Chapter 21 #2
Henry considers my words as he sips his tea.
I can tell he sees the truth behind what I’m saying.
“From the limited knowledge I have on Greek mythology, I would conclude that what you're describing is not far from the truth. The deities have always been quite the egocentric type. It’s a bitter taste to swallow knowing they are real, and they haven’t made any attempts to aid us.
” He then looks directly in my eyes. “Or to help you.”
“I’ve also been thinking about the chest, wondering how long it’s been buried in that cave, and why,” I say, letting my thoughts run freely.
I glance down at the plate of toast, trying to gather my ideas.
“I keep thinking the last Eudaemon must have come to the same conclusion.
Maybe even witnessed the precipice of humanity's downfall and decided to hide it away so no one—not even themselves—could ever use them. Makes me wonder if the bloody things can even be destroyed at all.” Acidity builds in my empty stomach, so I grab a slice of toast and take a harsh bite.
“It seems that as long as the artifacts remain intact, Eudaemon’s will emerge. No matter how cleverly they were hidden,” Henry observes. “And as long as they exist, there will always be a powerful threat against humanity.”
I will not lie and say I have not considered that. I’ve come to the same conclusion during my restless night. What I’ve yet to understand is what—if anything—we could do to stop this endless cycle and prevent the artifacts from getting into the wrong hands.
A terrifying thought comes to mind—one I’m scared to vocalize, as I fear I could be right.
“Do you remember what my grandfather said back on the S.S Charlotte?” I ask, mustering the strength to say this thought out loud.
“How, in our post-Great War world, could the artifacts be easily weaponized if the world were aware of their existence? Do you think—” I pause, looking into Henry’s eyes, “—the fight to claim ownership of the artifacts could easily cause another great war?”
Henry leans back in his chair, resting his arm on the table and twirling the teaspoon in his hand. “I can’t say for certain, but we did see how the last one started. Anything can be a powder keg that sparks a war.”
“Then we have to find a way to destroy them for good,” I say, coming to my own conclusion. “We can’t leave these here for someone else to take control of them. We must save humanity from self-destruction.”
Henry leans forward, placing a hand over mine.
“I don’t disagree with you, Clara. But let’s worry about that once you’re unbonded to them.
We still don’t understand how your connection to them works.
You could be harmed if we try to destroy them while you’re still the Eudaemon.
” He gives my hand a light squeeze. “But I promise to help you find a way to destroy them, once you are no longer the Eudaemon.”
Feeling slightly at ease knowing we have a plan, I can finally put my mind at rest for a while.
“Thank you,” I say, expressing my gratitude for not only hearing me, but for offering to help with a task that’s possibly more grueling than breaking my connection to the artifacts.
As we continue eating our breakfast in a still-empty dining hall, I feel the burdening weight of humanity on my shoulders. That if I don’t destroy these artifacts, whatever becomes of the world will all be my fault.
What if they don’t find a way to break my bond to them?
What will happen to me if the threat to humanity escalates, and we try to destroy their powers?
Would I need to sacrifice myself to save humanity, or is there a way to break it without harming me?
All these questions make me wonder what I’m willing to sacrifice to save a world that constantly tries to shove and belittle me into a mold I don’t want to fit into. Can I be a selfless hero, if need be?
Honestly, I do not know if I can.
As I finish my cup of tea, I push my ruminating thoughts aside and think about our day ahead.
In a few hours, we are to meet with my father, and I know Henry would like to work on his dissertation now that we are no longer in direct danger.
But what am I to do? I’m not certain if the base has its own library for me to browse through.
These next few weeks will truly be a testament to my patience and sanity.
“What shall we do until we meet your father later on today?” Henry asks, pushing aside his now-empty teacup.
I shrug. “Not sure what we could do. My father made it quite clear to us what we aren’t allowed to do. We don’t have our academic research with us to work on, so we’re a bit limited on how we can occupy our time.”
Soft rays of sunshine pass through the window, casting a warm light onto the side of our faces. We turn toward the light, glancing out the window at a blue sky with white clouds.
“We can go for a long stroll?” Henry offers.
“That we can do.”
The outside air is warming, not nearly as chilly as it was when we arrived at the dining hall, but it’s still cold enough that I keep Henry’s cardigan on. We walk side by side, my hand enclosed with his, walking in stride together as a married couple would.
It has helped that over the course of our tenuous travels, we’ve developed a rhythm with one another.
I can predict Henry’s actions as he can mine.
At times, I can sense what is going on in his mind.
I’ve never had this kind of relationship with anyone else besides Grandad.
Nor do I know if all friendships are like this, as I’ve never had a close non-relative friend before.
I sense how our newfound close friendship is helping us convey that we are truly a married couple.
We walk along the graveled pathway, with no clear direction in mind.
Occasionally, we walk past a private or an office administrator, and we nod to say hello.
No one has yet stopped to say a word to us.
A pinprick forms along my back as we walk along.
Dead silence hits our ears, and the mood around us is nothing but somber and eerie.
I certainly feel like an intruder, but I also feel as though we are intruding more than civilians.
“Do you think everyone in the base knows who we are? I imagine they don’t get many civilian visitors. Our presence must be jarring to them,” I say, scanning around the base, which operates on its timely schedule.
Henry places my hand in the crook of his arm and pulls it closer to his chest, protecting it from the chilled air. “Well, no one has yet to question why we are lurking about, so I suppose they all must know. Have you noticed the look on their faces? It’s as if?—”
“—the life has been sucked out of them?”
Henry chuckles. “Exactly. Their eyes and faces are so cold and stoic. I wonder what kind of things they must see and hear every day to become so lifeless. Seeing this is quite sad, actually.”
It reminds me exactly of my father. How devoting one’s life to this field can change you—possibly forever.
I wonder who these people were before they set foot inside the base, and if they regret making that decision.
Although thinking about my father and his life choices is distracting me from our reality, I would much rather discuss our uncertain future.
“Do you wonder what our life would be like once we are able to leave Hullbeck? It feels like a future so far away that it’s nearly impossible,” I say, wondering if Henry’s thoughts are the same as mine on the matter.
Henry places his free hand over mine that is still nestled in the crook of his arm.
“I know that must feel like it’ll never come to be for us—a day when we can leave, break your bond to the artifacts, and finally put this whole thing to rest. But no matter what, we must believe that it will happen—that we will return to our academic lives and even resume the expedition. ”
I glance at him. “And if we don’t?”
Henry looks down at me, his soft hazel eyes warming my cheeks. “Then who else will save humanity if we don’t?”
We continue walking in silence as I consider his words, knowing deep down that he is right. I cannot lose faith in myself and our team, despite the tremendous odds against us. There is too much at stake to consider failure as a possibility.
My running thoughts get disrupted as an Austin Saloon pulls up and parks right beside us. We stop and watch as Private Fredrick climbs out—a look of surprise on his face—as if he forgot that there are non-military personnel on the base.
He walks over with a faint smile on his face and curtly bows. “Mr. and Mrs. Ashford, it’s a pleasure to see you both again. How are you faring here at Hullbeck?”
Henry and I glance at each other, uncertain how we should respond.
Private Frederick leans forward and glances around, as if he is about to share a secret. “It’s alright,” he whispers, “you can tell me it’s dreary and dull. On the outside, it looks to be the least exciting of our military bases, being that it is also the most important of them all.”
Important? Why would this base be more important than the others? Isn’t it a training base?
“And why is that?” I ask, unable to let the opportunity pass me by.
Private Frederick stands straighter and takes a step back. Confusion is written across his face. “This is an experimental research base…” he says, glancing between us for an understanding that is not there.
“An experimental research base?” Henry repeats.
“Yes,” Private Frederick assures. “Your father pioneered this effort a few years ago, Mrs. Ashford.”
He waits for recollection to register, but continues when it does not.