Deluge of Desolation | l. ackerman

Fatal Doom

"Let whoever can win glory before death. When a warrior is gone, that will be his best and only bulwark."

Anonymous, Beowulf

(chapter eight)

"Are you still planning on joining the scouts, June?"

I sighed at the question, leaning my arms on the metal rail of the balcony that overlooked the city of Fürth. Our commander, Dennis Kitzler, decided it would be helpful for us to undergo a training exercise within a populated district. He said something about wanting us to be prepared for any predicaments that may come our way. Kit forewarned the capitals and inhabitants that a bunch of soldiers in training would be running throughout the streets and alleys for a self defense task. So, naturally, I snuck away from the group and up onto a balcony of an old hotel to enjoy the warm, pollen-laden spring breeze where I ran into my old friend, Hange Zoe.

Leaning my head in the palms of my hands, I respond, "I wish I could tell you. Second thoughts seem to always be eating away at me."

"Everyone has perilous reservations. You are no exception, my friend." Hange smiles at me.

I hum in acknowledgement, drum the tips of my fingers against my cheek, and continue. "I really hadn't an idea of what I was doing when I enlisted in the military. I needed a cause and an excuse to get away from that sinister place back then, so without much thought, I signed my life away on the capital's roster. I've considered myself furthering my career in each regiment, but each one seems so...undesirable In their own ways, you know?"

"The Military Police more so than the Scouts, I trust?" She joked.

I huff in amusement. "By a land slide. Doesn't make the Scouts any more appealing, though. I value my life, perhaps more than humanity, and that makes me selfish. Frightfully so. By that logic of thought, I cannot find the mental vitality in myself that one needs to be an active Scout."

"Don't fool yourself," Said Hange with a quirk of her lips, "We are all selfish in that regard."

I look at her with my countenance of sheer skepticism, as I could only assume. "Then why lay down your life? For what? A mass of ignorant citizens that chastise your fight with as much effort as you expend during your fight for their freedom? I find that utterly appalling."

Hange sighed, as though this question has been plaguing her thoughts and threatening her purpose. A tone of regret invaded my senses, but I quickly shunned away such a cowardly thought. "You should know this as well as I do, June. Some people aren't content with themselves; their valor or their resolve, so they take liberty of projecting their misfortunes onto us freedom fighters. They hide behind facades, pretending like they are content with themselves when in reality, they are nothing but a shell of an unwanted human who reaps nothing but dismay to those around them."

With furrowed eyebrows and an ever-present frown, my late brother, Zeke, came to mind. The manner in which he would air his grievances and boast his haughty disposition about how Marley should rather heed to our needs than fetter us to line of DNA by interning us. But his values were never consistent. Typical Zeke. After his reverence-inducing monologues, he would go on to justify Marley's cruel acts of slavery, muttering about how, regardless of our containment, we were still able to lead, generally, peaceful lives.

Then, my mind drifted to Shadis and his altruistic character. "The commander is like that, you know. Perhaps not so extreme as you described, but he is definitely hiding behind a facade." I vaguely say in the breeze.

"Who? Kitzler?" Hange asks with innocent eyes.

I shake my head back and forth. "No, Shadis. The man isn't fit to be in the position he's in now. He is far too emotional."