Flashback! It Only Takes a Spark! [P | M]

[BASTION]

It Only Takes a Spark

It was dark. I remember how much I clung to the single thin, pale beam of light that pierced the iron bars, shining right down the center of the cell. Onto the dirty, bare floor. And I lied there silently, unmoving for the days I was there, only ever rising to eat my ration of the day. It was humiliating, but I was going to survive. I’d decided.

The cell smelled like sweat and mold and something else I didn’t even want to know. I ignored the bed on the far wall, was too stubborn to use what little they gave me. It wasn’t much softer than the concrete, anyways. Why things like pride still mattered to me, I couldn’t be certain. The time passed slowly, made more miserable by my wandering thoughts. I looked at it as a weakness, one that I couldn’t rid myself of. My crew, the people I actually cared about, my life, where I’d gone. How I’d ended up rotting in some concrete cell. All of it seemed so distant, like I couldn’t touch it, like it was over, but it remained close to me, infesting my thoughts and overtaking me. Even my dreams weren’t entirely free from my past. But I never gave the marines any indication of my deteriorating mental state, only stared blankly at the gray walls and bars in front of me.

My perception of time stretched and thinned until it was indiscernible. I didn’t care. However long a day outside took, however long the world waited for the sun to rise, only that single, pale beam ever gave me any warning. Only that single, pale beam reminded me of the outside. Of where I came from. Of who I was.

Of my humanity.

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[BASTION]

The monotony of the cell, the pointlessness of my existence stretched my mind thin. Everything, anything that changed seemed dramatic. Like it shifted my entire world whenever I tasted new foods or got to go outside for however brief the time was. Eventually I took to training in my cell, though the guards didn’t seem to like it. I didn’t care. My knuckles and feet were red and bloodied from my punching and kicking at the concrete. My muscles were sore from the strength training, but it fueled me like nothing I’d ever found before. Reinvigorated my resolve, my dreams, like the further I pushed my body, the further I was running from the tiredness of my imprisonment. Like I was free.

I’d learned to fight long before. While I was a slave, I wasn’t given the opportunity to train professionally. I just learned what I could from other slaves, with other slaves, and learned to fight for myself with nothing. With my fists, and my feet, and my determination. This was just like then.

So I removed my mind from my body, only trained and thought nothing of my past, present, or future. Thought nothing of where I was, or why I was, only that I was. It was my purpose. I couldn’t count how many times I’d broken a hand or a foot, or even an entire leg, one time, beating against the concrete. How many times I’d fallen to the ground, drained of all my strength but pushing for that last round or rep.

But my past caught up with me.

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[BASTION]

There was a commotion outside. My gray eyes darted to the side, to the only doorway, hidden in the obsidian that I’d drowned in for too long. Though my eyes had long ago adjusted to the black, I still couldn’t make out what went on beyond the door. So I listened, heard the rustling of weapons, startled voices and alarms. Then, all at once, the clash of steel and cries of men dying. The boom of cannons and gunfire. I rose, confused. Who the hell would attack a marine base? Pirates, of course, but even most pirates weren’t that stupid. This base was heavily fortified, I was sure, but the temptation of freedom sparked a hope that I would have otherwise frowned upon. Slipping away amidst the confusion, so long as I could pass these familiar iron bars. Nothing revealed itself before me for a long time, though, so I sat in silence and listened to the battle, to the music. To the only thing that reminded me I had a future.

There were voices down the hall, then. Too far for me to make out what they said, but close enough to know they were nearby. Unharmed, probably, and not fighting. Were they marines? Why were they here? I had too many questions, and I was too desperate, wanted to call out to the voices. But I didn’t. I just waited, my hands wrapped around two of the iron bars, wishing I could pry them apart. Each second felt like so much more as their steps grew louder and louder, closer and closer. They were walking, weren’t panicked. Haphazard but confident. It didn’t seem like marines, and I probably inched closer to the bars at the thought. Then I could make the voices out.

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[BASTION]

“You think he’s down here?” One voice asked, vaguely familiar. Like a ghost.

“This is the prison, isn’t it?” Another asked, just as familiar. Why did they both seem so distant, then?

“He’s got to be.” That voice! I knew it, but I couldn’t believe it. Instinctively I smiled, smiled for the first time in ages, but it went as soon as it came. My crew, my captain. They were risking their lives, and for what? For me?

“Damnit!” I snarled, banging a fist against the cold iron bar like I had so many times before. But this time was different. It meant something, was fueled by emotion and not purpose. Anger, anger at myself and at the marines and even at my crew. Why were they so stupid? I wasn’t worth that risk.

”God damnit, Bastion. There you are!” And there he was. Standing in the doorway was my freedom. My captain. He looked just like I’d left him, coarse, deep, red hair cut short. Even the hair lining his jaw, and the brown, gold-lined coat he wore over everything. Everything was as I left it. I felt like I was living in the past for a moment, like I was a slave again. Why was this happening again? I felt like I was looking up at him again with the sun shining like some sort of beacon behind him, like he brought hope.

And, I supposed, he really did.

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[BASTION]

The spark of hope I’d had had ignited, turned into an inferno, and despite my anger and confusion, I was happy. It felt selfish, but I was happy. Why did I want this so badly? The price of freedom was too high.

”Bastion, damn you. That stunt you pulled was crazy,” he said, pulling out keys from a pocket within his coat that he’d probably stolen off of a prison guard. A few moments of fumbling later, he finally found the correct key and unlocked the door. The iron bars swung open, and I took a deep breath. Still, I hadn’t said anything, just stared at them in disbelief and horror and anger and happiness.

“I--” I started.

“Don’t, just come on,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me roughly so that I’d fall in line as we made our way down the dark corridor that ran parallel to my cell room. And I just listened to him, just stayed quiet, because it was easier that way. Because even I didn’t know what to say, what I wanted to say, what I could say. Hell, I couldn’t even straighten out what I was feeling.

Then there were footsteps down the hallway, coming down the stairs directly in front of us, and all four of us burst into a run. Just as their feet met the bottom steps and they caught sight of our blurry forms, we ran into them like a train. They were down instantly, taken by surprise and we were out into the sunlight. The sunlight . . . was different. I’d been outside during my imprisonment, though not very often, but this time the sun was shining brighter. Was golden and yellow and glowing and warm and I wasn’t sure I could continue being mad at them for risking their lives for me. But freedom was far from mine. We were still deep within the base, and surviving was the hardest part.

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[BASTION]

We spread out just a bit, ready to take on the waves of marines as we pushed our way out. I couldn’t be sure what was happening to everyone, couldn’t look out for them, only had to hope and trust that they would hold their own as we weaved through clusters of hostile forces.

Three marines charged at me, armed with a sword each. They were underestimating me. Frowning, I bobbed in, using the first marine’s momentum against him, spinning around his sword strike and allowing him to stumble forward. Ignoring him as he fumbled to regain his balance, I ducked beneath the next attacker’s swipe, my leg flashing out and taking his from behind the ankle, sweeping him off his feet and debilitating him for the time being. The last to attack was the most unlucky. His vertical strike clanged against the concrete ground, and I was up, beside him, spinning around the attack, bringing myself close to him where he couldn’t use his sword easily. As I came out of my spin, I lashed out with my elbow, striking him square in the temple. He stumbled back in pain, but my opposite fist shot out, and I felt the bone of his nose shatter beneath the force of my punch, fracturing the base of the skull and knocking him to the floor. By this time, the other two marines had regrouped and were coming in at the same time from behind. A step to the left allowed the first’s sword strike to pass by harmlessly, and I ducked beneath the second attack, spinning to face him and stomping down on his toes as I did, most likely breaking every one of them. My rising fist met its mark, just beneath his chin, and I had already turned my attention to the last marine before he hit the ground completely unconscious. The last attempted to flee, but a quick strike from my right leg caught his side, folding him over and sending him spiraling to my left. He was the luckiest. I turned, running to catch up with the rest of my crew, leaving him gasping for breath with only a broken rib or two.

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[BASTION]

“Let’s go!” An ally yelled. We turned a corner as a group, plowing down a marine or two in the way. For a little while, I almost believed this would work out. That we would all get out of here safely, that we’d all be able to sail away.

Then there was a gunshot and a cry, and I was jarred back into reality. One of my crewmates fell, a bullet in the back of his neck. Before us stood an entire firing squad, and two more of us fell before we were able to skip around a corner and into cover.

“God damnit!”

“What the hell do we do?”

“Stop panicking,” said one. I looked to him, as if he had a plan, then to my captain.

“Split up, don’t get caught. I’ll take Bastion, he doesn’t know where the ship is,” said the captain, and I cursed to myself, but couldn’t deny the logic. Still, I just couldn’t fathom why we were going through all of this for me.

“There’s more of us still scattered around, right?” I asked, dreading the answer. There was a pause, and I felt sick.

“. . . Yes, but not a lot. They’ll meet us back at the ship, because they don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Shit,” I cursed, diverting my gaze from anything but the ground. This was too much. But I couldn’t think of it now, because if I faltered, all of this could be for nothing. And that would be even worse. I had to survive. “Fine, let’s go.”

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[BASTION]

We scattered. The captain and I moved into a nearby building, searching for a way to cross. A handful of marines found us, and the captain took out one or two while I finished up the remaining one with a quick assault. Charging forward, I ducked beneath his shaky gunshot and rammed into him with my shoulder, taking him to the ground. As we plummeted, I tucked my legs in beneath me and, in the moment we touched the ground, vaulted off of him, breaking more than a few of his ribs and probably his sternum, all without losing my forward momentum. We continued on, turning corners and breaking down doors until we found the exit. Outside, at least twelve soldiers awaited us, four of which were armed with flintlock rifles.

We bursted into action, and I made a hard right, making my way to the first of the four geared with firearms. His aim was shaky, nervous, and a swift kick disarmed him, before I was able to reach out and grab his face, then smash it against the ground. Now kneeling, I rose, lifting myself onto my hands and spinning once, taking out two marines with my acrobatics, before vaulting forward. As I landed, I noticed a flash of steel to my left. With urgency, I spun, moving and flowing, but it wasn’t enough. The blade caught my chest, but I’d moved back enough to be sure it wasn’t fatal. Deep red stained my clothes, and I grimaced in pain, but continued on, leaping back twice more to put space between myself and my enemies. I had to gather myself.

“Shit,” I cursed, pressing a hand to my chest to stop the blood. It wasn’t extremely deep, and for that I was thankful. But I was forced into action as two more marines came to me. Ducking and bobbing, I flowed between their swords, and managed to catch one with a swift punch at his throat, forcing him to stumble back and gasp for breath. At the same time, the hilt of the second marine’s sword caught my shoulder, spinning me and forcing me to stumble as well. Confident he caught me off guard, he advanced, but I fell into the momentum of my stumbling, arching backwards and onto my hands, vaulting into a backwards flip. As my legs came up into the flip, I lashed out, catching the marine by the chin and assuring his defeat.

Then there was a gunshot. One of the marine’s had finally gotten the courage to fire one of his very limited shots, and my eyes shot over to my captain. He appeared unharmed, and had already taken out more than a couple of marines. The few remaining fled or organized to protect the gunners. A quick set of kicks allowed me to catch one marine attempting to regroup, and I joined my captain nearby with heavy breaths.

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[BASTION]

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, arms up, fists curled, ready to fight.

“Because I don’t feel like dyin’,” he said, smirking cockily.

“God damnit, you know what I mean!” I said, anger and sadness and guilt in my voice.

“Hn.” His hand found my shoulder, and I only grew more irritated. “You’re one of us. Besides,” he said, throwing his sword forward and taking out a marine. “We owed you for saving our asses, anyways.”

“It was stupid,” I retorted, spinning out of the way of a naginata and delivering a swift airborne kick to the attacker’s head.

“Come on, if we hadn’t, we wouldn’t be having so much fun right now!”

I didn’t say anything, just continued the fight. But then there was another gunshot, and a shadow fell over me. The captain was there, standing in front of me, and for once the sun wasn’t shining so bright. It was blotted out, consumed and devoured, and all I could see was the falling form of my captain. There was blood at his chest, and I knew immediately there was no way the bullet had missed his lungs. His breaths came raspy, gasping for air that wouldn’t come, and I knew it was my fault. That single gunshot would have killed me, but he died instead. I tried to catch him, to slow his fall, but another gunshot rang out. This one pierced my shoulder, forcing me to stumble back and grunt in pain. My vision went red, everything was crimson and I wasn’t even sure what was going on. All I knew was anger. The rest of the marines had already fled from my captain, or were unconscious on the ground. So I dashed forward, taking out one of the remaining two marines with a swift punch, and found the last marine. The soldier that shot my captain.

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[BASTION]

He was on the ground, and I was over him, pounding his face in over and over and over until I couldn’t tell if the blood on my hands was mine or his. Until his face was unrecognizable. Until my anger finally became sorrow, and I couldn’t punch anymore.

“FUCK!” I shouted, smashing his face one last time before slowly rising. Suddenly I was weary, tired, almost wanted to just lie down in my cell. But I couldn’t. They’d come this far, all to rescue me, and now I was left. There was no way to be sure if anyone else had survived, not until I made it to the ship.

So I ran. Ran, and ran, and ran, until I finally saw that familiar vessel. Saw freedom. And I couldn’t recognize anyone there, couldn’t find anyone but marines and soldiers and faces I didn’t care about. Didn’t want to see. Faces that would try and stop me, try and take away the freedom everyone had died for. The freedom I needed.

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[BASTION]

Two more stood in my path, and two more were laid to rest beneath my heels. Nothing was going to stop me. But I was conflicted--how long should I wait before leaving? How many would get left behind? I couldn’t leave anyone behind that I could rescue. No, that wasn’t going to happen. I’d just have to figure it out when I got there. But the ship was my last chance at safety, and I knew if I didn’t make it there soon, reinforcements would arrive in numbers that would overwhelm even my entire crew standing together.

Cursing, I finally made it to the docks. A cannon rang out in the distance, and a moment later the boardwalk exploded in splinters and water and metal. The force knocked me off my feet, sending me hurtling forward and planting me square on my back. Breathing heavily and getting tired, I scrambled to my feet and pumped my legs as hard as I could. A hand stretched out from over the wall of the ship, and I heard a muffled cry, probably telling me to hurry or grab it. And I obliged, gripping at the hand with all my might and leaping up before being pulled over the edge.

I collapsed onto my back, chest rising and falling, heart racing like the drums of war, and I couldn’t even think straight.

“Bastion . . .” The voice belonged to the man who had helped me up. My ashen gaze flashed to him, thankful but too tired to voice it. “I . . . I’m the only one left except you and . . . the captain?”

At first, I didn’t answer. I averted my gaze, and just lied there. He knew the answer in my silence, and as I struggled to rise to my feet, he spoke again, turning to raise the sails.

“God damnit!”

All of the other preparations were already made. We rose the sails and set out immediately. I made sure to avoid him--he was just a memory, now. We both knew this was over. That everything was in the past, and that nothing could be brought back.

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