Remembering the Past

They had attacked under the cover of nightfall. Like cowards, the humans had set fire to their little village while they slept. Xiamore woke to the sounds of crackling fire and fighting outside. Coughing on the smoke, she summoned her bow and stepped outside. The human men were heavily armed, their intent was clear. They were here to kill all of them. Xia raised her bow and reluctantly sent it into the chest of a man wielding an axe. They had seemed so kind, curious to learn about the Lockettes and make friends with them. When a few of her friends had questioned the humans, she had stood up for them. But she could see the humans now for what they were, liars who feared anything they did not understand. Obviously, their former “friends” had not done as much studying of their behaviors as they had thought. The humans quickly realized they were outmatched, but they stubbornly fought on. They had the surprise advantage, but the Lockettes were born fighters. They entered the world with the ability to summon weapons and train with them.

Xiamore slain man after man. Those who she had considered friends charged at her with murder in their eyes. She switched from bow to staff and fought them back. “Why?” Xiamore asked the one called William. Not six weeks before, she had saved his life after he had stumbled across a poisonous snake while hunting. When he awoke in their infirmary, he had cried and called her an angel. Now, he lunged at her, his spear narrowly missing her shoulder. Was she being fanciful, or did she see remorse in his eyes? Her staff caught his head, drawing blood and knocking him back. One of his cohorts came up behind her and got one of his knives into the joint at her hip. He dug it in, twisting it painfully deeper into the socket. Xiamore spun him around, knocking his hand away from the knife, which stayed wedged into her hip. She kicked his stomach and he fell backwards into a burning hut. Xia yanked the knife free.

William was just recovering, gripping his spear tightly with both hands. Xiamore moved swiftly, but the spear caught her thigh. The force was almost enough to break through her body. She took the knife she still held and aimed it at him. He tried to smack it from her hand, but missed, as she nicked him. Very unluckily for William, the little cut was just deep enough to slice his jugular. His eyes got wide and he fell awkwardly to the ground. The blood poured from beneath his hands, which he pressed against his neck futilely. He was dead even before the next human turned his sights on Xiamore.

The fight lasted all night. The sun rose on the blood covered village, tendrils of smoke from the fires still lingering over the scene. Two Lockettes and two dozen humans dead. Never before had they taken human lives. Xiamore stood and stared at the limp bodies of her former friends. Then slowly, one by one, they stood up. William looked at her with disbelief. “How could you?” He asked, blood spurting from his mouth and the gash in his neck as he spoke.

”You attacked us.” Xia cried. “We never choose to fight you, but your kind will not leave us in peace!“

The reanimated humans started up their protest. Their accusations hurt worse than the pain from her dislocated hip. William got to her first, wrapping his blood caked hands around her throat, as if to strangle her. Not that it would work, Lockettes had no lungs, therefore they did not need air, but the panic was enough to send her upright in bed.

Not again. Was her first thought after the nightmare cleared. She checked the time on her little pocket computer and sighed. It certainly wasn’t the first day she had started at 4 a.m., and she doubted it would be the last. Xia climbed off her cot and got dressed. No one else in the camp was awake, save maybe three or four people on night patrol somewhere near the city gate. Xiamore slowly walked past the empty shells from the buildings of this once thriving Heartland city. But her mind was still elsewhere. In a smoldering Lockette village. On a battlefield covered in Lockette remains. Laying on a bed of dead grass surrounded by the bodies of people who never asked to be a part of any Earth wars.

She made it to her little bench on the hilltop before she started crying.