Chapter 1
Though I am not the same as I was then, I do remember everything. Every little detail. Like how I always felt a pit of dread in my stomach when I looked at my owner. My owner had been starting to repulse me—all of her talk about hatred towards the Kioka. How they should be killed or hunted. Everybody who lived in Reiflem and Relcore agreed, of course, but hearing talk like that made me sick. Even in the planets of Scria and Atquati where Creatu supported the Kioka, I hated hearing them talking the same way about the Ezahni.
But I was always loyal, even though I was coming to hate my owner.
I remember how there were hardly any safe places left and how you couldn’t trust anyone. “There could be spies,” people said. I remember how shops were completely closed down for the most part, except for the Black Market. Buildings were gone, except for a few select places. And how I could actually smell blood whenever I came anywhere near a warzone. And there were many of them.
I remember the day my owner dyed me orchid.
“Orchid looks good on Zaphaos, right Nickel?” she had said to me. Of course I liked it. It’s just I knew she did it so things would seem more normal.
I remember the day when she staggered to my side, begging me I had to deliver a message to the Kioka telling them that the Ezahni were giving them a peace offering. And how I dragged her to a cave where she could be safe and how I ran for the portal. I remember the landscapes all around me. Most of them smelled of blood. A sharp and salty smell. And how I saw the dead bodies of creatu. A dead female Kioka. You can always tell that it’s a female with the way the eyes are shaped… they’re always thinner and more almond shaped with the females. It was lying there in the rain. The creature’s beautiful ribbons were getting muddy. I think it was the first time it had ever touched the ground.
I ran on through Relcore into Trash Isthmus. Trash Isthmus was where the portal was located. It was also one of the most dangerous places to be during the war. Too many battles happened there. Too many Creatu went there looking for a fight or checking to see if any dead Creatu had any rare items on them.
I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I was being followed. I couldn’t smell very well due to the rain. It was loud too. I stood still for a moment. Before I was able to register anything, a huge black thing came out in front of me, blocking my path. I stopped abruptly. It was a black Vogar.
Fully grown, teeth sharper than razors, black as shadow. It was fearsome. It smiled, giving me a better view of its jaws.
“Going somewhere?” he said. He didn’t even know I was on his side. Then again, I was a Zaphao. I originally came from Scria. He had reason to mistrust me. Before I could say a word, he lunged at me. I barely dodged. I tensed myself. I did not know how to fight—at least, I couldn’t fight well. So it came as a surprise when he materialized behind me and bit into my left back leg. I felt it shatter. I collapsed onto the wet muddy ground, blood mingling with the water. My vision became odd, little balls of light and dark floating about.
Peace, I thought. I tried to get up. But I didn’t have time to—the Vogar was already at my throat. My vision went first. The last thing I heard was the sound of the rain and the wind. I went out of consciousness.
The blackness that followed felt deeper than when one faints. It was darker and felt like something. I could feel the darkness. It wasn’t closing in. It was simply there. It was impenetrable. I felt myself slipping away farther into it, bit by bit. Memories and feelings becoming less and less part of me. It all felt like it was happening slowly. Then again, it might have felt like it was happening too fast. I’m not sure now.
I didn’t care either. I couldn’t feel. What was my name? I could not remember. Even that was slipping away.
But then I heard my name being called and instantly remembered it. I saw a tiny thread of light in front of me. It beckoned me to grab onto it. I somehow went forward and reached out. The second before I grabbed onto it, I felt something latch onto me. I didn’t think about it. I grabbed the thread. There was white hot light that seared, pressing at my eyelids.
The first things I saw when I opened my eyes were the stars. I was standing somehow. I was in a flat land, gr*censored* growing all around. The wind that blew felt comforting. The sky was clear. No hint of rain.
“Nickel.” My owner’s voice. Beside me, my owner was laying down on the gr*censored*. The way the starlight hit her wavy golden hair made her look very pretty. I walked over to her, but the movement felt strange. Not so much strange as unfamiliar and different, actually. Puzzled I looked down at myself expecting to see the legs and chest of an orchid Zaphao. But I saw the mechanical body of an RSTU001 instead. I looked at my owner, feeling dread form in my stomach (though I did not have one). But I realized I would not have facial expressions. I just stood there, staring at her. She looked up at me, brought up a hand and touched my face.
I could feel her hand. Warm. I had not expected to be able to feel. I could smell, too. I could see very far. I wondered if I would ever be able to smell rainstorms coming or see lightning form ever again. Maybe. Maybe I would.
But at the feel of her hand, I calmed down.
“You were dead,” she said. She had tears in her eyes. “You were gone for three days. Then I looked and found you in Trash Isthmus.”
Three days? It hadn’t felt like that… Or maybe it had. I had lost track of time in that strange world of black. I made a low, comp*censored*ionate humming sound. At least I could do that. She dropped her hand.
“I attached your soul to this body. I hope it will do you good. I painted you orchid again, you know.”
Funny how before I had begun to detest her for talking with such p*censored*ion about war. Yet all I could feel for her then was loyalty and comp*censored*ion. Her hand clutched her side where I saw her white blouse was stained with red. It was that wound from three days ago. I wonder how she managed to do so much for me when she was so injured.
Then I smelled it. A dark musty odor that reminded me strongly of the smell of the blackness. I recognized it as the smell of death. It was lingering over her. About to pounce. I don’t know how I could smell it. Maybe because I had once died. The thought chilled me.
I felt a heart wrenching sadness.
That night I stayed by her side, curled up in my new body. It would take some getting used to. But I could hardly think of that. No. I thought about the war. How the offering of peace only lasted three days. How I didn’t deliver it on time. How the war would go on. How I would always feel guilty for that. How my owner would never make it through the night, how guilty I felt for being disgusted by her behavior because it really is easy to see the reasoning behind it.
I fell asleep eventually. I had weird dreams.
I was standing in that world of blackness again. My first thought was that I had somehow died once again. Then I realized that the darkness around me was not as oppressive as the darkness before had been. I could almost see light here. In fact there was something standing in front of me. A creature that took my breath away. A natural Omni. I had never before seen one. It was female. She looked at me with blind eyes. Though she could not see her eyes locked with mine.
“Who are you?” she asked. I could not bring myself to speak, however. Nickel I wanted to say. My name is Nickel. She smiled at me, just as the Vogar had. Only her smile was kind. “Orchid looks good on Zaphaos, right?” A jolt ran through me. My owner had said that—had nearly said the same thing. The Omni tilted her head.
“The RSTU001’s body takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?” she said. “It’s a shame. I liked being an Omni. Then again, I must be very lucky. I did not know I had enough spirit left to do such a thing.” I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she seemed nice enough. I nodded. She closed her eyes.
“You have quite a bit of memories,” she said. “I’m so sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with some of mine.” She smiled again. “And m y personality.”
My tongue finally loosed.
“My name is Nickel,” I said. She laughed softly.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. My name is Anima.”
When I awoke, the skin of my owner was cold. I felt restless.
It was time to move on.
~*~
Maybe I was just tired of Relcore. All I knew was that I had to get out somehow. I just wasn’t sure if I would be able to get into and out of Trash Isthmus again safely. I looked down at my body. I had heard that the bodies of RSTU001’s were nearly indestructible. One thing was for sure; I couldn’t get hungry. Or thirsty for that matter. My body was shiny and glinted in the morning sunlight that was pouring over gr*censored*y planes. I was glad my owner had dyed me orchid again. It felt right.
I still felt as though I were me. The only difference was I had a different body. When I was a Zaphao movement wasn’t as fast, but I had felt powerful. But the body of the RSTU001 was light and I was much faster. I missed being able to seeing spots of heavily concentrated lightning and watching lightning form. However, in this body I found I was able to smell death (however odd and morbid this thought may be). And my sense of smell was amazing. I could still distinguish the smell of a rainstorm.
I thought of the Omni from my dream. Anima. The name sounded familiar somehow. I had heard her name used before. I couldn’t place my finger on it. But I sweat I could hear her still.
Life on Scria was always best, now wasn’t it?
But it had to be my imagination. Still, I felt a yearning to go to Scria. I’d be welcomed there.
I heard the sound of a soft hop nearby. I whirled around (my body responded faster than I was used to). Standing not 5 feet away was a natural male Paor. He was a pretty thing to behold. Gossamer wings that were sky blue in colour, perfect tails, two strong legs on which he kept his balance. He moved gracefully. He was making his way towards me. He gave a bit of a bow, which startled me a bit, but awed me all the same.
“Hello, Madame, nice to meet you,” he said. I bowed in return just to be polite, but it must have looked awfully clumsy.
“Nice to meet you as well,” I said. It was the longest thing I’d managed to say in a while. Ah, the language of Creatu. I could still speak it. My voice sounded foreign, yet it had a tint of my voice in it. And strangely, a tint of another soft and sweet voice that also sounded familiar…
“I’m sorry to ask you right off the bat, but whose side are you on?” the Paor questioned. I glanced down at his paws which undoubtedly hid claws inside them somewhere. He’d probably slice me to ribbons if I said I was for the Kiokas. I felt an anger burn inside of me.
And strangely, regret. I don’t know where the regret came from, but it was there. I didn’t question it.
“I’m for no side at all,” I said, and it must have sounded a little bitter. This surprised the Paor. His tails twitched.
“I see,” he said. “Well you look foreign enough. Are you the spirit of an Ivik, may I ask?” He looked honestly curious. I almost laughed. He amused me. He was so formal.
“No,” I said, my voice soft and sprinkled with laughter, “I come from Scria, you see.” How strange that I would say something like that in that way. It was most unlike me. Oh well. “My name is Nickel.” The Paor broke into a sort of lopsided smile that made him look comical.
“I suppose I will not pry,” he said. “Oh yes, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Dateless.” And he bowed yet again. I stifled another laugh. I was glad my face would not show emotion.
“Interesting name,” I commented. His eyes grew wide and horrified.
“It’s a curse,” he said. “But I live with it. Please don’t think much of it.”
If I could have smiled, I would have. Instead I made a light and sweet humming sound.
“I think it’s charming,” I said. I looked at the sun in the sky. It was climbing higher. “I have to make my way towards Scria.” Dateless looked scandalized when I mentioned the name.
“Scria?” he said incredulously. I grew stern.
“I’m sideless, remember?”
He blinked his eyes apologetically.
“Right. Sorry. It was instinct.”
More like habit, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue. I turned around and started walking for Trash Isthmus. Dateless hopped behind me.
“I hope we meet again,” he said. I looked over my shoulder and nodded once.
I would like to insert something about portals, as they are a big part of the war. Portals before the time of the war were cool. You had these Portal Stations. You’d ride in this cool circular shaped “spaceship” sort of a thing with other Creatu. It depended on where you were and where you were heading to on how big your portal was. Scria had been known for having the largest Portal Station out of all the planets. Scria was a very big place for business and for merchants. Relcore was second biggest, being more for the ranchers and Creatu who weren’t cut out for the business approach at life. Music was big there. Atquati had been average-sized and was famous for its forest. Reiflem had the smallest Portal Station because of the planet… the portal station had to be small enough to fit on the slabs of granite that stuck up around the fire.
But all of those portals were now destroyed. Before the war really started, the portal stations in Reiflem and Atquati closed down. The ones in Scria and Relcore had held out the longest even during the war. But during the day when twelve powerful leaders of the Ezahni were meeting in a Portal in Relcore, something happened. Their portal went up in flames before getting out into space. It was known as the day of the Flames. It had been a planned attack. And that was really the event that started the whole war. Now neither the Scria Portal Station or the Relcore Portal Station remain.
Instead, you have to look for a small sphere of light that is hiding somewhere. An essence of what the portals had once been. It’s a one-Creatu-at-a-time deal, but at least it transports you to the nearest next planet.
Trash Isthmus is beautiful. It was the day when I was searching for the portals. Aside from some of the junk that was there, like the blue water bottles, staplers, bandaids, and tissue boxes there were the flowers.
I liked the glowing ones the best.
But they covered up all the bad things. The last time when I had visited, the day I died, there hadn’t been any of those friendly things. Just corpses and discarded eggs. And useless weapons. Now near every dead Creatu (the ones whose bodies had not yet decayed) there were flowers. It made me feel safer too. And nobody would attack me right away since I was an RSTU001.
I spotted a ring of glowing flowers of different colours around a sphere of bleached light. There it was. It was big enough for one Creatu to stand on. It looked solid. But I knew it wasn’t. The second I stood on it, I’d fall right through and find myself on a different planet. I put a tentative mechanical paw on the light. Then I scrambled onto it. As soon as all four paws were firmly on the portal, I saw nothing but whiteness. It filled my eyes, I could feel them watering. The light felt hot. It entered my mouth. It smelled like smoke.
It tasted like fire.
Take me to Scria I thought. Scria.
-End of chapter 1-