Stolen Hearts; Chapter Nineteen

Simon had dad enough, enough of this, whatever this was. It was too much. Everything was in ruins and if he didn’t pick up the pieces soon Simon reckoned he’d be in his coffin a lot sooner than he planned. Luke spent more and more hours of the day disappearing without good reason, never before had Conner been unaccountable over a girl and Simon missed James so much the thought of his absence blistered between his chests like raw heat that marred more when rubbed.

Simon knew James’s business was important though. He’d be spending every waking moment blocking and sealing tight all passageways into the White Nation from Black land in preparation for the coming attack. It seemed the Government was not as oblivious as it had led on.

He rolled his shoulders to dislodge the discomfort between their blades at the thought of James at the beck and call of the White Nation. He was useful to them but the White’s held little loyalties to its soldiers in Simon’s opinion and with an unrivalled bitterness he acknowledged how little Sir Oswald would hesitate to send his best friend to the front line.
Off in the distance the tower bell rung with a bass tremor that reverberated through the stone walls momentarily encompassing the already hushed gait of Simon's foot fall as he glided through the hollow corridors. He frowned boyishly, unimpressed with the lack of activity throughout the castle and scornfully thought of their mousey countenance.

"Is this really necessary?" Luke drew up wilily out of a branching corridor to fall into step with Simon his beat slightly behind. Simon looked straight on and nodded his answer. He liked Luke because he’d always had his head in the right place, he supported everyone and he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Simon's jaw clenched in concern as he heard the boy grunt by his left shoulder, and he thought of all the reasons why now was probably the worst time for Luke to have an attitude change. He let it slide though, Luke was his friend and although lately he was leaving the term something to be desired, Simon was not about to make an issue of it.
They advanced upon a pair of the castles characteristically heavy oak doors and neither broke stride as Simon's hand twitched while the great doors slammed rapidly open, banging noisily against the walls in humbled complaint. His mood thundered silently still.

"I suppose that was necessary too?" Luke muttered grudgingly.

"Yes," Simon's voice was bland, he would have liked to have snapped but one side glance at a boy he counted brother warned him to ease up; he wasn’t the only one having a hard time.

They slid down the stairs as a pair now and targeted the towered willow. Beneath which sat a lone figure, a comfortable sight for the two boys and promptly Luke teleported ahead to Conner’s side. Slightly caught out Simon blinked for a heartbeat then copied. Conner's face glowed like a rocking pendulum in the escaping sun, dazzling at times but flashing dull at others.

Simon smiled heartily, knocking fists gently in greeting and took his place beside Conner in the warm but dewy grass. Luke took his place opposite and nodded his head in silent greeting, smiling slightly for the first time in a while. Conner's mouth hooked as he squinted in the wind and turned between the two new companions.

"What’s this about then?" He asked finally, guilt tinted for he realised how he’d never been so out of touch with two of the boys he also counted kin.

"We need to talk," Simon sighed genuinely, feeling in a rush all the grief and worry and even heartache he had slung on his back like a water sack from his friends, his dealings and Cala, whoosh like a wave off himself and seep into the ground around him. He depended on his friends more than he would have liked but Simon rationed their friendship was well worth the price.

"Doesn’t feel right without James," Conner replied, Luke lifted his head back to eye-level for it had dropped slightly and glanced at the empty space between himself and Simon where James would usually sit.

"No it doesn’t," Simon agreed, secretly glad he wasn’t the only one feeling the strain of James’s absence. Luke stayed silent, his shoulders heavier maybe than even Simon's but nodded slowly in agreement.

Simon felt it, Luke blinked unreadable for once and Conner continued to gaze at Simon for whatever was to come next.

"Morning boys!" The indisputable cheer in the voice was so heartfelt all three grinned before they could even recognise the characteristic voice of James or see the flash of canary yellow as a holographic screen flickered open between Conner and Luke.

James’s mane was a tousled and matted mixture of dirty blonde and violent shades of brown grit. Deep trenches hung under his dim burning amber eyes and slash marks laughed their destruction across his torso and arms. His resilient bright ivory teeth shone out stunningly through all the grime and his joy was apparent despite the forlorn appearance.

"James!" All three replied in equal enjoyment. They glowed for a minuet, four suns in an enclosing universe.

"Missed you lads," James chuckled. Simon watched as everyone unconsciously but visibly relaxed, when they were together each knew they had something going for them and it was soothing. Concern for James’s physical appearance however soon set in.

"You look terrible," Luke said frankly.

Simon watched as James tried to hide his astonishment and went through the same thought process he had a few minuets earlier over Luke’s apparent negative attitude. James ruffled his hair and smiled amiably as dried dirt skittered over his shoulders like little pellets.

He shrugged off Luke’s tone and replied "Looks worse than it is mate,"

"You’re meeting some heavy Black Nation resistance on the trails then?" Simon asked.

James shifted uneasily on his feet "Every possible way into this place from their side was covered. Sentinels at absolutely every single ruddy one," James’s laborious breathing betrayed his condition but he took no notice and shot a quick three hundred and sixty degree glance around himself before continuing "We’ve been on the move continually. No F’ing stops what so ever, some of the soldiers with me can’t even cut it; we’ve had to leave some behind to be picked up by scouts later,"

To be shot later more like. Simon marvelled at how naïve James was for someone who lived through so much.

"The General in charge here says we’re on scout duty now, looking out for the first wave of Black soldiers and all that,"

"But," Conner stuttered "You’re coming back here aren’t you? You’re not joining in the fighting already are you?"

James flashed a reassuring smile "I told the general to stuff it; I’m leaving in the next few days to get back,"

James nodded gravely at Simon.
"Not that it’s not great to hear from you James but this update can’t be the only reason we’re all here," Luke said.
James frowned "Simon," he said gravely "Every passageway is sealed now. You know what that means,"

Simon nodded with the same enormity and Conner scrunched up in bewilderment.
"The White Nation’s funneling them through the one remaining gap," Simon said heavily.
Conner frowned for a four beat count before gasping in horror.

"They can’t," He rasped looking back and forth between Simon and James for confirmation of his fears. "They’re sending them here?"

Luke raised his chin in what Simon hopped to high heaven was positive defiance. Conner heaved atmospheres of fright, automatic hatred and uneasy concern.

"They can, they are…they have," James muttered guiltily. The tag ‘they’ so securely pinned to his forehead Simon swore it was the reason for the fresh stream of blood trailing down his brow.

"James they would of done it with or without your help," Simon held his eyes gently, securely like a thirsty child cupping the water between his fingers lest it fall away.

"Simon," James gulped dryly his gaze seeming to reach out of the screen and grab him by the scruff of the neck as if for balance. "I’ve never cared to ask before but you recognize things most guys shouldn’t and now’s the time I’ve got to ask, will you tell us what you know?"

Eyes widening slightly Simon sat up a little straighter "Of course I will mate," He tugged a long blade of grass out of the field and looked out past the old willow into the depths of the forest, squinting as wind blew into his eyes blurring his vision.

"They’ll be here in three days. First wave of three battalions, one thousand strong each at least. They’re expecting it to be a walk through and I don’t even want to imagine the size of the second wave,"

"Tree days!" James chocked swallowing the black information. "Simon!" he gasped, eye’s night-creature-wide and full of dismay "I’m far East, just outside Carlsada,"
Simon recoiled shaking his head.

"What is it?" Conner asked.
"James you got to get here now!" Simon barked, worry lines breaching the coolness of his face for once.

"Why? What’s going on?" Conner whimpered.

Simon held James as James held Simon, through air like mirrored glass their faces met in the fiercest, warmest, cub-like grip. They could see their own hopes and fears lain plainly beside the others, exposed at the throat.

"Carlsada is four days away," Luke stabbed bruising the three boys.
James shifted while Conner took less than a second to catch up.

"James you’re not going to make it," his jaw ballooned to the floor sagging like a chewed up toy with a fresh new puncture hole.

James shook his head vigorously "No," said simply rejecting the thought. Simon lifted slowly, muscles relaxing into trust.

James turned in the screen to yell at passing soldiers and the three boys watched with respect as the armed forces obeyed his commands and immediately took to packing up. One eleven year old handed him a damp cloth and James wiped his face of the blood and dirt, exposing his wounds but livening his skin with a slapped colour.

"It’ll be close lads but I’ll be there. I swear it to each of you. I will be there for you,"
The four boys sat soaking up the tension as figures shuffled in the background of James’s screen. Luke glanced at his watch then at the floor, frowning in concern before looking up boldly to meet Simon who held an air of both detached cool emotion and an anxious yearn.
"Si-," Conner was cut short.

B-O-O-M…

*
Cala glared hard over the treetops as the wind sunk its teeth into her cheeks and whipped her hair through violent twists and turns about her face. The pit of her stomach strained while her corpse fingers gripped the slate tiles beneath her frigidly. Sat atop one of the castle tower roofs she could see a world, past and future.

Even to her the Black Nation forests looked daunting in the dawn light, its branches reaching, clawing forward to personally claim her. She would have liked to cry right then, alone up on the roof in the morning seemed like as good a time as any.

But tears won’t fall for me. She thought indignantly. Thinking it strange she should even want to cry but knowing she’d do almost anything to get rid of the lump in her throat, the salt water building up behind the long lashes, burning for too many years now.

Not even when she twisted the knife in her chest called Simon, although that hurt like hell itself. She’d admit it, if only to herself, he had more of her heart already than she ever thought possible.

"Ass," she muttered through the wind which threw it appropriately back in her face. Empty insults didn’t carry.

"What do you want from me?" she whispered to the morning as she scrunched up her face in inexpressible stress.

"What the hell do you want me to do?" She screamed, going against all training and self control, she screamed her heart out but the gale of winds consumed her words, chomping its teeth into each syllable. She heard nothing of her own scream, absolutely nothing, as if her one outburst had been erased. As if she’d never lost control and the world would believe it, secrets trapped forever in the wind.

"I can’t do this on my own," she whispered again, the gusts allowed it to carry, familiar with the common frequency. Her chest heaved and caved in emptiness. Through the cloud ceiling thin beams of sunshine occasionally managed to break through and brush across her bare toes and cheeks or the field below her with the sloping elderly willow.

Cala lifted her chin up in natural defiance against the world, it was who she was.
"Can feel it coming in the air," she commented and licked the tightness off her lips. "Fine," she squared her shoulders, building walls and bridges and cities of defenses for what was coming.

She looked to the east, out there James was closing entrances thinking the White Nation could slow Xandu’s army down. Cala shook her own head, what James didn’t know was that the Black Nation had been planning an attack on this school for years, now they had the perfect opportunity. Even the White’s had decided to funnel the soldiers this way.
"This castle can’t fall," she murmured not knowing whether Ruffelm intended to stay and fight or retreat from such a large threat.

She had a plan, over the past weeks she’d been building on it. She wanted to run down the White Nation government and scatter the populations in large cities both White and Black. Xandu would have to fall as well and the Rebels would have to be forced to disband.
If enough chaos reigned down on Mebenna and people were required to mix smaller communities would form. Communities would soon form states and that’s where Cala would make sure they didn’t grow any further. States could be watched over; Nations were a law unto themselves.
Each state could have its own laws and in return would follow only two rules. No expanding and open boarders.

The wind picked up again, howling in her face but lifting her up at the same time. Cala smiled, she had her footing. Down below there was a discordant bang that carried throughout the castle brashly.

She leaned forward over the tile rimmed roof to get a better look at what was going on. A crack sounded out sharp like a dogs fangs catching air, followed shortly by another more reserved but just as deadly crack.
There!

Underneath the willow’s tendrils Cala caught sight of the movement, two figures had just transported next to another sat cross-legged against the trunk which she hadn’t noticed. Like a jigsaw they each sat, fitting naturally into place beside each other. It wasn’t even worth guessing, Simon, Luke and Conner had become so distinguishable lately that even in the bustling corridors she could have spotted them.

Cala listened to the stillness of the castle, the uneasiness of it, like all two thousand students were holding their breath. Bustling corridors weren’t something the castle held much of recently, especially on a weekend when there were no lessons to drag your feet to.
She sat still watching the three boys who looked to be in deep conversation for fifteen minuets or so. The leaves on the trees bristled as the breeze flushed through them. Cala shivered and looked around across the grounds, the whole castle was simply hibernating, the odd couple staggered bewilderingly across the lawns before hurrying back indoors and scurrying up to their rooms.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as Cala’s body suddenly jerked into a stand without command, feet apart shoulders squared and eyes screaming wide.

B-O-O-M…

She felt the tattooed mark across her back pulsate to the reverberations of the drum pound; it tingled and sparked across her back like licking flames.

Cala growled as she realized the energy in her tattoo as was still chain linked to the Black Nation. Ashen Black clouds rolled up over the tree line and loomed slowly towards the castle from a distance. She stood and calculated how long it would take the encompassing rising smoke to throw its choking net over the castle.

"Three days…" she murmured.
Sharply feeling eyes fix on her position she snapped her stare down to clash eyes with Simon. She thought how clearly she must stand out stood blatantly atop the castle tower roof. Cautiously she examined his expression, she saw the same recognition of what was to come and cool concern covering unsettling thoughts but his face softened in the diminishing light. Those sunrays that had managed to gleam through the cloudy morning were slowly being conquered by the advancing barrage of smoke coming from great fire pits in the Black Nation.

You know they’re coming here. She nudged tentatively into a nook of his mind; she stiffened slightly, being in this small outward section of his mind felt like being in the waiting room for an ice sauna.

I know. He replied in a reluctant rush breathlessly.
She hovered there in his consciousness for a few tense stoked moments. Unaware Conner and Luke were looking up towards her now as well, all three of them with different looks of hunger. Suddenly Cala felt like a piece of prime steak in the middle of a pack of starving hounds.

What are you going to do? Run? Simon’s words felt like a muzzled version of something much harsher swelling with apprehension.

I’m going to fight. She stared him down, challenging him to slander her choice or to call her liar. Cala felt him ruffle his thoughts warmly and a small smile padded its way around the corners of his mouth.

You won’t be alone. I promise. Simon’s words soothed evening sunsets and Cala gasped at the intensity of passion behind his words. She melted into what parts of his mind she could seep through, flowing deeper her back pulsed once more as the vibrations from the war drum finally faded away and she blacked out.

Getting there slowly sorry for the wait guys. I will get back into the swing. New boyfriend and just started sixthform has kind of slowed me down as well.
Lullabyes xx