Skirmishes

As his foot touched the surface of the marble floor, he felt the cold seep into his body. The inescapable heat of minutes ago now felt like a decade-old dream. Once inside the passageway, he heard a muffled voice. An authoritative feminine speaker was making an announcement.

More news about Avalon? He mused. His eyes gazed at the end of the corridor, where doors to the two bedrooms remained open. He shook his head, not wanting to overthink. Averting his gaze to his immediate right, he was met with the elegantly organised study. I

Once inside the passageway, he could hear a muffled feminine voice, talking in an authoritative tone that seemed like a newscaster, coming from the room at the end of the corridor right next to Sidharth and Aisha's bedroom. On his immediate right was another room, considerably smaller than the two bedrooms at the end, which acted as the study for his mother.

From the doorway, Sidharth could see the wooden shelves lining the far wall, occupying most of the room's space. The shelf had seven racks, each neatly stacked with books arranged meticulously. On the top rack sat a collection of old, bound volumes—rare and expensive. Their spines were worn, some barely legible, but Sidharth could still make out the titles: Macbeth, King Richard III, Merchant of Venice, Hamlet, Tempest, Romeo & Juliet, King Lear, Julius Caesar, Othello, Twelfth Night, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Henry VI, The Comedy Of Errors.

The second rack to the fifth was filled with paperbacks. Most of them were academic Journals and books showcasing research on the writers and poets of the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras. In between, there were also original source materials for the said research.

The last two racks held books written by Sidharth's mother and works by scholars she had met in person or held in high regard.

At the end of the sixth rack were three hardcovers, each distinct. The first bore a spine marked by a raven entwined with a lightning bolt, beneath which ran the vertical title: The Obsidian Thesis: Memory of a World Before Memory by Dr. Cronisto — Concordia Patheon Press. Next to it was an Arthurian legend titled Chanson de l'Oiseau Solitaire, and beside that, Sidharth's personal favourite: The Man Behind the Sonnets by Dr. Leela Zou.

This study alone was worth more than the rest of the house combined. In an age where physical books—paperbacks or hardcovers—had greatly been supplanted by digital alternatives, the printing press had reverted to its inception days: expensive, rare, and reserved for scholars or the wealthy. Most people now preferred reading on their datapads or linking directly to cyberspace through their neurochips to enjoy audiobooks or immersive visual editions.

Sidharth then moved down the corridor towards the master bedroom. As he reached the end, pausing behind the wooden doorframe, the muffled feminine voice he'd heard earlier sharpened into clarity.

"Tensions at the northern borders continue to escalate, with skirmishes increasing in both frequency and intensity. While officials maintain that these engagements remain within routine operational parameters, the Government has issued an advisory urging all citizens to stock up on essential supplies and rations. In related developments, Avalon has imposed a full trade blockade on Colonies 7, 10, 12, and 27. As a result, experts predict a sharp rise in commodity prices over the coming days. Citizens are encouraged to prepare accordingly as the situation continues to unfold."

Skirmishes at this time of the year? Sidharth wondered. His fingers played with the second button of his blue chequered shirt. Leaning in, he peeked. Aisha and his mother sat on the bed, with their eyes pasted on the holo-television. Their expression was that of slight worry, though, Leela; Sidharth's mother masked it well.

'Skirmish & Avalon'. These were two terms that every Indian citizen had grown familiar with, thanks to the Imperials. Despite the facade that the Empire of Avalon dubbed four decades of peace, they would still conduct covert operations across the northern front. On the heights of the Himalayas, where even the best machine faltered, they waged mechanised warfare, the likes of which only India could defend.

After the end of the long and brutal Asiatic war in 2010, the Empire decided to focus its resources on consolidation rather than expansion. Although they had termed this campaign successful, the economists had different opinions. With their drain of treasury along with the loss of machinery and resources through the dragged-out siege with China and the Middle East, as well as the battle over the Pacific with Japan, they had little to no choice but to stop.

For a decade, the Empire sang odes of peace, sent emissaries, signed treaties and traded with what was left of Asia. They staged a perfect con to reassure those who remained that they were safe and the Empire would never hurt them. However, as they say, even a rat would attack the cat if cornered. At the dawn of the 2015 Common Era, the leaders of the world's free nations came together and formed an alliance. Under the leadership of India's young and visionary leader, Hemant Agarwal, the countries of the Indian Subcontinent and those of South East Asia merged into one unit a year later called the 'South Asian Union.'

On paper, this union was an alliance amongst nations who, despite their differences, came under an umbrella to fight the terror of Avalon. Still, this was the formation of one mega nation, who vowed to work together to sustain themselves in the one-nation mega power era. Like any other alliance, even this one was riddled with treachery, betrayal and blood, but still, when it came to defending against the Imperials, everyone showed up.

For over a decade, they worked as one unit until 2025, when India's neighbours decided to fall under the trickery of the enemy. This was the turning point and the beginning of the 'Skirmishes'.

Every winter following that year, Avalon, in an alliance with the neighbours, would strike and raze any settlement nestled in the Nothern front. This would be strategically carried under the guise of night. When the sun rose, they performed a tactical retreat and continued their con show by signing peace treaties, trader partnerships, and diplomatic relations. However, these 'Skirmishes' for the past two decades have still been limited to 'Burn and plunder at night, and retreat when dawn arrives.'

The citizens had become habitual to these, so much so that they would continue their daily lives like nothing was happening. Or as the News outlets like to put it: 'It is the Emperor's way of saying, I am right here watching your every move. One wrong turn and your destruction will be my pleasure.'

"In other news," the anchor continued as the visuals behind her shifted from footage of border skirmishes to the solemn portrait of a man in his late forties. He wore black-rimmed glasses, a well-groomed moustache, and a perfectly tailored black suit, his gaze piercing through the screen.

"Neha Agarwal has officially been named the successor to Odysseus Corporation, following the tragic loss of its founder, Hemant Agarwal, and his wife, Hema Agarwal. The couple perished in a mysterious plane crash over the English Channel six months ago while returning from the inauguration of the new Odysseus facility in Colony 1."

The anchor paused briefly as a quiet swell of orchestral music underlined the weight of her words.

"The nation continues to mourn the loss of a visionary—a man who redefined our understanding of neural synchronisation between humans, machines, and cyberspace. A pioneer, a patriot, and a symbol of our technological era. As Neha Agarwal steps into her father's role, all eyes now turn to Odysseus's future. One question echoes across both media and industry: Can she carry forward Hemant Agarwal's legacy?"

"Tch," Sidharth heard his sister click her tongue as she stood up. She then grabbed the remote from the table before ferociously pressing the red button, switching off the television.

Ehh? Did something that the newscaster said ticked her off or something? Either way, it's a great time for my grand entrance.

"Aisha!" Sidharth's mother scolded her. "Why did you switch it off? I was still watching."

"It was annoying, Ma!" Aisha grumbled, "And boring, if I must add. Plus, they are full of nonsensical information anyway."

"So you closed it off?"

"Yep," She nodded proudly, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Do you have some screw loose?"

"Definitely," Sidharth smirked at his sister as he walked in. "And not just one, Ma, multiple."-He stuck out his tongue at her with a mischievous grin-"Also, I am back!"

"Hey," Aisha grumbled, her obsidian-magenta eyes narrowing at Sidharth. "Who do you think you are talking to? I am the greatest Cybernetic Res—"

"—Researcher to ever live," Sidharth cut in with a smirk. "Who also happens to have a few screws loose and a legendary temper? Yep, that's my dearest sister, Aisha Zou."

"Tch, cheeky brat."

"Lazy Sister"

"Little Devil"

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sidharth said, grinning.

"You two," Leela stood exasperated as she walked towards Sidharth, glaring at him, her curly black hair neatly trimmed into a bun. "Will you stop it with the insults! Especially you, Aisha, who fights with their brother, who is fifteen years younger than her."

Sidharth chuckled as he winked at Aisha: I win.

To which Aisha silently replied: You are so dead today.

"And you too, Sid," Leela said, ruffling his hair. "You need to stop with your insults."

Sidharth widened his eyes, wearing the most innocent look as he said, "But I was only trying to cheer Aisha Di; she seemed so agitated by the news."

"What news?" Aisha asked.

"The one-" Sidharth was cut off; he felt his feet levitate from the cool tiled floor as a pair of arms snaked from behind, gripping his armpits tightly before pushing him upward.

Everyone around him suddenly wasn't tall anymore. He could look at them eye to eye until he even surpassed their height before being placed on the throne, where he gazed downwards as a king looking at his subjects.

"Seems to me you were more interested in getting reactions out of her agitation," Malem chuckled, "But that can be talked about later. So, birthday boy, how was your day?"

"Papa!" Sidharth exclaimed, his face turning scarlet as he sat on his shoulders, trying too hard to hide the embarrassment. "How often do I have to tell you I am not five anymore?"

"Sure, kiddo," Aisha smirked as she mouthed teasingly serves you right.

"Shut up." Sidharth gave her a glare, only for her to chuckle ever more in amusement.

Sidharth sighed. He might show that he hated this, but from the inside, he loved it, and there was no denying it. This way, he could get a bird's eye view of the room, observing everything to its last detail. The room was spacious and painted royal blue, unlike the white you would find throughout the house; this colour was a personal favourite of his mother.

The bed was a mahogany carved, king's size, with a red bedsheet covering the mattress and three pillows placed elegantly atop it.

On either side of the bed were two digital nightstands, black-coloured and metallic, installed with an intelligent AI system. They ensured the house remained safe and secure while also indulging the two siblings' childish whims—playing music, switching off lights, roasting Aisha—maybe not the last one. At the top of the stand on the right were tiny bottles and tubes filled with skincare and a lavender-coloured hair dryer. While on the left stand lay one old, gold-plated, metallic analogue watch and a telephone.

A metallic carving of a banyan tree hung on the wall behind the bed, tinged in gold with branches in silver as the roots glittered like diamonds hanging from them.

"How was your day?" Malem asked again, this time in a more authoritative tone that befitting of an army officer trying to get a report from his subordinate.

"Hehe," Sidharth laughed triumphantly, "Dearest father, your son right here-" his arms stretched outside as his thumbs pointed towards him, adding to the dramatic flair.

"Scored two goals against our rival school."

"Just two?"

Sidharth gazed downwards, confused, trying to check if he had heard him correctly, only to not clearly see his father's face as his position made it hard to see. He blurted out,

"What do you mean just two? Those were the only goals scored today and we won."

"Hm," Malem smirked, his chest puffed out, adding the same dramatic flair as his son.

"When I was your age, I would score six goals, a double hat trick just for fun against my rival school teams. So no son of mine gets to brag he scored just two goals."

Leela facepalmed as she made the gesture 'I am so done with this', "Yes, yes, he did score that much," She said, her voice even more dramatic than both father and son as she walked towards her husband smirking.

"Also, did you know what more he did?" She asked, her eyes dangerously cold as she grabbed hold of Sidharth and brought him down, who could only gulp in response.

Yeah, it's coming, the classic end remark. Brace yourself, papa.

"What?" Malem replied, visibly confused, still not reading the room, gaining an exasperated sigh from his son and daughter.

"Oh, you forgot, how forgetful of you? Can't you remember that one time you played in the-" emphasising more on her last word. "World Cup scoring hattricks."

"What World Cup?" asked Malem, surprised.

"Exactly," Sidharth's mom smiled.

The entire room erupted into laughter; Sidharth held his stomach as tears welled up from his eyes. Aisha was the same. The only person visibly embarrassed and wanted to hide was Malem, now at the mercy of his loving wife.

"Yeah, whatever, don't trust me," Malem grumbled.

"I trust you, but not at the moment," Leela replied, "Now stop indulging them in your stories and come help me set up lunch." She turned around, fingers pointing towards the brother and sister. "And you two, no fighting; Sid, I want you on the dining table changed and washed up in twenty minutes."

Sidharth nodded.

"Good," She replied, dragging Malem towards the kitchen.

"Two goals, huh?" Aisha smiled, squeezing his shoulder as she gave him a reassuring gaze. She was proud of him.

"Yep," Sidharth chirped, turning towards her and about to pull her into an embrace, only to stop at the last second. Her raven hair was messy, dishevelled and oozed with droplets of water. She had just taken a shower. On closer inspection, he saw that she still wore the same black shirt and shorts she had used for the past week.

Just how lazy can a person be?

"Di," He sighed. "I presume you are smart enough to know that the air-conditioned is blasting."

"Yes, I am aware; why?" Aisha asked, visibly confused.

Sidharth facepalmed before pointing his fingers towards her hair and then towards the tiny puddle of water on the floor. Which still took her a few seconds to process before her eyes widened as she mouthed, 'Oh.'

"Don't worry," She waved it away. "This is nothing," Her fingers pointed towards the window. "Thanks to the weather outside, they will dry on their own. Global warming for the win!"

Yeah, right, He thought, as he grabbed the lavender hair dryer from the digital stand, climbed up the bed while making sure his feet didn't touch the sheets and pointed his sister to sit below as he waved the hair dryer, switching it on and off indicating his offer to help dry her hair.

Aisha's rosy lips curved upwards into a bittersweet smile as she obliged. She sat on the floor with her back facing Sidharth.

"Welcome to Sidharth's bizarre salon," He said, switching on the dryer. As he began his services, his fingers held a strand of her hair dyed in white, signifying a loss. "If by the end of my services, you end up bald, then I am very sorry, as it will be mostly my intention."

"Waah," Aisha exclaimed, her hands wiping her fake tears. "I am so scared."

"Like you should be."

*****

A/N Another day, another chapter! Woohoo! I hope you all enjoy this new addition to the ongoing Avalon series. We finally get to meet the entirety of ZOU FAMILY!!! Can this be the Kaslana family moment :3 Haha! Stay with us to find out! Also, guys, who are your favourite character so far? Do comment on that!

Now for the writing. It may not be as interesting as my recent writing stint, and for that, I apologise; most of these chapters(ones pertaining to Avalon were written in 2023-2024); thus, my writing style is still amateurish compared to the present. But still, it was something. Anyway, that's it for today! Happy Reading, y'all!