Moon climbed the stairs leading to the palace after another exhausting special mission. None of the ones he had been on in the last year had failed in any way whatsoever. Not like the first. It always went according to plan and Moon was extremely selective on who join him on these missions.

   Although everything was going well Moon could not feel any pleasure in their successes. Each one was paid for in blood and Moon could not free himself from the image burned into his mind of the one survivor from that first mission. He often wondered what became of him. He never heard anything strategy wise for implementing new tactics to counter offensive maneuver he never knew the Sorians to use so he assumed the man, as he had wondered, hadn’t caved under interrogation. But did that mean he was dead or rotting away in a cell in some city somewhere.

          He knew he had initially been brought to Cync but he had heard rumors of plans to move him nine months ago.

    He nodded a greeting as he passed by a group of soldiers warming themselves by one of the braziers. They gave a chorus of greetings back and when he was far enough away for it not to be considered disrespectful continued their animated discussion.

  “Well, I heard he’s still here in the dungeons beneath the palace.”

  “Larry, you don’t know anything that animal was moved out of the city nine months ago! Everyone knows that!”

 “Yeah? And where’d you hear that? Steve?” Larry sniped.

 “So, what if I did?”

“Everyone knows he doesn’t get half of something right if it’s written right there before his eyes!”

   “Who cares where he is I heard it took them three months just to get his name.” Said a new voice.

  “Yeah, well then maybe he died.” Said another. Moon couldn’t believe the timing of this conversation. It certainly sounded like he was thinking, and they were talking about the same man.

    “I still say he’s beneath our feet down in them dungeons right this minute.” Larry said stubbornly. Moon looked down at the cement decorated with neon lit mosaics thoughtfully.

   Perhaps it was time he found out what happened to that soldier after all.

Thinking Moon tried to recall any useful information from the soldier’s discussion he had heard as he slowly made his way down to the dungeons wondering if he was wasting his time. More than likely the man was dead, and he will have made this trip for nothing.

  “Take me to the lone survivor.” Moon ordered the guard on duty.

  “Yes Sir!” The guard’s nervous shout echoed irritatingly off the walls and created an echo down the tunnels.

   “Lead on.” Moon ground out seeing that the man was unsure of what the next proper step was. Clearly, he was green.   

    Walking down dank smelly stone corridor Moon followed the guard through the maze of identical corridors. He had memorized the entire layout as a part of his studies of course. But the less people that knew that the better. As they approached the cell Moon became aware of a rancid pungent smell.

  Stopping in front of one of the cells Moon laid his eyes on a shabby excuse for a human being. He was huddled in one of the far corners tremors shaking his skinny frame. His eyes were like that of a wild predator caged roving this way and that never resting in one place.  His clothes were filthy, thin, and torn in many places. Through some of the tears in the shirt Moon could see his ribcage pressing outward from his skin.

 “Bring me the cell captain.” He ordered the guard who quickly scuttled away. The man seemed to take no notice of his presence.

  Before long striding footsteps down the corridor alerted him to the cell captain’s arrival. As she came to a stop in front of him, she saluted and bowed formally.

  “Sir.”

 “Captain.” Moon bowed his head slightly returning the greeting. “Tell me. How long has he been like this?” Moon gestured at the man’s behavior.

 “After about four months here I believe, sir. It is a bad reaction to one of the interrogation methods.”

 “And how long have you been trying starvation?”

 “We haven’t, sir. The reason he’s lost so much weight is due his own doing. He refuses to eat if the food is just left for him and he fights like a beast when the guards try to force him to eat, sir.”

 “I see.”

  “I believe he wishes for death, sir.”

 “What information have you gotten out of him?”

  “A name. Zeb. We don’t know if it’s a first name or a family name or if it’s his name at all.”

 “Nothing else?”

  “No sir.”

 “Very well. Inform all the guard in this cell block they are dismissed until I leave and leave me with the key to this cell. That will be all. Thank you.”

 “Right away.” Surrendering the key, she turned headed back down the corridor the rest of the guards going with her.

  Instead of speaking to Zeb right away or entering the cell he turned and walked to the wall turned and sat on the floor opposite of the cell door.

  Studying the man, he found it strange to be able to so easily identify the exact reason why the man was starving to death. It was clear to him that the soldier was filled with a deep hate, but it wasn’t directed outward. He hated himself.

  As Moon sat there staring at the man, he found himself using the time to process his own thoughts about things. He thought about the never-ending fighting and dying that this war produced. He thought of all his friends and family who had died because of it. Alfred, Yorick, and his mother were just a few. He thought also of his own hate caused by these. He thought of the strong twin willow trees that Yorick’s body had become and remembered the still vivid experience of reliving all their happiest memories together. He thought of Zeb’s slain lover and the tree that had replaced her body. The peaceful feeling of complete calm had been so similar and yet very different from the green flash of light at his friend’s death.

  Moon continued to wonder at the meaning of it all. Why were there so many more magical things returning all of a sudden when the land had been without them for such a long time. Because it wasn’t just the dead’s bodies that were transforming there were other things. He had found plants growing along the wall of the city with no nourishment that could sustain them, and he had begun to see flashing orbs of light that floated around that wilderness in the middle of the night of all different colors. He wondered at just how many more things were changing without his knowledge of them. Rubbing the bridge of his nose he released a sigh of frustration.

  Standing he took one last look at Zeb before walking back to the dungeon entrance. Returning the key to the cell captain he left orders saying he was to be notified if anything changed in the prisoner’s condition. He still couldn’t fathom the willpower to simply stop eating and slowly kill yourself.

    Thinking of so many different heavy things had put him in a particular mood and without reconsidering the impulse he took the stairs up into the palace and headed straight the top levels. Reaching the top floor, he headed to a special made observatory. In the middle of the otherwise unadorned room there stood a strong wisteria tree with silver for branches a bronze for flowers. Although it looked like metal the tree was completely real. It had been in this room since he was five years old. When his mother had been slain by a lone assassin in the very spot the tree stood.

   She had been alone at the time waiting for his father to join her as they often watched the stars together when quick and quiet a man in the shadows of the room came up behind her and slid a knife into her back piercing her heart. Moon had been told that the guards were alerted when a bright orange flash of light could be seen through the door. When they had arrived to her aid the tree was already in her place and the assassin was on his knees sobbing saying he was sorry over and over again. The disturbed man hadn’t resisted at all when they arrested him and gave a full account of what happened confessing his guilt. His father had had him executed.

  Now that he had experienced this phenomenon twice had wondered what the man had seen.

  Walking forward Moon sat on the small marble bench in front of the tree. It was the only other thing in the room.

“Hello Mom.”