HOME | DD

Description
As her hands grasped tightly on the windowsill, she found her eyes traveling downwards towards the people who strolled idly, safe on the ground. She had to be at least hundreds of miles into the air: a safety precaution the Council of Elders had taken to make sure that no one, absolutely no one, overheard their conversations. The height of their headquarters’ building, however, was just about the only thing the woman hated about her job. It could be ignored, as long as she stood and sat far away from the windows, but this horrid habit had grown to be routine whenever a meeting was called. It was as if she had to check and make sure that sure should be wary and slightly paranoid about the grand height their building was setup at, and while the woman never understood this bad habit herself, she didn’t have time to question it. Footsteps could be heard - a faint tapping and clacking on pure glass - signifying that her contemplation time was over. Running a hand down cream-colored skirt, the woman straightened her posture and let loose a held-in breath, making her way towards the rounded, glass-table, where the other members of the Council sat.

Or rather, the other member.

“It’s just astounding when people are punctual… That’s what I love about you, Mya.”

It was unnecessary, really, for them to meet here at all. She could’ve called, could’ve written a letter, or even shown up at her house. Why did they need to be at headquarters, of all places? Mya clenched her teeth, but said nothing, taking the time to roll her crystal blue eyes around the architecture of the building. As usual, it was made of glass, but obviously, not your everyday sort of glass that the average citizen built their homes out of. This glass seemed to change color with every blink, leaving a mesmerizing and breathtaking effect on anyone who was looking on at the sight. Various portraits hung on the walls, of former members of the Council of Elders, especially those who had made a great impact on the community. It was rather horrid of her, but she couldn’t recall any of their names for the life of her. Although they had made her write all of the former members ever to be in the Council for her entrance exam, such knowledge had leaked out of the woman now. Glass flowers in elegantly painted vases lit up the room, while a chandelier hung idly from the ceiling, illuminating the room. The light shone on the female’s face who sat at the rounded table, her grin lit up like that of a satisfied tiger’s.

Hesitantly, Mya seated herself at the table, folding her hands in her lap, and making sure to stare right into the woman’s eyes. They were a bright, astounding amethyst, which marked the two females in this room as different from day and night. Her hair was an pale, almost albino white, which was did up in a refined bun, with strands of curled hair falling downwards from the sides of her face. She was clad in a sophisticated, yet neat and proper white dress, void of lace, but not lacking ribbons. It made her seem ghostly, which was odd for this woman, since Mya assumed that people who were the head of their home world’s council would wish to stand out from a crowd. Granted, their was no crowd to stand out of at the moment. It was merely her and Mya, sitting in a dim room (except for the one source of light, the chandelier), facing off in utter silence as they waited for the other to speak. Mya ran a hand through her own hair, a dirty blonde which lazily fell to her shoulders, and drew a breath, as if meaning to speak. She was cut off almost instantly by the woman at the end of the table, who propped her elbows up at the table and let loose a deep sigh.

“My home world wishes you a great well-being,” the woman offered, her voice monotone, which made Mya wonder if she was really just saying that, or if the people from her home world were more hospitable than she. “But let’s be honest, shall we? I assume that you already know that this meeting is not to talk of peace and trifle affairs. Such is why it is only you and I in the Tower today. I only wish to speak with you.”

Such are the woes of being Head of the Council of Elders, Mya thought bitterly. No wonder the job was so easy to snatch up. No one in their right mind wanted to have to deal with foreign affairs, especially when the representatives were all so different from the people they were used to. The woman’s eyes, for example, were chilling to look into, mainly because she had never seen such vibrantly colored irises, and how eerie they could be. It made her blood tremble, but such discomforts were not shown in her posture. Back straight, eyes lifeless, and mouth set to a standstill, Mya had trained herself to set a poker-face for times like this. For, during the years she had taken up this job, she had realized that these meetings, even though they were supposed to be for “establishing peace,” were really quite passive-aggressive, through body language, tone of voice, and eye movements alone. Another reason why she had been chosen as the Head: she knew how to talk to people without even speaking at all.

“We’ve… heard about the attacks,” Mya responded simply, her voice somewhat solemn, mimicking sympathy. “And you can rest assured, Pridea has taken no part in the raids, or have aided whoever is committing such tragedies upon your world whatsoever.” She watched those amethyst eyes smirk, as if to question her reassurances. Trying not to sound pushy, Mya chewed on the tip of her tongue, and started up again. “If this meeting is about needing aid to ward off your attackers, Pridea would be happy to assist.”

It was far too peaceful in their little utopia anyway, and some of the Elders were wondering when they’d get to actually use their government-granted powers to eliminate lawbreakers one day. Mya, on the other hand, cherished their peace, and was quite grateful that the only problems they had to deal with were, well, foreign issues. In order to keep their allies happy, sometimes it was necessary to do a bit of cleaning up after their own messes. Problematic and troublesome, yes, but of the many Pridean Elite who were risking their lives out on the front line, Mya wasn’t one of them, and neither was anyone she cared about. However, she never really liked the idea of sending their own Elite forces out to aid others. One day, when they really needed them, they’d be off gallivanting in other worlds…. She shook the thought from her head. This job made her more paranoid that need be…

“Assistance,” the white-haired woman scoffed, finally moving from her relaxed position, removing one elbow from the table and using such hand to point an extremely slender finger over to Mya’s direction. Crystal blue eyes pinpointed the finger, noticing how sickly it seemed to be. It was as if she didn’t eat at all, or was just devoid of the right nutrients in her body. Perhaps the situation was more horrible in her homeworld than Mya had assumed? Holding her breath, the dirty blonde awaited the woman’s onslaught.

“I recall a day when Naraciss needed nothing from anyone. We were the proud, the strong, the wholly free, and now, see the predicament we are in…” The woman squeezed her eyes shut, snarling under her breath, while Mya scooted her chair away from the table a tad, as if afraid that the woman might shatter the glass with the pure rage she was emitting. “Raiders! And we do not even know their identities… Just darkness, that’s all we know. Never before have we seen or felt such darkness before… Like walking nightmares… Nightmares that haunt us during the day. Despicable, unthinkable, yet wholly, utterly, real…”

She withdrew breath, and seemed to realize that she had gotten herself carried away. Blinking her eyes quite a few times while scrunching up her face, the woman seemed to be trying to put herself together, although it did not seem to be working well. After blinking rapidly for a straight minute or two, the foreigner grunted under her breath, shaking her head.

“My apologies,” she muttered, although she did not seem sorry. “You must realize it is hard for me to ask for assistance from your people.” Mya nodded at this, but only slightly. Her homeworld was not called ‘Naraciss,’ for nothing. She had been warned of these stranger foreigners, the Naracissians, who were mostly narcissistic and petty for the strangest of reasons. However, it was easy for Mya, a Pridean, to understand where this woman was coming from. Pride was the easiest of all sins to commit.

“You are forgiven,” was her only consolation. She twiddled her fingers, wishing that this conversation could be taking place somewhere she was more comfortable, like her home, for instance. There, she could snap her fingers and a butler would bring her a box of tissues, or an extremely delicious brand of chocolates, which could make even the most depressed of children and adults more jovial with just one bite. Such luxuries were not given to her here, in the Tower. “We have enough of our Elite to send them out to your homeworld whenever you wish. However, we would need a job description to send out to them….”

Her words trailed off, and the woman instantly picked up on what Mya was trying to express. Those amethyst eyes of hers narrowed slightly, as if just thinking about the calamity that had befallen her home was enough to raise an untamable anger within her. “We’d need at least five hundred of your Elite. I do believe we have enough of our own to eventually wipe out the terror.” Pride was playing a part in her request, Mya could see, but she did not object to the woman’s demands. Instead, she pulled a small, square device out of her pocket, a peach in color, made of glass, obviously. The device flashed as she seemed to be imputing data into it, but the woman took no notice, and continued onwards.

“We are dealing with an enigma. Whoever has been attacking us has decided not to show the scum that is their faces… People have reported shadows, darkness… But we don’t know for sure. Your elite will be dealing with the unknown here, Mya. Just make sure you tell them that.” The woman, for an instant, seemed to be momentarily concerned, at the facts she had just laid out, but the concern - if there really had been any at all - was quickly wiped away, replaced with a fitting scowl. “How fast can they be sent out?”

“The deed has been done,” the dirty blonde replied promptly, pocketing the strange device. The white-haired woman narrowed her eyes at the queer piece of technology, but did not question. Whether this was out of the need to come across as polite or her lack of interest in Pridean technology was uncertain, but Mya found that it was best that her methods were not questioned. To explain a piece of Pridean technology would probably take hours, and Mya wasn’t sure she wished to relay the secrets of her world, even if it was about something so trifle, like the many devices she carried around.

“Would it be right for me to assume that this was your only business here?” Mya inquired, and the white haired woman merely smirked at the question. Oh, how she hated foreigners. Most believed that the Head had a chronic case of xenophobia, because of this hatred, and while this was probably true, she didn’t like the label it put on her. Was it such a crime to prefer the gestures and mannerisms of her own people, rather than put up with this strange Naracissian? How she hated the way her sneers and smirks seemed to want to piece of soul, and the only thing that kept her sitting here with her back erect, keeping a proud stature, was the pure fact that Mya knew that Pridea was the one helping Naraciss, and not the other way around. They were the weakest link at the moment, and while this woman’s pride seemed to make her act differently, Mya knew the whole truth.

The woman’s body finger went to her head of white hair and scratched at it, idly, before folding her hands and placing them upon the table. “It has been exactly one century since the date your people have killed a Truthseeker…. Since our worlds are, indeed, allies, it is out of sheer concern that I ask if you have located another one of them.” Her smile was a sickly sweet, like poisoned honey. “We wouldn’t want any of those atrocities running about… And you know well that Naraciss would halt their own battles to help seize and murder a Truthseeker meandering about. Have they proven a problem for you yet?”

Mya froze, blood stopping dead cold in their tracks, her whole body feeling paralyzed. The Truthseekers, while they only popped up once per century, were something that Pridea and Pridea alone handled. For Naraciss to even suggest helping them was out of the question, especially when they had a life or death battle to fight. Growling, Mya contemplated storming out of the Tower, but knew that was not professional. She was representing all of Pridea here, and just because she felt like ending this conversation for the sake of her sanity, did not mean that she could, or had any right to. Even though, a part of her longed to burst out and ask how Naraciss even knew of the Truthseekers, or did this woman herself merely know? It was something Pridea tried to keep under wraps… Curiosity took hold of her, and Mya decided on inquiring.

“Not many people know of our problem,” she muttered, and the woman’s eyes lit up, as if this was the comment that she had wanted to hear.

“I am not many people,” the white-haired woman clarified, with a sort of smugness that made Mya bite her lip in frustration. “Do not worry, however, it is only a select few of our own Council who know of your once-a-century problem. Do not think it is only your people who fear the Truthseekers though, it is we who fear them as well. I do believe that any world with half a mind would.” She seemed to cast her amethyst gaze towards Mya now, penetrating her soul, yet Mya continued on with her poker-face, attempting to betray no emotion. “We need to know if you have found this century’s Truthseeker yet. If the rumors are true, it is to be born soon. Or perhaps born already… Have you searched for it yet?”

“Our people’s actions are none of your concern, Sylvia.”

As the woman’s name was uttered out into the open, an open scowl was penciled across her features, a snarling emitting from her system, sounding more like a feline of prey than anything else. Her body stood up from the table, her hair and dress swaying with her as she stood, tall and proud, those amethyst eyes of hers darting about in what seemed to be hysteria. Her irises calmed down after a second or two, and as she stamped her boney hands downwards towards the table, Sylvia hissed, tilting her head towards Mya. “What gives you the right to speak my name?” she inquired with a snarl. “Who do you think you are?”

“Just a humble Pridean,” was her calm statement, and even Mya herself had to be proud of how incredibly calm she was keeping herself. Her statement was incredibly hypocritical, since there was a reason Pridea was called Pridea, just like Naraciss was called Naraciss. Their world had to packed with the proudest of people in the known universe, and there was always something someone from this world was insanely proud of. It was a character trait they adhered dearly. The statement, however, calmed Sylvia down, and she sat back down in her glass chair, resting her elbows on the table again, as if nothing had happened.

“Rest assured, our officials are keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavioral patterns that could point out to the Truthseeker. However, you offering to help us is completely out of the question. If you cannot defend yourselves without our help, how much good do you think your people would be to us?” Such bold statements were not the norm for Mya, but after she had seen how easily Sylvia could snap, the woman didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore. Her own crystal blue eyes looked up at the Naracissian’s, and saw that they were filled with utter hatred. Sylvia’s boney fingers ground themselves together, twitching, trying to contain herself, which made Mya wonder if all Naracissians had bad tempers. She expected an explosion of rage, to be honest, and contemplated how she was going to fix the glass building if it shattered to pieces (which could happen if one screamed loudly enough) and how in the world she was going to land safely from a position this high. However, it seemed as if Sylvia did not wish to scream, and held in her bitter hatred. For now.

“You speak the truth.”

At this, a small sneer worked its way around the corners of her mouth, and Mya wondered if she should be wary. Sylvia stood up again from the table, but this time, she seemed more relaxed now. “It was foolish of me to question your actions against the Truthseeker…. I should’ve known that you lot would be more cautious against the threat than our people would - or could - be. They’re not brooding in our territory, at least.”

The meeting was not officially over, but perhaps it would be safe to assume that the woman was finally done with all of her inquiries. Trying insanely hard to ignore her last comment, Mya stood up from her own spot as well, pushing in the glass chair, which let off a small creaking noise. She frowned at it; the chair would have to be fixed, since most of the others did not let off such imperfect noises. Turning her head towards Sylvia, she noticed that the woman was merely standing in one place, her arms crossed, amethyst eyes tilted towards the Tower’s ceiling. It was engraved with a multitude of blue gems, the rare sapphire, by Pridea’s most talented architectures, and it was, indeed, a sight that most foreigners took the time to stare at.

“In all honesty,” Sylvia muttered, “I have always been intrigued by your world of glass. Your utopia, if you will. Perfect, in all senses of the word. With a dedicated Elite fighting force to protect it, and the most skilled and talented people that this universe has come to know. Perfection. I can say with an unabashed demeanor there is times when I envy your world.”

Her words sounded wholly true and sincere, for once, which was a rarity for someone like this foreigner. A slender finger outstretched itself to the ceiling, and, just barely, brushed against one of the sapphire stones engraved in the design, which let off an elegant shine. As she removed her gaze from the ceiling, her eyes locked onto Mya once again. There was something unnerving in her gaze that Mya was not able to place exactly, but she decided that it was venomous, and that no matter what, Sylvia could not be trusted.

“I have heard,” the foreigner began, “That you have recently had a child, about four years of age now? She is almost my daughter’s age, I believe… If it should be proper to ask, what is your daughter’s name? Perhaps one of these days, she will be on the Council herself, if she is anything like you.” Her eyes seemed to laugh, but why she wanted to know this information was beyond her. The white-haired woman lingered by the door, and it was evident that the only push she needed to leave was just this one bit of information. Just this one name, and this meeting would be over, and Mya wouldn’t have to see the foreigner again for a long while.

Hopefully.

“Selena,” Mya responded softly, recalling the child waiting for her back home. “Selena Rhea.”

Description
As her hands grasped tightly on the windowsill, she found her eyes traveling downwards towards the people who strolled idly, safe on the ground. She had to be at least hundreds of miles into the air: a safety precaution the Council of Elders had taken to make sure that no one, absolutely no one, overheard their conversations. The height of their headquarters’ building, however, was just about the only thing the woman hated about her job. It could be ignored, as long as she stood and sat far away from the windows, but this horrid habit had grown to be routine whenever a meeting was called. It was as if she had to check and make sure that sure should be wary and slightly paranoid about the grand height their building was setup at, and while the woman never understood this bad habit herself, she didn’t have time to question it. Footsteps could be heard - a faint tapping and clacking on pure glass - signifying that her contemplation time was over. Running a hand down cream-colored skirt, the woman straightened her posture and let loose a held-in breath, making her way towards the rounded, glass-table, where the other members of the Council sat.

Or rather, the other member.

“It’s just astounding when people are punctual… That’s what I love about you, Mya.”

It was unnecessary, really, for them to meet here at all. She could’ve called, could’ve written a letter, or even shown up at her house. Why did they need to be at headquarters, of all places? Mya clenched her teeth, but said nothing, taking the time to roll her crystal blue eyes around the architecture of the building. As usual, it was made of glass, but obviously, not your everyday sort of glass that the average citizen built their homes out of. This glass seemed to change color with every blink, leaving a mesmerizing and breathtaking effect on anyone who was looking on at the sight. Various portraits hung on the walls, of former members of the Council of Elders, especially those who had made a great impact on the community. It was rather horrid of her, but she couldn’t recall any of their names for the life of her. Although they had made her write all of the former members ever to be in the Council for her entrance exam, such knowledge had leaked out of the woman now. Glass flowers in elegantly painted vases lit up the room, while a chandelier hung idly from the ceiling, illuminating the room. The light shone on the female’s face who sat at the rounded table, her grin lit up like that of a satisfied tiger’s.

Hesitantly, Mya seated herself at the table, folding her hands in her lap, and making sure to stare right into the woman’s eyes. They were a bright, astounding amethyst, which marked the two females in this room as different from day and night. Her hair was an pale, almost albino white, which was did up in a refined bun, with strands of curled hair falling downwards from the sides of her face. She was clad in a sophisticated, yet neat and proper white dress, void of lace, but not lacking ribbons. It made her seem ghostly, which was odd for this woman, since Mya assumed that people who were the head of their home world’s council would wish to stand out from a crowd. Granted, their was no crowd to stand out of at the moment. It was merely her and Mya, sitting in a dim room (except for the one source of light, the chandelier), facing off in utter silence as they waited for the other to speak. Mya ran a hand through her own hair, a dirty blonde which lazily fell to her shoulders, and drew a breath, as if meaning to speak. She was cut off almost instantly by the woman at the end of the table, who propped her elbows up at the table and let loose a deep sigh.

“My home world wishes you a great well-being,” the woman offered, her voice monotone, which made Mya wonder if she was really just saying that, or if the people from her home world were more hospitable than she. “But let’s be honest, shall we? I assume that you already know that this meeting is not to talk of peace and trifle affairs. Such is why it is only you and I in the Tower today. I only wish to speak with you.”

Such are the woes of being Head of the Council of Elders, Mya thought bitterly. No wonder the job was so easy to snatch up. No one in their right mind wanted to have to deal with foreign affairs, especially when the representatives were all so different from the people they were used to. The woman’s eyes, for example, were chilling to look into, mainly because she had never seen such vibrantly colored irises, and how eerie they could be. It made her blood tremble, but such discomforts were not shown in her posture. Back straight, eyes lifeless, and mouth set to a standstill, Mya had trained herself to set a poker-face for times like this. For, during the years she had taken up this job, she had realized that these meetings, even though they were supposed to be for “establishing peace,” were really quite passive-aggressive, through body language, tone of voice, and eye movements alone. Another reason why she had been chosen as the Head: she knew how to talk to people without even speaking at all.

“We’ve… heard about the attacks,” Mya responded simply, her voice somewhat solemn, mimicking sympathy. “And you can rest assured, Pridea has taken no part in the raids, or have aided whoever is committing such tragedies upon your world whatsoever.” She watched those amethyst eyes smirk, as if to question her reassurances. Trying not to sound pushy, Mya chewed on the tip of her tongue, and started up again. “If this meeting is about needing aid to ward off your attackers, Pridea would be happy to assist.”

It was far too peaceful in their little utopia anyway, and some of the Elders were wondering when they’d get to actually use their government-granted powers to eliminate lawbreakers one day. Mya, on the other hand, cherished their peace, and was quite grateful that the only problems they had to deal with were, well, foreign issues. In order to keep their allies happy, sometimes it was necessary to do a bit of cleaning up after their own messes. Problematic and troublesome, yes, but of the many Pridean Elite who were risking their lives out on the front line, Mya wasn’t one of them, and neither was anyone she cared about. However, she never really liked the idea of sending their own Elite forces out to aid others. One day, when they really needed them, they’d be off gallivanting in other worlds…. She shook the thought from her head. This job made her more paranoid that need be…

“Assistance,” the white-haired woman scoffed, finally moving from her relaxed position, removing one elbow from the table and using such hand to point an extremely slender finger over to Mya’s direction. Crystal blue eyes pinpointed the finger, noticing how sickly it seemed to be. It was as if she didn’t eat at all, or was just devoid of the right nutrients in her body. Perhaps the situation was more horrible in her homeworld than Mya had assumed? Holding her breath, the dirty blonde awaited the woman’s onslaught.

“I recall a day when Naraciss needed nothing from anyone. We were the proud, the strong, the wholly free, and now, see the predicament we are in…” The woman squeezed her eyes shut, snarling under her breath, while Mya scooted her chair away from the table a tad, as if afraid that the woman might shatter the glass with the pure rage she was emitting. “Raiders! And we do not even know their identities… Just darkness, that’s all we know. Never before have we seen or felt such darkness before… Like walking nightmares… Nightmares that haunt us during the day. Despicable, unthinkable, yet wholly, utterly, real…”

She withdrew breath, and seemed to realize that she had gotten herself carried away. Blinking her eyes quite a few times while scrunching up her face, the woman seemed to be trying to put herself together, although it did not seem to be working well. After blinking rapidly for a straight minute or two, the foreigner grunted under her breath, shaking her head.

“My apologies,” she muttered, although she did not seem sorry. “You must realize it is hard for me to ask for assistance from your people.” Mya nodded at this, but only slightly. Her homeworld was not called ‘Naraciss,’ for nothing. She had been warned of these stranger foreigners, the Naracissians, who were mostly narcissistic and petty for the strangest of reasons. However, it was easy for Mya, a Pridean, to understand where this woman was coming from. Pride was the easiest of all sins to commit.

“You are forgiven,” was her only consolation. She twiddled her fingers, wishing that this conversation could be taking place somewhere she was more comfortable, like her home, for instance. There, she could snap her fingers and a butler would bring her a box of tissues, or an extremely delicious brand of chocolates, which could make even the most depressed of children and adults more jovial with just one bite. Such luxuries were not given to her here, in the Tower. “We have enough of our Elite to send them out to your homeworld whenever you wish. However, we would need a job description to send out to them….”

Her words trailed off, and the woman instantly picked up on what Mya was trying to express. Those amethyst eyes of hers narrowed slightly, as if just thinking about the calamity that had befallen her home was enough to raise an untamable anger within her. “We’d need at least five hundred of your Elite. I do believe we have enough of our own to eventually wipe out the terror.” Pride was playing a part in her request, Mya could see, but she did not object to the woman’s demands. Instead, she pulled a small, square device out of her pocket, a peach in color, made of glass, obviously. The device flashed as she seemed to be imputing data into it, but the woman took no notice, and continued onwards.

“We are dealing with an enigma. Whoever has been attacking us has decided not to show the scum that is their faces… People have reported shadows, darkness… But we don’t know for sure. Your elite will be dealing with the unknown here, Mya. Just make sure you tell them that.” The woman, for an instant, seemed to be momentarily concerned, at the facts she had just laid out, but the concern - if there really had been any at all - was quickly wiped away, replaced with a fitting scowl. “How fast can they be sent out?”

“The deed has been done,” the dirty blonde replied promptly, pocketing the strange device. The white-haired woman narrowed her eyes at the queer piece of technology, but did not question. Whether this was out of the need to come across as polite or her lack of interest in Pridean technology was uncertain, but Mya found that it was best that her methods were not questioned. To explain a piece of Pridean technology would probably take hours, and Mya wasn’t sure she wished to relay the secrets of her world, even if it was about something so trifle, like the many devices she carried around.

“Would it be right for me to assume that this was your only business here?” Mya inquired, and the white haired woman merely smirked at the question. Oh, how she hated foreigners. Most believed that the Head had a chronic case of xenophobia, because of this hatred, and while this was probably true, she didn’t like the label it put on her. Was it such a crime to prefer the gestures and mannerisms of her own people, rather than put up with this strange Naracissian? How she hated the way her sneers and smirks seemed to want to piece of soul, and the only thing that kept her sitting here with her back erect, keeping a proud stature, was the pure fact that Mya knew that Pridea was the one helping Naraciss, and not the other way around. They were the weakest link at the moment, and while this woman’s pride seemed to make her act differently, Mya knew the whole truth.

The woman’s body finger went to her head of white hair and scratched at it, idly, before folding her hands and placing them upon the table. “It has been exactly one century since the date your people have killed a Truthseeker…. Since our worlds are, indeed, allies, it is out of sheer concern that I ask if you have located another one of them.” Her smile was a sickly sweet, like poisoned honey. “We wouldn’t want any of those atrocities running about… And you know well that Naraciss would halt their own battles to help seize and murder a Truthseeker meandering about. Have they proven a problem for you yet?”

Mya froze, blood stopping dead cold in their tracks, her whole body feeling paralyzed. The Truthseekers, while they only popped up once per century, were something that Pridea and Pridea alone handled. For Naraciss to even suggest helping them was out of the question, especially when they had a life or death battle to fight. Growling, Mya contemplated storming out of the Tower, but knew that was not professional. She was representing all of Pridea here, and just because she felt like ending this conversation for the sake of her sanity, did not mean that she could, or had any right to. Even though, a part of her longed to burst out and ask how Naraciss even knew of the Truthseekers, or did this woman herself merely know? It was something Pridea tried to keep under wraps… Curiosity took hold of her, and Mya decided on inquiring.

“Not many people know of our problem,” she muttered, and the woman’s eyes lit up, as if this was the comment that she had wanted to hear.

“I am not many people,” the white-haired woman clarified, with a sort of smugness that made Mya bite her lip in frustration. “Do not worry, however, it is only a select few of our own Council who know of your once-a-century problem. Do not think it is only your people who fear the Truthseekers though, it is we who fear them as well. I do believe that any world with half a mind would.” She seemed to cast her amethyst gaze towards Mya now, penetrating her soul, yet Mya continued on with her poker-face, attempting to betray no emotion. “We need to know if you have found this century’s Truthseeker yet. If the rumors are true, it is to be born soon. Or perhaps born already… Have you searched for it yet?”

“Our people’s actions are none of your concern, Sylvia.”

As the woman’s name was uttered out into the open, an open scowl was penciled across her features, a snarling emitting from her system, sounding more like a feline of prey than anything else. Her body stood up from the table, her hair and dress swaying with her as she stood, tall and proud, those amethyst eyes of hers darting about in what seemed to be hysteria. Her irises calmed down after a second or two, and as she stamped her boney hands downwards towards the table, Sylvia hissed, tilting her head towards Mya. “What gives you the right to speak my name?” she inquired with a snarl. “Who do you think you are?”

“Just a humble Pridean,” was her calm statement, and even Mya herself had to be proud of how incredibly calm she was keeping herself. Her statement was incredibly hypocritical, since there was a reason Pridea was called Pridea, just like Naraciss was called Naraciss. Their world had to packed with the proudest of people in the known universe, and there was always something someone from this world was insanely proud of. It was a character trait they adhered dearly. The statement, however, calmed Sylvia down, and she sat back down in her glass chair, resting her elbows on the table again, as if nothing had happened.

“Rest assured, our officials are keeping an eye out for any suspicious behavioral patterns that could point out to the Truthseeker. However, you offering to help us is completely out of the question. If you cannot defend yourselves without our help, how much good do you think your people would be to us?” Such bold statements were not the norm for Mya, but after she had seen how easily Sylvia could snap, the woman didn’t seem like much of a threat anymore. Her own crystal blue eyes looked up at the Naracissian’s, and saw that they were filled with utter hatred. Sylvia’s boney fingers ground themselves together, twitching, trying to contain herself, which made Mya wonder if all Naracissians had bad tempers. She expected an explosion of rage, to be honest, and contemplated how she was going to fix the glass building if it shattered to pieces (which could happen if one screamed loudly enough) and how in the world she was going to land safely from a position this high. However, it seemed as if Sylvia did not wish to scream, and held in her bitter hatred. For now.

“You speak the truth.”

At this, a small sneer worked its way around the corners of her mouth, and Mya wondered if she should be wary. Sylvia stood up again from the table, but this time, she seemed more relaxed now. “It was foolish of me to question your actions against the Truthseeker…. I should’ve known that you lot would be more cautious against the threat than our people would - or could - be. They’re not brooding in our territory, at least.”

The meeting was not officially over, but perhaps it would be safe to assume that the woman was finally done with all of her inquiries. Trying insanely hard to ignore her last comment, Mya stood up from her own spot as well, pushing in the glass chair, which let off a small creaking noise. She frowned at it; the chair would have to be fixed, since most of the others did not let off such imperfect noises. Turning her head towards Sylvia, she noticed that the woman was merely standing in one place, her arms crossed, amethyst eyes tilted towards the Tower’s ceiling. It was engraved with a multitude of blue gems, the rare sapphire, by Pridea’s most talented architectures, and it was, indeed, a sight that most foreigners took the time to stare at.

“In all honesty,” Sylvia muttered, “I have always been intrigued by your world of glass. Your utopia, if you will. Perfect, in all senses of the word. With a dedicated Elite fighting force to protect it, and the most skilled and talented people that this universe has come to know. Perfection. I can say with an unabashed demeanor there is times when I envy your world.”

Her words sounded wholly true and sincere, for once, which was a rarity for someone like this foreigner. A slender finger outstretched itself to the ceiling, and, just barely, brushed against one of the sapphire stones engraved in the design, which let off an elegant shine. As she removed her gaze from the ceiling, her eyes locked onto Mya once again. There was something unnerving in her gaze that Mya was not able to place exactly, but she decided that it was venomous, and that no matter what, Sylvia could not be trusted.

“I have heard,” the foreigner began, “That you have recently had a child, about four years of age now? She is almost my daughter’s age, I believe… If it should be proper to ask, what is your daughter’s name? Perhaps one of these days, she will be on the Council herself, if she is anything like you.” Her eyes seemed to laugh, but why she wanted to know this information was beyond her. The white-haired woman lingered by the door, and it was evident that the only push she needed to leave was just this one bit of information. Just this one name, and this meeting would be over, and Mya wouldn’t have to see the foreigner again for a long while.

Hopefully.

“Selena,” Mya responded softly, recalling the child waiting for her back home. “Selena Rhea.”