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Hi everybody :)
There is lot of Veril language in this one. I put the list of German and Veril words in my profile for everybody who wants to refresh their memory and brush up on their vocabulary.
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TW for blood and violence
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CHAPTER 11
An escort, he had said, nobody had talked about an entire platoon! I was fidgeting and looking out of the window as we drove towards the exit on the muddy road. The enchanted hedges around Volkspark Friedrichshain parted for our convoy, revealing the checkpoint and the gray buildings that lay behind them.
As soon as we had left the park, the military vehicles fell into formation around us, framing the car I was in. I estimated that, in total, the General had sent around twenty of his soldiers to accompany me on my shopping trip. I was concentrating hard on and keeping my heartbeat steady, breathing in and out deeply, but surely the three warriors in the car with me--two in front and one to my side, leaving the middle seat unoccupied so as not to contaminate me with his scent--were completely aware of how nervous I was, and I really hoped that they wouldn't guess that reason.
All around us human cars, returning from work in the afternoon traffic, were quick to make space, driving to the sides of the road, some of them even onto the sidewalk, disregarding all rules in the urge to get out of the Veril's way as quick as possible.
While we were causing complete chaos outside, the interior of our vehicle was silent, the only sound coming from the low and strange whirring of the engine and my beating heart.
I forced myself to keep my fingers still and stop fidgeting, but I saw my chances of escape dwindling with each glance that I stole at the grim guard to my right, who was not letting me out of his sight for one second, holding his assault rifle in front of his chest, thankfully pointing it to the ground and away from me. I couldn't see his eyes through his dark-tinted goggles, but felt him watching my every movement.
Like all members of our
shopping excursion
, including myself, the guard was wearing a daylight uniform, cut wide and made out of a black fabric that felt cool and light on my skin and reminded me a bit of the blanket I had been wearing as a dress. The headpiece resembled a loose-fitting scarf wrapped around the head and face, leaving only a slit for the eyes, which were, for their part, covered with a type of tinted military safety goggles. It was evident that the attire had been devised above all to protect the Veril's sensitive skin from the
cursed sun
as the General called it.
Even I was wearing the leather chest and shoulder plates for protection today, and I was once again grateful for my breasts' humble size that fit comfortably under gear that had clearly been designed with a masculine body in mind.
I thought that we looked like we were on an expedition through the desert and expecting some major sandstorms. I giggled a bit--a sound that made my guard shuffle in his seat.
"Where are we going?" I asked before he could get more agitated or think too much about why I was so nervous.
He looked at me, unmoved, a dark ghost under his uniform. He probably didn't even speak English.
"Where is Officer Kinich?" I tried another topic of conversation.
He just kept fixating me with no reaction while we turned onto a smaller road, forcing the escorting vehicle that had been next to my window to fall behind us.
"Kinich Vol?" I repeated with my very best Veril pronunciation, frustrated that I didn't even know simple interrogative pronouns like
where
.
This time, I was more successful. When he heard the soldier's name, he shook his head.
"Vrunkil Kinich Vol leksh',"
he said, and my stomach clenched as his tone told me all I needed to know.
I turned away and looked out of the window, massaging my sweaty palms, and despite my anxiety, I couldn't help but feel my heart jump at the sight of the city bathed in light. I took my goggles off, ignoring the slight hiss of disapproval to my right. With everything that had been going on, I hadn't even realized how much my body and soul had been craving the sun.
I took in the scenery, trying to center myself in the moment and calm my treacherous pulse. No city in the world is more beautiful than Berlin in the summer! The capital had an almost tropical feel to it, with the humidity of the thunderstorm already evaporating from the streets and saturating the heated air. Everything was lush and flourishing; plants were growing everywhere, even between the smallest cracks in the pavement. A desperate abundance of life, as if the flowers knew that the warm days were counted and would soon again turn into a short fall and then a long and gray winter.
And where would
I
be by then? I felt nausea rising up my throat and tried not to think about it as I looked out at the vibrant colors. The residents of the adjacent houses had planted tomatoes and wild flowers in the little patches of earth surrounding the trees framing the road. Many of those improvised gardens were decorated lovingly with toy windmills, little figurines, and hand-painted signs. A display of human love and playfulness.
This is the side of us that he doesn't see,