Interlude: Altringham

Interlude: Altringham

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Commisioned by Althero

Wordcount: 1750

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In every arcology, there is a graveyard.

However, they are typically solely for those who have died in their arcology, whether they have lived their entire lives there or not.

For those who have died in battle, most choose to be buried beside their brothers and sisters, and when the Cradle came into being all those military graves were assembled into one. 

There was backlash and outcry, as a many in all nations harbored grudges, and wishes to keep their honored dead amongst themselves. However, the complaints fell silent when the honor given to those who fought for humanity against the Chimera was revealed in full. 

In a hollow space where an entire Arcology could reside, nearly at the center of the Cradle, there were fields upon fields of monuments in every direction. Each one was seemingly simple stone, impossibly stretching as tall as skyscrapers, and engraved with countless names of those who fought against the Chimera. 

Whether they were armed or not.

When one touches its base, a miracle occurs, and the dead are reconstructed and stood before the individual. Those who lost their families can look upon the faces of their loved ones again, right beside soldiers who salute to their comrades in respect. They can read of the how those they lost lived, of their heritage and ancestry, and return to their homes to carry the legacy of those who passed on into their hearts.

Sitting upon a bench, watching dozens interact with the base of a pillar after pillar to pay their respects to the dead, I am joined by Sheridan Creighton.

The Speaker of the Dead, who used his own funds and finances to create this immense shrine for all the souls who lost their way with no one to guide them.

“It was my pleasure.” The way he speaks and holds himself is different from humans. There is an aura of acceptance around his person, centered around a small smile upon his face, even as he took the seat beside a young woman who nearly became subsumed by gods. “The role taught me well. I’m sure I wouldn’t have lasted as long as I did without becoming the Speaker.”

“You wouldn’t have become the Speaker, if you aren’t who you are. Therefore, you deserve my thanks, and the thanks of all those who dwell within me.” They are faint now. I can barely hear them. Their intentions and thoughts are like fleeting clouds in the sky, which I desperately try to catch whilst trapped to earth. They are too much like me, and I am too much like them. “You protected the world from another calamity, whilst guiding it through another.”

The dead could’ve wreaked havoc upon the living, if nothing had been done to care for them. Countless lives were devoured, hundreds of thousands if bodies were left unburied or simply crushed, and so millions of souls flooded the underworld… or attempted to do so, only to be slowed, and forced to stay on the material plane.  

“If not for your efforts, the dead would’ve arisen, whether as living carcasses, ghosts, and other such things. With this, and all your other efforts, you’ve saved many lives and allowed many more to pass on peacefully.” He was a nondescript gentleman clad in a grey suit with a red tie. Everything about him was unassuming, from his features to his demeanor, and he meant to look as he did. In fact, he might be acting as he did for my sake alone. He wanted me to sit beside him in public and be without fear. He achieved his goal. “Do not downplay your achievements, Sheridan Creighton. You stepped in the place of gods, while ensuring the unity of our enter species against a ferocious threat. You are deserving, at the very least, of thanks.”

“You’re too kind, Lady Altringham.” 

When he bowed his head, at first, I felt nothing besides pleasure. He knew his place and accepted my thanks. Then, I forced myself to remember who was. I am not a god. I am a young woman, with a long lineage, speaking Sheridan Creighton, the head of CORE, and who orchestrated Humanity’s ascension into a Faction.

“Raise your head, please!” The words that I forced to leave my mouth did their duty. A blush of embarrassment that I should’ve had at my words and presumptuousness spread across my face. Not only that, but forcing myself to remember who and what I am, allowed me to look and admire the vast shrine to the dead in a new light. I felt not only appreciation, but awe as well. Something a god would never feel. And, the moment I stopped thinking like a god, I realized that was what Sheridan Creighton intended all along. “…thank you.”

“You were doing an admirable job, before I arrived. However, when you noticed me you raised your guard, and how better to do that than to become a god?” His meekness faded, and the small, meek smile on his face became gentler and more understanding. By straightening his shoulders and sitting straighter, his presence grew stronger. “You struggle impressively with an immense burden, Ms. Altringham. Do not hesitate to ask for help, especially from those you trust.”

The lecture was swift and concise, yet I felt no ire rise from my heart at his words. Pride didn’t rear its ugly visage, and in the back of my mind, I heard the whispers of approval of my teachers at the appearance of a mentor for their young charge. It was difficult to hear their words, as well as their praises for Sheridan Creighton, but knowing they were still there and not completely subsumed made me feel the tiniest bit lighter.

My teachers were not gone, and were just too far for me to hear for now.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” After a moment of consideration, and as those words lingered between us, I stood up and offered Sheridan Creighton my hand. It was improper of a lady to greet anyone whilst sitting down, after all. “You may already know who I am, but this is the first time we have made, correct? My name is Lorelei Altringham, and it is truly a pleasure to meet you.”

Of course, without question, he stood up as well and shook my hand. 

“Sheridan Creighton. The pleasure is mine.” 

…

We spoke of much as we sat in the massive memorial, but most of it pertained to his life, and how he contended with his responsibilities. His duty was to lead CORE, but while he did, on his own, he walked a path to ensure that he did not fall to the temptations that typically ravaged his family. The Creighton name was unknown to me, but I knew he spoke the truth when he spoke of them. Many of those with linages once noble fell into darkness, once their dreams were realized.

He stopped any chance of that occurring to him and his children by walking a path that would shatter those with weaker wills.

The Speaker of Dead works on behalf of those who have been cast out of society, whether they be the dead who could be forgotten, or those who have been ostracized due to circumstance. Individuals who have been cursed, whether they are humans or not, receive his help as they seek absolution, or to break their curse, cast upon them be vengeful spirits filled with hatred and pain. Though Sheridan Creighton spoke fondly of times when he led some to enlightenment, he spoke more of times when bare survival was the greatest of accomplishments, 

I did not know how long we spoke with one another, but I knew that our talks ended when he received a call on his phone from his wife.

He stood immediately after, to bid me farewell, but as soon as he noticed I had more questions he shook his head and gestured for me to follow him to the exit.

“It’s a short walk, but I’ll do my best to answer.” His gait was slow, but steady as we walked together. Though sometimes I felt my fellow humans were smaller than me somehow when walking beside them, the same was not the case for him. I felt comfortable walking beside him, just like any of the Preservers. “You’re wondering how I can have a family, while working, and being the Speaker of the Dead.”

“I do.”

“It’s simple… that is all I do. I work, I spend time with my family, and I do my duty, then I rest and repeat.” So, it was not merely just diligence and duty, but also abstinence from other worldly desires. Those were my thoughts, I did not utter them, but he shook his head and laughed lightly at them nonetheless. “No. There’s plenty I would like to do. Many things I want to experience. The VR headset and its time dilation feature is a blessing… but I would give that up in a heartbeat, if it took any time from those three things I valued the most.”

We were already near the exit. I did not know the next time we would meet, especially with the impending attack upon Lucifer, and the battle that will follow thereafter.

Thankfully, he stopped walking completely, as to provide me with the rest of the answer.

“Lorelei Altringham, you must find balance in your life. You can’t simply be a Concept, you must also be you, and seek to better yourself.” I must accept my duties, fulfill my personal desires, and still strive to be better. The immensity of the declaration, especially due to my station and calling, staggered me. I didn’t feel that I could do it. “That’s fine. You’re a young woman. You will learn, you will find yourself, and you will better yourself in every respect. You’re already a third of the way there. You have work that validates you, thus all you need is something to keep you happy, and something to elevate you to be the best you can be.”

Sheridan Creighton raised his hand to place it on my shoulder, before abruptly changing his decision to instead offer me his hand once again to shake in goodbye.

Was it yet another ploy, a subtle message to convey that he had faith in me and didn’t want to coddle me?

Most likely, but I didn’t care, as I reached out in turn and shook his hand.

He gave me much think about, but there were plenty of answers given to me which I could trust in and follow that I wouldn’t have gained from others. 

Or, rather, couldn’t have gained from others, because of my own weakness and self-imposed curse.

But he had plenty of experience dealing with such things, didn’t he?