Sky of Obsidian

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. The ghosts of our ancestors would disagree. Screams are all we hear. Screams in the present and screams from the past. A thousand years ago our ancestors made the harrowing journey through space and across the cosmos to preserve what was left of humanity. No help was found from neighboring planets so their voyage took them further than ever deemed feasible, but due to new innovations and the speed of light, technology made it so. The old world was destroyed due to nuclear warfare, making what was left of the planet uninhabitable. After the news leaked, the panic set in, waters became contaminated, trees could no longer grow and animals perished and turned to dust. No one knows if those left behind survived. But I'd like to think something regrew from it all.

Those lucky enough made it aboard The Avalon Frontier and had a chance at a new life. To rebuild what was left of the human race and their lineage. The Avalon was designed as a golden ember, beacon of hope, during the dark times that fell after the war. It flew across the galaxy like a golden arrow and landed in the heart of this planet. Built as an island within itself, it was a vessel made to carry its passengers across the universe to a new world. Still standing proudly in The Capital today, its golden frame can be seen from every corner of the city and serves as a reminder to the citizens. I remember hearing stories as a little girl. Of the brave soldiers who served for generations until the ship landed in the New World, the ferocious Captain Ramus who commanded the ship until his death 50 years into the journey, and of those who went mad on-board as a result of scurvy. Unforeseen, but the lack of vitamins and sunlight had a catastrophic effect. The rumors told around campfires are that those who fell victim to the madness were flushed off-ship. Their bodies left to float in the abyss. They say you can still hear the echo of their cries if you listen hard enough. 500,000 people boarded The Avalon Frontier in the year 2245, and 350,000 made the journey to the new world. Their journey brought them here, to the planet of Alderon.

Standing guard at my post on the wall of The Capital, I hear a whistle to my left. Glancing over my shoulder I see my best friend Lance, saunter over in his standard olive green militant combat gear. 6'4" of pure muscle, gangly as a kid but he grew into his build over the last couple of years. All the ladies have their eyes on him now, and boy does he know it. Smug ass. With his blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and killer smile he has them wrapped around his little finger. But not me. I knew the punk since he was in diapers. Tugging on my auburn braid as if we were still kids, he takes a stand at my side and faces out into the open, looking out beyond the wall.

"Mauve, your shift was over an hour ago. What are you still doing here?", he says giving me a side eye, his tone chiding, after the third time he's called me out this week for doing overtime, and its only Wednesday.

"They're coming tonight Lance. I can feel it". 'They' being the Nightcrawlers. We know when they come. Like a shadow falling across the night sky. The stars blocked from view in an endless sea of black. The first telltale sign is the sound of silence. Eerie in its solitude. Mothers and Fathers hold their breaths and children hide behind closed doors, waiting for the piercing screams in the distance. The screams of those who have been chosen to be sacrificed to the Nightcrawlers. Feeling his gaze look down on me from above, I maintain a steady eye on the horizon, up here you can never lose focus.

"You always feel it. But it's not only your job to keep watch. We're a team. Go home Mauve". Speaking as the son of the commander, but also my friend, I know he wants what's best for me. But being Guard of the wall is my civic duty. It is my job to protect those who need it. I can't just sit idly by when I know they are coming.

"I won't be able to sleep anyway, so I may as well keep you company. Can't go sleeping on the job again now can you Lance", I say giving him a playful nudge on his bicep.

Lance looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is listening before he replies, "God Mauve, that was one time two years ago! Are you ever going to let it go?".

"Not in this lifetime".

Giving a shake of his head, and a role of his eyes, we settle into a silent stance, our vapor guns firmly in our grips, ready for any stir in the night. There matte black veneer camouflaged in the darkness. The sound of the wind and the nodding donkeys spread out across the dry desert ground are the only sounds at this cold hour. The landscape is flat for several miles until you reach the first few trees of the forest. Behind the thicket, are mountains and valleys that shape this planet. The shadows of the nodding donkeys can be seen bobbing up and down, working tirelessly day in and day out to fuel Alderon and keep it alight. Made just like the pump-jacks from the old world, whereas in the old world it was oil we would pump to the surface, here we withdraw a luminescent azure blue liquid from the earth. Used as a fuel to power our motors and light our city, it's blue glow can be seen throughout the night in every home and building in The Capital. That substance we call Alithium.

Lance breaks our silence "I hear Caleb's gotten himself into trouble again".

"Caleb's always in trouble. I keep telling him to be careful".

"He needs to watch his back, especially if he wants to keep his post working out on the field". Taking his words for what they are, a warning, I think of my brother. As an engineer for The Capital, he has a vital job, working on the pump-jacks, to make sure they keep a steady flow of Alithium. He has always been smart and good with numbers, and at 16 he started his apprenticeship to work on the field and worked his way up. At 16 he also found his way to the roulette table and started counting cards. Mother thinks that working the alithium field is his only source of income, but I know he has resigned himself to more nefarious means.

A shuffling of a fellow guard can be heard from time to time, making rotations as we guard our posts. It's been another hour, with no disturbance. There are many dangers to look out for beyond the wall. The nightcrawlers for one, the Damalians, and those who have been banished and sent to join the outer colonies. We call those ones the Rebels. Those banished often find smaller colonies to join, but they always come back, either to try to sneak back in if outer life doesn't suit them, to steal contraband, or to attempt to get their hands on Alithium. The Capital is and has always been, the only city with power fueled by Alithium. The smaller tribes want to get their hands on it, to build their own cities to rival our own. But the governors would never allow it. Out there they are vulnerable, and if the Nightcrawlers have their sights set on them, they leave The Capital alone. For the most part. A couple of times the Rebels have been close and have had a batch in their possession, but they never get far.

The Damalian's though, well no one has seen them for years. A decade even. They were the native tribe when we came to this planet. A primitive yet peaceful clan. They stood at 7 feet in height and were said to be a worthy foe for the nightcrawlers. With their advanced speed and night vision, they were built to withstand this planets animosities and all that it threw at us. Battles broke out though over the years after our arrival, once they discovered our purpose for Alithium. Sacred to them but vital to us. The peace we had became strained. No one has seen a Damalian in a long time. Some say they abandoned this planet long ago, some say they went to ground and are in hiding and will someday return to wreak havoc and take back what was once theirs. I've been trained for this though. Damalian or Nightcrawler. I'll be ready for them.

Suddenly the sky darkens above our heads and I hear the first screech of the Nightcrawlers above. Lance sounds the alarm, three horns blaring to warm anyone out of their beds to take shelter, and I yell to our fellow guards, "Nightcrawlers, take position". Lance and I quickly take a crouch by the wall, guns aimed at the sky, ready for if they dive down towards the city. The Nightcrawlers drink blood. Human, animal, it doesn't matter to them, blood is blood after all. Once they've fed, they settle for a time, and all is quiet- until they are hungry again. One bite won't kill, but if you get swarmed by multiple, then you won't survive. Flying at a speed so fast, like a blur, bullets won't stop them. Like bats but much bigger... and meaner. They were the downside our ancestors first discovered when they came to Alderon. The vapor from our weapons are fatal to the Nightcrawlers, made from particles of the Alithium, harmless to us, but our only defense against them. "You ready Mauve?", Lance whispers next to me, "I'm always ready", I say with confidence. Finger on the trigger, I wait with bated breath. All the guards are silent, waiting to see if a battle will break out. A month ago they swooped down on the city and a group of five lifted a man into the air and just like that, he was gone. That was the first time I'd seen their strength firsthand. "Come on you bastards", Lance mutters, wanting to take out as many as he can. No today though. The swarm flies over past The Capital, we're lucky this time. I watch their shadow fly into the distance seeking out prey, faintly you can hear the cries of those beyond the walls, beyond our protection. Standing up strait, Lance and I look to one another, and retake position. "Until next time", he mutters.

The shadows fade as they feed across Alderon, seeking easy prey. Lance and I stand and wait. Always, in case they make a one eighty and come back our way. That's happened before. They try different tactics. A sense of guilt always follows when the Nightcrawlers descend on the land. That's what keeps me up at night. Knowing that there are people out there who are the unlucky ones.

Below us I hear the creak of the gates opening. It's 6am now, and we know what's to come when we hear the gates unlatch. A steady stream of people can be seen escorted out of the safety of the Capital. Three people to be exact, surrounded by the armed Troopers. They march in all black as silent soldiers of the city. Their visors cover their eyes so you never see their faces. Designed to protect them from the harsh elements, but also to maintain anonymity. You know when you, or someone you love, has been chosen for exile. The Troopers appear at your door to take them to the gates, where they open and send them beyond the protection of The Capital. As armed police, the Troopers work for the governors and maintain order in the streets of our colony. What the governors say, goes. Three strikes and you're out. I remember the day my father was taken away by the Troopers. I'd just turned eight when they came for him. He'd lost his position as city clerk and fell to drink. A bottle of bourbon every night. That was his, and our families downfall. Mother doesn't like to talk about it. But my brother Caleb and I remember it like it was yesterday. Caleb was fifteen at the time, and it fell to him to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. I watch those being banished and think of my father. Of what happened to him. They have a day to find shelter before darkness descends. Most search for protection from the smaller colonies beyond the wall. The luck of your survival may depend on the group you find... or who finds you. Some are tribes built from deserters, and some are those who are found unworthy to be in The Capitals protection. The three being escorted tonight are all in single file, hands cuffed together in front of them and will remain that way until they reach the treeline. The first is walking at a steady pace, a planner. They are preparing for what lies ahead. The second is dragging his feet and can be seen pleading with the Trooper to his right. He will get no answer. And the third is walking at a slower pace, someone elderly by the looks of it, glancing over his shoulder from time to time. There's no way back for them now, and out of the three, only the first will survive.

As we watch them being marched into the distance the rain starts to drizzle, looking up to the sky, the heavy storm clouds that have blown overhead are looking ready for a downpour. "It's going to be a bad one," I say with a grimace to Lance as we make our way to the Guard station as the rain pelts heavier and heavier. The second thing our ancestors learnt from arriving on this planet- the weather is drastic and unpredictable. Blazing desert heat one minute, and a frozen ice shower the next. The guard station is only a few paces from our post so we make a quick dive before we get soaked through. "Just in time", Nathaniel, the always optimistic tower guard on duty says, as he passes us each a thermostat of boboa tea. A natively grown plant that warms you from the inside, always needed in an ice storm. The root is used to make all sorts of teas and remedies. We all hunker down, tea in hand, and wait for the hailstorm to pass. Outside it hails rocks of ice, like fragments of glass, splintering against the window of the tower. If you were caught out in an ice hail storm you'd face a hundred tiny cuts again your skin. I look out to those people fading into the distance and hope they find shelter fast. Nathaniel enthusiastically tells us about his latest sprout of boboa that he grows in his pantry as Lance and I nod along and sip the steaming hot beverage.

As the sun starts to rise at 7:00am, the rain has slowed to a dimming spray. Nathaniel is still talking about his plants, "...and then I decided to add extra moisture to the soil, and the difference it made...".

"Fascinating, Nathaniel. Really it is". Lance says sarcastically with his feet propped up again the banister running along the wall, not that he noticed.

"And have you tried the red lentil variety..?", Nathaniel leans forward not catching on to Lances fading interest. Not that it was there in the first place.

Butting in before he continues, "Right, that's me done boys", I say clapping my hands together and rising from my stool by the window, ready to head home for a much needed sleep. As I reach for the door handle to exit the tower, it bursts open and Mabel appears, cheeks red and flushed from excursion. She must have run a mile, she was supposed to be on duty half an hour ago, late as usual. "Blimey, Mabel, what's got you doing a sprint? Can't be your shift can it?". I say in good humor, I've known Mabel as long as I've known Lance, we all went to school together, and she's always notoriously late. She's also Nathaniel's twin sister. If the mannerisms don't clue you in, then the untamable corkscrew curls do.

"Mauve, I've just heard, you'll never believe it. I couldn't believe it! I was walking over to check in at my post when I saw Rob and when he told me I came straight here! Straight here! I said I have to find Maeve right away".

"Okay, deep breaths. What do you have to tell me?"

Maeve, they've banished some more people tonight, you must come quick-". She says making a grab for my hand.

"We already know; we saw them being escorted out. 6am, like clockwork". I butt in.

"No, you don't understand-", she says panting in between words.

"Spit it out Mabel, what's going on?"

"It's Caleb!" She says eyes wide.

Taken aback, I process her words. Then look out of the tower window to the fading shadows miles in the distance. My brother fading into the distance. We all looked out in mirrored horror.

"No, Caleb".