So vast were the golden halls of her father's ship that Anya had to pace herself as she descended the staircase leading into the central castellum. The Harrow wasn't far behind, ignoring everything but their assigned task. Anya always wondered how her father managed to give them a command.
She looked up towards the tallest pavilion, its fringes decorated with a series of wilting plants, all surrounding a statue of her father. The golden figure resembled a Daregen to the common folk, but Anya always held the intelligent suspicion that he was something more. In fact, he had long surpassed the expected lifespan and skillset of any known Daregen.
Anya was a curious princess, her mind drifting closer and closer to the shadowy secrets of her empire. Yrix popped into her head once again, and soon she became eager to visit the Arch-Flayer's project.
"The Aerie." She hummed to herself as she took a left turn towards the royal baths.
The Castellum was empty except for an arrangement of traditional guards from several races, all adorned in white armor with golden trims. None of them said a word, standing strong in their unending task. It was a great honor to be an unflinching member of their organization, even after the Harrow replaced their most important position.
"You really shouldn't be poking around that Psion." A masculine voice called out to her from a nearby staircase, his vigor just as apparent as hers.
Anya turned to see her brother, the prince of the Consortium, whose tightly fit tunic made him look just as frail as she. It was another unpopular decision from their father to engineer two puny-looking heirs as opposed to another towering warrior. But neither Anya nor her brother cared about that particular bit of drama.
They felt perfect. Right where they should be.
"Surprised you aren't already in there getting fat, Ocelot." Anya joked, pointing towards the red fabric around her brother's stomach.
He never got fat. Not like their father.
Ocelot rolled his eyes, putting forth a bit of zest in his tone. "Oh, you know me. I have so much to live up to."
The prince wasn't particularly masculine for his position. In fact, a human could easily confuse his short silver hair and yellow eyes for those of a beautiful girl. Anya didn't mind, however. She liked having someone she could relate to in an empty palace drifting through space.
"So do I. Our father is curious." Anya retorted with a huff.
Ocelot folded his arms. "And here I thought we were learning something from him."
"Yrix isn't any danger to me."
"Her work reeks of corruption."
"You mean enlightenment." The princess smugly threw her arms out as if to relate the comparison back to her father. "Tell me why you really don't want me to go."
Ocelot could never admit what he really felt. He was quite like a certain heiress in that regard. But Anya had already caught on years ago.
"Yrix is my friend." She continued.
"I'm aware." The prince sighed, placing a hand on his crownless head. "You even call her Aunt on occasion."
"Auntie actually." Anya smiled.
"She's a freak."
"A smart freak. I've heard rumors that she's collected an ensemble of humanoids with Psionic abilities."
Ocelot. "They're all freaks as well."
The pair walked as they spoke, making their own way towards the royal baths. Two more of the Harrow joined their course, having come from Ocelot's chamber to ensure his protection. It would have been rather easy for them to just carry the twins through the set of massive doors leading to the baths, and yet they did nothing but follow.
Not quite the service one would expect from the richest family in the galaxy.
"It doesn't make you even the slightest bit curious?" Anya replied. "Psionic Girls. And apparently, they're quite pretty."
"Oh, please." The prince rolled his eyes as he clacked his sharp heels against the gilded floor. "I'm not that easy."
"I'll find you a pairing there. Just you wait. What you need is a crazy strong Psion girl in your life." Anya giggled.
The pair strolled past another towering statue of their father, making their way into the entrance to the royal baths. The arrangement was vast and lonely, akin to the water gardens of Earth's desert, with its silky curtains and shallow pools creating a square encampment of luxury. High in the center of the chamber, surrounded by open panels that showcased the starry sky above, sat a large golden urn.
Beneath that exact spot was where the water was the most soothing.
"Right." Ocelot yawned with disapproval as he sped away from Anya. "Whatever you say, sister."
The twins had always wondered why, with few exceptions, there was no one else allowed to attend the baths.
Another mystery from their father.
But they didn't mind the isolation. They had each other. And as many rumors would insist, that was enough.
"I'm serious." Anya's breath hitched as she slid into the pool beneath the golden urn, its murky liquid invigorating her in an instant. "You deserve a mate."
That was another curious invention from their father. Instead of relying on traditional forms of sustenance, the twins would instead stew inside a purple liquid and absorb its nutrients. No one knew what it was made from, but it was a powerful concoction.
Anya had her theories in relation to the Psionic arts. Supposedly, flesh from one who wielded the power could be ground up into a variety of materials. It was far from a stretch to think that her father couldn't put something together using such a tool.
Yrix was part of the process. She was certain.
"And why would I want that?" Ocelot sighed, taking a seat next to his sister. "When I have you."
Anya yawned, leaning back and stretching her arms. She didn't seem to mind the odd comment. In truth, she expected it.
Her purple hair was braided from behind, trailing down into a single rope-like texture. That was how her brother liked it. And in the most desperate of times, he liked to tug on it while they shared each other's company.
"I won't always be with you." Anya breathed in.
"Right, you've convinced yourself to follow in our father's footsteps." Ocelot fumed. "How wonderful."
Not that he'd ever lay a violent finger on her.
"He's the trailblazer. The navigator. The only pathfinder this universe has left." Anya's lips curled up. "Somebody has to be able to comprehend what he's discovered, lest it all be wasted and forgotten."
"Maybe some things shouldn't be learned." The prince shook his head.
"You'll get it. In time. Trust me." Anya winked.
It was hard to say no. Not while looking at her delicate figure. Suffice it to say, he had a type.
"Perhaps."
"No, really." The princess smirked. "There's so much out there for us to explore. Like maybe...a cute flat crazy girl."
"You saw something, didn't you?" Ocelot hissed. "Something you shouldn't."
"Yrix had a file on one of her students." Anya chirped. "Father, let me look at it."
"Wonderful." The prince sighed.
"Her name is Sonera. She's apparently a crazed little warrior, beautiful as she is fierce. Like the sun."
"A Psion?"
Ocelot stared at his sister as he spoke, struggling not to imagine what Sonera would look like. His desire was just as fierce as his father's. Although it was worth noting, he lacked the savagery of someone who doesn't ask.
"One with great potential." The princess nodded. "Yrix has her marked down as for prudent analysis."
"So you're going to go visit this...Sonera."
"If all goes well, I'll try to bring her to you."
Ocelot didn't respond. He liked the sound of Sonera. But for the time being, he liked his sister more.
"There's more." Anya chimed.
"Great." The prince frowned as his hand wandered its way toward the princess's leg.
"Apparently, one of the students is an infestare."
"What?!" Ocelot nearly jumped.
"Another under-the-table arrangement between father and Yrix."
"No, I mean to say-."
"She looks like us. Not a monstrous thing."
"Trickery, I say."
The princess laughed. She came after her brother as far as their time of birth was concerned. But she always felt like the older child.
Only Anya could even begin to understand why her father did what he did.
"There's more." The princess teased.
"Pray tell." Ocelot groaned.
"Yrix has an Earthling. A survivor from her planet."
"Oh, I'm sure she loves us."
"There's another thing. An heiress who-."
Ocelot cut his sister off with a firm hand placed around her chin, pulling the princess closer to his face. She responded with a sharp gasp, unable to resist his call to her. Despite her relaxed composure, she was just as desperate as he was.
"You're the only thing I need," Ocelot whispered. "Just you."
They were never actually siblings. The emperor pulled them out of the same dark pit. But they were never family.
"I know." Anya whinced.
But they felt the need to call eachother that.