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“Understand that. The only power they have is in death. The harder they die, the louder their voice, the deeper the echoes. But your wife served her purpose.”
as though my girl of smiles and laughter was meant for nothing but death.
eugenics and biological tampering
Until they don’t. Until their hearts explode.”
Foreshadow?
Eo was beautiful. I still remember the flush of blood in her cheeks as she danced. She had all the raw colors of life, the crude beauty of nature. I am the human concept of beauty. Gold made soft and supple into man’s form.
Red is rising,
One dance, the Polemides, has a nostalgic feel.
It is a dance my body is made for, one so very similar to the illegal Reaping Dance.
research the dances I performed. Polemides is Greek for “child of war.” It is the dance that reminded me so much of Uncle Narol’s dances. It is the Gold’s dance of war, the one they teach young children to prepare them for
the motions of martial warfare and the use of the razor. I watch a holo of Golds in battle, and my heart falls into my stomach. They fight like a summer song. Not like the thunderous, monstrous Obsidians. But like birds banking into a fresh wind. They fight in pairs, swerving, dancing, killing, ripping through a field of Obsidian and Gray as though they were at play with scythes and all the bodies that fell to them were like stalks of grain that sprayed blood instead of sallow chaff. Their golden armor shines. Their razors flash. They are gods, not men.
They didn’t create me. She did.
Uncle Narol shaped me the most.
“L for Lacadaemonia.” But it is for Lykos. For Lambda.
Lazarus
why. His scandalous mother, a bannerwoman of the House Bellona, owns our planet’s two moons.
I mutter my wife’s name as I fall to cradle his head. His face has become like a blood blossom.
Are they listening to him?
So said my uncle.
Who is his uncle and how did he know his fate?
“My Proctor calls him the Jackal.
Like spring to my deep winter.
“The measure of a man is what he does when he has power,”
“I see.” Her eyes go cold. “So they are cheating for the ArchGovernor’s son.”
An uprising within the Gold.. It is inevitable in history
The Proctors? The Jackal? Someone watches me. When something watches you and you don’t know where it is, there is only one sensible thing to do. Change the bloodydamn paradigm, try to even the playing field. Make it have to look for you.
There is goodness in Golds, because in many ways, they are the best humanity can offer.
