A Strife between Worlds

The Meeting

It had been 19 years since the fall of his world. He had only been a few months old when Supreme Leader Siglan had come with his battalions of space tanks and war machines to Arant. They had enslaved the locals of their planet and the neighbouring planet, Huflo, or so he heard; Jave himself had never been outside his world; he was too poor to afford space travel.

He was a slave under a lord from Sorle. The Sorlians had been sent as lords to enforce the rule of Groven; the Lord he served was Firzan, a name that he had first thought to be a strange weed. Jave and a hundred other slaves worked in the fields, sowing and harvesting crops each annually. It was harvest time now and the sun had almost disappeared beneath the horizon when he took the harvest to the storage mill. He looked beyond the boundaries of the field and saw a few children playing in the grass; Sorlian children, of course, the children of Arant would never experience such freedom or joy. 

'Akhawant,' he heard a voice behind him, it was the old greeting in the Arantian tongue; the speaker was his friend Zon, 'I haven't seen you all day.'

'I was here collecting the harvest, 'twas you who was on an errand.'

'True', Zon nodded. 'I was sent to the neighbouring land; Lord Sharin's fields.' 

Jave recalled that Lord Sharin was one of the wealthiest people on Arant, 'What did you observe there?' he asked Zon. 

'Well, the Palace is enormous and even the slave halls are quite an improvement over our deficient hall.'

He sighed, no one even cared why they were slaves in the first place. They seemed to accept their inferiority and prioritise it over their freedom. 'Come, it's time to rest now; all this work has left me exhausted', he told Zon as they returned to the hall.

They conversed a bit until finally, Jave said, 'Dawaran' (Farewell). He wondered how life had been before the world changed forever; before fate had been twisted horribly for the people of Arant; before his parents had been executed. No! He would not cloud his mind by dwelling on such thoughts, especially not at night, the wise often proclaimed that the night is dark and all evil is attracted to the dark.

He slept and dreamt of things he could not understand, for it was not a continuous scene he saw but separate visions and flashes. A horrifying thought jerked him awake and he could have sworn that he had heard a scream though he could not remember the cause nor the dream with clarity. This was the way it was, no night, for as long as he could remember, had been dreamless for him. It was still sometime in the middle of the night as Jave made his way outside. 

The others were asleep and the fields looked peaceful without any people wandering around. He inhaled the fresh air, he was sure that there was no one near when he saw her. A girl, a few years younger than him as judged by her appearance, was sitting under an oak tree. She was reading a book; this alone confirmed to him that she was a Sorlian, only they could afford books. He was hesitant to announce his presence at first. 

Gathering up his courage, 'Greetings', he said. 

The girl, shocked, looked up from her book, 'Who are you?' she inquired in a startled yet confident tone. 

Something about her is familiar, he thought to himself, 'I reside here. Who are you? And what is your purpose here?' Jave asked her now himself surprised. 

'I am Krina, daughter of Firzan', she replied after a moment. 

He looked at her, shocked, and gathered that she was telling the truth. He had never seen any of Lord Firzan's household except for his son. 'In that case, my Lady, I apologise for my impertinence. I am Jave, your father's slave.'

The girl, Krina, smiled, 'Oh, there is no need for formalities here. I accept your apology.' 

'What brings you to the hall, my lady?' Jave inquired. 

'I come here to read and relish the fresh air,' she replied and after a slight pause she continued, "though my father does not have any knowledge of this. Can I trust you to keep my secret?" 

Jave thought about it; the girl seemed quite witty, and even if he did tell the Lord, no one would believe him. 'Of course, my lady, I am at your service', he told her. 

'Well, it was nice meeting you...Jave,' she said, 'Now I must go home before daybreak.' 

Jave was almost in a trance as he asked, 'Do you come here often, my lady?' 

She looked at him suspiciously, 'Most nights, why do you ask?' 

'Could I meet you again?' he asked, hoping she would not refuse. 

'That would be wonderful, however, would that not trouble you?' she responded. 

He smiled, 'Not at all, my Lady', he stated. 'Farewell.'

Then she was gone while he was left stunned. Usually, a slave did not usually meet a girl till he was of pairing age, but he had met not just a girl but a Lady. This was an opportunity he could not miss; the girl could be a valuable asset in the freedom of the Arantian people. Yet there was something about her, she was comely, no doubt, but she was also confident. 

The sun was rising when he finally left the tree and made his way to the wakening slaves, 'Well met Krina Firzan', he muttered.