“Morning…” Saniya’s eyes were now open, her silky hair wet from the rain, her pale eyes full and radiant, her smile both warm and welcoming.
Syros did not respond and solely continued his idle staring out into the open forest. He didn’t even glance at her as she calmly raised her head from his midriff.
“Have a good sleep?” Saniya continued cautiously, unnerved by his lack of response. Noticing his absent expression, she added, “I used to watch you all the time when we were together in Asterleigh, when it was you, me and Torjan. You were always so sad. I would ask Torjan what we could do to make you happy, or seem happy at least. I felt something change inside me as the days passed by and as I continued to search your eyes for some sign that inside you felt alive. And now, whenever I look at you, I don’t know what’s real.” She gave an embarrassed laugh, her face suddenly flushing crimson. “I love you, Sy. I have always loved you. And I will continue to until the day I die,” she whispered, as she gently stroked his arms. “Oh Syros.” She sighed, softly kissing his chest. “What do I have to do to make you happy?”
“I want to die,” he said, revealing to her a knife in his hands. “Please San, you have to do it…”
She stared back at him in shock and attempted to forge words that her mouth would not allow her. They continued their silent staring, until he heard thudding footsteps approaching their location. It was Petula, drenched in rain, which almost covered the fact she was crying.
“San,” she spoke desperately, undeterred by their nakedness. “Please come… it’s Hurus…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Please…”
Swiftly, they reached for their clothes and together followed Petula through the woods and back to camp. The fire had burnt out; many of the Alpelites were awake and drying themselves off, getting ready to break camp for the long arduous journey to the United Human borders. Petula moved through them assertively, as Saniya and Syros followed behind her. He could feel Saniya’s eyes on him as they walked, but he could not return her gaze. Petula led them to a tent where Hurus lay upon a blood-soaked bed, his eyes shut and face as grey as the rainclouds filling the sky above. Lit candles were spread out throughout the tent’s interior, flickering weakly. Two old Alpelite females, whom Syros assumed were caring for Hurus, stood over him with herbs and medicine. Syros moved forwards and crouched down beside his bed, as Hurus slowly opened his eyes.
“Sy…” Hurus spoke faintly, after he determined the identity of his visitor; his voice was distant and afraid.
“I’m here, Hurus.”
“I think I’m dying, Sy…” were the last words Hurus uttered before all light in his eyes disappeared.
Petula let out a wail, as Saniya cradled her in her arms. Syros did not feel anything as he continued to grasp onto Hurus’s hand. Nothing ran through his mind except for the words, Lucky for some. All that could be heard was Petula’s fierce weeping, along with Saniya’s breaking words of attempted comfort. He continued to consider the lifeless corpse of his dead comrade until he heard a frantic voice calling to him from the outside.
“Where is Syros? Is he here?”
Bora was peering through the tent’s opening, eyes both wide and panic-stricken. “Syros…” it panted. “They have come…”
Feeling so very hollow, Syros let go of Hurus’s hand. And, once again ignoring the desperate appeal from Saniya, he made his way out of this place of sadness and death to the outside, filled with just as much of both.
“The Venians?” Syros asked Bora, as the two walked away from the gathering crowd of curious Alpelites.
Bora gave a wide-eyed nod. “They said they want to speak with you.”
“Me?” Syros asked, as they walked into the depths of the woods. “Why? Did they tell you?”
Bora shook its head. “They said to keep walking into the forest and they will appear before you.”
“Okay,” Syros said, sheathing a loose sword into his belt.
“You’re going to go now? Without a plan?”
“As you said before, Bora,” Syros shrugged, “if the Venians truly wanted us dead, they would have done it already,” he finished, before pushing past the thick branches, entering the darkness of the trees.
Syros journeyed far into the once placid forest; the forest that had always brought him wonderment as a child and that was most likely now to be the place of his death. The rain had picked up in strength; he was drenched in the torrent that fell from the trees. He continued to push past branches and leaves. He did not know where the Venian would appear, but he guessed it didn’t really matter as they could rise from the ground at any time. He clutched firmly on to the top of his sword’s grip; if he had to fight he was ready, even if there was no chance of victory.
He walked to a clearing that seemed familiar. Was this where he had been only moments ago with Saniya? It appeared the same, but how could it be? He was certain he had not travelled in that direction. It must be the same location, he thought. It was, of course in the darkness of early morning that he had come here, led by Saniya. The sweet pure-hearted Saniya. One of the only people in this world who had ever truly cared about him. I must be a monster, he reflected, as he sat underneath the same tree where they had been the previous night. He heard birds starting their morning chorus above him and watched a young fox cub run past. Laying his head back upon the tree’s bark, he closed his eyes and waited. If the Venians truly wanted to see him, they could appear here. He was done with acting upon the whims of another. He placed his head in his hands and started to cry, more fiercely and uncontrollably than he had ever previously done in his entire life. Oh god, I’m such a piece of shit… San… I’m so sorry.
“Human, why are you crying?”
“Because I’m a monster…”
“Yes, you are… but no more than the rest of us.”
Syros opened his eyes to see the face of a Venian peering down at him; much like his first encounter with the species, its face stuck out from the tree only a foot or so above him. He stood up and stepped back, allowing the tree to part, and watched the Venian emerge.
“Morning, human.”
“Morning,” he returned, eyeing the Venian claw its way from the opening.
The Venian stepped out and gave him a smile. “I have always enjoyed these parts of the woods… very… romantic.” Its emerald eyes twinkled as it spoke.
Syros began to feel unnerved. Had the Venian been watching him last night with Saniya?
“Don’t be so surprised,” it uttered, its extraordinarily thin mouth stretching. “As I told you on the first night we spoke, we have eyes everywhere, in the biggest trees and in the smallest blades of grass; we see everything. You have no secrets, not from us, human.”
“Why have you not killed us?”
“We wanted to, but we were ordered not to.”
“That’s nice of you… I thought you were supposed to be pacifists, anyway?”
The Venian nodded in agreement. “We were… however, blind pacifism is foolish, especially when true opportunity for change presents itself so miraculously.”
“That glowing Entity who destroyed Ankor?” Syros thought back to the moment he watched the unworldly demi-god type figure ascend into the air before setting off the huge volcanic eruption. “He was the one who ordered you not to kill us?”
The Venian gave a slow, approving motion, its wide eyes becoming even wider, as if it were growing in excitement.
“Why? Why does he want us alive?”
“Us?” The Venian sounded bemused. “Our Lord and Saviour does not want the rest of your company. Only you.”
“Okay,” Syros restarted, his mind working at the speed of light. “Then why does your Lord and Saviour want me alive?”
The Venian appeared to give a motion that reminded Syros of indifference. “He says he sees something inside you.”
/> Syros could not process what he was hearing; he felt so tired; he had not slept all night or eaten a proper meal in weeks. And now the Venian was delivering upon him this type of information. He had only met eyes with the unworldly Entity for a fraction of a moment within the Palace. Was it possible this strange being had looked into him in that short period of time. Into his very soul?
“The night of Sechen’s passing is soon upon us…” the Venian continued, its apparent growth in excitement not quelling. “Come find us on Yima’s Fields, we shall be waiting for you, human.”
He knew Yima’s Fields – they stretched open for miles to the west of Asterleigh. Surely first they would have to make it past the border – but how would that even be possible?
“What’s going to happen on Sechen’s passing?” he asked, fearing the answer.
The Venian stared back, its eyes emotionless and refusing to flicker. It slowly started to recede into the ground. “You already know what is going to happen… Our Lord and Saviour has promised us salvation in the stars. And to do so, well… I feel the expression you humans use, out with the old and in with the new, is suitable?” It smiled as its face became one with the muddy terrain below it.
“Wait!” Syros yelled helplessly. The rain now fell harder than it had all year round. He slumped to his knees, utterly defeated. It’s over, he gravely contemplated. The world was going to end and there was no way to prevent it. Water fell from his long uncut hair, streaming down his face. If he hadn’t already expelled the last of his tears earlier, perhaps they too would be pouring from him. Salvation in the stars, he thought staring skywards, sounds pleasant.
“Yes?” a voice caused him to jump, completely startled.
The Venian’s head had appeared once more, “I can’t stay for very long, human… I must admit I do hate the rain.”
“We can stop this from happening!” Syros pleaded franticly, stumbling towards the head sticking out from the ground. “We can make this a better world for all of us. Our species can live together in peace, I know we can! Please, just give us one more chance!”
The Venian had a look of sheer annoyance across its face. “You truly called me back for this? This day has been far too long overdue, human; I fear this moment has been coming since before you first entered into existence. It has been destined ever since your kind first arrived here.”
“You have compassion… I’ve seen it,” he told the creature, desperately searching its eyes. “You could have left me and my friend in the forest to die the first time we met. Please, you can still help us….”
“Compassion?” the Venian responded, as if he were nothing more than an insect wallowing in dirt. “How do you think you have survived this long? Who do you think caught you when you and the Alpelite jumped off that cliff, falling to your certain doom? We have shown far too much compassion already. Where has your compassion been for all these years, when the Alpelites and the humans butchered each other upon our soil? You insult us, you insult this entire world that has brought you in and kept you living for all these years, as if you were our very own. We loved you like you were our children. And you broke our hearts.”
“What did happen to our home world? Did the first ancestral humans ever tell you?” Syros asked, both broken and quiet, resigned to his loss.
The creature pulled a face as if it were reminiscing, much as a human did, on the years of its youth. “Surprisingly, they didn’t. Perhaps even they themselves did not know. Maybe a situation like this one occurred and that old world you inhabited also wanted you gone. Or perhaps you just got lost in the clouds and forgot how to land. Either way, human, you have taken far too much of my time already…” it finished, now with an air of sadness, before beginning to recede once more.
“Are you truly going to abandon your home world?” Syros shouted, as the head became one with the soil. “After you were born in the very heart of Vena?”
“As long as we survive, Vena shall live through us!” the Venian responded, its face now disappearing entirely. “Come and find us on the night of Sechen’s passing!”
Syros sat alone in the muddy dirt of the planet that was never his home. He wondered what the humans’ home world had been like; was it a little less war-stricken than this one? Or was it even worse? Did their gods also stand by as the innocent died in droves? Did the very world itself seem like it wanted our deaths for what we had done to it, just like this one? He wondered how life would have been if he, Ednon and their parents had been born there. Would they have been fortunate or unfortunate to live in such a place?
Syros stumbled his way back through the forest, his body soaked and mind rampant, his stomach empty and feelings dissipating. In this moment, he felt very much designed as if all of his life had been predetermined. “We do what we must for humanity’s sake, Syros…” He recalled Captain Lars Raynmaher telling him these words in his tent. You old bastard, see where your humanity got you… you’re dead now along with the rest of them. All the others you managed to blind with your bullshit. How many were senselessly killed over the centuries? To have a sense of pride in one’s own species. To become a useful cog for humanity. Well, I don’t want to be buried underneath the weight of your humanity any longer. You’ve cursed me with it… I want out… I want out… I want out…I want out…
Walking back into camp, he saw Saniya and Bora standing outside the tent in which Hurus, only a few moments ago, had died. He moved upon them, before reaching out to Saniya and bringing her into an embrace.
“Syros… it’s Petula, she… she’s gone… I couldn’t stop her…”
“What happened?” Syros asked, his heart feeling as though it had dropped to the bottom of his stomach.
Saniya could not respond, instead opting to place her hands in front of her streaming eyes.
Bora’s stare was fixed upon the ground. “It’s not just the girl… Many of the Alpelites have also taken their own lives.”
“Well…” Syros said, in a voice so distant and emotionless it scared even him. “Let’s bury the dead.”
“Oh, Sy, please… I don’t want you to die.”
“I’m not going to. And neither will you. None of us will.”
“How?” Bora asked, raising its head to match his. “What did the Venian tell you?”
“We need to reach Asterleigh as soon as possible,” he said, deciding against telling them the specifics of his meeting with the Venian. “Tell the Alpelites we need to break camp immediately.”
Bora gave a nod, then proceeded to make its way round the camp, telling them all the news.
“Is there a chance that we’re not going to die, Syros?” Saniya asked him, still engulfed within his arms. My true delicate flower, he thought caressing the top of her head, sooner or later we all die.
“Keep holding on to me, San,” he told her. “Just keep holding onto me and everything will be okay.”
5 Days until the New Year
Days became nights as they continued to travel westwards and, as instructed, Saniya had not left his arms. Much like the Venians, it was now as if they were one. When they slept, they did so in each other’s arms; when they ate, they did so side by side; when they went to relieve themselves, they even did so in each other’s company. She held onto him as dearly as he held onto himself and his own state of mind. But now he was more scared for hers than he was for his own. Options weighed in his psyche like a ship’s anchor, causing his travel across the waves of time to desist. What was he to do? Join the Venians in the stars? Or stay here in this desolate place, but die alongside the woman he loved? He hoped when the time came he would make the correct decision, but an ominous feeling now gripped him, so dark and apparent it was all he felt aware of.
Out of the forest, they could see the stone walls of the Human Empire’s borders. The walls were high, stretching skywards for over fifty feet. The night was late, so Syros could not tell if any g
uards lay sentry upon its gates. The company walked towards the large drawbridge over an empty moat. There were now only a couple of hundred of them; many of the Alpelites had either died before making it to this point or instead had had a change of heart and decided to head back east to try and find some salvation there. Syros stepped forwards, Saniya still entwined with him, and gazed up to the drawbridge. What were the Venians planning? he asked himself as the rain continued to fall. At any moment, the drawbridge could lower and the human military could rush out to slaughter them.
“I had a dream last night, Syros. Want to hear what it was about?”
“Tell me about your dream, San…”
“Well, it’s the same as every night.” She spoke quietly, gazing at him from his chest. “I dreamt that Medzu was crying tears of blood – even without eyes, I could tell it was crying. The sky behind it had parted. And the tears fell upon us like rain, until it took us all, like a wave hitting against the rocks. What do you think it means?”
To Tame the Sentry Being Page 21