The Weight of the World

by G M Archer

  I waited, blind and deaf, and helpless. It was torture.

  I decided to try to sleep, but it resulted in further misery. I drifted in and out of consciousness, hallucinating and hearing bizarre things, beginning to question reality. Black shapes and voices flickered in and out of my vision. They were torturing me, I decided. This was a joke.

  The urge to rip the blindfold off was almost overwhelming. What harm would it do to go look? Or listen? What could I not see? It made no sense. What was really going on? This was a conspiracy.

  Lifetimes passed. Just when I was on the verge of breaking, a hand tapped my shoulder three times. I jerked the blindfold off my face, and tore the plugs out of my ears. I was exhausted, more so than if I hadn’t slept at all, my night’s turmoil taking its toll on me.

  Joseph stretched and grunted to my side, the other soldiers waking.

  “Wait, how did you know to wake up?” I narrowed my eyes at the man that was waking people up.

  He turned, tapping the shoulder of the last one in our bunk room, “I do not sleep at night. I stay awake, and sit with my hand under a magnifying glass. When the sun rises, I feel the heat on my hand,” he explained, pointing to his palm.

  Daniel and Lakin, down the row from us, rubbed their eyes. They blinked dazedly, looking as drained as me, I imagined. Joseph was similarly worn, wincing as he cracked his back.

  Jess tied her hair up, placing the helm back on her head, putting her face in shadow, reminding me of Icarus.

  “You guys are classic first-nighters. It gets better once you teach yourself to sleep,” she assured.

  “No, we’re not staying here,” Joseph shook his head, “I want no part of whatever this madness is.”

  “What was that all about?” I asked, “Why do we have to be blindfolded?”

  “Hale is going to explain it to everyone at breakfast,” the man that had come to wake us said, “Answer everyone’s questions at once to avoid confusion.”

  “Avoiding confusion is the last thing you people have done,” I crossed my arms.

  Jess spoke, “Let’s get on to the mess hall, then. I’ll take you there,” Jess stood, stretched.

  We followed her as the rest of the soldiers meandered out, Daniel and Lakin going off to find the rest of the Voltaren residents. There appeared to be several bunkhouses, the soldiers nonchalantly exiting them and conversing with each other.

  “Did you sleep?” I asked Joseph.

  “Not really,” he grumbled, “It doesn’t look like you did either?”

  “No, my curiosity almost got the best of me,” I said, looking down.

  Jess heard, turning, “Trust me, you would have regretted it.”

  I glanced at Joseph, and we walked on in silence.

  Jess took us down by the stables, letting Ram free. He ruffled his feathers gratefully, starting to groom himself, and biting the mud off his claws.

  “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen,” she paused, “No, I take that back, I’ve seen some pretty wild stuff. Where did you get him?” Jess watched Ram.

  “I summoned him with a sacred horn,” I walked over and pet his wing, and he studied my hand, warbling disappointedly at my lack of food.

  “Appropriate,” Jess said.

  Listening to the horses whinny down the row, I looked at Jess, “Why was there so many open slots for horses?”

  “Most of ours died,” she said with a twinge of sorrow.

  “Died? Because of what?” Joseph asked.

  “They stop eating after they’re here for so long,” Jess looked back at him, frowning, “They lose the will to live.”

  Joseph glanced at me.

  She walked on, leading us into a small mess hall, some of our traveling group already there. Eventually the rest of our companions joined us, a cook passing out bowls of tan colored slop. I think it was meant to be grits, but it was almost inedible. Swoot walked around and poured some spices in everyone’s, making it where you could at least swallow without gagging.

  “I see why the horses lost the will to eat if it was anything like this,” Joseph grumbled.

  I gave a dry laugh.

  General Hale entered, clearing his throat. He was a tall man that carried himself in an authoritative way, broad shouldered but skinny, with grey streaks in his soot-colored hair.

  “I’m sure you have many questions, and I’m going to do my best to answer them. When you agreed to this journey you were told you would be combating a dark force, and there is one here indeed,” Hale started to pace, his black leather boots clicking across the stone, “We stay to combat it, to keep interest in the swamps so that they do not venture out into other settlements.”

  “What are ‘they’?” Gertrude interrupted.

  Hale rolled his hand, “I was getting to that. ‘They’ are sirens. Long limbed, lanky things. If you hear or see their temptations they will lure you to them, and kill you. We think for the purpose of their feeding, but as ghoulish as they are it may just be in their nature to seek to destroy man’s life. That is why you must block your eyes and ears, so that you are not ensnared by their calling.”

  “How do you know?” the archer asked, “If you cannot see every night how do you know?”

  Hale looked at him, and spoke in a stoic tone, “This fort was here from almost a century’s old war. We were sent here to investigate disturbances in the swamp around a decade ago. In the first night, we lost so many. The sirens seduced men into letting them into the camp, and I suppose they bored of slaughtering us before the dawn came. What was left of our forces barricaded the door and plugged our ears on the next night, too fearful to leave through the swamp. I could see lights, color, things that drew me to the outside, but I was able to overcome it, occupied with the effort of keeping men inside. Some jumped the walls. The ones we dragged away fought us viscously. When the sirens left, and they snapped from their daze, the men wept, describing beautiful women, riches, lost family members or children, all the things the sirens showed them, and they could not question the lures. This led to the practice of blindfolds as well. As long as the gates are closed, and no one can see or hear, you are safe.”

  A moment of silence passed, some murmuring floating through the air as everyone discussed.

  “I signed up to support a revolution, not to fight monsters,” a man stood, “I want to leave.”

  “Alright,” Hale said, “This is something that must be taken care of before we consider such things, but if you must flee, then do so.”

  “You cannot leave others to suffer while you seek glory,” I said plainly.

  The man sighed angrily and sit down again, arms crossed.

  “You say that they must be taken care of,” Mond said, “What measures are you taking to do so?”

  “We trap them. They burn and the sunlight and are rendered helpless. We slay them then. But it’s tedious. I need a way to greatly impact their numbers. I have one soldier who is immune to the calls, but they are fearsome creatures independent of their possessive powers. I need plans to truly fight them, and fresh minds like yours will do well with devising such ideas,” Hale smirked.

  People started talking, excited ideas floating around.

  A woman asked about the wagon owner. Hale told her that he’d been locked up for his own safety and that of those around him. She wasn’t completely comfortable with the answer, but was at least satisfied.

  He left the people to their own conversations, coming to sit down in front of Joseph and me.

  “Joseph,” he smiled, and the two men embraced across the table with a clap on the back.

  “Is this our real reunion?” Joseph asked, with a smile.

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” he turned to me, “You must be Princess Atlas. Pleasure to meet you,” he gave a slight bow and shook my hand with a tight grip, “I hope you can be of assistance in my dilemma.”

  “I can try, but I can’t promise anything beyond that,” I sit my arms on the table.

  “I can’t ask for anyt
hing else,” Hale turned to Joseph, “How has life been, Joseph? I imagine well up to the point where you helped a member of royalty run away? I always loved seeing you up with the Guild at ceremonies, they would be so solemn and you would always be smiling. You always shined brighter than anyone else there. You and your father were some of the most magnificent members they ever had,” He motioned a soldier over and told him to go get something, the boy trotting out.

  He returned with a bottle of ale and some tankards, handing them to Hale.

  Hale poured the cups full and passed them out to us. It was not good, but it was preferable to whatever breakfast was.

  “Well,” Joseph looked into his cup, and sighed, “Considering my father was alienated because he sired a son and I was expelled after being branded, I’m not sure the Guild would agree with you.”

  Hale spit his drink out, “You were what? You didn’t say branded, did you?”

  Joseph nodded, tapping his breastplate.

  “Why?” Hale said, angry.

  “Because the Guild guards royalty, and they did not consider Atlas royalty,” Joseph said.

  Hale slammed his cup down, exclaiming that Varrick could go preform certain activities to himself.

  He looked at me, “I am glad you took her from the castle and the evils within. I’m glad you chose her over the filthy Guild.”

  “What about you, Hale?” Joseph asked, “I see you despise the king, but what else has spurred you into the revolution?”

  Hale looked into his mug, “Varrick sends us little coin for rations. I think he’d see us perish.”

  “Forsaken,” I whispered.

  “Yes, we are,” Hale nodded, but not knowing what I was referring to. He leaned close to where only Joseph and I could hear him, “Truth is, I don’t know if the sirens would leave the swamp if we left, but I can’t risk it. I can’t tell the men, that, however, they would lose faith in the cause.”

  Joseph nodded.

  “Varrick sent us out here after I finished the crusades with him,” Hale continued, “Of course that was also the time that Mary and Leopold died. But things happened on the crusades,” Hale squirmed, “Odd and terrible things. I think this was Varrick’s way to indirectly get rid of me, though I don’t know if he knew exactly what lurked here.”

  I leaned forward eagerly, always curious as to what had transpired on the crusades. Most people attributed Varrick’s cruelty to being changed by his parent’s death, but I knew it had started a bit before that.

  “What?” I asked in the silence, not able to help myself, “What happened on the crusades?”

  Hale looked at me, biting his lip, “We encountered a monster. And I killed one . . . I think it had taken over Varrick’s mind. He trusted it for some reason. He was enraged with me.”

  Jess came into the mess hall and walked over to us. Hale was obviously relieved to be able to stray from the subject.

  She walked forward and addressed Hale, “There were none in the traps today, sir. We found two dead horses in the swamp, devoid of organs and blood.”

  Hale crossed his arms, “Disappointing, I was hoping I’d get to show them one. That will upset the wagon owner, we will have to discuss ways to reimburse him.”

  Jess nodded, then looked to us, “Would you like to come watch or help us reset snares? It’ll let you stretch your legs, and kills time.”

  “Sure,” Joseph finished his ale with a quick swig.

  I left most of my drink.

  We started to follow Jess out, and I turned last second, my desire for answers overwhelming, “What did you kill that made Varrick so mad?”

  Hale was caught off guard, but he spoke in a hushed tone “A warrior of nightmares and shadows.”

  “What?” I said.

  The words to the prophecy. He’d just said the words of the prophecy.

  Joseph grabbed my shoulder, “Don’t press old warriors,” he pulled me on and Hale walked away.

  Jess took us out of the camp, and into the swamp. She helped men hide snares in the mud, pulling back giant bear traps with razor-like teeth.

  Joseph walked out with them, trying to understand, playing with large sticks and laughing with the men. Jess walked back up.

  “You look uninterested, do you want to go back? Let the boys lose a limb or something and we can go do something sensible like polish the weapons?” Jess grinned.

  “Yes,” I said, thankful for the opportunity with my current boredom.

  We started to walk back.

  “I know this isn’t the best introduction, but I thought you were-” I started.

  “A boy? So does most of the camp, except for my bunk,” Jess grinned.

  “Can I ask why?” I said.

  “As of now, I’ve just lived the lie long enough I don’t want to cause commotion with the truth. It started when my parents died, boys can get into the army at sixteen. Women have to be over twenty. It was this or the orphanage. I shaved my head when I was younger just to get in,” she rubbed her arm.

  I looked down, “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Don’t be,” Jess said, looked up resolutely, “My mother and father were both valiant warriors, and good people of faith, as was my brother. I’ll see them again someday. Knowing that is what keeps me from being deceived by the sirens.”

  “Wait, you’re the immune one?” I asked.

  “Yeah. How’d you know there was an immune one?” Jess looked at me.

  “Hale told us we could consider that when thinking up ideas to defeat the sirens,” I said.

  “I kind of wish he wouldn’t of. But I guess I am a leverage point. But just because I don’t see the sirens’ false fantasies, doesn’t mean I could fight a horde of them,” Jess stopped to fix a trap.

  I watched her, “How long have you been here?”

  “A long time,” she bit her thumbnail thoughtfully, “Six years? Yeah, six years, I think. Varrick only sent one set of reinforcements after the first round of fighting the sirens. Which is alright, I guess. The only other death we had was because someone stepped into one of those,” she pointed to one of the sharp-toothed traps.

  I shivered, waiting a moment to speak, “You must be close to all these people if you’ve been here for so long. Are all the new faces jarring?”

  “It’s good to have another girl here to talk to, actually,” Jess said, “You know, besides Monica.”

  “How is she?” I stopped, shaking some of the mud off my foot.

  Jess’s expression soured, “I’ll let you see for yourself.”

  “That doesn’t make me hopeful.”

  “She’s very pleasant as face value. Just leave it there,” Jess started on one of the giant bear traps.

  “What’s your opinion on Legion?” I asked, making sure we were still out of earshot of the fort, considering we could see it now.

  She turned away, and I thought I could almost see a blush under the helmet, “I think Legion has good intentions, he’s just misguided about specific things like Monica and his obsession with killing Lafayette.”

  “Is it only Legion that desires to put Monica in power? Or is she favored otherwise?” I inquired.

  “There are others. Most of the camp speak in her favor. She’s an excellent strategist, a great game player. She could win a war, or distribute budgets, technical things like that, but she wouldn’t care about the lives lost I don’t think. As long as it caters to the needs of the many, she doesn’t care if the few die. Or if the innocent die, just to make a statement” Jess twiddled her thumbs.

  “That’s the same problem we’re facing right now, though,” I stopped.

  “I’m glad to find someone else who sees it that way. Hale will listen to me, but Legion and the men have his sway in on him,” Jess looked at her feet.

  “What is Legion’s motivation for revolution?” I changed the subject back to him.

  “He was branded as a child, for trying to steal gold to feed his family. He was to be shipped eastward with them, but they helped h
im escape before they sailed out. He believes that if he can get into power he can have the resources to find them,” Jess looked away again, “I relate to him, in a way, and I hope for him to ultimately succeed in his quest.”

  Surrendering to my curiosity, I pried, “Are you jealous of Monica?”

  “With Legion?” she barked out a laugh, “No. Monica’s engaged to some noble-boy that keeps blundering around trying to get the mud off of him. I think I’m jealous that Legion doesn’t know who I am, and probably believes I’m a boy.”

  “So tell him you aren’t,” I offered.

  “Sure, and how does one do that? I just go up and rip my helmet off, declaring my affections?” she said sarcastically.

  “Sounds fairly romantic,” I shrugged.

  We both laughed.

  Jess waded out into the swamp, effortlessly balancing herself on tree roots to get to the next snare.

  I paced, waiting for her to return, “A warrior of shadows and nightmares,” I mused again and again to myself.

  I didn’t notice her swift return, “What were you saying?” she asked.

  “I was thinking out loud, mulling over something I’ve heard,” I said.

  “No, I caught part of it, I just want to see if I’m right about what you were saying,” Jess insisted.

  “A warrior of shadows and nightmares. Hale said it earlier,” I said.

  “Oh, a Journeyer?” she said.

  I paused, “A- a Journeyer?”

  “Yeah, have you never heard of them? I guess that myth is a little obscure, but creepy to. My mom would tell it. They’re these weird owl, monkey things and they follow sinners, and when the sinners falter, they kill them,” Jess explained.

  “That would be about right,” I looked off into the darkness of the trees, “I need to talk to Hale,” I said, making back for the fort.

  “Don’t bother him if he’s busy,” Jess warned, “That really gets on his nerves. I’m going to stay and finish up here and I’ll see you later.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” I waved, “and good luck.”

  “You too,” she turned away.

  I took off in an almost jog, slowing as a woman came down the road ahead of me. She regarded me with an almost air of confusion.