Dodge: Serial 112

Losha casts her past into the fires, but even so, the memories live on...

Serial 112: An Ember’s Rise

August 18th, 38 S.D.     08:04        Sevia, Sventa

    “The soul never forgets. Etched upon our very beings are the memories that define us. Neither time nor distance will ever separate us from the things we must remember. We will always carry our past, for as long as we live, and perhaps beyond that.”

    Losha stood facing her school that morning. Gathered around her were the several dozen students she had enrolled over the years, Sventa of various ages. They encircled her near the entrance, looking at the building as well. A gap in their formation opened by the steps were there sat a photograph of Jun. Flanked by flowers, they’d made a memorial in his honor.

    “Even in death, nothing may perish completely. Even in death nothing is erased. One’s life leaves fragments of itself in others. Embedded in every one of us are the remnants of those we lose. Family, friends, all whom we cherish and love continue on through us. Though their blaze has been snuffed out by an unforgiving world, they leave us with embers that will never fade. It is our duty to hold onto these, to keep them close, and maybe one day rekindle their warmth.”

    “The tasks ahead of us are great, but we will stand firm and noble against whatever odds may come. Though we suffer the passing of one of our own, though we sorrow at this painful truth, we must reach for strength as these trials approach. We will not let circumstance defeat who we are or what we believe in. No matter what the course may bring, we shall not bend. We shall not waver. Not just for Jun’s sake, but for our own as well. He would want us to be strong, and to that end we will not fail him.”

    Losha stepped forward and knelt down in front of Jun’s picture. She reached around and pulled something from behind her back. It was a gun, a pistol. She held it in her palm as she looked down at the weapon.

    “Sa, I remember this. This was the gun you had with you when we met in Leitis. It was the only thing you had to defend yourself with. I can still see you on that day, a frightened child curled up in a little corner, fearful of anything that came near you. You even took a shot at me, though you missed. But I also remember that night we spent together, what we talked about, and the dinner I made you. I promised to watch out for you, and I did. I came back after the war and made you a student here. Yet, I suppose ultimately I did not look after you carefully enough.”

    She turned the gun over in her hand, gazing at the side of its grip. Her mouth opened but to sigh.

    “This belonged to your father, sa? I took it from you when our paths met. I always intended to give this back to you, one of these days. Figured you would not have much need for it when you became a serialist, but this is yours. And so, it seems at last I return it.” Losha set the pistol before the photo and then stood up.

    “We have come here not only to bid our friend farewell, we have also come here to part with this building. We are a school no more, not within Sventa. These halls have served us well, but now it is time to put them behind us. Today, we move forward, undeterred by those who would manipulate us. Today, we advance towards a future we ourselves will build, outside the influence of clans. This is no easy journey. Jun’s life is a testament to this very fact. However, this is something each of us feels compelled to do. We stand ready to leave these lands because there is no doubt in our hearts about what the right way is. Not a single one of you need follow me, rather you have come here on your own will. We will go from Sventa and start anew, guided by principles, not politics. I have little else to say now, just one final gesture to make.”

    Losha held up her hand and waved it over the school. Her fingers wrapped themselves in a bright, blue light. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but them something rose from the roof, a trail of blackened smoke. Soon, the air filled with the scent of fire as flames poked in and out of the school.

    At that time, some of Sevia’s citizens had already stopped to watch the serialist’s meeting, observing from a respectful distance. It was unusual for Losha and her lot to come outside en masse, so naturally people grew curious. They soon found out they were witnessing a funeral of some sort, in which case most nodded and continued with their day. However, when the school began to burn, the city fell into confusion. What was happening? Why was Losha’s school suddenly caught up in a cloud of dark vapors? Why was she doing nothing to stop it?

    As all of these questions swarmed up and down the streets, Denze, Mesel, Virel, and Faima all stepped towards Losha, coming up at her sides. They spoke of nothing. Instead, together they merely watched as crimson waves danced about. Leaping from the walls, racing through classrooms, and bursting from the windows, the fire ran around the place with abandon. In a matter of minutes, everything would be consumed and reduced to ash. Abruptly, Losha turned away from it all as she sensed a certain seras frequency nearing them. Her students parted to let her through. At that same moment, a running, panting Harle slowed down before her.

    “Losha!” he exclaimed, looking first at her, then the fire, then at his sister again. “What is this?” he said with as much breath as he could manage.

    “This is my answer to the Tabran,” she said. He threw sharp, incredulous eyes at her, but he merely shook his head a second later.

    “Oh no,” he mumbled. “Losha, you did not have to do this.”

    “And I do not have to bow to Lada’s demands. Nor yours. Nor anyone’s. This is my choice, our choice.”

    Just then, a fire captain and his crew came down the street as well, jogging briskly.

    “What is this?” he asked, echoing Harle. “Wolf! Hey now, I say, what happened here?”

    “You need not worry,” Losha said, raising her hand. “This is a controlled burn. It will not leave the property. I have erected a force-field to contain it. My apologies for the smoke, however, I will try to blow most of it away from Sevia.”

    The fire captain came to a halt but kept glancing bewilderedly from her to the school. “Burn? But that is your...”

    “We know, captain,” Losha said as she turned back. Harle, however, caught her arm.

    “You think this makes anything better?” he asked.

    “As a matter of fact, I do.”

    “What are you talking about? You know the Tabran will simply move to ban serialization entirely even if you deny them a school or an academy. What will you do then?”

    “What will I do? Harle, it will not matter. We will be long gone by then.”

    “Gone?” he asked, letting her slip from his grip.

    “Sa. Gone. We are going to leave Sventa. Master Eltin was right; a school should be brought up somewhere neutral.”

    Harle could but stand there as his mouth moved to form words, however, he made none. Eventually, he ran his hand down his face as he sighed. Losha moved away from him while the dumbfounded fire captain kept searching for answers.

    “Ver Harle, please, someone has to explain this to me.”

    Harle simply folded his arms as the fire billowed into a great plume. “Let it burn, captain, let it burn...”

    “I just do not understand,” the man said, scratching his head. “This just does not make sense. Like any at all. Eh... But if you say it is fine, and the Wolf herself says so too, I suppose there is nothing for us to do.”

    “We can watch it,” Harle said. “Losha will not let any of Sevia catch fire; the rest of the city will be just fine.”

    “Sa...”

    The crowd began to grow and bustle as the smoke towered into the sky. Endless murmurs floated across the block as ordinary folks were just as clueless as the fire captain. Their daily routines, in contrast to the school, were suddenly frozen by this bizarre event. They stopped, squinted, and pointed at the spectacle, left only to wonder what was happening. Eventually, another familiar seras frequency approached.

    “What the hell is wrong with everyone? What madness is this?” Lada cried as she forced her way through numerous bystanders. “Get back, all of you! Move it!” she snapped, clearing a path for herself. She marched straight towards Harle first of all.

    “What is the meaning of all this Harle? Why am I looking at a roaring bonfire?”

    Harle only slightly shifted his eyes towards the woman. He was far too angry with both himself and Lada to look at her directly. “This is her answer, Lada,” he said tersely. She seemed to ignore Harle’s mood and zeroed in on his sister instead. Pressing her way past people with her own importance, Lada soon came up behind Losha.

    “Is this really what you want? Is this how you intend to respond to the Tabran?” she said loudly, almost shouting.

    “Indeed, Lada, this is the message for all of you,” Losha said. She didn’t bother to turn back to the woman, rather, she merely looked over her shoulder. “But this is not just my answer. It is all of ours.”

    Lada swept her eyes around only to be met with the stony glares of Losha’s pupils. Every one of them was united with their master as a single, monolithic group. Lada scowled but continued on anyway.

    “Well, congratulations, Losha. If this is what you choose, serialization will be no more in Sventa. It is too much to let it go without regulation or oversight. The art you so value will be banned from this land.” Before the smirk could spread over Lada’s face, Losha coolly replied.

    “That is fine, Lada. It does not matter to us.”

    “What did you say?”

    Losha turned around and walked over to Lada, standing toe-to-toe with her. “What do we care about whatever the Tabran decides? We will not be here; your mandates will not affect us once outside the clan.”

    Suddenly, it dawned upon Lada just what exactly Losha and the rest were planning. With all the excitement about the fire, she’d neglected to note what else was going on. To the side were several large wagons filled with belongings. The horses sat ready to move. It was a small caravan in its own right. So... they were merely going to flee Sventa? In that moment, Lada’s features sunk as she realized she’d been outplayed. How could she have ever guessed Losha would resort to such measures, that such bold actions would break all of the Tabran’s calculations?

    “Damn you,” Lada whispered to herself.

    “This is goodbye, Lada,” Losha said as she stepped aside. Denze offered her something in his hand; it was her old Wolf of War pelt.

    “You said you wanted this?” he asked.

    “Sa,” Losha said, taking it for herself.

    “Brings back memories, sa? Remember when I bought this for you? Heh, had no idea it would become such an icon.”

    Losha laughed slightly as well. “Who knew?”

    “This is a mistake!” Lada called out. “This is perhaps the gravest error you have ever made, Wolf, casting away everything you have ever worked for.”

    “First of all, my dream is larger than a simple school, and not something so easily burned,” Losha responded. “And secondly, I am not the Wolf of Sventa, not anymore.” She tossed the pelt, flinging it into the flames. It landed just short of Jun’s photo as his image began to curl up against the brewing inferno. At once, the fire seemed to surge, growing with a breath of heat. The school was nothing more than a storm incendiary colors. Its very structure was engulfed, barely visible beneath the searing brightness. They could only hear it collapsing, piece-by-piece into a heap. Eventually, even the memorial disappeared in all of this destruction. Lada could simply stand there, stupefied. Losha returned to Harle.

    “I know you think my actions are rash, hot-headed, ill-tempered, and perhaps a bit arrogant,” she began. “You may be right, but do not forget that this is necessary. I wish I could make you understand that what the Tabran seeks will only lead to danger.”

    “Forget about that for a second and consider what this means for our family. We are losing you all over again. You spent your whole childhood away from us, only to come back for five short years. Now, like the wind, you are just leaving us out of nowhere. This is going to be awfully hard for mother and father to swallow.”

    “We are not leaving for another hour. There is still time to fetch them and say farewell.”

    “I intend to get them straightaway, but that is beside the point,” he frowned. “You are just up and leaving without any sort of warning. This comes as a painful shock, you know. You are here one day, then gone the next. It is barely any different than dying in some ways.”

    “I am a grown woman, brother. I know all too well the consequences of my actions. All of us do. Each of my students has had to bear the same news to their loved ones. This is how convicted we are, however. This is the only way to keep serialization on its correct path. Believe what you may, but the Sventa government cannot be trusted as a steward of the art.”

    Harle merely hung his head. “Shrieks... Had I known it would have come to this... Back then I should have...”

    Losha smiled at him as she dug something out of her pocket. “I will not be around when Teiva is due, so I suppose I will have to give this to you now.”

    She pulled out a pendant with a glass crystal embedded in it. The centerpiece dazzled at any angle thanks to the various cuts to its form. It sparkled as greatly as any diamond Harle had ever seen.

    “I am a serialist, not a jeweler, but I think I did pretty well making it. I still do not know if yours is a son or a daughter, but tell them this is from their aunt.”

    “It is beautiful... I dare say it should last longer than any stuffed animals I am sure everyone else will give us. Thank you, Losha.” Harle hugged her closely. “I am sorry. This is partly my fault.”

    “You were only doing as you saw fit. Do not blame yourself. ” Losha then spoke lowly. “And do not trust Lada. Be wary of her motives. She is not alone in the Tabran. Others want serialization only for war. Watch out for their lies, brother, and watch out for your life.”

    As they moved apart, Harle looked shakenly at Losha, then glanced at Lada further off. Were there any evidence to what she had said? Was she right in her reasons for refusing the Tabran? He found himself holding the pendant and could but shake his head once again. Eventually, he turned to the edge of Sevia and headed home. The others would like to see her off, even if it was difficult and confusing to bear.

    Lada was not yet through, however. She ran off and badgered a group of soldiers keeping watch over the crowds across the street.

    “You, you there,” she said, pointing to a Range Lead.

    “Ah, Ver Lada, what can I help you with on this rather unusual morning?”

    “Arrest that woman at once,” she demanded. The officer looked and saw Losha.

    “I am afraid I cannot do that, Ver Lada.”

    “Is my authority so easily questioned? Can I not have her detained by the powers our clan has vested me with? Or do you perhaps need a reason?”

    “I should say so, Ver Lada, if we are talking about the Wolf of Sventa herself.”

    “Ksh!” Lada spat. “How about treason then?”

    “T-treason?” the Range Lead asked, taken aback by the accusation. “This cannot be serious...”

    “She has repeatedly defied the Tabran and its rule. If you want evidence, you can see it at her trial.”

    “I am terribly sorry, Ver Lada, but I simply cannot do something like that, not the least because the Wolf would not let me.”

    “Feckless man!” Lada growled as she turned away and walked off. She mumbled angrily to herself as she left the scene. “Damn that b***h! If she were not so hard-headed, a little more pliable like her brother, or better yet her uncle... Now we have nothing. Serialization has slipped through these old fingers of mine thanks to her... Shrieks! I will not stand for this. Our plans may be wasted, but I shall tarnish her name forever. Sa! Even if she leaves... I can formally exile her, stain her fame with propaganda, and convict her of treason even in her absence... It will not solve much, but damn her!”

    Though Lada’s current schemes were dashed, as fate would have it, they would be revived many years later...



    Rising from the depths of a dream, pulling herself from the reaches of the past, Losha awoke in Talastol nearly a decade later. The rain of the night had passed, and now morning light spread across the plains. It broke through her windows, filtered into thin rays by her blinds. Her room was dark save for these little strips that fell over her pillow and warmed her face. With a grunt, she flipped herself upright on the edge of her bed. As the faint twitter of birds played outside, her mind found itself fully alert. She couldn’t decide if she’d gotten enough rest or not, however, her body told her she was ready to go. And yet go where and do what?

    She sighed as she bent over, looking at the floorboards between her feet. Automatically, as if part of her daily ritual, she summoned a cigarette with a kinetic series, lighting it in midair before it ever touched her lips. As soon as she grabbed it, she took a long drag. Thanks to regenesis, the effects of nicotine were short-lived. Her brain couldn’t really get addicted; her seras always restored her health. She didn’t much care for the taste of tobacco or its horrid smell, but the burning, the choking smoke made her feel better for some reason.

    Her glance came up, looking at herself in the mirror just ahead. There was her portrait, the young woman with the long, bushy wolftail flowing behind her back and a cigarette pinched in hand. The dim glow of the stick highlighted her face in red. Losha stared at herself for a long while. The dying end of her cigarette crumbled into ash. Before it hit the floor, however, her other hand snatched it. Cupping it in her palm, she brought it closer to inspect. It singed her skin, but the pain didn’t bother her. At last, the ember faded. Again, she saw herself in the mirror.

    The soul never forgets... Even 10 years later, the memories were still fresh. She would always remember those events, the betrayal, the anger and anguish... Most of all, however, she would always remember who she was and what her true purpose was. Serialization must be used peacefully, and no matter what, it was her duty to see that it did no harm. Slowly, her fist tightened up, smashing and suffocating the cigarette in her grip. Her nerves flared, but she smothered the stick and dropped it to the floor. In an instant, she stood up. It was time to fight again.

Author's Note

15 years ago, Losha Holvate Sventa fought to bring peace between Sventa and Henron. Though calm has been established between these two major clans, the larger situation has not been resolved. Time has passed, but the Central Plains are still a violent place, seething with anger and hatred. All it takes is a simple scratch, and everything will come rushing to the top. From the shadows, one underground group aims to do just that using the strength of serialization. Now an abandoned hero, Losha must once more rise to save these lands from the destructive power of the art. Yet as the actions of her past confront the Wolf, can she find the will to stand against the one behind it all, her very own son?

The next installment comes March 2, 2016. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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* This concludes the events that happened between the end of the Sventa-Henron war and the present, 15 years later. However, the past never fades. You can be sure the past few serials will have an impact on the rest of this arc.

* Losha was summarily exiled thanks to Lada's efforts, but by then, she'd already cast aside her identity as both a member of the Sventa clan and as their hero, the Wolf. The burning of the Wolf of War pelt is in some ways more significant than burning down her school. Although, thanks to Losha's actions, Lada's shadowy plans went up in smoke, quite literally in fact.

* It should be none of Losha's students at this time was a child at that time. Her first students within Sventa were mostly teenagers and adults, similar to how Master Eltin began Palostrol. As such, all of them are capable of deciding for themselves whether to follow Losha out of Sventa. Later, however, again following the late Master Eltin, she begins accepting younger students. The twist is that these children are often war orphans, a frequent product of the violent nature of the Central Plains. In some sense, her new school in Talostol is a bit of a charity operation, with the goal of spreading serialization.

* As a personal note, I like the symbolism involved with fire and memory. In some ways, Losha finds smoking so calming because the burning sensation reminds her of the day she left Sventa and the last time she had a chance to say goodbye to Jun. Perhaps this symbolism will evolve as this arc progresses? Well, things are really about to take off now that Losha is back in action.

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Any feedback is welcome. Just writing because I like it. Always wanted to make a weekly series, so I'm doing it.