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Her Merciless Prince

Page 10

by Daniella Wright


  This isn’t a battle I can win.

  But, as I watch Sybil walking toward us, purpose pumping life into her limbs, blond hair reflecting the blue lightning from above, my heart breaks a bit at the thought of losing her, right after finally having found her.

  Out of time.

  I can’t believe it. I thought Sybil would shun us after the morning's revelation.

  “I know where your parents are,” she says, eyes lit with excitement.

  “You do?” Starz and I speak at once.

  She nods. “Come on!” We drop everything and follow.

  I follow her, like a bright beacon offering hope. If only she knew what helping us means... I push that thought far away and focus on following her.

  She brings us to the center of the village to what they refer to as the shrine. It’s not really a shrine— you can’t enter it. It’s an egg-like construction. But I know what it is the second my eyes fall on it.

  It’s an escape pod, perfectly preserved.

  I put my hand on it. It’s cool still. The metallic compound would feel almost like a rock to the untrained eye.

  But it could be any escape pod. It doesn’t mean that it’s my parents’. It doesn’t mean that it’s anyone’s from that ship— unless it’s marked with the royal symbol, of course. I go around it slowly, keeping my hand on it as if to ground me.

  Starz stands quietly to the side, arms crossed, watching me. Sybil is watching me as well, curiosity, not worry, in her eyes.

  I do a full circle around it, but still, I don’t see the markings. But, they might be hidden or covered. I get on my knees and I brush away some of the plants nearby. And there I see it - a circle representing our blood moon, with a crown, superimposed on top.

  I run my finger over it, as if to feel it, to touch every one of its curves, make it more real to me.

  “This is my family’s symbol,” I whisper. I look back towards Sybil. “This is my parents’ escape pod. It can’t be anyone else’s.”

  I stand up, look towards her and smile.

  She walks to me and looks down at the symbol.

  “I’ve never even seen that!” she says. “I guess it’s been covered for so long, and we tend not to touch the shrine. It’s a holy object for us,” She glances my way. “I suppose for you, as well.”

  “This is what I’ve been looking for,” I say. “My parents... my parents are probably in here.”

  For a second, I wonder if they’re still alive. Escape pods can go into a cryogenic mode when under difficult conditions, or when landing in areas where rescue might take a long time. It preserves the bodies, makes sure that life will continue once the pod is found. There are stories of escape pods found centuries after they were ejected from their ships, with inhabitants that could be resurrected within them.

  It’s the stuff of legends, myths and stories, but also of scientific treatises. I look back to Starz.

  “They might still be alive.” Starz’ arms stay crossed. He doesn’t give me an opinion either way. I don’t think he wants to. Maybe to avoid shattering my last bit of hope? Well, too bad, this time I’m grabbing onto hope. And I’m holding on to it damn hard.

  I go around the escape pod, searching carefully this time for any seam. I find one about mid-way around on the back. I press on it and manage to open the control panel. There’s no power. None of the junctions are lit.

  The panel is dead and tells me nothing about what happened to the inhabitants inside.

  I try to bring up the battery power remaining in the control pod— a battery that could be regenerated through various power sources, including the sun. Or by a particular sort of radiation but maybe none of them could be found on this planet.

  “Come on…!” I whisper, hitting a few switches, trying to get it to turn back on. Maybe it’s just this panel that’s dead, maybe the rest of the escape pod is fine inside it.

  My fists strike it, frustrated. I close my eyes, lower my forehead against the cool exterior of the escape pod.

  A hand touches my arm. It’s Sybil. She gives me a thin smile when I look her way.

  “Is the pod dead?” she whispers.

  It’s dead, I want to say. But I can’t, because if the pod is dead, it means that my parents are dead inside. It means that the hope that I just finally grabbed onto has let me down. The pod is dead, the inhabitants have to be dead.

  But maybe not.

  “We’ll have to open it to find out,” I say, but I already know. I already know what I’m going to find inside. If none of the circuits are working outside, it means that nothing is powering the inside either.

  I reach into the console and pop off the panel. I lay it carefully down. Behind it are some of the automatic release latches which can be manually opened in case of a failure like this one. I press one and pull one up. There’s an extra security code there which I can input. The royal family all knows it— so do the royal guards— just in case the king and queen’s escape pod is ever captured.

  The only enemy they’d faced here was time. Time, and a loss of power. But time had definitely been the bigger enemy. It wasn’t that it had taken us a few weeks to find them, but that they’d landed in a time rift, and had been thrown back centuries. It was too long for their escape pod to survive.

  Too long to save them.

  I punch in the code, and I hear a click. The escape pod begins to open. I step back, take Sybil’s hand and bring her with me so that she doesn’t get hit as the hatch begins to lower.

  I will not look away. I will not shy away from whatever awaits me inside the escape pod. But still, I hold Sybil’s hands as I see the royal crowns first, and then faces. They still look like my parents but long gone. Their bodies are dried husks, mummified by time— so much time.

  Too much time.

  They’re holding each other. They had seen their deaths coming. They had known that they were taking their last few breaths and they spent them together. And they chose to just hold onto one another, and face eternity together, rather than trying to escape their fate.

  “They’re beautiful,” Sybil says and squeezes my hand gently. I can’t disagree with her.

  They are beautiful, in their own way, in the way that statues remind you of things long gone. But not in the way of the living.

  “We failed,” The words slip out of my mouth before I even think about them. Starz steps beside me, puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “No, Prince Eron. We have found the bones of your parents. And with them, we can change the course of history— of this timeline, at least. We can reset the time rift with this DNA. Not all is lost, and we have not failed.”

  It’s true what he says. I believe his words, but I also know that I’ll forever remember the sight of my dead parents. I also know, from holding Sybil’s warm hand in mind, that once the timeline’s reset, I will also be haunted by the sight of Sybil vanishing into the time rift. Maybe even gone from my dreams.

  No matter what happens from this moment on, the only thing that I’m sure of is that I’ll live haunted.

  Chapter 18

  Sybil

  I can’t believe that the shrine had always been an object from the stars. Well no, maybe that part I could believe. After all, legends tell us that it was from the stars, but that it happened to be Eron’s parents trapped inside their own coffin in the middle of our village?

  That’s amazing.

  I can’t help but ask myself more questions. How did this impact the change to our timelines, or the apparent change that occurred centuries ago? Did this have anything to do with my dreams of Eron? Perhaps their race was somewhat telepathic and had infused thoughts of him in mine, and I had interpreted them in my own way. Could that be possible? I don’t want to ask Eron about that— he doesn’t know about the dreams, and I’m certainly not about to tell him. Not now— not at this point when he’s so close to achieving what he needs to reset the timeline.

  What does this mean for my people, my planet? Does it even matter? We’
re dying. The latest radiation mutations might be enough to undo all of our crops. If our village is suffering this way, then the rest of the survivor pockets must be suffering the same way. Eventually our own technology will fail us, the radiation will win, and we’ll all die… just like the beast that couldn’t survive in this world.

  Maybe my people are just in a slow death spiral, the radiation eating at us like the acid ate the beast’s skin.

  I mean, maybe this is for the best, right? Maybe landing a killing blow to this aberrant timeline shouldn’t be as difficult a decision as it was to kill the beast.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  I turn around and see Glast standing there with several villagers backing him. They all look ready for a fight. Weapons at the ready— several crossbows, clubs and staffs in hand.

  “You can’t just go around opening the shrine, or even touching it! It’s a sacred object— it belongs to the village, to all of us!” Glast spits out the words.

  “It doesn’t belong to the village!” I stand before them. “It belongs to Eron and his family. These are his parents within it! Show some respect!” I sense Eron and Starz standing behind me. I’m not alone. I’m not alone and I know it. Because to me, they are real.

  We are the anomaly here; I want to tell the villagers. But I won’t. I can’t. They’re already panicked by us touching some giant rock that hasn’t done anything for centuries— imagine if I told them they’re about to vanish!

  “That’s a convenient story!” Glast continues. “So they just show up, and open up the shrine which apparently has some riches inside of it?” He greedily eyes the jewels on the bodies of the king and queen. “And you expect us to just let him take them? Take the bodies with him? Take the riches and leave us here with nothing!”

  Eron tenses beside me. I take another step forward, hoping to head off any conflict. I’d seen what Eron could do, after all.

  “Listen Glast,” I hold up my hands in a defensive posture. “These are his parents. I will vouch for him. There is no reason for this conflict. And this shrine has really done nothing except mark the center of our village. Do you really need to come to blows over something so unimportant? These are our guests. We cannot disrespect them this way!”

  He turns redder. He’s getting more pissed off. This isn’t quite working out. Jordain steps up beside him.

  “Ever since they’ve come here, they’ve been nothing but trouble,” he says, looking at me. “They’ve been taking our food and our women…”

  I feel myself flush. There was no taking to be done! I wasn’t his to start with! I was nobody’s except my own!

  I cut him off. “They’ve done no such thing, Jordain! They are here as our guests, and we shall treat them as such! If this is their property, then they’re entitled to take it, just as we’d be entitled to take any of our property, which—” I hold up my hand to stop him from jumping in— “No one is another person’s property!”

  It’s his turn to turn red.

  He takes another step forward, looking ready to attack Eron. Well, that’s not going to end well. Not for Jordain, anyway. Glast stops him.

  “You can have the dead people,” he says, disrespecting their title, “but the fineries are ours.”

  Eron steps beside me. He stands at his full height and doesn’t appear intimidated by the throng of villagers before him. He stares at Glast with narrowed eyes. I can tell that Glast is trying to hold his ground, but under Eron’s royal stare, he’s having a hard time doing so.

  I try to suppress a smile. It’s nice to see Glast shying away from somebody.

  “The riches,” Eron says, “are my family’s. And have been passed down for generations in my family. I will take them with my parents’ bodies, and I will leave you the escape shuttle, which we will close again, and it will look exactly as it did before. It will continue to serve as your shrine. If we hadn’t opened this, you would be none the wiser, anyway. At least now you know the answer to the mystery of where this came from.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Glast jumps in. Jordain goads him on.

  “You’re right Glast, that isn’t good enough! The strangers want to use our riches! We might be able to melt down those metals for our technology, or maybe exchange it with other villagers…”

  Eron takes another step forward. This time, the two men take a step back. Several of the villagers at the back disperse, not wanting to take part in whatever conflict was brewing.

  “The riches…” Eron says, his voice laced with a threat, “are my family’s. I will take them and I will leave you your shrine. That is all I’m willing to discuss. If you wish to try and take them, you may do so. But know that I will stop you.”

  There is no doubt in his voice, nor should there be. The villagers do not understand what he can do, but I’ve seen it. I know that he can take them all easily. Destroy them— rip out their throats. Not even worry about their measly weapons.

  “Glast,” I take another step forward beside Eron. “Let it go. This isn’t worth it. We still have the shrine, we don’t need these metals. We’ll find another way.”

  “Find another way?” Glast snorts out. “Coming from you? You and your parents have found nothing to help us. The fields are still dying… You’ve found some animal that can apparently secrete acid, whatever the hell that means. And you expect us to just let resources walk away from our village. We need everything we have here! This is about survival! It isn’t about making your new boyfriend happy, girl!”

  I flush red, but I refuse to look down.

  “We’re still working at finding solutions,” I say. “Any conflict here will distract us from that, especially if there are wounded we must care for afterward. Is that what you want? Fewer mouths to feed? Is that what you’re hoping this will do? You’ve seen their technology, Glast. They came down in a shuttle. They probably have weapons we can’t even see right now that they can use to kill us.”

  I take another step forward. I’m nearly face-to-face with Glast right now. He’s taller than me, but I don’t let him look down at me.

  “Say it Glast. That’s what you’re hoping for, isn’t it?” There’s panic in his eyes. I’ve hit a soft spot. I intend to press it again and again until the villagers see who this man really is. “You want fewer mouths to feed, in case more crops fail. This isn’t about us not doing our jobs, because our parents and I are working hard to get it done— and you know that. This is about you hoping to start a conflict that you can’t win. Send everyone behind you in first, and hope for some deaths. Is this really what you’re doing?”

  He stutters, “No! Not at all! You’re just making up lies, girl! I mean, that’s our property, so we can’t just let anybody walk away with it!”

  Jordain doesn’t back him this time. He’s staring from me to Eron, to the bodies. He seems to be piecing it all together, slowly, granted, but still piecing it together. It’s more credit that I would have given him, that’s for sure. He puts his hand on Glast’s arm.

  “Maybe we should let it go for now,” he says, “try again later?”

  Glast is beet red by now. Several of the villagers are muttering. I’m not sure if it’s true that was Glast’s end game, but I’ve at least bought us some time to get the bodies out of here, and to stop a potential fight.

  The villagers disperse. Glast leaves mumbling and sending threats that are easy to ignore. Jordain stares at me a bit longer, as though he wants to say something but he too just leaves, saying nothing. And soon it’s just Eron, Starz and I, with the bodies of his parents. We have more important things to deal with right now. With life comes death, yes. But that doesn’t mean that we need to embrace death, or shy away from it, once it finds us.

  I find some blankets to wrap the bodies of his parents. He agreed to leave behind the escape pod, and so it will stay here and be closed again, once they’re out. First, we have to move them, carefully. Their bones are brittle by now, their skin like parchment paper.

  Th
ey look human. They show no sign of the wolf form that I’ve seen Eron take. I suppose that they were born human, too. There’s still so much I don’t know. So much I may never know.

  Starz and I help Eron move his parents. We start with his mother, gently lifting her body, frail and thin by now, dehydrated by time and death. We place her onto the blanket. We then take his father and place him on the blanket. He has a more regal stature. He was very tall— taller than Eron, even. As soon as we place him on the blanket, the arms of his parents seem to find each other again. They hadn’t let go of each other yet in death and seem intent on always holding each other.

  “They look like they loved each other very much,” I tell Eron. Eron looks at me with misted eyes.

  “They did,” his voice is rough. “We mate for life on my planet. So we’re very careful about who we select. My parents met during a blood moon. A good omen. The first time they saw each other, as my mother tells it, they fell in love. My father tells it that the first time they saw each other, he thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he intended to at least get one dance with her. But he got a lot more. Same thing, different words. That’s how they were, very similar, very different. Very loving.” He pauses and looks down at them, at the dried, withered husks. At all that remains.

  “I miss them,” he whispers.

  “We should get back to the shuttle,” Starz says. “Once we have them there, and we manage to contact the ship, we’ll be able to do this.”

  “This is still strange to me,” I say. “I don’t really understand what you’re about to do, but I know that I have to help you. I know that this world is so wrong.”

  I look down at the blankets again. At the fine dress that his mother wore. The beautiful jewelry. The hair still combed back, preserved in its style, even after so many centuries. At the father in a fine blue velvet coat, regal in appearance.

  “I would like to honor then,” I suddenly tell Eron. “I would like to honor your parents and show them the same respect that I would give to anyone in my family. They deserve that. Even though we didn’t know they were there, they’ve been with us from the beginning, and it’s important that we mark their passing. Would you let me do that for you and your family, Eron?”

 

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