A/N: It's been a while... I took too long to write. For that I'm sorry.
I want to thank Hellacre for helping me. I have no words to say how much I appreciated the correction of my mistakes in both this chapter and the previous one.
Oh, I need to apologize for rewriting chapter 2. There are not too many changes, just a few things I thought would be better this way.
Hope you like ^^
Chapter III
The gray haired woman opened her eyes with the help of her fingers to clean rheum off of her eyelashes. A reverberating scream was responsible for her sudden awake, so she looked around, used to the dim light coming from a hole on the ceiling, searching for her daughter. She had not come back to the cage; Granny rolled her eyes, irritated.
The second call was louder and invaded the cavern even further through the air vents that were also used to summon prisoners to the arena, guaranteeing that they all would listen to one's last call.
She swore to get up and languidly walk three feet, reaching the iron door with her stolen whip already on one hand. Granny would not let her opportunity flee with the insolent child. She had planned to raise the brat to become the mightiest warrior of Apokolips, knowing how promising her powers were, but, since Apokolips downfall, she had to rethink her tactics.
Darkseid was dead, Granny was not. She had no problem in changing sides.
For seven years she endured the torturing warmth and darkness of that cell, escaping sometimes to look for a chance out of the underground. Being one of Darkseid's most trusted employees, the likelihood of leaving that hell was very scarce. But the child had potential and with some lessons would be the perfect warrior and her passport to the outside. Granny made sure to fill the empty headed girl with her desires and threatened her in every imaginable way so Rubbish would reach the arena to impress the Lord.
Zciaran now knew her; that was a beginning.
Granny walked around with firm legs now, her daily exercises were necessary to keep herself far from all diseases that sentenced other prisoners to a long and painful death.
"Rubbish!" Her voice filled the main chamber and waked the four armed woman first. Granny Goodness made good use of her knout and wrapped the tip around Maila's neck, silencing her immediately.
Diana opened her eyes slowly, feeling them heavy and swollen, the faint light seemed too bright, causing a keen and annoying pain in them. Four muscled arms protected her in a tight hug and she found it so good that she had to move fast and far from that kind of comfort. According with her mother, sentiments softened a heart and a warrior could not have a weak heart to overpower the brain.
Crying was for yesterday, now she had to go meet the Lord.
"You stupid brat, get up now!" Her passport would achieve nothing if it stayed inside the cavern. Rubbish needed to go upstairs to make the Lord proud and happy after successful trainings with the treacherous bitch that sided with him. Trainings Diana avoided like the plague in the past years, hand to hand combat she could handle, but given a weapon she'd be useless.
Granny herself would have to do her magic, perfecting the Fury's lessons underground with the help of her orphans of Apokolips that were now prisoners of Haecatombè and her personal slaves still. Of course, the Lord new nothing about how she fled from her cage and would never know she walked outside of it until her dear daughter came to the underworld bearing his word of freedom.
"You've been called, Rubbish. Upstairs. Now!" She pulled Diana's hair to get her up faster. Maila tried to intervene, but Granny tightened her hold on the knout, suffocating her. The giant was strong, but not enough to stop Granny Goodness. "You take me outta here, you hear me?" Granny screeched, gritting teeth. "I tolerated you and this place for far too long. Zciaran put me here and you will take me out." She waited for an answer. "What?!"
"Yes, mother."
With that, Diana sprinted to far away from both women. Tears of hatred threatened to fall, but she dried them away harshly. She definitely had to learn how to control that, being strong then fall into tears showed she wasn't properly in charge of her emotions. Weakness didn't help. She cried everything the night before, today and the days after were another story.
She really wanted out.
Outside of the arena, everything resembled Apokolips in its dark and stern way. But the destruction showed how much Haecatombè lost on its last battle, when Zciaran lost Darkseid's remaining army, the few that, in order to survive, betrayed the Dark Lord allying with the new failed dictator. Some soldiers still guarded the city using armor wrought on Apokolips due to the lack of resources.
Diana never looked around; she didn't need to look to know everyone stared at her as if she were an aberration. Not so different from being trash or rubbish, she shrugged. Days ago she would not fear anyone, she'd confront people underground with a smug grin on her face, laughing somberly alongside the giant kids. Like her mother said, she was a brat. Why dread those people now that she had them scared? Whatever Maila told her about being good and nice, she didn't want to remember; mourning was not for her. Yesterday she let the Lowlies punish her, because she did feel guilty, but she'd die if that feeling stayed much longer. And, if that happened, somehow she thought her mother would follow wherever she went just to kill her over again.
Being outside was where she was taught to be, she wanted to stay there for a better life.
The guard made Diana cross a scalding bridge bare footed, holding her to earth with both hands on her shoulders. How could this planet be hotter than Apokolips? The dirt on her skin made her feel sticky and smellier than before, this place was more sizzling than even the underworld. She had sweat on her forehead half-way through the long path that led to the main building, something unusual for her who never minded the weather.
The construction ahead seemed bizarre, like some kind of big black kettle above boiling oil that fell in a deep hole surrounding the great walls, similar to a cascade of lava that impeded any intruder who wanted to get to the main castle.
"Open the gate!" The guard waited, unmoving, and then held her up to place her over a motorcycle. A younger man drove for long minutes towards a strange house beside the army old quarters, where he ordered her to jump off the motorcycle.
"Go inside the laboratory."
Diana looked at him as if he was crazy. She had no manacle, no rope on her wrists, not even her broken cuffs, she could escape easily. He turned her around, tilting his head from side to side, discouraging the thoughts he knew she had.
"I heard about you," he said in a low voice. Diana eyed him with distrust. "Be good, child, and maybe you'll survive here."
She remained silent. Life taught her, the hard way, how these people were not to be trusted.
"I've been a Lowly of Apokolips for too many years to count. I know what it is like to endure Granny and that whip of hers." He laughed of his own misfortune. "Don't trust the Lord, but do whatever he wants. Darkseid was bad and everyone knew what he was capable of, Zciaran seems good, but no one figured out what he's up to."
"Advice would be sold if good," Diana said, coldly, trying to go back to her old self.
She was inside the house before the man could blink.
Kal-El opened the ship door with a kick. Somewhere along Saturn and Mars he damaged the computer panel by just typing in it. His stupidity resulted in hours of annoyance, trying to solve his little problem in bringing his ship back to work. Now he knew one effect of sunlight. His incorrect descent through the atmosphere, had caused his ship to land violently in a place he could not identify.
Krypto was the first to go out. The dog just ran away, happy to leave the burnt crystal cage. Kal-El waited a little, relieved to feel his backache fade fully now directly under the Sun. His studies showed Kryptonians had denser skin than humans, they were stronger, but now he was surprised not feeling anything at all. In fact, he felt lighter and more alive, like after a good night sleep, his energy renewed.
Under the bright light, he smiled at some of the changes in his body. He actually saw through his body.
"Rao!" Kal-El looked away, freaked out, but nothing around him stayed on focus. He saw trees very close and constructions beyond them, then something in the middle, a mixture of different images all at the same time. Kal-El thought it'd be better if he closed his eyes to stop the imminent dizziness. That was when he noticed the murmuring in his ears that got louder and louder. Every sound seemed to be inside his head – sea waves, bugs, flying leaves, Krypto's bark… He tried to focus on only one, but didn't succeed easily.
Kal-El covered his ears with both hands, breathing deep while concentrating hard on the silence around him. Slowly the assault stopped. But he noticed something was not right, he didn't feel the ground under his feet.
Mumbling curses, he reunited all his courage to open his eyes. Staring down, he saw the island miles below. His eyes widened involuntarily and, as if he needed concentration to hover, Kal-El felt gravity act suddenly, pulling him down too fast for his liking.
He met the sea water head first, provoking small waves.
He emerged quickly, eyes widening at seeing the horizon, noting how endless it seemed to be. Kal-El laughed, playing with water, splashing it around as amazement possessed him. The ocean was even more beautiful than when he saw its picture. So soothing and silent; he could stay there for hours. And it was warm. Kal-El observed he could not actually feel the temperature, but somehow he knew the water was warm. Under the surface, he stared the translucent substance, trying to use his enhanced sight on its molecules. There were fishes too; he memorized the view of the ocean life below.
Kal-El swan to the shore minutes later, grinning to himself, pleased at his new found capabilities. So far, he had abilities as flight, superhuman strength, enhanced vision and hearing.
He looked around for Krypto, wondering if the dog had changed as he did, and whistled for him to come back. He now could see the trees as they really were: tall and very wide, apparently the only living things on that island, aside from arthropods. He heard Krypto's heartbeat far away, but no one else's.
"That's odd… Krypto, come back now!" he ordered, already walking further into the forest to search the dog, not minding the sand glued to his now bare feet and wet pants.
His vision showed him a build path to his right. He frowned. There were constructions on that place, but no people? Kal-El kept walking to reach the huge building he saw before.
"Ouch!" He stepped on a thorn that pierced his skin. Moments ago he fell from the sky, he didn't think that a small thorn would hurt him that easily. "Krypto! I don't like this place, come back here!"
He got to the pathway quickly as the Sun had made him fast also. At that point he stopped to hear, still trying to master that skill, but no sound came from inside the island. He moved on, not too worried about Krypto; he wanted to investigate now. Uphill stood a gazebo made of a material he read was named marble. Analyzing, he noticed that building resembled the ones belonged to ancient Greece. He remembered its history, but knew Earth had evolved in its architecture.
Majestic columns were being lifted when something happened there. Kal-El reached the last step to find another path to a city. A destructed marble city. Those once perfect buildings, dirtied by time, didn't fall yet for some mysterious reason, the few columns that stood upright held the heavy ceiling miraculously. On the ground he saw weapons – swords, spears, bows, arrows – and bones, many of them and enough to send a chill up his spine.
Something big happened there and no one survived to tell. Inscriptions on the pediment were in greek, he recognized easily, but could not read them. He eyed further, surprised to notice he could not see through the walls. Kal-El walked faster to enter the main building, curious to find out who lived there and what possibly happened to make them start what he supposed was a war.
"This belonged to royalty…" Kal-El admired the gold ornaments over intact furniture and silk floating curtains. Inside everything seemed intact. Maybe, he thought, the battles didn't reach the house.
He wandered around and found nothing interesting. Only a painting attracted his attention, there was a woman in it holding a baby, she was the queen, perhaps, because she wore a crown and her posture seemed regal enough. Intriguing… Drawings on the marble told him this island had warriors as habitants, the queen included; they were equals, she'd never let her people look that up at her; there must be paintings showing the others. Why leave only the portrait of the queen?
Without proper answers, he left then to explore the remains on the island. It was not very large, he observed before, but had many strange things for him to just walk everywhere. Walking back to the entrance, he was relieved to find Krypto. The fact that he's growling wasn't good. No sign of life could be felt still but there was something troubling the dog and he had a bad feeling about it. The Kryptonian tried again to look through the wall, but could not. So he walked warily, trying to hover, to reach the big wooden doors ahead.
Kal-El was taken aback at the sight of women positioned on the front stairs, all ready to attack.
He froze momentarily. Earthlings didn't use armors or wielded those kinds of weapons; they were primitive, but not that primitive to attack a stranger with swords and arrows.
Looking at them, he noted they resembled the warrior women he had read about. Amazons, he recalled suddenly and thought, but they shouldn't exist anymore.
Kal-El, turned and ran, holding Krypto close to him. Where did those things come from? He didn't feel life coming from them, so then what were they?
He'd find out after leaving the island. Somehow their weapons could harm him; the stinging pain on his arm where an arrow cut his skin was a proof. Kal-El reached the shore minutes ahead of the lifeless women and entered his ship to put it to work, but didn't succeed. Thinking quickly, he made a pack with his father's cape, putting necessary things inside, then left to get Krypto.
There wasn't anything he could see clearly miles ahead. The only way out of that island was flying and he needed to learn how to do that immediately.
His attempts to fly failed, giving the women time to reach the shore. They cornered him quickly, preparing to attack.
"Απαγορευμένη... Οι άνδρες απαγορεύεται!"
Kal-El only stared; their words were incomprehensible to him. An arrow missed him by a few inches. He figured out how to get airborne with a hand that didn't hold Krypto close. He knew there were ways to break through them. Using his strength was one, but he could not harm any of them for he didn't know the extent of his powers yet and could end up killing – or something like that – unwillingly.
Deep breaths and concentration maybe would make him hover again. He only hoped it would work before they killed him.
Luckily Kal-El succeeded and disappeared before the undead Amazons' eyes.
"Attack! Not like this, mean it. Aim to kill!"
Diana retreated again. Then dodged, preparing to attack. Her mentor held the sword with only one hand in order to gain equilibrium to twirl and momentum to lunge the sword on the younger's middle body. Diana noticed she made the move before, so quickly her sword parried the blow, throwing her far due to the strength used.
"You're not here for shielding," Artemis foot stomped near Diana's head on the ground. "Offensive. Do you know the meaning, Rubbish? It's been weeks and you learned nothing! Get up and fight!"
She obliged with some difficulty to rise with the armor. Diana breathed hard and felt confined inside the metal paraphernalia that was way too heavy for her to even move. Damn those cuffs. She was weak and everything seemed hard and heavy on her body, every blow hurt her skin to the point of leaving discolored bruises.
The Lord wanted her training to occur in the arena to avoid more destruction on the main city once Diana was allowed to fight without her repaired cuffs. Artemis, her mentor, took that as an opportunity to let loose her bad temper at Diana's expense.
"Lord Zciaran thinks you're different, thinks you're his finally-found conqueror of worlds. I don't. Trash like you do not grow up to be the perfect little thing just because he wants you to. So make me eat my words or else I'll end up killing you out of boredom." Artemis ignored her superior's glare and just kept screaming to the girl's face. "What I do depends on how much I hate you. And as for now, my hate is unimaginable; you waste my precious time, Rubbish! Now, change weapons and attack me!"
Diana eyed her, furious. After days bearing that attitude, she had to do something better to not stay with the madwoman much longer. Three weeks was more than enough for her to forget what happened on that same arena. Deep inside, she questioned herself about the massacre, but never let the doubts overcome her bravado.
Lord Zciaran saw her as a strong and fearless child; she wanted to keep it that way. Maybe her mother had some part in how she viewed the world; she taught Diana to never hold grudges, even if they were against her own self.
Training for fourteen hours a day kept her mind off of painful memories. Beatings had the same effect.
"Then I will do it," Diana said defiant, slowly removing her useless armor. "Someday I will be the one responsible for every sand grain put inside your mouth."
"Mean it, Rubbish!" Artemis' smile grew, showing yellow teeth and bad breath.
She left the helm for last, showing a dirty face and bald head. The scientist stayed with her on day one, studying her mutation, analyzing parameters and associating them to Earth's data. That day she left his office with absolutely no improvement to his research and nothing on her also. Clothes, lice, hair, dignity - all was left behind his closed doors. Including the little pieces she still had of herself.
"Bring it on, Artemis."
Diana picked up a staff, positioning for the new battle. Soon, Artemis ran to her with a spear, aiming her stomach.
"Every weapon is a part of your body! Use it like one of your limbs." Artemis tackled her roughly, but very firm and precise in her moves. Diana hit the ground before the fight even started. "If you don't get yourself killed first, I will make a warrior out of you."
Diana kicked Artemis hard. Even with the cuffs she had some strength to do rougher moves. But none of them skilled enough for a trained warrior like Artemis. Again she kissed the ground.
"Learn the moves and repeat them," she said annoyed. "Tackling randomly will make you lose a battle against someone better than you. If you ever fight a stronger enemy, you'll need technique to bring him down. Don't come at me aimlessly!"
Her mother didn't tolerate mistakes and she did none underground. Then why so many while confronting Artemis? Diana breathed deep. Her impatience had to be left out of the battlefield. She had to concentrate.
She got up one more time.
Nothing was like Krypton in that place; there wasn't crystal buildings or the technology used in them or the calmness of a quiet people. Constructions there were mostly covered with glasses, showing many offices downtown, modern to Earth parameters and not very different from what he saw in other cities.
Not only busy people made Metropolis look like an anthill, there were more cars in there than should be allowed. Metropolis was just too full and noisy like New York, where two days ago he was, but more welcoming in a strange way.
After his disastrous arrival on an unknown island inhabited by undead women and his attempt fly in foreign land, now, ten weeks later, Kal-El walked among earthlings, searching for something to do with his life.
Kal-El had always been very discreet. Even months ago when he got to – now he knew – Florida's shore after hours lost in the sky, finally able to fly, he found a way to walk around the city inconspicuously, wearing new clothes given by his father, until he figured out how to contact J'onn J'onnz.
J'onn had found him admiring the sea that day, alongside a sleeping Krypto.
Days later he had an identity given by J'onn, a favor done by some friend of his and some cash for settling down. The following weeks had him travelling across the world, getting to know Earth, discovering new cultures, mingling with people. His research and observations were registered in notebooks so Jor-El would receive them through J'onn's computer, since he lost his on an unknown place even to J'onn.
Earth was as fascinating as he hoped it would be. So many wonders and difficulties that Kal-El embraced right away, willing to improve his ideas to share them later; maybe after J'onn talked with the US government about him.
While he was, technically, an average American citizen, Kal-El had to find what to do to better understand Earth and its people. He had studied this planet, but being here was very different. There were many languages that he was still trying to learn, societies with same characteristics but different meanings and religions, peculiar fashion to each season… It was hard to adapt fast.
A job was needed to gain money. But to do that he needed a college degree so he could find something suitable. Analyzing professions, he came up with the idea of being a professor; he would be able to teach physics or history, but he wanted more contact with the whole world, something that would guarantee he had information about every continent at the same time.
That's it!
The shop window had TVs showing the morning news. A reporter, he smiled brightly with the idea. That was the best way to keep up with everything in the world; he'd work beside well informed and creative people that would help him achieve his goal.
"J'onn," he talked happily on his new cell phone, "am I interrupting? No? Good. I've been thinking about… things, and came up with an idea. I want a job. I thought about every career and found one that would be just perfect! How can I apply to college? I suppose I have the age for it."
J'onn explained everything and promised he'd find a way to help him; Kal-El only needed patience and a lot of study so he would fit on the university environment.
"Can I move to Metropolis? Seems like this city is big enough for people to notice me right away." Kal-El looked annoyingly to someone honking on the street. "And besides, I like Metrop… Rao!"
An anxious man accelerated the car before the traffic lights allowed him to go and made an abrupt turn to the right, where a woman was passing by, careless of the car running in her direction. She was more interested on her call with the boyfriend.
Kal-El put the cell phone in his jacket pocket.
Disappearing before bystanders' eyes, he ran to reach her. Someone must have seen the accident that'd happen, because a scream could be distinguished among other noises. People already moved out of the way, hoping the car didn't get them too.
Right on time, Kal-El caught the woman in his protective arms, but there wasn't enough time to run from the car that hit him on the back.
Smoke covered the street.
Somehow the city seemed very silent after the loud bang. Metropolitans froze, staring at him with wide eyes and agape mouths, trying to process the fact the he was still standing with the woman and the car was behind him with his body's imprint on the hood.
Kal-El realized too late what he'd done.
Slowly his eyed moved down to meet stunned hazel ones. The woman was young, about his age, with dark brown hair, and looked at him in a mist of perplexity and admiration.
"Hi!" he said lamely.
"What the hell are you?!" Her index finger poked his face.
On the street everyone looked with the same question plastered on their faces.
"Weren't you supposed to say 'who are you'?" Kal-El frowned, confused by her words. His different accent could be noticed clearly.
"That works too." She didn't move out of his arms, afraid her knees would fail. He saved her from being hit! The stranger was still protecting her with his arms. "You're strong." And have the most beautiful eyes ever, she wanted to add. "I'm Lois Lane."
"Glad to meet you… not on these circumstances, of course, miss," he said with a smile. That was the first time he had someone glued to his body, specially such a nice looking young woman staring that way at him. "Kal-El."
The damage was done; use the other name would just complicate matters.
Their talk was interrupted by flashes that came out of nowhere and incessant questions. People gathered around them, recovered from the event, and came to him with immensurable curiosity.
Kal-El pulled Lois away. He needed to talk to J'onn about what he'd done.
"I've got to go, miss."
Lois stayed in the same spot he left her, looking around to see where he'd gone so fast. She could not forget how insanely attractive was he and how strong he felt under that shirt with the strange "S" symbol, and those blue eyes of his…
She fainted.
Both Kal-El and J'onn J'onnz entered the crowded small room. Politicians, security and reporters were gathered around for his first official appearance. The U.N. Ambassador spoke first, calming people down so Metropolis' Mayor could finally start the press conference. But no one wanted to wait. Citizens wanted explanations regarding what happened three weeks ago involving the young man the tabloids already called "Superman".
"Guess I should have tried to just push the woman out of the way," he lowered his voice when the Mayor stepped in to speak. Alongside the Martian in his human form, Kal-El waited in a corner, his posture stiff. "Stopping the car was very dense of me."
"You never experienced an accident in front of you before; you just did what any normal person would want to do: save the endangered other. This, here, was bound to happen sooner or later." J'onn smiled. "Her being a reporter-to-be just hurried things. Now go."
Kal-El looked again at every being in the room, asking himself if this was really necessary. Primitives. As much as he wanted to stop the thought, it came easily to his mind. He didn't like being treated like a celebrity, giving speeches and autographs or taking pictures, or just being seeing as a freak only because he was a foreigner.
Earthling were, beyond doubt, stranger than he thought at first.
"Good morning…" The room silenced under such strong voice. "I'm Kal-El, son of Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van, from the House of El, one of the ruling families of my planet, Krypton." He paused to give time for the information sink in. "Krypton is very distant from here, fifty light-years, hence why you never found us. We live under a technocratic bureaucracy, led by a Council of scientists. They are the provider of our remarkable technology, which gives us ways to study planets from afar, since our xenophobic culture impeded us from going outside of Krypton for many years. I'll answer your questions in a while, please." He addressed the man with the hand upward.
"My father's experiments made possible a ship capable of overcoming Krypton's gravitational force. So, five years ago, it was decided that we'd end our seclusion to adventure ourselves through one Kryptonian, heir of one of the Council's members, who would spread our knowledge to the benefit of another planet. I was chosen after proving myself intellectually – capable of quick learning and understanding our dissimilarities without prejudices –, and physically – I'd be under a different environment that'd give me certain abilities, so I must be skilled to master them. But I didn't come because of powers, my only purpose here is to show Earth new means, under another light, allied with each and every person, be it authority or civilian. Thank you."
Without further explanations about his mission, he silenced.
Everyone remained still, bewildered by such speech, and amazed at the same time with the young man who spoke so confidently to the whole world through the television. Soon, a fuss of questions invaded the room.
"Do you already have someone here?"
"What are your powers, Superman?"
"How long have you been here?"
"If Lois Lane didn't happen, were you going to show yourself?"
Kal-El held up a hand that silenced them.
"One at a time, please." He showed a white smile. "And to answer to some of you… I've been here for three months, learning about anything I could. I wanted to know you to finally show myself publically. Well, given my short period here, I don't have a girlfriend, if that's what you meant."
"You didn't talk about your powers."
He explained them carefully.
"Many people are afraid of you; they're uniting against the government for accepting you on American soil. Are there any reasons for us to fear your godlike abilities and your intentions?"
"No." He didn't even have to think to respond. "My sole purpose here is to serve humanity. Harming you goes against my morality and my people's trust in me."
His answer pleased the reporters.
"So, how will you work here? Through NGOs, advertisements, philanthropic parties, an embassy… Which of the above, Superman? Do you even like being called that?"
"I'm still figuring out what to do." He remembered his postponed plan to go to Metropolis University. "An embassy would fit… But maybe I'll work alone for awhile, researching and giving lectures in and outside of the USA, showing my technology to improve on your medicine, society, technology, among others." His serious expression transformed into a boyish one. "I'm not alone in this nickname thing. I've read about Green Lanterns, Flash, and even this one called Batman… Actually, I kind of like it."
Zciaran glared at his second in command with glowing red eyes. Darkseid was no fool to promote her as his head Fury. The woman was made for the battlefield, skilled as no other and a good strategist, a disturbingly talented mind, and as heartless as a warrior should be. But she lacked raw power and…and this was something that he couldn't figure out yet.
"Our army will be ready to leave in two days. Our mother boxes, collected on Apokolips, are all working and ready for use. And the Furies are prepared for action. I leave tomorrow to…"
"No."
"Excuse me, my Lord?"
"She will go," he stated.
"What?! But, my Lord, she hasn't completed her training…"
"You don't question me!" he said calmly. "At the age of sixteen, I confronted my King to become his ruler as it was expected from an heir. I won. Rebuilding my people's pride was the hardest part and conquering was even worse with such a weak nation."
Zciaran looked at the citadel through a window. "She is going. And you will watch her from here. Your intervention will only take place if necessary, Lashina."
She swallowed her pride and bowed, continuing to talk about their plans.
"We needed to find a near planet, but far enough that it wouldn't be able to attack us back if…"
Now he knew. Lashina lacked the fervor, the known imprudence, the dazzling gracious beauty that only she had.
His Ruby…
A war was responsible for such destruction on the land. The man observed the field with pity, all his hard work destroyed by marching feet and animals. His beautiful and perfumed purple flowers, blue when light reached them, were now under mud and bodies.
He watched his planet being consumed by hatred while a simple and humble rope tied him by the neck. His people was not made for battle, they were delicate as flowers, skilled with hoes and seeds for planting.
Never would he hold a weapon. But he'd follow her blindly.
His mind had stopped working when he first saw the descending figure sometime ago. Never had he seen that strange creature or something as beautiful as her.
An ethereal mirage even for someone who lived in a paradise world, filled with beauty and preciosities such as herbs, perfumes and gold.
She was his angel coming from the sky, floating calmly to his aid. Wearing white like the chief's damsels, a long soft tunic that contrasted with a long raven hair framing a delicate and astounding young face, she came like a glowing star. She, so different from the women here, and so captivating that she had him hypnotized after one single small smile.
She spoke with kindness to his ears, reaching his mind quickly and transforming his thoughts patiently until he understood her and opened up his home to her. Arms embraced him warmly, and he felt her perfume tease his nostrils the whole night.
Now he saw his angel transform.
She moved fluidly between desperate men that tried to protect the land. Every twirl seemed calculated by his Gods, perfection in delicate innate movements that intended to save only him from those brutes.
He was trapped in his own illusion and did not know that.
Only she filled his expectant eyes. Graciously dancing, making a stern music with two blades cutting the wind, painting herself in crimson. And always so serene and soft. An impassive expression he assumed meant guilt for she didn't want to do any harm. Not because of him. But to keep him safe, she sacrificed her purity.
His angel came to him shortly later, when no one else stood, but her. With the same smile and bright eyes. No weapon near to scare him.
"Thank you," she didn't explain why. And he didn't need to hear anything to know she thanked him for sharing information about this planet, for welcoming her unquestioningly. The angel cupped his face with wet hands, only her blue eyes captured his attention. "You were so helpful. But I must leave."
Her caress weakened him in a way that he couldn't breathe, intakes of air seemed difficult and her touch pained his brown skin. She clicked a button on his collar. His eyes finally opened, free of her enchant, to see her face close, stained with red lines and dots.
Reality hit hard his body. He flew backward until muscled arms stopped him. Her arms. Traitorous hands that comforted him days… no, weeks ago, killed his people and he was to blame.
"How?" He pulled on the collar that seemed to translate what he said. "Why? I thought you were an angel…"
"A death angel that came in search of souls and their lost treasures to satisfy my Lord," a peaceful voice told him. "You watched us for two weeks, saw misery and desperation through clouded eyes, and guided me towards victory. Your soul will be sparred for we need a witness."
"Who are you?!"
"I shall be remembered in your stories, but faceless and nameless."
She held a small device in front of his eyes, soon seeing oblivion in them.
"I serve Lord Zciaran… Sing to your misfortune and to our glorious Haecatombè."