At the height of Avisen influence in the Kurai territories
10 YEARS AGO
“Oy. Out of the way.” The long-eared man remarked, pushing Rais out of the way.
“Sorry.”
“Damn straight you should be sorry.” The elven remarked as he left beyond hearing distance; leaving behind the two korun on the very much open grassland; ample opportunity for him to have simply passed by them without hassle.
Jiro stared over, his drooping eyebags further accentuating his narrowed eyes; staring at the rude man. “Some ‘honorary elven’ we are, apparently.”
“Eh, I’ll settle for not getting murdered. Ay, it’s starting.”
*bang*
A large red light filled the sky above them before it descended down to earth; the sound of running and trotting kicking up dust at the start of the course.
Underneath the blazing sun the grass wilted. The fields of green broken up by long lines of brown and black stacked upon one another, the empty dark chocolate running across the field trampled upon by dozens and dozens of boys, all sprinting over various wooden obstacles and getting across artificial ditches with magic.
The pit ahead of them crowded half a dozen on one side, all jabbing one another, pushing and shoving. The logs lying at the bottom of the pit all rolled and flew up once in a while as the trainees jostled for control of them; one of the long-eared boys fell in, dropping a full metre onto splinters and rocks. The youths scrambled to get across as more and more of them fell down; the vast majority of the participants Elven boys. One or two Korun, yes, yet it seemed a sea of peach skin and yellow hair.
Another blue flash broke through the crowd, pulling one of the logs away before she sprinted across the wobbling floater to the other side. Miru continued to sprint towards the end of the course; dictating the wind as she went.
“Lookit her go…” Jiro remarked, his wrinkled finger pointing towards the muddy training run. “I haven’t seen someone like that in a while.”
“No kidding. How long’s it been since the old Republic, twenty, thirty... damn.” Rais, his blue-skinned colleague noted with trembling hands, long metal prods running across his arms to keep them stable, “That girl’s what you brought me out here for?”
“Yeah. Crazy, innit? Kon brought her in few years back, thought she was a boy. Couldn’t bear to see one of our own get murdered, so I pulled a few strings and kept her in.” He groused, his wrinkles making his half-closed eyes even droopier as he fiddled with the conical bronze contraption in his hand. “-got another pipe? Mine’s broke…”
“Yep. Here you go.” Both of them Korun, they watched the course from the sidelines, with their othala armbands kept in their pockets. “Nice girl, but she’s absolutely screwed if she thinks she’s going to get anywhere in this army - best case scenario I’m giving her is if she gets directed to the secretaries’ department.”
Lighting up a pipe, Jiro chuckled. “Not if we interfere.” He slotted it in his lips, letting out one great big puff; the muffled noise emerging from his mouth a mutter of “Damn, this is good…”
“I want another Korun alive as much as you do, but I’m not risking my skin to save one girl.” Rais remarked, crossing his arms while peering into the pipe Jiro had given him, his eye narrowing as he scrutinised the smashed internal components. “I’ve a wife and kids to go back to.”
Jiro laughed. “That’s where you’re wrong. That girl, can save us.”
“When did you become religious?” Rais stalled, shifting slightly; “Also, how did you smash the core bit of the exhaler…?”
“It’s not what you think. Look, you know how all those fucking Hiryu bastards have an obsession with ‘the traditional family’?”
“Could get an answer on that last one as well…” Rais groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned towards Jiro, tapping his foot on the dirt. “Go on?”
“That girl is running the gauntlet faster than literally anyone else here. And she’s a girl. Imagine how much they’d hate it if a girl - a Korun girl at that - beats the hell out of their other recruits.”
Rais scoffed. “They’d just kill her and be done with it.”
“Not Sekyo. He’s got too fat a head to allow it to happen. All that, ‘honour’ and shite, y’know?” Jiro laughed, watching the recruits ahead of him slowly crawl out of the pit and run over. The walls and fireballs ahead of them continued to stand tall, ready to trip them all up. “Plus, she’s one of those orphan soldiers. Nobody for us to answer to, we can work her to the bloody limit.”
“Then what?” Rais turned to face Jiro, eyes narrowed, arms crossed; unimpressed. Jiro shook his head before grabbing Rais by both of the shoulders and leaning in.
“Then they’ll have to talk to us. Not give us some shitty orders and tell us that we have to do it to be ‘honorary elven’. I want them to listen when we tell them that harvests can’t be forced, or that their current ‘coins’ thing is nonsense, or when I’m gone, my son and daughter can talk to them. Speak to them. Even lecture them without ‘em getting angry.”
Only the sound of the trainees running and scrambling across their course could be heard. Rais
“Ever the politician, aye?”
“Still want slavery gone.” He snickered, blowing a plume of smoke out of the pipe; his wrinkles only growing on him. “Even if they brought back the Republic tomorrow that blot is still going to be there.”
Rais furrowed his brow, sitting on the grass as the trainees at the front end of the course thinned out in number. “I don’t think we’re gonna see anything you want before we become fertiliser.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Jiro sighed. “If not for us, then the kids tomorrow. Nothing lasts forever…”
----------------------------------------
NOW
NORO ADVANCE BASE & PRISON
Creeping.
The isolation slowly caught up to her; the blank grey walls eerily detailed that morning. Miru gulped down the contents of her canteen as the borders of the room seemingly closed in; her reddened eyes blinking and closing for stretches as she struggled to put another word down on parchment.
*thump*
She jolted. What the hell is that noise? She thought, slowly reaching into a pocket underneath her trenchcoat, her hand beginning to touch the little dagger she kept at all times.
“Who’s there?”
*thump*
She wasn’t sure what was louder - the beating of her heart drumming along like some kind of rattle or the noises from outside. They found out? Her mind raced.
*thump*
“Oy!” She shouted, her hand fully wrapped around the dagger’s grip.
*chak*
“Hey, Second Lieutenant, the door’s looked…” The nondescript voice immediately let her sigh.
She let go of the dagger before walking up to the door, calmly releasing the emblem lock and sliding the door to the side. The soldier that greeted her eyes let her fists relax; whilst she heaved a sigh of relief. “Ma’am, the reports this morning.”
“Oh.” Miru weakly nodded. “I’ll take them. Anything else?”
“Nothing, ma’am.”
“I see. Uh, do whatever you need to do after this.” She remarked, taking the parchment from the soldier before waving him off with a salute. She slowly limped back to her desk as she looked up. “...what am I supposed to do…”
They know. Those two words repeated through her head as she paced around the room, staring up at the topographic map to which contours and so many other lines were drawn; glancing towards the parchments left on her table. Her eyes darted from object to object, eventually focusing on the crack in the wall.
The trembling didn’t stop as the door opened again, this time with three people at the door: Kari, Salim and Poik. “Ah.”
“Reporting, ma’am.” Poik said, bowing briefly as the three entered the room one by one; Kari last.
“Yes, yes… sorry for not going to check with you myself, sorting out all the lost parchments and documents everywhere.” Miru commented, the water running down her face. She still kept the long, thick trenchcoat draped over her body on whilst the others stood in front of her desk. “Well then, let’s… let’s get started.”
“...shouldn’t you take off your trenchcoat?” Kari questioned, hands clapsed together with two pieces of parchment in hand.
Miru wearily shook her head. “No. No, I don’t think I need to.”
The baking heat of the room drew sweat from every person within it, the two flags behind the desk having been taken down and kept inside a small ice box to prevent damage. The walls, carved into the stone of a mountain millenia in the making, continued to flake off thin layers of dye, revealing unvarnished and jittery rocks behind.
Four people stood in the room, better described as human-shaped ice cubes; all standing still while watching Miru slowly glance around at the lot. There were supposed to be five people.
“...did Hen run off again?”
“He said he’s doing his duty, ma’am, and uh, he refused to come.” Poik remarked, staring down at the ground as he flipped through the two pieces of parchment on hand. “Should I make my report first?”
“No, you… drag him back here, immediately.” Miru waved him off, before collapsing further back into his seat as Poik scurried out of the room, leaving just Miru, Salim and Kari, the last of which quietly went to go close the door silently. “In the meantime, you two, can you do your respective reports? Or did you consolidate it?”
Salim stepped up, the two crosses on his cheeks belying his fresh-faced demeanor. “Two reports, ma’am. Separate jurisdictions.”
“It’s in your court then. Tell me everything as summarised as you can, I’m going to be helping out with the reconstruction in a half hour or so.” Miru stopped, nodding to the two. Salim looked at Kari and raised his thumb, gesturing to ask her if she’d do it first; Kari shook her head and pointed back at him.
“Well then. Everything’s breaking down, ma’am. We have, uh… may I use this map?”
Miru shrugged. “Why’re you asking me permission for that? Go ahead.”
Salim placed the map on the desk, featuring a top-down view of the overall prison; large bits of it denoted with crossed-out and scratched-out hallways and rooms. “So, if you’ll see here, towards the signal lights… I do recall we said we could salvage them. We did. Most of them are back to being operational, but we actually don’t have enough men left to man them.”
“Not enough? What’s the current operation you’re considering?”
“It’s the old way, ma’am. I tried to get some guys on protection detail to shift over here and start running between signal lights every hour… didn’t work.”
“Can we operate half-detail? Have only half of them manned? I recall you had more than enough men right after the headcount, did they all catch illness?”
“We assumed it was the flu. Took out a dozen guys with chest wounds, and that was already a third - a lot more are currently on medical, out of action.”
“...fuck.” She grasped her face with her hand. “What solutions do we have to keep operating on even a nominal basis?”
Salim shifted for a moment, and hung his head in shame. “...can’t believe I’m saying this, but at this rate we’re going to need to stop performing night communications just to be able to keep it all running.”
“Grab every single person you can from the protection detail that was trained on comms and report back to me by the end of the day.” The immediate answer left her mouth like instinct as she waved him off, Salim saluting and sprinting off.
“...thank the lord he’s in charge there with you… Kari, let’s get this done?”
Kari remained silent, before leaning in and whispering,
“...demote Hen and put him in a cell.”
Miru hung her head and groaned, “No. Please, just… just gimme your report, I…”
“Why are you even wearing your trenchcoat here? And what’s inside it that you keep clutching?”
“-what?”
“Your hand. It’s been in there the entire time.” Kari pointed, and Miru only now realised her left hand still lay rooted on the dagger’s grip, the ironclad link between the two things atrociously strong.
“...ah. Sorry…” Miru muttered, then placed both of her hands on the desktop.
“So, let’s just get back to business…” Kari winced and leaned in, hands rooted on the table. “You can explain to the higher-ups later, I’m sure Sir Sekyo’d be fine with it.”
She stood up. “I’m not going to break the code just to get rid of one infinitesimally annoying subordinate that’ll be gone the moment this campaign is over. The amount of insubordination and I still need higher approval for this…”
“Yeah… it’s stupid, and you look like you’ve aged a thousand years because of it. This is me telling you this completely honestly: get a rest.”
“I - I’m fine, I’m fine. Just gimme the report.”
“Bu-”
Miru slammed her hand down on the desk, the stubby legs of the structure shaking. “No buts. Please. Just the report.”
Kari gave a rather sad expression - almost as if she was watching someone collapse in front of her eyes - before nodding.
“Yes. ...ma’am.”