They are operating a flawless system. Years ago, they had used their armour and their weapons and numbers to wreak havoc on each of the villages, they had done just enough to make themselves known and instil fear in the survivors. Approximately half of all the populations had been slaughtered. From then on, they had ruled with an iron fist, demanding as much from us as possible, leaving us starved but just about alive. Occasionally a village might still riot, a band of outlaws may attempt to disrupt their operations, or the colony may just feel that it’s time for a reminder, either way they always retaliate with an extreme show of force. A power too great for us to even think about contesting.
The colony is led by King Breyden the Second. Tales of his ferocity and evidence of his cruelty are common in Avlym, but none have ever met the king in person. He is described by Becker and his men as the hero and rightful owner of all land, the single power responsible for the peace. None argue with the collector; any traitorous remarks would end in many lashes in front of the community, and that was if Becker was feeling merciful. Even drunk fools in the tavern had the sense to avoid such comments, one can never know if a trader might overhear and inform Becker in return for a small handful of coppers.
The king demands a constant record of everything, that responsibility had been passed to Arthur and his book. Every kind of supply and store is counted, the population monitored, everything, and they are furious if they ever discover anything hidden. It is a system that ensured that no other village is able to thrive enough to reach their level of development, without the quota they may be challenged, with it they can continue their rule.
Of course, we all dream of revolt, of getting free from the colony once and for all. But history has taught us that our hopes are just that, hopes and dreams, never to be acted upon unless ready to lose everything.
“-looking for someone. We were on our way to see Arthur when the next thing we know your damned wife is taking a broom to one of my men!” An armed Becker shouts at a man being restrained by a pair of the colony men.
Becker is the colony’s correspondent to Avlym, keeping them updated on our village and development and ensuring we meet the quota. It is he who calculates just the right amount to take from us. Heartily disliked, he is a vicious and cruel man who enjoys it thoroughly when we fall short of the colony’s expectations. It means he would have someone to punish.
He also abuses the task of keeping the books for what the king demands, meaning he can greedily take his own profit on the side for himself and his men without any higher power being any wiser. If there is one thing that unified Avlym like nothing else, it was the seething hatred we all feel for him upon sight. He is responsible for all our hunger, all those long dark nights, the occasional infants who fail in their struggle to make it to childhood. As none in the village have ever personally met the king or any other colony leader, he is the embodiment of the ruling civilisation, and if the colony ever does fall, I have no doubt that any of us who are lucky enough to have the opportunity would tear him apart.
The two men are having a hard time restraining Bruce, years of working the fields has given him the strong arms that are requiring a fully-grown man to tend to each of them whilst Becker continues. He occasionally deals a blow to silence the man at his feet, ensuring that he’s heard.
“You know we can’t let that stand Bruce. Sure, today it may just be a broom, but before we know it we could have a full-blown riot on our hands, and then where would we all be? We’d have to put an end to all of you, and this place is much too valuable for that!”
“Please!” Bruce begs, tears streaming down his face. A parting in the crowd reveals his wife lying unconscious in the dirt. Krista’s forehead is slick with dark blood, her eyes closed but flickering feebly. “She didn’t know it was you, would never have attacked if she had known it was you! Probably just thought you’d come to raid the stores, please let her go!” He pleads, his whole body straining to break free to his wife’s side.
“Oh, how I wish I could, but I’m afraid we just can’t let something like this slide. Look at Lee here,” Becker gestures to the man on his right, “he never was the smartest, now he’ll have to return home to his children and I’ll have to explain why their poor old daddy is blunt as a rock.”
“What is going on here?!”
“Ah fantastic, Arthur! Don’t worry we’re all sorted here, take me to your home we need to have a word,” and with that he promptly kneels down, a brief flash of silver dances through the darkness, and then he’s heading off towards Avlym. A wreck burns behind him and Krista stares at the stars with lifeless eyes.
Arthur, lost in his own torment and disbelief until snatched back to reality by the pained wails of Bruce, who has collapsed to his knees beside his still partner, surveys the nightmare once more before tightening his jaw and swiftly following Becker and his men.
“Have you had any travellers turn up at your village recently?” Becker says in gruff, hushed tones, barely audible to myself as I crane up against the side of Arthur’s window. I am submerged in thick brambles which tear at my skin and add to the collection of holes in my shirt.
Old untamed curiosity had led me to pursue the men back to Arthur’s home, it
