Battles Beyond (Book 1: The Fleeing Saga)

Defence & Troupe Talk (18)

You have certainly improved, but you do have some ways to go.

Sir, A question came out of him. Why you talking to me? I thought you preferred to talk to Mezamica Um with this kinda stuff.

Well, he left for his mission already so I didn't want to disturb him.

Oh. I didn't know that he had left. But sir, I wanted to ask you about something. What was the thing you were carrying? You don't use weapons to fight. And your eyes as well. It was like staring at a completely different lifeform.

I was like that? I can't recall what happened for most of the battle.

I see. It affects memories.

Did you say something?

I said that the Hospuk affected your memory.

That's an old legend. No one believes that.

But yet I do. I made an inquiry to everyone in the Defence Force if they knew anything about it in detail and only one came forward. It was someone named Roko. I hope that's his correct name. I can get bad with them on occasion. When I explained to him what I saw, he told me about this famed creature. How it had a roar to bend the clouds at its will. And long ago, it was slain by powerful beings from a world strange and advanced, allowing its soul to haunt the skies above Earth, waiting for their return.

Interesting. Did he say any more?

No, that was all he knew. By far the most knowledgeable with this topic. Have to do some research on this creature. He was itching to learn more about what many thought was fiction.

No wonder I felt so bad after the fight. Its power was definitely hard to control. He nodded.

I should let you get back to work, Ees. Best you get to researching the Hospuk.

I will, sir.

SOME DAYS LATER

No matter how strong, valiant, cunning, or lucky, 'retirement’ always came. For Das, this was his time. Ippe had his urn filled with his cremated ashes sent to his home village years ago, but his uniform couldn't retire... until now. The scavengers took everything they could post-battle, leaving him bare to the elements for his colleagues to find.

The Defence Force could finally pay respects now, but not publically. This was a private affair. In his room, Ippe dressed in his finest clothes. He had Das’ uniform in his arms, already laminated in a photo frame, and said these words, "Das, with the Bar Code Identification Number 036765978, by the command of the Supreme General of the Defence Force, you are now retired posthumously." The other two also had their retirements, but public ones. He didn't care for them. They were unknowns that had average careers.

They were part of a large memorial at Grand Station's highest floor called the Wall of the Fallen. Space was running low because of the many killed in action despite it being a huge hallway where each uniform had a lens beneath them to display the face of those deceased. Tall flower vases stood at set places to lighten the sombreness. There was also food, drink, clothes, and even ammunition and firearms as decorations and offerings. This memorial was distant enough from the conflict to not sustain any serious damage.

He placed it on the wall far from his bed and stared at it with a blank expression. Ippe knew he was a prodigy. If nurtured well, he could've helped turn the tide of the Minority War. But what could one do? Misery liked to come hard and fast to destroy hopes and dreams. He sat on his inversion table to imagine the great victories he could've had with Das. That was all he wanted out of him. But he had to move on. The war continued long without him.