by T. C. Edge
He'll be back, I think, looking towards Perses as he regards Ares, stepping forward. He'll be back to his old self soon...
The Neoroman moves towards us, as his soldiers, and those from New Haven, continue to move through the abandoned camp. He stops in front of Perses, and gives him a nod of respect. I see Perses doing the same in return.
"Empress Vesper didn't start as she ended," Ares says, commanding the airspace with his deep, endless voice. "She started as a fine leader, with only the best of intentions. Yet her pursuit of power eventually drove her mad, leading to her eventual usurpation at the hands of her son. I will admit that my duty held me by her side, as her chief protecter. Yet, it wasn't just duty that kept me there. It was the control she exerted over me, and the soldiers under my charge within the Imperial Guard, subtly interwoven into our very minds over a number of years."
His eyes work again to me, and then to Perses, where they stop. He regards his equal with a drawn out look, before speaking again.
"I understand how you feel," he says, glancing again to me. "Both of you. The very deepest measures of control and manipulation take time to grow and spread. It happens without you knowing it, so slowly you have no chance to question or counter it before you are completely lost. It is no slight on either of you. I trust that you are both now free of the Prime's controls. I trust that you wish to liberate your lands, as you have been liberated yourselves."
Perses nods again, his expression remaining neutral. "Thank you, Ares," he says. "It means a great deal to hear that from you."
I smile at the interaction. Though he remains detached in his manner, I can tell that Perses is quite touched by the man's supportive words.
"And," cuts in Hendricks, opening out his arms, "what of Vesper? You say, Ares, that she took time to assume control of the people. It's probable that the Prime did the same. If that's the case, why do we imagine Brie could possibly take whole populations under her control so easily?"
It seems a reasonable question to me.
"No proof, Glenn," says Burns, providing an answer. "Just a considered concern. The Overseer took her for a reason, and she has already demonstrated the ability to control multiple people at once. I've been present when she's put visions into the minds of a whole room full of people with ease. Even mine, against my will, as a telepath myself. She has something raw, something unpolished, yet something that could be wielded in the most dreadful way. It could just be that the capture of Brie is more significant than everything that has come before."
Both Perses and Ares nod, the two men connecting on the same wavelength.
"She must be retrieved," Ares says calmly. "It is critical that she not fall to the hands of the enemy. For all our people and lands. New Haven, Neorome, and even the people of the Fringe and Olympus, must be united in this."
"And...we are absolutely certain that they're merely running off home to Olympus after a single defeat?" questions Hendricks, remaining doubtful even in the face of all the others.
All eyes turn once more to Perses. "Quite sure," he says, nodding in an almost mournful way. He grunts, feeling at his chest, still healing after being cut through. "The Overseer would have made sure of it," he goes on, firming up his voice a little bit. "They will return home to regroup. Everything that has transpired here has been unforeseen. Your capture of me changed everything, and caused a shift in momentum, giving you the tools you required to outwit Herald Kovas. The sensible option, even for him, would be to return home."
"Then there seems little reason for us to be out here," Hendricks says, eyes scanning the camp once again. "We were never going to find anything of great..."
He stops, his eyes working quickly to the side, right towards the back of the camp. The rest of us do the same, following his line of sight. There, at the rear, I see a unit of soldiers recoiling, falling into hurried conversation, as they search through the final, burned down wagons away in the workers' camp.
"What's going on?" questions Burns.
He gets no immediate answer as the others set off, rushing right over. Ares and Hendricks all but disappear. Powerless as we both currently are, Perses and I follow at a jog, Perses ambling along strikingly slowly in his weakened state. Burns, a regular man but for the wondrous depths of his mind, accompanies us at about the same pace.
We take a few moments to catch up. When we arrive, and I work my way to the front, I find a sight that coils my insides staring back at me.
Bodies, blackened and burned, pile up within the carcass of the smouldering wagon. Some are heavily charred all over. Others remain just about identifiable, certain features of their faces, stricken in terror and pain, visible to my eyes. I recoil, a hand rushing to my mouth at the sight. Other soldiers look on, shaking their heads, dipping them in respect of the dead. The rest harbour eyes of great rage, including Ares and Hendricks, sickened by the sight.
"Some of the workers?" says Burns, scanning the scene with a more detached, forensic eye. "They must have killed them to lighten the load for the return journey."
"Kovas," I growl, my shock turning to anger. "Kovas ordered this!"
"Barbaric," spits Hendricks, baring his teeth as he looks on. "To slaughter them alive like that. Look at their faces. Look at them!" He turns to Perses with that, as if looking for someone to blame. "Is this what your people do!" he growls, looking up at the much taller man. "Is this normal where you're from, Perses!"
"Calm yourself, Commander Hendricks," says Ares, laying a hand on his shoulder from his towering height. He looks to his men, gathered around. "Check the other carriages. Expect to find the same."
They nod and rush off, heading for another of the smouldering carriages not far away. I see them stepping in and ripping the door off, pulling away large, badly burned parts of the frame.
The sight of bodies tumbling out is one of the most harrowing things I've ever seen.
"This is my fault," I whisper, looking on. "This is payment for what I did."
"Don't be foolish, child," grunts Hendricks. "What could you have done to have caused this!"
"I treated them as equals," I say. "Maybe...maybe that was enough."
"This isn't your fault, Amber," says Perses softly. "This is the reaction of an unhinged man, lashing out. Kovas will pay for what he has become. No controls of the Prime warrant such behaviour. This is all him."
"Damn right," says Hendricks, finding some common ground with the former Olympian leader.
"More here, Commander Ares," I hear one of the soldiers shout.
It comes not from the second wagon, but a third within the workers' camp. I turn my eyes in that direction and feel a muted dread in my heart.
Ralph. That's right where old Ralph's infirmary carriage was.
I find myself setting off at a sprint, charging towards the soldiers gathered there. My eyes begin to recognise the shape and form of the carriage itself, its proportions, its position. It's burned out now and collapsed, but I recognise it all the same.
I rush right in as the soldiers pull away some of the debris, revealing a number of bodies lying within. A new fear now builds in me as I see them, a dreadful fear flooding my veins.
What if Jude was caught? What if they brought him back?
What if...
My thoughts are stopped dead in their tracks as a face, a face I know, comes into view. The face of a kindly old man who wouldn't hurt a fly. A man who served to brighten my days whenever I saw him. Who did his best in the terrible circumstances he was given, and never lost his sense of humour even with the end so near.
Ralph's eyes, surrounded by burned and blackened skin, stare up towards me. I know them, even bordered by darkness as they are. I know the shape of his face. I know his old frame.
I stare at him, shaking my head, feeling a great well of anger beginning to burn inside me. A flicker of life, of light, returns to my veins, the dormant volcano threatening to erupt once more. I feel my blood beginning to warm, the fires starting to burn anew. I look at old Ra
lph, my friend, and feel an unquenchable hate lighting in my heart.
A voice hums by my side, appearing as if from nowhere.
"A friend of yours?"
I turn up in slight shock to find Ares there, looking down at Ralph.
I let out a sharp breath, and nod. "He was a good man," my voice shakes. "He only wanted to help people."
"He led a worthy life," says Ares, as if he somehow knows. "No good man should die in such circumstances. It is a grave crime that cannot be forgotten, or forgiven."
"It won't," I growl, holding back the pain. "I'll roast Kovas alive for this. See how he likes it!"
"Calm, Amber," Ares says. He can see the sparking fires slipping through my fingers. "If you lose control now you may see your freedoms here drawn back. Take a breath, and try to relax. Hard as it is, you must."
I do as he advises, drawing a long breath into my lungs. Oh, Ralph only had a few months to live - or so he told me, at least - but this should never have been his end. Never like this. Never on these terms.
The thought brings another boiling bubble of anger to the surface. I turn away from it, and turn away from Ralph, setting my eyes on Secretary Burns as he works towards us.
He regards me as he comes. Perhaps, I think, he's seen my fires relighting...
It isn't something I want to hide. I want no secrets between us here.
"I need another dose of suppression drugs," I say to him as he comes. "I think anger triggers something that helps overcome it. Like when you were in my head. Like with Elian yesterday."
He nods sagely, and then manages to draw a small smile. "Thank you for telling me, Amber. I will speak with the President. I'm sure she will take your honesty into account when deciding whether to let your powers return."
"I don't want them to return," I say, shaking my head. "I don't need them right now. I just want to be normal."
"So be it," he says, nodding in appreciation of my attitude. His eyes turn to the bodies nearby, mingled in with the wreckage of the infirmary carriage. "This world can be so twisted and cruel," he says, his voice going distant. "Sometimes you wonder what goes through a mind to order such an act." He shakes his head, letting out a sigh. "We have seen much of the same here over the years, levels of inhuman cruelty that seem hard to truly fathom. Even the brightest lights flicker sometimes, turning the world momentarily dark."
I think on his words for a moment, and he turns once more to look upon the carnage nearby. I know that New Haven and Neorome have had their troubled pasts, though have now moved further into the light. Can we do the same in the north? Can we change our stars, our destiny, as these two great cities have done?
My thoughts are taken again, snatched away as I hear another commotion spreading from one side.
I turn, almost idly at first, before my mind snaps back into gear.
Soldiers hurry towards the eastern side of the camp, passing the boundary line where the energy shield once was, marked now by a thick black line, where the grass has been scorched and burned away.
The men move into position, as if ready for contact, as they turn their eyes eastwards up the hill. My mind quickly works into a panic as I conjure images of a trap, of the Olympian army storming to their abandoned camp, catching us all off guard as the Havenites twice did to them.
I hardly have time, however, to do anything but stare dumbly as, rising upon the crest of the nearby hill, I see two figures emerge.
I stare at them, squinting against the morning sunlight, as they come into view. And when they do, I realise I was wrong.
There aren't two figures, but three...
My heart works into a thundering beat as I search forward, and begin running their way.
The soldiers relax as they recognise who it is, seeming content to let me pass as I begin working my way towards the hill.
Kira, no longer dressed in her red armour and robes, but in more rugged, neutral garb, marches forward with a great frown over her emerald eyes, her radiant red hair looking like it needs a wash. To her side, stands a sizeable man who holds the look of a Neoroman, with his olive skin and dark hair, his face stern and grim.
Yet it is the final figure that draws my eye most of all, slung over the shoulder of the Neoroman as he stamps his way towards us.
I know his frame, even from afar. I'd know it just about anywhere.
Jude.
122
Is he alive or dead?
The question bursts in my head as I continue to rush towards them, setting my eyes on Jude alone. I get my answer before I arrive, the words pressing into my ears as I hurry up the muddy hill.
"He's fine, Amber. Don't worry, he's fine."
I hardly listen to Kira's voice, as if needing to discover it for myself. I see her nodding to her companion, who lays Jude down on the grass before I arrive. He does so just in time. I slip to my knees and feel at his pulse, looking over his face, his body, for injuries.
Nothing.
My eyes launch up to Kira, and in a moment of utter foolishness, I rush towards her and wrap her up tight. Her reaction is stiff, and awkward. She merely pats me gently on the back, before wriggling from my impromptu and, probably, ill-advised embrace.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I repeat, trying to draw her into a hug once more. She's smart enough to prevent it this time, leaning back, smiling at me in a slightly uncomfortable way.
"Just doing my job," she says.
As her eyes move off, taken by the state of the camp - to return to all this must be quite the surprise for her - I do the same, only looking the other way. A frown falls over my eyes.
"Er," I say, "where are the others?"
She doesn't respond.
"Kira? The others?"
"What?" she turns back to me. "Oh, right, that. We had a few problems. It's just him, as you...requested."
She begins moving off, stepping down the hill, leaving me alone with her Neoroman companion and an unconscious Jude. He looks at me awkwardly and shrugs.
"I...Kira," I call. I set off after her, running back down the hill. I reach her, grab her shoulder, and turn her towards me. "What do you mean, just him? Where are the rest?"
Her eyes intensify as they bore into me. They slowly, threateningly, move to my hand, still clasped to her shoulder. She stares at it as she speaks. "Take your hand off me," she growls. "I've had a long couple of days, and I'm not in the mood for bullshit."
I do another ill-advised thing - I don't remove my hand.
She shuts her eyes in a bid to calm herself. Then, in a swift movement I don't see coming, grabs my hand, pulls it off, and thrusts me a good few feet away from her.
"I got you your damn boyfriend back," she growls. "I'm not your errand girl, Amber. Remember your place here."
She turns and marches off.
This time, I don't follow.
I slowly return up the hill, feeling a little flustered. I find her companion picking Jude up once more. I glance down the slope. "What's up with her?"
His face, equally stern but in a less intimidating way, takes on an expression that tells me I'll get few answers. "We ran into some trouble," he says coldly. "Got the boy. You'll have to make do with that."
He begins moving off.
"What's your name?" I ask, trying to forge a bond of some kind at least. "Are you the Neoroman captain they were worried about?"
He turns back to me. "No," he grunts. "He is still...missing. My name is Maximus, a Senior Commander of the Imperial Guard of Neorome." He glances back down the hill, quickly surveying the abandoned camp. "What has happened here? Your people have gone?"
"Seems that way," I breathe, feeling a little frustrated. "I...well, best go see for yourself."
He nods and heads off, taking Jude with him. I wonder all sorts of things as I follow behind, becoming too timid suddenly to ask anymore questions right now.
What happened to the others?
Why is Jude unconscious?
What the hell has put Kira in such a
fierce mood?
Is she always like that?
More flood my mind as I work down the hill, finding the redhead in conversation with Ares, Commander Hendricks, and Secretary Burns. Perses stands alone to one side, locked within his own thoughts. I suspect Kira must be wondering just what exactly has been happening in her absence.
She probably has more questions than I do...
I join the side of the group as I hear Kira being swiftly updated on recent events, given the abbreviated version. Her eyes fall into a heavy frown, her head shaking as she listens.
"How can they be gone?" she says, grunting the words out. "What about Brie? We need to rescue her."
"We do," nods Ares. "And we will, in time."
"Our path will take us north," says Burns, his eyes narrow, his mind so keen as he thinks ahead. "We have no choice in that now. It is only a matter of when."
"And him?" asks Kira, looking over to Perses nearby. "He's, what, on our side now?"
"He's on his people's side," Burns informs her, ever speaking up for Perses and me. I appreciate that, I truly do. Secretary Burns, like President Orlando, has been far, far kinder than he might have been in the circumstances. "He will fight to free them alongside us. Together we will set this right."
"And...so will I.." My voice is rather more timid than I'd have wanted, drawing Kira's expression towards me. "I'm going to help where I can too."
She regards me for a moment and then begins to nod. "And your other boyfriend?" she asks. There's the hint of a smile, of humour, behind the question, even though it's sternly delivered.
My hand automatically reaches to my neck, feeling at the enflamed, bruised flesh. "He's...coming around," I say.
"Plenty has happened in your absence, Kira," says Burns, as she looks at the injury to my throat with a frown. "We will inform you of it all shortly."
"And all this?" she continues, turning her eyes towards the nearest, burned out carriage. Her nostrils flare, her gaze narrowing. "How many of the workers were sacrificed here?" Her voice becomes a growl as she says the word 'sacrificed'. It must remind her of her experience with Nestor, with the devastation he left behind. Evidently, she knows just what has happened.
