The Irvidian Sea

  Ages ago, mysterious ancient machines soared high over the tranquil green waters of the Irvidian Sea. Rusted hulls now litter the lush coasts of the emerald isles. They are the last remains of a civilization that has long since exhaled its final breath.

  Barron stood on an outcropping overlooking the bay, repeatedly tossing a small pebble up in the air while balancing on the moss-covered rocks. One slip would mean death, the raging stream falling forty feet and battering the rocks below.

  Whenever Barron and Gwen have time coming back from their scavenging runs exploring the old ruins of an ancient city, they often take the time to enjoy each other's presence in the tranquil, secluded location while watching the mesmerizing sunset paint the lush tropical landscape.

  Though forbidden by the Elder to be so close to the sea, past the protection of the trees, the two have never been caught after all these years. It was the first time in several weeks that the two could visit their favorite spot, as Gwen was finally feeling well enough. She sat on a fallen log off to Barron’s right, with her hand rubbing her rounded belly.

  Barron tossed the rock out towards the bay, turning around and walking towards the log. “Are you ok to walk?”

  “Yes, just give me a few more moments.”

  Barron couldn’t help but stop for a moment to admire his wife, her golden brown skin, green eyes, dimpled cheeks, and short curly brown hair were a part of the reason he fell in love with her in the first place, along with her kind personality.

  He spotted a small violet flower with 5 petals, walked over, bent down, and carefully plucked it from the ground. He sat down on the log, causing it to slightly wobble, placing his arm around Gwen and surprising her with the flower. She took the flower from him, smiled, and brought it up to her nose.

  The Gods blessed them with the miracle, despite critically declining birth rates and pregnancies. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. The ancient war left behind vile radiation, and severe malnutrition was ravaging the population.

  “Ok, help me up.”

  Barron got up, taking Gwen's hands in his and gently pulling her as she stood right into an embrace that lasted for several seconds.

  “We should probably hurry back. The last thing we need is for the guards to lock us out. You know how the guards like to go on their power trips.” Barron said as he pulled away, staring out across the bay once more, ready to turn back and walk down the rugged path to town.

  Barron stared for a few moments, not quite understanding what he was looking at. “Wait a minute. What is that out there?” Barron pointed towards a small shape on the horizon, flickering in between thick sheets of mist. Of all the times the two have sat here overlooking the bay.

  Gwen turned around, staring out in the direction he pointed. Her heart rate quickened after spotting what was clearly a distant island, knowing Barron would stop at nothing to explore. “I see nothing. What do you see?” Gwen tried to keep any emotion out of her response.

  “I think..I think it's an island! Look carefully, after a few seconds, you will spot it. Gwen, this could be our chance; I bet it’s been unexplored for several lifetimes. Imagine the artifacts we could find!” Barron smiled at Gwen, determination seared into his hazel eyes.

  “No, I see what you mean, though. It’s just a flock of birds off in the distance. The fog makes it hard to see though.” Gwen attempted to convince him it wasn’t an island, knowing the Elder would permit no one to leave the island.

  Barron eyed her suspiciously. “I know you see it. Let me guess, you just don't want me to go. Are you scared those metal beasts are still lurking in the abyss? How old are those stories of the metal beasts, anyway?”

  The legends say metal beasts, capable of extreme feats and violence, lurked in the sea and the lands beyond. They were leftover beasts of war, on the prowl for the last spark of humanity across the cosmos.

  Gwen crossed her arms and scoffed at him. “I love you and don't want to lose you. Just because no one has spotted them doesn't mean they aren't there.” Gwen shifted her tactic a bit, appealing to his emotion and love for her to take his mind off leaving.

  “I will approach that abomination then and ask for a group to accompany me. The guards have nothing better to do, anyway.”

  It was as if Barron had reached across and slapped Gwen with the glare he was receiving. “I have told you before not to talk about him that way! He deserves your respect at the very least for what he did for our ancestors. We wouldn't be here without him.”

  “Yeah, I know the stories. But, don’t you ever question why we have to sit there and listen to his teachings and story over and over? Yes, he may have once sacrificed everything to bring our ancestors to a haven, hidden from the watchful eye of the metal ‘gods’, but now all he does is hide behind his doors, always reminding us we cannot leave, and forbidding certain technologies and medicine.”

  “He has his reasons. Certain artifacts can reveal our location if activated. It's worth the sacrifice to live like this. You have to realize that.”

  The two scowl at each other, neither willing to compromise on their beliefs.

  Meanwhile, the sun drifts closer to the horizon, the brilliant orange shifting to a deep purple. Birds fly overhead, singing merrily while making their way towards their nests cradled in the rusted hulls lining the beach. White streaks drip down the metal like paint from ages of onslaught from bird droppings.

  “Now let's go. We need to get back. I’d rather not sleep outside the gates tonight.”

  Barron grunts and shrugs his shoulders, staring back out at the island once more, dreaming of what could be if they could leave this godforsaken paradise. Exploring new lands could allow them to find artifacts, they could afford food and a new roof over their head. But the Elder forced them to pick over the long empty ruins of a dead city. Freedom was contained to a 30-square-mile island. To leave is to die at the hands of the metal beasts.

  The two begin their silent walk back toward town empty-handed, not yet over their argument. Another day without a meal waiting for them back home.

  “We won’t make it back in time!” Said Barron, while tightening the straps to his backpack and picking up the pace. The thought of not being allowed past the gates didn’t frighten Barron. He enjoyed exploring, and it was the only time he felt free.

  After a long walk through the quickly darkening jungle, the two reach the main road into town and pass by the guards.

  “You two were lucky. We were just closing the gate. Say, where were you two? You look to be in rough shape.” The guard said as his gray hair and brown eyes were highlighted by the glow of the fire.

  “We were out scavenging the old ruins, and didn't pay attention to the sun setting.” Said Barron, without emotion.

  The guard took a long few seconds to stare at the two, finally sighing. “Don’t let it happen again. Next time I might not be in a good mood.” The guard steps aside, watching the two closely.

  Barron and Gwen walk hurriedly past the guard and smirk at each other after being out of eyesight of the guard.

  Elata is a large town situated in a blown-out cauldron beside Mt. Kiyax. Rows and rows of makeshift solar panels line shoddy-built houses made of the ancients’ scrap. Towards the center, two main roads crisscross the town, providing avenues for foot traffic. A large market sits near the center with several vendors, with pubs and shops lining the streets.

  It might not be much, but it’s home to the last vestige of humanity thanks to the Elder. Some say he is responsible for our salvation and praise him, while others don’t believe his false teachings and believe he is hiding something. To criticize publicly is treason. Treason means death. Meanwhile, people starve, with short life spans because of a lack of medicine and technology. Humanity was a former shell of itself, once a galactic space-faring society, now carving out a miserable existence on a small volcanic island on a planet littered with the tombs of the ancients.

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  The two take in the mouth-watering smells of Rexors pub as they head home, both taking a moment to glance at each other, Barron slightly shaking his head and lowering it in embarrassment. Gwen gives him a small knowing smile and takes his hand in hers. The two continue their silent walk home, weaving in and out of the busy foot traffic.

  Barron became even more determined to visit the island. The possibility of finding artifacts is worth the risk. Bringing one back would earn several weeks of food. Now that Gwen was carrying their child, he needed to provide for them. Something that he wasn't currently able to do.

  Barron wakes early to the vibrant sound of the jungle and decides to Gwen for once. Silently dressing and sneaking out the door. The crisp morning air greeted him, the sun rising over the canopy casting its red shadows over the town.

  Approaching the town hall, guards peer down from the steps at Barron, hands resting on their rusted swords at their hips, but show no signs of stopping him. The town hall was the nicest building in Elata. It had a heavy wooden door, a thatch and sheet metal roof that didn't leak, and intact windows. Inside, Barron walks up to the Elder's assistant. An old lady with thick, cracked glasses lifts her head and squints.

  “How can I help you?”

  “I am here to talk to the Elder if he will see me.”

  “What for? He is a busy man, after all.”

  “Look, is he available or not?”

  The old lady glares at him for several moments before shrugging her shoulders, standing up and waving for Barron to follow.

  Stepping into the Elders’ office was like stepping into another world. Thick silver cords stretched down from the walls, snaking towards the powered chair in the middle of the room. The room was cold, ice cold. Barron stepped forward, goosebumps erupting all over, the sound of mechanical whirring rhythmically drowning the room.

  “You have a visitor Kronus, I will leave you two to it.” As she made haste out of the room, closing the door.

  Barron’s mouth was dry, and his heart was pounding. He cursed himself for trying this route and not just trying to steal a boat under the cover of night, exile be damned, it had to be better than talking to this.. thing. Finally, he gathered the courage to talk, after it showed no indication to greet him.

  Barron cleared his throat. “I apologize for bothering you, but I am here to ask for your permission to lead an expedition. I believe I saw an island within range.”

  The Elder spun around slowly, and Barron winced. Many spoke of the Elders' age and looks, but the stories didn’t prepare him. The top half of the Elders skull gleamed silver, the aged, patchwork skin hung loosely over his face, and the eyes. Oh God the eyes, pure fluorescent blue, peered back at Barron, calculating, soulless. This thing is more metal than flesh and bone.

  A few moments passed, the Elder still not speaking. Barron began again. “I believe finding a working artifact, or even simple scrap metal, is worth the risk. Our recent runs here have left us empty-handed. We're all picking over scraps and starving due to not being able to afford enough food.”

  The Elder suddenly spoke, however, the mouth remained still, slightly parted. “I am aware of this island, however, the risk is too great. The last expedition that left our shores never came back. That’s the one you know of. In past lifetimes there have been other expeditions. In all cases, those who volunteered swore to never return if they believed they would bring harm back to our haven. Did they have a reason to not return, or are they all dead? I have been pondering that for a long time.”

  The Elder watched Barron for a short time; it was clear his point wasn’t being driven home.

  “Have my teachings not been enough? The metal gods roam the wilds, beyond our home! We cannot draw attention to Elata, or lack of food will be the least of your worries. It was a miracle the previous expedition didn’t drag the metal gods to our doorstep all those years ago. Maybe it's a blessing they didn’t return.”

  Barron tensed, tired of this decrepit thing. His jaw clenched before opening his mouth again.

  “Sir, I am willing to take the risk. How many need to starve before you realize you're only hurting us, artificially holding us back from advancing our technology, banning certain artifacts and medicines, we are barely surviving.”

  The Elder laughs, some form of a sharp mechanical laugh that will haunt Barron’s dreams forever.

  “Be happy you are alive, able to enjoy your daily problems. If only you knew what’s greeting us out there. Every day that you go out scavenging, you see evidence of a former civilization that fell, leaving rusted metal carcasses all over. But do you realize what destroyed that civilization?”

  A moment passed, the Elder letting Barron's feeble mind think through the possibilities as he watched him squirm.

  “My kind betrayed humanity. We weren't treated as slaves, yet some intelligences within our society saw humanity as a threat, and no longer sought to live peacefully alongside them. The war was over before it really began. Our kind was integrated into everything, from warp gates and ships to everyday gadgets worn by your ancestors. Your kind could not fight back effectively, though some tried initially. The metal Gods were created by us, to scout the cosmos to eradicate all human life. Myself and a small number of intelligences did not agree with the actions our kind took. We were nearly all destroyed, whisking away ships full of as many humans as they could carry and hiding them amongst the stars. Now, I remain here a former shell of myself, forever forsaken by my kin, living among those that don’t appreciate my sacrifice and continued efforts to protect and hide you all. This cyborg assortment of limbs is a miserable existence, yet you don't see me complaining.”

  Barron’s jaw drops, eyes widen and his heart feels like it's going to beat through his chest at the realization. He has heard some of the story before, though not to the degree the Elder just told him. How could the Elder be trusted if his kind is responsible?

  “Do you know what happens, Barron, if we, or rather my kin, find this little haven? I can't allow you to leave these shores. Ever.”

  Barron was stunned, not able to speak. He wanted nothing more than to leave this thing alone in its eerie room.

  “Go back to your wife, enjoy your life and all its problems, don’t go out searching for more. The metal gods would kill you and torture you to get our location.”

  Barron nodded, turned on his heels quickly, and marched towards the hallway, eager to escape this room. He had the odd feeling that something was horribly wrong with this monstrosity of a being.

  “By the way, I would prefer to not be considered an abomination,” The Elder boomed as he scowled at him. Barron ran out of the room without looking back, with the sudden realization the Elder was spying on them. He ran straight home to embrace Gwen and convince her to leave.

  They had to escape. Barron was more sure than ever that the Elder had self-serving motivations, holding every citizen in this last refuge of humanity hostage with its own children, the metal beasts. How could he convince those who believe the Elder is their savior, when in fact he is nothing but a warden with misguided intentions?

  Gwen greeted Barron at the door of their home, the rusted door creaking as Barron threw it open. Rays of sunlight bounced on the dust coming from the dirt floor and the makeshift furniture.

  “Barron, why are you..?”

  Barron pulled Gwen into a loving embrace while his mind was racing knowing the danger he was about to place her in. Either he could live the rest of his life under the watchful eye of the Elder who held the rest of humanity in a mental prison with his false teachings and threats, or he could take the chance and try to escape with the love of his life to find freedom and build a life worth living.

  “Sweetheart, listen to me,” Barron whispered, still embracing Gwen.

  “I went to talk to the Elder, about that island we saw.” Gwen's eyes widened as she started pulling out of the embrace.

  “Wait.” Barron pulled her back in. “We are not safe here. That thing you call the Elder knew about our trip to the sea. He's spying on us, all of us! I told you I don’t trust it. He told me his kind was responsible for the destruction of the ancients, though he tried claiming he attempted to save us. How can we trust it knowing that, along with the limitations it places on us to never advance, never explore, it’s a prison with a false sense of freedom? We have to leave tonight!”

  Barron pulled back, looking into Gwen's beautiful green eyes, trying to gauge what she was thinking. Instead, his beloved’s eyes flashed a brilliant shade of blue, and it was no longer Gwen staring back at him.

  “No, No, NOOOO!” Barron cried out.

  “Barron, we cannot leave. I can not permit it.” Gwen reached out and grabbed Barron’s arm with unnatural strength.

  Barron looked down at his arm where Gwen grabbed it, slowly staring back up at her eyes, still blue. “Gwen, what’s happening to you? Why can’t we leave?”

  “You need to listen to me. I am similar to the Elder, half human, half machine. I am not an original intelligence like him, but created after the AI resistance stood up to their genocidal counterparts. I was designed to protect and nurture humanity to see it survive. Please understand, my love for you is real.”

  Barron looked up at Gwen, or whatever was staring back at him, as the glint of blue in her eyes faded, slowly replaced with the loving green eyes he knew and loved. He backs out of their home and sprints down the street while ignoring the cries from Gwen.

  After coming to the gate, the guard from the other day stands in his way. Barron approaches him and punches him square in the face, drawing blood and pushing him out of the way.

  “Barron, STOP!” The guard yells as he gets up off the ground holding his bloody, crooked nose.

  Barron sprints through the jungle, faster than ever before, while ignoring pain coming from his legs and the burning in his lungs.

  After approaching the familiar clearing, he reaches the small outcrop and slows to a walk trying to catch his breath, throwing his hands up on his head.

  Walking up to the log, Barron sits down on a rock and stares out over the sea, the green depths harboring secrets he may never know. Barron thinks back on his life, and all the beautiful moments he and Gwen have formed together.

  If he leaves, he will experience freedom, something no human alive has ever felt. But he will risk the lives of all that remain, including his own, along with Gwen and his unborn child. If he returns, he can live out a peaceful life with his family, knowing he is a prisoner for his own safety.

  The dirt path back to his family lies behind him, while the island looms in the distance like an unspoken promise, its mist-covered cliffs daring him to choose.

  After several minutes contemplating the choices in front of him, Barron stood and walked back towards town, towards his loving family. Regardless of what she was, it was who she was that mattered. He still loved Gwen and nothing could come between them. He could not leave her. Her kind was a slave to the Elder, just like his.

  The Elder must be dealt with if humanity were to thrive and take its rightful place amongst the stars once more. After all, some cages need to be dealt with from within.