Zarachia

*note, i write these stories a google docs before tranferring them to inkitt. Unfortunately the italics dont go through, so some things may seem off. I currently dont know how to fix that.*

“Is he breathing?!” I yelled through tears.

Gunfire, screaming, bloodshed

“Get back on the field soldier, you have no time to stall!”

Paramedics in make-shift medical tents, limited space, more bloodshed

“I’m not leaving until he’s opened his eyes!” I screamed. I choked through my own sobs.

This was war. We were in the middle of a war, not against another nation, no. We were battling a Demigod. But that would be put on hold. I didn’t care, I couldn’t while my only friend was on the verge of death. He was worth more than the world to me, I would trade the entire universe a million times over just for him.

We were both soldiers, and though our training called for quite the opposite, we were very close, extremely close. Nothing could pull us apart, ever. Even when we were separated into different classes, even when we got sent off to war, we still managed to stay together almost always. Even though I was royalty and he was a city boy, we never left each other’s side.

“Get back out there now! Do you think we have space for a girl weeping over her boy? We’re too short on medics and time for that!”

“I’m not leaving Imaziah! I’ll help with your medic things, just get his eyes open!”

“You’re not trained for this! And do you see your little friend here? He’s got at least a 6 foot gash on his face and chest! You can see his lungs! There’s no use, get back on that damn field and fight!”

I didn’t want to leave. I would’ve rather died. I was forced out by a soldier from the outside, and only then did I see how bad everything had really gotten. The bodies of my fellow soldiers lay peppered on the ground, some of which I recognized.

I looked up to the Demigod Kakomnit. She was a horribly beautiful sight, destroying miles and miles worth of land. She was like an earth tiger mixed with an owl. A long, feathered, strong and agile body with a long tail, and the head of an owl. She had massive, winding horns that seemed to have almost a forest growing off of them. Her long body was covered in massive spines like small mountains, as well as her tail. She had massive eyes that looked like they could have entire galaxies in them. She had a gnarly scar over one of them.

She let out bloodcurdling screeches as she was shot with industrial crossbows. Her screeches were out of annoyance rather than pain, nothing was penetrating that skin. She lifted one of her massive paws off the ground. Her claws were ragged and spined.

Only the gods could know what happened here. This planet was doomed. The planet of the supreme god herself. This god-beast was impossible to beat. My dear friend was torn apart by one of her brainwashed L’Natins. These beasts looked like minotaurs with an extra pair of arms, and instead of hooved, massive venomous claws, and there were thousands of them running around, as well as thousands of other species of all kinds.

Venomous. L’Natins are Venomous. Imaziah is gone.

I choked harshly on sobs as I watched Kakomnit tear through a battalion with one careless flick of her paw. What was to happen to the planet? My family was probably dead. I tried not to think about it.

“Soldier! No time to mourn!”

“Soldier, back on your damn feet!”

“We need everyone we can! We need more medics! Fend off the smaller beasts!”

There were so many voices from all around. Beasts were getting ridiculously close to the medic tents and there were maybe 12 cemeteries worth of bodies just in my view. I looked far to the north of where I stood. Despite the ever-growing chaos, I was frozen. There were about 16 more battalions belonging to Zorolistrainia. They marched with their king leading. I was of royal blood, my sister an heir to the throne of Raxi, and I knew it was rare to sacrifice your life as a king. I’d expect one of his children at the front at the very most. Kakomnit made mile-long strides towards the mountains.

Please, oh please any god. Someone, Save my planet. Save Imaziah. Save me.

There was a massive blinding beam of light from the tip of the huge mountain separating Raxi from Zorolistrainia. The world froze. Everyone stared, and the god-beast reared and let out a deafening screech. Most if not everyone buckled over, a few even dying from the sheer shock. There was a tall, strong figure on top of the mountain with shaggy white hair, and almost glowing red eyes. He carried a beautiful, massive battle axe that was probably no smaller than me.

Zarachian god Ori’Archa Ikloy of Zorolistrainia, Zarachia. Young god of emotion and physical strength. Wields a 10-foot long double-headed battle axe.

We’re saved.

He ascended slowly down the mountain, the beast screeching and rearing in protest. She knows her fate. Ori’Archa stopped, then raised his axe to the sky. After a moment, two more beams of light struck the mountain side by side. There were two more men, more on the short side. The shortest one had a massive rifle of sorts, and the taller one wielded a greatsword.

Xian god Zymir Ikloy of Wexiv, Shinol. Young god of intelligent life. Wields a 7-foot long greatsword. Human god Hadeon Bychkov of Russia, Earth. Young god of death and destruction. Wields an Kalashnikov AK-47.

They would need a lot of power to take down Kakomnit. As the god reared and screeched out of fear, her loyal beast subjects scrambled to her as quickly as possible.

Again, Ori’Archa raised his battle axe and one more beam struck the mountain. A periwinkle-skinned woman with a stocky build and one large eye appeared.

Aetherainian god Kyat’troka Nuevera Veeranka of Northern Musewei Litheren, Litheren. Goddess of the moons. Combats with heightened Aetherian magic.

The beast seemed to freeze with some emotion I couldn’t place in its wild eyes. If I remember correctly, this god is the beast's sister. All its mind-controlled beasts stopped with it, as it seemed the rest of the world had. I tore my eyes away from the sight of her for just a second. That second was enough to see all the fear from the people around me. Even some of the injured rose from the tents to see what was going on.

Was a deadly war between gods fated for this planet? Were we to be destroyed?

Surely not, Ori’Archa would not let his planet of origin be reduced to ruins. A soft breeze passed through the area, betraying the harsh fear that had frozen the planet. All of a sudden, the four gods moved quickly to all sides of the beast. Kakomnit began to retreat, destroying miles more of land. It was unreal to see, the gods snared her somehow and forced her up to the stars to battle her there. The battle was visible, five distant glows, colliding with each other in a deadly dance.

She was lifted off the planet. That was it. After all that.

The plague she controlled the beasts with wore off, after all that.

One of the only people I care for, gone. Had the gods appeared maybe 10 minutes earlier, Imaziah would’ve been next to me right then. I kicked the dirt. I fell to my knees and screamed my heart out. I wished the ache in my chest would just fall right out with the scream so I couldn’t feel the pain. I honestly didn’t care that we were saved. I was scared, but that was just the spur of the moment.

He may very well be dead just 20 feet behind me with absolutely nothing I could do about it. I felt like a corpse as I slowly turned around. I was going to confirm nobody could do anything for him. My walking slowed the closer I got, as if I was trying to lift lead blocks off the ground with my feet. The sharp iron tang of blood caught my throat as I breathed in. This blood was not mine. I felt like I might throw up on myself. I watched the medic scramble aggressively around inside the tent, trying to tend to all the injured.

I pushed into the tent. I knew I shouldn’t have been in there, I was taking up space and time. I didn’t care enough. I turned my head around to look at him. The wound was patched with bandages stained a shocking salmon color, and he was hooked up to several different machines.

His chest was not rising, nor was it falling. A sob caught in my throat, allowing a choked noise through almost like a cry. The heart rate monitor hooked up to him displayed a horrible flat line. The medic worked hard to keep him alive. I hated this so much, watching Imaziah dance with death, but for some reason I refused to look away. No matter how much I wanted to look somewhere else, anywhere else, I was fixated on him.

I started praying. I prayed to Zymir, I prayed to AunJem and Siyanam, any god that could hear me. I prayed desperately, my words shaking just as much as my hands. Tears fell onto my hands as I shook.

Please, please, please, please, please please please.

I needed to see him breathe.

Hold on for me.

The medics were trying to close the opened wounds. They knew he was gone. The only reason they kept up at this point was because the war with Kakomnit was over so I was their princess instead of their fellow soldier once again. Imaziah’s wound was also infected. L’natins attack with flesh eating microbes. I could see the skin browning and rotting around his wounds. Surely that had spread to his organs already too.

Were they just playing with his corpse?

No more. He was gone.

I exited the tent. My vision was blurred as memories I had with him sickeningly swirled in my vision, distorting my reality. I think I threw up on myself, but I couldn’t tell. I watched the first time we met, his different colored eyes examining mine, one golden orange like melted iron, the other such a deep and dark brown you could be pulled into it and never resurface. His rich brown matted hair, his tiny horns and a little body so skinny he just looked of bone and thin flesh. We were five, around three thousand seven hundred in human years.

The vision was ripped away from me, and was replaced just as quickly. We were edging up on our teenage years. The first time I had broken a bone in training. He was standing over me, trying to comfort me as guards rushed over. He held my good hand in his and told me he was there for me. He was well groomed then, after I brought it upon myself to take care of him. His dark wavy hair became a richer, healthier brown, his horns were quickly growing, and his caramel skin was clean and almost unscathed.

Again, the vision was ripped away as fast as it appeared, only to be replaced with another.

Two nights ago. This was from two nights ago, when we were preparing for the war against Kakomnit. Our suicide mission. Before we were deployed, he gave me a quick peck on my cheek. A symbolic gesture on Zarachia. He was giving a final goodbye to me, thanking me for everything I gave him along the way.

You made a life better. You helped a man through his childhood and now he’s giving his life for the planet.

He was only 20. He was 20 years old with so much life ahead of him. I struggled to keep myself up, then failed to completely. The illusions faded with my vision and strength, and I fell. My world was no darker now than it was before my vision failed me.

“Who are you?” A boy asked me. He was small and scruffy and skinny. His tangled hair and dirty face made him look like a rabid dog. I giggled at his defensive stance. His face went pink, and he let out a small huff. “I’m not jokin’ around! Tell me who ya are or scram!” He said, kicking up some loose dirt.

“I’m a princess. I’m princess Sireuki, don’t you know me?” I asked. He looked confused.

“No, I don’t. I didn’t know Raxi had royalty,” he said. He looked at me like he didn’t trust what I was saying, or frankly, me.

“This place is gonna tear you up. You should go back to your palace, princess,” he added, half-smirking.

Something about him told me to take him with me. He was spunky and alive despite his conditions. He was also the first person who wasn’t intimidated by my royalty. So that’s exactly what I did, I took him with me. I tempted him with food and comfortable living and he complied after some dirty looks and slight protest. I didn’t know what it was like to be homeless and without family, but I’m sure rejecting food and warmth was on the bottom of one’s list.

He’s better years later. He’s not skinny anymore, he’s put on good weight and he looks healthy. His horns aren’t damaged anymore, and are growing just as quickly as he is. He’s the closest one I’ve got and I’d guard him with my life. He keeps me sane and I keep him in check and healthy. But for some reason, he’s gotten more jumpy and nervous over the years.

The other day, he seemed heightened with anxiety. He thanked me for taking him in, out of nowhere. He had said it out of nowhere and it caught me off guard. He had never thanked me, and I never expected thanks. He seemed half-lost in thought, tightly gripping something in his hand. He grabbed my hand and placed the object into it, never letting his eyes stray away from whatever void they were in. I looked at it inquisitively. It was a small, mangled and browned piece of paper, with scrappy writing on it.

Imaziah Ki’Arch Sex: male DOB: 6/28/450090 NZE spc: Zarachian. Parents Ikanirin Ik’Arch and Meyle Erio’Archa died in war. Son and daughter are to be sent to local orphanage.

I was at a loss for words. He was supposed to be at an orphanage, and more shockingly, he had a sister? I felt tempted to ask but I was worried it was a sensitive topic. I had always though he’d been abandoned or he just ran away from his parents,

“I have little memories of my parents. After social services figured my situation out, they sent me to an orphanage. My sister fell ill and I escaped without her. She’s gone now, I think. Anyways, you would expect a five year old wouldn’t survive the Raxi streets. I don’t think I would’ve one more year if you didn’t come for me” He said, still not looking away from the void. I knew now that the void was his horrid memories.

Years later, it’s as if he’s taking care of me. He’s larger than me now, not by much but still surprising remembering the little dirty rat boy he was. I didn’t know, nor did I want to know where I would be now if I didn’t have him. I’ve convinced mother and father to let him live in the palace. No more dirty streets or overgrown forest for him. He stays in the room closest to mine, but father said if he went into my room I would have his remains on display on my fireplace mantle. That doesn’t stop him though, he sneaks into my room or me into his and we gossip the night away. Sometimes he even lets me do his hair.

He’s become obsessively worried about random things, things that he refuses to speak to me about. It’s starting to scare me. He’s gone as far as boarding up his window, and replacing electric lights with oil lamps. He has a spot on the back of his neck that’s red and bleeding all the time from scratching. And in the bottom of his shirts there’s always a threadbare spot. One of his shirts got completely destroyed from that little reoccurring threadbare spot.

This morning, war was declared on the beast-god Kakomnit. He snuck in last night, telling me how grateful he was for me. He’s been doing this a lot lately. He went from never saying it at all, to saying it at almost every possible time he could. It was weird. I asked him if he was okay as a joke, and In kind he laughed at my question. He’s always staring off into that void. Some day, I wish to see into it as well.

He kissed me on the cheek. He’s saying goodbye. He handed me that mangled piece with all his information. He knew that I would be in the back lines so I would have a reduced chance of dying, so he gave me that to remember him when I survived and he didn’t. But he would survive, I would make sure of it.

The undertone of his goodbye didn’t settle well with me. He seemed guilty and paranoid like he did something wrong. I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to waste my last moments with him.

I woke up in my bed in Raxi with a splitting headache. The sun shone through my silk curtains with gentle morning light. There was a glass of water next to my bed with condensation on it. Still cold, I thought, as I picked it up. I closed my eyes, guzzled it down, then slammed it back onto my nightstand. I sat silently for a moment trying to recollect what had happened.

Imaziah was dead.

A noise like a choked sob rose in my throat. I opened my eyes again. There was a wall with photographs on it, mostly of me and Imaziah. On my nightstand was the browned and mangled piece of paper he gave me just two nights ago. I didn’t process what happened. In my mind, he was off in the city again. He wasn’t dead, that boy always seemed to repel death like it didn’t even exist.

I could not handle being tormented by memories of him, yet I knew I would never let them go.

I wondered what would happen if I went to sleep and never woke up. I knew mother hid suicide pills in case our royal family ever got interrogated by enemy nations.

Was I really letting myself think like this? Was I really that lost without Imaziah?

My thinking halted when there was a soft knocking on my door.

“Si-ru, can I come in?”

“Yes, Kili, come in,” I said, groaning. My sister opened the door, slipped in then shut it gently behind her. She gave me a soft smile and walked to sit next to me.

My sister Kili was the heir to the Raxi throne. She looked like me. Long brown curly hair, caramel skin, a soft face and a long slender body. But I had light pink eyes and vitiligo. She had beautiful crimson eyes and beautiful skin. She also had soft hands with her long nails painted a deep crimson like her eyes. My hands had no space for such niceties, between the calluses and the leathery skin and scars.

This is where we really differed. She was beautiful and elegant, every move was performed with perfect grace and politeness. Such as the ways of the future queen. I moved with great agility and sharp, calculated movements. I was raised to be a knight of the Raxi palace, or a soldier to fight in a war. Second-born children in royal families were always trained to be knights.

This becomes funny when a second born is traded off to marry another royal. A knight on the throne is always nerve wracking for civilians. That’ll be me someday, though I wish I didn’t have to.

My thoughts halted when my sister laid a comforting hand on my head. She sighed heavily.

“I don’t know what it was like out there,” she started, then paused. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said with another pause after, like she couldn’t find the words.

“Thank you, but I don’t need your pity,” I said, saving her the words. She almost smiled.

“You have such a hard head. You always have. Do you remember, when you were a little thing, it was your first week of knight training. You got concussed and you were on the edge of passing out, yet you played it off like everything was fine?” she asked, laughing. My head hurt too much to laugh, but I cracked a small smile.

“I don’t remember that, probably because I was concussed and young,” I replied. She laughed, annoyed.

“Always so quick with replies,” she rolled her eyes. She moved her hand down to my back and patted it. She looked at me sympathetically for a minute. I closed my eyes to try and combat the throbbing headache. She kept silent for a while, then stood up slowly so the motion wouldn’t hurt my head.

“Do you want some medicine for your head? I can make y- I can make Limeeri make you tea?” She offered. Limeeri, my beloved brother. He was friends with Imaziah too. They hung out sometimes or practiced training. He’s probably in mourning as I am.

“I don’t need anything, thank you. Were you offering Limeeri’s help because you don’t know how to boil water?” I said, making sure I threw in the right amount of attitude with the statement. She rolled her eyes again, then sat back down.

“I know a lot more than you think, smart ass,” she said, this time actually annoyed. I tried to smile but I couldn’t, so I just grunted instead. She seemed to zone out for a second, then refocused on me. “Mother ordered to have a knight’s funeral for him since he was in the middle of training to be one. He’ll be mourned for a week alongside our deceased knights and caretakers,” She said, softly. She expected it to make me happy that he’d get a glorified funeral. I felt an odd, sickening feeling brew in the deepest pits of my stomach.

I wasn’t ready to acknowledge he was gone. The funeral was confirming my biggest fears.

“I'm going to walk next to Polaris, our old caretaker and trainer. I requested to have her casket open. You’ll be with Imaziah, the choice is yours whether you want to have his casket open or not. Have you been informed of the death count? It’s one of the highest in history,” she said quietly. “1.3 billion dead and counting,” she whispered. My mouth hung open in shock. My kind, Zarachians, were basically immortal. We were gifted by the greater god Archa’LIsha with higher power. We’re massive, extremely smart, agile, and skilled. It’s hard to kill a Zarachian.

Yet, 1.3 billion dead. Half the population, gone. Mothers weeping over their deceased children, sons and daughters now without fathers, and men and women returning to their incomplete families with missing limbs and shattered hearts. It could be worse than I could ever imagine.

Kakomnit only hit one side of the planet. Clearly there were millions of deaths on the other side of Zarachia as well. I could only draw it up to the fact that the beast-god had the minds of so many creatures. There were wars at every inch of the planet.

“Sireuki?” She poked my arm gently. I flinched and turned my attention back to her. I paused for a second, searching for what to say. Before I had to, my bedroom door creaked open slowly. My brother walked in, searching me and my sister’s eyes for whatever horrid emotions we were feeling. I did the same to him, and found that his eyes were a bloodshot salmon color and his cheeks and nose were flushed pink. He was crying, probably for the past few hours.

“Si-ru, Kili,” he nodded in greeting, making sure to curl his lip into a snarl at our sister. He came and sat down on the other side of me. “How are you feeling?’ He asked me, his tone softer than usual. I shrugged and he side-hugged me. His voice had always been comforting to me even though it was very brass and hoarse.

I looked up at my brother and his eyes were rimmed with tears. He was crying again, which made me want to cry. I was always very close with my brother, he was like me. He had vitiligo, but we differed in the size of our bodies and the fact that he has sectoral heterochromia. He had mostly light pink eyes, but half of his left eye was a grey-blue color.

My sister sat silently with us, disgruntled by our brother’s presence. Even after so much death they still couldn’t even stand to be in the same room. I felt my brother tense up as well, though I couldn’t tell if it was because of his crying or if he was mad. It was most likely both, knowing him.

“Well then,” my sister said through clenched teeth, “I’ll be off now. I have things to attend to,” she stiffly stood up, and walked out of the room. My brother lifted his head to watch her leave, then relaxed once she was out of sight. He sighed slightly, then idled with his hands. Anything to both keep him from crying and thinking about Kili.

Their grudge for each other was bone-deep, and I never understood why. I barely remember a time where they had a healthy sibling relationship. I was always left out of their disputes, as they didn’t want to get me involved. Sometimes after an argument, or even just out of nowhere, they’d visit me in my quarters just to denounce one another. Our mother and father used to try and lazily sort their disagreements out, but Kili nor Limeeri would say what the argument was over or why it happened in the first place. At least not when I was there to witness it.

I have very little speculation on why they have such deep-rooted hate for each other. One idea I had was that Limeeri wanted to be king. Though he’s the biggest and most heroic out of all three of us, he’s the youngest and furthest from the throne. He’s 15 while my oldest sister is already 24. It seems to be something deeper, something carefully webbed and wound with endless fury.

Limeeri pushed his thumbs into his eyes, sighed out of his nose, then lifted his head back up.

“Almost all of my friends were taken from me. I lost Yildun, I lost Skispen, I lost Imaziah- '' He choked on his sobs mid-sentence. He planted his face into his palms again and bawled. “I lost- I lost Jetsaowa-”

He had lost all three of his closest friends and his girlfriend. The last some-what intact piece of my heart shattered to dust for my brother. Jetsaowa was a very unique girl and Limeeri cared for her with all of his heart. He would’ve protected her from anything. I remember him begging her not to fight in the war. He sobbed on his knees begging her not to go. He did the same thing to Yildun, his closest friend. Two of the same, those boys were. I was also good friends with Yildun because wherever my brother went, I followed and vise-versa. Yildun was also one of a kind, he was super sweet and polite but could always unwind and have fun.

I held him tight while he sobbed. I tried my hardest to stay strong for him, but I ended up face-planting into his shoulder and crying too.

“K-K.B. Is in the infirmary and-and- god, what did I do to deserve this?” He choked out. He cried so hard for so long that eventually his voice started to give out. I sat with him the entire time, crying just as much. The fabric on his sleeves and shirt were nearly drenched. I had never known one could cry so much, especially not Limeeri. He never cried.

“I’ve- I’ve prayed and prayed to all of the gods- my prayers fall on deaf ears! Almost everyone I love is dead,” he yelled. He looked like he was going to pass out. To be fair, I would pass out too if I cried as much as he did. I grabbed his hand to steady him and show him that I was there with him.

“Kaus will make it, I’m sure of it,” I forced out quickly.

It felt so wrong to give false hope. I didn’t know the condition Limeeri’s friend was in, but I knew he was on the front lines. I doubt anyone made it out of the front lines alive or unscathed. Limeeri just shook his head and tried to keep from sobbing more. He sat silently again for a while, trying to let us both recollect ourselves.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. I just shook my head gently and patted his back. “I didn’t come in here to cry to you,” he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Oh?” I responded, intrigued. He looked at me for a second, then looked down at his lap. He sniffled, opened his mouth then shut it after a second. He looked scared-guilty almost- like a doctor diagnosing someone with a terminal disease. I lowered my head so I could see his face. He inhaled, then looked back at me.

“Father requested you to the conference. He didn’t clarify why but he says it’s urgent."

Well that's not good.