"What do you see when you look outside?" That's what they ask us whenever we are tested. They want to know who has the 'vision.' You know, the special ability to see what's unseen.

To be honest, all I see is a house outside. I see streetlamps, and a sky so blue that it seems like birds are swimming upside down in a vast ocean. I see the land, littered with small red petals which contrast the green blades poking from the ground. I see a place to build more homes, to accompany the one house. A place to heal from wounds, to walk with nature, and sing some tunes.

But that's not what I am told to see. To have the 'vision' I have to see places to take cover; to plant a bomb, not a flower. I have to see areas where arrows are bound to fly by, and where fires would strengthen our numbers, not decrease them. I have to see ways to end life. But I don't see any of this.

Thus, they say I cannot fight. I have no 'vision.' I am useless.

Though every time my eyes close in preparation for the next sun, I hear him. The giant: my creator. He tells me I do have the 'vision.' That what is bound to happen can be stopped if I convince my people. Yet as they gather to assemble whoever is left with the 'vision,' I get pushed aside, with my face eating the dirt and mud.

There is no stopping their plan to take over 'the bedroom.'

Their army consists of the strongest visionaries this house as ever seen,

their swords and arrows are unmatched,

and their plan for war is almost ready...

Oh creator, tell me what to do...

All together we unite

we fight for what is right

Our community as a whole

has one common goal:

Defeat the enemy, stand tall

stand against us, you'll surely fall

Grab your pitchforks and your spears-

when the enemy comes, we'll be waiting here

They won't catch us by surprise

If need be, we'll camp out until sunrise

They might run up on as at night

assuming we won't be ready to fight

But they will come to the conclusion fast

that our army is just too vast

Kiss your mother, kiss your brother

in the chance you fall they will suffer

Leave your emotions back at home-

this is war, and war alone

No room for worries or fears

the enemy is near

Grab your pitchforks and your spears-

when the enemy comes, we'll be waiting here

We will slaughter them all together

no matter warm or cold weather

Their army will fall as a whole

ours standing tall until we reach our goal

Spears flying

People dying

Pitchforks piercing on their skin

Blood curdling sounds of our enemy screaming; we won't stop until we win

We will crush them like an ant

as they fall, united we will chant:

Defeat the enemy, stand tall

stand against us, you'll surely fall

The Sociale should have known better. The people were not weak. They were never weak. Fear had made them passive. Rage is stronger than fear. Adres was a figure of hope, a glimmer of optimism piercing through the haze of Chancellor Elhossa's reign. The Darkened Forces left his body beaten and broken in the village square, a message meant for the revolution bubbling over in the hidden rooms of the the tired and disloyal.

Kavindra cast a hazy eye through the common room of the inn. Citizens from every district sat murmuring prayers and poems. Every arrow, spear, dagger, and sword was dipped in the poisonous juices of the Tolsi berry, guarded closely by the budding soldiers destined to wield them. There was no going back. At least not for everyone.

The eyes of the determined and fearful looked to Kavindra. She was the closest thing Andres had to a second in command, let alone a friend or sister. Andres was passion, Kavindra was power. Was power alone enough to lead these people behind the palace gates? To command them to end their lives for those who had died so many moons before? Their people. Her people. They'd spent months training in secret, pushing through the bitter winter into the fickle spring. She taught them all she knew, everything she'd learned as a refugee in the Wicked Wood. Her chest rose and sunk deeply. She knew her efforts were not enough to fix the fragments of two generations.

Kavindra broke from her thoughts, swigged the last bit of Andesian wine into her tightening throat and rose to her feet. Errol was nowhere to be found. So be it. He would have to catch up later.