Prologue

Prologue

The hum of the vents and filters swirled around the hallway. Green neon lights sparkled light almost as if my own home’s green sun was shining through the ship. Branches and a moss like structure called the Epthum covered the walls with bits of Epthumala spores floating in the air. With gills fluctuating from my back, my two front legs stretching out, I took one final clean breath before walking up to the prison door.  

It was time for a reunion. The last time I had been through these walls, was to see off my sister to her own private cell ship after she had murdered our father in cold blood. Many say she went mad, while a few had rallied behind her. They say she’s the mad one, fools they were. They didn’t know the real story. The fact I had plotted my father’s death for years, being he was the Hepatula, the leader of our pathetic and dying planet. The fact that I knew how to bring our people back to the glory we once had burdened guilt to my father. Yet still, I at first, didn’t want to kill him, and what an idiot I was then. The shrilling soft and pathetic shell of the Hepatula, I should’ve known after telling him my plan that he wouldn’t go for it. He had done nothing to save our race, so he had to step down. Permanently. We the Varats, were once the pride of our own galaxy. Yet, pride when carried too far, will always take a gruesome fall. The Brakoniers were the one to push us to that fall. I was and am still unwilling to accept our fate, and after years before having sister dearest kill our father, I explored galaxies to find a cure for what disease that had been implanted by the Brakoniers. They had taken our pride and gave us the disease of fear, and now it was time to switch roles. The time has come for our trial of distinguish to end now that I’m no longer Zera Hepatula, but the new Hepatula herself.

I can remember my father’s words when he spoke to me as a young Varat, We must keep peace with the Brakoniers. Our truce with them will bring us to a new era of unity within our galaxy. What a load of Yanesh. He had too much of the Varat Pride in him to admit he had no plan. There was too much pride in him to admit he had been stupid enough to wage war with the Brakoniers. We had been brought to a brink of total annihilation, and all the Brakoniers had to do was unleash one fatal blow to end our race.

The brute and stupidity of the Brakoniers to call a truce with the Far Ren family will be one they’ll regret until I put my all eight of my legs right through all of their leader’s pesky eyes, ripping their manes off with such delight. Just the thought of it made my limbs tingle with joy.  What a glorious day that will be, the day Pagala Atamai Far Ren brings down the mighty Brakoniers.

Crawling to the branched door, placing my two front legs on the door itself, to scan my DNA encoding to open the door. The door rustled, and cracked with branches shaking after a few moments, then the branches pulled away to the sides of the walls to a pit of darkness. In the pit, it was completely silent, with only a few machines whispering and whirring. Peering all four of my eyes down below, deep into the pit, my eyes were met with another set of four, yellow threatening eyes hauntingly glaring up at me. Both of my dry, bark, lips curled into sick and twisted smiles. My sister was a master of deception, knowing that her face was below me, yet she stood above me. It was one of our abilities, the Varat had. We could sink into walls and camouflage ourselves to be only branches. The camouflage worked best in the shadows of night, and my sister is more than likely the best at it, letting other Varats see what she wanted them to see. “I brought you a couple of presents, sister dear. They’re just outside the cell hallway if you’d like to play Heptkai.” My voice rang soothingly into the pit. Hearing the slightest sound of shaking branches, the haunting yellow eyes never leaving mine, I could tell she was removing her camouflage to greet me. Still, she thinks she can fool me when I’m the one who taught her such things long ago.  Not much has changed. My smile disappeared into grief. “Dear don’t you remember who taught you such a childish trick?” I had taught her this exact little gimmick before resting in our nests as younglings after pulling the trick myself on her. Of course, I couldn’t do then as well as she did starting out, with some of my limbs not even in camo, yet to an unsuspecting Varat, I’d expect she’d scare the Trell out of him. “Hiya sissy!” Almost out of nowhere, my sister dearest yanked me from the left side of me, wrapping her long limbs all around me with joy. All four of my eyes had widened, and I couldn’t help but shudder a tad, convinced she was down below, yet somehow was right alongside of me. Throwing her off of me with disgust, wiping off her oozing roblar gunk of her limbs. We both crawled out into the hall, when I saw just what my dearest had been put through.

Although younger, my sister dearest was still much bigger than I. With her front limbs thicker, and darker colored than my own, it was easy to notice when the guards were torturing my little sister dearest.  With scars on her front limbs, and quite a few knotches on her six forelegs below her cocoon like body, I noticed she was limping out into the light. Dried, and stained, the ooze of her own blood still stuck on every cut, making it easy to see the bright green blotch. Two of her hind forelegs I could see were possibly fractured, while on one of her hind legs was bent and jagged in two separate directions. It would indeed appear that my dear sister, once the life of the party, cute as a ragtat to all, had been made to suffer silently all this time.  I almost felt sympathetic to how they had treated her, letting her go unwashed for who knows how long, but by the distasteful smell that leaked into my mouth, I’d say they’ve never let her wash up once. I almost felt pitiful, almost. Half of her face was swollen with knotches the size about a quarter of her face, with the words, Traitor, wrote in Varat was right in the middle of her forehead. Yet with all of that, she was still smiling, with both of her mouths grinning widely.

“The pieces are in place my dear. The Varat army is set on course to the planet Aracyna, and after making a few more errands, we’ll be on our way to make those Varsted Brakoniers pay. With that, you no longer are required to serve your sentence.” My sister dearest hobbled closer to me, with those crazed yellow eyes of hers gaping at me. Letting out a small, eerie giggle, with one of her mouths trembling, she leaned over to within inches of my face. Cocking her head to the side, the foul funk of her hot breath steaming onto my barks, gazing into my eyes, she slid past me without a single word, yet she kept a turned head with her eyes still fixated on me. “You mentioned Heptkai didn’t you?” Her mouths drooled with slimy blue saliva, with tiny bits of foam forming at the ends of her mouths. Her excitement to play Heptkai, a version of playing dolls with actual Varats, made me wonder just how much pain those guards were going to be put through when my sister was finished playing a game she had waited so long to play again. “Yes dear, but not too long. We have a few other recruits we need before we set our course. Unfortunately, this may be the last time you get to play Heptkai with Varats so make it count, sister.” The door cracked and rolled open, with the branches peeling away. I couldn’t help but smirk, knowing the next time my sister would play Heptkai would be with the Brakoniers. Letting the door interlock to give my sister dearest some privacy, I could still hear the shrill screams of the guards, echoing into the empty ship. My sister dearest, speaking in a playful tone over the screams and pleas. Welcome back sister dearest. How I’ve missed you so.

After the screams had died down to a deadly silence, I stepped out of the hallway of the prison, and into a different hallway with orange lamp lights shining from the ground up with green mush splattered everywhere, with guards hung up on the walls, and laid motionless on the floor. My sister dearest sat against a green splotch, staring up at the ceiling, her eyes closed and her mouths grinning with delight. My sister dearest, although beaten and bruised, a sister could only tell she hadn’t had her fill. Her two front limbs of her cut and bruised legs were shaking with adrenaline, yet after being imprisoned for a heroic deed, I could tell this was only mere justice to her. She hadn’t chosen to play Heptkai with any of the guards, she wanted the cursed Varat who had sentenced her to such a horrid place. She wanted our old friend Eadala. I had to keep in mind that Eadala was merely a tool, an innocent bystander who had happened to be put on her sentencing, and had to do his duty as Rightfur and sentence her what the law said. Once a close partner of mine, still being able to feel the electrical sensations of his limbs caressing me in such a way that no Varat partner ever had or dared. I had to keep in mind that Eadala should be kept alive. Eadala was a lifelong friend, the two of us grew up together, going off on exploring space and its many planets in the Conturium Library, to exploring the depths of the underground of our home planet. Eadala always treated our family with respect and honor even after our encounter with the Brakoniers. I could tell by the soft touch in his eyes, he cared about me.

“So….where’s your Varatoy? I’d like to pay him a visit sissy.” Turning away from my sister, I had to think of some situation to get her to spare him. Her words still echoing into my very soul, my sister wasn’t the same Varat she had been on her first day as an inmate. She had changed into something….more. Just looking at the guards and their wounds, she had carefully torn holes in their bodies and limbs, carefully picking out where to strike the most pain before they died. When she used to go out hunting with Eadala, she was merciful and quick. This had been planned out by her, to make these guards suffer to the very end. I feared for Eadala if she ever got ahold of him, there’s no telling what else she could do. She had learned far more than just a few tricks. “Ohhh, come on sissy. Don’t let some Varat get in the way of our bond? Do you really want to end up like father? Mercy can be a fatal weakness, sister dearest. Don’t let one flaw be the upbringing of your own destruction” She cooed with a soothing tone in her voice. Limping her way up to the ceiling, she crawled around me and sat in front of me like a Varat child. “You know the Brakoniers would share no mercy on him. What would happen if they attacked and got ahold of him? Would you rather him die by Brakonier, or by us?” Hissing, she turned around and began to walk away. Would she be merciful to Eadala? How is it I cared more for Eadala than my own sister. How had this become possible? Yellow murky tears foamed from my eyes, as I dropped my head in shame. How could I have become so weak? That I would put my dear Eadala before my own sister, it would sure bring out something horrendous to my future plans if I do not do something. My sister was right, mercy can be a fatal weakness. One that I will not bear.

My father had been in a similar situation once, he had been merciful to a race called the Ulvers once upon a time, taking pity on their Thyrone’s wife. The Ulvers were a formidable race, always perfecting their home with new medicines to make their plants grow different ways, producing different fruits. Not only could their medicine do that, but other medicines they carried could prolong life. What made the Ulvers formidable wasn’t their meds, but their dastardly poisons they could unleash. It was untraceable, and would spread to an entire planet in weeks. They didn’t need to fight, only to send a little gift to their enemies and it would soon doom them to their end. Father wanted a certain medicine, a medicine to bring out an illness in Varats that could be fatal when they’re carrying. Father had requested this medicine while my mother was carrying my sister dearest. He was in tense negotiations with the Ulverics for a trade clause when he had taken brute and intense measure to gain the upper hand. Yet what he didn’t know was the Thyrone’s wife was carrying three babies in her sacs. She pleaded with her life, and father caved, remembering his own beloved carrying his daughter. That could’ve been the first thing father ever did to have made him so weak and pathetic. Raising my head and blinking the tears in my eyes, I had to crush any sort of weakness within me. I would not tolerate weakness. I will not tolerate any form of mercy. “Sister dearest? When I take you to Eadala, make him wish he had been taken by the Brakoniers.”

Author's Note

How would you make this better? What tugged at you? What things made your skin crawl? I'm open for criticism.

Reviews

[Elli]

This is very well done. The descriptions of everything adds a depth to the world and is very creepy sometimes.