Chapter Three: Ancile

November 3rd, 2004 by Mabel
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In all my years of dreaming about the cosmos and faraway places, Ancile was perhaps the last stop in my mind. It was this little planet two hours by pod from Caelestis which no sane Immortal would ever go to even for a simple scientific excursion. As such, the people had to be self-sufficient, self-governing; they could depend on no one but themselves. It seemed interesting to note that these were parallels to the ancient Penal colonies of Earthly times.One of the more noticeable things about this colony was that transformation of the landscape through the presence of the Fallen Ones. In less than thirty years, they had transformed a barren landscape into fertile, lush fields of maize, rice, wheat, sorghum, barley, vegetables and fruits…even flowers of all sorts – traditional and hybrid species alike. The people toiled with their hands, choosing to reserve the technology for the more important aspects of life such as agricultural research, technical production of tools, materials and lastly genetic engineering.

The reaction to my arrival had not only met my expectations. It exceeded it. I had hoped for cold stares, quiet murmurings, stiff postures, and sterile emotions, just as I would had I arrived on Caelestis from another planet. Instead I was greeted quite warmly, nearly civil but with some emotions. Some members of the community were nice enough to help me settle into my new ‘home’, but it would seem that a good majority of them were sceptical about my presence here on Ancile.

When word of me originating from Caelestis broke out, they become more hostile towards me and even the few who were around in the beginning drifted away.

I was essentially alone.

62nd Day of the year 3031 (3rd March, 3031)

Aglaia wiped the sweat from her brow, taking in a deep breath, the primate hoe dug deep into the dark soil. Staring up towards the rising sun, she sighed with relief as the buzz came, signalling the end of another early morning shift in the fields. Exhausted, she doused herself with some of cold spring water, wiping away the remnants with her bare, blistered hands. For a moment it stung, causing her to grimace and bite down hard on her lower lip. So here I am, after one month of leaving my clean, comfy quarters back on Caelestis, with my psychology qualifications and training, getting my hands grubbily dirty with worms, vegetables and what-nots. What utter luck. Throwing down her dirty sweat-stained cloth, she slump down on the wooden bench nearby, rueing the day she accepted the assignment.

“Drink?”

A shadow fell over her as she sat musing on her bad luck. Peering up, she caught glimpse of the most fascinating green eyes that she had ever seen and turned a soft shade of red before nodding and reaching out for the translucent glass. He smiled at her, tipped his hat to form a little wave and before Aglaia could utter a response, the man walked away. Sighing, she picked up the glass, downed the drink and examined it rather closely. The regime in Caelestis never used glasses for their drink but little jar-like objects made from molten graphite which were discarded once used. It was cleaner, recyclable and cheaper to produce. Glasses like this were considered a rarity and Aglaia knew of some officers in the Antiquities Department who would love to get their hands on this.

Pausing for a moment, she looked around her. There were a group of children playing what seemed like a crude game of sticks and stones amongst themselves. A few women were standing nearby, chatting away boisterously while holding onto baskets of Romaine lettuce, beetroot and carrots. She watched them as they continued to talk about their lives, their partners and even children animatedly. The regime will have a field day when they find out that some of these women had babies years ago through this initial trial tests of this ‘fertility’ drug. Babies who are smart and gifted as well. It does seem like the merger of both worlds. Trouble is, would it be good for all of us?

During her musings, Aglaia had initially failed to notice the gradual silence of the crowd around her and some of the icy glances directed towards her. When she finally did, she steeled her resolve, picked up the glass and walked passed them. The whispers became louder, as if done on purpose.

“Isn’t she the one from Caelestis?” “What is she doing here?” “I heard she’s here as a spy.” “I heard they banished her because she hit someone in rage.” “No, I reckon it’s because she looks like that.” “I remember her. She was the one they put in charge of those mad science projects.”

Aglaia turned around sharply, her eyes narrowing sharply as she stared at some of the offending women. Silence greeted her instead and the women began to disperse. Some of the children stuck out their tongues at her in disgust, chuckled at themselves and ran off. She was alone again. Slumping, Aglaia turned around and started ambling nearly zombie-like back to her living quarters. Oh god, I feel like I haven’t bath in a million years…well, that is not quite logical but who cares? I cannot believe that these people would only shower once after doing menial tasks like this. And how the hell am I suppose to stop this wonder drug business when all the people feel for me is nothing but hatred? In disgust, she hurls the glass towards the wooden fence enclosing the fields, causing it to break into tiny shards.

“That was not very smart of you.”

“Do I honestly look like I give a damn?” replied Aglaia irritably as she whirled around. It was the same man who handed her a drink, one of the few who have been brave enough to approach her much or less talk to her since her arrival on Ancile.

“No but you should,” he supplied casually as he walked towards the wooden fence and broken pieces of glass that laid in the mud. “The guys over at the Tech centre are going to have a field day with this. What a way to treat a rare antique such as this one here.” Bending down, he began to pick up tiny piece of glass, placing them in a little bag he carried with him. “Do you know that this glass is nearly one thousand years old? It is…I mean, was part of an antique collection belonging to one of the leaders here.” Oh great. Now I have managed to offend not only the entire population of Ancile but one of their leaders. How? By smashing an antique, perhaps a favourite.

“Maybe I should pay him a visit to apologize. Or perhaps buy him some flowers. How about chocolates? Or brownies?” Aglaia ranted on, sarcastically. The man ignored her rambles and continued to pick the broken pieces. There was a short pause of silence as Aglaia paused for a retort. She never got one.

“Well?” she enquired sharply, tapping her foot in consternation.

“You could ask him personally,” he replied after a while as he stood up to face her. Removing his hat, he began to fan himself; the little bag containing the remains of what was once a precious antique safely tied to his belt. Aglaia gasped. It can’t be. Well, it looks a little like him but I don’t ever recall him looking this handsome or this eloquent. As she continued to stare mutely, Giles smiled mischievously and placed the hat back onto his head. “What’s a matter? Hmm…what do those Mortals say…ah yes…cat got your tongue?”

She turned a shade of red and Giles burst out into peels of laughter.

“I noticed that some things have still yet to change. Now while I would love to stand around and debate about the options you have to make up for the loss of my antique, I must return to the Tech Centre for some work. Do find some way to amuse yourself…Aglaia.”

He left; left her standing in the middle of the fields, dumbfounded and alone.

At first, I was sceptical about living a fulfilling life on Ancile. In all honesty, I was expecting it to be the most horrible experience of my life. How could I feel otherwise when at every turn I made, I was greeted with nothing but insults and sarcasm? When life on the planet was a far cry from what I was used to back home? Yes, I was beginning to see Caelestis as my eternal home.Where Caelestis was clean, Ancile was dirty. Where Caelestis was crime-free, Ancile was prone to occasional petty crime like stealing someone’s vegetables or garden tools. Where Caelestis was familiar like a walk in the park, Ancile was like different, almost like venturing into the unknown with my eyes closed.

The first few weeks were bearable, I think or at least I remember it to be before things actually got worse.

I was placed in a small little hut near the administrative building which they affectionately called The Hive because of its honeycomb design. It was nothing like my room in Caelestis which had all the comforts of a modern abode; or at least comforts that work. When the door opened to my little hut made from dark fibreglass and stainless steel, I was greeted with a wooden bed with a mattress made from feathers and organic cotton, two lumpy pillows, and a few other technologically-challenged tools like that intercom which never seems to work or the automatic door that had to be kicked a couple of times before it would finally open.

I should not even start ranting about the food I got during my first few weeks but what the heck. My first meal was in the form of soggy, overcooked, bug-laced vegetables, which I later found out was a norm. Someone high up in the social structure on this planet dictated that bugs were good for human consumption. Never mind that studies have shown that humans have a shorter life span because of their ‘dirty’ eating habits. Then again, these studies were made by the officers on Caelestis regime. As far as the people on Ancile were concerned, they were just eating another form of life was of benefit to the human body. And meat? Inconsistently cooked and served in the most disgusting of manners. If I was lucky, I would get fully cooked meat for a few nights in a row. If not, it would be nearly half-cooked and sometimes burnt. At times I wondered if the cook was suffering from mood swings or had problems with his vision and olfactory senses.

When I suffered a bout of food poisoning – a disease that I thought had been wiped out at the beginning of the New World Order – I got my first taste of what it must have felt like to be one of my Earth ancestors during the second millennium. The medical centres here were not up to regime standards and I basically went through unexplainable hell for a few days. Unexplainable because the medical officers could not tell what was wrong with me until I ended my bout of purging, vomiting and constant stomach cramps. Couple that with the ostracising treatment that I got from even the officers and what I had was just pure hell.

Then again, I don’t really blame them.

The regime never placed much importance on the welfare of a colony like Ancile. The entire exercise to exile them had been based on the Darwinian principle of survival. What the Council never counted on was that the propensity for the human society to band together and assist one another. Such was effects of emotion on the structural organization of society itself.

Whatever the colony possessed, it was through sheer ingenuity and effort, not to mention a few scientific breakthroughs and discoveries. They had taken much good from the history of mankind and applied what they knew of science to the growth of this colony and the end result was a thriving, self-sustaining group of individuals who once were viewed as the lepers of the New World Order had become a strong band of rebels.

Why did I call them rebels? Because they were, even though they had not known of it then.

92nd Day of the year 3031 (2nd April, 3031)

Aglaia stared at her holographic reflection, her hands moving robotically, combing the soft long hazel-brown strands of hair. Looking at her profile for several seconds and cocking her head from side to side, she smiled, pleased with her appearance. It was the Harvest Festival, one of the bigger celebrations on Ancile. As its name suggested, it was basically a party to commemorate the end of another year of plentiful year and harvest. Children and adults were invited to participate in this night of dancing, feasting and camaraderie.

Smoothening the imaginary wrinkles on her silk dress, she wondered if she had overdressed for the Festival. Should I even be going in the first place? It has been two months and still they have yet to show signs of warming up to me. As a matter of fact things just went worse, like yesterday when that woman called me an android. What an insult. She gazed at her reflection, making a tiny twirl to see all of herself. It was a little something she had purchased at Caelestis for quite a huge sum of credits but never found an occasion for it. The dress, made from hand-spun white silk with an embroidered flowery pattern that trailed from the shoulder to the hem, was cut and stitched together in such a way that while it had a Chinese-style collar, the back was open and it flowed down very much like a traditional qipao – an Oriental style dress. Silk was an extremely rare commodity in the New World Order and only available on certain planets as the creatures used in the production were picky ones.

Picking up a soft lace-like shawl made from acrylic nylon, she headed towards the door, kicking it a few times with her white heels. It refused to budge. Shit. Why does nothing here ever seem to work? Hitting it with her fists, she growled, flipping the shawl over her shoulder. The door still refused to budge.

“Come on you stupid door. Just one bloody night is all I ask. What is so difficult about that?” She kicked again to no avail. Taking a deep breath, Aglaia gave the door a final shove and it opened, causing her to lose her balance and fall right into Giles.

“Funny how this always seems to happen,” he chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her body, trying to keep her from failing onto the ground. “Now before you start going all shy or worse, accusatory, I do not think asking me to let go of you would be a good idea at this very moment. Unless of course, you fancy some mud on that very lovely, and I assume, very expensive dress.”

Aglaia scoffed, regaining her balance and half-heartedly pushed him away. I am turning red again. Oh no, this is just like turning fifteen all over again. I am a grown woman. What so difficult about handling him? I should get a grip of myself. Be still, my heart and quit beating like a locomotive. Smoothening back some stray strands of hair, she straightened herself and felt strangely incomplete. Aglaia started looking around, almost quizzically. Where the hell is my shawl?

“Are you looking for this, Aglaia?” asked Giles as he comically dangled it in front of her.

Scoffing, she grabbed it from him almost violently and wrapped it around her shoulders before walking past him, clearly ignoring him. The technologically-challenged door whizzed close behind them and silence permeates the surroundings. I hate him! Well, I don’t really hate him. I just dislike him. Obnoxious, arrogant little twat…and…and so disturbing handsome. Why does he have to wear that utterly gorgeous maroon jacket? As a matter of fact, what was he doing in front of my hut? Aglaia continued walking, immersed in her thoughts. Nevertheless she was well aware of the fact that Giles was trailing happily beside her, watching the range of emotions flickering through her face.

“You owe me something, Aglaia,” he reminded her gently.

“What?” They stopped walking and Giles smiled as she turned slowly to face him. She looked radiant. The bright Ancile sunshine had brought some colour to her once pale skin and her soft hazel brown curls framed her pixie-like face beautiful. It made her look more feminine, more womanly; she looked nothing like how he remembered her to be when they first met ten years ago – all nerdy, bookish and quite aggressive. Then again, he was not the same person that he was before. He moved closer towards her and Aglaia took a step back defensively.

“You owe me an antique…or have you already forgotten?” This nearness, this disappearance of space between her and Giles was scaring Aglaia. Hurriedly she side-stepped him and walked away. Behind her, she could hear him chuckling. I need to get out of here. I need to walk faster. I need to-

Wrapped up in her thoughts, Aglaia had failed to watch out for mud puddles and proceeded to step into one, causing some mud to stain her white heels and her silk dress.

“Now look at what you made me do!!!!” Shit! Shit! Shit! How will I ever get this off! I’ll never forgive him!

“Me? What did I do?” asked Giles, innocently as he grinned from one ear to another.

“You made me lose my-” Aglaia broke off when she realized that she was about to give herself away. “Never mind.” She stomped away, heading back towards her hut.

“Awww…come on. Don’t be angry. Hey!” yelled Giles. Aglaia paused and turned around, placing one hand on her hip. What do you want, you obnoxious toad? “You can easily wash that off without leaving a stain; that is if you would let me show you how.”

Giles took out a tiny bottle and a small piece of rag from his jacket pocket, walked towards her and knelt down in front of her. Aglaia looked around, feeling rather embarrassed. He poured some translucent liquid onto the rag and rubbed it onto the stained bits of the shoe and dress. His fingers brushed her skin causing her stomach to flutter. She shivered slightly, her cheeks turning red.

“There you go. Good as new,” he exclaimed as he stood up, storing away the rag and bottle into his pocket. Aglaia stared mutely at him, distracted by unknown sensations beleaguering her body. What is happening to me? It is not chilly; there was no breeze; so why am I shivering? And why are my cheeks flushed? They feel hot. This is not supposed to be happening. I am an Immortal. I am not supposed to feel anything.

Giles smiled as he held out his hand. “May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the Festival?” Mutely she took his hand. They felt big, warm and comforting, strangely comforting.

“By the way, it is okay to feel,” he whispered into her ears.

She gasped.

People rebel. Animals rebel. Nature rebels. Life rebels.It is just the way things are. Sometimes the understanding of it is beyond our comprehension. Rebellion is a form of change, be it negative or positive. Without change, there can never be a future. Neither can there be a past. Change is vital for progression.

Can we imagine standing forever at an eternal spot in time and never moving forward or backwards? Is it even possible to not rebel against something?

You see, life is never clear-cut, neither is it black or white nor is it unchanging.

People fall in love. People grow old. People die.

It is just a question of when.

And yet, everywhere we go, we find evidence of societies attempting to thwart change, to halt change, to even banish change. The regime thought that by creating an emotional-less society, we would stay civilised forever. That by removing the very basis of evil – the heart – we would retain good in all man and thus remain the way we were at the beginning of the New World Order.

The regime had not counted on the fact that life often finds a way of moving forward. That nature will somehow find its way back to the way it was made to be.

That they would fail.

In a way, the Council was beginning to change, despite them denying the fact. Despite them blinding themselves to it. The change that they feared had indirectly stemmed from their own doing and their reaction has serve no purpose but fuel the little bud of emotion that is inherent in all man.

The human society is one that will always rebel, change and feel.

It is the way things are.

It is the way it will always be for us.

The Festival was held in one of the main buildings on the colony. It was a hall that was used for a variety of activities from sports to assembly meetings. The place was functional with its simple, nicely sized design. Its walls were bare and there were not many glass screens. Tonight would see a transformation to this dull colony building. From afar, Aglaia could hear music, and laughter. It would have been hard to miss the building. The men had taken some time out to decorate the front with sparkling multi-coloured round laser lights. Giles smiled knowingly. It was his idea to decorate the hall extravagantly for this year’s celebrations. Some of the men wondered if it was to impress one of the women and teased him about it but he merely waved away their jibes.

They paused for a moment in front of the hall; perhaps for Aglaia to steel her nerves before facing the unfriendly crowd. She looked up, her eyes taking in the delicious sight before her, her mind completely swept away by the magnificence of it. Arches of flowers stood before her in full bloom; roses, gerberas, hyacinths, jasmines, violets and lilies. The flowery blend of aromas reached her nostrils, causing her to breathe the sweet spring-like smells deeply. Giles watched on, a gentle smile forming on her face. He wanted to reach out and push back a lock of stray hair, to touch her soft skin, to sniff that tender spot along the back of her ears. Realizing the direction of his thoughts, he cleared his throat and shook his head a little, as if to clear himself of this drunken stupor.

“Shall we?” he asked hoarsely, adjusting his jacket a little.

“Wait.” Before Giles could ask why, Aglaia stepped up to him and firmly adjusted his tie. He could smell her hair. The fragrant smell of honey, bananas and almond. It wharfed into the air, and for that one moment, as he looked down at her, watching her adjust his tie, he felt complete. “Okay…it looks good now,” she excitedly explained, resting her hands on his chest. He smiled at her and Aglaia jumped back, as if stunned. Turning red, she moved ahead of him, into the umbrella-arches of flowers. What the heck made me do that? I am here on a mission, goddamnit. Not to get a life partner. Bah. As if that is even remotely possible.

“Aglaia,” he called as he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “Sometimes even the impossible can be possible.” He winked at her and before she could come up with a retort, he pushed open the doors and they entered.

The crowd went silent. Aglaia sighed. I knew this was not a good idea. Why the heck did he have to turn it into a grand entrance? Oops. I forgot. He is the leader of Ancile. Oh god. They are staring again. Staring in that way. This is going to be one long night. The silence was ominous. Aglaia unconsciously gripped Giles’ hand harder. He patted her hand reassuringly, as he took it the stares; some in awe, some in disgust, some in shock.

Sometimes he wondered why the people saw her as a threat to the stability of Ancile. He found Aglaia an interesting combination of both old and new. In her, he felt, was the catalyst he needed to spark a change through the New World Order and ultimately, be a tool he could use to topple the regime. What he had not counted was the renewal of the memories he had of her, and the fact that he was beginning to find her attractive as a life-partner.

“Giles!” A voice in the crowd yelled out to him.

“I must go. Talk to you later?” he reassured as he dropped her hand and went away. Aglaia sighed. She was beginning to feel that this might become another routine – meet under the most embarrassing of circumstances, talk as if they were about to break into a fight and then leave at a whim without her ever saying anything back to him. Looking around to see only cold faces staring back at her, she retreated slowly towards a hover-stool. Gently sitting on it – hover-stools had this propensity of turning crazy without warning – she fiddled with the clasp on her matching clutch trimmed with white faux fur and trying to console herself for the moment.

The crowd, noticing that they had little to no impact on Aglaia, gradually returned back to its boisterous self. Laughter and music filled the hall once more and this time, couples began to dance animatedly in the middle on the specially constructed tiled fibreglass dance area. For a moment, Aglaia smiled at the image before her eyes; an image of happy, laughing Immortals of all ages. Some were exchanging hugs, others were kissing and she began to wonder if this was ever such a bad thing after all.

Noticing a long banquet table at the side of the hall, she slowly slid off the hover-stool but it went into one of its mad bouts and proceeded to upset her balance, causing her to stumble off it in an almost comical manner. Cussing beneath her breath, she smoothened her dress and stood up, only to find some women giggling and laughing at her.

“What a total klutz!” “Yeah…what the hell was she at Caelestis? A comedian?” “I wonder if they exiled her for making them laugh with her stupid antics.” Peels of laughter broke out amongst the small group of women. Aglaia attempted to move away from them as fast as she could but her heels made walking fast extremely difficult.

“What’s a matter, sweetie? Are we making you feel uncomfortable?” sneered one woman as the she blocked her path of escape; the others began to close in like a pack of wild dogs circling their trapped prey. Aglaia began to panic and looked around for assistance. At every turn, people looked away, leaving her utterly alone and at a lost. Shit. How did I get myself into this? I was just minding my own bloody business. It just does not tally up logically. Shit!

“Nice bag there. How much did it cost your pretty little hide?” drawled another woman, dressed in an outfit that had peacock feathers attached to the top. “Come on…let’s have a look at it.” Peacock-woman made a grab for the clutch causing Aglaia to stumble back in alarm into another woman dressed in a simple black shimmer dress. She gasped in consternation and pushed Aglaia back in the circle which was closing in on her. Aglaia began to find it hard to breathe, her head feeling almost dizzy as the women continued jibbing her.

“Did you slaughter a mink for that bag?” “Is that dress for real?” “You look like a tart.” “That shawl is such a laugh.”

Why are you doing this to me? Why won’t anyone help me? She could see that people knew what was going on but they ignored her anyway. What did I do wrong to you people? Why can’t you leave me the hell alone???

On and on it went, until suddenly it stopped.

“Is something going on here, ladies?” enquired a firm but polite male voice. Aglaia stood still, nearly listlessly and clutching her head. A series of quick denials circulated the retreating crowd. My head hurts. Really badly. Coming here was definitely a bad idea. I think I ought to leave. Why the hell did I take this bloody assignment? She looked around her. There was no more music, no more dancing, just silence and stares. Stares directed at her. To her. I need to get away. I hate this place! I hate it so much! Staggering away, she fled the hall, nearly crashing into one of the flower arches, tears filling her eyes for the first time. I don’t need this. Leave me alone! Stopping at a corner away from the hall, she could hear the return of music and laughter, perhaps a hint of forced laughter echoing. She leaned against the wooden fence for support, tears streaming down her face. What is happening to me? What is all this…wetness? Am I going mad?

“It is called tears and it is a projection of the emotions that you feel.” Aglaia whirled around, shocked, and stumbled against the wooden fence, scraping her soft hands.

“It’s alright. It’s just me,” explained Giles as he hurried towards her, clasping his hands around his shoulder. He took into her tear-stained face, the sadness in her eyes and his heart constricted tightly. He knew she was upset, even frightened. “It didn’t look that friendly in there, huh?”

Aglaia looked up, gazing into his enquiring yet concerned eyes and felt a fresh bout of tears clouding her vision. Before she knew what overcame her, she buried her head in his jacket and began babbling incoherently.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. It is just not logical. I was sitting there and watching the crowd. When I got up, that stupid hover-chair threw me off and that was when they started throwing those jibes at me. I mean I hear it all the time but not at this close proximity. And when that peacock woman started approaching me…” Giles chuckled at her reference to Katica, one of his administrative officers. “…and she was threatening me and it felt different. I started feeling dizzy. I just wanted to leave.”

“You were scared. That’s all.” He began stroking her hair softly, breathing in her smell ever so lightly. Aglaia began to relax in his arms and for a while, they both stood there, warm in each other’s embrace. She wrapped her hands around his waist, dropping her clutch bag unto the ground, grinding her cheek into his jacket, snuggling up to him. This feels heavenly.

“Yes it does,” he agreed softly. Aglaia pulled back immediately with a sharp stare at him. Never mind the fact that he looked utterly delicious in the moonlight. Giles looked at her enquiringly.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You know…talk as if you know what I am thinking about. There was no way I said what I thought out loud.” Giles took a step forward, clasping her shoulders gently and gazing down at her, his green eyes glittering in the dark.

“I can, Aglaia…because I am a telepath.” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“But that’s impossible! Telepaths don’t exist. Not anymore and not in this part of the cosmos.”

“Yes they do. There is a first for everything, remember? Nature will find a way. I am a mild telepath. I can’t read every thought…just the bits and pieces which people are not aware of producing. The bits and pieces that matter to me anyway.” He took a step forward, tilting her chin up so that he could look into her dark eyes. What is he doing?

“Close your eyes…trust me.” Aglaia obeyed and before she could guessed what he was about to do, felt a soft pair of lips touched hers, pressing gently yet firmly. A strange almost pleasurable sensation began to wash over her. Shivering slightly, she moved closer towards him, wrapping her arms around him. Giles could feel her body quivering against his and he deepened his kiss, beckoning her to open her warm, tantalizing mouth. Her lips had tasted sweet, like strawberries and peach and he was hungry for more. Using his tongue, he softly persuaded.

Aglaia hesitated, and broke away from him, nearly stumbling back as she did so. Her breaths were shallow and quick. Her heart was palpitating uncontrollably. She swallowed nervously before running away from him.

Giles stood still, watching her figure running through the uneven pathway. He could still taste her on his lips. Turning, he noticed her bag lying on the ground and picked it up, smiling at the sight of faux fur ruffling in the gentle night breeze. He looked towards her retreating direction and smiled to himself. There will always be another time, he told himself before walking back towards the hall.

Aglaia stopped in front of her hut, panting and frantically kicking the door. It opened easily and she breathed a sigh of relief as it closed shut. Sitting down on her bed, she took a deep breath, attempting to understand what had transpired just moments ago between her and Giles, in the hall, the entire night. It drove her insane, just thinking about it. Clutching her head, she curled to her side. It cannot be. I cannot feel this way. The warm fluttery feeling; the hesitation, the pain, the…fear…I am not supposed to. It just cannot be.

A voice ringed in her pain. A voice of the past. Her past.

“But aren’t we humans as well? Aren’t humans endowed with the ability to feel? Didn’t we learn that feeling was part of being a human? Immortals are humans too. We share the same genetic codes, don’t we? So why should it be wrong?”

Aglaia felt torn. Her head began to pound and she began to see fuzzy spots in her field of vision. There was a certain buzzing in her ears and she felt as if she could keel over in pain. A migraine. An ancient ailment. The first time in her life. His words came back to haunt her.

“There is a first for everything.”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 3rd, 2004 at 12:39 pm and is filed under NaNoWriMo 2004. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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