“We have to do something!” I hissed to Alex.
“What can we do? There’s no chance they won’t see us.”
The boy somehow recovered and swung out with his own Bo Staff. It hit the Imp in the stomach and he huffed, clearly winded. But rather than put him off, it only made him more furious and he attacked with the anger of the possessed. In a matter of seconds, the Elf was knocked unconscious, sliding face down through a puddle of dirty water, his helmet rolling to a stop several feet away.
“Pathetic display,” said the Lead warden. He gestured behind him. “Take this cretin to the recovery cell and deliver three lashes when he is awake.” He nodded at the victor, who had a hand placed against his stomach and was clearly trying not to show his discomfort. “Well done, one-six-four-eight. But be sure to keep your stomach protected at all times. If that had been a sword, your guts would be all over the ground by now.”
“Yes, Warmaster. Thank you, Warmaster,” breathed the boy.
“You have earned an extra portion of food this evening. Return to the ranks.”
“Thank you, Warmaster.” The boy gave an awkward bow and then returned to his position within the rows of young children. The warden pressed the unit again and two more wristbands flared up.
“One-eight-nine-three and two-three-four-two, you’re up.”
I couldn’t get my head around exactly why this was happening. The answer was right there in front of me, but some of the pieces were missing. All I knew was that what I was witnessing was beyond wrong. I wanted to jump down and break every one of the guard’s necks.
Gabriella looked at me, about to say something, but a yell from behind us stopped her in her tracks. We frowned at each other and then crept back along the building, peering over the edge into one of the small walkways between the huts.
Three Lightwardens were standing over a young Elf. He had been carrying some kind of foul-looking food in a plastic pot, which was now spread across the pavement, its grey liquid pooling with the streams of rain.
The boy was cowering on the ground, one hand covering his face, the other stretched out in a gesture of mercy. One of the Lightwardens had his own hand coiled into a fist, and it was clear he’d just used it.
“You are over four minutes late to roll call, and your excuse is that you were hungry?!” The warden was furious, spittle flying from his mouth.
“I-I’m sorry, Warwarden,” said the terrified Elf. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I t-thought I had enough time to get food, but then the rain came and I couldn’t see properly. I took a wrong turn from the Foodhouse and got lost.” The poor Elf was so scared he could barely get his words out.
“Unacceptable!” shouted the other Warwarden, and stamped on the child’s leg. A loud crack echoed off the walls and the boy screamed in agony. Immediately afterwards, the first warden kicked the small Elf with such force, it sent him flying into a wall. The child slumped to the ground and his head drooped into his chest. Fury rushed through me, and I couldn’t have stopped myself if I’d wanted to.
Gabriella was way ahead of me.
She pounced off the building, landing on the back of one of the Wardens. Lunging forward, she used her momentum to flip him over. He hit the ground hard, and she stamped a foot down into his chest with a scream. A gasp escaped his lungs that dissolved into a gurgle as he lost consciousness.
My mind calmed and became crystal clear as I jumped down, sending rain splashing up around me. The second Warwarden was rushing towards Gabriella. I seized him by the back of the neck and spun him around, smashing my forehead into his nose. I felt the warmth of his blood as it sprayed across my face and tasted metal as it seeped over my lips. I let him go and he staggered backwards, clutching his wounded face.
A rough hand gripped my shoulder. Without turning, I seized the arm and twisted, snapping the bone. Only then did I spin around, and came face to face with the third Warwarden, his face twisted into a grimace of pain. He reached for his gunpike, but I knocked it right out of his hand and grabbed his throat, hoisting him off the ground and squeezing his windpipe. Spittle flecked across my fingers as he gasped for breath.
“Don’t kill him!” shouted Gabriella. Her words were distant but still penetrated.
I was in full control.
With a grunt, I threw the warden up into the air and grabbed his legs. Pivoting on the spot, I slammed the Warwarden’s entire body into the shack. A splatter of blood streaked across the metal and left a large dent from the impact. I could hear the confused sounds of the prisoners inside.
Gabriella had turned her attention to the only upright Luminar, still keening over his broken face. She sent out a torrent of punches to the side of his head until she was the only thing keeping him on two feet. She let go of his throat and he started to fall to the ground, but not before she jumped up and delivered a final spinning kick to his chest. He ricocheted off the wall and landed next to his broken friend. Not a single sound came from either of them. “You won’t be hitting any more children for a while now, you bastards,” she spat.
It’s over.
Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let my reserve energy seep away, leaving the normal me in its wake. When I opened my eyes again, it was to three unconscious and badly wounded Warwardens. Gabriella was checking the vitals of the one I’d just body slammed. She looked up and gave a relieved nod. “He’ll live.”
“I know.”
“Alex…the child.”
I glanced up to see that the little Luminar was coming back to his senses. He looked around groggily as if waking from a heavy dream – his eyes widening when he saw the unconscious Lightwardens and us, standing over him.
“Y-you shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered in a quavering voice. “They’ll be mad when they wake up.”
I stared down at the mass of broken limbs and blood. “I think it’s going to be some time before that happens.”
Gabriella crouched down next to the small Elf, who was shivering either from fear or the cold rain that hammered down around us – maybe both. She gently brushed his damp blonde hair away from his face and then placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He flinched but didn’t pull away.
“Don’t worry, we don’t want to hurt you,” she soothed. “What’s your name?”
The Elf looked up at us, his velvet green eyes meeting with mine. He was young, probably only in his early thirties, which would have made him about eight by human standards.
“Three-nine-two-eight,” he stuttered.
Gabriella glanced at me for a second. “No, I mean your actual name.”
The boy frowned as if he didn’t understand the question.
“Before you came here, what did people call you?” I said. The boy was silent for a moment, as if trying to retrieve a dusty memory from the back of his mind. “J-Jamiah,” he said uncertainly.
“Its good to meet you, Jamiah,” I said.
Gabriella pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m Gabriella, and this is Alex,” she added, gesturing the same hand towards me. She motioned for me to crouch down next to her; when I did, Jamiah flinched away from me.
He’s scared of men.
“Don’t worry, hun, Alex is a kind person. He wouldn’t dream of hurting you, would you, Alex?”
“Not in a million years.” I gave the biggest, dopiest smile I could and the Elf gave a weak one back.
“Where are your mother and father, Jamiah?”
“Father? Three-nine-two-six,” he said, as if suddenly understanding. “He’s dead.”
“How?”
“He got sick,” he replied with barely a flicker of emotion.
“And your mother?” I asked.
“Three-nine-two-seven is still alive…I think.” He gave a shrug. “She works in the Atrius kitchens. I don’t ever see her.”
I glanced at Gabriella and saw that her expression was as stunned as mine. He doesn’t relate to his parents as people any more. What have these bastards done to him?
> “Jamiah, what is the Partition?” I asked.
The boy’s face broke into an unexpected sneer. “Why should I tell you anything? You hurt the Warwardens. They are our protectors.”
I was taken aback by his defense of the three brutes who had minutes before been beating him mercilessly.
“Jamiah, those men were hurting you. They might not have stopped if we hadn’t intervened. They are not your protectors, they’re your captors,” said Gabriella.
“They are! They train us to be strong so we can defend this world from the Umbra.”
“Hold on. You mean they’re training you to be soldiers?” I asked.
Jamiah nodded. “Me and others like me. Every day we train, from the twin sun’s rise until the Great Clock chimes.”
“Do you like training?” said Gabriella.
“Yes. We must fight for the protection of Pandemonia.” His response was automatic, like something spouted from a propaganda broadcast.
“Answer me truthfully. Do you really like training, Jamiah? Don’t you sometimes wish you didn’t have to?”
The Elf’s gaze fell to the ground. “Sometimes,” he whispered almost imperceptibly, as if he were admitting a terrible secret. “Sometimes I wish I could visit outside the Partition. The pretty place we saw when we first came here.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
He wrinkled his nose, making him look like the innocent child he was, which made my heart ache with sadness for him. “I don’t know. I think seven cycles.”
That’s about ten years I think.
“Can you remember what happened when you first came here?”
The boy was silent once more, grabbing at his old memories. He words were unconfident as he began, almost like he couldn’t quite trust them anymore. “W-we were running…from our village, which had been destroyed by the Umbra scum. We came to the pretty city and were taken to see the head warden. He asked if we had any money…we didn’t. So Lightwardens came and bought us here. I was taken from seven-nine-two-six and seven-nine-two-seven and put in the Bright Barracks. It’s the same for anyone who doesn’t have any money. If you are young and healthy, you are taken to train so you can help win the war. Those who are too old or too weak have to live here and do jobs that help the city. I didn’t see anyone I knew for a long time.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
Gabriella was blinking back tears that were forming in her eyes. “Jamiah, don’t you miss your parents?”
He looked at her as if it were a stupid question. “Of course not. Families are weak and pointless to the cause. Only the strong can save Pandemonia. They couldn’t serve, so their lives were worthless.”
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.
“So is that what the Partition is, a place where people who escaped to Fenodara and who have no money are forced to live?”
Jamiah nodded. “Yes. And people who are fit are taught to fight for the world against the Umbra savages.”
“Are you allowed to leave the Partition if you want to?”
Jamiah gave an unnerving laugh, reverting back to propaganda mode. “Why would we want to leave? The Warwardens give us shelter and food. They teach us to be strong and to defend against our enemies. The Partition is the greatest place in Pandemonia.”
Gabriella reached for my hand, as if it what she was hearing was too much to bear. My head was spinning like a top. This child…this innocent child has been brainwashed into thinking this squalid, festering shantytown where he was stolen from his parents and forced to train for inevitable death is some kind of salvation.
I felt sick to my stomach.
“Can I go now? The Warwardens are already going to punish me for being late. I don’t want to make it any worse.” He stared down at the broken guards and seemed to struggle with his next words. “But…thank you.” He stood up and started to hobble off.
“No, wait!” called Gabriella frantically.
She motioned to go after him, but I grabbed her arm, tugging her back with all of my strength.
“What are you doing?” she almost screeched as I held her fast, while Jamiah limped down the streets, dragging his bad leg behind him and disappearing from view. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she watched him go. I whirled her around and saw that she was using all of her resolve not to slap me across the face. Instead she glared at me, her chest heaving up and down from her anger. “Why the hell did you stop me?”
I stepped forward. “Listen to me. I am as disgusted as you are. Exploiting the poor and suffering? It’s sick. But there are thousands of Lightwardens – and apparently Warwardens too – around this city, all communicating with one another. We’ve already broken half a dozen of their laws – a lot it seems that are punishable by death. You said yourself that we don’t know much about this city, but I do know this – if we go in there and pick a fight, we either die or we create an international incident.” I nodded down at the guards. “We’ve might have already gone too far. We need Fenodara’s help if we’re going to do what we came here to do.”
“So you want to just ignore this?!” Her voice was shrill from pure fury.
“Hell no, not for a second. But we need to be clever about it. There’s nothing two lone Guardians can do about it. So let’s head back and act like nothing happened. Judging by what Jamiah said, this has been happening for a long time, so it will be still happening when we finish what we came over to Pandemonia for. Once we’ve had all the help we need to get our missions done, we go back through the Veil and speak to Sage Faru. If need be, we’ll come back with an army of Chosen and rip Aegis Caria’s child army right out from underneath him.”
Gabriella looked conflicted, a pained expression on her face. It was clearly eating her alive to even consider my words. “What about Iralia?”
I shook my head. “We have to leave her for now. Look, no matter what we’ve seen, they can’t just harm a Guardian of the Alliance. That would be a big mistake.”
Gabriella face crumbled. She knew I was right. “Alex, they’re supposed to be the good guys.”
My expression steeled. “I don’t think that war allows for good guys, Gabriella. That’s the fundamental problem with war. Everyone thinks that what they are doing is the right thing and for the right cause.”
“So do you think what we do is right then? That what we struggle for every day is just?”
I stared into her eyes as the rain pelted down around me.
“I hope so.”
10
Alex
After using the harsh rain to wash away the traces of our deeds, we made our way back through the Partition in silence, retracing our steps and being careful to avoid any more interaction with the Lightwardens. When we got back to the entrance, Gabriella wrapped herself around my back and I used cracks in the walls to climb slowly and carefully up until we reached a narrow recess a few feet below the parapet where the wardens patrolled. We lay flat – holding our breath – and waited until another set of wardens passed through the door. I waited for the perfect moment and then grabbed hold of Gabriella once more, landing silently behind them. We slipped unnoticed through the door.
The air was warm and fresh in comparison to the stormy weather of the Partition. It’s some kind of façade, either this or over there...I don’t know which. The area was once again populated with citizens, the immediate threat over. The vendor was picking up the remains of the discharged water fireworks, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Several Displaced had been tasked with aiding the cleanup, their skinny arms loaded with cleaning materials that they used to scrub off the watery paint from the buildings and pavements. They worked tirelessly, only pausing every now and then to wipe away layers of sweat from their foreheads with the back of soap-covered hands. I felt bad that they had to work hard because of us, but I didn’t regret going through to the Partition. I recalled Gabriella’s words: “We should keep our eyes open while we’re here.” They were now wide open.
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nbsp; We entered one of the main shopping Ziggurats and found a bathroom where we were able to get most of the rain out of our clothes and hair. Not long after we had exited back into the main area, a second resonating clang echoed out across the district. Those working started to pack up their things, the vendors dropping canvas hoods over their stalls and using straps to secure the contents in place. Only the Displaced kept working. A hum of electricity preceded a megaphone announcement.
“Citizens and visitors. The Great Clock has chimed for a second time. The curfew will be in effect one hour from now. All communal areas aside from the Atrius must be vacated immediately. If you are not dining there, for your safety, please return to your homes. We wish you a pleasant evening.” There was a pause. “Desria le Ignitéa eo le Luminae shidar zerios.” For the light of the Luminar shines brightly.
The Qi’lern motto was likely meant to rally and inspire, but it sounded hollow to my ears after the atrocities I had just witnessed. Yeah, and you’ll do anything to keep it shining, like send children to their deaths.
“We should get to the Atrius,” said Gabriella, her voice flat and empty.
I couldn’t tell if she was still angry with me for stopping her from going after Jamiah or just shocked like I was. Either way it was obvious that being in Pandemonia had rattled her. It was rare that Gabriella did anything without thinking and planning it through first – the fury she had left the Aquadome with and her move against the Lightwardens betrayed the fact that she wasn’t thinking normally. To be fair, I can’t really blame her.
After asking a citizen for directions, we took the Lightrail to the Victus District at Railport IX, where the Atrius was apparently located. We emerged onto a walkway high above the district. The area below was a stunning mix of bistros and cafés, all boasting a different style and design, from the ‘nook and cranny’ European look with wooden interiors and fireplaces, all the way up to sleek and modern with self-ordering from wall-mounted screens and stools that rose from the ground, like those in Faru’s office. All the restaurants splintered off from a central area, where a grand fountain depicted a famous battle scene with sword-wielding Elves and Pixies locked in battle – and winning – against the ugliest of the Umbra races.
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