Year 845
Petra Raj had been sleeping when the sky fell. She and her unit had been awake for two days straight without rest, escorting a visiting lord from the outermost reaches of Wall Maria to the palace in the Interior. Most of her squad had slept, at some point—she'd been the only one who didn't sleep the entire time. She didn't sleep well while on the road—it sounded like an excuse when she said it, but for the most part, it was the truth. "I'll stand guard. You can rest." They'd been stopped at the gates of Wall Sina and told to go and get some rest. Although she'd wanted to see her job through to the end, Davin Roth, a friend of hers since childhood, had persuaded her to go back to her quarters and unwind. "Please, Petra. He's safer with these men than with you, when you're half-dead on your feet. Let them take this over for you, I'll take you back to the headquarters, you'll get some rest…"
It was her duty as Military Police to ensure safety and tranquility within the walls; she'd said her oaths when she was sworn in, and repeated them to herself every day since. Although it wasn't required, she chose to reaffirm her vows every day—to clarify her sense of direction, to reassure herself that she'd made the right choice, to remember what she stood for, who she was. "I am Petra Raj," she murmured to herself as Davin walked her through the broad archway that was the door to the Military Police headquarters. "I am the firstborn daughter of Edward and Malia Raj, the first grandchild of Terince Raj, former Captain of the Military Police…my family has served the crown for six generations, and I continue the legacy…of the Raj family…"
Davin glanced at her curiously. "What's that, Petra?"
"Nothing, nothing." She waved dismissively. "I'm hungry. Is there any food?"
"There should be, if we check the kitchens." He glanced nervously at the clock. "I'm to ride out soon, collect treasury reports from the Garrison Regiment of the outer walls…should be back by tomorrow."
"I just came from the outer walls, it took us two days." Petra muttered as they turned into the narrow stairwell that led down to the kitchens in the basement.
"Well, you came with three wagons and a cranky lord in tow, taking only the best-paved roads I imagine…I'm riding out alone, unhindered. I should be at Wall Maria by nightfall." He shot Petra a crooked grin. "You did well with that one, I can't imagine the hardships you endured on this trip…"
"The roads were easy enough, actually, and I work well even when I'm—"
"Not the roads, silly—that Lord Barris. I could hear him airing his grievances loud as he could even as his wagon came through the gate. I can't imagine what your squad must have endured these past two days, just…" He mimed strangling himself.
Petra giggled. "Well, when I don't sleep, I dream while awake…I dreamed about pushing his luxurious wagon off of every cliff we passed, make no mistake. But I made it here in one piece, regardless."
They arrived in the kitchen laughing. Davin was able to coax two small shepherd's pies from of the chefs, and a bottle of wine from a timid errand boy. He then settled himself in the stairwell with the food in hand, offering one of the pies to Petra as she settled herself next to him.
As they finished their food, Davin nudged Petra. "Hey, Petra. Do you remember, when we were kids? We'd pretend that loose sticks we found on the riverbanks were swords, and slay Titans with our folded-steel blades…"
"I'm pretty sure those were tree stumps and firewood piles…oh, and your father chased us away from his chickens more than once…"
Davin laughed. "He chased you away from them…me, he said if I could catch it, kill it, pluck it, and cook it myself, I was welcome to keep chasing, otherwise he'd have me for dinner in its place…"
"That's right. And your grandpa always told us those stories he'd read when he was a kid…"
"The stories?"
"Yeah, don't you remember?" Petra lowered her voice. "About the giant lakes of salt and water, the mountains that would ooze fire, the fields of white sand and trees with leaves like fans…the world outside of these walls."
"Oh right!" Davin laughed. "You know, Petra, I'd almost forgotten those stories. Do you think half of them were true?"
"I wouldn't think so." Petra shook her head, brushing a stray lock of strawberry hair behind her ear. "But we always said we'd go out there and see for ourselves, someday."
Davin sat back, gnawing meditatively on a piece of crust. "Yeah, we did…what happened to that, anyway?"
Petra shrugged, leaning back against the wall. "I don't know. Adulthood? Duty? Tradition? Obligation?" The stairway was warm, very warm. The air was like a thick, soft blanket settling over her. "Do you ever think about it anymore? Or had you really forgotten?"
Davin might have answered, but Petra didn't hear it—and she was too tired to ask again, too weak with exhaustion to protest as he picked her up in his arms and carried her back to her barrack. I'll see him tomorrow, she reminded herself as she slipped into the soft darkness. If it really matters, I can ask him again then. She had fallen asleep before he'd even left the room.
In her dreams, the walls were mountains, and they were raining fire on the city. Her skin was burning. She ran for the river to try to douse the fires, but her legs became encrusted with salt crystals, at first just a tinge of it, but within moments, a binding cast—she couldn't move her legs, she couldn't run, and she was still on fire. Two chickens pecked at her face. She clawed at them, but each chunk of flesh she ripped off with bare, desperate hands grew back immediately. And by the gates, Davin sat on the back of a skeletal horse, both wrapped in cloaks of flame. His skin, his flesh, melted off of his bones like candlewax—but his voice was loud and clear: "Petra…what are you waiting for? The sky is falling, can't you see it?"
Two birds circled overhead—one, a raven, black wings and a cruel, curved beak; the other, a dove, snowy-white in color, swirling high above the chaos. And then they, too, were caught by the cruel tendrils of flame, and fell to the ground, one indistinguishable from the other, burning away.
There were other dreams—but that was the one that came back to her most clearly. She awoke a full 24 hours later to the news that Wall Maria had been breached, and all of the survivors had retreated to the safety of Wall Rose. There was no word of what had become of Davin Roth—but she knew, despite her compatriots' best efforts to comfort her and assure her of otherwise, that she would never see him again. The wall had fallen, and he'd been unable to stop it. He was not the type to flee, even if the battle was futile—he would have fought back, or died trying.
No matter what anyone told her, she knew what she had seen—he was gone. Petra…what are you waiting for? The sky is falling, can't you see it?
She could see it now. But it was too late to stop him from going, and too late to bring him back.
In the months that would come, she would try to get back to her old life, her old duties. She would try her hardest to remember who she was, what she had to do, what she was working for…but it had all evaporated, died with Davin.
The sky is falling, can't you see it?
There was no going back. It had already begun. She couldn't pretend it hadn't happened.
Petra…what are you waiting for?
She was, by then, wondering the same thing.
She wasn't sure if it was clarity or madness that propelled her as she approached the door to the office—but it no longer mattered by then. It had been seven months since Wall Maria had been abandoned—seven months since Davin had been killed. She had counted out the moments of every endless day since. She knew what she had to do, and she wasn't going to turn back.
She extended her hand and knocked on the door.
The Commander of the Military Police answered it moments later. His eyes were cold and unyielding as they fell upon her. "Raj." His voice was flat and monotonous. "What brings you here?"
"I have a request, Sir." Her voice was steady—it did not betray the sweating of her palms, the rapid beating of her heart. "I no longer wish to work for the Military Police. However…rather than take retirement…I'd like to be transferred to a different branch."
He raised an eyebrow at her in disdain. "A soldier who no longer cares about her duties is of no use here. Where would you rather be? See if they'd have any use for you…"
At the last moment, she began to tremble. "The Scouting Legion."