Of flesh and thought. Of want and worry.
No more divine than you or I at the time,
He transcended only after he chose to share.
Some among the upper troughs believe him always divine
That he lived many lives in many times.
Others say he was one soul, shattered across immortal time.
What all agree on is this—Gru walked with the forest.
Not as its master. Not as its pet.
But as part of it.
He saw us struggling, and he did not turn away.
He descended—yes, descended—
From the very stars, to gift us understanding.
From silence into storm.
From peace into pain.
As the forest does, he shielded.
As the forest does, he did not speak more than what was needed.
He came to teach—not to rule.
A small spacecraft glided over western Europe—now known simply as Euro. Its trajectory aimed toward North America, now known as Norte’am. The map, like the names, having changed over the eons. No straight lines adorned this tiny ship. Its bulbous cockpit sat atop a cabin that had two sleek curved engines on each side.
Inside, the pilot—Chen Deau—had long since discovered that these ships had a tactical advantage to them; they could get in and out of an area nearly undetected—perfect for reconnaissance missions such as this one.
He had taken off about an hour and a half ago—an approximate distance of four–thousand miles from where they currently were. The ship had flown into the exosphere and was just starting to bounce back down in an arc-like telemetry and would land in about twenty minutes.
He was lucky to have gotten hold of the ship in the first place. A small Golden Age aerospace facility was rediscovered about thirty years ago. A lot of effort was put into repairing it and now a mercantile fleet of craft were being constructed by the Consensus who had grand designs for the lost knowledge.
Two existing “Silhouette” models, like the one Chen was in now, called the "Verdant" and the "Mercury" were only produced as prototypes—testing out the 3-D printer capabilities. It also helped that the sleek ships did a good job conveying the might and power which outclassed tower caravans, hover carts, or even the rare “Skip-copter" transports.
Chen was a fit man with dark healthy skin, good teeth, and a penetrating stare. His hazel brown eyes glimmered in the starlight as he fiddled with some controls on the left side of his console. The six-foot-two, one-hundred-eighty-pound man looked no older than thirty-two. Still in the prime of his life, although he was considerably older at seventy-five. He brushed his fingers against the tightly cut brown hair at his scalp as he listened to a device at his ear and focused on the monitoring display.
His mental clarity was crystal sharp but at times he felt used-up. He often felt like he had forgotten something very important, only to eventually give up on remembering. It was a weight on his soul that seemed to grow more and more each year. The more he interacted with his work the more it seemed to chaff at his inner self.
Today he looked very pedestrian in a seemingly simple black outfit, sitting comfortably in his seat—he could easily be a town innkeeper as far as any one knew—he definitely did not look like a top ranking officer. Right now he would have been looking at the beautiful pale blue planet outside his window, if he weren’t staring at a beautiful face in his communicator—hazel eyes framed by wide cheeks, strawberry-blonde braids coiled neatly around her head, and lips that still curved like they used to when she laughed. Leah—his wife of eighteen years.
Leah had just asked Chen if he would be home in time for his youngest daughter Andrea's naming day—her ninth—in three weeks. She knew from experience that Chen's missions could stretch on indefinitely. Already he had been gone for nearly three months—only appearing briefly in visits that could barely be counted as being home. She understood—planning, preparation, execution—it all blurred into a waiting she long came to peace with. After all it gave her time to tend to her own affairs.
"I should be back by then. I'm just following up on a security lead in the new land. Get in, look around, and get back."
Two-hundred years of being a Herald... wait... no that doesn't make sense.
Seventy-five years... yes. Seventy-five years of being a herald had taught him that nothing was for certain, plans always changed on the field—as reliable as the sun in the morning—things will happen.
But he wasn't going to mention that to her—learning which battles to partake... something he’d come to understand with time.
Leah had just started on a long diatribe, one Chen had heard many times before. "Well then, I'll let her know that you will be here. You missed her celebration last year and she was so..."
A loud ding followed by a screen with 'Communication Lost' where Leah had been speaking replaced her feed on the screen. A flutter to his left showed him a constant villain in his life; Kildra.
Kildra his WISP, and he her Herald, hovered in her hummingbird shell made out of thousands of nanobots, but looking solid and whole as any other metallic bird would look. Her outer shell sheened a bright gold, one that reflected the lights in the console to all angles, almost like a mini disco ball.
"So when we get to the ground,” Kildra interrupted.
“I think maybe we should just send out the drones to home in on any heat signatures and attack on sight. That would make short work of any sizable force. Afterward a thorough search of... Chen, are you listening?"
Kildra was a Wisp, but not any Wisp; she was Chen's Wisp. It's said "Every Herald has their Wisp", but if you asked a Wisp, they would instantly correct you—"Every Wisp has a Herald". It was a small difference that made a big difference.
The Wisp were non-corporeal beings gifted to humanity to be stewards by the Illexia during the Golden Age, over 500 years ago. They were meant to guide us in using the knowledge that the Illexia had given us. Over time Wisp became more of an icon to the masses. A deep thought triggered in Chen as he once again realized how much this particular Wisp, really liked to ‘guide’ him.
"Leah?" Chen automatically asked the dead connection. Leah always tried to be nice to Kildra, but it was always a challenge. He sometimes felt a pang of pity for her—marrying a Herald meant living with a Wisp, but none of the benefits and all of the personality. He’d often ask himself if maybe his wife was a sadist?
"Did you disconnect us Kildra?" Chen asked the small bird.
The wings made a golden blur as they raced up and down at hundreds of rotations per minute. Her wings' buzz almost drowned out the hum of her small turbo fan—located under her body—which is what actually kept the shell afloat.
Kildra was hard to look at since she kept darting from side to side, so Chen grasped a hand toward her in an attempt to corral the fast bird into one spot.
"Don't grab at me!" she yelled at him. Her high pitched voice echoed deep into his ear. Chen flinched at the unexpected volume in the quiet cabin.
"Kildra, would you please give me a moment. I was on the communicator with my wife. Thank you." Chen said while moving back to the communication device that was to the left of his cockpit controls to reconnect.
"Why do you think you can talk to me like that! I'm not a pet that you can simply swat away when you feel like it."
Chen gave her a frustrated side glance as he reconnected and went back to his conversation with Leah.
Leah having been used to years having to deal with Chen's working situation simply smiled, a perfect diplomatic smile, as he apologized for the disconnection—one she’d heard hundreds of times. One that had long since lost its value.
"You know—I do look forward to seeing you soon, right?" He asked as his voice lowered on the last part. With Kildra always around, since Wisp and Herald are bonded for life, the couple had gotten very good at communicating between the lines. Sometimes just a look could speak volumes between the two.
Chen spoke to his daughters before he went back to finish his preparations.
First he spoke to his oldest daughter, Indra, who was already a fountain of knowledge at the ripe age of twelve. The small know-it-all had told him—matter-of-fact—that if he were further out in space he would be able to see the floating colonies of Venus and since he was still so close, he should be able to see the Moon colony of Lunas. Both artifacts from the Golden Age.
He simply agreed with her—not wanting to go into specifics of the Chakallexia invasion and their aftermath. Giving her his blessings he asked to speak to his youngest daughter Andrea.
Andrea was the shyer of the two. And although she wasn't one to state fiction for fact, she had already mastered the ways of subterfuge in her own lovely way.
"Daddy, Miss Boren told us that in the Golden Age, every girl had a doll made of glass. Do you think there are still some dolls made of glass daddy? Do you think they are too hard to find daddy?" Andrea said with a sparkle of hope in her eye and a grin of expectation on her face.
"Well I'm not sure honey. Glass breaks pretty easy and the Golden Age was some 500 years ago. Maybe they've all broken by now?" Chen said playfully to his daughter.
"No Daddy! Things made in the Golden Age don't just break daddy! They were made of gold after all and that's hard as steel daddy! Even the glass daddy! They just don't break!" Andrea said with a gusto and fire in her belly that always made Chen laugh.
"Good point. How about I keep an eye out for one of those shatter-proof dolls? Sound good?" Chen asked in his most diplomatic voice.
"Yes daddy, that would be a very good thing to keep a look out for. Who knows, right daddy?" Andrea responded with the joy that only an eight-year-old could have over receiving her daddy’s promise.
"Right, now, I love you darling, and can you put your mother back on, I've got to get going."
Chen said his goodbyes to Leah and made a mental note to ask Kildra to create him an unbreakable glass doll for Andrea's naming day gift. The gods alone knew what heartache that favor that would cost him. On second thought, he decided he would ask Divan instead.
To each side of him stood a chair, swiveled inward to face its own dedicated console. The left station mirrored his primary panel and defaulted to navigation. The right station managed systems. All three chairs sat tightly side by side at the forward end of the cockpit, which was no more than two square meters wide.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Immediately behind the cockpit, a narrow hallway ran six meters toward the aft of the ship. The corridor was just one meter wide and flanked by internal compartments along both sides. Midway down, a small exit hatch sat along the starboard wall, opposite a recessed lavatory built into the port wall.
Farther back, a collapsible captain’s bed was mounted against the aft bulkhead. The space beside it—labeled as collapsible access—housed the manual systems panel. The armory ran along the lower port corner, just beside the lavatory wall, with shelves for Chen’s field gear tucked securely inside.
Most days Chen would wear a more presentable dark grey shirt and slacks made of a cotton and linen blend that made it light and airy, and a smart pair of light tactical boots, the default Rear Guard Scout uniform.
The cut of the shirt went to the top of his neck and had a short collar which left his Adams apple exposed and were made of a rare Golden Age technology that would fasten the garment together, like buttons, but leave no sign of the seam. The effect was that it made the shirt or pants appear to be one whole piece—in fact Kildra said it was a lot like sewing it in place unto his body.
On the right lapel of his official shirt collar, a small red circle with a golden outline would signify his command of the Red Guard Scout Division. His left collar would display the symbol of the Heraldry—a golden oak leaf. Both emblems looked like they were grown onto the fabric rather than sewn on.
Today, however, he was scouting—or perhaps investigating—a potential conflict. The two roles often blurred in his line of work. As such he wore his recon-hunting apparel.
A black tightly fit full length turtleneck shirt tucked into black cargo pants. The material was also a gift of the Golden Age that Chen cherished, though he couldn’t recall when—or how—he’d received them. An occurrence that seemed to be happening a lot lately.
The fabric itself was as soft as silk on the inside, but the outside felt as if it were made of thick sturdy material and had the benefit of being bullet and puncture resistant to small caliber rounds and common melee weapons.
Chen was sure the material could be used in other ways but whenever he asked Kildra about it she would often dismiss him simply saying "Our role is not that of those research and development monkeys in Tower-Six. Go ask them if you're so interested." Something he had in fact done numerous times to little avail.
His light grey mottled overcoat with a large hood would go over his plain hunter garb. The overcoat would provide an optic camouflage vastly superior to multi dyed jackets that most people still wore. As an added benefit it also provided thermodynamic control for a broad range of environments. He often wondered, if these were the scraps of the Golden Age, what had the actual Golden Age been like.
From the bottom of his armory shelf, located in the back of the ship, he pulled out a set of 3 black sheaths which held three perfectly weighted throwing knives sharpened to an atoms width of sharpness. Each sheath came with a stretchable belt and buckle, wrapping snugly around his left thigh.
He pulled a sheathed black dagger from the same shelf. About the length of his forearm. He unseated it and inspected the blade. It was light to the touch, but not too light—perfectly balanced. Its razor edges were serrated on one side and straight bladed on the other side. An indent at the base told the wielder where pommel and blade connected. He inspected it to his satisfaction and then put it back into its sheath clicking it into place on his right hip.
A dual mode slightly oversized automatic pistol—a Golden Age relic—came next from the middle shelf. Iridium depleted bullet shells could cut a hole into most anything—ships and armor included. The gun was a good and stable sidearm, but burned through ammo too fast. At 600 rounds per minute the 30 round magazine was empty in about 3 seconds if he allowed it to stay in automatic—setting it to a 3 bullet semi-auto burst mode was a necessity. He placed the gun into its holster wondering—as he often did, when could you use the automatic mode and if there were larger clips made for it originally. After all Golden Age weapons, with all their precision—still needed a hand steady enough to aim them and at 600 rpm, that gun was all but flailing.
On the top two shelves, a shimmer of yellow light cast a hazy opaqueness to everything inside the cabinet, as if you were looking through a dirty glass. It was in fact a barrier field that ensured no undue access to the contents. Scanning his palm to the wall, the yellow light dissipated from the shelves allowing them to look normal again.
From the lower of the two Chen pulled a box down which had a word embossed on it reading "KOBE". Opening it revealed another dagger that looked a lot like his other one with two exceptions; first, both sides of the dagger were straight bladed and second, this dagger had what looked like a small switch in it's hilt which required a deliberate push to activate—something Chen now did without hesitation.
A slight hum filled the room as a blue sheen swept across the blade, followed by a yellow shimmer in reverse. The dual frequency Kobe plasma dagger—also known as shield breakers, designed to disrupt resonance and cut straight through energy fields—was working as desired. He turned it off and put it on his hip just opposite his regular dagger.
'Kobe' weapons were named after Kobe Self Defense, a lower tier Golden Age foundry as per Kildra. Emergence age explorers first found these plasma based weapons and quickly referred to all of them as Kobe-class weapons—regardless of foundry. Today a few smiths can create a Kobe-weapon, but most warriors still covet the rare originals due to their reliability.
Chen continued to provision himself with the necessities of the hunt such as canteen, salt pills, rations, etc.
Finally, he grabbed for the long shelf at the top of the wall. There, he pulled down a Kobe-class polearm—known as a Ji. It was a long dagger-axe pole weapon with a meter long blade that extended from the top of the pole. At the base of that blade another blade extended out a little less than half a meter horizontally. Together they formed one whole blade in an L shape.
The shaft itself was a composite material from the Golden Age that stood two meters in height. It had a carefully crafted button on its stem, like the dagger, which Chen tested out. Except unlike the audible hum of the dagger, an atmospheric pressure was emitted. It felt like the feel of a storm brewing just after a sunny day.
Unlike his dagger, which when activated basically got covered in plasma allowing them to cut through practically anything, this polearm was used to basically blow things up.
To literally blow something up, that 'thing' had to be within 160 degrees and six feet in front of where the polearm would hit, making it an excellent mid-range melee weapon. The emitting blast would disable electronics with a strong electromagnetic pulse aka EMP field. It would easily dismember anything outside the six-foot kill zone—and killing everything within it.
Conveniently, the wielder was protected from the blast itself using a blast shield that would pop out just before the blast, or manually using a second, ingeniously crafted button on the pole’s mid-grip.
Chen thought he had found the polearm about twenty-seven or maybe forty years ago. He could also see it being fifty. He was a little foggy on details like this when it came to his equipment. It was in a small unknown foundry located in the south western section of the Oceania continent.
Since then he had lost count of the times he'd been offered riches for it; but he would never let it go, not even when a request to borrow it for private study came from the Consensus' Lucio himself.
"Oh for the love of Wisp, you're not taking that are you!?" Kildra said coming around his left shoulder, the hum of her wings annoying his ear with the flutter of an unexpected air. He severely disliked her bird avatars.
He’d been leaning toward leaving it behind, safe in the barrier field—until she broke his rhythm.
There were plenty of reasons to leave it. Still, he dug through his mind for any excuse to bring it. Safety immediately came to mind. He simply felt personally safer with it around. It also annoyed Kildra since it was one of the few things she was afraid of—always a win in his book.
They were visiting the secluded Forest of Gru, which was supposedly notorious for its dense foliage, soggy undergrowth... moist... coverage?; Maybe he was missing his wife more than he thought.
"I'll need a walking stick won't I? If there are hostiles in the forest much easier to blow them up all at once then fight. Right?" He thought to himself.
Despite rumors of mutated animals and thinking plants, the dangers came from something far more human; a band of terrorist trying to upend a Consensus backed pilgrimage. Cultist of the Wisp were there looking for converts and the local religions, the Greens—natives of the land, fiercely protective of their forest and their own—didn't like that.
Not many people live on the Norte’Am continent in large masses outside of the towns and cities but many Golden Age technologies could still be hidden under centuries of debris all around and that attracted the eyes of the Consensus.
All it took was a message and a microphone—and the Tower knew it.
Politics guised as faith, he thought to himself, in disgust.
In truth he knew that as a reconnaissance mission, this shouldn't require a Kobe-class polearm in his arsenal, but he finally decided to take it anyway—being honest with himself that it was solely because how much the thing bothered Kildra. Being a high energy weapon it was one of the only things that could actually harm her.
Kildra rarely showed fear to anything or anyone—a fact that annoyed everyone. So knowing she actually respected—feared, same difference—the polearm, made Chen feel a little warm inside. Although in reality, Chen knew that he couldn't, physically, ever do any harm to Kildra. His life was bonded to hers as surely as the stars we painted in the heavens.
Heralds without a Wisp would die a quick and painful death. Nobody understood why, but de-bonding with a Wisp would wreak havoc on the Herald's organs causing an agonizing, but quick, death. The Wisp however would be fine, maybe sad if you were lucky.
Many times had Chen felt the punishment of de-bonding to then be resurrected again repeat. Wait... no that's not right. Weird thought fragments like that seemed to be increasing lately. He'd have to talk to Kildra about it soon. But not today.
Other Heralds would usually brush it off and say that dying the final death without the Wisp was a small payment for their eternal life, youth and access to the Wisp's knowledge of the Golden Age.
Chen was slowly starting to rethink that. Soon his wife would grow old and die followed by his children and his children's children, all the while he would stay healthy and physically appear as his 32 years old self. Chen was one of the oldest Heralds, and didn't even remember a time before being a Herald.
To most Heralds, devotion to one’s Wisp was absolute. Having a family bordered on it being blasphemous to the Heraldry itself—Kildra was keen to remind him whenever the chance presented itself and in fact was a view he himself shared until he met Leah in a small village off the cost of the continent of Africa 19 years ago.
A conflicted Chen went to the Lucio, the leader of the Consensus and an Herald of an earlier model Wisp, and asked his advice expecting him to follow the typical thinking of most Heralds and he didn't.
"Our life is long Chen. We do many things that most don't. Why would we not do things many do. Enjoy your life with this woman, while you can. Just remember that time will take her from you faster than you would have a mind for, and you can do nothing about it."
Chen married Leah that very year, taking her with him to live in Schronienie, or what came to be called the "The Last City"—also known as the Tower—where he bought a manor house for them in the upscale Outer Tower grounds. As a bride price to her father he gave a large herd of wild goats and a roost full of chickens; a very extravagant and noble gift to the coastal village folk.
As Chen was lost in these thoughts, he swatted his ear as exhaust air tickled his ear canal. "Kildra please—a little space" he mumbled, switching off the polearm and sliding the sheath back over the blade. He had to be careful as even when turned off the polearm blade was atomically sharp.
"Oh, are you upset at me? Did I interrupt your conversation with your wife? I'm so sorry, I thought we were working on a mission, or did you forget that part Chen? Seriously you forget your place at times. That is why Heralds don't get married. You'll see. She's going to get old and pass away like all humans do. Or worse—she'll bore of you and betray you. And to remind you—there’s no way I could resurrect her without killing either her or you in the process. So that’s out. You will see why Heralds don't get married or start families. Mark my words Chen." she said while flying about Chen's head circling his head like he was the flower and she the hummingbird, hungry for control.
"I swear, Darin’s right, we should make Heralds pledge their allegiance before we raise them—if only we could." she whispered more to herself than Chen as she floated away.
Leaving his pack and his polearm near the exit Chen walked to his pilot's chair and announced, "Seems we've re-entered the atmosphere, prepare for landing in at this position in five minutes, let the Tower know we've arrived and are about to embark on the mission." He set the landing position into the Nav computer and sat.
"Chen! That is not the location of the last know conflict. We know that there is a mass of hostiles at this position." She marked it on the map for the fourth time since they left, "and that we should obliterate them from the sky to hasten our pilgrims claim on this land."
"Kildra, that's not how diplomacy nor our military doctrine works. I'm on a reconnaissance mission, info gathering, so we can have our diplomats kill this properly. We are not here to decimate the forest."
Something in Chen's heart fluttered at the thought. He must need to hydrate he said to himself.
"I disapprove. But fine. Let's go reconnoiter then. I detect an anomaly three klicks this way. Let's land and see if this is a place I think it is."
"How would you know? Have you been here before?" Chen asked.
“Yes. In fact, you can call it home. This is the forest I found you in.”
Chen felt the flutter again.
“What do you mean?”
Kildra didn’t answer.
Not directly.
“You’ll see.”
And see Gru did.
It’s absolutely deeper than it seems.