Death of a Human Heart
by L.L. Abbott
The Forbidden World Chronicles
Puzzle Pieces ~ The Warring Years
[WARNING: Some strong language]
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by ~shadagishvili
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from his eyes came
subtle acknowledgement
from her eyes falls
As Eternity’s Historian long ago penned, these were now the final days of the Forbidden World’s Last Ground Battle. But once won—as the Allies still hoped to duplicate—no one left to this world will remember it ever having been fought.
Having successfully completed an extensive cross-country advance, Dellasseea N’Syis and the Allied Forces, were positioned mere days from what they trusted to be the vicinity of the Tunnels of Life and Death. This time the FirstBorn Daughter must push her privileged feelings aside and close The Doorway forever. There will be no return to this world; no coming through what is to be left of its boundaries.
Rain fell hard upon the ground the night Aukasaunon used it to his advantage; when he lead the army that raged the first time the Allies fought their way home. It is the same rain-laden night; but Gaallon now heads the army that just launched two rounds of anti-aircraft missiles into their encampment. Simultaneous explosions sent up yellow-orange plumes into a moonless sky.
Never expecting others to fight the necessary battles for her, Dellasseea could always be found at the front of the skirmishes. Flanked by two of her guardians she cried out suddenly and shrank to the wet ground. Pivoting slowly, her back hit hard against the cold steel of the armored vehicle behind which they took up point. With an M21 still in her hands, she sat quiet.
“Are you hit?” Khy-Lin questioned over his shoulder. Weapon still at the ready.
When she did not respond, he turned in concern. “Lady…”
Mud splattered when he kneeled down quick alongside of her. He looked frantically for a sign to indicate whether or not she’d taken a hit. Lionheart kept to his position but looked back to question her safety. Khy-Lin raised his free hand but said nothing as he watched her eyes stare seemingly at nothing. Listening. Ringlets of wet hair lined Dellasseea's face, and with the exception of the flutter of her eyelids hit by the occasional raindrop, she sat motionless.
“What?” Khy-Lin stressed it more as an impatient statement, rather than a question.
Slowly, Dellasseea moved her head back and forth. Her lips parted; just barely. Not knowing how to answer.
“Perrie!” Lionheart called sharply.
His eyes remained fixed on the frontline. And his familiarity barely registered as her breath became more labored.
“We don’t have time for god damn twenty questions, Woman…” he continued as enemy rounds tested their marks.
“No …” she replied in a heavily drawn breath—trying to decipher who and/or what she felt, “no one— is answering my...”
‘What the Fuck’s going on back there?’ Lionheart VoiceThought in anger. ‘Something just took her heart down.’
“Roth!” Khy-Lin took him to task sternly.
Though they had skilled code-talkers among them; technological communication was tricky and difficult to maintain without detection. Tech-heads were valuable and well protected on both sides. Those with the power of Voice-Thought, knew to use their ability sparingly. Contrary to what the masses perceived as being able to ‘read another’s mind,’ it's nothing truly more than a non-physical language. It’s simply the ability to hear what another is saying; not knowing what another is thinking. Which is an entirely different matter altogether. Unfortunately, it is also an open channel her enemy had no shame using to their advantage.
Dellasseea looked to Khy-Lin knowing only that something had just gone very terribly wrong. Both sensed a sudden overwhelming concern— but shared no pain from anyone bound directly to her heart. And no one replied despite her inquiry.
Knowing Khy-Lin had also inquired—though with decidedly more discretion—Dellasseea looked him hard in the eye; just in case she missed hearing a response directed to him. When his eyes and head fell away, she rose from the ground. His infamous reputation for not being able to keep certain of things from her knowing made it certain that no one had.
“Roth.”
Lionheart turned abruptly when he heard his name from behind. Unless he was remembered and/or recognized from before the warring years, most didn’t know him by any other name. She was the only one he allowed to use his given name.
“I need to know what’s wrong.”
Her urgency was undeniable. And he knew he’d regret the developing notion, but he couldn’t refuse her. Lionheart rarely left her side. By her order or request only, would any of her personal guardians even consider doing so— and this didn’t seem the time or place to leave his charge to Fate. Then again, he knew she wouldn’t let the matter rest. Then again— he also knew better than to discount his own growing sense of Deja-Vu.
She would be safe enough. It’s why he and Khy-Lin chose this spot. With the exception of the Dusters that just whooshed over-head, they’d only taken small arms fire for the last two hours. Not even an RPG. They'd rigged the military-issue hum-V with additional drop-down armored side panels. At their backs stood an old radio station built of reinforced cinder block. Khy-Lin acknowledged Lionheart’s hesitation and nodded for him to go; indicating he could see to her safety.
With that, and a run of his fingers up and through his tousled hair, taking it away from his face, Lionheart ordered his charge to, “Stay put!” Pointing a do-what-I-tell-you finger. “Do you hear me?”
Dellasseea didn’t question the determination behind his instruction, but offered instead, “I don’t die here, Roth!”
He knew how easily just one thing could change the course of the future. “Like knowing that’s of any comfort to me!”
Hesitating as he stood, Dellasseea gave orders for him to, “Go!”
With another run of his fingers through his hair, Lionheart turned and edged his way past the heavily armored duce and-a-half, to make his trek back toward base camp. Dellasseea rose to watch after him. Only when he jumped down and disappeared into the rain washed ravine did she begin to distinguish the moment, and know that the first of their troops that he came upon, he'd send back here to take his place.
She appreciated the worried look on his face and gifted him with what she could form of a smile. His long, dirty blonde hair fell back into his eyes and he shook his head to ward-off "those cow eyes" of hers. Watching his every move, Lionheart rushed through a check of his rifle and then he reached for an extra magazine. Stuffing it in to a field pocket he then ripped apart the hook-n-loop straps to tighten his well-worn flak jacket. As he finished, he bent to pick up the M-47 Dragon, and handed it over to Khy-Lin.
Hesitating as he stood, Dellasseea gave orders for him to, “Go!”
With another run of his fingers through his hair, Lionheart turned and edged his way past the heavily armored duce and-a-half, to make his trek back toward base camp. Dellasseea rose to watch after him. Only when he jumped down and disappeared into the rain washed ravine did she begin to distinguish the moment, and know that the first of their troops that he came upon, he'd send back here to take his place.
Blessings, LL Abbott
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Caged Heart--The Last Heartbound / The Forbidden World Chronicles ~L.L. Abbott
Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved -- Current Draft
Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved -- Current Draft
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