The floor was soft, but the fragments that lay upon it were sharp and broken, inflicting pain as they scratched and jabbed at his skin. This gave him some relief, an unexpected cure as the pain distracted him from the chaos he was leaving behind.
After long minutes of travel, his body finally failed him at his destination, outside his cave high on the mountain. He could go no further this night, and he threw up, exhausted by the furious running and climbing of rugged terrain.
He had made it. That was all that mattered.
As his eyes closed, he fell onto the cave’s floor and lay motionless, trying to keep up his fight to remain conscious. But just as with his village against the military force, it was a battle he would inevitably lose. There was no more strength to be called upon, no more will to go on. In seconds, he would pass out. A final thought of his family was his last memory of the day that he had lost everything.
Chapter Seven
They eat, they breathe, they exist ... what more?
January 15, 997 R.E.
The Callibrai huddled together in the centre of the tennagen field, prisoners in their own village, captives of war. Even the moon failed to light their world this night, hidden behind thick bands of cloud that soaked the already weeping land and washed the blood and muck from their open wounds. There was light only from the few fires that still burned, allowing them to witness the final destruction of their homes as the giant machines continued to clear the land, making room for the military fort being erected around them.
There was hardly a recognisable thing left. Other than the stream, small areas of vegetation, trees and rock ledges of the Tennagen field, all else had been transformed into a desert-like wasteland, full of clay and mud that covered the shallow graves of the deceased. The field had become as an oasis, the last piece of paradise left.
It had all happened so quickly. The attack that saw their friends and family perish, the earthquake that had ripped the very ground apart, and the merciless tactics the soldiers employed to bring them here. It seemed only moments ago they had been living in peace as they had done for their entire lives, readying for just another quiet night.
And yet now they faced the nightmare authority of those that contained them, clinging to one another for comfort in the cold, while the injured lay dying slowly without the necessary treatment. It was obvious now that this force was of the World Protection Alliance, the rumours now confirmed true, that they were ruthless in their desire to conquer the world, rather than their stated purpose of protecting the world.
Some who could not stand this injustice called out to their oppressors, labelling them cowards, murderers and beasts of evil. But their pleas for the needed attention were answered with the strictest of disciplines, often ending in brutal beatings or even immediate execution. The soldiers had shown they had little feeling for the people, and not a single voice dared cry out after several of their kin had fallen lifeless.
The Callibrai sat in silence, awaiting their final judgement. Few eyes were brave enough to rise to the man in black uniform and cape that passed by them. His language and accent were foreign, but the control in his voice among such hardship showed his power. He was the commander of this army, General Alkon Zaccarah of the nation Ordear, a man who stood over six feet, with hair so dark that it seemed to disappear over his shoulders as it rested against his clothes. His nose was hooked and his eyes sunken under downward curving brows, hiding any emotion he may have felt, while his powerful jaw clenched with each word, shaded only by the finely trimmed beard that joined with a small moustache above his curling lip.
‘What you are about to see is not to go beyond this camp.’
The man he spoke to was half a step behind and known as Lieutenant-General Liet Revarn of Xosuh. He was a thinner, lesser man than Alkon, who wore his sandy blonde hair short, and his slim-framed glasses low on his nose. His appearance lacked the authority he held. It had been through his bravery and sharp wit amidst the heat of battle that he had been able to earn the respect of his superiors and men alike. Had it not been for Alkon’s brilliance in strategy, Liet would have been the man in charge, and although resenting this slightly, he was in quiet awe of the general.
‘As you wish, General,’ Liet’s tone was cold and logical, as if more machine than man, ‘but what is it that you have to show me?’
‘A project. It has been held in secrecy. Only the scientists and I know of its making.’
Liet was thoughtful. ‘You have withheld information from our Council?’
Alkon did not turn to face him. ‘When you see what I have to show you, you will understand.’
The two walked out of range of the Callibrai toward where some single-level, dark green buildings had already been constructed. Unarmed soldiers continued to work, coming to attention only momentarily as their commanders walked by them.