Kalon

Chapter One-Hundred-Twenty-One: Ulima Dom Jukora - Part Two

Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

Solar System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Outside Naro City

I am adrift in the solace of my closed eyes, there is only darkness and I relish it. It is a tonic for what I feel on the edges of my mind, pushing and pulling at it, coming in waves. The madness of massacre is etched into my soul. The screams of life being taken that need not be is carved into my heart. 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, as I am somewhere between reality and the dream realm, my will running dry to hold myself in reality.

I feel the souls of thousands, crawling toward me, I feel each one's cries.

"Come, feast upon the torments of my soul."

In a vision I see the darkness slowly forming 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, and 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. In the vision, 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, even with her face obscured, I know it is Amara. She draws words in golden letters. The words she writes, I have seen them before. Words that once angered me. Even still, her presence calms me, it is soft like spring on a world that is not barren.

Ulima Dom Sekar… Alakin Dom Jukora

Forsaken by man… Chosen by the Gods

The presence from her is so familiar that it nips at my memories, yet I know that it cannot be her, my mother, she is long dead and gone beyond the veil.

Amara is not fully recovered from when I saw her last, I see the wounds upon her flesh are healing though. She stands beside me and waves her hand, and the darkness flows away showing the ice of my planet, barren and devoid of life. She raises a hand upwards and vegetation springs forth flowing across the lands, flowers in fields, trees blooming with fruit. I am swept before such beauty, tears flow from my eyes striking the ground. Flowers spring up from the tears. She places a hand on my shoulder, her warmth like the first rays of dawn, yet somehow it feels like sunset.

My mind wanders thinking of my tribe, thinking of Arrum and the others, 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, yet, Amara does not leave me to despair, she is the oasis, she grabs my hand beckoning, and I follow. She moves me through the people until I see what she 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. Amara begins to glow. Writing a single word to me, and then pointing in the distance, the light from her slowly disappearing as she fades from the vision.

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A gift… As I approach the pile of dead she pointed to, other bodies begin to fade, and I see him, a blade in his side. The darkness flows back before I can reach him.

I awaken from the dream, reality calling me more than the dream world. Air fills my lungs.

"Kalon," 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 while motioning his rifle toward 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, pulling my weak and withered frame toward where I saw him, "Arrum is dying."

"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 massive piles. I am almost there, where I saw him in the dream, death must ask me if it wishes to take him.

"Kalon we must leave!" Neeba pleads to me, not far behind. Soldiers are taking notice that we are moving in the 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!" the soldier 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 from my dream.

"Kalon he is not…" Neeba begins, but his words stop as I pull Arrum from the bodies.

Looking around I see many floating Bipki drones 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 point 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… you are not dead," I say.

"Kalon," Neeba says, there is sorrow and pity in his voice, I need neither. I accept neither. The dream brought me to him, and Amara said it was a gift.

More soldiers begin circling around.

"Stand down!" one yells, but another holds a hand up at him, telling him to back away.

I look to the heavens as I rip more syringes of medicine out and I say, "Give him back, it is not his time."

Clouds that hung peacefully hours before are now dark. Thunder booms after the lightning 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 soldiers move out of the way speaking amongst themselves in whispers.

"Neeba, help me lift him."

One of the soldiers puts up a hand and makes a motion for the others to load him up. The soldier that gave the orders pauses, looking at 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 the will to keep it."

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 grey-painted armor is 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?"

"Your father and your sister live."

His jaw clenches, words not finding their hold on his tongue. We arrive at the metal ramp of the shuttle and we are separated and cuffed to the walls, much like the Arasha did to me when Neeba's father sold me. The floor of the large ship is coated in coagulating and half-frozen blood, the smell of death lingers in the air like a heavy perfume. Looking around I see unfamiliar faces, caked in frost 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? Amara is not strong enough to stop something like this, she has given much already. Yet the rest… Leora, Hempki, Kuwathi, all of them, where are they now?

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 Amara, because she has given me Arrum back from the clutches of death.

It takes another hour and the transport is full. There is silence among the prisoners. We are stacked in columns now that the walls are full. Large beams that hang from the ceiling hold the chains that bind. Our destination is unknown. Our minds are 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 peace that Amara gave, trying to push down the faces in my mind, those who claw at the edges of my sanity.

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