The Silhouette Queen

Alexander lay against the caravan wall, trying as hard as possible to stay away from the rain, but the wind had driven the rain into the shelter, spraying him with generous amounts of water. It was the driver he felt jealous of. The tiny old man had pulled a large woven basket from behind and covered himself completely with it. All Alex could see of the man were the edges of his boots poking out from under the cover. Yoldru had gotten a seat deeper inside. He was completely dry, and any time the wind acted up, Alex had to turn his way and meet a toothy smile, which made Alexander want to punch a few off his set of thirty-two.

The horses didn't care about being wet. They still moved along the path without any guidance from the old man, who Alex felt was asleep under the big cover. "All you can hope is that he knows what he's doing." Yoldru mused as he brushed his sandy hair off his forehead. "Old men seem to die quicker. Thank god I wasn't born an old man."

Alex sighed. "You're sure you gave the right directions, aren't you? It wasn't supposed to take this long, Yolds."

"Don't call me Yolds, it sounds like molds." Yoldru snapped. "I'm pretty sure I told him Gatria. I don't know what the nutcase heard." He pointed at the driver under his rain-proof shell. 

Alexander looked out of the caravan. All he could see was green grass and weeds, smothered over by thick mist, wispily clinging to each blade and leaf. Going home wasn't as exciting as he thought it would be. Three long days of sitting and eating stale, hard bread and drinking funny smelling water didn't make it much better. At least he was going to be home, meeting old friends, his family. Returning to your roots, eh? It's all fun and good until you realise how much dirt surrounds it… he remembered an old man saying something along those lines.

The wagon squealed as it rolled along the now muddy path, the horses still not in the least bothered. Alexander leaned back to pull out his sword from the luggage. "Are you gonna stab me or something?" Yoldru asked, slight concern in his voice. Alexander shook his head. He just wanted to see how far he'd come.

To Alex, his sword was like a key to his past. Layers and layers of his life all converged around this one not really attractive but really dangerous piece of metal.

Alexander could see the sword's age just by looking at it. His father had bought it for him when he turned eleven. He always wanted to be a soldier. The pommel was just a metal sphere, deformed after he tried to break open a coconut with it. How did you not know it was hollow? His father had asked him. Even the coconut was hollow! He answered back.

The grip had earned a deep cleft after his second defence class, where his mentor sliced and almost cut off half his hand. The guard was a little bent from all the sword locking, and the blade had numerous chips and cracks. He'd lost the scabbard long back, but could still remember its wooden frame and earthy scent.

"You know, you two should really kiss." Yoldru gestured to Alex and his sword. "I can't handle all this suspense."

Alexander was thinking of a fitting reply when the driver suddenly called out. "Dis cart can't go furder! Guest must walk on their own!" Yoldru shot the driver the look of raw fury, but the driver didn't notice it under his shell. Alex sighed. A little walk wouldn't do any harm. "Come on, Yolds. Let's just walk." 

Yoldru looked like he wanted to protest, but gathered his belongings and got down, swearing generously at the driver. "You aren't getting more than fifteen gold, assclown!"

As he went to argue with the driver, Alex shoved his sword into a bag, careful that it didn't tear through the fabric, and shouldered his rucksack, which contained nothing more than stale bread, his armour and some golden coins. He stepped off the road, his boots almost fully covered in mud, his dark hair plastered onto his face, and slightly shivering in the rain. Yoldru came storming as the wagon creakingly wheeled away. "That imp ripped us off! Seventeen coins! For what? I can't even see where we are!"

Alexander's eyes drifted to the western horizon, where could see the outlines of a wall and watering wheel. "Actually… we might not be that far off." A smile grew on his face as he trudged toward the house. Faintly familiar… he thought as Yoldru walked beside him, unable to stop cursing the driver. "Oldilocks!" "Crack his bald head open!" "Stick him to my sword and swing him around!"

But as they drew closer, even Yoldru had shut up, now fixated on the farmhouse. "Wait a moment… is that old Sue's?" 

To call it a house had to be an overstatement. Weeds and mud now covered the once lush fields surrounding the house. The cobble path was gone, probably buried under the washed up mud. The house itself was in a state beyond bad. Alex dropped his rucksack onto a stone, but kept his sword with himself. What was then a large two-storey building had been reduced to a wooden shell. Pillars of stone had fallen over, wooden planks broken and splintered. The heavy mist and faint wind kept the water wheel spinning, drawing water for a phantom farm. "What the hell…" was all Alexander could say, his arm warily hovering over the hilt of his sword. Alex crossed what remained of the front door and walked into the house, Yoldru following his steps. "Alex, look here," he said, his voice shaking slightly. 

Alex turned to where Yoldru pointed. Burn marks streaked across the wooden surface, turning the light brown to dead black. Alex looked around. He could see it everywhere. Burnt wooden on the floor. The dark, sticky matter he was standing on wasn't mud. It was ash. "Holy shit," he whispered. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know… let's just check the main square." Yoldru suggested as they hurried off, fetching their rucksacks as they jogged through the knee-high weeds. What could have happened? 

Alexander stopped. Yoldru did so just in time, as if they were thinking the same thing. They both stared at each other as they noticed a wall that had not been there before. Unsheathing his blade, he walked more cautiously toward the wall, following Yoldru. He could see the hasty construction, the wooden planks and large stones arranged haphazardly along the high wall. It curled around the village, probably completely surrounding it. As they walked closer, Alex noticed a head disappear from the top of the wall before them, then a voice ordered. "HALT!" 

They both immediately obliged. Yoldru turned back with an uneasy glance as the voice began again. "Drop your swords!" Alexander realised that the voice was familiar. He tapped Yoldru with the flat of his sword. "Is that Stammon?" he asked, feeling quite sure that it was.

"I'm pretty sure that's Stammon." Yoldru mirrored him. "Should we try to talk?"

"I think so."

"Drop your swords or we'll shoot!" Alex could see a head appear over the top of the wall. "Stammon?" Alex asked loudly. Silence. He thought it would be a wise to drop his sword. "Stammon, is that you?"

"Stammon, it's Yoldru and Alex!" Yoldru joined in. 

They heard a loud thud and some murmuring. Then a thin man walked toward them from the wall. As he approached, Alex could make out the wispy white hair, the enormous nose and the knobbly elbows, all signs of Stammon, just aged. As the old man came within ten feet, he halted and squinted for a moment, then let out a tired sigh. His face lines crinkled as a smile formed. "Well then, welcome back."

He escorted them through the gates, guiding them into a wooden room within the wall, lit by torches and above them stood a wooden deck. Stammon locked the gate and bellowed. "Look who's back!" A flurry of footsteps and voices erupted, and two dozen faces watched them from the wooden balcony above. Stammon laughed. "It's the little trouble twins!" Alex cringed at the nickname. "You think I forgot the time when you shut one of Arthur's cattle in my house? I was picking the dung of the carpet for weeks!" 

Yoldru let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Oh, yeah… that."

"Never mind. We just needed to see some familiar faces really boost morale." Stammon said.

Alexander wanted to ask the old man about what happened to old Sue's, what had happened to his village, but couldn't bring himself to ask a question that would almost immediately wipe the smile from the careworn man's face. "So, back from the war, eh? Tell us about it! Any heroic stories? Damsels in distress?"

Alex tried to think of something heroic to say, or even remember something heroic he did, but failed miserably. This was the stuff that Yoldru was good at, and Yoldru did not disappoint. Almost immediately, he began. "Well, where do I start? How about the war's over!"

The room went silent, then a loud cheer ran, shook the pillars and Alex's bones as men rushed downstairs. Stammon was standing so stiff and shocked that Alex thought he might have had a stroke. "What? That's… great!" He said it as though it was the greatest song he'd ever heard. The crowd, which was growing larger, delivered a barrage of questions. Who won? Who killed who? How was the fighting?

Yoldru struggled to answer the overwhelming questions, stammering and squirming away from the number of people surrounding him. "Hey, old man, can we… talk in private?" Alex asked Stammon. The old man obliged as he took Alex by his shoulders and left the room, while others held up Yoldru on their shoulders, cheering, "Glory to Miros!" and "Curse Oldilocks!"

Stammon sat Alexander down on a small bench, in a much smaller room than the previous one. An open window looked to the outside of the wall as mist warped and twisted in the background. "Tell me, boy. What happened?"

Alex didn't know where to start. "Well, here's how it is. The war went into a standstill four years ago. No one gained or lost anything. Eventually, so many soldiers were dying of disease and pests that the fighting almost completely stopped. Both sides couldn't advance or retreat, we were stuck in our positions." Alex placed one finger on the right side of a desk and his other finger on the left side. "This was us, Miros, in the west, and this was Tessania, in the east." He said, referring to his fingers. "All we tried to do was find a way out, but Tessania found new ways to kill. They threw stone from catapults into the camps, nighttime assaults, everything you can think of. Eventually, no one slept. I was sure that I would die. Tessania was winning, and we had to bury hundreds of bodies every day. But suddenly they worked out an agreement and stopped the war. Both sides abandoned all fronts. They sent us back. I don't know why… It's all just very strange."

Stammon sighed. "At least you're back in one piece. Many don't get that."

"I don't know, Stammon. It feels like a different life, living here in Gatria. Messing around, running, even laughing feels so out-of-place now. Guess it's just hard to laugh when you're surrounded by mud, filth and blood."

They sat in silence for sometime, then Stammon asked the one question Alex did not want to answer at all, but knew he had to. "So, did you do it? Did you kill anyone?"

A shiver went down Alexander's spine. He could feel his fingers go numb as he stammered out a weak "Yeah". He could feel the warm blood on his hands, dripping from his sword, as the body in front of him had crumpled forward. "I killed three."

Stammon stood up and put a hand on Alexander's shoulder. "Just don't let it get to you."

"Yeah… I won't"

The old man brushed through his sparse white hair. "At least you're back now, eh?"

Alex smiled, although it hurt on the inside. "About that… I'm not gonna stay here for long. Even Yoldru." Stammon's smile faded. "Why's that? You don't like it here? Do you have someone waiting somewhere else?" Alex stood up slowly and walked toward the lone window. He could still hear laughing and cheering from the other room. "Nothing like that…" He tried to explain. "You see, we tried, both me and Yolds. We asked the Drotari, the name for commander, if we could leave since the war was over."

Alexander closed his eyes, trying to keep himself together. "He told us that we couldn't leave, or else he would declare us traitors. They will hunt us down and kill us. The Drotari basically gave us a death threat." He shook his head and turned to Stammon, who was now pale. "Can't you complain to anyone?"

"It doesn't work like that. We report to him and only to him. As long as we're under him, we have to do whatever he says, whether we like it or not."

"Then how did you come back?"

"We're staying here for today. Resting for tonight. There's some inspection we have to do in the next town, Arolus. Routine checks."

Stammon simply pursed his lips. "And I thought we had it hard here." He stood up and opened the door. "Well, I shouldn't hold you back too long kid, just get a good look at your family eh? Looks like you will hardly be seeing them anymore."

Alex put his rucksack back on and stepped out of the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

The old man only nodded.

Alexander left the wall and walked toward the main square. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the cold breeze blew harsher, making Alex shiver. He looked around for familiar shops, signs or people, but could find none. Everything looked so different. The difference six years can make… he thought as he wandered about the village, almost lost. The shops had changed. Food replaced toys, medicines replaced sweets. "What the hell happened here?" he wondered, now completely lost in the foreign village he found himself in. Trying to find his way, Alexander searched for familiar landmarks, but he could find none. 

Just as he was getting ready to pray for some recognizable signs, a small voice grasped his attention. "Alex, is that you?" Alex turned around to see a tiny boy who he could only just remember. "Cuthbert?"

The boy's pale face lit up as he jumped across the street and back to Alex. "I knew you would come back! Just didn't know it would take this long. I have so many things to say now… can I say them one by one?" He fingered the buttons on his shirt, waiting for Alex to say something.

"Sure bud."

Cuthbert couldn't stop chattering and giggling as he spoke, stopping only when he choked on his own spit or to catch his breath. Alexander tried to follow what he was saying, but got lost in the sheer amount of words being thrown at him so viciously. Cuthbert must have noticed the blank look on Alex's face, because he frowned, then paused. "Was that too fast for you? My mother says that I ought to talk slowly. Should I talk slower or just repeat everything I said?"

"Er… just keep talking and walk me to my house, will you?" Alexander felt embarrassed at not remembering where his own house was, but if Cuthbert noticed, he was too busy launching into monologue after monologue as he walked. They crossed two streets, then took a left. Immediately Cuthbert took a right while going on about the dangers of bush vipers. "They just lunge out of the bush right at your neck! You need fast reflexes to dodge them. Luckily, just last week, one shot right at me and I caught it by its neck!"

They passed through a narrow street made narrower by push-carts, and Alex suddenly found himself in the main square. Alexander took his time to look around, but Cuthbert didn't give him any. He swiftly dashed across the open space straight to the edge of a street and turned around expectantly. Determined to catch up to the little chatterbox, Alex sped up, but then halted when he saw a massive building where the town hall used to be. "Hey, Cuth, what's that?"

Cuthbert looked mildly annoyed that Alexander had interrupted his monologue on crushed bloomberry juice. Nevertheless, always willing to fill open ears, Cuthbert began. "That's the temple. I don't know why it's here. No one goes there anyway. Not me nor mum or dad. Some weird people just came in one day and decided it looked better here than the town hall. So they blasted the town hall, and built it here. So that's that."

Alex stared closely through the open doors of the temple. He could vaguely make out a statue's silhouette. "Alex, don't waste time looking at stupid buildings! We have so much to do! First, we need to finish that treehouse we were building all that time ago, remember?"

A strong sense of guilt filled Alexander as he listened to Cuthbert talk about long-term plans for playing and building. That seemed to be a lifetime ago. He could faintly remember how the four of them, Alex, Yoldru, Naomi and Janus, did nothing but cause trouble all day. A few years later, young Cuthbert joined them, though they mainly kept him for entertainment rather than companionship. Then Yoldru and Naomi declared their love for each other spectacularly, kissing right in the main square, leaving Alexander and Janus feeling awkward and self conscious for the rest of the day.

Then it happened. War. Recruitments started. Alex and Yoldru immediately applied, Janus was against it, calling them murderers for wanting to join. Naomi remained supportive of Yoldru. She didn't try to make him stay, but made him promise he would come back. It had been six years. So much had changed. Alex couldn't even remember where his house was. All he could recount was the Drotari's face, threatening to kill both him and Yoldru if they left the army. In hindsight, maybe Janus was right. 

"Where's Janus, Cuthbert?"

The boy scrunched his face again at being interrupted, but did not complain. "He left, like a year ago. Told us that he had found something better to do. Haven't heard from him yet."

Maybe he's just gone out for work. He'll come back. He has to. Janus wasn't the rash type. He was always level minded. The brains of the group. Alex tried to remember his face but couldn't. Some friend he was.

"Well, there's your house. I'll be at the square for the rest of the day. Where's Yoldru, by the way? We'll build that squirrel trap I just told you about. You know, the one with the-"

"Alright, Cuth. I'll be there in a few hours. Yoldru will probably be at his house or at Naomi's. See you." 

Cuthbert immediately darted across the street and disappeared into an alleyway. After he crossed the front yard, Alex stared at the front door of his house. It was just as he remembered. Dark wood, unpolished, adorned with a heavy brass knocker. The walls were the same reddish grey of bricks, through which he could hear voices from the inside. Home sweet home. Alex thought as he hit the knocker into the door. Three sharp knocks quietened the home and quick footsteps reached the door. A small woman opened the door. She was also just as Alex remembered. Thin and warm, her face slightly more creased and her hair now streaked intermittently with grey. The woman stared for just a second before she let out a loud cry and hugged Alex, making him stumble behind just a little. "Hey, mom. Long time."

In an hour, he'd calmed his mother down enough to have a rudimentary conversation, which she could barely hold for five minutes, before she retired to the kitchen in the pretence of making him a meal.

Alexander sat at the table, drumming slowly with his fingers. He took in the rest of the house. The inside was just warm enough, with lanterns at the corners and centre of each room for light. The wood had been newly replaced, and a familiar woody smell filled the house. Alex stood up to go help his mother, and at that moment, the main door flew open and his father entered the house. The noisy footsteps and clanging of metal abruptly stopped as the man noticed a visitor at his dining table. Alex met his father's bewildered look with a smile. From what he could see, his father hadn't changed apart from his greying and balding head. The man pulled Alex into a much milder hug than his mother had, and Alex was grateful for the short duration of the hug. "You're in one piece?"

"Yeah, all of me is here," was the reply.

"Heard that the war was over just today. I was hoping to see you soon."

"Me too." Alexander said. "Kind of forgot how it used to be. Yoldru's still got it though. Hasn't changed a bit."

"Yoldru's back as well? I'd better pay the Orions a visit later today. Haven't gone over for a long time either."

"I met Cuth. He wants us to build a treehouse. Still can't stop talking." 

His father chuckled, making way as his mother lowered a still steaming pot onto the table. "That boy. Your father likes him very much. I try to keep him company sometimes. He misses you a lot, Alex." She said, her voice still quivering from all the crying, "I have so many things to tell you, but maybe not today. I was thinking maybe tomorrow-" Alex saw the joy on his mother's face. He looked at her red and teary eyes, knowing that he would have to cut down her hopes.

Alex sighed. "About that…" He knew it would come to this. "I can't stay for long." He saw his father's smile disappear and his mother's already red eyes threatening to let loose tears. "But… but the war's over… right?"

"Doesn't mean I left the army, ma."

"Why? Did you like it… more than… more than home?" Her eyes were already swimming.

"No… of course I like this more. It's just that I can't leave." He told them about the ordeal with the Drotari, frequently interrupted by his mother's loud wails. "Oh, my poor boy! Why did you ever have to enlist for that dreaded person?"

His father, however, stayed quiet. In his old eyes, Alex could see sadness and grief, but the man stayed levelled. "So, is there no way you can leave?" 

Alex shook his head. "Not that I know of. It's not just me. Yoldru as well." 

This seemed to aggravate his mother even more, as she left the room and stormed into the kitchen. Alexander watched her leave, then turned to his father. "I have to go to Arolus tomorrow morning. I'll be back in a couple of days. Then I might stay for a day or two."

His father nodded weakly. Alexander, however, had one last question to ask his father. The one question that had been bugging him since his return. "Dad, what happened here? It's so different. I couldn't recognise anything."

The already gloomy atmosphere suddenly grew darker, and Alex understood that he was opening an old wound. His father spoke in a cautious undertone, obviously not wanting his mother to overhear. "About a year after you left, most of the traders from bigger towns stopped coming in. You see, eastern villages like ours were at great risk of being swallowed by the war. The merchants were afraid of that. As you know, everyone sells their goods to them to earn a decent living. Immediately, people couldn't afford anything. Only farming villages like ours could sustain itself. A lot of people died starving.

"Then the raiders came. They destroyed towns and plundered through resources. We only just got the news as we ourselves became victims of a raid. They came in hordes, stomping and destroying harvest ready crops. They set houses on fire-"

"Like old Sue's"

Alexander's father nodded. "Like old Sue's. It's sad that she had to lose her house. Sue lost her mind after that. Couldn't cope with decades of her memories being wiped so abruptly. Arthur takes care of her now."

"The cowherd?" Alex asked.

"Well, he was a cowherd, just not anymore. He lost his herd in the second raid. He helps me on the farm now. We've just finished a batch of potatoes…"

"So that's why you built the wall?" He asked, and his father nodded in response. "But what about the inside? What happened here?"

"Well, obviously, the sweets and toys went first. No one could afford them anymore. Then some so-called priests came, saying it was by royal decree that all town halls be rebuilt as a temple. They said their god Halose would protect us.

"You have to know, people were scared. They took every chance to be safe, they accepted what little money the priests gave and let the temple be constructed. It took a year, but after the temple was built, the raids stopped, merchants began coming back, and everything seemed to return to normal."

"Seemed to?" 

"I don't know… even though there were no raids or attacks after that, it just didn't feel the same. Maybe it was the wall, or the Cold."

"The Cold?"

"Ah… the Cold. I forgot to tell you. It started a year back. Lookouts spotted a weird-looking bunch wandering outside the wall. Eventually, they got them to leave, but not before they performed some rituals. After that, every night here has been brutal. People freeze to death. Here, in Gatria? No one has seen anything like it! We haven't even seen snow before! First to go was Arias Bahok. We found him dead on the street, completely blue and stiff as a rock. Then came Sarah Dury, we found her by the temple, frozen solid. Then Jack Heran, by the forest."

"Jack Heran… Janus's father?" Alex asked, astonished. His father just sighed. "We didn't find him in one place either. Torn to bits. Those two-headed dogs must've gotten to him."

Alex remembered the last time he'd seen one of those. Built like a hyena, but with two heads full of jagged inch-long teeth, saliva mixed with blood dripping off its faces. In their eyes, he could see nothing but murder. "That's a hard way to go." Alex took a bite off his food, then continued. "In the war, we'd mostly find bits and pieces of the dead. Tessanian weapons are just…" His voice trailed off with his mind. Another bite of food brought him back. "You have to see the howler arrows. Metal rod five feet long. Just goes right through you, and when it's gone, there'll be nothing left of you. Blown to bits."

 They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Alex couldn't help scrape his empty bowl, while thinking about his next move.