~Andante-Piano~
Phantasm's Shadow

Aurelia peered into the dark, cold depths of the base's water reservoir. The circular pond conjured up a mirror of her face's mask of gloom, and Aurelia turned away in frustration. Miranda had told her about the pond early that morning; Aurelia had discovered her in the sub-basement vault, sitting calmly with her back straight against the wall and her hands folded in her lap. If this had disturbed the stoat, it was nothing compared to the placid look of derangement in the gecko's eyes. Aurelia had asked about water for washing after verifying that the base's running water was permanently out of commission, and Miranda had mildly given directions to the reservoir.

"Will the water be sanitary after... what happened?" the ermine had asked, treading lightly on the painful subject. To her surprise, Miranda had not reacted.

"Yes," she'd responded. "In fact, the blast probably purified it." Then she had giggled abstractly.

Aurelia had been glad to leave the sub-basement.

The reservoir lay ominously in a sort of inner courtyard. All around were the base's high, scorched walls, above was the brooding sky, and underfoot was newly singed grass that crackled when it was stepped on. Aurelia was reminded of a castle, although this base was far less engaging and romantic than she had always known a castle ought to be. A stack of large basins stood by the pond's concrete shore, and she mechanically filled one with the reservoir's cold but clean water and dragged it back inside. She wandered through the morbid resonating halls until she found the living quarters; the door locks had been fused in the detonation, but the synthetic door material had been weakened enough for Aurelia to kick one open, the torn metal of the lock hanging obscenely in the wall. The sleeping halls were all alike; fragile blackened beds on charred tile floor, an adjoining bathroom with a large bathtub built into the floor, presided over by a now-useless shower head dangling haphazardly from the wall. Large windows, forever shut, looked out on the once-beautiful Macbeth landscape. The view was now defiled by the hideous byproducts of war.

Back in the storage hall, Aurelia knew that Henderson, Lindsay, Cynthia, and maybe Isabel were making what breakfast they could and trying to make the room more fit for living. Finding wash water had been her part. Well, they would be fine on their own until she could take a bath; she'd take a few basins back with her so they could wash their clothing. She emptied the basin into the tub.

As she slipped out of her bloodstained uniform, the stoat perceived that she seemed somehow shrunken. Like all stoats, Aurelia had always been almost abnormally thin, but she felt skeletal now, as if her flesh had shrivelled. With a wavering sigh, she stepped into the icy bath. It was numbing, but she was in no position to do anything about the uncomfortable temperature. Armed with a bar of soap and a ragged washcloth and towel set from the storage room, she set to work, scrubbing the caked blood from her face and arms and taking care to not start her wounds bleeding again.

Although she knew she had no bone fractures, she felt broken as she lay in the stagnating water. She had bruises almost everywhere and it hurt to wash, but the ermine felt that the feeling of refreshment the scrubbing earned her was worth the discomfort. A weariness overtook her then, and she might have fallen asleep had the water not been so frigid. As it was, she finally rose painfully from the water and dried herself as well as the threadbared towel would allow. Finding a seared but clean set of clothing in one of the large storage bins by the row of beds, Aurelia dressed in this while her own clothes soaked in the water she had vacated. She knew the water wasn't really clean enough for laundry after she'd bathed in it, especially not with what she'd washed off, but it was the best she could do without having to make the long journey back down to the reservoir. Besides, with a few squirts of antibacterial detergent...

The bloodstains, she realised, probably would not ever come out. If she'd had her heavy-duty laundry supplies or had gotten to washing her clothing soon enough, they might have had a chance, but as it was they'd always bear the proof of what had happened to her here. Despite this, she scrubbed at them dutifully. She might not be able to get the stains out completely but she'd certainly do what she could.

Aurelia took another look down at the uniform she was wearing. It was dark green and had a shine to it-- at least it had before the blast ruined it. A very smart-looking uniform. Whoever had owned it must have been proud to wear it.

She let her hand float idly in the water as her mind immersed itself in thoughts that seemed to make her head hurt. War-- two sides opposing each other violently. Each side obviously believes it is in the right. So much that every soldier on every side is willing to die for their cause. And if just one person dies for the sake of what they believe in-- doesn't that make their belief infinitely deserving of respect, honour, and reverence? And then where is war at all?

Too hard, Aurelia thought firmly and got back to her laundry. It's too hard. Dwelling on it will only make me tired, and it won't yield any answers.

The gruesome blemishes on her clothing were far less vivid now, and the garments had lost their pungent odor of blood. Aurelia hung them over the shower bar to dry, and as she let the reeking water out of the tub, she was grateful that even with no running water, the drains still worked.

She felt better now. Strong enough to accomplish the tasks at hand. Still not strong enough, unfortunately, to look ahead any farther than she absolutely had to; taking it one day at a time would be hard enough. Maybe they'd all move into these living quarters instead of the storage hall. It would feel at least a little more natural than living on the floor in a depressingly huge foyer that seemed as if it were trying to emulate a deserted warehouse.

Aurelia dragged the basin back with her through the corridors. It was much faster going now, half because she was revitalised and half because the basin was empty. She pushed it in front of her as she stepped into the courtyard and filled it with more water. Now, would she be able to remember how to get back to the storage hall where the others were? The base was distressingly big, despite its rushed construction, and there were several entrances to the courtyard from inside the base. Which one had she come from....?

A bit of backwards thinking and a wild guess led her to select the door second from the left, and the stoat set off towards it at as brisk a pace she could manage while lugging the nearly overflowing basin behind her. Aurelia was certain there was a more direct way to get to the storage hall, but as she didn't know it and her only reference point was the sub-basement, she'd have to take the scenic route.

She stopped to check in on Miranda as she ponderously marched past the vault. Leaving the basin in the corridor, she punched in the access code and found Miranda still sitting, back against the wall, hands folded in lap. The gecko looked very tired now and a little sad; her head was bowed and her eyes unfocused.

"Miranda?" Aurelia spoke softly. It seemed to take a little while before Miranda reacted.

"Yes?" She inquired, lifting her head up.

"Are you all right? I mean, is there anything I can do...?"

"They came to me last night," the lizard said, tilting her head to one side. Her eyes glazed over a little but her expression was thoughtful.

"They?"

"Yes. Many of my troops-- my friends. The ones that I killed."

Aurelia felt something hard forming itself in the pit of her stomach, but she steeled herself. "What did they say?"

Miranda furrowed her brow. "They just told me... that I had sent them to Hell."

The feeling in the pit of Aurelia's stomach worsened drastically. "...Oh?"

Miranda nodded. "Yes. And they said they had come to take me back with them." Then she looked directly at Aurelia, her eyes reflecting a quiet confusion. "But they didn't."

"Well, that's good," Aurelia babbled, trying to think of something helpful to say.

"They didn't get me," Miranda repeated. "Do you know why they didn't?"

"No," the ermine mumbled. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Ah."

"But it may have been because.... I'm... supposed to... stay?" Miranda said, sounding uncertain.

At last Aurelia's stomach went back to normal. "Yes," she said with relief. "Yes, I'm sure that was it. And please stay. We need you here. In this.... maybe you can redeem yourself."

Miranda nodded slowly. Her countenance was ever-so-slightly lifted.

"And," Aurelia said as brightly as she could, "I know something you can do right now."

"What?"

"Water. Wash water," the stoat informed her, gesturing ambiguously. "From the reservoir. I have one basin, but we'll need more than that. If you could bring another...."

"Yes." Miranda was already out the door.

Aurelia smiled in something that was almost akin to self-satisfaction and continued transporting her own basin up the sloping corridor. She all but began to hum to herself. Not quite, but almost.

The second she arrived in the storage hall, she knew something was horribly wrong. Her intestines began to knot themselves sickeningly up and her heart sped up until it was almost one continuous beat. In the centre, near the bedrolls, Lindsay, Henderson, and Isabel stood in a triangle over something on the floor. Henderson and Lindsay had covered their mouths with their hands and their eyes were full of dreading alarm. Isabel's face registered nothing but a mirthless interest.

Aurelia abandoned the water basin and raced over to them. "What is it?" she asked as calmly as she could, which wasn't very.

"It's Cynthia," Lindsay shrieked hysterically, stumbling back. "Oh, God! Oh, my God!"

Henderson bowed his head and closed his eyes tightly.

"What??" Aurelia panicked, while her heart clambered up through her throat and made her choke on the next shallow breath. Her eyes focused on a motionless lump wrapped in a bedroll. "What happened?!"

From within Henderson's hands, a muffled voice was heard. "Cynthia.... killed herself."

Aurelia's heart skipped five beats. She could not move. "How..."

"Last night," the fruit bat continued, eyes still shut, mouth still covered. "The sleeping pills..."

"We found the empty bottle in her hand," Lindsay supplemented from where she was breathing raspily and rocking back and forth convulsively.

Aurelia sank to the ground. No. No. This was not happening. It couldn't. She just couldn't handle it. Not now. She couldn't...

Suddenly she felt something. Not physically, but it was definitely there. She lifted her head and turned around.

Miranda was standing in the doorway. She looked taller somehow. Her eyes locked with Aurelia's. And somewhere, Aurelia found strength. She straightened her back and raised her head high.

"This is not going to happen again," the ermine said firmly. "Do you understand? This happened once..." and she made eye contact with them all in turn, "and never again.

"Never."

And with those words began the existence. Taking the easy way out was not an option. They had confronted death and succeeded; through that confrontation had been born a new challenge. Now they would confront life.