Mankinds last Silhouette

Chapter 5: Legatum

A man's duty is to give his life to the republic.

"A man's duty is to give his life to the pub...pub...public."A young child draped in silver and gold silk clothing mumbles, his head tilted down on a wooden table, his attention unyielding from the thick, mountain-tall book.

He sat on a small birch table adjacent to a hidden figure who walked over to him, slammed a ruler onto the child's flat palms, and then took that same ruler and smacked the board.

"It is the republic, you good for nothing, child."

"Again."

" The....The....The...dut.....duty." The child stutters as tears flow from his eyes, and he wipes them profusely with his rough, bruised hands, almost begging the tears to go away.

He looks out at the ocean, peering through the room's glass window, and his eyes twinkle as the moonlight reflects and dilates his pupil.

The hidden figure gets closer to him and rests his hand on his shoulder.

"hey..hey it's okay we all have our bad days and sometimes we need some time to bounce back."

His voice was stern and raspy.

The child's tears quickly dried up like the ocean after the world was cooked in an oven of debris. He tried to speak, but his voice cracked.

"You...you...you really mean it?"Each word he spoke felt more painful than the last, like walking on hot stones.

"Yeah, yeah, of course, even I have bad days. Come walk with me real quick. I want to show you something." the figure said softly.

His stubby, short legs struggled to get him down from his chair. His unwillingness to give in almost brought a smile to the hidden figure's face.

They walked over to the window of the stone building.

He pointed at the ocean.

"What do you see over their boy."

He looked, and with joy."That is the ocean you taught me about this."

"Good good. I meant it when I said we all have bad days and need time to bounce back and reflect."

The child, still looking at the ocean, nodded in agreement.

"I hope you do some reflection down there," the figure's tone changed, causing the child's heart to beat rapidly.

The child slowly rotated his head. His forehead wrinkled.

"Down wh-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the figure picked up his small body and threw him out of the window into the edgy rocks connecting the land and the ocean.

He slammed into the rocks and slid into the ocean without a sound, his blood following him like a trail of sugar ants to his newfound sweat.

A man with a rigid physique and a white uniform laid on a plastic wooden bend.

"Major! Major," a private yelled at a distance.

The man in uniform was in his early twenties, with partly grey hair. He wiped the sleep from his eyes, which fluttered as he kicked dust into the air when he moved.

"Yes private how can I help you?" he responded while hinting at sarcasm.

He salutes the Major and reads the loose papers in his hands.

"We have received word from Dallas about the rebel group called Freedom Brigade. They are planning to move on a weapon cache in Corpus Christi, and we have been ordered by his holiness to intersect them in four hours."