I Wept

I-I-I wept. I cried, like a childling. Never had I done that before, had shown such weakness in front of others. But I did. I wept bitter tears when my beloved Covenant sat fire to my race, expelled us, and sought our extinction. For so many decades have I followed the Prophets, and they do this to us. I remember when hearing the messages from my Fleet Commander and other Commanders. The Jiralhanae were attacking us everywhere. The Councilors were dead. We were left to fight Humanity alone. The despair that enveloped my heart. I could not fight it, it would have been like trying to stop the waves from coming onto the shore. To this very day… the memory is a difficult one to discuss.
I fell to my knees. I wept. No man said so much as a whisper. A whisper was not uttered, this I tell you and is true. Nothing. Just my tears. My men did not object to such weakness, for what had happened to us we could not fathom in a thousand generations, for not in our most villainous nightmares could our minds have conjured such an inferno. What we had built was stolen from us, and, such as our ignorance and pride were, we were cast out with naught to warn us.
It was as if the hottest blade was plunged into my chest. As if my own brother struck out at me with the sword. I felt light-headed. As if my feet were lifted off the ground by a powerful invisible force, and everything, even time itself, slowed. Fast, to slow. Gods… are there even any? I questioned much in those immediate days.
But the others needed strength. I had provided it before, I was the rock, I was unshaken, unstoppable. I led men into Hell and back out and we roared in victory. Yet now… now there was weakness. Tears.
Mik was especially shaken, but what happened to him and his psyche was far beyond my experience. I needed to be strong for him.
Basab and Tes were needing my strength. Basab, our elite Unggoy, was shaken to his core, and he struggled to keep together the other Unggoy’s spirits up. Tes, Kig-Yar she always was, sought an advance on her pay from the appropriate Ministry. But to her… I could see it within her bleeding heart. This Schism wounded her, like all others, left a deep gash in her soul.
The other Sangheili, Unggoy, Kig-Yar, and single pair of Lekgolo, were all now aware that a Schism had erupted in our glorious Covenant.
I had to quickly regain strength from my sudden outburst. Nothing was uttered. Our mission soon became an honorable end. Here, at this bastion of Human unity, would we shed our Sangheili, Unggoy, Kig-Yar, and Lekgolo blood here, and they will know us, they will feel us, and they will fear us forevermore.
I stirred strength within myself once more, and let it out to my fellows. We would be strong in the face of the end. We would sing our songs of battle and take as many of them with us as we could. We wished that. We desired that. We shall let nobody in the way.
I would let the many worlds hear our names. And my name. Kai ‘Kalar. That is my name. It will be remembered. That is what I thought when this battle was upon us, after rising from the weeping. There would be no more weakness. No more.
Or so it seemed. Then the Arbiter appeared, like an angel of deliverance. We were to cease hostile action against Humanity. Enemies into allies. Quite ironic.
Not a soul uttered the weeping. Not a single one. The secret was ours and ours alone. But perhaps with my weeping, those present might have a greater appreciation of showing one’s true self to others. Perhaps that is honesty. And the pursuit of truth is an honorable one.
At all times, my mind is nagged at by shadowy thoughts. My heart at times grows weary. But… I also think that… ultimately, there is a greater good that will come to those deserving. I am unsure if I was one deserving or undeserving. With the shaking of our Covenant and its fall to dust… there is ambiguity. Where can I draw strength from, if not the Covenant? Friends perhaps. Or family. Perhaps.
I have not wept since that day. I shan’t allow myself to partake in it any further.
Category:The Weekly