Oh yeah. It's on. [b]Part 33 - The best intentions[/b] "Ahkrin!" Orpheus called out as he spotted his friend walking along the halls of the [i]March of Righteousness.[/i] The Sangheili turned his head to look at the Jiralhanae reluctantly, as if he wanted nothing more than to be alone. "What is it?" he asked tiredly, as he passed an inactive plasma grenade between his hands with boredom. The Jiralhanae slowed as he approached. "Zharn told me what you did," Orpheus began. Ahkrin rolled his eyes. "I care not for a slap on the wrist from you too," he replied coldly. "Then you shall not have one. But you have crushed his spirit, Ahkrin. He believes all his honour--" "Honour!" Ahkrin shouted scathingly, kicking the energy barrier which blanketed the large, opulent window. "Always with the honour. Every single day, honour this, honour that. When will he realise that honour means nothing? Honour did not save our father's life, or Sorran's life. Honour would not have spared his. I am done with his idiocy." "Don't be like that--" Orpheus tried to soothe, but Ahkrin waved his talk away. "In a few hours I will be gone anyway. Do not expect me to return," he told the Jiralhanae bitingly. Orpheus blinked, frowning. "Where are you going?" he asked with concern. Ahkrin scowled. "I've been summoned to High Charity. By the highest authority of the hierocracy." "What for?" Orpheus demanded suspiciously. Ahkrin shrugged nonchalantly. "The message did not say, I assume I shall learn when I get there." "But you hate the hierocracy," Orpheus protested. "I hate many things," Ahkrin retorted, smiling emptily. "Were I to avoid them all I would be running my entire life." "Ahkrin, Zharn needs you here now. He's started drinking--" "Then let him drink himself to oblivion," Ahkrin scorned. "It is as he said; I am brother of his no longer. Goodbye, Orpheus. Perhaps our paths will cross again one day." "Don't let it end like this," Orpheus struggled. "You and Zharn--" "Are friends no longer. Goodbye, Orpheus. May the sacred rings bless your path," was Ahkrin's reply, before he turned away coldly and skulked off. * * * "Feel free to look around," the philologist, surprisingly an elderly Sangheili rather than San 'Shyuum, told Sorran heartily. "Hem has assured me you will be careful." "Look with your eyes, Sorran," Hem reminded him sternly, before turning away to walk with the philologist as they caught up on the years since they had seen each other, leaving Sorran alone within the hallowed hall of the first temple. It was a marvel. An almost bastardised mixture of both ancient Sangheili architecture with scavenged Forerunner technology embedded violently into the walls. The rough rock with which the Sangheili had built the temple's walls were juxtaposed with the smooth, timeless curves of the Forerunners with their blue lights surging from within, grafted into the walls and floors. Primitive art was carved into the walls. Sorran approached the nearest piece, running his fingers through the grooves and dents with awe. Small stick figures with crudely drawn mandibles being the only indicator that these were Sangheili, stood next to taller, more graceful looking figures who could only be the Forerunners who had walked on Sangheilios. Small floating squares had to represent the holy warriors which guarded the Forerunners. [i]To have walked amongst gods... how amazing that must have been,[/i] Sorran wondered, a religious exaltation he had not felt in a very long time sweeping over him. [i]But why would such seemingly omni-benevolent beings create such destructive weapons as the 'sacred' rings?[/i] He pondered for the umpteenth this as he moved along the hall, examining the other carvings closely. One particularly interesting one showed a Forerunner stood over the corpse of a Dwaye'aa, one of the more particularly ferocious beasts upon Sangheilios. The Forerunner seemed to be stood in front of the Sangheili, as if it were protecting them. [i]Why did they leave?[/i] Sorran asked himself, walking along further. [i]... could they have fired Halo and perished in the blast?[/i] As soon as that thought struck him, he realised how ridiculous that sounded. [i]Of course not. Then we wouldn't be here, nor would the humans or any other races in the Covenant.[/i] He remembered what Restraint had told him that fateful night. That the humans were in fact those the Forerunners left behind. Sorran still had his doubts about that. Long had he studied the Forerunners... all indicators showed that their physiology was different to that of the humans; some clues they had left behind even hinted that some may have been over a dozen feet tall. Even the humans' daemons were at most eight feet tall. There was certainly a link between humanity and the Forerunners, one far stronger than the one the Sangheili shared with the divine beings. But Sorran did not think the humans were their descendents. Edging his way through the pillars, Sorran finally came to the greatest marvel the first temple held. Amidst all the carvings by early Sangheili, dwarfing them in both size and beauty. A piece of art wrought by the Forerunners themselves, majestic and as clear as it had been all those years ago. It showed a Forerunner garbed in their wondrous armour which the Covenant so sorely tried to emulate with its smooth curves and sapphire lights, shrouded in a light energy shield of the coolest purple. In his hand, a sword not unlike the one Sorran wore on his belt hung, radiating a soft cobalt beauty. He was stood in the unmistakable fields of Sangheilios, with chloroplasts in the grass blue to adapt to the sun of Helios. Stood around him were three Sangheili, naked save robes around their waists. Unmistakable in all their eyes was the look of pure adulation. The Forerunner depicted wore a helmet so it was impossible to see his facial expression, but the hand not holding the sword was resting fondly upon a Sangheili's shoulder. The Sangheili truly had loved their gods when they walked amongst them. Sorran could only imagine how devastating it must have been for them when the Forerunners left. "Beautiful, is it not?" a soft voice echoed from behind Sorran. He turned around, and found himself face to face with the temple's philologist. The elderly Sangheili shuffled towards him, and Sorran noted how the philologist had to use gravity manipulators to keep himself upright. "Stunning," Sorran agreed fully. "This was painted--" "Back at the dawn of Sangheili civilisation by one of our lords," the philologist enthused. "The Forerunners came here and found us as tribal beasts. When they left we had cities. Did you know that once Sangheili did not use Forerunner technology at all?" "Yes," Sorran smiled. "Until the San 'Shyuum came in their dreadnought. Angered by their transgression and heretical use of Forerunner relics, we struck. And they struck back far harder. The war waged on until eventually we found ourselves too using Forerunner technology to fight them. It was then we realised the whole reason for starting the war was pointless." "You're well learned," the philologist complimented. "I was once a scholar," Sorran said without thinking. The philologist blinked. "As well as an honour guard?" he asked with no little disbelief. Sorran suddenly realised how foolish the words he had just said had been. "Scholarship was a hobby of mine before I joined Restraint's guard," he lied hastily. "Now I find little time to study books and scrolls as I would wish to." "Ah," the philologist nodded, and Sorran let out a little sigh of relief. He had to be more careful with his words. Sorran continued to stare at the art for a few moments, before a question struck him. "Elder," he began tentatively. The philologist looked sideways at him. "Yes, child?" "If the Forerunners were to return now," Sorran mused. "Do you think they would be pleased with us? How we use their relics in every-day life, how we seek their sacred rings; how we war with the humans?" The philologist drew in a deep breath then, before finally shrugging. "I do not know," he confessed. "They must have left their technology here for a reason, and clues as to how to meet them on the journey. As for the war with the humans, I do not understand it. Why have we not accepted them into our holy Covenant yet?" Sorran knew exactly why. The humans were supposedly those the Forerunners left behind. Were the Covenant to discover this, there would be outrage. Half of the people belonging to the Covenant would want to worship them and the other half would try to destroy the Covenant infrastructure as repentance to the Forerunners. As much as he hated to admit it, the three hierarchs were doing the only thing they could do right now if they wished to keep the Covenant together and remain its leaders. Try to wipe out every single human and erase all evidence of their existence. But that couldn't continue forever. One day, there would come a time when revealing the secret Sorran held would not tear apart all he had ever known. Aloud, all Sorran could say was: "They are blasphemous, and misuse our lords' holy relics." "So we are to believe," the philologist thought over. "But then so did the mgalekgolo, and yet we eventually welcomed them to our collective. There is more to this war, Sorran." "Even if that is so, people like you and I shall never find out," Sorran joked, and that drew out a smile from the elderly Sangheili. "You would be surprised the things one with enough determination can do," he lectured. "Anyway, I have taken up too much of your time. Hem would like to see you, something about training needing to start." [i]Great,[/i] Sorran groaned inwardly. [i]No rest for the heretical.[/i] * * * [Edited on 07.29.2011 3:16 PM PDT]