Johann Victor Everett was lying on his bed with many unsuccessful attempts at putting himself to rest. His head turned to the side and it stayed there for a prolonged amount of time amidst the warm bedroom, taking in the features of his wife who was soundly asleep.
He felt slightly alleviated of his worries. A portion of his burdens becoming irrelevant.
Just multiple hours ago they had been sharing the most heartfelt moment as a family, all of them—except Reina—had clumped up together and shared a cry in the evening sun. All of them being genuinely reflective on their actions.
He wasn't sure whether the blush that crept up his cheeks was because of the slight embarrassment he still felt or because of the stunning Goddess sleeping soundly besides him.
His Goddess. He could feel her breathe on his skin and it tortured him. Tortured him to think that such a person was by his side. She was someone he could call 'mine' and get away with it, and even do it every day. It tortured him to think that her kind eyes, long disheveled hair and a relaxed demeanor was everything she'd never show to anyone except him.
It tortured him to think that he'd never be enough for her.
He had returned from the expedition, project 'Exodus' Thomas had called it, and when he entered into his own home seeing his bashful wife and sulky son made the rest of the world's worries feels redundant. Not that those worries weren't catastrophic, just that when he took in their faces all that mattered for him were only the people present in the room. To know that they were still there in the first place had made his heart beat so fast in joy that his knees had given out on him and he fell to the ground with his eyes dropping to the floor.
When Anastasia had seen such a spectacle, a moment of weakness that had not occurred in a long time, he had expected her to grimace at his pitiful sight. A grown man on his knees in front of his upset wife, what kind of man was he?
Alas, such a possibility would never become true as she had dropped the telephone she had been clutching and rushed to him in an instant, coming down to his level, putting her arms on his shoulders and kissing him on the forehead telling him, "I am here. Talk to me Johann. Please. Talk to me."
It was wonderful, really.
Nothing much had happened yet the sheer magnitude of concern in her voice was partly heartbreaking and partly soothing.
Both the parents were a pair of worrywarts Johann thought that would've been the response of their kids yet when Ethan had entered the scene—his mother near tears and his father being unable to stop them—instead of faltering due to its absurdity, he had almost immediately joined in. He clutched both of them together as hard as he could like they'd disappear if he didn't have a grip on them.
He had never felt so close to his than he had on that day. The way he was holding both of them, like the way small hands hold onto sand in a beach. Like all his attempts would end up with the sand flowing out of his hand, and Johann saw a part of himself in it.
The way he hadn't allowed him to exit the house, in hindsight all of this seemed laughable. He was a man now, a boy of eighteen years with enough experience and backing so that he wouldn't get in trouble. Even if he had gotten into trouble, Johann would make sure that he didn't stay in it for long.
But Ethan had never been such a boy to garner a reaction of this volume. He hadn't been the easiest but Johann would've it preferred that if had had a say.
When the scene had calmed down and all of them were on the dining table, with all but a packets of tissues being distributed among them, he had let everything spill free. Telling Anastasia about Thomas, the bomb, the reason why he had been so stressed, and even how he planned to rectify it.
"There was still time." Johann had said, "If we pack up and leave this place then we could restart somewhere else. It may sound hard but just consider it! We're going to be hunted down here after a few weeks or even days! We could take our most precious things! Sell what we don't need and pocket the money and move to the same region where Reina is so we can also ensure that she's fine."
"Good grief it has reached such a level?" Anastasia voice, adjusting her glasses that failed to hide her red eyes.
"Dad, but what about your job?" Ethan's voice was laced with worry, something that he had almost never seen.
"I'll get a different one." The reply had no moment of hesitation, "My abilities are not just locked behind my job here, and besides your mother is a lawyer herself, she'd be able to get one in no time. So if it didn't work out then I'd just leech off my wife's earning." He had said playfully.
She sighed, "Hah...Let's just hope it would be enough to fulfill your lavish needs, okay?"
He was taken aback by the reaction, dispelling the tightness quelling up in his chest and the unsurmountable feeling of wanting to kiss his wife everywhere on her face, he thought of his own state in a new place, away from all the turbulence of the state here, away from the all unpleasant scenes he had been subjected to, away from Thomas Trivola.
It was clear now. In the following month after a signal from Johann himself that every matter to attend to had been settled, they'd quietly make their way out from the homes, taking a cab and leave their cars or sell them off to have more money in their pocket, and reach the train station where they'd board the only overseas railway system and escape to Kriheira through the gateway at Armasol, the western most region in Marlen.
They meet up with Reina and reconcile every single one of their worries as a family. They eat together at the small table again even if it was smaller. They'd get the opportunity to see each other much more often, their father would be much less stressed because nothing could be more stressful than trying to elude a patriotic maniac every waking second of his career.
Ethan would find a new college to go, he'd meet new people and find better friends. Maybe he'd fall in love and try to hide his girlfriend from them and they'd slowly discover it through the little hints he would forget to clear like a family of detectives. Reina would still be in college as she is now, but she'd be happier, even if she wasn't too happy, he'd be happy. Seeing her more from time to time would make the fire in his heart extinguish slowly with each appearance.
Yet, before any of this could happen, before they would begin such a journey of their own, Johann had to end up all open ties he still had.
And set them all on fire so they never bothered him again.
For the first time in what felt like ages, he had gotten up and actually kissed his wife goodbye and she'd kissed him back immediately, he thought that he'd have to miss the entire meeting today when her hands had gone to his waist and she wasn't willing to let go. One makeout session later and he felt he could conquer the world.
Ethan was downstairs doing what a bored late teen would do and writing his final goodbyes to the few friends he actually cared of. He planned on flipping the rest of them off but his father suggested that let the uncertainty creep up on them. That their friend had just disappeared and their inhumane actions would attract his vengeful spirit to them. Every single coincidence, every accidental squeak of furniture, the blowing of the winds rattling doors and shingles and even the many misfortunes to come, they might think that they have doomed themselves to lifelong suffering. Ethan had shook his head, "I'm not that important. They wouldn't be bothered."
A pained smile had emerged on Johann's face and he put his arm on Ethan's shoulder. They spat bullshit with one another, giggling like little girls until Anastasia descended down the stairs, stared from the corner for a while unable get her eyes off the shared secret between her husband and her son, then scolded Johann for not leaving yet. Even her reprimanding made his ache for her.
Masochist.
Anyways, he had taken off from his home with smiles and a determination unshaken by anything he would encounter. He didn't take the car today, he wasn't planning on going to the government office.
He had rushed to the train station instead that had taken him to the small town between Old Magshire and Rakansas, El Medigol, a region of serene environments and big lakes. He had gotten off to find his clothing, which consisted of a dark blue jacket and jeans, something his wife had forced him because he'd still need to look presentable even if unrecognizable, unfitting to the fast, unrelenting gales of this region.
It was a lush place, with vine creeping up the houses, marshes creeping on many corners, the buzzing of crickets and flies raging all across the town without halt. This had been a place where he had spent his former days, the newbie he was when he had just joined the government as a support staff and crept his way through the ranks and just when he thought he'd never be able to progress further, the old republic fell.
Carrying Douglas Campbell's legacy forward, ____ Campbell had succeed in recruiting the people he needed to overthrow the government at the time which had been reelecting itself through a series of rigged voting campaigns and propaganda that lied to them in their faces.
One of these had been the notion that the Aaergalian, as not belonging to their own country were fraudsters, scammers, petty thieves and even murderers who'd do anything for a penny.
In a mad fit of childish rage and even fear that his family, which lived in a small place but still not dissatisfactory (A wife studying and being able to become a lawyer that allowed him to ease some of his worries, or a lot of them in fact.), he had joined in the movement. This was the first time where he met Campbell. Before setting fire to the Old Republican Parliament, they had gotten themselves almost killed at their meeting spot.
The Church of the Goddess Mai.
Not a deity that he had ever heard of in his life, it was a secure religion he heard from the locals of this area, one that had migrated from Kriheria to here and spread throughout. Even though many people still chose to not believe in God, there were very few who didn't known the name of the Goddess and had sung at least one name in her praise like a child requesting God to fulfill his transitory desires.
Along with the Goddess it was also a small land of lush rice fields and sugarcanes which were hard to grow in a country like Marlen but through the Goddess's grace and their persistence to not let go of their roots, they had succeeded in setting up plantations and even making them profitable.
The town was booming.
But the church was destroyed.
There had been plans to repair it, but when it had blown into bits the town was still in heavy debt and as time crept on, it took its toll on the church and moss had made his way to many of its walls, nature had claimed the place as its own.
So they let it go.
That was the word they used.
Let it go.
Instead of abandoned it.
Johann held the church in high regards, not only because of the teachings you surely could still make out that were engraved on its walls, but mainly because of the days and nights he'd spent here, some in agony and other in utter joy as they planned how to attack and reclaim the Old Republican seat as their own.
The location of the church was found out during one of the meetings though and it had been Leofric who rushed many of them out the door and safeguarded them. If not then he was sure that he would've been dead. The thought that had never crossed his mind was how.
How was Leoric aware of the implanted bomb when never of them hadn't seen it. He said that it was the echo of ticking that he had heard in his ear repeatedly and gotten paranoid.
He had said that to Johann, the epitome of what man would consider paranoia. If he had heard that ticking he'd rushed out everyone first then his mind would've suddenly taken charged and delusioned him that even back home there could be a bomb implanted underneath the floorboards, "What do you mean there's no space there? Doesn't matter a bomb's a bomb it'll explode and kill us."
He might have abandoned the entire mission and ran back home.
And that was he always had done. In the name of family, he had always deserted his responsibilities, always chosen his family.
Which, for him, was the right choice so he never questioned it. When he did, like currently as he walked through the moist, cool air like a gigantic fan was greeting him from a distance, he realized in his own mind that he didn't care.
He didn't care whether he had been a good citizen or not. Whether his efforts had saved thier country or not. He would never choose anything over his family and that was a fact never to change.
Even all of this, coming back to the church was just an attempt to salvage what he could before running off with his family to a new place he'd call home.
The warm sunlight shone through the tinted glass of the church's front. The rest of the sunlight broke through the shattered walls and the many holes of gunshots.
When he entered, he was mesmerized.
The gate led to a small clearing, it was rectangular in shape with the front being curved into a triangular area. Grass had made its triumph on the ground and covered the entire floor, the wall to his left was wide open and sunlight intruded through it like an unwelcomed guest that would soon become permanent. He could see the dust particles dancing in the air. The white walls with the many defects and visibility of the brick wall underneath. The muffled buzzing of crickets from the outside and the undisturbed Romanesque portrait of the side view of a woman's face. Her long black falling freely over her shoulders and till her knees. A laurel wreath floating just above her head and her face, the left side of it, divine and satisfied.
Underneath the portrait was a text that had been overtaken by moss, Johann pushed it aside and read it,
"For those who wish to die in remembrance, and only in their legacy, when place in the position of the remembering shall weep so hard the angels hear their cries and heaven is unable to quell it."
His reverie was broken when the old wooden door creaked open and a figure stood, leaning against its frame. His shoulders broad and his voice ruffian like.
"Someone decided to show up aye? Gonna keep staring the at the paintin' or plannin' or come in?" He said mischievously.
Johann stood back, "Why are you here?"
"Huh? You expectin' me to stay out of this? That Trivola influence makin' you a retard or somethin'?"
The room lay behind the church hall, it boasted a modest clergy table that had been shifted to the centre along with long cathedral glass spanning all through the tall room. It depicted a scene of the Goddess Mai, ascending from the depths of the Marlen oceans to bring prosperity to the land.
It was a beautiful piece and he might've appreciated it for a long time if he hadn't noticed the three of them already making plans near the clergy table.
"Mister! How are you?"
"You took long, Mr. Everett."
"It was necessary. I had to make sure everything was in place before I came here." He said with a low smile."
"Well what's done, done. Now Johann, mind lookin behind ya?" He said with a grin.
Johann raised his eyebrows at the request, expecting to find more people willing to join in on what was basically a suicide mission in a way.
Some would've called it patriotic however he believed he had gotten the correct analogy of it. It was a foolish move. No people high up in the government would want to risk their professions and careers and not everyone had a brilliant wife to back them up if that did happen, so it was astounding that Nicholas was the one who had called for this to happen and for Johann to be included.
A man stood, his shoulder drooping along his black tailored suit. He was looking at the windows, the sunlight was burning his skin pleasantly. The patch of white hair on his head had grown significantly less than he remembered and when the man turned to meet his gaze, he smiled.
Johann rushed forward and bent to Campbell's level.
He gestured to him all sorts of things. He had so many questions to ask him. Where was he all this time? What was he planning? Why was he here?
Out of which the only one that he answered was, by turning his hands slowly in a pattern and halfway through allowing Johann to finish the rest on his own.
He was here, he had said. That was what mattered. Johann chuckled. It was him, an answer that only he could give.
The five of stood near the table, Nicholas taking out a map and lying it on the clergy table.
"Nicholas. We do not plan on invading. A map wasn't needed." Thea said indifferently.
"What do ya freaks know? It sets the mood. We can't be overtakin the governmen' without good ol' plannin' like a bunch of heisters."
"OOO! Are we going to break into banks!" Came the energetic followup.
Campbell smiled, asking them to hold their horses. Nicholas straightened himself and began his lengthy explanation of two lines.
"We're bout to start some riot bois."