Chapter 2: The Sleeping War God
1028 Words
"Vitals dropping again."
“Raise the morphine. And seal the damn window before frostbite sets in."
Ashton Drake heard none of it.
In the space between breath and oblivion, he floated. Soundless. Weightless.
Then—music.
Not the tin echo of battlefield radios or the pomp of victory parades. This was something raw. Fragile. A woman's voice, low and haunting. The melody slipped beneath his skin, curled around his failing nerves.
*I see you in the ash and snow...*
He stirred.
The monitors beeped louder.
“Lieutenant!" someone called. “There's movement!"
The song faded, but something had changed. Ashton's fingers twitched. His lips parted.
By dawn, he was breathing on his own.
---
“Say it again," he rasped, throat raw, lungs aching.
His physician looked stunned. “You're... awake, General. Against every prognosis. We feared paralysis—"
“Who sang?"
“Pardon?"
“The woman who sang to me."
The doctor blinked. “There's no record of music. You've been sedated—"
“I heard her. She was here."
A nurse hesitated at the edge of the room. “There was... a lullaby," she murmured. “Once. The night shift reported strange interference. Thought it was a glitch in the audio monitor."
Ashton's jaw clenched. “Get me Lia."
---
Lia stood by his bedside within the hour. Silk blouse, tailored coat, hair immaculately pinned. She smiled, eyes shimmering.
“I came as soon as I heard," she said, voice delicate. “You don't know how afraid I was."
Ashton studied her face. “It was you, wasn't it? The song."
Lia blinked. “Song?"
“You sang to me."
She hesitated. Then recovered. “Yes. I—I wasn't sure you'd remember. I didn't want anyone to know. It was just for you."
Ashton exhaled, closing his eyes. “It brought me back."
Behind her, his lieutenant stiffened, gaze flicking away.
“Thank you," Ashton said softly. “For everything."
But something in him recoiled. The tone was too smooth. Too rehearsed. Lia had never sung in the time they'd been together.
She reached for his hand. “I thought I lost you."
He let her hold it. “You didn't."
Not yet.
---
A week later, Ashton sat in his wheelchair beneath a pine-shaded veranda, watching snow fall.
“General," said Captain Ward. “Command wants a statement for the victory rally. They say the people need to see you."
“I didn't win the war. My men did."
“They say your recovery is a miracle."
“It wasn't." Ashton turned to him. “Do you believe in ghosts, Captain?"
Ward blinked. “No, sir."
“I do now."
The captain hesitated. “Should I cancel the parade?"
“Tell them I'll attend. But no speeches."
“Yes, General."
“Also," Ashton added, “search the personnel logs. I want the name of every nurse, assistant, or technician on duty the night I woke up."
Ward frowned. “Looking for someone, sir?"
Ashton didn't answer.
---
Later that evening, Lia entered the ward alone.
“You're quieter than usual," she said, drawing her coat closer.
Ashton's eyes didn't leave the snow. “I had a dream. Of a voice."
Lia smiled. “It was me. I told you—"
“No. This one didn't lie."
A beat of silence.
She smoothed her gloves. “I understand trauma makes you question things. But I'm here, Ashton. I stayed."
“You did," he murmured. “Even when I asked nothing of you."
She moved closer. “Because I love you."
He finally turned to face her. “Then tell me. What song did you sing that night?"
Her lips parted. “I—don't remember the words."
He held her gaze. “Neither do I. But I remember how it made me feel. And it wasn't you."
Something flickered in her eyes. A crack, quickly masked.
“That's not fair."
“No," he agreed. “It's not."
---
Ashton remained silent on the return trip to the capital. The convoy moved slowly through the frost-covered countryside. Inside the armored carriage, he stared at the ceiling.
His lieutenant cleared his throat. “General. With respect, you're chasing a phantom."
“I don't chase," Ashton replied. “I hunt."
“It could've been a hallucination."
“It wasn't."
“Then maybe it was a staffer. A mistake. Why does it matter?"
Ashton turned to him. “Because she saved me."
The lieutenant shifted uncomfortably. “Lia said it was her—"
“It wasn't," Ashton said coldly. “And you know it."
The man's silence was answer enough.
---
Back in the capital, Ashton attended the rally, silent beneath banners bearing his name. He scanned every face in the palace choir. None of the voices matched the one in his memory.
At the banquet afterward, Lia stood beside him, soaking in the applause. Her hand slipped into his. He let it.
But his gaze remained distant.
A stable girl passed carrying goblets. She hummed, no more than a breath. His heart jolted.
“That tune," he said, grabbing her wrist. “Where did you hear it?"
The girl's eyes widened. “I—I don't know. It just comes to me."
“Who taught you?"
“No one, sir. I've always known it."
He released her. “What's your name?"
She fled without answering.
Ashton stood frozen, chest tight.
Not Lia. Not a dream.
Real.
She was real.
---
Elsewhere, in a crowded medical tent near the southern border, Erin unpacked crates labeled "Emergency Vaccine Kits." Inside: precursor chemicals, hidden neatly beneath cooling packs.
A field nurse walked by. “We're lucky to have you, Reena. The children stabilized faster than ever."
“I'm just doing my duty."
“And rumor says General Drake is coming south for inspection. Maybe we'll finally see the War God ourselves."
Erin's hand paused over a vial.
“Is that so?"
“Yes. I'd faint if he walked into this tent."
“Don't." Erin smiled faintly. “He hates theatrics."
---
Outside, thunder rolled in the distance.
Neither knew it yet, but the collision course had begun.
- Writer
