A few concepts (and a name *hint* *hint*) that I did not mention in this, was quite easy, actually.
Try to enjoy... *sigh*
Bubi
Defection
Mnemosyne may have been a daughter of the one of the most pre-eminent families in the Brakaan State, being part of what was effectively the ruling family of the Arena (and consequently the most influential family in the entire state), but she felt little real kinship with her aunts, uncles, cousins and however many relatives she had. Her family name was synonymous with a great many things, not least giving the Arena almost more Princes and Princesses than all other families put together. Even now, Mnemosyne’s cousin’s, Lucian II, daughter, Lachesis was the current Princess and had been for the last five years. She wondered at the impact of bearing her particular name as she rode a slow leisurely pace from her family mansion to the main house of the estate. She smirked; perhaps ‘mansion’ and ‘main house’ were misnomers. Her own home was more like a small palatial castle, complete with defence measures and armoury, while there was no point in mincing words about the ‘main house’, it was a fortress and there were no two ways about it. Even from where she was in the wooded grounds between the two, she could see the spires and central tower of the ‘main house’. It was trange that very few members of the family actually lived there, even though it was large enough to cater for an entire Spartiate company. Only the very young lived (and by very young, that meant all those between the ages of five and eighteen), along with the ‘very old (grandmother Verity and her seven children and their respective partners, provided they were still alive). In actuality, there were a fair few attendants at the main house, which Mnemosyne found a little distasteful, though to be fair, they did very little ‘attending’ and were more of a small garrison. And in keeping with military tradition, they kept the place in good order. To the young Grandmaster, it was quite amusing that while it was true that the Prince’s Guards were the super-elite of the regular armed forces, the estate’s garrison was widely considered to be even more elite, though they did not exist in any official capacity (to the point where they could only have the ‘nickname’ of ‘the Garrison of the Arena’). This, along with many other things, contributed to the somewhat awesome public image that her family created. And little they did or said did anything to suggest to the contrary.
She considered her own self for a moment. Like everyone she was blood-related to, Mnemosyne was tall, pale, dark-haired and gaunt. However, she conformed to the family norm, perhaps slightly less than expected. At one hundred and eighty-two centimetres, she was shorter than her grandmother by a hair’s breadth and was consequently the shortest adult member of her generation by quite a bit (and the shortest adult who bore the family name). Even most of her cousins’ children were taller. Also, she had a more hourglass figure than most of her female relatives, making her slightly more feminine. For some reason, she was not that bother by the fact that most of the family was quite androgynous, in an artistic sense, herself included (though some more than others). It was hardly helped by their somewhat similar appearances in general. Mnemosyne counted herself an eccentric since she was easily identifiable by her short hair, and by short, her short ponytail barely reached the base of her neck. Everyone else had hair that was waist length at least. Thinking on it, it probably stemmed from her great-great-grandmother, Andrea, whose hair was a fifth limb, more than a replacement for the right arm she lost when she was twenty. Mnemosyne, like everyone else in her generation (and the next, come to think about it), had sat around her grandmother Verity to listen to stories about their great-grandfather, Lucian I, and great-great-grandparents, Andrea and her husband, Prince Alecksiiz I. The whole issue about having long hair was strange to her, since the ‘founder’ of the family, the aforementioned Alecksiiz, alternated the length of his hair nearly all the time, and often not out of choice. In fact, he ended his life with close cropped hair. If anything, Mnemosyne considered long hair troublesome to maintain.
She sighed as she nudged her horse, a tempestuous stallion called Malleus, to a canter. He snorted disapprovingly, for whatever reason, but obeyed nonetheless. Mnemosyne was one of the few riders that he tolerated with a modicum of affection, albeit bizarre affection. The main house loomed above her and she was surprised when she realised how deep in thought she had been. A small party of mounted Spartiates came out to greet her. It was still a strange sight, the main house. A veritable walled town, it was constructed as a perfect hexagon with three gates withbridges that extended across a deep gorge that surrounded it, and to cap it off, it was situated at the top of small but steep sloped hill. Quite the medieval stronghold. Even though she was part of the family, she still behaved as a visitor, by stopping before the bridge and waiting for her escort to arrive. It really was not necessary, but out of respect for her grandmother and sheet habit, she waited for Lieutenant il-Rahim and his small squad to cross.
“My Lady Mnemosynem,” he smiled and tipped his head, “Good afternoon to you. We were informed of your impending visit but did not expect you until five o’clock.”
“Please Yosef, call my Synner, I would feel much more comfortable if you did,” she replied, grinning to her old sparring partner, “And I arrived early to visit my cousin-sons and daughters as well, not just to humour Grandmother.”
Il-Rahim laughed lightly, “I’m sure she’d have words if you voiced such sentiments in her presence. I daresay she’s already heard. And we must always be on form, as servant and served.”
Her eyes widened at the last comment, il-Rahim’s grin growing, “Servant?! One would have thought you do amply well purely serving yourselves without needing us as masters. And I’m sure Grandmother does her fair share to get underfoot.”
The Spartiate laughed again, and the others smirked as well, since it was a well known fact that Verity had, in her advancing years, become quite a busybody concerning the efficient running of her demesne. This had especially become the case when much of their scientific research started to be conducted within the estate grounds. The main house held four laboratory complexes that many senior Readers and Masters used with their research groups, most notable Verity’s seven children. Mnemosyne did not really take issue with that, but found that the main house had become merely an extension of the Arena University, ironically, to prevent it from losing its initial function, as a home for her family. Had it remained as just the abode of the head of the family, it would have become quite a feudal affair, one that Verity wished to avoid.
Il-Rahim and Mnemosyne passed through the gates and they clanged shut behind them. The lieutenant nodded politely and rode down the corridor towards the barracks. The young woman dismounted and led her horse to the gatehouse stables, where she removed his saddle and let him settle for a few minutes. She proceeded to the upper common rooms to refresh herself. It being a Friday, the denizens of the main house were all at school, but would most likely return momentarily. She prepared herself a cup of tea and pulled a book from one of the stacks of shelves and sat down, having draped her cloak over the back of a chair opposite her. Mnemosyne was grateful that the main house possessed one of the very few collections of paper and binding books left in the world. She found them so much more gratifying than the digital books. It may have been odd, but the musty smell of paper comforted her. That was hardly a surprise, though, since most of her family was like that as well. But, she only managed to read a few pages when she heard the clacking of horses’ hooves down below her. Some of her cousins and cousin-sons and daughters had returned. For all their ‘civilised’ chatter, they were quite a raucous collection of restless youths, and she just had to smile as she listened to their conversation as they came up the stairs towards the common room. This particular part of the ‘house’ was a large hall which was completely open, so despite their attempts at low voices, she heard every word (and not just physically). When they entered the common room, their acknowledged their cousin, but were no less boisterous.
“Ah Synner!” Kaerezh cried as he, along with several of the others, removed his mask and gorget, “What brings you here?”
“None of your business, cousin-son!” she laughed back as she stood up, before taking a quick step forwards to cuff him, and for once it connected.
Surprised, everyone laughed, including Kaerezh. And for a while, they lounged around, talking about the day at school. They were a little in awe of Mnemosyne, who was twenty-four and already a Grandmaster, though they were well on their way there, more like than not. Kaerezh was close to completing his undergraduate degree and he was barely fifteen, making him close to becoming a Fellow already. In five or six years time, he too would gain the Ascendancy and no-one would think anything of it on the outside, considering the family name. While it was essentially a given that members of the family obtained a good first degree by the age of seventeen and then a doctorate by twenty, the way that they were raised made sure that they knew just how much of an achievement this was, and there was genuinely no shame in not attaining this very high level of intellect, which even other Brakaans considered freakish. Thinking on it, Mnemosyne’s own father, Erebos, did not obtain his doctorate until he was thirty, much preferring his time in the army, and yet he was no less intelligent and articulate than his siblings.
She quickly shook her head. If there was one thing wrong with her, she liked contemplating a little too much. And just to stress that point, she thought on that little aspect of herself, and grinned at the irony. She was saved from herself when an attendant arrived and announced that dinner would be ready within half an hour. Mnemosyne picked her cloak up and made her way towards the centre of the main house, which was some walk away, while the others quickly made themselves scarce (clambering up the walls and scrambling on the ceiling on their way out), presumably to change their clothes.
Dinner was a calm affair and some one and a half hours later, Verity was seated with her husband, Viersce, her granddaughter and il-Rahim, the four if them idly chatting away. The other family members, including Mnemosyne’s parents, aunts and uncles, were doing likewise away from the tables with other officers of the Garrison. Some time into a long and sedate discussion about medical research, Verity stood and turned to Mnemosyne.
“I would have a word with you in private, child,” she said.
The young woman knew this was coming and nodded, standing as well.
“Yes, Grandmother.”
Viersce touched his wife on the hand as she replaced her chair and she returned the gesture. Their relationship was clear to see, though it should have been since they had been happily married for almost a hundred and twenty years. Mnemosyne followed her out, past her mother, Hel, who nodded imperceptibly to her. It was still light outside as Mnemosyne ascended the stairs to the tower battlements. Verity followed, putting her gorget on as she glided up the stairs. Regardless of her age, the young woman had to admire the grace and elegance of her grandmother, though to be fair, she looked barely out of her fourth decade. From the main body of the gorget, crafted plates slid covering first her chin, then her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and finally her entire face, until not a bit of her white skin could be seen. Her ears were covered as well, as her neck and temples. Unlike her grandmother’s masks, Verity’s were simple and sedate affairs, her current one merely being a shimmering harlequin mask. She nodded to her granddaughter and Mnemosyne triggered the mechanism that opened the trapdoor to the top of the tower. Unlike most of her female relatives of the direct line (and some of the males as well), Mnemosyne did not possess the ‘Sun’s Curse’ as it was called within the family (which was a very aggressive form of erthyopoietic protoporphyria, which, when exacerbated by their one rather erratic feature of their healing ability, made it an excruciating condition). Out of the twenty-three women (and girls) of the direct line, only two could tolerate the touch of sunlight on their skin. Mnemosyne was glad she was one of those two. The other was her tempestuous cousin, Ariadne, who definitely took after Alecksiiz I in terms of sheer brutality. Once again, Mnemosyne considered her contemplation, as Verity turned to her.
“I suppose you know why I wish to speak to you, my dear,” she started, raising a hand to stop her granddaughter from replying, “No, you need not say anything yet. Come, walk.”
And they walked along, slowly, comfortable in the evening breeze.
“You have a great gift, child, as do we all, as you might well say, but yours is special. The Overmind knows it and recognises it as being greater than they have ever seen, and the Black Council wish for you to meet with them. Your cousin-son Karyos may be with them, but even he knows that he is but a whisper next to you. And I have not felt such strength in anyone since my father died, and I was still within the womb when that occurred. Both of your great-great-grandfathers through me had such power, and I am glad that one of my grandchildren has come to inherit it. I wished for one of my own children to break the mould, but I think I told them a little too much about my father and the great Unifier, that they had no ambition but to become Prince or Princess like me. I thought Koré would leave the family first, but I had to wait a long time.
“As you can now imagine, I will not express disapproval for your desire to leave us and join the Temple, regardless of what anyone else may say.”
“I’m sorry, Grandmother, but I think even Father does not know.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” Verity laughed, not unkindly, “I think all you children give your parents less credit than they deserve. He knew about it when you were born, dear Synner. The first word he said to me after your birth was ‘ghost’, with a bemused look on his face. Your parents knew it was merely a matter of time before you realised just how strong your mind was. Why do you think we sent you off to your fifth-cousin’s every so often?! He moulded your mind ever so slightly to free your mind, and you are free. And I think you knew he did it.”
Mnemosyne smiled.
“Now, do not give me any sob story about coming back to visit whenever you can, because we know you won’t! You will have a new family, just as surely as you have a family now, and you will have things to do and things to learn. And when you’re too tired to come to us, we’ll come a-knocking. Once you are part of the Overmind of this family, you do not leave. You still speak to your cousin-son, don’t you?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Exactly, he is still part of us, as will you be.”
It was finally dark and Verity’s mask lowered, slowly revealing her face. She looked sad to Mnemosyne.
“I never like seeing one of the family leave me, but it is your choice and I will not stop you. Now, come, let us spend this evening together, for tomorrow, you will defect.”
“Defect? What kind of description is that, Grandmother?”
Verity laughed again, thoroughly amused.
“When your cousin-son left us, so surprised was he that none of us expressed censure, that he termed his departure as a ‘defection’, if only to make it seem more shocking to those outside these walls. And now we will do for you what we did for him.”
They reached the hall, and Mnemosyne knew what she was going to see and she covered her face in embarrassment. Verity opened the door and everyone from the direct line was there, seated in a massive horseshoe facing the door. But, before the soon-to-be-Ghost were all of them, in their Ghostly forms: hair flowing; incorporeal bodies; features accented; skin shimmering; and a smile on each face. She turned to her grandmother, who was seated and had joined her family on the Plane.
“It took a bit of arm twisting, but Karyos managed to keep you distracted long enough.”
Her father approached and hugged her, drawing her onto the Plane with him, “Congratulations, daughter mine.”
Approx. 3160
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