V5: Chapter 5

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Interlude: Alistair

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Belford returned within the Ancient vessel. Under normal circumstances, he would return within a day after using it, but the damnable upstart's transports ensured that he needed to make sure that he was not followed.

Still, despite all the efforts of the upstart and the Conquerors, Belford returned.

And, he would not have returned, if he was not successful in his mission.

The Ancient craft, secret of the Academy for hundreds of years and carefully maintained throughout those centuries, opened its hatch at its rear and the ramp opened. My spymaster came forth, a writhing mass of shadow thanks to his family's secrets, and he bowed in my presence.

"The deed is done. The Conquerors' greater Champion has been infected and deployed to their capital." I had sent him with sixteen skilled warriors. More than half were Conqueror mercenaries. All armed with the finest equipment we could muster. None of them were present. The hold of the transport was covered in the aftermath of battle. Blood, some shards of bone, and scorch marks. "The price was heavy, but the men died holding him for sedation."

"Their sacrifice will be remembered." I had few assets at my disposal now. To ensure that the rest stayed in line, I needed to be careful in the treatment of those who remained with the Academy. The enemies we faced were many and we had few friends. Even now, we moved in the shadows and in secret as our home was portioned and pillaged by monsters and those who pretend not to be. "Crusher is dead?"

"In his hands is a weapon of the Ancient's greatest foes. Masters of flesh and mind and spirit. Even the mage we had present to hold it with magic lost his battle against it. I killed him myself." Belford followed me as I reached the land crawler. We traversed the hidden roads of the Ancients, where many monsters remained. From above we sourced supplies, but down here we searched for power. Power that would return us to the height of our Empire. Belford calmed as we entered my chariot, and his shadows faded. His work took much from him and I did not fault him for his weakness in my presence. His work was next to impossible. "The Conquerors will fall to it. The surrounding nations will find themselves plagued by corruption. As you have planned, we will seize their Citadel in the chaos."

"Good." I entered the small, cramped room that was deemed my office and Belford followed. Few were allowed in my space, but if I could not trust him then I could trust no other. The small desk that I used jutted from the wall, my books lay beneath a cot that extended from the wall as well. The Ancients had created this metal behemoth for the sake of efficiency. To flee and hide in the underground of the continent, not to house people. "Here. Take your reward."

With one hand I gave him gold and with the other I bared my wrist and cut my hand.

He fell to one knee, allowing the heavy fortune to fall, and caught my hand to drink of my blood.

The shadows he called upon deepened, as I felt my vitality fade, and my life wither away. My bones ached, my strength in my limbs faded, a deep coldness unlike formed in my very self, and my vision blackened at the edges. Thrice I have fed Belford, and each time my life decreased by half of a decade. My father and his father before him only had to rely upon their Belford once in their lives, but I will be doing so many times in the future. All I had left to truly give was my life in exchange for the Academy's continued existence.

But for the return of the Academy, I would pay any price.

Belford finished supping upon my soul and stood stronger than his father or his father's father. An ancient warning from my lineage came to mind. If they became too strong, if they drank from us too much, then they could rebel and overtake us. I would have to mindful of such things, but according to records that would take more than ten feedings.

I would perish at eight, and I have already given three.

"My master, what is your next command?" There was a deeper tenor to his voice. A rumbling that denoted power and strength. I felt weak. Stories and tales from my past came forth. That Belford and his kin were not the Vampires that ruled over the Undead amongst the Guardians, but something more primal and terrifying. Such concerns, however, would have to wait. I had years left to spend and much needed to be done. "Your wish is my command."

"Taking the Citadel from the Conquerors means nothing if we cannot hold it. We need to bolster our numbers. There are many bandits and petty thugs out there now. Gather them, while I do my own work." I did not sit idle as Belford did his duty. I devoted myself to finding swarms of monsters and their ilk, as well as exits through the underground passageways. The plan was to simply lead the creatures up and out throughout the lands surrounding the Conquerors, which would deter our foes until we assembled a force that can hold against what is to come. "Tell your subordinates to keep an eye on the Citadel. I am sure that upstart will be doing something to try and salvage the situation."

Belford dipped his head in fealty and acknowledgement of my orders, but paused before he left to do as I asked.

"Should I make an attempt at killing that boy?"

I grimaced at the question.

"No. His plans benefit us too much, and I cannot risk losing you." The upstart destabilized the whole continent and his actions could be said to have directly led to the Academy's downfall. However, in the end it was the Scholars who felled us when we attempted to take their Citadel, and they were destroyed in turn for their barbaric strategies. No. As inflated the child's moniker was, I could not deny his efficacy in rulership. The famine has barely mattered due to his plans and actions, the continent was at peace and growing in strength to fight the battles to come, and he looked decades ahead. Felling him would make our prospects worse… and that is if Belford managed to succeed. "Focus on your task. Do as I have bid. If I deem the risk worth the reward, you shall be given the assignment."

"As you wish."

And, with those words, Belford faded into the shadows… and I sighed as I noticed his disappearance.

I needed a contingency plan for him, yet I needed him for even the slightest chance of reviving the Academy.

Work never ceased, time never abated, and the challenges that I faced continued to stack atop one another.

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Still, so long as I breathed, I would not rest until I brought the Academy back to existence.

No matter the cost.

…

Do Americans have a racial bonus towards aviation?

I'm saying that because I'm still constantly being surprised by how flying shipping containers pulled by winged horses are paying off.

Should I be giving offerings to the Wright brother or something?

"Jack, you're getting distracted. That's dangerous!" Morgan's call brought me out of my brief state of fugue. She had to yell at me, since we were flying through the air. Several pilots were too tired to fly properly, so some replacements had to be made during the airlift. Unfortunately, people have seen me pilot one before, so I couldn't delegate it away. Morgan, meanwhile, replaced the mage that would be casting Float and other spells to keep the shipping container flying behind us. "How far are we?"

"Nearly there! The landing strip's right there!" Thankfully, we managed to get a messenger through to the people inside the Citadel. Some keen-eyed observer spotted our man and opened up the side of the Citadel via its control ring, and after that they went ahead and manipulated the structure more to create a landing strip on the side of the massive tower. Yeah. It's as dangerous to land on as it sounds. "Ayah, need you here for the landing!"

"On it." Ayah moved from her spot on the 'back' of the transport section where she was doing all the signaling to the rest of the ones flying behind us. We had a tight window to land, get people aboard, and take off again. 15-minute intervals. We managed via stacking and staggering flights in three lines. We were trying to pull off a Berlin Airlift with flying horses, basically. Anyway, Ayah took over the reigns and the ride smoothed out. Flying was hard. The horses were strong and pulled like crazy on the arms. Landing was a whole different beast entirely. One that I might manage. "We need to keep things clear back there."

"Yeah, on it." I grunted and got ready to clamber over past the seat. I swallowed the deep feeling of fear in my gut as I saw an endless blue sky all around the top of the shipping-container sized, hollow container pulled by our horses. I knew from experience that it was stable, that there was a bubble protecting it from turbulence and wind. That walking along it was fine and easy, but I still had to grit my teeth and walk to the back and man the signal flags on the back. There were just three. If all there were up, everything went as planned. Two meant slow. One up meant abort. "How much longer do we have!?"

"Now!" Ayah cried out the hooves of the flying horses hit the runway. Both Morgan and I clambered to pull up the siding of the cargo containers. Ayah stood up from her place at the driver's position as we slowed down. "Get in! Hurry! Twenty to a transport. Leave everything behind! Go! Go!"

The landing strip on the side of the Citadel was suddenly filled with the sound of movement, of massive feet moving forward. This cargo container can fit fifty humans squeezed in tightly, but the average Conqueror was larger and heavier. Being bioengineered super soldiers meant a lot of mass in all that dense muscle and near-indestructible bone and redundant organs.

We could only hope that things didn't go sour, that they followed directions as they went in, because we couldn't afford any more losses.

We've already lost five from the three previous trips and this was our last.

Not just a hundred dead, but also a hundred people we couldn't get out for each round of return.

"We're full! Get ready!" Morgan cried out, and the sidings closed. If the situation were less serious, I'd think the sight of so many massive people stuck in one box would be funny. As it was, I was wondering if they packed themselves in too much and would cause our demise. I did my best to not look at the flying horses, but I heard them from here. A lot of them were going to be crippled by these flights, and it was going to cost a lot to replace them… but we needed these guys evacuated. "I need your aid, Jack!"

"I know, I know!" I grunted. This was usually beyond my ability. Making a puddle of water or flash of light was my speed. Low level, trash spells. The most I've ever carried with Float was the strike team against the Scholars. This was an order of magnitude more heavy. My heart started pumping hard as I concentrated and fed the spell with that 'inner flame' that magic stemmed from. If normal mages had a bonfire thanks to training, I had a small fireplace's worth. It's just my lot in the world to not have much magic, but still… twenty lives, my own, Morgan's, and Ayah were in my hands, so I pushed through. "Go!"

I cast it, the transport lifted up, and Ayah cracked the whips.

Wind blew past us, we were rocked by the sudden burst of speed, while Morgan cast her own set of magics more complex than mine. Mages dedicated their lives to magic. Those who entered this service were trained in casting their spells perfectly… without any pressure, with breaks, and not on the side of a massive tower billowing with wind.

The teams manning my transports were at their breaking point.

This was going to be the last trip of the day and the Citadel wasn't even half empty. Forty thousand Conquerors lived in their capital. The vast majority had evacuated to surrounding areas, while ten thousand took refuge in the Citadel. Twenty Conquerors to a transport, four rounds of flights, just shy of seventy transports pulled as quickly as possible to our location... we were only managing to get little less than five thousand out and we wore ourselves out in the process.

But I realized that during the first trip and made my peace with it, and so did the Conquerors.

We took off the short runway with the last batch… the last of the women and children.

The rest of them?

Those we couldn't get out?

They were going to become part of the army of corrupted that we were going to have to face when we came down on the city in force.

I looked back as the last set of flights started to fly in, while we rode back to safety encased in Morgan's arcane protections, which were freshly learned and mastered just hours ago.

The next time I come back to this city, with my transports, I'll be burning most of it to the ground with armies following behind.

Sorry.

I can't save you all.

But I'll make the bastards who did this pay.