The Reunion
It is raining hard. The constant onslaught of raindrops forms almost a melody, one that is haunting and mournful. The rain falls in an icy torrent, almost as if the heavens themselves are crying. However, even the flood outside cannot compete with the inundation in my heart, so large that it spills out onto my face, a raging river of tears containing the emotions that words alone cannot express. The wind rises to a wail. A death keen. How very appropriate it all seems. But no, I rush ahead. If the world is to ever know what happened, what truly happened, then I must start from the beginning�the very beginning. Oh, how long ago it seems�
It was the dead of winter. On reflection, an apt time for such deeds as those that were to come. The trees were barren, looking like skeletal claws waiting to drag your soul to the ethers. The wind, which in myth is always ascribed prophetic wisdom, moaned through these claws, a slow chant of warning to deaf ears, for it has been many millennia since ignorant mortal psyches could understand such wise words. The snow fell lightly, casting a coldness that could compare with only death. It is said that nature casts warnings, but so foolish was I that I saw no such omens. Even the sky seemed to speak of ill fate, always staying the same roiling pewter gray. Only now in retrospect do I realize that the waters, even iced over, bubbled and frothed with demonic possession as I passed, that birds grew silent as the crypt and that the ground was a horrible seething mass of decaying creatures. Also, the Earth seemed to shudder under my feet, but if was everyone who felt it of just me, there was no indication. I, in my foolish na�vet�, did not notice, did not take heed of these warnings most dreadful. My demeanor was light and happy, so different from the pessimistic view on life that I have now. Events had been in my favor, but the Fates decided that no life should be entirely pleasant. In the dark, twisting tapestry that was and still is my life, things were about to change, and not for the better�
It all started at the winter dance. I had been, to my delight, �asked out�, so I was there, watching my date slow-dance with the school hussy. That was the first indication of the bad night to come. Aside from the disheartening fact that I was a wallflower, everything was going well until the shot was fired. I never found out who fired that fateful shot, but it has been my dearest hope that they be dammed to the eternal fires of Hell. Screams erupted and sparks flew. A spark landed on my dress. I was unafraid, for I had a gift with fire, as well as other elements of nature. I picked the tiny spark up in my hand, where upon contact with my skin it burst into a ball of flame. Yelping, I backed up, in my terror not realizing that I had dropped the fireball to the ground, or that my skin was not even burnt. The gym, highly flammable building that it was, burst into flame, and the fire seemed to gain a mind of its own. Little did I know back then, when my powers were still in their infancy, that I could control the fire, that I could have stopped that life-eating blaze. It is a thought that will haunt me forever. I heard the screams louder then, but these screams often stopped abruptly�too much so. There was no way out; the metal doors had fused shut. The air filled with the smell of roasting flesh. In my horror, I failed to realize that the flames did not get near me, that I alone was safe. I swiftly climbed up into a vent and crawled towards the valve that shut off my section from the others. Once safe from the smoke, I broke down, my already fragile state disintegrating into nothing. I wrapped my arms around my knees and huddled there, crying miserably.
I must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew I was being dragged out of the vent, feet first. I screamed and whipped around, my powers stretching the vent to allow me to do so. My ankle was in unbearable pain, and I saw everything through a red haze. I looked up to face my assailant, and instead saw the worried face of a firefighter. A strange emotion flooded through me�half relief and half dread. Why there was dread, I did not know; perhaps it was some primal instinct from the core of my being. The firefighter smiled gently and coaxed me out, but I could tell from the little lines around his eyes that things were not as calm as he would have them seem. I crawled out of the vent, my once-grand dress in tatters. I exited the vent and gazed upon a scene that is forever imprinted upon my memory. It was the stuff of nightmares. The fire had died down, but corpses were being extracted from the burnt and scarred edifice that was once the school gym. The bodies, if you could call them such, didn�t even look human. The skin had been burnt to a crisp, leaving the overall impression that the firefighters were carrying bits of briquette out of the gym on platters. I closed my eyes in horror. My knees buckled and the world spun, and a firefighter gently caught me. Tears rolled down my face and splashed onto the floor. All those people�all of them, dead. I couldn�t believe it. How could this happen? Was it my fault? Some obscure part of brain claimed that it was so. Was I the only survivor? With that last mental question, a flicker of hope ignited within my psyche. Surely someone had survived�someone other than me. After all, I wows hardly the most likely candidate when it came to survival. Wearily in more than body, I asked the firefighter if anyone but me has survived the inferno. The answer broke my heart. Every single person in the entire school had dies, consumed by the blaze. The fire had killed every firefighter who had tried to put it out, until it spasmodically ceased of its own accord. He told me that I was to be held for questioning, nothing major I must understand, but they needed to see if there was any possibility of arson. I numbly agreed, too tired to argue. I did ask though, if I could possibly see my parents. The firefighter looks at me with an expression of pity and told me the news that shattered my life. My parents, on their way to pick me, had been incinerated. My mind whirled. The ground seemed to slide out from under me, and my knees buckled once again. The world was awash in black, and my grief and exhaustion drove me to unconsciousness. Little did I know or care to realize that the worst was yet to come�
I cried myself to sleep that night, not caring who heard the depths of my misery as long as I could get all of the horrible hurt out. After I had come around, I had been questioned gently but intensely. I told the authorities everything that my muddled brain could remember, dredging out details that until then I had forgotten. They let me go afterwards, and I stumbled out of the office with their murmurs fading to a buzz behind me. Of where I was to sleep and how I was to live, there was no discussion. I walked back to my house, a place that had once been a safe have but was now only a reminder of everything I had lost. I saw the picket sign on the freshly mown lawn. It bore the large red word SOLD. I didn�t even have my memories to sleep with tonight. I stole inside light a patch of night itself and gathered what few belongings I had. My parents weren�t rich, but it had been a good life, if frugal. I packed my things in the back of my dad�s car, and taking the spare keys off the peg in the kitchen I drove off. I had no idea where I was going, and I didn�t particularly care. Many times during that lonely drive my eyes fogged with tears and I struggled to keep them in check, knowing that killing myself in an accident would do no one any good. I drove all night, and only when the first rosy tendrils of morning touched the horizon did I stop the car and clamber out. I had stopped the car in a small meadow, having driven off road some ways down. The meadow was picturesque, with a small cave leading underground and a little creek a few meters away from the cave entrance. My hearts was as heavy as lead, but I knew what I must do. I drove the car a few miles more, going by the road this time, to where there was a cliff overlooking the sea. I parked on the gravel-covered outlook and pulled my things out of the trunk. I cast a final look at the car�my last tie to both humanity and my parents, now dead. I blinked away a few tears, but they were merely a token effort on the part of my emotions. With a mighty heave that seemed impossible in comparison to my light build, I pushed the car off the cliff. In my soul-wrenching grief I inadvertently called upon the wind to help me with my burden, I stared at the car hungrily as it sped down the cliff face and exploded into a fiery plume of smoke and metal upon the rocks below. I was well aware that the coast guard would see the fire, but still I lingered for a moment, collecting my scattered thoughts. With a heavy heart I gathered my belongings and hurried away from the false accident, making sure that in my haste I did not leave tracks. I set off resolutely in the direction of the cave and the meadow, in the direction of my new life and my new home.
It had been four months.
I observed the authorities who headed the investigation of the accident carefully. They had no idea that I was still alive, and I found that I preferred it that way. Humans were too noisy, with their vast machines of war and their daily rat race to reach an end no more glorious than that of any other beast. However, I found myself oddly touched when the city held a funeral for me. There were no remains obviously, but still, it showed that they cared about one of their own. No matter, I was hardly one of their own now.
I have grown accustomed to my solitude, my utter isolation from the world of man. It seemed that, in the absence of human companionship, my bond with beasts of the world grew stronger. We had an understanding, the creatures of the forest and I. I would take only so much as I needed to live, no more, and they in turn would leave me be for the most part. If they did anything towards me, it would be helpful. It was a good life, but sometimes I found myself growing lonely. The loneliness would eat at me like a cancer if I allowed it, but then the beasts seemed to realize that as well as I. They would comfort me. The wolves would keep me warm at night during the frigid cold of winter; the bears would help me find the best berries during the warmer spring and summer months when they came out of their long sleep. At first it seemed like one of the old tales�a girl lost in the wilderness who learned to converse with the animals. Yet my life was far from fantasy or myth, and often filled with danger. Unwary hunters sometimes strayed into my domain. Well, if they chose to chase me as their prey, they never strayed out of it.
The anniversary of my fourth month of solitude dawned cold and menacing. As soon as I rose form my den, a coldness struck my, a coldness not totally associated with the chill in the air outside. As I watched the sun rise, a crimson disk in the east, I knew that this day would be terrible. Quickly, following the gnawing fear in my stomach, I coaxed all the animals to go underground, somehow knowing that the dark bowels of the earth would provide a safe harbor where nothing else would. Some protested, especially the more simple-minded ones, but they could sense the fear exuding from my person. They knew that I was deadly serious, and that my advice should be heeded. I called across the world, my strength knowing no bounds, my mind reaching every beast on the land, sea, and air. Once I sensed that they were all safe, I relaxed. My task, for now, was done, and none too soon. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and a primordial fear engulfed. Instinctively, I looked up at the sun. This early in the morning it should still be close to the eastern horizon, but there was no such luck. Something enormous was cutting off the light, a black shadow spreading across the face of the sun like an oil spill on the sea. I had the strangest sensation that while everyone on Earth could see the blotting out of the sun, only I could see what was causing it. An enormous metal monstrosity, a behemoth that seemed to come out of a science fiction novel. I studied the behemoth carefully, not fearing any potential damage from the now wholly eclipsed sun. I looked straight up, observing what seemed to be a hatch. Cold fear gripped my bowels, and a bright, blinding light engulfed me. I felt myself lift off the ground at an incredible speed. The world blurred before my eyes, and I lost consciousness.
I awoke on a metal table, the cold surface biting into my skin. Panic flooded my body, and I struggled to keep my emotions, always rather volatile, in check. The panic subsided, but fear, cold, gut-wrenching fear, soon took its place. I rose slowly, making sure that I was alright. I rotated my body so that my legs hung off the edge of the table, and then carefully dropped down. A chill spread up through my feet to the rest of me. I checked my person and immediate surrounding, but my daggers were gone. I cursed silently under my breath, the air rising in a mist before my lips. I spotted a doorway and made my way through it, into what were, in my mind, most undoubtedly the bowels of the sun-eclipsing ship. The metal surrounding tore at my heart and made feel sick, for I had grown accustomed to the gentle greenery of the forest glen and area. I walked for a while, no specific objective in kind but just feeling the overwhelming need to be doing something. I studied the walls carefully, noticing that what I had at first though to be random markings were actually part of an alien script. Finally, I came upon a door with a keypad next to it. I felt cold despair creep upon me. How was I to escape the metal prison, if the only way out was safeguarded by an alien code. I took a deep breath and trusted to my instincts and luck. I had assimilated most of the language on the walls, but there had been no numbers. I pressed the keys tentatively, feeling a cold revulsion sneak over me at the touch of the metal. The door opened with a hydraulic-sounding hiss, and with little hesitation I stepped inside the room. It was as black as pitch inside. I stepped a little farther in and a few panel lighted, softly bathing the room in a blue glow. I glanced around the room, peering myopically into the shadowed corners. I heard a faint whooshing sound, like the sound of feathers being blown in the wind. I turned to find the source of the noise and gasped. My stomach lurched and I resisted the urge to run out of the room. There, standing in the corner, was the stuff of nightmares. It had seven arms, more like tentacles than anything else, which waved like those of an ammonite. They were smooth and a faintly green color, and seemed to be testing the air. Its face had a multitude of eyes, the exact number of which I could not say, for they opened and shut so rapidly that they looked like that many fireflies. Its six legs were jointed in the opposite direction of a human�s, in the same way as a bird�s. They ended in a reptilian foot with three toes, each toe ending in a wicked scythe. They projected from the sides of the creature, giving it an almost spider-like appearance. Its mouth was centered in its broad face, and as I stared it bared its teeth in a crooked grin. It began to emit a horrible choking sound, like a wolf gagging on too much meat. It took me a few seconds, but then I realized that it was laughing. Some of my fear ebbed away; after all, if it was going to eat me, it wouldn�t have wasted time laughing. As I stared, perplexed, it opened its mouth once again and began to speak. Its speech was odd, the first letter of each word dragged out into a minute-long sound, but the creature was intelligible nonetheless.
�You humans are so strange. Yet you are the strangest of them all. Most humans I have encountered die of fright when they see me; if they make it at all. Ninety percent of abductees never survive the transport.�
The creature suddenly pressed a button and a light shone in my eyes. I blinked furiously, spots playing across my vision, but as soon as I had adjusted, the light went out. The creature let out a great rumbling sound and began to speak again.
�It is as I thought. Before you were born, your parents were abducted by one of our kind. Yes, I said our kind, for a Tarquelian cannot reproduce without a third party, called a Cogenitor. We converted your parents and planted our seed in your so-called mother. In reality, you are one of us. Why do you suppose you can control the elements? And read our language? Well?�
I looked at the creature. His slow form of speech infuriated me. I could tell that he�for it was definitely a he�was speaking the human tongue on purpose. His words, so simple to understand, had shattered my universe. I couldn�t be an alien. I was a true-blue human, straight from good old Gaia herself. It was impossible. Or was it? Then an even worse thought occurred to me. He�the Tarquelian�had said that I could control the elements. Elements such as fire. Could I have stopped the blaze that had consumed my life? Could I have salvaged my existence? I felt a chill crawl up my spine. If I had know back when the fire happened, would I have stopped it? My life, for the most part, had been better since the fire, even though the blood of thousands inundated my hands. I looked up and was surprised to see the alien staring back at me.
�Very well, if I am also a Tarquelian, then why don�t I look like you? And don�t give me any crap that I do, I�d know for sure if I did.� It merely smiled.
�We Tarquelians are shape-shifters, and highly adaptive ones at that. We automatically take the form of those we were raised by. Your �parents� were lost by our sensors before we could retrieve you from the Cogenitor. Because of that, you were raised as a human, by humans. And you were never informed of our existence.
I looked at the creature, my heart heavy with sadness. �I understand, and I-I believe you. But w-why have you brought me here?"
�You were taken because you are to be spared. We intend to do as we have done before, as we have always done. We are here to purge the human race.�
I stared incredulously at the Tarquelian as he explained his position. On the inside, I was in turmoil. Destroy the human race? How dare he? What authority did he have, did all the Tarquelians have, to make such a decision? And why? Underneath the anger, panic, and disbelief was another worry. Why was I not more upset? The nasty, logical part of my brain told me the truth. I had always hated humankind, always had preferred the wilderness and animals to noisy cities and people. My thought didn�t make me a monster, they made me a realist. I abruptly realized that I was rationalizing my thoughts. I was horrible! I was unceremoniously jerked out of my reverie by something the Tarquelian said.
�S-sorry,� I stammered, �What did you say?�
The Tarquelian looked briefly annoyed. �I said that although we will purge humankind, we will not destroy it, merely reshape it. We hope to get it right this time. However, we fear that this will not be our last visit to earth. We want you to remain on Earth after the Purging. With your inherent powers, you will be able to keep the humans relatively behaved. You will not govern them, but you will subtly guide them, playing the part of a powerful sorceress. The Conclave has decided to mold the world into one filled with magic. We will not, however, do anything without your Emissary�s approval.� The Tarquelian bowed low.
I felt like the weight of the Earth was on my shoulders, pressing my down into oblivion. It was up to me, the earth�s Emissary, to decide the fate of billions. My mouth formed the words I dreaded to say.
�Do it.�
The Tarquelian turned to the console behind him and pressed a button. A white light shot down to the surface, and it began to blanket the globe. Immediately, the cries of billions of dying humans filled my head. Agony filled every fiber of my body, and I cried out in pain. I fell to my knees and curled into a fetal position, clutching my head. The white fog began to recede, and I blissfully lost consciousness.
I awoke to the sensation of being carried by seven arms. Somewhere above my head, I heard the Tarquelian speak.
�Forgive us. We did not realize you had such a strong connection to this planet.� He set me down on the grass. After a few tries I clambered to my feet.
�Thank you. Listen, I will stay, but please tell me your name so I can contact you.�
He chuckled. �My name is Sssacaresh. If you should ever need to contact Tarquelia, call out my name in your mind. You are a very strong telepath�I have no doubt you will be able to reach me.� Sssacaresh smiled. �Farewell, Emissary�
�Farewell, Sssacaresh�
I watched as Sssacaresh boarded his ship. With a final wave he retracted the gangplank, and the ship took off for Tarquelia. As I watched the ship ascend into the heavens, I didn�t bother to hold back my tears. Finally all that was left was a bright spot in the sky, and then even that faded away. Still staring hungrily at the sky, I made my way into the forest.
It has been 200 years.
Ever since the Purge, I have never taken another human life. The people of this new Earth know me as the Lady of the Forest, named after the forests in which I dwell. Although I took a vow of pacifism, I still punish those who have done wrong according to the laws of the land. I live alone, for I have never married. I doubt any person on this earth would wish to, if they found out what I really was. I dwell in the heart of the forest, and it is often said that catching a glimpse of the Lady will bless your family for generations to come. They are foolish, these mortals, for I only bless the truly worthy. I look to the heavens, and gray clouds roll in. Today is the 200th anniversary of the Purge, and the heavens must mourn as I do for the lives that I destroyed. I knew my choice then, and I still know it now. But that will never stop my heart from grieving. I wish to leave; I wish to see my true homeland, the land of my blood. But I can never leave. I shall always be condemned to watch over this world I have destroyed, to be its protector for eternity. I mourn the destruction of my home, and the people of this Earth say one thing over and over until the words become burned into my memory.
�She mourns, she mourns��
