ANTIDYSTOPIA by Skittlez & Arabesque--Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

Ira

“Ira! Come down here!” Viann shouts. I sigh. I was reading a book about the history of knives. I mark the page and set it down. I walk down the stairs to see Viann at the door talking to some official-looking lady.
“Hello, you must be Ira,” the lady says. She extends her hand but I ignore it.
“Hi, what do you want?” I ask. Viann elbows me but says nothing. She’s been nagging me about my social skills. I’ve been telling her that I’m ten years rusty.
The lady looks me in the eye and says, “I am Eralia Rendri-Ottridge. I’m here on behalf of Queen Heruna, she has selected both of you to be heads of a project.”
Viann lights up and excitedly inquires on what the project is. Eralia is clearly happy to see that at least one of us is enthusiastic.
“Well, the project is building a memorial dedicated to loved ones lost in the ten years of violence Surubi just emerged from. It will be placed in the center of town. You have six months. The budget is $1 million. You have Surubi’s finest at your disposal. Any questions?”
“No! It sounds fun!” Viann exclaims.
“Very well then,” Eralia answers courteously, “Good luck to you both. Now may I ask you to look over there?”
Naively, Viann turns. I continue to watch her. Eralia winks at me and turns my head. I turn back, and she’s gone. Hmm… Eralia Rendri-Ottridge. Ottridge? Where have I heard that before? Oh my gosh, Eralia is Kolan’s wife. Which would mean that she’s an Elite as well… but why would she be helping Heruna then?

***

I’m mulling over why it is Eralia would be Kolan’s wife but play for the opposing side... unless there was no opposing side. I did suspect Kolan had ulterior motives, but I didn’t have an idea. I decide the next time I run into him I will question him.
Meanwhile, Viann starts hounding me with ideas for the memorial, which I couldn’t be more uninterested in.
“I was thinking that we could make a stone fountain and maybe somehow get all the names of the people who died to engrave on it,” Viann proposes to me. “I think Mom would’ve liked that.”
“Don’t mention her...or Dad,” I say stiffly, trying to prevent my voice from cracking.
“You act like they never existed!” Viann shouts at me. I could see it in her eyes that she was hurt. “You act like you want to forget them,” she said more calmly, but with a tear sliding down her cheek.
“Well you try to act like nothing’s changed!” I snap. She keeps her eyes set on me, but doesn’t say anything. “Everything’s changed, why can’t you see that?” I add before running out the door and slamming it behind me.
I get a glimpse of dark clouds looming above me, I even hear thunder in the distance, but I keep going until I reach the forest. It starts to rain then. I sit down on a fallen tree trunk and let the raindrops splash on my face and soak my clothes. What does it matter anyway?

Looking around, I realize how alone I am. Since I usually have to watch my back to make sure no one’s about to attack me, I’ve never had the time to have felt lonely. I know Viann and I shouldn’t be arguing; the only family we have left is each other. But we hardly ever see eye to eye. She thinks that acting like Mom and Dad never existed is so wrong. Though, now more than ever I wish they were here.

I’m not the crying type of person, let alone when there are people around, but right then, I start to sob.

***

It was at least an hour before I trudged back to the house sopping wet. I see Viann at her desk, scribbling furiously. I choose to avoid her for now and walk upstairs silently.I I drift to sleep after a while.

***

I’m running through a forest. A big, black mass is tailing me, and I run for my life. Eventually, I tire out and take cover in the carved out trunk of a big tree. Ira, Ira honey. I hear a soothing voice call. I look up to see my mother and father standing in front of me.They’re smiling like nothing’s wrong and it frustrates me.

“Hello Ira, dear. You’ve grown so much,” my mother says with a smile, as though she just went away for a while and came back now.

“Wha...What’s going on?” I ask, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean Ira?” my dad asks me. “We’re your parents, where else would we be besides with you and your sister?”

“But...but...” I start, but I can’t find the right words to say or the right questions to ask.

“Shh... honey,” my mother says, “We need to talk to you.” I look around me and try to figure out what exactly is happening but I feel disoriented and my brain is muddled.

“You see Ira,” my dad starts to explain. “Your mother and I, we really aren’t dead.” My eyes widen and I stand there, frozen, gaping at him.

“What are you talking about?” I nearly shout at him.

“Just let your father finish,” my mother says calmly. I back off and continue to listen.

“Things were getting bad throughout the country, but it was by far the worst here. We were sent away with very short notice,” he continues.

“Where? Why? What about Viann and me?” I ask.

“A while ago, they were trying to move everyone to a place with a better government system, so we got sent to...” my mother starts, but stops short.

“Where, where?” I ask urgently. Instead of answering, my parents fade away right before my eyes.

“We love you,” my mother calls in a distant voice. Then, she nor my father are nowhere to be found.

***

My eyes pop open and I sit up on my bed. I was dearly hoping that that wasn’t just a dream; that there could be a chance that my parents really were still alive, and it was just a matter of miles before I could see them again. Though there was a part of me that couldn’t shake the possibility that it could be a hallucination.

I head downstairs to see Viann still sitting at her desk, but with her head in her hands.

“Hey,” I say, coming up behind her.

“Oh hi,” she responds, sitting up and rubbing her red eyes.

“I had a dream,” I begin. “And our parents...they weren’t dead. They were just--”

“Ira,” Viann cuts me off. “You have to move on. You refuse to talk about them and hate it when I even mention either of them, and now you think that they could still be alive based on a dream you had. They wouldn’t want us to keep grieving about them. You have to let go, Ira.” I hate it when she’s right. There wasn’t much else for me to say, so I just trudged back up to my room.

I knew it was a long shot, but I refused to give up on the chance that my parents really were still alive. That they were just out there somewhere waiting for us to find them. But then that would mean that for all this time, our parents left us alone to defend ourselves purely for their own safety.

The thought that they could still be alive is quickly numbed by my anger toward them.

Updates!!!

First of all, chapter 6 of Find Me will be out either tonight or tomorrow. I'm hoping to write chapters 7 and 8 over break too.

As for ANTIDYSTOPIA, we aren't totally decided on who's point of view chapter 6 will be in, and what will happen. Also, Arabesque is on vacation at the moment, and can't help write anything for about a week.

If you haven't heard, we've started a new story, The Ira Files. It's basically just a story about Ira and Viann and their lives from when they were younger told in documentary format. You can find the first two chapters on Arabesque's blog, randomthoughts328.blogspot.com.

As for my Hold On series or whatever you want to call it, I know it's kinda early to be mentioning this, but I've been considering writing a third story, but there are pros and cons of writing a third story, and not. For one thing, I have most of what's going to happen in Find Me planned out in my head, and I don't think that I can wrap up the story in 10 chapters without it being too fast paced. Also, I think you guys would enjoy another story...at least I hope you would. On the other hand, I'm not sure how a third story would play out in the end, though I could probably figure it out. The thing is, as time goes on, I'll have even less time to write. As of now, there's basically one chapter a month, and it could be even more spaced out.

Just something to chew on.

Anyway, Arabesque and I want to wish all of you a...


♥Skittlez

ANTIDYSTOPIA by Skittlez & Arabesque - Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Warryn Dywynyx

                “Sire, Lady Zephyr has returned,” my loyal servant, Tervaquen announces.

                Zephyr, my niece, walks into the room with her usual grace. She is wearing a plain white dress and her hair is twisted back simply, tied with an ivory ribbon. Her beauty and elegance is always astonishing; she is a spitting image of my sister, Criseliania or Crissy as we call her.

                “Hello uncle, I’m back from my stay in Surubi, and I’ll go back in a week,” she tells me.

                I smile, decide to cut to the chase and outright say, “What information have you collected, what has happened?”

                She explains that she is currently working as a maid to the new self-proclaimed queen, a girl named Heruna. Heruna is apparently advised by Eralia. At the sound of her name I scowl; that dastardly woman. Constantly manipulating things, trying to adjust the future for the so-called benefit of “the people” when it’s really just for the Elites. Her husband Kolan as well, the irritating person he is. However, surprisingly Zephyr seems unaware of Kolan and continues on about how Heruna has improved Surubi already. Amazingly, she’s begun restoration quite efficiently. Implementing rules, organizing resources and the people seem accepting of this. I doubt a sixteen-year-old girl could come up with this and execute it so smoothly. I’m contemplating how it is that Eralia and Kolan are pulling the strings on this when Zephyr interrupts my thoughts.

                “The only speed bump they’ve hit so far is a small rebellion a few days ago,” Zephyr explains, “some angry people tried to burn down the government building, but the Elites stopped them.”

                A rebellion, just the sparks I need to ignite a fire that will burn down Surubi so I can conquer the ashes. I decide that whoever arranged this on such short notice should be invited into my plot.

                “Get me in contact with whomever it is that was in charge of this little rebellion.”

                Zephyr nods and walks away. I take my phone off the table and dial the Elites’ phone number.

                “Hello?” a man’s voice answers.

                “Ahem, I would like to speak to Eralia. Who is this?” I say, hoping whoever is on the other line won’t recognize me.

                “This is Prescott. Dywynyx? Is that you? Oh, I think it is. Bye!” and he hangs up. I sigh.

               

***

                Later, I am doing my duty as leader of Toire, dealing with the common people. Sisters come in, squabbling about who owns the plot of land their father left to them since he did not specify which of them. An orphan comes and asks for some food and a job as a servant. A prisoner begs for pardon. A man is put on trial for killing his wife, and he is convicted and sentenced to life in prison.

                At council, we hold a meeting to discuss what to do about this Heruna girl, but nothing happens of importance and I leave feeling dissatisfied. I decide that whoever started that little rebellion should be encouraged to defeat Heruna and the Elites. The orphan boy, Anthony, is standing outside the door of our conference room, and as I leave, he stops me.

                “Sire, perhaps you could send someone to approach whoever it is in Surubi. To befriend this person, and to encourage them and plant ideas in their mind,” Anthony suggests. He is a little younger than Landyn, my son, a boy of seventeen; tall, with daring blue eyes and somewhat curly blonde hair.

                I think for a moment and then respond, “Yes, indeed that would be a good idea. When we find out the age of this person, I’ll send someone out. If it’s someone your age, you can go.” I’m positive it won’t be, but if it is I will send him, so technically it’s not lying. He nods, and walks away.

***

                We go through much work to find out who started the rebellion. I have Zephyr listen in on conversations, ask around and see who was suspected. In the end, we find our boy, a dashing young man named Zakyas Rymaire. Surprisingly, I end up sending Anthony to go accompany Zakyas and try to encourage thoughts of the demise of Heruna and the Elites. We dress him in Surubi attire, give him a list of priorities, and send him off with nothing but a backpack and hope.

                The plan is for him to travel with Zephyr, but then part ways and have him wander and “happen to” meet Zakyas. Zephyr informs me that Zakyas has interacted with Heruna closely, and we hope that he is more conniving than we expected.

                We wait for several weeks before receiving news in the form of a phone call. Anthony has been staying at the Rymaire household, and was easily welcomed.

                “He has an older sister named Tarynn,” Anthony blabbers. I’m not really listening, so I interrupt his speech on the food and say,

                “Cut to the chase. What about Heruna?”

                “Well, he’s talked about her. The thing is, it seems more like he loves her than he hates her.”

                “Impossible. Why would he set off a rebellion against her if he loved her?”

                “I don’t think he did, sir, because he’s not very violent and at mention of the uprising he seems pained… Not to question anybody, but is it possible you got this wrong? I doubt it’s Zakyas. I can make a clean escape; say that you’re my uncle and I’m going to live with you… Sir?”

                I pause before saying anything. If it’s not this Zakyas fellow, who could it be? Who could assemble thousands of angry people and set fire to a building within a day?

                “Very well, you may leave. I’ll send you out for something else later though. Don’t think you’ve won quite yet,” I say, the last sentence partly directed towards the Elites. I hang up and continue pondering. Don’t think you’ve won quite yet.

Just so you know, tentative sched (yes, sched) for ANTIDYSTOPIA is up on my blog, Random Thoughts. Check it out to see when the next awesome chapter is comin' out.

Hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Mucho Gracias,

Arabesque

ANTIDYSTOPIA by Skittlez & Arabesque--Chapter Four

Chapter 4

Zakyas

I can’t stop thinking of her. Her dark brown hair with the streaks of natural blonde, those bright hazel eyes, so kind and beautiful. I can’t think of anything else. I think about her soft pink lips, parted slightly, taunting me because I cannot kiss them. Heruna. She is the definition of natural beauty. Ever since we saw each other when she was rationing food, I haven’t had a thought without her face appearing in my mind.

I’m lying in my bed, thinking of what I can do to stop this heartache, this longing for her. Suddenly, I hear shouting and the firing of guns. Fire illuminates the night sky. I jump out of bed and get my family. Tarynn, mom, dad, we’re all fine. We agree that it’s safer in the confines of our house rather to go outside and be stormed by the angry mob. Tarynn peeks through the curtains; when she turns back around her face is stricken.

“I—I think there are people rebelling against Heruna,” she gasps. I freeze. Heruna? In danger? Suddenly, I feel the need to rush out and get Heruna out. When there’s fire in Surubi, it tends to end in death. I grab my jacket and am about to head out the door when my father puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Zakyas Rymaire, what do you think you’re doing? It’s a full-fledged uprising out there with fire and crazy people and you’re about to go out there? Son, I can’t let you; it’s too dangerous,” he tells me.

I don’t absorb half of what he says after this, because I’m scheming on how to sneak out and see if Heruna is okay. I nod as though I understand, and after he returns to the kitchen, I quietly head out the door. I sprint towards the building, darting and dodging through the crowd. Luckily, people are too angry and focused upon the big government building to pay any attention to me. I stop and catch my breath when I reach the back of the building; the side where no one will see me. I noted as I was running that the bottom of the building was aflame, but the back wasn’t. I knew it was impossible to scale the building, but what else could I do?

My thoughts are interrupted by someone tapping on my shoulder. I turn to see a young man standing before me.

“She likes you, you know,” he says as if the building wasn’t on fire in front of us. “You should go for it.” Here I am; with the girl I loved trapped in a burning building, and a guy I didn’t know telling me she likes me back.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“Prescott,” he answers

“What do you suggest to do about the government building?” I ask looking at the raging fire. I turn to face him again, only to find that he’s gone.

How can I get in there? How can I get Heruna out?

Suddenly, before my very eyes, Heruna comes sprinting out of the building. She runs into my arms and whimpers,

“Oh Zakyas, what’s going on here? Why did they set the building on fire?” I don’t answer. I stand there embracing her, stroking her hair, feeling relieved that she’s safe in my arms.

“Heruna,” someone calls. A young woman comes up behind her.

“Eralia, what’s going on here?” she asks, breaking away from me.

“They’re rebelling,” she says. “We have to stop them. C’mon, Heruna.”

“Who are you?” I ask.

“My name is Eralia,” she replies. “I am one of the Elites.” Before I can ask what the “Elites” are, Eralia pulls Heruna into the mass of people.

“People!” she shouts through a bull-horn another Elite handed to her. “Why are you doing this? Heruna has given you all food, stopped violence, and spared many lives. And what do you do? Attack her and set fire to her building?” Then, Eralia, Prescott, and some other young men and women I assume are also Elites disperse throughout the crowd of hectic people and point guns at them. I want to further question Prescott, but he seems pretty preoccupied.

I spot a familiar face in the crowd. I’m shocked to see that it was Ira. She had always seemed so innocent and kind; not the kind that would do this sort of thing. She catches my eye contact and holds my gaze. Her eyes enlarge in surprise, and then her face possesses a sad, almost guilty expression.

For the next hour or so, I stand out of harm’s way, and watch as the Elites incite the angry mob to flee from the scene. Four of the Elites douse the fire with a hose until the now charred building is no longer consumed by flame.

“You should get home,” Eralia says, coming up from behind me. Things had quieted down now and the only people around were Elites gathering stray arrows and other things that the gang had left behind.

“Okay, I will,” I respond sleepily. Before heading home, I walk over to Heruna, who is sitting on the road gazing at the burned building.

“Bye Zakyas,” she says, looking at me with a distressed expression in her eyes.

“Bye Heruna,” I reply. I crouch down next to her and stroke her hair. “See you tomorrow.”

When I slide open the door and tiptoe inside the house, Tarynn is sitting on the couch staring at the curtain covered window.

“Oh Zakyas,” she says, and breathes a sigh of relief, “I’m so glad you’re okay. What were you thinking? Running straight into a big fight like that?”

“Shh,” I hiss, “you’ll wake mom and dad.”

“But why’d you take that big of a risk; even after dad told you not to go?” she whispers. I sit next to her on the couch and say,

“I don’t know,” trying to be as convincing as possible.

“Just tell me,” she persists.

“The building was on fire and there were people with weapons. I needed to make sure Heru—I mean everyone was okay.” A sly smile grows on Tarynn’s previously panicked face.

“I understand now,” says with a faint laugh. “You like Heruna.”

“I do not,” I argue, face turning red. “And lower your voice,” I say louder than I intended.

“So you like Heruna,” she repeats, giggling.

“Well…well you probably like Myka or something,” I counter. Her smile fades and she falls silent. Her face reddens too.

“How did you know I liked him?” she asks, slightly irritated. Now I’m the one who’s laughing.

“I didn’t…until you told me two seconds ago,” I point out. She gives me a slap on my shoulder, and then starts laughing again.

“We better get to sleep,” she says. We walk down the hall to our rooms.

“Goodnight Tarynn,” I whisper.

“Goodnight,” she responds before closing her door.

Lying in bed later, trying to find sleep, I am soon disgusted at myself for laughing after experiencing the rebellion against Heruna. It was a big group that attacked her. They seemed capable of causing some serious destruction on Surubi.

What if they took over? What if Heruna got hurt?

ANTIDYSTOPIA by Skittlez & Arabesque--Chapter Three

Chapter 3

Ira

I’m sprinting back to my house with a sack filled with apples and two small loaves of bread in my hand. A man and woman caught me stealing from their store and are after me. I don’t know what the point is of having a store. Only a few people left in Surubi are civilized enough to go in and actually buy things. A mysterious-looking group of people catches my eye. I get distracted and then find the man’s hand locked around one of my wrists.

“Hand it over,” the woman growls. She snatches for the sack. I jerk away, but the man still holds his grip. I tuck the sack awkwardly under my arm, whip my knife out from my belt, and swipe it in the man’s direction. He lurches back, but not before I cut him in the shoulder. This infuriates him and he lunges toward me. I slash my knife at his chest. He collapses down on his back with his bloody chest heaving up and down and the woman at his side. I look back just in time to see his eyes close and his body go still. I bolt home.

“Did you find food?” my twin sister, Viann, asks me when I walk in our house and slam the door. I dump the sack of apples and bread on the table. We’ve managed to survive on our own for the past eight years.

Our parents died about two years after the rebellion when they were out hunting. That’s all we know. No one came to give us the details. One of our neighbors who had witnessed it came to tell us that they died, but nothing else. We were ten at the time, but since there are no people with authority, no one hauled us away to an orphanage. The first few weeks of providing for ourselves weren’t too difficult. The nicer people pitied the “ten year old twin orphans” and gave us any food they could spare, but that wore off eventually. We were piqued with anger that someone took our parents’ lives. That the chaotic society let that happen. Then we resorted to stealing food. The only people I need to worry about are Viann and me and it’s not like anyone stops us anyway.

It’s early evening, so we each have half of a loaf with some leftover cheese and some apple slices. Then, as we do weekly, we sharpen our knives. Our parents gave both of us three shiny knives; two stainless steel and one titanium, with nine inch blades. In the oak handle, our family last name, Beitles, is carved. When we were eight, just after the Revolution, our parents told us that we’d need some way to defend ourselves when we left the house.

“I wonder what would’ve happened if Mother and Father hadn’t died,” Viann sighs.

“Well they did and we can’t change it now,” I grumble. For a few moments, we sit in silence, with only the sounds of our knives grinding on stone and gunshots in the distance.

“When do you think society will ever get back to normal?” At this point in time, our hectic society is what I consider normal.

“I can’t say for sure that it will.”

***

I walk into the kitchen the next morning just before dawn to get a slice of bread to nibble on for breakfast. The T.V clicks on and comes to life and the seal of Surubi flashes on the screen. This scrawny familiar-looking girl about my age wearing a fancy green dress appears. She starts blabbering about how she’s the queen or something like that. I think it’s all a charade and ignore her, but she says something about no thievery that catches my attention. When I turn around, I find a group of unknown people standing by the table.

“Good morning, Miss Ira Beitles,” a young man hails me.

“Who are you guys?” I demand. “And how the hell do you know my name?” I snatch a knife and hold it out in front of me in case I need a weapon. They all laugh, which sends a scowl across my face. I swing my knife at the man, but he swiftly dodges my attempt at attacking him, intimidating me slightly.

“My name is Kolan Ottridge and we are The Elites.”

“That really clears things up,” I say sarcastically.

“We have been observing you closely for a while,” Kolan explains, “and have discovered that you are skilled with knives and are cunning and devious. We think that you’d be perfect for this challenge of ours.”

“Challenge? What challenge?”

“I don’t know if you know her, but we’ve assigned this girl, Heruna Querba, the task of bringing order to our country of Surubi and its citizens. To make rules and regulations to make things run more smoothly around here.”

“Is this what that government announcement was about?”

“Yes. She’s giving her speech on the balcony of the government building currently, as you can see,” Kolan explains further, motioning to the screen. There’s more yammer about new laws, like no violence and thievery is to be abolished.

“Food will be rationed to everyone that needs it,” Heruna states. I wonder how in the world they’ll make that work out.

“So what’s the challenge exactly?” I ask them.

“Well, we want you to make sure Heruna fails,” Kolan says. “If you succeed at making her fail, you can be queen in her place.” The offer puts me in such a daze that they leave before I can ask why they want her to fail if they gave her the chance in the first place, nor how I’m supposed to do this.

***

That afternoon, I consider telling Viann about the challenge the Elites gave me. Though after thinking about it, I’m not quite sure she’ll understand. I’m afraid she might see it as me trying to overthrow Heruna. Even though I do dislike her, I’m doing this to hopefully improve our lives.

Now that we supposedly don’t have to forage for our own food, Viann and I have a lot more time on our hands. I sit on the couch while Viann stands in front of a small easel swiping her paint-slicked brush across it.

“What are you painting?” I ask her.

“Oh an apple with a knife in it,” she replies. Apple? Knife? All I saw was a red blob with some lopsided silver and black rectangles.

“Well I’m gonna go take a walk. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Okay. See you later.” Before heading out the door, I grab a knife and secure it under my belt; just in case.

When I step out of the house I have a sense of insecurity that is all too familiar. I look around me, needing to reassure myself that there was no one who was going to come out of nowhere attacking me; that Heruna’s new laws would prevent that. Still uneasy, I walk off toward the center of town.

Shops are open with customers inside making purchases. People are having conversations and walking beside people other than their families. There aren’t the usual sounds of gunshots and screaming, but instead children running around and playing with one another and friendly conversations between adults. No one is stealing or harming anyone else. Surubi seems so different in such little time.

I change my course and wander off to the forest. There used to be a bunch of people here all the time hunting for game or picking berries. From what I can tell I’m alone. My unease dissipates and I allow myself to relax. I lean back on fallen tree trunk and let the sun warm my face. Then I do something that I would’ve thought unimaginable just yesterday. I close my eyes. The rustle of the leaves being blown by a gentle breeze. The bird calls that intertwine creating a symphony that sounds so muddled, yet so melodic. The fact that yesterday, I would’ve been dead by now, but today, I’m still alive, taking in how peaceful it is now. I open my eyes, and find myself smiling. I’d always been too busy running for my life to realize how beautiful nature is.

After making a promise to myself that I’d come back here every chance I get, I make my way back home. I’m still not used to it being this diplomatic around here, but I can’t say I don’t like it. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a man jumps on me and pins me to the ground. I struggle to break his hold on me and reach my knife, but he locks my arms at my sides. Just as I open my mouth to scream, the man’s body weight is lifted from me. When I stand up, I see a guard with handcuffs around the man who now wore a sour look on his face.

“Thank you,” I manage to get out. He nods at me before whisking the man away.

The man’s attack makes me realize something. My challenge. I’m supposed to be trying to make the queen be unsuccessful at leading the restoration project. There are still people left in Surubi who are rebelling. A rebellion might be just the thing I need to do for my challenge. The sooner the better.

***

I run off for town, by the police department near the government building in hopes to find the man. Sure enough, as soon as I get there, I see the man walk out of the building holding a small slip of paper I assume is a fine.

“Hey!” I shout to him. He turns toward me, scowl wiped across his face. He looks suspicious as I approach him.

“What do you want?” he grumbles.

“I want a rebellion,” I say simply. He raises his eyebrows.

“A rebellion?” he asks. “Why? And why me?”

“Well,” I start. I figure I probably shouldn’t tell him about The Elites and my challenge. “I’m not such a big fan of the new laws. It contradicts with the lifestyle I was used to. And you, I can tell, are still a rebel.” He shrugs.

“Fair enough. What’s your name?”

“Ira Beitles. And you?”

“Rosplin Mergar. When are you planning this rebellion of yours?”

“How about tonight at eleven sharp in front of the government building? Do you know any other rebels?”

“Sounds good. Most of the people in the area of Surubi I live in are still rebels, so expect maybe…one hundred? Maybe 150?”

“Perfect. Make sure to bring guns, torches, bows and arrows, any type of weapon.” He nods, and walks off.

***

When I get home, minutes after I shut the door and check out Viann’s finished painting, there’s a knock. I open the door and see that it’s Heruna.

“What do you want,” I gripe.

“Well, we’re handing food out to everyone,” she says, “and so I’m here to give your house your month’s food supply.”

“Ira! Who’s there?” Viann shouts from our room. She comes up from behind me.

“No one we need to care about Viann,” I mumble, not concerned that Heruna can hear every word I say.

“Look,” Heruna sighs, “here’s your food. I hope it helps.” Viann takes the sack from her, smiling.

“Thanks you, miss. We really appreciate some order around here,” Viann says. Her gratitude sickens me. I slam the door shut.

“Why were you so rude, Ira?” Viann asks, frowning at me. “She was being nice. She gave us food.” I remember that she wasn’t awake during the government announcement. When The Elites told me I had to strive to take her down. My face softens slightly, then I saunter off to our room without another word.

***

That night, at 10:50, I quietly get out of bed and sneak out of the house. I’m hoping Viann won’t wake up and wonder where I am. I sprint down to the center of town in front of the government building where I find Rosplin and a big group of people armed with guns and bows and arrows. Torches brighten up the night sky.

After a few minutes, everyone grows silent. Rosplin gives me a nod, then aims his gun towards the sky and pulls the trigger with a loud bang. Then everyone starts to shoot at the government building. The night air is filled with bangs and shouts and cries of innocent civilians. A fire is started at the bottom of the building.

In the midst of the chaos, Rosplin asks me,

“Wanna send a message to the queen?” with a smirk. I grab the pen and slip of paper from his hand and hastily scribble, “BE GONE” on it. Rosplin sticks the note through the point of an arrow, aims, then shoots the arrow perfectly below Heruna’s window.

I turn around to see none other than Kolan, nodding in approval.