One had been treading the earth for days across a giant field. Occasionally, she’d be accompanied by a family of trees. Her journey dragged her to a dusty farm.

No farmers were tending the fields there. But there were figures in familiar gray masks hanging around the buildings. Her arrival riled up those Dowsers camping outside a barn. Men and women stood tall for the short One, in ignorant respect. Unfazed, she opened the heavy oak barn doors effortlessly.

The gathering had been unheard of. All ten Drowned were in one place, which hasn’t happened in two hundred years. The maskless, orange-haired woman approached a large, muscular man with a hammer on his back.

“One. You made a mess in Sinsila again,” Five boomed with welcoming arms open. “You worry me. So careless. You could have been hurt.”

One’s partially burnt face tilted upward at his boar-engraved mask. “I’m never careless,” she replied emptily.

This was a grand meeting organized by Zero. Not only were the Ten Drowned present, but highly skilled and influential Dowsers from every city and town. Nearly two hundred and fifty people attended the mysterious gathering of those against the Bell.

The current Three, more bookworm than woman, acknowledged One’s arrival to Six. “She looks a bit tired. Did she walk here? How far? She’s filthy.”

Six’s heart was built by wilderness. He explained, “She came a long ways on foot. Based on the mess stuck to her feet. Bet she started at Sansila. I did spot her five miles down when I got bored of this stuffy barn.” He tapped his augmented marksman rifle. He grunted when Three slapped his stomach with her metal book. “What?”

“Don’t be creepy, little bro,” she scoffed.

Two and Seven were off in a corner by themselves. Four, a young athletic man, was arm wrestling a line of beefy Dowsers. Eight was suffering an inescapable lecture from Ten. Nine played cards with several other Dowsers.

The doors opened again, and shadowed by sunlight was a man in a black suit and blank gray mask. He nursed his back while he strolled to the center of the room. The Drowned gave him full attention and performed respectful gestures. The unknowing Dowsers shared confusion.

“Could you bring out the stage?” Zero requested. Five wheeled out a wooden stage, and Three hooked up a microphone that was wired across Ruth. “Thank you.”

“When did you plan that?” Six asked his sister.

“My number is Zero, and I am the true leader of the Dowsers. I felt that hiding my identity from all but the current and former Drowned is a tradition that needed to end. Anger toward such deceit should be aimed wholly at me.”

Everyone listened closely to his words, all still without whispers.

“You’ve just become aware of my existence, but I ask you to trust me for the extinguishing of the Burning Bell. Years of planning, sacrifices, and technological advances have tipped the scale. The Chimes' sheer arrogance assisted our endeavor. For hundreds of years, we had no way to combat the immortals. Then, Fallite was discovered. Now they’re vulnerable.” Zero cleared his dry throat.

Half of the room examined and appreciated their Fallite weaponry. Seven dragged her soft fingers across the whip fitted around her waist. Four smiled at his ironically named brass knuckles.

“The previous Zero, Nigel Crowdon, had inventions that were beyond extraordinary. And combined with Fallite, he made weapons that rivaled magic.” Zero presented the woman with orange hair. “One’s scientific study of Fallite has pushed the boundary further. With their combined knowledge, Nigel developed a Fallite bomb. Unfortunately, he was found, cornered, and desperate and used the only prototype bomb. It was made only to expel Fallite radiation, but it misfired, and Crowdon was lost. After a nightmare of going through his notes, we have replicated his work. The Fallite bomb is born again.” An arm flew into the air, and Zero said, “Eight, you don’t have to raise your hand.”

The thin, pale, charcoal-haired woman lowered her arm. “So, when this thing blows, every bit of brass in the radius will turn to rust?” she asked in a nasal tone.

“Yes,” One answered dryly. “Fallite radiation does not affect organic life, so humans and animals won’t be harmed.”

“Killer,” Eight smirked.

“It’s not perfect yet,” a Dowser engineer stated. “It's still got years of work before we can mass produce it.”

“With these bombs, we can bring down the Burning Bell, the wall of fog, and the Chimes all at once. Unfortunately, I cannot give you more details until the bombs are finished. I don’t produce empty promises.” Zero slicked his blonde hair with one hand.

“If I may join your vibes.” Nine fixed the many bracelets on her arm. “The future is irrelevant if we do not act on the present.” She twirled an altered chakram blade on her fingertip. “I would suggest we sway the public to the bright side by exposing churches and publicly retaliating against Chimes who murder, torture, and commit other vile acts in the name of God.”

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“Gathering more Fallite is necessary,” Ten added. “We need a network of people, groups of seven to thirteen people scouring Ruth, a proper recruitment system, weapon distri….”

While the meeting continued, Two and Seven were offside. “None of this ends with all of us walking into the sunset,” Seven realized coldly. “You and I….”

“You’re bumming me out. Quit it,” Two demanded. “We are all here because we lost something. Your father. My brother, mother, and surrogate niece. We know how it would end.”

Tricia grabbed Bernard’s hand. “We’ll make the most of it until then. A fun time.”

***

The Maiden smiled softly as the bell crashed beside her through the atrium. Her blonde hair whipped from the gale. After an intense wave of heat from the orange brass, the bell cooled and ascended to the sky.

Maiden Sympha raised her arms. “The Burning Bell has blessed this child, saved her with its pure flames, and took her to heaven. Praise be the Bell.”

“Praise be the Bell,” those in the church repeated.

After a few more words of hopefulness and love, the mass was over, and the saving was finished. The patrons of the Church of the Burning Bell left. The family members of the one who was saved were eternally grateful and stayed behind a bit longer than the others to speak with the Maiden.

“My mother suffered for so long,” a middle-aged man said. “Thank you, Maiden, for saving her. Bless you, forever.”

Sympha, who wore a deep-blue dress, kneeled to the man’s level. “Thanking me is unnecessary. I’m simply the Bell Bearer of O'Landra. God,” she rose her body and hand skyward, "saved your mother."

Maiden Sympha read to a group of orphans at the church, her gold eyes darting around the text, her black lips smoothly moving with the words. The book was about a hunter who pursued a boar to feed his hungry family. But many pitfalls and problems end with the boar and hunter becoming friends. After the story, the starry-eyed children deployed questions.

“Ms. Maiden. Is there anything beyond the fog?”

“I’m afraid not,” Sympha answered softly. “That scary fog consumed the earth long ago. But thanks to the Burning Bell, you were all spared.”

“What was out there before the fog?”

“There was a civilization across the planet, a complex and diverse one. They had many discoveries and inventions but also conflicts.”

“Why didn’t the Bell save them?”

“I do not know. There are things that God keeps even from me. Perhaps, unlike the people of Ruth, they were not worth saving. He loves every human in this country and wishes you all could join him in Heaven. Sadly, only a chosen few can experience that privilege. But those that are saved are taken to eternal happiness without delay.”

“Ooooo,” the children moaned, amazed.

“Go on and eat now,” Sympha said with a snap of the book. “Have your fill before you head to the zoo. It’ll be fun, I imagine.”

“Yaaaaah.”

The children surrounded a table supplied with food by Chimes dressed as waiters and waitresses. Thanks to the church, the orphanages across Ruth were sometimes beyond the quality of average households.

Sympha strolled into the back of the church, walked a corridor, went down a hatch, and entered a cellar. It was filled with tomes, scrolls, and bottles. She drew a bottle from a cabinet and blew it off. When she turned around, Hasmed popped into her presence. Sympha didn’t bother to feign surprise.

“What do you need?” she asked with a hum, reading the yellowed label on the bottle of black wine.

“Do you remember what day it is?” he probed in his dreary voice.

Sympha shook the bottle before Hasmed. “Does this answer your question? Watch that, you’ll trip. You’ve been talking with Zaqiel a lot lately. Are you kids having a fling?”

“You’re spying on me?”

“No. Just an intuition.”

“We’re not having a fling, as hard as she tries. She’s draining me away.” Walking beside Sympha, he asked, “What time are we going?”

“Hmmm. Eight or nine. It’s not like it matters too much. It’s just a divine step away for us.”

“Do you ever feel guilty lying to them all? You’re passionate about their well-being but can’t admit the truth. Far as I know, you’ve only told one man that the world is still alive. I just find it depressing.”

Maiden Sympha halted; her eyes snapped shut, and yellow glowing sigils covered her body. Hasmed sighed and leaned against the wall until Sympha’s mind returned to her body. She came back disappointed. This was a common emotion Sympha acquired after talking to her father, in Hasmed’s experience.

“Seven thousand names have been sent across Ruth for saving. One hundred in O’Landra this week. Usual messages to the people. Dowsers’ info….” She sighed, exhausted.

“Why do you let him use you? You could take his place—"

“Don’t ever say that!” Sympha said, her sweet face scrunched with rage. Then she calmed down. “Don’t say that,” she said softly.

“I’ll be going then,” the chain-faced Chime stated with a bit of panic. He backed up a few steps and dissolved away.

I can’t reveal the secret to anyone. The world still lives, but there is nothing but disease, hatred, sins, and war. We seal them off from it all so everyone can live happy lives. I know what’s right, even if some wouldn’t agree, for I have lived a happy human life.

***

When Sympha first came to be, she despised humans and thought them a waste of time. She called them “beings of impurity” and not worth saving. Being the first, Sympha differed from other Chimes as she had more free will. While the other Chimes were created to love humans, Sympha was disobedient and bitter for two hundred years. Humans and Chimes feared the direct word of God. Then, one day, fed up with it all, Sympha vanished. She departed for a remote part of Ruth, insensible and untraceable even to the Burning Bell. In her absence, Kindler Gretgle took her place.

To hide herself, Sympha had to seal away her divine powers and body. With sick irony, Sympha turned herself into a form that nobody would suspect: a human. Her height went from nearly seven feet tall to five foot seven. Her ivory skin turned peach. She could age now and was roughly mortal. Only Sympha could manage such a transformation.

Sympha traveled endlessly through mountains, wetlands, plains, and forests. One day, she ran into an unfortunate position in a forest. An absolute downpour bombarded her ceaselessly. She was cold, wet, and exhausted. She found a small clearing. There was a cabin with dark windows next to a river. Reluctantly, she went for the immediate shelter.