The Secret History of Water

The absence of daylight in the surrounding area betrayed the fact that it was actually noon. Darkness enshrouded the sun, blocking its rays from shining through.

A slowly advancing horde paused and hovered, awaiting their orders. But none came. The wind blew steadily from behind, pushing them onward, so they continued.

Although the crowd was as numerous as the sands on the seashore, without their commander leading them, they felt as if they were wandering aimlessly, unsure of where to go next.

Suddenly, a thunderous rumble filled the sky, echoed across the mountains on either side and shook each one of the assembled to their core; yet, not from fear. Instead, a wave of unspoken relief passed through them all. Commander Raham finally returned.

The commander’s encouragement always provided the drive needed to embolden the masses to carry on; to finally succeed in this perpetual rhythm of attack, regroup, attack again. Presently, Raham’s voice boomed overhead, loudly enough for the whole valley to hear. But only the ranks of Zerem understood what was being said.

“As you all know, this battle has long been fought between Zerem and Aphar. But this time, they have crossed the line. I’ve just come from the north side of the mountain. It’s painted white where countless numbers of helpless Zerem are being held as prisoners. When our last battalion descended on that area, they were captured, and now the Aphar refuse to release them. Unfortunately, we will not be getting any more reinforcements this time around. So, we must fall on our enemies swiftly, before we reach the opposite side. We will then make our way up and over to save those in need.”

Every other time the Zerem had descended on the enemy, they had been able to escape, and had almost always returned. It was one thing for a Zerem to willingly join the Aphar, or occasionally decide to stay on that side, but this was something entirely different. This was the first time Sahyir, or any of the other new arrivals, ever heard of anything like this. The Aphar refusing to release captured troops? They had never taken hostages before.

Sahyir could give no more thought to the matter, because Raham’s voice reverberated again with the order, “Troops! Prepare to fall on the enemy in all haste. The first flash lighting the sky will be your sign to attack. Make ready!”

Before any response could be uttered, a streak of lightning filled the sky from East to West. For a fleeting moment, everything was illuminated, allowing the Zerem to catch a brief glimpse of their target.

The oblivious Aphar had no idea they were about to be pummeled by a flood of Zerem. Without warning, the hiss of battle arose and everything in the area was quickly overrun in the maelstrom.

It wasn’t long before the Zerem reached the mountainside and found that the southern incline was too steep to proceed upward. The more they tried, the further down they slid.

Sahyir progressed higher than most, but slipped on a rock and rolled back down to the foot of the mountain, well beyond the mustering point where others were pooling together to plan their next ascent.

Every Zerem knew the best way to defeat the enemy was as a whole. Separation meant almost certain failure. But, having landed in a crevice between two large boulders, Sahyir was cut off from any means of rejoining the group.

A voice, not so much heard as felt, filled Sahyir’s consciousness. “I’m glad you’re here, Zerem. I’ve been waiting for one of your kind to come.”

Turning to locate the origin of the voice revealed a gaunt soldier, completely clad in green except for a blazing red helmet. The soldier was hunched over and pitifully malnourished—on the brink of death—yet, displayed surprisingly good spirits for being in such a state.

“If you’re planning to kill me, I warn you now, I will not go down without a fight,” Sahyir courageously announced.

“Kill you?” the soldier rebutted in astonishment. “Oh, you must be referring to my blades and shields. No, these are just part of the armor bestowed upon me. I only wield them as a sign of honor. I’m not your enemy, little one. My name is Perah. I’m trapped here, same as you.”

“But, you’re Aphar,” Sahyir stated, almost as a question. “Your kind is holding Zerem captive in a white prison on the other side of this mountain.”

“Yes, I am Aphar. But, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. We’re not imprisoning Zerem. They’re waiting of their own accord to be used at the proper time,” Perah replied.

“Yeah, you’ll use them in your defenses, so you can defeat us,” Sahyir accused.

“No, no. It’s not like that at all. I’m not sure you understand the way things work around here. There is a symbiotic relationship between our kingdoms. We each benefit the other for continued survival. You provide us with your strength for a time and, in turn, we replenish you. It has always been this way.”

“You replenish us?” Sahyir scoffed indignantly.

“You may not realize it, but Aphar eagerly anticipate your attacks. When you fall on us, we absorb your power. When you join us, we grow together. After Zerem are assimilated into the ranks of Aphar, both are refreshed and we send you back, better than ever. Zerem strengthen Aphar… Aphar create more Zerem. It’s an endless cycle of regeneration,” Perah informed.

“How do Zerem strengthen Aphar?”

“If you can bring yourself to trust me, I will show you.”

Perah reached down weakly to lift the reluctant, yet curious, Sahyir. An unseen, magical force resulting from their connection caused Sahyir to slowly dissolve into Perah.

The latter rose and stood tall, stretching two leafy green shields toward the now brightly-shining sun. The crowning helmet opened and spread into a wheel of beautiful, red petals, releasing a mist of tiny droplets that evaporated back into the air.

And the cycle continued as it always does...