Tearha: Deck of Clover

Chapter Thirty-Three: Sacrifice, Part Three

The war against the unspawns had many names. The official one was The 2nd War of God. But elsewhere, it was known as the Exseed War. Or in lesser circles, The Quiet Invasion.

The Quiet Invasion never caught on as the name was said to undermine how severe the battles were. But it was named so, as unlike conventional battles, there were no sound of clashing swords of whizzing arrows. No steel on steel or steel on blood. Just crackling flames and people screaming. Unspawns did not interact with the physical world the same way. Theirs steps did not crack. Their swings did not whistle. The only time you knew you were being attacked was when you heard the cracking of your ribs.

Pempe was nine when the war came to its end. Back then, he did not realize what was happening. At least, not long until the battle was over. For the most part, he stayed hidden in his home and only glimpsed the world outside through curdling screams.

"Grandmama," he asked out. "What's happening?"

The world outside their house sounded like a natural disaster. A raging inferno broiling through or a storm washing over. It was not a battle. Just an everyday terrible day. His grandmother, a spirited 65 year old nurse on a cane, hobbled quickly from one point in the building to another, hurriedly bringing supplies of food and water to the storeroom he hid in.

"It's all fine," his grandmother replied, her head popping out the corner of the doorway with a smile. "Everything will be fine."

He still worried. He wasn't scared, just worried. "Where are mom and dad?"

"They'll be back soon. Until then, I want you to stay in here, okay?" She began closing the storeroom door.

"Wait!" he yelled, and she paused. "Grandmama, where are you going? Aren't you staying with me?"

She smiled. "I'm going out there. People need my help."

"But... isn't it dangerous?"

The old woman giggled and opened the door again. She knelt down next to him and patted his head. "Of course it is. But you want to be a good Spellblade when you grow up, right?"

He nodded.

"Then remember this. If you want to help people, always run towards the screaming. That's where help is needed the most."

"Isn't there someone else? Why must it be you?"

"Of course there's someone else. But someone else won't always be there. And it's always good to have more people helping than less." She ruffled his hair. "You're a good kid, Pemp. I'm sure you'll understand once you're older."

***

"Pempe? Pempe!"

He jumped. The world came back to him as he retook in the scene of the tunnels and the booming cheers from the outside. Winter had come and gone. The air in the tunnels were starting to thicken with humidity as they transitioned from winter to leaf and soon to sear. A sweet muddy smell of life for the season seeped through the wall as freshly melted snow misted the air.

"Sorry," he replied. "I was... somewhere else."

Opposite him was Kingston, who looked on with raised brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just, a little out of it."

His friend smiled. "I spoke with Sik Rehiy. He said that if you're really that uncomfortable with calling the shots, you can sit that responsibility out. I can take over for you."

"Really?" Pempe replied, surprised. "Do you want to?"

Kingston laughed. "Not really. Giving orders is not really my thing But someone's got to do it, if not you."