Part 11: Grandpa's tale

350 Kilometers south of the Fallen City of Drestburg, Region 1: Cardapo heights, Protectorate of Drestburg

05/15/365A.C.

0500hrs

His droopy eyes stared straight into the dark cloudy sky. The rain had stopped falling, for now. His eyes wandered towards those very mountains with jagged and pointed peaks that they were more like spires that reached towards the sky. The dark clouds hugging the peaks like an afro, fogging those peaks like a snow globe. The very sight, though unnatural was more than just magical. The dark rusty ferrite base and the obsidian peaks worked wonders even with just small exposure to light. How the obsidian even formed on the peaks or how they didn’t turn into snowflake obsidian is still a mystery even to him as he sat in his old “man’s” rocking chair. His simple concrete house by the way rests on a much shorter peak, just enough to keep him from asphyxiation.

“Grandpa, Can I ask you something? “ The voice of a youth he remembered reminiscent of his youth called out to him.

“Why is there some sort of a huge plot hole during the re-conquest of Drestburg?”

“That’s a very tricky question to answer grandson. That portion of history is far worth kept hidden except for those who need it.”

“Isn’t that quite unfair nowadays? Everyone deserves to know the truth.” The youth retorted though to some they would shut him up, for him, it reminds Ilkhaver of him some 375 years ago.

“Damien, if you learned something that could’ve caused an entire nation to turn into a bunch of panicked headless chickens, would you even dare say anything about it?”

After moistening his lips he continued: “Some things are far better off hidden than shown. The people must be ready before they are confronted with such realities. By the way, why so sudden? Since when did you dabble in history?”

“It’s my hobby grandpa. Just as I am quite superb in mechanical and biological matters like our family, my memory is still good enough to fill me up with classical and modern history. It’s a historian’s job to tell the most unbiased story in the first place.” The youth said proudly as his dirty brown hair bounced as the wind blows straight at him.

“Well the information you asked for is only available in the national archives, and even some of the junior High Guardians are not authorized to such information. But I believe it won’t take too long until they’re released. By that time you still have to wait.” The youth looked dismayed and looked down on that rust-colored ground so rough that he’d break his bones if he ever thought of even scratching the surface. He knew his grandpa might have some information since he had a high standing in the national government. He was even a celebrated inventor that still participates in researches and various shady and public projects. But right now he hit a deadlock, he would have to relax rather than discover during this “Outdoor Vacation”.

He sent the boy some leads in the local study which he deliberately made clear must be kept shut. He noticed a tiny smile creak out of his grandson’s face as the young man scurried away towards his lead. This sight made him sigh as he remembered himself. Nonetheless, it’s quite normal in this family, though he never expected to be able to get his first son at the age of 303 years. He quickly noticed something that he constantly longed forever since he was voluntarily stuck underground for at least 290 years. It was kind of “Hope” he remembered, this he noticed after looking at the abnormally cloudy and dark skies of this strange and alien planet. The occasional sparks of lightning and the violet and sometimes pink coloration of those alien skies were a real phenomenon to behold as this continent keeps getting covered by clouds of vapor. This is the life in the Protectorate of Drestburg, a land so alien that its sister continent was quite willing to be away.

Just as he smiled as the passing clouds alongside some traces of lightning and thunder were heard, a patch of clouds turned yellow before they darkened. That’s when he remembered that his wife Vaila was waiting in their room, and he was way overdue. ‘Damn old me!’ He thought to himself as he looked at himself in a mirror. Though it no longer was a surprise, he still looked astounded as he looked at a young man barely in his thirties in the mirror. If only his white hair hadn’t shown up, he would’ve truly thought that he was young. His face cracked a smile as he looked at himself, and to his son who looked even younger than him who was cuddling with his equally younger wife; sorry to spoil, they’re both fifty years old.

After walking across a corridor, he looked outside at the pool and the playgrounds. He saw some of his children and his grandkids playing. Looking at all of them always brought peace to his heart, all the troubles of this quite confounding world seemed to disappear. But looking at them also made him laugh as he proceeded to his room, he currently can’t quite crack the reason for their youthful appearances. Even to their wives, they seemed to radiate a lot with youth. He always thought that perhaps it was something about their mood but that’s something he really can’t get along with.

Looking at his wife who was still asleep on the bed, he couldn’t help but wonder. What is the secret to their long life, to their abnormal cell regeneration rate? Ever since he stopped being a workaholic boor and started giving her attention, they both gained youth. Every night of passion they spent in bed, they shed their wrinkles and began to look anew that their colleagues were literally taken aback at the situation at hand. He can’t quite understand it. The locals can live long as long as they are still active with each other, but youth? That’s not on the table. Is it emotion? Is it connection? Is it a state of mind that even kept his in-laws youthful? He can’t tell as of late, that’s his project nowadays.

Still, looking at his youthful and lustful wife sprawled like a goddess on the bed made him truly wonder as he recalled the very day he gained this last chance at a life he couldn’t have. But today that’s not in the menu, that’s a story for another day.

Her eyes are starting to awaken. Seeing him sitting at the bed watching her sleep as he caressed her flowing hair is naturally creepy. But she thinks otherwise as she pulls him near her as she kisses his cheeks.

***

10hrs later…

He sat at the bed beside her holding a sort of synthetic book with a dark cover. It was already 10 past three in the morning and the contents of his life were upon him. It was at this time of day that he always ends up in this situation.

Opening the book leads one to the first page with mere symbols and a few numbers that so barely a few can understand their meaning or origin. It was an enigma as only the next pages can contain words that those who live can understand or so they’d thought as he looked at them; all poems in the ancient haiku. To those with casual eyes, it’s good poetry but to those who knew, it’s history.

***

“White walls, dark is life

Fate is kind and showed me light

Martin here has harked”

It’s not something that he was happy to talk about, but to him, he was fighting for what he considered to be life back then. It must’ve run in the family, so it was no surprise that it happened to him that he was actually fighting for a lost cause. The very thought of losing was always repressed, and so for years, he pressed. He worked and worked and worked even though there was no light, just a void that stagnates. If only it could be expressed in a single word, then it should. But it couldn’t.

The constant fighting had brought screams and death. The mere idea that he believed he was still wanted. Though it was what he did want, it no longer was true. The whole place devolved into a case of wanton squalor. Even he went into a stage of grandeur and denial. However, all bubbles will pop.

He found to his displeasure one meager morning, a note of fewer than normal letters. Written in a script he once encountered, it was very cryptic and laconic.

“The sun shines, and so does moonlight.” Another note was not that helpful at all, way too short it forsakenly was: “Hold your arms.”

He decided to take it easy and expect it to be another prank by his last two remaining male colleagues. If only it was for that’s when he heard the alarm! Looking at a cracked wall that still held a cracked screen, he raced and found five people trying to untie one of their own after falling into a trap. Acting with instinct, he slammed the button and the hidden turrets started shooting! The five hastened and took cover on some forgotten rubble that he forgot to clear. Looking at the saboteurs that blew up his current batch of fresh bodies, he recalled the note and took note of the five. He noticed something quite different, the four were near identical. They even looked exactly like him except younger. But the fifth, looked like he was not endemic from here. In fact, he looked like someone who he remembered settled elsewhere.

Feeling competitive after centuries of mind grinding dour work, he decided to instead capture them. After deactivating the turrets, he released a nerve gas that temporarily sent them to sleep. He sort of wanted to know exactly how much they knew and what it was like outside. He smiled and looked at his deathly pale arm when he heard a ghostly whisper: “Good choice” Panicked, he turned around only to see a silhouette and a metal cylinder flying towards him.

Dodging the cylinder wasn’t easy and it managed to hit him in his left elbow, it felt like foil, however, and lighter than paper. Trying to unwrap the mysterious vessel, he found something oddly familiar. It was some sort of primitive data container, a small floppy disk-like device. This is elementary to his and he immediately went to work. However, it contained nothing. It was another blank slate, no different than a prank until he looked closely.

Inside the disk was a long streak of film that was hidden, well hidden that he could’ve thrown it in the trash if only he wasn’t competent. The length of the film contained pictures of places he had once been, it also had pictures of places beyond. He couldn’t believe that he missed all of this. The chaotic lands of the north, the anachronistic lands of the south, the hidden wonders and beauty of Sogerland, the development of the Protectorate of Drestburg and its walls he found them all invigorating, but also, quite depressing

He fought for something, treated life like it was a mere resource, lived for hundreds of years only to find out that he was wrong all along. The degenerates he so thought to be a mere blight on the name of his people was far better than he was. He saw pictures of them having good families, good friends, good lives. Their dedication, steadfast loyalty, unwavering commitment, and other virtuous values that he wished his people at least had. They were a prosperous bunch, but this one was leagues more!

However, it dawned unto him that this most likely is propaganda. He isn’t quite sure, but his doubts clouded his mind. Strolling more using his improvised projector, he found a picture; that of the five that he found snooping around his area. The fifth was one that he found interest in. Martin, Aleksandr Tochshandrii. He was indeed a mouthful that he didn’t even bother reading the middle name. There was something about this man that made him wonder for a moment. He was familiar. A sort of distant memory that he wanted back but couldn’t; a friend perhaps.

He wanted to do something about it. By the next day, he lost 50 fallen soldiers and 150 of the animated dead. But he didn’t even feel dread, just pure happiness. He captured the man who was in his late twenties and decided to subject him to various tests to see what he can get. But before he can continue, he felt something creep up his spine. He turned and looked back, it was a shadowy presence that constantly pouts smoke so dark that it no longer is soot. The infiltrator had only one word:

“Don’t!!!”

And he found himself asleep with a dream that he couldn’t get away from. It was as if the lives of two men were inside him. The memories of Aleksandr were with him, and they shined brightly in his mind. The memory of the infiltrator from birth to arrival was there as well, it made him extremely fascinated with their society. As far as he’s concerned, there’s no need to gather information. He can only feel the need to let go of his captive, and it was an impulsive need.

He can barely remember what happened after the encounter other than that he was enveloped in dark smoke and everything went dark afterward. This made him stop in his tracks before he can unite Aleksandr. He decided that if he wanted to truly succeed in playing his game, he might as well gather some form of insurance. He must approach this man as a friend, not an enemy.

His mind was frantic in trying to kill the defenseless man, however. Especially when he found some green plants growing on his table, and that table was made of iron. It’s impossible for it to grow some sap.

***

“Take me to heaven

Never there be left or right

Take me there, from hell”

The place is set. Chairs, lights, curtains, rugs you name it, a hell of a way to unnerve someone who is tied to a chair. But to Ilkhaver, he decided to greet this man as a guest, prisoner, or not. He’s not the best at pleasing people in the first place so why give a damn.

He sat in there looking at a dossier that he had prepared, looking at it with his hooded and wrinkly eyes trying to find something that he missed. He figured that the nerve gas must be keeping Alexandr asleep. So he waited, for an hour.

“You are so tardy, you know that soldier!”

“Who are you? Where am I?” Alexandr asked as he felt his arms sting and his still sleeping leg.

“My name is none of your concern, and neither is my origin. But I can assure you, that I have been living here even before your grandfathers can wipe their behinds.”

“You’re one of them!”

“Before, but now I don’t really know anymore. But there is one thing I truly want, and I wish that you are willing enough to hear it.”

Alexandr pondered for a moment. He kept his head down and still as he thought about his chances.

“I can guarantee your life but I need something that you must achieve.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need you to abort your efforts as of now, do it soon instead after you’ve studied this.” He immediately placed the metallic cylinder which contained the dossier and all other papers and maps that would prove fatal to the city if ever it fell in the wrong hands.

He continued: “Here lies the key to your success, and that success I will guarantee. Just not today but sooner. And I only ask for one thing: My life and another.”

Ilkhaver looked straight at the youngster’s eyes and as if asking his soul stared for a while before withdrawing and drinking a bottle of rum that he offered a cup to his prisoner. With his hands loose and fear in his heart, Alexandr drank what was offered and found to his surprise that it was similar to the local rum but far classier. He once thought of escape a while ago but let go of it. He can’t risk it, within the walls might pop a turret, hidden door, or worse: spinning disks.

“What’s my guarantee?”

“No need, I already gave it.” He replied as he walked away.

“You mean this?” His prisoner rose to his feet with the cylinder in hand.

“No, not that. It’s better.” A colorless gas rose from Alexandr’s feet without warning, knocking him to sleep without a hitch.

***

Alexandr woke up in a cell alongside his comrades who were captured the day before; he tried to sit after smelling the foul stench of the floor. The floor reeks of death, the walls of a nightmare, the roof is not even worthy of any words. It’s what you would expect if an underground bunker lost funding.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Some old geezer took me to his living room and tried to act like a man from a bygone era.”

“Oh! How’s the wine?”

“Only rum, at least it’s classy.”

“Lucky you, we were drinking boiled water from that dispenser over there. Don’t try it without the cup by the way if you’re thirsty.”

“I take one thank you…” Alexandr paused as he heard a click behind his back as he stood up.

“What was that?” One of the four asked as he took his hands out to look at them. He found a broken handcuff.

“That old bastard!” in astonishment he looked at his groin, there were some metal tubes in there. He started pulling each out one by one and near his ankle, there was a hidden pistol sheathed by a lightweight metal. The metal tubes were retractable weapons, four were axes, one was a barrel that fits snuggly to the pistol. Next, he looked at the cylinder that the old man held when he was interrogated. It was right next to him and unfortunately was covered in dust. He took it and tried to pry it open.

“Hey! That could blow us up to kingdom come if you don’t mind.”

“It’s either we try or we don’t. We can’t get away from here unless we get the keys, and those locks are too hard for the…” the cylinder opened, showing its contents. He found the papers, a total of twenty .22 cal bullets for the pistol, and the keys.

“I told you.” He smiled with the keys in his hand as he freed them one by one.

“Who did you meet?”

“Didn’t give me his name, only that we can live tomorrow if we escape.” One of the four asked as he gave them the weapons one by one except for the pistol. He decided to make good use of it as he was the better marksman.

The halls outside were quiet, a bit too quiet. No wheezing, coughing, nor moaning of the dead. It was too eerily silent, even for them. The place seemed like a simulation, and Alexandr tried that, it was too similar. They slowly traversed the place and finally found where the dead went; in holding pens. No wonder why they were so quiet, the pens had glass.

They proceeded to rush to the exit when a rock was thrown and nearly hit their noses. It came from a dark hall. Thanks to their instincts, they immediately sought cover and hid for a while before deciding to see what it was. There was a rock, but nothing else. Alexandr, being the only one with a ranged weapon decided to see it for himself. He went closer and closer to the entrance, breathing heavily he decided to take a peek, he found nothing. Still feeling unnerved he tried to sweep with his weapon, but he found no one. Except for a reflection in a darkened area that turned out to be a man. A friendly one, it was the Sogerman.

“(Sigh) you scared me.”

“Not intentionally. Come on! Get those guns and follow me.”

“Not so fast! Where were you?”

“Trying to make sure the five of you are still alive. Now, do you want to die here or elsewhere?”

***

The sight of that man scares him. The ability to just appear out of nowhere is something out of his reach. And even when he was still on his home planet, he never found something like that; to appear like a creature made out of the smoke.

He followed them through his cameras as they fought off stragglers and some fallen troops just lying around. He was kind of enjoying it that he felt his passions return as he saw their effort and struggle. No more of the same seesaw battle, it’s a blitz from now on, until they went through the last obstacle and rode a train.

He felt a bit relieved by this, but that was followed by a feeling of existential dread. He felt empty again, he wished he can send them on another run; but by then he would’ve been playing god. He sat on his table like a kid, thinking whether or not his decisions were sound. But now he just lied down like a middle schooler and slept.

He was satisfied.

***

Just as he was about to flick another page a pair of soft silky arms wrapped around his abdomen and grabbed him. The blank pages that proceeded from the last page flicked and the book fell. It was a nice book, no bigger than a notebook.

“It’s midnight, turn off the lights!” she said softly though with conviction.

“(Sigh…) okay! I’ll join you.” He spoke as he looked at the book now on the rug and decided to just play along. She kissed him on the neck as he lay on the bed. She then proceeded to playfully bite him near the cheek and made him react nervously.

“Hahaha, come on. I want some of your time.”

“I thought you wanted to sleep?”

“I need someone to help me sleep.”

“Alright!” He replied as he took off his belt and his trousers while looking at the book on the ground.

‘Maybe this morning?’ He thought as he jumped on the bed.