Writing The Dogarta Chronicles [M-LV]

[Vicky]

[SIZE=1]Note: Jesus Christ the Prelude is cheesy... but nevermind. Dogarta was a story I did years ago, unfortunately I looked back and saw it was terrible. So I redid it. Most of my inspiration actually comes from [I]this[/I] story, hence why I often use the name Dogarta in role plays. This is the Prelude and the first part of Chapter One. The Prelude is quite old, hence the... cheese... but I don't want to edit the Prelude since I can't remember who the fuck Luther is. So yes, old Prelude, and Chapter One which I wrote yesterday. I haven't edited through it, so it's a first draft. I'll love you forever if you read and comment. Since it was done in Word, I didn't use double spacing at first, so I had to edit that in a few moments ago. Also, no bold speech, either. Sorry =(

Again, excuse the mistakes in it. Wrote it yesterday and haven't checked it.[/SIZE]

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[CENTER][B][U]The Dogarta Chronicles:[/U]
Red Eyes[/B]


Prelude,
[I]To the darkness.[/I][/CENTER]


[SIZE=1]The air breathed salt from the sea onto the island, icy salt, a quality that a cold winter?s morning normally possessed. The island itself was cold and rather quiet, not even the waves made a sound when they crept up to the shore. Perhaps the only sound was a shallow breathing, harsh breathing, like someone was dying. But this man wasn?t dying. It was even doubted that he could die. He was a tall man, and not just physically. His pride and royalty were shown by his armour and the smug look on his face, and he was right to be arrogant about himself. His people were perceived as demons, demons of the Universe, so they were ultimately one of the strongest in existence. And not just physical strength, again. They were strongest because of their loyalty to themselves and their ability to overcome almost anything. Who said arrogance was a bad thing? It just made you feel better about yourself.

Adofo, right now, felt so good about himself. He was the Prince of his people, the apparent strongest in the Universe. His race were called demons for a reason. On Earth, millions of years ago, two of his ships crashed. His people were lost, but due to their unique ability to never die from age they lived for years. When they were sighted people made up stories, stories about demons, with red skin and horns? stories of the devil himself. This was what Adofo was, his people. They were demons, through and through.

The two crews of the ships that crashed millions of years ago were eventually killed, one way or another, but not before Adofo figured out what was going on. His first act as Prince was to check out the planet, which he did? but not before Darius got there before him. Long story short, Adofo didn?t like Darius. Adofo hated Darius and his people, always undermining his authority, always thinking they had the right to be free. Only the strongest had the right to be free, therefore Darius had no right. Darius tried to get together some of the humans, descendants of the original crew that crashed, to fight Adofo. Darius gathered only a few, none of them took Adofo?s interest? except Luther. There was something about him that wasn?t right. For a long time Luther and Adofo found themselves amazed by each other, Adofo even thought that Luther was just as strong as himself. Well, they were about to find out. Adofo, defending his people?s morals and philosophies against Luther, defending his entire planet.

The waves washed onto the shore once again, flowing over a young man who lay in his sand, black hair matted against his pale forehead and a torn shirt just clinging to his back with stray blood. When the water finished washing over him, he stirred, turning his head out of the sand and opening his eyes. The sun was directly in his eyes, but he didn?t need to protect them, because he didn?t have normal eyes. Every inch of his eyes, the iris, the pupil, was tinted red. A gift from the Demons of the Universe.
?Good morning, Mr. Luther.? Adofo, sat idly on a rock, said with more than a hint of amusement. His voice was as strange as he was, demonic if you wish. Another gift of his people was that Adofo?s voice would gain an eerie echo, it was a sign of royalty and respect. Only the greatest gained an ability to invoke fear through the sound of their voice.

Luther rose to his feet, running a hand through his wet hair. He exhaled shakily, trying to remember what happened. The wind blew cold air into his face and he gasped when the memory of his friends flooded back to him. He closed his eyes and uttered something under his breathe, feeling the hate and anger jump back into him. His eyelids shot open and he looked upon the demon, sat smugly on his rock, wanting to show how much he hated him. Luther squared his shoulders, characteristically, and simply smiled.

?Good morning.? He said, choking back an awful lot of hate.

?Are you well?? asked Adofo.

Luther titled his head. ?Aside from the back pain, I?m fine.? Luther smiled a fake smile. ?I?m surprised to see you here, Adofo. It always comes down to this, doesn?t it? Me and you. And I must admit I?ve never grown tired of you. Always there, at the end.?

?Oh? And what end is it now?? laughed Adofo. He knew very well what Luther meant by ?the end?, he was just trying to make the boy angry, as he had been doing for so many years. Luther was very good at hiding his emotions and appearing as some calm, classy man. Though at the beginning, when Luther first met Adofo, he couldn?t even hide a tear.

?I mean that we met when my former life ended, we met when my loyalty to myself ended? and now we meet when the life of my friends has ended.? Luther hoped to God that the sadness he felt wasn?t being portrayed in his voice. ?I wonder, Adofo? did you kill them? Did you kill them and, once again, fail to kill me??

Adofo simply laughed. ?Maybe.? He stood up, pacing the beach until he was level with Luther. ?Poor fool. You think you can defend these people? This whole planet? No, not against me. Not against us. Neither could your friends. Now they?re in the sea. Sinking? sinking? until they fall to the seafloor, and decay.? His smile turned slowly into a frown. ?You?re next whether you like it or not.?

?You wouldn?t kill one of your own kind, would you?? asked Luther.

??You?re not one of my brothers.?

Adofo, unlike Luther, was allowed to show his anger. He had already leapt at Luther with intentions to implant the edge of his gauntlet into Luther?s face, but the boy had managed to scurry to the side and avoid being hit. Adofo stayed knelt in the sand for a moment before jumping up and hitting out at Luther again who simply moved back. The pain from his back was causing Luther to wince in pain to the point where he almost fell to the floor.

?You had it all Mr. Luther! Now you?re going to lose it all! No one rivals us, it?s a law of nature, a law of reality! And if it means killing you to get that lesson through your tiny human skull, so be it.? Adofo snarled, his head bowed as if he was going to charge Luther with his large horns. He didn?t. He just continued. ?That ship over there is the original that fell, the last one left. You?re going in that ship and I?m sending you into the sun! Only Althilmirians can survive the sun!? he finally charged Luther, his hand grasping around Luther?s throat, lifting him from the floor, choking him. ?And you?re only part Althilmirian!?

Luther?s hand clasped around Adofo?s in an attempt to stop his choking. It didn?t work. He could feel the demon?s claws ripping into the back of his neck, he could feel the life slowly sinking away. Luther looked down at Adofo, managing to see through the messy black hair that was covering the demon?s eyes. Adofo?s eyes matched Luther?s, that was one of the few things that made them the same.

Luther reached out for his eyes, Adofo thought it was just something humans did before they died. But Luther was only half human. He was still smart enough to know that he wasn?t beaten until he was truly dead. In a blind fury, Luther thrust his hand forward, into Adofo?s eyes. The demon released him in a cry of pain, staggering back, tripping, falling on the floor because he couldn?t hold his head and large horns up anymore. Luther was on his knees, hand to throat, laughing.

?They say someone?s eyes are the gateway to their soul. You don?t have a soul, so it must be the gateway to your insides! And it must hurt!? Luther laughed. He took his chance, perhaps the only one he would ever get, and stood up to run at Adofo.

He ran at the demon and kicked him in the ribs. Adofo normally wouldn?t feel it, but the icy morning wind had made him weaker than he thought. He rolled over onto his back, growling at his own incompetence. No mercy for the weak, he always said. And no mercy was he given.

Luther had picked up a rather large rock, and he was already standing over Adofo, with a smile on his face. This smile wasn?t fake.

?For Morgon, my beautiful friend? and more. For Darius, legend and teacher. For Sethos, the only good tyrant I ever knew. And for my own god-damn comfort!? Luther shouted down at the demon, raising the rock higher. He threw it down with all his might, not even shaken by the sound of the rock crashing against Adofo?s skull. The rock had hit the demon in the forehead, cracked his large crimson horn, and it slowly rolled down the shore into the sea, leaving Adofo unconscious with black blood flowing from his wound.

Luther inhaled slowly, breathing out cold ice to add to the already dim air. He looked over to where Adofo had indicated the ship was, seeing a large red object hidden in the trees. There was a metal platform coming down onto the ground; the ship was open.

Smiling to himself, Luther made his decision, in half the time it would take anyone else. He took Adofo?s leg and threw it over his shoulder, dragging the demon through the sand by his foot. He did so with little effort, not caring if the demon?s head was pulled over a rock or two. Luther really didn?t care for Adofo at all. Revenge? Partly. Part of Luther was going to kill Adofo for revenge of his friends, part of him was doing it out of moral laws. All of him was determined to kill the demon.

There was a sense of dishonesty in Luther as he dragged Adofo up the metal plank and into the hot red ship. The ship inside was rather big, bigger than it seems, dark and dull with only one window at the front. Ignoring his dishonesty, Luther lay the demon down at the back of the ship, next to old boxes with God knows what in them.

Luther walked down to the front of the ship on sturdy floor, coughing from the smoke and steam that had built up in the ship over the thousands of years. The control panel in front of him was covered with dust and dirt, though the flashing lights proved it worked. One of the gifts of being an alien being like Adofo was the knowledge; a sort of sixth sense would lean Luther to make the right decision, especially if it involved Althilmirian technology. Instinct, an instinct of brotherhood that ran strong in their blood. Luther always trusted his instinct.

He sat down at the control panel, running his had over the smooth glass texture, wiping away dust as he did so. He tapped the panel twice, there was a clicking sound in the ship, a beep, then a hiss. More smoke filled the already foggy ship, the metal plank retracted and began to close up the entrance to the ship with the loud hiss of hydraulics. Luther sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow and thinking only for a moment about his decision. He tapped the console a few more times, heard the clicking and beeping of the old ship systems and turned to Adofo, who lay motionless on the floor.

?Good night, sleeping Prince. Here end the lesson.? His smile was somewhat regretful, though not for Adofo?s life. Rather for his own. He didn?t have much time to think about it, the ship?s sudden jolt caused him to forget what he was about to think. Even without looking at the falling scenery on the screen he knew the ship was taking off, partly because he could hear the burning engines and feel the gravity fighting against them. It was a feeling he had never felt before, it didn?t make him ill, it didn?t make him scared, hell, he didn?t even feel the sort of wonder he always felt when encountering something new. He just sat back in the chair, listening to Adofo?s ragged breathing, and smiling for what would perhaps be the last time.

Another jolt sent Luther off the chair and sat against the console, the ship shaking through the atmosphere wasn?t a very pleasant feeling. As soon as the shaking began it stopped with another jolt sending Luther?s head forward, hurting his already scarred back more when it crashed back against the console. The ship straightened out, boxes fell off each other and onto Adofo?s head.

Luther smiled and closed his eyes when the demon stirred awake, disorientated at first, though when he came to his senses he sat up, shaking his head and rubbing his horns.

?L-Luther?? he stammered. ?Luther! What the hell have you done?!? the demon screamed, running forward and frantically tapping controls on the console to change their fight path. Luther, meanwhile, was still sat down, laughing. Sadistically, maniacally. He was proud of himself for what he was about to do, proud of himself for once in his life. He was about to do an act that would make his brother proud, something he set out to do a long time ago.

?I?ve done the Universe a favour. In a few minutes, we will burn in the sun.? He stood up beside a devastated Adofo and put a hand on his armoured shoulder. ?Together. As enemy and ally.? He smirked, moving away to the boxes and seating himself in a fine position so he could see the stars out of the view screen. Adofo, still quite shocked, soon joined him.

?You?ve frozen the controls. You?ve locked us in. You?re going to kill yourself to kill me?? he whispered, somehow losing that eerie echo for a moment.

?I small loss.?

Adofo turned to Luther and laughed. It was said that they didn?t have fear, the Althilmirians, Demons of the Universe, had no fear at all. Adofo disagreed at this point. He was scared but that fear was being overpowered by a sense of peace and pride? for Luther. Luther had achieved something that no one else could do, he had just committed a selfless act, something no Althilmirian had ever done in his life. Adofo had respected Luther for a long time, but the feeling of respect for his mortal enemy was greater than ever.

?It?s been a good few years, hasn?t it?? asked Luther with a grin.

?It has.? Adofo agreed with a slow nod. ?I must admit that you are an admirable opponent. I?m saddened that you?re going to die, with me. But I?m glad I get to die with someone as great as you. I?m glad I wasn?t killed by that idiot Darius, that would be the most unworthy death ever.?

Luther bit his lip, exhaled. ?What happens to the throne once you?re gone? Aren?t you the last son of the King??

Adofo nodded regretfully. ?When I die no one takes my place. Without a ruler the Althilmirians lose their path, they stray from the line of military order and they become brutal wild beasts. We?re not so brutal, you know. We?re geniuses. Every single Althilmirian, on every single planet, contributes in more than one way to our cause.? He looked over at the screen, the sun was drawing closer. ?The Althilmirian Army is the strongest because of it?s unity. The unity was created by my brothers, my brothers dictated that the unity was commanded by one royalty, the one ruler. Without that ruler they have no orders. Without that order they have no meaning. With no meaning, they revert back to a life of savagery.? He smirked at Luther. ?Maybe you haven?t saved your people after all.?

?Oh, but I have.? Luther laughed. ?I?ve made an example of myself to many on my planet, and not only that but my son, the one you didn?t kill, will be alive with my blood. That blood will save us all one day, and kill your people. Finally. Everything has to end sometime.?

The two looked up to the screen once more, the ship gave an almighty jolt and the heat suddenly became something quite insane. Luther thought back on his life, all he had done and all he had failed to do, and he wondered if Adofo was doing the same thing. Death would always come, even to the apparently immortal demons. Adofo was bound to die despite his arrogant, despite his determination to live forever. Forever was nothing.

?Here end the lesson.? Luther whispered.

??Yes.? Adofo?s voice was shaky, hoarse, defeated, something Luther never thought he would ever see or hear.

He tilted his head and, instead of watching his doom draw closer, the boy watched Adofo. His expression was priceless. The demon?s jaw hung slightly open, baring sharp teeth and a look of devastation still on his mouth. Although, like always, it was his eyes that told the story. His eyes were fixed on the view before him, totally motionless, a little scary, in fact. Through the clouds of red and white in his eyes, Luther saw something he thought incapable of an Althilmirian. Fear. Unique, maybe to this one Prince, was the fear of death. Why were they so scared of dying if they gambled their whole life every day? Their genius was flawed.

?Adofo?? Luther said with an equal amount of fear building. ?Are you? afraid??

Adofo turned to Luther, looking just as scared as Luther thought he would be, a strange absence in his eyes, peace at least. There wasn?t anymore hatred or angry, it was an absent peace.

?Yeah...? He murmured.

In what seemed like a blaze of glory, the ship began to disintegrate in the sun.







[B][CENTER][U]Chapter I.[/B]
A Second Chance.[/U][/CENTER]

[I]Xorphia, 4056[/I]

The hall was dancing with lights, or rather the lights were swaying. The dark room seemed to stretch for a mile, it was filled with people and these occasional lights in the air, small red flames being swayed side to side by whoever held them. At the front of the hall was a platform, or a stage, which was just as black as the room, except for the fact that a few spotlights were directed down at the stage. The spotlights fell on three figures, two stood side to side, on being a man and another being a woman. The other figure stood further back, sat in fact, behind one of Xorphia?s most ancient musical instruments, brought back by Kovar himself who was said to play the piano. The people below were holding torches, lighters, or anything that made a small light, and swaying to the third figure?s piano playing. Occasionally the two other figures would join in, adding some vocals to the piece, a few of the crowd would sing along, but their voices could never outmatch the ones on the stage.

A long time fan of music, what little of it was left, happened to be Dogarta. Due to his size he couldn?t see stood up, so he sat at the back on one of the speakers, legs crossed and a smile on his pale, young face. He was dressed in his normal attire, a plain white shirt with a black tie and a pair of torn, rough black trousers. The Outskirts had no place for formality, and a suit wasn?t even considered formal, so he wore it. His hair wasn?t long, nor was it short, it fell down over his ears and sometimes his icy blue eyes. Red hair, dark red, not really ginger, more of a red colour than anything else. Another thing he was proud of.

Society on Xorphia had outlawed music, well, just the concerts. In the public areas of formality and society there was no room for music. No room for a soul. Dogarta didn?t live on the Outskirts, he was a son of a Governor therefore he was a very rich boy and wasn?t allowed to the Outskirts. He hated that. He hated the fact that the Xorphians, proud descendants of humanity, led by Kovar, were destined to be so heartless. Going to a concert in the Outskirts was a punishable offence, punishable by the worse penalty (the death penalty had been abolished years ago). Dogarta didn?t care. Kovar was his idol, his hero, he knew Kovar better than the Xorphians.

Four thousand and fifty nine years ago, Kovar left Earth after settling the Third Stage of Human Evolution (for lack of a better name). He took the chosen humans to Xorphia, to start a new life, and there he lay down his laws. The dates were reset, Kovar left for reasons unknown, and the Xorphians grew. Kovar was their legend, their hero, their everything. He was Dogarta?s everything. Since Kovar played the piano, which Dogarta did as well, then way was music so bad?

A smile crept on Dogarta?s face when the song finished, final song of the night. The crowd stood silent for a moment, the lights flickered out, a ground breaking applause erupted throughout the room. Whistling, cheering, clapping? the three on stage gave a small bow, one of them shouted a thank you, and Dogarta joined in with the celebration.

It wasn?t long when the lights started to fill the room again and the large crowd packed tightly to the front of the stage started to move out. Dogarta, giving a satisfied sigh, leapt down from his place atop the speakers and blended into the crowd. The people were very friendly, new faces he had never seen before patted him on the shoulder and nodded politely, saying brief hello?s and brief comments about the concert. Dogarta merely smiled at them all enthusiastically and nodded back.

He entered the corridors that led to the outside and followed the crowds, the numbers were decreasing. As Dogarta neared the exit there was a whistling from behind him. He turned, looked, and saw two men leaning against the wall of the corridor, both incredibly tall dressed in suits, though that didn?t hide their lack of funds. The unshaven faces and scruffy hair gave that away.

?Hey Dog Boy, over here!? shouted the tallest man, standing up right. ?I have a surprise for you!? he added on. Dogarta pushed back through the crowds, fully aware he was in the wrong direction and thus causing an inconvenience. He arrived at his two friends, Staan and Zurviel.

?Good time?? asked Dogarta with a smile.

Staan, the tallest, laughed and put his hand on Dogarta?s shoulder. ?Yeah. You?d be wanting passes to the next gig, right?? he asked, hot breath on Dogarta?s face.

?Well, no, see I can?t borrow any more money and I need to put this back in my father?s - ?

?Of course you do!? Staan cut him off. ?C?mon, Dog, you?re going to let this one go just because you?re not allowed here? That didn?t stop you this time. Shouldn?t stop you next time. And if you?re not going to get caught then you won?t need to explain, if you don?t explain then your father will never understand how far he?s gone from the true ways of Xorphia.? Staan pointed to the ceiling as if they were the stars. ?What do you say??

?Staan, I can?t.? Dogarta breathed. ?This money in my pocket has to be back in my father?s desk or I?ll get in so much trouble?? he trailed off, ?I?m sorry, Staan.?

Zurviel laughed with Staan. ?Ha. Told you. He wasn?t worth it.? Zurviel snarled.

?I was!? Dogarta protested.

?Then prove it.? Staan took a golden ticket out of his pocket, he waved it in Dogarta?s face, tempting him. ?Money now. Ticket now. It?s so simple. Are you a politicians up there with the dead guys, or a real, fighting machine with at least some form of passion that keeps him alive? Besides, Dog, I?m not giving you a choice. Next concert. You?ll be there.? Staan pushed the ticket into Dogarta?s hand, satisfied by the fear he saw on his face, and reached into the young boy?s pocket, pulling out all of his money.

?Hey Dog, that?s what friends are for.? Zurviel said, ending with a laugh. Dogarta, eyes cast downwards, just nodded and murmured in agreement before walking away.

He shuffled through the crowds and kept his eyes down all the way, hands in his pockets, icy blue eyes on the floor. He stopped when nearing the exit, a cold harsh wind hitting his face followed by drips of hard water. Shrugging his collar up a bit more, he proceeded out into the rain. It lashed down on him fiercely, no mercy at all. It collected in the streets, in the gutters, flooding the already destroyed parts of the Outskirts. Others, those who lived in the Outskirts, were on their way home, barely being touched by the rain, while Dogarta was forced to have his red hair stuck to his forehead by an unruly weather climate in the Outskirts.

The night was dark, yet there were stars in the sky, always stars. No matter where you were, the City or the Outskirts, Xorphia made sure there were stars. It was something Kovar dictated. The stars were a symbol of hope, a symbol that meant you shouldn?t give up because the furthest star will always be furthest away, so you had to keep going, even if you would never reach it. A good philosophy, Dogarta thought, thought he was too much of a coward himself to try it out. Too much of a push over to have his own life; he had to let others rule it.

He slipped slightly on the sidewalk, into a puddle of water, sighing as he did so. Pathetic, that?s what he was. He hated most things; his life, the rain, the world, the Xoprhians who lacked compassion that their dead leader valued so much. Kovar wouldn?t be proud of the Xorphians anymore. At least he shouldn?t have been angry at Zurviel or Staan, they weren?t very good people but they were getting there. Reverting back to the old ways like everyone else in the Outskirts would eventually do.

He came to a bridge, barely visible from the lack of light, but he knew exactly where it went. The bridge was somewhat like a portal, it separated the Outskirts from the City. Once you crossed it, you entered into the City?s world, technology controlled the weather, the climate was always perfect, never too harsh and never too soft. It was a completely controlled environment, and that?s why people form the Outskirts never went to the City and why people from the City were never allowed into the Outskirts.

He crossed over the bridge and nearly slipped on the wet stones, eventually finding his footing again when he crossed through the threshold. The rain had stopped pouring on his head and the ground was softer, that was the only difference in the environment so far. Ahead there were buildings, millions of them, glass ones of all colours and all height squashed together with only a few roads in between. Even at night the City was alive with lights. It wasn?t appealing to Dogarta at all.

Sighing, he jogged forward with his hands in his pocket towards the city. Hopefully his father wasn?t home yet, he would go crazy seeing Dogarta getting home this late. Not to mention the rain would give away where he had been. When he got into the depth of the City, underneath all the tall buildings, he felt the few people that walked past looking at him. A lot of people knew who Dogarta was, he had a criminal record (though Dogarta didn?t class them as crimes) and his father, Murphy D.L., was a Governor. Dogarta looked down at the floor and tried not to make eye contact with anyone, trying to forget the fact that they were there and he was back in the City.

He came to the end of the long row of buildings, away from the skyscrapers there were the houses, situated neatly between fields and trees. Dogarta?s home was behind a few other?s, the largest one in the area, not surprising since his father was a very important man. He negotiated his way between the other houses, careful not to go anywhere near their land, until he came to the gates of his own home. He snuck through the large silver gates, trying to close them without much noise, and ran up the stone stairs to the front of his house. When reaching the door he did the same as he did with the gates, opening it with as much silence as possible.

The hall, first room of the house, was empty and dark, although the outline of the stairs and other large, oak doors were visible (it wasn?t even real oak, Xorphians didn?t believe in killing trees). With a heavy sigh of relief Dogarta crept forward and was stopped when he took a single step.

A light shone brightly in the hall all of a sudden, reflecting off the white marble and into Dogarta?s, who winced painfully. A man dressed in a long, black robe with red cuffs and a neat expression (or lack of expression) on his face stood near the stairs, nodding at Dogarta peacefully. Dogarta closed his eyes and swore under his breath.

?Welcome home, sir.? The man said with a nod. He was the family servant, Dogarta didn?t know his name, he never asked. ?Your father is waiting for you. Would you like a towel?? he added.

Dogarta ran his hand through his hair and noticed how wet it was. ?Err? no, no thanks.? He replied briefly.

The butler gave a small nod and began a fast paced walk up the stairs, which Dogarta had trouble keeping up with. The butler led him through the halls and through several doors in the house, never once looking back to check on his master?s son. Suddenly, he did stop, at a large red and gold door. He turned around to face Dogarta, staring blankly with his old relic of a face. He simply indicated for Dogarta to enter and left it at that.

With a slow sigh and a crack of his neck, Dogarta twisted the door handle and pushed the door open slightly, peering in. His father?s office, bad news indeed. The room was quite large, like everything in the house, and was filled with red and gold objects. There were large windows at the back of the room behind his father?s desk and two doors to the left and the right, always locked. Dogarta stepped into the room, getting an eerie feeling causing him to shake with nervousness. His father was in the room, he could tell. He was sat with the back of his chair facing Dogarta, tapping his hand on the arm of his chair to the tick of the clock just above him.

?How was your day?? asked Dogarta?s father, his voice old and hoarse.

?Fine.? Dogarta muttered a reply.

There was a long, long pause after that. Dogarta couldn?t hear his father breathing but he could hear his own breaths, sharp and scared. He had always been scared of his father, even then it didn?t stop him from always undermining his authority.

His father stood up, a tall, buff man, always dressed formally, more formally than his son, anyway. His hair was dark red with dabs of grey, neatly combed back and not too long. His large hand was still tapping to the sound of the clock, his gold ring sometimes catching on the arm. He walked around his desk to the front, leant back on it, and looked at Dogarta, a little regretfully.

?Why is it that you can?t understand what I?m trying to do here? Why is it that you have to go against everything I ask, everything I do, without a reason? Why, Dogarta, why?? he asked firmly. ?I was worried about where you were, the Outskirts are dangerous. Do you realise that because of you I missed a very, very important meeting that may reveal Xorphia to the rest of the Universe and possibly start an intergalactic war with our neighbours? Do you get that, Dogarta? Do you get the fact that if you keep undermining my work we might find ourselves in a war, with no saviour to save us this time?? he voice was rising now.

?I-I didn?t m-mean?? Dogarta stammered.

?You didn?t mean to?! Shall we just take your criminal record files and rename it Dogarta?s ?I didn?t mean to? list? How can you not mean to run out for a whole day at some run down, isolated, barren wasteland of a civilisation? The only reason that place is still around is because it?s inhabited! Otherwise we would have destroyed it years ago!?

?I won?t do it again!? Dogarta yelled.

His father moved forward all of a sudden, grabbing Dogarta by the scruff of his collar. As if he knew where they were and that they would be there, he took out a ticket, for another concert, waving it in Dogarta?s face for a moment before throwing it back down on his desk and sitting on the chair in a huff.

Dogarta stared at the floor, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes.

?Look at me.? His father ordered. Dogarta shook his head. ?For Kovar?s sake, look at me!?

Dogarta looked up then and was glad he wasn?t scared anymore. He doubted his father was seeing a scared little boy anymore. He hated it when people even used Kovar?s name when they weren?t allowed to. It was completely unworthy of them.

?You know we?re right. Deep down you know you?ve all strayed away from the real meaning, the real reason for living. You?re so old that you?re scared of change. You?re scared of new culture, new ideas, you?re just so old it?s scary. Don?t ever use his name, you?re not Xorphians, they?re his people, his people wouldn?t be so? pathetic.? Dogarta snarled.

His father sighed. ?It?s not about who?s right or wrong anymore. If you love Kovar so much, then you can go and live with him, in his time.? He opened his drawer and took out a small packet of pictures and written letters, handing them to Dogarta. ?You haven?t been punished because you?re my son. I won?t be responsible for you anymore. You?re old enough to take care of yourself and your own actions. We have no death penalty, though now I wish we had. I?d rather know my son was with the Gods rather than being lost to a world we know so little about.?

A world they knew so little about? that was Earth, from 4800 to 5060 there was absolutely nothing in Earth?s history about what happened to the culture or even civilisation. 5060 was the year when history was recorded again, the year that the Third Stage of Human Evolution began and Kovar, the world?s biggest hero and still a hero in Xorphian history, took the chosen people to their new planet. There was a hug gap in history, to Xorphia it was like a pit of doom, they couldn?t stand not knowing everything.

?You don?t mean? you can?t. That would just mess up? you can?t? you wouldn?t do it to your own son!? Dogarta shouted at him. His father just gave a sigh and no reply. ?You wouldn?t do that to your own son! ?Would you?? added Dogarta with a gulp.

A sigh. ?I?m sorry, Dogarta. I really am sorry.? He flicked his hand, an order, and the doors on both side of the room were flung open. Dogarta looked to both sides, armoured police in white and black stormed into the room with weapons drawn and pointing them at Dogarta. Dogarta was speechless, and he didn?t understand at all. A man, not armoured or with weapons, but instead in a long, white and gold cloak and a hood, stepped forward to speak.

?The new penalty for villains like you has been decided. You are hereby banished from Xorphia and sentenced to life on Earth, 5002. There you can live out your natural life but you will never be allowed to return to Xorphia, even if you did find a way?? the new figure said.

?I deny all of it! I?m not the criminal, you are, you all murdered yourselves!? Dogarta protested.

?Stop trying to be smart.? His father said, annoyed.

?Yes, it doesn?t suit you.? The white robed figure said with the tiniest hint of humour. ?Your fate is you fate. Nothing can be done. Now, do I need these men to escort you out, or will you comply with our commands??

Dogarta said nothing.

?You brought this upon yourself, boy.? His father added in, sitting back on his chair and turning around to face away from his son. ?I can?t be responsible for you anymore.?

One of the police grabbed Dogarta by the arm, urging him towards the door. Dogarta was staring at his father and provided little resistance to them, still quite in shock about the whole situation. He looked down at the floor and walked obediently with the police towards the door.

He stopped, just for a moment, and turned around. ?You should have just killed me yourself. Maybe it would have opened your eyes a bit more.?[/SIZE]