Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [243]
As they continued to wander through the emptiness, their vessel sent out a constant distress signal, and Anton prayed for rescue. He couldn’t tell if they were close to any Ildiran splinter settlement. He didn’t want to end up lost forever, like his mother.
After Anton had finished sharing five particularly silly fables in a row from Aesop, Vao’sh allowed himself to be drawn into a discussion about the differences between pure fiction and the metaphorical parables humans used to teach lessons, and the historical truth as reported in the Saga of Seven Suns.
“We are not always as accurate as we like to believe,” Vao’sh said in a grave voice. “Long ago, an epidemic wiped out so many rememberers that their successors created enemies to fill out the Saga.”
“Created them? What are you talking about?”
Colors finally flushed across the rememberer’s face. “I am about to reveal a secret of which only the greatest of my kith are aware. After the firefever destroyed an entire generation of Ildiran storytellers, after so much of the Saga of Seven Suns was lost, we invented the Shana Rei from our imaginations. It was a patch to fill in the gaps, a driving force for new stories.”
This revelation went against everything Anton understood about the Ildiran historians. “You’re saying the Shana Rei are made-up bogeymen?”
“The Shana Rei do not exist. They have never existed. But since the peaceful Ildiran Empire faced no real threats, we had no real heroes. Our glorious history required heroes. Therefore, ancient rememberers invented a mythical antagonist. At first, the stories were part of an apocrypha, but the Mage-Imperator himself commanded that they be included as truth in future versions of the Saga. For thousands of years, Ildirans have believed without reservation. I am ashamed that I have contributed to unnecessary fears among our race. A historian should never fabricate history.”
Anton reassured him. “But a storyteller does what is necessary to influence his audience. Who is to say that the rememberers’ stories of the Shana Rei are not more inspirational than the truths that were lost? Your listeners were entertained by the great battles and they cheered for Ildiran heroes that fought in that imaginary war.” He shared a wry, sad smile. “Far worse things have been done in history.”
After Rememberer Vao’sh revealed his secret, it seemed as if a burden had been lifted from him. But alone and without the comfort of crowds, the Ildiran historian’s energy waned with each passing day. Once so enthusiastic and supportive of his fellow Ildirans when he told dramatic stories, the rememberer was unable to battle his own terror and loneliness.
Their ship flew onward, skirting the stars of the Horizon Cluster, wandering in the general direction of Ildira. The strength seemed to flow out of Vao’sh, and he dwindled visibly on the fourth and then fifth day after their escape from Maratha.
Anton did not sleep, knowing that if he didn’t keep up the drone of conversation, his friend might slip away. He was utterly exhausted, his imagination squeezed dry from telling every story he could think of, from classic epics to popular entertainment loops. He tried telling jokes, but the rememberer didn’t understand most of the punch lines. Finally, Vao’sh began to shudder uncontrollably and slipped deeper into his miserable isolation.
“I wish I had thism to share with you.” Anton clasped his companion’s arm. “That’s one thing humans don’t have to offer.”
After so long without sleep, forcing himself to stay alert for the sake of his friend, Anton could sustain his wakefulness no longer. Vao’sh had spoken not a word in more than six hours, gazing straight ahead in a vegetative state. Anton’s throat was sore from constant talking. Their supplies were minimal, and very little water remained. Unable to hold his eyes open, at last he dozed off. He had no idea how long he slept, but it was a healing