The stained glass windows that lined the outside of the cathedral in the centre of Coren had been designed and crafted by an artisan named Tyrman Nell.
He had lived around a hundred years ago, during an artistic renaissance on the planet, and had volunteered to craft new windows for the cathedral when the previous ones had been heavily damaged in the storm. He was a young man at the time, but the accomplishments he already had to his name convinced Prester Yoel -- who had been in charge at the time -- to trust him with the decoration of the great cathedral. He told Nell that he had but one year to complete the pieces, otherwise they would be forced to look elsewhere.
Nell would not be deterred by such a harsh deadline, however. He worked like a madman to complete the glasswork, ignoring all other aspects of his life. During this period, his daughter asked many times for her father to spend time with her, but he refused. He had more important things to worry about, after all. What occurred over the course of those six months could be considered the creation of true genius, resulting in pieces of art that were unmatched during the period.
Yes, you'll notice that I said six months. Even though Nell had been given only a year, he managed to complete his work to the highest standard in only half that time -- it's said he spent the next six months sleeping.
Next, however, the Prester asked him to complete new statues for the Garden of Stone -- the originals had also been damaged in the great storm. Nell readily agreed: he was eager to gain more prestige as a renowned artisan. This time, however, he only had six months to complete the work.
Again, his work ethic was impeccable. Like a man possessed, he turned hunks of rocks into delicate depictions of piety and virtue with time even to spare. During this period, his daughter asked many times for him to spend time with her, but he refused. He had more important concerns, after all.
The Prester was overjoyed by the new statues, as he had been with the stained glass. So, for his final request, he commanded the artisan to replace the men who had been killed in the storm, to fashion new guards from mud and stone -- and because the Prester now knew of Nell's great skill, he gave him but a single day to complete the work.
The artisan worked diligently, fashioning dummy guards from whatever could be found on hand -- by the twelve hour mark, he had completed six of the nine warriors that had been requested. He was just about to begin upon the seventh when once again his young daughter approached, and asked him to spend time with her. Just a few minutes, she asked.
He went to reprimand her, to refuse her request, but some divine wind gave him pause. In the first place, he had become an artisan to provide for his family, to feed and clothe them -- but what use was that if he also robbed them of their happiness? Existence without joy was mere continuation.
In the end, Nell spent the entire rest of the day with his daughter, and told the Prester that he had been unable to fulfill his request. The Prester smiled lightly to himself -- for this had been his true intent from the beginning! The artisan had worshipped in function by crafting such wonders, true, but by neglecting his family he had been ignoring the will of the gods all the same.
The artisan named Nell put down his tools, and never picked them up again, spending his remaining days with the family that adored him. Even so, however, proof of his magnificence remained -- in the great stained glass window that adorned the cathedral.
None of this mattered, however, as Dragan Hadrien and Serena del Sed came smashing through that window, utterly destroying it as they rushed to avoid a devastating attack.
A sea of beasts followed after them.
----------------------------------------
Lizard and reptile, mammal and vermin. Humanoid and quadruped. Scale and fur, claw and bone. Green and blue and jaundice yellow. Bulging eyes and thrashing tongues and hungry, hungry teeth.
Enden Los sighed in relief as he watched his flood of creatures rush through the broken window, following after Hadrien and del Sed. Perhaps this move had been a little hasty on his part, but in the end he would be victorious all the same.
He glanced down at the ground below, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the sight. It was full of those beasts that were unable to move quickly, the ones that dragged themselves by malformed arms or slithered like a slug or just writhed on the floor in agony. Pale imitations of the Gene Noble's work.
Creating Guardian Entities was not an easy task. At first, they'd used simple test cases -- the first being an antique musical instrument -- only moving over to living creatures once they'd been sure the recording process would work. The first generation of Guardian Entities had used up the store of their patron's personal creations -- from there, they'd had to engineer beasts all their own. Some of those, too, had been worthy -- useful enough to assign to Regulators, at least.
Others, however, had been like these. Utter failures, sabotaged by their own biology for every moment they were alive. Most couldn't exist outside of an Aether form for more than a few minutes. Those that were capable of thought were driven mad by their own inadequacy -- not to mention the stress of existing only as Aether for centuries on end.
If these people had thought Los capable only of throwing knives and making idle threats, then they were fools. It would be no exaggeration to say that the entire Guardian Entity system was Enden Los' Aether ability.
He'd manifested about twenty percent of the failure stock with that attack. Perhaps a little bit overkill, but effective all the same. Now that they had Hadrien and del Sed's scents, they wouldn't give up the chase until their hunger was sated.
If they found other food on the way, that was unfortunate, but accidents did happen. Whatever happened now, his enemies would be dead before the sun set. While his horde was dealing with the riff-raff, Los would track down Aubrisher -- and reclaim his lost light.
Enden Los flipped his weapons in his hands. He was still very good with knives, after all.
----------------------------------------
The humanoid beak-thing leaped into the air, screeching as it clawed at its prey.
A second later, it was blasted out of the sky with a Gemini Shotgun. A second after that, it's spot was filled instead by two malformed jaguar-beings, both of which drooled copious amounts of blood as they ran. And behind them were hundreds more of the abominations.
Dragan winced as he beheld the sea of monsters. He'd never actually probed the limits of his Gemini Shotgun, but he was fairly sure that dispatching hundreds of ravenous monstrosities was beyond him. The only reason he hadn't been torn to pieces was the fact that Serena was carrying him, fireman style, as she ran full speed.
Even with Serena's considerable speed, however, they were only barely out of range of the horde -- and with the uneven surface of the cathedral roofs they were sprinting across, there was no guarantee they'd be able to maintain this pace.
They were in a tight spot. Now that Dragan thought about it, maybe he should keep his mouth shut every now and then.
"Mr. Dragan," Serena called out, nearly sending him flying as she ducked to avoid a shower of acidic spit. "This seems really bad. What do we do?"
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
"I'm thinking about it!" Dragan cried, his voice nearly swallowed by the wind.
If they tried to pick these enemies off one at a time, like they'd been doing until now, they'd be here for hours -- or, more likely, they'd eventually slip up and get themselves eaten. The only practical way out of this mess was to take out all of the enemies at once. Dragan didn't know this terrain, and he hadn't had time to prepare anything like traps, so the way he saw it there was only one thing to turn to --
-- Lily's Guardian Entity. It had been the explosive gases of the swamp that had destroyed the Regulator army, sure, but the ability to call down lightning as she did would be perfect for taking on this crowd.
Lily and Ruth had headed up to the Prester's office, to confront and capture Garth. It was a bit of a gamble, but he had nothing better.
"Serena!" he shouted, firing off a sequence of covering Gemini Shotguns behind them. "Up! We're going up!"
She didn't hesitate for a moment. With the thrust of an Aether-infused leg, she took off -- and they began to climb.
----------------------------------------
Garth blinked, staring down at the claws that tickled his jugular. "Do you intend to kill me?" he asked Ruth, voice soft.
Ruth narrowed her eyes. "That's up to you." It was true -- she was ready to open up his throat at the first sign of hostility. At this distance, there was no way she could miss.
The Prester didn't so much as blink. "If you don't intend to kill me," he replied. "Then what is your intent?" His eyes flicked over to Lily, standing behind Ruth. "Perhaps I should ask you instead, Lily Aubrisher? A pleasure to finally meet you in person."
"Fuck you," Lily growled, her hands balled into fists at her sides. A threatening crackle of electricity ran along her arm, and the Good Lady flinched in response.
Garth smiled thinly. Even in this situation, with Ruth inches away from cutting his throat, he acted as if he was in complete control. "There's no need for such hostility. We're adversaries, true, but we are both human beings. There's room for respect between us."
"Fuck. You." If anything, that only increased the fury in Lily's tone. "You're going to listen."
"Of course," Garth said. "I won't let it be said that I was an uncooperative captive. You've done very well for yourself, by the by -- two hostages, and of such high rank too. I find myself rather frightened of what you might do next."
The Good Lady shuffled awkwardly under Garth's gaze -- but before she could open her mouth to speak, Ruth interrupted.
"She ain't a hostage," she snapped. "She's a witness."
That, at last, seemed to catch Garth off-guard. He furrowed his brow: "Witness? A witness to what?"
Ruth jerked her head in the Good Lady's direction. "Tell him."
That seemed to give the young girl the confidence she needed. She stepped forward, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
"Prester Garth," she said, with only the slightest tremor. "A lot of people have gotten hurt and -- and killed. And I know that's war, and that those sorts of things happen in war, but -- well, maybe it shouldn't be happening. Maybe we shouldn't be in a war like that. Maybe people shouldn't be hurt."
Garth raised an eyebrow. "A lovely notion, my dear, but I'm afraid I find it unrealistic. We must defend ourselves against rebels. You understand that, don't you?"
For a moment, it seemed as if that rebuke would knock the confidence out of the Good Lady -- but no. She drew upon some hidden store of bravery, looked Garth right in the eye, and continued.
"If it's unrealistic," she breathed. "Then you make it realistic. You're in charge. That's -- that's your job! So you're all gonna stay here and nobody's leaving until there's peace! Then… then nobody else will get hurt."
Even Ruth had to admit the speech seemed a little naive, but it proved that the Good Lady wouldn't be backing down here.
"More importantly," Lily growled. "You're gonna start telling the truth -- to us first, then everyone. About the Guardian Entities, about the starship, about this whole damn war."
"And why would I do that?"
"'Cause if you don't, my friend's gonna gut you like a fish."
Garth sighed, looking unsettlingly calm for the dire situation he was in. He glanced over to his nearby desk. "May I sit?"
"Go for it," Ruth said, her voice steely. She could kill him just as quickly, whether she was five inches or five steps away. She didn't much want to stay in this position forever, anyway.
The Prester took a seat, grunting as he leaned back in his chair. As he steepled his fingers in front of him, he looked for all the world like he was taking an interview -- like this was a light conversation he was having over dinner, not an interrogation at clawpoint.
"You disappoint me, little one," he said to the Good Lady, his eyes dismissive. She flinched in response.
"I'm only doing what I think is right," she mumbled.
His gaze didn't change. "That is why you disappoint me. Who are you to decide what is right? You are a child -- all of you, you are all children. You have neither the experience nor the disposition to judge the correct course of action." The slightest anger became visible on him, his eyes narrowing as he squeezed his hands tightly together. "And when someone does understand what is necessary, and makes it so, what do you do? You whine. You undermine. You stand in the way of action, and offer no alternative except petty ideals. You disappoint me. You disappoint me."
"Action?" Lily scoffed. "You're a moron. Look what your necessary shit has accomplished. You've lost your men, you've lost your advantage -- and if you don't play your cards right, you're likely gonna lose your fucking life. If it ends like this, it wasn't a good plan from the start!"
The crease in Garth's brow deepened. "And what would you have us do, then, girl? There is an entire universe out there ready to crush us underneath it's heel. You think they will take kindly to the last children of the gods they so despise? I have tasted the memories of that world beyond -- and it is a merciless one. You'd have us put our heads between it's jaws, hm? Is that it? For the sake of your damn truth? It's embarrassing to even look at you."
Lily's glare was fire and blood -- for a second, Ruth thought she might just leap on Garth and kill him herself. In the end, though, only words left her lips.
"Anything's better than this," she hissed.
Outside, it began to rain, drops tapping gently against the window.
The moment passed, and the anger that had engulfed the Prester seemed to fade away. As if nothing had happened, he cleared his throat and adjusted his sleeves.
"And so it goes," he spat bitterly.
"You done?" Ruth said, her claws still pointed in Garth's direction.
He simply nodded, closing his eyes. "Of course," he said. "Ask me anything. However…"
Prester Garth opened his eyes again, and in them was reflected the spark of danger.
"...I will not answer. Entity Override: Gashadokuro. Kill the enemy."
Ruth didn't know what those words meant, but the second they left his mouth, she lunged at him, ready to make good on her promise...
...only for her hand to stop right before it could strike Garth's neck. He'd grabbed it right out of the air, his arm crackling with sparks of deep blue Aether.
"I told you I tasted the memories of your world," he said calmly. "You really thought something like this was beyond me?"
A second later, Ruth went flying as she was struck by an invisible -- and immense -- force. Before she could even register what was happening, she had smashed through the window, flailing in the wet air as she was launched off the balcony.
The last thing she heard before falling off the cathedral entirely was Garth, speaking as he turned to face Lily and the Good Lady.
"Now," he said. "Where were we?"