15 - Scream

The hot, dry air of the barren wasteland surrounded Àndras’s whole body. Combined with the lack of clouds, the sun seemed to burn through his skin without resistance. Drops of sweat trickled down Àndras’s neck as a strong gust of wind bore into his side. “Have we nearly arrived,” he asked while doing his best not to seem tired.

“If we suffer no complications, we shouldn’t have more than thirty minutes left to go,” Voós replied, seemingly unfazed by the sizzling sunlight hitting him from all angles. Doing his best not to seem impatient, Àndras continued walking as briskly as he could.

“Have you given it any thought,” Voós inquired, interrupting the sound of feet on loose dirt. In response, however, Àndras merely sighed. Despite the faint reaction, Voós seemed to understand and held off from asking any more questions.

“Well… it’s hard to decide. I mean, that leader of yours sure knows how to give an offer, but… I just don’t know,” Àndras eventually muttered. Voós chuckled. “Indeed. He can be quite… much at times, though he has the charisma to act that way and get away with it. Perhaps you’d like to hear my story to get a better grasp of what you’re joining,” Voós offered.

Àndras’s eyebrows arched slightly, intruiged. “I suppose,” answered. Picking up the pace a bit, Voós planted his walking stick, a simple, brown, yet dignified piece, and matched Àndras’s stride.

“You see, I had a family once. A wife, a son, and two, beautiful granddaughters,” Voós began, a beaming smile reflecting off of his face. “His wife couldn’t handle the labor, and no apostles of Hera were nearby. So, she ended up passing away shortly after holding her daughters for the first time.” A bit shocked, Àndras looked back at Voós, a look of regret painting over his previous look of glee. “Those two were quite a pair. Gave their dad a run for his money in terms of begging for one more hug before bedtime,” he chuckled.

“Even though they were a handful, that ended up being for the best since it distracted him from his loss. It seemed as if I hardly blinked before…” Voós’s words got caught in his throat, a tear threatening to fall from his eye. “During their blessing ceremony… each one of them refused to go up to the pedestal without the other. The priest was reluctant, but they always got their way. And together, they put their hands on the slate, and they…”

Voós’s speed trickled down. Seeing the buff, old man in such a pitiful state caused a lump to form in Àndras’s throat. “Pillars shinier than gold fell down from the skies and absorbed the both of them,” Voós spat, causing Àndras’s eyebrows to furrow. “Apollo,” he softly responded.

Voós nodded his head, his gaze not leaving the ground. “One second they were there, the next… gone.” Àndras’s heartbeat began to speed up. “Where’d they go?!”

Voós’s fists clenched. “Part of my blessing is an ability that allows me to swap places with whoever I leave a certain mark on. Apparently, Athena got the idea from a battle that took place long ago. The only downside is that it takes quite some time to place. Though, with family, time hardly matters.”

Àndras could see the ice cold rage manifesting in Voós eyes. “I panicked, and activated my ability on the younger one and…” Boiling hot tears of anger began spilling from Voós’s eyes. “The next thing I know, I’m looking up at Apollo with…” Voós’s legs began shaking furiously. “It was in my mouth! Which means that it was also…” Unable to continue, Voós fell to his knees. Utterly baffled, Àndras ran to his side and instinctively put his hand on his shoulder. For longer than Àndras could be bothered to count, he sat there with his hand on Voós’s shoulder, slowly processing the horrific implications of his story. However, it didn’t take too long before Voós forced himself to stand and take a breath.

“What happened next was hardly even a blur. He cursed at me, and slapped me so hard my hair turned white,” Voós chuckled, though Àndras couldn’t tell if he was joking. “Next thing I know, I was back on the ground, my granddaughters nowhere to be found. And the crowd… they didn’t even notice. They were so happy that not only one, but two people were special enough to be ‘hand picked’ by the gods. They cheered and cheered, my screams of anguish being mistaken for exclamations of excitement.”

The tears quickly dried from Voós’s eyes as he leaned on his cane and began moving once again. “I tried to push my way back onto the stage and onto the slate, but the guards stopped me and threw me in jail. I told them what I had seen, but, in response, they looked at me like I was insane. One of them even kicked me in the jaw for attempting to besmirch the reputation of the gods like that.” Voós’s limp soon returned to his old, calculated stride.

“They left me in there for about a week before throwing me into the street, thinking I had gone crazy. Even though I could hardly think, I knew I had to get back to my wife and son. But, when I went back to my house, it was empty. Not only were they not there, but every trace of us, every reminder that it was once our home had been completely erased.” Voós’s steps became heavier. “There’s not a doubt in my mind that it was Apollo’s doing. Punishing me for ‘getting in his way,’ or something along those lines.”

After a few more firm footsteps, Voós took a deep breath and stopped. “After that, I sold the house for nearly nothing and spent every waking moment in a bar, either at a seat or digging through the trash for bottles that were discarded prematurely. I think it was then when he approached me.”

Listening intently, Àndras carefully stopped about a meter away from Voós. “The leader?” Voós’s gaze wandered towards the sky again, a mix of emotions flickering through his thin smile. “Indeed. He’s always been inconceivably skilled at finding the right people. Well, if you’d refer to a homeless man digging through the trash a ‘right person,’” Voós chuckled.

Àndras remained speechless. “After that, I helped him create tactics to help us win the small skirmishes our handful of followers would start. They could hardly be called victories, but, to us, they were proof that we had a chance.”

Voós turned around and locked eyes with Àndras. “That all happened a few decades ago, yet it feels like its been a lifetime. While I’ll never be able to forget what I lost, I am still capable of appreciating everything I’ve gained since then. The boss quite literally gave me a new life.”

Sensing that the story was coming to an end Àndras shuffled his feet across the ground, a subtle way of asking if Voós was ready to continue. In response, Voós only sighed. “Àndras, I completely understand your hesitance to join us and your reluctance to believe the boss’s words. However, I swear to you that, if you decide to do so, you will never regret joining our ranks.”

Finishing his tale, Voós, whose face had no trace of his previous emotional outburst, began walking once again. Àndras, who was wondering how to follow up that tragic story, reluctantly began to follow. “Anyway, after I joined, the group started expanding rapidly. It went from me, the leader, and about a dozen others to… well, you’ve seen. We have yet to launch a full blown attack, but that’s bound to change eventually. So far, we’ve tried our best to keep blood from spilling, but simply being a potential threat isn’t working. We need to show them that we are not to be trifled with, and that we should not be taken as a joke. Though, maybe underestimating us would be in our benefit if we decide to look past compromise.”

Àndras’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “Compromise? I was told the rebellion was biding its time until it found the best time to strike.”

Voós, not surprised, sighed heavily. “Well, if they told you there was a chance of peace, you might have been reluctant to capture our members with extreme prejudice, which might have led to you listening to what we told them. If the knowledge we found were to spread…” Àndras heard an audible gulp come from Voós. “Well, who knows really.”

“How exactly did you find this knowledge,” Àndras asked out of genuine curiosity. “The boss seemingly found it before the group was formed. I inquired once, but he didn’t seem too keen to answer, so I never asked again,” Voós replied, his eyes squinting. “Is something wrong,” Àndras asked, noticing the peculiar action, causing Voós to sigh.

“There’s a soil storm ahead. Unless we want to wait, we’ll have to find a new route.” Àndras’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? What’s a soil storm?”

“Almost a hundred years ago, this place was an agricultural hotspot. It’s more than half the reason Ftochós came to exist,” Voós stated. “What does that have to do with the soil storm,” Àndras impatiently rebuked.

“Well, when a farmer, usually an apostle of Demeter, plants crops in one area for one year in very fertile soil, the crops will flourish,” Voós began, “but that begins to change when one area is used year after year. Eventually, all of the nutrients in the soil will have disappeared, making agricultural exploits much more difficult than before.”

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“What’s your point,” Àndras growled, trying to connect the dots. “After the soil became practically nothing but rock and sand, everybody started to panic, thinking the gods had cursed the land. This caused a mass exodus from Ftochós, causing anyone who could afford to travel to leave. That explains why the general population tends to be of a lower class. Anyways, this land was always known to be extremely windy, even when this area was habitable.”

Even with these pieces of the puzzle, Àndras couldn’t understand why Voós was giving him this knowledge. “So?”

“So, when all of the plants died due to lack of nutrients, their roots decayed. Plant roots are vital for keeping soil on the ground, especially in windy areas such as this one. Therefore, when the roots disappeared, the wind began to lift ginormous clouds of dust and sand, creating soil storms.”

“But why does that prevent us from traveling? I doubt sand grains will hurt us,” Àndras complained. “Well, the dust and sand cloud our vision, making it impossible to navigate. Though, if that were it, I could definitely still lead us through,” Voós began. “But, there’s another problem. When this happens, the particles can rub against each other, causing—”

Suddenly, a bright light flashed across the plateau, followed by the sound of roaring thunder. “…that,” Voós sighed, causing Àndras to bite his lip. “Since this is your journey, I’ll let you choose what we do. If we wait until the soil storm passes, we’ll be able to get there safely, albeit a bit behind schedule. But, if we go on an alternate route, we could probably get there faster if we don’t hit a dead end or get lost. So, which do you choose?”

…

The dining room was quiet and mostly empty aside from the worn down, rectangular table, the three chairs that circled it, and the three people who sat in those chairs. On one side, Fíle nervously tapped his foot while Pierre told Aunt Gyn to take a seat. The sun beamed streaks of light through the empty windows while it approached the middle of the sky.

After everyone had taken a seat, silence coated the room once more, the sound of Fíle tapping his feet being the only release. “So, ma’am,” Pierre finally coughed, “I have come here today… to reveal that your youngest son, Nazarius, has died in an unfortunate accident. I am sorry for your loss.”

Aunt Gyn’s face froze on the spot, increasing the tension in the room. “Earlier today, a trypa appeared in the town, causing an earthquake that caused many buildings to fall and crush many people,” Pierre explained, hoping at least a trace of emotion would appear on her face. Still, however, Aunt Gyn remained stoic, her gaze staring straight through the ground.

Fíle began scratching the circular scar on the hand— a habit he had mainly dropped, though it still came to light in extreme circumstances. Pierre bit his lip. “Ándras was also present, and, while sustaining minor injuries, is ok. However, he got orders to return to HQ, so he had to depart. I hope you understand. In order to help you out, I intend to pay for the funeral if that is of any comfort.”

Still, despite the attempted reassurance and offer, Aunt Gyn’s muddy gaze and stone face remained locked onto the ground. “Well,” Pierre awkwardly uttered, “I’ll be on my way. If you ever need me for something, simply pour out something with a strong smell outside your house. I’ll be in town for a while, at least until I complete some business, so that should work for a while. Anyways…”

Wrapping up his speech, Pierre made eye contact with Fíle while shrugging his head towards Aunt Gyn. Understanding, Fíle quickly stood up and walked toward Aunt Gyn as Pierre walked towards the door.

As Pierre walked through the wooden door, Fíle gently wrapped his arms around Aunt Gyn’s unresponsive body, her skin turning colder by the second. Slightly alarmed, he hugged her tighter, hoping to warm her up at least a little. However, contrary to his desires, Aunt Gyn’s soul seemed to fade more as she began slumping over.

“Aunt Gyn,” Fíle muttered weakly, praying that he would get any sort of sign that she had heard him. However, the only response he received was Aunt Gyn further sinking into his arms, her eyes drooping.

Aunt Gyn, please say something,” Fíle wept as Aunt Gyn’s weight seemed to increase more by the second. Before Fíle could even whisper another word, Aunt Gyn collapsed into his arms like a puppet with cut strings. Freaking out, Fíle quickly lifted up his ice cold Aunt and carried her to her bed as quickly as he could before shoving her under the blanket she had knitted for herself a few years prior.

After making sure that she couldn’t fall out of the bed, Fíle quickly burst through the door. “Pierre,” he screamed, “something happened!” Almost immediately, he was able to spot a lanky figure effortlessly gliding through the crowd. Within seconds, Pierre appeared in front of Fíle, his eyes begging to know the problem. “She passed out,” Fíle quickly explained as he continued walking back into the house.

Aunt Gyn laid exactly where Fíle had put her. After shuffling towards her, Pierre slid his hand over the surface of her entire body, his eyes flickering all over the place. “Her blood pressure is extremely low,” Pierre muttered. “That’s probably why she fainted.”

“Is she g-going to be okay,” Fíle stuttered as tears began leaking from his eyes. “Right now, she’s not in any danger; but, from the looks of it, she’s bad at dealing with stress. At this rate, she’ll probably have a heart attack. Is there a hospital anywhere nearby,” Pierre solemnly asked.

“There are doctors, but not really any hospitals. Anything they could do, you could probably do better,” Fíle admitted. While it didn’t usually bother him, he really hated how poor this town was then.

Scowling, Pierre looked off into the distance. “Okay, so here’s the plan, kid,” Pierre began. “I can probably get us to the closest town within a few hours and drop her off at a hospital there, but it’s going to be difficult to take all of us at once since we have no carriage or anything. So, I want you to go grab a table or a bed or something and bring it out here so I can put wheels on it,” Pierre frantically uttered as he reached for the water skins on his belt.

“Okay,” Fíle said as he ran back inside of the house. Hoping not to waste any time, he immediately entered Aunt Gyn’s room and picked up her thin, twin sized mattress up with his bare hands. “Don’t worry Aunt Gyn, you’ll be fine,” he whispered to her as he ran back outside.

Hearing the footsteps, Pierre, who had constructed a peculiar looking cylindrical device, turned around and angled the contraption. “Bring here over here,” he said as two thin, transparent ropes extended from the machine and onto the sides of the mattress. “What is that thing,” Fíle confusedly inquired.

“I call it an engine,” he answered as four wheels appeared onto the corners of the mattress. “It’ll make us go faster. Now hop on the mattress.” Without any more hesitation, Pierre plunged his hands into his device, causing it to begin steaming.

“Oh yeah, forgot one thing,” Pierre muttered as two belts of water wrapped themselves around Aunt Gyn and Fíle. Before Fíle could even ask what they were for, the contraption whistled as even more steam began whirring from the top, causing the mattress express to launch down the street with extreme speeds.

…

After reaching the pinnacle of its path, the sun began falling down again towards the west. The air was warm, but not warm enough to cause Kakó to break into a sweat. Kakó, who hadn’t drank water for who knows how long, had spent hours slowly savoring water at the local well. The water was by no means cold and had small particles of dirt floating in it, but still Kakó swore that every drop of water he consumed was absolutely refreshing. Perhaps he was so thirsty that the water would have tasted good if it came from the sewage system, or perhaps the loss of feeling prevented Kakó from noticing all of the added minerals in the water.

As Kakó began walking back home after (legally) obtaining three men’s worth of olives from a family friend, he suddenly hesitated. ‘I wonder,’ he thought to himself, ‘should I go see that old man again?’ Despite having some troubles he had managed to get to the fountain without injuring himself, Kakó had an unignorable desire to go see the old man again. ‘Well, it's not like I have anything else to do,’ he reasoned as he altered his course.

Despite having only traversed the route once, Kakó managed to make it back to the old man’s house without losing his way. As he approached, he noticed that the old man was sitting on his wooden porch simply taking in the sun. “What are you doing,” he asked as he got close enough to the man to hear him speak. “I’m sitting on mah porch. Wuzzit look Like I’m doing,” the old man rebuked. “But why? Do apostles of Apollo get power from the sun,” Kakó asked, genuinely intrigued. “Well, yeah, but also because it's a nice day outside,” the old man spat. “Didja get hurt again?”

“I’m fine. I just felt like dropping by,” Kakó stated. “Doncha kids have school or somethin,” the old man groaned. “I still have two weeks until I start,” Kakó explained. “Ah, so you don't even gotta blessin yet, do ya,” the old man cackled. Somewhat bitter, Kakó didn’t answer, and simply sat beside the old man, the conversation from earlier in the day replaying in his head.

“So,” the old man asked once more, “what’re ya gonna do now?” Kakó sighed. “I should probably go back home soon, but I’m not in a rush,” he responded. “That’s not what I mean. What I mean is, what’re ya gonna do about the other situation,” the old man barked.

Kakó’s eyes fell to the ground. “What can I even do?”

“Well, ya could pursue an education, join the military, and a whole helluva lot more depending on what blessing you get,” the old man offered. “But… none of that feels right. Why should I get to live my life? I’m not saying this because of my involvement, but… I don't know… it feels wrong that I get to do something with my life when he doesn’t,” Kakó explained as he began unconsciously picking at his cuticles.

“That, sonny, is something called survivor's guilt. You feel bad that you get to live and the other guy doesn’t,” the old man spoke. “Now, there’s no real way to get rid of it, so the only thing I can recommend is thinking before you make any decisions. So, take a minute. What exactly do you wanna do with your life?”

Sitting on the old man’s words, Kakó swallowed. “I… want to make up for my mistake. I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again. I…” Kakó fought back tears. “I want to mend all of the injustices in the world so nobody dies an unfitting death ever again.”

The old man chuckled. “Sounds to me like you got yourself an idea, but I recommend waitin until you get your blessing start plottin anything specific.”

“I know,” Kakó sighed as he nodded in agreement.

“Also… thank you,” he stuttered as his face dyed red, causing the old man to burst out into laughter. “Good luck out there, kid. And don’t be afraid to stop by if you got any bruises or booze,” he chuckled.

Kakó smiled as he stood up. “I’ll make sure to come back.” While smirking, Kakó dusted off his shorts before stepping off of the old man’s porch as he began to walk back home. ‘Wait,’ he remembered, ‘I don’t know where my house is from here.’

…

The sun sank further west as dust kicked up from Ándras’s boots found its way into his mouth. Making sure he was on the right path, he took a glimpse at the soil storm to his right, which showed no sign of dying off any time soon. “Okay, I believe I know the path from here, so I should get us there within the day,” Voós stated.

Unresponsive, Ándras kept staring at the soil storm. Something about it made it incredibly intriguing to him, making it difficult to look away. “Ándras,” Voós repeated, hoping to snap him out of his stupor. Wordlessly, Ándras began walking again, his gaze still glued to the giant cloud of dust. It is as if he saw something in it.

“I am aware that the soil storm is a unique phenomenon, however I do request that you keep your eyes forward,” Voós stated, causing Ándras to finally fully turn around.

Now wasn’t the time to get lost in thought. He needed to get home and help his poor mother.

Steeling his resolve, Ándras took one last look at the soil storm before diverting his gaze towards the shallow mirage of the familiar town that sat directly in front of him.