The Exiled Earthborn by Paul Tassi Page B

years ago and gave birth to our entire race. They eventually became worshipped as gods, and their followers believe they sit on the oak thrones, judging the dead who enter the afterlife.”
    “And you’re not a believer, I take it?”
    Maston shook his head.
    “Almost no one is anymore. Well, no one but these fanatics who have twisted it into their own self-serving dogma.” He motioned to Tulwar. “When we grew into this age of science, it seemed impossible for anyone to truly believe these superstitious folktales. And yet, some still persist. Religion was actually made illegal on Sora a few eras ago, but that was a disaster. After the Sacred Wars, we let people think what they wanted.”
    “The Blessed Forest, huh? We had a story like that back on Earth, but it was a garden, and there was a talking snake and some really bad fruit involved. A lot of people believed that one too.”
    “Legends are more interesting than facts, I suppose.”
    Maston was starting to slur noticeably now. He paused for a moment and stared past Lucas.
    “Cora believed,” he said quietly. “Not in all the bullshit in the Tomes of the Forest. But she believed in a greater power, that someone was looking out for her, for us. I mocked her for it, but some days I wish I had her faith. It made her so … peaceful. Even the deaths of her father and brothers she handled with more grace than should be possible. I never understood that kind of power. I probably never will.”
    He looked directly at Lucas.
    “I-I don’t have the ability not to kill Tulwar for this. What you said stopped me for a moment, but I’ll never forgive him. Not like she would. I can’t. And he’ll never forgive me.”
    “Forgive you ? For what?”
    Maston waved him off. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial of brown liquid. He threw his head back and inhaled the entire thing. A few more clinked inside his coat.
    “Why the hell am I talking to you anyway? I’ve had too many of these. Just leave me alone.”
    Lucas shook his head and turned to leave. If he kept that pace, Maston’s vials would render him unconscious soon enough. But who could blame him? It had been a hell of a day. A hell of a year, for that matter.
    Lucas left Maston to wallow, locked ten feet away from a man he desperately wanted dead. It was a tragic scene Lucas was finding hard to shake, and it had been a glimpse inside Maston’s head that went beyond the pompous asshole from the party or the vengeful soldier he’d seen since then. Cora’s death had hit him hard, and after learning something of their history, it was difficult not to feel for him. Lucas wondered if he would have been better off letting Maston beat Tulwar into oblivion back on Rhylos. What did Lucas care about the politics of this strange planet anyway?
    But he owed Talis. She had faith in him when a dozen military officials were likely calling for his execution back when he was locked up, and had treated him with nothing but kindness ever since. If she wanted the murderer of her daughter to face justice alive, then so be it.
    The lift doors opened and Lucas found himself on a level of the palace he’d never been to before. He double checked the virtual map on his wrist and found he was indeed in the right location, thankfully no longer deep under the planet’s surface. There were people bustling around everywhere, and Lucas was relieved to spot a familiar face. What was his name again?
    “Keeper Auran!” he called, motioning to the old man. The man smiled, adding a host of new wrinkles to his complexion, and he sauntered over to Lucas. His long robes were a rich green today with gold cords weaving in and out of the fabric.
    “It is good to see you well,” he said warmly. “After I left the Throne Room I feared the worst when I heard the explosion.”
    “Glad to see you weren’t around either,” Lucas said.
    “Indeed. I’ve heard the lady is recovering from her recent brush with the Fourth