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Zoe Thanatos(31)

By:Crystal Cierlak


“I should have kissed you.” His words were like a bucket of cold water in her face, bringing her out of the minefield of her thoughts. He smiled and shrugged as though it were the way of things, but deep down she could see his own brand of resentment for the situation. In that moment she realized she wasn’t alone in her thoughts, nor had she been at any point earlier in the day. He felt the same way. Just knowing it wasn’t one-sided calmed her and eased the anger.

“Then kiss me when you come back. Or, I’ll kiss you first,” she replied. This time her smile, though weak, was real.

“Until next time. Goodbye, Zoe.”

“Goodbye, Evander.”

Her eyes stayed fixed on where he had been standing but watched in her peripheral vision as he turned and walked away, the front door closing shut soon thereafter. He was gone. He hadn’t brought a car with him and she imagined he disappeared into the night as quickly as he first appeared in her life. Once more her house was quiet and empty, back to how it always had been after a brief interlude of happiness and a bit of life.

Zoe boxed up the remaining food, tossed the trash, washed the dishes in the sink and turned off the kitchen lights. She made her way back outside and sat on one of the new lounges, leaning back against the cushioned surface as her eyes drifted up towards the sky and the stars. It was a clear night, the moon full and bright amongst the stars. She tried to imagine that Evan belonged to one of them, that Terra was a real place like Earth that existed somewhere far, far away.

Her eyes closed and her mind drifted into sleep, replaying conversations, moments of excitement and the kiss that should have been. She realized she might not ever see Evan again, and that perhaps the missed kiss was a blessing in disguise. It was a sad but rational thought that sat with her like an unfamiliar friend as her body eventually welcomed the comforts of sleep and her mind quieted, free of thoughts of green eyes.





Part Two





Chapter 9: Terra



The trip home didn’t take more than a few minutes. They bypassed the Royal Transport Station and arrived at the private gate used exclusively by those who lived in the royal residence. Two Transport Engineers sat behind a glass wall interface while two Crown Soldiers opened the doors of the entryway leading to the Throne Room.

It took a moment for Evan’s senses to re-acclimate to the artificial atmosphere of Terra. The oxygen pumped through air vents in the ceiling lacked the subtleties of naturally occurring oxygen, such as on Earth. Recessed lights simulated sunlight at all hours of the day while glass walls projected three dimensional images of scenic views from other universes. It was a farce, a program generated projection to hide the true view of Terra which was nothing more than a gloomy wasteland. Two dozen residents milled about the room, going about their usual business as they arrived.

Evan eyed the corridor leading to the wing of the Throne Room and waited until Eva nodded.

“I’ll find the Queen and King. Go change. You know how they hate otherworld clothes.” She made off towards the adjacent corridor that housed the Straton’s palatial residences.

Two more soldiers were stationed at the entrance of their residence and opened the large doors for him as he approached. He bypassed the expansive living space and headed straight for to private residence. As he entered, the recessed lights brightened, illuminating his forgotten belongings; everything was exactly where he left it. The two weeks he spent on Earth seemed like a lifetime and his home felt more distant than ever.

He quickly stripped out of his shorts, polo shirt, and tennis shoes trading them for a white v-neck and ink blue bespoke slacks. It was a practical uniform, a utilitarian assimilation into a culture where dissonance was unwelcome.

The common room on the other side of the door erupted with the unmistakable sound of the King’s deep voice. Evan tossed the discarded clothes into a laundry receptacle and brushed his hands over the crease in the pants before opening the door.

King Owyn was tall with wide shoulders, often taking on a domineering posture. He wasn’t an unfriendly King, but his presence would often render a room silent, either out of reverence or wariness. Evan knew him to have a boyish charm and often friendly disposition, but never forgot it was the Queen’s spouse he was talking to.

“So the rumors are true, you have come back,” the King bellowed. He stepped toward Evan and slapped a large hand on his back, a gesture Evan assumed was meant to convey friendly affection.

“As my King requested.” Evan bowed his head to Owyn but he merely swatted the air with his hand. Though Evan acted as the King’s advisor in an official capacity and was considered a friend, he never disregarded the formalities of the monarchy.