Author's note: Apologies for the delay. Unexpected problems and a pair of Uiversity finals forced my hand and I needed more time to finish this. Next one won't take as long, I promise. This chapter also turns our attention away from Elza the Prodigy and now focuses on the origins of another Valkyria... and what remains of her family.
Reviews of course are always welcome. They help me more than you realize.
-BlindFury the Ultimate
She sat with her back against the wall, anxious, yet ready. A current of air tickled her skin, then paused and reversed itself as pressure from the outside waxed and waned. The cycle repeated itself at inconsistent intervals, creating invisible eddies that brushed against her skin like fountains of roiling water. Her breathing was calm in comparison to the assortment of other sounds that propagated outside her holding cell. Chief among them was the slow yet steady rhythm of the jailer's obnoxious snoring and the steady 'doink… doink… doink…' of condensed droplets striking the floor just off to her left. Of the smells, none were new: blood from wounds that had yet to fully heal, sweat from the heat and other hazards found within the facility, and mold that festered in the corners of the cells. She was beginning to wonder if it was a bad thing that she was accustomed to it by now.
Outside her window, a column of soldiers marched down the road, each carrying their rifles off to the left side of their bodies. Every man was dressed in matching black, red and golden armour, their faces hidden behind the helmets they wore and their feet came down on the ground with a mechanical precision, not once missing a beat. It was an impressive display of force. A force that had watched over her and the other "subjects" ever since she was first brought here, too young to even remember how long ago that was.
For all the talk of how the children had been blessed to be chosen for this project would one day rise from the ashes as the saviours of the Empire, both the scientists and the soldiers that aided them seemed to go out of their way to inspire dissent and rebellion. Countless experiments, each more dangerous than the last, with harsh punishments and beatings dealt out for any infraction, no matter how slight. It was as if they only saw the number and letter that was all but branded to their skin, and this was all the justification they needed to do what they did. More than once a group of subjects had "washed out" of the program, and one of the scientist would come and explain how they were sent either back to their homes or other neighbouring facilities. While this would satisfy the youngest, some of which were only the age of three of four, the older subjects, ranging as far as seventeen, knew the real reason and began to wonder when it would be their turn to conveniently "wash out".
She watched the soldiers march in formation a little longer until she grew bored. Returning to her spot against the one clean wall, she continued to gaze ahead into nothingness. The cell wasn't that large, enough for only half a dozen steps in either direction, and was meant as a temporary measure until she would be relocated somewhere else within the facility again. But despite this imprisonment, she was happy. Today was her eighth birthday, and her big brother had promised to give her the best thing in the world for a girl in her current position: freedom. He had everything planned out, had spent months preparing for this very day and soon everything would be different. Once they were free, they would finally get the chance to live the normal life they deserved, and she would get to see her mother for the first time.
It had been so long ago that she had almost forgotten. Truthfully, she did not remember much about the day when they had both been taken from their home, only that the sun had begun to set in the distance and a pair of men in black-gold uniforms had helped her into the vehicle. The time after that was a blur in her memories until she had found herself in the back of an even larger cargo truck, huddled closely together among roughly a dozen other children. Most were girls, with only two or three other boys counted among them, their ages ranging from as young as she was to slightly older than her brother. None of them had dared to break the silence that hung over them with oppressive force, each looking around while wearing an expression of fear and confusion. It felt as if centuries had passed since then, though the reality was only four years.
It was almost time. She just had to be a good little girl and wait for him. Just a little bit longer…
She was diverted from her thoughts when the doors to the detention cells suddenly opened, a single shock trooper entering a moment later. A1 also saw that the jailer was awake now, and after a few seconds of conversation with the new trooper, started getting angry. "I said you can't go in there!" he argued, "Doctor Foster's orders were clear: no one is to see her!"
"Is that so?" cut in a smooth voice, "And will you be the one to stop me from performing my duty, Captain?"
There was a subdued "N-no... b-but if Doctor Forster-"
"There's been a change in plans," the soldier snapped. "A7 has escaped from his cell. The good doctor wants us to use her as bait in order to flush him out. Now unlock that door!" Upon hearing this, A1's heart leaped: she knew the second voice. A pity for the jailor, who apparently didn't.
After a pause, keys jangled outside A1's cell. The door opened-
"Hey, what are y-?" -
Her breath hitched as, with a massive 'thwack!' the jailor hit the ground, a victim of a rifle butt to the back of his skull. He moaned once, than was still. A single shock trooper entered the cell, slinging said rifle over his shoulder. He faced A1, eyes gazing down on her, and then chuckled lightly. "I'd ask if you're ready to go," he said, reaching for the clasp to his helmet, "but it looks like you've been waiting for long enough."
When the helmet, came off, revealing his face, A1 cried out in joy and, leaping forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged her older brother as tightly as she could. Her feet dangled several inches in the air. "Big brother!"
"Little sis," he replied jokingly, returning the hug. They held each other with an intimacy only a brother and sister could share. Their greatest comfort now was a simple one: they were no longer alone. To know that you were with one who cared for you, who understood every fibre of your being, and who would not abandon you even in the most desperate of circumstances, that was the most precious relationship a person could have. A7 and A1 - brother and sister - cherished this gift dearly.
After an immeasurable time, A7 grunted. "Uh, sis? Heh... ugh, you might want to loosen your arms a bit. It's getting a little hard to breathe."
"Sorry."
Setting her down, A7 looked around, searching for anything he might have missed. Satisfied they were alone, he reached for his comm. "I got my sister. Everything going alright on your end, Varro?"
"Waiting for you." came the reply, "Hurry: it won't be long until they find out she's missing."
"Got it." He switched off the comm. He motioned to A1. "Come on; let's get you out of here. Remember: just stay quiet and follow my lead. You can celebrate once we're out of here." He put the shock trooper helmet back on and they left the cell together, A7 acting as a guard, escorting the 'prisoner' towards the aft section of the facility. Waiting for them there was the transport they'd use to get out of the facility forever. Assuming everything went according to plan, they'd be free in an hour or two.
Embers of Life: Pain and Darkness
Pain. A constant burning that seeped through skin and into every muscle, draining what little energy she had as the bones creaked as if under constant strain. It blinded her, immobilized her, leaving her little more than a husk trapped in the unknown. She couldn't move, could hardly breathe. Her hearing was the only sense that seemed to function properly, and even that was hindered, as if she was floating deep under water.
Pain was her only companion in a seemingly infinite darkness where nothing else could hope to exist. Ever so slowly, though, patches of grey had started to appear in the distance. Visions of both the past and present appeared in the gray patches and were playing through her weary mind. Unknown, jumbled, clouded and confused. Incoherent thoughts, sounds that faded in and out. Very strong emotions coursed through her and seemed to change as sudden and as randomly as the visions.
"You're lucky you found her when you did. Any later and we would have been too late."
"So... she'll be okay?"
The voices emerged without warning, clear and sharp. Were they from her memories like the other visions and images dancing around her? If so, she could not remember exactly where and when. Or were they the present, the topic of their conversation being herself? Again she was unsure.
"Truly, lad, I do not know. She's suffered serious wounds, and the ragnite isn't doing anything to help repair the damage. That she still lives at all is a miracle in itself. What bothers me most is what other wounds she might carry."
"What do you mean... sir?"
"..."
"Lieutenant?"
Even as he spoke, something told her in the back of her mind that all three of them knew it was a lie. "... Just an old man's worry. Pay no attention to it, lad..."
The voices vanished almost as quickly as they had appeared, replaced by the same chaotic visions, sounds, and feelings as before. Fragments of each faded in and out of her limited consciousness before melting back into the dark swirling abyss that she seemed to be floating in. Everything in her mind was just a complete jumble, nothing made any sense. Every second she felt could be centuries passing by without her knowledge. What had happened to her to be left in such a weakened state?
Slowly, though, she again began to feel something pushing through all the chaos. The voices from before? Yes, that's what they were. But whose voices were they? She couldn't tell, but a nagging sense of familiarity clung to each voice, trying to help her remember.
"I don't like this. Perhaps it would've been better if we tried moving her."
"It is the Lieutenant's decision that we remain. We wait until the General recovers, then assess our options from there."
"Yes, but can we afford to wait that long? You saw the blast. There wasn't a single survivor for miles around! Even a Valkyria has limits to how much they can take. Her wounds haven't even started to heal, and we're running low on bandages and rags."
"True, but we must trust in the General's willpower to overcome this. She still fights, even as you lose faith."
"Why you ungrateful-"
"Enough. Both of you. Your bickering helps no one. Remove yourselves, and do not test my patience again."
Canvas sliding over metal, then silence. A sigh escaped from one of the voices still present.
"She would heal faster if only her powers returned. Perhaps her wounds were so bad to have cut her off from them..."
"For now, at least, but there's a good chance that they will return to her."
"She's still in pretty bad shape, though. And those... markings started appearing only an hour ago, but look how fast they've spread. We should move deeper into Gallia, find aid from Bruhl... or maybe even that militia squad that we-"
"We must give her more time, Johann... But you are right; we cannot stay here much longer if we want her to survive... Not tomorrow, but the day after if she doesn't improve. Have Otto and Oxford prepare for transport, just in case sh-"
It struck like knives in the dark, voices forced aside as the pain of fire returned. Much stronger than before, white-hot, burning strongly in the side of her face and neck to an almost unbearable level. Ice suddenly formed in her throat, freezing her windpipe shut and cutting off what little air she could take in even as her heartbeat hammered hard in between the two extremes. Something bad was happening to her, clawing away at her bit by bit, which only added to her rising panic. She had to get out... had to stop it... WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?!