02: INTRO

THE LAST SONG

 

 

Eve's hand felt familiar but uncommonly warm in his. He knew this was just his imagination; it had not been warm for years. It had been soft, firm, or strong; now, it was none of those things; it was brittle and frail. He could trace every bone, every tendon, every sinuous fibre in her hand. It was a bittersweet reminder of what they lost, a reminder of a world that had slipped away so long ago.

Reaching down to her head on his lap, he stroked her hair. He did not look at her but out over the waveless sea. Focusing on a distant point, he pledged to remember it all. Tonight, and perhaps tomorrow, he owed it not only to himself but to Eve. Leaning forward, lowering his head to hers, he kissed her forehead and heard a sigh.

Eve had not always been by his side, but she had been for the crucial parts of his life. They had lived together in love for generations. Using an assortment of titles, influence, skills, and wealth to move from place to place or country to country, they changed but remained the same. They called it the “Paradox of the Moon.” The Moon is constantly changing, but it always remains the same.

Standing by his side, she had been there for so much of his long memory. Being his companion, lover, confidant, foil, and co-conspirator. 

He longed to remember, but that would be a saga of sadness. Back through the point that marked the start of the descent of man. Back when every corner of every land on the Earth teemed with people, buzzed with activity, and moved, thrived, and writhed with vigour and lust. All those people, everywhere, living in the moment, both his people and the others, whom his people called the “Standards.” All living and looking at the "now," not wondering and certainly not worrying about tomorrow.

Through all that, mankind moved forward and then, along the way, the pendulum began to swing back. Then, time itself began to lose meaning, and there was no purpose for anyone to measure the days or years. Tens of thousands of days may have passed, or one hundred thousand, maybe more. One stark red sunrise in a fractured sky over a shattered landscape looked like the thousands before and all the ones to follow.

Raising his head, he looked at the silent sea. Large floating mats of some types of dried, blood-red-coloured growth covered it. This endless dull flatness had its hue broken only by spots of an inky black, the blackness of death. Even the algae mats that had killed all life in the sea now succumbed to death. 

Everything was lost. The Earth was littered with hundreds of thousands of timeless monuments to long-dead kings, commoners, geniuses, and fools,  

It had been said, “All men fear time, but time only fears the Pyramids.” Yet, time would always win.

 As civilization faltered, everyone presumed that perhaps, through the miracles of science, the world would again flourish. But with the lingering effects of war, the poisons of the industrial age, and nature rebelling against itself, the animal kingdom passed into oblivion—all the birds of the sky, the fishes of the waters, and all the creatures that walked or crawled upon the Earth were lost.

Eons ago, with trillions of simple one-celled organisms in the sea, a few random mutations thrived in the proto-ocean, and evolution began. The evolution of all life, the progress and existence of that life, depended on food.

To the Devi, that was the name they called themselves. Life could be forever but forever meant only as long as there was food. Without food, all bodies grow tired, sore, old, and die.

He felt his hands, which were cold and grey, dried, and covered in sores that did not heal. These sores did not bleed or hurt. He lacked the energy to bleed and the desire to feel.

As he stroked Eve's hair and dreamed of its softness, she stirred slightly and whispered, "Jonathan."

"Yes, my love, I am here with you as I had promised you that I would be—forever and forever."

" I love you," she hoarsely cracked out through her dried and parched lips.

" I love you too." He said as he closed his eyes and kissed her forehead again.

As the sun dropped below the horizon, he was still lost in his thoughts, and long-dormant memories began forming in his mind. Bits and pieces of fleeting glimpses of different times, people long lost, and memories almost forgotten toyed with him. Each flash taunted and dared him to dream and remember more. His mind called out to him, “Come on, St Croix. You can do better.”

His kind were empathic, and they could sense the intent of others, but only the stronger emotions: fear, rage, love, lust, and death. Those feelings fed the Devi, and all the sources had died with the world. Yet death remained, and that was torture.

Rather than a single thought of the past, his mind was now clouded and confused, perhaps by some great still-living spiritual mass of human consciousness, like a summation of the total of man's collective memory.

 In this silent moment, were all of mankind's memories, actions, and recollections somehow screaming at him, filling his mind with the full scope of human experience, not wanting to be forgotten? Was his character's innate ability somehow channelling the essence of everyone who had ever been, and was he hearing them desperately cry out in unison, "REMEMBER US!"

Cradling her head, he thought of a creation myth by a people who, in their ignorance, had shaped much of the world's concepts and misconceptions of his people and others. Creating Succubus and Incubus—suckers of souls and life, defilers of God’s greatest gift.

But now, in a cruel and karmic twist of fate, only he and Eve seemed to remain. Eve was said to be the first woman, and now her namesake may well be the last

As each night passed, it was almost as if each one had become more brilliant. In the deep dark of the sky, the innumerable stars seemed to shine brighter than the moon. Dawn then arrived, with a singular peach-pink cloud in the east. The sun rose, lighting the world or what was left as a stark reminder of the past.

To his right was an endless plain of blackened earth, scorched and turned to glass, fragmented by time. In the rising sun's light, it glistened like the thousands of stars that had filled the sky shortly before.

To his left, massive mounds of rubble broke the dark plain, lacking the sharp edges of fracture and collapse. Long ago, vines and lichens reclaimed the cities and covered all the works of man. With time, nature retook what it had lost, and with time, nature, too, had fallen.

Looking out across the water, he was caught off guard by a flicker, a glint, a moment of the sun rays touching the top of a far-off wave. That spark seemed to light a riveting but short-lived cascade of hope, as he knew none existed.

The light woke Eve, who was still lying motionless. She squeezed his hand and whispered. He leaned forward and placed an ear near her mouth. “Stories, tell me stories of your times and of all time. Of how we met and the time before and after. I need to hear of our love.”

Slowly, in his mind's eye, he created an image of Eve's face from when they first met.

It was young, without pain, longing, and the sorrows and burden of living forever. It was a time long lost when she was still a soft, beautiful, short-lived human. It was before they were lovers and before he pledged himself to her for all time and shared the dual gift of the blessing and curse of immortality with her.

He lay her down, placing his jacket under her head, and lay beside her.

“It was a spring morning, and waters had begun to warm, yet a chilled wind from the north blew into the city. Fog filled the streets, and the sky was grey…”