Ritual

Posted on Mon Aug 16th, 2021 @ 3:45pm by Lieutenant Commander Emni t'Nai

Mission: The Place of Skulls
Location: Crew Quarters - Deck 4
Timeline: Mission Day 7 at 2230

Emni t’Nai was glad for the small spartan sleeping space she had to herself on the USS Sojourner. She was aware that the junior officers were doubled up in shared sleeping spaces within their quarters which meant they were never afforded a guaranteed moment of privacy. The benefit of being a senior officer with her own bedroom wasn’t wasted on her.

She was tired, but there were still things that needed doing. Rituals to be undertaken. Emni would not have called herself particularly religious. Whatever belief she had in the elements or the power within the universe or even about personal fortune had been shaken like a dog shook a particularly well loved toy when the Romulan sun had gone nova--dislodging bits and pieces of the belief until all that remained were the motions of the thing. The ritual.

Quietly she removed four small items from a bag, placing them on the tiny desk in the corner of her room surrounding a small bowl of a light incense. A vial of water, a jagged misshapen piece of rock--one edge worn smooth from where she had rubbed her thumb over it so many times, a seemingly empty vial, and a wax-wrapped pack of matches. From the last item she pulled a match, striking it quickly before placing a hand behind it to keep the flame from flickering out. Slowly she lowered it to the bowl, the small blob of incense turning to an ember with the addition of the light from the match. Fire--both destructive and alive.

She sat on the floor then, legs crossed into a lotus, hands on her knees and eyes closed, breathing in the scent of the incense. In and out. In and out.

In and out.

In…

The memory came to her in the way they so often did--as if she were viewing them through a misaligned lens, pieces of memory snapping into focus the more she considered the blurry elements in front of her.

It was the golden hour of the day. The time when sunlight rested just so on a surface or a person, lighting them in the exact right way so as to bring out their most beautiful features. Emni had always loved golden hour. There was something about it that felt filled with possibility. Burgeoning beauty intertwined with a slowing down of a moment.

They had been burning incense then too, although it had been different -- a smell more familiar to home than the facsimile she was using now. A scent unique to Romulus.

She stood before a small table, settling long stemmed blossoms into a tall vase that graced the table behind the small censor from whence the scent emanated. A slender arm trailed down her own from behind, creating goosebumps along her arm that cascaded up her shoulder.

“You almost got me,” she murmured, a smile on her lips. “Your control has improved.”

The owner of the arm laid their head against her back, settling another around her waist and pulling her close.

“Mmm….” Sulli murmured, “You were distracted. It’s easier to sneak up on you when you’re distracted.”

Emni smiled, twisting in Sulli’s arms until she was face to face with her wife. Gently she pressed her forehead against the other woman’s.

“Amani,” she whispered using the name that only she and Jori knew for their wife, “you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Her eyes shifted down to red lips and a teasing smile played across her features before pressing a kiss to them. A moment later she pulled back, the smile still firmly in place. “There you are…” she remarked coyly as Sulli’s emotional signature lit up in her mind’s eye. A vibrant flow of emotion that was nearly as familiar to herself as her own emotions. Sulli had never been able to maintain her mental defenses and kiss her at the same time.

“Were you planning to invite me to join?” a warm deep masculine voice remarked. Emni looked up, taking in Jori where he stood in the doorway.

She remembered that they had been practicing mental control that day--a necessity when two non-empathic people were married to an empath. Jori had advanced so quickly that he could now enter a room without giving her any foreknowledge of his approach--save the sound of his gait on the wood floors.

The two women grinned at each other, unlinking arms so that their tall husband could join them. “We would never leave you out Rurim,” Sulli quipped, picking up on Emni’s use of her own private name and extending it to Jori.

Out…

The memory froze, fading from the moment that Jori’s arms had found their way around the two of them, releasing his own mental defenses so that in that exact moment Emni had found herself overflowing with belonging, and desire, and the comfort of a shared love.

Her mind’s eye blinked, replacing the scene with a new one, Jori and Sulli seated on a low couch. Jori’s hand in Sulli’s, the expressions on their faces grim. They were talking, but in her memory the sound of their voices had not yet entered the scene. Emni recalled that they had taken to keeping their mental defenses up much more by that time as the division in their marriage had become more and more evident.

Sound rushed in quickly, as though someone had suddenly turned up the volume, the quiet quickly rushing to loudness.

“...wish you would change your mind,” Jori was saying, squeezing Sulli’s hand in his. “We love you, but on this… you have to understand…” he trailed off.

This scene was many years later. Well more than a decade. They knew each other so well by that time that Emni hardly needed to use her empathic sense to know what they were feeling.

A gulf had been opening up underneath her as Jori spoke. It was an old argument. Romulus was thriving, but it was known by now that their sun would not last. And the time to move on hand come. And with it had come Jori and Sulli’s decision.

“We won’t come with you,” Sulli said, her voice tinged in anger brought on by hurt. They wanted her to stay. “We have never abandoned you, but we cannot come with you.”

“You’re abandoning me now,” she had said, resignation at their decision already rooting itself deep within her. This conversation had been a long time coming.

She placed her hand to the bridge of her nose, rubbing away an oncoming headache.

“That’s not fair Uliri,” Jori this time, his voice tense, “You are the one who is leaving.”

She shook her head. “And you are the one who is choosing to stay. Choosing to die.”

“You know that is not how we see it,” Sulli remarked.

Emni nodded to her hands, unable to meet either of their gazes.

They had stood then, coming over to her. Kneeling on the floor next to her and placing their hands in hers and, decision known, all emotional defenses were gone. And they were a well of sadness together. Sadness and regret. And the knowledge that this was the very last time they would sit this way together.

In…

Emni’s breath flowed across her lips in a slow steady stream.

Out.

In and Out.

In… and… out…

Her eyes fluttered open, the spartan furnishings of her new quarters on the Sojourner coming back into focus. The incense had burned itself out, filling the room with its scent, but no longer holding a flame.

Quietly she stood, packing away the elements and placing them carefully in their small box.

Not speaking she undressed, climbing into bed and pulling the covers up to her chin. And then, alone in her bed, the loves her life long since departed from the mortal coil, she closed her eyes and slept.