The Invisible King

Chapter 6: Efran

Chapter 6
Efran

The sun has risen from dawn. Glimpses of sunlight shimmering through the twenty emerald flags, embroidered a golden crown, draped in the caskets with picture frames and flowers, laid on the ground behind the rectangular holes dug in six feet of depth, guarded by the platoon of black legionnaire soldiers, holding the swords up on their chests in a snappy posture.

Efran was one of them, stealing glances through the families of the fallen heroes, crying their names. Mothers, fathers, wives, siblings, and children–they've lost someone precious in their lives. The Captain was speaking in front of them, tales of the heroic deeds they've done for the nation from the hundreds of bandits ambushed them. Their sacrifices will be forever in Flostania's memory. Then after, the priest would come in front of them, gaslighting that their deaths had a reason and were in accordance with Jembahal's written fate, and Jembahal would welcome them in the Sacred Kingdom to award their righteousness.

Little did they know, their lives were just a replaceable meat shield to protect the fabulous golds from the mere little girl.

Efran started to wonder about his father. There were times when his father surprised them to dine at a fine restaurant. Mother and big brother were happy, savoring the exclusive moments they couldn't even afford—they have no idea it was just loaned in the bank. Efran wasn't able to unfold the neat white rose-folded napkin and touch the shiny golden spoon without his mind wandering. The sudden change of course and routine—feels too odd. His skeptical thoughts would starve for answers, than the warm steak on the table.

The day he would wake up in his bed and go to the kitchen for breakfast, only his brother and his mother were there waiting for him. His father was at work again. He would wait for days to play commander role play in the backyard, and his brother never had an interest, so he had no other playmates than his father.

Weeks, months, or even a year before his father would be home, standing by the bright door, skinny and has bandages over his body.

Mother was smiling as if she was just excited to see her husband, but her hug was too tight and long. Then his father would casually smile at the little Efran and would say, Don't just watch, son. Come here. And he would join. His brother, who just woke up, would follow.

Then he would notice the odd vibration, her mother's trembling body. He's curious, especially when she wipes her cheeks and sniffs. He would ask, what's wrong, mother? She would reply, Something just irritated my eyes. Must be a speck of dirt in your father's dirty uniform. This is why I wanted to wash your father's clothes myself, because the laundry ladies were never good. They all would laugh.

Efran would run his eyes to his brother, and to his mother—she had the loudest laugh, yet her eyes were odd. As if it was filled with fear, worriedness, and sorrow. Maybe he's just wrong. He's just a kid, after all, and his parents were always right. But now that he's here, clad in the same uniform his father has, he's starting to understand the life his father pushed—in exchange for the fine restaurants, comfortable home, and clothes.

But things have changed. These sacrifices were not for them anymore but for the other family, as he believed. Too late to pity his father. He's already dead, buried more than six feet of depth—infinite—this was what his heart felt.

If his father wanted that joke human needs, then he must be an unmarried man. No wife to get hurt, and no children to be abandoned. That easy.

"I was weak at her age," Gio murmured next to him, looking at the small casket from afar, guarded by only two soldiers. Still, no family was coming for the girl.

The Captain was supposed to dispose of her body in the river or feed to the crocodiles. Her death was not enough to calm his rage, his sympathy for the fallen soldiers and their families. But Efran appealed, and the Mzerlish supported him. It's on Flostania law, though, that minor children were out of the court trials, and their parents must take responsibility for their deed and take the punishment.