CHAPTER FIVE
____________________________________"My... I wonder how far Elenora has read in the book..." Ann smiled. "Judging on how often she visits the library, I'd bet she's already finished it!"
Her friend joked as she sat on a chair by a window, sewing, and speaking to herself. "My, what I had gone through to get that thing..."
An entire day had gone by since Ann had given Madam Elenora the lengthy hardcover. Yet, it was only a mere thirty seven seconds that went by since her best friend had drowned. Unfortunately, to her knowledge, Elenora was currently laying peacefully under her bedsheets and skimming through the Mortem book. Time ticked much faster than what a human would consider normal, in the Tier of Death. To Elenora, she had been in the Mortem Tier for two and a half days now, but due to sped up time in the afterlife, Elenora had only left her body for less than a minute. It had only been thirty to forty seconds since Madam Bordeleau had died, and most likely, the Hominum Guards that robbed the woman of her life were well on their way back from doing so at that moment.
"I wonder if she's reading it right now..." she whispered and smiled.
It was late into the night. Ann finally yawned and shut her eyes briefly before continuing. Silence filled the house as it was being blocked in by the icy shards that fell from the clouds above. The clouds covered the small moon like a soft, cold blanket. Swirling white skydived to the pavement, eclipsing everything in winter. The woman sat quietly pulling the needle in and out of the fabric, occasionally yanking it tight, and back again. Oh, how she wished for a cup of tea right about now, but it was far too late for that. What she really and truly needed was sleep. Gradually, she set the fabric down on her chair and slipped her thimble off, sure that she will continue the sewing tomorrow and be off to bed.
Hoisting herself up, Ann began to make her way to a different room to change into her sleeping gown. Like a loud drawer slamming, but knowing that it was her front door knob hitting the wall as it burst open made her quickly rush to it. Snow and hail pelted the floor. Wind chilled the wooden walls. The little balls of ice bouncing slightly as it hit the floor, followed by an enormous gust of wind and a voice even louder. It hit the floorboards with great force and precision, gaining speed as it fell from the atmosphere.
"Ma'am!"
A young man hung to her doorknob, panting, out of breath. Enraged at the sudden intrusion, Ann marched to her door.
"What in blazes boy, are you mad?" she shouted.
"No Madam... The Hominum Tier Head," He slowed down a bit, clutching his chest and taking even breaths. Heads poked out from behind him. A small group of people, stared at her from behind the young boy. "The... Hominum Tier Head..." he swallowed "has made his way to town square! He has a few announcements that he... must address."
Ann nodded, and grabbed her coat, joining the rest of the group without another spoken word. Without more explanation. The breeze of the deep night licked their faces as they all stood in the cold like shivering, wet cats. Everyone bundled up and grouped together, standing in town square. Some pushing their way to the front, they gathered, all piling from the back they squished together, making their way as far as they could into the crowd and gradually coming to a halt. People pushed and shoved, standing on the tips of their shoes to get a glance of the front where they stood from the back. Ann, standing at the back, her ears perked for only a listen. More and more people piled up and slowed to a stop just like cars stopping at a stoplight. In a second the crowds conversations gradually diminished. The atmosphere felt unusual. Deceiving.
All heads faced forward and once silenced, the Hominum guard spoke. The chilling wind was all that was heard as they stood peering up at a Hominum guard at the front.
"Hominum Tier!" his shrill voice boomed and echoed. Everyone was completely shushed.
"The Hominum Tier Head has made his way to town square to give a quick briefing!"
With a silent step back, the guard made his way to the sidelines, and without a second lost, the Tier Head made his way to the front. His arms were folded behind his back as he took his time, clearing his throat. Stillness peaked.
"People of the Hominum Tier!" he preached. "I have been informed that in the last Mortem day... There has been a raid in their city!"
A small bout of talking arose and quickly disappeared. The man continued. "I regret to inform you that sixty men from our Tier entered their realm and have not returned due to those Mortem swine! ... Although,"
The crowd was dead silent.
"Although they have not survived, those honorable men have managed to kill forty two Mortem men, women, and children as a great accomplishment!"
The entire crowd began to cheer as if it were a huge deed. Huge to them, for Mortems were nearly impossible to kill.
"These forty two Mortem men that could raid our city themselves, women who convert our innocents to brainwashed corpses, and children who will grow in the teachings to kill our people, are now dead thanks to our soldiers who sacrifice their lives to protect our Tier!" The man's arm shot up in victory, screaming, "Long live the humans!" The people began to howl in unison.
"Burn the Mortem's down! Burn the Mortem's down! Burn the Mortem's down!" It sounded like it was their battle cry. Like it was the only words they were living off of. Shouts of men and women distinctly in the crowd. They were rowdy and bloodthirsty.
"Kill the Mortem's!"
"Rid them! Rid them all!" a man shouted near her.
Ann stood, in disbelief in what she was hearing, disgusted by the false statements that their leader brainwashed them with. What was to cheer about? This is what she was brought here for? This is why children were standing in the cold? Just to hear this rubbish? These people always spoke of how they wanted to be the ones to stop the war, how humans were going to be the ones to become the peacemakers, not Death. How was slaughtering more going to stop all of the killing? Mortem men do not raid us unless they are raided, women do not brainwash humans, and children are most certainly not taught all their lives that humans are their nations target. All of these foolish and ignorant accusations. But what did she expect? Their leader was human. Relentless and selfish, standing down for nothing until he kills the unkillable, even if it means fabricating truths to make his enemy seem like such to justify the wrongs he commits. Just so he can have his way, wrong or not. So far into it now, he will never admit that killing pointlessly is wrong, he will not attempt to make peace. It is as much human nature as the Earth is round.
She sighed. "My, they are all just lost... so lost they've forgotten the real objective... poor souls..." The woman shook her head in utter failure as if she was the one who failed and not her people.
"Burn the Mortem's down! Burn the Mortem's d..."
An uproar like the winds of a hurricane. Screams of fright and utter shock, gasping. Panic crawled down their back, some humans ran like little ants from their colony. Like an apple getting shot off the head of a fool. A sharp, cold looking object, somewhat like an icicle, wedged into the oblivious guards head next to the Hominum Tier Head. It peeked through his face, piercing and tearing right through the bridge of his nose. Blood spattering on the ground as his head smashed and his fragile neck snapped from the weight of the ice. As he fell, it became clearer. Standing in the dark window of the tall church's steeple, deep in the shadows was a eerily slender and dark figure, looming above the massive crowd. All of the heads whirled to face the grinning Mortem, high in the tower. The Hominum Tier Head simply smiled and patted his coat pocket. Faintly seen from the mass, the Mortem held a hand arched upwards, three fingers out, last bent, with his other hand in a claw-like gesture, the wind of misty ice twirled from it. Representing the Mortem Tier, with strict orders to take out only his soldiers. They stared at only the Mortem's supernatural, ominous eyes. His palm was aimed toward the guard, his hand glowing, a large smirk painted on his face. Just as loud as the bundled city's cries, voices around them blasted in unison coming from every direction,
"Long live the Mortem's!"