The Darkest Dawn

Chapitre 7

Educated slaves aren't taught the history of their own human culture, they are taught the history of Seivohn culture. Unsurprisingly, there were many wars amongst themselves over various matters. What was surprising was the amount of likeliness they hold to humans. It is unsure if that makes them more terrifying or less. However, that is not the point of this break. Since humans are not taught about their ancestors and how they lived (other than lessons concerning Seivohns despising human actions on the surface), they must seek out their history by finding historical books about humans. This would be difficult since Seivohn have dubbed the books useless and carelessly threw them away.

There are absolutely no books documenting the most handsome men of all time, however. Multiple lists of that category were cataloged on the humans of the Third Millennium's (the 2000's) favorite obsession, the internet. A technology that broke walls and pointed at a future that both scared and excited human civilization. Many doors were opened, even ones that perhaps should have stayed closed. If it still existed today, here's what one list would entail:

Number thirty on the list is Claude Monet. The famous painter was well known all the way until the eighth century in the Third Millennium. He was depicted to have a thick unruly beard and a stern dark eyed stare. Skip ten ranks, and we have Robert de Montesquiou at number twenty. This tall man had a curly mustache and a pointed nose. He most likely should have been below Monet. At a well deserved sixteen for his mysterious and brooding appearance is Nestor Kukolnik, a Russian playwright. The rest of the list is not noteworthy. Luckily, there are other lists to inspect.

There are no lists to inspect nowadays however since the Seivohns destroyed the internet, saying it was unnecessary [they were jealous how humans had invented it first and Seivohns had yet to emerge from mid Second Millennium style and technology]. Each man (and woman) has their list, and here are the results:

Lucien's list: 4)Audie, 3)Regina, 2)Malachai, 1)Darius.

Audie's list: 4)Darius, 3)Malachai, 2)Rhaelra, 1)Lucien.

Malachai's list: 3)Audie, 2)Darius, 1)Lucien.

Darius' list: 2)Malachai, 1)Lucien.

Take from this however you want, these are the current standings. It is curious that Seivohn have their own listings of what they consider beautiful in the form of the Pageants. Interestingly enough, the end of the Pageant (the bloody fight to the death) was in fact inspired by The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (written in the early Third Millennium), the only book trilogy by a human Seivohns enjoy. The death match is not for human's reminder of the war however, rather for the Seivohn to enjoy watching slaves tear each other apart.

The mind and personality of Seivohn are complex, yet not as complex as humans. In the Third Millennium, humans began to expand their factories and extract more oil from the Earth. Approaching the eighth century, oil ran dry and humans dug deeper. With their technology developing everyday, they were able to dig very far down. The Seivohns, who up until now coexisted peacefully, grew fearful their homes were to be destroyed by the reckless humans.

When the Seivohn first surfaced, they were unsure what to make of their neighbors on the surface. Some believed they were the angels of God, tending to the Earth until the day the Seivohn were ready to colonize the surface. Others despised them, and believed them to be vermin, like rats or ants. Then there were those who feared them to be aliens from another planet (it would explain their technology!). Emperor Urkregk met with one of the many leaders these strange creatures had.

It's been two millennia, but here is what present Seivohn currently believe: Emperor Urkregk met with a human leader. The wise Emperor saw humans for the power hungry monsters they were. The Emperor declared war on the surface and enslaved them. The Emperor was a hero! Today, Seivohn live comfortably because of him.

War is a long and miserable period of time. World War III was particularly dragging and sufferably agonizing. Although the surface's weapons were superior, Seivohn did not use weapons. Seivohn are vicious in a way where they can sharpen their tendrils to slice through anything. Between ripping bullets and mutilating tendrils, World War III turned into the longest and bloodiest war in history. Pools of black mixing with red stained battlefields. Constant struggle between subterranean and surface raged on. The sun rose to the early Fourth Millennium and Seivohn loomed, victorious.

Monsters. A child fears monsters in the dark. Monsters with twisted horns and multiple eyes. Monsters. Man fears monsters in the dark. Monsters black as night with curling tendrils. Monsters. Seivohn fear monsters in the night. Monsters with eyes, skinny stick bodies and glistening teeth.

Malachai shot up from the bedroll. He glanced around in the dark, searching. The singing of crickets filled the chilly air, along with frogs and owls. "Sers?" He asked the night. The trees towered above him menacingly, yet this was not what frightened him. There was a pale man, brushing his moonlit white hair.

"Sleep, Malachai." The ghost whispered, almost silencing the forest with his deep ethereal tone.

His voice was familiar, and the young boy relaxed. "I can't, ser." He whimpered. "I had a nightmare." Darius turned to stare at Malachai, dark blue like tidal waves gently crashing over him.

"I did too." Darius replied, a quiet hurt lacing his words. Malachai watched the angelic man crawl over Lucien, who had slumbered holding Malachai close. Darius sat with legs criss crossed and scooped Malachai into his lap. "We mustn't wake Lucien. He's sleeping wonderfully for once." Darius hummed, smiling.

"Does Lucien get a lot of nightmares?" Malachai asked.

"Mhm." Darius hummed.

Malachai placed a small hand on Lucien's face, feeling his smooth and warm tan skin. "He's very handsome. I wish he was my father, then I'd look more like him." There was silence from Darius. The two watched Lucien sleep, steady breaths causing his chest to rise and fall evenly. Malachai withdrew his pale hand which contrasted with Lucien's latino complexion.

"What was your nightmare?" Darius inquired, curious.

"Monsters." Malachai simply said.

"Monsters? What kind...?" The man prodded, worried.

"The regular kind. The ones that look like us, and the ones that look like them. They look like everyone else and that's what makes them scary." Malachai responded, studying Lucien's brown curly hair. He looked at himself, at the bruises on his arms and legs. He twisted to look at Darius. "What about you?"

Darius blinked at him with a blank expression before looking away sadly. "I dreamed of losing someone." Malachai rested his head into Darius' broad chest and wrapped his small arms around the man's torso. The embrace made Darius' lips curl upward and hug the small boy back, careful not to crush him.

The morning sun glared over the horizon, through the trees. Malachai opened his eyes to discover no one was sleeping next to him with an arm draped over his body. He sat up, stiff muscles stretching and tangled black hair falling over his eye. The boy felt immensely tired, yet better rested than he has ever felt in years. He took a better look at his surroundings and saw Lucien bent over, placing belongings into a burlap sack. Malachai watched as the man worked in awe. Lucien's ragged shirt dipped slightly, and Malachai's eyes widened. Long misshapen scars cut through natural curves. There were scars shaped like nicks dotting Lucien's chest. Malachai touched his own chest, riddled with it's own map of abuse and neglect. Lucien's scars looked deeper, and far more dreadful than Malachai's. The boy felt his face burn with guilt for all the times he cried over his own body. Of course there were others out there suffering far more than he.

Traveling with these men, Malachai found himself watching Lucien far more often than not. Lucien was kind to him and never raised his voice. He was patient with Malachai and let the boy learn his own pace and made things easier when situations were hard. Malachai found himself no longer wishing Lucien was his father, because Lucien already was.