To Tame the Sentry Being

by Michael Georgiou

  Two bloodied men, who were scrapping in the road blocking his path, looked up towards him, their faces scared and stiff. Muttering awestruck babble, they both stood up, allowing Ednon to pass.

  All eyes were upon him as he walked through the utter destruction that was Asterleigh. He walked past the Temple of Yashin, whose immaculate green gardens were a sea of red flame. He walked past the Grand Library whose structure had toppled entirely. Eventually, he made his way into the centre of Asterleigh, where many of the people had congregated. Most did not know whether to bow before him or to reach for their weapons. Citizens, ranging from the oldest beggars to the youngest nobles, were staring at him in disbelief and he gazed back with the two black empty voids of his eyes.

  “Monster!” He heard one of the voices yell. “He is the one who has brought this destruction upon us!”

  Monster? he thought to himself, as he felt a single arrow strike his chest. He removed it and disintegrated it within his hand, as if it was never truly meant for the substantial world.

  “He’s not human!” Voices continued to shout in pure delirium. “Kill him! Kill him!”

  He felt not only arrows but rocks and throwing knives strike him. He did not mind the physical pain because that felt like nothing more than tiny midges biting his skin. What caused him discomfort were the ear-splitting shouts and rapid movements that he saw every particle make. His oversensitive brain was beginning to swell in agony; he felt as if he were about to explode. He let out a deep roar, and with a single wave of his hands the onlookers flew backwards as if the strongest of eastern winds had grown into a violent hurricane, knocking down a few once sturdy buildings. He placed his hands in front of his face and let out another yell as loud as thunder. He slumped to his knees. He felt so scared; he didn’t want these powers, he wanted things to go back to the way they once were. The windswept crowd had arisen back to their feet and, losing themselves to the insanity of the blood-soaked night, they charged towards him again.

  “Stay back!” Ednon begged, but to no avail.

  He saw a figure striding out in front of him, arms outstretched, attempting to block him from the assault of objects being tossed through the air. “No…” he uttered softly, recognising the sweet aroma of Amelia.

  “Ed…” she whispered as an arrow struck her through the back. He stared at her helplessly as she collapsed into his embrace. He did not acknowledge the crowd anymore; the only thing that mattered was Amelia dying in his arms. As he felt he was reaching breaking point, the small transparent diamond-eyed creature appeared to him once more, before its spiral rotated, and he knew this was the last time he would ever see this planet. Still clutching Amelia, he gazed one last time at the crowd, only to see his brother staring back at him among the sea of faces. He must have been hallucinating. There was no way that could truly be Syros? But it looked so much like him. It was Syros, there was no doubt about it. Ednon shouted desperately, but it was too late. The small creature’s eyes started to beam and he was once again engulfed by the ethereal lights.

  22

  Sechen’s Passing

  New Year

  An awed silence took hold of the streets. Only the windswept disjointed rubble lay where the disappearance through space and time had taken place. Startled faces turned to each other, completely unsure of what they had witnessed. And in the middle of the crowd stood Syros, panting heavily, his eyes wide with the most dumbfounded of wonderment.

  That was Ednon, Syros thought, as he moved away from the mass of his ill-starred fellow species; Ednon, his eyes as vacant and black as the Entity that was leading the Venians. His body too had seemed to be illuminating in the same unworldly manner. But if that was Ednon, then where was his little brother now? Was he within the stars themselves? A fitting life for someone who had spent the better part of his own stargazing. Better to be up there than down here like a doomed rat clinging onto this accursed floating rock. He gazed up towards the Star of Sechen making its annual course through the night sky. It was only an hour or so until the star hit and his species, so long destined to die out, would finally meet its end. Well, he re-examined, most of them anyway. He still had a way out, and it appeared that Ednon and their young green-eyed neighbour had also survived. Plus, who knows? Perhaps when his kind first left their world of origin, this was not the only planet that they were able to inhabit. For all he knew, there could be millions, maybe even billions, of human beings living out there on the other distant wandering stars.

  He gave one last look at the congregated mob, who had again broken into fights and pandemonium. They’re like bacteria, he mused, watching a young man savagely bash an elderly woman’s head in with a newly bloodied rock, spreading their virus throughout the universe.

  Syros walked back through the burning streets of Asterleigh, moving at a steady pace, his mind on his next move. Was he actually going to do what he was planning? He had run here ahead of Saniya, Bora and the rest of the Alpelites in one last attempt to find Ednon, but never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined finding what it was that he had seen. Ednon was always unequivocally the perfect one, but who knew it was to such an extent? The rain and wind picked up pace as he neared the entrance of the southern Asterleigh gates, where he spotted Saniya running up towards him.

  The Alpelite horde had already entered through the city gates; having sighted their God, they instantly bowed in prayer before the vacant shell. Fat load of good that’s going to do, Syros thought, as he watched the Alpelites falling to their knees. If Medzu honestly cared, would it really have allowed things to get this far?

  “Syros, were you able to find Ednon?” Saniya said, embracing him.

  “I-” he began, before stopping himself. He gave one more look around the burning city, to the men, women and children and the look of terror in each of their eyes. From out ahead, he saw a few Alpelites running up to engage the humans in a brawl. It’s always the same. Nature is consistent, no matter where in the universe you go.

  Saniya joined him in scanning around the ruins of the golden capital. “Syros, what happened here? Was it the Venians?”

  “I don’t think so… I heard explosions as I first entered the city.” Syros caressed the back of her hair, for he knew, in this moment, it was the last time that he would ever be able to do so.

  “What do we do now?” Saniya asked, looking into his eyes.

  I’m so sorry, he grieved, as he let go of her embrace for the final time. “I’m sorry, San… but I can never love you… not in the way that you want.”

  He could not look at the expression on her face as he spoke these words, for it would have broken him entirely. He merely walked away from her.

  “Syros?” he heard the voice of Bora calling to him. “Why are you leaving?”

  It’s her own fault, he reasoned to himself, walking through the burning streets. To believe in love and all its child-like wonders. She was always destined to break. Yet, despite his reasoning, he could not get the image of her dying alone out of his head; this, and the vow to her and Torjan that he had broken, he was sure would haunt him continuously until the day that he died. Oh god, why did I tell her I didn’t love her? He felt worse than a monster, viler than all demons and evil entities. However, in a strange contrast to what was playing through his mind, he felt something monumental change inside of him. For the first time, in what must have been his entire life, he no longer felt depressed.

  Amidst the raging devastation, he spotted a young girl crying alone. “Smile,” he demanded, walking up and giving her the widest smile that he could. The girl did not smile, but stopped her crying and was now studying him with what seemed like a strange curiosity. They shared mutual stares for a moment, until Syros remembered how little time he had left. Poor thing, he thought, giving the girl one last glance. But did he truly care? He wasn’t too sure anymore. He once again looked to the sky. Not long left; best to continue forwards.

&n
bsp; The wind was building strength as the time of the New Year grew ever closer. Even though Sechen had still not passed Vurtus, the night sky was slowly beginning to fill crimson. “About half an hour…” he declared, watching the Star of Sechen above him. Maybe he should go back. That would be the honourable thing to do. He cursed himself for his weakness as he passed through the West Asterleigh gates and onto Yima’s Fields, where, as previously instructed, he found the Venians.

  There were millions of them, stretching out for miles in an ocean of twinkling life. Their large emerald eyes faced upwards as they watched the star crossing through the blackness, with mouths wide-open, emitting a strange melodic tune, almost as if they were singing. This must be every single one in existence, he imagined, walking through the Venians, who had opened a pathway for him to pass. Every Venian on the planet had come to the surface for this – their final night of salvation.

  He assumed the path they were forging would lead him to the glowing Entity. The sparkling life forms took no notice of him as he made his way past; they solely carried on gazing towards the stars, while continuing their sweet melodic humming. It was a surprisingly soothing end, Syros reflected, as he listened to the hypnotic harmony of the plants. An odd way for a planet to meet its destruction, not the type of end-of-the-world stories the old drunks spoke of.

  Yet, he suddenly felt guilt flowing through him as he pictured Saniya once more. “Stop…” he grimaced aloud, clutching his head. “Please, stop.” It was not only Saniya that was entering his mind, but he was also unwillingly seeing Torjan’s cheerful face. “I’m sorry, Torj,” he whispered aloud. “But what else would you have me do?” He pictured Bora and the other Alpelites with whom he had travelled so far. He visualised the dead; Captain Raynmaher, his comrades Hurus, Petula, Steph, Freckon, even Mercivous’s menacing smile – he was seeing them as plainly as if they were standing just in front of him. You were wrong, he pondered, as the image of Mercivous’s face dissipated into the nothingness. He was not a born hero after all, he was only human, carrying all the imperfections that came along with that most strenuous task.

  It was the next face, however, that saddened him most. He saw Ira appear before him. What would you have done? he queried to himself, looking upon the old man who had raised him for almost his entire life. You have it easy; you’re already dead. Tough choices were for the living, all the dead had to do was sleep. But he knew in this moment, as he watched the face of his grandfather slowly disappearing, that he had always been a failure in his eyes. He was not the pure and perfect Ednon, and there was no one who reminded him of this more than Ira. “All your teachings on hatred were meaningless!” he shouted aloud at the elderly phantasm who had invaded his mind. “They held no value, because the whole time you hated me!” The sad spirit of his grandfather gave him one last mournful stare before it too faded into the fiery ether. “Please don’t go, Ira,” he sobbed, falling onto the grassy field. “I’m afraid.”

  His mind was darkening as he walked through the twinkling life forms, as if he was becoming less human with each step. He was forgetting his past self, losing the memory of the faces and cleansing himself of all his misgivings. All fragments of fear, joy, sorrow and love he had ever previously held were slowly evaporating – just as he knew they would.

  Although the Venians were softly illuminating the darkness with their bodies, he could make out what he assumed was the unworldly Entity not too far ahead, as his light by far shone the greatest. It must be quite beautiful to gaze out over these fields from one of the high buildings in Asterleigh. That would be a nice last sight to see, better than being one of those on the streets violently attacking one another. He continued across the hills and meadows to the largest source of glow. Eventually, he came close to the light, close enough to touch it. The wind was howling and the rain poured yet, despite this, he heard a low calm voice. “To pass between the black void. To reconfigure the fragments and matter. To separate the spirit from its transient shell. To be reborn in the endless dreams.” The Entity was sitting alone upon a rock, eyes closed and body in the meditation stance.

  “You have come…”

  “You’re surprised?” Syros returned, shockingly not feeling unnerved in the slightest, despite the being’s overwhelming presence. “I thought you would have already known my decision.”

  It closed its eyes. “My celestial awakening has given me many different powers, but to be able to see into the future… that is beyond me.”

  “Then at least tell me why you are doing this?” Syros had so many questions he wanted to get answered. “You said you were human once. If so, then who are you?”

  “I am nothing but a server of the Gods… nothing more, nor am I anything less. I’m a servant, given a task that he must abide.”

  Syros looked towards the city of Asterleigh. It was the perfect view to watch the city burn, as the flames rose to almost the heights of Medzu itself. “My brother has the same powers that you appear to have. I want you to teach me these abilities also.”

  “You will learn them…” The Entity held still within its trance. “But that will be for another time, on a different planet entirely… and first you will need to die…”

  Die? He must have misheard the glowing being, so he decided to ignore this part.

  “Why me? Why me out of everyone in the whole world?”

  “I will tell you sooner or later,” the Entity said, as if it was completely disinterested. “All our actions have been orchestrated for you to meet me here upon this night; you will be needed in the wars soon to be waged… please, human… I need to concentrate all of my energy,” it continued, waving him away.

  Syros slumped to the bespattered ground beneath him. Was that really all the explanation he was going to get? All of that wondering, to get no answer? However, not wanting to ruin his chances of escape, he sat there quietly in the mud and joined the Venians in their stare towards Sechen. Only two or so minutes until the star passed. The Venians beside him continued their singing, which caused his head to sway gently from side to side. He had no idea how he felt anymore; he was sure the real Syros must have died somewhere along the journey from Ankor, as he could no longer feel any connection to his old self. Maybe an Alpelite killed him in a great battle that he could not remember, or maybe the Venians? Or even a human for his treachery and murder of Mercivous? It could have been the hunger that finally did him in, travelling through the forest in the search for the human borders? Or he might, as he had planned so many times throughout adulthood, have finally found the courage to take his own life. The Venians’ sweet song was making him drowsy – how he wished this was all a dream. All dreams finally end, he pondered solemnly, and this one appeared to be meeting its close. Oh god, why did I tell her I didn’t love her?

  “All preparations are done…” the Entity opened both of its eyes and stood high upon its rock. “This is your last chance to appear…” It outstretched its hands; it seemed to be talking to Medzu itself. “Awaken, Lord Medzu!” the Entity called in a booming voice. Medzu, as Syros expected, did not appear to have heard, or if it had then it didn’t really care, as its shell remained motionless upon its clouds.

  Syros considered the mass of congregated Venians; he did not understand how they would all be able to leave this world. There didn’t appear to be any kind of ship. Nothing resembling a transporter. Plus, there must have been millions of Venians spread out across these fields.

  “How are we travelling? How will we be able to take all of these Venians?”

  “Let them die here along with their planet,” the being uttered, with no ounce of sympathy in its cold and emotionless voice. “You are the reason I have travelled all this way.”

  Hearing this, the Venians frantically fell to their knees. “Please, Lord!” they cried, holding their hands up. “You promised us salvation! You promised us peace!”

  The Entity widened its arms to them all as if it
were giving a sermon. “Do not despair, oh beautiful sentient life. For in the stillness of nothing, you shall find what it is you have been searching for.”

  The Venians no longer sang their beautiful humming melodies, and instead let out a loud wail that echoed through the air, sounding not too dissimilar to human weeping.

  Syros watched the Venians as they pitifully grovelled on the floor before them. At least there will be some justice there, Syros thought, as he watched the pretty flower-like life forms wallowing in despair. Yet, despite all they had done, he could not deny he felt sympathy for them.

  “Are you ready?” the Entity asked, indifferent to the Venians’ pain. “When the star hits, keep standing here next to me.”

  Syros gave a slow nod, then, continuing to watch the Venians cry for what would soon be their evanescence, his mind drifted to a question that he had wondered about so relentlessly ever since he was a small child.

  “What happens after you die?”

  For the first time, he thought he saw an expression cross the Entity’s face. It did not answer, however, and solely continued to stare skywards.

  Finally, he thought to himself, time to leave the nightmare and awaken a new person, on a new world entirely, underneath a new sky. It’s what he had always wanted and now, remarkably, he was going to get it. The rain continuing to fall and the gushing wind continuing to flow, the Star of Sechen hit and the sky plunged flame crimson. The Entity beside him started to glow and he could feel himself disappearing.

  Then, his eyes spotted something that must have been wrong. Medzu was stirring on its clouds; first, it moved its hand, then its head, before staring towards them. With loud crashes and shakes, Medzu lifted its legs and planted them upon the world’s surface. Standing at its highest, it was taller than a mountain, larger than anything Syros had previously ever seen. Completely lost within his wonderment at a sight he had never believed he would witness, Syros did not notice the single Venian rising from the ground behind him, or indeed it burying its sharp piercing arm through his back. Blood flying out of him, he gave an ear-piercing howl, before quickly withdrawing his blade and slicing the creature’s head off.