-||-

A building. A familiar building. A familiar hall. She stood before it.

Of course…even though she had not necessarily the intentions, she still had found herself…gravitating to this very building out of all other buildings in this ruined city. Not that tavern she had once worked at, nor even her the apartment she used to sleep in; rather, the Guild hall…that was the building to which she was so…magnetically attracted as if she were metal.

The Guild hall seemed largely intact…albeit somewhat damaged and burnt in some areas. It appeared that it had been hit by…either a rocket or shell…and had also caught fire. Indeed, if it had not seen better days before, it certainly appeared as such now. The plaza space surrounding it, on the other hand…well, it was in a similar shape, being not necessarily too damaged; although, it was still…desolate; emptier than it used to be.

Nevertheless, there the foreigner stood and stared; static in place. She had approached but…had yet to enter. Lingering…she simply lingered. Technically, she was still very much banned from this Guild branch and was not permitted to enter.

But of course…circumstances have changed since then, significantly so.

Certainly, in stark contrast to all other instances of her being here, she heard not even a single breath emanate from within; as desolate as the rest of this plaza surrounding, it clearly was. She doubted anyone was even in there.

Yet…nevertheless, she stood there…blankly staring at the entrance, flat affect. Yet despite the flatness…she felt strange, oddly so, but…it was difficult for her to truly comprehend. Nervous? Anxious? Tense? She did not know. She simply felt…weird, burny, and tingly…in such a strange and stupid way…despite it all manifesting as various shades of dissociated nothingness.

However, this deliberation did not last. She inhaled a quiet yet deep inhibiting breath…a very filtered and uncomfortable one. She finally approached the entrance…grabbing onto the handle, finicking with it somewhat; realizing it was unlocked, she quickly opened and…stepped right on in, defying her ban.

“Oh…wow, finally decided to enter, huh? And here I thought you were just going to be standing outside with an empty head all day… You know we have gigantic windows for walls, right?” so…rather standoffishly…remarked a familiar voice; yet…perhaps not the familiar voice…she was expecting to hear echoing in this messy and visibly desolate hall.

Standing at the main counter, alone, was…not that main counter receptionist, rather…her peer…whose eyes seemed bagged and pinkly lachrymose; she was exhausted and drained, and it showed.

The peer sighed; “Looky here, guess that means you survived the fire-tide...and I see you’re a Company stooge now…wow, who could’ve seen that coming…” thus she remarked further, still…rather standoffish.

“I…greet you too” the foreigner greeted, her mask-obscured eyes…peering at the peer, before…looking around.

The main hall area seemed to be still protected from the elements outside; thus, although it was messy and dusty…it was largely free from that toxic ash. Indeed, the peer seemed to be…not wearing any protective face-coverings, so it…could be safe enough to remove her own. Albeit the foreigner herself…some of the outside’s ash having been sticking to her…had certainly just brought some in…though, not enough to cause any true problems besides…perhaps slight momentary irritation.

Deciding to keep her own face-covering on, she finally began to make way to the main counter.

The peer rolled her eyes, ughing somewhat as the foreigner approached and halted before the counter. Quickly, the effects were apparent as the peer’s nose started to become…somewhat upset, her throat aheming lightly in irritation—by no means severe nor even mild, but certainly enough to annoy.

“Well aren’t you a walking contaminant…could’ve at least swiped yourself…” the peer remarked…her hand lightly wave-swiping at the air; “sure sure…just scrape off more years of life… ugh this smell sure burns the nose…”

“I thought that it would be better if the ash remained stuck to me instead of…scattered around; I give sorry” the foreigner replied…somewhat apologetically, albeit such was hard to appear as genuine.

The peer’s…momentary symptoms subsided quickly. Her eyes gave the foreigner a cold piercing glare; “Anyway…what do you even want? You know you’re still banned from this branch…right? An alien bombardment doesn’t change that fact…Miss Bureau pet…you’ve already given this branch more than enough bureaucratic trouble…you know?” she remarked even more coldly standoffish.

The peer turned her eyes to the hall around, sighing; “I mean, seriously…look around you, this hall’s practically abandoned besides me and the chief and a few straggling staff…no adventurers, no quests, and more than half of our staff is still…is still…unaccounted for—so yes, please do tell: what could you possibly want with us, Nilia?” she remarked and interrogated with cold antagonism.

The foreigner simply…averted down and away…having not any true answers; “I… do not know” thus she answered, attention returning to the peer; “I just came here; I do not know for what…but I just did” she said…her voice honest, yet also rather empty.

The peer…sighed with a slight irritated ugh, unamused completely, her apparent strong and standoffish antagonism…masking the suppressed turmoil raging within; indeed, such was becoming rather evident in her body language and especially tone of voice.

The foreigner tilted her head ever-slightly…her mask-obscured eyes evaluating; “…you do not look to be fine” she remarked in observation.

The peer tsked more audibly, yet averted her eyes; “As I said…if you were paying any mind…we are missing more than half of our staff and…none of our members have shown up…most either died in the fires or probably fucked off to some other branch like fleeing cowards”—her eyes only became more evasive—“or…a few are actually…still helping around…doing something…”—she ahemed, eyes glaring once again—“but, point being: this branch’s practically dead right now…and thus…basically the entire Guild in all the northwest coast…” she replied…bluntly and standoffishly.

Yet the peer’s eyes…retreated from their glare, becoming more evasive yet again.

“Only…reason why I’m still here is because…I don’t have a home anymore and I never had a family to care about…I was just some bitchy orphan plucked from the streets who talked more meat than had… I was standing right here when it all happened…and I did Gods’ ever-fucked-all nothing but hide under the counter while everyone else, adventurer and staff, scrambled to do something or run away or do something!” she let-out further…becoming rather agitated…as she began to nibble at her thumb’s nail; in fact, all of her fingernails…seemed to have had better days.

She quickly ‘calmed’, however; “So yeah, I’ve just been here…standing alone doing nothing…since that’s all I’m good for, wasting my time in the kitchen, wasting my time being a good-at-nothing lazy bitch who always had everyone else do my shit…ugh…”

Truly, the peer’s voice was so…atypical, never mind her behavior. Riddled with such utter…self-contempt…and so much bitterness, anger, frustration, and…sorrow, all of which only seemed barely contained and suppressed within that enforced hardened shell.

The foreigner tilted her head slightly; “Alone? This entire time? What about the…ehm…the the… other… one…” she inquired…strugglingly so.

The peer’s nibble instantly became a hardened bite of her nail, tsking; “She has a name, you know!” thus she suddenly snapped with rather the voice, her eyes glaring. “Considering how much she…dolled over you and how frequent you two spoke, she surely must have told you at least once, so…so don’t fucking tell me you don’t even remember her fucking name!” her voice snapped further, breaths breathing in and out…jaws trembling slightly, affect overloading within.

The foreigner…averted down somewhat; “…probably, you are correct; I just was…not with the attention or giving mind” she stated…honestly and bluntly…though perhaps a bit too cold and flat affect. Her mask-obscured eyes reverted their gaze, looking into the peer’s own staring glare. The peer’s angered eyes had only worsened; clearly, she was…beyond simply aggravated deep down within.

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

Although the foreigner herself was detached and aloof to her own experiences, she could still be observant and analytical when it came to others; after all, such affairs were half empathy and half science…even if not exactly her domain.

The foreigner lightly sighed; “You can hate me. You can despise me. You can throw rocks at me. I am used to it…” thus she stated more firmly, “but just tell me: what happened? Because it is clear to me that something happened, and that it is not me who is giving you this…anger…in truth”.

The peer…paused somewhat, her aggravated eyes and demeanor…calming to a degree…as she inhaled and exhaled, breathing…eyes evading. An awkward silence ensued, the peer…nibbling on her fingernails…as thoughts organized themselves.

“Lavender…” the peer finally broke the silence, “that’s her name…she was named after her hair…that’s how names are…commonly given in these lands…eyes or hair…”

The foreigner looked at her with a very slight tilt; “…‘Lavender’…did you say now? Hmm…” she mumbled out.

The peer sighed, eyes looking down and away before returning back to her; “Yeah. I did. And Lavender hasn’t been seen since the attack” she replied…rather matter-of-factly.

The foreigner tilted her head ever-more; “Huh?” her breaths blurted out.

“Yeah, ‘Huh?’…great response…” the still standoffish peer sarcastically replied…somewhat mockingly so, before continuing on.

“She took an early leave that day… wanted to spend Summer’s night with her husband… supposed to be a ‘spousal reconciliation’ outing—her words, not mine—since they were…having problems, lots of problems…so she wanted to spend some actual time with him…for once… just the two of them like the earlier days… said that she was going to spend the coin to go to the…big and fancy festives, like everyone else…which were…in…in the inner-city” she explained…with suppressed affect, pausing momentarily; “and…well…as you must surely know…not many actually made it out of the inner-walls…”

The peer paused again briefly, crushing any dissenting affect deep within. “So yeah, she’s probably a pile of ash now” thus she stated ever-so bluntly.

« … » the foreigner, hearing this, stared…as everything so abruptly froze and flattened deep down within, cold inhibition taking hold. “Oh. I see.” she so flatly blurted in reply.

“Yeah, ‘you see’…peh” the peer replied with…mocking scorn, before…turning quiet with evading eyes, sighing; “It…may not have looked like it, but…I… I was her…supervisor; she was my…subordinate; she was…my…responsibility. And…and this has not…been the first time…this has happened to me… might seem strange, but our profession’s not…exactly as safe as it looks…” she said, before…taking a moment’s pause again. “So yeah, I’m bitter and don’t want to deal with you… or…or anything right now…so please…just leave” she bluntly requested, clearly trying to keep it all detained within.

The foreigner silently stood…having nothing really to say. Denizens perished and died all the time. She had seen such a plenty the past month alone, never mind every other time ever before; she ought not to feel anything different about this denizen compared to the rest…even if she had…interacted with this denizen…more than others…and…knew this one…nominally better…

Yet…strange feelings. Very strange feelings took hold; a weird strangeness that had triggered an immediate reactive inhibition and detachment… yet she could not really process or feelingly feel…any of it.

“I see. That is…unfortunate to hear” she finally replied…rather flatly, before…she took out her pocket-watch…eyeing the time. The hand was now…already nearing half past ten; of course…she had lost track of time during her observing stroll. Truly, this primitive clock was rather handy. “Well, I have start leaving…anyway or I will…be late; so, I will…take my leave, then” she said, before turning around and made way to depart.

Yet the peer…stared as she did so…sudden thoughts entering mind; “…wait…wait, wait, hold a few” thus her voice suddenly called from behind.

The foreigner halted and turned around, staring with a slight tilt.

The peer…took a moment, before finally continuing; “You’re…you’re a Company volunteer, rightly?–or I mean clearly, armband—ahem: but…you are…you’re most likely here for…the entry into the…inner-walls, rightly?” she inquired, the foreigner simply nodding “…yes?”

The peer lightly nodded away…collecting her thoughts. “Well…uhm…there are…a lot of fellow receptiladies…who are missing; a lot of them…either lived beyond the inner-walls or were…at the festives there…and I…we…know that…they are…dead…nothing but ash, otherwise they would’ve checked in by now—Guild policy…requires that” thus she said, suppressing any tearful affect; “but if you…stumble upon any…Guild collar amulets—you know, like the one I’m wearing right now… could you…collect them and…return them here?” she finally…asked.

The foreigner stared…rather blankly.

The peer sighed; “I know, I know…I’m a bitch…it’s just how I am…and I know you’re still banned from this branch and quite frankly we still don’t…really want anything to do with you and whatever the Bureau has in mind…and so there’s no pay or any of that…but…it would…mean a lot to us…to me…if you could…do that” she said further…her voice sincere even if suppressed.

Her voice paused for a short moment, her thoughts…recollecting.

“I heard that…in Far Western armies…they give their soldiers these…special…tags…you know, to keep on them…in order to identify their bodies…in case they get messed up real bad… Those amulets, they are kind of like that for us and were designed to—and it may not look like it—but…but they can handle a lot…so they should’ve survived if nothing else…” she added.

Hearing that explanation alone made the foreigner’s response…a predetermined outcome, for she understood very well…the significances and meaning of such things.

“Of course” thus the foreigner replied; “I will return every one that I find so that you may be…reunited with all those who have been lost…” she said…rather solemnly, even if somewhat flatly.

The peer…stared with a slight tilt…as if she was surprised by the foreigner’s lack of hesitation in accepting this…especially considering her attitude moments earlier.

She…hehed in a faint chuckle; “Wow…look at you, give you a month break and suddenly you speak our tongue…a little better” she remarked…slightly more cordially…before evading her eyes slightly; “thanks…in advance, I guess, but just…don’t leave me with expectations only to receive…nothing” thus she said…rather lowly.

-||-

Standing; organized and segmented. Volunteers and Company soldiers stood, equipt and readied; wagons prepared with supplies, large empty crates, and…special cloth wrapping—a lot of it. Before their eyes stood the battered inner-walls and their…rather thick metallic gates—no wonder the fire-tide could not get through.

All of the volunteers were now wearing these…full-covering hooded and sleeved cloaks provided by the Company. Black and thick, and ostensibly meant to protect the clothing and exposed skin underneath; likewise, they were provided thick gloves to go along in kind. Rather the tedious things to don, these cloaks were, not helped by the fact that volunteer armbands were required to be visible, thus requiring their armband’s removal…only to be put back on once the cloak was donned.

The Company soldiers and sappers, on the other hand, did not seem to have any such protective cloaks. Instead, they were all wearing these long coats of sorts—ones meant for harsh winters, seemingly—over their attire and had more stringent facial protections. Quite frankly, it was hard to know if this…divergence was a statement for their winter-coats’ protective capabilities or…a statement against the volunteers’ provided cloaks.

Nevertheless, everyone had their share of precautions—even the equines driving the wagons behind were wearing their own…equine-befitting protections, which they had not taken too kindly to initially.

The immediate areas of the outskirts bordering the inner-walls had long been cleared of denizens. It was just them. Many were nervous; many were eager; many were dread-filled; all knew that going past those gates…would lower their lifespans, forever haunting their future’s fates.

A Company officer…a caped one at that, stood in front. His eyes watched his pocket-watch in hand; despite everyone and everything being prepared and readied, the operation would only begin at the designated clock—neither later nor earlier.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The clock ticked and tocked, turning and motioning…before finally, the hand reached…twelve o’clock.

“[Alright! Time! Open the gates! Everyone, be ready!]” the officer’s facemask-muffled voice shouted, his hand motioning straight up into the air in waving declare.

Promptly, Company soldiers responded as the thick metallic gate began to be pulled and turned…making rather the noise as it did so; slowly but surely opening, before…with one final decisive creak…all that which laid behind was suddenly revealed for all staring eyes, soft ash-dusty winds blowing in.

The officer…paused in a freeze…as his goggled eyes stared; as all eyes that could see…stared in equal freeze.

An endless dune of rubble, debris, and ash; such was all that could be seen. No standing buildings nor structures, besides blunt foundations. A once vibrant urban sea…so thoroughly reduced to a flattened wasteland…of toxic ash and…

Bodies.

So…many…charred bodies…littered everywhere in such large mass; hundreds…thousands…a seemingly uncountable many. Adults, children, all who had been clamoring and trying to escape…trapped…charred and devoured alive…all at once…

All…truly struggled…to grasp what their eyes were even seeing, minds…trying to comprehend.

A volunteer fell to the ground…breaking down completely; “I can’t… I can’t keep doing this I can’t keep doing this I can’t keep doing this! Too much! This is too much…this is too much!” she cried, almost vomiting into her facemask; she was not alone, even if still only a few.

The Company soldiers too…were clearly affected.

“[Hey, hey, hey…]” one mumbled to another, “[did…did we really do all of that?]”

“[I guess so…]” the other replied, as many alien voices began to flare.

“[Our Lord’s Son in Heaven above…this is…this is worse than what the ballooneers had told! Much worse…]”

“[I suppose…we know now why they were so quiet about what they had seen…]”

“[…is this the future of war, now?]”

“[What even is the future of war anymore…]”

The foreigner remained silent and flat; she had even worse sights engraved in both essence and mind. Though, such was not to imply…she was not affected deep down within, even if…she could not comprehend it.

“[All of you stand with attention and halt…]” so suddenly ordered the overseeing officer, another repeating in local tongue; “[Do not enter or touch anything yet. Let those photographers set themselves to test their new device… and let them engrave into every eye across every nation from the mainland to the New World…this atrocity before our very eyes]” he stated in command, his cold hardened voice masking absolute ire.