her. They were mothers and fathers, neighbors and friends, but not to her. Each person in that crowd loved and cared about
someone, but that someone wasn’t her. They all came not obligingly, but out of a strange obligatory sense of respect that they bore for a woman whom they didn’t know or try to know.
Where they saw a hard leading figure, all I saw was a woman who had loved her cause dearly, and she paid the ultimate price for it.
A hushed silence fell over the crowd, as they watched the wooden casket start its final journey. Babies were silent and toddlers were hushed with their thumbs in their mouths. A young couple
beside me, barely in their twenties, held each other while an older couple in their seventies did the same. No one cried, yet the tone was the very essence of respect. For once, everyone was still
and the air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Even in her death, the commander had a way of bringing the Red cause together. At this moment in time, no one cared who was a Trigon or who was a human. We were all one and the same, united
under one sorrow.
As the casket floated by, watched by dry eyes, the people threw flowers along the now empty path. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gerrard motion to me and I followed him up a group of stairs
that wound around one of the giant Ever Trees.
At the top was a sparse platform. Wooden and simple, it creaked as I set foot on it. The casket was already there, and so was General Devonport, the boy, and the commander’s secretary. It
took me a moment to realize that the commander had no family. It was no secret that she had devoted her all to the cause, but I hadn’t realized just how much that was.
A howling wind suddenly came out of a cloud and tousled the flowers that lay on the casket. It seemed that it too was saying goodbye. Among us, the wind was the only one who cried.
Gerrard and Devonport opened the wooden casket, revealing the body for the first time since that fateful night when I found the commander dead. She looked the same, still sleeping peacefully,
her skin still blanched. Even in death, she bore the mark of the White.
The generals pushed the casket to the edge of the platform and in one swoop dropped only the body into the tranquil pool below. The surface of the pool seemed miles from the platform and, as the
body of the commander dropped, I watched her limbs flail.
Her arms were outreached toward us, as her body twisted and turned in inhuman ways. Her head finally dropped down and she dove into the water headfirst. We could barely see the splash from where
we stood and we didn’t hear it in the least. Then all signs that the commander had ever existed disappeared from view.
After the funeral, all thoughts shifted to preparing for the unavoidable battle. The boy, the two generals, and I all met at least twice a day to discuss the details of the cause.
“When are we going to announce you to the people?” Devonport asked again.
“We can’t yet,” the boy replied.
“I agree,” Gerrard said. “The commander’s death had to be an inside job and whoever did it is probably still lurking around here somewhere. We can’t announce the
new leader without putting his life in danger.”
“You mean to say that we have spies here?” Devonport asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed softly.
It was a hard thought that one or more people among us had pledged their allegiance to the White. They gave up the one thing that made them mortal for a life, if you could even call it that, of
an antiseptic nature. They walked among us and were just like us, yet they would do whatever they could to destroy us.
“But wouldn’t they look like an unfeeling?” I couldn’t help asking, despite Devonport’s sneering.
“Unless they’re not,” Gerrard said.
“What do you mean?”
“They could be of the White, but not be a full unfeeling yet. The Pure One could be testing their loyalty and sent them out to spy for the White first.”
“And how
someone, but that someone wasn’t her. They all came not obligingly, but out of a strange obligatory sense of respect that they bore for a woman whom they didn’t know or try to know.
Where they saw a hard leading figure, all I saw was a woman who had loved her cause dearly, and she paid the ultimate price for it.
A hushed silence fell over the crowd, as they watched the wooden casket start its final journey. Babies were silent and toddlers were hushed with their thumbs in their mouths. A young couple
beside me, barely in their twenties, held each other while an older couple in their seventies did the same. No one cried, yet the tone was the very essence of respect. For once, everyone was still
and the air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Even in her death, the commander had a way of bringing the Red cause together. At this moment in time, no one cared who was a Trigon or who was a human. We were all one and the same, united
under one sorrow.
As the casket floated by, watched by dry eyes, the people threw flowers along the now empty path. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gerrard motion to me and I followed him up a group of stairs
that wound around one of the giant Ever Trees.
At the top was a sparse platform. Wooden and simple, it creaked as I set foot on it. The casket was already there, and so was General Devonport, the boy, and the commander’s secretary. It
took me a moment to realize that the commander had no family. It was no secret that she had devoted her all to the cause, but I hadn’t realized just how much that was.
A howling wind suddenly came out of a cloud and tousled the flowers that lay on the casket. It seemed that it too was saying goodbye. Among us, the wind was the only one who cried.
Gerrard and Devonport opened the wooden casket, revealing the body for the first time since that fateful night when I found the commander dead. She looked the same, still sleeping peacefully,
her skin still blanched. Even in death, she bore the mark of the White.
The generals pushed the casket to the edge of the platform and in one swoop dropped only the body into the tranquil pool below. The surface of the pool seemed miles from the platform and, as the
body of the commander dropped, I watched her limbs flail.
Her arms were outreached toward us, as her body twisted and turned in inhuman ways. Her head finally dropped down and she dove into the water headfirst. We could barely see the splash from where
we stood and we didn’t hear it in the least. Then all signs that the commander had ever existed disappeared from view.
After the funeral, all thoughts shifted to preparing for the unavoidable battle. The boy, the two generals, and I all met at least twice a day to discuss the details of the cause.
“When are we going to announce you to the people?” Devonport asked again.
“We can’t yet,” the boy replied.
“I agree,” Gerrard said. “The commander’s death had to be an inside job and whoever did it is probably still lurking around here somewhere. We can’t announce the
new leader without putting his life in danger.”
“You mean to say that we have spies here?” Devonport asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed softly.
It was a hard thought that one or more people among us had pledged their allegiance to the White. They gave up the one thing that made them mortal for a life, if you could even call it that, of
an antiseptic nature. They walked among us and were just like us, yet they would do whatever they could to destroy us.
“But wouldn’t they look like an unfeeling?” I couldn’t help asking, despite Devonport’s sneering.
“Unless they’re not,” Gerrard said.
“What do you mean?”
“They could be of the White, but not be a full unfeeling yet. The Pure One could be testing their loyalty and sent them out to spy for the White first.”
“And how
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