Rising to Fall

Chapter 1-3

Andy walks through the back streets that night, in the poorer part of town, heading for the only bakery that sells bread cheap enough for him to buy and that stays open until late. He sees the bakery as he rounds the corner, the two candles lighting only a tiny part of the area around it. The baker, a big, strong man who can take on three thieves at once, recognises him and has his bread wrapped and ready when he reaches the counter. Andy pays him with one of his $50 notes. The baker hands him back the change and Andy takes the bread, heading home. Neither of them says a word. Late at night, like it is now, words can only attract attention that you don't want.

Andy begins the 10-minute walk home. It's cold now like it normally is at night. He notices a few guys standing suspiciously in the shadows of the street he normally walks down. Very conscious of the large amount of money he has in his pocket, Andy turns and walks down a different street, taking the longer but probably safer route home. He walks quickly, holding his bag of bread close to his chest so that it can't be stolen away.

He sees two figures huddling together in the shallow cover of a doorway. As he comes nearer, he sees that one is an older woman, perhaps around 50 or so years old. The other is a young girl of maybe 18, although her dirty and tangled blond hair makes her seem older. They were obviously homeless, members of the poor who can't do anything to help themselves.

Andy slows his steps, the bread suddenly warm in his arms. The two women are thin, thinner than what is healthy. They have a thin blanket wrapped around them that must do nothing to keep out the cold. He sighs. He can never leave people in such obvious need without doing something to help them. The two haven't spotted him yet. He unwraps part of his bread and breaks off a small part of it, barely a quarter, and holds it in his left hand.

He approaches the two women. The old woman looks up at him while the younger doesn't move. Andy can see that she is alive as her brown eyes flick to him. Without speaking, he holds out the bread, still wrapped in the bag. The old woman stares at it for a moment, and then slowly takes it in wonder. Andy doesn't say anything, he doesn't stick around. He simply turns and leaves them with their small dinner, but one that is significantly larger than what they would have eaten that night.

As he walks home, he eats the small part of the bread that he kept for himself. It was nowhere near enough. He finishes it well before he reached his house again. He might have something at home to eat, or he might be able to get something later. But no matter whether he went to bed hungry or not, he isn't going to regret giving that bread to the two women. They need it more than he did.

In a different part of the Capital, an hour or so later, another man is walking the streets. These aren't the streets of the super 9wealthy, but as they belong to the rather well-off, it is clean and smooth. General Mitchell is thinking as he walks past the houses. The late hours of the night are one of the only times when he can think in complete peace. And right now, he needs to think.

Back at base, he had been suspicious at first when they had started receiving peace treaties from this territory around 11 or so years ago. Mitchell had only seen the previous occupying army once or twice and while they hadn't been hostile towards the Benjas, they had certainly made it clear that they didn't want anything to do with them. And then the Squid army had come along, suddenly wanting peace. Without knowing why Mitchell just felt that something was off. Armies were being overthrown all the time in this land, and the territories of the smaller armies were constantly changing, but something had just felt wrong.

So he had come to the Capital under the pretence of discussing the treaty when in reality, he had wanted to talk with the residents and try to get to the bottom of what had really happened. The story of the Squid Army didn't sit right with General Mitchell, and his allies agreed with him. For the entire day, he had been interviewing random people from around the Capital, covertly asking them about the previous army. He remembered that they had been called the Sky Army, and it seemed that he had been correct in that name. But, frustratingly, he had come up with almost no information on them.

This is what General Mitchell thinks as he walks down the streets, not paying as much attention as he should to where he is going. Without realising it, he walks away from the well-off and into the poorer parts of the Capital. The streets are darker and dirtier here, but they are still deserted. Mitchell turns down a narrow street between two shops, still deep in thought. A soft scraping sound echoes slightly behind him and he stops, beginning to turn.

But it is too late. Three men jump him, one tying a blindfold around his eyes, one stuffing a gag in his mouth and the other forcing his hands behind his back. General Mitchell tries to kick at them, but the men are efficient. One of them hits him on the head just hard enough to daze him, but not hard enough to make him unable to walk. With his hands secured behind his back, the General is dragged backwards, pulling him off balance. The men drag him to what feels like stairs and he trips and grunts as they descend, landing awkwardly. He is shown no mercy as he is dragged underground, with no idea of where he is going or who is taking him, and with no one knowing where he is.

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