Pay Your Dues Prose in The Centurion's Riddle | World Anvil

Pay Your Dues

The Dreamer flies on silent wing this evening, creeping slowly towards the gaseous planet of Bretheda, and a biological mass in its northern hemisphere. We see the abode of Confluence, surrounded by natural storms and manufactured lights, and dive deep inside...   Alexander Marcus strode down the long carpet between the chamber doors and Confluence's pulsing throne, his shadow trailing long behind him. The doors closed with a subtle click as the Barathu attendant all but fled the room, and the two of them were alone. Alexander had learned early on that Confluence's presence extended everywhere on this satellite, so rather than addressing the fleshy apparatus meant to represent it, Alexander addressed the room.   Alexander Marcus: "We miss you in our little chats, Confluence. Ever since I delivered Chad to you -- my half of our little bargain -- you've been a veritable ghost."   He put stress on the last word, letting it echo. The lights around the room flared and flashed in a random, rainbow assortment, which was meant to resemble Confluence thinking. It was all for show, like everything else in the chamber. When Confluence responded, it spoke with thousands of voices, a mix of all the minds that made up his intellectual mass.   Confluence: "We owe you no allegiance... We offered of ourselves for your little experiment, and now that piece has returned to us..."
Alexander Marcus: "Indeed. But what of the Access Beacon you were provided? Or the kidnapping of that Halfling--"
Confluence: "Qwen."   The correction was abrupt, and so very unlike the Barathu... Alexander smiled. His intelligence reports were correct -- the assimilation was not as smooth as Confluence would have its allies believe. The completion no longer an if, certainly, but by all means a when. So, it hadn't been avoiding House Marcus out of rebellion, but out of fear. To avoid showing weakness to the wolves.   A commendable effort, but one Alexander had no time for.   Alexander Marcus: "Right. I've come to collect. It's time to pay your dues."
Confluence: "Or?"   The Prime Executive did not warrant the jab with a response. He merely waited, tapping his finger on the top of his cane, one eyebrow raised in mock amusement. While the monarch of the Barathu was not easily cowed, moments without purpose were its antithesis, and so Alexander won by attrition.   Confluence: "We suppose your service to the Barathu has yet to be fully rewarded..."   Alexander's smile was sickly and wide. A cat with a mouse in its paws.   Alexander Marcus: "Excellent. Are you familiar with the City of Pleated Light?"   Confluence responded, but a burst of static covered his words. Alexander's shadow twirled, sensing something in the air...   The vision fades.

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