It was an alien concept to me, as alien as Hazel was. Then perhaps, by that logic, as an alien, I could treat her differently to the way I treated Titans?
I reached out a hand and gently placed it on her arm.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said.
She didn’t flinch at the touch of my hand. Instead, she took comfort in it.
I place my other hand on her other arm, and again, she didn’t flinch. Hugging her from this angle was awkward. Her legs were in the way and it would have seemed strange.
She seemed so small sitting there.
A single human on this world, alone, forced into a war-like situation that should have had nothing to do with her.
I moved around her, sat down, and wrapped my arms around her from behind.
I placed my legs on either side and made sure my crotch was pulled back from her.
“What are you doing?” she said.
She looked at me cautiously over her shoulder but didn’t stop me.
I wrapped my arms around her and placed my chin on her shoulder.
She accepted the warmth.
I gently rocked us side to side. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was acting on instinct. I had never done anything like this before.
And then I surprised myself. I began to sing.
It was a low hum in the back of my throat. She must have felt the vibrations on her back but she didn’t complain. It was a song of mourning and loss, for all those who had perished.
All those I had failed.
Hazel stopped crying and sniffing. She placed her hand on mine. Then she hummed along with me. The vibrations she sent through my body were a tiny tremor compared to my gushing river. So delicate, so beautiful. Her tune altered and we sang together, forming a duet of sadness.
I shut my eyes and images of the past hour or more fluttered through my mind.
The tragic deaths.
And the fallen.
Hazel sniffed through her blocked nose. Then she wiped away the tears from her eyes and nodded.
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “It’s those damn Changeling things. They came here and did whatever they wanted. Where was the Titan military? Where were the defenses? If the Titan empire is so mighty, so powerful, why did they sit by and do nothing?”
Her words stung. The truth was, this was my fault. I was the one who made the decisions. I was the emperor. I was supposed to protect the people.
And I had failed.
I had failed in my duties today as much as I had my entire life. Somehow, the Changelings slipped under the radar, somehow they had found a chink in our armor, and exploited it to full effect.
The emperor was supposed to protect his people.
Instead, I let them down.
But I would not let Hazel down.
Our mourning song came to a close.
How long did we sing?
Five minutes? Twenty?
I had no idea.
But when I opened my eyes, I felt a little refreshed. The memories would stay with me forever but at least now I could begin to mourn those that had lost their lives, and the countless others on hundreds of other colonies spread throughout the empire.
“That was beautiful,” Hazel said.
“The fallen will be avenged,” I said.
I was surprised at the certainty in my voice.
Hazel peered over her shoulder at me. When she looked at me like that, with that quirk to her lips and a gleam in her eye, I felt like I could do anything.
“Is that what we’ll do when we get to the Fallen Temple?” she said.
“From there, the tribes will meet up, and we’ll formulate a plan of attack,” I said. “This is our land. This is our home. They cannot take it from us so easily.”
Hazel’s smile broadened. She sniffed and wiped a hand under her nose.
“Then we’d better get going,” she said. “The sooner we get to this Fallen Temple, the sooner we can kick these Changelings’ ass.”
I released her and got to my feet.
She dusted off her pants and had grown in confidence.
“Lead the way,” she said.
We marched through the forest, on our way to redemption and light.
And a whole lot of revenge.
We didn’t stop for another hour. We trudged through the dense forest, darkness pressing in on us. We supported each other. She helped me with my weakened leg and I helped her stay upright and not collapse with exhaustion.
“Just a little further,” I said.
It kept her going. But I secretly knew that every time I said that, it was a lie.
There would be no end to our running. Not until we reached the Fallen Temple on the other side of the forest.
Finally, with sweat dripping down our faces and our limbs aching to high heaven, we came to a stop at a small clearing. It was lit by moonlight that streamed through the open canopy above our heads. A brook ran through the middle of it. The water looked clean but that meant nothing.
Sometimes the most dangerous things were those that looked the safest.
I had to drink it or risk dying from dehydration. I bent down and scooped it up with my hand.
Hazel dropped to her knees beside me. I blocked her from touching it.
“Wait,” I said. “Let me see if it’s clean.”
“You’re sick,” she said. “I should be the one to test it.”
“You’re not from here. It might be more harmful to you than me.”
It didn’t taste foul and I felt no negative effects. It was, to my senses at least, clean. I gave Hazel a nod.
She slurped the water into her mouth hungrily. She drank so much I thought she might run the brook dry.
“We need to get out of these wet clothes,” Hazel said.
Out of these wet clothes… and
