The Song of a Phoenix

Chapter 3: Plague

December 1994. Licentia, Eastern Crathenia

   Several more have died this week— Neville, aged sixteen; Tyler, aged fifteen; and Mark, aged sixteen. We never really held assemblies every single time someone died anymore since there are simply just too many deaths, but we always paid tribute to the victims at the end of every week. However, Miss Clarence called for an assembly this morning.

  "We have found the root cause behind these deaths," she announced. "It has been discovered that a new disease has broken out across Crathenia due to the current winter climate. A cure has not yet been found, though several doctors have been working on vaccines."

  That would not help us with our panicking, I thought to myself. Not at all.

  "I was mistaken that it was due to poisoning, and I am truly sorry for providing everyone with misinformation on this plague. I promise that I will do whatever I can in my power to keep Elderfield Orphanage safe."

  A round of applause for Miss Clarence. I unenthusiastically joined the kids, clapping half-heartedly. I highly doubt that she could even do anything— the memory of Fred still scars my mind. Out of all the people in the orphanage, why did it have to get to him first? I know it was months ago, but a part of me still despises the nurse for not being able to heal him. For not being able to save him.

  For letting my brother die.

  She accepted his death almost too easily and I don't know if she even tried. Was it even fair of me to detest her? She might have let him down, but the effects of this disease were completely out of her control. I know she couldn't do it. I know nobody could do it. Yet it only took her just so long to give up— she had already determined his fate in a matter of less than three minutes.

  "You never bothered to try," I sighed. "You only want to get your stupid job done."

  And that came at the cost of my only family. 

 "Here are your soldiers, Crathenia, by the banks of the Ellesmere River! Their blood is on our hands, and their lives are currently withering here on the battlefield! Do not underestimate our strength— we're the whisper in the trees, we're the shuffling of the ground. If this is the path you choose, let it be. We will give our tears, blood, and sweat for a cause we believe is right!"

  "Does that mean war is getting closer to the city?" Rosalyn asked. Mr Lowe had called us all downstairs for another radio broadcast from the Order, so it definitely had to be something important. I didn't see how— we never listened to the radio unless it was lunchtime, and we would definitely not do it at night. Only the older kids chattered amongst themselves, while the rest of us didn't have a single clue on what's happening.

  "They crossed the Ellesmere River today after a battle with the Crathenian forces," Miss Tremlett replied. "If the Order managed to do that, they could definitely liberate Licentia. Our city isn't that far."

  Two months into the war and we're already approached with this kind of news. I'm not quite sure how to react— if a battle were to take place here, would it be brutal and violent or quick and swift? If Verethen were to be liberated, would it stay independent or unite with Itramia? Nobody's quite sure about that, as the Order's primary concern is currently the Crathenians. However, there have been disputes about how the territory would be governed.

  "We wouldn't have to live with the fear of getting killed any moment," Mr Darley remarked. "We could spend our lives in peace when they come."

  "And maybe the poisonings could come to an end."

  Every head in the room turned to Elliot. The disease has plagued the orphanage since October and around thirty kids have died in these two months. Even though news of the vaccines have somewhat relieved everyone, all of us knew deep down that us, being Itramians, probably won't be granted any sort of luxury like that.

  Miss Clarence frowned, puzzled. "We've said several times that it's the virus, Elliot. There are already doctors working on the vaccines."

  "Really? Don't you think that it's suspicious that there's a deadly epidemic across Verethen the moment war broke out? What if this is just nothing but one of the government's tricks to make us rely on them more? The doctors making these vaccines are Crathenians. By the time they get that vaccine finished, Itramians here would probably be dying and begging for the cure. Then the government could just make them do whatever it wants in return for getting some needle injected into their body."

  Chatters of anxiousness erupted among the children. Could what I had suspected back in October be true? I recalled how Fred looked like— sickly pale, bloodshot eyes, and those dry, purple lips. It was some kind of chemical. Could there actually be someone perpetrating all these deaths? Could Crathenia really be targeting us this very moment?

  I raised my hand. "But, Miss—"

  "Silence, everyone!" Mr Lowe's voice boomed across the hall.

  "Miss," I insisted. "I was with Fred when he died, and you told me that it was some kind of chemical."

  Elliot stood up. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! Do you think Katarina's making up stuff about Fred's death? It couldn't have been just a virus. This thing literally started just before the war broke out! What makes you think the Crathenians aren't capable of destroying us from the inside?"

  "I was also with Katarina when Fred died and I can confirm everything she said. Miss Clarence, you said yourself that it was some kind of chemical. Chemicals and viruses affect the body in different ways," Rosalyn added. I didn't even know how to react. She never talked back to anyone, and definitely not adults. "Why don't we actually start taking measures against this thing—"

  "Enough!" Mr Lowe yelled. "You three, this is no way to speak to an adult. Go back to your rooms. We're saving this conversation for another time."

  As the crowd began to disassemble, I caught onto Elliot's hand.

  "We need to talk tomorrow."

  There was one thing I've always found suspicious about the poisonings, flu, virus, disease, or whatever: most of the victims were teenagers, some of them a year or two younger. Fred was twelve, Kenneth thirteen, Neville sixteen, and so on. I wrote this down in my notebook, ready to gather everything I know about this plague. As I ran the list of names through my mind, a second realization came to me: most of these victims were males. Of course, there were a few exceptions here and there: Liliane, aged fourteen, Sharon, aged thirteen, and Celia, aged sixteen. I also recorded the symptoms of the plague, hoping that it'll help me in some way.

  I closed my notebook and headed to bed. Hopefully that would be enough information— I was planning to show Elliot everything I knew about the deaths in hopes that we'll figure something out tomorrow.

  We weren't allowed to have lights on during bedtime, so the carers often came around at night to enforce that. However, there was something about the footsteps tonight that intimidated me— they were more like stomps, not like the ones I've heard my entire life. I listened to them as they headed upstairs, where the older children slept.

  Thump.

  Something slammed onto the ground upstairs. I opened the door, curious to see what it was. However, as the carer headed downstairs I noticed something odd: they were dragging a huge thing behind them, seemingly about the size of a human. The thing struggled and kicked against the carer, and I could almost hear its screams. Horrified, I immediately shut the door behind me.

  "Get the fuck away from me, you bastard!" A muffled voice yelled. "I should've known that you were behind this!"

  I cupped my hand over my mouth. That was undeniably the voice of Elliot Roth.