All That Is Red (14 page)

“It’s ... It’s all ... all my fault. It’s all my fault.” He kept repeating this mantra, but his words were broken, just like him.

“No, it’s not.”

“Why can’t you see that it is?” he roared. There was a moment of quiet when neither of us spoke. “I’m sorry,” he eventually murmured. “But it’s
all my fault that I mindlessly insisted on having a confrontation with the White. I should have known something like this would happen. You’re the leader of the cause. You trusted me on this
and I let you down. I let everyone down.”

“No one knew-” I began.

“You knew. Gerrard knew. Even Devonport and Nalin knew. Why didn’t I? Why couldn’t I have just listened?”

“It’s ... It’s all right,” I said in an attempt to calm him.

“No, it’s not all right. You don’t understand,” he snapped. “I just killed two of my own people. I’m a murderer.”

“You didn’t directly kill them,” I responded, as I tried to reason with him.

“And that makes me any better? Don’t you see that I’m no better than the White is? We’re one and the same. We both have innocent blood on our hands.”

I couldn’t find the words to reply to that. Whatever I thought had flown out of my mind. In that instant, all we had was each other. We were crumpled in the middle of the floor,
desperately clinging on to each other in the hopes that one of us had the strength to stand.

C
HAPTER
13

The day after the arrival of the letter, the boy made the official announcement for war. Although it had been long awaited, the announcement itself was met with apprehensive
faces. Everyone had already expected us to go to war with the White. The question was always merely when.

“Do you have some time to talk?” Keldon peered out from behind the door.

Elspheth, who had been sitting next to the door in her usual spot, scowled at him. She muttered about whether anyone here had the decency to knock.

“Elspheth, can you please let Keldon in?” I asked, trying to give her something to do, since she grimaced whenever I answered the door on my own.

Elspheth complied, leading Keldon inside.

“Of course, I always have time for you,” I told him. “Is this about Lilith?”

“No, not at all,” he said. “Might we go outside?” he asked, glancing toward Elspheth who glared back at him.

“A walk would be a great idea, especially with this beautiful weather we’re having,” I agreed and Keldon and I edged toward the door.

“When will I be expecting you back?” Elspheth asked, completely ignoring Keldon.

“Around noon,” I replied off the top of my head. Desperate to escape, Keldon and I left before Elspheth could make any further complaints.

I wondered if Elspheth would have treated me the same way if she had known that I was the real leader of the Red cause. Somehow, I doubted it.

“I ... I wanted to talk to you about the war we’re getting into,” Keldon said. He seemed guarded, trying to pick his words carefully.

“You can be frank with me,” I reminded him. “I’m not in the position to judge you for your words.”

He nodded, as if convinced. “What do you think of it?” he asked.

“Of the war you mean? There’s nothing to think of it,” I replied. “A war is a war. Some people will die and some people will live through it until the next war.” I
remembered the boy’s attempt at mediation. “It’s what people seem to do when words don’t stand a chance.”

“So you don’t believe in it?” He sounded confused. “You stand with the commander, yet you don’t believe in what he says?”

“I don’t know what I believe in anymore,” I said truthfully. “I, like everybody else, try to stand on the side of justice. But with people on both sides, justice seems to
have made an exit. She’s not on either side anymore and I find myself choosing the side that stands for the least number of deaths. Thousands of people and unfeelings will die in this war,
but if the White wins, more deaths will follow.”

Keldon nodded. “I’m prepared to serve in this war,” he said.

I looked up at him with surprise. “You’re prepared to leave your wife and Lilith?”

“It’s in the best interest of their future,” Keldon explained.

“Think about their future if you don’t come back,” I prompted. “Think about Lilith, who’s already lost both her parents to the White. Are you willing to put her
through this again?”

“And what if their future is governed by The Pure One? And they’re as devoid of emotion as the unfeelings? What then?”

“Then at least they’d have you.”

Keldon was silent, so I continued. “Stay for your family. You can still help the war effort, but they need you here.”

Keldon didn’t say anything and our walk back was in silence.

Elspheth stood up when I arrived at my room. “That was short,” she remarked. “Did something go wrong?”

This was one of the reasons why I sometimes found myself liking Elspheth. Though her bluntness might have been painful to someone else, to me it was a way not to cut corners. She was always
upfront with what she thought or wanted to say. I took solace in the fact that she would never hide anything from me.

I assured Elspheth that nothing was wrong and that I was going out for another walk.

“Another one? I’ll never understand what it is with you and your walks.”

“I guess they’re a way for me to collect my thoughts.”

“And you can’t do that here?” she asked. “By the way, the commander asked for you to check up on the various training courses that are going on right now.”

“Did he mention any one in particular?”

“No, just all of them in general. And then you have another meeting with him.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you, I almost forgot.”

Elspheth expressed her disdain quite clearly on her face. “What will we do with you, always forgetting? The cause depends on you!”

I forced a laugh. “I hardly doubt that,” I said, thankful she didn’t know exactly how much it depended on me. I closed the door behind me, relieved to be alone again.

The training the former commander had started was once again resumed, this time with new vigor. Trigon and human, men and women, young and old; they all came together for the war effort. Some
practiced combat, others medicine, some prepared food ... the list seemed endless, yet short for what needed to be done. Nevertheless, everybody was doing something.

Between checking up on everyone for the new commander and attending planning meetings with him and the generals, I did my part. The meetings went relatively smoothly, since the former commander
had prepared much for this inevitable war. People waved to me as I passed them. I was well known as the commander’s right hand and I was a regular sight during training.

The combat training was well underway, its people practicing close encounter tactics, while the medical training group was learning about sterile amputations. We were still in the stages of
critical learning. Thankfully, we had time to prepare.

I spied the boy walking with Gerrard, most probably discussing something for the twentieth time. I caught up to them and decided to join the pair.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” the boy exclaimed. “How goes all the preparations?”

“Everything seems to be going smoothly. The people are taking things in stride,” I said.

“Why don’t you join Gerrard and me? We were just discussing some details of our strategy.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve got to go. I have a meeting with Devonport, and I don’t dare be late.” Gerrard winked in his easy manner. “I hope you two can excuse
me.” With that, he dashed off to his next meeting.

“Well, then it’s just you and me walking,” the boy said.

“It seems as though we’re always walking.” I tried to laugh, thinking of our journey here.

“Yes it does, doesn’t it?”

“How is the planning going?” I asked the boy.

“As usual, Devonport and Gerrard are still bickering over the details of everything and Nalin is being overworked by everyone.” The boy laughed. “Nothing has
changed.”

“And everything is going as planned and on schedule?” I asked.

“Yes, we’re cutting it a bit close, but I guess that’s what you might expect,” the boy admitted. “I’m not exactly sure of what I’m doing or what’s
normal. Remember, I’ve never helped plan a war before.” He laughed, and then he suddenly got quiet. “Sometimes I rail against the commander in the middle of the night for having
left us in a time like this. I know it wasn’t her fault, but sometimes we ... I need her so much.”

I understood what he was saying. Sometimes I thought the same thing. In a way, it was as if the commander had deserted us right when we needed her most. I felt bad for the boy especially. Though
I was the real leader and therefore made the decisions, I only led in front of the boy and the generals, while the boy had to stand before the people and be judged by them.

“When are we planning for the war to begin?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Wars seem to have a way of beginning themselves and this one has been many years in the making,” he replied, melancholically.

“But when are the people calling to attack The Pure One’s City?” I pressed.

“In one week’s time,” he said.

“That soon?” I was baffled. I had thought we would have more time to prepare.

“The Pure One already expects us. There’s no reason to delay it,” the boy shrugged.

“But why is the war on The Pure One’s terms? Why can’t we decide?”

“We are. The people have been preparing both mentally and physically for years. They’re ready.”

“But-”

“Trust me,” he responded, before I could finish my thought. I remembered of the last time he had said those words. “If you can trust me on anything, trust me on
this.”

I wasn’t so sure about going to war so soon, but I didn’t dare question the boy’s judgment.

We turned the corner to see a crowd of younger Trigons huddled around something.

“What do you think is going on there?” I wondered aloud.

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.”

When the crowd saw the boy approaching, they quickly fled, leaving behind the unidentifiable lump around which they had been huddled. I caught up with the boy, who was now crouched beside the
abandoned mass. The lump moved and I saw it was a Trigon girl. With the help of the boy, we sat her up.

She clutched the side for her head and blood was trickled through her fingers. The upper lip of her center face was also bleeding and there was a Red mark on her right face, as if someone had
aggressively slapped her.

Although her pain was obviously excruciating, she could still walk, albeit with help. Carefully supporting her, we made our way back to the boy’s room. There we helped her sit on the bed
when lying down proved too painful.

“Go get a physician or a nurse,” the boy told his assistant. “What’s your name?” he asked the Trigon girl.

“Denae,” she gasped. She was having trouble breathing.

The boy started pacing, muttering to himself about where all the medically trained people disappeared to when an emergency happens. When the door opened, the boy practically sprang up, helping a
middle-aged human woman carry a large basin of water.

“Oh dear,” the woman tutted to herself. “What have you gotten yourself into ...?”

The woman carefully proceeded to tap different parts of the girl’s body. Denae let out a sharp gasp when the woman reached her right side.

“Ah,” the woman drawled. “Cracked rib on the right. Other than that and the cuts and bruises, I think you’re in luck.” She reached into her apron pocket and drew
out a few leaves and other materials. “Chew the willow tree bark for pain and drink these oregano leaves brewed in hot water for sleep.” She gave the bark to Denae and began brewing the
leaves. The woman stayed for a short time to instruct us on what to do, and then she left us on our own.

I tended the cut on Denae’s right face, while the boy cooled her left face with a washcloth. Soon after drinking the oregano brew, she settled into a light fitful sleep and the boy and I
had time to talk.

“What do you think happened out there?” he asked me.

“I don’t know. She looks heavily beaten up.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” the boy said. “It doesn’t look like she tried to defend herself at all. It was like she gave up on herself from the start.”

“Maybe she did,” I responded, “but there’s no way to tell right now. We’ll just have to wait until morning to ask her.”

The boy didn’t look content at my answer, but he knew it was true.

I spent the night in a chair beside the bed and the boy did the same. Periodically, we would wake to hear the girl fighting for breath or heaving in pain. We did what we could to comfort her,
until she fell back asleep. Such was the night, with sleep so sporadic that we both had trouble getting up the next morning.

When the boy and I finally woke up, we found the girl already sitting up in bed with a pillow propped up behind her back. Her Red hair hung limply down her back and her bangs brushed her
discolored cheeks. The side of her head with the gash on it was starting to swell, but the cut on her lip had finally stopped bleeding.

“Why did you help me?” Her voice held traces of the same accent the former commander had.

“You were hurt,” the boy simply answered. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Then you don’t know.”

I moved to sit by her. “Don’t know what?” I asked gently. “Why someone did this?” I motioned to her battered body.

She only mutely nodded.

“No one has reason to do this,” the boy stated, coming closer.

“But they do.” Denae’s voice was soft.

“Who’s this ‘they’ that did this?” I asked, but she didn’t answer me.

“Did you do something?” the boy asked directly. “What was it that they thought you did?”

“If you’re asking if I committed a wrong, I did,” Denae said, her voice stronger now. “I loved someone, a human.” Red tears readily fell down all her faces.

“And they didn’t approve of it?” the boy guessed.

Denae shook her head slowly.

“And they abused you?” I asked.

She hesitantly confirmed my suspicion.

“What kind of people are they to do such a thing?” The boy spat his words out. His voice escalated, as his temper snapped. The boy stormed to the door, itching to go out and do
something about what had already happened.