Chapter 2
The Broken
The sound of the surf echoed against the rocks. Seafoam sprayed on the dusty glass panes, most having not been cleaned in weeks. In the sky above, clouds had gathered, offering a more dismal look to the town than any that had been there before. The sea, itself, turned gray, with mist rising off the falls that were encroaching upon that small coastal town.
All else was silent.
There was no tinkering or banging. No sounds of the hustle and bustle outside the garage. It was a ghost town with nothing remaining. No sign of life or happiness in what was once a vibrant port.
It reflected exactly how Meredith Childs felt, seated on her wheelchair, staring out the window. Her mat of black hair, having grown just a little in the absence of maintenance, threatened to have some bangs fall in front of her eyes, impeding her observations of the dead coast outside her childhood room. Her green eyes, however, didn’t care. They stared without seeing, dull where once there was the effervescence of life.
“Mera,” a voice said from the door to her room. She didn’t turn right away, but her mother called to her once more. “Miss Emily and the town doctor are here.”
“Yeah…” she said, her voice cracking from its disuse. Her hoarse, ripped throat issued a cough, and Meredith turned her wheelchair around to find she wasn’t alone in the room. Her mother had stepped in, watching her. It was clear there were no words to say, or that she didn’t know what to say, but Meredith supposed she could appreciate the fact that her mother was looking out for her.
Also in the room was Emily Swanson, the former lieutenant of Tempest Squad…her brother’s squad. Like Meredith herself, her red hair had been cut short, rough around the edges and suppressing a rage underneath her gentle exterior. Meredith understood, but had neither the will nor the strength to offer the young woman anything in the way of condolences. With her was the town doctor, an entire sack of things on his back. He looked hurried, but was diligent enough to be careful while he kneeled by Meredith’s legs.
“They’re looking healthy,” he muttered to her. She nodded, and soon felt the warmth that was Emily’s Healing Magic, coursing around her legs. They didn’t twinge with pain or sensation, other than when the doctor knocked against her knees, but it was minor at best. “A month’s work, Meredith. Let’s just hope your muscles haven’t atrophied.”
“I’ve been making sure she works them,” her mother said. Meredith once more nodded, confirming her mother’s words. A hand was on Meredith’s back, Emily’s, and the smile she gave was like a request to stand. The doctor backed up.
“Well, I think we can make today the day. Miss Swanson, your magic has been instrumental in repairing Meredith’s fractured bones. They appear to have healed.” Meredith would have scoffed, but decided against it. The doctor thumped her leg, and it felt…normal. If anything could be normal anymore. “Well, let’s have you stand.”
Meredith didn’t want to. Not at first. Part of her just wanted to sit there. Waste away. She was fine with that. But Emily’s hand was there, and her mother’s eyes were on her. “Move forward,” they were saying. Her lips twitched, and she slid her right leg off the wheelchair. It groaned a bit, but by the time her foot had touched to the floor, it had stopped. Her hands gripped to the armrests, and Meredith pushed her body up. Her legs groaned again, the sound issuing from her mouth in a hiss, but eventually, she came to stand under her own volition.
“Walk towards me, Mera,” her mother said. Meredith glanced down, to where her feet were stuck to the floor. Her body was supporting its own weight, something she hadn’t remembered feeling in a month. Not since her legs had all but shattered. Looking at them, the muscles seemed tight, but functional, and she obeyed her mother, walking over to her embrace. “Better?”
She didn’t answer, but the doctor didn’t need her to.
“And life goes on,” he said with a chuckle. It was humorless and dry, but the doctor was still kind, in his own way. “You see, Meredith. You healed, in time. You just had to let yourself.”
“If only time was all it took,” Emily said. She left the room right after saying it, not even wishing to receive thanks, if Meredith knew the lieutenant.
“Doctor, I know you’re hitting the road, but do you have any suggestions for Mera’s continued recovery?” her mother could be heard asking. She’d let go of her daughter, allowing her to stand on her own. Abandoned to her own devices, Meredith walked forward, shuffling along her carpet at first, but soon finding a sturdier gait as she reached her desk and the window it was in front of.
“She just needs to keep them moving. Go for a walk, perhaps. The sea breeze would do her good, I think…or what’s left of it,” the doctor said. Meredith found her head falling again, eyes washing over the contents of her desk, cluttered and dusty. “Of course…I don’t think her legs were the problem. I think…”
On instinct, Meredith’s hand pounded her desk, sending its contents jumping. The adults flinched.
“Well, in any case, when is your family planning on leaving?”
“I’m afraid, doctor, that we’re staying until the end. As long as the Corps and people with skyships need us, we’ll be here. People need a home to return to.”
Whatever conversation they had faded into silence within Meredith’s ears. She didn’t want to hear anymore. Not about the end of the world, or the mass abandonment. She didn’t want to think, or feel or know how anyone else was doing the same. To distract her, she looked to her desk.
Papers were crumpled all over it, attempts at writing letters she’d never send. New designs for a sword were drawn up, but discarded, dated that month ago, from when she’d first come back to Lumarina. There was no point to coming up with another one. Her hand brushed it aside, pushing the sheet into her wastebasket, right next to her current rust-eaten sword. It unveiled a picture she most didn’t want to see: her and her brother, smiling.
She wanted to smash it until there was nothing left.
“The Montgomerys are finally closing up shop, huh?” Her mother’s words caused Meredith to turn rapidly. Her legs gratefully didn’t give out, though she held to the table for good measure. “I’m surprised they didn’t leave earlier, after…”
“They’re stronger than most give them credit for. Turning away hungry mouths wasn’t something…” Meredith’s mother went silent as her daughter raced from the room. There was a burning in Meredith’s legs as she started to run, but that burning, like everything else inside, began to fade. It was replaced with speed, banging into her family’s garage. Those few mechanics that remained looked up, calling to her upon seeing her on her own two feet. Her father also sat up, but she had no time for him. Her legs carried her out on the streets of Lumarina.
It had been almost a week since she’d been wheeled out there, and even in that short time, the streets had grown yet more desolate. Litter was scattered on the cobblestones, and the beach had plenty of objects that washed upon its shore. Buildings were locked up, some of them boarded to suggest their owners weren’t coming back. Meredith’s body sagged on seeing that. When she’d first heard of the exodus from town, she hadn’t wanted to believe it, but seeing the evidence so stark now reminded Meredith of where the world was heading. Her legs wanted to give out again, insisting she go back to her room, curl up and shut out the world.
Her mind wouldn’t let her.
Minor steps put her forward, her sight taking in all of what remained of Lumarina. Only two buildings had any real activity: her parents’ garage and that of the local Guardian Corps garrison. Her mouth scoffed. What a joke that all was.
There was no more Guardian Corps. Just a bunch of survivors who managed to bring themselves to one place.
It was made more evident by her walk through the town.
Where once there were street vendors, stalls were left, some having cracked and snapped thanks to a few of the storms that had rolled across the port town in the last month. Many buildings, from lodgings to stores, to the harbor company, were all closed down. Not a single person was left to run them. The road, too, showed evidence of the flight from town. What used to be beautiful cobblestone was now chipped and broken up from the heavy machinery or carts that had been dragged across it.
The dull roar that Meredith had never heard elsewhere was another sign of just how much the world and her hometown had changed.
Meredith’s feet came to a stop outside one of the larger buildings in the front of town. The sea breeze wafted over her, carrying her hair with it. The strands covered her eyes, nearly finding themselves in her mouth. It was two stories, one for the most delicious food in town, and another to house the most loving family she’d ever known. A place for warmth, happiness and gathering. She could still picture it, with its tiny lights on a humid night, and the trellis of vines climbing up to his room.
That trellis was dead now. No more lights were on.
She turned away, hearing the click of the door that led into the restaurant.
“Meredith.” Mrs. Montgomery’s voice put pause to her steps, and she turned back. At the exit from the diner were the Montgomerys, dressed for a journey north, with all their utensils and packing gear dragged alongside them. There was another suitcase in Mr. Montgomery’s hand, hastily packed, and a familiar shirt Meredith had seen him once wear poking out of its outline. Not wanting to look further, Meredith glanced up to Mrs. Montgomery. The woman’s eyes were red, the tears still visible underneath the strength she used to prop herself up. “You’re standing again.”
The words choked in her throat.
Before she knew it, the suitcases were dropped, and a pair of arms had hugged her tight. Meredith didn’t know what to think or feel, other than that she didn’t want to do either of those things. She reached up, gripping to the mother’s sleeves and holding back the emotions inside her. “Mrs. Montgomery…I…I…”
The words wouldn’t break free, and Mrs. Montgomery didn’t expect them to. She just held her there.
“Honey, we should probably get going.” Her husband was gentle, and not at all insistent, allowing his wife to take her time in bringing herself away from Meredith. “Mera…I’m…”
Meredith shook her head. There was a moment of confidence, looking at the Montgomerys, and then the wall fell down, the tears trickling past. “I’m sorry. I’m…I’m so…”
“Mera…” They didn’t know what to really say, or what could be said. The loss hung between them, choking the air. Before Meredith could process anything else, the parents had thrown their arms around her once more. She could feel tears staining her shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“But I…”
“But nothing, young lady,” Mr. Montgomery insisted. He was the first to pull back, holding to her shoulders while he looked her in the eyes. “You were more than he ever could have asked for. Gave him more than anyone could have asked for.”
“But I failed.” The words, a tacit admission of regret, hit Meredith as she spoke them. Her legs were ready to fall away again. “I couldn’t protect him. I…”
“Mera, sweetie,” Mrs. Montgomery said. She, too, pulled away, and underneath the tears and pain was a woman unyielding. A woman determined to stand and move forward. “You did all you could. You were his best friend, and none better. There is nothing to blame yourself for.”
Meredith heard the words, and wanted to believe them, but couldn’t. All she saw, looking into the eyes of the bereaved parents, was pain. Endless pain. How could they keep going with all that? How could their souls find rest? How could anyone?
“He’s gone, Meredith,” Mr. Montgomery said, and she heard him, but didn’t fully listen. “It hurts us…rips the soul raw. I can’t even bear to look at the restaurant anymore, knowing he won’t come home. Knowing he…
“But don’t let it stop you from standing. Move forward. He…Eddie would want that.”
The name cut. Like nothing else, the name she’d been avoiding for a month, the one she hadn’t wanted to speak or hear aloud, bore deep inside her soul and tore it from within. She didn’t want to hear that name again. Didn’t want to feel that pain.
Move forward? It was a joke.
There was no moving forward. Not now.
Live, Meredith Childs. You need to live. Promise me.
Meredith shook her head in an attempt to remove the reminder of the words that meant nothing.
She could move her legs, but she didn’t want to stand.
“It’s your choice, Mera,” Eddie’s mother finally said, picking her bags and suitcases up again, “but…I don’t think his soul will be able to rest, be saved, unless he knows you’ve found peace.”
“How can I…?” She didn’t finish. Meredith did, however, look up. “Where will you be going?”
“To the Metropolis, with the rest. We’ll visit his grave on the way out of town. You should, too. For us.”
“I’ll…I’ll try…” Words were meaningless. What else could be said to those so grief-stricken? The Montgomerys had nothing left, and they said goodbye, walking away from her. She watched them go, their backs retreating like everyone else’s. Like her brother. Like her mentor. Like her two friends.
Like Eddie.
Meredith was left standing alone in the middle of an empty street, listening to the crashing waves try to fill the gnawing emptiness inside of her. Regardless of the soothing words the parents had given her, she couldn’t accept them. They were mere platitudes, devoid of meaning when the entire world had fallen around her.
Save his soul? What is there left to save?
There was also another question that dug into her very skin while her feet continued through Lumarina and its empty corridors. It was one she hated to acknowledge, because it meant acknowledging that failure and contradiction of all she had been. Yet when she came to the edge of town, bordering the sea, it was on her lips. It soon slipped from there, lost to the waves.
“Why does it hurt so damn much?”
The sea gave no answers.
From her perch, alone on the sea, she could see the edge of the world. It was shrouded in mist, and the crashing falls that spelled the end of their planet could be heard. That was a place none made it past. None had survived or found a way to break through, and with it coming closer to consuming their town, Meredith knew this spelled the end.
Terrill Jacobs had sacrificed himself for nothing.
Meredith kicked at the stones, tossing them over to the ocean. All of it. It was all for nothing. Not Eddie’s death, or Terrill’s life, or the time she spent in the Guardian Corps. Everything about it was a joke. She’d been such a fool.
Not wanting to offer the sea any more of her reflections, Meredith prepared to retreat back to her room when she saw the cliff, the same as it ever was. Pieces of stone and dirt crumbled into the churning sea, and at the top was a lone stone marker.
You should, too.
Meredith didn’t want to. She really didn’t. Before her mind could tell her body otherwise, however, her feet were trudging up there. They trembled with every step in that direction, but held throughout Lumarina. It was only when she had left the outskirts of town, on to the grassy plains and up the hill, that her knees knocked together so much she nearly collapsed under her own weight.
That hill felt like the most arduous trek her legs would ever make. Not because of their month in stasis, but for what awaited at the end. She didn’t want to go there, but her legs wouldn’t stop. Even when her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, and vomit rose within her throat, she didn’t stop.
She was simultaneously afraid to move forward and afraid to turn back.
That fear held on to her until she reached the crest of the hill, and the cliff that overlooked the waters below. The stone marker sat there, adorned with small flowers from the parents that had just departed. There was a name etched in it, but not one she wanted to read. Holding back the urge to puke, she walked to the edge of the cliff, and looked down.
Still below the water’s surface was a skyship, much of its paint and the Guardian Corps’ insignia chipped away and washing with the ebb and flow of the tides. Like the organization it once served, it was dying; nothing more than a relic. Meredith chose to not look, facing to the lonely grave that was well-maintained but forlorn all the same.
EDWIN MONTGOMERY
Beloved Son. Loyal Friend.
Meredith’s steps were shaky, approaching the epitaph, but before she made it, those same legs gave out. Her knees hit the grass, while her hand slapped against the top of the grave.
Loyalty.
That word, and so many others, had burned themselves into her. In one way or another, they were a brand and whip, lashing against her. The full brunt of pain coalesced inside her, and Meredith’s palm coiled to a fist, beating upon the rock there. Some part of her hoped that maybe by doing this, she could change something. Anything.
But you can’t change anything…
Her own thoughts were poisonous to her, and before she could restrain it, a scream emerged from her lips. It was pained, caught between the tears as she continued to strike the stone.
“Why? Why him?!” she screamed, the words finally finding themselves loose for the first time in a month. “Why Eddie?! Why…why not me…?”
Her hand was weak now, blood and bruises on it while it slid off his grave. She fell back, still on her knees as her eyes turned to the gray sky.
A month.
It had been a whole month since her friend had disappeared. No…since his soul had been stolen by the Reaper. By Marcus.
Every time she thought about it was a lash against her very soul.
Everything had been taken by him. Her best friend. Her admiration. Her brother. Her dream, itself. True to his moniker, he had reaped the very air around her and left her empty. There was nothing left to strive for; no dream left to pursue. They had had little choice but to retreat to her home, trying to gather up those few Guardians that remained, but it all seemed so pointless to Meredith.
She must have been pointless. It was the only explanation for her other friends to have left, gone back to their own homes. All she’d been left with were her thoughts and regrets, unable to move forward…if there was any meaning to moving forward.
A soft rustle of grass pulled Meredith back down to the ground, and she stared to the other side of the grave, surprised at who was standing there. He didn’t say a word. Not at first, leastways. The man merely walked around to place a bundle of flowers at the grave before he sat next to her, crossing his legs. The surf interceded between them.
Together, they sat there, listening to the waves in the desolate town they belonged to. Neither moved, or made to move. It was just them, the sea and the grave of flowers before them. Meredith appreciated that silence, even if she didn’t use it to think. Eventually, Captain Clive cleared his throat.
“I see you’re on your legs again, Little Meredith,” the captain said. Meredith brought her eyes from whatever space she was looking out at to watch the captain. Not that he was a captain anymore. There was no such thing. He still looked the part, though, bedecked in his light armor with the same insignia that once belonged to the Guardian Corps. “I’m sure he’s been waiting for you to visit.”
Meredith wanted to say something biting, or to lash out at the captain. She didn’t find the words, though she recalled the memories. “Captain…you…you once used to tell me something-”
“I saw you in the Games,” Clive spoke, cutting across any attempts of what she had to say. “It was such a proud moment for Lumarina. One of our own, on the world stage! Made my comments against you feel so silly and childish. Then you fought that Rico, and you said something that made my bones shake, even all the way out here.”
Meredith’s words died, and she looked to the captain. His eyes were closed, his salt and pepper hair ruffling in the wind while he recounted all that had happened. It felt hollow, the mere mention of the Games, as if it had been a lifetime so long ago, it may as well have not existed.
“You told the world the Corps wasn’t dead,” he said, smiling through his closed expression. “Even though they had every reason to believe it was, you believed in it. You told the world to move forward and save itself. You proved something wrong that I always thought I was right about, and I felt…shame. Shame that I ever called myself a Guardian.”
“Guardians…” Meredith breathed. Her nose burned with the tears and air interacting. “Such a joke…I’m not a Guardian. I never could be…”
“Now, you know that’s not true.”
“You’re the one who always told me!”
“And I was wrong.” He didn’t shout it. The words he spoke were solemn, humble, and full of utmost regret. “You showed me that day. The day you promised to take on pain and told others to save themselves. You moved forward even though you had no reason to. I think that’s what it means to be a Guardian. It opened my eyes, at least. Taught me what I had lost in the years.”
“What does it even matter?” Meredith didn’t care about what he was saying, her fingers twisting the grass beneath her. Before long, she put too much force on it and ripped the grass out. “Look at all the good it did. The Corps was destroyed by the man who led it. I couldn’t do a thing to stop it! Some Guardian…”
“Meredith…you can’t save everything alone.”
“I should have!” Meredith didn’t mean to scream it, but she just couldn’t stop it. Her arms closed around her legs, the gurgling, raw cry torn from her lips. “I should have stopped him! I should have stopped Ray! I could’ve…I couldn’t…”
She felt a pressure on the side of her head, pushing her. The girl nearly fell over and when she looked to Captain Clive, his hand was pulling back. He smiled towards her, taking her aback from its gleaming brilliance. There was no condescension. “Ideals are well and good, Little Meredith, but you need to face reality. You also need to get out more. Stuck inside can’t have done much good.”
“The reality is that Eddie isn’t here. He’s gone!” Meredith shouted. Her fingers were running themselves into her legs, remembering that feeling of helplessness when she had been unable to use them. Unable to fight. Unable to run. “If that’s a reality, then what the hell are you trying to say, captain? There’s no point anymore. Not with Eddie gone…
“There’s no meaning to being a Guardian…”
Clive said little, but a chuckle soon came from him. She tossed him an incredulous look, remembering his mocking tone as he told her she’d never be a Guardian. He never realized how right he was, probably, but she hadn’t wanted it to happen this way. “You’re looking at the wrong reality then. Or is there some other meaning behind calling me captain still?”
Meredith bit her lip and looked away from him. She didn’t want to see the grave, either. “There is no meaning. Nothing left. No home. No friends. No Corps.”
“I can understand how you feel…”
“No, you don’t…” She was shaking her head, and pushing herself back on her feet. Tears fought to escape her eyes, and she whipped around to see the captain standing, too. She grabbed him by his lapel. “You can’t understand, captain! You had it so easy here! You didn’t see anyone die! You didn’t see everything burn around you! And the one person who could make it all better isn’t here. I had to live with that for a month, while they all left me. So, don’t tell me you understand! Don’t give me something that means nothing.
“I’d rather you just tell me I’ll never become a Guardian again. At least this time you’d be right.”
She shoved him off, the bitterness inside manifesting with a pained grunt. Her feet spun, stomping away from the grave when his words called out to her.
“You’re right, Meredith,” he said. She didn’t stop, but his words were carried by the sea breeze. “I can’t possibly imagine what’s in your mind, but you can’t let it beat you, just like it didn’t beat them. You’re still a Guardian, no matter what I’ve said. The best kind. The kind that lifted me from my place of contentment and set me along a path. The kind that still believes in the good we can do, even if we don’t have a name to do it. Or does the Corps really mean so little to you that you can’t do what you promised that young man and accept pain?”
Meredith stopped, her nails biting into her palm while she shook. She didn’t want to hear it, any of it. It was too much. Like he was telling her to grow up and move on.
“I don’t want this pain,” she whispered. She didn’t know if Clive heard her or not, not with the sea crashing against the rocks. He didn’t react, in any case, and those words sunk into her own mind. A month of mulling over and that was the only conclusion she could come to: that she was full of nothing more than bluster and fear. A girl who made promises when she couldn’t endure any of it.
None of that made a Guardian.
Captain Clive may have looked ready to respond to her tortured admission, but a whine echoed over the sea. The sound turned Meredith’s eyes to the sky, and from the distance she could see a black ship, closer and closer. Of course, it wasn’t black by the time it was slowing over Lumarina itself, and Meredith could see what emblem was plastered on its hull. It drove the stake in further.
Lacardia Academy was coming to pay a visit.