Chapter 9
The Island
“It’s been a wild two days here, though one thing has remained consistent: the Guardian Corps has gotten off to a rather sloppy foot, I’m afraid.” Raymond cocked his head, listening to the unfortunate voices that were coming from the speakers of Jay’s tablet. “Commander Masters, do you expect they’ll be able to pick up the slack in today’s competition?”
“From everything I’ve seen and heard, I’m sure they’ll be able to stage a comeback the likes of which we’ve never seen.” The Flame Commander’s voice was confident, which was a feeling the captain of Tempest Squad felt he desperately needed in that moment, but was unlikely to receive. “However, given today’s competition isn’t an individual test of strength but a full-team event, I daresay the odds can slip in anyone’s favor. We’ve yet to see entire teams working together, so it will prove interesting and speak much about the tournament in the days to come.”
“Shut that racket off, Jay.” Sal’s annoyed voice caused the tablet to fumble within Jay’s hands. At the wheel, Kenny gave forth a boisterous laugh. “I don’t need to hear how badly our team’s doing at this tournament.”
“I wouldn’t call having earned a point as bad…” Jay muttered, but he stowed away the tablet nonetheless. “What do you think, captain?”
“I’d prefer to not comment on a tournament I can’t change, and instead focus on the mission at hand,” Raymond said, puffing his breath out just enough to fog his glasses. He took them off to clean them, affording Kenny another chance to laugh. The man’s bald head shined in the light of the skyship’s bridge, and his beard rustled with every movement.
“You just don’t want to talk about your sis,” the mechanic said. He ran a hand through his beard, absentmindedly playing with his goggles. “Getting third place in her first outing after her teammates lost so poorly…oof…I can only imagine the uproar Corps Castle is in.”
“Is this productive, Kenny?” Sal said, her eyes narrowed in his direction. He threw his hands up, letting the darker-skinned woman obtain the peace she was requesting. It wasn’t long before she flopped in her seat and gave out a loud groan. “How much longer are we going to need to hover here, captain? It’s already been two days since departure and we’ve searched most of the archipelago.”
“You say that, but I don’t see Bruce, Trent or Emily here,” Jay said. He was leaning against a wall now, fiddling with an earring and stifling a yawn. Raymond wanted to chastise him, but his second (or was it third?) in-command offered a wink that told him he remained alert.
“Maybe you should be down there with them, Jarvis. Goodness knows I’d be glad to be rid of your mouth for a moment.”
“Aw, Sal, didn’t know you cared. I’ll try to talk more just to keep you company.”
“The Defender’s engines are quieter than you,” Sal insisted. She picked a cup off a nearby control panel and, in clear annoyance, chucked it at Jay. The expert Guardian caught it and sipped down whatever contents were inside. He blanched just as quickly.
“You did just service them, Sal,” Kenny grunted. “Still, Ray, she has a point: we’ve been here for days and have yet to find anything. The girls are itching for action.”
“I worry for you when you call magic cannons ‘girls’, Kenny.” Jay went ignored this time. Raymond sighed, placing his glasses back on his face and walking to stare out at the open sea before them.
“We’re not going to fire the weapons unless necessary, and keep ‘em concussive if we do. Why do you think I put Sal in charge of them?” he addressed his squad. The closer he got, the more the landmasses that floated in the water, representing the Silacian Archipelago below, became clear.
“Because I’m responsible, unlike these knuckle-heads.”
“You’re not a battle nut. And either way, for now, it’s reconnaissance. I’d rather not fire until I have confirmation of dangerous Order activity. And even then…information comes first.” As if his words were a cue for some kind of action to start, a flare of pulsing yellow was fired into the sky above one of the islands.
“Looks like another bust,” Kenny groaned, but he slowly pushed on the throttle to the engine. “I’ll go get ‘em. Em is the only one left for any decent information…”
The engines of the skyship began to churn, grinding in the air above the archipelago. Perhaps it just sounded loud to Raymond, but he flinched, hoping they weren’t too disturbing to the area around them. His fears held little ground, with Kenny and Sal working as a single unit to turn the skyship in the direction of the flare. Taking advantage of the lull, Raymond blew up at his hair and craned his neck in the direction that Emily had departed for.
“Worried about her, captain?” Jay asked, elbowing the young man. “I wouldn’t worry. Em is as tough as they come, and has better common sense than most of us.”
“I’m not worried. I just hope she finds something.” His statement and hopes were reiterated as the skyship descended, its loading ramp lowering to grant passage to the boisterous duo now boarding it.
“Nothing, captain. Just a bunch of swamps,” Bruce said. His clothes looked drenched, while Trent, following behind him, was dry. It was clear who had drawn the short straw. “Some houses over the marshland, but they were all abandoned. Looked lived in…kinda…”
“Anything else of note?” Raymond asked. Trent shook his head.
“Not unless you count evidence of boat storage. There was an empty harbor, but it’s hard to say what could have been kept there,” he said in response. Raymond sighed.
“Then it really is left to Em. Sal, Kenny, anything on the horizon?”
“Turning the ship, captain,” Sal said, offering a lazy salute. The skyship floated upwards, the sound of its engines now dulled. With all the prowess at her fingertips, and Kenny’s assistance, the woman rotated the skyship to give a three-sixty view of the sky around them, and the islands below. No flare was seen.
“Come on, Em…” Raymond’s fingers began tapping absentmindedly against a metal railing. To the side, Bruce and Trent were arguing about their drenching adventure while Jay laughed at their predicament. It was muted to the captain, waiting evermore for the flare, only for a harsh crackle of static to sound over the skyship speakers.
“Message incoming, sir,” Kenny said. He wheeled on his chair, clicking a few switches. Emily’s voice echoed across the bridge, low but quite distinct.
“Captain, sir. You’ll want to land nearby. I found some locals. Don’t want to spook them off. I think I found something.” Emily’s message was over almost as soon as it began, and Kenny looked to his captain. Raymond smirked.
“You heard her. Land on her island, but at the edge. We don’t want to be seen. Go in low.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to, captain?” Sal offered another wink to Raymond, and pushed down. The engines gave a miniscule whine as the skyship’s nose tipped towards the ocean, but everything quieted once they’d evened out just above the water’s surface.
Raymond pushed up at his glasses and tapped the sword at his side. He and Jay nodded to one another, the orders as clear as day. Bruce and Trent had departed for their quarters (one to get a change of clothes, no doubt), while Kenny and Sal focused on landing the skyship with little effort. Raymond didn’t catch a glimpse of where they were landing, but wasn’t concerned. He could hear the sound of the surf and saw nothing more than a tree line nearby. Not much more time passed until the skyship landed, a plume of sand rising from where it touched down and obscuring the skyship. The ramp was lowered right away.
Raymond began giving orders as he walked in its direction, Jay falling in step with him. “Sal, Kenny, keep the Defender working right, ‘kay? Tell Bruce and Trent to defend it, and keep it cloaked for as long as you can, except for nights. If there are locals, let’s be wary.”
“She’s in our capable hands, Ray,” Kenny affirmed with a salute. “Magic instrument’s in good condition so we should be good long as you need.”
“We’ll let you know if we see or detect anything on our radar. If you have a chance, patch an audio feed to us. Give Em our best.” Sal spun in her chair, and Raymond took his leave.
Departing the skyship and stepping onto the island, Raymond noticed a distinct change in the air. It was heavier, with far more humidity than he’d have expected. The sun beat down from overhead, making his skin sweat within seconds and his glasses fogged up from the moisture. Jay was undeterred, but didn’t lead the way, preferring for his captain to step forward first. That he did, and the softness of the grass that bordered the beach produced no sound. The only thing that did was a slight whirring while the skyship camouflaged itself behind the duo.
The two men, knowing their companions were protected, proceeded into the line of trees that separated them from wherever Emily was. The concern for his squad mate pushed any other thoughts, including those of the tournament and his sister’s performance, completely from his mind. There was a reason that Emily had used a communicator to the ship instead of sending up the flare, and given her warning about needing to see what was below, he could only guess it was something vital.
Just before the pair entered the trees, softly swaying in the island breeze, Raymond paused to gaze out over the ocean. There was a dull roar nearby, that of a waterfall and the horizon that was glutted with such a thick mist it made navigation impossible. He shook his head, a frown on his lips and then he passed into the shadows.
“Bizarre feeling, Jay, being this close to the edge of the world.”
“Wonder if we could just…walk off,” Jay said. He had a hand shielding his eyes from the sun, trying to perceive what was beyond the veil of mist. “Never been this far south before. You’re from a coastal town as well, right, captain?”
“Not this close to the edge of the ocean. I can’t imagine what it’s like for whoever is living here.” His question was one he’d soon have an answer to. Seconds after they passed into shadow, the sunlight now dappling the dirt path etched on the ground, Raymond heard a sharp whistle, quiet but high. Neither male stopped walking, but both looked to Emily. She was no longer wearing her Corps’ robe, clad instead in a traveling cloak that left her face exposed, but didn’t betray anything else about her. Raymond’s eyebrow rose, and moments later he found his own cloak being tossed into his hands.
“You’ll want to go incognito, sir,” Emily insisted. She tossed another to Jay, though it hit him in the face before falling to his hands. “The villagers are very wary, and I’m not quite so sure they wouldn’t clam up to a Guardian.”
“I doubt they’re used to visitors anyway, being on, you know, an island,” Jay pointed out, slipping the cloak over his usual robes. They concealed him well enough and Raymond did the same.
“What did you discover?” Emily was in motion before Raymond’s cloak had cleared his face, pushing branches aside to keep the path clear.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
“It’s really something you should see yourself, but be careful. I’ve introduced myself as a traveling healer, with my bodyguards on standby at camp. It was the only way I wouldn’t seem too suspicious,” Emily said. Raymond’s lips twitched just a little, bothered by the amount of non-information he was getting from her, but he shrugged it off. Jay looked amused.
That amusement soon became a man frozen in place. Raymond could not blame him.
The trees had stopped obstructing their path, and in its place was a clearing, or rather, a town. People bustled about, but from even the first image of the town, there were no modern conveniences. Not a single thing of electricity existed there. Wooden structures that were homes or other general stores dotted the town, but hardly had any organization to them. It was all rather pell-mell, with no order other than the dirt and gravel paths winding their way across the island town to the nearby well, or the large cave fitted with a door to, presumably, a storehouse.
Although, the building that had caught Jay’s vision, and was likely the reason for Emily’s hesitation, was the grand, dilapidated church in the center of the town.
“For such a ramshackle town, that sure is a nice-looking church,” Jay said, giving his own low whistle at the sight of it. “Bit old and busted, but nice. You think it belongs to the Order?”
“Latest intel reports all but say that the Order has a tie to the church,” Emily said. “Lack of actual services, but I did hear there would be something about a service. Townspeople were tightlipped otherwise.”
Raymond scratched at his chin, watching the oblivious people running their daily tasks. His eyes occasionally examined the church, reminding him of the Abyssal Palace and the few pieces of architecture he had been to on his own journey. This one was kept in better condition than many of those others, and it was surer a sign than even Raymond could have hoped for. All that was left was figuring how close a connection these people had.
“Good work, Em. Let’s ascertain for sure and then we can take whatever action is needed. Remember, the goal isn’t just finding Order members, but how close to the priests these cells are,” Raymond instructed them. He adjusted his cloak, careful to make sure that his robes weren’t showing through, and as an extra precaution, he discarded his glasses from his face. His vision worsened, but he could see enough in front of himself. “Tread carefully, like Em said. That includes you, Jay.”
“I can tread. I’m a master of deception.”
“Just, don’t blow the cover Em set for us. Make yourself a believer of the goddess if you must. It can’t be that hard. We’ll meet in front of the church in…three hours. Don’t be late, and don’t attract attention.” Jay saluted, while Emily didn’t bother, stopping him from showing the usual requisite respect. The reprimand reminded the young man that they were undercover, and the trio walked forward into the town proper.
The further they walked into the clearing containing the village, the livelier it became. Clanging issued forth from some buildings while the rushing roar of a nearby waterfall to a lake became noticeable. In turn, it pulled Raymond’s attention to the cliff where the storehouse was set, and he noticed the cascading water on the other side.
“Ooh, those are some exotic fruits. Never seen any before!” Jay exclaimed, skipping over to a pile of fruit outside a general store. Or so Raymond presumed it was; he didn’t give much thought to it once the shopkeeper addressed his subordinate. Emily was likewise distracted.
“Oh, Miss Healer, thank you for your assistance. We were wondering if you might provide your assistance one more time. Your bodyguard is welcome to join,” a young woman, hooded but penitent, said to the redhead. Emily spared a glance to Raymond before giving him the out that he needed.
“No need to worry about him. He’ll be restocking our supplies. What do you need?” Like Jay before her, Emily vanished with the young woman into the wending path of the town.
“Supplies…right…” Once more, Raymond scratched at his chin, looking for a place to fully start his investigation. Noting the church again, he decided it was as good a place as any to begin.
His feet naturally carried him in that direction, the dirt of the path feeling akin to mud. Some people in the area stopped and stared at the newcomer, but he just waved, careful to not stare too long on account of his poor eyesight. They often returned right back to what they were doing, whether it be hauling off bags of something or walking into another building. Even without technology, Raymond could see word liked traveling fast around this place. He didn’t let that bother him, especially not when he crossed over the threshold of the church and into its illuminated sanctuary.
Raymond had only been in a handful of churches, those last remaining bastions of a near dead religion, but the one thing they always had in common was their uncommon beauty. Most had fallen into a state of disarray, but those that remained always depicted a beautiful tapestry. This one was no different.
“Come to admire the architecture, young man?” The voice, one of vigor and age, caused Raymond to acknowledge the lone person in the sanctuary. His feet carried him over, though his eyes tracked the stained glass and tapestries adorning the building. None of it was anything he hadn’t seen before: merely the usual depictions of battles in the past, and the goddess. Beautifully depicted, but little more than artwork, nonetheless. “We do not get visitors.”
“I’m here with the traveling healer, serving as her bodyguard.” The man clapped his hands together and nodded, a smile stretching his otherwise unremarkable features. “Whenever we run into churches, I like to pay my respect to the goddess.”
“Yes, the goddess gives plentifully. It is the reason we can live on this island. In fact, we give great thanks to the goddess in our great ceremony but a few days from now, where we offer many gifts to an emissary from the Realm Above.” Raymond’s eyes narrowed just slightly at the words the attendant spoke, but he showed no other emotions. The man remained clueless. “Will your healer stick around? There is no doubt in my mind that the goddess would bless her, as she blesses so many of us.”
“We’ll see,” Raymond answered. His eyes traveled over the numerous frescoes around the building, searching for any cracks or hidden passages, but found nothing. Only the altar stood out, as a dais in the center of the room, engraved with markings. The captain walked up to it, his hand fingering its smoothed edges. “It’s not often to meet a believer.”
“We owe much bounty to the church. It brings us good fortune.”
“Yes, you seem to have very little.” Not waiting for a response, Raymond dropped to his knees, as if in prayer, but his eyes got close to the altar, noting the six symbols etched, as if representing the elements. It gave no sort of clue. “The ceremony must grant quite the boon.”
“We make do, as the goddess wills it. The world beyond is full of its devils. We want not of that. We purify such demons.”
“Indeed.” Unsure of what else to say, Raymond parted his lips with a breath. It almost seemed…odd. So odd, Raymond wondered if his mind was just overthinking things. The church was no different from any others, but such a gathering of believers was only made possible by one thing. The fact there was a caretaker of the church at all, parroting things about the goddess that could have been found in any random Order rhetoric, or in a history book, made Raymond’s mind uneasy. “Thank you for your time and illumination. I must gather supplies for our continued journey.”
“May the goddess bless you.” The man offered a parting bow, which Raymond returned, and the two separated. His steps could not carry him out of the building faster.
It felt...wrong. All of it. Though Raymond couldn’t put a finger on it, and the town seemed no different than any other, there was something almost rehearsed about it.
No, not rehearsed…Empty, Raymond realized to himself. His glasses still absent from his face, Raymond looked back at the church attendant, the man watching him like a hawk. It’s practiced…mere rhetoric…Just like what I did.
Wishing to avoid more attention, Raymond moved on, towards the store where he’d last seen Jay. Some were inside, buying their tropical fruits or medicine, but none offered a word to him. Just a nod, or a grunt, but few paid attention and Jay was nowhere to be seen. Ascertaining that he must have moved on, Raymond continued to take his time, perusing the shelves of goods there and picking some basic food items.
“Your selection of foods is as excellent as always, storekeeper. You must have much to be grateful for at the coming ceremony.”
“Grateful to the goddess, as always,” the storekeeper said with a light bow of prayer. Raymond’s ears were pricked, his eyes running over the same can of beans over and over again. Only when the owner of the store straightened did he realize what he was holding in his hands, and how odd it was. “The priests are planning a great surprise to offer at the ceremony, as well.”
“Long as we are penitent, unlike those heathens on distant shores.”
“Now, now, we must not begrudge them their rituals of combat. Even the goddess demands her priests’ blood from time to time, as they so say.”
Raymond had heard enough, his eyes creased so far it felt as though they were about to be sewn shut. The “coincidences” were stacking up now. He swallowed, bringing the can of beans over to the counter. The storekeeper and his conversationalists went back to their usual business, offering Raymond opportunity to pay for the can and make his exit. Jay was still nowhere to be seen.
Raymond had other plans, retreating back towards the trees and slipping his communication tablet from under the folds of his robes. Certain he was out of sight, he contacted the ship, an act which took little time before Sal’s blurry face appeared on it.
“Captain, checking in already?”
“I need you to run a diagnostic, Sal. Search for any electronic signals from nearby. I have a very sneaking suspicion this town isn’t what it seems, even if it’s an Order base,” Raymond asked of her. He rubbed his eyes, hoping it would clear the blurriness caused from poor vision, but it did nothing. All it caused was a yawn to rise in his throat. “The people here are…odd. They say all the things a believer in the Order’s doctrine would say, and they keep speaking of a ‘ceremony’, which I’d think nothing of, except for the fact that it seems to be happening soon…and they mentioned something about ‘rituals of combat’.”
“Sounds remarkably like a tournament, captain,” Kenny grunted over the line. “Running diagnostics now and remaining on standby.”
“What do you think it means?” Sal said. Raymond’s lips twitched a bit as he came up with an answer.
“I think it means they have a conduit to the outside world, despite it not appearing so. If that’s the case, I want to know where and why. There might be some answers there, either about the Order or otherwise,” Raymond answered with a yawn. “Their faith may yet still be real.”
“Got something,” Kenny said, ever the quick one. He rolled over, handing the report to Sal, who looked at the incoming information and nodded. “Oh yeah, there’s a signature, all right. Looks like it could be the works: from radio to television. They’d need a high vantage point to store the equipment. Could explain why Jay the Jackal could get such a good signal for tournament footage.”
“High vantage point, huh?” Raymond’s foot scraped on the dirt road, looking up to the mountainous peak where the storage facility and waterfall were. “I’ll let you know if I find anything. Don’t do anything until I contact you again, understood?”
The signal cutting off indicated they understood quite well.
Taking his precautions again, Raymond stowed his tablet away and kept to the trees, careful to hide in the shadows. No one appeared to see him, though he yet remained wary as the mountain came closer, his gaze drawn upwards. Without his glasses, it was difficult to tell what was at the top, though he had to guess that would be difficult no matter the vantage point. Instead, he focused on the door built into the side of the mountain. No one was near it, and Raymond slipped close.
The door was round and wooden, clearly one that swung open, and large enough to allow carts to travel through. The only thing obstructing the entrance was a large, metal lock that kept it in place. That was no doubt the thing that made them ignore placing guards on the door, but wasn’t something that would keep him out.
Raymond turned his back on the door, his fingers touching the lock behind him. He could feel it melting, changing shape until the lock disconnected from its own mechanism and hit the dirt with a light thud. No one noticed, and before anyone could, Raymond’s foot tapped at the door and opened it a crack, allowing him to slip through before anyone could see.
The noise of the waterfall was reduced to a faint roar in the lit cavern, and all sounds of the outside were cut off. Not wanting to be lost in the dark, Raymond replaced his glasses on his face, noticing the lit hall of the storage room. Or storage hall, because this place was most certainly far larger than a simple place to store goods. It set his very bones on edge.
There was something here. Something more than electricity.
Raymond’s hand drifted to his blade, his senses on high alert as he proceeded down the torchlit passage. Boxes were in his way, but he skirted them, deeper into the hall, where the true extent of the mountain hideaway became obvious. Multiple corridors leading to different areas, hewn as if by an expert user of earth-based magic.
No simple hideout, Raymond thought, biting back a laugh. He squeezed through another gap between boxes, when a glow invaded his periphery. That glow pulled much of his attention down its respective corridor, drawing closer to wider room. Daylight could be seen entering through holes in the cavern ceiling, and the smell of sulfur invaded Raymond’s nostrils. A forge…? What could they be making here?
His question was answered sooner than he anticipated.
First, he saw the wires, connected to an electric fire, as if a portable forge, before noticing all the other electronic paraphernalia. It was scattered, and some of it seemed old and displaced, possibly stolen. That was informative enough, but the true object of Raymond’s attention was contained in a field of electricity, floating above an anvil: a blade, black as night, thin and sharp.
“A Legendary Weapon…? Surely not…” He moved closer, his shuffling footsteps echoing around the chamber, and he paused as close to the blade as he could get. It had all the appearance of one, ornate and ancient, beautiful and screaming power. “But the magic…”
A yawn graced Raymond’s lips as the observation nagged at his brain. That nagging, however, was replaced with urgency and a sudden realization. This was the fourth time he’d yawned in all too short a time. His hand gripped his sword, whipping around and beginning to drag it out, only to stop at the haggard man that he’d not heard approach him from behind.
“Welcome, captain. I’ll not have you snooping. Fall into the darkness of sleep.”
Raymond attempted to retaliate, but the wave of darkness from the man’s hand enveloped his senses. He’d been too slow; too unobservant. His body drooped, crumpling to the floor while his eyes stared up at the weapon, that niggling in his brain that it was wrong eating away until, at last, he collapsed and fell unconscious.