Elias frowned. "What do you mean by whom? Shamanic gifts come from Elu. From God."
Kian stifled a groan. "Were you born with your gifts? Were they genetically engineered? Were they given to you through some special ritual?"
Elias shook his head. "The ritual helped bring forth what was already in me, but why are you asking all of these irrelevant questions?"
"Oh, I find them very relevant." Kian leaned forward. "I want to know who and what you are, and how you got here." It suddenly occurred to Kian that Elias might be a spy for the Eternal King. How else would he travel to Earth?
"As far as I know, only Anumatians have spacecraft capable of interstellar travel," he said, dropping the name intentionally to see Elias's reaction.
The shaman's eyes widened. "Who are Anumatians?"
Kian studied him carefully, looking for any sign of artifice, but found none. The man appeared genuinely ignorant of the existence of Anumati.
"How can you be a space traveler and not know who they are? Anumati is the home of the gods. The ones who seededthis galaxy with intelligent life, meaning humans, Kra-ell, your people, and countless others. All the humanoids are their creations. They have colonies scattered across countless worlds. If you arrived from another planet, you should have encountered them or at least heard of them."
Elias shook his head. "I've never heard of them."
Kian's skepticism was growing.
An immortal from another planet who had never heard of the gods, who claimed to have arrived on Earth a millennium ago with no explanation of how. Perhaps Elias was simply a delusional human? He seemed earnest, worried, and desperate for help, but then many insane people believed in their delusions.
"Can you prove to me that you're immortal?" Kian asked.
"What kind of proof do you require?"
Kian looked around his office, searching for something that could serve as a test. His desk was heavy, but a strong human could probably lift it with effort.
His eyes fell on a document sitting on his desk—a printout of financial projections that Shai had prepared for him. He rose and lifted it, then held it up so that Elias could see it from across the room.
"Can you read this?"
Elias squinted at the paper. "Fourth quarter projections for MacBain Industries. Revenue up twelve percent, operating expenses down by four percent due to restructuring. Margin improved to?—"
"Good enough." Kian lowered the paper. The print size was small, and Elias was sitting at least fifteen feet away. A human would have struggled to read anything at that distance.
But enhanced vision wasn't conclusive proof. There were humans with exceptional eyesight, and there were technological aids that could improve vision without being obvious. He needed something more definitive.
Kian turned away from Elias and whispered so quietly that even an immortal would struggle to hear: "If you can hear this, scratch your left ear."
He waited. Elias didn't move.
"Did you hear what I just said?" Kian asked.
Elias shook his head. "No. I heard you whispering, but I couldn't make out the words."
It still wasn't proof, but it was something.
"Let's set aside the question of your origins for now," Kian said, returning to his seat. "Tell me about these sacred charges you mentioned. What are they, and why do you need my help?"
Relief flickered across Elias's face. "When I arrived on Earth, I brought my charges with me. They are sacred to my people, and our future depends on their survival. I was tasked with keeping them safe until the time came for them to be retrieved."
"What are they?" Kian pressed. "Artifacts? Relics? Elucian technology?"
"I cannot say precisely what they are." Elias held up a hand before Kian could object. "I know that's frustrating, but there are limits to what I'm permitted to reveal. What I can tell you isthat they pose no threat to your clan or to anyone else. They are inert."
"Until they are retrieved?"
Elias nodded.
