Before he left, Zan had wrapped himself in a makeshift poncho to protect himself from the rain.

The simple garb was effective. With the rain warm, it fell off his hood with little clanging noises. Zan thanked the gods. The rain was light, warm, and not soaking into the ground too quickly. Thus, Zan could sidestep the worse of the thickening mud.

Looking to the sky to see if the Slipstream re-appeared, Zan saw nothing.

Crap. It shows up once a day, minimum, and I miss every appearance. What the heck?! Zan sputtered.

Zan’s travel was peaceful.

Mostly.

Once, he encountered an animal. The animal chittered in its tongue, then ran off.

He encountered a few automotrons, but Zan dispatched them with haste. Though each encounter was brief, he took each encounter seriously. He was by himself, after all, and the enemy, despite their lumbering nature, could move about in near silence. If Zan didn’t even keep track of the sound of crunching leaves, the dreaded ‘fake human foe,’ could sneak up and, with a lucky blow, end him. Touching his freshly re-supplied hand grenades, Zan felt the reassured. Should he encounter more than he, alone, could chew, Zan would have a way out. Thanks to the Wardens, thanks to the order.

Following the path, Zan saw the sun emerge higher into the sky.

It was late morning.

Looking around, trying his best to remember the lay of the land he saw on the large rectangular table in the war room, Zan had temporarily lost his way. Several landscapes looked similar to what he had seen in the war room. Taking a wrong turn, he became lost.

Well, not ‘lost,’ per se, but disoriented.

It was true, this part of the land Zan did not know. Like all the environs in the area, though, it was not any different from the landscape which Zan’s home village was native to… the two were literally a few stones’ throw from each other.

Zan found his way around, easy enough.

Scuttling down a few drop offs, back on a dirt path for a while, a hunter’s trail, then through a dense path of trees, and down another drop off, and Zan found the dense patch of woods Sigma-Prime had showed him in the war room.

Pristine, Zan thought. Peaceful. And filled with animals, he noticed. Birds, wild hogs, insects aplenty.

Zan then spent the following couple of hours scouting the immediate vicinity of the would-be hunting zone. Zan concluded the villagers would be plenty safe if they strained themselves to stick to the little patch of forest. On three-of-four sides, the forest zone had tall bluffs, thus giving any hunter an easy defensive measure should the enemy attack… not that Zan expected the automotrons to attack. Too many trees, Zan saw. They could never lumber between all those trees, roots, and uneven ground without falling to their de-activation point.

Having found, scouted, and concluded the forest zone would be a good place for the villagers to hunt, Zan just needed to scout the surrounding areas, eliminate any Automotrons he saw.

As he expected, he encountered no such automotrons. This is good. It means the enemy is not focusing on us as much… good. Proof is in the pudding, and all that. But why? We’re right on the border…

Zan was about ready to ‘call’ the automotron search when he found something to justify continuing. A weird noise.

What on earth…? Zan thought, hearing a noise which sounded like woodpeckers, but much more bee-like. ‘Bee-like woodpeckers’ was not an exact description, but it was the only one Zan knew which came to mind and made sense. Needing to know the origin of this unusual noise, Zan pecked his nose into every nook and cranny to find the source. Eventually, after so much searching and rubbed-raw elbows and knees, he found it by climbing a bluff, then crawling through some bushes; parting the leaves, Zan saw an automotron camp.

No, not a camp, Zan whispered in hardly a pinch to him. It is small. Only a few golems are here. No artillery pieces, either. No crossbow positions. What’s on those small tables? Weird tools; a device with a needle dipped in ink spelling out symbols on a rolled-out parchment scroll. Is this actually some kind of research outpost?

Deciding he didn’t need to wait anymore, Zan crawled ahead and stood. He pulled his blade free and slew the three automotrons before they hardly knew what was happening. Seeing the three new un-animated chunks of wood laying down, all dead-like, Zan had a quick look outside the outpost, making sure no other golems were nearby. Satisfied he was alone and no other golems were about to ambush him, Zan settled himself near the strange machine with the long piece of parchment attached.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Feeling the parchment in his hand, Zan thought the paper felt thin, too thin for normal parchment, yet somehow durable, thick, even. Zan did not need to look too closely at the ink, for its pungent odor told him it was of a certain quality.

On the scroll were symbols, numbers, and lines of some meter. Watching the trajectory of the lines, Zan saw how the line went straight for a while, only to become distorted, twisty, zig-zagging all over the place. Nothing about this made sense to Zan.

But just because it made little sense to Zan, did not mean it was pointless.

The enemy stationed an outpost here. Why was unknown. But Zan had his conjectures: and maybe — just maybe — that reason was the same reason why the enemy didn’t yet fully commit themselves to the region’s submission, despite their proximity to the border? Long shot, yeah. Zan knew that. Still! He took the parchment. Folding it as best he could, he gently placed the intelligence into his satchel.

The Screen Master might know what these readings are… Zan thought.

Finding his way back to the command center, the sun now lower to the ground than he would have liked, Zan felt sure of himself. He did good today.

Jiehong was hanging outside the command center upon his return. He sipped a gently fermented beverage meant for a less-tolerant palate. “There you are! I was wondering where you went off to,” Jiehong said, a boy-ish grin peeking across his lips.

“Yeah. Should have left a note, sorry,” Zan said.

“Oh, I’m just busting your chops! I knew you had gone out. By half the time of your arrival, I considered myself off for the day. The Wardens told me you were out doing something, so no harm, no foul. Besides, we have these ear-implant things, so I could’ve just pinged ya,” Jiehong said.

“Oh, yeah. True. I still forget about the earpieces. I know that sounds silly, seeing as how it is stuck to my ear. How it is, though!” Zan said, laughing.

“Let’s catch up later,” Jiehong said, excusing himself.

Zan looked forward to their conversation and entered the war room.

“Screen Master: I have cleared out part of the forest where the villagers should be safe to hunt. I only encountered a few automotrons during the whole day, so as long as they keep themselves aware, I think they should be good,” Zan said, wanting the Screen Master to forward the information to the proper people right away.

“Confirmed, Zan. Your wish is my command,” the Screen Master said, his facial features leaving him for a second as he processed Zan’s request and set it in motion.

Continuing after a second or two, the Screen Master said, “Done. I dispatched a communication drone to deliver the message via a magically encoded message glyph which communicated the update to them through the means of an artificial voice.”

“Cool. So, you mean, like, the message read itself to the people?” Zan asked, wondering what exactly just happened.

“That is correct,” the Screen Master confirmed.

“Super wicked,” Zan said, genuinely impressed at the command center’s level of magic and technology. A combo he knew was extremely rare to see.

Thinking his job was accomplished, Zan suddenly remembered the other thing.

“Wait. One last thing,” Zan said. “While pushing out the few golems which were prowling about, I found this weird, small camp. It was a research outpost, I think? I found this weird machine and a scroll. Here is the scroll.” Zan handed the scroll over to Sigma-Prime.

“Ah! I recognize what this is!” Sigma-Prime exclaimed. “This is an ele-graph result. An ‘ele-graph’ being the machine you found this on, the ‘result’ being this paper. This is not good at all…!”

“Why isn’t is good?” Zan asked, suddenly feeling sick.

“En ‘ele-graph’ is the shortened term for ‘elemental graph.’ This machine purports to uncover the primal composition of local terrain. Devices like these are rare, but they are always trouble.”

Revelation of the enemy trying some new trick filled Zan with anxiety. Fear, even.

“What could they be doing which requires such devices? What makes them troublesome?” Zan asked.

“People with nefarious intent in their souls utilize these devices to help them form complex spells. Spells so complex, even the would-be caster must plan far ahead of when they wish to cast it. Few incantations, Zan, are so complex as requiring one to set-up equipment and study the nature of your target. We would need more information on what the enemy is attempting to discover by setting up these outposts, however, before we can hypothesize what they are planning.”

Taking in every word from the Screen Master, Zan felt stressed. As if the whole day hadn’t been one which boosted his spirit. Sucks, Zan scowled, feeling his mood sour.

“I understand. I will keep a lookout for anymore posts like these. If I should discover them, I will take them out, grab their special parchments. Good?”

“Good!” Simulacrum and Sigma-Prime repeated back.

“Before I call it for the night, any updates for me while I was out?” Zan said.

“No. We remain on the same issues and problem from earlier, at least regarding your unexpected encounter within the Backroads,” the Screen Master said.

“Okay. Nor rush… I was just curious,” Zan said, letting them know they should take as much time as they needed.

“I know you are idle, Zan. But before we expose you to the Backroads once more, we must understand if an unknown actor sabotaged our way. If we understand this question, we can mitigate any potential damage from an ambush,” Sigma-Prime explained.

Zan did not care, though. He thought having some time off to rest his muscles was fine. He said, “No, take your time. It will give Jiehong and I some time to tend to our community, make sure everyone is okay. We can stand to be a bit more attentive to our friends and loved ones, right? At least until we have to head out again.”

“Your dedication to outside yourself is admirable, Zan,” the Screen Master said, breaking into the conversation. “But be careful not to spread yourself thin. Your first commitment is to the order. Do not belittle your mind into thinking it can do everything every day.”

“Don’t worry, guys, I know how much of myself to give. Speaking of, I am going to find Jiehong to chill for the night. Don’t wait up for us,” Zan said, ‘peace-ing’ out of the war room.

Leaving the stuffy room with dusty tech, Zan saw the evening sky, stars beginning to peek away through the clouds.

Seeing Jiehong on the other end of camp, doing some patrols, by the looks of him, Zan found him. Feeling suddenly very youthful, very immature, Zan said, “Want to go get toasted?”