Not Your Hero - Chapter 4

Not Your Hero - Chapter 4

Rude Awakenings

Reyna found herself smiling at Mauve as quiet music played from the speakers he was originally built with. Sometimes, it seemed like he truly had a mind of his own.

“You know, classical music never did fit a motorcycle. But I don’t think I was expecting electro-pop either.”

Aseria couldn’t help but laugh to her mother as they made their way through the ruins of their home.

“Well, rock sounded too cliché and I think he wanted to stand out from the other models just in case I lost him in a crowd.”

Reyna winks as the music stops. An accented, yet robotic voice cuts through the quiet humming of the engine.

“I simply enjoy something more upbeat in the morbid times we are living in, madame.”

Aseria nods at the statement.

“I can’t blame you at all for that. You think one day we will be able to listen to that music in the street as a village again rather than just the three of us here?”

Reyna sighs and kicks a particularly large rock out of their way as they approach a large, broken down house. Nothing they hadn’t seen before, just off putting since it was the ruins of family memories and childhood wonders.

“One of these days, can’t say it will be soon, though. I think there will need to be a rebirth before we can officially rebuild this city for good. There has been enough destruction here on both sides to last a lifetime. Now we need to see the opposite.”

Kicking in the front door, Aseria finds herself angry that so many good memories were buried under the rubble and ash. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone, or maybe many people, hiding in the house for cover from the soldiers that ravaged the streets as of late.

“You said you were going to tell me about dad, why bring me here? I don’t recall him being here very much. Though I guess that was a good thing if he was as horrible as everyone made him out to be.”

Reyna didn’t say very much to her daughter at first as she whispered something to Mauve, most likely a ‘keep watch for soldiers’ as the two women took a walk down memory lane.

“He wasn’t the one that everyone was worried about. He was the scapegoat that didn’t mind having a bounty on his head if it meant keeping you, the boys and myself safe. He would do anything for all of us.”

Aseria let out a disbelieving laugh. There was no way that her father, a man that only showed up in the evenings for a bed to sleep in and only ever sent telegrams on birthdays and holidays could have possibly cared about his wife, children or anything that had to do with their well-being.

“How interesting that he was never really around yet claimed to care for us,” She sarcastically muttered under her breath and she shifted on her feet as she continued “he died on that battlefield with nothing but guilt and anger in his heart and you know it too. He was plagued by a very human disease called greed.”

She heard a deep sigh come from her mother as she decided to sit on the floor as her mom sat across from her.

“Hey, look at me.”

She glanced up at her mom only to see tears in her eyes. She grabbed her mother’s hands, something her mother used to do when she and her brothers were upset or in pain when they were younger. Her mother was always there to comfort her, now it was her turn to return that favor.

“He may not have shown it, but he really loved you all. He still does.” She paused, almost as if she was considering what she was going to say next. After a moment of silence, she nods to herself, finally accepting the truth of the situation. “He still asks about you all the time.”

Aseria’s eyes widened at the end of the statement. A man that was originally missing in action, later passed off as killed in action, still asking about her?

“You commune with the dead?”

“You truly believe he died?”

“I would rather believe that he is dead, would make the pain a little more bearable. Especially if he hasn’t made the effort to reach out to me.”

“He can’t exactly reach out to you if you won’t let anyone communicate with you unless they physically track you down. You’re not the easiest.”

Aseria dropped her head in defeat. Her mother had a point. After throwing away any communication devices for the sake of not hearing another report of her friend’s or families bodies being found dead or wounded beyond repair.

“Guess he and I have that in common then.”

Reyna stands from her position on the floor and gives her daughter a hand on the shoulder as comfort.

“When the dust settles, he will come home. That’s a promise he made to me years ago that I have no doubt he will keep.”

“So who is he the scapegoat for?” Aseria’s voice trailed off with slight fear regarding the thought of who the mastermind could be that used her father as a pawn.

“Your grandfather, actually.”

“It would be the man I’ve never met, wouldn’t it.”

“He’s not a man you’d want to meet. He wanted to destroy all the progress that everyone has made and create it in his image like a god would.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than just wishful thinking and the will of an elder to restart the villages that were destroyed by Betrothal. The ones that weren’t fully destroyed are still struggling to rebuild themselves.”

“I think we should just burn it all to the ground. That might be the only way we can truly restart.”

Both women freeze in their tracks at the new voice. It’s familiar, in any other circumstance it would be very comforting, but now it was just as haunting as the very first time they heard it on the other side of the battlefield.

“You’re not supposed to be here, my love. But it is so great to see you again, Reyna.”