Alas, Elah!
Elah's thoughts were swimming.
He knew there was only one way left for his people. Yet how could be bring himself to do it? He had already consciously shut himself off from the Erdh and this rejection alone would cause them great pain. Perhaps they would follow him to the Ends of the World even if he allowed them to enter his mind. Perhaps this barrier he had imposed was shielding his own sensitivities more than theirs. He didn't know. His thoughts swirled.
As he felt the plaintive wails echoing wavelike through every fibre of his being, a strange dying sadness overtook him. Would anyone lament the fate of his people? Would the actions of his Erdh be in vain? Elah drowned out all the wails with his call. The time had come.
It was no longer possible to know accurately how long ago the Outworlders had begun their brutal invasion. Perhaps even their measurement of time was so vastly different from that of Elah's people that no comparison was possible. Certainly their actions were almost unfathomable to him and this awareness stung him sharply. The thought struck him that even this action, the ultimate for any Erdh, might be misunderstood by the Outworlders. Yet there was no choice. What else could they do? They were powerless to combat the shallow and destructive war machines that enhanced the invaders' meagre stature; machines with which the Outworlders seemed to battle even more amongst themselves than against his people. They had steadfastly refused any attempts at communication, choosing instead to capture and slaughter blindly. Only once, long ago, had Elah sensed a kindred spirit within them, but the sentience had been fleeting.
He knew there was only one way left for his people. Yet how could be bring himself to do it? He had already consciously shut himself off from the Erdh and this rejection alone would cause them great pain. Perhaps they would follow him to the Ends of the World even if he allowed them to enter his mind. Perhaps this barrier he had imposed was shielding his own sensitivities more than theirs. He didn't know. His thoughts swirled.
As he felt the plaintive wails echoing wavelike through every fibre of his being, a strange dying sadness overtook him. Would anyone lament the fate of his people? Would the actions of his Erdh be in vain? Elah drowned out all the wails with his call. The time had come.
It was no longer possible to know accurately how long ago the Outworlders had begun their brutal invasion. Perhaps even their measurement of time was so vastly different from that of Elah's people that no comparison was possible. Certainly their actions were almost unfathomable to him and this awareness stung him sharply. The thought struck him that even this action, the ultimate for any Erdh, might be misunderstood by the Outworlders. Yet there was no choice. What else could they do? They were powerless to combat the shallow and destructive war machines that enhanced the invaders' meagre stature; machines with which the Outworlders seemed to battle even more amongst themselves than against his people. They had steadfastly refused any attempts at communication, choosing instead to capture and slaughter blindly. Only once, long ago, had Elah sensed a kindred spirit within them, but the sentience had been fleeting.
Publication History
"Alas, Elah!" was first published in the anthology, Dancing Poppies.