Thanks everyone, as always, you guys are wonderful. I must say Labedomenypotu() that your reviews are always very entertaining, and they're good at reminding me of what I need to add in the next chapter. And of course thanks to Kitty and Psyche and LittleRedHead and Callie-Cat...it's your encouragement that keeps me writing this! (And my ego, of course ;) )

Earth's Children

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way...

-Ancient Earth literature (Charles Dickens)

Episode Seventeen

It was a bright sunny day, about midsummer or so, and we were celebrating my son's fourteenth birthday. On an occassion of such happiness, it was hard to not also feel sad. There were so many who were not there with us that should have been. If I begin listing names, I'd probably never finish, so let me continue. With our small, meager but heart-felt gifts, the five of us were gathered behind our home waiting...for Seamus.

"I don't understand what's taking him so long," Josephine said again, her voice filled with impatience. She glanced at Brendan, a slight frown upon his face.

"Don't look at me! Usually when I don't go with him, Shay only stays at the dump for a few minutes." Automatically our glances turned towards Caitlin, who was sitting on the ground, legs outstretched, hands running through the pale green blades, completely unaware -or at least, ignoring,- our looks. Josephine watched her for a moment before turning back to Brendan in order to question him further about our wayward son. I continued watching my niece and so, I noticed, did Orla. I felt for my sister to a point of painess; Orla loved all people, all children, fiercely, but most particularly her own children (as well as Seamus) and specifically her daughter. I, strangely enough, did not feel all that bad for Caitlin. She was special; there was something different about her. Sometimes when I looked into her eyes, when she didn't quickly look away that is, I felt like I was staring into the deepest of oceans -or into some miniature galaxy hidden away behind her wide dark eyes.

Then Orla noticed me staring and gave a small smile. I grinned back in an effort to hide my thoughts. I was more worried about my sister than her daughter; once we had been near-mirror images. Obviously as we had grown older that had changed; but now the contrast was startling. My skin was at least three shades darker than her sickly pale one; no longer could the flush of youth and beauty -and health- be seen on her fair face. Her very hair had turned a washed-out blonde, and her smile no longer filled one with joy, though it might surprise someone to see the kindness in it.

"Shay, there you are! It's about time!" Clutching the gift I had for him behind my back I turned at the sound of Orla's voice. Seamus scowled, his hands hanging loosely in the pockets of his torn pants. With a too-big vest of a stiff material, and an old shirt of mine with the sleeves rolled up he was a bit gruff looking -but I had never felt prouder of him. Despite his attitude problem that surfaced from time to time, he was a smart kid, and a decent boy.

"I told you to quit calling me 'Shay'! It sounds like a baby's name..." He grumbled. Orla looked slightly hurt at his tone; the others had started calling him that years ago and he'd only recently begun to insist on them using his full first name.

"Happy birthday cuzo!" Brendan grinned and punched him playfully on the shoulder. Seamus pretended to swing a punch at him but his cousin ducked easily.

"Enough you two, let's give him his presents before it gets dark."

"Yeah Brendan, you're keeping me from getting my gifts," Seamus teased. With a few laughs they settled down and one by one we handed him some trinket or other that he exclaimed at and thanked us for grandly. Only Caitlin, sitting a little apart from the rest of us, seemed unaware of the goings-on. I went last and cleared my throat before talking.

"I wish I could say that this has a long family history, but the one I used to have got left back in Ireland..." I said gruffly as I held out the tin whistle. Seamus took it curiously from my hands and examined it.

"Neat...what is it?"

"It's a tin whistle; a musical instrument. My father taught me to play and Liam found me that one back when we lived in Dunwich." Behind me Josephine laid a hand on my arm and made a soft noise as she no doubt recalled the event Liam had given it to me for.

"Wow, thanks Dad. You're gonna teach me how to play it, right?" Not one for sentimental words he looked back up at me and his smile was more than enough thanks nonetheless.

"Of course I'm gonna teach you! Whether you want to learn or not! Someone needs to make music around here."

Ever since the Nietzscheans had raided the tunnels a year ago the Saturday music nights had pretty much ceased as most people were afraid to dwell underground for too long. Every few weeks Josephine and I would go; once in awhile Seamus or Brendan would come along too.

So I spent the rest of the day teaching him how to play some simple songs. So the others wouldn't get bored, I took it myself and played for a bit, giving the women a chance to dance a bit. They dragged the boys and tried to get Caitlin to at least spin with them. She put up with this for a few minutes before pulling away; finally sauntering over to where I stood and staring at the instrument with immense scrutiny. As evening fell I again went back to showing Seamus the different notes. It's fairly easy to play the tin whistle; it's memorizing the songs that's a bit trickier.

Just as the sun was saying it's last goodbye, and we were gathering our things to move them inside, Josephine's sharp voice cut through the air; abruptly changing the playful mood to one of somber silence.

"Seamus -what is that?" She pointed to a spot on his upper arm. Flushing, Seamus quickly pulled his sleeve down that had gotten pushed up during his wrestling with Brendan. But Josephine wouldn't relent. She took hold of his arm and pulled the sleeve back up. On his upper right arm was a small black and white circle. It looked like a tattoo. I placed a comforting hand on Josephine's shoulder but she ignored it as Orla and Brendan looked over our shoulders at the design.

"It's just a tattoo Mom, you don't need to freak out over it." Seamus matched his mother's tone and turned to give her a glare. My wife gave a tight laugh that held no amusement.

"Oh I disagree Seamus; I think this is something I should freak out over. Did you even listen to me when I told you why you couldn't get any body piercings or other, other-" She gestured to the tattoo, apparently at a loss for words. Seamus was now looking both hurt and angry.

"It's a yin-yang Mom! It's supposed to represent harmony and balance and all that other peace-crap you're always talking about! I thought you might even like it, but I should have known you wouldn't even give me half a chance to explain!" My hand on Josephine's shoulder tightened slightly.

"You and the others go inside Rose, I'll handle this."

"Don't you dare go easy on him!" She whispered to me furiously, though complying to my request. I nodded vaguely and turned back to my son. Neither of us said anything as the rest of the family went back inside.

"You're not going to yell at me?" Seamus asked suspiciously. I shrugged slowly sinking to take a seat on the cool ground.

"Not much point is there? I mean, you've already gone and gotten the thing done."

"I don't see why she's so against it anyway," Seamus muttered, scuffing his foot against the grass.

"She's so against it because it's dangerous Seamus! And not the normal everyday dangerous, it's an unnecessary risk. And you know what your mother says about those." I said quietly.

"Why did you suddenly feel like you had to get one anyway?" I asked curiously.

"I dunno... it just seemed neat I guess." Not much of an answer but I decided not to press him for a better one.

"Did you at least get it done by someone reliable? They used a clean needle and all that?" Seamus gave me a look of pure scorn.

"Of course I did Dad, I'm not stupid."

"Let's not get started on that subject; not on your birthday anyway," I replied with raised answers. With a sigh I cast another glance at the design on his arm.

"At least it's pretty small. Let's just hope it doesn't get infected. I'll talk to your mother," I added softly as I stood up and headed back inside, Seamus following behind me.

"Thanks Dad," His warm smile was worth the strength it took for me to not blow up at him myself. After all, Josephine had been right; such things were dangerous and often resulted in death. It was beyond me why anyone would want to do something so stupid. Then again he was my son. When had I grown into such a responsible adult? With a sad smile as I walked up the stairs I realized that Liam had looked out much better for me than I was for Seamus.

It was Caitlin's scream that awoke us in the middle of the night. Long, shrill, and unending; as soon as Josephine and I realized what it was we rushed down the stairs to Orla's room. She was frantically trying to calm her daughter but Caitlin pushed her arms away. We crowded around her for a few minutes to see if she was injured or simply had a bad dream.

"Mom! Dad!" Seamus' hoarse voice caught our attention and we turned to see him standing by the window, one shaking hand pointing outside towards the sky. We fell silent, even Caitlin's strange sounding voice becoming quiet. Then we heard it; as though from a great distance came the sounds of screams and crashes.

"Magog," Josephine was absolutely white as she said the word and I felt panic running through me. I looked around frantically, trying to think of what we should do.

"Quickly, downstairs!" Orla took Caitlin firmly by the arm and pulled her out the door lightning quick. Josephine and Brendan raced after her; only Seamus stood still, staring out the window -frozen with terror.

"Let's go!" I said sharply and I grabbed him by the shoulder. Not waiting for an answer I half dragged him behind me and down the stairs. In the main room Orla and Josephine had already pried open the old trapdoor. It hadn't been used in more than a year, and was covered in dust. Caitlin seemed more frightened of going inside the dark space rather than the threat of Magog. With our combined efforts we brought her in, then Brendan and Seamus, then the girls, and finally myself last, making sure the door shut completely. It was perhaps our best defence against the Magog, unless we wanted to make a run for the ocean shore. Soon the familiar, though still terrible, sounds of destruction and horror outside filled our ears.

Together we huddled in that dark, tight space, trying to keep Caitlin crying and each other from panicking. I was reminded of the trip from Ireland to the boat in the dark back of a transport vehicle. I could tell Orla was remembering it too as she reached over to grasp my hand and give me a smile. My other arm was around Josephine, who was clinging to me, head laying on my shoulder. Brendan and Caitlin were by their mother, holding each other's hands. Only Seamus sat near the back; arms around his legs, which he had pulled up, and head buried in his arms. I wanted to say or do something to comfort him but was afraid to risk making noise.

Our worst fears were realized when we heard feet -and claws- scraping above our heads. Our lives could easily have ended that night. We huddled, if it were possible, even closer to each other. Now Josephine had Seamus in a fierce hug. My sister, my wife, and I, all exchanged looks. It was a silent agreement among us; if the Magog found us, we'd fight so that the children might run away to safety. Maybe we wouldn't be able to do anything at all for them, but we had to try. Just as I was trying to ready myself for my last few minutes of death, there was a tremendous crash above us; harsh shrieking, as though the Magog were communicating, and then the sound of them leaving in a hurry. We were all relieved for perhaps a single moment. And then we realized why they had left.

The smell of acrid smoke quickly filled the small room. My eyes widened in disbelief: Our home was on fire! Pushing Orla and Caitlin aside, I reached for the latch, opened it, and pushed. Nothing happened. Whatever the crash had been, it must have fallen on the door, because I couldn't open it. The house was burning down and we were trapped inside.

Caitlin started screaming again, which only added to the chaos, as I tried to explain to Orla and Josephine that the door wouldn't open. Their faces showed fear, but both of them moved forward to try and help me push the door open. I told Brendan and Caitlin to sit in the back with Seamus to give us more room. Caitlin, tears streaming down her face, and Brendan, eyes wide with fear, both complied quickly. The smell of smoke grew stronger and as I touched the wood on the edges of the door my hands grew hot quickly. Had our hiding place saved us from the Magog only to trap us in a fiery death?

Maybe as we realized that if the door didn't open, all of us, including our children, would die, adrenaline surged through our bodies. Or maybe the fire had somehow loosened whatever lay above us; I don't really know. All I know is that we didn't die that night. As the three of us continued to push the door finally began to give way. With one last strain, it opened and I thrust my entire weight against it, throwing it open. I immediately had to close my eyes as they were stung with smoke. Fire was practically surrounding us, but I turned to help Orla and Josephine out. Orla was practically carrying Caitlin, and Josephine had turned to help me pull Brendan and Seamus out. The front door was blocked by fire but the kitchen remained untouched, so we used the small door through that room to take us outside. We ran from the house when suddenly Orla screamed loudly. Caitlin's painful cry quickly followed and I stopped running to see what was wrong. Caitlin's hair had caught fire and Orla was aimlessly trying to put it out. I pushed past Josephine and the boys to reach my niece. Ignoring her shouts, I pulled her to the ground and smothered the flames in the damp ground. Caitlin continued to cry as I helped her to her feet.

"Talk about out of the fire into the frying pan," I said gruffly, trying to calm everyone down. Orla gave me a weak smile and Brendan grinned for a quick moment. Certainly our danger was not over; Magog were still everywhere and we had to pull ourselves into the shadows surrounding the burning house. I was too tired to think of any more bright ideas. I supposed that if any more Magog came by, which seemed unlikely since the fire of the house would likely deter most beings, we could grab sticks, set them on fire, and fight off the aliens that way. For the most part though, we were left alone for the rest of the night, slumped against a nearby concrete wall, clinging to each other.

I think the others drifted in and out of sleep evantually, I don't know for sure. I know that I didn't sleep at all. My eyes were held by the sight of our home slowly burning down.

Somehow it didn't seem possible that our lives could resume. But they did. Evantually the Nietzscheans got soldiers to the Human Ghetto -the last place they came, of course,- and fought back. The Magog, once again, retreated, and we were left to pick up the pieces of our broken lives. Which was not nearly as easy as it sounded. Apparently the Nietzscheans had lost a lot of people, because for the next few weeks there were slave raids practically every night. Frankly it was a miracle that all of us survived the whole ordeal intact.

Or so I thought at the time.

To our surprise, a lot of the house was still standing. Barely. The first floor walls were mostly made of concrete or metal, and thus provided some minimal shelter. It took us weeks to clear out all the burned wood that had come from our upper floors. Some of the wood we salvaged to use in rebuilding, the rest we had to build from scrap pieces of other destroyed homes and buildings. We lost more than that however; practically all of our food had been destroyed as well, not to mention the few rags we had for extra clothes, blankets, etc.

It was going to be a hard winter that year; that was certain.

It turned out to be a harder one than any of us could imagine.

Everyone, even Caitlin, was busy helping to get some form of protective shelter up before the frost came. Luckily we had several weeks before the cold started. Every day the kids went out to search for materials we could use, or to beg for food. Several times both Brendan and Seamus would come back with arms full of food, but with vague stories as to how they came about it. Neither Orla or I were willing to condone stealing, but Josphine convinced us that desperate times called for desperate measures. Needless to say, the following months were exhausting, both physically and emotionally. In some ways it seemed unsurprising the lack of food and intense fatigue took it's toll.

Around the middle of Autumn, while helping me nail a board across one of the holes in our newly-built wall, Orla simply collapsed. Just as she had a long while ago when one of the more devastating plagues had swept through our homes. I'd heard of history repeating itself, but never had I imagined that it could do so in such terrible ways. Without a word, heart in my throat, I ran to her side and picked her up. I was startled by how little she weighed; Caitlin must have been heavier than she.

Crying out for Josephine I carried my sister inside and set her on the small pile of blankets we'd managed to accumulate.

"What's the matter Evan?" She came in and she stopped sharply upon seeing Orla.

"I don't know what happened! She just fainted...one moment she seemed fine and the next she was laying on the ground..." I hovered over both of them as Josephine felt her pulse and laid a hand against her cheek.

"She had a fever and her pulse is...erratic. She must have been skipping meals to save more for the children." Josephine sighed deeply and absently brushed a strand of hair from Orla's face.

"What do we do?" I asked promptly. Josephine looked up at me, eyes tired and looking older than I remembered them.

"What can we do Evan? I have no medicine, no clean water to speak of, practically no food..." She raised her hands helplessly and without thought I drew her into a tight hug, both seeking comfort and offering it.

"We can't let her die," I said hoarsely. Cheek against my shoulder, I felt Josephine nod.

"It's up to her now." Together we made her comfortable. Josephine went about trying to get her fever down and I sat by her side, hand holding Orla's gently.

"Devin..?" Her eyes opened for a moment and I forced a smile.

"Sorry Orla, just me, just Evan..."

"Evan..." She stared at me then closed her eyes again. When Brendan and Seamus returned, Caitlin trailing behind them, I told them to stay quiet so as not to disturb Orla. Of course Brendan was frantic, and even Caitlin showed an uncharacteristic trace of concern. Seamus watched her prone form with a silent expression. His face was that of an old man's and I couldn't help feeling despair begin to overcome me. Is there any frustration greater than that of knowing that you can do nothing to help ease the suffering of your loved ones?

All any of us could really do was make Orla comfortable, force-feed her broth (when we were even able to make that) and wait. Orla was stronger than she looked, and some days she would seem much improved and knew us; other days she drifted in and out of concsciouness. I wondered if Liam or any of the others ever came to her in her dreams. More than once she would call out for Devin; for our parents; and I would kiss her face, holding her hand tightly between my own. Josephine was as anxious as me, but she exerted her concern into more practical efforts, only stopping occassionally to ask how she was doing. I remember my last real conversation with her, a few weeks into winter, just after the first snows had started to stick on the ground.

"Evan is that you?" I jerked my head up; I'd been falling asleep as I sat beside her.

"I'm here Orla...how are you feeling?"

"Tired," Was her only reply, though she tried to muster a smile.

"You should rest, save your strength," I said quietly. She shook her head slowly at my words.

"It's not fair...this shouldn't be happening to you," I muttered angrily. She gave my hand a gentle sqeeze, sweat shining on her forehead.

"There are worse ways to die."

"You're not going to die.." I said sharply.

"Maybe not," She murmured, watching me with serene eyes.

"You have to stay alive! Brendan and Caitlin need you! Seamus needs you! -I need you."

"Not Josephine?" She attempted a playful smile to avoid answering.

"Josephine doesn't need anyone." I said in reply.

"She needs Seamus...and you." Her tone was serious this time and I could only give a soft shake of my head. I tried again.

"Devin will need you, when he comes back." This time Orla was silent for a long while before answering. She watched me, eyes unblinking, for countless moments.

"What if instead, I am going to him?"

"Don't say that," I admonished quietly, refusing to entertain her notions of dying.

"Don't worry so much Evan, everything will be alright..." and slowly her eyes closed again. My heart nearly stopped but she continued to breathing. She had only fallen asleep once more. At least she wasn't in any pain that we could see. For another whole week she stayed like that. When she did awake I was usually busy doing something else, but Brendan, Seamus, or Josephine would sit with her. Sometimes, when no one else was around and she didn't know I was watching, Caitlin would creep up to her mother and gently run her hands over her forehead. If Orla started to wake she'd run off quickly.

But as the days grew colder and the darkness grew longer, Orla faded a little more each day. Finally one night she awoke with a start and called to us. I was the only one there at the time but luckily the others were outside. I yelled for them to come quickly and soon we filled the small room. Orla didn't say much else; she just opened her eyes and smiled at us. Brendan stepped forward and she took his hand. She said something to him but none of us could hear. Longer minutes passed when suddenly Caitlin rushed forward, burying her head against her mother.

"Caitlin..." Orla smiled again, and with, I think, the last of her strength, brushed away Caitlin's tears. Her eyes flicked over to me and I nodded, tears blurring my vision.

...Will you protect them?...

...I'll do my best; if it'll be enough...

...It will be enough...

The words didn't need to be said out loud for us to understand each other. It had pretty much always been that way between us. For all my life, literally, Orla had been by my side. Never had the two of us been seperated. It was a startling thought. And now we would never be at each other's side again in this life.

Sad as it was; I cried fewer tears than I had for Liam, Lughna, Siobhan, or Declan. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because Orla seemed so resigned to her fate. Maybe it was because I couldn't help but feel that wherever she was now, it had to be better than our life here. There was no wood to be spared for burning; instead we dug a grave one wet day when the sky couldn't decide whether it wished to rain or snow, and therefore did both. I wasn't the only one who she only a few silent tears; Seamus didn't seem able to cry at all but stared at his Aunt's makeshift coffin with sunken eyes; Brendan, an arm around Caitlin tightly, pushed away tears steadily, Josephine cried little as well...only Caitlin wept in such a way that we'd never seen before. Brendan tried to embrace her, and to our surprise, Caitlin let him enfold her with his arms. Just as their cousins before them...they had been orphaned at a young age. And again, they were not truly orphaned. Josephine and I were there, and vowed to protect them till our last breath.

And we did.

Author's Note:

Wow! Look at how quickly I got this written! And it's long too! O.O Yay! Now should I post it quickly or wait a few days...? hmm....I guess I'll be nice and post it right away. In return, you have to forgive any grammar/spelling mistakes. Well, I know it was pretty sad, but trust me...it'll probably get worse, though not right away...honestly, I have no idea how many more chapters this will take. I'm estimating...one more from josephine's point of view...and...and....one that's split between them, and that's probably going to be it! Wow...well, I'll post the next chapter when I'm able to write it. I wouldn't hold my breath though, if I were you...Thanks for reading,

Luna Sealeaf