Without Her II
Francis opened his eyes slightly, his eyelids feeling as though they were bags of sand. His view was blurred, although he could make out a panicked crew and a loud voice over the intercom.
“Everyone, remain calm!”
His eyes fell closed once again, his head throbbing.
“I repeat, remain calm!”
He managed to force them open for but a moment. The lights seemed dim.
Has my vision gone dark?
Francis could make out a child crying in the background, washed out by the panic consuming the ship. He was able to see the dark figures of passengers scrambling about the ship.
What’s happening?
“We’re making a break for the nearest gate!”
His eyes closed, having defeated him. His head jerked from side to side.
“We’re almost there!”
Without warning, the sound of a massive explosion engrossed any attention Francis managed to still have, his ears now ringing wildly.
He could tell the voice was yelling over the intercom, although he could no longer make it out. Then, nothing.
Francis stirred and woke slowly, his head feeling somewhat better. He let out a sigh as he rubbed his head.
Ugh, what a nightmare.
He opened his eyes wide and perked himself up with a smile and a deep breath.
Parchment, luggage, and various items were scattered about the area as if a storm had ravaged the interior of the ship. Random spots of wiring sparked slightly and the lighting was incredibly dim. He undid his safety belt and stood to take a good look.
As he walked through the aisle, Francis saw that many of the ship’s passengers appeared to be sleeping. Some were huddled together and others were sulking to the side. No one bothered to acknowledge him. Everything seemed so barren of hope.
Francis maneuvered through broken glass and random belongings to peer out the window as he had earlier.
What?
He looked upon a planet in his view, made up of marvelous reds and browns. Giant clusters of coverage swept through its atmosphere, swirling thick and ever so perfectly. It was breathtaking. But... where’s the Concordium?
Then he saw it. The quantum gate, dark and shut down. It no longer looked operable and he imagined they likely barely made it through.
Francis heard the sniffles of someone near him. He looked to see a young Saraven held by her mother. He approached, but stopped when the daughter suddenly threw something to the floor. The girl continued to only cry harder. The mother looked to him with a very sad, forced smile that immediately crumbled under the weight of her sorrow.
Lifting the item from the floor, Francis raised it to his eyes to see it was a necklace made out of various, thin metals, woven together. Attached was a red stone, perfectly circular in shape with its colors seemingly endless in depth. The metals spiraled around it to clutch it ever so gently.
He stared into the jewel, his mind piecing the puzzle of the situation together. His heart pulled from within, burning inside him. Two very distinct thoughts crossed his mind.
First, something had gone terribly wrong. Something had driven them off course. Something happened to the quantum gates. Whatever it was, it had separated him from both his home and wife. Second, nothing would stop him from returning.
He clutched the girl’s necklace, raising it in the air. The look of the stone reminded him much of the planet they were now nearing.
“It was a gift from her father,” the mother explained, her voice cracking. “He got it for her to remember him by while we were gone.”
The burning in his heart grew hotter as he realized the effect this situation had on not only himself, but everyone else. A third distinct thought entered Francis’ mind, and he decided it was the only one he required.
They would all return home and he would see to it.
Power suddenly flowed through him as a small, red light began to circle the gem.
The daughter looked up to Francis with big eyes, cautiously wandering from out of her mother’s hold and towards him.
He knew he would have to become something more if he was reverse what had happened, to find his way back home and back to Odette. The strings in his heart tugged and tugged until they snapped.
“Do you feel it? Do you feel yourself being energized with its glorious power?” He clenched his hand as the red light began to flow towards his fist. Sparks erupting from the air empowered it, making the glow brighter and brighter.
“It is the embodiment of rage, pumping you with heat and aggression!” he roared, the red bursting from his hand in an explosion of color, the particles swirling around him in a mad torrent. The child near him rushed to her mother, frightened by the eerie look upon Francis’ face.
“It can be the sight of blood on the field of battle or the shrill cries of men begging for their lives.” Francis smiled, the grin manic in its obsession. He then dipped his fingers into a whirl of red in the air, poisoning the colors with a very dark shade. He continued to appear progressively more mesmerized as he watched the darkened red take over.
“It is so very magnetic,” he said as he stared into the swirl, watching the different shades mix, “but it can also be quite temperamental…” He then began to slowly move about the room with the waves in the air, closing his eyes as he let its glory engulf him.
“It lights a fiery, powerful passion within ourselves as we gaze upon its stimulating and impulsive presence.” Francis stopped abruptly, his eyes widening with surprise and the red light instantly faded away.
He then quickly composed himself, pacing about the room as he tapped his lips. “It has such a way of rolling off the tongue, does it not? It is such a short word, but it sounds so very sensual and sexy at the same time."
“Red.” He whispered the word, letting it hang in the air as he spoke it.
The illusion of red swirls and waves began to form around them, ranging from light to dark shades. The colors had been passionate and violent before, but they were now warm and comforting.
“As an Inarian, I can appreciate it in all of its beauty and wonder,” Francis said, looking down at the item in his hand.
The young Saraven child continued to stare up at him with wide eyes, staying partially hidden behind her mother’s wing. Francis knelt down to be eye to eye with her and he held out the necklace with its beautiful, red stone.
Apprehensively, she raised her hand and took back her prized possession, staring into it as if she now saw something she hadn’t before.
“Francis?” A voice called from across the room.
Francis looked to find her standing in the entryway, Tichaona, his rival. However, she wore a look he had never seen on her face. It was worry, but it was as if she was looking to him for hope.
He looked from her to the girl and back to her, nodding. Tichaona left through the entryway. He followed after her, noting how near they were getting to the planet.
There is much to be done.
By Chet DeLano
