She was dreaming the most peculiar dream that she’d ever dreamt. Not because the dream itself was strange, but rather the fact that she was lucid during the whole affair. A dream were she held no control over its content, yet was aware that nothing were real.
It was quite bizarre.
And it was a dream of her childhood.
Then she woke, and quickly realized that she was in a place she’d never been in before. A dirty and hot room, dust and grime painting the border of what she assumed to once have been white walls, the same walls adorned with tacky paintings and black tinted windows that let in little light.
Then she remembered her situation and looked around in hurried freight. Her body moving sluggishly, unresponsively, as if someone had wrapped her entire body in rubber bands. And it felt dull, lifeless, as if someone had wrung her out of all her energy before filling her back up with something slimy, and putrid instead.
She looked, spotting several more beds, empty and weirdly brownish. She ignored the obviously uncleaned and bloodied beds to scan in the opposite direction. Finding yet more beds and a metal door. But other than that, the room was empty. An empty room filled with an enormous amount of empty beds.
The strain of sitting up had taken its toll on her desperately fatigued body, and she fell backwards onto her bed. Hard, she felt the bed was, as if it was but a frame and a cover, the only thing soft being the pillow under her head, and the blanket atop her body.
She glanced down, down at her blanketed body. And slowly, ever so slowly, lifted her right arm. Eyes wide, gulping down a particularly thick strand of saliva, realizing she was devastatingly thirsty, ignored to focus on her slowly lifting arm.
An arm that had a plastic tube inserted into it, connected to a blood bag over her body, bandaged in several layers, perfectly white, probably the only clean thing in the entire room. A bandage that somehow made reality set in for her, as she realized that she had woken up and that she wasn’t still in a dream.
Putting the arm back under the cover, she let her head sink heavily into the soft pillow, breathing out a ragged breath. Staring up at a dirty ceiling with a faintly humming fan doing its utmost to cool the far too hot room. Staring up at a ceiling in a time that she could not tell, as her thoughts wandered at a million times a second.
Thoughts that wanted to burst forth with either a scream, or tears.
She allowed neither, empty and energy-starved as she was. Not allowing, for she could not be weak, not now. No, instead, she simply breathed out raggedly, and in un-evenly. Staring up slovenly at the dirtied ceiling.
The noise of a door opening piqued her interest, and she turned her head towards the only door that lead into the room. Alert, she stared with heightened senses, seeing as it slowly opened, revealing a man clad in brown, dull clothes and rather pristine glasses. The man came further into the room, and she spotted what appeared to be a four-wheeled tray that had an array of instruments, IV-drips and a single bloodbag.
As he entered the room fully and closed the door behind, he looked up and seemed to realise she was awake. Blinking a few times stupidly, staring wide eyed at her with a face of surprise.
“My lady, you’re awake.”
Was his first words, spoken with a hint of worry and respect, but full of professionalism as he gently guided the tray towards her. She opened her mouth to respond, but found that her parched throat did not allow it, instead wheezing before coughing roughly.
“You were in quite a dire state, my lady. It’s a minor miracle that you even survived, though I imagine you aren’t feeling that well.”
He spoke as he arrived next to her bed, turning away from her as he leaned down to pick something up. As her coughing fit subsided, the man spoke while he searched.
“I’m Arne, an enlisted doctor for the empire.”
He said, standing up and turning towards her, exposing a glass of what appeared to be water in his hands. A small smile was plastered on his face, a gentle smile. She stared up unsurely at him, then glancing down suspiciously at the glass of water.
“Fret not, my lady. I might be the empire’s doctor, but I assure you, I’m not it of free will. I won’t hurt you.”
Then leaning the glass towards her mouth, waiting patiently for her to take a sip. She blinked twice, before accepting the offering. Forcing strength into her arm to take the offered glass instead of drinking it like a cripple. On reflex, she used her right arm, realizing too late that she could not.
A moment of awkward silence as the doctor glanced down at the lifted arm. His gentle smile remaining as he spoke.
“You really were lucky, my lady. If it were up to me, I would have amputated your arm as the infection had spread quite far. But, well, I wasn’t allowed.”
She listened as she lowered her right arm once more, instead lifting her left and grabbing the water out of the doctor’s hands. Slowly, she pulled the liquid to her lips, quivering slightly as she, slowly, ever so slowly, tilted the glass to drink the godly liquid.
It tasted quite divine.
“Now, we need to change your IV-drip and blood bag as your body has been thoroughly battered and bruised. You will feel weak for a few days, and you won’t be able to use your right hand for a few weeks, but-“
She interrupted his spiel when she finished drinking, speaking with a hoarse voice that felt weak, forcefully speaking louder, stronger.
“Where’s the Varangian?”
She asked simply, and the doctor’s gentle smile immediately faded. He stared down at her with focused eyes, glancing backwards before leaning forwards and whispering.
“I don’t know. He came with you two days ago and hasn’t been seen since.”
She stared as he spoke, holding a face of neutrality as she listened intently. Almost wincing at his words. Two days? That was impossibly long for her to be unconscious.
“Where am I?”
She asked quickly. And again, the doctor glanced back, whispering slowly.
“You’re in the city of Haugar, a few miles away from the valley of Tyr. Your appearance was quite sudden and caused quite the uproar. There’s been a few attempts at your life while you were unconscious. Luckily, the Varangian seems to want you alive, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to dissuade the soldiers from outright killing you.”
Nodding at his words, she looked unfazed, unbothered. Inside, a whirlwind of emotions rolled, a storm that made her heart beat faster as she desperately pondered her shit situation. She glanced over at the door, partially surprised that a team of soldiers hadn’t busted in and shot her dead yet.
Partially surprised that the Varangian wasn’t there to strangle her.
“I need a phone, and a secluded area.”
She quickly asked, nay, demanded from the doctor whom blinked in surprise, then glanced back nervously, speaking in even more whispers.
“I’m sorry my lady, but I can’t. If they find out that I’m helping you, I won’t just get killed, but my family as well. I am only allowed to heal you, as the Varangian partially forced me to do so, so I have plausible deniability if they ask me why I saved the leader of the rebellion.”
A pleading face, guilty, saddened. A face of a civilian, caught in the crossfire of a political decision that had nothing to do with them. She could understand his plight, she truly did.
But the stakes were too high to not take risks.
“Then where can I get a phone?”
Again, a guilty face, glancing back nervously towards the door behind them. After a long few seconds, he seemed to garner some semblance of courage as he whispered.
“There’s a public phone on the roof. But most of the landlines have been ruined during the bombings. I doubt it’ll work.”
“That’s good enough. Now, leave. You will state to whatever superior you have that while you were in here, I was still unconscious. You did not speak to me, you did not tell me anything. Understood?”
A glance back, and the doctor nodded, a little unsure.
“Yes, of course, my lady. But you aren’t fit enough to move yet. You’ll have to rest for at least a day.”
Her eyes held his, darkened by the dark circles under her eyes, sunken and mellow, yet exuding strength as she said.
“I don’t have a day. Now go Arne. You did not speak to me.”
He straightened his back, glanced backwards, then bowed ever so slightly in a show of respect as he unsurely started moving away, bringing the tray with the still new blood bag, IV-bag and instruments. She stared after him as he crept out the door, closed it behind, and listened intently as the creaky wheels slowly ebbed away to nothing.
Only once they did, did she move. Hurryingly-slow, she lifted the blanket and very awkwardly, pushed her body into a sitting position. Breathing hard as she felt drained, fatigued by simply sitting up. Her eyes darkened somewhat, her head spun, and she felt the little water she had in her body wanting escape.
She did not let it, forcing it down as she took a staggering breath, and placed her feet on the ground. Immediately, she staggered and almost fell. Legs weaker than she had ever felt them to be before. Drained. The IV' drip ripping out of the crease in her arm, falling with a loud clatter beside her. Loud to her ears at least.
Using the bed as support, she crept towards the door. Bed by bed, creeping closer and closer, breathing heavily.
Eventually, she clasped her slightly wavering hands on the door handle, pulling herself up before pulling the door handle down with some effort, opening it slowly outwards. Opening, she peaked around it. Spotting a small corridor leading to the right and a stairway leading up to the left. Clear of any soldiers, or Varangians.
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Moving left, she moved as fast as her burdened body allowed her up the stairs. Clasping desperately on the rusted railings on the side of the stairway, creaking ominously under her frail weight.
Looking up, the stairway led up far, but not too far. It would be hard, but she would make it. She knew. She wouldn’t let her body fail her now.
Step by step, precious sweat dripping down her forehead, breathing desperately, eyes drooping. She would make it.
Eventually, the last step was crested, and she took a minute to collect herself. A minute passing by fast, needing one more. Two more.
Realising that she wouldn’t feel any better from resting, she continued forward. Opening a door that she presumed led to the ceiling. As she opened it, light flooded her darkened stairway, followed by an onslaught of devastating heat. She almost fell, but collected herself before she did.
Blinking the light out of her eyes, she could see a flattened ceiling with a railing outlining its border, sand collected in volumes scattered around with several sets of pillars sticking up at seemingly random, rebars sticking out like small deformed branches. And to the right, what appeared to be a minor shed sticking up a few meters upwards by the ceilings side.
And as she glanced beyond the railing, she spotted the city. A small city, in the grand scheme of things. A city that was a husk of its glory, shattered and bruised, building ruins of their former glory. Sandblasted and drab, colorless with only a few building still looking unharmed. Unharmed meaning that they didn't look like ruins, which wasn't far from what they also were.
Taking a step outside, she quickly realized that she was barefooted, and lacking any real clothing. Only wearing what she now saw was a white, thin overall. She ignored the unpleasant heat on her feet, searching for the public telephone that was supposedly up here.
Spotting it, she moved towards it and grabbed the thing. The thing being an old phone, how old, she knew not. She was just lucky that she recognized it from her early childhood, having used one of these kinds of phones for security reasons, pranking her father as she did.
Praying to whatever god might listen, she dialed the only number she remembered and hoped. Hoped against hope, praying to gods she hadn’t prayed to for a long time.
Then he picked up.
“My lady?”
Immediate feelings of joy and happiness welled up in her heart. A familiar voice, a friendly voice, one that truly cared. Emotions bubbling to surface, threatening to escape. She did not let it, she must stay focused.
“Richard, I don’t have time to explain, but I am currently alright. The Varangian has taken me hostage, and I’m behind enemy lines in the city of Haugar, near the valley of Tyr.”
“I will immediately form a rescue team my lady. If you can stay where you are and-“
“No! No Richard, you won’t be able to rescue me. No, I need you to confirm for me if you can bomb my position.”
She said without hesitation, having already thought of it on the way up the stairs. But silence was the only answer she got, crackling silence as she waited for an response. One that took far too long to come, making her worry that the phone had died.
“Richard?”
“My lady, we will save you no matter what. Just- stay put and we’ll be there.”
“Richard! Goddammit, I’m already dead. The Varangian’s mission was to kill me. I only managed to survive by tricking him that I would guide him to the AI's. He won’t let me escape, not now, and you won’t be able to kill him with mere soldiers. He is, unstoppable.”
She said with a slight waver in her voice, closing her eyes as she leaned onto the pole that contained the phone, feeling her earlier joy draining like shit down a drain.
“Richard, I need you to confirm for me. I need to know, if you have any artillery within range.”
Silence once more. She waited patiently. Not sure of what answer she wanted, waiting with a stone in her heart.
“We-we… We do not, my lady.”
He answered, and she felt partial relief, partial dread. She wanted to swear; she wanted to breathe out. She opted to do neither, closed eyes and leaning heavily onto the pole atop the ceiling. Breathing unevenly, slightly strained.
“My lady, we can save you. I promise. We will do everything we can. We-we… We will start the AI’s, we will make a frontal assault, we will figure something out, my lady. Don’t you worry.”
Her shadow spoke almost fervently through the crackly phone, speaking desperately, searching for a way that the both of them knew wouldn’t work.
Then she realized what he had said, and her eyes flung open. Her mind flew at a million miles a second, forming a half-baked plan at the speed of light. Hearing her shadow droning on in her ear, not listening as she thought.
A plan formed in her mind, and she immediately set the first cog into action.
“Richard. This is what we’ll do. You won’t send a rescue team for me. It’ll only lead to more death. Instead, you will move as fast as you can towards the AI’s location where you’ll set up an ambush with the help of the AI’s. I will lead the Varangian into this ambush, and with the coordinated firepower of our men and the AI’s, we might- no, we will kill the Varangian.”
A pause as her shadowed man digested the words, silent, giving her room to ponder her plan some more. Half-baked as it was, she had a hard time finding something better in the short time she had to think.
“My lady, you will lead the Varangian?”
“Yes, don’t fret the detail’s Richard. I need to know if you can do this? Can you get to the AI’s location and turn them on?”
Again, a brief pause, lifted with a somewhat unconfident response.
“Y-yes my lady. But even with the fastest vehicles at my disposal, it’ll take a month to get there.”
She swore inwards at the answer, eyes darting around quickly, looking at nothing as her mind used the movement to help focus her.
“It’ll have to do. Do what you can to get there faster, but I’ll do my best to guide the Varangian as slowly as possible.”
“My lady, are… are you sure about this?”
He asked hesitantly, and she took a moment to respond.
“Yes, now make haste.”
“As you wish, my lady. How will I contact you?”
“You won’t. I’ll contact you once I get my hands on a phone, or a radio. Make sure that you get there as fast as possible Richard, my life might depend on it.”
“Yes, my lady. Fare well, and. Good luck.”
“You too Richard.”
She said with some finality, putting the phone back on the pole while still leaning her head against it, closing her eyes once more as she breathed out.
At least, she had found a way that she might, just might, survive this whole ordeal. Though she was unsure if she should put any hope on it.
Pushing off weakly at the pole, she walked towards the ceilings railing, leaning out over it as she stared out at the ruined city. A despondent sight, going far into the distance where the borders of the city were walled off by the beginning of small mountains, mountains that bordered the valley of Tyr.
Dotted people in the distances, scurrying around with heads held down, children playing as if nothing was wrong, soldiers marching towards unknown objectives.
It was a dull sight that filled her with a sort of, melancholic feeling. Her staring giving her something to do, thoughts being but a background noise as she allowed herself to stare at the, weirdly harmonious and strangely, beautiful ruined city. It was a sad sight, one she’d once pledged to stop from existing. Yet, it held a strange beauty.
Maybe she felt a connection to the city, broken as she was now.
Maybe she was just bored.
Maybe, she just liked being high up, staring out at a pleasant view.
But no matter what one was doing, reality must come crashing down at one point or another. This time, literally.
The door leading up to the ceiling crashed open, a shout quickly following.
“I found her, Sergeant!”
A bassy voice shouted out behind her. Turning around hurriedly, she spotted a man clad in the empire’s uniform, holding a rifle in hand, looking down the stairs he’d just emerged from.
Panic flared immediately, and her first instinct was to run. Quelled as she realized that there was no chance in hel that she'd manage that. Instead, she searched her immediate surroundings, looking for a weapon, finding none.
So she turned to the phone and swiftly picked it up, not quite sure what to do with it. She simply held it and turned back to the soldier.
As she did, she spotted two more emerging from the stairs, one being a soldier, the other with an insignia on their shoulder, indicating the rank of Sergeant.
She opened her mouth to speak, to threaten the group with, something. She would just have to come up with something.
Then she spotted the pistol aiming straight at her, and her voice stuck in her throat.
But instead of firing a round, the pistol suddenly crashed to the ground with the Sergeant screaming out in surprise and a slight tinge of pain. She spotted the pistol pinned to the ground, imbedded with a knife.
As one, the entire group turned towards the knifes trajectory, spotting nothing.
Then, as if emerging into reality itself, the Varangian stepped out of the shadow atop the shed.
“What the fuck-“
The Sergeant managed before he too spotted the Varangian. A strange silence emerging as everyone stared slack jawed up at him. The soldiers unsure, with a mix of awe and fear. The Sergeant with an unreadable expression, unsure and uncertain.
She, well, she just wondered for how long he’d been there, and if he’d heard anything.
Taking a step forward, the Varangian fell the two meter drop onto the ceiling as if it was nothing, taking steps towards the group of three soldiers, putting himself between them, and her.
“She is under my protection. You will not bring harm to her until I finish my mission.”
The Varangian said in a monotone, staring down at the three almost quivering soldiers, towering heads above them. A humongous gun strapped to his back, arms calmly resting by his sides, head slanted slightly down.
Intimidating.
The Sergeant did not back down though. He was a man, after all, and could not show weakness even in the face of impossible odds.
“Well met, hel’s chosen. I mean no dishonor. I was simply following orders, as I’m sure you are.”
The Varangian didn’t respond, simply standing still, completely still, frozen as if a statue. Still and staring, waiting.
The Sergeant visibly gulped, though no one saw.
“B-but I must ask off you to hand her over. She is a threat to imperial integrity and a threat to world peace. She is to be put to death on sight.”
“She is under my protection. You will not bring harm to her until I finish my mission.”
He calmly, and just as monotonously, repeated. Standing still like the lake in winter, staring down at the unsure Sergeant. His two soldiers glancing at each other with trepidation, up at the Varangian in a mixture of fear and awe, then down on the Sergeant with uncertainty.
A slight tension in the air, silent and tense.
The Sergeant cleared his throat, wiping at his forehead.
“Yes, of course hel’s chosen. We shall bring no harm to the lady. There are surely noble reasons for why you are, harboring a terrorist.”
Again, the Varangian didn’t respond, simply standing there, still. Something that seemed to worsen the sweating Sergeant, doing his utmost to remain as unfaced as he wanted to be seen as. Again, after clearing his throat and taking an unconscious step backwards, he said.
“I need to, uhm, inform my superiors of this.”
“I’m being led to the location of AIs. You shall not, I repeat, you shall not bring harm to my guide. This is what you will inform to your superiors.”
The Varangian spoke with a commanding tone, monotonous but clear in authority. The Sergeant immediately saluted instinctually, as did the two soldiers behind.
“Of course, hel’s chosen! Glory to the emperor!”
He shouted out in glorious propaganda, visibly glad to have a reason to run away, turning around and fleeing down the ceilings stairs. She stared after them as they jogged away, halfway believing it all to be a ruse, believing that they would simply turn back and shoot her on sight.
But that wasn’t reality. Instead, the Varangian was the one to turn, taking easy and almost gallant steps towards her. Walking as if gravity barely had a hold on him.
He was upon her, towering over her impossibly and staring down at her, asking, slowly.
“Are you hurt?”
She blinked at the question, the tone of his voice betraying the meaning of the words. A tone that sounded utterly bored, as if he cared not for the answer, yet asked a question that should be kind. She quickly realized it for what it was.
“I am not hurt.”
She said defiantly, lying through her teeth yet again, slightly hiding her arm behind her back and staring back without even a slight flinch.
“Good, then I shall gather a few supplies before we head off. You will wait with the doctor until I return.”
He spoke quickly, then moved his hand behind his back, pulling it forth and presenting her with a, gun?
A pistol that looked comically small held in his hand, but was normal sized, and presented towards her with the muzzle pointing towards his stomach. Before she could ask, or look surprised, he answered.
“You will only use this if you deem your life at risk. Do not kill without my consent, or there will be consequences.”
She blinked at the supplied answer, not reaching for the gun. Simply staring, dumbfounded. Yet, he remained frozen, patient, not even moving with the breeze.
Time still for a second as she tried to comprehend it all.
She reached for the gun with her right- her left hand, grabbed it and, held it afloat, holding it as if holding something foreign in her hands. Her eye remained glued to the pistol, spotting by the corners of her eyes as the Varangian moved past her with ease of step, steps so fast that she barely realized.
But she did and turned around towards him. His back was against her as he took a step up onto the rusted railing, creaking ominously. She stared at his back as he stood there. Unconsciously, she raised her left arm, then consciously aimed it squarely at his back. Eyes lined up with the pistol, arm straight and finger lightly pulling at the trigger, she took a breath.
She aimed perfectly, just as she’d been taught.
But her breathing grew uneven, ragged. Her aim flustered, her hand shook. The finger on the trigger lost strength, and suddenly, she felt weak in her legs.
Collapsing, she breathed heavily, pistol in hand as she stared down at the ground. The sound of metal collapsing in on itself sounded out in front of her, and she spotted the railing bent inwards where the Varangian had just stood. Gone, having jumped away.
She breathed and stared, collapsed on the ground as she desperately tried to breathe, feeling her airways strangely cut. She felt trapped, needed air even though she was outside.
It took minutes for her to calm enough to fully collect herself, cursing her weak body, cursing all the gods.
Cursing, hel’s chosen.