Eon

Chapter 11

Carson made his way towards the treeline of the forest as he had done many times since coming to Far-Sky. The trees of violet and the bushes and ferns with their brilliant shapes welcomed the alien into the fold. Carson had slowly become accustomed to the many intricacies of Eon. He now knew his way through the dirt roads of the Cheson city and he was aware of the animals that hunted during the night. Even his circle of fruits, vegetables, and flowers were brimming with a vibrancy that impressed the native farmers who had worked with the soil for all their lives.

The Insurgent melded with the forest and become one with it. The sky was clear and the animals were displayed in full force, the myriad of different shapes and sounds bringing forth life in a terrific display. Carson went deep into the forest, past moving shapes and sturdy mountains, deftly dodging hidden traps made of roots and sinkholes and evading the Silent's nests that sat precariously on large branches. The farther he went the damper the air became, until he felt as if he were breathing water. This inevitably began to influence his mind, making him stumble more than once. But he kept on, absorbing all of it, the good and the bad, leaving nothing on the wayside.

The sweat that trickled down Carson spine was a good sweat, not the sweat of drugs or anxiety or depression. It was a natural thing, a sigil of exercise, a sigil of endurance and perseverance. The shade of the trees consumed the world but the thin rays of the sun guided Carson through different sections of the forest. The Insurgent now knew how to navigate the inner-workings of the forest. He had mapped it out on crude parchment paper, every crevice and spectacular thing revealed and memorized and hidden away.

Carson was happy. Happiness had been a foreign thing to him, something hard to reach and far away. He smiled as he realized this and then stepped over a curved root reaching up into the air. To Carson happiness was a simple emotion, a soft emotion, easily forgotten and done away with, something he had not experienced since childhood. He did not know what he would do if he lost it again.

He came to a part of the forest covered in soft-blue moss that sat under a thick atmosphere. Carson felt as if he were being smothered. He tried to ignore the sensation, taking off his leather boots and wool socks and balancing himself on a moss-covered fallen tree that was receding into Eon. The Insurgent stretched his arms out and slowly balanced himself as he proceeded across the log, letting the moss brush against his feet and filter through his toes. On the outside of his vision was a strange creature with a bony hide and brown eyes which skittered beneath bushes and wide leaves, fleeing from the intruder who had happened upon his home. Carson stopped and watched the animal go, then returned to the warm dirt.

He left behind the blue moss and the dead tree and went on towards an old haunt of his. There was a tree, a large one that peaked just above the canopy. Carson began to climb this tree, grasping specific incisions and branches on the sides of the trunk. He became elated, each repetition ascending him towards Eon's atmosphere. A few times he felt as if he would slip and fall, but this sensation did not bother him as much as it should have. Eventually he made it to the top. He sat on a particularly sturdy branch and watched the sun descend above the treeline.

Here he could see the plains, and the valley, and the mountains and rivers and it was here he was happiest and most content. He sat there for a while, letting the air move through him and whispered in his ear. The doom encroaching he felt from afar and the disease he could see from within was unimportant, here and now. He closed his eyes and wished he could be like this forever. His doubts did not perturb him. He sat idly by with no intentions, no fear or destruction in his heart. Let the others eat one another, let them starve. Carson did not care.

Realizing it would be dark soon, the Insurgent left behind the trees and the mosses and the horizons, back to Far-Sky. He waded through the long grasses and watched as night came and the stars burned brightly. As he continued something caught his eye. It was a light, or so he thought, but it had come and gone so quickly he did not know what it was for sure. Perhaps it was simply his imagination playing tricks on him. He searched through the dark grasses until he saw the light again. His suspicions realized, Carson stood still, watching and waiting. And then, with the call of Eon's spring on the ears of every living thing, lights sprung up, a thousand little brilliances that stung the vision. The brilliances were insects, emitting blue flashes of light, fading away quickly but so numerous were the bugs that it was as if a carpet of brightness covered the floor of the world.