Writer In Motion Forum

I wanted to start by taking a moment to thank Ms. Rebecca McWilliams and Ms. S.M. Roffey for taking the time to do a second critique for me. I appreciate your advice and I have done my best to represent it here. The story ended up being just a smidgen over 1000 at 1007. I am okay with it though. I think it is a better story for it.

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     Carle's foot was greeted with pulses of agony as it connected with the old communications array. She jerked back clutching her foot, mouthing curses under her breath. Static blurred back at her, lost in its own nothing. The storm must have knocked out the antenna on the blasted thing. Again.

     She sat down, massaging her foot, making sure she hadn't broken anything. She should remember to raise her toes before she kicked things. At least hard things. She glanced up noticing a sheet of paper extending from the array. She ripped it lose, the message hadn't finished printing before the blasted thing stopped working.

   We'll be there by early light. She raised an eyebrow. No ships were due this week.

     She looked closer at the message. A flying cross adorned the top right corner. The symbol for the Captain of the Fleet. Her Father. She slumped back in her chair. He'd been top of his class, a zeppelin pilot able to navigate the fiercest winds. It's all in how you feel the wind. He'd say. People didn't get it, not even the other pilots but that's why he was the best. She smiled remembering his. Then the Emperor sent out a call and he answered to his duty. That was eleven years ago, she had been six.

     Carle crumpled the missive in her hand, lost in the memories of better times. Tears leaked from her eyes and fell to the page. She tried to wipe them away, only managing to rip it.

     She laughed aloud. Her father was coming home. He would swagger off that airship, give her a hug and rustle her hair. Still treating her like she was six, but she had grown up these last eleven years. He might even have to look up to her now. She caught a sob in the back of her throat.

     The clock on the wall blared, Carle rolled her eyes up to look. Early Light. That was now! She jumped to her feet, chair clattering on the floor.

     She dashed from the room, leaping the control desk. They would need her help with the array down. Her muscles began to burn as she ran down one empty hallway to the next. Her steps echoing off the walls. Down corridors lit by pooling light from caged lanterns.

     Her thoughts raced faster than she did. He hadn't been here for the plague, for the evacuation. He didn't know they'd been forced to abandon the town. Those that had survived. Mom, the others that they had left behind. No, no time for that now.

     Her hand caught a corner and slung herself down the final corridor before she could reach the landing grounds. A trunk sat just before the door. As she approached the trunk, she lowered herself to a knee sliding to a stop in front. She hefted the lid up, bright red letters greeted her. EMERGENCY ONLY! It said. Obviously this counted. They wouldn't be able to find their way home otherwise. She dug into the chest, throwing supplies over one shoulder then the next.

    "Big, yellow, plastic suit thing, get out of my way!" she murmured shoving it to the side.

     "Ah, HA!" she said as she brought a course grey tube from the bottom of the chest. Popping the lid, she caught the flare in her right hand before bursting out the door onto the grounds. The wing whipped strands of hair across her face as she searched the darkness of the morning sky. Where were they? The minutes ground by like frozen molasses. Blink. In the distance she saw the lights along the leading edge of the fleet.

     They were off course.

     The lead ship would be piloted by her father, she had to get him home. She rushed to the tower at the edge of the grounds. Round and round she ran, her breath coming hard her legs begging her to stop, but the adrenaline shouted down their protests. Rushing across the platform she struck the flare, arm holding the blinding light high. She wrapped her left arm around the center post and swung out over the field waving her arm desperately.

     The wind tore at her, driving her head down. It had always been her father's companion, she wouldn't let it betray him now, wouldn't let her arm fall. Specks of light caught the edge of her vision. She turned her head, the other scouts had seen her flare. They would help her guide them home.

     A smile crept across her face ranging ear to ear. Command had been right to her at this far flung outpost. She had proven them right. She drew a deep breath filled with pride.

     "WELCOME HOME PAPA!" she yelled against the protest of the betrayer winds.

     The wind grew bolder, stronger as it blew in defiance of her proclamation. She tightened her grip and leaned her head against the post. "Welcome home everyone." An eternity passed as she held on against nature itself.

     Pain shot up her arm, the flare sputtered. Tears wet her cheeks, she wouldn't let her arm fall. She let her eye rise to the edge of the valley, the sun had begun to crest the mountains. Darkness was being driven back by the light. The ships had corrected course. They were coming home.

     There were so many, she counted. Too many. She counted again. The weren't that many ships in the Emperor's fleet. This didn't make sense. She had received the message, seen the mark.

     They had adjusted their approach, the town had been sighted. Her home. Who were they? The ships began to turn, crossing the threshold of the town, broadside towards her. Blue and gold greeted her. NO! The Mage's Guild. SO MANY! Fully over the town the bombs began to fall, flames rose within a chorus of screams. Her fault! Her heart shattered. She sank to her knees, chin to her chest, hair covering her tears anew. It was all her fault! They all burned, her friends, her family. Soon her.

     "I'm sorry Papa." she whispered to the wind as the flames reached her.

    Carle?s father had been top of his class, a pilot able to navigate the fiercest wind. When the Emperor?s call came, he had signed up without hesitation. That was eleven years ago, she had been six. She remembered his smile most fondly, it could warm an entire room. It made her feel safe.
She searched the crumbled letter in her hand, it was torn in places where her tears had worn through. He was coming home, would be home before the early light. She fought to control the sob that threatened her again. Carle?s eyes flicked to the clock on the other side of the control room. Very soon! She was on her feet, her chair clattering on the floor behind her.

    She dashed out of the room, willing her legs to move faster. They began to burn as she turned from one empty hallway to the next. Down corridors lit by pools of light pouring from caged lanterns on the wall. Their town was so small they would be missed without the signal. Another corner, another empty hall. Finally she saw it by the door, where it always had been. Her heart pounded in her ears as she begged her legs to carry her faster. As she neared she slid on one leg stopping in front of the trunk.

    EMERGENCY ONLY. It read in bright red letters. The war was over, their fathers and brothers were coming home. Obviously this counted. She threw open the chest and started throwing supplies over her shoulder. Where was the flare? It was supposed to be here. A radiation suit went over her head, followed by some sort of canned meat. Finally at the bottom she found the flare and snatched it up.

    Grasping the flare in her hand she burst through the door and out on to the landing grounds. The wind whipped her hair about, her eyes searched the darkness of the morning sky. Where were they? Minutes ground by like frozen molasses. Finally, in the distance she saw them, blinking lights of the Zeppelin?s coming home. They were off course.

    Her father would be piloting the lead ship, she had to get him home. She rushed to the tower as the edge of the fields. Round and round she ran up the stairwell. Her legs begging her to stop, her adrenaline telling them to quiet their protests. Rushing on to the platform she struck the flare, its light nearly blindingly bright. She wrapped one arm around the center post and swung out over the field the flare blaring into the sky.

    The wind tore at her driving her head down and away. She would not let her arm fall. As she looked back she saw other flares along the valley come alive. More people had seen, more had come to guide them home. They had done right by putting her at the outpost. A smile went from ear to ear as she turned back to the wind and yelled.

    ?WELCOME HOME PAPA!?

    The wind grew bolder and drove against her harder. Head lowered again she eeked out. ?Welcome Home everyone.?

    Carle held her arm out for an hour in defiance of all, her flare long burnt out. Pain shot up her arm as the fleet grew closer. The sun began to penetrate the skyline and lighten the air. She let her arm fall to her side. They should be able to see now, as she could see them.
There were so many. She began to count and quickly stopped. There were too many. The Emperor never had a fleet that size. The message had not been coded correctly but it had said they were coming. Who else would have had the frequency?

    As they approached it was obvious they had sighted the town. Her home. They began to turn broadside. The sigil of the emperor was not upon their bow but the blue and gold of the mages. They crossed the threshold of the town. She watched as the bombs fell and the flames began to rise with chorus with the screams. Her home, her friends, her family all burned. Tears poured from her eyes at the horror. Soon the ships turned to her and she burned with them.

     Carle looked down at the crumpled note, her hands trembled. It had been eleven years since he left. Eleven years since he had answered the emperor's call. Five years since he had written back. Now the war was over. The Emperor wouldn't need her father any more. He would be free to go back to being a regular zeppelin pilot, go back to the old trade routes.

     She crumbled the letter in her hand and took off running. Down the hallways she ran, cage covered lamps attached to the wall providing distant pools of light. She skidded to a stop at a trunk and dropped to her knees. To her left a door leading to the fields.

     She threw open the lid and began rummaging through the contents. She tossed various uniforms wildly over her head, scattering the floor with them. Finally after minutes of searching she found what she had been looking for, a flare to guide them home.

     Grasping the flare in her hand she burst through the door and out on to the landing grounds. The wind whipped her hair about her face as she searched the darkness of the morning sky. Where were they? Finally in the distance she saw it, the blinking light of the Zeppelin fleet.

     Her father would be piloting the lead ship, he was the best. She rushed to the tower that stood over the fields. Round and round she ran up stairwell to the top. Rushing on to the platform she struck the flare, its light nearly blindingly bright. She wrapped one arm and swung over the field, the flare blaring into the sky. Other lights around the fields started to shine to make a path leading in. She could barely contain her mirth.

    For an hour she waited as the lights of the fleet grew ever closer. The sun started to penetrate the skyline and lighten the air. She could see the ships now, there were she paused to count...twenty-six. Carle cocked her head to the side looking at them. The Emperor barely had twenty in his fleet. But the message had said he was coming.

    As they approached they began to turn, northwards towards the town itself. With full view upon her she saw blue and gold running down the side. Those were not the colors of the Emperor or his sigil. She watched the bombs fall and the fires rise, followed by the screams. So many screams and she had lead them here. She burned with them.

Notes: Whoa buddy that is rough.