Prologue Continued...

It was only a half moon tonight, but the stars were exceptionally brilliant. Normally Ari was not afraid of the dark; however, she had always been surrounded by family and others. This is the first time she was ever by herself--and frankly, she did not like the feeling. It hadn't been too hard to get lost... in fact, several turns through narrow alleys did the trick, and now the young chimpanzee was confused. It's been a half an hour already, yet the question as to which direction is home remains unanswered.

It wasn't before long when she came upon a stone barrier that stretched on for miles. Two alert ape guards were posted at the gates where the main entrance was, stoically keeping watch upon their horses. Ari was immediately fascinated. There were two entrances to Ape City, and this was the one she hasn't seen yet. Her father always told her no sensible ape child ever went beyond this border, nor would they want to. What could possibly be outside, then? she couldn't help but wonder. Obviously it was time to find out.

Hiding behind a large tree she picked up a rock underneath her foot and threw it as far as possible away from her. The guards, sensing trouble, rode toward the noise, where the pebble Ari threw landed in a bush.

Nobody at the gates now--it was the chance to make a move...

On all fours, Ari hurried toward the entrance.

Mirem, a young human female, stared wistfully into the fire that she had made for herself. Strangled locks of dark brown hair fluttered before the enormous eyes that flickered with the flames as the cooling wind blew against her face. She remembered nights like this. She remembered how her entire family would gather in a circle around the fire on summer evenings, to share food and stories. She remembered the nightly hunts, where the men of the tribe, including her father and older brother, would celebrate before setting out for quarry. She remembered how her mother would sing so sweetly to her when she was a child, no taller than a young sapling. How the images of her loved ones flashed so vividly in her mind now... how she longed to fight with her older brother again, to be kissed by her mother and held by her father...

But no--they were all dead. Memories were all she had left of them. That, and her father's necklace made from the abalone shells along the beach they once lived near.

She always wore it, since the day she took it from his dull and lifeless body lying upon the jungle grounds. Mangled by apes so it seemed. The shaman had examined the corpse and concluded, by the fracture in the spinal chord, that no human hands could have done so much damage. To make matters worse, Mother and Damek, who had both been looking for fruits to harvest, had been missing that day, as well. Only she and her little brother, Kip, remained with the tribe.

It turned out that the slave hunters had caught them all, but only Father put up a fight, unsuccessfully, in order to save the family. The outcome had not been to his advantage.

Taking a straw basket into her arms, Mirem looked about the forest cautiously, in case there were predators lurking about. Or worse, apes. She sniffed the air a few times, trying to catch any dangerous scents from the wind. When her senses reassured her safety, she proceeded in collecting berries for tomorrow's meal. Her tribe had warned her about going out alone beyond the borders of their land, nevermind in the middle of the night, that the "beasts" would be out to get her. She would never see her people again, the elders had said.

But the girl didn't care - her tribe, whom she now considered the only family she has, were hungry tonight. No, starving. Ever since the apes had taken over and gradually expanded into their territory, the food supply had been diminishing rapidly over the years. Her species had been hunted out, and for what reason? Who knew. There were only a few dozen left, in a clan that use to flourish in the hundreds, and so little space for them to live. She had to gather food.

Her basket had been only half full when she heard a scuffling noise in the background. Mirem, with the reflexes of a wildcat, spun around and grabbed the hilt of her weapon, a small flint knife. She warily scanned her surroundings, prepared to attack anything that moved. When nothing stirred for the next minute, she stepped back in confusion. Perhaps she had been imagining things?

Snap!

Next to her, the branch of an old tree broke and fell into the lake -- along with its occupant. A small creature gave a pathetic yelp as it -or she?- fell into the lake. It was too dark to see what or who it was - Mirem could only stare in amazement.

"Help!" cried the voice. After a second, she finally saw a head and two arms thrashing wildly about in the cold water. Apparently, it was a young female... chimp?

Instincts told the human girl to run towards the other direction as fast as possible. After all, what if there had been other apes with her? If she continues crying like this, then no doubt they would soon arrive. Mirem's life was in danger.

Grabbing her basket of berries, she ran as fast as she could. But the little ape's voice still followed and carried into the night.

"I can't swi--!" A gargled pause, as if she went under water. "Please! Help!" The young ape was apparently in serious trouble, and she was the only one closest to save her.

Mirem stopped in her tracks and hesitantly looked back. It was now deafeningly quiet. From what she could see from the moon's reflection upon the water, there were only ripples in the lake. The little ape was no longer visible.

Whether it was her conscience or plain stupidity that made her run back, she did not know. Mirem found herself running towards the lake again where the drowning chimpanzee had been. With a deep breath, she dived into the lake and swam blindly into the dark waters - how cold it was! Groping about, she struggled to find some sign of life, while her small lungs were soon on fire from the lack of oxygen. Luckily, it wasn't long before she felt a hairy hand brush against her own smooth skin. Grabbing it, she quickly swam towards the dim moonlight.

The last thing she remembered was the clumsy slip of her hand as she missed a branch while climbing. Then coldness. And darkness.

Ari moaned and stirred. What happened? The young ape opened her eyes and felt something slimy on her arms - was she covered with seaweed? When she looked up, everything made sense again.

A young human girl with dark hair and a thin frame stared back at her with the same intensity and wariness. A covering, perhaps a cloak of some sort, was wrapped around her shoulders. It was awfully dark; there wasn't anything else much extinguishable about this creature except for the beautiful shell necklace that she wore.

Ari sat up. "You--you saved me?"

Apparently startled, the human jumped back and flashed her weapon in an instant. But it was in a defensive position, rather than threatening. Ari kept talking, "Can you understand my words, human?"

The blade continued to reside in her hands, although the level in which she was holding it was noticeably lowered. A quiet answer: "Yes."

"Why?" When no reply came this time, merely a cautious and direct stare, Ari repeated herself. "Why did you rescue me?"

A moment passed between them. In the meanwhile, the winds grew stronger and blew against the trees, causing them to sway very dramatically. A storm was imminent. Then, the girl seemed like she mouthed the answer. "I don't know."

"Mirem!"

Suddenly, from the corner of her eyes, three wild looking humans appeared before them both. They were all tall, appearing to be warriors from some sort of tribe. And they had weapons. Very sharp looking weapons. One of them looked at Ari with unmistaken hatred. "An ape!"

"No!" the human girl cried as he reached for his spear. "Please!"

At that very moment, in a near twist and turn of fate, a very familiar roar was heard in the background, sending all four humans scattering into the depths of the forest. Ari looked up and soon found herself face to face with one of her father's guards.

"Are you all right?"

Ari could only nod dumbly.

"Come. Your father is worried, as are his friends."

Great.

Ari looked on as the the two senators and commander vehemently denounced the humans who, in their minds, nearly "abducted the poor little girl and killed her." The commander's student, though not uttering a word as a sign of respect, looked on with much interest as his superiors prattled on. For the first time ever Ari was looking at the young ape soldier up close - though he did not seem to notice her. Her father mentioned him several times before with high praises, and she could see why. From what she heard, he was a brilliant student who excelled in the ape army--in fact, rumors were that another year would be all it takes for him to become promoted in the army. It was no surprise, after all; all his ancestors were known to be leaders, whether in politics or the military. His father had been the former governor of the city, and it is a known fact to nearly everyone that his respectable lineage dates thousands of years back to the first ape, Semos, the most holy figure in simian history.

Ari felt herself flush in front of the soldier--though she normally kept her mind off males and onto her studies, she was somehow attracted to him. And strangely enough it seemed natural, even though he was a bit older. From what she can speculate, he was probably seven or eight years her senior. She heard chatter from her female classmates about the newest addition to the army once in a while, how their fathers mentioned he would rise up to become a powerful figure in society. There was little doubt, in her mind, that it would happen.

Once again she studied his face.

Though he had a good built, his facial features did not impress her in the slightest bit. It had nothing to do with the appearance, but rather the amount of warmth in his expression... or lack thereof. His eyes seemed to be devoid of any emotional depth, and was rather cold and hard. He certainly had the poise of a leader, but with a face of stone.

"We should build stronger barriers between the city and the outside to ensure that this event will not occur again! There are too many children at risk," the old commander declared.

"Perhaps we should post more guards at the gates as well..."

This was getting ridiculous, Ari finally decided. She was all right now, isn't that all that mattered? If she mentioned her human friend, Mirem, maybe the tension in the room would ease a little bit...

"What is your opinion, Thade?" Commander Altair asked.

Everyone grew quiet and all attention turned to the chimp standing in the corner seemingly apart from everyone else in the room. As if to dramatize the moment, he looked around the room, paused for a few seconds before giving his opinion.

"With all due respect, sirs, my father always told me no stone wall will ever protect the city from the savage beings. Effective action should be taken swiftly at any cost."

Somehow, that statement chilled Ari right to the bones. It hadn't just been the way he (or his father?) worded it, but the way he said it... The others had been uncomfortable as well, for the room suddenly turned even more silent than before, if possible.

Her father was the first to move. "Easier said than done, my boy..."

"That is right," Senator Kateb agreed. "There are simply too many of them, and they don't reside just in Ape City, as well. How can we solve the human problem when they outnumber us by a large margin?"

The gorilla commander snorted contempuously, glaring at the senators who suddenly looked flustered. "Surely you are not suggesting we do nothing about them?"

"Well... something will be done, I suppose..."

"The sooner the better. Humanity is a disease which must be eradicated. Your daughter will continue to be at risk if we let them run rampant on our soil."

Ari, long forgotten in her little corner of the room, finally spoke up, "But not all humans are bad! One of them saved me from drowning in the lake by the marsh." Now the attention was turned toward the child ape, whose large eyes were ready to challenge anyone who was willing to argue. While her father looked startled at this revelation, the commander seemed as if he was ready to burst out laughing at her assertion about not all humans being bad. Thade and Kateb, in the meanwhile, stared at the girl as if she grew another head.

"A human saving an ape? Hardly credible," Kateb mouthed.

"Perhaps you were lucky that a strong wind current blew you to shore while you were unconscious," Altair, who wore an amused smile, offered.

Ari shook her head. "No, I wasn't unconscious. It was a human that saved me, a human girl with the name of Mirem."

"So, this human has a name, eh?" the gorilla laughed. "Quite ridiculous for such uncivilized vermin. I suppose they will eventually teach us proper mannerisms and behavior."

Everyone laughed at the comment except for Sandar's daughter and Thade, who continued to wear a stony expression. Ari sighed. Why were they being so unreasonable? Sometimes one had to wonder who acted like the mature ape and who acted like the juvenile. No one ever took her seriously. Maybe her father would understand? "Papa..." she pleaded.

But Sandar didn't seem to alleviate her peace of mind--all he did was send a single glare that told her she should not say any further. "It is getting late," he said. "We will finish this another night--my daughter is safe and that is all that matters for now."

"But--"

"Ari, go to sleep. I will talk with you in the morning."

Ari, frustrated and without saying another word, stormed off to her quarters. There was a brief pause as glances were thrown about the room.

"Your daughter is quite... naive in her view of life," Kateb curiously commented.

"I'm afraid so," Sandar sighed. He trotted across the room and lit another hanging lantern. "But I don't understand... She had always been afraid of humans. I don't know why she would start defending them now..."

"She will see the truth, eventually, for what those humans are really worth."

From that point on, no one uttered a sound. Sandar, with his hands behind his back, moved under the large straw canopy covering the balcony and stood staring outside in a contemplative manner. The commander, Thade, and Kateb all looked at the solemn figure and at each other. Altair simply shook his head.

In another part of the house, Ari stood staring outside as well, pondering. Her brows furrowed in a sign of agitation. She couldn't help but wonder: why must the grown-ups have such strong feelings against the humans? And why did her father tell her all those untrue stories about humans kidnapping ape children? For all her life, she always feared humans and never bothered to care about their treatment by ape society. Whenever she saw a human being punished by their master, she always thought that, whatever the crime may be, they deserved it.

Now, after Mirem saving her and watching her father, along with his colleagues, verbally display their hatred of mankind, she started to think otherwise. Her mother was right: not everyone is so different from one another.