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MURAL TWO – THE VISION

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URS – SANGHELIOS

"After a day to recuperate from the thrashing given to me by Silket, though it would be more honest to say a day of nursing my ego, we set out for the interior desert of the Qivro continent. We had both packed light for the journey south toward its imposing mountain ranges. I had inquired if such resources would be sufficient for the trip, only to be told by Silket that nature would provide whatever we lacked.

All told, the journey was to take us nearly 30 Sanghelios days, and by the fifth, I had begun to experience sensations I hadn’t felt in years. Thirst was quenched by small sips from my portable canteen, yet I knew sooner or later my water would give out. Hunger pangs were a constant companion as vegetarian foodstuffs were not common on Sangheili tables. I was given some grain, but that had been exhausted after the second day. The oppressive heat of Sanghelio’s three suns was also quickly unbearable.

On the sixth night, we made camp around a fire to ward off the cold desert night, though I kept a distance to not agitate the burns forming across my body. Silket had managed to evade any form of sunburn on his face with a hat he had woven from native vegetation. I had tried making my own, but each attempt crumbled in my hands. The rest of his body remained fairly pristine, with perhaps something of a tan forming, but otherwise undamaged.

My water supply was just about gone; a small pool collecting at the very edge of the canteen was all that remained. One good swig and it would be finished. Silket, however, drank with gusto each day and yet never seemed to run dry. My stomach growled and twisted in knots as it struggled with the unfamiliar sensation of hunger. Our personal armor systems kept our bodies well-supplied with nourishment so that eating and drinking weren’t strictly necessary outside of desire. Silket busily roasted a desert gatt, a burrowing rodent, whose sickening stench of cooking flesh oppressed my nostrils.

Silket caught my gaze and simply said, “If you think I will share my catch with you, think again. This trip is eat what you kill or harvest alone.”

“Your barbaric people may eat the flesh of innocents, but we Forerunners do not,” I defiantly answered.

The Sangheili used a hunting knife to carve a piece from his meal and chewed for a moment. “Answer me. Every Manipular I’ve trained said much the same as you do yet none ever explained why.”

“To consume the flesh of lower beings is a gross violation of the Mantle. We Forerunners are to safeguard all life in the galaxy, not burn them on a fire and stuff them into our stomachs.”

Silket took another bite and shrugged. “Separating yourselves from nature seems ridiculously short-sighted. Predators hunt and kill prey. Prey eats what is below them. Why take yourself out of the cycle?”

“It is a higher calling, a calling where we elevate ourselves above such baser instincts. You Sangheili cling to the idea of honor, so maybe you can understand it that way.”

“And what good will that honor do you as you die from starvation?”

I did not have a ready answer for him. My wits had been dulled by my hunger, so I instead sought knowledge on how the blademaster had managed to remain fit through these hostile conditions. Silket outstretched his arms and bade me to look around myself. All I saw was sand, rocks, and desert flora. Seeing my confusion, he instructed me to rest as well as I could and pay careful attention to him in the morning. Admittedly, I had not done so during the last few days. Visions of myself as a great Promethean occupied my mind to distract myself from the monotonous desert terrain and accumulating distress from my body.

I got very little rest, but as the sun rose, I saw that Silket was preparing my first lesson. He did not explicitly ask for my attention, but he no doubt felt my eyes track him as he wandered our campsite. His directions seemed random at first, but I noticed he was stopping and tugging on various fleshy stalks protruding from the ground. Most of them came easily out of the ground only to be tossed aside by the blademaster. However, one bunch of stalks finally seemed to give him resistance. He used his hands to dig around the base of the plant and pulled up what seemed to be a large round sac. Silket used his knife to puncture the sac, and to my astonishment, water flowed out. He filled his canteen, then brought the remains of the plant with him to where I lay.

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“This,” Silket said, pointing at the plant, “is neesay-jeeneh, desert-soul. Notice the stalks.”

The blademaster demonstrated how the stalks actually opened to form a sort of funnel. When rain came to the desert, the desert-soul plant would open its funnels and collect rainwater that filtered down to the sac buried in the ground. This would often sustain the plant for the long stretches of drought that plagued the deserts of the Qiyro continent. An easily pulled stalk indicated no water reserves left while one that did not yield meant some yet remained. Soon after, I went about pulling what stalks I could find until finally finding one filled with nourishing water to refill my canteen. Silket patted my shoulder approvingly, and soon after, we continued onward.

With replenishing water a problem solved, I was left with my hunger and a need for protection. I often asked Silket if any particular desert vegetation was edible, though all he would tell me is to let nature be my teacher. Seeing no other alternative, I studied each plant we came across for signs of animal life, finding it edible. I knew this would not guarantee the plant would be good for me to eat, but it would be a start. Alas, I could not make any clear determinations. Silket, however, seemed to have no trouble catching small game that had the misfortune of crossing our path.

I did discover one breakthrough almost by chance that day that solved the other issue. As we marched over an imposing sand dune, I noticed a small hairless creature scurry in the distance. Silket caught me watching the creature and stopped, perhaps wondering if I had made some discovery. We crept as close as we could and saw the creature stop at a large five-pointed succulent. The creature raised a barbed tail, which I had not immediately noticed, and sliced a portion of the succulent that was clear of any spines. A thick ooze dripped from the wounded plant which the creature, now sitting atop its hind legs, smeared over itself.

Noticing us, the creature darted off, but my eyes were firmly on the succulent. I made a cut myself as the animal did and left the ooze pool in my hands before I spread it all over my body. The cooling sensation of the plant worked wonders in relieving me of the pain of my burns. Curiosity getting to me, I decided to taste the goo myself and found it sweet. I scooped out a few bites with my fingers and greedily ate what I could until I heard a chuckle come from behind me.

“The gelatinous juices of the geosayal are delicious, aren’t they, Manipular?” Silket said still finding my present condition amusing.

“What is so amusing?” I said between mouthfuls of juice.

“Only that while the juices make for a fine protectant against the three suns, you should never consume too much of the juices as they are a mild hallucinogen.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth did I begin to sense my perception of reality begin to change. Strange colors and shapes dotted the edges of my vision before, as Silket told me later, I passed out.

However, I remember flashes of the dream I had that were influenced by my inebriated state. I found myself floating in a black void of nothingness for a time until pinpricks of light appeared all around me like stars. The stars then raced towards me, blinding me in their intensity, until I found myself barreling towards an endless stretch of ocean. As I sank beneath the waves I found a curve blade in my hands and six glowing green eyes glaring at me in the dark depths below. I tried to swim away, but was caught by several large tentacles and dragged into the maw of whatever creature awaited below.

Thankfully, I awoke just as the monster was about to swallow me. It was night now, and Silket was attending to another meal at the fire.

“Ah, you live, that is good,” Silket nodded, “I’ve never seen a Manipular consume so much of the juices before, so I did not know if you’d make it.”

“You mean to say I’m not the only one who did that?” I asked in surprise.

Silket nodded. “I always take this route to ensure each Manipular under my tutelage has a vision. Many Sangheili hunters of this continent consume the juices to discover what their ultimate hunt will be. I assume you had a vision?”

I explained what I had seen, and Silket explained that what I saw was likely R'sikosh, a fierce cephalopod whose clutches claimed many a Sangheili sailing vessel daring to set sail across the sea. It would be my duty to help catch and kill one of these beasts, a fact that bode well for our ultimate destination towards the southern coast. My ruminations on this task were cut short by my stomach, eliciting a sigh from Silket.

“Manipular, take one of my captured game and eat,” Silket said with a surprising sense of concern in his voice.

By this point, my adherence to the Mantle was rapidly fading from the reality of my present condition. I snatched a gatt from his line of claimed prey, skinned it as I saw him do several nights ago, and stuck the rodent on a stick for roasting. Right before I bit into the gatt, I looked back at Silket and lowered my skewer.

“You said this was an eat-what-you-kill-or-harvest journey,” I reminded.

“After tonight, I expect you to work for your next meal now that you are willing to eat flesh,” Silket said crossing his arms, “But this one time I can show you some grace. Just remember to do the same when you encounter someone in your position down the road.”

My conscience effectively swayed for the moment, I tore into the gatt like a ravenous animal. While every fiber of my being told me I was wrong for eating the animal, I thanked the life of the creature whose blood was shed to save my own. I still chose to refrain from eating meat years later after my time on Sanghelios was done; it was still a custom important to many Forerunners, but I did learn something from it.

We Forerunners like to think we are beyond nature’s lessons. We guide the development of thousands of species. We reshape worlds to our liking. But strip us away from our technological crutches, and we are under nature’s judgment all the same. From the smallest gatt to the haughtiest Manipular, nature’s lessons are the ultimate instruction we ignore at our own peril."