HAVEN STORIES

Brittle

If only I could just run away from it all.

I stroll across the Palace greenhouse balcony facing the Northern Sea many kilometers below me. The afternoon Sun glinting through the overhead glass panels, casting simmers of light across moist greenery. The smell is poignant. Like the forests of old I used to sprint through as a child playing little games and making adventures with friends. Time to leave.

The chill air so high up the Palace stabs me to the bones, but I do not feel it. The view is beautiful and that's why I always come up here at least once a day. Many of my staff say it's to think. Like I need space from people to contemplate situations and scenarios that may befall Humanity. They could be talking to me and I could pretend they don't exist. Although, it is getting hard now to remain on the same plane. My time is coming, and that's the only truth I cannot hide from myself.

As I look out across the Master City stretching to the coastal ports below, I see the Adrius Intelligence Bureau spearing into the cloud layer. Such a structure of power. I wonder how many know that it was named after a good friend of mine. The name now spelled and pronounced differently from time distorting our language.

I cannot look upon my lands without being reminded of what I have lost.

The vibration coming from my shoulder-mounted comm tells me I am being once again requested to attend some pathetic gathering or party. What a waste of time. To shake hands, smile bright for the transmitters and to say "all is well".

Yet, that is what I must do.

It is as if by removing the tyrants of our race the world itself has become our next oppressor.

I cannot be sad, for I am the pillar of strength that our species holds onto for support.

I cannot be angry, for I am the Judge and the Deliverer, absolving all conflict.

I cannot cry, for it is weakness that cannot exist within the legendary Hero of Old.

The wind pulls back my long, dirty brown hair from in front of my face. The Sun searing down warms my beard that has covered the lower half of my head. I truly am an older man now. I'm sure that my appearance is what people would expect of such an old being.

I feel older still.

Putting my hands against the ancient stone railing, it's like I am pushing against the weight of the universe. No longer do I feel safe far above the world in my towering castle. The end is coming soon, but I have so much more to do.

"Hark."

Only one man would be comfortable enough to use my original name.

"Luca Bronson, it is good to see you," I say to the Hero of Light and my shadow, "I did not expect to see you up here."

He wastes no time with formalities. "Speak freely, Hark. You are my sire, but you are my most trusted friend. Over the years you have become more and more distant. I used to read your thoughts straight from your face, like a pool of clear water you can see to the bottom. Now... Now you are like a pool of tar; a void so dark I cannot grasp a single emotion."

I go back to staring across the sea past the skyscrapers and transport ships landing on a thousand different loading pads. So much motion, so much noise. It is like a distant thunder that won't subside. A storm of man and machine ready to burst forth and shatter the stars.

"It has become harder."

That's all I can manage.

Bronson stands next to me, his face stoic, but concern in his eyes. The fact that he genuinely cares hurts me so much more. "What has become harder?"
"Being me."

How could I possibly explain?

Physically, emotionally, mentality, spiritually.

"I see. Well, we cannot become discouraged from the burden of authority. There is a world of decisions out there and I can understand-"

"DAMN IT, LUC! It is getting harder and harder to remain within our dimension. I will eventually be incapable of not ascending our realm. Each month now it requires more and more energy just to input and observe sensory information in the world. I will go beyond soon. Forget the pain of memories, the tirade of the Past and the haunting horrors of the wars we've brought to an end at the end of our bloody blades. Whatever you call it, rebirth, ascension, it's all the same. I am dying!"

I think he knew. There are not many Heros left alive. I'm sure there are more out there sleeping, unaware of their potential, but those that do exist in the service of Haven have mostly come and gone. Luca Bronson still looks young, a man in his late thirties. Even though I am "younger" than him, visually I look at least fifty years old. Nevermind that we have been around since the 2nd Era of our world's history some seven millennia ago. The changes have been obvious to him. Not so much those who live only a fraction of that time.

I cannot bear to look at him. I have never shown so much vulnerability since the desperate times of the Machine Wars. If I do, I know I will cry. Wasted water streaming from eyes that have looked upon a thousand battles and seen the deaths of a million dictators.

The silence extends between us as we both watch the ships coming and going. Shoulder to shoulder, two giants against the rising tides. The beacons of Hope.

I flinch from a sudden hand clapping my back. "We're all dying, Hark. One day, this Palace will be dust and all dreams of Man will be gone. One day...

Not today. We are here, now. The Sun is alive and gives us warmth. The plants in that garden thrive and have rays of food, and will for some time. One day, the Sun too will die. All the lights in the sky will go out and all matter will crumble into the ocean of black. All will fade and cease to be. All that will remain is Time. With Time, as long as it continues moving forward, all things have the potential to happen. Chance and change. All things change and move on, so too will our universe. It is inescapable. We fear it because we are alive. It is the nature of all living organisms to be afraid of death-"

"You are wasting your time. I already know. I'm not afraid of death..."

A raging river of emotion overcomes me and for the first time in thousands of years my fortress gate opens to let it out.

"I'm going to miss who I have left."

Before I know it, my chin is resting on his shoulder as he embraces me.

"I'll miss ya too, buddy. Come on now, we're fine."

My vision blurs from the tears.

"I, I don't want to go. The world is- the world is so heavy, but it's all I've known. These brothers and sisters I've found. I don't want to leave them."

"I know, Hark. You formed this brotherhood out of necessity, but it has become family. For the first time in my life I feel as if I belong here. Our Chapter of Heroica, the C.O.D., none of it felt like home. You gave us this home. You took us in and showed us not only how to fight, but how to live. No one else has done that for me."

Short gasps escape me as I close my eyes, clenching a fist into Bronson's back.

"Was... Was it enough, Luc? Did I do enough? Even if one day we will be dust...

Will it be enough? Have I changed the world?"

"It was enough for me. It was enough for those you saved. For each person you've affected, you've changed the world for them. That is enough."