Winter, 1966

Clear sky, hot and humid; that's how Ucria's winter was. Our family lived in the town called Torbeke, in the southern part of the country. We had four family members; Mother Joanna, Father Darius, Son - my little brother - Ruben and daughter - myself - Jeanne. The Charrier family house was a simple wooden house, bolstered by four thick logs. We've made them so whenever nearby river overflows our house does not get swept away.

Charrier family is the hunter's house, with predecessors reaching up to hundreds of years ago. The family had a long history, my father was proud of it.

But my father gave up being hunter years ago - long before he married our mother. The society was evolving, and just hunting did not have enough income to support our family. He decided to become a military officer. But without background or proper education, there was no chance for him to get promoted quite as often. He is stuck in the captain, but his income was more than enough to support our family.

Mother was born in Torbeke and grew up in the town. She had no experiences of the outside world. But she was a loving mother, trying best to provide care for all of our family members. We don't know the details of how our parents met. Even they don't remember very well - to them, marriage happened before they realized it.

Ruben, our only son and my little brother, is 14 years old. He's really active, trying to observe and experience whatever he sees and feels. These days our little brother is super curious about world politics; he always brings maps and books about foreign countries. Ruben is fixated on the outside world - he was not interested in our family's history. Sometimes he goes out of the town border, to adventure beyond Torbeke and nearby mountains. One day, police brought him back from a town far from Torbeke; we still don't know how he got there.

And lastly, myself Jeanne. I'm only 17 years old. While not as active as Ruben, I always try to stick to what our family did long before - hunting. Now I am 17 years old, I can get a rifle and go out hunting. With approval from our father, I was given the rifle my grandfather used. It is a bit worn, though.

But back to now, our tranquil town was now buzzing with soldiers. Their captain was our father. Our family had no idea why they were coming into the village; only our father knew.

Torbeke was a tiny town - disconnected from the world. The only connection to the outside world was a small road between Cleasau. And that day, my father called everyone in the town to gather around that road.

It was a sunny day. No clouds in sight. Humid and hot as boiling pot. The road between Torbeke and Cleasau was tiny and rough. Surrounded by jungle, the peaceful green scenery was interrupted by the commotion of hundreds of residents gathering. And in front, our father, Darius, wearing a green-patterned uniform, was getting ready to have a speech.

"Uhm," father cleared his throat. "To the people of Torbeke, I am Captain Darius, commander of 5th Infantry Company of 3th Infantry Battalion of Ucrian Army. I grew up here, married here and raised our children here. It pains me to say that this very town will become a battlefield soon. This tiny town might've not heard yet, but the Empire held war against neighbours 10 years ago; now they head to Ucria. If you want to survive the carnage, pack your stuff and leave the area immediately. We will provide logistics."

The crowd started murmuring. "But..." I whispered. Our mother went to our house and started packing; she looked desperate. Soon after the speech, six of large trucks came. All of them had white flags strapped on the rear-view mirror. Both of us stood on the side of the road and looked.

"These trucks will provide room for all villagers." said one of the soldiers to Darius. "But they are unarmed. What if the Empire attacks them?"

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"Let's hope God they don't," Darius said.

Hours passed. Many families were loading their luggage into the trucks. It was almost dawn; the sky was getting darker, and only the sound of moving trucks filled the town. A sudden announcement of war has made this place chaotic. Some even refused to leave the town; not believing what our father said. We helped mother pack some of the family's essential items, such as water and food.

Though time to time we looked at what our father was doing. He had a grim expression on his face. Commanding hundreds of troops, father was transforming this town into a formidable fortress. It was painful to watch our playground becoming a trench for the mortars.

When we almost finished loading our stuff into the trucks, this peaceful, tranquil town changed into the fortress. The barricade was installed in the roads, and our townhall became command post. Soldiers placed strange guns into the top of buildings, and they dug the ground deep. At the town's borders, barbed wires were everywhere and some warning signs for the mines. Ruben tried to go over the barbed wires when no one was watching, but he failed as wires were taller than himself.

It was night. More and more trucks arrived in the town. Just like before, these had white flag strapped on the rear-view mirror. Our father shouted,

"Get on the truck! They will head to Blue Field, the capital! Be safe!"

That was the last time we could hear the father's voice.

As we were getting onto the back of the truck, an explosion was heard afar. It lighted up the entire sky. The sound of jets ripping the air could be heard from skies.

Explosions did not stop. It went on, getting more and more spread. Soon the horizon was filled with non-stop explosions and gun sound. Trucks began to howl and left the town immediately. As the dust from the wheels clouded our vision, I attempted to look at my father one last time. He was nowhere to be seen.

Trucks moved along the road, and our home was getting distant. All of us in the watched burning horizon, speechless. In just hours, the entire region was engulfed in fires. Mother was on the verge of tears; she screamed our father's name a few times.

The long convoy of trucks headed to the Cleasau; they turned their lights on the midway. It was a frightful sight, as only the ashes of jungles remained. And besides that, the road was damaged during the bombing. Convoy had to stop and clear any rocks that blocked the road. I could hear soldiers grumbling about how dangerous this mission was.

It was midnight. Ruben opened a world map and asked us: "Do you know what the Empire is?" I answered, "No, I've only heard about them from my father. He said they are the mightiest nation in the whole world."

"Look at the world map, Jeanne. In down below. You see the Centia Empire? That large country is what our father is trying to defend our town against."

Centia Empire. Largest in the world, mightiest in the world. That was what our father said. "Ruben, why are they invading us?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe Empire want oils or something." He answered.

As the trip continued, we fell asleep in the truck. Explosions and gunfires in the background somehow helped us to rest. Just sometimes we woke up from jets flying right above us.

Trucks moved harsh terrain effortlessly; soldiers were getting comfortable with the rough state of the road. The scent of burning trees filled the air. No matter where I looked, the entire forest between Cleasau and Torbeke was bombed and burnt down. This was the first time I've ever experienced dizziness from unending scenery. Nothing remained untouched; it was as if Empire has brought God of destruction and destroyed everything resisting.

Mother's eyes were full of sadness. "It was such a beautiful place. To think now they are gone... What happens now?" She said.

"Hey, the Blue Field is safe! They are hundreds of kilometres away, and to add most of Ucria's military might is there!" One of the refugees said. "Yeah, look at the state of this place," Ruben said; the atmosphere became quiet again.

The sun rose again as nothing happened, but the sky was still dark from smokes. The monotonous sound of engines howling was the only sound I could ever hear. "Darius..." Our mother whispered, looking like a ghost.