Solarite Caendoros Laniinae - Commorragh
Caendoros jumped from his seat and gripped the edge of his private viewing box. He loved the opera. The performers were Aeldari and they spoke an old and obscure dialect that Caendoros didn't know, but still he could understand them. Not the meaning of their words but of the raw emotion in their voice and physicality. It told him this was a comedy and the lead Harlequin had just sung something shockingly crude and very funny. One of his first distinct memories was attending one as a child. His father, Archon Uzmahli, had taken him to be used as bait. Caendoros ate decadent food and was given his own private viewing box. He didn’t know the story of the performance, they had arrived late and the opera was in an alien tongue. The strange creatures fluttered and skirted about the stage singing and cackling in their strange, melodic language. It was a tragedy that much he could ascertain even at his young age. One of the performers, a hairy insectoid with jeweled clothing, was scaling the small mountain on stage. His deep bass voice echoing through the massive hall and rattling the pristine crystal glasses Caendoros’ father sipped from. The creature wielded exotic weapons in three of his arms, their blades shimmered like oil. Its compound eyes focused on a small panicked creature at the peak. This performer was of a different breed, her skin smooth and limbs lithe. In their hands they held the dying figure of what Caendoros was sure had been their lover. She sang softly in a tenor and lovingly stroked the figure in her arms. Life blood poured from a massive rent in their side and flowed down the mountain. From this stream the insectoid actor suckled before continuing its way upwards. It held a threateningly long note, shaking the entire hall, as it crested the peak and readied itself to finish off the remaining lover.
Caendoros jumped from his seat and held onto the edge of the viewing box, his knuckles white with anticipation. The orchestra ascended in pitch and frequency to a feverish level. The tenor let the dead lover slip from her arms and rose to face her insectoid pursuer. As the creature launched itself forward at a frightening speed, blades arching out like deadly stingers the orchestra abruptly cut off. The moment seemed to hang in time, Caendoros could hear the blood pumping in his ears. The tenor then jumped, narrowly avoiding the blades and began to plummet off the mountain until she flew. Great white wings spread out from her back and just meters from the ground she swung upwards and broke into a hauntingly beautiful aria. There were no instruments, no sound but the tragic voice of the tenor as she flew outward, over the crowd and past the private viewing boxes. Caendoros didn’t know the words she sang but he understood the meaning.
The rest of that memory was blurred in his mind. There was a commotion behind him and before Caendoros could register what had happened he felt a terrible pain in his back. He convulsed and seized on the marble floor biting his own tongue and slamming his skull. As tears filled his eyes he saw the fading figure of his father and bodyguards strike out at the assassin. Caendoros had awoken sometime later, alone in the black laboratories. He thought immediately of the tenor and her tragic aria.
Movement caught his attention. He turned to Tarkor-Vel and his Kroot who had shifted towards the door. A rune signaled and Tarkor gestured and the door was opened. Siojinn bowed, his membranous wings gently unfolded outward.
“Solarite Caendoros.”
Caendoros simply nodded in response and turned back to the stage. Siojinn recognized the obvious slight and stiffened his back.
“You are summoned at Vivek’s Folly. Words from friends beyond the city.”
“They can wait. I’ve only just arrived.”
Siojinn approached under careful scrutiny of the Kroot guards. He looked down onto the stage. A Harlequin sang a horrible contralto as they crawled gutted on the steps of the temple. Caendoros laughed. He loved the opera.
Caendoros jumped from his seat and gripped the edge of his private viewing box. He loved the opera. The performers were Aeldari and they spoke an old and obscure dialect that Caendoros didn't know, but still he could understand them. Not the meaning of their words but of the raw emotion in their voice and physicality. It told him this was a comedy and the lead Harlequin had just sung something shockingly crude and very funny. One of his first distinct memories was attending one as a child. His father, Archon Uzmahli, had taken him to be used as bait. Caendoros ate decadent food and was given his own private viewing box. He didn’t know the story of the performance, they had arrived late and the opera was in an alien tongue. The strange creatures fluttered and skirted about the stage singing and cackling in their strange, melodic language. It was a tragedy that much he could ascertain even at his young age. One of the performers, a hairy insectoid with jeweled clothing, was scaling the small mountain on stage. His deep bass voice echoing through the massive hall and rattling the pristine crystal glasses Caendoros’ father sipped from. The creature wielded exotic weapons in three of his arms, their blades shimmered like oil. Its compound eyes focused on a small panicked creature at the peak. This performer was of a different breed, her skin smooth and limbs lithe. In their hands they held the dying figure of what Caendoros was sure had been their lover. She sang softly in a tenor and lovingly stroked the figure in her arms. Life blood poured from a massive rent in their side and flowed down the mountain. From this stream the insectoid actor suckled before continuing its way upwards. It held a threateningly long note, shaking the entire hall, as it crested the peak and readied itself to finish off the remaining lover.
Caendoros jumped from his seat and held onto the edge of the viewing box, his knuckles white with anticipation. The orchestra ascended in pitch and frequency to a feverish level. The tenor let the dead lover slip from her arms and rose to face her insectoid pursuer. As the creature launched itself forward at a frightening speed, blades arching out like deadly stingers the orchestra abruptly cut off. The moment seemed to hang in time, Caendoros could hear the blood pumping in his ears. The tenor then jumped, narrowly avoiding the blades and began to plummet off the mountain until she flew. Great white wings spread out from her back and just meters from the ground she swung upwards and broke into a hauntingly beautiful aria. There were no instruments, no sound but the tragic voice of the tenor as she flew outward, over the crowd and past the private viewing boxes. Caendoros didn’t know the words she sang but he understood the meaning.
The rest of that memory was blurred in his mind. There was a commotion behind him and before Caendoros could register what had happened he felt a terrible pain in his back. He convulsed and seized on the marble floor biting his own tongue and slamming his skull. As tears filled his eyes he saw the fading figure of his father and bodyguards strike out at the assassin. Caendoros had awoken sometime later, alone in the black laboratories. He thought immediately of the tenor and her tragic aria.
Movement caught his attention. He turned to Tarkor-Vel and his Kroot who had shifted towards the door. A rune signaled and Tarkor gestured and the door was opened. Siojinn bowed, his membranous wings gently unfolded outward.
“Solarite Caendoros.”
Caendoros simply nodded in response and turned back to the stage. Siojinn recognized the obvious slight and stiffened his back.
“You are summoned at Vivek’s Folly. Words from friends beyond the city.”
“They can wait. I’ve only just arrived.”
Siojinn approached under careful scrutiny of the Kroot guards. He looked down onto the stage. A Harlequin sang a horrible contralto as they crawled gutted on the steps of the temple. Caendoros laughed. He loved the opera.