Unerasable Sin

  A familiar feeling of déjà vu washed over her when she woke up. The dark shadows of trees loomed over her, and she could feel her classmates around her.

  Something was wrong.

  “You’re awake.”

  She sat up and swiveled her head to her side, expecting to see a hooded hallucination but meeting the gaze of her classmate instead.

  “It’s okay, we’re here.”

  Coarse, warm hands gently lowered her raised hands. The shadow shuffled closer and wrapped their arms around her torso, infecting her with their warmth.

  “How long was I gone?” she whispered, voice still hoarse from the lingering poison.

  “Just a day.” Theo breathed in and out slowly, face buried in her chest as he clung onto her. “Just a day.”

  “Did I…did I die?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t there.”

  Faris’s words came back to her, and she felt a chill run up her spine.

  “Kor?”

  “She said you collapsed. She panicked and called us all over because she couldn’t find a pulse, and the professors came running, too. She said she administered you something you told her to.”

  In the distance, she heard the same unsettling noise that had woken her up.

  “Did you hear that?” she whispered, placing her hands on Theo and gently pushing him away. Something was wrong—something was definitely wrong.

  Theo leaned back and picked up a bag, rifling through it as he answered her. “They’re expecting a conflict tonight. They’ve been expecting it for days now, apparently. Some must still be awake and on guard.”

  “That’s…that’s not what it is.” She looked around, noticing that a few others were awake and staring at her. “I need to check. We need to check. In case it’s dangerous.”

  About to stand up, a firm hand tried to stop her. “No, you’re staying here until I clear you. Besides, I still don’t know what Kor gave you, and for all I know, I could be giving you something that could completely counteract it.”

  Ty deflected his hand and held out hers instead. “You won’t, and I’m not going to sit around recovering when there could be a threat out there. Now, if you’re going to make me take something, give it to me now so I can do it while I investigate. You stay on guard here.”

  The physician begrudgingly placed two vials in her hand, holding his tongue until he watched her almost stumble over herself. “Cyril,” he groaned, words half-angry, half-concerned. “Cyril, go with her in case she hurts herself again. Fuck.”

  Meanwhile, Ty was trying to get closer to the sound. Her body still felt like it was on fire, and her shaky legs were inconveniencing, but if this was a situation similar to what had happened last time…everyone needed every ounce of her power.

  “Where are you going?” spoke a gentle voice that fell in step beside her.

  “Something’s wrong,” she whispered as she walked, uncorking both of Theo’s vials and downing the salty liquid.

  “This is the way to the other group,” he mentioned casually to her as they kept walking through the trees, Ty leading the way even though her head was pounding and she had no idea where she was going.

  There it was again, that rustling sound. Almost…almost like a scratching noise.

  “Don’t you hear that?” she whispered, stopping.

  Cyril took a moment to respond, listening to the darkness. “Actually, yes, I do. What is that? It sounds like…it sounds like a small child. Like…someone crying?”

  Ty paused. Having almost died must have dulled her senses. “You said this is the way to the other camp?”

  “Yes, that light up front. Maybe they heard it, too?”

  Suddenly feeling cold, Ty promptly continued making her way forward, trying to make as little noise as possible.

  About five steps away from the light, a shadow emerged.

  “Hey, you two.”

  “Yes?” responded Ty without delay, continuing to walk toward the light—what did she have to fear from someone who could speak the common tongue?

  A cloaked sorcerer, who looked at least five years her senior, faced her sternly. “You and your class should be up north. This is our area.”

  “I heard a sound.” She could hear it as she spoke. It came past the small light, past the stranger standing in her way.

  The officer stepped back, sizing up the unwavering tactician. “Want to fight? I hear you’re good at what you do—when you’re not sleeping, that is.”

  Annoyed, but not enough to talk back or vindicate herself, Ty swallowed her words and nodded. “Yes, I’d like to see what it is.”

  Their now-guide waved to another cloaked shadow past the camp before telling the two students to follow. “I’ll take you there. Just be quiet. It’s likely a decoy, anyway.”

  Doing a double take to make sure Cyril was still with her as she walked at the heels of the stranger, she could confirm now that they were a sorcerer. They had three tomes on them—one in each pocket, and one at their side. Their cloak had no markings on it and was standard MATS wear. They must have been patrolling for a long time, because not only were their boots heavily scratched, but they walked with an almost imperceptible limp.

  “How long have you been stationed here?” she inquired as she looked around at the dimly lit camp they had set up—with the campfire wood and miscellaneous items strewn all over the ground, she wouldn’t have been surprised if it was over half a month.

  Expertly stepping around the mess, they scoffed quietly before answering. “We’ve been here for almost an entire month. Hopefully your arrival will raise some flags for the enemies and speed things up.”

  “Any fights, injuries so far?” piped up the healer seriously.

  Their guide cryptically shrugged their shoulders and seemed like they were about to say something when they heard the sound again, louder this time.

  Cyril was right. Whatever the sound was, it sounded far more human than whatever nightmares her imagination had conjured up in her delirium.

  Not finishing their sentence, but quickly continuing forward, the official walked up to two other shadows standing at the other end of their camp. It faced south—toward the all-important back roads.

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  “Who is it?” they asked the other two.

  One shadow loftily replied, “Some kids. Don’t know what they’re doing; maybe they’re distractions. Eve’s got eyes all over, and there’s no sign of anyone within our radius.”

  “So, another false alarm?”

  “Should we dispatch them?” asked the other unfamiliar shadow in a frigid tone.

  The first shadow turned around and, looking straight past their teammate, spoke to the two new students that had appeared. “You two want a look?”

  Ty and Cyril locked eyes, barely able to distinguish each other’s features in the darkness.

  Three long seconds later, he nodded slowly.

  “Sure,” she said aloud before she even turned her head around, trying to read the darkness before walking up between the two shadows.

  “We should dispatch them,” repeated the second shadow, somehow even colder this time as Ty spotted the two small sources of the noise.

  They emitted no auras. Far in the distance, in the middle of the forest, the figure of a youth not much taller than herself or Theo clutched a singular, small light close to them. A smaller figure was on their back, half-whining, half-weeping. The figure holding the light was stumbling around, trying to wade through the dense thicket. Pleading, begging for help. They must have heard some noise or seen some light despite the barrier—after being stationed here for so long, there was no way suspicion hadn’t been raised.

  “Eve, say something—these noises are fucking pissing me off,” hissed the shadow on the other side of them, to the right of Cyril.

  “They’re kids.”

  All four heads turned to Cyril.

  Again, the children’s begs pierced the night.

  Help, please help, mocked one of her voices.

  She’s going to die. Please help her, echoed the other voice.

  Death always arrives.

  “They’re kids,” repeated Cyril in a whisper. “You can’t kill them. No one else is within radius, it can’t be an ambush. We should help them.”

  “That’s not your call,” snapped their guide from earlier.

  “Eve, some kid is telling me not to kill them, so you better say something,” maintained the impatient one as they uncrossed their arms.

  Meanwhile, Ty could only watch the two. Still stumbling blindly, the older child’s steps now staggers as they kicked the fallen leaves on the ground aside, their long, scraggly hair being ripped off by the low-hanging branches, their skin raw from trying to maneuver through brambles meant to ward off curious passersby. Moving forward despite no answers to their pleas, not knowing that the only one who would answer them now was death.

  Please, please, no one will help us. Please help us. We don’t have anywhere else to go. Please take us. I know you’re there. I can see you. Please.

  “I-I’m going to get them,” announced her healer shakily, despite no orders being issued.

  “You can take care of the bodies,” seethed the icy official from beside Cyril as they put their hands into their pockets and started to turn away, the official to her left following suit.

  Temporarily stunned by the statement, Cyril managed to turn back for only a second before the first syllables of a spell left the lips of the caster behind them.

  “No!” yelled the healer, who turned around, but not before the damning words to the Miasma spell completed.

  Mom…mom, where are you? I’m so scared.

  Ty stood motionless, the voices chased from her mind as she watched the faraway shadows fall, the weight of her sword barely noticeable. She turned to the MATS official behind her. “Even if you had to do it, it didn’t have to be done in such an inhumane way.” She copied the other officer’s indifferent, passive tone.

  Ignoring her words, they didn’t even bother feigning compassion. “Orders are orders. Go on, clean up the bodies.”

  When Ty turned back without another word and walked over to Cyril, who was already beside the children, she could see him staring down at the unmoving bodies.

  “Do you need any help?”

  “No.”

  Standing over the children, she was immediately assaulted with the stench of pus oozing from their fresh wounds. The small light had been put out along with them; she could have been standing in a pool of blood for all she knew, and it would not have shocked her.

  “Do you need a light?”

  “I don’t want one, but I need one to see,” was the healer’s flat reply.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I was seven when I dissected my first body.”

  Silence.

  “No, I’m not going to be okay.”

  After a long sigh escaped her classmate, Ty slowly lifted a hand and conjured up a simple white flame that hung in the air above the children.

  He did not flinch. Only stared down at the bloody bodies lying on the ground in fetal position, their wounds weeping with whatever infections and burdens they had already been carrying. Their eyes were bulging out of their sockets, foamy drool freely flowing past yellowed and decayed teeth, mixing with the sandy ground underneath them to create a dark sludge.

  “They’re kids. Who kills defenseless kids?”

  The smaller child who had been crying was barely wearing anything, dressed in scraps of brown cloth that looked like they once carried vegetables. Blood seeped out of various cuts all over their body, smeared so liberally she could barely tell what color their skin was under the red. Large, linear welts lined their torso and legs, and their bloodied fingers, some of which were missing nails, were positioned like claws as if still trying to cling to the larger child. What scraps of hair were left on their head were matted and thin, most of their exposed scalp a canvas for even more cuts.

  “Tactician.”

  She shifted her gaze to Cyril.

  Despair.

  “What would cause cuts like these?”

  “Humanity.”

  “Whoever did this does not deserve to be called human.”

  Ty turned her gaze to the older child this time, the one who was slightly shorter than Theo. Like the other child, welts and wounds were scattered across their body, their clothes barely on anymore after having trudged through the forest to find help. Some wounds looked almost black, like they had been festering for more than just a few days, their long and scraggly hair matted with the blood of the smaller one’s hands. The tracks of their tears running to meet the earth reflected off their sole light source.

  “The sooner you accept it, the easier it’ll be,” she heard coming out of her own mouth.

  Cyril stiffly turned his head to face her, not changing his expression in the slightest so it looked like he was seeing a ghost.

  “Accept what?” he asked wondrously, as if issuing a challenge.

  Humanity is—

  “Humanity is a pestilence. They deserve nothing. The sun, the rain, the stars. Ancients. Magic.”

  His challenge falling short, Cyril returned his gaze to the corpses and crouched down. “But that doesn’t mean there’s no good out there. No hope.”

  With no intervention from Ty, who should have stopped her classmate before he could finish the first phrase of his low-level healing spell, Cyril hovered his hand over any cuts that were still bleeding. The black remained black. The stain of humanity’s sins could not be so easily erased.

  Silently, the tactician watched as he performed a traditional, time-consuming corpse cleansing. The healer laid the children side by side first, and then he closed their eyes and mouths before rinsing the blood off the bodies to reveal the sandy, tan skin underneath. After he was done, he took two cloths out of his pack: a larger one to cover the body of the taller child, and a smaller one for the other.

  He stood up with a contorted expression on his face. He swallowed. Inhaled. Exhaled. “If I believed in fate, that this was the Earth Mother’s design, and that they were going to die even if I got involved, that I could not stop this no matter what I did, should I even return them to her?”

  “There is no alternative.”

  He blinked, and his pained expression gradually slid off, replaced with acceptance and passivity. “Then our only god has abandoned us.”

  The phrase that left his mouth, though whispered and as soft as the cloth that he laid on the children, hurt Ty more than she thought it would. Not because she knew the truth, not because she could not divulge what part she had to play, but because it was an impossible task—to rid humanity of all their sins. Return them or not return them, the end would still be the same: they would come back to a world that even the Earth Mother could not save.

  “It’s okay, I won’t abandon us,” he responded to himself quietly as he sat down on the ground soaked with the water he had used to cleanse the bodies.

  “Do you need a moment?”

  “Yeah. I want to keep them company for a while longer.”

  “Is it okay if I take back the light?”

  “Yeah. I’ll meet you at camp.”

  Ty nodded and retracted the spell, sending their surroundings into darkness once again. She turned around, noted a new, hooded shadow she hadn’t seen before standing by the edge of the camp, and then walked up to them without reserve.

  “Your orders?” she asked with a straight face and a cocked head.

  “Don’t lay a hand on my people, and we’re golden,” replied a cool, feminine voice.

  She bit the inside of her lip, holding in the scathing words that she had expected herself to say instinctively. “Anything else?”

  “You want more? Kill when I tell you to, and don’t question my decisions.”

  Silence.

  “That’s what I thought. Now get back to camp. I’ll debrief everyone in the morning.”

  Without spending more time than she needed with the other tactician, Ty traced her steps back to her class, thinking about a whirlwind of things: the caster, the two other officials, the Ancient children—too young to have developed auras, but not young enough to be blind to them—Cyril—everything he said to her, the reason why he was going to stay—Eve.

  Eve.

  What am I, really, if I don’t save them?

  “You’re back. That took a while. Did you find out where the sound was coming from?”

  Ty looked around to make sure the rest of her class was present before nodding steadily at the only other person awake. “Mhm. It was some kids.”

  “Did Eve’s group take care of it?”

  Her eyes finally locked with Theo’s. “Have you spoken with her?”

  He stared back, unwavering. “Yes, because you almost died.”

  “How much do you care about her?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  “You know, if she died.”

  Silence.

  “Not in the slightest.”

  Ty nodded faintly to herself. “Good.”