Chapter 5

Brown-yellow clouds. They didn’t seem to hang there, or float; they certainly did not dance. The clouds slouched in the sky, as if they too were fed up with the drab scenery. There’s a beautiful blue sky behind me, I think, they seemed to grumble, we haven’t seen it in so long either, perhaps it's no longer there. I’m sorry. Not even the wind moved them.

Lillia traced the sickly horizon. From up on the hill, anywhere was visible. Well, that’s not exactly true anymore. The powerful buildings of Lower Lisium had vanished into the clouds. A whole town, previously a glance away, gone. Lillia had never been to Lower Lisium. For all she knows, it could no longer exist. But she doubts that. Lower Lisium isn’t like Herafel, that is, it’s too expensive to leave to become dust. Lillia thought to herself for a brief moment. What would life be like to have lived over there? Would it have been better? Perhaps she could have experienced electricity, a wondrous new magic that makes things work. She erased the thought. No point wondering. It wasn’t reality.

The further west she looked, the deeper the yellow and brown became. Stronger. Clouds packed so tightly they almost block out the sun. Eventually, all the colour drained into a defeated black.

“Lisabethium,” Lillia sighed. She rested her hand on the great withered tree — now merely a stump of dying wood. The bark crumbled beneath her palm, silently becoming dust.

Smog from the capital gets pulled this way. For those east of Lisabethium, the smoke had become a part of their life. The younger children, not even old enough to know any difference. Lillia did. She was lucky, in that way. It had been so long ago. The very first memories she found in her mind: her sister carrying her on this very hill. They stood in the shade of the tree’s canopy, its branches swaying gently. Thalia said something, smiled, and turned little Lillia around to see the view. Lillia couldn’t recall every detail, but she knew she saw a clear blue sky — the colour was ingrained in her mind.

Lillia glanced back at the yellow clouds. A twang of nostalgia hit her heart. There’s so much she needs, so much she wants, but if she could only see that scenery again… Yeah. Lillia smiled solemnly to herself. That would be enough.

The streets of Herafel were, to put it lightly, dreadful. Many of them weren’t even paved. Just little dirt roads, devoid of anything that could remotely resemble pleasant scenery. Lillia already missed the escape of the hill, but she couldn’t stay up there forever. Time doesn’t stand still and she had a meeting to attend.

Now, was it still a meeting if the other attendee isn’t aware a meeting is about to take place? Lillia pondered that question, a distraction from the other, more pressing questions. She didn’t want to think about it too much — it would either make her angry or she’d talk herself out of it. Two things she did not want. Thalia’s life is at stake here, no, not only Thalia, but her baby, too. Lillia had to have this meeting. She had to at least try.

Lillia exited onto the main street, a breath of fresh (somewhat polluted) air. The pavement made for a more enjoyable stroll, and the still standing houses were nice to look at. In fact, this was the most beautiful part of Herafel, which isn’t saying much, but still. The path was made up of zigzagging red bricks, a pattern that was almost nice to look at. Lillia’s feet discovered the unevenness, which they did not react great to. Parts stuck up, others dipped down. Unless focusing on your steps, the path guarantees that you will at least stumble once. It also had the added effect of damaging Lillia’s already flimsy shoes. She cursed under her breath and continued onwards, glancing at her steps from now on.

The town square quickly approached. From here, groups of people became common. A boy kicking a ball against the only remaining wall of the old school, an old couple sitting on a bench. They looked dreadful. Lillia moved on quickly. A body slammed into her, she staggered backwards. The culprit, a snivelling man, didn’t take any notice and scurried away.

“HEY! Fuck you!” Lillia called out. She dusted off her shoulders, sighed deeply and carried on, not before almost tripping over the pavement again.

Market stalls pondered in a sparse town centre. A woman sold some odd looking vegetables, no doubt home grown. Lillia, if she had remembered to bring a couple coins, would have brought a carrot at least — though on closer inspection the woman's carrots seemed to curl up like a snail’s shell. No grumbling stomach wanted to unravel that mystery.

How long had it been since she ate, anyway? She looked up. The clouds were now a faded brown. Afternoon. She’d had a couple slices of bread for breakfast — that was before the King’s parade. She’d survive until the evening. It’s not like food was guaranteed anyway, Lillia had gone a whole week without eating before, back during the food shortage. Has that ended now? Lillia found herself asking more and more random questions, it kept her from what she actually wanted to think about.

Nan. Thalia. The mayor. How could she convince—

No.

Lillia refused to question herself. She simply would. In the moment, she’d find a way.

Chanting and a strong voice brought her back to the present. A elderly man held a sign, surrounded by other elderly people. They looked pissed off. Lillia scoffed. Of course they were, there’s not a shortage of things to be annoyed about.

“THE MAYOR IS A DISGRACE!” the man bellowed, “NO, Ha ha, NOT JUST HIM, THE WHOLE LOT OF ‘EM! WE DESERVE BETTER!”

No shit, Lillia chuckled to herself. She wondered if her nan knew these people, they seemed like her type of friends. Possible, though also improbable, her nan did most of her protests in the big city. Lisabethium. She marched with crowds of people, this here was simply a small gaggle.

Lillia approached the protestors. “Hey, want me to say anything to the man himself?”

The man pricked his eyebrow up. “Seeing the ol’ mayor, are you?”

“Yeah, not by choice though. Necessity.”

“Ah.” The man nodded, smiling, waiting for Lillia to elaborate. Old people loved gossip, at least, that’s what she had deduced.

“My sister,” Lilla placed her hands in her pockets and looked at the ground, “she’s nine months pregnant, literally almost ready to have the child, and — guess what? Her parental benefits have been plucked out of her hands!”

The gaggle growned. One elderly woman shook her head with sympathy.

“So, I’m going to have a little chat. Doubt it will do much.”

“Na, don’t say that,” the man placed his hand on Lillia’s shoulder. She fought back the instinct to throw it off. “I feel for you and your sister, you can only try, in the end.”

“Yeah,” Lillia agreed.

“Those bloodsuckers are greedy and moralless,” he continued, “your best chance, sadly, is to play to his wants. Say it would look good for his re-election or some shit — heh, sorry for the language.”

Lillia glanced up at his sign. It read: Freedom or Death? Which would you choose? The youngest of the gaggle, who was still at least fifty, also held a sign, only it was smaller and less visible. It simply read: Death to the Tories!

Lillia nodded at the smaller sign. “Should I tell him that?”

The man laughed. “Doubt he’d be too happy.”

“Yeah, though, you know, I don’t think I care how he feels at the end of the day.”

The gaggle cheered. The man laughed. “You and me both.”

“Well,” Lillia concluded, “I’m off now.”

The man bid his farewells, wishing her luck. She walked on, smiling. A new sense of confidence rose in her bones. She wasn’t alone. Even today, people continue to fight. Her nan was wrong. Nobody gave up. The fire she talked about still burns strong — if not in everyone — at least inside those elderly and Lillia’s own heart.