Pov: Eirian Heddwyn
'The gods must be sad.' Looking up to the sky, the tears of the gods were falling upon the world.
I had just gotten off the bus, and paused to listen to the hum of the ember stones that powered it. I admired the orange-reddish crystal before the bus drove off. My mother loved the color. She still wore her ember stone wedding ring even after my father's death.
As I made my way to the academy, dropped off at the entrance, sirens were going off. I hadn't even taken more than a few steps before I heard its ringing. Over the coms that run through the whole academy, they told us that missiles were coming our way and to make our way to the bunker.
Air raids weren't uncommon, with the world being at war for ten thousand years. Just this year, a few hundred thousand died in air raids alone. Dropping my backpack, I start to make my way to shelter.
On the way there, I could see blood stained the stonewalls of buildings and bodies trampled out in the quad. The clock tower rang as if it were calling reapers from hell. There were even some people whose heads were split open. Some of the faces I recognized. They were peers—some professors.
When I arrived at the bunker, an officer stood at the foot of the vault-like door that was embedded in the mountain at the center of the academy. He wore a gray coat with stars and various symbols on it. It was apparent he was important, but even with the flashy outfit, that wasn't what stood out. It was the students behind him who stood on the platform, as well as the ones who were dead on the floor. People were fighting to get in.
"Isn't this fun!" The officer shouted at the top of his lungs, laughing hysterically. He turned to face the students on the platform and then back to us, waiting for a response.
'What the heck is this?' I thought.
Looking disappointed, he continued. "Come on, you guys get to be a part of the second awakening. You should be happy!" He looked up to the sky, flaring out his arms. His face gleamed out of excitement.
Still not getting a reaction, he lowered his tone, looked towards me and the other students, almost sulking, and said, "Aw, you guys are really no fun."
I felt a lump develop in my throat, and my mouth became dry. It was the first day of the new semester, and I was in my second year, but this whole situation was unheard of.
Ten people stood around me—all students, with about a dozen or more fallen. They all had knives, which students typically carried, as a gift from their families before heading off to the academy. Their uniforms were all bloodied up. Some tossed their blazers to the side with their button-up sleeves rolled up, while others had a sweater vest, but you could barely make out the blue from it. The pavement was soiled with a crimson-like color, all being washed away by the rain.
"Well, clearly you guys aren't as excited as I am, so just get on with it. Get to killing." He shot his gun in the air, startling some of us.
Some people stood tense about the whole situation, while others wanted to avoid fighting at all costs. I—well, I was in the second group. Firstly, I did not want to die; no man does, but above that, I did not want to kill. I have never done so in my life.
"I said get to killing." The officer let out a few more shots, since no one moved an inch.
Just then, one of the ten students, tired of waiting, made the first move. His hair was golden and his eyes were a pale blue. He lunged towards the person closest to his right, throwing the knife accurately into the eye of his opponent. Meeting its target, he closed the gap in an instant—stepped on his knee that was slightly bent out of anguish, grabbed the knife, and twisted it. Pulling the knife out, the eye clung to the blade. As the man then collapsed onto the floor, the golden-haired man stabbed him straight to the heart, killing him.
Some others and I don't dare to make a move—scared of being next. The way he fought made my stomach turn.
Three men charged at him, hoping that it would give them a chance, but he found an opportunity to isolate one of them, slicing his neck. That man instantly dropped to the floor, lifeless.
As I watched him take care of the other two, I could hear someone running at me from behind.
'Shit.' Panicking, I turned around towards the man charging at me.
He was closer than I expected. I fell back, hoping to create some space, but that didn't work out. The student who was charging at me held a knife in a reverse grip. He aimed for my face, leaving very little room for me to dodge. I felt the knife graze my cheek, causing my blood to drip onto the stone pavement.
After failing to dodge the first strike, I tried to create more distance. The only issue was that since the pavement was wet, I could lose my footing if I was not careful. The man took advantage of this fact and stayed on me, attacking one moment after the other. Barely managing to keep up with the stranger's movements, I dodged most of his slashes and only received a few grazes. It forced me to keep my eyes wide open. I could not lose focus.
Just then, after he made a careless attack. Not hesitating, I got up close to him, pushing his attacking arm out from his elbow, where I saw the man's face full of bloodlust fade. His eyes, which were dilated just a moment ago, returned to their normal state, allowing me to see his emerald eyes. I thrust my hand into his neck. He fell back, coughing.
I keep the pressure going, trying to get up close and pin him to the ground. I took the head-on approach, not wasting a second. It was when I do, that I noticed that he recovered, and rather quickly. He changed his grip so now he was holding it in a standard position. Noticing the change in stance, I had to divert my plan since I could not change direction so easily mid-lunge.
He thrust his blade straight for my face, but before it could meet me, I made my way to the outside of his arm. I kicked his knee from the side, causing him to collapse. He loosened his grip on the knife, causing it to fall onto the pavement. Quickly, not wasting time, I grabbed it. I can hear him groan—he stood there, lying in pain.
'Did the ten thousand years of war and killing manage to make even the gods cry?' Were they sad watching us all fight? The fact that the whole world was at war with each other?
I can feel my heart start to fill with deep sorrow. To know that this is all we had to live for. That there was no life outside the war, where people could live in peace. I come out here to build myself a life where I could, but even behind the safe walls of the empire, that doesn't seem possible. All I wanted was to not be in those shitting wastelands and eat decent food for once. To not die like my father. To take care of my mother—to allow her to have a decent life, one where she didn't have to worry if she would have food and water the next day. I let these emotions sink into me. Feeling hatred, sorrow, hopelessness, and despair—despair knowing there is no escape.
I walked up to the man lying on the floor. Getting on top of him, knowing this was my chance to kill him, or else he was going to kill me. I would be left out here as the missile fell onto the academy. I could not let that happen—I have a mother to look after.
Bringing the knife above my head, I could feel the rain pouring harder. My pupils dilated, my breathing grew heavier, and I could start to hear the drums of war in my chest. It was then that I closed my eyes and brought down the knife, stabbing him. Or so I tried to. My body worked against me. It did not let me kill him.
Noticing I hadn't brought down the knife, I tried thrusting the blade one more time, but my hand didn't move. Then, again and again, until I finally began to feel frustrated.
"Get over yourself!" I told myself. "Fuck!"
I dropped the knife, chest feeling heavy, knowing I would not see tomorrow—that I would not see my mother again. I could feel my white hair drape over my eyes, wet from the rain.
The man below me groaned just for a few chuckles to seep out. He was reaching for the knife. I did not stop him.
'I'm sorry, Mom, I'll see you in the afterlife.' I will soon reach paradise.
Grabbing the knife, he brought it up to my neck as I sat upon him—I don't dare to look down. I closed my eyes, waiting for it to happen.
*Clank*
A few seconds passed by and nothing happened. Confused, I opened my eyes and saw the golden-haired man standing in front. I looked down, and a knife was piercing his skull.
"What the-" I let out.
"And that is it, folks!" The officer yelled, interrupting any thoughts I had. "Five spots in the bunkers remain, and five people stand. The spots are filled." I could hear the officer giddy about the whole situation.
The golden-haired man walked past me, making his way to the platform.
'He killed him.'
I was about to die, and he killed him. No, more importantly, I was about to kill a man. A feeling of disgust started to swell within me, so much so that I almost threw up on the spot.
"Man sitting on the floor, get over here, or I'll leave you to die out here with the rest of the corpses." The officer yelled, since I had not moved an inch.
"Right," I let out in a mournful tone, "my bad."
As I got up from the corpse, I could feel my knees get weak and my hands start to shake. I could feel the strain from my muscles pushing themselves too much, the shallow cuts on my face, the lightheadedness from blood loss, and the true gore of the situation.
Making my way to the door, I looked back one final time to find the corpses of my peers in puddles of blood, getting soaked by the rain. My heart ached, and I continued making my way to the door where the officer greeted me, smiling. The only problem was that I could not hear him. The world had become quiet to me. Almost as if I were underwater. All I saw were the bodies outside the door, dead.
Gears turned, and the ember stones hummed. The door was closing, and the platform descended.