PART 1 >< BIRTHDAY
[On December 11th of 2089 the population of humans on earth was approximately 11.2 billion. On December 12th of 2089 , It was just under 1billion.]
Thirty damned years old. My alarm screams and I wake up, my back creaks , and once again I am oh so how lucky I am to be born on the same day as our God prince.
He is fourteen today and for fourteen years my birth date has been stolen from me, not that it has mattered. For fourteen years instead of cake and booze, I have been gifted with something far greater.
Nia.
My precious daughter. Gemma , I hope you're looking out for your little daughter while your soul dances wherever we go when we die, not Hevathi like they tell us.
I get out of bed and look in my dirty mirror and view the illusion of a man who knows what he is doing. I'm reminded of my dissolving youth when I spot a rogue group of greys along a field of my short ginger hair, short just how Gemma liked it, fourteen years gone and I still present myself as I did on our first date.
My ginger sprinkled with grey reminds me of my father and mother–The only thing they left me, that and my name–Trian.
I quickly shave my face-not for Gemma but for Nia, she never liked my beard. A splash of water claws my face-an attempt to wake me up– I had trouble sleeping once again, a recurring symptom around my birthday.
I put on my clothes, a simple black pair of shorts and a t-shirt, every year of my life it just seems to get hotter, perhaps the Gods are dancing too much in Hevathi. I open my door and smile plasters my face, a table set already, laid with coffee and scones and best of all Nia sat with an endearing grin.
Her rosy cheeks burning, her auburn hair from me and her green eyes that reminds me so much of her mother, "happy birthday Pa" she says as she leaps at me and with a great hug.
As I hold her with all my essence, I remember why I keep going–she was like a sun-what I imagined a sun being like from the stories, if only Gemma were here to see how she has grown, but those ideals were for the Gods , too many nice things were an impossibility for humans, that's just the way of things.
"Thank you Nia , you've outdone yourself, where did you get coffee and scones from" I ask and she laughs
"I got them from a friend of yours, Maven, she was very excited to help, I have a sneaky feeling she has a fat crush on you Pa" Nia says giggling. I let out a proper laugh.
"Oh so you say, well I'll make sure to thank her later".
We rellish our food and coffee, something I've only had a dozen times and laugh. Time sadly passes as does our meals.
"Come on get your bag Nia , you can't miss the school assembly" I say.
"Of course not, an hour of them praising and brown nosing the God prince Aerin Gottlich for an hour" Nia replies.
" 'brown nosing' Nia don't say anything foolish like that in school." I say and she ducks her head.
That's one bad trait she got from me–seeing the Gods for what they are. I pat her head and swallow my discontent for the Gods.
"Nia I'm serious, too many have been punished for it" I say and I look at her, I wouldn't ever let anything happen to her.
"I know Pa, I know" She mutters and walks out the door.
Our cheeks reacted with blossoms of red to the bright sunstone that illuminated the only place I've ever known–Tempaira. Sometimes I wish that I could see the sky that shone on Hevathi and sprayed the Gods faces but that kind of thinking would only lead to disaster, as it did with my parents.
Our sky was a black ceiling that ran across Tempaira and surrounded it like a cube. Above the cube was Hevathi–the land of the Gods and souls when they died, where Gemma supposedly bathes in sunlight.
"Good thing we wore shorts today Pa , it just keeps getting hotter and hotter" Nia says,
"This is nothing to how hot it is at work, you're right about it getting hotter though, we could probably throw out all our jackets and trousers for how much we use them recently" I say as our sandals slap the concrete path as we continue to walk on a downward slope.
Tempaira in its entirety is a downward slope, Our house is around the middle, halfway down the slope while Its peak being castle Dwire–home to the Dwire family– the Gods that ruled Tempaira.
There were many Gods that ruled cities like Tempaira but no one knows how many cities there are. All we know is that when the Gods created us they also forged these domed cities for us and now. But if they created these cities why don't they ever show their faces. I had a theory–one that ould get me the noose–that there were no Gods, just lies. The God king was the holiest of them all, so we pray everyday and hold idiotic assemblies for him and his supposed prince sons. Bullshit
"Hey Pa, what you thinking about?" Nia asks–snapping me out of my concentration,
"Oh nothing, just thinking about how Tempaira has changed" I lie.
"You must be thinking a lot then , so much has changed in the centuries you've been alive Gramps" She says laughing,
"I'm barely double your age, it wasn't too long ago I was dozing off at school, which you better not be doing" I say,
"I know, I know, I need to work hard and study so I can become an engineer or doctor instead of a horrific paintaker like you" She says and suddenly erupted into a flush of surprisingly even more red cheeks.
And there he is the infamous Bryan, "Ha, come one Nia introduce me to your new boyfriend" I say loudly on purpose , "Shh Pa, please don't embarrass me, we hardly even know each other" she says looking like she's about to erupt, I laugh, "okay Nia , I'll let you off this time , now I'll see you later after the assembly".
We hug and she says goodbye and she runs off to school , I start walking off and hear her voice behind me , "Hey Byan , did you do the homework?" I laugh again , interrupted by a smack on my back "what so funny Tri?" I look around knowing from the smack and the loud voice-my oldest and best friend-well apart from Nia--Feargach.
"Just seeing how Nia has grown up Feargach" I say , "oh is that a boy I see her with , don't worry uncle Fearg will chase him off" he says , I laugh "I'll let the boy off this time Fearg" I say as we start walking up an incline to get to work.
The PRF is where Fearg and I and countless others have worked our whole adult lives. The Pain Receptor Facility is an iron giant in the middle of Tempaira. It's where the people who slacked off and didn't try in school end up. It's what teachers warn you about — that if you don't study, you'll work at the PRF. As I have gotten older, I have realised that I should've listened. Technology chirps and whistles as Fearg and I walk through our dreaded workplace.
"Looking shit per usual today, red-head," Matt says as soon as our eyes meet. Matt — someone I've known since school — our dislike for each other hasn't faded over time. He is a guard here, a lapdog for our Gods.
"Looking bald today, bald-head," Fearg says right before I was about to speak.
"Shut up, brown nose," Matt says as we walk off into the corridor in front of us.
Ironic that he calls Fearg "brown nose," when that is what he has done his whole life to the Gods. But damn it, I can't let myself think like that — having contempt for our Gods is what got my parents killed, and it is what I, time and time again, stop Nia from having.
"Here we go, section 102. Another day, another pain. Do you know which one you're testing today, Trian?"
Pain-takers get sent into neuro-pods and subjected to a type of pain, or disease, or ailment. The reason for this was said to be for medicines and vaccines for Tempaira and the other Wurfels. But there was no way of knowing that was even true — no way of knowing if any of what they say is true.
"It's the sleep one you got a few weeks back. I have it assigned the whole month," I say.
"Damn, that's not a great one. Well anyway, good luck, Trian," Fearg says as we walk into section 102.
Pain. Egregious, extortionate, impossible pain fills my body as black, thirsty liquid pumps through my whole body. Wires clip onto my clothes and sneak straight through them — appalling, sharp, and prickly pain splintering at each of the wires' surroundings. That pain was swiftly usurped as the black liquid injected and grovelled through me. I feel every bone, every muscle, every nerve, every cell being altered throughout my body, sending unfathomable pain through me. I screamed and screamed until my throat bled. I couldn't even feel the pain from that — it succumbed to the violent terrorism that ran rampant in my body, in my soul.
Lights — bright white — scream at my face. My eyes adjust and the main scientist knocks on my pod. The pod opens and this weasel of a man starts to speak.
"Very good test results. The sleep-forcer worked well. After being injected with the liquid for one second, your body was forced to sleep for eight hours."
One second. That world of pain lasted a mere second. What could our Gods possibly need this for?
"I was out for eight hours, so work is over then," I say, eyes still adjusting.
"Indeed, Trian," he says, "but you won't be going home. That assembly that all the schools were going to go to for Prince Aerin has been announced as a mandatory assembly for all."
Damn it. What a birthday. No — there was still that time with Nia in the morning. That was good.
"There hasn't been a mandatory meeting since Drovo made his new laws when he became King of Gods," I say.
"And what a memorable one it was," Fearg says as he bursts into the room. "I remember it quite well when we were kids, Trian. The young, handsome Drovo with his impeccable voice and stature. Death is our lock, Righteousness is our key — I still remember those words after all this time. So different from the other Gods — he was driven."
"Anyway, Trian, come on. All of us are waiting for you," Fearg says, and I take his hand and get up from my pod.
As we walk out of the building, groups and armies of people are all hurrying upwards to Castle Dwire at the peak of Tempaira. We finally get to the top and a bittersweet feeling hits me. All of Tempaira in one place, before Castle Dwire — just as it was on the coronation of Drovo Gottlich and the murder of my parents years before.
I look through the crowd to try and find Nia, but my eyes find someone else. Her black interlocking braids that twirl on her back is what I notice first.
"Maven!" I shout.
She clocks her head sideways and a smile sparks on her warm, dark face.
"Tri — late as ever. It's about to start," she says.
"What's going on? Have they said anything yet?" I ask.
"No, not yet. The Gottlich family haven't showed up yet. Raiser Dwire summoned us all. He's been very serious on punctuality, Trian," she says.
"I'm sorry to offend your boss, Maven," I say.
"He's basically your boss too, Trian," she says.
"Anyway, have you seen Nia at all?" I ask.
"Of course, I knew you would ask. She's up with the school at the front," Maven says, her onyx eyes as beautiful as ever. But still, I haven't asked her out. I still love Gemma, even if she has been dead for half my life. I don't know if I could ever move on.
"What are you two lovebirds talking about?" Fearg says from behind, as transparent as ever.
"Maven has kindly shown me where Nia is. Let's go over to her before this starts," I say, and we start walking through the crowd.
As I call her name and Nia looks back, a hole opens in the ceiling of Umbra 678. Nia doesn't even turn to look — her eyes focused on me, and mine on her. I put my arm around her.
"Oh yeah Nia, I forgot this will be your first time seeing the God-King Drovo."
"Yeah, I'm sick of seeing the boring prince," she says.
And the boring prince descends through the sky and lands on the floor in front of Castle Dwire — in front of us — ordained in his beautiful obsidian armour. His completely white skin and hair contrast with his armour — the same as his father, the King, and all of the Gottlich family. Only the Gottlich family were a pure white colour. Other Gods were differing shades of blue.
Raiver Dwire — the ruler of Umbra 678, who stood behind Prince Aerin — has cobalt skin colour, white hair, and a white bone horn emerging from his head. Aerin has three, as did the other Gottlichs.
One more figure rained from the hole in the ceiling — clad in obsidian armour, the same colour as his completely black skin. A giant of a man — no, God. He didn't seem to have any hair. The only bit of colour apart from black on him was his eyes — a bright blue in an ocean of darkness. My blood boils now as I see him, just as it did when he killed my parents in these very streets on the order of the last King years ago.
Krieger Rust — the Dwarf Sword.
"Attention all mortals gathered here today: Drovo Gottlich, my father, will not be coming here today. He has died, and I am now King of the Gods," Prince — no, King — Aerin says.
How could Drovo be dead? The good King, the one who banned the heinous laws. Little was known of how Gods die — they usually die after two or three hundred years. That's how old King Mirand was when he killed my parents. Shortly after, he died, and Drovo took his place. But Drovo was only a hundred or so years old. How could he be dead? What really happens in Hevathi? Is it not the beautiful peaceful land we were told about? That's what my parents questioned.
I have to stop thinking like they did — but I can't stop myself from worrying.
I look to my side and see shocked looks on Maven and Fearg's faces. Then I look to my daughter and see her eyes are focused on someone. I look up and see they are locked on to King Aerin — and his are locked on to her.
My stomach drops.
"As the new King God, I bring back the Law of Gift. I will take her," Aerin says.
My body freezes as his finger points at Nia.
She says nothing.
"No. Y-you can't," I cry.
"Yes, I can, loyal subject. Now come here, girl."
Nia turns to me and embraces me.
"Goodbye, Pa," she says.
"Nia, n-no!" I barely utter.
She leaves me and starts to walk over to King Aerin.
Memories and nightmares plague my head — of my parents' murder, this same square, the ones I love most being taken from me — by them. The Gods.
Anger surges through me.
I HAVE TO SAVE HER.
I sprint and cry and sprint. Nia turns her head, a tear running down her face. My hand reaches out to her — but it never touches her.
A flash of black interrupts my hand.
Before my brain can even register what is happening, my parents' killer — the Dwarf Sword — smashes my face. His obsidian fist, shielded by obsidian armour, rattles my skull.
"Worm," his voice echoes.
For a moment, I am like the Gods. I fly through the air. Pain — far worse than any I have taken at my job — takes over my whole body. As I crash into the crowd, I barely even notice the pain.
The pain of seeing my tears drop to the floor as King Aerin and the Dwarf Sword carry Nia and fly out of the hole in the ceiling.
A moment later, the hole is patched.
My daughter is gone.
My parents lived to fight against the cruel rules of our Gods.I lived to protect my daughter. My parents died for nothing. And I have lived for nothing.