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Chapter LXIV : The Soul & The Void

Premorn of Primoris, Sixteenth Day of Autumnmoon

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Bram traversed the battlements of Loulan’s western wall, when a light rain descended. His Gnostic armor rang with hollow plinks, the only sound to be heard on an otherwise dark and uneventful premorn. He woke early to review preparations, taking advantage of his solitude to play through various battle scenarios. He was familiar with Angkor’s tactics, having developed many of them himself. Unfortunately, the way things were going, his best efforts were at risk of being derailed.

Two days had passed since he warned Zhao Peng of Angkor’s attack. At the time, no one doubted. Nevertheless, push back came the next day from Koba’s fierce political apparatus. Zhao had critics within the Grand Council, who began to openly cast skepticism. It didn’t help that scouts along the Angkorian border saw no sign of an approaching army. Sorcerers stood ready to give warnings based on long range scries, but they detected nothing that could assuage the doubters, who were actively sowing seeds of distrust among Koba’s citizens.

They claimed that Bram was an undercover agent. That he peddled in lies, so he could create chaos and disrupt the nation’s recovering economy. Kobans distrusted anything related to Angkor, especially the word of a Gnostic Knight. One particularly conservative councilmember went so far as to call Zhao an accomplice, willing to steer resources to the enemy for personal gain.

Despite the political headwinds, Zhao’s support remained steadfast, and he vowed to have his men ready. Though it didn’t stop his political opponents from tirelessly trying to undermine him. Bram worried what might happen if the critics succeeded, and the city’s defenses were weakened as a result.

As he brooded over worst-case scenarios, a lone figure emerged from the darkness.

“Master Nan?”

The Kenju Master emerged in the dawn’s early light, a familiar face providing relief to Bram’s paranoia.

“Sir Morrison. I thought I might find you here, closest to Angkor’s expected approach. I trust you find the defenses to be adequate?”

Bram nodded. Zhao and Quon had done great work on short notice. Loulan had strong fortifications and could withstand a ground siege, and they bolstered it further with anti-aircraft cannons and scholars stationed throughout the city.

Bram wanted to sound optimistic. “If all goes as planned, I think we stand a good chance. Of course, we’ve yet to hear a word of Angkor’s advance. The scouts should have seen something by now.”

Quon lowered his head. “The Emperor and I met with the Conclave at midnight. They are the nation’s top scholars, and they announced the same as before. However, my impression was that they were a bit less sure of themselves.”

Bram was intrigued. “How so?”

The Kenju Master paused before answering. His face looked grave, waxy as it was with drizzle. “I spoke to some of the Conclave in private, and they admitted to some strange readings from their spells. They claim an entire segment of sky is unusually quiet. Normally, they receive some amounts of noise from clouds, birds, and other atmospheric effects, but not dead silence. It’s unusual.”

Bram’s eyes widened. “Do you think Angkor might have hidden their fleet from spells?”

Quon shook his head. “I thought the same thing, but these scholars assured me that spells of invisibility and deflection can’t scale to the size required to hide an entire air fleet. They wouldn’t have the power to do so, even if they had the strength of all of their scholars working in unison.”

Bram pounced. “But they have two sunstones! We can’t rule out that they found a new way to use them.”

Quon sighed. “Even if you’re right, our scholars wouldn’t know that, and Zhao can’t reveal anything about the sunstones, due to Transiens Veritas. Unfortunately, they must take him at his word, and I’m afraid his word only goes so far. Especially when there are members of the Council working hard to discredit him.”

Bram seethed. He detested politics. There had to be a way around the information gap. “What if we went to the Conclave directly. If we can provide a reasonable explanation that fits their readings, they would surely corroborate it. Wouldn’t they? Who among them would bet against the chance of a surprise attack?”

Quon shook his head. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. We are not seen as credible sources. To the Council, I’m just a soldier. And at best, you’re a former weapon of our enemy. We might sway a few from the Conclave, but their testimony would be tainted if Councilmembers traced it back to us. Zhao’s enemies would use it as proof of falsehood.”

“The truth … as proof of falsehood?” The politics boggled Bram’s mind. “What about King Brandt? Surely his word is credible.”

“King Brandt has already done plenty. If not for his testimony, the detractors would have already derailed the defense efforts. Even so, King Brandt is merely one voice. You must understand these Councilmembers are motivated by political opportunity. They want to get one of their own handpicked emperors into power. One, who is friendlier to their policies. They are shortsighted and not conscious of the perils of being wrong. And they are becoming ever more vocal. If Angkor doesn’t arrive soon, I fear those who have remained indecisive will begin to side with the skeptics.”

Bram buried his face in his hands. Angkor’s politics already left a bitter taste, but the ones in Koba were arguably worse. If the councilmembers had the power to roll back the city’s defenses, right when Angkor was poised to attack … Bram didn’t even want to think about the outcome. He had come too far to let his efforts unwind due to political cockfighting.

“Is there anything I can do?” He was desperate to try anything.

Quon shook his head. “Don’t get involved. The Council sees you as hostile. Even if you came with the best intentions, they are looking for reasons to portray you as the enemy. Besides, it’s not just the Council. The city’s defenders will also need rest, eventually. Men can’t remain perpetually on alert. The emperor convinced the Council to wait one more day. But if Angkor doesn’t arrive, I’m afraid he won’t be able to hold back the political pressure to shut down preparations.”

Bram nodded, but his insides were twisted into ugly knots. Koba had done remarkably well to mobilize the military on short notice. If they could just hold out a bit longer, the city would be prepared. The Conclave along with Koba’s army had an ample supply of weaponry.

With these resources, Bram felt good about his ability to protect the sunstone. Although, if the military succumbed to politics, he would need to convince Zhao to take the sunstone and flee. Despite Angkor’s ability to track its location, he could buy some time while searching for a permanent solution.

As he considered his options, another figure emerged from the misty morn.

Quon looked at the young woman longingly. “My love?”

The woman had soft black hair and ivory skin. Her features were strikingly Kitezhian, but her garb was Koban. A finely woven ruby-colored silk scarf covered her head and shoulders.

“It is I, Husband. I was told you might be here.”

Quon made introductions. “Sir Morrison, please say hello to my light and my heart: my wife, Katharina.”

Bram removed his horned Gnostic’s helm and bowed politely. The cold drizzle splashed behind his ears.

She looked him up and down, her face twisted in a scowl. “So, this is the Gnostic Knight I’ve heard so much about. The last time I ran into one of your ilk, Sir Morrison, was when one of them led a band of soldiers through my village. They killed my friends and family and left nothing but destruction in their wake.”

Bram was taken aback. With all that had happened, he almost felt like he could leave his shameful past behind. But he should have known that he would run into survivors of the Knighthood’s vicious acts, sooner or later. He just wished it hadn’t been the spouse of one of the few decent men willing to stand in his defense. He wondered if Quon’s faith in him would be shaken.

He tried to respond with repentance and humility. “I know my words won’t be worth more than cold comfort, but I am sorry for your loss. They were horrific times … even so, it is not an excuse for the Knights’ brutality. All I can offer is my heartfelt promise to make amends, and that I will defend Koba with my life.”

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Katharina glared at him as he spoke, but by the end her features softened. Her lips tightened, and she raised a single eyebrow, as if contemplating his response.

“I can tell that you are different,” she finally responded in a warmer tone. “I would be wrong to judge a man based on the actions of his kin. As long as you keep true to your word, Koba owes you thanks. And, you shall have mine as well.”

Seeing Katharina reconsider her hatred lessened the shame, but the guilt still remained. He bowed, unsure what else to say.

“Thank you, my Lady.”

Meanwhile, Quon beamed with pride. He excused himself to speak with his wife in private.

Bram let them go and continued his survey along the battlements. The rain stopped, and the first rays of sunlight started to light the sky. Even birds chirped in the distance. It felt like the calm before the storm. He almost lost himself in the moment, when he heard the return of footsteps. Thinking Quon had more to say, he turned ready to face the Kenju Master. Instead, his eyes landed on Rosa.

She wore a traditional, long-sleeved Koban sorceress dress made of white and blue silk. It was a pleasant surprise and quite an upgrade from the oversized Kitezhian furs she had received from Sven and Marta.

“You look beautiful. The Conclave has been kind.”

She smirked and gave him a twirl to show off her feminine physique. “Indeed, they have.”

He longed to take her in his arms, but the timing didn’t feel right. The anticipation of Angkor’s attack, the fear of being unprepared, and the shame of being a Gnostic in a city full of victims all left him with a jumble of emotions.

Rosa’s expression faded in the moments of silence. “Listen, Bram, I know these last few days couldn’t have been easy for you.”

It felt like she read his mind, but he didn’t want to be coddled. He tried to brush it off. “I’m fine. We just need to fend off Angkor’s attack, and then we can think about going on the offensive.”

She scoffed. “You’re not fine. You marched through the Burning Pits to get here, fought demonspawn … twice! … witnessed incredible carnage in Ur, and lost a best friend in the process. Also, I feel responsible for giving you false hope about your father. With Remiel being a Great Sage, you must feel disappointed that your parents are back to being a complete mystery.”

It seemed like Rosa’s concerns were all over the place.

“Where’s all this coming from?”

She huffed. “I’m just worried about you. You keep on putting on this strong veneer, but I have to wonder how you feel behind the Gnostic mask. You’re still human, Bram. You don’t need to pretend that you’re above the pain.”

He chuckled. She was being over-dramatic. “Yeah, Rosie, it hasn’t been easy. But we survived. And I still have you … and Yuri! Besides, the threat isn’t over. I can’t indulge in self-pity. Or pity from anyone else, for that matter. The only way we’re going to confront the Ahrimen is by looking forward, keeping our spirits high, and making sure we’re prepared to fight when the time comes.”

With his Gnostic helm in one hand, he stepped close and held her hand with his other. “Speaking of which, what are you doing up so early? Don’t tell me you stayed up all night researching.”

Rosa tried to hide a creeping smile, but she wasn’t very successful. “You know me … I can’t sleep when I’m so close to discovering something.”

Bram rarely felt like he was in a position to chastise Rosa, but she ought to know better. “You need to be fully rested and have your wits about you in case Angkor attacks. I was just speaking with Quon, and it’s clear the Conclave is getting mixed signals when they try to detect Angkor’s advance. They could be right outside the city, for all we know, hidden with the Ahriman’s magic.”

Rosa nodded. “I know. I heard from Zhao before I came. That’s how I knew where to find you.” She paused before adding, “I came for another reason, you know. It’s about something I found out earlier this morn.”

Bram was interested. He knew the Conclave provided Rosa with access to their library. It wasn’t as large as the Archives, but he could imagine her reading through dozens of tomes in one night.

“You have my attention. What did you find?”

She blinked a few times, as she usually did, in search of the right words. “I recalled this lesson, back when I attended sorcery school, about an old branch of study called epistemology. Basically, it’s a combination of philosophy, rationalism, and mathematics to study the extent of magical knowledge.”

Bram couldn’t imagine a dryer topic. He hoped she didn’t see him roll his eyes. “Learn anything interesting?”

Rosa surely must have noticed. She cracked a smile. “I was trying to track down the origin of the word ‘interdicta’, which is the term we keep hearing in reference to Virgil’s magic.”

Bram’s thoughts came into focus. “Oh. Right.”

Rosa continued. “I turned to epistemology, because it correctly predicted the existence of gold manna, hundreds of years ago. Remember, the Ancient Gaians were supposed to have all perished, and no one suspected they could use this form of magic. I wouldn’t have, either, except I saw Yuri use it, firsthand. So did King Brandt’s other sorcerers.”

Bram thought he understood the point Rosa wanted to make. “Okay, so these, uh ….”

“Epistemologists,” she offered.

“Right. These epistemologists have a good track record for predicting new kinds of magic. So, you figured they might also have stumbled upon interdicta?”

Rosa scrunched her nose. “Not exactly. They had a theory, but they never made it very far. Nevertheless, if I’m to explain it, I need to first explain magiphysiology, which is the study of how manna draws from different aspects of the human anatomy.”

Bram braced himself for another dry topic.

Of course, Rosa leaned right into it. “As you know, wizards project their spells outward, while sorcerers get their inspiration from within. Anatomically, we say that red manna draws from the body’s raw strength, or corpus. Meanwhile, blue manna draws from the mind, our intellect, the menis.”

Bram considered Rosa’s words. “Even a layman like me knows that much.”

Rosa smiled. “Then what’s left? Of the human anatomy, I mean.”

He crossed his arms and thought about it. “What about the heart? Doesn’t that count?”

She looked pleased. “That’s precisely what the epistemologists thought when they theorized about gold manna. They knew that something was missing from the existing model. Our bodies don’t just run on logic alone. We make choices based on emotion, and our minds and bodies act accordingly. They called it the core, and when they solved for this missing variable using their advanced mathematics, the equations backed it up.”

Bram nodded. “Got it. So where does interdicta come in?”

Rosa gave him one of those looks, like he was being impatient. But she finally gave in. “It turns out the mathematical framework predicted more than just three types of manna. They actually produced two additional solutions, each of which predicted a fourth type.”

Bram was stumped. “Would that imply some hidden part of the anatomy?”

She nodded. “Actually, yes. Although controversial, some people believe in the idea of a ‘soul’. The epistemologists called it anima, and the equations predicted such manna would be a union of all three colors. Of course, it wouldn’t make much sense. Manna color is mutually exclusive. Even if you were to extract it from the blood, the moment red manna touches blue, it explodes violently.”

Bram instantly recalled an exception. “What about Matthias, the Ambisanguinous? I wish you could have met him, Rosa. His magic kept you alive until we found the cure from Prometheus. If there was one thing he reminded us constantly, it’s that he had both types of manna in his blood.”

She considered it. “Master Deleuze is indeed unique, and I imagine his anatomy must be something of a scientific curiosity. But, just because both manna types coexist in his bloodstream, doesn’t mean he’s able to use them at the same time. It would have to be just one or the other. Using them both would be extremely dangerous. So, I think the theories are consistent. A union of colors is not allowed, according to the laws of magic.”

Bram always found the theoretical aspects of magic to be over his head, but something Rosa said stuck with him. “You said there was a second solution to the equations. Would that imply a colorless manna? Is that allowed, according to the ‘laws of magic’?”

Rosa looked impressed. “Very perceptive, Bram. I think you would have made an excellent scholar.” She grinned. “Like you said, the other solution predicted the absence of color, which they called the Void, or nihil. Of course, the epistemologists dismissed it, since in their minds, the absence of manna merely meant that a person was a layman. The idea of a layman casting magic is disallowed by the laws of magic. Thus, any fourth kind of manna should not exist. It is ‘interdicta’. In other words, forbidden.”

Bram tried to make sense of it all. “But, the epistemologists must have been wrong. Virgil somehow discovered this fourth type of colorless manna. Wouldn’t it explain why scholars can’t detect his magic.”

Rosa beamed. “Exactly!” She pointed with her index finger for emphasis. “That’s why I came all this way to share this knowledge. I believe if we discover the source of his colorless manna, we might be able to rob him of its power.”

Bram remembered. “His cloak! He reached inside when he cast that spell that took over my body.”

“Yes. I noticed it, too. He must have some kind of totem with colorless manna stored inside.”

Bram wondered about that. “Just how much manna can a totem store, anyway? Don’t they have limits?”

“Well, of course. But, given enough time, powerful scholars can store vast amounts of manna for later use.”

Bram wasn’t so sure. “I thought that totems had to match what a person already has in their blood. Doesn’t that imply that Virgil might produce his own colorless manna?”

Rosa opened her mouth and then shut it. She wasn’t usually so easily stumped. “I … don’t know, since no one has ever studied colorless manna before. Its laws are unknown. Besides, I observed that Virgil didn’t use interdicta until after he reached into his cloak. Otherwise, he uses red manna, just like any other wizard.”

Bram ventured another guess. “What if he has two types of manna?”

Rosa shrugged. “We wouldn’t know, since colorless manna is undetectable.”

Bram chuckled. “Okay, so we’re back at the beginning, knowing almost nothing.”

“Not so fast.” She stepped in front and looked at him crossly. “This is still an important, new discovery, Abraham Morrison.”

Now she was angry. She only used his full name when she got upset. He took her by the waist and pulled her close. “Now, now. I don’t mean to diminish the hours of hard work you put into finding this knowledge. I’m sure it’ll be helpful.”

She gave him a pouting look. “You better believe it.”

He held her tight. Feeling her warmth raised his spirits, and he never wanted to let go. “Rosie … maybe you were right. Before. Maybe this whole journey has been too taxing on us. I want it to end, more than anything. And I want you at arm’s length. You and Yuri are the only ones I need.”

He caught a lone tear slide down her cheek. He couldn’t hold back any longer. He went in for the kiss, and the moment he touched her lips, he swore he felt magic.

But there was fear, too. Fear of losing the ones he cared about the most. He knew the time would come when Angkor would arrive with an air fleet of incredible destructive capability. They had many advantages: control of the air, better magic, superior weaponry, and larger numbers. Bram had prepared the Koban people as well as he could, but he didn’t know if it was enough.

At that moment, the battle horn sounded. Angkor, the enemy, was sighted.