Three solid bangs on an old shack door.
Then three more...
And three more.
An explosion rang; a scream too, a cry for help. A memory, not here, not now.
She was eight years old when her mother died, and two days older now. Her name was Yua, but nobody cared, not anymore.
Three more bangs.
Yua's eyes rose from the dusty old looking-glass. Home, she was home. Not in the rubble. Not in the death. Her mother's corpse did not lay bloody and burnt before her. Walls sealed her from the bitter cold of the early morning. Bandages blocked the blood from her eyes. The icy winter rains were held back by shabby wooden tiles, they no longer froze at her seared flesh.
"Child! Open the door this instant, by order of the ministry!" A voice rang out. A cold voice, angry and authoritative. A soldier?
Yua rose from her bed. She passed her mother's empty cot and stood to the door. "I know you are in there, child! Open the door now!" The voice rang yet again.
Yua did so. The door swang with a hollow creek and a blast of ice flooded the barely insulated shack. Yua looked up to the soldier and he looked down on her. She didn't like his face. Aged and marked in the wrong places. Wrinkled from fury not laughter. "It is far past time for assembly, child. Punitive measures will take place." He said, raising a hand to slap her.
"What the fuck are you doing?" cried another voice. A soldier like the one before her but this one was scarred and his armour dirtied. He clasped the other's arm to stop his slap.
"My job, you fool." He retorted, pulling his arm free. "She is an hour late for assembly. She must be punished."
"Look at her, corporal. She's battered. She was probably in the attack." They spoke about her but never to her. As though she were a fine vase with a crack through the middle.
"It doesn't excuse..."
"Yes... It does." The second man interrupted. He turned to face Yua with a false smile, seemingly dismissing the cold soldier. "What's your name, kiddo?"
Kiddo. Cold painful rains. Hot painful flames. Kiddo. She said that. She is saying that. She is burning and bleeding... and dying. She still loves her daughter, though. She says: "Run, kiddo. Run far." And she dies. She died. She's been dead. Two days dead. She isn't here, she isn't saying kiddo. Somebody else was. Somebody else was stood in front of Yua. Maybe he can help? Maybe he is here to save her mum?
No, he can't help her. She is two days dead. He is here for Yua. He is talking to Yua. He asked her a question.
"Yua... sir. My name is Yua." She eked out. She did not meet his gaze nor did her eyes wander. They were fixed forward. Not on anything in particular, just forward.
"He is right, Yua. Even if he is a prick. Assembly started an hour ago. You know your way?" The soldier tentatively asked. Yua couldn't answer; instead she nodded her head and walked past the soldier, never daring to look him in the eyes.
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A crowd had gathered. Men and women, near on 10,000. This was typical in the stacks where Yua grew up. ASAG, a fishing territory under the control of the Ministry of Galithia. Yua carved a path through the great crowd. She weaved between torn rags and wooden prosthetics. She ducked the legs of fishermen trying to get a proper view of the stage. Eventually, she had managed to reach the front rows. Before her and the crowd of ragged peasantry stood a thin line of pure white armoured soldiers, armed with rifles, holding the rabble back from the ornately carved stone stage.
A well dressed man stood astage; mid-way through his address. He wore the garb of an officer, a commander. He spoke of schedules and quotas and things Yua could not understand. His words were flowery and elegant. So much so that the folk listening could barely make out the veiled threats should quotas be missed. He rambled and babbled and espoused and declared. Words and commandments Yua had grown all too weary of even at her young age. Platitudes and foreign values imported to maintain control over the furthest horizon of the Ministry's empire. Yua waited in bored silence for the end of the address, or at least for some news.
Yua's wait was rewarded when, at the very tail end of the address, a prisoner was dragged astage. "Now, ladies and gentlemen. I bring forth my final topic of discussion." The commander began with a flourish of his hand indicating for the young man to be dragged in chains. "Two nights past our community suffered a terrible affront. A strike at the heart... The very core of ASAG. Two nights past, a bomb was detonated at Lucky's bakery, claiming the lives of three women; two men and a child. Injuring countless more, no doubt. Both physically... And mentally." He took a breath, lavishing his eyes over the enraptured crowd.
"For how may we sleep in peace knowing killers, murderers, scum! Prowl our streets and claim the lives of our friends. Today, a bakery. Tomorrow? Mayhaps... a school? A hospital? They are not like us! They know no empathy nor do they comprehend the sanctity of life." A stir began in the crowd. A subtle symphony of rising fear. The commander paused a moment, allowing the crowd to settle; to simmer.
"But - brothers and sisters - we are not without hope! My men have worked tirelessly to apprehend the murderer responsible. My friends... We succeeded. I hold before you, Josef Vie. An agent of the so called Phoenix Alliance. A group of terrorists - and make no mistake, terrorists they are - that seek nothing but to undo the good and the hope given unto us by our friends in the Ministry. Yes, hard times are to be had under the ministry. This much is obvious. But look, friends, at your alternative!"
Josef was shoved to the ground at the commander's feet. He cackled and laughed like a raving lunatic. He mumbled words none could decipher as his eyes darted all around the crowd. Face to face, to face, to face. He looked as though he was imagining what each man, woman and child looked like without any skin. The commander knelt beside him, seemingly unfazed by Josef's blatant lunacy. He grabbed Josef by the throat and rose him to his feet.
"This is the quality of our enemy. The depths of their depravity is plain to see." The commander placed Josef before a microphone. "Tell them why exactly it is you murdered women and children! Butchered them in these very streets!"
"I greet you all, ASAG!" Josef said. The entire crowd fell deathly silent. It was not a good silence though, it was the kind of silence one could slice with a blade. Josef took a breath and loosed a wicked grin. "It is true, I freely admit, that I - Josef Vie - am responsible for the attack on Lucky's bakery!" He stood a moment, basking in the crowd as though awaiting applause. "You may ask why I did so... My answer would be simple! I wished the bakery to be gone. It was ugly and frankly, it ruined the aesthetic of the whole block!"
The crowd yelled out in disgust as a wicked cackle filled the air. The idea that so many lives were affected; so many families torn apart, over a simple artistic fancy. Yua listened to the man talk, he wasn't a soldier, he was a performer. He spoke like a supervillain from one of her shows. He chewed the scenery as if he wasn't facing the headsman's axe but an adoring theatre. Reason fought hatred within Yua. She looked upon this man, this beast, Josef and knew him to be her mother's killer and yet within, deep within, a part of Yua screamed out that something was being withheld from her. Yua hushed her suspicions; allowing her grief and rage to flow. She found herself joining the crowd in yelling and insulting Josef. Words flew from her tongue she never knew she could say, words her mother would kill her for so much as knowing.
No chance of that now though.
"Friends, please! Be calm." The commander said. He raised his hand to the crowd and, like a well practiced orchestra, they quietened on que. The commander paced for a moment in a ponderous trance. "The Alliance. These... men, bring only slaughter and misery. They promise liberty and freedom and deliver these only in death! They lie, they murder, they strike at what makes us human!" The commander looked over the crowd. His eyes locked with Yua. He appraised her and noted her wounds. "Now, ladies and gentlemen. I am but a humble instrument of you, the people. As such, I present the people with a choice." He declared with a stifled grin.
"Josef Vie requires punishment. I leave his fate unto you, the people." He said, with his crooked smile on full display.
Roars erupted from the crowd. "Death!" They called. "Shoot the bastard!" They demanded. The commander looked out to his crowd, to his beautiful orchestra - played to perfection.
"You." He commanded. Pointing directly at Yua. "Come."
As quickly as they had erupted, the fickle crowd had settled. All surrounding Yua pushed her forth towards the stage. Dead silence surrounded broken only by the delicate taps of Yua's bare feet against the cobbles streets. Ten steps felt like ten thousand yet she must take fifty more. Eyes pierce the girl like fingers running through sand searching for something of value just beneath the surface. Yua hoped there was nothing to be found but that didn't stop them from searching.
She arrived at the stage. The commander looked her up and down before bowing to her. "What is your name child?"
"Yua... Sir." She responded, shrinking into herself.
"Were you in the attack, Yua?" He asked, kneeling close to her. She nodded slightly, her eyes falling to his shoes. "Where are your parents, child?" He continued. Yua's eyes filled with tears but she did not speak. Her eyes found courage, or perhaps wrath, and fixed upon Josef. "My mother, sir... She... She died in the attack." Yua said, her voice filling with a new strength.
"What was her name?" The commander asked as the crowd began to stir yet again.
"Akemi, sir... Her name is-..." She hesitated. "Was, Ito Akemi." She said as her new found strength began to strain. Yua was surprised by the commander's reaction to hearing this. He paused for a while too long. Left too much empty air. He must know the name, perhaps they knew each other. He looked at her, no longer appraisingly but with familiarity; recognition.
"I really hate to split up families" Josef laughed. "Why don't you go kill yourself and join her? Hell, let me outta these chains and I'll choke 10 grams of lead down your throat. Fuck it! I'll sort each one of you MOG fucks out with your own dose of fire and brimstone!" He continued, filling in the empty air the commander's hesitation had left. For a final time, the crowd grew furious, seemingly actually out of control.
"It's your decision, Yua! Mercy or consequences? Life or death?" The commander shouted over the crowd. He drew his ceremonial pistol and placed it to the back of Josef's head. "Decide!"
Yua stood, staring at Josef. His eyes weren't as crazed up close. His smile seemed phony. He was scared. Yua liked that. She liked that she scared the man who murdered her mother. She liked that his life depended on her word. She could allow him mercy, it would be so easy and it would be so righteous. And yet...
"Kill him."
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He fell down strange. That was her first thought. Yua had seen a man die before. It was like his legs simply stopped working. He folded and collapsed straight down. She heard bones crunch last time. This was different. He fell down strange. He collapsed with a great sway. His arms covered his head before he landed. It was almost like his corpse was afraid of being hurt by the fall.
It was loud, she realised. Too loud. The shot rang still in her ears even over the roaring crowd. He didn't look dead. His eyes were shut, he could just be sleeping. That's when she noticed the red. From his nose; his eyes; the back of his head. More of it than she expected and yet not nearly as much as his victims had bled. Yua thought she would like killing Josef but she was wrong. It didn't feel good; it certainly didn't feel bad and she didn't regret it, but it didn't feel good. Yua felt little. Not sad or happy, not angry, not relieved. One feeling did nag at the back of her mind, however. Yua was thirsty. She would have to walk all the way home to get a drink after the assembly was over.
"Yua." The commander said. He broke Yua's daze and her eyes finally relinquished their grasp on Josef's corpse. She looked to the commander, deep into his eyes now. She had seemingly forgot her timidity. The commander was momentarily unnerved by this but quickly regained his composure. "Come with me, child." He continued, his hand outstretched.
Yua took his hand. It swallowed hers. The wrinkled, well manicured fingers bore no signs of hard work. She remembered her mother's hands. Hard and callused, covered in scars. She thought the two ought to have traded. The commander scarred and the baxter gentle and clean.
She forgot for a moment, within his hand, that yet another corpse lay before her and that a hungry horde had been driven rabid by her single order. She forgot for a moment, within his hand, that she - even amongst the horde - was well and truly alone. He pulled her away towards a craft. It flew an inch above the ground on four blue engines radiating a purple wave of energy that looked to her like legs on a dog. She sat in one of four empty seats and the commander joined her. Two guards sat across from her. They were real soldiers. Cold and distant yet completely present, aware.
The open door slid shut with an audible seal. Yua was too small in her seat to wear her belt and so she sat on her knees to prop herself high enough to look out of the window. They were moving. Up and up. She couldn't tell, she had been in a carriage before and felt her belly swing around inside her as it moved but she didn't feel anything right now.
It was all so small now. There was her school, and her street and the park she played in with her friends...
There was the bakery. The crater. The graveyard. So small she could crush them all at once with her thumb alone.
It didn't matter now. The commander was taking her away from it all. From the loneliness, the cold shack, the angry horde who looked as ants from here. None of it mattered.
"Sir, Cannee has been extracted. Moving to VESTAG." The left soldier said. He took his hand from his ear and rested it on his rifle.
"Good. He did well today, see him taken care of." The commander said. Yua noticed him glance over to her. It was a look she knew well. It was a look her mother gave her when she had overheard something she wasn't supposed to. Something spoken accidentally without realising she was present. She had a gift for being forgotten, overlooked. A gift well utilised throughout her childhood much to her mother's dismay.
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They began to descend at their destination. A fortress less than a few kilometres from ASAG. Yua looked out at the great walls. She couldn't tell if they were steel or concrete but they stood thicker than her entire house and more than ten times the height. Rings of bunkers and hangars surrounded inside and out of the walls. Soldiers marched in formation and tanks rolled to their beds. Within the walls was a kind of village. She saw tall towers and rows of homes. Not like the homes at ASAG. These were large, ornate. Wood and brick rather than splinters and tarps. Painted in all colours and surrounded by greenery and lavish gardens. At the centre, the most resplendent of them all. A grand mansion of European design. A cathedral of military might. Guard houses encircled the majestic fields around the home.
The craft touched down in the mansion's garden. A designated parking spot, it seemed, for the commander. The door opened and the air seal broke. Lavender and rose, lilac and gooseberries. Air so fresh Yua assumed she must have stepped out into a cloud. No oil, no steel; no blood and iron. The rot of fish and stench of sweat were already mere memories after a single breath. Her bare feet met wet grass as she dropped from the ship. It was the first time she had ever felt grass, real grass not the green plastic behind her school that cut her knees and palms. "Come, child." The commander whispered as he stepped out from the craft. "When we enter, Yua, I expect you to stand straight and speak when spoken to. Understand?" He asked.
"Yes, sir" She answered, straightening out her back. His tone was cold and his eyes seemed filled with dread. He looked Yua up and down as though justifying something to himself. He turned on his heel, stood straight with his head held high and his hands linked behind his back, and marched on. "Very well. Follow." He ordered. He paced much to quick for Yua, she bounced and almost ran to keep alongside him. By the time they arrived at a grand staircase, Yua had drained her stamina entirely. The commander looked at her and began up the stairs without a word. Yua hopped up, one by one. Chasing close at his tail.
Someone stood at the peak of the staircase. He wore a suit, old fashioned but elegant; fresh and timeless, unlike the sagging old man wearing it.
"Good afternoon, commander..." He said. His voice was gentle and clear but had faded after a long life. He turned to Yua and, after a short appraisal of her ragged garb, lightly bowed to her. "And who may our guest be? I don't believe our general has sent for any new servantry?" He asked.
"Not a servant." The commander corrected. He stepped beside the man and whispered something in his ear. Yua could not hear what was said but immediately noticed the man's expression soften. The commander stepped back beside Yua.
"This is Stanley Aicht, the general's personal aid." He motioned for Yua to introduce herself. She sputtered and mumbled and tripped over her words but after gathering herself, she stood straight and looked Stanley in the eyes. "Yua, sir... My- my name is Ito Yua." She said, only lightly stumbling. Stanley looked at her with a mixture of confusion and something else, something Yua couldn't decipher. Curiosity? Not quite. He looked her in the eyes with a familial warmth. "Ah, a native. I see... Welcome, Frau Yua, it is the pleasure of a lifetime to meet you." His smile was sincere despite his 'refined' attitude. Yua returned it in kind.
Stanley ushered the two into the house. They walked through a grand hallway, adorned with historical paintings. The frames didn't hold the titles of the picture but the names of battles, years. One painting, A woman without eyebrows grinning before rocks and water, was labelled as "Macao, 2162. Eight casualties." Stanley noticed Yua trying to read the label beneath the painting and walked over to her. The commander didn't notice the two stop, that or he didn't care, and continued on. "Her name was Lisa Gherardini." Stanley said. He moved beside Yua.
"Who was she?" Yua asked, seemingly entranced by the painting.
"I don't know. Nobody does anymore. Before the old war, I'm sure everyone knew. She was one of the most famous women in the world. Now... We can only guess. The painting, we believe, was created in the 1400s. By whom or for what purpose is lost to history." He said. His words were twinged with a hint of sorrow, a mourning for what was lost.
"That's sad." Yua said. Stanley laughed at the innocence of her response.
"Yes, I suppose it is. And yet there is a certain beauty to it, don't you think?" He pondered.
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"For hundreds of years, this painting was the single most famous image in the world. Now? Simply a curiosity in the hallway. None before you have bothered to know her name and once I pass, you may well be the last to know it." He paused a moment. "All that fame, yet what did it ever do? All knew her and yet a painting never fed a starving child; never took action to make the world any brighter. She simply sat there, grinning, as the world ended around her. So why this painting? Why Lady Lisa?" Stanley looked to Yua. This was not rhetorical, he was asking her opinion.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"Maybe it wasn't the lady in the painting? Maybe it was why she was painted." She answered. "Maybe it was who painted her?"
"You think the painting to be more than the paint?" Stanley asked.
"I- I don't know what that means." Yua admitted. Stanley looked at her again. He smiled. It was a new smile. He smiled as though he knew something she didn't. He smiled as though she gave the right answer to a question she hadn't been asked. "Come along, Frau Yua. We have much to do before the general arrives." Stanley began to walk on.
"What? I'm meeting the general? Why?" Yua asked, stood still in fear. Stanley turned back to her, his smile still so warm.
"Ah, I apologise my lady. I had assumed you had been told of your meeting." Yua fervently shook her head. "General Hosun Akyama, the ward of the east, the lord of this manor, has invited you to an audience this evening when he arrives home." He announced.
"Why me?" She asked.
"Why? For your mother, of course."
For her mother? What did that mean? Yua was about to ask for elaboration but Stanley raised his finger to her. He moved on and Yua realised she would have no answers until she met the general.
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"My heavens, child! Bones and sinew! Where's the meat?" Called the kindly old woman as she washed the dirt from Yua's hair. Tug, pull, scrub and splash. The most violent bath she had ever endured. Having her eyebrows plucked and nails clipped felt closer to torture than a spa treatment. It was safe to say Yua was a stranger to customs of so called high society. Not all of it was negative, however. Once the grime was scrubbed and burnt from her skin, a young woman sat her down and spoke with her. She couldn't have been older than twenty. She brushed Yua's hair as they spoke. She asked Yua's story. Her past, her hobbies, her friends. She spoke like they were sisters. Yua had always wanted a sister. Somebody to play with and talk with, it was nice to pretend, even for a little while.
The girl coated a thin foundation on Yua while she asked what her favourite food was. She used eyeliner and blush while she asked about her childhood and Yua answered all her questions enthusiastically until finally, as the girl applied the finishing touches, she asked "Where's your mum today?" Yua choked on her smile. She tried to think of a way to answer without ruining the conversation.
"She's... well. She passed."
The girl stopped dead. "Yua, poor baby, I'm so sorry! I had no idea. You must live with your father then, right?" She asked. She didn't let Yua answer. She pulled her into a hug and held her tightly for a moment. When she released her, she looked deep into Yua's eyes without saying a word.
"I- don't know my father. My mother told me he was a soldier; that he died fighting some battle against a band of Macks." Yua said, trying to break the girls attention before she broke down to tears.
"So, it's just you now?" She asked. Yua didn't answer. She just shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I'm being awful. You don't want to talk of this." The girl said, shame filling her cheeks. She jumped out of her chair and ran over to the door of the room. Yua watched her. She was awed by her beauty. Her deep brown hair flowed and shimmered down to her shoulders as she sprung across the room. Her smile radiated and shone. Her kind hazel eyes glimmered with hope. Yua found herself jealous of the girl, of her effortless beauty and grace.
The girl swung the door open and a legion of servants entered holding elegant gowns and beautiful outfits. None of which had any place being near Yua. The girl looked at Yua with a gleeful smile. She picked out one outfit after another. She threw one out as "The colours don't match your aura." She threw another saying: "no, no, no! We have to show off that smile!" She threw ten more away for reasons ranging from being too "Scorpio" and being too pretentious. All the hassle was worth it in Yua's eyes, for the end result was breath-taking. A deep purple dress with a white rim. Sleeves looping over her thumb. It was simple and unencumbered yet beautiful. The girl fiddled with the fitting and brought it to fit her properly. She brought Yua's raven black hair into an ornate braid that reached the middle of her back. She had emerald plates within the braid and along with the modest dress, made Yua feel like royalty; like a princess.
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A grand table sat proud in a room decorated by fine art and finer servants. All was perfect within the dining room, not a hair out of place. Yua was guided by Stanley to sit at the head of the table. She did so. One after another, soldiers and politicians entered the room. People of high esteem, all announced upon their arrival for deeds of their forefathers. Yua felt their eyes all fall upon her. She felt out of place, like an attraction in a zoo. They sat along the table and spoke to each other. None spoke to Yua, however. She sat for an hour or so before she noticed the girl from earlier sneak in. She stood amongst the servants. Yua waved to her but the woman didn't move. She stood to attention alongside the other servants, still as a statue. She did let off a small wink, however, and held back a smirk upon seeing Yua trying to get her attention.
"How was your time here, young Yua?" Asked the commander. He walked in from behind her and sat in the last empty seat beside her. "Incredible, sir! Everyone has been calling me the guest of honour." She answered. Yua was struggling to stay seated. She was giddy and bouncing as she looked around the grand hall. The commander placed a calming hand on her shoulder.
Before her, on the grand table, was a feast. Succulent pork, fresh fish and sizzling beef. Mounds of potato, carrots and peas. More food than Yua had ever seen. On a plate directly before her was perfectly roasted char siu, dressed with spring rolls and a side dish of wonton soup. Just as her mother made before she went on a trip in the weeks prior. Just as Yua had described to the serving girl earlier. When did she have chance to tell the cooking staff about her favourite dishes?
Six clashes of silver on glass silenced the hall of false heroes. The servants walked to the sides of those sat down. Yua felt a hand stroke the back of her neck. She looked behind her to see the girl from earlier. She was stood tall and looked to the roof just as all the other servants did only she had subtly put her hand out to Yua. Yua took her hand and sat waiting for what would come next.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Your host for tonight has arrived. I present to you: General Hosun Akyama, leader of the ninth battalion; the ward of the east; the grand victor of the battles of Macao, Berlin, London, Beijing, Ho Chi Min; slayer of the Tenant and personal champion of sect head Matias Malthines!" Stanley rang out. The whole hall rose to this. The servants placed their hands across to their hearts. The girl nudged Yua to get her to stand. Yua slid from her chair with a light thud. She realised only then, that she was shorter than the table. The girl struggled back a giggle at seeing Yua's forehead sliding across the table as she stood on the very tips of her toes.
Yua could not see the grand doors swing open, nor could she see the tier of man that entered. She could not see his short black and grey hair. She had no idea he was wearing an impressive, yet heavily worn, military uniform. His chest was heavy with medals, ribbons and commendations. The perfectly polished boots couldn't hide where the soles had been thoroughly worn down. While his face bore no notable scars, his sleeves barely contained dozens. He entered and marched forward to the opposite head of the table. "I welcome you, friends, and I apologise for my tardiness. Some business with an old friend, I'm afraid. Seems he decided to redecorate a fortress with high explosives. But enough of that! Tonight we celebrate, tonight we feast, tonight we..." General Hosun trailed off. His eyes fell on the opposite head of the table. The barely contained laughter of the serving girl stood over the forehead bouncing up and down, apparently attempting to get a good view. He looked over to Stanley, wordless but his mouth agape. Stanley dashed to his side and whispered into his ear. Hosun did not react well to whatever Stanley had to say. He fell down into his chair and looked over to Yua's forehead. "Akemi's?" He whispered to himself, seemingly in disbelief.
Hosun raised his hand, seemingly remembering his guests and they all sat in unison. The girl had to help Yua back into the chair. She stroked Yua's hair back into place and moved to fill her drink. Yua composed herself and looked out to the table only to realise that everyone was focused solely on her. Her face drained of all colour. She looked to Hosun, finally. She saw his face. She realised he was 'a native' the only such gentleman in the hall. He looked somehow familiar, a feeling she was sick of at this point. Something was too familiar about everything here, as if she had been here before, time and again. Hosun looked at her, and through her. He wasn't seeing Yua, he was seeing a ghost.
"Ah, fuck it." He grunted to himself as he stood from his chair. "Everyone, my deepest apologies, but it would seem I have more pressing matters to attend to. I must ask you all to move along and we will attempt this evening again at some other point." He announced.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would follow me." Stanley announced. The guests followed obediently. Nobody dared grumble or moan. They simply filed out smiling and bowing. Yua stood to leave with them but the girl placed a firm hand on her shoulder to hold her in place.
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A moment of silence passed as Hosun looked just behind Yua's eyes. He walked from his seat and knelt down by her side. Still, he didn't speak. Yua looked into his grey eyes for only a moment before nerves took her over and she shrunk into the girl beside her.
"Miss Ito, is it?" He asked.
"Y-yes, sir." She whispered. "Yua, sir."
"Your mother, Yua, describe her to me." He commanded. Yua squoze the girls hand and she answered for Yua.
"Sir, we spoke earlier. She described her mother, Akemi, as tall; dark haired and muscularly built. She was a baxter, and passed away in an alliance attack two days ago." She said, looking to Yua for confirmation.
"two days? The alliance? That doesn't make sense..." Hosun said. He paused for a while, he looked to be deep in thought then laughed. "A muscular baker, ey?" He looked to Yua. "Did she have any scars?" He asked. Yua nodded.
"Yes, sir. Many. She said they were from her time escaping the alliance." She answered. Hosun laughed again. "Any specifically notable scars?" He asked.
"Yes sir." She answered after a moments contemplation. "She had a line - A deep scar along her forearm. Oh, and she had a new one! She went away, about a week ago. When she got back she had a scar through her palm." Yua recounted. As she spoke, Yua realised how strange it was that her mother - a humble baxter - was so thoroughly covered in scars. Yua began to bite at her cheek, a tic she had inherited from her mother during stressful times.
"Okay... I believe you, Yua." Hosun said. His voice was warm but not coddling. He didn't speak to her like a child but an old friend. "There is much you don't know about your mother, Yua. Much I can teach you." He said. Yua didn't speak. She looked at Hosun blankly. What did he know?
"Sir... General. C-can I ask..." Yua began before her nerve caught her tongue.
"Go ahead kiddo, please."
Kiddo. Not again. He said it too. Kiddo. Why was everyone saying it? Why did she feel the blood again? Why was her mother in front of her again? Why was her skin melting from her flesh? Yua was in a dining room, not the bakery, so why could she smell singed flesh? "Run, kiddo. Run far." It echoed from the walls, from the ceiling , from the table. But there was no table there? There was no table at the bakery. She wasn't at the bakery. Kiddo may have rang in her ears but it wasn't her mother's voice that it rang in. It was a man. A man sat in front of her. He could help her. Not her mother, nobody could help her - she wasn't here. He could help Yua. She could help Yua. Who is she? She held Yua's hand. She was beautiful and smiled like an angel. Not Akemi, this was the servant, the kind girl. Yua realised she didn't know her name. It didn't matter, she was a friend and she was stood in a dining hall. Yua was too. She was stood. Why was she stood? She was sat earlier but now she had stood up. She was walking. Leaving the dining room. Where was she going? Hosun was talking to her about secrets and opportunities but Yua couldn't hear him. She was too focused on walking. Left foot; right foot. Left foot; right foot. The girl lead Yua by the hand. She didn't speak but kept her smile. Hosun walked ahead. Things were clearer now. Guards stood vigil around her. Stairs. Left; right. Left; right. "Don't fall Yua." She thought to herself. "Please... just don't fall."
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"Yua." Hosun said. He had been talking but only now noticed Yua hadn't been listening. Yua was startled but finally regained her focus. She looked to Hosun. They were in a new room. It was darker and had no windows. A large mat lay across the floor. Wooden weapons hung from the deep red walls. Square pillars were rowed along the skirts of the room, holding up the ceiling. Red tinted lamps dangled from exposed wood rafters. "Are you alright?" He asked.
"Yes, sir. I- I'm sorry." She stuttered. Yua couldn't stop her hand from shaking so she gripped it with her other tight enough that she felt her fingers go numb. "It's just..." She began.
"Just what?" Hosun encouraged after a moments silence.
"Just... Why me, sir? Why am I here?" She finally asked. He didn't answer for a moment. He seemed deep in thought. It seemed to Yua as if he was deciding how best to answer the question without letting something slip. Finally, he answered with the truth. "Your mother, Yua. She wasn't a baker, or baxter as you said. She was... A spy, a soldier. A close friend."
A spy? Akemi? Yua couldn't believe what she was hearing. Akemi was so normal, so typical. A loving mother, a pillar of her community, not a trained killer. Hosun could see her confusion and doubt plainly across her face. He placed a hand on her shoulder and moved her to the back of the room. Above a mounted spear was a framed photo. In it was a young man, Hosun. He was skinny, scrawny even. Nothing like the hulk stood before her. He wasn't alone in the picture, however. There was a dark haired teenage boy and a tall blonde girl stood huddled over a flame. Yua scoured the picture for some kind of explanation until she saw, clear as day, Akemi; her beloved and devoted mother, armed to the teeth in sleek black body armour. She looked lethal, dangerous. She looked like a whole different woman, but it was her; there could be no doubt.
"I owe her a lot, more than I could ever hope to repay, even now. But she's gone. Frankly, the least I can do for her is... Well, make sure you are taken care of." Hosun continued. He paused to allow Yua to answer but let out a resigned sigh when she didn't speak. She was completely entranced by the picture, by her mother. Hosun shifted, awkwardly. The floorboards beneath him screeched out. "What I'm trying to say is... I could take care of you, raise you." He said, his confidence waning. "Train you." He finished. Hosun scratched behind his ear as he tucked his hands away within his jacket. Yua looked up at him. Her gaze was distant, confused. It unnerved him greatly. Yua noticed that she made him uncomfortable. She was curious why. Something sparked in Yua's mind. Something had been off this whole day. Josef, the commander, the servant girl, Hosun. Something wasn't adding up. Hosun noticed her deep thought. Her wrinkled brow and out stuck tongue. He laughed with a tinge of timidity. "I recognise that look well, Yua." He said. "You're figuring something out... Putting something together." He smiled warmly. A twinkle of nostalgia held his eye. "Your mother made the exact same face."
Yua considered. It started with Josef. He was evil. Pure evil. He revelled in death and raved in suffering. Was it a coincidence he killed her mother? A ministry spy with connections as high as the warden of the east. Did he target her? Was it an assassination instead of a terrorist attack as it seemed? No, that man was rabid. Yua didn't believe he was capable of planning an assassination. Akemi's voice rang in Yua's mind. "Evil is performative, an intimidation tactic. No man is truly evil they just have much to gain from you dismissing them as such." Was Akemi trying to tell her something? Yua thought back to the stage. To Josef, knelt in chains before her. To his eyes. Not crazed, afraid. Akemi was right. He wasn't insane, he was lying. The whole time he spent on the stage was a performance. But who was he performing for? Why would he want civilians to believe the alliance was evil? Unless... He wasn't with the alliance. What was it the soldier said to the commander? "Cannee has been extracted. Moving to VESTAG." Who was Cannee? If he was simply some soldier why was it that the commander didn't want her hearing about him? VESTAG? Yua had heard of VESTAG. Another stack just like ASAG. They had suffered an attack recently too. Could it be a coincidence? Yua gathered all her thoughts. Akemi, a high ranking spy, had been killed in a supposedly random attack by a supposed alliance operative who was pretending to be insane. The operative was then killed and died in an overly dramatic, almost false, way. Somebody called Cannee had been covertly extracted from ASAG and taken to VESTAG.
"Don't leave me in suspense, Yua. What is it?" Hosun asked after an uncomfortable moment silence.
"It wasn't Cannee, sir." Yua said. She paused to gauge his reaction and was pleased to see him so unnerved by her saying that.
"How do you know that name?" He asked. Yua didn't respond, she looked him in the eyes with unbroken focus. "You shouldn't know that name." He said. His tone was serious, almost annoyed. "So i'll ask you once and you will answer. What wasn't Cannee?" He demanded.
His reaction gave Yua confidence. She was right, Cannee was related, maybe even responsible. "Cannee, sir... That's Josef Vie's real name. The man they executed earlier." She stated. "He's an actor, a performer. He pretended to be Josef Vie, to be the killer." Yua stated. "Right?"
Hosun looked at her. He was serious, angry, but not at Yua. He wasn't angry at what she was saying but that she had been given enough information to say it at all. He raised a hand to hush her and turned his back. He crept over to the serving girl and whispered into her ear. She left the room in a hurry. Hosun didn't turn back to Yua. "Anything else?" He asked while looking to the door.
"The attack that killed my mother. It wasn't random, right? It was an assassination. The alliance found her and killed her, right?" She answered with much less vigour. Hosun didn't answer again.
The door swang open with a great crack! The commander barrelled down the stairs like rolling thunder. He stood before Hosun, panting. A layer sweat glistened from his reddened face. "Sir! You called for me?" The commander panted. A small bead of sweat dripped from his nose and landed on his tongue. He sputtered but refrained from spitting in the general's presence.
The general's boot stomped down before the commander. Hosun could feel the commander's baited breath against his face. His wrath was evident despite his stoic visage. Hosun stood a foot taller than the commander. A soldier, a warrior, stood before and above an aristocrat. One stood with cool confidence earned over a lifetime and the other shook as he tried to maintain his lessening composure. "You have a problem... Commander" Hosun whispered, hatred seethed from between gritted teeth upon calling the coward a commander. He didn't receive a response and stepped closer. "Our young friend here seems to believe you are a liar."
"Sir?" The commander eked. His eyes fell to Yua but quickly snapped back to the roof.
"She seems to be under the impression that your captive, Mr Vie, isn't in fact an alliance spy but is an actor. Do you have anything to say to that?" Hosun said. The commander looked awkwardly between Hosun and Yua, unsure of how to respond.
"How dare she!" The commander finally reacted. His voice was shaky at first but found its strength soon enough. "I will not have my honour, my integrity, questioned by a damn child... a streetrat... a fucking nativ-" He was cut off by a firm hand to his shoulder.
"A native... James?" Hosun interrupted, cold as ice. Fear overtook the commander. Colour drained from his face. He stuttered out refusals and apologies but none of it could be considered whole words. "Sir! I didn't mean... I just. This child questioned my integrity; my loyalty!" His eyes darted between Hosun's. "I am sorry, sir."
"I believe I'm questioning your loyalty right now, James. It seems you harbour some resentment towards 'natives'. It must kill you to answer to one, to kneel at the boots of your lesser? I'd bet such a gentleman would jump at any opportunity to undermine his general." Hosun derided. His composure began to wain as a spiteful joy slipped from the cracks in his well practiced facade.
The commander fell to his knee with his shivering head bowed. "Sir, I-" He began.
"Leave, James." Hosun interrupted. His voice was cold and assertive and the commander had already left by the time Hosun had finished speaking. Hosun slowly turned towards the photograph of Akemi. A pensive misery drew him in and words seemed to disappear in his throat.
"You're right, Yua. Well done." Hosun said in a withdrawn voice. "You really are Akemi's daughter." Yua couldn't respond. She felt as though Hosun was on the verge of saying something more yet nothing came. A brief silence surrounded them and neither dared to breach it. Heavy breathing and a racing pulse drowned out any distant background noises from Yua's ears. He shifted to look at Yua and she shifted to meet his gaze. "Stay here with me, Yua. Let me teach you to be like her. Let me hone you into something incredible. Something powerful. So powerful you'll never need to fear again. Let me show you your mother's ways. Let me help you..." Hosun pleaded. His voice quivered but he managed to hold his composure. His eyes pierced hers as though he saw beyond the green of her iris. His smile rang hollow and she knew he wore it to mask his desperation. Why was he so desperate for her to stay?
"Why do you owe my mother so much? Why are you so insistent on me staying?" Yua asked. She sounded more confident than she ought to. It was as if she grew larger the more uncomfortable Hosun became. He didn't answer. His eyes pled that she ask no more but he knew she would not desist. A resigned sigh slipped from his pursed lips as he considered his words with visible care. "Akemi and I were... Close. I owe her more than my life. When she disappeared... It- It crushed me." Hosun waited a moment, contemplating his words again. "But knowing why she left... Knowing she left for you; it makes sense now. I know the hole that Akemi leaves within you. I know what you are going through is a hundred times worse than what I suffered. I want to help you, to feel like I'm finally helping her. I want to help you burn brighter than even your mother ever did." His words became somewhat frantic, desperate. Yua started to think that this was less to do with herself and more to do with Hosun's unresolved trouble with her mother.
She tried to appraise him. He stood hunched, his shoulders high. His hands danced between his tightly sewn pockets and his sweaty brow. The calm and commanding general had left with the commander. Stood before her was a man, desperate for something from Yua. Through his nerves and skittish manner Yua noticed his eyes. They were steady and pleading. No matter how much he fidgeted and shuffled - his eyes never waned. He was transfixed, entranced by her. He looked at her not as an apprentice as his words led her to believe. He wanted to love her. He looked at her like a father would a daughter. Maybe he was? Her mother always said that her father was a soldier - though one that had died in battle - was it so far fetched? They didn't look alike; She was short, even for her age, and her hair was a raven black. He was tall and broad with deep brown hair. Her eyes were green but her mother's were brown. She always assumed she got her eyes from her father. Hosun's eyes would have been near black were they not so faded from time into grey.
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Yua had stood in silence for a while too long at this point. Hosun's pleading eyes grew weary but he persisted. He needed an answer. "There is a wisp of flame within you, Yua. Let me fan it - Hone it - into something spectacular... Please."
Yua looked to him. To this man stood before her, seemingly begging for her to trust him and she, for the first time since her mother died, felt hope.
"Where do I start?" She finally asked.