Read Online Kudisha Departure Episode 1 Journey to Rehnor series by J. Naomi Ay - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. Naomi Ay
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Wooter said,
his large body perched upon the box of wafers. "You have spared
your son this burden by taking it upon yourself. Eventually, all
would have resulted in the same. Only now we are free to escape, to
begin life again on this new planet." Then, Wooter laughed. “And,
as a small bonus, all of Parliament and those bloody politicians
are now gone.”
Karukan took small comfort in his friend’s
words, for indeed, he would have spared his son the horrors of this
war, and this decision. Never would he have wished this burden upon
Kirat, for despite the young man’s insolence, he was closest to his
father’s heart.
Neither was there solace in knowing that his
enemy, Markiis Kalila suffered this same sorrow. Perhaps even, he
was dead now and unlike Karukan, his soul was released from this
horrific shame.
"I sincerely doubt that,” Wooter sneered,
tossing back a tiny snifter of alcohol from the precious supply
which would have to last the entire transit. “He won't be dancing
in the fields of Heaven. More likely he is screaming as his skin
burns to cinders in the dark cellars of Hell. At least, I hope so.
Kari-fa! The man deserves it, self-styling himself as a
saint."
"I would choose Hell over what I must endure
now," Karukan replied morosely, while staring at the hand which
refused to take up either pencil or pen.
"No, you wouldn't, Ruka. Now, you have the
opportunity to redeem yourself. Perhaps this is all part of some
great master plan, and you have been cast in a role already written
for you. Have a drink, my dear friend. I toast you and your new
title, King of Rehnor. Surely, that is much better than watching
your skin burn over and over, whilst the Devil laughs at your
discomfort."
"Perhaps, our skins shall do so regardless,"
the King replied, and poured himself a glass of the precious amber
liquid. "Indeed, the natives there might find us rather tasty. We
shall travel all this long distance across the stars, only to end
up in a pot fried to extra-crispy."
"Ah, there is my old friend and king," Wooter
laughed again. "You shall survive this yet. I look forward to our
landing, whether or not the natives’ pot awaits. It shall be quite
an adventure, and much warmer than our ice cave in the frozen
north."
"Adventure indeed."
Karukan turned his back slightly, this small
movement indicative of Wooter’s dismissal.
“Good day then, my king.” The Lord Chamberlain
rose, stifling a yawn. “I shall venture upward to see how my
beloved wife entertains herself. Summon me if something urgent or
important arises out here in space.”
Karukan nodded, and took a sip from his glass,
restraining himself from swallowing it whole. Doing such would
merely prompt him to refill it once again.
He could get quite drunk here. Who would care?
What would it matter? He was king of a land that no longer existed
on a planet that was poisoned for centuries to come. King of
Rehnor, indeed. What was that? The lord of twelve ships, ten people
each. If they all survived, the Karuptas amounted to no more than a
few families.
They wouldn’t all survive. Precious few would
set their feet upon the new earth. He had been told this by the
voice of that spectral, that alien, or angel. Karukan was never
certain what he was. He had come to the king since he was a child,
Behrat’s age, or younger, first appearing as a shining orb, when
Karukan thought he was still asleep.
Later, the phantasm took the form of a boy,
and later still, he manifested as a man. He could have been the
mirror image of Karukan now, so much so the king had a thought that
he might actually be himself. Or, he could simply be an illusion, a
product of his own lonely, and traumatized brain.
But, what if he really was Karukan? What if
instead of Rehnor, this tiny ship took him through a black hole,
through a time warp, or a space tunnel, allowing him to return to
counsel himself? Wouldn’t he then advise himself to take another
course, to negotiate with Kalila, and
his large body perched upon the box of wafers. "You have spared
your son this burden by taking it upon yourself. Eventually, all
would have resulted in the same. Only now we are free to escape, to
begin life again on this new planet." Then, Wooter laughed. “And,
as a small bonus, all of Parliament and those bloody politicians
are now gone.”
Karukan took small comfort in his friend’s
words, for indeed, he would have spared his son the horrors of this
war, and this decision. Never would he have wished this burden upon
Kirat, for despite the young man’s insolence, he was closest to his
father’s heart.
Neither was there solace in knowing that his
enemy, Markiis Kalila suffered this same sorrow. Perhaps even, he
was dead now and unlike Karukan, his soul was released from this
horrific shame.
"I sincerely doubt that,” Wooter sneered,
tossing back a tiny snifter of alcohol from the precious supply
which would have to last the entire transit. “He won't be dancing
in the fields of Heaven. More likely he is screaming as his skin
burns to cinders in the dark cellars of Hell. At least, I hope so.
Kari-fa! The man deserves it, self-styling himself as a
saint."
"I would choose Hell over what I must endure
now," Karukan replied morosely, while staring at the hand which
refused to take up either pencil or pen.
"No, you wouldn't, Ruka. Now, you have the
opportunity to redeem yourself. Perhaps this is all part of some
great master plan, and you have been cast in a role already written
for you. Have a drink, my dear friend. I toast you and your new
title, King of Rehnor. Surely, that is much better than watching
your skin burn over and over, whilst the Devil laughs at your
discomfort."
"Perhaps, our skins shall do so regardless,"
the King replied, and poured himself a glass of the precious amber
liquid. "Indeed, the natives there might find us rather tasty. We
shall travel all this long distance across the stars, only to end
up in a pot fried to extra-crispy."
"Ah, there is my old friend and king," Wooter
laughed again. "You shall survive this yet. I look forward to our
landing, whether or not the natives’ pot awaits. It shall be quite
an adventure, and much warmer than our ice cave in the frozen
north."
"Adventure indeed."
Karukan turned his back slightly, this small
movement indicative of Wooter’s dismissal.
“Good day then, my king.” The Lord Chamberlain
rose, stifling a yawn. “I shall venture upward to see how my
beloved wife entertains herself. Summon me if something urgent or
important arises out here in space.”
Karukan nodded, and took a sip from his glass,
restraining himself from swallowing it whole. Doing such would
merely prompt him to refill it once again.
He could get quite drunk here. Who would care?
What would it matter? He was king of a land that no longer existed
on a planet that was poisoned for centuries to come. King of
Rehnor, indeed. What was that? The lord of twelve ships, ten people
each. If they all survived, the Karuptas amounted to no more than a
few families.
They wouldn’t all survive. Precious few would
set their feet upon the new earth. He had been told this by the
voice of that spectral, that alien, or angel. Karukan was never
certain what he was. He had come to the king since he was a child,
Behrat’s age, or younger, first appearing as a shining orb, when
Karukan thought he was still asleep.
Later, the phantasm took the form of a boy,
and later still, he manifested as a man. He could have been the
mirror image of Karukan now, so much so the king had a thought that
he might actually be himself. Or, he could simply be an illusion, a
product of his own lonely, and traumatized brain.
But, what if he really was Karukan? What if
instead of Rehnor, this tiny ship took him through a black hole,
through a time warp, or a space tunnel, allowing him to return to
counsel himself? Wouldn’t he then advise himself to take another
course, to negotiate with Kalila, and
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