Open Society

The sun hung high above the western fields, doing little to soothe the cold winds. Enne glanced along the city’s western border; The small migrant camps had grown since she saw them, confirming Rita’s unwillingness to address the issue. Her silver hair blew gently against the autumn breeze, her hands clutched the stirrups of her pale horse. Kenneth watched on with her, feeling her anger.

“I would’ve never imagined she’d allow this,” she spoke, finding distress beneath his grizzled beard. “She really thinks she can hold the festival? We don’t have the manpower.”

“She was thinking about drafting those close-to-age,” he responded. “She wants to pair them with more seasoned guards.”

“But, we don’t have that many do we, let alone weapons.”

“Less than a six hundred, I give or take?”

The mayor doubled down at an uncertain time, but the city seemed complacent with her actions. Very few challenged her decisions, especially with the festival around the corner. Enne thought of her mother, wondering what the late matriarch would’ve thought.

“This isn’t what she advocated for,” she muttered to the silent guard.

Although Enne was right, so was Rita, in a pragmatic sense. Resources were sparse, but they had the living space. Worst-case scenario, they’d have to ration throughout the winter. They knew there was barely enough to get by, which is why the festival was important in maintaining their way of living. He knew neither would budge, feeling as though his words couldn’t reach either.

“There’s something I need to get off my chest,” he spoke.

“Is it about Billy?” she asked.

“I still haven’t told him—I don’t know how to tell him.”

The half-elf’s eyes wandered beyond the horizon before turning to him with a cheeky smile.

“I never imagined you’d clean up your act, but she proved me wrong. Even if he isn’t your son, I don’t think he’d look at you any less, Kenny. You’ve been a great father to him. Good fathers are—Hard to come by.”

She brushed her hair over her ear, collecting her thoughts. A return to the saddening sight evoked watching as women and children sat along the perimeter. The men of the encampment returned with food to feed their families. They would do whatever it took for their family to survive, but she also recognized the need for community as the migrants helped one another. This was a principle in Gardenia she held close. Though melancholy set in, it was masked by her rising anger.

“Where is she?” she asked.

“Rita?” he responded. “She’s at HQ.”

“Let’s pay her a little visit.”

They traveled through the crowded city streets, seeing merchants set up for the following week. Enne felt they were treated like royalty, rather than your average traveler. This was a way Rita enticed merchants to return every year at the cost of burning through their reserves. Leading up to the festival, merchants were often provided shelter and food; The refugees had to wait long in the cold before finding a placement.

A small band of people protested by the headquarter’s entrance upon their arrival. Guardsmen kept the protestors from pressing further as they laid down riot shields along the perimeter. The chaotic scene left the old guard astounded, watching as people were driven away by young guardsmen. She tried to pass through the crowd when she saw the mayor, but they stopped them in their tracks with raised rifles.

“No one is allowed in the building,” he said. “Lt. Striker?”

“Why is that?” Kenneth asked.

“It’s under the mayor’s orders.”

“How come I wasn’t made aware of this?”

She brushed past through while the old guard reluctantly followed.

“She must be out of her fucking mind if she thinks that’s going to stop me!”

“It’s an order!” he shouted.

The guard shot into the air, sending the protestors into a panic. She swiftly disarmed the guard before pinning him against the brick wall. The old guard froze, lifting his hands up. The other guards aimed their rifles at her, trembling, while her expressionless eyes stayed on the guard.

“Are you that stupid?” she asked.

“Put him down, Miss Bouvire!” another guard yelled.

“Or what? You’ll shoot me? Your bullets wouldn’t even bruise me.”

She let the guard go, softening her glare when she saw his terrified face. He was probably a little older than Billy, young and inexperienced; He was under pressure. The old guard followed as she broke the door down. She stormed through the narrow hall while they watched with guns clutched in their trembling hands. Kenneth saw her pensiveness on full display on the elevator doors closed.

“You alright, En?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to put that kid in such a predicament,” she admitted. “But pulling the trigger in the middle of a crowd, that’s reckless.”

“He was nervous.”

“I know, but that’s not a good enough excuse.”

Once the doors opened, she walked toward Rita’s office, everyone in the command center glanced. Her fists tightened while her heart raced when approaching the mayor’s office. Brandon was met with a powerful backhand when he tried to block her; He slumped against the cratered wall. Kenneth tried to hold her back, being shrugged off before she slammed the door shut.

She quickly blocked the door with the nearby file cabinet. Rita shivered as she turned to face her. Sweat dripped from her brow, having returned from her usual jog. Enne’s fixation drowned out the pleas for her to open the door. Enne’s convictions of justice boiled over as her stomach churned from the mayor’s negligence. Kenneth’s constant knocking overcame the moments of silence.

“I see they couldn’t stop you,” The mayor’s voice trembled.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she yelled, pacing forward.

“I’m trying to protect our city! What the hell are you doing, huh?”

“Cancel the festival! We can refocus our resources on trying to farm—”

“It’s too late for that! They’re already here and the show will go on, Enne! This is what we fucking needed.”

“You’re doing whatever makes you look good.”

“Our people—” Rita muttered. “No, my people matter. It’s not our fault if those refugees can’t get their shit—”

Enne grabbed the mayor’s collar before slamming her onto the desk. The knocking intensified as people tried to break through the door. Rita coughed violently, seeing her scowl as she stood over her. Enne slammed her against the aluminum cabinets by the door. Her pain overwhelmed her as she curled up against the cabinet’s base.

Rita tried to defend herself, but her attacker’s hits broke through with ease. Enne lifted her up before punching her against the wall. Blood smudged with the small dent as her body collapsed onto the ground again. The mayor couldn’t vocalize her desperate plea as terror embroiled her.

The concern of a maternal figure gazed back. Tears ran down her frown with trembling hands. The mayor caught her breath, watching as Enne sat against the ruined table. She glimpsed her bloodied hands before turning to the frightened mayor without a semblance of malice.

When the door finally broke down, Kenneth and Brandon were first to absorb the horrendous sight. Brandon raised his shotgun at the half-elf, as she turned to find contempt in his eyes. Enne detached herself, hearing the filled hallway, but no one else entered. A fleeting moment of violence was all that she did, instead of talking to Rita; It was akin to picking on the weak.

“En, why?” Kenneth gasped.

W—What have I done, she thought.

“The deed is—done,” she muttered, signaling Brandon to lower his weapon.

“Rita, can you move?” Brandon rushed over.

“Y—Yes.” Her bloodied lips quivered.

“Damn, we need to get you to the hospital.”

“Let me—Mend this,” Enne spoke.

Rita flinched when Enne stood up while Kenneth kept a close eye. She averted her bloodied hands as she looked upon the mayor’s visible fear. Brandon reluctantly moved out of her way, realizing she was no longer there to hurt her. Enne felt Brandon’s love for Rita; It reminded her of Alejandro. She kneeled down, reaching her hands out toward her.

Radiant energy encapsulated her hands as she rested them upon her. Rita felt her pain subside while watching the expressionless woman focus her energy. Enne hid her tightening chest pain, but she didn’t waver to right her wrong. The torment the mayor experienced never happened when she finished. She silently made her way toward the door while a path opened for her.

“Why?” Rita asked, meeting her empty eyes.

“I—Overstepped my bounds here,” she replied. “If the only way I can resolve, this is with the use of force, perhaps—I’m not needed.”

They watched her leave as her footsteps faded into a whispering crowd.

“Rita, are you okay?” Kenneth asked.

“Yeah, I feel fine,” she answered.

She stood up with Brandon’s help while the onlookers dispersed before she could say anything. Rita looked around her ruined office, astonished by how she endured; She felt her bones shatter and blood seep from her wounds while barely clinging to life. But Enne healed her, demonstrating her position of taking life and preserving it. Her silver eyes left a haunting impression on her.

“What did you say to her?” Kenneth asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said after tightening her lips. “We don’t need her help. It’s time for Gardenia to show we’re capable.”

“You have no idea what goes on out there. There’s a lot that the guard can’t handle.”

Rita glared, crossing her arms after Brandon sat her against her broken desk. The old guard wasn’t fazed by the scrutiny of her olive-green eyes. Brandon quickly cleared the hall, demanding everyone get back to what they were doing.

“Is this really what we should be doing?” he questioned.

“We have to make tough choices,” she sighed. “I know some people aren’t too thrilled.”

“And the vampires?”

She turned her attention toward the entrance, confirming it was empty. A vampiric force was more problematic than a flood of refugees; She didn’t have anything to counter them.

“If they haven’t already come, we have nothing to worry about,” she insisted.

“It’s only been a few days—” he reminded.

“Didn’t you say the mine entrance was blown out? What’s there to worry about?”

“That problem just doesn’t go away on its own.”

“We don’t need her. She’s already stirred up enough shit than there is.”

“She’s saved your ass more times than you could imagine.”

“Never asked for it.”

He sensed resentment in her tone. The feud between them had drawn out for years, but the half-elf and her better wisdom abided by the needs of the city, even if that meant working with Rita.

“I can’t do this,” Kenneth sighed.

“What are you talking about?” The mayor raised an eyebrow.

“I’m resigning once this is over.”

“W—Wait, what?”

“If it weren’t for the festival, I’d quit this moment. Enne wouldn’t approve that, though… And we still have a job to do, but I’m tired of all this bickering.”

“Going by her whims, then?”

“Anybody with a spine wouldn’t stand for this. Don’t forget where we—”

“Don’t give me that shit. I heard enough of it from her. We’re better than the others!”

“By looking down on people that look like our grandparents when they came here? This city was built by refugees, all wanting to make a better life for themselves.”

“And we can build on that.”

“That’s not what I see.”

“This conversation is over Lt. Striker. Carry out your duties if you must, but we’re staying on track.”

He nodded, biting his lips before bowing out. When he left the room, Rita leaned against the windowsill, glaring at the manor overlooking the city. The days ahead would prove unpredictable, as unrest began to spread.



Seems like Enne got tired of Rita's crap.
The interesting aspect of the Elven sibling's involvement with the city is the autonomy granted.
I've hinted throughout the story on Gardenia differs.
Despite Enne's nature, she knew she crossed a line.
Let me know what you think!
Leave a like and thanks for reading!