Chapter 133 : Sergei Rybakov

January 7, 1995, Grozny

Sergei Rybakov had been sent to Chechen to fight the war that had erupted the previous month. Just three years earlier, he was a novice within the Order of the Blessed and was now in the epicenter of a conflict that seemed endless. That night, in a building completely abandoned and crushed by the explosions of the morning before, Sergei was lurking in a room, sitting a few steps from the shattered window. Three Russian soldiers who were with him got up to change the observation point. Igor Yerzov entered.
« Sergei, I've bad news: Vorobyov is dead. Orders have changed, tomorrow we'll protect the soldiers. »
« And that Islamic magus? What do we do with him? »
« After the clash we had today I don't think he will have enough magical energy to hurt our men, for a while he shouldn't bother us. »
« Why am I here? » Sergei asked, worried.
« You're a good magus. You have a magical energy control that is truly exceptional. »
« Yet I don't feel ready for this life, Igor. Do you believe in me too? »
« I think you're good but ... you have to grow up. You're too naive. »
« What are you talking about? »
Igor closed the door behind him and began to speak in a low voice so as not to be heard by the soldiers:
«Two days ago we were ordered to eliminate all the magi enemies. They were Islamic, they had to be killed, you knew it, yet I saw you save a man that begged you to be spared. If I hadn't intervened ... »
« I'm not an animal. I don't want to kill mercilessly. I want to be compassionate, I want to be a true Christian not a murderer who kills in the name of God. » Sergei said, getting up from his chair suddenly.
« Lower your voice. »

« Why? I'm not ashamed of being a human being. »

« Be ashamed of being insubordinate, Sergei. If you are ordered to kill, you must kill. Don't think, don't ask why, just kill. »

January 10, 1995

The Russian bombing of the Grozny Presidential Palace had begun. Sergei and Igor were commissioned to protect the soldiers from attacks by some enemy magi. During the battle someone hit Igor in the back injuring his arm, Sergei saw the magus run away, helped his friend to get up.
« Igor! Igor, are you okay? »
« Don't think about me! Kill that asshole! »
Sergei was hesitating, Igor screamed again:
« Kill him, Sergei! »
Sergei ran after the magus and then came into a small house where there was only one poor family who was frightened to see him enter. The father stood before his wife who embraced the three children who trembled like leaves; the woman wept and begged for mercy. Sergei apologized, left the house but was hit by a magic bullet that wounded his shoulder. The magus was inside the house.
Sergei was injured, he left. He didn't want to fight the enemy in a house with an innocent family inside. He saw Igor arriving enraged:
« I knew it! I knew you were going to be a fool once again! »
Igor, despite being injured, pushed Sergei and threw a fireball from his hand. The house burned.
« NO! NO! Igor, there were people in there! There were civilians! » Sergei screamed in tears.
« Fuck you, Sergei! There was no one in there! There was only the enemy and the enemy only! »
« No! There was a family! They had nothing to do with this fucking war! They were innocent! Why did you kill them? »
« This is war, Sergei! Deal with it! »

Sergei fell into tears in front of that stake, the smell of burnt flesh together with that of wood gave him a sense of nausea, his wet eyes burned from the smoke, slumped to the ground, Sergei asked for forgiveness for he did to the family:
« I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please ... may your souls forgive me! May the Lord have mercy on me! »

That nameless face accuses me in the night,
That house inhabited by flames calls me at every sight,
My nights in Chechen are red.
I sleep, I die, I breathe, I suffocate.

Sergei Rybakov by Bikowolf