Epilogue

Aftermath

“The Pacific Kingdom is victorious! The War is over! The total casualty county was 19 brave and able Soldiers. The States are once again at Peace! Celebrate and Rejoice! Long live the Committee and love live the States!”

 

Steef wondered what that last Soldier’s final thoughts had been as he had knelt down on the forest floor. It must have felt so futile, so pointless. Even as he and his red-headed prize made their way toward the exit, even as he presented her with the necklace he had been saving up months for, he still couldn’t help imagining what it must have been like. A man in a foreign land trying to win using someone else’s rules and, in the end, after outlasting so many, finding yourself helpless on your knees. With a troubled start, he realized he may not have to imagine so hard after all.

 

 

Jaym felt a smoldering rage inside of him that had been building for the past few hours. Despite the Pacific Kingdom’s victory, the War hadn’t turned out at all how it was supposed to. Three Soldiers? Of eleven? It was incomprehensible that the best-trained and best-funded fighters the Hendecagon had ever seen could have been whittled down so far. It was a disaster. It was the loss of vital points. It was the loss of cohesion. Duke Gregree would pay for this. That obtuse tyrant had had a hand in this, he was sure of it. Another of the Committee Members? Perhaps. But which? They were all against him. Nobody wanted him to become a full member. Jaym finished his highball glass with relish and slammed it down by the others, causing it to shatter and fill his palm with shards and blood. Enemies, enemies, everywhere.

  

Gregree opened his eyes as much as he could manage from his drunken stupor. The screen was shut off, so either the War had ended or one of his loyal subjects would be executed tomorrow for incompetence. The hall was largely empty, for some reason. A servant girl hurriedly tried to clean around him as he sat slumped on his throne. He reached out and grabbed her arm, startling her and bringing a laugh to his lips. “Did we win?” The girl’s eyes darted away for a moment, but then returned. “Yes, m’lord. It’s done.” She hurried away with her arms full of empty goblets. Gregree smiled to himself, satisfied. He looked forward to speaking with Junior Committee Member Marshle tomorrow. As he turned over to fall back asleep, he reminded himself out of habit, “No Junior”. Displeasing a man like the Committee Member would be unwise.

 

Adamm felt both full and empty at the same time. He had eaten in a frenzy over the last few hours, trying to stuff his anxiety with pastries and rare fruits, but he had just witnessed the last of his military pupils being mercilessly executed with his own knife. Was there no relief? Was all of this really so absolutely needed? Had it really turned an uncivilized nation into one of restraint and peace? Adamm vomited over the side of the hover pod as the crowd’s bloodthirsty cheers continued to bombard him. They were the cries and applause of a beast well-fed. Adamm wiped his mouth with his linen napkin, let loose a sob and reached for another morsel.

 

Ebima hushed her children as she herded them back toward their single-room cabin. They were distraught, though not really. They only understood that their side had lost. The death itself had stopped bothering them many hours before. There might be nightmares, but in a few days’ time, life would return to normal for them. She, however, knew better. The spoils of War were immediate and she and her family had just become subjects of the Pacific Kingdom. It meant great change in the coming months with no way to know how it would affect them. As she lay down in bed at the end of the night, she hoped desperately that their future would, at the very least, be more stable. If the Kingdom brought that at the expense of some freedoms, perhaps it was not too high a cost. The thought troubled her even into her dreams of shapes and numbers, colors and sounds, blood and violence.

 

Alic’s body lay where it had fallen earlier. The foreign dirt stained his clothes and skin. His heart had stopped long before and the blood had dried, but the young man’s eyes still stared across the forest ground. The Hendecagon stadium lights shut off, bank by bank, until the battleground had become a quiet graveyard. Unbeknownst to the general public, the cleaning crews and technicians wouldn’t come by until the next day. They would be out celebrating another victorious War with the rest of the population.

 

Until then, the elven-sided arena stood silent as a memorial. Not to the sacrifice of any man, but to the end of war as we once knew it.