Empire Reborn (Taran Empire Saga Book 1): A Cadicle Space Opera by A.K. DuBoff (brene brown rising strong .txt) 📗

“A material with utility. Crystal. Specifically, toradite crystal is often used as a focusing aperture for telekinetic powers; some types are the next best thing to ateron. When we seized the island and the Priesthood made their final stand, there was that column of energy. I was so focused on the telepathic link, and, well, not dying, that it never occurred to me they may have been using a relay hub, in the way we use the Conquest.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with this?” Cris asked as he jogged behind Wil.

“The position of that beam. It was a beacon pointing us right to where we need to go. We’re almost directly under it.”

Saera’s brow furrowed. “So, it’s…?”

Wil reached the elevator and waited for the others to get in before hitting the door controls. “That’s why I had the feeling it was here. Subconsciously, I probably detected the properties of the material, and I may have even seen inscriptions. I bet the thing is written in some form of Old Taran, which was the Priesthood’s language, so it wouldn’t have stood out at the time.”

Saera was starting to look excited. “Okay, but what object are you talking about?”

Wil smiled. “I saw it during the tour yesterday! And it didn’t even occur to me it might be what we were looking for.”

“Where?!” Saera and Cris asked in unison.

“In the Sanctuary. The foking centerpiece.” Wil couldn’t help laughing to himself. I walked right past it and didn’t think twice. I was so intent on the idea that it was hidden away in a locked room that it never occurred to me it might be there in plain sight.

“Stars!” Cris breathed.

Saera laughed. “Okay, I feel like an idiot for missing that.”

“Oh, me too,” Wil agreed. “Of course a treaty with a race of transdimensional beings would be inscribed on a rare material with such unique properties.”

It made perfect sense. The Priesthood was corrupt, but they were never stupid. Their historians were always thorough in their accounting of Taran history through the ages, filtering what made it out to the public. But they knew the ‘truth’, as they chose to interpret it. So, the notion that something as important as the treaty had simply been lost was ridiculous, and he felt silly for ever thinking that was a possibility. Far more reasonable was that the Priesthood would have known the significance of the artifact and wanted it close at hand. More than that, though, they would have appreciated the utility of it. Seen it as a tangible connection to the higher dimensions, to help them achieve the ascension they so desperately wanted. So, they used it as a tool, placed at the center of their operations.

The moment the elevator doors opened, the three of them dashed toward the Sanctuary. As Raena had noted during her tour, it was the only space that had remained largely untouched since the Priesthood was ousted. By far the most striking remnant of the Priesthood’s theological roots, the Sanctuary reminded Wil of the ornate cathedrals he’d seen on Earth in historic European cities. The paintings and engravings on the walls and arched ceiling were priceless works of art, and Raena and Ryan had been right to leave it intact.

Centered in the middle of the room, positioned beneath a skylight to catch the light, was a life-sized prismatic glass statue of a robed figure with one arm reaching toward the stars. The statue was on top of a pedestal, capped with a circular piece of pale blue toradite crystal divided into thirds, each with beautiful engravings that had stood the test of time. Much of the circle was covered up by the sculpture, so it naturally wouldn’t draw attention.

Now, primed for it as they approached, Wil felt the energy radiating from the circular piece at the base. Perhaps the most important document in Taran history, and they used the thing as a bomaxed tabletop. He laughed again, shaking his head. So typical of the Priesthood. Fokers.

“Stars, that really could be it!” Cris approached the statue with new reverence.

There was a strange humor to it. The statue depicted an imagined version of the Cadicle—the symbolic figure Wil was in the flesh, as far as the Priesthood and Aesir were concerned. According to their doctrine, the Cadicle represented the next stage of Taran evolution in terms of superior genetics and abilities; though, while Wil’s Gifts were undeniably advanced, he’d never considered himself particularly iconic. Nevertheless, it figured that this ancient avatar of himself would be standing on the exact pivotal piece of history he’d been trying to locate for months.

The irony wasn’t lost on Cris and Saera, and they exchanged amused glances.

Wil sighed. “You don’t need to say it.”

Saera smirked. “What, that the fate of the galaxy is at your feet?”

“Or that you stand up on principles?” Cris chimed in.

Wil resisted the urge to wipe his hands down his face. “Yeah, something like that.”

Before any more wordplay could threaten to derail their mission, Wil telekinetically lifted the statue off the pedestal and placed it gently on the floor out of the way.

The three of them huddled around the inscribed toradite crystal. Two-thirds of the circle were incomprehensible symbols, but the other did appear to be Old Taran, as Wil suspected.

“It’s like a Rosetta Stone,” Saera said.

Cris cocked his head. “What’s that?”

“A tablet on Earth—allowed translation of a dead language. If this is Old Taran, then you might be able to make some sense of these alien languages.”

Wil nodded. “In written form, anyway. We have no idea how it’s supposed to sound.”

“Oh, good point.” She frowned.

“But what matters now is what our side says.” He began reading over the text to make sure it was what they suspected. The language was difficult to make out but readable. It appeared to