Written for the December 2017 Gift Exchange for DesertVixen requesting a story about Coran.
Enjoy!
Secret Thoughts
5 February
A son! Hasal gave birth today to a son. Hasal chose the name Garrett for the child, after her father's best friend. Both of them sleep, Garrett in my arms. I can hardly believe how my heart has grown just holding him. Now I understand what all parents say. You cannot begin to understand how a parent feels until you hold a child in your arms.
The mid-wife let me know that we cannot spoil the child by holding him too much, and that after being part of his mother for two and more seasons, the child will look for comfort and for a heart beat. He has lived in a very noisy environment, and will sleep better with the comfort of both nearness and sound. Indeed, he has squirmed and scrunched until his head lies directly over my heart, and I hope that he can hear the love I hold for him in every beat.
That sounds as maudlin as I have heard from every new parent for the last decade. It makes me laugh at my own folly. Here I swore to never succumb as my peers did to the birth of my child. Yet, not only have I succumbed, but happily and with eyes wide open. How I love this child!
10 March
Today we celebrated Garrett's naming. The elders formally accepted him into the community, and the necklace I have spent the last several weeks creating received the blessings of She and He Above and the good will of the community. The necklace will remain with Garrett through is childhood, growing with him as ordained by She and He Above.
Garrett will have much company as he grows as this season we have seen over a dozen children born in our neighborhood alone. It took much convincing to Alfor to let me take a dwelling in the city. He would rather I lived in the palace, close and on-hand, but my beloved had the right idea. Alfor will appreciate me more if I do not live at the palace.
We hope that our children will become great friends. Adina, like my beloved, grows restive as her time grows close. She can no longer take the long gallops through the woods on her horses. If this child grows anything like Adina, she will live for the times she spends on a horse, cantering through the woods, and riding wildly through the landscapes daring to jump higher and further. My own beloved prefers a more sedate walk, although she loves the speed of our air car. Already Garrett giggles and laughs when his mother takes him to the track to race around with the air blowing through his hair. Their laughter warms my heart, even as it wrenches each morning I leave for the castle.
The neighborhood has welcomed us beyond all expectations. We have more than enough clothes for Garrett for the next year! He even received a giant white lion from Adina. It is not known who will pilot the lions in this generation. In my heart of hearts, I would love nothing more than for him to join me in the fight to keep our people free, but will rejoice in whatever he chooses to do.
My beloved calls. Bath time!
27 September
They are gone. The city lies in ruins. My people are scattered. The attack came without warning, our satellites failed us. The technology we put stock in failed us. The paladins are slaughtered. My king. Oh my king and my queen. Fell so quickly. The castle in ruins.
The young princess sits so quiet. Already we learn to creep about like mice in the night. The patrols seek any remnants of the population to slay or capture. We are only a few thousand in the caves, out of a city of over a million. So few children escaped. So few of our elderly. So few.
My wife. My son. Captured? Killed? He had only six years. Just started to read and understand numbers. He loved to paint. To draw. To create with his hands. Not always did we understand what he created, but it gave him such joy. My hopes for more children, gone.
My people. My planet. We do not know how many survived. Over 2 billion people on the planet, and if what happened here shows a pattern, less than one percent have survived. Nearly 2 billion people slaughtered like a pest or captured for their value as workers. It makes no sense. Machines can do the work so much more efficiently that people. Why take people? You have to feed slaves. Devote man power to ensuring they work and do not escape. Machines just do what you ask. 24 hours a day. No person can match the power of machines. It makes no sense.
I do not know what to do with the people here. They look to me for leadership. For answers. I do not have any. What can I tell them when I do not understand myself. They need me to give them hope, but how can I do that when I have none to give.
Allura just sits and stares at me. She has always acted older than her age in many ways. She has become an orphan. Her siblings killed with their mother. How will I tell her the sacrifice her mother made to keep her safe? How can I explain there was not enough time to hide all the children. Only Allura of the three children. The even killed Bellana in her cradle. A child of only a few weeks. What will I tell her about her people? About her parents?
They are coming, I can hear them. What will we eat? How will we hide? What do we do?
Goddess and God Above, give me some answers to give to my people. What will we do?
13 April
Supplies have grown dangerously low. Although we have supplemented with what grows in the caves, even with the planet's help, it does not grow quickly enough to support our population. Already we have lost too many to poor nutrition and wounds sustained in the attack. Allura stays dry-eyed in the face of everything. She has seen too much. All the children have seen too much in too short a time.
The worst are the tiny graves. Without simple medical supplies, the tiniest of us cannot survive. I managed to take one of the library tablets, but finding the oldest histories and understanding what they say is difficult. It talks about earliest types of medicines, but names have changes in the millennia, and some of the plants no longer exist, or in a changed form. Evolution and the influence of people change flora and fauna into new and unrecognizable forms.
Even some of the foods our ancestors ate, have changed into unrecognizable forms. We have tried experimenting with the different plants. Some have worked, and some have caused much sickness in the person who tried it. We have started cataloging the plants and their appearance and taste to compare them to the histories. Too late for many, we have found plants with antiseptic properties.
How could this happen, people will wonder. How can you not know the properties of the plants? I will say to those people, can you tell me the difference between Yellow Root and Golden Root? One to heal and one that harms? We have no botanist among our group of survivors, and no way of contacting any other groups. Any transmissions will be detected and both groups wiped out. This has already happened. Only by passing messages via travelers between groups. Only Goddess Above knows how many have been captured and executed by the Drules. I am sure someone has the knowledge, but other than the basics many years ago in school, I have no knowledge of which of the wild plants can we safely consume and which will harm us.
Grow mushrooms, people will say. We do. But again, we know some of the varieties will harm or cause hallucinations. We have found three varieties that we can eat, but even mushrooms need some light to grow, and the Drule patrols have increased in frequency and duration. They move slower through the area, spending more time looking. I think they suspect our presence and seek to end any of our people as they can.
Allura stands in my doorway, looking for my attention. She has become so quiet. Her cheekbones protrude, and I am sure I could count each of her ribs, should I have opportunity to see. I can count my own. We will persevere as we can.
June 6
The days begin to blur together. Although we try to keep some semblance of civilization, the longer we remain hidden, the more we return to a sustenance existence. Searching for food, hiding from patrols. Sneaking around trying to gather what meager possessions remain after the orbital bombings. Clothing wears, blankets grow thin. Soap and bathing are luxurious we can hardly afford. One of the women managed to set up one of the looms. By combing through the remaining libraries available to us, we set up a larger solar grid, and a receiving station to power some basic necessities. Since we have only a few scavenged panels, we must prioritize for cooking because it allows us to leave the fires cold, and have no betraying smoke for the patrols, and the loom. Now all that is left is to figure out how to make the thread or yard needed to create the cloth for clothing.
How much we have lost in knowledge because of our technologies! So few of our artisans and farmers survived. So few survived. . .
But those that did bring welcome skills. Like many other planets, we had those who chose to learn the skills as our ancestors did, and those that survived brought those skills. We have yeast for bread, because some brewers survived. We have bread because some of those who know how to make flour survive. Our cave complex reminds me of those etchings I saw from thousands of years ago. At least our people have more to eat now. The hollows that stared back at me from every face have started to fill in. The Drules patrols have become perfunctory as they find fewer and fewer people or resources. In the game of attrition, they have won.
In the survival game, we have won.
23 March
We have not seen a Drule patrol for over a year. A group of us has determined to try and explore the castle again. We know that our scientists had started to develop a massive underground complex to house our people in case of a Drule attack, but did not have time to finish before they arrived. We hope to find something intact that will help us to continue to rebuild, but more than that we hope to be able to start rebuilding. It will take decades, or perhaps lifetimes to restore Arus to the bucolic planet of it's past, but if we can find intact technology, that will make the task so much easier.
Without an industrial complex to support the recovery, it will not happen. But enough of my musings.
Allura continues to grow into a beautiful young woman. Some months back, we managed to learn that Marta, Allura's Nanny survived the purges. When the Drule's launched their final campaign to decimate the planet, she had escaped with much of the staff at the castle to a cave complex in the opposite direction that I fled with Allura. My young charge felt overjoyed at the news, but saddened that her beloved Nanny could not join us. Nanny, of course, had a list of instructions for me in regards to the education and refinement of our Princess. It gave me the best laugh I enjoyed in years. How Nanny expects me to take our wild child, and turn her into a paragon escapes me.
Most days, Allura spends only a short time in "school." We have tried our best to educate our few young that remain, but always survival comes first. In the afternoons, Allura either works the mushroom farms, joins a scavenger team, or takes her turn in minding the littles in the Creche. As expected, our population of the next generation has grown as our people seek comfort in each other.
Our society has changed. No longer does the traditional model of family apply. We have returned to a collective family, which both saddens and delights me. Although people still engage in petty bickering, a new sense of cohesion has developed.
Allura, of course, learns her leadership from this example, and I can only think how this will change our world as we begin to emerge.
Ah, night has fallen. It is time for me to journey to the castle.
30 March
We never made it to the castle. One of our scouts tripped a beacon. A Drule patrol emerged from the castle within a few minutes.
His name was Micah. He had lived 32 years. Before the now time, he worked with pottery, creating the most beautiful artwork. He taught us to make plates, bowls, and cups so we could have some of the trappings of civilization.
He sacrificed himself to prevent the Drule's from discovering the rest of our patrol. With a smile and a determined look in his eye, he quickly removed his scout gear, to reveal the ragged clothes all the scouts wore in case of detection. Running dirt through his hair and over his body, he emerged from his hiding place, shrieking like a mad-man or someone who had survived rough for years. Babbling incoherently, he approached the patrol spouting gibberish.
Casually, one of the members of the patrol raised a rifle and put a shot through his head. The patrol then laughed as the momentum caused him to tumble over and down a small incline, to land broken at the base of their vehicle.
The patrol casually shined a light around the area, and then left, leaving Micah's body where it lay.
So did we. If we removed it, the Drule's would notice. We found out the hard way, that they would leave bodies deliberately and then wait to see if anyone came to claim it. They would then either kill the friends or track them to a camp take the fit for slaves and slaughter the rest.
We waited for hours, watching as the scavengers started to arrive. As the scavengers arrived, a small vehicle with only one being in it, rose into the sky and headed back the way it had arrived.
27 June
It has been ten years since the final Drule attack. Allura turned 18 earlier this month. My Garrett would have been 16. Bellana 10. There have been no reports of the Drules anywhere for months. Even the camp on the far side of the castle lies abandoned. None of the runner networks have reported anyone missing or killed by the enemy for months. Can Zarkon have finally given up? Can the witch have turned his eyes to a new target? We can only pray to the Goddess and God above.
A group penetrated to the very castle with no interference, no sign of detection. No traps, no signals. Nothing.
We sent a second, larger group, to the same effect. Finally, we may begin rebuilding. Perhaps even begin to look to the future. Perhaps resurrect our defenses and our Great Defender. Soon I will take Allura; after I prepare her for what she will see.
I have sent people to ensure that any remains in the castle properly buried before taking the youngest of our people. And our future Queen. Even after all these years and the hardships we endure. The deaths, destruction, famine. Allura maintains hope and a sense of innocence about her. This generation of children know only the hardships of life, and few have memories of the ease of technology.
The patrol returns. All is in readiness for the return trip.
30 June
We have started digging through the rubble of the castle in an attempt to uncover some of the secrets, and to look for the launching chambers. Allura found a storage area filled with trunks of clothing. The children had a fabulous afternoon pouring through the old-fashioned dresses and formal wear. In fact, everyone found clothing to wear. Myself, I found a caramel colored suit, complete with tails and a cane. Not that I need the cane, but I do think it looks dashing. We made a day of celebration, as well as we could manage. Allura found a ballgown of pink and white. She looks like a debutant of old in the dress. With her hair clean, and flowing down her back, she nearly glows with an inner beauty. It is good to hear the children laugh and giggle. And if they laugh and giggle quietly, at least it is with joy.
3 July
We hid as a badly damaged Drule ship crash landed a day's walk from the castle. Several minutes later a second Drule ship, spent several minutes firing at the crash site until only a thick, black smoke remained of the transport ship. The ship spent hours patrolling the area, obviously looking for any survivors, but no one could have survived not only the crash, but the blistering attack. We hold our breaths as we wait to see if the Drule's will leave again.
4 July
Strangers approach the castle. The people have scattered and prepared an ambush. Only I stay in the entry of the castle, a guide and bait to see what will happen.
Then the most amazing thing happened, a humming began as the strangers started across the bridge. It grew louder as they passed under the lion monument, and all heard a triumphant roar, echoing through the hills.
Can it be? Can we start to really hope that salvation has arrived in the form of five ragged, beaten strangers limping into our lives?
We wait.
We pray.
We hope.
Fin.