The forest chirped and croaked lively. Tucken could hear the flutter of wings and wind rustling the trees gently. The sun flickered through the moving branches across Tucken’s eyelids waking him from a restless slumber. “Nessa!” He heard a squeal so familiar to him. The cry of a child to a mother. “Nessa!” It grew louder.
“Yes Savry, quit your yelling!” An older women’s voice called out “By Lord Rowvick, you’ll wake the corpse with that kinda squawking!”
“He’s not dead, Nes.” Said another women’s voice walking closer to him. “Sav, this better not be about your brother again.”
“It’s not! Can't you hear the sleeper's heart is beating faster?” the younger girl's voice questioned. Before anyone could answer Tucken jumped to his feet in a flight of fear, yet his legs seemed to not be up for it as one gave out as soon as his foot touched the leaf and twig ridden ground. His knee slammed to the ground as he tried to put on a Soren-like intimidating face. The one with purple eyes came closer to the struggling thin man as he tried to pick himself up, falling backwards into the bark of a dying tree.
“Keep your hands away from me!” He said putting on his most gravely and serious voice as Kei moved closer to him with a bowl of a slimy green concoction in hand. Nessa and Sav held embers of purple and red twirling along their fingertips ready to fire from them bolts of energy toward lanky, weak man.
“Stop this! You are sick, do you remember? Tucken right?” Kei asked with irritation swirling every word. “You were stabbed by creature.”
“Shi’vor.” The older women interjected.
“A powerful creature. Your friend Soren, he saved you, told me to take care of you until he catches up.” Tucken took the concoction that stuck to the rim of the bowl like glue and looked up at her with eyes that felt to Kei as if they began to gain that emptiness, she saw in the rebels some days ago.
“Where is he?” He asked, tipping the bowl and watching the dough-like goo barely move to the rim.
“On his way.” She answered as she watched the whistleblower’s empty eyes follow the stillness of her concoction as if it was just something to rest his eyes on while he swam through his own thoughts.
“Where is the folder?” His head snapped up from the concoction with a look in his eye as if the innocent man she saw in Dunton came back for a moment.
“What folder?” she asked curiously.
“The folder! Folder twenty-three!” He tried to stand up from the tree, yet the Rels watched as he plummeted back to the ground as a shock of pain came over his leg. “Give me that god damn folder!” He wailed from the ground. “It took everything from me!” He said as she watched the tears that had been held back for days rinse his dirtied face. “I need that folder!”
“Savry go look in the motor cart.” Nessa said as Kei stared down at the pitiful man from the city fall apart in front of her. She didn’t know how to react. A human, the beast that she witnessed torture and use as cattle was weeping...to her of all people. She didn't like it. She watched slavers weep for their lives, but this man, this beast called human wept for a different reason. Something in the air around him tasted different. She reached a handout to him and touched the back of his neck with a shimmering glow of purple ember.
She felt every emotion, every painful thought that rushed through his head like lightning barraging the same memories over and over again.
Death, my fault, death, my fault, death, my fault.
It was enough to destroy anyone.
I’m lost, I'm lost, I'm lost.
The grief and despair circling, surrounding one singular purpose now.
It's all wrong, the papers will make it right, it's all wrong, the papers will make it right, it's all wrong, the papers will make it right.
She knew this grief well, how could she not? The plantation, the deaths, the torture she had been through, and the actions she took in the aftermath. She couldn't bear to take on another's pain. She ripped her hand away quickly and took a step back from the thin man filled with despair.
“You need to heal that leg, drink from the bowl, Savry will find your folder.” She turned her back to the grief stricken Tucken and walked off toward the far side of camp behind a fence of bushes and trees.
She had set up a private area for herself behind the the wall of plant life. She didn’t sleep well with the others. Memories tended to flood back to her in the darkness of the late night. Nessa would sometimes come to comfort her. Even with the trees and shrubbery between them, she still seemed to wake Savry from her sleep.
Kei played on her canvas sleeping bag and stabbed her long machete into the dirt. She took a sharpening stone from a bag beside her and began sharpening it. It was already sharp as a Mueger’s claw, but Kei found it therapeutic, and she needed this moment to think. It had been five days since Dunton. For two of them they spent flying down the Crowned Road giving them distance from the beast that drove a shadowy tentacle through Tucken’s leg. By day three They were out of gas and in need of a place to rest and a place for Soren to catch up to.
She heard light and carefully made steps approach her resting spot. They stopped short as if the owner of the feet believed they were on the other side of a bedroom door. “What is it Nessa?” Kei asked and Nessa took it as a sign of welcome, walking in front of Kei and looking down at the silver haired women as she continued to sharpen her blade.
“The man needs someone.” She stated calmly, but with layers of demand Kei easily could pick up. Nessa had made such statements before. Like when they first began this journey and Lanzo fell behind out from being too weak to stand as plantation guards and a whole towns worth of Arkin chased them for miles to get the boy and Savry back. Kei almost left him. She thought that saving two was better, hopefully he’d survive long enough for her to free him again. Yet Nessa stopped and spoke the same words. It was enough for Kei to go back and carry the boy for the last couple of miles.
“And there will be as soon as this Soren guy shows up.” She answered bluntly without even a glance to the older woman.
“Kei, what if he doesn’t? He’s falling to pieces out there. He needs someone to speak to him, feel him.”
“If you are so worried, then go do it, you don’t need my permission.” Kei snipped back with a glare.
“He needs you.”
“He’s gone quiet out there. Started staring off into the trees.” Nessa said looking back toward the camp. From behind Nessa the small teenage rel with auburn hair appeared holding a folder with the symbol of the Arkins intricately placed. “This little thing is what all the fuss was about?” Nessa said with astonishment pressing on every word. Kei reached out a hand to the girl and flipped through the pages. What she saw inside horrified her. Kroy was to be attacked, war would break out across the continent and her people, these three, would be at the center of it. The deal Soren made; get him through the wilds, and he will protect them from the Arkins, it was a ruse. The charming rebel tricked her. Her people would be at ground zero when the war broke out. Dead or enslaved. She stood up from her resting area and marched toward the pencil pusher.
He sat on the edge of camp looking out across the vast green wilderness. He could hear the animals creep past and sometimes even a buggy or a pair riding pelgrifs. He could tell they were close to a road, yet deep enough to speak openly without drawing attention. Tucken felt calm. That terrified him. Where were the papers? Where is Soren? Can Kei be trusted? Who are these people? Nothing but questions swirled through his neurons. He was lost in an abyss of questions with no answer in sight, and he felt the need to prepare for anything. Until his focus was taken by a smack of paper to the head.
He turned to see Kei and the others beside her like a judgment was about to be ruled. In her hand was the folder, his folder. He felt his heart begin to pump. She could see his eyes widen at the sight and tucked it behind her.
“Why did you not tell us about the attack?” She demanded leaning closer in to the broken man.
“I...need those. Please they are not safe to have out in the open like this, they are lethal, Kei.” He said with a pitiful tone.
“Why didn't you tell me!” She commanded as she bared her teeth. “Why did I not know I was sending these people to their death!”
“How should I know!” The weak Tucken said standing on his wounded leg and puffing out his chest. This wasn't at all the Tucken she had met before. The timid man afraid of the flame. He was engulfed in it now. Living inside of the fire of suffering and anguish. “I wasnt the one to ask you to come! You could have left!”
“I made a promise to Soren-”
“To save me, I know!” He interjected as he moved closer. “Look how that turned out, hiding in the woods, with nowhere to go taking care of some idiot from the city, a human no less!” It went quiet, they all waited on bated breath for what the man who looked as if he was close to falling over would say next. “I lost everything, and have nowhere to go, I have murdered with words at least a hundred men, women and children, I have watched good people die, I am lost. Just as you are. I could die tomorrow, just like you. You took a bad deal, figured out with Soren when he gets here.”
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Soren watched as the last duffel Bag of weapons and ammunition was piled into the boot of the dynasphere. “Why don’t we head out together? We are going the same direction, right? Just gotta pick up the others on the way!”
“I’m going west first toward Goldresh. I’ve got a partner out there to drop these off with whose got a nice deal with a naval officer in Sarin Seal, these boys won’t be missing war for too long!” Ginn said with a nasty smile at the thought as he glided a finger across the bag fondly.
“it's good to see saving my life hasn’t changed you, Locke.” Soren said with a grin
“Saving you was best for business, all there is too it.” Ginn Locke muttered as he kicked the last duffel bag in as tight as he could and shut the compartment. He took a sharp look up and gave an aggressive point toward the wounded rebel. “Don't you do that to me again, either. One save is for business, another and you are a liability.”
“I can work with that.” Soren answered.
Ginn Locke hopped onto the Dynasphere and put on the driving glasses that hung from the rearview mirror. He Revved the engine to life. The engine roared and then came to a whistle as the steam jettisoned from the exhausts. “You better make sure I see you in Nobay. I’ll be waiting only a day. You only have a couple more days left.” he said sternly.
“We’ll be there. Long as your info is good, I'll find them.” Soren tapped the dynasphere away and watched as Ginn raced off down the dirt road toward the Crowned Road.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
His engine whistling could be heard far from the fort and two men upon a far-off hill could hear its whistle as they put a knife to the throat of the old forts master.
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“High General Himmer, you kneel at the blade of penance for the crime of failing to protect the old Fort Maligg. You have failed in your duty, to your fellow ranking officers, to your men, and to the beloved Tiso Reignly.” the young Captain spoke with a toxic tongue of malice. “May the dead guide you-”
“Wait!” The old Commander spoke up. He kept his head turned away, not wishing to see another he called friend bled out in front of him. His mind was with the rebel he called Sullus. He tried to wave the thought of it being him out of his mind but couldn’t. He was more ragged, more unkempt than Sullus ever was, but if it was...If it was that lost child, he once knew...Then suddenly he heard Luko start and the memories snapped away. “The hell is this? You must let him speak his last rights!” Luko’s eyes didn’t look the same as they once did. What once was pride and honor now looked to be spite and hatred.
“Speak, dog.” he said shoving Himmer’s head away from his blade.
Himmer looked shakily at Hein, he wiped his face clean of the drool and snot that raced down his lips and dripped onto his soot coated collar. “Aldous...I am sorry for Sullus...What we did to him-”
“Thats enough, already.” Otto said with annoyance gliding along every word and slipped the tip of his dagger into his throat before prying it open like a tin can.
In an instant, the face of the former High General fell to the ground emotionless and covered in dirt, soot and blood. Beside him the captain tossed his knife and began to walk away. “The Penance, Luko!” Aldous called out.
“Speak it, if you wish. A leader who sobs like that deserves no mercy in my eyes.”
“May the dead guide you through the shade and take you in as one. May the guilt you bear be cleansed with this act. May the living never forget your name. High General Orin Himmer.” The crowd of Hein and Luko’s soldiers repeated the name in unison as Hein walked away from the crowd holding his turning stomach from letting loose. As he retreated away behind a boulder poking out from the side of the hill he crumpled and let the bile in his stomach fall from his mouth like a river of despair and half acidic bread and meat. Tears fell like rain from him and his body shaked.
“Weren't you one of the best in your day?” Said the voice of the captain behind him. “They called you a hero, raised a statue in your honor in Falmis. What happened? Now you are wasting away and babysat by a man half your age.”
“You watch your tongue you rodent!” Hein said spitting his last meal up and shakily turning to the young captain. “I still got fight in me, I still got fists to swing with, you pompous prick!”
“All this, over a couple of failed geezers. Do you think you’ll be the next one to go?” Aldous Hein took an embarrassing swing toward Luko. With a quick step back and a foot placed in the right spot Luko tripped the Commander and watched him fall onto the dirt.
“You fucking bastard! I'll fucking kill you. I swear it!” Hein growled into the dirt. He wiped his tears in the grass and turned to Luko above him.
“This is your final warning, you sorry excuse for a war hero. Wake up and smell the fucking fresh air. Get it together and stop feeling sorry for yourself. Your friends died, your son or whoever died, your wife died, guess what? You aren't! So, get your shit together and march on!” He put a handout to Hein. There was a moment where Aldous questioned if he should take the hand or smack it away. He landed on taking the hand with a mutter of harsh words that Luko easily disregarded.
“How many men do we have left?” Hein said trying to move past the moment.
“About twenty-five, A small platoon left.” Hein looked around the hill at the men, he could tell there was much more then twenty-five men standing. Some of the men cleaned and wrapped the wounds of the others and crafted splints and crouches. Luko deciphered Hein’s darting eyes and gave his explanation quickly. “Twenty-five able bodied men. Most of these men are pencil pushers now, a liability for us.”
“So we are heading back to Huxwell then, we’ll pick up the trail after we-”
“No, Aldous! No. That’s a waste of precious time. They will make their own way home.” The viper-like Captain said with disdain spitting through his teeth. Commander Hein felt his stomach knot every which way and then dropped like a boulder off the hill. “They’ll head home, if they can even make it and we will follow that noise there!” He said as another engine whistled in the distance. “Sounds like its heading north.” Hein’s mind became clear for a moment. Two engines, two survivors. They watched as many ran from the fires and bullet storms of Maligg, but hadn't heard anything in hours. No one that looked like Sullus left. Yet now there were two engines, two survivors.
“let's let the wounded know they are heading home and round up the others to follow.”
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The night was quiet in the camp, the rels slept soundly under the cloudy sky. Savry and Lanzo were nestled up for warmth and safety from the new threat they saw in the human. Nessa slept close to them across from the smoldering fire. Kei kept herself awake, keeping a watchful eye for the camp. Neither she nor Nessa believed Tucken to be any threat, but there were more threats out there than just a shaken Bowdlerizer. She sat at the campfire watching the embers slowly cool. She could see the figure of the tall thin man in the distance looking out into the forest as if he was searching for something, hoping something. She looked back down to her blade as she slid the whetstone across it. It was sharp enough, but she couldn't help but find something to do in the silence.
“What if he doesn't show?” She said, keeping her eyes on the blade. She heard man turn as leaves and twigs cracked beneath his boots.
“Then I'll keep going, find a way to Kroy, myself.” He said moving out from the shadows and entering the small flickering last light of the still burning embers inside the campfire. Kei could see the determination in his distant eyes. He wasn’t lying, he wasn’t going to stop. Kei laughed to herself as she slid the whetstone one last time and put her foot up on the rocks surrounding the campfire as she gave him a bewildered look. His gave her a curious expression. As if her laugh was a slap to his pain.
“Its just that, the last time I saw you awake, you were a scared, sheltered city boy, holding tight to Soren’s waist.”
“And now?”
She thought for a moment before looking up toward the expressionless tall figure in front of her. “Not much has changed I suppose. Just the look in your eyes.” He scoffed at her before taking a seat next to her at the edge of the campfire. “Tragedy burns us, you know?” She said as she looked into the reflection flickering against her blade. “It burns our shell away like the fire in the sky did to our ancestors. Makes us something new, something unrecognizable to who we once were. Yet somehow people still see the shadow of our old self etched onto us like an old scar.” She took a gentle look at him. He looked back in quiet thought. She could see his black hair had grown unkempt and oily and a faint stubble had begun to appear on his cheeks and above his lips. His eyes, though he had listened to every word she had said, drifted off as if he heard whispers coming from the distance “Your eyes are the only thing that have changed since we last met.” He seemed taken back at the thought and broke his gaze away from hers, she scoffed to herself and examined her blade thoroughly. “Nessa would have you think it's a weakness to be burned by tragedy. That it poisons you from reality.” She sheathed her machete and dusted off her whetstone before standing up from campfire. “I think it sharpens the mind. You can't be a man from the city with what you need to do, nor can you cling onto Soren’s boot for survival. You have to be focused, have a target.”
“What’s yours?” He asked, tossing bark into the cooling embers and watching as a small stream of smoke emerged from splinters of wood.
“Them.” She answered looking over the sleeping camp. “My focus is getting them to safety. No matter the cost.”
“And what after?” Silence burned through the sleeping camp. He waited for a response and the purple eyed woman waited for her mind to find an answer. She snickered and grew a large grin before pointing her machete in his direction and bouncing it up and down, up and down. “You know, really you are a lucky one, Furnoon.” She said.
“How’s that?” Tucken said turning from her, with annoyance.
“I felt your pain when I touched you. Rel call it a Sjal Abatoss. Special skill. The pain you feel, the sorrow. I’ve seen it before. When a Rel is ripped away from their family, or watch their love get beaten to death over taking an extra loaf. I’ve seen it break people. It almost broke me. You’re doing alright for a lagricai.”
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The visions from Soren’s slumber faded fast from his brain, as if blown away from the wind that swept through his hair as he flew down the Crowned Road searching for his lost companion. The weasel-like savior of his was good on his word and told him to look around the small village of Hollow Hill. It wasn't too far north, but made sense as it put them a good distance away from the tragedy at Dunton, though it had been days since they last saw each other. If it were Soren in such a situation, he would have hurried off towards Nobay by now, but it wasn't him, it was the injured Huxwellian bowdlerizer and a flock of Rel. Even if they left him, they wouldn't get far, yet nor would he in his state. He tried to block the worst out of his head.
A couple more hours up the road, half a day's trip at his speed. He wished he could remember his dying dream. A butterfly, a roaring sense of doom, and three riddles. Thats all he remembered, all that stayed with him as he left Maligg behind...The scratching...He remembered the scratching in the air, whatever the being was that could carve into nothingness itself as if it was paper and mark it with symbols Soren couldn't even remake if he tried.
He pushed the thought of it all from his head and road on. He had his group to find. The roar of the Dynasphere turned to a simple sputter and quickly Soren looked for somewhere to pull off. He brought the mono-wheeled motor to a halt and noticed an odd rusted, metallic building in the clearing below the steep hill at the side of the road. It was a common sight to see ruins along the Crowned Road, yet this one caught his eye. What caught his eye more though was the buggy parked a couple yards away from it. Food, gas, ammo. Soren needed the gas, but he could use whatever else the buggy had for him.
He slid down the dirt mound and into the clearing. The grass was overgrown, and remnants of Styrofoam and plastic littered the ground. Memories from hundreds of years ago still encircled the building, like a ritual. Soren looked along dusty and coarse building, with sharp rusted shards poking out and brittle enough to fall with the touch of a feather. An official symbol marked the building. Faded and the paint chipped away. Three triangles pointed to each other along with a military-like insignia beside it, seeming to be a bird holding a circle with another circle inside of it. Above the decaying images were words in bold lettering “CC EMR OPERATION: WILDFIRE S-02 RAGNAROK” The click of a pulled hammer sounded behind him just as the cold touch of a barrel jabbed the back of his head. He didn’t have a moment to think about the words.
“To think...I was about to lay down my life were our ancestors rose from the ground, when suddenly you of all people come along.” The voice was familiar, like an itch from the past. The rebel smiled and let out a snicker as he put his hands to the air. He felt like the world had just played the best joke on him.
“I hope you have clothes on behind me, Krebs.” He said before the barrel dug into his skull more.
“Do you understand what you did to me? How you ruined me?”
“Good.” Soren growled. “You wanna keep talking or are you gonna decide which of us to use that bullet on?” Without hesitation, Soren turned to face the barrel and the man who held its grip. Krebs was disheveled and in rags, it was obvious he had been on the run, most likely from the people he once called comrades. “Whatever happened to a soldier dying to Penance?”
“Fuck Soldier’s Penance and fuck you!” He said as his hand shook the pistol swaying between Soren’s eyes. “I don’t deserve a death like that, though, do I? To soldiers that couldn’t follow my orders, to a town that fell to your fucking traitors! I was a man with honor. Now I am a man who ran away from his home, his nation...His duty...” His weapon quivered in his hand as if his arm became weak at the thought. Soren took the opportunity to smack the gun from his hand and watched as it flew into the tall grass that surrounded them. He gripped the old Colonel by the throat and noticed that the man did not squirm, nor did he fight back. No, the old Colonel of Falmis almost seemed relieved. Soren had seen this look in someone's eyes before. He had seen it too many times to count. At one time, he had that look himself. With a push to the ground, he released the sad Colonel. “What else do you want from me?” He groaned into the ground, defeated and tired.
“Nothing.” Soren said looking over to the buggy. “I only came looking for gas.” The defeated old man laughed into the grass as if the revelation cracked something more in his brain.
“I came, to die on my own terms, away from disobedient warriors and child rulers. Only to lay below the one who took it all from me.” He scoffed again and grinned big as he stared into his destroyer's eyes. “And why is he here?” He spat on the rebel’s boots. “Gas...” He looked off to the bunker and smiled, it was as if he could see something inside, something beautiful and something that alleviated his pain. “Nothing changed when we came out of that bunker did it? No matter how hard they tried to make us all change.” A pained expression came over him and he took to his feet and picked the pistol up from the grass before walking to the entrance of the old bunker “I wonder how perfect Central City really was, how much did we change?” He looked over his shoulder toward the rugged rebel he despised so much with a melancholy look. “Mr.Malcoy.” He said calmly and with a hint of respect in his voice. “I wish to end my life here. On my own terms, under no banner and without enemies. The land pushed us underground, we spat in its face and came back to the surface anyways...The tanks full.” The shot echoed through the metallic walls of the structure along with a flash of gunpowder against the old soldier's head. It was quick and startled Soren as he watched the man, he outwit many times during his time in Falmis, fall to the hard concrete at the threshold of the bunker. Colonel Krebs wanted peace with his ancestors, now he could rest among them.
The man was wrong, in Soren’s eyes. Everything changed when we came out of the bunkers. The aggression of man was pent up down below for too long, and we let it loose on the world.