JUDGMENT
Turning the clock back, we find many clues as to his origin—across the Coral Sea, far to the west. His appearance has been warped over time by countless retellings, but from some of his more notable characteristics—a stature far taller than most, a bulky frame, and a thick mane of hair—we place his origins in where is now known as Eirie. This, of course, aligns with the exodus of Eiko 17 (gengō era) which saw millions making the treacherous crossing across the Coral Sea as their homes were razed to ashes behind them. Most of them lost their lives, but Korol must have been amongst the lucky few. He never once returned to his homeland.
- from “The Invasion of Eirie” by August Ensenga
EVIE
“What’s happening? Who’s out there?” I asked, trembling, as Oracle hovered before me.
“Mobius detected signatures approaching us. The Progenitor will handle it. Her orders were for you to stay put.”
“No! Why? Why can’t I go with her?”
“Because those were her orders.”
“So? She’s unarmed! I have a sword—she told me to protect her!”
Oracle’s sigil glowered. “If she needed your protection, she would have ordered you to join. She did not. Stay put.” I could have shoved past him, but Oracle had always held an otherworldly, fearsome aura—he knew, somehow, the machinations of the world and their demands. Everything is fine. It has to be, or Oracle would have done something. I slunk against the wall, sitting there with my knees drawn to my chest, my sword on the floor. Everything will be fine. I just have to do as I am told.
The noise grew louder, rising into a cacophony of marching, shaking chainmail, and shouts. I knew this sound very well—the sound of a mob, hungry for blood. “Oracle,” I murmured. “Oracle, you have to do something—”
“Let her handle it.” To him, your word was law. Oracle was a machine, after all. This is what he was programmed to do. I could do nothing but obey, clenching the hilt of my sword. For what? To protect myself? I should be out there, with you! I choked back tears at how helpless I was. All I can do is prance about with a sword. It is like you said—I have only slayed animals, but never a man.
My blood turned to ice, warning me. Of what? A moment later your bloodcurdling screams split the air and rent my heart. “Oracle!” I yelled. “I have to—”
“What you have to do is stay put. I was ordered to keep you safe in here—”
I scrabbled against the floor, grabbed my sword, heavier than lead in my numb hand, and climbed to my feet. I shoved Oracle aside and rushed out of my room, rounded the corner—and halted, frozen where I stood. Beyond the stone floor, through the cavern entrance, I saw you: your limbs drooping like those of a marionette with its strings cut, a crimson sword stemming from your spine. Your grey robes were dyed in a deep red blooming like a rose. The man in front of you twisted his blade—and you screamed, howled, with the same voice that you spoke so gently with, warped, but unmistakably yours. This was butchery—not combat, but slaughter. You were unarmed, yet skewered like a pig. I could not even raise my sword.
“Flush the cave,” a woman said, and even through the wind’s gale I recognised her voice. Why is she here? How did she find us? Why you, and not me? I’m the one she wants!
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Oracle slammed into my head from behind and I whirled to face him. “We must leave,” he said, his sigil flickering faster than ever.
“Leave?! I’m armed. I have to go out there! They’re carrying Alice away!”
“No. Her orders were to keep you safe. You cannot even raise your sword where you stand—do you think you could fare against a horde of soldiers?” Oracle floated past me, his eye evaluating the scene. “They are almost upon us. Go, now. Follow me!” He orbited my head and rushed deeper into the cave. I looked back at the entrance, but your body was gone. Only a large puddle of drying blood remained, soon to be buried by the falling snow. I choked back tears. How can I leave? I should have forced you to stay here and gone out to face them myself. The thought crushed me with guilt. Forced you? How? With my sword? The same sword that I am unable to raise now?
“Go!” Oracle slammed into my head from behind again, beckoning me to follow. I turned and fled down the stone corridor into the depths of the cavern, my eyes swimming in tears, my useless sword trailing behind me as I gripped its hilt, desperate for protection. Chainmail and boots echoed off the stone as the soldiers stepped into the cave—then, the smell of fire. I have to trust Oracle. His judgement is absolute, without bias, without error. That is why you placed your trust in him and not me. I cannot trample that trust. I must not!
We rushed through the cavern, Oracle keeping pace with me and lighting the way with his sigil, my footsteps echoing against the arched stone roof above. The gravel beneath shredded the soles of my feet, but I was beyond caring. The ground rumbled and my chest thrummed as Mobius’s engines spun to life, its startup sequence initiated remotely by Oracle. The soldiers would hear us, but it did not matter—we just had to reach the ship first.
We burst into the clearing, the grass blanketed in snow save for a circle under Mobius. Its engines had already spooled and de-iced, roaring just below takeoff threshold, its hull hissing as hot steam vented from its wings. Its array of navigation lights blinked red, circling its hull. The steam ceased for a moment to let me pass unscalded. I stepped onto the boarding platform, which rose immediately, pulling me on board.
I dropped my sword and scrambled for the cockpit, throwing myself into the pilot’s seat, remembering the startup procedure from when you first took me to space. I swept from right to left, flicking switches on each panel and skipping those that I knew were unnecessary, almost by instinct.
“I understand the rush, but that is no excuse to skip the checklist—”
“Shut up! This ship has sonar, right? Turn it on and find her!” Mobius’s sonar powered up, pointed in all directions, and pulsed once, rattling my eyes. I slammed open the throttle while keeping the thrusters angled downwards in VTOL configuration. The ship rose, its hull groaning, a whale amidst clouds, the winged beast. My vision pulsed as Oracle diverted power into the directional-scanner, bathing our surroundings in sonar.
“Do you see them?” The ship rose steadily out of the clearing, but all I could see was snow. The blizzard had picked up.
“There’s too much ground clutter. We need to get closer, and lower.”
I spun the ship, wrenching every flight surface—the wings, the ailerons, the flaps and the rudder—to bank violently towards the entrance to the cave, tracing our trajectory in my mind. Structural alarms blared, but I ignored them as I raised the thrusters and accelerated forwards, maintaining an angle-of-attack that would bring us lower. Only the instruments could guide me in this raging storm.
“They’re not calibrated. Check your altitude,” Oracle warned.
“I know. Are we near the mouth of the cave?” Are we near where he ran you through with a rusty sword, tortured you like a bug beneath his heel?
“Off by ten degrees. Yaw left to align. Still, we can only assume they are heading back the way they came. They might have taken a different route, or made a detour. I will diffuse the directional scan to accommodate.”
“No, narrow it. Beam a cone straight ahead.”
“Are you sure? We will miss anything outside its radius.”
“The priestess would never take anything but the straight path. Narrow it and extend range!”