Chapter 9: The Verd Army Arrives

“Research Log, 12 Years, 4 Months, 7 Days (Day 4,262) Cont.

“Not yet an adult, he has me asking if I am a god. Before now I would have laughed at the idea.

"But how different am I to Dytie when comparing Mada to the first diordna? And when he created that first diordna did he feel as I do toward Mada?

“Would Dytie consider me and Mada a threat to him? I can’t imagine that he would. However, others may see what I’ve done and think it blasphemy.

“And that could put us both in great danger.”

By mid-afternoon, the pain in Nevets leg had subsided, though every once in a while the bird would step on an uneven patch or over a fallen tree and send a jolting pain from his wound. They’d traveled in almost complete silence, which made sense to Nevets as the army wouldn’t want to be caught because of carelessness. The only sound he’d heard since leaving Ekivia’s was the sound of messenger birds flapping their way back and forth from Nagemai, delivering reports at regular intervals. Normally messenger birds would speak their messages, but again for stealth purposes, these ones bore small parchment scrolls.

So when Nagemai started speaking he was so startled he nearly fell off the side of the saddle, but her arms around his torso kept him upright.

“I was going to tell you before that I’ve read your most recent book,” Nagemai said. “At least I think it was your most recent. The one on whether or not isolated organics can feel simple emotions like some animals do, or if they’re basically emotionless and mindless. It was very good.”

Nevets grunted. It was his most recent work, though he didn’t feel inclined to tell her that.

“I like how you made it accessible to anyone,” She continued. “Professionals in your field or someone like me. There was one question I had that didn’t get answered though.”

She paused, and Nevets tried to think what question she was talking about. His book covered a lot of ground, but he knew there were holes. Their understanding of isolated organics was still young, and they were bound to discover more and more as they continued to study the creations. He himself had questions about the topic still, and he’d spent several years compiling information and sorting through research. However, he didn’t expect one of those questions from a diordna not in the engineering field. He suspected her question would be much simpler.

“You concluded they don’t feel or think like animals can,” Nagemai said. “But do you know how Mada was designed? If I’m not mistaken, his arms and legs look identical to organic prosthetics. Sure, they don’t have their own small internal organs tucked into the shoulder or somewhere, they used the organs in the chest cavity, but still. How different is Mada from one big isolated organic creation? And for that matter how different are any of them?”

The question was interesting, though with a huge flaw that Nevets felt that need to correct. “The shapes of normal animals are ones that appear in nature, just with slight alterations. Isolated organics don’t appear in their form anywhere, including prosthetics. Nowhere in nature is there a limb without a body. That’s the real difference. Mada is not an isolated organic creation, but a new animal, based on old ones.”

“I see,” Nagemai said, and Nevets thought he could hear a smile in her voice. “So you know for a fact that it is impossible for isolated organics to think and feel, and that Ekivia didn’t use isolation to make Mada?”

As soon as she said the name Nevets knew he’d messed up. How had he let that slip?

“No, I don’t,” Nevets said, sight tinting the world a slightly dark red, his voice turning hard and cold to indicate he was done talking about it.

“Well, I hope we can both find out soon,” Nagemai said. “Maybe Ekivia will have some answers. Do you know how she managed to make Mada after losing her license? It’s basically impossible to get materials for that kind of thing without one.”

“I don’t,” Nevets said.

“Well, allow me to enlighten you with a little help from Mada,” Nagemai said, and he felt her twist to look back at the animal diordna. “Mada, have you know the name Egeil?”

Nevets didn’t recognize the name, but he looked over his shoulder, curious to see what Mada would say. The boy… no he was too old to be just a boy now. Maybe Nevets would start thinking of him simply as a na? Treating him that way and speaking of him that way could help influence the subconscious minds of those who read what he would write about Mada.

The na had a look of complete shock on his face, except for the color in his eyes that is. “How do you know that name? I didn’t think anyone knew about that.”

Nagemai turned to look at Nevets briefly, a big smile spread across her face, then she turned back to Mada. “How do you think I know the name?”

“That’s…” Mada said, then licked his lips. “That’s not possible. No one else knew. It doesn’t even look like she told Nevets yet.”

“Who is Egeil?” Nevets asked, looking between the general and Mada.

“Egeil is the one who supplied Ekivia with what she needed to finish making Mada,” Nagemai said.

Nevets looked to Mada for confirmation, and he nodded, expression still one of shock.

“That would mean…” Nevets began.

“Exactly what you think it does,” Nagemai said. “And I hope you believe me when I say that my purpose here today is the same as it was back then.”

“The one who brought the message wasn’t a half-skin,” Mada said.

“True,” Nagemai said. “But the one who sent it was.”

Nevets looked between them. This was a secret that Ekivia had kept for two decades. For this stranger to know it could mean two things, either she’d sent the message as she implied, or she’d found the diordna who had and learned of its contents.

“There’s more than one way you could have gotten that name,” Nevets said, mostly to snap Mada out of his stupor. “We’ve seen how you ask questions.”

“I understand you don’t trust me yet. That’s alright. I will eventually tell you everything, but I’d like Ekivia to hear it too. And on top of that we’re almost there,” Nagemai said, nodding ahead of them. “For now, just know that I have a strong interest in ensuring your safety and that of Ekivia.”

Nevets turned, looking ahead again, his mind a tangled mess. It was all too coincidental that she knew so much that she shouldn’t and that she’d come when she did. On top of that, Iakedrom had arrived the same day. There were layers to all this that Nevets couldn’t see, but those layers had put them all in incredible danger. He wondered if Ekivia had more answers, or if she would be just as lost in his place.

The trees began to thin, and a short time later Nevets could see Rebmevon in the distance beyond the edge of the forest. The city was a beautiful sight to behold, especially as it was late spring. Most of the newer buildings had a layer of lush green leaves covering the outside that rippled and swayed in the wind, and at the tops of each, branches reached toward the sun and swayed. There were structures ranging from single-story buildings near the outer edge to ten-story buildings near the center of the city. Probably three-quarters of them were grown where they stood, but it was easy to spot the older stone or brick buildings between the larger planted ones. These older buildings were much smaller, no more than 5 stories at the tallest, any taller and the arches couldn’t support the weight of the building. Despite their lack of height and vibrant color, the contrast between the old and new created a beauty that struck Nevets as it never had before. This was his home. It was beautiful.

And it was about to be destroyed.

“Dytie have mercy,” Nevets whispered, eyes swirling with fear and sorrow, tinting the world with a spinning black and white that made him dizzy. Maybe the battalion would return in time to save his home. He didn’t think so.

"Dytie is not a merciful God," Nagemai said from her place on the saddle behind him. He’d been so caught up in the vision of his city that he’d nearly forgotten she was there, despite her arms being wrapped around him. "He is a cruel one."

"No," Nevets responded, jaw tightening. "Diordna like you are the cruel ones."

"I won't deny that,” Nagemai said, and Nevets thought he heard…regret in her voice. Sorrow. “But it is Dytie who placed us in a position where cruelty is the best option."

Nevets turned to look at the nawo and was surprised to see just how sorrow black her eyes were. Diordna emotion-sight was usually fairly transparent, depending on the intensity of the emotion. So it surprised Nevets that Nagemai’s eyes were so black that she would nearly be blinded by it, and droplets of sorrow rolled down her cheeks. She was genuinely sorrowful for what was about to come.

It made Nevets almost want to trust her.

“With your authority, you could end the cruelty,” Nevets said. “If you wanted to. Blaming Dytie does nothing to improve the world.”

“True,” Nagemai said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “But I don’t blame him to exonerate myself. I accept my part, and I am truly sorry it is necessary for now. But I did not create a cruel world, I simply must be cruel to survive in the world that was given us by a cruel god."

Nevets was stunned. Never before had he heard such disrespect for their god. It made him angry.

“We fight because of your false Chosen,” Nevets spat.

“The Redaeli say the same thing about your Chosen,” Nagemai said calmly. “Is it not possible that neither Chosen is false? Or that both are?”

That made Nevets pause. Nagemai seemed to really think that was a possibility. Dytie would not choose two and then pit their peoples against each other. It was illogical. Chaotic. “Dytie is not a God of chaos, but of order.”

“Perhaps,” Nagemai said. “But did you know there were once three nations? Also, claiming to be led by the one Chosen of Dytie? The Egeilen were destroyed. It should have been a great victory to the Drol and Redael, one to be lauded and recorded in our histories. Instead, it has been forgotten by almost all diordna kind.”

Nevets hadn’t heard that before, but he didn’t miss that the name of this third nation was Egeilen, for Egeil. The title of this supposed third Chosen was also the name they’d been discussing mere minutes before.

If Nagemai was telling the truth it would raise numerous questions about the Chosen. But it was an unverifiable statement. All he had was the word of a Redaeli general who now claimed to be connected to this forgotten third nation and threw around the title of their supposed Chosen to get what she wanted. Granted, that same general showed more compassion for her enemies than any of his own people would toward the Redaeli.

“How could you know something forgotten by all but yourself?” Nevets asked.

“Because I was there,” Nagemai said. “I’ve been alive far longer than almost anyone, aside from the Chosen.”

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Nevets was formulating a response, but one of Nagemai’s captains approached, riding up beside them on a Lancer like Nagemai’s.

“General,” He said, saluting by pressing his palm to his forehead and bowing slightly. “Should we start making camp here?”

“No,” Nagemai said. “We attack in half an hour. Spread the word.”

“So soon?” The captain said. “It’s the middle of the day, and we’ve been marching since this morning. Your soldiers could use the rest and an attack in the morning will be harder to see coming.”

“It will be too late by morning,” Nagemai said. “Carry my command.”

“Yes, General.” The captain saluted again, then rode off to do as he was told.

“Treblig!” Nagemai called, and her right hand came riding up on his Betterer. He’d been giving them space and keeping others at a distance from the general’s mount the whole ride at Nagemai’s request. It was obvious to Nevets now that it was so they could talk in private.

“Yes, Nagemai,” Treblig said with a salute.

“Take a team and the surviving officer,” Nagemai said. “Find the officer’s house that’s holding Ekivia and bring her to me unharmed. I’ll give your squad a head start.”

“Yes General,” Treblig said and he too rode off to do as he was told.

As Nagemai began sending message birds to her commanding officers Nevets turned back to o look at the city. He was trying to decide how much he believed her. She seemed so earnest, but the things she said were so outlandish.

About a quarter of an hour later Treblig and his team rode past them and out of the trees toward the city. They’d surely be seen, but with all of them mounted that might not matter.

A short time later the rest of the army started moving.

"May Dytie grant these diordna rest from this cruel world,” Nagemai said as they began their march. “Perhaps that is his greatest mercy."

"If you believe that," Nevets said. "Then why do you fight? Why not choose to die?"

"Because I know why I fight,” Nagemai said. “And it isn’t for the glory of a Chosen. I have felt joy and peace and hope before. If my life is taken from me I will accept that mercy, but until then I will fight for the hope that peace can be a permanent state for all diordna kind, and not a temporary one. I fight for the glory, the joy, the peace, and the hope of every diordna."

Nevets looked back at the nawo, seated atop her bird, head high, face resolute despite the sorrow in her eyes. He felt that he saw in her the years and battles she'd lived through, each one hard-fought, each one driving her toward the general who could bypass border defenses and pierce the heart of her enemy.

Nagemai saw him watching her and took a bird from one of the perches that rigged her saddle, then held it toward Nevets. “A gift.”

Nevets cocked his head, confused as he took the bird.

“It’s a parrot for you to continue your work with Mada,” She said. “I believe he is what you say, and I would like to see a third nation on this land again. Perhaps Mada will be a new kind of Chosen, the first of his kind, one that doesn’t need to perpetuate these wars.”

“I…” Nevets hesitated. What could he say to that? “Thank you.”

“There’s one more thing I want to say before this battle starts,” Nagemai said. “I want you to know that I believe life and death can both be mercies at the right time. Know that if I didn't wish to extend the first to my nation I would not bring the second to yours. Maybe someday there will be a place for all three of our kind to live as diordna together instead of fighting all the time. But for now, this is the best I can do.”

Nevets met her eyes a moment, and she met his, and he thought she was being honest with him. Then she nodded as if she knew the conclusion he’d come to and gave the command for her bird to start moving. They rode near the back of her army, though not quite with the support staff.

Before they reached the city buildings began to burn. The flames reflected in Nevets’s glass eyes, his vision blurred and swirling black and white. There was another beauty in the flames, one of contrast like the young and old buildings, the green and brown before. It was a contrast of motion, the leaves in the breeze and the flames making their own wind. Something about the sight reminded him of what Nagemai had asked back at Ekivia’s place, although he didn’t know why it did.

Would you not do the same to me given the chance?

In that moment he knew he would do the same.

And the more he got to know this enemy, the more he saw how similar they were, the more he wanted his answer to change.

**********

Fosia leaned back in her chair at her desk, watching the interrogation room lazily as she waited for Iakedrom to come out. Her most recent round with Esile hadn’t gone much better than the previous ones. She claimed to only know who Ekivia was, but not to know her personally. She was very interested in the claim that Ekivia’s skin had done the same as her own to Iakedrom’s prosthetic, but Fosia couldn’t get anything out of her about the process or how Ekivia might have done it too. Her best hope was that Iakedrom had had better luck with Ekivia.

A calling bird squawked from Iakedrom’s desk, and she looked at it. It could be someone calling about their investigations, some expert or other maybe. That would be useful, but she didn’t really feel like getting up just yet. Talking to Esile was exhausting.

The bird stopped its squawking and almost at the same time Iakedrom and Nailil left the interrogation room. His hands were slick with brown-black life oil, and his expression was twisted with anger and disgust. As soon as the door closed behind him he seemed to deflate, his legs and hands beginning to shake, and he walked unsteadily to his desk and sank into his chair with Nailil close behind.

Fosia stood and grabbed her emergency kit from the cubby on her desk and approached him.

“You alright?” Fosia said, handing him a cloth to clean up the oil on his hands.

Iakedorm took the cloth and shook his head, his eyes a sickly blend of disgust and sorrow.

“I take it things didn’t go so well in there,” Fosia said.

“That’s an understatement,” Nailil said, eyes and tone red with anger. “I should have taken over as soon as I got here instead of letting you handle things.”

Iakedrom glared up at the priestess, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he looked to Fosia. “Did Esile say anything about working with Ekivia?”

“Nothing,” Fosia said. “She claims to know who Ekivia is, but not to know her personally. I have no idea if she’s lying or not though.”

Iakedrom nodded, and he swallowed so hard she could see it happen, and his face twisted in a disgusted expression. He turned and grabbed the waste basket beside the desk, resting it on his lap only a moment before his body heaved and he vomited. Oil and water and slag swirled with chunks of iron-pod, fruit, and even a little meat. Not all diordna liked meat, and they didn’t really need to eat it as plant and pod matter gave them all the materials their body needed for energy and self-repair, but it wasn’t bad for them either. Fosia liked having some herself, on occasion, though not as often as Iakedrom.

Nailil glared at Iakedrom. “What a waste of time. I’m taking over. You obviously don’t have what it takes to get the answers we need.”

Iakedrom glared back at her, but just as he was about to respond his body heaved again and his words were buried in slag. Nailil’s eyes yellowed with disgust and she left the two of them to go speak with the house commander, who’d just come through the front door.

Fosia felt her mouth curl, her nose wrinkle, her eyes yellowing as the tangy scent of slag reached her nose. It smelled a little like burning diordna, only blended with something else she couldn’t quite put words to, almost like the scent of plant decay.

“Damn Ekivia,” Iakedorm whispered under his breath.

“She’s a stubborn one,” Fosia said. “I’m guessing you didn’t get any more answers from her this time.”

“None,” Iakedrom said. “Says she doesn’t know Esile at all, but there’s a lot she isn’t telling us. I can’t tell what’s truth and lie anymore. Seems she and Esile are a pair that way.”

“So what exactly happened in there?” Fosia asked. She had her suspicions, but she didn’t want to jump to any conclusions either.

“Ekivia didn’t cooperate,” Iakedorm said. “Obviously. Nailil was going to take charge, which would have meant more torture. I tried not to let it happen but she was insistent. I…decided that if I did it instead then I could be sure it wasn’t as bad. It was the only thing I could think to do to…”

Iakedrom trailed off as someone came through the back entrance to the building, towing a prisoner behind them.

“Is that Elyk?” Fosia asked.

“It is,” Iakedrom said. “Looks like things are finally moving forward.”

Elyk was a quiet officer, but they knew him from the search team sent to Ekivia’s place. He glanced around, almost looking nervous, as he approached Iakedrom’s desk. Fosia looked at the prisoner and was surprised to see a Verd.

“Is that Mada?” Iakedrom asked, setting the garbage bin he’d thrown up into down where the officer and prisoner wouldn’t see it.

“It…” Elyk began.

“I am,” the Verd said, raising his chin proudly. “Where’s Ekivia?”

Iakedrom ignored him, looking to Fosia instead. “No wonder she didn’t want to tell us who Mada was.”

Fosia nodded. “Treachery is definitely something worth hiding. And if she’s a spy that would explain why she’s so good at lying. Why didn’t you call ahead and tell us? Iakedrom could have used this information sooner. And what about Nevets?”

“We…” Elyk began, then swallowed. “We haven’t caught Nevets yet, but we thought it would be best to show you M-Mada instead of calling to tell you.”

“Is everything alright?” Iakedrom asked. “You seem off.”

Elyk shook his head. “I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

He didn’t meet their eyes as he spoke, it seemed as though he was looking for someone else in the room.

Iakedrom’s bird squawked and all their eyes turned toward it.

“Can you answer that?” Iakedrom asked, waving for Nailil to join him as he stood and took the rope leash tied to Mada’s wrists. “I want to get back in with Ekivia now that we have Mada here. I think he could provide some good leverage.”

“Sure,” Fosia said. “But you’ll owe me for playing secretary.”

“Of course,” Iakedrom said, smiling. He seemed in better spirits already, which Fosia was glad to see. They were making progress, despite the bad round of questioning he’d just had with Ekivia.

Fosia pressed her finger horizontally across the calling bird’s chest and it stepped up onto it, then she took the creature to her own desk and sat down, placing it in front of her. She didn’t want to be close to the slag scent at Iakedrom’s desk while she spoke.

Nailil joined Iakedrom partway to the interrogation room as she put a finger on the bird’s foot and answered the call.

"Iakedrom? Sir... please answer?" The na’s voice shook frantically as he spoke.

“I hear you,” Fosia said, brow furrowing at the tone. “Is something wrong? Did you find Nevets?”

“Thank Dytie,” the na breathed. “I couldn’t reach the commander and I didn’t know who else to call…”

He sounded like he was weeping.

“It’s alright, just calm down and tell me your name,” Fosia said. The more she heard the tremble in his voice the more concerned she became, and if he didn’t calm down he’d never say anything useful. “Can you do that?”

“I’m officer Kered,” the na said. “I’m still at Ekivia’s place.”

“Alright Kered,” Fosia said. All the officers were trained in this kind of conversation, trained to calm distraught diordna. Generally, they had these conversations with regular citizens, not officers. “What’s wrong?”

"The others were killed.” The officer said, speaking more calmly, though obviously with effort. “Our mounts were taken. I hid in the secret room or I’d be dead too. Dytie have mercy.”

Fosia stood and lifted the bird off the desk, beginning to move toward the Iakedrom and Nailil. The officers nearby had paused to look toward her, and Nailil was staring at her, eyes slowly widening as though she knew what Kered would say before he spoke the words. "Explain to me what happened. Who killed the others? Nevets?"

“A damned Verd army!" The bird shouted, and other officers in the room looked up at her. "They came hours ago but I had no way to reach you until now."

Fosia froze in her tracks. “That can’t be right... how would they—”

"I don’t know but they did!” Silence spread outward through the room from where Fosia stood as more and more officers took notice of her conversation.

"Calm down." She said, as much for the fear-filled eyes in the room as for the survivor. "Find someplace safe and I'll contact you when I have orders."

Iakedrom was rushing to the interrogation room now, dragging Mada with him, but Nailil stayed behind and Fosia thought she heard the priestess whisper something, though in the moment she barely noticed the words. “They’re early.”

"Have they started their attack?” Kered said, desperation clear in the mimicked tone of the calling bird. “Was I too slow?"

"They haven’t. You got to us in time. Good work Kered." She lifted her finger from the calling bird and met the commander’s eyes across the room. She’d heard enough to know what had to be done.

The entire world was in a pale white haze, and she saw the same in the eyes around her. The room was silent for the first time in days.

“They could be here any minute,” commander Vinek shouted to the room. “Arm yourselves, and—“

Mada interrupted her with a shrill whistle and all eyes turned toward him.

A deafening bang rattled the building as the front doors crashed inward, colliding with the commander and throwing oil into the air as it smashed her into the gourd.

A massive black battering bird, its beak as big as a diordna’s chest, reared its head back to allow Verd soldiers past it and into the officer’s house. The Verd army had arrived, and Fosia had a strange thought. She’d lied to Kered earlier.

He had been too late.