Traejan

The sun was bright, burning; its light filled his vision. He could feel the heat of it, even when he closed his eyes, he couldn’t escape it – the red glow forced its way through his eyelids.

So warm. The air was heavy around him, and the brilliant glare – the white of the snow – painful. He narrowed his eyes, knelt in the pack, needing its cold touch, relief from the heat. The snow wasn’t cold. It was hot.

How can snow be hot?

The wind picked up, stirring flakes, spinning them around him, thicker – warm – then cold, darkening the light, cooling the heat – chilling everything. He ran, trying to get back to the warmth, but the darkness – the cold – enveloped him.

Traejan turned back to look. Kaelin was there, standing in the snow, the plumes of white bursting in the ground behind her.

The sight of her stopped him in his tracks. He’d thought he’d lost her. He tried to run to her, to reach her, but his legs wouldn’t move for him, they felt like they were stuck in mud.

“Traejan… Traejan,” her voice echoed. She stumbled through the drifts, tried to reach him.

“Kaelin,” he cried back, but as he reached out, she disappeared into the storm, into the swirling fury.

“Kaelin!” he cried out again, as he was buried by it. “No!”

He was smothering, held down; he had to get to her.

“Kaelin!”

What was holding him down? He tried to move his arms, rise – failed.

“Just a dream,” the voice insisted.

“Just a–” he started, then realized he was awake, was in the tent. Kyso was holding him down.

“Okay,” he relaxed. Traejan looked up into the darkness. “I’m awake.”

“Good,” the old man told him, let go, stood up. “You have to get up. We have things to do.”

There was something strange about his tone, something wrong. Traejan threw off the thick layers of blankets, felt the cold chill.

“Kyso,” he started to rise, alarmed. “What’s going on?”

Kyso spared a glance to the tent doorway, then looked dourly at Traejan as he rose to his feet.

“Is started,” he began. “The Macro has noticed us. The mechs are coming”

The mechs! His whole body tensed.

“Where?”

Kyso put a hand out, to touch him, a light pat on the shoulder.

“They aren’t here yet,” he continued. “But Althea has told me a corpore is on its way.”

Traejan turned, looked at the collection of gear, wondering what to leave – what to take. His boots went on first, then he began to gather the necessities.

“How much time do we have?” he asked, looking back, wondered why his old friend stood so still.

“She couldn’t say. She is preparing for it now.”

Traejan continued stuffing his pack. Then the words sunk in. He looked sharply back at Kyso.

“How?” he asked. “I thought we hadn’t found enough tech.”

“She has enough, she says,” again Kyso’s voice dropped, sounding pained.

“We have to leave,” he continued – insisted, pointing at half filled packs. “There isn’t much time; we have to pack up the lifter and go. Now!”