A/N I'm back with more Skyland stuff! Decided that I felt like writing some more timeline gap-fillers because, apparently, that's all I end up writing. So this is going to be a shorter story that sort of resumes how the rebellion ended and basically, how Mila started a new life on Babylonia. And if you're reading this... don't hesitate to leave a review! :D
Also, this story sort of follows after my other Skyland story; The Lost Prophecy. But it also stands alone. So yep. :P
Fire. There had been fire everywhere. Explosions shaking the ground, threatening to break the large block apart. Buildings had been blown to smithereens in the blink of an eye. And Mila ran; skidding in the sludge of ashes and dark red ooze as she sprinted down the road. Rounding the corners and jumping over faceless dead bodies, cloak billowing noisily behind her. She didn't glance at them; or at least tried not to. They'd been disfigured anyway, no way of telling who the deceased was.
It was a blur really, the Sphere attack. No one had seen it coming it seemed, and the rebels had been left completely unprepared. That, and the fact that the Sphere had attacked in the obscure hours of early morning, when people were still asleep.
Now, as she stood in a field of swishing golden, many hours flight away from the smoldering rebel base, Mila considered that she actually couldn't remember much of the attack. She still couldn't understand –couldn't believe- that it had happened. All those bodies couldn't have been those of her friends. She liked to imagine blindly that most pirates had escaped and had gotten out alive, just like she had escaped with her two small children.
Marcus had been out on a major mission to take the Block of Azul at the time with a rebel fleet, so Mila knew that he was probably back out there now, perhaps trying to round up the remaining rebels.
Mila felt a slight twinge of sorrow shake her out of her daze; her home was destroyed now. The first real home she and Marcus had established was gone. Ever since she'd joined the resistance, she and Marcus had traveled through Skyland, never staying in one place longer than a few months. Angkor, being the principal base of the rebellion, had been special. It'd been supposed to last. The Sphere should have fallen… What had gone wrong?
When Mila closed her eyes, even for a quick blink, she'd see forgotten memories flash, as if a film had been burned on the inside of her eyelids. Vivid images of bloodshed. Sometimes it was the ghastly silhouettes of brigadiers coming out of the shadows, reaching out. Other times, she'd glimpse those blood-stained streets, glistening sickeningly underneath the burst of nearby explosions.
The attack had taken place several hours ago she knew, but it felt like days. Some part of her had wanted to stay behind and fight the invasion but she'd had no choice but to leave. She couldn't have stopped to combat alongside the others, not really. She had her small children to look after now.
The young mother still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that they'd actually managed to escape unscathed. They were relatively safe now, on Babylonia. They had lost everything, but here they were.
Her five year old son stood beside her now, holding the side of her shirt and rubbing his eye sleepily. Mahad looked over the sunny landscape for a while before looking up at his mother quizzically, as if wondering why they were here. His baby sister, Lena, was sleeping in Mila's arms, soundless.
Mila was at least relieved to know that Mahad had probably not noticed the carnage back on the rebel block of Angkor. He was too young to understand. In fact, when the first explosions had brightened the thick darkness, she had caught him gaping through the windows, observing the "amazing fireworks."
Mila had pulled him away from the window just in time because milliseconds later the glass had shattered, sending jagged points flying through the room, ripping up the paint on the walls.
"Where are we?" Mahad asked, yawning. "Can we go home now-"
Mila bent forward to look at him, reaching out absent-mindedly to push the black hair out of his eyes. He was tired; they'd been running for their lives for a long while without pausing to catch their breaths.
Mila looked at the abandoned brick house sitting in the overgrown field up ahead. "No honey." She sighed, not much knowing what to say next.
"But… why?"
"Because, we're going to stay here for a little while."
Mahad frowned confusedly, blue eyes glinting. "But... Where's Dad?"
Mila's throat tightened. She didn't know the answer to that question either. "He'll be here soon, don't worry." She finally said, laying a quick kiss on her son's forehead as the boy yawned again. "Come, were almost there now." She pointed to the house in the sunlit field up ahead. "That's where we're going."
"But I'm tired..." He whined, pulling away from her arms and sitting down in the grass, lower lip wobbling. Mila cringed. This was no time for a tantrum. And yet, she wouldn't blame him for it; she just didn't think her pounding headache could handle it.
"It's going to be alright," Mila said softly, cradling Lena securely in the crook of her right arm. She picked up Mahad and sat him on her free hip. She blew the hair out of her face and started down the hill, towards the house.
It was like a dream, this beautiful, summery landscape. It was so silent that she could hear a distant ringing in her ears, as if her ear drums had gotten used to explosions and harsh noises by now. The twittering of distant birds seemed unreal. The swishing grass too soothing.
After a few minutes of trudging across the uneven grass, Mila stopped in the overgrown front yard of the house. The front door was closed, but the wood was chipping and peeling away. The walls had lost bricks in a few places and the roof was missing most of its shingles; those that were left were curled and blackened like scorched scraps of paper. The windows, thankfully, were intact; although one was clearly one the verge of cracking apart.
The rebel knew from memory that there was a large water cistern waiting in the back yard. The pipelines connecting to the cistern ran all the way to the front yard where a rusty pump waited over a sandy metallic basin. She'd have to check if the cistern had collected rain water later on.
As if in a dream, Mila put Mahad on the ground and reached for the door knob; after a moment of struggling, and an ominous cracking noise, the door swung open into the musty emptiness.
"Hello?" the young mother called automatically, knowing that there would be no reply.
She entered slowly, Mahad following suit. The inside of the house was a mess. What remained of the furniture was scattered all over the place. Cobwebs coated the ceiling and a slight, rotting odor hung in the air.
It was just as she remembered it. The house had always been hers and Marcus's safe point, in the unlikely event that the whole rebellion would fall apart. Could it really have happened or was it all just a dream? She liked to imagine that this was just a fallback; surely the rebellion had not been completely destroyed? All those years of fighting against the sphere, gaining numbers, reaching that point where they allowed themselves to grow careless and smug with the newly acquired power... It couldn't be over. The very thought was so disheartening that Mila would have sunk to her knees right there and then if it hadn't been for the fact that her son watching her intently.
Mila shook her head, thinking. They would have to stay here for a while, until Marcus came to find them. At the moment, she had no information about the rebellion, no idea of what had gone so terribly wrong. She didn't know how the Sphere had found Angkor but she would surely find out in time. She had to concentrate on the problems at hand now. Firstly, there was a lot of cleaning to do if they were going to live here for a few days. And... It suddenly hit her that they had no food and she still didn't know if they had enough water. A few half filled water bottles wouldn't last long. Feeling a slight twinge of panic, Mila entered the living room, tearing the moth eaten curtains apart to let light in. A dusty sofa stood aside and Mahad yawned again. Mila smiled sadly. She instructed Mahad to sit on the ground and then she placed the baby in his arms and told him to stay put for a second while she cleaned the sofa to clear off most of the dust. Mahad, for once, did as he was told without complaint, holding his baby sister carefully as though she was made of glass and would shatter at the slightest movement.
When the sofa looked acceptable, Mila took Lena in her arms again and Mahad climbed onto it wordlessly, lying down. It only took a few minutes and he was fast asleep – without any tantrums. Mila vaguely considered that that was one of the rare times that he had listened to her.
After that, Mila took to exploring the rest of the house. The kitchen was completely devoid of any type of conserved food and she had expected nothing else. There were some dishes left though. Upon further inspection of the environs, Mila noted that the cistern had in fact collected a considerable amount of rain water.
She released a breath in relief. They had water, perhaps all was not lost. There was hope yet.
She also climbed the stone steps lining the outside wall in the front of the house that led to the room above. That room was crammed with some pieces of furniture, nothing of particular interest. Tired, she finished by inspecting the cellar in the back yard; she wrenched open the thick wooden doors sitting in the dust and a gush of cold, musty air rose from the dark underground. It had been so chilly and foul-smelling down there that she'd had to leave Lena back in the house with Mahad.
Working fast, she combed the earthy underground. And then she saw them; hundreds of glass canisters filled with seeds. Perfectly preserved, the dry seeds of all kinds sat there, glinting in the dusty light, with neat little labels on their surfaces. She wondered who's handwriting it was on those labels; perhaps it was Marcus's father. After all, this old house used to belong to Marcus and his father, until the day the Sphere came over. Marcus had recounted the story before but he hardly ever wanted to talk about it and Mila knew little about his father. She knew that he had been a farmer. She also knew that the Sphere had killed him for spreading rebellious ideas.
Mila's parents were gone too; they had died when she was still a baby. To this day, she still didn't know what had caused their premature deaths, although she had a few dark suspicions. She had spent the rest of her childhood living with the Sphere, where her seijin abilities had blossomed at the Guardian Academy.
How odd it was, to think that she had been a student at the Guardian Academy, not so long ago really; her only concern that of becoming the most powerful seijin. She'd even dreamed of becoming the Lady of light from the Prophecy. A dream she had once shared with Oslo, back when they had still been friends. She had transformed since then of course, because of Marcus. It was so strange to glance at her past self and realize how much things had changed.
It had been Mila and Oslo's initial sphere mission to capture Marcus those few years ago. A sort of try-out phase for newly appointed guardians it was. A challenge. Then everything had fallen apart. The pirate she was supposed to capture, she'd ended up saving from certain death. The result? A young guardian who found herself incapable of killing and a very, very confused pirate, thrown into an unexpected journey.
She'd escaped the Sphere of course, and later joined the pirates thanks to Marcus… It seemed almost laughable now, all the time they had spent fighting and arguing during their escapade from the Sphere. Mila had changed a lot since then. Marcus had changed too, she supposed. They still argued sometimes, but she loved him. And she knew that he loved her too. It might have seemed ridiculous for a former guardian and a pirate to be together at first… And maybe it still sounded stupid. But it had happened.
What an adventure they had been on though! From the Guardian Academy to joining a pirate base in the span of approximately two weeks. Yes, it had been a crazy journey indeed. But that was a whole other story…
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Mila picked up one container which was labeled; Corn.
Well, that was just great. They had no food, but they had dry seeds to plant. She didn't have time to wait for food to grow; she needed to feed her children now! Growling angrily, Mila lifted her arm, ready to shatter the container against the earthy wall. But the young woman stopped herself at the last second, placing the canister neatly back on the pile, eyes stinging.
How could everything have fallen apart! She thought despairingly, wiping her eyes hastily. She took a moment to recompose herself before climbing back out.
The rest of the day preceded dully by as Mila worked, almost robotically so, to clean up the living room area. She was starving by now but there was nothing she could do. Did she dare fly off in the ship to a distant neighbor's house? What would she do? Ask for food? That seemed ridiculous; people would never throw their food away because it was 'the right thing to do'. Food was in shortage in most places and now if the Sphere really was rising back to power, then she supposed things would only get worse again.
Lena was crying now. Mahad had finally decided to throw a tantrum and, having tired himself out, was sitting in the corner gloomily. Mila's head was pounding.
And then Mila flinched as bright realization hit her. She'd flown here in the Hyperion, hadn't she? Which meant that there was still hope left! Mila gasped with relief and gathered her children. She then rushed outside to where she'd docked the Hyperion a few minutes' walk away. She arrived at the block edge and, holding Mahad's hand tightly, descended the stone steps lining the very side of the block. A garage door was bolted into the side of the rock face and inside, where she'd left it, was the gleaming ship by the name of Hyperion. Red and grey, it looked out of place in the small stone room; majestic.
She vaguely remembered escaping in it, and how Vector had been there waiting for her at the docks back on Angkor. The old scientist had been standing there, grey hair covered with ashes, waiting just to make sure that she would take off safely with the Hyperion. Apparently, Marcus had asked Vector to convey a message to her. Vector had quickly explained that Marcus had left the Hyperion for her a few minutes before and that she had just missed him.
Marcus had run off apparently, to go collect something important on the burning block. Mila didn't know what that something could be, but he must have had a good reason to leave the battle of Azul to collect it and then take off for Azul again with another ship. She still didn't quite understand it. To take the Sphere block of Azul was a major mission that was supposed to be successful… Mila wondered if that battle had failed too. And if its failure was what resulted in the Sphere finding out the coordinates to Angkor…
Mila had asked Vector to come with them, but the scientist had refused. He'd told her that he was taking off to salvage what was left of his scientific work from his destroyed laboratory before leaving for his safe point. Some block by the name of Puerto Angel.
Mila had taken off sadly, thinking that the older rebel would probably not make it out alive.
Now, Mila opened the hatch on the front hull of the ship that lead to the cabin below; she then stepped down the ladder, still holding a crying Lena tightly and guiding Mahad carefully down the rungs at the same time. They stood in the cabin for a moment before Mila dashed to the small sitting area with orange seats and a round white table. There were compartments under the seats which she wrenched open. The first one contained an array of tools, the other a first aid kit, and the other-
Mila froze, eyes widening. A small doll had fallen out of the compartment. It was wearing a wooly red dress and had fluffy pigtails sticking out of its head. It stared into the air, almost sadly, with its button eyes. Thelia.
Marcus had gotten this doll for Lena, thinking that it resembled his daughter. Mila bit her lip as a rush of emotions hit her. No, Marcus wasn't dead. He would show himself sooner or later. He would know how to find her. Mila felt Mahad's hand brush her own as he took the doll.
"Dad thinks it looks like Lena." He said, almost to himself. He compared the doll to his baby sister for a few moments, before shaking his head. He handed her back the doll. "It doesn't look like her at all." He grumbled jealously.
Smirking slightly, Mila rummaged through the rest of the drawer that, apparently, had been stuffed with Mahad's toys. Little metallic airplanes (like the ancient ones used on old earth), some building blocks and - Mila pursed her lip - that damn boomerang.
She shook her head. She'd specifically instructed Marcus to hide that thing until Mahad was old enough. He'd taken to hiding it well in reach though, where Mahad could easily have found it.
Did he think this was funny? That boomerang was sharp and metallic. It was dangerous.
"OH!" Mahad gasped, wrenching it out of her grip, "I love this thing!" He yelled, swinging it around. "It looks like a bird. It looks cool. It- What is it?"
"That," Mila said sharply, taking it away, "Is for older kids only."
"But moooommmm..."
"No buts." She sighed, opening the last drawer. Relief coated her heart and she released a breath she had not realized she had been holding. The drawer was stacked with a considerable amount of provisions that would last them a few days at least.
"I want that chocolate bar!" Mahad exclaimed, reaching forward.
"Mahad that's not a chocolate bar…" She said tiredly. It was some kind of meal replacement bar. Chocolate was extremely hard to come by. Marcus had gotten hold of some once. She guessed their alliance with several agricultural blocks had paid off. Somewhat. She didn't think such alliances existed anymore. Mahad was too young to understand the severity of it all. She doubted he even knew that his father was the leader of the rebellion and that they were all at war.
"Well," She declared, packing the items back into a small bag, "Let's go eat."
A/N I think it's common knowledge that the Skyland timeline makes no sense, so I had to base my facts for this story on what the characters said in the show. For example, yes I do believe Lena was born already and that Marcus saw her because at some point, Lena mentions that her father gave her a doll (Thelia) when she was little because he thought it LOOKED LIKE HER. So there, Lena's born. And yes, according to most timelines, Mila escaped in the Hyperion. I'll explain how all that happened soon, and what was the mysterious something that Marcus came to retrieve on Angkor...
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