I sighed deeply, as Maya carefully rolled my wheelchair down the steps of the main council hall, the wheels clacking on every step down.
My eyes scrunched instinctively, as I clutched my forehead with my right hand. Unfortunately, that just shot another bout of pain through my body, as the cold heat from earlier steadily dissipated.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have pushed yourself so much, don’tcha think?” Maya prodded indignantly.
I glanced guiltily back towards Thistleman, the subtle remains of smeared black blood darkened his cheek like mud.
“And you,” Maya continued prior to a quick interruption.
“Think she did just fine. Who the hell do they think they are to question her like that?” Thistle shot back.
“I- What? He’s the chief minister, but that’s not my point!” Maya’s face did a weird dance into some strange form of complex, confused expressions. “No, seriously though, what the hell is your problem? And what makes you think you know more than the chief minister about demons and… what were they… daemons? And for you to show such blatant disrespect? People have been beheaded for less!” Maya ranted on.
“Hypocrite.” I muttered grouchily, pouting with much consternation, distracting myself from the brewing cat-and-dog fight. Truth be told, I couldn’t let go of the conversation that just happened either. It filled me with unease, and I wanted to drive that feeling as far away as possible.
I mean… the questions made sense. After all, I had the same questions. Why did she let us live? I know I have nothing to do with her, so why? And then there was the other problem…
“Do you really think the demons will come to attack Njord?” I asked Thistle softly, with a slight tinge of guilt. The question silenced the both of them, like a pair of cats looking in surprise when their owned walked in the room to catch them shredding the toilet paper.
The acrid smell of smoke danced by, as the next few moments of silence were broken only by the wails of those who had lost loved ones and the shouts of the townsfolk and guards as they cleaned up the damage from the night before.
“Without a doubt.” Thistleman finally answered, as he hopped over a fallen timber support. Maya simply wheeled me around it.
“Do you… really think we’re all going to die?” I squeezed that last question out, my face making all kinds of uncomfortable expressions.
“I think you should convince Rhyme and Jotuun to leave no later than tomorrow, and that we should go with them.” The boy replied like it was a simple statement of fact.
I already knew what his answer would be, but to hear it again… it made my heart drop.
“Oh…” I clutched my chest tightly as my breathing tightened. Memories of Kurstwood burst through my mind… almost as if they were replacing the streets of Njord itself. I felt as if I could see it… the city burning, and the people… torn apart and devoured… the screams… like Garen… and Tront… and Hal…
Hot tears burned down the sides of my face, each breath growing quicker than the last. I could barely even feel Maya when she pulled me into a firm hug. Their dying shrieks shuddered through my mind and turned into a deafening roar, yanking me back into the present.
My eyes, wide and bleary, darted towards the source of the cacophony and somehow managed to open even wider. A ship I could have never imagined in my wildest dreams tore through the sky above my head, smoke billowing off several protrusions from its sides.
Then, with a flash and a thunderous boom, one of the other strange protrusions burst, causing the airborne ship to list and plunge into a sharp descent. Thistleman seemed to mutter something quizzically to himself, something about mana overload, but I was too entranced with the sight to even think about it.
Miraculously, or so it seemed to me, the flying ship managed to right itself enough to cut away from the forests and instead crash landed in the fields out past the front gate of the city.
“Why didn’t we ever make anything like that… the potential alone… human creativity never ceases to surprise me…” Thistleman continued to mutter quietly to himself, his gaze locked towards the growing plume of smoke and dust from the crash site.
Then, a thought struck me. I smiled, almost mournfully, but it was worth a shot. I couldn’t let Kurstwood repeat itself. Plus, I just had to see this for myself.
“Thistle, you can’t go see that ship without me. Got it?” I gave him a manic, determined gaze. “What?! Why… who even said that I was going to do that?”
I knew I had him nailed as I watched him squirm. “You aren’t going anywhere in your condition, young lady! You are coming with me straight back to the temple to recover!” Maya interjected, finally regaining at least one piece of footing on a topic she knew she could handle. Just as point of emphasis, she practically stabbed me with her finger, causing pain to shoot again through my body.
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I just locked eyes with Thistleman, and declared again “Not. Without. Me.”
His face twitched a few times, as his face became something utterly unreadable.
“Mmmfff!” A bottle filled with a pink potion got jammed down my throat faster than I could see, filling my stomach with a familiar burning heat that spread throughout my limbs. I spit out the bottle and clenched my teeth, steam erupting from my body as the heat felt like it was cooking me alive. My veins bulged and the iron armrests of my wheelchair crumpled under my grip, as weeks’ worth of pain wracked my body in mere moments before it finally subsided, and it was gone.
I glared at Thistle. “You were holding out on me!” I practically cried. He gave me an incredulous stare in return. “Have you met you?”
He looked for a moment as if he had more to say, but with the growing rush of people and movement from the city guard, he looked back towards the distant city gate. “Anyways, if we want a shot at seeing the airship, we need to hurry. Now.”
I smiled wide, letting my mana run wild through my legs and launched myself like a rocket from the wheelchair, sending the fresh streaks of tears flying off my face.
Maya, on the other hand, listlessly dropped her hand and stared emptily at the freshly vacated chair.
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“A ship came falling out of the sky, so of course she has to get involved…” Brunhilde muttered to herself in frustration, sweat mixing with her golden locks of hair. She had followed the kids out from the council chambers, keeping a respectable distance.
Ivar or Krom would have to reach out to her after that meeting, which at best left her feeling unsettled. The whole thing itself felt almost surreal to her. Almost like they were tip-toeing around something, something they were keeping quiet from everybody else.
“It makes no damn sense.” She cursed to herself under her breath, as she pushed her way through confused crowds before shouting “Make way! There is no cause for further alarm, please, everyone make way! Sentries, to me!” The crowds parted with some effort, as a hastily assembled squad of guardsmen formed following Brunhilde, as she pulled them from nearby security patrols.
Some of them were immediately sent back off to relay messages to other outposts along the walls to organize the city’s security posture. Still, there were far too few men available, and she knew it. After the infighting over night, her guards were stretched far too thin. From a dozen platoons at full strength, their numbers collapsed down to 6, with the majority of those scattered across the city. Add in the problems with Captain Ross’ surviving night shift guards being placed under arrest… thin was an understatement.
Brunhilde clenched her fist as she barked out more orders, moving as quickly as she could towards the gate.
And now, on top of everything else, I was told to keep an eye on these kids. And they couldn’t even give me five minutes to delegate this down before getting into more trouble! And how can they move so quickly through this crowd?!
The beleaguered captain looked around to the rooftops, her face relaxing with the slight relief that the girl wasn’t racing along on that sabretooth of hers.
At least she won’t be able to dodge the gate guards this time. And just… howww???
Brunhilde’s jawline dropped, with her glistening lips mouthing that last word in tune with her thoughts. She could see a small crowd of curious onlookers kept at bay by the gate guards, but most problematically, she felt like she saw that damn girl melt out from the shadows just past the blockade and rush onwards towards the barely visible ship.
She stopped dead in her tracks, dumbstruck for a solid minute as her squad exchanged confused glances behind her, before silencing themselves and moving aside before a gargantuan man. The clanking of heavily armored soldiers followed behind him. She felt the heavy hand on her shoulder before she noticed the long shadow.
“Come lass. That is an experimental new trade ship from the capital, its not much trouble for them to go there. The trouble is…” The giant’s deep voice cut into Brunhilde’s shock.
Brunhilde looked back up towards Krom’s face, exasperation flowing from every pore. “Teleport… she can teleport now. Why can she teleport now? How the hell can she teleport?! Is this... what is… howwwww?!?!”
“Aye. We will need to commandeer… wait, what?” Krom looked back down to Brunhilde, and back towards Diane and Thistle, his eyes widened and then shut tightly. He shook his head, and continued.
“Don’t… that’s fine. Also, were going to commandeer and repair that ship. Come.” Krom grunted out tersely.
Brunhilde’s face only grew more confused. The royal guard captain… wants to commandeer a royal ship?
She grimaced with a sinking feeling in her gut. Brunhilde waved towards her squad, and ordered “You two, keep an eye on Diane and her friend. The rest of you, assist Krom.” She then nodded towards the Royal Guard Captain, “Go on ahead sir. I need to gather a platoon and draft up replacement guardsmen for the garrison.”
The behemoth nodded quietly, before striding onwards. “Aye. We’ll need it.”
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Sias studied her map carefully, as her demonic eyes pierced through the veil of the supernatural darkness surrounding her. Dark clouds of miasma radiated over her retinue, with sharp fangs, claws, and the glint of darksteel piecing intermittently through the clouds.
“Any word from Tormac?” She hissed towards her attending Bazael, a stout demon with broad shoulders and pocketed with holes across its body. Small, wormlike appendages would occasionally poke in and out of the countless holes, while its head was lodged onto its body with practically no neck.
At her request, numerous of those appendages poked out from across the demon’s body and down its thick, trunk-like arms. The creature contorted its already near-skeletal face before it responded gruffly. “No contact with count Eckhert. No contact with barons Deleagh and Celeor. No contact with viscount Zarith.”
The demonic naga glared forward through waves of darkness, before leaning to the front of her dark chariot. The design was simple, a single large condensed miasma stone was placed into a console at the front of the chariot, while several mana stones were place across the large stone slab it rested upon.
An imp managed the console at the front, its hands shoved within two mana rings as it focused on navigating through the thick forest. Sias gauged the miasma left, and double checked the mana stone supply.
“Are you in range of them yet?” She asked the Bazael curtly, causing its appendages to vibrate again. The vibrations increased in strength, as it let loose an unearthly howl into the darkening sky. “We are… reconnected.”
The scales of the demonic sea naga shimmered brilliantly, and she smiled a cold, empty smile. “Sssend the word, tomorrow night. Asssume Tormac failed and the humans are prepared. Sssend Celeor to contact Halfgaar, with caution. And bring them to Njord to sssurround the south and wessst.”
The creature bristled once more, and simply replied in its gravelly, alien tone, “It’s done.”