Edith
"Why the sh*t would my sister and brother murder him?" Edith snarls. The council members still think she's in denial. But who wouldn't be in this scenario?
"My brother Darrion said Aviva's close friends were suspecting her of distancing herself," Everett informs the Legion's Council, leaning forward in his chair with his elbows on the table, his hands folded. "She might've been doing that so she could ensure her emotions for her friends would not get in the way."
"Kyler though, he was our most important navigator and knew all the best places to scavenge, and he had shown no thirst for power or any desire to overthrow his own father with patricide." Edith refutes.
"Edith, dear," Yolanda Bills, a dark-skinned woman with the position of storage and supply management (also an offerer of insight), grasps the hand of Edith. "I know losing a family member is beyond hard, and then having your remaining family be accused of the murder that caused that death. But what your father would do? He'd carry on. Seek justice in a patient manner with logical reason a common companion throughout any dilemma. Edith, befriend logic."
Edith's fingers twitched under Yolanda's warm, gentle hand. She withdraws her own hand from the table and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. "Yes, fine."
"What is to be done first, Commandress?" Another council member inquires, leaning forward in his seat.
"First of all," Edith says. "I want to establish that 'Commandress' is not a word." Aviva would be infuriated at that stupid use of English.
The council member slumps back in his seat. "I pride myself on making new words, My Lady. Perhaps it may be documented a new term in an archive?"
The record-keeper, Sunna Kjort, shakes her head. "Nope, never. Not while you use the so-called word of 'histericatacular.'"
Edith rolls her eyes. "I'm in agreement with Miss Kjort, Mr. Lark." She sighs, exasperated. "We bury my father while we send out search parties—each reasonable in number and armed in case of outside intrusion." Edith stands and so does the rest of the council. "Are we all okay with this decision?"
Words of agreement resound around the room.
"Good. Please, put this into action with the Legionaries, Head Legionnaire Alexandra." Edith nods to a tan woman with dark hair, who nods in return, her face a stony serious expression.
"This Council meeting is adjourned. We'll continue with a progress briefing every day forward."
-------
Ember
So Aviva is under suspicion for murder because she was reported to have been soulless for the days leading up to the murder.
I certainly did my job Nat asked of me.
That was sarcasm, by the way.
...
Anyway...
Joanna is furious and Nat shocked but seems to believe it to be true despite not wanting it to be real at all. I feel the same way. I don't want this to be the reality. Aviva is a close friend to quite a few people and a good acquaintance of mine.
And Kyler? I've never met him before, so I wouldn't ever know what his behavior is or was like. I just know he might be a scavenging organizer that knows every nook and cranny of the Legion's buildings, along with the knowledge of where the best, yet-to-have-been-looted spots are.
Maybe it's no wonder they disappeared without much of a trace.
Nat didn't attend archery until the class was almost over for the day. He's late. And Joanna is murdering her target, lodging arrows so deep into the things that it took me and Mr. Hunter all of our combined strength to pull them all out.
Betrayal is a strong, unfriendly feeling. And it's everywhere here.
But I could only think of when I could slip away to go search for Aviva myself—find out what's happening. And my daydreams hope she says that either it was Kyler or that she'd come back to the Legion to accept fate cooperatively. But that sounds all stupid and excluding of facts.
I just want answers. And for everyone's negative feelings and emotions to come to a complete stop.
I plan on improvising. That's the final verdict. I have told Hunter that I have been struck with a shockwave of mournful melancholy, that denial has been uprooted as the rains of sadness seep into the soils of my heart.
Sounds believable, right?
It worked, at least. Hunter is only smart for Archery.
------
With my archery getup and a knife, I start to sneak out.
I open the door slowly in an attempt to not wake Joanna. As it creaks open, my eyes flit from the hallway to Jo's sleeping figure. She's dead asleep. Good. Us teens value restful sleep. Jo won't be willingly awoken until late morning.
I peer out into the dark hallway, grabbing my flashlight that protrudes from a bottle holder in my backpack. I slide the button to a light glow so that is isn't too bright to wake the other quartered Legion members in the area.
I make my way down the stairs as quiet as humanly possible, afraid of the school hall's echo. Legionaries should be doing their patrols. I'm getting away with this barely with immense luck.
I traipse down the hall, feeling stealthy and confident. My eyes twinkle with self-pride until—
"You should be back in your quarter if you don't have a shift to attend to." A familiar voice says behind me. I turn around reluctantly, feeling slightly defeated until I shine my flashlight on the Legionary in front of me. He shines his flashlight on me too. His face lights up with recognition.
Mine does too. It's that Legionnaire that I pulled aside two nights ago, on the night of Leader Ethan's murder.
"Aren't you the newest member?" He asks skeptically, unsure of his information's credibility.
"Yeah, my name's Ember Dixon," I answer simply. "Can you pretend you never saw me?"
The Legionnaire raises an eyebrow. "Why?" He queries.
"I—" I stammer. I don't know if I should actually tell him. But I'm already suspicious enough and I don't want to be a suspect or thought of as an accomplice to the rogue Mercers. I best tell him the truth then.
"I'm going to look for Aviva," I whisper. My voice carries across the space between us to him, though; I can tell by his ever-growing quizzical look. "I'm a master of persuasion and words," sort of a lie there... "And I'm also a friend of her too, I can try to find her and talk her into coming back. I—it's hard to explain. I'm going to find some answers. She'll never talk to anyone else, besides her friends who don't trust her anymore." I hope this is a sufficient explanation. Otherwise, I'm screwed.
The Legionnaire nods. I feel myself momentarily relax. "I trust you, Ember. I don't know why, but you seem honorable." He admits and I stifle a smile. "I know Kyler. If you can find him too, tell him I wish he'd come back—sort things out and explain his side of things."
I grin. "I'm happy to see you're a reasonable thinker."
"Same to you, Ember." He says before smiling and rounding a corner to proceed with his patrol route. But he stops for a moment to say, "Darrion ditched his guard post in the courtyard to go to a slumber party."
"Thanks," I smirk. Wow.
I beam and whirl around, facing a door leading to the annex that leads to the courtyard where I'll scale the part of the wall Darrion left to unguarded.
If all goes well, I'll get out unseen.
-------
I've been trekking away from the Legion base since before dawn, and it's about noon now. I use a small compass to keep track of where it is--hidden in the trees to the East of my location.
At times, I risked yelling her name out, which either succeeded in attracting a walker to me or did absolutely nothing for my search.
During my aimless hike, I theorized more reasons that proved Aviva innocent. Like the fact that Aviva is too smart of a planner to arrange a usurpation in a way that results in her being hunted down and opposed by the people she would rule as a result of a usurpation. And she was already in one of the highest seats of power, she was her father's advisor. She helped him make decisions--had an influence!
It makes no sense for her to do what she was blamed for.
My stomach rumbles faintly. I decide I'm not hungry enough to eat a granola bar for lunch yet, which I acquired from not eating my rations and saving up the food in the case of going outside the protection of the Legion's walls for survival. I wasn't about to let what happened to the prison happen to the Legion.
I lean back against the tree. I've been walking mostly non-stop, so a break should be allowed at this point.
I grab a plastic water bottle from my backpack pocket and take a small sip in an effort to conserve it for as long as possible. I swallow the water, which is grossly warm. I twist the white, plastic cap back onto the transparent bottle and shove it back into my backpack.
"Ember? Ember Dixon?"
A voice says behind me. I grip my knife it its sheath as I turn around to face the person behind the familiar, boyish voice.
It's my old friend.
"Jacks," I grin. "Oh, my gosh, what the hell?"
----------------------------
This was a long one. Sorry.
-Katie
Zaremareth