After Lord Severian extended his protection to you—"

"That's quite enough, Pollan," Rhyanna interrupted. "Cassian raises a fair point. He is not bound by Aurelius family decisions. If he wishes to observe the festival, that is his right."

Pollan's jaw worked silently for a moment before he adopted a different tack. "It could be dangerous. The Miara and Saheman families control most of the pyramid now. If they recognized him as being under Aurelius protection—"

"Then I will accompany him," Rhyanna said, surprising both men. "To ensure his safety and to supervise his conduct."

Cassian concealed his dismay at this complication. "That's really not necessary—"

"It is the only way to appease Pollan's concerns," Rhyanna said firmly. "And they are not without merit."

Pollan considered this, then gave a curt nod. "If Lady Rhyanna accompanies you, I withdraw my objection."

"Then it's settled," Rhyanna said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "We shall attend the Allentyr festival together."

Later, alone in his room, Cassian received the message from Baudin containing his false credentials and the profiles of his teammates. He scanned the information, committing it to memory, then deleted the message.

Rhyanna's presence complicates things, he thought, staring out at the night sky where distant ships moved like slow-burning stars across the Venusian atmosphere. But it doesn't change my objective.

He closed his eyes, seeing again the holographic image of Astra, the perfect daughter-hierarch, lording over her domain of pleasure and pain. Seeing the Miara and Saheman families plotting their takeover of Sillus. Seeing the Old Man of the Fire, playing his long game from the shadows.

None of them know what's coming, he thought. But I do. And I'll be ready.

The pieces were in motion. In just a day, he would infiltrate the Allentyr competition and begin the next phase of his journey toward the Institute. Toward the truth. Toward the future he had been sent to change.