Politics | Chapter Two

Ellam leaned the blood filled tin over the edge of the stone well, and poured the liquid down into the blackness. He then carefully lifted the pirate’s dead body to the lip of the well, taking great caution in not upsetting the pinched nerve in his lower back, then tossed the body in.

The well’s depth had always been unknown to both Ellam and Link, and had been there when they first decided to build the cabin on the land. So there was no need to wait around for the sound of the body reaching the bottom, because this was not their first disposal, and they had never heard a body hit the bottom on any previous dump.

Ellam then took the bin to the cabin’s rear porch and used the assortment of chemicals Link had laid out for him to clean out the tin. It was a good tin, and neither of them found any sense of destroying it or tossing it down the well. It would surely come in handy in the future.

With all of the evidence linking them to the dead pirate successfully disposed of, Ellam went back inside of the cabin and helped his wife prepare the table for dinner. Neither of them said a word. Ellam sliced thin pieces of red meat and washed, dried, and chopped a variety of colorful vegetables. Link picked out a decanter of fermented orange grapes from the pantry, then set the table for four. Ellam knew this act was a part of her grieving process and played along. He filled all four plates with equal portions of meat, steamed brown rice, and chopped vegetables. Each plate was also accompanied by a small soup dish filled with a delicious salty and herbaceous golden-green liquid, and a tiny cheese plate topped with three distinct cubes of stinky cheese.

With dinner served, they both sat down at opposite ends of the table and began eating. Link started with her glass of wine and soup. Ellam went straight for the cheese, dunking his final cube into the soup before popping it into his mouth.

“The elders will never approve your request for departure from Mistral. It has never been granted in our history,” Ellam said.

“I am well aware of the elder’s political stance on the issue. We are an ancient people, and they abide by the archaic rules put into place by our ancestors,” Link responded, as she finished the alcoholic liquid in her crystal glass, “But the great change has broken our tether to the old ways. Mistral is no longer what it used to be. We, along with all wildlife, are not what we used to be. Resources have become beyond scarce, and the moral values are shifting. I fear that the elders no longer desire an equal, self-governed government. The change has afflicted them, poisoning their sacred connection to Mistral’s telekinetic energy.”

“What is it they desire then? If not for the liberty to practice individuality in a society that classifies all inhabitants as equals? Which has been our way since the beginning of our existence here on Mistral.”

Link poured herself another glass of the fruity wine, delicately pairing it with her three cubes of funky cheese, before answering her husband’s barrage of questions, “Power.”

Ellam chuckled, and followed in his wife’s footsteps by also pouring himself a second glass of wine, “What power? All inhabitants of Mistral are born equal to the prior, next and to the last. We are children to our parents, yes, but we belong to the Gods of Mistral. For they are the ones who oversee and rule our planet. They are the ones who hold the power.”

“You are still blind to the truth, dear husband. The great change eradicated the Gods from our world. You haven’t been paying attention. Ever since the atmosphere evolved, the Gods have been absent. Telekinetic connection among villagers has decreased, yet it has somehow increased solely among the elders, lords and healers. The order of things has shifted and the Gods no longer govern life on Mistral. We have been thrown into a civilization of self-reliance, self-accountability and self-government. The ones who hold the strongest connection to Mistral’s energy will soon seek to grasp onto that slipping sword of power before we as a society fall into a dark age. They seek to create a new way of life. A new hierarchy ruled by mortality, instead of immortality. With death, comes greed. And once greed roots itself among the people, violence will certainly follow. It is for those reasons why I no longer require any permission from the elders to leave Mistral.”

“How are you so certain of such an outcome? You can’t truly believe that the Gods have left us?”

“They haven’t left us, Ellam. They were murdered. Our planet has been stricken by outside forces and it is dying. The deaths of our children, your son and daughter, were direct consequences of the attack and I must find out why.”

Ellam downed what little wine remained in his glass. He eyed his wife’s, whose glass was also empty, and proceeded to refill each of their glasses for a third and final time. He gently kissed her on her forehead, then dropped down to one knee, taking her hand into his.

“Then we should probably start packing what we need. Although, I’ve never traveled into space before, let alone traveled through the air, so I’m not exactly sure what our needs will be.”

“During my last meditation study with our pirate friend, I was able to tap into his core memory database. We’ll need only the essentials. Food and water, at least enough of each to last two weeks. Hopefully within that time, we will be able to discover who's responsible for the war in our system, and the murders of our children. With your newly discovered knowledge on space flight, and our combined telekinetic and physical combat skills, we should fare just fine against any adversary.”

Ellam never loved his wife as much as he did at that moment. Her resilience in times of loss, formidability during times of corruption, and a perpetual quest to never allow the heart to stray from individuality. She was also a fierce mother. Even in death, she continued to pursue an everlasting legacy of parenthood through acquiring the appropriate measure of justice.

She was everything to Ellam.

A rumble of drums and a familiar chant alerted the couple to the main blast door of the cabin. They each approached the front of the house and peered out of separate windows.

“It’s the elders,” Ellam said, perplexed, “But how did they know where to find the cabin? You and I are the only ones who know of its existence.”

“They must not find the ship,” Link said, firmly addressing the increasing pressure of the situation.

“Get my swords,” Ellam said, “I will distract them for as long as you need to get the ship powered up. Do you remember the procedure?”

Link nodded her understanding, while never taking her eyes off of the approaching crowd of elders, healers, and soldiers.

“Good,” Ellam continued, “Once you are prepared to lift off, send me a whisper. Once I’ve heard you, I’ll do what I do best.”

Link finally broke her stare from the cold glass and faced her husband, “Please be careful.”

“Always,” Ellam said, as he kissed his wife on the lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”