chamomile valley // snk levi

five.

CHAPTER V. Affodillus [Medieval Latin (ML)- Daffodil]

ġēar 850.

You were rescued by the Survey Corps, another section of the military who help govern the land. That's what you gathered from the people who were walking around the place. In hindsight, rescued was not the right term, it have been wiser if you used falsely rescued with an added kidnapped and detained.

On that day, you remembered taking a handful of the jacket of the first person who was within your reach. You remembered how that person turned to you and was already concerned at the fear in your eyes and voice. Before they could ask you anything, you whispered the same thing you told them.

"Help me, please."

The rest of them looked at you but you kept your eyes on the person you were holding onto. You took notice of the spectacles around your savior's eyes and hair scrunched around the straps of it. 

The person looked at your profile, seeing a few bruises here and there and new one forming fingerprint dents on your neck. Reddened cheeks and tears on the knees of your trousers. Sunken flesh on the face which was a sign of malnutrition and your chapped lips and dry eyes were a sign for dehydration. You looked like you weren't hurt that much but you were still neglected to be taken care of.

You looked as your savior took the cloak each of them had and wrapped it around you, feeling the warmth of the person your shoulders like a tight embrace. Your savior, the same person who visits you in your cell on the dungeons of the headquarters, keeping tabs on your health. You had a cellmate but unlike you, he was permitted to leave whenever he wished with the exception of curfew. He was kind to you, even though he knew the risks and how terrible you are. You weren't terrible, at least not in the way the Military Police told.

After they rescued you, you met the Commander and learned that your savior was a Squad Leader for the Survey Corps. The commander was tall man and the eyebrows outstandingly appearing more than the rest of his face. At your first step inside the carriages, he was down to business.

"Are you by chance the underground criminal they captured three days ago?" he spoke against the already humid air, "Glove Worth of the Underground? Despite the many years of chasing you, you surrendered and came with them without a fight."

He added while looking at you dead in the eye, "Glove Worth of the Underground who had died the night after your capture due to starvation?"

It took you a second to click everything in place, the whole thing that had happen. The words around your death of starvation in the cell has circulated and reached the higher ups, making it seem the trial for you unneeded. 

But they were wrong, you weren't dead and one thought led to another. Your death plan sketched by the subordinated in partner with the pastors of their lord has gone according to their desired outcome. They made you a lifeless doll those who knew of the truth to toy with.

You pleaded your side, you did that ever since you were locked in your cell. In your cell, a soldier would visit and give you your daily meal. Today, she gave you your meal for the second time today, marking it an afternoon. You gingerly finished your meal and your thought immediately went to the kids down under, are they able to eat well? Life up here was better than what you expected but who were you kidding. You just wanted to go back down to your place in this system and go back to how things used to be.

They visited you again today, your mad scientist and the apprentice. You didn't know anyone by name, nor did they to you. And for good reason too. It was your daily check-up, the usual tick of things you've done for the day before they ask you questions you both know the answer to. But for some reason they wouldn't accept the truth. You repeat the same answers like a prayer, as they did the same interrogation. No change on questions, just hoping one day something would change.