THE END OF BEGINNINGS

THIRTY-TWO

It was late and only getting later.  Moros stood alone on a balcony outside of the apartment.  He was tense and restless.  There was a nervous, anxious energy inside him blocking any hope of getting some sleep any time soon.  The feeling of chilling dread he sensed hanging over the city had not abated as the day had worn down into night.  If anything, Moros thought it had gotten worse. 
He stared out past the ornate railing surrounding the softly lit terrace.  The grand, endless ocean that covered most of the planet was as dark as space.  He couldn't even see the reflections of the stars on the slow, undulating waves from where he was standing.  There was just the city and the muted sky above, nothing else.  A few long, thin clouds stretched toward a far away horizon.  They looked like they had been painted on the faint backdrop of the twinkling cosmos.
Moros sighed.  He was hoping for some guidance that night, for some kind of sign or message to help calm his unease and guide his focus.  He was hoping to hear from his mother again, somehow.  His attempts to call out to her through his thoughts, to probe the invisible places between the walls and corridors, the railings of balconies, and the faint mist of sea spray in the air had, so far, proved useless.  He was alone.
Well, not really.  That was a feeling in his head.
Snoring softly behind him in a padded chair reclined against the back corner of the balcony was the lightly sleeping Denarus.  The son of Ulreg hadn't fallen asleep guarding Moros.  The older boy had already nodded off by the time Moros had stepped outside.  He figured Denarus was just more accustomed to sleeping upright and in the open air.  As Moros did his best to ignore the slumbering sounds of the older youth, keeping his mind's focus outward, he suddenly became aware of footsteps drawing lightly closer.  He barely flinched at all when Geras stepped out onto the balcony.
The tired man chuckled at the sight of Denarus, then joined his son at the railing.  Moros glanced to his right when his father came up beside him.  Geras looked at him warmly before turning his head to look out toward the black ocean.  Moros waited, then returned his own gaze toward the deep night beyond the city, but only for a moment.  He breathed and started to turn to face his father again.  Then he stopped.  His motion and the words he was ready to speak were halted by the sound of his father's voice piercing into his mind.
No, Geras said in his son's thoughts.  Just keep looking out toward the sea.
Moros hesitated, eyeing his father suspiciously before finally doing as he was told.
It is safe to assume we are being watched and monitored, Geras said, speaking directly into Moros' mind.  Do your best not to look conspicuous.
So there is danger, Moros asked without speaking.
Yes.  I do not yet know to what extent or where, exactly, the threat is coming from.
But you have your suspicions?
Yes.
Then I should come with you...on this trip you are going on with that man...Aronos.
Aronos Tal Do is exactly the reason you cannot go with me.  He is, very likely, at the heart of everything we sense.  The question unanswerable at this point is how far his tentacles have reached into Atlantis.
In such a short time?  I didn't think he'd been here much longer than ourselves.
There are times in life when it takes very little time-or effort-to turn a good thing bad.  Geras sighed at his own words.  The weight of them sat on his heart without mercy.
Moros didn't say anything for a moment.  He stared out into the breezy ebony of the night, his mind empty of any thoughts as he let his father's words sink in.  Finally, he asked, What do I do while you're gone?
Geras let himself grin subtly.  Do your very best to stay out of trouble.
That's not very helpful.
If something were to happen to you, that would not be very helpful.  I need you to stay alert and focused.  If you see anything suspicious, you are to get to the ship and report it to the council on Camrial immediately.  Geras paused, pulling his thoughts close.  He needed to get to the real reason he had come out onto the balcony.
Also, he started to say, reaching into the long, thin robe he was wearing.  While I should only be gone a day-two at the most-I need you to be ready to act if you do not hear from me or I do not return by the third day.
You anticipate something happening?
I anticipate the possibility.  And, if something does happen, it can only mean the beginning of something terrible that you, your sister, and your stepmother must be protected from.
Geras extended his arm, holding the soft, cloth bag he had kept tucked inside the robe.  Moros turned his head, eyeing the small parcel suspiciously.  What is that?
Take it, Geras instructed. It is a control crystal for the Pilgrim.  If the three days pass and you have not heard from me or I have failed to return, you are to leave Atlantis with absolute haste and return to Agan.
I don't need a control crystal for that, said Moros.
No, Geras agreed.  But, you are not to stay on Agan.  I'm sorry.  At this point, the situation is too dire.  You are to take our family and go...go far away from this place.  The control crystal is programmed to navigate the Pilgrim far from Atlantis' reach.
Moros stared at the soft bag in his father's open palm.  I'm...I'm not sure...
Take it, Geras said.  I am not asking you.
We can't leave you behind.
Geras waited for Moros to look up at him.  You won't be.  Please, son, do as I say.  You are the protector of everything we hold sacred now.  I need you to do this for me.
Moros stared into his father's eyes.  It wasn't an expression of anger or frustration he saw just then.  There was fear and unease in his father's features.  At least, there was for a moment.  As the seconds passed between them, Moros saw a proud tenderness in Geras' gaze.  Whatever stress Geras was feeling, he had quickly buried it under a thick layer of pride for his son.
Moros felt his fingers envelope the cloth of the small sack as he pulled it away from his father's hand.  Keep it safe, Geras said.  He put is hand on Moros' shoulder.  Hopefully, I'll be taking it back from you soon.

*         *         *

There was no sleep for either Aurallio that night.  All too soon, the first light of the day broke over the sea-swept horizon and the nearby mountains and cliffs of the slowly waking mainland.  The pink, golden light of the rising sun had just barely begun to stretch over the grand, central plaza and the small crowd gathered at its heart.  The warm rays reflected gently off the vibrating face of the activated stargate.  Moros watched from beside his father as the lights of the last symbol were locked into place.  The brilliant fissure of watery light exploded outward into the amphitheater.  Moros heard a sharp, quiet gasp from behind his right shoulder.  It was from Hasha.  The sight was still a new and surprising phenomenon for his best friend.
"Alright then," said Aronos Tal Do when the powerful fountain of energy had settled back into the shimmering, placid pool within the gateway.  "Are we ready to depart?"
Geras nodded once when Aronos looked back at him.
"Safe travels to all of you," Iohannus Lal said from the far side of the assembled crowd.  The other high councilors and various Atlantis officials were standing around him.  "May this journey mark an important first step in a brave new chapter of our great people and our legacy."
"May this journey see a survivable end," Toro Ras quipped near Geras' ear under the round of applause that followed Iohannus' words.
"Indeed," said Ulref, agreeing with the man standing beside him.
"After you," Geras said to Aronos, letting his voice project across the amphitheater.
"Of course," Aronos said with a smile.  "I am more than happy to lead the way."
Geras didn't react to his former friend.  He watched as Aronos and the youth he had called Danavic walked across the floor of the arena to the awaiting portal.  Geras' unease only increased as he watched the pale, wraith-like figure of the tall boy follow a step behind Aronos.  He didn't look away from them until the pair had disappeared into the gate.
Geras faced Moros, holding his son' gaze as the pair of Atlantis guards walked in step to the portal.  He nodded at his son, gripping his shoulder once more.  Moros stared back at his father.  He hesitated, but, finally, returned the gesture.  It was the best Moros could do to reassure him.  Geras smiled at his son before letting go of his shoulder and turning around to face the gate. 
Beside them, Ulref and Denarus tapped their foreheads together.  "I'll be seeing you soon.  Don't worry."
Denarus nodded against his father's brow.  Ulref clapped his son's shoulders then turned away to join Geras and Toro.  Moros watched the older boy beside him for a moment before turning his gaze in time to watch the three men step into the shimmering envelope.  The energized curtain burped softly around their bodies as they disappeared into the gateway.
Moros breathed out slowly as soon as they were gone.  He felt his heart beating heavily in his chest.  His eyes looked around, settling at last on Ganos.  Her dark hair contrasted her fair, softly glowing skin so beautifully in the dawn light.  He couldn't help but watch her for a long moment.  She was standing beside her father, looking away at something else.  Finally, she turned her gaze, meeting his.  They stared at each other knowingly, a strong sense of dread shared wordlessly across the oval arena.
A strange feeling inside of himself told Moros that whatever happened next was going to be up to them.