A section of the larger crowd blocking a street parted as several vans drove by. Janine narrowed her eyes upon noticing that it wasn’t a sporadic event; whoever was in charge ensured that no one would accidentally ended up under the wheels. A group of Orais, seemingly by accident, pushed people out of the way of the protesters.
The protesters who drove and marched on the road carried signs: ‘Stop needless wars!’ and ‘Bring our children home!’. A rotten fruit splattered on Camelia’s battle plate. The woman ignored the defacement of the precious relic, examining the demonstrators as if they were annoying gnats, while the police closed in on them. Several New Breeds, including a six-armed Malformed, formed a line, not using their claws, blades, or muscles against the law enforcers, but neither did they let them approach a speaker on the leading van.
No. Janine clenched her fangs, sensing Ravager’s aimless focus on the people. The Wolf Tribe could instinctively feel their mother’s emotions when she was close. When she was in anguish, violent turmoil engulfed the tribe, and artisans of the Order produced the most horrific paintings. When the Blessed Mother paid attention to a domination match, it often ended in death. When she was angry, the tribe sallied out, destroying everything in their path.
“They call themselves monsters!” A tall, tanned man stood atop the van and shouted into a microphone. Reporters captured his face, allowing the man to appear on street displays. “And I’m forced to agree! These glory-seeking, war-mongering parasites speak of peace, but decade after decade, our nation’s resources are drained into war so that fiends like Ravager can parade their triumphs before us and bask in the gold stolen from the crushed lands! Does it seem just to anyone?!” He glanced around, and as the police brandished maces and tasers, he hurried. “See how they try to silence us, afraid of the truth! Why is there still no free healthcare in the Outer Lands? Why must our brave boys and girls sacrifice their lives in distant lands while our own remains underdeveloped? Every year the government lures young people to join the army and they come back shell-shocked, traumatized, missing limbs or not at all. Is this a fair exchange? Do we not have problems at home? Imagine if we had put our efforts into civilian industry instead of building these behemoths!” He pointed at the crawler. “Other countries would have joined us on their own! Our citizens starve and die from thirst, while these creatures…”
“You dare?” Ravager’s voice silenced the man, and he suddenly found himself in her shadow. Janine was shocked. She could bet her life that no one, not even their cousins, had seen the Blessed Mother move and land with the grace of a falling feather.
Her arms swung to block the tasers, ignoring the electric currents that disappeared in her body. Her fingers took on the policemen’s maces. She didn’t strike at them, but the reverberation from facing impregnable objects in their path nearly caused the cops to lose their maces. A growl stopped Zero and Camelia from advancing.
“You misconstrue our deeds and seek flaws instead of honoring the necessary sacrifices.” Ravager’s voice vacillated between calm and fury; her pupils shrank and dilated, and blood spurted from her nose. “There are true monsters lurking behind the walls. Fort Uglo! Ravines of Desolation! Crimson Citadel! Houstad Itself! Remember them well!” Her trembling finger pointed to a family in the crowd. “I smell it, even after generations. Your ancestors were chemically marked, correct?”
“Yes, Lady Ravager,” answered a pale man, standing ahead of a snow-white little girl and a tanned woman. “My grandparents underwent a procedure that caused letters of ownership to appear on their children’s bodies and made them more susceptible to servitude. It ended with my father.”
“It didn’t. It permeates you and your daughter to a lesser degree, but no longer affects the psyche,” Ravager told him, never taking her eyes off the orator. “The men who did it to his ancestors kept slaves in cages. When the time came, they gave an order, and the poor souls walked to a slaughterhouse of their own volition, one after another.” Her fur rose and drool spilled onto the man’s face. “How would you stop a filth like that? Do you think they listened to your words? Do you think they will be awed and humbled by your wealth? They’ll raid to claim those riches! We murder, so you didn’t have to! You named us parasites, but we are a barbarian horde that protects and avenges the helpless! We slaughter so that people may live! So that you may know peace and happiness! Our armies conquer to free others from the horrors of servitude, from the terror of being eaten alive! We bleed and die to protect you! We are the chain breakers, the monster slayers, and you dare to call us creatures, you ignorant, petulant child…”
“Does culling us protect us, monster?” A calm voice inquired.
Ravager froze and turned to face an elderly woman, who held up a sign and used a cane to walk around. An eye patch was placed over her left eye. She tossed the sign aside and hobbled over to Ravager, who sniffed the air.
“I remember, I remember, must remember.” More blood spurted from her nostrils. The Blessed Mother shook and slid her own claws under the skin of her temple. “During the subjugation of Mincemeat, right?” she asked, as if nothing had happened.
Mincemeat. Janine tensed. A conquest that happened decades ago. A brutal mutant held nearly half a million people in his thrall, controlling their bodies with his mind. When diplomats of the Reclamation Army delivered the ultimatum, he laughed and made them skin themselves alive before the Dynast’s eyes. Even the Wolfkins weren’t safe, and several of them stepped into the tyrant’s mind control zone and became his willing slaves.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The Dynast then unleashed the Blessed Mother. And the kingdom didn’t even last an hour.
“Yes.” The woman spat at Ravager. “He controlled us like puppets, our limbs moved against our will; we toiled and danced to his amusement, screaming inside. Men and women breed for him, birthing fresh slaves. More died building statues in his honor. And then he threw us at you. We could never have harmed you.” The woman raised a trembling fist. “Did you recognize this, beast? I cracked my knuckles against your hide as you devoured my entire family! I remember your mad laughter and giggles to this day; the crimson sand haunts my dreams. And the stench!”
“I am sorry,” Ravager said. She didn’t move; she did nothing when a cane struck her leg.
“What good to me your apologies!” The woman shrieked; her feeble voice somehow rose to a tornado. “Ravines of Desolation? You demand us to remember them? You remember them! Over forty thousand lives you ended that day—more than Mincemeat killed in a month! What sin, what unforgivable crime did they commit to perish in your claws? You want forgiveness? Give me back my family!”
“Why is the Blessed Mother tolerating it?” Janine growled. “Why does she allow these unjust accusations to be piled at her feet?”
“Jani, don’t do anything reckless.” Martyshkina took her by the shoulders, forcing her friend to stay where she was. “This is the progenitor’s will…”
“Screw the progenitor’s will!” Eled roared.
The warlord pushed from the crowd. Predaig tried to grab her arm, and Eled struck, breaking her fingers. Eled breathed hard; a red gleam danced in her new amber eyes. The Blessed Mother’s mood dawned on them; it demanded submission and silence, but the raging fury in Eled’s soul took over, and she jumped from the crawler, the concrete exploding under the weight of her body, sending a web of cracks in every direction.
“Bullshit!” She roared to the sky and advanced toward the woman, snarling at Ravager’s gaze. “People died. My condolences. Death happens in war. You dare call the Blessed Mother a monster? After Mincemeat’s death, we had a hundred thousand slaves who never tasted freedom. Children who never had a chance to grow up and live, trapped in adult bodies. Was it your wish to see them enslaved until their last day? Do you know how to prosecute a war so that no innocent soul dies?”
“Commander Ravager saved them.” Camelia interrupted her silence. The sword saint joined Eled and glared icily at the Normie woman. “She paid for their rehabilitation and their integration into society.”
“She saved us!” shouted an older man from the crowd. “It was Mincemeat who took our minds! If it weren’t for the Blessed Mother, we would all have died in his thrall!” More voices joined him, telling of their misfortunes or the misery of their ancestors before the Third delivered them.
“You weren’t there!” The woman shouted, and Ravager raised her arm, silencing everyone so that she could speak. “You know, you just saw how fast that bitch is. Bullets bounced off her hide, laser beams splashed across her fur. What danger were we to her? She could’ve easily evaded us, but she chose to stay and carve a bloody path out of our bodies!” Tears streamed down her face as she pounded her cane and fist against the black fur. A younger man, who bore a resemblance to the old woman, took her arm and tried to lead her away. “Here! Use your claws, render me asunder, show your true nature, beast; I don’t care! Give me back my family, or send me to them, but end this accused nightmare!”
“No.” Ravager stopped the police from arresting the protesters, keeping her eyes on the woman. “There will be no violence today, save for one directed at the guilty. Their grievances are fair. They are not to be arrested or harmed. I am sorry,” Ravager told the crowd, bowing her head. “I would like to offer some recompense and some measure of satisfaction for what I have caused you…”
“But you did!” Shouted people. “The soldiers of the Third rescued us from Blood Graf, and you gutted the bastard for what he did to our families…”
“What does it matter?” Ravager stood at her full height, looking left and right. “Does a noble deed excuse the evil? What can I possibly do to atone for the sea of dead left in my wake? No. I am a monster, fully and truly. Say your piece, good people; shout your anger and inflict a token of pain on me I have brought upon you. I owe you this much. I would’ve given my life to pay for what I did, but this coin is not mine to give.” She waited a moment and addressed the elderly woman. “Hate me if you must. There is nothing wrong with spite or hatred, not when they are honest. But direct your ire at the guilty! My kin share similarity in visage, but they do not share my crimes.”
Ravager knelt on one knee, and Janine was surprised to see the crowd gather around her. There were no more insults; the police removed most of the demonstrators, but on the commander’s order, they left their leader, a man with long blond hair. He asked the Blessed Mother about her views for the future of the country, and she answered they were in alignment with the Dynast’s vision. Build a nation worth living in. Reunite the planet to prevent even a chance of another Extinction. Eliminate racism. Multiple cultures, different people, one nation.
After hearing her speak so calmly, more people approached. The Blessed Mother smiled at the pale family, whose daughter no longer feared her. A giant paw patted the little one gently, wishing her well. Ravager answered questions about life in the Outer Lands, not shying away from exposing savagery, cruelty, or her own approval of harsh laws. She honestly admitted to not remembering a fallen soldier who died serving in the ranks of the Third to his parents. And she laughed at a question about the wound on her head, pointing out that it didn’t bleed anymore. After learning that he was a medic, she bristled and waved the man away.
“Eled.” Ravager distracted herself from talking to the crowd to keep the warlord from climbing back into the crawler.
“Yes, Mother.” Eled bowed, putting on sunglasses to ease the strain on her eyes. “I am ready to accept punishment…”
“Good. You have damaged a section of the road. You will help the workers to repair it.”
“Can’t…” Eled licked her lips. “Can’t you rip off my arm and call it even as usual? Fixing stuff is not my forte.”
“Then it is a perfect punishment,” Ravager laughed melodiously, then returned to addressing the crowd as the soldiers marched past and the parade resumed.
The mayor joined the commander and took her by the arm, guiding her to a sidewalk where they, the reporters, and ordinary people sat in a café near a shop that piqued Janine’s curiosity. It sold ice cream.
An ice cream cone. Janine reminded herself. She will learn what it is, and Spirits help Anissa if she lied to her.