Draconia Offline vol. 2

83.1. My Alien Half - Part 1

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."