I am adrift in the sea of dreams, there is only darkness and I relish it. It is a tonic for what I feel on the edges of my mind – pushing – pulling at it, coming in waves. The madness of massacre etched into my soul, the screams of life being taken that need not be. The weeping of love lost, love never found. Why does such cruelty exist… is this all that we are… can we not be more. I feel the edges closing in, my will running dry to hold them, come – feast upon the torments of my soul.
The darkness slowly forms shapes that rise from the muck, their screams piercing me, they ask me things in whispers, things that chill my aching bones. It is death that I see before me, everywhere I look more and more of it. Blood begins flowing from the piles of bodies made mountain. Faces before me of those I have slain, their hands gripping me tightly - beckoning me to follow them, I do not have the strength to stop them, nor the will. I am dragged deep into the abyss of suffering. Made to feel the cuts and stabs I inflicted upon them. Hope falls from me, despair rising in its place. The blood rises – nearly above my eyes when I see it.
Above me there is a light forming, the darkness retreating from it, I cannot look away even as it becomes radiant, it is resplendent. It fills the cracks that had formed in my breaking mind. A hand made from the light grasps my face, there is peace in its embrace, a serenity I have never known. A voice begins to speak, vibrating my entire being, I am laid bare before it. The words it says are familiar, I have heard them as whispers when I witnessed the light of the box.
Ulima dom Sekar - Alakin dom Jukora
The hand of light slowly becomes more, a being swathed in light. They stand beside me and wave their hand, the darkness flows away showing the deserts of my planet, barren and dry. It raises a hand upwards and vegetation springs forth flowing across the lands, flowers in fields, trees blooming with fruit. I fall to my knees before such beauty, tears flow from my eyes striking the ground. Flowers spring up from the tears. The being places a hand on my shoulder, its warmth like the first rays of dawn.
My mind wanders thinking of my tribe, thinking of their fate, I must find them. The vision begins to change, the flowers withering and the cruelty of reality appearing before me. There are so many dead, the being does not leave me to despair, it is the oasis, it grabs my hand beckoning, I follow. It moves me through the people until I see what it wishes to show.
I see Nekam and Nevari, alive still, they are being loaded onto a transport ship. I wish to linger and look for Arrum and the others among the dead, but the being points to my city holding out its hand like it is reaching for something. An object flies towards us rapidly distorting the air, it is the black box. The being holds the box and places a hand over it tenderly, I can feel a great sadness flowing through me as I see this, but I do not understand where it comes from. The being holds it towards me now. It does not force it upon me, it waits for me to choose to take it.
Reaching forward I grab it and look upon the black box, it begins to glow and my mind fills with images of destruction and chaos, fields of dead, stars erupting, solar systems wiped out. The echoes of sadness that crush my soul sprout forth, pain like I have never known erupts all over my body, radiating from the box. There is so much pain inside it. I cannot bear it in my hands, and it falls from them. The visions begin to fade now, the being picks up the black box turning from me, now facing the sea of dead upon the field.
Adar Ul Pakar
The being whispers to me, the light from them slowly disappearing, they point towards something in the distance and say one more thing.
Kota
Why would they say this word though, I look where they point and begin walking. Kota in the old tongue means simply – A gift. As I approach the pile of dead, other bodies begin to fade, and I see him, a blade in his side. The darkness flowing back before I can reach him.
***
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I awaken from the dream, reality calling me. Air filling my lungs. I feel someone shaking my body.
“Kale.” Neeba says.
My eyes open fully, adjusting to the light. Neeba is kneeling over me, his hands on my shoulders to wake me. There is a soldier standing over us with his rifle pointed at me, my heart stirs and I sit up remembering the dream.
“Are you able to stand?” the soldier asks.
Neeba grabs me, heaving me up, slinging my arm over his shoulder.
“Keep it moving.” He says motioning his rifle towards the large shuttles in the distance. He leaves us now searching among the dead to find the living.
“Let’s move.” Neeba says, but I pull him in another direction “No, we must go this way.” He says more adamantly.
“I must go to him.” I say “Arrum is alive still.”
“You will not find him - look around us.” Neeba says trying to pull me to the shuttles, but I feel strength rise in my bones and I break free.
They have begun stacking the bodies of the dead in a massive pile. I am almost there, where I saw him in the dream, death must ask me if it wishes to take him.
“Kale we must leave!” Neeba pleads to me, not far behind. Soldiers are taking notice we move the in wrong direction.
“He is here – somewhere here.” I say frantically moving bodies, Neeba grabs me trying to pull me off.
A soldier comes towards us now. I must hurry, I know he is here, he must be.
“There are none alive in that pile, move along!” he says loudly, I do not stop so he raises his weapon to my back “I will kill you.”
“I am not afraid to die.” I say, my words falling without thought. I pull another body down and I see it, the blade in my dreams.
“Kale he is not…” Neeba begins but his words stop as I pull from the bodies Arrum.
Looking around I see many Bipki close to me, they are watching intently what I do, the soldier is backing away now to give them space. One of them is a medical drone, I grab it and wrench it with me, pointing it at Arrum.
“Help him, he is alive.”
The drone scans, its light turning red. I feel Neeba’s hand on my shoulder now. I am not done, he is not dead. A gift should not mean death. Pulling my blade I stab it into the medical drone between the plates, the soldier steps forward but a Bipki moves in front of him. I tear off the panel and rip from it syringes, I do not know what they do. I begin stabbing them into Arrum.
“You are not dead yet, you are not dead.” I say.
“Kale.” Neeba says, there is sorrow and pity in his voice, I need neither. I accept neither. The dream brought me to him, the being said it was a gift.
More soldiers begin circling around.
“Stand down!” one yells but another holds a hand to him telling him to back away.
I look to the heavens as I rip more syringes of medicine out and I say to them “Give him back, it is not his time.”
Clouds that hung peacefully hours before, now dark, thunder booms after the lightening cracks. I stab the syringe in my hand into his chest. There is nothing for a few moments.
“Please Arrum, Adar Ulic Bekara.”
His body stirs, taking in a loud breath. Another medical drone moves towards us rapidly and scans him, a green light flickers. A stretcher comes and the soldier’s move out of the way speaking amongst themselves in whispers.
“Help me lift him Neeba.”
One of the soldiers puts up a hand to me and makes a motion for the others to load him up. The soldier that gave the orders pauses, looking to me. I cannot see their face, but I know they are the one that held the others back.
“What you said to him, what does it mean?” He asks me, his weapon lowered.
“While there is life, there is will to keep it.” I say.
The stretcher takes Arrum quickly to the shuttle as a mask goes over his face and multiple drones begin to work on him.
“Keep it moving.” He replies after a long pause.
The other soldiers point for us to board the shuttles and we begin walking. Their white and silver painted armor caked in the blood of my people. The wounds on my body ache and burn. A welcome feeling compared to being among the dead. As I turn back, I see the soldier giving orders for his men to search the pile of the dead once more.
“How did you know?” Neeba asks me as we approach the shuttle.
“I saw it, in a dream.”
He looks at me, puzzled by my words.
“Did you see anyone else in your dream?”
I look to him and say “Your father and your sister Nevari live.”
His jaw clenches, words not finding their hold of his mouth. We arrive to the metal ramp of the shuttle we are separated and cuffed to the walls, much like the carvers did to me. The floor of the large ship is coated in coagulating blood, the smell of death in the air. Looking around I see unfamiliar faces, caked in sand and the essence of life. Neeba stands shackled next to me, he is praying to his gods. What cruel gods would allow this to happen to their people. Looking around I see so many more praising their gods for sparing them. I do not pray to their gods, but I give thanks to whatever guided me to my sworn brother, I will not forget the debt lightly.
It takes a few more hours and the transport is full, it is silent among the prisoners. We are stacked in columns. Our destination unknown. Our minds frayed from the massacre. I barely feel the ship move as it takes off towards the future. I would try to sleep but I fear what the dreams will bring, so I imagine the warmth of the being, trying to push down the faces in my mind, those who claw at the edges of my sanity.