1 Day to the Falling

One could still be alone surrounded by thousands.

I stood in the mustering field, about a mile outside the city. Around me, thousands of feet struck the ground in steady rhythm. The ground vibrated slightly from the coordinated movement. The tiny sounds of each man moving—foot on ground, clink of armor, rattle of weapons, rasp of cloth on cloth—became a loud hum when multiplied by the legion.

The army was divided into three groups. Each group would form a train with one of Magneblade, Chowwick, or me leading it to our intended campsite. Tara would remain in the Tower until the next day. She was the Arrow and overwhelmingly the fastest of us. When the Oracle declared the location of the Falling Field, Tara would join us, and we would move again.

Alya was not to accompany us. Scepters rarely took the field. They were too physically vulnerable, too strategically valuable, to take out into the chaos of the Falling. It was a practice observed by all the cities, and thus none were disadvantaged without their Scepter. If a city gained keys and was in position to compete for Locked Orbs, or the Crown, then no holds were barred, and the Scepters were often summoned. Maybe if a city was truly desperate, the Scepter might be deployed later in the Falling Season.

So I stood as thousands of men arranged their formations around me, as thousands prepared to trust their very existence to my proper handling of the twisting strands of Order that I needed to bend around us to form the Footfield.

Enki? I thought loudly.

“Yes, kiddo?” the voice hummed in my ear as though it had been waiting.

We need to talk. We haven’t had much time to talk.

The voice was a little slower, a little more suspicious. “Talk about what exactly, kid? Exciting stuff this, leading an army. To think how short a time ago you were just a kid with a dream—now you’re Commander in Chief! You nearly lost that. I think Balty wouldn’t have minded if you had; it would have given him an opening for his grand designs. Doesn’t matter much, I think it suits him just as well for you to take the traditional role. He wasn’t cray-cray when he agreed that the three old sods would be your counsel though. I fancy you’ll make out pretty well, but as boring as those fucks are, they’ve been ‘round the block a few times. They’ll be worth checking in with. I won’t be much help—I know next to nothing about tactics and armies. Think about that! I’ve existed for generations, but I’ve never really paid attention to—”

You’re rambling. Are you trying to filibuster me?

“I’m not! How very dare you! I was just enjoying a chance to make conversation with my good friend and ally, Tibby. Why, I’m so outraged, I think I should compare this to every other accusation I’ve been subjected to over the course of history. Here, I’ll list them out so you’ll have context for the comparison. The first was—”

I really need to talk.

The voice stopped. I was almost waiting for it to flee my suit to avoid the conversation. It was a fickle thing, and that wouldn’t seem out of character to me. I was powerless to stop it. But even if it disappeared, it would be back, and I would force parley eventually.

But it didn’t flee. Instead, after a few long curious moments, it said, “Oh, alright, go on then.”

I know your name now. You’re Enki.

The voice said, “All you know is that Danefer called me that. He’s crazy. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s mad as shit. He could be talking all kinds of rubbish.”

I smiled. You answered to Enki for me. You haven’t corrected or denied it. You can’t lie. Is your name Enki?

The voice said, “I mightn’t be able to lie, but I don’t have to answer shit.”

Then deny it. Tell me your name isn’t Enki.

The voice said, “You can’t make me say or do anything. I’m not your puppet.”

I waited a few long beats. Then I thought loudly, employing a questioning tone to my thoughts. Enki? You there still, Enki?

The voice said, “Yeah… Oh shit. Fine, fucking fine. I’m Enki. Are you happy with that? Has that made your fucking week?”

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You didn’t want me to know your name. Why is that? Will I find it recorded in old histories? Is it a name I’ll be able to link to nefarious deeds of old?

Enki said, “Like… well… we’ll see, I guess. I’m not going to point you in any directions, but there might be times when I’ll need to give you a little context if you are completely determined to keep on with that boring reading.”

I let another pause settle. The next question was one that had been rolling around in my mind for hours. It was a question I was almost afraid to ask. I didn’t know what kind of response I would provoke. I didn’t know if I was prepared to hear the answer.

Enki, did you form an Entropy Storm in the basement of the arena to create a fiend to kill me?

I imagined stunned silence. Then a very, overly sincere tone in response: “No. I can categorically, emphatically tell you that I one hundred percent did not. I can’t lie. You can take that to the bank and sleep on it.”

But there was a moment during the fight when you spoke of acting too hastily. What were the odds of the fiend just appearing there? It’s been bugging me, and when I put it all together…

Enki said, “Kiddo, I need you. I promise, on my twisted little soul, that I didn’t create a demon to destroy you.”

Then how did it form? It goes beyond coincidence. There was intent behind that.

The voice said, “I don’t have to answer that. But I’m afraid that if I don’t tell you something, you’ll continue to twist your tiny little brain around the question and keep suspecting me. I’m going to tell you something. I’m going to tell you this because I want us to trust each other, and I don’t want you to have lingering questions about me.”

Wearily, I thought, If you really wanted that, then you would more openly answer all my questions instead of picking and choosing what scraps of information to share with me.

If a voice could roll its eyes, then that would describe Enki’s tone. “We’ve been over this, kid. I have things I need to protect. If I answer everything, then I become vulnerable to you. Look how I’ve been hurt before. Look at Joel and Danny-boy roaming around trying to fuck me up. You realize they were my pals once too? We used to chit-chat like this and kill stuff and bang chicks together. Now they’re spending their twilight years trying to destroy me. I got trust issues. Now, you want my info or not?”

Fine.

Enki said, “I’ve told you I’m part of the Oracle but that I’m also separate, right?”

Yeah.

“Well, it kind of stands to reason that there could be other entities like me, right? Other disembodied intelligences that float in the void of the Griid without bodies? Right?”

Right… the thought hadn’t really occurred to me, but I found the possibility suddenly chilling.

“Well, if you must do your reading, you’ll find references to voices in the past. Voices that have spoken to others—other Griidlords, but mortals too. Priests in particular, sometimes lords, who hear voices that tell them things and get them to do shit. Some of it is pretty nefarious shit.

“There is a cult out there right now, in the wilds, hiding from the Church and the various powers that be. They worship a being they call Aos. They seem to think they can commune with Aos. And they believe Aos can craft fiends and control Entropy Storms.”

Is… Are they right? Is there a real Aos?

Enki said, “I don’t want to be too explicit. Aos isn’t the only being you can find with rumors like that attached to it. There are other cults, have been other cults. I’ll be totally honest, I don’t want to explicitly say something that you can use against me at a later date that will force me to either go quiet or reveal things about myself that I don’t want you to know. But I think you’ll find some answers if you find out more about Aos.”

If Aos is out there, why would Aos want to destroy me?

The very idea that something like a God existed that wanted to see me destroyed, the very idea that a being capable of making fiends and directing Entropy Storms might have a grudge against me, made me go cold. I was a Griidlord, and I was starting to form that sense of invincibility that came with being, well, almost invincible. But there had been fiends in the past that could destroy armies. Cleveland had been torn down, Tower and all, by an Entropy Storm. There were powers out there far vaster and more terrifying than any suit of armor could protect a human against.

Enki said, “That’s for you to find out, kiddo. Oh, look, here comes your friend’s dad. I think it’s time to get rolling.”

Lance Sr. was riding toward me. Looking around, I realized that the army had stopped marching. The rows of men were lined up and prepared to march. Lord Darkwater was armored spectacularly. He wore plate and bore a power weapon. Everything shined and cried out to the world that it was of exceeding expense. His war mount was one of the most spectacular I had ever seen. It was almost unbelievably huge and bore elaborate armor of its own.

Darkwater said, “The army awaits, Lord Bloodsword. I believe it’s time for us to march. Deploy the Footfield.”

It wasn’t lost on me that he gave me an imperative. It had been agreed in the War Council that I would remain Commander of the army, as was tradition. But it had been conditioned and elaborated that decisions would pass through the three nobles on the council. They were de facto commanders. Darkwater had taken every opportunity since to tell me directly what to do. He always dressed it in respect.

I didn’t doubt there was bitterness there. In another existence, it would have been his son standing in the suit as we marched out to death and glory.

I tried not to care. He was a petty little bastard, and I was the Sword. I wasn’t bound to him or anyone. I existed to serve the city.

I reached out and grasped the strands of Order, winding them around the vast force. The Footfield formed, and we began to march.

The Falling loomed. Soon, I felt, I would meet my real destiny.