CHAPTER 19 SOMEDAY

The stone rumbled below them, ancient timber was rendered to dust. The room shifted.

“Hold on!” The Captain shouted.

The floor began to give way as the walls crumbled below them. In a flash within a second, Sylo Teht was already moving. With a great swing of one of his metal hands, his fist collided with the stone below the window. It broke into small pieces, and the roof above them began to quiver. He met Artifae's eyes, a deep sorrow within them. Artifae meant to move his body forwards, towards the new escape hatch, but the floor began to dip. He watched as the Mountain-Eve, quick as a hawk, scooped up Taisha in his silver arms. She was thrown into his chest, one hand cradling his body, the other gripping her staff tightly. The two disappeared through the hole towards the rapidly approaching earth.

“Grab on!” The First-mate shouted.

With wiry hands, Ban grabbed Artifae and the Captain by the scruffs of their shirts. They twisted their body, and from under their leather vest, two inky-black wings emerged, as if from a skeletal bat. The three ran, powered purely by instinct, as the roof began to turn to pebbles, raining hard hell upon their bodies. They ducked their heads into daylight, the black ground rushing to meet them. Ban's thin arms strained, they called out in pain as they left the rapidly depleting floor and into mid-air. The wind rushed to meet them, the smell of burning replaced by dust sulphur. Artifae's hat was thrown away by the hands of the breeze, and Ban's wings glided without elegance.

The ground came to meet them quickly, Artifae felt the fingers in his shirt loosen, before letting go, and he dropped. His lungs and heart bounced in his chest, a sickly sensation of floating before the jagged rocks caught him. He landed with his legs first, immediately feeling the searing burning as his right leg was lacerated by the hamstring. He rolled, the blade like rocks cutting through his trousers and new coat, tumbling under a cloud of dust. He called out, until finally stopping under of veil of shattered stone. He was sodden with blood, his face was covered in black particles.

I'm alive? I must be, being dead wouldn't hurt this much..

Before him, the tower finally collapse under the screech of burst stone. A great smog of debris overtook them, sending flailing stones against his battered arms. The ground rumbled as the final parts of the walls fell, before a silence perforated by his ringing ears. Where the tall, thin tower stood before, was now only pile of splintered wood and crumbled stone. He moaned with pain as he tried to set his palms on the sharp rock, struggling to get himself up. His hands, wrists, arms and legs were lacerated. There was a cut on his forehead that bled profusely, and his ribs ached every-time he breathed.

He looked around, fragments of stone hanging in his hair. He saw some movement as someone got up, ten feet away. It was Ban, on their knees, stretching their back. They too had been cut on the arms, a large gash through their vest, but otherwise seemed unharmed. They waved at Artifae, who waved back. He pushed himself to his feet, walking slowly on the cruel, jagged rocks, when he saw something orange in between them. It was a piece of fabric, almost like a scarf, coated in dirt and rock. He picked it up with bloody fingers, feeling the fine linen between them. It led to where Ban was, and under him, was the Captain, his turban completely unfurled. His hair was a dark brown, with hints of auburn. It was scraped backwards, revealing an uneven hairline. It had been tied up into an extremely neat bun, adorned with a piece of fabric, coated with beads.

“You alright, Sajaestan?” Ban asked, panting.

Artifae only nodded, the pain in his leg burning brighter. His leg buckled, and he felt his ankle become damp under his boot. He felt the wet flesh, his hand coming back crimson.

“You guys okay?” He croaked.

The Captain stirred, a great cut on his cheek. His shoulder held a gash too. He groaned as he pulled himself up, feeling his hair, looking to them in a panic. Artifae gently leaned closer, holding the fabric still and offering it to his captain. Dhib Albahr took it gratefully, nodding slightly.

“I think I've changed my mind, Captain.” Artifae said. “I think we should have gone back for the ship.”

The three laughed together, a sense of relief between them.

“What about the others?” The Captain asked.

Artifae stood up, unsteadily, as too did Ban. Closer to the rubble, was a mound that began to move.

“Taisha!” Artifae shouted, limping towards it.

The mound was wrapped in a leather coat, beneath it were two metal hands. Next to him, Taisha had sat herself up. There were small cuts on her face, as well as her hands. She got up slowly.

“Captain!” She called out. “It's Sylo, I think he's hurt!”

“What a shame.” Ban muttered.

They helped the Captain up, and the three of them walked to Taisha, who had stood herself up fully, and slowly made it to Artifae, and the two hugged fiercely.

“You okay? You sure you're alright?” He asked quickly.

“I am. Is your leg hurt?”

“Uh-huh.” He said, sitting himself down again.

The Captain slowly ran across the rock to him, as Sylo began to struggle himself upwards. His metal hand crunched against the stone, but his left arm was limp.

“Teht? Are you hurt?” The Captain said, kneeling next to him.

Sylo spluttered, slowly pushing himself upwards with one arm. The other was almost dangling from it's socket.

“Your arm...”

“I can't move it. It must be broken.” He said through a portcullis of teeth.

“Or just dislocated.” Ban said, leaning closer.

Gently they took his arm and examined it. It had come loose at the very top, separated from a plate attached to his shoulder. Ban carefully touched it the shoulder, and Sylo did not wince. With some strain they lifted the arm back into place, and Sylo helped reattach it. He flexed his arm, and his fingers began to move.

“That's got it.” Sylo said simply, lifting himself onto his feet.

“We need to bandage your leg, Artie.” Taisha said, concerned.

“I'm okay.” Artie lied, the world beginning to spin around him.

“Here.”The Captain said, kneeling by him.

As he was wrapping the turban back into its rightful place, he held out a length of it and tore it, handing it to Taisha. She wrapped it around the wound and above, tightening it until Artifae could barely feel his toes.

“Thanks.” He said numbly.

“So what now?” Ban asked.

“Now we find that wretched Dvergr.” The Captain said, tying the orange fabric back into shape around his head.

“I think they headed back for the jungle.” Sylo said.

“If they're in cahoots with those pirates and their employer, they might have headed back to the camp.” Ban said.

“I don't think we're in any shape to go find them.” Taisha said sadly, wiping the blood on her trousers. “Maybe it's time we cut our losses, headed back to the beach.”

“Perhaps you're right.” The Captain said with disappointment.

“No, we've still got a chance.” Artie said, struggling to his feet.

“What makes you so sure?” Ban asked.

“I'm not sure, but we came this far, we survived an explosion! We can figure something out.”

“Face the facts, kid.” Sylo said wearily. “We were outmanned and outgunned before hand, now we're all cut up and bleedin' everywhere. We don't stand a chance.”

Artifae chewed on this. Reality was distorting itself and repairing again with every second. He felt tired, more so than pushing a hundred wheel-barrows of rocks could achieve.

“At the very least, we need to find the others. Regroup, before we have any kind of plan.” The Captain said.

“Then we should get off of this volcano, for starters.” Ban said.

Slowly, they began to manoeuvre themselves. The ground was a sea of biting fangs, and they struggled to navigate the decline into the waiting tree-line. Artifae's ears continued to eclipse the entire world with its incessant ringing. The afternoon heat beat them down, and everywhere he saw the exploding rubble as if it was happening over and over again.

I can't believe it. That treacherous snake.

He turned to look at the rabble that they were. Taisha held onto him, helping him slowly descend, caked in blood and dirt like the rest of them. In her other hand was the staff she cradled so dearly, its feathers and beads still hanging on for dear life. The assassin, Sylo Teht, led the way, his coat ragged and battered. After him, the Captain held his head up high, his silver sickle-sword dangling by his thighs, and ever by his side, was Ban Sleuitel.

“Hey Ban.” Artifae called out, feeling like he had drunk an entire bottle of Ship-shine to himself.

“Yeah?”

“You have wings? Since when?”

Ban chuckled, and stepped slightly in front of them. They pulled at one side of their torn vest, revealing the two black wings inked onto their shoulder blades. Below them were hints of other tattoos, of every other colour, but less vibrant.

“Wow.” Artifae said. “Do they all come to life? Like your bird, and your swords?”

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“No.” Ban said, shaking their head. “Just a few of them. The rest are normal.”

“What makes those ones special then?”

“A technique from the Old Age. The Rayne Clan found a way to mix magic and particles into ink and put it onto a body. Only a few pass down the technique.”

“The Rayne Clan? What's that?”

“Bunch of low-life gangster wannabes.” Sylo said loudly and with distaste.

“Says you, assassin.” Ban spat back.

“Are...are you part of The Rayne Clan?” Taisha asked tentatively.

Ban cricked their neck, looking away.

“My family is, yeah.”

Sylo cut the air with a hideous laugh, stopping entirely and turning to Ban.

“Did you know a Tully? Tully Steen, I think his name was.”

“Uncle Tully?” Ban said with a withholding innocence. “Of course I know Uncle Tully, he was killed in...what a minute, don't tell me...”

“Uh-huh.” Sylo said, nonchalantly. “When I worked for The Whisper.”

“Oh, you son of a...” Ban said angrily.

“Sylo killed Ban's uncle?” Artifae said, shocked.

“I don't think they were actually related.” Taisha said quietly. “It's a gang thing, I think.”

“Please, gents.” The Captain said amicably. “Let's not fight among ourselves now. We should find passage away from this foul place, first.”

“Hey, I've got no problem.” Sylo said with a cruel grin.

“Luckily for you, he was an asshole.” Ban muttered.

The Captain and Ban walked past Sylo, who watched them, his grin slowly fading. He turned to Taisha and Artifae expectantly.

“You worked for The Whisper?” Artifae asked.

“Didn't have much of a choice.” Sylo said, shrugging.

“There's always a choice.” Taisha said, challengingly.

“Yeah, couldn't you have gotten a normal job?” Artifae asked.

“Normal?” Sylo said, anger building in the vein in his neck. “What the Hel do you think normal is?”

Artifae watched the fury in his eyes, and his bravado melted.

“There was no normal for me, growing up. My father was a madman. The things he did...”He ended in almost a whisper, trailing off into pained memories.

“What? What did he do?” Taisha asked, compelled.

Sylo turned to her with a viper's eye.

“He studied the dark arts, is what he did. Used me as a guinea pig. I spent months in a dark room, not seein' the sun. For the first twelve years of my life, I'd never seen a face before that weren't his. I did it because he asked me to, because I loved him. You talk about normality, and choices, you know how I lost my arms?”

The two shook their heads, sullied by fear.

“I was a Guardsman. I had only just passed the academy exam when I was thrown into a fight, lost my arms trying to save someone. Then they covered the whole thing up, pretended it never happened. Something stupid like an explosion in the stacks. What choice is there, when everything you do, you think is right, ends up hurtin' ya?”

He bared his teeth at Artifae, who could not respond.

“I don't know.” He said finally.

“No. You don't.” He hissed angrily, turning on his heel.

There was a shouting below them. Suddenly, Ban and the Captain were running back to them in a panic.

“Oh Hel, here we go.” Sylo said, withdrawing his guns.

Suddenly a clamour began emerging from the jungle, followed by figures.

Oh damn, it's the pirates! Again!

*******************************************************************************************

The full strength of the remaining pirates emerged charging at them. Sylo readied his guns.

“Wait.” The Captain called out, running to meet them. “Hold your fire.”

“Now's not the time for that.” Sylo said, gritting his teeth.

“We can't fight them all. Not right now.” Ban said, wheezing.

“What do we do now?” Taisha said, terrified.

“Follow my lead.” The Captain said raising his hands, and slowly dropping to his knees.

He winced as the sharp rocks came into contact with his joints, but he remained there. Slowly, Ban, Taisha and Artifae lowered themselves to, as the tide came hurtling towards them.

“You guys are stupid.” Sylo muttered, continuing to train his weapons on the charging group.

“Teht! Get down!” The Captain said angrily.

Suddenly, an explosion ripped past them, something pinged off of a rock nearby. Kutja Moljac was in the crowd, Ol' Beauty belching a line of smoke out of her mouth. Sylo growled in fury, before relenting, holding his weapons up, and slowly descending himself. The pirates ran up the hill, slowing slightly, but not relinquishing their fury. For a second, Artifae thought they weren't going to stop.

Even if I did try to fight, what could I do? I can barely stand at the moment.

He clamped his eyes down tightly as the hammering of stone grew closer, until it began to slow. The pirates formed a half-circle around them, bitterly mocking and deriding their new prisoners. The Captain remained still, carefully watching the ragtag group around them. There were even more of them than what ambushed them at the beach.

“Step aside, outta my way.” A gruff voice said.

Kutja pushed his way through the crowd, the treacherous High-Eve, Southern-Man and Satyr standing behind him.

“Cap'n.” Kutja said, delight and malice melding together in his dirty smile.

“Kutja, you treacherous toad.” Ban hissed.

“Wot? Why are you angry at me?” Kutja asked, pretending to be insulted.

“You were part of my crew, Moljacs.” The Captain said calmly, although anger and hurt showed their signs.

“Yeah, and you led us 'ere. Your fault really, ain't it?”

“Yeah, all this for no treasure. What was the point?” The Satyr said, swinging their hammer onto their shoulder.

“We were supposed to help each-other.” The Captain said through gritted teeth.

Kutja laughed.

“An' we did, din' we? You led us 'ere, and we found us a new employer, nothin' personal cap'n. At the end of the day, we came to take what we could.”

Artifae couldn't help but look around to see Sylo, studying the Dvergr with criss-crossed fingers above his head.

“Speakin' of.” Kutja said, stepping towards Sylo.

He stood in front of him, pointing Ol' Beauty up towards the Eve's chin.

“See this? Classic bit of Bronze Dvergr design, this. Unlike your outdated Old Age pieces of crap.”

Sylo remained silent, watching the Dvergr carefully.

“Still, don't see how you should have these and I shouldn't...” He said, reaching towards one of them.

In an instant, a silver hand was on Kutja's wrist, squeezing it. The Dvergr yelled in pain.

“Stop it!” The Satyr said, standing with his hammer in both hands.

“Oi! You new guys! Shut it!” A Tigron pirate said, his bare-chest showing his gold and black striped fur that covered his body.

Kutja pulled until Sylo eventually released, and the Dvergr stumbled backwards, muttering and cursing. A fissure appeared in the crowd, as the pirates began to separate. Two sides were formed, and in the middle, was Silema Aldolphus.

“Ah, Captain Albahr. What a pleasant surprise.” She said with her most charming smile.

Despite the severity of the heat and conditions, she still radiated an ethereal beauty. Her skin and hair were as immaculate as any day in New Peridios, and her clothes showed no signs of wear. Behind her was a flustered Orkan professor, whose sweat seeping through his linen suit. His face was always one of discomfort, as he pushed his spectacles up his light green, sweaty nose. Cradled in his other arm was a thick, old book, its pages barely remaining in place. To her right, was the Frost-Kin. He stood proud, the white cobra wrapped around his chest and arm. When he saw Artifae, he grinned with jagged teeth.

“Well, look who's here.” He sneered.

“I wish I could say it was pleasant, Senator.” The Captain said sternly. “We came here because we heard you had been kidnapped.”

The Frost-Demon known as Sarvi laughed darkly, and Silema smiled.

“Oh my dear, you are right. How heroic of you.” She said coyly.

“What's going on here?” Ban asked.

“Why, we were simply seeking the tower, just like you.” She said calmly. “Such a shame, to see it go to ruin.”

Kutja laughed loudly with his friends, and she turned to him.

“You are the perpetrators, yes? The Dvergr who destroyed it?” She asked.

“We are. I am, I mean.” Kutja said, trying to stand tall and puff his chest out as far as it would go.

“You have my thanks.” She said with a sultry smile, and Artifae saw sweat pooling on his forehead.

There was a crunching sound. Artifae whirled his head behind him. Sylo Teht was on his feet, both guns in hand.

“You!” He cursed, so loud it repeated in the wind.

She turned to him, surprised. Sarvi stepped in front of her, but she placed a pale hand, keeping him behind her.

“Me?” She asked.

“Don't you play dumb with me, witch.” He hissed.

She smiled at that, placing a hand on her hip.

“Teht! Sit down!” The Captain said angrily.

“Not this time.” Sylo hissed.

What has she done that's so bad he would risk his and our lives to kill her?

“We've met?” She asked playfully.

“I swore I'd kill you if I ever saw you again.”

“Sylo!” Artifae called to him. “What are you doing?”

Sylo turned to him with glistening eyes.

“She gave me the contract. She was the one who ordered Master Se Iring to be killed.”

Artifae watched, his head still spinning.

He killed her Artie.

He looked down at the jagged black rocks beneath him.

A senator wanted her dead? Why?

“She ordered the hit, then had the Guardsmen waitin' for us outside. It was a trap, an' all for nothin'.”

“Ah, Sylo Teht, of course. I had a feeling you would be out here, somewhere.” She said with an amused smile.

Sylo gritted his teeth.

“No!” The Captain called. “Don't!”

Artifae winced as Sylo squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. He tried again, but neither weapon would fire. Confused, he looked at the barrels. Silema had her index finger raised, her smile evolving into something much crueller than before. At the end of each barrel, was a blob of something opaque, a smooth white substance with hints of red and green.

Is that wax?

Before any of them could move, she raised her hands upwards. Wax washed over the mountain, away from the collapsed toward, a multicoloured tide racing towards them. Before they could stand, it surround each of them, wrapping itself around their bodies. It was cold, a sickly smooth substance that moved eerily over Arrifae's ankles, trapping his wrist by his groin, and moving to his elbows. He struggled, but it wrapped itself tightly around his body, constricting himself.

Around him, each of his companions had received the same fate. On Sylo, he had been given wax manacles that were manipulated downwards, bringing his hands and weapons to his feet. Each of them struggled, but there was another force at play.

“There, that's better.” Silema said, delighted.

“Why?” The Captain asked simply.

She turned to Professor Kasar, who had backed away from her, gulping uneasily.

“Professor?”

“You...you want me to tell them?”

“The captain and I bonded during our passage over here. I believe he will understand if we are able to tell him. I hope so anyway.”

She turned to him, her smile dropping for a second. Artifae tried to move his arms, but the constrictive wax would not budge.

“As for the rest of you, you'll decide your own fate.” She said to the others. “You can aide us in our search, or I can keep you here.”

Sylo struggled violently, but even his metal arms could not break the sealing wax, there was something keeping it in place.

Just who is this woman?

“Professor, please.” She said, ushering him forwards.

Nervously, he stepped forward and addressed the Captain.

“Captain.” He said, fidgeting his hands beneath the book. “I study Thaumaturgy, as you may yet know, it is the scientific study of the implications of magic. In short, I study how magic works at the Science Guild. When the, uh, flash occurred, my peers were obsessed with trying to find the answer, but I felt I might already have it.”

He presented the book to them.

“This book, was hinted at by another book, by a scientist called Dr. Kering-Gavata in the very first days of the New Age. There, he hinted to what was occurring, something only old records call The Daem, which may have been stopped by several beings of great power. He called them, The Millennium Priests.”

The bound group looked among themselves, confused.

“Dr. Kering-Gavata wrote his memoirs and thesis both on escaping whatever The Daem was, revealing his study, a tower built by the ruins of the city of Lomo'oppa, under the fiery mountain of Brak'Hara, protected by some magical seal.”

“What is all this? We thought you were after a golden skull.” The Captain said.

Silema rolled her head back with laughter.

“A golden skull? Can you believe that, professor?” She said lightly.

The Professor did not smile, drumming his fingers along the book.

“What we seek is no skull, nor is it gold. Dr. Kering-Gavata wrote his studies on The Millennium Priests. They used their powers to save the people who would inhabit New Peridios, and in return, lost their physical forms. They were contained into urns, shaped like faces, each utilising a single colour, and a power beyond reckoning. No, we're not after a golden skull so much as we are after a yellow head.”

“A yellow head?” Captain Albhar asked, disbelieving what he had heard. “What foolishness is this? I have never heard of Millennium Priests, or whatever this, this Daem is.”

“Did they not teach you that in Jassia, Captain?” Silema asked quietly.

A deep chill washed over Dhib Albahr, as his eyes widened.

“I suppose that makes sense. Coming from a country of slavers, warlords and killers, why would they aggrandize someone else? No, I bet you were taught your noble country-folk survived on Cranson Point through your bravery and wit.”

Captain Albahr floundered, unable to speak from shock.

Something flashed in Silema's eyes.

“Whomever finds the power of these, can inherit it themselves.”

“Why would you want it?” Ban asked angrily.

She did not reply, but the charming senator seen before had passed, revealing only the face of a mad tyrant.

“You have found it?” Captain Albahr asked.

“This book reveals only how to find it, hidden by a code. It must be cracked first before we can start our search.” Professor Kasar said sadly.

“That is true. Hand it to me for a second, please Professor darling.” She said, reverting back to her old eloquent self.

Cautiously, it held the old tome in both hands, and held it for her. She did not take it, but placed a single hand on top of it. Her feral smile returned, and Artifae saw something twist in her green eyes for a second. A strange black glyph appeared under her hand, with rotating symbols within a ring. It shifted, and as it did, the book began to decay. Before Kasar could react, the book began to crumble, turning to fine ash until nothing was left but his stained hands.

“No...” He said in disbelief. “What did you do?”

“I won't let anyone else find it, Kasar. You will help me find it, now we have the proper clues to get us there.”

“There was so much more in there to find! We don't even know who wrote the damned thing!”

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, a reassuring gesture, if not for the malice in her eyes.

“You will help me find the head of Stand, Professor, as was our agreement.”

The Professor's lip began to quiver, and his legs weakened. Sylo growled beside Artifae, and the captives watched helplessly.

“I suppose it's probably too late to ask for your allegiance now, Captain?” She said, brushing a thick strand of black hair away from her pale face.

The Captain looked at her sternly.

“I have already played my part in this heinous plan of yours, Silema. I will not be a part of this any further.”

“A pity.” She said with a smile. “Truly.”

She turned to her rabble of drooling pirates and nodded towards the jungle.

“Head to the ship. We are leaving this place.”

The band of pirates jeered a final time, slowly manoeuvring around each-other, trying to get a last jab or insult in before they did. Kutja waved again, grinning as he did outside of the tower. Artife felt hatred coursing through him.

“You're gonna get yours. Someday, someone's get you.” He said seething.

The Captain and Sylo gritted their teeth, thinking about the revenge they would get if their hands were not tied. Silema looked amused once more.

“Someday.” She said simply. “Maybe.”

The pirates began to murmur among themselves, as Sarvi and the Professor lingered. They turned to see what the commotion was, and through gaps between legs, Artifae saw people emerging from the jungle. They were golden.

The Demeterosi! How many times have they saved us now?

Sarvi looked to Silema, and began pushing his way through the crowd, making it to the front.

“Surrender now, foul pirates!” He heard a faint but noble voice call out.

The prisoners looked among themselves.

“Is that Sofia?” Ban asked.

Artifae shared a smile with Taisha and The Captain, looking back to Silema, who had not dropped her smile.

She doesn't look worried. Why doesn't she look worried?

Without another word, she walked past them, still contained in their wax bindings, and further up the mountain.

“Are we...are we saved?” Artifae asked.

“Don't count on it yet.” Ban said.

Silema Aldolphus stretched out her arms, her fingers flexed as far as they could go. The black glyphs appeared by the palms of her hands, larger this time, moving independently of each-other as more rings and symbols appeared. She closed her eyes heavily, her body beginning to convulse, and when she opened them again, they were no longer green. The palms of her hands dropped to the black volcanic rock below her. Beneath their legs, the world began to rumble. A screeching sound pierced the air, the very mountain itself trembled violently. Artifae felt his skull shake within his head.

The mountain-what is she doing?!

The screeching stopped suddenly, and the throbbing volcano became eerily still for a blinks width, before its peak exploded. Molten blood escaped the open wound with a mighty roar, smoke and dust escaping. The lava began to slowly bleed down its sides, and Silema slowly lifted her head, revealing her new eyes. That was once green was now black, her irises had changed into white lines, like hands of a clock. She slowly lifted herself up, albeit unsteadily.

Her eyes, they look like clocks.

“Silema! Your orders?” Sarvi called out.

Like clocks...is she...could she be the one Sofia was looking for?

“Kill them.” Silema said coldly.

A roar went up among her pirates, as they charged.

“Warriors! To arms!” He heard Sofia yell.

Feet pounded on the rough rocks, the mountain rumbled, and dark clouds polluted the sky.