Lord Scieth, arise!
Deep darkness fell away slowly for Lord Scieth. It had been a long time since he’d inhabited his own body. For months, he waited, embedded deep within the boy’s soul. Seeing everything through Sasha’s eyes but unable to control his mind had been a practice in patience for him.
A few times, there were close calls. During their encounter with the cannibals, the blight he had planted deep in Henry’s mind very nearly surfaced. And again, in the alleyway with the priest. He’d tried to warn the Prophetess but, until her command reached him, he sat dormant, helpless.
Thankfully, a few suggestions to Sasha’s subconscious had assured his hiding place would not be revealed. Nevertheless, it felt great to be out of the young man’s head and back within his true self.
You’ve slumbered long Scieth. Rise and breathe free air again.
The voice of his Prophetess, so near, so sweet, was refreshing in Lord Scieth’s mind. He rose from his chamber. The small capsule floated a meter above the ground bobbing up and down as he slipped off onto unfamiliar footing. As his feet met the cold stone dais, sensations of dull pain shot up his legs. He’d been asleep so long, the callouses on his heels had fallen away and left skin as sensitive as a baby’s.
Stepping gingerly, he navigated the small sleeping chamber until he reached the door at the far end. The giant metal contraption was less “door” and more device. Endless gears and cylinders crowded the entire surface with their unusual shapes and designs.
At the left side of the door, four locks were firmly planted in place. It was a purpose designed vault door, specifically meant to be opened from the inside only. Pressing his hand to the cool metal, he muttered a short incantation and ended it with a small surge of awakened fire that snaked along his forearm, exiting at his fingertips.
The giant mechanical gears came to life. They turned, slowly at first, defiant after so many months at rest. As the door swung outward, a cloud of dust and dirt fell from somewhere above, eliciting an involuntary cough.
Ahead, directly outside was his Prophetess, beautiful as ever. She had opted for a shorter variant of her usual flowing dress. The strange fabric displayed an exotic pattern of blue hues locked into endless flowing shapes. At the bottom of the dress, the colors brightened to snowy white.
As she stepped forward to greet him, her dress began to change colors. With each step, the white pattern on the bottom would shift but, only on the areas that contacted the ground. It gave him the distinct impression that she was walking through and invisible layer of snow.
Standing barefoot on the cold stone, watching her, he shivered. “My Prophetess,” he began, “You are more beautiful each time I see you. It’s good to be home again.” The Prophetess was in unusually good spirits as she returned his greeting with a smile.
“Walk with me, Lord Scieth,” she instructed. It wasn’t a request; it was a command. Not requiring a reply, she started across the long throne room chamber. Doing his best not to show the pain in his tender feet, he tiptoed to catch up.
The chamber was exactly as he remembered it. The black crystal dome sparkled brilliantly with the reflection of the two crescent water pools. Home again! He thought to himself fondly. The Prophetess turned and smiled as they walked. He realized she had read his thoughts.
“Sorry, my queen. Sometimes, I forget, you can hear my inner musings in here,” he added, apologetically. Smiling, she replied, “I take no offense. Sending you out on a such a long dangerous mission was a difficult choice. I imagine, returning here must be quite a relief.”
He nodded as she continued, “It would appear we have a little problem though. Vachir has discovered our duplicity. He no doubt will make haste the the capital of the Federation and attempt to warn them of the coming invasion.” Scieth sighed, “yes. I had considered that as well.”
The pair stopped at one of the crescent pools. The Prophetess bent down and swirled one finger through the water. A growing wave of ice drifted lazily outward from her touch as she asked, “And what do you propose we do about that?”
Lord Scieth paused for a moment, considering his answer carefully before replying, “We have very few priests assigned to each FCF military facility. Perhaps fifty per division. It’s not enough to do any major damage but, we could send a telepathic command out to all our embedded units. Our priests would no doubt cause a considerable amount of damage before they met their end.”
Lord Scieth shrugged, adding, “It would mean the loss of our eyes and ears in the Federation but, we could push the invasion up by a few weeks. The Federation would still be reeling from an attack within and, with the help of the Alliance forces, we could crush them far ahead of schedule.”
Ahead of them, the pool had completely frozen solid. Standing up, the Prophetess began to cross the ice. Each step sent silent auroras of white outward. Barefoot, Lord Scieth was hesitant to follow but, he was quite unwilling to risk her good mood.
Clenching his jaw, he strode gingerly across the ice to catch up. Each step was more painful than the last. He could only hope the ice would numb his feet before the pain crippled him. As they crossed, the Prophetess spoke, “A sound strategy, Lord Scieth but, I have a better idea. Pull all our priests out of Federation territory.”
Despite the biting cold on his feet, Lord Scieth stopped. With a puzzled expression he asked, “My Queen, I...that is to say why…” She interrupted him with a laugh, “Why would I do something so foolish?” Scieth shook his head, “I would never accuse Your Highness of being-”
The Prophetess laughed again. Dismissing his attempt at humility, she replied, veiled poison in her voice, “Of course you wouldn’t. It would be the last such accusation you ever made.” Scieth felt it best to remain silent.
Finally, they made their way to the other side of the frozen pool. Scieth was silently relieved for it. Turning to him, she added, “Let Vachir warn his government. In fact, we will begin pulling our forces out now. By the time he arrives, most of our acolytes and priests will be safe in the Holy Land.”
He could tell, there was more and waited for her to continue. Turning to him, her eyes were dark with evil intent as she predicted, “The attack will proceed on schedule but...let the Alliance lead the charge. Two weeks to prepare for an invasion should give the Federation plenty of time.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Her laugh echoed the halls and she concluded, “With each loss, the Alliance will become more and more dependant on our forces. It’s in our best interests to ensure their enemy is well prepared. By the time this war is over, few will remain to offer us any semblance of resistance. I don’t want a repeat of the last crusade.”
Scieth smiled as her words ushered him to the same conclusion, “You possess incredible foresight my Prophetess. The word will go out immediately.” Switching subjects he asked, “And what of your escaped breeder and the prime of earth?” To him, they were beneath even names.
Finally, the reached the far wall. On it, hundreds of images, etched in pure black crystal, chronicled the history of the world. The story reached back nearly ten thousand years, to The Fall. The pair stopped in front of one image in particular.
Etched carefully into the crystal were the symbols for water, earth, fire, and air. Between and beneath the symbols for each element, hybridized symbols appeared. Beneath those, the symbols drilled down into two, more complicated patterns, until finally, a single symbol emerged. It was the same symbol as the Holy Land’s flag. The same design as the pools in the attunement chamber that they were standing in.
The Prophetess turned to stare at her reflection in the rapidly melting pool. She added, “I suppose it’s a good thing that Jim saved her. I could hardly contain that annoying clockwork man’s emotions. He has an impressive stockpile of pent up rage, even without my influence. I’m not entirely sure I could have stopped him before he crushed her skull.”
Pointing to the ornate drawings, she spoke, “For ten thousand years, there has been a prophesy. Finally, the time has come to fulfill that prophesy. Those two are the last pieces of the puzzle. I wonder if she has any idea who this ‘Jim’ really is.”
Lord Scieth furrowed his brows. Confused, he asked, “The prime of earth? Please, my queen, enlighten me.” Shaking her head, she replied, “No...I think, this one, I will let you discover for yourself.”
Turning back to the drawing, she added, “After all, I wouldn’t be a very good mother if I didn’t challenge your intellect now and then, son.” Scieth nodded, “I’m always up for a good challenge, mother.”
***
The capital city of Hurria was a glistening beacon of alabaster beauty sitting on the shore of an even more vibrant inland sea. Across the water, to the west, the golden hills of Mensora stretched north and south, forming the border between the Holy Land and the Federation.
To the north, the Green River Delta fed life giving water and fresh soil to the farms that crowded its floodplains beyond the horizon to Nalhaya. To the south, the Jindagee marsh was dotted with tiny trails of smoke from thousands of farm homes. In the land of Ruin, no drop of water was wasted. Living in a marsh was considered a blessing, given the alternative.
Beneath their stolen scout ship, now displaying a freshly painted new name of “The Herald”, the desert began to give way to grass and soon, city walls. From nearly five thousand meters, it was a breathtaking sight.
“Do you think the Federation would be mad if I puked all over their walls from this high up?” Jim was pulled from the spectacle below by Alia’s comment. Turning to see her, he could see, she was green with nausea. While he’d found that The Herald was more like his old landship and thus, more comfortable, the Captain was in misery.
Being much smaller and faster, The Herald shook and vibrated with every gust of wind. Alia and a number of other crewmen had found it difficult for their stomachs to adjust to the rapid movements during their three day journey southward. More than a few of them stumbled about the deck in uncomfortable silence.
“You know,” Jim prodded, “Peanut butter tastes the same coming up. Perhaps you should change your breakfast routine?” Alia met his smile with a grimace. She was not amused. Leaving over the side of the ship, she retched.
Taking a moment to collect herself, she asked, “How’s our friend? Any change?” Jim shook his head, “No. Sasha is still the same. It doesn’t make sense. Henry didn’t knock him upside the head all that hard.” He grumbled, letting his frustration vent.
With the nausea behind her, at least for the moment, Alia squeezed Jim. For a second, he forgot his frustrations and turned to face her. Brushing the hair from her scarred cheek, he asked her...probably for the hundredth time, “Please Alia, let me heal him. His injuries are mental, not physical. Chances are, I won’t even suffer inj-”
Alia raised a hand to his mouth, “No, my love. The boy will heal naturally. I’m not risking your well being for something nature will gradually solve.” She leaned in to kiss him but Jim stopped her a few inches short.
“Yeah, I love you but, this,” he said, pointing at her lips, “isn’t going to happen. You just puked.” Alia pushed him away and landed a painful punch in his arm. Laughing, she scolded him, “You are such an ass!” Jim shrugged and, they both laughed, happy for the momentary distraction.
From behind him, Jim heard the topdeck planks creak as General Vachir and Lieutenant Colonel Sandra Mason made their way over. As they approached, they both saluted Captain Rychist. Alia shook her head and replied, “For the last time, you two don’t have to salute me. I’m not part of FedCom and, I’m sure not your captain.”
Sandra sighed, “And for the last time, it’s customary to salute the captain. Until we are off this ship, you’re in command.” She paused before adding, “Technically speaking.” Alia shrugged, “Very well then, report, Lieutenant Colonel.” She added a mock military salute, complete with way too much flair.
Sandra glanced at Vachir who nodded for her to proceed. She began, “We are coming up on Hurria, the capital city and seat of the Federation’s governing body. Once we dock, the General and myself will make our way to Parliament where we will call an emergency assembly.”
Vachir added, “Once we land, our agreement is complete. You are welcome to leave with your ship and, I will ensure your name is cleared. In the territory of the Federation at least, you’ll be free to come and go. As the Prophetess has decided to get in bed with our enemies to the north, I see no reason for the Federation to consider you anything but an ally.”
Alia crossed her arms and asked, “And what do you think will happen when you reveal everything you’ve learned? No offense but, your Parliament isn’t really known for their unity of purpose. I’ve often wondered how the Federation made it this far with a bunch of bickering old men and women at the helm.”
Vachir sighed, “Yes. Our democracy is far from perfect but, you’d be surprised at how quickly people forget their petty differences when faced with certain destruction. I trust them to arrive at the right decision.” He didn’t look entirely convinced himself.
Below them, the city of Hurria was growing nearer. Jim could make out small figures marching around its twenty meter high white walls. Enormous turngun emplacements dotted the wall at every turn. They were much larger than the manned variant, requiring ether cubes and a team to operate. Their technological appearance looked out of place upon the ancient stone walls.
Sounds of daily life below begin to mix with the venting steam above. Excusing themselves, Vachir and Sandra Mason retired belowdecks to prepare their men for disembarkation. Jim continued to watch the growing city scene below them. The commotion was already setting him on edge. Alia was unusually quiet next to him. Turning to her, he asked, “So, what do we do now?
Staring at horizon, she replied, “We fight, Jim.”
He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you sure about that? We could head back after disembarking Vachir and his men. The liberator should be nearly repaired by the time we get there. We could retire on the money this ship would fetch in Freeport.”
Alia shook her head, “No. It’s not about money anymore. It’s about right and wrong.” She turned to Jim and leaned on the railing, adding, “I’ve been a...well, let’s just call it what it is. I’ve been a pirate much of my adult life. It’s brought me plenty of joy...and heartache.” Pain flashed over her face.
Taking a breath, she continued, “But, it’s time for a change, Jim. It’s time for us to be part of something bigger. This time, the Prophetess won’t stop until the whole of Ruin is hers. We can’t avoid our destiny.”
Jim shrugged, “I suppose you’re right. I was half hoping to go visit the Ll’tal again. I mean...cat people? What the hell is that? I’m sure Henry and Emat would have a lot to talk about. He loves his history after all.”
Alia laughed, “Yeah, he does. For now though, we stay and fight. When this is over, I promise, we will visit them again. I rather liked that strange old man too, you know.”
The city was only a few hundred meters below now. A squad of soldiers had assembled below to tie off the airship to its docking berths and disembark the crew. Golden domes and reddish squared housetops mixed below them to form endless rows of buildings. To Jim, the whole city looked as crowded and unwelcoming as Rock Bottom.
His attention was momentarily drawn away by the sight of the city’s defenses. On the wall nearest to them, a massive cannon, at least thirty meters long, swiveled on its enormous steel base. Yellow light glowed outwards from breaks in the outer structure. Around it, a crew of five performed maintenance tasks and tests. The gun slowly swept the northwest horizon, in search of hidden threats.
Hurria [http://i.imgur.com/TelOBjO.jpg]
Alia too was drawn by the tremendous weapon, of which there were dozens scattered around the mighty city walls. “Incredible,” she commented, adding, “If only we had one of those on the liberator, we could...nah. Actually, it would fall out of the sky like a stone. I take that back.” Jim was happy to see her in good spirits. Although he’d been spared of the nausea many of her crew were suffering from, he was eager to be on the ground again, even if it meant being around so many people.
Switching back into captain mode, Alia barked to the deckhand, “Assemble the crew and inform General Vachir that Captain Rychist and her crew of awakened aren’t going anywhere. This time we stay. This time, we fight.”