Heir to None

United we Fell | Part III

Another day of hard labour and endless white awaited. Soldiers either glared at me, bumped me and either didn't notice me or didn't care (I believe it's a bit of both). Powder snow swirled in the breeze, and its biting cold left me ragged. Many quivers of arrows got strapped to my back and waist which, when adding the hefty amount I held between my arms, did not make for a light load. Of course, there was worse out there, and I was thankful not to be forced to do such tasks, but even then, couldn't I complain a little? Internally I could whine all I wanted. Still, if I were to vocalise those grievances, then I would only earn myself a thorough beating, and when it was war veterans doing the blows, let's say it isn't fun. Arriving at the shooting range was simple enough. I handed the arrows to a petite soldier with a clump of blazing carmine hair upon his head which ended in fire gold tips.

'Dyed? Probably,'. Upon glancing up at the clock, I found I had some time to spare. I decided to watch the soldiers fire away for 10 minutes. I watched as their arrows whistled through the air and listened to the soothing thrum of the bowstrings. When it came time to head back to the arrow hut, I sped away. I tried to keep a swift yet steady pace. The right side of my vision was clouded and lacked the sharp edges of objects and the brightness of colours. Running for me was harder than most. That was not just because the aches and pains racking my body but also for my horrible vision in my right eye. It was a pale verdant green which looked almost milky, to contrast, my left was a deep hazel colour with wisps of grey like that of smoky wood. I arrived there and headed in, the chain clanking as I did so. I was glad to see I made it on time, but only just.

I stepped inside, greeting the warmth that brushed my skin. The sight was so familiar that it calmed me down and yet made my pulse leap into overdrive at the same time. After finding an unoccupied spot, I hunkered down and commenced fletching. I strengthened shafts and examined goose feathers. 2 or 3 more hours went by in that fashion. Perspiration clung stubbornly to my forehead. My hands felt as if being impaled by metal spikes of pain. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and continued work.

"Azaz, you've been given free time for the next hour, I advise you rest up since you've been worked down to the bone lately" one of the few pleasant officers called out as I slaved away in the hut. I was quite shocked, but I wasn't just going to turn down an opportunity like that. A few others were granted offs alongside myself though I hardly knew any of them. I let the camp's wintry air envelop me once more.

Outside soldiers milled about while some still trained diligently. I deviated in and out of the light crowds and began to seek out a place to sit down and take a breather. There was a barrel of dull daggers and modest knives. Beside it, there were several mortar steps on which I presumed you were supposed to sit on as you sharpen your weapons. I recognised the girl from yesterday sitting on the bottom-most level, poking and prodding at the dirt with a thick branch. I turned to find another spot to take a break; however, as I was about to leave, I felt a nagging tug at my sleeve. Upon glancing back, I found it was the girl who was behind it.

I was puzzled by sight but decided to humour her implicit request. I joined her on the concrete slab. We just squatted there like that for several minutes: with her sticking it to the soil and me silently observing. "What is your name?" she wrote. I wasn't expecting that.

"Azaz," I replied "My name is Azaz.L.Nephlis. Your's?" I reply. 'strange' I think to myself. The girl stomps away the previous catechism and in its place writes. "Lillian.S.Raff".

'Raff? I feel like I've heard that before weren't they those, no. No, that's not it. Was it?' I wondered

"Where do you work?" came Iris's voice. I was startled by actually hearing it. So much so that I jumped a few centimetres. It was so gentle, so innocent, almost like the soft caress of silky fingers. As if an angel were talking away my wounds. There, however, was one minor problem; she also sounded dead.

"At the arrow hut."

"I see." she wrote as her simple response.

"Where do you work?" I asked back

"I work in the animal stocks. Mainly nursing the ill or wounded."

"Huh."

The conversation stagnated. Eventually, Lillian decided to get up and walk away. The chain locked in a vice around her esophagus clinking and clanging as she moved. Her graceful movements still held that slight clumsy notion. Accentuated by the fact that she fell flat on her face the moment after. A sight chuckle left me as I helped her up; my hands carefully grasping her delicate skin. It was as smooth as the most beautiful porcelain and as soft as a silken pillow.

"You saw nothing," she said as I put her legs beneath her.

"Understood," was my straightforward reply.

As she left, all the cordiality in my eyes faded. Breaking away to reveal the gaping voids of cerebral despair that greeted me all too often. Turning to the bladed weapons besides myself, my brain began working overtime.

'If I could get this into my room and avoid being found out, then that would be an incredible step forward. There are many guards I'd have to evade if I wished to take it in. Not to mention the fortnightly room inspections. If I could somehow get it onto the roof, then they wouldn't find it nor know who planted it there, but then I would be unable to make use of it. There isn't even a guarantee that it will still be there if I get to look for it.' my mind pained from the exertion, but I kept pushing. The mental gears kept functioning at their feverish pace. Creaking and groaning, resisting in fear of overload. 'At any rate' I thought 'I should at least take one.' And so, I did. I pulled out a small, fold-out gut knife that was semi sharpened. After some more internal debate, I placed the gut knife underneath a large rock. Following that, I nestled in a little nook beneath the building in front of me and the ground before covering it in a nearby tawny cloth. I topped it off by strewing sticks, leaves and pebbles on it before wrapping it in a thick layer of snow. The hiding place was done. 'I guess that is something done today'.