by Jared Ravens
Fairfax was winning by targeting Atrios weak spot: organization.
That would change. Though the bureaucracy would keep Atrios running back and forth for some time, he was making up for his previous deficiencies. He would trained his troops more vigorously, and he gathered recruits to come up through the ranks as he took newly trained ones out to the desert. He grew the army to a significant size but it could not stand on its own. Once he was called away by Genesee on an errand and the army was found and routed by the tribe of Eae. Step by step he grew it back, the losses mounting with each battle but coming closer to evening the odds each time.
At first Fairfax and Eryck would only attack the soldiers and avoid Atrios until the last enemy had been driven away, keeping entirely clear of him if they could. But as the army began to hold their own this strategy had to be changed. Eae kept their strength by absorbing whole villages. It was not hard to do this since Atrios would destroy entire towns, forcing its former citizens to be conscripted into the wandering army of Eae. The battles became larger, the stalemates bloodier, and the price each side paid to face off became embarrassing and frustrating to all. The glue that held either side together was voracious anger at the other.
One day they fought Atrios to a narrow win, causing the titan to hobble angrily back across the desert. Had they not cut his ankles to shreds he surely would have followed them and destroyed every one of them.
It was clear to Eryck that this wasn't sustainable and eventually they would face a disastrous loss. Deep in his own mind Fairfax knew as well but his compulsion to fight kept him from retreating for too long. This time, though, Fairfax was hurt. He stumbled along the trails trying to hide his wounds. But it was obvious that the time for rest had come. Fairfax heeded Eryck's advice and they marched with about eight hundred into the foothill to the eastern edge of the desert to hide. They reached the village of Rahm deep in the crevices of the hills before Fairfax finally collapsed on the side of the road and closed his eyes.
"We're going to stay here a while," Eryck said when Fairfax woke up.
"A short time," Fairfax said, groggily.
"I told the people that we will hide here. It will be hard for them to find."
They were in a canyon between two mountains with only one road running through it. Homes were piled on top of each other along the steep incline making towers of ten and twenty stories that resembled very tall shacks, each level a different style and color. Since several villages around it had been burned Rahm had become the regrouping point of many of the people. What had once been a hidden village was now bustling with people.
“Just wait a little while," Fairfax said. "The longer we wait the stronger he gets."
"We can't keep going like this," Eryck said, sitting down beside Fairfax. Fairfax still had crusted blood on his face and his eyes could barely stay open.
"If you want a free state of Eae, we can't stop."
"You want this ‘free state’," Eryck said angrily, “We’ll have to find a way to quit fighting.”
Eryck’s mood mood about war had changed. With the creatures, he always knew they could fight them back somehow. He knew the creatures had no strategy and often no minds to speak of. He had never fought an army before. This new enemy was strategic, and it could evolve. It would not quit. He had become quieter, his rambling stories dwindled. The more he thought of his past the more depressed he became.
"Do you think they're just going to quit fighting?" Fairfax asked.
"No! Do you think they are just going to quit fighting?"
"I hope not," Fairfax muttered, leaning on his elbow. "You're the one that says 'Free State' in all your speeches."
Eryck looked at the road beside them, bustling with roaming men and women, many wounded.
“I know what sells," he muttered. “People like those words, but we want a home, Fairfax. Not this place."
“Doesn’t seem like such a bad place," Fairfax replied. He lifted himself up to his feet slowly, a nervous grin on his face. He walked lazily down the crowded road towards the entrance to the village.
"Where are you going?" Eryck asked.
"Going where I'm wanted."
He limped out of the town and down the trail until the buzz of the village was far behind him. He could feel the thoughts of others overtake his mind again, like waves traveling through the air. They were still looking for him, still calling to him. Still looking to control him.
It would be easy to give in to that.
It was nighttime when he reached the desert. It called to him. It was the most dangerous place for him to be, yet it was so vast that it was unlikely he would ever be found. He became tired and laid down on the ground. The discomfort of the rocky bed didn't bother him. He closed his eyes. His mind buzzed. It hummed with voices trading ideas back and forth until a single tone emerged. He dozed off, listening to its rhythms, unable to decode its meaning. He was on the verge of sleep when his body jumped.
The shadow was there again. It was closer, lit up in the glow of the night sky. It stood entirely still. The sounds in his head had coalesced into a single voice.
"What do you want?" he asked it.
"To see you," it said. The voice was female but the body was so dark that its shape appeared blurred
"I'm here," he said, leaning over on one elbow. He didn't feel the need to protect himself. He stood up, slowly, his body stiff from pain. "You've been watching me."
"I didn't think you would make it."
"You didn't offer to help."
"Helping you is dangerous."
"I've heard that before."
“Its the truth.”
She walked towards him, close enough that he could glimpse the feminine angles of her body. She wore a dark cloak that was curved tight at her waist and a hood that covered her face. She walked past him, dusting soft, leafy sent as she moved. He followed her, limping behind at a steady pace. They walked quietly for some time, slowly navigating along the eastern hills. He became lost among the trails in the darkness. A bright knob of light emanated from somewhere at the base of a rocky hill. She turned straight towards. it. It grew into a glowing hole as they closed in. She ducked down and squeezed through it.
He squinted at the warm light that came from dozens of lanterns. When his eyes adjusted he saw a cavern of modest size with worn books along the shelves and ancient wood furniture strewn about. Plants were everywhere, climbing up the dirt walls and hanging from the low ceiling. She took off her cloak to reveal and a small body wrapped in a green and yellow tunic. It was plain looking but her face was not: It was slim and delicate looking. There was a light glow from just under her skin that reflected on her curly red hair. Her eyes were blocked by cloth the covered her eyes.
Despite her blocked vision she seemed to have no difficulty navigating. She guided him to a small bed and had him lay down. Her hands reached out to his leg, causing him to jump.
"If you want me to look at it you'll have to let me touch it."
He laid back down, letting her reach higher up on his thigh. She moved her hands over the point where he had been stabbed. He was a quick healer but this had been a deep cut.
"Very hard fighter," she said, standing up. She went to a table cluttered with jars and began mixing something in a bowl.
"Which one are you?" he asked.
“You don’t know me at all?” She said, stopping and glancing back at him.
“I can’t really see you,” he offered as an excuse.
She paused for a moment before removing the cloth from her face. Dark green eyes pulsed before him.
“Vivian,” he said, the word suddenly floating through his head.
"They really did do a number on you," she said, turning back to the table to grind ingredients. “Do you know that or did was that just a guess?”
“It was a little of both I think,” he said, unsure where the answer had come from.
“Do you remember anything about me?”
“You like working in
nature,” he replied after a moment. “And your sister is very powerful. And you are very dangerous.”
She smiled at him. “That’s flattering. But true.”
She sat next to him with a bowl filled with a thick yellow paste. She used the flat side of a dull knife to rub it onto the inside his leg. There was a burning that felt like insects running up the inside of his leg, followed by a coolness, and he sighed in relief.
“Maybe that means we can start over,” she confessed meekly. It was a speaking tone that he had never heard from someone from The Hill.
“I’m sorry I can’t remember more. My head isn’t all there but I can truthfully say you are familiar.”
“The last time I saw you I was in a hallway on The Hill. I avoided the rubble that fell down from the ceiling and watched you through the window as you ran away. I wanted you to escape, to get away from there.”
“That’s unusual. Most of your family want me dead.”
“I’m not like them.”
He lifted himself up on his elbow as she put the bowl away.
"Why did you watch me when I was crossing the desert?'
"I wanted to see if you would make it.”
“But you didn’t help me."
“Its dangerous for me to help you."
“How so?”
She sat down on the bed and looked at him. Her green eyes floated in front of him, her face a mix of uncomfortable emotions. She placed her hand in his, her soft fingers gliding across the rough skin of his palm.
“They know that I will be looking for you,” she replied softly.
“I see.”
“I wasn’t respectful of you before. I thought I was better than my family but I did the same things they did. When they called me out on it I fought back because I didn’t think it was true. But I’m just the same as them, through and through.”
Fairfax felt himself hypnotized by her eyes. They didn't blink, and the assuredness nestled within them comforted him.
“What can you tell me about myself?”
“Your father was an animal, your mother was a human,” she said quietly. “I was the reason for that. The first time you wanted to know that I couldn’t answer because I was too ashamed at what I had done.”
He looked at her, his face unchanged. He laid down, feeling the relief from his thigh.
“Seems about right.”
“I know it’s not right,” she said, her hand kneading his large shoulder. “I feel terrible for putting you through this.”
“But it got me here,” he replied.
“Yes, it did.”
"I remember a table, laying down on it. Waking up. I know I was someone before but I don't know who."
"They wanted to make you a different person. They wiped everything."
"Eryck told me to write something, to tell people my story. But every time I do it comes out jumbled. I can't form words. Something gets scrambled on the way out. I can't even say what I want."
"That suites them,” she said, her hands moving down to his chest. “It's better for them if you can't talk."
He looked up at her.
“They really think that,” he said in a hushed voice. “They don’t want me to be able able to speak for myself.”
"Most likely, but I don't know.”
"Who was I?"
“It’s not important," she said, her hands running over his face. He closed his eyes. It was as if a cloud was running through his face. It was unlike anything he had felt before.”
“I need to know."
"No, you need to focus on who you are becoming. The person you were doesn't matter."
"I feel like I could be anyone," he said, so low even he could barely hear it.
"That was the point.." she whispered.
He felt himself becoming something else as her lips touched his. He went from warrior to lover, and his body went soft. She moved on top of him and her small breast floated over his mouth. He was inside of her. Her light hands flowed over his body, enveloping it in a mist. It was a kind of magic that he didn’t think he could have felt in his former life. She was vocal and electric as he brought himself into her. She moved with him, and their minds intertwined. It was an intense sort of release that blanked out his mind. He rolled over her several time in the night, one moment blending into the next like a breath moving into a sigh. He lost who he was in her, as was her intent, and he was glad for it.
He was whole again for a moment. He smiled at her imposing face and rolled under her hair. Through the tangle of red, on the other side of the bed, he saw a thick book overflowing with loose pages. It shimmered as if some energy was pushing it to open it.
"Light reading," he asked.
"No," She replied.
"What's the story? A book about gardening?"
"No," she replied. "That's Celia's journal."
He lifted his head again. He saw the face of Celia in his head, anger and sternest and power flowing from it.
"Oh, my," he said. "Why?"
"She had finished that volume, and she set it aside. It was stolen and given to me."
"Why?"
"Because I was the best at transcribing it. Maybe the only one. She writes in a way that requires intense concentration to decipher so that no one else can read it."
"She doesn't want you to know her thoughts?"
“Of course not. Its incendiary and unfiltered. But then you came and she changed her mind.”
“She gave it to you?”
“In a way, yes. If it’s out of her hands then Genesee can’t stop her from publishing it. She said I owed her, so Martel took it and brought it to me when it was finished.”
“What do you do with it?”
“I concentrate on the words as I translate them and get humans to transpose them like they are their own words. I tried to get it published many times until I finally found someone to do it.”
"Is any of it true, though? Isn't it just her thoughts."
"I don't know," she replied, burying her head into his neck. "But between that and the official history there has to be some truth. That’s why I help her. People need to know the truth. When you escaped it changed everything. She felt she was getting blamed and she lost it. I don’t blame her.”
“It would a lot easier if they just left me alone.”
“That’s not possible. Not with them. When you have as much power as you do, you can tilt the balance. That’s why Genesee and Goetz want you. That’s why Celia and Atrios would prefer you dead.”
He sighed.
“I don’t feel that powerful.”
“Have you seen what you can do? You can beat the best of them. You beat Batumet, twice. You beat Atrios how many times? There’s no one, save maybe Celia, that could fight you and win.”
“But what use is that power if I can’t control my own life? If they are coming after me then I’m fated to lose.”
“Don’t think that way,” she scolded him. “When I told you to focus on who you want to become. It doesn’t belong to them. I helped make you. You’re different from anyone else. You can make them listen.”
“Listen to what?”
“Listen to people for once. They need a voice, don’t they? I spent so much time among you humans and I thought I knew you, but I never really did. I never thought about what I was doing until I saw you running away. And I thought, if I did love him, I would let him get away and never go after him. I would let him be.”
“‘Love him’,” he repeated.
“I do.”
“But you still came after me.”
“Because my desire was so strong. But you did make me listen. There is a way that you can live with them, to be at peace with Celia and Genesee. I know it.”
Something popped into his head.
"You said it was dangerous for me to be here."
"And a little for me."
"Why is it dangerous for me?" he asked, turning his head towards her.
"Because," she said. "My mother mig
ht be able to see you through my eyes."
He drew back, almost falling out of the bed.
"Maybe," she said. "Like out of a dream. Like you dream with Orlando."
"But she would know where I was. She would know where I am."
"She would if we stayed together too long."
He rose out of bed, looking around for an escape.
"Why did you bring me here? Why did you chance it?'
She rose, naked, on her knees on the bed.
"Because it was worth it."
He looked at the firmness and confidence of her beauty, a statement of the work art that she knew she possessed. It was worth it, for both of them, and they both knew it was over before the sound.
“I’m sorry, love,” she said.
The noise was a thud followed by sand rushing over his body. It was a muffled boom followed quickly by a collapsing roof and the feeling of suffocation. He inhaled dirt and felt the pressure of a ton of rock on soil on top of him. Just as he couldn't hold his breath any more he was grabbed and pulled upwards through the ground. His lungs filled with cold air and he choked out a lung full of dirt. He opened his eyes. The pressure around his chest tightened. The shadows of the night revealed the face of his captor.
Atrios.
He tried to breathe out a word but Atrios didn’t wait for it. He pulled out his dagger out and pushed it towards the doll in his hand, attempting to lop off his head like the bad end of a fruit. Fairfax couldn't see the knife coming but he could feel it, and with a strength that could only can be gained with moments of life to spare, he pushed Atrios’ fingers back enough for his head to be spared.
Atrios moved his fingers enough that the knife would have space to slide in between the digits. The huge knife caught Fairfax's side and he screamed. He saw the futility in fighting Atrios’ strength and reached for the knife blade. Putting his hands on each side of it he pulled it back, cutting his side deeper as it pulled toward him but also cutting into the palm of Atrios’ hand. Atrios’ scream matched Fairfax's and he dropped him.