Okay, people. I'm so, so sorry for taking so long on this update, and I deeply apologize for its meager length (though size isn't everything... at least that's what my girlfriend tells me...). Anyway, I have an excuse (It was Ghost Recon this time)Don't listen to him). I'm leaving for college in less than two weeks (summer program at Penn State). Now, that DOES NOT mean that I am in any way shape or form giving up on SNTXTL. All it means is that I'm going to have less time to write. I will do as much as I can to adhere to my schedule, but in order to do that I might have to post in shorter chapters, simply updating each in chunks before moving onto the next if I don't just release as a whole over longer spreads of time. With school work, finals, and all that good stuff I've been busy as hell. Fear not, though, denizens, as I still adhere to my standards of writing, and am not going to skimp on quality in order to get it out on time. I'd like to thank you all SO MUCH for your patience, faith, and loyalty in giving this work meaning.
Also, tomorrow (June 10th) is the big day. I'm finally becoming a pilot :D That took up some time, too. So, as I move on to the next chapter of my life, fear not as I will still be spending as much time as I can working on what I consider the second most satisfying thing I have ever done with my life (behind flying because... well, I can fly...). Again, thank you, and please enjoy this chapter.
We're FINALLY getting out of the beautiful but now slightly boring Plains of Ildanesh. Next chapter, The Hub. It's NOT going to be the end, by the way.
"A— An…dron." Her voice was quiet, as delicate as she herself was, and choked by emotional agony striving for release. She struggled through her state of mind and the foreign nature of his name to pronounce it.
Andron was halfway standing when he heard her speak to him for the first time. He felt a hand feebly grip his sleeve, and he froze in place. He looked down at it in bewilderment, unable to immediately comprehend the fact that she was reaching out to him. Her empty hand not holding Anhariel's necklace gripped him with small white fingers, smudged with dirt and grime. He followed her arm with his gaze, and laid his eyes upon the loneliest face he'd ever seen in his life. Tears were beginning to stream freely down her face from her glimmering eyes as she was on the verge of losing her battle she had been waging with her emotions, and gritted teeth behind open, trembling lips only further reinforced the fact. He turned back to face her completely and knelt at her side, her hand still holding onto him.
She was still unable to completely understand what she felt. Within her, all that was heard was the booming resonance of her want for comfort, for somewhere to find solace. Nothing else mattered to her. She could not bear to fight alone any longer. She needed him. Though she had hated him for what he'd done... Eruwen realized, with guilt adding more to her pain, that she'd hated Andron because he had saved her. He'd been prolonging her suffering by keeping her alive, and for that reason she hated him. Her mind jumping back to her family, she realized with a spike of despair being driven into her heart that her death would be for naught regardless. Their soulstones were missing, and there was no way she would ever see them again in the Infinity Circuit, or anywhere. If she died, she would be possibly even more alone. Andron had saved her, and though she had initially thought it for the worse, she realized that he was what had kept her from allowing her lack of will to live to destroy her. She looked ahead, where he knelt at her eye level, and scanned his face. There was pain written on it, too. It was the agony of one who had seen the suffering of others too many times, who had taken it upon himself to suck the pain of others into himself so that they might live better lives. She felt it. It was the tiniest current, but she felt her despair being drawn slowly from her though Andron. In his eyes, she saw that he was willing to sacrifice for her, that he would be there for her. Though she was in the center of a hell storm of war and death, she was given someone to confide in. She had simply been too blind with hate and fear to see him.
He felt as if she was looking into the very depth of who he was, seeking out any imperfection in his soul. He had done all he could to show her that he only wanted to help her, and could only hope that she would accept his hand, and let him help her. He knew what she must have thought of him, how her opinion of him was immensely tainted, but he would still try, as without someone to release into, she would be torn apart from the inside out. He waited, hoping that he had done enough to prove that he wanted to protect her.
She didn't care who he was anymore, what he might or might not have done, or what those of his kind stood for. All she had ever received from him was kindness, and while she had been bitter and unwilling to accept it in the beginning, his last gesture was something she never could have dreamed of from anyone. The darkness of war and despair had been choking her to death, strangling what little life she had left out of her. She knew that she could not survive alone, and she in fact did not want to be alone. He was a human, but he was also something else; something that exists without regard for creed or past. He wanted to be there for her, she knew, and she needed someone to confide in more than at any other moment in her life. Eruwen wanted to scream, to wail, to weep, and to cry to the heavens, and ask why she had been cast into hell among the damned and dead. Instead, she found herself diving forward and doing so into the human's chest.
Her hands gripped his tunic with all of their might, her muffled wails escaping from the cloth and carrying for a short distance before being swallowed into the silence of the night. She buried her face into him and let the pent up agony burst from within her, her tears being absorbed into his uniform. Her entire body was affected by the torrent, and she convulsed and writhed as she sobbed.
Andron was almost startled when Eruwen dove into him, causing him to tense up before relaxing again. He could feel her sobs and wails reverberating in his torso as she let all of her pain flow freely and into him, and he quickly felt wet spots form where her face was, her tears soaking through his uniform. His hand was still on her shoulder, and he wrapped his other arm around the girl, holding her tightly as she broke down in his embrace, her body wracked with sobs. She writhed in his arms, nearly gone mad with the power of the release of pain she was feeling and all he could do was sit and hold her, trying to offer something resembling a haven for her to let go. He began to feel it; that outpouring of emotion and its effect on those near it. His heart wrenched, blood rushed to his face, and his tear ducts dilated as he became a conduit for her eruption of intense feeling. He held her tightly, pressing his forehead against her head, offering whatever comfort he could possibly think of in her moment of dire need. At first he was confused as to why he felt the way he did, but as he sat and held the sobbing child, he understood a dark yet freeing truth. Though his eyes were wrung shut, he saw their faces. He saw that woman, whose name he would never know, holding her shuddering children as he murdered them. Eruwen had suffered the same fate he had inflicted on them, and he felt the pain that something so horrible caused. He was holding the result of actions like his. In a way, he had someone else who knew his pain. He vowed that he would atone for that through her; that he would readily give his life to ensure her safety, no longer only for her sake. In the back of his mind, however, he had already made that commitment; it was stronger than ever before. He was no longer haunted by ethereal faces, but was protecting someone who had suffered firsthand the atrocities of war that he'd partaken in.
She brought out what he had been trying to forget, trying to contain for those years, her release a catalyst for his own, pushing his precarious balance over the edge, causing contained torment to spill from him. He understood firsthand what she had suffered, though it was because he had been the one who had perpetrated the acts. He felt everything she did as she cried in his embrace, their shared pain bringing them together from both sides of the same horror. He held her and wept, tears rolling down his face.
So much horror, despair, agony, and death had surrounded and permeated her. She'd felt it eating away at her soul, as if she was dying as she walked. In a way, she had been. As she sobbed in his arms, letting go a lifetime's worth of angst and sadness gained in the course of days, she could in fact feel it. She felt... safe. Safe to cry, to grieve, to stop and allow her emotions to flow freely, knowing that he was there, and wanted to be there, to soak up her pain and do all he could to liberate her from the prison of misery in which she had been trapped. For the first time since she had witnessed the death of her entire family, she did not feel alone. Eruwen felt drops of moisture on the top of her head, and through the chaos in her mind felt the bobbing of his chest. He was crying with her, and though she did not understand why, it offered her comfort. For a short eternity, Eruwen cried, before, slowly, she grew calm, and fell asleep nestled in the arms of the weeping human. Though the pain would never truly be gone, he had taken some of the burden for her, she felt, and he had given her someone she knew she could trust completely.
Aureleth had been awake, though she feigned sleep so as not to influence Andron's actions with his knowledge that she was conscious. In war, she realized, everything was at a frantic pace, including the development of relationships and bonds. What would take months for humans she had done in days, and Andron had finally gained the trust of the little girl after several painful days of rejection and mistrust. They had to though, she supposed. They may very well all be dead the next day. They were being tossed around in a cyclone of death and destruction at blistering speeds, and all they could do was try to find something to hold onto. They'd found each other, and Eruwen had finally found Andron. She smiled before returning to sleep.
Two newly connected souls offered each other comfort in an otherwise bleak and horrid world, their shared suffering a base for their newfound trust to be built upon. They had been separated by bitterness, hatred, and fear, but it was ironically the actions that came with such sentiments that allowed the two to overcome them. Many were lost, but out of the tragic deaths they were able to salvage something beautiful, that would help them cope with the horrors that surrounded them, strengthening another bond in a small triangle of hope lost in a conflagration of death. Eruwen had found a guardian, someone in whom she could confide in and rely on. In giving back what was most precious to her, Andron had shown Eruwen that he was not anything like the others. He had wept with her, and she had felt their emotions affecting one another. In that moment she had known that he was her protector, and it was he who would watch over her.
Eruwen woke to the sound of distant guns, and the feeling of the ever present breeze brushing over her face. She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was laying down, Andron's blanket covering her. Her vision was blurry, and she rubbed her eyes with balled fists. Upon raising her hands from her eyes, she saw the necklace whose chain was intertwined in her fingers. She gasped, the memories of the past night flooding back to the forefront of her mind. She felt eyes upon her, and sat up, finding Andron and Aureleth sitting next to one another and watching her. Andron smiled, but there was sadness tainting it.
He wondered if she understood what she was to him; that she was not only someone he would give his life for and dearly wanted to protect but a reminder of why he had made those decisions. Andron was unsure, but the night before had bridged most any gaps that had existed between them. He had finally earned Eruwen's trust, and he would be damned if he was going to waste it. He watched her with Aureleth as the child woke, rubbing her eyes and taking in her surroundings in a manner resembling that of a lost child, which she technically was. He realized that he awoke the same way every day. His mind was never able to completely accept the fact that he was at war, and though he period of disorientation and surprise when there was not a roof over his head and the warm comfort of a bed had grown to near nothingness, it still lingered, a reminder of how unnatural it all was to him. He watched her as she saw the necklace in her hand and, judging by her reaction, realized that the previous night had in fact not been a dream. She looked up at him again with a stare of bewildered, immeasurable thanks. He smiled at her, though the memories of the previous night injected sadness into his demeanor, and it showed on his face though he tried to appear jubilant.
"Are we ready?" There was no sense in waiting, he thought.
"I am, yes. We will definitely arrive today, if not within a few hours of walking." Again, she knew little of what they would actually do once they reached the hub. By all odds, they should have been dead, so even having only a shell of a plan to act upon was a blessing that she and Andron would exploit to its fullest. She voiced the next question that entered her mind without considering its implications, and was unable to stop herself before it reached his ears.
"Have you and Eruwen..." she let the following words hang, as what had happened could have been called many things.
"Yes, we have." He smiled. "I think we finally understand each other. There was a lot... I realized a lot... About her and myself..." the sudden influx of memories that the notion of that particular moment, what it meant to him, and what she was to him caused made his eyes fall towards the ground. "I can't let her get hurt again. I can't bear to see it again. It'll kill me." He let what he had said linger to be taken in and digested, their weight and significance requiring that.
Andron stood with an intake of breath, and walked over to the sitting child, her eyes following him as he moved. He stopped, towering over her sitting form as he stood in front of her. He extended his hand, palm up, offering it to her as she sat. Understanding that the heat of the previous moment had since passed, and that she was likely to be apprehensive again, he waited patiently and was both relieved and happy to find that she did not hesitate long before she took his offered hand. He lifted the child to her feet, the blanket rolling from her shoulders as she came to a standing position, Anhariel's necklace dangling from her hand that was not enveloped in his. He let go of her hand, and she offered the tiniest of smiles before looking off into the distance, her mind becoming occupied with thoughts he was not sure that he wanted to know. He stooped to take the blanket, but upon seeing that she still grasped it with one hand, decided to let her be. He returned to Aureleth and donned his vest, pack, and retrieved his lasrifle from the ground.
"Well..." There was little to say in situations like theirs, the unspoken saying far more than what would have been. He received a nod in return. "Eruwen."
The child glanced round at him. Aureleth interjected with what he assumed was her telling the girl that they were about to leave. She nodded, before returning to the tree where her and her sister's names were carved into the bark. She stood there, taking one last moment with the precious sanctuary to the love she had shared with Anhariel. She traced the runes with her finger, etching the picture in front of her into her memory as she followed their contours. Though she had few left, she shed tears for her lost sister and the horror that had enveloped their world. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Andron as the one comforting her. Though the gesture was small, simply a touch, its effects were undeniable. She offered a small, sad smile as thanks, receiving a similar expression in return. He turned away and returned to Aureleth's side where they waited for her. She turned back to the carving, trying to return to the memory of the day she gave Anhariel her necklace. Unable to recall it, she placed her hand against the runes one last time before turning and following Andron and Aureleth as they began the last leg of their journey to the hub, unsure of what awaited them. She was certain, however, that he would be there for her, and though she had thought them on different sides of a bitter life and death struggle, he had shown her that they were more alike than she had thought, and that he would provide shelter from the horrors that lurked around them. He would protect her, and give her the ability to confide in someone that she so dearly needed, and knowing that helped.
As the sun broke more than halfway above the horizon, beginning yet another arc through the skies, peering down with minor, morbid curiosity on the battles raging under its gaze, the three wanderers set out on the final leg of another chapter in a journey whose end they were not sure of. All that was certain, however, was that they would need to fight for what they had.
The hub loomed in the distance, its massive spires and elegant curves contributing to its imposing yet graceful architecture. It appeared to be unused, with no sign of activity in the area except for lost belongings littering the fields surrounding it, dropped as the displaced Eldar people fled from the approaching storm.
"Throne of Terra. Will you be able to get us through there?" The structure was massive, and without proper guidance Andron knew that he would grow lost very quickly.
"Do not worry, I will, though what concerns me is what might wait inside." Aureleth was unsure whether or not they would find Imperials or Eldar inside, but coming across either would likely have dire consequences for them if they were unable to avoid being seen. Though her methods of waging war were almost entirely oriented on charging straight into the jaws of the enemy to tear them apart from the inside, that option was no longer viable in most cases. She would have to remain unseen, as would Andron and Eruwen. They began walking towards the spires across the last stretch of open field.
As they walked, Andron realized that he had never been in a place quite like the Plains of Ildanesh. They were, as far as he was concerned, perfect. The only structure punctuating it, and even so fitting it nicely, was the transport hub in front of them. Though it was not of nature, it integrated with the surrounding area, becoming one with, rather than fighting, the area around it. What did not complement the plains, however, were the possessions and personal belongings strewn about their route. Pouches, bags, works of art, and a plethora of objects whose purpose Andron was not quite sure of littered the area. Among the forsaken items, he realized that he saw little to nothing that he would have guessed belonged to a child. Though thousands had fled, there seemed to be little evidence of children among them. He voiced his observation to Aureleth.
"Yes, Eldar are… reserved… regarding that. The," she paused, obviously awkward on the subject despite her newfound experience with it, "process is quite… complicated," she forced the sentence out of her mouth as if it were some strange object she were wriggling out from her teeth.
"In what way?" His curiosity got the better of him.
As blood vessels in her face dilated violently and blood poured into the upper layers of her skin, she dearly wished she had donned her helmet which was attached to her belt and hanging at her side. She spoke very reservedly. "I… it takes a long time."
"What like a few hours?" The tiny part of his mind that operated at ork-level intelligence was elated at the idea, and he quickly beat it back into the mental cave he had made for it.
She coughed in surprise as she realized what he thought she had meant, quickly specifying that it was not so. "No, no. It takes years," she clarified.
Andron was fighting the ork tooth and nail. He recoiled slightly. "Y… years?"
She forced herself to take her eyes from the direction opposite him and gauge his reaction. She realized that what she said had not helped in the slightest. She came close to blurting out her amendments. "I meant… it happens in stages. I do not know much about it. It is extremely rare."
"Oh. You did say something about a lack of intimacy… or even a hug. Hell even I got that and my childhood was by no means great. Why, though?"
"That will take far too long to explain now." She would have liked to, but they were approaching their destination and would reach it momentarily. She resumed scanning for anything they might have needed to take note of.
"Alright, then." He thought for a moment. A question, whose answer would hold immense weight for his future, formed in his mind.
"So… are children… rare?" The idea was oddly unsettling to him. The thought that a race of people was essentially allowing itself to die out in a long, slow, passive form of mass suicide was very disturbing. He waited for an answer, and noticed that she sighed in response before turning to look at him. She looked saddened.
"Extremely. For us, children are a very rare sight. They are rarer than… anything. I'd find it almost laughable if it were not so morbid. We had had everything; we'd ruled the stars. We were everything mankind aspires to be, and alas, we squandered it. Through our own greed, lust, and blind groping for thrills and new heights, we fell from our perch atop the universe, and landed on a precipice, where we are barely clinging onto our existence. We still have our technology, we have preserved some of our culture, though it was that culture that made us who we are, but we lack the most fundamentally important thing to any civilization… to any species: children… a future…" She paused, casting her eyes to the ground, and sighing slowly before continuing, returning to meet his gaze. "We are afraid, Andron. We fear ourselves, and live in the shadow of that fear constantly. We're dying out, and we know it. Almost by choice we are letting ourselves wither and die. The topic is largely avoided, but if not addressed, we will disappear into oblivion. Yes, Eruwen is indeed one of very few."
As Aureleth spoke to him, he was nearly overwhelmed with the responsibility he felt being placed on him. Or was he taking it by his own will, he wondered. Eruwen had already seemed so fragile to him, so precious. He had no idea of her true significance. She could be the last child left alive on Yul'Te if what Aureleth was saying was true. The thought horrified him, a world without innocence, full of only those with hearts blackened by the deplorable world that they, humans, the Eldar, all of the beings of the galaxy together had forged in fiery hatred, malice, and anger. There had already been little to no doubt in his mind as to what he would give to ensure that Eruwen never had to suffer again, but his revelation only increased his convictions. Unconsciously, he placed his hand on the child's shoulder as they walked, and felt her muscle tense before relaxing under his touch. She did nothing to shrug him off, a sign of their newfound trust. He would honor that with his life if he had to.