Chapter 12

TWELVE

Ellion sat on the edge of his bed in his private quarters, next to Turi’s room. He took pains to come and go when he knew she wasn’t there, or fly in on his balcony. It was exhausting and miserable to know she was so close, yet to not be able to touch her, see her.

However, his problems extended beyond the magnetic pull of the Terian female who occupied his thoughts. His fingers worked deftly with the needle and thread, stitching up the long, ragged tear in his wing membrane. The latest confrontation with the Hecrons had been unpleasant. They were getting bolder, inching closer to the settlements, and harder to negotiate with. It was his duty to keep them at bay, as the inmates had no weapons to defend themselves with. He’d need to think more creatively and find some way to compromise, or risk a massacre of the settlements and a lot more scars.

The pain from the wound was a dull throb, a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond the fortress walls. He looked up sharply at the rustling of movement and upset female voices outside his room. The door slid open and Turi burst in. Her blue hair wild and her face flushed with anger and determination as she clutched a book in her arms. Ara was right behind her. The Skrac’s shadowy form flickered and frayed around the edges with agitation as she tried to calm the upset Terian.

“Turi, wait! He’s injured—he needs rest!” Ara’s voice was urgent, but Turi was beyond listening.

Ellion’s heart leaped in his chest at the sight of her. It had been five days since he’d last seen her—five days of patrolling the borders, of fending off Hecrons, of worrying about her and missing her with an intensity that shocked him. The relief and desire that washed over him were almost overwhelming, but he kept his expression neutral, not wanting to betray his feelings of joy at seeing her. Especially now, since it was obvious that Turi was not here for a friendly visit. Her entrance was a storm, and she held in her hands an old, metal-bound book. He had never seen her angry before, and the full display of her temper was a magnificent sight. It was, unfortunately, directed straight at him.

“I don’t care,” Turi shot back at Ara, even as her gaze locked on Ellion. “I need answers and I need them now.”

Ellion broke off the thread and set the needle and thread aside, wincing slightly as he flexed his injured wing. He’d finish sewing up the tear later. “Turi, what’s wrong?”

Turi strode toward him. “I found this ,” she declared, brandishing the book as if it were a weapon. Her voice trembled with fury and betrayal. “Why did you lie to me, Overseer?”

Ellion frowned. “What lies are you referring to?”

“Don’t play with me, Overseer .” Turi’s voice trembled with anger as she thrust the book toward him. “This…this is a record of the Terian settlements. Of us being prisoners in a penal colony. Of you being an overseer for many centuries.” Her eyes shot emerald shards. “ You wrote this journal. Don’t deny it.”

Ellion took the journal from her, his fingers brushing against the cool metal. He opened the old book. It creaked at the treatment as he scanned the pages. The pages within were filled with entries written in his own precise handwriting, spanning years he didn’t remember living. The weight of the past settled heavily upon him, like a chain of forgotten memories. It was strange to skim entries that looked identical in style and format to the ones he made now, each month, in his current journal. But these were too old to be his. He’d only been the overseer for a little over a century. He might recognize the meticulous records, the clinical descriptions of life in the settlements, but he had no memory of writing them.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. “Where did you find it?”

Turi’s eyes, bright with unshed tears, narrowed in disbelief. “It was hidden in the library behind some other books. Ellion, your name is right there on the first page. This is your handwriting, your words, documenting centuries of Terian suffering and control. How can you deny it?”

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air growing thick with the gravity of her discovery. Ellion’s mind raced, grappling with the implications of the journal’s existence. How could he have lived for so long, yet remember so little? “I am not lying, Turi,” he insisted, his voice a low rumble. “I do not remember writing this.”

“Ellion, this journal—it’s very old.” Turi took a deep breath and rubbed her temples. “Could it be that you’ve forgotten?”

Ellion looked up at her, his mind racing. “Forgotten? How could I forget something like this? How could I forget six hundred years of my life ?”

Turi’s expression softened slightly, but her voice was still firm. “I don’t know, Ellion. But if this is true—if you’ve really been the overseer for all these centuries, then everything we thought we knew about the Axis, about the settlements and about you, is all a lie.”

Ara moved closer. Her form took on her Terian-like shape. “Ellion, I think there are a few things you need to tell Turi, now that she knows.”

“Tell me what?” Turi’s expression hardened again. “Some of what’s in this journal is true, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Ellion rubbed a hand over his face as weary despair washed over him. He sat on the edge of his bed as possibilities about the origins of the journal sank in. The terrible chance that he might have been an unwitting pawn in the Axis’ cruel game for far longer than he could remember was almost too much to bear. As he looked into Turi’s eyes, he knew the time for secrets was over.

“Very well, Turi,” he said, meeting her accusatory gaze straight on. “No more secrets. Ask questions. I will answer them.”

“ Honestly? ” she pressed.

“Yes, if I can.” He placed the journal beside him with distaste. “I honestly don’t recall writing this journal, although it is clearly mine.”

She crossed her arms. “Is it true that the Terians are prisoners and this planet is a penal colony?”

He nodded. “The Terians are prisoners, but only the settlements are the penal colony. The Axis seized the land your people farm as their location to incarcerate you, which infuriated the Hecrons. That land was once theirs.”

She let out a little cry. “Prisoners…”

“Unfortunately, yes. Your people are prisoners.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I hope you see why I was hesitant to tell you right away.”

She held up a hand. “We were taken from our planet by the Axis. And you just…took the job of keeping us in line.”

“No, I—I don’t remember that.” Pain pulsed in his skull, radiating from the metal implant. He gestured to the space beside him on the bed. “Please, sit down. Let’s talk this through.”

Turi hesitated for a moment before relenting and taking a seat next to him. The anger that had fueled her appeared as if it were beginning to ebb away. She glanced at the journal that lay between them. It was a tangible reminder of the secrets and lies that had come to light.

“I don’t understand, Ellion.” Her voice was softer. “This journal is clearly yours, but that would make you…nearly six hundred years old?”

Ellion picked up the journal and flipped through the pages again, his gaze lingering on the dates and entries that chronicled centuries of Terian history. “It appears this journal was written by me,” he admitted, “but I can’t fathom how I could have lived for so long without any memory of it. The Axis… They have ways of manipulating time, of altering memories. It’s possible that they did something to me, that they made me forget.”

Turi’s eyes widened at the implications of his words. “The Axis can do that? But why? Why would they make you forget your own past?”

Ellion shook his head, his expression grim. “I don’t know, Turi. But I intend to find out. The Axis have controlled us for far too long. It’s time we started asking questions and demanding answers.”

Ara, who had been silent up until now, moved closer to the bed. “Ellion, there’s something you need to know. The Skrac have known about the Axis’ true nature and the source of their power for a long time.”

Both Ellion and Turi turned to look at her. “What do you know?” Ellion asked, his voice rough-edged.

Ara’s form flickered as she gathered her thoughts. “The Axis are not just a group of powerful beings. They are embodiments of an ancient force that predates the Skrac and many other species in the galaxy. They have been the oppressors of the galaxy for eons, creating a massive syndicate that controls the incarceration of entire species…for profit, I might add. They are feared by all, including the Skrac. The Axis have learned to manipulate time, space, and the minds of others.”

Ellion’s gaze sharpened on Ara as the horror of her words sank in. “Why have you never told me this before?”

Ara’s form wavered as she looked away. “How? Twice they erased your memories. Each time you were returned to this fortress a shell of yourself—I saw it for myself. Skrac live impossibly long lives.” She straightened her shadowy Terian-like form. “I’m over a thousand years old myself, and I remember what it was like before the Axis took huge swaths of land and turned it into a penal colony. I remember you , Ellion, when you were first put here.”

“Put here?” He could barely get the words out.

“Yes. Put here. Ellion, you are not just a Zaruxian. You were raised by the Axis—and before you ask, no . I don’t know how you came to be in the custody of the Axis. All I know is that they did indeed put you here as the overseer. You didn’t question your role at first, but over time you did. After your first rebellion against them, they took you away and you returned with that metal plate in your head and no memories. You sat in a corner and drooled for two years.” Her voice went hard. “It took over a century for you to begin to resemble the Ellion I knew, and then, they did it again. I thought I’d never get you back this time. It was only when you put a mark of protection on the door of a female who showed mercy to a cibrat that I knew the true you was reemerging.” If Ara was capable of showing a smile, she’d be doing that now. “The Axis have spies everywhere, probably even among my own kind. But now that you’ve found this journal, it’s time you learned the truth about yourself and your role in their grand design.”

“The truth…” Ellion choked on the words. This was not the “truth” he’d expected to hear. It was not the history he’d ever imagined for himself. “There is no way I’m six hundred years old.”

“Zaruxians can live for millennia,” Ara said, turning to Turi. “Terians used to have significantly longer life spans, too, before the Axis took them from their native land and the healing plants that allowed them to thrive. This is why it takes you decades to reach maturity.”

Turi let out a half gasp, half strangle. “All this time, I thought this was our home planet. Fek , I can’t believe we were taught—or forced—to worship the very entity that imprisoned and tortured us…”

“That is how the Axis work,” Ara said. “Someone paid a great sum of credits to have this done to your people, and the Axis always hold up their end of a contract.”

Ellion dropped his head into his hands. “I am no different from the Terians, then. My origin story is likely no less bleak and filled with pain.”

“It explains why they have been so careful to keep you under their thumb,” Ara said gently. “Uncovering your past will not be easy. Or without a cost.”

But what cost, Ellion wondered? Would he lose his mind once again in this quest, or worse, lose Turi? He rapped a fist on the journal. “This only covers about two hundred years. There must be more.”

“There is another one,” Ara said. “It documents the time between the last entry in that journal and the beginning of the one you currently write in. That journal may help show what led up to causing your memories to be suppressed, and how the Axis have maintained control over the Terians for so long.”

Ellion rose to his feet, his wings unfurling with a snap, despite the pain of his wound. “Where is this other journal? I need to see it.”

Ara shook her head. “ You hid it, Ellion. I don’t know where it is.”

Ellion sat back down on the bed, the weight of this revelation pressing down on him. “All these years, I believed I was serving a just cause, maintaining order among the Terians. But it was all a lie. I was nothing more than a puppet, dancing to the Axis’ tune.”

Turi moved closer, her hand slipping into his. “But you’re not that any longer. You can fight back.”

He looked at her, into green eyes so hopeful it made his heart hurt. “Until they take me and wipe my mind again. I don’t think your people can survive another few centuries of suffering until I remember who I am.”

Her gaze hardened to green shards. “Then we must make sure they don’t take you.”