Last of the Freyans



Elder sighed and gazed up at the sky. Green, as usual. Why should he hope for anything else? He told as much to his assistant, Alvern.

"I... uh... I don't know... uh your grace Elder sir." Elder sighed again. Every few solar cycles they sent him a new assistant so that they might learn and follow his actions. A few solar cycles ago it had been Ivis. Strong of body, weak of mind. The time before that it had been an eager student that asked to many questions, Elder forgot his name. This one was nervous and jittery. The other day he had spilt Elder`s coolberry tea. This one will come and pass. Elder thought to himself. Elder was walking through his gardens when he overheard two military officials talking.

"Vydar smashed. The seventh fleet in ruin, the siege of Gjandes broken! This is a disaster!"

"Calm, brother." the other voice said. "We have the ninth here to guard us and the planetary defenses. They will not break Tandrigith so easily."

"That's what they said on Vydar too."

This was the first news Elder had heard in a long time about Vydar. He supposed he should go to the altar for prayer. What had the gods done to help them win this war? He went nonetheless though.

The altar was crowded when he got there, but they all made way for Elder as he approached. He noticed two guards standing at the door. It was unnerving to say the least. After many prayers to the seven gods and the seven faces of Frey, Elder decided to leave back home. He was already overdue for his midday nap. Elder rose on his creaking joints when he heard a shout. A lone Freyan stood hacking away at the face of truth with a heat knife.

"Repent sinners!" He shouted. "Repent and embrace the one true God, Rothel, for if you do not we will perish at His hands!" The guards were moving quickly then. Guns drawn, points raised, sights aimed. Too late, the Freyan had set fire to the face of truth. Shots fly by Elder's head and lodge themselves in the prophet's chest. Freyan's turn and run from the altar, screaming all the while. Some don't, the true believers. The ones that remember the prophecy.

"When the holy place is shattered, the children are on their last breath, and blood splatters the faces of Frey, the last Freyan will be chosen. The one destined for greatness."

The face of truth still burns. It burns and burns and burns but nobody moves. The blood trickles from the prophet's body to pool at none other then Elder's feet. People gasp and point. Elder, not knowing what to do or where to go, turns and hobbles from the hall. Elder didn't remember how, but he finds himself in his gardens when some guards come for him. They gently escorted him to the main military base on Tandrigith. Elder looked about and noticed the depressed look on every Freyan's face. That can only mean one thing Elder thought to himself. Every Freyan in the room was arguing, but two of the younger commanders were the loudest.

"We get the transports loaded, we escort them into space, and we get the hell out of here!" Shouted one, a young lad with copper eyes.

"And where would we go? Tell me! Vydar lies in ruin, home to the Gorth now! You might as well suggest we go home to Frey herself!" Retorted the second man, a slightly older Freyan who wore a silver pinnacle upon his breast to mark him as a blooded warrior.

"And why don't we? Why don't we go home to Frey? It would be much safer than Tandrigith!"

"Because Frey is lost!" Boomed the general. An old Freyan, though not yet so old as Elder. When the general spoke, every other Freyan stopped squabbling and listened. "We have no chance making it off this rock, and we have no chance if we stay, either." The general continued. "But there is yet hope. The Last of the Freyans has been chosen. He stands before you now." Elder felt every eye in the room on him. He knew he had to say something. He cleared his throat but before he could reply, a voice cried out in a tone conveying of disbelief.

"This is our saviour? This is the one who will lead us to victory? Have the priests gone mad? This pitiful Elder can't even tend to himself!" Other cries of agreement started to go up.

"Yeah, how in hell is this old man going to save us?"

"I say, screw the prophecy, let's pick our own damn last Freyan!"

"I'd be more suited to the job than this one!"

"ENOUGH!" Boomed the general. "This Elder has been chosen! He is the only Freyan that will be chosen! Am I understood?" A defeated murmur of "yes general" went up amongst the people sitting at the table.

"Now that that's settled, we can--" He was cut off by a messenger that entered the room abruptly.

"Gorth ships, in orbit. The flagship is trying to open a communication with us!"

"Let them, I have a few things I might want to say to them."

"As you command sir!" The screen at the back of the room turned on, the general wheeled around to face it.

The creature on the screen looked like a giant worm, black dots which Elder assumed were eyes, were scattered across the head of the creature. The body was beige. A giant hole that looked like a mouth was ringed by sharp teeth. The creature was supported by six spindly appendages, four on the ground and two resting at the creature's side. Across it's back, the creature wore a cape of a multitude of colors.

"Lord Leech. A surprise. Why would you honor us with your presence? Shouldn't you be attacking a more vital Freyan planet than Tandrigith." The creature hissed at the name it was given and then laughed a similar hiss, but longer and more drawn out.

"Tandrigith is the only Freyan planet left!" The creature laughed some more.

"Tell me, Lord Leech, do the Gorth take much pleasure in destroying peaceful nations?" said the general.

"That name again! I am Gr'adef'gty III, don't forget it!"

"You are merely a lord among leeches to us."

"You are too arrogant. My fleet masses its power, you will not survive."

"Ah, I may not, but there is one among us who will. The Last Freyan has been chosen." The creature hissed in displeasure, which quickly turned into laughter.

"Has this war taught you nothing? There is only one true God, Rothel! Your old Gods have forsaken you."

"We will see, Lord Leech, we will see." The general waved his hand at the messenger who had brought the word of the communication. "Turn the screen off." The Gorth on the other end of the telecommunication hissed and shuttered as the screen went black again.

"Commanders," the general said, "go to your stations." With that the council got up and made for the exit. The general beckoned Elder closer.

"Our situation is grim. Tandrigith will fall, and when it does the Gorth will exterminate all of us, but they will not find you. We have a few cryo pods ready, we plan to have you in one at the bottom of the sea when the Gorth descend upon us. The cryo pod is made of virstone, so you won't be subject to the acidity of the ocean."

"How will I get out?" Elder replied.

"There will be a distress beacon in the pod with you. When it is found, you will be rescued. The beacon will not activate for at least 100 years, so the Gorth will have no chance of finding you."

"When do I leave?" Elder said, uncertain.

"Now. I have four guards ready to escort you to the cryo pod. I would go myself but I have a leech to squash. Good luck, Elder." Elder rose and walked slowly to the door. Outside the building, a young Freyan wearing the typical soldier uniform of blue and green cloth was waiting for him.

"This way sir." Elder was led to a vehicle that held 3 more soldiers in it. One of them hopped out to give Elder the passenger seat. Driving to the storage house, Elder looked up into the sky. Explosions and huge dark shapes dominated the sky overhead. When they made it to the warehouse, Elder was directed to a large green pod.

"Step inside sir." As Elder did a chill came over his body. The last thing he remembered seeing was the face of some scientist peering in at him.


Working a probe was a dismal, boring job. One year they had been here, on this wretched planet and they had found what, ruins of an old civilization. A distress beacon had brought them here, and they hadn't even found the beacon itself! The archeologists should handle this ruin, not the workers. Yerol Karnam thought to himself. Beep beep beep. And that damn beacon! They hadn't found it yet, something about the atmosphere scrambling their radars. Whatever it was, it stopped them from finding the beacon, and the beacon kept on beeping. It was linked to the control room, to try and get a better understanding of where it was coming from. Unfortunately, that also meant the beeping kept on coming through. Beep beep beep. Yerol guided his probe through the murky water of the ocean. Beep beep beep. Was it just him, or was that beeping getting louder. "Only one on duty. I swear if I find something they'll all be sorry!" Yerol grumbled. Beep beep beep. Yes, that sound was definitely getting louder. Beep beep beep. The speaker screamed. Yerol's probe tapped the edge of something. Something... round. The probe hopped up onto the canister and peered inside. A blue creature lay peacefully, on top of it's chest was... a beacon. Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep.

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