TRANSMISSION 015
One of Our Own
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“Blood is not merely life force.
It is memory made living…
A library carried beneath the skin.
The body forgets.
Blood does not.”
From Naiya in Threa
Cycle 4-Month 5 | Sundrift
(Approx. Earth Date: September 13, 2025)
My name is Naiya.
I send this to you from Threa—a mirror world.
As I told you before, the Amaris kept records of everything to preserve their existence. To them, true death was not the ceasing of breath, but the forgetting. They believed that as long as your memory lived—as long as even one person carried you within them—you were not truly dead.
Blood was sacred to the Amaris. It was more than a life force. They believed it carried the memories of their ancestors. Every experience, every piece of wisdom attained by one Amari was recorded in the blood and passed down through generations. Their children were born already knowing, already aware of their history and purpose.
This is how they evolved faster than most. Knowledge was never lost, only accumulated over millions of years.
But blood could also become a burden.
When the original Amari volunteers mated with humans, the Council reacted with fury. Sacred blood was flowing in bodies it was never intended for. The Council was right to fear the consequences. Hybrids were hunted and exploited for their lineage, their lives altered forever.
It was this burden that placed Makael in an impossible situation, destroying his home and nearly killing him in the process.
However, without that mixing, their present, past, and future would have been erased entirely.
What I share with you now is taken from the pages of Makael’s diary. These are his words exactly as they were recorded.
[Journal Entry | MAKAEL ]
Translated from the Old Language. Selected expressions have been rendered in modern phrasing for clarity.
I don’t know how much time has passed in the recovery centre. It seems I was the only one left. Most Amaris healed quickly and were sent away to reunite with their families.
In those first days, I was barely awake before sleep claimed me again and again. Every time I tried to hold a conversation—or worse, move around–I would become so weak my eyes would fall shut against my will.
When Lythia disabled the healing bed and I tried to stand, my legs refused me. Even with Lythia and Ameni bracing my weight, I collapsed like a child who hasn’t learned to walk. Lythia assured me it would pass. She said it was a good sign I could even push myself up at all.
“Your Amari blood is working overtime to help your body adapt to this dimension,” she explained. “Without it, your body would have combusted the moment the craft broke the veil.”
She paused, watching me carefully.
“Human blood hasn’t evolved for interdimensional travel yet. The human body isn’t built for this.”
She still refused to explain the strange blue symbol she’d shown me. I stopped pressing. I realized I’d have better luck with Ameni.
One day, news came that the Council Elders were scheduled to visit the centre. They were coming to honor the healers for helping the people recover from the devastating events.
The same day, Lythia brought a strange new vial, a deeper hue than the rest. I drank it because it was easier than arguing. And she’d just find another way to give it to me. I was helpless in this bed, completely at her mercy.
I woke in a dim room to the sound of water.
I was in the same bed, but clearly in a different place. The air felt different. This room was pleasant. Plants of vibrant colors adorned the walls and the floor. I could hear a faint, harmonic sound. It wasn’t music, at least not any kind I recognized. There were no instruments, just a series of vibrating, glass-like tones that seemed to pulse from the walls themselves. Water flowed down from the far wall in a gentle cascade.
The Amaris believed water should always be in motion, always flowing. It was essential to their architecture. Every space, every home had some form of it.
Water was sacred to them. Where we relied on it to quench thirst, to clean ourselves, to grow our food…to the Amaris, it was life itself.
They spoke to it in reverence one might give a god. They asked it to heal them. They whispered their secrets and memories to the flow. They would spend time each day immersed in it, or simply sitting beside it, letting their fingers and feet trail over the surface. I was so lost in the sound of the cascade that I didn’t hear the door open.
“Ah, you’re finally awake. We were getting worried.”
Ameni’s voice pulled me back. He came closer, smiling at the confusion on my face.
“Where is this?”
“Welcome home.” He gestured to the lush walls. “This is your sanctuary.”
“We’re not in the recovery center?”
“No.” He placed a small cup in my hand. “Drink.”
I took a sip. It was a warm beverage I’d never tasted before. My muscles relaxed instantly.
“Can everyone stop sedating me?” I said, taking another sip.
Ameni laughed. “To tell you the truth, I am against it. But Aren told Ilys about your condition, and Ilys told Lythia. So—” He sat down in the chair next to the bed, leaning back and placing his hands behind his head. “—I’m outnumbered.” He studied me for a moment. “Personally, I’m very curious to see what you’re like unsedated.”
“My condition? What did he tell her?”
“Not much. Only that your emotions must be kept stable.” He paused, his blue eyes glowing in the dim light. “I’m assuming there is more.”
He leaned forward. “What can you tell me?”
I met his gaze but held my tongue. If Aren hadn’t seen fit to share the truth, it was safer to keep it to myself.
“It has something to do with my human blood,” I said casually. “I’m still trying to understand it.”
It wasn’t a complete lie, but I needed a distraction. I searched desperately for a way to change the subject.
Ameni tilted his head. “Yes, I thought so at first, but–”
“Why are your eyes blue?” I interrupted, blurting out the question that had been on my mind since I first saw him.
He blinked, looking surprised. “I’m sorry?”
“Why are your eyes blue?” I repeated. “All the Amaris I’ve seen have golden eyes. You’re the first I’ve met with blue eyes.”
“Ah.” He went still for a moment, then nodded slowly. “You were at the capital, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What do you know about the Amaris?”
“I know your people came here long ago after a terrible war destroyed your world.”
“Your people? Your world?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re one of us too, Makael.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t bother telling him to call me Kael anymore. All of them–Ilys, Lythia, Ameni —pretended they didn’t hear me when I asked. They persisted in calling me Makael. I’d given up.
“Is that all they told you?”
“Yes.” We were focused on learning their way of life, not their history. They also didn’t trust me enough to tell me more about themselves. I didn’t blame them. I wouldn’t trust an outsider either.
“Well, that’s true.” He leaned back, his voice taking on the cadence of a storyteller. “Ayaleth, our old home, was a triple-star system with three inhabited worlds.”
“The golden-eyed, as you call them, lived on two of those worlds. They were the original beings of Ayaleth and naturally, the leaders. The blue-eyed lived on the third and were the strategists and scholars of our civilization.”
He paused, and something shifted in his expression, a mixture of pride and ancient sorrow. “I am a child of both worlds. My mother was from the blue world. My father, the gold.”
He turned his head toward the wall, watching the shimmering descent of the water.
I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.
“When the Great War happened, my mother’s people were fortunate enough to flee to Threa with the other Amaris.” He turned back to me. “Our families have always been close, Makael. Lythia’s too. I’m sure she’s already told you that.”
“No, she didn’t. Where is she?”
“She’ll be here soon with your medicine. We had to move you before the Council arrived.”
“They don’t know I’m here?”
“No. According to the records, you perished in the chaos. We intend to keep it that way.”
“What if someone tells them? I’m sure people saw me on the craft and I am shorter than you all. People will know.”
“They won’t.” Ilys appeared at the door. She gave her husband a sharp look. “Ameni, you were sent to check on him, not interrogate him. He needs to rest.”
Ameni stood and grinned.
“He’s stronger than you think.”
Ilys walked over and pressed a cool hand to my forehead. “The fever is down. That’s a relief.”
“I’m feeling alright.” I tried to reassure her.
She didn’t look convinced.
“How can you be so sure no one will talk?” I asked her. “If the Council finds me, they’ll know I was involved in what happened. They’ll kill me.”
“You’re in the Guardian’s Town now. You are safe here. Our people will protect you. No one will say a word.” She placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “All you need to focus on is your recovery.”
“But if they come here–”
“The Council is not in control anymore, Makael,” Ameni interrupted.
I stared at him. The firmness in his voice startled me. The cheerful mask had slipped, revealing something much older and harder underneath.
“Ameni, not now,” Ilys warned.
“What do you mean?” I looked between them. “What do you mean they aren’t in control?”
Ameni opened his mouth, then closed it at Ilys’s expression. He sighed and stepped back.
Ilys turned back to me, her tone gentler now.
“We will explain everything when you are stronger. I promise. For now, rest.”
I was sick of resting. Sick of sleeping while the world changed. Sick of not being able to do anything when there was so much I wanted to do, so much I wanted to know. How could I ask anything when they all treated me like I might drop dead at any moment?
Ameni must have seen something in my expression because his cheerful demeanor returned like the sun breaking through clouds.
“Relax, brother. You look so much like Aren, we’ll just tell people you are Aren. Simple!”
I blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the absurdity.
He grinned. “Though if anyone notices you’re shorter, we’ll just blame it on a Meiolith. Very tragic, really.”
“A …what?”
“An ancient creature that shrinks anything it bites,” Ilys explained, shaking her head at her husband before turning to me. “An old story used to scare children into staying in bed.”
“Ameni, that’s ridiculous,” she added, but I caught the hint of amusement in her eyes.
“What? I’m only trying to help!” He held up his hands in mock surrender.
Despite my frustration, I felt my mouth twitch. Ameni reminded me of my siblings—that same annoying, persistent ability to find a joke in the middle of a disaster.
“See? He can smile!” Ameni looked triumphant. “He’ll be fine, Ilys.”
His gaze softened as our eyes met. “Truly, Makael. You’re safe here. No one will betray you. The people of this town would sooner cut out their own tongues than hurt the grandson of Kaelon.”
“You should both leave now.”
Lythia’s voice rang through the room. I was glad to see her.
Ilys smiled and squeezed my hand before dragging Ameni out.
Lythia began her examination. The healing bed gave her all the details of what was happening inside me. There was nothing I could hide from the bed. It listened and adapted to whatever Lythia told it to do.
“Do you know what they meant?” I asked her, already knowing she’d ignore the question and make me sleep. “About the Council?”
After a few minutes, she looked at me.
“You’re doing better than I expected.”
“Please.” I reached out, catching her hand. “Tell me.”
“It’s true.” Lythia said, her eyes fixed on me. “New Ayaleth is under the control of the Blue Guardians. The Council doesn’t know it…yet.”
She turned to the bed’s display.
“Who are the Blue Guardians?”
“Aren didn’t tell you?” She sounded surprised.
“No.”
“I shouldn’t be the one to tell you. It should come from your family”
“No…please,” my voice cracked. “They won’t tell me anything because they think I’m too weak to handle it.”
“They’re right,” she said, her voice softening but remaining firm. “There is a great deal of history, and your mind cannot process more until it stabilizes. Your body is already overcompensating, working at its limit just to keep you functioning. Show yourself some grace, Makael.”
She handed me the opaque liquid I learned was for deep recovery. For the kind of sleep that feels like a temporary death.
“I’m tired of waiting,” I muttered, taking the vial. I swallowed it in a single gulp. “How long is this going to take?”
The room was already beginning to blur at the edges. The plants seemed to melt into shadows.
“As long as it takes.” Lythia whispered. “We are going to make sure you can exist here.”
Silence.
“I will make sure of it.”
Her promise was the last thing I heard before the familiar darkness took me.
For the first time in days, the voices that haunted my dreams were gone.
End of Transmission 015
Read Transmission 016
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