A Tale of Traitors

The Rebellion

     Everyone was holding their positions around the half-buried airplanes just as I had ordered them to. Four scouts had wandered by, and their bodies were stacked at my feet. Any moment, someone was going to get suspicious and come looking for them. Queen was by my right side and had ditched her signature beanie for a fiery red bun. She waited, surprisingly silent, for my order to move. Facing us was the main camp, overflowing with men. Hundreds of unsuspecting people lay fast asleep under the shelter of rusty airplane wings, peaceful in the dark stillness of the water. From where I crouched behind thick strands of seaweed, I couldn't make out the men's faces. And I didn't want to. I didn't want to remember that each one had a family and bills to pay and a cause to fight for, even though I knew they were in the wrong. The anticipation was brewing in my stomach as we waited for the perfect moment. We were going to win. I needed to remind myself that this was right. Drawing a deep breath, I reminded myself Tormod was evil. These men want him in charge. We're here to squash the rebellion. We will. I'm on the right side of this battle. 

     The soldiers had learned fast. Dalia and I trained them in the ways of electric weapons, which needed to be carefully controlled or they would cause damage to our own troops. Concentrated currents of electricity were shot through the waves, and when aimed correctly would cause instant death to those who were struck. Most of the men had not done well with such advanced technology, so a handful of especially skilled ones were allowed these weapons, simply called conductors. The others we trained to use tridents, which were much easier to handle than conductors. Tridents are essentially underwater swords; conductors are like guns, but with grenades in place of bullets. By grenades, I mean tiny bombs that could explode in any direction in any given second. Both take skill, but the conductor is generally the harder of the two. 



We had about twenty minutes until battle. I needed to distract my thoughts from the pool of anxiety I was drowning in.



     We had assigned a group of intellectual men and women to survey the enemy's movement patterns, and they had determined to the best of their ability that the best time to strike was during the scout changeover. Soon, scouts would come searching for the ones we had been forced to slaughter, so we waited in the deafening silence of the ocean. In fact, the ocean itself is an enemy, the master of a cruel game of life and death birthed and silenced in shadows. The ocean likes swallowing planes and ships whole, quietly sucking the life out of who-knows how many people. At my feet were bones. I didn't know to whom they belonged, or to what kind of person they belonged. They didn't look Elvish. Or human. Definitely not a dwarf's. It was cruel of the ocean, a merciless predator, to steal the lives of people that were on their way to some place greater than where they had been; I'm sure lots of them were moving on to new lives, to meet new people, to do good things. But it was even crueler of the ocean to permanently kidnap them from their homes, to bury them in freezing blankets of sand, rocks, shells, shadows. The ocean favors predators like itself, as is seen by the beasts that thrive within it, and I'm sure it was on our side while we used its cruelty as camouflage. Something felt wrong about these deep, deep waters. Deep down I wondered what trespassing here would cost us. 

     There was an air of peace and dreaming, though the comforting light of the stars wouldn't dare approach the thick waves. I waited on a ledge overlooking the camp as our squadrons carefully surrounded the enemy. The squad leaders waited on my signal. We would swiftly attack and then hurry back to the city once we had won. I was almost certain we would take the victory. Our fighters were inexperienced, yes, and many of them were young, utterly refusing to take orders. It took careful explaining, more than a few times, to get them to understand that if they disobeyed the orders of their leaders, they were allowing evil to win. At the end of the day, every explanation was worth it, because I got to be the one to tell them that through this there was hope for another future. I got to be the one who watched sparks ignite in their eyes for the first time. I got to be the one to share good news with them who had only known pain before, and something in me realized that is what I had been living for all along, to bring hope to those who longed to know it. Everything in me wanted to share the hope I had forgotten I had with those around me, most of whom had never truly understood what hope was. I don't know how they survived without hope. But I do know that the day we came to train them, they hoped for the first time in a long time. More than that, they realized they were about to turn their hopes into reality. We were so close, teetering on the brink of something exciting, terrifying, unknown. We would win today's battle, yes. The real question was if any of us would survive the wrath coming after. 

     The troops were nervous, I could feel it. I had given a small speech before we headed out to observe the enemy camp, and they had all cheered and seemed to believe the victory was theirs. But as the moments of uncertainty continued to pass with no word from me, they were stir-crazy and anxious. Dozens of eyes shot towards me and away again. The youngest troops held their breath until they couldn't anymore, silently sucked in and held it once more. There was no movement in the water, no ripple in the waves. There was no sound, there were no fish. And suddenly I realized it was time.



Every soul was waiting on my command, eager to rise and fight for their hope.



     I sprang to my feet, first thrown into the air, and the other command leaders followed with equal passion. I took a deep breath. With a war cry that shook my throat and came from the depths of my soul, I shouted and broke into the fastest run—or swim—that I could manage. My feet brushed past rocks and through seaweed, tearing towards the stirring enemy. Soon enough, there was a battle cry that made the very waves toss and churn with its power. The enemy didn't stand a chance.



A shower of conductor's shots ravished the enemy, and a hundred tridents tore through the waves. The water was thick and warm with blood and the overwhelming stench of death. 



     Regardless of the terror, there was something invigorating about being back on a battlefield; I knew exactly what I was doing, what I had to do, and who I was doing it for. Strange memories slowly crept back to me with every man I struck down. I definitely didn't miss the disgusting feeling of ripping a hole through a living body, violently and permanently severing the soul from it. There is no joy to be found in that. I didn't miss the gut-wrenching feeling of the adrenaline, nerves, and violence. But I missed knowing that I was a part of something greater, that the ones standing on either side of me were devoted to each other, willing to lay down their lives for a better tomorrow. They were counting on me, and I on them. We wouldn't let each other down.



I launched my conductor at a pack of armored men, their bodies tossed aside like rag dolls.


    Leaders aren't the ones who sit back and order other people to do the hard work, I thought as I cut another merman down. Leaders aren't just the ones who plan and strategize and equip others. Leaders don't set out to merely inspire people, or to just encourage them, or change things because it would be nice to change them. Leaders are the ones who set out with passion for what's right, who are willing to be an outcast if it means making the world better. Leaders are the ones constantly on the front lines, pushing against the enemy and taking blows left and right. They must be focused and on guard at all times. They fight, and they fight with every fiber of their being, never expecting others to have their backs. Queen decapitated a man who was about to take my life. I hadn't seen him coming, but I turned just in time to see the scaly head rest in the sand. Queen nodded at me, and I nodded back. We turned and continued to press forward into the heart of the enemy. Leaders are busy fighting for their own lives, sure, but they're constantly supporting and protecting others. They leap right into the center of trouble when it means fighting for another person. Leaders get no breaks. Real leaders don't set out with an idea to lead people and be loved. No. They do their own thing, they fight on their own, not expecting others to pick up their swords and do the same. They lead on accident, because their passion is contagious. Leaders have the hardest job of all, because just like everyone else, they don't have it all figured out, and they need leading, too.

Being a leader is perhaps the loneliest calling of all.

     I didn't feel alone right then, surrounded by the strongest leaders I have ever known. Queen shoved her way into a crowd of enemies, alone with two enchanted knives in her hands, releasing frequent cries of fury as she stabbed and eliminated men twice her size. Bob was shooting with freaky precision, and no-one was getting any closer than ten feet around him. Adrianna was better with spells than any of us, neon pink and orange swirling from her hands through the waves and illuminating the water. And Dalia... I've never seen anything like it. Her voice carried power, the clamp of her jaw was bone-crushing, and she genuinely seemed to be enjoying causing so much damage. It sent a shiver down my spine.

The victory we carried home was stupendous. The assurance that every single one of my friends had my back, would lay down their lives for me, would fight for and encourage me as long as I lived--that was an even greater win.

And, just like that, the world didn't seem so awful after all.