The Old World

9

"The first city I had seen for eight thousand years was in its own way splendorous. Not with massive buildings of steel upon some mechanical earth, instead, it was a small one of sand and stone. Sticks and clay held the buildings in place, and the people who lived here showed a certain hospitality that was their own. To them, we were dirty slaves and treated as such.

"You could say that I was drug through the mud in that ancient city. I was sneered at while the inhabitants of this sand city threw rocks, vegetables, and other handheld items at me and the captives. I was a prisoner, fallen to barbarians no further in line from chimpanzees. They hated me and my people. I could tell there was some deep rivalry between each other. I could see a history of conflict, and somehow, these ones have built their city, while my people were left alone in paradise.

"I hated these people just as well. They had made a hell of the wondrous paradise the village was, and now they treated me and the others with disrespect. I felt that I should be pampered. Perhaps I was not thinking straight, I had seen the people I came to love murdered. It blinded me from the scientific view that any man such as myself should follow.

"For days I was locked in a cage. Forced to share heads of cabbage with the other prisoners as our only sustenance. The worst part of it all wasn't the fact that I had been beaten. Instead, it was the terrible claustrophobia I suffered as I crammed together with dirty men and women.

"When I had finally spoken out and demanded an audience, one of the warriors watching us, a younger man, seemed fascinated by my accent and language. I shouted in the Outer System Toungue of the solar system, demeaning that whoever ran this town speak with me.

"Of course, they had no idea what I was saying. But the fact that I spoke the way I did, and that I was so brazen and paid little attention to the fact I was in prison took them by surprise.

"It's not that I didn't have anything else to live for. I just saw my mission and realized that it was not over. It was what I was trained to do.

"I met that night with the chief of Calpa. This sand city was named so after a legendary hunter slew a bull and built the city upon its remains. I wondered what this city was called in my time. I wondered where I was if it were truly Mexico.

"The Chief seemed more respectful and honorable than the rest, which actually surprised me. He was talented, but yet still young. I would assume any chief of some neolithic site to be merely a barbarian but I could tell the man had spoken to many people throughout his life and knew much.

"Luckily, he spoke the Nepham language, and we conversed. He was interested, although not startled by my bright skin. I assumed he had seen bright-skinned people before judging by his relaxed interest in it.
"In the gentlest terms and with due respect, he explained in detail how I was going to be a slave. There were two ways one could escape such a fate, possibly three.

"One. Join the arena. Become a gladiator. Borrowing from Rome no doubt, I thought. Perhaps they had some knowledge of this deep in their history? It correlated so a safe assumption.

"Two. Gain my trust. The chief said with simple phrasing that if I offered him something of interest he would free me.

"And possibly three. Sacrifice yourself to the bull god. Not happening.

"My supplies and weapons had been stolen, but that didn't stop me from offering him my blade. He ordered it confiscated from the warrior who had stolen it from me. He was pleased. He freed me three days later.

"Of course, I had nowhere to go. I was not going to make it back to the coast with no supplies, and I promised I would not leave the Nepham where they stood, trapped in cages. I roamed the streets, day and night, wondering. Looking to the stars. It was very lonely. I could not speak my thoughts to anyone because no one knew any of the languages I did. The people of Calpa spoke a language that was similar but unique from Nepham. Again, it sounded like nothing from the old world, however.

"The chief and the warriors knew I would not leave the others, and they knew I would try to free them. They kept a close eye on me and refused to let me speak with any of the prisoners, including Brownhair.

"It was not long before the chief called me to the temple of the Sun god. Rumors began spreading throughout the city quickly that I was a spirit sent from the sky. An angel maybe. The same thing on repeat.

"The priests and the elders of the city were much less wise than the Nepham. Yet they had ways of civilization. They did not speak in riddles and talk about concepts such as mysticism or spirits, or magic and the unknown. Instead, they spoke of facts and science. Math. The sky, the stars.

"I realized that perhaps there might be some remote cult that keeps the knowledge of the old world. Handing the forbidden history of the old world down through generations. I took my chance and asked if they understood any of it. If they knew there existed a civilization of gods before them.

"They explained that of course there was an age before man, and everything they said seemed in a sense, a mythologized version of real history. They spoke of a time were men ruled as gods alongside them. Where this utopia was destroyed by fate, or demons, or whatever it is. Perhaps I was getting somewhere now. The elders and priests carried this knowledge down. Although, of course, it has been heavily distorted. Only I knew the truth.

"They asked me questions. Simple ones like where the sun goes after day. What the stars are. I explained and they nodded in agreement. They already knew, at least to some extent. They did not know what stars were, they explained to me that the stars are minor gods. Angels.

"Apparently, every once and awhile, white-skinned people like me would migrate south to these lands. They were seen as barbarians and unlearned. Backward, if you will. They tested me. They realized I was not of those tribes.

"The chief began liking me. I demanded he release my people, but he rejected me. He explained that the warriors were too frustrated that he let me go. Letting the others go would start a battle against his own warriors. I didn't let this stop me. I spoke with Brownhair one night.

"'I will get you and the others out of here. I promise. I will save you all. We can start over.'

"I hoped she understood. She should have. But she and the others did not say a single word. They nodded and looked at me with hopeful eyes. There were only twelve of us now. Twelve of the Nepham were left on this planet. Twelve including me.