Reincarnated with the Country System-Chapter 172: Post-war situation (2)

The sun was low in the sky, casting a pale, sickly light over the refugee camp.

The air was thick with the smell of smoke, sweat, and decay.

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Tents and huts stretched to the horizon, a sea of despair and hopelessness. Among the countless faces of the camp were two siblings—Ili and Mira—and their sick mother, Lina.

They had arrived in Fam a few weeks earlier after their village had been attacked by Orcs, where many people had died, but they had been lucky enough to survive. But their father had died there. While trying to save them.

Eli, at sixteen, was the eldest. He had grown up very quickly, his boyish face hardened with responsibility. He was now the eldest son of the family, and all the responsibilities fell on him in the absence of his father. This was another aspect of human life. What made a sixteen-year-old boy an adult. Age is just a number that grows with time, but what makes us mature and wise is our responsibility. The more responsibility one has in this society, the more adult one is. Eli has become one of them.

Mira, his sister, is only twelve. Her once bright eyes are now shadowed by fear and hunger.

Their mother, Lina, had fallen ill soon after arriving at the camp. Her cough had started as a minor annoyance but had quickly worsened, leaving her weak and bedridden. Eli and Mira did their best to care for her, but their efforts were hampered by the lack of food, medicine, and clean water.

The family's tent was a patchwork of torn cloth and salvaged wood. It offered little protection from the elements, but it was their only shelter. Inside, Lina lay on a thin mat, her breathing laboured. Eli knelt beside her, holding a wet cloth to her forehead. Mira sat nearby, her hands wrapped around her knees.

"How's Mom?" Mira whispered.

Eli shook his head, his expression serious. "She's not getting better. We need medicine, but…" He couldn't finish the sentence. Medicine was a luxury they couldn't afford. The camp's infirmary was overcrowded and short on supplies, and the few healers working there were overworked.

Tears welled up in Mira's eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She had learned to hide her emotions, to stay strong for her brother and mother. "What about food?" she asked. "Have you had any today?"

Eli sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out a small piece of bread. It was stale and hard, but it was all he could muster. "Here," he said, handing it to Mira. "You eat."

Mira shook her head. "No, you don't. You need your strength."

Eli hesitated, then broke the bread in two and handed Mira a piece. "We'll share," he said firmly. "And I'll leave the other half for Mom."

They ate in silence, savouring every morsel. The bread did little to fill their empty stomachs, but it was better than nothing. When they were finished, Eli turned to her mother, gently shaking her shoulder. "Mom," she said softly. "Wake up. You need to eat."

Lina stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She looked at Eli and Mira, her expression a mixture of love and sorrow. "My children," she whispered, her voice rough. "Don't waste food on me. You need it more."

"Don't say that," Eli said, her voice cracking. "You need to get better. We need you."

Lina reached out and touched her cheek, her hand shaking. "You are so strong, Eli. You have always been strong. Promise me… promise me that you will take care of Mira."

Eli's throat tightened, and he shook his head. "I promise."

Mira leaned forward and squeezed her mother's hand. "You'll be fine, Mom. You have to be fine."

Lina smiled weakly, but her eyes were filled with sadness. She knew the truth, even though her children refused to accept it. The camp was no place for the sick. Without medicine or proper care, there was little chance of her recovering. But she couldn't say it out loud. Instead, she focused on her children, drawing strength from their presence.

Then Mira tries to make her Mom happy. So she reminds her of some past memories, so that their sadness may go away a little. "Do you remember the harvest festival in our village? The one where Dad played the violin, and everyone danced?"

Lina's eyes softened at the memory. "Yes," she whispered. "I remember."

"Dad was very good at playing the violin. He made everyone laugh and smile. And you, Mom, you danced with him. You were so beautiful, like a queen."

Lina closed her eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips. "It was a good day," she said softly. "A very good day."

Eli looked at his mother and sister, his heart aching. He wanted to give them more—more food, more comfort, more hope. But the camp could offer little, and the future was uncertain.

However, Eli made a silent promise. He would do whatever was necessary to protect his sister and care for her mother. He would find food, medicine, and shelter, no matter the cost. They had already lost so much; he would not let them lose each other.

♦♦♦

Kalika

This is Duke Farl's castle. It is located on the west side of the city near the sea. It is a very large castle surrounded by four layers of walls.

Christia stormed into her father's chamber. "Father, is it true?"

Duke Farl sighed deeply before answering. "Yes, my daughter. What you've heard is true."

Christia's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "How can the queen do this? And how can you agree to it? Our family has ruled here for centuries! How can we just hand over our power to them?"

The duke rose from his chair. "I understand your anger, Christia. Believe me, this decision weighs heavily on me as well. But we have no other choice. We must accept the reality of our situation."

Christia said, "But..."

Duke Farl held up a hand to silence her. "I know what you're feeling, but we cannot rule over a dead nation. The Bernard Empire has offered us fifty thousand tons of food. With that, we can feed our people and begin to rebuild. They've also promised to provide housing, medical supplies, and assistance in repairing the damage caused by the war. This is the best offer we could hope for under the circumstances. Also, they're not taking everything, Christia. We'll retain some limited authority. This is not an ideal solution, but it's the only way to ensure our people's survival. The first shipment of aid will arrive within hours. This is for the greater good."

♦♦♦

As the sun dipped below the horizon, a convoy of vehicles approached the outskirts of Fam. The Bernard Empire's aid shipment was a sight to behold—a sprawling column of trucks, military escorts, and helicopters that stretched for miles. At the forefront were fifty heavy-duty transport trucks, each capable of carrying up to twenty tons of cargo. These were followed by twenty armoured personnel carriers and a dozen fuel tankers, ensuring the convoy's safety and mobility.

Overhead, the sky buzzed with activity. A squadron of attack helicopters, including the formidable AH-64 Apache and the Mi-24 Hind, provided air support. These were accompanied by a fleet of transport helicopters, CH-47 Chinook and the UH-60 Black Hawk, which carried additional supplies and personnel. Like, water purification units, generators, medical teams etc...

The convoy was also a display of power, a reminder of the Bernard Empire's dominance. For the people of Firestone.