Digitas Chapter 7

“Leaving?” Claire peeked through, her long straight waist long maroon hair blocking off some of the light from the corridor.

 

It was a small room, cramped yet cozy. The oaken door creaked slightly as she peered through into the barely lit room.

 

No reply came through; just a mere grunt of acknowledgement.

 

“You do know that’s not going to sit well with Xami right?” She continued as she shoved open the door wider, now leaning on one of her arms, nestled on the side of the archway.

 

“We both know that’s not going to work out. We have far too little forces here. Plus, you know as well as I do that something just isn’t right. Elle isn’t someone who would order an attack on us like that.” The man replied grimly. “New Era didn’t grow as large as it did razing cities and pillaging villages.”

 

“Still a little stuck with your girlfriend? I care little for these politics. Facts are that they are marching here as we speak. Man, I don’t know why I do this.” Claire sighed after a brief pause as she invited herself in, shutting the door behind her.

 

“You don’t have to. You have done more than you need here, mercenary.” The man replied, stressing with a falsified contempt as he mentioned ‘mercenary’.

 

“Wow. And here I thought I have proven myself more than just that, Commander or should I say, Damian.” Claire said with a cheeky wink mimicking the man’s tone as she mentioned his name.

 

“Don’t. Use. That. Name.” Commander warned, as he stood up, slinging the now bundled pack across his shoulder.

 

“Well, I would do that if you would stop calling me a merc. And why can’t I call you by your name. It is your name isn’t it?” Claire replied still holding on to her cheeky tone.

 

“You know why. It is a window for weakness, revealing one’s true identity out there. I can’t do that. Plus, you were a literal merc.” Commander replied in a grim tone. “Would you do me a favor and maybe step aside over there? You are not planning to stop me are you?”

 

“Not at all.” Claire replied as she stepped aside shifting her weight to lean on the other end of the wall. “You know, you do have a lot of enemies out there. You do have a penchant for that kind of thing.”

 

“I guess I do, don’t I.”

 

“Where would you go?” Claire asked as Commander walked past the door, ducking a little past the low arch. “You do realize you are about to make much more leaving like this?”

 

“Capital. We are going have to sort some things out. Our survival depends on it and perhaps more.” Commander mentioned in his same serious tone as he took a glance at Claire, smiled a little before taking off as the dull thuds of his leather boots faded away across the tavern’s carpeted wooden flooring.

 

Claire sat herself down in the room. She took her prized dagger out, twirling it around, and then clasping it firmly. The sharpened edges reflected the outline of her deceptively smooth features. Clementine “Claire” Remington, mercenary extraordinaire. She sat there contemplating and recounting her past.

 

How long have she known him? One, nay, nearly two years. He was ever the cheerful bloke; always smiling, though those smiles have become such a rarity these days. Pain can be ever corrupting; she, above all would know. Ironically, it was he who saved her from her cycle of blood vengeance. Could he be succumbing to her old fate at present?

 

Claire blinked as she resumed rotating her dagger at its tip, the dim light reflecting softly into her eyes every second or so.

This dagger itself has been planted in so many backs, necks and eyes that she lost count a long time ago. It started out as vengeance, then for survival, then for money and finally, nearly, ever closely, for sport. It was terrifying how easy it was to transition between these intentions.

 

Here, she could escape the harsh reality, yet perhaps after all these years, she has come to realized that the escape was but a dream; for she found no solace here. The Starlet Pianist of her time; that was what her parents would sell her out for; Magic Fingers, a divine gift of God Almighty given specially to her, to remind her of her higher purpose in life.

 

Prodigy. Genius. A diamond atop a thin pedestal that needs to be supported by its holsters lest it tips over to the abyssal sides. It was too much pressure. Crowds cheered and praises piled on upon praises, yet she enjoyed none of it. And then here, in the Other World, in Digitas, she could be anyone she wanted. She could be herself, whatever it was.

 

But such a paradise does not exist. Quickly, Claire came to realize that the natural order of humanity could not be escaped so easily. Even in the digital world, it was connected and filled by humans. And such as humans are in the world, so they were in the digital one. The only difference was a mask. But as she could be anyone she wanted, so did everyone else.

 

Petyr, her first friend here in Digitas who doubled as the first victim to her blade. Claire joined post-currency; the era where Digitas erupted into a pit of gold, with miners connected to it for the single purpose of making it rich. Some worked hard and harder still yet some would turn to sweet words and cunning lies with elaborate schemes. Petyr was very much the latter.

 

Vengeance would be hers. It was really too bad that people don’t really die here in Digitas. But now, now there was hope. Here laid in front of her were allegations that death carried over to their real selves out there. She would finish off what she started; sink her blades deep within his skull once again. She would be doing the world a favor. She would have rid the world of a- No, no. No.

 

She was beyond that. Or at least she should be. It was just a game. It wasn’t real yet, yet her sense of justice screams for retribution. Not just for her, but for the people she cared for around her.

 

Claire took a deep long breathe as the reflecting light of the dagger continued to glaze her vision every other second. She remembered the time that she allowed her wanderlust and joy in this world turn to hate at the hands of betrayal. Painful hate that burns; a burn that endangered herself more than anything else, pain that she has set behind her, thanks to the man that just left this very building.

 

Claire stood up; her head clear with determination and purpose. Her daggers did a final arc around its center as she slid it back to its holsters as she broke to a sprint through the oaken door.

 

“No, I will not let him be consumed by this fire. He has saved me, and now it is my turn.”

Reviews

[David Jae]

I like how you set up the relationship between Merc and Commander. It makes the story come alive. Good job.

[Rainbows Butterflies And Happy Endings]

Thank you for the feedback, David. =)

[David Jae]

You're welcome.