by Zy J. Rykoa
Chapter Eight
We fall.
January 15, 997 R.E.
They were gone.
Jaden stood facing the trees outside of the cave, shaking a little. There was a slight chill from a mild breeze in the mountains, cooled by the icy kiss of a light drizzle that fell in waves across the land. Water droplets trickled over and splashed onto the leaves in front of him, delicately passing down a complicated weave to meet the dark rocks far below. He watched each drop pass, unmoving, but saw none.
They were gone.
Thunder rolled out over the heavens, a deep, resonating tone far in the distance, reminding him that he was still alive, still flesh and blood. He had survived, somehow. The attack should have meant his death. He should have died then, with his people, with the ones he loved. He should not have been standing here now, alone, a failed shell of what could have been.
A tear made its way down his cheek, his mother’s face returning through memory. They had no idea of the beauty they had destroyed, the innocence they had ruined. She had been the perfect mother; kind, loving to all. She had never harmed anyone. She did not deserve such a horrific end. How could they have done this to her? How could it have happened?
The last moments before his home disappeared played out in his mind. He had failed her, just as he had failed his family and friends. They were gone … all of them. Gone.
The thought repeated over and over, as if only to entrench itself deeper within his mind each time, cutting through the last threads of his sanity and sending sharp pains slicing into his stomach and chest. Never again would he look upon their faces, hear their laughter or feel them near. Never again would he know the comfort of his mother’s smile, or the pride he felt as he helped his little brother through the pains of childhood he knew only too well. They were gone, never to return, leaving his world at an abrupt end.
He should not have survived, he cursed angrily at himself. He should have died while trying to save them.
His eyes fell, closing as he bowed to the trees, bare feet inching closer to the ledge. It should never have happened—the attack, the loss of innocent life, his survival—none of it. All should have been as it was; a peaceful village going about its days free of any troubles that may have plagued the world around it, and he still in bed, sleeping soundly before waking to the loving warmth of his mother’s and siblings’ morning greetings. He had forgotten how much he had enjoyed it, so lost had he been in the troubles of the invisible hell that had closed upon him. It pained him to think about it, how life had changed so dramatically in the space of hours. It almost seemed to taunt him, that it all could have been avoided so easily. In a few hours, they could have escaped. They would have lost their home, but they would have had each other still and found new land elsewhere, away from the wars. It could have been so different.
He winced. He knew he could not bring his home back, nor could he return his family to life. He could do nothing, nothing but take a single step forward—embracing the only justice he could bring to an otherwise senseless crime. His village was in ruin. His life had already been taken away from him. There was nothing left to lose. All would be forgotten beyond the edge before him.
One step. That’s all it would take to make the pain go away. One step and he would be reunited with his family. One step and he would never need to endure such loss again.
His left foot rose to move forward, moments of his life passing before his eyes. It would all be over soon. He would know the peace that only nothingness could bring.
He paused, holding off the dark of oblivion as a western wind caught his attention, the rain and hair brushed from his face by its gentle caress. He opened his eyes to look in the direction it had come from. It had frightened him. It didn’t feel right. There had been a voice in that breeze, calling him, asking him questions he did not understand. No words had been spoken, not a single phrase uttered, but it had called to him, somehow.
He blinked. In the gap between the trees, there was nothing, only his imagination playing tricks in the emptiness—strange silhouettes in the early light of dawn against grey clouds, no more. His left foot touched ground, what was beyond the edge suddenly forgotten.
He shook his head as he found himself trying to change the past again. It didn’t matter anymore. They were gone. All that they had built was lost, and all that they had dreamed was now an endangered memory. After him, the spirit of Callibra would be extinct. The military force had been victorious over the Callibrai, and soon they would have defeated the Daiyus family. He, too, would now perish, because of his father’s failure to bring the protection he sought.
His father…
Tyral had been fighting Kobin before the attack. Why were they fighting? Was it because Jaden had been selected to go to war? Was it because the force they brought had turned against them? Jaden stepped back from the ledge. He had never trusted Kobin, but even he could not be foolish enough to bring a hostile military unit into the village. It didn’t make sense. What had happened? Was his father still alive? He would be captured, but he could still be alive.
Jaden sat down, crossing his legs as he rested his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, trying to make sense of it all. He wanted the pain to end, but he now realised that he didn’t want to die. He couldn’t. His family had given him everything so that he would live on, no matter what happened. He understood now why his grandfather had spent so much time speaking with him, readying him for fears he had never known, horrors that didn’t seem to exist. It was all for this. Vennoss had known war would come to them some day. He had wanted to make sure Jaden was ready, but he must have known nothing could have prepared him for this. Everything had been destroyed in a matter of hours. Everything had been lost in an instant. All the wisdom in the world could not have done battle with the emotions he now felt. He was beaten, empty and alone. Aches were rampant throughout his entire body as his head throbbed with the echo of gunfire from the night before. There was nothing left, nothing he could do.
It was no longer safe in Callibra so close to the military force. Jaden knew he would have to leave, if he wished to live. His grandfather had wanted him to go north, but there was nothing for him there. He could go west and seek shelter in one of the safe nations, but knowing that the military force had come from that way, he wasn’t sure if any of them would be friendly anymore.
Jaden looked up into the trees again, now seeing the droplets and their chaotic rhythm as they danced down through the leaves.
What is this world? He suddenly found himself wondering. He knew of the beauty that it possessed, yet it all seemed so alien now. These trees had grown tall on the mountain from its dirt. They had been sculptured by their environment; by the amount of rain in the seasons, the many vines that threatened to choke them and the various insects that made them their home. They could just as easily not have existed, and yet here they were, standing tall, defying the laws of uncertainty with their presence alone. They were beautiful, the highest expression of what they were.
A shudder of pain washed over him. He could run from the tragedy only for so long before questions and memories began to take control of his mind again. His mother was dead. His family was lost. They were gone. Why? Why had it happened? Why now? How could such cruelty be real?
For all the beauty there was, it was bitterness that seemed to reign in his thoughts. The marvel of the wilderness, the Earth and its rings and all the wildlife that roamed in between, all of it meant nothing. There was only the tainted memory of what was, what he thought had been, and all of it had been a lie.
This world was evil.
He felt himself falling inside as he curled over onto the hard wet stone, the pain unbearable. Tears were coming freely to his eyes as everything replayed over and over, making him want to scream, to cry out for someone or something to come and save him, to take him away from this and put an end to the misery. He couldn’t go on like this. He couldn’t hold these memories if his sanity was to be lef
t intact.
The seconds turned into minutes as he lay broken outside of the cave, his eyes drained and voice a frail whisper as he mouthed the question “Why?” a final time.
When he could find no answers and cry no more, he sat up, staring downward into the trees. The aches had not left. The visions still seemed real. The questions ever present.
Why? Anger began to surface. Why were his emotions tormenting him so? Why couldn’t he escape this pain? Why couldn’t he break free of its hold?
He had to do something. Anything. He needed to move, to be heard or to see something outside the small space he had found himself trapped within. He stood up and walked past the cave, heading east. He didn’t care what he was doing, all he knew was that he would go now, and walk to wherever the road would take him. He would travel until he found a low ridge he could cross easily, and then he would make his way around the mountains to the south. Unless there were men stationed around the entire area, he would be safe on this route.
It felt good to be moving. It distracted him. By having to navigate over the slippery rocks and mudslides, he was forced to use all of his concentration just to remain upright. There were no manmade trails set through the mountains; he had to force his way through the shrubs, fallen trees and greyed, collapsed branches as he went, welcoming each challenge as a means of escape. Finally he could be free of the torment, as long as he kept moving.
These parts of the mountain were filled with wildlife, most of which was hidden, but he needed to duck under and go around several large spider webs as he went. Their poisons would not kill him, but they would make him very ill, and there would be no healing from his mother this time. When he was younger, he had accidentally run straight into a lot of the webs he encountered, and while most of the spiders quickly crawled down his chest to get away, some had left their mark. Sometimes their venom had repeated on him, even after his mother’s help. They had left a strange sickness within. Milayiss, the illness his grandfather had mentioned perhaps came from this. Maybe the dreams had been from the same.
He stepped around a large rock half heartedly, almost into another web between two trees, but he had stopped cold in his tracks, oblivious to the web in front of him. He had seen something else, something far below the pass. A flicker. Movement. His weary eyes scanned cautiously. Someone was down there. Soldiers, he thought, looking for him. They would be scouting the land for any survivors, so that no news of their arrival could travel.
Another flicker. This time he was sure of it. He moved around the trees to get a better look. He could see them now, standing in the open. One man. No more. Jaden moved curiously through the few plants for a clearer view of the entire area. He had glimpsed a cave behind the man where there had been more movement. He was right. There were others sitting behind him, inside the cave. What were soldiers doing inside a cave?
He thought hard, but could only come to one conclusion. They were not soldiers at all. They were Callibrian survivors. Had others made it out? Yes, they must have. He wasn’t the only one. There were hundreds running for the mountains.
Almost tripping over, he raced down the slope to them, startling the man standing outside as he neared.
‘Jaden,’ said the man in surprise. ‘My boy, you’re alive!’
Jaden studied him. He was badly beaten, bruised and cut, marks of the attack covering his body, but otherwise in good health and considerable spirit. The man was Don Lohera, an elder of the village. He had always been a wise and calculated man, one of the few who did not partake in the rivalry of the social clans. His long, matted grey hair hung loosely in his face from the rain and his voice seemed calm yet raspy, as if he had accepted what had happened, but had suffered greatly from it.
‘And you, Don,’ said Jaden, looking at the others in the cave, grim expressions on all, no excitement to see his arrival. They, like Don, were also from the north of Callibra, but they did not share the same enthusiasm that Don did for all Callibra-born people. They only favoured their beloved Pioneers.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked Jaden.
‘Waiting, I expect,’ said Don. ‘Don’t mind them, they are finding it hard to cope with the grief, as am I, but I try to stay away from pity, it is not good for one’s blood.’
Jaden acknowledged the expression with a nod. ‘What are you waiting for?’
‘Other survivors perhaps, a plan of some kind, or the grief to pass. Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘We can’t stay here,’ said Jaden.
Don nodded knowingly. ‘You’re right, but you’ll have a task trying to convince them of that.’
‘We have no choice,’ said Jaden, pausing for a moment. ‘I will try.’
Jaden walked past Don to better see those within the cave. He knew they did not mean any disrespect by not greeting him. They were broken, just as he was. But they could not simply wait here. As his grandfather had told him long ago, when a village or city was conquered, the victorious army would seek out all survivors and make sure their security was not breached. It was for this reason and more that they had to leave Callibra.
Jaden’s eyes focused on the group near the back of the cave. He had seen a large figure, a familiar, young but bruised face in the small amount of light. He realised then who it was. Beneath a gashed brow and a swollen, blackened eye was his nemesis, Ardim. He stared for a moment, but felt no anger. In this tragedy, they were brothers. Petty battles had always been fought, but there was no hatred for the one who had attempted to bully him so often, only sympathy and empathy for the poor young man who had suffered such loss. Even one as strong as Ardim had been powerless against the soldiers. They had been large men, even greater than Ardim’s family. And now Ardim would understand what it was to be physically overpowered by someone greater in stature.
‘Ardim,’ said Jaden, and then waited for a reply.
Ardim looked up slowly, their eyes locking briefly, as if speaking silent thoughts to each other. For once in their lives, there was understanding between them, all past troubles being forgotten. Ardim gave a small nod and returned his gaze to the floor. There would be no words spoken, but they were enemies no more.
Behind Ardim, Jaden could now make out bodies lying down, sleeping, he hoped. It was still early morning, they would need their rest after the shock and terrible images had been burnt into their memories. Those who could not sleep simply sat with their heads hung low, still ignorant of Jaden’s arrival. It pained him to see this, even though they were his rivals, he did not like that they had been treated in this manner. He would never have wished such a fate, even on them, the ones that had made his days more difficult than they should have been for his entire life. For all their wrongs, they were still his people, and this was not a just punishment.
‘I am going to find my father,’ he said, as carefully as he could manage, deciding now that he needed a new plan of action. He was not alone. There was still hope. ‘I last saw him on the road to the west. I think he’ll be going for help. We’ll bring an army to fight the Alliance.’
There was silence. None even seemed to hear him, let alone understand.
‘You are all welcome to join me,’ he went on. ‘Together we can bring them to justice.’
Again there was no reply. Jaden began to wonder if they were ignoring him on purpose, or if they had been made deaf by the explosions. He softened his tone further as he realised they may have been in too much pain to give him their attention.
‘Who will come with me?’ he asked.
‘Your father is dead, Jaden,’ said a man abruptly.
Jaden searched for the voice. It had come from near Ardim, almost sounding like Ardim’s voice but different somehow, deeper, raspier, more mature. Jaden first guessed it was the eldest brother, but soon saw it was actually Kal, the father of the two.
‘No,’ said Jaden confidently, now able to reveal his own father’s secrets freely. There was no need for secrecy any longer. ‘He is still on the road. He has been negotiating wi
th the greater nations to protect Callibra, but now they will fight for us.’
Jaden stopped as he saw the faint outline of Kal’s head shaking from side to side.
‘Your innocence is a terrible thing. The fool was not bringing an army for protection—he was leading them to conquest.’
‘My father is not a traitor,’ said Jaden sharply.
‘No. For all his ignorance, he was not a bad man, but he was used. Of that we can be sure.’
‘You can’t be sure of what is not true,’ Jaden interrupted quickly, shocked at the disrespect being shown toward his father.
‘Your father told you he was brilliant, no doubt. He was not. We all knew what he was doing. The ones that destroyed our home were the same ones he was in talks with, of that I can assure you.’
‘Then why didn’t you stop him?’
‘We tried, boy,’ said Kal harshly. ‘He fought us. We let him win thinking he would not succeed. We are too far from any threat to the Alliance. There was no advantage to take our land. Your father must have been more gifted in speech than we gave him credit for.’
Despite his distaste for such petty insults, Jaden felt slight relief. It didn’t make sense. He could breathe. For a moment he had almost thought it could be true. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said, his tone containing the previous venom of hatred used between the social clans.
But Kal was indifferent to it. ‘Believe what you wish. Your home, my home, they are no more. They came from the west, the same way your father had left. If he were not killed then, he would have been by one of their scouts. Go after him if you must, but he is dead.’
Jaden fought hard at the feelings of despair rising inside. It was hard to oppose one older than he was, even if it was a man he despised. And worst of all, there was logic behind those words. Deep inside, at the core of his being, he could feel himself being persuaded to believe the same, no matter how much he didn’t want to. The fact of the matter was that he didn’t know what had happened to his father, who he had been talking to in the other nations or if this army was the one he was hoping would protect Callibra. For a moment Jaden had found himself believing that this army was from Kobin’s doing, while his father had another on its way. One thing Jaden and Kal seemed to agree on, though, was that this army was of the World Protection Alliance, and if that were true, any army his father could bring now would most likely have little to no chance of success.
‘So you’ll just sit here and wait for death?’ Jaden asked desperately. ‘I will not stand around while the Alliance goes unpunished.’
‘And what would you do?’ asked Kal, now showing slight agitation. ‘They are a trained military force. We are but humble farmers at best.’
Jaden thought a moment. ‘We will not defeat them, but we must try! We can use their weapons against them!’
‘Weapons?’ Kal almost laughed. ‘How will we get these weapons?’
‘I will get them. I know the village better than they do. They will not find me.’
‘Just like your father. You live in fantasy. You do not yet understand what the Alliance is capable of. If it were possible, I would have fought them in my homeland, and I would not have brought my family to Callibra. Let it go, boy, we have been beaten. We will move on from here when we are sure there are no other survivors.’
Jaden was silent. There seemed to be no hope. Everything he could think of was being pulled apart, as if nothing he could do would matter, that it was all lost. He was at an end without anywhere else to go.
No. He couldn’t accept it, he couldn’t return to the pain, the helplessness and self-pity. It couldn’t be this way. It just couldn’t. He had to try, something … anything!
‘If I am able to bring you weapons, will you fight them with me?’
Kal took some time to reply. ‘It will do little good, but if you really believe you can, we will help you. I am tired of being pushed out of my home by them anyway.’
‘I will not fail.’
‘For your sake, I hope not. Once you have entered their lines, there will be nothing we can do to save you. You have until dawn tomorrow.’
‘I will be back by this night.’
Kal seemed to want to disagree, but then simply waved his hand. ‘Whatever you say, Daiyus. Be gone, we are still in mourning.’
Jaden bowed and exited the cave entrance. He had what he had come for. A purpose. Now he could go on living; he had a means of revenge. The Alliance would not go free from this crime.
‘I will return soon,’ said Jaden, stopping briefly at the man outside.
‘That is a return I hope to see,’ said Don warmly.
Jaden looked hard one last time at the wise elder in front of him. He had expected something more to be said. This man did not even attempt to stop him from going to almost certain death, as if he already knew there was nothing that could have been said or done to prevent it. As always, Don had showed perfect understanding of the people around him. Jaden nodded once in a gesture of both respect and farewell, and then without looking back, set out into the trees.
It was up to him now. He could make a difference. He could fight those who had destroyed his life. He would avenge his family’s death, or he would lose his life as they had.
As he neared the village, he became more cautious in his steps. He had made good time down the mountain side, but suspected there would be many scouting groups searching for survivors here. Any mistake now could cost him his chance at getting the weapons he needed and even mean his death. He had found it best to travel in random intervals—stopping erratically to be sure there were no other sounds apart from his own movements in the forest.
Everything was damp, giving off the familiar musty scent of wet wilderness as the usually crisp and dry foliage now acted as padding for his footsteps. He was able to move somewhat freely by this, but he would not throw caution to the wind with so much at stake. His father had taught him never to take risks when there was no other option but victory. It was why it could not have been true that the army his father sought had attacked instead of defended the village. His father would never have made such a mistake.
But Kal was right. Their homes had been destroyed. How could it have happened? Could his father have forgotten to practise the rules he had taught so well?
No. That couldn’t have been right. His father had said it was Kobin who was handling the matters. Perhaps that was his father’s mistake. He had let Kobin manage the negotiations. Kobin would not have taken as much care in them. It could have been by his actions that Callibra was gone.
Jaden shook his head. It seemed to make more sense. His ill feelings against Kobin had probably been right all along, and now they had all paid the ultimate price; they had lost what was most dear to them. If this was the army they had set out for, then both his father and Kobin would most likely be dead by now, and there would be no chance of salvation with the coming of a second military force.
Jaden grabbed at the trees to help himself up the steep slope, making sure he did not slip on the muddy surface. This was the final hill before the fields. It would not be long before he was within reach of the Alliance. Already he could hear the occasional shouting of orders and strange machinery in the distance. He began to feel sick by the sound alone, knowing the evil that it represented. He would need every ounce of strength he could manage to stay focused now.
He froze. His jaw locked and a sickening burn became apparent inside his stomach, as if the acid within had now turned upon him and was trying to escape. He had reached the top of the hill. He could now see what had become of his village. The acid from his stomach then felt to be lifting up into his throat, burning all it touched, and his hand reached out instinctively to the tree beside him, meeting with its bark as he fell to one knee.
It wasn’t there.
The buildings … his home … the many gardens throughout the village … none of it was there. His entire village had been destroyed. He had not thought of what he had expected to see. It was
as if he had refused to believe that anything had happened at all, and that by the time he reached this hill, he would simply see his village the way it had been the day before. Now the reality struck him deeply, making him feel weak, unsure and frightened. What had they done to his home? Even though it was before him now, he could barely believe that it was real.
With the little strength he could find, he looked up and searched among the piles of rubble left in place of the buildings. It was a smoking graveyard, barren of any structured form. The only thing standing was a military fort, occupying the heart of the Tennagen field.
They had used the sacred land. As the final insult to his people, they had built upon that which was to remain untouched. Anger began to boil at this realisation, his fear and uncertainty losing strength. He could not put into words how he felt. There had been grief to the point of breaking him inside at the deaths of his people. The loss of his mother and siblings had torn his heart, making him feel helpless. The destruction of his village had made him want to collapse in shock. But none of that was enough, and now they had ruined the only land he had ever known as sacred.
With the anger taking control of his body, he stood and continued on his path, his mind empty of all but a destination. A goal. A purpose. He would find his way into the heart of the village, over the cracks in the ground from the earthquake, to his beloved Tennagen field, and then he would enter the fort and retrieve the weaponry he needed. Then he would do whatever he could to bring down the Alliance.
As he entered the village, he took the route past the smoking craters. He would risk coughing in hope that the soldiers would be elsewhere. The stench of burning dead made him feel ill as he passed the many broken houses, but he did not stop or turn away. He kept on—his determination growing with the lives he knew had been lost in each. He slowed his pace as he closed in on the fort. Much of the vegetation was still intact here, as well as a couple of buildings that had been close to the Tennagen field. He was able to slip through a band of trees into a small dip in the ground, where he found shelter under an area of large ferns until the next thin band of trees. Beyond them was his destination, the military fort of the Alliance.
He did his best to keep below the fern leaves as he made his approach. If he touched them, the moving tops would be visible to the lookout towers set up around the area. He could see bright beams of light scanning over the land from them, and occasionally a soldier or two moving around up on the walls. The walls were dark metal, a demonic presence compared to the light sandstone houses of the Callibrai, and stood at just over two storeys high. As he knelt down at the final band of trees before the fort, Jaden was able to see through the small gaps in the shrubs ahead of him. In each direction, he could make out forty yards of the wall if he leaned forward enough. It was a towering, unassailable fortress, with slick polished metal in the lower sections and lines of barbwire near the top. Even with his determination, he could not have climbed them.
He had to find an alternative. There was only one entrance in sight, north from where he knelt, but even from here he was able to see that two heavily armed soldiers guarded it. He could walk around the fort until he was able to find a weakness, but even then he did not like his chances of getting inside. The Alliance was a trained force, remaining protected in war was what they specialised in. It was why they controlled three of the five inhabited continents.
Jaden sat back, thinking over all of the stories he had heard. They had all told of amazing escapes, where people fled from the Alliance and lived to tell the tale. None had ever mentioned someone attempting to attack them, to seek revenge and enter one of the forts. It seemed he would be the first, if he could find a way.
With the same care as he had moved with earlier, he decided to make his way toward the opening he could see in the north. It took him close to twenty minutes to make it there, needing to stop continually to suppress the nervousness. He had never been so close to his own death. He knew what a potential slip could mean for him. When he arrived, he sat almost directly in front of the two soldiers, who were now only fifteen yards away at the wall. They almost didn’t seem real. They stood so completely still even their breathing was invisible. The roar of the machinery had drowned out the few sounds Jaden made as he moved through the ferns. The guards were oblivious to his presence. From here, he could wait and watch. He was not sure what he would see, but knew he would need to study his enemy before he was able to defeat them.
Close to an hour passed without any change. There was more daylight now, allowing him to see more clearly, with even the different shades of green on the guards’ uniforms now becoming apparent. Jaden used the opportunity to learn more of the guards. The guard on the left of the opening was a thin man, not much taller than Jaden if he stood, and on the right was the typical soldier the Alliance was known for; broad shouldered and a giant in height. Both had hardened, unflinching expressions and were completely upright. He could make out several of the lookout towers clearly now, one or two of them empty, while the others had turned off their spotlights. This would be his last chance to move before sunrise.
He had been contemplating one possible route into the fort. It had hindered his movements in Tennagen matches, but now it could come to his aid. The stream ran directly through the centre of the field. If he could get to it, he could swim underneath the fort’s walls. It was only another twenty yards from where he sat. It was a risk, and he needed to be able to hold his breath for at least a full minute as he swam gradually forward, but it was a chance he could not forgo. It may have been the only one he’d ever get.
Again with as much care as possible, he made his way north through the ferns. He had done this many times in the past as a child, pretending he was wandering through mazes as he hid from his friends. It brought back fond memories that warmed his heart a little, but the feelings did not, knowing that those he sought to hide from now would do more than just capture him. For every second he was here so close to the Alliance, his life was in constant danger.
He reached the stream a few yards from the tree line. There was better visibility here. He could be seen easily. He wanted a safe place to enter the water in case he gasped audibly from the cold. He put one foot in first, sliding it onto the bed below before putting his next foot in and allowing most of his body to submerge. The water was not as cold as he had expected, but it had been polluted with oils and debris from the attack. He would not swallow any, nor would he open his eyes when he was under the surface, in fear of what toxins might poison him.
He waded forward along the bank, using the rocks to pull himself along when he could, and then at the outer band of trees, he took one final deep breath and kicked to the bottom. He stayed along the edge, even under water, hoping to be hidden by the rocks that he used to move himself forward with. The wall was only another ten yards away, but he needed as much of his breath as possible to come up for air again without making a sound.
Blindly he swam, trying to feel a difference in pressure or judge the light around him to know that he had reached the wall. When both failed, he guessed that he had reached it by how far he had swum and quickly came up for air. The surface was broken only slightly, not enough to rouse any attention, but he was still several feet from the wall. Taking another breath, he swam downward again, this time touching the wall but then coming to a halt. Halfway under, he found he could swim no further. There were bars, crisscrossed all the way along the width of the stream, blocking his entrance to the fort. He swam left and right, up and down, but it was no use. The entire way was barricaded. The fort was secured, even to the stream.
Quickly he swam back out from under the wall to get another breath, his heart almost skipping a beat as he broke the surface another time. There was a man kneeling just a few yards away from him. If he were to look over his shoulder, he would have seen Jaden immediately. Jaden guessed he was saved only by how little sound he had made when he came up, and the low visibility underneath the wall. But neither seemed true, as
the man was quite busy doing something on the ground with his ears covered.
Jaden swam to the other side of the stream to get a better look. The man was using several instruments, each in a seemingly random order on top of a black box. Without warning, the man quickly got up, taking his instruments with him and then placing the black box another fifteen yards away to the east. There he repeated the process, taking several minutes to complete it. When he was done, he stood up again and moved to the next position, another fifteen yards south. Jaden glimpsed a red beam come alight between the first two points before dulling again, two black devices now evident.
When he heard a shout from behind him inside the walls, his curiosity of the devices disappeared and he made his way back underwater. He soon returned to the place outside the opening, where the two men still stood guard. He had been even more cautious in his return, as the man who used the strange instruments seemed to be making his way along the entire wall. Jaden had had to wait for him to finish and move on before he was able to go forward, making the journey back even longer.
With his clothes wet and energy used, Jaden began to feel tired, and slipped slightly as he knelt down, crushing a small dead fern branch a little.
‘Did you hear something?’
One of the guards had roused, waving his torch all over the trees. Jaden had to remain as quiet as possible, completely still to avoid capture.
‘No, calm your nerves,’ scorned the second guard. ‘I won’t warn you again.’
There was a pause, and Jaden began to wonder at the cowardice in the voice of the first guard who had spoken. He was the smaller of the two, the one on the left. Everything about him seemed uncertain now. His posture was weak and actions fearful. This was not the kind of soldier expected in the Alliance. He was a man, just an ordinary man fighting in a military unit. He was not the monster of the stories, the bringer of death and hate. Maybe the Alliance soldiers weren’t as invincible as had been said, he thought; they were men after all, and as always, all men had their weaknesses. Why should these men be any different? But then, both had spoken his language. The first might have been from Lassah by his accent, but the second accent had been foreign. This meant the weaker of the two was perhaps new to the Alliance.
The first guard swallowed nervously. ‘Understood.’
‘Our replacements are coming, let’s go.’
The first guard nodded, checking one last time into the trees before following the other’s lead into the fort. Moments later, two more guards took up the post. Jaden watched on eagerly. It was a slight opening in their defence. For almost ten seconds, Jaden would have an opportunity to gain entrance to the fort. All that was left now was to wait until the guards changed over again. He had said he would be back by this night, but the other survivors had said they would wait until morning. He had time. Gathering some fist-sized rocks, he looked for the black device the man had planted ahead of him, and with a plan firmly set in mind, he rested his head against the dirt, getting what little sleep he could before the next change of guards.
In the coming hours, he would have his revenge.
