Chapter 21: Painting the Loss

Perspective: Steve


Fristad was dead. When Steve finished crying, he removed himself from Jennifer's shoulder and simply stood over the body. Astro was spreading a tarp over it, while Kay and Fire were discussing their next move. Jennifer stood somewhere behind him, granting him the space he needed.

The beige cloth crept up Fristad at a reasonable speed, but from Steve's perspective it was slow as a desert spreading across him. As the face finally disappeared, it finally hit Steve: his friend was gone.

At one point, Astro went to offer Steve a healing potion, but Kay stopped him. Something about showing off battle-scars.

"It helps the image. We're back from a battle, not a pageant."

Steve started yelling at him, but Jennifer calmed the situation. They compromised by letting Astro heal the wounds partway. They didn't hurt that much to begin with. Kay's obsession with how everything looked did. They had lost their friend and it was Kay's fault.

The world whizzed by. Destiny came up to him and offered some words he didn't really hear. He watched as Warnado huddled up, shaking from fear. Amanda's arm was around him. Others gathered weapons from the ground. Symbols of conquest. Steve's stomach turned and he felt the wound along the bottom as though it were ready to burst.

Eventually, Voidblade, the green-eyed enderman, appeared beside him. Time to return. Steve acquiesced.

They warped back to the base. The corridor leading up to the stage. They asked him and Jennifer to carry the stretcher with Fristad's body on it. Fire was at the fore, looking away. Tyron smiled back apologetically.

An order was given, and they moved forward in a column. Jennifer took Steve's hand, and he squeezed it. He had her at least.

What awaited on the other side was upsettingly grandiose. The stage looked out on the entire congregation. Steve spared a look up and saw the cliff where the other Steve, the Prophet's bodyguard, had approached him and Fristad the other day, setting in motion the chain of events that would lead to one of their deaths.

Sure enough, both Prophet and disciple were there, looking down on the scene. The Prophet himself, withered as ever, was hunched over, squinting down and steadying himself on a rock. The other Steve was impassive as his eyes passed over the stretcher. Steve couldn't stop himself from hating them both at that moment.

There was a large cube with a tarp over it - probably Silver's cage. It occurred to Steve that the mission had actually succeeded. Goodie.

A line of archers before the stage. A podium Lucy was arranging. Throngs of people murmuring, uncertain what was about to be said. Warnado and Amanda nowhere to be seen. Destiny holding a bag of weapons over her shoulder. Yet none of these details came together for Steve. He seemed to forget one the second he looked at another. He looked back at the ridge, saw the rock where Fristad and he had eaten that morning. It was like a magnet for his eyes.

"I introduce your commander, Fire," called Lucy.

Steve mustered his attention.

"Go on," he thought. "Make some meaning out of this. I dare you."

"Today I announce that our first operation was a success! We ambushed the Tower patrol, most of them were killed, the rest routed. More importantly, we captured one of their elite units! Silver of the Grey Ones!"

Fire gestured backwards and Tyron pulled the tarp from the cage. Steve felt a brief twang of satisfaction as he saw the enderman scratching at the luminous bars, feral and desperate. The crowd roared in approval.

"Interrogation will take place in due time. However, I regret to inform you that there is not only good news. One of us has fallen at the hands of Glibby the Ape, Fristad of Veridale is dead."

A silence fell.

"Fristad died protecting Warnado and Amanda, a proper burial will take place later today. He shall not be forgotten."

With that, Fire left. He just walked back to the line, and up walked Kay. Steve braced himself, gritted his teeth.

"Thank you, Commander, for your words. Fristad of Veridale was a good man. He shall be sorely missed. He died doing what was right, and we are all indebted to him. He is the first martyr of this war. Let us not let his death go unanswered."

He paused and there was a rumbling of assent.

"We are indeed at war with the Entity and his Tower. And your Commander undersells how strong a footing we have started on. We went in, a mere handful of us, against a force that outnumbered us five or six to one, and we were victorious. Some of you may wonder why we took this risk. It is not because we doubted your abilities, but because we value your lives above ours. Look upon our wounds," he gestured around, pulled up his sleep to reveal half-healed gashes. "All these wounds and just one death. A sad death, but a worthy death."

He gestured to Destiny to come forward with the weapons sack. She spilled it out across the stage. They clattered in a pile.

"A worthy death," Steve thought. "Bullshit!"

"Each of these was taken from a soldier of the Tower. Each an implement of our oppressors. Now we will use them as implements of liberation!"

The last weapons fell from the sack - the shattered gauntlets. Kay lifted them.

"These were once the weapons of the Ape. The fists of the Tower. They shall bring us down no more! Fire, our great Commander, shattered these himself in single combat. Even when the Ape had struck him, crippled organs, broken limbs, your Commander fought on and forced the Ape to retreat! And his bodyguards, his Grey Ones, are now scattered. Once they were three in number, now he has but one. I have heard your stories, and I know how the Ape and his beasts have tormented you. Soon, they shall do so no more! Soon none of the Entity's thugs shall torment you! Soon you shall be free, and safe and home!"

He raised his hands and the crowd cheered.

"What thinks the Prophet?" he roared up to the ridge.

There was a hush. For a time, the old man was silent. The other Steve nudged him, at which point he hoisted himself and staggered toward the edge. He raised his hands in balled fists.

"A tower falling! The fire rises!" he screamed with jubilation.

The crowd was euphoric.

"You heard him," called Kay with a smirk. "Your Commander, your Fire, rises. Spread the word! Far and wide! This army needs warriors, and warriors are you all!"

Steve saw various people running off to fulfil this duty. Ender-people teleporting. Chants began: "The Fire rises!" Cheers were widespread. Dancing started. Music, even. Dissonant to what happened not very long before.

Steve looked down at the corpse of Fristad, with its neck like a mangled plant stem. He wondered how many others would go the same way before the end.