“You can’t just wait around forever Silas,” Sergeant Glass spoke up for the umpteenth time this week as he pushed his brown hair aside. “Your brother went off to become an Empyrean, who's to say you can’t? Just sign up for the City Guard and-”
“Enough, Glass” Silas smiled, polishing off the barrel of the Deium Revolver in his hand. “Why do anything like that? I much rather just wait for my brother to come back and take me to the Capital himself.”
It was only a year ago that his twin brother was found talented, immediately pushed towards the capital and leaving him behind to continue his apprenticeship at the gunsmith. Silas didn’t have nearly the amount of talent Sebastian did when it came to Cultivation, instead he much preferred the smell of oil at the shop.
He dumped the bullets from the firearm, stowed them carefully in a small ornate box and turned to Glass with a sigh. The young man filled out the Guardsmen uniform much more than he did a few years ago, but he still just looked like that bright eyed scammer to Silas. “What’s your deal, anyway? Everyday with you, trying to get me to join.”
Silas finished cleaning up the workshop as Sergeant Glass grumbled to himself silently. The floor was spotless, the guns were locked away and the ammunition was kept, also locked, in a separate room for inspection when Glade showed up tomorrow morning. Satisfied, he finally left The Golden Gun for the day.
Sergeant Glass followed Silas out as he stepped into the bustling street of Ironside, its cobblestone steps lit up by electric lamps and the Nine Stars alike as dusk fell. Folks were rushing home on foot while the occasional horse carriage moved its way through the crowds. Nearly every day for a year, this young Guard followed him about in an attempt to recruit him with various arguments Nearly every day he was turned down.
Silas gave the kind man who ran the bread stall a few coins, bought the cheaper, charred or stale bread leftover from the day before and hailed his usual carriage. The Sergeant grew quiet for a few moments.
“Dropping it off for the kids again?”
“Aye.”
“Caisus still there?”
“Aye.”
The walk resumed in silence and the buildings on the road grew shorter. The bricks looked old and loose, the roads filled with holes and the air losing its typical salty smell as they ascended Ironside. No sight of a gentleman’s cane or hat on anyone’s clothes while they all found their ways home after work in the refinery or the mine. The electric lamps grew old and their lights dull, the glow of the Nine and the Moon being all that was left to guide their way to the Orphanage.
He had been coming here every day for four years and he didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.
Tipping the driver a couple pennies, Silas approached the Orphanage with quiet steps and knocked gently against the thick oak door. When it opened after a few moments, he pushed his way inside with Glass and hugged the Director.
The Director was an older gentleman now, a retired noble from the Lower City. His black hair was littered with traces of silver and his eyes were murky, yet he still insisted he walked with a cane because it was what a gentleman should do and not because he was too old to walk without it.
Yet he didn’t have the time to contemplate the Director’s growing age as the pitter patter of footsteps rapidly approached and a small child suddenly leapt into his arms. Silas barely caught the figure with a laugh before setting him back down on the ground. “It’s good to see you, Caisus.” Silas grinned, placing the bread down on the table at the side. “Have all the other kids gone to sleep?”
“Fortunately. Otherwise the place would be a mess for dinner. Come, sit, sit. Tell us about your day.” The Director tapped twice with his cane before leading the three to their seats. Silas helped the younger boy climb up into his seat and chuckled when he bounced up and down with excitement. Caisus was only a couple years old when he was dropped off; just before he left with his brother.
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Silas ate quietly, his gaze lingering on the older man’s face- the wrinkles that slowly began to carve through his skin. The stew he served was the same but the man grew older still. He forced himself to put on a smile when Caisus asked about his day, telling him all about how the guns worked and what peculiar customer commissioned a gun that day.
It was dark by the time he left the Orphanage with Glass, making it one of the only times of day where Silas didn’t mind the man practically being stuck to him. The Upper City was not only impoverished but dangerous; in a city like Ironside, known for its firearms, he wouldn’t put it past the criminals to have a revolver or a lever action. An Empyrean wasn’t bulletproof by any means but he certainly had a better chance of dealing with the situation than Silas did.
“Silas?”
Some Empyreans were, though. The stronger ones could even fly according to Sebastian. His letters were practically filled with stories of how Empyreans defeated Vraelyn in battle or how the Sanguine Emperor forced the Churches out of Ilnea. Would Sebastian be that strong one day?
“Silas!” Sergeant Glass grabbed him firmly and shook him. “Look. The fuck. Up!”
Silas shook him off with a grunt, glad the Sergeant didn’t put much strength into the grab as he looked up. “What could possibly be worth putting your hands on me for?”
Ilnea’s sky looked no different than usual. Eight golden Stars illuminated the night sky even amidst the light of the city. A crow flew by, briefly covering them up and leaving only seven golden stars.
Wait.
Eight? Seven?
As if in sync, the remaining seven stars rapidly disappeared from the night sky and left only the moon to shine upon the earth. The air felt suffocating, like something was gone. Missing. Gasps rang out as families looked out their windows or stood by their open doors, watching the sky grow dark together. Silas felt a weight on his heart whilst his hands grew slick with sweat in the cold fall weather, silently adjusting his glasses.
“I need to go talk to Old Isaac. Now. Silas, you need to get home-” Glass was cut off by Silas’ hand over his mouth. Even as he stared at the sky, as he registered the world missing its Stars, those meant to represent the gods, something else poked at the back of his mind. The sound. Like rushing water. “Do you hear that?”
“What? No.” The Sergeant scoffed while Silas slowly lowered his gaze to the street. It sounded just like the waves crashing against the cliff., but they were too high up for that. He stared down the street towards the elevator leading up to the next level of the city. The street lights were going out as the sound came closer. Only a block away now.
Glass’ eyes suddenly narrowed and he pulled Silas to the closest side alley. A torrential black cloud swiftly filled the street and poured into the alley, washing over the two. It first felt good; like a soft cloud gently comforting him. Then it dug into his skin like needles. It burrowed into his pores and filled his lungs as he screamed soundlessly. It lit his muscles on fire and hollowed his bones, trying to fill them with something else. Then everything was black.
Only a soft blue light gave his mind comfort as he slept.
Silas felt sore when he finally woke up. The hardwood against his back felt rough, his jacket, shirt and vest haphazardly torn off. A putrid smell of iron and rot filled the room and forced his expression to turn sour. He heard a loud sigh of relief.
His skin stung against the open air, his breathing felt weak and he could now very much make sound, yet he felt better. Pure. Whatever that darkness was that washed over the street was, it made him feel unclean. Wrong. His body felt broken and battered but it still felt right. Complete.
Silas saw Sergeant Glass sitting against the wall, his guard uniform torn in several places and a foul black blood staining its blue fabric. His arm hung limply at his side yet he smiled regardless, as if he simply couldn’t feel it. A table was smashed next to him, as was an uncanny grey figure. Silas could tell the Sergeant’s breathing was ragged and his injuries terrible; the department issued revolver strapped to his hip by ripped cloth and the sword in hand visibly dull. Just what had happened?
“I’m sorry about your clothes.” Glass wheezed, “But I couldn’t afford to be slow once I got you inside. I didn’t know what would happen.”
“What?”
Sergeant Glass coughed and motioned to the grey figure at the side. “I didn’t know what the black fog would do to you. I watched everyone else..”
Slowly, Silas pushed himself to his feet and looked around the room. A typical kitchen had been thrown into disarray. The stove was smashed to pieces and its parts destroyed. The Deium Lamp broken and replaced by a mundane candle. The furniture torn to pieces and splintered across the room, outlining the many grey silhouettes on the ground.
“Glass, what the fuck are those things.” Silas practically shouted. The front door abruptly shook, high pitched shrieks and roars coming from the other side. His face paled and he practically jumped out of his skin. “Glass they’re wearing clothes. Our clothes. People clothes!”
“They’re people.” Glass stated, pushing his arm back into its socket with a grunt. “The fog got them. That’s why I had to check you.”
“Wait, what? Check me? Am I turning into one of those things?”
The guard laughed. His green eyes shifted away from Silas’ gaze and landed on the wall next to him. “Uh, I don’t.. think so?.”
Speechless, Silas dropped to the floor again next to him and stared at the dead ‘people’. Monsters. Each one different. The largest had several eyes like a spider and large, sharp green nails. Another had six arms and no legs while the last one had bone spurs covering its flesh.
“Look, I dragged you out of the fog as soon as I could. I think my blood energy warded it off for us but-”
“Are you saying only Empyreans can resist it?”
Silence reigned for the next few moments and a defeated expression fell upon Glass’ face. “On purpose, yes. I think for everyone else it’s just.. luck.”
Silas’ body relaxed against the wall as he realised just how fucked they were. Empyreans were rare, one in every few dozen, and most weren’t strong. Ironside had tens, if not hundreds of thousands of people spread out across the cliff. The Upper City held the majority, as well as the only way out.
[Suitable Host Found]
[Greetings, Silvanus Albrecht]
What?
[You have been chosen, Wayfinder]
[Welcome to the Ascension Lotus]