DUSKLIGHT ODYSSEY

Chapter 18

"An odyssey at dusk." The old man's voice was stretched thin with age, yet it boomed across the wide cavern still. "And there, in your arms. There it is—the God Seed."

The God Seed. Is he talking about the egg? thought Ion. It almost seemed to grow heavier in response to the thought.

"But..." the old man's voice was tinged with confusion. "This picture..." he gestured to the pair. "It's not quite right, is it? No, it's you who's meant to carry the Seed... and it's you who's meant to carry the Standard." The man pointed a bony finger toward Naim, and then to Ion. "Now how did that happen?"

Ion couldn't bear to hold the egg in his arms any longer. It was all he could do to let it down easy before resting his wearied arms on his knees and steadying his breath. "I'm sorry," said Ion between gasps of air, sweat dripping from his face, "but who are you? Who are you, and what is this... this picture you've drawn? How, just how?"

Ion felt the tip of a spear press into his lower back.

"Respect, boy." It was the woman who had led them there.

Naim dropped the cross and rushed over to lay a fearful hand on the spear. "Please, don't."

"Mauren." The old man's voice was stern.

The spear receded reluctantly. "Watch yourself," she spat.

The man let out an exasperated sigh. "Mauren, please. These are our guests of honor." He turned his head toward Ion. "It's only natural you'd have questions." He broke into a warm smile again. "My name is Simeon. I'm the leader of this little community. I've dreamed of you."

Naim's face turned from worried to beaming with curiosity. "A revelation?"

Simeon nodded. "That's the perfect word. A revelation. It came to me in a dream nearly two hundred years ago."

Two hundred years. Had the man really been alive for over two hundred years?

Naim was attentive. "Can you tell us about the revelation?" she asked.

"Of course," Simeon said. "It's as clear in my mind now as it was then. But first—" he motioned to two people politely stood a little ways from his side. "—let's get our guests something to eat."

The two people silently left the chamber and shortly returned bearing platters heaped to their edges with steaming strips of white meat and handed them to the starving pair.

"Come closer, take a seat." The man beckoned Naim, who sat at the man's feet.

Ion followed, studying the meal in his hands for a moment. He recognized the stuff as roasted élaf, something he hadn't experienced in years. Ion took a bite. An explosion of savory flavors filled his mouth as he chewed. It was a far cry from the raw, slimy substance he'd eaten every day for all his life, and it was a warming, caressing comfort to his enfeebled body.

Even Naim—normally so sickened by the taste of élaf—greedily ate her portion, likely unaware of what it was.

Just don't tell her where it came from, thought Ion.

The old man, Simeon, studied them, stroking his long, white beard. Finally, he spoke. "When I was fifty years old, fire consumed the earth. Not a surprise, not to anyone who was paying attention. People have always sought the most efficient way to kill each other. Eventually, we found it: the split atom. We spent decades building those bombs, all the while promising we wouldn't use them. But we knew it'd happen at some point. And it did. The whole world, baptized in fire on a Sunday afternoon." Simeon stared off into space, lost in his thoughts. "But it wasn't right, that war. There was no purpose in it, no passion. Not that any war is right, in truth... but at least when Cain killed Abel there was a reason. The act was human, conceived in hate, born in jealousy. When the world was killed, it was to no end. To kill as many as possible was the only aim, and to poison the rubble that remained. Not out of hate. Not out of fear. Not out of gain. That feeling of nothingness—that was society's last and final sickness. Apathy. The opposite of love. The bombs were dropped because it was time, I suppose. There was nothing left to do. The world wasn't murdered, really. It was a suicide." Simeon looked up. His soulful brown eyes stared into Ion's. "But look at us. The world died that day, yet somehow we're still here."