Galactica: Days of Trinity

Death Has His toll

Dreams and nightmares are both of the same masters but serve different purposes.

Lumark had been fixated on them for what seemed like hours, though time in that dark, eerie hall was hard to gauge. From his hidden vantage point, a small opening on the wall, he watched the Trinity with unwavering attention. Their enigmatic presence both intrigued and frightened him, stirring thoughts of their immortality and the nature of their existence. The First Elder's warnings about such ponderings only adding to the allure.

Alantus was a planet where life thrived for far longer than in other systems. The Norgs, including Lumark himself, could live up to two thousand Earthly years, while the Oreahs' lives were shorter by one thousand six hundred. The mysterious Deblantes, though, remained an enigma. No one dared venture to their lands, not even the Oreah tax officers and scouts.

His Mami, like many, feared the possibility of Lumark succumbing to the "bad blood" curse, seeing his curiosity as a dangerous path. But the First Elder saw something different in Lumark—a potential for greatness and a revival of the Norgs' glory days. Lumark's father believed that if one Norg could dare to ignite the flame of change, the rest would follow, and Alantus could witness a new era.

The tales of the dark ages before the goddess Diniir's arrival were etched into Lumark's memory. The era of self-governance by the Norgs, a time the First Elder fervently wished to see resurrected. Such desires were shared behind closed doors, for voicing them openly to the Oreahs, the ruling class, often led to dire consequences. Yet, hopes and dreams were what defined them as living beings—beings with desires, aspirations, and even nightmares.

In his contemplations, Lumark couldn't help but question the essence of the Trinity. Were they truly alive? They lacked desires, dreams, and emotions, appearing more akin to the soulless creations created by the humans—the monstrous civilization of machines. The thought tugged at his heart, pondering whether he still desired to be like them—existing but devoid of life.

"Death indeed has his toll."

Thorne's sudden voice interrupted Lumark's musings, snapping him back to reality. Thorne, the striking figure with his uncanny resemblance to the First Elder, stood beside Lumark, a smile gracing his features. Lumark turned his attention to the Trinity, wondering if Thorne's presence might disrupt the enigmatic beings' stillness.

He frowned, recalling the thought of him turning out as a bad blood during his bleeding. It unsettled him every time, but now was not the moment to let it consume his thoughts.

"What brings you here, Thorne?" Lumark inquired, the coldness of his tone betraying his aversion to his brother's presence.

"The First Elder requests your presence in the first place," Thorne responded without hesitation.

Lumark sighed inwardly, hoping Thorne would take his message and leave. But it seemed his father had a cunning plan in mind, knowing full well Lumark's feelings about his younger brother's company. His silent stare conveyed the unspoken message: "You are coming with me, whether you like it or not."

Thorne's next words, however, caught Lumark off guard. "They moved."

Startled, Lumark turned sharply to the Trinity, observing their seemingly motionless figures. But Thorne's calm demeanor was a sharp contrast to Lumark's mounting anxiety. Suddenly, all five of them raised their right hands in unison.

A sense of foreboding enveloped Lumark as he felt the temperature in the room drop significantly. The hall that had already been cold turned even colder. Thorne's voice seemed distant and muffled, as if his surroundings were fading away. Lumark's gaze remained fixated on the Trinity, the world around him seemingly dissolving into nothingness.