The Great War: Chapter 57
A child in danger
Ishtar wrings her hands anxiously, her gaze down at the ground. Her braid is loose and messy, and her ribbon is tied haphazardly, all due to the fact that she did it herself. With Ezra having done it for her for so long, she’s out of practice.
Isaac doesn’t need to read her mind to know most of this, even if he could somehow stop himself from doing so. But concentrating on a single mind makes walking through the crowded streets of Ica much more bearable. He can’t help himself.
Anya is with them, too, just as worried-looking as Ishtar. As much as Mathew’s assured safety from the Guardians has allowed her to finally relax and find some hope again in her life, she’s upset that he’s going right back to getting involved with the war. The fear of her family being reduced to only her is still present at the forefront of her thoughts.
None of them have spoken much since they left the encampment. It’s loud all around them as they pass through the city’s market; they’d practically have to shout to be heard. With any luck, the docks will be somewhat quieter.
Ishtar is worried about her brother as much as Anya is, though for different reasons. She always is, but now even more so. Her family never involved themselves in conflicts of any kind, always keeping their heads down and doing their jobs dutifully. As much as she tries not to think about Ezra going out to fight, sometimes a scene pops into her mind of some being telling her the sad news of his death.
And here Isaac is, stuck in the middle of these similar yet entirely different emotions and dilemmas, hesitant to say anything. What would he say to them? And how would they react to the news that he’s been listening to their thoughts whenever he’s around them?
He has thought about the war, too. He’s been struggling with his thoughts and feelings towards eventually becoming a General. Some moments, he resents the king and the Spirit. Others, he’s curious as to how he would put himself and his unique ability to use, and almost eager or impatient to be recruited. Of course, all of this is assuming that he is who the Spirit wants, of which there is no doubt in his mind that he is, in fact, the one. Already he’s been acquainted with four of the Generals and their families in some way. If all of that is not the result of some sort of Divine intervention, then he doesn’t know what to say.
The crowd eventually breaks, and the three spill out of the market and onto the long boardwalk along the island’s border between land and ocean. The crowd is less dense here, though not by much. At least there is some room to breathe and be heard here.
Boats bob up and down in the water, through this cycle there appears to be much more activity than usual. Many more ships appear to be undergoing preparations to set sail as beings swing around on ropes, hammer down nails, and carry heavy crates on board. Curious…
They drift down to the edge of the street, where the stone gives way to wood and then, eventually, water, where the least amount of beings walk. Chatter, screams, laughs, tears, and shouts fill the air behind them, whereas in front of them comes the calm lapping of waves, creaking of anchored ships, and the back-breaking work of the sailors.
Ishtar takes a deep breath, taking in the salty air. “You know, I had never been on a boat before until we came here.” In fact, Ishtar hardly ever visited the docks before her family fled from Mirage. There were few places she went beyond her home and the Library. The ocean is a marvel for her.
Anya smiles sadly. “My family used to own a boat, but… we sold it.” From what Anya remembers, it was costing them too much keeping the boat around, so they sold it a few years after Ingum had been born. As much as she loved the family boat, she never liked needing to clean the place top to bottom every couple of cycles. Her only regret about the boat is that Ingum and Mathew didn’t get to make as many memories on it like she had. Especially Mathew.
The girls turn their gazes to Isaac, wondering if he is going to make a comment about boats. Talking about boats is better than worrying about their brothers, after all.
“I had a good view of the port,” Isaac answers. “I liked to watch the ships come and go sometimes. But I’m like Ishtar; I never actually went on one until…” As much as he didn’t want the memory of that night popping into his mind, it does so anyway, catching him off guard. Time seems to stop as the moment seizes control of him. Silence roars in his ears. It was only a brief moment - the confusion, the shouting, the fear - but it felt like it lingered for an eternity.
Is it funny, or sad, or disrespectful, that he’s not thought much about his parents until now? Does that make him a horrible son?
Despite his lack of compulsion to cry, tears still spring to his eyes, blurring his vision. He doesn’t understand why and finds it slightly annoying, but he also can’t bring himself to stop them.
The other two are quiet, but he can sense their unspoken sympathy. Their minds feel impossibly distant, though the only word they can even think to produce is a very sad Oh…
He wipes his eyes quickly, saying in a flat voice, “I’m fine. Sorry.”
With his words, the world comes back into focus. The drone of the crowd presses against his head as his heart leaps in his chest. The water below swirls calmly.
He searches for something to distract himself with, wanting to take his mind off of that night as fast as possible. He turns his attention to the ocean of beings milling about behind him and finds an ocean of trivial troubles. Some are starving. Some are concerned about the economy. Fair enough, he nods ever so slightly. Some try not to think about the war yet fail in doing so. Some are simply going about their cycle with little thoughts all around. Oh, how he wishes he were them.
But then one mind draws his attention. Emotions are high, and so is distress. Isaac can’t help but turn around to look at the being emitting such a powerful cry for help.
He sees a girl, kicking and screaming, slung over a burly man’s shoulder. She pounds her tiny, delicate fists against the man’s shoulder, her feet digging into the man’s unflinching chest. To any other being, the scene might look like some father transporting his unruly daughter.
On the contrary, the girl doesn’t know this man. It all happened so fast; how one moment she was playing hide-and-seek amidst some crates, and the next she was lifted into the air and hauled away right under every being’s nose.
The girl’s name is Anora. In her mind, her real father’s face flashes in and out amidst her blind panic. Captain Edwin.
Stars above, he must be in a panic right now, too.
Isaac’s magic swirls inside him as he wills it forward, golden light that only he can see drifting through the air. Just out of the kidnapper’s sight, the threads spin together a figure that steps out into his path, stopping the man in his tracks.
“Let my daughter go,” the Captain demands with a dark glower.
Isaac has only made small- and medium-sized inanimate objects up until now. This is his first time weaving together the illusion of an actual being from memory. But what else was he going to do? Stand up to the man himself? Wait for the real Captain to come along?
The illusion isn’t even a perfect one. He has to really concentrate on the image and voice of the Captain, otherwise the illusion shimmers and shifts to fit whatever he has in his mind’s eye. The alterations are all so very slight, but far from the actual point. So long as the kidnapper believes that it truly is the Captain standing before him, then there shouldn’t be much problem at all.
It’s also an odd sensation, controlling such a lifelike illusion. Each movement, each sensation, everything it can see and hear, Isaac experiences as well. He is both standing perfectly still, spectating off to the side, and also directly participating in the situation itself. This split vision is quickly starting to give him a headache.
The kidnapper says something back to the illusion with a snarky smile, though Isaac doesn’t hear it above all the noise in his ears and in his mind. Anora twists and turns in the man’s grip, tears streaming down her face. Her loud thrashing is starting to draw attention. Heads turn to check on the distressed child, giving the three beings a wide berth.
The kidnapper is looking for a way out. He’s not scared per se, but certainly taken aback by the Captain’s sudden appearance. How could that aging sailor move so quickly? He thought he had plenty of time to scoop the kid and disappear before the Captain ever noticed her gone. A quick jab might knock him out quickly, though…
The kidnapper puts a foot forward, but Edwin - Isaac - is already reacting to the man’s plan. He sends a fist flying into the man’s throat before he can even raise his free arm. The kidnapper’s eyes widen with shock as he begins to topple backwards from the sheer force and pain. Anora lets out an ear-piercing shriek of terror.
The illusion wraps his arms around the young girl and scoops her up from the kidnapper’s weak grasp. She starts to kick and scream even more, but that soon fades once she realizes she’s in the arms of her supposed father. Slowly, the illusion lowers her to the ground, where she stumbles and stands unsteadily. Tears continue to fall from her eyes and snot drips from her nose. Her blond hair is wild and messy. Her clothes are cuffed. But, thankfully, she’s not hurt.
As for the kidnapper, he’s far from being okay. He lies on the ground gasping for air, gesturing to his neck as he rolls around. He can’t breathe.
The illusion pops, fading away in front of every being in sight, all except for Anora, who is facing away from where the illusion stood. Isaac can almost feel his own throat closing up at he watches the criminal writhe, slowly dying where he dropped, the color in his skin flushing and gradually turning a strange blue.
Dying…
“He needs a healer,” Isaac mutters through his shock.
Ishtar turns to him in an instant, her mind in a panic. “What?”
But Isaac doesn’t reply. He reaches out for something stable to hold on to - that thing turning out to be Anya’s arm - to keep himself from falling over. The world starts to spin as cries for a healer begin to ring out through the air. The crowd kicks itself up into a frenzy at the sight of the dying man. Standing nearby, all alone, is Anora, desperately looking around in an attempt find her father once more. Her distressed cries go unanswered as she spins in place.
All the while, just off to the side, Isaac stares on in shock.
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