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Ch 1: The Devil Child
"There is only one people, one race and a million animals. Any other that claims sentience is but a demon, a manifestation of a heretic's mind." – Word of the Imperial Council, 56 000 I.F
Stones hurt, they always did. Again and again the assorted smooth and jagged pebbles pelted the girl as she gritted her teeth and tried in vain to ignore the searing gashes opening on her exposed flesh. They had strapped her down, as usual. Maybe it was more entertaining to harm someone who could not do anything to defend herself? Perhaps it gave them a sense of dominance, a belief that they were not the lowliest beings in their existence, that there were a few that even they could tread on?
Regardless, the torment continued. All she could be thankful for was that they had, at least, used rope this time. She could tolerate the hot fibres tearing her flesh much more than the alternate metal clamps which, on a good day, would only flay her knuckles, leaving hot searing wounds which even the Preacher's herbs could not help to dull the pain.
Another rock was hurled and she could barely contain herself from crying out in pain. Luckily, she managed to restrain any indication of weakness – showing pain would only invite more. Any suggestion of fear would only reward her attackers and give them even more incentive. She didn't want to give them any more pleasure than they already had.
Sometimes, she pondered the justification for the pain she experienced every day. Sometimes, she could even come to agree with those that tortured her. She had done much to harm them, even if she may not even have been the one doing the harming. Accused of blasphemy and demon-harbouring was a serious offence on Xerl, after all. It could be ignored in polite company if one had the right ancestry, but no one could leave her be outside the safety of her house. That was the very reason her parents, if they could still be called that, forced her out at least once a day to receive punishment for her supposed thoughts.
She remembered happier times: days when she had friends and was more likely to be greeted with a congenial smile than a beating. Those days ended, seemingly as quickly as they had started. From warm camaraderie, her peers attitudes turned to cold hatred. She was hated.
Was there any real justification for her pain? Often, she would say not, but could thousands of Imperial preachers really be wrong? Maybe what they said was true – maybe she deserved the pain?
It had been eight years since her sister disappeared; eight long years of pain as she was punished for the famine that her sister had wrought. The Martyr himself had declared her a manifestation of heresy. All the off-spring of House Lien were declared demons. Her parents begged for permission to redeem themselves - to be allowed to kill her. The Martyr forbade them. Their punishment was to allow her to live - their only daughter allowed to live as a testament to the sins of their other offspring.
The famines had ended, but old habits die hard. She was punished every day. Old friends whipped her, relatives stoned her. No one spared her a glance of sympathy. All she could do was keep on living, hoping for an end that would never come, as they would never let that day come. Her people lived a long time and, with medicine, her lacerations and illnesses were healed. Any person would have dreamed for the care she was given, but she only wished it would stop. A small part of her longed to succumb to infection. It would mean death, yes, but it would also mean an end to the pain, the misery. She wanted an end.
As blue as her punisher's unmarred skin, the sky heralded a good day for many. Her day would be like any other. Only thirteen and covered with blood and scars, she winced as another stone struck her. She cursed at the loss of her own strength. They would not be bored fast this day.
She steeled herself, awaiting the next blow. It never came. Normally, turning from the wall brought only a broken nose and black eye, but this time, she felt that it would be different.
Her ears still rang from the pain. This deafened her to the surroundings as effectively as ear plugs. This ringing in itself hurt her, as her long sensitive ears could not stand loud noises.
No blows came, but as the ringing subsided, she heard footsteps. Finally, she turned her head.
Standing above the now chastised and kneeling bodies of the three boys who had attacked her was an Edal, older than herself but still young, only now coming into manhood. He stood nobly over the ones who had hurt her for most of the morning, clutching a rod, the design of which was normally used against her.
She cursed silently. Adults sometimes felt the need to vent their frustration upon her and would chase away the usual younger torturers. They were much more brutal. She almost shivered.
Her hearing was coming back to her and she could hear the faint sound of communication as the adult spoke harshly with the children. He switched one of them lightly and sent them off.
He looked up as they ran off and the girl hastily turned back to the wall. Once again, she steeled herself. The crunching of boots upon gravel could be heard approaching. Seconds hurt, the anticipation was a nightmare.
Relief hit her like a wave as the ropes restraining her gave way. Instead of collapsing to the floor as she was usually allowed to do, she was caught. Her mouth was dry and her skin torn. She was used to this. The sudden relief left her vision white, and she could only feel as a bottle of what felt like water was brought up to her lips. She drank, but then stopped. Swiftly, she tried to break way. No one would offer her this kind of kindness. Xerl was a planet devoid of kindness towards the likes of her. She broke away, but from the force of it, she almost fell, until she was caught again. The grip was strong, but not painful. There was no animosity.
'You are safe now. I am not going to hurt you.'
The voice was soothing, kind. It put her at ease. She drank greedily. Her chafed lips and dry throat needed it. Her vision cleared and she looked up.
The man had smooth blue skin, hinting at a life of luxury. This was no farmer. His hands showed no evidence of calluses. His face was warm and he wore a slight smile. At least, she thought it was a smile. She hadn't seen one for what seemed like an eternity.
The man had placed his jacket upon the ground and slowly lowered the girl upon it. Looking around, he pointed at a pile of rags questioningly. The girl nodded as the man bent down to pick up her shredded clothes. She could not have been sure, but he seemed to shake his head, almost in disgust.
Dubiously, she accepted them as he handed them to her. She put on her shirt, only wincing a little as the fabric made contact with her flesh. They both remained silent until the girl looked up at him.
Finally, he spoke. 'Re'lien, I presume?'
Stunned that someone would know her name and not spit it as it passed their lips, she only nodded. She managed to collect herself and reply. 'Yes, I am. Re'lien en Xerl. The Devil Child.'
At the proclamation, the man immediately burst out laughing. Shocked at this display, Re'lien backed away slowly, hoping that if he meant her some sort of sick harm, that he wouldn't notice her retreat.
Then she noticed his eyes. They held no mirth. She had never seen a humourless laugh before. Even the sadistic guffaws she was usually forced to witness held pleasure. This man laughed because the world was too unpleasant not to.
He stopped laughing and offered his hand. Nervous but without any other option, Re'lien accepted it.
'Well, Devil Child, I am Kei en…well, that part doesn't matter. Just know that I mean you no harm.'
He looked genuinely sincere, but Re'lien knew that sincerity could be the greatest weapon used against her. Creating hope and then crushing it was the cruellest of tortures used against her. But for some reason, she felt no hint of villainy from the man – Kei as he called himself. She felt a sense of eccentricity, but with that, kindness. She could not think why, but around him, she felt safe.
'I have heard much about you, Re'lien.
Mostly bad – well, all bad, but that was what has made me curious.'
He released her hand and continued. She regretted the loss of touch for a second.
'Devil Child is as odd a term as any in this bizarre Empire we call our home and I decided to come take a look at the heretic who blighted her planet. Call it a hobby of mine to travel the stars in search of oddities. I can say from my first experience of said child, however, that the claims are grossly over exaggerated.'
Kei wore a slightly amused grin. At that moment, Re'lien could not help but realise how much of a mess she must look. Embarrassed that she had thought it in the first place, she chastised herself. It was not her place to look presentable. Kei, on the other hand, looked no worse for wear. His skin was smooth and youthful, accompanying his spiked dark blonde hair. His clothes were clean and other-worldly. He was definitely not a local, probably not even from the system. Xerl was a farming planet; the people were characterised by their physical toil.
Re'lien did not speak. She hardly ever did. A life of punishment and social isolation tended to do that to a person. Kei frowned and then shook his head, clutching his forehead in frustration.
'How stupid of me. I expect to be able
to make conversation with you while you stand beaten and unclothed. Please,
allow me to invite you to my residence.'
Accompanying his request, he gave an exaggerated bow. He looked up and winked, 'I have yet to have any ladies call upon my abode and I would be honoured if I was to have the infamous Devil Child over for l'eron.'
Re'lien didn't answer, but it seemed that that was answer enough as Kei took her by the arm and pulled her gently away. The courtyard where she had spent the majority of the morning being beaten soon left her vision, and she barely noticed as Kei took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
The streets were relatively empty and she was thankful that the few people out and about did not recognise her. She did not know Kei's true intentions, but did not want him punished for helping her – if that was what he was genuinely doing. He had shown her kindness. Her distrust was warranted, but he could be thanked for the little he had already done.
Re'lien used this opportunity to get a good look at the town in which she had lived her whole life. Every day she may have left her house, but she had seldom had the pleasure of viewing her city in peace.
Shops flanked her on either side. Double-storied and constructed of white smooth stone, they shone in the dawn sun. Windows constructed of depleted Crystals dotted the second floor in a pattern, the first floor only interrupting that pattern with a doorway. Each doorway was constructed in the general Imperial fashion – an arch flanked by thin decorative columns. Sometimes, the columns would be pushed forward and used to keep up an extension of the roof, which people could use as shelter in harsh weather. Re'lien had never been allowed to use such shelter.
Rows of shops ended as they entered blocks of apartments and residences. These buildings were much taller, but followed a similar design. Edal were a conservative people, and even architecture had to follow a strict code.
As they walked, Re'lien became increasingly aware of her pain. Her sides ached, her back ached and her legs ached. As the hot searing agony increased, she stumbled. Before collapsing, a hand caught her and lifted her up. Her feet left the ground. As exhaustion took her, she could only keep her eyes open and watch as Kei looked at her, his face creased with concern. He was carrying her. This kindness in itself shocked Re'lien more than any stoning or ambush by her sadistic peers. She had faced pain that no one her age should ever experience, but it was this kindness that she found truly shocking.
She did not have any reason to be allowed any form of pleasure. Her crime of association was sin. She was a curse as long as she existed. Why would anyone help her?
As she was carried by the strange young man, she could not help but stare up at the sky as her eyes flickered closed, a tear streaming down her face.
'She's a demon! We cannot allow her to live!'
The rotund man was shouting, spittle flying from his mouth. A group surrounding him shouted in agreement. The woman Re'lien stood next to was crying, trying to conceal it. Re'lien recognized the woman as her mother, but all similarities between this woman and the one she had known were now long past.
Smartly dressed and armed with the House Conduit, Re'lien's father put in his agreement. At that, the group turned to him.
'How can we trust you, Tren'Lien? With all due respect, you have spawned the demon; you could be one of them!'
'Do not let your anger destroy your sense, Commander. I have lived faithfully by Council laws my entire life and will continue to do so till the day I die.'
'That may be sooner than later, eraztar,' another man added through gritted teeth.
In a flash, curved knives left their scabbards.
'Take that back, filf, or I'll cut you till you beg even heathen gods to save you!'
His knife pointing at Re'lien's father,
the man replied.
'I don't take orders from demons.'
Re'lien's father lowered his knife, but then raised his left arm. The man backed way, stunned.
'No! No! Blasphemy is one thing, but murder…Don't do thi…'
The last was left unsaid as energy blasted from Tren'lien's glove, incinerating the agitator and leaving nothing but a charred cadaver in his place.
Lowering his arm, the Lord of House Lien turned to the group who stood frozen, staring at the corpse.
'Any others wish to doubt my sanctity?'
No one replied.
'Good, then let us take my heathen daughter to the temple for purification! For the Martyr and Council!'
Re'lien now wished that her father had been allowed his request. If he had, the pain would have been short. There would have been an end. When the Martyr had forbade him the privilege of allowing his honour to remain through her death, she was the one who was truly punished. As much as her father reminded her that she was a demon and deserved all the pain she received, as much as he reminded her how much he suffered, it was she who had to live with the pain. His honour had nothing to do with it. They were her scars, her pain.
It had taken a long while, years even, to realise that. For what seemed most of her lifetime, she suffered while apologising to her father. She felt that she had deserved the pain. Only recently had she started feeling differently.
She had awoken upon Kei's back minutes ago as he continued to trudge through the morning frost. The sound of a bustling community had awoken - shouts of street vendors, the call of the local overseers and the services of the many Imperial Preachers. She knew the sound well. She had lived in this town, Lien'Xerl, her entire life. Her House was, after all, the primogenitor of the settlement when the Martyr had first come to Xerl.
Every day she was forced out of her home by servants. Her parents never spoke with her or even acknowledged her existence. No, they were no longer her parents. She held no affection for them. There was no warmth or bonds of fellowship. All she held for those who had given birth to her was a cold tolerance, and a tinge of betrayal.
She had regained most of her strength by the time that Kei asked if she was awake. She indicated that she was and he smiled slightly. This man seemed to project optimism. That was something foreign to Re'lien. In a world of bleak greyness, even a speck of colour was enough to make her life seem lighter. Kei's smile, a genuine sign of friendliness and affection brightened her life. She couldn't understand what she felt, but at that moment, she knew that she liked this man.
They had stopped outside a small abode. The walls were slanted and the entire structure seemed to be spherical. This was a filf's residence. No columns or stone here, just a practical place to live. Re'lien's home was much larger and probably more comfortable, but she had never felt that it could be home.
They entered, Kei lowering her to her feet so he could open the door.
'Welcome to my home. Temporary, as it may be, I have come to like it.'
The room was bright, and not just with the warm glow of the fire. The walls were not just the sombre white and grey of the town, but were painted a myriad of reds, greens and blues. Paintings dotted the walls, showing scenes that Re'lien did not recognize. Scenes of what seemed like filfs standing above burning buildings, holding weapons in their hands. Other paintings depicted much more peaceful scenes. One such painting displayed what Re'lien was sure could have been a tree, but was much too large. No tree was taller than a house!
'Please make yourself at home! I will get something to eat.'
He left the room with a flourish, leaving her to glance around the room. Besides the paintings, bookshelves lined portions of the walls. She had never seen so many in her life.
Sounds came from the back of the house where she presumed Kei was preparing food. He had told her to make herself at home, and admittedly she didn't understand completely what home was, she felt that it would at least allow her to read.
Re'lien's life had been one of major confusion. On the one hand, she was abused and hated, but on the other, she was educated and healed. She had been taught the Edallic script and could read basic literature. She was almost never allowed to put her knowledge to the test, however, as 'books were no object for heathen hands'.
She walked cautiously up to the shelf and withdrew a book at random. She opened it to an unspecified page in the middle and was met with a series of illegible lines and circles. If this was Edallic, she was truly inept. She tried paging towards the front, but was met with more unknown symbols.
She closed the book and looked at the cover. The right hand side, just along the spine, held a line of the symbols. Resigned, she was just about to put it away when a voice behind her spoke.
'The People are Collective,' the voice said. Re'lien, in her fright, didn't hear what the voice had said. Turning with fright, she flinched as she saw a figure of white. Hairless, earless and flat-nosed, the Ulyx stared back at her with piercing yellow eyes.
'The People are the Collective of the Person,' the Ulyx expanded, 'a Krugari philosophy on consciousness and identity, written before they disappeared two decades ago.'
Re'lien had heard that, but that did not change the fact that she didn't know how to react. She was now on the floor, back against the wall. Seldom did anyone talk to her, and until Kei, it had never been without hostility.
Kei entered the room, carrying a tray. He stopped at the sight of Re'lien and the Ulyx near the bookshelf and laughed.
'Roryx, please refrain from scaring my guest. Re'lien, don't worry, Ulyx are ugly but seldom dangerous – except, of course, in their banking practices.'
'That's somewhat rude, Kei, and uncalled for. I was merely stating the name of one of your many dull pieces of literature.'
The Ulyx, Roryx, said this, but his face betrayed his sentiments. He walked over to Kei, his face divided by a huge toothy smile. They took each other in a friendly hug.
'It's been awhile, Kei. What have you been up to these days? I mean before you called me here.'
'Exploring - mostly. I've been to the Kragonian worlds recently.'
'Haven't they been in an uprising? The Council in Central is up in arms about it. Apparently, the capital on Kragon has been taken by rebels. The Council is close to sending in the Voroz.'
Roryx looked saddened by that. 'I thought you had stopped this, Kei. I was sure you had grown some sense after Ter'un.'
Kei's expression had also darkened. 'I did not lead these uprisings, Roryx, and neither do I evoke them. I give the people the truth and they can act upon it as they see fit. It is not anyone's place to prevent people from feeling anger.'
'Even when the truth costs them their homes…their very lives?'
'There is no exception, Roryx! There is truth, and there is deceit. I seek the former, and will stop at nothing to spread it. The galaxy deserves nothing less. Somebody has to do it.'
Roryx signed, looking resigned. 'I know, Kei. I know that you care and just want the world to as well, but sometimes we just go a little too far. I sometimes think that Arenn Pemii'livv was right. Maybe peace, even if false, is better than the chaos that follows enlightenment. Maybe the people aren't ready yet.'
At that moment, Roryx glanced back at Re'lien. He had seemingly forgotten about her. He looked back at Kei with a questioning expression.
'Ah, yes, excuse my rudeness,' his mood had seemed to lighten again, 'my friend here is Roryx Tyen'Glant, one of the greatest bankers on this side of Central.'
Roryx gave a formal bow and smiled. His reptilian eyes struggled to put her at ease.
'And this,' Kei said, indicating at her with a flourish, 'is Re'lien en Xerl, the Devil Child.'
Roryx brought his hand to his mouth in a thoughtful fashion, but then smiled warmly. 'Pleased to meet you, Re'lien. May I call you Re? I've always found this Fringe habit of including a villages name in your first name as quaint, but irritating.'
She nodded, but stopped. Quiet as she normally seemed, she somehow felt that she needed to make a good first impression.
'Yes, Re is fine. Lien has never been my home. The title is just a worthless addition.'
Roryx looked concerned for a second, but then smiled. 'Even I, with my limited knowledge of these parts, have heard about you, Re. It would be my pleasure to talk to the infamous Devil Child.'
'That will have to wait. I am sure that Re is starving,' Kei interjected, holding out the tray that he had been carrying earlier. 'Please, eat what you like.'
Re'lien looked at the tray, but without any prior indication that it was food, she would have totally disregarded it as anything of the sort. What Kei held out did not look like the fare that she normally received, but more like the beautifully crafted artwork that was draped across the walls. It was exquisite. Colourful objects sliced into bits were arranged atop plates. A bowl held what she presumed was a sauce of some kind.
Never had she seen food such as this, and never had she been offered food in such a manner. As much as they were strange, however, she couldn't bring herself to distrust them.
She picked up a small slice of something from the centre plate. The centre was red with a greenish tinge around the skin. Kei indicated for her to dip it into the sauce and she did so. Hesitantly, she brought the food up to her mouth. Staring at the morsel from the bottom of her vision, she took one final gulp and then placed it in her mouth. Before any second thoughts about the safety of the food could reach her, flavour invaded her mouth. It practically exploded. Sweet liquid spread throughout her mouth and she was hard pressed to swallow, lest the taste stop. She had tasted something like this before. It had been so long ago, but she remembered.
A tear fell from her eye as she swallowed the fruit piece. Before the taste could subside, she took another – and another after that. Tears now fell openly from her eyes. She noted that Roryx was not looking at her, but was reading instead. Kei continued to hold the tray. He was smiling, but looked somewhat sad.
The plate was almost done when she finally stopped. Her face was drenched, and she was on her knees. She could not recall when she had lowered herself, but Kei had lowered himself with her. She felt something on her shoulder and she turned. Roryx stood there holding a handkerchief. She accepted it and dried her face. Ashamed of her lapse in strength, she once again changed back to her stoic expression. The damage was done, however. She had shown weakness.
For what seemed like most of her life, she had tried her utmost to conceal her emotions. Emotions led to torment, allowed her torturers an opening to harm her. For years, she had managed to put up with the beatings, managed to dredge up the ability to keep on living without shedding a tear for her own pain. She never could have thought that what would have broken her would have been kindness.
Wiping her eyes, she looked up. Kei had placed the empty tray on the table. A blanket of wool had been draped across Re's shoulders. The warmth was comforting, and she noted how the pains of her earlier beatings had since subsided.
'Why?' she finally asked.
'Why wouldn't we help someone in need?' Kei answered. He had taken a seat near her.
'No one helps me. I am beyond help. I'm the Devil Child! The sins of this world are mine to bear, as well as their punishment.'
'And you are okay with this?'
Re opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. Was she truly okay with this? She spent her days pondering that question, but never came up with an answer. Did she genuinely believe that she deserved this pain? This punishment? All her life, she just endured the pain, she did as she was told. She knew nothing else. The pain was all she now knew. She accepted it as was her place to do so. Never had someone asked her what she felt – until now.
'…No,' she whispered, eyes downcast. 'I
am not okay with this!'
She looked up, her mask disappearing, her complacency collapsing.
'For years, I have lived under this torture! I have withstood pain every day of my life. The agony was endless, but I could cope with that. Yes, it hurt, but it would abate. No, the real pain was in the madness. I was mad! The Preachers hammered that into me. They made sure that if they could not change what I felt, they would make me doubt myself. They made me doubt my very identity, my very life! I would lie awake at night, pondering. I would try banishing the demons in my soul, but the more I did so, the more I realised that it is not I who was mad, but the world!'
She only realised after the fact that she had been shouting. She didn't care as she once have might. She had to let it all out. Here she had found an audience, and she wanted to let the world know her suffering.
Roryx and Kei were both watching her intently. A third figure stood by the doorway. She would have gulped and lowered her eyes, normally, but she was sick of unwarranted humility. She looked at the figure head-on – defiant.
To her surprise, the figure began to clap, drawing the attention of both Kei and Roryx who seemingly had not noticed it.
'Well said, Devil Child. I had my doubts about you, but you have some backbone in you after all.'
The figure approached her, entering into the fire-lit room and revealing itself to be a short Edal woman. She wore a sleeveless vest with pockets lining the sides. Her pants were baggy and also possessed many pockets. By her side she wore a satchel containing what Re presumed was a weapon of sorts. The lady had short spiky dark-blonde hair. Her face was bare, but she wore a bandana around her neck which Re presumed was used to hide her identity.
'From what I've been hearing,' the woman continued, 'you were nothing but a spineless heretic. Maybe they're right, but you've made an impression with this already.'
As she approached, she looked at Kei and Roryx with an irritated expression. The two previously calm men seemed to back away, looks of worry crossing their usually calm faces.
The woman glared at them, and then looked at Re, scanning her from top to bottom, arms firmly on her hips.
'…Is there a reason,' she began, breathing as if she was trying to keep calm, 'that this girl here is wearing nothing but rags?'
'Eri…um, nice seeing you here,' Kei gulped, 'we only came back recently, and…I don't have any suitable clothes for her as such…you understand, right?'
'What I understand, Kei, is that all men are perverted. Tssh, why do I even bother? Did they do anything besides ogle, child?'
The last question was directed at Re. The lady's tone had shifted from angry, to resigned, to calm in a matter of seconds. Taken aback, Re shook her head.
Nodding, self-assuredly, the lady turned back to Kei and Roryx. 'It seems you two will maintain your ability to walk a bit longer.'
Taking a seat by the fire, she crossed her legs and then said, 'So, aren't you going to introduce me?'
'Your presence seldom requires an introduction, Miss Kara'zar,' Roryx snickered, halting under her glare.
'Ah, yes. Allow me to introduce Eri Kara'zar. She is most well known in central space as the Scythe Corsair,' Kei seemed a little more at ease now. It really seemed that he was genuinely frightened by the short woman.
Eri was puffing up her chest, looking proud. As Re did not reply or make any exclamations, she seemed to grow impatient and then disappointed. Pouting, she said, 'I was expecting more of a reaction.'
'Not everyone follows pirate escapades, much less in the Fringe Worlds,' Roryx added, 'Re is hardly going to know about a space brigand such as yourself. I doubt they allow her any information at all outside of Lien.'
Eri looked at Re expectantly. She shook her head. 'I don't even know what a pirate is.'
Eri gasped. 'Not know what a pirate is? That is unacceptable! How can one live anything but a dreary bland life without tales of swash buckling, blaster raids and the romantic adventures of the corsairs? Danger, dread, wealth, romance…all is the domain of the pirate. We are the owners of space, the great unchained! We are…'
'…Criminals really,' Roryx added, his fear from before seemingly non-existent as he paged through a red hardcover.
'One could say the same of bankers. At least we provide entertainment! I can't think of anything as dreary and as dangerous as a banker!'
'You kill people! Every time you go on one of your little raids, innocent people die!'
'The people I kill are anything but innocent,' Eri had tightened her hand into a fist. Her knuckles were going white as she clenched her fingers. 'Every ship I burn, every Enforcer and petty merchant I slay is a slave of the Council – if not a murderer, an advocate of murder. They deserve no pity!'
'Not everyone who fights under the Council is responsible for the Council's crimes! We cannot risk becoming like them in our effort to defeat them.'
The two were glaring at each other; Re could positively see the sparks of aggression. Their glares were like knifepoints.
'It's been two years since we last all saw each other,' Kei interjected, 'Let's at least try to get along; especially seeing that we have a guest.'
That gave them pause.
'My apologies, Re,' Roryx soon added. Eri seemed to say the same under her breath. The apologies seemed more directed at her than at Kei, who looked relieved nonetheless.
'As I said, it has been a long time since we last saw each other. We don't want this project to fall apart before it has even started due to some petty bickering.'
Project? They kept discussing things which Re did not understand, but she had an inkling. Their consensual association with her was enough, but all this talk of rebellion and unknown doctrines – much less the condemnation of the council – made her sure.
'You're eraztar, aren't you?' she asked, surprise showing through her voice even though she had figured it out a while earlier.
'Eraztar?' Eri asked, eyebrow raised.
'It's a Fringe World term, loosely translates to rebel,' Kei answered. He then looked at Re. The look held no malice, but held a sense of knowing. They were.
Re kept her face calm, but inside she was terrified. Before she had been pronounced the Devil Child (and even after), she had been taught the evil of all those that went against the Council. They were called Eraztar – Demon Traitor. There was no fitting punishment for an Eraztar besides swift execution. They were a blight upon existence, not worthy of any prison and too dangerous to let live. In some ways, Re was similar to them, but even so, they felt separate. Even if the Council was not her friend, she had been brought up with the Eraztar being her enemy.
'Why am I here?'
'There is a saying,' Kei answered, now
looking into the fire, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend. You are obviously
not a friend of the Council. I can see the abuses they have piled upon you, the
unjustifiable torture and acts of violence that haunt you every day. No, you
are no friend of the Council – and neither are we.
'Every one of us has reason to hate the Council. We all have reasons why we want it to fall. For years we have sought to damage them anyway we can. We have failed and we have succeeded, but the fight continues.'
'So you are Eraztar!'
Kei chuckled humourlessly. 'That would imply that the Imperial doctrines are correct. That blasphemy was mere corruption of speech. That would imply that I believed a word of the drivel they preached. One cannot fear, nor worship, demons if they do not believe in them. I cannot be Eraztar, as Eraztar do not exist.'
Stunned, Re did not know what to say. Not only had they admitted to rebellion against the Council – an entity all powerful – but Kei had just disparaged Council Doctrine! Wasn't that what she was accused of? No, she was accused of harbouring demon blood. She was still expected to believe in the demons. Kei was different. He was not a heathen or an Eraztar. He truly did not believe what the Imperials said. In a way, the Imperials could not touch him.
For years, she had been thinking the thoughts that she had previously been falsely accused of pondering. These were the types of thoughts that powers like the Council feared the most. They were doubts. The Council had accused her of blasphemy and by doing so, led her to doubt their very doctrine. It was ironic, really, that by accusing her of a crime, they guided her to genuinely commit it. Every day was hell for her, and that hell was by the Council's orders. How was she expected to follow the doctrines that led to her pain?
She wasn't.
'I want to help,' she said, 'but I want something else in return.'
Roryx raised his eyebrow and Eri sat up in her chair. Re'lien looked up, eyes aflame.
'I don't want to be afraid anymore.'


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New Braunfels Herald Zeitung (Newspaper) - December 12, 1997, New Braunfels, Texas Thursday's River City Classic results — Page IB 50 CENTS To contribute lo the United Way, cad 620-7760 $370,000 I sofar — $267,341 Q i Herald 20332 ti009 lo/on/00 sheets®... ~ EL PASO, rx 79903_ 22 pages in two sections ■ Friday, December 12,1997 Serving Comal County and surrounding areas for more than 145 years ■ Home of Taylor Jones Vol. 146, No. 21 Inside Editorial........................................4A Sports........................,.............1B-2B Comics................. 88 Marketplace.............................3-7B Dear Abby..................."...............3A th* Henikf-Zaitung! The New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung extends birthday wishes to: Maria Diaz, Teresa Martinez, Elizabeth Paloma, John Turman, Ceretta Daunt (Saturday), Christy Jones (26 years), Taylor Jones (I year), Dodo Dietert Jr. (Saturday), Lucy Castilian (Saturday), Lena Timmerman (Saturday), Doris Grimm (Saturday), Clayton Mott (9 years Saturday), Donna KorbeU (13 years), Eva Garcia and Julian Rojas. . To have a birthday or anniversary listed here, call 625-9144. Poise Count unavailable (Rolen measured in parts par cubic mater cf ar Hormakn prodded by Dr Frank Hampel.) River Information Comal River —330 cubic teat per second, the same as Thursday. Edwards Aquifer Panther Canyon Well — 625 93 feet. same. Canyon Dam discharge — 215 cfs Canyon Lake inflow — 151 cfs Canyon Lake level — 906.90 New Braunfels Utilities NBL) reports pumping 5.479 mNon gallons of surface water Thursday and 378,000 galore of we! water. continues Today —r Mostly cloudy. Highs in the mid 40s. Tonight, decreasing clouds and cold. Lows in the upper 20s. toturdoy — Sunny. Highs in the mid to upper 50s. Saturday night, clear. Lows in the 20s Sunday — Sunny but cool. Highs in the 50s Hill Country. Near 60 south central. Monday — Increasing cloudiness. Lows from the 20s to the 30s. Highs in the 60s Ti—aday — Mostly cloudy with a slight chance of rain. Lows in the 40s. Highs in the 60s. CHMT Fund grows Contributions continue to pour in to the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung Cheer Fund. Money from the fund is used to buy food baskets for needy Contributions include ■ Hochheim Prairie Farm Mutual Insurance Company Branch 136 —$500 ■ Col. (Ret.) & Mrs. Joe L. Guinn — $25 ■ William and Carol Key — $25 ■ Lee & Lucille Mensinger — $25 Prepare loc witksnd of holiday fun Glowfest 97 launched today at 7 a m. at the Comal County Fairgrounds. There will be carnival rides and tethered balloon rides during the day Saturday at the fairgrounds, and from 5 to 7 p.m. Saturday, the balloons will Glow.' Also taking place this weekend are the Fourth Annual Tour of Homes (call 625-6119) and the Jingle Ben Run/Walk for Family Outreach (call 609-5030). Photo by LasHe KrtewakJt/Speciai to the HeraM-Zeitung vnMnNovrv summer smimers ana erin Boyo cheer on their favorite teem. blue Unicom fans pull out all the stops What s Up ■ INSIDE TODAY New Unicom song —2A Driving directions — 2A Chartered buses — 2A Editorial — 4A Getting ready — 1B a The Unicom football team traveled to Houston to practice in the Astrodome Thursday, returning late to finish at-home preparations. B The New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung, in conjunction with Becker Motors, will be distributing free game banners. Drop by the paper's office at 707 Landa St. pi Attend the send-off pep rally today from 6:30 to 7:30 p.m. at the NBHS cafeteria. Relive the games with video highlights, meet the Unicorns and get autographs. 0 Have a blue or white unicorn stenciled on your car today from 3 to 7:30 p.m. in the NBHS parking lot One stencil is $2 and three stencils are $5. 0 Ten chartered buses are reserved to carry more than 450 Unicom supporters to Saturday s game. Buses will leave from the NBHS parking lot at 2:30 p.m. Saturday. 0 Since temperatures in the Astrodome are a constant 72 degrees, supporters don't need to bundle up for the game—only for the road trip, as a cold front could bring snow and lows in the 20s. V _ Hereto-Zwtung photo by Sumo Jekobswi Tina Gonzales and VtekteQltatrap, mother* of Unicorn-football player*, eland! Isabel Guerrara'aaar. . Thursday hi front of WiMbrt. — *** '-j-*--,j •** *■ ,t r \ Dorothy Overman / P sfSk! Stores sell lots of Unicom-wear BY SUSAN JAKOBSEN Staff Writer As the New Braunfels High School football team prepares to meet Alief Hastings in the region 5 A semifinal playoff Saturday, local merchants are beefing up stocks of Unicom memorabilia to meet the city's demand. "It's not just kids and people involved in New Braunfels High School" buying T-shirts, buttons and signs at Color Express, said owner and manager Adam Cork. "It's an identity thing... (NBHS football team) is now the city of New Braunfels team," he said. Cork said popular items were signs reading, "You've got to believe," that fit in vehicle and storefront windows. Color Express distributed the signs for free before last weekend's win against MacArthur, but they became so heavily sought atter that Color Express began selling them instead. Tara KJaehn, Vivroux store manager, said Vivroux Turn to Storm, Page 2A Hardd-ZaMung photo by Susan JafcobMft ■ svm Kiaenn, vivroux bvovw RsngQwi snowi »wyg$ viiichTwoi unicoiii i^wW inip$cwy» Villanml bought a smilter T-shirt for his ton. Officials want you scared of hepatitis A By SUSAN FLYNT ENGLAND News Editor 3 Health officials are trying to scare New Braunfels residents — scare them into the kind of hygiene habits that will prevent the further spread of hepatitis A. Confirmation of two cases Tuesday at a second area day care center prompted County Judge Carter Casteel and county health officials to call a press conference Thursday. "We want the public to take this personally," Casteel said, adding that her granddaughter attended the second day care center. Hepatitis A is a viral liver disease that produces symptoms similar to stomach flu. To date, 30 cases have been confirmed since Oct. 3, said Comal County Health Official Dorothy Overman. Within 17 hours of confirming the cases at the second day care center, county health officials had given the children and workers at the center shots of immune globulin, said Comal County nurse Shel McWilliams. The inoculation was not a cure, she said, btu it boosted the body's ability to fight the vims before it made a person sick. "State health officials have told us that if this outbreak is not contained within the two day cares, we are looking at a two-year siege." McWilliams said. lf the outbreak w ent unchecked, it could gradually spread through the entire area population, she said. Hepatitis A is spread by ingesting the virus, or fecal-to-mouth contact, said Texas Department of Health sanitarian Tim Long. Though not a food-bome virus, it could be present on food or an object touched by someone w ho is infected. Long said. Hepatitis A is difficult to contain for several reasons, Overman said. "The problem is that the time you're exposed to the time you're sick is very long — two to six weeks," she said. People could spread the virus wiihout knowing it before they showed symptoms themselves. "You can be shedding the virus, sharing it with family and friends," Overman said. Skipping pot-luck dinners for this Christmas can go a long way toward containing the outbreak, said New Braunfels city sanitarian Joe Lara. One person in the sen mg line who .touches a spoon with contaminated hands could spread the virus to everyone who handles the spoon after- Tum to Hepatitis A, Page 3A Cital il*ramn m 5Wl$l nreCWIHMmYiS Proposed aquifer rules better than none, say local residents BY BUBAN JAKOBSEN Staff Writer Conservation equipment required to sell water rights prompted questions from area citizens during an Edwards Aquifer Authority public hearing Thursday at Comal County Courthouse. Others gave nods of approval to proposed permit and transfer rules, the subject of the hearing. The proposed regulations affect well owners who have applied for permits to withdraw water from the Edwards Aquifer, which supplies 971 municipalities, industries and irrigators throughout an eight-county area in South Central Texas. Elton Scheel, who farms com and wheat on some 700 acres near Selma, asked EAA officials about transferring irrigation rights, an issue addressed in the proposed rules. According to the proposed rules, a landowner may transfer irrigation rights to another entity; however, the transferor can sell only that portion of a permitted groundwater right for irrigation that is used by equipment designed to conserve water. "The board's interpretation of that is, if it's (the water) not conserved, then it cannot be sold," said Greg Ellis, EAA general manager However, an irrigator may lease 50 percent of his water rights without being required to have conservation equipment intact, he said. Ellis explained how the rules could be compromised. "What's the difference between a sale and a 99-year lease?" Ellis asked, illustrating possible loopholes in the rules. Despite hypothetical circumstances Uke these, Ellis said the board intended to follow them if adopted in early January. The rules will provide well owners with a tangible set of regulations and alleviate confusion about pumping, transferring and other water issues, according to one resident. "This is beginning to make sense now," said Ray Bartram, who lives in Comal County but has muhiple-use wells in Medina County. Prior to the proposed rules. Bartram said he had nothing to go by w hen faced with legal matters about water usage. "Now a simple question will have a simple answer," he said. Roger Biggers, New Braunfels Utilities assistant manager of operations, also said he was pleased with publishing the rules as they were. "They (the rules) might not be perfect, but there's not a set of rules anywhere that are perfect," Biggers said. EAA board of directors w ill consider adopting the proposed permit rules during a Jan. 13 meeting. "TheyTI be effective that night," said Ellis, if the board approves the regulations. Cisneros indicted on 18 counts WASHINGTON (AP) — Former Housing Secretary Henry Cisneros was indicted Thursday on 18 felony counts of conspiracy, obstructing justice and making false statements to the FBI about payments to a framer mistress. Three other people, including the former mistress, were also charged in the 21 -count federal indictment. Barrett alleged that Cisneros made the false statements to FBI agents conducting a background investigation when he was nominated to President Clinton's Cabinet. Cisneros allegedly lied about payments to former mistress Linda Jones. The indictment made Cisneros the second Clinton Cabinet secretary to be iodjjcted. Former Agriculture Secretary Mike Espy was charged with accepting illegal gifts and lying to inaastif tors. From teft, Trent Wooteey, mother Kendm Wootesy and hang Christmas lights on Santa'* cottages at the North Poi*' HwateZfftune photo by Susan Fly* Enate* North Pole moves to lake By SUSAN FLYNT ENGLAND News Editor The magic of Christmas sparkles in children's eyes at the North Pole in Saltier. Those children include 38-year-okf Ricky Henderson, who created the store-front village a la Disney from scrap, donated materials arui pieces of the Project KISS Spook House he designed md created. Next to the Tye Preston Memorial Library on fami-to-Market 2673, the North Pole will be open from 4 to 8 p.m. today and from noon to 8 p.m. Saturday For $5 admission, children will be able to indulge in a village frill of hands-on Christmas projects — each one in a separate North Pole "cottage." Turn to Latta, Page 5AProtect your pipes from freezing — Page 000HH| ;
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King Kong
Release Date: 06 October 2008 | Certificate: Parental Guidance
Featuring: Jeff Bridges, Charles Grodin and Jessica Lange
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KING KONG is a remake of the 1933 classic about a giant ape from a lost world who falls in love with a beautiful woman (Jessica Lange) who has been kidnapped by native tribespeople as a sacrifice. Jeff Bridges and Charles Grodin also star.
Release Date: 06 October 2008
Certificate: PG - Parental Guidance
Actors: Jeff Bridges, Charles Grodin, Jessica Lange and Ed Lauter
Directed by: John Guillermin
Region 2
Aspect Ratio: 16:9 Anamorphic Wide Screen
Sound: Dolby Digital
Running Time: 129 minutes
Production Year: 1976
Main Language: English
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Catalogue No: OPTD1398


text:
The plot Thickens
"I'm a moonlit, hooded figure," said the eerie newcomer In a voice as parched as sand.
"Now, just hold on here," shouted MacKenzie. "That seems a bit redundant."
"Damn multiple authors," muttered Joe.
The band had just reached the bass drum part of The Exorcist theme. The smell of stale beer wafted through the pub. There was a scratchy silence, Tension built. Sentences got shorter.
And shorter.
Suddenly, the moonlit, hooded figure tore off his moonlit hood, revealing the most surprising plot turn yet.
Bella gasped. MacKenzie almost swallowed his pipe. Nick's death-rattle rose an octave. Sly's bosom heaved. So did the Frenchman.
"Impossible!" screamed the Red-Head.
"Yes," smiled the old, bearded man at the bar. "To continue this would seem so."


text:
Originally posted on Fox Sports North | Last updated 4/30/13
Glen Perkins insists he's not trying to strike out every batter he faces. It only seems that way for the Minnesota Twins closer. Since taking over as the team's closer midway through last season, Perkins has been lights-out in the ninth inning. This year, the Twins left-hander is a perfect 6-for-6 in save situations. Over his last four outings, he's struck out at least two batters an inning. In the first game against Miami in a double-header last week, Perkins struck out the side to earn his sixth save. "We have great fielders, but any time you can avoid using any fielders or them putting the ball in play, I think that's the best result," Perkins said. "If you strike a guy out, he's out. The ball's not going to fall in. It's not going to find a hole. I don't want to throw a lot of pitches, but if I can strike the guy out on three or four pitches, that's definitely my goal." It's a small sample size, but in nine games this year, Perkins is averaging 13.5 strikeouts per nine innings easily a career high. Last season, which included his first stint as the Twins' closer, Perkins fanned 10.0 batters per nine innings. He's also posted a WHIP (walks and hits per innings pitched) of 0.923 so far in 2013. When it comes to statistics, it's been well documented that Perkins is big into sabermetrics, which tends to delve deeper than the stats traditionally found in the box score. But he admits that sabermetrics numbers don't help him prepare for facing opposing batters. "That's just not a tool for evaluating scouting reports or how I want to pitch guys," Perkins said. "That's just more of a hindsight thing, like this is how I've done or this is things that I could improve. Obviously I'd like to strike the guys out. I don't want to walk them. And you don't want to give up home runs ever. That's really all there is to it. It's avoiding fly balls and it's avoiding walks." Perkins saved 16 games for the Twins last year after Matt Capps was sidelined with injury. This spring was Perkins' first as the full-time closer. Now that he's a month into the 2013 season, Perkins says things aren't much different than they were last season. "I guess I kind of got broken in last year," Perkins said. "For me, it's just been a continuation of what I've done the last couple years. It's just the ninth instead of the eighth or the seventh. It really hasn't been any adjustment or anything like that. You've still got to get them out no matter when it is." Added Twins catcher Joe Mauer: "I think he's just continuing where he left off. The season's still early but we feel pretty good when we give him the ball in the ninth." Perkins and Mauer are both Minnesota natives and both represented the United States in this winter's World Baseball Classic. But the current Twins teammates were also united on another team during their high school days. Perkins attended Stillwater High School while Mauer played at Cretin-Derham Hall. The two were roommates for a weekend during a Lions All-Star Game in Minnesota. "Little did I know he was going to be our closer and I was going to be the catcher," Mauer said. As good as Perkins has been early for the Twins, he's had a few bumps along the way through nine games. He gave up two runs on two walks and a hit in Sunday's 7-2 win over Texas and needed 28 pitches to do so. The only other game he allowed runs in was yet another non-save situation when he gave up a pair of runs in a 16-5 loss to the Mets. Perkins is admittedly not happy with his performance in those two games, although he's still yet to give up a run in a save situation. "The last thing I want to do in a game like (Saturday) is throw 28 pitches," Perkins said. "Those games, I probably don't focus as much on trying to strike guys out. I'd rather have a quick inning. I'd rather throw under 10 pitches if I can. So it's frustrating when I go out there because if it comes up where I pitch now, I'm coming off 28 instead of 10. But I definitely try to get them out every time regardless." The velocity on Perkins' fastball is down a bit early in the season, but that's not unexpected given the colder temperatures. According to FanGraphs, his fastball is averaging 93.8 mph this season compared to 94.9 mph a year ago. Perkins knows that his velocity will come with time. "I think I'm going in the right direction," he said. "I'll get stronger as the season goes on and then as the season goes on further I'll wear down a little bit. I'm not real happy with where my slider's at, more than my fastball. There's some room for improvement with my slider. I'm still working on that one." Even though Perkins is his own harshest critic, the Twins are glad to have him at the back end of the bullpen. After transitioning to that role in 2012, Perkins hasn't seemed to skip a beat in 2013. "He's kind of found his niche, coming in for one inning," Mauer said. "The last two seasons it's been in the ninth. It's been good. It's been fun to see." Follow Tyler Mason on Twitter.
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Congratulations! You leveled up, but you aren't logged in so we can't save your points.
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Luis Suarez - a compilation of his bad behaviour.
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"Every punch is thrown with bad intentions and the speed of the devil." - M. Tyson.
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Enjoy this WIN movie, and be proud of these people's amazing feats.
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This is what happens when someone inexperienced tackles a class V rapids.
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A compilation of incredible football trick shots and freestyle skills.
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Beautiful Film of Scuba Diving in a Newly Flooded Meadow.
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With talent like that, no wonder the Globetrotters never lose.
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You just want to see that kid at the end fall on his ass for trying to ride a bike with skis on.
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Some of the best fails in football, ever.
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A bike racer tries to get back on his bike after a crash which was no fault of his and then this happens.
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Text and photography copyright 2011 by David W. Lockeretz, all rights reserved. Information and opinions provided are kept current to the best of the author's ability. All readers hike at their own risk, and should be aware of the possible dangers of hiking, walking and other outdoor activities. The author does not take any responsibility for injuries sustained during hikes or walks on the routes described here. Check the informational links provided for up to date trail condition information.
Castlewood Trail (Fullerton)
The Castlewood Trail is a mile-long segment of the 12-mile Fullerton Loop, a route popular with cyclists. It makes a nice walk for before or after work, or even on a lunch break. On a clear day, you can see the ocean, Catalina Island, the San Gabriels and the Santa Ana Mountains.
From Chantilly, the trail ascends steeply for a few hundred yards before leveling out. It follows a ridge alongside a housing tract before descending to a junction. Take the right fork (the left leads back to Gilbert). You head into a wooded area, although the water tank on the left shatters any illusions of wilderness that you may have. You pass by another housing tract and then have a short stretch with very few signs of civilization before the trail ends at Rosecrans, by the fire station.
Fullerton has a wide variety of trails which, while they might not offer much of a wilderness experience, do provide good opportunities for outdoor recreation. If you enjoyed the Castlewood Trail, check out other parts of the Fullerton Loop, or other trails in the area. As with other neighborhood hiking trails, the Castlewood Trail might not be the stuff of hiking legend, but if you're in the area, it's well worth a visit.


text:
Grand BuffetChinese, Asian, Buffets
18305 S La Grange Rd
(708) 802-8908
Ray P.
Today was "hang-with-the-parents" day. And, when I asked where they wanted to have lunch, they both chimed in, "Grand Buffet!", like two little kids....read more
Bill P.
I've probably been to this place 5 or 7 times since it opened...mainly cuz it's right off I-80. I know, that's not a good excuse. What's funny is that...read more
Kevin C.
This was my first China Buffet exp. I have never tried sushi before. They have a person preparing fresh sushi all day. In my opinion it was delicious. They...read more
Tristan B.
Very typical Westernized "asian" buffet. Not bad, but nothing special. Sushi is decently prepared but very limited - fake crab meat and eel.read more
Milan N.
As someone who is picky about crab rangoons, I'm very pleased with the way Grand Buffet does theirs!read more
Corinna M.
Dinner buffet for only $11plus. Good food, bottomless drinks 2 thumbs up!!!read more
Amanda J.
Awesome selection!read more
Aaron A.
Expensive and the employees are rude as hello.read more
Kylie A.
They have a lot of food to choice from! It was really good!read more
Vince C.
Great foodread more


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Author's Note: Hello. I was bored and felt like playing around in Silver's head, so I wrote this. I felt really sorry for him, being a statue for six months and all. What could he possibly think about all that time?
I don't really like how this turned out, but... I also know that fanfics are usually more fun to read than the author thinks or claims they are, so I decided to post it anyway. Hope you guys enjoy.
It's getting lighter and I can see the outline of my best friend's face. It strikes me as strange; Green and I haven't left each other's presence in months and yet I've barely seen her. Someone has moved us into a storage cabinet somewhere. Apparently, the careless movers ignored the "fragile" tape on us and lay Green on her side facing my direction. Can she see me too? It occurs to me that the others may not be conscious like I am – though I don't know why they wouldn't be, other than Yellow, who was sleeping in the first place.
Which leads me back to the same frustrating line of questions. What happened to us? Are we really alive? Will we ever go back to normal, or are we fated to remain like this for all eternity – pure spectators of life – until someone decides to make us into monuments and we end up on a street corner where adults will ignore us and children will carve graffiti onto our legs?
Will I ever see my father again?
I'm sick of having the same frustrated internal monologue. I wish someone would talk to me so I could have something fresh to think about. But everyone ignores us. It's as if they've never considered the possibility that we still have feelings. And it goes beyond boring; it's lonely. It's lonely for me – and I don't spend much time socializing in the first place. I can only imagine how lonely it must be for a people-person like Green.
Green. She's a nice topic to redirect my ever-circling train of thought.
Green. An amazing thing about Green is how much she's changed while still staying the same. Perhaps this is true of everyone. I wouldn't know. There's no one else in my life that I've stayed in contact with long enough to judge in that way. Green has been in my life from my earliest memory until now. It feels strange because I usually sort my memories into two categories – before we escaped, and since we escaped. Green is the only one who recurs in both sets of memories, and though I know she's the same person, in my mind, I can't help but split her into two Greens. Masked Child Green, and Free Green. I was very young back then, when I knew Masked Child Green, but there are many things about her I haven't forgotten – though my perception of things has changed so much since then that it has skewed most of the emotion associated with those memories. It was a different world in the masked man's lair, and looking back on it, I feel like a foreign observer.
The place was a world of nightmares. That man had a way of taking every good thing in the world and twisting it into something so evil we could never trust it again. One of those things was human interaction. All of it was negative. Will and Karen were psychopaths. The masked man was worse than that – he was volatile. One minute, he'd be generous or even affectionate; the next he'd explode into violent rage. For four years, these were the only people Green and I had contact with. I understand that this world has crazy people as well, but a crucial difference between here and there is that even unkind people here seem to value kindness in others. To the masked children, however, life was a contest to see who could be the cruelest. And Green participated. She had to; to be good would mean to be an easy target.
Green somehow ended up in an eternal feud with Karen. The two didn't see each other much, as the masked man kept each pair separated, but Green and I often passed Will and Karen in the halls and we occasionally sparred together. Neither girl ever missed an opportunity for a cutting remark. Looking back on it, I see that Karen was six years older and it really wasn't a fair rivalry, but Green managed to hold her own. Once she somehow set the shower so that it when Karen turned it on, it immediately sprayed her with scalding water. Another time when Karen threatened me, Green went completely batty, attacked her, and even ripped some of the girl's hair out. It left Karen so scared that she left us alone for a week. But it didn't make Green feel any better. She hated to interact with Karen at all. When Green won, she would laugh in victory just like Karen laughed, but then she'd go to her room and cry just the same as she did when Karen won. The cruelty contest just absorbed all her energy and made her hate herself. But pretending she enjoyed it must have made it, somehow, more endurable.
Pretending is something that both Green has always done – before we escaped, and now.
It's grown lighter by the minute. I can see her petrified face clearly now, and it catches me off-guard a bit. It's been so long since I've seen her that I've forgotten what she looks like. All these months, when thinking about her, I've been picturing her with the baby-face she had when we were kids. Seeing her now, I remember how her chin is pointier and her nose is sharp, and her hair reaches her lower back.
There's something else about her face that also catches my attention – her expression. Pure shock. Her mouth is partially open and her eyes are round. She really doesn't even look scared – she had no time to realize what was happening in time to get scared – she just looks shocked.
This is ironic. Of all the poses Green could have chosen had she been forewarned of her fate… the world had instead caught and trapped her in a rare genuine facial expression.
How long has it been now – a month or two? It must be the longest Green has gone without wearing a mask.
Masks. There's another train of thought for me. The Mask of Ice – or, Pryce – he never told us why we had to wear those masks. The mask rule was the one rule that all of the masked children hated – except Green and I. I didn't hate the masks because I'd never known anything different; wearing a mask was like wearing pants. Green, however, did remember life without masks, yet actually preferred to wear one. She said it made it easier to hide things. She told me this one day in response to a question.
"What does a face do?" I'd asked.
"A face? Um, well besides seeing with your eyes and breathing with your nose and things – your face shows your feelings."
"Really?" I'd asked, fascinated. I imagined being able to look at people's faces and read their minds. I imagined being able to communicate without speaking. It sounded good to me. I'd never cared for speaking. "How?"
"Oh. Well… you know," she'd fumbled. It had been so long since she'd seen a face that she'd had to search hard for a memory to use as an example. "If you cry, people see you and know you're sad. If you're happy, you smile – um, your mouth makes a bowl-shape – and people can tell."
I tugged at my own mask. "I want to see a face. I wish we didn't have to wear masks."
"When we escape, we won't," Green promised. Then her tone changed. "But here, I'm glad we have them. It's really hard to lie without a mask. In the outside world it's OK because you don't need to lie. Even if you don't do well enough, people don't hurt you."
"So that's why in the outside world we can show our faces?"
"Of course." Green patted my head. "Once we escape, we'll never have to lie again."
But Green was wrong. Once we reached the real world, we realized that it wasn't as kind as Green had remembered. At least not to lost children with no money and no social skills. I think it broke Green's heart to realize this. She'd lived the last four years of her life with nothing but the hope that even though she lived in a cruel world and played those cruel games, she did not truly belong there. The hope that she and I would someday break free from that twisted reality. The hope that somewhere there was a place where people wouldn't hurt us, but accept us as their fellow human beings. She just had to get there. And then she got there. And people didn't want us after all.
Now she didn't even have the hope to get her through.
She went a little crazy after that. Did people love her for being a good person? No. No one cared about that. People only cared about money. If that's what they wanted, we'd simply have to get it. There was no other world to escape to this time.
Thus began Green's desperate quest for money. Of course anyone in our situation would have been desperate for money, but for Green, it was different. Most people want money so they can by comforts and necessities; Green wanted money just because it was money. She never wanted to spend it on anything. Whenever she appeared with stolen money and I asked her what she intended to do with it, she would explain some complicated investment or scheme that would only lead to making more money.
But pure thievery alone could only make so much. It wasn't long before people began to recognize us and kick us out of their shops before we had the chance to steal. People asked us why we loitered around their stores, and we couldn't just run away anymore. We would have to learn to lie.
So for hours at a time, Green and I would sit together on the roof of the Goldrenrod Department Store and watch people through the telescopes. Green was very particular about it; she drew sketches in her notebook that detailed facial gestures so minute that I was incapable of detecting them. I would look at a stranger's face with total conviction that he was unreadable, only to look over Green's shoulder to discover her jotting down notes about the man's personal life. She'd notice the tiniest details, like crinkles around the mouth and dilated pupils. It always amazed me. I had barely grasped the concept that a smile is a frown upside-down.
After Green had mastered the science of reading facial expression, she moved on to the art of deceiving people with it. I never tried that kind of thing – I never really learned how – but I would watch as Green fluttered her eyes to sneak into sneak into PokéMart without an Trainer ID Card, and bite her lip out of shame when caught stealing. At first the lies she told were relatively small – no, she didn't steal money from that old lady; the three dollars was a birthday gift – and things like that. But small lies didn't make much money – and without much money, there wasn't much acceptance.
Her lies grew bigger. She learned that pubescent boys were kinder to her when she laughed at their jokes. She learned that people would listen to her if she posed as an adult by putting Poké Balls in her dress and having Ditto sharpen her facial features. And it got to the point that she was always pretending, any time she showed her face to anyone but me. She wasn't really showing her face, not her own – because, after all, wasn't a face what you used to communicate your own feelings?
Thus I began to internally refer to her disguises and lies as masks.
Over the next few months, she developed a complex collection of masks. Some actually involved Ditto covering her face, but most were simply Green's manipulation of her own face. When her eyes were round and her mouth was half-open, that was her friendly mask. She used it on lonely shopkeepers who would give her better deals when they thought she was honestly impressed with their product and honestly wanted to be their friend. And then there was the sorry mask she wore when confronted by those she had stolen from – she would burst in tears and "confess" that she had only stolen because her family was poor and her mother was in the hospital and would die if Green couldn't come up with an impossible amount of money in the next month. If she wore this mask well, she not only got away with what she'd stolen, but was often given more. And then there were other, smaller masks that she began to wear out of habit – wrinkling her nose when shown spinach despite the fact that she didn't mind eating it, or laughing at a joke even if it wasn't the least bit amusing. Masks like these she wore everywhere, to fool everyone. Except me. She never lied to me; at least, she didn't back then…
There was one mask in particular that I never understood. It was the cruel mask. She didn't use if often; only when no other mask would have worked. It was like this: when someone discovered Green had been lying to him, Green's usually policy was to lie more. But sometimes there would be smart ones who didn't fall for it twice. These people got weepy or angry, and they'd chase her down and tell her how much they hated her or how she'd taken advantage of them and broken their hearts. Then is when, Green would put on her cruel mask and just laugh. Head held high, tongue outstretched, she'd cackle and sometimes throw in a rude jeer or two. This would make the victims angrier or sadder, and the more emotional they got, the more she'd laugh.
The only thing that was accomplished by this was that the victims grew more aggravated. Sometimes they even attacked her. Whether or not they did, tricking Trainers into thinking she was a heartless female Snubbul had no advantage, and it would have been far simpler for her to simply escape. Why would she wear this mask? The idea that she really did like making people hate her was unthinkable – nobody likes to be hated, and Green didn't like to hurt people. That she made clear. She wasn't above hurting people at that point, but if cruelty had been her objective, she could have done a whole lot worse than she did. Either way, that simply wasn't Green. Green was a good person.
So who was she trying to fool?
It was a great mystery to me in my childhood, but now I think I know. She was trying to fool herself. Just like she did when she played the cruelty game as a child.
Looking back on those circumstances, it's a wonder that Green turned out the way she did. She is a good person. She does – used to do – bad things, but she really is good. She always took care of me.
I… think it's because of me that she did manage to resist the pressure to become like the other masked children. Not through anything I did, but because I was there – an innocent little boy to protect. That way, she didn't forget how to be kind. Now I understand why the both of us always went into frenzy when the other was hurt or threatened. I needed Green. I couldn't have made it without her protection. Green was independent, but she needed me, too. I was her last link to humanity.
I was her last link. Her other links… she's gotten them back by now.
I recall the way I felt when I finally heard her call her first Pokémon "Jiggly." I was just… stunned. Something – internal or external, I didn't know at the time – had happened that had allowed her to shed her inner fears. Jigglypuff's new nickname was just the beginning. Day after day, I watched her get brighter and brighter. She smiled more, giggled more, skipped around more. To other people, she lied less – yet I knew she was keeping a secret from me. I didn't know what it was until Senior Red of all people mentioned it to me: she'd found her parents. He'd looked baffled to hear that she hadn't told me yet. For me… I wasn't sure what I felt.
Why hadn't she told me? That question bothered me the most. Did she not want me around? She had her Pallet Town friends now – the friends she should have had. Was I just a painful reminder of her past? Green couldn't leave me behind – I needed her then just as much as I had when we were children.
And there it was – that's what had changed – Green no longer needed me. It took a few days to absorb the concept. I lost a bit of sleep over it.
I'll admit I had selfish motives for sending her those clothes – those clothes she's frozen in now. Now that she didn't need me, I was afraid – trivially so – that she'd forget me. If she wore my present, she'd have to remember. It was childish, I know.
Green finally called me to thank me for the clothes I sent, and I mentioned her parents directly. It turns out that she hadn't said anything because she felt guilty. She took the hat that I'd given her and tried it on over the video-chat, blushing out of pleasure of new clothes and embarrassment that she could look so beautiful – and I knew that things would never be the same again.
An image appeared in my head, a rare happy memory from the base at Mahogany. The Mask of Ice had ordered Green and I to read an essay which compared and contrasted evolution and exchange. I barely knew my letters, so Green read the essay aloud, periodically checking to make sure I understood. I remember how I mulled over the working of exchange – the paradox of Pokémon forming the same bonds with a new human, but never being able to truly rid itself of its bonds with its original Trainer – and what if I found a new "trainer"? Would I still remain a masked child inside?
But Green had barely thought about that. She had different questions. "Silver…" she'd said once we finished the section on evolution, "if a Pokémon evolves… is it still the same?"
I hadn't known what to answer. "Of course it's still the same entity…"
"But it changes!" Green broke in, flustered. "If its name changes… and its body changes… and its personality changes… then what else is left? How do you know what part of it belongs to the Pokémon and what part is just an evolution?"
It bothered her, and I didn't have answers. All I could do was hug her and say, "But even if the Pokémon evolves, you can still be its friend." In hindsight, those probably weren't the most comforting words I could have used. But they calmed Green down and she hugged me back so tightly that it was almost enough.
The flashback ended and I was left staring at the sky and holding the PokéGear that had recently born the sound of her voice. She had evolved. Her name wasn't changed, but she was so much more willing to reveal her identity. Her body had changed, of course… and her personality? That's different now too. What's left?
Green is left. Well, a statue of her is left, but suddenly I feel like she'll get through it. She's still in there somewhere – the Green who read to me, who escaped with me, who showed me her face when she couldn't show it to anyone else. It's the same Green who lied, stole, cheated, and lied about it again. It's the same Green who bit her lip in nervousness over the thought of reuniting with her parents, who caught the little girl – Senior Yellow – who was falling from the sky and nestled her against her chest and cooed over her adorable sleep talking, and the same Green who excitedly burst out spontaneous plans for a PokéDex holder get-together. It's all Green. It's who she is.
I look back at her face and remember when I saw it for the first time. I was wrong earlier when I thought it had changed. It really just hasn't. The only important difference is that she shows it to other people.
But even if the Pokémon evolves, you can still be its friend…
Again I think about what will happen when we return to life. She'll glace around, wink at Blue, tease Yellow, and high-five Red. Then she'll turn around. She'll lock eyes with me. She'll smile at me – it's her job to smile at me in social events, or no one else will – and then she'll pat my shoulder to herd me into the excited chatter. Her eyes will be on Blue the whole time, searching for a crack in his shell out of which she can draw his attention. She'll hug everyone, steal their possessions, and then return them. She'll complain about having been a statue.
And then she'll finally skip away into the arms of her parents. Because she's finally ready to stop cowering in fear over the orders given to her by a madman long ago, and ready to stop lying to herself that she's happy, and ready to start being who she is. Everyone, now, can see Green as the good person I saw all along, and they lover her for it. They accept her as part of their world, and I'm happy for her. I really am.


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Search Results: 'Operation Barbarossa'
Operation Barbarossa: the Complete Organisational and Statistical Analysis, and Military Simulation Volume I
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In June 1941 the Wehrmacht launched Operation Barbarossa: the attack on the USSR and the largest land invasion in recorded history. Operation Barbarossa: the Complete Organisational and Statistical... More > Analysis, and Military Simulation focuses on 1941 - when the USSR came closest to defeat. It includes full analyses of the belligerents' armed forces, weapons, equipment, personnel, transport, logistics, war-production, mobilisation and replacements. The work employs a unique military simulation methodology, extending from the tactical to the strategic level, and applies this methodology to each of the belligerents. Volume I, the first of six volumes, is primarily concerned with the structure of this methodology, but uses many of the events and weapons from Operation Barbarossa as illustrative case studies. The complete work represents the most historically accurate, advanced and comprehensive analysis of the first six months of the largest and most decisive military campaign of WWII.< Less
Operation Barbarossa: the Complete Organisational and Statistical Analysis, and Military Simulation Volume IIA
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Operation Barbarossa: Volume IIA concerns the Wehrmacht. All the significant German weapon systems and combat squads used in the campaign are analysed using the quantitative methodology detailed in... More > Volume I, along with the contextual history. An assessment of each weapon system's inherent 'combat power' is provided, as well as attributes such as the relative anti-tank, anti-personnel and anti-aircraft values. Volume IIA then focuses on the detailed Kriegstarkenachweisungen (KStN, or TOE) for German land units (including those in the West), as well as the unit's actual organisation and equipment. All significant units in the German Army (Heer), Waffen SS, Luftwaffe and security forces are included; ranging from the largest panzer divisions, down to small anti-aircraft companies, military-police units, Landesschutzen battalions, and rail-road and construction companies. In all cases the data is presented in detailed tables, using the weapon systems and combat squads previously analysed.< Less
Operation Barbarossa: the Complete Organisational and Statistical Analysis, and Military Simulation Volume IIIA
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Volume IIIA relates to the Soviet armed forces, mobilisation and war-economy during 1941. All significant Soviet weapon systems and combat squads used in the campaign are analysed, along with a... More > contextual history. An assessment of each weapon system's inherent 'combat power' is provided, as well as attributes such as the relative anti-tank and anti-personnel values. Volume IIIA then focuses on the detailed Shtaty (TOEs) for all the Soviet land unit types fielded during 1941. All significant units in the RKKA (Red Army), VVS, VMF, PVO and NKVD are included; ranging from the largest mechanised corps and tank divisions, down to small mortar battalions and NKVD security companies. Also included are the most detailed Orders of Battle ever published on the Red Army, PVO and NKVD forces in June 1941. Even small and obscure units are included down to battalion and company level. Lastly, Volume IIIA examines in detail every unit's actual personnel and equipment in each of the USSR's Western Military Districts.< Less
Operation Barbarossa: the Complete Organisational and Statistical Analysis, and Military Simulation Volume IIB
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Volume IIB completes the Wehrmacht, and the German mobilisation and war-economy, in 1941. It includes the most detailed Orders of Battle ever published on the German Army (Heer), Luftwaffe and Waffen... More > SS (across the whole Reich) in June-July 1941. Even the smallest and most obscure ground and air units are included, while the Luftwaffe OOBs include details on aircraft types and strengths. Also scrutinised are: the personnel and equipment assigned to combat-units in each army or reserve-force in all areas of the Reich; the ground and air unit reinforcements as well as those newly mobilised; the military personnel and equipment that became available in the Reich during 1941; the Replacement Army; the mobilisation process and resources used; the available replacements and those sent east; the logistical supply of the Wehrmacht (the varying Supply Distribution Efficiency); the Kriegsmarine forces in the east; and the Wehrmacht killed, wounded, missing/POW, unfit and recuperated casualties.< Less
World War 2 Operation Barbarosa
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OPERATION BARBAROSSA: One hundred and ten German Divisions smashed across the Russian Border in June of 1941, destroying and encircling every Russian Army in its path. The poorly led and equipped... More > Russians fell back into the vast recesses of the Russian Steppe, biding their time until the newly erected factories East of the Ural Mountains began to produce and then out produce the German ability to destroy them. By 1943, the Germans were in full retreat. The defeats at Stalingrad, North Africa and the U-Boat offensive, forced the Germans over on to the defense, vainly trying to contain a shrinking front line.< Less
Nietzsche: The God of Groundhog Day
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Is Groundhog Day the greatest philosophical movie of all time? It examines Nietzsche's eternal recurrence, Camus' Myth of Sisyphus, and the possibility of becoming a Superman and even a god. Did... More > Nietzsche's atheism disguise a pious Lutheran spirit? What is the basis of our love of music? What are the implications of building a machine that gives us everything we want? Is narrative non-fiction a form of parasitism? Do novels have personalities? How can a book be loved by some and hated by others? Is the publishing industry dominated by people of a certain Myers-Briggs type, and are certain sections of the population being denied the sorts of books they would like to read because the books they enjoy aren't rated by commissioning editors? Is the human race destined to be always stupid? Did German philosopher Hegel think he was God? This is a book by the Pythagorean Illuminati.< Less
Three Kings: Axis Royal Armies on the Russian Front 1941
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THREE KINGS: AXIS ROYAL ARMIES ON THE RUSSIAN FRONT 1941, is about the armed forces of the kingdoms of Italy, Romania, and Hungary, which fought alongside the German Wehrmacht, in the 1941 invasion... More > of the Soviet Union. Foreword written by Colonel John R. Griffin (retired), US Army Special Forces. Author Patrick Cloutier discusses the motivations of the three Axis kingdoms for going to war against the USSR, the organization of the forces which participated, their roles as integral components of Army Group South, and traces their movements and progress during the course of Operation Barbarossa. He makes reference to the books of a number of authors - including Russian historians - through whose works we get a detailed view of events in the Ukraine in 1941. Included are accounts of Soviet armored trains in combat, identification of Red Army units which opposed the Germans and their Axis allies, and discussion of the political considerations which may have influenced the military decisions taken by both sides.< Less
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