Chapter 13: A Guilt That Came Early

"All clear, everyone out," Lieutenant Bulgers issued his latest order the moment the last set of footsteps faded into silence a few minutes earlier.

One by one, they began to emerge from their hiding places. A collective exhale of relief escaped us all at once, none of us even noticed we were doing it. Even Nira, who had been trembling at my side just moments before, was already crawling out ahead of me, despite everything she had shown of her fear.

"Horgan, you check out what's really going on in the sky. Then, find Sergeant Olszewski's squad and bring him here."

"Right away, sir."

"C'mon, girl," Caspian's boot nudged the table leg with a gentle kick, jolting my head toward him. "You've won this round of hide-and-seek. How long are you planning to stay down there? Ha!"

Huh?... What? I tried to do the same with everybody, but for me, everything felt impossibly heavy, as though my entire body was refusing every command my brain sent down the line. After all of that, something had taken root in the back of my mind, it's a quiet and irrational conviction that whatever lay beyond the edge of this table was a world that was no longer safe. The feeling that something terrible would happen the moment I crawled out, it did not just linger, it haunted me.

"Hey, you heard the Lieutenant. Come on," Ashton appeared, crouching down and meeting my eyes.

I tried to follow after him but for some reason my body felt impossibly heavy, as though every nerve I had was genuinely asleep and not responding to anything at all.

"...I can't," I complained to Ashton, who was already waiting for me.

"What do you mean you can't?" Ashton raised an eyebrow, his expression full of questions. "Are you alright?"

".....Are they really gone?" I didn't even know what I was asking, it just came out of my mouth.

"Hah? Of course they is."

But was it truly safe? What if someone was still hiding out there, waiting, crouched in the dark, ready to spring on us the moment we let our guard down?

Besides, this was their territory. They were everywhere here. Weren't they always? Wasn't that always how it worked?

I checked my own hands. Without realizing it, they were still trembling on their own. "I-I-I can't feel things, I will be fine right here. J-j-just leave me here."

"What-"

"Alright. Step aside. Let me handle her," the scuffling of boot soles spread across the floor toward where I was sitting.

"Yes, sir," Ashton answered the order and immediately rose from where he had been crouching.

"Elise. It's me."

The moment Ashton moved away, his place was taken by Lieutenant Bulgers. Still with that same gentle voice of his, threaded through with just enough authority to keep it grounded, he greeted me as he lowered himself down, doing his best to bring his eyes level with the space beneath the table.

"How you doin', Elise?" Lieutenant Bulgers curved his lips into an easy and making it to unhurried expression.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Lieutenant-"

"Wrong answer," the Lieutenant cut me off without missing a beat. "I'll ask again. How you doin', Elise?"

"Uh, not good enough?" I was too disoriented to give him a proper response, so instead I ended up throwing the question back at him.

"Then let's do something about that," Lieutenant Bulgers was smirking now, looking thoroughly amused, though for the life of me I could not figure out what I had done to make him that way. "First, breathe slowly and let's give those hard workers inside your head a little fresh air. Breathe in, hold it, let them enjoy it for a moment, now.... let it out."

So I spent the next stretch of time following the Lieutenant's cues, breathing manually to his guidance. And sure enough, little by little it felt as though the weight pressing down on every part of my body was beginning to lift, giving way to a sensation that was, mercifully, something close to relief.

"Now, second step," Lieutenant Bulgers extended his hand toward me, his broad palm open wide in front of my face. "Now, fix your eyes on my hand. Keep looking at it and give yourself one single task, that the next thing you have to do is reach for it. Don't reach yet, everything has its process, just focus on it for now."

I absorbed every word he said with careful attention, and began fixing my focus onto his palm. It was lined with the natural creases that mapped every hand, but scattered across certain parts I could make out what looked like calluses worn into the skin. It was not the palm of someone who possessed any kind of magic, and yet for reasons I could not explain, I'm too caught up with it.

"Good, now the breaking point, take my hand," he said, flexing his fingers toward me.

Huh? It's moving? Somehow, without fully understanding when it happened, I found I had reclaimed control of my own body. The trembling was still there, but at least now I could direct myself wherever I wanted, on my own terms.

As though every cloud of doubt that had been smothering my mind began to thin and drift away, I did not wait much longer before accepting his invitation and reaching out to take his hand. I could feel the roughness of his palm making contact with my own.

"Good, now nice and slow," Lieutenant Bulgers began to pull me forward, gently and without any rush. "Easy, easy, no need to hurry."

Simply from holding his hand alone it felt as though something of his energy was transferring itself into my body. Following his lead, I began to crawl out from beneath the table.

From another perspective, should this not be embarrassing? Did I not look exactly like a toddler learning to crawl for the first time? I did not know. What occupied my mind right now was nothing more than following every bit of guidance the Lieutenant offered, and I felt that as long as he was there ahead of me, everything was going to be alright.

Yes, everything was going to be alright. Even if we were about to push further inland from here, I felt we could make it through whatever came our way. Inland? Was I really that far gone? I had no idea. It was nothing more than an honest feeling, nothing more than that.

The heaviness that remained did not make it impossible to move my knees. As I finally emerged fully from the shadow of the table, the dim light of the lantern hit my face and I instinctively raised my palm to shield myself from it. It was strange, I should not have been under that shadow for nearly as long as it had felt, and yet it felt like ages, long enough that even the light felt unfamiliar.

"See? The world hasn't ended yet," Lieutenant Bulgers murmured, giving my shoulder a single pat, firm enough to make it fully register that I was out. "Yeah, it's still pretty fucked up out there, but that's exactly why we're here. To save it."

"Saviors of the world, huh?" Caspian chimed in from beside us. "I like that."

"Alright, you good enough," Lieutenant Bulgers gave both my shoulders a familiar pat. "We're moving out soon. I want you to get ready."

"Yes, sir," I answered, doing my best to sound as normal as possible.

Honestly, I had nothing left to prepare unlike the others who were still busy checking their weapons or lifting Nira's father, whose name we had been told was Phillippe, back onto the table as he had been before.

But after a while they all ended up in the same position as me, with nothing left to do either. I was sitting at the dining chair now, quietly working through a glass of warm milk that Nira had made again after the previous one had been thrown out along with the coffees on Lieutenant Bulgers' orders.

While I nursed my warm drink, Nira had been standing behind me for a while now, helping to pick out the leaves tangled in my hair, particularly the worst of it concentrated in my braid. I had already told her not to bother, but Nira insisted on letting her carry out this free grooming session, and in the end I simply gave in.

The atmosphere right now was quiet, genuinely quiet, but it was nothing like the quiet from before. This was a different kind, quiet in all the wrong ways, a heaviness to the silence that made the room feel stifling. The enemy column was gone, but the traces they had left behind were still very much felt by all of us.

Every member of the squad simply lined the walls of the room in silence, eyes drifting toward the gaps and openings leading outside of the dining room. The only thing that gave any of us even a small measure of ease was the sound of soft, gentle humming. Though she had been so terrified before, for a girl who had just narrowly survived something horrifying out in the wheat field and then endured the passing of that enemy column with its suffocating wall of intimidation, she was genuinely deserving of some credit for how quickly she had pulled herself back together.

Perhaps it was because she had already adapted psychologically. However you looked at it, this country had been in the grip of the Varexil Empire for a decade, so terrible things had likely been passing right before her eyes for as long as she could remember.

I'm ashamed of myself. No matter how hard I tried to push it away, the image of my own cowardice before kept thundering back through my mind again and again.

Was I really that much of a coward? To the point of convincing myself that the leg of a dining table was the safest hiding place in the entire world.

I know, I know that. Yes, humans have three common response stages when faced with danger bearing down on them: flee, freeze, or fight. It seemed my brain had chosen to freeze, but that mechanism had become a double edged sword, because even after the danger had passed and moved on, it kept running on its own, failing to read that the threat was no longer interested in us.

Even so, I could not use any of that as an excuse. For now I was fortunate enough to still have some shred of awareness left and had managed to pull through, but what if it happened again somewhere down the road?

I truly owed Lieutenant Bulgers everything for that, the same Lieutenant who was now crouching by the exit, watching and waiting for Horgan to return. God, when it came down to it, who was actually supposed to be the medic here, him or me?

On top of that, it made me genuinely curious how he had managed to handle what I was going through with such ease. Looking back at my time in medical training, the material covering psychological problems on the battlefield had been remarkably thin. People simply wrote it off as exhaustion or fatigue, so unsurprisingly this world was still well behind when it came to psychological medicine.

"...Lavei flambre amé blum," Nira murmured something from behind me, bringing her humming to a stop. "Avae tu olye ria Ulvrike?"

"She says your red hair is beautiful," Caspian translated without being asked, volunteering the service before I could even request it. "She also wants to know if you are from Ulvrike."

"Ah, thank you. it's from my mother's side," I answered, letting Caspian handle the translation back to Nira afterward.

It was no wonder Nira had asked. From the very beginning, red hair had always been a genetic marker associated with Ulvrike and its cousin nations. My mother had immigrated to Arken when she was young, and that red hair had been passed down to me along with everything else.

Ulvrike itself sat just to the northwest of the Lonfre Republic, which meant it would likely be our next liberation target once this country was finally free. Though what came after that stage was still very much a mystery.

"Good country, though she never liked the food. She also has an older sister who followed her husband there," Caspian continued translating as Nira shared details about her own family. "Though at this point it has been seven years since the two of them lost contact."

"Well, that adds one more name to the list of reasons we need to liberate that country as soon as possible."

"Strong heroine, I see," Caspian remarked dryly.

I regretted it almost immediately, the embarrassment creeping up on me right after the words had already left my mouth. I had tried to stop myself before Caspian could catch me saying something that cringeworthy, but of course it was far too late for that. A small laugh drifted down from somewhere behind my head.

"You're an idiot," I muttered at Caspian, genuinely annoyed.

"Just doing my job as a local relations officer," he replied in a playful, entirely unapologetic tone.

"Shhh, silence you two," Lieutenant Bulgers cut in, raising a single index finger. "Someone's coming."

The moment we heard that, every one of us slipped back into silence. The sound of footsteps outside grew steadily closer. It was difficult enough to tell friend from enemy just by the difference in boot sounds alone. Pat and Raylan might have had that ability, but the problem was they were not here.

The lantern that had been lit was quickly snuffed out by Ashton. For what felt like the hundredth time, we were all swallowed by the narrow dark once more. I was crouching near the chair with Nira beside me now, which was at least different from before when I had been curled up beneath the table.

As the sound of those boots drew closer and became the single loudest thing in the tense silence, every armed member of the unit raised their rifles toward the door and brought their fingers close to the trigger.

"Dust," but fortunately what emerged from behind it was one of our own, no, two of our own. "Lieutenant, you still here?"

"Same as before, Horgan."

Even in the dark it was enough to make things clear. The one approaching was Horgan, and from the build of the figure behind him, it looked like Scarface. The two of them stepped into the dining area and crouched down near Lieutenant Bulgers.

"For what's up in the sky--"

"Yeah, I already guessed it, those are the gliders," Lieutenant Bulgers cut Horgan off, checking the watch on his wrist. "Right on schedule. But thank you for bringing the Staff Sergeant here, Horgan."

"Yes, sir. Not much problem," Horgan answered before stepping away from the officers.

With the room now feeling considerably more cramped and closed in, I could even make out the discussion taking place between the two officers.

"Where are the others, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Bulgers whispered to Scarface, who had moved slightly forward. "

"Not far from here, Lieutenant,"

"Any info why did the enemy column go after the locals?"

"....About that," Scarface’s raspy voice came low and rough, like gravel scraping against bone. "Enemy pointmen found the three bodies we left in the wheat. After that, they’re tearing the village apart… house by house. We heard the screams. Gunshots inside the homes. They’re punishing everyone just to find who pulled the trigger."

Scarface’s words landed like a dull blade dragged across my chest

"I'm sorry, skipper..." Scarface muttered, his voice heavy with regret. "I should have known better. I should’ve ordered those three bodies hidden right away. This should’ve been my responsibility."

The regret confession Scarface laid bare cut through the conscience of everyone in that room. I could feel guilt seeping out from every corner. Caspian's fingers frozen around his cigarette, Ashton's breathing gone too shallow, Scarface grinding the back of his neck with his hand, even Lieutenant Bulgers' jaw had gone rigid.

"…Shit,” Ashton breathed, barely audible.

“Whole village…” Caspian whispered in disgrace.

From the corner, Pisger muttered under his breath, “So, we killed them…?”

All of us sharing the same silent shame, because the very people we had come to liberate were now suffering on account of our own carelessness. No matter how rigorous our training in boot camp, this is our first operation and our first combat encounter. Ultimately, there's still much to learn from the field itself, but should it come at the cost of innocent lives?

Nira beside me was sensitive enough to pick up on the heavy atmosphere, though she herself did not seem to understand what had caused it. But what would happen if the language barrier were not there? Would she not be showing her anger right now, knowing that her neighbors had been hurt because of us?

"...Raylan seemed to be the one most affected by the terrible sight. Although I was able to calm him down somewhat," added from Scarface with an increasingly deeper voice. "Again, this should be my responsibility, sir..."

"Alright, that's enough, Sergeant."

"If only I-"

"Like I said, STOP IT!" Lieutenant Bulgers said in a low, urgent voice, taking hold of both his shoulders.

It seems like he is the one who feels the most guilty because he feels he is senior among the other members and should also know more things, as if he had just betrayed his own expectations. This was the first time I had seen how powerless is he.

"....The milk is already spilled," I quoted, trying to ease the weight sitting over all of us.

"....bunch of people got murdered, and you're talkin' bout milk, kid?" Scarface shot back, turning toward me with a look that made it very clear he had no idea what I was getting at.

"No! It's an idiom about, uh--- Argh, forget it!" I could not even finish explaining it, this war was genuinely making me lose my mind!

"I think what she's trying to say is she wants a refill on her milk, Sergeant," Caspian cut into the conversation as he always did, the bastard. "Hey Ginger, if you want more I'll let Nira know."

"'Mama, can I have some milk?' just say that, haha," even Ashton was piling on now.

"Fuck you, idiots."

"That's a badmouth, five kellers fine," Caspian kept going without missing a beat.

"Since when was that ever a rule?"

It was true that the atmosphere had thawed out dramatically, but why did it always have to be me getting used as everyone's punching bag for a good laugh. Sure, it was different from how things had started, but I supposed this was better, even Lieutenant Bulgers was stifling a chuckle. But seriously, why me!?

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Lieutenant Bulgers brought the laughter to a stop. "Let's hold onto that guilt as a bitter reminder to never be this careless again, and to never forget the innocent souls out there. Once we reach HQ, we will pray together for them."

"Yes, sir...." we answered in unison.

With no reason left to linger in this house any longer, we began gathering ourselves to move out. With Ashton's help I started hauling my military bag up onto my back.

In the middle of all that, my eyes drifted without meaning to toward the mug sitting on the table, still half full of milk. My gaze fixed on the still white surface and could not pull away from it. The milk had a reflection... a terrible one.

There, I saw the civilians lined up, then cut down one by one by enemy rifles. Their bodies went limp and folded into the ground, as though the surface of the milk were a mass grave freshly dug. Then everything turned red, all of it red, I tried to rub my eyes but the image would not leave and only grew worse. I could see the bodies, their eyes full of rage, and everything kept getting redder and redder, th-th-they were angry at me-

"Hey," a hand landed on my shoulder and pulled me back, it was Ashton. "Don't let it get to you. Not yet. Not ever...."

I did not say a single word and only gave a small nod. Trying to pull my attention somewhere else, I made sure not to leave without saying goodbye to Nira first. I hoped we would meet again someday, but war had always had a way of crushing so many of humanity's hopes.

"You Harkeys just going to leave like that?" The voice stopped us without warning, and what was surprising was that it came from the man who had been lying unconscious on the table just moments ago.

Not only was he now awake and smiling, but he was speaking Thelish with reasonable fluency, a accent still present but clear enough, and that caught all of us completely off guard. We simply stood there in silence, staring at the figure who had seemingly risen from the dead.