Mobile Suit Remix : Bellerophon

Night was when I came alive.

I was always an insomniac, even as a child. You might say I was almost vampiric in my manner, the way I would sleep the day away and wander around the Herschen Manor corridors at night. However, instead of looking for blood, like in those old Dracula tales my dad would tell my little brother and I, I was simply looking for a way to raid my master’s kitchen without getting caught. Not that he cared, anyway–my master was a kind man, and would often take me himself to the dining quarters and let me eat as I liked. Good food was a luxury my family could not afford, which is why my father was indentured to him in the first place.

My master treated my little brother and I like welcome guests, while my father, if he knew how well fed our stomachs were, would have been furious. I was rebellious, and could not have cared less for what he said. But no matter how kind my master was, he was still my master, and the brother to Caesar. I knew my boundaries.

I would have gotten away with my kitchen stealing that night as easily as I had a million nights before, if it had not been for a sudden flash that illuminated the hallways and corridors from the windows in the ceiling. I had a plate full of goodies to share with Jarmanus, but when a thunderous roar followed quickly after a blinding light, my plate dropped to the floor with an echoing crash.

The Manor became alive with the sound of alarmed shouts and soldiers. I hid myself and watched as the master’s guards loaded their gunspears and listened obediently to the orders of their captain. I could not understand what they were saying; I knew very little German.

“Josephus.”

Ground shook and rumbled beneath my feet as I looked up fearfully into the eyes of my master. In my childhood naivety, the only thing I feared was his anger over a broken plate. Instead, he nodded at me calmly and gestured for me to follow him. “Come quickly.”

Dumbfounded by the explosions and the smell of smoke, I could only do as he told me. I followed him through the mighty hallways, decorated in royal purple and gold, into his own private living quarters. I had never dared to explore that part of his palace. His family surely would not have been pleased with a dirty little slave boy.

I was not moving fast enough for my master; he grabbed my hand and jerked me forward, forcing me to keep his pace. “Listen carefully.” His voice was deep, firm, and was meant to be obeyed. My eyes darted back and forth from his dark face to the archways, where I could see men fighting one another in a losing battle. “Don’t look outside, listen to me. Josephus!”

It took a pat to the face for me to focus on him again. “I need you to do something for me, little Josephus. Do you remember the passages below us that lead out towards the river?”

The hidden passages he spoke of were not secrets to me. I had explored every nook and cranny of his land, and knew it well. I nodded nervously.

“Good. Keep following me.”

I was starting to get scared, but I swallowed down the lump in my throat, determined not to cry in front of him as he lead me farther into his personal quarters. He burst through his bedroom doors, startling a group of women.

“Cyndia, my dear.” Helene’s manner was hasty. “Quickly, the children.”

I laid eyes upon my master’s eldest daughter for the first time. She could not be more than a year younger than I. She had blonde hair and glassy green eyes that were near overflowing with tears. In her arms she held a little bundle, Helene’s youngest offspring of barely two months. Standing beside her were two others of his bloodline–his son of three years, and his other daughter of two.

“Josephus.” Helene, after quieting his wife, turned to me once again. "I need you to take my children out of the palace and into the fields. Keep your heads low and do not be seen. If you keep moving to the West of here, you should come across one of the towns that are under my jurisdiction. That is the rendezvous point for the remainder of my guards, they will meet you there and take care of you. Are you listening?”

“Yes, sir.” I answered dumbly.

“Good. Listen still, carefully. And you, Isabelle.”

“Vati,” She was outwardly crying now, cradling her infant sister in her arms.

“You know your brother, Alberic, is the heir to my brother’s throne.” I glanced at him shortly. He was crying wildly and clinging to his mother. “They have come here to take him, but you must not let them, either of you.” His hands found both of our shoulders. “Promise me you will guard him with your lives.”

“Yes, Vati.” She bit her lip and hugged him desperately one last time around

his neck.

"Yes, Master." I said dumbfoundedly.

“Good girl.” He pushed her away. “Now, run. Run!"

Stumbling through the corridors, nearly blind and deaf from the light and sounds around them, I led Isabelle and her younger siblings down into the wine cellar, hiding when soldiers ran past them. All of the Helene children were crying loudly. Through a secret passageway I forced them to go, we finally came out the other side, into the wheat fields. Like my master had instructed me, we crawled and kept our heads low, keeping still when helicopters flew over head, flashing their searchlight beams as if they were expecting us to run.

I would not find out until much later what had happened to Isabelle's father. Executed; and in bed with his wife.