> Learning any discipline will alter your view on its subject, but for me history was the most jarring. When I was an utter novice I found history dull, then fascinating as I began to understand its intricacies. Later I laughed derisively at the idiocy of this or that historical figure that failed to anticipate one thing or another, then later still soberly reviewed the tragedies that I came to see as reflections of our own failings in the moment. In hindsight, that would have been a wonderful place to stop reading.
>
> - Tasjadre Ra Novo, Jesa Sagoja: Zhetam Asade
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Vumo looked across the table at them and raised one wispy eyebrow. “A doorway in the air,” he mused. “One that opens to another world.”
“It stayed open for several hundred days,” Jesse said quietly. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice carried notes of weary tension, but for all the strain he showed his manner was calm, focused. “Its closure seemed to be coordinated with the attack on our people.”
“By the Emperor of Ash,” Vumo nodded, settling back in his chair and sighing. “I won’t deceive you; I’m not aware of a saon drai with a power such as you describe. Further, I have not read any histories or other texts that reference a similar phenomenon.” He held up a finger, preempting any reply. “However,” he said, “there are several thousand scriptsmiths in the Archive. As much as I have read and learned, there are many here with knowledge beyond mine. Our resources are not inconsiderable. I will share what you told me, and I have no doubt that someone within our ranks will step forward with further insights.”
“I suppose it was too much to hope you had a fix sitting in the vault,” Mark said dejectedly. “What sort of saon drai did you think we were after?”
Vumo smiled at him. “In truth, I had no idea,” he said conspiratorially. “But you seemed to be convinced that we were essential to your return and I saw no reason to call that into question.” His smile faded, however, and he leaned back in his chair with a troubled look on his face. “It does concern me, however,” he said. “This slow escalation, the timing and stealth involved. A capability we had not seen before, used to trap you here - and perhaps to lure you here. It is quite different from what we had observed to this point.”
“In what way?" Arjun asked.
The scriptsmith took a deep breath, considering his words. “To this point,” he said, “the Emperor has been a problem the kingdom has dealt with much as we would a flood or some other mundane calamity rather than an enemy force. Ever since Goresje first identified the movement of the Imperial Horde out of Asu Saqarid they have advanced slowly, without subterfuge. Generations of defenders both Sjocelym and Aesvain have turned them back, halted their advances well before they reached into the Vidim Vai. Even after they surprised the Aesvain cordon and moved to assault the borders of Tinem Aesvai itself, the soldiers at their main defensive lines had ample warning and repelled them easily.”
“Wait,” Gusje objected. “Tinem Aesvai was overrun. How did that happen, if fighting them was so simple?”
Vumo shook his head. “We don’t know,” he admitted. “The Aesvain soldiers held the line at the boundaries of their domain for many hundreds of days without conceding an inch. From what we heard they were even considering a counteroffensive to reclaim the cordon. Their draam je qaraivat were intact so they could not have been surprised from behind as you described. Dealing with the onslaught is trying, but with the appropriate preparations and protection from the stones the biggest challenge is disposing of the bodies - or so we thought. But one day, the twinplates from the palace in Mosatel fell silent. The next update we heard was from a stream of refugee ships pouring into Sjatel, all saying the same thing: the stones had shattered, the soldiers were dead. Tinem Aesvai was lost.”
“And you think it’s because of something like what happened to us?” Mark asked. “A surprise attack would fit, we didn’t even see them until the end.”
“I think it is very likely to be related,” Vumo said. “Both because of what you described - and because from what you’ve said, the fall of Tinem Aesvai happened very close to when your doorway opened. I would not be surprised to discover that both events occurred on precisely the same day.”
There was a long pause after Vumo stopped speaking, during which Jesse’s expression darkened. He stood from the table abruptly and took several steps away, his right hand balled tightly into a fist. “I don’t understand,” he muttered, turning back to look directly at Vumo. “What do you expect us to do? Even with our equipment and the weapons you’ve given us, what difference will it make? We couldn’t even stop them from taking over our own camp.”
“Our disadvantage is not in force of arms,” Vumo said. “I agree that having you fight in Sjatel’s defense would make little difference.”
“What, then?” Jesse asked heatedly. “Are we just supposed to go up there and hope for the best? Count on this thing in me saving everyone?” His fist clenched, trembling. “Is that the best fucking idea you can come up with?”
“Jesse,” Arjun said mildly.
Jesse rounded on him, then paused. The others were looking at him with shocked expressions, wide-eyed. In the corner of the room, Sjogydhu’s hand was resting firmly on Sunshine, his eyes locked on Jesse with cold focus. Jesse couldn’t remember standing, or what had made him so suddenly angry. “I’m-” he muttered. “Ah. I’m sorry.” He sat down and hunched forward, his face hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he mumbled.
Vumo coughed. “It is a fair question,” he allowed. “Although asaarim have performed great deeds in the past, the advantage they hold is often simply in doing what does not occur to others. There are those who have turned the tide of battles, it is true, but they are few in number - and despite your evident strength,” he said, “I do not think that will be your aesacaar.” He slumped in his seat, his age seeming to creep into his eyes just a bit. “I fully expect that Sjatel will fall to the Emperor,” he said quietly.
Even Sjogydhu seemed shocked to hear that, although the man’s face barely registered the emotion before going wooden and cold. Vumo looked at Jesse with a defeated expression on his face, the vibrancy in his eyes dimmed by fatigue and anguish. “It may not be our fate to come through this unscathed,” he said. “We may lose, perhaps much. So I want you to go to Sjatel.” He straightened up, his expression hardening. “When the Emperor attacks, when his forces overcome the defenders and pour into the city - I want you to run.”
“You want us to see how he does it,” Arjun said with grim realization. “You want to know what he did to take Tinem Aesvai in a day.”
Vumo nodded tightly. “None escaped the front lines in Tinem Aesvai,” he confirmed. “Our greatest weakness right now is our lack of knowledge. If the Emperor attacks, we will lose. If your aesacaar is to somehow change that through your strength, then you will be the greatest asaarim we have ever known.” He looked at Jesse for several quiet heartbeats, then lowered his gaze.
“But you are not the leader of an army,” he said. “You do not have the ability to alter the battle through sheer force. What you do have is knowledge of the enemy’s new tactics, gained firsthand. What you have is experience with the doorway phenomenon, something even our most learned members lack. What you have,” he said, looking at Jesse with renewed fire, “is a chariot. Everything about you and your friends makes you uniquely qualified to warn Idran Saal of the Emperor’s methods with enough time to put that warning to use. To ensure that Sjatel is the only city we lose.”
“Not much consolation for those defending Sjatel,” Mark pointed out grimly.
Vumo nodded. “The residents of the city were evacuated to Idran Saal or further down the coast some time ago,” he said. “The soldiers who hold Sjatel now made the choice to stay, and we are supporting them with supplies through the harbor. The defense of the city must be convincing enough to draw out the Emperor’s secret. I am not naïve enough to think we can do this without… losses.”
“There are still too many unknowns,” Jesse grumbled. “If we can get to Sjatel in time, if the Emperor is forced to show us his trick, if we can escape to Idran Saal, if you can use what we learn to mount a defense-”
“If I had a more certain way I would not be talking with you,” Vumo said, nettled. “We know little, and have lost much. Our forebears ringed Asu Saqarid with thousands of draam je qaraivat, hundreds of thousands, each stone a wonder that we could not dream of creating now.” He shook his head. “And yet with all their power and their craft, they did not eliminate the threat. Could not.”
“Why?” Arjun asked, the simple question causing Vumo’s eyes to turn towards him. “Who is the Emperor of Ash? Why would they think they could not defeat one man?”
“Ah,” Vumo chuckled. “Such easy questions.” He rubbed tiredly at his eyes, then steepled his fingers in front of him. “We actually know very little about him,” he admitted. “We don’t even really know that he exists, as such. When we speak of an Emperor in Asu Saqarid we refer to the will that controls the silent ones that roam from there. If it is one man, several, or something aside from a man we could not say.”
Mark looked at him in disbelief. “You don’t know anything?” he asked incredulously. “The folks who built the stones must have had some idea. They didn’t bother to tell anyone?”
“It was an unsettled time,” Vumo said, “from what we can tell. The oldest documents we can find speak of our people as prosperous, wealthy, secure. We lived without want or hunger, surrounded by wondrous workings of ruduun that saw us soaring through the air like birds and shaping metal and stone like so much clay. The greatest of the works we built during those days still stand as if made yesterday, untouched by the passage of time.” He closed his eyes. “And then the record stops. We have only fragments from this time, but they speak of chaos, panic, death on an unimaginable scale.”
“Shocked quartz,” Arjun muttered. “We found changes in the sand near Asu Saqarid that could only result from a large explosion or impact.”
“And none of the documents we have from before the collapse mention Asu Saqarid,” Vumo confirmed. “In the same place where it now sits they describe the city of Sahao, a center of learning and commerce surrounded by verdant plains and gentle hills. Then nothing, save for a few fragments that speak of containing a great threat, of using the last of their dwindling power to safeguard the handful of lives that were spared. The survivors fled to the few patches of coastline kept whole by the vinesavaim while the rest stayed where they fell.”
“But as the next records tell it,” he said grimly, “they did not stay fallen forever.”
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“He is in so far over his head it’s not even funny,” Jackie said. “Sending us out to Sjatel is a complete Hail Mary on his part.”
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“A Hail Jesse,” Mark snorted, drawing a dark look from where Jesse sat in quiet conversation with Gusje and Tasja. “I mean, yeah - he’s got to be sweating a bit. Sounds like whatever happened there last time basically wiped them out, and they’ve been hanging on for who knows how long just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“However,” Arjun sighed, “I don’t think that changes anything for us. If anything it makes it more important that we collaborate with him, since the intelligence he’s sending us to gather may be directly linked to the Emperor’s control of the portals.”
“I still don’t like it,” Jackie muttered. “It’s silly to think that he won’t write us off just as easily as those soldiers in Sjatel if he sees an advantage. However nice he’s being to us, we know the scriptsmiths aren’t all butterflies and rainbows. Remember what Rusve and Izho said.”
“I remember,” Mark admitted. “And I’m not saying we shouldn’t be careful. What he’s asking us to do, though - we’re not fighting, and we’re not hurting anyone. We have all the control here, and frankly we could use his help. We don’t have a lot of friends, Jack, and even if the scriptsmiths have their flaws they’re at least not an apocalyptic zombie horde.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “There is that,” she conceded.
“I’m glad we’re keeping to such high standards,” Arjun said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. It faded quickly, however, as he looked over at where Jesse was sitting. “I am worried about Jesse,” he confided quietly. “It’s understandable that he’d find this situation stressful, but I’ve never seen him lose his temper like that before. I’ve barely heard him raise his voice before today.”
Mark nodded, looking troubled. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “He does seem a bit wound up. But, then again - which one of us would handle all the shit he’s going through half as well?” He shrugged. “I figure once we get away from the city and all this crazy hero talk he’ll be able to get his mind off it.”
“I suppose,” Jackie said, not sounding convinced. “I just wish there was something we could do to help.”
“Have his back,” Mark said. “Sometimes that’s all you get to do.”
There was a moment of somber silence before Mark slapped his hand against his knee and smiled brightly. “In other news,” he said, “I went to ask Sjogydhu about getting that damn hammer to work.”
“Oh?" Arjun inquired. “Did he share the secret to activating that effect he spoke of? You were trying for quite some time earlier without any luck.”
“Yeah, he filled me in,” Mark sighed. “Turns out he wasn’t joking when he said hit everything as hard and fast as you can. It’s not enough to get a few rounds of practice strikes in. From what he’s saying I’ll need to go full John Henry to get this thing started.”
“Rule Number One,” Jackie said. “Cardio. I guess they did know what they were talking about.”
Mark rolled his eyes at her. “I’ll give it another go later today, maybe,” he said. “That last session made me feel like Tesvaji’s punching bag.”
Jackie picked a small dried fruit from a bowl in front of them and popped it into her mouth, chewing. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I bet Gusje’s asolan would help you bounce back from training a lot faster.”
“Hmm. I mean, you’re probably right,” he said. “It just feels strange to ask her for it now that I know what it does.”
“I think she’d be more than happy to let you use it for your training,” Arjun said. “That was a hard truth for her to hear. Perhaps using the asolan to help you would likewise help her.”
“But it feels like I’m stealing time from her,” Mark objected. “I wore it for a day or two before I knew what it did, that was one thing. Wearing it for recovery after practice would mean I’d have it for weeks or months. I don’t know how this all works, but couldn’t that ultimately cost her years off her life?”
Arjun nodded. “It’s possible,” he said. “But Mark, you have to put this in context. Based on what she said Tesvaji could be upwards of three hundred years old. Vumo said he was young during Goresje’s reign, which puts him two asolan-extended generations back from us. I don’t even want to speculate how old that makes him.” He shook his head and shrugged. “My point is, you are not dooming her to a brief existence by borrowing some time with the asolan. We can ask Gusje to see if she’s amenable, then ask Vumo to make sure there’s no chance of harming her. With any luck, she’ll be able to lend it to us for short spans of time and suffer no ill effects.”
“Well, let’s hope it remains relevant,” Mark said, getting up from the table. “Like I said before, death by old age is looking less likely every day we’re here.”
“Try not to think too much about the zombies,” Jackie said sagely. “I find it doesn’t help anything.”
“Zombies?” Mark said, grinning. “Oh, if only.” He fished in his shirt and pulled out the amulet Sigu had given them, turning it to show the others. Both qim encased in the glass had gone dull and lifeless as the heat source within the amulet expired. “If the Emperor wants us he’s going to have to get in line.”
“Oh, shit,” Jackie said worriedly, pulling out her own depleted amulet. “That man is going to mount our heads on the gate.”
“We should probably see if Vumo can pull some strings for us,” Arjun mused. “It won’t make Sigu any happier, but it may at least prevent him from arresting us or putting us in the stockade, or...” He frowned. “Actually, he was worryingly vague when he was outlining the consequences of being late.”
“I doubt it’s like a parking fine,” Jackie said, popping to her feet briskly. “Come on, let’s go track Vumo down. Grab Gusje too, we can kill two birds with one stone and ask him about the asolan as well.”
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It was morning on the following day when they stepped out into the foggy garden surrounding the Archive, packs laden with supplies and gifts from Vumo. “I’m sorry that we weren’t able to find any armor in your size, it was all we could do just to procure clothing that would fit,” Sjogydhu said, handing Jesse an opaque cloth sack stuffed with qim and a reversed oilskin bag with utelym. “You all stray somewhat from our usual measurements. We do have an armorer making you some scripted coats-of-plate, however, which we will send to your attention in Idran Saal.”
He turned to Mark, pulling out a third, smaller bag. Even through the cloth a twinkling glow was visible in the morning gloom. “I was able to find some charged crystals for you,” he said suspiciously, “but first - tell me why you want them.”
“Ah,” Mark said, blanching and fidgeting with the asolan strapped to his wrist. “We came across a device that uses the crystals to, ah…” He paused. “Yeah, I got nothing. We have the Fiery Hand of Destruction.”
Sjogydhu blinked, then handed the bag over. “I don’t know what else I expected,” he sighed. “That’s at least a marginal improvement over it being destroyed. Does anyone in Sjan Saal know you have it?”
“Yeah, the captain of Vimodi’s guards,” Mark said. “Never got his name, both times I met him the room we were in exploded.”
Sjogydhu’s lips quirked into a smile. “Tovo Qa,” he said. “A good man, if a bit dense.”
“He did let us go,” Mark conceded, “although he also threatened to kill us rather theatrically if we didn’t bring it back.”
“Yes, he would,” Sjogydhu chuckled. “Knowing him, he very much meant whatever he said. Take good care of that gauntlet. Charge the crystals in a kiln or forge when they’re spent, a mere fire won’t do.”
He ignored Mark’s sputtered response and walked forward, leading the group through the foggy paths of the garden towards the city wall. The city was eerie this early, and although still far from deserted the streets were quiet and subdued as those unable to delay their business for better light or weather pulled their cowls tight and braved the murk. It would have been quite dismal but for the false dawn of the lighthouse above coloring the haze with its pale orange flare.
Mark and Jesse followed behind them, their silhouettes distorted by the addition of the sword and hammer that they now carried. Mark seemed particularly delighted by his bulky new weapon and had it sticking out of his pack at a jaunty angle in lieu of a proper fastening.
At the back of the group, Jackie fell into step beside Gusje. “So,” she said, “you did not say why.”
Gusje looked up at her blearily. “Why what?” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes.
“Why you go to Sjatel,” Jackie said. “Jesse goes because of crazy asaarim thing. Mark, Arjun and I go for Jesse. Tasja goes for… Ras,” Jackie said, rolling her eyes. “But you can leave. Your people go to Sjan Saal.”
“You want me to leave?” Gusje asked, looking at Jackie in shock.
“No, no!” Jackie said emphatically. “Good if you come, just… you should know why.”
Gusje considered for a second before responding. “I should say that Sjan Saal isn’t truly safe as long as there’s a threat to Sun’s Shadow,” she muttered. “But that’s not it. I just feel like it’s too early to stop, like I’m not done yet.” She blinked and looked up at Jackie, seeming suddenly worried. “Is that a bad reason?”
Jackie shrugged. “No wrong answer,” she said cheerily. “We go into huge storm of shit. Right answer is the one that you still believe, even with face full of shit.”
“Huge storm of…” Gusje said, looking at Jackie incredulously. “Who has been teaching you to speak?”
Jackie shrugged and grinned. “English is poet’s language. Your people will learn much from us.”
Gusje was saved from the necessity of a response by their arrival at the city gate. At this hour it was not yet opened, although a line of blue-and-silver liveried guards still stood watch. Upon their arrival one of them called out to the gatehouse, and shortly thereafter the resplendently armored and mustachioed Sigu was standing before them in the brightening morning light.
“Well,” he said. “It looks like simple instructions weren’t quite simple enough. It’s been three days, and you’re leaving through the wrong gate.”
Mark held up both hands, one of them containing the asu je ahetivat amulet. “We’re just here to drop these off and be on our way,” he said placatingly. “Actually, I don’t suppose we could get our qim back?”
Sigu shook his head. “You’re not leaving,” he said. “I told you the rules and you disregarded them. Now different rules apply.”
“You’re partially right,” Sjogydhu said, stepping out from behind Jesse. “Hello, Sigu Qa.”
Sigu grunted. “Sjogydhu Qa,” he replied. The two men stepped forward and stared at each other for a long moment. “I suppose you’re here to tell me why I shouldn’t be locking these idiots up.”
“Your insight is flawless as usual, Sigu Qa,” Sjogydhu replied, taking six red leather tokens from his belt. They were embroidered and embossed with fine gold, each bearing a different name in aejha glyphs on its face. “By our royal charter we may reserve City residence and entry for individuals of surpassing value to the kingdom.” He handed each of them their token and turned back to Sigu with a slight smile. “I decided to walk down here with them because it was either that or pick them up from a cell when you tossed them there for forgery,” he said. “This seemed more efficient.”
“You’re kidding,” Sigu scoffed. “Them?”
“Sigu Qa,” Sjogydhu said gravely, “I don’t know who you met coming in, but I would like to avoid any confusion. Please let me introduce you to Tasja Ras and Gusje Ry,” he said. Tasja puffed up at his title, but both Gusje and Sigu froze in surprise to stare at Sjogydhu as he walked to the others. “Zhaqi Ra, Aruzhun Ra, Mariq Ry,” he said, pointing to each of them in turn. “And this, my dear Sigu, is Zhesi Ce Asaarim.”
Sigu’s mouth didn’t quite drop open, but he stared at Jesse with a dazed look for a moment before shaking off his surprise and stepping to the side. “You may leave,” he grated out, the animosity gone from his voice. “And Sjogydhu,” he said quietly. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Saving the kingdom, little brother,” Sjogydhu said. He clapped him on the shoulder before walking out with the rest of the group. “Everything we still can.”
They made it into the street beyond the gate before stopping to look at Sjogydhu, who had a smug grin on his face. “So, what just happened?” Mark asked. “That felt important and I understood none of it.”
“With Vumo Ra’s esteemed position comes a variety of prerogatives and perquisites that he’s earned over the years - or, in most cases, tacked on to kingdom projects in exchange for more reasonable fees,” Sjogydhu said. “As a result he has a few noble titles he can hand out. Jackie and Arjun have been inducted as high scholars of the Archive, while Gusje and Mark have received some estates we repossessed yesterday from the holdings of one Vimodi Ma Nasa. Vumo thought you would find that appropriately ironic.”
Sjogydhu held up a hand before they could respond to his pronouncement and walked over to stand beside Jesse, looking up at him with a somewhat apologetic expression. “As for you, we’ve filed an official notice of your status as an asaarim with the royal palace. By chariot you’ll probably reach Sjatel before they get around to delivering the news, but these tokens I’ve given you are a proxy for your patents of nobility and should suffice in the interim. I would take it as a personal favor if you tried your best not to lose them, since procuring them on such short notice was quite expensive.”
The six of them stood for a moment before Arjun cleared his throat. “Thank you, Sjogydhu, but - why? You met us only a few days ago.”
He shrugged. “Vumo Ra judged it necessary,” he said, his tone suggesting he found that alone to be sufficient reason. “He gathers resources and favors so that he can spend them where he believes they will have the greatest effect. If this silly scrap of leather and an extra glyph behind your name will convince some sunstruck officer to take your recommendation at Idran Saal, that could prove to be the difference between our life and death. Fortune provides for asaarim, it is true,” he said, extending an arm to Jesse. “But Vumo Ra has never liked depending on fortune alone.”
Jesse reached out to clasp his arm in return. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m not sure how we can repay you for this.”
“Just save the world, Saset Ce,” Sjogydhu replied with a wry smile. “I’ll be taking a loss, but I’ll call it even just this once.” He tossed them a final wave before turning to walk back through the gate, leaving them alone in the thinning fog.
“I just realized,” Tasja said, his voice sounding small and dazed in the sudden quiet. “We never gave Sigu Qa his amulets back.”