by James Huff
‘The people of Vaena heard about the princess’ plight and one of the elders, a powerful magician, was summoned to see if he could aid the king and queen. He used his powers to peer into Ourto and find the princess’ location. When he discovered she was in the lair of the king of the Shaivas he became most distressed. After much deliberation it was decided that a group of men would be sent to Ourto to attempt to save her. But before they left a little boy from the village came up to them and rebuked them asking why they were going to save the beautiful princess when she only needed a true love. After saying this the little boy vanished, leaving the people perplexed. Who could her true love be? Could it be one of the suitors? It wouldn’t seem likely, as the princess didn’t seem to like any of them. But then, there was the young poet of the land, a dreamer about her age. The people of Vaena shunned him, though, because he was always up in the clouds, musing on about his imaginings even though he was already constantly surrounded by beauty. Surely this boy’s simple love couldn’t save her? Surely they would have to send someone over.’
‘The people decided to go to the boy, that young poet, and talk with him about it. Surprisingly the boy already had a solution proposed; he was just waiting for someone to accept it. He suggested sending his bird. He supposed that if his love could save her, then perhaps sending her a letter via the bird could somehow create an opening for her to escape through, like a new portal. The elders laughed at him and said that magic didn’t work that way, that it took many years to develop magical abilities and strict practice. The boy refused to believe any of them and went himself to the portal with his bird. He attached to its talon his favorite poem that he wrote especially for her when they were still little children. He knew she loved it the most and he believed in his heart that this alone would be enough to bring her to him.’
‘Now when the King of the Shaivas found out about this through his spies, he became outraged and locked her away in his dungeon where no bird would find her. But one day, eluding her captors, the princess escaped the dungeon and fled into an upper room where she barricaded the door and hid herself. It was then, already beginning to lose hope, that the princess looked up and beheld a dove. She looked closer and saw it had a letter attached to its talon. She opened it up and immediately the bird flew away. Upon reading the letter she burst into tears, kissed it, and promised that she would return to wed that amazing poet. Just then, and just as the boy had expected, she saw an opening in the wall. It was a sphere of a greenish-white and she recognized it as a portal. Not knowing for sure where it would go, but knowing her barricade wouldn’t last, she ran into the portal as fast as she could.’
‘Suddenly she found herself in the boy’s arms. They embraced and behind them was the entire village, who celebrated the moment with a glorious feast and with music. They decided to wed on that day and the whole of the land came to see the two get married, to see them take their place as leaders.’
‘And the two worlds remained apart for now, but to take extra precaution an enchantment was cast on the portal so that only an elder of the highest rank could access it.’
Grandfather ended the story with a legend that his grandfather told him. It is said that one day an evil ruler infiltrated Vaena and destroyed the portal which separated the worlds, causing the corruption of Ourto to spill into the beautiful land of Vaena and the people of Vaena to subsequently flee to the aethers, or the higher unseen realms. According to this account humanity as we know it was seeded in post-corrupted Vaena, after evil entered the world.
This story had a profound impact on the way I perceived life around me. My imagination took over more and more and suddenly all my surroundings blossomed into the beautiful kingdom of Vaena. Grandfather knew it was my favorite story and I think it worried him a bit that it now took up so much space in my thoughts. He didn’t want me to become so dissociated from reality that Institution would bring me nothing but suffering. He knew that my imaginations would bring on severe punishment within the walls of Institution. But he rarely spoke of it. He worried.
After hearing about Vaena, Grandfather stopped telling me his stories. He said that I was turning into an escapist, whatever that meant. I guess I did spend more time imagining than experiencing reality for what it was. But we did continue going to worship the Alphae together and even though I despised it sometimes, it was always nice to go with my grandfather because he had a way of making everything fun.
Going to the temples with Grandfather had pleased my parents and gained me their favor, but one day all of that would change. My parents came home from the temple early one evening while Grandfather was visiting me and overheard us talking about Vaena. They scolded me and took Grandfather to their room and I never found out what they discussed, but they told me that they had decided that I was to go with them to worship the Alphae everyday and that I could not see Grandfather again until I proved my loyalty to the Alphae and forgot about these tales. “My son,” mother informed me, “at first we thought little of these tales and saw them as innocent child’s play. But you have shown us time and time again that you care more about such fantasies than you do about he who has given you everything you have. All that you are, as a safe and healthy citizen of Metropolis, you owe to the Alphae and him alone. Remember that. And forget about this ‘Vaena’ place. It does not exist. Not now, not ever.” She slapped me across the face in an effort to show me how serious she was and then sent me to my room, without supper. I had never cried harder than that night. I loved my grandfather dearly, more than anything or anyone in the world, even my own parents, and now he was removed from my life by our own family.
And so time went on and I began to attend the temple gatherings much more frequently and my parents kept a much closer eye on me. Though I never spoke of Grandfather’s stories, nothing short of death would destroy my imagination, and so I thought about them often. I was doing my best, however, to show my parents my loyalty with the Alphae because I truly missed my grandfather and was willing to do anything to be reunited with him. I knew I would be sent to Institution soon and I wanted to get the chance to see him before then. As time went on, I learned how to wear a mask and became quite adept at pretending. I figured if I just mimicked my parents on the outside, and continued to imagine on the inside, eventually they would believe my pretending and would reunite me with Grandfather. Eventually I grew desperate. I decided to make a deal with my parents. I would go to the temple with the individual altars and speak to the Alphae one on one about the situation with Grandfather, the stories, and my continued struggle to conform to society and the will of the Alphae. In my heart I foolishly believed that I could trick the Alphae into believing in my loyalty to him through my pretending. I decided that it would be best that I go alone, and so I left one evening after supper and took the pneumatic train to station 66 to learn my fate…
I stepped off the platform and walked briskly across the gray and white checkered floor, the familiar institutional pallor of what has become a mental prison for this young mind. There was a strange feeling that pervaded the air. It was an enigmatic sigh of pain, yet it had no relevance to the present moment. I could sense a darkness approaching in the night. A knife pierced my heart like the thorns of a rose plucked too eagerly by a lover. It was gut-wrenching. From where it had arisen, though, I had not the slightest clue. All I knew was that I missed my grandfather and that I had to cast this dread aside if I was to be successful in deceiving the Alphae. How does one deceive a god?
There were individual altar stations set up in a massive semi-circle surrounding a large monument erected in honor of the Alphae supposedly when the city was founded. Station 66 was considered one of the most sacred sites of individual Alphae worship and some clerics visited there from time to time. The people whispered among themselves that they had come from the massive palace of the Alphae himself and saw him face to face in his true form. Rumors went around that there were many who, once initiated enough to approach the Alphae in his “holy of holies�
� instantly fell dead at the sight of his mighty opulence. I approached the altar that looked to be in the center to the west. As I was walking I noticed that I was the only one in the entire station. I assumed there must have been a temple gathering in the main square, but I was never told about it and no pesky drones ordered me to go. I shrugged it off as a coincidence and approached the small altar, number 318. The altar itself was made of stone, enshrouded with brass. Paradoxically it seemed dull and to exude a shine, simultaneously. On top of the altar was a small green disk with subtle silvery highlights. I touched it in the center and it was activated and projected out a beam of golden light that shot up into the night sky and then spread out in a canopy over my body and the surrounding area. A tiny green light, almost like a strange star, appeared in the center, and out of this point of light the Alphae slowly began to take form. First the light became two and formed into his eyes. Then his dazzling face began to show, pulsating with every color of the spectrum in vibrant wonder. For some reason he did not manifest a body. His face hovered there in front of me for a few brief moments before he spoke.
“What do you seek child?” The Alphae questioned me with his bright, yet opaque eyes. “I seek your approval, sir…” “My approval?! And sir? I am a god and you know that is not the correct response nor the way to greet your maker and master! You insolence will not be tolerated. I ask you again, what do you seek?”
“I seek to serve you that I may be served,” I answered with reluctance. “Do you seek my counsel child?” His eyes gleamed magically like that of a child waking from a nightmare, dreaming with his eyes open. “I have a question, oh powerful one,” I replied, trying to please him with sooth. “You may ask me whatever you desire child,” he responded, “but I warn you that I will not tolerate your escapist fantasies. I know you John. I know you body, mind, and soul. For I know All.”
“I wanted to know if I could serve you and dream about the stories. Truly you are my god and you have given me all that I have and have provided bountifully to my whole family and all of this great city. I will give up these stories if I must, but have I not served you well despite them?” I was trying to negotiate the best I could. I could see that he was already seeing through my thin veneer of deception, unlike my parents and so I did not have a problem admitting that the stories were still somewhat dear to me.
“You will not deceive me child. You are faced with a choice. If you do not discard these childish notions you have of gardens and magical people then I will have no choice but to have you exiled. Know that I could strike you down at any moment. You are like an ant to my mighty opulence. I could strike down your family, even your most beloved grandfather with but a thought. You have to make a choice. Serve me and me alone. I must be put above everything, even your family and especially that old fool of a grandfather you so ignorantly admire. That old man learned many a hard lesson when I worked with him in Institution. It will be the same for you if you do not renounce this absurd fantasy. I may have to punish your grandfather. I may have to strike him down. Do not test me and do not force my hand! For the entire world will quake with fear at my anger!”
I was so appalled that I could not think. I wanted to cry but a rage began to build up inside of me. It was like a fire was lit in the very heart of my being. My muscles tensed and I was perspiring with hate. In my anger I balled up a fist and struck the disc with all of my might. The Alphae dissipated, but the disc was undamaged and now my hand was on fire with pain. Clouds formed in the sky above; like a sign from the Alphae they loomed ominously above. Thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance and then closer…and closer.
I ran to the train station as fast as I could and boarded. I was in such a rage that I did not notice the blood trickling down my hand until a concerned passenger pointed it out. I ripped my shirt and formed a makeshift tourniquet. The rage seemed to make my blood boil. At first I was beyond crying but hot tears like blood began to drip down my eyes, burning them. The storm was raging on outside the window and for a brief second I thought of Grandfather and hoped that he, like I, was not stuck somewhere in this tempest.
I reached the station just outside my parents’ flat and hesitated for a moment at the door of the train, watching the thick drops of rain fall down in a cacophony of loud, almost hypnotic noise that would be music to my ears but for the enveloping fire of rage that burned within my heart. I ran maniacally outside until I reached the lift to our floor. I was drenched from head to toe, my hand was in intoxicating pain and still oozed with blood, and I had never felt so much hatred in my being than at that moment. All of it was directed at the Alphae.
I knocked on the door and there was no answer. I assumed my parents were gone and, despite my anger, I had hoped in my heart that they were okay. I entered in the password on the keypad and the door opened. As soon as I stepped inside I turned the light on and saw a note sitting on the end table that explained that my parents had indeed gone to the temple gathering and may be staying for a week long retreat near the main temple. I did not like the idea of being alone for that long, but I found out a long time ago that my parents put the Alphae before my own well being and that they expected me to be the same way toward them.
Something in the house just didn’t seem right. I decided to go into my room and try to sleep off this rage and pain, even though I knew that it would be to no avail. As I turned the corner and the light came on what I discovered on the floor next to my bed was horrifying. Grandfather lay motionless on his back and there was saliva built up on his lips like foam. I instantly knelt down beside him and shook him. “Grandfather!” I pleaded, “Grandfather, it’s me John. Wake up. Grandfather please…I have missed you so much. I am in so much pain right now. Without you I have no one. I am lost. I am alone. Grandfather please wake up…”
I began to try to resuscitate him with my fist pounding on his chest, slowly at first, and then faster and faster, maniacally, like a madman. This went on until I collapsed with exhaustion on the floor next to him and cried out, tears streaming down my face like a waterfall. I was shaking violently all over. Suddenly, out of nowhere, something came over me and I cried out in a loud, almost preterhuman voice, “ALPHAE!!!! I WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN! MARK MY WORDS!!! I MAKE THIS VOW, YOU WILL BE VANQUISHED!!!”
Part I:
Institution
Chapter 1:
I awoke suddenly as if from a nightmare, cold sweat forming in thick beads down my temples and burning my sleepy eyes. I looked at the holographic calendar projection, hanging above my nightstand with its blue, speckled light gleaming with the streaks of my slightly blurred vision. After focusing my eyes I noticed the date. Two days had passed. I had been lying unconscious on the floor next to my dead grandfather for two days and, worse yet, his body still lied right next to me, the harrowing stench of death creeping putridly into my nostrils in an intense sensation of icy gloom.
I knew my parents would be gone for a while. They were not scheduled to come back for a week or more. There was only one thing I could do. I had no other family, no friends, no human being I could call. I calmly gathered my strength and slowly walked out of my room, down the hallway, past all the glowing depictions of that atrocious god. I approached the kitchen bar where there hung the calling monitor, just to the left of the containment receptacle. I methodically keyed in the code for the Department of Coronation’s Drone Squad (DCDS). The DCDS have been around since before the book burning when the Alphae outlawed public burials. My grandfather heard the story passed down from his grandfather before him. Apparently it caused quite a stir among the public at that time, especially with the occasional uprisings Grandfather used to tell me about in the early days of Metropolis. You see, among the ancient book of fairytales, his grandfather had also collected books on the history of our city and its formation. Amazingly, he was never caught with these items, for if he were, the only punishment available to anyone who intervened with the will of the Alphae was exile…and nothing was feared more than the perilous Wast
elands that lie beyond the borders of Metropolis, outside Quarantine, and worse of all, beyond the biospheric dome that kept us all alive and breathing.
Anyway, from what I was told, certain resistors protested in the streets over the forced cremation of all deceased citizens of Metropolis. It was not long before riots were formed and, sadly, many of these people were killed by the Sentinel Drones that patrolled the area and were deployed in times of crisis. Sad, especially, because they were dying for a cause that, in my opinion, holds little to no value or relevance. Grandfather has said that there was a rumor that a heretical cult had formed among these protestors, one that revered the practice of burial and considered it a sacred rite of the dead. Legends speak of people of old who would ritually bury their dead, and make the death of a loved one into a ceremonial act of mournful celebration…if there were such a thing.
“State your location citizen,” barked the automated voice from the other end of the calling monitor. “East Quarter Metropolis, Block 656612A.” The grief was still all too near and I was fighting back tears, but I could not bear to be near my grandfather’s decaying corpse a second longer than necessary. “One moment, please.” A public service announcement popped up on the holographic monitor, with the motto of our city and grand god, “That in all we do, be it unto the Glory of the Alphae.” In the typical fashion the Alphae’s gleaming face appeared, colors glistening with steely pride as he rose above his tropical paradise. “Citizens of Metropolis,” he began, “next month marks a new phase in the lives of our young. The next class of Institution is set to convene in a special Induction Ceremony conducted by the Prime Director of Institution, and organized by the Committee of Proctors. In this glorious event, there will be wonderment beyond imagination as I accept my loving children into my glorious arms in the binds of the best program of study and discipline this world has ever seen! The clock is counting down and in just two weeks, we will be accepting all children of the 13 year age group into our three year program of Institution. Thank you, and good luck.”