Chapter 26
Dianna’s eyes were glazed as she stared out across the ruined landscape, her thoughts more contemplative than anything else, mind drifting as though on a breeze while she sat.
The edge of Arthur’s exercise platform made a good enough place to perch as any nearby. And while her musings had, for a time, settled amidst the pessimistic, they’d, by now, levelled out, a kind of apathetic blanket draping over her person, warm as it was snug.
The settlement was ruined… oh sure, the spire itself was still standing, and it wasn't like the damage was so immense that it couldn't be salvaged or even replaced, but… A fire had done significant work to reducing much of the flammable parts of people's homes to little more than kindling… Likewise, the landscape around it was—well, she honestly didn't even know what to call it… however, battlefield felt like an adequate moniker, all things considered.
There were corpses and ash everywhere one looked. More holes and craters in the dirt than a stretch of badlands, and as to the vegetation and animals? Hmph… well, that was a rather sour subject as well…
She hadn't yet officially claimed rulership over the place, but given it now looked as it did, to do so felt almost—childish… A big kid declaring they were queen or king of a broken and rusted playground. It hadn't even been she who’d come to save the day either! No, that little accolade went to her own daughter…
The fact the girl might very well have done more damage of a physical nature to it all than the creatures which had assailed them was noted but hardly cared after… She very much was the hero of the hour. And while not everyone fully understood exactly how a child, Dianna’s own spawn or otherwise, could accomplish such a feat, there was all manner of evidence towards her victory that was easily enough reviewed or pointed toward as proof.
Dianna felt as though she couldn't even be angry that it was Tulla and not herself that the people were heralding as their champion of the day… After all, it had been her daughter who had delved into the depths to save her cousin and the foolish girl's command. It had been her daughter that had stayed behind to battle the abyssal voidlings to a standstill. Then, it had been her daughter who eventually found the entity commanding the monsters and drove it away.
Tulla had done it all. And she’d come out the other end of a fight that feasibly shouldn't have had any avenue of success—transformed.
“Ha! I hardly recognize the girl as she is…”
Dianna’s eyes shifted up towards the sky, the evening root light dimming as the day neared its conclusion… Her daughter had indeed changed. She was more confidant than she’d been… Assured of herself in a way that had all but banished her prior fears of inadequacy and anxieties over her form.
She was taller now. Practically looking like a teenager belonging to their family. Her little girl had muscles! Not just those spindly pre-teen things she’d possessed, but real, earnest muscles that gave her a mature appearance now far in excess of her years. By all the Justiciar’s, she could very well have been mistaken for a legion trainee who’d just signed the next ten years of their lives to the service. Or, that was how Dianna would have described her were it not for all the more—bizarre deviations separating her from a normal young woman of their species.
If nothing else, the girl certainly stood out… And given she was as popular as she was, the changes only seemed to ingratiate her daughter to the survivors rather than alienate her from them. It was almost laughable! Looking back, to remember just how proud Dianna had been to reach silver at such a comparatively young age… thirty-five… not a record by any semblance of the imagination but certainly well beyond the average…
Yet her little girl wasn't even fifteen and already, she was pushing the fourth rank of the third tier.
“Ridiculous…” She chuckled, a wan smile creeping across her features while she shook her head at the absurdity of life.
Her daughter had done something that few outside of the wealthiest houses the Lacunae over could ever hope to achieve. And she’d done it on her own… Not without some rather glaring advantages that were possibly even unique to her, but… beyond her father’s golems, the girl had been out here fighting to protect what was her’s with all the dogged determination of a cornered beast… She was proud of the child. Though Dianna was in tune enough with her own sense of self to note it was a bitter-sweet sort of joy…
It wasn't lost on her that, had she been present, circumstances would undoubtedly be different, and like as not lean toward the better. Dianna had been on the cusp of claiming the settlement as her own. Taking it, and whatever future prospects might emerge from their endeavour, as the seat of her future crown. And while she hadn't made any declarations, it was frustrating to know that she was one of the few people who hadn't actually participated in the fighting. Sure, her daughter and husband had carried any such efforts on their shoulders, but it still chaffed.
No, rather than proving herself to be the capable leader or the strength that would let them endure through the trying times to come, she’d been in the labyrinth. Buying thralls for everyone or, well, that was to say, collecting what had already been purchased…
Much like Bianca’s own gifts had been, Dianna’s display of wealth was lopped off at the ankles before it had even had the chance to impress. Nobody cared that she’d been trying to do a good thing for the community, regardless of where her true intentions had lay. And, though none had outright said anything unto the thought, Dianna herself couldn't help but note that had she simply been present, the whole disaster might have been mitigated before it had gained traction.
Doubtless, there still would have been tragedy and unquestionable damage, but, at the same time, what would have been so likely might have been—fractional. She’d fucked up. Even if it had all come down to chance and ill-timing, in her eyes, it didn't matter. And though the settlement would rebuild and live on to prosper, possibly faster than anyone yet gave credit, as things stood, Dianna very much felt like that big kid sitting in the park…
She could call herself queen all she wanted! But the title was as meaningless as the drifting piles of ash that caught on the wind. In all honestly, it really just came down to the fact she didn't at all feel like she deserved it… All that power, all that boasting. And what had she done with it? Play pretend at being a wealthy heiress, indulging in all the creature comforts afforded her?
They’d known where the entrance to the tricen den had been before Dianna had even gotten back from her first trip to the labyrinth! And in all that time, she had, within her power, the ability to head down into those depths all her own and likely wipe anything down there right off the face of this world. She could have flooded the halls in brilliant flames! Could have smashed her way through the nightmarish horde before they’d even gotten the chance to emerge… Presumably even, fighting back the strange thing that had stood at the instigator for it all. Surely, if her daughter had forced it into retreat, then she, with an entire tier of power above Tulla’s own, could have beaten the entity into submission or flight…
Days upon days had passed had passed. And through it all, Dianna had done exactly as her little girl had in her mother’s absence. Resting upon the laurels of her own narcissism, believing the work of delving into tunnels—beneath her… She’d been too powerful to worry over such paltry concerns when others could be dispatched to take care of it. Too important to care about the little details… and just look at what had happened...
“I never took you as the kind to sulk.” A familiar voice called to her, Dianna’s wings shifting as she sighed, not needing to turn around to speak.
“My niece is comatose, family mired in grief. The settlement I wanted to transform into a city looks like a charred piece of timber. My daughter is the hero that my comrades cheer for, and, best of all, I could have likely prevented all of this if only I’d taken things seriously… Forgive me for my brief plunge into depression, will you? I feel like it is earned as much as it's deserved…”
A body moved to stand next to her, not in close enough proximity for contact, yet her tail still shifted of its own accord, moving to wrap her husband around the waist and—enjoy what small semblance of comfort his presence brought her…
Arthur didn't say anything for some time. Both of them just staring out into the waning light, thoughts private while each ruminated on what was said and had been seen…
After a few minutes, her face began to twitch, Dinna's voice rising to an almost mocking tone that was filled with derision. “You're not going to say anything? No—jibes or snark? No I-told-you-so’s or words of good wishes that everything will be okay and fine and back to normal soon enough?”
“I could…” Arthur murmured, the slightest hint of a cynical smile bleeding through his words as he eventually sat down beside her, their legs dangling over the platform's edge. “But that’s not what you want to hear.”
“No?”
“Nope! You want me to be the one who confirms how badly you dropped the ball. To say you fucked up. That you failed, let everyone down. That you're not worthy of being a leader when, the very first time you're domain was attacked, you weren't even here to protect it.”
Dianna felt Arthur’s words as the rightful open-palmed slap that she, deep down, did desire. She wasn't even upset… honestly, he’d hit the nail perfectly on the head. She wanted to be told how terrible she was. Wanted to stew in her own dejection! Yet the blighted ass wouldn't even let her have that much, scooting closer to her to wrap Dianna in his arm.
“But. It's not you're fault.”
“Bullshit…”
“What? I'm serious! Don't you think I couldn't have sent my forces down there to clear it all out? Even if they might not have been successful on their own, I still could have done it! More, I could have ramped up production of my automatons to the point they alone could have dealt with all of this! I could have advocated that you head down there. I could have given myself powerful cards, traded of fought for what I needed to upgrade them and done it myself. There are all kinds of ways we can look back on it and see where we could improve… Hindsight and all that… But we didn't.”
“There were deaths, Arthur…”
“I know! Still doesn't change anything. You think Tavir and Cassie aren't kicking themselves for retreating while still underground? You don't think they regret letting Bianca go down there? They could have joined her. They could have asked for souls that would give them the edge they needed and could have spent days in the labyrinth trying to improve themselves. Why wallow in it? Something terrible happened, something well beyond our ability to even consider would ever come to pass. And it was Bianca who set it into motion before it's due time, assuming I have the right understanding of it.”
He scoffed, letting out a dark chuckle while Dianna silently listened, her mate carrying right along while sounding somewhat wistful… “Nobody is to blame Dianna. None caused what happened to transpire as it did save Bianca herself, and even then, I'm not advocating for laying the blame at her feet. There was a ticking bomb under us this whole time, and it would have eventually gone off and possibly in at a time where stakes might have been significantly higher.”
“Ha! So you're saying I should feel better about myself because everyone had a small hand in this disaster?”
“If that’s what you want to take away from it all, sure, why not? But in all honesty Dia, you're moping is pissing me off.” Dianna glanced at her mate, eyes narrowing slightly as he pulled away from her side, leaning forwards on elbows and knees while he continued. “You talked a really big game about responsibility. Convinced me to do something I wasn't keen to commit to because, in that moment, I’d believed you could do it. You're intelligent, strong, trained for war, hardened by it… You know what it’s like to be without, understand that the trappings of power involve more than just wearing a crown and pretending… Heck, you even seemed to make some small concessions about who you’d be willing to rule. Not just bal, not just you're kind. But many people. You told me we could free them and find them a place within what we want to build. Give them homes and work and purpose… take them away from the nightmare… do something good amidst all the bleak misery of this fucking universe…”
Arthur sighed, getting up and looking her way with a momentary glance that was oddly—cold from what she was used to… The sardonic and bitter smile that crept across his face showed for only a moment before he turned away again… “And yet, here we are. The first small bump in the road we come across… And you just—fall apart… You wander off and hide. Ignore the world around you and shelter yourself from all the sadness and despair… The strongest person in our community, the one that wants to call herself royalty, and what are you doing? Are you chasing after the entity that did this to wipe out its army? Are you travelling to whatever settlements you can find in an attempt to bring back as many as you can save? Are you taking charge? Assuring people that we can be better the next time this happens, be ready for it? No. You're up here, licking wounds that don't exist. Feeling sorry for yourself while others face what happened and deal with it.”
Her jaw slipping, Dianna couldn't help but watch as Arthur seemed to core out her very being, grinding it into the dust with all the mercy that she herself had shown him at the market. His voice was hard, words harsh and filled with icy reality, holding nothing back of his feelings or opinions on the matter until she felt a sort of strange clarity rise all around her. Like an approaching tide, the echo chamber of her wretched pessimism was washed away, and slowly, her body shifted, lifting from its slump as anger and frustration rose in her by equal measure!
“There you go…” Her husband grinned, nodding to himself curtly. “Like you said, this world isn't fair, this—the Lacunae isn't fair… So why should we be unprejudiced while dealing with it? We don't have to play by you're imperiums rules. Nor anyone else's. We can make something special out here! Hell, back on my world, one of the nicest places to live started out as a penile colony where people sent societies undesirables! I'm not saying we have to take criminals in, but there’s a genuine ocean of lost souls we can invite to be a part of—whatever comes next! The damage isn't that bad; people are already fixing what they can... This isn't the end of things, Dianna, so stop treating it as such...
Dianna simply breathed, allowing her wings to shake themselves out as she stood, looking down at her mate with a semblance of conflicted bemusement. He was right, and she hated him for it. Not the man himself, but more, his ability to see through to the center of her issues. Dianna didn't like displaying weakness. But her mate was astute as he was bold. And rather than let her brood, he’d reignited that flame in her belly that had her mind already speeding away with what she wanted to do…
“If we're going to do this, then I'm going to need to make my intentions clear, aren't I?”
“It's the start I was hoping would come about on its own before I came up here.”
“I'm not infallible, Arthur…”
“Then stop calling yourself a demi-god and work for it!”
“One time!” Dianna exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air with exasperation! “I mentioned the comparison one time to the girl, and she hasn't shut up about it in days!”
Still, Dianna pulled her husband into her embrace, leaning down to hold him against her while taking in a pleasing breath of his hair. The hints of sweat, anxiety, panic and adrenaline… all of it mixed with his natural musk and the lingering traces of his cologne… It was immediately comforting to her. For them both really… The stress had been mounting on both sides; she could feel as much given Arthur’s initial stiffness before he, inevitably, melted into her form…
Sadly, the time to be intimate was not that moment. And as much as the contact was needed, they both broke away… “We need to talk to Tavir. You're sister still hasn't left Bianca’s side but he’s been trying to keep things together.”
“You want me to bring you with me? Or are you going to walk?”
“No, I’ve got a few things I want to deal with beforehand… our talk can wait until there’s a spare moment… Benny and I are designing something to help re-level this—mess…” He sighed, waving a hand at the landscape before them… “I’m also going to take a stop by the triage tents we set up to see if there’s anything else I can… do…” The man paused for a beat, expression much like Dianna’s own slipping toward a frown. Each of their minds drifting over a topic that was difficult to confront… “Either way… The new barrier I set up should help with anything else trying to get at us.”
“I’ve been watching some children throw rocks at it, despite your machines warding them away from getting too close… what’s it do?”
“Teleports what goes through it into a giant incinerator.” Her mate sighed, almost grumbling under his breath, “fat load of good it did in the moment… but going forward, it's better than nothing, I guess… I thought I was so clever coming up with it, then Tulla turned into a damned snowball rolling down a hill!”
“Right…” Dianna intoned, not quite understanding what she presumed was one of her husband's idioms but leaving it where it lay all the same. “I’d say you should build another fence around it to stop people from going near, but I suspect that’s already a plan.”
“It wasn't, actually.”
“No?”
“What’s the point?” Arthur asked, barking a despairing laugh, “Bal can fly! The hell would a chainlink fence keep out?”
When Dianna simply kept her eyes on the man, one of her brows rising in silent question to his logic, she was earnestly surprised when he just watched her right back, no semblance of a eureka moment arising in his tired gaze. Well, she supposed she should follow her own reasoning in this. Nobody was perfect…
“Arthur, if we are to be soon about the business of swelling our community’s ranks with people we can purchase given your machines seem more than up to the task of operating in place of thralldom. As you suggested earlier, then there will be people here, presumably in greater quantity than my own, who don't actually have wings…”
“Oh god dammit…”
“I'm not saying you have to, but if you plan on keeping that barrier active at all times then—”
“No, you're right! Ugh… maybe I should work something like a power switch into it… That way, I can add it to Chuck’s responsibilities… Hmph! I'm probably going to need to make him a little brother to help with things…”
“You'll figure it out, dear; you always do…” Dianna smiled, kneeling down slightly to kiss her mate in a fairly chaste manner, no more than a simple peck.
Her wings were extended and she was leaping off the platform shortly thereafter, knowing Arthur was already on his way back to his little workshop.
Large portions of the landscape had been warned away from as they were evidently poisonous, an apparent reaction in the wake of their daughter’s onslaught. It wasn't anything that Arthur hadn't said couldn't be fixed, but for the time being, the settlement inhabitants were keeping to the spire all the same. By contrast, those she'd brought back with her were all being filled in on the details by a certain secret person who had been taking care of her family without Dianna even being aware of his existence...
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The spire wasn't ruined… The core structure was still very much standing tall and strong. However, it was the many homes themselves that had suffered from a fire. Due to the nature of its construction, only the first two platforms had seen any true damage. And of them, only the second had actually held anything of meaning to its inhabitants.
Of the spire’s three levels, the top had, by and large, been spared all but superficial marring. And, as the community had come together to prepare things for those who would follow after them, shelter wasn't so much responsible for the weight of despondency as it could be attributed to those who’d been lost.
More than half a century was wiped out in a desperate clash beneath the ground. Their officer, the daughter of the community’s leadership, broken in the mind… Deaths of loved ones, family and comrades that hadn't managed to escape the horde… And yet, already, people were starting to rebuild.
Funerals would be held in the traditional fashion, at night and by pyre whilst under root light. Even if there were no bodies, the symbolism was what mattered: respect offered and given to a life well spent.
For now, villagers were already beginning to tear down what was too far beyond saving. The construction tarots that her husband had supplied them ripped down everything but the foundations of that which the flames had consumed. While the dwellings themselves were partially made of timber, the stone that made up the spire’s core was an effective barrier between levels that fire could rarely penetrate. If ever there was a major loss, it was usually contained to the district it originated from.
As Dianna understood it, this part hadn't actually been caused by her daughter, but rather, her husband, inadvertently or otherwise. Not that it likely changed much, all things considered… The loss of life had been what truly mattered. The spire still stood. The land would heal as it always did, and the next time something like this threatened to transpire, Dianna would make sure, in no uncertain context, that dangers posed to her home would be met with overwhelming and indiscriminate violence.
Arthur had been right. Playing at family politics had been all well and good, even amusing from a certain perspective… But it was time to get serious about her desires if ever they were to truly come to fruition. She believed the phrase her husband had used upon a time was, shitting or getting off the pot. A terribly vivid but no less accurate portrayal of the situation at large. And, regardless of how much in shambles the settlement felt, the reality was that it still stood as a gleaming beacon in the fog when compared to the shanty they were living in before.
People died. It was a fact of life. In war, famine or sickness. By accident, by premeditation, or even through one's own choice, whatever the reasons behind such might be. It was time to look to the future. To plan for what came next and set about the groundwork for what Dianna had slowly found her imagination building in her own thoughts. Arthur hadn't been wrong. In fact, she’d even liked a few of the comments he’d made during their trip to Kaitrice. Surprisingly, and in their own unique way, she found that her vision for the future had been, amusingly, corrupted by her husband’s ideals, if for somewhat alternate reasons than his own.
They simply didn't view the world before them in the same way… But that was okay. Strangely enough, their differing ways of thinking oddly flattered one another. And while Dianna understood she was perhaps not the most—well, compassionate individual in the world... When an idea posed was more than mere altruism for the sake of benevolence alone, she was not above listening to it and offering it its due consideration for how it might further her goals.
After all, the legions hadn't been so successful because their ideas were wholly unique to her people. Heck, they’d stolen the very concept from a culture that had long since been conquered. Military success came about from discipline, competent commanders, professional soldiery and having better weapons than those you were fighting. There really wasn't anything else to it… And she knew that the very same could be replicated, in its own way, regardless of their forces being made up of bal or something alternate…
It wasn't hard to find the man she was looking for, her brother was on the second platform, working with all the other’s, ripping apart the old and putting together the new. In many ways, it almost felt like nothing had changed.
Looking back, remembering those short months spent clogging holes in walls with dirt and leaves… Of digging latrines, eating berries picked from wild bushes and animals seasoned with little else than the smoke of fire… It was truly—inspiring just how far things had come. How much they’d changed. Adapted… And while the mood was heavy, small aspects of cheer could be found wherever she looked.
It was the small things, the slight fits of laughter. The comforting words and palms on shoulders. The smell of roasting meat as animals were slowly spun on spits over open flames, those who were hungry simply wandering over and tearing themselves off a morsel or two between the intervening junctures of work.
It made how she’d, prior to Arthur’s intervention, been acting seem so much worse than it already had… And it doubtless would have further estranged her had her mate not managed to speak sense into her addled mind…
She landed nearby, walking the final dozen or so steps towards her brother, who, in noticing her arrival, paused in his work to offer Dianna a somewhat forced grin. His arms opening to greet her much as her own did for him, and they embraced as family, just as they had many times before.
“We need to speak in private.” She stated, her words brokering no argument.
For his part, Tavir released her, offering a thoughtful look at her expression before clearing his throat and nodding. He did briefly glance around himself to see if anyone appeared in need of his council, but the truth of the matter was that there were few who didn't understand what community truly entailed. The villagers were far from wayward children without the means to think for themselves, and between them all, there were more than enough options and advice to go around.
“I suppose… now is as good a time as any to talk about the matters I suspect are to be our topics?”
“The sooner the better. Things are going to start changing, and those deviations from our ways are going to arrive quite quickly. We owe it, not just to our people here, but those who will join us to begin making certain expectations—known.”
“Alright!” Tavir grunted, taking in a deep breath before stretching his back, the man’s bones popping and cracking with the effort. “But, there’s another we should be including in this conversation.”
“Another?”
“Aye. But, worry not, darling, it will make sense once we find him.”
Acting centurion Korvil glanced from one set of eyes to the other. Then, turned from where he’d been seated and offered a sharp whistle, his gaze locked on his adjunct as the older woman perked, noticed what was happening and then sighed.
“Come on, Faira, don't be like that…” He complained as the woman in question rose with exaggerated pains to her existence and strolled over to his side.
Korvil himself stood up to greet the two newcomers to their small camp right as the veteran mage reached his side. Putting on as congenial a smile as he could manage for all his hazy thoughts...
“Centurion!” The older and rather broad-shouldered man greeted. The familial resemblance to his commander and her sire was both immediately noticeable as it was with the large woman at his side. Tavir was a handsome devil of a grizzled soldier, as rugged and nearly heroic in appearance as any centurion could hope to be. The sort that inspired those around a person to be more than they could ever hope to stand as whilst alone.
And while his centurion generally liked to keep herself somewhat absent of any obvious attempts at femininity, she was no less beautiful for it, which could invoke a certain kind of inspiration all its own... Likewise, he knew who the taller woman was, regardless of introductions or lack thereof. Had listened intently during what few moments Bianca had opened up about her life. And perhaps even more than her own parents, the individual so often complained about, idealized and spoken of was the woman’s aunt. Senior veteran Dianna. A name somewhat infamous amidst the rank and file old enough to remember a time when she’d been her legion's chief drill instructor for new recruits.
Beautiful as she was, heartless…
Still, Korvil straightened himself. He’d been under Dianna’s lash during his own days as a sapling, and Tavir was a respectable officer with a long list of decorations for his valour and effectiveness in battle. They might be retired, but he paid his respects where respect was due.
“Korvil! I remember you!” Dianna smiled, her grin less malicious than he remembered but no less frightening to behold… “And Faira… I thought they were to give you a posting as a centurion?”
“Declined it.” The old mage grunted, clasping arms with the taller woman who, evidently, knew the terrifying drill master on a personal level. “I'm too old to care after that much responsibility. They tried to shove money at my face, but I shoved it right back! I like where I am; dealing with mages is what I’m good at… though…” She added somewhat sourly, “I doubt much of that will matter soon enough…”
Korvil spared his acting second a somewhat annoyed look, though he couldn't—deny things weren't necessarily good given what had happened. But he’d done what he could. Dispatch had been sent with all due haste. Messengers having used the Kaitrice archway to get their reports all the way to Londis as fast as they could.
The decision to remain in the ravaged settlement had been a—difficult one to make. But, for Korvil, it had ultimately been about survival. He was practical enough to realize there was nothing they could do against the creature that had emerged from the tomb. A sentiment that was shared by Faira, who had agreed with his decision to keep their force stationed where they were. He had no official commission to replace their commander but with Bianca beyond the capacity to act in her function and with several of their people deserting in the labyrinth following their timely espace… All that was left of the century was twenty-three of their original hundred. An almost depressing number that made them little more than a ragged band of deserters themselves...
Even if they went back to command, it was easy to see that they’d be blamed for what had transpired, regardless of both his own and Faira’s opinions, that they’d only spurred an event that would have happened with or without them. But that was the problem with duty, now, wasn't it? In the legions, you were often damned if you did as much as you were damned if you didn't. Shit flowed downhill, and it had a tendency to build up and cake upon the lowest ranks involved in a shitshow of this sort of proportions.
Yet, somehow, the settlement had survived and even warded away the entity that had singlehandedly slaughtered forty or more good men and women with but a glance… And if there was one thing Korvil knew, it was that he’d rather be here than out there with the tide of death that was coming. As it happened, their senior mage felt a rather similar degree of pragmatism. Loyalty to the imperium or otherwise, neither wanted to die...
His focus snapped back towards the conversation once Faira and Dianna had finished exchanging pleasantries, all present looking in his direction as his mind quickly pieced through the snippets had had retained while delving into his own thoughts.
“Ah, yes… well, I suppose our—plan as it were, was to see after how our centurion fares… and—after, follow her lead, wherever it would have taken us…”
“What he means to say is that we were waiting for an opportune moment to approach you regarding a more permanent stay…” Faira commented, her urbane and nearly monotonous voice stretching out her words as they arrived.
“My—daughter is not doing well… Sadly, I suspect you will be without your centurion for some time. My wife is seeing to her treatment as we speak, and unfortunately, the last I heard was that what visible corruption was present has all but abated. Her injuries have been healed, and still, she does not wake. It means—it… means…”
“There is damage to the mind…” Dianna finished, placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder and offering a small squeeze. “It's not uncommon to pull through such things with time, but for now, you should not hedge your bets on relying upon her orders.”
“Miss Casandra said very much the same…” Korvil nodded, a solum weariness overcoming his eyes… “Still, what remains of our force would, if I can be frank, rather avoid returning to the army if you can imagine why that might be…”
“Oh, doubtless, someone would manage to blame you a lot for what happened! Not that my niece's decision would have been any different than my own had I been in her position, but you're survivors would doubtless face court marshal, and worse, if we were all honest with ourselves. I’ve seen executions for lesser blunders than unleashing such darkness upon our own forces…”
Both Faira and Korvil himself squirmed at that… The mage because they’d doubtless say she should have known what dangers could arise in tampering with the crypt as they had. And he because, regardless of what command would assure him, if they’d returned without trying to break the seal, they’d be labelled as cowards and punished accordingly. The legions did not reward nor forgive failure. And while Bianca would doubtless take the brunt of any reprimand in store for them, it would by no means end with her resultant punishment.
“I believe you are not mistaken on such matters.” He eventually allowed, nodding his head with a sharp intake of breath. “I don't suppose there’s an opportunity for a little mutual aid born of shifting loyalty?”
The tall woman chuckled at his words while Tavir reached out and slapped him on his shoulder, a reassuring gesture that had Korvil immediately at ease. He had no idea how what had transpired here came about, but it hadn't been lost on him that the settlement had something about it that reeked of the absurd. He wouldn't mind partaking in whatever it was when the alternatives weren't quite so warm and fuzzy...
“Don't worry, lad, we’ll take you in. But, there are—things that you should be aware of…” So saying, the man glanced at Dianna who, after taking a small breath, picked up where he left off.
“I’ll take that as your agreement to abdicate, then?”
“You won't hear complaints from me, Dia… nor many others in the village. So far as I'm concerned, we're already alone out here anyway… And even if that thing doesn't succeed in what I think it is heading to do, the imperium isn't going to give two shits about what’s left out here…”
“You're receding from the republic?” Faira murmured, a spark of understanding filling her eyes. “I mean, it makes sense… You have a means to the labyrinth, the means to create a spire, and evidently an army of golems… Far be it from me to ask how any of that's possible, but…”
“Dianna is going to make herself queen of our little paradise! And I support her for it. Somebody needs to be in charge, and it's fitting that it should be her, regardless.”
“Typical dictator rules,” Dianna smiled, her wing wrapping around her brother, “he and or she who is strongest gets to be in charge!”
“Don't sell yourself short! You’ll do well at everything else surrounding violence, I'm sure…”
Faira shrugged, not seeming that bothered by the news. “Not many people around to rule over… not that I’m complaining or anything… A governor or royalty, either way, It's not like I ever had much say in things…”
Korvil didn't exactly agree with that sentiment, though the issue that was population did catch his interest, especially since naming oneself royalty felt somewhat shallow with so few around… Yet, his uncertainties were at least touched upon as the alleged queen herself made to answer that little quandary.
“You’ll be surprised at the speed at which new people will be arriving. I plan to attract as much immigration from the labyrinth as I can.”
“Probably be no shortage of refugees seeking a place to live.”
“Oh, I'm not restricting things to our people alone. The imperium is what our kind know as home, and I'm not going to fight them on that front. No, my intention is to very much do as Kaitrice does.”
“Truly?”
“Im far from a supremisist Faira, and besides.” She added, manifesting two souls in her hands and proffering them to the pair of legionnaires before her, “I’ve need of talent, no matter what form they take. That includes the two of you… In all honesty, we need help, and so do our kindred spread across this world.” She paused for a span, eying them both as Korvil glanced at what he’d just been given with disbelieving eyes, blinking away momentary befuddlement as his potential new—liege continued… “We need to evacuate as many people as we can, and anyone who is willing to bend the knee and join my army will receive—many gifts…”
Faira simply cackled, sounding like a laughing hyena that might very well be positively mad with delight, while he… Well, for Korvil, several pieces of a rather strange puzzle finally slid into place…
“We have the means to collect you're families from wherever they might be,” Tavir commented, looking at both soldiers, one at a time. “We can recover them from Londis or wherever else they might reside. But we're going to need to act quickly. Dia, those souls…”
“Available for all who wish to reenlist. I'm going to have Tulla spearheading efforts to locate as many settlements as we can find… Somehow, I doubt what happened here will be—unique…”
Korvil and Faira shared a small look with one another. And, like that, the man knew they were bought…
It was late when Arthur opened a portal from his home and stepped into the temporary hospital that had been erected on the spire's third platform. His gaze roving over the myriad of beds, many of them already empty, but at least a third still held occupants…
“How’s she doing?” He asked, eyes finally falling upon a woman who was sitting on a bedside chair, her hands clasped in the unresponsive fingers of her daughter, who lay on a cot without stirring.
“She’s—alive…”
Arthur nodded at that, moving to stand next to Cassandra, rubbing at the woman's shoulder as she stared at Bianca’s unessing expression. Bianca didn't even seem to register his presence, nor that of her mother as she lay amidst her sheets, an almost serene mask held in place while her mind remained disconnected from the body. Her appearance was almost doll-like and glassy-eyed... so unlike the woman he'd, only not that long ago, met and had been threatening him at his very doorstep...
“I could try—”
“No, it's alright… I’ve seen this sort of thing before, Arthur…” Cassandra turned to him, her smile thin, but her features hardened as stone, her opinion on the matter, just as it had been before, like iron. “Healing isn't so simple as you might think it is, dear… Even with a tarot meant for that very purpose, there is a reason why so many must study more than magic to qualify as a practitioner in the art. Heal a wound you forget to sanitize? Infection. Forget to remove any fragmentation of foreign objects? Infection. Fail to properly set a bone or understand the complex workings of the body, and you may as well just rebreak the damned thing and start over… It's even worse with injuries to the mind… those can be disastrous if treated by healers who don't understand what they're doing.”
Arthur nodded at that, briefly wondering how it could be so different between the cards he’d made Dianna and Tulla, but the woman evidently knew where his mind was going and spoke towards that end without missing a beat.
“It comes down to intent. The soul you gave my sister enhances her body's natural capabilities to heal itself, and the body does know things about itself that we ourselves often take for granted. A healing card meant to apply external magic to the equation relies on intent, education and competence to be successful. Now, if my little girl could take such a card as you gave Dia into her soul, then I suspect it would help. But—”
“I get it…” Arthur sighed, not exactly happy but understanding all the same. He personally thought he could manage it, but it wasn't his decision to make… And he wasn't going to force it... Thinking oneself to know better than everyone else around you at all times was a fairly slippery slope he'd been trying to avoid all month...
“She will pull through this," Cassandra whispered, pulling in a shuddering breath as she did so. "Bianca is at silver, and our metamorphosis does offer a semblance of enhanced regeneration… It will take time, but she’ll put herself back together all her own… trust me.”
Arthur nodded at that. Leaving things in that regard as they were. He'd made his offers, and he wouldn't push any further. Instead, he changed tangents, shifting the conversation elsewhere...
“Have you eaten anything?”
“Not... yet.”
“Cassandra…”
“Don't lecture me; I know what I’ve been doing and what I haven't.”
“Either way, you need to rest. Tavir is going to send people over to stand vigil. You and I are going to head to the funerals and the meeting thereafter.
“Am I now?”
“It’s your choice, Cass… I'm not here to force you… But we’d rather have you present when Dianna is announcing herself as the ruler of the settlement tonight. And more for the planning that will follow. The thing that did this to Bianca is still out there. Tavir thinks it's heading towards Rijol to confront the imperium’s army… And we have some hard decisions to make in that regard…”
“Dianna’s thinking of leaving them to their fate?”
Arthur looked away, head softly swivelling to eye Liasa, who lay on a bed nearby. Silent but listening in all the same. He smiled at her and offered a slight nod to the terribly exhausted-looking woman before he replied in a quiet voice. “She’s not the only one who made the suggestion. There’s a consensus that the legions won't buckle from such numbers, given their own. And, that while it might sting them and set them on a path of retreat…”
“But you don't share their sentiment?”
“Actually, I do. There’s no way a force that size is going to do any real damage to the numbers I’ve been led to understand are involved. They hurt us, to be sure, but what did we have? Less than a hundred people and a bunch of my golems? If they were driven away with just that…” Arthur hesitated, clearing his throat before meeting Cassandra’s crossed pupils. “No, the issue was all the reinforcements that were swarming in from outside the settlement. I can't say for certain, but if that thing out there was raising the dead and calling them to its banner, then it creates a wholly new paradigm to be concerned over… If it spends its time building its forces, or if, as Faira suggested, this wasn't an isolated event, then… I don't know…”
Cassandra rose from her seat with a small sigh of her own, seeming to understand the importance, if not looking like she wholly cared... “Then clearly, we need to plan for what happens if it decides to come back…”
“Among other things…”
Nodding, Cassandra turned to peer at Liasa, who offered a small waggle of her fingers in a wave.
Arthur couldn't help but grin at that; seeing the girl’s obvious willingness to keep a positive outlook was infectious, and he resolved to try and get to know her somewhat better in the future. He suspected they might get along fairly well, all things considered. Generally, people who could take the punches sent their way and keep smiling were of a sort he got along with.
“Lia, make sure whoever is on detail here performs their duties properly, will you? I’ll have the hide of any who think this an opportunity to catch up on sleep.”
“I’ll take the whip to them myself, senior magi.”
“There’s a good soldier.” Cassie smiled, offering her a wink before turning to leave the tent.
The evening was dark as Arthur stood outside; the slight chill in the air biting at his skin vanished with the sudden roaring flames. Stacks of logs had been set in neat rows... Some were holding bodies at their centers, others little more than mementoes of those who had placed them in remembrance of the dead. There were few tears that he observed in the proceedings. Stern faces and resolved determination replacing grief in a manner which was... fitting for those around him that he'd come to know.
In his arms, Tulla pressed in from his front, the girl now nearly to his shoulders... the stoic pride and quiet zeal for her kin all but radiating from her form... A semblance of silent promise toward vengeance seeping from her person like a miasma of simmering fury... The sentiment was shared among those around her. The ceremony was as much a dedication to the deceased as it was a commitment. People were angry. Frustrated. And already, Dianna had no shortage of people volunteering to join their new army, young as such a thing might be.
But for this night, they reserved themselves for those that were lost. Curiously, it was the memory, not the soul which was venerated. No tarots were left in the arms of those that had passed, nor had any been attempted to be placed for those of whom no bodies could be found. Just simple words and well wishes. Whispers of regrets, guarantees of aid for the family left behind. And, curiously enough, jokes... strange as such a thing was.
It was so absurdly backwards that, in a universe that possessed not just proof of a soul but a tangible value to such a thing, that so many would hardly care after it when concepts of the afterlife could be observed. Back home, billions had perished beneath the ideal that was one's eternal spark and to where such a thing might eventually find itself, in spite of any noteworthy evidence of its existence. And yet, here he was, surrounded by those who accepted that a soul was merely one small piece of the individual. But a fraction, not even important enough to mention at a funeral...
The memories: who a person was, what they'd done and how they'd mattered to those around them. That was, in the end, all that counted in the Lacunae... The best way those who sent their friends and family off on one final voyage could best pay respects to those moving onto the next stage of their journey, wherever and whenever that might be. And strangely, as the embers of flames rose to dissipate amidst the infinite network of silver above, those countless shimmering worlds floating amidst the endless expanse, as far as one's eye might see, Arthur found he enjoyed the change for what it was... Cheering as loud as he was able whilst he raised a stein with those all around him, laughing amidst those that still remained, joyus even, as they all shared a drink for the dead...