The Keepers of Azera ( Book 1 of the Keepers Trilogy)

Chapter 8

"I don't get it," James says.

"Why they don't let the older kids leave?" I ask, because that's all he's talked about for the past three days.

"Exactly! It's so stupid. They can fight, they have the training-"

"James? I know. It's all you've talked about since Religion Day."

"I know, I know..." he sighs. It's nighttime, and we've just came back from dinner. "It's just been on my mind, okay?"

"James, I get it."

"I don't understand it though," James sighs. "Do you think I should-"

"James. Let it be." I'm starting to get really annoyed. It's been on and on, and I can't say anything without sounding rude.

He doesn't seem to hear me. "It's not my place to say though, I don't think I should suggest to the Trainers anything..."

"I'm going to go visit Masan," I say tiredly. He ignores me. That's the problem with James. Once his mind gets stuck on something, he can't forget it. He dwells.

I'm not entirely sure why I'm visiting Masan instead of Astrid, but I think it's because I need the peace and quiet, but I also need company. Most of the time the two of us just sit in silence until Chris tries to get us to talk.

I knock on the door of their dorm, and Chris greets me. "Hey! How's it going?"

"James is still talking about the older kids," I say with a sigh.

"Is he? What even got him onto that?"

"Some stupid kids during the fight," I mutter.

"Fight?" Chris repeats blankly.

"Between the Keeper and the Euravic," I explain. "When we were leaving, some kids were being bitter to a couple little ones, and we overheard."

"They're not even kids even more," Masan says quietly from the couch. I hadn't even noticed him until now. "They're legal adults. James does have a point. They should have the choice to leave. That's what we've been trained to do our entire lives. To fight for Azera."

Chris and I both stare at him for a few moments. He turns bright red and goes back to his book. Chris and I look at each other, then we both sit down and discuss recent events. We don't bring up the war, or the fight, or the incident.

After about a half-hour, Chris looks at the clock on the wall-which has only ten numbers around the edge instead of twelve, because our day is a little shorter, and tells me, "You should go. Lights out in thirty minutes."

I nod, get up, and bade them farewell.

***

Get up, go to classes, eat food, go to bed. My days are on repeat, playing out the same scenarios. Do homework. Train. Listen to James's complaints about the older kids. The fighting isn't above our heads anymore, but we occasionally hear it. We are scheduled to have another trip to the surface on Rest Day. That's a change, but the only change we've had for two weeks now.

I make the mistake of asking Matilda, "Will we able to see our families?"

She doesn't look at me, instead continuing to flip through a file. "Callie, you know that these are hard times. Your families are probably very busy, or it isn't safe for them to come. You should know that even without someone telling you."

"Sorry," I mutter and back out of her office.

When I wake up on Rest Day, I can't feel excited even though I won't see my parents. Everyone talks about it during breakfast, even James.

"Do you think we'll do more than stand on the ground?" I ask him.

He swallows his food and takes a drink of water. "What would we do? The capitol's been destroyed."

This is not the answer I wanted or expected. "The capitol's been destroyed? Does that mean..."

"We still have a government. But the actual city's been destroyed. There's nothing there, except some remains of buildings and old homeless people and vagrants. There's nothing left of it."

I take this in quietly. "How do you know that?"

James sighs and puts down his fork. "Remember last Learning Day, when I was gone until dinner?"

"That's where you were?"

He nods. "We were scouting out the place, to see if you guys could maybe spend a day there."

"Then why are we going up to the surface?"

He shrugs and continues eating. I watch him for a few moments. "What's the point of us going up to the surface if we're not doing anything?" When he doesn't answer, I poke his shoulder. "James?"

"Hm?"

I repeat the question. James looks at me. "I have no idea, because the surface is a wreck. It's a war-torn mess."

"But once this is all over, they'll fix everything, right?"

"They always do, in the end. But you have to understand-this is the worst war Azera has ever seen. It's gonna be a long while before life returns back to normal-if we make it through."

Those last five words scare me. If we make it through? Why wouldn't we?

"I don't think I want to go to the surface," I say quietly.

"You kind of have to, Callie. You don't have a choice in this matter."

"Why not?" I challenge.

"It's mandatory," he explains, then adds quickly, "And don't look at me like that; I'm not the one forcing everyone else. They've got construction to do on the base."

"What construction? And who will do it?"

"No idea, and no idea. Come on, let's go grab our jackets before we go," he says, pulling me from the table. I provide little resistance.