Chapter 2: B1: P2: Rebels

Kia snuck round the corner, trying to avoid being caught up in the crowd that surrounded the store. She moved past a very red-faced man yelling at an equally red-faced man, as she entered a small building nearby. Sherwood was inside enjoying a glass of milk. The owner of the establishment, which was a simple accounting office run by a Hustarian born immigrant- the only one that would assist with the orphanage’s finances. It was also a bar on the side to make even more money. The owner poured another glass as Kia slammed down the packet of papers the Sisters had given them.
“Mister Vem? What’s up with the crowd outside?” Kia asked as she sipped on her glass.
Damian Vem, proprietor, sighed, his dreads flopping as he shook his head, “Bunch of Davilks got mad at Hustarians for celebrating Ragl’s Day. Now it’s a big protest on both sides.”
“Isn’t Ragl a saint of Davilk anyway?” Sherwood asked.
“Yep. But Davilk’s don’t celebrate anything but the Heroes who slayed their god.” Vem replied untying the packet of papers.  "A bucket of bloody crud if you’d ask me.”
The door opened and a group of Hustarian stumbled in, cursing and cussing- stopping when they saw the two eight year olds.
“Dame, serving drinks to kids? And here I thought you wanted to avoid trouble with the law.” A scrawny older man with white hair joked.
“It’s just milk, Fred. Something you should drink more of.” He said opening a few bottles and jugs and pouring drinks for the three newcomers.
“Bloody Davilks, if they hate us being here so much why don’t they just leave our bloody homeland.” Fred complained.
A broad-shouldered woman with a face that had sharp edges that would make a sword envious sighed, “Because their glorious king wants to keep our land, and since our entire royal family is dead there’s no one for him to place as a figure head.”
“That’s the issue. I’d be fine if he did anything with it, but it’s just a military base the size of a kingdom at this point.” Another man replied.
“That’s royals for you. Even when something is bleeding them dry, they still want to hang on until it fucking kills them.” The woman complained.
“There are kids here, Carvalha.” Vem reminded her.
She glanced over at the two, staring at them. “A half and a full are going to hear much worse than swears, Dame. Why are they here anyways.”
“They always stay over to drink milk after the sisters make them drop off tax papers and what not.”
“Ah, orphans. Makes sense. Girls, what’s your names?”
“Kia. And this is…”
“Sherwood. And I’m a boy.” Sherwood said brushing his bangs out of his eyes.
“Bit small for your age, aren’t you?” Carvalha asked.
“Like they’re feeding orphans properly at that place.” Fred replied.

“Sure. So, kids. How do you feel about Davilks?”
“Dunno. Don’t really interact with them.” Kia said.
“Mostly jerks.” Sherwood said.
“You think most adults are jerks.”
“They are.”
“The orphanage, how split is it?”
Vems answered for the two, “It’s nothing but Hustarians. Full and mixed.”
Carvalha turned to her comrades and began to discuss to each other, “Well, we should get going, need to be rested for our revolutionary meeting tonight at midnight. Our secret meeting at Four Two Five Vermane Street. Put our bill on the table, Dame.”
And off they left.
The kids looked at each other and slid off their stools. “See you, Mister Vem.”
“See you, kiddos.” He replied at the two as they left.
Kia skipped along happily grinning; Sherwood walked with his hands in his waistband laughing slightly.
“So, we are sneaking out, right?” Kia asked.
“And miss a chance to see a real meeting of rebels?”
“The others are going to be so jealous of us.”
“They could have come along on this errand, but they wanted to take a nap.”
“Their loss, our win.”
The two laughed a little, before Sherwood got serious, “Eleven. Meet me out back and we can go.”
“Think you can manage to sneak out this time without getting caught Sherry?”
“Of course. I’m much sneakier now than I was a year ago.”
Kia smiled, “We’ll see.”

---

The two dashed through the dark night streets, making their way towards their destination, through alleys and over fences until they reached a house. They turned around to the back of it and crawled through a slightly ajar window and hid behind a pillar.
“Brother Fred, have you gathered the supplies for our plan?”
“Yes, Sister Gail, swords and explosive orbs enough for two each loyal Hustarian here.”
“And Sister Carvalha, have you the details of what we face?”
“Of course, maps from a simple act of pickpocketing, and the guard’s movements and switch off time from a simple act of blackmail.”
“We will break down the oppressive walls of Davil and hold hostage a Royal until they meet our demands. If independence is not on the table, then we can settle for more rights in the short term. If rights are not given, then we will give them blood and corpses. We will not accept nothing or the status quo. Not just for us, but all those who suffer as fifth class citizens in this land. And take it not wrong, if we return to our motherland, we will treat all equal- even the savages who conquered us- because Hustaria Fa Geala Voi Motre.”
“Hustaria Fa Geala Voi Motre.”
“Hustaria Fe Otrea Ples Jior.”
“Hustaria Fe Otrea Ples Jior.”
“We are Hustaria, we are justice, we will not be moved. All of you who is fearful of death, go home, stay home- we need not the cowards nor weak of heart.”
A few people left, mostly older and frail looking people.
“Do not blame those who left, not all can risk their remaining days like this. It is only martyrs who are fools enough to throw their lives away. Now, shall we begin the planning? Oh, yeah and to any young guests, the cookies are free for all.”
Kia and Sherwood dashed for a table of food, while the adults began to plan their terrorism.

---

“And they were all wearing uniforms as well.” Sherwood said.
“You should stop making stuff up, and just say you wrote a play.” Andrius scoffed.
“It’s true Andy, we even have a button they gave us.” Kia held up a pin that read Hustaria for Peace, No Peace Without Rights.
“That’s not really proof, you could have gotten that anywhere.” Valeria replied.
“It’s true, we went to their meeting last night in a house on Vermane street.”
Behind us a Sister coughed, “Dears, whatever are you discussing?”
“These two jokers claim they went to a rebel meeting, Sister.”
“Really, a rebel meeting?” She looked towards the ground. “Where?”

“Um, Vermane Street. I think.”

You are reading story Bone Shatter at novel35.com

“Well, well. I hope they were fibbing as sneaking out is a big no-no, no?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The two troublemakers replied.
“Good. I need to discuss something with the Mother, you’ll be good until another Sister comes to watch the room. Make sure the younger ones don’t harm themselves?”
“Yes, Sister.” Sherwood saluted.
The Sister left the room and the kids turned back to each other.
“So, new Demon Queen play. Here’s what Crea and I have so far,” Began Kia before Sherwood coughed.
“Am I a princess again?”
“No. That’s Valeria.”
Valeria nodded, “Very well. I can save him from his best roles.”
“It’s barely a role, Vale.”
“Yes, but you do a good voice, plus you’re the frailest looking of all of us so it’s more convincing.”
“Kia, you’re the Demon Queen, I take it?”
“Who else could I be?” Kia winked, “Crea is the Wizard Mentor and Andrius is the Holy Priest who loves to punch. Also, Valeria is a sword fighter.”
“But she’s the princess.” Andrius said, cocking his bald head.
Crea nodded, “Yes. But the princess being captured is getting old. This time the Hero is being captured.”
“And that’s Sherry?”
“Yes.”
“Kia, is it enjoyable to see me captured for you or something?”
Kia giggled, “Hey, you’re not a girl this time. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“I mean it all depends on how nice you are to me the rest of the week.”
Sherwood sighed and looked towards Andrius. “You should just find the costume for a female hero now or just a genderless one, I am not making it.”
Andrius laughed, “You could just be nice to her.”
“Andy, it’s Kia.”
Andy nodded, “Yeah, you do love fighting with her.”
Crea smiled, “Yeah, Kia and Sherry then you and Valeria are the most like actual siblings.”
Kia leaned towards them, “So, where does that leave you?”
Crea pointed towards themselves with their thumb, “I’m the favorite cousin who only shows up during family events.”
The rest of the day passed without any incident, and then the rest of the week in similar fashion, until the day before the play where Sherwood was still playing a guy or at the least a not girl as of the morning, and Kia who was planning to flip a coin to decide it regardless because it would be funny to her would be acting in found themselves being told to once again deliver papers, this time a request for a trip to a farm outside of the town to the Department of Immigrant Travels of the Lower’s office and all the forms to make it possible filled out already.
They walked slowly, the day was quite nice and the two weren’t going to get anything else from visiting the DITL, except perhaps some rude remarks on their ethnicity or age. They chatted, mostly about things eight year olds chatted about, not really paying attention to the world around them, and thus when it happened that a crowd was before them, they wandered into the back of the legs of a rather tall Royal Knight. The white armor with gold highlights, and a large spear in his off-hand and a sheathed blade by his on-hand, with a cylindrical helmet on top of his broad shoulders added to the imposing way he stood before them and the air that gave him.
He turned around to them and cringed, when he saw their eyes and their age. Sherwood and Kia moved around him before he could grab them and towards the scene the crowd was gathered around.
Impaled on ten long poles were ten nude figures, with signs hanging from their necks that read Terror to the Peace. They had legs and bent and broken and even cut off and their skin was bruised and lacerated. Their faces were burned and charred and their eyes had been removed. Despite the state of the bodies, they were instantly recognizable to the two horrified and shaking eight year olds.
The rebels.
The crowd, mostly Davilks jeered and tossed objects at the corpses, yelling “Traitors”, “Terrorists” and the whole with a few “Gross” and “Pervert” at a certain woman’s corpse.
The Royal Knight, a father of his own- and the least racist of the armored figures sent to prevent any riots or corpse theft- grabbed the kids and moved them to an alleyway, protecting them from seeing more and from the crowd who was likely to not take kindly to Hustarians, even children.
Kia was crying when they reached the alleyway and Sherwood slapped away his arm and stood in front of her, arms out glaring at the armored man.
“Why are kids like you out over here?” He asked.
“Getting permission to go to a farm?”
The knight cocked his head.
“Orphanage.”
He nodded, “I am sorry such a scene was seen by you. I am against such barbaric displays, but Lord Fatworth demanded it be done.”
Kia yelled at him, opening her eyes for the first time since having the corpses seared into her vision. “Why kill them in the first place?”
“They were planning terrorism.”
“They weren’t planning to kill anyone!”
“I would not say such things, even kids as young as you can be sent to the same end as them.”
Kia froze and slowly nodded, “S-Sorry.”
The Royal Knight looked closer at Kia, “Say, when were you born?”
“W-Why?”
“Curiosity and a feeling.”
“Piloti Fifth, eight years ago. At least that’s what they tell me.”
The Knight nodded. “Eight. Such a cruel sight to see so young and so innocent. Are you also eight?”
Sherwood nodded.
“I would suggest you take a different path back from the DTIL.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Asa Falladay. I hate this was shown to kids like you. By the way, names? I need to register you. There’s going to be check points now.”
The two rummaged through their pockets and produced their Identification Cards.
“Kia and Sherwood.”
They nodded.
He pulled out a stamp and stamped the back of both cards and handed them back. “By the way if you get stuck at a check point and see a girl yea high in armor a little older than you with short black hair and a permanent scowl, don’t let her intimidate you. She’s a sweetheart, and my daughter. I’d suggest you try and make friendly, but she’s a bit… well, I should return to my post. I wish you well.”
He left back into the crowd who were now saying slurs. The kids raced to the DTIL and tossed the papers in the box before running through alleyways back to the orphanage where they preceded to lock themselves in a closet and just cry together for the rest of the day. It was bedtime by the time the Sisters realized they were sort two kids and went to find them, any punishment stopped prematurely when they told them why they were hiding. They were allowed to sleep on the couch together, under the watch of a Sister, shaking and turning in their nightmares.

You can find story with these keywords: Bone Shatter, Read Bone Shatter, Bone Shatter novel, Bone Shatter book, Bone Shatter story, Bone Shatter full, Bone Shatter Latest Chapter