CHAPTER SEVENTEEN◄CHAPTER EIGHTEEN►CHAPTER NINETEEN

Jophia had been keeping an eye out for Talitha all throughout the Temple of Rays during her time there, but in the sea of faces there she’d been unable to come across any that matched her resemblance. One set of familiar faces that she hadn’t anticipated seeing again so soon, considering she’d thought they’d be preoccupied with important government affairs, were Doctor Daloh and Yanat. As she stood in the colonnade courtyard munching on the Zuthari meat stew that had been specially cooked by the monks in the kitchen, she caught sight of the two walking forward speedily to meet her. One of the monks that had been in charge of processing entries into the temple was in tow behind them, carrying his data pad. Jophia waved to them both from afar, beckoning them forward.

“Jophia,” Doctor Daloh said as she returned her gesture, gingerly weaving through the crowd of Sivathi that filled the courtyard. “It’s good to see you once again.”

“And you, Doctor Daloh and Yanat,” Jophia bowed to them both, once again out of force of habit from having been in a servile nature. It would be a hard thing to shake. “I didn’t anticipate seeing you again so soon.”

“Nor did we,” Yanat said as they joined Jophia at the base of one of the colonnade pillars, painted in hieroglyphs that told more stories of the Sivathi’s legends. “But we’ve had to accelerate our plans owing to some developments in the Confederate Congress. We’ve brought with us Brother Rehu, whom we questioned earlier and believes he may have crossed paths with your friend, Talitha. He was in charge of receiving entries into the Temple of Rays.”

Jophia’s eyes suddenly lit up with merriment at the possibility that somebody had seen her friend, almost dropping the bowl of stew in excitement. She hadn’t thought that a lead would have been found so soon. “You found her?!” she exclaimed.

“We’re not certain, but Brother Rehu has come along to attest to the fact that he came across a girl named Talitha earlier bearing a golden coat of fur and coming from Zeshom Noor’s estate,” Yanat said, not quite showing the same degree of enthusiasm owing to his fear that he may very well be facing Talitha again soon enough. It would be like grappling with a titanic demon of a sin that he’d hidden away for twenty long years, and he wasn’t sure how it would go. “There can be little doubt about who else it may be.”

“It was odd to see a slave with the fur color of nobility,” Brother Rehu said, scrolling through his datapad with his stylus. “Though I didn’t think much of it in the hustle and bustle of my duty to process so many. I can see that she must be more important to you all than I would have first realized. The only reason I remember her name now in the countless numbers that I’ve helped was owing to her appearance.” In a short time, he’d filtered through and found Talitha’s information in the ledger. “She did indeed hail from Zeshom Noor’s estate, just as you did. She came through yesterday morning.”

“That must be her! It must be!” Jophia exclaimed, setting the bowl of stew down and stepping forward to place her handpaws on Yanat’s. “We have to go see her! You have no idea how much I owe her for saving me from Princess Aliya!”

Yanat patted her paws tenderly in reassurance. “That we shall, Jophia, that we shall,” he said, beckoning her to calm herself somewhat. “Indeed, we’ll need you to come with us to their quarters to confirm that it is her. If all checks out and her identity is the very same Talitha, there is much that we need to discuss with one another involving powers at play that none of us could begin to dream of comprehending.”

Brother Rehu did a quick few clicks of his stylus in order to transfer over the information about Talitha to Doctor Daloh’s datapad.

“We thank you for bearing with us, Brother Rehu,” Doctor Daloh said as she motioned for Jophia to come along with her and Yanat. “We know it is no small task to remember the countless souls that come through this place.”

“Well, the moment that you mentioned the golden fur certainly jogged my memory,” he said with a hearty laugh, knowing that that bearing witness to the sight of such a girl had to have stood out in a sea of so many others. “But I wish you the best in your endeavors. May the glory of the Zaket suns continue to bless the Confederacy of Liberation, friends.”

“And may they bless you, Brother,” Yanat said as he watched Brother Rehu depart.

“A-are we going now?” Jophia said, hobbling alongside Yanat and Doctor Daloh as they appeared to head towards the pyramid proper.

“Yes, Jophia, we are. We go to meet the child of Shiphra and answer all the questions she has long sought,” Yanat said somberly, knowing what was about to face him if the identity of the girl was that of the same Talitha. Part of him wanted to continue believing that the whole experience revolving around Shiphra and her daughter had just been a bad dream, and that his involvement in the Confederacy of Liberation had nothing to do with what he’d done to that poor girl at the Pillars of Purification. But no matter how hard he wished for it, he always found himself back in reality, where he was treading forward towards a reconciliation that only Zaket the Kindler and Zaket the Watcher could forgive him for. His eyes ascended the titanium frame of the alabaster pyramid, looking up at its apex that just barely touched the lights of the aurora.

“I beg your forgiveness, Shiphra,” Yanat whispered silently to himself as he clenched his fists, hoping that his heart could be washed clean like the whiteness of the temple’s stonework. “On this day, may you forgive me as I seek to right my wrong.”

*

Talitha and Elkanah had found themselves given temporary quarters on the fifth floor of the pyramid, high up enough that its window gave an impressive view of Sarat’s skyline. The absence of solar light from the polar winter had replaced itself with the flashing signage and lights of the brutalist styled buildings, yet the urban landscape was still calming and relaxing in its own right, like an ever evolving painting.

The tattered top and loincloth that had been the only things Talitha could ever come close to calling her own—aside from the now removed collar—had been done away with, and had she’d been graciously gifted a fresh set of simple clothes from the monks of the Temple of Rays. She continued gazing at herself in the mirror of the quarters, barely able to believe that it was actually her that she was looking at, clad in the sandy colored raycloth tunic—spun by the blessed fabrics produced there at the temple—and the baggier fitting crimsons pants that went with it, finished off with strapped sandals that wove over her footpaws. The monks had been generous enough to give her a pouched belt to store the starter’s purse of talir and crossbody pack to carry what few possessions she’d be taking with her in the coming months.

She kept tracing where she could feel the whip scars under the fabric. Even though hidden by the tunic, they would always be truly there. Yet, with the collar now gone and the rites of liberation now performed, they didn’t feel as invasive or visible. It was something that brought a smile to Elkanah’s heart as he stood at the other side of their quarters, looking out at Sarat’s skyline in wonderment, but looking back ever so often at Talitha. He, too, had given up his old uniform, all signs of his service to the Crown Army now eliminated as he’d dressed himself in attire more fitting of a civilian; a two-toned shirt and vest coupled with looser fitting trousers and boots encompassing the entirety of his footpaws. Try as he might, however, owing to his past military experiences and the way fate had driven them both thus far, he didn’t envision themselves remaining in such dress for too long, for perhaps a call to arms on their part was due sooner rather than later.

Nonetheless, both had put that aside for the time being. Elkanah and Talitha were finally at peace, even if it was to be temporary. A well deserved time alone where none were in pursuit of them was theirs to enjoy and bask in.

“I can’t begin to tell you how much I’m craving food and drink,” Talitha said, finally stepping away from the mirror and joining Elkanah at the window that looked up at the skyline. I don’t care what it is. Anything other than the gruel and stale bread that Zeshom Noor fed us with. As long as its sustenance made with love and care, not just something churned out to keep me alive for labor.”

“I passed the kitchens on the way up here to join you,” he said in response. “I could tell the monks were putting their very best efforts into what they were doing. The Temple of Rays really is all about caring for the Sivathi who were denied any luxury in life. I’m beyond impressed with the Confederacy for having such a place at the forefront of an effort.”

“We’ll go in a bit,” she said, stepping closer to Elkanah as she felt the intensity of their flight for freedom slowly ebbing away as the realization that their liberty was now reality. “I still want to stay here for a moment longer and take everything in; the fact that I’m free of that collar… That we’re free.”

Talitha heard her stomach growl as she stood alongside Elkanah, knowing that a proper meal had to be in order for them both soon. Even so, several things of great importance were on her mind that she wanted to discuss with her companion before anything else, especially now that they had a degree of privacy. Continuing to stand at his side, she turned her head in his direction, looking up to him. “Elkanah?” she asked quietly, his name spilling forth in the most open way she’d ever spoken it, now that she was no longer fleeing for her life or beholden to Zeshom Noor.

Elkanah quickly perked his ears at how different her voice called his name, turning his own head to face her gaze, their pupils locking. He didn’t answer straight away, not because he hadn’t heard her, but because like her, he wanted to bask in their newfound freedom; a freedom to pursue their dreams and to make Siva a truly better place, together. He wanted to do so, and more. So drilled in the manners of military life and of a strict upbringing, he’d seldom found himself capable of caring for somebody as intensely as he had now. He’d set off on his defection from the Crown Army meaning to atone for his sins, but now his investment was something far more. It was something—someone—that he wanted to protect and watch over.

Talitha also didn’t immediately pursue her questions, feeling herself taken in by the reassuring, gentle gaze that Elkanah naturally carried. His tender heart and iron will had taken her from the darkest depths to the first semblances of light. She owed him so much, and wanted to repay him tenfold. How she could even dream of starting to do so with nothing but the clothes on her back and the small starter’s purse, she did not know, but deep down something told her that the companionship and the journey they were undertaking with one another was repayment enough. Continuing to stare, losing herself in his soft white fur and the heroic outlines of his face, she thought back to their similar shared gaze outside Sarat when they’d joined the line for their entry papers. Of when his compassionate paws had healed her whipped back with the care of a surgeon, and of when he’d first reached out to her in the chains of Zeshom Noor’s yoke when he’d sought to free her. She still remembered when he’d brushed aside the golden locks that hid her weary face, revealing to her the first face in her life that hadn’t screamed an intent to harm or oppress her; even then, she’d recoiled.

Now, she did no such thing. She felt safe with Elkanah, and in her heart, the first pangs of affection and love seemed to creep upward. Was this what it felt like? Zeshom Noor and the overseers had made it abundantly clear that slaves like her were incapable of love, and disallowed from pursuing any such feelings. She’d believed it up until now.

But as they stood within the Temple of Rays, the world of Siva to themselves, she believed differently. Her sight left Elkanah’s face as it descended to his chest, and she finally didn’t hold herself back any further as she let the bridge of her muzzle fall forward into his sternum, reaching up and grasping at his shoulders as if holding on for dear life. She then closed her eyes, her golden irises that shimmered like the Zaket suns themselves hidden away as her eyelids descended and a little tear of happiness slipped down her cheek.

“Elkanah… Wh-what you said to me outside Sarat,” Talitha exhaled his name and then stammered, the magical bond she’d never known before descending upon her body like the sweetest honey. She felt all of her worries and hesitations melt away as she buried her face against him, feeling the safest she’d ever been. Neither the High King, Zeshom Noor, nor anybody else could reach her in this place. Not with Elkanah there. He’d made sure of it. “What you said, about whatever coming next being ours?”

Elkanah was taken aback, if only for a moment, though he reacted reciprocally and wrapped his arms around Talitha’s form as he rested his chin upon the crown of her head, sighing gently. He couldn’t deny the way he felt any longer, either. Not after all they’d been through with one another. For anybody else, the sheer impossibility of the journey they had been sent through would have ground them into the dust. Yet, they were still here together. As if the Zaket suns willed it. He squeezed ever so softly, embracing her in the moment. “This is next, Talitha,” he said deeply. “It is ours. Ours.”

The confirmation rang in Talitha’s ears like the most beautiful song. It was what she’d wanted to hear, yet uncertainties still remained. She turned her head slightly as her cheek then rested against him, listening to his heartbeat in time with her own. “I want to pursue the future with you,” she said, curling her fingers into his shoulders gently, adoring the build of his body that had protected her so many times already. “I don’t know what I will believe or what I will uncover. But I want to go after my fate with you. I only trust you, Elkanah.”

“We will,” Elkanah said, pulling her face away from his chest and clasping her cheeks softly between his handpaws, turning his gaze to meet hers. His muzzle floated only inches away from her own, and he could visibly see his paws quivering with fervor. “With how the Zaket suns have blessed us thus far, I think they’ll soon be lighting the way for the next clues to your real identity, just as they’ve lit the way for both of us to be here now. Back outside that little shop, I told you that you have a right to know your history. I still stand by making sure you find out. And I’ll do everything to make sure it comes to fruition, because I…”

He knew what he was going to say next, but he lost he lost it only a moment later Elkanah audibly heard Talitha’s breath leave her lungs in a rush of passion as she felt his handpaws on her back, tugging her closer. She remembered all the times Ratag had torn her back to shreds with the whip and mocked her for the appearance, or when Zeshom Noor had hit her there with a vengeful fist to make her cry out in pain. She had thought it was ugly. Elkanah did not care; his paws curled under her arms and to her shoulder blades, feeling past the scars of the whip and acknowledging her for what she was. A Sivathi. Not a slave. And their companionship was blossoming into something more.

“E-Elkanah… I— ” Talitha stammered once again, the embrace that would have once felt like a danger now stoking the fires of her heart like the forge that had set her free. She tried to breathe again and catch her breath, but she found her lungs flushed of their essence once again as Elkanah’s touch radiated like a shockwave over her.

Elkanah felt it too—the way her breath faltered and how her whole form pressed into his without fear for the first time since meeting her. He let go slightly to give her space and so as not to overstep himself, but his paws still warm and present. “Talitha,” he murmured softly, her name carried on a breath rather than a command. “Look at me.”

She did, slowly. Her eyes shimmered in the low glow of the city beyond the window, reflecting neon and aurora alike, twin lights caught in gold. There was no flinching now, no instinctive recoil. All semblances of the fear that she’d had in her life as a slave were gone. Now, it was only uncertainty—delicate, new, and precious.

“You saved me too, you know,” he said warmly, a smile spreading across his face, preparing once more to pull her closer. “Know that I’ve meant everything I’ve said thus far, and that I’ll walk this path with you until the very end. Because in pursuing the truth together, we’re doing more than just bettering ourselves. We better Siva and all the Sivathi. And if it is the will of the stars to see that we do so with my paw in yours…”

No sooner had he interlocked his fingers with Talitha’s, grasping her handpaw in his, an unexpected knock at the door suddenly erupted, snapping their heads in the direction of the entry to the room as their burgeoning moment was interrupted. They both stepped away, as if cautious of whoever might be on the other side would judge them for their sudden flare in affection. Though Elkanah rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment and a bright blush broke out over his cheeks, Talitha revealed herself to have the cooler head as she diffused the tension that had arisen, though nonetheless acknowledging it as very real and that its pursuit was not in vain. “Seems like the stars have to put it on hold for the time being, Elkanah,” she said with a teasing poke of a finger into his chest. “Though I won’t forget their plans. Nor yours.”

“R-right!” he said with a stifled giggle, boyishly kicking his footpaw back and forth as he strode over to the door to answer. He practically had to shake out the jittery sensations of joy that had suddenly washed over him, not wanting to appear disheveled to whoever was seeking an audience with them.

Quickly, so as not to keep those on the other side waiting, Elkanah straightened his shirt and patted it down a few times after having it misshapen in the escalation of passion before pulling aside the handle of the sliding door. It slowly receded into the wall, revealing their guests at the other side of the door.

“Elkanah Judara, I presume?” a well dressed, scholarly looking female Sivathi addressed him. Beside her stood an even taller blonde and white patched Sivathi, and a far shorter black furred female with a shorter, crippled leg.

“Yes?” Elkanah answered, but not before the shorter female had peered in through the doorway, practically bounding with excitement akin to that of a child. Her eyes suddenly went wide as if sparks had been set off inside them when she caught sight of Talitha, pushing past Elkanah and towards her inside the room.

“Talitha! Talitha, it’s you!” Jophia said as she hop-skipped as quickly as her shortened leg would allow her.

“Jophia! You’re alive! Suns be praised, you made it to Sarat! And you’re free, too!” the golden furred Sivathi shouted out in delight, seeing that her collar had also been taken way. Her heart—already elevated at her experience with Elkanah—jumped even further in joy at seeing her friend come forward that she’d thought lost in the fighting at Zeshom Noor’s estate.

Elkanah, shocked as he was at the sudden development of events, still did not hesitate to stand aside and let the other two inside their quarters, the taller male doing so in a somewhat more reserved manner as he looked on at Talitha in a graver way. Why he did so, Elkanah could not be sure, but a soft laugh of happiness escaped his lips as he soon put two and two together at realizing that this must have been one of Talitha’s acquaintances from Zeshom Noor’s estate, reunited at last.

Talitha felt the tears of joy renew themselves again as she threw her arms about her friend, embracing her tightly and not ever wanting to let go. Jophia clung to her with all her might, sobbing along with her at seeing her friend freed as well.

“Talitha,” Jophia began to say between rushed breaths between cries. “You don’t know how much I owe you my thanks for saving me from Princess Aliya’s wrath that day. I felt like my heart shattered when I didn’t see you in the aftermath of the battle that set us all free, but when I heard just earlier that a golden furred survivor from Zeshom Noor’s ownership was here, I knew that it had to be you. I just knew it!”

“Y-you heard?” Talitha said in confusion, not knowing that the other two Sivathi that had come with her had gone to great lengths to seek her out, and that one had a much more personal stake involved. “How? I only just got here!”

Pulling away from Talitha slightly, Jophia looked back through a tear stained expression at her two companions. “There’s… A lot to explain, Talitha,” she said, sniffling a bit.

“There is!” Elkanah said, scratching his head in confusion. He was sure of Jophia’s identity now, that much was certain. Who the other two were, he was itching to find out.

“My name is Doctor Ekta Daloh,” the female finally introduced herself, bowing slightly. “I stand in the quadrumvirate of the Confederate Congress for the middle classes. And this is Yanat Atagar, one of the congressional delegates.”

Yanat also bowed, but not before breathing in very deeply and then exhaling shakily as his eyes descended upon Talitha for the first time in twenty years. He felt as if he was shaking like a leaf, doing his best to steady his nerves. Everything about her seemed so familiar, yet so alien. She was no longer the defenseless infant that he had torn away from Shiphra’s arms and sold into slavery. Talitha was a grown Sivathi, hardened by a system that had oppressed her for two decades and robbed her of a heritage that should have rightfully been hers, and he had played his part in it all. Now, he had to face what he had done and come clean for good.

“It’s good to…” Yanat began to say, before his voice trailed off, clenching his fists as he lowered his head in shame.
Talitha felt herself take a few paces back at first, knowing that she didn’t recognize the man, but even so, something told her to recoil. It was almost like she knew his presence, even though she had no recollection of him. He spoke kindness and justice, but in the face of that, and to her especially, he exuded an aura of betrayal and deceit. Why he gave us such an atmosphere, she could not know, but deep down, perhaps she knew. She saw the way his eyes shimmered half like the cruel taskmasters and masters that had owned her before, and half in repentance for such crimes. She saw the muscular physique he carried that suggested his military heritage, likely as a member of the Crown owing to his fur color and the patched blonde markings of lower nobility or upper class atop his mostly white fur. He dwarfed even Elkanah for a military man. In all this, Talitha knew him, and at the same time did not.

Yanat shifted nervously, his now shaky looks betraying his outward toughness. As if to steady him some, Doctor Daloh placed a handpaw on his shoulder in comfort, beckoning for him to come forth with the truth. After a good fifteen seconds or so of unsteady silence, he sighed heavily before looking back up at Talitha once again, unclenching his palms in the process. “It’s good to see you after all this time,” he finally said. “You don’t know me, but I know you. I first met you when you were just an infant, so it’s only natural that you have no recollection of me.”

Jophia was still clinging to Talitha, only holding on by a handpaw as she slowly began to step away a few paces towards the window of the room at her back; she gingerly let it slip from her grasp as she saw the grave look of confusion begin to descend upon her friend. She knew it was best to give her the space she needed, considering all that Yanat and Doctor Daloh had told her thus far.

Talitha didn’t know what to feel in that moment except a sense of unease that had unexpectedly begun to bubble up inside her. All of a sudden, the room felt so very small, like the world had shrunk until it was only herself and the others in her quarters with her. She knew she’d never seen this man in all her life, and in spite of that, a part of her insisted that she had, and not for reasons that were pleasurable.

The room had fallen into an awkward silence as Yanat waited for Talitha’s response, but when no answer came except for her recoiling backwards slightly, he stepped forward a few paces, arms outstretched peacefully to show that he meant no harm. In doing that, Talitha felt herself back up straight against the wall, her claws digging into the stone as she felt cornered. Seeing the sense of vulnerability, Yanat eased up somewhat and advanced no further, simply stopping in the center of the room as the eyes of Elkanah, Doctor Daloh, and Jophia also descended upon him.

“There’s a great deal that I need to say to you, Talitha,” Yanat said, swallowing roughly as he internally battled his own anxieties. “And there are infinite apologies that I owe you as well. Not in a hundred lifetimes could I ever hope to right the wrongs that I committed against you and your mother so long ago. For that, I can only beg your forgiveness, and hope that it is within your heart to pardon me.”

“W-why?” Talitha stuttered, continuing to stand a distance away from Yanat. “What did you do?”

“I robbed you of many things, Talitha,” Yanat said, dismissing himself from the center of the room and treading over to the small table that rested on the other side of the room to take a seat. He was starting to feel like the room was spinning with the avalanche of emotions that would soon be cascading over him. “All because I was too afraid to stand up to the High King and his decree. I thought by acting in the Confederate Congress and abandoning my post in Phaziah Ishigar’s household troops would have given me the peace, but it didn’t, because I knew that you were suffering under Zeshom Noor all this time. Yet there was nothing I could do unless you were found within the Confederacy. And now you’re here, at long last.”

Doctor Daloh took a seat beside her companion with a handpaw upon his shoulder, continuing to comfort him in the trial that lay ahead as he came clean. Elkanah and Jophia stood further back and idle, though still listening. Talitha, however, still demanded an answer, growing a little more assertive in her tone. “I asked what you did,” she said somewhat forcefully. “How do you know who I am?”

Yanat clasped his handpaws together and buried the bridge of his muzzle against his fists, elbows leaning against the table as he closed his eyes and started recounting his tale. It was going to take every ounce of willpower he had to say these things. “The story about your mother being irradiated on a slave ship is all a lie, Talitha,” he told her. “That wasn’t how she died, and it wasn’t the reason your fur is colored in the shade of nobility, either.

“Your mother, Shiphra, was a slave belonging to Phaziah Ishigar, serving in his palace in the royal capital of Shaleth,” he continued on. “Before that, she labored in the salt mines of Tirag and survived far longer than most other slaves there do. She had a striking beauty about her that shimmered in the face of the horrors she endured, yet she suffered in silence. The High King saw through it, wishing to be something for her that the laws of Siva would never permit, for it is sacrilege for the blood of nobility and slave to intertwine. Yet, he broke this precedent with Shiphra, and it was by their bond that you were born, Talitha.”

The last sentence hit Talitha like a punch straight to her gut. Everything that had been said up to this point, and everything she’d suspected about why she was different, why Zeshom Noor had said what he said in his maniacal ravings before death, why he’d teased her with names like ‘Princess’, why she longed for something so much more than the life of a slave in the mud pits would have ever afforded her—it all had come full circle with what Yanat had just said. Shiphra hadn’t been just another slave in the stock that had been aboard that ship and ruined by the flare. She had come from Shaleth and been the secret lover of the High King, creating her in much of his likeness with her fur of gold and the tan undercoat of slave blood beneath. She couldn’t even respond, for it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her lungs entirely.

“Shiphra bore Phaziah Ishigar’s child in the palace,” Yanat said, squinting his eyes as if he could stop the tears that had begun to trickle down. “That child was you. And the High King had no intention of owning up to his sin, because no other in the history of Siva’s monarchs had dared tempt fate in that way. And so he decreed that Shiphra was to be put to death, and that you were to be sold as a slave in the most remote reaches of the planet, where your heritage would forever be a secret.”

Yanat paused, smashing his still clasped fists down on the table in frustration as he began to admit his role in everything. “Phaziah Ishigar tasked me with carrying out the execution,” he said with the utmost regret. “And as a member of the household troops, I obeyed without question. I wish I hadn’t. Suns forgive me; I wish I hadn’t. I wrenched you from your mother’s arms and held you away from her the entire march towards the Pillars of Purification, but even through it all I still felt for Shiphra. I felt for you, Talitha. My men were continually insulting and mocking you both the entire way there, and even then I still tried to blot it out and find some way I could muster even an inkling of righteousness. And I hoped I could do just that; to give her the tiniest token of mercy where your mother had been denied it.”

Talitha no longer felt herself backed up into the wall. Instead, her legs had begun to feel like jelly as the quivering shock of all the information she was being told hit her at once. She slowly had slid down against the wall until she was seated on the floor, her handpaws trembling as her palms lay flat against the floor and she looked onward at Yanat with her own teary eyes. The universe that had enslaved her and torn her apart a thousand times over had been orchestrated by this man, and her own father, Phaziah Ishigar. The immensity of such a realization threatened to swallow her like a black hole.

“Zeshom Noor didn’t give you your name, Talitha,” Yanat said, sighing heavily. “As is custom that owners name their slaves, and not the parents. Your name was Shiphra’s gift of love to you; the only departing blessing she could bestow unto your spirit where it would otherwise be denied. I made sure Zeshom Noor made good on the promise I made to your mother. She had asked that whoever became your master or mistress would refer to you as the name she had given you. Low and behold, her wish lives on in you, Talitha. Your name, your very essence and being—you are the manifestation of a mother’s love in a world that sought to rob it from her.”

Yanat finally opened his eyes, turning his head as he looked over to Talitha. “I am sorry that I didn’t do more to ensure that you were gifted more than just that, young Talitha,” he said. “I am sorry that I led your mother to her death. I am sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to flee away and whisk you to freedom.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

Talitha, nor for that matter anybody else in the room, said anything for a long while. The girl just continued to sit there as her breath came in shallow gasps, for it was the only way she could hope to breathe at all as she processed everything that had just been thrown at her. Besides that, all she could do was stare at Yanat, not knowing whether to hate him for everything he’d just admitted to or if she should be thankful for having made good on her mother’s promise. If that was what Shiphra’s dying wish had been, then her name now truly meant more to her than all else she could have fathomed it as in the last twenty years. She’d chosen it for her and poured her heart into it, insisting that she be given a right to name her child where no other slave would ever have been afforded it. She loved her that much, and Yanat had made sure that it had held true. On the flip side of the coin, a seething hatred had risen to the surface, both for him and for Phaziah Ishigar. She’d already despised the High King, but now knowing that she was his daughter and cast aside into ignominious slavery, she wished him dead. More than dead. She wanted him cast into the Zaket suns themselves where he could burn until the universe collapsed. She wanted him to pay for having lured her mother into a false hope of something better than what all slaves hoped and dreamed for, and then refusing to take responsibility for the action.

Talitha closed her eyes as she put her head back against the wall, craning it upward. She thought back as hard as she could, knowing it to be impossible to acquire any memories of her time before bondage. The natural course of infantile amnesia wouldn’t permit it, but she didn’t care. She dug down deep, trying to recollect something—anything—about her mother. The vaguest pieces of memory started to form in the blackness of her closed eyes, as a being much like her in appearance began to take shape. The tan fur of her undercoat covering the entirety of her face, the gentle, beautiful locks of hair, the gentle, loving eyes of innocence—had that been Shiphra?

A tiny smile and cry of joy emerged from her lips as she thought that she might attain remembrance of Shiphra, but as quickly as it had come, it began to fade away. The fleeting picture began to simmer away like smoke, leaving nothing but the blackness once again. At the realization that she was gone and that she could never truly formulate any memory of her long lost mother, Talitha’s tears began to spill once more.

“You killed her,” she sniffled in sorrow, reopening her eyes and gazing at Yanat. “You killed her, took me from her, and sold me into slavery at the High King’s command. You and Phaziah let me grow up in starvation, in chains, in agony, in mud. Do you know how many nights I stared up at Magofa, Gefo, and the stars, asking why I was different and why I desired something more than the misery of Zeshom Noor’s ownership? All the while, questioning why—why—I was flawed, when I wasn’t. It was blood calling out for a life and a mother I was never allowed to have!”

“I cannot know,” Yanat answered. “I can never know. Long have I prayed to the suns to calm my mind and the chaos within, for it has never rested ever since that day that I committed such a grave sin. Deep down, I was hoping that this day of reconciliation would come. Not just for my own sake, Talitha. I have wished for it to become reality so that you may be given the chances long denied from you. For you to be given that will be the only kind of penance I can strive for.”

“And what chances do you think you could possibly give me that could ever make up for what you and my father did to me? To Shiphra? Did you ever give her a chance?” Talitha fired back, a small sense of anger beginning to well up inside and mix with the mournful emotions. “What can possibly make right twenty years of pain?”

“Nothing can,” Yanat said, pushing himself up from the table very slowly, still looking as if he might keel over any moment, but doing everything in his power to remain resolute. He finally turned to face Talitha head on, and as the others only watched in tense silence, he began to step forward, dropping to one knee before the girl. “Nothing can undo your life that was so cruelly stolen away from you.”

Ever so delicately, he reached out with his handpaw, opening it with his palm facing up as if asking for hers in reconciliation. Still having expected her to recoil some as she had done thus far, she did not such thing, simply narrowing her teary eyes as she observed his gesture with hateful skepticism, masking a sense that she did want to believe in his commitment to make things right. “The choices you have in your freedom, however, can shape the rest of your future,” he said before pausing once again, looking to Doctor Daloh for a moment as she knew how hopeful she was on Talitha wanting to be a symbol for the Confederacy. “And however you choose to carry yourself in this universe may yet pave the way for freedom for billions more, and ensure that none ever suffer as you have.”

Still outstretching his handpaw, Yanat gulped anxiously as he laid out the ultimate decision Talitha would ever be given in her life. He intended to make good on his hope that the girl would be given a choice in the matters ahead, and not forced by the Confederacy to do their bidding. He’d forced Talitha’s mother into one cruel fate, and he wasn’t about to do it again to her, either. “And as the sole child of the High King, you have a right to claim your heritage and the legacy that was stolen from you,” he said. “You have the right to set the tone for the entirety of the Confederacy of Liberation and its crusade, should you so wish it. You are Talitha, daughter of Shiphra and Phaziah Ishigar, and your life now rests solely in your own paws.”

Talitha looked down at his handpaw, seeing it tremor as all of Yanat’s fears were finally confronted as he’d come clean. He’d done a great thing by coming forth with this; that much was true. But she did not know if she had it in her heart to forgive him for such a monstrous crime, much less her own father. “I always dreamt of a life beyond the mud pits, beyond the beatings, beyond the burning glare of the Zaket suns,” she said, still keeping her palms flat against the floor and refusing to take Yanat’s in settlement. “And maybe the blood coursing through my veins cried out for more because of who my father really is. Yet, through my mother and my life, I know the pain and suffering of all Siva’s oppressed. Perhaps I am meant to somebody to bridge the disconnect between the castes, or perhaps I am meant to challenge my father. If these are what destiny decrees of me, then I shall follow the paths.”

She slowly pushed herself back up against the wall into a standing position, now looking down at Yanat as she inhaled deeply. “I will make that choice myself, and I doubt I’d have pursued it at all had you not come here today,” she said. “But just because you’ve admitted your guilt and told me of my lost history doesn’t mean I forgive you. Not yet. Maybe never.”

Yanat lowered his head as he stood up as well, feeling more burdened that the girl could not pardon him now. Nonetheless, who could blame her for feeling that way? He had done all he could by giving her the truth and the ability to carve her own destiny from here on out. “Whether or not you forgive me is the beauty of the choices you now wield, Talitha,” he said. “Whichever you decide, I will honor it. That you are given that very essence of free will is all I want, and by supporting the paths you tread, I will find peace.”

“I hope that in doing that, you shall,” Talitha said, simply bowing her head to him before turning it away in the direction of the window, looking sadly out to the skyline of Sarat. “I would very much like to speak with you again, Yanat, and soon. But I would like some time alone to…”

Talitha shivered a bit, the intensity of the truths that had hit her ebbing back and forth like a tide. “...to take in everything that has been said, and to make these decisions that have been laid before me.”

Yanat did not insist on anything further, knowing that he had placed a massive burden upon the shoulders of Talitha after she had only so recently cast one off. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but deep within he knew there would be little point in doing so, and it would only impact Talitha in all the wrong ways. He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder by Doctor Daloh as she urged him to come along, motioning to him with a single nod that he had done all that he could, and more. He had walked in to face his greatest fear, and had come clean with a truth that had been buried for two whole decades. There was nothing more that could be asked of him.

“We hope that you shall seek us out, young Talitha,” Doctor Daloh said, quietly motioning for Jophia to join her and Yanat in their exit, as their duty there was now complete. “Know that the Confederacy of Liberation pledges itself to whatever choices you settle upon.”

Talitha only nodded and gave a mild sniffle as she continued looking away towards the skyline of Sarat. She didn’t know what she would do next, whether it was going on a path to avenge her mother, crusade for the Confederacy’s ideals, or offer herself as a symbol to be rallied behind. She couldn’t know. Not when the fragmented, incomplete vestiges of memory involving her mother and father swam in her mind.

Jophia ignored Doctor Daloh’s command to exit for only but a moment, limping over to Talitha and tenderly holding her handpaw. “Whatever happens, Talitha,” she said. “I also promise to support you. I owe you my life for having saved it from Princess Aliya.”

Talitha only nodded again as she had done in response to the other statements, but showed a little smile and squeezed Jophia’s handpaw back in confirmation that she understood. It gave the ashen furred Sivathi a small glimmer of happiness in the face of the depressive atmosphere that had descended. In spite of its outward gloom, she knew that the news that had been given to her friend would be impactful, and could only better her as a free woman. She then quickly let go, trudging out of the room to depart with the others. Out of respect for her wish, Elkanah followed behind, dismissing himself from their quarters to wait until his companion called for him.

Yanat looked over his shoulder one final time. “I hope that we may honor your mother’s legacy together, Talitha,” he said promisingly as the door slid closed, hissing as it sealed against the wall and cut them off from the pair inside. “And I also hope that she looks down upon us all and smiles at the woman you’ve become, and that you’ve won your freedom.”

Talitha didn’t hear the final part of his comment after the door shut. The silence was deafening in its own right. Atop it, voices had begun to spin in her head that she thought she knew—beautiful voices that sang in radiance; could it be the angel of Shiphra from on high, crying in revelry at seeing the truth having been delivered to her daughter after so long?

“All I know is how to survive,” she whispered to herself, crossing her arms upon the windowsill and looking upward at the aurora. “I don’t know how to live. Is that enough for what my destiny demands of me?”

She watched the dancing lights of the sky mingle with the neons and flashes of the city below it, the illusory shapes of what could have been her mother forming and then quickly diminishing. It was like she was trying to talk to her, and through the lights of the heavens, maybe her voice was being carried all the way to Shaleth as she addressed her father as well. She hoped the ghost of her mother heard her pleas for guidance, but she especially hoped that her whispers were carried on the wind to haunt the man who had orchestrated the fate of Shiphra and condemned her child to suffer in slavery.

“No matter where I go from here, and no matter which path I tread…” she said, curling her fingers against the stone upon which her arms rested.

“…The Zaket suns will illuminate what you tried to hide in shadow.”