To Tame the Sentry Being

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To Tame the Sentry Being Page 10

by Michael Georgiou


  Ethna gave a nod. “Do you remember what I told you about my father telling me to grab opportunities firmly? I very much took his words to heart. Please do come and visit us sometime soon, Ed.” She gestured to the old Robles and together they walked out of the cemetery, leaving Ednon, now feeling a little perplexed, standing alone in front of his grandfather’s grave.

  After he had finished in the cemetery, he decided to walk through the meadows to Eos Lake. He made this journey a part of his weekly routine whenever he travelled to Ira’s burial place. Usually he would take a book to read or, when the weather was especially hot, much like it was today, he would go for a short swim within the lake’s still waters. The weather, to everybody’s surprise, had still not cooled down. In fact, it had only become hotter as the days passed by. No one could explain this dramatic change within the ecosystem, apart from the drunks he passed throughout Asterleigh who, like with most things, claimed it was a sign of the world’s imminent destruction. Usually, he would make his way past them without a second thought. However, with the words of the phantom he had met in the Grand Library constantly in his mind, he now gave their claims more attention. And the verdict at which he arrived caused terror to run through him. It was a type of fear he could only compare with the kind he had felt as a young child after realising that one day he would die, without any way of changing that inevitable outcome. He had locked himself in his room and cried for an entire week, after coming to the inner conclusion that nothing lasts forever.

  Walking on the shores of Eos, he sat down beside the slow-moving tide. The sunlight reflected from the surface and into his eyes. He sat off the cuff of the water that pressed against his feet as it moved back and forth. He had been to the lake many times while growing up, with Ira and his brother; it had always given him a sense of calm and serenity. Not too far to his right a family played together. Two young children – a boy and a girl – and the parents sitting on the shore, basking underneath the suns. The children appeared so happy as they splashed one another, without a single other worriment. He craved longingly to return to that state, to once again feel like his old self, but that seemed like the most distant of hopes. Things could never go back to normal, of that he was certain. Small one-eyed fish only an inch-wide circled by his feet. They cast his mind back to the creature he had met on the night of Ira’s death. It had not been there when he had gone back to the farm days later. He wondered where it was. A creature that beautiful should not be on this planet. It shouldn’t be anywhere near here. He picked up a stone and skimmed it across the lake, which caused ripples that disturbed the water’s stillness. Ednon had travelled down to Eos not long after Ira’s funeral, his mind feeling confused and chaotic; that was where Amelia had come to find him.

  They had sat in silence observing the lake’s tranquil surface, until she placed her head upon his shoulder. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  She grasped his arm gently. “I am here for you… we are all here for you.”

  He turned and considered her bright-green eyes. “I feel as if I am in a dream,” he said, as the small, transparent, single-eyed fish nibbled between the toes of his naked foot. “That I am not really here beside you, as if this is not my real life, and that someday I shall wake up away from all of this.”

  He remembered her face brightening. “My dearest Ednon… if it is true that you are merely sleeping, and if you are only here beside me because of a dream, then I hope you do not ever wake up.”

  “Daddy…” he heard the young girl speak. “What is that creature there?”

  He looked over at the family. The young girl was pointing towards a fierce light from underneath the water. From where he was sitting he could not see what creature she was talking about, but the light seemed familiar, as a strange yet esoteric feeling gripped him. Drawn to it, as if something unworldly was in control of his actions, he walked across the shore and closer to the source of the bright underwater illumination.

  Her father scanned the water’s surface. “I have no idea, sweetheart.”

  Ednon was at a better angle and could indeed see something within the waters. Whatever it was, it was shining in and out of brightness, and he could see the outline moving underneath the tides. Then, as quick as a flash, the creature’s head appeared. It had large diamond-shaped eyes, an almost non-existent nose and mouth, and a strange spiral marking across its forehead. It was undoubtedly the same strange life form that he had found underneath the stars before the moment of Ira’s death. It swam towards them using its two small flippers for thrusting, causing ripples to run throughout the lake.

  “Mummy!” The young girl jumped up and down. “It’s coming towards us…”

  The child wasn’t wrong. The little animal was indeed heading towards them, and at some pace. It reached the shore and made its way onto solid ground. Now that its full body was in view, it was without question the same creature. The family’s faces were filled with shock as it moved upon Ednon. It trudged its way to his ankles, lifted its head and gave a small cheerful squeak before beginning to rub against him gently.

  “Whatever it is… it holds some affection towards you,” the man said, watching them both with astonishment. Ednon knelt and petted the shining organism’s oval-shaped head.

  “Where in all the stars did that come from?” the father continued, as his small children also felt confident enough to edge closer. Ednon wondered this himself – in fact, he had wondered about it continuously ever since his first encounter on that fateful night. Without warning, the spiral upon the creature’s forehead started to glow and all traces of it disappeared, as if it had never truly been there to begin with.

  “What on…” the man marvelled. Collectively, the five of them looked at each other, the same level of bewilderment spread across each of their faces.

  Ednon walked back through the streets of East Asterleigh, his mind on the latest encounter with the small transparent life form. How did it disappear, in the way that it had? All logic dictated that what he had witnessed was utterly impossible. But he had seen it, and unless his eyes and mind were lying to him, it was real. Why did the life form appear to him, much like the shadow in the library? Why had they chosen him; was he so special? He did not feel special. He felt very much ordinary and insignificant. He could not change the path down which the fellow members of his race seemed to be heading – how could he, when he couldn’t even change the path of his own sibling? His and all his race’s destinies were out of his hands. He could only act the spectre and watch the movements of time play out. Is this what you must feel, Medzu? he thought, as he approached the great statue stationary within the sky. Do the gods weep at the actions of the lowly life forms? No, he thought cynically. Medzu does not care about us, or any of the other gods for that matter. If they did, then why do they also only act like ghosts? If Medzu is watching, then why does it not appear, like it did within my dreams, to save us all from our own intrinsic slaughter? He hoped gods were not real, because if they were then he hated them for their insouciance. No god, no matter how powerful, deserves your unconditional love when it is so plainly not returned. We are nothing but specks of dust twirling within infinite chaos, abandoned and alone – of this, he was now utterly convinced.

  Approaching his new home, he was surprised to see a crowd had gathered outside Mundie’s Tavern. The mob was so thick that he could not make his way past or even get a sight of the military-frequented inn. But he did see black smoke rising fiercely up into the sky, and the smell of ash too was beginning to manifest underneath his nose. He moved closer, trying to gain some insight into what had caused the commotion. He was making his way through the muttering crowd when a hand grabbed him, stopping his advance.

  “Do not come any closer, child,” said the elderly man, whose arm had stopped him. “This sight should not be for your eyes.”

  “What happened?” Ednon asked, confused by the emotio
ns many were displaying.

  The elderly man did not answer and instead gazed sorrowfully towards the ground. The others who had gathered held haunted expressions while many had tears in their eyes. Not getting his answer, he pushed past and saw what the commotion was about. Mundie’s Tavern lay before him, in a pile of smoking ruins. Not only was the building destroyed beyond recognition, but body parts too lay scattered across the streets, much like red paint spilt across an enormous canvas. He now recognised the emotion; it was terror that gripped them all. Surveying the area soaked with the blood of the once joyous crowd, whose lives had been viciously cut short, his eyes fell on a young girl, who could not have been older than five, lying motionless on the unhallowed soil. An explosion? It must have been another attack. That could have been Am… he thought, feeling his heart plummet to the bottom of his chest. Rage consumed him, while disgust suddenly burst his spirit wide-open. He remembered what he had thought at Ira’s funeral, and how the human race was nothing but a virus. Clenching his fists, the shadow’s words of the world’s destruction played through his mind. Perhaps it is truly time, he pondered, staring into the eyes of the dead child, and perhaps the sooner the better.

  Tales from the Past

  The First Kill

  “What are you doing?”

  He lifted his eyes to see three boys from his village of Jovian peering at him speculatively.

  “Reading…” Ednon responded cautiously.

  “My dad says your grandfather is a coward and a friend to the savages,” said Thumnas, the largest of the three. “He says he is a traitor to the human race.”

  Ednon kept silent; he knew where this situation was leading. The chubby lad had always hated Ednon ever since he could remember. He was four years older at the age of ten and was much bigger and stronger. Nor did he appear to place much stock on intellect. Thumnas often made threats to Ednon whenever he saw him, though when Syros was around the lad would not dare persist with the taunts.

  “Where’s your brother, traitor?” Thumnas violently kicked him. “My father says he is a wild animal that needs to be put down.”

  “I’m not sure,” Ednon answered. “He’s probably at home.”

  Thumnas kicked him once again, which caused the other two boys to laugh. “At home with your traitor grandfather? Not so brave without your brother to protect you, are we, coward?”

  Ednon quickly checked his surroundings. It was only the four of them in one of the many fields that connected Jovian village. He had come out here to do some studying as Ira had instructed him to, as it was a sunny day and he should not spend it all indoors. It appeared that no one else was around, so for the time being he would have to deal with this situation himself. The three lads were much bigger and all older than Ednon, plus he had never been in a brawl before; chances are he would have no idea what to do.

  “Fight me, coward,” the lad demanded.

  “My grandfather tells me not to…”

  “Coward!” Thumnas kicked him again, more viciously than he had previously. The two cronies laughed and kicked Ednon as well. Ednon tried to stand but one of the boys pushed him back to the ground, where they instantly booted him once more. “This is what cowards get! This is what cowards get!” The boys screamed in excited delirium.

  Then, from out of nowhere, like a lion jumping on its prey, Syros leapt onto Thumnas and rained down heavy punches upon the lad. The other two screamed in terror and pelted off through the meadows. At first, Ednon assumed the plethora of blood was something common in all fights. It was only afterwards, and following the subsequent reaction of his grandfather and all the other parents, that he realised Syros had a sharpened rock within his hand. Thumnas was now vigorously shaking as Syros continued to pound his face into the dirt. Thud. Thud. Blood was gushing out of the young lad’s eyes; his face was completely drenched in red.

  “Stop, Sy!” Ednon pleaded, but to no avail. Syros continued the pummelling. Thumnas was now emitting strange guttural breaths as he coughed out more and more blood. Ednon rose to his feet and attempted to tame his brother, but Syros appeared too lost in his exorcism to care. He began to cry, feeling utterly terrified, until a few adults from the village came, drawn by his loud hysterics, and forcibly restrained his brother.

  A meeting was held in the village centre, where all parents and guardians came to discuss the problem that was Syros; even Amelia’s parents, Abacus and Jernett, were present in an attempt to solve the ever-uncontrollable dilemma. Ira informed them all that he would do everything in his power to prevent such actions from happening again. The lad Thumnas survived the assault, although the scars and mental trauma were perhaps something that never left him. Ednon still saw him within the village from time to time even now, but it appeared something had changed inside him. He usually kept to himself, taking care of the farm animals, and never did he send a taunt Ednon’s way again. He was not sure how he felt about this at the time, but the fact that he no longer had to deal with the constant abuse was something he was thankful for. However, looking back on it now made him feel sadness. Although the lad lived, breathed and even talked, it was as if something intrinsic in the boy’s nature had left him and he was now a little less human.

  After the meeting, the day turned to night; he remembered his grandfather slamming the door of the cottage once the three of them had returned home. His grandfather very rarely got angry, but on this occasion the man was seething.

  “What are you?” Ira directed his words towards Syros, who was sitting sheepishly on one of the chairs in the dining room. “Are you a beast or a man? You almost killed him, Syros!”

  “He deserved it! He was attacking Ednon! All your talk of turning the other cheek, about not rising to aggravation, it means nothing when you’re faced with real threat…”

  Ednon idly doodled on a piece of paper; he had heard this argument between the two so many times, he knew each of the points that were bound to be made.

  “If you’re going to act like a beast, then perhaps I should treat you like a beast; you shall not leave your room for a minimum of two weeks. My goodness, lad, people are becoming scared of you.”

  “I hate you and I hate living here. I wish you had died instead!”

  “You think I do not wish the same thing?” Ira paused, remembering this was a conversation that Ednon probably should not be hearing. He regained his poise. “Sometimes, Syros, I worry you truly are beyond saving.”

  “Good,” Syros retorted. “As soon as I’m old enough, I’m going to enlist in the military and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  The silence had returned. Ednon could feel the ever-present tension filling their surroundings.

  His grandfather stood still, contemplating his next words carefully. “You are still too young to be making those decisions; one day, Syros, you will find that the only true conflict is the one that is happening inside of you.”

  Syros got up from his chair and stormed past them. Ednon in turn picked up his books and followed his brother.

  “Ednon,” his grandfather called. “Let Syros be by himself; you still have your studying to do.”

  “No, it’s okay, I’ll do it in my room.”

  “Okay… goodnight, Ednon.”

  Now alone in their room, Syros rummaged in his pockets and threw an object upon Ednon’s lap. It was a pointed rock, stained with blood.

  “There you go, Ed, you can have it.”

  “I don’t want it…”

  “Ed, I want you to know that what I did, I did for you.”

  Ednon studied the rock once more, before getting up to open the window. The curtains billowed as the cold air rushed into the room. He felt the weight of the rock in his hand as he raised his arm and hurled it as far as he could.

  “Fine. Be like everyone else. You can hate me as well…” his brother grumbled, as he positioned himself into his bed.

 
“What would have happened if they did not stop you?” Ednon asked, his gaze caught by the sight of lights still visible in Thumnas’s family cottage. “Would you have killed him, brother?”

  “Go to sleep, Ednon,” Syros responded, pulling the sheets over his head.

  Ednon could not rest that night; his mind was on his brother, asleep only a couple of feet from him. And how, even at such a young age, he had only been moments away from taking his first life.

  10

  Human

  The wretched feeling of dread followed Syros with each footstep that he took. He looked towards Mercivous, who was leading out in front. Truly, was he not human? he asked himself, watching the back of Mercivous’s ethereal white hair as it swayed in the breeze. He had met many stronger and many fiercer, but never someone so terrifying. Something was not right, but he could not place his finger on it exactly. But whatever it was caused iciness to manifest inside of him. He no longer worried about the Alpelites and what they might do to him if he were captured. At least they would give him the sweet relief of death. His main worry was what the dead-eyed monster, who resembled so closely a human, was capable of, now that he had a little authority at his disposal.

  Having already left their horses in a nearby military encampment, the eight of them made their way up the mountains searching for the village that they had been ordered to detain, and only detain. The rumours were true; there were many squadrons who had made their way east and were now spread across the rocky wastelands.

  Once they had stabled the horses, they straightaway headed towards their objective. He wondered what he would find there, how similar or indeed dissimilar was the Alpelites’ way of life compared to his own. Raynmaher told them the chances of any level of combat was extremely low as Captain Simms’ squadron had already dealt with the hostiles, leaving only unarmed peasants and farmers remaining in the village.

 

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