Witch Doctors Inc: SEASON TWO (Ongoing)

Part 3.1

1,000 YEARS IN THE PAST
KRONOS, ARIADNE

Hot swirls of desert wind teased Scion's leathery skin. The sands here were deliciously warm, and they tickled his toes with the promise of a baking slumber. In the distance, the glow of emerquartz studded the shadows of Kronos.

The Ariadne weren't wasteful enough to build their entire city with emerquartz. It was a sacred stone, after all. The spires of Kronos were mostly black lime, with large spheres of emerquartz embedded throughout.

Scion was proud of his city, or so he told himself. His people were the strongest in the galaxy. They had centuries of pride behind them. Yet, when he gazed upon Kronos's ethereal towers, pride and honour were not the first things to come to his mind. He wondered instead why the emerquartz's green flame glowed throughout the whole stone, while the flame of the fire quartz native to Phaedra was more subdued.

The itch of curiosity was difficult to tame. Why did the Ariadni and Phaedreans hate each other? What made the Phaedreans philosophers and the Ariadni warriors? And what happened to the fire demons who had once called this planet home? These questions ignited within him often. He'd learned not to ask them. A warrior obeyed, not wondered.

The battle simulations at school left him with wounds that took bedrest to heal. But warriors did not take bedrest. The other boys at school braved the injuries. They turned up to school the next day, wearing them with pride. But Scion hurt. He tried to be strong, but he hated the pain that ate at his body. He wanted peace.

Peace only brought him more injuries.

"Have some honour," his oldest bully, Zenith, would sneer. Then the pummelling would come.

Keeping questions to himself was one thing, but his lack of battle prowess meant he would never be respected among his peers. Even the teachers regarded him with scorn.

Scion knew he should be spending his free time training. He needed to be strong to be respected. But, of course, he was sifting sand through his fingers instead, admiring the way each grain burned like starfire.

When emerald smoke coalesced beside him, forming the shape of the High Councillor of Kronos, Scion chucked the sand behind him in a panic.

A cruel smile stretched the High Councillor's lips. "Scion, is it?"

Scion stood up straight. "Yes, sir."

"The plant boy." The sneer in his voice made Scion hang his head. Yes, he had always been fascinated by plants. He tried to hide his fascination, but it broke out all the same.

"The High Councillor Lazarus has taken note of you," Oedipus, as Scion believed he was called, continued. "He wants you to go to Prometheus for further studies. Now what do you think of that?"

Scion was careful with his answer. Oedipus scared him, though he knew a warrior should not be scared. "I have no interest in such things."

Oedipus's smile widened. "Don't you?" The green mist surrounding him faded. "High Councillor Lazarus thinks you do. He feels you could be a great botanist some day." Oedipus's laugh filled the desert.

"I want to be a warrior. I will not consort with the Phaedreans."

Oedipus nodded absently. "Of course, of course. The thing is, Scion, the Phaedreans have never invited one of us to study with them before. They have always considered us stupid. An inferior race."

Scion stayed silent. Oedipus was going somewhere with this, he just didn't know where.

"Did you know we were slaves once?"

Scion jerked back with shock. "No! No, sir. I did not."

"Before Phaedra outlawed slavery, they ran a slave trade here. They kept us like animals."

Scion's mind reeled. The Ariadni, slaves? It was impossible. They were warriors. They were the enslavers.

"There are many secrets like that hidden in the libraries of Prometheus," Oedipus told him. "If you were to go there, we would find what they are hiding from us."

Scion didn't know the Phaedreans were hiding anything from them. They knew things, of course, because they were nosy, but he hadn't considered that that meant the Ariadni knew less.

"You have my permission to go to Prometheus with High Councillor Lazarus. You will work for the pride of our people."

Excitement swelled within Scion. Pride. He would be the pride of their people. Not Zenith, or any of the other boys at school, but him.

"I will serve my people," he promised.

Oedipus smiled again. "Good. Go to Prometheus with Lazarus. Pretend to be interested in their patronage. But whenever you get the chance, pore over their most ancient of tomes. Find their secrets. Bring me the truth of the brother kings."