Evidently stressed, General Fyodor rested lazily against his hand, watching me. He was much older than me but still young in his 30s. With bored green eyes, soft brown brows, and a lazy smile, I guessed he'd be considered a conventionally handsome man. His hair, which resembled yellow satin, framed his heart face and animated his masculine youthfulness.
However, whenever chaos stirred everywhere around him, he looked a little older, and his forehead creased a little deeper.
Fyodor addressed me after a while of puzzle connecting and silence. "This is neither the first nor second time you've delayed an assignment this month. You do know a captain can't lead his fleet if everyone is not in attendance, don't you?" A moment of considering me, "Should I have you housed here, at the base, instead? Perhaps giving you the freedom to commute is what's—"
"No!" I leaned forward, imploring with my eyes. "Please, I'll be on time from now on. If…If possible, I want to continue living with my family."
With a sigh that straightened his thin lips, Fyodor said, "I'll need to submit attendance and time logs to our Chief at the Capital."
His voice penetrated me firmly, but the dismay that followed his words told me I'd put the general in a hard place.
I knew it wasn't because Fyodor desired to, that he'd be reporting my insubordinate actions.
There were six officer ranks in the United States military. Private First, Private Second, Captain, Lieutenant, General, and Chief. Despite the Chief of Military's mysterious identity, secret to everyone below Lieutenant status, he'd always been strangely focused on me, a Private Second Rank, from his throne in the Capital. This required Fyodor to report my failures and accomplishments to him directly.
So, I could only respond with, "I understand."
Before speaking again, Fyodor connected another few pieces of the puzzle. "However, I think your irresponsibility may be pardoned." Pausing, he bore burning eyes into mine. "Because you've gathered plenty of useful information lately, the Chief demands an update from me, which leaves me no choice but to pester you. You've only been permitted to roam the forests freely without authority because of the mission you've taken upon yourself. Do you understand what I'm asking for?"
I reached into my pocket. Guilt pricked my fingers where they grazed the slip of paper. I slid it forward on the desk.
"This is not a schoolhouse, private." His eyes stayed on me. "If you don't mind reading it to me."
Please don't make me, I begged inwardly, but to voice this would bring my loyalty into question. So, and very reluctantly, I retrieved the slip. "There will be a conference in January of next year in the west, where the four leaders will gather and discuss how to handle their conflict with us. They'll probably propose a war."
With widening eyes, Fyodor took the information down. Then, he leaned forward with satisfied movements. "Very good. Your information about the rain served our troops stupendously. It's almost comical that our intel gatherers had been too cowardly to realize. Although the forests aren't completely barren of elves during storms, the danger is reduced significantly. Thanks to you."
Cords of guilt tightened around my gut. And I nodded once, undeserving of the general's gratitude when it took betraying my friend to get it. I hadn't intended for things to be this way, but with Ruith freely divulging confidential information about his world, I selfishly decided to use it to bargain for my family.
My superiors believed I was manipulating and taking advantage of the enemy.
Were they wrong?
"Now," Fyodor pushed his puzzle aside, indicating our conversation would increase in severity, "there is something else I want to discuss with you."
My lips twitched. I had nothing more to offer as I'd already given up everything useful. So, if Fyodor requested more of me, it was because he had no choice but to.
He folded his hands neatly on the desk. I grew anxious.
My illness was known to the general, as was the truth that I was dying, and out of consideration for me, he'd always put as much time between the missions I was assigned as possible. And because health assessments were mandatory every month, the Chief, who was so interested in me, also knew of my condition, and therefore considered me an expendable soldier.
I had a roster of dangerous tasks I'd been assigned because of this.
"But before that," Fyodor continued. "You mentioned something about an elemental core. An elf's second heart. Have you discovered where it's located yet? The specimens our scientists dissected seemed to have nothing of the sort, but it's possible they didn't know what they were looking for."
Of course I knew where it was. Because Ruith had trusted me as his friend and given that information to me.
"I want to show you something." Ruith took my hand and pressed it to the left of his bare abdomen. With expectant eyes, he asked, "Do you feel that?"
There was a pulse beneath my palm so intense that it was as if his skin were trembling. And his skin felt warmer in this spot, practically vibrating beneath my fingers. "Is this…?"
He nodded. "It is. My core. It works hard to pump magic into my blood, so it is always accessible. Without it, any elf would die."
"You'd die without this?" I pulled my hand away, suddenly afraid to harm him. "Why did you tell me about it then?"
Ruith grinned broadly. "You're my friend. You should know my strengths and weaknesses. And because you've already shared a weakness with me, it was only fair I did the same." Then, looking away, he shrugged. "It isn't as though all elves have their core in their abdomen. Some are lucky and have them concealed beneath their feet or behind their knees. It is different for everyone."
"Private," Fyodor called, pulling me out of my memory.
I aggressively wiped my tired eyes. "In the center of their chest. That's where they store it."
Without doubting me, he took that down. "Can they will it to move?"
I debated lying about that, too, but decided on the truth. "No."
After a nod, Fyodor studied me for a while, something like penitence dousing the flames of gold in his eyes. "The Chief assigned me a mission for you. Something he claims only you can do."
Expendable. If my illness didn't take me out first, the Chief's suicide missions would. Impatiently and anxiously, I expected the worst.
"Our military aims to prevent the capture of our soldiers at all costs. Humans are quite obedient when threatened with death. We know many of our men would rather give the enemy confidential information than be executed. It's a naïve hope, knowing they'll likely be killed anyway."
"Why are you telling me this?" I inquired nervously.
Fyodor's lips tightened. "The Chief of Military has given you this mission directly. He needs you to infiltrate elven territory, the heart of the nearest province. There, you'll implant surveillance the Chief's immediate unit can use to oversee their operations. Do you think you can do it?"
Nearly scoffing at that, my voice shook with growing frustration. "Why me? Why is the Chief so obsessed—"
"It isn't as if our units aren't able to. Rather, we've been ordered to play safely. Because of your condition, I presume, you've been chosen." Fyodor struggled to reveal this and looked pained after doing so. "If you were to be captured, the Chief trusts a dying man won't be startled by their threats. All information you possess about our operations will stay with you."
Not good enough. "I can't be the only guy in the military that's sick. There must be another reason he's targeting me."
I expected an answer, but Fyodor withheld the confession at the tip of his tongue. He knew something, and he wouldn't give it up.
My jaw clenched. "And if I refuse? Why do we need to spy on their side anyway?"
His gaze steeled almost mechanically. "To preserve the human race, it has always been the military's goal to exterminate the elves. To do that, we must learn everything about them, from their speech to the grains of their magic."
Exterminate? Murder? That hadn't been what I signed up for. No…I'd only wanted to provide a decent life for my family by protecting my town. However, the superiors desired a war that would accumulate devastating casualties on both sides. My family could be affected. Ruith could be. There was an anxious film in my mouth that I struggled to swallow. It went against my morals to agree with the military's intentions, but I was also terrified of what the consequences of rejecting them would earn me.
"And is this goal something you're okay with? Exterminating an entire race just to save our own? That can't be right," I argued.
Considering my stance, Fyodor leaned back in his seat. "It does not matter what I believe. I exist solely to receive orders and assign them. So, if I believed annihilating even the innocents of the elven community were wrong, I couldn't take any action."
"Couldn't or wouldn't?"
His eyes narrowed at me, not answering.
Indecisive and frantic, I shook my head. My eyes rattled. Sweat dripped from my chin and onto my already damp shirt. "I don't think I can contribute to something like that…I'm sorry."
A moment passed, and then Fyodor walked around the desk to join me. His hand was gentle on my head and encouraged me to look at him.
I looked up into his deep green eyes. In them were rings of golden warmth and tenderness that were nearly imperceptible. But upon closer inspection, anyone could see them. His mouth curved just a little at the ends, although his long hair worked to hide it from me. Fyodor brushed a lock behind his ear.
From this angle, he looked so kind, like a guardian watching over me and not a general sending me to war.
On his usually stoic expression, his smile lifted just a little more, considerate of me. "You know I wouldn't make you lessen your life expectancy. My offer still stands. If you take it now, you won't be required to risk your life."
"Your offer to stealthily have me sent across the country to live out the rest of my days is very generous, sir, but no matter how nice it is…I just can't leave my family behind."
"Unfortunately, they will be left behind anyway," Fyodor regretfully reminded me. Then his smile faded, and a solemn countenance favored him. "Take the offer. You're young, and it isn't fair to you to die so soon. If there is a way to extend your life by even a little, you should latch onto it."
He made a great point. When I died, I'd leave my family behind anyway, but fleeing to avoid the Chief's mistreatment felt no different than abandoning them. Sharply, I inhaled, acknowledging yet again the predicament I was in.
Regardless of the decision I chose, I'd lose.
I was very grateful to the general for having looked out for me after all this time. And I smiled sadly at him.
He slid his hand from my hair, positioned it on my shoulder. Angst creased around his eyes despite his determination to harden his expression. "You've made up your mind, then."
"Yeah." I pulled my eyes away, not wanting to see the disappointment Fyodor drilled into my skin. Reaching across the desk, I pulled the puzzle towards me. "Tell the Chief I'm not willing to do this without a deal."
"That's fair." Fyodor put a hand over mine, stopping me mid-distraction. "Whatever you desire, I'll ensure they give it to you."
My smile at him was sad but gratuitous. "My mother will need more money for my sisters at home. And my stepfather's hospital bills need to be covered. Our insurance won't cover all of it."
"And for yourself?" Fyodor pressed, indicating he did not believe my demands to be enough recompense considering the mission I would take on.
I was exhausted. So exhausted. "Everything I do for them is enough for me. When I die, whether on the front lines or in my own bedroom, I want you to take them far away from the desserts here and give them a good life in the city. Guarantee me that, and I'll give my life to this mission."
Discontented, his brows drew over dismayed eyes. "I guarantee it will happen. For your sake."
Standing, I smiled a little and patted his shoulder. "Thank you. You can tell the Chief I'll have this done within the next two months." I left for the door.
"Are you certain…Simon?" Fyodor asked, referring to his earlier offer. And he was rarely hesitant when he spoke, but right now, nerves and worry bled from his words.
I paused, but I didn't turn around. If I could take my family with me, I would have snagged Fyodor's offer when he'd presented it. But doing that would alarm the military, and they'd conclude I'd fled. We wouldn't live peacefully with officers after us.
So regretfully, I answered him. "Thank you, Fyodor, but I've made up my mind."
I couldn't see him, but I imagined him grounding his teeth together in that subtle way he did whenever he was frustrated. In the end, he couldn't have done anything to alter my decision.
Fyodor shouldn't care so much about me anyway. He was only hurting himself.
"Go home tonight. We'll discuss the specifics of your mission once the captains return from Nevada," were the last words he gave me.
In the elevator, I fell against the cold wall. My eyes caught my dark reflection before me. What kind of person was I to exploit someone to create a better life for others? A kind person would have found a way to help both sides. A way no one had to be used.
I was no better than the Chief: a person who would readily sacrifice one for a hundred.
If miraculously I survived infiltrating the elven world, would I be able to warn Ruith of the military's plans? He would hate me. He might even try to kill me. I didn't care anymore. I'd made a great deal for my family so they would survive without me. Life in the city was extravagant, luxurious, and abundant. And for my family to experience that one day made me feel indescribably content. For the first time, they'd live.
Fighting the inevitable had exhausted me for many years. I was tired. Truly. The sooner I died, the sooner my family would be brought out of suffering.
Nell might feel lost without me. Fyodor might retreat to the dark. But they'd survive. However, not having more time with Ruith, the boy who'd made me feel like I could experience joy forever, would weigh on my heart the heaviest.