.:All the Truth I Could Tell:. [Izars/Rebels]

We have all the right materials.

There’s the fertilizer pellets, the bits of charcoal, the lye, saltpeter, and a special brew of moonshine that will set a flame like you never did see. I like to call it rottingflame, on account of how burning it tinges of fresh shit and sulfur fill the air. It’s a recipe I had made once before, but I was weak. Nekane had reached out her hand and laid bare my lack of strength in my youth. Like any child, I was afraid. I never believed in my own power, not since the day I lost my brother to a meaningless game. I spent years crying over his death, and years more sulking in the shadows. Nekane smoothed over the fear that creases in paper; she fizzled out the flame, but couldn’t kill it.

Swallowed up by that fear, I turned away from lines of attack or destruction. Members of our clan were snatched away and still, I held back. No one wanted to hear what I had to say and worse still, I wanted others to believe that I had something worthwhile to say. I wanted to be a part of world that never really wanted me. That was my mistake, to scorn them but still long for their approval. The people in this district didn’t want anything other than what they’d always got. They lapped up the victors that came (and went) so that they could taste victory for themselves. But illusions fade and hunger doesn’t. We’re back to where we were just a few years ago, except worse.

Rum Tum taught me to find beauty for myself.

Well—I found it, in the eyes of all those faceless sheep out there. When I got up on that soapbox and saw them nod their heads along, and for the briefest of moments they thought about how it could be true. It only took one man to pull down the columns and break tables to start something that couldn’t turn back. I don’t need them to love me any more than I need them to follow me, if only a little while. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I want to be the one that brings out what should be done. Not now—not after seeing that these fools were happy enough to elect someone that kept business as usual. They couldn’t even go for someone that would’ve brought the littlest bit of change (but Jimmy had made peace, hadn’t he?). They wanted to bask with their victor, and keep those chains. There was something comforting in the devil you knew.

Except I’ve tasted what’s outside of these walls. I’ve seen those mountaintops, the lakes, the rivers and streams. I’ve known that there’s some lies that can’t hold us down forever. They want to keep us locked away forever, but there’s some of us that are willing to take real risks. I won’t be around for what happens in the after, not if things go as I imagine. So I ain’t going to worry about what needs planning, or who needs saving. All the little mends that they want to do to make change happen won’t be coming from my lips. No, I’m going to wake them up, with the only way that will work. It’s when they feel the same real pain, when they have fear, and terror, when this whole little world they’ve built starts burning down. Because without their little illusions, they ain’t going to have nothing left.

And that’s when it starts—not when the world is at its worst—but in the moments right after, when they seem like it could get better.

It’s just after dusk when I take the lantern out to the shed on the edge of our field. I put a kettle on the burner next to the table, and start to arrange some mason jars along the ground. I sent word out through Alfer and some letters to gather folk. I don’t rightly know (or care) how they feel about our bold new leader, but I know there’s a few that have to be chafing at someone that’s so close to the capitol being in our ranks. And if it wasn’t really one of us, a true believer, what’s that say about next steps? We’ll be back to where we started, meeting in secret and dreaming about what can be done.

No—

More—

Bullshit—

I dig my dirty hands into a bag of fertilizer pellets and start to fill up a jar. When there’s a knock at the door, I pause.

“Izar, friend, or neither?”