2. Ceara

It was her!

It was actually her!

How was this possible?

Had the Supervisor somehow seen my Distant Vision?

Did the Machine give him the ability to see into my mind?

But no, I knew that was impossible.

If he could see into my mind and my Visions of the future, there would have been no need to torture me.

However unlikely it seemed, however bizarre, the female was here because Fate had sent her to me.

I had seen her on countless occasions — never in the flesh, only in my Visions.

My life was much like anybody else's, living from one moment to another…

With one small exception.

I could see ten seconds into the future and foresee every possible eventuality.

To those on the outside, it would have looked like I was simply making decisions in my life the same way they were.

Except I knew what would happen next with any decision I made.

There was no uncertainty for me — at least, not within the next ten seconds.

At least, that was what I was capable of if I hadn't blocked the ability with drugs and alcohol.

Sometimes seeing the future was as painful as recalling the past.

The one Vision I had seen that stretched beyond that short ten-second gap in time involved the female.

The cell door had opened and something had shuffled inside before the guard locked the door again.

At first, I hadn't even noticed her enter.

But as I heard the shuffling of feet, I realized there was another person in the room.

This was new.

And new things were not something to be celebrated at Ikmal.

I figured it was just another of the Supervisor's plans to get me to reveal what I saw in his Machine.

The truth was, I saw nothing in it — I blocked it out and refused to see the Visions he tried to make me see.

A series of images flashed across the holo-display, images designed to stimulate my ability and project it further into the future.

The Supervisor seemed to think this machine enhanced my ability, but so far, he had only been met with disappointment.

I didn't know if the machine truly worked or not — I never allowed it to.

I could not be made to see Visions when I did not wish to see them.

But the Supervisor, believing I was only holding back, tortured me, injecting me with chemicals to make me tell him what I had seen.

Each time, I told him I had seen nothing — which was actually the truth.

No matter what chemicals he injected into me, I would only ever tell him the truth.

The small shuffling figure was not a fellow Blinker — I would have been shocked if she had been as I was the last of my kind.

The rest of my species had been wiped out by those seeking to take advantage of our ability to see into the future.

In doing so, they had achieved the only predictable outcome.

Since then, I had lived a half-life, shuffling from one planet to another, performing party tricks just good enough to not pique anyone's interest but not so good it might make me hit the big time.

To do so would have put me on someone's radar and it wouldn't be long before they honed in on me, asking questions to figure out how I did what I did.

Then I would have to disappear, only this time, with a face known far and wide.

I earned enough to survive, to get by and afford whatever substances I needed to quell the dull ache of the distant past.

A side effect was the dulling of my ability to see the future.

That was how they had caught me and how I had ended up here at Ikmal.

I glanced over at the figure as she shuffled towards the edge of light and still I had not recognized her for who she was.

She looked on the verge of gathering up enough courage to cross into the darkness of my cell, disturbing my peace even more than she already had.

I growled and rolled from my cot.

At my movement, the female froze, her foot floating above the ground.

She stared up into the darkness, attempting to make me out, but I knew the darkness was pervasive — it was the reason I had removed the bulbs in the first place.

The darkness was soothing to me.

In the black, I saw only dim Visions… for the most part, anyway.

I stood before her and appraised her soft skin, the tangle of her wild, wavy brown hair and the white uniform they had dressed her in.

I threatened her, assuming she was some part of the Supervisor's plan.

But I would not fall for it.

When she finally looked up, her eyes still scrambling at the dark, although she appeared to have locked onto something — by the set of her eyes, I thought it must be my horns — and knew my face and therefore my eyes had to be a little below them.

She didn't look me in the eye but I peered deeply into hers.

They matched her hair color and were flecked with strands of yellow.

Quite beautiful.

Her skin was smooth, her cheekbones high and prominent.

Her eyes were wide and she had a distinctive set to her mouth that was very pleasing.

In another time and place, I might have seduced her with a trick, taken her to my bed and rode her all night.

But the Supervisor had sent her and he never did anything without just cause.

Then I saw her face in its entirety.

I choked on my words, grateful the shadows concealed me so fully.

She was the female from my Vision!

There was no doubt of that now!

And here she stood, real and in the flesh, in my cell!

My Visions only showed the potential of what could happen in the future.

I could simply see the steps required to achieve a given outcome.

That was all any of us ever really needed:

To achieve our greatest dreams in life, we merely had to take the right steps at the right time.

Play the perfect moves and any game could be won.

Those most successful in life were those who could see those moves or at least sense them.

I had assumed the Distant Vision I had seen since my earliest days would no longer come true after I had been caught and sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment in this hellhole.

But here she stood, the beacon and light of my life.

The one thing that gave any indication that a different future was possible, where I would not have to be incarcerated in this place.

Of all the locations I could have found her, where she could have appeared, why did it have to be this place?

It was difficult to turn around and leave her standing there after she had put her foot back down in the light.

She should not come anywhere near me, I knew.

She should remain in the light and I in the dark.

Perhaps if I ignored her she would go away, the future we were destined to share would fade away too.

I returned to my cot and lay down facing the wall.

Although sleep beckoned, for once, I could not bring myself to succumb to it.

Not with her in the cell.

I peered over my shoulder in her direction and saw her laying in the same position I was, folded up and facing the wall.

And still, that question kept repeating itself:

How could it be her?

Was I mistaken?

Had I only thought she had the appearance of my fated mate?

And that was what we were, wasn't it?

That was what our ancient texts told us:

That the one you saw in the Distant Vision was the one you would love for the rest of your life.

The Distant Vision came to me again.

It was always the same.

The female was curled up in my lap while I lay back on a wooden chair.

We lounged on the coast of some distant and unknown planet, watching as the twin suns set — one yellow, one red — on the horizon.

Soft waves lapped at our feet in gentle strokes as if the sea were breathing.

I held her, clutching her tight while her fingers played over the hairs of my forearm.

I had seen the vision so many times I could recall every last element of it:

The curve of her cheek, the smile that played across her lips as she looked up at me, her hand resting on her belly.

I luxuriated in the unknown alien feeling of complete and utter bliss and happiness.

That scene had kept me going for many years.

No matter how dark my days had become, no matter what state I was in, it was always there.

The curiosity of it one day coming true, of one day finding her and enjoying her like that…

Of feeling that emotion for real rather than via the stranger in my Vision…

And yes, I was a stranger to myself in that scene.

It showed a version of me I thought I would never see, a version that had never existed.

I sniffed, attempting to breathe in the female's scent from across the room.

I should have breathed her in earlier to validate my suspicions but had been so shocked at her presence that it had not occurred to me.

I was not going to get another wink of sleep until I knew for certain, so I got up from my cot and crept across the darkness.

It had already shortened as the prison's lighting system flicked on, the morning routine already kicking into gear.

I gingerly stepped into the light and crossed to her.

She was still sleeping and lay on her back with her arm above her head.

She could have been another female, I thought, possessing only a passing resemblance to the female in my Distant Vision.

The galaxy was a big place and there would be countless females who—

Then she turned over and I saw the exact same profile as in my Vision:

The smooth curve of her cheek, the high cheekbones.

All that was missing was the smile of immense happiness on her face and her glittering eyes as she peered back at me.

I breathed her in without thinking, and she filled my nostrils.

I stumbled back, knowing I would recognize her scent anywhere.

She was the female from my Vision!

There was no doubt of that now!

The only question was, what happened next?

It was a question I had always been able to answer with my unique ability, but now I was at a loss.

I didn't know how things would pan out, if that Distant Vision would really take shape or not.

And that uncertainty, more than anything, terrified me.

I turned back to my cot and fell onto it.

I would need to be careful, I knew.

This could all be part of the Supervisor's plot to ensnare me and use my ability for his own purposes.

And yet, I couldn't help but feel a connection with the female.

Yes, I thought. I was going to have to be careful indeed.

Very careful.

* * *

The cell door shuddered open,filling my dim quarters with the harsh light from the corridor.

My sense of smell was the first to react, overwhelmed by the sterile aroma of the prison that permeated everything.

Even after all this time, I hadn't gotten used to it.

It was too clean, too artificial — void of the organic muskiness of my homeworld.

As predictable as ever, the guards stood there in their shiny armor, their eyes glinting with an unspoken expectation.

They wanted me standing at attention, as obedient as a well-trained pet.

But defiance was all I had left.

I held on to it, stubbornly refusing to grant them their wish.

The cold, metal bed beneath me vibrated slightly with the mechanical hum of the prison, a constant reminder of my surroundings.

My bare feet touched the chilled floor, contrasting sharply with the residual warmth of the bed.

I could hear their impatient grunts, the shuffling of armored feet on the metallic surface, a clear indication of their growing annoyance.

Yet, I remained still, savoring their growing frustration, each moment a tiny victory.

"Get up!"

The guard's command cut through the air, harsh and demanding.

I recognized the voice — it belonged to one of the regulars, a gruff, relentless brute who seemed to take great pleasure in his job.

Yet, I continued my silent rebellion.

Their patience finally wore thin, and the guards advanced.

The first blow was hard, hitting me square in the ribs.

The sharp pang of pain was expected, and I welcomed it, letting it ground me in my purpose.

The strikes continued, each one more forceful than the last.

My senses amplified the experience — metallic blood, the acrid smell of my sweat, the throbbing pain singing through my nerves, the grating sound of the guard's armor against the cold floor, and the harsh white light that threatened to blind me.

And with each assault, my defiance grew stronger.

Finally, when they seemed satisfied with my apparent submission, I pushed myself up, my movements slow and deliberate.

I couldn't help the smirk that crept onto my lips.

My small victory in our game of defiance.

It was only when you admitted defeat in this place that you were truly lost.

As they marched me out of the room, my gaze found Ellie.

She was on the floor, looking up at me with wide, fearful eyes.

Something in her gaze tugged at my heart, a feeling that I couldn't quite place.

For a moment, my smirk disappeared, replaced by a sense of regret.

She didn't belong here in this dreadful moon prison.

She was a healer, with a spirit that somehow remained unbroken.

She deserved better than this.

But then, we all did in our own way.

As the cell door closed behind me, I stole one last look at Ellie.

In her, I saw a glimmer of hope, a spark that could perhaps ignite a change.

The guards shoved me forward and I stumbled down the walkway.

* * *

The guards usheredme into a circular room, the metallic floor clanging beneath my heavy steps.

It was a cold, harsh echo that seemed to reverberate throughout the starkly illuminated space, echoing back at me like some cruel taunt.

At the center stood the machine — a monolith of dread that filled me with a deep-seated fear.

Every part of my being revolted against its sight.

Its appearance was unassuming, yet its purpose was terrifying — glimpses of the future.

Its cold metal surface glinted ominously under the harsh lights, reflecting my distorted figure back at me.

The Supervisor stood by it, a smug expression plastered on his face.

He was a large creature, with thick, splotchy skin that reminded me of the night sky back home — mottled with odd shades of black and blue.

"Will we be enjoying your cooperation today, Ceara?" he asked, his voice resonating with a cold satisfaction that made my scales itch.

A bitter smile pulled at my lips. "I've always found silence more cooperative," I retorted, holding his gaze.

The sharp clatter of instruments drew my attention to the Scientist.

His real name was barely pronouncable in my tongue but it was better to think of him as the Scientist — a moniker every bit as sterile as he was himself.

He was an alien of an odd sort.

He was thin, with an elongated body and limbs.

His skin was a peculiar shade of green, and his eyes were hidden behind round, goggle-like glasses, which magnified his sharp, blue eyes to an almost comical size.

His mouth, a jagged line of sharp teeth, curled into a smirk as he prepared the injection.

His touch was cold, and his sharp teeth were bared in an unkind smile as he pressed the serum into my arm.

A burning sensation raced through my veins, making my head spin.

The room began to blur at the edges, and my senses heightened.

I could hear the faintest hum of the machine, the distant clanging of the guards' armor, and even the quiet whispers of the Supervisor and the Scientist.

The guards roughly pushed me into the chair, their cold, metal hands digging into my skin.

The tight straps cut into my scales, a harsh reminder of my current predicament.

As they taped my eyelids open, the room became a blur of lights, the colors more vibrant than they had any right to be.

I could see the large holo-screen in front of me, a glowing canvas of symbols and images.

It was known as the Orb and was a tool to aid them in seeing what I could See.

My Visions.

All stripped bare for them to peruse and judge.

One by one, they left the room, leaving me alone with the hum of the machine.

I could see them through the observation window, donning their goggles as they prepared to dive into my mind.

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

My heart pounded in my chest, the steady rhythm a solemn drumroll for the upcoming invasion.

The machine whirred to life, its sound growing louder until it filled the room.

The chair started to spin, first slowly, then faster, the world blurring around me.

The sharp smell of ozone filled my nostrils as the machine worked, making my eyes water and my throat tighten.

My heart pounded in my chest like a wild beast trying to escape, each thud echoing through my veins.

I clung to the armrests, my fingers aching from the tight grip.

But I held on, refusing to let the fear show on my face.

The last thing they'd see was my defiance, and the last thing they'd hear would be my silence.

* * *

The world becamea dizzying whirlpool as the machine swung me around and around.

It was like being trapped in a monstrous maelstrom, lost in a sea of light and color.

The nausea rose in me, a familiar sensation that came with every spin.

My stomach churned, an unwelcome rhythm that pulsed through my body.

Flashes of images bombarded the holo-screen, a chaotic symphony of colors and movement.

Yet, none of it made sense.

They were blurry and unfocused, as unclear as the path that led me here.

Bile rose in my throat, sour and acrid.

I fought the urge to retch, the feeling only adding to the disorientation.

The Supervisor's voice echoed through the speaker system, sounding distant yet annoyingly persistent. "What do you see, Ceara?" he asked, his voice a monotonous drone over the whirring noise of the machine.

"Nothing," I spat.

I would have preferred to remain silent, but the truth serum was already coursing through my veins, bending my will.

The spinning grew more intense, the centrifugal force pressing me against the cold, metal chair.

"What do you see, Ceara?"

My senses were assaulted — my vision blurred, sounds becoming a cacophony of unrecognizable noises, sharp and acrid scents filling my nostrils.

"Nothing," I responded.

I needed an escape — a refuge.

So, I let my mind wander, regressing into the back of my consciousness.

I slipped past the chaos and the fear, delving deep into a memory hidden from the prying eyes of the Supervisor — a secret sanctuary I shared with Ellie.

"What do you see, Ceara?" the Supervisor demanded.

The Distant Vision, I called it.

It was our future, a possibility the universe dangled before my eyes — Ellie and me on a beach.

Sometimes the sand was purple, other times orange, but the details did not matter.

The waves lapped gently at our feet, her hand resting on her swollen belly.

Our child.

It was an image that brought with it a sense of calm, a soothing balm to the pandemonium of my current reality.

"N…Nothing," I managed, biting out the words between clenched teeth.

It was there, in our shared dream, that I took refuge.

The beach stretched out before me, its sand warm beneath my feet, the salty air filling my lungs.

Ellie's laughter echoed in my ears — a sound more comforting than any lullaby.

"What… do you… see… Ceara…?"

The Supervisor's voice started to fade away, drowned out by the sound of the ocean waves, the seagulls crying overhead, and Ellie's soft whispers.

The machine's relentless spinning seemed to slow down, the world around me turning into a blur of indistinguishable colors.

With each passing moment, I felt myself sinking deeper into the Distant Vision, the sounds and sensations of the prison fading away.

The reason the Supervisor couldn't see the Distant Vision was because it was a memory, not a Vision.

The memory hadn't happened yet, not to me in any case, but the universe weaved its patterns, forming our lives, and this was one that had just materialized.

Or maybe it was just a dream.

But how could that be when Ellie — the female in the Distant Vision I'd had since I was a child — was now in my cell?

The Supervisor couldn't know what she truly meant to me.

He just couldn't.

Could he?

I clung to Ellie's image, her smile providing the anchor I so desperately needed.

But even in this tranquility, the machine was relentless.

The spinning intensified, pushing the limits of my endurance.

I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, a frantic rhythm that fought to keep up with the machine's unending cycle.

The world spun faster and faster until it was a whirl of colors and light.

My senses overwhelmed, I felt consciousness slipping from my grasp, like sand through fingers.

As darkness started to cloud my vision, I reached out for Ellie, her image flickering like a candle in the wind.

"N… Nothing…" I managed to say, but in reality knew what was before my eyes was not nothing.

It was everything.

With a final, desperate grasp at her smiling face, I let myself surrender to the darkness.

The last thing I remember is the feel of the warm sand beneath my feet, and Ellie's laughter, echoing in the back of my mind.

* * *

The world was still spinningwhen the guards roughly threw me back into my cell.

The harsh impact against the cold, hard floor did nothing to dispel the disorientation.

My body felt heavy, as if I were dragging a thousand suns with each breath.

My muscles ached with an intensity that bordered on unbearable, every twitch sending spasms of pain radiating through my frame.

There was a figure moving towards me, a silhouette against the dim light seeping into the cell.

I could smell her before I saw her — the faint scent of lilacs and fresh rain, a scent so different from the sterile, metallic stink of the prison that it felt like an illusion.

"Ceara," Ellie's voice was soft, filled with concern.

I could barely register it, my senses still reeling from the experiment.

She reached out to me, her touch feather-light against my arm.

I recoiled instinctively, my muscles protesting the sudden movement.

My hands found purchase on the floor, the cold, rough surface a grounding anchor amid the disarray.

"No," I grumbled, shoving her away.

I didn't need her pity, her sympathy.

I had to do this on my own.

Especially when I wasn't sure if she was part of the Supervisor's plan or not.

With a grunt, I pushed myself up, my legs trembling under the strain.

Each step felt like a monumental effort, my limbs heavy and uncooperative.

I could taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth, a reminder of the injuries I had sustained.

I could feel the sting of fresh cuts and the throbbing pain of deeper wounds.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to the gnawing emptiness within.

I limped towards the bed, every step echoing in the hollow cell.

The mattress creaked under my weight as I collapsed onto it, my body crying out in relief at the slight comfort it offered.

Ellie hovered by me, her unease palpable.

I could hear her soft breaths, could feel her gaze on me — a mixture of concern and fear.

I turned my back on her, closing my eyes to shut out her pitying gaze.

Sleep was a far-off dream, yet exhaustion pulled at me.

I let myself sink into the mattress.

My mind slipped into the hazy state between wakefulness and sleep, a welcome respite from the sharp reality of my situation.

The sounds of the prison dimmed into a distant hum, the sharp clank of metal and hushed whispers a constant undercurrent beneath my thoughts.

Even as my senses started to fade, one image remained imprinted in my mind — the Distant Vision with Ellie.

It was my anchor, my refuge amid the turmoil.

As sleep slowly claimed me, it was her laughter I heard, her scent I smelled, and her touch I felt — a fleeting taste of a possible future in the harsh reality of the present.

* * *

Consciousness was a fickle companion.

One moment I was adrift in the darkness, and the next, I was floating in a world of my own making — the Distant Vision Ellie and I shared.

I was there again, on the beach with her.

The sand was warm beneath my feet, the sea breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean.

Ellie's laughter echoed in the wind, a delightful melody against the symphony of waves crashing against the shore.

She was radiant in the sunlight, her figure silhouetted against the sky, a hand resting protectively on her pregnant belly.

The joy was so palpable I could almost touch it, the sound of our shared laughter hanging in the air like music notes.

It was a moment of tranquility amid chaos, a haven amid the storm.

Just when I thought I could spend an eternity in that vision, a sharp sting yanked me back into reality.

I gasped, my body convulsing at the sudden intrusion of pain.

My eyes snapped open to the sight of Ellie pulling back a syringe, her face a mask of concentration.

My senses came roaring back — the harsh light stabbing at my eyes, the echoing clank of the prison walls — reality came crashing down like a tidal wave.

Anger surged within me, raw and potent. "What did you do?" I growled, my voice echoing through the stark cell.

I felt a rush of adrenaline, fueling the anger within me.

My body reacted instinctively, fueled by the perceived threat.

I lunged at her, my hands reaching for her before my mind could fully register my actions.

Yet, as swiftly as the rage came, it dissipated.

The sharp, biting pain was gone, replaced by a cool numbness that spread throughout my body.

A wave of drowsiness washed over me, a heavy blanket that threatened to pull me under.

With a sigh, I stumbled back onto the cot.

The room spun around me, the walls a blur of grays and whites.

My hands gripped the edge of the mattress, the rough texture grounding me amid the disarray.

Ellie's scent filled the room, her presence a beacon of comfort amidst the chaos.

I turned my back on her, retreating into the safe confines of my mind, where the pain was nothing more than a distant echo.

The vision of the beach returned, this time overlaid with the image of Ellie with a syringe, her face etched with determination.

I knew then, as the darkness began to claim me, that she was not only a part of my vision but also my reality — a part of the struggle, of the fight.

Sleep took me quickly, an escape from the sterile confines of my prison cell.

The last thing I registered was the faint hum of the prison's heartbeat, a rhythm that was quickly drowned out by the gentle lull of waves from the Distant Vision.