Her thoughts turned to her hasty departure from the One-Eighth less than a day ago. She'd probably fucked everything up with her sudden transfer of power and in her haste to leave, but hopefully things would turn out.

Between the Mune organizing things and providing some skilled artisans, Aliasara managing the people, the Sect importing or breeding who-knew what to help them, that Arborian dwarf lady with the seeds and the green thumb, a grudging agreement by the Ink Parser guy to supply those ConMach machine whatevers sooner rather than later, plus a quick talk imparting the surprising amount she remembered about metallurgy and steel forging with a Mune metal smith... yeah, she could lay off the guilt a bit.

She belatedly realized she'd put Alerestro in charge of tracking down the Professor's killers, then promptly taken him with her. Hopefully Cleft Hand would lay off it now that she'd given up the verse, though by the way he'd snubbed her and stormed off she doubted it. She and his gang had killed the Professor, but without any witnesses or proof, she'd decided to vent her frustration, grief, and anger elsewhere. Maybe Aliasara would have found something by the time she got there.

After stepping on a training tatter and almost falling down the stairs, Wake snarled and ripped the tangled mess that was the hem of her dress away. Seeing Aida watching her, Wake threw the remains of the dress down and glared at Aida. "What?"

"It just registered on me, but did you just say a bit ago that you're defecting from the Rags to join us?" Aida said as they resumed their climb up the stairs.

A long sigh was her only reply for a long moment before Wake spoke again. "I hadn't quite gotten that far, but the Ancients have everything stacked so heavily in their favor, it's hard to not see them as our common enemy. Though any of my companions who survived may feel differently. We had hoped the Slave Legion might turn things in our favor, but that's definitely off the table now."

As they reached the nose-bleed section of the stadium, Aida glanced down at the wreckage she'd wrought in the arena and the swelling ranks of freed slaves gathering around Viviana's leaders. She would definitely be focusing on handling the breaking stuff she was good at from now on and delegating the putting it back together parts to people who were actually qualified to attempt it.

Looking out over Berujat's fascinating sprawl crowding the tops and dangling into the crevices between a cluster of plateaus and long, rocky fins jutting hundreds of feet over river-run canyons, she felt less confident that she'd done the right thing. Screams, shouts, and sounds of fighting echoed through the city. The sprawling area nearest the stadium hosted what had to be the infamous Flesh Markets. Many of the buildings there had caught fire or been put to the torch and the flames had spread to other tarped and tented markets nearby. Fortunately, most of the buildings beyond seemed to be made of stone, but at a glance it looked like half the ones that weren't stone were now made mostly of fire.

While some slaves tearfully reunited with family or friends, more stole anything they could get their hands on, kicked in doors all over the city, and unleashed retributive violence on potentially-innocent citizens. On the far side of the city she saw citizens fleeing across rope bridges and stone pathways carrying hastily-packed bundles or small children on their backs or slung over heavily-laden pack striders. A few Versal troops and the odd collection of Ferals escorting their Dynasts out of the city resisted the flood of freed slaves, but otherwise Berujat was now a 'free city'.

"Free of slavery and Dynastic rule and with it safety, law and order," she mumbled to herself. "I'm Hurricane Aida. An unnatural disaster that unmakes society wherever I go."

"Some places need to be unmade to be rebuilt better," Ryk said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Wake snorted. "Sentimental nonsense. There is no 'better', just whatever form of 'it works' you can keep stable long enough to keep everyone from killing each other for a little while."

Watching a gang of naked slaves armed with crude clubs and stolen spears chase a young couple carrying screaming infants on their backs as they fled in panic, Aida definitely saw her point. That didn't mean she had to like it. Rapidly amplifying her voice, she shouted at the gang. Even from her height and distance, the sound sufficed to startle, distract, and slow them for a moment before they resumed their chase. Hopefully enough to let the couple get away or hide.

She turned on Wake, channeling her anger at what went on below at the still-smug Dynast. "You were going to send the the slaves in to die against the Ancient's Legions. Cannon fodder sounds like to me."

"And you'll do differently once your new Seneschal woman there can round them back up?" Wake snapped. "Why else did you come here if not to entice them to fight for you just as we were?"

Aida shook her head vehemently. "I didn't come to draft them into suicide squads, I came to free them. If some wanted to fight, they certainly could, but I'm not going to force anyone to do anything."

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"Says the woman who just launched an unprovoked attack on our assembly where we were offering them freedom," Wake said, bitterly.

Resisting the urge to slap the woman took everything Aida had for a moment. Knowing half the anger was guilt at the people being robbed, murdered, and who knew what else out in the city because of the chaos she'd created did nothing to lessen the anger's burn.

"Unlike yours, my offer was unconditional. They're free now whether they were ready or not." Aida grimaced and the sounds of fighting intensified in the distance. Ghillie snapped and pointed a few times, drawing her attention instantly. The Feral interjected rarely enough that it had always proved important on those occasions when she did. At first she strained to figure out exactly what changed out in the city where Ghillie was pointing.

"They're all running this way now," she finally muttered. "Slaves, locals, everyone. Coming from the direction of... shit."

She wheeled on Wake. "I think those attacks on Valeers and whatever might have stirred up the hornets nest. I'm pretty sure the Legions are here."

Wake gritted her teeth. "Our spies notified us half of them suddenly formed up and marched to the nearest Thorn a few days ago so you're probably right though it's not our fault. If they're arriving now, they had to have be acting on orders organized and dispatched weeks ago."

"Well, time to talk fast, sister," Aida said, taking the steps back down as quickly as she could and still maintain a conversation. "Better prove your worth to us if you want us to take you with us. Otherwise, we're chaining you up and leaving you for Jaxe or whoever's leading the troops."

"Jaxe doesn't have the discipline to lead a Legion. And what's the matter, can ambush our Ferals and versal troops, but don't have the guts to face a real Legion?" Wake snapped, then quickly shifted gears as Aida shot her a dark look. "I can tell you much about the Ancient's capabilities, their verses, how they think."

Aida pointed to Viviana. "She and Alerestro seem to have that covered. If that's it then..."

"I can try to convince the other Rebellion Against the..." Wake sighed. "The other Rags that we've done everything we can against the Ancients and should side with you."

"If your position is weak enough now that you're willing to side with us menials and Wretches, not sure that's saying much," Aida said as they reached the last of the stairs.

Before she stepped down to the sands, she spotted Alerestro arriving at the arena gates with a few familiar faces by his side. By the way their chests heaved and the urgency with which they pressed through the throng they weren't coming with any good news.

"We burned the Annalis at Libriam - no records of who owns what... or owns whom now. We also took the Black Court and... stole the Partaker," Wake practically blurted. "We have immortality."

Aida tried to process Wake's words, but her brain was bouncing around like a ping pong ball as she tried to process everything. They began to push through the crowd of slaves Viviana had gathered and their pace slowed as half those they passed tried to reach out and touch her. She glanced back at Wake as Ryk and Ghillie moved ahead to try to clear some space. "Why does immortality help? Unless you have a small army of centenarians waiting around."

"That's... not entirely necessary," Wake said, speaking as though the words left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Explain. Quickly."

"Almost no one makes it that old. I certainly didn't. Until the Clockpriests figured out how to track time at Gears a couple centuries ago, our timekeeping was based on incomplete local records, recollection, and sometimes outright lies. Since we've had real timekeepers, we've had almost no new Dynasts so..." She cut off as shouts about the Legions' arrival began calling through the throng, changing the general attitude from one of joy to fear in a heartbeat. "The menials were told you had to be Kin and live ten decades to be Partake, but we've already tried it on... volunteers to be sure and though it killed most of them, the survivors seem to have at least most of our benefits."

The way Wake stalled out there made Aida assume the volunteers had been volunteered, but they'd almost reached Vivian's knot of leaders so she didn't press the point. "So you can make more Dynasts now. Out of anyone."

"As I said, it kills most of those who try it - the resilience granted by being Kin isn't a lie - but yes."

"Dynast Aida," Alerestro called, panting and sweating profusely as he reached them and Viviana's group at the same time. "The Vale Legions assault from the Thorns, cutting down anyone in their way. Most of our followers made it away and are heading here, but we can't stay. They must have heard about the Slave Legions somehow too as they're heading straight here."

"The slaves have apparently been planning an uprising for years," Viviana cut in, speaking quickly. "A few escaped slaves have set up camps and hideouts in the canyons; many of the slaves already head there. They can lead us and take us to a little-known Thorn so we can escape."

Aida turned to Ryk and Eth. "I have a question and want a direct answer. No nonsense now. If we stay and fight this Legion, do we win?"

Eth glared at Ryk and he flushed slightly as he spoke. "We don't know. What, Eth? She said no nonsense and Parathas reminded me I decided to be more direct with her."

"So if we stay and fight, we might be able to take them?" Aida said.

"If we stay and fight maybe we do," Eth said, stunning Aida with a direct answer for once. Until she continued sarcastically. "Or we all die a slow death rotting away in cages. We know we live if we run, though, so it's time to go."

As the ex-slave's leaders called out to their people and all the occupants of the Arena surged into action at once, Aida turned to Wake.

"Are all Imminent like that?"

"She doesn't seem that bad. Most are far more insufferable."

Aida was, for a moment, at a loss for words. "I can't imagine."

Whatever Wake said in reply was drowned away as the cacophonous clamor of combat erupted directly outside the Arena. The relatively-orderly exodus from the stadium turned into a panicked pell-mell.