The Prophecy (Children of the River Book 1)

by Ren Curylo

  “Leaving them behind on this planet would be a heartless decision,” Líadáin said. “I’m glad to be part of the effort to include them in our trip.”

  “Is each species to be divided into ten groups so that each of our missions gets a sampling of everything?” Ársa asked.

  “Yes, providing we get enough samples. We want a minimum of two per mission, Ársa,” Commander said. “That’s why it’s imperative that we gather as many willing participants as possible in time to SSP them all, and divide them into ten groups.”

  “Who is leaving first, Commander?” Anoba asked.

  “The New Hope,” he said, “led by Roberts, I believe.” The old man was suddenly saddened, and spoke with a broken voice. “There has been a delay with Ship 10, The Israa. As you know, someone brutally murdered the young doctor we had chosen as captain for that mission. The crime occurred in Laboratory 7, and he died along with his second in command and their guard. It took us some time to replace both Doctors O’Ruairc and Broussard, and we fell behind schedule. We have named a captain, at last, so we’ll try to get the mission back on track as quickly as we can.”

  Hermolaos and Éadomhain exchanged furtive glances and they both sat up straighter with a sharper focus on Commander. “Can you tell us who it is?” Hermolaos asked.

  The Commander glowered at him for a moment before he replied, “We have made no formal announcement, nor do we plan to, so I suppose there is no harm in telling you. Pádraigín will now assume command of The Israa.”

  “What?” Hermolaos said with an outraged tone before he caught his emotions and closed his mouth. “I didn’t think anyone from that generation was…” His voice trailed off as he realized that everyone at the table was staring at him.

  Commander narrowed his eyes at Hermolaos and his voice was cool when he spoke. “Pádraigín is far more competent to command that vessel than anyone else. She was the chief designer of our fleet. No one has a more intimate knowledge of these ships than she. Besides, we could hardly award a potential criminal with such a post, and given the bank of suspects we have, we chose to go in the safest direction. We haven’t yet determined who gave the orders for them to recreate that creature, but we know someone did it because we found enough intact paperwork to indicate that they thought they were following legitimate orders.” The old man looked around the room at the troops around his table, his eyes briefly assessing each one in turn before they settled back on Hermolaos. “They were false orders,” he said, his voice growing hard. His gaze was level but cold and gauging as he stared at him for a long, hard moment before saying, “We have a suspect. However, we have no proof at this time. Because of that, we chose someone we know has a clean record rather than someone who may have otherwise been eligible for the post.”

  The other officers at the table knew that Hermolaos was next in line for the position. They all looked at one another knowingly for a quick moment before turning their eyes to Hermolaos.

  He quickly looked down, failing to meet their gaze. Éadomhain shifted a bit nervously and stared at the papers in front of her.

  Commander glared at the man a moment longer before turning back toward Ársa. “Let’s get back to the meeting, shall we?” he said gruffly. He flicked the paper in front of him. “I trust you have things under control, Ársa.”

  “Aye, Commander. I’ll gather as many of my Envoy as possible to comb what’s left of the world for as many creatures as we can find,” Ársa said.

  “Very well,” Commander said. “You may all work on this project, but as I have stated, do not let it interfere with your other duties. You have short of seven months until departure. All specimens, samples and SSP’s must be filed, registered, and packed at least two months before departure.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Ársa said.

  “Now, we have to address a matter that the Council has brought up. As you know, the oldest, longest-serving members of the Council still adhere to some ancient beliefs regarding family and personal lives. Since they make up a majority of the panel at this point, they have requested that some of you be…um…paired before departure to be assured that those traditions will continue.” “What does that mean?” Éadomhain asked.

  “Is it a request or a directive?” Ársa asked.

  Commander shook his head. “Perhaps the term ‘requested’ is used a bit euphemistically. They have decreed that you actually marry. I assume they are in hopes that you will continue our lineages in your new worlds. They aren’t expecting all of you to make it and therefore think it’s prudent to see to it that you have replacements in line. As many of you know, one of their oldest customs was to arrange marriages for the young members of their societies. Council chooses these partners without the consent of the parties involved and these arrangements are often done to forge alliances or to consolidate wealth. They want their customs to continue at least among some of you, so they will see you joined before your mission leaves here. I have a list here,” he said, pulling a folded up paper from his pocket. He flipped it over to Ársa. “A couple of you present today are affected by this decision.”

  Everyone seated at the table held their breaths. None of them was the least bit interested in marrying anyone.

  Commander continued, “They have determined that you, Hermolaos and Éadomhain are to be wed immediately. You will, of course, be expected to have…ah…relations with one another. We managed to talk them out of routine pregnancy tests before departure, but we were unable to sway them on demanding proof of consummation.”

  “Not forcing conception is fortunate, since we don’t know if traveling is safe for pregnant women,” Ársa said. “That could be subjecting people to unknown and undue problems, not to mention the stress of the entire thing.”

  “The Council didn’t care about that. They said the medical officers will be able to take care of any issues any of the pregnant women may exhibit.”

  “Grannus is our best healer by far, Commander. Some of the other ships aren’t as fortunate as we are. The risk of something going wrong is too great. We don’t know how this whole project is going to go, even without the added burden,” Anoba said.

  Commander shook his head and held up his hand. “At least we managed to talk them down on that point. The marriages, on the other hand, didn’t fare as well. It’s not a negotiable point. Éadomhain, you, and Hermolaos will report to the Council in two hours, to exchange your vows immediately. I’m aware of at least nine other couples being joined at the same time. It’s an order, and it’s not optional.”

  Éadomhain’s face was a mixture of emotions. A war between excitement and resentment struggled across her fine features. Anoba surmised this was something akin to an answer to her prayers. It was clear she loved the lout. Anoba wondered how long that love would last before the lecherous bastard’s true nature jaded the woman’s enthusiasm.

  “There’s a dinner scheduled for all of you making this journey. Party and enjoy the night as much as possible. It’s also to celebrate the marriages the Council has ordained, so drink up, have fun, and get started on your jobs as early as possible tomorrow. Good night, all, this meeting is adjourned.” The Commander slapped his hands on the table and vanished from the meeting room.

  Hermolaos and Éadomhain left together, both of them somewhat in shock, each careful not to touch the other as they made their way through the door and out to the Council Hall across the compound.

  The others sat and discussed the gathering of Fae for a while before they worked their way to the cafeteria for dinner.

  4 months, 2 weeks later

  Nearing the End Phaedrus 30

  Ársa & Moriko “Well, why not?” Ársa asked his companion. “We’ve been friends since we were young, well before The Alterations.” It was a rare, clear day, and the air quality improved as they moved further away from home base. As they walked along, they found they didn’t need their facemasks, and they hung those devices on their belts awaiting their return to what laughably passed as civiliz
ation.

  Moriko looked up at him, quite a stretch for he was nearly a foot and a half taller than she was, and said, “Because we’ve been friends since we were young—well since I was young—you’re a little long in the tooth.” She said it with a glint of humor in her eye.

  Ársa knew she was kidding and the age difference didn’t matter to either of them in the least. Besides, there wasn’t that much of a difference. Ten? Fifteen years? A hundred ten? That was nothing since they no longer aged due to The Alteration. “Don’t you think being friends is a good basis for having sex?”

  “Ársa, I love you. I’ve loved you since I first saw you.” “And I love you too, Moriko, but doesn’t that make my argument for me? Take off your pants,” he finished his plea with a rakish grin that lit his blue eyes with a twinkle.

  Moriko’s golden-brown eyes sparkled with love and humor as she looked at him. They stopped walking through the forest and turned to face each other. “Let me remind you that the first time I ever saw you, you were getting in the pants of some girl you’d met moments before.”

  Ársa shrugged. “I like the ladies, Moriko,” he said dismissively, though he knew his penchant for roaming was a real obstacle for her. The problem was, he truly loved Moriko, and if she’d only give him the time of day, he’d be faithful to her. “But,” he continued, taking her hands in his. “I love you more. It’s private here, no one would ever know if you didn’t want them to.”

  Moriko shook her head. Her lips trembled. She wanted him. She loved him with all her heart. But he scared the shit out of her at the same time. He was—in charge of everything. She had vowed he would never be in charge of her in such a personal way. He may be her commander, he may be the savior of all these races and beings and creatures, but she had made up her mind that no matter what, she would never need him. Not that way.

  At the sight of her trembling lips, Ársa bent close, wrapping her tiny frame in his massive arms. He held her to him and lifted her easily so he didn’t have to bend so far. He kissed her with a passionate fire that ignited them both. Moriko wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and she returned his kisses with a fire that matched his own.

  After their kiss, he held her for a long time without speaking. His fingers began to caress her buttocks as he held her in his hands.

  Moriko looked at him and shook her head. “Still not going to happen, Ársa,” she said. “I have to protect myself.”

  “You know you won’t get pregnant unless we both want it,” he said. “And agree to it. The Alteration did that for us, no matter what other messed up shit it did.”

  “That’s a good thing, but it’s not the protection I mean. What’s going to stop you from going off immediately to the next pretty face you see? You want too many women, Ársa, and I don’t want to play that game. You’re a whore.”

  Ársa feigned surprise and indignation. “I am not. I never charge a dime for my services.”

  Moriko giggled and wriggled out of his arms. She slid slowly down the length of him until her feet touched the ground. Once standing, she ducked out of his grasp and giggled again. “Let’s get on with finding those Fae creatures, you goober. Our time is growing short.”

  “You are far too serious, Moriko, my forest girl.” Ársa was only a little disappointed. He had not expected her to agree to his suggestion, but at least he had gotten one fiery, passionate kiss from this girl that he desired more than any other.

  They walked together for another hour, side by side, talking softly, and laughing often. They were each completely relaxed with the other. They were always at peace when they were alone together.

  The forest where they walked could no longer be considered such under the classical definition. Most of the trees here, and almost everywhere, now, were dead. The few still living were stunted and deformed. They stood, dark, sinister silhouettes, their limbs and boughs twisted like bony, macabre fingers. Here and there a living tree tried valiantly to thrive, Moriko knew it was only a matter of time before they, too, succumbed to the blight ravaging their home world. The only benefit to being here instead of in the compound was the fact that there was far less dust blowing everywhere. It uplifted their spirits to spend a precious few days out here, searching for Fae.

  As they walked on, the forest exhibited subtle changes. There were a few more live trees growing, stunted and huddled together. The green of their leaves was more a pale, sickly yellow than a true green. That most of them still had even a few leaves was remarkable.

  “Look,” Moriko said, stopping, and pointing to her right, into a grove of twisted birch trees sporting sparse plumage. “There’s the Lilitu clearing on the other side of these birches. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, though it’s hardly changed. I hope they are as friendly as they used to be.”

  “Let’s go in invisible, in case they aren’t,” he said.

  “They might be able to see us even then, and it might give them the idea that we mean them harm. Let’s go to the edge of the clearing and ask permission to enter,” she said.

  “Smart girl, that’s why I pay you the big bucks,” he said.

  She smiled. While her abilities should have been enough to earn her place in this mission, she wondered if she owed her presence, in part, to Ársa’s desire for her and possibly her longenduring friendship with Anoba. Due to her small stature and her original family’s abject poverty, many of the other members were opposed to her joining them. They didn’t think she could pull her weight. They were wrong, of course, but it bothered her nonetheless to think that sexual desire was behind her placement when it should have been only her skill and abilities.

  “It isn’t, you know,” Ársa said, looking down at his companion.

  “What isn’t?” she asked, frowning.

  “It isn’t why I chose you for the team.”

  “What?”

  “My desire for you isn’t why I chose you. Anoba’s relationship with you isn’t either. I chose you because you’re the best there is, and I’d be stupid not to have you on my side. Dr. Roberts knows it too. I had to fight for you to get you on my team; otherwise, you’d be part of his crew. My desire for you is a bonus enticement.”

  “You shouldn’t be poking into people’s private thoughts, Ársa, it’s impolite.”

  “Someday, you’ll change your mind.”

  “Not in a million years, Ársa,” she said.

  “I’ll wait,” he said with a smile. He took her hand and kissed it.

  She shook her head and pulled her hand away as she started forward toward the colony in the clearing.

  They walked through the grove of birch trees, stepping gingerly and moving as quietly as possible. At the edge of the clearing, they stood together for a few moments, looking at what was before them. The awe of what she saw was as overwhelming as the last time she was here. The clearing wasn’t as large as she remembered. There were mounds with doors and windows. At least a dozen of them were scattered in a loose ring around the central open area.

  “Wow,” Ársa said in awe.

  “Is this your first visit here?” Moriko asked him.

  “It is,” he said with a nod. “You and Anoba handled all the negotiations to get all the genetic smears from them before.”

  “Call to them,” she whispered, “ask them permission to enter their space.”

  Ársa inhaled deeply.

  “Ask them politely,” she said cautiously. “Don’t ask them with that pompous ‘I’m in charge’ persona you use with Hermolaos.”

  “Hermolaos is a jerk,” Ársa said. “He deserves that attitude.”

  “He’s jealous of you,” Moriko said reasonably. “He wants your job.”

  Ársa looked at her and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You’re defending him. He hasn’t,” Ársa faltered, the thought was too distasteful for him to finish the sentence. “You didn’t,” he faltered again.

  Moriko giggled. Her laughter continued until it became a rich belly laugh that ec
hoed through the forest. “You colossal dumb ass,” she gasped at last. “You think I would turn down the likes of you and go instead to a real shit bag like Hermolaos? He’s dipped his wick in every hole that won’t bite him.”

  “Well, I guess if you put it that way, all romantic like that,” Ársa said. A movement caught his eye and his attention fully fastened on the colony in front of him.

  Moriko whispered, “Look, someone is coming out.”

  “Hello,” Ársa called as politely as possible. “We’d like to speak to your king or queen, if we may.”

  “Your queen,” Moriko said with a smile.

  A thin woman with fiery red hair, hanging in waves down to her calves, stepped out of one of the doors on a mound near the center of the clearing. She was about Moriko’s height, but not nearly as sturdy or muscular. She was exquisitely beautiful, fair and delicate. She wore a thin white gown that flowed around her legs and arms.

  “Hail, Lady,” Ársa said, giving her a slight wave to draw her attention, but he made no move to step forward. He knew that Fae creatures could be quite volatile and he didn’t want to provoke an attack. Even knowing their tendency toward volatility, he was determined that they would have a role in any future worlds he had a part in creating.

  The woman looked his way and inclined her head. She walked toward them fearless in her stance. She did not, however, step into the forest with them. “Good day,” she said, her voice was soft and honeyed.

  “I am Ársa,” he said, “and this is my friend Moriko.” He indicated his partner with a slight hand gesture. He didn’t want to scare the young woman before him and cause her to do anything rash that he would sorely regret later.

  The woman smiled, her face growing radiantly beautiful. She had bright green eyes. “I am familiar with Moriko,” she said. “I see her often in the forest. She is a valiant caretaker of all that we hold dear. She is welcome here in our colony. And if she says you are worthy, Ársa, you shall be welcome, too.” The woman turned and looked expectantly at Moriko.