Gears (NaNoWriMo 2017) (#1 Below the Machines)

Chapter 11

The next few days passed by without much excitement, as the Lieutenant - General was still on duty, probably overseeing the problem with the breaking of ur first defences. It was actually quite enjoyable, our training sessions. I found myself feeling more focused and the concentration came easier. Slowly, I also felt that I was improving, my co-ordination getting stronger and stronger, my skills also building up. I was gaining experience, bit by bit, and however slow this progress was (much preferred to the lieutenant - general's methods), it was doing wonders to me. I felt more alive, perceptive and stronger than I had in what felt like years — but then I'd only been exaggerating, as I couldn't really remember much about myself from my past.

The memories and flashbacks also slowed down as well, decreasing, until I had almost gotten rid of all of them. I hadn't had one in days, and I no longer found myself waking up in the middle of the night from a flashback, drenched in panicked sweat.

But still, during those repetitive days, I noticed a change in Maid 27. She seemed... different.

She spoke less and less, and seemed even more reserved than usual — which was a great feat. I didn't even know it was possible for her to get any quieter, but she seemed to have proven me wrong. It was almost scary now, how silent it was in my room. The small area seemed to get smaller each and every day, and each time I was taken out to training, I couldn't help but feel glad and relaxed to hear someone's — if anyone's — voice. There was something she wasn't telling me. I could practically sense it radiating off her.

It was annoying — how everyone around me knew everything, yet I had no clue or even a small hint of what was going on. All the information they gave me all only concerned me and only me — no one else. It was extremely frustrating. I couldn't even talk — and yet, nobody wanted to tell me anything. No body approached me either.

I was more alone than ever.

A part of me rejoiced at this, told me that this was needed — isolation was the key to my concentration and improvement.

But a more instinctive, powerful, conscious wormed its way into my heart — which was probably also reinforced with metal too. It was funny actually — the slight irony. The backs of my memory always remembered the strangest of sayings — like how hearts made of stone couldn't feel.

Mine was metal — did that count?

I gave a wry smile at my own weak attempt at a joke. But going back to that feeling, it felt so familiarly... right. It made me feel... 'sad' — disappointed, almost. It gave this uncomfortable tug in my heart, something that I couldn't place, or find the words to describe. Yet, it was so comforting. Which didn't make sense. An utterly pointless and confusing way of comparison.

I gave a weak attempt brushing it aside at the order of the metallic whisper, but when the feeling didn't budge, I wilfully let it settle there.

I think that reassured me that they hadn't taken everything away from me. It was a strange and old thought, but I let it stay there, as with the feeling of loneliness. There was something powerful and strong about it — something that I, once again, couldn't identify.

No, stop it. You are stone, you are steel. You will not break and you will be strong.

But, in all honesty, my little chant didn't work at all. This thought wasn't one of weakness or question, but rather, something set down and decided. Something that was far more instinctive than thoughtful.

"Mistress."

I raised my head, bringing myself back to my surroundings.

Maid 27 stood at the door, her hands clasped tightly as usual, head bowed. These days, all she ever did was address me when it came to informing me that it was time for another training session. I set down the notebook and pencil in my hand, closing the notebook to conceal the drawings that lay on the pages.