Maya began to wonder if it was really the right decision to have chosen to sleep in the same room as Rei. She did not want to sleep alone, but perhaps depriving Rei from privacy wasn’t the best solution to it, although it didn’t really matter anymore. Rei was already in bed.

Two beds were positioned on the opposite cream walls, both with a closet at the foot and a desk beside. Orange lanterns reflected their warm light among blue shadows, and Maya swore that she had never been this drowsy in a long time. She felt oddly soothed, and amazingly relaxed as if her situation could not get any better.

She sat down on one of the beds and ran her hand along the soft blanket. Fur and soft grass needles tickled her palm, and she couldn’t help but giggle. She lay down the bed.

Apparently, her restlessness caused Rei to shift in her sleep. She turned to Maya and her open black eyes eyed her from a hazy blanket.

“Sorry,” said Maya. “It’s my first time in a room like this. I always sleep in a hammock.”

Rei blinked. “It is alright.”

The silence that pursued after placed the two ladies in a predicament of awkwardness. The night was young, but Folke said that they would be travelling during the early morn and so they might as well get some sleep. However, as sleepy as Maya was, she still wanted to somehow talk to the mysterious Rei and break the ice with her. If she was going to be forced to talk to her during travels anyway, might as well start now.

“What do you think about all this?” Maya finally asked. “About this… rebel thing, you know? It’s just crazy to think that Osreon is really breaking apart.”

There was hesitation. “I do not think much of it. I am merely joining the Resistance because Sir Folke asked me to.”

“Why? You owe him something?”

“Yes, if you put it that way.” Rei lowered the blankets from her head. “But, I do not mind it. He found me, and he gave me a purpose. He will give me a home.”

Maya’s eyebrows furrowed. The Resistance never really striked her as home material, but she could never know what Rei has been through. Perhaps for Rei, anything would be home, even if it was a place where you would have to isolate yourself from your own government. For Maya though, the Kingfisher would always be her home no matter where she ends up in. Mister Castel is her home, and she was getting homesick.

“Hey, can I ask?” Maya said. “You said Mister Folke found you. You’re lost?”

She looked away. “Yes… Very lost…”

Everything muted. Maya took the hint and knew that it was time to stop probing. Rei probably had as much things to think about as Maya, and a good night’s sleep and silence always did the trick. She finally closed her eyes then, and after a short prayer to the gods, she fell into a deep lull.

*

*

*

His name was Isaac, and he felt like dying.

The room he stood in gleamed pure white—the walls, the floor, and even the highest reach of the ceiling. Although there were accents of black, red, and gold, they didn’t help lessen the burn on his eyes from the super blinding reflections.

Even the furniture was a ghastly white. The end desks, shelves, chairs were all glossed white wood, making everything look like a stupid game of chess with only one player. To add to Isaac’s headache was the long table that stretched on in the center of the room, seating ten old men that he could not stand. They were the Council of Rules, and they all looked at him with various levels of criticism.

It was fortunate that Isaac was a master at straight faces. If not, his sour face could get him dismissed on the spot.

“So,” said the man at the very end of the table. His grey hair was cropped short and his eyes glinted death to everyone’s attentive faces. As if having the name Curio was not curious enough, he allowed himself the oddity of a monocle and the misfortune of being short. “How was your investigations on the Youngblood Resistance, Isaac? Went well, I take.”

Isaac nodded. “I was able to track down a member.” He held the investigation papers in his hand and scanned over it. “Seems like he bought quite a lot of gun powder from our stores. It was a day before the bombing in Oxford Bay happened, and coincidentally, the rebel attack was right after our attack on Greencall.”

Curio huffed. “Just a coincidence, I see.”

Isaac tried not to react. “Yes. I’ve double checked—there was no possibility of information leak about our bombing on Greencall. The rebel who bought the gun powder was last seen entering Mossmore, a small village to the north. He was not seen to leave it yet.”

Curio nodded, looking satisfied about the report. “Anything more about the rebel?”

A little pang of doubt passed through Isaac. He felt apprehensive about having to reveal this information, especially that it was so utterly ridiculous. Gold eyes were near impossible, but all his informants seemed to identify the rebel through those characteristics.

No matter. Curio did not need to know that. This was Isaac’s job anyway, and Curio would not need the information. “That’s all,” he said.

A honeyed smile plastered on to Curio’s face. “Good! I’ve now reached a decision!” He crossed his hands. “We need new trainings grounds for new recruits, especially up there in the north. I reckon Mossmore sounds like the best place, no? Trees and all. We could also hunt down that rebel. A nice plan, two birds and one Isaac. Very capable man, don’t you all think?” He turned his head to each member of the Council of Rules, shooting everyone a smile. Everyone smiled back, their faces forced or else they lose their necks.

Isaac didn’t smile, though. It was going to happen again.

Curio was the one who ordered for Greencall to get bombed, the only reason being that a family in there housed a few members of a smaller rebellion. He was a sick man, and Isaac was burdened by the thought that he would have to conform to his sick orders. He knew what was coming.

“Isaac, boy,” Curio said, his voice sweet but hidden behind it was a rotting dark intention. “Burn Mossmore down for me.”

It wasn’t a request.

Isaac nodded his head, heart heavy. He did not let his stone-cold face waver, though. To show any reaction to what these old men would say was a lost—he didn’t want them to have the satisfaction of seeing that Isaac was affected by them.

Curio’s lips once again twitched into a smile. “You are dismissed.”

Isaac bowed and walked out of the white room. He walked with great posture, although his shoulders felt heavy with a burden. Before he stepped out of the door, though, he made sure to whisper something under his breath. Gods curse you.

He continued his way out of the door, and with one final show of his back, he slammed it behind him.

“I do not like that face,” said a girl, lounging on the floor in front of the Council room. Her deep pink dyed hair caught his eye first, then the makeup that considerably changed her face, and lastly the Military uniform, unbuttoned jacket, and the wrong shirt. “Curio gonna give an order?”

Isaac sighed and rubbed his nape. “Lilac, why in the world are you not wearing the proper attire? No one’s excluded from the rules.”

Lilac grunted as she stood up. “Whatever. Operation Exodus once again? Yeah, your face says so. How many?”

“It’ll just be us this time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Romantic. How are we gonna execute that?”

Isaac started to stride his way out through the bland hallways. “I’m going to request for the new weapon. It’s a great chance to test the prototype.” Whitewashed walls reflected whitewashed light that shone through metal-guarded windows. Big ceramic vases adorned the floor every ten meters or so, and each one was a horrible arrangement of gaudy flowers.

Lilac ran to catch up with him. “I swear, Isaac! Just request for help! What does it matter if the men hate you?”

“The men don’t just hate me, Lilac. They despise me. They’d rather die disobeying me than live to follow my orders.”

“I’d do that too! But did that stop you from doing your job so well?”

“It cost me my sanity, Lilac.”

“Doesn’t matter. You never had that from the start.”

If Lilac wasn’t his long-time friend, he would have reprimanded her on the spot for her delinquent personality. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t want to do that to her, as annoying as she was. She may not be the friendliest person to have a conversation with, but he trusted her, and she trusted him, and on the battlefield, they were unstoppable.

Instead, Isaac just didn’t bother to reply. He had work to do, and he wanted it done by tomorrow.

*

*

*

There were perks that came with being the youngest person to become colonel in the Military. One was that one would became extremely famous, and although it was both negative and positive, it could at least help with faster paperwork. Isaac immediately got hold of the prototype weapon concealed in a big black zipped-up bag without any problems of waiting.

He and Lilac rode for hours on the train immediately after they got the weapon. A Military automobile waited for them outside the smoky station when they exited, and for the last few hours, that was where they slept. It was already deep in the night once they were able to arrive at the outskirts of Mossmore.

“Wow,” said Lilac. She stretched her arms up. “This looks like a wonderland. A home within a forest dome.”

“Indeed,” agreed Isaac. He eyed the whole area and its giant trees, miniature houses, and flickering lanterns. He guessed that if you lived in a place like this, you wouldn’t mind not seeing the stars at night. The moonlight through the lives was enough. “A shame we’d have to burn it down. The trees won’t be able to survive this.”

Lilac pouted. “Damn. Let’s just freaking quit the Military and live here, huh?”

“Stop joking.”

She laughed. “I’ll look for a good spot for the launch.” Lilac skipped to one of the trees and awed at the big roots poking out. She then proceeded to climb the trunks, her speedy and agile body clambering its way to the top without difficulty.

While she did that, Isaac took the time to bring the prototype out of the black bag. It was a big metal cylinder that weighed as much as it looked, grey and plastered on by stickers of directions and warning signs. I guess it really is a prototype, thought Isaac as he released the trigger lock.

“Isaac, is here good?” shouted Lilac, perched on one of the high branches.

Be discreet, Lilac, he wanted to tell her, but he would have to shout as well. He instead just went over and signalled for her to get down, and she did so in the span of a few seconds.

“Here, take this.” Isaac held the prototype out for Lilac. “All you have to do is unlock the last release trigger and—”

Lilac pushed the prototype back into his arms. “Oh, no. I don’t deal with guns, sir. Stop lazing around and get up there. Don’t tell me you went through training for nothing.”

Isaac grimaced at his subordinate’s running mouth. She always did this. She’d always look for ways to humiliate him. Isaac was never a good climber, and she knew that. This time, though, he was not going to let her win at her own game.

“Are you chickening?” asked Lilac.

“I won’t do it just because you’re telling me to.” He raised his chin. “Follow your seniors, Sergeant Lilac.”

“I don’t think so. I’m filing a complaint against you and your incompetence. It’s your own mission and you won’t even do the most important part?”

Apparently, Isaac just had to let her win this time.

He glowered and fixed up his uniform. He slung the prototype over his back and started to climb, putting one hand on the crevice of the trunk. “Why are these trees so big?”

He climbed, one foot after the other, a slip here and there, but he managed to get higher and higher. Just as he predicted, Lilac was snickering down on the ground. He tried to ignore her as he positioned himself on a random thick branch.

“Hey!” Lilac called out. “That’s not the branch I picked!”

The big weapon stared back at Isaac as he thought about the soon to be destroyed village. The rebel was in here somewhere, the one described with golden eyes. Before he could hesitate, he positioned the weapon on his shoulder. Cold hauntings seeped through his jacket, but he knew that it was how it should be. No death bringer should ever be given the fortune of warmth, including himself.

“Lilac, get covered,” he finally said.

“Covered.”

Isaac stared at the village one last time, observing every lit lantern and every shadow that moved. The closest building to him was a manor that he knew he would regret burning down. He was a lover of arts and artists, but if it meant getting in the way of doing his job, he would have to let it go. The only favour he could do for the manor was to allow it to be the last to burn down since it was all a matter of trajectory. Everything would be all the same in the end anyway—burning.