Each desperate gasp of freezing air burned in Cillian's lungs. This was the first he had run this hard and this long. What was usually almost a day-long trip, between the cabin and the village, was on pace to be finished in less than half of an hour. There was a dull ache in his legs that Cillian had been peripherally aware of, only kept off by the continuous motion of his legs. By now, he had left the village long behind him and could see the entrance to the wooded area fast approaching. The smoke coming from the forest was much larger than when he first saw it. The black was richer and deeper now. The last look at the smoke, before entering the cover of pine trees, seeded Cillian's fear even deeper.
As he ran through the rough trail, the smell of burning wood became apparent. Cillian snagged his foot on an exposed root and fell face first into the forest floor. Pine needles, dirt, and snow stuck to his face with a sting, but he didn't have time to care about the pain. Just as quickly as he fell, he got back up and continued the hastened travel. A warm liquid crept out of his nose.
I must have hit my nose when I fell.
He wiped the blood and turned the corner.
It’s not going to be my house. Amalea is going to be okay. When I turn this corner, I’m going to see the cabin exactly the same it always is.
When Cillian saw the orange light coming from the clearing where his home lay, his heart sank. His pace quickened and the heat grew. The snow on the ground and surrounding trees had melted and the green of the once hidden grass was visible. It had almost seemed like there was a circle of spring in the heart of the frozen wilderness.
That's when he saw it: the colossal inferno. The home he had known his whole life, the one that he was born in, that his parents had left him, the one that he entrusted to protect his only remaining family, was consumed by flames. Cillian dropped to his knees with tears welling up in his eyes.
"Amalea!” He slammed the moist ground, screaming. He screamed at the fire, and the blaze roared back. The everpresent heat warmed Cillian's cold body.
"Brother!" A shrill shriek came from his side. It snapped Cillian back into reality. He turned to face the direction of the noise. Another piercing cry came, "Help me!"
The first thing Cillian noticed was the horse drawn carriage. Then he saw the people. Three soldiers held Amalea and were dragging her towards the carriage. There was another man, dressed similar to the announcer from the village, but with a white plume, overseeing the other three. Cillian ran towards them screaming, "Stop it! What are you doing?! Let go of her!"
"Tell me what the fuck is going on!" Cillian yelled once he reached the group. The trio of soldiers stopped.
"Oh? You're telling me what to do?" The soldier distinguished with the white plume turned to Cillian. All of them had black masks that completely covered their face, and made it impossible to tell any discerning features.
"Should we take care of him commander?" One of the soldiers carrying Amalea said.
"Brother you're here," Amalea said, smiling, when she saw him. A wave of relief passed over her body, and she relaxed, no longer resisting the soldiers.
"No," The commander said, folding his hands behind his back. He walked close to Cillian, and observed the panic on his face for a moment. "These are bizarre times we live in. So, just this once, I will tolerate that."
"Tell me what is going on," Cillian said again, this time between gasps of air as he caught his breath.
"That is your sister, yes?" The commander said, pointing to Amalea. He was taller than Cillian, so he bent slightly to speak to him.
"Yes she is. Why is my house on fire and why are you taking her? Let her go," Cillian's words were laced with seething anger. He clenched his fists to buy the patience necessary to hear the answer of his question.
"Your family is doing a great service. I will answer your questions."
The commander's mask hid everything except his eyes. The mask was simple and had a matte appearance. It contoured around his face, with only small holes for breathing around the nostrils and mouth area. They were all too small to see through, even with the oppressive light of the blaze, except for holes for the eyes. By only looking at those dark brown eyes, Cillian could tell the commander was smiling.
"All of this has been done by direct order of the Emperor himself," the commander said then turned away. "Come one, take her," he instructed the other soldiers.
Amalea immediately screamed out, kicking and flailing. The soldiers of the Black Empire paid her no attention as they moved towards the carriage.
"Stop! Hey! Stop it! LET HER GO!" Cillian screamed and pleaded. None of them minded the screaming siblings. The heat of the flames was almost burning Cillian's back. The ashes of what was once his beloved home were scattering all around him. All that he had left was being dragged away from him. Taken from him. Stolen from him.
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Cillian charged at the trio who was carrying Amalea. He tackled one, and the two of them rolled across the cold wet ground. The metal armor pressed and poked into Cillian's body as they tumbled.
The soldier's weapon had been tossed next to them during the scuffle, and when they stopped moving Cillian landed up on top of the black figure. He raised his arm to strike, but the masked man underneath wasted no time and pushed him off, reversing the position. Cillian was violently thrown onto his back, and felt the soldier's pressure bearing down on his ribs. If they weren't bruised and fractured in the initial roll, they definitely were now.
The soldier punched Cillian in the face. The cold metal gauntlets tore his skin. Cillian could feel the warmth of blood seeping out of his body, accompanied by the throbbing and stinging pain.
The black armored soldier struck again and again, each time furthering the evolution of his face into a bloody mess. Cillian stuck his arms out, tried to push the man on top of him away, and flailed with his legs trying to buck him off, but all to no avail.
The commotion caused the other two guards to loosen their grip around Amalea. Her kicking and screaming broke her free, and when she hit the ground, she ran as fast as she could away from her captors.
She ran with tears streaming down her face and breath out of her control. The other two metal clad warriors pursued her.
Though the little girl ran harder than she had ever in her life, it was to no avail. Before she could even make it halfway across the clearing, she was back again in the arms of her pursuers. She let out a primal scream of frustration. The men took her back and she was able to see what was happening to her brother. Her body went limp, and all she could do was cry. The winter wind made her tears burn.
"Stop," the white plumed commander ordered. The three under his command froze before they could even think about the order given.
"Get off of him," He commanded again.
The one on top of Cillian got up and moved away from the beaten boy. The commander reached down and grabbed Cillian's shirt and lifted him up onto his knees. Cillian was in a daze. His mind buzzed with pain, and nothing was clear to him. His body felt unresponsive, and he knew he was at the mercy of those around him.
"I gave you the gift of my respect. You're worthless. The ashes of your home have more value than your life and everything you have done, and still I gave you the gift of my respect. I treated you as my equal. You asked, and I gave you what you wanted. Then you have the audacity to demand more. You ungrateful pig." The commander stopped speaking.
No one made any noise. For a moment, everything was perfectly motionless as the commander held Cillian up. Only the roar of the fire was present.
The commander broke the stillness by driving his knee into Cillian's body. He fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. He held his body as he writhed in pain.
The commander grabbed Cillian's shoulders with both of his hands and lifted him back to his knees.
"You are blessed my dear. Blessed with the opportunity to sacrifice to the Emperor. This sacrifice has raised your lowly existence and given it a meaning all of us should strive for. You're an inspiration to all of us." The commander gently fixed the messy black hair stuck to Cillian's face.
"Please," Cillain whispered. "Take me instead."
Each word caused a sharp pain around his lungs.
"I am sorry. Your sister was chosen. I know the pain you are feeling. You wanted to be the one to bear the honor of the Emperor. Fear not little one, she has made your bloodline a most beloved one." The commander was gripping Cillian's arms tightly now. "Take her away,"
The two carrying the little white haired girl took her to the black carriage. She didn't struggle anymore. She didn't cry anymore.
"Stop. Please," Cillian strained to get the words out. The commander let go of him and kneeled down to match Cillian. He took off his helmet and revealed a man with pale white skin and long blonde hair tied up into a tight bun on his head. Even through his blurry vision, Cillian could see the man's delicate and beautiful features.
"It's okay," the blonde haired man said.
Anger welled past the pain. Cillian couldn't muster the strength to swing at him. So, he spit the blood from his mouth at the commander’s face. Droplets of red spotted the almost perfect white skin.
"You hate me," the commander said. He was not phased by the blood on his face. A smile started to form and the commander looked up at the sky. Cillian could see a large scar across his neck. "Thank you," Cillian heard the man whisper.
The commander brought his head back to face Cillian.
"I want you to remember me. I want you to remember who took it all away from you. Remember who blessed you with the reminder of your weakness." The commander brought his face so close to Cillian's that their noses were almost touching.
"You're helpless. No matter what you did, no matter how hard you tried, you would have never stopped me. I want you to remember that. Remember it forever."
A tear streamed down the commander's face. He grasped Cillian's right wrist and hugged him.
"Thank you. Thank you for letting me be the one to hurt you. Thank you for hating me," the commander said.
Cillian felt his arm, where it was being grasped by the commander, getting warm. The warmth turned into heat. The heat turned into pain. Cillian screamed out in agony.
"Let me give you a gift to repay the beautiful thing you have given me," the emotion in the commander's voice could be heard through Cillian's cries.
"Please, do not forget me." The pain that Cillian felt was beyond unbearable, then suddenly, it stopped.
The commander let his arm go and let him fall to the ground once more. The commander equipped his headgear and moved away from the hunched over boy.
"I will kill you," Cillian whispered. "I will kill you. I will kill you! I will kill you! I WILL KILL YOU!" The volume of his voice escalated till he was screaming.
"Shut him up, I need to make my report." The commander ordered the remaining soldier, over the continuous screaming. The soldier obeyed and took the pike from the ground that was lost to him in the earlier scuffle. Then, in one swift blow he hit the back of the weapon against the back of Cillian's head. The screaming stopped and Cillian crumpled to the ground.
Everything was black.
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Tragedy