《Life in Nowhere》


 1 - Traveler

    Syme brought his wrist up to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. He sighed. His feet were sore, his ankles were mangled from walking in the sand, his back and arms ached from unhealed wounds, his eyes were blinded from the bright sun and encrusted with sand, but he was close now, close to his destination, a grey building peering above the flat terrain around it. It hurt, everything hurt, but it didn''t matter. This would be his ticket to success. Story, story, he had to remember the story he created.


    He took a glance behind. A little figure trailed behind him, not much taller than his waist. Two horns adorned her head, one snapped in half. These, along with her bizarrely pale skin, marked her distinctly as a denizen of this world. But, beyond that, she seemed human enough, though perhaps a little too small. She wore primitive clothes, a sort of rough shift with a matching cloak.


    Her horns would no doubt cause alarm. Syme stopped and covered it with some extra cloth before continuing on.


    He was nearing collapse by the time he reached the entrance. The door quickly swung open, a few excited youths still dressed in uniform peering curiously at him. A few of them helped him up as he stumbled. One of them brought him some water, which he gulped down graciously.


    The inside of building was dark, light filtering in through a few windows. It was cooler inside, but not by much.


    They began to bombard him with questions, asking where he came from, or what his name was, but he ignored them.


    "Who''s in charge? I have bad news," he announced.


    "Uh, Eran and the rest, I suppose," one of them answered. "If you want, I''ll take you to him."


    He was lead to small, conference-like room. A round table sat in the middle, with a dozen or so seats around it, four of which were occupied.


    "Er, hello," one greeted, seeing them enter.


    "My name''s Syme. I''ve been traveling for days now."


    "Really? Have a seat. My name''s Eran, beside me is Sue. Along with Saul and Nime, we used to be the student council. Now, what do you have to say? Are you also a student?"


    Eran had a tough build with fair hair and a healthy complexion. Sue, the girl next to him, had orderly straight black hair, contrasted with her rather pale skin. She was of average height, shorter than Eran by half a head. Nime was a short boy, black hair as well, easily excitable and the youngest of the four. Saul''s face seemed to be forever adorned with scowl. He, too, was pale in complexion, but he quickly turned red when angered.


    Nime wouldn''t be a factor, Syme judged. Sue didn''t seem to be the kind of person who would go against what the others said, so he could ignore her. Saul... he couldn''t say, and Eran was even more unreadable.


    "Yes," Syme answered, sitting down. "One day I and everyone else in my school woke up in school cafeteria, still fully dressed in uniform. When we looked outside, well, there was nothing but desert."


    "I see," Eran said, "it was the same for us."


    Syme grimaced. "We spotted something outside, but when we went out, it ran off. An hour or so later, we were swarmed by these impish creatures. They came carrying wooden spears and swords." He grimaced. "I managed to escape with some water and food."


    "I... I don''t know what to say," Eran said. "I am sorry for your loss, for what that''s worth."


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    "Mm," Syme mumbled, nodding his head.


    "Can you describe what they look like?" the girl beside him, evidently named Sue, asked.


    "Better than that, I can show you," Syme answered. He took the covering off of the top of the creature''s head, who had continued to follow him, revealing her horns, one snapped in half.


    "She''s¡ª!" Eran exclaimed.


    "Yes, engrave her features into your memory. This is our enemy. Two horns, pale skin, small stature," Syme said grimly. "I call them Imps."


    "She''s kinda cute," Sue said. She then paled in realization. "Oh, I''m so sorry, I shouldn''t have¡ª"


    "I won''t be offended by that," Syme answered. Especially because none of that happened.


    "But why is she following you?" Eran asked once his shock began to fade.


    "While I wandered, I found her dying. At first, I wanted to kill her in rage, but I calmed myself and reconsidered. She can be useful as an observation subject, so that we can learn their biology and weak points," Syme explained. "So I fed her some food and gave her some water. Ever since, she''s followed me. I named her Cily."


    Not bad. He made that up on the spot. She looked up curiously at him when he said it. I''m glad you can''t speak, he thought, tussling her hair.


    Eran carefully observed her horns. "Did you do that?" he asked, pointing towards the broken one.


    "No," he said, shaking his head, "the horns are too strong for me to break. She was like that when I found her. Considering her state, I suspect it''s a symbol of banishment."


    At least that wasn''t a lie.


    "I see," Eran said, processing the new information. "That''s... pretty bad. We need to prepare to defend ourselves. Immediately." He looked over at Syme. "Syme, you are the most familiar with their ilk. I''d like you help, if you''re fine with that."


    "Of course," Syme responded. "I already have some ideas," he said as he tried to stand up, but he suddenly doubled over in pain, falling to the floor. Cily immediately began to help him up, and despite her small stature, she managed to lift him back into his seat. She looked at him worriedly.


    "Are you okay?" Eran asked, alarmed. "Sue, help me take his shirt off."


    Sue nodded.


    "I''m fine," Syme protested. "There is no time to waste."


    "A fine person does not hunch over in pain," Eran replied.


    When they got close to him, they were blocked by Cily, who stood in from of him arms outstretched, a nasty look on her face.


    "Stop," Syme said, touching her shoulder. She gave him a worried glance, then moved away over to his side.


    They removed his shirt to reveal two large stab wounds on his chest. The area around was massively swollen and yellow pus emerged at the fringes.


    "Well, that''s not good," Eran said.


    "I''m fine," Syme gasped. His vision momentarily blackened out. He had pushed himself hard during the desert trek. His head felt muddled and his eyelids heavy.


    Eran frowned. "I think he''s fainting. Sue, go over to the infirmary and ready a bed. I''ll try to find something that can be used as a stretcher. Maybe the..."


    Eran''s voiced trailed out. The last thing he felt was Cily shaking his leg in worry.

 2 - Conference

    He woke up staring at a tiled ceiling. Yes, he had made it. He looked around the room; it was still a little dark, with morning light beginning to come through via the two windows to the side. He must''ve slept through the night. At a glance, there didn''t seem to be anyone else in the room.


    There was something warm next to him underneath the covers. Of course, it was Cily. She tended to cling to him whenever they went to sleep. He panicked the first time she did it, but eventually he got use to it, and besides, her warmth was useful during the cold desert nights. He gently tugged his arm free, causing her to wake. She looked at him and frowned, pointing at his chest, which was now covered in bandages.


    "No, I''m good now. Good. This," he said, pointing at the bandages, "good."


    She smiled in return. She was really quite endearing. Probably. He couldn''t really tell.


    Opening the door, he found another student, sitting in a chair and about to doze off. When he noticed Syme, he jumped a little.


    He stared at Cily, specifically at her horns. "It''s true then..." he said with a hint of wonder. Then, he shook his head. "Anyways, Eran told me to bring you to the council room if you''re rested and all. Are you?"


    "I''m fine now, thank you," Syme replied.


    The boy led him to the same room he was in before. Eran was there in his usual seat, with Sue next to him as usual, but there were another two there, a short, lanky boy, and a tall, grim-faced boy.


    Eran, noticing his entrance, gave a quick greeting and introduction. "Syme," he said, indicating towards the new faces, "this is Saul and Nime. Saul was the treasurer at the time, and Nime was the secretary," he explained. "Though, really, it doesn''t matter anymore," he added on the end.


    Syme gave a quick nod towards them, and they replied in tow.


    "I''ll fill you in on what''s going on," Eran said. "We''ve already had an announcement about the new information regarding the hostile native species. Currently we were discussing our future plans."


    "We obviously need some sort of armed forces to defend ourselves," Nime said. "But we are currently in disagreement about the amount. I''m pushing for a larger force, but Saul wants a small one."


    "Have you had a census done?" Syme asked.


    "Yes," Saul answered. "It was one of the first thing''s we did. Currently there are 463 students still here. 138 students are missing from the roster. No alumni or staff are here. There is no one older than 18 or younger than 14. Additionally, half of the Seniors are missing. Gender wise, it is roughly equal, with 23 more males than females."


    "Syme, pardon me from bringing up bad memories, but you are the only one with first-hand experience. What do you suggest we do in terms of arming ourselves?" Eran asked.


    "Dedicated armed forces numbering 200, standing army of 100," Syme answered.


    "Is it that bad?" Saul asked, shocked. "That is quite a lot."


    "If I am to be honest, they are not. Their arms are primitive and they seem to have no strategy with their attacks. It would not take much to fortify a building like this."


    "Then why?"


    "Because we need an offensive force."


    "But¡ª" Saul protested.


    "I can understand your dissention," Syme interrupted. "However, you must understand, we will die if we are so passive. How much food do we have left?"


    "From food leftover in the cafeteria, we can probably last another week. If we ration heavily, then two," Nime answered.


    "There you go. Do you see food around us? Nor can we farm in such short time either. But, there are civilizations already here. Primitive ones, with primitive armaments."


    "I apologize for any offensive," Saul said, "but perhaps the desire for revenge is clouding your decisions."


    "He does have a point, however," Nime interjected. "We really can''t survive for much longer with our current resources."


    "Additionally, an offensive military presence can allow us to protect any other transported schools that we find," Syme added. "Imagine finding others like us, then being forced to do nothing but watch as they are slaughtered."


    "Couldn''t we try to talk to them?" Saul asked. "The Imps I mean. Negotiate for food."


    "I can tell you they''re in no mood for negotiating," Syme said dryly. "And how exactly do we communicate with them? They don''t speak our language."


    "What about the little girl that''s following you?"


    "Cily? She doesn''t speak our language either. And even if she did, I don''t know how much of her language she knows either. Besides, are they going to trust a child with negotiations?"


    "Still¡ª"


    "I see," Eran interjected. "It seems we''re in disagreement. It comes to a vote, then. Let''s pretend we''re a government committee. Ayes for an offensive plan, Nays for a defensive plan."


    Saul eyed Eran suspiciously; he was cutoff before he could present his side of the argument after all. But given the flow of the conversation he couldn''t object.


    "Aye."


    "Aye."


    "Aye."


    "Aye."


    "...Aye," Saul said reluctantly.


    "The ayes have it," Eran said. "Let''s get to the details then."


    "We shouldn''t have our militia be haphazard. I doubt we will ever have the numerical advantage, so we need to focus on what advantages we do have," Syme said.


    "Which are?" Eran prompted.


    "Technology, the history of human warfare, and greater order."


    "I see. What do you have in mind, then?"


    Syme thought for a moment. "Do you know any history buffs?" he asked. "Given the level of weapons we can reasonably make, it would be best to take from our ancestors."


    "Viz," Eran said after a moment thinking. "I can''t imagine anyone in the school knowing more about ancient history. He was the President of both the history and the Latin club. Sue, could you go get him?"


    "What, am I your servant?" Sue rebutted. She rose out of her seat regardless, however.


    "I''m sorry, I''ll go then."


    "I didn''t say I wouldn''t do it," Sue sighed.


    A moment later Sue came back with a lanky, disheveled fellow with messy black hair that partially obscured his eyes. He sauntered in, clearly disinterested.


    "You called?" he grunted.


    Eran nodded. "We''d begun military preparations. At the behest of Syme here, we''d like your input given your knowledge of ancient warfare."


    Syme could see a glitter in Viz''s eye when the words "ancient warfare" came out.


    "Why, I''d be honored," he replied, trying but failing to hide excitement in his voice.


    "So, what army to model ours after?" Eran prompted.


    "I remember your announcement, but I need to know more of how our opponents work." Viz asked in return.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.Syme spoke up. "From what I saw, they''re not particularly organized. They wield relatively primitive weapons. Mostly wooden spears, no shields or armor. When they attacked us, they simply rushed in as a horde."


    "It''s a knee-jerk reaction, but Roman," Viz replied immediately.


    "What''s your reasoning? Why Roman over, say, Persian, or Greek?" Syme asked, curious.


    "We don''t have the numbers for Persian light infantry. We need soldiers that will trade efficiently with the enemy; that means heavy infantry," Viz answered.


    "And Greek? I''d say a Macedonian phalanx qualifies as heavy infantry."


    "I had thought of a phalanx at first as well," Viz said, rubbing his chin in thought. "For one thing, phalanx training is difficult, and even one solider who messes up will break the structure and the effectiveness of a phalanx."


    "But at the same time, legionaries were well known for their discipline," Syme interjected.


    "Yes, but the legions were more fluid, which gives a larger margin for error. The largest con, however, is the lack of cavalry. We don''t have any horses or camels, do we?"


    "You are correct," Saul said dryly. "Our horse and camel stock is lacking for whatever reason."


    Undeterred, Viz continued. "You mentioned the Macedonians before. Heavy cavalry was a large part of their success. Infantry was used as a sort of wall to position enemy infantry for the cavalry to break. And after the enemy broke, the cavalry would chase routing opponents. Without cavalry, we''ll be lacking the anvil for our hammer, and have no chasing power.


    "Since we essentially only have infantry, the versatility of a legion-style army will be essential. We can afford a longer line, which will help with our numerical disadvantage. We won''t be as weak to flanking attacks. Our units will be far more maneuverable. With a slow phalanx, a single mistake in positioning can spell doom, and our generals will certainly be inexperienced."


    "What about equipment?" Syme asked.


    "A large wooden shield and a short sword," Viz replied. "What else?"


    "Ah, yes, the Gladius Hispaniensis. The Roman army after the Marian reforms were one of the few in history to arm their soldiers primarily with swords and not spears," Syme murmured. "I have no issue with the shield, but I''m not sure we have the materials for each soldier to have a full sword. Spears are much less taxing, partly the reason for their popularity."


    "A compromise, then? The Gladius was used primarily as a stabbing weapon. A short spear, then. Like the Iklwa of the Zulu."


    "What about armor?" Eran asked.


    "If we can''t afford a sword, then I''m afraid armor is out of the question," Viz said.


    There was a short silence after that, as no one knew what to say. Eventually, Eran interrupted the silence and dismissed Viz.


    "It seems we are done, then, with the basics at least," Eran announced. "I''ll have Sue write down the details discussed," he added, causing her to glare at him. "Thank you, Viz. If we need you later, we''ll call."


    "No, no, it was my pleasure." He moved closer to Syme. "You are Syme, correct? It was good to meet you," he said, reaching out his hand.


    "Likewise," Syme replied, shaking his hand.


    After that, Viz nodded towards the rest and took his leave.


    Eran coughed. "Now, if there''s a military, there needs to be leadership."


    "That''s beyond me," Syme said. "I don''t know the people of this school. But I do think students who have displayed leadership capabilities, clubs, teams, should be considered."


    "Indeed, I''ll compile a list myself. But ahead of them all will be you," Eran said.


    "Me?" Syme replied, incredulous.


    "You spearheaded this, you get to control it. You''re the general now. Congratulations."


    He wanted him to refuse. Accepting could be disasterous, but refusing would set him back significantly. Damn, Eran wasn''t fooled after all. He would have to gamble.


    "I... see. I will humbly accept, then," Syme said.


    "Anything else?"


    He needed some ammunition for his unexpected promotion. Best to sow your seeds early. "About the food supply, there is a way to extend our time. Cily taught me that a certain type of cactus-like plant grows naturally in the environment outside and is edible. I would not have been able to make it here without it."


    "We''ll have parties search out and begin gathering them immediately," Eran replied curtly.


    "...additionally, if I may be so rude, I''d like to use my authority now to request for the students best at engineering and carpentry to meet me later on," Syme added.


    "Consider it done," Eran replied. "Sue will get to it."


    "Why me?" she mumbled in response.


    "Anything else?" Eran asked.


    "Just a little thing, if Sue doesn''t mind¡ª"


    "¡ªI do mind," she interjected.


    "...if she didn''t mind, I''d want some spare clothing for Cily. And maybe some books to help her learn our language."


    "Oh! For her? Sure. Come on, follow me," she said, standing up.


    "I''ll take my leave, then," Syme said.


    Cily, who had fallen asleep against his leg at some point, woke up groggily as he rose, then followed him and Sue out.


    "...uh, I''ll leave too," Nime said. He''d noticed that Saul had been glaring at Eran for a while now.


    "What the hell are you doing?" Saul asked after Nime had left.


    "I realize," Eran said, sighing. "I was caught up in the flow."


    "Caught up enough to just handle him a position?"


    "That actually was my way to gain back some control. You can tell by his reaction that he genuinely didn''t expect it. It caught him off-guard."


    "You expect him to flounce, then?" Saul asked.


    "Maybe, I don''t know¡ªlook, the only reason we''re in power is because when everyone had no idea what to do we did. And to be frank, we don''t know what to do anymore. If he does, then hell, I don''t care"


    Saul banged his hand against the table. "Look how quickly he brings up war! I cannot believe that this is a good idea. He clearly has ulterior motives."


    "Maybe, maybe," Eran mumbled. "Saul, for me, just wait on it. Wait and see."


    Saul didn''t say anything for a bit, debating internally. "...fine," he said eventually, rising to leave. "But damn you if it''s too late," he added.


    Eran called out to him as he opened the door. "Maybe we''re being too serious about this. Do you think every highschooler has such a Machiavellian heart? What if he''s genuine?"


    "It''s life or death here, Eran. There is no such thing as too serious," Saul said as he slammed the door behind him.


    "Oh Saul," Eran murmured, shaking his head, "in times of change you have to be flexible if you want to profit."

 3

    Syme sighed. A few days had passed since the meeting. Looking back, he''d managed to get most of his points across without being too suspicious. Sue and Nime were no issue. Saul, though, was an obstacle. Syme was pretty sure that he''d been seen through, but so far, nothing had come from it. Eran¡ªit was hard to tell. In a way, he was the most dangerous.


    The school he was at was a rich prep school that fed into a famous college, named Pisces Academy after the horoscope.


    His musings were interrupted by Cily, who had pointed to a word and looked to him for it''s meaning.


    "Tree. It''s a plant. Yes, it''s like those things out there, just much bigger and, er, greener. There''s a picture of it here," he answered, flipping to a page.


    They were in an empty classroom he had taken residency in. She was currently sitting in his lap, causing him no small discomfort, reading a children''s book Sue had found somewhere. At first he''d just sat her on a table, but she grew anxious, and, sadly for his legs, he decided that it was worth the sacrifice to hasten her reading abilities. She would be a valuable tool, perhaps the only creature in this world capable of speaking both the Impish language and theirs.


    There weren''t any clothes fit for a someone her size, so Sue just gave her a spare uniform. The blazer itself reached to her knees, so she didn''t wear the skirt. Additionally, Sue found a poofy hat to cover her horns, worried at any stigma they may cause. All together, she looked now simply as a normal, though pale, young kid pretending to be a highscooler.


    The door slide open, a band of students entering. They were tired and dirtied, but were proud and eager to show what they had done. The leader, a skinny boy suitably named Bean, started, then stopped mid-sentence.


    "Did we, er, come at a bad time?" he asked, looking at Cily. "If you''re busy..."


    "Hm? Don''t worry about, I''m free at the moment,"  Syme replied.


    "If you say so..." Bean said hesitatingly.


    They were the set of engineering students Syme had asked for. He had separated the eight or so students into two groups, R&D1 and R&D2. R&D1 developed new technologies; R&D2 figured out how to produce them effectively. Their first task, was, of course, weaponry, and they had taken to it with passion.


    As Bean fumbled around in his bag, the rest of the engineering teams filtered into the room and made themselves comfortable. A few of the girls in the group tried to pat Cily''s head, but she recoiled away.


    "I don''t think she likes humans," one of them said in exasperation


    "Really?" Syme murmured. He''d found her pretty obedient himself.


    "Here," Bean said, handing something over to Syme. "The shaft that makes up the spear is a desk leg. Since you told us to model it after a short sword, the spear head extends more then halfway down the shaft and is sharp on both edges in addition to the point. It also acts as an impromptu guard."


    Syme stabbed the air a few times; it handled well, with a good amount of weight at the end. Syme banged it a few times against a desk.


    "Don''t worry, we''ve done extensive testing," Bean reassured, "it won''t break easily."


    "Very good, very good," Syme mumbled. "You''ve done a good job. How''s work going on production?"


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    "If all of us are working it, we can probably  hammer out 5 or 6 per hour," Bean reported.


    "That''s impressive," Syme said. "Start as soon as you can. Stockpile them in the closet near the Council room. Sue will give you a spare key."


    "We''ll get on it, then," Bean said. "Next, the shield," he said, bringing out what looked lke a large wooden square. "The core is made of desk metal, with a wooden covering. These are slower to make, it''ll take 2 or three hours per person."


    "Mm, then focus on shields. They''re more important. The less people die, the better," Syme said. "You''ve all done a good job," he added.


    "Thanks," Bean said. "If that''s all, we''ll get to production, then."


    "Wait," Syme said. "Bean, stay back. I have another project for you."


    "Another project?" Bean asked curiously, but Syme didn''t answer him until the rest of the group had filtered out.


    "I need you to find water," Syme said. "We need to find water," he amended. "They''ve¡ªI mean the Eran and the others¡ªhave been hiding this, but we''re running out of water. So far we''ve used the water left from the plumbing, but we''re starting to run dry."


    "B-but how can I just find water? It''s a desert!" Bean asked. "I''m not sure I can do that."


    "Underground aquifers, perhaps? There''s obviously no groundwater around, so that''s our best shot. You''re the smartest kid Eran knows, so if you can''t do it, then we''ll all just have to die of dehydration."


    Bean gulped. "I''ll... I''ll try my best, I suppose. But don''t get your hopes up."


    "Of course," Syme reassured. "Eran said you can use anything, including the car batteries we''ve been hoarding. Try to be secretive as well, we don''t want a panic."


    Bean smiled nervously, then left.


    Syme sighed; some things were going well, others were not. The problem still is that there is no impetus for the make-shift militia to actually train. Only a mere 75 students or so even signed up out of the 200 quota Syme had set, and of course no one trained seriously. For one, they didn''t have the arms to train with¡ªthat was a problem he could now rectify, but they''ll likely just treat the spears and shields as toys more than anything.


    There were two problems with this; first, Syme standing would fall. As the "general" of the militia program he had pushed for so hard, the current state of affairs did not reflect well on him. If Eran or someone people knew lead the force, perhaps things would be different.


    Second, Syme was genuinely beginning to worry about an attack. From what he had seen, it wouldn''t be so hard to fortify the school building. The only problem is that no progressive had been made at all. His power play would be useless if everyone died.


    "Whaat?" Cily asked, pointing at another word. Her speaking ability was improving faster than he had thought.


    "That''s a seed," Syme explained. "It grows into a tree," he continued, pointing at an illustration of a tree. "Though it starts small, it''ll grow into something grand."


    He picked up the short spear prototype Bean had left behind. As he had expected, the makeshift militia no longer sends guards with the scavengers because they find it too troublesome. It may be time for him to reap his crop.

 3

    In the makeshift hierarchy Eran had developed, there were four higher officers who answered to Syme. They were each a leader of a club or team: Ky, who captained two martial arts clubs, Ellen, who captained women''s football, Nier, who captained men''s football, and Ally, who captained the baseball team.


    It was unwieldy. He would reform the military command structure into something that more resembled an actual military, but he''ll deal with it for now to appease Eran and the rest.


    The volunteers were mostly boys, but there were girls. They all followed Ellen, of course.


    They tried to put up appearances around him, sympathetic to his "past", but it was obvious that they and their members weren''t serious. But, at least, they gathered in the same place.


    Syme called for the four''s attention with as many of the volunteers around as possible. This needed to be as public as possible.


    "Why aren''t we sending guards with the foragers anymore?" he asked, feigning anger.


    "We don''t really think it''s necessary," Nier replied.


    "Not necessary!? Are you joking?"


    "Look, Syme, I''m sorry, but we haven''t seen any of those creatures you''ve warned about," Ellen said.


    Syme crossed his arms. "What about Cily, then?"


    "Alright, I take that back¡ªbut look at her, she wouldn''t hurt a fly." She brushed back some of her hair. "It''s just a bit far-fetched¡ª"


    "We''ve been teleported to the middle of a desert, but this is far-fetched?" Syme rebuted. "What are you going to do when some of the foragers end up dead?"


    "We''ll take responsibility, then. But it''s not going to happen, or at least not because monsters attack them," Nier replied.


    "We''re dealing with lives here¡ªI don''t think you''re taking this seriously enough," Syme said.


    Ally interjected. "If you''re so concerned, then why don''t you go?"


    Perfect. "You know what? That''s exactly what I''m going to do," Syme said, marching off afterwards. He couldn''t ask for a better opportunity.


    Ellen scowled at them. "There''s no reason to take that kind of attitude, he just wanted everyone to be safe."


    "What the hell are you doing!?" a voice cried.


    Syme kneeled over and puked, dropping his bloodied weapon. Revulsion poured from every pore of his body. His muscles locked up, his mind drew blank in pain, his vision began to black out¡ªit was as if his body had begun to reject itself. He had never felt so intense and so awful a pain as he did now.


    There was something wrong. There was no physical reaction to murder, he knew that. How could there be. It''s not like his body could know that he was stabbing a person and not, say, a cake, but even if it did, he was fairly sure such a reaction was not evolutionarily favorable.


    Damn. The problem was that he''d never killed anyone before. He would know for sure if it was strange or not then.


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    But he couldn''t afford to stay still right now; the one still alive could tell the others or just kill him. Either way it''d be over for him and he couldn''t let that happen. Clutching his abdomen, he focused his wavering vision and stumbled up, just in time to see a punch thrown at him. He barely ducked in time, nearly falling over in the process.


    Good. He had a chance in a fight; with the condition he was in, chasing after someone healthy would be impossible. He needed to stall until he was fully recovered. He reached for the weapon he had dropped, but his hand was kicked out of the way. A punch followed, and he was forced to run the other way. He stumbled on the sand, dropping to a knee. He took a hit to the shoulder, but managed to throw some sand into his pursuer''s face and scramble away.


    The boy was screaming something at him throughout, but he didn''t care enough to listen. The terrain proved to be both a blessing and a curse, as it impeded his pursuer as much as it impeded him. And yet, he was still clearly losing. He had yet to even counterattack. He knew he needed an advantage to win the exchange, so he gradually led the chase back to the place where had dropped his weapon.


    It was close, so close, only a meter or so away. But he misstepped in the sand and the boy did not miss his chance. Syme took a punch to the eye and then the abdomen. A flush of pain went through his body and he crumpled. The boy grabbed him by the collar.


    "Why!?" the boy screamed at him.


    There was no way for him to win a fight anymore, he knew that, so he shifted tactics. He had to come up with some explanation, though he knew it''d sound incredibly weak in context. At worst, he might have to escape and find another school.


    "I-I... it was a hallucination, I thought he was one of those imps¡ª"


    The boy slammed his head against the sand. "Like hell I''d believe that!"


    Bad, bad. Damn, would things end here? He closed his eyes; he''d have to go with the brainwashing defense.


    As he prepared for more blows, he found none. Instead, he felt a drop of warm blood fall on his face. Opening his eyes, he found a dull silver blade grotesquely pierced through the boy''s face. It was Cily¡ªshe must''ve followed him. But what strength she had! The make-shift spear wasn''t all too sharp to begin with, but she''d lodged it through both ends of his skull. He''d fought with their kind before¡ªthey''re not that strong.


    He rolled the boy''s body off of him. Cily looked at him with a worried expression.


    "I''m fine," he said, stroking her hair. "I misjudged you; it seems you''ll be more useful than I thought."


    Then, he looked at the dead bodies and sighed. It was really hot out here.

 5

    Later, a group of students, of which included Eran, Ellen and Nier, met a hysterical Cily, who managed to get out a, "Help, Syme, bad".  She led him to an injured Syme, covered in wounds, who warned that the foraging party had been attacked. A few students volunteered to bring him back while the rest moved onwards to the spot where Syme had said the others were.


    There they found the dead bodies of two students, 16 and 17 respectively, named San and Owar. It was a gruesome sight; their bodies were filled with spear wounds, almost to the point of being unrecognizable as human. San in particular had a massive hole through his face. A few of their limbs were torn off and their clothing had been stolen, leaving their corpses uncovered. Little footprints dotted the scene. There was little doubt who the perpetrators were.


    The news spread quickly. The entire atmosphere of the school had changed¡ªan oppressive fear now held their hearts in a vice-like grip, controlling every aspect of their lives. Students looked out at the vast desert around them with terror, none daring to venture outside.


    For the pampered children of a prosperous nation, their current situation was unthinkable. None of them had even seen a dead body before, and now they were faced with the possibility that it could be them.


    Syme, meanwhile, had fallen deeply ill, with a high fever. He suspected it was a continuation of what had happened when he had killed the boy. If so, then he couldn''t have avoided it regardless, but it infuriated him to rendered inactive in such a vital moment. He could only hope the students turned their despair into something useful.


    He heard the door open to his side.


    "Back," a small voice said.


    "She''s too good for you," another feminine voice said.


    "Sue...? What are you doing here?" Syme groaned.


    She walked over to his side and put something down on the table next to him. "I found Cily stumbling around with a bowl of soup and thought I''d help."


    "I see," he said, raising his upper body against the backboard. "What''s happening? With the school, I mean." he asked, seeing that she had yet to leave.


    "You''ve become quite popular," she replied. "The stranger who risked his life to save our people."


    "It wasn''t much," Syme coughed. "Have we have more recruits? How are people taking this?"


    "Oh, yes, lots. I think it''s up to 223?" Sue said, shrugging. "They''re all very eager now."


    "Good, we''ll need it," Syme said. Then, he paused for a moment. "I feel your tone is a bit more biting today."


    She sighed. "Saul''s been speaking to me."


    Syme knew he''d be a problem. "About what?" he asked, feigning ignorance.


    "Baseless conspiracies," she replied. "He says that you''re power hungry. He even implied that you led the two to their demise."


    "And what do you think?" Syme said hesitatingly. Apparently not even Saul could imagine that he had killed the two.


    "I think he''s being paranoid. But listen to enough and it starts seeping into your head." She sighed again. "I''m sorry about Saul. He''s a little..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Anyway, there''s a more pressing issue. Though you are heralded as a hero, Ellen and company are under a lot of fire after many students reported that they vetoed your demands to have guards posted. Some of San and Owar''s friends have lead a witch-hunt against them. They''re being held under some kind of tribunal right now."


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    "What?" Syme said in surprise. He stumbled up from bed¡ªthis was a pivotal moment. "Where are they? I need to set things straight," he said.


    "We had hoped that you would say that," Sue said. "The council would prefer that as few people die as possible. They should be outside."


    A mob had bound the four against a desk in the middle of the lot in front of the school. Insults and accusations were thrown, the crowd only stopped from physical objects by their scarcity. Ellen and Nier had their heads down, ashamed, while Ky and Ally grimly faced their fate.


    "Hey, hey, what''s going on!" Syme yelled hoarsely. Sue stood a little ways behind.


    The crowd hushed down. "We''re going to make them pay," someone said. "They''re murderers," another added.


    "How exactly?" Syme asked. His morbid curiosity had gotten to him.


    "We''ll put ''em in out there, see how they like it!"


    Interesting, Syme thought. But now he had to defend them. He coughed, began to speak, all while dramatically waving his arms about. "Everyone, have you all grown insane? I will not deny that their actions may have cost two lives, but we cannot make right a wrong by committing an equally devious crime!"


    "We want revenge!" a few yelled.


    They''re all so damn obstinate. He needs something more dramatic. Syme pushed his way through the crowd and stood in front of the four. "I too sinned that day! Fearing for my life, I ran away, leaving San and Owar to die. If you must exile them, then I will go with them!"


    The crowd silenced itself, with members looking hesitatingly at each other.


    "We all make mistakes. But what makes us civilized, what makes us different is that we don''t let anger cloud our decisions, we give everyone a chance to repent. These four were chosen by your President for a reason. They are each talented leaders. If we kill them in blind fury, then what will we do when the Imps attack in earnest? Is that San and Owar would want? For their deaths to kill us all?" He nodded towards Ellen. "They all feel deep guilt at their actions," he prompted. He really hoped she said something.


    "I-I am unimaginably ashamed," Ellen began. "If... if you would give me the honor of redeeming myself, I would spend every fiber of my being working to prevent something like this from ever happening again. Please, I beg of you."


    With her earnest response taking the wind from their sails, the crowd slowly began to dissipate. Sue walked over with a kitchen knife and cut the ropes.


    "Good work," she said.


    "Sure, but I''m damned tired now," Syme replied.


    After they were cut loose, Ellen quickly convinced all of them to somewhat sheepishly apologize and thank him.


    "Only doing what''s right," he replied.


    Syme smiled. Though unexpected circumstances had arose, the four of them were well and truly in his pocket now.

 6

    A day later, while Syme was still recuperating, Sue barged in once again.


    "What now," he grumbled. "Are they crucifying someone this time?"


    "No," she said, "someone''s here to meet you."


    "Meet me? Who?"


    She pulled in a girl on the younger side, first or second year at most.


    "Oh? What do you wa¡ªI mean, I''m grateful for the visit, how can I help you?" Syme asked, correcting himself. He had to work on creating an courteous image.


    The girl took a deep breath. "H-hello, m-my name is M-mina, I-I use to do f-fencing and r-recreational s-sword fighting, I t-though m-maybe if y-you needed someone to maybe h-help... b-but I''m sure y-you already have s-someone and I-I''m just bothering y-you and¡ª"


    "Wait, no, please, come back," Syme said. "How good were you?"


    "N-not that good, m-my family pressured me into it..." she replied.


    "Could you be... a little more specific?" Syme asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.


    "I-It''s not much. At r-regionals, I was s-second, f-first last year, and f-f-first the year before," she said in a small voice.


    "...is it gender split?" Syme asked, his eyes widening.


    "N-no..."


    "So you''re actually really good at this."


    "Well, no, maybe..." she said, faintly blushing.


    "We''d love to have your help, then. None of us know how to sword fight, after all. Here," he said, taking something off of the table next to him and handing it to her, "this is our weapon. It''s a stabbing spear, not a sword, but you''re still the expert."


    She took it carefully and made a few jabs into the air. "C-could you tell me w-what went into the design? N-not that it''s bad or anything! It''s great! Really! ...just that I want to know what fighting style you want, that kind of thing. Oh! S-sorry, should I c-call you sir?"


    "Don''t worry about it, it''s not that official, just use my name." He thought for a moment. "Viz is the one who did most of the design. You should talk to him about it." He took another look at her. "Actually, maybe you shouldn''t..."


    "I''ll go with her, make sure Viz doesn''t do anything too scary," Sue said.


    "Is that alright with you?" he asked.


    "It''s fine. I feel bad about Owar and San''s deaths too."


    A moment later they left, leaving Syme to sleep. Afterwards, once he had recovered to the point where he could walk with no issue, he took a quick check at his would-be soldiers. They had finally begun to train in earnest, with their regular arms in tow now.


    They were propelled by fear, by anger, but even moreso by social pressure. They would try their hardest to avoid being seen as the one who defiled Owar and San''s deaths. Ellen and Nier, who felt the greatest guilt, worked nonstop, either drilling or training themselves. Ky and Ally, though a bit more reserved, followed in tow.


    It was an interesting sight to see the petite Mina instruct the rather large boys, but she was no doubt the best in terms of technique. Viz worked with her to create their current style¡ªbash upwards with the shield and fatally stab into the ribcage. It was, like the weapon itself, based off of Zulu warcraft. They borrowed Cily for a while to create a proper proportioned model.


    His army was building, the first piece of power. He could only hope that they would be attacked soon, while morale is so high. No, no hoping; you have to make your own luck if you want to succeed. He had momentum; now he had to keep it, at all costs.


    They were holding a funeral for the two deceased students. Syme slipped the idea of burning pyres in their honor, careful that it could never be traced back to him. If the Imps would not come after this, then would never come.


    Unknowingly, however, Syme was being watched by pair of sharp eyes backed with an even sharper mind.


    Even if some students found it dangerous to do something that would so obviously reveal their location, anything related to the duo''s deaths were so taboo that they held their tongues.


    Except Saul, that is, who loudly protested against it on the grounds that it would attract unwanted attention. But he was one voice amongst many, voicing an unpopular opinion. Syme let him be. He was only hurting himself; if Saul wanted to be their Demosthenes, then he would get Demosthenes'' welcome.


    His wish was granted in a few days. Whether it was the smoke from the pyres or just dumb luck he would never know, but nonetheless, a few foragers came flying into the school one day¡ªguarded, this time¡ªscreaming that they saw a group coming their way.


    A wave of panic spread throughout the school at first, but they had a plan now. Obviously a few days worth of amateur military training would not turn highschoolers into soldiers, but they had a footing now; something to anchor them. And Syme knew that he didn''t need a professional army in a closed, defensible area like this. Nor could they rout. There''s no way out. They must fight or die.


    They blocked the windows, barricaded the doors¡ªexcept one, that is. Syme left the front door open. With narrow corridors, most of the troops could be kept in reserve. Most units were concentrated at the front, with a few at the other entrances as insurance. But Syme was pretty certain that the open front door would draw all the Imps in.


    He kept himself on the roof, where he had both the best vantage and the most safety. The youngest students he had as couriers, to relay commands and information, though he doubted that it would matter much in this case.


    The Captains were on the ground. Their job was to stay back and make orders: to advance, to retreat, for the lines to swap. Though, Syme did instructed them to keep things simple, as the troops were yet undisciplined.


    From his view a mass of white and black rose in the horizon. He counted twenty or so¡ªit was a mid-sized hunting band. He''d wagered that with a trained force he could get away with zero casualties, but likely at least one will die, but that was okay. He''d estimated his margin of error to be between 1 and 5 deaths. Any more and he''d have issues.


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    The Imps, surely enough, headed directly towards the front gate, where two lines of nervous amateurs faced them. Syme had the troops aligned in a funnel-like shape from the entrance. It was Viz''s idea, evidently used by the Romans in some siege. The shape not only optimized the total attacking surface area, but it made it awkward for the attackers to position themselves.


    They would collide soon, he could see that. The soldiers at the front were no doubt terrified at the jumping, scrambling, hooting mass that went against them. But they had each other, and they had their shields.


    He head screams and grunts from below. It had begun. Sat in his perch, he could only observe the battle with his ears. Anxiety bit a little at his heart, but his mind was set on victory. This must be an overwhelming victory; it must be.


    An indeterminable amount of time later, the grunts and cries turned to cheers, and he could see some small black and white figures running¡ªand some students running after them.


    He ran down, screaming, "Don''t chase! Stop! Do not chase!" but it was difficult to hear with noisy celebration around him. He noticed that Ellen was looking at him. He made an X with his hands and hoped she would get the message.


    She slammed her shield against a wall. "Everyone shut the hell up!"


    Everyone shut up.


    "What do you want to say, General?" she continued. Everyone looked towards Syme.


    "Well, er, I was saying not to chase, but I think everyone''s stopped now." He coughed. "What''s the casualty count?"


    "Cas got bumped on the head good, and few others got some scratches, but that''s it," Nier replied happily. A small cheer rose up.


    Well, damn. Maybe he''d struck gold. "Good¡ªgood! You all did great. San and Owar''d be proud. But it''s not over! Gear up, everyone. We''re marching out!" He tapped a young student on the shoulder. "Tell Ellen and everyone to be ready in an hour. A can of preserves and a full bottle for everyone."


    Another technique, or rather principle Viz brought up. Legionaries after the Marian reforms were often nicknamed "Marian''s Mules" because of the amount of supplies they hauled with them at all times. Each soldier was his own temporary logistics train. They could outrun their supplies in order to maneuver, moving much faster than anyone would expect them to, something Caesar himself used to great effect in his conquests in Gaul.


    The Captains set to work, and everyone began to filter out to the cafeteria, where their remaining food supplies were held.


    Syme saw someone muscle through the crowd angrily. It was Saul.


    "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "Marching? Marching where?"


    "After the Imps, of course. We must weed out the threat at its root."


    "There are dead bodies still warm on the ground," Saul said.


    "I''ll have some people clean them up, but we need to strike while we have the opportunity. Their tracks will be gone if we wait too long."


    "Clean them up! As if they''re just trash!" Saul yelled. "Look at them! Look at that damn girl that follows you around! They''re basically human! You''re treating them like animals to be hunted!"


    "And so what if I was?," Syme asked carefully.


    "You damn warmonger," Saul yelled, grabbing Syme by the collar. "We won''t have a choice after you destroyed their damn homes!"


    Immediately a passing by soldier grabbed Saul by the shoulder and pulled him away. "The hell you doing? What''s the General ever done to you?" he said.


    More people gathered as they noticed the commotion.


    "Ever since we''ve been here I''ve just seen you whine, Saul," someone said.


    "Saul, you ass, you don''t get to insult anyone until you actually do something," another said.


    "We won ''cause he came," another said.


    "Are you all blind!? He''s turned you into murderers! He''s going to get us all killed!" Saul angrily rebutted.


    "Now, now, everyone," Syme said, "Saul has good intentions and I can understand him. I''m an outsider. I would be suspicious of myself if I was him."


    "Look, Saul, you''re all pissy and he''s calm. That''s how you act," someone said.


    "I-I-" Saul sputtered, growing red with anger. He screamed, then stomped away, people staring curiously at him.


    "Don''t let him get to ya," a student said.


    "It''s okay, I won''t," Syme replied, giving his most pleasant smile. Saul had the right ideas, just the wrong execution.


    "Tell him to stop," Saul demanded. He had gone to talk to Eran alone.


    "I can''t," Eran said helplessly. "C''mon, Saul, you can read the atmosphere, can''t you?" He shook his head. "Too much momentum."


    Saul pounded his fist on a desk. "Damn it! This is your fault. I warned you!"


    Eran sighed. "It all slipped out of control when those two died. I can''t predict that, and you can''t blame them for being angry over it. I''d be angry over that."


    "What are we going to do now? He wants to march over and start attacking some village. And people agree!"


    "Nothing. People told me of your, er, ''outburst''. You do understand that it makes you look like a fool? Anything you do right now only reflects poorly on you¡ªand me. Wait for a better opportunity. He''ll slip eventually, do something the public doesn''t like. That''s when you strike."


    Saul took a few deep breaths, calming himself. "You''re right, you''re right. It''s just... alright, I''ll do as you say." He turned to leave. "Remain vigilant, Eran."


    "Of course, we can''t be waging war," Eran said, see him out.

 7

    Syme knew that even an hour''s worth of time is enough for the tracks of the retreating Imps to be weathered away by the harsh winds; at the same time, he knew he could reach the area within a days time. The Imps couldn''t go far on their excursions for logistical reasons. So he sent a number of scouts, supposedly the fastest runners in the school. Six were sent. They were to be staggered. The first would run until he could see the Imps'' settlement, then run back. A relay system was thus created, so that there was no chance of getting lost.


    On the way, Nier dropped by and asked about Cily, who was still following closely behind Syme.


    "Shouldn''t you leave her behind?" he said.


    "Hm? Why?" Syme replied.


    "Y''know," Nier said, shrugging, "think about what we''re doing here."


    "I''m not sure what you''re saying," Syme said blankly.


    Nier sighed. "I''ll say it bluntly then. We''re going to go kill her people. We''ve already killed a few dozen of them."


    "Do you mind?" Syme said, looking down at Cily. She just stared back. "I don''t think she does. She''s the one who followed me anyway."


    "Well, if you say so," Nier replied uneasily.


    It only three hours or so of marching before the camp came into sight. It was time to discuss battle plans. He called his Captains to a meeting, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He had forgotten how hot it was under the sun.


    "What''s the plan, General?" Ellen asked.


    "How many troops did we bring and how are they distributed?" Syme replied, drawing a rough map of what the settlement looked like in the sand.


    "All in all we have about 90 students. Ky has 20, Ally 15, Nier 40, and me 15." She bit her lip. "Sorry for the low numbers on my side."


    "It''s not really your fault," Syme said offhandedly. "It''s unfortunate they''re so unbalanced."


    He looked up; the sun was setting. He had a choice, to attack now, or do a night raid. The latter seemed appealing for a moment, but he reconsidered. They''re not disciplined enough, he reasoned. He can''t risk it. Better to have more casualties now than risk disaster. He could afford it.


    "We''ll attack in thirty minutes. I want our front line to have 20 men. Nier, you''ll be most of it. Ellen and Ally, you''ll cover the flanks and act as reserve..."


    The sun was setting now. Syme recieved the report later: on their side, 9 confirmed dead, 1 critically injured and likely to die, 5 injured beyond combat worthiness, 30 injured but still combat ready. On the other hand, they have 46 dead Imp bodies, the rest having fled. They did well, all things considered.


    The engagement was relatively simple. Since they attacked in daylight, the Imps noticed and attacked a little ways away from the settlement. With the terrain mostly level, Syme had a hard time getting a good view, but he could see that, for once, the Imps were outnumbered. He estimated it was 90 to 60 or so. There was an opportunity then¡ªthough it was a little risky, he took Ellen''s unit, which was acting as reserve, and placed on the left wing. Then, as long as the center would not break, his left would outflank theirs and roll the lines.


    Now, Syme had them collecting loot, and the settlement proved to be bountiful. There was a well for one, which solved their water shortages, though it wasn''t a perfect solution since it was so far away. There was food, too. The Imps made a kind of dry, tough bread from some grain, though no one could find any plants there. Additionally, there was a small cache of canned food, and there was only one place they could''ve taken that from.


    The heavily injured and dead were escorted back immediately to the school. The rest would stay the night. They had brought materials for tents and could stay in the homes as well.


    A student ran up to Syme, flushed and out of breath. "I found something, er, General. It looks like a cellar or something."


    "Really?" Syme said, his interests peaked. "Have you gone in?"


    "No, thought you might like to know first."


    "Alright. I''ll round up some people and you''ll show us the way."


    He told Nier to manage things in his stead, then took Ellen and some of her fresh troops to explore. He led them to a small, inconspicuous hut, then pulled aside a rough mat to reveal a hole. A rope ladder hung down into the darkness. It was a tight fit, but they managed to squeeze in. Ellen turned on a flashlight holding one of their precious batteries.


    "Be careful," Syme warned. "Put away the shields, they''re too big."


    "Shh," Ellen hushed. "Do you hear that?"


    They all quieted down and listened. A faint moan could be heard from down the tunnel.


    "Enemies?" Ellen whispered.


    "Sounds like pain. Let''s keep going," Syme replied.


    The moans grew louder as they went deeper in. Eventually, the tunnel opened out to a small dug-out cavern. Syme could hear Ellen gasp ahead of him.


    "What is it?" he whispered.


    "T-there''s p-people, Syme. I... I s-see people, r-ropes, and, oh¡ª" she sputtered.


    "Let me see," Syme said, pushing his way ahead of him. There were two rows of humans, each bounded on the wrist and ankles with rope. Syme estimated that there were 20 of them, all naked, more girls than boys. He looked over; Ellen was still shaking, looking as if she was about to throw up.


    "Get a grip," he said, shaking her shoulder.


    "B-but¡ª" she said, looking at him with horrified eyes.


    That was something Syme could never fully understand. The only thing that stirred in his heart was a sense of opportunity, that he could use this to rouse the students up even more. No disgust, no hatred, no terror. But that doesn''t mean he couldn''t pretend.


    "We need to help them out immediately, and what''re you doing? Shaking in your boots," he reprimanded.


    She took a few deep breaths. "You''re... you''re right, I¡ª"


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    "I-is there¡ª" a small voice said, but was quickly hushed.


    "Hello!" Syme boomed. "We''re humans, just like you. If you''ll stay put for a minute, we''ll cut your bonds and get out of here."


    There was an uneasy silence.


    "Run, run!" someone hissed at last. "I don''t know how you got here, but get away! T-they''ll, they''ll be back!"


    "Who will?" Syme asked.


    "Those, those creatures."


    "Up top, you mean?"


    "Yes! Get out, while you still can!"


    "Don''t worry about that, they''re all dead."


    There was a silence, as if no one could believe what they were hearing.


    "We didn''t come alone. Come on, Ellen, let''s cut them out," he said, waving to her with his spear out. Then, he whispered to a student, the one that led them there, to go back and prepare supplies for them.


    Ellen nodded and they set out to work. The spears were only really sharp at the tip, but the ropes were thankfully thin. Still, it took a long time to cut loose even one person, and the pit festered with the putrid smell of urine, feces, and blood. When they released someone from their bonds, they didn''t move, simply staying where they were with a dazed look on their face, completely silent.


    Finally, Syme cut the last person''s bindings and wiped the sweat off of his forehead. They were still all there, looking at Ellen and him. Some of them were moving their limbs curiously or rubbing the spots where the rope had cut into their skin.


    "Alright everyone," Syme said, realizing that they wouldn''t do anything by themselves, "follow Ellen and me, we''ll lead you out."


    He saw a few people nod slowly. He had Ellen in front, while he stayed in the back to make sure no one fell behind. Many of them stumbled on the uneven ground, their limbs still weak, making the trip take much longer than it would''ve. At the end, many of them were too weak to climb the rope ladder, so Ellen had to drag them up. Finally, Syme climbed out the hole, taking a deep breath of fresh air.


    Outside, there was a small commotion. The prisoners were on a tarp, food and water brought in front of them. They ate and drank desperately, though some had trouble seeing due to the sun. A circle of curious students gathered around them.


    "What''re you doing!" Syme yelled.


    "Shut the hell up!" Ellen boomed.


    Everyone quieted down.


    "I''m sure you''re all curious, but I don''t think they want to be gawked like zoo animals," Syme explained. "So, get the hell away from here! I''ll have an assembly later. You can satisfy your curiosity there."


    As the rabble began to disband, Syme walked over to inspect the rescued prisoners. He squatted down next to a gaunt girl with brown hair, wrapped in some spare cloth.


    "Hello," he greeted, trying his best to smile. "How''s the food? I''m afraid we''re not much chefs."


    "I-it''s v-very good," she said shakily. "N-nothing, I-I''ve had nothing for... for..." She grimaced and drew the cloth closer against her.


    "If you wouldn''t mind, I''d like to ask you some questions."


    She was silent for a while, then croaked out a "sure".


    "Alright, feel free to ask me questions if you want too. Where were you originally from?"


    "O-oakly, it w-was a prep-school. We were all here one day, I d-don''t know how."


    "Where you attacked by Imps?¡ªer, that''s what we''re calling those creatures."


    She nodded.


    "Details?"


    "O-one day, they just came rushing in, w-we didn''t know what to do."


    "I did notice there were more girls than boys. Did any of the Imps, y''know, do that?"


    She shook her head.


    "I see. Is Oakly near here?"


    "I don''t know."


    "Were you send here immediately after capture or redirected?"


    "I-I''m not sure, w-we were blindfolded... but I don''t remember stopping."


    "Do you think Oakly still has students left in it?"


    She hesitated. "...I, I think so. I couldn''t see anything, but some of the others talked about being rescued by their friends, so..."


    He nodded. "That''s it for now. Is there anything you''d like to ask me?"


    She looked around. "Who are you people? Y-you''re have the same weapons, and those big shields... it looks like something right out of a m-movie. And y-you managed to beat them."


    "We arrived here from a school just like you did." He remembered his cover story. "Except for me, I wasn''t from here. My school ended up like yours, but I escaped. I stumbled over to here and warned them of the Imps. Then we armed and trained ourselves."


    "That''s amazing," she said. "W-we didn''t do anything like that. Everyone just kinda did their own thing, then, then..."


    A group of students came over with the medical supplies they brought. Cily was with them.


    "You have children with you?" the girl asked.


    Syme took off her hat, revealing her horns. "No, she''s an Imp."


    The girl''s eyes widened and she grew paler. Syme groaned. He''d forgotten that people react like that. Logically, it was natural to be scared of the race that captured and abused you. He made a mental note of it.


    "Er, sorry." Syme asked, standing up, dragging a confused Cily with him. "Come, Cily. Let''s, uh, not bother them anymore."


    "W-wait," she said, reaching out her hand.


    "Hm? What is it?"


    "N-name! What''s your name?"


    "Syme," he answered.


    She hesitated for a moment. "T-thank you, Syme, and, and everyone else here," she said, looking around. No, thank you, Syme thought, looking at the pitying eyes around him. He didn''t even have to lie.


    That night he gave a fairly robotic speech he made up mostly on the spot about the rescued prisoners, ending with a call for vengeance. Everyone cheered.

 8

    Syme spent the next few days traveling between the school and the new outpost. Until Bean finds something, it''ll be the only consistent source of water they''ll have, so they''ll have to fortify it. Walls were being built using bricks made from a sand-clay mixture from the area near the well. They had a few art students who helped with the molding and even a few apprentice carpenter''s, a rare sight at _, where the majority of students chose academia. Thanks to them, however, the walls actually stood straight.


    More than a few times he eyed Saul stalking around, a horrified look on his face, but he stormed off whenever they made eye contact.


    Of course, there were casualties on their side, and some of those were deaths. Syme knew he had to tread carefully. He spent many nights carefully planning the funerals¡ªlavish enough so that their loved ones were satisfied, but not so lavish that it taxed their resources too much. And of course, Syme was always there, always the sponsor, always ready to say a speech with as much sadness as he could emulate.


    The only problem was that he couldn''t force himself to cry. Eventually, after much convincing, he got Cily to punch him really hard in the stomach. That did it.


    He was still being watched, however, by someone more and more convinced that Syme was lying.


    Speaking of Cily, she could understand most things now, given context and body language to go with it. It was progress. She would be very useful later, when they advanced to the second stage, after he had consolidated their power and could bargain with the Chieftan. Syme smirked, his heart beating faster with exhilaration. And they would grow stronger, encroach more land, gain more power, more hatred, and then even the great Chieftan would be forced to kneel in front of Syme.


    It would take time, though. He had to take it slow.


    Bean met with him a few days later, bringing with him a copy of a rough map some students had drawn dotted with X''s. "They''re the places where there is likely underground aquifers within 50 to 100 meters of the surface," he explained.


    "Really? That many?" Syme said, surprised. There were at least 30 Xs on the map. "How do you know?"


    "Difference in electrical resistance between areas. I''d read about the UN using it in developing nations. Sorry, I used up quite a bit of electricity," Bean said sheepishly.


    "No, no, you did well. Have a well deserved rest. I''ll manage the rest," Syme said.


    This was critical. It must be kept with as much secrecy as possible. He folded it up and kept it in an inner pocket hidden inside a pant leg.


    There were now two main areas of development. Domestic¡ªto which the effort was mostly spent creating more elaborate systems to transfer water and finding some way to farm¡ªand foreign¡ªto which the object was finding Oakly.


    The council, Eran, Sue, Nime, and Saul, naturally led domestic developments. Syme focused on his military.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Finding Oakly proved to be difficult. Syme knew it had to be close, but even after diligently cross referencing testimony from the rescued Oakly students with the crude maps they had he still had no idea where it was. He started to train specialized scouts, the fastest runners at the school, to learn to run in the shifting sands. They were armed with nothing but pen and paper. No fighting allowed, just running and cartography.


    Their maps grew more and more detailed, extending roughly a 10 miles out in each direction from the school. Several scouts had reported sightings of Imps, but nothing conclusive came of it.


    Finally, they had a lucky break. A small group of Imps were spotted headed towards the conquered outpost, ignorant of its destructions. Syme immediately ordered for them to be surrounded and captured.


    He''d have Cily translate. It would be her first test as to whether she was bilingual enough to be useful.


    Their prisoners were tied to a stake. They were bloodied and looked dazed.


    "Cily, ask them if they''ll do what we say."


    Cily thought for a moment, then spoke some words. The Imps responded. "They... ask me, why with Favored," she said to Syme.


    "Ignore that," Syme said, shaking his head. "Tell them that if they don''t tell us what we need to know, we''ll kill them."


    The Imps croaked something out, then spat on the ground.


    "Favored weak, can''t kill," Cily translated.


    "Favored?" someone asked.


    "That''s what they call humans," Syme answered. "Seems they''re as stubborn as ever," he muttered, turning to the defiant prisoners.


    He sighed, then grabbed a spear out of a startled student''s hands and stabbed it through one of the Imps arms, causing it to cry out. Many of the students around him winced, but didn''t say anything. "Ask him again, Cily."


    She said more, then shook her head at Syme. He ripped the spear out of the Imps arm, then stabbed it through its neck, warm blood gushing onto the other captured Imps. It thrashed for a bit, then went limp.


    "Hey," one of the students said nervously, "uh, isn''t this a little...?"


    "A little what?" Syme replied with genuine curiosity.


    "Er, never mind," the student sheepishly replied.


    "Cily, ask them again."


    This time, the Imps, clearly shocked, took a while to respond. Cily nodded at Syme.


    "Good, good. Ask them if they know any big, square buildings with a lot of Favored in it."


    "Favored building, one close, uh, northeast."


    "Are there any Favored still in it?"


    "Favored still there, walls very hard, almost through."


    "I see," Syme said, thinking. "We''ll need to mobilize immediately, then. Come on Cily, let''s go."


    "Uh, what about the, er, Imps here?" someone asked.


    "Keep them tied up for now, I''ll figure something out later," Syme said.