Jon Messenger - Burden of Sisyphus

The officer to Keryn’s right stepped forward and interrupted. “Are you Keryn Dania Riddell, formerly of Lagurica?” His tone, though soft and sympathetic, still bore the rigid dialogue of a soldier unused to dealing with more-compassionate situations. “Are your parents Lilith and Malta Riddell?”

More confused than ever, she nodded. “What is this about?” She looked back and forth between the officers and the dean.

As her eyes fell upon the silent officer on the left, a badge on his uniform triggered an old memory. Three intertwined gold loops hung above the name bar on the right side of his chest. Throughout her studies, she saw that symbol many times during her Uligart studies.

He’s a chaplain, the Voice confirmed. Keryn, religious officers come to visit people for only one reason.

She hushed the Voice, but a lump formed in her throat, as she tried to think of another reason for a chaplain to be there. Growing up on a planet saturated with warriors, she occasionally saw the Infantry visit parents and siblings in their homes. They wore similar crisp uniform and always had a chaplain in the pair when they brought bad news to distraught family members.

Tears welled in her eyes, as she asked again, wanting to hear them confirm her suspicions but deathly afraid that the Voice was right. “Why are you here?”

“Ms. Riddell,” the officer on the right said, his low voice filled with emotion, “we regret to inform you that your brother, Eza Riddell, was killed in the line of duty.”

Tears spilled from her eyes, rolling down her tanned cheeks and pooling on her chin before tumbling into her shaking hands. Unable to contain herself, she leaned forward and hid her face in her hands, as her body was wracked with sobs. The dean and the officers waited patiently.

Eza had always been the stronger of the two siblings. It seemed impossible to believe he could die. Keryn still remembered being in the auditorium during Eza’s Initiation. Though only a little girl at the time, she was awed by his speed and grace once inside the Warrior’s Circle. His ax was little more than a blur, as he earned his right to be welcomed into the warrior caste.

Of all those she watched go through Initiation, Eza retained more of his original personality than any other. Even afterward, she still had her big brother. That was what she remembered most about him. No matter what mission he was assigned in the Alliance Infantry, he was always faithfully supportive. He offered Keryn advice as she grew up and was one of the few who supported her decision to forego Initiation in order to take the Academy’s entry exam. After all he did for her, he couldn’t be gone now!

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Looking up through bleary eyes, she saw the chaplain’s sympathetic face, as he offered her a box of tissues. She gave muttered thanks and wiped her puffy eyes and blew her nose.

“How did it happen?” she croaked, her voice tight.

“He was defending the Alliance from a Terran threat when he was killed,” the officer replied. “Unfortunately, due to the nature of his work, I can’t offer more information than that.”

“Classified.” She nodded. Eza excelled in everything he put his mind to. It was no surprise to anyone, least of all Keryn, when he was accepted into the prestigious covert operations division of the Infantry.

When the silence stretched a few moments longer, the officer, who was clearly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. “Ms. Riddell, we’ll be on the Academy grounds until tomorrow night if you have any questions. There’s still some paperwork we need you to complete, since you’re listed as his beneficiary. However, that can wait. I know this must be a delicate time for you.”

“If you need anything at all,” the chaplain added, “please don’t hesitate to ask. Our sole purpose being here is to help you through this difficult time.”

Keryn nodded, as they walked past and placed comforting hands on her shoulder. Far from being comforted, she felt heartache surfacing, as they left. Pulling another tissue from the box, she wiped more tears from her eyes.

As the door clicked shut behind the officers, Dean Brothius said, “Keryn, I’m truly sorry for your loss. If there’s anything I can….”

She stood, unable to listen any more. Her face grew hot, and tears threatened to fall again. Not wanting him to see her crying, she thought it was better to leave. She took the box of tissues and nodded, unable to trust her voice. As she left, silence stretched between them.

She staggered around the corner from the dean’s office before sobbing uncontrollably. Leaning against the cool stone wall, she cried until her knees buckled, and she collapsed. Keryn pounded her fist against the ground, while memories of Eza went through her mind. Every time she thought of what he did for her, and that he was gone from her life forever, she hit the ground again. Anger swallowed her sadness until a guttural howl of loss erupted from her throat. Faces emerged from rooms down the hall to look for the source of the commotion.

“Keryn?” a musical voice asked softly behind her. “I’m sorry about your brother.” Victoria placed her hands on the Wyndgaart’s shoulders, but she brusquely brushed them aside.

Keryn climbed to her feet, ignoring Victoria, and walked away without a word. She wiped away tears with the back of her hand, as she walked to her room. Though she began slowly, she was almost running by the time she turned the corner leading to her barracks room. She slipped past the unlocked door and slammed it shut behind her, losing herself in inky darkness.

The cool door felt wonderful on her flushed, hot skin. Pressing herself against it, she realized she was alone in the room. Either Victoria told Iana to leave, or she had the foresight to leave Keryn alone for a while. She was glad to have the privacy to suffer through her heartache in silence.

Staggering away from the door, her eyes moist but no longer spilling tears, she moved toward her bed and sat heavily, crushing the letters strewn across it.

For nearly two months, she felt as if she found a surrogate family, like she truly belonged. She made friends and succeeded where no one, not even her parents, expected. Suddenly, she felt as if a new hollow was carved in her chest. Coldness crept from the void and suffused her body, leaving her empty and alone.

Thoughts of her friends at the Academy were nothing compared to losing Eza. His support for her hardships was gone. There was no one left she could lean on. As she tipped heavily to one side, she let gravity pull her down to the soft mattress.

As her face struck the pillow, hard plastic bit into her cheek. Jerking back, her fingers moved across the pillow until they located the culprit. It was the jewel case of a video letter. Even in the darkened room, she could make out the words Baby Sis.

Her hands shaking, she wrapped her fingers around the case as if the message might crumble into dust. With great veneration, she pulled the disk to her chest and pushed herself upright. Sitting in the dark, she stared at the case cupped in her hands.

Part of her yearned to run to her console and watch the video, but an equally strong part feared playing the message. She didn’t know if she could bear seeing his image so soon after learning of his death. Though her eyes felt dry and out of tears, she didn’t trust her emotions enough to tempt fate.

Watch it, the Voice said. He would want you to know that he cared, regardless of what happened to him.

Standing slowly, she moved as if in a dream toward the computer. Pulling out her chair, she sat down heavily and slid the disk into the slot on the side of the console. The screen flickered, first shining brilliant blue in the dark room before settling on an image. Play flashed in the upper left corner, as the image focused on a familiar Wyndgaart face.