Lafiel crunched through white sand behind her father.
In the distance, a serene brook burbled through the sand. The walls and ceiling of the room were also white— there was not a single color to be found.
There were several white pillars, inscribed with innumerable tiny names; those who died in the service of the Frybar. A person with sufficient patience would find names like Abriel mixed in with the landed gentry (Ryuuk) and Lef.
The sentence “The Frybar will not forget you” (Frybar A Darl Fronede) wrapped itself around the top of each pillar.
Since they ridiculed all organized religions, the Abh thought of the Hall of Remembrance (Greish Fronetara) as the closest thing to a holy place.
Dubeus stopped at the base of one of the pillars. “Welcome back, Dorfryum. I’m glad you’re here.” He paused to think for a moment. “Though we’ve effectively prevented the body from aging, there’s nothing we can do to stop the soul from getting old. Youth cannot last nearly as long as its appearance. I’m still coming to terms with that fact. But, at least we experience those days of innocence.”
Sighing, Dubeus returned his gaze to the pillar, fixed on one particular spot.
Curious, Lafiel came closer and read the name on the pillar — Lexshu Wef-Robel Plakia.
“I’ve never told you this, Fal Nej, but I never touched your genes. They’re the natural combination. That’s why your ears are kind of small for an Abliar.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Of course, it wasn’t necessary. Plakia really gave me a wonderful gift. Even if I tried to change anything, how could a man like me possibly make you any more beautiful?”
“Thanks, Father.” Lafiel struggled to understand her own emotions. “I’m happy to hear that.”
“Really?” doubted Dubeus. “I always thought you were slightly bitter about the ears.”
“I might have been,” she confessed.
“Yes, I suppose that’s unavoidable, Nouon.” Dubues quieted and stared at the pillar some more. Lafiel stared, too.
Finally, Dubeus broke the silence. “Those really were great times. We were near a giant star on its way out, at the very edge of the event horizon, in the middle of star fog that’s just about to birth a new star… And Plakia and I loved each other very much, causing each other all kinds of problems.”
“Problems?”
Dubeus just smiled. “I’m glad, Asog, that you’re still too young to be in love.”
“You think so?” she half protested.
“As those days wheezed to an end, I couldn’t believe it. I could not help but dread the departure of that wonderful feeling. Thus, I thought, at least…” he trailed off.
“Are you saying that you made me as a memento of your time with Kyua Plakeir?”
Dubeus traced Lexshu’s name with his finger. “She was everything to me then. It was natural for me to try to hold on to a part of that moment forever, Seria.”
“I’m not a souvenir!” Lafiel said angrily. “And I’m not a replica of Kyua Plakeir.”
“Of course not, Loliyuuk Isarlot; Plakia never raised her voice for no reason.”
“For no reason?” demanded Lafiel loudly. Almost instantly, she grew quiet. “I thought you loved me, Father.”
“Of course I love you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t call you Fal Nej?”
“Maybe that’s what you used to call her.”
“I love you as you, Gunar Abliarsar.”
“It’s hard for me to believe you, Father.”
“I know better than to try to change your mind. But please, remember this — you were born as Wabeido
Plakeir, and although you now greatly resemble her, your insides are completely different. At one time, my love passed you by in favor of Plakia, but now, she merely reminds me of you.”
Lafiel was torn. She had nothing but respect for Bomowas Lexshu as a person and an officer. But she wanted her father to recognize her as an independent and separate human being. And although he claimed to, she couldn’t help thinking he was just placating her.
“Was it your idea for me to board Kyua Plakeir’s ship, Father?”
“That would be too convenient to be just a coincidence. I wanted her to polish the treasure I raised.”
“Did you put Jinto on the Gosroth too?”
“Yes. Though that was closer to a coincidence. There were fifteen ships that could have picked up Jarluk Dreur, but I secretly lobbied for the Gosroth. I thought it would be good for you to have at least one Nahen-born friend. I didn’t think you’d become so close, however.”
“When did you become a puppeteer, Father? Next you’ll be telling me you arranged the United Mankind invasion!”
“You overestimate your old man, Fal Fryum. Those guys wouldn’t listen to me. They won’t even listen to your grandmother, who’s going to tear them to pieces.” He sighed. “I got Plakia to birth you, and I raised you alone. That time, however, is ending, because you’re already Fryum Frybaral.”
“Really?”
“She was a great woman.” Dubues reminisced. “When we first met, I was just a Lowas, and she was an up-and-coming Fektodai. I can think of hundreds of reasons why I was enchanted by her, but for the life of me, can’t think of a single one why she would love me.”
“Maybe the Traiga of Feia.” Lafiel couldn’t believe she just said that. It was as if the anger she built up throughout this conversation manifested itself in one terrible, poisonous comment.
Dubeus’ eyes narrowed — although he had one of the most mild dispositions in his family, he was still an Abriel. “You knew Plakia since you were just a little girl. And you rode on her ship. Do you honestly think she was the kind of woman who is dazzled by social status? Answer honestly.”
Lafiel hung her head. “No. She wasn’t like that at all.”
Dubeus watched her for any tell-tale signs of lying. Her shame and regret were legitimate. “Then don’t say that kind of thing.”
Still staring at the sand, Lafiel nodded. “Please tell me one more thing. Do you know what she thought of me?”
“Yes. In a private message, she said, ‘I’m proud of her/ “
“Proud…”
Mentally replaying all the days she spent with Plakia, Lafiel reconstructed the time she spent with the woman who would have been called her ‘mother’ on a land world. Overall, the memories were quite happy.
Her vision blurred, and there was something warm on her cheeks.
“Are you crying, Lafiel?” Dubeus said.
“Not because you scolded me, Father,” she choked out.
“Grieving Plakia’s death?”
Desperately trying to regain control of her convulsive sobs, she nodded.
“I must have done something terribly wrong in raising you,” he said quite affectionately. “I haven’t seen you cry since I took your diapers away, Sok Jenna.”
Dubeus squeezed Lafiel and pulled her to his chest.
“Now, now. Our family has a reputation to uphold, you know. Abliars are cruel. Abliars are callous. Abliars don’t even blink as they watch their friends and lovers succumb to the cruel hand of death. If anyone knew that Abliars shed tears, all our hard work establishing that ignominy could go to waste. I don’t care if you get angry, and I don’t mind if you laugh sometimes. But an Abliar must not cry.”
“Teach me how to grieve like that,” Lafiel lifted her tear-drenched face from her father’s chest, “with no tears.”