One Last Thing

Bite-Sized, Cautious, Eil, and Silent must have made for a strange band of ragged looking children as they made their way to the institution. Of course, that would depend on if there ever was such a thing as an ordinary band of ragged looking children. Furthermore, if Hasa were to be believed, then the institution would be overwhelmed with strange bands of ragged looking children, all with their horrid little tales of murder, torture, betrayal, and brushes with death. It made their own personal horrors seem trivial when so many had gone through their own. It numbed Eil to the value of his suffering, and he figured that was the point.

“Wait,” Cautious said. It was the first word anyone had said since they’d left Sami to die.

Eil turned in Cautious's direction and found him wanting in presence. Eil wanted to close his eyes deeply, sigh, and ask if they could opt against mutually-assured destruction, but he knew if he tried, he wouldn’t open his eyes again. The desperation of a boy who’d seen too many die, killed too many, and was tired, kicked in. He let go of Bite-Sized who had been leaning on him and Silent, and dove out of the way. He couldn’t tell if Cautious had attempted anything, but he couldn’t risk it.

He rolled to his feet, a tiny cloud of dirt gusting about him. Fortunately, he’d been smart enough not to get rid of his hand-sized plank of wood with the spear’s animating symbol etched into it. He’d forsaken the possibility of being overly cautious some days back. The plank of wood left its imprint on the ground but just as Eil reached to pull the spear from it, his arm was kicked away and he hopped a few steps back lest a greater punishment await.

The sign glowed anyways and Eil realized that Cautious had used Eil's symbol to summon a spear of his own. Cautious had learned, just as Eil had learned, that life and death was a matter of anticipation. In so many ways, Eil hated that he understood the point of the test. They had only survived because Sami had anticipated the prefect’s cruelty. Is that what an animist’s life came down to? Anticipation. In spite of their differences in power, Sami had been the one who lived to see the other die.

Eil reached down to try again but as soon as he pressed the symbol into the dirt, he saw the ground give in where Cautious must have been. Eil hopped back out of what he could only presume was a deadly lunge of the now camouflaged spear.

“You know Cautious. I think you’ve disappointed your aunt.”

“What makes you say that, Magic Boy?” Cautious must have felt awfully comfortable, speaking even as it gave away his position. Eil realized that if he stared hard enough, he could see the hints of something there. He wasn’t seeing through Cautious, he had blended in, not disappeared. This was the thin rope that would allow him to survive, and he'd hold onto it desperately.

“You could have killed me without my ever knowing so.”

He did not have a reply to that, likely because Eil had reached to the ground to attempt another summoning of a spear, and Cautious was determined to make sure it would not happen. He heard Bite-Sized's garbled and subdued scream, the pleading in her eyes for them to stop, especially when they were so close to the institution. Silent regarded them with an emotionless expression, it made it impossible to scrutinize what she thought of this affair.

“I have a theory, Cautious. You were taught to kill, but you never learned to fight.”

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He did not like resting his fate on theories, but he could not see another way out of this. Learning to fight an opponent he could not see was not something Kilo had taught him. He thought about turning tail and running for the institution, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon Bite-Sized and Silent, nor did he trust in Cautious’s mercy should he do so. Eil charged towards him, and saw the boy leave a soft imprint on the ground taking a step back. Cautious had not expected him to charge. He renewed his composure and stepped forward, intent on striking back. But that singular hesitation was enough for Eil to dash to the side and past what he imagined was a lunge on Cautious’s part.

He reached for the ground, taking advantage of the time it would take Cautious to turn and face him, and emerged with a spear in hand. Instinctively, and somewhat encouraged by the obvious steps in front of him, he raised it to protect his heart. Cautious’s spear broke Eil’s in half, but it was enough for Eil to leave unharmed from Cautious’s wrath.

“Pointless. I don’t need to know how to fight if you can’t see me.”

The cycle began again. Eil would attempt to summon another spear, but Cautious would get in his way before the spear could emerge. Cautious grew tired of Eil’s attempts, the next time he tried summoning a spear, Cautious launched his spear towards Eil’s arm. In Eil’s desperation to avoid losing a limb, he pulled away, leaving behind the plank. Eil reached to grab Cautious’s spear, but Cautious once again took advantage of EIl’s own symbol, pulling out the weapon from the dirt, and smashing Eil's spear in half. Eil could not afford to be discouraged and leapt for one of the spots he'd left a symbol on but had been unable to activate thanks to Cautious's perseverance. By the time it emerged, it was shattered once again. He aimlessly tossed both ends where he imagined Cautious was, and amidst that distraction, pulled out another spear from a remnant mark. His aimless toss had been far too aimless because his brand-new spear met the same fate as each before it.

Eil lost his balance this time and fell flatly on his ass, hands on the ground, the point of a spear resting above his heart.

“It’s over,” Cautious said. His mirage vanished. “You said it yourself, you can only manage six of those.” Cautious scoffed. “I can see that look in your eyes. You lied, didn’t you? Can you do seven then, eight? You think that’ll help you any?” He frowned. “You killed a lot of people I cared about. Never once did you show any remorse. Never once did you beg for forgiveness." Cautious reflected on his accusations. "I’m sorry, I couldn’t let this go.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Eil said. “Maybe this is for the best.”

Anger flared in Cautious’s eyes. There wasn’t a smile on Eil’s face. He hadn’t wanted this. But there was a twinkle in his eyes, the twinkle of a boy satisfied with his own ingenuity. From underneath Cautious, over two dozen spears sprung from the ground to impale him in every means possible. He was held bloody and frozen in place, his spear remained an inch from Eil’s heart, and would get no closer.

It had never occured to Cautious how flippantly Eil had been putting symbols on the ground. It had never occured to Cautious how big of a lie Eil had told back at the camp.

Eil pushed himself away from the spear, and vomited before he could help it. He’d seen many ways a human could die, courtesy of his uncle, but he had never seen anything like that before, and he hoped he’d never have to see anything like that again. He gazed back at Cautious only one more time. Cautious never had a chance to stop being angry. He never had a chance to realize he’d lost. Or maybe he was angry because he had realized it in that fleeting moment.

Bite-Sized fell to the ground crying, holding her knees close to her chest. Silent began walking in the direction of the institution. She was right, they did not know how much time they had left, if any.

“We have to go,” he said, standing up. He was afraid of approaching her, or of looking in her eyes. “Do you need any help?” The problem was that she couldn’t talk back. Couldn’t tell him he was disgusting, or cruel, or a monster. He couldn’t retort with a clever barb renouncing his guilt in the matter. Instead, he was left to be cruel to his own self, to assume what their eyes might be saying, and he rarely had a rebuttal for his self-criticism.

Bite-Sized stood up, and focusing on Silent, began marching towards the institution. Eil decided that wasn’t a bad idea, and he too marched on simply staring at Silent’s back.