Black Halo

‘Such as?’

‘This world … I have difficulty comprehending it. The Nether is dull, of course, but it is logical. It makes sense. This one …’

‘What about it?’

‘I suppose I’m mainly concerned with everyone’s decision to do whatever they want.’

‘Expound?’

‘This is supposedly an island of death, yes?’

‘The war between Ulbecetonth’s brood and the House of the Vanquishing Trinity left the land scarred. The taint of death is embroiled in its very earth. Nothing pure grows here. Nothing pure lives here.’

‘I believe you said, originally, that nothing lived here, period.’

‘Did I?’ The Grey One That Grins smiled. ‘It likely seemed more dramatic at the time, the better to catch your interest. Apologies for the deception.’

‘Please, think nothing of it. My interest is certainly caught. But as we see, things do live here.’ He glanced down the beach. ‘Or did, anyway.’

The earth there was a place of deeper death than even the ruinous battlefield of the beach could match. The earth was seared black, still smoking in places. Mingled amongst the burned earth were shapes consisting of two arms and two legs, their bodies twisted into ash that flaked off with each stray gust of wind. They were scarcely distinct from the blackened earth, let alone as Those Green Things they had started life as.

‘Truth be told, they are among the source of my worries.’

‘Go on.’

‘They came down. They attacked me.’

‘You were on their land.’

‘Their land that nothing lives on.’

‘It was still theirs.’

‘But why? Why bother over such a land? Would it not make more sense to depart to a place where life persists?’

‘If you’ll recall, and I mean no disrespect in reminding you, they did have such a land. You repurposed it.’

‘Your generosity is obliged, but I take no offence in the common term.’ Sheraptus shrugged. ‘The netherlings required their land. We took it.’

‘And why did you take it?’

‘Because we are strong. They are weak. Why did they not simply flee from us?’

‘Ah, I begin to see your puzzlement. May I pose a theory?’

‘By all means.’

‘The term you seek is “symbiosis”.’

‘Sym … bi … osis,’ he sounded it out. A smile of jagged teeth creased his purple lips. ‘I like that word. What does it mean?’

‘It is the condition in which, through mutual cooperation, one life-form supports another.’

‘Ah, now I am further confused. You’ll have to pardon me.’

‘Not at all. Consider them …’ The Grey One That Grins gestured to the burned corpses.

‘Those Green Things,’ Sheraptus said, nodding. ‘Well, not so green anymore. What of them?’

‘They did not abandon their land until they had no choice, because to abandon their land would mean their death. They cultivate the land, feed their trees, guard their waters. In return, the land provides them with fruit and fish to feed off of.’

‘Mm,’ Sheraptus hummed. ‘One almost feels poorly for what we did to them.’

‘Almost?’

‘As I said, we required their land if we are to return your generous contributions.’

‘Please, don’t make any mistake. The Martyr Stones are our gift to you.’ His companion gestured to the crown. ‘You have used them wisely thus far. We trust that you will use them wisely in days to come.’

‘Trust …’ Sheraptus gazed skyward for a moment, his milk-white, pupilless eyes lighting up. ‘Ah. I believe I understand. Do you mind if I theorise?’

‘Oh, please do.’

‘Symbiosis is what you believe us to be. You give us these stones, you lead us to this new green world and in return …’

‘Go on.’

‘We kill the underscum. This … Kraken Queen of yours.’

‘You seem to grasp it quite well.’

‘Yet I remain puzzled.’

‘Oh?’

‘Indeed. I am told there is a bigger, vaster world beyond these chunks of sand floating in this … it’s called an ocean?’

‘It is and there are.’

‘A bigger, vaster world filled with more beasts, more birds, more trees and more people and all their vast multitudes of invisible sky-people.’

‘Gods.’

‘Another word for “stupid”.’

‘Agreed.’

‘And there are …’ He looked to his companion, smirked. ‘Females there?’

‘Many.’

‘Then why are Sheraptus and Arkklan Kaharn here on this desolate place? Why are we not out and learning more of this world?’

‘I did request your presence here.’

‘Ah. I suppose the question then becomes, why are we listening to you?’

His vision was painted red as the nethra surged through him. Crimson light leaked from his eyes, painting his companion as a dark blob against the ruby haze. The Martyr Stones in his crown blazed, the black iron they were set in growing warm with their response.

It had been the last sight Those Green Things had seen before they were reduced to ash. They had shrieked in their language, tried to crawl over each other to escape. The Grey One That Grins did not try to escape, though. The Grey One That Grins never moved unless he had to.

He thought he didn’t have to move.

Sheraptus made people move.

Sheraptus was not pleased.

‘Ah, but how would you make this world work for you?’

‘I’d find a way.’

‘You did not find a way to reach this world. It was our searching that discovered the Nether before we found heaven.’

‘Heaven does not exist.’

‘Many suspect it does.’

‘Then they are weak.’

‘Weakness rules this world, Sheraptus. They believe in things that they themselves do not understand. You cannot hope to understand it, either. Not without us.’

‘And what do you provide?’ Sheraptus asked, narrowing his fiery stare. ‘You send us on errands against the underscum. They are weak. The females hunger for greater fights.’

‘You suggested that they were dull for their hunger.’

‘What I said then and what I say now are different. I, too, tire of this pointless burning. The appeal of the Martyr Stones remains trivial, fleeting. I wish to know more of this land, and all I have discovered are useless relics from useless wars.’

‘May I dispute?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t.’