Serial
45: Would that I could scream
January
16th, 33 S.D. 09:37 Leitis, Sventa
Alone in the corner of my darkened room, I huddled between the walls. I ever pushed myself backwards, as if straining to compress myself even further into that space. Aside from this, however, I dared not stir in the least. I was hungry. I was tired. I had to piss. Yet I could do nothing. Every time I so much as contemplated doing anything, I heard them. All around me, beyond my house, scouring the whole town, hundreds of foreign men moved about, shifting from place to place. Talking, laughing, cursing, storming, ransacking: the sounds of their oppression reached my ears even as I hid. Down the street, around the corner, in my neighbor’s house, the Henron went, seized, and destroyed. Each noise froze me, rooting me to the little spot I occupied. I was simply forced to sit there on the floor with my knees drawn to my chin.
No matter how I tried, I could not stop listening. If I did, I feared I would miss something, a clue or a warning, and then it would be over for me. They would find me and tear me down, or worse. When sounds got real close, I would lock my eyes on the front door which was visible from my room. Shadows passed underneath it from time to time, dancing swiftly in an out. I stared at the wooden frame unwaveringly, unblinkingly, as it were the greatest fixation in the world. Stay closed! Stay closed! Stay closed! I commanded it from afar, mouthing the words mutely. There were other things ringing in my head, the echoes of my mind. Go away! No one lives here! Search some place else! Nothing to see! Keep out! Keep out! KEEP OUT!
Over and over I blasted these words around as if they really were the only way I could make myself safe. Suddenly, one of the soldiers stopped near the side of the house, none too far from the window peering into my room. Loudly, he called out to someone as he thumped the wall with his hand. In a wave, I felt my body begin to burn; I locked up involuntarily, paralyzed. Only my heart had the courage to do anything. Pumping furiously, it seemed intent on bursting. What appeared to me like an endless stream of seconds passed as I held myself, barely breathing. Why could not the Henron just leave already? Why were they so close to me? Why could the walls around me not simply swallow me up right then and there?
Eventually, however, the soldier went on to some other area, leaving me be for the moment, yet my chest continued to race long after the man departed. Slowly, by minute degrees, I raised my hands to my head. Grabbing the sides of my hair, balling it into my palms, I bared my teeth as I shook back and forth. How long, I wondered to myself. How long until they left... or until they found me? I was just about to lapse into a fit of despair or perhaps madness even, but something ripped me back to reality.
In the distance, I heard a man scream. At first, I thought it might have been my own voice, an internal cry of desperation. As the call pierced the town, however, I knew that could not be the case. It did not stop with just one; more joined the chorus, yelling and shouting frantically. A heavy crash happened somewhere unseen to me as an uproar erupted among the soldiers. The distinct cracks of gunfire followed the clatter of so many steel arms. What was happening out there? Was there still fighting in parts of town? I tried to retreat into myself, tucking my body into a ball. I did not want to be there. I did not want to hear the sounds of war. I did not want to die... More and more of them bellowed into the air in panic and in pain. Though I recognized their howls quite clearly, only snippets of everything else came to me.
“Wolf! The wolf is he-yaargh!”
“She got me! She got me! Aaahh!”
“Are you insane? We cannot beat that!”
“Pull back! Now! Now-blagh!”
“This is no good. Shrieks, retreat!”
And so it went on like that for several minutes. All the while I could hear the town being smashed, as if a boulder were on the loose, rending every bit of wood left and right. Blue light flashed past my window, flickering in tandem with the chaos outside. I closed my eyes and prayed and prayed and prayed that everyone and everything would just go away! I never asked for a war. Henron and I were two strangers who had not met once before. What had this conflict to do with me at all? I clapped my hands closely to my ears, squeezing them as tightly as I could. I thought that perhaps with enough pressure, I could shut out everything and every sound. Maybe I could push it all out of existence, if only I tried. Maybe I could push myself out of all of this.
I do not recall how long I entered into this state, however, eventually I realized that the scene had gone real quiet. For a moment, I numbly wondered if my desires had come true. With quaking arms, my hands dropped to the floor as I looked around. Indeed, the town seemed to have grown still, as if it had inexplicably died. What had happened? I did not feel right enough to leave my corner; I suspected myself somehow mistaken, that I was merely imagining things as I wanted them to be. Yet as time passed and persisted in silence, I began to see that it was real after all. But how, why? I did not immediately care for the reasons though. Unfolding my legs out, tossing my head up to the ceiling, I gasped then sighed. I wanted to sleep and cry and go to the bathroom all at the same time. My relief had finally come, after nearly a day of lying low. My joy, however, had arrived a bit too soon.
Having been on the alert constantly for hours on end, my sense of hearing remained exceedingly sharp. I could easily detect the crunching footsteps of someone walking in the snow. My face contorted as my head slowly rolled down; I looked on at the front door. Who was there? Surely they too would leave. They had to, sa? Everyone else had. A single irksome idea slipping into my consciousness; what if this were the person responsible for all of the previous excitement? I wanted nothing to do with them as much as I wanted nothing to do with the Henron. They would go away too. But, that was only hope talking...
The footsteps continued, ambling across different sections up the street, yet ultimately they seemed determined to draw nearer and nearer. Out of all the things that could have happened, apparently they simply had to come ever closer until they paused right outside my doorstep! Of all the shrieking luck...
Without even actively thinking about the matter, my hand sprang to the side, briefly wrestling with the grip of a pistol. It had been my father’s, but he never had a chance to use it. His gun was all I had in my defense, a last resort if things ever came to the worst. That moment seemed the time. I kept it in my hand, just barely lifting it off the floorboards. I did not actually raise it until there was a knock on the door. Rapidly, I hoisted my arm in front of me. I could scarcely hold my arm straight; all of my control appeared to have vanished as the pistol dived, swept, and jittered around. No longer able to contain myself, I was left panting in short, stuttering breaths.
I waited. If I gave no response, they would leave, right? Another knock rattled the door. There were plenty of other houses here, why seek mine? There was no sense in all of this. Was I that obvious? I maintained my ignorance of whoever was there, and after a bit, as they did nothing, I began to feel slightly better. But... I had not heard them leave just yet. On the contrary, they soon worked the door as if to get in. This development stole every ounce of color from me. At the very least, I had long since locked the door. Surely, I thought, that would prevent them from coming at me.
For this intruder, however, it proved but a trifling barrier at best. By some incomprehensible means, the door seemed to unlock itself. That was to say, I saw the bolts begin to unwind and undo themselves, absent of any human agent. I tried to rebuke whatever force was at work, but I only managed to whimper. The locks fully reversed as I saw the handle twist and twist. Slowly, creaking along, the door swung open. Sunlight cut through the house, blinding me as I frantically tried to steady my gun. However, it was already too late. At last, they had come for me.
Losha pushed the door gently inwards. It felt more than a bit strange barging into someone’s residence, especially after having unlocked their doors. A brief kinetic series had substituted the key, but she told herself that this was an urgent situation. Such breaches couldn’t be helped. With the Henron disposed of and run off, Leitis was practically abandoned, save for the presence of one seras frequency, a survivor. She could hardly ignore this person, whoever they were.
“Hello?” she called, stepping into the home. For an instant as she wandered into the dimness, she could make out little before her, yet she recognized the seras frequency a few meters away. Losha turned and spoke. “Hello there.”
No reply came, however, she heard... sniffling? It also sounded like something metallic were shaking. Exploding all at once, a loud bang erupted from the room just ahead of her. To her left, a cabinet in the kitchen suddenly found itself punctured with a narrow hole. Someone had shot at her, she soon realized. Nevertheless, Losha walked forward without so much as stopping.
“W-who are you?!” a small voice cried out from the darkness. Based on the tone and pitch, she knew it belonged to a child, a mere boy. “G-g-go away! I-I, just leave! No!” As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she started to clearly see the image of a kid. Cowering in the back of the room, he shivered constantly as he tried to hold a pistol firmly.
“It is alright,” Losha said, holding up a hand. “I am not here to harm you.”
“A-a woman...?” the kid asked. “No! Who are you?!” Finding one hand insufficient, the lad gripped his weapon in both. Though the barrel still floated about, he was certain he would not miss at that range.
“I am not Henron. I am Sventa, just like you.”
“Like... me?”
“Sa, my name is Losha Holvate Sventa. I am with the Sventa army, Special Tactics. I was with the Second and Third Divisions recently, but I came here to Leitis as soon as I heard what had happened.”
“You... with the army?” the kid blinked. “Where is everyone e-else then? Y-your comrades?”
Losha halted at the doorway as he raised the gun up at her. “I came alone,” she answered.
“Bullshit! I-I am not stupid. What happened to the Henron?”
“I forced them to retreat,” she said.
“By yourself? N-no w-w-way. Na na!”
Losha frowned slightly. “... How old are you?”
“Do not change the s-subject. What has that got to do with an-anything?”
“A kid your age should not swear so easily. And where are your manners?”
“Se?” The boy’s brow furrowed as he lowered the gun a few degrees. If anything, he thought, she certainly didn’t speak like an enemy or one ready to kill him.
“I have offered my name. What is yours?”
“My name...?” the boy spoke, as if he had to recall it. “Jun Balara Sventa...” he answered slowly.
Losha smiled. “Well, Jun, you can put the gun away; there is no need for that. Besides...” Casting another kinetic series, Losha wrenched Jun’s pistol away, spinning it through the air before she caught it with a single swipe. “You really should not use something you do not know how to handle.”
Jun cried out as he raised his arms in front of himself. “W-what are you? How di-did you... Shrieks!”
“Calm down,” she said, pocketing the gun. “You are safe now.”
“But, that was, was magic.”
“It... It is not not ‘magic’ but if it helps you believe me, that is how I dealt with the Henron.”
Jun simply stared at Losha for a while. “Are they all gone then?” he asked.
“Sa. In Leitis, it is just the two of us.” Jun exhaled as his head fell down and his body went limp, as if he were deflating. “Jun,” Losha said, stepping into the room. “Do you know what happened here? Before I came?” She stopped half a meter before the child, kneeling down to his level. “Do you understand what happened to your town?”
Jun turned his face towards one of the walls. “The Henron came from the east. They... they attacked us yesterday. That was when a lot of things started.”
“Do you know what happened to the townsfolk? Where did they go?”
“I do not know. I saw people running as they came, but...” He wiped his face as his voice broke ever so slightly. “But I heard some were not so lucky that day.”
“I see...” Losha whispered. “Why are you here though? Why did you stay?”
“Me? I... I panicked. My dad, he told me to find some place safe. I tried to find Ver Lesa, but it got too confusing in the beginning, all the commotion.” Quickly he added, “Ver Lesa, she is our neighbor. She watches me from time to time.”
“So you were left alone?”
“Well, sa,” Jun explained. “My dad, he is in the town guard so he... he had a job to do. My mom, she... we never see her these days.”
“Sa... I am sorry,” Losha said, picking up on the euphemism. “You managed to hide yourself. It must have been a terrifying ordeal. I cannot tell you that everything is alright, not now. That takes time. But rest assured, with me you need not worry about the situation.” She touched his shoulder as he looked up at her. His eyes began to well up with tears as he fought to control himself. Jun moved his lips but spoke so lowly that Losha could barely hear him.
“... gone. I know...” His face cracked as he whined painfully. “He is gone... I know he is gone...” He collapsed forward, nearly crashing to the floor. Losha caught him, but by then he had curled up into himself wailing aloud. If his father had tried to fight the Henron, the result would have been all to predictable.
“Shhh...” she said, drawing him close. He grappled onto her, shuddering as his sobs spilled out. Together, they rocked back and forth. In her arms, Losha embraced the very reason she fought this war. The violence of the Central Plains was a senseless force that seared everything in its path. Men, women, children: all were indiscriminately victims of a system founded upon foolish hatred. It would cut through anyone, even those with nothing to do with any conflict. How long would Astens perpetuate these grievous deeds against themselves, she wondered. How long would it take to change all of that?
“Do not worry,” she said softly. “You can cry. You can be sad. That is what our tears are for. They are here to help us.” A sudden pang of sorrow pierced her heart as she recalled the overwhelming loss she had felt that night in Palostrol. Her own father was still alive, true, but for so many years Master Eltin had acted in his stead. She had known Eltin for almost her entire life. She knew exactly what sort of emotions must have been running through Jun...
“W-what... what happens now?” Jun rasped before sniffing loudly. He pulled back slightly and looked up at her. “What happens now?” he repeated.
“We keep moving forward,” Losha smiled. “Jun... you lived. That means something. It means eventually you will have to start walking again. No one expects you to go just now, but when you find yourself ready...” For a moment, she looked around the house. It was but an empty shell of an abode, now nothing more than the depressing afterimage of a former life. Again, it reminded her of the scene as she had left her school, her old home. There was a vacuum here that could not be filled. She sighed slightly as she pushed herself upright.
“Come with me,” Losha said, suddenly offering him her hand. Jun blinked a few times, unable to clearly see her through the tears and darkness.
“What...?” his tiny voice croaked.
“Come with me. I can take care of you. I may be a stranger to you, but we are Sventa. You can trust me.”
“You... you mean it?”
Losha laughed a bit. “Am I really that shady? Of course I will. I... I am here to protect people. I am here to stop this war.”
“By yourself? That sounds kinda hard, you know...”
“It is, which is also why I am not doing this alone. I just happen to be ahead of the others, my unit. They will catch up to us, along with one of Sventa’s three divisions most likely. For now, however, it is just me.”
“Did you really get rid of the Henron?” Jun asked.
“You still find it hard to believe?”
“Well, sa, you are just one woman against hundreds of them. You would have to be some kinda super warrior or something like-”
With a flick of her wrist, Losha brought her servai to life. A blue aura bloomed within the room as she held the tool before him. “Something like this?”
Jun could make no reply; his mouth formed a small circle as he gazed at her brilliant series. “What are you?” he questioned once again. “And what is that?”
“It would take all day to properly describe it. The brief version is that I practice an art known as serialization. It takes the energy from the user’s soul to perform specific actions. This light I hold in hand is one such example. Using it, I was able to beat back the Henron with ease. They have already heard of the things I can do, so I suppose that explains why more fled than fought...”
“Wow... so you really can do magic!”
Losha dispersed the servai quickly; she frowned as she scratched the back of her neck. “It is not magic,” she emphasized. “It is a precise study with concrete theories and ideas.”
“Sa...” Jun said, disappointed, but not altogether convinced Losha was telling the truth.
“I am going to use this power of mine to make certain events like yesterday do not happen again. I plan to use it to change the Central Plains and the way we live.” Though Jun’s eyes were once full and inquiring a moment ago, now they turned away coldly. “Is something the matter?” Losha asked, bending forward.
“Adults always make such big statements,” he said, looking at the ground. “They said the war would be over by now. They said it would never affect us. They said we were fighting to preserve our territory, our honor, so we could live in peace. But, I never saw any of those things happen... Is it going to be the same with you? Is it all talk?”
Losha simply looked at Jun, however, she spontaneously held out her forearm, cocking it upwards at a slight angle. “You know what this is right?” she asked. Jun shook his head positively. It was a Sventa gesture used to affirm an oath between two people. Both participants would turn one forearm at the other person, then they would press their limbs together, forming an “X” and sealing the pact. It was a display reserved for the highest obligations a clan member could make: official statements in court, business contracts, state affairs, even marriages.
“I swear to you and everyone else that I will change the Central Plains into a place where we do not have to fight one another, into a place where we can all live in tranquility.”
For the first time since the Henron invasion, Jun smiled. He raised his forearm as well and pressed it against hers. In that instant, a bond was born, a connection that would indeed lead to the great changes Losha envisioned. Though neither of them could imagine the destiny they suddenly shared, the promise was set in motion.
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