The Empress Can’t Communicate: Chapter 2

Picking Up The Pieces

Leaning against the window near his bed, Eon sat atop the rough sheets as he stared unseeing to the world outside. Three Millennia, that was how long he had spent as sleep after the gods toyed with his soul and pulled him in their twisted plans. Three Millennia of his life gone just like that merely from their whim alone. Did his life mean nothing to them?

Then again, why should they care? It was he who walked into their domain after all. It was with his own two hands that he tore through the wall separating the gods from the mortal plane and with his own free will that he begged them to do something.

They did something alright, but it cost him everything. His plans now meant nothing. His preparations might as well be a dust in the wind as the Warp Storms cut him off from the wilder galaxy. And Iyanna, his sweet Iyanna? Would she even remember him after all those years he went missing? He now had nothing.

He should be angry right now, raging at the gods, yet he felt nothing. His heart beat only to keep him bound to this world, uncaring of his plight. With his soul and will broken, he felt nothing but the emptiness that now lay inside his heart, something that not even the warmth of the morning sun could ease him from the gnawing cold that crept into his very soul.

Pulling away from the window, he laid down on the bed, his heart unfeeling as the growing hole inside his soul grew. He had nothing saved for the clothes on his back and the Empress's pity on his poor soul. Feeling the hollow smile stretched across his parched lips, he chuckled.

That was the only reason why he was even alive right now; Her pity. She took pity on him, giving him room under her roof in the town she called her own. As he reached up and felt the blackstone collar wrapped around his neck, he wondered if it was more than just pity.

"She's only keeping you alive to keep you away from the enemy," The voices in his head whispered as he curled up, his hands desperately pressing against his ears. If he died, his soul was forfeit. Out there, in the depths of the warp and perhaps even in the hidden corners of his mind, she lay waiting.

He can't die, not if he wanted to throw the galaxy into the fires of hell, but what purpose did he have in living. Eyes wandering on the knife left atop the table by his bedside, he felt his breathing grow shallow. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers having long since grown numb as he gripped the haft tightly.

He made this knife when he was trying to escape. Made from the very essence of the warp, this finely crafted knife was like all the other knives he made. Sharp, perfectly balanced, yet it had no use to him right now. He was safe, hidden away in some corner of Terra. What use did he have of it?

Hands gripping it tightly, he gritted his teeth, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes as he got up. Raising it high, he clenched his eyes shut before he let out a scream of frustration as he threw it as far away as he could. "I can't do this anymore," He cried as he pulled his knees close to his chest, his heart aching even as tears refused to fall down his cheeks.

He just wanted this nightmare to end, to wake up in his loved ones hands as they whispered to him that everything was ok, but he can't; Not anymore. This was now his life, his reality, and he had to pick up the pieces of his tattered soul.

"It's just not fair…" He whispered, choking back the sobs as for the first time in so many years, he didn't know what he was going to do. Was there even anything he could do?

As his mind wondered, pulled deeper into the abyss, a voice would snap him from his stupor. "H-hey," A young voice called out, "Umm… I know you haven't touched the food I gave you and I have to keep feeding it to the livestock, but I brought you fresh breakfast?"

Eyes shifting, he stared at the young boy who had kept him company from time to time. With his scraggly cut hair, sunburnt face, missing tooth and the bandage over his right eye, he looked like he had been through alot despite his youth. Still, the boy had this annoying smile on his face, something which made him angry.

"No, he's just a kid," He whispered to himself as he looked away, pulling his bony legs against his chest, "Just ignore him like you do." He shouldn't be angry at the boy. He's merely an innocent who was trying to take care of him.

Lifting up his tray, he beamed, "It's made from fresh produce which I picked from the greenhouse!" Carrying a bowl of what looked like soup and a cup of water over to his bedside, he swapped out the stale bread he brought over yesterday as he regaled him of the tales of the Empress.

"She's really nice you know, helping us build this glasshouse to grow food," He chattered, eyes drifting over to the knife embedded on the wall, "Can you believe it? Fresh food out here in Tolia!" Glancing back at him, he grinned, "Bet you haven't seen anything like this before?"

As he glanced at the red soup, his nose crinkled. Unlike the soup from before which was nothing more than thin gruel, this was something else. The strong acrid scent blasted him head on, making his mouth water and his stomach grumble, something the boy caught on.

Grinning from ear to ear, the boy teased, "You're hungry, aren't you?" Maybe it was that cock sure grin the boy sported or his own soured mood, but there was something about that smile that made the boy utterly insufferable.

Turning away, he huddled against the wall. "I'm not hungry," He muttered, lying through his teeth even as his body betrayed him, "And yes, I have eaten fresh food before." With his mind drifting off to a far off place he might never visit again, he whispered, "My family has a farm off somewhere in the stars…"

He simply wanted solace right now, but his words had unintended consequences as he found the boy gawking at him. "Y-you can speak?!" The snot nosed brat yelled in wide eyed surprise.

"Of course I could speak," He snapped back, "Now go away." He didn't have time to entertain the brat. He already gave him what the Empress probably told him to give him so he could go. There was no need for him to bother him any longer.

The youth, however, only got emboldened as he slammed his tiny palms at the edge of his lump bed. "Well, why haven't you said a word then!?" He screeched, pointing at him accusing with righteous indignation. "Do you know how embarrassing it is that I kept complaining to you about this girl who kept teasing me!" He added, "I've been talking to you for a month now!"

Has it already been that long? How long had it been since he last ate or drank water? Licking his chapped lips, he shifted as he forced a smile on his face as he asked, "Were you?" He honestly hasn't paid much attention after… everything. Still, he could make use of this. "Thanks for reminding me." Perhaps if he annoyed him enough, he'd leave on his own.

Pouting, the boy crossed his arms across his chest as he mumbled, "I liked it better when you weren't talking…"

Snorting, he turned away and laid down. Maybe now he'd leave him alone, but his hopes were in vain. Feeling the boy's stare at the back of his neck, he turned, finding him now sitting on a chair. Leaning on the edge of his chair with both hands, he narrowed his eyes as he just stared at him. "Why are you staring at me like that?" He asked as he shifted uncomfortably.

"It's just…" The boy replied as he tilted his head, "I've never seen a Monster up close before." Well, that was certainly a new one. "I've heard bad things from the older folks, but you don't look that scary," The boy noted as his gaze lightened to one of pity, "Just sad and angry."

"Monster?" He scoffed, more amused than anything, "Is that what you see in me?" Was this how other races now see his people, as nothing more than a bunch of hedonistic monsters? Truly, his people have fallen so lowly.

"Well, you look like a monster being all tall and pointy eared," He gestured as he tugged at his own ears. "But maybe a nice monster?" He cautioned before frowning, "Are those even a thing though"

Sitting up once more, he asked,"What if I'm not a nice monster. What if I'm just doing all of this to get you to lower your guard?" As he stared right at the boy's eyes, the boy smiled.

"Are you?" He asked, making him falter as he glanced away.

"No, not really." Holding himself, he begged the boy, "If you were looking forward to seeing me eat, just… just take it." He just couldn't bring himself to eat anymore. What was even the point? "I'm not hungry…"

"You're better off having it than me," He whispered, "At least it won't go to waste…" He already felt terrible enough knowing he had wasted yesterday's meal because he waddled in his own misery. At least if the boy ate this one, he could grow stronger.

Rocking on his chair, the boy mumbled, "Monsters sure are weird."

"From my point of view, you're the weird one," He snapped back yet his tone lacked the heat it once had. He was just tired now. He wanted to lay down again and forget about today.

Still, the boy kept pestering him. "Are you sure you're not hungry?" He asked insistently, "I could just leave it by your bedside like usual. Maybe you'd get hungry later?" Pushing the dish closer, he added, "It's not like it would go to waste. All leftovers goes to the livestock."

Gazing tiredly at the kid, he muttered, "Kid, has anyone told you that you're annoying?" Where was this kid getting all his energy? Was he eating his suffering?

Seeing that smile stretching across his lip, he found his answer. "More times that I could count!" The boy laughed unashamedly. This boy was definitely feeding on his suffering. Must be a new breed of humans, he swore.

As he tried his best to ignore the kid, the boy asked, "Hey mister, do monsters like you just don't eat at all and like how does that work?" Shooting up from his seat and planting his hands on his bed, he grinned, "Do you get it from the sun like plants!"

Nursing his growing headache, he replied, "No, I'm not a plant. I'm just like you." He was an Eldari, not Protoss. He can derive some sustenance from the warp, but even that is limited. "I need to eat, sleep and drink. I'm just not hungry at the moment."

"But your stomach's rumbling," The boy pointed out, "There it is right now!" He was never going to get rid of the kid after he talked to him, wasn't he?

Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned to the boy before glancing at the meal at his bedside. "If I eat one bite, will you shut up and leave me alone?" He asked, making the boy's face lit up.

Nodding happily, he replied, "Mhmmm! Scouts promise!"

Snorting, he turned to his meal. He really didn't believe the boy one bit, but with the hot soup so near, his body could no longer deny itself. He needed to eat.

Swallowing, he reached out with shaky hands and cradled the bowl on his lap. It was hot, probably fresh off the pot. It was also quite fragrant despite how strong the scent of tomatoes lingered in the air.

Grabbing the spoon, he stirred the soup, finding bits and pieces of what looked like some insect mixed along with whatever vegetable was thrown in the pot. It was revolting to look at, but maybe it wasn't so bad? While he knew that insects could taste good, heck his favorite Eldari dish involved a giant beetle like grub, so maybe he could stomach this?

Swallowing, he scooped a healthy serving before slipping it inside his mouth. That would prove to be a mistake as he gagged, spitting the vile concoction out as he tried to push the bowl away. He needed water.

Before he could spill the dish, the boy made a hasty grab for the bowl. "H-Hey! I made that!" The boy scolded him, red faced and fuming as he held the bowl, "Don't just spit it on the ground."

Ignoring the boy for now as he did his best to hold back what little was left inside his stomach, he reached out for the cup by his bedside and downed it without a second to waste. It tastes metallic from the can it was served on, but it did well to wash away the taste off his tongue.

"What the hell was that," He coughed, pounding at his chest as he stared at soup in horror. "It tastes so sour, salty and bitter," He gagged, already on the verge of throwing up once more and cursing his race's enhanced sense, "And oh Isha, the texture."

Wilting under his comments, the boy looked away dejectedly, "... You didn't have to say it like that." Seeing that down cast look on the boy's face, Eon felt terrible. Did he really have to be that harsh when things were already shitty around these parts?

"I'm sorry," He apologized, "I just had a very bad day." He honestly couldn't believe how shot his control was right now. He was usually on top of his emotions, yet now they came out in bursts, uncontrollable and raging.

"It's ok mister," The boy sighed as he scooped at the dish and gave it a taste, shuddering as he swallowed it down. Pushing it away, he explained, "It's fresh, but not really as good as the ones we loot off the abandoned buildings." This was the post apocalypse for humanity, the dark ages at its highest point.

Glancing at the boy, only now did he recognize the rags he wore. "I wonder if they're going to bring some over from the expedition…" The boy mused, eyes hopeful as he glanced at the window. "Want me to give you candy if they find one?" He offered freely without hesitation.

Staring at the kid, he found himself hating himself more. This kid… this kid was worse off than he was. Under all that smile was the worn fingers and skin like leather. This kid who grew up with nothing was now offering him what little respite he could have in this world.

He can't live with himself knowing that this was the world this precious kid lived in. How can they live like this? Grabbing the bowl, he dug in with gusto, swallowing what spoonfuls he could shovel in his mouth. Chewing would only make it worse.

"H-hey mister! Stop!" The boy shouted, "You don't have to force yourself to eat it!" Eon, however, refused, forcing sustenance down his throat.

"Thanks for the meal, kid," He coughed, grimacing as his stomach protested, "I needed that." That taste, this was the taste the kid lived with. If this was enough to make the boy smile, then he needed to show him there was more to life than this mere novelty. This was simply no way for anyone to live. Turning to the shell shocked boy, he asked, "You said you harvested this off in the greenhouse?"

"A glass house, but yes?" The boy asked shakily, his gaze still uncertain and uneasy, "Why do you ask?"

"Do you mind if you take me there?" He asked, forcing his aching limbs to move after so long. The rough fabric of his rags had taken its toll as he felt the rashes against his skin, but he had to move.

Walking over to the embedded knife, he pulled it out before grabbing it with both hands. Straining, he bent the bone before it snapped under his grip. "I just found something I wanted to do today."

-x-x-x-

Stepping out of his hovel and out in the sun, Eon found himself in a sun blasted hellscape. Under the harsh sunlight, he withered, his eyes watering while his deathly pale skin burnt under its deadly rays. Not even the air itself was safe as his lungs stung from the dust swirling in the air, something made worse as he panted under the blazing afternoon heat.

As he stumbled along, half blinded and in agony, he was starting to wonder if it was even a good idea to step outside and his suffering wouldn't go unnoticed. "You ok mister?" The boy asked, his form but a dark blob as his eyes strained to adjust.

"Yeah," He coughed out, powering through as the boy finally came into focus, "It's just been a while since I last went out." An understatement given how he spent a month holed up in his corner. "Just give me a minute."

With the help of the boy, he found himself under the cool shade of the hovel. The heat and dust was certainly a shock, but away from the sun's direct rays, he found that it wasn't that bad. The heat, while intense, was manageable once he wrapped himself up with the blanket he brought with him. The dust on the other hand merely required him to cover his mouth with more cloth. Gathering himself, he nodded. "I'm ok now."

"If you say so, mister," The boy replied as he grabbed hold of his hands and led him along. It was awkward having to bend over just to hold the kid, but the boy was insistent, arms seemingly read to try and catch him. He wasn't sure how that would work, but he commended the boy for his thoughts and effort.

As they walked along a narrow road, he gazed around and took in the sight of the bustling shanty town around them. Nestled against the side of a large mountain, he found himself gazing out to an empty expanse of bare rock, sand and the remains of once great megastructures littering the land.

Seeing the bare skeleton of what must have been a large void faring vessel, he whispered, "So this is Terra." The once proud capital of a great empire, now in ruins as its people were forced to scavenge and live off its carcass.

Gazing around, he found a motley collection of structures and people alike. The young, the old, the infirm and those just living by, all living together from what they could scrounge from the surrounding.

"Quite the village you got here," He noted as he saw how the people gazed at him with such fear and loathing. Turning away and tugging at sheets he called his clothes, he asked, "Did she take you all in?"

"Hmm?" The boy turned as he gave him a questioning look, "You mean the Nice Lady?" As he raised his brow, the boy grimaced, "Well not realllyyy?" Passing by a group of people with their pack… robot? He added, "We sorta just decided to live near her."

Taking a moment to take in the sight of such anachronistic tech with how primitive everything look, he now saw with his own two eyes how badly the Men of Iron revolt fucked over humanity. From the masters of the stars, to barely evening knowing how a toaster works. Techno Barbarians indeed, he noted.

"I'm surprised she allowed you to set up a village around her," He told the boy, "And the Nice Lady? Doesn't she have a name?" While the Empress certainly had lots of names, this was the first time he ever heard of her being called such.

"We don't really know her name," The boy shrugged nonchalantly, "I just call her the Nice Lady because she gives me candy whenever I come to talk to her."

Staring at the back of the boy's head, he snorted, "Sounds about right."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean!" The boy snapped as he turned around, cheeks puffed out while he glared at him. He was adorable, but he was just too much of a handful.

Shaking his head as he tugged at his Black Stone Collar, he replied, "Nothing." Eyes wondering to the crowd, he found himself taking pity at how tired and angry they all looked. Pushed to the extremes, these were desperate people, people who must have clung to her for salvation.

Feeling the hateful and judging stares of the people and the whispers of xenos and monsters alike, he kept his eyes forward, letting them be as he focused on someone more important. As he pushed his senses, stretching it out as far as his limitations could push him, and felt out the world around him, he asked, "About the Nice Lady, where is she right now?"

This collar he now wore hampered much of his ability. Unlike the cage, however, he could still use his psychic might, but it was far muted. It required effort to even tap at the Warp, something all the made harder at the taint he had to filter out, but he kept it on. It did have its uses. Turning away from the lingering shadows, he gazed back at the boy and found him deep in thought.

"I'm not sure?" The youth admitted, brow furrowed as he glanced at a certain building in the distance, one that was built on the side of the cliff, "She often just disappears in her cave or goes out to get some stuff to trade with the other folks."

Eyes following the boy's gaze, he asked as a sense of curiosity filled him, "Can we check in the cave?" He hadn't really thanked her, had he?

"No! Absolutely not!" The boy shouted back, quickly shutting down that idea. "Do not go in the cave or you'd be sorry," He warned him, "The last time somebody went in there, she tossed them out like they were scrap!"

Unfortunate, but understandable. "Sounds about right." She did come off as the solitary type, or at least that was what he got from what he could remember. There was not one decoration in that cave or even a speck of gold, just tools and stuff she had made.

"No one has ever gotten away from stealing from her. No one," The boy nodded before giving him a look."Why are you interested in her all of the sudden?" He asked, "Weren't we going to the glasshouse?"

"I just got curious, that's all," He replied, dodging the question. Looking around the surprisingly large and maze-like shanty town, he asked, "So, where is this glasshouse you told me about?"

"It's just around the corner!" The boy cheered as he picked up his pace.

Struggling to keep pace with the low hanging clothesline and random bits of roof jutting precariously close to the road, he would soon find himself inside a large glass dome. "Tadah!" The boy shouted as he ran past rows after rows of shelves filled with potted plants, "So, what do you think?"

"It's actually not that bad," He admitted, admiring the work around him; His hands brushing against the leaves of a tomato plant.

This must have been the remains of an actual garden, patched up and refurbished to produce crops rather than decorative plants. The stained glass, while faded, filtered much of the harsh light, diffusing it to a glow that filled the large, basketball court sized enclosure.

With the fans and the miles of wires hanging overhead connecting to various motors and pumps, it was clear that this was no project of a rank amateur; She made this. "Hydroponics huh," He smiled as he ran along tubing, feeling it vibrating from the rushing water inside, " It definitely cuts down on space."

"The Nice Lady made it for us!" The boy explained as he went over to a station and punched a series of buttons. Coming to life, the boy quickly moved to open a panel before feeding scraps, leftovers and refuse that were conveniently set aside at the corner. The community must be setting those aside for the garden.

"She kept getting annoyed how often everyone has to scavenge for food so she said we should just go make our own," The boy explained as he washed his hands over the trickle of a faucet.

Nodding, he marveled at the sight. It was certainly a work of art, but seeing the yellowed leaves in some of the leaves along with browning tips, it felt like it was strained to the limit. "Do you mind if I check these motors?" He asked, gesturing at the machine laying on the ground puttering along, "They look like they've been through hell."

"Just don't break them please," The boy begged as he grabbed a basket, "The Nice Lady just fixed it last week and she was already angry enough."

Nodding, he got to work, unhooking the motor for now and letting it rest. He recognized the design of the hydroponics. The plants wouldn't mind if the nutrient flow stopped for a bit. They had enough in their individual pots for a day or two before they became starved of nutrients.

Pulling out the broken blade, he whistled as it shifted slow to a screwdriver, before he started taking it apart. "How often do things break down?" He asked, finding weld marks and patch work fixes all over it.

"Alot," The boy answered exasperatedly, "Sometimes the water stops flowing, the power line cuts off, or the thing that makes the power breaks down." Shaking his head, the boy sighed, "A lot of things just break down around the village..."

As he sat down at the table near him, he said out loud, "They said we used to be able to make all this stuff, but I don't really see how."

"Trust me kid, you guys made good stuff," He replied as he changed his pitch, making a ball bearing and the casing for it. He made sure to make it as smooth as possible, changing the geometry of the surface so that it glides along.

There were just so many things he could do with Wraith Bones. He wished he just had more of it rather than him being forced to make more on the spot. With sweat beading down his forehead, he kept making more parts, cannibalizing what he could find and fusing it with wraith bone when he could.

"She really must care for you guys a lot if she keeps patching things up," He noted, stopping as he felt the welded metal under his hands.

"She is always angry whenever she fixes stuff, but she still fixes them," The boy smiled, "No matter how broken things get, she just picks up the pieces and puts them back together."

"She's a good person," He smiled. This glasshouse wasn't just her way off getting people off her back, it was testament to her care. For every hole, a patch lay over it. The woman was truly doing her best with her limited time and resources. "She truly cares, doesn't she?" He mused as he continued working away, piecing back the motor.

As a long silence stretched between them, the boy piped up, "So you said you have a farm just like this one?"

"A few of these types of gardens and large fields," Eon replied, remembering fondly his days. "My family owns this planet some ways off my species's home-world. It's a nice place," He whispered as a sad smile grazed his lips, "You'd definitely love it there."

"What's a planet?" The boy asked in incomprehension.

Chuckling, Eon explained,"Just think of every square mile of land you see out there being covered in crops. That's how big our farm was."

"That's a lot of tomatoes," The boy whistled.

With a few more twists and a satisfying snap, he was finally done. "Ok, it's fixed."

Blinking, the boy shot up and shouted in surprise, "Bwah!?" Hopping off the table, he inspected the device as Eon turned it on, "Wait, how's it broken? It was running just fine!"

"It was about to break down," He grinned as he stood up, now soaked in sweat, but thoroughly satisfied. There was just a certain sense of satisfaction in tinkering with tech. Patting the bone white casing, he grinned, "The pumps weren't working properly so I had to take it apart and make a new one."

Unlike the earlier motor, there was no more vibration, just the hum of a finely tuned device working just as it was intended. "It was finecky making my people's tech work with yours, but I think this'll last for a bit longer," He nodded. Hopefully, the self healing abilities of the wonderous psychoactive material would cut down on repairs.

Feeling the new casing, the boy frowned. "Wait, this isn't metal," He mumbled, tilting his head as he knocked on it, "It feels like… bone?" Turning to him, he asked, "What is this? I've never seen something like this before."

"It's Wraith Bone," He smiled back before he reached inside his pocket for a shard. Whistling, he pitched the material before stretching out, making the boy rear back in surprise. "Here, try breaking this twig," He told the boy as he tossed the spaghetti thin strand of bone.

Straining, the boy tried to break it, before he gave up. "Where did you find this?" He asked as he inspected the shard, "Is there more?"

"I made it," He replied.

"Bullshit," The boy fired back.

"Language," He chuckled as he adjusted the Black Stone Collar he wore. Grabbing himself another piece, he palmed it between his hands as he told the boy, "You know what, let me just show you."

Breathing in deeply, he centered himself, pushing aside the distractions as he focused on his heart. Feeling his beating heart and the echoes of his soul, he brought it forth, lips parting as he sang. With his voice echoing in the silent glasshouse, he sang to his heart's content, letting his voice free as he lamented his loss.

He let it all out, letting his emotions weave the very fabric of the warp, freeing it of its taint as he poured it into this shard. Grasping this kernel he guided it, coaxing it to grow into something more, something tangible, before it finally stopped with his voice dying down.

Holding his creation close, he smiled, wiping the tears of his eyes as he offered it to the boy. There in his hands was a small statue of his friend and lover. Cradling it carefully between his hands, he whispered in awe. "...Wow. You have a beautiful voice mister."

"Trust me, that sounded horrible," He laughed, voice cracking before he cleared his throat. Grimacing, he hissed out, "I really should have dranks something before this."

Fetching him some water from the faucet, jumping in surprise at the pressure, he came back cup in hand as he asked, "So you just sing and things appear? Can you teach me how?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, and learning it is even more so," He replied, grimacing still at the metal taste. Glancing at the device, he wondered if the filter was shot. Shaking his head, he turned back to the boy as he warned him, "Trust me. I spent a decade trying to make a single pebble."

"I can learn!" The boy protested.

In theory, nothing should stop the boy from learning it. Peering at their soul, there was a small spark there of something, one that lay dormant for now. He could teach him, but it was dangerous especially for someone so young, especially in this day and age.

"Maybe when you're older," He replied, not quite shooting it down so the boy wouldn't rush to do something stupid. "But seriously. This stuff can get dangerous because one wrong note and pop goes this thing," He warned, tapping him on the forehead, "So leave it to the professionals."

"Aww," The boy's shoulder sagged as he clutched the bone statue closely. Gazing down on it for a bit, he then asked, "Are there more people like you mister?"

"Yup, there's a lot more like me out there," He replied, "They call us bonesingers and with our voice, we make wonders." Patting his atrophied biceps, he grinned, "We're also really handy in making and fixing stuff!"
"So you're just like the Nice Lady?" The boy brightened before he suddenly asked, "Does she sing as well?"

Mouth opening, he thought for a moment before turning away at the ridiculous thought. Taking a moment to gather himself, he turned back as he answered, "Probably not and it might not be a good idea asking her to sing." With his tone tinged with amusement, he warned, "You've seen how angry she gets right?" Shuddering, the boy nodded.

Turning his attention back to the boy motor, the boy inspected it once more. Hesitating for a moment, he asked, "Can you help fix stuff for us?" Glancing away as he clutched the statue close, he mumbled, "The nice lady had been doing a lot of things and we sorta owe her…"

The boy was far too precious when he was earnest like that. "You know what, kid? Sure," He replied as he turned towards the entrance where their impromptu audience hung back, "And that's the same to all of you." As they flinched back, scampering away, he called out, "I know you guys have been listening so you can come out now."

For a moment, no one answered before a man with a broken arm prosthesis came forward. Soon, more followed as they looked at him with hope. There were a lot of people, but he had a lot of time in his hands right now. Clapping his hands, he commanded, "Ok people single line."

With renewed vigor, he dove into his temporary passion head first, fixing things to the best of his abilities. His life might be over, but he was still alive. He could still make something of what little he had to make people smile for just even a bit.

Iyanna would probably be angry at him for giving up so soon. There was still hope. He just needed to live through the Dark Ages. What was a millennia to the hopes of finding? While his life was in tatters, he simply had to pick up the pieces like these people and keep on moving forward.

A/N:

Eon's in a bit of rut, but a good kick in the face (In the form of a horrible soup that made him wonder how the hell people live like this) shifted him to high gear. It's still a long way from fixing himself up, but it's a start.