Facing The Sun

In Order To Survive

Desperation is logic's worst enemy. And, when joined by fear, a lethal weapon it can become.

To take logic out of the mind's equations is to take the intellect out of an intelligent being. Or, in other words, our ability to think clearly, and avoid rash decisions. Above all else, survival is put first and foremost in the coding of our neuro pathways—and so when the mind feels threatened, when it feels helpless, desperation is what it turns to. Adrenaline. Animalistic behavior, paying no mind to the revolutionary adaptations made that define us intelligent species.

In short, it is thought to be the root cause of Versaii genocide. Their planet, Utice, was invaded out of the desperation of another species—who extinguished life on their own planet.

The Versaii people were known to be friendly—they welcomed outsiders. So when the Deralma landed on Utice with their ill-intent, it was a massacre.

- Zenith Arraly, The Elaborate History of Space Travel

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Vedrith knew she hadn't been a good person lately, but moons—she really had not been a good person lately.

After sitting in the alley for who knows how long, Ivis finally got to the 'and then I met you' part of her story—allowing Vedrith to truly reflect on just how much of an asshole she had been to her. And Vedrith was sure that Ivis was leaving out certain parts given her definition of what a 'minor' detail was—which by the way, had always, and without fail, felt major to Vedrith.

For instance, Ivis said she almost died when she and her mother were attacked—but it was fine, because she lived. Oh, and how she apparently believed that most of it was her fault—or that she was in the wrong. Again, not minor.

"You seriously don't think that, do you?" Asked Vedrith as soon as she was sure Ivis had nothing more to add.

Ivis looked at Vedrith, confused. "...What do you mean?" She said after a few seconds had passed by.

"Do you really believe that any of that was your fault?" Vedrith rephrased, choosing her words with careful precision. "Ivis, you didn't do any of that because you felt like it—or out of some sinister desire—you did that to survive. They would have killed you had you not killed them first. They would have killed a kid. Why should you feel guilty?" She said, trying her very best to sound gentle.

Ivis looked away, sighing. "How can I not feel guilty?" Answered Ivis, glancing down at her hands. She squeezed them into fists, and met Vedrith's eye again. "Have you ever had to kill anyone before?"

Vedrith opened her mouth to speak, but paused. She could see the point Ivis was making. "...No." She mumbled. "I've had to fight people before, on certain missions—but I don't think anyone has died because of an injury I gave them." Vedrith ran a hand through her hair, gathering her thoughts. "That still doesn't mean it's your fault, though."

"But it is, Vedrith. I killed them. I watched as life was dragged away from their eyes, from their limbs—I watched as their movements went from precise, to slow and sluggish, and until they eventually stopped moving at all. All because of me."

Ivis spoke barely above a whisper, her voice shaky. Lightly, Vedrith placed a hand on her shoulder, and leaned forward.

"Ivis, did you ask to be brought to that arena?" Spoke Vedrith, matching Ivis's volume with a soft tone.

Ivis shook her head. "You know I was forced."

"Did you ask to fight them?"

"No."