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[>>Now replaying: Log 1.17 - Hashashin’s Deed]

Date: Error

Location: Zephyro’s Domain?

//Everything is true

Nothing is permitted.//

[>>DATA CORRUPTED]

E1 %You don’t know the Torchbearer?%

E3 %How am I supposed to know? Who’s supposed to teach me?%

E2 %Fair enough.%

E1 %Sorry, Tin.%

E2 %Anyway, she was an evil Witch who almost broke the entire world.%

E1 %Oh come on, Pina. That’s not true! She tried to help us, and we killed her for it.%

E2 %Help us? Really? Is that why she made the Ferals?%

E3 %She made the Ferals? Did she also make the other machines?%

Grimacing at the fading vision, I opened my robe a little and stuffed the glowing cube of Essence inside. It was a little uncomfortable but didn’t dig into my skin as much as I feared. I wasn’t too worried about basically carrying around the stuff these animals were after. The Shackled already thought I was tasty, apparently, so a little more spice wouldn’t hurt.

“Sultana, why are you taking that essence?” Zephyro asked. “I would be much more comfortable if you left it behind, for if it breaks, it might corrupt you.”

I shook my head, gesturing at the Militia scrambling to pick up as many cubes as they could. Despite their best efforts, many prisms were left unclaimed. “We shouldn’t leave our enemy more resources than absolutely necessary.”

> “Gather what food you can, kill all the livestock, burn down the barns. Then take everyone prisoner who looks as though they might put up a fight, come after us, or tell the Mages where we’ve gone.”

> “Don’t have space on the wagons,” Underbrook says. “They’ll slow us down.”

> He is stating an objective fact, and I know he doesn’t mean to suggest anything by the way he says it. He isn’t the sort of person who would make those sorts of decisions.

> That would be me.

> Something soft and weak settles screams deep inside my soul. My breaths are shallow.

> Before it can ruin us all, I drown that softness with anger.

> “Conscript anyone who hates the Mages as much as we do. Let Patti take them ahead. Once she’s gone, take everyone else to the temple. Tell them it’s so they can pray, or something. Get Zurne and Tuyk to help you, make sure no one escapes.”

> I take another shuddering breath.

> “Then lock the doors and—“

No.

I remembered flashes of fire, and unending rage.

I shook my head, desperately shoving the images away.

They taunted me, unfinished, and yet I didn’t want to follow them to the end.

It was just lies. It was all just a big, fat, lie.

“Sultana?” Zephyro pressed through gritted teeth, still so caring.

“Just a headache,” I lied and forced a weak smile. “We’ve been at this for some time.”

Despite everything, his arms shaking and sweat soaking his tunic, the Vizier laughed. “Indeed, Sultana. It is time for us to rest a little.”

“Sure,” I said. “We can rest in the carriage, once you release that shield and we can go.”

I was brimming with the need to run, to fight, just to get away from the memories. The Militia were as ready as they could be, waiting at the border of the shield still streaming from Zephyro’s quavering hand.

And yet, Zephyro hesitated.

“It’s going to start the second the shield drops, isn’t it?” I asked quietly.

Zephyro nodded. “Most… likely, Sultana.”

“Do it,” I said, softly taking the burden of responsibility off his shoulders, and putting them onto mine. It was a familiar feeling, like a heavy mantle of thick cotton, soaked with blood and tears until its weight doubled, and doubled again.

Zephyro closed his eyes and with a yell of frustrated rage, he let his hand drop.

The shield flickered, then faded to nothing.

And so, immediately, it began.

Screams filled the air like smoke, thick and frightening, as violence erupted around us. At least five of our militia died in less than a second. Before they could even take their first step, their chests caved in, their heads were torn from their necks, or their blood and Essence spilled from their guts. Some of our soldiers, either brave or foolish, stopped in their tracks, trying to see how they could help. But there was nothing to see. Proud citizens died screaming, slain by invisible forces that didn’t so much as make a sound.

“Vile hashashin…” Zephyro muttered, mouth agape.

I said nothing, just grabbed him by the shoulder and started running. As always, he followed without question, his hesitation broken. That was good because I only had a vague idea of where I was going. The Vizier had told me where the carriage was waiting, but the battle had gotten me turned around more than once.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

I reached a nearby alleyway and after coming to a panting halt in its relative safety, I turned back for just a moment. “Where to?”

The Vizier pointed to a street to my right, just as I spotted Alkashafa-14 making a run for another nearby backstreet. She caught me looking and, still holding her orb, saluted with a big grin before something punched a fist-sized hole in her chest, painting the walls red and cyan blue.

“Let’s go!” I had to scream the words. Had to use them to tear open my throat as it constricted, or else I was sure I’d never be able to breathe again. Zephyro must have seen the terror in my eyes and tried to turn around to see what had happened, but I couldn’t let him see her body as it slumped to the ground, couldn’t have him watch her face go from smile to confusion to panic to resignation to nothing, I had to keep running, we had to keep running, we couldn’t stop, so I grabbed him again and screamed “Go! Go! Go!” as I turned and ran, desperately fighting against that trembling feeling of powerlessness that tried to take roots in my heart.

If only I could have seen, I could have saved her.

If only I could have been better.

If only I wasn’t so weak.

The thoughts felt hauntingly familiar, like a worn-out bed in a seedy basement, only seen in the flickering blacks and screeching whites of recovered security camera footage.

I briefly thought of the clearing, but the mood did not match that memory. There wasn’t just terrified despair like back then, it was anger as well, a terrible serpent biting its own tail, over and over. Where had I felt that before, if not there?

I pushed the thoughts away. They just wanted to trap me. They weren’t important.

“How far?” I asked, panting as I ran.

“The next street to the left,” Zephyro said, voice quavering as well.

The next street to our left was a raging inferno.

“Fuck!” I said as I came to a halt.

“Indeed, Sultana,” Zephyro snarled. He came too close to the flames, and a spout of fire pushed him back.

I thought of the Ferals that had slipped through our defenses. My trip to the palace had just become a lot more dangerous. If Kasha hadn’t convinced Zephyro to stay by my side…

Grimacing, I took a step away from the fire.

“Where can we find another carriage?” I asked, but the Vizier shook his head.

“There are none, Sultana. You must understand that movement in a Domain is not the same as it is in the Real. We do not need carriages, for we can cross the entire distance of the city in but a few moments. You will be able to do the same, once you have claimed your throne.”

“Which is going to be damn hard with no way to get there!” I snapped. I wanted to ask how that made any sort of sense, how he wanted to make me believe that sort of bullshit. Then I realized what I really wanted was for Kasha to explain it to me. To see her safe. To not feel like an impotent failure.

“Sorry,” I said, calming myself in a massive effort of will. I would have given my left arm to have Patti here with me. Or Chris.

“Fuck, Chris…” I whispered. If they had been here, they would already have figured out a way out of this nightmare.

“What about the Maker, Sultana? Do you think they would be able to help?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Chrissiin. The Maker.”

I snorted a laugh. I couldn’t help it. “Chris? Chris is who they used as the ‘maker’ for this Dream? Oh God, these Mages think they are hilarious, don’t they?”

Then, with all the heat vanishing from my limbs, I noticed what I just said. I stared at Zephyro in horror and waited for his face to explode into tentacles, for the fire to turn into a monster that would eat me alive, for the walls to smash together, crushing me as the Vizier laughed.

And I waited.

And waited.

And all that happened was that Zephyro looked at me like he did before. His deep, brown eyes filled with equal amounts of admiration and pity, laced with another emotion I couldn’t quite make out. Fear, perhaps?

“Sultana…” he began. “This is not a dream.”

“I know,” I lied, quickly. “Sorry, I just meant…” But there was no way to twist my words. I tried, and fumbled, and finally just said the first thing that came to mind. “Forget it, please.”

Zephyro said nothing for a worrying second, but then he nodded. Inwardly, I sighed with relief. I’d managed to keep the dream stable for a bit longer, and it had been easy, too. All it took was to deny an obvious truth.

“Still, it would be nice if Chris was here. They’d see things that we can’t,” I said, steering the conversation into safer waters. “But they aren’t, and so we need to run.”

“A wise plan, Sultana,” Zephyro said.

“How far, do you think?” I asked.

He frowned for a while and the fire drew deep lines into his face. “We are still in the Market Quarter, the outermost ring of the city proper. We wanted to expand, of course. Build a second wall, you see, but… ahw, la yuhimm.” He shook his head before he went on.

“It will take us but a couple of minutes to reach Trader’s Rest, but crossing that will take some time, for it is our largest quarter by far. The Ring of Wisdom, with all its spires, and the Mercantile, where the richest citizens live, are both much smaller. It will take us half as long to make our way through both before we reach the Palace Square. All in all, I think we are maybe looking at a couple of hours, in Domaintime.”

I turned back the way we had come, scanning the street for threats, but there was nothing to be seen. Obviously.

“God, this will suck,” I grunted. “Moving through a burning city, facing an invisible enemy? I mean, fuck, they could be here right now, standing right behind us, and we wouldn’t know.”

Zephyro finally looked away from the flames. “Indeed, Sultana. If I know anything about the Shackled and the humans that control them, I would say your gambit has worked, however. They think they have us cornered, and so they think they have all the time in the world.”

I didn’t tell him that my ‘gambit’ felt more like sacrificing people so I could run away. But no. It would be worth it.

“That way, then?” I asked, pointing to the other end of the street.

“Indeed, Sultana. I will lead the way,” Zephyro said and immediately followed his words with actions. I thought about the invisible enemies, that he would definitely run into them first, and that there was nothing I could do about it.

If only I had my damn Wish. There was still only emptiness where it should have rested, ready to follow my will.

“Fuck, I still wish Chris was here,” I said as I fell in beside the Vizier.

“It would be a great boon indeed, Sultana. Our sacred texts say that while you gave us life, they gave us substance to hold it.”

“That sounds about right,” I said. Chris and I were an amazing team. They would grab some of my memories, reverse engineer whatever I had seen, and then I’d infuse that with my Wish to fill in the gaps. We’d done it thousands of times, and I missed the thrill of creating something the world had never seen.

I didn’t know why Chris showed up in Zephyro’s chronicles. Perhaps the Mage Lords didn’t know Chris left me. They always tried to paint me as a Witch, liar, or tyrant, but perhaps they missed the time when I had been an even bigger asshole than usual, and driven one of my closest friends away. How ironic.

“The texts also say that the Maker went to rest with you, Sultana and that they watch over us to this day,” Zephyro added. I flinched, expecting a painful memory, but it seemed his tone was too friendly to open that old wound.

I imagined sleeping next to Chris again, waking up and seeing their face. Teasing them about inviting over Stax and Lorelye.

“So the Maker is with us?” I asked, and I couldn’t help but make the honorific sound a little facetious, despite our situation. Thinking about my friends always did that. Pulled me out of the deepest holes.

“They are, Sultana.”

“So if I say ‘Hey Chris, I really need to see those damn Shackled and Ferals again, can you make that happen?’ they are just going to—“

My vision flickered for a second. Like in a heist movie, when they exchanged one camera feed for a pre-recorded loop.

I chuckled at the coincidence, and even though Zephyro gave me a bemused look as he waited for me to continue the sentence, I kept giggling until I heard the faint clatter of mechanical legs creeping up behind me.