Chapter 4:
The day that I received news was much like any day in this uneventful township. I abhorred this rotten silence – this "civilian atmosphere", as I had called it in my teeming youth. While the whole of the Lylat system was torn apart by the raging war against Andross, there I was, sitting idly in Crimson Falls and carrying on my military training. There was Laura to keep me there, of course, but little could contain my impatience for inactivity. Perhaps Laura could have come with me and fight for the Cornerian Federation - for our proud planet, our proud culture and all that it stood for.
If only she came with me…
I had already transferred to the infantry division of the Academy by then, and Laura continued her training with aviation. A harmless breach in our paths soon widened into a gaping rift.
That day, before the heat could dispel the wispy morning fog, the doorbell rang at my modest house. I jolted awake, finding myself in my bed and Laura pressed closely against me. A lazy glow filtered through the curtains and illuminated the room, and under the soft lights, I could see the content curve of a smile imprinted upon Laura's face. Such a tantalizing sight it was to behold – a face harmlessly childlike in manner, yet mature in a sense. What we were doing the night before remained to be answered.
The doorbell rang once more; this time, more impatiently. I reluctantly tore my gaze away from her and threw on the shirt and jeans strewn carelessly across the floor. Trudging to receive the unexpected guest, I juggled around with the possible implications of such an early visit. Who could it be? I tugged the door open drowsily, rubbing my eyes awake and stifling a yawn.
"Private Branwell here?" the visitor inquired formally.
I swept an appraising gaze across his portly stature. A short, middle-aged feline he was, dressed in full Cornerian Army uniform.
"Yes?" I replied.
"A urgent letter awaits your response, sir – from the government, I believe."
He reached out the beige envelope, and after staring at it with a quizzical look, I snatched it from his possession.
"Thanks," I uttered, turning around and shutting the door behind me.
By that time, Laura was awake, and she managed to pull a loosely fitting dress over herself. She gathered up to me and took an equal interest in the letter. The bold black of the Cornerian Insignia was imprinted squarely upon the envelope.
"Morning, Summers. What's this?" she asked, brushing her long, cascading hair away from her eyes. I shrugged.
At length, I tore the envelope open messily, and there, a neat, white letter lay in my hands.
"Salutations,
As you may have been informed, the Cornerian Federation is combating Andross' forces across the Lylat System on multiple frontiers. The prospects look grim for our planet. Imperial forces have penetrated our lines of defense, focusing the assault on Fortuna and swiftly advancing towards Cornerian. I am afraid that you are ill prepared for this position, but alas - desperate times call for desperate measures. With the recommendation of the local academy personnel and taking your father's monumental feats into consideration, we have decided to draft you into the war as a colonel. You are to come to Corneria City, where a briefing will be held on June 6th at the Cornerian Academy. We apologize for the short notice, but nevertheless, I expect to see you there.
1
2 General Ulysses Pepper of Corneria"
A glint of excitement sparked within me as I read over the general's words. A rise of status from a private-in-training to a colonel was a gargantuan leap; yet, I doubted my own experiences. There was a hint of grave tension between the lines.
"A colonel?" I gasped in amazement, shaking my head. "I finally get to test my abilities and fight for the Federation! Laura, this is great news!"
She looked back at me with restraint apprehension and grief, mouth slightly agape as if unable to verbalize a painful thought. Her lips trembled, and her eyes shimmered. My grin slowly died down into a morose frown at her reaction.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Are you leaving, then?"
"Why – of course! What do you think? That's what I've been training for all these years. I'll prove to them that I surpass my father, and everyone else!"
An eerier silence drew on. She walked up to me and softly fell into my arms, eyes beaming sadly and pleadingly. I stared down at her in dogged amazement.
"Don't go, Summers. Why do you have to prove anything to anyone? They don't matter to us," she whispered softly into my ears.
"But I have to, Laura, and I want to. I can't escape the draft, after all."
"Stay with me, Summers, just this time. Please…"
"But…"
She said no more, but only stared down at the floor silently, all her emotions withdrawn icily into her introverted self. Allowing her soft bangs to drape over her face, she climbed upstairs, shrinking into an aura of unapproachable solitude; and I let her be, for it was impossible to make her understand. What was fame and glory to a female, anyway?
I packed up the simple articles by myself, my excitement considerably mired by her reaction. I was to depart for Corneria City by the afternoon, and little could get in the way. Yet, something inside boggled me – some inexplicable presentiment…
I shook off the notion and thought of it no more. It was my duty to fight, and I couldn't allow petty premonitions to get in the way.
---------------------------------------------------
The day rolled by swiftly – it's funny how immediate preoccupations can sweep aside all long-term considerations. The snow began to fall outside, and the world seemed to be glazed over with a frosted coat of pure white. Adorned in a clean khaki uniform and with a heavy baggage hauled over one shoulder, I set out of the door with Laura walking wordlessly beside me. The same dull expression overcast her usually bright features.
With a first step out onto the snow-covered ground, my foot sunk deeply into the ice with a crunch. I breathed the air; dry and frigid, yet crisp and clear. Autumn has long since parted, and all was left of the passionate colors of fall were rows of gaunt, lifeless trees lining the barren streets. A decidedly bleak scene it made, but the sun blazed in the distant, reaching forth its warm tendrils from the few rifts in the oyster clouds. A bittersweet orange tinge glided freely across the canvass of bluish-white, and the winter sunlight melded with the dark to form a faintly violet glow – like an eternal passion frozen over by temporary cold.
I laid a reassuring arm over her seemingly frail shoulders; a chord of longing regret suddenly struck within my soul. We were close to each other, yet… so seemingly distant. In silence, we drew across the landscape, two sharp sets of footprints left in the snow to be worn away by the unforgiving winds. Soft flakes of snow began to accumulate on our backs and shoulders. Our warm, damp breaths condensed into puffs of fog in the biting, chilly air.
And soon we arrived at the antiquated train station, where the callous din of traffic commotion rang on in cacophony. We sat and waited, still wordless. Why was I leaving anyway? Why did I have to go? Her words began to soak into me.
"For fame, Summers!" my mind screamed back at me, "And for recognition!"
But life was perfect then – and even more so in hindsight. It's all the fallacy of the heart, to long for what society called success and achievement; to climb the ladder of aggrandizement; to crave something outside of one's possession. The grass is greener on the other side; a road with no return.
The choice was in my very own hands – yet, I chose to deny my own interests and follow what my lonely upbringing told me to do. I thought war was a short business, but it wore on beyond my expectation.
With a shrill cry of the engine, the train rolled by, windows melding into a golden stream against the darkening night. How unrelenting time urged us to make haste decisions. I rose with my bag of belongings clasped in my hand, and Laura followed.
"Inter-Cornerian Express, train number 155 bound for Corneria City. All passengers board," a robotic, monotonous voice rang across the station.
We stood next to the train. The doors hissed agape, beckoning me to enter and follow its guidance into the smoldering bowels of war. My heart pounded. My head felt faint, and the surrounding noises began to dim as a shell of isolation seemed to close in around us – just us two, Laura and I.
"So, you're still going?" Laura asked, her sweet voice wavering.
"Yes," I sighed. My voice began to thicken in my throat.
She looked down, tears beginning to well in her eyes, and her calm composure began to crack and melt away. She leaned against me, her arms braced around my neck and her muzzle pressing against my chest. I too, entangled my arms around her shivering form, emotions suddenly surging upon me. Why? Why was I not content with staying with her in the peaceful town?
"Come back, Summers. Promise to come back quickly, please…"
"I will – I'll do anything to see you again. I promise," I replied soothingly, stroking her hair.
"All passengers board," the transmitter urged once more.
Involuntarily, I raised my hands to her face, lifting her gaze to meet mine, and with flowing sorrow and affection, I leaned forward in a passionate kiss. It felt so… natural.
"I'll always love you, Laura." I whispered forlornly as I looked into her deep, crimson eyes once again. I disengaged myself from the embrace with infinite reluctance, but she gathered no response, the tears choking her words.
I held to her as I slowly slipped away, my fingers tracing her lean form from her shoulders to her hands, and as our grasps finally parted, I felt as if a part of me was left behind with her. For a moment, we stood, watching each other – I, in the carriage of the train, and her, on the cold platform of the station. The automated door slid shut mercilessly, but our eyes never left each other. The engine cried once more, and the wheels began to shriek sharply beneath. A barrier of distance now separated us and rolled across the clear winter's night, slowly and painfully…
The day that I received news was much like any day in this uneventful township. I abhorred this rotten silence – this "civilian atmosphere", as I had called it in my teeming youth. While the whole of the Lylat system was torn apart by the raging war against Andross, there I was, sitting idly in Crimson Falls and carrying on my military training. There was Laura to keep me there, of course, but little could contain my impatience for inactivity. Perhaps Laura could have come with me and fight for the Cornerian Federation - for our proud planet, our proud culture and all that it stood for.
If only she came with me…
I had already transferred to the infantry division of the Academy by then, and Laura continued her training with aviation. A harmless breach in our paths soon widened into a gaping rift.
That day, before the heat could dispel the wispy morning fog, the doorbell rang at my modest house. I jolted awake, finding myself in my bed and Laura pressed closely against me. A lazy glow filtered through the curtains and illuminated the room, and under the soft lights, I could see the content curve of a smile imprinted upon Laura's face. Such a tantalizing sight it was to behold – a face harmlessly childlike in manner, yet mature in a sense. What we were doing the night before remained to be answered.
The doorbell rang once more; this time, more impatiently. I reluctantly tore my gaze away from her and threw on the shirt and jeans strewn carelessly across the floor. Trudging to receive the unexpected guest, I juggled around with the possible implications of such an early visit. Who could it be? I tugged the door open drowsily, rubbing my eyes awake and stifling a yawn.
"Private Branwell here?" the visitor inquired formally.
I swept an appraising gaze across his portly stature. A short, middle-aged feline he was, dressed in full Cornerian Army uniform.
"Yes?" I replied.
"A urgent letter awaits your response, sir – from the government, I believe."
He reached out the beige envelope, and after staring at it with a quizzical look, I snatched it from his possession.
"Thanks," I uttered, turning around and shutting the door behind me.
By that time, Laura was awake, and she managed to pull a loosely fitting dress over herself. She gathered up to me and took an equal interest in the letter. The bold black of the Cornerian Insignia was imprinted squarely upon the envelope.
"Morning, Summers. What's this?" she asked, brushing her long, cascading hair away from her eyes. I shrugged.
At length, I tore the envelope open messily, and there, a neat, white letter lay in my hands.
"Salutations,
As you may have been informed, the Cornerian Federation is combating Andross' forces across the Lylat System on multiple frontiers. The prospects look grim for our planet. Imperial forces have penetrated our lines of defense, focusing the assault on Fortuna and swiftly advancing towards Cornerian. I am afraid that you are ill prepared for this position, but alas - desperate times call for desperate measures. With the recommendation of the local academy personnel and taking your father's monumental feats into consideration, we have decided to draft you into the war as a colonel. You are to come to Corneria City, where a briefing will be held on June 6th at the Cornerian Academy. We apologize for the short notice, but nevertheless, I expect to see you there.
1
2 General Ulysses Pepper of Corneria"
A glint of excitement sparked within me as I read over the general's words. A rise of status from a private-in-training to a colonel was a gargantuan leap; yet, I doubted my own experiences. There was a hint of grave tension between the lines.
"A colonel?" I gasped in amazement, shaking my head. "I finally get to test my abilities and fight for the Federation! Laura, this is great news!"
She looked back at me with restraint apprehension and grief, mouth slightly agape as if unable to verbalize a painful thought. Her lips trembled, and her eyes shimmered. My grin slowly died down into a morose frown at her reaction.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Are you leaving, then?"
"Why – of course! What do you think? That's what I've been training for all these years. I'll prove to them that I surpass my father, and everyone else!"
An eerier silence drew on. She walked up to me and softly fell into my arms, eyes beaming sadly and pleadingly. I stared down at her in dogged amazement.
"Don't go, Summers. Why do you have to prove anything to anyone? They don't matter to us," she whispered softly into my ears.
"But I have to, Laura, and I want to. I can't escape the draft, after all."
"Stay with me, Summers, just this time. Please…"
"But…"
She said no more, but only stared down at the floor silently, all her emotions withdrawn icily into her introverted self. Allowing her soft bangs to drape over her face, she climbed upstairs, shrinking into an aura of unapproachable solitude; and I let her be, for it was impossible to make her understand. What was fame and glory to a female, anyway?
I packed up the simple articles by myself, my excitement considerably mired by her reaction. I was to depart for Corneria City by the afternoon, and little could get in the way. Yet, something inside boggled me – some inexplicable presentiment…
I shook off the notion and thought of it no more. It was my duty to fight, and I couldn't allow petty premonitions to get in the way.
---------------------------------------------------
The day rolled by swiftly – it's funny how immediate preoccupations can sweep aside all long-term considerations. The snow began to fall outside, and the world seemed to be glazed over with a frosted coat of pure white. Adorned in a clean khaki uniform and with a heavy baggage hauled over one shoulder, I set out of the door with Laura walking wordlessly beside me. The same dull expression overcast her usually bright features.
With a first step out onto the snow-covered ground, my foot sunk deeply into the ice with a crunch. I breathed the air; dry and frigid, yet crisp and clear. Autumn has long since parted, and all was left of the passionate colors of fall were rows of gaunt, lifeless trees lining the barren streets. A decidedly bleak scene it made, but the sun blazed in the distant, reaching forth its warm tendrils from the few rifts in the oyster clouds. A bittersweet orange tinge glided freely across the canvass of bluish-white, and the winter sunlight melded with the dark to form a faintly violet glow – like an eternal passion frozen over by temporary cold.
I laid a reassuring arm over her seemingly frail shoulders; a chord of longing regret suddenly struck within my soul. We were close to each other, yet… so seemingly distant. In silence, we drew across the landscape, two sharp sets of footprints left in the snow to be worn away by the unforgiving winds. Soft flakes of snow began to accumulate on our backs and shoulders. Our warm, damp breaths condensed into puffs of fog in the biting, chilly air.
And soon we arrived at the antiquated train station, where the callous din of traffic commotion rang on in cacophony. We sat and waited, still wordless. Why was I leaving anyway? Why did I have to go? Her words began to soak into me.
"For fame, Summers!" my mind screamed back at me, "And for recognition!"
But life was perfect then – and even more so in hindsight. It's all the fallacy of the heart, to long for what society called success and achievement; to climb the ladder of aggrandizement; to crave something outside of one's possession. The grass is greener on the other side; a road with no return.
The choice was in my very own hands – yet, I chose to deny my own interests and follow what my lonely upbringing told me to do. I thought war was a short business, but it wore on beyond my expectation.
With a shrill cry of the engine, the train rolled by, windows melding into a golden stream against the darkening night. How unrelenting time urged us to make haste decisions. I rose with my bag of belongings clasped in my hand, and Laura followed.
"Inter-Cornerian Express, train number 155 bound for Corneria City. All passengers board," a robotic, monotonous voice rang across the station.
We stood next to the train. The doors hissed agape, beckoning me to enter and follow its guidance into the smoldering bowels of war. My heart pounded. My head felt faint, and the surrounding noises began to dim as a shell of isolation seemed to close in around us – just us two, Laura and I.
"So, you're still going?" Laura asked, her sweet voice wavering.
"Yes," I sighed. My voice began to thicken in my throat.
She looked down, tears beginning to well in her eyes, and her calm composure began to crack and melt away. She leaned against me, her arms braced around my neck and her muzzle pressing against my chest. I too, entangled my arms around her shivering form, emotions suddenly surging upon me. Why? Why was I not content with staying with her in the peaceful town?
"Come back, Summers. Promise to come back quickly, please…"
"I will – I'll do anything to see you again. I promise," I replied soothingly, stroking her hair.
"All passengers board," the transmitter urged once more.
Involuntarily, I raised my hands to her face, lifting her gaze to meet mine, and with flowing sorrow and affection, I leaned forward in a passionate kiss. It felt so… natural.
"I'll always love you, Laura." I whispered forlornly as I looked into her deep, crimson eyes once again. I disengaged myself from the embrace with infinite reluctance, but she gathered no response, the tears choking her words.
I held to her as I slowly slipped away, my fingers tracing her lean form from her shoulders to her hands, and as our grasps finally parted, I felt as if a part of me was left behind with her. For a moment, we stood, watching each other – I, in the carriage of the train, and her, on the cold platform of the station. The automated door slid shut mercilessly, but our eyes never left each other. The engine cried once more, and the wheels began to shriek sharply beneath. A barrier of distance now separated us and rolled across the clear winter's night, slowly and painfully…