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Klipyl Short Story - Rejected - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 04:51:01 +0000 UTCWeeks later, Klipyl stood in a grove with a bunch of carefully attentive servants all poised to provide drinks or food to a bunch of empty seats. As required, they’d all arrived before the scheduled time and loaded a fridge full of food onto carts and distributed drinks between sparkly ice buckets.
Dawn hadn’t arrived; yet it was an hour after the faction event should have started, and no one was there. The servants and guards could all hear the host pacing back and forth on the balcony of the nearby estate. With a slate clutched in one hand, the host angrily scrolled through a list of guests, displaying rows of last-minute cancellations. Her mind churning with speculations about who had ruined her gathering, she stalked back inside the estate. A final slammed door caused the security golem to jitter in its direction, issuing an inquiry and warning before the noble’s maid calmed it. The others kept their composure, while Klipyl amused herself by listening in on the host’s mental ranting.
They’d been standing there for another half an hour before the earpiece chirped in the guard commander’s ear, and he waved them to the preparation room. “Dump the food, store the drinks and then return to your assignment centre.”
Jealousy over the pastes, dried biscuits, and shakes that those around her had consumed at their last meal flared in the servants’ minds. The bland dullness clashed with the pickled vegetables, boiled eggs from a few dozen species, pâté, cream drops with jelly centres, and tiny triple-stuffed rolls of meat on delicate puffs of bread, and that was the plainest of food on the trays. The servants gathered up the trays and returned to the preparation room. With the normally dormant security monitors hovering overhead, the first tray was lifted from its holder. There was only the slightest tremble in the servant’s hand before they upended the lot into a narrow hopper that typically only received crumbs. A calorie count that was more than a dormitory received in a day went in with each tray.
Except for Klipyl, the entire crew watched with a mournful fascination as the food was sent into the recycler to be broken down. Eager to get away as soon as she had her equipment cleared, she strode through the door and returned to the tower with a distance-consuming stride.
The four-legged animals are still sleeping. Why do the other animals care what the sun is doing, yet the elves ignore it? The elves can see clearly during the night, but it’s never been too dark for me to see. Mortals are weird. I want another hug!
There had been a distinct lack of progress in gathering new information recently, yet Faisal hadn’t even approached her with supplementary questions. Frustration roiled beneath Klipyl’s skin, and the amusement she garnered from the host’s mortification died. A needy pout plumped her lips, but lost in her annoyance, it went unnoticed until her reflection in the tower’s silvery side pointed it out accusingly. Training erased it from her face, but an aching craving drove its teeth deeper, and proceeded to death roll.
It’s been so long since I’ve been touched. Right now, I’d take my mother’s hand pinning me down before the blades’ caress.
Her groan echoed through the sterile corridor as she strode inside. As if to mock the day’s brutal levels of lust, the dawn peeked through the frosted glass behind her, and the energy transfer hit. With no one in sight, she ground up against the last doorframe, trying to milk every pulse of the stimulation. When it stopped too soon, she straightened her clothing with trembling hands, the pain of denied gratification ground glass beneath her skin.
Glad I got to return early.
The last echo faded too fast, but it put a bounce in her step that lasted until she reached the level with Faisal’s office. Though she had planned to update the system with the host’s rage-induced thoughts, all that left her mind when the door swished open. The room’s interior hadn’t changed, yet the stench of pain now accompanied the calm green walls, with furnishings carved from a deep orange stone and padded with hide cushions. Faisal sat on the single two-person couch in the room, with a hazardous waste canister resting on the hide cushion beside him. With his usual coat and shirt folded on a side table, Faisal’s leanly muscled torso and his strange stump showed. His skin shone with a clammy sweat that clung to his forehead and cheeks. With a gaze off into the distance, he manipulated a series of controls along the sides of an instrument that he had bloodlessly driven into his chest.
Curious Klipyl stepped inside the door, and a golem in the corner to her left aimed its weaponry.
“Wait.” His eyes still not registering her, he drew the glowing device from his flesh. A nest of energy blades surrounding the central handle emerged from his skin, but they dissolved before the long nose of the device finally broke free from his skin. Held in the grip of a long snout came a wiggling silvery swatch with thick black strands through its interior. When the end of the tool cleared his skin, the swatch stretched before it snapped free. His hand jerkily manoeuvred the sliver into a slot atop the jar, and his fingers flexed to open the pliers. When the material dropped to the bottom of the jar, it emitted a harsh rasp, and the opening sealed.
“You look spiffy this morning,” Klipyl commented, and Faisal jerked upright; surprise shattered his usual serenity. As he shifted uncomfortably, Klipyl retrieved the pliers. “If you needed someone to cut you up, you could have left me in a state to do it.”
“I can manage fine,” Faisal grunted as he racked the device in the lid of the hazardous materials box before he also deposited the sealed jar inside it.
“Is that your purification process?” Klipyl waved at the box.
“It is of no concern to you.” He stood shakily and reached for his shirt.
“I’ll trade you another hug for helping you dress.”
Faisal shook the garment out and threaded his stump into the shortened sleeve. “You had an assignment. Why are you here?”
“Everyone reversed their issued acceptances.”
He groaned bitterly but continued dressing.
“I’ve got a bunch of angry, paranoid info from her. Should I update the system with it?”
“There might not be a point.” With the first fasteners of his shirt secured, he moved to the slate sitting on the desk and tapped away furiously. “The only reason for everyone to cancel is if her faction became meaningless.”
As he spoke, Faisal’s shoulders slumped.
“Problem?”
His hand swept the slate off the desk, and it cracked hard against the wall.
“Care to translate? I don’t speak the elf-throwing-stuff dialect.”
Faisal scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’ll remove your availability on the afternoon shift and set you a simulation to run. I need to think. We’ll speak after I get back from patrol.”
I want a hug!
“Ugh,” Klipyl grunted, before she followed his instruction.
The simulation he’d set turned out to be too simple, and it ended before noon. Without permission to leave the tower, she found a spot in an outer corridor and watched the nearby groves and animals. By early afternoon, she was terminally bored, blowing raspberries on the screen for no particular reason. Movement among the closest trees drew her attention as the overhead speakers blared.
“By council authority, this tower is on lockdown.”
The words hummed from all around her, and then a droning klaxon sounded. Klipyl tried to blink into the tree line, but even as the connection formed, it snuffed out.
What felt like fists beating on her skull sent her reeling, and she staggered back into the arms of a golem that emerged from the wall. “Caithel Oradrin, you are to cooperate with me. Death awaits any attempt to escape.”
She saw the procession emerge from the tree, a group of ten golems and twenty guards—visored guards with ice casters at the ready. Bands around each forearm-length rod glowed brightly, showing that the units would freeze flesh with the slightest contact. At the tail end of the group, flanked by a slate-carrying commander and a senior guard armed with a bulky plasma projector, came a red-clad noble. An idea she pushed to the commander, prompting him to notice that Faisal was absent from the tower.
“Lord Gorthad, what are the subject’s affinities? He is absent, but might he return to the tower via a teleport?”
“Good thought, Náhion. Drop the spatial barriers so he can get in, but increase the blaster charges; he has many protective enchantments.” Gorthad said eagerly. “We wouldn’t want the criminal to get away.”
Though intent on Faisal’s capture, the commander reluctantly disabled the safety locks, and the barrels that extended from the golem’s back shifted, six merging into a larger one over each shoulder.
“Golem, I need to use the bathroom. I wouldn’t want to shame the approaching noble by fouling myself.”
“You are to be detained, no exceptions.” The golem kept a grip on her upper arm and moved to the central shaft. By the time they arrived, the minds of the guards were fully accessible to her telepathy, and the noble’s intention to kill Faisal was clear.
The guards have orders to capture Faisal, but Lord Gorthad's orders came from Faisal’s mother—she wants him dead. They really are demonic, finding the pettiest reasons to murder. I’m not allowed to shapeshift where others can see me; otherwise, I could try to shrink my arm.
The noble’s deep-set grey eyes regarded her dismissively, and the Gorthad’s lush lips twisted with distaste. “Where is former Protector Faisal?”
Klipyl cast her gaze demurely to the floor. “He mentioned a patrol, Noble One.”
I don’t want to leave this world yet. If I can get out of the golem’s grip for a moment, then I need to warn Faisal. It would be a whole lot easier if his mind weren’t protected from me.
“The golem capture status shows you were on an upper level,” Gorthad said, gaze dropping to his slate.
Klipyl shifted her weight awkwardly, but remained silent.
He tapped the side of the transparent display. “Explain.”
“I had finished my day’s training, and I was awaiting Protector Faisal’s return for my next assignment.”
“Why are you quartered in the tower with no family insignia on your uniform?”
“I’m on probation, Noble One. I have twelve more years to serve under Protector Faisal’s supervision.”
He tapped away on his slate, and fifteen violations of illegal medical treatments scrolled across the display. The final line was a charge of heresy, carrying a sentence of mind wipe: Guilty, with a supplementary caveat: Termination if memory recovery detected.
“Search her.”
A guard pulled a knife and grabbed the back of her shirt. With the back of the blade against her spine, he sliced it to her waist. As he spun her around to tear the top and bra away, the golem released her arm. As he reached for her waistband, Klipyl blinked outside the dome.
The scorching hot wind tore at her body, but neither it nor the dust could breach her skin. With the tower still in sight, Klipyl dove into a gully to crouch behind a boulder, all the while the assignment bracelet on her wrist screeched and buzzed furiously. As she plotted a route to a better concealed position, mana rippled around her and yanked.
Caught by the sudden shift, she sprawled onto broken ground at Faisal’s feet. They stood at the end of a pit, with nearly thirty golems nearby. He wore a full-face respirator pack, and an energy barrier covered his usual coat and pants. Nearby, nine golems were controlling plasma extractors that were boring deep into the ground and expanding the pit. Each device projected a stream of material into a holding vat. On the outer perimeter of the site, a score stood with their back to the vat, their weapons trained out into the dust-filled surroundings.
His mouth moved soundlessly, and she tapped her ear.
He took a device from his belt and stabbed a point into the ground. A dome tent that mimicked the energy barrier expanded around them, rapidly filling with dust-free air.
Faisal pulled the respirator from his mouth, his pale skin now bright red. “Why are you half-dressed and outside?”
Klipyl mockingly covered her breasts, only to play with her nipples as she did. Blushing brighter still, Faisal spun to face the pit.
“Don’t you want to inspect me to make sure I didn’t bleed and give myself away?” Klipyl purred.
“How are you even tolerating this atmosphere?”
“It’s not as warm as some demons who have been nuts deep in me.”
“Forget I asked, tell me what happened,” Faisal demanded gruffly.
“Lord Gorthad seized your tower. A guard started a strip search, and the golem released me to allow access. As soon as he pulled the sleeves away, I jumped out of the tower.”
“Did you catch why they acted?” Faisal swallowed.
“You can’t guess?”
He let out a long exhalation. “I’d prefer information, not guesses.”
“Something about getting the last core from orbit. The council has evidence to charge you with interference. The guards have orders to capture you, but Gorthad has unofficial orders to ensure you don’t survive arrest. The whole trial and attention it would give to your views might get in the way. What’s the deal about the core?”
“They want to expand the dome to add additional estates, but if they remove it, the colony ship cannot safely remain in orbit. While they play at nobility, the energies of this world cause more and more birth defects every generation. Combine that with the edict blocking the medical knowledge to prevent them, and our descendants are doomed.”
“Those gene heretics?”
“Yes,” Faisal toed a fist-sized rock into the pit. “Did you get anything else? Who is pulling his strings?”
“Tell me about Caithel Oradrin first.”
Faisal rubbed his stump. “She confirmed my arm wasn’t a genetic defect, but a problem with separation in the womb. I should have had a twin; instead, they didn’t split properly, and something caused them not to develop.”
“Were you pretending I was her?”
“Yes,” Faisal admitted. “Now we’re out of time. What did you learn about Gorthad’s private request?”
Am I so worthless?
“Your birth mother convinced Gorthad to kill you.” Klipyl motioned to the golem. “Mineral extractors, and matter transporters. Let me guess, you’re doing your own mining.”
He nodded and moved to a nearly filled vat. A click on a screen set the associated golem into standby as the material was teleported away. “In the years we’ve been here, the few protectors who tried to gather them haven’t got a tenth of what we now need. The energy currently invested in maintaining one estate would be sufficient to collect all the currently projected materials within a year. Their excesses just get worse.”
“What do you plan to do?”
Faisal paced about for a few minutes before he tapped a finger next to a control option on the vat. “Never mind me. Each time one of these fills, hit transmit. Once the gauge hits zero, hit resume.”
“How long for?”
“The golems have the seam plotted. Keep doing that until I return, or until someone you recognise arrives. The sentry units can handle most of the lifeforms in this region. You have my permission to flee if they’re being overwhelmed. Just hit transmit on each container before you abandon this site.”
He shoved the respirator back in place and vanished. The shield dome he’d activated sat humming away. With a grin, Klipyl positioned herself on the ground with her legs out on either side of it and wiggled close. The occasional whine from a container interrupted hours of delightful stimulation, but she snuggled back up to it as soon as she could.
It was nearing sunset when two figures in protective gear appeared near her, and Klipyl hurriedly untangled her pants from the device.
Through the clear visor of the first, Klipyl saw her current face. “Caithel Oradrin?”
“You’re my fetch?” Caithel choked.
The other figure went to the vat with the most material and triggered the transmission. As the unit hummed, he dug equipment from a pack.
“Can you get it to work?” Caithel asked.
“Pause two more, I’m going to need their energy cells.” The male instructed.
“I know you, I don’t know him,” Klipyl said.
Caithel's mouth twisted, and she spat her words at Klipyl. “You don’t need to know either of us. We wouldn’t be in this situation except your behaviour made Faisal push the damn plan. What should have been years of influence he crammed into half a year, and it bit all of us. Now he’s off playing the part of the bloody hero because of you.”
You were caught first, and I was never busted.
“Where is he?” Klipyl asked.
“He’s distracting the protectors and council while we grab control of the ship.”
Images of bays filled with ore being transformed into rows of plants for life support and weapon pods to defend against the borders appeared in the woman’s mind.
“You teleported here, teleport up there.”
The male snapped, top lip curled up in a snarl. “I’ve never been there, and the ship has dimensional shielding. The only way through is using a transport vessel, or an authorised transmitter.”
After making dozens of adjustments, he used a cutting torch to sever the sides of the vat. While he worked, Caithel had opened up panels in the base of two more containers and ran cables.
“What if that doesn’t succeed?” Klipyl asked curiously, after they both stood on the container’s exposed base plate
“Then we’re dead. Faisal will fetch you from here if he survives. We’ll pull up half the sentries if this trip doesn’t kill us, keep these vats going.” Instructed the male before he squeezed down on a remote with a death grip.
The pair of them vanished instantly and rather than the level of the vat dropping slowly the connected units burst into flames. Klipyl skipped back from the spitting metal.
A few minutes after they disappeared, half the sentry golems vanished, and the rest repositioned themselves.
That probably means they made it?
She sat back down against her toy. The sun was long down when she felt a stab of pain through the pact to Faisal, and the cord that connected them snapped tight. As his battered but still silvery soul came flying towards her across the rocky terrain, a wash of mana struck. One moment, the red sky was overhead, and then the rainbow-walled tube surrounded her, along with the remains of her pants, and her lockpick floated free of a ripped pocket. The closest end of the tube was bright like the sun through the dome, while the other end was as dark as her cravings given colour.
The white of the end shifted as she raced along, and a silvery form appeared with a phantasmal line of blaster holes scorched deep into Faisal’s chest. His gaze determined, he grasped desperately for the circle of light behind him even as Klipyl reached for him. He thrashed harder, fighting against the draw and the tunnel’s pressure, silhouetted by the illuminated tunnel end behind him. She lashed out and caught his toes, strangely firm despite his vaporous appearance.
Through the contact, she caught her first glimpse of his mind, and she saw his arrival at the council tower. A glistening white stone foyer, with curved stairs framing a central reception desk, fifty metres from the door. The place was awash with grey-clad servants and attendants from minor houses. Other protectors, each with a pair of guards, were already present for Faisal’s trial; one that his position guaranteed they had to hold for the charges the council had levied against him.
With a click, the doors sealed closed behind him and the three protectors he’d successfully surrendered to. As his hair threatened to stand on end, sudden blasts ripped through the foyer’s false ceiling, exposing turrets that had already switched to full auto. A mixture of arcane and mundane explosions pulverised dozens of servants and attendants in the lobby. As the klaxons wailed from above various doors, councillors, protectors, and guards on upper balconies added their spells to the fray in a blinding onslaught that broke their combined shields. Other protectors and a dozen council members died before Faisal fell. As his heart burst, the contingency spell to keep his people safe triggered. The regret that he let his people down tore wounds deeper into his soul than those that ended his life.
You wanted everyone’s children safe, and they betrayed you—I told you they weren’t better than demons.
Her urgent need for long-absent contact throbbed between them, and he looked towards her in surprise, no longer trying to pull his foot from her grasp.
I’m a demoness and you’re an idealist.
Tales of naive demons being killed and robbed for the souls they carried prompted Klipyl to act. With a tug, she twitched him closer and caused a loop to form in the suddenly slack cord. At her action, Faisal nodded in acceptance of his fate.
“Goodbye, Faisal. Better if we part ways here.”
The strike of her claws bit deep, and Faisal’s eyes flared wide even as she let him go. With nothing to hold them together, a shift in the tunnel’s pressure swept him towards the light and her to the abyss. Her last glimpse of their time together was pieces of the shredded cord evaporating in her wake.
His being with me would have drawn too much attention. That’s why I did it—only looking out for myself. Right?
A pain that had nothing to do with her cravings bubbled mockingly, especially bitter knowing that the warmth from Faisal would never sate her cravings again. Klipyl wrapped her arms around her midsection, but it was an empty gesture that achieved nothing. As she approached the black circle at the far end, her pace grew faster, and her reflection in the tube’s wall steadily darkened. The veil of blackness ruptured at her touch, and she stumbled straight into a dead grey tree; the lifeless branches vibrated from her solid impact, backlit by a sullen orange sun that glared down at her. The harsh, abyssal heat from the landscape seeped into her flesh as if to mock her craving to be held. Scattered on the nearby ground before her were the remains of her grey servant garb, and the magnetic lock pick that sparked and crackled. As she reached for it, a flare consumed its circuitry, melting it into slag.
Why didn’t I get to have more fun with it? Once isn’t enough!
Memories of smashed liquor bottles spraying a deluge over finery brought forth a quirked smile, and a giggle slipped free. It sounded odd in the air, and her claws screeched across the trunk as she rose. She moved enough to get a clear view through the canopy and see the same distant orange sun that she’d seen move erratically above the blood sea.
I’m on a landmass, so there’s a chance of finding a city in the next century or two.
Klipyl took to the air, hoping to find a way off this abyssal plane.
