Our Legacy - Episode 17

The sky took the colour of peach as the sunrise appeared on the horizon. It was going to be another beautiful day in Paris. The positive energy the weather may have inflicted simply bounced off of Maha. She had spent the night in an alleyway in between a trashcan and a dumpster. There was blood on her black uniform. The bottom of her pants had ripped and turned grey from the dust. Her eyes slowly began to open as her body woke up. A dark brown leather jacket she had stolen from its late Demigod owner had kept her somewhat warm through the night. She undid the zip and brushed her hair away from her face.

While still resting on the ground, sitting up against the wall, she rested her chin on her knee as she had pulled it close to her chest. The brick wall in front of her had nothing of interest, yet she was lost between the blocks and the mortar binding them. Memories of love and joy did not escape her. Keyla was constantly in her mind. Half of her soul was taken from her. There was a sense of depression almost corroding her mind.

She could have stayed there all day looking at the wall and bring back memories to play in her head over and over but she had work to do. She had set upon a dangerous path that had left her hunted while becoming the hunter. Information was on the agenda today, not mourning. She had several new powers now but each came with new questions, about her new traits but also the origin of the God Particles. Where did they really come from? And where could she get the answers?

Before setting out towards the main street, Maha messed up her hair, making sure many of the strands blocked at least half of her face. Hands in her pocket, she began to ponder about where she could start. The skies were already turning into a light shade of blue. The shadow of war could always be seen in the distance, craters taking the places of buildings, fire and smoke leaving trails of death behind. Ever since she had joined the army she thought the blood on her hands would be of those who were human, not Demigods. This war was not a simple shade of black and white. There was so much more in between. The politics, the power vacuums, the hunger to control the lesser, it was all there. She studied the people she passed on the street. Everyone had a different thing to worry about but they all had something in common, the will to live.

Maha kept her head down. A wet newspaper had dried and glued itself to the pavement. She walked past it without thinking twice about it. Litter, she thought, but then saw another one with the same fate. This time she stopped, trying to read the smudged ink out of boredom.

"Fucking shit." she cursed, unable to make out the big words in the headlines. With a quick scan of the area, Maha rushed to the nearest kiosk. A middle-eastern man wearing a beige sweater stood behind the counter, happy to see a customer.

"Bonjour! Welcome!" he said gleefully. Maha suddenly sensed something off about him.

"You're human?" she asked.

"Oui, I am human."

"Why are you here? How are you here?"

"Ah, I have made a deal with the current power." he said in a French accent. "I am a simple merchant, so to speak, I have no quarrel here."

"General Arcadeus let you stay?" Maha continued to ask.

"I provide food, non? Does it matter if a half-god or a human stays behind the counter?"

"I suppose not. I just find it strange that amidst all this chaos, you seem to be quite happy where you are. Don't you receive threats?"

"Are you kidding? My wife has always told me I am a fragile man, said I have little balls. What do you want? I am pushing sixty soon yeah? But now, everyone says I have big balls. They say Mahmud has balls of steel, yeah? Whatever that means. But I like it." He smiled, confidently laying out his hands on the counter like a proud owner. Maha grinned, happy for the man. "What would you like? I sell freshly baked goods, home-made."

"I just need some information, is all. Where are your newspapers?" Mahmud pointed behind her, next to the door. A stand with four types of newspapers, each folded in their respective section. The stand had a worn-out metal banner on top with the local newspaper, Le Parisien, imprinted on it. "Know anyone who may have done a study or podcast on God Particles?"

"You don't watch television?"

"No." She simply replied.

"Right now, the biggest hit is a news-program called Discourse. They talk to Generals, scientists, professors, historians... They even had the Pope in one of their programs." Mahmud waved his finger at her, thinking she'd have a lot of interest in the one episode.

"Do these cover them?" she asked, holding the newspaper up.

"Only highlights. You would need a copy from the day after to get full details." Maha sighed, thinking she would never get that copy.

"I suppose libraries keep such things."

"Oh, you are in luck!" Mahmud exclaimed and began scuffling around under the counter.

Maha curiously looked over, trying to look at what he was doing. He suddenly popped back up with a smile on his face with a newspaper in his hands.

"I read all the newspapers that come in here but this one I kept. Was very interesting, you know?"

"Why do you have an interest in it?"

"I am a Muslim man. We live in an unknown world right now. Although the teachings of the Prophet Mohammed, praise be upon him, are all that we need in life, one must not live in ignorance of current affairs." Mahmud began to study her as he handed over the paper. "You are Muslim?"

"No. I don't really believe in much at the moment." Maha skimmed through the pages.

"Are you trying to find out what you are?" She looked up and felt the concern in his eyes.

"Don't you?" she asked back.

"My dear, I am but a simple soul. When I die I will become a speck of dust. I am nothing unless I pay my respects to Allah. But you and your kind... You do not belong. You are beyond the plan of the great one, I believe. I probably sin for speaking ill of the Great One's abilities but I must speak my honest and curious mind. Allah could not have allowed for such creations to walk this earth. Surely there is something else going on."

"You are a good man, Mahmud. I am simply trying to understand what we are and where our destiny may lie."

Maha found a picture of the presenter of Discourse, Garret Wes, with his hosts.

"That's the page there, yes." Mahmud pointed out. Maha quickly began to read to herself until she came to an interesting sentence.

"Professor Henny believes what we are looking at are the ashes of a dead God spread across our world. These ashes, commonly known to us as God Particles and also the remains of the Second Big Bang, are the reason behind the existence of the Demigod race. The professor argues that the Higgs Boson, the former God Particle known to the world of science, is unlike the God Particle we know today. The two may share traits but the Higgs Boson is believed to be the very first particle, mother of everything in existence, whereas the God Particles fused with the Demigods may be the source and power... that created the Higgs Boson in the first place."

Maha slowly looked up at Mahmud.

"Interesting read, non?" he commented, with a spark of energetic curiosity in his eye.

"Holy shit. How many people do you think read this?"

"Millions?" He went behind the glass shelf where he kept his bakeries and reached out towards the buns with chocolate chips in them.

"I need to find this Professor Henny."

"I believe he is in LA, my dear."

"Well, I need to get there!"

"Calm down, take this." He handed her a paper bag with two buns inside. "You don't have to pay. It is a gift from me."

"Oh... Thank you."

"Just promise me one thing. When you find out what it is you are looking for, you will come tell me?" He tried to give her the puppy-eyes-look.

"Mahmud... I don't think you'll like what I find out. If this professor is even remotely right... We have a bigger problem than just who gets the right to live and borderlines."

"I know." he sighed. "I read the article one hundred times. I am scared. That is why I want to know."

"I will try my best to come back to you. I should go. Thank you for your help."

She hurried off with the newspaper and paper bag in hand. Mahmud dreamily watched the door close behind her but was surprised when it suddenly reopened. Maha quickly gave back the newspaper.

"That was yours and thank you so much for the buns. Stay safe!"

"Au revour, little one." he waved as she left once more. "May the Prophet Muhammed guide you and Allah protect you."