[IRW Aylhr] Penumbra - SD242501.30 - Summoned by a Shadow Pt 1 - Riov Rhae'go tr'Neyl

A Mission Post by Riov Rhaego tr'Neyl
Mission: Penumbra
Location: Neyl Estate, Ch'Rihan
Timeline: 2 Weeks Previous

The wind off the Apnex Sea carried the sharp tang of salt and decay as Galan tr'Kalas stepped onto the cracked stone pathway of the tr'Neyl estate. The once-grand structure loomed ahead, its fire-scarred walls and ivy-choked columns standing as a silent testament to what had been lost. The weight of history pressed against the old Romulan as he ascended the worn steps, his boots grinding against loose gravel.

Pausing before the heavy door, Galan let his sharp gaze sweep over the entrance. The old wood, reinforced with dull metal, bore the faintest traces of scorch marks—reminders of the explosion that had taken Ameh'ha tr'Neyl and shattered her legacy. His lips pressed into a thin line.

Lifting his hand, he knocked, the sound echoing in the hollow silence of the courtyard. It was a deliberate knock, firm but not impatient. He had been here before, many times, but tonight was different.

He waited only a moment before speaking, his voice steady, carrying the weight of duty and something else—something unspoken.

"Leih tr'Neyl," he called, the title precise, unyielding. "Your grandmother summons you."
The wind stirred, whispering through the ruined courtyard behind him, but Galan did not move. He would wait. As long as necessary.

The sound of Eviess's rushed footsteps against the old stone floor brought Rhae'go out of his nightmare. He sat up, his breath heavy, as the flames faded back into the depths of his memory. He looked towards the door; those heavy footsteps grew louder before a loud bang shook through the whole estate. While expected, the obnoxious sound still caused him to wince. "I'm not dead." He blurted out and stood up as the door burst open. Eviess took two steps through the threshold, her white night robes fluttering around her. She lifted her right arm where she held a lamp that illuminated the room with its soft orange glow.

"Hrm." She snorted slightly "perhaps you may wish you were. Did you not hear?" She motioned down the hallway "you have a guest!"

"This late?" Rhae'go sighed finding his newfound popularity exhausting. Standing up he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his uniform. "Who is it?" He asked as he slipped off his drawers and then started to slide into his uniform slacks.

Eviess didn't even flinch as he undressed, they had grown up together, practically siblings. Though the mention of the guest flustered her a bit as she mumbled and then said "It's Galan. Your mother's head servant."

Rhae'go paused briefly. His mind rushed back several years. He still remembered seeing the old man walk up to him just before he boarded his transport off Ch'Rihan and to his exile in the eastern reaches of the Empire. Galan told him that his grandmother was disowning him, that he was the son of a traitor, and an affront to the entire Empire. Essentially, he was now dead to her- she would never call on him, nor would she answer if he called on her. He suddenly felt the old sharpness slide along his chest, piercing into his heart. He took a deep breath and pushed the memory away. It was best not to let that old emotion surface. He spent too many years nursing and dwelling on that pain. "Perhaps you should send him away."

"Rhae'go! You know your grandmother. Relentless old bitch. She won't take no for an answer, and he will be our shadow until you say yes. Unless you mean to kill him, but I don't think you want to spend your homecoming in the Senate dungeon." She frowned and reached out putting a hand on his back "I know how you feel but I know you expected this when you returned. Jhu t'Pardek will always have her say."

"Ah yes, she does always love getting her say, doesn't she?" Rhae'go started to frown but then chuckled. If she went through this trouble, then it must mean his appointment to the Aylhr was not to her liking. Well, then, if that was the case,there is nothing he would love more than to antagonize her. "Let him know I will be down" he paused with a wry smile "when I am ready."

Eviess disappeared into the hallway briskly and he could hear her footsteps echoing all the way towards the main doors to tell Galan he would be there, eventually

Thirty minutes later Rhae'go finally appeared at the doorway, his Galae uniform seemingly glowing a warm hue of emerald against the estate's lamplight. "Galan, to what displeasure do I owe this visit? I thought my grandmother considered me dead, and yet, here you are."

Galan tr'Kalas did not move at first. He stood in the estate's flickering lamplight, his dark eyes shadowed beneath the furrow of his brow. The salt-heavy wind tugged at his robes, and for a long moment, he merely studied Rhae'go in silence, the way one might examine a long-neglected heirloom—familiar yet foreign, valuable but changed by time.

Then, with the faintest incline of his head, he spoke.

"There was a time when you would not have made me wait," he murmured, his voice even but carrying the weight of something unspoken. "But I suppose much has changed."

He stepped forward, his movements precise, measured. His gaze flickered briefly over the deep emerald of Rhae'go's uniform, the insignia of command polished and gleaming against the dim light. A relic of his new life, one his grandmother had not sanctioned. The Galae had shaped him, but had it hardened him beyond recognition? Galan was unsure. And so, he only exhaled slowly, then turned toward the flitter waiting beyond the courtyard.

"This way."

He led the younger man down the crumbling pathway, the echoes of their steps swallowed by the hush of the night. The flitter's sleek, dark frame stood ready at the edge of the grounds; its doors open as if waiting for an inevitability that neither of them would name. Galan moved with quiet efficiency, stepping inside first and gesturing for Rhae'go to follow. The moment the doors sealed shut behind them, the hum of the automated systems engaged, and the flitter lifted smoothly from the ground.

The estate below shrank beneath them, its fire-scarred walls fading into the darkness, swallowed by the sea of memory. The vehicle adjusted its course, aligning with the Traffic Control Net, and with a silent lurch, it carried them forward, out over the vast, black expanse of the Apnex Sea.

Galan sat opposite Rhae'go, hands folded in his lap, his gaze fixed out the window. The waves below shimmered in the moonlight, stretching endlessly toward the horizon, as silent and unfathomable as the depths of Romulan politics.

For a while, he said nothing. The hum of the flitter filled the quiet between them. Then, after a long pause, he finally spoke—his voice softer now, more measured.

"I imagine you have many questions," he said, still watching the sea. "Perhaps even words you have been waiting years to say." His gaze finally flicked to Rhae'go, unreadable. "But I will ask only this—do you know why she has summoned you?"

A simple question. But the weight behind it was anything but.

Rhae'go let the flitter's hum fill the silence for a bit after the question. Why? He did wonder about that and had a few different guesses. No doubt she was not happy about his appointment to command the Aylhr, lest her eternal shame be brought to light for all to see. But was it that? She always seemed to be in control, the epitome of political power on Romulus, and yet, now she must be finding events moving out of her control. Perhaps the old thorn was finding things a bit unsettling for once?

"Do I know?" Rhae'go stared through the window at the waves shimmering below them, not bothering to glance at Galan. He feared if he did look the old servants way that the emotion from their last meeting would slip through. "I don't have any idea why that woman would want to see me. You made it apparent she considered me all but dead to her. So no, I don't know why Galan." The disrespect of using the servant's first name was heavy but Rhae'go couldn't help but let some bitterness slip into his tone. "Nor do I care. I'm only here to humor her, as her renowned persistence would only serve to hamper my duty to the Aylhr."

Galan absorbed Rhae'go's words with the same stoic patience he had perfected over decades of service. He did not flinch at the bitterness, nor did he react to the pointed use of his name. Instead, he merely watched the younger man in silence for a moment, then turned his gaze back to the black expanse of the Apnex Sea below.

"The dead do not speak, Leih," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "And yet here you are—summoned, acknowledged, drawn back into her orbit. Whatever you choose to believe, you are no ghost to her."

The flitter adjusted its trajectory slightly, gliding smoothly over the waves as the distant shoreline of the Ra'tleihfi region began to emerge on the horizon. The moonlight caught the dark waters below, and for a brief moment, the sea seemed almost calm—deceptive, like the woman who waited for them at the end of this journey.

"You may be humoring her," Galan continued, his fingers tightening slightly around the folds of his robe. "But do not mistake her invitation for weakness. She does not summon out of sentiment, nor does she act on whim. You know this."

His gaze flickered toward Rhae'go again, searching, assessing.

"You speak of duty—to the Aylhr, to your command. But what of duty to your blood?" He exhaled through his nose, a low sound of dry amusement. "Or is it easier to pretend you are above such things now?"

The coastline grew larger beneath them, the vast estate of the Pardek lands spreading along the banks of the Thural River. The orchards stretched in perfect rows, their dark silhouettes stark against the moonlit fields. At the heart of it all, the great estate house stood in silent vigil, waiting.

The flitter began its descent. Galan turned fully to face Rhae'go now, his expression unreadable.

"I will say only this, Leih," he murmured, "be careful what you pretend not to care about. Ch'Rihan has little patience for those who hesitate."

With a soft jolt, the flitter touched down on the landing pad at the edge of the estate grounds. The doors slid open with a quiet hiss, the cool night air filtering in.

Beyond them, the path to Jhu t'Pardek awaited.

[To Be Continued]

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