Chapter Text
Part 1: The General
Chapter One: I Hate Daddy Issues
This village had once been a peaceful place, full of spirit and soul. Looking at it now though dozens of bodies scattered, fires smoke bellowing into the sky, screams of horror. Owen wasn't quite sure he believed that.
"Kill it" the general said with an expecting look behind his fiery eyes. Owen looked down at the half demon in the ditch. He couldn't be more then 10 years old, just a few years younger then himself. The kid was pretty short and had a youthful look only a child could have. The kid looked terrified, and for good reason. This planned attack on the small district town was a vicious one. This town held one of few armories the demons had on it's upper east side. Destroying it, raiding it even could be a major step in the war effort.
The general probably could have sent the army from North East side of the village, reducing civilian casualties. But, his father wasn't put in charge to save lives, he was put in charge to take them.
"Kill. It." his father said, sounding angrier, wrath lacing his tone of voice. Owen looked at the kid again. He didn't speak, weather he was in shock or terrified Owen didn't know. But given the fact his parents were likely among the causalities, Owen thought it was a mix of both. How could he kill something so helpless? So small? So scared? In some twisted way the kid reminded him of himself, or at least who he used to be.
"I- I can't." Owen admitted. Pride and his fathers acceptance be damned, he couldn't kill this kid. The general looked down at him, the fire in his eyes growing at an exponential rate. "Father, I- I'm sorry I just-" His father did not even spare him a look before taking Owens hand (the one holding the knife) and guiding it into the boys neck.
Owen watched the boy gurgle and croak blood, he watched the light leave the demons eyes.
Owen was so so screwed.
The memory flashed, Owen felt the dream shift as it had many times before. He was now back in district 15, his old house, his fathers study, Owen hated this place.
He stood before his father, and even though Owen forgot most of what lead to this. He could tell whatever would come of it would not be good. "To be a solider is to kill, to be a solider is to harm, to be a solider is to show no mercy." Owens father said righteously, giving Owen what could only be described as an angry snarl before continuing. "Those creatures are just that, creatures. They are everything vile this world has to offer. They are the amalgamation of everything sinful and deceitful on this planet earth." The generals voice raised further. "They are so far below us they can't even be described as sentient. They hurt us, they harm us, they have killed us and everything this planet needs." "Us humans though, we are the very cures put into place to thwart them. Life will soon be one full of beauty and prosperity once we win this war."
His father took a step toward. Owen felt fear lace his stomach, he couldn't remember the last time his father had been this angry. "You though can't seem to understand that. Just as you weren't able to kill that vile creature by yourself. They are simply means to an end, a gold treasure pot at the end of a bloody rainbow. This war ends that bloodshed, ends the fear. Don't you want that Owen? Don't you want our people to be happy? Don't you want your mother to be happy?"
Owen paused at the mention of his mother, the way he always did when his father mentioned her.
"Of course I do." Owen said somberly and submissively. But then he thought of that terrified child in that ditch, and his fear was suddenly overdried. "But what our people are doing, what we have done- it's, it's not right."
The general took another step closer, his voice growing louder. "Are you questioning if we will win this war, child?"
Owen paused again, knowing nothing good could come from what he was about to say. "I'm questioning if we deserve to, sir."
His father normally angry but calm, subdued but scary turned over a new leaf. Something cracked that day, something that couldn't be put back together. His father lunged at him, and put him in a hold he couldn't get out of. "You powerless," His father grabbed on tighter. "Ignorant," the general pushed him to the floor. "Excuse of a child, excuse of a son." He practically spat the last words.
Owen tried to fight his way out, but his father had years of experience on him. He really did feel powerless.
"I thought showing you our ways would be enough." His father said now kneeling over him on the floor. "But you are just like your mother, weak, soft, unfocused." Owen was now wheezing, the pressure of the generals weight bearing on his chest. "I think it's time we tried another method." Owens father took one last look at his eyes before he looked down at Owens left leg.
"Owen!" A new voice shouted, one that felt oddly familiar.
Owen started to wonder who that could be, his thoughts though were quickly cut off by a snap and agonizing pain in his left leg.
"Owen?" The voice shouted again.
Owen shouted to, yells from waves of pain and agony he hadn't felt before. He briefly thought he saw his father leave, but was to engrossed in the pain to notice.
"OWEN!" Owen finally recognized the voice, it belonged to Mohwee. Owen finally realized what this was. A dream, a memory, a nightmare. "I'm glad mother isn't home." He thought to promptly to himself, before one last yell from Mohwee tumbled him out of his bed. Owen quickly got up and tried to shake the nightmare.
"Yeah yeah one second Mohwee." As Owen rushed to ready himself to Mohwee's steady knocking, he could feel the memory slowly slipping away. He grasped onto some parts like the faint pain in his left leg, or his love for his mother. What he hadn't been prepared to somewhat remember what he did to the kid in that ditch. Owen knew that death and killing were apart of the solider lifestyle, it was something you could never get use to, but something that had to be done. That death though, that kid- it was so avoidable, so unneeded. Killing soldiers that are trying to kill you is one thing, but an innocent kid? Although foggy Owen could also somewhat remember that one general. Brutal, vicious, had a down with the demons kind of mantra.
Owen never recalled knowing him to personally, but then again he couldn't recall much of anything before the maze. He knew he was a solider, he knew he protected, he knew who he was. Or at least he thought so. The Owen he knew now would never let someone control him in that way, make him do such a terrible act. But that Owen he saw was different, in ways Owen was once again forgetting. That didn't change the fact though that Owen knew his morals. Those were always the same, right?
"Owen, should I just leave?" Mohwee interluded, clearly starting to get annoyed.
"No, No I'm coming!"
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As Mohwee waited for Owen not to many thoughts crossed his mind. The clearing had been relatively quiet the last few weeks, something Mohwee was eternally grateful for. Between Bex and Apo escaping into the maze, and Apo dying in said maze- the thought of the skull still made Mohwee shiver- the clearing welcomed quieter times. And through the last few months Owen had actually become an acquaintance of sorts. Man if you had told him that years ago Mohwee wouldn't have believed it. But he didn't expect Owen to always be so selfless, and Owen respected Mohwee enough to not get mad every time he did dangerous things in the maze. He guessed their friendship had been forged from that, mutual respect and understanding.
Mohwee was even here now, he himself had volunteered to help Owen continue his goal of mapping the maze. Originally the idea had seemed daunting and pointless, but after seeing the map his mind was quickly changed. The map not only helped them learn to avoid dangerous paths and traps, but also helped them find new areas they didn't originally discover. Who knows? If they continued this maybe they could actually get out of here. Mohwee knew Owen was a strong fighter, but he was also a lot smarter then he gave him credit for.
Owen then broke down his door and immediately started blabbering. "Sorry! Uh- Puddy needed carrots, like just now. He- uh- gets angry when hungry." Mohwee wasn't dumb, he knew Owen was lying. But he didn't pester, he knew what it was like to be pressed for answers he didn't want to share. "No worries, we should get going though. I think it's almost midday." "Yes, that sounds good!" Owen responded cheerfully, but Mohwee could tell something was up.
As the two flipped their levers and wandered into the maze, Mohwee continued to chat about the similarities between Puddy and Oeca.
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"Ok so if the hallway to the left is 34 blocks long and 8 blocks wide that would make this section-" Mohwee stopped what he was saying knowing it was pointless. Owen's heart was clearly not in mapping the maze. He kept writing down the wrong things and gazing into the sky, clearly lost in thought. "Owen, you with me?" Owen snapped out of whatever thought he was having, "yes sorry, just tired." Mohwee supposed that objectively made sense given the massive bags under Owens eyes, but if you knew Owen you knew he never really slept. Clearly tiredness was not the issue here.
"Owen you can just tell me you know? I can be your own personal therapist, or should I say personal Graecie. She does give good advi-" Owen looked at Mohwee, then down at the floor, then back up again. "Normally I wouldn't share my real feelings with the people around here, but to be honest I don't really care what you think of me-" "Gee thanks." Mohwee quipped back, starting to see the smirk appear on Owens face before he went all serious solider again.
Owen paused for a second before starting. "Do you ever get memories, you know? Of your time before here?" Owen had an expecting look in his eyes waiting for Mohwee's answer. "Yeah a few here and there, but if you ask me to tell you them I swear-" Owen cut him off. "No that's not what I'm asking." Mohwee started to get confused but let Owen continue. "I mean, does your past scare you? Do you recognize yourself?"
"Jeez" Mohwee thought. He knew Owen could be rash, impulsive and hot headed sometimes. He also knew Owen probably had to do stuff he didn't want to as a solider. But what did Owen think he did that was so bad? If you really knew Owen, you knew he was kind and protective, never harmed unless needed, never scarred unless necessary.
"Jeez Owen what did you do that was so bad? Not return a lost wallet? Not help a kitten stuck in a tree?" "I'm being serious!" Owen said, starting to sound desperate. "Okay then, to be honest I only see pieces but it all still feels like me." Owen looked at him again, worry growing on his face.
"Look Owen to offer some Graecie advice, we all know you. Whatever treacherous nightmare you think you committed was probably just that, a nightmare." Owen started to ponder this thought. "The dreams and memories we get in here can be confusing. but I think they are meant to be. Meant to through us off track from the main objective here, getting out." "If I were you I would avoid those dreams, and focus on the task at hand. You know? Get out of maze first, question our mysterious back stories later?"
"Yeah" Owen said, straightening up a bit. "That's probably what it was, just some nightmare. You know Mohwee, you do give some Graecie good advice!" Mohwee rolled his eyes, "Owen if somehow make people come to me for their personal traumas I swear to go-" "Relax Mohwee I won't! Now, what were those numbers again?"
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Owen lied awake that night staring at the stars through his leaf canopy. He knew he wasn't sleeping anytime soon, but not for the typical reasons. Most nights Owen avoided sleep like the plague, if not to see flashes of creatures decimating their clearing, or Ori snapping his leg, it was to avoid seeing Apos skull- his horns still intact, the wet blood, the pile of bones. "Apo" Owen thought. A day didn't go by he didn't think of him. Apo always felt like the brother he never had. He always knew the right thing to say to calm him down, or could pick him out of any bad mood. Owen could also always sleep easier when he was around.
Owen wished desperately he could go back. Change what he said to Apo in the prison, done something, anything to get him to stay in the clearing, but Apo was dead. The worst part was Owen could do nothing now. Just like how he could do nothing to change the looming thought that the nightmare he had was as real as Puddy's love for carrots. 'No' he thought to himself. Mohwee's words echoed back to him. The nightmares were just a way to distract him. That made sense, he with Mohwee's help was getting closer to an exit. Whoever took their memories and put them here would logically want to distract him.
But that didn't change the seed of doubt planted in his mind, or the way his leg had broken so easily by Ori. Almost like it already had snapped before.....
END CHAP 1
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