My Alien Half

I smile at my saviour, feeling strangely warm inside. I rarely feel a real connection with someone after spending just a few minutes with them. I can usually tell right away if a person is safe to approach or rather to be avoided, but I’ve never felt so relaxed in anyone’s presence before.

I clutch the napkin in my hand. I definitely want to see Erik again. I just hope he will be okay with my polyamorous tendencies. After all, I can’t get too attached to just one person, it would pose a serious problem. But, for some reason and for the first time ever, I let myself feel a tiny spark of hope. What if it will be different with Erik? Maybe I can finally open up to someone?

The taxi starts moving and Erik disappears from my sight. I suddenly feel inexplicable dread as claustrophobia hits me. It’s too small here! I hate cars! There’s no way my wings would fit! Everything comes to me in a split second. I was reliving a memory. No, to be precise, I was forced to vividly relive a memory. That realisation breaks the illusion and everything dissolves.

“Realising that something is an illusion is just the first part,” my father says, materialising next to me. “Yet, you didn’t break it on purpose. Your Celestial self did it for you when claustrophobia hit you. We will have to try again.”

Again?! Oh, no! NO WAY IN HELL I’M GOING TO LET HIM RUMMAGE THROUGH MY MEMORY LIKE THAT!

I don’t care that he doesn’t want me to use my emphatic powers. I love being a Celestial and I can combine both if I wish so! I accept Celestial wrath with open arms this time. My mind gets clear and I know what I need to do. I’m the Celestial Emperor and to protect my people, I have to be able to first protect my mind.

I create a shield around myself and even though it’s just another mind construct, everything here is. It will work because I decide it will. My method might not be to my father’s liking, but casting spells I’m used to helps me focus. I imagine the shield being able to block telepathic attacks and… it just does. I feel the intrusive telepathic pressure becoming much weaker.

“Not what I had in mind, but if the result is the same,” my father shrugs and it looks like he’s actually content. “It seems I do need to take into account the fact that you’re both an empath and a Celestial and adjust your training accordingly.”

“Will you answer my questions now?” I purse my lips and take a few steps away from him just to feel more comfortable.

“I promised that, didn’t I?” he smirks. “Only one question a day, though.”

I take a deep breath out of habit. It’s not like there’s air here. I was thinking about it the whole day and I came up with more than ten super important questions I need answered, but the question I should ask first is about finally not running away from my true heritage.

“What are you? What am I?” I demand to know.

“Let’s sit down for that,” he points to the left and two expensive-looking armchairs appear out of nowhere.

I’m staring at him with distrust, but he simply sits down and is waiting for me to join him. The armchair isn’t ideal for a Celestial, but I slowly sit down as well, spreading my feathered limbs to the sides.

“Humans would probably call us Mentalists,” he starts slowly, watching my reaction. “However, we don’t like that term. We don’t rely on tricks, our powers are real. Some may also call us Dream Walkers or Mind Readers, but that isn’t accurate either. In our language, we call ourselves the Divementis.”

“The Divementis,” I repeat in a daze. It’s just a name, but it still strikes me somehow. “So that makes me…?

“You used to be half-human, half-Divementis,” he helps me. “Now, you’re half-Celestial and still half-Divementis. The transformation didn’t change that, because it wasn’t designed to change someone who is a Divementis in the first place. Our brains naturally resist any outside intervention that would mess with our DNA.”

“Where are you from? Are the Divementis aliens?” I ask, hoping he won’t take it as another question but rather an expansion of my original inquiry.

“In a sense that we’re not from this Earth,” he nods. “We didn’t come in spaceships, though.”

“Did you come through the rifts then?” I’m eager to learn more.

“We did,” he nods again.

“What are the Divementis? I mean really? You look human enough,” I narrow my eyes.

“Enough,” he laughs. “We learned to adapt and blend more easily. Humans see what they want to see, we didn’t have to try extremely hard. Just as you didn’t have to before you turned into a Celestial. You put on human mimicry subconsciously to survive. It wasn’t perfect because you lack proper training, but it protected you.”

“I was perfectly human,” I frown. “Except for the telepathy.”

“Were you?” he tilts his head and looks genuinely amused. “What humans consider androgynous features are one of our main appearance traits. You kept it contained enough to pass for an unusual human, but the transformation brought that out in its full grace.”

“I’m Celestial now,” I state firmly. “Sure, I’m a telepath, but…”

“You’re still deceiving yourself like that?” he sighs. “Why do you think humans and even other Draconians are so nervous in your presence? They might take comfort in persuading themselves that the Celestial Emperor is supposed to look like that, but, on the subconscious level, they sense that your features aren’t human, nor Draconian. And that unnerves them.”

“But you look…!” I oppose feebly. My wings start shaking.

“Human enough?” he says mockingly. “This face is how I want the world to see me. You saw me like that at the conference so you expect me to look the same even here. But I don’t. When will you finally notice that?”

I blink, confused. He looks like a dignified man in his late fifties, just as I first saw him in New York. What does he mean?

“Clear your eyes and unthink,” he gives me a hint. “Turn your head if it helps you, and when you look again, forget what your image of me is.”

I don’t see any other way than to do as he suggests. I turn my head, take another deep symbolic breath and try to persuade myself that the person in the armchair next to me is someone I’m meeting properly for the very first time. I honestly don’t expect anything, but it still takes me by surprise.

The elderly man is gone. Instead, there’s a being of uncertain age with androgynous features similar to my own. He is human enough, but his face is too perfect. His body is too slim. His hair is long and too silky. He’s wearing something that resembles a kimono, but I can’t identify the material.

“A Divementis!” I finally fully understand. He’s humanoid in shape, but he’s definitely not human.

“Do I unnerve you?” he asks. His voice has changed as well and it’s much more neutral now. “I find that it would be more comfortable for humans if we actually looked more alien. This way, humans try to see a resemblance and they do, but they don’t.”

“You look way too young to be my father,” I say, realising I probably sound stupidly defensive.

“Long lifespan,” he explains. “Human lives are ridiculously short, that’s why we made Draconians to live longer. As for your lifespan in particular… to be honest, I don’t know. There was never a Divementis hybrid before, let alone a Celestial-Divementis hybrid.”

“Did my mother know that…,” I open my mouth, but I don’t get to finish that sentence.

My voice doesn’t come out. I suddenly feel light and my body turns transparent. Everything starts dissolving.

“I’m afraid we ran out of time, you’re waking up,” my father still somehow manages to speak, semi-transparent himself. “See you tomorrow.”

*****

“Love, it’s half past eight already,” Erik is shaking me gently. “We let you sleep in because you looked like it’s still midnight for you, but we have a meeting at nine.”

I slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes. I feel tired like I didn’t sleep at all. Is this because my brain is too active during the night so I can’t rest properly? I was okay yesterday, but now it’s two nights in a row. I desperately crave coffee.

“Any chance we could reschedule that meeting?” I yawn.

I try to act normal despite the shocking revelation. My father’s race is called the Divementis which makes me half-Divementis. My telepathic part has a proper name now. It’s confirmed and there’s no sugarcoating it—I’m half-alien. How do I tell my partners? How do I tell my subjects? When? Is there such a thing as a suitable opportunity to come out with something like that?

“No chance, the Japanese Minister of Defence is here already,” Erik says and narrows his eyes. “Do you feel okay, hon? Should I call Noage?”

“Nah, I’m just a bit drowsy, you interrupted my sleep cycle,” I stretch my wings, hoping my voice isn’t trembling.

“Are we overwhelming you again?” he bites his lip. “We double-checked it and your itinerary isn’t that different from your usual workload. Do you feel under pressure perhaps?”

“It’s just this different time zone, my body hasn’t fully adjusted yet,” I wave my hand to dispel his suspicion.

I wash my face with cold water and let the maids dress me up. That leaves me with only fifteen minutes for breakfast. I’d gladly skip it, but there’s no way they would let me.

“Where’s coffee?” I ask while quickly gobbling a homemade sandwich because there’s no time for a proper Japanese breakfast full-course.

“Dalia is brewing a pot just for you and the Consorts, Your Majesty,” Ayala assures me. “Highest quality beans. She will bring it to the meeting since you overslept.”

“Does she know that I like…,” I start, but Ayala interrupts me.

“She’s well aware of how you like your coffee, my Emperor,” she laughs, amused. “Everybody who serves you does.”

“Won’t you ask where Gotrid is?” Erik nudges me and forces me to eat some fruit salad as well. “Not that I don’t enjoy having you just for myself.”

“He’s with Liana,” I say between munches. “They are preparing for the afternoon’s presentation with Gavreel and argue about what colour the slides should have. They are so pumped up early in the morning. Sorry that I overslept, now it seems the Celestial Emperor is lazy.”

I suddenly feel a mixture of disbelief and awe coming from the maids and guards who overheard our conversation.

“What?!” I look up from my salad. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Where should I even start?” Erik sighs, shaking his head resignedly. “You do realise that you know what’s happening dozens of metres away from you?”

“Because I’m connected to Gotrid, he’s my partner,” I don’t understand the commotion.

“Hon,” Erik performs an exemplary facepalm. “There’s a big difference between knowing that you’re a telepath and actually seeing you demonstrating it. You have no idea how divine it looks, do you?”

“Ehm…,” I hesitate. Maybe I got too comfortable with everyone knowing the truth and not having to hide it anymore. Am I being too casual about it? For all my life, I was desperately hiding it from the world. Well, look at me now.

“And the moment of divinity is gone,” Erik bursts laughing.

I frown, confused. Then I noticed that a piece of fruit fell from the spoon on my robe when I was lost in thoughts. I take a napkin, trying to clean it right away, but it was a piece of watery melon and left a huge stain.

“That’s good, hon, seeing you clumsy makes you more approachable,” Erik can’t stop giggling.

“That’s not good, Royal Consort, we have five minutes before the meeting starts and we have to change His Majesty’s clothes now,” Ayala panics.

I’m dragged back into the bedroom and the maids start to browse the closet frantically, trying to find something that fits with my lilac under-robe so that they don’t have to start from scratch and save time.

I usually have little need to check myself in the mirror because the maids take care of my daily wardrobe as well as styling my hair. But I have a few moments while waiting for them to decide how to change my royal attire and the mirror is right in front of me.

I stare at my reflection with a bit of apprehension because I’m trying to see the Divementis in me. Ever since my father showed me his true form, I can’t unsee it. Humanoid enough, but not human. In my case, Celestial enough, but not fully.

I check my eyes first. My father’s eyes are pitch-black, but mine are as Celestial as they get. Beautiful golden colour, perfectly adjusted for flying in the brightest sunlight. Naturally, I also possess a pair of fluffy Celestial wings I love so much. But that’s where it ends.

My facial features are totally androgynous and too symmetrical. Soft, but, admittedly, unnervingly inhuman. My body is too sleek for a male and I’ve always been unable to put on any muscle. My father was right. The world somehow came to terms with that because they are comforting themselves with the wrong assumption that it’s how the Celestial Emperor is supposed to look like.

“You’re overthinking something again,” Erik catches me off-guard and pokes me between my eyebrows.

“Erik, do I look weird?” I ask, chewing my lip.

“What do you mean?” he raises his eyebrows.

“I mean… all Draconians changed tremendously, but Celestials should have retained their previous faces, right?” I explain and hope that my strange question won’t make him even more suspicious of my behaviour.

“You mean except for the fact that all Celestials magically got younger and Celestial men lost their beards?” he grins. “Well, you do look slightly different. You got even prettier. I guess it’s the silver hair and golden eyes? They really suit you.”

“And my face in particular?” I pull his sleeve.

“What’s bugging you, Ryuu?” he finally gets serious, a suspicion brewing inside him again.

“I… I think I look scary to humans and maybe even other Draconians,” I mumble.

“Really, what’s going through that telepathic brain of yours sometimes?” Erik rolls his eyes and symbolically slaps my head. “Who gave you that idea?”

“Nobody, I observe,” I clutch his hand. “Please, Erik, answer me honestly.”

He’s staring at me for a moment, thinking about it. He doesn’t want to lie to me, but he doesn’t want to hurt my feeling either.

“If anything, it’s scary how beautiful you are,” he says in the end and caresses my face. “Ryuu, is something wrong? Did somebody tell you something nasty?”

“As if they would have a chance to do that,” I shake my head.

“I love you exactly as you are,” he smiles at me encouragingly. “But moreover, I love you for who you are.”

That confession almost moves me to tears. I hate keeping secrets from him. I want to tell him everything. I want him to hold me and tell me that it’s going to be okay and he will protect me from my father and the Divementis. But he can’t. Nobody can. There’s only one solution—I have to get stronger and not only for myself. I’m determined to do so for the people I love and the future of my race.

*****

Because of my little incident during breakfast, we arrive slightly late. The throne room is already full and the Prime Minister and the Minister of Defence are waiting. I met Minister Hayashi only very briefly at the airport when I was greeting the Japanese delegation, but I didn’t have any time to analyse him back then.

It surprises me when I realise how young he is—he can’t be over forty yet. His skills and ambitions must be exceptional otherwise he would never acquire such a high posting so young. I remind myself that the Minister of Defence is second only to the Prime Minister so I should treat him with respect.

Hayashi is piercing me with his gaze when I’m passing him to get to the throne. He bows out of pure politeness and habit because it’s the Japanese custom and I sense that he won’t be nearly as amicable as Ichikawa. I can tell that he disagrees with the decision of the Japanese government to let Draconians protect their country.

“Good morning, I apologise for my lateness. We can start now,” I sit on the throne and nod so that everyone can sit down as well. I wink at Gotrid, happy to be reunited with my beloved, and I also give a reassuring smile to Liana and Gavreel who have been working hard since early morning.

The meeting starts and my suspicion proves right. Hayashi hates the idea of Draconians being primarily in charge of protecting Japan against monsters and the Japanese Self-Defence Forces just assisting us with damage control. He’s willing to cooperate with us only because there’s no other way and he has to comply with the final decision of the Japanese government.

I don’t hold it against him, though. Unlike Delgado, I can feel that he doesn’t hate Draconians by default. He just doesn’t like the idea of losing control. He wants to be the one to protect his homeland, it’s only understandable. I make it a priority to talk to him informally during a coffee break. Maybe part of the problem is that he doesn’t like negotiating with someone who’s literally sitting on a throne.

At ten, Liana finally calls for a break. I drank one cup of coffee during the meeting and I go for another at the buffet tables the first chance I get. I feel so tired. If I take a nap after lunch, will my father use that opportunity for a short training session? I hope not.

“You shouldn’t drink that much coffee, love, you know it makes you jittery,” Gotrid is worried when he sees me drinking my second latté in just a few gulps.

“I crave caffeine today,” I shrug it off and look for an opportunity to make small talk with the Minister of Defence.

I see him standing next to his entourage, ignoring the delicious refreshments we had prepared for our esteemed guests. Instead, he’s whispering something to his assistant and looks annoyed. The Prime Minister, on the other hand, is chatting quite merrily with Liana. Good, that’s one thing taken care of.

I try to mingle, but there’s no such thing as the Emperor casually mingling. The Celestials seem to think that break from the meeting means that I have time for them now. As much as I’d love to spend more time chatting with my subjects, I have a mission. I tell the guards to make a passage and they do.

“Your Majesty,” Hayashi gets startled when he notices that I’m confidently heading to him.

I want to say it’s impossible that someone like the Minister of Defence would be afraid of me, but he is. He sees the Celestial Emperor approaching with his Royal Guard and my pretty face that Erik and Gotrid love so much isn’t helping. My attempted smile is probably only making it worse. I’m alien in his eyes and he knows only half of it.

“These are pretty good, Hayashi-san,” I say, taking one of the canapés from the buffet table and putting it into my mouth, hoping to break the ice.

“I’m vegan,” he informs me dryly.

“Oh,” his answer genuinely surprises me. I thought that he was not eating anything because he doesn’t want to accept our hospitality. But, in reality, he can’t eat anything. With Noage being the only Earthborn in the mansion and him not attending the meeting, we didn’t take vegan options into account. All of these fancy treats have either cheese or eggs on them to suit Celestials.

“Did nobody ask about the dietary needs of our guests?” I turn to Luviael who’s almost always by my side. Honestly, I’m annoyed that we made such a stupid mistake.

“We didn’t expect… I mean… not many Japanese…,” Luviael gets pale, realising her blunder.

“Get to the kitchens right away and personally make sure there will be a vegan option for lunch,” I hiss, my voice uncompromising.

Luviael bows several times and runs off, flustered. I didn’t want to be harsh on her, but she’s in charge of these things and even tiny mistakes might influence the overall atmosphere during official meetings.

“I’m sorry about that, Hayashi-san,” I apologise. Luviael might have made that mistake, but I’m responsible for my subjects.

“That’s okay, Your Majesty, I’m not a fan of snacking between meals anyway,” he says indifferently, but I just know that he was complaining about non-vegan options to his assistant a few minutes ago. Time to change the topic.

“I’m really glad to have friendly relations with Japan, Hayashi-san,” I start lightly. “I might not be a citizen, but I was born here.”

“Born, yes. I suppose you’re still investigating on your own and trying to find out who your father is, Your Majesty?” Minister Hayashi narrows his eyes.

I frown. Why in the world is he mentioning that? Is he suspecting something? Did the Japanese government make a connection and didn’t share it with us?

“Naturally,” I answer and all the friendliness from my voice is gone. Hayashi might not hate Draconians by default, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t trust me specifically. He’s studying my face intently as if looking for signs of me not being who I claim to be.

“Allow me to be blunt, Your Majesty,” he says openly. “We don’t know who your father is, but he was clearly involved in developing Draconia Online. It’s difficult to get any information about Nebula, but considering your mother hardly ever left the company’s premises during that time, I somehow find it hard to believe that she met your father in some random bar.”

His hunch is correct, of course, but I’m more impressed with his bluntness. Politicians are never this direct. Minister Hayashi is sharp, there’s no fooling him with excuses and pretences. I have to be careful.

“You’re probably right,” I simply nod, surprising him with being blunt in return. “So? Are you implying that I had something to do with the Great Evolution? I was just a child when you deported me and I haven’t visited Japan until now.”

“No, I’m implying nothing of that sort,” he denies quickly, realising that he probably crossed the line and potentially insulted the Celestial Emperor. “I just think that a proper investigation of your family background could possibly shed some light on the whole situation.”

“What makes you think that we’re not looking into it? Are you not investigating Nebula yourself?” I look straight into his eyes, being well aware that it makes people uncomfortable.

I just wanted to intimidate him a bit and test if he will avert his eyes, so I’m taken aback when my brain establishes a telepathic connection.

He knows something. I know he does! Celestials are not telling us everything. How can we trust them?

I have to exert all my willpower not to flinch. It takes much more focus and isn’t nearly as clear as with my partners and Liana, but I can read his thoughts when looking straight into his eyes! Is it the result of my father’s training?

Now he’s looking at me strangely. Did I insult him? I have no idea what he’s thinking. I’d rather deal with a bunch of scary Dragonkin in a frenzy than talk face-to-face with the Celestial Emperor. He could crush me with a single thought if he wanted. That beautiful face of his makes him only more terrifying.

I hide my fists in the long sleeves of my robe because I can’t show that I’m clutching them. My dark premonition was right—I do look scary. Hayashi doesn’t manage to keep eye contact for too long and looks at Erik instead which instantly breaks the connection.

“We’re not taking over the JSDF, Hayashi-san,” Erik says because I stayed quiet for too long, still absorbing the fact that I can probably do indirect telepathy with anyone now while my partner is desperately trying to save the situation.

“Jiro, is something wrong?” the Prime Minister unexpectedly shows up, addressing Hayashi by his first name. Are they friends? It’s not common for the Japanese to be on a first-name basis with colleagues.

Only now I notice that we have quite an audience. It’s not like we were raising our voices, we kept the tone professional, but Celestials must have sensed a burst of wrath coming from me. Liana catches up to me, afraid that diplomacy has failed because of a misunderstanding. She’s shouting at me in her mind to just let it go.

“Ichikawa-san, the Minister of Defence seems to think that I have personally something to do with the Great Evolution,” I explain coldly, having no intention of letting it go. I have to stand my ground.

“What?” the Prime Minister looks at his colleague with disbelief. “Jiro, did you offend His Majesty in any way?”

“Why is everyone deliberately ignoring the fact that His Majesty’s mother was a VR developer working for Nebula and his father most probably as well?” Hayashi-san clicks his tongue and even though he makes me angry, I have to admire his courage.

“So what if they are?” Liana frowns. “Do I have to remind you that our Emperor was just four when his mother died and you deported him to the EU?”

“That might be true, but it can’t be a coincidence that a child of two Nebula developers became the Celestial Emperor,” Hayashi insists, unshaken. “Everyone is too scared to even hint at it, but I won’t be intimidated. Just look at him! Consider what he can do and he’s barely scratching the surface of his powers!”

He bravely looks straight into my eyes again which establishes a direct connection. He means every single word because his thoughts are exactly the same. The man in front of me is scared of facing the Celestial Emperor because he truly believes that I could kill him with a single telekinetic wave. But he’s not backing down. Despite his fear, he decided to voice what everyone else is afraid to even mention. He’s looking at me and he isn’t fooled by my pretty face.

I can feel my subjects becoming dangerously wrathful, ready to jump in and protect their Emperor against any insult. However, my own wrath disappears completely. I’ve never met a politician so direct and transparent before. I feel a wave of sympathy towards the Japanese Minister of Defence.

I also see… an opportunity to be more honest with our allies.

“Li, I wish to speak with Hayashi-san and Kinishima-san in private,” I demand. “Prepare a meeting room for us right away.”

“What? But Aefener, it’s not…,” Liana opposes.

I know that she means well, but I can’t have her questioning my authority in front of the Japanese. I have to act as the Emperor towards her whether I like it or not.

I recall the moment when my mind came up with that dreamy scene of me and my partners peacefully eating pancakes without a care in the world. That was my wishful thinking as my father pointedly called it, yet I was still wearing my royal attire. He was right after all. The kind personality I inherited from my Mom is clashing with the ruler in me.

I am kind and I hope that will never change. But I have to face it—being kind doesn’t always go well with being the Emperor and doing what’s necessary. For the benefit of my people, I have to combine kindness with wisdom. And right now, it means to become uncompromising.

“You will address me as His Majesty and that was an order,” I look at her and don’t even have to apply any telepathic pressure to make her shiver. I do consider her to be my closest friend, but I painfully realise now that there are limits to our relationship. She’s not my equal to question me.

“As you command, my Emperor,” Liana bows and, for the first time ever, she’s afraid to meet my eyes.