Mhaieiyu

Arc 2, Chapter 7

The Fragility of Hope

The last of the bodies hit the sand with a satisfying crunch, mowed down by the half-spent armies of the Syndicate, who had overwhelmed the exhausted numbers and resources of Yanksee bit by bit. The mortar fired one last time, missing completely as its angle was ripped away from perfection by the destructive forces of the combined Mynotaurs’ efforts. The massive barrel screeched as it was pushed from the carriage’s frame and snapped off its cradle, sinking almost entirely as it smashed against the sand, raising a victorious warcry from the western forces who clambered upon the machine as if having slain a mighty beast. The many lives it had taken would rest happier knowing their murderer had been put down definitively.

The Sixth Lieutenant Corvus and Third Brigadier Emris, survivors of the battle, rested their backs against each other and huffed. Corvus had been dealt a good deal of damage, and he gave thanks to Victus that his life hadn’t been taken. Celestials were most connected to the Goddess responsible for life and were for such prized with considerable endurance. That said, even they would die eventually.

Emris’ wounds, on the other hand, had mostly disappeared, though he looked no less spent from the event.

“We weren’t far off from biting it there, were we?” Corvus said, his hands on his knees.

“Oy, don’t ye worry about old me. Look at yerself, mate. With so many bullet holes ye wouldn’t have lasted long,” Emris said, wiping his brow and neck of sweat.

The crowd of soldiers cheered, taking potshots at the sky and over the dunes, some even trying to hit the retreating Yanksies. All would miss at this range.

Emris straightened himself. “Ah, what’d we get out of this? Remind me.”

“We’ll keep Yanksee off our coast for a year or two. We can focus on the Reds.”

The veteran sighed. “See, after fightin’ and goin’ through all that, that don’t seem like much.”

“There’s also another thing…” Corvus raised his hand, before pointing it over his shoulder. Emris followed his finger. “That young man there, can you guess who he is?”

“A Yanksie?”

“That, and guess what else?”

The brig snorted, showing his teeth. “No clue.”

“He’s the last living male of the prodigies. Mister Leo Wraithsman. And not just him, either,” Corvus revealed, leaving Emris to sink in surprise.

“Ye’re pullin’ my leg…”

“I’m dead serious.”

The Guardian was left gobsmacked as he took stumbling steps towards the kneeling swordsman, confirming his identity through his armband and that viciously acute look of his.

“And ye’re plannin’ to use him for the war, or what?” Emris said.

“Him and his sister. If only they comply,” Corvus said, placing his sword’s edge on Leo’s shoulder. The Wraithsman looked unfazed, closing his eyes as two Syndies in Nynx suits picked him up on either side.

“His sister, too…? They’re either gettin’ sloppy or ye’re not being too honest with me in trainin’.”

Slotting his blade away, Corvus looked over to the women who had kept the shrewd weapons master at bay. Erica didn’t bother to get off the floor, rolling over to her back to keep her lips off the dry sand. She and the mysterious newcomer seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Corvus smiled.

“In all fairness, I didn’t fight them alone. Those two did most of the work for me,” the angel said, keeping his wings tucked.

Emris raised a brow. “Where’s the gal, then?”

“If judgement serves me right, and my trust isn’t entirely worthless, I’d say she’s off by the wall’s checkpoint. I sent Bruttus to cart her.”

The Brigadier laughed. “Ye’re gettin’ real cocky there, huh? Sendin’ a superior to take yer luggage home. Ye gracious pisspot.”

“Heheh, well, he would do a better job than me, you must admit. And I feel if I had carried her, the dame you brought in might not have been spared,” Corvus jested, nudging his head in Eclipse’s direction.

Emris grumbled, taking a swig.

“Do you think he’ll be okay, sir?” the Celestial looked over at Alpha, who was quickly surrounded by doctors and other medical workers to preserve his life. Ignus had been neglected somewhat, left to lie on his chest over a towel a few feet away. The two soldiers walked on over to inspect the wounded.

“Sir? I’m yer mate. And aye, the old bastard’ll be fine, I think.”

Corvus took a deep breath of air. “Sometimes I forget you’re not just my superior. We should go drinking again, Em. Once all’s settled.”

“Heh, aye. Fancy a whole keg right about now. Oi, Ignus,” Emris said, casting a shadow over his immediate subordinate. The lackey groaned. “Feelin’ like a nap, ye lazy shite?”

“Vicks, you’re heartless, boss. Hah, hahah! ‘Least I didn’t faint. Hey, Avel! AVEL! We’re alive, ya twit! Get the hell up!”

From his place on the sand, one comrade yelled to another. Emris chuckled and Corvus shook his head as Avel groggily sat up from his place.

“Bloody hell, keep it down you jolly prick! Oh, Goddess, my neck! My neck’s been stabbed!” Avel snobbishly moaned, putting pressure around his throat.

Two doctors ran to Avel, halted only as Corvus took the task for himself. Approaching the lancer, he squatted down before placing a hand on the skin of his neck. No more blood rushed down, as the root of his small cuts had coagulated.

“You’re fine. You were only grazed.”

Emris and Ignus laughed. Avel was having none of it.

“You pretentious…! Are you a doctor?! I could be dying!”

“Avel.” The Celestial grabbed his cheeks, giving him a steely look. “You’ll live.”

♦ ♥ ♣ ♠

The grey sands felt warm on her back. Not a great feeling, considering she already felt hot from the risen sun and the feats of her labour, but the tingle of a successful stressful mission being complete kept her happy. To her right, she could see Eclipse sitting on a barrel of supplies, her head resting on her arm and admiring her nails without a care in the world. She looked too comfortable after surviving a battle of war.

Erica looked back up at that clouded sky, laughing quietly to herself. Eclipse’s eyes met her sprawled out body.

“Are you okay there, little angel?” the ex-Dweller said.

“Alive and dandy. You look pleased,” Erica said.

Eclipse sniggered. “Why, yes. We won.”

“And we’re not dead.”

“Some of us weren’t so lucky. May they rest peacefully with Marco Mat—— Victus, that’s it.”

Erica shook her head, the sand crunching under her. “It’s okay, I won’t gut you for saying her name in your culture’s way. It’s interesting. We’re all allies so long as we’re referring to the same Goddess.”

Eclipse smiled, closing her eyes. “Aren’t you just the nicest pup.”

“Mm. Hey, you fought pretty good back there. I wanna say I’d have handled it myself, but we almost lost Avel. I’ll make sure he thanks you.”

“I don’t think it’s necessary. Isn’t it the right thing to do? It’s not as if I went out of my way to do it...”

“And aren’t you just so humble? Don’t be, though. Not a lot of today’s Syndies give it their all, so it’s something to appreciate.”

Watching as the man they fought was chained up and taken away, the ladies gave the swordsman a sharp look.

The exile gave a low titter. “He did make me work quite hard. I’m itchy all over thanks to those swipes of his.”

“Pft, yeah. The ass definitely put a wrench in the works. And we had it all figured out, too. It’s annoying and kind of unnerving when your enemy pulls their ace out of nowhere like that.”

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but don’t you think he was fighting a bit dishonestly?” Eclipse said, to which Erica raised a brow.

“You think so? He gashed my whole freaking face.”

“And yet, is it split open? A true fencer would have used that opportunity to stab our throats or disembowel us. I doubt he’s never done it before, so what gives?”

Erica’s eyes widened. “Shit, you have a point. Maybe he’s the squeamish type?”

“He could be, but I’m not convinced.”

“Your name’s Echo, right?” Erica asked.

“Eclipse.”

“Right, that. What’s it like, anyway? Being a Dweller and all.” Erica snorted. “And why save Emris? Dullard’s your type or something?”

“Not really. I needed an excuse to slip in with the rest of you. Besides, wouldn’t you have?”

The angel woman exhaled. “No? I don’t know. He can kind of save himself.”

“And it’s Denizian, by the way.”

“I know that, but we don’t really respect you guys enough for fancies. A lot of us don’t consider what you got a country. More like squatters in our blind spots,” Erica said, nonchalant. Eclipse cringed.

“Not very delicate with your words, are you?”

“Straight to the point does the job. Besides, you saved my butt. You at least deserve honesty. I don’t like your guys, nor do your guys like us. Sounds fair, right?”

“Well, when you put it like that, all that lovely animosity of yours seems so fluffy...” Eclipse shot back with a fox-like smirk.

“Oh shut up. No need to romanticise what we do. It’s messed up, but we’re not supposed to be saints. Not the Syndicate, anyway.” Eclipse gave a dismissive hum. “You didn’t answer my question. What’s it like being what you are?”

“Setting aside how different you make me seem, I would say it is both satisfying and gritty. We scrape our knees as often as stars blare in the night sky, but we’re… we were all one big family. Tasks were jarring at times but they felt satisfying to complete. Like cleaning your room, except you aren’t the only one fulfilled by it.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As the exile-turned-Syndie explained away her life in that smoothly silver tongue of hers, Erica found herself relaxed, yet she remained stiff. Eclipse shuffled her body in such a way she could get a better look of the Celestial, who covered herself up at the exposure.

“What’s with the look, forest hugger?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re trying to act tough.”

“Wh— What? I’m a Syndie, of course I——”

“Oi,” a gruff voice interjected, belonging to a man of ripped clothes who stood near the two; his arms folded and his jagged teeth on full display. “What the shite was that?”

Putting on that teasing smirk of hers, Eclipse waved her hand and raised her tone. “Now, now. Can’t you see we’re talking here? It’s rude to interrupt, especially with slander, pup.”

The Celestial groaned, sitting up with a slouch and an itchy chin. “Look, if you’re going to blather, don’t bother. My back muscles are wrecked and I could use a massage. Go stand with your boyfriend.”

Emris raised his brow with a snarl, but a toothy grin soon twisted his expression. “Your boyfriend, ye mean.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to speak to your girlfriend? I can leave you two to it——”

Grabbing the lass by her awkwardly designed collar, Emris raised Erica to meet his eyes with the suddenness and fierceness of an upset cougar.

“Keep yer mouth shut if ye don’t want it sewn, hear? Moon’s watchin’ us. Piss ‘er off and I’ll eat yer face.”

Despite feeling her wounds singe her skin, Erica gave the veteran a bold smugness. “Oh, ravage me, puss. You wouldn’t hurt a fellow.”

“I did and I can,” Emris growled.

Rolling her eyes and pushing herself out of his grip, Erica grabbed her head. “Whatever, edgelord. He was half a man anyway.” She snapped her fingers at Eclipse. “Tree hugger. I know it’s not your style, but will you accompany a lady?”

Chuckling at her feigned offence, Eclipse shook her head and leapt from the barrel. “Asked so nicely, who am I to refuse? It was getting hot here anyway.”

Watching the pair walk off with a grimace, Emris turned his head back as a hand dropped on his shoulder.

“Ya can’t please them, boss.” It was Ignus. Emris shook his head.

“Ye should be restin’ up. Yer back’s a bloody mess. Literally”

“Blood’s blood. I’m not losin’ more, so who cares?” Ignus said, sounding like a moody teenager.

Emris laughed in a hum, watching over the mass of soldiers as they drank and ate, many of which singing in celebration or grieving the lost quietly. “Ye did well back there, mate. Alpha owes ye.”

Emris slapped his hand on his bare shoulder, to which he cried out in pain.

“Right on the cut you old bastard!”

Emris only laughed more uproariously, shouting, “Lads and lasses! Victory’s ours!”

A mass of men and women yelled out in a burst of positive emotion. The crowd of folk laughed, and those who cried laughed with them. Sweet, short success. The Crimsons were on the horizon, and with this mess off their shoulders, the Syndicate could now focus its full attention on just that. A wishful thought.

“SIRS!” a voice screeched through the ruckus, robbing Emris of his joyful antics. His body fell to his hands and knees. His breathing was erratic. He sobbed through his helmet, forcing his visor open.

Time stood still and the army fell silent. Corvus approached the man, falling on a knee and putting a hand on his back.

“It’s okay, comrade. It’s over.”

“No, it’s…” the soldier—a royal bodyguard as indicated by the emblem on his gear—choked, pressing a hand on his throat. “The General… He…”

Emris’ eyes widened. He forgot. Kev, where was he?

Grabbing the Celestial’s shoulders, the man raised his gaze. His face was covered with tears and snot. He was devastated.

“The General, he’s been shot dead!”

And in an instant, victory meant so little. Alpha’s life hung on a thread, Syndie corpses littered the battlezone, and now, the most well-respected man in the entirety of not only the Syndicate’s military but quite possibly the whole of the Facility’s workforce had been reported as a casualty.

Voices called out desperately, wanting answers. Some stood stock still. Others dropped to the floor. He may have been just a man, but in many ways, he was considered immortal. Such is the numbing fragility of hope.

The Celestial’s face twisted into one of surprise and horror. “How did…?”

Ignus fell on his knees. “You’ve gotta be joking. A misreport. It has to be, right..?”

“Say it,” Emris demanded, his wide eyes and thin needle pupils defying healthy standards. “Say ye’re full of shit. Say it.”

His voice was terrifying, but lying would do no good. Swallowing his saliva and sucking up to reality, the guard lowered his head.

“I’m sorry… It’s true…”

“Goddamn it what the fuck were you doin’?!” Emris stomped near before ripping the man off the ground with a smash against his chest. The guard’s Nynx suit cracked then and there, and his body was thrown backward. “Ye’re a bodyguard, that’s what ye do! Speak up. What the FUCK, were ye doin’?! Answer the fuckin’ question ye useless sack of shite!”

The Brigadier spewed his poison and foamed from the mouth, held back by a struggling Celestial.

“Calm down, by Victus! Ignus, help me!” Corvus shouted, but the pyro wouldn’t stand up. “For heaven’s sake! Erica!”

She too was awestruck. She hadn’t gone far, and having heard the soldier’s yell, she found herself unable to move her lips. Kev was like a brother or even a father to everyone tormenting these dunes. He was, by all means, the king of this hill.

And yet, another figure sprinted over the uneven sands. As if to add to everyone’s shock, without an ounce of hesitation, the claws of Eclipse glided through Emris’ chest, pulling him to the ground with a thoughtless tackle.

Landing atop of him, she held him down, breathless but unwilling to unhook her legs from the ground.

“I know it hurts, but stay down pup. This isn’t the time,” she whispered.

Corvus didn’t know how to even react. His hand met his sword’s handle, but he didn’t withdraw. Spontaneous and alarming as it was, Eclipse’s risky move was more than effective.

Emris choked on his blood, gargling incoherent nonsense as he endured his lungs being skewered. Looking up at Eclipse’s eyes, his hostility faded away. Her eyes, even under the pressure of pain, looked ethereal and bewitching in so many ways. The fact he didn’t understand made it all the more terrifying.

With his lungs slashed and his lifewater pooling inside them, the brig’s consciousness swiftly faded. Finally, he fell limp. Only then were her claws removed, and as she looked back at the army’s shocked expressions, she noted how despite it all, nobody had moved. Be it the news of Kev’s passing, the boldness of her act or otherwise, nobody stepped in to help him. Just as she suspected.

♦ ♥ ♣ ♠

“I apologise. Anything less and we might have lost another pup.”

“Uh, pup? It’s okay, he can handle it. There’s no guilt.”

“I mean, there is, but you shouldn’t bang your head over it.”

Emris’ forehead was drenched with sweat as his body writhed against his normally lethal wounds. No living being should have to be forced to live through this kind of injury.

“He’s really showing his colours... “

“Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“No, Corvee, look.”

“Oh…”

He felt sick. The kind of chills a fever might bring. A false feeling of cold permeating the body, even if you knew it was boiling where you were.

“Does this mean something?”

“Yeah… Eclipse, could you…?”

The brig couldn’t see a thing. The voices bounced in his ears. He couldn’t discern reality from his mind. He didn’t like it.

“Of course. Right away. I truly am sorry for this.”

“We don’t blame you. Thank you.”

"Corvee…"

"It's okay. I'm not so feeble to deny my emotions. The reminder is quite cruel."

Emris felt paralysed. His heartbeat grew faster as panic set in.

"I need ye… to be quiet…" Emris squeezed out, though he didn't know whether he had actually spoken or imagined he did.

Was he dying? No, it wasn't time for that. He had lived through much worse. It was familiar, this feeling. A suppressed memory, perhaps?

"I just want a drink… Can I have one, Moon…?"

It must have been a fair while since he was knocked out. The army had already mobilised its resources and troops, and few were in sight. Alpha had been carted off to be treated as soon as possible. May Victus spare him. The Syndicate couldn't do without a leader; not now.

Emris' eyes finally pushed open. Goddess, he felt heavy. Sitting up with a wince, he looked around the desertic hellscape. It was blazing. He was sweating profusely. No wonder nobody had carried him — just doing so would kill from heatstroke.

Turning his slow head right, and then to the left, he noticed the angel he had long befriended sitting on his haunches not too far away. Corvus. Could this drunk douchebag possibly ask for a more loyal ally?

" 'C'..." the veteran tried to say, his voice strained from dehydration.

Corvus turned back, giving him a soft smile. "Hey. You're back."

Emris rubbed his head. "Aye, aye. Breathin' and all."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Hard to forget the lass drillin' my guts."

"Heheh, true… At least she didn't aim for the head, right?"

"Aye. Listen, don't… don't punish her, aight? She was just keepin' me from goin' mental," Emris muttered.

"I know. Don't worry, she won't be reprimanded. Though she can expect some looks from her new comrades. I'm sure she'll find respect her way, too."

Emris smirked. "Heh, good for 'er. Glad to see she's gettin' the welcomin' committee sorted out. I was worried she'd never——"

"Emris," Corvus interjected, his tone more severe. "You're stalling for the news, aren't you?"

"...Ye see right through me," the Brigadier said with an exhale.

"While you were out, we… Well, we got a reminder."

A tear fell from the angel's eye sudden as that. He quickly wiped it away. Emris couldn't say a thing. He looked down with a frown.

Corvus stood up, sitting next to the veteran and giving his back a pat.

"The King made a move. Do you think you can push it down for now?"

The question was genuine, and the answer, the veteran did not know. He looked up at that grainy sky, contemplating this hollow victory of theirs.

Corvus feigned a laugh, fighting through his feelings. His voice shook. "You don't have to. I understand if it's too——"

"Shut yer trap, ye dumb horse. When've I not handled things my way, ah?" Emris reassured the Celestial, grabbing his shoulder. "I'll live. I'm still on the clock."

♦ ♥ ♣ ♠

The Mynotaur, mashed and bruised with a disfigured face groaned and moaned as he stirred awake. Left all alone in these ruined ruins, Midas could barely raise an arm to touch his cheeks. They stung like hot coals.

"Argh, brother…!" he yelled, his voice mangled. "Ya three-armed freak! Where… Where are y——"

His arms felt limp by their sides. He was so tired he could fall asleep again, but he had to go back to the battle. He had to make himself useful.

"It's so quiet, damn…" Midas grumbled, his muscles shaking as he brought himself to sit up, a headache striking him as blood rushed down from his head.

"Woah there…" A stroke of heavy-headedness made him lean against an arm. "It's so damn warm…"

His neck tensed and shook as the muscles stressed to lift his head. A light blared into the edges of his peripheral, forcing a whine from his lips.

"Fuckin'... What is…?!"

It was bright as the sun itself, and it stung just as much to look at. This light was impossible to see through, but he could make a vague shape from behind it; like seeing the outline of the sun through its blazing rays.

The bull's eyes clenched as he tried to peek another look. He could barely make it out, but it looked like a person stood behind the white shroud. He also made out the subtle tappings and scratchings of a pen jotting down notes.

Midas wanted to speak, but he couldn't. What a bizarre sight it was. Was he still dreaming, perhaps?

A whole minute must've passed before the silence was cut. The figure spoke.

"You're free to express yourself. We have quite a lot to discuss, you and I."

The voice was a tad shaky, breathy and soothing. A soft speaker with a pinch of nervousness in his gait.

"Who in the fuck' re ya…? Why is it so bright — are me eyes done for?" Midas couldn't even be angry. Whether it was fatigue or genuine confusion, he couldn't worsen his mood like always.

"Your sight is still yours, and it works well. I could appreciate less obscenities. I mean, you have been just so crass during this whole debacle."

Midas dropped on his back again as the man hopped off the wall and walked closer. The feeling, nay, screaming of his instincts nearly drove him mad. Why was he so scared?

"You know, I really thought this little squabble would have been more emotional. Just a bit more connection with your sibling, that's all I wanted. But, somehow, you messed that up."

Midas' breath hitched as his upper left arm suddenly shattered from thin air. The bones broke from the middle, and then each half was split by its own middle, and so on until little more than dust remained under his sinew. Midas let out a gagged howl of pain.

"You berated Bruttus, your flesh and blood, for being handicapped. Don't you feel ashamed?"

As if it wasn't enough, his lower right arm too was shattered. How was this even possible? He hadn't been struck once.

"But no matter. We all reserve the right to correct our transgressions. Just please, please don't disappoint me again. It really messes with my scriptures, you see."

Bone after bone, Midas' body was pulverised. Every time he screamed out in anguish, but the torture wouldn't cease. And yet, every time his body should've collapsed, Midas wasn't granted death. Not even shock induced slumber. His nerves wouldn't adjust to the pain. He felt every little splinter. Every crack. Every snap.