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An Omen For Children Chapter 2 https://elementscommunity.org/forum/index.php?topic=57999.msg1184774#msg1184774
« on: April 04, 2015, 04:27:39 am »
Recording 2

‘Come here!’ A green-eyed man with a red bandana etched with fine tapestry vociferated at me. After all of this had occurred, I just coldly stared at him back, taking heavy but somehow mellow breaths. I felt a bit of grime in my temple and dried blood stains on the left side of my nose.

‘Come here!’ He shouted once more. I did not hinder. My heartbeat was constant and the only thing tangible was a sudden gust of boreal wind.

‘Son of a bitch…’ He murmured before approaching me and punched me hard in the face. In retaliation, I took my knife out of my holster and perforated his upper thigh while covering his mouth. A rebel from a distance took his pistol and fired at my left diaphragm, taking with it the remaining energy I had. I immediately fell face down. He quickly came and handcuffed me, pulling me up by force to join the other captives. Another two arrived lifting the injured rebel up. He didn’t dare say anything to me now.
My abductor grabbed my head and turned me around. I gave a quick sneer to my kneeling comrades of Division 33. They didn’t look up one bit. The remaining rebels then forced my peers up, their wrists cuffed, and into three different vans. I ended up with John and Alex along with four rebels. As the door was closed, we were on our way…way to…somewhere.

The feeling was identical to the ride in the jeep yesterday; bumpy paths, a bit of shaking with a low buzzing sound emitted by the van. We didn’t say anything. We couldn’t say anything. This is probably going to be a long ride. Through the awkward quietness it caused me to postulate certain questions. Other than the obvious ‘Where are they taking us?’, I have also pondered about the state of being a Pacifier. Sure my life is alright here and there, but I guess I’ve never really understood the perspectives of the citizens. They have rebelled against The Father that’s true, but does that mean what I’ve done is ethical? I’ve killed people with my bare hands.
The irony is strong here. The convicts used to be the people sitting at the back of the jeep, heavily watched by our fellow men, but now it is our turn, the ‘payback’. A time where roles switched, and now we were experiencing the fate many rebels had to endure. Possibly jailed, possibly killed, possibly tortured and then killed. Is this how it is all going to end? To be executed by a local revolutionary?

A strong whiff of alcohol effervesced the jeep as a rebel opened a glass bottle of vodka. красный смерть it wrote. ‘Krasnyy smert’ I said it in low pitch and volume, afraid of being clubbed in the head. ‘Red death.’ I looked up a bit as the rebel gazed at me, then quickly diverted his attention towards somewhere else, gulping down his drink. And then I looked at him, face tilted downward. Reddish-orange polo shirt, beige pants ripped from the knees down. He was rather skinny in figure and he was black skinned. I’m surprised to find a black skinned person around Varvara. Shouldn’t they be down south in Akordikry? I then examined closely at his face: His face was streaking with sweat and powdered by the soulless grey of the Bulgarian dust. Little irregularities form weird textures on his face like warts or pimples. His nose is flat and his lips were parched, forming cracks like an arid desert, with bits of skin half peeled, as if screaming and trying to escape. His hair was rough and black, like he was constantly exposed to dirt and grime and was in range of an explosive device. However, the thing that stood out the most was his eyes.

A thin grey layer encased the sclera of his eye like how the grey clouds covers the sky when a thunderstorm is approaching. His iris is of an earthy brown strongly contrasted by the blackness of his pupil. I tracked his eye movements for quite some time. It is as if the pupil is slowly dilating, devouring the iris. At this point, I see a streak of red or two emerging from the greyness of the sclera. He must’ve had too much of a drink. Red death. Red eyes. His iris seems to be rotating around like some sort of mysterious, magical barrier. Like some sort of portal towards another period in the past. Well, just by the look of his eyes I have the feeling that he has a lot of stories to tell…stories of the distant past.

‘Whatcha’ lookin’ at?’

‘Huh?’ I was startled.

‘I said… whatcha’ lookin’ at?’ The rebel looked at me.

‘N-Nothing sir…’

‘Liar! Don’t think I didn’t see you staring at me!’ His eyes sparked. Signs of the thunderstorm is becoming prominent.

‘Ok! Ok! I’m sorry!” I took a quick turn away from his deathly eyes and looked at John and Alex. They wanted to help but their intercession would just exacerbate the current situation.

‘Come ‘ere you!’ I was grabbed roughly by the throat. Not those set of eyes again. I swear I could envision a cataclysm emerging from that stare of his. ‘If I see you staring at me again, it would not be my hand that will grab your throat but my blade!’ He spat at me and pushed me back to my spot. The spit felt like vinegar down one’s throat. It felt corrosive. I would’ve screamed. I really wanted to scream hoping it would act as some sort of catharsis. But I didn’t. I had to stay strong. This must have been what the captured rebels have felt. Pain, but without a voice. The Pacifier has now been pacified. Even the bullet shot at my mandible in the Battle of Dubrovnik a few years back was not as painful as this.

‘Get up, loser!’ The van stopped abruptly. I uncontrollably landed on Alex’s grimy boots. I made a little muffle and raised myself. As I was about to get out of the van, the rebel pushed me and made me land side-faced on the powdery sand. I said nothing and raised myself and placed my cold palm on the sand powdered face. John and Alex slowly walked towards me, their eyes widened with fear as if they were going to be shot right at the spot. The other pacifier that was in the same jeep as us in stoppage of the rebellion, Vinnie Rhodolos along with Shaun and Mack, slowly came towards us, hands behind their backs. I didn’t mention Vinnie earlier because…well I probably should have. But he is quiet most of the time, rarely speaks. I didn’t really introduce him earlier because he is such an anticlimactic figure, it kind of spoils the suspense. But despite his character, he is also one of the most sincere people I’ve ever met. Out of all the Pacifiers and Silencer Mack here, he seemed to be the calmest and surprisingly tranquil. His gaze gave an affirmation of confidence, vigour and strength.

‘Venitu will guide us to the Caelum.’ He managed to even smile, at such a time as this. Venitu, Caelum. Those are the jargonised forms of our religious beliefs. I really shouldn’t be mentioning this a lot. The Father suppresses religion, for Venitu knows why. Although I did hear the idea of ‘false hopes’ being spread around a lot. We had to jargonise it during our conversations to reduce suspicion. You do not want to mess with The Father. But our beliefs were in fact strengthened; no act of incarceration or execution will hinder us. We rather face the difficult trials of the most powerful being on Earth than the wrath of a god. It is through Venitu that we urge to fight at our very best and our fortitude to endure the harshness of the weather and physical starvation.

The blackness of the sky was overwhelmed by the bright lights that flared at us. What was their intentions? What were their motives? Interrogating us? Recording us while we kneel reluctantly? If it ends here, all I desire is for it to end quickly. I closed my eyes. At a dire situation like this, my heart started to beat violently, sweat started to downpour my body and emotions filled my mind. I remember the pain and the agony my family had given me. Ever since I was small, they made fun of me, ridiculed me; never bothered to understand me. I was always the least favoured of their five children. As a result, I was always picked on and mocked by my siblings. They dehumanised me.

Suddenly it all made sense. I never wanted to become a Silencer because of the salary or to bring justice. I wanted revenge. I wanted my family to feel the fear, neglect and hatred they had imposed on me. Sadly, I never had the chance. Perhaps the greatest ambition I ever had dashed away. Cowards. They moved to Novosibirsk when The Father issued a great purging in Iberkan. That anger, that lust for revenge had sub-consciously made me impose fear upon others. I looked at my hands. What had I done? My hands slowly became a mosaic of multiple faces, faces, I mean the people that I have killed, screaming at me. I felt a reddening in my hands. I couldn’t tell if it was the blood flow caused due to the stress, or the blood flow of my fallen victims. I let my anger dictate my inhumane ways, and it will be the anger of the rebels that I will die inhumanely. No chance to say my apologies, no ways to amend my wrongs. I have deserved it. Not even Venitu would want to save me now.

‘You lot!’ My thoughts came to a sudden halt, eyes alert. But my physiological response didn’t. A fair skinned rebel glared at us. He had cerulean eyes with a castory moustache. A huge scar ran down from his left ear all the way to just before the upper lip. Honestly, if it weren’t for the scar, his stern look would make his appearance as that of an aristocrat. Like our profession states, we remained silent. None of us dared to utter a word. ‘Here is a picture. Examine it closely.’ It was a black and white portrait of a young man.
‘That man right there is my son.’ His words were a mix of sternness and mumbling, as if trying to hold back his sobbing. ‘He was a good man. He helped the community of Dubrovnik to flourish.’ Dubrovnik. That name again. ‘He always looked after the needy. Despite his lucrative business, he would always contribute back to the community. He was an influence, an inspiration. He was a leader. A GOOD leader...unlike the BLOODY FATHER!’ His face started to boil. The fair skin turned into a bright red. ‘YOU COLD, BLOODED MURDERERS! YOU KILLED HIM MERCILESSLY IN THE GRASSFIELDS WHERE HIS MOTHER LAID! MOTHERFUCKERS!’ He ducked his head. ‘I have failed you, my wife…I have failed you…my son.’ He was inundated by his own tears. ‘Well, finally…I…no, we….we will have our REVENGE!’ A click. The safety switch of a pistol.

‘This is finally it.’ I closed my eyes once more and raised my head. ‘To…the Caelum. Venitu, I…have failed you.’ A loud bang was fired. It felt worse than flesh cut by cold steel. Only one. Only one shot was made. I slowly opened my eyes. The rebel was staring at me but his arm was not aimed at me, but rather sideways. I turned around. Woodshaw. Woodshaw was the target. Woodshaw was dead. I could now truly see why he was named Ice. He didn’t utter a sound. Blood trickled down his temple. Two rebels slowly dragged his body upon the sand and away from us. Who knows where his resting place will be. Would there even be a proper burial for him? Or will he, just like many rebels did, lay hard cold on nature’s ground?

‘To weaken the enemy flank, one must kill their leader, destroy their morale.’ His head slightly nodded and looked at the red-covered sand. ‘Давайте двигаться!’ Let’s move, he informed his personnel. I’m surprised the rebels were able to speak Russian, but yet again, we’re in Trevorum. We may be in Bulgaria, but Russia still is the dominant power in Trevorum. So perhaps it is not so surprising that the language managed to spread even at Trevorum’s edges.

I felt a small tug as a rebel was placing his hand firmly on my shoulder. Nonchalantly, I trudged with the rest of us Silencers. My head turned, wondering if I will ever see Woodshaw’s body again. The lights became less powerful as we became more and more distant from them. Despite the rather tall vegetation and shrubbery, an ornate building is visible in distance. With the lighting attached to this marvellous edifice, it gleamed with a strong marble-white with a slight tint of the lights’ yellow. The building is composed of five sections: the stepped base, Ionic-styled pillars, a slab of marble for the second floor, another set of Ionic pillars and finally another slab for the roof.

Perhaps this was the only way I could amend my wrongs. I thought to myself. I had placed oppression on the people that didn’t deserve it, at least at a personal level. My craving for revenge had blocked out my feelings for compassion and empathy. It would not be a bullet, a blade, a chemical or divine judgement that will end my life. I have been dead already. It was the uncontrollable fury that ended my life long ago, and it will be redemption, the amendment of wrongs, that will resurrect me from the wintery grave.

I felt a heavy weight placed upon me as I was trudging the ground. After a few minutes, we arrived at the edifice. I managed to examine the place more clearly. Glass paned windows with the window sills made of fine cypress wood. The main door was made of ferrous metals and around three metres in height and a gold plated, double-headed eagle was nailed just above it. Duplum Capitum Aquilae. A symbol to signify Venitu’s vicegerent during the ages of the Byzantine Empire but its influence has spread and used as a national symbol all across Trevorum and Eastern Iberkan.

‘Open the door!’ The fair-skinned rebel shouted. Almost immediately, the seemingly quasi-invincible door opened inward and revealed a corridor of brown carpeting. It felt kind of unexpected. We were captives and yet this was our final destination? I didn’t raise my hopes too quickly. You can never tell what is there to anticipate. As I was walking through the long corridor, the rebel behind me grazed my face onto the corridor walls. I can hear his sadistic grunt but I tried to remain invulnerable. What I’m about to face may end my life. A thing like this is something to be ignored. At the end of the corridor was a wooden door with two metal plates placed horizontally and bolted by galvanised screws. The fair-skinned rebel slowly approached towards the door and whispered ‘trident fish, blood roses, broken aim, coffin treasure, heart compass.’ A sudden click and the door opened. Another rebel was inside. ‘Get them in.’ he instructed. With the lighting conditions placed alongside the corridor, his scar was a lot more evident and contrasting towards his face.

As soon as we passed the door, we took a sharp turn and faced left. The ambience had an immediate shift. We’re now looking at stony interiors that resemble a jail warden during the era of feudalism. I knew there was something else to this façade. The masonry was subpar as the stones placed together were roughly polished and holes which once contained bits of rock were nowhere present. There were twenty jail cells here, ten on each side of the wall. Six were already occupied. Who knows how long they’ve been down here. Well, at least referring to the Pacifying Unit. The fair-skinned rebel went forward and faced towards us.

‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Augustus Zeljkomovic. I am the leader of this small scaled battalion of mine. I know it has been a long day for you all so I expect you all to get a good night’s rest.’ He paused for a moment in deep contemplation. ‘Trust me. You’ll all need it. And don’t plan to escape. There will be guards constantly patrolling this area and outside the building. If you even attempt to communicate to your superiors, I’m pretty sure you know what to expect. Пошли!’ Augustus quickly walked away. The rebels then tugged each of us into one of the jail cells, and slammed the black painted steel doors.

Feeling very tired, I have no desire to properly inspect the place. I do need to have a good night’s rest, especially since I was woken up in the middle of the night. As soon as the last rebel left the warden, the lights were turned off. Complete darkness. The only perceptions I could make were the creaking of my fellow mates, trying to get on their beds. I took off my helmet, boots and vest and threw them on the floor. I’m surprised the rebels wouldn’t inspect me and confiscate my knife. I may need it when I escape. But not now. I’m too tired. I slowly got up on the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible, having my face turned upwards towards the ceiling. I grabbed the pillow and placed it under my head. It wasn’t the most comfortable pillow, but to a captive, it is by luxurious in standard.
‘Marcus?’ Shaun’s voice echoed around the stony interiors. Realising the rebels may have heard him, he immediately jolted from his assigned bed.

‘Yes Shaun?’

‘What is going to happen to us now?’

‘I don’t know. And I’m really tired. Too tired to think about it.’

‘Oh. Ok then. Good night.’

‘You too.’ I just hope I could forget about the past. Perhaps this sleep would have to do.


****************************************************************************************************


‘Wake up you lazy sods!’ My eyes were still heavy. Damn it. I must’ve had an exasperating nightmare or something. Or perhaps it’s just myself not getting enough rest from the night. Seems like I have to count on my hearing more than my sight. I hear imprisoned Pacifiers grudging to get out of bed like me and also a quiet trickling sound, like a water leakage of some sort. I tried to open my eyes but immediately closed them back. My eyes were pyrophoric, burning when I exposed them to the air. My eyes remain closed until I heard the unlocking of my jail cell. I tried to stand up but I crashed into the wall when the rebel clubbed me on the head. He then dragged me out of the jail cell leaving my army equipment behind. I placed my hands in my pockets. Oh. The medallion was still in there after all this mayhem. I somehow felt relieved. It filled my heart from a void that I never even thought it existed.

After the hustle getting out of the building, we were exposed to a vast land of green. It was a rather windy day, the surrounding flora were bending under the will of the wind, so did all of our hair. Around fifty metres away, revolutionaries were honing their fighting skills in the domains of the sword, martial arts, bow and arrow, gun and javelin. You could see the fury in how they fought. They excelled in fighting. They could probably bulldoze their way through hordes of Pacifiers.

‘What are we doing?’ It was Alex.

‘I honestly have no idea.’ I replied. ‘Are we supposed to train with them? Or are we supposed to fight with them?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Where is that Augustus douche any…Ouch!’ John tried to intervene in our conversation but was punched in the rib by a rebel following us.

‘Don’t call him that, or else…’

‘Fine. Fine. Geez.’ John panted, placing his left hand in the punched area. ‘Speaking of which, there he is.’

Augustus was walking in the distance. He was wearing a black suit and black oxford shoes. He was also wearing a vertically striped white shirt with a purple tie. But despite his dress formality, it still was his scar that remained the most prominent of his appearance.

‘Hello, prisoners.’ Augustus started off. ‘As I said before, I hope you all had a good night’s rest. Because you will need all the energy you have for today.’ This couldn’t be good. ‘Have you ever wondered what it was like to have people who are constantly tormented by their inquisitors, but yet have no opportunity to express their feelings, fears and basically everything? All they end up is being beaten insofar even plausible death. And here is the chance for you all to finally experience what it is like to be the victim rather than the victor. You may ask, where then are our other comrades during the siege of midnight? Well, they are facing the exact same thing, just not here, that is. Finally our indignations will be placed by your retribution! This is going to be good.’ Augustus gave a nod at the rebel and he complied.

‘Listen up losers!’ He shouted. ‘This is how this is going to work. See those warriors over there? Each of you are going to face one of them.’ Crap. I won’t know how I will survive this. Perhaps this is the retribution Augustus so claimed. Without any of our army equipment on, we would not receive any protection from the enemy’s blows. All we did have was our survival instincts and our minds. ‘Let the games begin! Up first…you, over at the centre now!’ He was referring to Alex. Alex had no choice but to acquiesce to his demands. He was walking fearfully as if the following moments were to lead to his demise. From the other end, a tank built figure walked to the centre with a grin on his face. ‘This is how it’s going to work! Each person on either side has to fight until they victor or end up in complete submission. For each match won, the victor’s side will earn one point. After the matches, the team with the most points wins aka no punishments for the night!’ I could see where this is going. I’m not sure if were able to win, but by the looks of this match, Alex versus a tank brute, we probably wouldn’t.

‘3…2…1…BEGIN!’ Immediately, there was a sudden uproar in cheering from the rebels. There were too many shouts and chants at once that I was not able to differentiate what each one said. But I’m pretty sure what they meant to say anyways. The brute started off by giving Alex a whopping punch at the side of his head. Alex immediately fell downwards. He was not totally ready for fighting. His eyes became more alert when the brute decided to perform a body slam and quickly rolled upon the grass bed evading it. Alex, now fully alarmed, performed a kip up to ready his fighting stance. The brute made a grumpy sound like that of a bull. I can sense that Alex feels frightened, but even if he were to lose, he wouldn’t capitulate without a bloody fight. The brute charged at him but Alex quickly dodged to the side. The brute turned around, as angry as ever.

‘No one messes with Karl Schmidt!’ So that was his name. He bellowed and charged at Alex once more but Alex retaliated with a jumping spinning back kick, and knocked him backwards. Alex looked at us and smiled. I wanted, well, we all wanted to cheer for him but our chants were overwhelmed by the chants of the rebels either cheering for Karl or jeering for Alex. Karl moved at incredible speed and picked Alex up by the hips, holding him mid-air, he quickly threw Alex down to the ground. Immediately there was a huge cheer for Karl in the crowds. Alex closed his eyes yelped in pain. Damn it gravity. Karl grabbed Alex but before Karl could do another throw, Alex was entirely alert and kicked the side of his head, backing Karl off. Alex got himself back up together again. This was no time for games. This may be his last chance of living. Karl’s ear was bleeding and his face turned red.

‘This will be your end, fool!’ He taunted. Karl charged at him but was interrupted by Alex’s crescent kick, stunning him. Alex, noticing this was his chance, performed a roundhouse kick, a spinning hook kick and ended his combo with a tornado kick, pinning him down to the ground. There was no time to lose. Alex rushed towards him and performed a shoulder lock. Karl screamed with his closed. Alex gritted his teeth, just wanting to subdue him now. After a couple seconds of constant struggling, Karl was overcome by the pain and tapped the ground several times indicating surrender. The crowd immediately became silent. Some of the rebels even had their jaws dropped. Alex walked back towards us.

‘Good job, man.’ Shaun placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

‘Thanks.’ Alex’s face was painted with a bit of dirt and grime from his fall.

‘Well…’ The rebel announcer came back, completely awe struck. He felt a fit of rage in him. ‘Someone get him OUT OF HERE!’ Immediately three rebels from the crowd dragged Karl away as he was still murmuring in pain. ‘Well, as much as I HATE to do THIS!’ A sudden pause. ‘A promise is a promise, one point for the Pacifiers.’ He really dreaded to say that. I can sense it by his long face and heavy tone. ‘You! Centre! NOW!’ Crap, he pointed to me. I felt my feet chained to the ground. I didn’t want to but I have to. Either I die right here or die fighting. I closed my eyes and embraced the gust of wind blown towards me. It may be the final comfort I would be able to feel.

I got towards the centre, quickly eyeing around to see my competitor. My competitor was black haired with a stipple beard. He seems very young of age, around twenty five or so. I guess he is a man of stylistic kicks, as he is rather lean unlike Karl. He wore a white shirt and sports trousers, allowing him to perform his moves more efficiently and effectively. ‘There is a reason why he is called The Whirlwind.’ The rebel looked at me. ‘Good luck. You’ll be very fortunate if you actually survive this. 3…2…1…BEGIN!’ He quickly ran aside. Well, I guessed it right. He is not to be underestimated.

Arms raised. Legs firm on the ground. Some serious shit is going down. I tried to closely examine him so did The Whirlwind, trying to predict every moment. A quick punch. I blocked it with my arms. Suddenly, The Whirlwind started to perform punch after punch at an electrifying speed. I can’t analyse anymore. The movements are too quick. I could only trust my survival instincts, hoping to block each attack. A leg swipe. I fell to the ground and tried to evade but he was too quick. He punched and kicked me continuously, blow after blow. Feeling a sudden jolt of adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream, I felt a boldness never before. I used both my legs to grab one of The Whirlwind’s legs and turned my body leftward causing him to fall down as well. A kip up and back on my feet. I attempted to pummel him but he got up just in time, blocking my attacks with his elbows. Punch. Block. Punch. Block. Punch. Block. Spinning hook kick. A huge blow to the side of the face. I immediately felt blood surging to the area where I got hit. Not now. This is not how I will end.

The Whirlwind attempted to perform a side kick, but to his unfortunateness I managed to grab his leg despite his lightning speed moves. I grabbed his leg with my left and performed an elbow jab on the thigh with my right. The force of my jab temporarily paralysed him, causing him to unwillingly lay down. Now was my opportunity. I kicked him multiple times in the stomach as The Whirlwind yelped in pain. He then kicked me in the stomach with such force, causing me to fall back. He started acting in a fanatical manner, performing tornado kick after tornado kick. I could only defend not attack. I now could see why he was called The Whirlwind, his continuous motions performing similar to that of an actual whirlwind. Every time I blocked his kick successfully, I really wanted to lay my arms down due to the force of the kick. It was so painful blocking every hit. I finally let go and a kick landed right on my nose, landing head first on the windy grass field. I could then feel him performing blow after blow on my back, only causing my screams to become louder and louder. I could hear a massive cheer as I’m on the process of being defeated, perhaps even killed. You cannot fight against an element of nature.

Time seemed to slow down substantially as I laid on the ground. Despite my nose bleeding severely and being in great pain, my brain thankfully was still conscious. Maybe this is why he is called The Whirlwind, he is an advocate for the forces of nature himself. The only way to defeat the wind, is to be…to be…under the power…of…Venitu.

‘Venitu surge! Et respondendum est, intende deprecationem meam Mihi dolet iniuriis feci! Sed post te non erit finis spero me Tua benedic Deum fortitudinem magna!’

Venitu arise! Answer my plea! I'm sorry for the wrongs I've done! But as a follower of you, I hope this will not be the end of me! Bless me with your godly strength, O great one!

The chant of Venitu worked. I don’t care if it is really divine intervention or the placebo effect, but it really worked. I performed another leg swipe and rolled a few times, before a kip up. I felt tired, but I must go on. Arms up. Legs placed firmly to the ground. ‘Vincere!’ I shouted. The Whirlwind performed a quick punch followed by an elbow jab and a roundhouse kick. Just back off, easy enough. Everything seemed to occur in slow motion now, allowing me to easily dodge or block his moves. As The Whirlwind was performing a straight punch, that was the perfect opportunity for me. I grabbed his hand, turned my body around, and executed a shoulder throw. His hand acted as a lever, optimising control and using my body as a pivot to hurl him over to the ground with force.

The Whirlwind looked with awe, totally unaware this would have happened to him. While he was trying to regain focus, I subdued him with a shoulder lock and using my knee to consistently jab his stomach forming two areas of pain for him. He is struggling but has a lot of energy to fight back like how the wind can easily disperse but I would not allow him. All this constant struggling empowered me with more of Venitu’s strength, inflicting even more pain. We were both screaming at the same time. One because of pain, the other as a battle cry. After what seemed like a minute, he submitted. I won. I couldn’t have been happier. I thought I was going to perish. I felt like a victor, a gladiator which defeated all of his adversaries.

‘Not this again!’ The rebel announcer was furious, brought out his knife and stabbed me in the rib. WHAT THE FUCK!? I won! So even if I did overcome The Whirlwind, I would still die because of some pissed off douchebag!? I laid down to the ground. I lightly placed my right palm on the wound as red started to colour my white shirt. My eyes felt heavy, and I wanted to close them, but the last thing I observed was a blurred vision of people, tugging, pushing and fighting against each other. I’m sorry, all of you.


****************************************************************************************************


‘Wha-what?’ I felt a little groggy. At least I was not dead. So that’s a good thing…right? I was still dressed with the white shirt I wore when I fought The Whirlwind. Man, was he quite the opponent. I noticed I was wrapped with linen cloth with dense patches at the injured area. Seriously though, what the fuck was wrong with him? I played by the rules fair and square. Well, at least it didn’t feel painful anymore, so I guess it’s alright. I then pondered at the night sky. So I must have probably been unconscious for eight to twelve hours. Damn. Those stars were a beautiful complement to the sky. The moon was especially bright and I was able to see the craters and the silvery-grey tint at certain areas. I never had the chance to gaze at these wondrous marvels, at least often enough. Being a Pacifier meant that I had to constantly fight mercilessly, without being able to enjoy the finer things in life. It also made me unable to contemplate, to think about who we were fighting against. The rebels may be a nuisance but something tells me that there is a small element of veracity in them. What they’re fighting for. Can I really still trust The Father? He may have established this system, formed a brand new world, but at what cost? I’m just one Pacifier so imagine what devastation, what destruction all the Pacifiers would have caused were they all together in one place? I heard footsteps at a distance. I turned around. It was The Whirlwind. Having a sense of fear, I tried to get up and flee from him in case he wants to perform round two right here.

‘Woah! Woah! Be careful, man! You’re still injured!’ I was perplexed. But anyhow, I couldn’t fight or run after being injured like this. The Whirlwind handed me a glass of water. I looked at him as if the water was poisoned. But there was something about him that seemed he is a man of integrity.

‘Thanks, I guess.’ As I took the glass and took a gulp.

‘No problem, man. My pleasure. That wa-’

‘Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. Did you just say my pleasure?’

‘Yeah.’

‘But, but why? I mean don’t you hate us?’

‘Well, to some extent, yes. I mean you guys come in just fucking our towns man. Not cool, not cool. But I guess I never had a personal experience with Pacifiers so as far as I can tell, many of the rumours are most likely exaggerations.’

‘So, you never had a real fight with a Pacifier?’

‘Oh yes I did. It’s just that none of them managed to harm my family or steal my personal valuables. I had never been bested before…..until now.’ I was shocked. He had never been defeated before? And even if he were to be defeated on this day, surely I could’ve been someone else. ‘Well good job, man. That was quite the fight.’

‘Why would you compliment me?’ I was bewildered. ‘Don’t you know what I am?’

‘Yeah. You’re a Pacifier.’

‘So why would enemies compliment each other?’

‘You’re not my enemy.’

‘Wait-wha? This doesn’t even make sense.’

‘Well, I’m a mercenary, you see. So, my loyalty, is money.’ Well that seemed to clear things up. ‘And you think Pacifiers do shit? This Augustus guy gives us some of that shit too!’ He laughed. ‘Don’t tell anyone I said that to you though. I will deny it. Oh silly me. I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Johann.’

‘Marcus.’ I replied as I shook hands with him.

‘Marcus!’ Johann and I turned around and realised it was Shaun. ‘You’re alright!’ He slid and sat next to me.

‘Yeah I’m alright, thanks.’

‘Dude, I was so worried about you. I thought something terrible would happen to you after that idiot stabbed you.’

‘Oh yeah, what happened to him?’

‘Well, the fighting games had to stop because of that.’ Johann intervened. ‘The guy that stabbed you, his name is Duke. He’s currently being punished by Augustus for his…impulsive, rebellious behaviour. He’s had issues similar to these but never have I seen him so agitated that he would injure someone. By the way, due to a two to nil, your team has won. Consider yourself blessed. Augustus would’ve punished you all if your team lost. By the way, Augustus personally wanted to see you. Follow me. Your friend can come as well.’

I was confused, but ok. I still haven’t fully recovered from my wound so there was no point fighting or escaping…at least for now. With the help from Shaun and Johann, I managed to get up on my feet. ‘It’s ok, guys. I can handle walking on my own.’

‘You sure?’ Shaun asked.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks. My feet feel a bit numb, but I’m alright.’

‘Oh, by the way. You dropped this.’ Johann presented something from his hand. The medallion, my eyes widened. ‘It dropped out while we were fighting.’

‘Thanks.’ I quickly snatched it from him. I had forgotten about it.

‘So, you’re ready to go?’ Johann asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘Excellent.’ Johann lead the way, walking barefoot among the rocky path. It was very different compared to the grass field I was in this morning.

‘Where are we by the way?’ I asked.

‘We’re near the edges of Vitchyda, Augustus’s self-claimed territory. We’re in Ahtopol by the way, not Varvara, but very near there. The reason we’re here is because due to your injury, it is said that skin in contact with the basalt surface would heal wounds faster. We’re about a kilometre away from the place we fought against each other.’

“I’m curious as to why Augustus would set up his operations here. I mean, Bulgaria would not be my first choice if I were him.’

‘Well, why not?’

‘I mean Bulgaria isn’t…let’s just face it. It’s not a place like France, Italy or the UK, where you can have the access to supplies and probably recruitable mercenaries due to the population. Heck, even moving a little down south and you have Istanbul, a sixteen million people metropolis.’

‘Well, isn’t that kind of the whole point? To be away from the big cities? The Father can easily detect our locations and sabotage our plans with little effort were we operating in those places. Do note that you have no chance of escaping and contacting your superiors what I’ve just told you. You may not notice other rebels surrounding, but they’re watching you alright.’

‘Why would I? I’m still recovering from this damn wound. Why would Augustus want to see me anyways?’

‘I don’t know. Ask him yourself.’ After a slow, twenty minute walk, we could finally see Augustus in the distance. He was staring aimlessly at a wall of some sort.

‘Sir! He’s here!’ Johann announced.

‘Ah…’ Augustus raised his hands as I walked towards him. ‘The champion. Come ‘ere. Are you alright? I’m sorry that Duke stabbed you and he will be punished accordingly for his crimes.’

‘Yeah I’m alright, now. Thanks.’

‘You know when I first captured you lot, I was filled with anger and rage and wanted to kill you right on the spot. But you…’ He pointed at me. I was completely in shock, not knowing what to do. ‘You…are special. There was something about you that calmed my anger down. I felt that I could trust you, despite you being one of those Pacifier dogs. While, I may still have my doubts, I can sense that you have some sort of regret, perhaps some kind of remorse for what you have committed.’

‘How did you know!?’ He could mind read? All I could do was to remain speechless. I had never told it to anyone else, not even my buddy Shaun right next to me.

‘Well, it’s really because of two things. First, I have studied psychology so I guess I do possess a mind telepathy of some sort. Secondly, I felt the presence of Venitu within you.’ Immediately there were conflicting statements occupying my mind. Studying psychology? How could he even have the opportunity to study? Books, schools, computers, libraries, any sort of information was strictly banned by The Father. Could he be in possession in one of those forbidden luxuries? Secondly, he was a believer of Venitu too? I’m not sure what to say about that. Lastly, Venitu’s presence within me? What was that even supposed to mean? Was that the reason I was able to defeat The Whirlwind Johann?

‘Assuming you really are Venitu’s chosen, I will perhaps be a bit more lenient on you. But yet again, you can never be too cautious. I could be hallucinating for all I know. Here, I wanted to show you and your friend something.’ Johann, Shaun and I walked downwards to a curved wall of some sort. It appeared to be some sort of mural. As we were heading closer towards it, I realised it was not a mural, but rather words chiselled onto them.

‘I remember chiselling those words by hand a few years back.’ Augustus gave a sigh. ‘Took me a few weeks to finish. But I guess it was worth the effort.’

‘What is this thing?’

‘This is a song. An anthem. For when we overcome The Father. It is also the anthem we use currently to encourage ourselves with the vigour and strength it provides.’ I looked at it, but I couldn’t really decipher it.

‘Puzzled, eh?’ Augustus asked.

‘Yeah. It is like a language I have never known before.’

‘That’s because it is.’

‘Oh?’ Shaun asked.

‘Yes. This is a language only known by me, the rebels that work for me and my allies up north. My friends and I have invented this language twenty years back to avoid The Father understanding what we’re saying. It is called Zhritsky. It is a Cyrillic script based language with strong elements of Greek, Latin and English. As of now, it is estimated that there are a thousand speakers.’

I am truly amazed by the effort put into this. I never knew the revolutionaries would have created such a sophisticated system to evade us Pacifiers. The rebels are truly a force that should not be underestimated. ‘Shall we?’

‘Shall we what?’

‘Shall we sing it together?’

‘I don’t know. I-’

‘Remember you’re still under my control. And I want you and your friend to sing it with me.’

‘But I don’t know how it goes. I don’t know how to read it.’

‘Here you go.’ A notebook with the translations for the anthem. I’ve never seen such scholastic treasures in a long time. I held it and the leathery back felt so good. I instantly felt more knowledgeable just by holding onto it.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Um, yeah.’ Augustus lead on the singing. I still strongly remember the anthem to this day.

Продови, Рі Тато, воу аплітітскі. Де продон орґул віл птода анді.

Prodovy, Ri Tato, vou aplititski. De prodoh orgul vil ptoda andi.

Beware, The Father, of your greed. Be warned pride comes before your fall.

Мегревіі рі ворлд простґері, еін хіпгос нос есфорзамтсі.

Mehrevii ri vorld prostgeri, ein xiphos nos esphorzamtsi.

We will protect the world with our lives, it is through our sword we will strive.

Вои гуміллі подо мас, вои ското подо мас, біт вои вілл ламван душа мас

Voy humilli podo mas, voy skoto podo mas, bit voy vill lamvan dusha mas.

You may humiliate us, you may kill us, but you’ll never take away our soul.

‘That’s it?’ I asked. ‘Seems short for an anthem.’

‘Well there is an extended version, but, like I said. I don’t fully trust you yet. I’ll let you see the full version when I find you…reliable.’

‘Of course.’ Being able to converse with Augustus like this is fortunate enough already.

‘About just now, when we met. You agreed that you have had some sort of regret, am I right?’ I nodded furiously.

‘Tell me about it. Why have you gone fighting for them then?’

‘I’m not ready to tell yet. It still burdens my mind and I’m afraid I’ll explode when I tell it.’

‘Fair enough. Everyone has secrets they don’t want to tell. But I do expect to hear it soon.’ I nodded without saying a word.

‘Excuse me?’ I asked.

‘Yes?’

‘May I walk around the edges of Vitchyda? It looks really nice.’

‘Alright.’ Augustus gave a signal to Johann.

‘No, no sir. I very much would like to walk alone.’ Augustus gave a sigh.

‘Very well. You may. But don’t think about escaping. We have people constantly guarding the area.

‘Why would I want to escape. My wounds have not been fully healed yet.’ I somehow managed to smile right in front of him. Augustus left without a hint of expression. Johann gave me a quick nod and left. ‘Shaun, I very much feel like walking alone.’

‘Oh, ok I understand.’ Shaun gave me a smile. ‘I’ll just head back to The Embassy then.’

‘The Embassy?’

‘Yeah, the building where we’re staying. John started calling it The Embassy because it looks like one…except for the jail warden part of it.’

‘Oh. Ok then. Good night.’

‘You too.’

I quickly dashed towards the place I was when I woke up from the fight. The lake surrounded by the trees and grasses makes an excellent night view. Just as I was about to reach there. I saw it again. The white thing. The same thing I saw during my jeep ride to Varvara. I slowly tiptoed towards it with caution. Who knows what this thing is. I was ambivalent with my emotions. One side of me wanted to run away, while the other side wanted to face it. The latter emotion was stronger and so I went closer and closer wondering what this thing was.

‘Hi!’ I was suddenly shocked. It turned out that ‘white thing’ was actually white hair.
Ignotum venit retro vivere. :aether :light

 

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