Wherever I May Roam - pt3

He stands there, watching me, waiting for some kind of reaction. But I'm in shock. I had many expectations when I arrived here, one of which was that I would encounter highly intelligent beings. Considering the technology I'd seen on Earth, I assumed it had to come from somewhere.

I didn't quite understand why the gates connected one side to the other, and I still don't fully grasp it, but when I saw the humanoids in the "desert," I knew. That technology originated here.

But now he's speaking an Earth language. How is he doing that?

I remain still, my mind a whirlpool of thoughts, paralyzed by my inability to find the right words.

The situation starts to grow uncomfortable. I see him attempt to murmur something, to initiate a conversation, but then he stops. I think he's waiting for me to take the lead. Truly a wise being.

"How are you speaking an Earth language?" is the first thing that escapes my lips.

"I've visited your planet several times," he replies, his tone amicable, subtly gesturing with his arms.

Leaning slightly forward, he says, "It's been many years since I last crossed the gate. I was among the first to make contact with humans". He pauses, keenly observing my reaction.

"One of the first? Why did I encounter you? Were you guiding me here?" I start firing off questions, one after another, not even pausing to breathe.

"Calm yourself," he extends one of his hands, his voice tranquil, his eyes deeply authoritative. My anxiety subsides, and I take a deep breath, leaning back into the chair to let him speak.

"My name is Haashtar; the one behind me is Szil. What's your name?" he says, gesturing toward Szil with his left arm. She acknowledges with a sign and heads to what appears to be cabinets near where we are sitting.

"I'm Ruri," I decide to withhold further comment, better to wait and see what he wants from me.

"Very well, Ruri, now that we've been properly introduced, we can talk."

He waits for Szil to complete her task; we spend some time in silence. She finally returns with a small chest, crafted from beautiful light brown wood, adorned with what appear to be faintly glowing green vines. She places it on the counter beside us and opens the chest like a tray. From it, she takes out an irregularly shaped sphere, not unlike an orange but red in color, and hands one to me.

"Let's eat while we talk; Szil will serve us. This fruit is called 'achwl'. It's hard to pronounce, but you'll catch on soon," his words are so friendly that I don't give it much thought and start eating.

Szil shows me how to eat the fruit when she sees I'm trying to eat it directly. You have to peel it first; by pressing a finger into one end, the fruit yields to the pressure and splits into six perfectly equal pieces.

He must have noticed my surprise at the fruit's convenience.

"Most of the food on this planet has been developed and cultivated by my species. We've been here for thousands of years and have had ample time to create something close to paradise," he says, his tone tinged with pride.

The fruit is delicious. It pops in my mouth, reminiscent of childhood candies, a blend of sweet and tart flavors. The juice dribbles down my chin, leaving a sticky trail that I'm too engrossed to wipe away. It's perhaps one of the most delectable things I've ever tasted in my life.

"I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it. So, shall we proceed? What would you like to know? We'll go at your pace," he says, settling into a more comfortable posture to enjoy the fruit that Szil has handed him. Watching him eat, I mimic his actions; it's far more practical and clean.

"Everything," I reply tersely.

He gives a slight smile, "I understand. I expected no less."

"Firstly, you are the first human to cross the gate. Our species has been in contact with humans for over a hundred years. But never has a human crossed the portal. All attempts have resulted in humans disappearing," he pauses to eat, speaking briefly to Szil in their language. She then begins to pour some sort of liquid into a cup that looks like it's made of leather.

I remain silent, attentively listening to what he has to say.

"Before I say anything more, I need to clarify something with you. Why do you have the presence of an effective?"

His eyes bore into me, as if scanning the very fabric of my soul. I sense that I'm about to answer a question to which he already knows the answer, but he's testing my sincerity. I quickly realize that lying or attempting to deceive this being is futile.

I recount my entire story. From the day I first conceived the idea of this journey, through all the trials and tribulations, to this very moment, I lay it all out. He listens attentively, analyzing not just my words but also the emotions conveyed through them.

The liquid is potent, its kick suggesting alcohol. But then again, I might be projecting Earthly customs onto this alien world. I'll know more after another sip.

"I see, Ruri. Your story is quite peculiar, don't you think?" His words don't carry suspicion; rather, they provoke thought.

His words give me pause. Indeed, the unique chain of events that led me here is puzzling.

"Now is not the time to dwell on that. Let's take an easier path. You're not on your planet anymore; first, you need to know where you are."

He rises, periodically sipping from the cup in his right hand, then begins to walk around the room, gently touching the objects and plants surrounding us.

"You are on a planet called Csydohn, or more adapted to your language, Cydonia. It's a massive planet, over five times the size of Earth," his words make me think deeply. I'm not experiencing any difficulty adapting to the planet's gravity; in fact, it's easier to move around. The only logical explanation is my experience with the Jumper, so it's fairly obvious why.

"My species searched for a planet like Cydonia for several generations. We lived on a dying planet and needed to escape," he pauses and looks directly into my eyes, "Much like the planet you come from."

"Yes, we have issues, but we're gradually solving them," I reply.

"In reality, you're not solving them. Earth would survive—I'd say you'd have time to overcome your problems—if it weren't for contact with our species," he returns to his chair, signaling Szil for more drink.

"When we made contact with humans, we struck a deal. We have a very serious problem to solve here and need humans to help. In return, we provided various technologies and a promise that humans could come live on this planet with us," his tone turns more serious, and I detect a hint of resentment in his words.

I choose to remain silent; it's better to listen than to speak.

"But your species has been deceived. It was never the intention to let you cross to this side. My species is merely using yours," his expression turns sorrowful.

"What do you mean? Are you telling me all those people are dying for nothing?" My tone becomes aggressive, clearly laying the blame for the deaths at his feet.

"No, they are dying to make this planet habitable. Creatures are much weaker on your planet than here; that's why you're being used," his candidness takes me aback.

"And you say this so casually?" My words are tinged with disdain for everything I'm hearing.

"I tried to fight against it, Ruri. This place where you are is a bastion of resistance. My species is very different from what Szil and I are," I sense the sincerity and gravity in his words.

"The problem is that we are very few. Our species is a very small number. We've mastered technology and modified our bodies so much over the millennia that our birth rate is extremely low. We're not capable of fighting our own wars."

"So we're fighting your war?"

"Yes, that's why my species is manipulating yours," his second cup is empty, and Szil promptly fills a third. "We are fragmented into various different tribes across this planet. All constantly at war, so we're not capable of dealing with the effective that roam this planet," now things are starting to make sense; his words are more of an invitation than an explanation.

"And where do I fit into all this, Haashtar?"

"I've traveled through the gate so many times that I've lost count. Gradually, my body was being modified without my knowledge. When I realized it, I was seeing the past and the future constantly. My body aged, despite my species not experiencing what you call aging," I notice his face, eons seem to have passed since his birth.

"It was only then that I discovered my species' intentions. So, I gathered others who were against all this and fled. Since then, we've been fighting against those who are slowly killing this planet," his voice is weary, and I see his frail body. He seems to need rest.

Szil approaches, and they converse in their language. I see Haashtar decline what she's asking.

"I need to rest all the time; my body can't handle being awake for long periods anymore. But first, I need to conclude this conversation," he says, and I nod in agreement.

"I want you to stay here and learn our language. I will help you, but I need your help too. You must feel that I knew you would come here; you don't seem naive, so if you know, you must understand that there's no future for you except with us," I see no lies in his words; if I go back to where I was, I'll be lost again.

"I have nowhere else to go; my best chance is with you. I'll follow your guidance for now. Just answer me this, is there any way to contact my planet?" My voice comes out almost as a plea.

"There is, but not here. I know how, however, now is not the time to think about that. You need to speak our language for us to help you. You need to learn to cope with what your body has become, and we need you to fight alongside us," he rises, limping, and Szil quickly supports him.

"I'm going to rest, Ruri. Stay here; Szil will take care of you. When I wake up, we'll continue our conversation," he starts walking towards the ancient, spiraling staircase, each step echoing in the dimly lit chamber as he ascends.

I look at my hand, feeling it pulse with some form of power I don't understand. The worst part is that now I know I've been manipulated in some way. He knows what happened, and he knows what will happen, so my entire fate is in the hands of this being.

What's comforting is that he doesn't seem to have ill intentions; I sense only sincerity in his words. But in the end, even if it may seem legitimate, he could just be someone who knows how to manipulate very well.

Ever since my youth, I've been a suspicious person, always cautious about whom I get involved with 

On the day of my mother's accident, she woke me up very early.

It was her custom on Mondays to wake me up early to help her make breakfast. She would put a stool next to the kitchen sink, we would talk, and I would measure out the ingredients. She always had the habit of singing with me; we would spend a good time laughing and singing. When my father woke up, everything was ready; we greeted him with a warm good morning and ate together.

That day my father was not at home. 

A peculiar day; it had never happened before. My parents always prioritized spending time as a family; it was always the three of us whenever possible. 

My mother was down that day; we sang little and talked little. I didn't ask questions.

At one point, the phone rang; she went out to answer, and I listened attentively. I could sense it was a conversation with my father. She was complaining about him always sacrificing himself for friends, always taking on tasks and activities to relieve them. That it wasn't what they had agreed upon.

My father had taken the place of a friend of his for some commitment, the exact nature of which I was unaware. The friend's name was Nathan, a figure who had frequented our home on several occasions.

Multiple times, I caught him casting peculiar glances at my mother. She would always dismiss my suspicions, asserting that Nathan was a long-standing friend of my father's.

Years later, when my father was at rock bottom, I remember him trying to call Nathan and never getting through. The times I saw that he managed to make contact were brief. It seemed like the old friend was avoiding my father at all costs.

At the funeral, he didn't show up. No one did. It was just me. My father's life insurance had covered all the expenses; his inheritance was all transferred to the orphanage that would take care of me.

I learned from an early age that I should not trust anyone.

But Haashtar seems different. Something tells me that I should trust this being with all my might. I watch him slowly walk away, his frail form trembling, showing profound exhaustion.

"Excuse me, may I ask just one more question?" Despite him looking so debilitated, I can't help but ask just one more question.

He turns slowly, his face showing a gentle smile, "Of course, Ruri. One question won't hurt."

"I wanted to know, how did you discover that we humans exist?"

The question genuinely caught him off guard. He ponders for a moment.

"We've known about you for many millennia. Specifically, since we left our home planet."

He read on my face that I couldn't be more confused by what he just said. It makes no sense; first, if they knew about us, why the hell didn't they go to our planet, and also why didn't they make contact earlier. A hundred years seems like a very short time.

For a species capable of developing technologies as advanced as theirs, it shouldn't be that difficult.

"I understand what must be going through your mind right now. But the explanation is simpler than it seems."

Even from a distance, I can see the nebulous glint in his eyes piercing through me.

"We left Earth ages ago. We always knew that our home planet would be there; we just didn't know how we could go back to a time when it was possible to live on it."

What the hell is he talking about?

"But it's human nature. We are very attached to our home."

He resumes walking towards the staircase.