The Amber Enclave, Urs IV (Sanghelios), Urs System, 12/09/2520

Age 14

I step off of the landing ship and cover my eyes with my hand, the sun, blazing above, beating down on me. I look up at the sky and am reminded of the hot summer days back on Earth. I never realized how much I would miss a bright blue sky until I spent 14 years of my life having a purple dome for a sky.

My father walks up from behind me, "Most of the time when Sangheili first visit Sanghelios they suffer from agoraphobia. I'm glad to see that you're stronger than that."

I take in a deep breath. It's probably placebo but the air feels fresher here. I stare out into the horizon where an endless blue ocean meets the sky. I'm reminded of stories of European explorers sailing to what they think is the edge of the world. What I wouldn't give to just take a ship and sail off and see what cultures and cities exist on Sanghelios.

I turn back to my father and respond, "If anything I may suffer from claustrophobia when we return to High Charity."

He lets out a faint chuckle, hiding it as soon as I turn to look at him, "We can discuss it later. Right now we need to stop blocking the exit."

I turn around and suddenly realize that the other travelers on the landing craft are starting to make their way off the ship. Not all of them acclimated as quickly as me, unlucky for them. My father motions me out of the way as he goes to grab my brother. I think Taso is as quick to adjust to being on a planet as I did, if not then I get another leg up on him.

I follow the crowd of people until they reach the exit. I wait next to the exit for my father and brother to arrive. They eventually arrive, my father looking tired from the trip, and my brother apprehensive, probably trying his best to hide his discomfort.

I fall in line behind them. First time visiting Sanghelios and I'm already enjoying it.

Sometimes the extreme limits Sangheili are willing to go through is annoying at best. The over reliance on physical strength, combat capabilities. There's a definite logic to it, but it doesn't counter the fact that it still annoys me.

But occasionally I enjoy it. Staring at the statue in front of me, millennia old and hundreds of feet tall, this is one of the times where I admire the effort Sangheili put into things. They don't like to do things half assed and it can show. When they want to build a statue, they don't build some rinky dink statue that will erode in a hundred years, they build one to last.

I stare at the two statues in front of the temple. Two giant stone Sangheili guarding the temple with energy swords that could cleave mountains in two.

And one of the best parts about it in my opinion? It isn't that shade of purple that the Covenant loves way too much. Instead the surroundings are this beautiful sandy orange, reflecting the intense heat of the sun which have bleached the rocks here for millions of years. It's natural and awe inspiring.

Maybe I'm just going insane because I've seen enough purple to make my eyes desensitized to any other color.

"Hey Vol," I hear my brother shout from the entrance of the temple, I look up the stairs into the temple where he stands, "Perchance if you are done staring at rocks, we are entering."

He turns back in and I jog up the stairs to meet him. He is standing in the doorway, my father is nowhere to be seen. I jog over to meet him but am stopped as a large group of Sangheili pass in between us, all of them wearing the same onyx colored robes.

I weave my way around them and meet up with my brother, "Who even were these people?" I ask.

"Pilgrims," he answers, staring down at me with disapproval, "Here to pay respects to their ancestors."

From his tone I realize it's something I should have known. "I, uh, yeah…" I trail off, "I knew that."

Yeah great job your brother is totally gonna believe you after that.

He scoffs and walks off towards one of the wings. I follow at a fair distance behind him, observing the Sangheili around us. I now realize that most of them aren't actually tourists but instead pilgrims. I should've realized that from the start. It doesn't take a genius to realize that the tourism economy within the Covenant isn't exactly booming.

In fact the only reason I'm technically here is because my father is helping oversee some banshee pilot training program. Even right now he is probably in some corner of the temple making some call that he needs to do this exact moment.

I bump into a passing by Sangheili who snaps at me. I step out of the way and spy my brother past a crowd, going… somewhere. He isn't checking to see if I am following him. He probably won't notice then if I duck into a crowd and make my way in a different direction.

I follow the crowd for a bit, drawing a few confused glances from the people within the crowd. Eventually upon spying my escape I leave the group and duck into a less cramped hallway. The hallway itself is not much different than the rest of the temple, with the same towering ceiling and arches, but the lack of people makes it more enjoyable. When in High Charity silence is a surprisingly rare commodity, getting a chance in a place like this to be on my own is a godsend.

I walk down the hallway examining each statue as I pass by them, the sheer mountainous height giving a larger-than-life appearance to them. Each one has just enough minute detail to make it distinct. Some are wielding plasma rifles, others energy swords, some weapons that I don't recognize. Some have injuries, others have broken armor, some look like heroes out of a textbook. Others look like literal deities.

It takes me a bit to realize that these aren't just generic statues, they're statues of actual Sangheili who existed. What did these Sangheili do? I don't know. I guess they forwent with the placards and just expect you to know who they are.

I stop by one of the statues near the end. There stands an absolutely giant Sangheili compared to the others, in one hand he is holding what seems to the the grandfather of the plasma rifle, aiming towards some invisible enemy in the distance. In his other hand holds the ancient precursor to the energy sword, aiming it towards the sky in what I think is some rallying cry. His head is turned down to the right, facing some unseen crowd.

His armor is odd, and seems to be made up of layered plates, stacking on themselves, with a crown-like looking helmet on his head. The sandy statue looks amazing enough as is, I can't imagine what he would have looked like in person.

"Tzan 'Gasumai," a voice says from behind me, gentle and patient. I turn around and am face to face with one of the temple caretakers, "Savior of the Silver Meridian." Her sight is caught between me and the statue.

She towers over me, being a full head taller than me. If I saw her outside the temple I would have thought she would be a warrior, but as it is she is one of the temple caretakers, wearing orange flowery robes that almost make her look like she is floating. I had heard of them previously, devoting their life to the temple, I guess in a society as male-dominated as this, it doesn't sound that bad of a job.

I remember some old history lesson I got years ago. I think the Silver Meridian she said is a salt-flat on one the early Sangheili colonies. I remember hearing that there was once a civil war, or maybe a revolution that took place on that planet. This was before the Covenant was formed. I wonder what he was like, his people, my people, before they had been brainwashed.

The caretaker turns to me, she asks, "Not many visit this section of the temple. What brings you here?" I don't detect any immediate malice in her voice, more just slight curiosity.

"I, uh," my instincts tell me that I'm doing something wrong, most of the time when I'm in this situation I'm being lectured. I swallow and continue, "I was just wandering around. I wanted to explore the temple on my own so I just picked a direction and started walking," I awkwardly reply.

She gives me a sidelong yet amused glance, "I take it you aren't from Sanghelios."

I nod, "I'm from High Charity."

"And you don't look to be a pilgrim."

"Yeah I'm not," I respond. She almost has this motherly aura around her, it's comforting, she's probably been a caretaker for several decades, "My father used to come here for prayer when he was a child. He wanted me to visit this temple."

She smiles, "The prayer wing is on the other side of the temple, if you're lost."

"No I…" how do I phrase that I'm not here to pray without being rude, "I wanted to find a quiet corner. It's my first time in an actual temple on Sanghelios, and I just wanted to spend some time walking around and appreciate the history." This temple isn't quite Notre Dame, but damn is it close.

"Not many your age are interested in history," she says, "if you don't mind sharing what do you find interesting."

I try to collect my thoughts. How do I describe it, "can I be informal with you?" I ask after several seconds of deliberation.

"Of course."

I relax a bit, "High Charity, at least in my opinion, can get very…" I pause and think of the correct way to describe it, "one dimensional," I settle on.

I look over the statue again and elaborate, "everything on High Charity is focused on the Covenant. I definitely enjoy that in its own regard, I think it's cool to see High Charity operate as a city with as many different species there are. But… I've spent 14 years of my life there, I want to see what else there is."

I realize the irony that I'm complaining about spending 14 years on a mega-city despite the fact the caretaker has spent most likely several decades in the same temple. She doesn't seem to care, however.

I try to imagine what the statue in front of me would look like on High Charity but I can't make a solid picture, "There isn't space on High Charity for something like this. High Charity is too artificial for a statue like this."

She smiles, "Follow me then. I think you will enjoy this."

She gently grabs my hand and leads me further into the temple, she walks at a pace that I can easily keep up with. We reach the end of the corridor and walk into a smaller tunnel, this one with the roof only a couple of feet over my head. We squeeze by what looks to be a mother and daughter making their way through this passage and end up at a more open, yet still hidden room.

The room is awash an orange glow from some pyres burning in the corners. However, the main attraction is on the left of the room once I enter, a mural, stretching across the entire wall, probably 20-30 units[1] long. Despite the aggressive size of the mural it is focused on two Sangheili in the center. They are in some sort of duel, in the middle of an open field of white flowers. In the background there is a river curving around the field, turning it into some sort of an arena, with a mountain towering in the background, with the peak casting a shadow between the two Sangheili.

It's obvious that whatever scene the mural is depicting is ancient. They are wearing what looks to be steel armor and wielding what I think is the ancient version of the energy sword, with the lower prong bent upwards forming a hand-guard and the upper extending outwards in an almost talon like look.

"The Duel of Two Brothers," the caretaker says from next to me.

That's the only explanation I need. The Duel of Two Brothers is less of an actual historical event as much as it is a fable that every Sangheili knows. While there are many variations it generally goes that there were two brothers who were born at a time of peace. They were prodigies in their own ways and were expected to lead the Sangheili people for all time. However, as time passed they grew separate from each other as two previously allied kingdoms started to argue. Eventually the two brothers join separate kingdom, each giving their allegiance to said kingdom as both of the kingdoms break out in war.

While the length of the war varies from story to story, for some there is a war that wages for over 100 years, others say it happens immediately, eventually the two brothers decide to meet up and face each other, representing their home, to decide the fate of the war.

I'll spare the dramatics of the fight, but it ends with both brothers dying, each one happy to get the chance to spend their last moments with each other again. Both kingdoms seeing the event decide to end the war, realizing how it is splitting the Sangheili people.

Did it actually happen? Probably not, but god damn do Sangheili have entertaining fables. As a kid I saw too many cheap vids based off this story, often times made my a san'shyuum who didn't even know the fable, but I still couldn't help but enjoy it.

I probably spent a couple minutes looking at each exact detail in the mural. To the animals in the background barely larger than my finger, to each curve on each cloud in the sky. There's a definite age to it, in a way that is impossible to recreate. The way the paint peels and chips in the dry desert air or the odd texture the ground has due to the limitations of paint at the time.

My pocket terminal chimes and I receive a message from my father asking where I am.

I turn to the caretaker and say, "I need to go, my father is asking where I've wandered off to," she nods, and I take the second to turn back and look at the mural again, "thanks for showing me this. I… I really liked it."

She smiles, and asks, "before you leave what's your name?"

"Vol 'Zotanee," I answer, slightly confused.

She smiles, and repeats, "Vol 'Zotanee. I will remember the name. I think you're bound for greatness."

I let out a large smile and stammer for a second. Eventually I gain control of my voice again and let out an earnest, "thanks."

I leave the room and head back to the entrance. The Sangheili people are a proud and brutal race, yet they do have hidden beauties. The Covenant is choking out the culture of the Sangheili, and all the other races.

Just one more reason the Covenant needs to fall.

Age 16

To be honest, I always doubted the effectiveness of the energy sword. The thought that there are some Sangheili who would resort to a sword when ranged weapons have evolved to the point of melee combat being almost completely obsolete always confused me.

I never thought of it as a very practical weapon as well. I always thought it was a bit too restricting of a melee weapon to be very effective.

And on first impressions as I practice with the weapon, I'd be inclined to agree.

Yet as I practiced more I saw the logic, albeit as flawed as I think it is. See the Sangheili love the energy sword not because it is an easy to use weapon, but because the opposite. True mastery of the weapon comes in spite of the weapon's flaws, and the difference between a master swordsman and a novice like me would be apparent at an instant.

So while my opinion of it being a poorly designed weapon stay true, I can at least afford a bit of respect to the Sangheili who devote their life to mastery of the weapon.

And it's in that note do I realize, as I practice in front of my father, that I will most likely never be a master swordsman. Almost every swing feels just a bit too uncomfortable, and every jab exposing me just a bit too much.

There's a lot to this weapon that I simply don't have the time nor the effort to learn.

And in turn I think this is one of the few times my father is legitimately disappointed. I naturally succeeded at academics, and I could use my maturity to find ways to win in sparring. I was even able to acquaint marksmanship to knowledge I had learned in my previous life. However, as it comes to swordplay, where the only judge is my father's expectations, I think he is disheartened at how alien it all seems to me and how hard it is for me to grasp some of the fundamentals.

So as I finish my demonstration for the day, rounding out the end with a sweep into stab, the silent reaction from my father told more about his thoughts than any words could.

I hold the end of the form, my muscles painfully burning, until he finally speaks, "that's enough. We are done for the day."

I nod and click the energy sword off, handing the hilt to him carefully. He grabs it and holsters it on his belt. I turn to face my brother who stands in the next room over, having watched me train.

When it comes to swordsmanship he is a prodigy, and he knows it. He too judges me silently from the other room.

My father checks the time yet again and says to me, "clean up. We'll have dinner afterwards."

I give a formal bow to end out the training session and head to the bathroom at the back of the house. I take a quick shower, dry myself off, put on some clean clothes and come back out to the communal area of the house.

As I enter the kitchen I see a couple of dishes ready to be served. I pick them up, bring them to the table, and grab accompanying plates and utensils, placing them down as I have done hundreds of times before.

I sit down in my chair and wait for my father and brother to return from whatever they are doing.

After a couple silent minutes, the door to my father's room opens up and both he and my brother walk out to the table. They sit down and orient themselves to where the food is located. My father asks me, "do you want to lead prayer tonight?"

It's less of a question and more of a demand. While he doesn't quite understand the true nature of my feelings towards the Covenant religion he definitely knows my hesitation towards it. This is just as much a move to indoctrinate me as much as it is to actually give prayer.

And he has asked this of me enough to the point where I simply nod and say, "yes father," give myself a second to collect my thoughts and say, "blessed be the noble hierarchs who illuminate the journey for us, may they live their lives in exalt for the gifts they bestow unto us. May we find our path under their light."

It's shorter than most of the prayers given by my father and my brother, but it's enough that my father can't easily reprimand me for a lack of effort. My father nods once he realizes I'm done and starts. He picks up one of the dishes from the middle of the table and scoops some food onto his plate. My brother goes after him and me after my brother.

The artificial meat which I bring onto my plate, which I've enjoyed many times previously, doesn't bring the same joy that it used to. But I simply eat and keep my head down, letting my mind wander onto other things.

My father speaks and breaks my thought, "Vol, Taso and I were talking, and I have decided something."

I stare up at him. Dinner talks are rarely ever good if they start out like this, nonetheless I nod and say, "what is it father?"

My father hesitates for a moment, before regaining his composure and saying, "when Taso ships off a couple months from now he is going to take the family energy sword."

I stop chewing mid bite and stare at my father. Had this been a couple years ago I probably wouldn't have cared, but now that I have started training and heard all about the traditions, I can't help but feel immediate betrayal.

Tradition wise, there's nothing off about this, normally the sword would be handed off to the eldest child when the patriarch deems it appropriate, but it doesn't change the meaning.

My father is admitting to me, right here and now, that he believes my brother is a far better swordsman than I am, and that he is entrusting that part of the family history to my brother and not me. As much as I would like to say I don't care, after years upon years of being drilled about Sangheili customs it hurts more than it should.

"I…" I hesitate, "I understand."

I take another bite of the meat in front of me. It's tasteless and disgusting. I force myself to swallow the bite.

My father continues, "I will requisition another energy sword for you to train with. It will become yours when you leave to join the Covenant."

I sneak a glance at my brother. He watches the discussion indifferently as if we were just talking about the weather. He meets my gaze and I look away and pretend I wasn't just watching him.

"The sword will become a part of you and your story," my father says, "it will be as much a book of stories as a weapon."

I nod and try to go in for another bite. I cut off another peace of the vat grown meat and stab it with a single pronged, spear like, fork. At this point it seems revolting to even try to eat it.

My father notices and demands, "is there something you would like to say?"

I put the fork down. His thinly veiled dare for me to question his authority hanging over me like the weight of an entire ocean. I look up and simply reply in a monotone voice, "sorry. I'm full," I stand up, dump the rest of the food down the plasma incinerator and continue, "I'm going to head to sleep early today, I need the rest for sparring practice tomorrow."

Just like my father's question, my brother and father immediately see through my façade but don't say anything about it. That is probably the most disrespect I can get away with in a day, and because the only real harm done is me not finishing a third of a meal, the default Sangheili response is to let me figure it out on my own.

I put the plate in the washer, turn back to my father, say, "thank you for the food father," and walk back to my room. As I turn around the corner to my room I can hear the faint clinking of food as they continue eating.

I walk in my room and see the window. Unlike all the previous times where the stars were comforting, this time they are insulting me, daring me to defy the expectations put upon me and explore the stars on my own.

I turn off the screen and lie on my bed. Without the 'window' on the room suddenly feels a lot more claustrophobic.

Despite the fact that I keep telling myself I shouldn't care, I still can't help but feel betrayed.

There's a humming behind me as the door to my room opens. I turn to face the other direction as my father walks into the room, I stand up and face him, he motions for me to sit back down as he grabs my desk chair and wheels that over next to the bed. I push my anger to the side and try to give a neutral expression.

He sits in the chair, faces me and says, "while I understand that you are unhappy I need you to understand that I have my reasons. I want to support both you and your brother in any way possible, and I can't always make you both happy."

I mentally correct him, he wants to support us in what he wants, not what we want.

He continues, softer this time, "I apologize if I offended you. You never seemed that interested in swordsmanship, so I thought you wouldn't think you would mind that much."

I pause now partially understanding his reasoning, "Father… I was never disinterested in swordsmanship, I recognize my lack of effort put in learning, but just because I am not as good as my brother it doesn't mean I am not interested."

"I-," he pauses and regains his composure, "I'm sorry. You're mother was always better with younglings than I was."

The mention of my mother causes me to stop. He rarely ever mentioned my mother, I could get the impression that he was seriously hurt when she left, and that he probably was still in love.

I look at him hesitantly, "father can I ask you an honest question?"

He pauses, my interactions with him generally were one-sided at best, I don't think he expected me to say much here, "yes, of course."

My breath hitches as I go to ask the question, I swallow and try again, "why did mother leave after I was born?"

He slumps a bit, "if you're asking if you're responsible, you're not. Truth be told," he pauses, rubbing the back of his neck, "I honestly don't know why she left. She was the one that wanted to have children in the first place. Leading up to your birth she seemed to get more distant. I was more naive back then, and didn't realize how much of a problem it was until it reached its boiling point."

He looks me in the eye and gives a happy yet pained smile, "every so often she messages me asking how you're doing. It was always difficult for her to show affection, but I want you to know that she does care about you."

I am left with more questions than before, "If it was her idea to have kids, why did she leave after I was born?" I respond.

He frowns, "again I don't know. I suspect that if we never had children she would have left me far sooner." There's a way he's saying it, a deep regret partially at his own fault.

He looks distant for a second as if remembering an old memory. He blinks and eventually continues, "there's a lot I wish I could undo in my life, and even more I wish I could do better."

He gives a bleak smile, "I don't know if this makes it up for you, but I will do better as a father in any way I can."

This time I'm the one speechless. I recall a memory of my past human life, the realization when my parents got divorced that they were in fact not the immaculate god beings I thought of them, and instead humans.

Staring at my father I come upon the same realization. The apathy and distance he held himself was not due to pride, but instead confusion. For a second I see him not as the ex-Sangheili soldier that he is, but a troubled father. And it's so painfully human.

"Be careful there kid," Kurc says, handing me the last tool out of the toolbox. I stare through the purple hue of the containment shield, and slowly push the water like surface of the shield letting the tool through slowly. I reach my hands into the armored gloves which allowed me to interact with whatever is inside.

Inside the containment shield sits an undetonated plasma grenade. Most of the outer, and even inner layer has been peeled back, exposing part of the malfunctioning core. I grab the tool I inserted as carefully as I can with a giant gloved hand, and using my other hand to hold the plasma grenade in place, peel back the last purple covering. I squint immediately as the superheated plasma core of the grenade sits in magnetic statis, sending out a blinding light.

Grabbing the tongs which I left on the side I carefully grab the core and lower it into the cooling fluid. The surface of the liquid instantly vaporizes and fills the containment shield with a gray steam. I pull my hands out of the gloves and Kurc claps me on the back and says, "well done."

I relax in the chair and let my muscles rest, not realizing how tense I've been for the past half an hour.

"In about 10 minutes the plasma should be inert," Kurc says, "at that point we'll undo the containment shield and insert the new core for the plasma grenade."

He gives me a daring grin, "you think you're in the mood to deal with more superheated plasma?"

"This one is gonna be stable, right?" I ask. He gives a nod in affirmation, "then I don't see why not," talking suddenly makes me realize how thirsty I am, "but I'm gonna grab some water before that," I say standing up.

I walk up to the front desk and reach under where I know Kurc stores his lunch and some water. I grab one of the bottles and head back to the other room where Kurc is waiting for me, he smiles, "and the prodigal student returns!" he exclaims.

I roll my eyes at him calling me the 'prodigal student', "haha," I deadpan, "it's almost like you've been training me to do this for the past month."

He shrugs, "most don't know how a plasma grenade works beyond which button you need to press to prime it. Being able to defuse a malfunctioning plasma grenade is an entirely different matter."

"Most people haven't been dealing with weapons like I have," I return, "doing this was nothing more than an exam."

He waves a hand, "bah, here I am trying to give you compliments and you're too stubborn to accept them. You've come a long way since I first met you, whether you like to admit it or not."

I blink, I have known him for quite a while, longer than I have really internalized. I can still remember when I would sit in the corner of the room and dismantle junk all day.

Speaking of, "before I forget," I speak up, "I finally decided to do something with this old thing," I grab into my pocket and pull out the plasma pistol battery from all those years ago, "I had enough of this old thing lying around doing nothing, and I wanted to give you a gift, but there's nothing I can purchase that you want that you don't already have, so I decided to make this into a little trinket."

I had slightly modified it to be encased in another thicker, safer shell that makes it so even if the battery did melt down it would be relatively harmless, but through the shell the dim green glow still emits. On the top of the shell I wrote a little thank you note reading, 'Thanks for teaching me throughout the years, I don't know what I would have done otherwise if I didn't have a crazy San'Shyuum teacher.' - Vol 'Zotan

I hand it to him, he reads the inscription and lets out a bark of laughter, playfully replying with, "I used to be normal before I met you. Teaching you took what little sanity I had left."

I let out an amused grin and he playfully rolls his eyes. "Thanks though kid," he says, "teaching you has been a pleasure, I'll miss you when you head out."

"Hey, I still got 3 years," I exclaim, "don't act as if I'm leaving tomorrow."

He looks at me, "kid, when you get my age 3 years might as well be tomorrow."

He looks at the containment shield, the gaseous vapors of the cooling liquid have settled allowing us to see the contents inside, "you know what's not going to wait for tomorrow, that plasma grenade," he says, "we can chit chat later once we're done with this job, until then I'll have to be your crazy San'Shyuum teacher again."

Dock 7, The Ordained Landing, Covenant Holy City: High Charity, 02/23/2522

Age 16

I remember when I was a human and watched my older sister go off to college. I was younger than I was now, but I still remember the feelings vividly. Happiness for her and her future, yet dread of the impending thought of that coming future. To me that was the first real taste of loss, someone who I care about leaving, with the knowledge that I'm going to spend less and less time with them. It taught me that things were going to change whether I liked it or not. The death of the present giving birth to an uncertain future.

I can feel those emotions from another me, all those years ago so vividly, like it happened just a day ago. That complex mix of dread and joy that I so rarely ever feel. So as I watch my blue armor clad brother leave in the same manner, I realize I don't feel no joy, only fear.

I've spent the last 16 years of my life counting down the days until 2525, the day the Human Covenant War starts. And watching him walk away, joyous at the opportunity to join the cult he was indoctrinated into, I feel the weight of a war that hasn't even started yet bearing down upon me.

At some point he is most likely going to fight humans. At that point that either means he'll kill humans I feel sworn to protect, or he'll die himself. Both ideas leave a bad taste in my mouth. As much as he may still be a stranger to me he still is my brother.

If I squint I can almost imagine him as one of the nameless blue Sangheili back when I played the Halo games. The Covenant is nothing more than a death march, for its own troops and humans.

My brother walks up to me, at first glance he seems apathetic, but I can see the whirlwind of emotions he is concealing. I give a fake smile and say, "congratulations."

The hurt on his face makes me wish I didn't say that. My one word goodbye beautifully sums up our relationship so well. A single word, said in place of actual emotions because I don't know what else to do.

"Vol, listen," he starts and for the first time I can see him unsure, "I don't know if you care or not, but I want to admit that I didn't do my duty when it comes to being an older brother."

His sudden admission surprises me. There's a lot I want to say, but nothing feels appropriate. I open my mouth to respond but all I can get out is, "I, uh…"

"I don't ask that you understand," Taso continues, "I only ask that you listen, and give me a chance."

I close my mouth and nod, "I'll listen," part of me still defaults to the idea that his is some sort of trick.

"As an older brother I had the duty to guide you, and at the same time be support if needed. In my mind I failed in both of those regards."

I can tell he's uncomfortable. He doesn't know what to say and defaults to the same honor he loves so much. It sounds so much like him… so much like my dad. His vision of his own fault lies in duty, not actul love.

My eyes narrow, I stare past my brother and at my father. Taso had just finished his goodbye talk with my father, who at least has the decency to stay out of hearing range and facing the other direction. He knows Taso is trying to have a heart-to-heart conversation, "did father have you do this?" I demand.

He pauses for a second, "I… I. Yes he asked that I do this," he responds, "but regardless of what he asks of me, I am doing this of my own will."

I frown, and interrupt him, if this were any other time he would immediately silence me and reprimand me for speaking out of turn, but this is the one and probably only time where he doesn't, "hold up. See this is what I am hearing."

He tries to speak but I interrupt him again, "I think it is only fair that I get to speak my opinion here."

I sigh and collect my thoughts, "while I appreciate the gesture I want you to see this from my side. All my memories with you are I never felt like I could do anything, because I was just afraid of what you'd say. To you I was never good enough and apparently I was always a danger to the family honor. Whether or not you cared back then, you suddenly think all of that can change as you're leaving because father seems to encourage this and you want to have a better relationship with me."

I continue before he can say anything, "I don't know if you simply didn't know the torment you caused me, or didn't care. But the idea that you can undo years of making me feel like a stranger in my own home is insulting."

There's a moment where I see anger flash over his face and I wonder if I should have kept my opinions to myself. As much as I want to have a healthy relationship with him I can't just ignore the past 16 years of my life with him. It will never be genuine.

Right at the point I'm seriously considering apologizing my brother's face softens and he avoids my gaze and looks at the ground, "I'm sorry."

I frown, and respond, "I shouldn't have said it like that," I pause and mentally facepalm, why do I have to be so stupid sometimes. I'm having the first conversation with my brother, and all I do is insult him.

Wait. For the first time in this life I realize I'm having an actual conversation with my brother, "I don't want it to sound like I despise you. I do want to have an improved relationship with you, but…"

I trail off, thinking about how I want to phrase my next sentence, "to me communication is a two-way door, and for my entire life it has felt like a one-way door with you. The reason I want you to understand my side is because even when you were apologizing it felt like I had to simply agree with you because you are my older brother, and both you and father want it. Not because I had a say in it."

I finish off my point, "I don't care what tradition says. If you want to try to redo our relationship I need you to understand that it needs to be between us as 2 individuals, not as older and younger brothers."

There's a long moment of understanding between each other. Something that, despite being out in public, makes me feel more at home than I have in a while. After a pregnant silence he finally responds, "I owe you an explanation."

He starts, "when mother left after you were born, I unjustly blamed you for that. I knew that I had no reason to, but I was too foolish to rectify my errors. I refused to acknowledge my faults and instead placed them upon you."

Taso looks at me, "it took me until now to realize that I should have tried harder. I want to make an attempt to make it up to you, and be the brother I should have been."

He holds his hand out for me to shake, eyes pleading me to accept. Despite my slight anger at how long it took my family to try to be… well a family, I barely hesitate to grab his hand. "I should have made a better attempt as well," I admit, "I never attempted to talk to you, I never treated you like a brother and instead a stranger."

It's painfully obvious at points how poorly the Sangheili are at dealing with emotions. Therapists don't exist for Sangheili, not for a lack of necessity, but due to the fact that it is dishonorable to them.

Despite how much my brother may try to hide it, it's obvious how uncomfortable he is. What is a meaningful and heartfelt conversation to me is confusing and alien to him.

I smile and say, "I don't want to start things over, let's just agree from here on out that we will both put in a larger attempt to communicate."

He pushes out a smile through his emotions, "I agree."

We let go of each others hand and we are brought back to the realization that he is heading off to join the Covenant. My brother looks down for a second, and says "I don't want to insult you, but I need to leave now."

"I understand," I reply. Taso nods and turns back to my father who is standing next to the loading ramp, just as he is about to exit earshot I shout, "one last thing Taso," he turns back to face me, "goodbye."

He smiles, this time genuine and waves. He heads over to my father and there's a brief conversation between them which I guess to be my brother telling my father we successfully made amends.

They say their goodbyes and Taso heads to the ramp, he turns around just as he reaches the inside of the phantom, looks at me, gives me a smile and waves goodbye. I wave back.

He turns back, hesitates for a moment and walks up the ramp and out of sight. The knot in my stomach clenches, is this going to be the last time I ever see him in person? Did he just march to his own death?

Age 19

My voice hitches in my throat as I mentally repeat what I just heard from Kurc. I feel like throwing up, "could you say that again?" I ask.

Kurc doesn't even look up from his desk, instead continuing to work on the plasma rifle, "yeah," he repeats, "I heard from a friend that a new species was discovered. Humans I think they call themselves. Apparently first contact went poorly. Apparently there should be an official declaration saying we made first contact soon."

I break out into a cold sweat, and suddenly find it hard to breathe. Kurc must have noticed something as he turns around and immediately frowns, "are you okay there kid? You look sick."

I take a deep breath which manages to calm my heartrate to the point where I can feel like I can function again, "so the Covenant is going to war?" I ask.

He pauses, "is that what you are worried about? I mean I guess yeah the Covenant is technically going to war with these 'humans', but I experienced this once already before you were born with the Jiralhanae. Nothing that bad is probably going to happen, and the situation will probably be resolved by the end of the year."

So he doesn't know the extent of what's going to happen. At least not yet. I gather my thoughts and do my best to speak, "sorry. I'm gonna head back for the day."

I watch Kurc look over me and realize how uncomfortable I am, he can tell something is wrong. He responds in a soft voice, "I understand. Take the time you need."

I grab my bag with shaking hands and carefully make my way out the door to the shop. As soon as the door closes behind me I break out into a full sprint back to home. I pass by several passersby who give me odd looks but I ignore them. There's a more pressing matter than the opinions of strangers.

I eventually reach the front door to my home after what feels to be an eternity. I almost bump into the door as I try to enter before the door has a chance to fully recede. The house is empty, my father is still at work.

Good I don't want him to see me like this.

I stumble my way over to the kitchen and find myself staring over the sink. I feel like I am about to vomit, but as much as I dry heave nothing comes out. My chest aches with a deep pain as if I'm being stabbed.

I shake my head and try to clear my thoughts, I grab a glass of water and chug the entire thing down in less than a couple of seconds, it seems to alleviate the discomfort, if just a bit.

Think. Think. Think. What do I need to do? What can I do?

I'm supposed to join the Covenant soon. I never put much thought to the idea that I would join the Covenant around the time the Human-Covenant War would start. I'm going to be fighting humans once I join. Oh fuck.

Fuck.

That means, so is Taso.

I pull out my pocket terminal and with shaky hands draw up a new message. I shakily start writing.

Taso,

I know I just sent a message to you, but this is important. I ask that you listen to what I have to say, and please trust me. First contact just happened with a new species, and soon an all out war is about to happen. This war is going to last for a while, and a lot of people are going to die. I ask that you don't be a hero, don't listen to what honor tells you. Stay alive. Even if you don't value your own life, I ask that you at least do this for me.

A lot is going to change soon, don't die for someone who doesn't care about you.

Your caring brother,

Vol

I reread the message before I send it. I debate adding a part where I ask him to spare humans, but I know he won't listen to that. And if I do write that and it somehow gets discovered… that's borderline heresy on both our parts.

I send the message before I can stop myself and go into my room and lie on the bed. I feel like I'm sick, like my body is about to fall apart.

My terminal chimes and I check it, trying to distract my mind from what's at hand, wondering if somehow my brother has already responded to the message. It's not my brother, but a message sent to everybody in the Covenant, from the newly ascended High Prophets of Truth, Mercy and Regret.

There's a video attached from the official proclamation. I barely even register their voices and instead focus on their faces.

For a second everything is clear. Everything revolves around the 3 prophets. They are the cause of the genocide that is about to happen.

They will die. I will be sure of it.

[1] - 1 unit ~= 1 foot

So this chapter kind of wrote itself.

To be honest I got a much larger response than I expected that I would get from the first chapter. Also I feel like the first chapters of a story are always the hardest, I already had to deal with a lot less writer's block this chapter.

I have one self-criticism that I feel there's an overabundance of overly emotional moments in this chapter, but I think it is something I will keep as I would rather have few emotional moments than a lot of scenes where little happens.

See y'all next time.