George Atmell

I woke up some time after everything was over. Zarya was looming over me, checking on my condition. I groaned as I moved my body as I felt my head shaking. Man, that was the worst headache I've ever felt! It's like waking up from a wild party and suffering a bad hangover, times three.

"How are you feeling, George?" said Zarya. "You shouldn't move too much."

"W-what happened? I remembered an agonizing pain..."

"It's already over," she said. "You were attacked psychically. More than that and you might end up in a vegetative state?"

"Vegetative state?"

"You're awake, but not aware."

I did not want to suffer that fate. I remembered shuddering after hearing those simple explanations.

"A-Arcturus?" I asked after I noticed they were not around. "Sel?"

"Sel's eating in the mess hall. Arcturus's helping his father with repairs."

"His father? Wait, I am not mixing things up, right?"

"I'll let Arc explains it to you when he comes back. For now, don't exert yourself and tell me if anything's wrong, alright? Brain damage is a delicate thing."

I was rather curious about the events that happened while I was unconscious. Brain damage? Well, I guess I was rather fortunate to get out of it all. I slowly moved up, trying my best to shake off the headache by sitting in the corner of my bed.

That's when I saw the alien. I was told that he was a Nuoevan who was saved by Arcturus and was now under his custody. He looked rather monstrous with no resemblance to a human at all. Much like a Felinian, the Nuoevan looked more like a beast, especially if he had those long jackal-like ears and a face that looked like a kind of dog: rounded snout, oval head structure, and prominent underbite with...tusks? On top of that, he had an ebony skin and four black featureless eyes. He looked like he came out of someone's nightmare, especially with that lanky physique and long claws that were sharp enough to rend flesh. Still, even a nightmare creature would look kind of cute when they were sleeping.

Well, I did not really have anything much to do given that Zarya had specifically told me not to wander off. So, I just make myself comfortable as I ordered a tea from the nearby food replicator. Somehow, it tasted just like a milk tea, even if it was a synthetic one.

I also got myself comfortable by reading about the Nuoevan, as they were called. Their general appearance would make you think that he was either a result of a failed experiment or a beast that experienced rapid evolution. As I could not see the Nuoevan's full body and only read it from the encyclopedia, I also found out that they had a chimeric quality to their appearance. Aside from having long, sharp claws and a head that resembled a dog, they also had cloven hooves that resembled a goat and a prehensile tail that resembled an opossum. They were also photosensitive. Nuoevans were infamous for their twisted psychic ability that was enhanced by the suffering of others. The suffering was completely psychological, so struggling did not mean suffering. Only when one perceived their struggle to be a suffering when the Nuoevan could use it as their power source.

That was the reason why this Nuoevan, as I later learned, was made so he was helpless and subjected to a torture that mentally scarred him. I felt pity on him. Ashten Schelkz, my mentor during my time at the Academy, once told his class that dragon riders formed a close relationship with their dragon partner to the point that their death was traumatizing. One prime example, as he said, was the sad story of Harrison Widdicombe and his dragon Asheogar. Asheogar was killed during the battle, and Widdicombe was distraught to the point of despair. Asheogar grew up as Widdicombe did, and he regarded him as his brother. Asheogar's untimely death destroyed Widdicombe to the point he could not continue living...and he took his own life five years later.

I...could understand that feeling well, but I could not compare it to the rider's. I did not remember my biological parents well since they died during the same battle 20 years ago. I was still 3 years old back then, and I did not remember them that well. Their friends adopted me and told me the truth when I was accepted into the Academy, telling me that they were the best dragon riders out there. It encouraged me to try and follow on their footsteps, only to realize that life was unpredictable and I ended up a 'wyvern' rider (or Vyrnian, considering it's Arcturus), with a couple of events that led me into space. In short, I wanted something, and I got something far more than I could understand.

I kept reading about the Nuoevans until some hours later, he woke up. He seemed confused and looked around, but then tried to shield his eyes. Given that his race is photosensitive, the room was too bright for him.

"Hey," I said. "Do you want me to dim the light a bit?"

The Nuoevan listened to me, but he seemed hesitant to reply. I simply gave him what he needed and dimmed the room a bit, making it rather homey, to be honest. He slowly opened his eyes one at a time. It took me time to not feel uncomfortable when he did that, especially since he had four black eyes.

"T-thank you," he said. "B-but why?"

"Isn't that what everyone does if someone's in distress?" I asked.

"No one ever do that to me," he said. I could hear he started to cry. "I-I was just a lowly slave."

"Shhh...don't say that," I said as I walked towards him. "You're not a slave anymore. You're among friends."

"Y-you're too kind...cream-colored," he said.

"I'm a human," I said with a smile. "I'm George Atmell. What's your name?"

He hesitated, but then he said, "I...remembered my name was Kilkaja. Of Cwyd Arun."

"You remembered?" I said, confused.

"Once you become a slave, you lose your name. That is a privilege for free ones."

"And now you're free, Kilkaja of Cwyd Arun," I said with a smile. "Now come on, don't be shy. Wipe those tears off your eyes."

He did so. He seemed to be like a child, though he did say that he was around my age. It was hard to tell if he was smiling or not since his beastly face had nothing that resembled a human in it. I could understand an Orian since they were just blue-skinned bald men. Ironically, the only alien I could read was the one who almost sold me into slavery.

I helped Kilkaja recover by talking to him about stuff. When I wanted to talk about his life, however, he hesitated. I knew he was reluctant to say anything about, considering that his life as a slave was not a happy one (I mean, no one is truly happy under slavery. Even the dragons do not like being considered pets). Also, I suppose no one bothered to teach him anything, so his knowledge of everything was basically nil. Still, I found out that Nuoevans were quick to adapt. They learned things easily, especially under duress. Even so, in a calm setting, they also adapt well.

As he started to recover, he said, "I can feel that you're happy. I...never felt this before."

I didn't know what he meant. I only thought that he was surprised that I was so kind to him. I was rather glad to know that Kilkaja could be happy after being treated so poorly. Still, he seemed to try to let me know that it was not because he was happy after a long time. It was something else.

I only found out that he was referring to my emotions after Zarya walked in and he turned his head towards her. He turned to me and said, "She's...rather calm, isn't she?"

"Of course, she's calm. What do you mean?" I asked.

Zarya, of course, knew what Kilkaja was about. She moved to him and said, "Have you ever felt other's emotions before?"

"No, I haven't," he said while shaking his head. "Why? What's wrong?"

Zarya's expression changed, and I could see Kilkaja felt it. She turned to me and said, "That collar around his neck suppressed his powers, George. It suppressed more than his psychic powers."

"What do you mean, Zarya?"

"Nuoevans draw power from suffering, but they are also special because they are empaths. Sadly, that ability is poorly understood since they rely too much on their psychic impulses. I guess being empathic is not going to help their ruthlessness."

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I had heard about empaths before. Some people on Earth who were born with great magic powers usually manifested their magical capabilities not through spells, but through passive empathic sense that made them capable of sensing emotions. Many chose to exchange this ability to sense emotions for proper magic training, while others chose to bear the burden. Believe me when I said that a human found emotions overwhelming. Empathy could be a dangerous weapon, and only those ready and capable to bear it would be able to use it. The fact that a whole race decided to neglect that part of their race and use a twisted form of psychic ability was rather understandable.

"Do you think we should train him on how to use that empathic power?" I said.

"We could. However, as a Nuoevan, he is more naturally inclined in using his psychic abilities. Also, are you sure you are the right person to do this? I don't want to offend you, but you are pre-space."

"Even a pre-space knows about abuse, Zarya. Our world is not perfect, either."

"And I don't believe in total utopia, either. The Nuoevan's all yours, George, but let him rest for a bit."

"How about me?"

"Well, you can take a stroll, but don't overexert yourself. Your clothes are in the sanitizing bin beside the bed."

Walking around with a hospital gown would not be right, either, so I promptly changed. Zarya was talking to Kilkaja, asking for his name and was generally very kind to him. Kilkaja also seemed to know how to trust Zarya. I really hoped that, with everyone acting so kind to him, he would move on from his traumatic upbringing.

However, I knew that he would soon need to find a resolve to fight. We desperately needed that, especially after I learned about the development since I fell unconscious.

The first thing I noticed after I had put on my shirt and pants was my missing sword. I really cherished that sword, so that was the first thing I would do: find my sword. I hoped that the Nuoevans that took over the station did not take it with them. It would suck, and I had no chance to even properly using it yet, owing to my unconsciousness. I wasn't ready to part with it yet.

To my relief, I found my sword being propped up near a corridor to the mess hall. I simply lifted it and examined it. I quickly found that it had been recently used, given that the battery was empty, and I could see smears of black-colored blood. Well, only a small amount to them, but it was clear that someone was trying to clean it up.

"Oh, I was just going to return it to you, Atmell," said Sel's voice. "Thanks for borrowing it for me."

"I wasn't...oh."

"It's a situational thing. You know, we're lucky you did not decide to put a print lock on it."

I turned to Sel. She was just finishing up her steak, which was somehow coupled with what looked like wine. I walked towards her as I put my sword on my back, sitting on the chair in front of her.

"Want something to eat? You'll have to bear with the synthetic flavor. It may look and taste like steak, but it's not meat. It's even more apparent if you're a carnivore race like me."

"Yeah, I get that," I said.

"So, how's your head? Still feeling sick?"

"No, just that hangover feeling," I said. "How about you? I heard that you and Arcturus saved the day."

"Yeah, that's...still new to me. I have been traveling around with pirates, raiding and plundering like it was fun. I...never even think that I'd be praised by Vyrnians, let alone those who came from the past."

"Why is it weird?"

"I could've just hauled my ass and leave, right? Instead, I simply stick around and follow instructions. It's...new for me."

"And it's not going to be the first, Sel." I then smiled. "Consider this your path to redemption."

"I...suppose."

Sel needed that. She needed somewhere to belong, and I felt that this was her chance to get away from her piracy life and be someone who's helpful for a change. Her decision to stick around and help the Vyrnians could also come from the fact that she had respected Zarya enough to know that we were not the same with the pirate crew she was involved before.

I was feeling particularly hungry then, so I ordered a simple BLT sandwich from the replicator. To my surprise, it made a sandwich out of nothing. To be honest, I was more surprised that the replicator knew what a 'sandwich' was, more than that it materialized out of nowhere. I grew up in a planet of magic and dragons, so this was not uncommon. Still, I did not even think that aliens knew what a 'sandwich' was.

It tasted good, too. Well, the ingredients were not of Earth, but it tasted similar, anyway, except maybe a little mismatch like bacons tasting like chicken. But, for a sandwich, it was a good one.

I talked with Sel some more about her and also about myself when Arcturus came to the mess hall. He looked rather tired since he was helping with repairs and other things. Nevertheless, he was still in a good mood, for when he saw me eating my sandwich like there's no care in the world, he smiled.

"Already got your appetite back, huh?" he said as he sat with us. "How's the sandwich?"

"Taste good if you don't mind eating a chicken-flavored bacon sandwich," I said.

"Replicators can be quite tricky, especially if the system's old. Also, it might not even know anything from Earth."

I proceeded to ask about his dad, and what I missed. Arcturus proceeded to tell me the event that transpired while I was knocked unconscious. I listened with intent, knowing that I missed a whole lot of action. Arcturus also explained how he found Kilkaja, though he also criticized Sel's way in handling the situation.

"Yeah," she said with a slight regret in her tone. "Kind of the spur of the moment, you know?"

"I know," said Arcturus with a sigh. "I was hoping for a bloodless surrender if possible, but I suppose it's wistful thinking, huh?"

Well, I suppose Sel was rather apologetic, and took her time cleaning my sword, even if it was rather sloppy. Still, the first kill the sword tasted and it wasn't on my hand. Not that I wanted to find something to kill, of course, unless it was the only way out. I had tried my best not to kill the Orian slavers back then, but I knew that one day or another, things would not be so relatively bloodless.

I decided to return to Kilkaja and see how he's faring, leaving the rest of them to talk with themselves and enjoy their food. I met some Vyrnians along the way, who looked at me rather intently. After a couple of those eyes fixated on me, I became more and more accustomed to it. I knew that they looked at me like that because I was pre-space, not because I was wrong or anything. I wasn't even involved in liberating this base.

As I turned the corner to get to the medical ward, I heard a voice calling me. It was a deep, resonant voice that sounded almost like a wise dragon's voice.

"Ah. You're the soft-skin my son has been talking about," he said. "George Atmell, wasn't it?"

I turned to see a slightly larger Vyrnian (but still around 8 to 9 feet tall) with black scales and blue eyes walking towards me. He looked like Arcturus, but a bit older. His black scales looked faded and his wings were slightly damaged due to age. Old dragons tore their wings as they grew older since it was nothing more than a skin membrane, and I guess Vyrnians (and to and extend, wyverns) were no exception.

"A human, uh...sir," I said, unsure what to say to him to be polite.

"You can call me Andrates, Atmell," he said with a smile. "He told me everything about the circumstances on why he's here. I must thank you."

"Oh, I can't take the credit on my own. It was an archaeological team that helped me found the ship. I...just pressed a random button to get him out of cryo."

"I see. Well, nevertheless, his exile is not as peaceful as I wanted, but at the same time, I feel fortunate that we can still meet...despite of the misfortune that hit our civilization."

"I know Arcturus felt it when he saw his planet. I know I would."

He then invited me to take a walk through the database station.

"I owed him everything," said Andrates. "Arcturus's a kind child, even if he could be rather risky sometimes. Guess the old Vyrnian belief of twin-ring children do have merit, after all."

"Twin-ring?"

"His eye colors. You noticed, right?"

I remembered seeing Arcturus's eyes for the first time. Those unusual ring-like pattern of blue and green was really cool, which I thought was a unique Vyrnian physiology. It turned out to be exclusive to a handful of Vyrnians, including Arcturus.

"Yeah," I said.

"A twin-ring child is believed to know how to assess danger faster than anyone else. It is believed that the eye color pattern signified their increased awareness and sharpness, like a scope. Arcturus is like that, in addition to being kind and hard-working."

"Wow, I...never thought about that."

"Oh, yes. Vyrnians have its own share of mysticism embedded in our stories and beliefs. But then, Atmell, as I am concerned with his safety, so I am concerned with yours."

"Me?"

"You got yourself involved and almost got yourself killed. From the look of it, I know you can defend yourself well, but you don't know what's out there. It's not that I am underestimating you, but I am stating facts. There is no psychic on your planet, right?"

I silently nodded.

"I could just kindly ask you to return to Earth, but I know you'd object. So, you need a little assistance. We can help you with that, if you wish. Psychic protection is a very valuable trait that you might want to invest in, especially in light of recent discoveries."

"Recent...discoveries?"

"I did not have the time to tell Arcturus about the Eye on planet Vyrn, but I told him everything. The thing is, Arcturus fell through a time-space tear that transported him back in time. We have just finished scanning his body and I was right. His body's biological age is still 52, but the cryogenic residue in his body is more than 3500 years old. His condition is a breakthrough in cryogenic research and one of our scientists would want to study him, but I persuaded him to start with his cells first. Arcturus would not want to become a lab subject, right?"

"So, his place in the legend is plausible," I said. "But then, what's his real time period, then?"

"Unfortunately, his real time period was around 500 years ago, around the time of the Exodus. So, everything he knew was already in the past and behind Vyrn's planetary shield."

"I heard about the Eye from Arcturus," I said. "He said it's...gone?"

"Because we sealed it behind the shield, hence the Exodus," said Andrates. "The fanatics that caused the Exodus were the first victims of those who came from beyond the Eye. It is an ancient gateway for an unknown entity, one that threatened Vyrn and almost caused the end of our people. Vyrn was sacrificed so that they would not invade, but I fear it's already too late."

"Is it...really that dangerous?"

"Do you fear the dark, Atmell? It won't matter if you're a Felinian or a Nuoevan since they can see in the dark. However, if you do, then you're the same with us. You fear the unknown. You can't fight it if you don't know what it is. It may just be a tiny, harmless creature, or maybe it's a beast born out of nightmare. Even worse, they are so tiny that you can't even see them. A microscopic invader is scarier than a beast you can see, and we fear that the size of the Eye is to fool us into believing that we can see without without a microscope. You get what I mean?"

I understood what he meant and I shuddered. Imagination could be your friend, but it could be your enemy. Some people, and especially some dragons, used fear as a weapon. The Argoons of the Southern Main Region were capable of molding a fear into something terrifying, all with a simple use of black magic. The fact that it was invisible made it worse. You'd never know until you got it.

I never thought how things escalated since I got out from planet Earth. I found several alien races with unique histories and now, I found out that Arcturus was a time traveler, even if it was an accident. Believe me when I said that I could not imagine getting involved with aliens. All I wanted was to become a dragon rider, and I got something more exciting and more dangerous.

However, the danger would not be something to be feared if it did not come with tragedy. It followed us like a good company, and when it came...we were not ready.