The Truth

[Isyander]

The villagers were restless, a loud murmur emanating from the crowd as they discussed among each other how to proceed. On the small stage before them on the square, the village's elected mayor and a few of the wealthiest inhabitants stood, speaking amongst themselves in hushed tones. Finally, one of them, the head of a proud family of farmers, turned towards the collected people and prepared to speak. The crowd fell silent and looked up at the tall, muscular man standing over them with expectation.

"It's time," he spoke loudly for all to hear, "that we show the stranger that our hospitality has its limits!"

Quiet mutters of approval coursed through the throng and many nodded their heads in agreement.

The stranger. To the villagers, he had appeared like an otherworldly being.

Like in many of the remote regions on Crete, much of the technology that had almost a millennium ago been lost with the Hispania had never found its way back to the colonists' descendants. To the simple farmers, woodcutters, miners, and fishermen the concepts of spacecraft, the neuralnet, or even an energy blaster were as foreign as that of manual labor to a Manhattan socialite. So, when a month ago, the stranger had descended from the cloudy sky aboard a flying vessel that dwarfed even the village's proud central hall, the primitive community had been struck with awe.

The stranger had come to them, offering gifts. Tools of design and function completely foreign to the villagers but capable of feats far greater than any of their simple machines. Weapons not only capable of killing the beasts they hunted at far greater range, but even cooked the flesh on impact. Devices that displayed images from other, alien worlds that none of them had ever seen nor would ever set foot on.

In return, the stranger had simply asked for privacy and permission to enter a nearby system of caves that snaked deep into the ground, farther than any of the villagers had ever dared venture. The mayor and elders had gladly granted his request.

Now, roughly a month later, however, the village's inhabitants had begun to regret the bargain. Since the stranger's arrival and descent into the caverns, strange sounds and tremors had plagued the settlement, as though chthonic beasts had been awoken from an eternal slumber below. Then, two youngsters, barely men, had ventured into the caves to investigate - never to return. Days were spent mourning their loss and cursing the stranger for enticing their youthful curiosity.

The villagers were fearful, afraid that the generous stranger from off this world was not the benevolent bringer of gifts, but rather a harbinger of doom for the town and its people.

"We will find him in his caves and flush him out!" The farmer shouted, causing the crowd to cheer. "Let him dig in a hole somewhere else!"

An hour later, a mob of fifty men and women approached the nearby caverns, carrying with them pitchforks, crossbows, axes as well as the few energy rifles the stranger had bestowed unto them. The farmer marched before them, a hatchet in hand, his body taught with anger and determination. Thirty yards from the cave's entrance, he motioned the mass behind him to halt and wait. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and approached the dark hole gaping in the side of a large hill.

"Hello!" He cried, one hand held to his mouth to amplify his voice. It echoed distantly. "Stranger! Come out!"

A minute passed in silence. Behind the farmer, the crowd shifted anxiously. He himself could feel a bead of sweat form on his brow, threatening to roll down his face. He was about to repeat his calls when he made out the sound of loose gravel being crushed under boot-clad feet. The man lowered his hand from his mouth, clasping his hatchet tightly in the other.

A figure stepped out of the cavern's shadow, covered in a heavy cloak and hood. It approached the leader with a calm gait, betraying neither distress nor hostility. A few more steps and it came to a halt a few feet from the man who had summoned it. The farmer was among the village's tallest inhabitants, standing a proud six feet tall and packed head to toe with muscle from decades of work in the fields. The stranger before him, however, towered over him, nearly a full head taller. It took one more step forward, coming within arms reach.

Nothing could be seen beneath the stranger's hood save for a faint, soft glow of orange light. The farmer swallowed heavily as he realized that the being before him might not even be human.

"You...," he started, suddenly unsure of what to say. "We, uh..."

The cloaked figure cocked its head to the side, as though curious. The farmer tightened his grip on his hatchet, hoping that it might give him courage.

"We no longer welcome you here," he finally blurted. He stared up into the dark void that was the stranger's visage and felt himself go pale. "We want you to leave."

For a moment, there was silence, the figure merely standing before him. Then the stranger spoke, his voice sounding oddly distant and distorted.

"Is that so?" The words harbored no malice, stated more as a matter of fact than a question. The leader licked his lips and nodded.

"Y-yes. We don't know what you're up to but we don't want you to go on!"

"I see," the stranger replied calmly. Then, without warning, his right arm shot up from beneath his cloak, clad in what appeared to be black armor. Faster than any of the onlookers could register, a gauntleted hand wrapped itself around the farmer's throat, squeezing tightly. With seemingly inhuman strength, the figure lifted the man off the ground till only the tips of his toes scrambled in the dirt beneath them. He gasped for air, dropping his hatchet and reaching for the stranger's arm, trying to free himself.

The crowd rushed forward in a mix of rage and panic at the sight, weapons raised and shouting angrily. They were silenced, however, when bolts of lightning erupted from the stranger's gauntlet and engulfed their leader's head like a cage of light. His body convulsed and his limbs contorted as shock spasms coursed through his muscles. As one, the mob stopped in their tracks, looking on in horror.

The lightning stopped as the tendrils of electricity retracted into the cloaked figure's hand. His grasp on the farmer's neck loosened until the man's body limply fell to the ground, a puff of dirt and dust billowing up around him. Smoke rose from the crumpled mass. The stranger gazed out at the throng of people, lowering his arm back beneath his cloak. The man at his feet coughed once, then perished.

The mob looked from their leader's body to the creature that killed him. A renewed rage erupted from the villagers and they stormed forward, tools and weapons raised to strike and shoot. The stranger before them stood his ground, not flinching.

A thunderous roar erupted from beyond the hill and a mighty dark shape took to the skies, careening towards the crowd. The ground between them and their target erupted into pillars of fire and dust as flashes of light shot forth from the flying vessel. Outrage turning into panic, the villagers scattered, some cowering in fear, others running every which way in an effort to escape the explosions.

"You will learn the Truth," the stranger's voice bellowed over the cacophony of energy blasts and screams. "You will all learn the Truth!"

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You will all learn the Truth!