THE ART OF WAR

by MECHARAVEN

A grounder who wants peace is the last thing the Ark inhabitants expected. From what they've seen, it was completely against the grounders' basic nature. So when Atla turns up a day after they receive the ultimatum from the Commander claiming that the both of them have the same goals, they naturally are very suspicious. Especially since she seems to be harbouring secrets.

THE HAPHAZARD SCRATCHING OF A QUILL ON PAPER filled the air surrounding Atla as she sketched frantically, her mind whirring with novel ideas. An amalgam of used parchment and crimson ink stains laid scattered chaotically around her, creating a stark contrast with the otherwise pristine room.

Diagrams, plans and simulations furbished the creased and yellowing writing material, all of them centring around one subject: the ongoing war against Azgeda. It was all that occupied Atla's time for a year now. War had robbed her of her childhood very early on when it brutally massacred her mother alongside an entire division of warriors. Then again, a childhood was a luxury not many had the chance to experience in the new world.

The young girl absentmindedly tugged at her ebony locks as she consumed the information on the pages in front of her. She was always an exceptionally clever child, constantly exploring and constantly learning about the world around her. This attribute remained a part of Atla even after the war had begun, although it manifested in a different way.

War tactics.

The fact that it was a self taught skill changed nothing as even at the age of eleven Atla was considered the most able tactician in the Broadleaf clan. There wasn't a single moment when she wasn't plotting something in that bright brain of hers. This particular aptitude turned out to be extremely useful as her father, Thune, was the chief of the same clan.

A sharp hiss and the crumpling of paper was heard as a drop of vermilion tainted pale skin. Atla clutched the piece of paper that cut her index finger tightly as she sucked on the small injury. She stayed like that for a moment until her eyes fell to the old piece of parchment she was holding.

Confusion marred Atla's features as she observed the unfamiliar sketches, her eyes flitting back and forth in a leisurely manner. This, however, quickly morphed into horror as an unsolicited understanding dawned upon her.

Who would have thought that one diagram was enough to tear someone's world apart; to completely destroy their core beliefs. For the parchment Atla was in possession of contained no ordinary secret. It revealed a war strategy that was much better off left hidden.

It revealed a war strategy that included sacrifice.

It was the war strategy that killed Atla's mother.