Mir Scarletite Bel'Jarad was the last princess of the sand kingdom of Jarad. She had given up her heritage and throne to remodel the government away from autocracy. She also fought in the Second War of Gods and acted as a healer, a beacon of life to those suffering pain and death. She was also a lesser known singer, whose kindness seeped into souls from her carried tunes.
Four days after the end of the war and in midst of celebrations and reconstruction of Aleynonlia, she stood on stage beside Saix. The man played a long melody of lost and recuperation to which she lent her voice. Together, they were a force of nature, a wind swept tragedy post storm where the Twins shone brightly in the sky to share their warmth of the dying and the damned. The workers on the scaffolds paused with load on shoulders to listen. The crying stopped their tears to slack. The wind whistled through the city centre, crying with it the scent of the world.
Shimona stood within the crowd looking up to the stage and wondered how strong was the woman to give up family, power, and wealth, all to help lead five countries together through the darkest of times on shoulders that looked too frail to hold water, let alone the weight of the world. Her singing was bright but sombre, a sad light to guide the post-war in tumultuous time. As the music slowed to a death and the celebrations quietened with it, the world looked on solemnly to the former world leader for her words of wisdom. Wisdom from one too young to be carrying them.
“I'm sorry,” Scarletite announced. “My father started this war, even if he did not know what he was getting the world into. Another desperate grasp for power by a man whom saw the legacy he was about to leave behind and wanted no less than to prolong the image of his divine status.” The crowd was hushed, listening in rapture. She continued, “There are no destined rulers or prophesied heroes. Only what legends make of great people who stood for those that could not stand themselves. And as long as we are here, we'll continue to stand in the places that you can't. We'll fight the fights that you will lose. In return, I hope all of you will promise us one thing. Lead happy lives. Be brave. And whatever you do, don't ever stop caring.”
*****
Water dripped onto Shimona's cheek, waking her to the drizzling rain and bright light of the sky. Her body felt stiff and she could feel the great weight of the world on her. It was not long before she got the idea that the weight might be literal.
“Morning,” Shichi's voice cracked as he greeted.
She turned her head towards his voice and immediately was shocked back into their predicament.
Currents of electricity sparked off Shichi's body as his magic circuits glowed brightly on both his forearms. Standing in a backbreaking pose, he held the entire beam that supported what was left of the ceiling across his shoulders. Rainwater ran off the roof and was pouring around him as each arc of his electricity jumped from point to point. The building must have collapsed on her after she had pushed the man out of the way and he had ran in to act as a human pillar.
“Chi-chi... what?” Shimona could not get a question out.
Her friend's face was scrunched up, hiding what must be unbearable pain of holding up the literal weight of a building. “It's... no big deal,” he nonchalantly replied with a heaved grin.
Shichi was reinforcing himself with his magic to hold up the structure and his body must be ripping apart from the power surging through him. If they did not get out of their predicament soon, his body could be irreparably damage from the prolonged enhancement.
“No. No no no...” Shimona panic, frantically trying to get up.
But she could not move either, and she slowly realised her lower half was pinned under a fallen piece of wall. She could not feel any pain in her legs and assumed it was fine, albeit trapped.
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She tried to regain calm and reassured Shichi, “Hang on. I'll get us out of here.”
Placing both hands under the stone wall, she pulled up. But the debris would not budge. She tried to move left and right, to push and shift. Nothing worked. The weight of the structure was more than she could handle.
“Oh Titans...” she muttered woefully. “Hang on. I'll use magic.”
Shichi simply grunted, “No rush.”
Thankfully, the rain provided plenty of water for her to work with. She envisioned two ice spike to protrude out around him to hold the roof for him to escape, and another set to lift the wall off her. They would have to be thick, and reinforced with as much rubble as she could pull together. As she was not as adeptly trained in creating ice, the act would likely drain her of all the magic she has. But she had to try. There were no unspawns around, but with Shichi letting off constant magical charges, it might not be long before the creatures were attracted to their location.
Concentrating, she gathered up focus to cast the spell. It would be an instant of power and she would have to prepare her body for the exertion. Releasing a breath, she pulled at her magic circuits.
A piercing pain shot up her left thigh and into her spine. Her body arced back and she let out a scream of pain. In an instant, she blasted away all the liquid in a dome around her, creating a split second of dry temperance before new rain fell back into the area. It felt as if a needle had been threaded through her body and for a moment, she was certain she would pass out again from the pain. Everything burnt as the magic rejected itself and blasted back into her body.
“Shimona!” Shichi grunted.
The pain dissipated and she was left a panting heat. Her magic circuits – which was on her thigh – must have been damaged under the rubble. To what extent, she did not know, but it was unlikely she could summon enough power from it any time soon.
Still worried, Shichi asked again, “Shimona?”
“I'm... fine...” she heaved out.“But I don't think I'm getting us out of here.”
She tried to pull her leg away, and it occurred to her that since she could not feel it, the circulation might have been cut off. Amputation came immediately to her mind, though her immediate worry was that her circuits had malfunctioned, and spells would be the last thing she could do.
He sighed understandingly. “Okay. Just don't... push yourself. If you die... I'm next, you know?” He cracked a smile.
She looked around them at the collapsed building. “Where's the guy I pushed away?”
“Getting help,” he curtly replied and grimaced as another surge of energy sparked off him.
“So our survival depends on a guy we don't know?”
“Isn't it always?”
She let out a pained laugh before falling into silence between them. Partly because she did not want to distract Shichi from his excruciating task, but also because she felt guilty. She wondered if that was how they die, buried under a building with no way of helping themselves or each other. She had so much she wanted to do, mostly with visiting Jarad. But also, she wanted to get into a position to help people on a larger scale like her hero, the princess. Yet, all her goals paled in comparison to what Shichi was about to lose. She knew her friend wanted to clear his family of their stained name, and to help rebuild his ancestral home. He carried the weight of his lineage on his shoulders, and now, was ironically about to crushed by someone else's house.
If she had not been so hot headed as to rush in to save the stranger, they would not be in the predicament they were in. She was responsible for putting their lives in jeopardy.
Shichi quietly said, “It's okay. It's... not your fault.”
“What?”
“We save lives. That's... what we do. Stand for those... that can't stand... themselves.”
She nodded quietly, staring at him with tears welling. “On the bright side, you'll definitely live longer than me.”
He gave a dry laugh and continued. “Can you... talk to me? Distract me... from the pain?”
“W-what do you want to talk about?”
“Tell me...” he groaned again as sparks flew, this time much more violently, jumping around his body. “Tell me about Jarad.”
She let out a short laugh as well. Admittedly, despite being crazed about the desert country, her only knowledge of it was what she read from books and heard from Enneya. She knew in reality that the country was probably filled with its own turmoil, and the lives of the people there were individualistic in a way that her copied text could never match up to. But she liked the dream. The dream of a people so sturdy and strong as to survive in a land where nothing exists. A legacy so willed that it produced heroes of their ages. It was a pretty picture painted over broken walls, and Shimona enjoyed that fiction greatly. It gave her strength that in the harshest of times, hope lived on.