There exists an island scorched by the sun; an island far from any other; an island that sticks out like a tulip in a rose garden. On that very island, a complex series of events is just waiting to unfold.
In a large concrete dormitory, about as tall as a white oak and wide as it is tall threefold; surrounded by a stunning park with beautiful ponds and trees not dissimilar to that of a nature reserve, lived a girl:
"Quinn! You best come here this instant!", these words, given from the voice of fury unlike no other, echo across the halls, a voice alike only to chalk scraping on a blackboard.
The sounds of heavy, swift footsteps are wafted throughout the halls, as if running from a grave danger.
"Can you explain yourself?", the wicked voice asked, "Not only did you fail your cultural history exam, but you got an admonishment by the principal. I am not pleased, Quinn, not in the slightest." said a woman, her stature that of a pine tree, her form thin as ice, her graying hair cut just before the scalp -- nothing could terrify the poor girl more. Her expression was nothing short of warlike.
"But Lady Ju-" Quinn said before being ever-so rudely interrupted by a sudden sharp pain on her cheek and shock running through her body, these same feelings reminding her why she shan't be disrespectful.
"But what, Quinn?", she replied, "Whom are you addressing?", the woman added, as if Quinn was nothing more than a soldier, an inferior.
"Yes, Madam Legate, excuse my insolence. None of what we had studied was on the exam we were given," she said, bashful and solemn, her voice soft and delicate, similar to the sound of a harp; her ears still ringing as if one had been played right beside her.
"Excuses," the Legate said, "You should've asked your teacher!" she scoffed, "What of that horrid admonishment?"
"I got into an altercation -- A boy, none older than me, none better than me, kept badmouthing me in front of the whole academy-" Quinn, still timid, replied and before she could even finish her sentence, she was cut off yet again.
"So, you hit him?!" she said, surprised, expecting Quinn to have more control, "Of your own volition? You, of all people, should know better! A good soldier follows orders," she looked as if she was hesitant to say anything after that, her tone lowered yet still commanding she said, "To your room, you are to come next crowsflight to the grounds for training."
An awkward length of silence had ensued before Quinn left for her room, feeling a slight sense of relief for not receiving any extra punishment.
As the sun had sunk and the moon had risen, a murder of crows had passed just between the two celestial bodies. The island's augur read this as a tale of "fortune for the next morn" , ringing the bell announcing the last crowsflight of the day had passed.
Quinn hurriedly shuffled in between the other legionaries. Standing alone between the ranks as the youngest, yet most experienced, spearbearer. The chattering between the others had come to a sudden halt, and that wretched voice roared yet again.
"You are late," Legate July, the blood-curdling woman who had been all but a caretaker to Quinn, drew her dagger, pointed it toward the poor girl and singled her out.
All the other legionaries dispersed, leaving Quinn standing in the centre alone.
"Can you expect the enemy to wait for you?! Do you think they will delay their hate for you?" she continued, "Though, I guess this could be considered a surprise attack," she said sarcastically to Quinn, "Get back into formation, pay attention to your duties, work double-time."
As they were getting back into formation, Cass, a slightly older and taller girl, covered head to toe in worn down steel armour, got closer toward Quinn and whispered:
"So~, you're not gonna vote for her at the forum tomorrow, right?"
Quinn tried to ignore her, acting still as a stone as to not upset the Legate.
Cass tried to spark the conversation yet again, she said, "Come on Brut-", before Quinn hastily stopped her mid-sentence,
"Stop it Cass, you know I don't like that nickname," and added, "No. I won't vote for her."
"Thank the law," Cass said, "Oh, and if you're up for it Q. Declan, Trev' and me are gon' sneak out tonight a pay a lil' 'visit' to old Demetry and his chickens, rustle his feathers a bit. Ya' in?" she said, her accent piercing their short conversation.
"I don't know Cass. What if the old hag sees us?" Quinn asked, promptly side-eyeing the Legate.
"O', fret not! For our boy Declan here got word that his father is to organize another one of those meetings, the 'strato jams' or whatever." Cass answered, sarcastically impersonating a monarch of sorts.
"You mean the stratagem meetings?" Quinn asked, with a layer of worry covering her face. "But fine I'll go as long as you get rid of the old witch-"
"Quinn." Cass repeatedly taps Quinn's shoulder, quickly glancing behind her.
"Yes" she replies, before looking behind her and feeling her heart sink to the floor.
Legate July, standing directly behind the pair interrupts, "Language, Brutus.", "You know very well a sharp blade is what it takes to defeat a foe, never a sharp tongue.", adding, "I sincerely do hope you're not talking about me, perhaps it is a thought worth sharing to our 'class'? Else you wouldn't mind having half-feed for dinner, I suppose,".
Quinn's heart, already feeling like it was knee-deep, had skipped a beat just then.
"Honest to law, Madam Legate. Cass only asked me whether we had any homework for tomorrow," Quinn swiftly mustered up a lie, to no avail.
"I'd expect only Cassidy to say something like that," she added, "Tsk tsk, half-feed for everyone it is."
Groaning was heard all across the grounds, echoing off the walls of the colosseum and reach far and beyond. Later on, Quinn had decided to pay Cass a visit first, to cool off her mind.
A loud thud can be heard as Quinn practically pushes the door of it's hinges, barging into Cass's room. A room so untidy yet so full of emotion, odd trinkets laying about, damaged spearheads on the table, and everything except for any books.
"Can you expect the enemy to paint for you?! Do you think they will delay their date for you?" Quinn stood on a chair; mocking the Legate, before jumping head-first into Cass's bed and pouting, "I never understood why she took me in. I'd rather she left me to die of hunger, would've hurt less than having to deal with her bullcr-"
"Calm down Q, she's like that to everyone," Cass interrupted, sarcastically adding, "Ya' aint special.", chuckling to herself
Quinn let out a loud groan, similar to a rusty old door being opened, "Enough Cass. When are we headed out?"
"Patience is a virtue.", "We'll dip as soon as Dec' tells us the coast is clear," she replied.
Meanwhile, in the island's town hall, located in the eastern part of town, near the public warehouse.
The Senate murmur, discussing their plans with one another, before being silenced by a voice not dissimilar to that of thunder
"The island of Proditio is safe! We're far enough out that not a single soul will attack us Julia, don't you get it?!", said Declan's father, the High Pontifex
"You don't get it Hal, I've seen what could happen -- if I were to be promoted to the title of Imperator, I could bring down a wall to protect this province and its people!", she replies with a tenacious undertone.
"And that wall works both ways; you'd be closing us in with you too. That's a risk I am unwilling to take and a fate best left unrealized,", "Opening trade routes with the rest of the nations and investing in our maritime industry; which is highly profitable, mind you -- we could get half our people off the streets,", "Had you been less obsessed with your delusions of ruling this tiny island you could see that," said Hal, getting increasingly more furious.
"If you keep cowering in fear, eventually we won't be a nation anymore. We might as well wave a big white flag," she continued, "I am prepared to resort to anything, to submit to anything, for the sake of the province,"; "I'd rather these people sleep on the streets than for them to sleep under the land we walk on," she responds, "You know who to vote for."
The Legate stormed out of the hall. A long silence had ensued before one half of the court erupted into the prideful cheer, while the other had concaved into a bashful jeer.
On the easternmost coastal forest of the island, the clucking of chickens and the rustling of leaves can be heard. On top a shady knoll, four dark figures are just barely visible in contrast to the night's dark blue sky.
"Psst~, see if the gate's locked." Cass whispered to Trevor, the youngest of the bunch.
Trevor sighed, "Come on, do I have to?" he responded, taking a second and setting down his lantern to gather his courage; as soon as he got up, Quinn pushed him aside, snatching his lantern and rushing down to check whether the front gate was locked or not.
Moments later, standing underneath a dimly lit oil lamp adjacent to the gate, she lifted her lantern up, waving it toward herself to beckon the trio. After which the three promptly slid down, and went through the gate -- save for Trevor, who had stayed in front to guard the others.
Cass led the chickens out of their coop and through the gate, releasing them. The clucking got more frequent; each bawk made the trio more and more hysterical. This was until a light suddenly shone on them. A crooked figure with an unkempt beard spanning almost the entire length of it's body stood behind them, it held a rugged lantern. It was none other than old Demetry himself.
Trevor, just by seeing the man, had almost wet himself. He ran first, followed by the others, laughing and bursting into pure hysteria.
"What're you doin'?!", " 'Git! 'Git!", yelled the old man, a regional accent heavier than man himself.
He chased after them, lantern in hand; calling them "Scoundrels" and a few more, frankly, inappropriate names.
After running for a while, they'd come to wind down by the entrance of the old public warehouse. The only thing lighting them up was the lantern, and the brightening sky.
Declan, still chuckling, controls himself for a moment, resting his elbow on Cass's shoulder, "Told you it'd be fun Cass, glad you brought Brutus along."
Quinn stared at him as if he said a slur, Cass promptly pushed him off her shoulder.
"What?", he asked, befuddled.
Quinn's smile had faded, and in an accusatory tone said, "By law, could you all stop with that bothersome nickname? Please?!"
"Why did you even start hating that nickname? You used to love it; and honestly it's pretty damn fitting," Declan stated, as if it were fact.
"Keep talking and I'll you'll be down a few teeth by sunrise," she interrupted herself, "Fine."
"My mother, at least what I recall of her, called me Brutus," her tone lowered, "The nickname stuck with me, and I liked it. It would feel like home," she took a deep breath and continued, "And she caught wind of it one day. She kept ordering me around, Brutus this, Brutus that, and at one point the name began to make me sick to my stomach," she looked at Declan in the eyes, "Instead of thinking of my mother when I hear that name, I think of her now," tears swelled up, she felt like she had released all her tension at that moment. She murmured, "Sorry."
Quinn looked at Cass and the others, covered her face and jolted through the dark and dusty halls of the warehouse before anyone could even react, breaking out into a hard sob, brushing her tears away with the cuffs of her shirt.
"Way to go, Dec'," said Cass, "I'll go check if she'll be alright," irritatedly she grabbed Trevor's lantern, then she promptly glared at Declan for a moment before storming off.
"What did I do?!" yelled Declan, while looking back at Cass, then glancing back at Trevor and shrugging.
"Can't you just be a bit less selfish for once?" Trevor said, staring Declan down
Cass navigated the halls, stumbling, only able to discern where Quinn was by the sound of her sobbing; finding her in a room packed to the brim with piles of forgotten and discarded letters. Quinn was sitting underneath a shelf, curled up, tears dripping like a faulty faucet. She held up a letter, throwing it to the ground; landing on a spot where the rising sun illuminated it through the window.
"Read it," she said, looking up at Cass.
"Why? What's on it-" Cass paused, getting noticeably more distressed with each sentence.
The letter addressed to the Senate read:
"It is with great humility that I, the Emperor, leader of the Great Nation, announce that all I have worked for has fallen," her face reddened, a fever about to come on; just from reading it, "We have sent envoys upon envoys," ,"I have sent my refugees," ,"Yet, I have still not been notified whether they are even alive," she stopped reading the letter then, looking desperately into Quinn's eyes, before stuttering in disbelief, "This can't be happening."
"This letter was sent 4 years ago," Quinn murmured, not knowing how to feel, "All the others prior were sent over a course of ten years,", "Cass, have we been fighting a 'war' against our own?"
Quinn paused, for she already knew the answer deep down, no matter how much it hurt; no matter how much it left a pit in her stomach.
Another murder of crows had passed, the augur rang the bell; "fortune shall arrive today unto the next day,". The four of them went to the forum, and showed each other what the letter read.
With the rest of them notified; a new plan had to arise, one to tell the island what the War really meant, who the enemy really was.
"The island deserves to know the truth," Cass said, her throat aching and her voice hoarse, "All of it."
Declan -- who had already folded his arms, visibly upset, argued, "And ruin my father's reputation? By law's sake he's the High Pontifex! Do you know what this could do to me!?"
Quinn said nothing, although grief and anger churned beneath her skin. In her mind, the Legate was going to pay
Quinn zoned out for a bit, before saying "I'll be back in a few." Quinn slipped away, headed straight for the other side of the forum.
Cass turned away, "Not this time, I have to tell them."
Declan followed -- desperate, he remarked, "Cass, you have no idea what you're doing!"
Trevor hesitantly rushed to chase after Quinn, looking back ever so often to check where Cass and Declan are headed.
The forum was already crowded when Cass climbed onto the low stone pillow at its centre.
"Folk! People! Islanders!" she shouted, exasperating herself with each word
"I have an announcement!"
Declan stepped forward, panicking, "Don't listen to her!", he called to the crowd, "Anything she says is most definitely a lie!"
Cass chuckled, "Well then, 'suppose that's so?", she swept an arm wide. "We have not been fighting a senseless war for the past ten years, and we have most definitely not been lied to by our Senate!"
The crowd stirred, though for an entirely different reason. Visitors to the forum had gone en masse to the other side, a different commotion had taken their attention away.
Declan laughed, "Just as old Demetry said, 'Scoundrels'!", he said, "Ignored and brushed off!"
"No, no... It's something else," Cass said, as alert as a fox, quickly running to the heart of the commotion.
At the far side of the forum, Quinn loomed over the legate, pinning her to the ground. Her general's very own dagger trembled in her hand, poised at the heart of the woman entrusted of taking care of her, if she even had one.
"This!" Quinn exclaimed, her powerful voice echoing across the square, "This is the face of a traitor and saboteur! She had us fighting a war against our greatest enemy -- ourselves!" ,"For what? To keep alive the promise of a nation that's already fallen!?"
The crowd gasped, the trio were all pushing through the public just to pull Quinn away; to stop her from doing something she'd regret.
"So you too, Brutus? I raised you as a daughter-" The Legate said, interrupted, Quinn plunged the dagger. The crowd gasping yet again
The dagger landed beside the Legate. Quinn collapsed beside her, tears streaming
"You raised me to be all but a daughter to you. I am not your weapon anymore, I am not Brutus."
The Legate remained silent for a moment, taking deep breaths before whispering, "You always had problems with following orders."
Quinn stared at the Legate, her gaze puncturing through her.
Trevor knelt beside Quinn, trembling, he pulled her away to Cass and Declan.
The crowd stared, unknown whether to intervene or to stay still.
Nothing ended that day, yet everything changed.