Chapter 1- The Ingostles
The mornings in Chire were usually filled with the beautiful tones of the two-hundred Ingostle women. Once a week, a session of sacred service would be administered in the Feminist Church of Ingost. It was Monday morning, the day of the Sabbath to the Ingostle followers. Hundreds of women in their best dress ran to the beautiful oak doors of what looked like a mansion of a multi millionaire gentleman. Although, it didn’t belong to a single man. It belonged to an entire church, a church with two hundred women living inside its walls.
When entering the church, a grand golden foyer would open up to the grand doors to the chapel with the spiral staircase twisting up beside it. As the followers would enter, the doors would open and a massive chapel would stand. The velvet padded pews held dozens of excited women, waiting for the session to begin. They talked amongst each other, sitting by their friends and visitors, discussing of lessons and social life, anxiously waiting for the revelation of a magnificent speech. Above, wrapping around the chapel, Ingostle women stood against the golden railings, their gloved hands resting on the wood. Standing behind the oak podium, fifty more women stood in their red form-fitting dresses, standing with so much poise, they looked like goddesses in a court. Their large hats hid a section of their painted faces, the beauty of their eyes seeming to look directly at each individual in the congregation. The head of the church, a woman in a large red dress that came out with a lace covered train, stood at the podium. With her straight posture, she stood so elegantly, her massive hat merely complementing her immaculate complexion. As she stood there at the podium, a smile upon her crimson lips, the congregation fell silent.
“Welcome Ladies!” She greeted, her gloved hands open to the people in the pews, “For those who have come for the first time, we appreciate your presence. We love newcomers, even if this is the only time coming here. Our church believes choice and divine nature and I hope you all will walk out of here with full hearts. So, as the beginning of this wonderful session, we will be singing: Shine and Divine.”
Although the Ingostles were beautiful singing for the prelude, it gave the congregation chills as they sang along, holding their hymn books with full commitment. The power of three hundred women singing in harmony brought tears to those listening both inside the church and outside. The Empress sat back down, the lyrics memorized from heart.
Cromella Westwood stood by the doors, unsure whether to enter or to leave. Although she desperately wanted to be part of the church, she hesitated. There was nothing wrong with the church, in fact being an Ingostle was always what she dreamed of, the problem was herself. She leaned against the door frame, whispering the lyrics under her breath
“Are you going in or out?” An Ingostle asked Cromella, politely looking at her under the deep make-up.
Cromella looked at the Ingostle in front of her and froze up, gazing at her in disbelief. She had never been this close to one before, but to see the make-up and the details upon their clothing was remarkable to a girl so primitive such as she. Her words wouldn’t come out of her mouth for several moments, but as the Ingostle continued to gaze, she nodded.
“Out I guess.” Cromella muttered, stepping away from the door so the Ingostle could close it.
To see the elegance of their stance, so perfect. Their vines painted upon their absolute faces so pristine, it was difficult to believe those woman were as human as Cromella herself. How beautiful they were to be so polite and wonderful, how they seem so perfect compared to Cromella’s life.
They had the beauty she felt she lacked.
Cromella exited the immaculate building, leaving the gates and returning home. Her mother watched Cromella as she approached her in a daze, a daze of deep thought. She felt terrible, yet wonderful at the same time. She was face to face with, what she considered, a celebrity, yet all she could do was compare. In her head, the image of that Ingostle lingered in her head like an idol. Her mother was out in front, trying to pull weeds from their tiny old house and instantly noticed Cromella.
“Mella, get out of your daze, you’re scaring me!” her mother snapped, approaching her. Her mother cocked her head, trying to understand why Cromella was feeling this way.
Then she placed her hands on her hips, “was there a boy?”
All Mella could do was shake her head as she still admired the image in her head.
“Did you try to go again?” Her mother wondered, slipping her green garden gloves from off her fingers.
Finally, Mella snapped out of it and looked at her mother, leaning against the white picket fence.
“They’re so gorgeous, mother. So thin and immaculate, so… wonderful. How they paint their faces and wear those elegant dresses. How they walk so ladylike, how they speak with so much politeness. I just… want to look like them.” Melle said in a forlorn way.
Her mother slapped Melle’s arm with her garden glove.
“Well you don't. It takes a lot to be like them and it’s unhealthy, especially for your size.”
Melle gazed down at her short round form and heaved a sigh. She was neither tall nor slender. Everything was wrong about her, that’s why she struggled to enter that chapel. Hurt, she bit her lip, gazing down at my stomach. She couldn’t see the zipper to her pants as rolls of fat blocked her view. It shouldn’t be that way, but what could she do about it when she wanted to be an Ingostle now. To lose weight would take weeks, if not months and she felt she had to do it now.
“I know.” she muttered, “I could be just a follower like everyone else and JUST hear the lessons.”
“That's what you love about it anyway, Mella, right?”
Mella lifted her head to look back at her mother.
“But there is more than just the lessons.”
Her mother shook her head, wrapping her fingers around her own large hips. Her green eyes, the same ones Cromella got, were stern, turning dark as she sternly looked at her daughter.
“Cromella, there are major cons about joining them. One, you won't fit in, you'll be the odd one of the bunch and you'll regret joining. You just don’t look like them and it would be near to impossible for you to even try. You’ve got to learn to appreciate what you have, what you love here instead of there. Two, you'll be leaving me! Family, it's limited to see and I would hate that. I love you with all of my heart and if you leave me, I’ll be alone and forgotten as you miserably live with women that are nothing like you. You need to think this through Mella before you decide to run off with those Ingostle women! It’s not just-”
“I have!” Mella snapped back, tears raining down her face.
She had been thinking about it all day, it hadn't left her head. It bothered her, yet that was all she wanted. It hurt her to realize she couldn’t, but she was so passionate about it, she couldn’t imagine living without it.
“I have been thinking about it for weeks. About the life I would have if I did decide to become an Ingostle. Yes, I would be leaving you and I don’t really have the shape of an average Ingostle, but they are just so… wonderful! I think of those stories of small people making big dreams and I wonder if I could do that too. It’s hard, but that’s all I want. Nothing is impossible mom, if I have to lose weight to become an Ingostle, than so be it, but I want to be one now. You don’t realize how hard it has been, to realize how impossible it could be for me to be what I want. I have thought about it.”
“Cromella-”
“Please, mom. Think of how your daughter will be when she follows her dream?”
Mella didn’t let her mother say anything else. Red faced and frustrated, Mella marched inside her house and threw herself on the couch of her living room.
While she sat on the couch, her mother entered the house and went straight to the kitchen, completely ignoring her. Mella heaved a sigh and got up to walk towards the bathroom, seeing herself in the mirror. She felt sick, she had seen that face so much yet never enjoyed to look at it. Mella squeezed her eyes shut and marched out, slamming her body on her bed.
“Mella, I’ve got lunch in the kitchen if you’d like some.” Her mother said from the door.
Mella, at first, didn’t listen. She only looked down at her pudgy fingers, a tear falling on her stretched skin.
“Mella!” her mother called again, “it’s time to eat!”
“Alright, I’m coming.”
Mella got up and followed her mother to the kitchen. She forced herself to eat, shoving the leftover casserole in her mouth without saying a word. Her mother was long finished before Mella did, but she didn’t much care. When she finally took her last bite, she heaved a sigh and shoved her head into her folded arms. The more Cromella thought about it, the more she realized the needed to be an Ingostle. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest, pumping blood as she seemed to shudder in joy of what she could become. Then it would diminish within seconds as she realized her mother's expectations and her own image would give her no chance into that church. It was merely a dream she would never make. That joy would quickly turn into grief and her soul felt like sinking, her body growing cold and feeling mentally dark.
“Oh Cromella,” her mother muttered, “stop being down on yourself. You have a happy life here, all of your happy moments have been here, never at that church.”
She lifted her head, “I am twenty-one though. Can’t I make my own decisions?”
“I am merely giving you suggestions. I’m not forcing you to not go, I know you are a grown woman, but wouldn’t you want to stay with me just a little while longer?”
“Twenty-one years, mom, I want to be an Ingostle.”
“Cromella, you wouldn’t be able to marry, have kids, a family. I would never have grandkids, you could find yourself getting into a royal mess and I would be a woman with not only a husband always gone but a daughter too.”
“I don’t care about a husband or kids, I want to be an Ingostle.” Mella tried, wishing to escape instead of argue with her mother.
When her mother realized the frustration building up, she took a deep breath, tensing her fingers to calm herself down. Mella’s mother tried to think of other alternatives and, as she looked back at Mella, she gave her a wry smile.
“Mella, if it will make you feel any better, we can go on a trip away from here, somewhere where you won’t see them or hear them. A good break from this burden you’re forcing on yourself. We can take a breather, have time to think of the situation.”
“But-”
“Just for a few days.”
“Mom, I don’t need to think it through. If I become an Ingostle, I’ll make friends in there. And you can always visit me.”
“Will it make you completely happy? Will it make me happy?”
Cromella shut her mouth, dropping her head back in her arms. She didn’t respond for a moment, sitting there in silence.
“I don’t know mother... I don’t know what to do.”
She was old enough to make her own decisions, so why was it so hard? Although she had been living with her mother her entire life, she was old enough to live off on her own. She was twenty-one. The Ingostle age limit was twenty. She could have left last year had she still not had those serious doubts about herself.
“How about we go to the Great Halmonacs. We haven’t been there for a long time and it’s a great place to enjoy and think.”
Mella stood up, wiping her tears with the back of her rounded hand and stuck her hands in her jeans.
“I guess visiting the Halmonacs would be nice.”
Her mother smiled.
“Great, we’ll leave this weekend. I’ll pack us a nice picnic that we can eat on the grey-sand beaches and we’ll stay in a good hotel just by the beautiful Halmonac statues.”
Mella felt numb to any more feeling. Dried tears stained her warm face, the thought of escaping was nice, but she wanted to escape without her mother around.
“Whatever works for you, I’ll do whatever.”
“Great, we’ll have a wonderful time. Somewhere to escape. Why don’t we actually leave tomorrow, go ahead and pack and we’ll go visit the Halmonacs. How does that sound?”
“It works fine.”
“Good.”
Mella returned back to her bedroom, her mind too wandered into deep thoughts to pack up for the next day yet. She looked over at the window, spotting a small group of Ingostles walking down the street handing invitations of their church to people on the sidewalks. One noticed Mella looking at them through the wide open window and she waved a black gloved hand to her with a welcoming smile. Mella hesitated, but then gave a tiny wave back before closing the curtains. As soon as the canvas curtains covered the light from her window, her bedroom looked dark and alone. Mella merely just stared at her bedroom, leaning against her bedroom wall. In the corner, an open suitcase waited to be packed with clothes. It was open for her chance to be an Ingostle, but this time, it would be the escape with her mother to a childhood memory.
“Maybe leaving for a bit will let me think.” Mella told herself, trying to act excited as she picked out her clothes to throw into the suitcase.
Chapter 2- The Halmonacs
It was about a two hour drive to the Halmonacs down East. Mella had convinced herself that she was going to have a good time getting away from her little town of Chire, but there was still that tiny part of her that knew this was a useless trip. Between all the trouble, she tried her best to enjoy this trip her mother wanted her to have. On the car ride, they belted out songs while pounding their hands on the open window of the car and slurping down milkshakes on the way.
“Make it rain, make it rain. Cuz that man is driving me insane. I hope to find my way out of this place…” they continued to scream the jumpy words out, bouncing in their seats as they made their way down the highway. This continued on for about an hour before Cromella was snoring on the window sill, her mother humming to herself as she continued to drive down the road.
Around the highway there was mostly just grassland with some tiny towns here and there. The Halmonacs wasn’t in any sort of city, it was a monumental place that didn’t really belong to anyone. It was a tourist sight, so there was a small touring old town for visitors as they made their way to the Halmonacs, places where they could buy overpriced souvenirs and postcards. Mella was still asleep when her mother passed through the old town, the little amount of people there walking out of the stores with a dreamcatcher that they probably spent four times as much on and possibly a keychain that will break off a week after they put it on.
While the tourist town seemed dead, the sight was quite remarkable even though it didn’t have much people at all. Besides, it was the off season, it would multiply by the thousands when summer arrived. After the town, Mella’s mother drove down a road that ran across the grey sand beaches, the darkened water brushing over the lightly tinted grey and leaving a glitter of wet sand particles across the shores. It wasn’t until the little car hit a large bump in the low-maintenance road that she woke up with a jolt, her eyes instantly looking over at the beach. Although she couldn’t see the Halmonacs yet, just seeing the beach so close was relaxing to her.
The Halmonacs were from the extinct civilization of The Moux. They were statues built on strong stones on the shores of the grey-sand beaches built to at least 200 feet tall. Their structure was so strong, these statues had withstanded the massive waves for hundreds of years, holding their staffs and their stone faces sternly looking over the seas. There was six of these Halmonacs, standing about 800 feet from each other, right against the rushing waters of the big blue. As the car continued on down the road, the statues started to come into view.
Once they were parked, Mella scurried out of the car and stood on the edge of the parking lot, leaning against the railing. They looked like real men, petrified in stone as they stood to protect the once-existing Moux. That’s what they were, to intimidate. Those out in sea destined to take over lands would see the overwhelming statues guarding the shores, and they would flee in the intimidation of the structures. They stood in a battle stance, one fist clamped to its side while the other is held firmly to its armored chest. It’s feet stood parallel to the ground, feet slightly apart to show aggression and stability. If they were real men, they would not be ones to mess with.
A large dock took out far enough that tourists could walk to the end of it and admire the front ends of the statues. Mella and her mother stood at the far end of that dock, gazing at the determined faces on those statues, as if any ship in their sight would flee from them in an instant. Mella leaned against the railing, resting her chin on her hand as she admired the Halmonac statues.
It was a time of war. She knew about war all too well as if civilization never learned from it’s past. The moux still fell extinct, an unknown phenomenon that scientists couldn’t quite find the right theory for. They were so strong and smart, they were strong in their military, their physiology, their architecture, everything was remarkable, yet… they no longer existed. That was what was so hard, to realize another war is going on at that moment and, even though civilization is power, it still could end up as the Moux. Extinct.
With the deep thoughts of the roaring waves crashing over the still-standing statues, she didn’t notice one of those massive waves come splashing over the dock. It struck the wood and exploded, masses of water pouring over her in an instant. Mella screamed, the cold water striking her unexpectedly. Dripping, her mother gasped and Mella gazed down at her soaked thin white t-shirt.
Now the white shirt was nearly see through.
Mella’s face went beat red. There was little around, but standing out in the open feeling like she wasn’t wearing a shirt was humiliating.
“Mom!!” Mella screamed in panic, bending over dripping in the cold ocean spray.
Trying not to laugh harder than she already was, her mother uncovered her mouth to say:
“I’m sorry sweetheart, can’t help you.”
Even though it was cooler outside, her mother did not bring a jacket or anything to cover Mella with.
“I can’t go walking around like this.”
“Then here, take my shawl.” a voice said from behind.
Mella slowly turned around, embarrassed to turn to the witness behind her. There, standing behind her was a small group of Ingostles of about six women, standing with their red dresses and black shawls wrapped over their shoulders, their hats elegantly covering the hazy sun from their painted faces.
“Sh-shawl?” Mella asked, already shivering.
Mella had left to the Halmonacs to get away from seeing them, yet they were right there. Her mother remained silent by the time they showed up and Mella merely gazed at them in awe.
“Of course, here you go sweet girl.” the Ingostle said, pulling the shawl off of her shoulders and placing it on hers. Mella was speechless, but accepted the shawl. She wanted to say something like “I don’t want to take your shawl” or even just a simple “thank you”, but the six young women left and Mella was alone with her mother again.
“Bummer.” her mother said, “I brought you here to avoid them and you still run into them.”
Mella was still watching the red dresses get smaller and smaller, the brightest color within the greys and blacks of the halmonac beaches.
“Maybe it's meant to be.” Mella whispered to herself, but loud enough for her mother to hear as she gazed down at the shawl around her shoulders.
Mella’s mother shook her head in confusion, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She turned to her mother, “Maybe it's meant that I’m supposed to join this church. They keep showing up in my life and it just gives me more of a chance. I think they want me to join them.” Mella explained
“That’s ridiculous! You’re thinking too much on the problem, they're probably trying to get you to not join. You know you’ll never fit in those dresses and maybe they just keep showing up because they don’t want you to.”
Mella shook her head, turning away from her mother.
“I don’t think so.”
“We didn’t come here to talk about those Ingostles.”
“Than why did you bring it up?”
“Because they showed up.”
“Which gives me a better reason to think that this is meant to be. That I’m supposed to go this church.”
Her mother snatched her arm.
“Let's get to the hotel, I've seen enough of these statues.” she said, the shawl not quite covering everything she needed on her clear wet shirt as her mother pulled her away.
The hotel was not bad, but Mella was hoping something more homey, but she would deal with it for a couple of nights. When she was in the room, she huffed and sat on the bed, resting her chin on her hand. Her mother had brought home chicken fried steak from a nearby restaurant and they ate in the half kitchen as the sun settled down into the grey ocean. They sat down together as they watched some of the television, continuing to snack on chips and candy as they watched. Mella wanted to be outside where she could breathe and admire the Halmonacs, but she remained next to her mother on the bed. Although her mother laughed hard on the things happening on the television, Mella just sat there in her own deep thoughts about the Ingostle women. She had long changed into a new shirt and just played with the wet black knitted shawl. The yarn was so soft, and it was crocheted so elegantly.
As the evening grew on, Mella tucked into her covers, still gazing at the shawl under the blanket.
“You’ll need to get it back to her, Mella. And if you don’t find her, I suggest you send that shawl to a thrift store or a charity.” Her mother said rhetorically.
“Good night, mother.”
That night, deep in her own dreams, she stood in her Ingostle dress standing in front of the Empress. She looked Cromella up and down and scoffed,swiping her hand away from her.
“I’m sorry, that dress didn't seem to fit you well, you've got to much fat on your pudgy little body to fit such a slender fitting dress. I can't let you into my church, it's disgraceful to the public.”
“I’m a… I’m a disgrace?”
“In my church, yes. Your beauty shows elsewhere but not here. Go back home miss Westwood, you’ll like it there better than here.”
Disappointed, Cromella found herself dragging herself out of the church doors, Ingostles laughing at her on the way. They stood in rows, their eyes following her as she approached the door.
“Your so pudgy Cromella.”
“Go home to your mommy.”
“Just not pretty enough huh?”
“Disgrace to the public.”
“You’re not even lady-like.”
“You’ll never fit in no matter where you go.”
By the time she left those doors, she was in tears, falling to her knees on the steps of the churchouse.
“I’m a disgrace.” She whimpered.
Her mother approached her, resting her hand on her shoulder. Cromella gazed up at her mother, tears heavy in her eyes.
“Come on Cromella, it’s time to go home where you’ll be happy.”
“Hah! Cromella is still living with her mom!” Another chimed.
“She’ll probably still be living with her when she’s fifty years old.”
“Stop it.” Cromella said, but it only came out as a squeak, “stop it.” She tried again, but it wasn’t any louder.
“There is no way for sweet pudgy Mella to have a social life. We all know she wasn’t liked at school, most just pretended to like her. She thinks she can fit in with us Ingostles, but she won’t and so we won’t let her. Go live with your mom, Cromella Westwood, that’s all the life you're ever going to get. Go home! Go home-”
Cromella tensed, squeezing her hands tight in fists.
“Go home, Cromella. Go live with your mom until your death bed. Go home!”
“STOP!!!!!!!!!!” Cromella screamed, turning back to the women.
They froze up and in a puff, they all disappeared and all went quiet. Breathing heavily, Mella turned to her mother and shook her head.
“Let’s go home, Mella.” Her mother tried, reaching over and placing her hands on Cromella’s shoulders.
Mella jerked the hands away, glaring at her mother.
“My home is not where you think it is!” She cried, “I’m meant to be here. Because of you, you have set my dreams to doubt where I really belong. None of them are like that, I am a woman. I want to be a lady. But to do that, I am going to join this church whether you like it or not.”
Cromella started marching back into the church, but her mother snatched her arm.
“Mella, please!”
“Mother, I am twenty-one years old. I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Now leave me alone, I’m going to be an Ingostle.”
Cromella woke up from the dream speechless. It seemed so real, but so quickly it had happened. Her chest burned in anger and frustration and the feelings towards her mother and the Ingostles struck her through. She needed a moment to think, think without her mother hovering around her or anyone else. She slipped out of the bed and walked out of the motel.
Although it was cooler outside, it was nice to feel the midnight breeze brush against her pale skin. She walked on the shores of the beach, staring at the large moon shining over the black water, peeking between the statues with its hazy glow.
She was old enough to make her own decisions. She had her own agency, her mother had no control over her, yet, at the same time, she loved her mother, why would she disobey her mother’s expectations? Yes, she was an only child, living alone with only her mother as her father fought across the world. So why was it so hard what her mother decided for her? Mella was an adult, if she wanted to be an Ingostle, she could choose to do so without her mother's consent. That what was so hard, though, the fact that her mother disagreed with her choice, holding her back from reaching her dream.
Mella heaved a sigh and fell in the sand, digging her face in her hands. The sounds of the waves was soothing, but it wouldn’t forever help her situation. She was floating in this unknown life that had an unknown future, she didn’t want to live with her mother until she was fifty, but where else would she go? She had a dream for a future that so many people doubted she could do. Maybe she did just deserve to stay home with her mother forever, living in her basement at fifty years old with no social life and no family.
That was nothing of what she wanted though.
Wiping her tears, Cromella continued to gaze into the night sky. The stars were better to see being near only a small town. The lack of light pollution allowed Mella to look at the bright stars and see every detail in the sky; the pigment of blue, the shapes of constellations or the cloudy purple colors of her galaxy strung across the evening. She sat there for several minutes in deep thought, wanting to just cry until she resolved it if resolving it at that moment was possible.
As she sat there, a gust of wind whipped her auburn hair and a long piece of cloth hit her arm. She broke off from her thoughts and reached over to pick up the cloth that flew to her, holding it up with both of her hands to take a closer look. It took her a moment to realize what it was, but as she gazed at the cloth, sewn into a tube, one open while the other was closed off and separated into five sections. It had to be only one thing
It was a long black lace glove.
It was from an elegant hand of an Ingostle. She wondered if it was the Ingostle who offered her the shawl earlier that day, but there was more than just her on that beach. Mella slipped her hand into the glove, her hand barely fitting into it’s slender fingers. She couldn’t keep the glove on for long as she started to see the seams splitting, the fabric ripping as it strained to keep it’s shape. She pulled it off, throwing it into the sand in frustration. She glared at it for a moment before gathering up sand and burying it, slamming her hands over the buried glove.
She sat there in silence staring down at the pile beside her. All she could think about was the glove under the mound. She brushed away the sand, the glove sitting there ripped and covered, no longer the beautiful glove that hit her during that gust of wind. She picked it up, squeezing the fabric in her chubby fingers and holding it to her chest as she cried in the dark of the night.
Chapter 3- Lady Amalla
Cromella had never felt more miserable. She felt utterly alone even if her mother was still there all the time, as if she didn’t have anyone to support her decisions. Doubts of her own self filled her mind, of this decision she wanted so terribly, yet nobody seemed to encourage her.
As soon as Mella arrived home, she swiftly walked to her bedroom where she slammed her body on her bed. Although her mother didn’t know exactly what happened, she knew it was something she wouldn’t confront at the moment. She left Mella alone in her bedroom while she did some housework.
As Cromella moped in her bed, a knock came at the front door. Usually she was the one who would answer, but her mother would answer this time. Her mother opened the door, almost not surprised at the fact that it was the very woman she never wished to see. An Ingostle. In specific, an Empress. She stood in her massive red Empress dress, the black lace train run down her stairs. The Empress tilted her head in a formal greeting, her face hidden in her massive hat.
“Mrs.Westwood.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Yes, may I come in?”
Although she hesitated, Mrs. Westwood nodded and opened the door wider. The Empress entered, taking a seat on the living room chair across from Mrs. Westwood. The Empress sat so poised on the chair, gazing at Mrs. Westwood with admiration. Although she seemed too unreal, as if she was some perfect princess in a fairy tale, a figurine in an immodest house. Mrs. Westwood sat across the room unsure what to do with the perfect woman or what to say, looking at her like some god she didn’t believe in to find her actually real.
For quite a few minutes, the Empress spoke to Mrs. Westwood , but then she insisted for Cromella to come in here so she could speak to her. Mrs. Westwood agreed, knowing Cromella would love to see her, even if she, herself, did not. Nevertheless, Mella’s mother would do as the Empress insisted since she was the guest at the moment.
“Cromella!” Her mother called, “someone is here to meet you, can you come out of your room please?”
Cromella hesitated, not knowing who it was in her living room, but she would do as her mother asked. Groaning, Mella got out of bed, running her fingers through her tangled light brown hair as she dragged her feet down the hall. She didn’t really care who was at the door, she just wanted to be alone. As she stepped into the living room, it took her a moment to realize the massive red gown of the immaculate woman. The Empress. Mella’s eyes grew wide and she darted away towards the bathroom. She leaned against the counter in the bathroom, gazing through the mirror of her disheveled self and trying to catch her breath.
“Cromella, don’t be rude. Come back in here!”
“Just give me a moment!” She called.
Now excited, she quickly snatched a brush, trying to groom her hair to realize the brush was only getting caught in the ratted up mess of her hair. Unsure what else to do, her excitement and anxiety so high, she threw a sunhat over her mess and threw on a jacket to dress up her grungy shirt. She returned just seconds later embarrassed and unprepared, trying to straighten her shirt as she reentered the living room. Stiffening up, she gave an awkward wave as the Empress stood up to greet her.
“Hello Cromella, how are you dear?” She asked, a warm smile upon her lips.
“Uh… grange-gr-grun-great! I’m doing great.” She said, the words being forced out of her mouth, but it only embarrassed her more.
Cromella shrunk, looking up at the tall slender woman in front of her. The Empress's smile grew wider, tipping her head. Her blue eyes gazed through the veil draped over the massive hat, her hat tipped to only see the shadow of her face.
“My name is Lady Amalla. I wanted to stop by and say hello as to see how you are doing. Some of my ladies had gone down to the Halmonacs to clean up the water grime on that sight-seeing bridge, as a service project of course, and I had heard they had run into you. They had just arrived when they saw you. They thought they recognized you from here and when they described to me how wonderful you were, I almost immediately knew who it was.”
All Mella was thinking was how the Ingostles described the situation. Seeing a girl who looked practically half naked as her shirt was completely see through. If they had described her to Lady Amalla, would they have mentioned that she is overweight and struggles with socializing? Mella kept those thoughts deep in her head and thought of other things to say.
“Did they work in those dresses?” She managed to ask, thinking of how they were supposed to be doing a service project and they were in their beautiful dresses.
“Oh no, they don’t work in those dresses. We wear other clothes when we are working dear, we don’t want to get these gowns dirty do we not? Well, after that big splash of water and everything, I was so overjoyed that one of my Ladies offered you her shawl. How embarrassing that might have been.” Mella grew red, unsure what to say to the comment. Supposedly, the Ingostles had told their Empress everything and it made the situation ever more worse.
“However,” she added, “once they had told me, I had the impression to come visit you. Oh Cromella, you may think you aren’t seen standing by those doors just before the session begins, but I notice you, dear. Maybe Monday you can actually come in and listen to the full thing.” She said.
Mella wasn’t sure what to say. She wouldn’t have ever thought the Empress would notice her clear back there in the chapel, let alone knowing where she lived and what her name was. Unless, of course, her mother told the Empress her name, but how would she know where Cromella lived? Who she was, how she knew it was her that was living in this house and comes to every session to only leave before it even starts.
“I would love to but-...”
“But what, dear?”
Mella dropped her head, not sure how to respond without breaking into tears. She shook her head, this was the wrong time, why did the Empress have to show up now? At this time? Lady Amalla reached down and gently clenched her wrists, Cromella returned her glance up at the Empress.
“Although I don’t know you that well, I know you enough that you are more than what you think you are. My dear-”
“I just-” Cromella choked, the words hiding deep inside her.
“You just what?”
“I want to be an Ingostle.” Mella managed to say.
Behind the Empress, her mother stood, leaning against the wall, arms folded in the mixed thought of this situation. She knew it would get to this point but she wasn’t hoping for it to happen, not now anyway. Mrs. Westwood gave a look that warned Mella, it was a look of hurt, a look of betrayal. Mrs. Westwood then shook her head, walking off to leave Mella alone with the Ingostle leader. Lady Amalla placed two fingers under Mella’s chin and gently lifted her face, her bright blue eyes looking directly into Mella’s green ones.
“Then, my dear, why haven’t you said anything?”
“Because… because I didn’t think I… I could.”
“Anyone can, Cromella. If you wish to be an Ingostle, I will make you one.”
“Really?”
The Empress nodded and Mella burst into more tears.
“When can I become one?”
“When the time is right, we can decide a date for you.”
Mella straightened, inhaling a deep breath. She didn’t think about it any more until she said:
“I’m ready now.”
Lady Amalla gleamed, her eyes like moon crescents.
“Very well then, how does Saturday sound for you?”
“In three days?”
Lady Amalla nodded. Mella bit her lip, looking around her. She was grateful her mother had left because her presence would quickly change her mind, but now she was under pressure, it was all on her own decision. Nobody else, not even her mother. This was all she wanted and the opportunity was right there….Yet it all seemed too easy. She swerved her head back to the Empress.
“Alright, I’ll do it.”
“Great, come at noon this Saturday, we’ll coronate you into our religion at Three o’clock sharp on that same day. And make sure your mother comes. Anytime between now and 3 o’clock on Saturday, you can change your mind and I will not judge you if you tell me you no longer want to be an Ingostle. It takes a lot of commitment to be one and I’ll perfectly understand if you feel like becoming an Ingostle is too much. Your life would be at the church, you would read the holy words with us, you would pray with us, you would set your life to services constantly throughout the day, you would wear what we wear every single day, you would live with us, eat with us, laugh with us, cry with us and especially be a part of our family.”
“It sounds wonderful.” Mella cried, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Very well then, I hope to see you Saturday, my dear. Say good-bye to your mother for me, it seems she had disappeared. Let her know of her coronation, I hope to see her sitting in the chapel watching you get coronated. I’m looking forward to you joining our church. I must apologize for such a short amount of time, but I must get going, Cromella, however I wish you luck as you prepare yourself for the big day three days from today. Farewell, my dear.”
Lady Amalla left and Mella watched as she walked back to the church. She would have expected her to take some fancy car to her house, but she didn’t even have anyone else. It was just her that walked on her own down a mile or so to her house and back to the church. Mella fell on the couch, staring up at the ceiling in awe. She didn’t know what else to say, what else to do. She was invited to join the church by the leader herself, inside her own scroungy little house. Her mother was wrong, her dreams were wrong, Lady Amalla didn’t seem to doubt her one bit. In fact she... encouraged her.
Her mother appeared in the room, unusually silent. She kept her hands in the pockets of her jacket as she sat across from her daughter, hovering with no words, just silence. A darkness had seemed to envelope the room, her mother’s eyes dark as they peered at her daughter.
“Mella, did you... agree?” Her mother asked, but it sounded hurt.
“I did and it was wonderful.” Mella responded, playing with the corner of her shirt as she gazed up at the ceiling.
Her mother just stood there for several more moments, biting her lip. Her fists clenched and she ran over to her daughter, falling to her knees. She gripped her daughter's arm in desperation, looking at her with so much concern and hurtfulness.
“Mella, you need to listen to me!” She snapped, gripping her fingers tighter around Mella’s arm.
Cromella looked down at her mother.
“Yes mom?”
"Mella, please. These people aren’t right for you.”
“But she was so accepting. She didn’t even hesitate to invite me to join. She looked past my looks she-”
“Mella, listen to me!! You don't deserve to be going to such a formal church, you aren't... pretty enough, you don't talk like them and you don't even have the looks. You'll be left out, lost and forgotten. You would be better off without those… Ingostle prissy’s." She screamed.
Mella snapped out of her daze, looking at her mother in surprise. She had known her mother say bad things about her looks, but the fact that she wasn’t pretty enough. Mella tensed her jaw, looking down at her body in doubt. She jerked her arm away from her mother's grasp and stared at her pudgy fingers. The Empress was so accepting, so kind to her, she saw beyond her looks, beyond her weaknesses. Her face started to turn red, holding her breath as she continued to think of all her mother said and all the Empress said and all that she agreed and said. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She squeezed her fingers into her palm and whipped her head back to her mother. Her mother just looked at her in desperation and it angered Mella more. She stood up, pulling away from the constant grabbing her mother was trying to do to keep her down.
"Well... If they have a dress my size, they'll have a spot for me in that church too!" She started towards the door, but before she left, she glared at Mrs. Westwood, “now mother, I’m going for a walk. I need to get out of this stuffy house and have a breather without you.”
As Cromella opened the door as her mother stood up, tears bursting out of her eyes.
“Mella!!!!” She whined.
“No mother!” Cromella snapped, “I am a grown woman who can make my own decisions. This has been my decision whether you’ve liked it or not! I have chosen this path and you don’t need to tell me if it’s wrong or not, because I can do what I want to do. You can’t control my entire life!”
Her mother fell silent as Cromella started to walk out.
“I’ll be back… later.”
As Cromella marched out the door, her mother ran to the frame, breathing heavily as she watched her daughter walk away.
“Cromella Westwood, you get back here!”
But she merely ignored her mother as she walked off in the distance, her mother calling her name until Mella could no longer hear her cries.
Chapter 4- Coronation Day
Cromella came home relaxed and at a form of peace. It was late in the evening, her mother sitting on the couch in the dark with the yellow lamp next to her. She held a book on her lap but didn’t read, she, instead, was looking at her daughter as she walked in.
“Finally came home did you?”
She was more than unhappy, Mella could feel the heartbreaking look her mother was giving her and it crushed her to know her decision wasn’t agreed upon. Mella rolled her shoulders back.
“Just needed to breathe.”
“Where did you go might I ask?”
“I just took a walk.”
“For four hours?”
“A very long walk.”
Her mother returned to her book shaking her head. Mella knew her mother had no words to describe her thoughts about her daughter, but she made this decision and she wasn’t going to change it.
“Good night, mother.”
“Did you only come home to go to bed? Will you leave me again in the morning?”
“I want to be with you before I go, mom, but… it’s late. I’m going to bed.”
“You can at least talk to me for a few minutes.”
“About what? You know what happened, I made the decision and I’m not changing it.”
Mrs. Westwood flared her nostrils, staring at her daughter until she quickly returned her eyes to the book.
“Good night then.”
Mella returned to her bedroom where she was able to have her good night's rest.
Her mother cried in the living room.
As the next couple of days came along, Mella spent her time in her bedroom, admiring the Ingostles walking down the streets and deciding what little things she could pack. Some valuables such as Heirlooms and gifts she placed in her little suitcase with as well a small amount of clothes. Her mother refused to speak to her, not even bothering to call for dinner. By the time Cromella would come out for dinner, the table would be cleaned, dishes would be done and the food would be in the fridge if there was any left. It seemed like her mother was already ready for Mella to not be home anymore.
Whenever her mother would be in the living room or the kitchen, she would completely avoid eye contact, keeping her focus on reading or cooking. Mella wanted to talk to her, hope to have her mother understand why she made this decision, but it seemed her mother would ignore her from then on.
As the morning of the coronation came, Mella was up and ready, her hair nicely groomed with the best dress she could find in her second class closet. Her suitcase was already waiting by the door and as she walked into the living room, her mother sat there beside it. And she was looking directly at Cromella. She held a letter in her hand, the look she was giving unpredictable. Something was up and it had to do with what was in her hand.
“Mella.” She finally said after so long of a silence within the house.
Cromella approached her mother, the letter handed to her. She held the envelope, staring at the ink on the paper:
To: The Westwoods
From: The Hechz Republic
Mella knew where it came from, she just wasn’t sure what to say according to her mother's face or the addressing on the envelope. Was it bad news or was it good? That was something she struggled to admit.
“Your father is coming home on Sunday.” She said very quietly.
“But he’s a general, he still has ten years left.” Mella said, unsure what else to say.
“Well he’s coming home early.”
“But why?”
“He-” Mrs. Westwood closed her eyes, “there was an explosion.”
Mella’s heart stopped short. An explosion? At this time?
“They sent him home because he got hurt?”
“He lost his left arm.”
Mella fell on the couch, staring at the ground in disbelief. She hadn’t seen her father for so long, how exciting it would be to see him again, even if he only had a right arm. Her heart skipped a beat, realizing what she was getting into. She reached into the envelope, pulling out the paper. It couldn’t be now, not right before she was going to leave her home, her mother, and her father in this case. Unfolding the sheet of paper, she gazed at the high class letter.
To Mrs. Lamenna Westwood,
We are sorry to inform you that your husband, Mr. Heil Westwood, was caught in an explosion near the border of Rumbeig. Luckily, your husband did survive but with some major injuries including a major concussion and the loss of his left arm at the femur. Because of his injuries, we are afraid that we have to send the General home. We have recruited a new General to take his place as General Heil Westwood is unable to continue in command. He will report home on Sunday, May 17, please be aware of his misfortunes. Thank you.
Although it was real in her hands, something was wrong with it. She knew it was the disbelief on what happened to her father, to have to send a General home. It would be so hard, to realize soldiers were losing their General because he lost his arm and couldn’t function correctly with his concussion. She read it a hundred times over, finding it almost casual as if they wanted to be more personal in the letter. It was definitely a letter written specifically for her mother, but it still… something wasn’t right.
“Is this a trick?” Mella spat, standing up and throwing the paper on her mothers lap.
She shook her head.
“I’m afraid not, Mella.”
“Right now, though! Does it have to be right now?” She screamed, grabbing the ends of her hair in panic.
Desperate, her mother snatched her daughter's hand. Begging.
“Mella please, stay to see your father.”
“I’ve already decided to join them.” Mella explained, trying not to panic inside, but it seemed like it was too late.
She jerked her wrist away from her mother's grasp. She didn’t know what to think.
“Mella!”
“They’ll probably let me go to see my father. He is so important to me, but by being a part of the Ingostles is just as important to me. I can’t just… cancel the coronation.”
“Then what? You’ll still go?!” her mother asked in defeat, “you’ll never get to see him come home.”
Mella smiled, “Dad would be proud that I’m following my dream.”
Her mother didn’t respond.
“Dad would be happier to see you home though, Mella!”
“It has been decided! I can’t change it, not now!”
Mella looked up at the clock, realizing she would be late if she didn’t leave right at the moment. Her mother realized the time and grabbed Mella’s wrist again.
“Your father needs you! You can still cancel it.”
“But what if I don’t want to?!”
“Cromella, please-”
“It’s time for me go.”
“You can’t leave me like this.”
“I will still get the chance to see you, mother. Plus, I’ll be back tomorrow to see dad.
“That’s a visit though.”
“I’m down the street, I’ll always be just down the street.”
“Down the street is too far for me.”
“I’m not going to live with you for the rest of my life. I’m twenty-one years old, I should be taking my own path instead of living with my mother for the rest of my life.”
“I’m just not ready for you to leave.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Mella please-”
“In fact, mom, you can come to my coronation. Then you’ll see me again today. You’ll see me in my Ingostle dress and I’ll be happy. Happy! It’s at three, in the chapel.”
Her mother puffed through her nose.
“I’ll think about it.”
Cromella grabbed her little suitcase, approaching the door. As she stood at the door, she sighed, turning to her mother. She was supposed to leave a couple of minutes ago.
“Mom please don't let me leave like this. You don't even want to say good bye. Please, I can't leave like this.” She begged, looking at her mother who didn’t even seem to give a hint of farewell.
Her mother stood up.
“Then don't leave at all.I don't want to say goodbye because it's not a GOOD bye. It’s a terrible bye and I don’t want to say it. Your dad is coming home, let your father see you. That’s all I want, to have you and dad home. Please, you can still cancel it right now-”
“Mom.” Mella tried, but she knew she would never be convinced that she deserved to join the church, “good bye, mom. .. I love you.”
Mella walked to the church. She had those mixed feelings of anxiety, excitement, regret, doubts, and fear. As she approached the grounds of the mansion of the church house, she suddenly felt sick. Her stomach lurched, her body feeling cold and the anxiety of forgetting something or the fear of bringing the wrong things twisting terrible thoughts in her overthinking mind. The way she left her mother just made her sick in the stomach to add to the other stresses, let alone the thoughts of her father and the thoughts of her very own self. She refused to cry, but the choke in her throat, she knew, wouldn’t hold in forever. As she approached the front, she was greeted by a servant girl and two Ingostles at the door.
“How pleased we are too see you. Come on in, Cromella, Lady Amalla would like to speak to you before you get ready for the coronation.” The servant girl said.
Mella was escorted to her office, feeling filthy in the immaculate halls. The hallway looked like it was gold leafed, elegant designs across the walls and dark wood doors leading to the Empress’s door where it would lead to another remarkable room. The door was opened at the end of the hall to show the Empress’s suite. Couches were placed in the corner with a fireplace, a massive window to light the crimson room, an environment so perfect. On the other side, the large desk held the work she did throughout the day neatly organized on her mahogany desk, her chair large and red-brown leather to add to the scarlet atmosphere. A couple of velvety red chairs surrounded the desk and an elaborate lamp stood, bringing light to that side of the massive wonderful room.
Lady Amalla was just entering from another side of the room, slipping back on her black gloves and approaching her desk without looking up when Mella waited there. She gleamed when she saw Cromella, her hands out in greeting. Lady Amalla kissed the side of Mellas face and gleamed, holding Mella’s hands in hers.
“My dear Cromella, how wonderful it is to see you. Have a seat on the couch, we’ll be more comfortable there instead of at my desk.”
Mella took a seat on the couch, her body sinking into its increasingly soft floral cushions. She wanted to slump over into a casual but comfortable position, but she already felt so immodest just standing there. She straightened her back, sitting at the edge of the couch while Lady Amalla sat across from her.
“Now the reason I wanted to speak to you before was because I wanted to let you know your commitment towards this. Only those with a pure objective and purpose in this church can join. With any lack, they should reconsider their decisions. Several have left seconds before becoming a lady, you can do the same if needed. It’s a wonderful opportunity, but it is a lifelong commitment. I know of your motives and I feel you will grow and do wonderfully as a full member of the Feminist Church of Ingost. I do not wish, however, to put you on the spot. If there is a conflict, I would advise you to reconsider such commitment as an Ingostle. If you decide to do so, I would love for you to come to more of our sessions and participate as a follower where you will still learn and develope from our lessons.
“When you enter your bedroom tonight, you will receive a rule book, please read it thoroughly. If any rules are broken you will have clearly shown your commitment in this religion was false and you'll be disconnected from the Ingostles. We Ingostles follow protocol to create order and the journey towards Edda’s perfection. The rule book will be necessary to follow for this commitment. You will as well get our Holy Scriptures: The Shei, where you will personally read every night and morning before you do anything else. The Shei is the key book of our religion so it is also a part of our order to read The Shei at the least, twice a day.
“It’s going to be hard. We will do a lot of service projects that may cause some physical work and some that we may do in our own church building. Everyday, lessons will be provided with as well the opportunity to even take trips for service. Our motive is to Shine for a divine life in heaven. We hope to all make it up to Edda.”
“I’ve been wanting this my entire life and I will do anything to become one.” Mella added, knowing that was what she told herself repeatedly in her head.
She almost second guessed herself when Lady Amalla mentioned of any conflicts. She did have conflicts, but she wanted to be an Ingostle more than ever. Her mother shouldn’t stop her now while she was so close into becoming one.
“Very well, you still have a couple of hours to change your mind but if you are absolutely and fully committed than... welcome, my dear. Do you have any questions for me before we get you ready?”
The first thought that came to mind was her father, it was what left such an unpleasant farewell as she left the house.
“Yes.”
“Please.”
“My father. I haven't seen him for five years because he’s a general in the Hechz Republic… but he was injured and he's coming home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, but by then I’ll be an Ingostle and I don't know if I’ll get that chance to see him.”
Lady Amalla grew that warm smile that just sent a pleasant message that everything was going to be okay.
“My dear, I don’t see why you can't see him.”
“But isn’t there a rule that when you become an Ingostle, you can’t see family anymore?”
“I can't take you away from everything being an Ingostle. Seeing your father is an exception, especially when you haven’t seen him for so long. Which is in the book, you can only leave the grounds under specific reason or orders from the Empress. Seeing your father is a very specific reason.”
Mella was so overjoyed, she was short of words. “Thank- thank you, thank you so much.”
Mella felt so relieved, so she will still get to see her father and not have to postpone her coronation. It was all working out the way it needed to be and it got her more excited of what she was doing. She was so worried about the chances of seeing her father come home, but she realized it wasn’t a big deal at all. Lady Amalla was thrilled to see the relief in Cromella’s face, knowing the conflict would not stop her from being an Ingostle.
For several minutes, Lady Amalla spoke about the church, talking about the rules and regulations, the activities, the great opportunity of becoming an Ingostle. Mella sat with fascination, occasionally breaking into conversation or asking questions that consists of the subject. They spoke for quite a while until Lady Amalla escorted her out of her office.
It wasn’t long until she found herself sitting in a tiny room covered in mirrors with two servants and in her underwear. They spent several minutes trying to fit the dress on her wide short body, their cold fingers against her skin as they measured and fitted her. The looks on their faces showed they had never made such a dress before and it didn't help the situation. Mella felt very uncomfortable, but the other part of her was in a daze at what she was doing why she was being treated the way she was. They were actually fitting her for her very own Ignostle dress, a dress that would personally fit her own body. She was going to be an Ingostle within the next few hours and it overjoyed her to know of her future ahead.
Once they had fit it according to her size, Mella felt even more uncomfortable. The dress was able to fit her so well, although the style of the dress showed her shape, her round shape. Even through the tight corset over her rolls of fat, there was still the large hips and a wide waist with a ribbon stretched around it, the massive chest and fat arms that fit snuggly into the specially made black lace gloves, everything looked much different on her than she imagined compared to the other Ingostles.
One servant spent her time working away at Mella’s thick mousy brown hair, struggling to pull it up into its needed bun. While she did that, the other servant prepped for the intense makeup she was going to place on Mella’s face, focusing deep on the shape of her face to make the designs perfect as the others continued to work at her hair. Once her hair was done, her face came next.
She shivered as the cold soft brush touched her skin. Never had she ever felt someone doing her make-up and it made her uncomfortable to have a woman so focused on her face. They covered her face in white, every crease, every corner of her skin was painted over like she was the canvas of an oil painting. When they worked at her eyes, she felt her eyes twitching uncomfortably as they took the eye liner over the edge of her lids or the flakes of black mascara across her short eyelashes. Luckily their stable hands managed to make up for her uncontrollable struggling. When they added the black vines, she felt the path of swirling lines across her painted skin, giggling at the tickling of the fine brush. Soon, she found herself looking at a hand mirror to a face she didn’t recognize.
Her nose itched at the foreign paint, but she refused to itch in fear of smearing the beautiful paint. As her nose continue to tingle, she started to find other random points across her face that just itched. She scrunched her face, hoping that would rid of the itchiness on her face and the ladies in the room giggled.
“You’ll get used to it.” One recalled.
“I feel like I’m wearing a mask.”
“That’s because you technically are.”
As they finished, one servant girl placed the large black hat over Mella’s head, the tool covering a portion of her eyes as it dangled from the lip. The hat itself had black feathers and a massive black Tulle bow spreading out across the immaculate hat, wires with red glass beads on the ends of them spread across with the feathers. It made Mella feel beautiful but confused, the hat feeling like it was hiding her face instead of beautifying it. They were treating her like a princess, but something didn’t seem like it should be that way. A feeling that was deep inside her, a very personal feeling she hated to feel inside her queasy gut.
Self doubt left Cromella near to tears as she started to realize what she was doing. She was going to change her life completely because of this. This was something that was completely different than what she was used to, she would be stepping into another world and never to return to her normal. A whole new culture, a new religion and a new lifestyle. This would have to be where she would need to adjust and claim as home instead of where she had been living in her entire life.
It was just minutes before the coronation and they had gussied her up to the point of uncomfortableness. She was walking to the door when her thoughts flooded down upon her. Mella felt weak in the legs and supported herself against the wall, clawing her fingers against her red silk dress. Her arms tingled as goosebumps rose and her heart began to thud out of her chest, pounding in her ears as if it was some warning to not go any further. Everything began spinning, as if her eyes couldn’t focus to where to look. Within the three servant girls, one of them seemed to take charge and she quickly noticed Mella leaned against the wall.
“I can't do this.”She cried.
The servant girl placed her gentle hand on her shoulder, looking at Mella with support and comfort.
“You can do this, Cromella Westwood. I believe in you, you just need to believe in yourself. It’s hard to move from what you are used to to a whole new culture. Change is hard, but I know you can do it.”
The servant girl sat Mella back down on a chair.
“I just… I don’t know what to do.”
“You came here knowing you wanted to be an Ingostle. Show it, Cromella, prove to your mother that soon you will be a Lady. A Lady who is meant to be one, an Ingostle who is wonderful in her own way.”
“I just don’t know how.”
“That's part of the religion, Mella. You learn how.”
Mella took a long moment to think it through. She gazed down at the white carpet, feeling cold as her body struggled to straighten out the nervous breakdown she was about to have. The servant girl gently held Mella’s hand and Mella finally was able to take a deep breath. She then straightened, standing up.
“I guess you're right.” She said, looking over to the servant girl with the hint of confidence slowly growing on her.
“So? Stand tall, hold a smile on that gorgeous face and if all else, fake it until you make it. I believe in you Mella.”
Cromella heaved a sigh.
“It’s time to go downstairs. Are you ready now?” The servant girl added.
Mella nodded.
Cromella followed the servant girl down towards the chapel, using the railings for support. In the doors, she could hear the organ playing, the melody so beautiful in her ears to know it was meant for her. She felt like she was going to her own wedding, except this was a ceremony where she would vow to never marry in her life. Besides that, she didn’t care about the marriage part, it was the Ingostle part she was looking forward to. Before entering, the servant girl placed a lace black shawl over her shoulders, adjusting it to look perfect on her body. She hoped the servant girl wouldn’t notice her trembling or the film of sticky sweat under her gloves.
“What is this for?” She asked, gazing down at the specially made shawl.
“The symbolism of your transfer from a citizen to an Ingostle. The shawl represents the follower, when removed, it transfers you into the full committed member of our church. When told to, you will give your shawl to the Empress and that is officializing you converting to an Ingostle.”
“So I can’t keep it?”
The servant girl grinned, patting her back. Mella already knew the answer to that.
“Good luck, Cromella.”
The doors opened and the music sounded louder in her ears, as if it was a gust of wind after opening the front door of your house. For some reason she was expecting a whole group of people looking over at Cromella with gleaming smiles on their faces, but the pews were empty. It was disappointing, but Mella let it pass as she saw the Empress ahead. Lady Amalla looked at her as she stood in front of the podium, behind her the two hundred Ingostles on the balcony and behind. They gleamed at the fact of a new Ingostle coming, but their faces only made Mella more nervous. Her feet walked without thinking, but all Mella wanted to do was turn around and scurry out of the nerve racking chapel. Every step seemed to ring in her ears, every trembling breath she could hear, every heartbeat seemed to pound harder and harder for every move she made. The loud organ music seemed to muffle, the aisle she was walking down looking infinite, Lady Amalla still so far away. She could feel her shoulders trembling, the shawl on the verge of slipping off and ruining the special occasion. Regret and excitement jumbled in her head and she suddenly wanted to puke, her face tingling in desperation. She didn’t know how she kept walking, her feet just kept putting one foot after the other. She clung on to her dress, looking up at the crowd of Ingostles gazing down at her. The attention was all on her. All on her...
Then she was in front of the Empress.
It happened so quickly, so suddenly. She was just, what seemed to be, a hundred feet away. Now she was directly in front of Cromella, standing with a gleam on her face.
“Cromella Westwood, how good it is to see you here, standing in front of me. You look absolutely stunning. Extravagant if you wanted a more vibrant word. Are you ready my dear?” Lady Amalla greeted with excitement, but this greeting was personally to her. It wasn’t said for everyone to hear, it was just to Mella.
Mella nodded, gulping hard as she lifted her head higher. Lady Amalla rested her gloved hands folded nicely over her lap. The Empress took in a large intake of air through her nose and began:
“Cromella Izzy Westwood, by the power of the first woman that arrived on this earth, Lady Edda, I, Lady Ralliel Amalla, place you as an Ingostle of our Feminist Church of Ingost. By the book of the Shei, all rules will be followed, your commitment will be final once I transfer you from citizen to Ingostle. Will you, Cromella Izzy Westwood, be a part of the Feminist Church of Ingost until the day you die and forever on as you pass on to meet Lady Edda, creator of earth?”
“Uh,” Mella gulped hard, “Yes.”
Lady Amalla grinned, “If you will give me your shawl, you will officially be a part of us.”
Cromella, struggled to think. She was grateful that Lady Amalla managed to tell her what to do, otherwise she wouldn’t have done anything. Mella pulled the shawl off her shoulders, her fingers trembling as she placed it over the Empress's arms. Lady Amalla gleamed.
“Welcome to our church, Lady Westwood.”
The Ingostles bowed, but it was in a way that was merely a slight tilt forward with the body and head and ending it off with a very gentle clap as they patted their wrists.
It was so short yet so wonderful to go through such a large event. Mella stood as the center of the Ingostles, looking up at them in a dress exactly like theirs. She had reached the Castles in the Air in becoming an Ingostle. Although, out of everything, she still felt faint, if not even more faint. Her legs barely managed to hold her trembling body as Lady Amalla led her to the eating hall. She didn’t have any time to think. Everything was a jumble of thoughts that she didn’t realize she was out of it until she was sitting at the dinner table.
She was the center of attention, making her feel feel out of place and in too high of a place to what she thought she was worth. They had set up a form of celebration with food lining the tables and red and black ribbons across the lace tablecloths, elegant flowers perfuming the room with the fresh smell of petals. When Cromella sat down, the same servant girl who had been helping her all day placed a special meal plate in front of her.
“Your first meal as an Ingostle.” She cheered.
“Thank you.” Mella said as she gazed down at the plate.
The food was on a golden dish, it felt like she was in a formal restaurant with food catered to perfection, something she would never afford in the first place. She wanted to cry to see something so beautiful, her emotions building up in a mess deep inside her gut. She didn’t feel like she wanted to eat it because it showed so much elegance in just a plate of food.
Cromella picked up her fork. By now, all of the Ingostles were seated but none of them were going to eat until Cromella did, placing more pressure than she already had. She just stared at the tongs, her thoughts deep in what was going on. It was all so confusing, yet so amazing. It was mesmerizing, but it was overwhelming. She broke out of her fork and looked back down at her food just as she noticed the hundreds of eyes looking directly at her.
Then she lost it.
Cromella burst into tears. In sheer embarrassment, she kept crying trying to stop it, but more tears just kept coming out. She dropped her fork, several women standing up to comfort, trying to ask what’s wrong and what they can help her with, but she didn’t know what. She felt like a child even though she was over twenty-years old, everything was just so vast and amazing and was too hard to believe. Then she had the other emotions of leaving what she grew up with, changing her entire lifestyle, it all was just gone as soon as she entered the church to talk to the Empress. Mixed feelings overwhelmed her and Cromella ended up soaking her plate in tears. As the tears started to soak her dinner, her tears started to change colors as they gathered the paint on her face, staining her dinner in paint as well. The servant girl helped Cromella on her feet and led her to the bathroom before she could be humiliated any longer with all the attention.
Usually they would wait for Cromella to finish, but with the circumstance, they started without her. Mella continued to cry when the servant girl took her into the bathroom, taking a warm rag to wipe her face down.
“Sh. It’s alright, Cromella. Was this just too much for you?” The servant girl asked, all Mella could do was nod, wanting to dig her face in her hands, but there was still wet paint on her skin.
Mella sat on the floor in her dress trying to calm down, but nothing was helping. She was a basket-case and she felt nothing could fix that. The servant girl had wiped off the makeup and had removed the hat from off her her head, giving her more air to breathe. They were in there for quite a bit, Mella refusing to leave until she calmed down. She was still trembling and she didn’t want to see the other Ingostles until she was standing with a clean painted face and perfectly okay to continue the celebration.
“Do you think you can go back to the eating hall?” The servant girl asked after several minutes on the tile in the bathroom.
“They’re probably finished by now.” Mella answered.
“Maybe I can take you to your room. You can take a nice shower to calm your body and I can bring up your dinner. Does that work for you?”
Mella gazed down at her stomach, knowing she was hungry. She would rather eat in her bedroom then eat with everyone watching her. She wasn’t used to the attention and she didn’t like it, this wasn’t something she considered when becoming an Ingostle. She didn’t like herself enough to allow others to enjoy her presence such as that.
“I wouldn’t mind that.” She responded.
The servant girl helped Cromella up on her feet, guiding her out of the bathroom and towards the stairs. They were just finished with dinner when Mella and the servant girl walked out and several were leaving. Cromella shrunk, knowing there would be women to congratulate or to apologize for her unfortunate breakdown, but most merely smiled at her, tipping their hat and continuing their way. They must have known Mella wasn’t looking for the attention at the moment. The stairs to the upper floor was a golden spiral staircase that seemed to infinitely go up. Her room was on the third floor so Mella was brought up two flights of spiral stairs to the hallway leading to her room. The carpet was increasingly soft, her black flats sinking into it as she walked with the servant girl down the hall. Her room was four doors on the right and the door seemed to welcome her in before entering with it’s elegantly carved white door with the same vines of flowers on their faces painted on the door.
The Ingostles shared rooms, but inside, it didn’t look like a room crammed with beds. Mella had two roommates, one at the end, another in the middle and Mella’s on the other end. Between the three beds was the nightstands, lamps rested on top with a window as well. The nightstands were small, probably used for more valuables than clothes due to the little amount of variety in dress. Mellas tiny suitcase was already taken up and it was placed on her bed, ready to be opened and put away. On her side of the room, a luxury bathroom suite was there, open enough for Mella to get a glimpse as the sink and tub in the far back of the massive bathroom.
She fully entered, running her hand over the silk comforter and to the knob of the bathroom door.
“I will bring up your dinner in about fifteen minutes. You can take that time to get settled, okay?”
“Okay.” Mella said in nearly a whisper, in awe she saw in front of her. This was where she would sleep, it all seemed like some dream she would have to wake up in sometime soon.
On the other side of the wall where the beds were, comfortable couch with a glass coffee table was in a corner for visiting and studying. On the table was a couple of magazines and a cross-stitch ring halfway in it’s process of being finished, a silver needle glimmering in the bedroom light. On the other side of the room was a small round table with four chairs around it and a bowl of fresh fruit in the center. The room was large enough for breathing space but it was small enough to not be so overwhelming in size. It was a suite perfect for a few girls to live in for the the rest of their life.
Cromella had to really think to realize that that room would be where she would live until she died. It was hard to believe where she stood was where she would be settling and comfortable in. At the moment, she felt like she was just visiting before returning home. But this was her room and it threw her off more than she was already feeling.
Trying to get herself together, Cromella threw herself on the bed, her body sinking into it’s increasingly soft mattress. She couldn’t stop smiling, slowly getting used to her surroundings and realizing this was for her. She lied there for a moment before sitting up and opening her little suitcase. Inside her suitcase she had packed a couple of shirts and jeans and her pajamas as well. Besides the little amount of clothes, she had, as well, packed her bathroom necessities and a couple of valuables she couldn’t leave home. This included things such as a porcelain teapot her grandmother gave her and some jewelry she had gathered in the past. She couldn’t forget the picture of her father in his Militia General uniform, standing tall with a folded Hechz flag under his crossed arms, standing in salute at the picture. Although he was coming home tomorrow, she still placed his picture by her bed.
Sighing, she gazed at the picture of her father, than looked up at the crown molding on the ceiling. It was gold and carved and it just added to the room even more than it already was. Mella felt chills of excitement, realizing this was a dream come true. Something she thought would never happen.
When there came a knock at the door, Mella was merely in a daze, not noticing it open. When the servant girl entered, Mella sat up, seeing the same meal on a silver platter. A dinner plate that wasn’t cried upon.
“Here you go, Lady Westwood.” She said, placing it on the table.
It threw Mella off to be called Lady Westwood, it sounded too adult for her. She nearly forgot that she was now an Ingostle and she was just called one by a servant girl. She shook her head in confusion.
“Can you just call me Mella please?”
“Well it’s impolite to call you by your first name. Would it be better for me to call you Lady Cromella.”
“That would be better, thank you.”
The servant girl gave Mella a smile.
“Very well, enjoy your dinner Lady Mella, I’ll help you in the morning for your make-up.”
The servant girl was about to leave, but Mella quickly stopped her.
“You never introduced yourself, what’s your name?” Mella asked, tapping her arm.
“Hellany.” She said before doing a small curtsy and walking out of her bedroom.
Mella’s roommates had not yet reached the bedroom yet, but she was alright with that, she wanted that time alone for a moment. She liked Hellany though, she was so comforting and loving, she appreciated her helping her all that day. The meal, after finally taking a bite, was wonderful. Without all of the pressure, she managed to eat it with satisfaction as the juicy meat and spices melted in her mouth. The salad on the side was wonderful with the yummy vinaigrette and strawberries. The dessert topped it all off. She didn’t quite fully know what kind of dessert it was, but it was chocolate and as she cut her fork into the soft cake, some form of golden-brown chocolate sauce spilled out. It was so wonderful she couldn’t eat it slowly, she finished it within minutes with a very full stomach.
She was going to have a shower but as she gazed at the bathtub, she longed for a long warm bath. Mella filled it up, noticing little buttons to turn on bubbles or massage and she wanted to try out all of them as she anxiously waited for the bathtub to finish filling up with water. Once it was filled up enough, she stepped into the soothingly warm tub, feeling the heat through her shivering skin. For a moment, she just relaxed in the still water, but then she tried the buttons experiencing the bubbles form into the water, then she tried the massage and felt like she could fall asleep as the pressure softly pounded on her back. She heaved a sigh, fully relaxed after a very intense day.
Outside of the door, she could hear her roommates entering, giggling and talking amongst each other as they walked in. Although the bathroom door was closed, Cromella could most definitely hear them, talking to each other about their day. A part of her wanted to meet them but the other part just wanted that moment of alone time instead of getting all of the attention. She decided to stay in the tub where she would be alone, knowing she’ll have to meet them eventually anyway.
But Cromella couldn’t stay in the tub forever. She finally got out after about twenty minutes to realize she forgot to fetch her pajamas. At first she didn’t know what else to do, for it was too hard to put back on her dress. Usually at home, if she forgot her clothes, she would wrap herself in a towel and rush to her bedroom hoping her mother wouldn’t see her running across the halls naked. Although, this time, it wasn’t just a quick, hide-yourself-to-fetch-your-clothes, for there was girls right outside of the door. Feeling awkward and unsure what else to do, Cromella was relieved to find three robes hanging by the door. One, she knew, was for her.
It was a black robe with the Ingostle Initials engraved in gold on the backside. Mella wrapped it around herself, tying the tie around her waist. Although she had never had a robe before, it was better than running around with a towel. Mella stepped out of the bathroom and the two roommates both turned to her in excitement. In embarrassment, Mella shrunk, but the girls didn’t seem to have any form of pity towards her.
“Well if we look it here, it’s our new Ingostle.” One said, a very tall slender woman with dark brown hair that was held in a very large bun on her head.
“Welcome Lady Westwood.” The other greeted, giving her a curtsy. This woman was shorter than the other and, although her waist was small, her hips made up for it, giving her a very obvious hour-glass shape.
“Um, do you mind if you just call me Lady Cromella?” Mella asked as she approached her suitcase to fetch her pajamas.
“If you say so, dear. Sometimes I don’t like to be called by my last name either, it seems like I’m twenty years older than I really am.” The curvy woman said, her speech very sing-song and high, “And I’m Lady Lin, in case you probably wanted to know that.”
“I’m Lady Rimalla, I am a part of the counsel of fifty so you will probably see me quite a lot outside of this room.” The tall slender one mentioned
“That’s very nice to meet you.” Mella said, about to take her clothes back into the bathroom, but Lady Lin quickly stopped her.
“Uh, there is sleepwear provided for you in your nightstand.”
Mella froze up, awkwardly looking over to where Lady Lin was pointing.
“Right.”
A part of her was just comfortable in sleeping in her own pajamas, but as she opened the top dresser drawer she noticed the pajamas and her mouth gaped open. It was a red and black silk nightgown. She almost didn’t like them as she pulled them out of the drawer, but they were so wonderful at the same time. She wasn’t used to such pajamas, she was expecting some super warm two piece pajama set, but instead she found herself looking at something that seemed like only celebrities would wear.
So she went into the bathroom and tried on the nightgown. It fit her very comfortably and it was nicely draped over her body. A pair of warm very soft slippers was slipped in the fold of the nightgown and they fell while she slipped the nightgown on. Mella slipped on the slippers and returned to the bedroom, her body comfortable in the luxury nightgown. Lady Lin was standing by her bed, brushing through her strawberry blond hair while she glanced at a long mirror, spotting Mella from it. Lady Rimalla was already on the couch reading the holy book of Shei, sitting comfortably on the couch with her pajamas already on.
“When did you get changed?” Mella asked.
“Just now. We’re all ladies here, Lady Cromella, it’s okay to change in front of each other.” Lady Rimalla laughed, looking up from her book.
Cromella wasn’t comfortable enough to do that. She was too subconscious on seeing two women she barely knew see her change. Then again, these ladies have lived with each other for so long they were probably used to it, but Mella would stay changing in the bathroom.
By Mella’s lamp lied her own personal Holy Book. The Shei was not large, being about three hundred pages long. Although, as she opened up to the first page, the first few lines of the first chapter brought her straight into it.
Chapter 1
Behold, there was a great woman who came upon the earth in robes of pure white silk linen.
Mella took a seat on her bed, swinging her legs over and continuing.
She walked the earth with no shoes or slippers, but in bare feet, walking the earth with a glow of her skin so perfect. The woman was given the name, Edda, meaning pure. While Edda walked, grass sprouted on the ground under her feet, flowers bloomed brightly before the face of the earth, blooming their vibrant colors to the blue sky. In all that she could see, trees popped from their hiding places and grew marvelous leaves; the ground rose to different heights creating mountains and hills, creating valleys and coves, canyons and bowls.
With the guidance of her finger, Edda created rivers and lakes, streams and waterfalls. For life, she brought birds and deer, fish and rabbits. Every animal that did not eat meat, she placed upon the Earth, giving them a perfect life in her perfect world. Edda walked the entire Earth, creating oceans and lands until she had created nature throughout the entire world. Her land was coming to a finish.
When the first man came to earth, Edda fell for the man, Adue. Their love created another son, Alamas. At first, the world was perfect, but when the first son of the first man and woman arrived, he created much tumult. With his wicked thoughts, Alamas tormented his family and created a great storm throughout the earth. Alamas created great beasts such as wolves and lions, bears and monsters. Every animal that caused fear throughout the land, scared away Edda’s creation of life. Edda’s animals fled from their homes in fright, great storms creating floods and destruction. Pieces of Edda’s wonderful world fell into drought or split away from the land. As the earth cracked under their feet, lands were separated and Edda was split away from Adue.
Before the land was split away, Edda gave birth to six more children of whom each represented each day Edda created the earth. The seventh day was going to represent Alamas, but because he was forbidden from the family, Edda named it the day of the sun before the sabbath. Three girls: Mondeil, Wendsora and Satura, and three boys: Teumei, Thurstrong and Frihyant.
The siblings created their own families, but they were forced away from each other, being separated into the different lands where they would never see each other again. The families grew to expand and populate the split lands where civilizations evolved. They made cities and countries, territories and villages and the world of Edda was civilized.
By the time Cromella had finished the first chapter, she tucked herself into her bed and felt herself already dozing to sleep. She had never been so comfortable in a bed until she lied in the luxury she could live in for the rest of her life.
That night, she slept the best she had ever slept.
Chapter 5- Ingostles and Generals
“Good Morning Ladies.” Hallany greeted as she brought in breakfast on a large tray.
She set the table for us, placing the plate of hotcakes and eggs on the surface of the table. The three of them thanked her and took a seat at the table, enjoying the hot cakes as they modestly poured the syrup over them. Lady Lin and Lady Rimalla both had so much etiquette, it made Mella feel very out of place. How they sat up so straight, how they elegantly cut and ate into the meal or how they even used their napkin. Mella ate it happily but she didn’t quite understand how they could keep such composure and still enjoy the meal. She would think she should enjoy the food and not be so stiff about eating. She knew it was just the transfer of her middle class life to a high class religious life, but it seemed odd to her at the moment. She tried to mimic them, trying to straighten her back as she struggled to gracefully stab the fork into the hotcake and make a somewhat attempt to take a graceful bite, but it didn’t seem to be working as well. They seemed too perfect to be even sitting at breakfast like that, but Mella just had to keep her negative thoughts to herself.
“So what do we do on Sundays?” Mella asked, tired of sitting in silence.
Dinner was usually a time of conversation at her home, she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to do it or not, but she had to try. Since she was new to the church, they would probably make an exception if she was doing things wrong.
“Well,” lady Lin started (apparently they could speak during meals), “every Sunday is generally the same, we prepare for Monday. Usually we walk the streets giving services to those locally to encourage them to come to our visits and we practice the prelude music. Sundays are usually our free days where we can go to the meeting hall for socializing and service crafts or personal study and journal time. Basically anything within the grounds.” Lady Lin said as she pulled up her medium length hair into a bun.
The other Lady had very long hair that fell down to her knees and as she pulled it up in a bun, she had to strain her hands to tighten the mass of hair into as small a bun possible.
“Well, Lady Amalla excused me to leave the grounds to see my father. I was just wondering when the time would be best to go visit him.”
“Your father?” Lady Rimalla asked
“I haven’t seen him for years.”
“Sounds like a good excuse to me.” Lady Lin added.
“Well, if you’re hoping to visit him, why don’t you leave this morning? That way, if you wanted to spend the rest of the day with him, you could. And if not, you could come back and enjoy the rest of the day here.”
Mella smiled,
“Maybe I’ll do that, then.”
Hellany returned about half an hour later to help with Mella. It took another half an hour for her to do her makeup and hair and by the time she was finished, both of her roommates were finished doing their own makeup. When Mella had the fresh makeup on her face and the dress and hat neatly placed on her body, she went downstairs and left the building. She felt refreshed and ready, but at the same time, she was still recovering from all that had happened throughout the last twenty-four hours.
She then walked towards the gates where they opened for her exit.
Cromella took a deep breath, knowing this was the breaking moment to see her father. She would see her father after so long and it made her heart thump out of her chest to know any minutes now, she’d be giving him a hug in her Ingostle dress happy to have him home. Excitement and anxiety reunited with her and doubts once again jumbled in her head.
What would her father think when he saw her as an Ingostle?
What would he react when he realizes that she won’t be there forever, that she’ll have to return back to the church and probably not see him for a long time?
Mella shook it off and kept walking, knowing those thoughts would only pull her back. She approached the door, the handle creaking as she turned it to open.
“Mom?” Mella asked, but her voice seemed loud in the silence.
When there came no response, she swung it wide to find the room dark. It was early, maybe she had arrived too early and he wasn’t even home yet and her mom was still in bed. Mella suddenly felt awkward and embarrassed once again unsure what else to do, she knew he would be coming in the morning, as long flights from Turme were usually early in the morning. Would she wait for him with her mom awkwardly lingering beside her or come back later? Her mother didn’t even specify when he was coming. It might not be until later that day.
She could almost hear her father's voice behind her, telling her to stay until he arrived, but it was still empty in the house. She looked behind her, hoping to see his presence as he approached the door, but she was alone.
But nobody was there.
So she decided to stay.
Mella fully entered her home and sat on the couch. Although this was her home and she hadn’t quite adjusted to her Ingostle home yet, she didn’t like to be inside knowing her mother was present. She recognized it as her home, but a part of her suddenly felt like she no longer belonged in there any more. Even if she had never left it since birth. It was odd to be sitting there, not sure whether she missed it or was neutral about it.
Sitting there allowed Mella to think for a moment, knowing she was alone for a moment. Then the thought of the coronation yesterday made her cringe. Yes, it was hard and difficult to face such a formal event with so much attention, but it wasn’t that that made her cringe.
It was the fact that her mother never came.
The last time she saw her was with that unpleasant farewell when her mother didn’t even manage to say good bye.
The room seemed to throw dark and stuffy as her mother entered the living room.
“Cromella, what- what are you doing here?” she asked, freezing as she noticed her daughter sitting at the couch.
Mella stood up, approaching her mother. Mrs. Westwood took a sip of her coffee in her hand, but her eyes remained glued to Mella’s.
“Mella-”
“When is dad coming?”
Her mother stopped in her tracks, just about to take another sip. She lowered the mug and looked at her as if she didn’t know, a look of both confusion and regret on her face.
“This morning, this afternoon, this evening? When mother, I’d like to see him.” Mella added.
“Well…” she started, avoiding Cromella’s eyes and placing the mug on the buffet table next to her.
Mella knew something was up and she was concerned it wasn’t something she wanted to hear. As her mother stood there so oblivious she knew what the trick was. The room seemed to grow darker, more stuffy. Like a dark cloud swooped into the room and it came directly from her mother. Mella’s heart seemed to break in two.
“He’s not coming is he?”
Her mother closed her eyes nodding, turning her head away from me.
“Mother…” Mella stumbled to say, her lip quivering to realize this heartbreaking moment.
Mella waited for her mother to answer, standing there trembling in disappointment and anger. Her mother deliberately lied to her and her hopes were so high that when she realized he wasn’t coming, everything crumbled inside her.
“I… only did it so you could cancel your coronation. I wasn’t ready for you to leave me... not now.”
“Mother. You lied to me. And even if I did follow through with canceling the coronation, it would have made matters worse than it already was.”
“W-well, I was hoping you would cancel it and when today would come, I would be disappointed to as to realize he wasn’t coming home and everything would be okay. You wouldn’t have ever thought I would have done it on purpose… that was my thoughts… anyway.”
Mella sat herself down, “will I ever get to see my father?”
Her mother guiltily sat next to Mella, her head dropped.
“Mella... there is something else I need to talk to you about.”
Mella could almost predict what her mother was going to say and it destroyed her inside. Her soul seemed to burn, like her mother took a match and lit it herself.
“Is he… dead?”
“No.” She started, bringing some form of hope back up, but her voice was still sorrowful, “but he is in high risk of being killed.” She lifted her head, looking Mella back in the eyes.
“Your father had been taken captive by the enemy some six months ago. I used the envelope they used to tell me the unfortunate news and placed the note I gave you yesterday.”
“So he could be dead, but… they don’t know?”
Her mother nodded and Mella felt like she would melt in sorrow.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?!” She whimpered.
“Because-”
“Is it because to you, you shouldn’t let your little girl know such an event?” Mella snapped, on the verge of angry amongst her sorrow.
“Because I didn’t have the strength to tell you!” She nearly screamed, trembling under her tears.
Her mother dug her face deep in her hands “I didn’t want to tell you that your father was dead or nearly dead. He has been in danger before, but this time, the unknowns are our enemy. Cromella, I want your father home as much as you do. I just... don’t know if he ever will.” She cried.
Mella sat there for a moment, looking at her crying mother and trying to sink in all that she just heard. So much mixed feelings, so much sorrow, so much unknowns. She couldn’t live not knowing whether her father was alive or dead and she knew something had to be acted upon it.
“Mom, we are just sitting here crying about it. We need to do something about it.”
“But what?” she screamed, “if he’s already dead he’s probably buried in a veteran graveyard listed as unknown because he was found in such a mess, they couldn’t even recognize him as their General. They could have hid the body and we would never know, so with all of this, we really should just assume he’s already dead. If he was alive how would we ever know that we can even get him?! They have probably tortured and locked him up in some secret facility probably never to see the light of day again. He’s gone, Mella, there is nothing we can do about it.”
Tears built up in Mella’s eyes, tears of anger and frustration. She couldn’t stay, she wanted to escape. She could escape. She had to leave and think things through, but hadn’t she enough of thinking? She wanted to act on it, find a resolution through all this grief.
Cromella got back up to her feet.
“I have to go, mother. Let me know if we hear of anything else of dad.”
The tears hadn’t quite dripped down her painted face yet, but it was hard to see with the flood of tears in her eyes. She nearly dragged her feet as she returned back to the church, trying to avoid eye contact with any Ingostles walking around. Lady Rimalla was just leaving with Lady Lin, invitations in their gloved hands.
“Hello, Lady Mella.” Lady Rimalla said in her alto voice.
Although they greeted very joyfully, they both noticed the upset look on her face.
“I’m guessing the meeting with your father did not work out?” Lady Lin asked
Mella didn’t want to talk, she was too upset but she didn’t want to ruin her paint again.
“He’s not coming.” She whispered, the choke heavy in her throat, she said it quickly and hurried away from them.
She didn’t want to answer any more and kept walking, fully entering the building. Lady Rimalla and Lady Lin both watched in concern, but they left her alone, knowing she didn’t want to talk. Several of the women passed her, tipping their heads or giving her a smile as they continued chatting or walking to their location. It was so graceful and wonderful to see them walking the grounds of the large church but it didn’t help with the situation Mella was going through. Her father wasn’t around, she didn’t even know if he was alive and this was all because her mother had kept a secret from her for so long and told her yet another lie of many.
The trust she had on her mother had decreased. Unless she does something to revive herself from the trust lost from her daughter, Cromella didn’t wish to see her again until her father was home. The more she thought about it, the more she didn’t regret the fact that she left her mother.
It was time. Cromella needed to get something off of her mind. She entered the meeting hall, seeing a small group of Ingostles conversing together, laughing and talking about their life and other church like conversations. When they saw Mella they stopped and looked up at her with a smile.
“Good morning, Lady Westwood, would you like to join us?” One asked in a very honey-sweet voice.
She looked at them, hurting even more as more thoughts of herself came to mind. Most were thin beautiful woman who probably had parents who appreciated their looks and wanted them to join the church, who had fathers who were home and proud of them. They hadn’t gone through self-doubt and parents who lied to them basically their entire life. Nothing was more worse than her own mother telling her that she was too ugly to leave her sight.
It was her mother, she listened to her, yet this time, she took her own path.
She realized she should have ignored her from the start.
“No thank you.” She said bluntly, rushing up the stairs to the third floor.
Mella returned to her room, looking out the window to see some of the part time servants working away in the yard. That’s who she wanted to talk to, she wanted to talk to Hellany. So far, for the little amount of time she had met her, Mella had found Hellany an only friend she could talk to at the moment, even if she didn’t completely know who she was yet.
Cromella wasn’t exactly sure of the layout, but she assumed the full-time servant would be somewhere doing a more full-time job. Mella walked the halls, her body appreciating the walk instead of whimpering in her bedroom. So far, there was no sight of Hellany, but she could narrow it down to certain places she would probably be. She knew she wouldn’t be in the kitchens or doing yard work, so it would have to be inside in one of the rooms. Mella came down to the main floor, checking the halls and listening in for the distinct honey-sweet voice of the servant.
There were plenty of women walking around that she could ask, but her gut refused to speak out and stop them. She had never been a socializing girl and having to stop someone to even ask for directions was overwhelming. Although, either way, she needed to find Hellany.
She continued wandering the halls, searching through open rooms and checking places she thought she might be.
“Who are you looking for?” A familiar voice asked from behind, Mella turned around grateful to see the servant girl.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Hellany approached closer.
“What can I help you with then?” Hellany looked around at her face and a corner of her lip lifted, “were you crying again?”
It must have smeared part of her makeup because she wouldn’t have known how else she would have known that. But because she mentioned crying, the long hours of holding in her tears finally came bursting out.
“Oh Lady Mella,” Hellany cried, gently grabbing her shoulders and guiding her to a bench in the hallway.
Mella didn’t want anyone else to see her crying again. It was already humiliating to cry in front of all them on a night special for her, to have them see a fat girl crying because she had too much in her brain to function correctly. Luckily, the hallway she had turned was down to what looked like a less populated hallway that led to the servants wing.
“Is it still because of what happened yesterday? Talk to me dear.” Hellany said, her gentle hand on Mella’s back.
“I just- I just… there are a lot of things in my head and I… I don’t know what to do.” Mella cried.
A servant girl walked down the hall, looking at Mella with concern and curiosity, stalling to see what was going on, but Hellany seemed to give her a sort of glare. The servant girl continued walking, glancing behind her before disappearing into the wing.
“Here, let’s go somewhere a bit more private.” Hellany said, guiding Mella off the bench.
She took her down the hall and into the servant wing. Mella didn’t care about the lack of elegance in the wing. Although the servant girls were given just as much respect, taking care of their own quarters wasn’t as big of a deal as the rest of the church rooms. They were given good furniture and a nice kitchen of their own, but the tidiness was a bit on the messy side. Hellany led Cromella up an ordinary staircase, taking her down a cramped hallway filled with the servant bedrooms. For a full time servant, there was only about twenty of them and Hellany only shared a room with one.
“My roommate is in the kitchens fixing lunch so we can be in there.”
The room was small but it also was roomy. Her bed was against the window on the other side of the room, her small dresser beside it with her things neatly placed by her lamp. Although the wing itself was a bit untidy, Hellany herself kept her part of the room clean. They sat on Hellany’s bed and Mella continued to sob. Once again, Hellany had grabbed another rag to wipe off her dripping paint and then allowed Mella to talk to her.
“We’re more private now, what’s wrong? What’s all the trouble? You’ve only been here for less than twelve hours and you’re already crying your dear heart out.”
“I just…” Mella sniffed, blowing her nose, “I went back today. To my house. I got permission because my dad was supposed to come home from the military today.”
“Military? Where was he fighting?” Hellany asked.
“In Rumbeig. He was a general and I guess he lost his arm and he was supposed to come home today.”
“Where did you find this out? This morning?”
“No, yesterday. My mom showed it to me just before I left. Because of that, I almost wanted to cancel the coronation to see him, but I knew Lady Amalla would let me see him today. So that’s what I did, but… that wasn’t what my mom was planning.”
“Your mom? How so?”
“She never wanted me to go in the first place, but I’m old enough to make my own decisions so I took the chance. She still thinks me as her little girl, but that was so long ago that I was a little girl. Well… she faked the letter. My father really wasn’t coming home, she only did it to get me to cancel the coronation. But because I didn’t, when I came today, it only made matters worse.”
“So you never got the chance to see your father?” Hellany asked, concern growing more on her face.
“It was more than that. He-” Mella broke into more tears, to the point she couldn’t speak for a long time as she bawled in her hands.
Hellany waited patiently, rubbing her back as she struggled to breathe in the tears bursting out of her. Finally, she managed to take a deep breath and turn back to the servant girl.
“He was taken by General Khyro, they took my dad and we have no idea if he’s alive or dead.”
Hellany covered her mouth, “that’s horrible. How long has your mother known?!?”
Mella hiccuped, “six months.”
“Oh, Mella. I bet that has been so hard for you.”
“If only I could do something about it, find out if he’s okay or if he’s… dead. I want to know, I’d rather know then live my life in the unknowns.”
“I’m sure they’ve been looking hard for your father, he is a general.”
“I know but it’s been six months!”
Mella and Hellany talked for a long time. Although it was hard, it made Mella feel better that she could let out all of her thoughts. These were thoughts she couldn’t tell her mom and she didn’t know who else to talk to, if it wouldn’t have been for Hellany, she would have still been more miserable than she already was. It made her grateful that a young woman such as Hellany showed up in her life. She realized she wouldn’t have ever met Hellany had she not joined in the first place.
After several minutes of talking, Mella just cried on Hellany’s shoulder. She felt relieved to let it out, after talking to someone, she felt like she could move one with some of her thoughts and find ways to be happy.
“Thank you.” Mella cried under her breath as Hellany comforted her.
That was all she needed.
Chapter 6- A New Life
It had been three weeks since the coronation and Mella was still adjusting to the culture and environment. She had become closer to not only Hellany but her roommates, Lady Lin and Lady Rimana. They had been great to her. Although the thoughts of her father still lingered heavily in her mind, she kept away from showing it. The last time she had cried was that first Sunday with Hellany and she didn’t want to experience another miserable day again, even with her hardships.
As for appearance, that still held tight inside her. Mella refused to look at herself for a long time in mirrors in fear of growing sick in her size. The struggle in not comparing herself to the elegant slender women walking the halls was increasingly difficult but she continued to keep holding on. A part of her would grow doubts that her mother was right about not fitting in, but the other side held in trying to tell her that she was a woman who was supposed to be there. It had worked out, if it was meant to be, it was meant to be at the right place at the right time.
It was Monday, a day where the sessions would begin. Mella found herself standing in the high balcony wrapping around the tall walls of the chapel, trying to stand tall with the other women up there. She never enjoyed heights, but she remembered from the door some weeks ago admiring how cool they looked up there. Now she was the one standing up in the balcony, lined up with about 100 more women, gazing down from above. Soon, they would work on the song they had practiced just the day before and sing it out to the streets to welcome in newcomers and followers.
It was something Mella had only done just three times and every time had been amazing and wonderful. Over the last few weeks, they had taught her etiquette and posture as part of the church, but she struggled with her slouching problem and her middle-class etiquette. She felt important standing up on that balcony, standing between others. Although, she still hadn’t admitted to being an Ingostle. Outside, she was, she wore the dress, she followed their standards, she seemed fully committed. But mentally, she struggled to admit she belonged in such a high class religion with high expectations of an immaculate Ingostle.
The chorister, a woman who seemed to have no hips or waist, stood facing the Ingostles behind the podium. She held her baton, and all of the women took in a deep breath. Bringing chills into the chapel, they sung out singing Edda the Glory, the perfect harmony of two hundred women ringing through the entire building and out to the streets. Within minutes, followers started to come in, walking in with their mouths gaping open as they saw all of the Ingostles singing their hearts out to the world.
Mella enjoyed the view of seeing it on the other side. For so long, she was just that outsider who watched from the door to admire the music, but now she was the singer. She was never a good singer, but the way they all sang made Mella want to sing as beautifully as she possibly could. Her voice came out slightly off and scratchy, but it was the best she could do and out of dozens of singers, her off tone barely reached the listeners ears.
They kept singing for several minutes until the chapel was filled with people, women of all ages excited for church. Most every Monday was always filled with people from front to back, very little was there an empty seat. As the Ingostles stopped their glorious singing, Lady Amalla, as always, started and stepped up to the podium. As she said her weekly speech, the entire congregation sang: Seven Days of Hope and brought more joy to the city as not just the Ingostles sang, but a hundred more followers to add to it.
Once the song was over, Lady Amalla approached the stand, gleaming to the followers in the congregation.
“I’d just like to tell you ladies that you are all appreciated. There are people out there who loves you and cares for you and although I may not know you that well or I may know you just as much as I know myself, I love you as well.” Lady Amalla began with a giant gleam on her gorgeous face.
“Anything you do puts an impact on someone in the world, even if you think whatever you did was terrible, something out there happened that made someone else have a wonderful day. Let me tell you a story to explain. I once knew a girl that was having a terrible day, she wasn’t sure what it was. She just simply woke up feeling absolutely awful and nothing could tell her why. While she walked to school, she bumped into a boy walking around the corner. He toppled over and scratched his hand as he caught himself on the sidewalk. She felt so bad and wanted to help, but he only cried and ran off back home. After that she knew for sure her day would be terrible. And it did go more terrible. One after another, like a chain of events, things happened to make her day get worse and worse until finally, she came home and cried. What she didn’t realize was that boy she had ran into, he was going to get bullied that day. They were waiting for him outside of school and was going to beat him up as soon as he arrived, but because he didn’t come, they weren’t able to do so. Although the boy scraped his hand, it was better than a broken body.
“I just wanted you ladies to understand that there are tender mercies that happen every day. You might not realize it and you may never, but just know, you may have impacted someone that day as you walked the streets to work.Things happen for a reason, and I strongly believe that whatever you do, it may impact someone somewhere somehow in this world in miraculous ways.
“Like that boy in the street, she had no idea that running into him prevented him from being bullied. Things can be more stretched than that. The reason that girl was so upset was because she had to stay up late with her sister helping her with homework. So, in the other hand, it was also the sister who prevented that boy from getting bullied because she stayed up late with the girl and it made her grumpy, thus hurting the boy and keeping him from being bullied. Ladies, everything happens for a reason, it doesn’t matter what. Hold strong, everything will work out no matter how terrible it is. You impact others. If we change our mindsets to realize this, our perspectives on unfortunate situations may change for the better good for all of us. I love you Ladies. We will now sing: How Great of Service us Ladies Bring and will have a speech by Lady Reed.”
Lady Amalla walked off, and all the women broke out in more singing. Cromella had nearly memorized all of the songs after singing so many nearly every day. A few of the Ingostles spoke, most were ones of the fifty sitting behind the podium, speaking of inspirational moments to make the women within the Ingostles and congregation feel wonderful. It helped to inspire Mella, considering finding good things in negative situations such as the common subject among all of the speakers.
Then before she knew it, it was over and the congregation left.
Once the congregation left, Cromella and all of the women closed their eyes and Lady Amalla prayed to Edda. Then they read a chapter of the Shei together, reading in unison as, in their heads, they pondered of what was being said. After reading a well written chapter of the Shei, Mella followed the others down to the food court where they had a lunch. Monday was the day or rest to the Ingostles. They usually stayed together meditating or reading together. After eating the wonderful meal, Mella went outside, joining the Ingostles in a mediation session in the field of grass in the back. They sat with their legs tucked under them and their hands placed gently on their laps, breathing in patterns and according to the instructor's directions. Mella wasn’t overly comfortable sitting in a way such as that, but she joined in anyway, feeling a little better that they would have their eyes closed for the majority of it.
It felt nice to her to get to breathe and think. When they told her to imagine a heaven to her and place her into that scene, all she could think about was the church. She merely visioned herself standing in front of the church house on her first day with excitement instead of fear and anxiety. She wished she could revive that moment, when she could start over and reach her dream with a smile on her face and being so overjoyed she couldn’t breathe. Instead of having to walk into the church with so much stress and worry on her shoulders that once she became an Ingostle, she just cried and ruined her dinner and went to bed to continue to weep. This time, she tried to imagine walking in with the shawl over her body in her dress and make-up and approaching the Empress with no nervous butterflies in her stomach. She tried to imagine sitting at the celebration dinner enjoying her first meal there with no care of all of the Ingostles watching her before they had permission to eat themselves. All of those wonderful hopes that would never happen.
Because it had already happened.
Mella continued to breathe in the pattern they had told her. ’Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth’. She felt relaxed, forgetting about the troubles she had with her father and her constant beating of what she thought of herself. She would think that after all of the wonderful lessons that she heard, she would learn to appreciate herself, but it still lingered hard in her head and she felt it would never leave her. She needed more than just inspirational words from a speaker talking to the entire church instead of personally. She felt it would bother her forever, the fact that she was different than the others. She felt that everything would go perfect as soon as she joined, but as she sat there, meditating, she realized there needed to be a better alternative. She needed to act on it, but how? She continued to think it through, still feeling at peace, but a little bug in her head seemed to tingle inside as if it wanted to come back.
The session was nice and Mella felt like a daze after it was over. She walked fully relaxed with a feeling of joy and peace, the thoughts of her doubts temporarily inactive. She hoped it would stay forever, but she knew it was only going to be temporary as she would get back into her other daily activities.
The rest of the day was wonderful, taking the day to relax was something Mella did after her weeks work of services and busy schedule. Throughout the week, she had taken service to different local towns and while in the church, she worked on charity crafts and studying the Shei. Between all of the busy service hours she did, they had provided classes teaching about the gospel, etiquette, singing, dancing and other things to learn throughout the day. She was never into dancing, but she would usually sit in there watching the Ingostles, dressed in dance wear, gracefully dancing around the room with a smile on their faces.
As night came, Cromella settled in her comfortable bed, ready for the next day. She finally was able to feel some form of comfort, but her mind was starting to return back to its doubts. Although they kept her busy, Mella enjoyed it, it prevented her from getting too far into her thoughts.
Although, even with the stress released from her that day with meditation and wonderful lessons, she slept hard with a dream she hated.
Explosions and fire, people shot their rifles at other people. Although Mella saw no crippled bodies, she could almost see them in the fire. It seemed she was gazing from above and her first thought was to search for her father. Then she was running on the ground, calling for her father's name. She approached several men, asking where he was but they all shrugged, not knowing.
He was nowhere to be found.
Mella kept looking, getting away from the fire and explosion to get stopped by a Khyro. His uniform, a deep maroon and a large black sash over it blocked her view from seeing past his massive body. He raised his chest, his hands in deep fists as he glared down at her. She had never encountered a Khryo before, but she knew exactly what they looked like and they were terrifying. They were savages, they seemed to kill for more than land, they killed for revenge, lust and greed.
“Where is my father!”
“Aren’t you a bit old for looking for your father?” He sneered.
“If you don’t know whether your dad is dead or alive, or course you would go find him?! So no, I’m never too old to go looking for a missing father.”
“Let me guess, he’s a general that we took.” He said with clenched teeth.
Mella fell to her knees, pleading with tears in her eyes.
“Please, where is my father?!”
Once she begged, she was found in deep regret for wanting to see him. For the soldier turned his body so she could see behind him and sunk. There was her father against the wall, blood covering his dead body with a sword through him like a shish kabob. Mella wanted to puke, to run away and cry and scream until her throat rung dry. She felt sick, her stomach lurching as if wanting to puke. Although it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like one.
She could barely recognize her father, but she knew it was him.
She woke up in a cold sweat, catching her breath. She saw something that would forever be glued in her head. A gory version of her father and it felt like she had stabbed herself with a staff such as what she saw inside her father. Still trying to catch her breath, Mella got up to her feet and went for a walk in her nightgown. She walked outside, walking in the gardens back there, not caring whether she was going to get her slippers dirty or run into something in the dark. She didn’t even bother grab a flashlight, she just wanted to walk without further thinking about anything except her father.
She didn’t know what time it was, but she didn’t care. Trying to get it out of her head, Mella tried to imagine singing in the chapel on Mondays or making quilts for the hospital, but the image just kept coming back. When it kept coming back, she tried singing the music, trying to imagine her singing while doing it, but her thoughts still was on her father.
Then the walk seemed to not help. When she realized why she was walking, that image kept returning to her face in such a horrific way, it hurt her more. She returned back to her bedroom, her cream slippers dark in the rich soil outside. She pushed them under the bed, hoping her roommates wouldn’t notice she had gone outside in the middle of the night and threw herself on the bed. As she did so, the bed felt as hard as a rock.
Her thoughts started to move on to memories of her father.
She remembered, as a little girl, bringing flowers to him while he grilled the stake for the dinner that night. Mella was very petite for her age and as she approached him, she would stand on her tiptoes to place the bouquet of flowers on the ledge of the grill. Her father would grin, and peer down at Mella. Then he would stop for a moment and grab the flowers, squatting down to his daughter's eye level.
To look at those beautiful eyes, he would still be smiling, but would be plucking the petals of the flowers.
“What are you doing to the flowers?” Mella had asked in concern.
“I’m going to create something else for you.” He responded, placing the assortment of colorful petals across the porch.
The little Cromella would sit down, watching her dad as he organized the petals and created a design on the ground. He would form it into a heart, spelling Izzy in the center. That was something Mella loved about her father, he never called her Cromella or even Mella, he called her Izzy. Izzy was her middle name, but when she was born, her mother liked Cromella and he liked Izzy, but because they stuck to Mella as first name, he had called Mella Izzy her entire life.
Although, it was only him. Everyone called her Mella and she liked it, but when she heard the name; Izzy, she got thinking of her father.
“Flowers are very pretty, Izzy, but nature can create other beauty and so I made something that is personally to you. It even has your name on it.”
Mella would grin, touching the design he had made on the ground.
“Heil, someone from the militia is here!” Her mother would call from the door.
“I’ll be back in a moment, Izzy.”
Her father left, entering the house. Mella waited outside, but she could hear sounds and conversation. After several minutes, she still waited, the conversation turning into a panic as voices raised and sped up, then she heard a door slam and all went silent.
Her mother rushed out to the back porch in tears, approaching Mella so oblivious of the situation.
“Where’s dad? What happened?”
Her mother shook her head.
“They need him, there was a war broken out in Lawei.”
“So daddy left?”
Her mother shoved her crying face in her hands. The young mella looked at her mother, still trying to understand exactly what happened.
While dinner burned on the grill, Mella and her mother cried on the porch.
That was the last time Mella saw him. When he left her for war. He would later fight in Lawei and transfer to Rumbeig where they would fight a large battle that would last throughout the several years of Mella’s childhood. Although, the war remained in the country of Rumbeig, it spread rapidly and towns were being taken over as war was fought and buildings were destroyed. Rumbeig was once a peaceful country in grassland and pleasant towns, but then it turned into battleground with refugee towns.
That was where her father was taken.
When he fought in Rumbeig.
The next day she felt increasingly tired, but she kept the fact of her dream away from what showed on her face. She continued her daily morning routine, breakfast with her roommates, than read the Shei and get ready. By the time this routine was finished, it was already dinner. As she came down the stairs, she checked the bulletin on the second floor to know what she would be doing that day. She had made a habit to check it before setting down for lunch. The Calendar was all but the same, but she was okay with it, she enjoyed it all the better as long as it got it off her mind.
Although, there was something pinned next to the calendar. The paper was small and a bit boring, only the simple black print on it, but something caught her attention on it.
Service Project in Polei, need fifteen Ingostles for two weeks. If interested, please speak to your Empress.
It sounded like a note that went to more than just that single Ingostle church. For wanting fifteen, Mella knew she had to immediately talk to her. What excited her the most was to see that it was in Polei, a small town just inside Rumbeig. Where her father fought before he was taken. Mella didn’t know what to say, this was her opportunity to find him, to find out what happened to him. She bit her lip, she needed to go to this. She scurried down the stairs, knowing the Empress was already seated in her chair at the head table. She seemed so far away, sitting there enjoying herself as she smiled and spoke to her counselors.
She knew it was the wrong time to speak to her at that exact moment, but she was itching to anyway. She needed to speak to her after breakfast. Once the meal was placed in front of Mella, all she could do was tell Lady Amalla all about it before it was too late and they had already gathered fifteen Ingostles. Although Lady Amalla took her time eating, the anxiety of wanting to tell her caused Mella to inhale her food.
“Mella, manners.” Lady Lin said almost teasingly as she gracefully took a bite of her breakfast.
“Sorry, I just- I need to talk to Lady Amalla.”
“She’s not even done with her meal though.” Lady Rimana added.
“I know that, but-” Mella stood up, “I want to talk to her now.”
Lady Rimana grabbed her arm, “just give her a moment, at least let your food settle.”
“Besides, what is so exciting to talk to Lady Amalla so hurriedly?” Lady Lin asked, taking a bite from her poached egg.
“Well, you see that’s the thing. There’s a service project that is only available for just fifteen Ingostles and I need to-” Lady Amalla took her last bite and Mella shot up again, “she’s done, I got to go speak to her.”
“Let her stomach settle too, dear.” Lady Lin said, trying to pull Mella back down in her chair.
“Maybe finish what you were going to say and then you can go… talk to her.” Lady Rimana said.
“Alright, well, I need to do this service project. It’s urgent, I don’t want to miss it and so I have to talk to her right now!”
Once again, Mella shot out and this time walked off before her roommates could catch her. She walked towards the head table and Lady Amalla saw her coming. She stood up, gently patting her lips to prevent too much lipstick coming off and greeted her with that smile she didn’t seem to lose on her face.
“What is it dear?” Lady Amalla asked, walking around the table to approach Mella.
“Lady Amalla, I am very interested in this trip to Polei and I really want to go to it.”
“Didn’t you just arrive, dear, what a few weeks ago? Shouldn’t you have a little more time to adjust before doing such a major service project in a different country?” She asked.
“Well, that’s another thing I need to talk to you about. It’s about my father.”
“Your father? I thought he was-”
Mella knew she hadn’t spoken to Lady Amalla since her coronation, so it was time to explain a bit of what she was thinking.
“No, he didn’t come home, he’s still in… Rumbeig. This service project will allow me to see him.”
“Sounds reasonable. You sure you can handle such a trip though? I’m sure they would have ones in the future you can go to to see your father later. You are just so new in this church, we can’t have you going off from us at such a short notice with such little experience.”
“But I can’t wait.” Mella said, antsy at the fact of waiting any longer to find out, she didn’t want to tell Lady Amalla that he was taken and might even be dead.
Lady Amalla looked at her in thought, trying to see if she should really let Mella go.
“Would this trip mean that much to you? It will be two weeks away from here with women you may have never met before. If you feel homesick in any way or out of place, you would have to wait until the trip is over two weeks from then.”
“Yes, yes, yes. All I want to do is see my father.”
Lady Amalla picked up Mella’s hand and patted it.
“Very well then, come with me to my office, I have a packet with the full information. They’ll be leaving in about a month. I can let them know now, but you’ll have to be certain that you really want to be part of such a trip.”
Mella shook her head.
“It would be Castles in the Air to go there and find-… see my father.”
“It won’t be easy to find him either, dear. He’s a general, he’ll probably be in the battlefield fighting.”
“I’ll find ways, I just want to at least see him.”
Cromella followed Lady Amalla to her office. The packet was just on her desk tucked away neatly in a spot probably going to be thrown away later.
“I didn’t think anyone would want to go on such a trip, but if you want to, I will not argue any more, just as long as you know this will not be a little trip just to do a service project, especially when you want to find your father between all of it.”
“What is the service project?”
“That’s another part that is fairly large. The service project is helping the people of Polei. Being so close to the battlefield, the army has nearly stripped them of their food for rations and water and they need some help. There are other groups coming to help them move to another city away from the battlefield, you and the fourteen others will provide the necessities to move to another village or city. It’s a very large service project that will take a lot of time and effort, we have never done such a large service project before, so it will be very large for you. I fear it might be overwhelming being so new.”
“I can handle it.” Mella said confidently.
Lady Amalla sighed and her eyes grew dark and serious. She thought she was serious before, but this was a look nearly terrified Mella.
“Mella, I worry about you. I saw what happened at the coronation, I hate to admit this, but I hear anything and everything. I know what happened back at your house. You didn’t get along with your mother and your father never came. I’m sure that has been so hard for you and my Ladies have tried their best to make you feel at home. You are a wonderful woman, Lady Mella, this project is for those highly experience and mentally stable. I fear you need a little more time before you can reach the standards for such a trip. You are a beautiful daughter of Edda, but none of us want to see you unhappy. I understand you wanted to see your father, but how us Ingostles will greatly miss you.
“This trip is not just some fun in games service project. Please understand. Your father, I’m sure, is a wonderful man, but it doesn’t mean you should put yourself in danger just to see him. I am against of what you are wanting to do, but whatever you choose, I will respect you and you will do as your heart tells you. I don’t want you to go, but in your will. You may. But...It. Will. Be. Dangerous.” She whispered
Mella didn’t respond, she felt chills and she could feel herself reconsidering her thoughts. She knew what she was getting herself into. She knew it may get her into desperate danger, but all she wanted was to see her father, even if it was to find his grave. That was not what she hoped, but she wanted to know what happened to him and she would do whatever the cost. She was a father's daughter and finding him would relieve her of her mental instability.
“I know.” Mella responded just as firmly, looking up at the Empress.
Lady Amalla reached over to hand her the packet, but quickly pulled it away from Mella before she could hold it in her own hands.
“You sure you are up this?”
“Yes... I want no other way.”
The packet was placed in her hands.
“I applaud you for doing such a daring service project, but it does worry me, Lady Westwood. I know you have so much doubts and an unbalanced life and I don’t think this will much help you, but I will do whatever you choose is right. If you don’t feel good about, please, Edda is trying to tell you to not go. Personally, I would hate for you to leave me, but if it is right for you, if Edda is telling you it’s alright, then go. Find your father, help the people. I suggest praying about it, ask Edda what is right and if you get the affirmative answer, then return to me and I will put you in on the list of fifteen.”
“I’m guessing it’s only fifteen because it’s such a dangerous project?”
“It’s small because most churches won’t even allow their Ingostles to leave for this. I put it up because if someone had the inquiry to go for this, they have an opportunity, but it didn’t mean I highly encouraged it. I just put whatever opportunities on the board.”
“I think it’s meant to be, Lady Amalla, this has been my dream to be an Ingostle and I feel this will help me strive to be a stronger one. The thoughts of my father has not left my thoughts and when I found that opportunity, it was Edda telling me what was right. Just like the Ingosltes at the Halmonacs, it was meant to be. I will see my father and I will not bring you down, Lady Amalla. I will bring you hope and happiness that I lack and I will bring you the light of Edda in my eyes. I want to see him or I may never see him again.”
Lady Amalla nodded, admiring her faith, but heaved a concerned sigh.
“Very well. I love you dear, but please pray about it and tell me as soon as possible what Edda told you.”
“I will, thank you, Lady Amalla.”
Mella left her office, nearly running back up the stairs. She knew what was right, she didn’t want to pray about it, but she knew she had to follow the Empress's orders, so she came to her room and fell to her knees.
“Dear eldest Lady Edda, I have so many things in my mind and one is I have to see my father, but in order to do that, I have to do this service project, please, Edda, let me know if this is right. This is all I want and I need to do this…”
Chapter 7- Polei
She was ready for it. It was going to be hard and her roommates tried whatever they could to persuade her not to go. But nothing was going to stop her except herself. The month before leaving was unnerving, she wanted to go now but there was still two weeks left.
Then it came the day.
Once again, her little suitcase was packed and this time she would use her original pajamas. She would stay in hey Ingostle dress the entire two weeks so she packed the extra dresses and other wear and had it neatly organized in her suitcase. She had to understand where she was going, there was poverty and what they have is very little, she would have to find herself in, once again, another new environment.
“Cromella, I know it’s too late to tell you now, so I’ll tell you this. I bid you the best of luck and safety.” Hellany said as she entered Mella's room to take her bag, “I wish I can come with you and help you, but because I can't, I believe the others will take care of you and Edda will guide you to your father. I love you, Mella, but you have to come home safe, alright? Please, come home safe.”
“Yes, I understand, Hellany, thank you.”
All of the Ingostles were out to say good bye, tears and smiles of her daring journey on their faces. They stood in a line leading to the front door where her ride was waiting. Each one bowed, whispering good luck as she came down the stairs and to the door. The man in the car, being prohibited to enter came over to the suitcase placed in front of the door and took it to the car. Hellany turned to Cromella and gave her a warm hug, but Mella didn't notice what was in her hand until she released her. Hellany placed it in Mella’s hand, curling her fingers around it. Mella couldn’t quite predict what it was, but Hellany did it in a way that the other Ingostles could not see it.
“Since I know what is out there, this is for safety and good luck. Lots of love, Lady Mella.”
Still clenching whatever was placed in her hand, Mella stepped out, the Ingostles waving goodbye as she entered the back seat of the cab.
Hellany cried when Mella watched her get further away, wiping her tears from her make-up less beautiful face. She wanted to cry too, but Mella directed herself to have the strength not to and decided to turn back around and look straight ahead.
As the car drove further and further from what she now called her home, Mella uncurled her fingers, gazing down at what Hellany just gave her. She bit her lip, seeing something so small and deadly, just tiny enough to hide in the palm of a hand. Out of all things, what Hellany had given her something she would never expect from such a girl.
For in Mella’s hands, Hellany had given her a knife.
As the cab drove her to the airport where she was to meet the other fourteen Ingostles, she suddenly started to regret leaving. She was brand new to the church and here she was already going on something a Ingostle would wait years to go on.
She suddenly felt sick, realizing what she was getting into. She knew her father was out there, but how idiotic was she thinking to go searching in an enemy camp for him?
She held back the tears, trying not to let the cab driver know she was upset, but it was a little too late.
“This is quite a venture for you huh?” He asked, glancing at her through his mirror.
“I don't think I’m ready for it yet.” Mella managed to say without bursting into tears.
“Well, I believe you will have a wonderful time. Helping that village in the time of war is hard, it’s quite a treat to do such thing. I’m sure glad our country of West Amorco is at peace while we have it.”
“Well, it’s more than just that. I’m new to this church, I haven’t even gotten enough time to fully adjust to the culture.” Then, while she spoke, she started to realize something else, “and I didn’t even tell my mom I was leaving for this.” She whispered not exactly wanting the cab driver to know what she just said.
“I’m sorry, that’s unfortunate. I wish I can help you, but I’m nothing much but a cab driver who’s just taking you in the airport. You got to appreciate the support this country has on other countries though. The help of our military for example or you, even, leaving to help an entire town stranded in the middle of Battlegrounds. So brave of you to do such an act. I think you should deserve a medal of honor when you come home.”
“An Ingostles Medal of honor is the good thought of helping others.” Mella said, grateful to have someone to talk to.
As they spoke, Mella reached underneath her dress and slipped the knife into her girdle. Luckily, it was in its sheath, but it was so small, it fit perfectly into it. If anyone ever saw her girdle, they wouldn’t see the dagger tucked inside.
The drive was long and Mella sat there silently relishing into her doubtful thoughts. She was grateful when the cab driver dropped her off, stopping at the airport where she would finally continue her journey towards Polei.
She thanked him, picking up her little suitcase and stepping into the airport. She had never been on a plane before, she traveled, but never out of her country. It was always car trips, not a plane trip. The security was a bit overwhelming and she had to go alone as she was going to meet them inside. As she stood in security, they took her back and felt her, patting her sides and arms, making sure she was not armed. She felt increasingly subconscious with all the touching and she hated when the guards started opening up her suitcase and rummaging through to make sure everything was safe inside. Then they let her go, Mella grateful they hadn’t seen the knife tucked in her girdle.
Looking around, she could feel the confusion going alone in such a massive building with so many people, however, it helped her to know she had people to look for.
She hoped the red dresses would give a dead giveaway to where they were.
“Lady Westwood!!” someone called from within the crowd.
She lifted herself on her tippy toes to see over so many tall heads but she still couldn’t see the fourteen red dresses.
“Lady Westwood, we have been looking all over for you.” The voice said again.
Mella looked behind her, finally seeing a woman in a crimson red dress. Her obvious length of dress showing she was an Empress and probably the leader of the project, her gleam on the face seemed very similar to the smile she had seen on Lady Amalla’s.
“I’m Lady Lidiac. The others are already approaching in the terminal just before boarding. Come on Lady Westwood, we’ve got a plane to catch.”
Lady Lidiac already had the ticket for her. Mella appreciated the service of the Ingostle and followed her down the large hallway in the airport. They found the terminal, the open room small with just a few nit picky chairs for the few riding the plane.
They boarded the plane in about fifteen minutes.The
plane was small and Mella felt slightly claustrophobic, but she took a deep breath and took a seat with the Ingostles. The plane only held the Ingostles, nobody else would fit in.
Next to her, a short extremely thin Ingostle sat next to her, keeping to herself. Mella could tell the woman was very shy, crumbling up in her own seat as if noone else was around. Mella wanted to talk to her, but she was left quietly gazing out the window.
It took a few hours before the plane landed, landing in a small airport in the city of Gragestire. Three jeeps were waiting for them, each carrying a trailer of food and possessions for the people in Polei.
“We going straight there?” Mella asked.
“I apologize Lady Westwood, I had some time to explain the plan to the others, but with your long travels, you must have missed it. As a quick plan before we enter the jeeps, we hope to arrive at Polei tonight. The people will be waiting for us, so we will deliver the food and necessities and get settled for the night. The following day we will have a few hours to adjust and look around, then we will get straight to work where we will help as much as we can. That is our tentative plan for the next two weeks. It has been difficult because for some reason, the town got stuck in the middle of the battle grounds and any vehicle that drives from Polei or to Polei is a danger. That is why we are taking only these three bullet proof jeeps to them. From there, we will slowly transport groups of the people with the jeeps to Gragestire where they will be safe.” Lady Lidiac explained.
“So you’re saying that it’s dangerous even driving there?”
“Keep a good lookout and if it does happen, cover your head. So yes, very dangerous. I am sure your Empress warned you of such dangers this service is. Although this will help hundreds of people, it may be risking our own lives. Please, I don’t want any of you lovely ladies to leave me, we must stay together and keep with our objective. Edda will protect us and if we’re meant to be alive for our journey home, she will allow it to. We are blessed ladies, I planned this knowing it was going to be hard and I was hoping to get those who are willing to risk their lives to save an entire town. Please, always be on your feet and willing to do anything, this is a major service project that you may never forget. There probably isn’t any larger one. So please, stay together and if we have to separate for events, always have a partner. This is not an elementary field trip, this is between life and death. You all understand?” At first, it was just to Mella, but it evolved to the rest of them as they all seemed to be listening anyway.
The other Ingostles nodded in agreement. Lady Lidiac gave a smile to her Ladies and they followed her out to the jeeps. The jeeps were naval jeeps, they just looked like a hunk of green sheet metal, sitting there waiting for them. The inside didn’t look any prettier and the seats weren’t all that comfortable, but Mella wasn’t expecting luxury. It was a two hour drive to Polei, so Mella tried her best to adjust in her seat, moving into a somewhat comfortable position.
Although she couldn’t adjust, even if she tried to get comfortable, the fact of driving right into battlegrounds terrified her. Any moment between then and Polei, there could be an explosion and she could die there and never get to see her dad or anyone else again.
She suddenly felt like she wanted to get out of the jeep and run back on the plane before it returned home to where she actually belonged. She didn’t deserve to be doing such a bizarre event in just a couple of months even being an Ingostle. But she was there and she needed to continue it. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, mouthing the words ‘it’s okay, Mella, everything will work out the way it needs to be.’.
She wasn’t the only one afraid, the two girls on her sides showed different hints of fear, it wasn’t obvious and they were probably not as afraid as she was, but there was probably anxieties and doubts in other heads too. That same girl who refused to speak to her but sat next to her on the plane was next to her again, curling up against the door of the car. She wanted to look out the window, but Mella could see her forming fists, then releasing it, then tensing them again and releasing it. She knew it was an anxiety thing and Mella was almost tempted to do the same thing. On her other side, another Ingostle, an older one who looked maybe in her fifties seemed fine, looking out the window with a neutral look on her face, but she was biting her nails. She had pulled off her gloves to do so, the black gloves on her lap as she stared out the window and her fingers in her mouth.
The journey seemed to last forever. Mella felt somewhat secure between the two women, but she couldn’t imagine what they were thinking, especially if they were thinking they were Mella’s safety cushion in case anything happened. The silence in the jeep was overwhelming, it seemed to bring more fear into the vehicle and the hum of the engine didn’t seem to help either. Mella was getting increasingly more paranoid the further they went.
“You didn’t ever introduce yourself on the plane, what’s you name?” Mella asked the shy small girl next to her.
“Um…” Finally the girl turned to Mella, although she seemed shy, Mella could tell part of her wanted to talk but she was too shy to start it, “Lady Mgee. And you’re Lady Westwood?”
“I actually prefer Lady Mella.”
“Lady Mella huh?” The older Ingostle asked, probably noticing the conversation and stopping her nail biting, “I’m Lady Eliquie. I’m one of the counselors of Lady Lidiac. It’s been quite a treat to go on such an… adventure. I’ve been an Ingostle for thirty years and I thought it was time to help those out of our country. What a wonderful opportunity, dangerous, but wonderful. I promised Lady Lidiac I would protect those who would come. I heard that you’re new into our church Lady Mella, what brought you into such a trip at such a young arrival?”
“My dad has been near Polei and I haven’t seen him for six years, I wanted to see him and going to this was my opportunity to see my dad.”
Lady Eliquie placed her hand on her heart.
“That is so dear, Lady Mella. You must love your father very much.”
“How long have you been an Ingostle then?” Lady Mgee asked, actually sounding quite talkative after getting her started.
“About ten weeks.”
“Ten weeks?!” Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie said at the same time, both very surprised at such a short amount of time.
“I thought two years was too short for me to be leaving on such a service project such as this. How well have you adjusted, good I assume?” Lady Mgee asked.
“It has been wonderful. It’s been my dream to be an Ingostle for a long time. It was hard when I first arrived, but it was more personal things than the church itself.”
“It’s also a very big culture change. Ingostles are like a species of it’s own.” Lady Eliquie mentioned, slipping the black gloves back on her hands. Her fingernails were bitten raw, all was left barely the chewed whites at the tips of them.
“But the Ingostle culture change has been something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Although my culture may have been different before, I had learned to admire this one.” Mella said, thinking back of her mother.
Both the Ladies laughed.
“There is a reason why I haven’t left it after all of these years.” Lady Eliquie said just finishing a laugh, “there is nothing to hate about this amazing religion.”
“I would have enjoyed a better coronation.” Mella mentioned.
They stopped laughing.
“A better coronation? What went wrong with it?”
“Oh, it was just a bunch of personal struggles... that almost made me cancel it and the attention was a little overwhelming as well.” Mella sighed, the mood escalating quickly as she dropped her head, “and my mother didn’t come.”
They both frowned, Lady Eliquie placed her hand on Mella’s back.
“I’m sorry about that, dear. That’s unfortunate.”
“Well, maybe the coronation didn’t work out so well, but you have mentioned a wonderful life as an Ingostle.” Lady Mgee mentioned, hoping to up the mood again.
“I have. I really have enjoyed it, quite a lot. I just wanted a better start, that was all. My dad was also going to come home that following day and I later found out he wasn’t going to come. That was what brought me here, when he wouldn’t come that day, I knew I had to come to him.”
Lady Eliquie placed her hand on her heart once again.
“That is so dear. I find that you are a very wonderful girl, full of heart and potential. When I was your age, I wouldn’t have even thought of going to such a major service project outside of the country such as this one. Even if my dad was here fighting, I would hope but I would never seriously consider it. That is very wonderful in your part to be so motivated to take this path.”
“I think it deserves a pat in the back from me!” The driver said.
They wouldn’t think he was listening in, but he was.
“What would be your name, sir?” Lady Eliquie asked as they noticed the driver had chimed in.
“Terek. I was a veteran of the Lottoworth War.”
“Forty years ago?” Lady Eliquie asked.
“Fought in battle at eighteen, then I got this rare disease that caused me to be sent home.”
“What disease?” Mella asked, now curious of the driver they had ignored until now.
“Hughins Disease. It infected my inner organs, left me a very miserable man for several months. Luckily it wasn’t hereditary, it spreads in the air from another and I must have breathed it in. I was so sick, they told me I was done and thought I was going to die. It took me a few years to fully recover, but I no longer have such a disease as terrible as that. Although, since I resigned, I found myself stuck wanting to fight somewhere. I helped train other soldiers at boot camps but I never became one. When this war started, I decided to be the military transport. This service project you ladies are doing is amazing and I sure appreciate you doing this. I will drive to help others, including beautiful Ingostle ladies, any day.”
“Thank you.” Lady Eliquie thanked and Mella smiled, taking the compliment half-heartedly.
Mella, Lady Eliquie and Lady Mgee had a wonderful talk, getting to know each other, but not all of the women quite appreciated her there. Although the church itself was wonderful, not all Ingostles are wonderful. Three Ingostles sat together in another jeep, laughing and joking about things that should be pitied upon.
“Did you see that double chin on her face?” One laughed, squishing her face to demonstrate Mella’s double chin.
“I don’t even know how she could get that hat on her fat head.”
“Let alone slipping those pudgy fingers through the fingers of those gloves.” Another snickered.
“She seems so insecure, what would bring her to such a trip?” Another added.
“Well, either way, she doesn’t seem to fit the part of a slender thin Ingostle.”
“Maybe she’ll get there eventually.”
“If she doesn’t die first.”
“Lady Jernia, that’s not nice!” The one in the middle snapped, slapping the black haired Ingostle with her glove.
“Plus, her fat will probably save her!” the third one laughed.
The three Ingostles continued to laugh, their gossip making the driver a bit uncomfortable, but he would never say anything about their rude conversation, even if he knew better.
The three jeeps arrived in Polei with an uncertainty. The village seemed draft and dark. The air seemed to carry a grey atmosphere that carried little to nothing life as it drifted through the streets of the town. Most remained indoors, some outside either seriously ill or doing their daily chores. Some children played in the streets, but they seemed to lack the energy of an average child, hunger forcing them to be pulled down. It was odd to Mella to realize how spoiled she was even just in her country. She had plenty of food and transport, nice homes and safe towns. Here, they had cars but Lady Lidiac had already explained they can’t go anywhere with them without getting themselves into danger. The food was sparse being so far away from the city and the danger of the battlefield left them trapped in their own little town with nothing but what they already had.
Although, as the jeeps came to a stop at the town center, the children ran out to the food, carrying their worn mothers by the finger as they were led to the food at the center of town. This was when people started to get out of their homes, a glow forming in their ill eyes to see help had arrived.
The trip was long, but as Mella helped them get the certain amount each person needed, she was starting to realize how wonderful it was to be helping such people. They couldn't stop thanking, accepting whatever food the Ingostles placed in their hands and walking back to their homes so they could have food in their pantry.
It took a couple of hours before the trailers were completely empty and the townspeople were much satisfied. The grey atmosphere had lifted just a bit and the Ingostles couldn’t walk down the street before a person would thank them. The innkeeper, a very jolly tiny woman who seemed in her nineties, was so overjoyed to have the Ingostles stay in her Inn. Lady Lidiac insisted on paying, but the Innkeeper, Mrs. Mery, merely required them not to pay. Although she was sweet and bubbly, she was also stubborn and would not let them pay for their couple weeks nights in the Inn.
The Inn was simple and very little used, knowing that visitors had probably not come for a while due to the war. Mella shared a room with Lady Mgee, but by then, the hour long ride seemed to acquaint them very well. The bed was a spring bed and a bit uncomfortable compared to the beds Mella has slept in the past three months, but she accepted it gratefully, knowing Mrs.Mery was trying to give them the best comfort she could give them. If this was the best comfort, Mella would accept it gratefully.
As she lied in bed, she heaved a sigh. She didn’t know what else to say. The people of Polei seemed so overjoyed when people came, but she knew there was something missing. Something was definitely off in the town and she knew it was because it was right in the middle of the battle grounds, but something else. It was something with the Ingostles. A few of them had been looking at her with looks she knew all too well. They had been looking at her like that since she first saw them at the airport.
The look of judgement.
She knew, even with how amazing the church was, there was still going to be some who, like all, are human. All humans judge and she knew those three girls were definitely judging. Harshly. She had gone through enough school to know what they were thinking as they would look at her that way. Just as long as they didn’t act on it, she would try to brush it off until she could leave them and never see those three girls again.
But the thought of others judging her still lingered no matter how much she tried to brush it off. It was like a hangnail that was too painful to break off but too painful to keep, a sore hangnail desperate to leave her. Mella wanted to stop thinking about such thoughts, but they continued to linger. She knew what she looked like, how she was shaped much differently than the others, but it hadn’t stopped her from being an Ingostle.
Yet that was still heavy in her mind. Her thoughts kept going back to her mother.
“You’ll never fit in.”
Never fit in… Never fit in… Never fit in. The words kept repeating. Mella wanted it to stop but she knew her over thinking mind would not allow it. It took longer than needed to sleep it off, leaving her lost in dreams in hope that the next day would not bring her more thoughts of her self-doubt.
She was hoping this would help her get such thoughts as this out of her head, but those three judging Ingostles did not help.
Mella was tired of sleepless nights, she wanted to be happy, but her unconscious self kept repeating how ugly she was.
Ugly.
She heaved a sigh and forced her eyes closed, hoping sometime in the night she would finally sleep after her long day.
Chapter 8- The People of Polei
The people of Polei were about the population of three hundred and it seemed like everyone was related. Surrounding them used to be grassland, but it was later used for training for the soldiers. For a long time, the war never came any closer as the grassland and was just practice grounds. It was alright until it was too late. The war started to grow into the grasslands and the next thing Polei knew, they are surrounded. The soldiers, trying so hard to keep the war from moving into the town has reached the point where it was too much in danger. The battlegrounds had reached Polei before they could even blink.
They should have evacuated several months ago when the grounds were somewhat safer. However, when the time came to move the town it was just around the same time the general was taken. It threw the militia off balance just enough for Khyro's soldiers to attack. They expand the battle grounds so they could take the land they expanded and the next thing the Militia knew, Polei ended up in the middle of it. The Army had tried whatever they could to protect the town, building barriers and ditches so none of the enemy would cross their borders, but it was still in battlegrounds, they knew the enemy would find ways to break in. When it was too late was when they had finally found another general to hopefully only temporarily take over until they found General Westwood. The Militia became strong again within weeks, but Khyro had taken a good bite of the war from doing what he did.
Every day, the three jeeps would take a group of the townspeople with as well an Ingostle to help. When Lady Amalla told Mella of who else was coming to help, it meant just the three men; Terek and the other two drivers. Most of the help was dependent on the sixteen Ingostles within Polei.
Polei was on the border of Rumbeig. In fact, it was placed in the corner just a couple of hours from both the enemy and Gragestire. Gragestire was where the airport was, where civilization in it’s city kept it on it’s feet. The people of Polei would be taken to Gragestire, where it would be safe. Gragestire was heavily guarded, the army was good enough on the Hechz republic, they knew Gragestire would stay strong, but Polei was too small to stay standing. Rumbeig was where the fighting was and Polei was in the middle of it.
The Ingostles were just going to stay within Polei, but several sick would need someone to take care of them for the long ride. At least one Ingostle would leave with the few towns people. Although it only took two hours to get from Polei to Gragestire, the Ingostles would spend their time helping the people get settled and then return to the jeeps where they would return back to Polei that night. They estimated it would take about a week to get them all across. They don’t dare take any more cars to take them due to not wanting an obvious caravan driving across the battlegrounds. In fear of that danger, they only took three jeeps.
Throughout the week, Mella was kept busy in helping simple illnesses. She was never a nurse, but she remembered her mother helping her when she was sick. With the help of other experienced women and Ingostles, she helped with warm rags on burning foreheads and how much medicine to give to certain people at certain times. Those who were seriously ill were taken that day to the city of Gragestire. Those healthy would have to wait for the last few days.
Due to hunger, most were puking but were okay while others, as some had not any hospital care, were sick from illnesses that had recently occurred naturally or had them before their city became a serious danger. The center for the ill was small, but Mella was assigned to help the few in there, as the others had to help elsewhere. She didn’t understand out of all places, they wanted her helping the sick, but she would take whatever they told her to do.
She knew, throughout the few days she had been there, that she still had her father to find. Though, when she finally would rest at night just after reading a chapter of The Shei, she would think about how it would all work. Now that she was there, she wasn’t quite sure what to do next. The thought came to mind that they would get all the people out in a week, which would mean she would have a couple of free days before returning back to Chire. She thought to think it harder through when everything is done and she’s in Gragestire. Gragestire was her best resource, she could probably find where he was last and go from there. She didn’t know how she could get away from the other Ingostles, but like she was thinking those continual thoughts, she would figure it out when the time came.
Mella was hoping she wouldn’t be getting sick herself, but luckily, she was given a mask and gloves. Even then, though, she still felt like it wouldn’t protect her from the coughing and puking and the heavy air of sickness lingering.
The boy she was caring for was maybe fourteen and should have been hospitalized months ago, but if was too unsafe even then to drive him clear over to Gragasture. Also, at that time, his symptoms were minor, but as months passed, they grew increasingly and now he could barely get out of bed. Mella tried to do whatever she could, as he had had been sick like this for several weeks now. They were planning on taking him that day so his family went to pack his things, but he didn’t seem to want to leave.
When his family returned with a suitcase for him, they placed it into the back of the jeep and Mella carefully led the boy to the jeep. He struggled to walk, his entire weight against Mella as he weakly made his way towards the vehicle. She struggled, being much shorter than the tall teenage boy, but she managed to help him to the jeep where he was sat down. Once he was settled in his seat, she snugly wrapped a blanket around his shivering body, making sure he was comfortable.
“You know, I would say you don’t need to take care of me. But I can’t even take care of myself.” The boy coughed as Mella took a seat next to him in the jeep, dabbing a warm rag on his sweating face.
“You should have been taken care of months ago.”
“Well…” He coughed hard, covering his face. He was cut off as he got into a coughing fit, his chest painfully heaving out every cough. Then he gave a cough that sounded like he was coughing his guts out and both him and Mella gasped as the boy noticed the blood on his hand.
“Are we leaving yet?” Mella asked, trying not to act in panic.
“Indeed, ma’am. Is something the matter?” Terek asked.
“He just coughed blood.”
Terek turned around to look at the boy and frowned, deep concern in his brown eyes.
“Then we must hurry.”
Two others jumped into the jeep and the driver drove on. The boy continued to cough and Mella wasn’t sure if he was going to make it in a state like this. She wasn’t a nurse, why was she assigned to help someone so sick? She continued to help him, but his blood hurtling coughs was making her shiver in fear of what could happen. He was in so much pain and he simply cried as he continued to cough. It took several minutes for the coughing to calm down and the boy was left leaning his head against the back of the chair, trying to catch his breath. After about half an hour, the boy fell asleep, his head resting on Mella’s shoulder. She wasn’t used to the love and being the one caring for one, but she felt somewhat relieved that he managed to rest. She could see his chest rising and lowering, letting her know he was still alive. She just hoped he could make it to the hospital in time.
“What’s his name?” A very old woman asked on the other side of Mella.
Mella was surprised that the woman wouldn’t know the boy. The town was small enough, but the woman seemed about as miserable as the boy and her pale skin showed she hadn’t left her house for a very long time.
“Hylo. Who are you?”
“Shaina. I knew who he was, his mother always visited me and occasionally he would tag along. She never introduced me to him and he never said a word while he was there. Most of the time I just talked to his mother while he played on his gamebox, clicking his thumbs against those buttons. Technology these days, so addicting it drove me crazy to see him completely ignoring our conversation. I would never have thought he would be in the same jeep as me as we are driving to the hospital.”
“How long have you been ill?” Mella asked.
“Several years. It’s genetic. My mother died from it and her mother as well. I believe it will soon be time for me to die from this disease as well. I have had it my entire life, but by the time you reach this age, your body can’t handle it much longer. It was around this time that my mother and grandmother died as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No worries. I believe it’s time, but they insisted they take me to the hospital since they can’t bring a doctor here. Over the last several years, I’ve preferred home so they’ve sent doctors and I was taken care of there, but I’m afraid I might be dying in the hospital instead of my own house. I want to die somewhere safe.”
“You can’t just say you’re going to die soon.” Mella said, trying to sound hopeful. She was dying, she didn’t want Shaina to die, not while she just met her.
“Oh, but it hasn’t proven me wrong yet. I’m 98 years old… it’s time.”
Mella wanted to cry, but as she thought about it more, she realized that it would get her out of her misery. It being genetic and how she had it her entire life, she knew there would be no way to get rid of it.
The drive was long, but when they reached Gragestire Mella was enternally grateful. They reached the hospital as soon as Terek could. Hylo was still breathing when they placed him on a stretcher and carried him into the hospital, the grattitude that he at least made it to the hospital. Shaina was much taken care of, being carried inside the hospital to hopefully care for her until her death.
Mella wanted to be at her side, but she had to see Hylo. They explained that it would be curable, but he might not recover. She knew that that night she would have to return to Polei for the following day, but she wanted to stay. All she wanted to know was if Hylo was going to be okay.
Mella remained close to Hylo as they took care of him, trying to help his cough and such. She never liked hospitals, it made her nervous. She never knew if she could be lying in that bed as miserable as Hylo looked. She was okay visiting, but she still had that anxiety of being a patient.
The end of the day came quickly and Mella did not want to leave, not while she was still wanting to know if he was going to be okay or not. The doctors told her that they would find out in the morning, but she would be leaving that night. So before she had to leave again later that day, she asked Terek if he could take her the following day.
“Well, I can let the other drivers know. I would actually prefer staying the night here instead of Polei, I need a break from that place for a moment. We’ll have to leave as soon as we can in the morning tomorrow so we can return and take more back here. I understand it with Hylo and everything, so if we need to stay the night. We will, alright?”
Mella thanked him gratefully. Terek told the other two drivers that he was staying the night so they returned to Polei to deliver the message, leaving Mella and Terek. They used to have telephone service in Polei, but they were so far out and with the radio transmissions across the land that the enemy could track, they couldn’t keep the telephone line. So they cut it, leaving a limited amount of communication. That was why Polei was stranded for so long with no help, once they found out, they knew to send out immediate help.
Terek stayed in a nearby motel, but Mella stayed in Hylo’s room, falling asleep in the chair inside. She didn’t want to leave his sight.
When the next day came, Hylo seemed well rested. Although still sick, he seemed he needed that care to get better. The medicine had long kicked in and he seemed to be doing much better than last night. The nurses believed that by how much he had recovered overnight, if he keeps this up, he would be well in a couple of weeks. Mella promised to check up on him in a few days when she volunteers to take more people to Gragestire. She felt bad to be leaving him at such short time, she wanted to be there until he recovered, but she had to go.
Sadly, Mella didn’t get to talk to him long, knowing the driver was waiting for her. As she left his room, he called her again.
“Lady Mella, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for you helping me. You’ve been like a second mother to me.”
Mella smiled, standing there for a moment.
“You get feeling better.” She whispered as she walked out.
As Mella closed his door and walked down the hall, she was stopped by a nurse rushing toward her.
“You were a friend of Shaina correct?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m sorry to let you know at a time like this, but she passed away earlier this morning.”
“Oh… th-thank you for… telling me.”
Returning to the jeep was hard. Mella couldn’t leave not only because of Hylo, but because someone, she had become much acquainted with, had died. More regret filled her, knowing she shouldn’t be going through all this grief. To have to deal with death and illness, with war and trials. The thought of finding her father had seemed to become a second thought as other thoughts of worry and fear had filled her mind since she first arrived.
All she wanted was to find her dad and instead she ended up doing things she would never imagine.
And out of all this, her mother had no idea she was even here, let alone her father.
Mella took a deep breath as Terek asked if she was ready to go.
“I guess I am.”
The driver, with concern, gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.
“You’re a brave woman, you know. To have to go through all of this. An amazing one at that, you just keep holding on. When you go home, you will look back at what all you’ve done and you will be proud and will never forget. You will be telling it to your children and grandchildren-”
“Well, being an Ingostle, I don’t marry.” Mella mentioned, trying not to choke up in tears as he explained this to her.
“Then every single member of your church will know of what amazing things you’ve done.” Terek added.
“I just-”
“It’s hard, I know. You’ve only been here a couple of days and I already can see things happening that frighten me. It was hard for me just to be a driver driving through all this danger, but it needs to happen to save hundreds.”
“Yes, to save the people of Polei.”
“Exactly, now get inside, we must continue to help them and that means return back to Polei.”
Mella nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. He was somewhat helpful in the situation, but she felt like she needed something else to help her go through this.
As they drove down to the border of Gragestire, usually the guards just allowed the jeep to drive right through the gate to reach Polei, but they had stopped them unexpectedly. The driver poked his head out of the window as the gatekeeper approached him.
“The road you have been originally taking has been bombed, I think the enemy knows something and is trying to block the path. You must take a different path.” The guard showed Terek a map, dragging his finger across a dotted line he had created with a pen, “take that route instead. It is not a definite road, but it is safer than the original route, it will take you about three hours, but once you reach there, please let the others know. If you get into any danger whatsoever, do not, I tell you, do not let any of the jeeps leave.”
“But whether they’re to leave or not, they’re still in danger.” Terek specified.
“Polei is already in danger. This has been a major regret from the government that they never evacuated sooner, well now it is backfiring us in the butt with a bomb. The enemy has somehow reached into this area. We wish there was other ways to save them besides taking them a little at a time to Gragestire, but… I’m afraid.”
“We will be as safe as possible, even if it takes four hours instead of three.”
“Don’t go slowly, be quick, it’s harder to target when you’re driving fast.” The guard mentioned.
The fact of hearing “target” made Mella shiver. She knew what she had gotten herself into and she couldn’t forgive herself for it. They drove one, but Mella was ever more nervous, she wished she stayed back at the hospital and would never return back to Polei again. She pressed her hands together, whispering the Ingostle prayer while they drove. She was still trying to get used to the Ingostle culture, but she very much had learned how to pray like an Ingostle throughout her little time living with them.
As they drove down, the fact of being in an unfamiliar route just made Mella ever more afraid. She could see Terek was watching carefully, checking every corner while still trying to keep on the route given to him. Mella could see beads of sweat dripping down his squared face, his fingers trembling as he drove on down the new route. It wasn’t even a road, making it more bumpy and harder to know if they were going the real direction. Terek had, as well, a compass to make sure he wasn’t going to veer off the path towards Polei,.
Mella herself was trembling, her hands sweating under her gloves. She could feel the paint on her face moisten from her own sweat, knowing a single wipe would leave a flesh colored mark on her face. This time, it wasn’t crying, it was something else, but as long as it didn’t drip, her paint wouldn’t drip off. She pulled off her gloves, hoping they would give her fingers air. With the black gloves, she fanned herself, trying to take deep breaths as they continued their path towards Polei.
“Y-you alright?” Terek asked as they continued driving, but it was the only thing spoken for a long time.
Mella shook her head,
“We should have stayed another day in Gragestire.”
“Th-then they would have rea-really thought we… were killed. It’s better to return to Polei.”
“Unless we do get killed, isn’t there other ways to communicate with them?”
“No… n-not really… sorry. I-I’m the communicator in Polei, I am the one with the Ham Radio and I’m the only one who has one.”
“Why not any more.”
“Bec-because the other drivers never had one, but I happened to have one from the war.”
“That’s good you have it, but I sure wished you left it in Polei.”
Terek shook his head.
“T-too late now.”
For a long time, neither of them spoke too worried about other things.
Mella kept gazing outside, almost expecting some giant flaming ball to be thrown in the air and land where they were. The anxiety of looking out just made it worse though. She wanted to take a nap after her restless sleep the night before, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to in her anxiety. She continued to take deep breaths, thinking of her mother and Hylo, then thinking of positive things such as Ingostles and Lady Amalla.
Then the thought of her father. She didn’t even know how she was going to reach him. With what she had available and where she would be going in the next two weeks, she knew there was no way she could find her father even with the plan she had half figured out. Besides, she didn’t even know where to look. A part of her complained this was all a big regret box and a waist of time, but then she considered what the driver told her. She was meant to be here, that was something Mella kept telling herself before she even arrived. Also, according to Terek, this was for experience and she had better take it graciously while she was there.
She was already having emotional problems before this! How could it help her emotionally when it could harm her physically and mentally as well?
Mella closed her eyes, trying to think of beautiful places, to meditate in her seat. It helped her relax, but it took a moment to mute out all of the sounds of the rocks crunching under the car and the motor and the raggedy movement being inside the jeep. Once she had taken out her physical senses, she did the careful breathing, trying to forget what they were driving through and worked on herself mentally and emotionally.
Five Hours Later
Over in Polei, Lady Lidiac was approached by one the drivers. He had just returned pulling up to her and opening the door to the passenger side. On the seat, another one of the drivers sat there unconscious, dried blood down the side of his head. The driver picked up the man by the cradle. Lady Lidiac covered her mouth, realizing it was not who she thought it was.
“Luckily the bomb missed the jeep but it still left it flying. He was still inside, unconscious but he’ll be alright.” The man said, two other men approaching him and taking Terek to the temporary hospital.
“Alright, so you found the jeep, what about…” Lady Lidiac was caught in her words, she couldn’t say her name.
“No. Her body is nowhere to be found, if she was thrown out, we would have found her, if she was inside, we would have found her. We would have found her somewhere but she is nowhere. We believe… ma’am... we believe she was taken.”
“Kidnapped?!”
“The enemy wants something else of us. We don’t know what, but I’m sorry they took your Ingostle.” The man tried, struggling to keep back the emotion building up inside him.
Lady Lidiac started to bawl, falling to her knees.
“We have to find her. I will do anything! I will pay a ransom, I will find her myself, I will pay hundreds of men to find her. Anything please! She’s so new into this church, so naive, so young! I should never have opened this up to any Ingostle, she didn’t deserve this.”
“It wasn’t her fault.” The man tried.
“Then what?! How can we find her?!” She screamed, looking up at the driver, her paint dripping with her tears.
“We will do our best, but it is not easy. We have had several people taken by the enemy, but they have all taken soldiers and they even took a general. To take an innocent Ingostle is beyond what I wanted to hear. I think we realize that they want something else out of this Ingostle, we just don’t know what. We believe it has something to do with Polei, but it makes me wonder why they didn’t take the driver. He was part of the militia at one time, he was a soldier, it would make most sense for him to have been taken... yet… they took her.”
Lady Lidiac continued to cry.
“Then what? She’s trapped there with those soldiers and that general until the war is over?! We have to find her!”
“Like I said, we will do our best. It won’t be easy, we will try.” The man tried.
“Her name was Lady Cromella Westwood right?” Another man asked who had returned after taking Terek to a bed to be cared for.
“Indeed.” Lady Lidiac cried.
“Well, we must also consider, that... Lady Westwood was the… daughter of general Westwood.”
“Her father was the general captured?! ” The other man mentioned.
“Indeed.”
“But if she was taken because of her dad, how would they know she was here and how would they know that she was in that jeep?” Lady Lidiac asked.
“It is just a theory, it could be just coincidence that the daughter of General Westwood just so happened to be captured as well. We don’t know, but yes, we will do whatever we can to find her. And hopefully finding her might result in finding General Westwood and the other soldiers as well.”
“That would be nice, but Lady Mella is first priority. I promised Lady Amalla I would take care of her whatever happens.”
“We will do what we can.”
Lady Lidiac stood up, she seemed somewhat angry, but it was more in frustration and grief.
“Do whatever you can, I will not have her gone from me like this. I don’t want to tell the unfortunate news to Lady Amalla.”
“Let’s hope you won’t get that chance to do that.”
Lady Lidiac snatched Terek’s hand.
“Thank you, thank you, I can’t thank you enough… just please… find my girl!”
Chapter 9- Regret
Mella gasped for air, but her chest refused to fully take in before pressure caused her to cough. She felt the deep pain in her chest, as if her entire body was squished and her lungs struggled to bring in the air nearly taken from her. She wanted to take a deep breath, but even trying caused her chest to refrain. It was increasingly painful, making her cringe. She tried to sit up, but bending shot pain once again through her chest.
“Please stay still.” A man said beside her.
Mella looked over, the man rolling up an elastic bounding wrap.
“Wha-” she said, but she could barely even say a single word without wincing.
“You’ve got four broken ribs, breathe steadily but try not to take a deep breath. These days, the doctors no longer wrap the broken ribs, but with the situation at hand, it’s necessary to wrap it. If you don’t mind, you need to take off your dress. I didn’t want to undress you without your permission, so I waited until you woke up. I need to wrap your chest, but I can’t do it over that dress.”
She stared up at him unsure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she trusted him or not, she just met him and it looked like he did just save her life. But why? Mella wasn’t overly comfortable to have a man looking at her undressing, but at the same time, she knew it was necessary. She didn’t know what to think. She just stared up at him, unsure what to say to the man. She didn’t know whether to trust him or not, but it definitely looked like he wanted to treat her accordingly. As usual, the habit of sighing tried to come out of her lungs, but it only made her wince, gagging in the air she couldn’t take in.
“If necessary, I will just look at your back to wrap it, but you will have to hold the bandage in front. I will help you on your feet, but I will let you undress. I will as well turn my back as you do so.”
“With no peaking?” Mella wheezed.
“A promise. Let me help you up, I don’t think you can undress lying there.”
The man was polite, but Mella still wasn’t sure about him. He seemed trusted but she didn’t even know how he found her or who he was. The man approached Cromella closer and, with the pain of bending and moving, he carefully helped her up to her feet. Mella wheezed, wanting to clutch her aching ribs, but she knew touching them would only make it worse. Being in this situation, she really needed help to take off the dress, but at the same time, the only one in the room was the man and she didn’t want him helping her. Not only because she was a girl, but she wasn’t comfortable with her own body for others to see. She struggled at school gym even to see others girls see her dressing. The man was already turned around, waiting patiently for her to undress.
With another failed attempt to sigh, Mella struggled to reach behind her to unzip the dress. She knew someone else would have to do it, as it was too painful for herself to do it. It was hard even when she didn’t have broken ribs.
“C-can… you at least unzip me?” Mella asked, hesitant on asking something considered so scandalous in her mind.
The man turned back around, giving her a polite smile.
“Of course.” He approached her, pulling down the zipper.
Mella tensed up as she felt her bare back open to the man, but he would see her back eventually for the bandages. He remained behind her, turning his back again. With the dress now unzipped, it made her life ever more easier and she managed to carefully slip off the dress, allowing it to fall down on her instead of pulling it off over her head. She had never felt so much pain before and she could feel it on her entire upper body. Although the ribs were the most that hurt, she knew she had busted her jaw and she could feel cuts across her face and head.
Out of all the struggles she had with the dress, she realized the main problem was the corset.That was probably why it was even harder to breathe, it was because she not only had broken ribs, but the corset was tight on her stomach. Luckily, the corset was not over her rib cage, but as she untied it and it loosened from her chest, she could feel relief as she took a better breath through her lungs. She was still in pain, but she realized she had more air to breathe than what she had before. The corset fell to the ground as well and she was able to make a better sigh. The sigh was still not full, as her rib cage still prevented her from breathing deeply, but the slight relief without the corset was wonderful. She kept on her slip that way he could not see anywhere below her lower back.
“Alright. I’m ready, and please… promise me not to look at my front.” She mentioned.
“I have already made a promise. I would never do this unless it is urgent and it is, so it is necessary to help you.”
Mella stood there, staring at the wall. She was still increasingly uncomfortable, tightening up. He could probably see her rolls of fat on her sides, making her feel ever more sub-conscious of what he was doing.
“Just relax, I still want you to breathe.”
Mella felt like she couldn’t release her tension though. She was not only physically uncomfortable in her pain and the struggle to take a full breath, but being mentally uncomfortable as a man stared at her bare back. Although her back was okay, when he touched the elastic bandage to her chest, she winced, but it was more a jump than pain.
“Please stay still.”
“I-it’s… hard.” Mella said, but the tension in her chest prevented to force the words out.
The real pain happened when he handed the roll to Mella and she wrapped it over her breast and handed it back to him. She could feel the pressure of the bandage on her chest, but as they continued the routine, the bandage seemed necessary to help her. She knew it was needed more than without.
“Thank you.” She said, still wincing at the pain in her chest.
Mella was careful when she bent down to pick up her dress, but she still had that increasing pain that she felt could never leave her. She pulled it back up, the upper part difficult to place over her bandages. With the tight dress, she could see tiny creases where the wraps were, but she no longer cared. Without the corset, the dress struggled to fit around her waist as well, but the man managed to zip it back up successfully. She wondered if the zipper was stretched, but she tried not to think about it, hoping she could have a shawl or jacket to cover at least part of her upper body.
The man walked to the front of Mella now that she was dressed and offered her a seat, sliding over a chair for her to sit on. He sat down as well. The room was dark except for a few windows that were covered in dark brown rags that only allowed dusty streams of light to reach the room. It was a mess and increasingly dirty, the cold cement floor covered in a thick layer of dirt. There was the mattress Mella was lying on and another mattress lied across the room by an old door with merely a blanket and an old pillow as the bedding. There was a couch, but it was so ripped up, yellow stuffing stuck out of the seams. The fabric was stained, making it obvious that some form of animal had been living on it for a long time. The two chairs in the room had a small table between them and the chairs were somewhat okay. They were wooden and the polish on them were chipping and the table was just simple but very used. The man had turned the chairs out of the table so Mella could face him without the table between them. With the gheto room, she felt more uncomfortable and part of her wanted to be separated from him with the table.
“I never caught your name.” The man began, crossing his leg over the other as he leaned back in his chair, “my name is Brant by the way, but what is yours?”
“Uh... Cromella.” She said, but her name seemed to fade out by a small fit of painful coughs.
“Well, Camilla, I have lots to tell you with a very short amount of time. One, I must let you know that it was not me who set that bomb off.”
Another cough came and Cromella looked at him in both horror and confusion. She was just about to correct him that her name was Cromella, not Camilla, but his other words made her think of something else.
“The bomb?... You had something to do with this?”
“Now let me explain!” He tried, waving his hands in front of him to stop Mella from going off into anything to stop him, “it may take a bit for you to understand and if you lose my trust, then it will have to work without you trusting me then. But just hear me out and you will hopefully understand when I am done. I was not the one who set the bomb by your jeep, but I was the one that bombed the road to Polei. It was orders from General Khyro, I couldn’t pass that, but he also gave me other orders that I refused to comply. His direct orders were actually to bomb one of your jeeps, but I didn’t. I am not a killer, yet I ended up in this blasting war. It was out of my control.
“When he found out I did not bomb a jeep and just simply bombed the road, he sent me out again, but this time with another. His name was Kiam Yist, a very cold hearted man who, when I refused to comply again when I saw your jeep, he threw the bomb himself. I was so furious, I found myself wrestling him, angry. Although he had missed, I was sure he would have killed the people on that jeep. I wrestled him until I knocked him out cold. I left him there and went straight to your jeep. I wanted to see if you and the driver were okay, but as I approached you, I found that both you and the driver were unconscious. I was just going to leave you and allow the others to find you, but I knew it would take a few hours as you were not on the road as originally directed. The driver had a concussion, but I knew once he was found in the next couple of hours, they could take care of him and he would be alright, but you needed immediate help.
“I couldn’t just leave you.
“So I picked you up and carried you to my jeep just about a mile from yours, hiding behind a small hill large enough to hide it. Then I drove back and picked up Kiam. He doesn’t even know I grabbed you, I dropped him off immediately on the side of the road just into our territory and took you here.”
“But wouldn’t he tell on you?”
“You know, I wouldn’t really care any more. In case you never knew, the reason of all of this is because we want to increase the land so we can use all of that empty grassland for our own training. Our side mostly has cities and mountains where we have nowhere to fight, your side has hundreds of training grounds. We had been wanting that land long before this war started, this was just another task to add to it. Although, if we claim this land, we would also want the town of Polei in there. And know, this was never my idea, I’m just telling you what the General has told me. Our side has almost more men than yours, yet you keep winning, so we’ve been trying to recruit as many as possible. Polei holds about 200 men, the general wants Polei on our side so those men can join us on this side. That was why he wanted to block the road, so they knew they are stranded and will have to comply.
“I don’t completely agree with this, Camilla. I’m just letting you know that. Polei belongs to you, and even if they did become soldiers, they wouldn’t cooperate. It could easily fall into the townsfolk killing their own soldiers to join their actual side. Now as for the destroying a jeep to block the path, it seemed very unnecessary. That was why I only did the road, but the general was not pleased.”
“So what? You send me back?” Mella asked, gently placing her hand on her chest hoping it would help.
Although her ribs were broken, she knew her nose was broken and she could feel her face tingling in scratches and knew there was a large cut on the top of her head where he had supposedly stitched. The pain in her chest was all that she could think about, but now the thought of the rest of her injuries came to her.
“That’s the other thing I was going to tell you.” After the bombing of your jeep, they sent more troops to protect the land. It is near to impossible to return back to Polei without getting shot.”
“But if you took me, obviously they would be looking for me.”
“Yes and no. I’ve seen what your generals do. They make promises to find people, but it’s near to impossible for them to. For example, think of General Westwood. When we took him, the Hechz Republic took our men just to find out where Westwood was, but none have found out yet. He’s well hidden and only a few people in Khyros army knows exactly where.”
“You seem to know where he is, are you one of them that knows?”
“Yes.”
“So… where is he?”
Brant’s face went cold.
“That’s classified.”
Mella, desperate, grabbed his arm, looking at him. Although he had no idea General Westwood was her father, he could tell she wanted to find him as much as any soldier in the Hechz Republic.
“Brant, I need to know. It’s not so I can find him and become known of finding him, he’s just…”
“A general yes, but what does this have to do with you? You are just an Ingostle trying to help a small town in the middle of nowhere. General Westwood is well hidden and I’m not going to even slip to even an Ingostle finding out where he is. You don’t need to know.”
“No, he’s… I didn’t just come here to help the people of Polei... In fact I had nothing to do with it, I had something else in mind.”
Brant crossed his arms.
“I’m listening.”
“I came here to see General Westwood. I have something I need to… tell him, but I have no intention of telling people of where he is. I don’t even care if I see him miles from where they had been holding him. I only came here to see him”
“What makes General Westwood so important to you?”
“Well… he’s…”
“What?” Brant egged on, looking at her just as hard to get the words out of her.
“He’s… my father.”
Brant raised an eyebrow, the lack of surprise surprising Mella.
“Your father?”
Mella nodded, releasing his arm. Brant scratched his head, looking around in thought.
“Your dad is General Westwood?”
“Yes.”
“But- you already knew he was taken. Why would you go looking for him?”
“I was desperate, I didn’t think it through until it was too late. Then I got stuck here and I don’t know what to do. That was all the reason why I came here was to find my dad.”
“They’ve sent thousands of men to go find him, how could one Ingostle girl find him? What were you thinking Camilla? How on earth would you think you could find him after thousands of specially trained soldiers spent weeks finding him?”
“Like I said, I didn’t think it through, I just wanted to know that he was okay. I wanted to find some kind of records or something that he was alive, that he wasn’t... dead.”
“Oh, he’s alive alright. They wouldn’t kill the General, but if we don’t get what we need, you may find yourself in a very unfortunate situation. Oh, what am I saying!? You are already in an unfortunate situation. It’s impossible to find him, especially in your status. You aren’t even a soldier let alone some secret spy.”
“Yes, I am just an Ingostle who just wants to see her father. That’s why I did this idiotic trip such as this. What do you want with him anyway?! Because all I know was that he was taken!”
“Indeed. We’ve insisted a ransom and refuse to tell them where he is. I don’t fully agree on taking a general for such things, and it is very much unfair, but there is nothing I can do. They haven’t taken care of him much, I hate to be damp with you, but they haven’t been taking care of him and they won’t until they get a butt load of money. They want to know how he fights, how he keeps winning, so they ask questions. They’ve also done some others things to get information about the other side including things you probably don’t want to hear about. They haven’t been too successful, for we very quickly found out that your… supposedly father is a very stubborn man.”
Mella didn’t appreciate to hear that he was more likely tormented and probably tortured to get things out. Although she considered Brant telling her about his stubborn streak.
“It was frustrating at home with his stubborn streak.” Mella mentioned, getting a little laugh out of both of them.
“Alright, so you got your wish. Now you know he’s alive.”
“But, you see, my first hope was to see him. I want to find out on my own but in order to do that… I have to find him.”
“He’s in a very secured place, visitors aren’t even a thought.”
“So what. I disguise, I sneak in, there are other ways to reach it than just walking in and seeing him.”
“Indeed, but do you really want to get into any more danger than you already are?”
“Alright, so maybe that might not work, but I’m sure they would have to bring him out of that cell. Maybe we can figure something out to bring him out of that secured place. I don’t need to talk to him, I just want to see him.”
Brant sighed, running his fingers through his dark brown hair as he continued to think it through.
“I told you I would never let you see him, it would give away where he is hiding.”
“Brant. For all I care, you can keep me from even seeing others to tell them. I just want to see my father, he is more important to me than anything else.”
Brant heaved a sigh, rubbing his whiskery face.
“That could work I guess. I could fake someone coming to get the ransom at a certain time, so he’s forced to come outside so they could trade the money for him.”
“Do we take a real name for me to disguise? Because that would be putting that specified person in danger.”
“But if we don’t specify, they might not believe me.”
“Maybe we can specify class but not name. Like the head general is going to pay the ransom, but he is sending one of his lieutenants to give it to you.”
“That shows weakness though, it just makes my side ever more worse than it already is.” Mella said, but then she thought of something else, “Maybe tell him I’m his daughter-”
Brant shook his head almost instantly.
“Way too dangerous, they might send you right in that cell with him and force a double ransom for the general and his daughter.”
“The Republic won’t care about me though. I am no importance except for a daughter they’ve never met before, maybe they would consider that.”
“And why would they ever think of letting you talk to your dad?”
“Because… oh, I don’t know, but we can figure something out.”
Brant sighed again.
“I don’t know how we can do this, Camilla. This is a situation near to impossible, I told you whether he was alive or not, maybe we just end it there.”
Mella stepped up closer to him, looking him sternly in the eyes. He can tell she was serious, making him shudder slightly, but keep his composure as he looked back at her. Even though she was half his size, her look made her look much larger than she was.
“I didn’t come all this way to just hear that he’s alright. This has not been easy, I have to see him.”
“Than how?”
Mella looked away, taking a seat back on her chair. She couldn’t think but she desperately wanted to know how she would do this, work it out so she could at least see her father. Brant then snapped in an idea.
“What if… General Kyhro always brings someone with him to talk to your dad. He always thinks it’s helpful to have others to speak to him and possibly find other strategies of getting the words out of him by others. I have been in a couple of times, that was how I knew, but, like I said, your father is very stubborn. If you want to see him, I can insist that someone of high class...can give it a try. I can let him know that you are extremely persuasive and intimidating-”
“I am not that intimidating.” Mella argued, sitting back down.
Brant cleared his throat, “and what did you just do to me now? You looked me straight in the eyes and you told me right. There was no way you were going to get out of this. You can be intimidating if you have to. You’ll have to be a really good liar, and it may be increasingly difficult-”
“I’ll do it.” Mella said, standing up again, “To see my dad, I will do anything.”
“Then maybe we’ll have to plan on that then.”
She sat back down, thinking about others things. She was hoping this would be her chance to see her father. This would have to be something she would actually need to think through, it wasn’t something that she could simply expect to work out. She sat there for a moment considering the pros and cons, but she wanted to see her father so bad, she argued over the conflicts of this strategy.
“By the way.” She added, “You mentioned you needed to help me because there are other things you needed me for. You said we were stuck in this territory, so what were you originally planning to do with me?”
Brant chuckled, but covered his mouth.
“Right. I was so distracted on talking to you about others things and forgot about the other assignments. Seeing your dad would have to be a few days because I won’t be able to reach the general until I accomplish the tasks he had given me. The bombing the jeep was one thing, but there was three other tasks as well.”
“And?”
“Well, since you’re kind of stuck here with me, you might just have to join me.”
“Does it have to do with killing or bombing things to prove a point?”
Brant stood up, approaching his tiny kitchen counter.
“Not quite-” he handed her a sheet of paper found on the counter.
“What is this?”
She glanced down at it and quickly realized what Brant was getting her into.
Name: Teuk Grayt
Location: Gragestire Ingostle Church
Status: Spy in hiding
Objective: Find Grayt and take him directly to General Kyhro
Reason: Get him out of Enemy Territory
“Why can’t he escape himself, because they know he’s in there?” Mella asked, reading it over a few times.
“There are only about three Ingostles in there that know of his existence.”
“Is that why you took me? Was to use me for this Ingostle thing?”
“No, I could’ve easily done it on my own, but after I took you, I realized you could be very helpful for this situation. He specifically called for help, letting everyone know he could not do it on his own. That is why it was a direct order. Just getting a spy out of enemy territory.”
“In an Ingostle church.”
“Yes.”
“And what will that do for me?”
“You help me and I help you see your dad. If not, you may just have to take my word for what I’ve told you about him and… go home.”
Mella glared at him, three tasks for one assignment. It seemed unfair to her, but she was so desperate she couldn’t just opt out.
“Fine.”
“Good, we’ll go tomorrow then.”
“Okay, so what about the other two tasks?”
“Well, the other two are pretty easy. The other two aren’t as complicated. Just know, like Teuk, I am a spy. The next one is about a woman who I need to go to to get some information to deliver to the general. I’m meeting her on the train at ten o’clock tomorrow night. As for the third one, a hospital was bombed down in Henroteir. It went off just yesterday and the survivors escaped. I was told to gather any more information left after the explosion. They believe the information I need to achieve is on the other side from where the bomb went off. You’ll need to help me get the paperwork and such. I just hope we can get most of it.”
“I don’t want to see dead bodies, you said no death.”
“The bomb was on the other side of the hospital, hopefully we’ll avoid the dead bodies.”
“Hopefully?!” Mella squeaked.
Brant put his hands on her shoulders, bending down to look at her.
“You’ll be fine.”
“Alright, so it sounds reasonable, and then what?”
“I get the information I gathered to General Khyro and tell him about you. Then we go from there to hopefully our general plan.”
“Sounds somewhat reasonable, but I still don’t like what I have to do to help you.”
“You’ll be alright, Camilla, if any danger happens, I’ll make sure you are the first to protect.”
Chapter 10- Abandoned on the Street
It was increasingly difficult to sleep. Mella was usually a side sleeper, but she was forced to sleep on her back and her ribs refused to allow her chest to slowly rise up and down like a normal sleeper. Although her breathing was slowing down to sleep, every slow breath seemed to carry a painful ending.
Her night was increasingly restless and as the night drew on, she spotted the silhouette of Brant approach the door of the apartment. She didn’t bother to question what he was doing and attempted again to fall back to sleep.
Brant had rushed outside with a personal task he needed to take care of. He hopped into his jeep, taking the road leading to General Khyro’s office. Although, he wasn’t going to his office, but Kiam was. He wasn’t going to leave Kiam to tell him off at the general, not at his situation. Brant parked on the side of the road, but it looked like nothing was out there. The start of the steep incline of the mountains started about an acre in front of him, grassland between the mountain and the road.
Hidden in the grass, Brant opened up a wooden trap door, a faint yellow light coming from below. He descended down a ladder to the tiny cavern. Kiam sat there tied to his chair with a tie around his head and inside his mouth. He wriggled in his seat as he saw Brant, glaring hard. He could only grunt, the grunts increasing as Brant stood directly in front of him, forcing Kiam to look up.
He did abandon Kiam on the side of the road just inside the borders, but tied up in an underground cell. Brant pulled the mouthpiece from him and allowed him to speak.
“I’m sorry about all this unfortunate thing I did to you. You did just kill innocent people on that jeep.” Brant said, only lying about killing them to get him to be sorry.
“It was direct orders, Brant.”
“I am not a killer, I don’t care what General Khyro says if it means to kill innocent people when there are other ways to win this war.”
“This war is blood and killing, how did you end up as a spy if you can’t kill people.”
“Innocent people, Kiam. There is a difference. When we kill to save thousands, it is much different than to kill to prove a point. I know we want Polei, that does not mean to hurt them. You killed those who didn’t deserve to die.”
“The General knows what he’s doing, you shouldn’t underestimate him.”
“I don’t underestimate him at all, I just don’t agree with killing innocent people. That is all. I will follow his orders exactly unless it has to do with what I had to do just today.”
“I wish I can trust you Brant. You are a good man, but why did you have to lock me up?”
“Because I didn’t want you telling General Khyro that I didn’t kill them. I know you only came to make sure I did it, you didn’t come to throw the bomb yourself.”
“I liked you Brant. To be really honest with you, I was actually going to tell General Khyro that you threw the bomb. I understood, so I was going to let it slip. I have underestimated you after you decided to knock me out and throw me into this damp dark hell you created for me.”
“Were you really going to do that?”
“Like I said, I liked you, Brant.”
“But I didn’t know that. I wouldn’t have just let you go like that.”
“I understand.”
Brant heaved a breath, considering what to do with him. He grabbed the collar of Kiam’s shirt.
“Now you listen to me, Yist, I’m going to let you talk to the general. If I leave you, the general will grow suspicious of me anyway. However, you don’t tell him I chickened out. Just tell him it’s finished, it’s all done. You did what we were supposed to do and leave it there. That way it won’t be lying or telling on me. I’ll leave you alone if you do just that, if you don’t comply, I’ll explain to the general that you tried to kill me. He’ll realize that maybe you lied and the blame would all go on you. You may end up in that same prison with those refugee soldiers, living a life worse than what you are experiencing in my underground one. It’s necessary for me to continue my job and if you ruin it for me, it’s not just going to ruin your life, it’s going to ruin a whole lot more. You understand me?”
Kiam nodded, intimidated by the deep glare Brant was giving him.
“I won’t bring you down sir, we did bomb the jeep, that was all the generall wanted. I’ll tell him just that alright?”
Brant took a step back, heaving yet another sigh and running his fingers through his dark hair. He turned back to Kiam.
“It’s necessary.”
When the next day came, Mella found herself with a minor cough. She ignored it, knowing it was just the heavy breathing that she struggled to have. It was early, knowing the drive to Gragestire was going to be a couple of hours and then to get there would be an adventure of its own. She wasn’t quite ready for it, but she was committed and wouldn’t dare opt out so she could see her father.
She was helped with her dress again and she did her own face paint the best she could. Brant had to run to the store and get a cheap set of acrylic paints that would have to do for that day. Mella did whatever she could, knowing she hadn’t had enough practice to perfect painting her own face yet, but she did the best she could. The only problem was the fact that Brant forgot the hat when he had took her from the jeep and the gloves were on her lap before the bomb threw her out of the vehicle. Mella looked pretty beat up even under her face paint, she knew the Ingosltes would understand if she wasn’t fully dressed.
While in the car, she fell asleep, being able to sit up instead of placing pressure on her chest, she slept much better than that night. It seemed way too quick when she woke up at the Ingostle church.
“How did we get through the gates?” Mella asked as she looked around the familiar city of Gragestire. It was odd to hear that in Brants mind, this was enemy territory.
“It took a lot of talking and convincing of who we were. Having you as an innocent Ingostle sleeping beside me was very helpful.”
“In the mess I’m in, I don’t feel like an innocent Ingostle.”
“Your injuries just made it ever more believable. You know, I think you look very pretty without the makeup, I feel the paint just hides it.”
Mella blushed, but was grateful that the paint was covering it. She had never had someone tell her that before, let alone a guy.
“You don’t really-”
“Oh come on, Camila, just take the compliment.”
Mella shut her mouth, taking it in but not fully accepting it.
A group of Ingostles must have noticed the jeep parked in front of the courtyard of the mansion of a churchhouse, because they waited for them in the courtyard. This one was built differently. It was in a U shape with a fountain in the middle of a large stone courtyard. There was a gate into the courtyard, but it was open as it was Monday just before their sessions began. It was early enough, though, that the prelude music wasn’t even going yet.
One of the Ingostles looked like a counselor in her more open dress, black lace across portions of her dress. She stood waiting with a glimmer in her eye.
“Welcome sir, I see you have an Ingostle with you.”
“Indeed.” Brant said as he got out of his seat and opened the door to the other side.
“Oh dear.” The counselor said as Brant helped Mella out of the jeep.
It was obvious that Mella was injured even under her makeup and dress. She winced hard, feeling the pain shoot through her as she took a step on the stone. She looked in pain mentally although it was difficult to see under all that she was wearing. Although, even the clothes seemed worn, dirt and rips across its beautiful red fabric. Her had was barely on her head with her bun messily placed on her head, it was obvious she was not okay.
“She’ll be alright for now, she was a volunteer from another church trying to help the community. I know I’m a man, but I must speak with the Empress, I have very important matters of state to speak with her.”
“And what about the lady?” The counselor asked.
“If you don’t mind, some new clothes. She’s quite tired from this long journey and has gone through a lot of pain. I’ll be a while with your Empress.”
“Very well, Lady Hermia, may you go get Lady Truly?” The counselor asked to the one on her right.
Lady Hermia nodded and walked off and the counselor guided Mella down the courtyard and into the doors. Out of respect, Brant remained standing in the courtyard, knowing he wasn’t allowed inside a sacred church for women.
It was about ten minutes before Lady Truly walked out, her train dragging against the stone courtyard floors, her gloved fingers clasped together as she rushed over to the man in their sacred grounds. Brant was running his finger through the crystal clear water fountain, waiting patiently for the Empress.
“He told me you were coming.” Lady Truly said, knowing exactly who he was.
Brant flicked the water off his finger and sat on the ledge, crossing his leg over the other as he looked at her.
“How did you know?”
“I could tell, what other men would show up around this time? My question is, where did you get an Ingostle? Specifically a very injured one?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Has she seen a doctor?”
“I’ve been her doctor, but don’t worry, I think she’ll be fine.”
“Loss of blood, a broken nose, a broken ribcage, more likely a concussion. She needs more medical help than just you. This is not a simple matter of stitching a tiny wound in a battlefield.”
“I know, but with the situation, I can’t. As soon as I finish this mission, I will take her to the hospital.”
“Why are you involving her into this? And how long will this mission last?”
“Just a few days.” Brant said, trying to be chill as she increased in worry.
“I don’t know if she could last a few days. Broken ribs can cause other problems, she shouldn’t be going around doing missions with you. It could cause serious lung damage if not treated properly and-”
“It’s complicated okay? I’m sorry, maybe I’ll explain it to you later, but at the moment, I need to take Teuk back to General Khyro.” Brant interrupted impatiently.
“And the girl?”
“The mission isn’t over yet, there are just a few more things I need to do.”
Lady Truly shook her head.
“This isn’t smart.”
“I know, but if you could understand the situation, it needs to be done.”
Lady Truly sighed. She fiddled with her hands, pulling the ends of her gloves as she thought in deep worry. Brant understood she was deeply worried, but he couldn’t tell her that this is all because the General is her father. After Lady Truly had some thought, she turned back to Brant, taking a deep breath as the straightened her shoulders.
“Very well. I want to take that girl in as desperately as anyone, but she belongs to you at the moment. I won’t ask any more questions, but I do ask you to… please take care of her. It’s wrong for me to even be letting her keep her at this, but as I can tell by your sincerness, she’s more important for what you are doing than I may understand. I shall take you to Teuk, but not through the front doors. Drive your jeep into the back, I’ll take you through another door so you won’t be seen entering. It’s extremely disrespectful for a man to enter here, but then again, we have been hiding one for days now.”
“I will do exactly as you tell me, Lady Truly. Thank you… for helping him. And Camilla.”
Lady Truly gave a wry smile and walked off, returning back inside where she would meet him in the back.
He did as she told him, hopping into his vehicle and driving around, careful not to drive through the flowers and bushes. As he came around, he saw a door leading to a downstairs, it open with Lady Truly waiting. She stood as if it was some formal invitation, standing with her blue eyes gazing up at him and her hands gently overlapping on her lap. As Brant rushed, she took a step towards him and waved her hands towards herself.
“Please hurry, there are servants in this yard.” She whispered, looking around the large garden in front of her.
Brant kept low and ran over to the door, entering to see the draft basement of a very beautiful church. Although he knew the upstairs was immaculate, the downstairs was just food storage and boxes in a large cement room. It didn’t smell like dust, but it definitely wasn’t a place for an Ingostle to be.
“Teuk, you can get out now. Someone is here to take you to your general.” Lady Truly called quietly.
It took a moment for him to stand up. Lady Truly adjusted her hat over her honey blond hair and leaned over.
“Teuk?”
Behind buckets of food and such, he stood up. Teuk was a very scrawny man, standing there like a pole as he stared at Brant. He looked tired, his body slouching in exhaustion and his long bony fingers holding the buckets for support. He didn’t look healthy, the filth he had over his body not helping. For a while he just stared, squinting his eyes through his large wire rimmed glasses, trying to understand what exactly was going on.
“Is that Brant?!” He said, stepping around the buckets, his eyes still squinting towards Brants face.
It looked like he had an entire living space behind the buckets, but he didn’t seem to care about it anymore as he approached Brant. He hugged him tight, patting his back, thrilled of seeing his distant friend.
“Oh this is wonderful, Brant! I’ve been waiting to get out of here for so long. The Republic has been watching. and they’ve seen me before so many times, I couldn’t just run out of this place. I know you are very well sneaky into getting back into enemy territory, however, it has been so hard for me, I was forced to get stuck down here. Do you have an idea of how to get me out of here?”
“Well, I had one idea, but… as I think about it, I realize that they would be checking under places in my jeep in case you were hiding. Of course, how else would we do but hide you, but I can’t put you under anything so I thought… maybe-” Brant looked over at Lady Truly, rubbing the back of his neck.
She knew exactly what he was thinking. Lady Truly shook her head, folding her arms.
“That’s disrespectful.”
“But necessary.” Brant mentioned.
Lady Truly shook her head again, she didn’t seem to appreciate this idea one bit. With some thought, she turned to Teuk.
“Fine, but as soon as you are out of those guards eyes, you take it all off and leave it. I don’t want a male Ingostle running around. It’s disrespectful and I can’t imagine how embarrassing it would be for both us and you, to have a female dominated religion and a male Ingostle amongst them. So will you please, as soon as you are safe, get rid of the dress.”
Teuk nodded, “very well, if it would get me out of here.”
Brant patted Teuk on the back.
“Then this shall work wonderfully.”
Chapter 11- Lady on the Train
Teuk wasn’t one to impersonate. Let alone dressing up and having to act as a woman. Cross-dressing was never a thing, yet here he was stiff in a shapely woman’s dress, feminine makeup and a large hat to go with it. Because of his narrow form, he just looked like a pole shaped like a woman who had no waist or a large breast. The gloved hands just made his ridiculously long fingers feel claustrophobic and sweaty and the shoes were a bit small for his very square feet. Luckily he didn’t have to wear heels. He was led out of the back, but he seemed to waddle to his seat, increasingly awkward in something he would never have thought of wearing in his life.
“You do realize this is increasingly disrespectful to the church.” Teuk said, trying to breathe through the tight dress without feeling like he would rip the seams. He was regretting getting himself into this situation.
“I understand the situation and Edda will understand it as well. Before I grabbed your dress, I did pray about it, I got a confirmation that it was alright. But please don’t wear it all day, as soon as you are out of sight of the guards, take it off.” Lady Truly mentioned.
“Does it look like I want to wear it all day?” He asked, trying move his arms, but they refused to move with the stiff sleeves.
Lady Truly giggled a bit, but then she straightened and went serious again, turning to Brant.
“Your Lady will be here in just a moment. You do understand, Brant, that we no longer bandage broken ribs because it makes it harder to take deep breaths right?”
“It seems like with or without, she can’t. I’m doing it to protect her chest. I’ve got a few assignments she needs to help me with and I can’t have her more hurt than she already is. It’s more for protection.”
Lady Truly heaved a sigh, pushing her side blond bangs from her face.
“Very well. Although, if she is injured, why bring her into this mess? You’re a spy, she is an Ingostle.”
“Indeed, but she is here in Gragestire for more than service, she also has an objective that I promised to keep. In order to keep it so, I have to keep her secret.”
“I understand, but do you think whatever this task is, she could have a few days to heal?”
“I’m not sure if she has enough time. It has something to do with…” Brant cleared his throat, knowing he couldn’t tell her everything, he leaned over in her ear, “it has something to do with General Westwood... as you know, General Westwood doesn’t have a whole lot of time so we can’t really procrastinate.”
“General Westwood? You know where he is?” She asked.
“Indeed, but it does not mean I can return him safely back to his side. I hate to tell you that I cannot tell you were, though. She needs to see him for something I am not allowed to explain either. Although, to keep her promise with speaking with the general, she is helping me with some… tasks.”
“That’s dangerous in her condition.” She added.
“I have no other choice. It’s necessary.”
Lady Truly touched her cheek in concern.
“You said she wouldn’t have enough time, so aren’t you procrastinating it by doing these tasks?”
“I can’t help her until I do them, she is helping me so I can finish them quicker.”
Before they could discuss any more, Mella came walking out, looking ten times better than when Brant first brought her. Her dress was new, as it didn’t have rips and dirt across the red silk, she had a fresh coat of paint on her face and a new hat on her head. She felt happier, but he could still see the wraps under her chest and her nose was still broken under her paint. They had placed a bandage on her chin and head, hiding under the makeup, so it was only noticeable to those who knew it was there. She gave a tiny smile, but she barely managed to show her teeth.
“You ready?”
She nodded, but didn’t speak. She hopped into the passenger seat, but she instantly saw the extra Ingostle.
“Who’s she?” She asked.
Brant held in a laugh and under Teuk’s makeup his face went red.
“It’s more like, who’s he?”
“Oh, is that…”
“Yes.”
Mella herself struggled to hold in a laugh, making Teuk ever more embarrassed. Pushing more air in for a laugh made it difficult for her broken chest and a painful wheeze came out. Brant looked at her for concern, but Mella straightened, containing herself.
“Let’s go.” She said, but her voice came out painfully.
The border was not very far from the Ingostle church. When they reached the gate, the guard saw Mella and Teuk in their Ingostle dresses, looked back at Brant and confirmed them to continue.
“That wasn’t that bad.” Mella said.
“Thus the reason why he had to be an Ingostle.” Brant said as they continued to drive down the road past the gate.
“Wait!!!!!!” All three of their hearts froze as they heard the guard call them from behind.
Brant immediately stopped the car and the guard ran over to them, panting as he approached them.
“I’m not allowed to let anyone in with Ingostles unless I know who they are. There has been a major security breach, an Ingostle was taken from Polei, we have to check all vehicles.”
“These two had come straight from the church, but this is Lady Nona and this is Lady Grayt.” Brant said.
“Sir, we need confirmation of their names. They could be fake.” He said dully.
“We forgot them back at the church, would you like us to go back and grab them?”
“You would have to because we aren’t letting you in until we do.”
Another man slapped the guard at the car window.
“We know they have them, just let them go.” The other man turned to Brant, “just know next time you need your passports.”
“Very well, thank you.”
Teuk wanted to groan for being called lady, but he refrained from doing so and simply folded his arms, glaring the other direction.
“Have a nice day, and good luck with you ladies, I hope you help lots of people in this terrible war.”
As Mella sat there in the passenger seat, she got thinking of the different environment. Chire was so relaxed and peaceful, standing in another country with peace of the terrible war happening. This seemed like a completely different world to her, a world she wished neither she nor her father ever stepped into. She had never felt so much regret in her life until she stepped into this mess that she pulled herself into. Mella just wanted to go home. She wished she never agreed to go to Polei, she wished she would have stayed home with her mother and never worried about going across the world just to find her missing father, she wished everything was back to normal.
But there was nothing she could do about it
She had to find her father.
Mella straightened, trying to keep her composure as they continued driving through the Khyro territory. Although her chest heaved painful breaths and it hurt as she straightened, she remained so, hoping it would show some form of strength to her weakened body. This was her choice, she would keep to her personal promise.
“So General Khyro will need me to tell him everything I know, I need to-” Teuk was going to continue, but Brant cut him off.
“I can’t take you to general Khyro at the moment. I have some tasks I need to do with very little time, I can’t take a scenic route to the General right now. I need to take a train to meet someone, if you want to take the jeep and go yourself, that would be fine, but I’m taking Camilla with me to meet her, as she is part of this important task.”
Mella kept forgetting to remind him that her name was not Camilla, but he had said it so often, she had nearly forgotten as well that he never knew her real name.
“Very well. Are you taking Camilla as well?”
Mella sighed,
“It’s not Camilla.” She said, “it’s...Cromella.”
Teuk laughed.
“Cromella?! That sounds kind of… well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the R after the C. I’d much prefer Camilla if I were you.” Teuk said, taking it jokingly.
Mella shrunk, not taking it as a joke as Teuk perceived it would be.
“Tuek.” Brant growled, seeing Cromella’s hurt face beside him.
Teuk shut his mouth and dropped his head. He knew he wouldn’t disobey orders from Brant. To him, Brant was a leader he didn’t want to mess with. Although Mella had barely known Brant for twelve hours, when he said something, he was serious about it.
“Sorry about the misunderstanding,” Brant mentioned, “I had no idea your real name was Cromella.”
“It’s alright, Camilla was just never my name, Cromella is my name.”
“And since it’s her name, it should be respected. I’m sorry Cromella for messing up your name, from now on, I will call you Cromella instead of Camilla.”
“Actually, if you don’t mind, could you call me Mella?”
“We will call you whatever you want us to call you.” Brant responded.
Teuk folded his arms, ripping off his gloves and flexing his sore fingers.
“Might as well call me Teukapoo with-”
“Tuek.” Brant snapped and he fell quiet.
There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room.
“Uh… I’m going to get changed out of this… dress. So don’t look behind you… Mella.”
Mella wasn’t planning on it, but didn’t respond. She just nodded and looked ahead at the dusty road ahead. Behind, Teuk bent and twisted to reach for the zipper on his backside, his elbow pressed against the side of his face as his fingers tried to grasp the zipper.
“How do you women do this?” He asked through breaths of exhaustion.
After he finally unzipped it, he spent those several minutes trying to pull the tight dress off of him. He eventually found himself ripping the dress as it finally pulled off and, with frustration, threw the ripped up dress out the door of the jeep and heaved a sigh.
“I have never done something so hard like that in my life.”
Although, Brant didn’t seem pleased and Mella just ignored him altogether.
“Teuk, you just threw a religious garment out the door of my jeep and into the dirt. I don’t know about you, but I would consider that disrespect. When she meant take it off as soon as it was clear, she meant remove it with respect and not throw it out into the dirt.”
“I ripped it by accident, I would think after ripping it, it was already thrown away. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s gone and an Ingostle never wore it, just a man who was forced to impersonate one.”
Mella finally turned to him.
“So I was broken by accident, should you throw me out the door too?”
Teuk was about to speak up, but he fell silent again. He held up a finger, trying to prove a point, but there was nothing to say to that remark.
“The dress is a part of the Ingostle. You throw that away and you are throwing the aspects of the woman herself.”
“Alright, I get it. I shouldn’t have just thrown it out the door. Would it make you feel better if we turned around and picked it up.”
“It’s too late now. We are almost to the train station. I don’t want this jeep stalling, so as soon as we leave, take my jeep and make your way to the general.” Brant turned over to look at Teuk for just a moment, his eyes off the road for a few seconds, “and just remember to take off every bit of that makeup before you see him okay? He doesn’t need to know you disguised as an Ingostle today.”
On a city street, Brant wouldn’t have ever considered having that long of a time of eyes off the road, but there was nothing around to crash into. The land was dusty and went on for miles with no hills or mountains. An occasional very old house would show up either abandoned or used as a shed for something else. The dirt road was difficult to see, separated by the land of dirt just by the tracks of past cars. Ahead, Cromella could see a tiny building that probably was the station to the tracks. She didn’t understand why it was in the middle of nowhere, but maybe this was a more populated area at one time.
They arrived at the train station in just a few minutes. The atmosphere of the old building and the wait for the train made Mella think of a hundred years ago. A hundred years ago people took the train on a daily basis, riding in their brown suit jackets and floral cotton dresses, a square suitcase grasped in one hand as they stepped up unto the train. Now it was nearly old and abandoned. Mella was not in a floral cotton dress and neither of them had a suitcase. The train that would arrive would not be an old steam engine, it would be an improved train that would work faster and smoother than a train a hundred years ago.
The train still stopped there. It was the closest station from Gragestire, so there was still people who would come to the station, even if it was out in the boonies. Today, it was only Mella and Brant, but she was sure at least once in a while someone would come over here for a train ride. Although the station was filthy, the train was brand new, being a new one, it was silver and had a more modern look compared to the old station Mella and Brant stood in. As they entered, Brant had bought two tickets at a self-paid booth that connected with other stations. He got the tickets and made sure they were in seats close to the girl he was looking for. The unfortunate thing was the fact that most seats were full and Mella and Brant would have to sit in different spots.
“The train will reach Henroteir in about an hour.” Brant said, but when he looked at Mella, he could see the disappointment.
She didn’t want to be alone.
“I know. There is nothing I can do about it now, I got the tickets too late, I should have gotten them hours ago. Just hold in there, lets just hope the hour will pass quickly. Then we will continue as planned and get to the hospital in Henroteir.”
“This woman you are meeting, what does it have to do with me?”
Brant didn’t respond. Mella wasn’t sure if he was just ignoring her or just didn’t hear, but she brushed it off, hoping to get her question answered soon.They stepped into the long glimmering steel box, Mella and Brant separating to their seats. Brant had actually found a single seat just behind the woman he was looking for, but the other seat was clear in the back of the train car, a place too far for Mella to communicate with him, let alone listen to the conversation. Mella didn’t know why Brant would need her for this task, but she hoped he would have an explanation soon. She sat down in the back, sitting away from the window so she could at least look down the aisle and see Brant from where she was. He sat there silently and very still just as the woman he was looking for sat directly in front of him.
She would have to watch from afar of what he was planning to do. Frustrated, she remained seated as the train moved again. Just as it moved, she watched as Brant reached over and tapped the woman's shoulder. She turned around, looking at him with eyes that seemed to shoot blue rays directly at Brant. She wore little or no makeup, but her natural complexion complemented her. The hundreds of bright orange freckles spotted across her face was merely natural beauty marks that she would always have and her hair was merely pulled back in a simple french braid, her face opening up with her large blue eyes.
Mella was desperate to meet this woman herself, and maybe she would, but she wasn’t sure what Brant wanted Mella to do at the moment.
Although Mella couldn’t hear the conversation, she knew they were talking about something that caused the woman's face to show confusion. At first, Mella could tell the woman didn’t want to listen to him, grasping the arm of the chair and and trying to interrupt him, her foot pressed against the seat in front of her in desperation to escape. By the actions of Brants hands, he continued to explain, it must have triggered something because she finally settled down, dropping her leg and releasing the arm of her chair. As he continued to explain the words Mella couldn’t quite understand, the woman had leaned forward anxious to hear more. The woman focused hard, concentrating on everything Brant was telling her, nodding to almost everything he was saying.
Mella desperately wanted to hear, but all she could do was watch from afar as planned. She did a lot of talking herself, but whenever Brant opened his mouth, it seemed to agree well with what she was saying. Between all the conversation, at just a moment, Brant pointed at Mella and the woman glanced at the Ingostle and returned her gaze back to Brant. Mella shrunk, unsure how to react to having some form of part into this. What on Earth was he talking about? Was he releasing secrets that he was supposed to keep? Was he just pointing her out just so the woman knew Mella was with him? Mella was desperate, she was tempted to make an excuse for the bathroom just so she could hear a moment of their conversation, but she remained seated.
This happened for about twenty minutes, just him talking to her with nods of agreement and her responding to whatever he was saying. As Mella continued to watch, a word must have been said that made the woman disagree. Her eyebrows would scrunch up, and although she was still listening, she was no longer satisfied of what she was hearing. It seemed almost of confusion and her foot returned to pressing on the seat in front of her, getting more and more uncomfortable at this unknown conversation Mella was desperate to hear. As half an hour passed, Mella knew the anger was building up in the woman as her orange freckles seemed to increase in vibrancy, her blue eyes turning dark.
Mella wasn’t sure if she wanted to watch any more, she could see the look on that woman’s face that she no longer wanted to listen, her hand had returned to the arm of the chair, her knuckles turning white as her fingers grasped the arm. Whatever was happening, the woman wasn’t liking where it was going and Mella was even more desperate to find out what was going wrong. Her face seemed to show it was of hurt and something personal, mixed feelings of hurt, anger and frustration in her beautiful eyes. What would Brant do to get into personal things? The woman seemed to be on the verge of tears when the train came to a stop at the station the woman was going to get off. Mella could tell there was a look of relief on her face as she realized she could escape this conversation. She stood up, glaring at him in both tears and anger. She said something and with a firm quick hand, she backhanded his face and marched off the train.
Brant held his tingling cheek, watching as the woman stormed off the train. Mella wasn’t used in that whatsoever and it bothered her why Brant had pulled her into this. She was useless. She didn’t even get the chance to hear what they were saying let alone what they were talking about. Part of Mella wanted to slap Brant herself to reason why he was doing all of this and upsetting other women on trains. The other part was just wondering why he would get into this mess and mix her into the mess?
In about fifteen minutes, the train came to their stop and Mella was the first to stand up, running over to Brant.
“So, what happened?-”
She wanted to touch the large red mark on his face, but she refrained. She was too curious about what she didn’t get to hear, that way she may know why he was slapped in the first place.
“Well, that no longer matters. I got the information I needed.”
“With a souvenir to go with it” Melle teased, trying to hold back her outburst of frustration deep inside her.
Brant rubbed his face again, understanding Mella’s meaning of a souvenir.
“Yeah, that was my fault. I was just going to ask her the questions I needed and she was willing as soon as I explained why. The information was crucial and she was willing to comply once she understood what I meant. After all of the conversation we had, I started to get into her personal life that I shouldn’t have gotten myself into. It just slipped out of my mouth and somehow it seemed to be forced out, every word pounding out. I got talking about her… dead husband and the trails and… yeah, went a little too far. I don’t blame her for wanting to leave and finish her farewell with a slap in the face.”
“So you deserved that slap.” She said, not even asking, but knowing.
“It was necessary for what I said to her.”
Mella nodded, not really looking directly at him.
“Do that to me and you’ll get a second slap.” She threatened jokingly, looking back at him.
“I’m not planning on it.” He said, but he didn’t take it in as a joke.
They stepped off the train on the station, if it would be considered a station. It was only a bench under a roof terrace with a tiny booth where you could get tickets. She thought the station to get on was small, but this wasn’t even a station. This one was by the tiny town of Henroteir, but from where Mella could see, the town was nothing but rubble.
“What was her name?” Mella asked as the train continued its path down the tracks and leaving them alone in quiet.
“Rohanna. Very wonderful girl, I just got into things that lost my trust with her.”
Mella heaved a sigh, she still needed him to answer her question he didn’t seem to hear earlier.
“So what did I have to do with this?” Mella repeated, her words loud and clear so she knew he had heard what she said.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but before we started straying off into personal things, I pointed you out and without saying anything that could spread and put you in danger, I told her a portion of the situation so she could understand what I was up to.”
“So I was your proof of what you were up to?”
“Yes.”
“To her, it probably looked like you were pointing out a random person just so she could believe you. Placing me in the back of the train is still not helpful.” Mella mentioned.
“It wasn’t my fault, I wanted you to listen in, I wanted you to be there and talk to her too, but procrastination got the best of me.”
“I would have probably stopped you from getting into her personal life too and maybe you would have avoided that slap.” Mella snapped, folding her arms as they stopped just past the station.
Brant rubbed the back of his head.
“I guess so…. I really did deserve that, but we don't’ have to point it out any more.”
“I really wasn’t that useful. To her, I could have easily been a random woman you decided to point out to prove a point. I really wasn’t helpful in this situation.”
“Well… it’s less suspicious when I have an Ingostle.”
“You’re not that suspicious.” Mella pointed out, looking up and down at his brown leather jacket and slacks.
Although she knew he didn’t have an official home she knew about, he didn’t look homeless. He stayed nicely groomed, his hair combed through, his shoes intact. He wore a faded blue polo under his brown leather jacket, his levis with no holes or faded in any way. He kept a clean shaven face, to Mella, he didn’t look any way suspicious.
“Well, you see,” Brant turned over to her ear, she leaned in even though there was nobody else around, wanting to hear every word, “a few weeks ago, I bombed a train because they were transporting a 3.5 billion dollar bombshell. A… nuclear bombshell that didn’t quite have the bomb itself inside yet. To prevent it from killing millions of people, I bombed the train to destroy the shell. That’s the long story short why I’m suspicious when it comes to getting on trains.”
“But the bomb was on your side. Where was it going to be planted? Why would you destroy your own bomb?”
“It was not orders from the general. He does not know it was me, I am not a killer so I didn’t want him killing others. It was unnecessary to kill others at such an act like what the General wanted.”
“So you’re really against what your general wants?”
“Have you ever met someone where you agree with every single thing they say?”
The first thing that came to mind was Mella’s mother, but she brushed it off.
“I guess so.”
“Well, I have a lot of things I agree with General Khyro, but I still have things I disagree with. I can’t agree on everything the general says. The bomb is one of those things I highly disagree on. Well, everything comes with a consequence. There was a witness, but they were never able to find out who exactly had bombed the train. To prevent suspicions, I knew to go on trains with a partner or some form of disguise. I bombed it alone, when I entered the train this time, I came with a partner. Suspicions had lowered as you have seen.”
“So where is the hospital?” Mella asked, changing the subject.
“That is a good question. It’s about a mile north from here, we’ll have to walk.”
“You want me to walk in this dress?”
“There are no cabs here. If it will be easier for you, I can carry you so you don’t get your dress dirty.” He said matter-of-factly, “what made you suddenly feel like you didn’t want to get your dress dirty? Weren’t you just walking around with blood, rips and dirt across your dress?”
“Well… yes, but this is a new one. I don’t want to break it in already.”
“It looks like you have no other choice at the moment, Mella.”
As they walked, Mella thought about the other Ingostles. Thinking of her dress forced her to think of Lady Eliquie, Lady Lin and the other Ingostles in Polei.
“Do you think the other Ingostles are looking for me?” Mella asked in concern.
“I’m sure they are looking hard.” Brant responded, putting some form of hope in the Ingostle.
“I’m just so far away in enemy territory and… well, you did kidnapped me.”
“To treat you. It was necessary.”
Mella nodded. Yeah, I guess it was necessary, she thought. Everything was still a big blur to her. She was still trying to put things together, but there was so many things going on, it overwhelmed her to fully think about it. She wanted to think of other things, but from her low self-esteem to deep regret, all she could think about was herself.
“So some information of what we are doing, I need to gather information in that hospital. It was bombed some weeks ago and may have some very valuable information the General needs. They should hopefully be on the side that somehow missed the bomb, but we will find out when we reach the building. This hospital was specifically for soldiers, thus the reason why the General needs the information from it.” He explained.
They continued to walk, Mella not really wanting to speak much at all. Every time she spoke, she would have to breathe every few words and it frustrated her. She just listened to Brant and they didn’t speak for the most of the walk.
The atmosphere was dry and dusty, every step leaving a puff of fine dry dirt as they continued down what looked like an infinite land of desert. Mella could feel it in her lungs, breathing in the fine dust to add to her already struggling breaths. She could see the train continue it’s path towards the mountains miles ahead, but other than the tracks and the tiny terrace on the side, there really seemed to be nothing else around.
Although, they followed a road and what came out of nowhere was ruins of buildings. Most were nothing but stubs in the ground, dirt piling up inside their walls. The hospital ahead, faded in the dusty air, lurked in a place it didn’t seem to belong. It was large, half of it crumbled and burned black, the other half barely useable for hospital patients. Between the ruined buildings, a flagpole stood with a ripped up flag barely grasping it’s rope. It was the Khyro flag, red and orange, but all that was left of it was shreds of fabric flapping in the wind.
The silence was what brought chills up Mella’s back though. The sound of the train was long gone and all she could hear was the tiny whistle of the wind and the fading flaps of the remaining flag. She could almost hear her own breathing, heavy and hurting, forcing the air into her broken chest. Something seemed suspicious about the abandoned place.
“How long ago was this… hospital bombed? Because according to the village, it seems like it’s been a long-”
“Sh!” Brant snapped, holding his finger as he started crouching.
Mella didn’t want to be quieted down. She wanted to break the silence, it helped her insecurity at such a place. She was just about to say more, but his eyes whipped a glare at Mella and returned back to his process of silently walking while crouching lower and lower towards the ground.
“Stay low.” He whispered, his words Mella could barely hear.
“Wh-what are we doing?” Mella asked as quietly as she could.
He didn’t respond, his focus was on other things. Mella could feel the fear, there was something around and it made Mella more afraid to realize she couldn’t hear them. Brant knew exactly what it was, but the unknowns of the situation forced another chill up Mella’s spine. She crouched, but it made her wince as she felt her chest heave to the bend of her body. She hadn’t forgotten about her ribs, it had been hurting all day, pain shooting constantly through more than just her chest as the day went on. She tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t ignore pain, she could only ignore telling others of her pain. With the heavy air of dust and bending low, it was harder to breathe, her chest painfully bringing in air that it struggled to take.
“Brant...” She whispered, but it merely came out as a choke.
She could see the hospital, but it was still far away. There was nowhere to hide, the buildings were too torn apart to be a hiding place, but that would be a better hiding place than in the middle of the street. All she could hear was the crunching of her feet on the dirt now, the wind seemed to stop, they were too far from the flag, it was just her steps. Every step suddenly felt like she was revealing herself to whomever was hiding from them. What made her question was the fact of why she couldn’t hear extra footsteps?
They kept walking, the silence continuing. She could hear Brant breathing beside her, his hand clenched on his belt. She didn’t notice it before, but he had an army knife, held tied around his belt with his hand on the hilt. He was fully focused on whatever was ahead, his steps quiet and stealthy as he continued his way across the street.
Then, off to the side, she saw a tent. It stayed well hidden in the dust, the tan tent low and difficult to see. To get inside the tent, one would have to crawl through to sleep, the top of the canvas covering no higher than maybe three feet. Even Mella could recognize an army tent such as that, used to hide and stay undercover. She only spotted it when the tent was just a few feet from her reach. It was between two ruin walls, pulled back so those not watching wouldn’t see them as they walked down the street.
Mella wanted to run away, escape the fear deep inside her gut. She wished she never left the train, that Brant could have just dealt with this problem on his own.She should have suspected that, being in battle grounds, there are going to be soldiers around the hospital, either under cover or guarding for whatever was inside. She stepped into a territory she regretted even thinking of stepping into.
When Brant had stopped, Mella’s heart seemed to stop too.
“Get down.” Brant snapped, snatching Mella’s arm and pulling her behind a shattering wall.
Mella hit the ground hard, feeling the pain not only in her chest, but her head started to pound again, thumping her round body next to Brant as they leaned against the wall. She could hear Brant’s heavy breathing and her fear forced her to do so as well, but her chest only heaved wheezing. It was loud, or at least it sounded loud in the fear and silence lurking in the air. With all the activity, Mella had hit the point where she could barely take in a breath. She felt like her chest had pulled in the air from her, her lungs barely able to grasp another breath. She needed some kind of help, it made her ever more want to escape and find help for oxygen. She didn’t know what could save her, but hiding from an unknown enemy was not helping her situation.
“Brant… I can’t-”
“Sh.” He snapped again, covering her mouth.
Then she could hear them. Their feet crunching, guns being loaded, the fear increased to sheer horror. She merely froze up, forgetting to even take a breath. Her head pounded and her eyes kept shooting around as if someone would jump out from any corner and pounce on her. The silence was unbearable. It seemed like Brant was breathing in her ear, as if reminding her to breathe too, but her lungs didn’t seem to act on the thought. Everything seemed enhanced, her hearing seemed to hear every single noise possible, her sight seeming to glance at every direction at once. She went numb, unsure if she would even be able to run if they started shooting.
When she heard more footsteps surrounding her, she knew that they were walking around so there would be no way of escape. She was dead, she knew she shouldn’t have agreed to come with hi in the first place, she knew she shouldn’t have been so stupid to agree to do such dangerous tasks. She was Ingostle, an Ingostle would never even consider getting into this kind of mess. Yet, here she was, wishing she were dead than to deal with the horror in the situation.
She came from freezing up to trembling. Her body tried to tense up from the shivering, but it only caused more pain in her abdomen, only making her life ever more difficult.
Then came the gunshots, breaking the silence. Dusty holes appeared right above her hed, forcing her to slide lower down the wall. To keep from screaming was overwhelming, her terror keeping her silent, not even tears would come no matter how much she wanted them.
“Show yourselves or we will shoot you.” The voice threatened, the gunshots stopping.
We both hesitated, Mella didn’t want to show herself, but she didn’t want to get shot either. Her green eyes gazed over at Brant, he gave her a firm but fearful look. She knew he was going to show himself, but part of her wished he wouldn’t. With a trembling hand, she grasped his wrist. He nodded at her, looked up at the sky and then got up on his feet. Mella released his wrist and he turned to the men behind the wall.
“And the other?” The soldier asked.
Mella closed her eyes, she had no other choice. She wanted to take a deep breath, but all that came out was a wheeze as she stood up. She held her hands up, the dusty air and the pressure of shock and fear left her numb of even emotion. She suddenly felt like death would just get her out of her own misery. She didn’t look directly at the men standing in front of her, guns point blanc directly at their heads.
Although the guns didn't remain directly at their heads for long, before they lowered their weapons. There was two of them. One had a very square jaw, jet black whiskers across his jawline, the army helmet covering half his head. The other had olive skin with no hair on any part of his face or head, a supposed native of the land.
The one with the square jaw’s eyes grew wide, taking a good look at Brant.
“Is this who I think it is?!”
Mella thought it was only her that was confused, but Brant seemed to show the same face. Whoever this guy was, Brant didn’t seem to recognize the soldier in front of him.
“Don’t you remember me? You trained me, Brant. Does Tryker ring the bell?” The soldier asked, dropping his gun.
That’s when Brants eyes lit up and he dropped his hands. Mella thought for a second that Brant really did recognize the soldier in front of him, but she could see it in the fake smile. He still had no idea who this man was in front of him.
“Tryker, long time no see.” He said, forcing that fake smile to grow bigger.
Tryker patted the native on the back with a grin, looking from the native to Brant.
“This is my partner, Hei. A very trustworthy man you know, I think you will get along perfectly with my native buddy. So what brought you into these ruins?” Tryker asked, fanning his hand out to demonstrate the land.
Mella could see Brant’s smile fade ever so slightly. She could tell he didn’t want to tell them the truth, knowing they weren’t here to suddenly help him.
“Stella... here is seriously injured,” Brant lied, looking at Mella as if hinting to accept the name he faked for her, “I’m over here to scavenge for medicine.”
It was obvious that he didn’t trust Tryker, but Mella seemed to almost believe what Brant was saying as well. She really was injured and it had most definitely gotten worse since they first arrived off the train. Did Brant know that Mella felt like she wanted to pass out in the increasing pain she was going through? Maybe scavenging for medicine was the best way for her even though he was really looking for information.
“I’ve got medicine in my tent.” Tryker suggested, pointing with his thumb towards the army tent behind.
“Use your medicine for yourself, you’ll need it with this war. The bomb only exploded half of the building, I’m sure there is medicine in there. We were already planning on coming to gather medicine for future use as well.”
“Very wise I have to admit, Brant. Better be safe than sorry right?” Tryker agreed.
“May we be of any assistance for your scavenge?” Hei added, his deep voice rumbling the ground under their feet.
“Don’t you have other tasks to do while you’re here?”
Tryker looked over at Hei and shrugged, both of them turning their glance back to Mella and Brant.
“We have some spare time, I’m sure you probably could use the help.”
Brant and Mella both knew they couldn't have the two men at their tail, but it sounded like they had no other choice. They didn’t want to be any more suspicious than they already were.
“Alright, let's go then.”
They continued on down the path, this time with Hei and Tryker walking behind them. Mella was still in the shock of the traumatic event and as she walked, coughs kept wanting to be forced out of her piercing chest. She couldn’t think or react, her feet seemed to move on their own and the dizzy feeling in her head was difficult to focus on where they were going.
When they finally reached the half collapsed building, Mella didn’t want to go inside. She felt weak and wanted to sit down, she had no intention of entering such a building. Although, her thoughts refused to act and she continued walking with the others to the doors. Inside was dark and increasingly musty, the stuffy air in the corridors seeming to stick inside her struggling lungs.
“If you two could take a look in the back side of the building for medicine, Stella and I will search the front side.”
“Very well.” Tryker said, Hei following him further down the hallway and around the corner.
Once they had disappeared into their designated section, Brant heaved a sigh, grateful for being alone from the two men. As soon as they were gone, he immediately started his search for the record room.
“They are usually by the front, that was why I directed them to the back. Now if you could help me find that room of records, we could get this done a whole lot quicker.”
The halls were black and rubble was scattered across the floor, the ceiling shattering above. Her footsteps echoed in the ash covered halls, but they were also heavy, her entire body dragging in exhaustion. Mella would’ve been looking too, but she had already long realized that she was not doing well. She just wanted to follow and hopefully find somewhere to sit down and rest. Her body ached more than just her chest and her head was not only pounding, but spinning.
Her feet dragged, her mind going off everywhere. Her legs barely held her up, she wasn’t sure how she was still walking. Her ears seemed to be ringing, her eyes barely focusing on where they were going. She was merely trying to follow Brant, but she could barely grasp the fact of following right behind him.
“Cromella.” A muffled voice said, but it barely managed to reach her ears.
She merely ignored him, her eyes gazing in different directions.
“Cromella.” Brant repeated in a much more clear voice.
Mella finally looked over, Brant standing by an open door.
“I found the records. Not much to salvage, but hopefully enough for the general. Come on, Mella.”
Brant probably would have noticed if he wasn’t so inclined on his objective. He seemed to have looked right through her, totally missing the fact that Mella looked absolutely miserable as she approached him. Mella nearly had to drag her feet as she entered the room, staying by the door frame as Brant rushed over to look at files. A large portion of the wall was collapsed, several files shredded or in ashes.
With desperation, Brant snatched a pile of salvageable files and threw them on a partially broken table. The files landed in a puff of ash and he opened up the first one, gazing down the at the words typed on the paper.
“I need you to look for any files of anyone living. Make sure we know if the illnesses or injuries have been healed or they were probably either dead or still in that state. Any deceased or major injuries or illnesses, toss. We have no need for those. These files are really important for the general, but we need to work as fast as we can-”
“Brant-” Mella managed to finally say, but it came out as a breathless gasp.
She was leaning against the doorframe, her hand on her chest. She had gone ghostly pale, her eyes not even managing to look over at Brant. She did not hear a single thing he said and she didn’t care, all she needed was help.
Brant shot to his feet, throwing the rest of the files on the table. Quickly, he had grown deep regret of not knowing about this sooner, but he would help her now that he knew.
“Mella, are you-”
Her eyes rolled back and Brant rushed to her before she collapsed on the floor. He held her nearly lifeless body in his arms, the weight of her fall forcing him to fall to his knees. He stroked her ice cold cheek and looked around, he was alone with only a girl lying in his arms.
Chapter 12- Trust
The Empress approached the driver, although she was sweet and respectful, her glare killed everyone in her path. Lady Lidiac stormed over to Terek, ripping her glove off of her hand as she neared closer and closer to the drivers face. As soon as she reached him, her bare hand slammed into the man's face.
“Feeling any better?” she spat.
Terek rubbed his cheek with his good arm and gazed down at his slinged one.
“It’s been better, a minor headache and a hurting arm...now a stinging face. ”
“That’s nice, but I’m sure Lady Mella is worse than you.”
“Are you blaming me for all of this?”
“You knew the risk of leaving even though they had already warned you. We could have waited for you, even if you had to stay in the city for several days-”
“There would have been no way to communicate and you would still be searching for us, thinking we might have been killed.” He argue back.
They were standing in one of the rooms for their temporary hospital in Polei. Most in there weren’t much sick, it was mostly for those who didn’t have anywhere else to stay. Lady Lidiac didn’t much care about the people in there although all eyes were glued on them. She kept her blue eyes directly at Terek and she refused to remove them from him.
“You knew there was a risk factor, I know you were afraid, you knew better. Now I have a missing Ingostle. The one I was always most concerned about. Mella was so young, so new in the church, so naive, so self conscious of herself, of her life. And you let her get taken from me! I may never see her again, she could be dead because of you!” she screamed.
It was unusual to find such a calm woman react this way. Those in the same room now tried to walk out of the situation, leaving Lady Lidiac standing alone in front of Terek. Terek stood firmly, bringing in a rush of air through his bulbous nose. She was definitely intimidating, but the driver kept his composure.
“Ma’am, I am so sorry.” He began, hoping she wouldn’t cut him off again, “I would have saved her in a heartbeat had I not been unconscious when she was taken. Lady Mella was a very wonderful girl, I would never purposely leave her like that. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for putting her in danger like that.”
“You could have saved her by not leaving at all.” Lady Lidiac said through broken tears.
She pulled out her handkerchief, leaning against the wall. The driver wanted to comfort her, but he knew it wasn't right for him to do so.
“I understand if you will never forgive me, I want her back as desperate as you. She didn’t deserve this.”
“No. She didn’t. That’s why you shouldn’t have risked her life just to get back. She could be dead because of you.”
“Ma’am, please-”
“We just need to find her, that’s all I want!” She screamed, shaking her head as she gazed up at the ceiling.
“We are doing whatever we can, ma’am.” Terek tried.
“Well, maybe you aren’t doing good enough!”
“Lady Lidiac?” Lady Mgee asked, stepping into the room.
Lady Lidiac turned to the petite Ingostle, straightening. She took in a deep breath and stuffed her handkerchief back in her purse, slipping her glove back on her hand.
“What do you need, dear?” She asked, refusing to even glance at the man beside her.
“I want to search for Lady Mella.”
Lady Lidiac heaved a sigh, trying to contain herself. She gave a half-second glare at Terek and focused her eyes back on Lady Mgee.
“I don’t want to lose another, Lady Mgee.”
“Its safety in groups, Lady Lidiac, Lady Eliquie will join me for the search.” Lady Mgee said as the middle aged Ingostle stepped up next to Lady Mgee.
“Ladies, this is a job for the men, you can’t do this. I will not allow it. In fact, I will merely forbid it,” Lady Lidiac said stubbornly, “they won’t let you out of Polei, anyway. We’re stranded until it’s safe.”
“Then what, Lady Lidiac? We Ingostles have an advantage. There are Ingostles on both sides of this war, we can probably get to the other side easier than the men.”
“It's still not safe, look what happened to Lady Mella!”
“We need to find her, what other choice do we have?!” Lady Mgee snapped, standing her ground.
Lady Lidiac shut her mouth, she was as desperate as the women, but she was also concerned of their safety.
“We can't drive there to the border, it’s too dangerous with a jeep.” Terek specified, barely managing to even say that within his silence.
“Then we'll walk.” Lady Eliquie said.
“It’s a long way, two hours in driving, even longer walking.” Terek added, his comments getting glances from the Empress with mixes of emotions.
“To find Mella, I will do anything.” Lady Mgee said, turning to the tall old Ingostle beside her, “let’s get walking, Lady Eliquie, we’ve got a while.”
“It’s not safe!” Terek cried, he didn’t want to face any more blames for missing Ingostles, even if this one had nothing to do with him.
“He’s right ladies, please, I can’t just let you leave like this.” Lady Lidiac pleaded, but it was more of defeat. It seemed the Ingostles had already won, no matter what the Empress would say, it seemed like they would be leaving anyway.
The Ingostles turned to the driver and Lady Lidiac.
“Edda will guide us.”
***********
Hei and Tryker were just finishing up by the time Brant had stuffed the needed files into his satchel. He closed the flap just as they entered.
“Did you find all that you needed?” Tryker asked, but he was stopped in his footsteps as he saw Mella unconscious, but placed gently on a soft office chair.
“Oh dear, we need to do something now!” Tryker cried, falling to his knees and feeling her cold pale face.
Brant heaved a sigh, approaching Mella, “She stopped breathing for a moment, I managed to give her air, but I’m afraid she needs more than that. She has pneumonia. I’ve never treated pneumonia before.” Brant said as he placed the back of his hand on her burning forehead, “a definite fever.”
“We need to take her to a hospital.” Tryker said, kneeling by her in desperation.
“We are in a hospital.” Brant mentioned, but it wasn’t jokingly.
He seemed completely out of it, his own emotions out of whack. He spent the last several minutes trying to bring the life back in her body and just a few moments quickly stuffing files into his satchel. That was when Tryker and Hei stepped in. Brant didn’t know what to say, he felt numb, unsure how he managed to save her or if she’ll keep living. Whatever he said seemed to come out without a definite thought or emotion.
“Dis hospittal is not safe. If she has pneumonia, de air and lack of cleanliness of dis will not help de woman.” Hei said in his deep accent.
“We can’t take her to another hospital. It’s too dangerous.” Brant said, shaking his head as he stroked her cheek.
“Why? Who exactly is she?” Tryker asked.
Brant heaved yet another sigh, although he still didn't trust them, he knew he had to tell some form of truth.
“She's undercover. I can't blow her cover or she might get herself killed.”
Both of the men's faces turned into deeper concern. Tryker turned over and looked up at the native.
“Weren't you a nurse, Hei?”
“Only for six months dough. Before I was drafted of course.” Hei responded.
“That’s long enough, can you treat her?” Brant said.
“It would be better at a proper hospital.” Hei added, leaning over and checking her pulse.
“Well, it looks like we have no other choice.”
“Let’s get out of this drafty hospital at least, we can put her in our tent.” Tryker said.
“That tent looked pretty small though.” Brant mentioned
“Indeed, but it is also adjustable. We will expand it.” Hei said as he scooped her up.
Just as he picked her up, her eyes shot open as she shot into a strained coughing fit. Hei adjusted her position, Mella coughing until it turned into wheezing, air barely managing to get out of her lungs.
“She can’t breathe.” Brant said in panic, looking around realizing there was nothing to help them.
“She needs extra oxygen, she can’t breathe because of the air. Quickly, get her out of the hospital. I will search for a functional oxygen tank.” Hei said, carefully but quickly placing Mella in Brant’s arms.
Brant looked at Tryker for only a brief moment before shooting out of the File room. The door seemed so far away, the desperation to take Mella out of it seeming impossible. Mella gasped for air, her face turning from pale to blue as she struggled to bring in oxygen into her lungs. He continued to run, but the heavy satchel was pulling him down. He opened up his arm and let the satchel drop to the floor, he knew he would just come back to get it later.
Tryker glanced at the satchel Brant dropped before continuing to run, he noticed that, as the flap flew open, it was not medicine that rolled unto the ash covered hall tile, it was hospital files. He wanted to stop to observe, but like Brant, he would come back later once they cared for Cromella. He increased his speed, getting ahead of Brant to open the hospital doors. They were sliding doors, but the electricity was long gone, so Tryker had to pry them open again as he continued to run.
“Thank you!” Brant panted as he passed by Tryker out the door.
For a moment, Brant thought as soon as he got out of the hospital, she would be okay, but she continued gasping for air and there was still a quarter of a mile to get to the tent.
Tryker followed behind as Brant sped towards the tent appearing into view. It looked hidden in the dust, the color the same as the dirt. Instead of an army tent, this was going to be a temporary hospital one. Although, as he continued to run, the weight quickly slowed him down. Brant could feel his legs burning, his body begging to slow down, but he kept running, coming numb to the increasing acid adding up in his thighs. He had to get to the tent as quickly as possible no matter how much his body begged to rest and stop from the pain he was giving it.
Tryker had ran ahead and, as quickly as possible, opened the poles under the canvas to expand taller and more open. He finished just as Brant approached where he opened the tent flap and Brant placed Cromella on the bed. He almost threw her, a sigh of relief as she was in the place she was supposed to be.
She continued to gasp and Brant knew she merely only had a few seconds. He reached down, pulling his mouth to hers, forcing the oxygen into her lungs. Within a couple of minutes, Hei had found some form of oxygen, rushing over to assist the dying girl in the tent. It was not an oxygen tank, but it was a mask to push more oxygen into her lungs. Hei didn’t even hesitate when he knelt beside her and placed the mask on her face, doing whatever he could to save her.
“Did you find any painkillers?” Hei asked, not even looking up at Brant.
“I didn’t.” Brant responded, regretting he didn’t even search for any.
“I did.” Tryker mentioned.
“Good, ged it for her. Her lungs are bruised, it will help her breade better if she has pain killers. I could not find an oxyden tank, bud we must give extra oxygen to her every few minutes until I do find it. If I ever will.” Hei said as he squeezed the tube that pushed oxygen into her system.
Tryker scurried through his own satchel, rummaging through bottles until he pulled out the bottle of painkiller. With hands that were trying to move faster than they could function, he managed to get the cap open and pour a couple of pills into the palm of his hand. He handed it over to Hei, who took them and turned to Mella.
“And water?”
Brant saw a water bottle beside him and picked it up, handing it to Hei as well.
“Good, tank you. Now, go back to de hospital and find an oxygen tank. I will take care of de woman.”
Both Brant and Tryker nodded, stepping out of the tent and closing it shut. After the long run, neither of them could run any more. They merely walked, still trying to catch their breath as the dry air stung in their lungs. Their legs dragged across the ground, Brant’s arms just as exhausted from holding that much weight for so long.
Brant wasn’t really sure what to do. He hadn’t enough experience with hospital care, but he didn’t trust either Hei or Tryker. Working with the general, he had experienced dozens of traitors he thought he trusted. He refused to fully trust anyone and these two men he struggled to gain any form of trust. They may know him, but he had no recognition of who they were or how he met them. He didn’t recognize Tryker one bit and it made him question on whether Tryker himself was a spy from the other side.
“You probably would have found pain killer if you would have looked for it.” Tryker muttered, not even looking at Brant as they continued to walk.
“Excuse me?”
Tryker looked at Brant.
“Your satchel had no medicine in it. It made me question why you were in the supply room instead of elsewhere. You needed to find files, that’s what I saw. A satchel of files. Not medicine.”
“I was coming to the hospital for more than medical care.” Brant specified.
“Obviously, but if we weren’t there, Stella would have died because you didn’t even bother helping her.”
“She was not actually sick when I told you she was. Or at least, not what I knew at the time. She did get into an accident that broke a few ribs and gave her a minor concussion, but I had already taken care of it, she had been treated and well taken care of. She was doing fine until just now. I only told you what I thought was a lie because the files are classified for a different mission. When I went to search for the files, that was then that I noticed she really was sick. I had no idea she was actually ill until it was too late.”
“So you lied.”
“Indeed, but it was for safety. It was necessary at the time.” Brant said as they reentered the hospital.
“You didn’t trust us?” Tryker asked, not believing what he was hearing.
“No.” He said, not even looking over at Tryker to answer.
“I mean, it’s hard to trust when so many have deceived you, but you trained me yourself. You made me into the man I am today, I know how to fight because of you. Why would I turn against you?”
Brant sharply turned to him,
“Because I don’t remember you.”
Tryker shut his mouth. He distinctly remembered him, his trainer. He looked up to such a man and after seeing him by the hospital, he couldn’t believe it. Now here he was, the person he looked up to for so long, said he didn’t even remember him. Inside the young adult, Tryker’s soul seemed a bit crushed to realize he really wasn’t what he thought he was to Brant.
“How can you not remember me?” He asked in hurt.
“You were probably one of hundreds I had trained, there is no way I could remember every single one.”
“I was like your favorite student. I worked my guts out with you, you sent me on my first mission, you fought with me, you found me a partner and I went out to fight. How can you forget me?”
“I don’t know why and that’s what makes me hesitate. You could be telling me the truth and I just simply don’t remember because i’ve done so much since then, or it could be that you have such a good lie, it seems like you're telling the truth. But I. Don’t. Know. That’s why I struggle to trust you.”
Tryker was no older than twenty-five, he was trained some six years ago, to him, it wasn’t very long ago, but maybe it was to Brant. Either way, Tryker felt terrible to realize how much his own trainer distrusted him. Brant was his all time favorite, to Tryker, he would never forget him. Yet, Brant had forgotten him.
“Alright, well, if Hei and I save your girl, then will you trust us?”
“I would consider it, but it doesn’t just take a day to trust someone.” Brant said stubbornly, looking ahead at the hospital instead of at his, supposed, trainee.
“Of course. I know. But even after you’ve lied to me, Brant, even after you told me what you were really up to, I still trust you. So if I trust you, why don’t you trust us back?”
Brant didn’t want to talk about it. He had trust issues for a reason and he didn’t want to talk about it, no matter how desperate Tryker was to hear about his problems. Brant tried not to recall back to his past experiences, when he faced people he was so close to betray him like that. Leave him in the dust, losing the loyalty they had with him. He didn’t want to go through that, anyone he met he automatically distrusted. Nothing would gain their trust unless they did something out of a blue that absolutely proved of their loyalty.
But Tyrker wanted to know.
“What was your partner's name?” Brant asked as they entered one of the hospital rooms to hopefully find an oxygen tank.
“Covern Lipp.” Tryker responded, trying to open a locked closet. He didn’t even hesitate to say the unique name.
“Covern Lipp?”
“Yes, he was my partner for almost a year before he-”
“Died in combat.” Brant finished.
“So you remember Covern but not me?” Tryker asked very offended.
“I spoke at his funeral.”
Tryker stopped, pointing at himself.
“I was there, Brant, I was there at Covern’s funeral. How can you freaking forget?”
Brant heaved a sigh,
“I guess... now that I think about it, I think I do remember you.” Brant said as he opened a cupboard to find it empty inside. Brant turned to Tryker, “how old were you?”
“Twenty.”
“And how old are you now?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Five years ago. Yeah, maybe the fact why I don’t remember you is because you were so young then. Your face was thin, your eyes had seen much less than now, you had an innocent glow of someone who had never seen death before. I didn’t recognize you because you had changed so much. That’s why Tryker. You were someone else five years ago, that’s why it seemed to be that I didn’t remember you.”
Tryker gleamed inside, finally, something had triggered his memory. It made him ever more grateful that Brant had remembered some form of reasoning of forgetting him.
When they realized it was not in that room, they continued to check out the other rooms, but several were collapsed or completely empty, hollowed out by others or were disintegrated by the bomb.
“And what about Hei?” Brant asked as they stepped into a half collapsed hospital room, “how did you meet him?”
“After Covern’s death, I was given group missions. One of which was inside Hei’s village. I had to take the natives to see if any would join the army and if not, we would shoot them. The men were forced to join, but Hei was not one of them. He was the only one that volunteered before we even threatened.”
“How could he trust you after that then?”
“He hated his village. His mother was actually white, but he grew up with his native father. Although, he loved his mother more than his dad. He believed his mother when she kept telling him how terrible they were. He listened to her when she said how much she regretted marrying his dad, he was desperate to leave the village when we raided it.”
“Interesting.”
“Hey, I found an oxygen tank!” Tryker called, pulling out the metal tube from inside a closet.
They placed it on the bed, testing it if it still worked, but the gage gave zero.
“This won’t work.” Brant said disappointed.
They continued to search, finding several of the tanks, but some were either damaged or empty. They didn’t even bother checking the exploded part of the hospital, they knew there wouldn’t just be damaged oxygen tanks over there, but other things they wished to avoid.
Within a couple of hours, they had searched the hospital all of the way to the back end. They knew they were in a hurry to help Mella, but at the same time, they needed that moment to slow down. They finally found a tank that had some form of oxygen to at least last a few minutes, but it took them merely two hours to find it. They took it, Tryker carrying it as they made their way back to the doors and out towards the tent.
Hei was overjoyed when they found it. The little the tank had would have to do for now, accepting whatever they had available. Mella seemed to be breathing better, but her face looked so ill, a heavy sweat on her shivering body. Hei had bundled her up tight in blankets, dabbing her forehead with a warm rag. She had fallen back into unconsciousness again, so sick it hurt Brant inside. He had to keep her promise.
It was late evening now. Although Brant was increasingly tired, he could not rest as he saw what was happening to Mella. He could only hear her gasping for air, groaning in the midst of it. He felt like he wouldn’t be able to sleep until Cromella was fully recovered. He had so many mixed feelings and emotions going on in his head and as he recalled back to the rest of the day, it hurt his head. He couldn’t believe that all that had happened from saving Teuk to speaking with Rimana to trying to save Mella’s life at a bombed down hospital and two men he struggled to trust, was all in one day. He could barely grasp that fact that the long day had brought so much trouble into him.
Although, between all that had happened that day, something else troubled him.
He needed to get back to the general.
Chapter 13- A Servant of Two masters
Brant stayed for another two days, but he knew it was a risk for him as the general was waiting for his arrival three days ago. After bombing the jeep, he was supposed to go straight from there to the Ingostle church. That was both his and the General's plan. Then, the following day, he would take the train to meet Rohana and then stop at the hospital, get the files and report to the General that night. He was left with no other choice as the conflicts of a sick Ingostle and two soldiers kept him from reaching the General. He would have a lot of explaining to do with some lies to explain to the General why he delayed so long.
He couldn’t take Mella with him, not right now, not while she was in this state, but he couldn’t leave her. Although he was starting to trust Tryker and Hei a little more, he didn’t trust them enough to leave Mella completely alone with them for a few more days. There was so many situations he couldn’t fix. Whether he stayed or left, he was going to cause a problem one way or another. It was like serving two masters, leaving him with either choice A or choice B, never both.
“How is she doing?” Brant asked Hei as the native stepped out of the tent.
Although he had been there, he hadn’t seen Mella for several hours as Hei needed privacy to tend for her care.
“It’s hard to treat those with such trauma on her chest as de woman. Aldough, she may be back on her feet in about ten days.”
“Ten days?!”
“Bruised lungs is a long healing process let alone fractured ribs. I took de wrap off from around her chest for better breathing and have been giving her frequent pain killers. She sometimes doesn’t want to breathe because breathing hurts; to help her, the pair killer, the loosening of the bandages and the oxygen has helped her through her healing process. She is somewhat alright, but it could be better.”
Brant heaved a sigh. He was sitting on the ground next to Tryker, looking through the files he had brought back from the hospital, but he had ignored them as he was fully focused on the tall olive-skinned man standing above him. It was no longer a secret to the two, but because it was supposed to be a secret mission, they prevented from watching him as he looked through them.
“Before you go back in, Hei, I need to speak to both you and Tryker.” Brant said, pushing the files off to the side.
Brant got up to his feet, Tryker following after. They listened in and Brant took in a breath of air through his nose.
“I need to go.”
“Go? How do you mean?” Hei asked.
“I was given three tasks, the files at this hospital one of them. I was supposed to report back to the General three days ago. Well, if I wait any longer I, myself, may get killed if I’m not already dead.”
“What about de Ingostle?” Hei questioned.
“Well, that’s what I need to talk to you about. Obviously, she can’t come with me as she can barely stay conscious and breathe properly at the moment, but I can’t leave her for good. I’ll need to come back, but it may take me a few days to do so. That means I will be putting my complete trust on the two of you.”
“Yes, we understand.” Tryker said, part of the young man was thrilled that they were given the rights of trust from Brant, but he knew he would have to up his act to truly prove that he could be fully trusted to take in Mella while he was gone.
“Good. This is very big for me, I don’t want to leave her, but it sounds like I have no other choice. Tryker knows I’ve had some trust issues and this is something that will most definitely give you my full and complete trust. If I come back and you’ve hurt her in any way possible or done something that was not confirmed by me, you will face the consequences.”
“Consequence of what?” Tryker asked.
Brant sighed, he despised the word. He wished he would never say it, but he kept telling himself, deep in his head; ‘It’s necessary for the sake of the woman I promised to keep safe’.
“I will kill you both.” Brant prevented himself from cringing, knowing this was something he hoped he would never say.
Hei perfectly understood this threat, but Tryker seemed a bit more surprised. Tryker knew Brant, although a hard worker and as stubborn as a rock, he knew Brant wouldn’t kill someone unless it was absolutely necessary and with a very very good reason. He took this threat seriously, knowing they would have to protect Mella with their life.
“Alright then, Brant. You have our trust.” Tryker said.
“Indeed.” Hei agreed, tilting his head forward in agreement.
They both shook Brant’s hand to prove that they would keep his promise with their life.
“When will you leave?”
“As soon as possible. But before I go, I need to talk to her.”
“She is resting.” Hei mentioned.
“I understand, but whether she hears it or not, I need to let her know.”
“Very well.”
Hei opened the flap of the tent and Brant entered alone while Hei and Tryker remained outside.
Brant approached Mella, stroking her cheek. She looked so pasty, a heavy sweat still sticking to her forehead. All he wanted was to stay and make sure she would be alright, but he had to leave, he had to serve the other master.
“I have to go.” He started, whispering the words as he gazed down at her face, “I still have not broken your promise, I will come back as soon as I possibly can and I will take you to your father. I will have a good talk with the general, then I will come back and I will take you there. That’s a promise, Cromella. Tryker and Hei will take care of you, my full trust is on them, but I will not allow them to hurt you in any other way.”
Brant heaved another sigh, closing his eyes. To leave was too difficult as he saw the unconscious woman beside him. He gazed back down at her and ran the back of his hand on her cheek.
“Get better soon.” He added as he kissed her gently on the forehead.
Brant got up, just about to leave, but he was stopped as he heard a whisper.
“Brant…” The whisper was faint and under the breath, but he knew where it had come from.
Inside, it hurt, emotionally and mentally he was not okay. He exited the tent and, gathering the files into his satchel and passing Tryker and Hei on the way, he left.
He took the midnight train to the city. The leather seat was uncomfortable and his mind was heavy on the Ingostle he just left. As soon as he arrived, he found an abandoned apartment where he settled in for the night. He could probably afford a better place to stay, but his money was stashed up safely elsewhere. He preferred somewhere where he could avoid people and sleep alone.
The night was restless, as he dreamed of Mella and the General. Anything that could go bad happened in his dreams, the nightmare adding to the nightmare he was already having. It all started with Hei and Tryker hurting Mella, leaving her dying in his arms. Then her death, her dead body dangling as he held her in tears, her lifeless body crushing his soul. He cried for what seemed like hours in this nightmare, he had fallen to his knees still holding her until she disappeared and he was kneeling by her grave. Engraven under her name said:
A Promise He didn’t Keep
He continued to cry until the General stepped on the flowers placed neatly in front of her grave. Next thing he knew, he was getting shoved into jail in the same cell as General Westwood. General Westwood, beaten up and rotting in his cell glared over at him and with a shrill cry, he said:
“You’ll break her promise if you keep this up. Better just give up, you’re better off dead now!”
Next thing he knew, he was running down the street shooting every single person visible because Mella was dead. He screamed as he shot until he was standing in a city of dead bodies. Then, he heard a final shot that didn’t belong to his own gun. He gazed down at his chest, a bloody hole directly where his heart was and looked over at General Kyhro.
He woke up trembling, screaming with a heavy cold sweat smothering his entire body. He was still breathing, but the images in his head couldn’t leave him. Brant was grateful he was alone, but the pain of such a nightmare left him in tears. For several minutes, he trembled, forcing his mind to get it out of his thoughts, but they still lingered. It dragged on and on in his head, tears and sweat covering his face.
He got up to his feet, but they could barely move as he struggled to make his way towards his satchel. He pulled out his canteen, his hands trembling as he tried to pour water into his increasingly dry mouth, hoping the moisture would sooth him in some possible way. He leaned his head back to pour the water, but he could barely focus to where it was going and the water missed his mouth. He shook his head, the water falling next to him and pouring out across the cement floor underneath. When he realized he couldn’t even take a gulp of water, he quickly returned back to his corner where he wrapped himself tight in the thin blanket he had. He didn’t rest for the rest of the night. He merely stayed wide awake, deep thoughts keeping him alert for any possible outcome that may come in his unknown future. Any noise frightened him, making him jump in fear, but the silence horrified him. It merely reminded him that Mella was not in with him, he was alone and it gave him remorse for what he had done.
When daylight barely hit the valley, Brant shot out of the apartment. All the old building reminded him of now, was the fact that Mella wasn’t with him and he wanted to escape. He found himself sitting alone at an urban bakery across the street, his eyes barely managing to stay open as he stood in front of the cashier. He could barely afford a pastry, but when the baker looked at the miserable sleep deprived man in front of him, he gave it to him with the money he had.
Brant ate it slowly, his head still dazed in other thoughts. He sat under the trellis of the welcoming bakery, barely thinking before he sunk his teeth slowly into the pastry. He wanted to sleep, but his mind told him that he would merely return to that nightmare if he did so. He continued eating, sitting in deep thought, so numb to anything surrounding him.
“Is that Brant?” Brant stopped eating and snapped out of his thoughts, looking over at the woman talking.
He was hoping to never see her again, but it looked like she had long forgiven him as she approached him. What confused him more, though, was the fact that she had said his real name. He never told her his real name, he gave her his fake name; Jach. Yet, as the freckled faced woman ran over to him in excitement, it confused him ever more.
“Hello Rohana.” He said, barely looking surprised as his mind refused to function correctly.
Rohana took a seat across from him, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her electric blue eyes short directly through his, a welcoming smile on her lips. Part of Brant wished he accepted her presence better than he did, but his mind merely told him to sleep and not talk to anyone.
“You know,” She started, swirling her coffee in her cup, “I considered what you told me on that train. I’m sorry I overreacted, it’s been hard since he died and I didn’t want to bring it back up again.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that too. It was my fault, I was getting too far into personal business.” Brant managed to say.
“I don’t blame you though, my husband was a wonderful man. After his death I could barely grasp of even hearing his name. I didn’t know then...that you were his brother you know. I had barely knew who you were and you knew so much and it was so terrifying… I couldn’t take it in, not then. Who could know so much of my husband and myself yet I had never met him before in my life? It wasn’t until afterwards, I had caught your real name. I managed to get a hold of the records of the seating arrangement on the train. That was when I realized what your name was. Brant. There I realized that you were his brother, my… brother-in-law. You knew so much because you were family. Now I understand why you got into such business about my husband, it was because you had to know. I understand that you needed to find out more about my husband because he was your family too. After I realized what all had happened, I quickly forgave you. I understand now, Brant, and I’m so sorry I reacted the way I did.”
“You’re a very smart woman, Rohana.” Brant complimented.
She blushed.
“Thank you-”
At first, she looked away embarrassed, but she snapped out of it as she actually got a good look at Brant. Her blushing turned to concern as she observed his scruffy tired look.
“Oh Brant, you look terrible. What have you done since I’ve last seen you?”
“Long story.” He muttered, running his fingers through his dust crusted hair.
He suddenly wanted to avoid her eye contact. He didn’t want to explain the story, he just wanted to be left alone.
“Where’s your wife?”
“She’s actually not my wife. Did you notice what she was wearing? She’s an Ingostle, she can’t even marry. I’ve been trying to help her, but she hasn’t been doing so great. I had to leave her with a couple of friends so I could speak to the General. I ah... promised to come back.”
“It looks like you have a lot of things heavy in your mind.” She said, turning her head so she could look into Brants eyes.
“Indeed.” He answered, shoving his face into his filthy hands.
He had no idea how miserable he was looking until he had stepped into the city where he looked filthy compared to the clean city folk walking down the streets. The lack of sleep in an abandoned apartment did not help.
Rohana placed her hand on his shoulder.
“I live just down the street. Let’s get you cleaned up and maybe you can actually get some rest.”
Brant shook his head.
“I have to see the General.”
“He won’t want to see you in this. He can wait a few hours.”
Brant sighed, he needed food, he needed to be cleaned up, he needed rest. He’d hadn’t slept for days, it wasn’t just last night, last night was merely a very restless one.
“Very well then.”
Rohana stood up.
“Come on then, you might as well meet your niece too.”
Brant got up, following Rohana out of the cafe. She didn’t get a cab like expected, she just kept walking and Brant continued to follow.
She lived in a white brick apartment, vines growing across the outside walls. She lived maybe a block from the cafe and it seemed pleasant for someone such as her to be living in. It had two old double doors to the apartment that were probably a hundred years old and in entering, the halls gave off a musty smell of mold and decaying wood. The floors creaked under Brant’s feet, and dust lingered through the air as they made their way down the hall. Rohana pulled out her apartment key as they approached door with the number: 14 on it. The apartment door opened to a quaint room, lit up in baby blues and white. A picture of Brant’s brother in his uniform stood on a small nightstand, a framed flag beside it and his dog tags stacked neatly next to the small shrine. The bed was a king, but only a half was unmade and it seemed like only half the room was cluttered. She scurried to pick up toys and clothes, apologizing as she threw them into their rightful places as quickly as she could.
“Sorry about the clutter, Landi was playing with her neighbor before she went next door and I went over to the cafe.”
“Why is it only half the room?”
“With our tiny apartment, to have Tean working with toys around him did not work out very well. We left a section of the room for him to work, since he died, we’ve kind of kept that half clean for him.”
“Tean was a very respectful man.”
“Indeed, and we’ve tried to keep that respect. Even Landi keeps from playing on his side of the room.”
Across the bedroom, a toddler bed had it’s own little corner. Purple and Blue showed a very bright children’s environment, toys scattering the rainbow rug beside the bed and a tiny dresser where colorful clothes strung out of the drawers and fell unto the floor. It was more like a hotel room as it didn’t really have separate rooms for privacy, it was merely a large open space with maybe one door for the bathroom.
Rohana approached another corner where the kitchen was, where she started cracking eggs into a pan. Brant took a seat at the modern table, running his finger across the smooth surface. Although the apartment was old, Rohana kept her apartment well updated, the walls freshly painted, the furniture new and clean, she seemed to take care of her home very nicely.
“How do you like your eggs?” She asked as Brant heard the sizzling of the egg on the pan.
“Scrambled please.”
Rohana worked at the eggs as Brant continued to observe the apartment. Although small, it was quite roomy and open with its several windows, brightening up the tiny apartment. He wouldn’t mind to live in such a homey place, even within the clutter, it all was pleasant.
Rohana placed a plate of eggs and toasted biscuits and he thanked her as he gratefully ate them, finally feeling satisfied as the pastry did not fill him up very much earlier. Halfway through his breakfast meal, a little girl opened the front baby blue door, a smile on her tiny face. Landi ran up to her mother, Rohana bending over as she hugged her daughter.
She released her mother and pulled out a wilted flower from her jacket pocket.
“Look what Rehi gave me! Isn’t it pretty?”
“It’s beautiful Landi.”
Landi laughed. She looked a lot like her mother, large electric blue eyes, curly blond hair that lied neatly on her narrow shoulders, but she had the face of her dad. Brant could recognize that face anywhere, she smiled like Tean, everything about her face seemed to remind Brant too much of his dead brother.
Although Brant didn’t notice when Landi turned her glance from her mother to directly at his face. It was a look of confusion, trying to see what was wrong. To her, the man standing in front of her looked almost just like her dad, but there was something different about him too.
She cocked her head.
“Dad?”
It hurt him to realize she thought maybe he was her dad. He wondered how much Rohana had told her young daughter? To have her seem so confused as if Brant was her father just crushed his soul. If only her real father was around for her to see again.
“I’m afraid not Landi, but I am your dad's brother.” Brant managed to say.
Rohana bent down and pointed at Brant.
“Landitha, this is uncle Brant.”
“Uncle?”
“Daddy’s brother.”
Landi approached Brant, observing him closer.
“Mommy says daddy has been missing, do you know where daddy went?”
There, Brant understood all that Rohana had told her daughter. She was too young to understand that he dad was dead, but at the same time, she needed to know. Landi was no older than four, but to Brant, it was old enough for her to know exactly what really happened to her father. He heaved a sigh, he wanted to tell her, but that was her mother's choice to find the time to tell her.
“I’m afraid not.”
A frown grew on the four year old girl's face and Brant could see the hurt in Rohana’s face as well. It hurt her just as much to realize she would have to soon tell her what really happened to Landi’s father.
Although, the disappointment in the little girl's face didn’t last long as she grew with excitement.
“Come play with me, Uncle brant!”
“Uncle Brant can’t play right now, he has to clean up. Maybe he can after.” Rohana told her daughter.
Once again the disappointment returned to the girl's face and she dragged her feet to her kitty corner, picking up a doll and playing with her hair.
Rohanna looked over at Brant with concern.
“I know I have to tell her eventually.”
“The time will come, at the moment though, maybe it would better off to keep it a secret.”
“What if that moment never comes? She could be ten years old and may still think he’s just missing.”
“It will have to be soon.” Brant said, looking over at Lindi on the floor with her toys, “well, I guess I better get cleaned up.”
“I’m not going to let you go out of my apartment until you are clean and well rested alright?” She asked sternly, but it was also teasingly, a grin on her face.
Brant held a thumbs up.
“As you wish, mother.” He teased back, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
He looked around at the simple full bathroom, realizing the last time he took a shower was at a public gym shower some several days ago. He was well paid, he could afford a house, food, hygiene, but he was moving around so often, he just kept a few dollars in his pocket and the rest was left in the bank. With cabs and train, by the time he arrived back in the city, he had only a couple of dollars. He was merely broke by the time he pulled out the remaining money for that simple pastry.
He spent several minutes in the bathroom, taking a refreshing shower, grooming his hair. Rohana had handed him a new set of new clean clothes and as Brant slipped them on, he felt somewhat uncomfortable. They fit perfectly, it wasn’t the fit that made him feel this way, it was the fact that they were his dead brother’s clothes. Tean wore these exact clothes all of the time, Brant couldn’t just decide to wear what his dead brother once wore.
Rohana looked nearly breathless, looking back when Tean wore that as Brant stepped out of the bathroom. She approached him, adjusting the collar of his button up. He could see the sorrow in her eyes as she saw the clothes her dead husband once wore. She heaved a sigh and patted his chest up by his shoulder.
“Thank you for giving me a change of clothes,” Brant said as he gazed down at the woman in front of him, “but if this is too much for you, I can just wear my original clothes and I can return these back to you right now.” Brant said, slipping on his brown leather jacket.
“Your clothes are already in the wash. Keep them. I needed to get rid of them anyway.”
Brant didn’t know what to say. He could see it in her eyes, but at the same time, it seemed like she enjoyed seeing someone wearing these clothes again. Brant adjusted his jacket over the baby blue button up that was once his brothers.
“You are too kind. Thank you for your hospitalization, Rohana, but I need to go see the general now. Maybe I’ll visit you when I return.”
Her face seemed to glow when Brant said those last words,“that would be wonderful. Good luck, Brant. And... please be safe. Protect that girl with your life, she deserves you.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter 14- Truth and Lies
Brant stepped out of the apartment, the satchel over his shoulder and a clean shaven face. The General would be in his naval office on the other end of the city, so he went down the street to the bank, grabbed a little more cash and caught a cab to the other side of the city.
It took about half an hour before the cab came to a stop in front of the plain but intimidating building. Although it was small, the brick was dark and stained, the windows held bars and a large, electric fence around the outskirts of the naval office. He heaved a sigh, entering through the barred doors to be approached by a security guard.
Brant showed the International Spy badge to the security guard without even stopping, continuing to walk down the hall where he went straight to General Khyro’s office. He barely gave a knock before entering into the office, swinging the door open. Inside, the office was dark, the desk large and intimidating in the yellow light. As for the chairs, they didn’t look any way comfortable, they were simple and metal, the chairs scattered in front of the desk from ongoing meetings throughout the day. The office was neat, but very boring, nothing but a lamp on the desk and a few chairs. Brant had been in this room hundreds of times, to him, he hated the cold draft room that had no feeling of welcome inside. He didn’t sit, he merely stood there in front of the desk, the General sitting at his desk with a pencil in hand.
General Khyro was not what to expect a general to be. He was quite thin, his face narrow with a pointed nose that could probably stab people if they got too close to it. He had oily brown hair that seemed to almost cover his eyes as it fell in a bowl cut around his oblong head, looking like it had never been washed for days. Although his looks were of surprise for a man such as the General, he was terrorizing. His eyes were stern underneath the tiny circular glasses and his thin lips didn’t seem to ever smile, let alone even show his yellowing crooked teeth underneath. When Brant entered, his face did not change, he just inhaled through his nose, straightening in his stiff chair.
“Sorry of my late arrival, I had some… obstacles.”
“Four days, Brant.” He said sternly.
“I’m sorry General.” He apologized again.
“You better have a better explanation of all of this to have obstacles that took you four days to do so.” His emotion had not changed since Brant entered, but inside, there was definite anger underneath that neutral face.
“To make long story short, General, there were terrorists at the hospital where I had to gather the files you asked for. To keep undercover, I was hidden away for those few days until it was clear enough.”
“Alright, so there was terrorists, expected. Why are you so clean shaven and nicely dressed then?”
“Before I arrived here, I stayed at my sister-in-laws over the night. She wouldn’t let me leave until I was cleaned up.” Brant said, knowing that part of truth was safe to tell.
General Khyro inhaled yet another large breath through his nose and leaned further back into his stiff leather chair.
“Good enough. Now tell me, Brant, what information do you have for me?”
Brant reached into his satchel and dumped the files on his desk. General Khyro didn’t seem to appreciate such a mess piled up on his clean desk, but it was what he needed. He opened up one of the files, searching through the papers inside for that specific person..
“I found about fifty files, most all of them should be most likely alive. They were on the side of the hospital where the bomb was not. Their records say they’re very strong in their field and we could probably recruit them as you thought.” Brant explained as the General moved on to another file.
“And what about Rohana?”
“She’s considering. She may be able to help us with what she knows, but she was never into combat… and she has a daughter.”
“Because of her husband, she knows much more information than probably any of us. After Tean’s death, all that information he gathered from the other side was lost. She may even know as much as General Westwood himself, but we don’t know. That’s why I want to recruit her.”
“I don’t know if she wants to get into this mess though. She struggled losing her husband, I’m not sure how much she would appreciate-”
Finally, the General returned his gaze back up at Brant, but they were stern and it brought a tiny shiver up his spine.
“Mess? You think we are in a mess? If you think we are in a mess, why don’t you just fix it? Recruiting Rohana will probably get us out of this so-called MESS!”
“General-”
“That’s enough, Lieutenant. I don’t care how much she will agree, we need her. I’ll throw her in a cell and torture it out of her if I need to, but we aren’t just going to forget about her and continue on.”
Brant nodded, knowing he shouldn’t argue from direct orders.
“Alright, I’ll talk to her some more.” Brant said.
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear from you. I don’t doubt you one bit that you can get this done. Now what about Polei?”
Brant gulped, that was something he struggled to think back to, even if he had to change up the story for a bit. The General had known him for so long, lying was something he knew he would never do. This time, he had no other choice. He disobeyed his commands the first time, he didn’t want the General to know he didn’t again.
“The jeep was bombed. The two that were in there were seriously injured, I left them. And-”
“I heard the rest of it.” The General said, Brant’s heart stopping for a moment. Did Kiam tell him anyway, “Polei doesn’t dare leave the town, so we may have them like we wanted.”
“They also doubled the guards around.” Brant specified, grateful it had nothing to do with his lie.
“Yes, that would be expected. It’s been hard to fight when the other side has more men, but I think we have better weapons.”
Brant knew the General was trying to sound optimistic, but they hadn’t one many of the battles and it was obvious that their side was losing. General Khyro was a sore loser, he’d been trying to figure out how to win, but in order to know how to win, he needed to know what the other side did.
“So you’ve got Polei nearly stranded, you’ve got information from Rohana and possible recruiters from the hospital. I did what you ask me, now I’ve got something to tell you.”
General Khyro leaned forward, weaving his fingers together. His grey eyes shot into Brant’s, waiting for his response.
“Go on.”
“Well, I believe I may have found someone who can get the General to talk.”
Brant cringed as the General’s face turned dark in anger. The room seemed to get colder than it already was, the lamp seeming to dim as, what seemed like, dark clouds had formed in the room filled with the anger of the General. He slammed his hands flat on his desk and stood up, Brant jumping a bit, but trying to remain calm.
“Brant, there has been hundreds who have tried but failed! How can this other person persuade the general any more?!”
“She…” Brant gulped, trying to prevent his voice from trembling, “she is extremely persuasive, General. She is not intimidating, but how she talks, what she does, she can get anything out of anyone whether it is a General or not.”
The General sneered, sitting back down. The intensity in the room seemed to settle and Brant felt a tiny bit of relief come off his shoulders.
“I don’t believe you.”
“She did it on me, General. That’s how I know how good she is.”
The general gave it some thought, tapping his chin. He looked up at Brant.
“General Westwood is a stubborn man, I just want to kill him already, but I have to keep him alive. He has a secret, of how he won the battles but I don’t know how he did it. That’s all I want from him. Although, nobody can get it out of him.” General Khyro’s sharp eyes shot back to Brant, “Tell you what. You get the woman to persuade the general to speak, but if she will be like several others and not get anything out of him... then I’ll kill her.”
Brant nearly broke inside. He hesitated, standing there in his own thoughts. He promised her, yet he didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t want her to die just because he agreed to something she wasn’t even there for.
“I’ll need to talk to her.”
“Well, you believe in her, why do you hesitate?”
“I absolutely believe she can do it, I have no doubt about it. Although, because of the slight chances of not, I don’t want to see her death.”
“It seems she may be a bit more than just an acquaintance, Lieutenant. It could have been her Charasma that probably got to persuade you for all I know. A significant other perhaps?”
“Sir, she’s an Ingostle. She has no intention of love.”
“I don’t think it much matters though, Lieutenant. I have met and seen dozens of Ingostles and they are filled with Charisma, I don’t see her to be any different. I doubt General Westwood would comply by devotion of an attractive woman.”
“I have no intention of using her by her complexion. She’s unique, so don’t expect her to be like other Ingostles. Her form of persuasion was of a different style.”
General Khyro heaved a sigh, the veins on the side of his head pulsing as he considered.
“How long do you need before she comes to… persuade?”
“Well, I’ll first need to talk to her, but she needs a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks?!” General Khryo shouted, slamming a single hand on his desk again.
“Indeed… the situation is complicated.”
“Either she does it now or never.”
“She’s unable to do it now.”
“Than a week.”
“Only a week?”
“Nothing longer you hear? If there is no way, I guess it’s not meant to be.”
Brant heaved a sigh.
“A week then.”
“Good. As for the information you gathered from Rohana, I’d like to talk in a more private place. Later today in the private room. Five, how does that sound?”
“Anytime works for me. Five is fine.”
“See you at five then.”
Brant didn’t much appreciate talking about Rohana so privately. It was more of what to do about her than what she said. He despised the fact that he had to return back to her apartment to talk to her about this. To recruit her because of all she knew. Tean was a spy like Brant, an air force spy specifically. Occasionally they would partner up as both had their own knowledge of both the air and ground. He was with Tean when he was killed, the mission that changed Brant. That was the time when he officially decided to no longer kill any more people. So many people died that night including his brother. Tean was four years older than Brant, yet he seemed to know twenty years worth of information compared to Brant. That was why Rohana was so important, she would know what Tean would know, as he had promised to her to tell her everything when they eloped five years ago.
As Brant left the Private room and stepped out into the street. He had just called for a cab a few minutes earlier, so he would wait for it and return to Rohana’s apartment. He wasn’t going to return back to the hospital until he spoke with his sister-in-law. No matter how much he wanted to, he needed to follow the orders directly from his General. He just hoped Mella was recovering alright.
When the cab arrived, Brant adjusted his empty satchel on his shoulder and set off again out to Rohana’s.
When he knocked at their door, Rohana took a moment to open the door. She was smothered in tears, her hand clutching on her cell phone.
Something was wrong.
Brant shut the door, entering her tiny home.
“Rohana, is something the matter?”
Rohana burst into more tears as she sat down at her square table.
“I knew it was going to be hard, but who would have thought a four year old would do that?”
Brant, with deep concern sat down across from her, holding her hands.
“Where’s Landitha?”
Rohana screamed, slamming her phone on the table and digging her face in her hands.
“I told her Brant. I told her that her father was dead, that he was never missing. I finally told her that he wouldn’t be coming home, ever, because he was gone. It hurt me to see that face, especially to see that face on such a young child. Even if I waited, it wouldn’t have mattered, she would have reacted just the same. At first, it was just tears of disbelief, but I kept telling her that it was a truth and she threw a fit. She sat on the ground and screamed for her dad, but I had to tell her in my own tears that he was gone. I needed the restroom to release the tears, so I ran into the bathroom and shut the door. I was only in there for just a moment before I stepped out… and she was gone. She ran off, right out the door.”
“Why haven’t you gone looking for her?” Brant asked.
“Because I don’t know where she went. I checked our neighbors, I checked the entire apartment. I checked the backyard, I checked the playground, I checked the street. Nowhere. I called the police and they’ve been looking for her all day… Brant, I don’t know what to do. She’s missing, my only daughter is missing only because I told her the terrible truth.”
Brant shot up to his feet.
“For goodness sake, Rohana, she’s four. She wouldn’t have gone far. What are other places that she’s been that you haven’t checked?”
Rohana shook her head, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.
“I’ve checked everywhere Brant.”
Brant clenched his fist, she was only four years old, why would she run off like that. Though as it went silent with Rohana’s quiet weeping and the silence of the missing child, he did hear something.
“Did you check anywhere inside the apartment?”
“What?”
Brant turned his head to the upset mother.
“What made you think she ran out the door?”
“The door was open.”
Brant held her shoulders.
“Did you check any of the room?”
“Ah… no, I darted out the door as soon as I saw it open. I knew she had ran out.”
Brant released her shoulders and approached the closet next to Rohana’s bed, swinging open the tiny door. At first Rohana wasn’t sure, but she could hear the tiny quiet breaths of the sleeping girl behind the clothes, her little four-year old bare feet sticking out from the long dress and coats that hung to the floor.
“Oh heavens.” She cried in relief, running over to her daughter, falling to her knees as she pushed the clothes out of the way.
There she was, sleeping with her flushed face covered in dried tears, her body curled up inside the closet. She reached over and picked her daughter up, carrying her over to her bed and tucking the blanket over her slumbering body.
Rohana, now in tears of relief, turned to Brant.
“How did you know?”
“I have an ear for listening to certain things. Although quiet, I could hear her breathing inside the closet. Rohana, I don’t think she opened the door. I noticed as I left that the door doesn’t like to stay closed. I must have not closed hard enough when I left this morning, that was my fault in that end. As for your daughter. It’s not natural for a four year old to run out the door as far as she can. A child as young as she would hide when she’s upset.”
“I swear she ran out the door.”
“She was in the apartment the entire time.”
“I’m so grateful she was here the whole time!”
Rohana wrapped her arms around her brother in-law, crying in his shoulder. She needed some form of comfort and Brant accepted it. Holding her close as she wept
He stayed at Rohana’s that night, sleeping on her couch. He would wait and talk to her in the morning about why he was really there, but he knew that night wasn’t the right time.
He slept the best he had ever slept in days on that couch. It wasn’t an expensive couch, but for some reason, with all of his nights in a sleeping bag and nights on hard surfaces, the couch was like a luxury bed. When he woke up the next day, he was greeted with a fresh smell of hotcakes and milk. He sat at the table, Rohana silent as she ate her breakfast. Landi didn’t seem overly upset, but her night of tears left an aftermath of grogginess as she ate away at her hotcake. Maybe she had forgotten what she had heard last night.
That thought had vanished quickly when Landi burst into tears again. She didn’t scream this time, but she started to whimper.
“Daddy’s dead.” She cried.
Rohana had froze up, sitting there not even moving. She just stared at her daughter, unsure if this sorrow would ever end. She gazed down at her food and placed her fork on her plate. Rohana shot up to her feet and gathered up the dishes even though Brant wasn’t finished eating his and left to the kitchen.
Brant patted Landi on the back.
“Why don’t we go play, I can read you a book.”
Landi shook her head.
“I don’t want to read a book.”
“What about… playing with your dolls or playing house.”
Landi looked up at Brant,
“I don’t want to play house.”
“What about dolls?”
She shook her head again.
“I want to play with daddy!”
“Landi.” Rohana managed to say, struggling herself from breaking into more tears. She herself was increasingly groggy and everything seemed to upset her, “why don’t you and uncle Brant go and get the mail for mommy.”
Landi sniffed.
“Okay.” She hopped off her chair and held Brant’s hand as they left the apartment door.
The PO box was just across the street, shared with another apartment next door. Landi seemed to know which one was theirs as she approached A14, holding the keys her mother had handed her. She gazed up at Brant, placing the keys in his hand.
“Why don’t you open it?”
“Because I don’t know how to.”
Brant knelt down,
“Then I’ll show you.”
He placed the key back in her little hand and guided the key to the slot in the box. She was still holding the key, but he held her hand as they turned the key together and pulled open the door. Inside, there was maybe a single envelope that was probably just trash and a roll of newspaper. Landi held the tiny bit of mail and they went together back to room 14 in the old white apartment.
Landi seemed to brighten up just a tiny bit as she handed her mother the mail, but she could still see the disappointment in her face. She was still thinking about her dad. Rohana turned to Brant, hoping the mail would get it off her mind, but it didn’t seem to be working and Landi broke into tears again.
“She’ll get over it, Rohana. She just needs a little bit.” Brant tried.
“I can’t handle her like this now. I don’t know what to do.”
Brant sighed, rubbing the child's blond head.
“Find something to get her mind off.”
“Like what?” Rohana asked.
Brant shrugged his shoulders, “like maybe take her on a little adventure.”
Rohana gazed back down at her daughter and a tiny laugh came out of her mouth. She returned back to Brant.
“Brant, an adventure? Where can I take a four year old on an adventure?”
“Not I, Rohana, we are going on an adventure.”
“Don’t you have that Ingostle girl waiting for you though?”
“She’s being well taken care of. I told her I would return in a few days. I want to help you right now.”
“Where would we go then?” Rohana asked.
“I was thinking maybe… ice cream and a fair.”
“And what fairs would we have in Rumbeig?” Rohana asked with her arms folded.
“Well, I know there is one in Ghotto.”
“That’s half an hour away.”
“I’ll play for gas.” Brant said with a grin.”
The first place they went to was an old ice cream shot on the edge of town. As a child, Brant went there with his friends all of the time. Now it wasn’t so popular, as it was so close to where they bombed Rumbeig a couple of years ago. When they entered the ice cream shop, Landi grew with excitement as she saw the different flavors and chose the most colorful one of the options.
“I want that, mommy!”
With a joyful smile on the cashier’s face, he served Landi a giant cone that seemed larger than she and she held it with utter glee in her little hands. They sat at a table by a large window, a perfect view of the memorial of the bombing. It wasn’t the best spot, but Landi didn’t seem to care about the view as her perspective was mostly on her giant mound of ice cream in her hands.
“Thank you for doing this for her.” Rohana said as she took her last bite of frozen banana yogurt in her cup.
“I didn’t want your daughter to be sad any more, but what I wanted to see more was to see you smile.”
Rohana’s eyes sparkled as she looked over at him, a smile growing on her face.
When they left the ice cream shop, they took a bus to Ghotto. As it drove down the main street of the smaller city, Landi grew with excitement as she saw the fair.
“Mommy, look! Look at the animals!” She screamed, pointing at the merry-go-round in the center of the entire fair.
That was where they went first, Landi riding on a bear as it went around in circles. Brant and Rohana sat in a bench behind her, cheering for her as she screamed of joy on her bouncing bear. Brant was happy to see Rohana smile for once, looking at her gleeful daughter. For once, she had a moment where she herself was happy. As the song continued on and the merry-go-round kept circling, Rohana placed her head on his shoulder, sighing in the relief.
Once that ride was over, all Landi wanted to do was to play. One stand had a bucket of rubber duckies and depending on the number Landi would choose, she would get a certain size of stuffed animal. Brant paid two tickets and Landi quickly picked a fuchsia rubber ducky, growing with excitement as she saw a number on the bottom. Although she had no idea what the number meant, when the Lady there handed her a plush bright pink duck, she screamed with more joy.
As night came, they returned home excited and exhausted. Landi had fallen asleep in the cab and Brant carried her to her bed, holding her duck close as he tucked her under the covers.
“Thank you again Brant, I have never been this happy for a long time. It definitely helped Landi so much.”
“It looked like the experiment worked on you too.” Brant said.
“I guess I needed that. But why, Brant, why would you spend all day with me just for that? I understand you wanted to make me happy, but there is more to this than what the eye can see.”
Brant heaved a sigh, sitting on the arm of her couch.
“Well… I talked to the General.”
“And?”
“He ah… he needs you to meet with him.”
“To recruit me right?” She said, her joy bringing down to disappointment.
“Well… yes, that’s exactly why. Because of Tean, you know so much valuable information. We need to win this war, but with how this war is going so far, it doesn’t sound like we’re going to even get close to winning.”
“I have no intention in being part of the war, Brant. I got myself into it and it got my husband killed. We’ve already had this conversation, why would you think I would change my mind?”
“Don’t you want this war to end? For us to win?”
“Of course, but I think General Khyro can do it without me.”
“Tean was a wonderful spy, he knew so much that I knew he told you. You have all the information that maybe Tean didn’t get to us.”
“You don’t know that. All that he told me was what he told the General. Like I said, Brant, I don’t want to be in any part of this. You probably have everything you need, I don’t want to be recruited.”
Brant, in distress, ran his fingers through his brown hair and returned his gaze back at Rohana.
“Alright, let me rephrase this. So far, one of the very few battles we’ve won, Tean was the one who led them. You know Tean better than the rest of us, how did he do it? The General wants you to show his men how Tean did it.”
Rohana still shook her head.
“Brant, you’ve known Tean longer than I, why don’t you tell him?”
“Because he didn’t get into power until we were adults. Although I’ve partnered up with him, I don’t even know how he did it. I’m sure you probably do.”
“Of course I do, but I’m not going to lead men into battle. That’s ridiculous and… and I’ve got a daughter.”
“I understand, but the General won’t let me go anywhere until you agree.”
“So that’s what this was all about? Make my day to ruin it by the end huh?”
Brant stood up.
“No, that was never the intention.”
“Than what was it?”
“I wanted to gain your trust.”
There was a moment of silence as Rohana stared at him in disbelief. She looked away from him, walking around the counter as she held the back of her neck with both her hands.
“Alright, I’ll tell the General everything Tean told me and how he won the war, but I am not going to lead it. He will know everything I know, but I will not get recruited you hear?” She snapped.
“Understood.”
She nodded.
“Well, I’m going to get ready for bed. If you have anything else to talk to me about, talk about it in the morning.”
“I’ll report to the general in the morning as well.”
Rohana gave a firm nod and marched off into the bathroom, taking a shower before she set off to bed.
Brant would take one in the morning. With no pajamas, he wrapped a blanket around himself and fell asleep before Rohana had even stepped out of the bathroom.
As morning came, Landi was up and running, playing with her toys with a big smile on her face. Rohana seemed more on the brighter side as well, even if she did have to talk to the General. Brant couldn’t stay long, he left once he ate and changed again. He ran out the door clutching his leather jacket, making sure he fully closed the door before he left the apartment room.
He took a cab to the General's office, once again entering his cold drafty room. General Khyro was pleased to see Brant returning to him, but Brant wasn’t overly thrilled of telling him the change of plans.
He made it short, getting to the point of what Rohana wants. It would still help the General, but she wasn’t going to get recruited into it. The General’s pleasure seemed to vanish by the end, but he seemed okay that Rohana at least agreed on telling him everything. It was better than nothing.
The meeting was not long, all Brant wanted to do was to return back to Mella. He felt like he was too long already and part of it was the delay of taking them to the fair, but that wasn’t for pleasure, it was to help Rohana and her daughter and also gain her trust before committing her into this war mess.
The General wanted to meet up with Rohana as soon as possible, so Brant called her to let her know. She thanked him and Brant left, taking another cab to the train.
He took the first train that arrived and took the couple of hours to the hospital, where he walked the three quarters of a mile to the tent. Anxiety filled his gut of the unknowns. Was Mella okay? Was the recovering or was she worse? So many questions filled his head as he approached the flap of the tent. Neither Tryker or Hei were outside of the tent, so he could only assume they were in the tent or inside the hospital.
He opened the flap, hoping to see Mella, but neither of the three were in there. In panic, he rushed back out.
“Mella!!!!!” he screamed, not even hesitating to call out for the hurt girls name.
He rushed over to the hospital, hearing everything in silence inside the dusty abandoned building.
“Cromella!” When Brant realized he wasn’t able to get Mella, he called for Tryker or Hei, but he heard nothing through his keen ears.
Would they all be in a better room than the tent? They wouldn’t let Mella in the hospital though, she would have had to either stay in the tent or around it. Brant searched around to the other rooms and even the bombed area, but there was still neither Tryker, Hei or Cromella.
When he continued to hear silence, anger started to build up. Where did they go? Not only that, what did they do with Mella?
“You traitors!!” He screamed, running through the halls knocking whatever was in his way as he stormed down in anger, “I’m going to kill both of you!”
Brant continued to search, but he knew he would never find her, they had taken her elsewhere and they didn’t even tell him let alone even leave some form of message. Brant fell down, slamming his fists on the ash covered hall floors.
“Traitors!” He cried again.
As the silence returned again, he started to hear coughing. He looked ahead at the front doors and saw one opened with a figure standing beside it. He was nearly out of breath himself when he realized who was approaching him.
“Brant. What is wrong?” Mella asked, coughing again as she walked towards the distressed man.
Brant shot up to his feet, running towards her without any more hesitation, wrapping his arms around her. The comfort to have Mella in his arms was all he wanted over the last several days.
“Mella, are you alright? I couldn’t find you, I thought they had taken you, I thought they had-”
“Brant.” Mella said, looking at him, although she still looked sick, she seemed somewhat better amidst her coughing. A bit of color had returned to her face and it seemed her fever had died down if not left her.
“Where is Tryker and Hei?”
“Well, that’s what I need to tell you, Brant. They overstayed their stay. Tryker was forced to leave last night for another mission and of course he had to bring his partner. They apologized and hoped you would return in the morning.”
“So they left you?” Brant asked still angry at this terrible excuse.
He placed his hand on her forehead. Her fever was low, but she still had one.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Brant added.
“Brant-” she coughed again, “calm down. Hei could have stayed, but he was seriously needed so I insisted. Don’t blame it on them, Brant. They did not hurt me, it was an emergency of their own.”
Brant led Mella back out of the hospital, escorting her back to the tent.
“Why weren’t you in the tent?” Brant asked again as he opened the flap and helped her lie back down.
“I had to take a walk, I’ve been stuck inside a stuffy tent over the last several days, I had to get some fresh air. Then I saw you enter the hospital, so I went after you.”
“You should have stayed in the tent.” Brant said compulsively, but he wasn’t trying to shout it out to her.
“I’m sorry. It was,” she started another coughing fit, wincing at the pain every cough would make, “stupid of me, but my body told me I needed to.”
Brant shook his head. With all that had happened was upsetting, he didn’t want Mella to get worse either. He would usually be okay for her to take a walk, it was more the fact the Tryker and Hei left. He struggled to forgive them of such an excuse. If they thought he was going to return in the morning, they should have stayed until then to make sure Mella was alright.
“Well, I’m glad you're not hurt any more than you are. You seem somewhat better, how are you feeling?”
“Still sick, but Hei believes I’ll be alright in about a week?”
“At the minimum?” Brant asked, thinking of the General.
“I don’t know. It could be sooner, it could be later-” once again, Mella fell into another coughing fit, tears streaming from her eyes as the pain was too much with the forced coughs.
The fit continued and Brant started to get into panic. He needed to find something. She started to cough so hard, she struggled to breathe again. Brant reached over and grabbed the breathing mask, fixing it over her face and allowing her oxygen. She continued to cough, but it started to die down. He adjusted the pillows, resting her against them.
“I need… the painkillers.” Mella managed to say, trying to gasp for more air.
She held the oxygen mask while Brant searched in the bag Hei had left, snatching the bottle of painkillers.
There was only five left, he knew they wouldn’t last long enough, but while she was still recovering, he would use the rest of them. He handed her one with his canteen of water and she swallowed it. Although it would take a few minutes to kick in, she started to settle in her coughing fits and soon, she was resting again.
Brant took a deep breath. He couldn’t really explain all that happened. It was still morning yet it still felt very long already. He was alone to take care of her now, but luckily Hei left him some things to help him while she was on her recovering process. He knew he just had to do whatever he could to keep her on that path of recovery and prevent anything that would make it worse.
As Mella slept, Brant heaved another sigh and lied down next to her. He ended up taking a nap of his own, grateful that he had her safe with him again.
Chapter 15- Victim
Lady Lidiac couldn’t help herself. She had to hide somewhere and cry. She refused to tell Lady Amalla, but the news ran through the country quickly and probably throughout the entire world. Lady Amalla had probably long found out and her mother as well, it hurt the Ingostle to realize all that had happened and to realize Mella’s close ones knew and were more likely just as hurt. Mella was more likely dead, Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie merely just searching for a dead body.
Lady Lidiac darted over to a corner of one of the recently abandoned houses and wept, taking her handkerchief and wiping off all of the make-up. She no longer cared. This trip was supposed to be a blessing, a charity service, yet here they were, still helping, but chaos had happened and it fell apart with some unnecessary sacrifices.
Lady Mella was dead, the Empress was sure of it.
She wept for several minutes until she heard a shrill scream from around the house. At first, she ignored it, her mind telling her it wasn’t her problem. She continue to weep, her arms on her knees as she sat against the wall of the house.
Then, by the corner of her eye, she spotted a flicker of orange light from amidst the grey atmosphere. She turned her head for a better view and saw a house near her in flames. The grey sky and the lowering sun made it difficult to see their faces, but she could see the black silhouettes of the townspeople, running in panic from the people who caused the fire.
She immediately stood up, dropping her handkerchief as she ran out from around the house. There she saw them, the soldiers in black, running the streets with guns. She wasn’t sure what else to do. They were throwing torches into houses, grabbing a hold of townspeople and pulling them away. Covered trucks waited for the soldiers as they threw the refugees in, then run back out to snatch more. For a moment, she just stood there frozen, in panic and confusion.
“Serenity!!!” A voice screamed.
Lady Lidiac hadn’t heard her first name for so long she could barely recognize it herself. As soon as she realized someone was calling for her, she whipped her head to where she heard it. It was one of her own Ingostles. She probably didn’t have enough time to blot out the long name of Lady Lidiac, so they called her first name in desperation, a soldier holding the Ingostles arms down. The young Ingostle looked at Lady Lidiac in desperation.
“Serenity help!!!!!” She screamed again, but it was merely showing there was another just standing there waiting to be taken. An Empress in specific.
Another soldier was attracted to the call for help and immediately saw Lady Lidiac. He then broke into a run and that was when Lady Lidiac got out of her frozen self. In panic, she tore off her shoes and darted, but the tail of her dress caught on a sprinkler head and she tripped. It didn’t stop her though, she ripped it off the sprinkler and continuing to bolt around the house. She reached the back door, trying to open it, but it was locked. She tried several quick attempts to wrench it open and as she realized there was no way to get inside, she continued to run, picking up her train as she ran around the yard and into the next houses yard. She could hear him behind, catching up to her, he was barely panting, his feet hitting the solid short cut grass in thumps just thirty feet behind her. She had barely grasped the handle of the next back door until she heard a gunshot and pain shot through her left ankle.
Lady Lidiac squeaked, falling against the door. She looked behind her, the soldier was some twenty feet behind her now. Refraining from using her left foot, she swung open the unlocked back door and rushed in, locking the door with trembling hands. Just then, she heard the soldiers fists slam as he pounded on the door, losing the chase. Her ears were ringing, everything so confusing. She tried to ignore the pain increasing in her ankle and as fast as she possibly could, Lady Lidiac limped her way to the front door. It seemed so far away as she used walls to support her way towards the door, rushing to lock it. She came too late, for right before she could lock it, the door swung open and the man was right there, holding it point blank to Lady Lidiac’s chest.
She toppled over, falling on her butt as she gazed up at the soldier in the living room of the deserted home. Her chest rose up and down pacing quicker and quicker as he held the gun down to her, his eyes so dark and determined.
“No more running Ingost Lady.” The soldier growled.
Lady Lidiac slid up the wall, holding her bleeding foot out as she leaned up against the wall. Without notice, she snatched the lamp next to her, yanking out the cord and swung it right to his head. The soldier had no time to react and he toppled over unconscious in front of her, the lamp shattered next to him with his forehead bleeding. It probably had glass shards in his head but she didn’t care.
The Empress straightened, she couldn’t hide and she couldn’t run, as she was in a very red dress that had a train perfect for tripping and holding her back. She came to Polei to save the people, not to cower from them. She gazed back down at the unconscious body underneath her and she looked up at the ceiling.
“Oh Edda, please forgive me.” She cried, she then reached down and dragged the soldier into a bedroom just around the corner.
With a trembling and shocked body, she unbuttoned his uniform and pulled it off of his body, taking everything but his underclothes. Although the blinds were surely closed, she could see the flames from between the cracks and gunshots rang with screams and cries. Lady Lidiac was too shocked to cry herself, but everything she heard just made her heart sink.
She hastily undressed herself, the summer air feeling cold through her shivering body. Luckily, the soldier was thin and just a little taller than she, giving her a uniform that mostly fit her. As she slipped it on, she tore off her hat and took out her bun, retying her light brown hair into a simple ponytail where she tucked it under her uniform coat. The coat was warm and much larger than her form fitting dress, but she didn’t much care how pretty she looked. Luckily she had taken off her paint after her crying session and her face was without much make-up, a female soldier. That was who she was going to be that day.
With the helmet left, Lady Lidiac hooked the strap around her slender jaw and dragged the unconscious man into a closet. Luckily, this closet locked on the outside, so she quickly locked it and grabbed a chair, shoving it under the knob.
With a heavy sigh, Lady Lidiac, still trembling although warmer, limped out of the house, the gun held in her hands. She would not shoot, but it not only gave her a sense of security, it also showed less suspicion for a soldier holding a gun.
She had barely been in the house for ten minutes, yet those left were either dead or other soldiers dragged them away. She stood outside of the door, feeling awkward and increasingly uncomfortable. Flames danced in the air, those injured dragging themselves across the ground or lying still. Other soldiers dragged those injured and took them away, leaving those lifeless on the streets. She felt nauseous, her head spinning as she gazed at the horrific sight. One was trying to retrieve two of the townspeople at the same time, struggling to keep them both down.
“Soldier, help me here!” He called, trying to restrain one.
Lady Lidiac, confused and unsure what else to do but to follow orders, ran over with her pained ankle and snatched the escaping second Polei person. She grabbed her arms, unsure what else to do from there.
“Let go of me!” She screamed, trying to jerk from Lady Lidiacs grasp.
It surprised Lady Lidiac what she could do as she gripped her wrists. A tarped truck had drove over with at least thirty of the townspeople inside, sitting there in panic and distress. The other soldier threw the one he had inside and Lady Lidiac, with no other choice, shoved the woman inside, trying to be graceful as to not hurt her. She wanted to help her instead of take her away, but she had no other choice. The other soldier jumped in and took a seat on the edge of the bench, then he leaned forward with his hand out to help Lady Lidiac. She took his hand without thought and he hoisted her up into the truck. There, another soldier closed the tailgate and she was inside, feeling like the refugees, but to the others, she was the soldier instead of the victim.
The truck started off again and Lady Lidiac sat there still in shock, speechless as she sat on the edge right across from the Khyro soldier. Inside, it was loud in screams and cries, several either refusing to look at her or glare at her as they drove on. One shot to her feet and started pounding on the tarp in panic.
“Get me out of here!” She screamed, but it was strained as if she hadn’t stopped screaming since they took her.
“Shut up!” The soldier barked, but then he turned to Lady Lidiac, “I didn’t catch your name.” The soldier added, taking this too casually for having just taken an entire town in less than an hour.
“Serenity.” Lady Lidiac responded, feeling weird to having to introduce herself by her first name instead of the name she had known for so long. She had to almost shout her name across the shouts and screams inside. She wouldn’t let a Khyro soldier know she was an Ingostle.
“Nice to meet you Serenity, I’m Syn.” The soldier said, gazing out the tiny openings between the tarp and the walls of the truck, watching the dirt road pass in the blur behind.
Lady Lidiac had no intention of conversation so she didn’t continue it, gazing down at her hands. She felt so uncomfortable, so confused. Everything had happened in a blur and she was left disguising as a soldier, unsure if this would even work out once she arrived. Her head was still spinning and she wanted to puke, but she just tried to take in deep breaths, refraining from passing out or throwing up. She was too afraid to puke.There was female soldiers everywhere, that wasn’t the part that made her nervous, it was the hope that none of the townspeople would point her out.
“I saw you limping when you helped me retrieve the last of the Polei people. Did you get shot?” Syn asked, as he wanted a conversation to keep his sanity from the cries of pain he was sitting in.
“An old wound, not a big deal.” Lady Lidiac said, still gazing down at her knees.
“The General would never let you go out if you were limping from an old wound. It happened today.”
Lady Lidiac finally looked up at Syn.
“Alright, yes, it happened today. I got shot in the ankle by accident from another one of the soldiers. I’ll be alright though.”
“We should be arriving in the next hour or so, how bad is it?”
Lady Lidiac shook her head.
“I told you, it’s fine. I’ll be alright.”
“Can I have a look at it?”
Lady Lidiac looked at the others in there, angry and begging eyes still gazing at her in disbelief. She shot her glance back at Syn.
“No, not in here. I’ll be fine until we arrive alright?”
Syn shook his head.
“Alright, but if it gets worse, it’s on you.” He explained.
Lady Lidiac didn’t want to talk to him, she wanted to be alone, but she wanted to save them. It was crammed and hot in there, the evening striking giving an eerie darkness inside. Although, with every one of their shoulders pressed tightly against each other, they all avoided touching Lady Lidiac, squishing tighter with others to keep from getting into the soldier's space. They were afraid and intimidated and Lady Lidiac didn't want to be intimidating. She wanted to help them, take them now to the safe city where there wouldn’t be raids, wars to get involved in. She knew the one that was supposed to take her place was probably just waking up with a terrible headache, half naked and locked in a closet in Polei. He would have handled this in a much more terrible way, she could see it in his eyes. If he was sitting where she was, he wouldn’t be sitting there in silence trying to contain his sanity.
She wanted to cry more, but Lady Lidiac kept her composure, stiffening up and taking a large intake through her nose. The cries of fear had died down, but the atmosphere was sticky and terrible. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead everyone desperate to get out of the living Hell in the back of a large military truck.
Lady Lidiac kept thinking of the other Ingostles. Where were they? They were probably in a different truck being taken to the same place, but to see them, so defeated and exhausted. It hurt Lady Lidiac that her girls were treated just like the others in this truck, it was painful to know all that had happened so quickly, so terribly.
Although, out of everything, that was why she took that soldiers uniform, that was why she was sitting in there. She was going to save not only her Ingostle girls, but every one of the Townspeople taken.
She took another intake of air, staring straight ahead as the truck continued it’s bumpy ride down the road.
“I can do this.” She whispered as the night continued on.
Chapter 16- Reunited
Mella was grateful Brant had returned. She had spent all those days worrying about him, wondering when he would come back. Hei was a good doctor, but she wanted Brant. When Tryker had explained about leaving, she was deeply upset, but it seemed urgent enough. Hei insisted himself to stay and take care of her and Tryker actually let Hei make his choice of whether to stay with Mella or to come with him. That was when Melle told Hei to go with Tryker. She knew what to do to take care of herself. Of course Hei was concerned that if something went wrong, nobody would be there to save her, but Tryker assumed Brant would be coming soon.
That was when Hei left with Tryker, leaving Mella alone overnight until Brant returned late that morning. Mella couldn’t explain in words how excited she was to see Brant, to have someone there for her, the man she had longed to see while he was away.
Now that Brant was back, all she wanted to hear now was what Brant would say about her and her father.
“Mella, he’s willing to let you talk to him, but like we planned, you have to get your dad to speak.” Brant began when Mella asked him about what they discussed, “General Khyro has had dozens of others try to speak with him and not a word will come out. He will do anything to get those words out, but he’s had so many, he said… he said he would kill you if you didn’t get him to talk.”
Mella shook her head.
“My dad wouldn’t let me die like that.”
“Well, you see, I hate to admit this, but the other side is winning. It always wins and that’s why General Khyo wants to know how your father does it. Although, if your father does, it’s not going to do much for our side. Our side would have to change whatever we had been doing for years to fight them. Whether we found out how the General does it or not, it will probably do us no good anyway.”
“Then why doesn’t he just tell you if he knows it will do your side no good?”
“It’s showing weakness, it’s not what he will say that will lose him, it’s giving in. Giving in is a weakness, doing this Mella, he’ll be forced to give in, he wouldn’t want you killed. You are taking chances, you are giving our side an advantage to force your father to give in. Give in from his own daughter that the General threatened to kill if he didn’t comply. It’s just a large game of risk.”
“I have to see my dad.” Mella said sternly, determined to finish what she came to this country in the first place for.
“Because of the success of the other side, this war may be over in the next few months. General Khyro knows that, that’s why he's been trying to do whatever he can to recruit more, to find out how they’re winning on the other side. That’s also why he’s trying to take Polei. He believes it a strength to take land, to draft as many men as possible, to capture General Westwood.”
“So if my side is already winning, what’s the difference if the general gives in? It’s not going to weaken him much when you guys lose anyway.”
“It’s your choice Mella on whether you want to continue this or not.”
“I want to see my dad.” She cried.
“If that’s what you want to do, then let’s do it. I’m not going to argue you about anything, whatever choice you are going to make, I’ll respect whatever you choose.”
Mella nodded, she wasn’t going to change her mind.
The week had gone by slowly and cautiously, taking it easy to help Mella’s recovering body. Mella was recovering very wonderfully, her pneumonia passing and her body in its continual path of healing. Although her ribs were still broken and she still had a cough, her face had color and she could breathe better.
“So I let him know you are an Ingostle. Before we left the Ingostle church, Lady Truly gave me a small package of makeup, so we’ll use that for this.” Brant explained as he packed away the things inside the tent.
“Great, and for safety, I also have something else.”
Mella had almost forgotten about it, but at the same time, she knew it was there, tucked under her girdle where it couldn’t be seen. She was hoping to never use it, but in times of fear, the thought of it hidden under her dress gave her some sense of security.
Mella reached under her dress, slipping out the knife from it’s position. She unsheathed it to reveal a very sharp glimmering blade in her hand, surprising Brant. that she even had something hidden under that innocent dress. Although it was small and merely fit in the palm off her hand, it seemed to pierce the air with it’s tiny needle point end. Brant gazed at it questioningly and in awe, trying to understand what he was seeing.
“I didn’t even know you had that.”
“A friend gave it to me before I left. I hope to never use it, but it kind of gives me security tucked away in my girdle.”
“That's great that you've had that for security, but that’s not just an ordinary knife, Mella. Those are rare. Murderers search everywhere for that kind of weapon, yet you have one in your very hand. They’re very lethal.”
“Why would this tiny thing be so lethal?”
“See how sharp it is? If punctured in the right spot, it could pierce an artery easily, it could shatter bones, seriously injure organs. It’s just long enough to seriously hurt, but small enough to legally carry.”
“Well, if I have to use it, I will use it wisely.”
“Use it carefully.”
Mella placed it back in the sheath, returning it to it’s original spot.
“Thus why I use it for security, now let's go, you can’t be late again for the general.”
*************************
The room was dark, but whimpers from the dozens inside was terrifying. Everyone sat on the floor, forced on their knees, free from any chains or ropes. They still contained themselves, remaining in one spot frozen in fear. For those who survived were about an estimate of a hundred and fifty townspeople. The rest were either killed, had returned safely from Polei in the past or was lying on the ground in Polei injured unsure what had just happened.
Inside the solid cement room, all the soldiers who had taken them captive stood in a line against the wall, guns holstered and rested at their arms. There was at least twenty of them, standing in salute with their stern eyes not even gazing down at the confused terrified townspeople of Polei. The man that was supposed to be in lady Lidiacs place was probably walking around Polei stranded, trying to find a way to return back to his base while Lady Lidiac stood in his place. All ways of contact had been disabled and she took his HAM radio, leaving the man stranded with no way of communicating.
So far, there had been no suspicions, they had just been expecting her to stand in salute to guard the people of Polei and she didn’t know what was to happen next.
She had been standing there for three days and her legs begged to rest. The townspeople had been sitting there starving and Lady Lidiac was desperate to find them help and get them food. She wanted to talk to someone like Lyn next to her, but even he stood quiet and stern, staring into nothing. Although, within all the weeping and waiting, Lady Lidiac could hear something from behind the door. Some of the people of Polei looked up, straining their ears to listen and Lady Lidiac was desperate to move.
“Attention on the General!” The head of the soldiers ordered.
Instantaneously, every single one of the soldiers shifted in a straight line and made an opening to the door. There, the Major of the soldiers reached over for the handle and opened it.
There he stood, the man they all feared. His stern grey eyes seemed to show up first, then the rest of his thin body as he entered the room, two other security guards in salute directly behind him. He stepped inside until he stood at the end of the line of soldiers, gazing down at the trembling townspeople. The women held their children close, the men straightening trying to keep their composure.
“The people of Polei.” The General said expressionless, “I’ve been trying to take you from General Westwood since the beginning of this war. I’m not sure if you all know why we took you. I need more soldiers for war. I will take all men and women in here, if you are older than sixteen, you count as a man. As for the children… we’ll take care of them while you’re gone.”
Lady Lidiac was hoping for an uproar, but they were all too afraid to speak up. They all just trembled, lost in defeat as they gazed up at the General.
“I wish I would have gotten more men to fight with, but I will do what I have. Tomorrow, every single one of you will be either training for war or in a long term nursery until this war is over. The training will be short, at the most a week, then I will send you all out in your uniform and you will fight for me. If any of you deceive me, I’ll kill you and your children will be left orphaned. I will make your life a living hell if I have to, so listen to me and cooperate, then maybe this war will end soon and you’ll reunite with your families.”
The General looked at each person in the room, but then his eyes focused on the red clump of dresses in the corner. The twelve Ingostles sat on the ground, sitting up tall and modestly, although exhausted, they tried to keep their composure. They all seemed to take an intake of air, trying to contain themselves as the General continued to gaze at them. The General leaned over to the Major, gesturing for him to come closer. Luckily Lady Lidiac was able to be close enough to hear.
“I’m assuming since the Empress isn’t here, you killed her?” The General whispered, still looking at the Ingostles, “because I know we made an agreement I would do it to prove my point.”
Lady Lidiac gasped, almost breaking her cover. Syn’s eyes looked over at her for a moment, but it didn’t show any sign of whether he was suspicious or just wondering why she gasped. He returned his glance back to the General.
“We couldn’t find her, General.” The Major said defeated.
General Khyro straightened, it was obvious he was trying to hold back the anger. Lady Lidiac was grateful she didn’t allow herself to be taken. She wouldn’t be there if that was so whether that soldier killed her in Polei or if General Khyro killed her now. She just needed to make sure nothing would blow her cover until she rescued the townspeople and escaped.
“I have to go, Major. I have a very important meeting with General Westwood and it may even result in a better map for our victory of this war. Give the townspeople food, they need strength. I’ll return in a few hours for some further business. The Ingostle Empress wouldn’t have hidden in Polei, as there is nowhere else to run in that dump. She has to be here, but I suspect not in an Ingostle dress. She could be any of these people and I want to find out as soon as possible. If I don’t find out by the time I return, I’ll kill all of her Ingostles, that will catch that woman’s attention. Wherever she is.” The General said, then marched out.
Lady Lidiac’s face had gone ghostly pale. She couldn’t risk the lives of her beautiful Ladies, but to show herself might kill everyone in the room. She was left with no other choice unless she figured out another way to get out of the mess. Although, no matter how much she kept telling herself that Edda will guide her to save everyone including her Ingostles, her mind refused to think. She was trapped and panic struck like an instant freeze, Lady Lidiac stood stiff in place, unsure what else to do but to give up.
All the soldiers returned to their original position as the door slammed shut and everyone in the room shuttered. Lady Lidiac stood frozen in place, but by the corner of her eye, she spotted Syn giving her a look she could never miss.
He knew who she was.
Chapter 17- Savior
They kept General Westwood inside a hidden prison deep in the battle grounds. Although just one floor and small, the dark grey building had no windows. It stood with no life, one would never expect that there was hundreds of alive miserable men, living life with no meaning but to survive. When entering, the prisoners of war are crammed inside each small cell like zoo animals, wallowing away in their grief. It was not silent as one could hear moans and screams even beforing entering down into the dark corridor. Everything echoed, sounds enhanced to horrify and to taunt, ringing off the walls and cursing the ears of those inside. Just by the shrill sounds of the prisoners dying wishes, hundreds would go crazy by the minute, screaming to escape the Hell they were living in.
Mella shivered in being in such an environment, feeling sick at the fact that she could be in those cells if General Khyro ever discovered that she was the daughter of General Westwood. They reached the end of the long dreadful walk to a solid metal door. That was where General Khyro awaited them.
The General nodded, another man standing next to him.
“Evening, Brant. Is this the Ingostle you speak of?”
“Indeed.”
The other man slipped out a ring of keys and unlocked the massive door. As it opened, a drift of icy cold air brushed against Mella’s face, revealing yet another dark draft room. Mella was forced to stay outside while they set things up for her. In a door close by, she saw one of the guards pushing a prisoner with a black cloth over his face inside. Mella knew it was her father. She could feel her heart thumping in both fear and excitement as she knew he was in there, not even knowing it was his daughter who was to see him next. Mella peaked into the room where the others were to be in and saw a large window with three seats and a metal desk. They took a seat, General Khyro adjusting his glasses as he flipped out a notebook and pen.
“We’re ready.” The General said, his pen ready to write any form of notes.
The guard who had brought Mella’s dad inside stood next to her, gazing down at her with sharp black eyes. He gripped her arm, a shiver running up Mella’s spine as he guided her over to the other door. There, he opened the door to carry yet another unpleasant feeling of a dreadful room.
Inside the other room, General Westwood sat in an uncomfortable metal chair, his hands tied behind his back. He had gotten used to having tied wrists, but he wanted this over with as much as General Khyro. He wanted to be dead, knowing it was probably the only way to escape this insane asylum.
He wasn’t looking forward to this next session. Most all them used a form of torture from binding to electricity and he was too exhausted to deal with another if this person was planning on using that tactic. He had so many people, so many trials and pain, he wanted to die and get it over with, but he knew to stay strong for his country.
Mella only stepped in enough for the door to be closed and the prison guard whipped the cloth off of the General’s head. As soon as the covering was off, the guard left and shut the door, leaving Mella alone in the same room as her father.
General Westwood was a good looking man, broad and a nice complexion, but as he sat on the chair in an empty sound proof cement cell, he didn’t feel that way. His hair was immensely disheveled let alone his whiskery chin. Cuts of all sizes ran across his face and neck and probably down the rest of his body, but they were covered by a blood stained prison shirt and worn jeans. His square jaw locked, not even bothering to look behind him to see who was next to torture him. His eyes looked the most worn as they barely could focus in exhaustion, the color in his eyes grey and tired. He slumped in the chair, too worn to sit properly, his head rolling around over his shoulders.
Mella froze up, seeing her father in such a terrible condition, Brant told her he was going to be this way and it burned inside her. The burning sensation of grief and pity. She stood in front of the door for a long moment of time before slowly making her way towards her father.
General Westwood lifted his head, looking up to see his next pursuer. It took him a moment, his eyes barely managing to focus directly on her round painted face. When his eyes finally focused, they grey wide and both surprise and panic struck. He recognized her almost instantly even under the hat and makeup.
“What are you doing here?” He said firmly, but his words were quiet and out of character for such a strong-willed man as he.
“I had to see you.” Mella whispered, trying not to choke up in tears.
“Does Lamenna know you’re here?” He asked, Mella could see the color in his eyes grow very slowly as life stood in front of him.
“I’m twenty two, she doesn’t have to know anything. I joined the feminist church of Ingost, I moved on.”
“I can see you’ve joined, that’s wonderful,” he said, but it wasn’t with much enthusiasm or praise. His eyes grew with question again, “but why are you here?”
“You need to tell me how you do it. How you win?”
General Westwood angrily turned to the one way window, this was a question he got every time, the question that got him stuck in this place at the beginning. Now here was his daughter doing just what everyone else did. Get him to talk.
“Is this your new way of getting the words out?! Do you have any idea what this does to not only me, but it infects the entire world?”
Mella shook her head, placing her gloved hand on his shoulder.
“He didn’t know how we knew each other before.” Mella sighed, releasing his shoulder and straightening, trying to hold back the pain still lingering heavily in the ribs, “Although, if you don’t respond… he’ll kill me.”
General Westwood shot up to his feet, Mella jumping back. His face had turned cherry red, his pattern of heavy breathing scaring Mella. He wasn’t mad at her, he wished she never came, but it was more the man standing behind her inside that window.
“He would have to know if he set you up this way!” He growled, looking at the window instead of Mella.
“This was my own choice, not his. I could have opted out but I needed to see you.”
Mella’s father took a seat, catching his breath at what he was hearing. Mella wasn’t used to so much anger, her father was never like this, he was a calm patient man who never got into such fits. Although he was increasingly stubborn, it was used for the best of him, not like how he was acting in that room.
“Why would you torment me like this?” He whimpered, dropping his head.
“I came all this way to see you, this was my only chance.”
Mella knew she was taking a risk in getting this, but that was all the wanted to do was to see him and she would take those chances.
The General heaved a sigh, this time glaring right up at his own daughter.
“You shouldn't have come at all.”
In the other room, the third man, who had a computer on his lap had found something that needed to be told immediately to General Khyro and Brant. He gazed over to Mella and General Westwood, pointing a thick finger at the girl.
“That's the Ingostle that went missing from Polei.” He pointed out.
Brant froze up, knowing they were already on their way of blowing her cover. It was not only that fear, but it was as well the fear that they might discover what Brant didn’t do. He knew they would soon discover that that girl on the other side of the window was the girl he saved from the bomb he didn’t set. Then he would be in the same pickle as her. Dead.
“Find out who that Ingostle is, Pike.” General khyro told him, but then he gave Brant a suspicious glare, “what her real name is.”
Mellas eyes had gathered tears, flooding her vision as if she was looking through a wall of water. She had been regretting this entire trip and she was hoping this would end her thoughts of doubt and pity on herself, but seeing her father seemed to make everything worse. She wanted to escape, to curl up in a ball somewhere where she could be alone, where she wouldn’t be hurt or sick and everything would be okay.
“I couldn’t live without knowing if you were okay or not.” Mella cried, “All I knew was that you were captured and they had no idea of whether you were alive or not. I couldn’t live with it...it was necessary to come.”
Behind the window, Brant straightened as he took a large intake of air through his nose, realizing Mella just said something he always used as his excuse, necessary. Beside him, Pike worked away at the computer, his tiny eyes gazing into the bright screen in concentration. He no longer was watching the two people in the other room, but focused on finding out exactly who this Ingostle girl is. By just simply her words, she was giving hints whether she realized it or not and General Khyro had tensed in his chair
General Westwood dropped his head, the thoughts of his daughter standing in front of him heavy in his mind. It seemed he had no other choice, the anger had built up heavily inside him, leaving him with something he hoped would never happen. For a long time, he didn't speak, gazing down at the floor relishing the situation. After several minutes, he lifted his head and looked over at the window.
“Alright general, you want to know what you've always wanted to hear?” General Westwood spat, sparks flying from his eyes, “You want to hear my glorious secret that you've been desperate to hear from me for so long? You want to hear me give in as I finally tell you?!”
General Westwood stood up from the chair, approaching the window. He stood just inches from the glass, his breath fogging on what looked like a mirror. He seemed to be looking directly at General Khyro even through the one-way window, his stance stern as he firmly held his stance in front of the other General. General Khyro stood up, leaning forward against the table. Although there was a sheet of glass between the two generals, they were merely inches from each others faces.
“My men aim for freedom, not to win.” General Westwood began, “It’s the mindset, the perspective. We don’t fight to win while you selfishly do, we fight for our promised objective. For peace. If we lose, we lose the peace we promised to bring to my country. When both sides set for peace, this war wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
General Khyro tensed his jaw, clawing the edge of the metal table as he glared down at the other General. His eyes were glued to the prisoner, waiting to hear more.
“That’s why you are losing.” General Westwood continued, “Getting more land, more soldiers, anything you have done will not win your war. Your expectations on your men, your country. Garbage. Nothing can save you in the way you did it, nothing can win your war. It’s too late to consider my secret, if you wanted to do what I did, you should have done it years ago. And if you did, we wouldn’t even have had this war! I don’t regret telling you this. Now that you know, I’m just going to let you know that I wasn’t giving in, I was just making you more desperate for a useless battle plan. I’ve already won the war, so it doesn’t weaken me for telling you. All that has changed is you know how we did it.”
The door of the cell swung open and the other general marched in, storming in beyond the point of anger. Loathing was sparking in his eyes. General Westwood swiftly turned to his enemy but he didn’t even react until a punch went square into his face. Mella gasped, backing up and her father toppled back into his chair, cupping his hands over his bleeding face. Mella looked back over at General Khyro. She froze up, unsure what else to think. The discomfort and confusion in the room increased to a terrifying level and Mella was just standing there unsure what else to do.
General Khyro then snapped his head over to her and pointed a bony finger directly at her face.
“Take Cromella Westwood to a private cell. I need to have a talk with her father.”
Pike, who was standing at the door, shot in as quickly as he could and grabbed a hold of Cromella. Even through the pain in her chest, Mella screamed, the shrill sound echoing in the room and out into the prison halls. Several of the prisoners crammed in their cells went quiet as they heard the cry for help, but then returned to their own personal sorrows, ignoring it. There would be no way for them to save her anyway. Cromella was too weak to escape, Pike restraining her and pulling her out of the room before she could attempt any more.
“Dad!” She screamed, trying to jerk her way back towards her father.
They found out, she couldn’t hide the fact that he was her dad anymore.
Her father just shook his head, looking at her with concern and grief. She didn’t know what to think, he gave her that look like he would help her, but it was also of something else. Something she couldn’t predict for that half a moment of his face, he was going to do something and it terrified her of the unknown.
Then the door shut and her father's face disappeared from view.
Chapter 18- Blown
Mella no longer cared about her makeup, her cover was blown and she felt it was mostly her fault. She let her tears turn into watery paint running down her face and she merely wiped it away with her glove, not caring that her black glove was turning into a rainbow and her face looked more like a smeared oil painting than an actual woman.
She saw her father. She got what she wanted, Brant gave her his promise and that’s exactly what she got. Yet, she wasn’t happy. Beyond the point of that. She was locked in a barren cell alone, her father taken from her again and Brant was no longer with her.
Yet, after all this, she thought she would be satisfied by the end.
“Idiot!” She screamed at herself, dropping her head to her chest,“you hurt your father, because of me. He had to tell the other side and gave in. He broke and it was all my fault! He’ll never be the same again because of me! And yet. Here I am. Locked in a cell that may cause me to go as crazy as those men I saw.”
Mella wept on the floor, sitting alone in a single cell. The cell was small with just a single cot and a toilet, there was nothing else. Unlike the bars for the other prisoners, this one was a solid cement room with a large metal door. She knew this would happen and feared it, yet hoped it would never happen. Yet, here she was, crying in a cell.
“Idiot!!!!”
She fell into coughing fit, clenching her chest as it struggled to bring out air she was forcing in her screams. She felt her insides would come flying out of her mouth, every cough hoarse and the aching pain treacherous. Her mind kept telling her to calm down and take it easy, but she did not want to, all she wanted to do was hate herself. She clenched her chest, closing her eyes as more coughs forced out without control. It took several minutes before it settled and she curled up, trembling in the anger inside of her.
“I’m dead. I shouldn’t have ever agreed to be an Ingostle.” She whimpered, “I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t deserve to be in such a mess. I shouldn’t have taken that project to Polei, I shouldn’t have come with Brant to those missions or agreed to tag along, I shouldn’t have come with the driver back to Polei or even allowed him to take that road. It was all a mistake... I’m a mistake.”
Mella shook her head, gazing down at her stomach, she cringed, curling up tighter, “I’m so fat and short and my life has turned to a disaster because I made that same mistake my father did. I acted on my instincts and got myself into trouble. I should have listened to my mother when she first spoke to me. I should have-” Mella broke into another jarring coughing fit, sitting up to give her more air to breathe.
The coughing continued to increase, words no longer coming out of her mouth. Her face turned from a sickly white to a purple, the lack of air trying to reach her lungs. This time, she didn’t have anything to help her, all she had was herself and she knew she had overdone it. She clenched her fists, trying to slow down on her breathing, to calm down, but her body continued to force in air through her bruised lungs.
“Help…” she tried, but it only came out as a strained gasp, “h… help.”
She could barely breathe, her body stiffening up as it tried to bring in air that she couldn’t do. Fear struck her, panic not helping with the situation as she could see black spots appearing in her vision. It felt like her throat had closed up, like there was an invisible cotton ball wedged in her lungs, preventing her from taking any form of intake of fresh air. She slammed the ground, knowing that was the only sound she could make, but it only hurt her weak hands more and no sound rang from the solid cement ground.
“He-” She couldn’t finish, speaking wasn’t going to help her.
She couldn’t move, she was too weak to even hold herself up. Her elbows trembled to hold up her weight and as she struggled to force out another cry for help, her arms weakened and she felt her body slam on the ground.
Brant. She mouthed, but it didn’t come out in words. The cold dark room turned from a fuzzy grey cell to a black abyss.
Brant was waiting outside of the room where the General’s conversed, pacing around his invisible square outside the door. He wanted to follow Pike to Mella’s cell, but he knew it would make no difference, she would get thrown in no matter what Brant did. He wasn’t sure what General Khyro was thinking of doing with her, she wouldn’t do any good and throwing her in wouldn’t do much as the General himself was still imprisoned. Brant recalled back to what happened some minutes ago. When General Westwood explained to General Khyro of his secret, it seemed like he knew exactly where General Khyro was standing. It looked like he was staring directly at the stern man through the one way window, beating him down with words General Khyro had been dying to hear over the last several months. Yet, as he listened to it, it only angered him more. He watched as every word seemed to form a new shape on General Khyro’s face. At first, it was it was stiffening up in anger, then the eyes, the locking of his jaw, the twitching of his thin lips, then the fists, growing tighter and tighter as his face went from flesh to pink to red. The enemy hadn’t even finished talking before the General stormed out and went straight to the door where Brant watched him slam open the door in rage.
Brant hated to admit it, but General Westwood was right.
They weren’t going to win the war no matter what General Westwood would say to them. Brant heaved a sigh, remembering that look General Khyro gave him as the other man told him the Ingostle’s name was Cromella Westwood. To see his face when he realized what Brant was actually up to. To the general, he was an imposter. Inside, Brant felt like he traitor, hiding so many secrets from the big boss himself. He wasn’t a killer, yet he worked as a killer in the general’s eyes. He had regret’s of his own, but some things that the General may not agree on Brant would never regret. He knew who he was, he was a servant with two masters, his conscience and General Khyro. He knew he was going to have to lose to one of them at some point.
Inside the room, he cringed as he heard a loud clatter, unsure if it belonged to General Khyro or General Westwood. The room was supposed to be sound proof, yet he could still hear shouts inside. He couldn’t understand what the shouts were saying, but he knew it was the fury of two sides in a single room.
He stopped pacing, leaning closer to the door, but he would never be able to decipher their conversation. He forced his ears to hear, but his focus quickly dissolved as he saw Pike darted over to him, panting hard as he stopped in front of the spy.
“What is it?” Brant asked.
The man pointed behind him, trying to catch his breath.
“She was screaming for a while, throwing a fit and such, which is normal for someone who gets thrown into prison after all that had happened, but… the screams turned into coughing and before I knew it... it-”
“It was what!?” Brant asked patiently, not caring that Pike was still trying to catch his breath.
Pike gulped, “it was completely silent in there.”
In panic, Brant threw Pike away from him, his heart racing in his chest.
“Do you have the key?” He asked, running his fingers through his bushel of hair.
“Of course, but I can’t just open the cell again without direct orders from the General.”
“The General is busy, I give the orders. Open that cell, I need to see her.”
“Sir-”
“NOW!!!”
Brant ran ahead, snatching the keys the man was holding in his hand. He darted across to the door at the end of the hallway, hoping to slam it open and rush in for help. His hands trembled as he struggled to stick the key in the lock, cold sweat trickling down his forehead as his hands barely managed to even hold the key. He hadn’t even opened the door by the time Pike arrived, still trying to catch his breath from the last run from the cell to the observation room. Pike, noticing the struggling man trying to get at the door, took the keys from him and pushed him out of the way. His hands were much more sturdy and he opened the cell door with no struggle. As soon as the key clicked in place, Brant turned the knob and swung open the door. He could barely breathe himself when he saw Mella nearly lifeless on the cold cement ground.
He slid down to his knees next to her, and quickly reached his mouth towards her in CPR. She needed oxygen, he would give it to her with whatever he had.
“Should I call someone else for help?” Pike asked in slight panic, still trying to let the situation sink into his head.
Brant didn’t respond, too busy on saving Mella’s life than conversing with the Security Guard. This time, he didn’t have an oxygen mask, he only had himself.
“Brant!” Pike called, trying to get his attention.
When there continued to be no response, he shrugged and ran out, trying to go for his own instincts. Although, out of everything, Pike didn’t want to lose his job, so he would choose where to go accordingly. He knew the General wouldn’t appreciate him doing things without direct orders. In a public setting, calling an ambulance would be the best option, but they were in the middle of battlegrounds and he wasn’t sure if the General would completely agree on such a thing. They had medics in the prison, but they would only come under direct orders. Although, it seemed like the only option.
So he went to the General, swinging open the door almost completely forgetting that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Usually, one would expect the door would be locked, but it would have to be locked on the outside and nobody would lock the Generals inside. Deep regret struck Pike like a racquetball in the gut. He was just holding up the collar of General Westwood’s shirt as the door swung open, his eyes inflamed as he saw the panicked man at the door.
“What is it?!!” He barked, his face so deep red it looked like his head would explode in flames.
“Uh… nothing… sir, I j-just-” General Khyro released the other general and approached the man. Pike cowered.
“Speak your reasoning!!!”
“The-the-the girl, she-she can’t breathe… w-we need medical h-help!” He squeaked.
“The girl?!”
General Westwood started to grow more angry as well, standing up straight and approaching the man. Pike shrunk, regretting every second of this.
“If my girl dies in this prison, everyone dies in here including you!!!!” General Westwood barked, pointing to the both of them
General Khyro gave a shooting glare back at the other general., holding his fists so tight, his knuckles had turned white.
“Then let. Her. Die.”
Pike just stood there in shock, frozen in place. He merely stared at the General in terror, his eyes refusing to leave his sight. General Khyro grabbed the back of the chair and threw it across the room, Pike shuddering at the fury inside the room. The General snapped his head back to Pike.
“Did you not hear me?!!”
“I-I heard you… sir” He gulped hard.
“Then do as you were told.”
Pike nodded and scuttled out, General Khyro slamming the door shut again, he turned back to his enemy.
Outside of the cell, Pike scurried over back to the cell. He couldn’t think, he was left unsure what else to do, being pushed around with everything so overwhelming. Brant was still trying to revive her and he himself was facing inner conflict, trying to save her life
“Brant, I don’t know what to do. General tells me no, I have to listen to him.”
Brant finally listened to him and turned to him, glaring at Pike.
“Do you want her to die?!!!!!”
“N-no… s-sir.”
“Then call the medical and tell them it came directly from the general.”
“S-sir… I-I-I can’t do th-that… sir. I-”
“DO IT!!!!!!”
Unsure what else to do, Pike rushed out, making his way to the phone against the wall around the corner. He dashed to the telephone, his fingers trembling so hard he could barely get his fingers to hit the dials on the number pad.
“T-two… o-one…. O-one!” He shuttered, his eyes barely able to focus on what he was pressing.
He could barely hold the phone to his ear as he waited for someone to answer.
“Y-yes… d-d-direct o-orders from-from the gen-general…. Girl-girl need-needs medi-c-cal… help!” He listened for the receiver to respond, “p-private… cell… f-four.”
As soon as he finished with that, he didn’t hang up, he just dropped the phone and scurried back down the hallway to Mella’s cell. At that moment, he was stopped by a shout from behind. He instantly froze, unable to even turn around as the footsteps grew louder and louder. His heart had stopped, every step making him cringe in the horror of his life at the moment.
Then the General was in front of him.
“What do you think you are doing?!” He bellowed
“I-ah…” General Khyro grabbed a hold of Pikes collar, pulling him close to his face.
“Did you alert medical?”
Pike didn’t respond, but the General already knew. General Khyro threw the man on the ground and marched over to the cell where Mella was. Pike just sat there, watching him make his way to the cell. He knew he would be facing the consequences already, his shock merely left him speechless and immobile, his mind refusing to think properly.
Brant had been spending those several minutest still doing CPR until Mella was on her side gasping for air again. He helped her sit up, patting her back to help the air circulate through her body. She was still coughing, but wide awake now, Brant gazing down at her hoping she would stay alert.
“What is this? Brant-” General Khryo said as he stormed inside and seeing his favored spy holding the dying girl on his lap.
Mella was holding her chest, still trying to catch her breath taken from her. She was definitely in shock, shivering as she leaned against Brant.
“I told you she could do it.” Brant explained, “She got what you wanted to hear. She got him to speak, I know you want her to die, but you made a rule that you shouldn’t break.”
“She deserves to, especially after finding out her father is General Westwood himself. I’d rather him suffer as he sees his daughter dead in front of his very own eyes.”
“You’re a murderer.”
“And you are not, Brant. I found out soon enough that you weren’t the one who exploded that jeep. Idiot. Traitor. Why did I hire you in the first place if I knew you couldn’t get blood on your hands?”
“I could still do what you were told without killing people!” Brant answered, keeping a firm eye directly on the General.,“I couldn’t do everything that you told me. I claim to not be a killer, but I am willing to kill certain people to prevent you from killing thousands.”
General shot his glare back at Brant.
“You’re an Imposter, Brant. Why did I ever think of trusting you?”
Brant lied Mella carefully against the wall and stood up.
“That train you sent with that shell to make a bomb to explode an entire city? I’m sure you know about that. The all famous terrorist attack that prevented you from doing the worst thing a human can ever do. Kill thousands just to prove a point, just to win a stupid war.”
“That was you?!”
“What. Do. You. Think?” Brant spat.
Brant wouldn’t have thought more anger would have built up already to his face, but by the time his face started to turn purple he knew he was not just angry. He was furious. Brant held a firm stance, not caring that the intensity in the General’s eyes had turned cold and dark, sinking his grey eyes deep into Brants soul. The General stepped up directly in front of Brant, but he merely kept his composure, standing there in clenched teeth as he gazed back into Khyro’s eyes.
“I don’t know what word could describe how I feel about you right now. It’s far beyond hate, past the point of loathing. You were my most trusted spy and here you are… a traitor.”
Brant leaned forward into the General’s face.
“It was necessary.”
It was the hard blow in the face that left Brant flying, his body slamming on the ground. He lied there unconscious, the General gazing down at him, breathing heavily as he held his bloody fist.
Although Mella was still in shock, to see Brant on the ground was unbearable. She knew moving would hurt her, but anger within herself started to grow. As she sat there, General Khyro glaring down at the unconscious Brant beside her, she reached under her dress and carefully stood up, supporting herself against the wall. She leaned up against it, too weak to even be standing, let alone moving as she was.
The flames in his eyes moved as it came from gazing down at Brant to Mella. A smile grew on his long ugly face, but isn’t of joy, it was enmity.
“Cromella Westwood, an Ingostle who strained far from home just to see her father. I’m sure you’ve long realized that you’ve been a fool falling into this. I could kill your father right now, he can’t do much with his hands tied behind his back and locked in the observation room. You got what you wished, now I want to do what I wanted to do. Now that I know what he did to his army, I can kill him, but that would be too easy. The world already thinks he's dead, it wouldn’t be as big of a deal. But to see the pain when his daughter was killed by General Khyro. He’ll never be the same, I feel the pain would be much worse than killing General Westwood himself. Then once the world realized he was alive and without a daughter, I’ll kill him too and everything will fall into disaster. To kill the General’s daughter would be a pleasure, as-” He was stopped short as a click was heard from behind General Khyro’s back.
The sound was all too familiar and the General instantly knew what was there behind him. Pike, out of panic and hope, had loosed General Westwood from the handcuffs and he had ran out the door, snatching the gun from Pike’s belt. Now Mella’s father stood, the end of the barrel against Khyro’s back. He held it firmly, forcing General Khyro to raise his hands up in the air.
“At the moment, I would think it would be easier to kill you than for you to kill me.” General Westwood said, the gun pressing harder into the soft flesh of Khyro’s back.
“You wouldn’t though. Your daughter is not dead, so why kill me if she isn’t?” General Khyro asked, preventing his shuddering from reaching his voice.
Two of the medical doctors came scurrying over, but they abruptly stopped as they noticed General Khyro at point blank gunpoint just at the door where they were to enter. They couldn’t see inside, so they were forced to remain, keeping a good distance from the situation.
“We’ve had a good talk, General Khryo, but your word is on yourself. You kill me, there will be an entire country to kill you, you kill my daughter and it’s me who will.”
While General Westwood spoke, Mella used the wall to support her as she walked around the cell towards the door. She knew the medical doctors were out there and she knew being stuck in there with two men against each other was not something she didn’t want to get involved in any longer. They had seemed to completely forgotten about her and she knew she had to escape the situation.
“If I kill you, your country will collapse and although my country will have the peace you were preventing my side to have, your country will not. It will not be because of us, it will because an idiotic general did some things your country will forever regret. They’ll think back to this time and realize how stupid they were to fall through such as they did and they’ll struggle to renew it because they never knew the secret the other side had. They’ll collapse, they’ll fall into a depression and then… just like the Halmonacs… your country will fall and there won’t even be statues on your shores to remember you by. You’ll be forgotten, and your country will be forgotten and that goal of winning will never happen. Your objective wasn’t peace such as my country has wished for, it was all to win. You won’t get peace no matter what you do.”
General Khyro noticed Mella nearing closer towards them, noticing the glint hidden in her hand. She was hiding something, but he didn’t have enough time to see what it was before he was forced to look at General Westwood through the corner of his eye.
“If you kill me, just know, most of my country already thinks I’m dead. It will do nothing on your end.” General Westwood added.
“Thus a bigger reason to kill you anyway.” General Khyro grumbled, “but it will be your daughter that I will kill first, just to make you feel like you were dead before I finished you off.”
Mella was still against the wall, almost hearing the heavy breathing coming from both generals.
“You don’t get my point, General. When they find out why you killed me, you will still be left in jeopardy. Our objective is peace and when they realize you tried to prevent their peace, they’ll try harder. You’ll lose no matter what you say or do. Whoever you kill, whoever you hurt, whoever you don’t hurt, your country has already long lost. You are already dead.”
Mella was taken by surprise as General Khyro swiftly swerved over to her, grabbed the knife and before the trigger was pulled on the gun, what was once in Mella’s hand, was into her father's side. The quick moment of motion nearly lost Mella’s balance, Mella twisting around to catch herself. But then she dug her foot into the ground and swerved towards General Khyro and as Khyro shot the knife into her father's side, she was behind him, looking at her father in horror around the other general.
General Westwood gasped, holding the knife in his side, everything seemed to fall in circles. The pleasure on General Khyro’s face was unbearable until he realized the shock on General Westwood’s face started turning into laughter. He straightened, holding up the supposed knife, but it was just the silver sheath. General Khyro would have been so horrified at the fact that he had mistaken the glint as the knife, but the knife was in her other hand while the sheath was in the hand he had snatched from. He didn’t realize until it was too late that the real knife was no longer in Mella’s other hand. General Khyro gasped for a breath, his face turning from a purple to a deathly pale. He fell to his knees, his eyes barely looking up at Mella in disbelief. General Westwood stopped laughing as he noticed the real knife stuck into General Khyro’s back. The color had vanished from General Khyro’s face and he toppled over head first on General Westwood’s feet.
Mella slid down the wall, trying to catch the breath she was still trying to recover from. She could hear her barely beating heart in her own ears, the adrenaline the only thing that made her do what she just did. With her knife in the General’s back, everything else seemed to fog, it was already foggy before, but she could barely grasp the energy of staying awake. The two medic’s rushed in once the doorway was clear, one taking care of Mella and the other with Brant. Before taking care of Mella, they quickly checked on General Khyro’s pulse to see if he was alive, but by the time they reached him. He was already dead.
She didn’t want to breathe no matter what her body forced her to do. When the medics picked her up, her head dropped and her foggy world faded off, back into the darkness. Back into the world she loved more than the life she was given.
Chapter 19- Secrets
Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie were already in enemy territory by the time they heard about what happened. They had searched for days, hoping to find her, asking around for any hints of the missing Ingostle. Lady Mgee was able to talk to a young woman who happened to see an Ingostle on a train some two weeks ago and Lady Eliquie found two men, one a native of the land, who had actually cared for her of her pneumonia at the bombed hospital, from there, it led them to the prison. They had to stop there, they knew they couldn’t go any further. Past there, they were not allowed for the life of them and they found themselves clutching on the ring fence gazing across the barren battleground hoping to see her coming back after she accomplished her mission.
They had been searching for days, they were lucky to hear about what they had heard. It was such a large world, to actually find out where Mella went was overwhelming. A miracle sent by the god of Edda. They found out that Mella’s entire journey was with a man named Brant, a spy who had supposedly bombed her jeep in the first place. They didn’t know what to think of that, but whatever he was doing, they weren’t sure if it was by force or choice. Either way, Mella was in the middle of battle grounds doing things that they didn’t even know about. She could have been dead for all they knew.
The two Ingostles hadn’t been able to contact Lady Lidiac since they last left and they couldn’t imagine what the Empress was thinking. Lady Lidiac had probably several times of finding a hidden corner where she could break into sobs, not caring about her make-up, just the missing Ingostle and the two Ingostles searching for her. Neither of them had any idea that Lady Lidiac with the twelve remaining Ingostles were taken refuge from the Khyro Republic, waiting for the militia to save them.
Everything had collapsed, the whole trip had bombs, kidnapped Ingostles, getting stranded into battle fields and the death of several townspeople who couldn’t quite make it. None of this they could really do about it, but they wished everything hadn’t fallen into such a disaster. Maybe Lady Lidiac shouldn’t have decided to do a service project in the middle of the battle fields.
They waited there for hours, hoping to see some sign of an Ingostle driving or walking their way, but there was nothing. The round young Ingostle was nowhere to be found and they grew increasingly worried every minute that passed.
“You think they killed her over there?” Lady Mgee asked, trying so hard not to burst into tears.
Lady Eliquie pulled the small woman close to her, resting her chin on top of her head. Lady Mgee had curled up, her hands glued to her face as she gazed in tears ready to burst out into the empty grey land.
“Lady Mella is stronger than we think, if she was able to go through all of that, she could make it through this.” Lady Eliquie explained, trying to stay optimistic in the hopeless situation.
Then a noise came from behind and they both whipped their head to hear the familiar sirens of an ambulance. There was, in fact, two ambulances, rushing over with their blue and red lights flashing in the grey foggy air. They wouldn’t be able to go any further past the gate, but as they stopped, their sirens still ringing through their ears, a jeep came speeding down the road inside the battle grounds.
The gates opened and the jeep, speeding faster than the dirt underneath its wheels could carry, swerved and slid right in between the two ambulances. Both Ingostles rushed over near the jeep to see who was in there and the pediatrics rushed out, helping place the people inside on gurney’s.
There was more than one injured and it brought serious doubt.
Lady Mgee stood on her tippy-toes, hoping but not hoping to see the familiar red dress of the dear friend they had tried so hard to look for. The first man they pulled out was surely dead and a plastic sheet was placed over the top of him, the next was two other men who looked like they would be alright. Then they saw her, the familiar red dress and mousy brown hair of the long lost Ingostle. Lady Mgee clutched lady Eliquie’s arms, bursting into the tears she had held in for so long, sobbing in her friend's arm. Lady Eliquie didn’t hesitate any longer. She politely patted Lady Mgee on the head so she could catch her attention. The tiny Ingostle gazed up at her old friend and Lady Eliquie nodded. There, they rushed over to the open doors of the ambulance just as they pulled her inside.
“Will she be alright?” Lady Eliquie asked in panic.
The pediatric glanced down at her, rushed to help the victims as soon as he could.
“Do you know her?” He asked.
By then, Lady Mgee had caught up, a sobbing mess as she gazed up at him too.
“Yes, we are good friends.”
“We need to get to the hospital as quickly as possible, so get in then.” He snapped.
Lady Eliquie jumped in, helping the short Ingostle inside as well just as they closed the doors of the ambulance.
There, the hospital vehicle took the long dreadful ride to the hospital.
***********************
Lady Lidiac was shoved against the wall just outside of the mast cell where the people waited. Syn pinned her with his large bony hand on her neck, his glare piercing in betrayal and anger.
“I trusted you, Serenity. You were so pretty and I enjoyed your presence...I was actually starting to like you.” Syn said through clenched teeth, “how can you do this to me?”
Lady Lidiac clenched his hand, trying to wrench it from her neck. Her face had turned purple, the difficulty to breathe making it hard for her to even speak.
“I… was never… intending to… be your friend.” She gasped, her nails digging into his skin.
Lyn flinched, but kept his hand strong around her neck.
“All this time, Serenity. All this time you were that Empress. That was one of our two objectives. The first one was to take all of the people of Polei refuge, the other was to take the Empress in specific and make sure she is alive for the General. Yet, here you are, disguised as one of us and I didn’t even know you were her until I realized what was really going on. I would think I would have realized that I didn’t recognize you even a little bit. It wasn’t like you had your long red dress the General told us to search for. You’re… well, you are without makeup and in a soldier uniform. How could I have guessed? Well, I should have. I found out soon enough about the soldier you knocked out and shoved in a closet. I found out before even the General knew because he was one of my good friends. Now that I think about it, you carry the scent of him, through those clothes you stole. I don’t know if you knew who you stole the clothes from, Serenity, but his name was Jahk. Good friend, I wondered where he went. I thought he was killed or was left, but we returned to this place with the same amount of people as we left. Now I know why. When I saw you on that truck, I had those thoughts that I just met a great soldier, yet, she was never a soldier at all. Merely a leader of a girl church. She had never fought before, felt betrayed before, she had never seen her friends die in her arms, or be taken from the enemy never to be seen again, she had never experienced the true pain of getting shot, or working weeks of training while a man is screaming in your ear. A woman with nothing but a few prissy Ingostles and a pretty dress.
“I found out soon enough what happened to Syn. After all of this, I realized I had deceived myself. It wasn’t even a thought that a woman soldier I had never seen in my life before wasn’t a soldier at all. I enjoyed sitting in that truck with you, looking into your green eyes and admiring that you joined this trip. I was thinking we would be good friends, maybe even date. Ha, how stupid of me. How stupid of me to-”
“Sir!!!” A shout came from behind Syn. It sounded urgent, but it didn’t sound like it was going directly to stop choking the other soldier.
However, Syn still released the Ingostle and she fell to her knees, holding her neck, choking in her moment of a closed airway. The soldier who called had ran over to Syn, catching his breath as he stopped in front of him.
“What is it?”
“Go get the others. It’s… urgent.”
Without hesitation, Syn ran inside where he called all the soldiers out. They piled out, standing in salute. The running soldier straightened, his face pasty white.
“The General.” He started, still trying to catch his breath, “is dead.”
The sounds of disbelief sounded in the halls. The soldiers stopped saluting and all turned to each other in concern.
“Who killed him?” Syn asked.
“We don’t know. It could be out of three people; Brant, General Westwood, or the Ingostle girl.”
Lady Lidiac, still on her hands and knees, gazed up at the solder.
“Lady Mella.” She whispered, her heart filling with sorrow.
“Do you know the girl?” The running soldier asked.
“She most certainly does,” Syn said. He grabbed the collar of her uniform jacket and yanked her up to her feet, Lady Lidiac weakened from merely being choked to death, “why don’t you tell them, Serenity.” He spat.
Lady Lidiac couldn’t lift her head. She had already lost, but at the same time, she hadn’t. Their head leader was dead. The war was probably over, the people of Polei were probably going to be released because there is nothing they could do with them. The war was practically over. Lady Lidiac suddenly rejoiced inside and a smile grew on her face.
“Tell them!” Syn screamed, jerking her head so she had to look up at the soldier gazing at her.
She straightened, Syn releasing her. She looked at each pair of eyes on every one of the soldiers.
“My name is Lady Serenity Lidiac, Empress of the Feminist church of Ingost and I’m here to free the people of Polei.”
Lady Lidiac was certain they would attack her, but they merely stared at her wide eyed. Nobody said a word, nobody made a move, time seemed to freeze with the eyes glued on the Empress in their midsts. Syn would have acted if the others had reacted differently, but he tensed, hoping for someone to act.
“Well? She’s the Empress!” Syn reminded.
“We were supposed to take her directly to the General.” One said.
“But the General is dead.”
“She is practically useless to us now.”
Syn clenched his fists, wanting to do something about it, but nobody supported him. Lady Lidiac nodded, and walked towards the door, all the soldiers moving out of the way so she could enter. Inside, the people of Polei sat, their heads down in their knees, or their bodies lying on the cold cement ground. Lady Lidiac pulled off her helmet, a glimmer in her eye with her make-up less face.
“Let’s get you all out of here.”
************************
Brant didn’t even need to stay overnight at the hospital, for it was merely a mild concussion, General Westwood would for the safety of his health and possibly a few more days, but the main concern was on Mella. They found out it was more than just a bruising in the lungs, her lungs were collapsing. They had to do immediate surgery and Brant wouldn’t leave from the outside of the operating room, holding his hands to his face in concern and worry.
Brant couldn’t leave her sight, knowing part of this was his fault. He felt he would never be able to forgive himself. He had not only betrayed his entire country, but he almost killed the girl he promised to protect. When the operation seemed successful, he remained sitting in a chair outside of her room, running his fingers through his disheveled hair in stress. Although the surgery was successful, it didn’t mean she would live for sure. There was so much complications for the condition she had and it hurt to know what could happen with her within the next several hours.
“She’ll be alright, but it will be a couple of weeks before she’s on her feet.” The doctor keeps telling him, but they wouldn't let him see her.
He kept asking, but they continually told him no. They were still trying to regulate her and to have visitors was the wrong time.
When her father was released, he never left. He approached Brant and grabbed a chair from across the room. There, he pulled it over and plopped next to the spy. General Westwood was clean shaven and was wearing a new set of clothes. Although his face was clean, he still had that sorrow of his daughter in that hospital room.
“I just got news from the military authorities.” The general said as they sat there in the silence that seemed to last for a long time.
“And?”
“They had to let me know before announcing it to public. They have declared the ending off the war.”
“And let me guess, you won.” Brant said, he knew it no matter how much he wanted to admit that he was on Khyro’s side and they should have won.
“Indeed. Now forgive me for showing pride for my side, but I believe, unless I'm wrong, you could be the next leader. You heard everything I had told General Khyro before he left us, meaning you could be the responsible one for showing your side what’s actually right. If you teach them like how I taught my men, there may be no war within our countries.”
“I never agreed on general Khyro's plan,” Brant agreed, “and yes, I very much heard every word. Although, because of that, I am in no field to be General and retrain my men like that. I may be important to the once living General of my country, but that does not mean I am in the right office to be General. However, if the country doesn’t ever think I betrayed them, I can teach the General how to train his men.”
“Because the war has officially ended and my position had been temporarily taken over by General Keahon, I don’t have much need to stay here. I want to go home and see my wife, see what had changed in our town of Chire. As for you, if you are unable to cope with the General, as, if I’m correct, I think there are some bad rumors about you at the moment. Rumors that believe you may have killed the General yourself, because of that, you may have already lost your position and may never be at the next General’s side. There are other ways to show your country, it will be harder, but I believe you can do it. I’ve seen you fight, I’ve seen how you think and work, Brant, I think you’re country will learn from its mistake. I, however, will return back to Chire as soon as Izzy recovers, then from there, I will see my wife.”
“I can’t imagine how you’ve been feeling with your daughter and all that.” Brant mentioned.
“It was naive of her to come here like that. Although, I can’t be too angry as I myself did things like that all of the time. It’s a bit too late to reconsider her path now.”
Brant laughed, but then the thought of general Khyro and all that had happened and his laughter silenced. Although she had some traumatic events of getting blown from a jeep and going through troubling trials Brant dragged her along with, it was the fact of hearing about the death of General Khyro. He knew exactly who had killed him and his gut tensed up.
“How will she be able to handle that it was her that killed General Khyro?”
General Westwood took in a large intake of air.
“That's the one thing that will scar her for life. I don’t like to imagine it, but I fear she may fall when she wakes up and realizes what she did. I wish I could take that burden from her and put it in my own hands. I would have rather have killed him myself than my own daughter.”
Brant dropped his head.
“That’s the reason why I’ve vowed not to kill for that very reason. There was only two witnesses, you and I, whatever we can, we will never let it out to the public who killed the general. If they think it was me, then so be it, but I don’t want anyone to know it was actually her that killed the general.”
“I can’t agree any more. If they ever ask, it will remain unanimous.”
“But that will never change Mella. She will always know whether the world knows or not. I can’t imagine how she could be feeling with that on her shoulders.”
“Me neither.”
“Do you have the knife?” Brant asked.
“Yes, I pulled it out and slipped it back in the hilt. The General actually tried to kill me with her knife, but had snatched the hilt and stabbed me merely with the holder of the knife. When they took me in the ambulance out of there, my fingerprints had already smothered the handle. If all else, I would be known as the true killer of General Khyro.”
For a while, they sat there in silence, waiting until they could enter and see her, but so far, nothing hinted that they would be seeing her any time soon. There was constant doctors inside the room, trying to help her but not once did they inquire for them to visit her.
As they sat there, the hospital doors of the hall swung open as Rohana rushed in, dragging her child behind her in panic.
“Is she okay? Will she live?”
“They said she’ll be alright.” Brant responded, both the General and Brant standing up.
“It’s all over the news. General is saved by his daughter at the prison. Khyro is dead, war is officially declared finished! Daughter in hospital with a well fought battle. Is she alright? I have to know. That poor girl had gone through so much. I’ve been dying to get over here and see her, know that she is okay.”
“So they finally declared it’s ending to the public.” General Westwood said about the same time Brant said:
“The doctors said she would be alright, but they won’t let us see her.”
“See her? How do you mean?”
“Maybe come back in the next few days when she can really have visitors.”
“I’m not going to wait a few days.” She mumbled, she then released her daughter's hand, dragged another chair next to them and sat down.
“I’ll have to wait with you guys then.”
For only a few minutes, Rohana kept her composure. Her lip trembled, but she kept sitting straight, keeping her eyes glued to the same spot on the wall across from her. Then she broke, digging her face into Brant’s shoulder. Her daughter just sat on the floor, calmly playing with a folded piece of paper left near her on the tile, minding her own business.
Brant hesitated to wrap his arm around her shoulder, but as she continued to cry, he finally managed to do some form of comfort.
It wasn’t until later that day until the doctor finally came out and told them they could see her.
“She’s asleep though. I know you’ve been desperate to see her, but she’s not in good condition. I’ll give you a few moments, then I would please ask you to leave as we shouldn’t have visitors past this time.” The doctor explained.
Rohana was the first to enter, rushing inside to see the girl. She kept her hands covering her mouth as her father and Brant entered.
With the setting sun, it was dark in the room, merely a glint of the sliver of sun shining through her window. Mella lied in her bed, tubes in her nose and cords across her body. She still had the scratches across her face, beginning to scar as they were merely a couple of weeks old. Her hair was disheveled, her face so white as she lied there asleep, waiting to wake up to a happy life. That was, if she was going to be happy once she realized what she had done. General Westwood stood by her, looking at his daughter in awe and concern. Brant ran the back of his hand on her cold cheek, kissing her on the forehead.
“You will get better, Mella, I promise.”
It had been three days. Brant no longer cared about what the news said. He was grateful that the war was over and although he was a major part of the war, he knew by what he had done, he would never be a trusted spy to the next General. So what? He knew for sure Lieutenant Glynn would be the new general. His rank was high, but he didn’t like to be considered by his ranking, even General Khyro himself called him Brant instead of Lieutenant.
Next to him, General Westwood read deeply into a newspaper, sitting beside him next to her room. She was resting, but neither of them wanted to leave yet. They were forced to leave that first night, but as soon as the sun returned, they came back to the hospital, knowing they would never miss the opportunity of seeing her awake.
“Brant, are you going to the ranking event on Saturday? They just got a new ranking class after General Khyro was killed. They will probably be putting Major Glynn to General soon enough.” General Westwood asked.
“I wasn’t invited.”
“Well that’s about to change very quickly.” Rohana said as she arrived in a full uniform.
Brant immediately shot to his feet, his feet parallel and his arms stiff on his side. He stood in salute, but Rohana merely laughed. She had spent all that time wishing to not join the military, yet, here she was.
“At ease.” She said, approaching Brant casually even through her military uniform.
He knew instantly it wasn’t just a soldier uniform, it was a lieutenant uniform.
“How… I had no idea you were even in the army, let alone a lieutenant.”
“Air force, Brant, that's how I met your brother. We earned our ranking at the same time. We were partnered up and soon we became partners forever. I, however, did not want to join General Khyro in the military, that’s why I refused to and merely lied about it because I assumed you didn’t know. I had no intention of working by his side. I talked to Major Glynn, he wants you to go. Come in your uniform.”
“Ma’am, I was excommunicated from my rank. I am no longer Lieutenant, you should know this.” Brant said firmly.
“It was not me who made the orders, it was the Major himself.” Rohana specified.
“Than why did he send someone from the air force?”
“Because you know me and he wanted to send someone you knew.”
Brant sighed, looking at Mella’s closed door. He turned his head back over at the Lieutenant.
“Very well then, I’ll go, but just know, I don't deserve this, I disobeyed orders, I lied to General Khyro, I can't be in the army any more. I should be in jail right now.”
“General Glynn knows what you did, he doesn't care. He wants to see you.”
Brant heaved another sigh.
“Then yes, I guess I’ll go to the ceremony on Saturday then.”
Rohana smiled.
“I’ll see you in three days.”
Rohana left, going to her meeting. Brant thought he knew her, but that was something he had no idea about. She kept it well secretive and he wished he would have known sooner. Being a friend and a wife to his dead brother, she could be an advantage for what he wanted to do. He wanted his country to learn how General Westwood taught his men, he wanted to change their thoughts to peace instead of greed. He knew it would be hard, but if he could get the help of Rohana, he could just do what he needed to do. Because of Rohana, she may help with as well General Westwood to help his country.
When Saturday came, Brant woke early so he would be on time to the ceremony at 8:00. He decided to get an apartment, knowing, after getting excommunicated, he wouldn’t be moving around doing his job. He had kept his uniform folded neatly in a suitcase that he kept in storage. When he moved into the apartment, he got into the storage and had unpacked everything. Except for the uniform.
He opened the suitcase, the green uniform neatly placed inside. He heaved a sigh, pulling it out, he placed it on the ironing board, getting rid of the fold creases and slipped the uniform on. He hadn’t worn the uniform since the last ceremony he was at, when he was ranked as Lieutenant. He should have had his uniform taken when he was excommunicated, yet, he still had it and now he was wearing it over his broad structured body. He groomed his hair, greased back the fluff and shaved the whiskers that had grown from his chin. There, he left his apartment and took a cab to the ceremony.
The ceremony was extremely formal. Brant found himself standing in a line amidst other soldiers. He kept repeating the words, he knew he didn't deserve to be here, he knew what he did, it didn't matter what others knew or didn't know.
Major Glynn stood at the end of the isle where others stood for their ranking. Hundreds of soldiers stood at attention including Brant. He felt out of place, he didn’t belong within them, even before he was excommunicated he never seemed to fit in. He never liked the uniform and he could get away with it being a spy.
When the ceremony ended, Brant was desperate to leave. There was much celebration and speeches, inspiring words echoing in the large stadium like a conscience. As it ended with the folding of the Khyro flag, everyone made their exit. Brant was almost the first to leave. However, that didn’t stop the now General Glynn as he caught him just before exiting the doors of the stadium.
“Lieutenant-”
“Please general, I am not lieutenant, I’m just Brant. I am no longer in the military.”
“I know what you did.” General Glynn said, standing in front of Brant. He stopped in his tracks, “I don't know who killed General Khyro, but I could easily assume it was you, but I still respect you, Brant. I invited you because I wanted to see you respected before you had to leave. You are an amazing man, Brant. I wanted to congratulate personally before your departure,” the general shook his hand, “thank you for your hard work for our country.”
“Thank you, but inviting me was unnecessary. I will give you my uniform tomorrow. If you'll please excuse me, General, I've got a girl on the hospital that I need to see.”
Brant unpinned the ranking badges and placed it in the general's hand. He started to walk off again.
“Brant.” Brant stopped and turned his head to the renounced General, “Keep the uniform.”
As Brant stepped out of the stadium, he gazed down at his phone to see a missed call from general Westwood. He redialed.
“General, is this about Cromella?”
“Yes, but it could be more of a blessing than bad news.”
“I'm coming over right now.”
Brant rushed to the hospital, approaching the general outside her open door.
“So what is the news? Is she awake?”
“Yes, and...well, because of being in shock during those remaining few minutes of general Khyro, she doesn't remember.” General Westwood explained.
“So are you saying she won't remember what she did?”
“She remembers bits and pieces, we need to talk to her to see, but it looks like she doesn't remember the part when she… you know.”
“Let's find out then.”
Brant and general Westwood entered the room, Mella wide awake and partly sitting up in bed. The tubes still hung from her nose and her face still looked pasty, but they were grateful she was at least awake.
“How are you feeling?” Brant asked, sitting on the bed.
“I've been better.” She muttered, her voice was whispy and tense, groggy from her colma.
“What do you remember in that cell at the prison?” General Westwood asked.
“It's foggy. I was fully alert when I was first thrown in, but my screaming and panic was when I had lost it and couldn’t breathe. After that was foggy, I remember supporting myself against the wall and I made my way towards the door, but General Khyro blocked it and then… well, then I saw general Khyro dead on the ground and I don't remember anything else.”
“Nothing else? Any other specific details?” Brant asked, but Mella just shook her head.
She had lost a lot of weight, her body less round than it was when Brant first met her. Her face was thinner, showing out her narrow jawline and a more slender neck. Over time, even before she ended up at the hospital, she was slowly losing the weight, but it was because of her unhealthiness and it hurt Brant more than joyed him. Even if she had lost some of the burdens of her self-conscious life.
“Thank you for all of the help, supporting me, helping me. It had meant so much to me to find my dad let alone have him come home with me. I told you how I was feeling physically, hurting, stiff, sore; but emotionally, I feel wonderful. I have never felt this good before and it had something to do with you, Brant. Thank you.”
Brant refrained from blushing, knowing of Mella’s self image concerns. It made him happy to know she was alright mentally, but she wouldn't have been if she would have known she killed General Khyro. Brant was grateful she couldn’t remember and her father was as well, they couldn't imagine how she would be if she knew she killed him, her mental state would not be like how she was feeling if she knew.
Brant ran his hand through her hair.
“You’re amazing.”
“Is there anything else you need me to tell you?” Mella asked, the compliment not even coming all the way through her head.
“I think that’s all, Izzy. Although, I’d like to let you know that you're Ingostle friends are coming to visit you soon.” Her father said, a smile growing on her face when he called her Izzy.
“I’d love to see them. When are they coming?”
“In about fifteen minutes.”
“Actually, sorry, more like fifteen seconds.” Lady Lidiac said as she entered with the fourteen other Ingostles, “we apologize for being early. How are you doing, Lady Mella?”
Lady Lidiac had a smile on her face that was different. Mella could see she had changed, but she knew something had happened. Although Lady Lidiac’s face was painted, hiding the scratches, Mella could see the finger shaped bruising around her neck. The other Ingostles were smiling as well, but she could see it in their eyes, they had gone through something as well. Mella’s smile still grew bigger though and Brant and General Westwood slipped out while Mella was distracted with the Ingostles.
“General, I’d like to let you know that General Glynn suspects that I killed Khyro.” Brant whispered to the general as they stepped out of the room.
“Then why did he invite you?”
“He still thinks I should be respected for what I’ve done before I was excommunicated.”
“I see he officially took your lieutenant badge.” The General said, gazing at the empty spot on his uniform.
“No, I handed it to him, but he told me to keep the uniform.”
“Quite a man. Maybe he’ll be more lenient on what I tried telling General Khyro. He doesn’t seem one to hold so much greed as his old leader.”
“Well, I’ve got more than General Glynn, I’ve got Rohanna.” Brant reminded.
“And?”
“She has connections much stronger than we because, you know, I was excommunicated. She may help so we may never get another war like this again.”
“I can’t say never get another war. There are always going to be wars, but never as terrible as this one.” General Westwood clarified.
Brant shook his head, “we just can’t let her know, no matter what, let her know it was really her who ended the war. Or how she ended the war.”
General Westwood rubbed the back of his head and peeked through the door, but he couldn’t see her amidst the fifteen red dresses surrounding her. There was a few Ingostles who had no intention of visiting, but they were too far in they wouldn’t be able to overhear the conversation between the General and the ex-soldier. General Westwood grabbed Brant’s arm and pulled him a little further from the door just in case and looked to make sure nobody else was eavesdropping such as doctors or nurses. He then quickly gave Brant full eye contact.
“I’ve been struggling to keep this from you, but I’ve also struggled trying to find the time to tell you this. The man, you know the other who was with you and the General?” General Westwood said.
“Yes.”
“When Mella had… stabbed the general. The knife was left on the ground. Before I was taken by the medics with Mella and General Khyro… the man had reached over and wrenched the knife from my grasp.”
“Did Pike see who killed him?”
“No, there was too much going on, he was running with the medics, he didn’t see anything. However, the knife could be proof. It has both Mella and my finger marks so we would be both sentenced of this murder. It would narrow down and I don’t want to see my daughter in prison.”
“I thought you said you had it? Now he has it?” Brant asked.
“That’s the problem. We need to get the knife from him.”
“That was five days ago, Pike would surely have already taken it to be inspected.”
“He was a confused man and a lot has happened with ranking ceremonies and trying to put things together of how the war ended, he was probably the main culprit of it all, I doubted he would have had time. Also, I doubt at the time it was his thought. It’s not over the news yet, so it would be better to find it or it may be too late.”
“What if it’s too late now, it doesn’t have to be on the news to make it too late. They might already have the evidence and we may not know it yet.” General Westwood patted Brant’s back.
“Then I suggest you should probably get going.”
“What about you?”
“I never said I wasn’t coming. My car is in the front, we will go now. I should have told you sooner, but so much has happened, the words hadn’t come out yet until now.”
“Then let’s go then.”
Brant and General Westwood rushed out of the hospital, approaching the General’s blue truck. As Brant hopped in the front seat next to the General, General Westwood slapped a pistol on his lap.
“Let’s go get that knife.”
General Westwood hit the gas, shooting out of the parking lot towards Pike’s house.
Chapter 20- The Lady Inside
Brant knew where Pike lived because as a Major, he had a house right next door to General Khyro’s home. It was a large home, decorated with expensive stone and woodwork. They approached the double doors and Brant knocked, knowing if General Westwood knocked, it would probably break the door down.
The door opened within a couple of minutes, a tiny woman at the door. The sun was just setting, the sky a purple and pink with tiny hints of blue left. Surrounding the house seemed to silhouette, even the two men at the door were dark from the light silhouetting them from behind.
“Hello, are you Pike’s wife?” General Westwood asked.
“I am indeed, how can I help you two?”
She was from Mella’s country, as her accent was very obvious.
“Is your husband here?”
“Well…” she looked on the side of her for just a brief moment, but when Brant leaned over to see where she was looking, she whipped her head back over, “I’m afraid not, but would you like to come in, I’ve got some herbal tea on the stove?”
“We’re actually okay, but thank you.” General Westwood said politely, but Brant was distracted at the side of the house.
He started to walk off the porch, slowly making his way across the side of the house.
“NO please, I’ve got plenty. I made too much, I would love for you to have some inside.” She begged, the tone of desperation in her voice.
“We are fine, really.” General Westwood said, seeing Brant slowly slipping away by the corner of his eye.
Pike’s wife, with the suspicion deep in her eyes, refused to leave her sight on the General. Taking in a gasp of panic reached over and snatched the General's arm.
“Just for a moment, a couple of minutes?”
Several moments ago, Brant was just barely slipping off the porch as if he was desperate to return back to the truck. However, now he was clearly on the side of the house, and just as General Westwood looked over, the spy slipped around the corner. He whipped his glance back at the woman, her hand still clamping firmly around his arm.
“Brant is already leaving, we’ve got a girl in the hospital to get to but-”
The woman pulled the general in just as he saw two silhouettes trample each other on the side of the house. He didn’t know which one was Brant, but he didn’t have time to think before he was pulled into the house.
“It’s my sister's special raspberry tea, you’ll love it.” She said, immediately approaching the stove but keeping an eye on the General.
“I really do have-” but the wife had already placed a mug of tea in his hands, “uh...thank you.”
Although he didn’t drink it. He was hoping Brant could handle doing all of this on his own, but he was desperate to leave and find out. The man’s wife just sat there across from him, holding her cup of tea, but she didn’t drink either. She just stared at him, her eyes, although not in any sense beautiful, were bouncing back and forth on General Westwood’s. Her tactic seemed to work in an unusual way, the General feeling uncomfortable but feeling like he couldn’t leave anywhere. Her silent intimidation left him glued to his seat.
“So what did you need of my husband?” She snapped, her focus not even changing a bit.
“Just some business stuff, but I was just going to come back if he wasn’t here.”
“Business? What kind of business?” She asked before General Westwood could even managed to finish his sentence.
“From work.”
“I’ve seen you before. You aren’t on our side, you’re from the Hechz Republic.”
“Indeed.”
“So what do you need of my husband?” She asked again. She seemed to have all of her words played out in her head, ready to continue a conversation to keep him remaining in his seat. She didn’t even need to speak with her alternative tactic of her death stare.
She was obviously stalling, but it seemed like the General had no other choice but to stay to avoid hurting her. So he remained, his hands on the table not even bothering to a sip. He could smell the raspberry, the smell refreshing and sweet, but his intention wasn’t to visit. Pike’s wife was keeping only one of the two men who arrived at her home, the other was probably beating Pike up in the driveway.
Meanwhile, Brant had pinned the man to the ground, Pike clutching a plastic bag with the knife in it. His hand gripped the bag with his life, but Brant would do whatever he could do to wrench it out.
“What were you going to do with that?” Brant snapped.
“N-nothing, sir.”
“Were you going to take it in, find out who really killed the general? I understand there’s no proof until you hand over the knife. They may find the fingerprints on it, that’s probably what you’re up to huh?”
“N-n-no sir.” Pike said, large beads of sweat had already trickled down the pale man's face, “I-I had merely forgotten about it until now.. I j-just decided to toss it. It-it’s useless to me.”
Brant pressed more weight on his arms, making the man wince.
“Stop lying, I already know. Plus, wouldn’t your own fingerprints be on it since you were the one who snatched it?”
“Th-they know I wasn’t in the room.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s the proof?”
The man hesitated, there wasn’t any proof.
“I know it was the girl, I didn’t see it, but you were unconscious when I entered that room and General Westwood was in an odd spot.”
“He could have wrapped his arm around to pierce his back.”
“At the same time General K-Khyro stabbed him with the sheath of the knife? I don’t think so.”
“Did you see Khyro stab him with the sheath?”
“No, but I heard it from General Westwood. General Khyro tried to kill him with the girls knife and it just… ended up to be the sheath.”
“What else did you hear?”
“That’s all I... heard, sir.”
“I could have easily stabbed him on the back too as well, you don’t know when I fell unconscious.”
“Yes, but nobody knows when you were knocked unconscious, it could have been long before the General was stabbed.”
“You could be very wrong, sir. There was no proof that I was unconscious that long, he could have knocked me out after I had stabbed him.”
“But there’s no proof.”
“Exactly, so why would you suspect her? She was merely trying to get out because she was seriously injured and sick, I wouldn’t think she would even have the strength to do such a thing.”
The man pointed at the bag with his eyes.
“Look how sharp that is? Even a child could have stabbed him with a single poke.”
“There. Is. No. Proof! Why would you suspect her?”
“You’re getting defensive for one thing. If you would have killed him, you wouldn’t have chased after me to get the knife, you wouldn’t have cared.” Pike said, his fear had turned sincere, he knew what he was saying, “But Cromella, the General’s daughter, I see how you look at her, I see how you want to help her. The desperation to keep her alive. She would be the only reason why you’re here.”
“I vowed to protect her.”
“It’s more than just protection.” Pike spat, then, his lips defining every word, he finished saying, “You love her.”
Brant’s law jocked and within seconds, he had snatched the bag from his hands and held him up against the wall, one hand holding the knife with the bag still wrapped around it and the other hand pressed hard on his chest.
“I thought you said you weren’t a killer.” Pike said, his hands pressed against the wall.
Although the knife was still in the bag, it didn’t matter, it would easily pierce through the bag to stab into the man’s body. Pike had no fear, he merely looked at him, merely wishing for the knife back with no harm done.
“I’ve killed people in my life for the sake of saving hundreds. This is doing just the same.”
“Who would this save? Yourself? Because, If it was you that killed him you wouldn’t be acting this way.”
“You’re a smart man, but not smart enough.” Brant snapped, holding the knife closer to his neck. Pike lifted his head, naturally trying to avoid the blade from touching his open skin.
“How so?”
“Alright, do you want to know what you’ve wanted to hear from me?” Brant released the man, “the general killed him. I watched him do it. I’m getting defensive because if the general gets hurt, it hurts his daughter too… and it hurts the country.”
“Are you protecting the other country? Ha, I never regretted excommunicating you, Brant. You betrayed us all.”
Brant pulled away from the man, still holding the knife. The anger had built up, but Brant merely heaved a sigh and took a step back. Pike moved just a moment, but the knife was still pointing towards him and Pike realized the fight wasn’t over.
“It doesn’t matter to me anymore.” Brant said, then he leaned forward into Pike’s face, “I can move on with my life without being in the military. Plus, I’ve got what I needed. A necessary thing.”
Brant gripped the hilt tighter and with a grin he ran off back to the truck where moment later, The Hzech General ran to the wheel. The man standing there, holding his chest as he watched the truck drive off with a screech down his street. He would have chased after, but he knew he had already lost. It didn’t just have Mella’s finger marks on it, it also had Brants when he had looked at the knife some hours before, General Westwoods when he had pulled it out of General Khyro’s chest, and, as for the most recent, it also had Pike’s distinct fingerprints on its hilt. It would be worthless to take it in for proof anyway. He thought it was a great idea before, but Brant was right, he wasn’t as smart as he thought. He would be considering himself as a suspect if he would have taken it in.
Pike slammed his fist on the stone wall of his house in anger, the sun releasing its last rays of orange sunlight before disappearing into the mountains.
Mella hadn’t felt this happy for a long time, to see all these glimmering faces of Ingostles. It was like being home outside of home. They had been talking about what Mella was doing while she was missing, but as she finished up to the point where she couldn’t remember, she wanted to ask some questions to Lady Lidiac and possibly the others.
“Lady Lidiac?”
“Yes, dear?” Lady Lidiac responded.
“I understand you’ve had an adventure of your own. I don’t think the bruising on your neck was an accident.” Lady Mella mentioned.
“Indeed, Lady Mella. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for this bruise.” Lady Lidiac sat at the foot of the bed and spent the next several minutes explaining what happened from the time of trying to find ways to find Mella to being pillaged by Khyro’s soldiers. She explained of disguising as a soldier and locking the unconscious one insdie a closet and then watching the people of Polei. She explained how she would have been killed if she hadn’t disguised and because Syn had held her outside of the room at that time and choked her, it allowed another man to claim the death of General Khyro and the freedom of the People of Polei and the Ingostles. Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie described their story of their search for Mella and Mella watched them intrigued, feeling loved that they had spent that time to search for her.
“We went with you on the ambulance.” Lady Mgee said.
“It broke our hearts after we realized it was you being sent to the hospital, not even sure if you would survive or not.” Lady Eliquie added.
“And that’s where it led us to here.” Lady Lidiac explained, “I brought the people of Polei into Rumbeig where they are safe. The city is trying to help them with homes and jobs and as they were taken care of, I gathered up the Ingostles and we gave a group hug. It was all in tears of joy and sorrow, the sorrow of our missing Ingostle and the loss of dozens of citizens from the people of Polei.
“Mella, I can’t tell you how worried I was.” Lady Lidiac continued, trying not to cry, “when I realized they took you, I desperately wanted to go out and find you, but we were not allowed to leave Polei once they bombed your jeep. Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie were especially generous and went off to find you. Sadly, I was unable to come. Although, when they had allowed us to leave Polei about a week since you had been missing, I had a visit with Lady Truly at the Ingostle church here.
“Although she tried to keep it secret, we had a private meeting about it. I was both grateful and discouraged to find you in the hospital. Lady Mella, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you. I promised to Lady Amalla that I would take care of you. I told her that she wouldn’t get into any danger and she would be safe with me. Lady Amalla was deeply concerned about you going, but you were so stubborn stu destinedabout going and you had set a goal to see your dad. It wasn’t until after you left that she realized that you were going to look for a father who was taken captive by General Khyro himself.
“I wanted to keep you busy, refrain you from wandering off to get into danger. That was, until you left with the boy. When your jeep was bombed and you just ended up being forced to leave the country, it broke my heart because I left you to go off alone. Why on Earth would you choose to find your dad after you had been seriously injured and away from your Ingostle group? Why didn’t you tell anyone that he was the captured General?”
“That was all I came for, Lady Lidiac. I love service and I love my religion, but my mother lied to me, it was too hard to leave my dad without knowing if he was okay or not.” Mella responded.
Lady Lidiac patted Mella’s hands.
“I”m just grateful you’re okay, but please, don’t do that again”
Mella laughed, but it caused a heavy cough to come after. A look of deep concern grew on Lady Lidiac’s face until it settled and Mella took a breath.
“I don’t ever plan to. Ever. My dream was to be an Ingostle. I wanted to let you know that when I first joined this church, I thought I would reach my dream and I would be happy. But I wasn’t. I didn’t feel like a Lady, I didn’t feel respected, I didn’t feel beautiful. I don’t think lady Amalla told you this, but I cried on the day of my coronation and it was the next day when I found out my father was captured. It wasn’t a good beginning for me, Lady Lidiac. I wanted to start over, but even if I had never found out about my father, I would still be miserable. I didn’t know how to show what I wanted. I needed a different goal to find out who I was. That was when this service project came up, that was when I realized I needed to do it, to find my dad. I hoped it would help me not only find my dad and get out of my misery, but to maybe discover more about myself.
“And I did.
“Lady Lidiac. I can’t tell you how amazing I feel right now no matter if I am sick and am still seriously injured. I feel like I accomplished something, not only by saving my dad, but I saved myself. For once, through all my adult life and a few weeks of being an Ingostle, I finally feel like a Lady.”
Chapter 21- The Departure
The Ingostles left the following day, the two weeks over for them to return back home to their Ingostle churches. Cromella had to stay, her body not well enough to take a flight back. As soon as the doctors would release her, she and her father would go home. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would work it all out. She had still set her life to be an Ingostle, but she wanted her family too. It was a hard decision to make while she had the extra time to think it through.
While she continued to spend her time in the hospital, she could feel her body antsy to leave, she wanted to be an Ingostle that she was meant to be, but instead, she was a hospital patient unable to even leave her room. Brant and General Westwood continued their frequent visits, keeping up with her and her life. She really got to know what her father did in the military and he got to know what she did living alone with her mother, it was wonderful to know more about her father more than she ever did. As for Brant, he liked to remain his secret spying journeys a secret, but he talked about his brother a lot, of his own family and his personal interests besides the job of a spy.
Rohana visited as well, speaking to Mella as a friend and getting to know her. Through all that Brant had said to her on the train, they seemed to be bond well, becoming closer friends.
Although, between all of this, thoughts of what to do when she got home and her life there was heavy in her head. There was also another thought. A thought she didn’t want to consider, as she had set her life as an Ingostle, a virgin. She never considered becoming such great friends to Brant. Mella thought of Brant a lot. Brant vowed his life to keep her safe and it made Mella appreciate him more than just a friend.
It was just a day with her and Brant. Her father was at a military meeting and Brant was alone with her. It got to things she wouldn’t have ever thought and it was hard, but she needed to let him know.
“Mella, I don’t know how it’s going to be like without you in my life. You’ve become someone I’ve wanted to protect instead of being commanded to protect. If you stay here, you could be with me. If you ever want to go to your country, we’ll move there, but I don’t want to leave your sight. You’ve become… a necessary part of my life” Brant explained, Mella and Brant sitting at the foot of her hospital bed.
“Brant… I can’t.”
Brant dropped his head.
“I’ve set my entire life to be an Ingostle.” Mella added.
“You can go to the church here, be a follower-”
“Brant.”
He heaved a sigh. He looked over the streaming light window, nodding.
“I understand.”
“An Ingostle is my life, I vowed to never marry, to keep my Ingostle standards, follow the book of Shei. You have been wonderful to me, I can’t tell you how eternally grateful I have been to have you in my life. You have helped me, encouraged me, guided me… healed me.”Brant looked back at her, “Because of you, I have realized who I was. Really. I have never met such a gentleman such as you. Because of your attributes, I know there will be someone who is desperately searching for a man like you to marry. You’ll find the girl, you’ll swoop her in your arms just like you did to me. You’ll find her, I promise you.”
It was a hard night for the both of them. Brant knew he wouldn’t be able to have Mella forever like he wanted, but he told himself he would visit her frequently whenever he got the chance. Mella knew it broke his heart, but her life was to be an Ingostle and she had made that decision years ago before she even became a fully committed one. When she’s called a fully committed Ingostle, she’s got to keep her standards.
It was about two days later when Mella was dressed in her full Ingostle attire heading to the airport with her father. Brant did not come along, but he bid her a long farewell as she hopped into her father’s blue truck to be taken on the plane. When they had reached it, Mella struggled to refrain from crying.
The plane had arrived on time and before she knew it, she was on the plane on the way back home. Although her father was at her side, sitting on the plane was a mixture of emotions. It upset her to leave like that from Brant, a true friend to her, but she would be able to see her Ingostle friends, to see Hellany. To see her mother.
Brant returned home when she left, his heart broken, but he was also happy for her, to be finally coming home safe. He sat in a more finished apartment, digging Mella’s knife into the wood of the table. He didn’t really know what else to do with his life. Mella was gone and he wasn’t busy with his job. He decided to settle in an actual home, thus the apartment room he bought. Although, between settling into a home of his own, he felt he had lost a large chunk of his life and threw it in the flames. Like his life bled out and stuck to the knife that killed General Khyro.
As Brant remained sitting there in unbelief of his lost life, his cell phone rang from his pocket. It took him a moment to react to it, but as the ring continually started to buzz in his pocket, he reached over and pulled it out, holding it to his ear.
“Hello?” He answered, still playing with the knife.
“Is this Brant?”
“Yes. I’m driving home from work, I’m just wondering if I could visit you.”
Brant instinctively looked over at the clock, but he was on any time crunch. He had no appointments, no time to be anywhere else. He was open all day and probably all week and a tiny part of him crushed inside. He turned back to his knife.
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
There was no question who it was. He knew it was Rohana, coming home from training her aerospace men in the air force. She arrived in the few minutes like she said.
“Where’s your daughter?” He asked as he handed Rohana a cup of coffee.
“I don’t usually take her to work, Brant. I have a nanny that takes care of her while I’m gone. I just got some thoughts while coming home and I’d thought to talk to you before I came back to my baby.”
“Is it about Tean?”
Rohana nodded, sitting down at the table in front of him.
“One of the men brought it up and it… well, he asked some personal questions that really put a downer on me. I mean, you saw how defensive I was when you asked personal questions on that train, well, I was tempted to slap him too... but I refrained. I cried on the way here though, so…”
“You had to go and vent to someone, I understand.” Brant finished.
Rohana sniffed, wiping a tear just barely falling down her face.
“It always makes you feel better. It’s so hard when you're all grown up and less and less of people you once knew become close friends. Tean was always the one I vented to, but ever since he left me, it has been increasingly hard to me. I’ve just been forced to keep things to myself.”
“We haven’t known each other too long. What gave you the inquiry to come to me?”
“Long enough, though. I just wanted to let you know that you are so much like Tean, that’s why I wanted to speak to you. Because it’s like I’m talking to him again. You have attributes of your own and I love them too, but it’s just how how you talk, how you walk, your personality, and… how polite you are. It just makes me think of Tean. Did you learn that from your dad?”
“No, our mother taught us how to be gentleman.”
Rohana smiled.
“That’s nice. I realized, after the train, that you were much more than I thought. You just have so much potential and love in you... I just want a part of Tean back in my home again.”
“Why don’t you then?”
“Because all that is left is me and my daughter. I’ve just learned to live without him.”
Brant considered what she said for a moment. He then struck the knife into the table and stood up. He gazed down at her, the looks of sorrow and love in her eyes, then he sat back down.
“Alright, tell me, Rohana, tell me everything.”
“Well… you’ve heard it all before. He told me about Tean and everything and at first I seemed okay, but then he started telling me that I shouldn’t have ever married him. He told me that he was a miserable careless man who barely knew how to even fly a plane yet he was a Major, so I wouldn’t know why he would be bad at flying. I had seen him fly, I didn’t believe him, yet, he was so sincere, so firm about it. Like he knew. I tried to not let it bother me, but it was everything else he told me that just made me crushed inside. He spent at least half an hour ranting and ranting about my husband and then he marched off. I don’t know how I held it in, but as soon as I ran off to the car, I was already in tears.
“He’s a horrible man. He better choke on what he told me, I hope he will regret it, but even will he apologize, he can’t take it back. It will forever be embedded in my head. It just hurt me to know that Tean wasn’t there to defend me. That man did the worst thing imaginable and I wanted to slap him. I wanted to punch him square in the face and- what are you doing?”
Brant had stood up again and had opened one of his kitchen drawers, pulling out a spool of wire and wire cutters. He returned back to the table and snipper about two inches of wire. There he wrapped it into a ring and twisted the ends until it left a little ball.
“You’re not going to-”
“Do you want that part of Tean in your home or not?” Brant asked as he stood in front of her.
She looked at him in both confusion and awe.
“That’s all I want, Brant.”
Brant knelt one knee.
“Then marry me, Rohana. I’ll be your Tean.”
Mella arrived at the airport with jet lag and excitement. There was two cars
awaiting for them. One was the car that belong to the Empress Cromella felt like she hadn’t seen for months and the other was her mother.
Although, she had already made her decision. She would go with Lady Amalla, the car with her mother was for her father. She would visit him, but her choice was to be in the church.
Before approaching Lady Amalla, Cromella approached her mother. Mrs. Westwood was covering her mouth, her face shining in tears of joy. She was already running towards Mella when she reached her arms around her daughter.
“Oh Mella, if I would’ve known… I’m sorry I’ve lied to you. I had no idea until just recently... when I saw it on the news.” Her mother cried, soaking Mella’s sleeve in her tears.
Mella was expecting her to keep crying, but she looked over at her husband and a gleam grew on her tearing face. General Westwood was going to hug her as well, but Mella’s mother would not allow it. She walked closer to her husband, grabbed the collar of his uniform and kissed him.
Mella gleamed as well, but then she turned over to Lady Amalla, her arms open wide for a hug as well. Cromella was a woman now, although it was pleasant to hug her mother, she had moved on. Lady Amalla had already walked over to Mella. She gave more of a formal hug, her gentle arms wrapping around Mella.
“Oh, Lady Cromella, how I’ve missed you.” She said as she dug her face in Mella’s shoulder.
Hellany was there too, but she stood by the car with her hands neatly overlapping in front of her. Mella opened her arms for the servant girl and she approached her.
“Welcome home, Lady Mella.”
“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind. I’ve prefer Lady Westwood, the rightful way to be called as an Ingostle.”
“Very well then, Lady Westwood,” Hellany said with a hearty laugh, “now let’s get you home.”
The mornings in Chire were usually filled with the beautiful tones of the two-hundred Ingostle women. Once a week, a session of sacred service would be administered in the Feminist Church of Ingost. It was Monday morning, the day of the Sabbath to the Ingostle followers. Hundreds of women in their best dress ran to the beautiful oak doors of what looked like a mansion of a multi millionaire gentleman. Although, it didn’t belong to a single man. It belonged to an entire church, a church with two hundred women living inside its walls.
When entering the church, a grand golden foyer would open up to the grand doors to the chapel with the spiral staircase twisting up beside it. As the followers would enter, the doors would open and a massive chapel would stand. The velvet padded pews held dozens of excited women, waiting for the session to begin. They talked amongst each other, sitting by their friends and visitors, discussing of lessons and social life, anxiously waiting for the revelation of a magnificent speech. Above, wrapping around the chapel, Ingostle women stood against the golden railings, their gloved hands resting on the wood. Standing behind the oak podium, fifty more women stood in their red form-fitting dresses, standing with so much poise, they looked like goddesses in a court. Their large hats hid a section of their painted faces, the beauty of their eyes seeming to look directly at each individual in the congregation. The head of the church, a woman in a large red dress that came out with a lace covered train, stood at the podium. With her straight posture, she stood so elegantly, her massive hat merely complementing her immaculate complexion. As she stood there at the podium, a smile upon her crimson lips, the congregation fell silent.
“Welcome Ladies!” She greeted, her gloved hands open to the people in the pews, “For those who have come for the first time, we appreciate your presence. We love newcomers, even if this is the only time coming here. Our church believes choice and divine nature and I hope you all will walk out of here with full hearts. So, as the beginning of this wonderful session, we will be singing: Shine and Divine.”
Although the Ingostles were beautiful singing for the prelude, it gave the congregation chills as they sang along, holding their hymn books with full commitment. The power of three hundred women singing in harmony brought tears to those listening both inside the church and outside. The Empress sat back down, the lyrics memorized from heart.
Cromella Westwood stood by the doors, unsure whether to enter or to leave. Although she desperately wanted to be part of the church, she hesitated. There was nothing wrong with the church, in fact being an Ingostle was always what she dreamed of, the problem was herself. She leaned against the door frame, whispering the lyrics under her breath
“Are you going in or out?” An Ingostle asked Cromella, politely looking at her under the deep make-up.
Cromella looked at the Ingostle in front of her and froze up, gazing at her in disbelief. She had never been this close to one before, but to see the make-up and the details upon their clothing was remarkable to a girl so primitive such as she. Her words wouldn’t come out of her mouth for several moments, but as the Ingostle continued to gaze, she nodded.
“Out I guess.” Cromella muttered, stepping away from the door so the Ingostle could close it.
To see the elegance of their stance, so perfect. Their vines painted upon their absolute faces so pristine, it was difficult to believe those woman were as human as Cromella herself. How beautiful they were to be so polite and wonderful, how they seem so perfect compared to Cromella’s life.
They had the beauty she felt she lacked.
Cromella exited the immaculate building, leaving the gates and returning home. Her mother watched Cromella as she approached her in a daze, a daze of deep thought. She felt terrible, yet wonderful at the same time. She was face to face with, what she considered, a celebrity, yet all she could do was compare. In her head, the image of that Ingostle lingered in her head like an idol. Her mother was out in front, trying to pull weeds from their tiny old house and instantly noticed Cromella.
“Mella, get out of your daze, you’re scaring me!” her mother snapped, approaching her. Her mother cocked her head, trying to understand why Cromella was feeling this way.
Then she placed her hands on her hips, “was there a boy?”
All Mella could do was shake her head as she still admired the image in her head.
“Did you try to go again?” Her mother wondered, slipping her green garden gloves from off her fingers.
Finally, Mella snapped out of it and looked at her mother, leaning against the white picket fence.
“They’re so gorgeous, mother. So thin and immaculate, so… wonderful. How they paint their faces and wear those elegant dresses. How they walk so ladylike, how they speak with so much politeness. I just… want to look like them.” Melle said in a forlorn way.
Her mother slapped Melle’s arm with her garden glove.
“Well you don't. It takes a lot to be like them and it’s unhealthy, especially for your size.”
Melle gazed down at her short round form and heaved a sigh. She was neither tall nor slender. Everything was wrong about her, that’s why she struggled to enter that chapel. Hurt, she bit her lip, gazing down at my stomach. She couldn’t see the zipper to her pants as rolls of fat blocked her view. It shouldn’t be that way, but what could she do about it when she wanted to be an Ingostle now. To lose weight would take weeks, if not months and she felt she had to do it now.
“I know.” she muttered, “I could be just a follower like everyone else and JUST hear the lessons.”
“That's what you love about it anyway, Mella, right?”
Mella lifted her head to look back at her mother.
“But there is more than just the lessons.”
Her mother shook her head, wrapping her fingers around her own large hips. Her green eyes, the same ones Cromella got, were stern, turning dark as she sternly looked at her daughter.
“Cromella, there are major cons about joining them. One, you won't fit in, you'll be the odd one of the bunch and you'll regret joining. You just don’t look like them and it would be near to impossible for you to even try. You’ve got to learn to appreciate what you have, what you love here instead of there. Two, you'll be leaving me! Family, it's limited to see and I would hate that. I love you with all of my heart and if you leave me, I’ll be alone and forgotten as you miserably live with women that are nothing like you. You need to think this through Mella before you decide to run off with those Ingostle women! It’s not just-”
“I have!” Mella snapped back, tears raining down her face.
She had been thinking about it all day, it hadn't left her head. It bothered her, yet that was all she wanted. It hurt her to realize she couldn’t, but she was so passionate about it, she couldn’t imagine living without it.
“I have been thinking about it for weeks. About the life I would have if I did decide to become an Ingostle. Yes, I would be leaving you and I don’t really have the shape of an average Ingostle, but they are just so… wonderful! I think of those stories of small people making big dreams and I wonder if I could do that too. It’s hard, but that’s all I want. Nothing is impossible mom, if I have to lose weight to become an Ingostle, than so be it, but I want to be one now. You don’t realize how hard it has been, to realize how impossible it could be for me to be what I want. I have thought about it.”
“Cromella-”
“Please, mom. Think of how your daughter will be when she follows her dream?”
Mella didn’t let her mother say anything else. Red faced and frustrated, Mella marched inside her house and threw herself on the couch of her living room.
While she sat on the couch, her mother entered the house and went straight to the kitchen, completely ignoring her. Mella heaved a sigh and got up to walk towards the bathroom, seeing herself in the mirror. She felt sick, she had seen that face so much yet never enjoyed to look at it. Mella squeezed her eyes shut and marched out, slamming her body on her bed.
“Mella, I’ve got lunch in the kitchen if you’d like some.” Her mother said from the door.
Mella, at first, didn’t listen. She only looked down at her pudgy fingers, a tear falling on her stretched skin.
“Mella!” her mother called again, “it’s time to eat!”
“Alright, I’m coming.”
Mella got up and followed her mother to the kitchen. She forced herself to eat, shoving the leftover casserole in her mouth without saying a word. Her mother was long finished before Mella did, but she didn’t much care. When she finally took her last bite, she heaved a sigh and shoved her head into her folded arms. The more Cromella thought about it, the more she realized the needed to be an Ingostle. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest, pumping blood as she seemed to shudder in joy of what she could become. Then it would diminish within seconds as she realized her mother's expectations and her own image would give her no chance into that church. It was merely a dream she would never make. That joy would quickly turn into grief and her soul felt like sinking, her body growing cold and feeling mentally dark.
“Oh Cromella,” her mother muttered, “stop being down on yourself. You have a happy life here, all of your happy moments have been here, never at that church.”
She lifted her head, “I am twenty-one though. Can’t I make my own decisions?”
“I am merely giving you suggestions. I’m not forcing you to not go, I know you are a grown woman, but wouldn’t you want to stay with me just a little while longer?”
“Twenty-one years, mom, I want to be an Ingostle.”
“Cromella, you wouldn’t be able to marry, have kids, a family. I would never have grandkids, you could find yourself getting into a royal mess and I would be a woman with not only a husband always gone but a daughter too.”
“I don’t care about a husband or kids, I want to be an Ingostle.” Mella tried, wishing to escape instead of argue with her mother.
When her mother realized the frustration building up, she took a deep breath, tensing her fingers to calm herself down. Mella’s mother tried to think of other alternatives and, as she looked back at Mella, she gave her a wry smile.
“Mella, if it will make you feel any better, we can go on a trip away from here, somewhere where you won’t see them or hear them. A good break from this burden you’re forcing on yourself. We can take a breather, have time to think of the situation.”
“But-”
“Just for a few days.”
“Mom, I don’t need to think it through. If I become an Ingostle, I’ll make friends in there. And you can always visit me.”
“Will it make you completely happy? Will it make me happy?”
Cromella shut her mouth, dropping her head back in her arms. She didn’t respond for a moment, sitting there in silence.
“I don’t know mother... I don’t know what to do.”
She was old enough to make her own decisions, so why was it so hard? Although she had been living with her mother her entire life, she was old enough to live off on her own. She was twenty-one. The Ingostle age limit was twenty. She could have left last year had she still not had those serious doubts about herself.
“How about we go to the Great Halmonacs. We haven’t been there for a long time and it’s a great place to enjoy and think.”
Mella stood up, wiping her tears with the back of her rounded hand and stuck her hands in her jeans.
“I guess visiting the Halmonacs would be nice.”
Her mother smiled.
“Great, we’ll leave this weekend. I’ll pack us a nice picnic that we can eat on the grey-sand beaches and we’ll stay in a good hotel just by the beautiful Halmonac statues.”
Mella felt numb to any more feeling. Dried tears stained her warm face, the thought of escaping was nice, but she wanted to escape without her mother around.
“Whatever works for you, I’ll do whatever.”
“Great, we’ll have a wonderful time. Somewhere to escape. Why don’t we actually leave tomorrow, go ahead and pack and we’ll go visit the Halmonacs. How does that sound?”
“It works fine.”
“Good.”
Mella returned back to her bedroom, her mind too wandered into deep thoughts to pack up for the next day yet. She looked over at the window, spotting a small group of Ingostles walking down the street handing invitations of their church to people on the sidewalks. One noticed Mella looking at them through the wide open window and she waved a black gloved hand to her with a welcoming smile. Mella hesitated, but then gave a tiny wave back before closing the curtains. As soon as the canvas curtains covered the light from her window, her bedroom looked dark and alone. Mella merely just stared at her bedroom, leaning against her bedroom wall. In the corner, an open suitcase waited to be packed with clothes. It was open for her chance to be an Ingostle, but this time, it would be the escape with her mother to a childhood memory.
“Maybe leaving for a bit will let me think.” Mella told herself, trying to act excited as she picked out her clothes to throw into the suitcase.
Chapter 2- The Halmonacs
It was about a two hour drive to the Halmonacs down East. Mella had convinced herself that she was going to have a good time getting away from her little town of Chire, but there was still that tiny part of her that knew this was a useless trip. Between all the trouble, she tried her best to enjoy this trip her mother wanted her to have. On the car ride, they belted out songs while pounding their hands on the open window of the car and slurping down milkshakes on the way.
“Make it rain, make it rain. Cuz that man is driving me insane. I hope to find my way out of this place…” they continued to scream the jumpy words out, bouncing in their seats as they made their way down the highway. This continued on for about an hour before Cromella was snoring on the window sill, her mother humming to herself as she continued to drive down the road.
Around the highway there was mostly just grassland with some tiny towns here and there. The Halmonacs wasn’t in any sort of city, it was a monumental place that didn’t really belong to anyone. It was a tourist sight, so there was a small touring old town for visitors as they made their way to the Halmonacs, places where they could buy overpriced souvenirs and postcards. Mella was still asleep when her mother passed through the old town, the little amount of people there walking out of the stores with a dreamcatcher that they probably spent four times as much on and possibly a keychain that will break off a week after they put it on.
While the tourist town seemed dead, the sight was quite remarkable even though it didn’t have much people at all. Besides, it was the off season, it would multiply by the thousands when summer arrived. After the town, Mella’s mother drove down a road that ran across the grey sand beaches, the darkened water brushing over the lightly tinted grey and leaving a glitter of wet sand particles across the shores. It wasn’t until the little car hit a large bump in the low-maintenance road that she woke up with a jolt, her eyes instantly looking over at the beach. Although she couldn’t see the Halmonacs yet, just seeing the beach so close was relaxing to her.
The Halmonacs were from the extinct civilization of The Moux. They were statues built on strong stones on the shores of the grey-sand beaches built to at least 200 feet tall. Their structure was so strong, these statues had withstanded the massive waves for hundreds of years, holding their staffs and their stone faces sternly looking over the seas. There was six of these Halmonacs, standing about 800 feet from each other, right against the rushing waters of the big blue. As the car continued on down the road, the statues started to come into view.
Once they were parked, Mella scurried out of the car and stood on the edge of the parking lot, leaning against the railing. They looked like real men, petrified in stone as they stood to protect the once-existing Moux. That’s what they were, to intimidate. Those out in sea destined to take over lands would see the overwhelming statues guarding the shores, and they would flee in the intimidation of the structures. They stood in a battle stance, one fist clamped to its side while the other is held firmly to its armored chest. It’s feet stood parallel to the ground, feet slightly apart to show aggression and stability. If they were real men, they would not be ones to mess with.
A large dock took out far enough that tourists could walk to the end of it and admire the front ends of the statues. Mella and her mother stood at the far end of that dock, gazing at the determined faces on those statues, as if any ship in their sight would flee from them in an instant. Mella leaned against the railing, resting her chin on her hand as she admired the Halmonac statues.
It was a time of war. She knew about war all too well as if civilization never learned from it’s past. The moux still fell extinct, an unknown phenomenon that scientists couldn’t quite find the right theory for. They were so strong and smart, they were strong in their military, their physiology, their architecture, everything was remarkable, yet… they no longer existed. That was what was so hard, to realize another war is going on at that moment and, even though civilization is power, it still could end up as the Moux. Extinct.
With the deep thoughts of the roaring waves crashing over the still-standing statues, she didn’t notice one of those massive waves come splashing over the dock. It struck the wood and exploded, masses of water pouring over her in an instant. Mella screamed, the cold water striking her unexpectedly. Dripping, her mother gasped and Mella gazed down at her soaked thin white t-shirt.
Now the white shirt was nearly see through.
Mella’s face went beat red. There was little around, but standing out in the open feeling like she wasn’t wearing a shirt was humiliating.
“Mom!!” Mella screamed in panic, bending over dripping in the cold ocean spray.
Trying not to laugh harder than she already was, her mother uncovered her mouth to say:
“I’m sorry sweetheart, can’t help you.”
Even though it was cooler outside, her mother did not bring a jacket or anything to cover Mella with.
“I can’t go walking around like this.”
“Then here, take my shawl.” a voice said from behind.
Mella slowly turned around, embarrassed to turn to the witness behind her. There, standing behind her was a small group of Ingostles of about six women, standing with their red dresses and black shawls wrapped over their shoulders, their hats elegantly covering the hazy sun from their painted faces.
“Sh-shawl?” Mella asked, already shivering.
Mella had left to the Halmonacs to get away from seeing them, yet they were right there. Her mother remained silent by the time they showed up and Mella merely gazed at them in awe.
“Of course, here you go sweet girl.” the Ingostle said, pulling the shawl off of her shoulders and placing it on hers. Mella was speechless, but accepted the shawl. She wanted to say something like “I don’t want to take your shawl” or even just a simple “thank you”, but the six young women left and Mella was alone with her mother again.
“Bummer.” her mother said, “I brought you here to avoid them and you still run into them.”
Mella was still watching the red dresses get smaller and smaller, the brightest color within the greys and blacks of the halmonac beaches.
“Maybe it's meant to be.” Mella whispered to herself, but loud enough for her mother to hear as she gazed down at the shawl around her shoulders.
Mella’s mother shook her head in confusion, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
She turned to her mother, “Maybe it's meant that I’m supposed to join this church. They keep showing up in my life and it just gives me more of a chance. I think they want me to join them.” Mella explained
“That’s ridiculous! You’re thinking too much on the problem, they're probably trying to get you to not join. You know you’ll never fit in those dresses and maybe they just keep showing up because they don’t want you to.”
Mella shook her head, turning away from her mother.
“I don’t think so.”
“We didn’t come here to talk about those Ingostles.”
“Than why did you bring it up?”
“Because they showed up.”
“Which gives me a better reason to think that this is meant to be. That I’m supposed to go this church.”
Her mother snatched her arm.
“Let's get to the hotel, I've seen enough of these statues.” she said, the shawl not quite covering everything she needed on her clear wet shirt as her mother pulled her away.
The hotel was not bad, but Mella was hoping something more homey, but she would deal with it for a couple of nights. When she was in the room, she huffed and sat on the bed, resting her chin on her hand. Her mother had brought home chicken fried steak from a nearby restaurant and they ate in the half kitchen as the sun settled down into the grey ocean. They sat down together as they watched some of the television, continuing to snack on chips and candy as they watched. Mella wanted to be outside where she could breathe and admire the Halmonacs, but she remained next to her mother on the bed. Although her mother laughed hard on the things happening on the television, Mella just sat there in her own deep thoughts about the Ingostle women. She had long changed into a new shirt and just played with the wet black knitted shawl. The yarn was so soft, and it was crocheted so elegantly.
As the evening grew on, Mella tucked into her covers, still gazing at the shawl under the blanket.
“You’ll need to get it back to her, Mella. And if you don’t find her, I suggest you send that shawl to a thrift store or a charity.” Her mother said rhetorically.
“Good night, mother.”
That night, deep in her own dreams, she stood in her Ingostle dress standing in front of the Empress. She looked Cromella up and down and scoffed,swiping her hand away from her.
“I’m sorry, that dress didn't seem to fit you well, you've got to much fat on your pudgy little body to fit such a slender fitting dress. I can't let you into my church, it's disgraceful to the public.”
“I’m a… I’m a disgrace?”
“In my church, yes. Your beauty shows elsewhere but not here. Go back home miss Westwood, you’ll like it there better than here.”
Disappointed, Cromella found herself dragging herself out of the church doors, Ingostles laughing at her on the way. They stood in rows, their eyes following her as she approached the door.
“Your so pudgy Cromella.”
“Go home to your mommy.”
“Just not pretty enough huh?”
“Disgrace to the public.”
“You’re not even lady-like.”
“You’ll never fit in no matter where you go.”
By the time she left those doors, she was in tears, falling to her knees on the steps of the churchouse.
“I’m a disgrace.” She whimpered.
Her mother approached her, resting her hand on her shoulder. Cromella gazed up at her mother, tears heavy in her eyes.
“Come on Cromella, it’s time to go home where you’ll be happy.”
“Hah! Cromella is still living with her mom!” Another chimed.
“She’ll probably still be living with her when she’s fifty years old.”
“Stop it.” Cromella said, but it only came out as a squeak, “stop it.” She tried again, but it wasn’t any louder.
“There is no way for sweet pudgy Mella to have a social life. We all know she wasn’t liked at school, most just pretended to like her. She thinks she can fit in with us Ingostles, but she won’t and so we won’t let her. Go live with your mom, Cromella Westwood, that’s all the life you're ever going to get. Go home! Go home-”
Cromella tensed, squeezing her hands tight in fists.
“Go home, Cromella. Go live with your mom until your death bed. Go home!”
“STOP!!!!!!!!!!” Cromella screamed, turning back to the women.
They froze up and in a puff, they all disappeared and all went quiet. Breathing heavily, Mella turned to her mother and shook her head.
“Let’s go home, Mella.” Her mother tried, reaching over and placing her hands on Cromella’s shoulders.
Mella jerked the hands away, glaring at her mother.
“My home is not where you think it is!” She cried, “I’m meant to be here. Because of you, you have set my dreams to doubt where I really belong. None of them are like that, I am a woman. I want to be a lady. But to do that, I am going to join this church whether you like it or not.”
Cromella started marching back into the church, but her mother snatched her arm.
“Mella, please!”
“Mother, I am twenty-one years old. I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Now leave me alone, I’m going to be an Ingostle.”
Cromella woke up from the dream speechless. It seemed so real, but so quickly it had happened. Her chest burned in anger and frustration and the feelings towards her mother and the Ingostles struck her through. She needed a moment to think, think without her mother hovering around her or anyone else. She slipped out of the bed and walked out of the motel.
Although it was cooler outside, it was nice to feel the midnight breeze brush against her pale skin. She walked on the shores of the beach, staring at the large moon shining over the black water, peeking between the statues with its hazy glow.
She was old enough to make her own decisions. She had her own agency, her mother had no control over her, yet, at the same time, she loved her mother, why would she disobey her mother’s expectations? Yes, she was an only child, living alone with only her mother as her father fought across the world. So why was it so hard what her mother decided for her? Mella was an adult, if she wanted to be an Ingostle, she could choose to do so without her mother's consent. That what was so hard, though, the fact that her mother disagreed with her choice, holding her back from reaching her dream.
Mella heaved a sigh and fell in the sand, digging her face in her hands. The sounds of the waves was soothing, but it wouldn’t forever help her situation. She was floating in this unknown life that had an unknown future, she didn’t want to live with her mother until she was fifty, but where else would she go? She had a dream for a future that so many people doubted she could do. Maybe she did just deserve to stay home with her mother forever, living in her basement at fifty years old with no social life and no family.
That was nothing of what she wanted though.
Wiping her tears, Cromella continued to gaze into the night sky. The stars were better to see being near only a small town. The lack of light pollution allowed Mella to look at the bright stars and see every detail in the sky; the pigment of blue, the shapes of constellations or the cloudy purple colors of her galaxy strung across the evening. She sat there for several minutes in deep thought, wanting to just cry until she resolved it if resolving it at that moment was possible.
As she sat there, a gust of wind whipped her auburn hair and a long piece of cloth hit her arm. She broke off from her thoughts and reached over to pick up the cloth that flew to her, holding it up with both of her hands to take a closer look. It took her a moment to realize what it was, but as she gazed at the cloth, sewn into a tube, one open while the other was closed off and separated into five sections. It had to be only one thing
It was a long black lace glove.
It was from an elegant hand of an Ingostle. She wondered if it was the Ingostle who offered her the shawl earlier that day, but there was more than just her on that beach. Mella slipped her hand into the glove, her hand barely fitting into it’s slender fingers. She couldn’t keep the glove on for long as she started to see the seams splitting, the fabric ripping as it strained to keep it’s shape. She pulled it off, throwing it into the sand in frustration. She glared at it for a moment before gathering up sand and burying it, slamming her hands over the buried glove.
She sat there in silence staring down at the pile beside her. All she could think about was the glove under the mound. She brushed away the sand, the glove sitting there ripped and covered, no longer the beautiful glove that hit her during that gust of wind. She picked it up, squeezing the fabric in her chubby fingers and holding it to her chest as she cried in the dark of the night.
Chapter 3- Lady Amalla
Cromella had never felt more miserable. She felt utterly alone even if her mother was still there all the time, as if she didn’t have anyone to support her decisions. Doubts of her own self filled her mind, of this decision she wanted so terribly, yet nobody seemed to encourage her.
As soon as Mella arrived home, she swiftly walked to her bedroom where she slammed her body on her bed. Although her mother didn’t know exactly what happened, she knew it was something she wouldn’t confront at the moment. She left Mella alone in her bedroom while she did some housework.
As Cromella moped in her bed, a knock came at the front door. Usually she was the one who would answer, but her mother would answer this time. Her mother opened the door, almost not surprised at the fact that it was the very woman she never wished to see. An Ingostle. In specific, an Empress. She stood in her massive red Empress dress, the black lace train run down her stairs. The Empress tilted her head in a formal greeting, her face hidden in her massive hat.
“Mrs.Westwood.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Yes, may I come in?”
Although she hesitated, Mrs. Westwood nodded and opened the door wider. The Empress entered, taking a seat on the living room chair across from Mrs. Westwood. The Empress sat so poised on the chair, gazing at Mrs. Westwood with admiration. Although she seemed too unreal, as if she was some perfect princess in a fairy tale, a figurine in an immodest house. Mrs. Westwood sat across the room unsure what to do with the perfect woman or what to say, looking at her like some god she didn’t believe in to find her actually real.
For quite a few minutes, the Empress spoke to Mrs. Westwood , but then she insisted for Cromella to come in here so she could speak to her. Mrs. Westwood agreed, knowing Cromella would love to see her, even if she, herself, did not. Nevertheless, Mella’s mother would do as the Empress insisted since she was the guest at the moment.
“Cromella!” Her mother called, “someone is here to meet you, can you come out of your room please?”
Cromella hesitated, not knowing who it was in her living room, but she would do as her mother asked. Groaning, Mella got out of bed, running her fingers through her tangled light brown hair as she dragged her feet down the hall. She didn’t really care who was at the door, she just wanted to be alone. As she stepped into the living room, it took her a moment to realize the massive red gown of the immaculate woman. The Empress. Mella’s eyes grew wide and she darted away towards the bathroom. She leaned against the counter in the bathroom, gazing through the mirror of her disheveled self and trying to catch her breath.
“Cromella, don’t be rude. Come back in here!”
“Just give me a moment!” She called.
Now excited, she quickly snatched a brush, trying to groom her hair to realize the brush was only getting caught in the ratted up mess of her hair. Unsure what else to do, her excitement and anxiety so high, she threw a sunhat over her mess and threw on a jacket to dress up her grungy shirt. She returned just seconds later embarrassed and unprepared, trying to straighten her shirt as she reentered the living room. Stiffening up, she gave an awkward wave as the Empress stood up to greet her.
“Hello Cromella, how are you dear?” She asked, a warm smile upon her lips.
“Uh… grange-gr-grun-great! I’m doing great.” She said, the words being forced out of her mouth, but it only embarrassed her more.
Cromella shrunk, looking up at the tall slender woman in front of her. The Empress's smile grew wider, tipping her head. Her blue eyes gazed through the veil draped over the massive hat, her hat tipped to only see the shadow of her face.
“My name is Lady Amalla. I wanted to stop by and say hello as to see how you are doing. Some of my ladies had gone down to the Halmonacs to clean up the water grime on that sight-seeing bridge, as a service project of course, and I had heard they had run into you. They had just arrived when they saw you. They thought they recognized you from here and when they described to me how wonderful you were, I almost immediately knew who it was.”
All Mella was thinking was how the Ingostles described the situation. Seeing a girl who looked practically half naked as her shirt was completely see through. If they had described her to Lady Amalla, would they have mentioned that she is overweight and struggles with socializing? Mella kept those thoughts deep in her head and thought of other things to say.
“Did they work in those dresses?” She managed to ask, thinking of how they were supposed to be doing a service project and they were in their beautiful dresses.
“Oh no, they don’t work in those dresses. We wear other clothes when we are working dear, we don’t want to get these gowns dirty do we not? Well, after that big splash of water and everything, I was so overjoyed that one of my Ladies offered you her shawl. How embarrassing that might have been.” Mella grew red, unsure what to say to the comment. Supposedly, the Ingostles had told their Empress everything and it made the situation ever more worse.
“However,” she added, “once they had told me, I had the impression to come visit you. Oh Cromella, you may think you aren’t seen standing by those doors just before the session begins, but I notice you, dear. Maybe Monday you can actually come in and listen to the full thing.” She said.
Mella wasn’t sure what to say. She wouldn’t have ever thought the Empress would notice her clear back there in the chapel, let alone knowing where she lived and what her name was. Unless, of course, her mother told the Empress her name, but how would she know where Cromella lived? Who she was, how she knew it was her that was living in this house and comes to every session to only leave before it even starts.
“I would love to but-...”
“But what, dear?”
Mella dropped her head, not sure how to respond without breaking into tears. She shook her head, this was the wrong time, why did the Empress have to show up now? At this time? Lady Amalla reached down and gently clenched her wrists, Cromella returned her glance up at the Empress.
“Although I don’t know you that well, I know you enough that you are more than what you think you are. My dear-”
“I just-” Cromella choked, the words hiding deep inside her.
“You just what?”
“I want to be an Ingostle.” Mella managed to say.
Behind the Empress, her mother stood, leaning against the wall, arms folded in the mixed thought of this situation. She knew it would get to this point but she wasn’t hoping for it to happen, not now anyway. Mrs. Westwood gave a look that warned Mella, it was a look of hurt, a look of betrayal. Mrs. Westwood then shook her head, walking off to leave Mella alone with the Ingostle leader. Lady Amalla placed two fingers under Mella’s chin and gently lifted her face, her bright blue eyes looking directly into Mella’s green ones.
“Then, my dear, why haven’t you said anything?”
“Because… because I didn’t think I… I could.”
“Anyone can, Cromella. If you wish to be an Ingostle, I will make you one.”
“Really?”
The Empress nodded and Mella burst into more tears.
“When can I become one?”
“When the time is right, we can decide a date for you.”
Mella straightened, inhaling a deep breath. She didn’t think about it any more until she said:
“I’m ready now.”
Lady Amalla gleamed, her eyes like moon crescents.
“Very well then, how does Saturday sound for you?”
“In three days?”
Lady Amalla nodded. Mella bit her lip, looking around her. She was grateful her mother had left because her presence would quickly change her mind, but now she was under pressure, it was all on her own decision. Nobody else, not even her mother. This was all she wanted and the opportunity was right there….Yet it all seemed too easy. She swerved her head back to the Empress.
“Alright, I’ll do it.”
“Great, come at noon this Saturday, we’ll coronate you into our religion at Three o’clock sharp on that same day. And make sure your mother comes. Anytime between now and 3 o’clock on Saturday, you can change your mind and I will not judge you if you tell me you no longer want to be an Ingostle. It takes a lot of commitment to be one and I’ll perfectly understand if you feel like becoming an Ingostle is too much. Your life would be at the church, you would read the holy words with us, you would pray with us, you would set your life to services constantly throughout the day, you would wear what we wear every single day, you would live with us, eat with us, laugh with us, cry with us and especially be a part of our family.”
“It sounds wonderful.” Mella cried, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“Very well then, I hope to see you Saturday, my dear. Say good-bye to your mother for me, it seems she had disappeared. Let her know of her coronation, I hope to see her sitting in the chapel watching you get coronated. I’m looking forward to you joining our church. I must apologize for such a short amount of time, but I must get going, Cromella, however I wish you luck as you prepare yourself for the big day three days from today. Farewell, my dear.”
Lady Amalla left and Mella watched as she walked back to the church. She would have expected her to take some fancy car to her house, but she didn’t even have anyone else. It was just her that walked on her own down a mile or so to her house and back to the church. Mella fell on the couch, staring up at the ceiling in awe. She didn’t know what else to say, what else to do. She was invited to join the church by the leader herself, inside her own scroungy little house. Her mother was wrong, her dreams were wrong, Lady Amalla didn’t seem to doubt her one bit. In fact she... encouraged her.
Her mother appeared in the room, unusually silent. She kept her hands in the pockets of her jacket as she sat across from her daughter, hovering with no words, just silence. A darkness had seemed to envelope the room, her mother’s eyes dark as they peered at her daughter.
“Mella, did you... agree?” Her mother asked, but it sounded hurt.
“I did and it was wonderful.” Mella responded, playing with the corner of her shirt as she gazed up at the ceiling.
Her mother just stood there for several more moments, biting her lip. Her fists clenched and she ran over to her daughter, falling to her knees. She gripped her daughter's arm in desperation, looking at her with so much concern and hurtfulness.
“Mella, you need to listen to me!” She snapped, gripping her fingers tighter around Mella’s arm.
Cromella looked down at her mother.
“Yes mom?”
"Mella, please. These people aren’t right for you.”
“But she was so accepting. She didn’t even hesitate to invite me to join. She looked past my looks she-”
“Mella, listen to me!! You don't deserve to be going to such a formal church, you aren't... pretty enough, you don't talk like them and you don't even have the looks. You'll be left out, lost and forgotten. You would be better off without those… Ingostle prissy’s." She screamed.
Mella snapped out of her daze, looking at her mother in surprise. She had known her mother say bad things about her looks, but the fact that she wasn’t pretty enough. Mella tensed her jaw, looking down at her body in doubt. She jerked her arm away from her mother's grasp and stared at her pudgy fingers. The Empress was so accepting, so kind to her, she saw beyond her looks, beyond her weaknesses. Her face started to turn red, holding her breath as she continued to think of all her mother said and all the Empress said and all that she agreed and said. She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She squeezed her fingers into her palm and whipped her head back to her mother. Her mother just looked at her in desperation and it angered Mella more. She stood up, pulling away from the constant grabbing her mother was trying to do to keep her down.
"Well... If they have a dress my size, they'll have a spot for me in that church too!" She started towards the door, but before she left, she glared at Mrs. Westwood, “now mother, I’m going for a walk. I need to get out of this stuffy house and have a breather without you.”
As Cromella opened the door as her mother stood up, tears bursting out of her eyes.
“Mella!!!!” She whined.
“No mother!” Cromella snapped, “I am a grown woman who can make my own decisions. This has been my decision whether you’ve liked it or not! I have chosen this path and you don’t need to tell me if it’s wrong or not, because I can do what I want to do. You can’t control my entire life!”
Her mother fell silent as Cromella started to walk out.
“I’ll be back… later.”
As Cromella marched out the door, her mother ran to the frame, breathing heavily as she watched her daughter walk away.
“Cromella Westwood, you get back here!”
But she merely ignored her mother as she walked off in the distance, her mother calling her name until Mella could no longer hear her cries.
Chapter 4- Coronation Day
Cromella came home relaxed and at a form of peace. It was late in the evening, her mother sitting on the couch in the dark with the yellow lamp next to her. She held a book on her lap but didn’t read, she, instead, was looking at her daughter as she walked in.
“Finally came home did you?”
She was more than unhappy, Mella could feel the heartbreaking look her mother was giving her and it crushed her to know her decision wasn’t agreed upon. Mella rolled her shoulders back.
“Just needed to breathe.”
“Where did you go might I ask?”
“I just took a walk.”
“For four hours?”
“A very long walk.”
Her mother returned to her book shaking her head. Mella knew her mother had no words to describe her thoughts about her daughter, but she made this decision and she wasn’t going to change it.
“Good night, mother.”
“Did you only come home to go to bed? Will you leave me again in the morning?”
“I want to be with you before I go, mom, but… it’s late. I’m going to bed.”
“You can at least talk to me for a few minutes.”
“About what? You know what happened, I made the decision and I’m not changing it.”
Mrs. Westwood flared her nostrils, staring at her daughter until she quickly returned her eyes to the book.
“Good night then.”
Mella returned to her bedroom where she was able to have her good night's rest.
Her mother cried in the living room.
As the next couple of days came along, Mella spent her time in her bedroom, admiring the Ingostles walking down the streets and deciding what little things she could pack. Some valuables such as Heirlooms and gifts she placed in her little suitcase with as well a small amount of clothes. Her mother refused to speak to her, not even bothering to call for dinner. By the time Cromella would come out for dinner, the table would be cleaned, dishes would be done and the food would be in the fridge if there was any left. It seemed like her mother was already ready for Mella to not be home anymore.
Whenever her mother would be in the living room or the kitchen, she would completely avoid eye contact, keeping her focus on reading or cooking. Mella wanted to talk to her, hope to have her mother understand why she made this decision, but it seemed her mother would ignore her from then on.
As the morning of the coronation came, Mella was up and ready, her hair nicely groomed with the best dress she could find in her second class closet. Her suitcase was already waiting by the door and as she walked into the living room, her mother sat there beside it. And she was looking directly at Cromella. She held a letter in her hand, the look she was giving unpredictable. Something was up and it had to do with what was in her hand.
“Mella.” She finally said after so long of a silence within the house.
Cromella approached her mother, the letter handed to her. She held the envelope, staring at the ink on the paper:
To: The Westwoods
From: The Hechz Republic
Mella knew where it came from, she just wasn’t sure what to say according to her mother's face or the addressing on the envelope. Was it bad news or was it good? That was something she struggled to admit.
“Your father is coming home on Sunday.” She said very quietly.
“But he’s a general, he still has ten years left.” Mella said, unsure what else to say.
“Well he’s coming home early.”
“But why?”
“He-” Mrs. Westwood closed her eyes, “there was an explosion.”
Mella’s heart stopped short. An explosion? At this time?
“They sent him home because he got hurt?”
“He lost his left arm.”
Mella fell on the couch, staring at the ground in disbelief. She hadn’t seen her father for so long, how exciting it would be to see him again, even if he only had a right arm. Her heart skipped a beat, realizing what she was getting into. She reached into the envelope, pulling out the paper. It couldn’t be now, not right before she was going to leave her home, her mother, and her father in this case. Unfolding the sheet of paper, she gazed at the high class letter.
To Mrs. Lamenna Westwood,
We are sorry to inform you that your husband, Mr. Heil Westwood, was caught in an explosion near the border of Rumbeig. Luckily, your husband did survive but with some major injuries including a major concussion and the loss of his left arm at the femur. Because of his injuries, we are afraid that we have to send the General home. We have recruited a new General to take his place as General Heil Westwood is unable to continue in command. He will report home on Sunday, May 17, please be aware of his misfortunes. Thank you.
Although it was real in her hands, something was wrong with it. She knew it was the disbelief on what happened to her father, to have to send a General home. It would be so hard, to realize soldiers were losing their General because he lost his arm and couldn’t function correctly with his concussion. She read it a hundred times over, finding it almost casual as if they wanted to be more personal in the letter. It was definitely a letter written specifically for her mother, but it still… something wasn’t right.
“Is this a trick?” Mella spat, standing up and throwing the paper on her mothers lap.
She shook her head.
“I’m afraid not, Mella.”
“Right now, though! Does it have to be right now?” She screamed, grabbing the ends of her hair in panic.
Desperate, her mother snatched her daughter's hand. Begging.
“Mella please, stay to see your father.”
“I’ve already decided to join them.” Mella explained, trying not to panic inside, but it seemed like it was too late.
She jerked her wrist away from her mother's grasp. She didn’t know what to think.
“Mella!”
“They’ll probably let me go to see my father. He is so important to me, but by being a part of the Ingostles is just as important to me. I can’t just… cancel the coronation.”
“Then what? You’ll still go?!” her mother asked in defeat, “you’ll never get to see him come home.”
Mella smiled, “Dad would be proud that I’m following my dream.”
Her mother didn’t respond.
“Dad would be happier to see you home though, Mella!”
“It has been decided! I can’t change it, not now!”
Mella looked up at the clock, realizing she would be late if she didn’t leave right at the moment. Her mother realized the time and grabbed Mella’s wrist again.
“Your father needs you! You can still cancel it.”
“But what if I don’t want to?!”
“Cromella, please-”
“It’s time for me go.”
“You can’t leave me like this.”
“I will still get the chance to see you, mother. Plus, I’ll be back tomorrow to see dad.
“That’s a visit though.”
“I’m down the street, I’ll always be just down the street.”
“Down the street is too far for me.”
“I’m not going to live with you for the rest of my life. I’m twenty-one years old, I should be taking my own path instead of living with my mother for the rest of my life.”
“I’m just not ready for you to leave.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Mella please-”
“In fact, mom, you can come to my coronation. Then you’ll see me again today. You’ll see me in my Ingostle dress and I’ll be happy. Happy! It’s at three, in the chapel.”
Her mother puffed through her nose.
“I’ll think about it.”
Cromella grabbed her little suitcase, approaching the door. As she stood at the door, she sighed, turning to her mother. She was supposed to leave a couple of minutes ago.
“Mom please don't let me leave like this. You don't even want to say good bye. Please, I can't leave like this.” She begged, looking at her mother who didn’t even seem to give a hint of farewell.
Her mother stood up.
“Then don't leave at all.I don't want to say goodbye because it's not a GOOD bye. It’s a terrible bye and I don’t want to say it. Your dad is coming home, let your father see you. That’s all I want, to have you and dad home. Please, you can still cancel it right now-”
“Mom.” Mella tried, but she knew she would never be convinced that she deserved to join the church, “good bye, mom. .. I love you.”
Mella walked to the church. She had those mixed feelings of anxiety, excitement, regret, doubts, and fear. As she approached the grounds of the mansion of the church house, she suddenly felt sick. Her stomach lurched, her body feeling cold and the anxiety of forgetting something or the fear of bringing the wrong things twisting terrible thoughts in her overthinking mind. The way she left her mother just made her sick in the stomach to add to the other stresses, let alone the thoughts of her father and the thoughts of her very own self. She refused to cry, but the choke in her throat, she knew, wouldn’t hold in forever. As she approached the front, she was greeted by a servant girl and two Ingostles at the door.
“How pleased we are too see you. Come on in, Cromella, Lady Amalla would like to speak to you before you get ready for the coronation.” The servant girl said.
Mella was escorted to her office, feeling filthy in the immaculate halls. The hallway looked like it was gold leafed, elegant designs across the walls and dark wood doors leading to the Empress’s door where it would lead to another remarkable room. The door was opened at the end of the hall to show the Empress’s suite. Couches were placed in the corner with a fireplace, a massive window to light the crimson room, an environment so perfect. On the other side, the large desk held the work she did throughout the day neatly organized on her mahogany desk, her chair large and red-brown leather to add to the scarlet atmosphere. A couple of velvety red chairs surrounded the desk and an elaborate lamp stood, bringing light to that side of the massive wonderful room.
Lady Amalla was just entering from another side of the room, slipping back on her black gloves and approaching her desk without looking up when Mella waited there. She gleamed when she saw Cromella, her hands out in greeting. Lady Amalla kissed the side of Mellas face and gleamed, holding Mella’s hands in hers.
“My dear Cromella, how wonderful it is to see you. Have a seat on the couch, we’ll be more comfortable there instead of at my desk.”
Mella took a seat on the couch, her body sinking into its increasingly soft floral cushions. She wanted to slump over into a casual but comfortable position, but she already felt so immodest just standing there. She straightened her back, sitting at the edge of the couch while Lady Amalla sat across from her.
“Now the reason I wanted to speak to you before was because I wanted to let you know your commitment towards this. Only those with a pure objective and purpose in this church can join. With any lack, they should reconsider their decisions. Several have left seconds before becoming a lady, you can do the same if needed. It’s a wonderful opportunity, but it is a lifelong commitment. I know of your motives and I feel you will grow and do wonderfully as a full member of the Feminist Church of Ingost. I do not wish, however, to put you on the spot. If there is a conflict, I would advise you to reconsider such commitment as an Ingostle. If you decide to do so, I would love for you to come to more of our sessions and participate as a follower where you will still learn and develope from our lessons.
“When you enter your bedroom tonight, you will receive a rule book, please read it thoroughly. If any rules are broken you will have clearly shown your commitment in this religion was false and you'll be disconnected from the Ingostles. We Ingostles follow protocol to create order and the journey towards Edda’s perfection. The rule book will be necessary to follow for this commitment. You will as well get our Holy Scriptures: The Shei, where you will personally read every night and morning before you do anything else. The Shei is the key book of our religion so it is also a part of our order to read The Shei at the least, twice a day.
“It’s going to be hard. We will do a lot of service projects that may cause some physical work and some that we may do in our own church building. Everyday, lessons will be provided with as well the opportunity to even take trips for service. Our motive is to Shine for a divine life in heaven. We hope to all make it up to Edda.”
“I’ve been wanting this my entire life and I will do anything to become one.” Mella added, knowing that was what she told herself repeatedly in her head.
She almost second guessed herself when Lady Amalla mentioned of any conflicts. She did have conflicts, but she wanted to be an Ingostle more than ever. Her mother shouldn’t stop her now while she was so close into becoming one.
“Very well, you still have a couple of hours to change your mind but if you are absolutely and fully committed than... welcome, my dear. Do you have any questions for me before we get you ready?”
The first thought that came to mind was her father, it was what left such an unpleasant farewell as she left the house.
“Yes.”
“Please.”
“My father. I haven't seen him for five years because he’s a general in the Hechz Republic… but he was injured and he's coming home tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, but by then I’ll be an Ingostle and I don't know if I’ll get that chance to see him.”
Lady Amalla grew that warm smile that just sent a pleasant message that everything was going to be okay.
“My dear, I don’t see why you can't see him.”
“But isn’t there a rule that when you become an Ingostle, you can’t see family anymore?”
“I can't take you away from everything being an Ingostle. Seeing your father is an exception, especially when you haven’t seen him for so long. Which is in the book, you can only leave the grounds under specific reason or orders from the Empress. Seeing your father is a very specific reason.”
Mella was so overjoyed, she was short of words. “Thank- thank you, thank you so much.”
Mella felt so relieved, so she will still get to see her father and not have to postpone her coronation. It was all working out the way it needed to be and it got her more excited of what she was doing. She was so worried about the chances of seeing her father come home, but she realized it wasn’t a big deal at all. Lady Amalla was thrilled to see the relief in Cromella’s face, knowing the conflict would not stop her from being an Ingostle.
For several minutes, Lady Amalla spoke about the church, talking about the rules and regulations, the activities, the great opportunity of becoming an Ingostle. Mella sat with fascination, occasionally breaking into conversation or asking questions that consists of the subject. They spoke for quite a while until Lady Amalla escorted her out of her office.
It wasn’t long until she found herself sitting in a tiny room covered in mirrors with two servants and in her underwear. They spent several minutes trying to fit the dress on her wide short body, their cold fingers against her skin as they measured and fitted her. The looks on their faces showed they had never made such a dress before and it didn't help the situation. Mella felt very uncomfortable, but the other part of her was in a daze at what she was doing why she was being treated the way she was. They were actually fitting her for her very own Ignostle dress, a dress that would personally fit her own body. She was going to be an Ingostle within the next few hours and it overjoyed her to know of her future ahead.
Once they had fit it according to her size, Mella felt even more uncomfortable. The dress was able to fit her so well, although the style of the dress showed her shape, her round shape. Even through the tight corset over her rolls of fat, there was still the large hips and a wide waist with a ribbon stretched around it, the massive chest and fat arms that fit snuggly into the specially made black lace gloves, everything looked much different on her than she imagined compared to the other Ingostles.
One servant spent her time working away at Mella’s thick mousy brown hair, struggling to pull it up into its needed bun. While she did that, the other servant prepped for the intense makeup she was going to place on Mella’s face, focusing deep on the shape of her face to make the designs perfect as the others continued to work at her hair. Once her hair was done, her face came next.
She shivered as the cold soft brush touched her skin. Never had she ever felt someone doing her make-up and it made her uncomfortable to have a woman so focused on her face. They covered her face in white, every crease, every corner of her skin was painted over like she was the canvas of an oil painting. When they worked at her eyes, she felt her eyes twitching uncomfortably as they took the eye liner over the edge of her lids or the flakes of black mascara across her short eyelashes. Luckily their stable hands managed to make up for her uncontrollable struggling. When they added the black vines, she felt the path of swirling lines across her painted skin, giggling at the tickling of the fine brush. Soon, she found herself looking at a hand mirror to a face she didn’t recognize.
Her nose itched at the foreign paint, but she refused to itch in fear of smearing the beautiful paint. As her nose continue to tingle, she started to find other random points across her face that just itched. She scrunched her face, hoping that would rid of the itchiness on her face and the ladies in the room giggled.
“You’ll get used to it.” One recalled.
“I feel like I’m wearing a mask.”
“That’s because you technically are.”
As they finished, one servant girl placed the large black hat over Mella’s head, the tool covering a portion of her eyes as it dangled from the lip. The hat itself had black feathers and a massive black Tulle bow spreading out across the immaculate hat, wires with red glass beads on the ends of them spread across with the feathers. It made Mella feel beautiful but confused, the hat feeling like it was hiding her face instead of beautifying it. They were treating her like a princess, but something didn’t seem like it should be that way. A feeling that was deep inside her, a very personal feeling she hated to feel inside her queasy gut.
Self doubt left Cromella near to tears as she started to realize what she was doing. She was going to change her life completely because of this. This was something that was completely different than what she was used to, she would be stepping into another world and never to return to her normal. A whole new culture, a new religion and a new lifestyle. This would have to be where she would need to adjust and claim as home instead of where she had been living in her entire life.
It was just minutes before the coronation and they had gussied her up to the point of uncomfortableness. She was walking to the door when her thoughts flooded down upon her. Mella felt weak in the legs and supported herself against the wall, clawing her fingers against her red silk dress. Her arms tingled as goosebumps rose and her heart began to thud out of her chest, pounding in her ears as if it was some warning to not go any further. Everything began spinning, as if her eyes couldn’t focus to where to look. Within the three servant girls, one of them seemed to take charge and she quickly noticed Mella leaned against the wall.
“I can't do this.”She cried.
The servant girl placed her gentle hand on her shoulder, looking at Mella with support and comfort.
“You can do this, Cromella Westwood. I believe in you, you just need to believe in yourself. It’s hard to move from what you are used to to a whole new culture. Change is hard, but I know you can do it.”
The servant girl sat Mella back down on a chair.
“I just… I don’t know what to do.”
“You came here knowing you wanted to be an Ingostle. Show it, Cromella, prove to your mother that soon you will be a Lady. A Lady who is meant to be one, an Ingostle who is wonderful in her own way.”
“I just don’t know how.”
“That's part of the religion, Mella. You learn how.”
Mella took a long moment to think it through. She gazed down at the white carpet, feeling cold as her body struggled to straighten out the nervous breakdown she was about to have. The servant girl gently held Mella’s hand and Mella finally was able to take a deep breath. She then straightened, standing up.
“I guess you're right.” She said, looking over to the servant girl with the hint of confidence slowly growing on her.
“So? Stand tall, hold a smile on that gorgeous face and if all else, fake it until you make it. I believe in you Mella.”
Cromella heaved a sigh.
“It’s time to go downstairs. Are you ready now?” The servant girl added.
Mella nodded.
Cromella followed the servant girl down towards the chapel, using the railings for support. In the doors, she could hear the organ playing, the melody so beautiful in her ears to know it was meant for her. She felt like she was going to her own wedding, except this was a ceremony where she would vow to never marry in her life. Besides that, she didn’t care about the marriage part, it was the Ingostle part she was looking forward to. Before entering, the servant girl placed a lace black shawl over her shoulders, adjusting it to look perfect on her body. She hoped the servant girl wouldn’t notice her trembling or the film of sticky sweat under her gloves.
“What is this for?” She asked, gazing down at the specially made shawl.
“The symbolism of your transfer from a citizen to an Ingostle. The shawl represents the follower, when removed, it transfers you into the full committed member of our church. When told to, you will give your shawl to the Empress and that is officializing you converting to an Ingostle.”
“So I can’t keep it?”
The servant girl grinned, patting her back. Mella already knew the answer to that.
“Good luck, Cromella.”
The doors opened and the music sounded louder in her ears, as if it was a gust of wind after opening the front door of your house. For some reason she was expecting a whole group of people looking over at Cromella with gleaming smiles on their faces, but the pews were empty. It was disappointing, but Mella let it pass as she saw the Empress ahead. Lady Amalla looked at her as she stood in front of the podium, behind her the two hundred Ingostles on the balcony and behind. They gleamed at the fact of a new Ingostle coming, but their faces only made Mella more nervous. Her feet walked without thinking, but all Mella wanted to do was turn around and scurry out of the nerve racking chapel. Every step seemed to ring in her ears, every trembling breath she could hear, every heartbeat seemed to pound harder and harder for every move she made. The loud organ music seemed to muffle, the aisle she was walking down looking infinite, Lady Amalla still so far away. She could feel her shoulders trembling, the shawl on the verge of slipping off and ruining the special occasion. Regret and excitement jumbled in her head and she suddenly wanted to puke, her face tingling in desperation. She didn’t know how she kept walking, her feet just kept putting one foot after the other. She clung on to her dress, looking up at the crowd of Ingostles gazing down at her. The attention was all on her. All on her...
Then she was in front of the Empress.
It happened so quickly, so suddenly. She was just, what seemed to be, a hundred feet away. Now she was directly in front of Cromella, standing with a gleam on her face.
“Cromella Westwood, how good it is to see you here, standing in front of me. You look absolutely stunning. Extravagant if you wanted a more vibrant word. Are you ready my dear?” Lady Amalla greeted with excitement, but this greeting was personally to her. It wasn’t said for everyone to hear, it was just to Mella.
Mella nodded, gulping hard as she lifted her head higher. Lady Amalla rested her gloved hands folded nicely over her lap. The Empress took in a large intake of air through her nose and began:
“Cromella Izzy Westwood, by the power of the first woman that arrived on this earth, Lady Edda, I, Lady Ralliel Amalla, place you as an Ingostle of our Feminist Church of Ingost. By the book of the Shei, all rules will be followed, your commitment will be final once I transfer you from citizen to Ingostle. Will you, Cromella Izzy Westwood, be a part of the Feminist Church of Ingost until the day you die and forever on as you pass on to meet Lady Edda, creator of earth?”
“Uh,” Mella gulped hard, “Yes.”
Lady Amalla grinned, “If you will give me your shawl, you will officially be a part of us.”
Cromella, struggled to think. She was grateful that Lady Amalla managed to tell her what to do, otherwise she wouldn’t have done anything. Mella pulled the shawl off her shoulders, her fingers trembling as she placed it over the Empress's arms. Lady Amalla gleamed.
“Welcome to our church, Lady Westwood.”
The Ingostles bowed, but it was in a way that was merely a slight tilt forward with the body and head and ending it off with a very gentle clap as they patted their wrists.
It was so short yet so wonderful to go through such a large event. Mella stood as the center of the Ingostles, looking up at them in a dress exactly like theirs. She had reached the Castles in the Air in becoming an Ingostle. Although, out of everything, she still felt faint, if not even more faint. Her legs barely managed to hold her trembling body as Lady Amalla led her to the eating hall. She didn’t have any time to think. Everything was a jumble of thoughts that she didn’t realize she was out of it until she was sitting at the dinner table.
She was the center of attention, making her feel feel out of place and in too high of a place to what she thought she was worth. They had set up a form of celebration with food lining the tables and red and black ribbons across the lace tablecloths, elegant flowers perfuming the room with the fresh smell of petals. When Cromella sat down, the same servant girl who had been helping her all day placed a special meal plate in front of her.
“Your first meal as an Ingostle.” She cheered.
“Thank you.” Mella said as she gazed down at the plate.
The food was on a golden dish, it felt like she was in a formal restaurant with food catered to perfection, something she would never afford in the first place. She wanted to cry to see something so beautiful, her emotions building up in a mess deep inside her gut. She didn’t feel like she wanted to eat it because it showed so much elegance in just a plate of food.
Cromella picked up her fork. By now, all of the Ingostles were seated but none of them were going to eat until Cromella did, placing more pressure than she already had. She just stared at the tongs, her thoughts deep in what was going on. It was all so confusing, yet so amazing. It was mesmerizing, but it was overwhelming. She broke out of her fork and looked back down at her food just as she noticed the hundreds of eyes looking directly at her.
Then she lost it.
Cromella burst into tears. In sheer embarrassment, she kept crying trying to stop it, but more tears just kept coming out. She dropped her fork, several women standing up to comfort, trying to ask what’s wrong and what they can help her with, but she didn’t know what. She felt like a child even though she was over twenty-years old, everything was just so vast and amazing and was too hard to believe. Then she had the other emotions of leaving what she grew up with, changing her entire lifestyle, it all was just gone as soon as she entered the church to talk to the Empress. Mixed feelings overwhelmed her and Cromella ended up soaking her plate in tears. As the tears started to soak her dinner, her tears started to change colors as they gathered the paint on her face, staining her dinner in paint as well. The servant girl helped Cromella on her feet and led her to the bathroom before she could be humiliated any longer with all the attention.
Usually they would wait for Cromella to finish, but with the circumstance, they started without her. Mella continued to cry when the servant girl took her into the bathroom, taking a warm rag to wipe her face down.
“Sh. It’s alright, Cromella. Was this just too much for you?” The servant girl asked, all Mella could do was nod, wanting to dig her face in her hands, but there was still wet paint on her skin.
Mella sat on the floor in her dress trying to calm down, but nothing was helping. She was a basket-case and she felt nothing could fix that. The servant girl had wiped off the makeup and had removed the hat from off her her head, giving her more air to breathe. They were in there for quite a bit, Mella refusing to leave until she calmed down. She was still trembling and she didn’t want to see the other Ingostles until she was standing with a clean painted face and perfectly okay to continue the celebration.
“Do you think you can go back to the eating hall?” The servant girl asked after several minutes on the tile in the bathroom.
“They’re probably finished by now.” Mella answered.
“Maybe I can take you to your room. You can take a nice shower to calm your body and I can bring up your dinner. Does that work for you?”
Mella gazed down at her stomach, knowing she was hungry. She would rather eat in her bedroom then eat with everyone watching her. She wasn’t used to the attention and she didn’t like it, this wasn’t something she considered when becoming an Ingostle. She didn’t like herself enough to allow others to enjoy her presence such as that.
“I wouldn’t mind that.” She responded.
The servant girl helped Cromella up on her feet, guiding her out of the bathroom and towards the stairs. They were just finished with dinner when Mella and the servant girl walked out and several were leaving. Cromella shrunk, knowing there would be women to congratulate or to apologize for her unfortunate breakdown, but most merely smiled at her, tipping their hat and continuing their way. They must have known Mella wasn’t looking for the attention at the moment. The stairs to the upper floor was a golden spiral staircase that seemed to infinitely go up. Her room was on the third floor so Mella was brought up two flights of spiral stairs to the hallway leading to her room. The carpet was increasingly soft, her black flats sinking into it as she walked with the servant girl down the hall. Her room was four doors on the right and the door seemed to welcome her in before entering with it’s elegantly carved white door with the same vines of flowers on their faces painted on the door.
The Ingostles shared rooms, but inside, it didn’t look like a room crammed with beds. Mella had two roommates, one at the end, another in the middle and Mella’s on the other end. Between the three beds was the nightstands, lamps rested on top with a window as well. The nightstands were small, probably used for more valuables than clothes due to the little amount of variety in dress. Mellas tiny suitcase was already taken up and it was placed on her bed, ready to be opened and put away. On her side of the room, a luxury bathroom suite was there, open enough for Mella to get a glimpse as the sink and tub in the far back of the massive bathroom.
She fully entered, running her hand over the silk comforter and to the knob of the bathroom door.
“I will bring up your dinner in about fifteen minutes. You can take that time to get settled, okay?”
“Okay.” Mella said in nearly a whisper, in awe she saw in front of her. This was where she would sleep, it all seemed like some dream she would have to wake up in sometime soon.
On the other side of the wall where the beds were, comfortable couch with a glass coffee table was in a corner for visiting and studying. On the table was a couple of magazines and a cross-stitch ring halfway in it’s process of being finished, a silver needle glimmering in the bedroom light. On the other side of the room was a small round table with four chairs around it and a bowl of fresh fruit in the center. The room was large enough for breathing space but it was small enough to not be so overwhelming in size. It was a suite perfect for a few girls to live in for the the rest of their life.
Cromella had to really think to realize that that room would be where she would live until she died. It was hard to believe where she stood was where she would be settling and comfortable in. At the moment, she felt like she was just visiting before returning home. But this was her room and it threw her off more than she was already feeling.
Trying to get herself together, Cromella threw herself on the bed, her body sinking into it’s increasingly soft mattress. She couldn’t stop smiling, slowly getting used to her surroundings and realizing this was for her. She lied there for a moment before sitting up and opening her little suitcase. Inside her suitcase she had packed a couple of shirts and jeans and her pajamas as well. Besides the little amount of clothes, she had, as well, packed her bathroom necessities and a couple of valuables she couldn’t leave home. This included things such as a porcelain teapot her grandmother gave her and some jewelry she had gathered in the past. She couldn’t forget the picture of her father in his Militia General uniform, standing tall with a folded Hechz flag under his crossed arms, standing in salute at the picture. Although he was coming home tomorrow, she still placed his picture by her bed.
Sighing, she gazed at the picture of her father, than looked up at the crown molding on the ceiling. It was gold and carved and it just added to the room even more than it already was. Mella felt chills of excitement, realizing this was a dream come true. Something she thought would never happen.
When there came a knock at the door, Mella was merely in a daze, not noticing it open. When the servant girl entered, Mella sat up, seeing the same meal on a silver platter. A dinner plate that wasn’t cried upon.
“Here you go, Lady Westwood.” She said, placing it on the table.
It threw Mella off to be called Lady Westwood, it sounded too adult for her. She nearly forgot that she was now an Ingostle and she was just called one by a servant girl. She shook her head in confusion.
“Can you just call me Mella please?”
“Well it’s impolite to call you by your first name. Would it be better for me to call you Lady Cromella.”
“That would be better, thank you.”
The servant girl gave Mella a smile.
“Very well, enjoy your dinner Lady Mella, I’ll help you in the morning for your make-up.”
The servant girl was about to leave, but Mella quickly stopped her.
“You never introduced yourself, what’s your name?” Mella asked, tapping her arm.
“Hellany.” She said before doing a small curtsy and walking out of her bedroom.
Mella’s roommates had not yet reached the bedroom yet, but she was alright with that, she wanted that time alone for a moment. She liked Hellany though, she was so comforting and loving, she appreciated her helping her all that day. The meal, after finally taking a bite, was wonderful. Without all of the pressure, she managed to eat it with satisfaction as the juicy meat and spices melted in her mouth. The salad on the side was wonderful with the yummy vinaigrette and strawberries. The dessert topped it all off. She didn’t quite fully know what kind of dessert it was, but it was chocolate and as she cut her fork into the soft cake, some form of golden-brown chocolate sauce spilled out. It was so wonderful she couldn’t eat it slowly, she finished it within minutes with a very full stomach.
She was going to have a shower but as she gazed at the bathtub, she longed for a long warm bath. Mella filled it up, noticing little buttons to turn on bubbles or massage and she wanted to try out all of them as she anxiously waited for the bathtub to finish filling up with water. Once it was filled up enough, she stepped into the soothingly warm tub, feeling the heat through her shivering skin. For a moment, she just relaxed in the still water, but then she tried the buttons experiencing the bubbles form into the water, then she tried the massage and felt like she could fall asleep as the pressure softly pounded on her back. She heaved a sigh, fully relaxed after a very intense day.
Outside of the door, she could hear her roommates entering, giggling and talking amongst each other as they walked in. Although the bathroom door was closed, Cromella could most definitely hear them, talking to each other about their day. A part of her wanted to meet them but the other part just wanted that moment of alone time instead of getting all of the attention. She decided to stay in the tub where she would be alone, knowing she’ll have to meet them eventually anyway.
But Cromella couldn’t stay in the tub forever. She finally got out after about twenty minutes to realize she forgot to fetch her pajamas. At first she didn’t know what else to do, for it was too hard to put back on her dress. Usually at home, if she forgot her clothes, she would wrap herself in a towel and rush to her bedroom hoping her mother wouldn’t see her running across the halls naked. Although, this time, it wasn’t just a quick, hide-yourself-to-fetch-your-clothes, for there was girls right outside of the door. Feeling awkward and unsure what else to do, Cromella was relieved to find three robes hanging by the door. One, she knew, was for her.
It was a black robe with the Ingostle Initials engraved in gold on the backside. Mella wrapped it around herself, tying the tie around her waist. Although she had never had a robe before, it was better than running around with a towel. Mella stepped out of the bathroom and the two roommates both turned to her in excitement. In embarrassment, Mella shrunk, but the girls didn’t seem to have any form of pity towards her.
“Well if we look it here, it’s our new Ingostle.” One said, a very tall slender woman with dark brown hair that was held in a very large bun on her head.
“Welcome Lady Westwood.” The other greeted, giving her a curtsy. This woman was shorter than the other and, although her waist was small, her hips made up for it, giving her a very obvious hour-glass shape.
“Um, do you mind if you just call me Lady Cromella?” Mella asked as she approached her suitcase to fetch her pajamas.
“If you say so, dear. Sometimes I don’t like to be called by my last name either, it seems like I’m twenty years older than I really am.” The curvy woman said, her speech very sing-song and high, “And I’m Lady Lin, in case you probably wanted to know that.”
“I’m Lady Rimalla, I am a part of the counsel of fifty so you will probably see me quite a lot outside of this room.” The tall slender one mentioned
“That’s very nice to meet you.” Mella said, about to take her clothes back into the bathroom, but Lady Lin quickly stopped her.
“Uh, there is sleepwear provided for you in your nightstand.”
Mella froze up, awkwardly looking over to where Lady Lin was pointing.
“Right.”
A part of her was just comfortable in sleeping in her own pajamas, but as she opened the top dresser drawer she noticed the pajamas and her mouth gaped open. It was a red and black silk nightgown. She almost didn’t like them as she pulled them out of the drawer, but they were so wonderful at the same time. She wasn’t used to such pajamas, she was expecting some super warm two piece pajama set, but instead she found herself looking at something that seemed like only celebrities would wear.
So she went into the bathroom and tried on the nightgown. It fit her very comfortably and it was nicely draped over her body. A pair of warm very soft slippers was slipped in the fold of the nightgown and they fell while she slipped the nightgown on. Mella slipped on the slippers and returned to the bedroom, her body comfortable in the luxury nightgown. Lady Lin was standing by her bed, brushing through her strawberry blond hair while she glanced at a long mirror, spotting Mella from it. Lady Rimalla was already on the couch reading the holy book of Shei, sitting comfortably on the couch with her pajamas already on.
“When did you get changed?” Mella asked.
“Just now. We’re all ladies here, Lady Cromella, it’s okay to change in front of each other.” Lady Rimalla laughed, looking up from her book.
Cromella wasn’t comfortable enough to do that. She was too subconscious on seeing two women she barely knew see her change. Then again, these ladies have lived with each other for so long they were probably used to it, but Mella would stay changing in the bathroom.
By Mella’s lamp lied her own personal Holy Book. The Shei was not large, being about three hundred pages long. Although, as she opened up to the first page, the first few lines of the first chapter brought her straight into it.
Chapter 1
Behold, there was a great woman who came upon the earth in robes of pure white silk linen.
Mella took a seat on her bed, swinging her legs over and continuing.
She walked the earth with no shoes or slippers, but in bare feet, walking the earth with a glow of her skin so perfect. The woman was given the name, Edda, meaning pure. While Edda walked, grass sprouted on the ground under her feet, flowers bloomed brightly before the face of the earth, blooming their vibrant colors to the blue sky. In all that she could see, trees popped from their hiding places and grew marvelous leaves; the ground rose to different heights creating mountains and hills, creating valleys and coves, canyons and bowls.
With the guidance of her finger, Edda created rivers and lakes, streams and waterfalls. For life, she brought birds and deer, fish and rabbits. Every animal that did not eat meat, she placed upon the Earth, giving them a perfect life in her perfect world. Edda walked the entire Earth, creating oceans and lands until she had created nature throughout the entire world. Her land was coming to a finish.
When the first man came to earth, Edda fell for the man, Adue. Their love created another son, Alamas. At first, the world was perfect, but when the first son of the first man and woman arrived, he created much tumult. With his wicked thoughts, Alamas tormented his family and created a great storm throughout the earth. Alamas created great beasts such as wolves and lions, bears and monsters. Every animal that caused fear throughout the land, scared away Edda’s creation of life. Edda’s animals fled from their homes in fright, great storms creating floods and destruction. Pieces of Edda’s wonderful world fell into drought or split away from the land. As the earth cracked under their feet, lands were separated and Edda was split away from Adue.
Before the land was split away, Edda gave birth to six more children of whom each represented each day Edda created the earth. The seventh day was going to represent Alamas, but because he was forbidden from the family, Edda named it the day of the sun before the sabbath. Three girls: Mondeil, Wendsora and Satura, and three boys: Teumei, Thurstrong and Frihyant.
The siblings created their own families, but they were forced away from each other, being separated into the different lands where they would never see each other again. The families grew to expand and populate the split lands where civilizations evolved. They made cities and countries, territories and villages and the world of Edda was civilized.
By the time Cromella had finished the first chapter, she tucked herself into her bed and felt herself already dozing to sleep. She had never been so comfortable in a bed until she lied in the luxury she could live in for the rest of her life.
That night, she slept the best she had ever slept.
Chapter 5- Ingostles and Generals
“Good Morning Ladies.” Hallany greeted as she brought in breakfast on a large tray.
She set the table for us, placing the plate of hotcakes and eggs on the surface of the table. The three of them thanked her and took a seat at the table, enjoying the hot cakes as they modestly poured the syrup over them. Lady Lin and Lady Rimalla both had so much etiquette, it made Mella feel very out of place. How they sat up so straight, how they elegantly cut and ate into the meal or how they even used their napkin. Mella ate it happily but she didn’t quite understand how they could keep such composure and still enjoy the meal. She would think she should enjoy the food and not be so stiff about eating. She knew it was just the transfer of her middle class life to a high class religious life, but it seemed odd to her at the moment. She tried to mimic them, trying to straighten her back as she struggled to gracefully stab the fork into the hotcake and make a somewhat attempt to take a graceful bite, but it didn’t seem to be working as well. They seemed too perfect to be even sitting at breakfast like that, but Mella just had to keep her negative thoughts to herself.
“So what do we do on Sundays?” Mella asked, tired of sitting in silence.
Dinner was usually a time of conversation at her home, she wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to do it or not, but she had to try. Since she was new to the church, they would probably make an exception if she was doing things wrong.
“Well,” lady Lin started (apparently they could speak during meals), “every Sunday is generally the same, we prepare for Monday. Usually we walk the streets giving services to those locally to encourage them to come to our visits and we practice the prelude music. Sundays are usually our free days where we can go to the meeting hall for socializing and service crafts or personal study and journal time. Basically anything within the grounds.” Lady Lin said as she pulled up her medium length hair into a bun.
The other Lady had very long hair that fell down to her knees and as she pulled it up in a bun, she had to strain her hands to tighten the mass of hair into as small a bun possible.
“Well, Lady Amalla excused me to leave the grounds to see my father. I was just wondering when the time would be best to go visit him.”
“Your father?” Lady Rimalla asked
“I haven’t seen him for years.”
“Sounds like a good excuse to me.” Lady Lin added.
“Well, if you’re hoping to visit him, why don’t you leave this morning? That way, if you wanted to spend the rest of the day with him, you could. And if not, you could come back and enjoy the rest of the day here.”
Mella smiled,
“Maybe I’ll do that, then.”
Hellany returned about half an hour later to help with Mella. It took another half an hour for her to do her makeup and hair and by the time she was finished, both of her roommates were finished doing their own makeup. When Mella had the fresh makeup on her face and the dress and hat neatly placed on her body, she went downstairs and left the building. She felt refreshed and ready, but at the same time, she was still recovering from all that had happened throughout the last twenty-four hours.
She then walked towards the gates where they opened for her exit.
Cromella took a deep breath, knowing this was the breaking moment to see her father. She would see her father after so long and it made her heart thump out of her chest to know any minutes now, she’d be giving him a hug in her Ingostle dress happy to have him home. Excitement and anxiety reunited with her and doubts once again jumbled in her head.
What would her father think when he saw her as an Ingostle?
What would he react when he realizes that she won’t be there forever, that she’ll have to return back to the church and probably not see him for a long time?
Mella shook it off and kept walking, knowing those thoughts would only pull her back. She approached the door, the handle creaking as she turned it to open.
“Mom?” Mella asked, but her voice seemed loud in the silence.
When there came no response, she swung it wide to find the room dark. It was early, maybe she had arrived too early and he wasn’t even home yet and her mom was still in bed. Mella suddenly felt awkward and embarrassed once again unsure what else to do, she knew he would be coming in the morning, as long flights from Turme were usually early in the morning. Would she wait for him with her mom awkwardly lingering beside her or come back later? Her mother didn’t even specify when he was coming. It might not be until later that day.
She could almost hear her father's voice behind her, telling her to stay until he arrived, but it was still empty in the house. She looked behind her, hoping to see his presence as he approached the door, but she was alone.
But nobody was there.
So she decided to stay.
Mella fully entered her home and sat on the couch. Although this was her home and she hadn’t quite adjusted to her Ingostle home yet, she didn’t like to be inside knowing her mother was present. She recognized it as her home, but a part of her suddenly felt like she no longer belonged in there any more. Even if she had never left it since birth. It was odd to be sitting there, not sure whether she missed it or was neutral about it.
Sitting there allowed Mella to think for a moment, knowing she was alone for a moment. Then the thought of the coronation yesterday made her cringe. Yes, it was hard and difficult to face such a formal event with so much attention, but it wasn’t that that made her cringe.
It was the fact that her mother never came.
The last time she saw her was with that unpleasant farewell when her mother didn’t even manage to say good bye.
The room seemed to throw dark and stuffy as her mother entered the living room.
“Cromella, what- what are you doing here?” she asked, freezing as she noticed her daughter sitting at the couch.
Mella stood up, approaching her mother. Mrs. Westwood took a sip of her coffee in her hand, but her eyes remained glued to Mella’s.
“Mella-”
“When is dad coming?”
Her mother stopped in her tracks, just about to take another sip. She lowered the mug and looked at her as if she didn’t know, a look of both confusion and regret on her face.
“This morning, this afternoon, this evening? When mother, I’d like to see him.” Mella added.
“Well…” she started, avoiding Cromella’s eyes and placing the mug on the buffet table next to her.
Mella knew something was up and she was concerned it wasn’t something she wanted to hear. As her mother stood there so oblivious she knew what the trick was. The room seemed to grow darker, more stuffy. Like a dark cloud swooped into the room and it came directly from her mother. Mella’s heart seemed to break in two.
“He’s not coming is he?”
Her mother closed her eyes nodding, turning her head away from me.
“Mother…” Mella stumbled to say, her lip quivering to realize this heartbreaking moment.
Mella waited for her mother to answer, standing there trembling in disappointment and anger. Her mother deliberately lied to her and her hopes were so high that when she realized he wasn’t coming, everything crumbled inside her.
“I… only did it so you could cancel your coronation. I wasn’t ready for you to leave me... not now.”
“Mother. You lied to me. And even if I did follow through with canceling the coronation, it would have made matters worse than it already was.”
“W-well, I was hoping you would cancel it and when today would come, I would be disappointed to as to realize he wasn’t coming home and everything would be okay. You wouldn’t have ever thought I would have done it on purpose… that was my thoughts… anyway.”
Mella sat herself down, “will I ever get to see my father?”
Her mother guiltily sat next to Mella, her head dropped.
“Mella... there is something else I need to talk to you about.”
Mella could almost predict what her mother was going to say and it destroyed her inside. Her soul seemed to burn, like her mother took a match and lit it herself.
“Is he… dead?”
“No.” She started, bringing some form of hope back up, but her voice was still sorrowful, “but he is in high risk of being killed.” She lifted her head, looking Mella back in the eyes.
“Your father had been taken captive by the enemy some six months ago. I used the envelope they used to tell me the unfortunate news and placed the note I gave you yesterday.”
“So he could be dead, but… they don’t know?”
Her mother nodded and Mella felt like she would melt in sorrow.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?!” She whimpered.
“Because-”
“Is it because to you, you shouldn’t let your little girl know such an event?” Mella snapped, on the verge of angry amongst her sorrow.
“Because I didn’t have the strength to tell you!” She nearly screamed, trembling under her tears.
Her mother dug her face deep in her hands “I didn’t want to tell you that your father was dead or nearly dead. He has been in danger before, but this time, the unknowns are our enemy. Cromella, I want your father home as much as you do. I just... don’t know if he ever will.” She cried.
Mella sat there for a moment, looking at her crying mother and trying to sink in all that she just heard. So much mixed feelings, so much sorrow, so much unknowns. She couldn’t live not knowing whether her father was alive or dead and she knew something had to be acted upon it.
“Mom, we are just sitting here crying about it. We need to do something about it.”
“But what?” she screamed, “if he’s already dead he’s probably buried in a veteran graveyard listed as unknown because he was found in such a mess, they couldn’t even recognize him as their General. They could have hid the body and we would never know, so with all of this, we really should just assume he’s already dead. If he was alive how would we ever know that we can even get him?! They have probably tortured and locked him up in some secret facility probably never to see the light of day again. He’s gone, Mella, there is nothing we can do about it.”
Tears built up in Mella’s eyes, tears of anger and frustration. She couldn’t stay, she wanted to escape. She could escape. She had to leave and think things through, but hadn’t she enough of thinking? She wanted to act on it, find a resolution through all this grief.
Cromella got back up to her feet.
“I have to go, mother. Let me know if we hear of anything else of dad.”
The tears hadn’t quite dripped down her painted face yet, but it was hard to see with the flood of tears in her eyes. She nearly dragged her feet as she returned back to the church, trying to avoid eye contact with any Ingostles walking around. Lady Rimalla was just leaving with Lady Lin, invitations in their gloved hands.
“Hello, Lady Mella.” Lady Rimalla said in her alto voice.
Although they greeted very joyfully, they both noticed the upset look on her face.
“I’m guessing the meeting with your father did not work out?” Lady Lin asked
Mella didn’t want to talk, she was too upset but she didn’t want to ruin her paint again.
“He’s not coming.” She whispered, the choke heavy in her throat, she said it quickly and hurried away from them.
She didn’t want to answer any more and kept walking, fully entering the building. Lady Rimalla and Lady Lin both watched in concern, but they left her alone, knowing she didn’t want to talk. Several of the women passed her, tipping their heads or giving her a smile as they continued chatting or walking to their location. It was so graceful and wonderful to see them walking the grounds of the large church but it didn’t help with the situation Mella was going through. Her father wasn’t around, she didn’t even know if he was alive and this was all because her mother had kept a secret from her for so long and told her yet another lie of many.
The trust she had on her mother had decreased. Unless she does something to revive herself from the trust lost from her daughter, Cromella didn’t wish to see her again until her father was home. The more she thought about it, the more she didn’t regret the fact that she left her mother.
It was time. Cromella needed to get something off of her mind. She entered the meeting hall, seeing a small group of Ingostles conversing together, laughing and talking about their life and other church like conversations. When they saw Mella they stopped and looked up at her with a smile.
“Good morning, Lady Westwood, would you like to join us?” One asked in a very honey-sweet voice.
She looked at them, hurting even more as more thoughts of herself came to mind. Most were thin beautiful woman who probably had parents who appreciated their looks and wanted them to join the church, who had fathers who were home and proud of them. They hadn’t gone through self-doubt and parents who lied to them basically their entire life. Nothing was more worse than her own mother telling her that she was too ugly to leave her sight.
It was her mother, she listened to her, yet this time, she took her own path.
She realized she should have ignored her from the start.
“No thank you.” She said bluntly, rushing up the stairs to the third floor.
Mella returned to her room, looking out the window to see some of the part time servants working away in the yard. That’s who she wanted to talk to, she wanted to talk to Hellany. So far, for the little amount of time she had met her, Mella had found Hellany an only friend she could talk to at the moment, even if she didn’t completely know who she was yet.
Cromella wasn’t exactly sure of the layout, but she assumed the full-time servant would be somewhere doing a more full-time job. Mella walked the halls, her body appreciating the walk instead of whimpering in her bedroom. So far, there was no sight of Hellany, but she could narrow it down to certain places she would probably be. She knew she wouldn’t be in the kitchens or doing yard work, so it would have to be inside in one of the rooms. Mella came down to the main floor, checking the halls and listening in for the distinct honey-sweet voice of the servant.
There were plenty of women walking around that she could ask, but her gut refused to speak out and stop them. She had never been a socializing girl and having to stop someone to even ask for directions was overwhelming. Although, either way, she needed to find Hellany.
She continued wandering the halls, searching through open rooms and checking places she thought she might be.
“Who are you looking for?” A familiar voice asked from behind, Mella turned around grateful to see the servant girl.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
Hellany approached closer.
“What can I help you with then?” Hellany looked around at her face and a corner of her lip lifted, “were you crying again?”
It must have smeared part of her makeup because she wouldn’t have known how else she would have known that. But because she mentioned crying, the long hours of holding in her tears finally came bursting out.
“Oh Lady Mella,” Hellany cried, gently grabbing her shoulders and guiding her to a bench in the hallway.
Mella didn’t want anyone else to see her crying again. It was already humiliating to cry in front of all them on a night special for her, to have them see a fat girl crying because she had too much in her brain to function correctly. Luckily, the hallway she had turned was down to what looked like a less populated hallway that led to the servants wing.
“Is it still because of what happened yesterday? Talk to me dear.” Hellany said, her gentle hand on Mella’s back.
“I just- I just… there are a lot of things in my head and I… I don’t know what to do.” Mella cried.
A servant girl walked down the hall, looking at Mella with concern and curiosity, stalling to see what was going on, but Hellany seemed to give her a sort of glare. The servant girl continued walking, glancing behind her before disappearing into the wing.
“Here, let’s go somewhere a bit more private.” Hellany said, guiding Mella off the bench.
She took her down the hall and into the servant wing. Mella didn’t care about the lack of elegance in the wing. Although the servant girls were given just as much respect, taking care of their own quarters wasn’t as big of a deal as the rest of the church rooms. They were given good furniture and a nice kitchen of their own, but the tidiness was a bit on the messy side. Hellany led Cromella up an ordinary staircase, taking her down a cramped hallway filled with the servant bedrooms. For a full time servant, there was only about twenty of them and Hellany only shared a room with one.
“My roommate is in the kitchens fixing lunch so we can be in there.”
The room was small but it also was roomy. Her bed was against the window on the other side of the room, her small dresser beside it with her things neatly placed by her lamp. Although the wing itself was a bit untidy, Hellany herself kept her part of the room clean. They sat on Hellany’s bed and Mella continued to sob. Once again, Hellany had grabbed another rag to wipe off her dripping paint and then allowed Mella to talk to her.
“We’re more private now, what’s wrong? What’s all the trouble? You’ve only been here for less than twelve hours and you’re already crying your dear heart out.”
“I just…” Mella sniffed, blowing her nose, “I went back today. To my house. I got permission because my dad was supposed to come home from the military today.”
“Military? Where was he fighting?” Hellany asked.
“In Rumbeig. He was a general and I guess he lost his arm and he was supposed to come home today.”
“Where did you find this out? This morning?”
“No, yesterday. My mom showed it to me just before I left. Because of that, I almost wanted to cancel the coronation to see him, but I knew Lady Amalla would let me see him today. So that’s what I did, but… that wasn’t what my mom was planning.”
“Your mom? How so?”
“She never wanted me to go in the first place, but I’m old enough to make my own decisions so I took the chance. She still thinks me as her little girl, but that was so long ago that I was a little girl. Well… she faked the letter. My father really wasn’t coming home, she only did it to get me to cancel the coronation. But because I didn’t, when I came today, it only made matters worse.”
“So you never got the chance to see your father?” Hellany asked, concern growing more on her face.
“It was more than that. He-” Mella broke into more tears, to the point she couldn’t speak for a long time as she bawled in her hands.
Hellany waited patiently, rubbing her back as she struggled to breathe in the tears bursting out of her. Finally, she managed to take a deep breath and turn back to the servant girl.
“He was taken by General Khyro, they took my dad and we have no idea if he’s alive or dead.”
Hellany covered her mouth, “that’s horrible. How long has your mother known?!?”
Mella hiccuped, “six months.”
“Oh, Mella. I bet that has been so hard for you.”
“If only I could do something about it, find out if he’s okay or if he’s… dead. I want to know, I’d rather know then live my life in the unknowns.”
“I’m sure they’ve been looking hard for your father, he is a general.”
“I know but it’s been six months!”
Mella and Hellany talked for a long time. Although it was hard, it made Mella feel better that she could let out all of her thoughts. These were thoughts she couldn’t tell her mom and she didn’t know who else to talk to, if it wouldn’t have been for Hellany, she would have still been more miserable than she already was. It made her grateful that a young woman such as Hellany showed up in her life. She realized she wouldn’t have ever met Hellany had she not joined in the first place.
After several minutes of talking, Mella just cried on Hellany’s shoulder. She felt relieved to let it out, after talking to someone, she felt like she could move one with some of her thoughts and find ways to be happy.
“Thank you.” Mella cried under her breath as Hellany comforted her.
That was all she needed.
Chapter 6- A New Life
It had been three weeks since the coronation and Mella was still adjusting to the culture and environment. She had become closer to not only Hellany but her roommates, Lady Lin and Lady Rimana. They had been great to her. Although the thoughts of her father still lingered heavily in her mind, she kept away from showing it. The last time she had cried was that first Sunday with Hellany and she didn’t want to experience another miserable day again, even with her hardships.
As for appearance, that still held tight inside her. Mella refused to look at herself for a long time in mirrors in fear of growing sick in her size. The struggle in not comparing herself to the elegant slender women walking the halls was increasingly difficult but she continued to keep holding on. A part of her would grow doubts that her mother was right about not fitting in, but the other side held in trying to tell her that she was a woman who was supposed to be there. It had worked out, if it was meant to be, it was meant to be at the right place at the right time.
It was Monday, a day where the sessions would begin. Mella found herself standing in the high balcony wrapping around the tall walls of the chapel, trying to stand tall with the other women up there. She never enjoyed heights, but she remembered from the door some weeks ago admiring how cool they looked up there. Now she was the one standing up in the balcony, lined up with about 100 more women, gazing down from above. Soon, they would work on the song they had practiced just the day before and sing it out to the streets to welcome in newcomers and followers.
It was something Mella had only done just three times and every time had been amazing and wonderful. Over the last few weeks, they had taught her etiquette and posture as part of the church, but she struggled with her slouching problem and her middle-class etiquette. She felt important standing up on that balcony, standing between others. Although, she still hadn’t admitted to being an Ingostle. Outside, she was, she wore the dress, she followed their standards, she seemed fully committed. But mentally, she struggled to admit she belonged in such a high class religion with high expectations of an immaculate Ingostle.
The chorister, a woman who seemed to have no hips or waist, stood facing the Ingostles behind the podium. She held her baton, and all of the women took in a deep breath. Bringing chills into the chapel, they sung out singing Edda the Glory, the perfect harmony of two hundred women ringing through the entire building and out to the streets. Within minutes, followers started to come in, walking in with their mouths gaping open as they saw all of the Ingostles singing their hearts out to the world.
Mella enjoyed the view of seeing it on the other side. For so long, she was just that outsider who watched from the door to admire the music, but now she was the singer. She was never a good singer, but the way they all sang made Mella want to sing as beautifully as she possibly could. Her voice came out slightly off and scratchy, but it was the best she could do and out of dozens of singers, her off tone barely reached the listeners ears.
They kept singing for several minutes until the chapel was filled with people, women of all ages excited for church. Most every Monday was always filled with people from front to back, very little was there an empty seat. As the Ingostles stopped their glorious singing, Lady Amalla, as always, started and stepped up to the podium. As she said her weekly speech, the entire congregation sang: Seven Days of Hope and brought more joy to the city as not just the Ingostles sang, but a hundred more followers to add to it.
Once the song was over, Lady Amalla approached the stand, gleaming to the followers in the congregation.
“I’d just like to tell you ladies that you are all appreciated. There are people out there who loves you and cares for you and although I may not know you that well or I may know you just as much as I know myself, I love you as well.” Lady Amalla began with a giant gleam on her gorgeous face.
“Anything you do puts an impact on someone in the world, even if you think whatever you did was terrible, something out there happened that made someone else have a wonderful day. Let me tell you a story to explain. I once knew a girl that was having a terrible day, she wasn’t sure what it was. She just simply woke up feeling absolutely awful and nothing could tell her why. While she walked to school, she bumped into a boy walking around the corner. He toppled over and scratched his hand as he caught himself on the sidewalk. She felt so bad and wanted to help, but he only cried and ran off back home. After that she knew for sure her day would be terrible. And it did go more terrible. One after another, like a chain of events, things happened to make her day get worse and worse until finally, she came home and cried. What she didn’t realize was that boy she had ran into, he was going to get bullied that day. They were waiting for him outside of school and was going to beat him up as soon as he arrived, but because he didn’t come, they weren’t able to do so. Although the boy scraped his hand, it was better than a broken body.
“I just wanted you ladies to understand that there are tender mercies that happen every day. You might not realize it and you may never, but just know, you may have impacted someone that day as you walked the streets to work.Things happen for a reason, and I strongly believe that whatever you do, it may impact someone somewhere somehow in this world in miraculous ways.
“Like that boy in the street, she had no idea that running into him prevented him from being bullied. Things can be more stretched than that. The reason that girl was so upset was because she had to stay up late with her sister helping her with homework. So, in the other hand, it was also the sister who prevented that boy from getting bullied because she stayed up late with the girl and it made her grumpy, thus hurting the boy and keeping him from being bullied. Ladies, everything happens for a reason, it doesn’t matter what. Hold strong, everything will work out no matter how terrible it is. You impact others. If we change our mindsets to realize this, our perspectives on unfortunate situations may change for the better good for all of us. I love you Ladies. We will now sing: How Great of Service us Ladies Bring and will have a speech by Lady Reed.”
Lady Amalla walked off, and all the women broke out in more singing. Cromella had nearly memorized all of the songs after singing so many nearly every day. A few of the Ingostles spoke, most were ones of the fifty sitting behind the podium, speaking of inspirational moments to make the women within the Ingostles and congregation feel wonderful. It helped to inspire Mella, considering finding good things in negative situations such as the common subject among all of the speakers.
Then before she knew it, it was over and the congregation left.
Once the congregation left, Cromella and all of the women closed their eyes and Lady Amalla prayed to Edda. Then they read a chapter of the Shei together, reading in unison as, in their heads, they pondered of what was being said. After reading a well written chapter of the Shei, Mella followed the others down to the food court where they had a lunch. Monday was the day or rest to the Ingostles. They usually stayed together meditating or reading together. After eating the wonderful meal, Mella went outside, joining the Ingostles in a mediation session in the field of grass in the back. They sat with their legs tucked under them and their hands placed gently on their laps, breathing in patterns and according to the instructor's directions. Mella wasn’t overly comfortable sitting in a way such as that, but she joined in anyway, feeling a little better that they would have their eyes closed for the majority of it.
It felt nice to her to get to breathe and think. When they told her to imagine a heaven to her and place her into that scene, all she could think about was the church. She merely visioned herself standing in front of the church house on her first day with excitement instead of fear and anxiety. She wished she could revive that moment, when she could start over and reach her dream with a smile on her face and being so overjoyed she couldn’t breathe. Instead of having to walk into the church with so much stress and worry on her shoulders that once she became an Ingostle, she just cried and ruined her dinner and went to bed to continue to weep. This time, she tried to imagine walking in with the shawl over her body in her dress and make-up and approaching the Empress with no nervous butterflies in her stomach. She tried to imagine sitting at the celebration dinner enjoying her first meal there with no care of all of the Ingostles watching her before they had permission to eat themselves. All of those wonderful hopes that would never happen.
Because it had already happened.
Mella continued to breathe in the pattern they had told her. ’Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth’. She felt relaxed, forgetting about the troubles she had with her father and her constant beating of what she thought of herself. She would think that after all of the wonderful lessons that she heard, she would learn to appreciate herself, but it still lingered hard in her head and she felt it would never leave her. She needed more than just inspirational words from a speaker talking to the entire church instead of personally. She felt it would bother her forever, the fact that she was different than the others. She felt that everything would go perfect as soon as she joined, but as she sat there, meditating, she realized there needed to be a better alternative. She needed to act on it, but how? She continued to think it through, still feeling at peace, but a little bug in her head seemed to tingle inside as if it wanted to come back.
The session was nice and Mella felt like a daze after it was over. She walked fully relaxed with a feeling of joy and peace, the thoughts of her doubts temporarily inactive. She hoped it would stay forever, but she knew it was only going to be temporary as she would get back into her other daily activities.
The rest of the day was wonderful, taking the day to relax was something Mella did after her weeks work of services and busy schedule. Throughout the week, she had taken service to different local towns and while in the church, she worked on charity crafts and studying the Shei. Between all of the busy service hours she did, they had provided classes teaching about the gospel, etiquette, singing, dancing and other things to learn throughout the day. She was never into dancing, but she would usually sit in there watching the Ingostles, dressed in dance wear, gracefully dancing around the room with a smile on their faces.
As night came, Cromella settled in her comfortable bed, ready for the next day. She finally was able to feel some form of comfort, but her mind was starting to return back to its doubts. Although they kept her busy, Mella enjoyed it, it prevented her from getting too far into her thoughts.
Although, even with the stress released from her that day with meditation and wonderful lessons, she slept hard with a dream she hated.
Explosions and fire, people shot their rifles at other people. Although Mella saw no crippled bodies, she could almost see them in the fire. It seemed she was gazing from above and her first thought was to search for her father. Then she was running on the ground, calling for her father's name. She approached several men, asking where he was but they all shrugged, not knowing.
He was nowhere to be found.
Mella kept looking, getting away from the fire and explosion to get stopped by a Khyro. His uniform, a deep maroon and a large black sash over it blocked her view from seeing past his massive body. He raised his chest, his hands in deep fists as he glared down at her. She had never encountered a Khryo before, but she knew exactly what they looked like and they were terrifying. They were savages, they seemed to kill for more than land, they killed for revenge, lust and greed.
“Where is my father!”
“Aren’t you a bit old for looking for your father?” He sneered.
“If you don’t know whether your dad is dead or alive, or course you would go find him?! So no, I’m never too old to go looking for a missing father.”
“Let me guess, he’s a general that we took.” He said with clenched teeth.
Mella fell to her knees, pleading with tears in her eyes.
“Please, where is my father?!”
Once she begged, she was found in deep regret for wanting to see him. For the soldier turned his body so she could see behind him and sunk. There was her father against the wall, blood covering his dead body with a sword through him like a shish kabob. Mella wanted to puke, to run away and cry and scream until her throat rung dry. She felt sick, her stomach lurching as if wanting to puke. Although it was just a dream, it didn’t feel like one.
She could barely recognize her father, but she knew it was him.
She woke up in a cold sweat, catching her breath. She saw something that would forever be glued in her head. A gory version of her father and it felt like she had stabbed herself with a staff such as what she saw inside her father. Still trying to catch her breath, Mella got up to her feet and went for a walk in her nightgown. She walked outside, walking in the gardens back there, not caring whether she was going to get her slippers dirty or run into something in the dark. She didn’t even bother grab a flashlight, she just wanted to walk without further thinking about anything except her father.
She didn’t know what time it was, but she didn’t care. Trying to get it out of her head, Mella tried to imagine singing in the chapel on Mondays or making quilts for the hospital, but the image just kept coming back. When it kept coming back, she tried singing the music, trying to imagine her singing while doing it, but her thoughts still was on her father.
Then the walk seemed to not help. When she realized why she was walking, that image kept returning to her face in such a horrific way, it hurt her more. She returned back to her bedroom, her cream slippers dark in the rich soil outside. She pushed them under the bed, hoping her roommates wouldn’t notice she had gone outside in the middle of the night and threw herself on the bed. As she did so, the bed felt as hard as a rock.
Her thoughts started to move on to memories of her father.
She remembered, as a little girl, bringing flowers to him while he grilled the stake for the dinner that night. Mella was very petite for her age and as she approached him, she would stand on her tiptoes to place the bouquet of flowers on the ledge of the grill. Her father would grin, and peer down at Mella. Then he would stop for a moment and grab the flowers, squatting down to his daughter's eye level.
To look at those beautiful eyes, he would still be smiling, but would be plucking the petals of the flowers.
“What are you doing to the flowers?” Mella had asked in concern.
“I’m going to create something else for you.” He responded, placing the assortment of colorful petals across the porch.
The little Cromella would sit down, watching her dad as he organized the petals and created a design on the ground. He would form it into a heart, spelling Izzy in the center. That was something Mella loved about her father, he never called her Cromella or even Mella, he called her Izzy. Izzy was her middle name, but when she was born, her mother liked Cromella and he liked Izzy, but because they stuck to Mella as first name, he had called Mella Izzy her entire life.
Although, it was only him. Everyone called her Mella and she liked it, but when she heard the name; Izzy, she got thinking of her father.
“Flowers are very pretty, Izzy, but nature can create other beauty and so I made something that is personally to you. It even has your name on it.”
Mella would grin, touching the design he had made on the ground.
“Heil, someone from the militia is here!” Her mother would call from the door.
“I’ll be back in a moment, Izzy.”
Her father left, entering the house. Mella waited outside, but she could hear sounds and conversation. After several minutes, she still waited, the conversation turning into a panic as voices raised and sped up, then she heard a door slam and all went silent.
Her mother rushed out to the back porch in tears, approaching Mella so oblivious of the situation.
“Where’s dad? What happened?”
Her mother shook her head.
“They need him, there was a war broken out in Lawei.”
“So daddy left?”
Her mother shoved her crying face in her hands. The young mella looked at her mother, still trying to understand exactly what happened.
While dinner burned on the grill, Mella and her mother cried on the porch.
That was the last time Mella saw him. When he left her for war. He would later fight in Lawei and transfer to Rumbeig where they would fight a large battle that would last throughout the several years of Mella’s childhood. Although, the war remained in the country of Rumbeig, it spread rapidly and towns were being taken over as war was fought and buildings were destroyed. Rumbeig was once a peaceful country in grassland and pleasant towns, but then it turned into battleground with refugee towns.
That was where her father was taken.
When he fought in Rumbeig.
The next day she felt increasingly tired, but she kept the fact of her dream away from what showed on her face. She continued her daily morning routine, breakfast with her roommates, than read the Shei and get ready. By the time this routine was finished, it was already dinner. As she came down the stairs, she checked the bulletin on the second floor to know what she would be doing that day. She had made a habit to check it before setting down for lunch. The Calendar was all but the same, but she was okay with it, she enjoyed it all the better as long as it got it off her mind.
Although, there was something pinned next to the calendar. The paper was small and a bit boring, only the simple black print on it, but something caught her attention on it.
Service Project in Polei, need fifteen Ingostles for two weeks. If interested, please speak to your Empress.
It sounded like a note that went to more than just that single Ingostle church. For wanting fifteen, Mella knew she had to immediately talk to her. What excited her the most was to see that it was in Polei, a small town just inside Rumbeig. Where her father fought before he was taken. Mella didn’t know what to say, this was her opportunity to find him, to find out what happened to him. She bit her lip, she needed to go to this. She scurried down the stairs, knowing the Empress was already seated in her chair at the head table. She seemed so far away, sitting there enjoying herself as she smiled and spoke to her counselors.
She knew it was the wrong time to speak to her at that exact moment, but she was itching to anyway. She needed to speak to her after breakfast. Once the meal was placed in front of Mella, all she could do was tell Lady Amalla all about it before it was too late and they had already gathered fifteen Ingostles. Although Lady Amalla took her time eating, the anxiety of wanting to tell her caused Mella to inhale her food.
“Mella, manners.” Lady Lin said almost teasingly as she gracefully took a bite of her breakfast.
“Sorry, I just- I need to talk to Lady Amalla.”
“She’s not even done with her meal though.” Lady Rimana added.
“I know that, but-” Mella stood up, “I want to talk to her now.”
Lady Rimana grabbed her arm, “just give her a moment, at least let your food settle.”
“Besides, what is so exciting to talk to Lady Amalla so hurriedly?” Lady Lin asked, taking a bite from her poached egg.
“Well, you see that’s the thing. There’s a service project that is only available for just fifteen Ingostles and I need to-” Lady Amalla took her last bite and Mella shot up again, “she’s done, I got to go speak to her.”
“Let her stomach settle too, dear.” Lady Lin said, trying to pull Mella back down in her chair.
“Maybe finish what you were going to say and then you can go… talk to her.” Lady Rimana said.
“Alright, well, I need to do this service project. It’s urgent, I don’t want to miss it and so I have to talk to her right now!”
Once again, Mella shot out and this time walked off before her roommates could catch her. She walked towards the head table and Lady Amalla saw her coming. She stood up, gently patting her lips to prevent too much lipstick coming off and greeted her with that smile she didn’t seem to lose on her face.
“What is it dear?” Lady Amalla asked, walking around the table to approach Mella.
“Lady Amalla, I am very interested in this trip to Polei and I really want to go to it.”
“Didn’t you just arrive, dear, what a few weeks ago? Shouldn’t you have a little more time to adjust before doing such a major service project in a different country?” She asked.
“Well, that’s another thing I need to talk to you about. It’s about my father.”
“Your father? I thought he was-”
Mella knew she hadn’t spoken to Lady Amalla since her coronation, so it was time to explain a bit of what she was thinking.
“No, he didn’t come home, he’s still in… Rumbeig. This service project will allow me to see him.”
“Sounds reasonable. You sure you can handle such a trip though? I’m sure they would have ones in the future you can go to to see your father later. You are just so new in this church, we can’t have you going off from us at such a short notice with such little experience.”
“But I can’t wait.” Mella said, antsy at the fact of waiting any longer to find out, she didn’t want to tell Lady Amalla that he was taken and might even be dead.
Lady Amalla looked at her in thought, trying to see if she should really let Mella go.
“Would this trip mean that much to you? It will be two weeks away from here with women you may have never met before. If you feel homesick in any way or out of place, you would have to wait until the trip is over two weeks from then.”
“Yes, yes, yes. All I want to do is see my father.”
Lady Amalla picked up Mella’s hand and patted it.
“Very well then, come with me to my office, I have a packet with the full information. They’ll be leaving in about a month. I can let them know now, but you’ll have to be certain that you really want to be part of such a trip.”
Mella shook her head.
“It would be Castles in the Air to go there and find-… see my father.”
“It won’t be easy to find him either, dear. He’s a general, he’ll probably be in the battlefield fighting.”
“I’ll find ways, I just want to at least see him.”
Cromella followed Lady Amalla to her office. The packet was just on her desk tucked away neatly in a spot probably going to be thrown away later.
“I didn’t think anyone would want to go on such a trip, but if you want to, I will not argue any more, just as long as you know this will not be a little trip just to do a service project, especially when you want to find your father between all of it.”
“What is the service project?”
“That’s another part that is fairly large. The service project is helping the people of Polei. Being so close to the battlefield, the army has nearly stripped them of their food for rations and water and they need some help. There are other groups coming to help them move to another city away from the battlefield, you and the fourteen others will provide the necessities to move to another village or city. It’s a very large service project that will take a lot of time and effort, we have never done such a large service project before, so it will be very large for you. I fear it might be overwhelming being so new.”
“I can handle it.” Mella said confidently.
Lady Amalla sighed and her eyes grew dark and serious. She thought she was serious before, but this was a look nearly terrified Mella.
“Mella, I worry about you. I saw what happened at the coronation, I hate to admit this, but I hear anything and everything. I know what happened back at your house. You didn’t get along with your mother and your father never came. I’m sure that has been so hard for you and my Ladies have tried their best to make you feel at home. You are a wonderful woman, Lady Mella, this project is for those highly experience and mentally stable. I fear you need a little more time before you can reach the standards for such a trip. You are a beautiful daughter of Edda, but none of us want to see you unhappy. I understand you wanted to see your father, but how us Ingostles will greatly miss you.
“This trip is not just some fun in games service project. Please understand. Your father, I’m sure, is a wonderful man, but it doesn’t mean you should put yourself in danger just to see him. I am against of what you are wanting to do, but whatever you choose, I will respect you and you will do as your heart tells you. I don’t want you to go, but in your will. You may. But...It. Will. Be. Dangerous.” She whispered
Mella didn’t respond, she felt chills and she could feel herself reconsidering her thoughts. She knew what she was getting herself into. She knew it may get her into desperate danger, but all she wanted was to see her father, even if it was to find his grave. That was not what she hoped, but she wanted to know what happened to him and she would do whatever the cost. She was a father's daughter and finding him would relieve her of her mental instability.
“I know.” Mella responded just as firmly, looking up at the Empress.
Lady Amalla reached over to hand her the packet, but quickly pulled it away from Mella before she could hold it in her own hands.
“You sure you are up this?”
“Yes... I want no other way.”
The packet was placed in her hands.
“I applaud you for doing such a daring service project, but it does worry me, Lady Westwood. I know you have so much doubts and an unbalanced life and I don’t think this will much help you, but I will do whatever you choose is right. If you don’t feel good about, please, Edda is trying to tell you to not go. Personally, I would hate for you to leave me, but if it is right for you, if Edda is telling you it’s alright, then go. Find your father, help the people. I suggest praying about it, ask Edda what is right and if you get the affirmative answer, then return to me and I will put you in on the list of fifteen.”
“I’m guessing it’s only fifteen because it’s such a dangerous project?”
“It’s small because most churches won’t even allow their Ingostles to leave for this. I put it up because if someone had the inquiry to go for this, they have an opportunity, but it didn’t mean I highly encouraged it. I just put whatever opportunities on the board.”
“I think it’s meant to be, Lady Amalla, this has been my dream to be an Ingostle and I feel this will help me strive to be a stronger one. The thoughts of my father has not left my thoughts and when I found that opportunity, it was Edda telling me what was right. Just like the Ingosltes at the Halmonacs, it was meant to be. I will see my father and I will not bring you down, Lady Amalla. I will bring you hope and happiness that I lack and I will bring you the light of Edda in my eyes. I want to see him or I may never see him again.”
Lady Amalla nodded, admiring her faith, but heaved a concerned sigh.
“Very well. I love you dear, but please pray about it and tell me as soon as possible what Edda told you.”
“I will, thank you, Lady Amalla.”
Mella left her office, nearly running back up the stairs. She knew what was right, she didn’t want to pray about it, but she knew she had to follow the Empress's orders, so she came to her room and fell to her knees.
“Dear eldest Lady Edda, I have so many things in my mind and one is I have to see my father, but in order to do that, I have to do this service project, please, Edda, let me know if this is right. This is all I want and I need to do this…”
Chapter 7- Polei
She was ready for it. It was going to be hard and her roommates tried whatever they could to persuade her not to go. But nothing was going to stop her except herself. The month before leaving was unnerving, she wanted to go now but there was still two weeks left.
Then it came the day.
Once again, her little suitcase was packed and this time she would use her original pajamas. She would stay in hey Ingostle dress the entire two weeks so she packed the extra dresses and other wear and had it neatly organized in her suitcase. She had to understand where she was going, there was poverty and what they have is very little, she would have to find herself in, once again, another new environment.
“Cromella, I know it’s too late to tell you now, so I’ll tell you this. I bid you the best of luck and safety.” Hellany said as she entered Mella's room to take her bag, “I wish I can come with you and help you, but because I can't, I believe the others will take care of you and Edda will guide you to your father. I love you, Mella, but you have to come home safe, alright? Please, come home safe.”
“Yes, I understand, Hellany, thank you.”
All of the Ingostles were out to say good bye, tears and smiles of her daring journey on their faces. They stood in a line leading to the front door where her ride was waiting. Each one bowed, whispering good luck as she came down the stairs and to the door. The man in the car, being prohibited to enter came over to the suitcase placed in front of the door and took it to the car. Hellany turned to Cromella and gave her a warm hug, but Mella didn't notice what was in her hand until she released her. Hellany placed it in Mella’s hand, curling her fingers around it. Mella couldn’t quite predict what it was, but Hellany did it in a way that the other Ingostles could not see it.
“Since I know what is out there, this is for safety and good luck. Lots of love, Lady Mella.”
Still clenching whatever was placed in her hand, Mella stepped out, the Ingostles waving goodbye as she entered the back seat of the cab.
Hellany cried when Mella watched her get further away, wiping her tears from her make-up less beautiful face. She wanted to cry too, but Mella directed herself to have the strength not to and decided to turn back around and look straight ahead.
As the car drove further and further from what she now called her home, Mella uncurled her fingers, gazing down at what Hellany just gave her. She bit her lip, seeing something so small and deadly, just tiny enough to hide in the palm of a hand. Out of all things, what Hellany had given her something she would never expect from such a girl.
For in Mella’s hands, Hellany had given her a knife.
As the cab drove her to the airport where she was to meet the other fourteen Ingostles, she suddenly started to regret leaving. She was brand new to the church and here she was already going on something a Ingostle would wait years to go on.
She suddenly felt sick, realizing what she was getting into. She knew her father was out there, but how idiotic was she thinking to go searching in an enemy camp for him?
She held back the tears, trying not to let the cab driver know she was upset, but it was a little too late.
“This is quite a venture for you huh?” He asked, glancing at her through his mirror.
“I don't think I’m ready for it yet.” Mella managed to say without bursting into tears.
“Well, I believe you will have a wonderful time. Helping that village in the time of war is hard, it’s quite a treat to do such thing. I’m sure glad our country of West Amorco is at peace while we have it.”
“Well, it’s more than just that. I’m new to this church, I haven’t even gotten enough time to fully adjust to the culture.” Then, while she spoke, she started to realize something else, “and I didn’t even tell my mom I was leaving for this.” She whispered not exactly wanting the cab driver to know what she just said.
“I’m sorry, that’s unfortunate. I wish I can help you, but I’m nothing much but a cab driver who’s just taking you in the airport. You got to appreciate the support this country has on other countries though. The help of our military for example or you, even, leaving to help an entire town stranded in the middle of Battlegrounds. So brave of you to do such an act. I think you should deserve a medal of honor when you come home.”
“An Ingostles Medal of honor is the good thought of helping others.” Mella said, grateful to have someone to talk to.
As they spoke, Mella reached underneath her dress and slipped the knife into her girdle. Luckily, it was in its sheath, but it was so small, it fit perfectly into it. If anyone ever saw her girdle, they wouldn’t see the dagger tucked inside.
The drive was long and Mella sat there silently relishing into her doubtful thoughts. She was grateful when the cab driver dropped her off, stopping at the airport where she would finally continue her journey towards Polei.
She thanked him, picking up her little suitcase and stepping into the airport. She had never been on a plane before, she traveled, but never out of her country. It was always car trips, not a plane trip. The security was a bit overwhelming and she had to go alone as she was going to meet them inside. As she stood in security, they took her back and felt her, patting her sides and arms, making sure she was not armed. She felt increasingly subconscious with all the touching and she hated when the guards started opening up her suitcase and rummaging through to make sure everything was safe inside. Then they let her go, Mella grateful they hadn’t seen the knife tucked in her girdle.
Looking around, she could feel the confusion going alone in such a massive building with so many people, however, it helped her to know she had people to look for.
She hoped the red dresses would give a dead giveaway to where they were.
“Lady Westwood!!” someone called from within the crowd.
She lifted herself on her tippy toes to see over so many tall heads but she still couldn’t see the fourteen red dresses.
“Lady Westwood, we have been looking all over for you.” The voice said again.
Mella looked behind her, finally seeing a woman in a crimson red dress. Her obvious length of dress showing she was an Empress and probably the leader of the project, her gleam on the face seemed very similar to the smile she had seen on Lady Amalla’s.
“I’m Lady Lidiac. The others are already approaching in the terminal just before boarding. Come on Lady Westwood, we’ve got a plane to catch.”
Lady Lidiac already had the ticket for her. Mella appreciated the service of the Ingostle and followed her down the large hallway in the airport. They found the terminal, the open room small with just a few nit picky chairs for the few riding the plane.
They boarded the plane in about fifteen minutes.The
plane was small and Mella felt slightly claustrophobic, but she took a deep breath and took a seat with the Ingostles. The plane only held the Ingostles, nobody else would fit in.
Next to her, a short extremely thin Ingostle sat next to her, keeping to herself. Mella could tell the woman was very shy, crumbling up in her own seat as if noone else was around. Mella wanted to talk to her, but she was left quietly gazing out the window.
It took a few hours before the plane landed, landing in a small airport in the city of Gragestire. Three jeeps were waiting for them, each carrying a trailer of food and possessions for the people in Polei.
“We going straight there?” Mella asked.
“I apologize Lady Westwood, I had some time to explain the plan to the others, but with your long travels, you must have missed it. As a quick plan before we enter the jeeps, we hope to arrive at Polei tonight. The people will be waiting for us, so we will deliver the food and necessities and get settled for the night. The following day we will have a few hours to adjust and look around, then we will get straight to work where we will help as much as we can. That is our tentative plan for the next two weeks. It has been difficult because for some reason, the town got stuck in the middle of the battle grounds and any vehicle that drives from Polei or to Polei is a danger. That is why we are taking only these three bullet proof jeeps to them. From there, we will slowly transport groups of the people with the jeeps to Gragestire where they will be safe.” Lady Lidiac explained.
“So you’re saying that it’s dangerous even driving there?”
“Keep a good lookout and if it does happen, cover your head. So yes, very dangerous. I am sure your Empress warned you of such dangers this service is. Although this will help hundreds of people, it may be risking our own lives. Please, I don’t want any of you lovely ladies to leave me, we must stay together and keep with our objective. Edda will protect us and if we’re meant to be alive for our journey home, she will allow it to. We are blessed ladies, I planned this knowing it was going to be hard and I was hoping to get those who are willing to risk their lives to save an entire town. Please, always be on your feet and willing to do anything, this is a major service project that you may never forget. There probably isn’t any larger one. So please, stay together and if we have to separate for events, always have a partner. This is not an elementary field trip, this is between life and death. You all understand?” At first, it was just to Mella, but it evolved to the rest of them as they all seemed to be listening anyway.
The other Ingostles nodded in agreement. Lady Lidiac gave a smile to her Ladies and they followed her out to the jeeps. The jeeps were naval jeeps, they just looked like a hunk of green sheet metal, sitting there waiting for them. The inside didn’t look any prettier and the seats weren’t all that comfortable, but Mella wasn’t expecting luxury. It was a two hour drive to Polei, so Mella tried her best to adjust in her seat, moving into a somewhat comfortable position.
Although she couldn’t adjust, even if she tried to get comfortable, the fact of driving right into battlegrounds terrified her. Any moment between then and Polei, there could be an explosion and she could die there and never get to see her dad or anyone else again.
She suddenly felt like she wanted to get out of the jeep and run back on the plane before it returned home to where she actually belonged. She didn’t deserve to be doing such a bizarre event in just a couple of months even being an Ingostle. But she was there and she needed to continue it. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, mouthing the words ‘it’s okay, Mella, everything will work out the way it needs to be.’.
She wasn’t the only one afraid, the two girls on her sides showed different hints of fear, it wasn’t obvious and they were probably not as afraid as she was, but there was probably anxieties and doubts in other heads too. That same girl who refused to speak to her but sat next to her on the plane was next to her again, curling up against the door of the car. She wanted to look out the window, but Mella could see her forming fists, then releasing it, then tensing them again and releasing it. She knew it was an anxiety thing and Mella was almost tempted to do the same thing. On her other side, another Ingostle, an older one who looked maybe in her fifties seemed fine, looking out the window with a neutral look on her face, but she was biting her nails. She had pulled off her gloves to do so, the black gloves on her lap as she stared out the window and her fingers in her mouth.
The journey seemed to last forever. Mella felt somewhat secure between the two women, but she couldn’t imagine what they were thinking, especially if they were thinking they were Mella’s safety cushion in case anything happened. The silence in the jeep was overwhelming, it seemed to bring more fear into the vehicle and the hum of the engine didn’t seem to help either. Mella was getting increasingly more paranoid the further they went.
“You didn’t ever introduce yourself on the plane, what’s you name?” Mella asked the shy small girl next to her.
“Um…” Finally the girl turned to Mella, although she seemed shy, Mella could tell part of her wanted to talk but she was too shy to start it, “Lady Mgee. And you’re Lady Westwood?”
“I actually prefer Lady Mella.”
“Lady Mella huh?” The older Ingostle asked, probably noticing the conversation and stopping her nail biting, “I’m Lady Eliquie. I’m one of the counselors of Lady Lidiac. It’s been quite a treat to go on such an… adventure. I’ve been an Ingostle for thirty years and I thought it was time to help those out of our country. What a wonderful opportunity, dangerous, but wonderful. I promised Lady Lidiac I would protect those who would come. I heard that you’re new into our church Lady Mella, what brought you into such a trip at such a young arrival?”
“My dad has been near Polei and I haven’t seen him for six years, I wanted to see him and going to this was my opportunity to see my dad.”
Lady Eliquie placed her hand on her heart.
“That is so dear, Lady Mella. You must love your father very much.”
“How long have you been an Ingostle then?” Lady Mgee asked, actually sounding quite talkative after getting her started.
“About ten weeks.”
“Ten weeks?!” Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie said at the same time, both very surprised at such a short amount of time.
“I thought two years was too short for me to be leaving on such a service project such as this. How well have you adjusted, good I assume?” Lady Mgee asked.
“It has been wonderful. It’s been my dream to be an Ingostle for a long time. It was hard when I first arrived, but it was more personal things than the church itself.”
“It’s also a very big culture change. Ingostles are like a species of it’s own.” Lady Eliquie mentioned, slipping the black gloves back on her hands. Her fingernails were bitten raw, all was left barely the chewed whites at the tips of them.
“But the Ingostle culture change has been something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Although my culture may have been different before, I had learned to admire this one.” Mella said, thinking back of her mother.
Both the Ladies laughed.
“There is a reason why I haven’t left it after all of these years.” Lady Eliquie said just finishing a laugh, “there is nothing to hate about this amazing religion.”
“I would have enjoyed a better coronation.” Mella mentioned.
They stopped laughing.
“A better coronation? What went wrong with it?”
“Oh, it was just a bunch of personal struggles... that almost made me cancel it and the attention was a little overwhelming as well.” Mella sighed, the mood escalating quickly as she dropped her head, “and my mother didn’t come.”
They both frowned, Lady Eliquie placed her hand on Mella’s back.
“I’m sorry about that, dear. That’s unfortunate.”
“Well, maybe the coronation didn’t work out so well, but you have mentioned a wonderful life as an Ingostle.” Lady Mgee mentioned, hoping to up the mood again.
“I have. I really have enjoyed it, quite a lot. I just wanted a better start, that was all. My dad was also going to come home that following day and I later found out he wasn’t going to come. That was what brought me here, when he wouldn’t come that day, I knew I had to come to him.”
Lady Eliquie placed her hand on her heart once again.
“That is so dear. I find that you are a very wonderful girl, full of heart and potential. When I was your age, I wouldn’t have even thought of going to such a major service project outside of the country such as this one. Even if my dad was here fighting, I would hope but I would never seriously consider it. That is very wonderful in your part to be so motivated to take this path.”
“I think it deserves a pat in the back from me!” The driver said.
They wouldn’t think he was listening in, but he was.
“What would be your name, sir?” Lady Eliquie asked as they noticed the driver had chimed in.
“Terek. I was a veteran of the Lottoworth War.”
“Forty years ago?” Lady Eliquie asked.
“Fought in battle at eighteen, then I got this rare disease that caused me to be sent home.”
“What disease?” Mella asked, now curious of the driver they had ignored until now.
“Hughins Disease. It infected my inner organs, left me a very miserable man for several months. Luckily it wasn’t hereditary, it spreads in the air from another and I must have breathed it in. I was so sick, they told me I was done and thought I was going to die. It took me a few years to fully recover, but I no longer have such a disease as terrible as that. Although, since I resigned, I found myself stuck wanting to fight somewhere. I helped train other soldiers at boot camps but I never became one. When this war started, I decided to be the military transport. This service project you ladies are doing is amazing and I sure appreciate you doing this. I will drive to help others, including beautiful Ingostle ladies, any day.”
“Thank you.” Lady Eliquie thanked and Mella smiled, taking the compliment half-heartedly.
Mella, Lady Eliquie and Lady Mgee had a wonderful talk, getting to know each other, but not all of the women quite appreciated her there. Although the church itself was wonderful, not all Ingostles are wonderful. Three Ingostles sat together in another jeep, laughing and joking about things that should be pitied upon.
“Did you see that double chin on her face?” One laughed, squishing her face to demonstrate Mella’s double chin.
“I don’t even know how she could get that hat on her fat head.”
“Let alone slipping those pudgy fingers through the fingers of those gloves.” Another snickered.
“She seems so insecure, what would bring her to such a trip?” Another added.
“Well, either way, she doesn’t seem to fit the part of a slender thin Ingostle.”
“Maybe she’ll get there eventually.”
“If she doesn’t die first.”
“Lady Jernia, that’s not nice!” The one in the middle snapped, slapping the black haired Ingostle with her glove.
“Plus, her fat will probably save her!” the third one laughed.
The three Ingostles continued to laugh, their gossip making the driver a bit uncomfortable, but he would never say anything about their rude conversation, even if he knew better.
The three jeeps arrived in Polei with an uncertainty. The village seemed draft and dark. The air seemed to carry a grey atmosphere that carried little to nothing life as it drifted through the streets of the town. Most remained indoors, some outside either seriously ill or doing their daily chores. Some children played in the streets, but they seemed to lack the energy of an average child, hunger forcing them to be pulled down. It was odd to Mella to realize how spoiled she was even just in her country. She had plenty of food and transport, nice homes and safe towns. Here, they had cars but Lady Lidiac had already explained they can’t go anywhere with them without getting themselves into danger. The food was sparse being so far away from the city and the danger of the battlefield left them trapped in their own little town with nothing but what they already had.
Although, as the jeeps came to a stop at the town center, the children ran out to the food, carrying their worn mothers by the finger as they were led to the food at the center of town. This was when people started to get out of their homes, a glow forming in their ill eyes to see help had arrived.
The trip was long, but as Mella helped them get the certain amount each person needed, she was starting to realize how wonderful it was to be helping such people. They couldn't stop thanking, accepting whatever food the Ingostles placed in their hands and walking back to their homes so they could have food in their pantry.
It took a couple of hours before the trailers were completely empty and the townspeople were much satisfied. The grey atmosphere had lifted just a bit and the Ingostles couldn’t walk down the street before a person would thank them. The innkeeper, a very jolly tiny woman who seemed in her nineties, was so overjoyed to have the Ingostles stay in her Inn. Lady Lidiac insisted on paying, but the Innkeeper, Mrs. Mery, merely required them not to pay. Although she was sweet and bubbly, she was also stubborn and would not let them pay for their couple weeks nights in the Inn.
The Inn was simple and very little used, knowing that visitors had probably not come for a while due to the war. Mella shared a room with Lady Mgee, but by then, the hour long ride seemed to acquaint them very well. The bed was a spring bed and a bit uncomfortable compared to the beds Mella has slept in the past three months, but she accepted it gratefully, knowing Mrs.Mery was trying to give them the best comfort she could give them. If this was the best comfort, Mella would accept it gratefully.
As she lied in bed, she heaved a sigh. She didn’t know what else to say. The people of Polei seemed so overjoyed when people came, but she knew there was something missing. Something was definitely off in the town and she knew it was because it was right in the middle of the battle grounds, but something else. It was something with the Ingostles. A few of them had been looking at her with looks she knew all too well. They had been looking at her like that since she first saw them at the airport.
The look of judgement.
She knew, even with how amazing the church was, there was still going to be some who, like all, are human. All humans judge and she knew those three girls were definitely judging. Harshly. She had gone through enough school to know what they were thinking as they would look at her that way. Just as long as they didn’t act on it, she would try to brush it off until she could leave them and never see those three girls again.
But the thought of others judging her still lingered no matter how much she tried to brush it off. It was like a hangnail that was too painful to break off but too painful to keep, a sore hangnail desperate to leave her. Mella wanted to stop thinking about such thoughts, but they continued to linger. She knew what she looked like, how she was shaped much differently than the others, but it hadn’t stopped her from being an Ingostle.
Yet that was still heavy in her mind. Her thoughts kept going back to her mother.
“You’ll never fit in.”
Never fit in… Never fit in… Never fit in. The words kept repeating. Mella wanted it to stop but she knew her over thinking mind would not allow it. It took longer than needed to sleep it off, leaving her lost in dreams in hope that the next day would not bring her more thoughts of her self-doubt.
She was hoping this would help her get such thoughts as this out of her head, but those three judging Ingostles did not help.
Mella was tired of sleepless nights, she wanted to be happy, but her unconscious self kept repeating how ugly she was.
Ugly.
She heaved a sigh and forced her eyes closed, hoping sometime in the night she would finally sleep after her long day.
Chapter 8- The People of Polei
The people of Polei were about the population of three hundred and it seemed like everyone was related. Surrounding them used to be grassland, but it was later used for training for the soldiers. For a long time, the war never came any closer as the grassland and was just practice grounds. It was alright until it was too late. The war started to grow into the grasslands and the next thing Polei knew, they are surrounded. The soldiers, trying so hard to keep the war from moving into the town has reached the point where it was too much in danger. The battlegrounds had reached Polei before they could even blink.
They should have evacuated several months ago when the grounds were somewhat safer. However, when the time came to move the town it was just around the same time the general was taken. It threw the militia off balance just enough for Khyro's soldiers to attack. They expand the battle grounds so they could take the land they expanded and the next thing the Militia knew, Polei ended up in the middle of it. The Army had tried whatever they could to protect the town, building barriers and ditches so none of the enemy would cross their borders, but it was still in battlegrounds, they knew the enemy would find ways to break in. When it was too late was when they had finally found another general to hopefully only temporarily take over until they found General Westwood. The Militia became strong again within weeks, but Khyro had taken a good bite of the war from doing what he did.
Every day, the three jeeps would take a group of the townspeople with as well an Ingostle to help. When Lady Amalla told Mella of who else was coming to help, it meant just the three men; Terek and the other two drivers. Most of the help was dependent on the sixteen Ingostles within Polei.
Polei was on the border of Rumbeig. In fact, it was placed in the corner just a couple of hours from both the enemy and Gragestire. Gragestire was where the airport was, where civilization in it’s city kept it on it’s feet. The people of Polei would be taken to Gragestire, where it would be safe. Gragestire was heavily guarded, the army was good enough on the Hechz republic, they knew Gragestire would stay strong, but Polei was too small to stay standing. Rumbeig was where the fighting was and Polei was in the middle of it.
The Ingostles were just going to stay within Polei, but several sick would need someone to take care of them for the long ride. At least one Ingostle would leave with the few towns people. Although it only took two hours to get from Polei to Gragestire, the Ingostles would spend their time helping the people get settled and then return to the jeeps where they would return back to Polei that night. They estimated it would take about a week to get them all across. They don’t dare take any more cars to take them due to not wanting an obvious caravan driving across the battlegrounds. In fear of that danger, they only took three jeeps.
Throughout the week, Mella was kept busy in helping simple illnesses. She was never a nurse, but she remembered her mother helping her when she was sick. With the help of other experienced women and Ingostles, she helped with warm rags on burning foreheads and how much medicine to give to certain people at certain times. Those who were seriously ill were taken that day to the city of Gragestire. Those healthy would have to wait for the last few days.
Due to hunger, most were puking but were okay while others, as some had not any hospital care, were sick from illnesses that had recently occurred naturally or had them before their city became a serious danger. The center for the ill was small, but Mella was assigned to help the few in there, as the others had to help elsewhere. She didn’t understand out of all places, they wanted her helping the sick, but she would take whatever they told her to do.
She knew, throughout the few days she had been there, that she still had her father to find. Though, when she finally would rest at night just after reading a chapter of The Shei, she would think about how it would all work. Now that she was there, she wasn’t quite sure what to do next. The thought came to mind that they would get all the people out in a week, which would mean she would have a couple of free days before returning back to Chire. She thought to think it harder through when everything is done and she’s in Gragestire. Gragestire was her best resource, she could probably find where he was last and go from there. She didn’t know how she could get away from the other Ingostles, but like she was thinking those continual thoughts, she would figure it out when the time came.
Mella was hoping she wouldn’t be getting sick herself, but luckily, she was given a mask and gloves. Even then, though, she still felt like it wouldn’t protect her from the coughing and puking and the heavy air of sickness lingering.
The boy she was caring for was maybe fourteen and should have been hospitalized months ago, but if was too unsafe even then to drive him clear over to Gragasture. Also, at that time, his symptoms were minor, but as months passed, they grew increasingly and now he could barely get out of bed. Mella tried to do whatever she could, as he had had been sick like this for several weeks now. They were planning on taking him that day so his family went to pack his things, but he didn’t seem to want to leave.
When his family returned with a suitcase for him, they placed it into the back of the jeep and Mella carefully led the boy to the jeep. He struggled to walk, his entire weight against Mella as he weakly made his way towards the vehicle. She struggled, being much shorter than the tall teenage boy, but she managed to help him to the jeep where he was sat down. Once he was settled in his seat, she snugly wrapped a blanket around his shivering body, making sure he was comfortable.
“You know, I would say you don’t need to take care of me. But I can’t even take care of myself.” The boy coughed as Mella took a seat next to him in the jeep, dabbing a warm rag on his sweating face.
“You should have been taken care of months ago.”
“Well…” He coughed hard, covering his face. He was cut off as he got into a coughing fit, his chest painfully heaving out every cough. Then he gave a cough that sounded like he was coughing his guts out and both him and Mella gasped as the boy noticed the blood on his hand.
“Are we leaving yet?” Mella asked, trying not to act in panic.
“Indeed, ma’am. Is something the matter?” Terek asked.
“He just coughed blood.”
Terek turned around to look at the boy and frowned, deep concern in his brown eyes.
“Then we must hurry.”
Two others jumped into the jeep and the driver drove on. The boy continued to cough and Mella wasn’t sure if he was going to make it in a state like this. She wasn’t a nurse, why was she assigned to help someone so sick? She continued to help him, but his blood hurtling coughs was making her shiver in fear of what could happen. He was in so much pain and he simply cried as he continued to cough. It took several minutes for the coughing to calm down and the boy was left leaning his head against the back of the chair, trying to catch his breath. After about half an hour, the boy fell asleep, his head resting on Mella’s shoulder. She wasn’t used to the love and being the one caring for one, but she felt somewhat relieved that he managed to rest. She could see his chest rising and lowering, letting her know he was still alive. She just hoped he could make it to the hospital in time.
“What’s his name?” A very old woman asked on the other side of Mella.
Mella was surprised that the woman wouldn’t know the boy. The town was small enough, but the woman seemed about as miserable as the boy and her pale skin showed she hadn’t left her house for a very long time.
“Hylo. Who are you?”
“Shaina. I knew who he was, his mother always visited me and occasionally he would tag along. She never introduced me to him and he never said a word while he was there. Most of the time I just talked to his mother while he played on his gamebox, clicking his thumbs against those buttons. Technology these days, so addicting it drove me crazy to see him completely ignoring our conversation. I would never have thought he would be in the same jeep as me as we are driving to the hospital.”
“How long have you been ill?” Mella asked.
“Several years. It’s genetic. My mother died from it and her mother as well. I believe it will soon be time for me to die from this disease as well. I have had it my entire life, but by the time you reach this age, your body can’t handle it much longer. It was around this time that my mother and grandmother died as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No worries. I believe it’s time, but they insisted they take me to the hospital since they can’t bring a doctor here. Over the last several years, I’ve preferred home so they’ve sent doctors and I was taken care of there, but I’m afraid I might be dying in the hospital instead of my own house. I want to die somewhere safe.”
“You can’t just say you’re going to die soon.” Mella said, trying to sound hopeful. She was dying, she didn’t want Shaina to die, not while she just met her.
“Oh, but it hasn’t proven me wrong yet. I’m 98 years old… it’s time.”
Mella wanted to cry, but as she thought about it more, she realized that it would get her out of her misery. It being genetic and how she had it her entire life, she knew there would be no way to get rid of it.
The drive was long, but when they reached Gragestire Mella was enternally grateful. They reached the hospital as soon as Terek could. Hylo was still breathing when they placed him on a stretcher and carried him into the hospital, the grattitude that he at least made it to the hospital. Shaina was much taken care of, being carried inside the hospital to hopefully care for her until her death.
Mella wanted to be at her side, but she had to see Hylo. They explained that it would be curable, but he might not recover. She knew that that night she would have to return to Polei for the following day, but she wanted to stay. All she wanted to know was if Hylo was going to be okay.
Mella remained close to Hylo as they took care of him, trying to help his cough and such. She never liked hospitals, it made her nervous. She never knew if she could be lying in that bed as miserable as Hylo looked. She was okay visiting, but she still had that anxiety of being a patient.
The end of the day came quickly and Mella did not want to leave, not while she was still wanting to know if he was going to be okay or not. The doctors told her that they would find out in the morning, but she would be leaving that night. So before she had to leave again later that day, she asked Terek if he could take her the following day.
“Well, I can let the other drivers know. I would actually prefer staying the night here instead of Polei, I need a break from that place for a moment. We’ll have to leave as soon as we can in the morning tomorrow so we can return and take more back here. I understand it with Hylo and everything, so if we need to stay the night. We will, alright?”
Mella thanked him gratefully. Terek told the other two drivers that he was staying the night so they returned to Polei to deliver the message, leaving Mella and Terek. They used to have telephone service in Polei, but they were so far out and with the radio transmissions across the land that the enemy could track, they couldn’t keep the telephone line. So they cut it, leaving a limited amount of communication. That was why Polei was stranded for so long with no help, once they found out, they knew to send out immediate help.
Terek stayed in a nearby motel, but Mella stayed in Hylo’s room, falling asleep in the chair inside. She didn’t want to leave his sight.
When the next day came, Hylo seemed well rested. Although still sick, he seemed he needed that care to get better. The medicine had long kicked in and he seemed to be doing much better than last night. The nurses believed that by how much he had recovered overnight, if he keeps this up, he would be well in a couple of weeks. Mella promised to check up on him in a few days when she volunteers to take more people to Gragestire. She felt bad to be leaving him at such short time, she wanted to be there until he recovered, but she had to go.
Sadly, Mella didn’t get to talk to him long, knowing the driver was waiting for her. As she left his room, he called her again.
“Lady Mella, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for you helping me. You’ve been like a second mother to me.”
Mella smiled, standing there for a moment.
“You get feeling better.” She whispered as she walked out.
As Mella closed his door and walked down the hall, she was stopped by a nurse rushing toward her.
“You were a friend of Shaina correct?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m sorry to let you know at a time like this, but she passed away earlier this morning.”
“Oh… th-thank you for… telling me.”
Returning to the jeep was hard. Mella couldn’t leave not only because of Hylo, but because someone, she had become much acquainted with, had died. More regret filled her, knowing she shouldn’t be going through all this grief. To have to deal with death and illness, with war and trials. The thought of finding her father had seemed to become a second thought as other thoughts of worry and fear had filled her mind since she first arrived.
All she wanted was to find her dad and instead she ended up doing things she would never imagine.
And out of all this, her mother had no idea she was even here, let alone her father.
Mella took a deep breath as Terek asked if she was ready to go.
“I guess I am.”
The driver, with concern, gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder.
“You’re a brave woman, you know. To have to go through all of this. An amazing one at that, you just keep holding on. When you go home, you will look back at what all you’ve done and you will be proud and will never forget. You will be telling it to your children and grandchildren-”
“Well, being an Ingostle, I don’t marry.” Mella mentioned, trying not to choke up in tears as he explained this to her.
“Then every single member of your church will know of what amazing things you’ve done.” Terek added.
“I just-”
“It’s hard, I know. You’ve only been here a couple of days and I already can see things happening that frighten me. It was hard for me just to be a driver driving through all this danger, but it needs to happen to save hundreds.”
“Yes, to save the people of Polei.”
“Exactly, now get inside, we must continue to help them and that means return back to Polei.”
Mella nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. He was somewhat helpful in the situation, but she felt like she needed something else to help her go through this.
As they drove down to the border of Gragestire, usually the guards just allowed the jeep to drive right through the gate to reach Polei, but they had stopped them unexpectedly. The driver poked his head out of the window as the gatekeeper approached him.
“The road you have been originally taking has been bombed, I think the enemy knows something and is trying to block the path. You must take a different path.” The guard showed Terek a map, dragging his finger across a dotted line he had created with a pen, “take that route instead. It is not a definite road, but it is safer than the original route, it will take you about three hours, but once you reach there, please let the others know. If you get into any danger whatsoever, do not, I tell you, do not let any of the jeeps leave.”
“But whether they’re to leave or not, they’re still in danger.” Terek specified.
“Polei is already in danger. This has been a major regret from the government that they never evacuated sooner, well now it is backfiring us in the butt with a bomb. The enemy has somehow reached into this area. We wish there was other ways to save them besides taking them a little at a time to Gragestire, but… I’m afraid.”
“We will be as safe as possible, even if it takes four hours instead of three.”
“Don’t go slowly, be quick, it’s harder to target when you’re driving fast.” The guard mentioned.
The fact of hearing “target” made Mella shiver. She knew what she had gotten herself into and she couldn’t forgive herself for it. They drove one, but Mella was ever more nervous, she wished she stayed back at the hospital and would never return back to Polei again. She pressed her hands together, whispering the Ingostle prayer while they drove. She was still trying to get used to the Ingostle culture, but she very much had learned how to pray like an Ingostle throughout her little time living with them.
As they drove down, the fact of being in an unfamiliar route just made Mella ever more afraid. She could see Terek was watching carefully, checking every corner while still trying to keep on the route given to him. Mella could see beads of sweat dripping down his squared face, his fingers trembling as he drove on down the new route. It wasn’t even a road, making it more bumpy and harder to know if they were going the real direction. Terek had, as well, a compass to make sure he wasn’t going to veer off the path towards Polei,.
Mella herself was trembling, her hands sweating under her gloves. She could feel the paint on her face moisten from her own sweat, knowing a single wipe would leave a flesh colored mark on her face. This time, it wasn’t crying, it was something else, but as long as it didn’t drip, her paint wouldn’t drip off. She pulled off her gloves, hoping they would give her fingers air. With the black gloves, she fanned herself, trying to take deep breaths as they continued their path towards Polei.
“Y-you alright?” Terek asked as they continued driving, but it was the only thing spoken for a long time.
Mella shook her head,
“We should have stayed another day in Gragestire.”
“Th-then they would have rea-really thought we… were killed. It’s better to return to Polei.”
“Unless we do get killed, isn’t there other ways to communicate with them?”
“No… n-not really… sorry. I-I’m the communicator in Polei, I am the one with the Ham Radio and I’m the only one who has one.”
“Why not any more.”
“Bec-because the other drivers never had one, but I happened to have one from the war.”
“That’s good you have it, but I sure wished you left it in Polei.”
Terek shook his head.
“T-too late now.”
For a long time, neither of them spoke too worried about other things.
Mella kept gazing outside, almost expecting some giant flaming ball to be thrown in the air and land where they were. The anxiety of looking out just made it worse though. She wanted to take a nap after her restless sleep the night before, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to in her anxiety. She continued to take deep breaths, thinking of her mother and Hylo, then thinking of positive things such as Ingostles and Lady Amalla.
Then the thought of her father. She didn’t even know how she was going to reach him. With what she had available and where she would be going in the next two weeks, she knew there was no way she could find her father even with the plan she had half figured out. Besides, she didn’t even know where to look. A part of her complained this was all a big regret box and a waist of time, but then she considered what the driver told her. She was meant to be here, that was something Mella kept telling herself before she even arrived. Also, according to Terek, this was for experience and she had better take it graciously while she was there.
She was already having emotional problems before this! How could it help her emotionally when it could harm her physically and mentally as well?
Mella closed her eyes, trying to think of beautiful places, to meditate in her seat. It helped her relax, but it took a moment to mute out all of the sounds of the rocks crunching under the car and the motor and the raggedy movement being inside the jeep. Once she had taken out her physical senses, she did the careful breathing, trying to forget what they were driving through and worked on herself mentally and emotionally.
Five Hours Later
Over in Polei, Lady Lidiac was approached by one the drivers. He had just returned pulling up to her and opening the door to the passenger side. On the seat, another one of the drivers sat there unconscious, dried blood down the side of his head. The driver picked up the man by the cradle. Lady Lidiac covered her mouth, realizing it was not who she thought it was.
“Luckily the bomb missed the jeep but it still left it flying. He was still inside, unconscious but he’ll be alright.” The man said, two other men approaching him and taking Terek to the temporary hospital.
“Alright, so you found the jeep, what about…” Lady Lidiac was caught in her words, she couldn’t say her name.
“No. Her body is nowhere to be found, if she was thrown out, we would have found her, if she was inside, we would have found her. We would have found her somewhere but she is nowhere. We believe… ma’am... we believe she was taken.”
“Kidnapped?!”
“The enemy wants something else of us. We don’t know what, but I’m sorry they took your Ingostle.” The man tried, struggling to keep back the emotion building up inside him.
Lady Lidiac started to bawl, falling to her knees.
“We have to find her. I will do anything! I will pay a ransom, I will find her myself, I will pay hundreds of men to find her. Anything please! She’s so new into this church, so naive, so young! I should never have opened this up to any Ingostle, she didn’t deserve this.”
“It wasn’t her fault.” The man tried.
“Then what?! How can we find her?!” She screamed, looking up at the driver, her paint dripping with her tears.
“We will do our best, but it is not easy. We have had several people taken by the enemy, but they have all taken soldiers and they even took a general. To take an innocent Ingostle is beyond what I wanted to hear. I think we realize that they want something else out of this Ingostle, we just don’t know what. We believe it has something to do with Polei, but it makes me wonder why they didn’t take the driver. He was part of the militia at one time, he was a soldier, it would make most sense for him to have been taken... yet… they took her.”
Lady Lidiac continued to cry.
“Then what? She’s trapped there with those soldiers and that general until the war is over?! We have to find her!”
“Like I said, we will do our best. It won’t be easy, we will try.” The man tried.
“Her name was Lady Cromella Westwood right?” Another man asked who had returned after taking Terek to a bed to be cared for.
“Indeed.” Lady Lidiac cried.
“Well, we must also consider, that... Lady Westwood was the… daughter of general Westwood.”
“Her father was the general captured?! ” The other man mentioned.
“Indeed.”
“But if she was taken because of her dad, how would they know she was here and how would they know that she was in that jeep?” Lady Lidiac asked.
“It is just a theory, it could be just coincidence that the daughter of General Westwood just so happened to be captured as well. We don’t know, but yes, we will do whatever we can to find her. And hopefully finding her might result in finding General Westwood and the other soldiers as well.”
“That would be nice, but Lady Mella is first priority. I promised Lady Amalla I would take care of her whatever happens.”
“We will do what we can.”
Lady Lidiac stood up, she seemed somewhat angry, but it was more in frustration and grief.
“Do whatever you can, I will not have her gone from me like this. I don’t want to tell the unfortunate news to Lady Amalla.”
“Let’s hope you won’t get that chance to do that.”
Lady Lidiac snatched Terek’s hand.
“Thank you, thank you, I can’t thank you enough… just please… find my girl!”
Chapter 9- Regret
Mella gasped for air, but her chest refused to fully take in before pressure caused her to cough. She felt the deep pain in her chest, as if her entire body was squished and her lungs struggled to bring in the air nearly taken from her. She wanted to take a deep breath, but even trying caused her chest to refrain. It was increasingly painful, making her cringe. She tried to sit up, but bending shot pain once again through her chest.
“Please stay still.” A man said beside her.
Mella looked over, the man rolling up an elastic bounding wrap.
“Wha-” she said, but she could barely even say a single word without wincing.
“You’ve got four broken ribs, breathe steadily but try not to take a deep breath. These days, the doctors no longer wrap the broken ribs, but with the situation at hand, it’s necessary to wrap it. If you don’t mind, you need to take off your dress. I didn’t want to undress you without your permission, so I waited until you woke up. I need to wrap your chest, but I can’t do it over that dress.”
She stared up at him unsure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she trusted him or not, she just met him and it looked like he did just save her life. But why? Mella wasn’t overly comfortable to have a man looking at her undressing, but at the same time, she knew it was necessary. She didn’t know what to think. She just stared up at him, unsure what to say to the man. She didn’t know whether to trust him or not, but it definitely looked like he wanted to treat her accordingly. As usual, the habit of sighing tried to come out of her lungs, but it only made her wince, gagging in the air she couldn’t take in.
“If necessary, I will just look at your back to wrap it, but you will have to hold the bandage in front. I will help you on your feet, but I will let you undress. I will as well turn my back as you do so.”
“With no peaking?” Mella wheezed.
“A promise. Let me help you up, I don’t think you can undress lying there.”
The man was polite, but Mella still wasn’t sure about him. He seemed trusted but she didn’t even know how he found her or who he was. The man approached Cromella closer and, with the pain of bending and moving, he carefully helped her up to her feet. Mella wheezed, wanting to clutch her aching ribs, but she knew touching them would only make it worse. Being in this situation, she really needed help to take off the dress, but at the same time, the only one in the room was the man and she didn’t want him helping her. Not only because she was a girl, but she wasn’t comfortable with her own body for others to see. She struggled at school gym even to see others girls see her dressing. The man was already turned around, waiting patiently for her to undress.
With another failed attempt to sigh, Mella struggled to reach behind her to unzip the dress. She knew someone else would have to do it, as it was too painful for herself to do it. It was hard even when she didn’t have broken ribs.
“C-can… you at least unzip me?” Mella asked, hesitant on asking something considered so scandalous in her mind.
The man turned back around, giving her a polite smile.
“Of course.” He approached her, pulling down the zipper.
Mella tensed up as she felt her bare back open to the man, but he would see her back eventually for the bandages. He remained behind her, turning his back again. With the dress now unzipped, it made her life ever more easier and she managed to carefully slip off the dress, allowing it to fall down on her instead of pulling it off over her head. She had never felt so much pain before and she could feel it on her entire upper body. Although the ribs were the most that hurt, she knew she had busted her jaw and she could feel cuts across her face and head.
Out of all the struggles she had with the dress, she realized the main problem was the corset.That was probably why it was even harder to breathe, it was because she not only had broken ribs, but the corset was tight on her stomach. Luckily, the corset was not over her rib cage, but as she untied it and it loosened from her chest, she could feel relief as she took a better breath through her lungs. She was still in pain, but she realized she had more air to breathe than what she had before. The corset fell to the ground as well and she was able to make a better sigh. The sigh was still not full, as her rib cage still prevented her from breathing deeply, but the slight relief without the corset was wonderful. She kept on her slip that way he could not see anywhere below her lower back.
“Alright. I’m ready, and please… promise me not to look at my front.” She mentioned.
“I have already made a promise. I would never do this unless it is urgent and it is, so it is necessary to help you.”
Mella stood there, staring at the wall. She was still increasingly uncomfortable, tightening up. He could probably see her rolls of fat on her sides, making her feel ever more sub-conscious of what he was doing.
“Just relax, I still want you to breathe.”
Mella felt like she couldn’t release her tension though. She was not only physically uncomfortable in her pain and the struggle to take a full breath, but being mentally uncomfortable as a man stared at her bare back. Although her back was okay, when he touched the elastic bandage to her chest, she winced, but it was more a jump than pain.
“Please stay still.”
“I-it’s… hard.” Mella said, but the tension in her chest prevented to force the words out.
The real pain happened when he handed the roll to Mella and she wrapped it over her breast and handed it back to him. She could feel the pressure of the bandage on her chest, but as they continued the routine, the bandage seemed necessary to help her. She knew it was needed more than without.
“Thank you.” She said, still wincing at the pain in her chest.
Mella was careful when she bent down to pick up her dress, but she still had that increasing pain that she felt could never leave her. She pulled it back up, the upper part difficult to place over her bandages. With the tight dress, she could see tiny creases where the wraps were, but she no longer cared. Without the corset, the dress struggled to fit around her waist as well, but the man managed to zip it back up successfully. She wondered if the zipper was stretched, but she tried not to think about it, hoping she could have a shawl or jacket to cover at least part of her upper body.
The man walked to the front of Mella now that she was dressed and offered her a seat, sliding over a chair for her to sit on. He sat down as well. The room was dark except for a few windows that were covered in dark brown rags that only allowed dusty streams of light to reach the room. It was a mess and increasingly dirty, the cold cement floor covered in a thick layer of dirt. There was the mattress Mella was lying on and another mattress lied across the room by an old door with merely a blanket and an old pillow as the bedding. There was a couch, but it was so ripped up, yellow stuffing stuck out of the seams. The fabric was stained, making it obvious that some form of animal had been living on it for a long time. The two chairs in the room had a small table between them and the chairs were somewhat okay. They were wooden and the polish on them were chipping and the table was just simple but very used. The man had turned the chairs out of the table so Mella could face him without the table between them. With the gheto room, she felt more uncomfortable and part of her wanted to be separated from him with the table.
“I never caught your name.” The man began, crossing his leg over the other as he leaned back in his chair, “my name is Brant by the way, but what is yours?”
“Uh... Cromella.” She said, but her name seemed to fade out by a small fit of painful coughs.
“Well, Camilla, I have lots to tell you with a very short amount of time. One, I must let you know that it was not me who set that bomb off.”
Another cough came and Cromella looked at him in both horror and confusion. She was just about to correct him that her name was Cromella, not Camilla, but his other words made her think of something else.
“The bomb?... You had something to do with this?”
“Now let me explain!” He tried, waving his hands in front of him to stop Mella from going off into anything to stop him, “it may take a bit for you to understand and if you lose my trust, then it will have to work without you trusting me then. But just hear me out and you will hopefully understand when I am done. I was not the one who set the bomb by your jeep, but I was the one that bombed the road to Polei. It was orders from General Khyro, I couldn’t pass that, but he also gave me other orders that I refused to comply. His direct orders were actually to bomb one of your jeeps, but I didn’t. I am not a killer, yet I ended up in this blasting war. It was out of my control.
“When he found out I did not bomb a jeep and just simply bombed the road, he sent me out again, but this time with another. His name was Kiam Yist, a very cold hearted man who, when I refused to comply again when I saw your jeep, he threw the bomb himself. I was so furious, I found myself wrestling him, angry. Although he had missed, I was sure he would have killed the people on that jeep. I wrestled him until I knocked him out cold. I left him there and went straight to your jeep. I wanted to see if you and the driver were okay, but as I approached you, I found that both you and the driver were unconscious. I was just going to leave you and allow the others to find you, but I knew it would take a few hours as you were not on the road as originally directed. The driver had a concussion, but I knew once he was found in the next couple of hours, they could take care of him and he would be alright, but you needed immediate help.
“I couldn’t just leave you.
“So I picked you up and carried you to my jeep just about a mile from yours, hiding behind a small hill large enough to hide it. Then I drove back and picked up Kiam. He doesn’t even know I grabbed you, I dropped him off immediately on the side of the road just into our territory and took you here.”
“But wouldn’t he tell on you?”
“You know, I wouldn’t really care any more. In case you never knew, the reason of all of this is because we want to increase the land so we can use all of that empty grassland for our own training. Our side mostly has cities and mountains where we have nowhere to fight, your side has hundreds of training grounds. We had been wanting that land long before this war started, this was just another task to add to it. Although, if we claim this land, we would also want the town of Polei in there. And know, this was never my idea, I’m just telling you what the General has told me. Our side has almost more men than yours, yet you keep winning, so we’ve been trying to recruit as many as possible. Polei holds about 200 men, the general wants Polei on our side so those men can join us on this side. That was why he wanted to block the road, so they knew they are stranded and will have to comply.
“I don’t completely agree with this, Camilla. I’m just letting you know that. Polei belongs to you, and even if they did become soldiers, they wouldn’t cooperate. It could easily fall into the townsfolk killing their own soldiers to join their actual side. Now as for the destroying a jeep to block the path, it seemed very unnecessary. That was why I only did the road, but the general was not pleased.”
“So what? You send me back?” Mella asked, gently placing her hand on her chest hoping it would help.
Although her ribs were broken, she knew her nose was broken and she could feel her face tingling in scratches and knew there was a large cut on the top of her head where he had supposedly stitched. The pain in her chest was all that she could think about, but now the thought of the rest of her injuries came to her.
“That’s the other thing I was going to tell you.” After the bombing of your jeep, they sent more troops to protect the land. It is near to impossible to return back to Polei without getting shot.”
“But if you took me, obviously they would be looking for me.”
“Yes and no. I’ve seen what your generals do. They make promises to find people, but it’s near to impossible for them to. For example, think of General Westwood. When we took him, the Hechz Republic took our men just to find out where Westwood was, but none have found out yet. He’s well hidden and only a few people in Khyros army knows exactly where.”
“You seem to know where he is, are you one of them that knows?”
“Yes.”
“So… where is he?”
Brant’s face went cold.
“That’s classified.”
Mella, desperate, grabbed his arm, looking at him. Although he had no idea General Westwood was her father, he could tell she wanted to find him as much as any soldier in the Hechz Republic.
“Brant, I need to know. It’s not so I can find him and become known of finding him, he’s just…”
“A general yes, but what does this have to do with you? You are just an Ingostle trying to help a small town in the middle of nowhere. General Westwood is well hidden and I’m not going to even slip to even an Ingostle finding out where he is. You don’t need to know.”
“No, he’s… I didn’t just come here to help the people of Polei... In fact I had nothing to do with it, I had something else in mind.”
Brant crossed his arms.
“I’m listening.”
“I came here to see General Westwood. I have something I need to… tell him, but I have no intention of telling people of where he is. I don’t even care if I see him miles from where they had been holding him. I only came here to see him”
“What makes General Westwood so important to you?”
“Well… he’s…”
“What?” Brant egged on, looking at her just as hard to get the words out of her.
“He’s… my father.”
Brant raised an eyebrow, the lack of surprise surprising Mella.
“Your father?”
Mella nodded, releasing his arm. Brant scratched his head, looking around in thought.
“Your dad is General Westwood?”
“Yes.”
“But- you already knew he was taken. Why would you go looking for him?”
“I was desperate, I didn’t think it through until it was too late. Then I got stuck here and I don’t know what to do. That was all the reason why I came here was to find my dad.”
“They’ve sent thousands of men to go find him, how could one Ingostle girl find him? What were you thinking Camilla? How on earth would you think you could find him after thousands of specially trained soldiers spent weeks finding him?”
“Like I said, I didn’t think it through, I just wanted to know that he was okay. I wanted to find some kind of records or something that he was alive, that he wasn’t... dead.”
“Oh, he’s alive alright. They wouldn’t kill the General, but if we don’t get what we need, you may find yourself in a very unfortunate situation. Oh, what am I saying!? You are already in an unfortunate situation. It’s impossible to find him, especially in your status. You aren’t even a soldier let alone some secret spy.”
“Yes, I am just an Ingostle who just wants to see her father. That’s why I did this idiotic trip such as this. What do you want with him anyway?! Because all I know was that he was taken!”
“Indeed. We’ve insisted a ransom and refuse to tell them where he is. I don’t fully agree on taking a general for such things, and it is very much unfair, but there is nothing I can do. They haven’t taken care of him much, I hate to be damp with you, but they haven’t been taking care of him and they won’t until they get a butt load of money. They want to know how he fights, how he keeps winning, so they ask questions. They’ve also done some others things to get information about the other side including things you probably don’t want to hear about. They haven’t been too successful, for we very quickly found out that your… supposedly father is a very stubborn man.”
Mella didn’t appreciate to hear that he was more likely tormented and probably tortured to get things out. Although she considered Brant telling her about his stubborn streak.
“It was frustrating at home with his stubborn streak.” Mella mentioned, getting a little laugh out of both of them.
“Alright, so you got your wish. Now you know he’s alive.”
“But, you see, my first hope was to see him. I want to find out on my own but in order to do that… I have to find him.”
“He’s in a very secured place, visitors aren’t even a thought.”
“So what. I disguise, I sneak in, there are other ways to reach it than just walking in and seeing him.”
“Indeed, but do you really want to get into any more danger than you already are?”
“Alright, so maybe that might not work, but I’m sure they would have to bring him out of that cell. Maybe we can figure something out to bring him out of that secured place. I don’t need to talk to him, I just want to see him.”
Brant sighed, running his fingers through his dark brown hair as he continued to think it through.
“I told you I would never let you see him, it would give away where he is hiding.”
“Brant. For all I care, you can keep me from even seeing others to tell them. I just want to see my father, he is more important to me than anything else.”
Brant heaved a sigh, rubbing his whiskery face.
“That could work I guess. I could fake someone coming to get the ransom at a certain time, so he’s forced to come outside so they could trade the money for him.”
“Do we take a real name for me to disguise? Because that would be putting that specified person in danger.”
“But if we don’t specify, they might not believe me.”
“Maybe we can specify class but not name. Like the head general is going to pay the ransom, but he is sending one of his lieutenants to give it to you.”
“That shows weakness though, it just makes my side ever more worse than it already is.” Mella said, but then she thought of something else, “Maybe tell him I’m his daughter-”
Brant shook his head almost instantly.
“Way too dangerous, they might send you right in that cell with him and force a double ransom for the general and his daughter.”
“The Republic won’t care about me though. I am no importance except for a daughter they’ve never met before, maybe they would consider that.”
“And why would they ever think of letting you talk to your dad?”
“Because… oh, I don’t know, but we can figure something out.”
Brant sighed again.
“I don’t know how we can do this, Camilla. This is a situation near to impossible, I told you whether he was alive or not, maybe we just end it there.”
Mella stepped up closer to him, looking him sternly in the eyes. He can tell she was serious, making him shudder slightly, but keep his composure as he looked back at her. Even though she was half his size, her look made her look much larger than she was.
“I didn’t come all this way to just hear that he’s alright. This has not been easy, I have to see him.”
“Than how?”
Mella looked away, taking a seat back on her chair. She couldn’t think but she desperately wanted to know how she would do this, work it out so she could at least see her father. Brant then snapped in an idea.
“What if… General Kyhro always brings someone with him to talk to your dad. He always thinks it’s helpful to have others to speak to him and possibly find other strategies of getting the words out of him by others. I have been in a couple of times, that was how I knew, but, like I said, your father is very stubborn. If you want to see him, I can insist that someone of high class...can give it a try. I can let him know that you are extremely persuasive and intimidating-”
“I am not that intimidating.” Mella argued, sitting back down.
Brant cleared his throat, “and what did you just do to me now? You looked me straight in the eyes and you told me right. There was no way you were going to get out of this. You can be intimidating if you have to. You’ll have to be a really good liar, and it may be increasingly difficult-”
“I’ll do it.” Mella said, standing up again, “To see my dad, I will do anything.”
“Then maybe we’ll have to plan on that then.”
She sat back down, thinking about others things. She was hoping this would be her chance to see her father. This would have to be something she would actually need to think through, it wasn’t something that she could simply expect to work out. She sat there for a moment considering the pros and cons, but she wanted to see her father so bad, she argued over the conflicts of this strategy.
“By the way.” She added, “You mentioned you needed to help me because there are other things you needed me for. You said we were stuck in this territory, so what were you originally planning to do with me?”
Brant chuckled, but covered his mouth.
“Right. I was so distracted on talking to you about others things and forgot about the other assignments. Seeing your dad would have to be a few days because I won’t be able to reach the general until I accomplish the tasks he had given me. The bombing the jeep was one thing, but there was three other tasks as well.”
“And?”
“Well, since you’re kind of stuck here with me, you might just have to join me.”
“Does it have to do with killing or bombing things to prove a point?”
Brant stood up, approaching his tiny kitchen counter.
“Not quite-” he handed her a sheet of paper found on the counter.
“What is this?”
She glanced down at it and quickly realized what Brant was getting her into.
Name: Teuk Grayt
Location: Gragestire Ingostle Church
Status: Spy in hiding
Objective: Find Grayt and take him directly to General Kyhro
Reason: Get him out of Enemy Territory
“Why can’t he escape himself, because they know he’s in there?” Mella asked, reading it over a few times.
“There are only about three Ingostles in there that know of his existence.”
“Is that why you took me? Was to use me for this Ingostle thing?”
“No, I could’ve easily done it on my own, but after I took you, I realized you could be very helpful for this situation. He specifically called for help, letting everyone know he could not do it on his own. That is why it was a direct order. Just getting a spy out of enemy territory.”
“In an Ingostle church.”
“Yes.”
“And what will that do for me?”
“You help me and I help you see your dad. If not, you may just have to take my word for what I’ve told you about him and… go home.”
Mella glared at him, three tasks for one assignment. It seemed unfair to her, but she was so desperate she couldn’t just opt out.
“Fine.”
“Good, we’ll go tomorrow then.”
“Okay, so what about the other two tasks?”
“Well, the other two are pretty easy. The other two aren’t as complicated. Just know, like Teuk, I am a spy. The next one is about a woman who I need to go to to get some information to deliver to the general. I’m meeting her on the train at ten o’clock tomorrow night. As for the third one, a hospital was bombed down in Henroteir. It went off just yesterday and the survivors escaped. I was told to gather any more information left after the explosion. They believe the information I need to achieve is on the other side from where the bomb went off. You’ll need to help me get the paperwork and such. I just hope we can get most of it.”
“I don’t want to see dead bodies, you said no death.”
“The bomb was on the other side of the hospital, hopefully we’ll avoid the dead bodies.”
“Hopefully?!” Mella squeaked.
Brant put his hands on her shoulders, bending down to look at her.
“You’ll be fine.”
“Alright, so it sounds reasonable, and then what?”
“I get the information I gathered to General Khyro and tell him about you. Then we go from there to hopefully our general plan.”
“Sounds somewhat reasonable, but I still don’t like what I have to do to help you.”
“You’ll be alright, Camilla, if any danger happens, I’ll make sure you are the first to protect.”
Chapter 10- Abandoned on the Street
It was increasingly difficult to sleep. Mella was usually a side sleeper, but she was forced to sleep on her back and her ribs refused to allow her chest to slowly rise up and down like a normal sleeper. Although her breathing was slowing down to sleep, every slow breath seemed to carry a painful ending.
Her night was increasingly restless and as the night drew on, she spotted the silhouette of Brant approach the door of the apartment. She didn’t bother to question what he was doing and attempted again to fall back to sleep.
Brant had rushed outside with a personal task he needed to take care of. He hopped into his jeep, taking the road leading to General Khyro’s office. Although, he wasn’t going to his office, but Kiam was. He wasn’t going to leave Kiam to tell him off at the general, not at his situation. Brant parked on the side of the road, but it looked like nothing was out there. The start of the steep incline of the mountains started about an acre in front of him, grassland between the mountain and the road.
Hidden in the grass, Brant opened up a wooden trap door, a faint yellow light coming from below. He descended down a ladder to the tiny cavern. Kiam sat there tied to his chair with a tie around his head and inside his mouth. He wriggled in his seat as he saw Brant, glaring hard. He could only grunt, the grunts increasing as Brant stood directly in front of him, forcing Kiam to look up.
He did abandon Kiam on the side of the road just inside the borders, but tied up in an underground cell. Brant pulled the mouthpiece from him and allowed him to speak.
“I’m sorry about all this unfortunate thing I did to you. You did just kill innocent people on that jeep.” Brant said, only lying about killing them to get him to be sorry.
“It was direct orders, Brant.”
“I am not a killer, I don’t care what General Khyro says if it means to kill innocent people when there are other ways to win this war.”
“This war is blood and killing, how did you end up as a spy if you can’t kill people.”
“Innocent people, Kiam. There is a difference. When we kill to save thousands, it is much different than to kill to prove a point. I know we want Polei, that does not mean to hurt them. You killed those who didn’t deserve to die.”
“The General knows what he’s doing, you shouldn’t underestimate him.”
“I don’t underestimate him at all, I just don’t agree with killing innocent people. That is all. I will follow his orders exactly unless it has to do with what I had to do just today.”
“I wish I can trust you Brant. You are a good man, but why did you have to lock me up?”
“Because I didn’t want you telling General Khyro that I didn’t kill them. I know you only came to make sure I did it, you didn’t come to throw the bomb yourself.”
“I liked you Brant. To be really honest with you, I was actually going to tell General Khyro that you threw the bomb. I understood, so I was going to let it slip. I have underestimated you after you decided to knock me out and throw me into this damp dark hell you created for me.”
“Were you really going to do that?”
“Like I said, I liked you, Brant.”
“But I didn’t know that. I wouldn’t have just let you go like that.”
“I understand.”
Brant heaved a breath, considering what to do with him. He grabbed the collar of Kiam’s shirt.
“Now you listen to me, Yist, I’m going to let you talk to the general. If I leave you, the general will grow suspicious of me anyway. However, you don’t tell him I chickened out. Just tell him it’s finished, it’s all done. You did what we were supposed to do and leave it there. That way it won’t be lying or telling on me. I’ll leave you alone if you do just that, if you don’t comply, I’ll explain to the general that you tried to kill me. He’ll realize that maybe you lied and the blame would all go on you. You may end up in that same prison with those refugee soldiers, living a life worse than what you are experiencing in my underground one. It’s necessary for me to continue my job and if you ruin it for me, it’s not just going to ruin your life, it’s going to ruin a whole lot more. You understand me?”
Kiam nodded, intimidated by the deep glare Brant was giving him.
“I won’t bring you down sir, we did bomb the jeep, that was all the generall wanted. I’ll tell him just that alright?”
Brant took a step back, heaving yet another sigh and running his fingers through his dark hair. He turned back to Kiam.
“It’s necessary.”
When the next day came, Mella found herself with a minor cough. She ignored it, knowing it was just the heavy breathing that she struggled to have. It was early, knowing the drive to Gragestire was going to be a couple of hours and then to get there would be an adventure of its own. She wasn’t quite ready for it, but she was committed and wouldn’t dare opt out so she could see her father.
She was helped with her dress again and she did her own face paint the best she could. Brant had to run to the store and get a cheap set of acrylic paints that would have to do for that day. Mella did whatever she could, knowing she hadn’t had enough practice to perfect painting her own face yet, but she did the best she could. The only problem was the fact that Brant forgot the hat when he had took her from the jeep and the gloves were on her lap before the bomb threw her out of the vehicle. Mella looked pretty beat up even under her face paint, she knew the Ingosltes would understand if she wasn’t fully dressed.
While in the car, she fell asleep, being able to sit up instead of placing pressure on her chest, she slept much better than that night. It seemed way too quick when she woke up at the Ingostle church.
“How did we get through the gates?” Mella asked as she looked around the familiar city of Gragestire. It was odd to hear that in Brants mind, this was enemy territory.
“It took a lot of talking and convincing of who we were. Having you as an innocent Ingostle sleeping beside me was very helpful.”
“In the mess I’m in, I don’t feel like an innocent Ingostle.”
“Your injuries just made it ever more believable. You know, I think you look very pretty without the makeup, I feel the paint just hides it.”
Mella blushed, but was grateful that the paint was covering it. She had never had someone tell her that before, let alone a guy.
“You don’t really-”
“Oh come on, Camila, just take the compliment.”
Mella shut her mouth, taking it in but not fully accepting it.
A group of Ingostles must have noticed the jeep parked in front of the courtyard of the mansion of a churchhouse, because they waited for them in the courtyard. This one was built differently. It was in a U shape with a fountain in the middle of a large stone courtyard. There was a gate into the courtyard, but it was open as it was Monday just before their sessions began. It was early enough, though, that the prelude music wasn’t even going yet.
One of the Ingostles looked like a counselor in her more open dress, black lace across portions of her dress. She stood waiting with a glimmer in her eye.
“Welcome sir, I see you have an Ingostle with you.”
“Indeed.” Brant said as he got out of his seat and opened the door to the other side.
“Oh dear.” The counselor said as Brant helped Mella out of the jeep.
It was obvious that Mella was injured even under her makeup and dress. She winced hard, feeling the pain shoot through her as she took a step on the stone. She looked in pain mentally although it was difficult to see under all that she was wearing. Although, even the clothes seemed worn, dirt and rips across its beautiful red fabric. Her had was barely on her head with her bun messily placed on her head, it was obvious she was not okay.
“She’ll be alright for now, she was a volunteer from another church trying to help the community. I know I’m a man, but I must speak with the Empress, I have very important matters of state to speak with her.”
“And what about the lady?” The counselor asked.
“If you don’t mind, some new clothes. She’s quite tired from this long journey and has gone through a lot of pain. I’ll be a while with your Empress.”
“Very well, Lady Hermia, may you go get Lady Truly?” The counselor asked to the one on her right.
Lady Hermia nodded and walked off and the counselor guided Mella down the courtyard and into the doors. Out of respect, Brant remained standing in the courtyard, knowing he wasn’t allowed inside a sacred church for women.
It was about ten minutes before Lady Truly walked out, her train dragging against the stone courtyard floors, her gloved fingers clasped together as she rushed over to the man in their sacred grounds. Brant was running his finger through the crystal clear water fountain, waiting patiently for the Empress.
“He told me you were coming.” Lady Truly said, knowing exactly who he was.
Brant flicked the water off his finger and sat on the ledge, crossing his leg over the other as he looked at her.
“How did you know?”
“I could tell, what other men would show up around this time? My question is, where did you get an Ingostle? Specifically a very injured one?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Has she seen a doctor?”
“I’ve been her doctor, but don’t worry, I think she’ll be fine.”
“Loss of blood, a broken nose, a broken ribcage, more likely a concussion. She needs more medical help than just you. This is not a simple matter of stitching a tiny wound in a battlefield.”
“I know, but with the situation, I can’t. As soon as I finish this mission, I will take her to the hospital.”
“Why are you involving her into this? And how long will this mission last?”
“Just a few days.” Brant said, trying to be chill as she increased in worry.
“I don’t know if she could last a few days. Broken ribs can cause other problems, she shouldn’t be going around doing missions with you. It could cause serious lung damage if not treated properly and-”
“It’s complicated okay? I’m sorry, maybe I’ll explain it to you later, but at the moment, I need to take Teuk back to General Khyro.” Brant interrupted impatiently.
“And the girl?”
“The mission isn’t over yet, there are just a few more things I need to do.”
Lady Truly shook her head.
“This isn’t smart.”
“I know, but if you could understand the situation, it needs to be done.”
Lady Truly sighed. She fiddled with her hands, pulling the ends of her gloves as she thought in deep worry. Brant understood she was deeply worried, but he couldn’t tell her that this is all because the General is her father. After Lady Truly had some thought, she turned back to Brant, taking a deep breath as the straightened her shoulders.
“Very well. I want to take that girl in as desperately as anyone, but she belongs to you at the moment. I won’t ask any more questions, but I do ask you to… please take care of her. It’s wrong for me to even be letting her keep her at this, but as I can tell by your sincerness, she’s more important for what you are doing than I may understand. I shall take you to Teuk, but not through the front doors. Drive your jeep into the back, I’ll take you through another door so you won’t be seen entering. It’s extremely disrespectful for a man to enter here, but then again, we have been hiding one for days now.”
“I will do exactly as you tell me, Lady Truly. Thank you… for helping him. And Camilla.”
Lady Truly gave a wry smile and walked off, returning back inside where she would meet him in the back.
He did as she told him, hopping into his vehicle and driving around, careful not to drive through the flowers and bushes. As he came around, he saw a door leading to a downstairs, it open with Lady Truly waiting. She stood as if it was some formal invitation, standing with her blue eyes gazing up at him and her hands gently overlapping on her lap. As Brant rushed, she took a step towards him and waved her hands towards herself.
“Please hurry, there are servants in this yard.” She whispered, looking around the large garden in front of her.
Brant kept low and ran over to the door, entering to see the draft basement of a very beautiful church. Although he knew the upstairs was immaculate, the downstairs was just food storage and boxes in a large cement room. It didn’t smell like dust, but it definitely wasn’t a place for an Ingostle to be.
“Teuk, you can get out now. Someone is here to take you to your general.” Lady Truly called quietly.
It took a moment for him to stand up. Lady Truly adjusted her hat over her honey blond hair and leaned over.
“Teuk?”
Behind buckets of food and such, he stood up. Teuk was a very scrawny man, standing there like a pole as he stared at Brant. He looked tired, his body slouching in exhaustion and his long bony fingers holding the buckets for support. He didn’t look healthy, the filth he had over his body not helping. For a while he just stared, squinting his eyes through his large wire rimmed glasses, trying to understand what exactly was going on.
“Is that Brant?!” He said, stepping around the buckets, his eyes still squinting towards Brants face.
It looked like he had an entire living space behind the buckets, but he didn’t seem to care about it anymore as he approached Brant. He hugged him tight, patting his back, thrilled of seeing his distant friend.
“Oh this is wonderful, Brant! I’ve been waiting to get out of here for so long. The Republic has been watching. and they’ve seen me before so many times, I couldn’t just run out of this place. I know you are very well sneaky into getting back into enemy territory, however, it has been so hard for me, I was forced to get stuck down here. Do you have an idea of how to get me out of here?”
“Well, I had one idea, but… as I think about it, I realize that they would be checking under places in my jeep in case you were hiding. Of course, how else would we do but hide you, but I can’t put you under anything so I thought… maybe-” Brant looked over at Lady Truly, rubbing the back of his neck.
She knew exactly what he was thinking. Lady Truly shook her head, folding her arms.
“That’s disrespectful.”
“But necessary.” Brant mentioned.
Lady Truly shook her head again, she didn’t seem to appreciate this idea one bit. With some thought, she turned to Teuk.
“Fine, but as soon as you are out of those guards eyes, you take it all off and leave it. I don’t want a male Ingostle running around. It’s disrespectful and I can’t imagine how embarrassing it would be for both us and you, to have a female dominated religion and a male Ingostle amongst them. So will you please, as soon as you are safe, get rid of the dress.”
Teuk nodded, “very well, if it would get me out of here.”
Brant patted Teuk on the back.
“Then this shall work wonderfully.”
Chapter 11- Lady on the Train
Teuk wasn’t one to impersonate. Let alone dressing up and having to act as a woman. Cross-dressing was never a thing, yet here he was stiff in a shapely woman’s dress, feminine makeup and a large hat to go with it. Because of his narrow form, he just looked like a pole shaped like a woman who had no waist or a large breast. The gloved hands just made his ridiculously long fingers feel claustrophobic and sweaty and the shoes were a bit small for his very square feet. Luckily he didn’t have to wear heels. He was led out of the back, but he seemed to waddle to his seat, increasingly awkward in something he would never have thought of wearing in his life.
“You do realize this is increasingly disrespectful to the church.” Teuk said, trying to breathe through the tight dress without feeling like he would rip the seams. He was regretting getting himself into this situation.
“I understand the situation and Edda will understand it as well. Before I grabbed your dress, I did pray about it, I got a confirmation that it was alright. But please don’t wear it all day, as soon as you are out of sight of the guards, take it off.” Lady Truly mentioned.
“Does it look like I want to wear it all day?” He asked, trying move his arms, but they refused to move with the stiff sleeves.
Lady Truly giggled a bit, but then she straightened and went serious again, turning to Brant.
“Your Lady will be here in just a moment. You do understand, Brant, that we no longer bandage broken ribs because it makes it harder to take deep breaths right?”
“It seems like with or without, she can’t. I’m doing it to protect her chest. I’ve got a few assignments she needs to help me with and I can’t have her more hurt than she already is. It’s more for protection.”
Lady Truly heaved a sigh, pushing her side blond bangs from her face.
“Very well. Although, if she is injured, why bring her into this mess? You’re a spy, she is an Ingostle.”
“Indeed, but she is here in Gragestire for more than service, she also has an objective that I promised to keep. In order to keep it so, I have to keep her secret.”
“I understand, but do you think whatever this task is, she could have a few days to heal?”
“I’m not sure if she has enough time. It has something to do with…” Brant cleared his throat, knowing he couldn’t tell her everything, he leaned over in her ear, “it has something to do with General Westwood... as you know, General Westwood doesn’t have a whole lot of time so we can’t really procrastinate.”
“General Westwood? You know where he is?” She asked.
“Indeed, but it does not mean I can return him safely back to his side. I hate to tell you that I cannot tell you were, though. She needs to see him for something I am not allowed to explain either. Although, to keep her promise with speaking with the general, she is helping me with some… tasks.”
“That’s dangerous in her condition.” She added.
“I have no other choice. It’s necessary.”
Lady Truly touched her cheek in concern.
“You said she wouldn’t have enough time, so aren’t you procrastinating it by doing these tasks?”
“I can’t help her until I do them, she is helping me so I can finish them quicker.”
Before they could discuss any more, Mella came walking out, looking ten times better than when Brant first brought her. Her dress was new, as it didn’t have rips and dirt across the red silk, she had a fresh coat of paint on her face and a new hat on her head. She felt happier, but he could still see the wraps under her chest and her nose was still broken under her paint. They had placed a bandage on her chin and head, hiding under the makeup, so it was only noticeable to those who knew it was there. She gave a tiny smile, but she barely managed to show her teeth.
“You ready?”
She nodded, but didn’t speak. She hopped into the passenger seat, but she instantly saw the extra Ingostle.
“Who’s she?” She asked.
Brant held in a laugh and under Teuk’s makeup his face went red.
“It’s more like, who’s he?”
“Oh, is that…”
“Yes.”
Mella herself struggled to hold in a laugh, making Teuk ever more embarrassed. Pushing more air in for a laugh made it difficult for her broken chest and a painful wheeze came out. Brant looked at her for concern, but Mella straightened, containing herself.
“Let’s go.” She said, but her voice came out painfully.
The border was not very far from the Ingostle church. When they reached the gate, the guard saw Mella and Teuk in their Ingostle dresses, looked back at Brant and confirmed them to continue.
“That wasn’t that bad.” Mella said.
“Thus the reason why he had to be an Ingostle.” Brant said as they continued to drive down the road past the gate.
“Wait!!!!!!” All three of their hearts froze as they heard the guard call them from behind.
Brant immediately stopped the car and the guard ran over to them, panting as he approached them.
“I’m not allowed to let anyone in with Ingostles unless I know who they are. There has been a major security breach, an Ingostle was taken from Polei, we have to check all vehicles.”
“These two had come straight from the church, but this is Lady Nona and this is Lady Grayt.” Brant said.
“Sir, we need confirmation of their names. They could be fake.” He said dully.
“We forgot them back at the church, would you like us to go back and grab them?”
“You would have to because we aren’t letting you in until we do.”
Another man slapped the guard at the car window.
“We know they have them, just let them go.” The other man turned to Brant, “just know next time you need your passports.”
“Very well, thank you.”
Teuk wanted to groan for being called lady, but he refrained from doing so and simply folded his arms, glaring the other direction.
“Have a nice day, and good luck with you ladies, I hope you help lots of people in this terrible war.”
As Mella sat there in the passenger seat, she got thinking of the different environment. Chire was so relaxed and peaceful, standing in another country with peace of the terrible war happening. This seemed like a completely different world to her, a world she wished neither she nor her father ever stepped into. She had never felt so much regret in her life until she stepped into this mess that she pulled herself into. Mella just wanted to go home. She wished she never agreed to go to Polei, she wished she would have stayed home with her mother and never worried about going across the world just to find her missing father, she wished everything was back to normal.
But there was nothing she could do about it
She had to find her father.
Mella straightened, trying to keep her composure as they continued driving through the Khyro territory. Although her chest heaved painful breaths and it hurt as she straightened, she remained so, hoping it would show some form of strength to her weakened body. This was her choice, she would keep to her personal promise.
“So General Khyro will need me to tell him everything I know, I need to-” Teuk was going to continue, but Brant cut him off.
“I can’t take you to general Khyro at the moment. I have some tasks I need to do with very little time, I can’t take a scenic route to the General right now. I need to take a train to meet someone, if you want to take the jeep and go yourself, that would be fine, but I’m taking Camilla with me to meet her, as she is part of this important task.”
Mella kept forgetting to remind him that her name was not Camilla, but he had said it so often, she had nearly forgotten as well that he never knew her real name.
“Very well. Are you taking Camilla as well?”
Mella sighed,
“It’s not Camilla.” She said, “it’s...Cromella.”
Teuk laughed.
“Cromella?! That sounds kind of… well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the R after the C. I’d much prefer Camilla if I were you.” Teuk said, taking it jokingly.
Mella shrunk, not taking it as a joke as Teuk perceived it would be.
“Tuek.” Brant growled, seeing Cromella’s hurt face beside him.
Teuk shut his mouth and dropped his head. He knew he wouldn’t disobey orders from Brant. To him, Brant was a leader he didn’t want to mess with. Although Mella had barely known Brant for twelve hours, when he said something, he was serious about it.
“Sorry about the misunderstanding,” Brant mentioned, “I had no idea your real name was Cromella.”
“It’s alright, Camilla was just never my name, Cromella is my name.”
“And since it’s her name, it should be respected. I’m sorry Cromella for messing up your name, from now on, I will call you Cromella instead of Camilla.”
“Actually, if you don’t mind, could you call me Mella?”
“We will call you whatever you want us to call you.” Brant responded.
Teuk folded his arms, ripping off his gloves and flexing his sore fingers.
“Might as well call me Teukapoo with-”
“Tuek.” Brant snapped and he fell quiet.
There was an awkward silence that lingered in the room.
“Uh… I’m going to get changed out of this… dress. So don’t look behind you… Mella.”
Mella wasn’t planning on it, but didn’t respond. She just nodded and looked ahead at the dusty road ahead. Behind, Teuk bent and twisted to reach for the zipper on his backside, his elbow pressed against the side of his face as his fingers tried to grasp the zipper.
“How do you women do this?” He asked through breaths of exhaustion.
After he finally unzipped it, he spent those several minutes trying to pull the tight dress off of him. He eventually found himself ripping the dress as it finally pulled off and, with frustration, threw the ripped up dress out the door of the jeep and heaved a sigh.
“I have never done something so hard like that in my life.”
Although, Brant didn’t seem pleased and Mella just ignored him altogether.
“Teuk, you just threw a religious garment out the door of my jeep and into the dirt. I don’t know about you, but I would consider that disrespect. When she meant take it off as soon as it was clear, she meant remove it with respect and not throw it out into the dirt.”
“I ripped it by accident, I would think after ripping it, it was already thrown away. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s gone and an Ingostle never wore it, just a man who was forced to impersonate one.”
Mella finally turned to him.
“So I was broken by accident, should you throw me out the door too?”
Teuk was about to speak up, but he fell silent again. He held up a finger, trying to prove a point, but there was nothing to say to that remark.
“The dress is a part of the Ingostle. You throw that away and you are throwing the aspects of the woman herself.”
“Alright, I get it. I shouldn’t have just thrown it out the door. Would it make you feel better if we turned around and picked it up.”
“It’s too late now. We are almost to the train station. I don’t want this jeep stalling, so as soon as we leave, take my jeep and make your way to the general.” Brant turned over to look at Teuk for just a moment, his eyes off the road for a few seconds, “and just remember to take off every bit of that makeup before you see him okay? He doesn’t need to know you disguised as an Ingostle today.”
On a city street, Brant wouldn’t have ever considered having that long of a time of eyes off the road, but there was nothing around to crash into. The land was dusty and went on for miles with no hills or mountains. An occasional very old house would show up either abandoned or used as a shed for something else. The dirt road was difficult to see, separated by the land of dirt just by the tracks of past cars. Ahead, Cromella could see a tiny building that probably was the station to the tracks. She didn’t understand why it was in the middle of nowhere, but maybe this was a more populated area at one time.
They arrived at the train station in just a few minutes. The atmosphere of the old building and the wait for the train made Mella think of a hundred years ago. A hundred years ago people took the train on a daily basis, riding in their brown suit jackets and floral cotton dresses, a square suitcase grasped in one hand as they stepped up unto the train. Now it was nearly old and abandoned. Mella was not in a floral cotton dress and neither of them had a suitcase. The train that would arrive would not be an old steam engine, it would be an improved train that would work faster and smoother than a train a hundred years ago.
The train still stopped there. It was the closest station from Gragestire, so there was still people who would come to the station, even if it was out in the boonies. Today, it was only Mella and Brant, but she was sure at least once in a while someone would come over here for a train ride. Although the station was filthy, the train was brand new, being a new one, it was silver and had a more modern look compared to the old station Mella and Brant stood in. As they entered, Brant had bought two tickets at a self-paid booth that connected with other stations. He got the tickets and made sure they were in seats close to the girl he was looking for. The unfortunate thing was the fact that most seats were full and Mella and Brant would have to sit in different spots.
“The train will reach Henroteir in about an hour.” Brant said, but when he looked at Mella, he could see the disappointment.
She didn’t want to be alone.
“I know. There is nothing I can do about it now, I got the tickets too late, I should have gotten them hours ago. Just hold in there, lets just hope the hour will pass quickly. Then we will continue as planned and get to the hospital in Henroteir.”
“This woman you are meeting, what does it have to do with me?”
Brant didn’t respond. Mella wasn’t sure if he was just ignoring her or just didn’t hear, but she brushed it off, hoping to get her question answered soon.They stepped into the long glimmering steel box, Mella and Brant separating to their seats. Brant had actually found a single seat just behind the woman he was looking for, but the other seat was clear in the back of the train car, a place too far for Mella to communicate with him, let alone listen to the conversation. Mella didn’t know why Brant would need her for this task, but she hoped he would have an explanation soon. She sat down in the back, sitting away from the window so she could at least look down the aisle and see Brant from where she was. He sat there silently and very still just as the woman he was looking for sat directly in front of him.
She would have to watch from afar of what he was planning to do. Frustrated, she remained seated as the train moved again. Just as it moved, she watched as Brant reached over and tapped the woman's shoulder. She turned around, looking at him with eyes that seemed to shoot blue rays directly at Brant. She wore little or no makeup, but her natural complexion complemented her. The hundreds of bright orange freckles spotted across her face was merely natural beauty marks that she would always have and her hair was merely pulled back in a simple french braid, her face opening up with her large blue eyes.
Mella was desperate to meet this woman herself, and maybe she would, but she wasn’t sure what Brant wanted Mella to do at the moment.
Although Mella couldn’t hear the conversation, she knew they were talking about something that caused the woman's face to show confusion. At first, Mella could tell the woman didn’t want to listen to him, grasping the arm of the chair and and trying to interrupt him, her foot pressed against the seat in front of her in desperation to escape. By the actions of Brants hands, he continued to explain, it must have triggered something because she finally settled down, dropping her leg and releasing the arm of her chair. As he continued to explain the words Mella couldn’t quite understand, the woman had leaned forward anxious to hear more. The woman focused hard, concentrating on everything Brant was telling her, nodding to almost everything he was saying.
Mella desperately wanted to hear, but all she could do was watch from afar as planned. She did a lot of talking herself, but whenever Brant opened his mouth, it seemed to agree well with what she was saying. Between all the conversation, at just a moment, Brant pointed at Mella and the woman glanced at the Ingostle and returned her gaze back to Brant. Mella shrunk, unsure how to react to having some form of part into this. What on Earth was he talking about? Was he releasing secrets that he was supposed to keep? Was he just pointing her out just so the woman knew Mella was with him? Mella was desperate, she was tempted to make an excuse for the bathroom just so she could hear a moment of their conversation, but she remained seated.
This happened for about twenty minutes, just him talking to her with nods of agreement and her responding to whatever he was saying. As Mella continued to watch, a word must have been said that made the woman disagree. Her eyebrows would scrunch up, and although she was still listening, she was no longer satisfied of what she was hearing. It seemed almost of confusion and her foot returned to pressing on the seat in front of her, getting more and more uncomfortable at this unknown conversation Mella was desperate to hear. As half an hour passed, Mella knew the anger was building up in the woman as her orange freckles seemed to increase in vibrancy, her blue eyes turning dark.
Mella wasn’t sure if she wanted to watch any more, she could see the look on that woman’s face that she no longer wanted to listen, her hand had returned to the arm of the chair, her knuckles turning white as her fingers grasped the arm. Whatever was happening, the woman wasn’t liking where it was going and Mella was even more desperate to find out what was going wrong. Her face seemed to show it was of hurt and something personal, mixed feelings of hurt, anger and frustration in her beautiful eyes. What would Brant do to get into personal things? The woman seemed to be on the verge of tears when the train came to a stop at the station the woman was going to get off. Mella could tell there was a look of relief on her face as she realized she could escape this conversation. She stood up, glaring at him in both tears and anger. She said something and with a firm quick hand, she backhanded his face and marched off the train.
Brant held his tingling cheek, watching as the woman stormed off the train. Mella wasn’t used in that whatsoever and it bothered her why Brant had pulled her into this. She was useless. She didn’t even get the chance to hear what they were saying let alone what they were talking about. Part of Mella wanted to slap Brant herself to reason why he was doing all of this and upsetting other women on trains. The other part was just wondering why he would get into this mess and mix her into the mess?
In about fifteen minutes, the train came to their stop and Mella was the first to stand up, running over to Brant.
“So, what happened?-”
She wanted to touch the large red mark on his face, but she refrained. She was too curious about what she didn’t get to hear, that way she may know why he was slapped in the first place.
“Well, that no longer matters. I got the information I needed.”
“With a souvenir to go with it” Melle teased, trying to hold back her outburst of frustration deep inside her.
Brant rubbed his face again, understanding Mella’s meaning of a souvenir.
“Yeah, that was my fault. I was just going to ask her the questions I needed and she was willing as soon as I explained why. The information was crucial and she was willing to comply once she understood what I meant. After all of the conversation we had, I started to get into her personal life that I shouldn’t have gotten myself into. It just slipped out of my mouth and somehow it seemed to be forced out, every word pounding out. I got talking about her… dead husband and the trails and… yeah, went a little too far. I don’t blame her for wanting to leave and finish her farewell with a slap in the face.”
“So you deserved that slap.” She said, not even asking, but knowing.
“It was necessary for what I said to her.”
Mella nodded, not really looking directly at him.
“Do that to me and you’ll get a second slap.” She threatened jokingly, looking back at him.
“I’m not planning on it.” He said, but he didn’t take it in as a joke.
They stepped off the train on the station, if it would be considered a station. It was only a bench under a roof terrace with a tiny booth where you could get tickets. She thought the station to get on was small, but this wasn’t even a station. This one was by the tiny town of Henroteir, but from where Mella could see, the town was nothing but rubble.
“What was her name?” Mella asked as the train continued its path down the tracks and leaving them alone in quiet.
“Rohanna. Very wonderful girl, I just got into things that lost my trust with her.”
Mella heaved a sigh, she still needed him to answer her question he didn’t seem to hear earlier.
“So what did I have to do with this?” Mella repeated, her words loud and clear so she knew he had heard what she said.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but before we started straying off into personal things, I pointed you out and without saying anything that could spread and put you in danger, I told her a portion of the situation so she could understand what I was up to.”
“So I was your proof of what you were up to?”
“Yes.”
“To her, it probably looked like you were pointing out a random person just so she could believe you. Placing me in the back of the train is still not helpful.” Mella mentioned.
“It wasn’t my fault, I wanted you to listen in, I wanted you to be there and talk to her too, but procrastination got the best of me.”
“I would have probably stopped you from getting into her personal life too and maybe you would have avoided that slap.” Mella snapped, folding her arms as they stopped just past the station.
Brant rubbed the back of his head.
“I guess so…. I really did deserve that, but we don't’ have to point it out any more.”
“I really wasn’t that useful. To her, I could have easily been a random woman you decided to point out to prove a point. I really wasn’t helpful in this situation.”
“Well… it’s less suspicious when I have an Ingostle.”
“You’re not that suspicious.” Mella pointed out, looking up and down at his brown leather jacket and slacks.
Although she knew he didn’t have an official home she knew about, he didn’t look homeless. He stayed nicely groomed, his hair combed through, his shoes intact. He wore a faded blue polo under his brown leather jacket, his levis with no holes or faded in any way. He kept a clean shaven face, to Mella, he didn’t look any way suspicious.
“Well, you see,” Brant turned over to her ear, she leaned in even though there was nobody else around, wanting to hear every word, “a few weeks ago, I bombed a train because they were transporting a 3.5 billion dollar bombshell. A… nuclear bombshell that didn’t quite have the bomb itself inside yet. To prevent it from killing millions of people, I bombed the train to destroy the shell. That’s the long story short why I’m suspicious when it comes to getting on trains.”
“But the bomb was on your side. Where was it going to be planted? Why would you destroy your own bomb?”
“It was not orders from the general. He does not know it was me, I am not a killer so I didn’t want him killing others. It was unnecessary to kill others at such an act like what the General wanted.”
“So you’re really against what your general wants?”
“Have you ever met someone where you agree with every single thing they say?”
The first thing that came to mind was Mella’s mother, but she brushed it off.
“I guess so.”
“Well, I have a lot of things I agree with General Khyro, but I still have things I disagree with. I can’t agree on everything the general says. The bomb is one of those things I highly disagree on. Well, everything comes with a consequence. There was a witness, but they were never able to find out who exactly had bombed the train. To prevent suspicions, I knew to go on trains with a partner or some form of disguise. I bombed it alone, when I entered the train this time, I came with a partner. Suspicions had lowered as you have seen.”
“So where is the hospital?” Mella asked, changing the subject.
“That is a good question. It’s about a mile north from here, we’ll have to walk.”
“You want me to walk in this dress?”
“There are no cabs here. If it will be easier for you, I can carry you so you don’t get your dress dirty.” He said matter-of-factly, “what made you suddenly feel like you didn’t want to get your dress dirty? Weren’t you just walking around with blood, rips and dirt across your dress?”
“Well… yes, but this is a new one. I don’t want to break it in already.”
“It looks like you have no other choice at the moment, Mella.”
As they walked, Mella thought about the other Ingostles. Thinking of her dress forced her to think of Lady Eliquie, Lady Lin and the other Ingostles in Polei.
“Do you think the other Ingostles are looking for me?” Mella asked in concern.
“I’m sure they are looking hard.” Brant responded, putting some form of hope in the Ingostle.
“I’m just so far away in enemy territory and… well, you did kidnapped me.”
“To treat you. It was necessary.”
Mella nodded. Yeah, I guess it was necessary, she thought. Everything was still a big blur to her. She was still trying to put things together, but there was so many things going on, it overwhelmed her to fully think about it. She wanted to think of other things, but from her low self-esteem to deep regret, all she could think about was herself.
“So some information of what we are doing, I need to gather information in that hospital. It was bombed some weeks ago and may have some very valuable information the General needs. They should hopefully be on the side that somehow missed the bomb, but we will find out when we reach the building. This hospital was specifically for soldiers, thus the reason why the General needs the information from it.” He explained.
They continued to walk, Mella not really wanting to speak much at all. Every time she spoke, she would have to breathe every few words and it frustrated her. She just listened to Brant and they didn’t speak for the most of the walk.
The atmosphere was dry and dusty, every step leaving a puff of fine dry dirt as they continued down what looked like an infinite land of desert. Mella could feel it in her lungs, breathing in the fine dust to add to her already struggling breaths. She could see the train continue it’s path towards the mountains miles ahead, but other than the tracks and the tiny terrace on the side, there really seemed to be nothing else around.
Although, they followed a road and what came out of nowhere was ruins of buildings. Most were nothing but stubs in the ground, dirt piling up inside their walls. The hospital ahead, faded in the dusty air, lurked in a place it didn’t seem to belong. It was large, half of it crumbled and burned black, the other half barely useable for hospital patients. Between the ruined buildings, a flagpole stood with a ripped up flag barely grasping it’s rope. It was the Khyro flag, red and orange, but all that was left of it was shreds of fabric flapping in the wind.
The silence was what brought chills up Mella’s back though. The sound of the train was long gone and all she could hear was the tiny whistle of the wind and the fading flaps of the remaining flag. She could almost hear her own breathing, heavy and hurting, forcing the air into her broken chest. Something seemed suspicious about the abandoned place.
“How long ago was this… hospital bombed? Because according to the village, it seems like it’s been a long-”
“Sh!” Brant snapped, holding his finger as he started crouching.
Mella didn’t want to be quieted down. She wanted to break the silence, it helped her insecurity at such a place. She was just about to say more, but his eyes whipped a glare at Mella and returned back to his process of silently walking while crouching lower and lower towards the ground.
“Stay low.” He whispered, his words Mella could barely hear.
“Wh-what are we doing?” Mella asked as quietly as she could.
He didn’t respond, his focus was on other things. Mella could feel the fear, there was something around and it made Mella more afraid to realize she couldn’t hear them. Brant knew exactly what it was, but the unknowns of the situation forced another chill up Mella’s spine. She crouched, but it made her wince as she felt her chest heave to the bend of her body. She hadn’t forgotten about her ribs, it had been hurting all day, pain shooting constantly through more than just her chest as the day went on. She tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t ignore pain, she could only ignore telling others of her pain. With the heavy air of dust and bending low, it was harder to breathe, her chest painfully bringing in air that it struggled to take.
“Brant...” She whispered, but it merely came out as a choke.
She could see the hospital, but it was still far away. There was nowhere to hide, the buildings were too torn apart to be a hiding place, but that would be a better hiding place than in the middle of the street. All she could hear was the crunching of her feet on the dirt now, the wind seemed to stop, they were too far from the flag, it was just her steps. Every step suddenly felt like she was revealing herself to whomever was hiding from them. What made her question was the fact of why she couldn’t hear extra footsteps?
They kept walking, the silence continuing. She could hear Brant breathing beside her, his hand clenched on his belt. She didn’t notice it before, but he had an army knife, held tied around his belt with his hand on the hilt. He was fully focused on whatever was ahead, his steps quiet and stealthy as he continued his way across the street.
Then, off to the side, she saw a tent. It stayed well hidden in the dust, the tan tent low and difficult to see. To get inside the tent, one would have to crawl through to sleep, the top of the canvas covering no higher than maybe three feet. Even Mella could recognize an army tent such as that, used to hide and stay undercover. She only spotted it when the tent was just a few feet from her reach. It was between two ruin walls, pulled back so those not watching wouldn’t see them as they walked down the street.
Mella wanted to run away, escape the fear deep inside her gut. She wished she never left the train, that Brant could have just dealt with this problem on his own.She should have suspected that, being in battle grounds, there are going to be soldiers around the hospital, either under cover or guarding for whatever was inside. She stepped into a territory she regretted even thinking of stepping into.
When Brant had stopped, Mella’s heart seemed to stop too.
“Get down.” Brant snapped, snatching Mella’s arm and pulling her behind a shattering wall.
Mella hit the ground hard, feeling the pain not only in her chest, but her head started to pound again, thumping her round body next to Brant as they leaned against the wall. She could hear Brant’s heavy breathing and her fear forced her to do so as well, but her chest only heaved wheezing. It was loud, or at least it sounded loud in the fear and silence lurking in the air. With all the activity, Mella had hit the point where she could barely take in a breath. She felt like her chest had pulled in the air from her, her lungs barely able to grasp another breath. She needed some kind of help, it made her ever more want to escape and find help for oxygen. She didn’t know what could save her, but hiding from an unknown enemy was not helping her situation.
“Brant… I can’t-”
“Sh.” He snapped again, covering her mouth.
Then she could hear them. Their feet crunching, guns being loaded, the fear increased to sheer horror. She merely froze up, forgetting to even take a breath. Her head pounded and her eyes kept shooting around as if someone would jump out from any corner and pounce on her. The silence was unbearable. It seemed like Brant was breathing in her ear, as if reminding her to breathe too, but her lungs didn’t seem to act on the thought. Everything seemed enhanced, her hearing seemed to hear every single noise possible, her sight seeming to glance at every direction at once. She went numb, unsure if she would even be able to run if they started shooting.
When she heard more footsteps surrounding her, she knew that they were walking around so there would be no way of escape. She was dead, she knew she shouldn’t have agreed to come with hi in the first place, she knew she shouldn’t have been so stupid to agree to do such dangerous tasks. She was Ingostle, an Ingostle would never even consider getting into this kind of mess. Yet, here she was, wishing she were dead than to deal with the horror in the situation.
She came from freezing up to trembling. Her body tried to tense up from the shivering, but it only caused more pain in her abdomen, only making her life ever more difficult.
Then came the gunshots, breaking the silence. Dusty holes appeared right above her hed, forcing her to slide lower down the wall. To keep from screaming was overwhelming, her terror keeping her silent, not even tears would come no matter how much she wanted them.
“Show yourselves or we will shoot you.” The voice threatened, the gunshots stopping.
We both hesitated, Mella didn’t want to show herself, but she didn’t want to get shot either. Her green eyes gazed over at Brant, he gave her a firm but fearful look. She knew he was going to show himself, but part of her wished he wouldn’t. With a trembling hand, she grasped his wrist. He nodded at her, looked up at the sky and then got up on his feet. Mella released his wrist and he turned to the men behind the wall.
“And the other?” The soldier asked.
Mella closed her eyes, she had no other choice. She wanted to take a deep breath, but all that came out was a wheeze as she stood up. She held her hands up, the dusty air and the pressure of shock and fear left her numb of even emotion. She suddenly felt like death would just get her out of her own misery. She didn’t look directly at the men standing in front of her, guns point blanc directly at their heads.
Although the guns didn't remain directly at their heads for long, before they lowered their weapons. There was two of them. One had a very square jaw, jet black whiskers across his jawline, the army helmet covering half his head. The other had olive skin with no hair on any part of his face or head, a supposed native of the land.
The one with the square jaw’s eyes grew wide, taking a good look at Brant.
“Is this who I think it is?!”
Mella thought it was only her that was confused, but Brant seemed to show the same face. Whoever this guy was, Brant didn’t seem to recognize the soldier in front of him.
“Don’t you remember me? You trained me, Brant. Does Tryker ring the bell?” The soldier asked, dropping his gun.
That’s when Brants eyes lit up and he dropped his hands. Mella thought for a second that Brant really did recognize the soldier in front of him, but she could see it in the fake smile. He still had no idea who this man was in front of him.
“Tryker, long time no see.” He said, forcing that fake smile to grow bigger.
Tryker patted the native on the back with a grin, looking from the native to Brant.
“This is my partner, Hei. A very trustworthy man you know, I think you will get along perfectly with my native buddy. So what brought you into these ruins?” Tryker asked, fanning his hand out to demonstrate the land.
Mella could see Brant’s smile fade ever so slightly. She could tell he didn’t want to tell them the truth, knowing they weren’t here to suddenly help him.
“Stella... here is seriously injured,” Brant lied, looking at Mella as if hinting to accept the name he faked for her, “I’m over here to scavenge for medicine.”
It was obvious that he didn’t trust Tryker, but Mella seemed to almost believe what Brant was saying as well. She really was injured and it had most definitely gotten worse since they first arrived off the train. Did Brant know that Mella felt like she wanted to pass out in the increasing pain she was going through? Maybe scavenging for medicine was the best way for her even though he was really looking for information.
“I’ve got medicine in my tent.” Tryker suggested, pointing with his thumb towards the army tent behind.
“Use your medicine for yourself, you’ll need it with this war. The bomb only exploded half of the building, I’m sure there is medicine in there. We were already planning on coming to gather medicine for future use as well.”
“Very wise I have to admit, Brant. Better be safe than sorry right?” Tryker agreed.
“May we be of any assistance for your scavenge?” Hei added, his deep voice rumbling the ground under their feet.
“Don’t you have other tasks to do while you’re here?”
Tryker looked over at Hei and shrugged, both of them turning their glance back to Mella and Brant.
“We have some spare time, I’m sure you probably could use the help.”
Brant and Mella both knew they couldn't have the two men at their tail, but it sounded like they had no other choice. They didn’t want to be any more suspicious than they already were.
“Alright, let's go then.”
They continued on down the path, this time with Hei and Tryker walking behind them. Mella was still in the shock of the traumatic event and as she walked, coughs kept wanting to be forced out of her piercing chest. She couldn’t think or react, her feet seemed to move on their own and the dizzy feeling in her head was difficult to focus on where they were going.
When they finally reached the half collapsed building, Mella didn’t want to go inside. She felt weak and wanted to sit down, she had no intention of entering such a building. Although, her thoughts refused to act and she continued walking with the others to the doors. Inside was dark and increasingly musty, the stuffy air in the corridors seeming to stick inside her struggling lungs.
“If you two could take a look in the back side of the building for medicine, Stella and I will search the front side.”
“Very well.” Tryker said, Hei following him further down the hallway and around the corner.
Once they had disappeared into their designated section, Brant heaved a sigh, grateful for being alone from the two men. As soon as they were gone, he immediately started his search for the record room.
“They are usually by the front, that was why I directed them to the back. Now if you could help me find that room of records, we could get this done a whole lot quicker.”
The halls were black and rubble was scattered across the floor, the ceiling shattering above. Her footsteps echoed in the ash covered halls, but they were also heavy, her entire body dragging in exhaustion. Mella would’ve been looking too, but she had already long realized that she was not doing well. She just wanted to follow and hopefully find somewhere to sit down and rest. Her body ached more than just her chest and her head was not only pounding, but spinning.
Her feet dragged, her mind going off everywhere. Her legs barely held her up, she wasn’t sure how she was still walking. Her ears seemed to be ringing, her eyes barely focusing on where they were going. She was merely trying to follow Brant, but she could barely grasp the fact of following right behind him.
“Cromella.” A muffled voice said, but it barely managed to reach her ears.
She merely ignored him, her eyes gazing in different directions.
“Cromella.” Brant repeated in a much more clear voice.
Mella finally looked over, Brant standing by an open door.
“I found the records. Not much to salvage, but hopefully enough for the general. Come on, Mella.”
Brant probably would have noticed if he wasn’t so inclined on his objective. He seemed to have looked right through her, totally missing the fact that Mella looked absolutely miserable as she approached him. Mella nearly had to drag her feet as she entered the room, staying by the door frame as Brant rushed over to look at files. A large portion of the wall was collapsed, several files shredded or in ashes.
With desperation, Brant snatched a pile of salvageable files and threw them on a partially broken table. The files landed in a puff of ash and he opened up the first one, gazing down the at the words typed on the paper.
“I need you to look for any files of anyone living. Make sure we know if the illnesses or injuries have been healed or they were probably either dead or still in that state. Any deceased or major injuries or illnesses, toss. We have no need for those. These files are really important for the general, but we need to work as fast as we can-”
“Brant-” Mella managed to finally say, but it came out as a breathless gasp.
She was leaning against the doorframe, her hand on her chest. She had gone ghostly pale, her eyes not even managing to look over at Brant. She did not hear a single thing he said and she didn’t care, all she needed was help.
Brant shot to his feet, throwing the rest of the files on the table. Quickly, he had grown deep regret of not knowing about this sooner, but he would help her now that he knew.
“Mella, are you-”
Her eyes rolled back and Brant rushed to her before she collapsed on the floor. He held her nearly lifeless body in his arms, the weight of her fall forcing him to fall to his knees. He stroked her ice cold cheek and looked around, he was alone with only a girl lying in his arms.
Chapter 12- Trust
The Empress approached the driver, although she was sweet and respectful, her glare killed everyone in her path. Lady Lidiac stormed over to Terek, ripping her glove off of her hand as she neared closer and closer to the drivers face. As soon as she reached him, her bare hand slammed into the man's face.
“Feeling any better?” she spat.
Terek rubbed his cheek with his good arm and gazed down at his slinged one.
“It’s been better, a minor headache and a hurting arm...now a stinging face. ”
“That’s nice, but I’m sure Lady Mella is worse than you.”
“Are you blaming me for all of this?”
“You knew the risk of leaving even though they had already warned you. We could have waited for you, even if you had to stay in the city for several days-”
“There would have been no way to communicate and you would still be searching for us, thinking we might have been killed.” He argue back.
They were standing in one of the rooms for their temporary hospital in Polei. Most in there weren’t much sick, it was mostly for those who didn’t have anywhere else to stay. Lady Lidiac didn’t much care about the people in there although all eyes were glued on them. She kept her blue eyes directly at Terek and she refused to remove them from him.
“You knew there was a risk factor, I know you were afraid, you knew better. Now I have a missing Ingostle. The one I was always most concerned about. Mella was so young, so new in the church, so naive, so self conscious of herself, of her life. And you let her get taken from me! I may never see her again, she could be dead because of you!” she screamed.
It was unusual to find such a calm woman react this way. Those in the same room now tried to walk out of the situation, leaving Lady Lidiac standing alone in front of Terek. Terek stood firmly, bringing in a rush of air through his bulbous nose. She was definitely intimidating, but the driver kept his composure.
“Ma’am, I am so sorry.” He began, hoping she wouldn’t cut him off again, “I would have saved her in a heartbeat had I not been unconscious when she was taken. Lady Mella was a very wonderful girl, I would never purposely leave her like that. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for putting her in danger like that.”
“You could have saved her by not leaving at all.” Lady Lidiac said through broken tears.
She pulled out her handkerchief, leaning against the wall. The driver wanted to comfort her, but he knew it wasn't right for him to do so.
“I understand if you will never forgive me, I want her back as desperate as you. She didn’t deserve this.”
“No. She didn’t. That’s why you shouldn’t have risked her life just to get back. She could be dead because of you.”
“Ma’am, please-”
“We just need to find her, that’s all I want!” She screamed, shaking her head as she gazed up at the ceiling.
“We are doing whatever we can, ma’am.” Terek tried.
“Well, maybe you aren’t doing good enough!”
“Lady Lidiac?” Lady Mgee asked, stepping into the room.
Lady Lidiac turned to the petite Ingostle, straightening. She took in a deep breath and stuffed her handkerchief back in her purse, slipping her glove back on her hand.
“What do you need, dear?” She asked, refusing to even glance at the man beside her.
“I want to search for Lady Mella.”
Lady Lidiac heaved a sigh, trying to contain herself. She gave a half-second glare at Terek and focused her eyes back on Lady Mgee.
“I don’t want to lose another, Lady Mgee.”
“Its safety in groups, Lady Lidiac, Lady Eliquie will join me for the search.” Lady Mgee said as the middle aged Ingostle stepped up next to Lady Mgee.
“Ladies, this is a job for the men, you can’t do this. I will not allow it. In fact, I will merely forbid it,” Lady Lidiac said stubbornly, “they won’t let you out of Polei, anyway. We’re stranded until it’s safe.”
“Then what, Lady Lidiac? We Ingostles have an advantage. There are Ingostles on both sides of this war, we can probably get to the other side easier than the men.”
“It's still not safe, look what happened to Lady Mella!”
“We need to find her, what other choice do we have?!” Lady Mgee snapped, standing her ground.
Lady Lidiac shut her mouth, she was as desperate as the women, but she was also concerned of their safety.
“We can't drive there to the border, it’s too dangerous with a jeep.” Terek specified, barely managing to even say that within his silence.
“Then we'll walk.” Lady Eliquie said.
“It’s a long way, two hours in driving, even longer walking.” Terek added, his comments getting glances from the Empress with mixes of emotions.
“To find Mella, I will do anything.” Lady Mgee said, turning to the tall old Ingostle beside her, “let’s get walking, Lady Eliquie, we’ve got a while.”
“It’s not safe!” Terek cried, he didn’t want to face any more blames for missing Ingostles, even if this one had nothing to do with him.
“He’s right ladies, please, I can’t just let you leave like this.” Lady Lidiac pleaded, but it was more of defeat. It seemed the Ingostles had already won, no matter what the Empress would say, it seemed like they would be leaving anyway.
The Ingostles turned to the driver and Lady Lidiac.
“Edda will guide us.”
***********
Hei and Tryker were just finishing up by the time Brant had stuffed the needed files into his satchel. He closed the flap just as they entered.
“Did you find all that you needed?” Tryker asked, but he was stopped in his footsteps as he saw Mella unconscious, but placed gently on a soft office chair.
“Oh dear, we need to do something now!” Tryker cried, falling to his knees and feeling her cold pale face.
Brant heaved a sigh, approaching Mella, “She stopped breathing for a moment, I managed to give her air, but I’m afraid she needs more than that. She has pneumonia. I’ve never treated pneumonia before.” Brant said as he placed the back of his hand on her burning forehead, “a definite fever.”
“We need to take her to a hospital.” Tryker said, kneeling by her in desperation.
“We are in a hospital.” Brant mentioned, but it wasn’t jokingly.
He seemed completely out of it, his own emotions out of whack. He spent the last several minutes trying to bring the life back in her body and just a few moments quickly stuffing files into his satchel. That was when Tryker and Hei stepped in. Brant didn’t know what to say, he felt numb, unsure how he managed to save her or if she’ll keep living. Whatever he said seemed to come out without a definite thought or emotion.
“Dis hospittal is not safe. If she has pneumonia, de air and lack of cleanliness of dis will not help de woman.” Hei said in his deep accent.
“We can’t take her to another hospital. It’s too dangerous.” Brant said, shaking his head as he stroked her cheek.
“Why? Who exactly is she?” Tryker asked.
Brant heaved yet another sigh, although he still didn't trust them, he knew he had to tell some form of truth.
“She's undercover. I can't blow her cover or she might get herself killed.”
Both of the men's faces turned into deeper concern. Tryker turned over and looked up at the native.
“Weren't you a nurse, Hei?”
“Only for six months dough. Before I was drafted of course.” Hei responded.
“That’s long enough, can you treat her?” Brant said.
“It would be better at a proper hospital.” Hei added, leaning over and checking her pulse.
“Well, it looks like we have no other choice.”
“Let’s get out of this drafty hospital at least, we can put her in our tent.” Tryker said.
“That tent looked pretty small though.” Brant mentioned
“Indeed, but it is also adjustable. We will expand it.” Hei said as he scooped her up.
Just as he picked her up, her eyes shot open as she shot into a strained coughing fit. Hei adjusted her position, Mella coughing until it turned into wheezing, air barely managing to get out of her lungs.
“She can’t breathe.” Brant said in panic, looking around realizing there was nothing to help them.
“She needs extra oxygen, she can’t breathe because of the air. Quickly, get her out of the hospital. I will search for a functional oxygen tank.” Hei said, carefully but quickly placing Mella in Brant’s arms.
Brant looked at Tryker for only a brief moment before shooting out of the File room. The door seemed so far away, the desperation to take Mella out of it seeming impossible. Mella gasped for air, her face turning from pale to blue as she struggled to bring in oxygen into her lungs. He continued to run, but the heavy satchel was pulling him down. He opened up his arm and let the satchel drop to the floor, he knew he would just come back to get it later.
Tryker glanced at the satchel Brant dropped before continuing to run, he noticed that, as the flap flew open, it was not medicine that rolled unto the ash covered hall tile, it was hospital files. He wanted to stop to observe, but like Brant, he would come back later once they cared for Cromella. He increased his speed, getting ahead of Brant to open the hospital doors. They were sliding doors, but the electricity was long gone, so Tryker had to pry them open again as he continued to run.
“Thank you!” Brant panted as he passed by Tryker out the door.
For a moment, Brant thought as soon as he got out of the hospital, she would be okay, but she continued gasping for air and there was still a quarter of a mile to get to the tent.
Tryker followed behind as Brant sped towards the tent appearing into view. It looked hidden in the dust, the color the same as the dirt. Instead of an army tent, this was going to be a temporary hospital one. Although, as he continued to run, the weight quickly slowed him down. Brant could feel his legs burning, his body begging to slow down, but he kept running, coming numb to the increasing acid adding up in his thighs. He had to get to the tent as quickly as possible no matter how much his body begged to rest and stop from the pain he was giving it.
Tryker had ran ahead and, as quickly as possible, opened the poles under the canvas to expand taller and more open. He finished just as Brant approached where he opened the tent flap and Brant placed Cromella on the bed. He almost threw her, a sigh of relief as she was in the place she was supposed to be.
She continued to gasp and Brant knew she merely only had a few seconds. He reached down, pulling his mouth to hers, forcing the oxygen into her lungs. Within a couple of minutes, Hei had found some form of oxygen, rushing over to assist the dying girl in the tent. It was not an oxygen tank, but it was a mask to push more oxygen into her lungs. Hei didn’t even hesitate when he knelt beside her and placed the mask on her face, doing whatever he could to save her.
“Did you find any painkillers?” Hei asked, not even looking up at Brant.
“I didn’t.” Brant responded, regretting he didn’t even search for any.
“I did.” Tryker mentioned.
“Good, ged it for her. Her lungs are bruised, it will help her breade better if she has pain killers. I could not find an oxyden tank, bud we must give extra oxygen to her every few minutes until I do find it. If I ever will.” Hei said as he squeezed the tube that pushed oxygen into her system.
Tryker scurried through his own satchel, rummaging through bottles until he pulled out the bottle of painkiller. With hands that were trying to move faster than they could function, he managed to get the cap open and pour a couple of pills into the palm of his hand. He handed it over to Hei, who took them and turned to Mella.
“And water?”
Brant saw a water bottle beside him and picked it up, handing it to Hei as well.
“Good, tank you. Now, go back to de hospital and find an oxygen tank. I will take care of de woman.”
Both Brant and Tryker nodded, stepping out of the tent and closing it shut. After the long run, neither of them could run any more. They merely walked, still trying to catch their breath as the dry air stung in their lungs. Their legs dragged across the ground, Brant’s arms just as exhausted from holding that much weight for so long.
Brant wasn’t really sure what to do. He hadn’t enough experience with hospital care, but he didn’t trust either Hei or Tryker. Working with the general, he had experienced dozens of traitors he thought he trusted. He refused to fully trust anyone and these two men he struggled to gain any form of trust. They may know him, but he had no recognition of who they were or how he met them. He didn’t recognize Tryker one bit and it made him question on whether Tryker himself was a spy from the other side.
“You probably would have found pain killer if you would have looked for it.” Tryker muttered, not even looking at Brant as they continued to walk.
“Excuse me?”
Tryker looked at Brant.
“Your satchel had no medicine in it. It made me question why you were in the supply room instead of elsewhere. You needed to find files, that’s what I saw. A satchel of files. Not medicine.”
“I was coming to the hospital for more than medical care.” Brant specified.
“Obviously, but if we weren’t there, Stella would have died because you didn’t even bother helping her.”
“She was not actually sick when I told you she was. Or at least, not what I knew at the time. She did get into an accident that broke a few ribs and gave her a minor concussion, but I had already taken care of it, she had been treated and well taken care of. She was doing fine until just now. I only told you what I thought was a lie because the files are classified for a different mission. When I went to search for the files, that was then that I noticed she really was sick. I had no idea she was actually ill until it was too late.”
“So you lied.”
“Indeed, but it was for safety. It was necessary at the time.” Brant said as they reentered the hospital.
“You didn’t trust us?” Tryker asked, not believing what he was hearing.
“No.” He said, not even looking over at Tryker to answer.
“I mean, it’s hard to trust when so many have deceived you, but you trained me yourself. You made me into the man I am today, I know how to fight because of you. Why would I turn against you?”
Brant sharply turned to him,
“Because I don’t remember you.”
Tryker shut his mouth. He distinctly remembered him, his trainer. He looked up to such a man and after seeing him by the hospital, he couldn’t believe it. Now here he was, the person he looked up to for so long, said he didn’t even remember him. Inside the young adult, Tryker’s soul seemed a bit crushed to realize he really wasn’t what he thought he was to Brant.
“How can you not remember me?” He asked in hurt.
“You were probably one of hundreds I had trained, there is no way I could remember every single one.”
“I was like your favorite student. I worked my guts out with you, you sent me on my first mission, you fought with me, you found me a partner and I went out to fight. How can you forget me?”
“I don’t know why and that’s what makes me hesitate. You could be telling me the truth and I just simply don’t remember because i’ve done so much since then, or it could be that you have such a good lie, it seems like you're telling the truth. But I. Don’t. Know. That’s why I struggle to trust you.”
Tryker was no older than twenty-five, he was trained some six years ago, to him, it wasn’t very long ago, but maybe it was to Brant. Either way, Tryker felt terrible to realize how much his own trainer distrusted him. Brant was his all time favorite, to Tryker, he would never forget him. Yet, Brant had forgotten him.
“Alright, well, if Hei and I save your girl, then will you trust us?”
“I would consider it, but it doesn’t just take a day to trust someone.” Brant said stubbornly, looking ahead at the hospital instead of at his, supposed, trainee.
“Of course. I know. But even after you’ve lied to me, Brant, even after you told me what you were really up to, I still trust you. So if I trust you, why don’t you trust us back?”
Brant didn’t want to talk about it. He had trust issues for a reason and he didn’t want to talk about it, no matter how desperate Tryker was to hear about his problems. Brant tried not to recall back to his past experiences, when he faced people he was so close to betray him like that. Leave him in the dust, losing the loyalty they had with him. He didn’t want to go through that, anyone he met he automatically distrusted. Nothing would gain their trust unless they did something out of a blue that absolutely proved of their loyalty.
But Tyrker wanted to know.
“What was your partner's name?” Brant asked as they entered one of the hospital rooms to hopefully find an oxygen tank.
“Covern Lipp.” Tryker responded, trying to open a locked closet. He didn’t even hesitate to say the unique name.
“Covern Lipp?”
“Yes, he was my partner for almost a year before he-”
“Died in combat.” Brant finished.
“So you remember Covern but not me?” Tryker asked very offended.
“I spoke at his funeral.”
Tryker stopped, pointing at himself.
“I was there, Brant, I was there at Covern’s funeral. How can you freaking forget?”
Brant heaved a sigh,
“I guess... now that I think about it, I think I do remember you.” Brant said as he opened a cupboard to find it empty inside. Brant turned to Tryker, “how old were you?”
“Twenty.”
“And how old are you now?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Five years ago. Yeah, maybe the fact why I don’t remember you is because you were so young then. Your face was thin, your eyes had seen much less than now, you had an innocent glow of someone who had never seen death before. I didn’t recognize you because you had changed so much. That’s why Tryker. You were someone else five years ago, that’s why it seemed to be that I didn’t remember you.”
Tryker gleamed inside, finally, something had triggered his memory. It made him ever more grateful that Brant had remembered some form of reasoning of forgetting him.
When they realized it was not in that room, they continued to check out the other rooms, but several were collapsed or completely empty, hollowed out by others or were disintegrated by the bomb.
“And what about Hei?” Brant asked as they stepped into a half collapsed hospital room, “how did you meet him?”
“After Covern’s death, I was given group missions. One of which was inside Hei’s village. I had to take the natives to see if any would join the army and if not, we would shoot them. The men were forced to join, but Hei was not one of them. He was the only one that volunteered before we even threatened.”
“How could he trust you after that then?”
“He hated his village. His mother was actually white, but he grew up with his native father. Although, he loved his mother more than his dad. He believed his mother when she kept telling him how terrible they were. He listened to her when she said how much she regretted marrying his dad, he was desperate to leave the village when we raided it.”
“Interesting.”
“Hey, I found an oxygen tank!” Tryker called, pulling out the metal tube from inside a closet.
They placed it on the bed, testing it if it still worked, but the gage gave zero.
“This won’t work.” Brant said disappointed.
They continued to search, finding several of the tanks, but some were either damaged or empty. They didn’t even bother checking the exploded part of the hospital, they knew there wouldn’t just be damaged oxygen tanks over there, but other things they wished to avoid.
Within a couple of hours, they had searched the hospital all of the way to the back end. They knew they were in a hurry to help Mella, but at the same time, they needed that moment to slow down. They finally found a tank that had some form of oxygen to at least last a few minutes, but it took them merely two hours to find it. They took it, Tryker carrying it as they made their way back to the doors and out towards the tent.
Hei was overjoyed when they found it. The little the tank had would have to do for now, accepting whatever they had available. Mella seemed to be breathing better, but her face looked so ill, a heavy sweat on her shivering body. Hei had bundled her up tight in blankets, dabbing her forehead with a warm rag. She had fallen back into unconsciousness again, so sick it hurt Brant inside. He had to keep her promise.
It was late evening now. Although Brant was increasingly tired, he could not rest as he saw what was happening to Mella. He could only hear her gasping for air, groaning in the midst of it. He felt like he wouldn’t be able to sleep until Cromella was fully recovered. He had so many mixed feelings and emotions going on in his head and as he recalled back to the rest of the day, it hurt his head. He couldn’t believe that all that had happened from saving Teuk to speaking with Rimana to trying to save Mella’s life at a bombed down hospital and two men he struggled to trust, was all in one day. He could barely grasp that fact that the long day had brought so much trouble into him.
Although, between all that had happened that day, something else troubled him.
He needed to get back to the general.
Chapter 13- A Servant of Two masters
Brant stayed for another two days, but he knew it was a risk for him as the general was waiting for his arrival three days ago. After bombing the jeep, he was supposed to go straight from there to the Ingostle church. That was both his and the General's plan. Then, the following day, he would take the train to meet Rohana and then stop at the hospital, get the files and report to the General that night. He was left with no other choice as the conflicts of a sick Ingostle and two soldiers kept him from reaching the General. He would have a lot of explaining to do with some lies to explain to the General why he delayed so long.
He couldn’t take Mella with him, not right now, not while she was in this state, but he couldn’t leave her. Although he was starting to trust Tryker and Hei a little more, he didn’t trust them enough to leave Mella completely alone with them for a few more days. There was so many situations he couldn’t fix. Whether he stayed or left, he was going to cause a problem one way or another. It was like serving two masters, leaving him with either choice A or choice B, never both.
“How is she doing?” Brant asked Hei as the native stepped out of the tent.
Although he had been there, he hadn’t seen Mella for several hours as Hei needed privacy to tend for her care.
“It’s hard to treat those with such trauma on her chest as de woman. Aldough, she may be back on her feet in about ten days.”
“Ten days?!”
“Bruised lungs is a long healing process let alone fractured ribs. I took de wrap off from around her chest for better breathing and have been giving her frequent pain killers. She sometimes doesn’t want to breathe because breathing hurts; to help her, the pair killer, the loosening of the bandages and the oxygen has helped her through her healing process. She is somewhat alright, but it could be better.”
Brant heaved a sigh. He was sitting on the ground next to Tryker, looking through the files he had brought back from the hospital, but he had ignored them as he was fully focused on the tall olive-skinned man standing above him. It was no longer a secret to the two, but because it was supposed to be a secret mission, they prevented from watching him as he looked through them.
“Before you go back in, Hei, I need to speak to both you and Tryker.” Brant said, pushing the files off to the side.
Brant got up to his feet, Tryker following after. They listened in and Brant took in a breath of air through his nose.
“I need to go.”
“Go? How do you mean?” Hei asked.
“I was given three tasks, the files at this hospital one of them. I was supposed to report back to the General three days ago. Well, if I wait any longer I, myself, may get killed if I’m not already dead.”
“What about de Ingostle?” Hei questioned.
“Well, that’s what I need to talk to you about. Obviously, she can’t come with me as she can barely stay conscious and breathe properly at the moment, but I can’t leave her for good. I’ll need to come back, but it may take me a few days to do so. That means I will be putting my complete trust on the two of you.”
“Yes, we understand.” Tryker said, part of the young man was thrilled that they were given the rights of trust from Brant, but he knew he would have to up his act to truly prove that he could be fully trusted to take in Mella while he was gone.
“Good. This is very big for me, I don’t want to leave her, but it sounds like I have no other choice. Tryker knows I’ve had some trust issues and this is something that will most definitely give you my full and complete trust. If I come back and you’ve hurt her in any way possible or done something that was not confirmed by me, you will face the consequences.”
“Consequence of what?” Tryker asked.
Brant sighed, he despised the word. He wished he would never say it, but he kept telling himself, deep in his head; ‘It’s necessary for the sake of the woman I promised to keep safe’.
“I will kill you both.” Brant prevented himself from cringing, knowing this was something he hoped he would never say.
Hei perfectly understood this threat, but Tryker seemed a bit more surprised. Tryker knew Brant, although a hard worker and as stubborn as a rock, he knew Brant wouldn’t kill someone unless it was absolutely necessary and with a very very good reason. He took this threat seriously, knowing they would have to protect Mella with their life.
“Alright then, Brant. You have our trust.” Tryker said.
“Indeed.” Hei agreed, tilting his head forward in agreement.
They both shook Brant’s hand to prove that they would keep his promise with their life.
“When will you leave?”
“As soon as possible. But before I go, I need to talk to her.”
“She is resting.” Hei mentioned.
“I understand, but whether she hears it or not, I need to let her know.”
“Very well.”
Hei opened the flap of the tent and Brant entered alone while Hei and Tryker remained outside.
Brant approached Mella, stroking her cheek. She looked so pasty, a heavy sweat still sticking to her forehead. All he wanted was to stay and make sure she would be alright, but he had to leave, he had to serve the other master.
“I have to go.” He started, whispering the words as he gazed down at her face, “I still have not broken your promise, I will come back as soon as I possibly can and I will take you to your father. I will have a good talk with the general, then I will come back and I will take you there. That’s a promise, Cromella. Tryker and Hei will take care of you, my full trust is on them, but I will not allow them to hurt you in any other way.”
Brant heaved another sigh, closing his eyes. To leave was too difficult as he saw the unconscious woman beside him. He gazed back down at her and ran the back of his hand on her cheek.
“Get better soon.” He added as he kissed her gently on the forehead.
Brant got up, just about to leave, but he was stopped as he heard a whisper.
“Brant…” The whisper was faint and under the breath, but he knew where it had come from.
Inside, it hurt, emotionally and mentally he was not okay. He exited the tent and, gathering the files into his satchel and passing Tryker and Hei on the way, he left.
He took the midnight train to the city. The leather seat was uncomfortable and his mind was heavy on the Ingostle he just left. As soon as he arrived, he found an abandoned apartment where he settled in for the night. He could probably afford a better place to stay, but his money was stashed up safely elsewhere. He preferred somewhere where he could avoid people and sleep alone.
The night was restless, as he dreamed of Mella and the General. Anything that could go bad happened in his dreams, the nightmare adding to the nightmare he was already having. It all started with Hei and Tryker hurting Mella, leaving her dying in his arms. Then her death, her dead body dangling as he held her in tears, her lifeless body crushing his soul. He cried for what seemed like hours in this nightmare, he had fallen to his knees still holding her until she disappeared and he was kneeling by her grave. Engraven under her name said:
A Promise He didn’t Keep
He continued to cry until the General stepped on the flowers placed neatly in front of her grave. Next thing he knew, he was getting shoved into jail in the same cell as General Westwood. General Westwood, beaten up and rotting in his cell glared over at him and with a shrill cry, he said:
“You’ll break her promise if you keep this up. Better just give up, you’re better off dead now!”
Next thing he knew, he was running down the street shooting every single person visible because Mella was dead. He screamed as he shot until he was standing in a city of dead bodies. Then, he heard a final shot that didn’t belong to his own gun. He gazed down at his chest, a bloody hole directly where his heart was and looked over at General Kyhro.
He woke up trembling, screaming with a heavy cold sweat smothering his entire body. He was still breathing, but the images in his head couldn’t leave him. Brant was grateful he was alone, but the pain of such a nightmare left him in tears. For several minutes, he trembled, forcing his mind to get it out of his thoughts, but they still lingered. It dragged on and on in his head, tears and sweat covering his face.
He got up to his feet, but they could barely move as he struggled to make his way towards his satchel. He pulled out his canteen, his hands trembling as he tried to pour water into his increasingly dry mouth, hoping the moisture would sooth him in some possible way. He leaned his head back to pour the water, but he could barely focus to where it was going and the water missed his mouth. He shook his head, the water falling next to him and pouring out across the cement floor underneath. When he realized he couldn’t even take a gulp of water, he quickly returned back to his corner where he wrapped himself tight in the thin blanket he had. He didn’t rest for the rest of the night. He merely stayed wide awake, deep thoughts keeping him alert for any possible outcome that may come in his unknown future. Any noise frightened him, making him jump in fear, but the silence horrified him. It merely reminded him that Mella was not in with him, he was alone and it gave him remorse for what he had done.
When daylight barely hit the valley, Brant shot out of the apartment. All the old building reminded him of now, was the fact that Mella wasn’t with him and he wanted to escape. He found himself sitting alone at an urban bakery across the street, his eyes barely managing to stay open as he stood in front of the cashier. He could barely afford a pastry, but when the baker looked at the miserable sleep deprived man in front of him, he gave it to him with the money he had.
Brant ate it slowly, his head still dazed in other thoughts. He sat under the trellis of the welcoming bakery, barely thinking before he sunk his teeth slowly into the pastry. He wanted to sleep, but his mind told him that he would merely return to that nightmare if he did so. He continued eating, sitting in deep thought, so numb to anything surrounding him.
“Is that Brant?” Brant stopped eating and snapped out of his thoughts, looking over at the woman talking.
He was hoping to never see her again, but it looked like she had long forgiven him as she approached him. What confused him more, though, was the fact that she had said his real name. He never told her his real name, he gave her his fake name; Jach. Yet, as the freckled faced woman ran over to him in excitement, it confused him ever more.
“Hello Rohana.” He said, barely looking surprised as his mind refused to function correctly.
Rohana took a seat across from him, a cup of coffee in her hand. Her electric blue eyes short directly through his, a welcoming smile on her lips. Part of Brant wished he accepted her presence better than he did, but his mind merely told him to sleep and not talk to anyone.
“You know,” She started, swirling her coffee in her cup, “I considered what you told me on that train. I’m sorry I overreacted, it’s been hard since he died and I didn’t want to bring it back up again.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that too. It was my fault, I was getting too far into personal business.” Brant managed to say.
“I don’t blame you though, my husband was a wonderful man. After his death I could barely grasp of even hearing his name. I didn’t know then...that you were his brother you know. I had barely knew who you were and you knew so much and it was so terrifying… I couldn’t take it in, not then. Who could know so much of my husband and myself yet I had never met him before in my life? It wasn’t until afterwards, I had caught your real name. I managed to get a hold of the records of the seating arrangement on the train. That was when I realized what your name was. Brant. There I realized that you were his brother, my… brother-in-law. You knew so much because you were family. Now I understand why you got into such business about my husband, it was because you had to know. I understand that you needed to find out more about my husband because he was your family too. After I realized what all had happened, I quickly forgave you. I understand now, Brant, and I’m so sorry I reacted the way I did.”
“You’re a very smart woman, Rohana.” Brant complimented.
She blushed.
“Thank you-”
At first, she looked away embarrassed, but she snapped out of it as she actually got a good look at Brant. Her blushing turned to concern as she observed his scruffy tired look.
“Oh Brant, you look terrible. What have you done since I’ve last seen you?”
“Long story.” He muttered, running his fingers through his dust crusted hair.
He suddenly wanted to avoid her eye contact. He didn’t want to explain the story, he just wanted to be left alone.
“Where’s your wife?”
“She’s actually not my wife. Did you notice what she was wearing? She’s an Ingostle, she can’t even marry. I’ve been trying to help her, but she hasn’t been doing so great. I had to leave her with a couple of friends so I could speak to the General. I ah... promised to come back.”
“It looks like you have a lot of things heavy in your mind.” She said, turning her head so she could look into Brants eyes.
“Indeed.” He answered, shoving his face into his filthy hands.
He had no idea how miserable he was looking until he had stepped into the city where he looked filthy compared to the clean city folk walking down the streets. The lack of sleep in an abandoned apartment did not help.
Rohana placed her hand on his shoulder.
“I live just down the street. Let’s get you cleaned up and maybe you can actually get some rest.”
Brant shook his head.
“I have to see the General.”
“He won’t want to see you in this. He can wait a few hours.”
Brant sighed, he needed food, he needed to be cleaned up, he needed rest. He’d hadn’t slept for days, it wasn’t just last night, last night was merely a very restless one.
“Very well then.”
Rohana stood up.
“Come on then, you might as well meet your niece too.”
Brant got up, following Rohana out of the cafe. She didn’t get a cab like expected, she just kept walking and Brant continued to follow.
She lived in a white brick apartment, vines growing across the outside walls. She lived maybe a block from the cafe and it seemed pleasant for someone such as her to be living in. It had two old double doors to the apartment that were probably a hundred years old and in entering, the halls gave off a musty smell of mold and decaying wood. The floors creaked under Brant’s feet, and dust lingered through the air as they made their way down the hall. Rohana pulled out her apartment key as they approached door with the number: 14 on it. The apartment door opened to a quaint room, lit up in baby blues and white. A picture of Brant’s brother in his uniform stood on a small nightstand, a framed flag beside it and his dog tags stacked neatly next to the small shrine. The bed was a king, but only a half was unmade and it seemed like only half the room was cluttered. She scurried to pick up toys and clothes, apologizing as she threw them into their rightful places as quickly as she could.
“Sorry about the clutter, Landi was playing with her neighbor before she went next door and I went over to the cafe.”
“Why is it only half the room?”
“With our tiny apartment, to have Tean working with toys around him did not work out very well. We left a section of the room for him to work, since he died, we’ve kind of kept that half clean for him.”
“Tean was a very respectful man.”
“Indeed, and we’ve tried to keep that respect. Even Landi keeps from playing on his side of the room.”
Across the bedroom, a toddler bed had it’s own little corner. Purple and Blue showed a very bright children’s environment, toys scattering the rainbow rug beside the bed and a tiny dresser where colorful clothes strung out of the drawers and fell unto the floor. It was more like a hotel room as it didn’t really have separate rooms for privacy, it was merely a large open space with maybe one door for the bathroom.
Rohana approached another corner where the kitchen was, where she started cracking eggs into a pan. Brant took a seat at the modern table, running his finger across the smooth surface. Although the apartment was old, Rohana kept her apartment well updated, the walls freshly painted, the furniture new and clean, she seemed to take care of her home very nicely.
“How do you like your eggs?” She asked as Brant heard the sizzling of the egg on the pan.
“Scrambled please.”
Rohana worked at the eggs as Brant continued to observe the apartment. Although small, it was quite roomy and open with its several windows, brightening up the tiny apartment. He wouldn’t mind to live in such a homey place, even within the clutter, it all was pleasant.
Rohana placed a plate of eggs and toasted biscuits and he thanked her as he gratefully ate them, finally feeling satisfied as the pastry did not fill him up very much earlier. Halfway through his breakfast meal, a little girl opened the front baby blue door, a smile on her tiny face. Landi ran up to her mother, Rohana bending over as she hugged her daughter.
She released her mother and pulled out a wilted flower from her jacket pocket.
“Look what Rehi gave me! Isn’t it pretty?”
“It’s beautiful Landi.”
Landi laughed. She looked a lot like her mother, large electric blue eyes, curly blond hair that lied neatly on her narrow shoulders, but she had the face of her dad. Brant could recognize that face anywhere, she smiled like Tean, everything about her face seemed to remind Brant too much of his dead brother.
Although Brant didn’t notice when Landi turned her glance from her mother to directly at his face. It was a look of confusion, trying to see what was wrong. To her, the man standing in front of her looked almost just like her dad, but there was something different about him too.
She cocked her head.
“Dad?”
It hurt him to realize she thought maybe he was her dad. He wondered how much Rohana had told her young daughter? To have her seem so confused as if Brant was her father just crushed his soul. If only her real father was around for her to see again.
“I’m afraid not Landi, but I am your dad's brother.” Brant managed to say.
Rohana bent down and pointed at Brant.
“Landitha, this is uncle Brant.”
“Uncle?”
“Daddy’s brother.”
Landi approached Brant, observing him closer.
“Mommy says daddy has been missing, do you know where daddy went?”
There, Brant understood all that Rohana had told her daughter. She was too young to understand that he dad was dead, but at the same time, she needed to know. Landi was no older than four, but to Brant, it was old enough for her to know exactly what really happened to her father. He heaved a sigh, he wanted to tell her, but that was her mother's choice to find the time to tell her.
“I’m afraid not.”
A frown grew on the four year old girl's face and Brant could see the hurt in Rohana’s face as well. It hurt her just as much to realize she would have to soon tell her what really happened to Landi’s father.
Although, the disappointment in the little girl's face didn’t last long as she grew with excitement.
“Come play with me, Uncle brant!”
“Uncle Brant can’t play right now, he has to clean up. Maybe he can after.” Rohana told her daughter.
Once again the disappointment returned to the girl's face and she dragged her feet to her kitty corner, picking up a doll and playing with her hair.
Rohanna looked over at Brant with concern.
“I know I have to tell her eventually.”
“The time will come, at the moment though, maybe it would better off to keep it a secret.”
“What if that moment never comes? She could be ten years old and may still think he’s just missing.”
“It will have to be soon.” Brant said, looking over at Lindi on the floor with her toys, “well, I guess I better get cleaned up.”
“I’m not going to let you go out of my apartment until you are clean and well rested alright?” She asked sternly, but it was also teasingly, a grin on her face.
Brant held a thumbs up.
“As you wish, mother.” He teased back, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
He looked around at the simple full bathroom, realizing the last time he took a shower was at a public gym shower some several days ago. He was well paid, he could afford a house, food, hygiene, but he was moving around so often, he just kept a few dollars in his pocket and the rest was left in the bank. With cabs and train, by the time he arrived back in the city, he had only a couple of dollars. He was merely broke by the time he pulled out the remaining money for that simple pastry.
He spent several minutes in the bathroom, taking a refreshing shower, grooming his hair. Rohana had handed him a new set of new clean clothes and as Brant slipped them on, he felt somewhat uncomfortable. They fit perfectly, it wasn’t the fit that made him feel this way, it was the fact that they were his dead brother’s clothes. Tean wore these exact clothes all of the time, Brant couldn’t just decide to wear what his dead brother once wore.
Rohana looked nearly breathless, looking back when Tean wore that as Brant stepped out of the bathroom. She approached him, adjusting the collar of his button up. He could see the sorrow in her eyes as she saw the clothes her dead husband once wore. She heaved a sigh and patted his chest up by his shoulder.
“Thank you for giving me a change of clothes,” Brant said as he gazed down at the woman in front of him, “but if this is too much for you, I can just wear my original clothes and I can return these back to you right now.” Brant said, slipping on his brown leather jacket.
“Your clothes are already in the wash. Keep them. I needed to get rid of them anyway.”
Brant didn’t know what to say. He could see it in her eyes, but at the same time, it seemed like she enjoyed seeing someone wearing these clothes again. Brant adjusted his jacket over the baby blue button up that was once his brothers.
“You are too kind. Thank you for your hospitalization, Rohana, but I need to go see the general now. Maybe I’ll visit you when I return.”
Her face seemed to glow when Brant said those last words,“that would be wonderful. Good luck, Brant. And... please be safe. Protect that girl with your life, she deserves you.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter 14- Truth and Lies
Brant stepped out of the apartment, the satchel over his shoulder and a clean shaven face. The General would be in his naval office on the other end of the city, so he went down the street to the bank, grabbed a little more cash and caught a cab to the other side of the city.
It took about half an hour before the cab came to a stop in front of the plain but intimidating building. Although it was small, the brick was dark and stained, the windows held bars and a large, electric fence around the outskirts of the naval office. He heaved a sigh, entering through the barred doors to be approached by a security guard.
Brant showed the International Spy badge to the security guard without even stopping, continuing to walk down the hall where he went straight to General Khyro’s office. He barely gave a knock before entering into the office, swinging the door open. Inside, the office was dark, the desk large and intimidating in the yellow light. As for the chairs, they didn’t look any way comfortable, they were simple and metal, the chairs scattered in front of the desk from ongoing meetings throughout the day. The office was neat, but very boring, nothing but a lamp on the desk and a few chairs. Brant had been in this room hundreds of times, to him, he hated the cold draft room that had no feeling of welcome inside. He didn’t sit, he merely stood there in front of the desk, the General sitting at his desk with a pencil in hand.
General Khyro was not what to expect a general to be. He was quite thin, his face narrow with a pointed nose that could probably stab people if they got too close to it. He had oily brown hair that seemed to almost cover his eyes as it fell in a bowl cut around his oblong head, looking like it had never been washed for days. Although his looks were of surprise for a man such as the General, he was terrorizing. His eyes were stern underneath the tiny circular glasses and his thin lips didn’t seem to ever smile, let alone even show his yellowing crooked teeth underneath. When Brant entered, his face did not change, he just inhaled through his nose, straightening in his stiff chair.
“Sorry of my late arrival, I had some… obstacles.”
“Four days, Brant.” He said sternly.
“I’m sorry General.” He apologized again.
“You better have a better explanation of all of this to have obstacles that took you four days to do so.” His emotion had not changed since Brant entered, but inside, there was definite anger underneath that neutral face.
“To make long story short, General, there were terrorists at the hospital where I had to gather the files you asked for. To keep undercover, I was hidden away for those few days until it was clear enough.”
“Alright, so there was terrorists, expected. Why are you so clean shaven and nicely dressed then?”
“Before I arrived here, I stayed at my sister-in-laws over the night. She wouldn’t let me leave until I was cleaned up.” Brant said, knowing that part of truth was safe to tell.
General Khyro inhaled yet another large breath through his nose and leaned further back into his stiff leather chair.
“Good enough. Now tell me, Brant, what information do you have for me?”
Brant reached into his satchel and dumped the files on his desk. General Khyro didn’t seem to appreciate such a mess piled up on his clean desk, but it was what he needed. He opened up one of the files, searching through the papers inside for that specific person..
“I found about fifty files, most all of them should be most likely alive. They were on the side of the hospital where the bomb was not. Their records say they’re very strong in their field and we could probably recruit them as you thought.” Brant explained as the General moved on to another file.
“And what about Rohana?”
“She’s considering. She may be able to help us with what she knows, but she was never into combat… and she has a daughter.”
“Because of her husband, she knows much more information than probably any of us. After Tean’s death, all that information he gathered from the other side was lost. She may even know as much as General Westwood himself, but we don’t know. That’s why I want to recruit her.”
“I don’t know if she wants to get into this mess though. She struggled losing her husband, I’m not sure how much she would appreciate-”
Finally, the General returned his gaze back up at Brant, but they were stern and it brought a tiny shiver up his spine.
“Mess? You think we are in a mess? If you think we are in a mess, why don’t you just fix it? Recruiting Rohana will probably get us out of this so-called MESS!”
“General-”
“That’s enough, Lieutenant. I don’t care how much she will agree, we need her. I’ll throw her in a cell and torture it out of her if I need to, but we aren’t just going to forget about her and continue on.”
Brant nodded, knowing he shouldn’t argue from direct orders.
“Alright, I’ll talk to her some more.” Brant said.
“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear from you. I don’t doubt you one bit that you can get this done. Now what about Polei?”
Brant gulped, that was something he struggled to think back to, even if he had to change up the story for a bit. The General had known him for so long, lying was something he knew he would never do. This time, he had no other choice. He disobeyed his commands the first time, he didn’t want the General to know he didn’t again.
“The jeep was bombed. The two that were in there were seriously injured, I left them. And-”
“I heard the rest of it.” The General said, Brant’s heart stopping for a moment. Did Kiam tell him anyway, “Polei doesn’t dare leave the town, so we may have them like we wanted.”
“They also doubled the guards around.” Brant specified, grateful it had nothing to do with his lie.
“Yes, that would be expected. It’s been hard to fight when the other side has more men, but I think we have better weapons.”
Brant knew the General was trying to sound optimistic, but they hadn’t one many of the battles and it was obvious that their side was losing. General Khyro was a sore loser, he’d been trying to figure out how to win, but in order to know how to win, he needed to know what the other side did.
“So you’ve got Polei nearly stranded, you’ve got information from Rohana and possible recruiters from the hospital. I did what you ask me, now I’ve got something to tell you.”
General Khyro leaned forward, weaving his fingers together. His grey eyes shot into Brant’s, waiting for his response.
“Go on.”
“Well, I believe I may have found someone who can get the General to talk.”
Brant cringed as the General’s face turned dark in anger. The room seemed to get colder than it already was, the lamp seeming to dim as, what seemed like, dark clouds had formed in the room filled with the anger of the General. He slammed his hands flat on his desk and stood up, Brant jumping a bit, but trying to remain calm.
“Brant, there has been hundreds who have tried but failed! How can this other person persuade the general any more?!”
“She…” Brant gulped, trying to prevent his voice from trembling, “she is extremely persuasive, General. She is not intimidating, but how she talks, what she does, she can get anything out of anyone whether it is a General or not.”
The General sneered, sitting back down. The intensity in the room seemed to settle and Brant felt a tiny bit of relief come off his shoulders.
“I don’t believe you.”
“She did it on me, General. That’s how I know how good she is.”
The general gave it some thought, tapping his chin. He looked up at Brant.
“General Westwood is a stubborn man, I just want to kill him already, but I have to keep him alive. He has a secret, of how he won the battles but I don’t know how he did it. That’s all I want from him. Although, nobody can get it out of him.” General Khyro’s sharp eyes shot back to Brant, “Tell you what. You get the woman to persuade the general to speak, but if she will be like several others and not get anything out of him... then I’ll kill her.”
Brant nearly broke inside. He hesitated, standing there in his own thoughts. He promised her, yet he didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t want her to die just because he agreed to something she wasn’t even there for.
“I’ll need to talk to her.”
“Well, you believe in her, why do you hesitate?”
“I absolutely believe she can do it, I have no doubt about it. Although, because of the slight chances of not, I don’t want to see her death.”
“It seems she may be a bit more than just an acquaintance, Lieutenant. It could have been her Charasma that probably got to persuade you for all I know. A significant other perhaps?”
“Sir, she’s an Ingostle. She has no intention of love.”
“I don’t think it much matters though, Lieutenant. I have met and seen dozens of Ingostles and they are filled with Charisma, I don’t see her to be any different. I doubt General Westwood would comply by devotion of an attractive woman.”
“I have no intention of using her by her complexion. She’s unique, so don’t expect her to be like other Ingostles. Her form of persuasion was of a different style.”
General Khyro heaved a sigh, the veins on the side of his head pulsing as he considered.
“How long do you need before she comes to… persuade?”
“Well, I’ll first need to talk to her, but she needs a couple of weeks.”
“A couple of weeks?!” General Khryo shouted, slamming a single hand on his desk again.
“Indeed… the situation is complicated.”
“Either she does it now or never.”
“She’s unable to do it now.”
“Than a week.”
“Only a week?”
“Nothing longer you hear? If there is no way, I guess it’s not meant to be.”
Brant heaved a sigh.
“A week then.”
“Good. As for the information you gathered from Rohana, I’d like to talk in a more private place. Later today in the private room. Five, how does that sound?”
“Anytime works for me. Five is fine.”
“See you at five then.”
Brant didn’t much appreciate talking about Rohana so privately. It was more of what to do about her than what she said. He despised the fact that he had to return back to her apartment to talk to her about this. To recruit her because of all she knew. Tean was a spy like Brant, an air force spy specifically. Occasionally they would partner up as both had their own knowledge of both the air and ground. He was with Tean when he was killed, the mission that changed Brant. That was the time when he officially decided to no longer kill any more people. So many people died that night including his brother. Tean was four years older than Brant, yet he seemed to know twenty years worth of information compared to Brant. That was why Rohana was so important, she would know what Tean would know, as he had promised to her to tell her everything when they eloped five years ago.
As Brant left the Private room and stepped out into the street. He had just called for a cab a few minutes earlier, so he would wait for it and return to Rohana’s apartment. He wasn’t going to return back to the hospital until he spoke with his sister-in-law. No matter how much he wanted to, he needed to follow the orders directly from his General. He just hoped Mella was recovering alright.
When the cab arrived, Brant adjusted his empty satchel on his shoulder and set off again out to Rohana’s.
When he knocked at their door, Rohana took a moment to open the door. She was smothered in tears, her hand clutching on her cell phone.
Something was wrong.
Brant shut the door, entering her tiny home.
“Rohana, is something the matter?”
Rohana burst into more tears as she sat down at her square table.
“I knew it was going to be hard, but who would have thought a four year old would do that?”
Brant, with deep concern sat down across from her, holding her hands.
“Where’s Landitha?”
Rohana screamed, slamming her phone on the table and digging her face in her hands.
“I told her Brant. I told her that her father was dead, that he was never missing. I finally told her that he wouldn’t be coming home, ever, because he was gone. It hurt me to see that face, especially to see that face on such a young child. Even if I waited, it wouldn’t have mattered, she would have reacted just the same. At first, it was just tears of disbelief, but I kept telling her that it was a truth and she threw a fit. She sat on the ground and screamed for her dad, but I had to tell her in my own tears that he was gone. I needed the restroom to release the tears, so I ran into the bathroom and shut the door. I was only in there for just a moment before I stepped out… and she was gone. She ran off, right out the door.”
“Why haven’t you gone looking for her?” Brant asked.
“Because I don’t know where she went. I checked our neighbors, I checked the entire apartment. I checked the backyard, I checked the playground, I checked the street. Nowhere. I called the police and they’ve been looking for her all day… Brant, I don’t know what to do. She’s missing, my only daughter is missing only because I told her the terrible truth.”
Brant shot up to his feet.
“For goodness sake, Rohana, she’s four. She wouldn’t have gone far. What are other places that she’s been that you haven’t checked?”
Rohana shook her head, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.
“I’ve checked everywhere Brant.”
Brant clenched his fist, she was only four years old, why would she run off like that. Though as it went silent with Rohana’s quiet weeping and the silence of the missing child, he did hear something.
“Did you check anywhere inside the apartment?”
“What?”
Brant turned his head to the upset mother.
“What made you think she ran out the door?”
“The door was open.”
Brant held her shoulders.
“Did you check any of the room?”
“Ah… no, I darted out the door as soon as I saw it open. I knew she had ran out.”
Brant released her shoulders and approached the closet next to Rohana’s bed, swinging open the tiny door. At first Rohana wasn’t sure, but she could hear the tiny quiet breaths of the sleeping girl behind the clothes, her little four-year old bare feet sticking out from the long dress and coats that hung to the floor.
“Oh heavens.” She cried in relief, running over to her daughter, falling to her knees as she pushed the clothes out of the way.
There she was, sleeping with her flushed face covered in dried tears, her body curled up inside the closet. She reached over and picked her daughter up, carrying her over to her bed and tucking the blanket over her slumbering body.
Rohana, now in tears of relief, turned to Brant.
“How did you know?”
“I have an ear for listening to certain things. Although quiet, I could hear her breathing inside the closet. Rohana, I don’t think she opened the door. I noticed as I left that the door doesn’t like to stay closed. I must have not closed hard enough when I left this morning, that was my fault in that end. As for your daughter. It’s not natural for a four year old to run out the door as far as she can. A child as young as she would hide when she’s upset.”
“I swear she ran out the door.”
“She was in the apartment the entire time.”
“I’m so grateful she was here the whole time!”
Rohana wrapped her arms around her brother in-law, crying in his shoulder. She needed some form of comfort and Brant accepted it. Holding her close as she wept
He stayed at Rohana’s that night, sleeping on her couch. He would wait and talk to her in the morning about why he was really there, but he knew that night wasn’t the right time.
He slept the best he had ever slept in days on that couch. It wasn’t an expensive couch, but for some reason, with all of his nights in a sleeping bag and nights on hard surfaces, the couch was like a luxury bed. When he woke up the next day, he was greeted with a fresh smell of hotcakes and milk. He sat at the table, Rohana silent as she ate her breakfast. Landi didn’t seem overly upset, but her night of tears left an aftermath of grogginess as she ate away at her hotcake. Maybe she had forgotten what she had heard last night.
That thought had vanished quickly when Landi burst into tears again. She didn’t scream this time, but she started to whimper.
“Daddy’s dead.” She cried.
Rohana had froze up, sitting there not even moving. She just stared at her daughter, unsure if this sorrow would ever end. She gazed down at her food and placed her fork on her plate. Rohana shot up to her feet and gathered up the dishes even though Brant wasn’t finished eating his and left to the kitchen.
Brant patted Landi on the back.
“Why don’t we go play, I can read you a book.”
Landi shook her head.
“I don’t want to read a book.”
“What about… playing with your dolls or playing house.”
Landi looked up at Brant,
“I don’t want to play house.”
“What about dolls?”
She shook her head again.
“I want to play with daddy!”
“Landi.” Rohana managed to say, struggling herself from breaking into more tears. She herself was increasingly groggy and everything seemed to upset her, “why don’t you and uncle Brant go and get the mail for mommy.”
Landi sniffed.
“Okay.” She hopped off her chair and held Brant’s hand as they left the apartment door.
The PO box was just across the street, shared with another apartment next door. Landi seemed to know which one was theirs as she approached A14, holding the keys her mother had handed her. She gazed up at Brant, placing the keys in his hand.
“Why don’t you open it?”
“Because I don’t know how to.”
Brant knelt down,
“Then I’ll show you.”
He placed the key back in her little hand and guided the key to the slot in the box. She was still holding the key, but he held her hand as they turned the key together and pulled open the door. Inside, there was maybe a single envelope that was probably just trash and a roll of newspaper. Landi held the tiny bit of mail and they went together back to room 14 in the old white apartment.
Landi seemed to brighten up just a tiny bit as she handed her mother the mail, but she could still see the disappointment in her face. She was still thinking about her dad. Rohana turned to Brant, hoping the mail would get it off her mind, but it didn’t seem to be working and Landi broke into tears again.
“She’ll get over it, Rohana. She just needs a little bit.” Brant tried.
“I can’t handle her like this now. I don’t know what to do.”
Brant sighed, rubbing the child's blond head.
“Find something to get her mind off.”
“Like what?” Rohana asked.
Brant shrugged his shoulders, “like maybe take her on a little adventure.”
Rohana gazed back down at her daughter and a tiny laugh came out of her mouth. She returned back to Brant.
“Brant, an adventure? Where can I take a four year old on an adventure?”
“Not I, Rohana, we are going on an adventure.”
“Don’t you have that Ingostle girl waiting for you though?”
“She’s being well taken care of. I told her I would return in a few days. I want to help you right now.”
“Where would we go then?” Rohana asked.
“I was thinking maybe… ice cream and a fair.”
“And what fairs would we have in Rumbeig?” Rohana asked with her arms folded.
“Well, I know there is one in Ghotto.”
“That’s half an hour away.”
“I’ll play for gas.” Brant said with a grin.”
The first place they went to was an old ice cream shot on the edge of town. As a child, Brant went there with his friends all of the time. Now it wasn’t so popular, as it was so close to where they bombed Rumbeig a couple of years ago. When they entered the ice cream shop, Landi grew with excitement as she saw the different flavors and chose the most colorful one of the options.
“I want that, mommy!”
With a joyful smile on the cashier’s face, he served Landi a giant cone that seemed larger than she and she held it with utter glee in her little hands. They sat at a table by a large window, a perfect view of the memorial of the bombing. It wasn’t the best spot, but Landi didn’t seem to care about the view as her perspective was mostly on her giant mound of ice cream in her hands.
“Thank you for doing this for her.” Rohana said as she took her last bite of frozen banana yogurt in her cup.
“I didn’t want your daughter to be sad any more, but what I wanted to see more was to see you smile.”
Rohana’s eyes sparkled as she looked over at him, a smile growing on her face.
When they left the ice cream shop, they took a bus to Ghotto. As it drove down the main street of the smaller city, Landi grew with excitement as she saw the fair.
“Mommy, look! Look at the animals!” She screamed, pointing at the merry-go-round in the center of the entire fair.
That was where they went first, Landi riding on a bear as it went around in circles. Brant and Rohana sat in a bench behind her, cheering for her as she screamed of joy on her bouncing bear. Brant was happy to see Rohana smile for once, looking at her gleeful daughter. For once, she had a moment where she herself was happy. As the song continued on and the merry-go-round kept circling, Rohana placed her head on his shoulder, sighing in the relief.
Once that ride was over, all Landi wanted to do was to play. One stand had a bucket of rubber duckies and depending on the number Landi would choose, she would get a certain size of stuffed animal. Brant paid two tickets and Landi quickly picked a fuchsia rubber ducky, growing with excitement as she saw a number on the bottom. Although she had no idea what the number meant, when the Lady there handed her a plush bright pink duck, she screamed with more joy.
As night came, they returned home excited and exhausted. Landi had fallen asleep in the cab and Brant carried her to her bed, holding her duck close as he tucked her under the covers.
“Thank you again Brant, I have never been this happy for a long time. It definitely helped Landi so much.”
“It looked like the experiment worked on you too.” Brant said.
“I guess I needed that. But why, Brant, why would you spend all day with me just for that? I understand you wanted to make me happy, but there is more to this than what the eye can see.”
Brant heaved a sigh, sitting on the arm of her couch.
“Well… I talked to the General.”
“And?”
“He ah… he needs you to meet with him.”
“To recruit me right?” She said, her joy bringing down to disappointment.
“Well… yes, that’s exactly why. Because of Tean, you know so much valuable information. We need to win this war, but with how this war is going so far, it doesn’t sound like we’re going to even get close to winning.”
“I have no intention in being part of the war, Brant. I got myself into it and it got my husband killed. We’ve already had this conversation, why would you think I would change my mind?”
“Don’t you want this war to end? For us to win?”
“Of course, but I think General Khyro can do it without me.”
“Tean was a wonderful spy, he knew so much that I knew he told you. You have all the information that maybe Tean didn’t get to us.”
“You don’t know that. All that he told me was what he told the General. Like I said, Brant, I don’t want to be in any part of this. You probably have everything you need, I don’t want to be recruited.”
Brant, in distress, ran his fingers through his brown hair and returned his gaze back at Rohana.
“Alright, let me rephrase this. So far, one of the very few battles we’ve won, Tean was the one who led them. You know Tean better than the rest of us, how did he do it? The General wants you to show his men how Tean did it.”
Rohana still shook her head.
“Brant, you’ve known Tean longer than I, why don’t you tell him?”
“Because he didn’t get into power until we were adults. Although I’ve partnered up with him, I don’t even know how he did it. I’m sure you probably do.”
“Of course I do, but I’m not going to lead men into battle. That’s ridiculous and… and I’ve got a daughter.”
“I understand, but the General won’t let me go anywhere until you agree.”
“So that’s what this was all about? Make my day to ruin it by the end huh?”
Brant stood up.
“No, that was never the intention.”
“Than what was it?”
“I wanted to gain your trust.”
There was a moment of silence as Rohana stared at him in disbelief. She looked away from him, walking around the counter as she held the back of her neck with both her hands.
“Alright, I’ll tell the General everything Tean told me and how he won the war, but I am not going to lead it. He will know everything I know, but I will not get recruited you hear?” She snapped.
“Understood.”
She nodded.
“Well, I’m going to get ready for bed. If you have anything else to talk to me about, talk about it in the morning.”
“I’ll report to the general in the morning as well.”
Rohana gave a firm nod and marched off into the bathroom, taking a shower before she set off to bed.
Brant would take one in the morning. With no pajamas, he wrapped a blanket around himself and fell asleep before Rohana had even stepped out of the bathroom.
As morning came, Landi was up and running, playing with her toys with a big smile on her face. Rohana seemed more on the brighter side as well, even if she did have to talk to the General. Brant couldn’t stay long, he left once he ate and changed again. He ran out the door clutching his leather jacket, making sure he fully closed the door before he left the apartment room.
He took a cab to the General's office, once again entering his cold drafty room. General Khyro was pleased to see Brant returning to him, but Brant wasn’t overly thrilled of telling him the change of plans.
He made it short, getting to the point of what Rohana wants. It would still help the General, but she wasn’t going to get recruited into it. The General’s pleasure seemed to vanish by the end, but he seemed okay that Rohana at least agreed on telling him everything. It was better than nothing.
The meeting was not long, all Brant wanted to do was to return back to Mella. He felt like he was too long already and part of it was the delay of taking them to the fair, but that wasn’t for pleasure, it was to help Rohana and her daughter and also gain her trust before committing her into this war mess.
The General wanted to meet up with Rohana as soon as possible, so Brant called her to let her know. She thanked him and Brant left, taking another cab to the train.
He took the first train that arrived and took the couple of hours to the hospital, where he walked the three quarters of a mile to the tent. Anxiety filled his gut of the unknowns. Was Mella okay? Was the recovering or was she worse? So many questions filled his head as he approached the flap of the tent. Neither Tryker or Hei were outside of the tent, so he could only assume they were in the tent or inside the hospital.
He opened the flap, hoping to see Mella, but neither of the three were in there. In panic, he rushed back out.
“Mella!!!!!” he screamed, not even hesitating to call out for the hurt girls name.
He rushed over to the hospital, hearing everything in silence inside the dusty abandoned building.
“Cromella!” When Brant realized he wasn’t able to get Mella, he called for Tryker or Hei, but he heard nothing through his keen ears.
Would they all be in a better room than the tent? They wouldn’t let Mella in the hospital though, she would have had to either stay in the tent or around it. Brant searched around to the other rooms and even the bombed area, but there was still neither Tryker, Hei or Cromella.
When he continued to hear silence, anger started to build up. Where did they go? Not only that, what did they do with Mella?
“You traitors!!” He screamed, running through the halls knocking whatever was in his way as he stormed down in anger, “I’m going to kill both of you!”
Brant continued to search, but he knew he would never find her, they had taken her elsewhere and they didn’t even tell him let alone even leave some form of message. Brant fell down, slamming his fists on the ash covered hall floors.
“Traitors!” He cried again.
As the silence returned again, he started to hear coughing. He looked ahead at the front doors and saw one opened with a figure standing beside it. He was nearly out of breath himself when he realized who was approaching him.
“Brant. What is wrong?” Mella asked, coughing again as she walked towards the distressed man.
Brant shot up to his feet, running towards her without any more hesitation, wrapping his arms around her. The comfort to have Mella in his arms was all he wanted over the last several days.
“Mella, are you alright? I couldn’t find you, I thought they had taken you, I thought they had-”
“Brant.” Mella said, looking at him, although she still looked sick, she seemed somewhat better amidst her coughing. A bit of color had returned to her face and it seemed her fever had died down if not left her.
“Where is Tryker and Hei?”
“Well, that’s what I need to tell you, Brant. They overstayed their stay. Tryker was forced to leave last night for another mission and of course he had to bring his partner. They apologized and hoped you would return in the morning.”
“So they left you?” Brant asked still angry at this terrible excuse.
He placed his hand on her forehead. Her fever was low, but she still had one.
“Why aren’t you in bed?” Brant added.
“Brant-” she coughed again, “calm down. Hei could have stayed, but he was seriously needed so I insisted. Don’t blame it on them, Brant. They did not hurt me, it was an emergency of their own.”
Brant led Mella back out of the hospital, escorting her back to the tent.
“Why weren’t you in the tent?” Brant asked again as he opened the flap and helped her lie back down.
“I had to take a walk, I’ve been stuck inside a stuffy tent over the last several days, I had to get some fresh air. Then I saw you enter the hospital, so I went after you.”
“You should have stayed in the tent.” Brant said compulsively, but he wasn’t trying to shout it out to her.
“I’m sorry. It was,” she started another coughing fit, wincing at the pain every cough would make, “stupid of me, but my body told me I needed to.”
Brant shook his head. With all that had happened was upsetting, he didn’t want Mella to get worse either. He would usually be okay for her to take a walk, it was more the fact the Tryker and Hei left. He struggled to forgive them of such an excuse. If they thought he was going to return in the morning, they should have stayed until then to make sure Mella was alright.
“Well, I’m glad you're not hurt any more than you are. You seem somewhat better, how are you feeling?”
“Still sick, but Hei believes I’ll be alright in about a week?”
“At the minimum?” Brant asked, thinking of the General.
“I don’t know. It could be sooner, it could be later-” once again, Mella fell into another coughing fit, tears streaming from her eyes as the pain was too much with the forced coughs.
The fit continued and Brant started to get into panic. He needed to find something. She started to cough so hard, she struggled to breathe again. Brant reached over and grabbed the breathing mask, fixing it over her face and allowing her oxygen. She continued to cough, but it started to die down. He adjusted the pillows, resting her against them.
“I need… the painkillers.” Mella managed to say, trying to gasp for more air.
She held the oxygen mask while Brant searched in the bag Hei had left, snatching the bottle of painkillers.
There was only five left, he knew they wouldn’t last long enough, but while she was still recovering, he would use the rest of them. He handed her one with his canteen of water and she swallowed it. Although it would take a few minutes to kick in, she started to settle in her coughing fits and soon, she was resting again.
Brant took a deep breath. He couldn’t really explain all that happened. It was still morning yet it still felt very long already. He was alone to take care of her now, but luckily Hei left him some things to help him while she was on her recovering process. He knew he just had to do whatever he could to keep her on that path of recovery and prevent anything that would make it worse.
As Mella slept, Brant heaved another sigh and lied down next to her. He ended up taking a nap of his own, grateful that he had her safe with him again.
Chapter 15- Victim
Lady Lidiac couldn’t help herself. She had to hide somewhere and cry. She refused to tell Lady Amalla, but the news ran through the country quickly and probably throughout the entire world. Lady Amalla had probably long found out and her mother as well, it hurt the Ingostle to realize all that had happened and to realize Mella’s close ones knew and were more likely just as hurt. Mella was more likely dead, Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie merely just searching for a dead body.
Lady Lidiac darted over to a corner of one of the recently abandoned houses and wept, taking her handkerchief and wiping off all of the make-up. She no longer cared. This trip was supposed to be a blessing, a charity service, yet here they were, still helping, but chaos had happened and it fell apart with some unnecessary sacrifices.
Lady Mella was dead, the Empress was sure of it.
She wept for several minutes until she heard a shrill scream from around the house. At first, she ignored it, her mind telling her it wasn’t her problem. She continue to weep, her arms on her knees as she sat against the wall of the house.
Then, by the corner of her eye, she spotted a flicker of orange light from amidst the grey atmosphere. She turned her head for a better view and saw a house near her in flames. The grey sky and the lowering sun made it difficult to see their faces, but she could see the black silhouettes of the townspeople, running in panic from the people who caused the fire.
She immediately stood up, dropping her handkerchief as she ran out from around the house. There she saw them, the soldiers in black, running the streets with guns. She wasn’t sure what else to do. They were throwing torches into houses, grabbing a hold of townspeople and pulling them away. Covered trucks waited for the soldiers as they threw the refugees in, then run back out to snatch more. For a moment, she just stood there frozen, in panic and confusion.
“Serenity!!!” A voice screamed.
Lady Lidiac hadn’t heard her first name for so long she could barely recognize it herself. As soon as she realized someone was calling for her, she whipped her head to where she heard it. It was one of her own Ingostles. She probably didn’t have enough time to blot out the long name of Lady Lidiac, so they called her first name in desperation, a soldier holding the Ingostles arms down. The young Ingostle looked at Lady Lidiac in desperation.
“Serenity help!!!!!” She screamed again, but it was merely showing there was another just standing there waiting to be taken. An Empress in specific.
Another soldier was attracted to the call for help and immediately saw Lady Lidiac. He then broke into a run and that was when Lady Lidiac got out of her frozen self. In panic, she tore off her shoes and darted, but the tail of her dress caught on a sprinkler head and she tripped. It didn’t stop her though, she ripped it off the sprinkler and continuing to bolt around the house. She reached the back door, trying to open it, but it was locked. She tried several quick attempts to wrench it open and as she realized there was no way to get inside, she continued to run, picking up her train as she ran around the yard and into the next houses yard. She could hear him behind, catching up to her, he was barely panting, his feet hitting the solid short cut grass in thumps just thirty feet behind her. She had barely grasped the handle of the next back door until she heard a gunshot and pain shot through her left ankle.
Lady Lidiac squeaked, falling against the door. She looked behind her, the soldier was some twenty feet behind her now. Refraining from using her left foot, she swung open the unlocked back door and rushed in, locking the door with trembling hands. Just then, she heard the soldiers fists slam as he pounded on the door, losing the chase. Her ears were ringing, everything so confusing. She tried to ignore the pain increasing in her ankle and as fast as she possibly could, Lady Lidiac limped her way to the front door. It seemed so far away as she used walls to support her way towards the door, rushing to lock it. She came too late, for right before she could lock it, the door swung open and the man was right there, holding it point blank to Lady Lidiac’s chest.
She toppled over, falling on her butt as she gazed up at the soldier in the living room of the deserted home. Her chest rose up and down pacing quicker and quicker as he held the gun down to her, his eyes so dark and determined.
“No more running Ingost Lady.” The soldier growled.
Lady Lidiac slid up the wall, holding her bleeding foot out as she leaned up against the wall. Without notice, she snatched the lamp next to her, yanking out the cord and swung it right to his head. The soldier had no time to react and he toppled over unconscious in front of her, the lamp shattered next to him with his forehead bleeding. It probably had glass shards in his head but she didn’t care.
The Empress straightened, she couldn’t hide and she couldn’t run, as she was in a very red dress that had a train perfect for tripping and holding her back. She came to Polei to save the people, not to cower from them. She gazed back down at the unconscious body underneath her and she looked up at the ceiling.
“Oh Edda, please forgive me.” She cried, she then reached down and dragged the soldier into a bedroom just around the corner.
With a trembling and shocked body, she unbuttoned his uniform and pulled it off of his body, taking everything but his underclothes. Although the blinds were surely closed, she could see the flames from between the cracks and gunshots rang with screams and cries. Lady Lidiac was too shocked to cry herself, but everything she heard just made her heart sink.
She hastily undressed herself, the summer air feeling cold through her shivering body. Luckily, the soldier was thin and just a little taller than she, giving her a uniform that mostly fit her. As she slipped it on, she tore off her hat and took out her bun, retying her light brown hair into a simple ponytail where she tucked it under her uniform coat. The coat was warm and much larger than her form fitting dress, but she didn’t much care how pretty she looked. Luckily she had taken off her paint after her crying session and her face was without much make-up, a female soldier. That was who she was going to be that day.
With the helmet left, Lady Lidiac hooked the strap around her slender jaw and dragged the unconscious man into a closet. Luckily, this closet locked on the outside, so she quickly locked it and grabbed a chair, shoving it under the knob.
With a heavy sigh, Lady Lidiac, still trembling although warmer, limped out of the house, the gun held in her hands. She would not shoot, but it not only gave her a sense of security, it also showed less suspicion for a soldier holding a gun.
She had barely been in the house for ten minutes, yet those left were either dead or other soldiers dragged them away. She stood outside of the door, feeling awkward and increasingly uncomfortable. Flames danced in the air, those injured dragging themselves across the ground or lying still. Other soldiers dragged those injured and took them away, leaving those lifeless on the streets. She felt nauseous, her head spinning as she gazed at the horrific sight. One was trying to retrieve two of the townspeople at the same time, struggling to keep them both down.
“Soldier, help me here!” He called, trying to restrain one.
Lady Lidiac, confused and unsure what else to do but to follow orders, ran over with her pained ankle and snatched the escaping second Polei person. She grabbed her arms, unsure what else to do from there.
“Let go of me!” She screamed, trying to jerk from Lady Lidiacs grasp.
It surprised Lady Lidiac what she could do as she gripped her wrists. A tarped truck had drove over with at least thirty of the townspeople inside, sitting there in panic and distress. The other soldier threw the one he had inside and Lady Lidiac, with no other choice, shoved the woman inside, trying to be graceful as to not hurt her. She wanted to help her instead of take her away, but she had no other choice. The other soldier jumped in and took a seat on the edge of the bench, then he leaned forward with his hand out to help Lady Lidiac. She took his hand without thought and he hoisted her up into the truck. There, another soldier closed the tailgate and she was inside, feeling like the refugees, but to the others, she was the soldier instead of the victim.
The truck started off again and Lady Lidiac sat there still in shock, speechless as she sat on the edge right across from the Khyro soldier. Inside, it was loud in screams and cries, several either refusing to look at her or glare at her as they drove on. One shot to her feet and started pounding on the tarp in panic.
“Get me out of here!” She screamed, but it was strained as if she hadn’t stopped screaming since they took her.
“Shut up!” The soldier barked, but then he turned to Lady Lidiac, “I didn’t catch your name.” The soldier added, taking this too casually for having just taken an entire town in less than an hour.
“Serenity.” Lady Lidiac responded, feeling weird to having to introduce herself by her first name instead of the name she had known for so long. She had to almost shout her name across the shouts and screams inside. She wouldn’t let a Khyro soldier know she was an Ingostle.
“Nice to meet you Serenity, I’m Syn.” The soldier said, gazing out the tiny openings between the tarp and the walls of the truck, watching the dirt road pass in the blur behind.
Lady Lidiac had no intention of conversation so she didn’t continue it, gazing down at her hands. She felt so uncomfortable, so confused. Everything had happened in a blur and she was left disguising as a soldier, unsure if this would even work out once she arrived. Her head was still spinning and she wanted to puke, but she just tried to take in deep breaths, refraining from passing out or throwing up. She was too afraid to puke.There was female soldiers everywhere, that wasn’t the part that made her nervous, it was the hope that none of the townspeople would point her out.
“I saw you limping when you helped me retrieve the last of the Polei people. Did you get shot?” Syn asked, as he wanted a conversation to keep his sanity from the cries of pain he was sitting in.
“An old wound, not a big deal.” Lady Lidiac said, still gazing down at her knees.
“The General would never let you go out if you were limping from an old wound. It happened today.”
Lady Lidiac finally looked up at Syn.
“Alright, yes, it happened today. I got shot in the ankle by accident from another one of the soldiers. I’ll be alright though.”
“We should be arriving in the next hour or so, how bad is it?”
Lady Lidiac shook her head.
“I told you, it’s fine. I’ll be alright.”
“Can I have a look at it?”
Lady Lidiac looked at the others in there, angry and begging eyes still gazing at her in disbelief. She shot her glance back at Syn.
“No, not in here. I’ll be fine until we arrive alright?”
Syn shook his head.
“Alright, but if it gets worse, it’s on you.” He explained.
Lady Lidiac didn’t want to talk to him, she wanted to be alone, but she wanted to save them. It was crammed and hot in there, the evening striking giving an eerie darkness inside. Although, with every one of their shoulders pressed tightly against each other, they all avoided touching Lady Lidiac, squishing tighter with others to keep from getting into the soldier's space. They were afraid and intimidated and Lady Lidiac didn't want to be intimidating. She wanted to help them, take them now to the safe city where there wouldn’t be raids, wars to get involved in. She knew the one that was supposed to take her place was probably just waking up with a terrible headache, half naked and locked in a closet in Polei. He would have handled this in a much more terrible way, she could see it in his eyes. If he was sitting where she was, he wouldn’t be sitting there in silence trying to contain his sanity.
She wanted to cry more, but Lady Lidiac kept her composure, stiffening up and taking a large intake through her nose. The cries of fear had died down, but the atmosphere was sticky and terrible. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead everyone desperate to get out of the living Hell in the back of a large military truck.
Lady Lidiac kept thinking of the other Ingostles. Where were they? They were probably in a different truck being taken to the same place, but to see them, so defeated and exhausted. It hurt Lady Lidiac that her girls were treated just like the others in this truck, it was painful to know all that had happened so quickly, so terribly.
Although, out of everything, that was why she took that soldiers uniform, that was why she was sitting in there. She was going to save not only her Ingostle girls, but every one of the Townspeople taken.
She took another intake of air, staring straight ahead as the truck continued it’s bumpy ride down the road.
“I can do this.” She whispered as the night continued on.
Chapter 16- Reunited
Mella was grateful Brant had returned. She had spent all those days worrying about him, wondering when he would come back. Hei was a good doctor, but she wanted Brant. When Tryker had explained about leaving, she was deeply upset, but it seemed urgent enough. Hei insisted himself to stay and take care of her and Tryker actually let Hei make his choice of whether to stay with Mella or to come with him. That was when Melle told Hei to go with Tryker. She knew what to do to take care of herself. Of course Hei was concerned that if something went wrong, nobody would be there to save her, but Tryker assumed Brant would be coming soon.
That was when Hei left with Tryker, leaving Mella alone overnight until Brant returned late that morning. Mella couldn’t explain in words how excited she was to see Brant, to have someone there for her, the man she had longed to see while he was away.
Now that Brant was back, all she wanted to hear now was what Brant would say about her and her father.
“Mella, he’s willing to let you talk to him, but like we planned, you have to get your dad to speak.” Brant began when Mella asked him about what they discussed, “General Khyro has had dozens of others try to speak with him and not a word will come out. He will do anything to get those words out, but he’s had so many, he said… he said he would kill you if you didn’t get him to talk.”
Mella shook her head.
“My dad wouldn’t let me die like that.”
“Well, you see, I hate to admit this, but the other side is winning. It always wins and that’s why General Khyo wants to know how your father does it. Although, if your father does, it’s not going to do much for our side. Our side would have to change whatever we had been doing for years to fight them. Whether we found out how the General does it or not, it will probably do us no good anyway.”
“Then why doesn’t he just tell you if he knows it will do your side no good?”
“It’s showing weakness, it’s not what he will say that will lose him, it’s giving in. Giving in is a weakness, doing this Mella, he’ll be forced to give in, he wouldn’t want you killed. You are taking chances, you are giving our side an advantage to force your father to give in. Give in from his own daughter that the General threatened to kill if he didn’t comply. It’s just a large game of risk.”
“I have to see my dad.” Mella said sternly, determined to finish what she came to this country in the first place for.
“Because of the success of the other side, this war may be over in the next few months. General Khyro knows that, that’s why he's been trying to do whatever he can to recruit more, to find out how they’re winning on the other side. That’s also why he’s trying to take Polei. He believes it a strength to take land, to draft as many men as possible, to capture General Westwood.”
“So if my side is already winning, what’s the difference if the general gives in? It’s not going to weaken him much when you guys lose anyway.”
“It’s your choice Mella on whether you want to continue this or not.”
“I want to see my dad.” She cried.
“If that’s what you want to do, then let’s do it. I’m not going to argue you about anything, whatever choice you are going to make, I’ll respect whatever you choose.”
Mella nodded, she wasn’t going to change her mind.
The week had gone by slowly and cautiously, taking it easy to help Mella’s recovering body. Mella was recovering very wonderfully, her pneumonia passing and her body in its continual path of healing. Although her ribs were still broken and she still had a cough, her face had color and she could breathe better.
“So I let him know you are an Ingostle. Before we left the Ingostle church, Lady Truly gave me a small package of makeup, so we’ll use that for this.” Brant explained as he packed away the things inside the tent.
“Great, and for safety, I also have something else.”
Mella had almost forgotten about it, but at the same time, she knew it was there, tucked under her girdle where it couldn’t be seen. She was hoping to never use it, but in times of fear, the thought of it hidden under her dress gave her some sense of security.
Mella reached under her dress, slipping out the knife from it’s position. She unsheathed it to reveal a very sharp glimmering blade in her hand, surprising Brant. that she even had something hidden under that innocent dress. Although it was small and merely fit in the palm off her hand, it seemed to pierce the air with it’s tiny needle point end. Brant gazed at it questioningly and in awe, trying to understand what he was seeing.
“I didn’t even know you had that.”
“A friend gave it to me before I left. I hope to never use it, but it kind of gives me security tucked away in my girdle.”
“That's great that you've had that for security, but that’s not just an ordinary knife, Mella. Those are rare. Murderers search everywhere for that kind of weapon, yet you have one in your very hand. They’re very lethal.”
“Why would this tiny thing be so lethal?”
“See how sharp it is? If punctured in the right spot, it could pierce an artery easily, it could shatter bones, seriously injure organs. It’s just long enough to seriously hurt, but small enough to legally carry.”
“Well, if I have to use it, I will use it wisely.”
“Use it carefully.”
Mella placed it back in the sheath, returning it to it’s original spot.
“Thus why I use it for security, now let's go, you can’t be late again for the general.”
*************************
The room was dark, but whimpers from the dozens inside was terrifying. Everyone sat on the floor, forced on their knees, free from any chains or ropes. They still contained themselves, remaining in one spot frozen in fear. For those who survived were about an estimate of a hundred and fifty townspeople. The rest were either killed, had returned safely from Polei in the past or was lying on the ground in Polei injured unsure what had just happened.
Inside the solid cement room, all the soldiers who had taken them captive stood in a line against the wall, guns holstered and rested at their arms. There was at least twenty of them, standing in salute with their stern eyes not even gazing down at the confused terrified townspeople of Polei. The man that was supposed to be in lady Lidiacs place was probably walking around Polei stranded, trying to find a way to return back to his base while Lady Lidiac stood in his place. All ways of contact had been disabled and she took his HAM radio, leaving the man stranded with no way of communicating.
So far, there had been no suspicions, they had just been expecting her to stand in salute to guard the people of Polei and she didn’t know what was to happen next.
She had been standing there for three days and her legs begged to rest. The townspeople had been sitting there starving and Lady Lidiac was desperate to find them help and get them food. She wanted to talk to someone like Lyn next to her, but even he stood quiet and stern, staring into nothing. Although, within all the weeping and waiting, Lady Lidiac could hear something from behind the door. Some of the people of Polei looked up, straining their ears to listen and Lady Lidiac was desperate to move.
“Attention on the General!” The head of the soldiers ordered.
Instantaneously, every single one of the soldiers shifted in a straight line and made an opening to the door. There, the Major of the soldiers reached over for the handle and opened it.
There he stood, the man they all feared. His stern grey eyes seemed to show up first, then the rest of his thin body as he entered the room, two other security guards in salute directly behind him. He stepped inside until he stood at the end of the line of soldiers, gazing down at the trembling townspeople. The women held their children close, the men straightening trying to keep their composure.
“The people of Polei.” The General said expressionless, “I’ve been trying to take you from General Westwood since the beginning of this war. I’m not sure if you all know why we took you. I need more soldiers for war. I will take all men and women in here, if you are older than sixteen, you count as a man. As for the children… we’ll take care of them while you’re gone.”
Lady Lidiac was hoping for an uproar, but they were all too afraid to speak up. They all just trembled, lost in defeat as they gazed up at the General.
“I wish I would have gotten more men to fight with, but I will do what I have. Tomorrow, every single one of you will be either training for war or in a long term nursery until this war is over. The training will be short, at the most a week, then I will send you all out in your uniform and you will fight for me. If any of you deceive me, I’ll kill you and your children will be left orphaned. I will make your life a living hell if I have to, so listen to me and cooperate, then maybe this war will end soon and you’ll reunite with your families.”
The General looked at each person in the room, but then his eyes focused on the red clump of dresses in the corner. The twelve Ingostles sat on the ground, sitting up tall and modestly, although exhausted, they tried to keep their composure. They all seemed to take an intake of air, trying to contain themselves as the General continued to gaze at them. The General leaned over to the Major, gesturing for him to come closer. Luckily Lady Lidiac was able to be close enough to hear.
“I’m assuming since the Empress isn’t here, you killed her?” The General whispered, still looking at the Ingostles, “because I know we made an agreement I would do it to prove my point.”
Lady Lidiac gasped, almost breaking her cover. Syn’s eyes looked over at her for a moment, but it didn’t show any sign of whether he was suspicious or just wondering why she gasped. He returned his glance back to the General.
“We couldn’t find her, General.” The Major said defeated.
General Khyro straightened, it was obvious he was trying to hold back the anger. Lady Lidiac was grateful she didn’t allow herself to be taken. She wouldn’t be there if that was so whether that soldier killed her in Polei or if General Khyro killed her now. She just needed to make sure nothing would blow her cover until she rescued the townspeople and escaped.
“I have to go, Major. I have a very important meeting with General Westwood and it may even result in a better map for our victory of this war. Give the townspeople food, they need strength. I’ll return in a few hours for some further business. The Ingostle Empress wouldn’t have hidden in Polei, as there is nowhere else to run in that dump. She has to be here, but I suspect not in an Ingostle dress. She could be any of these people and I want to find out as soon as possible. If I don’t find out by the time I return, I’ll kill all of her Ingostles, that will catch that woman’s attention. Wherever she is.” The General said, then marched out.
Lady Lidiac’s face had gone ghostly pale. She couldn’t risk the lives of her beautiful Ladies, but to show herself might kill everyone in the room. She was left with no other choice unless she figured out another way to get out of the mess. Although, no matter how much she kept telling herself that Edda will guide her to save everyone including her Ingostles, her mind refused to think. She was trapped and panic struck like an instant freeze, Lady Lidiac stood stiff in place, unsure what else to do but to give up.
All the soldiers returned to their original position as the door slammed shut and everyone in the room shuttered. Lady Lidiac stood frozen in place, but by the corner of her eye, she spotted Syn giving her a look she could never miss.
He knew who she was.
Chapter 17- Savior
They kept General Westwood inside a hidden prison deep in the battle grounds. Although just one floor and small, the dark grey building had no windows. It stood with no life, one would never expect that there was hundreds of alive miserable men, living life with no meaning but to survive. When entering, the prisoners of war are crammed inside each small cell like zoo animals, wallowing away in their grief. It was not silent as one could hear moans and screams even beforing entering down into the dark corridor. Everything echoed, sounds enhanced to horrify and to taunt, ringing off the walls and cursing the ears of those inside. Just by the shrill sounds of the prisoners dying wishes, hundreds would go crazy by the minute, screaming to escape the Hell they were living in.
Mella shivered in being in such an environment, feeling sick at the fact that she could be in those cells if General Khyro ever discovered that she was the daughter of General Westwood. They reached the end of the long dreadful walk to a solid metal door. That was where General Khyro awaited them.
The General nodded, another man standing next to him.
“Evening, Brant. Is this the Ingostle you speak of?”
“Indeed.”
The other man slipped out a ring of keys and unlocked the massive door. As it opened, a drift of icy cold air brushed against Mella’s face, revealing yet another dark draft room. Mella was forced to stay outside while they set things up for her. In a door close by, she saw one of the guards pushing a prisoner with a black cloth over his face inside. Mella knew it was her father. She could feel her heart thumping in both fear and excitement as she knew he was in there, not even knowing it was his daughter who was to see him next. Mella peaked into the room where the others were to be in and saw a large window with three seats and a metal desk. They took a seat, General Khyro adjusting his glasses as he flipped out a notebook and pen.
“We’re ready.” The General said, his pen ready to write any form of notes.
The guard who had brought Mella’s dad inside stood next to her, gazing down at her with sharp black eyes. He gripped her arm, a shiver running up Mella’s spine as he guided her over to the other door. There, he opened the door to carry yet another unpleasant feeling of a dreadful room.
Inside the other room, General Westwood sat in an uncomfortable metal chair, his hands tied behind his back. He had gotten used to having tied wrists, but he wanted this over with as much as General Khyro. He wanted to be dead, knowing it was probably the only way to escape this insane asylum.
He wasn’t looking forward to this next session. Most all them used a form of torture from binding to electricity and he was too exhausted to deal with another if this person was planning on using that tactic. He had so many people, so many trials and pain, he wanted to die and get it over with, but he knew to stay strong for his country.
Mella only stepped in enough for the door to be closed and the prison guard whipped the cloth off of the General’s head. As soon as the covering was off, the guard left and shut the door, leaving Mella alone in the same room as her father.
General Westwood was a good looking man, broad and a nice complexion, but as he sat on the chair in an empty sound proof cement cell, he didn’t feel that way. His hair was immensely disheveled let alone his whiskery chin. Cuts of all sizes ran across his face and neck and probably down the rest of his body, but they were covered by a blood stained prison shirt and worn jeans. His square jaw locked, not even bothering to look behind him to see who was next to torture him. His eyes looked the most worn as they barely could focus in exhaustion, the color in his eyes grey and tired. He slumped in the chair, too worn to sit properly, his head rolling around over his shoulders.
Mella froze up, seeing her father in such a terrible condition, Brant told her he was going to be this way and it burned inside her. The burning sensation of grief and pity. She stood in front of the door for a long moment of time before slowly making her way towards her father.
General Westwood lifted his head, looking up to see his next pursuer. It took him a moment, his eyes barely managing to focus directly on her round painted face. When his eyes finally focused, they grey wide and both surprise and panic struck. He recognized her almost instantly even under the hat and makeup.
“What are you doing here?” He said firmly, but his words were quiet and out of character for such a strong-willed man as he.
“I had to see you.” Mella whispered, trying not to choke up in tears.
“Does Lamenna know you’re here?” He asked, Mella could see the color in his eyes grow very slowly as life stood in front of him.
“I’m twenty two, she doesn’t have to know anything. I joined the feminist church of Ingost, I moved on.”
“I can see you’ve joined, that’s wonderful,” he said, but it wasn’t with much enthusiasm or praise. His eyes grew with question again, “but why are you here?”
“You need to tell me how you do it. How you win?”
General Westwood angrily turned to the one way window, this was a question he got every time, the question that got him stuck in this place at the beginning. Now here was his daughter doing just what everyone else did. Get him to talk.
“Is this your new way of getting the words out?! Do you have any idea what this does to not only me, but it infects the entire world?”
Mella shook her head, placing her gloved hand on his shoulder.
“He didn’t know how we knew each other before.” Mella sighed, releasing his shoulder and straightening, trying to hold back the pain still lingering heavily in the ribs, “Although, if you don’t respond… he’ll kill me.”
General Westwood shot up to his feet, Mella jumping back. His face had turned cherry red, his pattern of heavy breathing scaring Mella. He wasn’t mad at her, he wished she never came, but it was more the man standing behind her inside that window.
“He would have to know if he set you up this way!” He growled, looking at the window instead of Mella.
“This was my own choice, not his. I could have opted out but I needed to see you.”
Mella’s father took a seat, catching his breath at what he was hearing. Mella wasn’t used to so much anger, her father was never like this, he was a calm patient man who never got into such fits. Although he was increasingly stubborn, it was used for the best of him, not like how he was acting in that room.
“Why would you torment me like this?” He whimpered, dropping his head.
“I came all this way to see you, this was my only chance.”
Mella knew she was taking a risk in getting this, but that was all the wanted to do was to see him and she would take those chances.
The General heaved a sigh, this time glaring right up at his own daughter.
“You shouldn't have come at all.”
In the other room, the third man, who had a computer on his lap had found something that needed to be told immediately to General Khyro and Brant. He gazed over to Mella and General Westwood, pointing a thick finger at the girl.
“That's the Ingostle that went missing from Polei.” He pointed out.
Brant froze up, knowing they were already on their way of blowing her cover. It was not only that fear, but it was as well the fear that they might discover what Brant didn’t do. He knew they would soon discover that that girl on the other side of the window was the girl he saved from the bomb he didn’t set. Then he would be in the same pickle as her. Dead.
“Find out who that Ingostle is, Pike.” General khyro told him, but then he gave Brant a suspicious glare, “what her real name is.”
Mellas eyes had gathered tears, flooding her vision as if she was looking through a wall of water. She had been regretting this entire trip and she was hoping this would end her thoughts of doubt and pity on herself, but seeing her father seemed to make everything worse. She wanted to escape, to curl up in a ball somewhere where she could be alone, where she wouldn’t be hurt or sick and everything would be okay.
“I couldn’t live without knowing if you were okay or not.” Mella cried, “All I knew was that you were captured and they had no idea of whether you were alive or not. I couldn’t live with it...it was necessary to come.”
Behind the window, Brant straightened as he took a large intake of air through his nose, realizing Mella just said something he always used as his excuse, necessary. Beside him, Pike worked away at the computer, his tiny eyes gazing into the bright screen in concentration. He no longer was watching the two people in the other room, but focused on finding out exactly who this Ingostle girl is. By just simply her words, she was giving hints whether she realized it or not and General Khyro had tensed in his chair
General Westwood dropped his head, the thoughts of his daughter standing in front of him heavy in his mind. It seemed he had no other choice, the anger had built up heavily inside him, leaving him with something he hoped would never happen. For a long time, he didn't speak, gazing down at the floor relishing the situation. After several minutes, he lifted his head and looked over at the window.
“Alright general, you want to know what you've always wanted to hear?” General Westwood spat, sparks flying from his eyes, “You want to hear my glorious secret that you've been desperate to hear from me for so long? You want to hear me give in as I finally tell you?!”
General Westwood stood up from the chair, approaching the window. He stood just inches from the glass, his breath fogging on what looked like a mirror. He seemed to be looking directly at General Khyro even through the one-way window, his stance stern as he firmly held his stance in front of the other General. General Khyro stood up, leaning forward against the table. Although there was a sheet of glass between the two generals, they were merely inches from each others faces.
“My men aim for freedom, not to win.” General Westwood began, “It’s the mindset, the perspective. We don’t fight to win while you selfishly do, we fight for our promised objective. For peace. If we lose, we lose the peace we promised to bring to my country. When both sides set for peace, this war wouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
General Khyro tensed his jaw, clawing the edge of the metal table as he glared down at the other General. His eyes were glued to the prisoner, waiting to hear more.
“That’s why you are losing.” General Westwood continued, “Getting more land, more soldiers, anything you have done will not win your war. Your expectations on your men, your country. Garbage. Nothing can save you in the way you did it, nothing can win your war. It’s too late to consider my secret, if you wanted to do what I did, you should have done it years ago. And if you did, we wouldn’t even have had this war! I don’t regret telling you this. Now that you know, I’m just going to let you know that I wasn’t giving in, I was just making you more desperate for a useless battle plan. I’ve already won the war, so it doesn’t weaken me for telling you. All that has changed is you know how we did it.”
The door of the cell swung open and the other general marched in, storming in beyond the point of anger. Loathing was sparking in his eyes. General Westwood swiftly turned to his enemy but he didn’t even react until a punch went square into his face. Mella gasped, backing up and her father toppled back into his chair, cupping his hands over his bleeding face. Mella looked back over at General Khyro. She froze up, unsure what else to think. The discomfort and confusion in the room increased to a terrifying level and Mella was just standing there unsure what else to do.
General Khyro then snapped his head over to her and pointed a bony finger directly at her face.
“Take Cromella Westwood to a private cell. I need to have a talk with her father.”
Pike, who was standing at the door, shot in as quickly as he could and grabbed a hold of Cromella. Even through the pain in her chest, Mella screamed, the shrill sound echoing in the room and out into the prison halls. Several of the prisoners crammed in their cells went quiet as they heard the cry for help, but then returned to their own personal sorrows, ignoring it. There would be no way for them to save her anyway. Cromella was too weak to escape, Pike restraining her and pulling her out of the room before she could attempt any more.
“Dad!” She screamed, trying to jerk her way back towards her father.
They found out, she couldn’t hide the fact that he was her dad anymore.
Her father just shook his head, looking at her with concern and grief. She didn’t know what to think, he gave her that look like he would help her, but it was also of something else. Something she couldn’t predict for that half a moment of his face, he was going to do something and it terrified her of the unknown.
Then the door shut and her father's face disappeared from view.
Chapter 18- Blown
Mella no longer cared about her makeup, her cover was blown and she felt it was mostly her fault. She let her tears turn into watery paint running down her face and she merely wiped it away with her glove, not caring that her black glove was turning into a rainbow and her face looked more like a smeared oil painting than an actual woman.
She saw her father. She got what she wanted, Brant gave her his promise and that’s exactly what she got. Yet, she wasn’t happy. Beyond the point of that. She was locked in a barren cell alone, her father taken from her again and Brant was no longer with her.
Yet, after all this, she thought she would be satisfied by the end.
“Idiot!” She screamed at herself, dropping her head to her chest,“you hurt your father, because of me. He had to tell the other side and gave in. He broke and it was all my fault! He’ll never be the same again because of me! And yet. Here I am. Locked in a cell that may cause me to go as crazy as those men I saw.”
Mella wept on the floor, sitting alone in a single cell. The cell was small with just a single cot and a toilet, there was nothing else. Unlike the bars for the other prisoners, this one was a solid cement room with a large metal door. She knew this would happen and feared it, yet hoped it would never happen. Yet, here she was, crying in a cell.
“Idiot!!!!”
She fell into coughing fit, clenching her chest as it struggled to bring out air she was forcing in her screams. She felt her insides would come flying out of her mouth, every cough hoarse and the aching pain treacherous. Her mind kept telling her to calm down and take it easy, but she did not want to, all she wanted to do was hate herself. She clenched her chest, closing her eyes as more coughs forced out without control. It took several minutes before it settled and she curled up, trembling in the anger inside of her.
“I’m dead. I shouldn’t have ever agreed to be an Ingostle.” She whimpered, “I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t deserve to be in such a mess. I shouldn’t have taken that project to Polei, I shouldn’t have come with Brant to those missions or agreed to tag along, I shouldn’t have come with the driver back to Polei or even allowed him to take that road. It was all a mistake... I’m a mistake.”
Mella shook her head, gazing down at her stomach, she cringed, curling up tighter, “I’m so fat and short and my life has turned to a disaster because I made that same mistake my father did. I acted on my instincts and got myself into trouble. I should have listened to my mother when she first spoke to me. I should have-” Mella broke into another jarring coughing fit, sitting up to give her more air to breathe.
The coughing continued to increase, words no longer coming out of her mouth. Her face turned from a sickly white to a purple, the lack of air trying to reach her lungs. This time, she didn’t have anything to help her, all she had was herself and she knew she had overdone it. She clenched her fists, trying to slow down on her breathing, to calm down, but her body continued to force in air through her bruised lungs.
“Help…” she tried, but it only came out as a strained gasp, “h… help.”
She could barely breathe, her body stiffening up as it tried to bring in air that she couldn’t do. Fear struck her, panic not helping with the situation as she could see black spots appearing in her vision. It felt like her throat had closed up, like there was an invisible cotton ball wedged in her lungs, preventing her from taking any form of intake of fresh air. She slammed the ground, knowing that was the only sound she could make, but it only hurt her weak hands more and no sound rang from the solid cement ground.
“He-” She couldn’t finish, speaking wasn’t going to help her.
She couldn’t move, she was too weak to even hold herself up. Her elbows trembled to hold up her weight and as she struggled to force out another cry for help, her arms weakened and she felt her body slam on the ground.
Brant. She mouthed, but it didn’t come out in words. The cold dark room turned from a fuzzy grey cell to a black abyss.
Brant was waiting outside of the room where the General’s conversed, pacing around his invisible square outside the door. He wanted to follow Pike to Mella’s cell, but he knew it would make no difference, she would get thrown in no matter what Brant did. He wasn’t sure what General Khyro was thinking of doing with her, she wouldn’t do any good and throwing her in wouldn’t do much as the General himself was still imprisoned. Brant recalled back to what happened some minutes ago. When General Westwood explained to General Khyro of his secret, it seemed like he knew exactly where General Khyro was standing. It looked like he was staring directly at the stern man through the one way window, beating him down with words General Khyro had been dying to hear over the last several months. Yet, as he listened to it, it only angered him more. He watched as every word seemed to form a new shape on General Khyro’s face. At first, it was it was stiffening up in anger, then the eyes, the locking of his jaw, the twitching of his thin lips, then the fists, growing tighter and tighter as his face went from flesh to pink to red. The enemy hadn’t even finished talking before the General stormed out and went straight to the door where Brant watched him slam open the door in rage.
Brant hated to admit it, but General Westwood was right.
They weren’t going to win the war no matter what General Westwood would say to them. Brant heaved a sigh, remembering that look General Khyro gave him as the other man told him the Ingostle’s name was Cromella Westwood. To see his face when he realized what Brant was actually up to. To the general, he was an imposter. Inside, Brant felt like he traitor, hiding so many secrets from the big boss himself. He wasn’t a killer, yet he worked as a killer in the general’s eyes. He had regret’s of his own, but some things that the General may not agree on Brant would never regret. He knew who he was, he was a servant with two masters, his conscience and General Khyro. He knew he was going to have to lose to one of them at some point.
Inside the room, he cringed as he heard a loud clatter, unsure if it belonged to General Khyro or General Westwood. The room was supposed to be sound proof, yet he could still hear shouts inside. He couldn’t understand what the shouts were saying, but he knew it was the fury of two sides in a single room.
He stopped pacing, leaning closer to the door, but he would never be able to decipher their conversation. He forced his ears to hear, but his focus quickly dissolved as he saw Pike darted over to him, panting hard as he stopped in front of the spy.
“What is it?” Brant asked.
The man pointed behind him, trying to catch his breath.
“She was screaming for a while, throwing a fit and such, which is normal for someone who gets thrown into prison after all that had happened, but… the screams turned into coughing and before I knew it... it-”
“It was what!?” Brant asked patiently, not caring that Pike was still trying to catch his breath.
Pike gulped, “it was completely silent in there.”
In panic, Brant threw Pike away from him, his heart racing in his chest.
“Do you have the key?” He asked, running his fingers through his bushel of hair.
“Of course, but I can’t just open the cell again without direct orders from the General.”
“The General is busy, I give the orders. Open that cell, I need to see her.”
“Sir-”
“NOW!!!”
Brant ran ahead, snatching the keys the man was holding in his hand. He darted across to the door at the end of the hallway, hoping to slam it open and rush in for help. His hands trembled as he struggled to stick the key in the lock, cold sweat trickling down his forehead as his hands barely managed to even hold the key. He hadn’t even opened the door by the time Pike arrived, still trying to catch his breath from the last run from the cell to the observation room. Pike, noticing the struggling man trying to get at the door, took the keys from him and pushed him out of the way. His hands were much more sturdy and he opened the cell door with no struggle. As soon as the key clicked in place, Brant turned the knob and swung open the door. He could barely breathe himself when he saw Mella nearly lifeless on the cold cement ground.
He slid down to his knees next to her, and quickly reached his mouth towards her in CPR. She needed oxygen, he would give it to her with whatever he had.
“Should I call someone else for help?” Pike asked in slight panic, still trying to let the situation sink into his head.
Brant didn’t respond, too busy on saving Mella’s life than conversing with the Security Guard. This time, he didn’t have an oxygen mask, he only had himself.
“Brant!” Pike called, trying to get his attention.
When there continued to be no response, he shrugged and ran out, trying to go for his own instincts. Although, out of everything, Pike didn’t want to lose his job, so he would choose where to go accordingly. He knew the General wouldn’t appreciate him doing things without direct orders. In a public setting, calling an ambulance would be the best option, but they were in the middle of battlegrounds and he wasn’t sure if the General would completely agree on such a thing. They had medics in the prison, but they would only come under direct orders. Although, it seemed like the only option.
So he went to the General, swinging open the door almost completely forgetting that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Usually, one would expect the door would be locked, but it would have to be locked on the outside and nobody would lock the Generals inside. Deep regret struck Pike like a racquetball in the gut. He was just holding up the collar of General Westwood’s shirt as the door swung open, his eyes inflamed as he saw the panicked man at the door.
“What is it?!!” He barked, his face so deep red it looked like his head would explode in flames.
“Uh… nothing… sir, I j-just-” General Khyro released the other general and approached the man. Pike cowered.
“Speak your reasoning!!!”
“The-the-the girl, she-she can’t breathe… w-we need medical h-help!” He squeaked.
“The girl?!”
General Westwood started to grow more angry as well, standing up straight and approaching the man. Pike shrunk, regretting every second of this.
“If my girl dies in this prison, everyone dies in here including you!!!!” General Westwood barked, pointing to the both of them
General Khyro gave a shooting glare back at the other general., holding his fists so tight, his knuckles had turned white.
“Then let. Her. Die.”
Pike just stood there in shock, frozen in place. He merely stared at the General in terror, his eyes refusing to leave his sight. General Khyro grabbed the back of the chair and threw it across the room, Pike shuddering at the fury inside the room. The General snapped his head back to Pike.
“Did you not hear me?!!”
“I-I heard you… sir” He gulped hard.
“Then do as you were told.”
Pike nodded and scuttled out, General Khyro slamming the door shut again, he turned back to his enemy.
Outside of the cell, Pike scurried over back to the cell. He couldn’t think, he was left unsure what else to do, being pushed around with everything so overwhelming. Brant was still trying to revive her and he himself was facing inner conflict, trying to save her life
“Brant, I don’t know what to do. General tells me no, I have to listen to him.”
Brant finally listened to him and turned to him, glaring at Pike.
“Do you want her to die?!!!!!”
“N-no… s-sir.”
“Then call the medical and tell them it came directly from the general.”
“S-sir… I-I-I can’t do th-that… sir. I-”
“DO IT!!!!!!”
Unsure what else to do, Pike rushed out, making his way to the phone against the wall around the corner. He dashed to the telephone, his fingers trembling so hard he could barely get his fingers to hit the dials on the number pad.
“T-two… o-one…. O-one!” He shuttered, his eyes barely able to focus on what he was pressing.
He could barely hold the phone to his ear as he waited for someone to answer.
“Y-yes… d-d-direct o-orders from-from the gen-general…. Girl-girl need-needs medi-c-cal… help!” He listened for the receiver to respond, “p-private… cell… f-four.”
As soon as he finished with that, he didn’t hang up, he just dropped the phone and scurried back down the hallway to Mella’s cell. At that moment, he was stopped by a shout from behind. He instantly froze, unable to even turn around as the footsteps grew louder and louder. His heart had stopped, every step making him cringe in the horror of his life at the moment.
Then the General was in front of him.
“What do you think you are doing?!” He bellowed
“I-ah…” General Khyro grabbed a hold of Pikes collar, pulling him close to his face.
“Did you alert medical?”
Pike didn’t respond, but the General already knew. General Khyro threw the man on the ground and marched over to the cell where Mella was. Pike just sat there, watching him make his way to the cell. He knew he would be facing the consequences already, his shock merely left him speechless and immobile, his mind refusing to think properly.
Brant had been spending those several minutest still doing CPR until Mella was on her side gasping for air again. He helped her sit up, patting her back to help the air circulate through her body. She was still coughing, but wide awake now, Brant gazing down at her hoping she would stay alert.
“What is this? Brant-” General Khryo said as he stormed inside and seeing his favored spy holding the dying girl on his lap.
Mella was holding her chest, still trying to catch her breath taken from her. She was definitely in shock, shivering as she leaned against Brant.
“I told you she could do it.” Brant explained, “She got what you wanted to hear. She got him to speak, I know you want her to die, but you made a rule that you shouldn’t break.”
“She deserves to, especially after finding out her father is General Westwood himself. I’d rather him suffer as he sees his daughter dead in front of his very own eyes.”
“You’re a murderer.”
“And you are not, Brant. I found out soon enough that you weren’t the one who exploded that jeep. Idiot. Traitor. Why did I hire you in the first place if I knew you couldn’t get blood on your hands?”
“I could still do what you were told without killing people!” Brant answered, keeping a firm eye directly on the General.,“I couldn’t do everything that you told me. I claim to not be a killer, but I am willing to kill certain people to prevent you from killing thousands.”
General shot his glare back at Brant.
“You’re an Imposter, Brant. Why did I ever think of trusting you?”
Brant lied Mella carefully against the wall and stood up.
“That train you sent with that shell to make a bomb to explode an entire city? I’m sure you know about that. The all famous terrorist attack that prevented you from doing the worst thing a human can ever do. Kill thousands just to prove a point, just to win a stupid war.”
“That was you?!”
“What. Do. You. Think?” Brant spat.
Brant wouldn’t have thought more anger would have built up already to his face, but by the time his face started to turn purple he knew he was not just angry. He was furious. Brant held a firm stance, not caring that the intensity in the General’s eyes had turned cold and dark, sinking his grey eyes deep into Brants soul. The General stepped up directly in front of Brant, but he merely kept his composure, standing there in clenched teeth as he gazed back into Khyro’s eyes.
“I don’t know what word could describe how I feel about you right now. It’s far beyond hate, past the point of loathing. You were my most trusted spy and here you are… a traitor.”
Brant leaned forward into the General’s face.
“It was necessary.”
It was the hard blow in the face that left Brant flying, his body slamming on the ground. He lied there unconscious, the General gazing down at him, breathing heavily as he held his bloody fist.
Although Mella was still in shock, to see Brant on the ground was unbearable. She knew moving would hurt her, but anger within herself started to grow. As she sat there, General Khyro glaring down at the unconscious Brant beside her, she reached under her dress and carefully stood up, supporting herself against the wall. She leaned up against it, too weak to even be standing, let alone moving as she was.
The flames in his eyes moved as it came from gazing down at Brant to Mella. A smile grew on his long ugly face, but isn’t of joy, it was enmity.
“Cromella Westwood, an Ingostle who strained far from home just to see her father. I’m sure you’ve long realized that you’ve been a fool falling into this. I could kill your father right now, he can’t do much with his hands tied behind his back and locked in the observation room. You got what you wished, now I want to do what I wanted to do. Now that I know what he did to his army, I can kill him, but that would be too easy. The world already thinks he's dead, it wouldn’t be as big of a deal. But to see the pain when his daughter was killed by General Khyro. He’ll never be the same, I feel the pain would be much worse than killing General Westwood himself. Then once the world realized he was alive and without a daughter, I’ll kill him too and everything will fall into disaster. To kill the General’s daughter would be a pleasure, as-” He was stopped short as a click was heard from behind General Khyro’s back.
The sound was all too familiar and the General instantly knew what was there behind him. Pike, out of panic and hope, had loosed General Westwood from the handcuffs and he had ran out the door, snatching the gun from Pike’s belt. Now Mella’s father stood, the end of the barrel against Khyro’s back. He held it firmly, forcing General Khyro to raise his hands up in the air.
“At the moment, I would think it would be easier to kill you than for you to kill me.” General Westwood said, the gun pressing harder into the soft flesh of Khyro’s back.
“You wouldn’t though. Your daughter is not dead, so why kill me if she isn’t?” General Khyro asked, preventing his shuddering from reaching his voice.
Two of the medical doctors came scurrying over, but they abruptly stopped as they noticed General Khyro at point blank gunpoint just at the door where they were to enter. They couldn’t see inside, so they were forced to remain, keeping a good distance from the situation.
“We’ve had a good talk, General Khryo, but your word is on yourself. You kill me, there will be an entire country to kill you, you kill my daughter and it’s me who will.”
While General Westwood spoke, Mella used the wall to support her as she walked around the cell towards the door. She knew the medical doctors were out there and she knew being stuck in there with two men against each other was not something she didn’t want to get involved in any longer. They had seemed to completely forgotten about her and she knew she had to escape the situation.
“If I kill you, your country will collapse and although my country will have the peace you were preventing my side to have, your country will not. It will not be because of us, it will because an idiotic general did some things your country will forever regret. They’ll think back to this time and realize how stupid they were to fall through such as they did and they’ll struggle to renew it because they never knew the secret the other side had. They’ll collapse, they’ll fall into a depression and then… just like the Halmonacs… your country will fall and there won’t even be statues on your shores to remember you by. You’ll be forgotten, and your country will be forgotten and that goal of winning will never happen. Your objective wasn’t peace such as my country has wished for, it was all to win. You won’t get peace no matter what you do.”
General Khyro noticed Mella nearing closer towards them, noticing the glint hidden in her hand. She was hiding something, but he didn’t have enough time to see what it was before he was forced to look at General Westwood through the corner of his eye.
“If you kill me, just know, most of my country already thinks I’m dead. It will do nothing on your end.” General Westwood added.
“Thus a bigger reason to kill you anyway.” General Khyro grumbled, “but it will be your daughter that I will kill first, just to make you feel like you were dead before I finished you off.”
Mella was still against the wall, almost hearing the heavy breathing coming from both generals.
“You don’t get my point, General. When they find out why you killed me, you will still be left in jeopardy. Our objective is peace and when they realize you tried to prevent their peace, they’ll try harder. You’ll lose no matter what you say or do. Whoever you kill, whoever you hurt, whoever you don’t hurt, your country has already long lost. You are already dead.”
Mella was taken by surprise as General Khyro swiftly swerved over to her, grabbed the knife and before the trigger was pulled on the gun, what was once in Mella’s hand, was into her father's side. The quick moment of motion nearly lost Mella’s balance, Mella twisting around to catch herself. But then she dug her foot into the ground and swerved towards General Khyro and as Khyro shot the knife into her father's side, she was behind him, looking at her father in horror around the other general.
General Westwood gasped, holding the knife in his side, everything seemed to fall in circles. The pleasure on General Khyro’s face was unbearable until he realized the shock on General Westwood’s face started turning into laughter. He straightened, holding up the supposed knife, but it was just the silver sheath. General Khyro would have been so horrified at the fact that he had mistaken the glint as the knife, but the knife was in her other hand while the sheath was in the hand he had snatched from. He didn’t realize until it was too late that the real knife was no longer in Mella’s other hand. General Khyro gasped for a breath, his face turning from a purple to a deathly pale. He fell to his knees, his eyes barely looking up at Mella in disbelief. General Westwood stopped laughing as he noticed the real knife stuck into General Khyro’s back. The color had vanished from General Khyro’s face and he toppled over head first on General Westwood’s feet.
Mella slid down the wall, trying to catch the breath she was still trying to recover from. She could hear her barely beating heart in her own ears, the adrenaline the only thing that made her do what she just did. With her knife in the General’s back, everything else seemed to fog, it was already foggy before, but she could barely grasp the energy of staying awake. The two medic’s rushed in once the doorway was clear, one taking care of Mella and the other with Brant. Before taking care of Mella, they quickly checked on General Khyro’s pulse to see if he was alive, but by the time they reached him. He was already dead.
She didn’t want to breathe no matter what her body forced her to do. When the medics picked her up, her head dropped and her foggy world faded off, back into the darkness. Back into the world she loved more than the life she was given.
Chapter 19- Secrets
Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie were already in enemy territory by the time they heard about what happened. They had searched for days, hoping to find her, asking around for any hints of the missing Ingostle. Lady Mgee was able to talk to a young woman who happened to see an Ingostle on a train some two weeks ago and Lady Eliquie found two men, one a native of the land, who had actually cared for her of her pneumonia at the bombed hospital, from there, it led them to the prison. They had to stop there, they knew they couldn’t go any further. Past there, they were not allowed for the life of them and they found themselves clutching on the ring fence gazing across the barren battleground hoping to see her coming back after she accomplished her mission.
They had been searching for days, they were lucky to hear about what they had heard. It was such a large world, to actually find out where Mella went was overwhelming. A miracle sent by the god of Edda. They found out that Mella’s entire journey was with a man named Brant, a spy who had supposedly bombed her jeep in the first place. They didn’t know what to think of that, but whatever he was doing, they weren’t sure if it was by force or choice. Either way, Mella was in the middle of battle grounds doing things that they didn’t even know about. She could have been dead for all they knew.
The two Ingostles hadn’t been able to contact Lady Lidiac since they last left and they couldn’t imagine what the Empress was thinking. Lady Lidiac had probably several times of finding a hidden corner where she could break into sobs, not caring about her make-up, just the missing Ingostle and the two Ingostles searching for her. Neither of them had any idea that Lady Lidiac with the twelve remaining Ingostles were taken refuge from the Khyro Republic, waiting for the militia to save them.
Everything had collapsed, the whole trip had bombs, kidnapped Ingostles, getting stranded into battle fields and the death of several townspeople who couldn’t quite make it. None of this they could really do about it, but they wished everything hadn’t fallen into such a disaster. Maybe Lady Lidiac shouldn’t have decided to do a service project in the middle of the battle fields.
They waited there for hours, hoping to see some sign of an Ingostle driving or walking their way, but there was nothing. The round young Ingostle was nowhere to be found and they grew increasingly worried every minute that passed.
“You think they killed her over there?” Lady Mgee asked, trying so hard not to burst into tears.
Lady Eliquie pulled the small woman close to her, resting her chin on top of her head. Lady Mgee had curled up, her hands glued to her face as she gazed in tears ready to burst out into the empty grey land.
“Lady Mella is stronger than we think, if she was able to go through all of that, she could make it through this.” Lady Eliquie explained, trying to stay optimistic in the hopeless situation.
Then a noise came from behind and they both whipped their head to hear the familiar sirens of an ambulance. There was, in fact, two ambulances, rushing over with their blue and red lights flashing in the grey foggy air. They wouldn’t be able to go any further past the gate, but as they stopped, their sirens still ringing through their ears, a jeep came speeding down the road inside the battle grounds.
The gates opened and the jeep, speeding faster than the dirt underneath its wheels could carry, swerved and slid right in between the two ambulances. Both Ingostles rushed over near the jeep to see who was in there and the pediatrics rushed out, helping place the people inside on gurney’s.
There was more than one injured and it brought serious doubt.
Lady Mgee stood on her tippy-toes, hoping but not hoping to see the familiar red dress of the dear friend they had tried so hard to look for. The first man they pulled out was surely dead and a plastic sheet was placed over the top of him, the next was two other men who looked like they would be alright. Then they saw her, the familiar red dress and mousy brown hair of the long lost Ingostle. Lady Mgee clutched lady Eliquie’s arms, bursting into the tears she had held in for so long, sobbing in her friend's arm. Lady Eliquie didn’t hesitate any longer. She politely patted Lady Mgee on the head so she could catch her attention. The tiny Ingostle gazed up at her old friend and Lady Eliquie nodded. There, they rushed over to the open doors of the ambulance just as they pulled her inside.
“Will she be alright?” Lady Eliquie asked in panic.
The pediatric glanced down at her, rushed to help the victims as soon as he could.
“Do you know her?” He asked.
By then, Lady Mgee had caught up, a sobbing mess as she gazed up at him too.
“Yes, we are good friends.”
“We need to get to the hospital as quickly as possible, so get in then.” He snapped.
Lady Eliquie jumped in, helping the short Ingostle inside as well just as they closed the doors of the ambulance.
There, the hospital vehicle took the long dreadful ride to the hospital.
***********************
Lady Lidiac was shoved against the wall just outside of the mast cell where the people waited. Syn pinned her with his large bony hand on her neck, his glare piercing in betrayal and anger.
“I trusted you, Serenity. You were so pretty and I enjoyed your presence...I was actually starting to like you.” Syn said through clenched teeth, “how can you do this to me?”
Lady Lidiac clenched his hand, trying to wrench it from her neck. Her face had turned purple, the difficulty to breathe making it hard for her to even speak.
“I… was never… intending to… be your friend.” She gasped, her nails digging into his skin.
Lyn flinched, but kept his hand strong around her neck.
“All this time, Serenity. All this time you were that Empress. That was one of our two objectives. The first one was to take all of the people of Polei refuge, the other was to take the Empress in specific and make sure she is alive for the General. Yet, here you are, disguised as one of us and I didn’t even know you were her until I realized what was really going on. I would think I would have realized that I didn’t recognize you even a little bit. It wasn’t like you had your long red dress the General told us to search for. You’re… well, you are without makeup and in a soldier uniform. How could I have guessed? Well, I should have. I found out soon enough about the soldier you knocked out and shoved in a closet. I found out before even the General knew because he was one of my good friends. Now that I think about it, you carry the scent of him, through those clothes you stole. I don’t know if you knew who you stole the clothes from, Serenity, but his name was Jahk. Good friend, I wondered where he went. I thought he was killed or was left, but we returned to this place with the same amount of people as we left. Now I know why. When I saw you on that truck, I had those thoughts that I just met a great soldier, yet, she was never a soldier at all. Merely a leader of a girl church. She had never fought before, felt betrayed before, she had never seen her friends die in her arms, or be taken from the enemy never to be seen again, she had never experienced the true pain of getting shot, or working weeks of training while a man is screaming in your ear. A woman with nothing but a few prissy Ingostles and a pretty dress.
“I found out soon enough what happened to Syn. After all of this, I realized I had deceived myself. It wasn’t even a thought that a woman soldier I had never seen in my life before wasn’t a soldier at all. I enjoyed sitting in that truck with you, looking into your green eyes and admiring that you joined this trip. I was thinking we would be good friends, maybe even date. Ha, how stupid of me. How stupid of me to-”
“Sir!!!” A shout came from behind Syn. It sounded urgent, but it didn’t sound like it was going directly to stop choking the other soldier.
However, Syn still released the Ingostle and she fell to her knees, holding her neck, choking in her moment of a closed airway. The soldier who called had ran over to Syn, catching his breath as he stopped in front of him.
“What is it?”
“Go get the others. It’s… urgent.”
Without hesitation, Syn ran inside where he called all the soldiers out. They piled out, standing in salute. The running soldier straightened, his face pasty white.
“The General.” He started, still trying to catch his breath, “is dead.”
The sounds of disbelief sounded in the halls. The soldiers stopped saluting and all turned to each other in concern.
“Who killed him?” Syn asked.
“We don’t know. It could be out of three people; Brant, General Westwood, or the Ingostle girl.”
Lady Lidiac, still on her hands and knees, gazed up at the solder.
“Lady Mella.” She whispered, her heart filling with sorrow.
“Do you know the girl?” The running soldier asked.
“She most certainly does,” Syn said. He grabbed the collar of her uniform jacket and yanked her up to her feet, Lady Lidiac weakened from merely being choked to death, “why don’t you tell them, Serenity.” He spat.
Lady Lidiac couldn’t lift her head. She had already lost, but at the same time, she hadn’t. Their head leader was dead. The war was probably over, the people of Polei were probably going to be released because there is nothing they could do with them. The war was practically over. Lady Lidiac suddenly rejoiced inside and a smile grew on her face.
“Tell them!” Syn screamed, jerking her head so she had to look up at the soldier gazing at her.
She straightened, Syn releasing her. She looked at each pair of eyes on every one of the soldiers.
“My name is Lady Serenity Lidiac, Empress of the Feminist church of Ingost and I’m here to free the people of Polei.”
Lady Lidiac was certain they would attack her, but they merely stared at her wide eyed. Nobody said a word, nobody made a move, time seemed to freeze with the eyes glued on the Empress in their midsts. Syn would have acted if the others had reacted differently, but he tensed, hoping for someone to act.
“Well? She’s the Empress!” Syn reminded.
“We were supposed to take her directly to the General.” One said.
“But the General is dead.”
“She is practically useless to us now.”
Syn clenched his fists, wanting to do something about it, but nobody supported him. Lady Lidiac nodded, and walked towards the door, all the soldiers moving out of the way so she could enter. Inside, the people of Polei sat, their heads down in their knees, or their bodies lying on the cold cement ground. Lady Lidiac pulled off her helmet, a glimmer in her eye with her make-up less face.
“Let’s get you all out of here.”
************************
Brant didn’t even need to stay overnight at the hospital, for it was merely a mild concussion, General Westwood would for the safety of his health and possibly a few more days, but the main concern was on Mella. They found out it was more than just a bruising in the lungs, her lungs were collapsing. They had to do immediate surgery and Brant wouldn’t leave from the outside of the operating room, holding his hands to his face in concern and worry.
Brant couldn’t leave her sight, knowing part of this was his fault. He felt he would never be able to forgive himself. He had not only betrayed his entire country, but he almost killed the girl he promised to protect. When the operation seemed successful, he remained sitting in a chair outside of her room, running his fingers through his disheveled hair in stress. Although the surgery was successful, it didn’t mean she would live for sure. There was so much complications for the condition she had and it hurt to know what could happen with her within the next several hours.
“She’ll be alright, but it will be a couple of weeks before she’s on her feet.” The doctor keeps telling him, but they wouldn't let him see her.
He kept asking, but they continually told him no. They were still trying to regulate her and to have visitors was the wrong time.
When her father was released, he never left. He approached Brant and grabbed a chair from across the room. There, he pulled it over and plopped next to the spy. General Westwood was clean shaven and was wearing a new set of clothes. Although his face was clean, he still had that sorrow of his daughter in that hospital room.
“I just got news from the military authorities.” The general said as they sat there in the silence that seemed to last for a long time.
“And?”
“They had to let me know before announcing it to public. They have declared the ending off the war.”
“And let me guess, you won.” Brant said, he knew it no matter how much he wanted to admit that he was on Khyro’s side and they should have won.
“Indeed. Now forgive me for showing pride for my side, but I believe, unless I'm wrong, you could be the next leader. You heard everything I had told General Khyro before he left us, meaning you could be the responsible one for showing your side what’s actually right. If you teach them like how I taught my men, there may be no war within our countries.”
“I never agreed on general Khyro's plan,” Brant agreed, “and yes, I very much heard every word. Although, because of that, I am in no field to be General and retrain my men like that. I may be important to the once living General of my country, but that does not mean I am in the right office to be General. However, if the country doesn’t ever think I betrayed them, I can teach the General how to train his men.”
“Because the war has officially ended and my position had been temporarily taken over by General Keahon, I don’t have much need to stay here. I want to go home and see my wife, see what had changed in our town of Chire. As for you, if you are unable to cope with the General, as, if I’m correct, I think there are some bad rumors about you at the moment. Rumors that believe you may have killed the General yourself, because of that, you may have already lost your position and may never be at the next General’s side. There are other ways to show your country, it will be harder, but I believe you can do it. I’ve seen you fight, I’ve seen how you think and work, Brant, I think you’re country will learn from its mistake. I, however, will return back to Chire as soon as Izzy recovers, then from there, I will see my wife.”
“I can’t imagine how you’ve been feeling with your daughter and all that.” Brant mentioned.
“It was naive of her to come here like that. Although, I can’t be too angry as I myself did things like that all of the time. It’s a bit too late to reconsider her path now.”
Brant laughed, but then the thought of general Khyro and all that had happened and his laughter silenced. Although she had some traumatic events of getting blown from a jeep and going through troubling trials Brant dragged her along with, it was the fact of hearing about the death of General Khyro. He knew exactly who had killed him and his gut tensed up.
“How will she be able to handle that it was her that killed General Khyro?”
General Westwood took in a large intake of air.
“That's the one thing that will scar her for life. I don’t like to imagine it, but I fear she may fall when she wakes up and realizes what she did. I wish I could take that burden from her and put it in my own hands. I would have rather have killed him myself than my own daughter.”
Brant dropped his head.
“That’s the reason why I’ve vowed not to kill for that very reason. There was only two witnesses, you and I, whatever we can, we will never let it out to the public who killed the general. If they think it was me, then so be it, but I don’t want anyone to know it was actually her that killed the general.”
“I can’t agree any more. If they ever ask, it will remain unanimous.”
“But that will never change Mella. She will always know whether the world knows or not. I can’t imagine how she could be feeling with that on her shoulders.”
“Me neither.”
“Do you have the knife?” Brant asked.
“Yes, I pulled it out and slipped it back in the hilt. The General actually tried to kill me with her knife, but had snatched the hilt and stabbed me merely with the holder of the knife. When they took me in the ambulance out of there, my fingerprints had already smothered the handle. If all else, I would be known as the true killer of General Khyro.”
For a while, they sat there in silence, waiting until they could enter and see her, but so far, nothing hinted that they would be seeing her any time soon. There was constant doctors inside the room, trying to help her but not once did they inquire for them to visit her.
As they sat there, the hospital doors of the hall swung open as Rohana rushed in, dragging her child behind her in panic.
“Is she okay? Will she live?”
“They said she’ll be alright.” Brant responded, both the General and Brant standing up.
“It’s all over the news. General is saved by his daughter at the prison. Khyro is dead, war is officially declared finished! Daughter in hospital with a well fought battle. Is she alright? I have to know. That poor girl had gone through so much. I’ve been dying to get over here and see her, know that she is okay.”
“So they finally declared it’s ending to the public.” General Westwood said about the same time Brant said:
“The doctors said she would be alright, but they won’t let us see her.”
“See her? How do you mean?”
“Maybe come back in the next few days when she can really have visitors.”
“I’m not going to wait a few days.” She mumbled, she then released her daughter's hand, dragged another chair next to them and sat down.
“I’ll have to wait with you guys then.”
For only a few minutes, Rohana kept her composure. Her lip trembled, but she kept sitting straight, keeping her eyes glued to the same spot on the wall across from her. Then she broke, digging her face into Brant’s shoulder. Her daughter just sat on the floor, calmly playing with a folded piece of paper left near her on the tile, minding her own business.
Brant hesitated to wrap his arm around her shoulder, but as she continued to cry, he finally managed to do some form of comfort.
It wasn’t until later that day until the doctor finally came out and told them they could see her.
“She’s asleep though. I know you’ve been desperate to see her, but she’s not in good condition. I’ll give you a few moments, then I would please ask you to leave as we shouldn’t have visitors past this time.” The doctor explained.
Rohana was the first to enter, rushing inside to see the girl. She kept her hands covering her mouth as her father and Brant entered.
With the setting sun, it was dark in the room, merely a glint of the sliver of sun shining through her window. Mella lied in her bed, tubes in her nose and cords across her body. She still had the scratches across her face, beginning to scar as they were merely a couple of weeks old. Her hair was disheveled, her face so white as she lied there asleep, waiting to wake up to a happy life. That was, if she was going to be happy once she realized what she had done. General Westwood stood by her, looking at his daughter in awe and concern. Brant ran the back of his hand on her cold cheek, kissing her on the forehead.
“You will get better, Mella, I promise.”
It had been three days. Brant no longer cared about what the news said. He was grateful that the war was over and although he was a major part of the war, he knew by what he had done, he would never be a trusted spy to the next General. So what? He knew for sure Lieutenant Glynn would be the new general. His rank was high, but he didn’t like to be considered by his ranking, even General Khyro himself called him Brant instead of Lieutenant.
Next to him, General Westwood read deeply into a newspaper, sitting beside him next to her room. She was resting, but neither of them wanted to leave yet. They were forced to leave that first night, but as soon as the sun returned, they came back to the hospital, knowing they would never miss the opportunity of seeing her awake.
“Brant, are you going to the ranking event on Saturday? They just got a new ranking class after General Khyro was killed. They will probably be putting Major Glynn to General soon enough.” General Westwood asked.
“I wasn’t invited.”
“Well that’s about to change very quickly.” Rohana said as she arrived in a full uniform.
Brant immediately shot to his feet, his feet parallel and his arms stiff on his side. He stood in salute, but Rohana merely laughed. She had spent all that time wishing to not join the military, yet, here she was.
“At ease.” She said, approaching Brant casually even through her military uniform.
He knew instantly it wasn’t just a soldier uniform, it was a lieutenant uniform.
“How… I had no idea you were even in the army, let alone a lieutenant.”
“Air force, Brant, that's how I met your brother. We earned our ranking at the same time. We were partnered up and soon we became partners forever. I, however, did not want to join General Khyro in the military, that’s why I refused to and merely lied about it because I assumed you didn’t know. I had no intention of working by his side. I talked to Major Glynn, he wants you to go. Come in your uniform.”
“Ma’am, I was excommunicated from my rank. I am no longer Lieutenant, you should know this.” Brant said firmly.
“It was not me who made the orders, it was the Major himself.” Rohana specified.
“Than why did he send someone from the air force?”
“Because you know me and he wanted to send someone you knew.”
Brant sighed, looking at Mella’s closed door. He turned his head back over at the Lieutenant.
“Very well then, I’ll go, but just know, I don't deserve this, I disobeyed orders, I lied to General Khyro, I can't be in the army any more. I should be in jail right now.”
“General Glynn knows what you did, he doesn't care. He wants to see you.”
Brant heaved another sigh.
“Then yes, I guess I’ll go to the ceremony on Saturday then.”
Rohana smiled.
“I’ll see you in three days.”
Rohana left, going to her meeting. Brant thought he knew her, but that was something he had no idea about. She kept it well secretive and he wished he would have known sooner. Being a friend and a wife to his dead brother, she could be an advantage for what he wanted to do. He wanted his country to learn how General Westwood taught his men, he wanted to change their thoughts to peace instead of greed. He knew it would be hard, but if he could get the help of Rohana, he could just do what he needed to do. Because of Rohana, she may help with as well General Westwood to help his country.
When Saturday came, Brant woke early so he would be on time to the ceremony at 8:00. He decided to get an apartment, knowing, after getting excommunicated, he wouldn’t be moving around doing his job. He had kept his uniform folded neatly in a suitcase that he kept in storage. When he moved into the apartment, he got into the storage and had unpacked everything. Except for the uniform.
He opened the suitcase, the green uniform neatly placed inside. He heaved a sigh, pulling it out, he placed it on the ironing board, getting rid of the fold creases and slipped the uniform on. He hadn’t worn the uniform since the last ceremony he was at, when he was ranked as Lieutenant. He should have had his uniform taken when he was excommunicated, yet, he still had it and now he was wearing it over his broad structured body. He groomed his hair, greased back the fluff and shaved the whiskers that had grown from his chin. There, he left his apartment and took a cab to the ceremony.
The ceremony was extremely formal. Brant found himself standing in a line amidst other soldiers. He kept repeating the words, he knew he didn't deserve to be here, he knew what he did, it didn't matter what others knew or didn't know.
Major Glynn stood at the end of the isle where others stood for their ranking. Hundreds of soldiers stood at attention including Brant. He felt out of place, he didn’t belong within them, even before he was excommunicated he never seemed to fit in. He never liked the uniform and he could get away with it being a spy.
When the ceremony ended, Brant was desperate to leave. There was much celebration and speeches, inspiring words echoing in the large stadium like a conscience. As it ended with the folding of the Khyro flag, everyone made their exit. Brant was almost the first to leave. However, that didn’t stop the now General Glynn as he caught him just before exiting the doors of the stadium.
“Lieutenant-”
“Please general, I am not lieutenant, I’m just Brant. I am no longer in the military.”
“I know what you did.” General Glynn said, standing in front of Brant. He stopped in his tracks, “I don't know who killed General Khyro, but I could easily assume it was you, but I still respect you, Brant. I invited you because I wanted to see you respected before you had to leave. You are an amazing man, Brant. I wanted to congratulate personally before your departure,” the general shook his hand, “thank you for your hard work for our country.”
“Thank you, but inviting me was unnecessary. I will give you my uniform tomorrow. If you'll please excuse me, General, I've got a girl on the hospital that I need to see.”
Brant unpinned the ranking badges and placed it in the general's hand. He started to walk off again.
“Brant.” Brant stopped and turned his head to the renounced General, “Keep the uniform.”
As Brant stepped out of the stadium, he gazed down at his phone to see a missed call from general Westwood. He redialed.
“General, is this about Cromella?”
“Yes, but it could be more of a blessing than bad news.”
“I'm coming over right now.”
Brant rushed to the hospital, approaching the general outside her open door.
“So what is the news? Is she awake?”
“Yes, and...well, because of being in shock during those remaining few minutes of general Khyro, she doesn't remember.” General Westwood explained.
“So are you saying she won't remember what she did?”
“She remembers bits and pieces, we need to talk to her to see, but it looks like she doesn't remember the part when she… you know.”
“Let's find out then.”
Brant and general Westwood entered the room, Mella wide awake and partly sitting up in bed. The tubes still hung from her nose and her face still looked pasty, but they were grateful she was at least awake.
“How are you feeling?” Brant asked, sitting on the bed.
“I've been better.” She muttered, her voice was whispy and tense, groggy from her colma.
“What do you remember in that cell at the prison?” General Westwood asked.
“It's foggy. I was fully alert when I was first thrown in, but my screaming and panic was when I had lost it and couldn’t breathe. After that was foggy, I remember supporting myself against the wall and I made my way towards the door, but General Khyro blocked it and then… well, then I saw general Khyro dead on the ground and I don't remember anything else.”
“Nothing else? Any other specific details?” Brant asked, but Mella just shook her head.
She had lost a lot of weight, her body less round than it was when Brant first met her. Her face was thinner, showing out her narrow jawline and a more slender neck. Over time, even before she ended up at the hospital, she was slowly losing the weight, but it was because of her unhealthiness and it hurt Brant more than joyed him. Even if she had lost some of the burdens of her self-conscious life.
“Thank you for all of the help, supporting me, helping me. It had meant so much to me to find my dad let alone have him come home with me. I told you how I was feeling physically, hurting, stiff, sore; but emotionally, I feel wonderful. I have never felt this good before and it had something to do with you, Brant. Thank you.”
Brant refrained from blushing, knowing of Mella’s self image concerns. It made him happy to know she was alright mentally, but she wouldn't have been if she would have known she killed General Khyro. Brant was grateful she couldn’t remember and her father was as well, they couldn't imagine how she would be if she knew she killed him, her mental state would not be like how she was feeling if she knew.
Brant ran his hand through her hair.
“You’re amazing.”
“Is there anything else you need me to tell you?” Mella asked, the compliment not even coming all the way through her head.
“I think that’s all, Izzy. Although, I’d like to let you know that you're Ingostle friends are coming to visit you soon.” Her father said, a smile growing on her face when he called her Izzy.
“I’d love to see them. When are they coming?”
“In about fifteen minutes.”
“Actually, sorry, more like fifteen seconds.” Lady Lidiac said as she entered with the fourteen other Ingostles, “we apologize for being early. How are you doing, Lady Mella?”
Lady Lidiac had a smile on her face that was different. Mella could see she had changed, but she knew something had happened. Although Lady Lidiac’s face was painted, hiding the scratches, Mella could see the finger shaped bruising around her neck. The other Ingostles were smiling as well, but she could see it in their eyes, they had gone through something as well. Mella’s smile still grew bigger though and Brant and General Westwood slipped out while Mella was distracted with the Ingostles.
“General, I’d like to let you know that General Glynn suspects that I killed Khyro.” Brant whispered to the general as they stepped out of the room.
“Then why did he invite you?”
“He still thinks I should be respected for what I’ve done before I was excommunicated.”
“I see he officially took your lieutenant badge.” The General said, gazing at the empty spot on his uniform.
“No, I handed it to him, but he told me to keep the uniform.”
“Quite a man. Maybe he’ll be more lenient on what I tried telling General Khyro. He doesn’t seem one to hold so much greed as his old leader.”
“Well, I’ve got more than General Glynn, I’ve got Rohanna.” Brant reminded.
“And?”
“She has connections much stronger than we because, you know, I was excommunicated. She may help so we may never get another war like this again.”
“I can’t say never get another war. There are always going to be wars, but never as terrible as this one.” General Westwood clarified.
Brant shook his head, “we just can’t let her know, no matter what, let her know it was really her who ended the war. Or how she ended the war.”
General Westwood rubbed the back of his head and peeked through the door, but he couldn’t see her amidst the fifteen red dresses surrounding her. There was a few Ingostles who had no intention of visiting, but they were too far in they wouldn’t be able to overhear the conversation between the General and the ex-soldier. General Westwood grabbed Brant’s arm and pulled him a little further from the door just in case and looked to make sure nobody else was eavesdropping such as doctors or nurses. He then quickly gave Brant full eye contact.
“I’ve been struggling to keep this from you, but I’ve also struggled trying to find the time to tell you this. The man, you know the other who was with you and the General?” General Westwood said.
“Yes.”
“When Mella had… stabbed the general. The knife was left on the ground. Before I was taken by the medics with Mella and General Khyro… the man had reached over and wrenched the knife from my grasp.”
“Did Pike see who killed him?”
“No, there was too much going on, he was running with the medics, he didn’t see anything. However, the knife could be proof. It has both Mella and my finger marks so we would be both sentenced of this murder. It would narrow down and I don’t want to see my daughter in prison.”
“I thought you said you had it? Now he has it?” Brant asked.
“That’s the problem. We need to get the knife from him.”
“That was five days ago, Pike would surely have already taken it to be inspected.”
“He was a confused man and a lot has happened with ranking ceremonies and trying to put things together of how the war ended, he was probably the main culprit of it all, I doubted he would have had time. Also, I doubt at the time it was his thought. It’s not over the news yet, so it would be better to find it or it may be too late.”
“What if it’s too late now, it doesn’t have to be on the news to make it too late. They might already have the evidence and we may not know it yet.” General Westwood patted Brant’s back.
“Then I suggest you should probably get going.”
“What about you?”
“I never said I wasn’t coming. My car is in the front, we will go now. I should have told you sooner, but so much has happened, the words hadn’t come out yet until now.”
“Then let’s go then.”
Brant and General Westwood rushed out of the hospital, approaching the General’s blue truck. As Brant hopped in the front seat next to the General, General Westwood slapped a pistol on his lap.
“Let’s go get that knife.”
General Westwood hit the gas, shooting out of the parking lot towards Pike’s house.
Chapter 20- The Lady Inside
Brant knew where Pike lived because as a Major, he had a house right next door to General Khyro’s home. It was a large home, decorated with expensive stone and woodwork. They approached the double doors and Brant knocked, knowing if General Westwood knocked, it would probably break the door down.
The door opened within a couple of minutes, a tiny woman at the door. The sun was just setting, the sky a purple and pink with tiny hints of blue left. Surrounding the house seemed to silhouette, even the two men at the door were dark from the light silhouetting them from behind.
“Hello, are you Pike’s wife?” General Westwood asked.
“I am indeed, how can I help you two?”
She was from Mella’s country, as her accent was very obvious.
“Is your husband here?”
“Well…” she looked on the side of her for just a brief moment, but when Brant leaned over to see where she was looking, she whipped her head back over, “I’m afraid not, but would you like to come in, I’ve got some herbal tea on the stove?”
“We’re actually okay, but thank you.” General Westwood said politely, but Brant was distracted at the side of the house.
He started to walk off the porch, slowly making his way across the side of the house.
“NO please, I’ve got plenty. I made too much, I would love for you to have some inside.” She begged, the tone of desperation in her voice.
“We are fine, really.” General Westwood said, seeing Brant slowly slipping away by the corner of his eye.
Pike’s wife, with the suspicion deep in her eyes, refused to leave her sight on the General. Taking in a gasp of panic reached over and snatched the General's arm.
“Just for a moment, a couple of minutes?”
Several moments ago, Brant was just barely slipping off the porch as if he was desperate to return back to the truck. However, now he was clearly on the side of the house, and just as General Westwood looked over, the spy slipped around the corner. He whipped his glance back at the woman, her hand still clamping firmly around his arm.
“Brant is already leaving, we’ve got a girl in the hospital to get to but-”
The woman pulled the general in just as he saw two silhouettes trample each other on the side of the house. He didn’t know which one was Brant, but he didn’t have time to think before he was pulled into the house.
“It’s my sister's special raspberry tea, you’ll love it.” She said, immediately approaching the stove but keeping an eye on the General.
“I really do have-” but the wife had already placed a mug of tea in his hands, “uh...thank you.”
Although he didn’t drink it. He was hoping Brant could handle doing all of this on his own, but he was desperate to leave and find out. The man’s wife just sat there across from him, holding her cup of tea, but she didn’t drink either. She just stared at him, her eyes, although not in any sense beautiful, were bouncing back and forth on General Westwood’s. Her tactic seemed to work in an unusual way, the General feeling uncomfortable but feeling like he couldn’t leave anywhere. Her silent intimidation left him glued to his seat.
“So what did you need of my husband?” She snapped, her focus not even changing a bit.
“Just some business stuff, but I was just going to come back if he wasn’t here.”
“Business? What kind of business?” She asked before General Westwood could even managed to finish his sentence.
“From work.”
“I’ve seen you before. You aren’t on our side, you’re from the Hechz Republic.”
“Indeed.”
“So what do you need of my husband?” She asked again. She seemed to have all of her words played out in her head, ready to continue a conversation to keep him remaining in his seat. She didn’t even need to speak with her alternative tactic of her death stare.
She was obviously stalling, but it seemed like the General had no other choice but to stay to avoid hurting her. So he remained, his hands on the table not even bothering to a sip. He could smell the raspberry, the smell refreshing and sweet, but his intention wasn’t to visit. Pike’s wife was keeping only one of the two men who arrived at her home, the other was probably beating Pike up in the driveway.
Meanwhile, Brant had pinned the man to the ground, Pike clutching a plastic bag with the knife in it. His hand gripped the bag with his life, but Brant would do whatever he could do to wrench it out.
“What were you going to do with that?” Brant snapped.
“N-nothing, sir.”
“Were you going to take it in, find out who really killed the general? I understand there’s no proof until you hand over the knife. They may find the fingerprints on it, that’s probably what you’re up to huh?”
“N-n-no sir.” Pike said, large beads of sweat had already trickled down the pale man's face, “I-I had merely forgotten about it until now.. I j-just decided to toss it. It-it’s useless to me.”
Brant pressed more weight on his arms, making the man wince.
“Stop lying, I already know. Plus, wouldn’t your own fingerprints be on it since you were the one who snatched it?”
“Th-they know I wasn’t in the room.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s the proof?”
The man hesitated, there wasn’t any proof.
“I know it was the girl, I didn’t see it, but you were unconscious when I entered that room and General Westwood was in an odd spot.”
“He could have wrapped his arm around to pierce his back.”
“At the same time General K-Khyro stabbed him with the sheath of the knife? I don’t think so.”
“Did you see Khyro stab him with the sheath?”
“No, but I heard it from General Westwood. General Khyro tried to kill him with the girls knife and it just… ended up to be the sheath.”
“What else did you hear?”
“That’s all I... heard, sir.”
“I could have easily stabbed him on the back too as well, you don’t know when I fell unconscious.”
“Yes, but nobody knows when you were knocked unconscious, it could have been long before the General was stabbed.”
“You could be very wrong, sir. There was no proof that I was unconscious that long, he could have knocked me out after I had stabbed him.”
“But there’s no proof.”
“Exactly, so why would you suspect her? She was merely trying to get out because she was seriously injured and sick, I wouldn’t think she would even have the strength to do such a thing.”
The man pointed at the bag with his eyes.
“Look how sharp that is? Even a child could have stabbed him with a single poke.”
“There. Is. No. Proof! Why would you suspect her?”
“You’re getting defensive for one thing. If you would have killed him, you wouldn’t have chased after me to get the knife, you wouldn’t have cared.” Pike said, his fear had turned sincere, he knew what he was saying, “But Cromella, the General’s daughter, I see how you look at her, I see how you want to help her. The desperation to keep her alive. She would be the only reason why you’re here.”
“I vowed to protect her.”
“It’s more than just protection.” Pike spat, then, his lips defining every word, he finished saying, “You love her.”
Brant’s law jocked and within seconds, he had snatched the bag from his hands and held him up against the wall, one hand holding the knife with the bag still wrapped around it and the other hand pressed hard on his chest.
“I thought you said you weren’t a killer.” Pike said, his hands pressed against the wall.
Although the knife was still in the bag, it didn’t matter, it would easily pierce through the bag to stab into the man’s body. Pike had no fear, he merely looked at him, merely wishing for the knife back with no harm done.
“I’ve killed people in my life for the sake of saving hundreds. This is doing just the same.”
“Who would this save? Yourself? Because, If it was you that killed him you wouldn’t be acting this way.”
“You’re a smart man, but not smart enough.” Brant snapped, holding the knife closer to his neck. Pike lifted his head, naturally trying to avoid the blade from touching his open skin.
“How so?”
“Alright, do you want to know what you’ve wanted to hear from me?” Brant released the man, “the general killed him. I watched him do it. I’m getting defensive because if the general gets hurt, it hurts his daughter too… and it hurts the country.”
“Are you protecting the other country? Ha, I never regretted excommunicating you, Brant. You betrayed us all.”
Brant pulled away from the man, still holding the knife. The anger had built up, but Brant merely heaved a sigh and took a step back. Pike moved just a moment, but the knife was still pointing towards him and Pike realized the fight wasn’t over.
“It doesn’t matter to me anymore.” Brant said, then he leaned forward into Pike’s face, “I can move on with my life without being in the military. Plus, I’ve got what I needed. A necessary thing.”
Brant gripped the hilt tighter and with a grin he ran off back to the truck where moment later, The Hzech General ran to the wheel. The man standing there, holding his chest as he watched the truck drive off with a screech down his street. He would have chased after, but he knew he had already lost. It didn’t just have Mella’s finger marks on it, it also had Brants when he had looked at the knife some hours before, General Westwoods when he had pulled it out of General Khyro’s chest, and, as for the most recent, it also had Pike’s distinct fingerprints on its hilt. It would be worthless to take it in for proof anyway. He thought it was a great idea before, but Brant was right, he wasn’t as smart as he thought. He would be considering himself as a suspect if he would have taken it in.
Pike slammed his fist on the stone wall of his house in anger, the sun releasing its last rays of orange sunlight before disappearing into the mountains.
Mella hadn’t felt this happy for a long time, to see all these glimmering faces of Ingostles. It was like being home outside of home. They had been talking about what Mella was doing while she was missing, but as she finished up to the point where she couldn’t remember, she wanted to ask some questions to Lady Lidiac and possibly the others.
“Lady Lidiac?”
“Yes, dear?” Lady Lidiac responded.
“I understand you’ve had an adventure of your own. I don’t think the bruising on your neck was an accident.” Lady Mella mentioned.
“Indeed, Lady Mella. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for this bruise.” Lady Lidiac sat at the foot of the bed and spent the next several minutes explaining what happened from the time of trying to find ways to find Mella to being pillaged by Khyro’s soldiers. She explained of disguising as a soldier and locking the unconscious one insdie a closet and then watching the people of Polei. She explained how she would have been killed if she hadn’t disguised and because Syn had held her outside of the room at that time and choked her, it allowed another man to claim the death of General Khyro and the freedom of the People of Polei and the Ingostles. Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie described their story of their search for Mella and Mella watched them intrigued, feeling loved that they had spent that time to search for her.
“We went with you on the ambulance.” Lady Mgee said.
“It broke our hearts after we realized it was you being sent to the hospital, not even sure if you would survive or not.” Lady Eliquie added.
“And that’s where it led us to here.” Lady Lidiac explained, “I brought the people of Polei into Rumbeig where they are safe. The city is trying to help them with homes and jobs and as they were taken care of, I gathered up the Ingostles and we gave a group hug. It was all in tears of joy and sorrow, the sorrow of our missing Ingostle and the loss of dozens of citizens from the people of Polei.
“Mella, I can’t tell you how worried I was.” Lady Lidiac continued, trying not to cry, “when I realized they took you, I desperately wanted to go out and find you, but we were not allowed to leave Polei once they bombed your jeep. Lady Mgee and Lady Eliquie were especially generous and went off to find you. Sadly, I was unable to come. Although, when they had allowed us to leave Polei about a week since you had been missing, I had a visit with Lady Truly at the Ingostle church here.
“Although she tried to keep it secret, we had a private meeting about it. I was both grateful and discouraged to find you in the hospital. Lady Mella, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you. I promised to Lady Amalla that I would take care of you. I told her that she wouldn’t get into any danger and she would be safe with me. Lady Amalla was deeply concerned about you going, but you were so stubborn stu destinedabout going and you had set a goal to see your dad. It wasn’t until after you left that she realized that you were going to look for a father who was taken captive by General Khyro himself.
“I wanted to keep you busy, refrain you from wandering off to get into danger. That was, until you left with the boy. When your jeep was bombed and you just ended up being forced to leave the country, it broke my heart because I left you to go off alone. Why on Earth would you choose to find your dad after you had been seriously injured and away from your Ingostle group? Why didn’t you tell anyone that he was the captured General?”
“That was all I came for, Lady Lidiac. I love service and I love my religion, but my mother lied to me, it was too hard to leave my dad without knowing if he was okay or not.” Mella responded.
Lady Lidiac patted Mella’s hands.
“I”m just grateful you’re okay, but please, don’t do that again”
Mella laughed, but it caused a heavy cough to come after. A look of deep concern grew on Lady Lidiac’s face until it settled and Mella took a breath.
“I don’t ever plan to. Ever. My dream was to be an Ingostle. I wanted to let you know that when I first joined this church, I thought I would reach my dream and I would be happy. But I wasn’t. I didn’t feel like a Lady, I didn’t feel respected, I didn’t feel beautiful. I don’t think lady Amalla told you this, but I cried on the day of my coronation and it was the next day when I found out my father was captured. It wasn’t a good beginning for me, Lady Lidiac. I wanted to start over, but even if I had never found out about my father, I would still be miserable. I didn’t know how to show what I wanted. I needed a different goal to find out who I was. That was when this service project came up, that was when I realized I needed to do it, to find my dad. I hoped it would help me not only find my dad and get out of my misery, but to maybe discover more about myself.
“And I did.
“Lady Lidiac. I can’t tell you how amazing I feel right now no matter if I am sick and am still seriously injured. I feel like I accomplished something, not only by saving my dad, but I saved myself. For once, through all my adult life and a few weeks of being an Ingostle, I finally feel like a Lady.”
Chapter 21- The Departure
The Ingostles left the following day, the two weeks over for them to return back home to their Ingostle churches. Cromella had to stay, her body not well enough to take a flight back. As soon as the doctors would release her, she and her father would go home. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would work it all out. She had still set her life to be an Ingostle, but she wanted her family too. It was a hard decision to make while she had the extra time to think it through.
While she continued to spend her time in the hospital, she could feel her body antsy to leave, she wanted to be an Ingostle that she was meant to be, but instead, she was a hospital patient unable to even leave her room. Brant and General Westwood continued their frequent visits, keeping up with her and her life. She really got to know what her father did in the military and he got to know what she did living alone with her mother, it was wonderful to know more about her father more than she ever did. As for Brant, he liked to remain his secret spying journeys a secret, but he talked about his brother a lot, of his own family and his personal interests besides the job of a spy.
Rohana visited as well, speaking to Mella as a friend and getting to know her. Through all that Brant had said to her on the train, they seemed to be bond well, becoming closer friends.
Although, between all of this, thoughts of what to do when she got home and her life there was heavy in her head. There was also another thought. A thought she didn’t want to consider, as she had set her life as an Ingostle, a virgin. She never considered becoming such great friends to Brant. Mella thought of Brant a lot. Brant vowed his life to keep her safe and it made Mella appreciate him more than just a friend.
It was just a day with her and Brant. Her father was at a military meeting and Brant was alone with her. It got to things she wouldn’t have ever thought and it was hard, but she needed to let him know.
“Mella, I don’t know how it’s going to be like without you in my life. You’ve become someone I’ve wanted to protect instead of being commanded to protect. If you stay here, you could be with me. If you ever want to go to your country, we’ll move there, but I don’t want to leave your sight. You’ve become… a necessary part of my life” Brant explained, Mella and Brant sitting at the foot of her hospital bed.
“Brant… I can’t.”
Brant dropped his head.
“I’ve set my entire life to be an Ingostle.” Mella added.
“You can go to the church here, be a follower-”
“Brant.”
He heaved a sigh. He looked over the streaming light window, nodding.
“I understand.”
“An Ingostle is my life, I vowed to never marry, to keep my Ingostle standards, follow the book of Shei. You have been wonderful to me, I can’t tell you how eternally grateful I have been to have you in my life. You have helped me, encouraged me, guided me… healed me.”Brant looked back at her, “Because of you, I have realized who I was. Really. I have never met such a gentleman such as you. Because of your attributes, I know there will be someone who is desperately searching for a man like you to marry. You’ll find the girl, you’ll swoop her in your arms just like you did to me. You’ll find her, I promise you.”
It was a hard night for the both of them. Brant knew he wouldn’t be able to have Mella forever like he wanted, but he told himself he would visit her frequently whenever he got the chance. Mella knew it broke his heart, but her life was to be an Ingostle and she had made that decision years ago before she even became a fully committed one. When she’s called a fully committed Ingostle, she’s got to keep her standards.
It was about two days later when Mella was dressed in her full Ingostle attire heading to the airport with her father. Brant did not come along, but he bid her a long farewell as she hopped into her father’s blue truck to be taken on the plane. When they had reached it, Mella struggled to refrain from crying.
The plane had arrived on time and before she knew it, she was on the plane on the way back home. Although her father was at her side, sitting on the plane was a mixture of emotions. It upset her to leave like that from Brant, a true friend to her, but she would be able to see her Ingostle friends, to see Hellany. To see her mother.
Brant returned home when she left, his heart broken, but he was also happy for her, to be finally coming home safe. He sat in a more finished apartment, digging Mella’s knife into the wood of the table. He didn’t really know what else to do with his life. Mella was gone and he wasn’t busy with his job. He decided to settle in an actual home, thus the apartment room he bought. Although, between settling into a home of his own, he felt he had lost a large chunk of his life and threw it in the flames. Like his life bled out and stuck to the knife that killed General Khyro.
As Brant remained sitting there in unbelief of his lost life, his cell phone rang from his pocket. It took him a moment to react to it, but as the ring continually started to buzz in his pocket, he reached over and pulled it out, holding it to his ear.
“Hello?” He answered, still playing with the knife.
“Is this Brant?”
“Yes. I’m driving home from work, I’m just wondering if I could visit you.”
Brant instinctively looked over at the clock, but he was on any time crunch. He had no appointments, no time to be anywhere else. He was open all day and probably all week and a tiny part of him crushed inside. He turned back to his knife.
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
There was no question who it was. He knew it was Rohana, coming home from training her aerospace men in the air force. She arrived in the few minutes like she said.
“Where’s your daughter?” He asked as he handed Rohana a cup of coffee.
“I don’t usually take her to work, Brant. I have a nanny that takes care of her while I’m gone. I just got some thoughts while coming home and I’d thought to talk to you before I came back to my baby.”
“Is it about Tean?”
Rohana nodded, sitting down at the table in front of him.
“One of the men brought it up and it… well, he asked some personal questions that really put a downer on me. I mean, you saw how defensive I was when you asked personal questions on that train, well, I was tempted to slap him too... but I refrained. I cried on the way here though, so…”
“You had to go and vent to someone, I understand.” Brant finished.
Rohana sniffed, wiping a tear just barely falling down her face.
“It always makes you feel better. It’s so hard when you're all grown up and less and less of people you once knew become close friends. Tean was always the one I vented to, but ever since he left me, it has been increasingly hard to me. I’ve just been forced to keep things to myself.”
“We haven’t known each other too long. What gave you the inquiry to come to me?”
“Long enough, though. I just wanted to let you know that you are so much like Tean, that’s why I wanted to speak to you. Because it’s like I’m talking to him again. You have attributes of your own and I love them too, but it’s just how how you talk, how you walk, your personality, and… how polite you are. It just makes me think of Tean. Did you learn that from your dad?”
“No, our mother taught us how to be gentleman.”
Rohana smiled.
“That’s nice. I realized, after the train, that you were much more than I thought. You just have so much potential and love in you... I just want a part of Tean back in my home again.”
“Why don’t you then?”
“Because all that is left is me and my daughter. I’ve just learned to live without him.”
Brant considered what she said for a moment. He then struck the knife into the table and stood up. He gazed down at her, the looks of sorrow and love in her eyes, then he sat back down.
“Alright, tell me, Rohana, tell me everything.”
“Well… you’ve heard it all before. He told me about Tean and everything and at first I seemed okay, but then he started telling me that I shouldn’t have ever married him. He told me that he was a miserable careless man who barely knew how to even fly a plane yet he was a Major, so I wouldn’t know why he would be bad at flying. I had seen him fly, I didn’t believe him, yet, he was so sincere, so firm about it. Like he knew. I tried to not let it bother me, but it was everything else he told me that just made me crushed inside. He spent at least half an hour ranting and ranting about my husband and then he marched off. I don’t know how I held it in, but as soon as I ran off to the car, I was already in tears.
“He’s a horrible man. He better choke on what he told me, I hope he will regret it, but even will he apologize, he can’t take it back. It will forever be embedded in my head. It just hurt me to know that Tean wasn’t there to defend me. That man did the worst thing imaginable and I wanted to slap him. I wanted to punch him square in the face and- what are you doing?”
Brant had stood up again and had opened one of his kitchen drawers, pulling out a spool of wire and wire cutters. He returned back to the table and snipper about two inches of wire. There he wrapped it into a ring and twisted the ends until it left a little ball.
“You’re not going to-”
“Do you want that part of Tean in your home or not?” Brant asked as he stood in front of her.
She looked at him in both confusion and awe.
“That’s all I want, Brant.”
Brant knelt one knee.
“Then marry me, Rohana. I’ll be your Tean.”
Mella arrived at the airport with jet lag and excitement. There was two cars
awaiting for them. One was the car that belong to the Empress Cromella felt like she hadn’t seen for months and the other was her mother.
Although, she had already made her decision. She would go with Lady Amalla, the car with her mother was for her father. She would visit him, but her choice was to be in the church.
Before approaching Lady Amalla, Cromella approached her mother. Mrs. Westwood was covering her mouth, her face shining in tears of joy. She was already running towards Mella when she reached her arms around her daughter.
“Oh Mella, if I would’ve known… I’m sorry I’ve lied to you. I had no idea until just recently... when I saw it on the news.” Her mother cried, soaking Mella’s sleeve in her tears.
Mella was expecting her to keep crying, but she looked over at her husband and a gleam grew on her tearing face. General Westwood was going to hug her as well, but Mella’s mother would not allow it. She walked closer to her husband, grabbed the collar of his uniform and kissed him.
Mella gleamed as well, but then she turned over to Lady Amalla, her arms open wide for a hug as well. Cromella was a woman now, although it was pleasant to hug her mother, she had moved on. Lady Amalla had already walked over to Mella. She gave more of a formal hug, her gentle arms wrapping around Mella.
“Oh, Lady Cromella, how I’ve missed you.” She said as she dug her face in Mella’s shoulder.
Hellany was there too, but she stood by the car with her hands neatly overlapping in front of her. Mella opened her arms for the servant girl and she approached her.
“Welcome home, Lady Mella.”
“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind. I’ve prefer Lady Westwood, the rightful way to be called as an Ingostle.”
“Very well then, Lady Westwood,” Hellany said with a hearty laugh, “now let’s get you home.”