I was asked about it, so here it is, Prozen's side of the story…so sad…;_;
Chapter 15: Wish you were here.
Prozen woke slowly to
feel Ambient pressed against his back. He felt strangely alone, and this didn't
feel right at all…where was the warmth he'd been dreaming of? He fumbled with
the quilt to try and reach the other body, but no one was there. Shocked, he
sat upright.
"Hiltz?"
No answer.
Okay, he must be getting breakfast or something, yes, that was it.
…No.
It was getting dark, so it was afternoon. He looked over Ambient's chest unit at the alarm clock sitting on the dresser, and stared at the time, four thirty. He'd been asleep during the day? Everything felt so fuzzy and wrong…
I need Hiltz. Where is he? The craving was strong. He wanted to be held, touched, soothed. He needed it.
There was something in his mind…a picture…
Ambient rolled over, his hind legs waving in the air and cooed appreciatively as Prozen reached down and scratched his stomach. Actually, he wasn't sure if Organoids could feel it, but Ambient seemed to like it.
Hiltz…
The dream came back now, of his old house, and the fact that now it was shrouded with darkness. Something was inside it, something terrible…and Hiltz was there. His normally bright and glowing spirit was dampened and held down by threads of a murky red brown colour, the colour of dried blood. He was giving in to it, slowly allowing himself to be taken apart, and then destroyed…
He had to find him.
Standing up unsteadily, Prozen moved across the room and poked his head around the door. He sniffed, picking up the
…Delicious…scent of blood, and his stomach growled. Why was he so excited by that scent? It spoke something to him, something he remembered from long ago…something important…
Ambient nudged him in the small of his back.
"Easy, I'm going…"
He felt so hot…
As he moved down the corridor and listened to the voices below, he could feel someone leave the building and hear the beat of four hearts down below on the ground floor of the building. The knowledge frightened him, but at the same time comforted him, eased his fear and pain.
Being afraid was not something he was unfamiliar with. Quite the opposite, because now, as he moved, things were startlingly easy to remember, bright and bold. He had always been afraid, in the days of the Empire's glory. From waking up, to finally giving in…
The last clear thing he remembered of the chaos of infanthood was being pulled from the DeathSaurer's cockpit by frantic people. He had been drenched in blood, his own and others, family. Shivering, weak. They'd cleaned him up as best they could, and sealed him in the warmth of a capsule. That life, the one of persecution and torture, had never left him. He had simply fallen asleep, and the next day he had awoken to a man looking down at him, filled with curiosity.
He'd been raised in the Empire as the Emperor's foster son. He had been loved, and had grown in that love, forever missing his companions, a stigma on his soul. He had always asked the emperor if there were anyone by the name of Hiltz Sierra in the records, but alas, no one was there. The best friend he had ever had…was gone. The people grew afraid of him in this little world, where power meant everything. Prozen had learnt quickly, forgetting the old ways as the doctors who spoke to him, asked him strange questions about his life and began prescribing pills and fluids for him to take. And slowly, like falling asleep, he'd drifted into the strange world, doing whatever he was asked to by the only person who ever actually loved him. Power became a drug to him. No, not power, the desire to rule. Looking back, there was little wonder; it was in the blood after all. He was not human, he was Rare Hertz.
But he could never escape what they had done to him, the Zoidians. He always felt dread when anyone talked about them to him. Now he remembered why.
He remembered being strapped into the machine, hooked up to the life support system, and then drained of all will as Zoids swam into existence. From his blood, sweat and tears they came, as he scratched at the table and screamed with pain, they took almost all the life energy he had to make their war machines. Not natural Zoids.
They took blood, they examined him, and they stripped him naked and left him in the darkness of a cell while they discussed him. And why? They were curious, yes, but why? Did they think he was an animal? Did they not realise that Rare Hertz were the true rulers of Zi? That they controlled everything?
And yet…
Killed off…one by one…the survivors left to be stronger…until…there was only one left…
His head span and he slumped to the floor. Alone. He was alone. The last of his kind. Not even the parent species, the kind that gave birth to him, were there.
Where is Hiltz?!
It had been a surprise when Hiltz had turned up on the doorstep one day, asking to see him. Hiltz, he discovered, had slept too, and had been looking for him. Meeting him…had been…amazing. There had been this…sense of belonging. Hope. Joy. He knew this strange, messy haired man. He hadn't been the least bit shocked when Hiltz had embraced him and kissed his forehead. It had been one of the most wonderful moments of his life…
Hiltz told him things. Helped him remember. Encouraged him. Praised him. Held him. Slept beside him when the voice of Dark Kaiser sang too loudly to be ignored. Curled up against his warmth between soft and familiar sheets, this strange love between them chaste and pure.
You'll get through this. I know you will.
He played up to the expectations of the court, but he would never lie to the one person in his life that knew the truth about him. And of course, the emperor himself…
Ambient nudged him again, and Prozen slid an arm around the organoid's neck so he could help him up. The organoid cooed softly in response, and pulled him to his feet, purring softly.
He had to be strong. Hiltz was not dead. Yet.
Prozen climbed down the stairs and tried to ignore the blood smell. It was no longer enticing; instead, it was filled with corruption. The smell of decay was disgusting.
"Gunther! What are you doing up?"
Surprised, Prozen took a step back, suddenly alert. "Colonel…Shubaltz?" Yes…Karl was taking care of him. Now he remembered.
"Uh…"
"I see we were attacked." Prozen replied as images came into his head of people he had once known. "Understandable. I…remember…Mister Janae."
"Who?"
"The leader of the Reapers. That's what those people are. Can you smell the decay yet? You will…"
"Can you…tell us what they are?"
Ah, this was Evelyn Camford. The president of the Helic Republic, and therefore the enemy. No, correction, no longer the enemy. By Ambient's records, the day after the destruction of the ancient city, she had stepped down from power. It had been too much for her.
Prozen met her gaze, and found that she refused to back down. He smiled, feeling a little better. Yes, she could probably be trusted.
"A Reaper is a Zoidian with a desperate desire to hurt as many people as possible. My people also called them the Red Sun. Like we hid from the sun beneath the ground, we hid from them. The red circle on their heads is their symbol…Rhyss, I believe, is a Reaper. Yes, she was one of the ones who caught me in the first place." He said softly, musing to himself. "Their…natural abilities are heightened by the willing ingestion of one of Zi's…lesser-known species. Merns." He pointed at the bodies. "Do you see that strange clear…jelly…that is forming on the wounds? That's how you know…it…it's a slug, I think. They inhabit the stagnant underground pools. They're not poisonous but you wouldn't drink that water because apart from the water tasting foul, you might get infested with their eggs. Then who knows how many you'd be infected with…" He shrugged. "I don't feel very well."
"You have a slight fever. Why haven't there any references to texts to do with Reapers?"
"There are. But people don't want to know about a group of insane Zoidians who killed off the native species of Zi. It doesn't fit in with the people's views. How in the world did I catch a fever?"
"Drafts." Karl replied. "Can you tell us what an Aether is?"
Prozen cocked his head to the side. "Aether…? Yes…a forest dwelling humanoid species. Zoidian children called them fairies. A number of species called them food, including mine…but they eventually lost their need for flight and wings are used for attracting a mate. Is this conversation going to steer towards someone getting me a drink of something cold?"
"I don't know yet." Karl replied. "But it is going to go in the direction of Raven." He pointed at the slumped form on the couch. "We were told you could help him. Is that true?"
Gently guided to his side, Prozen looked at his unconscious foster son, and then at his wounds. As he looked, he received little flashes of memory in his mind of something else. A woman, who…looked remarkably like Raven, only her hair…it was white…As he probed the wound, he probed the memory, and fell deeper…yes…her name…it was also Raven…unlike the others…her eyes were not red…but a deep dark grey, almost black…she was related to him somehow. He picked the glass carefully out of the wound, feeling his own body adjust to sooth the jangled nerves that sang in the youth's flesh. Raven relaxed as the numbing sensation crawled up his arm.
The woman was paired off with a male he'd never met, nor ever had done. His name forgotten over the tides of time, he had been killed when one of the cities of the Delnia were destroyed by the Zoidians. He had been…dragged out…and pinned to the metal roof of the communications hut, and they watched him burn and scream and beg for mercy. Raven…the female Raven…his father's sister…had known, and had almost taken her own life…but…before he was born…his father had coerced the sick female back into health again. She became a general of their army.
She had also been his minder when his father worked.
The memory of running at her side as the Red Sun came into their city, blew apart the entry ways, and destroyed everything, hearing the gun shots, and hearing her pain. She had run on, even with a lethal wound to her body, she had saved him. Or at least, thought she had. Locked him in one of the service lifts with a clerk from offices. Then…they…had broken in…her life…her light…she had summoned her energy to save him, to save them. But still they had come. Still they had killed. The clerk was dragged away. His fate unknown…but death was probably the answer.
But little Winter Drachnia was proudly tied up and taken away.
"Gunther…?"
Karl's touch and scent awoke him from the destruction. The fear. Gone were the visions of yesterday, here was now, and now was fear. It leaked off Thomas' skin like a waterfall.
"Karl…Raven, he's…Oh gods, I don't want to loose him. I've lost too much…" He stared at his bloodied hand and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Truth was, he didn't know what he was doing, his heart hammering in his chest. But his body did. It was simply a question of harmony – convince yourself you are a part of the patient and remember what the body was like before the accident. Slowly, he ran his thumbs down either side of the cuts and sealed them, stroking the flesh back together, re-knitting the torn fibres and veins and leaving white scars behind. Scars were things he did not know how to heal.
"Too much…" He whispered. "I've been resting too long…too much damage…Raven…Zi…oh gods…"
At his side was a deeper and more worrisome wound. Prozen shifted his weight, as more things came to mind, a memory of a man whom he resembled. He was sitting on a grassy hillside as night fell with his son in his lap as he taught him the fundamental truths about the powers of healing. Light from the sinking sun flowed around them as his father inhaled the shifting energy around him, absorbing it with great delight as it touched the exposed areas of his skin. Resting in that fortress of soft linen and warmth, it had been the safest place he could clearly remember, apart from Hiltz' arms. The words of his father had been soft and patient, his deep voice soothing to the delicate child he held.
It is a lie if you are told we can do anything. There are limits, even to you, my child. Our power is divided between us, not equally, unfortunately. As each of us dies, the rhythm flows faster in those left behind. Have you felt this, Winter?
The answer was yes. There were some days when he would wake up and the room would be spinning. A child was unable to control power it should not have.
We do not rejoice in our powers growing like this. Growing naturally is different, because we all change. Sometimes we grow stronger. Sometimes we become weaker. This is because of the choices we make in life itself. Know that we are among the last, Winter, and in time, I feel, it will be you who will sow the seeds of a new generation. His eyes, the same crimson, were so filled with love. The innocent though, did not understand at all. It is not for me to decide what you do. Know that you must wait, wait until you know you are ready for what is ahead of you. But know that with great power comes a great price. They will hate you for what you are. You may find yourself in the company of those who do not understand. Don't forget this world. Don't forget who and what you are.
But he had. In anger, he dived into the darkness that shrouded the limp body in front of him and tore at the wound, and at the death shroud that covered him from loss of blood. Warnings of his tutors screamed in his ears, but he could not hear them as he retreated deeper into his corporeal shell. In his mind's eye he strengthened the fractured ribs, repaired the damaged organs, then pulled outwards towards, repairing the flesh as he went along. Threads of flesh wove and intertwined forming a bridge to heal the wound, but his head span, his breath hitched and he felt himself spin away again and fall. Was he falling in his mind or his body? Was this…Raven's death he could feel?
He hit something warm, both mentally and physically, awash in a golden aura of protection more felt than seen. Little coloured lights exploded in his vision, and he could not move for a moment before he relaxed into this strange place. He opened his eyes to stare into Karl's face, alight with wonder.
"…Gunther?"
"Karl! Karl look! Look at Raven!"
Movement. In a haze, Prozen watched as the bodies moved around him, everything so slow and strange. He did feel hot. And so very, very thirsty. But there was no energy to help either of these ailments. He watched the warm glow of Raven's body, at the dribble of blood that now came was from each beat of his heart. From here, it was so easy to see everything, so easy to see how everything fit together and worked. He could see Evelyn begin to bandage a now much lesser wound, sense the fear begin to leave their bodies, the lights that glowed within them dimming through both relaxation and his own grip on consciousness.
"…Thank you…" Came the whisper above him.
Karl's hands touched his face again, and before he slid back into the blessed coolness of sleep, he felt the colonel kiss his forehead. Not at all repulsed by this touch, Prozen allowed himself to sink into the crimson depths of a world only he knew, and drifted into the dark.
~ to be continued.
Just so you know, at some point in time, I want to try and write Zoids: Rapid Fire. It's the build up to the events that destroyed the Zoidians. I also want to do a short about how Raven was named – Gunther's aunt on his father's side had the same name because she was a throwback to the days of yore and had dark eyes – Gunther sees this sort of thing in the Raven we all know and love from the series. Almost as if he was family. *whimpers* He's lost everybody hasn't he?
