————— Triss
“Wake up!”
Triss snored as she opened her eyes, tired and sloppy. The shading of thick bars covered her between the lights. It wasn’t a very pleasant smell in here. Drops of moisture and roots thickened the air. Triss rubbed her eyes, always getting them itchy whenever she woke up, getting rid of specks of dust and bits stuck in her pupils.
“What’s your occupation?”
Triss glared around. It took her a minute to figure out she wasn’t in the same place, rather this was a cell. In front of her were thicker bars, with brief gaps between them. Not even a mouse could slide through. Bricked walls surrounded her in unity, with an oak wooden floor, reflecting the light beaming from the window bars. Triss could fit through those bars, but seeing as she saw a bird fly by, it wasn’t worth it.
“My occupation? I’m not from here.”
“Your occupation back in your hometown, then.”
The man interrogated Triss dressed like any of his peers, only this time he didn’t wear his uniform hat, showing his bald head. He had a gaunt face, and his stance was a drooping slouch. Going down between his right eye was a big scar. Triss thought it was a slash of a sword or knife, but looking closer, she realized it was a burn.
“Hunter. Get meats and fruits for my juniors and elders.”
“Then what’re you doing here?”
Triss grimaced.
“I wasn’t of use anymore.”
She lied. But she envisioned it to be the truth because she believed it was a better reality. A reality she preferred. A fake one, but better. That was all she needed.
Behind the interrogating man, a younger brought a wooden chair over and dropped it below the man.
“Thank you.”
He sat on it, carrying a confidence Triss initially didn’t see. She thought he was just a crippling old man not worthy of a soldier's title. You don’t judge an old man’s stature, especially when he’s a Marine.
“I’m Vice-Admiral Ingram, and I was just lucky enough to pass by Orade when you made a scene.”
“Orade?”
“The island you are standing on. The island where you destroyed the only willow tree in the meadowland.”
“I didn’t intend to.”
“It is not the tree I care about. How did you make it explode?”
“The others didn’t tell you?”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“I have no reason to tell you.”
“I’m a Vice Admiral. I can get you out of here without a problem.”
Triss hissed, seeing a bug crawling up her arm. She slammed on it without hesitation with her hand, leaving a dot of green on her skin. It burned. Not a life-threatening burn, but still gave Triss an itch.
“What will happen when I get out of here?”
“You’re on your own.”
“But I’m a youth.”
“I became a Marine, being younger.”
It didn’t matter if Vice-Admiral Ingram was speaking the truth or not, Triss knew she’d be in a worse shape and matter when they release her on her own. She had to get out of there, but this wasn’t the way.
“You can brag about your past or not. I’m not telling you anything. I’m safer here.”
Ingram remained quiet. Triss could read nothing from him. Nothing. He straightened up and towered over Triss.
“If you think you’re safer here, then you need to get out. They will make you do labor until you are craving out of a grave, and they will pull you out and put you to digging holes for other graves.”
Triss stared at Ingram. She recollected his words into her mind. She wasn’t much of a scholar, but she understood what just happened was worthy of remembering.
“That was quite a tantrum for a Vice-Admiral.”
“I get to speak that out loud because I am a Vice-Admiral. I have no power to change the government, but I can speak about them without being hung. Now, how did you make the willow tree explode?”
Triss was about to answer, but shut it when another Marine walked over to Ingram.
“Here you go, sir.”
It was a cup of tea, a hot one indeed, with the steam rising from inside the small-brimmed cup. It was molded from porcelain, something Triss remembered being shipped to Terro Village. Their cups and bowls were all hard-paste porcelains.
Ingram blew the steam away, and took a quick sip, then licked his lips. Triss saw a slight smile from him.
“Very good. What’s your name?”
“Officer Tic, sir.”
Triss didn’t react at first, but it was not long until she gasped, making Ingram leered at her.
“You’re okay?”
Triss rapidly nodded. She squinted her eyes at the face of the officer, wanting to confirm it was not the Tic she knew.
It was. Tic slightly nodded at Ingram and then treaded without glaring an eye at Triss.
He’s here to get me out.
Although Triss had reason to believe that, the chance was too high and Triss couldn’t think of any reasons Tic would be here.
Now, she has a reason to speak the truth and get out of here. The whole truth about her magic.
“I will tell you how I make that tree explode.”
Ingram held the cup and the plate by his thigh, and put on a big smile, showing Triss that he was interested.
“Keep going.”
————— Tic
Tic nudged the man in front of him. Both were waiting in line. Tic was the last in the line, about thirty strides before he could have his meal. He read from the walled tablet outside the room, reading they are serving baked black beans with sweet potato, starched noodles and grilled lamb.
What kind of combination is that?
Tic lived his whole life not eating more than a few porridges and poorly cooked fish. His stomach was trained to handle the rotten foods, so he was scared it would cause his stomach to stir like a whirlwind and destroy their plan.
The man didn’t respond. Tic nudged him again and added a bit more force.
“What?” A growler voice than Tic expected coming from a young-looking face.
“I’m new here. Just got transferred over from the North.”
“The North? What are you doing here?”
“They sent me here to get the grip of how the South operates compared to the North.”
That was a very general way to explain his fake mission. Tic’s past habit of reading a lot came full circle at this moment. What he read about the North and the South were very similar, but the books only encapsulated what was the public’s concept of the comparison.
Fortunately, this young marine didn’t seem to know more than Tic.
“Sure. I’m new here too. I’m Officer Hugo.”
He held his hand out for a shake. He wore a pair of gloves with silver embroidered lined down over the knuckles. Tic shook it. They took a step forward as the line shortened a little.
“Cadet Tic.”
Hugo raised his eyebrows, eyes gained more life than before.
“You’re a cadet? Look old for the title, don’t you think?”
“I enlisted recently. I know it’s late in life, but I still want to pursue it.”
Tic intended to lie his way throughout the whole disguise, but as he articulated the last line, it spoke the truth to him.
Hugo nodded and made a light hiss.
“What were you nudging me for?”
Tic forgot about that… He remembered now.
“I want to ask your opinion on today’s menu.”
Tic smelled the slimy burn of baked beans, and another peculiar, slightly sour smell hit him in the nose. He almost sneezed, but held it back with a throat shallow.
“I didn’t read it. This place’s menu doesn’t fit my appetite, so I just learned not to care. I’ll eat anything they give me.”
“Have you ever gotten a stomach to eating things you don’t know?”
“Here? No, them not being compatible with my appetite doesn’t mean they don’t cook well.”
“I’m afraid because of my… past daily consumables that my stomach won’t be able to handle it.”
Hugo grunted with his face.
“What did you eat before?”
“Soups, porridges, and kinds of seafood.”
“Those sound fancy enough.”
“Not from where I’m from.”
“Where are you from?”
That question gave Tic a pause. He wouldn’t give it away even for a stranger he will never meet again. The shame was too precarious even for him to say the name. Only thinking of the name gave him a chill.
“I’m from the land called Haldane of the North.”
Tic lied. He picked the most populated land in the North. A commoner would know the name of Haldane. Hugo chuckled.
“I didn’t think Haldane is that much of a sinkhole.”
“It is not.”
“The way you said and described gave me the feeling.”
You wouldn’t want to hear the real name of where I came from.
—————
The shimmering fork bothered Tic. It was too bright for its good, being something that even folks lower than commoners use daily. He swirled it around the noodles and made a twist that spun the noodles into a crumb holding onto the fork. Green sauce dripped down the plate, Tic drooled at the beauty of it, forgetting all his doubts about the food before this.
Finally, after all this time, after his whole life of eating trunks and leftovers, Tic can confidently proclaim that the noodles gave him the best joy he had in years. And they were just noodles.
“You look like you’re about to cry.”
Hugo took a spoonful of baked beans right above the noodles and gave it a go. He presented little reaction to Tic. Tic was disappointed, but he approved of it by slightly nodding.
“It tastes fine. I wouldn’t be able to handle the food back in your home, Tic.”
No, you would vomit and call me a disgrace.
“I think you would like it. It is me that is sick of it.”
They were sitting at a long table extended to the wall. Within the hall, there was the sound of people chatting and speaking that gave Tic modest nausea. One Tic could handle fine. There was even worse as the sound bounced back against the wall. They were out in the open as Tic peered up at the sky and saw the seagulls flying around.
What if they drop onto the meals?
Tic wanted to vomit, thinking about that.
“How did an old man like you become a cadet?”
Old man? I’m barely past my thirty.
“It is a dream of mine to become a Marine.”
“Couldn’t you have done it when you were young?”
“I am young. I just went through a lot.”
“I’m a sergeant and I’ve been involved in the Marine for ten years.”
“You’re well accomplished.” Tic took another delicious bite.
“Were you involved in the Seven Years' War?”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The Seven Years War. Tic hadn’t heard that since his involvement in the war. He carried the kid through the collisions of bullets, blood dripping from his head, blood dripping down, heating his hands. The kid’s eyes were peculiarly wide open. He felt cold. Oddly cold. It was the coldest thing Tic ever held on the battlefield. Tic yelled out for help and screamed out for attention. He kept screaming, kept doing it until his throat went dry and his voice broke-
“Tic?”
Tic blinked rapidly, not noticing Hugo waving his spoon from side to side in front of his face. His spoon smelled burnt.
“Where were you?” Hugo asked. He used the same spoon and mustered another spoonful of baked beans, now cooling off, darting over his lips.
“I… was thinking about the Seven Years' War.”
“No shit. I asked, were you involved in it?”
“Oh yes, I was.” Tic leered at his meal, pondering about the image he just had in his head. He didn’t think it would have come back to him soon, but it seemed to haunt him longer than his time as a prisoner. He failed that kid.
“Look at these.” Hugo dropped the spoon onto the plate, created a clanging sound that sounded like a bell, and held his hands up. A pair of gloves concealed them. The color was timid. The embroidered silver created an illusion that attracted Tic.
“Everyone always wonders why I wear these gloves, and I appreciate they never ask until I talk.” Hugo pulled off his gloves slowly, not in any rush. His meticulous way of pulling off gloves was for a reason, and that reason intrigued Tic. The gloves came off and revealed a pair of hands, only instead made of flesh, they were made of steel. Glinting steel emitted old rattling sounds when Hugo moved them.
“I guess you got those from the Seven Years War.” Tic was scared he might appear rude and disrespectful to the officer, so he took another bite.
“Very educated guess, but no. I got these after the War. Years after the war ended.” The longer Tic stared at Hugo’s metallic hands, the more chill his bones became. He filled his head with grotesque visuals of flesh and blood, hands beyond the metal. He couldn’t help it, and it wasn’t pleasurable.
“Hands were functioning fine after the war, no pain, no ticks, nothing. Then, a few years after I’d gone back to my family and saw my wife and kids, my hands started a mutiny against me. At first, there were just the hands not doing their jobs, then the wrists, and the forearms, then the arms, and finally, they decided they have to cut both of my arms off before I am the one that malfunctioning.”
Tic felt like Hugo was giving a speech to a humongous crowd, although as he glared around and nobody was looking at them, Hugo’s only audience was Tic. And he didn’t deserve it.
“I’m sorry, sir, with due respect. Why are you saying this to me?”
“Because I need a man of my age to vent. I’m in my thirties, and I assume you’re too.”
“How do you know-”
“It’s easy for people to recognize others of their kind. Not in the literacy sense, of course.”
“Can I ask you something?”
Hugo swigged a huge gulp, then used the collar of his shirt to wipe his lips. He nodded.
“Vice-Admiral Ingram is talking to this girl.”
“Yes.”
“And I heard she has a bow and arrows. We took them away from her.”
“Yes.”
Hugo took a big bite that filled his mouth, cheeks purred out.
Is this man listening?
“Where do you think they store them?”
“What? The bow and arrows? Probably somewhere in the storage room inside the kitchen.”
“The kitchen? They store weapons in a kitchen?”
“You’re underestimating the cooks.”
So I have.
“Why did you ask that for?”
“Oh… Because-”
Because Tic could answer, a plate dropped on the table interrupted him. It was not a rude drop, or throw, but it was still loud and noticeable enough to bother Tic. He looked to see who was the suspect, and it was a youthful face, someone who didn’t even look like a soldier.
“I don’t think this place is taken.” He made himself a guest, sitting down next to Tic, and without him noticing, another youthful face sat next to Hugo. Hugo smiled at them, then did a slight bow toward both, showing his head full of ragged hairs.
“General Tash and Captain Ash.”
General? Captain?
Tic followed Hugo and did his bow too, although he did more rigidly than Hugo.
“No need. We just gonna eat and then go back to running errands.” Captain Tash or Ash Tic forgot which one is which.
“Captain…”
“General Tash. That’s Captain Ash.”
Tash pointed at the frontman, same young look, with more curly hair.
I know the names are confusing. I’m sorry about that, but we can’t change them.”
“You can’t change your name?” Tic asked.
“They decided that what we have on the legal papers will be the names they call us, the names they introduce us as, and the names we’ll be known as if we make it into the books.” Tash laughed. He took off his long coat that touched the ground, put it to the side of the table, and threw his hat on top of the coat. Dusts flew off the coat, Tic hoped none of them landed in his dish. Ash copied Tash, and they both became less busy on the surface, ready to devour their ordinary meals.
Tic introduced to them, putting on his persona that, to be honest, he had grown to like it. It would pain him to leave it down once they got Triss out of here. Time was being what they are.
Those three were having conversations that weren’t in tune with Tic. He couldn’t seem to make out the context of their talks. He heard things about love, about war, about duties, and about magic. Each one of them could catch Tic’s attention. He wasn’t yearning for any of them.
“We were saving up for our wed. Ash bought us a lounge uphill over the North of Gard, enough to fit a hundred of my people.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Ash said.
“Officer Tic, you are invited.”
Tic was swigging his cup of grape juice, tasting the sour but flavor drink.
“I don’t deserve it.”
“You deserve it.” Tash had a high but determined voice, fitting with his youthful appearance and status. Tic’s respect for Tash grew exponentially as he was listening.
“You saw you over at the door, opening it for people. I don’t want to say this, but that is a rare sight. I always feel like I’m the only one doing it. It’s nice to know I’m not the only white sheep in a horde of black sheep.”
Tic nodded, and words ran around the hall. Tash kept his voice loud, reaching everyone’s ears, almost everyone’s ears. He needed to make the point, and grumblings could be heard: angry, confused, admired. Tash controlled the attention to him like a master of puppets.
“Everyone is hearing what I have to say, but tomorrow, when I leave the bay and wave goodbye, nobody will open the door for me.”
Tic kept nodding along with the talks, looking for gaps to contribute his thoughts, but these were premature thoughts. None deserved to be spoken out loud, but Tic enjoyed forming them.
When he took a bite, for a second, he lost focus on the flipping mouths of the people, and from outside the wall, behind the window gaps, he heard a swooshing cut of air, like something was flying at a limitless speed. Is it important? Birds could create those kinds of sounds. But this cut kept getting closer and cleaner and louder than Tic could handle.
What is it?
Before he could jerk over and figure it out himself, a big impact in the wall crumbled into pieces, wood splintered and rocks rambled, Tic dived right under the table, hands over his head, eyes closed, and he inhaled in deep before holding his breath.
Screams and shouts ran over the hall: angry, confused, madness. Tic’s head couldn’t contain the whelming situation beyond him. Splinters stabbed into his hands, his legs were covered in bags of dust. It was a hazard. Another impact dropped deep into the hall, and screams were scattered all over the place, but now, at this moment, there were fewer of them.
Is it an attack? Why? Who dared or got the nerve to start a direct attack on a Marine stronghold?
Tic covered his ears. The surrounding madness made his head purr into dizziness. He was running around in his thoughts, looking for the next step between the confusion, and then one thought stuck with him. The only important one.
Triss!
————— Lloyd ————— An Hour Ago
One… two… three!
Lloyd pulled all the force inside his body to hurl the body. Saying its body was pessimistic, Lloyd hoped they hadn’t killed the poor young man yet. That was his biggest wish. The body stood fumblingly inside the outhouse, the one Lloyd found far from the hays when he took an observational walk. It was stinking of leaking pits and clouded by a swarm of bugs. Lloyd felt sorry he had to put him here, but it was for caution. He closed the door with ease and treaded a few strides away from the outhouse, then took in a deep breath of fresh air.
He was planning to find his way around Marine’s harbor to find a suitable ship for him. After that, wait for Tic and Triss and he would consider his job to be done after that. For that to happen, Tic needed to do his part, and with no communication, Lloyd could only pray and say hopeful words.
What am I going to do now?
He pondered while peering over the meadow. It reminded him of the time when below the valley, a lesser meadow according to him, Lloyd was throwing and chasing with the farmers of the field.
A thought popped up in his head, and it was a pain but necessary step to get out of this alive with enough resources on the sea. He would need it, and they didn’t have the wealth to afford another one.
Lloyd sighed, kicking the small rocks into the grass, and made his way toward the walkway leading into the center of the island.
—————
“What do you mean, it fixed itself?”
The words came from the shopkeeper’s mouth and bewildered Lloyd into the midst of confusion.
Did it fix itself?
Lloyd leaned by the old shop’s counter, facing the shopkeeper and the register machine right next to him. The place smelled of metal and chives, not the combination Lloyd expected from a store like this. The well-embellished windows gave him a view of the people carrying their lives, the view of the sea, the view of the smoke.
On the counter lay there the view of the compass, still as rusted and as dirty, but Lloyd assumed the arrow was pointing in the right direction instead of the opposite.
“So… Can I just get my compass back and go on my way?”
“Pay for it.”
Oh no…
“You did nothing to fix it. You said it yourself. It fixed itself.”
“But you’re still using my time, and that means fees.”
I can’t deal with this fraud’s logic.
“I bet on my life you’re doing this to me because I am an outsider.”
“Yes.”
Too honest.
“What would happen if I just take the compass and leave?”
“I’ll call the authority.”
“But you can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“I would tell them you’re scamming me. Scamming a customer.”
“And I would tell them you’re lying, and they will choose to believe me over you.”
As someone with good aim using a gun, Lloyd wished he didn’t forget to bring his gun and scare this guy to death. Without bullets loaded into the barrel, of course.
You son of a-
A distortion in the air disrupted Lloyd’s thinking, as from the outside, passing through all the windows, Lloyd heard an explosion. One that was remarkable. He ran out of the shop, seizing the compass, and glared back and front, looking for the origin of the disruption.
It didn’t take long for Lloyd to have his mouth gasping from seeing a long trail of smoke rising from the distinct, and as he was squinting, he saw it was above the Marine stronghold. It was a strong building before, but now its shape of view looked no different from a forgotten ruin.
Lloyd couldn’t move, all his limbs were frozen. Roc landed on his shoulders with ease, shifting him a little. He didn’t know how to act, but seeing this was another attack from what he could see, and he saw little, he didn’t want the same thing to happen again in Terro Village.
The Marine stronghold? Oh… they are both in there!
Lloyd’s first thoughts about Triss and Tic escalated him into sprinting toward the stronghold, leaving behind the shopkeeper, wailing around, and calling Lloyd a thief. Roc was gliding beside him. He wouldn’t know what to do or act once he got there and witnessed the destruction, but it was due to him they both designed the stronghold. It was his idea to have Tic in there and get Triss out. And he knew it was his responsibility now to save both of them. And he would do it. He will do it. Successfully, he hoped.
————— Triss
The air became thicker and more toxic than Triss could have imagined. Her throat was burning. It was like a monster was devouring into her cords viciously. Her nostrils were the exception to the pain. She couldn’t believe without breath, but she wouldn’t live any longer breathing the noxious air.
Triss opened her eyes, looking through the mist of concrete and specks of dust. The steel door to her prison swung with a clang. She could only make out a big and sturdy silhouette, almost a giant compared to Triss’ size, approaching her hastily.
“Hurry!” Ingram’s deep voice shrieked into her ears, like a rigid command that she couldn’t refuse. He lent his arm out and grabbed Triss by the shoulder, then hurled her toward the exit. The speed was too fast for Triss to react on time. Her legs were trying to balance out, but she tripped on a crack and almost broke her nose before a marine held her up. He pushed her forward and ran alongside the group.
Her legs were moving faster than she had ever been, following the group to wherever they were leading. The only reassuring thing was that she would be safe. Triss turned her head around to see the cracks spreading like a disease. Buildings fell to pieces. What shocked her the most was Ingram himself. For a man of his shape, he exceeded the others in speed, running like a leopard chasing its most precious prey.
Ingram ran side by side with Triss, slowing down for her.
“Is this a work by your comrades?”
“No! They’re saving me, but they don’t have this kind of power.”
“They’re saving you?”
“Triss!”
A voice caught Triss to stop and glared over to the side, to the enormous hall that was crumbling into ashes. She didn’t know how she could see through the mess that was stumbling, maybe because of the light shining from the big destructed gap, but she instantly recognized the figure of Tic with the marine outfit. Behind him was a vast pit formed in an arc, leading out into the ocean.
Triss was going to answer him, but it was better for her to sprint at full speed at him before any of the marines alongside her could do anything. Her eyes lit up at seeing Tic had her precious weapon, oak bow, and the quiver of arrows. He held the bow by the handle with his right hand, and the quiver was wrapped around the left back of his shoulder.
“Behind you!”
Tic tossed her bow while she was glaring back, gasping at the approaching speed of Ingram. He was not planning on letting her go that easy. She almost slipped the catch of bow, and Tic then hurled the quiver to her in a sloppy way.
The bag didn’t reach her in the air, instead dropping onto the floor, still moving toward her with friction. She crouched while her legs still moving, enduring the pain of her muscles contracting, and leaned her arm out, trying to grab the belt of the quiver.
The place shook once more like an earthquake, breaking Triss’ balance and causing her to miss the quiver, and it was moving toward Ingram. Fortunately or unfortunately, Triss couldn’t decide which, but she grabbed a sole arrow. As she was nearing Tic, he ran to the left, signaling her with a nod. Although she was panting, her legs numbed from the work, she continued to follow him.
“We need to find a ship.”
“A ship?”
“Lloyd sent me in to find you and steal a ship. Fortunately, the first task was given to me.”
“Do we know who is attacking us?”
“No, but they’ve stopped their firings. Now, how do we stop those marines from chasing us?”
Triss looked behind to see a group led by Ingram still chasing them with determination. Ingram projected an aura that scared her, something he didn’t do back when she saw him through the bars.
The sole arrow in her possession, the sole bow in her possession. There was only one plausible option she could think of. And it required a sheer amount of luck that she prayed was with her.
“Tic, I have an idea and am going to execute it now, so you try your best to go with it!”
“What?”
Triss aimed her shot toward Ingram, but she wasn’t thinking of falling into the bad deed of the Marines by killing their Vice-Admiral, so she lowered her aim to the floor between the distance of her and Ingram. She released her string, and the bow flung out of her sway, leaving behind a trail of feathers as it was traveling toward the floor. Then, before the impact, a cloud of green surrounded it like a mist, channeling it into matters of the unknown. Triss can feel it. She could feel the energy from her draining into the arrow.
Once the impact happened… nothing happened. A gust of wind swooshed by blowing Triss’ hair to the side, covering her sight of view. Nothing happened-
The arrow lit up like a firefly blew into a million pieces of matter and released immense energy. The air temperature shot up high. It was a worthy explosion, according to the planning of Triss. But what of a phenomenon it created after this baffled Triss? The explosion, instead of gutting out inward, the wind was pulling inward toward the explosion. Triss and Tic weren’t prepared for that, causing them to lose their balance and was being sucked into the explosion - not at a great speed, but still horrifying.
“I’m gonna do this. You’re ready?”
Tic’s words caused Triss to be less ready. What is he gonna do?
Tic wrapped his arms around Triss’ waist and hurled both of them into the vast pit.
WHAT?
Triss couldn’t help but release a huge gasp of air, borderline screaming. She looked down toward the bottom of the pit, hoping for a pool of water or anything that would not turn her into a bloody mess of human organs destined to be eaten by vultures or just lying there alive in agony. Unfortunately, nothing was in her favor. Something even worse than a concrete floor. She finally got a clear view of what belonged at the bottom, and it was pit dark.
Will it go on forever?
————— Lloyd
“Hold your hands up!”
Those words may seem like Lloyd was in trouble, but fortunately, they came out of Lloyd’s mouth. He was holding a flintlock gun he picked up from the piles of weapons, probably crumbled from the storage rooms. Luck was on his side this time.
And the one he was pointing it at? A marine. Lloyd wouldn’t bet in his whole life he would threaten the life of a marine, but life leads you to try new things.
“Don’t move! Take off your belt and don’t let your hands come to anything near your gun.”
The marine had both hands down, toward the belt around his waist.
“Do it slowly.”
The marine followed Lloyd’s order with precise movements, buttoning off his belt, holding it out to the side with the gun holstered, and dropping it on the ground. It fired off into the distance, flung Lloyd into cursing at himself.
“Now, keep striding forward at a steady pace. Arms high in the air.”
They both were heading toward a big sturdy marine ship, striped with blue and a big view of the marine flag. It is not built to hold an army, but looked enough to fit in a horde of a crew. Lloyd’s crew. Luckily, they were not that far from him as Lloyd heard a trail of screams coming from above, a harmony between a male and female.
Lloyd couldn’t make out what was happening at first, the same for the marine. Then his mouth slowly opened, finally noticing the figures of his crew. Triss and Tic - are about to fall to their deaths.
My life couldn’t get any harder, isn’t it?
————— Waid
Who is doing these things?