An Unending Vigil

Hetaeres stared out numbly at the wasteland in front of him, an expanse of ash covered hills, snow and scattered trees. The ash and soot that had been falling from the atmosphere had finally settled down, allowing Hetaeres to see further than he usually could.

Not that it was much of a sight to see. This once beautiful planet was now a wasteland. The thought caused a cold anger to rise in Hetaeres. He had been on this planet for 1500 years. Enough time to see humanity rise out of the dark age, struggle through its growing pains in the renaissance era and become a technological wonder. While humanity was on a different, and not as advanced, route in their scientific achievements than that of his homeworld, it was still incredible to think what they could have achieved.

“What could have been,” he snorted angrily and turned to begin his walk home. His large feet carried him easily through the rocky, snowy terrain. A red, hooded cloak covered hair that was as dark blue as a dying star. His gold and bright blue eyes peered attentively around him. Being raised as an elite warrior to a fallen celestial empire had made scanning his surroundings a habit. But he felt no need for it anymore. He had no will to live anymore, and his genetic programming forbid him from ending his own life.

He knew that last thought all too well; even entertaining the thought caused intense neural feedback within him, making his god like body seize up until the thought left his mind. The irony of this being that he was the only thing that could cause himself harm. It would take a human army to destroy him, and instead, human armies had destroyed themselves.

The governments, the social structure, all of it went up the day that humanity launched the missiles. 50 years after the fact, and Hetaeres still wasn’t sure who had launched first, in fact, he didn’t even care.

His perfect vision caused him to snap out of his reverie. Up ahead were two pairs of footprints, leading right to the entrance of his home. Home being a cave in the side of a mountain, but home was home.

“Curious,” he mused. He hadn’t seen a soul in months, but then again, he didn’t get out much. His powerful legs carried him up the slope, following the footprints like a tiger on the prowl. He could hear voices as he neared the entrance to his cave.

“Hannah. Hannah. Hannah!” a young male’s voice whispered fearfully.

“What?” Hannah, he presumed, shot back. He could hear rummaging happening, which made him sigh. I suppose I should have been more careful if I didn’t want people going through my things.

“This place is strange, I don’t like it. And I don’t see any weapons here that we could use. I mean this isn’t going to help us.” The boy stated, pointing towards an old Viking broadsword that had been given to Hetaeres shortly after his arrival on this planet.

Hetaeres had been slowly making his way in at this point, fluidly treading forward without making a sound. He could see them both, a young man and a young woman, either in their late teens or early twenties (humans all look so similar when one is well over a 1,000 years old). They were digging through his belongings, casting aside 1,500 years of memories and keepsakes aside like they were trash.

Hetaeres was now standing behind them both, his seven foot tall frame looming like an ancient statue.

“I agree, it is strange,” Hetaeres said softly, but even then, his voice echoed throughout the cave. The fire burning near the children flickered as they both jumped, scrambling for cover. Hetaeres continued speaking as if he hadn’t even noticed their reaction. “Not as strange as seeing two children ransacking your belongings, but then again, I remember the time before the bombs. This must be the norm for you two.”

The girl, Hannah, was twirling a sling, a sling, of all things. Her brow was furrowed in determined concentration. Her gaze met Hetaeres’s, and he could tell she was sizing him up. As her eyes scanned his massive frame, an expression of shock manifested, then shifted quickly to pure rage.

With a scream, she loosed a stone from her sling with impressive accuracy and leaped at Hetaeres.

Shocked as he was, his superior reflexes and strength still took over. In one motion he effortlessly dodged the projectile and shot his hand out, catching the girl by her throat.

“I’m impressed by your audacity, child,” he growled. “I don’t know what provoked this attack, but just know I could end both of your lives quicker than you can blink. My patience with your kind has been long gone, do not provoke me further.”

The girl was shrieking and clawing at Hetaeres, and the boy wasn’t helping, screaming her name and “let her go!” Hetaeres still did not move, holding her in an iron-strong grip.

“HE HAS IT ROBERT! IT’S ON HIS NECK!” She howled, clawing and hammer fisting his arm.

Hetaeres was confused. On my neck? The only thing on my neck is…

His free hand shot up and grasped the only thing that mattered to him, a heart-shaped locket that carried something extremely precious. Anger took over, and he began to squeeze her neck. She gurgled in pain.

“Give it to her you fucking monster, why would you want a picture of her Mother?” The boy, Robert, shouted as he charged Hetaeres, holding the broadsword awkwardly.

Her mother?

Faster than humanly possible, he dropped Hannah and drew his own blade, which crackled with glowing blue energy and deflected the broadsword. The force of his block sent the broadsword flying across the cave, causing it to crash against the cave wall.

“WHAT DO YOU SEEK?” Hetaeres bellowed. The two humans cowered and shielded their ears from the overwhelming sound.

“My, mother. She’s gone. She’s been gone.” Hannah sobbed and pointed at his locket. “The locket is the only thing I have left of her.”

For the first time in 100 years, Hetaeres felt something besides anger or sadness. Empathy touched his immortal heart. He gently put his blade away and spoke.

“Child, I am sorry for your loss. But this is not your Mother’s. This…is mine. It was my wife’s.”

He crouched down next to them and opened it, displaying the faded photograph inside of a beautiful, smiling woman.

“We met when I saved your planet, almost 200 years ago. I have been here for 1,500 years. I am the last of my kind, and I had wandered your planet for centuries, trying to find my place, my purpose. When the force came that destroyed my world, she was by my side when I was able to stop it from destroying yours.”

Robert’s expression had shifted to an awed realization.

“You-you’re Hetaeres! The Demigod! We’ve heard stories of you from the before-time!”

“Yes, the stories. I was the savior of your planet from the darkness of the universe, but I could not save you from yourselves.” The anger was creeping back in. Everything he had been through for these people, had been for nothing in the end.

No! He thought suddenly. He didn’t want to be angry anymore. He had felt something…different. Something he had been missing. Something that he wanted.

“Bring me to where your locket is,” Hetaeres whispered with a cold determination.

The three of them stood on a road of crumbled asphalt. Well, Hetaeres did, the other two hid behind the remains of a fallen billboard. In front of them was a large, ramshackle “fortress” made of broken-down vehicles, shipping containers, and other garbage.

Hannah and Robert had told Hetaeres their story on the four-hour walk. How they had been slaves to the raiders in this camp, living under the cruel iron-fisted law of the “Warlord of New Denver”, Shane McGraw. Hannah had told him adamantly that McGraw kept the locket on his own neck, to flaunt it as a sign of power over the children.

“So there’s no chance he will talk?” He asked them.

Robert spat. “Nope. That fucking asshole is as crazy as they come.”

“Well, that settles it. Stay here until I come out for you. Use those weapons if you have to, but stay hidden!” He pointed at the sword from the cave, plus an axe and an older style AR-15 from his collection.

He pushed his red cloak back, revealing brilliant armor of gold, white and red, and slid a helmet in the visage of a fierce bird of prey that was not native to this planet. He hefted a large spear, made of the same otherworldly material of his armor.

The demigod was going to war once again.

Excitement rushed through his veins as he charged forward at a blistering pace. He could hear concerned shouting from the ramparts, and shortly after bullets started peppering the ground near him as they tried to engage him.

He was too fast for them and too strong for their defenses. He leaped up and forward and kicked at the gates, sending them flying open. His instincts were buzzing now, and he activated the force shield on his gauntlet just as the rapid staccato of a crew-served machine gun echoed throughout the air.

The rounds slammed into his shield and ricocheted off harmlessly. He advanced forward, churning up dust and soot as he did so. He jumped once again, landing behind the machine gun. His spear lashed out, faster than the human eye could track sending fountains of blood out from the unfortunate defenders.

He did not stop there. Advanced targeting computers in his helm displayed the locations of all the raiders as they scrambled to stop his assault. He smiled at that. He was beginning to feel a purpose once more.

Like a massive, mechanized tiger, he hunted. He killed them in droves, his spear and power sword drinking in the blood that they hadn’t touched in decades. The rounds that pinged off of his armor and force shield became less and less.

Finally, he made his way to the center of the complex. A few more unfortunate souls were within the maze of sheetmetal and wood. These ones were outfitted better than the ones outside. Bodyguards, obviously.

They were dead in less than a second.

His spear slammed through the barricaded doors in front of him, and his divine muscles tore through the reinforced barrier like it was paper.

An explosion rang out through the large room as he entered, accompanying the slamming of a shotgun slug to his breastplate. Hetaeres never slowed his advance, what he came for was right in front of him.

A large, older human, dressed in a mix of tactical gear, robes, and biker leather slam fired the shotgun in rapid succession. He screamed as a slug ricocheted off of Hetaeres’s armor, landing in his thigh.

Hetaeres could see the locket on the man’s neck. He stepped forward and crouched down next to the self-proclaimed warlord. His fingers wrapped around the locket and he snapped the chain off of the man’s neck.

“Shane McGraw. Your reign ends here.”

Hetaeres brutally ended Shane McGraw with a vicious stomp to his head.

Everything was quiet now, and Hetaeres gazed at the heart shaped locket in his hand. He had easily killed over 200 men. He could rule the remains of this planet easily.

He shook the thought from his head though. He, the last son of a murdered star-god, was never meant to rule. He was designed to serve, to protect.

He smiled at that thought. He looked at the picture of Hannah’s mother in the locket. He now had someone to serve and protect once again.

His vigil began anew.