Rewriting History

            My story does not start with me, but with my ancestors long before me. I do not know if my story is near its end or if it is simply beginning. One never truly knows what their story has in store for them, but what they do know is where their story begins.

            For ages, many thought that there was only life on Earth. Generation after generation they would send out technology – satellites, rovers and eventually artificial intelligence – to explore the surfaces of the various planets in the solar system. With each generation, technology became more advanced and eventually they were able to send people with new forms of technology to areas of the universe that humans from the beginning of space exploration had only dreamt about. It was not long after this time when the humans discovered they had been wrong about being the only intelligent life forces in the whole universe.

            They had never realized just how vast the galaxy was.

            They found life forms in galaxies and on planets. The humans called us “aliens”. To all of us, they were just that: “aliens.” Some that were sent out had only the intent to learn, but not all humans were not as full of compassion. There were many who had set their sight on colonization. Industrialization. Extortion. And just like the history of the Earth, the humans had attempted to colonize.

            Some succeeded in conquering territory.

            Others died trying.

            It was not long before war broke out amongst the races that occupied the galaxies. An arms race had begun not too long before – at least this is what all my history tomes have told me. The humans had learned from various planets how to design better space crafts, better weaponry. They had learned the strengths and weaknesses of the different species of us “aliens” before picking a fight.

            The war raged on for some time – though there are no primary records, ten years is what many of the governing officials support. Few know the exact details as to why an armistice was settled, but there are many who claim it was because a planet’s princess had fallen in love with a high ranking official of the human’s army and convinced him to end the war. Other’s whisper about conspiracies that humans were running out of fuel for their ships, that they were weakening their planet and exhausting its resources. There are others who believe that the human race was declining too quickly and to save their race from extinction, they pulled back.

            I am unsure what exactly I believe, for history is written by not only the winners of the fight, but also by those who make the laws. Long story short: the truth does not matter, only what those at the top wish others to believe.

            After the war was finished, an agreement was made to prevent further problems between species. Each of the surviving planets elected officials to jumpstart a sort of program, calling it the IWPL: Interplanetary War Prevention Legion. As the name suggests, this “program” was to act as a sort of militaristic governing system. Each member was expected to be as lethal and unforgiving as possible. Merciless. The idea was as a human named Theodore Roosevelt had once said: “Speak softly, carry big stick.” To clarify, for those who do not understand, the idea of the IWPL was to basically prevent “misbehavior”, otherwise a member of this group would be sent to “deal with you.” If you behaves, you do not get punished.

            However, like with many large governing bodies, the IWPL was not pure. Corruption eventually wormed its way into the hearts of the higher ranking officers. The select few that ran it eventually began to use their power to obtain better resources for their home planets. Better defenses. There were even those who would seek revenge for personal wrongdoings from the past, sending out their lower ranking officers to settle a grudge between themselves and another.

            It was not long before people began to live in fear of the very body that was meant to inspire peace and safety.

            The corruption of The Legion lead to a group of underlings leaving the ranks – going AWOL was a far better choice than requesting to be relieved of duty. At least, there was a higher chance of survival. I have heard a handful of stories from friends of Legion officers where friends, even family, had requested to be relieved of duty for various reasons – some were mentally insane, some had families to raise, others were simply too old, too broken, to keep being sent out – and were sentenced to death on the spot. The only way out was death, whether it was on the field or off.

            Many who attempted going AWOL were hunted down, but there were some that managed to get away with their lives.

            Those who escaped started their own underground function to protect the innocent people from being wrongfully destroyed. They called themselves The Alliance in hopes that many would accept them as a savior. Sadly, fear instilled by the IWPL ran too deep to be fixed easily.

            The damage would take several generations to heal.

            At first, The Legion hoped to take down The Alliance before it had rooted itself into the system. What The Legion did not expect was for members of The Alliance to fight back equally as hard as The Legion pushed, if not harder. The Alliance was equally trained in various military combats – they taught new members combat styles that ranged across all planets, making them deadlier than members of The Legion.

            What set the two groups apart? The IWPL fought to stay on top; The Alliance fought to survive and protect.

            Some decades after the creation of The Alliance, it seemed that the dust had settled. The Legion continued to fight underground battles with The Alliance, but more people were joining each group’s ranks. More were beginning to side with The Alliance, calling upon them for protection when they feared assassination by some force outside their control. Whether that force be The Legion or some underground third party. The Alliance would accept the contract and protect those who requested it.

            Eventually, as time went on, the original reason for the creation of The Alliance became but a rumor. As I said before, history is written by the men who make the laws, namely, the newly elected officials of the planets and the IWPL.

            The Alliance would forever be an enemy, and in that sense, were meant to be your enemy as well.

            Despite the creation of The Alliance, tragedy still befell innocent lives. You cannot save everyone; that is the way the world seems to work. The Eurphorians, known for their exquisite art and brilliant culture, were driven to their knees by extortion of their resources. No longer were they kindhearted creatures who made beautiful creations, they were rats who were forced to make strange weaponry for their governors. Those who belonged to a race called the Hysorians, known for their white-blonde hair and psychic abilities, were considered a large enough prize that a bounty was placed on each of their heads in the black market. They were hunted down like animals by bounty hunters and criminals seeking a paycheck. There are only a few known survivors – it is said that some of those remaining joined The Alliance. Even my people, the Aurorans, who preferred to remain a neutral planet amidst all the chaos, eventually took on a crazy policy to prevent the sort of corruption they witnessed with each generation.

            My race was generally a peaceful race. Though perhaps that portion of our history is now lost, I have found elders who can recall stories from their grandparents – even their great grandparents, as Aurorans have a longer life span than that of humans – about times of peace.

            Aurorans normally chose to be neutral in times of war. After participating in the war between the Earth and the other galaxies and witnessing what was becoming of the Hysorian race, my people came together and decided to become peaceful, in hopes our race would succumb to a better fate. The humans found us equally terrifying when we entered battle. The idea: no battle, no fear, and ultimately, no bounty.

            Each of us has a power deep within us – humans call it magic, we call to it as Allura. Allura is channeled through the body by concentrated movements and vocal evocation. In the earlier times of my people, a few simple movements could produce the desired affects; later generations, including my own, learned to produce more powerful elicitation of Allura by using song and heavier movements. The use of Allura produces a glow about our skin, as if the heavens had painted our bodies with the light of the stars in swirls and points. When used in battle, a war hymn would vibrate through the air; when used for recreation, it can be used to evaporate any anger or depression felt by those within range of our song.

            Allura has many uses. A small amount can be used to change appearances. A moderate amount can be used to heal simple wounds like burns, scrapes and cuts; a larger amount to heal more dire wounds like broken bones and lacerations.

            Each Auroran is born to an element. The mass majority of us are born to the element of earth. Plants and the dirt of the crust of our planet can be used to do any number of things from healing to building. Though there are significantly fewer of us, others are born to the element of fire and water. Those who are born to fire use their skills to control heat to craft metal pieces: weaponry, art, buildings. Those born to water make excellent healers above anything. Very few are born to the element of air; so few that their powers are practically unknown. I like to think that they make the best singers and performers, but I figure I am incorrect.

            In the beginning of the planet Aurora, it is said that each person was equal in their ability to us Allura. No one person was stronger than another. There are myths about a man, Seraph, who happened upon a stone that shone like diamond in the sunlight and burned like sapphire in the moonlight. Within this stone was a power that changed everything overnight. Come morning, Seraph found his black hair had turned a strange sapphire hue, his green eyes shimmering to the same color. The strength of Allura had also massively increased.

            What originally had three gates – or levels, so to speak – had now advanced as far as five.

            “I feel strange…” he had openly said, starring down at his hands. The markings of Allura flared in a strange new pattern that was foreign to him. It had felt as if liquid fire had been poured into his veins and was coursing throughout his body.

            Not wanting to cause panic, he hid the physical changes with a small amount of Allura. He later went on to take a wife and started a family. However, his secret was revealed when his first born child bore the same sapphire blue hair and eyes as he had the morning after finding the stone. There was a slight uproar about whether or not his wife had been faithful; to quash any rumors, he revealed his true hair and eye color. The stone was taken by a group of elders and hidden somewhere deep in the caves of Aurora, never to be found again.

            Seraph’s bloodline extended over a handful of generations without any issues until a pair of twins were born to his great granddaughter. The birth of twins was considered a miracle, and was thus celebrated. The children were raised just as any child would have been. When the two had celebrated their fourteenth birthday – the equivalent of seventeen years of a human.

            A new government system was being introduced in hopes to bring forth some kind of organization to their world before things became too hectic. An event was being held to choose who would be placed at the head of the government. The Aurorans had agreed that having the equivalent of a King or Queen would suffice – they would follow any who were deemed fit for the position. Gender and age were never an issue.

            The twins had decided they would try for the position. Both had grown up learning the history of their race and many other things and felt they both fit the position well. There was no issue with this decision; the two had agreed that they would be happy whether or not they won or lost.

            Half way through the event, one of the twin’s demeanor changed. Having never needed to compete for anything, rivalry had never occurred. Now that competition was present, the second born child no longer felt equal to his older brother, but his lesser counterpart. His brother knew more history stories than he did, had a better control of Allura, knew ancient chants and had a stronger voice. It was suddenly apparent which of them would be the loser.

            When the older twin had been accepted to the position as their King, the younger twin was seeing nothing but red and was severely unhappy with the results and called upon an ancient law of their people from the time of war.

            The law stated that if an Auroran felt wronged by another of their kind, they had the right to demand a trial of combat, and only those who were involved could enter the battlefield.

            The only way out was death.

            To spare the details, the twins were equally matched until one tapped into a reserve of power that was unheard of: the fourth and fifth gates of Allura only known to Seraph and his kin. This was the doing of the stone. Seraph’s true secret was revealed with the death of the weaker twin.

            Uproar ensued, resulting in a new law being implemented that stated whenever a set of twins was born to the ruling class they would be raised learning the history and politics of their planet and be trained in combat. When they reached the age of fourteen, they would be pitted against one another with the intent to be the last one standing..

            Whoever won would be deemed the legitimate heir to the throne.

            This is the law that my family has followed for generations. Seraph’s bloodline was passed along without issue, the power of the stone considered lost.

            As every story goes, I’m sure you can guess what happens next in this tale.

            I was born during the early spring on planet Aurora – what would have been late winter on Earth, as we had begun to import winter produce native to their planet. My brother was born twenty minutes later. My parents had been excited for the birth of their child and were surprised with twins. They had been eager to give their child a normal life, but with the birth of twins, the ancient law was to be upheld. To make matters worse, I had been born with sapphire blue hair and eyes.

            My brother was named Aryan, in hopes he would be a great warrior come the tournament. I was given the name Sirene, stemming from creatures called sirens, known for their beautiful voices and the gruesome tactics of murder. It was difficult to appreciate such a name growing up – being named after such a horrifying creature – but I guess I lived up to the name as I got older.

            My mother was bitter; she blamed not only her family for hiding the secret from her, but she placed a large portion of the blame on me for being born. She was expecting a bouncing baby boy and only that. Instead, she got my brother and me.

            My father, thankfully, loved both Aryan and me despite the ancient law’s ruling. And I will forever be thankful for his love.

            Aryan and I grew up enjoying one another’s company; we were friends for the longest time. We took history lessons together and learned about politics. We were trained to use Allura for combat and learned to design, create and produce weaponry, how to transform our bodies. When I had begun to excel in everything, I was praised by my professors and guardians. My brother slowly fell behind, and when word spread that he was the lesser twin, he began to harbor hatred. Our professors and guardians began to treat him as the lesser of our duo, making matters worse.

            My mother passed some odd months after my brother and I had celebrated our seventh year. Even to this day, I am unsure of the full story; I do know that she was put to death for treason against the crown. Some tell me she was caught bargaining with a third party to put a bounty on my father and me. Her last words: “That bitch deserves to be put to death.” That bitch being me.

            After this event, my father would often tell me he wished he had never married into the ruling family so my brother and I would never have to go through with the ancient law, and how he had wanted to give us a normal life. Perhaps it was because of the way my mother had treated me, but I could never help but feel the events were my own fault.

            My father regretted everything.

            If I had never been born, all these events could have been avoided.

            It became apparent to me that my father treasured me slightly more than my brother. I would assume it was because I was the spitting image of my mother – whom, despite everything, he had loved – but I would often worry it was because I was showing promise as becoming next in line to rule.

            I remember Aryan and me fighting very rarely; in fact there is only one instance I can recall where Aryan had lashed out against me physically. There are many more instances of seething remarks, anger and yelling: “I hate you!”

            “I hope you die!”

            The only phrase that managed to affect me was “You’re just like mother.”

            Physical fighting was not permitted off the battlefield. I feared they worried he would attempt to kill me before the appropriate time came; what I feared more was they would likely not stop me if I were to ever launch myself at him. And despite every venomous phrase my brother threw at me, I never acted on my anger.

            I saw no reason to.

            By the time we began our military training, I had grown accustomed to the rivalry between my brother and I, had grown accustomed to ignoring his sneers, his anger, his hatred. Men from The Legion were brought in to train us to be just like them.

            When our fourteenth year arrived, I grew wary of what lay ahead. The air was tense everywhere I traveled in preparation for the upcoming tournament. By now, my brother had become known as one of the most brutal of warriors, living up to his name. Many claimed I had grown into at least a portion of mine, telling me I was blossoming into a beautiful woman – these compliments held no appeal for me; I was entering a battlefield I did not wish to step foot on; beauty had no appeal here.

            In the end, it came down to where Aryan was one fatal blow away from death. I remember very little of what thoughts crossed my mind, but what stood out to me was how ridiculous this whole thing was. Fourteen years of my life, dedicated to learning to be a murderer.

            Simply because my brother was born.

            Aryan and I had never asked to be born, especially as twins, so why must we be punished? Why did only one of us deserve to live?

            I backed away from my brother. “Keep fighting.” The demand echoed across the battlefield.

            “I refuse.” I called back before explaining my theory. The people of Aurora agreed, and the decision was made. I had done what no other before me had.

            Mercy.

            And just like that, it had seemed that decision was my very undoing.

            Many considered my choice to allow my brother to live noble; other’s believed me insane. My brother, who I figured would be grateful his life was spared, felt the exact opposite. At the time of the decision, I was only considering his wellbeing. He was my brother, and I did not harbor the desire to have his blood on my hands. I did not, however, consider the consequences of my decision.

            Aryan suffered from darkness that was slowly consuming him. He was the underdog, the man who was spared; many told him he should be thankful I had granted him the courtesy of a second chance. It did nothing to ebb the hatred he felt.

            After two full years of ruling, there came a night where my father’s life was taken and an attempt was made on my own life. The night itself was a blur, but by some strange miracle, a fellow friend and guardian of mine had given his life in exchange for mine and I escaped from Aurora. My planet thought me dead.

            The first year was the hardest; finding work on a planet that you do not know as home is never easy. Surviving was harder. By the second year, things were set in place. Prostitution was easy for an exotic girl with blue eyes and hair. Men would pay top dollar to have me for a few hours…they never asked about the scars or tattoos that marred my body; they did not care.

            I feared that my brother would not be kind to Aurora and her people.

            But there was nothing I could do.

            After celebrating my eighteenth Auroran year I found myself in a strange situation: being recruited by The Alliance. They raided the prostitution ring searching for a princess; I fought alongside them; from there I was invited to join their ranks. I learned new languages, met different species including a Hysorian male about my age – Vic was his name, humans and a group of Meterans, known for their medicinal arts. For a short while, I kept my blue hair tied up, afraid to attract attention to myself and give away my true identity as the Auroran Queen. I had no reason to want to share it.

            My planet thought me dead; there was no point.

            Six years later, Aryan learned I survived and sent a small group of men from The Legion to take me out, once and for all.

            When the battle was over, there was no hiding what I was to The Alliance.

            Rather than casting me aside for hiding, they welcomed me deeper into their lives, understanding what I was trying to protect.

            I had a fight with Vic shortly after my social standing was revealed. “You’re a Queen.” He spat, venom on his tongue. “You lied! To us. To me. You act as if you’ve experienced the same harsh reality we all have and you grew up pampered.” The other members of the Alliance stood behind their Hysorian brother, watching me. Waiting.

            “Yes…” I whispered, “I may be a Queen, but do not assume it meant I was pampered.” I felt my teeth grinding together, a dull ache settling in my jaw, “I was trained, from the minute I could walk on my own, to be merciless, cold-blooded. A murderer. All because some piece of paper says I have to slaughter my own brother.”

            My eyes stung, tears lining them as memories of pain and anger flooded my system.

            “I didn’t ask to be born!” I screamed suddenly. “So don’t you dare judge my social standing when you haven’t a damn clue what it entails.” I felt a burning sensation tingle up my spine. Allura was spiking with my emotions.

            That day I tightened the chain on my emotions in fear of losing control.

            Vic and I began a relationship shortly after our little spat. His reasoning for being upset: he was falling for me and he felt like he had been duped. After spending a night with him and discussing my childhood. He made love to me; never had someone been so gentle, so kind.

            For the first time in what had felt like centuries: I cried.

            And someone kissed away the tears.

            When I had left Aurora, I did not feel anger or hatred for my brother. A part of me understood why he was angry and why he wanted me gone. I suspected had I been placed in the same position as he, I may have taken the same actions. However, returning to Aurora after many long years, I felt the first initial spark of anger towards Aryan.

            No more was there the resilient colors Aurora was known for – the pink and silver clouds were blackened from pollution, the green earth browned from lack of care, and the slate blue waters had turned green and clouded. When the craft landed, the initial feeling in the air drove me mad. The planet physically felt ill under my feet, the air foul and tense.

            This was wrong!                                                             

            For the first time I could remember, I had acted upon my anger and stormed the building in which I had once called home. I cannot recall how many soldiers I tore through with The Alliance rushing close behind me. The sound of splintering wood as I kicked open the doors still rings in my ears even now.

            “Aryan!” My lungs burned as I bellowed. I felt the air tense around me, the gasps escaping lips of those who thought me dead. If the small portion of my humanity had not still been in tact by the time I found my brother I probably would have pounced on him and tore his throat out right there, no matter the legal consequences.

            When Aryan disregarded my demand for a rematch, my fist went through the wall next to his head. “REMATCH.” I snarled. The guards who attempted to restrain me were tossed aside like they were weightless.

            I was sane enough to continue demanding a rematch.

            Finally, Aryan gave in and we took our places on the battlefield. Fists were bloodied, weapons were summoned and broken one by one as we came at one another with all we had with the intention of tearing the other apart. With a wild roar I released myself into the fourth gate, my whole body coming alive and glowing with the swirls of Allura. Aryan did the same, smiling wickedly, the excitement of battle taking over.

            There was only one way for me to finish on top: releasing the fifth gate.

            I will never forget the snapping and tearing of flesh and bone as my body transformed; large black and blue feathered wings stretched across the battle field. Slick, black armored pieces sliced through the skin of my arms and back and legs. Fingernails elongated into claws, teeth into sickening fangs.

            Now, as I stand opposite of my brother, the both of us battered and bloodied from fighting, I ask myself: am I truly ready to follow through with what I could not all those years ago? Despite everything he had done, Aryan was still my brother. It would be difficult – the hardest thing I will probably ever do – but I had to follow through, if not for myself, then for Aurora. She and her people had suffered enough.

            It is here, breathing heavy as I make my decision to follow through with what I had set in motion.

            The movement is too quick to be seen by normal eyes, but I know that Aryan saw it coming miles away. I will never forget the sound of armored claws ripping through his torso; nor will I forget the words he sweetly whispered to me with tears streaming down his face.

            “I’m sorry, sister…”

            I collapsed to my knees, allowing the five gates to close. It was here that I realized that my story was no ending. Oh no.

            It was only the beginning.