"Why do the Pyrrhaei rebel? Look to history and you will find the record of our grievances: You executed our grandparents, the heroic citizens of Colonia Remota Prima, for the crime of seeking independence from Vola Apertus's global domination. You enslaved our parents for being children of traitors. And you hold us in bondage, stealing our freedom and our labor.

"On the 40th anniversary of our grandparents' Declaration of Independence, let this be our own Declaration: We Pyrrhaei reject Promethidae rule as illegitimate. You are not gods. Nor are you the Eternal Radiance's chosen ones. The augmented are human beings, as we unaugmented are human beings, descendants of the very same distant star. If you resist our right to self-determination, we will kill every augmented person we find, execute your Chief Navigator and other Chiefs as they executed our ancestors, and tear down every last one of your p-tech works.

"The Eternal Radiance commanded that this world be made into a Garden of Light for all. If you do not stand aside and give us a rightful place, we will reduce it to a Garden of Embers."

-- Tibulus Fortis,
Leader of the Pyrrhaei Rebellion,
50th year before the Restoration,
from A Garden of Fragrant Heresies

*~*~*~*

Two Regis Electi came to the Onyx Palace in the apocalypse's wake, crimson laurels glaring about their throats like sunlit blood as they stalked into the dark royal bedchamber.

Once, Domi would have been terrified by their arrival and what it meant. Now, relief left him weak and numb in their arresting hands. He deserved to be punished.

"What are you doing?" Valens snapped from somewhere that seemed far away as one of the guards pulled Domi, unresisting, from the bed. The other Electi strode to the wardrobe, selecting a crystal blue paenula that looked pink in the bloody sunlight flooding into the room through the half-boarded window.

"The Rex has grave concerns that must be addressed," the woman guiding Domi to her partner said.

The other guard pulled the paenula over the boy's head, dressing him more like a doll than a prisoner. The city watch would have been better. They would not have spared the justified beating.

The intense headache throbbing in his skull since he'd woken up in a destroyed world hammered harder with each small movement as the Electi shifted his limbs to and fro. The spikes of agony in head, arms, and side, echoes of injuries not his own, made him reel. He welcomed them. If Dae was hurting, he should hurt too. If the world was suffering, so should he. Let his head pound forever, one spike of agony for every life he'd harmed. Each life he'd ended.

"There are better ways to get answers than to arrest a sick kid," Valens snarled. "Look at him!"

Domi blinked dully, unsure how the man sounded miles away and yet stood so near. Nothing seemed real. Yet today was no nightmare. Millions were probably dead, more to follow, all because he couldn't just do as he'd been asked for the good of the world.

The Electi woman glanced at Domi and winced at whatever she saw in his face as her partner gently but briskly adjusted the paenula over his unresisting body. He stared back at her, despising the concern in her gray eyes. Where was the disgust? The anger? Didn't she know how selfish he'd been, refusing to put any real effort into being Princeps, thumbing his nose at every bit of guidance offered, and stealing everyone's future from them so he could avoid responsibility?

"The Princeps will be given the best care while he is questioned," the woman continued. "But the Rex's concerns must be answer--"

"Fine, then I'm coming with him."

The woman frowned at the narrow-eyed worldholder. "We have no questions for you at this time, Aedilis."

"I don't care," Valens snapped. "He's my Princeps and my alumna."

The Electi shrugged. "Very well, if you insist." She pressed a hand between Domi's shoulder blades and nudged him toward the door. "Come along now, Basilicus."

<>

Buccina shivered in the Germinating gale that blew snowflakes into the Ruby Palace's salutatio hall and, breathing deeply, coaxed her prometus to warm her body.

The Rex sat wearily upon the Throne of Regret, the majesty of his ruby-laden paenula at odds with the broken glass and rubble strewn around him. Half the hall had collapsed, struck by Trellis material before the Onyx Palace's worldholders had managed to catch most of the falling lattice.

The glowing blue stones littering the marble floor earlier had been carted out and servants shoveled the remaining rubble into heaps for removal. Buccina dreaded to think what her own Sapphire Palace looked like. Probably not unlike the ruin of her face from the fire fifteen years ago, now bared to the world.

She pushed the thought away. It was petty to fret over her disfigurement at a time like this. The servants in the hall did not even glance her way; far greater concerns weighed on everyone now than memories of a past and gone disaster that looked insignificant against the current situation.

She hoped her own household staff would properly isolate any of the energetic stones they found, as she'd commanded. Oliva's warning that the toxic lattice material must be contained far from Pyrrhaei made her stomach churn with anxiety. Even Promethidae might sicken after exposure to the stones. Anyone without prometus risked death.

"Thank you, Aedilis," the Rex's voice drew her out of her thoughts. The young forgeholder man standing before the throne bowed and, report complete, took his leave. "Princeps Buccina, may the Eyes pass over you."

"And you also, Augustus," she said, inclining her head, hand over her laurel, as she approached through the throng of harried Promethidae.

The Rex massaged his forehead. "Have you had an opportunity to see your domus? How fare your people?"

"Not yet, Augustus. I was on my way when I encountered a troubling rumor."

He nodded immediately, sighing. "The Princeps Worldholder has been detained for questioning, yes. The world as we know it has been destroyed. He has much to answer for." Whispering rose in the hall then and, scowling, the old man snapped, "Salutatio is adjourned for the next ten minutes. You are all dismissed."

The Electi opened the hall doors and it did not take the crowd long to file out, though many cast speculative looks over their shoulders.

"Speak your mind freely, Basilicus," the Rex sighed as the doors closed.

"I am only concerned, Augustus," she said, choosing her words with care. He was a wise and just ruler, but when stressed and exhausted sometimes acted with a younger man's rashness. "Certainly the world requires answers, but Princeps Daedalus is a child. To arrest him like a common criminal, and an adult..."

The elderly man did not look moved. "For now, I merely summoned him for questioning, Basilicus. He rests in a well-appointed suite." His jaw clenched. "Yet millions around the world lack such comfort tonight and over one hundred million are likely dead. The people will begin demanding answers soon. Satisfying answers and swift action. Princeps Daedalus must be held accountable for what he has done, once I determine what precisely that is."

"And what will you do with him, Augustus?"

The elderly man gritted his teeth. "Whatever I must to prevent a global riot. You sound as though you disagree, Basilicus. Would you not have him answer for what he has done? I have heard some chilling speculation that poisoning alone might not be the true cause of today's events. Would you have him exonerated of his horrific crimes?"

Buccina frowned. "You say you have heard only rumors and have not questioned him yet. But you speak of him as though you have already determined his guilt and his sentence. I just urge you to recall, Augustus, that he is just a child. I urge you not to sacrifice him to appease the public."

The Rex's eyes were colder than she had ever seen as he shook his head. "Basilicus, I have an entire planet to see through this crisis, as do you. The people will tear down the public order and make any emergency efforts futile if we do not satisfy their justified anger. We cannot afford that, and I will sacrifice a million children if necessary to ensure this world has a future."

<>

"You should've left me," Domi, curled on the floor in the corner, said. The boy's voice, still rough and thick from screaming and crying earlier, was dull now. Dead. Valens didn't know whether to be relieved or worried that the broken sobbing had dried up. He worried his alumna had sunk into a sorrow too deep for tears. "I deserve whatever they do."

"No, you don't," Valens said, heart aching. "And no, I'm not leaving you."

Their prison deep in the Ruby Palace was beautiful, fit for a Princeps, praetor, or other high-ranking Promethidae. A suite in the heart of the Ruby Palace's subsurface dungeon, the rooms had sustained little damage in the Trellis's descent except for a crack high on one golden marble wall and the shattering of the chandelier overhead.

Servants had been sweeping away the broken shards of crystal and promenia when they'd been brought here. Couldn't have any potential weapons in this gilded prison. And Valens didn't want Domi to get his hands on anything sharp. Not right now.

"You've got to tell the Rex everything," the kid said dully, holding his arm like it hurt him. He looked uninjured; was his twin wounded? "Or you'll get punished with me."

"I'm not telling him anything," Valens said, studying the boy. He looked nauseous, but that was hardly surprising. Maybe Daedalus was fine and the Electi had just handled Domi more roughly than Valens had thought. "Not unless he forces me."

Domi shook his head, gaze far away. "He's the Rex. You're supposed to do what he wants."

"I'm your aedificans. The Rex ensured that himself." Twice, in fact. "My main duty is to the alumna entrusted to me."

"Even if I ended the world?"

Valens swallowed hard. The guilt and pain carved into the boy's young face were hard to witness, but he forced himself to meet his alumna's anguished gaze. "Especially if you ended the world, alumna," he said.