“You are… him, yes?” asks the grotesque creature, a breath like cold smoke heaving out his blistered lips.  

I’ve read of his kind before in the Palace library, orange skin and shaved horns, with dirty white fur reminiscent of an aged goat. A Caprin, a species of mountain herders residing in a backwater planet some hundred thousand light years from the capital.

Used to be, their world was a verdant land of trees, flowers and naturally breeding species born generation after generation instead of in batches with serial numbers. A world without metal womb tanks and the classifying devices of the Empire’s system, well, at least until Father decided to add them to his collection.

“The exiled prince … that is you, correct?” The Caprin asks, leaning forward into the dim light of the ion torch. I’m able to make out the red bead embedded in his clawed hands, as well the brands that mark him as a slave.

I don’t need a Reader to know that his species is of the lowest of the low. Far, far beneath those of my stature, or at least that’s how it would’ve been, if not for recent events. I’m still prejudiced mind you, the brown sheen of dirt and the rotting shit on the goat like creature evokes a sense of putrid disgust. His back is bent and layered with popped humps coloured green from disease and loose muscles with one oblong, dissolving eye that appears almost like spilling slime rather than anything solid.

Very much unlike the pristine silver of how my own skin used to be, of how my dark irises would glow with the deep, intelligence of the Icaranai, one of the twelve species deemed worthy enough to hold the Emperor’s seed. But that was only half of my heritage, the one given to me by my mother, the other being the golden ambrosia that once flowed through my veins, the blood of the Emperor.  

Alas, all of that is gone now.

“You are disgusted of me, yes?” says the Caprin, no sign of mockery on his face, only resigned reality.

“But know this prince, you are no longer of those God’s watching down with impunity. You have fallen, and only just begun to know the depths of despair that lie in wait for those who are punished with exile. It is best you shed such notions of superiority. They will not serve you well in the lands beyond this wall.”

I sigh with difficulty, touching my skin and feeling the raw scales in them. The patches of red are still prickly and draw blood with each stroke of my finger. Every part of me is ugly now, like a rash almost, and filled with oozing puss. No longer is my skin the heralded silver, so proclaimed by those sycophants of the Empire’s court to be the most beautiful among my kind. No longer would those cowardly Imperial scholars quake in my presence, fearful of my gold blood and the depth of power hidden beneath.

I have been stripped of all that makes me special.

Now I am nothing. A husk too afraid to take his own life.  

All of this because of that stupid woman.

“Has she arrived yet?” I ask, worried my appearance has altered my ability to speak. Thankfully, my voice flows smoothly albeit with a few cracks in between. Especially surprising, considering how much I had to scream when they sheared the silver and drained the Ambrosia.  

“Yes, your mother arrived quite some time ago,” says the Caprin. “One of the Icaranai transport ships along with Grand Chieftain Daran left her here. Not a word spoken between either of them. Though, I will say, she was treated with the same esteem as they do one of their princesses.”

I nod, I suppose grandfather still cares for Mother in some way no matter how it has been since he has seen her or the events that have transpired. I wish I could say the same about me, unfortunately, the Icaranai tribe no longer consider me as one of their own. Truthfully, it is a miracle I managed to get to the edge of the Empire in the allocated time period. Being as weak as I am now and without a penny to my name, it was more than likely I would have either been murdered for non-existent scraps of change or captured and turned into a slave.

I sigh, I guess am indebted to older brother Venkov for guaranteeing my safe passage, although I wonder why he cares so much. He and I never had much familial bond, especially considering he is a product of the Emperor’s Ambrosia and the Farhedran. Those tribe of blue skins never got along with the Icaranai, always butting horns on anything and everything.       

I have to add, none of those previously mentioned fates of being murdered or enslaved could’ve compared to the one unleashed upon me, if the Emperor’s dogs still found me lingering within the boundaries of his domain a second longer than I had been permitted. I still remember the harsh face of Chancellor Ivangor as he spoke the words of the royal decree, just as the Executioner burrowed his tongs of fire in my flesh, melting the silver metal that made up my skin, matching his words during the few moments of respite when my screams did not reach a crescendo.    

“High Prince Dern, child of silver and gold, for the crimes of enacting treason upon our customs and daring to set free the Emperor’s property, you have been sentenced to exile to the prison lands, effective exactly seven days and seven nights hence. May it be known to one and all that you hereby stripped of your race and blood, rank and title and banished from ever again setting foot in the civilized universe.”  

The property in question was my mother. Or maybe it would be better to call her the woman that gave birth to me, it isn’t as though I have any feelings for her or her, me. In all ways apart from the first few months of life where I suckled her breasts, we truly are strangers. And even back then, I consider it a marvel she hadn’t strangled me to death.

I still don’t know why I did what I did, a foolish thing indeed to sacrifice all that I was in the name of securing her freedom and still yet spectacularly fail. Though now that I think about it, maybe the whole shenanigan wasn’t a complete failure.

Mother is free now- not free to live, not free to laugh, not free to love. Those types of freedoms don’t exist in the prison lands as far I know. But she is free from Father, and in many ways that is a victory or at the very least, the only victory I could secure for her as her ‘son’.

Anything more than that, she will have to find for herself.   

“Has she gone yet? To the prison lands, I mean?”

The Caprin nods, “Your mother asked for it specifically, to leave before you had arrived.”   

I bite my lips, I had expected this and, in any case, I would not have done anything more for her. Everything I owed to her for giving birth to me has already been paid back in full.

“Tell me, Caprin, are there any records of the prison lands.” I ask.

Previously, I scoured through all of the tomes in the palace library and the any mention of the Planet Vorhim and the worm hole within were scant at best. Nothing beyond children’s stories, each one mentioning only that it is a place where of deformation, reconstruction and damnation.

Poignant words without substance.

The only consistent finding was that it was a dumping ground for dangerous individuals, although depending on the Empire’s definition, it could very well be anyone. Admittedly, in the last century or so, the Empire has convicted too many to exile without proper reason.

The Caprin coughs, dragging his nailed claws over his chest and promptly scratching a hump. It takes all my will power not to avert my eyes. Nothing good will come of offending him. 

“No written records Prince. No verbal ones either. All who enter that place never return. But I will tell you, it will be dangerous. More so, than any calamity you have faced thus far.”

I nod, disappointed but at least I know enough to understand that caution is paramount. I peer down, seeing the cracked bead embedded in my right hand. It is different from the one the Caprin holds, lighter in shade and although broken, it holds within an unparalleled glimmer.    

System, I whisper.

Name: Gern

Species: Icaranai Ambros (Nulled)

Class: Superifacta (Nulled)

Blood: Ambrosia (Nulled)

Body: Silver Armor (Nulled)

Status: Enfeebled (Permanent)

I choke back the revulsion before waving the interface away, nothing more could be done now. Reaching down, I dig my thumb and forefinger into the scrap of flesh hidden underneath the crystal, and start pulling it out. Immediately, a flare of pain causes my eyebrows to wrinkle and sets my heart palpitating.

The crystal comes out with a dab of pink flesh hinged to its bottom, and a trail of black blood spills down, showering the floor and turning it putrid. I wheeze from the effort. The system devices are sacred, almost a religious symbol in some ways- the representation of the immovable laws within the Empire.

I put the crystal in front of the Caprin.   

“Take it.” I say.

I notice how his dull eyes are now filled with greed. A system device of the Superifacta class, even broken it should fetch him enough to buy himself out of slavery. Besides power, money is one of the few things that can move the apathetic hearts of his slave masters.

“Are you sure?” the Caprin asks, pausing his outstretched hand midway.

I am surprised by his concern. Most of the ones in his position would not bother with such frivolities. I look at the indent in my right hand, still the black blood flows, thick and half coagulated. It would not be right to say that I am unbothered, growing up in the rigidity of the system, I took pride in the strength granted to me. Pride in the power presented by birth right.

But, what good does longing for the past do? Even more so when it is no longer attainable. Best to discard the identity of the old and forge a new one in the path ahead.

“Yes, keep it.” I say, placing the crystal in the Caprin’s hand.

He looks at it, and then quickly hides it in the folds of his ragged robes. “Thank you, Prince. I am grateful.”

I nod, now fully aware of what is to come. I quell the rising fear and disperse any lingering regret.

“Now, lead me to the pit.”