[h3]THE PLANET OA[/h3][sup][color=lime]20 YEARS EARLIER[/color][/sup] Say what you will about their cuisine, H'lven brandy was not for the faint of heart. The tall, lanky form of the pink-hued Slyggian moved over to the cupboard. Four arms made the species impressive bartenders, as Salaak decanted an aged H'lven liquor into two tumblers over a few cubes of ice. Then, picking up the pair of glasses, made his way over to where an Ungaran house guest was staring out the window. "Wupi for your thoughts," the Slyggian offered, extending the brandy out toward the violet-hued man. Taking a seat on the loveseat next to the stargazing Green Lantern, one of the Slyggian's hands ghosted across the space between the pair until his hand laid across Abin Sur's. Even as the Ungaran Lantern turned and accepted the offered brandy with the one hand, the fingers of his other interlocked with Salaak's three. They'd just enjoyed a drink in silence for a moment. At the time, it had seemed so brief. Reflecting back on it now, Salaak felt as though it had been much longer. A moment he remembered. Just sitting there, without a world to save. Without a crisis. Without anything else, save each other. [color=lime]"If something happens out there..."[/color] Abin said, breaching the quiet that had settled over the room. As the two looked at one another, the Ungaran continued. [color=lime]"...something [i]to me[/i] that is, promise you'll take me back to Ungara."[/color] For his part, Salaak wasn't certain that he understand the request. Was this a jest? Smiling, the Slyggian asked, "What brought this on?" It was then that he realized that Abin Sur was serious. [color=lime]"You wouldn't understand,"[/color] the man uttered softly, his hand tightening around Salaak's even as he looked down. [color=lime]"...just, say that you'll..."[/color] A flash of emerald light sparked from Salaak's ring, as a green construct of a H'lven suddenly appeared in mid-air. "This is Green Lantern 1814.2 requesting assistance." The Slyggian swirled the brandy around in the glass, before finally setting it down on the table and giving a sigh. Turning, the four-armed alien leaned his oblong head up against the Ungaran for a moment before he said, "I have to go." [hr][hr][center][h1][color=lime]G R E E N L A N T E R N[/color][/h1][b]"Orphan's Lament" [ Part IV ] [ [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lP5Ivhq2wF4]Afterlife[/url] ][/b][/center][hr][hr] The Slyggian sat on the ground, staring up at the night's sky. Before him, the fire was burning brilliantly. A pyre constructed to hold the body of the human child as the flames reclaimed the body and released the spirit back to the beyond. To be honest, Salaak had no idea what the human beliefs or funerary practices were. In a time before Slyggians had arrived at the Atomic Age, they had cast off their superstitions. Religion held no meaning for his people, yet the practice of burning their dead in order to [i]release their memory[/i] continued. It wasn't superstition, it was just... Slyggian. As he watched the embers and smoke ascending, Salaak's eyes were drawn upward to the stars and he thought about a time on Oa that would never come again. A tale of two people living their lives in between one crisis and the next. The prime of their life, spent chasing drug czars, or the slave traders, or the arms dealers who tried to live as gods of war among the criminal underworld. The jade ring was played between the fingers of two of his hands. Outwardly, it was unremarkable. Visibly indistinct from the one on his own finger. Yet, he knew it was different. He knew it was unique. He knew whose ring it was. The band was imprinted with their hopes. Their dreams. ...and their love. Getting up, the Slyggian moved closer to the funerary pyre and dropped to his knees. He'd never prayed before. He didn't even know who he was praying to. He only knew that none of this had unfolded as any of them had wanted. He felt the weight of so many mistakes and wondered how people attained any sense of forgiveness late in life. Everything he had worked to achieve seemed undone by everything he'd done in effort to achieve it. So many friends now gone. B'Shi. Tomar-Re. Ch'p. Abin Sur. [center][img]http://baku-panda.org/images/OU_gldivider.png[/img][/center] The Slyggian had just sat there for hours. He had fallen asleep as the pyre had died down. The remains of Green Lantern Kai-ro were now just bits of blackened bone, soot, and ash. Floating silently over the still form of the distraught Slyggian, Ganthet voyaged to the dying fire with a simple wooden box in one hand. As he opened the lid, the bits and pieces that yet remained began to gather themselves in the air. [color=lightblue]"A child,"[/color] the exiled Guardian uttered, as he watched the ashes begin to gather in the small box. Turning, the Guardian turned his attention toward where the Slyggian lay. The ring that Salaak was clutching to his breast slid out from under his hands, to float over where Ganthet was closing the lid on Kai-ro's funerary urn. The ring landed atop the lid, the singular object of the Guardian's tranquil fury. [color=lightblue]"Why, damn you?"[/color] Levitating up into the air, the jade ring seemed to come apart into a diffusion of emerald light. Within the fragmentary pieces of the device, he saw a small child. Innocent, wide-eyed, imaginative. [color=lime]"In brightest day..."[/color] He saw an Ungaran warrior. Brave and bold. [color=lime]"In darkest night..."[/color] Wait. The child and the Ungaran Green Lantern. The ring didn't seem to recognize them as being different people..? What kind of error in logic had... No. Not an error. Why did a human have an [b]Ungaran[/b] soul? Tapping his fingers atop the funerary urn, the Guardian found himself even more disturbed by the inner workings of this ring. [color=lightblue]"You've a defective matrix but that doesn't expla..."[/color] [center][img]http://baku-panda.org/images/OU_scar.png[/img][/center] The funerary urn fell from out of his grasp. Her face. Her [i]touch[/i]. She had done it. She had reversed the power cycle. Kai-ro hadn't recharged his ring at the Central Battery, he'd depleted it. It was something [i]only[/i] one of the Guardians would even know was possible. And there were only a [b]few[/b] capable of that level of sabotage. His feet hit the ground, as Ganthet dropped to his hands and knees. His chest was tight. Tears streamed down his face, falling down to the earth where they mingled with the child's ashes. Was [i]this[/i] what the Guardians of the Universe had reduced themselves to? Reaching up a hand, the man pulled his long hair from out of his eyes as he raised his head up. Reaching down, he began to mix his tears into the ash and dirt until a muddy paste began to form. A spectrum of light surrounded the white-haired sage, as his hand plunged down into the muck. And from that ash and tears, he drew out a book. [center][img]http://baku-panda.org/bounce/book_of_black.png[/img][/center]