“Come in, Enbos. Do you read me? Come in.”
(…)
“… Hm. It seems he may have been caught in the explosion after all.”
As we continue to make our way to the target’s location, I am consulting the communicator that is connected to Enbos’ appropriated emblem. The faded magic circle on my detonator confirms he has triggered the collar, although I have no doubt in my mind it was far from his neck when he activated it. But never minding Enbos’ current wellbeing, I’m concerned about two things I have learned from that brief exchange.
For one, although the magic core linked to his emblem still glows, Brother Michael has indeed lost his life on this expedition. He was a young and talented Holy Knight, and the entire priory shall mourn his passing once the mission is complete. The second is that I distinctly recognise one of the female voices on line; which means Lili is wandering around this cultist-infested domain.
“Anything developments?” asks Agnes who is walking beside me.
“Brother Michael has returned to the World Stream. A collar detonation has been confirmed. Enbos is not responding and our watcher has gone silent as well. Nevertheless, given the timing of the call and the watcher’s last report, I believe Enbos was in mortal combat with the undead up until now.”
“I see. God bless our brother’s just soul… I only noticed but the one you referred to as the “watcher” wasn’t Brother Michael after all?”
“No. Our main communication network has been thoroughly compromised… but not the personal ones I requested from the Ruler’s Eyes. It appears the other team has encountered great difficulty.”
“We are not faring much better, brother. Although we have been unopposed, our path to the cultist leader has stretched over an inordinate length of corridor.”
“Indeed, but we have come too far to return to the aid of our other brothers. Our best course of action is to press on and finish off their hierarch as soon as possible. For now, I need to contact the Ruler’s Eyes.”
I take out a different communication item and herald the spymaster on the other end. The line connects and I immediately demand his identification code. A familiar voice responds and demands the same of me, to which I oblige.
(… Confirmed. What is your command, Sir Iudico?)
“Brother Samuel, our communications have been breached. I need you to create another secure network for my priory.”
(Noted, prior. It will take half an hour to prepare the source psalms and connect everybody to the new line.)
“You have half that time, brother.”
(Understood. By the way, this may or may not be relevant to your current undertaking but your letter to the main branch of the Novuseus House has received a reply. Shall I convey its contents?)
“… I have time,” I say as I stare down the empty passage stretching into the abyss.
(Permission confirmed. I shall now read item S34PF-F1M0: Dear…)
I’m no longer listening. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing on ends and I immediately cut him off with a curt question.
“Brother Samuel, has any item, operator or mission been designated the code S34PE-NTM0 over the past few weeks?”
(… I shall consult the register immediately. Please await my reply.)
“What is the matter?” asks Agnes. “Is something amiss with the identification?”
“Indeed. Although I do not know the method by which the Ruler’s Eyes assign their codes, from experience, they would never use a code that is so similar to another over such a short span of time. I doubt the letter is fake, which means-”
(Sir Iudico.)
“Report, Brother Samuel.”
(The code is listed in the register, however… it is as you feared. The identification code is a forgery.)
“I see. Brother Samuel, I need you to notify our surviving brothers in the hostage rescue team to cease all contact with the “watcher”. I will personally explain the situation once communications are re-established. Also, begin scrutinising all his reports and cross check them with the others.”
(Yes, prior. Samuel signing out.)
“… What did the Ruler’s Eyes say, Maximillian?”
“*Sigh* The worst, Sister Gregoria,” I reply while rubbing my temple with three fingers. “Our spy is a double agent.”
----------------------------------------
(Ears out, jobbers. I’m hearing a lot of noise up ahead.)
Tens of minutes have passed since Enbos’ desperate transmission. Although he never followed up, there is nothing we can do but to pray for his success. Of course, since Maximillian has revealed he’s been surveying our comms, Enbos could also be feigning his death. Regardless, we’ve decided to press on and locate the hostages.
We’ve arrived at a doorway leading into the side of a vast corridor, and as Sig has noted, there is a great deal of sound coming from within. Something is coming this way. We press ourselves close to the edge, and abstain from peeking our heads out the doorway as the source of the echoes come closer and closer.
“March, my brothers! The New Dawn is almost upon us!”
“Ascension! Ascension! Ascension!”
“Tascus! Tascus! Tascus!”
With their voices shaking the hairs on my snout, we watch as a large procession of armed cultists pass our doorless refuge. Sen is tightly gripping onto his spear while Lili seems primed to cast an emergency spell. To our dismay, two masked cultists stop a short distance away. The fact I can so clearly see them means it wouldn’t take much for them to see me.
“Is this everybody from Quadrant 3, brother?”
“Yes, Brother Kory, although I am still uneasy about leaving the uninitiated alone.”
“The current crop has been exceptionally pliant. There is no need to be concerned about them.”
Uninitiated? Crop?
“… The real concern is that we are still behind schedule. For such things to occur on the eve of the New Dawn is pure sacrilege.”
“I understand your frustration, brother, but it cannot be helped. The latest report says we are still trying to regain control of our systems after the main terminal in Quadrant 7 was somehow comprised.”
“*Sigh* Indeed, an oversight on our part. Although we know the ancient psalms, it was a mistake to assume those heathens wouldn’t be able to operate the terminals. At the very least, have the materials for the containment ritual been delivered?”
“Yes, brother.”
“Then let us give thanks to Maleosis and make haste.”
The two cultists continue down the corridor while discussing logistics. The last of the black march passes as we all let out a collective sigh of relief. However, as Sen prepares to peer out the corner, I immediately grab his shirt and pull him back.
As silent as silk gliding across a marble floor, another cultist walks past the doorway with uncanny movements. I’m astounded they could get so close without me hearing. Catching a glimpse of their appearance, their entire head is wrapped in bindings with unknown runes. I-isn’t that the Shadow Stalker whom Enbos said he fought on the rooftops of Catorrem? I’m sure such a profession would have scouting skills, but it seems he has no reason to be -
All of sudden, the bandaged man twists his torso and looks straight at the doorway. We immediately shrink away, but from the side of my eye, Sig is pointing desperately toward my chest. To my horror, I find my magic emblem is emitting a faint glow. I tuck the emblem behind my armour, but it’s too late. I can hear them making their way over. Lili seems eager to cast an illusion, but with everybody unaware of her true abilities, they are liable to strike out of desperation. The scent of perspiration is thick in the air. C-can the Shadow Stalker also smell our anxiety? Hear our controlled breathing?
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“Colligo, what are you doing loitering outside that passage?”
“… Something caught my attention, Brother Kory. I wish to investigate.”
“It can wait. His Holiness demands our immediate presence in the Great Hall. You are now a member of the inner circle so you need to set an example. Now, let’s go.”
After a moment of excruciating silence, I hear his muted steps getting further and further away. We wait another five minutes before finally peeking our heads around the corner. The corridor is empty, and we almost collapse atop one another.
“T-that was too close for comfort.”
“I agree, Sen. What was that transmission, Hachirou? Is it from Enbos?”
“I-I don’t know, Minna. It’s not responding anymore,” I say.
“I guess Enbos is alive and roc’ing, although there’s every chance it was that inquisitor, too.”
“Let us pray it was the former. More importantly, did everybody hear what those two cultists said?”
“Yeah, Lili. They were talking about people like wheat to be harvested… Eric might just be down that corridor,” says Sen.
“Better yet, my man. It seems Enbos mupped their systems so bad that they can’t scramble the rooms anymore. Bettermore, Iudico and his ilk are drawing all those cultists the other way.”
“The pair said they came from Quadrant 3, but how do we even find it?” muses Minna. “We can’t search every passage along the way.”
“Um, I can share some wisdom in that regard. From my travels with Enbos, we discovered the numbers used by the civilisations of old were reflected in the number of strokes. T-this is just an assumption, but…”
“Quadrant 3 should be the door marked by a symbol with three strokes. Right, Hachirou?” finishes Minna.
“Umu.”
“Makes sense to me,” says Sen. “Come on, everybody. Let’s go.”
We head down the vacuous corridor, ever conscious of the weight of our steps. Our search eventually brings us to a small hall with multiple doorways on the left and right. However, unlike almost every other passage thus far, these rooms have been fitted with iron doors. I can sense Sen’s excitement as he reaches for the closest handle, only to be stopped by Minna.
(What are you doing!? We have no idea if these are cells or the cultists’ quarters.)
(I don’t think they are cells, Minna) examines Lili. (There are no locks on any of these doors.)
(Let’s listen in for now before making a call) suggests Sig. (Erm, Hachirou? Since you are a kobold and all, could you…)
(Of course.)
I step up to the closest door then carefully press the side of my face against the cold surface. I hear nothing on the other end, but I decide to survey the rest doors before we open anything. The silence repeats until the last room, to which I quickly signal to everybody to prepare. There are hushed whispers on the other side. Their tones are also rather light, resembling the voices of…
(C-children?)
(They imprisoned the village kids here?)
(Maybe, Sen. There are about thirty or more of them inside. And those scratching noises…)
(Scratching?)
(Yes, Minna. A lot of small scratches, all at once. It sounds almost rhythmic.)
(By the spirits, what on Garea are they putting through?) exclaims Sen.
(We have to be level-headed about this) reasons Minna. (This is a covert operation, so the most we can do is to note this area for the holy knights to-)
Suddenly, we all hear a short yelp come from inside. Ignoring her own advice, Minna kicks open the door and dives in with her weapon at the ready. It takes the rest of us a second to follow Minna’s lead, but upon entering the room we find there are no cultists. What do find are more than thirty children sitting behind rows of coffins being used as desks. The source of the cry was a “student” who accidentally knocked over their ink pot. Realising we are not their usual patrons, they become panicked and withdraw to the back of the room. One of them begins running to the lectern at the front which has a signal baton resting on top. Norf immediately intercepts the child and hoists him up as he flails.
“It’s okay. It’s okay, everybody. We’re not here to harm you,” reassures Sen.
“We’re adventurers and we have come to save you and your family,” says Minna. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
“Y-you are here to take us away?”
“That’s right, but not right now,” says Sen. “A bunch of knights in shining armour will come and take you all the safety. But we want to rescue everybody, so can you tell us where they are keeping everybody else?”
“W-we won’t be learning necromancy anymore?”
“Yes, child,” says Lili, “you won’t be forced to learn such bad magic anymore. You can go back to your loved ones and-”
All of a sudden, the entire class begins crying with all their heart. Lili is flustered by the reaction and is now trying to soothe them. Sig, who is standing guard by the door, hastily closes it lest we are noticed. One of the children, a young boy, is hugging their coffin-desk so tightly that splinters are digging into their fingers. I immediately rush to his side and try to console him.
“P-please, let go and allow my friend to heal your wounds. What’s the matter? Did we say something wrong?”
“*Sob, sniffle* W-we can’t go, mister. We need to learn the teacher’s magic.”
“But why? It is dangerous magic and the cultists will soon be gone. You don’t have to keep learning it.”
“B-but… I want to see my mummy again!”
For a moment, I’m puzzled by the cultists’ form of coercion. But then, it dawns on me. The children’s attachment to their “desks”. The depths of the cult’s depravity. The methodical corruption of their innocence.
I can’t hold it in. A great surge of nausea overcomes me as I rush out the door. I rip off my mask and begin emptying the churning mass in my stomach. The memory of Enbos washing his mask in the stable flashes in my mind as my throat and eyes continue to burn.
“*Cough, cough*!”
“It’s alright, kid. Take short breathes then keep letting it all out,” says Sig as he rubs my back.
“T-those… They… *Cough, cough*!”
“I know. We know. And they will sure as hell answer for all the mupped things they did.”
I do not return to the “classroom”. After my episode subsides, I rest against the wall and wait for the others to finish. A few moments later, Lili, Sen, Minna and Norf emerge with conflicted expressions.
“Are you alright, Hachirou?”
“I’m fine, Lili… The children?”
Lili shakes her head.
“Their trauma is far too deep. We had to lie that we’d leave them alone, but just in case, I disabled the signal baton.”
“Damn it, this is messed up!” roars Sen, hammering his fist against the stone wall. “What do they see those children as!? What do they see themselves as!? I wish I could stick Tascus’ head on the end of my spear, b-but even then… that wouldn’t save them.”
“I fear the holy knights will have to remove them by force. I pray that one day… they will come to terms with their loss,” says Lili with downcast eyes.
“…”
“… We need to go, everybody,” says Minna in a weak voice. “I found a map which shows the general layout of this quadrant. There is this “off-limits” area that might be of interest.”
“It’s worth a shot. Hachirou, are you well enough to walk? Norf is offering to carry you on his back.”
“I-I’m fine, Sen. All of us… need to move on.”
----------------------------------------
Using the map Minna had found, we eventually find ourselves outside a reinforced door. Instead of a lock, the door has a hefty metal bar running through a latch. It is clearly designed to keep things in, not out. Although no guards are in sight, we approach the room with upmost caution. Lili stops outside the door and hovers her hand over the frame, emitting a soft light from her palm. However, once she is done, she turns to us with a bewildered expression.
“Is something the matter, Lili?” asks Sig.
“The only enchantment I could detect was an alarm which I just removed. The security is so threadbare that I’m having significant doubts. There may be another trap on the other side, or it may not be the prison after all.”
“I get you. What do you reckon, you all?”
“… We go in. I’ll take the lead, so wait for my signal. Norf, open the door.”
Norf looks at his friend for a few seconds before nodding his head. Lili casts a protection spell on Sen while Minna ties a rope around his waist, ready to pull him back at a moment’s notice. Norf removes the metal bar, and little by little, he opens the heavy door just enough for Sen to creep.
(… By the spirits. Don’t worry, everyone. We’re here to save you. Erm, hello? Are you okay?)
“Sen?”
“It’s okay, Minna. We found them,” says Sen as he peeks his out the door. However, there is a distinct lack of jubilation in his voice. “You should all come in and see for yourselves.”
“I’ll play gargoyle and stay here,” suggests Sig. “You jobbers go on ahead.”
“Okay. Thank you, Sig,” I say.
We enter the room, and to our great surprise, we find ourselves in a large, well-lit space with dozens of small chambers long the left and right walls. However, most shocking are the residents: more than a hundred people dressed in simple grey clothes. None of them are chained, most are able-bodied, but barely any of them are reacting to our presence. It is not as if they are preoccupied. They are spread out across the entire floor in small groups, staring emptily into space or tinkering with pieces of bone or cloth, and only bothering to move to fetch supplies from one of the chambers. While I am relieved that they are alive, I would be hard pressed to describe them as living. Sen is shaking one of them, but they ignore him and return to sleeping on a blanket.
“Don’t you understand, you guys? The holy knights will be coming soon! Tonight, you’re all going to be free!”
“…”
“Sen, what is going on?”
“I-I don’t know what’s wrong, Minna. It looks as if everybody has been bewitched.”
“This isn’t the work of magic, Sen,” says Lili as she checks the room for spells and surveillance. “There are no traces of sorcery on the walls for their bodies. I-I fear whatever the cultists have subjected them has broken their hearts.”
“Damn it, so that’s what it is, but why is nobody responding? They’re not deaf, mute nor mindless. They’re deliberately ignoring us.”
“… Everyone, may you please hear our case?” speaks Lili. Few heads turn in her direction, but she presses on regardless. “We are here as part of Inquisitor Iudico’s expedition to liberate you all from the cultists’ control. Our forces have already occupied the foot of the mountain, and now, we seek to take all of you to safety before the final battle. I can see your doubts and I will not judge you for it. We know not what horrors you have experienced, what despair they have affected on your lives, but please: if any of you are willing, share your pain with us. Each and every one of us sincerely want to help.”
As wholehearted as Lili’s pleas may be, the expressions on the captives remain as impassive as before. For wait for several seconds but nobody steps up. Undeterred, Lili is about to continue her plight, when all of a sudden, Sen walks up to one of the captives and grabs him by the shoulders.
“S-Sen! Calm-”
“If you won’t tell us anything, then that’s fine. We’ll get you out of here whether you believe it or not. However, I have one question. Just one thing I need to know at this moment. Please tell me: is Eric Pinn in this very room?”
The prisoner doesn’t say a thing, but Sen sees something in his eyes that makes his own widen. He releases his grip and immediately paces about the room, shouting his missing friend’s name.
“Eric! Eric! Talk to me, Eric! It’s me, Sen!”
“Eric, are you here!? Please, if anyone knows just point us towards him!” joins Minna.
As the pair continue calling out his name, I survey the room but find nobody has responded to their cries. My ears involuntarily lower, when suddenly…
(Squeaky? Bookworm? Is… that really you?)
In a voice so low that it shouldn’t be audible to humans, Sen and Minna give a start before rushing toward one of the chambers. The rest of us follow them from a distance, and as I peer from the side, I spy a withered man slumped against the stone wall. Most tragically, he is missing his right forearm and most of his left leg. Minna gasps in horror while Sen is frozen rigid. However, as the amputee raises his head and looks at the duo through unkempt hair, there is an undeniable fire in his eyes.
“What… the hell happened to your finger, Sen?”
“D-do I really have to bring a mirror, y-you smart-aleck?” stammers Sen.
Sen nearly tumbles forward as he places a hand on his shoulder, almost as if to confirm the man’s very existence. Likewise, Minna places her trembling hand on the other side. Norf and Lili included, I can’t help but join share in their heartfelt emotion as tears stream from the three lifelong friends. Sen then reaches into his pocket and removes a bracelet: the one he exhumed from Kasseus Village.
“I… I know it’s nothing like we imagined. I always figured we would run into you, dead-drunk at a bar. B-but, after all these years,” says Sen as he clasps the trinket around his friend’s wrist, “I finally caught up to you, Eric.”