New Terra Histories by Malita s'Lissa s'vlor

Life is but a collection of moments, some more memorable than others.

Every now and again a moment comes along, so intense that indelible memories are forever carved in our minds. We remember what we were doing, feeling, seeing, hearing, and tasting at the exact instant our lives changed.

I remembered two things: the warm, rich scent of a powerful man, and the agony of the braklav.

June 2, 2136:

Aliens had landed. We were not alone. The Vendel had somehow risen into the sky and traveled to the stars thousands of years before the rest of humanity launched our first rocket to the moon. In the deep reaches of space, an empire flourished and we knew nothing about them.

I never understood why no one thought to ask why the Vendel had returned. With so many planets, why come back to Earth? Why had they left to begin with? Perhaps we should've asked before inviting them to dinner.

Death began with a simple cough or sneeze. Like the Black Death of the Middle Ages, people who were hale and hearty in the morning, were dead by nightfall. Billions died at the hands of the Vendel.

For a few of us, we weren't touched at all. At least not on the outside, inside was a different matter. The Vendel collected us, tested us, ranked us, and remade us, although it would be a long time before we understood what that meant.

Gregor Ulysses vlor'Malita claims to have our interests in mind, humanity's interests, and perhaps there is a kernel of truth in that statement.

Saviors?

How do you justify that to the dead?

One idea terrifies me. What if the Vendel are in fact, our saviors?

This is the continuation of my story…

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