Lois & Clark Forums Forums Fan Fiction Lois & Clark Fanfic The Chapter FourteenA - New Krypton

New Krypton – The Funeral of Zor-El

A grieving Alura, leaning heavily on her nephew’s arm, was led back into the great house. The shock of her husband’s death, no matter how long she had been preparing for it mentally and emotionally, was already taking its toll.

A planet-wide announcement of his uncle’s death was to be made by Kal-El later that evening. News had spread rapidly among the house servants, gardeners and other inhabitants of Abondar-El that the former First Lord had succumbed to his illness. Several members of the estate’s staff such as old Vaylor, the head butler, who had known Zor-El from childhood had tearfully taken to his quarters, grieving his loss.

Kal-El sat his aunt down on the couch and took the place beside her. His mind recalled to the first time that he had entered the room, anxious and unsure, and remembered how his uncle had put him at ease. In the all too brief time he had known him, Zor-El had become an advisor, confidante that assisted him in navigating the waters of a culture he was only beginning to understand. Now, as his uncle had eased his mind, the task fell to him to comfort Alura during one of the darkest days of her life.

He heard her take a deep breath before her tear soaked voice rose, “I… I cannot give into… grief. Not yet. There is much to do, Kal-El. The people must see our family take the lead during this time of great mourning.”

Kal-El looked at the woman by his side who had in mere moments become old and worn down. Nonetheless, Alura was marshalling her inner fires, banking them up against the days and weeks that lay ahead. She was in an agony that he could not begin to comprehend. He had only known Lois for a few short years, and he hated being separated from her, even knowing that one day they would reunite. In comparison, Alura and Zor-El had been together longer than he had been alive. The permanent absence of her bond mate must have put her in immeasurable pain.

“I will take care of everything. Please rest. Kara will be here in a few moments.”

Brusquely, Alura wiped a tear away. “She is with her betrothed, as it should be. Dar-Ur needs her.”

Alura’s voice, which sounded like a lost child, cut through the air, placing his own thoughts firmly in the background. “A ..after all of this time, knowing Zor-El would die – now that it has… happened… the times ahead will be difficult to navigate. Kal-El, suddenly there is a void in my life, Kara’s and… yours.”

He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders and said, “You are not alone.”

Alura straightened her back and with no small effort forced herself to refrain shedding more tears. In a moment, she regarded the First Lord with calm eyes that were swollen from crying, but clear. “No. No, I am not alone. We are a family. My… late husband drew his last breath standing against New Krypton’s greatest enemy. Such action cannot be forgotten. I …I wish to grieve, but that must wait until after Zor-El’s image is installed at the Convoca.”

At that moment he heard the sound of familiar footfalls. To his surprise, Zara and Ching Hia entered the family room.

“What are you two doing here? I thought you were back at the capital?”

Zara approached Kal-El and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Is it not my place to be by your side? Vaylor contacted me and told us about Zor-El’s collapse. We…I wanted to be of comfort to you and the lady Alura.”

Kal-El looked from his ‘betrothed’ to Ching, and once again was stuck at how much these two cared for one another – and how trying to conceal that fact was getting more difficult with each passing day.
He considered what Nor had said in the courtyard about his engagement to Zara. It was true that it was a piteous deception.

With each passing moment, Alura’s composure grew more resolved, “As my last official act as the former First Lord’s bond mate, I must be present when his holographic image is placed with that of his predecessors. Nephew, when Kara returns, send her to my chambers. Thank you for being here, my dear Kal-El.” She turned to the others in the room. “Ching. Zara. Life is precious and sadly too short.” With those quietly spoken words, Lady Alura In-Ze* stood and withdrew from the room.

The three also stood, and watching her depart in a respectful silence.

Zara looked at Kal-El with a guilty expression. “The cherished relationship between Alura In-Ze and Zor-El was – is – a shining example for all of us. I wish for such a bond…” She looked down at the floor, rubbing her thumb and forefinger nervously, but not before her dark eyes glanced over Kal-El and landed on Ching.”

“Is that truly what you want most Zara?” Kal-El asked tenderly. No hint of romance were in his words or body language, but over the months, they had worked together a firm connection of friendship had grown.
Not so between herself and Ching.

In the passing months, the dangerous attraction they shared had only matured and deepened. It was becoming more difficult to hid something that was so precious to them. Even now as she answered Kal-El, the words were not directed to him, but towards Ching Hia.

She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together again, saying, “Truly? I most want to peacefully explore our solar system. New Krypton is a world perfectly suited for creating responsibly tilled agricultural holdings, enough to feed twenty times our present population. But as you are aware, its subterrain is poorly lacking in metals that we can use for shelter construction and many other things.”

“Yes, I agree. Most of the metals we have used for the construction of our buildings were from the massive starships that brought us here.” Ching said. As he spoke, he gifted Zara with a rare, tender gaze. The tone he used was not in regard to minerals. He was speaking to the woman he loved.

“Preliminary scans of the system long before Nor’s rebellion revealed that there are rich ore deposits in the asteroid belt between the fifth and sixth planet. This Splinter War insanity is keeping us from additional exploration and someday mining those resources. I and hundreds of others should be part of that discovery; my primary training is in Zeo geology, not piloting fighters.” She said in a whisper.

“Yet, you are one of the best military pilots we have.” Ching responded, gazing at her with no small amount of pride.

“Nonetheless, Kara is far better suited to rule than either Kal-El or I. Her father trained her for the position of First Lady and most of all, she wants it. But outmoded traditions and laws that were created on an extinct planet dictate that only men and first born noblewomen have the right to rule.” She turned to Kal-El and said, “Because of such narrow-minded policies, Kryptonians have been plunged into a civil war which squanders resources. Instead of improving our cities, we use the metal for weapons. Instead of discovering cures for terminal diseases, we lose talented people we can ill afford to lose. People like – like your uncle.”

Kal-El looked first at Ching and then back at Zara. They stood three feet apart and yet again the love they wanted so desperately to share was as clear as crystal. The war had taken him away from Lois and had also demanded that these two fine people because of something as foolish as rank must be kept apart. The whole thing was ludicrous to the extreme. He promised himself that before returning to Earth their situation would change so that no one would deny them the right to be together.

But for now he must try to help them in a small way. With a thoughtful expression he said, “My uncle appreciated every moment he shared with Alura. Exploration in space to find materials for New Krypton’s growth is important, but isn’t there something, or rather someone you want more? As my aunt said, don’t waste any more time.”

As if on signal, Ching and Zara both looked to the floor and then haltingly at each other.

A tiny smile pulled at Kal-El’s lips. First, he took Zara’s hand and then Ching’s joining them together. Confused at first, but then grasping the gift he was bestowing on them, Ching gathered Zara into his arms and held her tightly.
Kal-El, happy for his two friends, briskly stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. He did not require super-hearing to know that Ching and Zara had finally allowed themselves the joy of providing each other with support and much needed comfort.

***

Night had settled down over Kandor II when Dever stood waiting for the First Lord at the entrance to his chambers. “My Lord Kal-El, I have drawn a refreshing bath. This terrible day has been long and difficult for all of New Krypton.”

“Yes, my friend, but tomorrow, we must plan and then later participate in the funeral for a great man.” He gave Dever a sad smile and then said warmly, “As a long-standing member of the El household, you, Vaylor and many others must be there, standing with the family. Zor-El… and my parents would have wanted that.

With a deep bow, the old man said, “Thank you…Kal-El. There are so few of us from the escape voyage still living.”

“All the more reason to have those who stood beside my father and uncle are honored.” Than Kal-El reached beneath his tunic and touched Lois’ ring. “Yes, that generation was brave to cross the cold darkness of space. We will endeavor to give him a send-off that honors that bravery. And we will win this Splinter War and fulfill the hope and promise that his generation gave us.”

***
Five days later, Zor-El’s funeral was held in Kandor II.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Outside the Palace Royal, the great drums beat heavily as the Sapphire Guardians walked in step down the grand concourse of Kandor II.

Splendor. Elegance. Somber. Regal. Immediate behind the drum players, prominent members of the House of El, followed by the Lords and Elders, walked past shimmering crystal edifices, parks and mercantile centers on their journey to the Convoca. Within that seat of government where Zor-El had served for so long, the ceremony celebrating the life of former First Lord Zor-El would take place.

The leading mourners, clad in black and red, were First Lord Kal-El, his betrothed, Zara at his right side and Zor-El’s widow, Lady Alura to his left who walked alongside, was their only surviving child, Lady Kara. Walking somewhat gingerly, beside Kara, having only been released from the Healing Chamber two days before, was Kara’s intended bond mate, Dar-Ur.

Kal-El may have been the new head of the House of El and the leader of its government, but the family took their behavioral cues from Alura. Despite her small frame, his aunt carried herself with bearing and grace. Though her dark blonde hair was heavily streaked with white, some a sign of stress from the last year, her calm blue eyes held an inner strength and composure that soothed many who gazed at her. She had lost her beloved; their many years together were now at an end. Private memories of their precious love and deep friendship would sustain her in the days and years to come.

Kandor II’s quiet streets were lined with thousands of her citizenry, most wearing the black and red of the House of El. Some bowed their heads in respectful silence while others wiped tears from their faces. Thus the funeral became a public outpouring from a people who were not given to emotional displays.

In previous centuries it was the custom that at the passing of the First Lord, an excessive three day long ceremony: heavy with rituals, and many speeches culminating with a final ceremony of creating the hologram of the late ruler in the Great Hall at the Convoca. Zor-El always thought such grandiose displays overshadowed the seriousness of the occasion. Due to the Splinter War and the former monarch’s wishes for a pared down, dignified funeral, such extravagance were not in evidence this day.

The previous evening Zor-El’s remains had been cremated at Abondar-El. Alura had collected his ashes in a ceramic urn and kept them in the archway leading to the flower garden. When the Kryptonians first arrived on the planet, cultivated land had been too precious to be used for cemeteries. It was felt that cremation and then keeping the ashes in special urns in fields and gardens was a kinder way to treat the remains on this new world. Once the dreaded atmosphere sickness struck the population, this practice increased.

As the El family and nobles approached the steps of the Convoca, high above the crowd in one of the crystal towers one man, his sharp eyes filled with disdain, watched the group coldly.
Arc-Tal.

He wanted to race down to the street, push through the mourning crowds, and put an end to Ching and that vile outworlder, Kal-El. One for daring to have the coveted position as Lady Zara’s personal guardian and the other for thinking that someone whose only claim to the position of First Lord was through his long-dead father. After all, the outworlder had not been there during the early times to earn the respect of the people.

But to be honest, it was Hia he feel the most contempt of the two. Ching was a lowly commoner from the Munde province. His mother was a weaver and his father an engineer. On neither side of their family lineage was there a drop of noble blood.

Arc-Tal rubbed his cheek, remembering the cut given to him by Kal-El after his sword match with Ching. Originally, he had planned on a session in the med-lab to have the scar removed, but he decided against it, thinking the mark added a touch of danger to his face. It also served as a daily reminder that a commoner and an outworlder had once bested him – that would not be the case for long. He was determined to tip the scales in his favor.
If Arc-Tal ended their miserable lives, then his distant cousin could take his rightful place as the ruler of New Krypton. He leaned forward, placed a tightly clenched fist on the glass and pounded it, following the rhythm of the drums.

“Someday…” the word escaped his lips like the rasp of a sword removed from its scabbard.

A familiar voice broke into his musings, “Arc-Tal?”

With eyes narrowed, he turned at his companion, “Problems, Taz-Al? I follow Nor’s orders, observing the funeral and the El Family.”

“Nor has new orders. He wants you back at base immediately.”

“Why?” Arc-Tal asked with an inquiring tone.

The other man shrugged. “The message just came through. I am merely passing it on.”

With a sharp nod, the younger man departed for Nor’s base in the mountains, wondering what his kinsman could want from him. Whatever it was, he would do it without question. Their purposes were the same, to end the off-worlder’s rule. Besides, he thought as he picked up the pace towards the shuttle, the House of Il was important to him.

If Nor won the challenge everything would change in favor their favor. His kinsman was in excellent health, but even he could not stop the hands of time and since he did not have an heir. Someday soon he must name a successor. Why could that not be him? Perhaps Nor himself might fall to some fatal illness. In the days ahead, anything was possible.

***

Upon reaching the Convoca, the procession strode down a wide, brightly lit corridor leading to the massive Convoca meeting room. This was the same one that Kal-El had used on his first entrance to the chamber. Here too, all were silent as the procession passed by holograms of previous First Lords. As a group they stopped directly in front of a hologram pedestal, which is ceremonially draped in fabric drenched in the House of El’s colors.
Now, for the first time in many a moon round, there was to the unveiling of a new representation… installation of the late First Lord Zor-El’s image.

Eight tiny metallic drones with silvery wings darted about overhead, their cameras televising the event across all twelve provinces. Complying with the instructions from their unseen director, the drones placed themselves in strategic locations in the ceilings and walls of the corridors. Thus placed, the devices remained at their posts, silent witnesses to the event about to take place.

Kal-El felt the closeness of the crowd, their voices murmuring in low tones, and the presence of so many made him uneasy. A deep grief welled in his heart. He had not known Zor-El as long as he had known other sage companions like Perry or Bernie, but nonetheless the loss of his uncle was profoundly experienced. The black and red suit he wore, with its scratchy collar and tight sash, was almost unbearable. How he missed his invulnerable skin! He wanted to be here, not as the First Lord, but as Zor-El’s nephew. He wanted to be here as cousin to Kara and a strong arm for Alura. Most of all, Right now all he wanted was Lois’ hand in his, lending him strength as they stood side by side.
His betrothed, Zara, looked miserable. She was missing Ching. Since openly admitting to each other how they felt, they loathed being separated. But here, in this great corridor, it was more appropriate for her personal guardsman, as well as the other guards, to remain outside.

Polara came up to him and said, “Will you say a few words?”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Trey, Polara and others had pressed him to give a speech. A speech would also give him the opportunity to test a small break with tradition he had been contemplating. With a nod towards Mar-Ur, he approached a section of the wall, also draped in black and red. He stood with his back to the curtain and waited for the members of the Convoca and heads of the noble houses to stand quietly.

Gradually the overhead lights in the corridor was darken, and a soft light shone upon him, the new figurehead of the House of El, draped in and surrounded by his family’s ancestral hues.

First Lord Kal-El stood tall and straight. He wasn’t fully aware of it, but he was the very embodiment of the long line of nobility of his house, men who, like Kal-El stood for truth and justice. Because of those ancestors love of justice, he was fairly certain, understanding the circumstances, they would agree with this tiny fracture from tradition he was about to commit. “People of New Krypton, your presence here today brings honor to the House of El. We have all lost a great leader, and I have lost not just a dear relative, but also a friend and a mentor. Because my knowledge of him is limited, I have asked for the one person who knew him best to speak on behalf of our family. My aunt, Lady Alura In-Ze.”

A murmur rose within the corridor, but the First Lord stood firm and his steely gaze swept the faces of the assembled nobles, keeping them in place. Some had dour expressions. Yet, they dared not speak.
Polara’s normally calm features gave way to a wide, delightful smile. She silently applauded her grandson’s action.

Garbed in a gown of black satin-like material, with a sash of scarlet encircling her waist, Alura gracefully moved past her nephew and approached the draped column. She stood directly in front of the black material, took a scrap of the dark fabric in her hands bowed slightly and then turned to the audience.

Alura took a calming breath, looked into the crowd and said, “People of New Krypton, my words will be short and to the point. I stand before you not as the widow of the former First Lord, but as the citizen of a culture that has witnessed many changes. Some of those have been the result of leaving our dying planet of origin and coming here. Those alterations such as the changing of the traditional roles of women and those of lower stations, my husband deeply believed in. Before contracting the disease which eventually took his life, he wanted to be an active participant in these changes because he felt certain they would enhance our society. We as a people must move forward together, otherwise all the good work that he and countless others have strived for shall be in vain.”

“Now good people of New Krypton, our new First Lord will fight to end this disruptive and wasteful war. We shall hope and pray that he is the winner of this traditional trial by single combat. Allow the First Lord time to prepare. In the meantime, we must return to our shops and fields, to our homes and families and work as one to make New Krypton whole again.”

With those words she bowed to the monitors which projected her words out to the inhabitants of the twelve provinces.

The House of El and members of the Convoca bowed in answer and then stepped back as Alura moved away from the image of her late husband. She walked over to her nephew, Placed her hand on his shoulder and said in a tearful, yet firm voice. “Now that this ceremony honoring my beloved is at an end, your sword training begins in earnest. Make us proud.”

A/N *When the First Lord passes, his bond mate’s last name immediately returns to that of her house.