Season 1: Episode 5 – The Blood in the House

This series contains mature themes and is intended for adult listeners.

>Begin Porta Cor imprint.<

Day…well, I have lost count of what day it is since I’ve been here.

They just brought in breakfast, so I now have uninterrupted time to continue sharing what happened.

They say if you record your sins, you might find absolution. I don’t seek absolution. I seek truth.

The truth is: we didn’t fail to stop the slavery of humans. We enabled it.

And when the cost finally came due, it was paid in the blood of those we loved.

This is the memory of the day I stopped being silent. The day I learned that neutrality in the face of evil is complicity.

The council break was supposed to last another week. I was supposed to be tending roses with Afanen. Instead, I stood in an emergency session, listening to words that should have started a war long before this moment.

“Let me make sure I understand what you’re saying. The continent of Tukdurin now has humans running through the streets, taking over some of the cities. One of our own councilors, Bariaeth, has been killed by a human who was brought here against his will and managed to break free. You’re telling me that’s an isolated incident?” Okay, maybe my voice wasn’t entirely calm outside, but I tried.

Mallaidh lifted her hand to me, “Bryn, we need to calm down. Yes, there have been incidents, but…”

“Incidents?” I quirked an eyebrow and looked down at my notes, “I pulled the Porta Segreta transport logs this morning just before this session. Do you know how many humans officially crossed over from Earth to Anturia last month?”

“Forty-three.”

“On her way here, Dahlfia told me she witnessed about two hundred in the streets and households across Teithia in the last week. So either our record-keeping abilities have suddenly become catastrophically incompetent, or someone has been altering the logs.”

Oswalt stood up and nodded, a little uncomfortable, perhaps more so than usual, I noticed, “Our records do show irregularities across the board.”

“Irregularities?” I said, more sharply than I intended.

I pulled out some papers, “I have reports here of humans being transported across all regions of Anturia; all communities are impacted. I have documentation and historical records of some cities having markets – MARKETS – where they offer humans up to Anturians “for a good home.” They’re using words like private sponsorship and enhancing the human element. But I think we all know that Anturians are b…”

Murithir stood abruptly, cutting me off before the word could leave my mouth, “The terms are clearly defined in their voluntary contracts.”

“Voluntary? If I bound you and dragged you to my house and told you from here on out, you were going to live under my roof and be fed as long as you did your job and stayed in line, otherwise, you would starve in the streets, would you consider that voluntary? A voluntary servant! What a notion!”

Mallaidh looked at me with a harsh gaze, “Careful, Bryn! You’re making accusations without…”

I shook my head to shake her off, “I am demanding accountability. Names. Locations. An explanation for how thousands of humans are here when we agreed to limit contact. Who authorized this? And why didn’t anyone tell this council?” I would not be swayed from my path.

Mallaidh flipped her notebook closed and smiled placatingly at me, “We’ll look into it and make a report.”

That’s when I knew we’d look into it: we already knew the answers, and we weren’t going to say anything or stop it. They didn’t let me get the word buying out today. They wanted it reframed with softer, kinder words. That’s what evil does. It makes comfortable language its ally.

Later that day, after work and meeting with Dahlfia, I decided to stop by Oswalt’s house to go over some papers and review the discrepancies I’d found with the ones he’d seen, so we could compare notes and get a real assessment of what was going on here.

The three missing humans were no longer the concern. We had so many more. Therefore, we councilors no longer had guards walking with us.

What I found behind that door destroyed any illusion that this could still be fixed quietly.

I knocked on the door, and Siriolaf opened it with a bright smile for me. “Bryn! What a pleasant surprise. I’m so happy to see you. Come on in!”

I stepped inside the doorway, and she closed the door behind me.

“Elian, set another table place for our guest for dinner!” She called out to the kitchen.

I looked in that direction and expected to see Oswalt, but instead my eyes fell on something else entirely. A human male, mid-twenties in Earth years, with dark skin and intelligent eyes. He was grabbing dishes and then moving to the dining room to set the table. He moved through Oswalt’s home like he had been there for some time. Maybe he had.

She saw me watching him and then looked from him to me again, “Isn’t he wonderful? I found him at the Court Square market. They said he needed a home, and I certainly needed help around here. Oswalt is so busy with his council work, and I cannot possibly maintain this home and garden all alone.”

I chewed my bottom lip a little. “Mistress Siriolaf, will she be having the wine as well?” The human came before her and asked.

Mistress? That word hit hard when I heard it. I looked around, “Where’s Oswalt?” I asked suddenly.

“He should be here any minute, Bryn. He had a few things to wrap up at the office, but I do know he was on his way here.”

Just then, Oswalt came into the house from the front door and saw me and stopped short. “Bryn! I didn’t expect you so early.” He looked around nervously, his eyes shifting from Siriolaf to the human now setting a wine glass at the table setting he placed for me.

Then he looked back at me. “Tell me about this market, Siriolaf,” I asked her with Oswalt now in the room.

“Oh, they have it twice a week now. Humans who are trapped here on Anturia get housing and food in exchange for work. It’s so organized. They even provide training. Elian came here already with a human version of a nomen chip and knows how to use our creation machines. It’s like he’s always been here.”

We moved into the dining room, and as he pulled out my chair, I noticed bruises around his wrist. They were faint, as if they were old and fading.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I should have said something, but I looked up into Oswalt’s face, and his eyes were pleading. Terrified. And I closed my mouth.

I looked back down at my plate. The food tasted like ash. Small talk was all I could manage.

When I finished eating, I excused myself from the table to wash my hands. As I passed by the doorway to his office, I saw Elian browsing through papers on Oswalt’s desk. He looked up. Our eyes met. He didn’t move. Didn’t look guilty. Just watched me. I kept walking.

After dinner, we all left the table, and Oswalt and I retreated to his office. I closed the door behind me when I entered after him.

Oswalt came up to me with his hands trembling, “I know what you’re thinking.” He started.

“Do you?” I asked him.

“It wasn’t my idea. Siriolaf brought him home three days ago. I came home from the office, and he was just…there. She was so happy. She said all her friends have at least one human in the house now. It’s normal. It…”

“Oswalt,” I interrupted him, “He has bruises on his wrists.”

“I didn’t know Bryn, I didn’t realize…”

“I know, Oswalt.” It was true. Oswalt could never envision a world where one sentient being would harm another. It’s not in his way of thinking.

“There’s something else.” I paused and then decided to tell him, “I saw him in your office reading your council notes when I went to wash my hands.”

Oswalt looked horror-stricken. “He shouldn’t be able to.” He stammered.

“Siriolaf told me they were implanted with nomen chips. How do you think we can communicate with him back and forth like this? He doesn’t speak our language naturally.”

“What do we do?” He asked me.

“Well, if there are this many going around Teithia and a market, something needs to be done to stop it.”

“Can I call a council meeting tomorrow?” Oswalt suggested.

I nodded. “Yes, full disclosure. We must demand an immediate moratorium and recall of all humans brought here outside of original agreements.”

Oswalt sucked in a sharp breath, “They’ll never agree with this, Bryn.”

“We’ll have to make them.”

The next morning, this new emergency session was packed. Word had spread, and everyone realized things were breaking. I wasn’t the only one who felt urgency. The question was: did I have the majority on my side?

Oswalt called the emergency session on my behalf, so I stood at the podium to start, which I’m sure irritated Mallaidh. I couldn’t bring myself to look over at her and instead faced out to the sea of councilors as I spoke.

“I move for a complete stop of all human transport to Anturia. I move for the recall of all humans brought here under pretenses. And I move for full public disclosure of how many humans are currently on Anturia and under what conditions they’re living.”

There was an audible gasp and murmurs from the councilors.

Dahlfia stood up, “I second.”

Mallaidh stood up, “This is unnecessary panic.”

Dahlfia interjected, “My neighbor is missing, the famous singer, Rhialda. The furniture in her house is all smashed up. Human weapons from her creation machine were all over the house. The front door is full of blood. Councilor Eira is also missing, and her family is trying to find her as we speak. I have scans of Rhialda’s house if anyone wants to see them.”

I looked from Dahlfia to Mallaidh, “Tell me how this is unnecessary?”

Murithir stood up then, “Even if what you are saying is true, and I’m not saying it is, these are isolated incidents and not the norm. They are cultural misalignments. These humans come from primitive societies. They don’t understand…”

“They understand slavery,” I snapped back at him. “They understand they’re being used. Apparently, they also understand how to fight back.”

Mallaidh put her hands on her hips, “Now you’re fear mongering!”

“I’m telling the truth. Something this council has forgotten how to do.”  I stared as I stared the whole chamber down.

Voices began arguing and talking among themselves, rising to a chaotic pitch.

“Order! Please! Motion is on the floor for a vote!” Oswalt said over the tumult.

Mallaidh nodded, “Yes, I call for a vote. All opposed to Bryn’s hysterical proposals?” She looked around the room with her eyes narrowed.

One by one, hands came up, some quickly, like Mallaidh, Murithir, and their closest friends. Some looked at me sympathetically, but then ultimately raised their hands. There were 89 of us in the room. Only 39 didn’t think mine were “hysterical proposals”. Not enough to win the vote.

I watched the scene unfold like something surreal, in a nightmare. The morning was a disaster, and I spent the afternoon locked in my office without going home, going over reports and logs, including the ones Oswalt gave me, to try to fill in the gaps.

When I was done, I packed up my things and slowly walked home. The two moons, Pell and Agos, were close tonight and both were nearly full, illuminating the streets so brightly it didn’t feel like night. I had a tall shadow behind me on the cobblestone sidewalk.

When I was a block away from Oswalt’s house, I heard a loud wailing sound that made chills run down my spine. I sprinted forward more quickly to try to find the source of the sound, and my heart raced even faster when I approached Oswalt’s home and saw his front door wide open. The wailing sound was coming from inside.

I stepped through the doorway, and on the ground just past the entryway was the grotesquely bloodied body of Siriolaf. Pools of her blood soaked the floor around her, and I immediately knew she was dead. I stood frozen for a moment at the horror in front of me, and then looked up to see Oswalt and Elian as both the sources of the wailing sound I heard from the streets. Elian was also covered in blood and had wounds.

I blinked stupidly again, confused and not able to comprehend what happened. Did Elian do this? If so, why did it appear like Oswalt and Elian were comforting each other? What happened here? The two looked like they were in no condition to answer me. I sent a Porta Cor emergency request through to Mallaidh and Tynaref. Mallaidh would have to listen to this, for sure. There was no escaping or denying what had happened here. This was a significant problem, and now it profoundly touched our very council.

I sent the request and attempted to talk to Oswalt. “What happened?”

He stammered and had tears and saliva streaming from his eyes, nose, and mouth. He tried to speak but kept getting gagged by the volume of stuff coming out of him.

“Elian, can you tell me what happened?” I asked the human.

Elian sobbed inwardly a couple of times uncontrollably as though he was trying to pull himself together to answer me. Then, after a couple of breaths and trying to speak over Oswalt’s continued wailing, he replied, “Someone came to the door, but I was in the kitchen, so she opened it without me. Another human was there with a knife and simply stabbed her repeatedly.” He wailed again, then breathed a few times and continued, as Mallaidh and Tynaref ran into the open door. Tynaref gasped in shock. 

Elian continued, “I came running in and tried to come between him and her, but I was too late. Too late. Too late.” And his sobbing took him over again.

I exhaled and turned to look at Mallaidh, a look that screamed, “Well?” What about now?

She gave me an icy stare, “It’s still an isolated incident, Bryn. We don’t even know if there was another human.” Her gaze shifted from me to Elian.

“No, but we can check her nomen chip to see if she made any kind of imprint upon death.” I countered.

She smirked at me, “Of course, we will. We will need to keep this quiet. I have containment crews coming.”

“I don’t think that is the right thing to do right now, Mallaidh,” I argued stubbornly. “We need to let the public know. This is dangerous. Dangerous people are running around the streets of Teithia. They need to know, and they need to know right now before it’s too late. Well, it’s technically too late.” I sighed, looking toward Oswalt’s life partner and best friend, Siriolaf, and tears filled my own eyes.

“No, we are not saying anything right now.” Mallaidh hissed at me. “You are not either.” She ordered me.

I glanced at Tynaref, “What are your thoughts on what we should do?”

Tynaref looked from Mallaidh to me and back again, and then lifted her hands, “I don’t want to be in the middle of this argument.”

“You will have to pick a side at some point, Tynaref. All of us will.” I insisted. Mallaidh’s eyes narrowed, “Yes, we will.”

Frustration seeped through me, and I did the most important and dangerous thing I could do in this moment. In my mind, I reached for my Porta Cor and drafted a message and sent it through all public channels to all Anturians across the planet, not just Teithia:

Not all humans on this planet are peaceful. Please take extreme precautions around people you do not know. Do not request more be brought to you. Stay in your homes as much as possible until a plan is developed to protect society at large. Do not panic, but stay prepared and vigilant—more communications to follow.

Once I knew it had been sent, I watched Mallaidh, Tynaref, and Oswalt pause as if listening to something. I knew the message was coming through, and I knew what I had done was irreversible.

Mallaidh was furious, “You defied centuries-old protocol, Bryn Tal! A direct order from the First in Command of the Council of Elders has not been broken in over 2000 years since our last civil war. This will ruin you, Bryn Tal. This will ruin you and us forever.”

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. “You just chose your side, Bryn. I hope it was worth it.”

At that moment, containment crews arrived. Mallaidh looked around at the blood and the damaged furniture and wrecked door and the body of Siriolaf, “Clean up all of this. Pull her Nomen Chip and send it for diagnostics in the lab. Also, someone bring that human into custody.” She ordered and then swept out of the house with Tynaref, shrugging at me and following behind her. Oswalt wailed louder, protesting as the crew began to bind Elian and take him into custody.

“Oswalt,” I reached for his hand, “go pack some of your things and come to stay in my extra room at the house.  Go on.” I told him kindly. “I’m so sorry, Bryn. This is all my fault. I should have stopped this,” he sobbed. I shook my head, “No, Oswalt.  We all carry the burden of this, not you alone. We are all guilty.”

Later that evening, I sat alone in my office with the doors and windows bared securely shut and security systems activated, at least I think so. I had only used them one or two times in the past that I can remember.

I leaned back in my office chair, listening to the muffled sounds of Oswalt sobbing himself to sleep in my guest bedroom and the distant screams in the streets: humans fighting Anturians, Anturians fighting humans. Somewhere, glass shattered. Somewhere, someone was dying. I was afraid. Anyone with good sense was afraid.

I can still remember the fear in my heart. The feel of doom on my soul. This was no longer policy. This was war. And I had lit the match.

>End Porta Cor imprint.<