Bone Memory

The white outer walls of Her Majesty’s castle were blackened, cracked, and broken in some places, concurrent with the smells of gun powder and other explosive substances still thick in the air. Until repairs were made, the summer castle, also known as the "Ivory Residence," would have to be called by another name. The Queen's Royal Guard had not been warned by their intelligence of tonight’s attack on the palace, which had taken advantage of the festival devoted to the annual meteor shower. No one had been on their guard. As Tesa, Captain of the third Royal Guard troop, made her rounds of the castle to assess the damage, she saw some servants and soldiers still slung ungracefully on the ground and over tables. Evidence suggested that they had slept through the battle. Based on her inspection of the grounds, Tesa could only blame this behavior on drugged food supplies bought for the celebration.

In the end, their attackers had been unsuccessful, but the majority of them had also gotten away. Their retreat had probably been prompted by the escape of the Queen and her family through the hidden tunnels buried beneath the castle. Royal Guard troops had been thin around the walls and in the lower levels of the castle, resulting in greater losses that could have been avoided with more planning and more men. Tesa had given first priority to the royal family and been unable to send down reinforcements. While the Royal Guard had been victorious, it could learn much from the outcome of this battle. As a leader of one of the two squads stationed at the castle, Tesa would bear many of the regrets.

One of the castle's medical personnel squatted behind a bush next to an injured soldier. In the light cast by the orb above, Tesa identified the injured man as one of her officers by his torn blue livery. She detoured toward to the scene immediately. Her interest in this situation was primarily personal since his health status and rank had already been added to the tally by the healer. Something seemed unusual about the situation. Was the healer holding the patient’s hand lest he die alone?

The walls behind them were fairly intact, indicating her officer had been taken out either by magical projectile or close-range metal weapon. He was still conscious with his eyes open but unfocused. Tesa made a quick, experienced evaluation of his injuries before turning to the healer, who rose to give his own diagnosis.

"I can’t do much for him," the healer brushed the side of his medical kit absently with one hand, "Go ahead and see him."

Tesa dropped to her knees in front of First Lieutenant Rays Manson, a trusted officer whose loss would be felt by the troop both personally and professionally. In coming from a low-class background, Manson had treasured being accepted into the Queen’s Guard. Manson found success in the Royal Guard because of his strong discipline, high quality of work, and fierce loyalty to the Royal Guard. Positions in the Royal Guard were paid more and considered more prestigious than posts in the Imperial Military because of their fewer numbers and direct responsibilities for the royal family, government officials, and state grounds.

Her movements drew Manson’s attention and he recognized her immediately for who she was despite the condition that his body was in. Tesa focused on his face, avoiding staring at his wounds. She inwardly cursed the Royal Guard’s poor intelligence and lack of preparation, both of which were primarily at fault for tonight’s tragedies. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have to regret the loss of a respected officer and personal friend. Tesa was directly responsible for her troop and had a hand in directing intelligence for the Royal Guard. Tonight’s mistakes and losses also reflected on her professionally.

Manson remained coherent enough to recall their highest priorities, "Captain, how are the Queen and her family? Do we have any of the attackers in custody for questioning?"

Tesa grimaced at the still-too-few resources the Royal Guard had to gather information about the opposition. While she refused to lie about the truth, this was the last news she wanted to impart to a dying comrade, "The royal family managed to escape to safety. Our attackers were nearly as successful. We only managed to capture a few."

"These enemies are clever and well-funded, Captain," Rays voiced a suspicion that most of the ranking officers shared as a final warning, "I’m sorry I won’t be here to aid the Royal Guard in the fight to come."

"Your efforts will never be forgotten by the squad," Tesa promised him, attempting to convey that his loss would be felt profoundly. Realizing that the healer hadn’t seen to the spiritual needs of the patient, Tesa asked, "Would you like me to fetch a priest?"

A few hours ago, the clergy present had been dressed to perform a short service for the Meteor Festival in honor of the gods and spiritual principles historically associated with the event. The priests would find it disconcerting to perform death rites only a few hours after the festival. While she knew that Manson was not particularly religious, she asked this question only to oblige the requirements of her position as Captain of a squad. However, Manson was well-versed enough in Meteor Festival mythology to make references, "No, please don’t…Captain, unfortunately I will seem to forget the squad. I can’t help it. But my bones will remember…"

Just before dawn, Tesa finally took the time to examine the sky for any final meteors. Superstitions and myths about the Meteor Festival were perpetuated by natural magical phenomena that opened brief windows on to what appeared to be other worlds. This hypothesis could never be confirmed because the windows' contents could only be observed and interaction was impossible. Manson had based his promise on the idea that people who died on this night would be re-born in those other worlds.

Tiredly, Tesa spotted two meteors streak the atmosphere, Perhaps Rays Manson's soul is riding a meteor on his journey into the beyond.



The name Roundtree decorated grave stones in military cemeteries and existed on current military employee lists. After graduation, Jones Roundtree complied with the law and added his name to the national register that, if the draft were reinstated, would be used by the U.S. military. His childhood friends and family marveled at his choice not to join the armed forces of his own volition. He instead opted to go to university and graduate to lead a civilian lifestyle. Jones had grown up in a family with a long history of military employment; with his exaggerated conscience, Jones felt like the first son in generations to break family tradition.

"It's a legitimate choice," Jones' first cousin and close friend, Andy, was at his house for his graduation. Andy was remaining with his family for the duration of the summer and shared Jones' room. Sitting with his chair beneath him backward, Andy examined the college acceptance letter and high school yearbook sitting in Jones' lap. "What was your main reason for not choosing the typical Roundtree path?"

"I'm attached to this state," Jones had chosen to settle in Oregon after enduring eighteen years of the frequent moves that typified the lives of some military families. Jones wanted to spend his life always in the same place--ideally, this would enable him to get to know his neighbors and avoid the hassles of moving. "Besides, do I look like I could survive officer training?"

"Everyone in the family does know you as the 'potato with a brain,'" Andy acidly humored Jones' final excuse just as it had been put forth comically. As a child, Jones had been infamous at family reunions for spending his time reading and watching educational television shows while the other young children boisterously played outside.

I also want to be able to accumulate stuff, Jones was an avid collector but had abided by his parents' recommendation to keep any collection small (and woefully incomplete) in preparation for when they were re-stationed. Jones looked up from his high school memorabilia to his various comic book figurines scattered across his shelves. The figurines were interspersed with clay pots and vases that Jones had thrown and glazed himself.

Faintly, Jones and Andy could hear the doorbell ring downstairs. His mother then yelled that his two expected friends had arrived, and Andy and Jones hastily exited his room. The four of them had planned to see the recently released thriller High Stakes Derby and to stuff their faces full of sweets at a local café and bakery near the cinema afterward. Andy, pretending to be their chaperon, had earned Jones' glare by remarking, "Sadly, we are limited to these kinds of activities late at night. Short of an underage disco, the four of us are too young to go clubbing in the United States."

After the movie, the four men waited at a crosswalk for the light to change. Jones distracted himself by absently scanning his surroundings, enjoying the fair summer night weather. While staring down a street behind him completely free of cars, Jones saluted the empty air. With his hand back by his side the next moment, Jones was more alert, dumbfounded by his own action. The light left him little time to contemplate that brief instant as Andy grabbed Jones by the elbow off the sidewalk and toward the car.

Major Tesa of the Queen's Royal Guard was invisible to the young men and all other inhabitants of the world visible through this dimensional "window." She and her troop were currently standing on guard outside at a trade meeting between their monarch, her representatives, and their reluctant allies. The men and women she commanded watched the blurry nocturnal view obscuring the gardens ahead of them in fascination. Traffic regulation signals and tall street lamps twinkled back at them under the illumination of foreign stars. Tesa grew irritated at the distraction, I guess I will let them have a few more seconds.

Some years had elapsed since the ambush on a previous Meteor Festival. When she was just a young woman enrolling in the Royal Guard, Tesa had planned to be at a higher rank by the time her hair was starting to gray. As she had predicted, the event had affected her career in multiple ways, including hindering her progression through the ranks. The ambush had also affected her attitude toward the Meteor Festival. Most individuals viewed the festival as a time of revelry or approached it with a sense of awe. While she was showing signs of aging, Tesa was extra vigilant when most of the other soldiers were lax in their discipline.

She focused on the scene long enough to witness one of the young men looking uncomprehendingly in their direction salute. It was as if he was one of the squad under Tesa's command. The squad stirred, startled, as everyone knew that interaction with the inhabitants of these "other worlds" never occurred. Tesa mentally echoed the unanimous question, Can he see us?

He gave no other sign of being able to perceive the squad. The young man appeared to be equally confused by his action and looked to his limp hand for answers. As the commanding officer, Tesa felt obliged to return the salute even as the man ran off into the distance and the window on to his world faded. She briefly entertained the idea that this young man's very bones contained the memories of late First Lieutenant Manson. Ever trustworthy, Manson would have fulfilled his last promise after his death.