The Heart of Oleta

Going Home

                                                                      The Great Pillars of Overkon

"What did you do, mama?"

"I spoke without thinking."

"Ah, Terranial." Human-like.

"I'd prefer if you didn't classify an entire species like that. You forget they are your people too."

"I am not a Terran. I've not even seen Terra."

"It's called Earth for those who make home on it. And you have not, because I have been imprisoned here on Oleta. You are only half Oletan."

"They raise me as one of their own."

"Yes, and they embrace you, they love you dearly. They loved me like that. They embraced me like that once before." He is silent for a moment.

"Do they not love you anymore because of my dad?" She shoots back quickly with a countering question.

"What do you know of your father?"

"Nothing, you won't tell me anything." His thoughts are puzzling, she can see it as his irises flicker in and out of green and orange. It was common for Oletan eyes to shimmer while thinking, but not in the green color that marked him strongly as human. This color and the way he walks, not glides, were the only evidence of his human blood. If you were to just look at him, he looked full blooded Oletan. His tanned skin and agile features, especially his eyes. They were the same as his father's: a tiger orange with flecks of honey. Brighter than any other Oletan's-

"Teacher says you betrayed us," his voice rings loudly in the silence, "and that's why you are locked here. Because you're too dangerous to let away." The words are piercing as she remembers. She realizes he's staring at her now. Tears brim in her eyes so she sighs and turns away. But he continues. "Our books say you started Yval ne Sylvan. Why, why would you do such a terrible thing?" Scenes filled with blood and echoing screams flash through her mind. She feels her throat tighten and she pushes down the memory. Despite her son raising his voice, the images stay the same volume. The smell of fear. Cries of desperation. She holds herself, the images settling behind her eyes. "You must know what they would've done, you know what the Terrans are." She stands and stumbles away, the words are like daggers. The guilt is making her head spin. She shakes her head lethargically. A note of desperation seems to enter his voice now. And for a moment, he sounds just like his father when he learned of her betrayal. "Alotasian, why have you forsaken our people?" She can't see her son, only his father.

"You don't understand!" She cries, the memories drive her to her knees, crippling her with the weight. Her heart agonizes. The accusation, the remorse, the betrayal. She sees his face, the face of her lover, torn open, blank, gaping at everything and nothing. She whimpers at the memory and shakes her head hard. The image can't be shaken, it is seared into her mind. She throws her palms against her temples. It wasn't her fault but no, it was only possible because of her. "I'm so sorry!" She screams. It's not enough. He can't hear her, he was already dead. Even if it was not her intention, it only happened because of her. Even though she dearly loved these people, and even though she begged for them to be spared, she was not powerful enough. She had been too scared, too selfish; Yval ne Sylvan was all her fault. Through clenched teeth she sucks in calming breaths. "Please..." she begs with a hushed voice. "Archeleas, you don't understand." He gives no sympathy.

"Would you hurt us again? If we were to let you go, would you bring them back?"

"No, never!" She cries out to him, as if looking to convince him. As if he knew just how much they had lost because of her. "Elea, please, come to me. I want you to understand that not all of our people are bad. I need you to understand that mother did everything she could. I need you to understand how much I love Oleta. I am not so different from you, just give me a chance to explain." She holds out her arms, waiting for her boy to come into them. But he only stares. As time wears on, the shackles become lead, dragging her desperate hands towards the ground. "Archeleas," she pleads.