Novels2Search

Chapter 99 - Pushing to the Summits

“Trident West to HQ. We’ve got their flag,” remarked Lucian into his talkie-cone.

Why’s that bastard taking so long? After all the airs of climbing the summit two hundred times! Lucian thought, anxiously tapping his foot.

“Trident West to HQ. Do we return or reinforce Elwin?”

“Negative,” said Isaac, “hold for –”

And just then, his voice crumbled to distorted static. There was another person on the line.

“...ne to HQ. Daphne to HQ! Recon sees two squadras from House ARTAIA moving north! They’re going in the direction of the summit!”

Crap! Isaac lamented. Elwin was going to be pincered from the front and the back!

“HQ to Trident West, reinf–” stopped Isaac, his words interrupted by the flaring of a green firework from the Circuleum to his seven o’clock; the Padishahs were already at the Circuleum? Was there a squadra to the west he didn’t notice?

“Trident West to HQ. Say again?”

“Wait a minute,” said Isaac, holstering his talkie-cone. Not five seconds after, a green firework rose from House SUNNA. The Padishahs must have arrived there too. Wait, that meant –

“HQ to Fort South. Rafia, Rafia, are you there?” He shouted frantically, heart in his throat.

A second stretched into eternity until Rafia’s voice pierced the comms.

“Yeah, Fort South reporting. What’s the matter?”

“Is the flag safe?”

“Yes!”

“Are you under attack?”

“Not at all! What in the MAHA is going on?”

Isaac cocked his head. What?

“Fort South, are you sure there are no Padishahs below you?”

“Not a sign! We’ve been craning our ears for their arrival since 10 minutes ago!”

“Copy-that! Stay put!” replied Isaac, holstering his talkie cone again. There was something profoundly strange. Why hadn’t the 15 Padishah squadras assaulted the southern quartier even after all this time?

No, that was the least strange out of all this. Why didn’t the Circuleum and SUNNA fire off the red fireworks yet? They signaled the Padishahs were there just now. Isaac told them to not resist, so the opponents should’ve taken the flag immediately, but –

And then a thought hit Isaac on the back of his head. He redrew the arrows of assault the Padishahs were going to take. If the torch-ladened 15 squadras didn’t go to the southern quartier, then the only place they could go was –

The ziggurat.

Isaac unholstered the talkie-cone as fast as he could.

“HQ TO TRIDENT WEST. WE ARE GOING TO BE BESIEGED! REINFORCE US IMMEDIATELY!”

“WHAT IN THE MAHA?” blared Lucian. “DAMN IT! WILL BE RIGHT THERE!”

Isaac did not know for certain, but all lines pointed to his deduction. The Padishahs might not have been interested in the flags from the beginning. Their show of force with the torch was a ploy to misdirect the Celendirs. After all, what kind of benefit would it give for them to move so loudly and brightly as if to reveal their presence? The Padishahs were making a feinting attack on the flags; their true target was the ziggurat all along. And if they were going to assault it, that means they were not sparing any of their forces.

Isaac had planned Lucian to reinforce Elwin, but the ziggurat was more important. The reinforcement would come down to Robert.

Come on, Robert! Give us something!

Khan suddenly held up his hand, as if he heard a noise no one did; signaling others to silence, he stooped down to the metal floor and held his ears.

He widened his eyes.

“They’re here!”

“How many?”

“At least 40 people, from the melodies! 10 squadras!”

“They’re climbing this way!” a squadra mate hollered, pointing to the slope of the ziggurat in the south.

Moving figures draped in darkness penetrated the mist, climbing the sides of the ziggurat like spiders.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“They’re climbing this way too!” said another mate, pointing to the slope from the west.

“And to our west! Hurry! Hurry!”

“Isaac,” said Khan, readying his Quan. “Stay up here near the banner. I will defend this place with my life. If you can, if the others take the flags, rally them here as quickly as you can.”

He hoisted Isaac onto the temple ledge, and jumped down once again, shouting down into the misty slopes. “YOU DARE CHALLENGE ME, THE KHAN OF METAL?”

Sounds of breaking metal, streaking fire, and shattering frost issued forth from the slopes of the ziggurat, coloring the mist in a palette of colors. Lucian, who was racing from House MANASURA, took in the sight upon his eyes.

Please, please, Robert, take the flag now! Prayed Isaac. Or Elwin and everyone else is going to perish!

And as if the FOUNDERS had heard him, a red firework rose forth from the Oracle of Aeternitas.

“ROBERT TO HQ! WE’VE GOT THE FLAG! WE’RE REINFORCING ELWIN!” hollered Robert through the comms, cognizant of the motions radiating from his machine.

“YOU HAVE MY THANKS!” exclaimed Isaac, turning his attention to the battle on the slopes below him.

To his right from the Oracle of Aeternitas, Elwin saw a red firework rise and split.

And just as the eyes of the defenders darted to see it, and moved downwards by chance –

“THEY’RE COMING FROM THE SIDES!” One of the defenders pointed and yelled, pelting a fresh round of stones through the branches above them –

“Follow me, and don’t you let up!” Elwin hollered, as he commanded ‘MAIOR FORTIOR!’, emblazoning the paintwork of night; he commanded ‘URA!’ and ‘ZAHN!’ and ‘RIS!’ to deflect the falling stones away studiously, minute after minute, and after the halfway point, gathered speed, yet more speed, piercing the remaining trees and brambles and spearing them apart with his water. Hearkening to the call of his Quan to use his Asha like they did so many times before, Elwin closed his eyes, and felt the world come alive in the spotless realm of his Asha; shapes of every being splashing like paints of gold among black.

Two stones from the right, he alerted himself, feeling the tug of the ORI on his head and arm; he dodged them deftly.

Five stones directly from the front, he perceived, stretching his body low and back to dodge them all, recouping his lost speed doing a windmill upon the sloped earth, rocketing forward once again –

One giant stake of wood, he saw, as he split its arrival just as he’d done with the pillar from Ursus, but oh no, his friends behind were going to be –

Mirai pulled up a bastion of earth from the sloped terrain. The stake of wood splintered into pieces as it hit the shield of Mirai and other Torch Bearers – they were spared.

And just then, he sighted a mass of Padishahs racing into the clearing below them, a sight that made Elwin’s stomach lurch. They pointed their fingers at the slopes to Elwin and his huddled figures – and without wasting a moment, took to the steps to chase them up when –

A jet of fire and a fireball materialized in front of them, and in jumped figures wearing sky-blue sashes.

It was Robert’s battered crew.

“GO, GO, CLIMB, CLIMB, CLIMB!” Robert exclaimed to Elwin and his squadras. “WE’VE GOT YOUR BACK!”

Seeing his rearguard protected, Elwin darted up, up, and up, dodging the remaining rain of rocks and stone, many of them almost grazing him. But he was almost there.

He jumped past the last few remaining brambles and loose stones, and with his eyes still closed, he jumped as hard as he could up past the final ledge, hauling him over the edge of the summit –

Before the defenders had time to react, he hollered ‘UTUMMION!’ with all his might, and the air hammered the defenders to the floor, halting their assault upon his friends.

“NOW, NOW, NOW!” he yelled, as Mirai, Katherine, and sixteen others all clambered up from the ledge on either side of the stairway, and tackled them with throws of earth, stone, fire, frost, and air – the Torch Bearers dug up enormous interlocking shields and advanced on the defending Padishahs scrambling to their feet, while the Artillery Guardians pummeled them with fiery stones launched from behind; the Eagle Watchers with their sona and sonir from the Song of the Wisps accelerated the friendly projectiles and deflected the hostile ones, driving the defenders ever closer to the edge of the summit. Elwin was in their midst, forming water into various shapes, latching them onto a Padishah or knocking another from their feet; now that the armonion machine was broken, he did not need to be conservative about fighting. He sighted a waving green flag with the sigil of a crown on the back of a Padishah, and sparing not a second, latched onto it with a gauntlet of frost and wrested it off his frantic grip. Seeing that their flag was no longer in their hands, one of them launched a red firework into the air, splitting the sky for all the Academy grounds to see.

Before long, the dozen defending Padishahs were pushed up at the very edge of the summit; if they lost their footing, they would plummet.

Elwin commanded his team to halt, flag in his hand.

“Do we have terms?”

The defending Padishahs nodded reluctantly, feeling no more earth one step behind them; wordlessly the Celendirs took a step back, but still on guard, lest the Padishahs break their terms. But break their word they did not, as they donned their white sashes.

Elwin looked down at the clearing, and saw that Robert’s squadras had prevailed; he raced down with the flag as fast as his legs could carry him, nearly flying, Katherine and Mirai and the others in tow.

Elwin unholstered the talkie-cone from Robert’s machine, and spoke:

“Trident North to HQ! We’ve got their flag!”

Isaac received news with great elation.

“GREAT! ALL TRIDENTS, RETURN TO THE ZIGGURAT! WE ARE BEING BESIEGED BY 10 PADISHAH SQUADRAS! WE NEED RELIEF!”

“WILL-DO!” shouted Elwin, placing the talkie-cone back. He hugged Robert briefly but deeply.

“Thanks, Robert.”

“Don’t mention it,” he huffed, as the remaining one-and-a-half squadras from Robert’s original 3 and remaining 3 from Elwin’s original 5 began their sprint across the forested park to the central road, and the central road to the ziggurat.

The professors watched the firework ascend from the summit of the hill, and heard the exchange of the Celendirs through the armonion machines.

“They’re not using standard Armée jargon,” commented Professor Helen, “but it looks like they’re doing fine with phrases of their own.”

Professor William threw his head back and mustered a hearty cackle.

“Bless their wit! They have truly taken the meaning of ‘use every knowledge’ to their heart. Say, aren’t you gifted some extraordinary Artens this year, Professor Aionia?”

“It’s all on them,” she replied, trying to wipe away an involuntary smile.

Every professor there had the same thought. It reminded them of their times, twenty-five years ago, in the war for the skies and for the cities against the Syndicate. It was a battle that involved millions of soldiers and tens of millions of civilians, and Professor Aionia’s armonion machines had helped saved them; until it was adapted and exploited by the Syndicate in equal measure, the discovery and tool which she created in the hope of harmony, in hope of bringing people together, used as a tool to cleave their lives with ruthless efficiency.

No invention was fated to remain in the hands of the inventor.