The Enemies

Mixed Feelings

Oden

The room is brightly lit. The house poorly furnished. But everything is a blur.

'He was a distinguished warrior. No one had any doubt he will make it to the Council by the end of the war. To Heston.'

I nod, more in acknowledgment that I heard him rather than in agreement with what he said. I am hammered and have a very distinctive feeling I will end up in the puddle of my own vomit in the morning.

Ozias slams his knuckle into my shoulder. Soused too.

'We retaliated. His death is avenged.'

I nod again. Retaliated. Avenged.

'It will pass, Major.'

'It will. My brother died after capturing Rottbery.'

My eyes dart to Ozias. The name of the familiar city crushing my body with pain.

'Rottbery?'

'Yes, we stationed there. It was the same time when that bitch slaughtered an entire base full of Drellians. Don't you remember?'

I swallow and grab a full bottle, gulping the burning liquid. 'Yes.'

They both stare at me. Don smiles bitterly. Lazily he stretches his arms above his head. The gesture always reminded me of Karmians.

'Ironic, huh?'

'What is?'

'You could have killed her then.'

I nod. Killed her then. I could have. 'Yes.'

But then after a thought. 'I am sorry about your brother, Ozias.'

'We already drank to that.'

The table is wooden. I think. With carvings of something that I didn't give a second to examine.

'What the fuck is wrong with me?'

I ask out loud. Tom and Ozias eye me curiously.

'You are drunk. That's what's wrong. The rest will pass.'

I nod and try to get up. I almost manage, but then it turns out I can't walk. So I fall. Face first. Tom helps me to my feet.

'We'll show you to your room, body.'

Drellian forces retreat. We approach the Karmian border and wait for the rest of the remaining army to meet us. The war is lost, and there is nothing for the A9 to do. My days are filled with procrastinating and listening to the constant rumble of my team.

I end up in 'my room.' The place I did not know existed a week ago but now call it mine — some pathetic Karmian house in a filthy Karmian village. I chuckle.

'Pathetic Karmians!' I yell to the owner of the measly house.

I rub my eyes until I get white dots dancing in front of me.

She is fucking dead. Damn her. Damn PTSD. What was I thinking? Sleeping with her. Now that's what I get. I got too attached to the target. Too attached.

I breathe through my nose as another panic attack overwhelms me — one day at a time. I need time, that's all. I fall asleep somewhere between third or fourth episodes of breathing and swearing. I do not notice when the slumber comes. I rarely notice anything these days.

The goddamn sun is in my eyes, and the smell of alcohol and vomit assaults my senses when I wake up.

'Fuck.'

I greet the universe, gracefully rising from my cot. Another day. I just need to get back home.

She was an enemy. She killed my brother. No. She tried to kill me. Rejoice, Oden. Flint is dead.