A6: The Bird

Chapter One
Chapter Two

Chapter Three:

The brilliant sun stung her eyes as she looked up into direction of the sound. For several days A6 heard a cry come from the sky. It wasn't a cry of pain or sadness, yet it pierced her to the core. She never found the source. Today she ignored her stinging eyes and searched the sky again. Because the land was bare and covered with ice, it was difficult to tell where the land ended and the sky began. A6 found a small brown speck, there on the eastern horizon.

Could that small speck be the source of the sound?

The cry came again. The speck grew. A6 dropped her ice pick and held her gloved hands over her eyes so she would not loose sight of it. As it grew closer she could see the outline of a creature with two large wings.

"It's a bird," she gasped. She fell to her knees. She could see the sun even as she closed her eyes. The little sun behind her eyes spun around in her mind and she heard a voice. It was her own voice.

"Come here Milla. Come. I have sweet fruit for you." I couldn't reach the table where the cage sat. I wanted the beautiful bird to come to me so I could see the shining feathers in the sun. The colors changed from emerald to sapphire. I was in a garden. There was color. I remember color. I remember Milla, the bird.

The lovely image vanished abruptly when she received a swift kick in the side.

"You there! What are you doing? Pick up your ax and get to work! Kaufa wants this piece of the field completely searched by sun down." The guard pulled up his collar and shook his whip threateningly at A6. Mercifully, the guards were usually too tired, cold, and lazy to put the whip to use.

Slowly A6 got to her feet. She picked up her ice pick and began the rhythm of swinging and crushing. Kaufa, the chief of the Aurian tribe, was led to this barren land by a legend.

Grandmothers have told generations of children the story of a mighty spirit trapped in the ice in the north. Once released, the spirit would give great power to the one who released it. So the unfortunate inhabitants of Kaufa's conquests were brought to the north. They are forced to dig all day and to spend their nights in solitude. Their only hope of freedom is to find the great spirit, trapped somewhere here in the ice.

A6 could not remember the first day she stood on this vast field of ice. It seemed like she was always here. Always cold. Always alone.

And yet,
today the bird reminded her that there was another place and time.

The bird. Where did it come from?

She had never seen any other creature here on the ice. There was nothing here but ice, cruel guards, and dejected slaves. While she worked A6 tried to recall the bitter-sweet image to her mind.

The table.

Swing of her pick.

The smell of something sweet.

Crash against the ice.

The feel of warmth on her cheek.

Swing of her pick.

The sound; the coo of the bird. She could see the edge of the table. She could see the glint of gold from the cage. If she stood on her toes, maybe she could see a little more. If she reached out her neck just a little further, maybe...

Crash against the ice. Nothing, meaningless ice.

Something fell from her face. It was wet and warm. Where it touched the ice a small puddle formed and in the distance there was a cry.