Cruellest Month (working title)

There had been twelve of them in the beginning; twelve who sought, who sheltered, who protected. 

                                                                                              *

Julian’s path always seemed to lead him to the top of this hill and that was fine by him.  Birds welcomed the night with their melodies and the gentlest of breezes whistled through the trees below.  The top of the hill was exposed and he could see all around into the valleys.  He strode off the path, through the bright green grass that swayed around his ankles.  In his wake the sprightly blades bounced up from his tread as if he had never been there.  He felt the strength behind their rebound press underneath his feet, lifting him and it was difficult not to break into a run.

He found his favourite stone, a large boulder in the lee of the hilltop and he sat down upon it.  This was a good place to be.  He could sit for hours watching the sun set and had done so on many occasions.  He wasn’t sure how many.  The blackness of a bird flitted across the sky with a startled yet melodious cry and it was then that Julian saw the boy.

He stood by a clump of trees a little while down Julian’s hill with his hands in his pockets.  He looked barely out of puberty with a somewhat gaunt appearance and longish limbs. His features were round and pleasant, with a constellation of freckles and were topped with a helmet of pale hair. 
It had been so long since he last met anyone here, Julian was unsure what to do.  Could he ignore the young man, or was a greeting required?  It was unlikely the other had wandered here by accident and from the way he stared at Julian it was clear he meant to have business with him. 

         “Hello,” Julian called out in a flash of recollection, “Nice evening, isn’t it.”

         “Of course,” the boy replied and walked out from the shadow of the shrubbery.  “It couldn’t be anything else.”

More conversation felt required, but Julian was out of practice.  It had been such a long time.

         “It’s Julian, right?” The other climbed the slope towards him.

         “It is so,” said Julian, “Prey tell me who are you?”

The youngster laughed.  “My name is Dec, but I don’t expect you to recognise me.  Had you forgotten that you’re famous?”

Julian froze and racked his memory.  Yes, he had been famous once, but he was a bit vague as to what for.  He wished the young man would leave him alone.  His presence was unnerving; he shouldn’t be here.  This was Julian’s place.

         “You don’t mind me sitting down here, do you?” Dec asked as he plonked himself on the bouncy grass next to the boulder.  Deep inside Julian knew it would be wrong to speak the truth, but he couldn’t recall why.

Dec held his hand to his forehead and scanned the surrounding valley.  “This sure is a beautiful place you have here, Julian.”

Again Julian wondered if he should know the boy.  Dec... The name felt familiar, but from where or when he could not be certain.  It was short for something he guessed or it was one of those modern names.  No, he felt sure it was old, however incongruous that was with the young face.  He wanted to ask, but it seemed rude.

         “Are you somebody’s son?” he asked and instantly knew how foolish a question that was.  Everybody is somebody’s child.  He really was out of practice.

Dec laughed and there was a wicked twinkle in his eyes: “In a way, Julian, I’ve considered you to be my father figure.”

“Me?  Oh yes of course.”

Why had he said that?  The boy must be a child of one of the... Damn, he’d nearly had it then, but the memory submerged like a fish fleeing from the worm.  When he had spoken he had understood, but as the words faded into the evening air so did the knowledge.  Why couldn’t he remember?

         “You look sad, Julian,” Dec observed with a sympathetic frown that only enhanced his angelic features.  “Are you sad?”

He noticed that he was and he hadn’t even realised it.  Even when he had sat on the hill believing himself untroubled, a hidden sense of melancholy had been with him.  Why would he feel that amidst such beauty?

         “Why are you sad?”

         “Because I have to leave.”  The answer had come and gone before Julian could grasp its meaning.

         “You wish to remain here.” 

         “I have to go,” Julian said and although he wasn’t clear about where, he knew he had not meant down the hill.  He had not meant to one of the houses in the valley where lanterns were being lit against the approaching darkness.  A tear slid down his cheek and he did not know why.  Am I dying, he thought, is this death?

         “Why do you have to leave?” Dec asked as Julian wept and fell back against the stone.  He didn’t know why, couldn’t remember, but underneath his mind, in the dark place of his subconscious lurked the knowledge.

         “It was so arranged,” Julian sobbed, feeling as if for the first time the pressure on his chest, the shortness of breath and the spasms of grief rack his body.  Had he made some Devil’s pact long ago?

         “I could help you to stay,” Dec said.  He took his time in turning to Julian, who looked at him through watery eyes.  Through the prism of his tears the boy looked translucently white against the dark sky. 

         “I am bound to leave this world.  How could you help me?”

Dec’s pale pink lips widened to a smile.  “You have to ask me, Julian.  That’s the deal.”

         “Deal?”  Again the thought of unholy alliances entered his mind.  He had known many such tales although none sprang to his mind.  “What sort of deal must I make with you?”

         “I don’t make the deal,” Dec said, “It is simply the deal I have to adhere to.  Before I can help you, you have to ask me.”

         “And the price?  There is always a price; a catch.”  How did he know that?

For the first time since they’d met Dec seemed perplexed as if he wasn’t sure what the question meant.  Julian stood up, sensing he might have the upper hand.

         “If you ask me, I will help you,” Dec answered without answering, “That’s how it works.  If you ask me, you can stay here and you won’t have to leave.”

Something inside Julian warned him to wait, to once more try to recall those memories that were out of reach.  There were answers locked inside of him and if he could only catch them... Then what?  He would probably remember why he had to leave. He would recall the pact he had made to stay here for a definitive time and then to leave.  Why would he want to do that?  Julian looked up at the starry night sky and laughed.  This Dec offered to help him, no catch, and why would he not accept such an offer?

         “Very well,” he said, “Help me to stay on the hill, Dec.  Help me to stay here.”

                                                                                      *

There had been twelve of them in the beginning; twelve who sought, who sheltered, who protected.  When humanity had wandered into the sky above, their great mother too tired to care for them; they had built the twelve ships and named them after the moon’s rotations in a final reminder of their birthplace.  Whilst the crews slept their intelligent ships sped off, each in its own direction, searching for a new place for humans to live.  The ships protected their charges and kept them safe in their constructed dream worlds until a new home was found however long it would take. 

The ‘December’ was the last to leave, with Earth’s remaining great and good and of course its creator, Dr Julian Collins on board.  It looked upon the new planet from its orbit and knew its quest was over.  It had found a new world and fulfilled its purpose.  It looked at the oceans with its occasional storms and it looked at the mountains that were steep and it looked at the harsh winters and dry summers.  How could the humans prefer such a world over their peaceful sleep, it thought.  How could they favour a world where danger and death existed?  Perhaps it could ask if they wouldn’t prefer to stay...