Slumbering Legends

Maryl was shaken awake by the bump of the train car, causing her head to clang painfully against the bars of the cage that surrounded her. Stifling a yelp, she brought up her chained hands to gently rub the spot that had been hit. Maryl peeked out the window, past the man that sat next to her, to see the vast desert of orange and iron that they were currently travelling through. They had been on the train for three days now, along with however many other people their captors had gathered from the outer colonies. Maryl was surprised she had managed to get some sleep, as most of the other prisoners were generally cantankerous. She shifted in her seat to a better position as the man beside her stirred. Of all the prisoners on the train, there were three different types that Maryl had noticed. One, the majority of them, were the loud, the angry, and the confrontational. Most of these people were criminals, being transported from one prison camp to the prison in the capitol, which is more secure. The second type were like her; children, elderly, and those that were ill. The children and elderly were being sent to the capitol to be put into work camps, something that Maryl dreaded from the stories she’d heard. Maryl didn’t know where the ill went, as no one would give her a straight answer when she had asked. The third type, and whom Maryl believed the man sitting next to her to be, were veterans. Those who had fought during the Great War and had survived, but unfortunately had fought on the losing side. The victors banished them to the outer colonies, but every so often would bring some of them back into the capitol as prisoners. To what end, Maryl did not know, but it couldn’t be anything good.

A few hours passed by, the rambunctious group of prisoners getting quiet as the day neared noon, or at least that’s what Maryl assumed. She could see very little shadows outside, which told her that the sun was probably nearing its zenith, which is something her father taught her. Each day, around this time, the train became almost unbearably warm, and many of the prisoners had to be cautious if they sat on an inside seat. The exterior of the train was made of metal, and anyone sitting next to a window not only got a heaping amount of the heat, but if their bare skin made contact with the wall there was a good chance of getting burned. It was around this time as well that some of the guards made their way down the aisles, bringing the daily allowance of water. This was, for the most part, the one thing that the guards found to quiet the dissenters for a while; they bring one bucket of water with them and two cups. Stopping at each cage, they unlock it, fill the cups, hand them to the two prisoners in that cage and wait. Once the prisoners have finished drinking, the guards take the cups back and re-lock the cage. If at any point a prisoner tries to escape, or gets aggressive, the guards will take the cups back and ‘accidentally’ spill the remaining bucket, leaving everyone without water for the day. The prisoners, at least; the guards have made it very clear that where they stay there is plenty of water to go around. In combination with the extreme heat, this has caused even the rowdiest of prisoners to quiet themselves when the guards bring the water around. The sound of a rusted iron door slamming open and the metallic banging of the water bucket silenced the rest of the prisoners. Maryl’s cage was near the front of the car, which meant that she was served water close to last. She could already feel her dry throat ache in anticipation, every swallow scratching like the sand of the desert outside. The sounds of metal caused the man beside Maryl to stir, his head slowly rising as he took in his environment. Maryl could now get a better look at him. The man was in his late forties, his hair a smattering of brown and some gray, his eyes a burnt hazel. He was fairly clean shaven, with the only stubble being what he had probably grown since getting aboard the train. This struck Maryl as strange, as in the outer colonies most sharp grooming tools were strictly forbidden and very heavily monitored. He looked over at Maryl, who started, and then over to the window and stared out into the sandy wastes for a good minute. He then let out a long sigh, and shifted his sitting position to one that Maryl recognized; it was a position she had seen her father sit in a lot when they went through their daily roll call. It was the posture of a veteran.

The guards finally made their way to Maryl’s cage, the first one dragging the large bucket of water along and the second following closely behind. The guards wore simple leather jackets that were overlaid with leather straps that had metal spikes protruding outwards. They wore strange gas masks that looked like they shouldn’t be able to breathe through, but they never seemed hindered. Strapped around one shoulder was a military grade assault rifle; something that Maryl had seen many times carried by the guards in the outer colonies. Remnants from the Great War, Maryl wondered how much ammunition they could actually have on them, given that the war factories had long been abandoned and dysfunctional. No one dared to test their luck, though. As the guards approached their cage, Maryl noticed that their posture grew more guarded, and the rear guard seemed to be eyeing the man next to her with a cautious look. His hand seemed to twitch slightly closer to the trigger of the rifle strapped to his chest, and the other hand tightened its grip on the front barrel. The other guard began scooping water into the cups, unlocked the cage and handed the cups to Maryl and the man. The man barely sipped his, and even seemed to be waiting for Maryl to finish hers. When she finished, and handed the cup back to the guard, there was a flash of movement behind her. Maryl let out a yelp, seeing the man quickly shift forward towards the cage door. Both guards immediately fell over backwards, the closest one tripping over the water bucket, knocking it to the floor. The sound of water splashing and pouring down towards the front of the car sent a wave of groans and yells from the cages in front of Maryl. The guards quickly got back up, the man beside Maryl grinning with almost impish glee. The one that had tripped over the bucket quickly stepped forward and slammed the butt of the rifle into the man’s face, causing a slight cracking sound to echo nearby. The man grabbed his nose, but his smile didn’t fade at all. The two guards huffed, re-locked the cage, grabbed the empty bucket and walked to the back of the car, slamming the door shut behind them. Maryl instinctually reached up and touched the locket that was draped around her neck, a souvenir from her father. It had a brass chain that connected to a heart shaped molding of gold and platinum metal, a major rarity in the current world. If any of the guards were to ever find it, they would take it for sure. Luckily, it rested just beneath the collar of Maryl’s shirt, so it couldn’t be seen unless they removed her clothes. Maryl quickly stopped and turned to the man, who was currently using his already sullied shirt to mop up the blood that was stemming from his nose.

“Why would you do that?” Maryl whispered, shifting herself around to face him.

“Well,” he started, pulling out the cup that he had kept to his side, “mainly for this.”

Maryl watched as he ran his fingers over it, pushing here and there. It seemed like he was trying to find something on the cup itself, though Maryl didn’t know what.

“I apologize if that frightened you,” the man started, still running his hand over the cup. “Ever since they’ve brought me aboard, they’ve been giving me a wide berth. Not terribly sure why.”

Maryl watched him for a minute longer, seeing that the places he’d been pushing on the cup had started to bend inward.

“It’s okay, it just caught me off guard is all,” she eventually sighed, allowing her hands to relax a little. “But they’re afraid of you because you’re a veteran, aren’t you?”

The question hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity, though it was probably only around twenty seconds or so. The man stopped fiddling with the cup long enough to answer.

“I suppose it could be because of that. My name does carry some weight in the right circles. I used to be a commander of one of the main forces for the Halcyon core, though that seems like an eternity gone now.”

Maryl had a sharp intake of breath at the mention of Halcyon, the side of the war that had lost. Her grandparents were both casualties of that war, as was her mother. She remembered her father spending as much time as he could at their graves, before the soldiers came to occupy the outer territories. Maryl remembered one day they had caught her father at the graves, and as punishment, destroyed them. It wasn’t long after that that her father gave Maryl this locket, saying it was handed down from his grandparents and parents and now it needs to be hers, a final parting gift from her mother.

“I’m sorry you had to live through that,” Maryl started, resisting the urge to fiddle with the locket again. “My father told me about some of the things that happened during the war. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you all.”

The man gave her a look that she couldn’t quite place, somewhere a mix between sadness, gratefulness, and curiosity. They remained silent for a few minutes, pressing more into the cup, which by now no longer resembled a cup but a mass of metal instead.

“What was your father’s name, if you don’t mind me asking?” the man said eventually, raising the cup up to the window to use what light was remaining in the sky to observe it. Maryl hadn’t realized, but it was already starting to get dark outside. She pulled the wool sweater that they had allowed her to bring along from beside her and began wrapping it around herself.

“H-his name….is Arthur. Arthur Legroth.”

The man turned towards her quickly, the sparkle of recognition in his eyes, followed by a quiet moment of thinking.

“So he’s alive then,” the man sighed, a look of relief passing over his face. “That’s good to hear. And that would make you Maryl, then, I presume?”

Maryl’s eyes widened with shock, and she could only nod in response. The man shifted his posture, sitting up with more dignity, and looked back at Maryl.

“Then it is wonderful to meet you, Maryl. I am Theo Newton, commander of the Ossam forces of the Halcyon alliance. Former, I suppose now. I knew your mother, Katherine, and also your grandparents, William and Florence. It was a sad day when we lost them.”

Maryl was listening, but also starting to pull back. She didn’t like to remember the day she lost her grandparents, but she also wanted to know more. Theo looked at her again and seemed to understand how she felt.

“I’m sorry for digging up those memories, but if you ever want to hear more about them I’d be happy to tell you stories,” Theo said softly, leaning back in his seat. Maryl nodded and began to draw herself in, as the temperature began to drop. The past few days had shown Maryl just how severe the weather here can be, with the extreme heat during the day and the extreme cold at night. Maryl laid her head down in the spot she’d found a couple days ago, and tried to find some rest amidst the clamor of prisoners in the train car.

Maryl was jolted awake when the noise of the other prisoners became extreme, as well as Theo shaking her shoulder. She quickly sat up straight, looking over to Theo for an answer, to which he simply pointed out the window. Outside, Maryl could see the outer barrier of the main capital city, Axiom. Large, thick struts of metal welded together to form a partial dome-like barrier around the entrance. The train tracks looked like they would enter about fifty feet beneath the lip of the wall. Behind the large metal wall, Maryl could barely make out the tops of buildings; rusted browns and bronzes from what scraps could be gathered after the war. As the unrest of the prisoners grew louder, Maryl heard several loud barks from some guards that had begun walking up and down the aisle, trying to keep them quiet as they approached the city. The sound of screeching brakes could be heard reverberating throughout the train car as their speed began to slow, the shadow of the wall beginning to overtake their vision. Theo began to sit up straighter, his legs moving into a position that would allow him to stand quickly. Maryl could see a slight glimmer of metal in his hand; a reshaped cup that he must have been working on overnight. It now resembled a crude dagger, something that sent a slight chill up Maryl’s spine. She gave Theo a look and a slight head shake, hoping he wouldn’t use it here. Theo smiled and shook his head, giving her a look that told her he wasn’t planning anything yet, but soon. The train slowed to a crawl and with a loud fwoosh, jerked to a stop. Maryl could hear a good number of clangs against cages, as the prisoners were slammed against their bars, causing a quick rousing of groans and shouts. The prisoners began to quiet as Maryl heard loud footsteps echo down the aisle. Guards began to unlock the cages and prisoners began to step out of them, just at the edge of the aisle. Behind them walked a hulking figure; at least six foot seven, the leather straps seeming to strain against the bulk of his muscles. He carried no rifle, but the heft of his presence made Maryl quite sure that he didn’t need one. The man walked slowly down the aisle, seeming to eye every prisoner as he passed, including Maryl and Theo; the latter of whom he seemed to eye with intensity. As he moved past their cage, Maryl noticed a large, black scabbard attached to his back, with an ornate hilt sticking out of it. She looked over to Theo to see if he had also seen the weapon, and saw a look of pure terror passing through his face at that moment. Maryl didn’t have time to question it as a loud buzzer rang overhead, and the guards began escorting the prisoners down the aisle towards the exit of the train car.

Outside of the train, the air became damp and cool. They were underground somewhere, the floor here made out of slated stone. As the line of prisoners and guards moved forward, Maryl could hear the echoing of footsteps bound off of the metal walls. Ahead, a light grew larger as the group began to ascend a staircase. Looking up, Maryl could see the staircase open up to daylight, as the group exited the underground station into a large main square. Buildings rose up around them like pillars; obelisks of stone and metal that managed to survive the Great War. In the square, a large raised dias had been constructed, and the guards began to move everyone in front of it. After a few tense minutes of low-volume chattering, the prisoners quickly quieted as multiple figures entered into view on the platform. Behind them, a large cylindrical object was being pulled along, and set down with a loud thud. Maryl was close enough to the platform that her view was partially obstructed, and she could only see the man that stepped forward. He was fairly old, possibly in his late sixties, with gray hair tied into a ponytail behind his head and a fairly well kept beard. His eyes shone with a deep forest green, and he wore an outfit that seemed almost arrogant in its design. Maryl knew that this must be the leader of this group, or maybe of the whole winning side of the war. The man looked across the sea of prisoners and smiled, stretching his arms out wide.

“Welcome! I’m so glad you all made it safe and well. My name is Karanzo, and I run things around here. You’ve been chosen to help us expand out the city and develop new ways for us to live! I’m sure many of you are not happy to be here, and I understand. But I hope that as you work for us, you can change that perspective, as I would love to have you all become a part of our society!”

Karanzo’s words echoed across the prisoners. Many seemed disinterested, rolled their eyes and some even attempted to give the finger, but stopped when the guard raised the butt of the gun threateningly. Maryl could see that Theo had no faith in what Karanzo was saying, but he was paying very close attention to it nonetheless.

“With your help, we can reclaim what we lost during the war, and even bring our world back better than before! I know many of you do not believe me, and are skeptical of our claims, but I brought our proof with me today.”

Karanzo gestured behind him, and Maryl pushed herself backwards enough to see what he had pointed towards. Two guards that had been standing behind him pulled off a large curtain that was draped over this cylindrical object. Once it fell, Maryl got a good glimpse of what was underneath. A large, glass cylinder attached to many wires, cables, and other unknown metal pieces stood before them. The glass was frosted over with ice, and even in this heat seemed untouched by anything around it. The glass had just enough clear on the surface to see inside of it, and what Maryl saw caused her to start. A boy, not much older than her, sat suspended within this cylinder. Sandy brown hair, light freckling of the cheeks and pale skin. His eyes were closed, but something told Maryl that he was alive. As she looked closer, she focused on his face, and that’s when she felt it. She sat, frozen in shock, because it didn’t make sense. But she knew she had felt it. As she peered into the frozen cylinder, at this boy her age, she could feel the locket around her neck pulse, ever so gently. Like a heartbeat.