Post by Darkjak87 on Jan 19, 2014 11:49:53 GMT -5
Zrion visits his parents' graves. Monica accompanies him.
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The Forest was quiet that day, something for which Zrion was thankful. He’d been reluctant to bring Monica in the first place, but ever since Zephan had started tutoring her, she had been desperate for any excuse to go back to the Forest. She’d been begging to accompany him ever since she’d caught wind of his planned trip, and eventually Zrion had agreed.
It wasn’t even the potential danger, not really. After all, Metal Heads tended to skirt the forest. Zephan believed it was because they were repulsed by it, as it was so unlike their own unnatural existence. The real reason Zrion had not wanted to bring her was because this was something he preferred to do alone.
But, after falling victim to Monica’s puppy-dog eyes, Zrion had given in. She hadn’t looked quite so eager once he had explained why he was going, but she had decided to accompany him anyway. As shy as Monica was, she had something of a stubborn streak when she had her mind set on something.
The two of them were now slowly walking through the forest, neither of them speaking. Monica was basking in the sights and sensations of the forest, while Zrion simply didn’t feel like talking. After all, he was never in a cheerful mood on these occasions.
He and his parents had always loved Haven Forest. They’d even had a favorite spot, a small clearing about half a mile from the wall, across a shallow creek and through a dense cluster of trees. If his father hadn’t stumbled across it during a hike, they never would have even known of its existence. As much as they had loved it, it seemed only right that they be buried there.
The trickling of the stream was Zrion’s guide. A thick, sturdy log lay across it, like a makeshift bridge connecting the two sides. Zrion carefully walked across, Monica hanging onto him for balance. After that, it was only a short walk through the trees to the well-hidden clearing that was his destination.
When they arrived, neither of them spoke, offering a moment of silent respect for the headstones in the middle of the clearing. After a moment, Zrion took a step, almost reluctantly, and he slowly walked up to them. He came to a stop in front of them, close enough to read the inscriptions on the granite stones.
The more recent one, on the left, read:
Rachel Zrion née Vargas
2274-2313
Died in the Battle of Deadtown
“Though she died a hero, let us never forget her as she was in life.”
The other was a few feet to the right, and was identical. In fact, it had even been cut from the same stone, a poetic gesture that Zrion himself had seen to. The inscription read:
Alexander Zrion
2270-2313
Died at the Metal Head Nest
“Though we may sometimes forget our cause, let us never forget our sacrifices.”
And a few feet behind them sat a larger headstone, centered behind both of the graves. The inscription on this one read:
Rachel and Alexander Zrion
Husband and wife. Loving parents. Heroes of Haven City.
“Together in death as they were in life, for though life is short, love is everlasting.”
For the longest time, Zrion just stood there, reading the words over and over again as memories washed over him.
He kept replaying his father’s death over in his mind, his broken body a horrific sight as he whispered his last words to his son. “No regrets,” he’d said. Zrion had never quite understood what he was referring to, but he’d clung to the words like his life depended on it.
The funeral, a solemn affair. A circle of red, almost everyone there a soldier in uniform. A Precursor Monk droning at length about his heroics, his career, but barely even mentioning his family. He finished with a prayer, and asked if anyone would like to speak. Zrion had decided against it. If he tried, he’d have broken into tears. His mother had sobbed into his shoulder as the oak casket was lowered into the grave, the flag of Haven City draped over it. A twenty-one gun salute echoed through the forest as the grave was filled in.
Then, a week later, it happened all over again. A second tombstone, a second grave, a second casket. It was almost mirror-perfect. Even the monk was the same. But this time Zrion stood alone, a bandage wrapped around his head. His face distorted in grief as the casket was lowered, but no tears fell. He was simply beyond tears at that point. In his mind, he pictured a third grave, but this time only the monk was there, speaking to an audience of empty chairs.
He would have stood like that for hours if he hadn’t felt a tug at his pants. Surprised, Zrion looked down to see Monica worriedly looking up at him. Zrion had almost forgotten she was there.
“Zrion?” She asked shyly. “Could…would you tell me about them?” Looking closely, Zrion could see tears forming in her eyes. For his sake, or because it was stirring up unpleasant memories for her?
“I…okay,” Zrion said hesitantly. “Where do I start…”
He waited for a long while as he tried to sort his thoughts before beginning. “My dad…He was always strong. Always. I never saw him break down, or cry, or panic. He got angry, and had doubts like everybody else, but he never let that control him. He’d waver once in a while, but never break. Determined, confident…Now that I’m in his shoes, I wonder if he was actually that sure of himself, or if it was just the act he put on for the troops. I’ll never know for sure I guess, but ever since I got my own command I’ve always had to wonder.
“Both my parents pushed me to succeed, but Dad was always tougher on me. He always wanted me to do better, said that if we wanted to win the war we had to outdo the Metal Heads a hundred times over. He pushed me hard, made me exercise every day, tutored me a bit. He wasn’t shy talking about the war around me either, no matter how nasty the details were. I think he was trying to toughen me up for when I joined the Guard myself, both physically and mentally. He’d always wanted me to do that. Mom did too, for that matter, but she would’ve accepted it if I’d wanted to do something different.
“Dad acted a lot like me too. He was pretty sarcastic. Mom hated that about him, but that never stopped him. He spent a lot of nights on the couch when they were home.” Zrion smiled for a moment. “She was horrified when it turned out I’d gotten his sense of humor. I still remember the first time I said something snarky to her. Dad burst out laughing, and Mom looked like she couldn’t decide who she wanted to slap for it. Eventually she settled on both.”
“Mom didn’t like sarcasm, you see. She hated it when people talked down to her, even if they were just joking. It comes with being a woman in the military – people don’t take you as seriously. Women aren’t conscripted like men are, so most of them work in the home, or in factories, rather than as soldiers. Mom always took exception to that, and she was good at what she did.
“She always tried to set her own bar, to go against the norm and prove herself. She didn’t want to work in a factory, or be a seamstress. She wanted to fight, to show everyone that women could do everything men could.”
Then, suddenly, Zrion laughed. “That reminds me. Mom and Dad used to get into little spats all the time about that. Just playful stuff, man-verses-woman schoolyard crap. It was pretty childish, to be honest, but it was funny to watch. Anyway, they’d always compete with each other, and whenever she did better than Dad at something, he’d always say “Well, at least I can pee standing up.”
“That worked for a while. Mom said it was stupid and that she didn’t care, but Dad always fell back on that. Then, one day when he said it, Mom just raised an eyebrow and held up a cardboard tube. It took Dad a minute to figure out what she was getting at, but you should’ve seen the look on his face when he did.”
The smile slipped off his face, and his expression become contemplative. “You know, I always thought it was ironic. She was half the size of my dad, but she had twice as much fire. Dad was always the calm, calculating one. He was a general, so he had to be. Mom was more passionate. When she did something, she did it with feeling. Her troops loved that about her. She said it made them fight harder. And you remember how I said I wonder sometimes if my Dad’s attitude was just an act? I never got that feeling from Mom. She was honest, and I know for sure that everything she said or did, she meant it. Maybe that’s why she took his death so hard.
Zrion sighed, looking solemn. “She didn’t take it well when he died. He’d been against the attack on the Nest from the start. He thought we needed to surround it and starve the Metal Heads out, rather than attack head-on. Metal Heads can’t survive without Eco, so eventually they’d either have to throw themselves at us, or just starve in their own home. If the Baron had listened to him, maybe we’d have won, and maybe he’d still be here.
“Well, it didn’t end well. We threw everything we had at them, and all we got was blood and scrap metal. Dad was just one of many people that died there. He always led from the front, and that caught up to him at the Nest. When our lines broke, his command post got swarmed. We managed to push back and link up with him, but it was already too late. I heard his last words, but he died a few minutes later.
“Mom…She was devastated. You remember how I said she had twice as much fire as Dad? Well, after he died, it was like it was all gone. For a while, she just seemed…empty. She couldn’t believe it at first, said it had to be a mistake, but when she saw his body…”
Zrion sighed again. “She just started crying her eyes out, latched onto me, and bawled for hours. She was angry at first. Blamed everyone from the Baron to herself. After that, she was just sad. It was…honestly terrifying for me to watch her break down like that. She was all I had left, and she was coming apart in front of me.
“She got herself back together in time for the funeral. She made most of the arrangements, except for the epitaph on the stone. I came up with that. She decided to bury him here, when to have the funeral. Arranged for the military burial and the 21-gun salute and everything. She cried again during the funeral, but it seemed…different that time. It wasn’t desperate or angry, it was just…grief. She was still torn up about it, but she’d accepted it by then.
“She sort of separated herself from me after that. I think she just needed time alone. But the weird thing is that she didn’t take any time off. She threw herself back into the war, maybe to keep her mind off things. She stopped writing for a while. The next thing I heard about her, she’d been killed in Dead Town. I heard a few stories from the soldiers with her. She was in tears, screaming for them to push back, to drive the Metal Heads out of the city. Telling them they had to kill them all, to prevent any more deaths. They succeeded, eventually, but she died in the process.
“Well, I wasn’t in good shape after Dead Town either. That was where I lost my eye. I was still in the hospital when they told me, but I was the only one left in the family, so I had to make all the arrangements. I pretty much had to do everything from my hospital bed. Telling them I wanted the tombstone cut from the same rock as my Dad’s, and I ordered another one too, that big one at the back.
I was out of bed by the time they were ready to bury her. Half my head was bandaged, and I was supposed to be on painkillers, but I didn’t take any because I wanted to remember everything. I stood off on my own, apart from the soldiers that had served with her. It was like I was watching everything I had left to live for, being lowered into the ground.
“Honestly, I was at a loss after that,” Zrion admitted. “For a while, I thought I’d even get my own grave in the same spot before long. If I hadn’t been selected for Special Operations training, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I wouldn’t have even been a Guard anymore because of my eye. Special Operations said they’d work around it, that soldier of my talents would be worth the handicap. I guess they were right, but even so…”
He trailed off. “Sorry I talked so much,” he said sheepishly. “I got a bit carried away…But I guess you got what you asked for, anyway.”
“It’s okay Zrion,” Monica said quietly. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears herself. “They sounded like really good people…I’m sorry they’re gone.”
“Yeah…me too,” Zrion said somberly. He had been reluctant to bring Monica along at first, but now he was glad he did. This was a pain that they could share, as they had both suffered the same loss, to the same creatures. They handled it in different ways, but the pain of the injury was the same.
After a few more minutes, Zrion spoke up again. “We should get back,” he said. “It’s…been long enough.”
Monica nodded, and the two walked in silence, back over the stream, and toward the city proper. Before they got there though, Monica spoke up again. “Um…Zrion?” she queried.
Zrion looked at her inquisitively.
“How often do you do this?”
“Once or twice a year, usually…why?”
“Can I come with you again, next time?” she asked timidly. “You…just looked so sad and I thought…Maybe you’d want the company.”
For the longest time, Zrion just looked at her, almost disbelieving. He had thought that, if anything, Monica would have wanted to avoid doing this again, if only to avoid reminders of her own loss. But instead, she was offering to accompany him again. A shoulder to lean on.
“You know…” Zrion spoke. “I think I’d like that very much.”
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The Forest was quiet that day, something for which Zrion was thankful. He’d been reluctant to bring Monica in the first place, but ever since Zephan had started tutoring her, she had been desperate for any excuse to go back to the Forest. She’d been begging to accompany him ever since she’d caught wind of his planned trip, and eventually Zrion had agreed.
It wasn’t even the potential danger, not really. After all, Metal Heads tended to skirt the forest. Zephan believed it was because they were repulsed by it, as it was so unlike their own unnatural existence. The real reason Zrion had not wanted to bring her was because this was something he preferred to do alone.
But, after falling victim to Monica’s puppy-dog eyes, Zrion had given in. She hadn’t looked quite so eager once he had explained why he was going, but she had decided to accompany him anyway. As shy as Monica was, she had something of a stubborn streak when she had her mind set on something.
The two of them were now slowly walking through the forest, neither of them speaking. Monica was basking in the sights and sensations of the forest, while Zrion simply didn’t feel like talking. After all, he was never in a cheerful mood on these occasions.
He and his parents had always loved Haven Forest. They’d even had a favorite spot, a small clearing about half a mile from the wall, across a shallow creek and through a dense cluster of trees. If his father hadn’t stumbled across it during a hike, they never would have even known of its existence. As much as they had loved it, it seemed only right that they be buried there.
The trickling of the stream was Zrion’s guide. A thick, sturdy log lay across it, like a makeshift bridge connecting the two sides. Zrion carefully walked across, Monica hanging onto him for balance. After that, it was only a short walk through the trees to the well-hidden clearing that was his destination.
When they arrived, neither of them spoke, offering a moment of silent respect for the headstones in the middle of the clearing. After a moment, Zrion took a step, almost reluctantly, and he slowly walked up to them. He came to a stop in front of them, close enough to read the inscriptions on the granite stones.
The more recent one, on the left, read:
Rachel Zrion née Vargas
2274-2313
Died in the Battle of Deadtown
“Though she died a hero, let us never forget her as she was in life.”
The other was a few feet to the right, and was identical. In fact, it had even been cut from the same stone, a poetic gesture that Zrion himself had seen to. The inscription read:
Alexander Zrion
2270-2313
Died at the Metal Head Nest
“Though we may sometimes forget our cause, let us never forget our sacrifices.”
And a few feet behind them sat a larger headstone, centered behind both of the graves. The inscription on this one read:
Rachel and Alexander Zrion
Husband and wife. Loving parents. Heroes of Haven City.
“Together in death as they were in life, for though life is short, love is everlasting.”
For the longest time, Zrion just stood there, reading the words over and over again as memories washed over him.
He kept replaying his father’s death over in his mind, his broken body a horrific sight as he whispered his last words to his son. “No regrets,” he’d said. Zrion had never quite understood what he was referring to, but he’d clung to the words like his life depended on it.
The funeral, a solemn affair. A circle of red, almost everyone there a soldier in uniform. A Precursor Monk droning at length about his heroics, his career, but barely even mentioning his family. He finished with a prayer, and asked if anyone would like to speak. Zrion had decided against it. If he tried, he’d have broken into tears. His mother had sobbed into his shoulder as the oak casket was lowered into the grave, the flag of Haven City draped over it. A twenty-one gun salute echoed through the forest as the grave was filled in.
Then, a week later, it happened all over again. A second tombstone, a second grave, a second casket. It was almost mirror-perfect. Even the monk was the same. But this time Zrion stood alone, a bandage wrapped around his head. His face distorted in grief as the casket was lowered, but no tears fell. He was simply beyond tears at that point. In his mind, he pictured a third grave, but this time only the monk was there, speaking to an audience of empty chairs.
He would have stood like that for hours if he hadn’t felt a tug at his pants. Surprised, Zrion looked down to see Monica worriedly looking up at him. Zrion had almost forgotten she was there.
“Zrion?” She asked shyly. “Could…would you tell me about them?” Looking closely, Zrion could see tears forming in her eyes. For his sake, or because it was stirring up unpleasant memories for her?
“I…okay,” Zrion said hesitantly. “Where do I start…”
He waited for a long while as he tried to sort his thoughts before beginning. “My dad…He was always strong. Always. I never saw him break down, or cry, or panic. He got angry, and had doubts like everybody else, but he never let that control him. He’d waver once in a while, but never break. Determined, confident…Now that I’m in his shoes, I wonder if he was actually that sure of himself, or if it was just the act he put on for the troops. I’ll never know for sure I guess, but ever since I got my own command I’ve always had to wonder.
“Both my parents pushed me to succeed, but Dad was always tougher on me. He always wanted me to do better, said that if we wanted to win the war we had to outdo the Metal Heads a hundred times over. He pushed me hard, made me exercise every day, tutored me a bit. He wasn’t shy talking about the war around me either, no matter how nasty the details were. I think he was trying to toughen me up for when I joined the Guard myself, both physically and mentally. He’d always wanted me to do that. Mom did too, for that matter, but she would’ve accepted it if I’d wanted to do something different.
“Dad acted a lot like me too. He was pretty sarcastic. Mom hated that about him, but that never stopped him. He spent a lot of nights on the couch when they were home.” Zrion smiled for a moment. “She was horrified when it turned out I’d gotten his sense of humor. I still remember the first time I said something snarky to her. Dad burst out laughing, and Mom looked like she couldn’t decide who she wanted to slap for it. Eventually she settled on both.”
“Mom didn’t like sarcasm, you see. She hated it when people talked down to her, even if they were just joking. It comes with being a woman in the military – people don’t take you as seriously. Women aren’t conscripted like men are, so most of them work in the home, or in factories, rather than as soldiers. Mom always took exception to that, and she was good at what she did.
“She always tried to set her own bar, to go against the norm and prove herself. She didn’t want to work in a factory, or be a seamstress. She wanted to fight, to show everyone that women could do everything men could.”
Then, suddenly, Zrion laughed. “That reminds me. Mom and Dad used to get into little spats all the time about that. Just playful stuff, man-verses-woman schoolyard crap. It was pretty childish, to be honest, but it was funny to watch. Anyway, they’d always compete with each other, and whenever she did better than Dad at something, he’d always say “Well, at least I can pee standing up.”
“That worked for a while. Mom said it was stupid and that she didn’t care, but Dad always fell back on that. Then, one day when he said it, Mom just raised an eyebrow and held up a cardboard tube. It took Dad a minute to figure out what she was getting at, but you should’ve seen the look on his face when he did.”
The smile slipped off his face, and his expression become contemplative. “You know, I always thought it was ironic. She was half the size of my dad, but she had twice as much fire. Dad was always the calm, calculating one. He was a general, so he had to be. Mom was more passionate. When she did something, she did it with feeling. Her troops loved that about her. She said it made them fight harder. And you remember how I said I wonder sometimes if my Dad’s attitude was just an act? I never got that feeling from Mom. She was honest, and I know for sure that everything she said or did, she meant it. Maybe that’s why she took his death so hard.
Zrion sighed, looking solemn. “She didn’t take it well when he died. He’d been against the attack on the Nest from the start. He thought we needed to surround it and starve the Metal Heads out, rather than attack head-on. Metal Heads can’t survive without Eco, so eventually they’d either have to throw themselves at us, or just starve in their own home. If the Baron had listened to him, maybe we’d have won, and maybe he’d still be here.
“Well, it didn’t end well. We threw everything we had at them, and all we got was blood and scrap metal. Dad was just one of many people that died there. He always led from the front, and that caught up to him at the Nest. When our lines broke, his command post got swarmed. We managed to push back and link up with him, but it was already too late. I heard his last words, but he died a few minutes later.
“Mom…She was devastated. You remember how I said she had twice as much fire as Dad? Well, after he died, it was like it was all gone. For a while, she just seemed…empty. She couldn’t believe it at first, said it had to be a mistake, but when she saw his body…”
Zrion sighed again. “She just started crying her eyes out, latched onto me, and bawled for hours. She was angry at first. Blamed everyone from the Baron to herself. After that, she was just sad. It was…honestly terrifying for me to watch her break down like that. She was all I had left, and she was coming apart in front of me.
“She got herself back together in time for the funeral. She made most of the arrangements, except for the epitaph on the stone. I came up with that. She decided to bury him here, when to have the funeral. Arranged for the military burial and the 21-gun salute and everything. She cried again during the funeral, but it seemed…different that time. It wasn’t desperate or angry, it was just…grief. She was still torn up about it, but she’d accepted it by then.
“She sort of separated herself from me after that. I think she just needed time alone. But the weird thing is that she didn’t take any time off. She threw herself back into the war, maybe to keep her mind off things. She stopped writing for a while. The next thing I heard about her, she’d been killed in Dead Town. I heard a few stories from the soldiers with her. She was in tears, screaming for them to push back, to drive the Metal Heads out of the city. Telling them they had to kill them all, to prevent any more deaths. They succeeded, eventually, but she died in the process.
“Well, I wasn’t in good shape after Dead Town either. That was where I lost my eye. I was still in the hospital when they told me, but I was the only one left in the family, so I had to make all the arrangements. I pretty much had to do everything from my hospital bed. Telling them I wanted the tombstone cut from the same rock as my Dad’s, and I ordered another one too, that big one at the back.
I was out of bed by the time they were ready to bury her. Half my head was bandaged, and I was supposed to be on painkillers, but I didn’t take any because I wanted to remember everything. I stood off on my own, apart from the soldiers that had served with her. It was like I was watching everything I had left to live for, being lowered into the ground.
“Honestly, I was at a loss after that,” Zrion admitted. “For a while, I thought I’d even get my own grave in the same spot before long. If I hadn’t been selected for Special Operations training, I wouldn’t have known what to do. I wouldn’t have even been a Guard anymore because of my eye. Special Operations said they’d work around it, that soldier of my talents would be worth the handicap. I guess they were right, but even so…”
He trailed off. “Sorry I talked so much,” he said sheepishly. “I got a bit carried away…But I guess you got what you asked for, anyway.”
“It’s okay Zrion,” Monica said quietly. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears herself. “They sounded like really good people…I’m sorry they’re gone.”
“Yeah…me too,” Zrion said somberly. He had been reluctant to bring Monica along at first, but now he was glad he did. This was a pain that they could share, as they had both suffered the same loss, to the same creatures. They handled it in different ways, but the pain of the injury was the same.
After a few more minutes, Zrion spoke up again. “We should get back,” he said. “It’s…been long enough.”
Monica nodded, and the two walked in silence, back over the stream, and toward the city proper. Before they got there though, Monica spoke up again. “Um…Zrion?” she queried.
Zrion looked at her inquisitively.
“How often do you do this?”
“Once or twice a year, usually…why?”
“Can I come with you again, next time?” she asked timidly. “You…just looked so sad and I thought…Maybe you’d want the company.”
For the longest time, Zrion just looked at her, almost disbelieving. He had thought that, if anything, Monica would have wanted to avoid doing this again, if only to avoid reminders of her own loss. But instead, she was offering to accompany him again. A shoulder to lean on.
“You know…” Zrion spoke. “I think I’d like that very much.”
