Post by Charcoal on Apr 16, 2020 6:58:03 GMT -5
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Word Count - 3091/3091
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“You rely on your semblance far too much, Kodaal. It shows in your aim.”
The deep, commanding voice of Ashton Hearth rang through the bustling warehouse as he looked down, brow furrowed, towards his son. Kodaal Hearth kept his gaze on the floor as his father spoke to him. Secluded in a far-off corner of the moderately sized warehouse, the pair had been firing silenced pistols down a shoddily made firing range for the past hour or so. It’d become almost a daily ritual for the father-son duo ever since Kodaal’s work had taken a turn towards more… delicate matters. Ashton was a veteran from the Great War, and had done what he could to keep the violence he’d experienced out of the household. When it seemed that’d be impossible, though, he’d done his best to make sure his son was prepared for what awaited him.
Kodaal could only nod in response to his father’s stern statement. He was right, after all. Kodaal had never had a reason to rely on anything other than his semblance. It made things easy. Quick. Clean. Untraceable. If he was unable to complete a mission without only his semblance, things were as good as over. Guns could be traced. Blood could be collected. What risks did Kodaal pose when he crawled through a vent, pointed his finger once or twice, and left? His gaze quickly flickered over to a nearby row of seats where his mother, Violet, sat, fussing over a bunny-eared girl that squirmed around trying her hardest to avoid it. He sighed as his gaze remained on the ground. If he had to resort to something as obvious as a gun and ended up leading the cops here, what would happen to them?
Steeling himself, without a word, he turned back to the range and raised his pistol towards the vaguely man shaped target that sat a good few meters away. His hands shook slightly, still anticipating the recoil that firing the gun would bring. Focusing on the target’s chest area, he took a deep, sharp breath before squeezing the trigger three times in quick succession. His arms shifting unsteadily, more out of barely hidden surprise than due to the recoil, two of the bullets impacted the paper target on the edge of the torso, while the third missed it cleanly and was caught by the large, thick tarp behind the target.
A deep sigh that wasn’t Kodaal’s came from his left before a heavy hand clasped his shoulder. “That’s enough for today. We’re not gonna get much further.” Ashton’s once stern voice had calmed and morphed into something kind and soft, though it was still deep. “It’s my fault for not teaching you sooner,” Kodaal’s father frowned as he spoke, “I was stupid to think that we’d stay away from this life for very long.” After a moment, Ashton shook his head, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go see about getting some dinner.”
Before Kodaal could even react, Ashton reached over and pulled Kodaal’s black ball cap down over his eyes. By the time he’d managed to get it back on his head normally, Ashton was nowhere to be seen. “...Hate it when he does that,” Kodaal muttered. It was always a shock. He’d lived nineteen years now, and sinned just as much as any soldier had. But, whenever his dad treated him like a kid, he couldn’t but to, for just a moment, forget everything that he’d done. It seemed wrong, to lose the weight that he carried with him. To feel like a child again.
He didn’t deserve the chance to forget.
“Your hat looks stupid!” Suddenly, a young, light voice squeaked from just before Kodaal. His eyes widening, he turned to look down at where the voice had come from. At its origin stood a short, twelve year old girl with stark white rabbit ears protruding from the middle of her head. Just beyond her, a woman with similar ears watched the two with a small smile on her features.
Kodaal bent down to look his sister in the eyes, an obviously fake expression of annoyance on his features. He stared her in the eyes for a moment, his brow furrowed, before smiling. Bringing his right hand to ruffle her hair playfully, much to her protests, he spoke, his voice light and happy, “Yeah? And what about it, cottontail?”
With all the force of a flea, the girl, Lylah, reached up and took hold of Kodaal’s arm with both of her hands. After no small amount of struggling, she managed to pull it off and look back up at him with a pout. A pout that soon turned into a bright, giggly smile. Kodaal sighed internally, though he dared not let it break his happy exterior, even if he was happy to see his sister. It was just incredibly that such a cute little girl knew so much information that she probably didn’t even really understand.
“Will you look at the stars again with me tonight?” She asked, her expression quickly morphing into one that was exceedingly pleading. Kodaal rolled his eyes. It was a trick he’d seen before. Likely, he’d see it again.
“Sure I will, cottontail,” he said, rolling his eyes again as her pleading expression remained.
She continued to stare up at him. A stare that he matched.
“Promise?”
Kodaal laughed, a true, genuine laugh, one that only Lylah ever seemed able to get out of him anymore. He quickly moved to ruffle her ashen brown hair again, an action that brought back the girl’s pout in full force. “Yes,” he said, still laughing, “Yes, I promise. Soon as the sun sets, I’ll take you up top. Got it?”
Satisfied, Lylah offered Kodaal a broad, bright smile. “Deal!” And with that, she ran off, likely to find another of the few kids that were wandering around the warehouse somewhere. A low pang of anger lit in the bottom of Kodaal’s gut at the thought. It was a familiar feeling, but it was one he could do little about. For a moment, he fantasized about breaking them out, about saving them. The syndicate he’d been a part of for all these years was hardly one that’d been militarized. Very few people in it actually knew how to fight. But was he about to risk the only life he’d ever known by trying to go up against an entire criminal organization? Even if they weren’t trained, Kodaal seriously doubted that he’d be able to make it out alive. And what if he did? Could he guarantee that he’d be leading the children to a life better than the one they now lead? No, he couldn’t. If anything, he’d be leading them to a sad life. A life of starvation. Of pain. One that brought a slow death on the side of a snow-capped sidewalk, looking at everyone that passed you with eyes full of dying hope. Eyes that begged for a morsel of food, of kindness. Eyes that begged for a reason to go on. A reason that would never come. No, there wasn’t anything that Kodaal could offer anyone here except for the same thing that he always had. Saving people was a thought meant for the so-called ‘heroes’ of the world. Not indentured assassins not able to do anything other than kill correctly.
No, it was more likely that the life they were now a part of was leagues better than the one they’d been living before. At least they wouldn’t starve here. At least they weren’t alone.
“Hey, kit. You okay?”
His mother’s soft words broke Kodaal out of his stupor. Eyes wide, he felt moisture on his cheeks. Quickly, he turned away and moved to wipe roughly at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Sniffling quietly, he recomposed himself before turning back to his mother with a small smile. “I’m okay. Just... thinking, y’know?”
Violet smiled sadly at her son, bringing her hand to stroke his cheek. Kodaal didn’t shy away from the touch. A rare occurrence. “You had that look on your face again,” she said, her eyes layered with worry, “I know how you get.” She sighed, tears pooling in her own eyes. She closed them as they threatened to pour out, the bags under her eyes making her seem ages older than she actually was. She was a soft woman. Before her and her husband had fallen on hard times, she’d been a housewife. After the war and everything that came with it ended and they’d been forced out of their home and into the slums, she’d adapted a good bit. But nothing could change the woman that she was at heart.
A tear escaped her eye, but she quickly wiped it away, shook her head, and smiled brightly at her son, despite the wetness around her eyes. “I know you know that your father and I never wanted this for you, and I know you don’t blame us,” she choked back a sob, doing her best from keeping the tears from falling fully. Kodaal hated seeing her like this. She always got this way when she saw him like she just had, even though it had nothing to do with her, “B-But… I’m your mom, kit. And you know I can’t stand it when you think you have to deal with everything alone. So,” she eyed Kodaal directly, making him wince at the rare sternness in her gaze, “I want you to promise me that the next time you’re in your little funk, you’re gonna come and talk to me about it. Got it?”
Kodaal stared at her, wide eyed, for a moment, before breaking out into a fit of laughter. At his sudden outburst, Violet reeled back in shock. “Wh-What? What’s funny?!”
Kodaal wiped a fake tear from his eye, trying his best to keep himself from laughing, “S-Sorry!” he said, taking a deep breath as his laughter finally died down, “I-It’s just… You’re more like cottontail than you know, sometimes.”
Violet stared at her son with wide eyes for a solid thirty seconds before she reached over and hit him lightly over the shoulder, pheux anger in her eyes, ”I said promise me!”
Laughing as he reeled away from her slap, Kodaal rubbed his shoulder tenderly while he rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine!” He sighed, pausing for a long moment. Looking away towards the floor, he continued, “...I promise.”
“Look me in the eye and say it, kit,” Violet said.
Sighing, Kodaal looked up at his mother as best and as genuinely as he could, “I… I promise.”
“Good,” Violet said as she reached out and pulled Kodaal into a deep hug. The thick red scarf she seemed to always wear tickled his chin as he returned the hug. Winter had just started. The air was getting colder. Violet sighed as she hugged her son, a small smile on her lips, “My little kit. Who’d have known that you’d grow up to be so strong.”
The snow was already beginning to fall on Mantle. Through the large glass window on the other side of the building, Kodaal could see that snow had already caked on the top of the neighboring warehouse’s roof. Even a little bit of ice had begun to collect on top of the snow, if the sun glinting off of it was any indication.
“Even stronger than your father,” Violet continued with a laugh. “But don’t let him know I said that. You know how he gets. Thinks he’s gotta be the only pillar in the family.” Her grip around Kodaal tightened ever so slightly, “You’re a lot like him, you know that? I joke about it, but…”
Kodaal’s eyes narrowed. Was ice really that reflective?
“...no matter how strong both of you are…”
In fact, was it even cold enough for ice to stick yet? Sure it was winter, but…
“...you both need to figure out…”
The snow was melting too, wasn’t it? Or, it was shifting at the very least.
“...you don’t have to do anything alone. We’re a family for a reason, you…”
Shifting a lot, actually.
“...know? We share our strength. Understand? That’s what love means…”
And, was that… grey?
“...my little kit. We do things…”
Kodaal’s eyes widened, his muscles tensed, but it was too late.
“...together.”
”Get down!”
As Kodaal pushed forwards as hard as he could, a loud ’bang,’ along with the crisp chorus of shattering glass, rang out through the warehouse.
Kodaal and his mother toppled forwards, out of sight of the window. They landed hard, and Violet let out a pained gasp as they did. Quickly jumping to his feet, Kodaal looked around what little bit of the warhouse he could see that wasn’t obscured by large crates, “Everyone! If you’re okay, get to anyone that isn’t and get to cover! We’re gonna have company!” He yelled out to anyone that could hear him. They wouldn’t just shoot at the warehouse like this without a plan. No, they had to be stupid or they had to be a bigg-
“...Kodaal.”
A weak, near-silent voice broke Kodaal’s whirling thoughts from their vortex. Quickly, Kodaal’s head snapped towards the direction of the voice. His eyes widened, tears springing to them in an instant. “No…”
Violet laid still where she’d landed, blood pooling around her chest, right below where her heart would be. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and a twisted grimace of pain enveloped her features.
Kodaal was by her side in an instant, hands frantically trying to do something, anything to stop the blood from flowing. “No… No! No, no, no, nononononono-” He looked around sharply for cloth, but quickly stopped as he spotted the scarf around his mother’s neck. With a quick motion, he unraveled it and held it to the wound on Violet’s torso. She winced in pain, her breath growing more ragged by the second. Kodaal looked down at her desperately, tears falling freely from his crimson eyes, “Y-You’re gonna be okay, mom! It’s gonna be okay! Dad can-!”
Violet choked out a laugh, her breath hitching wetly as she did so. With a sharp, rattling cough, she spoke. “Shhh… It’s okay, i-it’s gonna be alright. Don’t worry about me.”
What?
What business did she have, telling him that it’d be alright? He wasn’t the one…
Violet smiled up at her son, the light that always seemed to shine in her lilac eyes slowly burning away, like the last embers of a once mighty flame, “How did I get so lucky... I wonder?” she murmured quietly. Reaching up, her blood-stained hand gently clasped the side of Kodaal’s neck. Quickly, Kodaal reached up to support it, “You grew up so big… You know that?” She smiled at him. Brilliant and soft, the kindest, gentlest thing that Kodaal had ever seen. “...My… little…”
And then she was gone. Violet’s hand fell from Kodaal’s neck, leaving it stained a deep, shimmering crimson. The embers in her eyes and smile faded away, and the ashes scattered in the non existent wind. In mere moments, she’d been taken from him.
His hand hovered over where he’d held her hand. He could still feel the warmth on his neck. Could still see the smile in her eyes.
Somewhere distant, he heard a sharp clicking and a voice. He could barely make out the words. ‘Hands up!’ Barely understand what they meant. His fist beginning to clench the scarf in his hand tightly, he turned his head slowly to see three, unfamiliar, uniformed men aiming their guns at him.
No, not unfamiliar.
Atlas Military. The same military that his father had once been a part of.
Kodaal, returned their stares, his eyes deadpan and unfocused. A realization dawned on him. They had done this. It was their doing. The woman that now lie unmoving before him? A man in an Atlas uniform had taken that shot.
She was so kind. So gentle. She hadn’t even had her Aura unlocked.
With a cry of rage that came out as more of a hoarse whimper, Kodaal reached out towards the group with a sharp, sudden motion. In mere moments, three pillars of ashen charcoal sprouted from the ground before the men. In mere moments, they grew sharply and pierced their chests.
With another cry of anguish, Kodaal leapt to his feet, tying the bloodied scarf in his hands around his neck and pulling it up over his mouth. They’d pay for this. Even if it killed him.
Sprinting through the hallways, he ran directly for the door. He was stopped in his tracks, however, as the sounds of fighting filled the area around him. He saw Emerald, in the distance, fall to the ground as Atlesian soldiers surrounded her. Emerald, who cooked for him and his sister every Friday. Omelets with spinach. “Good for your health,” She’d always said.
To her left, he watched Lavay charge towards a trio of soldiers, large fists raised and ready to fight, only to be shot in the back by another pair of soldiers that’d surrounded him. “Always be on your guard,” he’d said, “Never be surprised and you’ll never lose the upper hand.” And now he’d failed to take his own advice.
Kodaal’s world, no matter how much he despised it, was falling around him, and he knew there was little he could do. His prior resolve was fading quickly, and all that remained beyond it was a scared child afraid of the things he’d done.
The image of his mother’s blood flashed through his mind.
With a pitiful roar, he sprinted towards the front of the building.
Pushing through the front doors onto the empty street, he cried out again, loudly, ”Where are you?! Show yourself, you coward!” His voice broke as he screamed, but he didn’t care. He was wide open, but he didn’t care. His father could probably handle whatever came inside, and there’s no way Ashton would let anything happen to Lylah. Right now, Kodaal had only one thing on his mind, as he stared directly at the rooftop across the street.
“Come out! If you’re strong enough to pull the trigger, then you’re strong enough to tell me why!” His voice was hoarse now, barely above a croak. But it was drenched in anguish.
A level of anguish not often heard.
“You rely on your semblance far too much, Kodaal. It shows in your aim.”
The deep, commanding voice of Ashton Hearth rang through the bustling warehouse as he looked down, brow furrowed, towards his son. Kodaal Hearth kept his gaze on the floor as his father spoke to him. Secluded in a far-off corner of the moderately sized warehouse, the pair had been firing silenced pistols down a shoddily made firing range for the past hour or so. It’d become almost a daily ritual for the father-son duo ever since Kodaal’s work had taken a turn towards more… delicate matters. Ashton was a veteran from the Great War, and had done what he could to keep the violence he’d experienced out of the household. When it seemed that’d be impossible, though, he’d done his best to make sure his son was prepared for what awaited him.
Kodaal could only nod in response to his father’s stern statement. He was right, after all. Kodaal had never had a reason to rely on anything other than his semblance. It made things easy. Quick. Clean. Untraceable. If he was unable to complete a mission without only his semblance, things were as good as over. Guns could be traced. Blood could be collected. What risks did Kodaal pose when he crawled through a vent, pointed his finger once or twice, and left? His gaze quickly flickered over to a nearby row of seats where his mother, Violet, sat, fussing over a bunny-eared girl that squirmed around trying her hardest to avoid it. He sighed as his gaze remained on the ground. If he had to resort to something as obvious as a gun and ended up leading the cops here, what would happen to them?
Steeling himself, without a word, he turned back to the range and raised his pistol towards the vaguely man shaped target that sat a good few meters away. His hands shook slightly, still anticipating the recoil that firing the gun would bring. Focusing on the target’s chest area, he took a deep, sharp breath before squeezing the trigger three times in quick succession. His arms shifting unsteadily, more out of barely hidden surprise than due to the recoil, two of the bullets impacted the paper target on the edge of the torso, while the third missed it cleanly and was caught by the large, thick tarp behind the target.
A deep sigh that wasn’t Kodaal’s came from his left before a heavy hand clasped his shoulder. “That’s enough for today. We’re not gonna get much further.” Ashton’s once stern voice had calmed and morphed into something kind and soft, though it was still deep. “It’s my fault for not teaching you sooner,” Kodaal’s father frowned as he spoke, “I was stupid to think that we’d stay away from this life for very long.” After a moment, Ashton shook his head, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna go see about getting some dinner.”
Before Kodaal could even react, Ashton reached over and pulled Kodaal’s black ball cap down over his eyes. By the time he’d managed to get it back on his head normally, Ashton was nowhere to be seen. “...Hate it when he does that,” Kodaal muttered. It was always a shock. He’d lived nineteen years now, and sinned just as much as any soldier had. But, whenever his dad treated him like a kid, he couldn’t but to, for just a moment, forget everything that he’d done. It seemed wrong, to lose the weight that he carried with him. To feel like a child again.
He didn’t deserve the chance to forget.
“Your hat looks stupid!” Suddenly, a young, light voice squeaked from just before Kodaal. His eyes widening, he turned to look down at where the voice had come from. At its origin stood a short, twelve year old girl with stark white rabbit ears protruding from the middle of her head. Just beyond her, a woman with similar ears watched the two with a small smile on her features.
Kodaal bent down to look his sister in the eyes, an obviously fake expression of annoyance on his features. He stared her in the eyes for a moment, his brow furrowed, before smiling. Bringing his right hand to ruffle her hair playfully, much to her protests, he spoke, his voice light and happy, “Yeah? And what about it, cottontail?”
With all the force of a flea, the girl, Lylah, reached up and took hold of Kodaal’s arm with both of her hands. After no small amount of struggling, she managed to pull it off and look back up at him with a pout. A pout that soon turned into a bright, giggly smile. Kodaal sighed internally, though he dared not let it break his happy exterior, even if he was happy to see his sister. It was just incredibly that such a cute little girl knew so much information that she probably didn’t even really understand.
“Will you look at the stars again with me tonight?” She asked, her expression quickly morphing into one that was exceedingly pleading. Kodaal rolled his eyes. It was a trick he’d seen before. Likely, he’d see it again.
“Sure I will, cottontail,” he said, rolling his eyes again as her pleading expression remained.
She continued to stare up at him. A stare that he matched.
“Promise?”
Kodaal laughed, a true, genuine laugh, one that only Lylah ever seemed able to get out of him anymore. He quickly moved to ruffle her ashen brown hair again, an action that brought back the girl’s pout in full force. “Yes,” he said, still laughing, “Yes, I promise. Soon as the sun sets, I’ll take you up top. Got it?”
Satisfied, Lylah offered Kodaal a broad, bright smile. “Deal!” And with that, she ran off, likely to find another of the few kids that were wandering around the warehouse somewhere. A low pang of anger lit in the bottom of Kodaal’s gut at the thought. It was a familiar feeling, but it was one he could do little about. For a moment, he fantasized about breaking them out, about saving them. The syndicate he’d been a part of for all these years was hardly one that’d been militarized. Very few people in it actually knew how to fight. But was he about to risk the only life he’d ever known by trying to go up against an entire criminal organization? Even if they weren’t trained, Kodaal seriously doubted that he’d be able to make it out alive. And what if he did? Could he guarantee that he’d be leading the children to a life better than the one they now lead? No, he couldn’t. If anything, he’d be leading them to a sad life. A life of starvation. Of pain. One that brought a slow death on the side of a snow-capped sidewalk, looking at everyone that passed you with eyes full of dying hope. Eyes that begged for a morsel of food, of kindness. Eyes that begged for a reason to go on. A reason that would never come. No, there wasn’t anything that Kodaal could offer anyone here except for the same thing that he always had. Saving people was a thought meant for the so-called ‘heroes’ of the world. Not indentured assassins not able to do anything other than kill correctly.
No, it was more likely that the life they were now a part of was leagues better than the one they’d been living before. At least they wouldn’t starve here. At least they weren’t alone.
“Hey, kit. You okay?”
His mother’s soft words broke Kodaal out of his stupor. Eyes wide, he felt moisture on his cheeks. Quickly, he turned away and moved to wipe roughly at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. Sniffling quietly, he recomposed himself before turning back to his mother with a small smile. “I’m okay. Just... thinking, y’know?”
Violet smiled sadly at her son, bringing her hand to stroke his cheek. Kodaal didn’t shy away from the touch. A rare occurrence. “You had that look on your face again,” she said, her eyes layered with worry, “I know how you get.” She sighed, tears pooling in her own eyes. She closed them as they threatened to pour out, the bags under her eyes making her seem ages older than she actually was. She was a soft woman. Before her and her husband had fallen on hard times, she’d been a housewife. After the war and everything that came with it ended and they’d been forced out of their home and into the slums, she’d adapted a good bit. But nothing could change the woman that she was at heart.
A tear escaped her eye, but she quickly wiped it away, shook her head, and smiled brightly at her son, despite the wetness around her eyes. “I know you know that your father and I never wanted this for you, and I know you don’t blame us,” she choked back a sob, doing her best from keeping the tears from falling fully. Kodaal hated seeing her like this. She always got this way when she saw him like she just had, even though it had nothing to do with her, “B-But… I’m your mom, kit. And you know I can’t stand it when you think you have to deal with everything alone. So,” she eyed Kodaal directly, making him wince at the rare sternness in her gaze, “I want you to promise me that the next time you’re in your little funk, you’re gonna come and talk to me about it. Got it?”
Kodaal stared at her, wide eyed, for a moment, before breaking out into a fit of laughter. At his sudden outburst, Violet reeled back in shock. “Wh-What? What’s funny?!”
Kodaal wiped a fake tear from his eye, trying his best to keep himself from laughing, “S-Sorry!” he said, taking a deep breath as his laughter finally died down, “I-It’s just… You’re more like cottontail than you know, sometimes.”
Violet stared at her son with wide eyes for a solid thirty seconds before she reached over and hit him lightly over the shoulder, pheux anger in her eyes, ”I said promise me!”
Laughing as he reeled away from her slap, Kodaal rubbed his shoulder tenderly while he rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine!” He sighed, pausing for a long moment. Looking away towards the floor, he continued, “...I promise.”
“Look me in the eye and say it, kit,” Violet said.
Sighing, Kodaal looked up at his mother as best and as genuinely as he could, “I… I promise.”
“Good,” Violet said as she reached out and pulled Kodaal into a deep hug. The thick red scarf she seemed to always wear tickled his chin as he returned the hug. Winter had just started. The air was getting colder. Violet sighed as she hugged her son, a small smile on her lips, “My little kit. Who’d have known that you’d grow up to be so strong.”
The snow was already beginning to fall on Mantle. Through the large glass window on the other side of the building, Kodaal could see that snow had already caked on the top of the neighboring warehouse’s roof. Even a little bit of ice had begun to collect on top of the snow, if the sun glinting off of it was any indication.
“Even stronger than your father,” Violet continued with a laugh. “But don’t let him know I said that. You know how he gets. Thinks he’s gotta be the only pillar in the family.” Her grip around Kodaal tightened ever so slightly, “You’re a lot like him, you know that? I joke about it, but…”
Kodaal’s eyes narrowed. Was ice really that reflective?
“...no matter how strong both of you are…”
In fact, was it even cold enough for ice to stick yet? Sure it was winter, but…
“...you both need to figure out…”
The snow was melting too, wasn’t it? Or, it was shifting at the very least.
“...you don’t have to do anything alone. We’re a family for a reason, you…”
Shifting a lot, actually.
“...know? We share our strength. Understand? That’s what love means…”
And, was that… grey?
“...my little kit. We do things…”
Kodaal’s eyes widened, his muscles tensed, but it was too late.
“...together.”
”Get down!”
As Kodaal pushed forwards as hard as he could, a loud ’bang,’ along with the crisp chorus of shattering glass, rang out through the warehouse.
Kodaal and his mother toppled forwards, out of sight of the window. They landed hard, and Violet let out a pained gasp as they did. Quickly jumping to his feet, Kodaal looked around what little bit of the warhouse he could see that wasn’t obscured by large crates, “Everyone! If you’re okay, get to anyone that isn’t and get to cover! We’re gonna have company!” He yelled out to anyone that could hear him. They wouldn’t just shoot at the warehouse like this without a plan. No, they had to be stupid or they had to be a bigg-
“...Kodaal.”
A weak, near-silent voice broke Kodaal’s whirling thoughts from their vortex. Quickly, Kodaal’s head snapped towards the direction of the voice. His eyes widened, tears springing to them in an instant. “No…”
Violet laid still where she’d landed, blood pooling around her chest, right below where her heart would be. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and a twisted grimace of pain enveloped her features.
Kodaal was by her side in an instant, hands frantically trying to do something, anything to stop the blood from flowing. “No… No! No, no, no, nononononono-” He looked around sharply for cloth, but quickly stopped as he spotted the scarf around his mother’s neck. With a quick motion, he unraveled it and held it to the wound on Violet’s torso. She winced in pain, her breath growing more ragged by the second. Kodaal looked down at her desperately, tears falling freely from his crimson eyes, “Y-You’re gonna be okay, mom! It’s gonna be okay! Dad can-!”
Violet choked out a laugh, her breath hitching wetly as she did so. With a sharp, rattling cough, she spoke. “Shhh… It’s okay, i-it’s gonna be alright. Don’t worry about me.”
What?
What business did she have, telling him that it’d be alright? He wasn’t the one…
Violet smiled up at her son, the light that always seemed to shine in her lilac eyes slowly burning away, like the last embers of a once mighty flame, “How did I get so lucky... I wonder?” she murmured quietly. Reaching up, her blood-stained hand gently clasped the side of Kodaal’s neck. Quickly, Kodaal reached up to support it, “You grew up so big… You know that?” She smiled at him. Brilliant and soft, the kindest, gentlest thing that Kodaal had ever seen. “...My… little…”
And then she was gone. Violet’s hand fell from Kodaal’s neck, leaving it stained a deep, shimmering crimson. The embers in her eyes and smile faded away, and the ashes scattered in the non existent wind. In mere moments, she’d been taken from him.
His hand hovered over where he’d held her hand. He could still feel the warmth on his neck. Could still see the smile in her eyes.
Somewhere distant, he heard a sharp clicking and a voice. He could barely make out the words. ‘Hands up!’ Barely understand what they meant. His fist beginning to clench the scarf in his hand tightly, he turned his head slowly to see three, unfamiliar, uniformed men aiming their guns at him.
No, not unfamiliar.
Atlas Military. The same military that his father had once been a part of.
Kodaal, returned their stares, his eyes deadpan and unfocused. A realization dawned on him. They had done this. It was their doing. The woman that now lie unmoving before him? A man in an Atlas uniform had taken that shot.
She was so kind. So gentle. She hadn’t even had her Aura unlocked.
With a cry of rage that came out as more of a hoarse whimper, Kodaal reached out towards the group with a sharp, sudden motion. In mere moments, three pillars of ashen charcoal sprouted from the ground before the men. In mere moments, they grew sharply and pierced their chests.
With another cry of anguish, Kodaal leapt to his feet, tying the bloodied scarf in his hands around his neck and pulling it up over his mouth. They’d pay for this. Even if it killed him.
Sprinting through the hallways, he ran directly for the door. He was stopped in his tracks, however, as the sounds of fighting filled the area around him. He saw Emerald, in the distance, fall to the ground as Atlesian soldiers surrounded her. Emerald, who cooked for him and his sister every Friday. Omelets with spinach. “Good for your health,” She’d always said.
To her left, he watched Lavay charge towards a trio of soldiers, large fists raised and ready to fight, only to be shot in the back by another pair of soldiers that’d surrounded him. “Always be on your guard,” he’d said, “Never be surprised and you’ll never lose the upper hand.” And now he’d failed to take his own advice.
Kodaal’s world, no matter how much he despised it, was falling around him, and he knew there was little he could do. His prior resolve was fading quickly, and all that remained beyond it was a scared child afraid of the things he’d done.
The image of his mother’s blood flashed through his mind.
With a pitiful roar, he sprinted towards the front of the building.
Pushing through the front doors onto the empty street, he cried out again, loudly, ”Where are you?! Show yourself, you coward!” His voice broke as he screamed, but he didn’t care. He was wide open, but he didn’t care. His father could probably handle whatever came inside, and there’s no way Ashton would let anything happen to Lylah. Right now, Kodaal had only one thing on his mind, as he stared directly at the rooftop across the street.
“Come out! If you’re strong enough to pull the trigger, then you’re strong enough to tell me why!” His voice was hoarse now, barely above a croak. But it was drenched in anguish.
A level of anguish not often heard.
'Charcoal'
"For her."
dandy ♫
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