Inspired by the Reedsy Prompt Show how an object’s meaning can change as a character changes.
This story is part of the Heart of Darkness book universe by Madeline and Chloe Walz. You can also read it on my Reedsy Prompts profile.
Hope for Salvation takes place in mid-November 2070, about five weeks after the end of Heart of Darkness book 1, Anathema. It contains major spoilers for Anathema and Son of Destruction.
Toiora stood in front of the mirror in his hospital room’s bathroom, only halfway dressed, the shower still running. He’d finished ten minutes ago but had left the water running—the sound was helping him think.
He stared at his reflection. “Who are you?”
Less than two months ago, Toiora had been crown prince of the Aneatangan Empire and commander of its army. He had led a battalion to find and punish a trespasser who’d come to Aneatanga and then fled to Earth. He’d done so willingly, believing the man was worthy of punishment.
Now, he thought the entire mission had been ridiculous, the lives lost on both sides of the resulting battle wasted. Who cared if someone from another planet had come to Aneatanga? Other planets allowed interplanetary visitors. The man hadn’t even done any damage, just landed his airship in a remote area and looked around for a while. Now, because of that—no, because of Toiora’s overreaction—his father was coming to Earth with more soldiers to finish the job Toiora had abandoned. If Aneatanga won this next battle, Earth was lost. Julia was lost. He couldn’t let that happen, not after she’d helped him rebuild his life. Not after how much he’d grown to love her.
His life had seemed so simple before: Aneatanga was right, everyone else was wrong, and all his actions were justified because of his military and political rank. It wasn’t until six weeks ago, when he’d heard music for the first time, that he’d realized just how backwards his worldview had been. The words of that first song played in his head again:
Lost in the darkness, with nowhere to turn.
Aching and lonely, afraid to get burned.
I’ve been hurt before, can’t do that again.
The father I thought was forever a friend.
Grew up with friends, but always alone.
Mother still there, but lacking a home.
Half of my life went missing that day;
Half of my heart was stolen away.
Through all of the twists, and all of the turns,
And all of the chaos that life always serves,
You’ll make it okay; you’ll be alright.
Help’s on the way; just reach for the light.
Life’s got you down; your plans are a mess.
Thought you knew all; turns out you know less.
Don’t know where to go; you just can’t go back.
Got soul searching to do, get your life back on track.
Through all of the twists, and all of the turns,
And all of the chaos that life always serves,
You’ll make it okay; you’ll be alright.
Help’s on the way; just reach for the light.
Lost in the darkness, with nowhere to turn.
Aching and lonely, afraid to get burned.
You’ve been hurt before, can’t do that again.
Maybe that person was never a friend.
You’ll make it okay; you’ll be alright.
Hope’s always there; just reach for the light.
That song… It had changed him somehow, woken him up to the darkness he’d embraced as a child. It had made him realize just how twisted the views were that he’d been taught were normal. When his father arrived a few days from now, believing Toiora was dead or captured, he’d instead find a traitor. Because Toiora was never going back to Aneatanga.
Toiora leaned closer to the mirror, and his pendant swung forward. He caught it in one hand and studied the stone. His younger brother, Tariao, had given him this stone sixteen years ago, when they were children. Tariao, still a toddler and uncorrupted by Aneatanga’s rotten culture, had meant it as a gift for the brother he’d not yet learned to hate. Toiora had accepted it, but had used it as proof of Tariao’s weakness and sentimentality—considered terrible qualities to Aneatangans. Perhaps that was why Tariao had grown to hate him so much that he’d attempted to kill him through another soldier three years ago. Tariao was still trying to escape the reputation Toiora had forced on him with this pendant.
As he had done so many times in the last six weeks, Toiora started to remove the pendant. He was responsible for what his brother had become. He didn’t deserve this gift.
Then, as he had done every time before, he stopped and let the pendant fall back against his chest. What had happened to him was supposed to be impossible. Aneatangans were supposed to be ruthless, hateful, incapable of love. He’d proven that notion false. He had chosen to live on Earth, was learning to make music, had fallen in love with a human—he no longer acted like an Aneatangan was expected to. Toiora had been saved, somehow. Maybe his brother could be saved, too.
Toiora looked down at the stone and grabbed it again, more gently this time. He remembered again when Tariao had given this to him: two years old, still learning to talk, still smiling despite the abuse from their parents. Tariao been so excited, proud of himself, offering a gift to his big brother. He’d probably given it to Toiora just because it looked interesting, like an arrowhead. Toiora smiled at the memory, only now able to appreciate that two-year-old, excitable Tariao had been rather cute.
That decided it—he would keep the pendant. His brother had been happy once. He’d been a good person. Toiora would keep wearing the pendant Tariao had given him to remind himself of that, to give himself hope that maybe, just maybe, his brother could be saved.
Someone knocked on the door to his hospital room. Toiora turned away from the mirror and shut off the water. “I’m almost finished!” he called in English.
“Okay, take your time,” Dr. Verling called back.
Toiora grabbed his shirt, pulling it on as he left the bathroom, and pulled his pendant out from underneath.
Before either he or Dr. Verling could say anything, Julia came into the room. “Oh, my god, your hair!” Julia exclaimed.
Only then did Toiora realize that his hair had dried enough to begin curling. He hated that his hair was curly—Aneatangans saw curly hair as childish. It had made it difficult for him to earn respect, so he’d begun gelling it straight when he was twelve.
He hadn’t told Julia yet that he had curly hair, though he’d told her just about everything else. He knew he should’ve—if she still loved him after knowing all the things he’d done before, why would she care what his hair looked like? But maybe she would. Maybe that was why she’d reacted to it just now. Maybe she didn’t like it.
“I know,” he said with a grimace. “This is why I keep it gelled.”
“I love it,” she said, standing on her toes to ruffle his hair. Toiora ducked away from her hand, nerves evaporating so fast he actually laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that.
A few minutes later, after completing his discharge papers, Toiora and Julia left the hospital side by side. He’d gelled his hair straight before they left, despite Julia’s protests. Just because she liked it curly didn’t mean everyone would.
Cautiously, Toiora reached down and took Julia’s hand, twining their fingers together like he’d seen couples do in the movies she’d shown him. Was this feeling really natural? Was love supposed to be this strong, almost overwhelming? Six weeks ago, he would have thought this kind of life was impossible. Now, he couldn’t imagine wanting to live any other way.
With his free hand, Toiora touched his pendant. He would try to save his brother. And if Tariao rebuffed him, he’d keep wearing the pendant anyway. He had to keep hoping, even if what he hoped for would always be just a memory.
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