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“Alesa.” The words rung through the hallway, echoing off the walls and fizzling out into nothing. “Come on Alesa, I know you don’t want to, but we have to clean up.”
There was no reply.
“We might be getting visitors soon, and you don’t want them to think we’re a bunch of slobs, right?”
Nothing. Michael sighed, rolling his eyes. Truthfully, he had no idea if his message had reached anyone, or if anyone would bother to come to their little home in the middle of nowhere for a little remnant of safety. But it didn’t hurt to be prepared, and honestly the house was a bit of a mess. That’s what happened when you had a messy kid running around without a care in the world, especially one that ran away at the first sign of chores. There was no finding her now, not until he relented and did all the work himself.
“I swear if you’re hiding under your bed, I’m going to drag you out.” Michael swung open her bedroom door, only to be greeted with a room devoid of any life. The window was open, the curtains slowly swaying in the breeze. He let out another sigh.
“Jesus Christ, Alesa.”
The room was a war zone, just like he’d expected. Stuffed animals strewn around the place with a fine layer of dust over them, messy bedsheets half crumpled up, even some moldy food he could see on her bedside table that was just never thrown out.
He swooped down, picking up on of the dolls that was thrown down to the ground, brushing off the dust it had gathered. The little round eyes stared back at him, reflecting nothing.
“You better be thankful I’m cleaning this for you, you little shit,” Michael called out affectionately. “I do everything for you…” He mumbled. Together, they’d find serenity. Even if their first attempt didn’t work out.
---
They'd come to L’Manburg for safety.
That's why everyone came, really. It was promoted as this beacon of justice, freedom, and a refuge for those beaten down by the world around them. For Michael, it was also a deep seated curiosity driving him. For Alesa, it was the want for a home.
“Are we there yet?”
“Soon, Alesa.” Michael looked down at his map, squinting at it. “I think it should be ahead.”
“You said that before and you were wrong.”
“I can put you down right now and make you walk the rest of the way,” Michael threatened jokingly.
“Nooo,” Alesa whined, grabbing tighter on her hold on his neck, to the point she was almost choking him.
“Let me breathe, you brat!”
“Not until we get there!”
“We’re not gonna get there if I pass out first!”
Reluctantly, Alesa loosened her grip just a little bit, and suddenly, cresting above a hill in front of them, the shadows of building began to appear.
“There it is,” Michael breathed out.
“L’Manburt!”
“L’Manburg,” Michael corrected. “Our new home.”
“You promise? No more running?”
“Not if I can help it.”
And sure enough, as soon as they crossed the threshold to the land of new opportunity, they were immediately greeted by happy faces welcoming them in, gently directing them into the safety the walls of L'Manburg provided. Michael had assumed it would be a bit harder to get in, but apparently carrying a toddler on your back kind of expedited things when it came to their vetting process.
Within a week, they were finally settled down in a small house that could barely fit the two of them comfortably, but … it was home. They could finally rest.
The first night, Michael set up his radio station in the basement, letting out a breath that he had been holding for far too long.
“I have reached L'Manburg, the land of freedom from tyranny. Though rumors have circled about drugs and children fighting in wars, I haven’t encountered anything other than unending positivity. In the coming weeks there will be an election for the new leader of this nation, and I can only hope whatever happens, things will remain peaceful. Though I don’t know what the future holds, I believe for now we have found our own pocket of serenity. I encourage those of you looking for safety to consider coming here.”
He clicked on a song, letting himself rest for the first time in a very long time.
---
Michael had voted for Schlatt. Maybe it wasn't the greatest decision he had ever made, but the campaign he ran was strong, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he was better than the other guy, whose escapades he heard through whispers. Rumors of a drug van that solidified, stories about him trying to rig the election so that only he could be elected. It was enough to Michael decide to vote for the other option, for the man he thought would do a good job for the safety of his new home.
It was a stupid pipe dream.
As he watched the old leaders exiled from their own land, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach.
Alesa gripped his hand tightly. Arrows were fired off at the escaping ex-president and vice president, and all Michael could think was that he had just made a huge mistake.
Through the following days, a pit only further solidified in his gut, though a seed of hope for a better future had planted itself, as he desperately wanted to believe that this land was safe, and fit to be the home he had so strongly fought for.
As he booted up his radio station the next week, he let the world know exactly what he thought.
“Though democracy is hard fought and won, it seems that sometimes the will of the people ends up not being what was truly needed. Despite being elected, President Schlatt has declared himself emperor, and torn down the walls of Manburg, exposing the land once protected to outside influence. Though I haven’t been around long enough to truly know what consequences this may have, I can only assume that it will pose trouble in the future. Some people believe this is for the best, that Manburg should be open for all, but I don’t believe they realize the danger the outside world poses.
“With the former leaders of this land gone, we are vulnerable, but hope is not lost. I have some belief that perhaps President Schlatt knows more than he lets on, and is simply following what he believes is the best for this land. There are stories about former President Wilbur Soot, ones I happen to believe. He conspired to rig the election in his favor, pushing out any opponents to his rule. He recruited children to fight battles with him, putting their lives in danger in order to win a war through words alone, only to be betrayed by a close friend.
“As someone taking care of a young child, the idea sickens me. Perhaps Wilbur Soot was not the best choice for the leader of this land, however I don’t think President Schlatt is either.
“In the end, we have no choice in the matter anymore, and it is simply our job to protect ourselves, and not trust anyone. All you have in this world is yourself.”
---
Cleaning the room took entirely too long in Michael’s opinion.
He could admit that he was a bit messy at time, but Alesa… that kid was on another level of uncleanliness, as it looked like she hadn’t bothered to tidy up in months.
“We’re gonna have a long talk when you get back. The things I do for you…”
Though he complained, it was clear to see that Michael would do anything for Alesa. He’d hang the moon in the sky for her if she asked, or even just clean her messy, disgusting room, because that’s how much power her puppy dog eyes had over him.
It was ridiculous the amount of control a little girl had over him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Alesa was the one who had dragged him out of his despair. The one who had convinced him that it was worth pushing on in this corrupted world for the chance of something better, because clearly if someone like Alesa existed, there was a light in the dark.
Though it was hard to convince himself that there was anything other than a world with selfish, greedy people waiting for a leg up out there, he could believe that perhaps there was something better. If only he could bring Alesa there.
That night, as he waited for Alesa to return from her self-imposed exile, Michael stood in their too-small kitchen and pushed noodles around in a pot on the stove, trying his absolute hardest to not make something disgusting this time around.
Though Michael McChill had many talents, cooking was not one of them. The amount of times Alesa had secretly thrown out the food he made for her could attest to that on its own. Still, he wanted to try, because that was supposed to be his job in caring for Alesa. Home-cooked meals were a part of his childhood, so they should be for her as well.
Alesa never talked about the before times much, the years before he had shown up in her life and swooped her away to better pastures. It was clear to see that things weren’t great, but she never divulged anything to indicate what exactly happened to her biological family. It was almost like it just didn’t matter to her, because Michael was her family now. He didn’t have a choice in the matter. The little kid had just glommed onto him, and he was forced along for the ride, although he protested much more than he actually felt.
So, forced to adopt a child by matter of the the child simply not leaving him alone, Michael was determined to not screw this up like he was so oft to do.
He couldn’t mess this up. He didn’t know if he could ever forgive himself if he did.
---
“I want to go to the festival!”
“I don’t know…”
“You said we’d go together! You promised!”
Michael frowned, glancing out their window to look outside. The city was adorned with lights, banners, and ever manner of fun activities. Families were strolling around, children running to each and every attraction they could find. All in all it looked like a fun time.
Yet something seemed off.
Michael was the first person to say he was a bit of a conspiracy theorist, and he sometimes was suspicious of things that, in the end, were completely harmless, and yet … You had to be blind not to see the turmoil simmering underneath Manburg’s shaky government.
Whispers of a rebellion were steadily growing, and there didn't seem to be a day that went by without someone mysteriously disappearing, or taxes being jacked up on a poor, undeserving person, simply because the newly appointed president didn’t like them.
Michael really didn't have any opinions one way or the other, but he had to think of Alesa’s safety first. There was nothing more important than keeping her safe and sound, even if a part of him wanted to go out there and investigate.
A festival like this, in the middle of political upheaval- it just screamed something fishy.
Still … he had promised Alesa. He told her that they could spend some more time together, and honestly, it was getting a little depressing recently with how often he sequestered her inside. She was a growing girl, she needed space to explore and grow. It just seemed like Manburg wasn’t the right place after all. No matter how much it seemed to shine like a diamond in the rough, he should have known it would fall apart at some point.
Hope was fragile. All that would ever stay the same would be him and Alesa.
But happiness was also fleeting. So-
“Alright, let’s go.”
Michael reached out a hand, and she grabbed it quickly, practically pulling him out the door.
What was the worst that could happen?
---
Michael took a deep breath, coughing up the ashy air that still stung his lungs from the day the fireworks had gone off.
They needed to leave. That much was clear. Any country run by someone willing to murder a child … that was no place to raise one of his own. He had to think of Alesa’s safety first.
But it was so hard to actually pack up and run. They had settled down here, had found a home and set down all their stuff, finally resting after traveling so long. It felt wrong to rip that serenity away from Alesa when they had just taken a rest, and who knew if the outside world would be any safer anyway?
And yet all this place had done was make things exponentially worse.
When the president's right hand man had been trapped, and an executioner brought on stage, Michael had immediately pulled Alesa away, running as fast as he could to get away from whatever was going to happen, but there wasn’t ever a chance.
The fireworks had gone off, and then they were directed right towards the crowd that was shoving their way away from the gruesome scene.
Michael had scooped Alesa up, pressing her head close to his chest so that there wasn't a chance she’d see the bloody mess he’d caught when taking a look back at the carnage.
They had made it away without injury, but the smoke and ash had made it's home in both their lungs, and the fear from the day still lasted. Alesa wouldn’t even leave the house anymore, and Michael didn’t blame her.
The one thing keeping him going outside were the whispers he'd catch, the undercurrent of something big happening that he knew he couldn’t miss. If something was going to happen, he needed to find out what, and warn as many people as possible. That was his job. He was a protector, even if not many people believed him.
The day he heard rumors of a strike from the rebellion approaching, of a fight that might break out, he had booted up his radio station, sending out a plea for everyone to leave Manburg, even if it was their home. There was no safety to be found there anymore.
There was no more time to delay. He could no longer waffle around on whether or not they had to leave so soon, if maybe the rebellion would come forward and save all of them. It just wasn't worth the risk. Once again, their hope for safety had crumbled beneath them, and they were going to have to abandon their new home.
That morning, Michael grabbed everything he could, shoving it back into the small backpacks they had from before, regrettably having to leave the small trinkets and extra items they had gathered, simply because there wasn't enough space.
Watching Alesa look through her toys and try to decide which ones she could keep left the worst taste in his mouth.
“Don’t worry, I can get you more toys later, okay?” Michael placated her.
“But they’re going to miss me! I don’t want to abandon them!”
“You’re not abandoning them. You’re just… letting them grow up?” Michael squeaked out pathetically. “They’re, uh, they’re independent now! This will be their new home!” Alesa levelled him a blank stare. Michael sighed. “Listen, kiddo, I know this is hard, but… We all have to make tough decisions sometimes, okay? I promise, things are going to be okay. We’ll get through this, and then I promise I’ll get you more toys.”
“…That’s what you said last time, and now we’re leaving again.”
Michael looked away, a frown painting his face. “I know. I can’t promise this is going to be easy, but… we’re going to find serenity, okay? Maybe it wasn’t the right place this time, but we’ll keep going, because we’re troopers. Alright?” Michael held out a fist. Alesa paused for a second, and then lightly bumped back. “That’s my little Alesa. Now come on, we need to get out.” He swung the backpack over his arms, and then knelt down, letting Alesa climb up into it.
Michael stepped out of the house for the last time, closing the door behind him and letting in a deep breath of the ash, gunpowder, and dust.
He paused.
Why did it smell like gunpowder?
And that's when the world exploded.
One second, things were normal, the next, the ground was ripping apart, as the bombs underneath their feet began to tear, each explosion setting off another chain reaction.
Michael ran.
As the land broke apart beneath him, he ran as fast as he could away from the carnage that just kept coming.
Around him, the screams of the innocent rung out, and the smell of fire and gunpowder grew stronger and stronger.
Images of the festival came racing back, and all he could think about was getting away as fast as possible.
And then a rock came tumbling down, and suddenly he wasn't thinking anymore.
---
The next time Michael came to, there was a ringing in his ears to loud to ignore. Like a pounding headache, far too much to even try to think.
What had happened?
His thoughts were scattered all over the ground that had been torn apart beneath him, converging with the overpowering stench of death.
As he pried open his eyes, all he could see was a landscape of destruction, as the place he had called home was decimated.
There was nothing left. What had remained from the explosions had been destroyed by Withers, whose effects could be felt even as their death stopped the explosions. The withering effect had taken hold, and it was a struggle to even force himself up.
But not as much struggle as it should have been.
Michael reached back, his fingers going to grip the backpack that wasn't there anymore.
“Alesa!”
It was more of a screech than anything. A deep, devastating wail of horror as he realized that the kid was nowhere to be seen.
“ALESA! WHERE ARE YOU?”
All the fatigue was pushed out of his body as he stumbled through the destruction, climbing over the piles of rubble, ignoring the bodies he passed because they weren't small enough, they didn’t have the short purple hair that his Alesa did.
He had failed. He promised to keep her safe! They were going to leave! If only he hadn't stopped to warn others, if only he didn’t stay around to listen for what was happening. If only he didn’t stupidly believe that there was any hope for a safe place to just live for once.
There was no where in this world where they could just be safe. It was impossible. All there was were him and Alesa, together till the end. The only one pushing him through the day, keeping him from falling into a hole of despair and anger.
His legs were threatening to give up on him, the withering effect too strong, but he forced himself forward, tripping over his feet yet not letting it stop him. Not until he saw that purple hair laid out on the ground.
He collapsed next to her, grabbing her side and rolling her over. Her face was smudged with blood, her left arm taken by the withering effect, void black ink creeping up towards her chest. Though the weakness effect would go away in time, the damage it left couldn't be fixed. Not when it was this bad. But that didn’t even matter, because all he could see was the weakness spreading towards her heart, further endangering her already weak body.
“Alesa, Alesa, Alesa,” he whispered over and over like a prayer. “It’s okay Alesa, we’re gonna get out of here. I promised you that. We’re gonna go find serenity together, just like we dreamed of, okay?”
She didn't respond. Her breathing was weak, too weak.
“I’ll get you all the toys you want, you just gotta hold on, okay? I’m gonna get you to safety, I promise. I’m not letting you go, Alesa.”
Michael scooped her up, and ran. Even as the withering in the air curled in his lungs as his breaths came short and quick, he continued to run, because Alesa's safety depended on it.
He couldn't lose her.
Not when they were so close to serenity.
---
The plate of food on the table that he left out for Alesa had gone cold as Michael sat, staring at his own empty one.
The day outside had turned to night, and the house was plunged into darkness as he hadn’t bothered to set up any candles to light up the inside. There was simply no point.
Outside, the wind picked up, blowing in through the one open window by his side. The cool night air was a reminder that he was alive, although it didn’t feel like it much.
“Alesa… You can come out now. I did all your chores, I won’t force you to do anything… You can just come back. Please.”
There was no response.
He tried so hard. Everything he did he did for her, but it wasn’t enough. He just screwed everything up, because that’s what he did, and that’s what the world did to the moments of true happiness it found. It snuffed them out, reducing it to nothing because there wasn’t supposed to be any joy in this world. It was a cruel, cold, uncaring place that forced everything down with it, because nothing was allowed to flourish.
Anything anyone tried to do was reduced to rubble. L’Manburg was proof of that. Though it had risen from the ashes once, Michael heard through the grapevine that it had simply been reduced to a crater given enough time.
He had stayed in the area, unable to leave, but unable to go back to the land he had tried to call home. There was a grave he simply couldn’t abandon, no matter how much he wanted to run.
Then his house had been burned to rubble, and that was enough.
That night, he took a shovel, carefully grabbed the bundle of fabric buried under the ground that held the most precious treasure in the world, and walked. He walked until he found their old home, still broken down and in disrepair, and he wept.
There was no convincing himself it was like the old days, no matter how much he wanted. All he could do now was try to warn the others, because Alesa wouldn’t want him to give up.
Though L’Manburg and the lands around it may be cursed, he wasn’t going to give up and let it all be for nothing. He couldn’t. That would mean Alesa’s life had been all for nothing.
He would find out the truth, he promised. There had to be a deeper meaning. Alesa’s death couldn’t have all been for nothing, for a madman’s last revenge. There had to be something more or else this was all Michael’s fault for believing a lie so sweet about a land of freedom and leading his child to her death. He couldn’t let himself believe that.
Outside, a grave decorated in alliums grown through tears was cast in the light of the moon.