The remainder of the journey passed by in little longer than a gruelling hour’s march. They kept to a path not intercepted by any worming lava streams, so as not to exhaust either Hadrian or Veida any more than necessary. Remus was certain they could repeat the stunt multiple times over if needed, but it wasn’t worth the hassle. Plus, it would weigh on his guilty conscience to watch others exert themselves over and over again for his sake.
Nevertheless, possible shortcuts taken or not, they arrived at a stone wall winding its way across an area for as far as Remus’ eyes could see. Within, buildings assembled out of combining various rocky materials — including patches of the same stone the walls consisted of — stood in a sort of confused hodgepodge. Violet and he stood at the back of the gathering as Veida stalked her way to two wielded guards, and the two of them did their best to blend in. Which proved to be more difficult than you’d imagine, being the only individuals with hair within the large group not of immense power.
“A success, Veida?” A feminine voice prompted.
“Indeed.” The older woman confirmed, before effortlessly switching the conversation’s topic. “Have you received news of Cyrus’ return, by any chance?”
The guard sighed, as if this was a typical cause for concern. “It's the same as what was reported before, unfortunately. He'll be back in a few Durations.”
The other sentinel exhaled in relief, as if glad to have this one chance to voice his opinion on the matter. “I understand that Cyrus is the leader of one of First Rite’s top five, hence his extended stay in the city, but I can’t help but find his absence terribly aggravating. I just wish he would get back sooner than later.”
A few of the trainees expressed agreement at this, and even Hadrian had to nod along to the words, contrary to his grimace. “Cyrus has his obligations, and we must respect them. But in brighter news, yes, we did clear out the magma flies. There'll still be some smaller gatherings scuttling about here and there, but we have . . . extra hands to manage those.”
Both guards looked at him from below the helms of their armour, eyebrows narrowed. “Extra hands?”
Remus cringed as all heads turned to him. Extra attention . . . just what I was trying to avoid. Before he could even murmur a word of explanation, the female guard examined him sceptically. “You brought in outsiders to one of our bases?” She addressed Hadrian directly. “Our largest base?”
The man coughed into his fist. “They called upon an ancient obligation of ours, we can’t object to their presence. And they’ve promised to assist us in clearing out the remainder of the Unbounded — we can focus our energy on the rest of our duties.”
The woman stared Remus and Violet down, but never did outwardly complain. “Affirmative. Just make sure they don’t get on anyone’s bad side. We’re not in Divine Ground until you reach Hybrid’s actual, central city. Territories are fair play, and if one of our men or women find themselves holding a dislike for the newcomers . . . it won’t be pretty.”
At last, after the most intense staredown of Remus’ life, the guards stepped aside, and they were permitted entry.
The structures taking up the fenced off area looked as though they were constantly preparing for a siege. They were like tiny fragments of a castle scattered all about, with only a moat missing, if you didn’t count the bajillion interconnecting rivers coursing towards the Infernal Bays, though those were outside of the camps’ borders, thankfully. Simply having to manoeuvre across one was enough to deeply ingrain a lifelong disliking towards any sprawling, fire-prone vessels of liquid in Remus. The only peculiarity about the settlement was that all the buildings held a faint, sooty purple shade to them, which Veida soon explained to be obsidian.
“Obsidian?” Violet repeated, disbelieving. “Gathering this much must of took . . .”
“A lifetime,” Veida answered, “or more accurately generations. Before we rose to power, this territory was one of the most attacked in all of Hybrid. All eight of the factions are constantly vying to extend their space, to use their Marks to mould the environment to their liking. This place used to be a sprawling fortress at one point. Pity what has become of it. This is the state it reached after centuries of warfare. I was lucky to not have been born in the heat of that hellish conflict. The War has reached a stalemate now, and most territories are too occupied with the Unbounded uprising to bother with increasing their lot.”
Remus had been listening intently to the discussion, and chose this as his chance to partake. “You could argue that the main factors preventing humanity from a true state of peace are, of course, the Unbounded, and the corruption that seems to pervade every state of authority.” He had intended to expand on this point, addressing Damosh’s tyranny, when the glare the cloaked woman shot in his direction dissuaded him.
“You’re a fool if you believe humanity will just stop bashing their heads against each other when, or if, the Unbounded are dealt with. The gods have overstepped in their annihilation of reality, and these servants of Infinity are now enacting her will. And Infinity is nothing but vengeful. Some believe rightfully so.”
“Do you?” Violet enquired.
“I don’t care if the Unbounded are rightful in their cause or not,” Veida spoke so darkly that the air around Remus seemed to chill, “I will see every last one of them slaughtered regardless.”
The words unnerved Remus, to the extent that he conversed no more as they ventured deeper into the Fire Sect base.
Tents were set up practically everywhere, with clansmen strolling through casually going about their daily affairs. The slight scent of something burning infested his nostrils at every step, and three long wooden tables were set up at the camp’s exact centre, with a few cleaners passing through collecting dirty plates and cutlery.
“This is where you’ll be eating for the foreseeable future,” Hadrian explained joyfully, “three meals a day. We’ve missed breakfast and lunch, but we’re just in time for dinner! Everyone, pack away your things into your bunks, and enjoy a couple hours of free time — you’ve deserved it!”
This was met most positively, with the trainees scattering about with gleeful looks about them.
“Not to overstep on your already extraordinary generosity,” Violet began carefully. “But where will we be staying?”
“There’s enough space in the bunks for both of you . . . but enrolling does require you to shave your head.” Hadrian’s promising start ended rather sourly, in Remus’ humble opinion.
“Shave?” He asked, just to double-check. “As in, completely? Until my scalp is fully bald?”
Hadrian crossed his arms. “Yes. It's customary to demonstrate your commitment to the clan’s forces, as well as the practical uses of doing so. Is there a problem?”
Shoving down a thousand unruly complaints, Remus put on a brave face. “None. None at all!”
He could clearly eye Violet snickering behind a hand. Wait until she realises she’ll have to trim her hair also. Won’t be so funny then, will it?
“I do not believe it would be fit for Violet to stay in the bunks, if she doesn’t wish to enrol. However, I do have a spare room in my laboratory that has been left to gather dust for quite some time.”
The spiteful portions of Remus' mind didn’t like the sound of this. But soon the rest of his psyche won over, and he felt genuinely happy for her. Pity that his poor head was about to face the waxing of its life.
“Would you like to stay? I am aware you have shown interest in my research. There are many things I could show you.”
Violet’s grin widened, as if in slow-motion. “Really? I’d desire nothing more.”
The two women soon walked away after that, deep in the depths of a feverish conversation that Remus’ mind couldn’t process, already filled to the brim with songs of loss for his beautiful flock of ginger. He’d never before spent time taking particular care of his hair, a mistake he could only recognise now upon the harrowing prospect of losing it. He vowed that the oversight would be remedied in a few Passings’ time, however, when it finally sprouted back.
“So!” Hadrian roared, summoning a crackling fire into the centre of his palm. “Shall we get it over with?”
Remus only vaguely comprehended his legs carrying him away, as he screamed in horror.
----------------------------------------
Violet followed the veiled woman up a row of cracked stairs, taking her first full view of the famed laboratory. Her first impression was that it appeared . . . ordinary? That didn’t quite seem to fit however, for it still was a far cry from the architecture in any other city she’d visited. It was brick, for one thing, not the miscellaneous varieties of stone and obsidian like the rest of the outpost, and whilst not indifferent from most buildings in this regard, its general structure set it apart wildly. It appeared as if some bored god had assembled each individual room as if they were gigantic building blocks, with no care for logic or reason. Its base floor’s design wasn’t the ordinary cuboid, but a scattering of several jutting out from a circular centre. It only stretched to a secondary floor, which instead of a typical roof, housed multiple glass domes.
The entire thing was painted white, and as she followed behind the back of an entering Veida, it occurred to Violet just how blinding the entire building would be on a hot, sunny day.
“Your room will be up the staircase, and to the second door on your right,” she explained, pointing to an open doorway, through which a few stairs could be seen, “I’ll be right up. Make yourself feel at home. I just have a few notes I have to jot down from this Duration’s expedition.”
Expressing her thanks, Violet did as she was bid. Walking up the steps and then the stairway, she couldn’t help but observe in awe the many paintings the woman must have hung up, presumably years ago. They all depicted the equally grotesque forms of Unbounded, with their scientific names listed below, on the frame.
Amongst them was a dramatic scene of the wolves she and Remus had encountered on a multitude of occasions — a seemingly endless sea of the fiends forming an oval, where two of the most gruff and imposing of the pack were pouncing at one another at the epicentre. One of them was painted beautifully, if Unbounded could ever be beautiful, in mid-air, at the peak of a jump towards the other. It was clear who the victor of the brawl would be, and subsequently, the pack’s new leader. Below this, in information new to her, the species name was written in spidery handwriting. Snow Hounds, it read. Violet thought it a strange name for the creatures, seeing how snowy glades were hardly the only place they appeared, but quickly moved on to the other artworks.
The rest of the Unbounded were far more impressive, with giants of all varieties causing terror across desolate battlefields, bird-like creatures whose wingspans could easily crush multiple buildings at once if they were to collapse, and strangely, the further she walked on, they appeared to showcase . . . ordinary people? All of them wore heavy armour, and had distinctly human appearances, as if they were valiant paladins who could do no harm. For a second, Violet thought Veida’s handwriting was simply too crabby to make out, but on a second glance, no, it wasn’t penned in the mortal tongue in the first place. The odd series of scratches meant nothing to Violet, but she suspected that to an Unbounded of vast intelligence, they may do.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Not that she had ever met an Unbounded with anything remotely resembling intellect, but then again, she had never encountered one stronger than Emblazed, and that was at a push.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but find the stoic faces eerie as anything, and so quickly sped the rest of the way to the room Veida had described.
It was quaint, and unlike the rest of the house’s cluttered interior — Veida was clearly a hoarder — barren, for the most part. A lone twin-sized bed sat in the corner, its white covers and feathered pillows undeniably appealing. There was a desk with a chair next to it, both crafted out of oak, and other than that, that was about it. Up above, dim light bled through the oval windows she had seen earlier, and after a few hours, Violet knew that she’d be able to see stars through them. Snuggling in for the night in a comfortable bed, and falling asleep to a starry sky reminded her much of years past, and the time she and Verity had shared a room together in their youth. It was before either of them were old enough to warrant separate chambers, and she recalled wistfully, with a grimace on her face, the times she and Verity had sneakily stayed up, observing the night sky and all of its intriguing mysteries.
There were no creepy paintings here thankfully, and Violet took a seat upon her covers, resulting in a groan from the bed. It must have been ancient, but she didn’t mind. After sleeping in the wilderness for so long, this was almost a paradise. After a while, she stood up, obliging the need to stretch, only to notice the patch of dust she had removed. Running a finger across the soft material, a build up of a grey, furry substance lingered on her fingertip.
Dust. She noted to herself. Veida hadn’t been lying when she said the room hadn’t seen some use in quite a long time. Before she could dwell on this discovery too deeply, footsteps grew gradually louder beyond the door, and it was slowly pushed open. Veida’s smiling face emerged from the other side.
“Do you like it here?” She asked, taking a seat by Violet upon the dust-ridden bed.
Violet nodded. “You’ve done so much for us. Thank you.”
There was a comfortable silence for a moment, before Veida continued. “I haven’t even been in this room for the longest time . . .” A look with an indecipherable emotion behind it possessed her features. “I’d forgotten what it looked like.”
“Why is that?”
Veida shrugged, face angling downwards. “It stirs up bad memories.”
Violet didn’t mean to intrude any further, but the woman continued. “I never wanted to research Unbounded — at least not originally. Neither did I want to join the military, or advance past Emblazed. I didn’t care for all this power I’ve found myself with now. Oh, what a joy it would be, to be as innocuous as I was back then.”
“So why did you advance to Warden?” Violet prompted, sensing that Veida was merely searching for an excuse to vent. Everybody deserved one, once in a while.
She sighed, as if great chains that had been confining her all her life were now finally beginning to slip off. “I had a brother, once. He was always so very happy.”
“What was his name?”
“Leander.” She smiled, as if merely reciting her sibling’s name brought her joy. It quickly faded, however. “We used to spend all our time together as children: playing games, annoying our parents . . . it was one of the highlights of my life. Then one day, bless his soul, Leander wandered past the territory's borders. He was always a curious boy, I believe he just wanted to play. Camps like this can be very confining, you see, even more so when you’re too young to venture past them.”
That hit rather close to home. The Chaos manor, even if she somewhat missed it now, in a disturbing sort of way, had seemed like a prison for most of Violet’s life. Nova had always been so protective, and then that parental protection had morphed into all out control. She wondered why that was.
“An Unbounded was out there,” Veida spoke slowly, as if each word was both a relief to get out, and a great labour, “one that most definitely shouldn’t have been. It was a Foot-Soldier Rank apparently. It must have been, for the watchmen who inevitably went out to deal with it reported the fiend to have been speaking.”
“In the mortal tongue?” Violet enquired.
Veida gave her an odd look. “What else would it have been? But yes, though they can only mutter a few words at that strength. Our language, to all accounts, is apparently quite complex.”
“On the way here, I saw what looked to be a different language on the portraits of . . . soldiers? I can’t be certain.”
Understanding clicked into place. “Oh yes, I know what you’re referring to. Those weren’t knights my dear, but very, very powerful Unbounded. At that level, they can speak the mortal tongue as close to fluency as you can get. Though their names don’t translate well into our means of communicating. It would come out as a series of growls and grunts. So they still use their own sickening tongue to refer to their own names. Researchers like me have been trying to get a grasp on the language for decades now. What you saw were my attempts at writing it down.”
This was all a great shock to Violet. Of course, she had heard of Unbounded becoming more humanoid at higher realms of power, but the people in those paintings — no, not people; monsters — had looked perfectly human. And then there was this talk of an Unbounded language. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but when all you’ve been exposed to for so long of the species is the absolute weakest of their kin, it was hard to imagine having a civil conversation with one. Or them conversing amongst one another in the first place.
A dark suspicion she had held in a forgone crevice of her mind for so long, though never fully confronted, arose once more within her. It was giggling to itself, as if a boisterous child proven right, screaming told you so! over and over again. And yet, alas, she couldn’t address these concerns to Veida as immediately as she desired to. Telling her the real reason she had come on a whim would have to wait, as much as it agonised Violet, for Veida was evidently on the verge of returning to her own wistful story.
“What the Unbounded that-” She choked on her words. “That killed Leander was saying, I don’t know. Reports said it sounded like a two syllable word, but that piece of filth was barely of enough mind to speak, even for Unbounded standards. Whatever the case, I was distraught at my brother’s murder. Then benumb, and then finally, after all the grief, oh so terribly angry. I funnelled that fury into researching Unbounded, to understand what they mean by ‘seeking divine justice’, as many of the strongest of the fiends claim.”
“I’m sorry.” Violet managed, unsure of what words could ever quell such pain.
Veida stood up and stretched, her next words of a much lighter tone. “Oh don’t you concern yourself. I shouldn’t be bothering you with all this, you’re not my therapist. The rest of the story is relatively happy anyway. I became as powerful as I am now after decades of gruelling work, and a respected individual in my field of research. And oh, I found my partner in Hadrian — there’s that too.”
“ . . . Wait. You two are married?”
The woman gave her a disbelieving look, that soon wavered into a booming laugh, that challenged the likes of her husband. “What did you think we were?”
“I don’t know.” Violet frowned. “Old friends?”
Another chuckle. Despite her embarrassment, Violet was pleased to hear the woman express such delightment, after that depressing reminiscence.
“At one time, we originally were. Now then, I do believe I've been talking far too much, and don’t you deny it! Now then, as for why we actually came here. You’re interested in my research, correct?”
“Actually,” Violet began tentatively, “it might seem stupid, but I wanted to ask you about something.”
“Oh?”
She took a heavy breath, as Veida waited patiently. “Can Unbounded hide among humanity?”
The researcher considered these words carefully. “It is rare, but yes. It's called the doppelganger phenomenon. Beings equivalent to Splintered Ranks or above are able to accomplish it, though it doesn’t seem to be a strict rule, with it getting easier and easier to blend in as they grow in power. Why do you ask, if you don’t mind answering?”
“Well, you see . . .” Violet was frantically brainstorming. How was she going to explain what was bothering her so much, without coming across as a complete lunatic? After much deliberation, she decided to just get it over with. “Veida, I’ve been lying to you.”
The woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “You have been?”
She took a deep, unsteady breath. “Yes. Remus and I are from completely different sects. Hell, I’ve only known the guy for coming on to a Passing at this point. And while I have family in the Ravaged Lands, I was born and raised in First Rite.”
“But why lie?”
It was an innocent question, and the woman was being incredibly reasonable in not throwing her out at the nearest opportunity. Nevertheless, this, and even more so to what was to come after, were what Violet was dreading most.
“We’re both . . . fugitives of sorts. Remus stole his Droplet, before breaking out of prison, and I . . . ran away from my sect. But I had my reasons. Please, just listen to me for a few minutes, okay?”
Slowly, after a terrifying second of hesitance, Veida nodded. “Go on.”
“My family has been acting strange for coming onto a decade now.” She winced as the vulnerable words left her mouth, as if each was a target ready to be ridiculed. “They’re almost emotionless, but not at the same time. I remember when I was younger, my father and sister were so full of life, but now all of that has been removed, I fear forcefully. Their interests in anything not regarding the sect faded, as if not existing in the first place, and their tunnel-visioned focus on the clan — its robotic. And then, when I confronted them about a certain letter that was never supposed to enter my hands, they attacked me.”
This had definitely caught the woman’s attention. “In First Rite, on Divine Ground?”
Violet nodded, immensely thankful that Veida was taking her the least bit serious. “Yes. But I escaped. The letter, the same one that kick-started this mess, mentioned a Warlord, one who's been lost for years. Akuji, Warlord of the Life Sect. I think . . . I think they have him captive.”
The researcher appeared fully interested now, almost troubled. “But why?”
“I don’t know.” Violet muttered darkly. “I don’t know. I’m travelling to a location mentioned in the letter. I have a hunch that whatever I find, it’ll have something to do with the man. Maybe even the Warlord himself, if he’s even survived.”
There was a silence where Veida allowed her to catch her breath. Peculiarly, letting it all out had been both therapeutic, and frightening enough to quicken her heartbeat to an alarming speed.
“I-”
“Yes?”
“I think . . .”
Veida smiled reassuringly. “You can tell me, I won’t judge.”
Violet exhaled. “I think my clan are . . . all Unbounded.”
The moment seemed to have its tension drained out of it. I finally said it! Violet internally cheered to herself. For so long, she had tried to suppress the chances of such a prospect proving true, but deep down, she knew with a foul certainty that it would be better to accept the possibility of the suspicion, then to let the paranoia of it eat her alive.
“So . . .” Veida spoke after a moment, scowling, not quite facing her. “You believe your family has been taken over by Unbounded doppelgangers?”
When put like that, Violet realised just how bizarre it all sounded. “Yes.”
“I won’t flat-out deny your suspicions,” the woman said carefully, “but by your account, your family was once human, only to have been replaced by Unbounded look-alikes. Do you believe the whole sect to have been replaced by these imposters?”
“I can’t be certain. Some of them act equally as methodical as my close family, most definitely. But the idea of them all being replaced . . . I don’t know, it just doesn’t sound-”
“Realistic?” Veida interrupted. “Yes, to put it bluntly, it doesn’t. There are a few key flaws with your suspicions. Most notably, doppelgangers don’t replace already existing people, they fabricate fake identities. I don’t know of many Unbounded varieties that can replicate someone’s appearance, and the few that can only manage it for a few minutes at best. Assuming that you don’t have extremely brief encounters with them, I’d have to rule that explanation off. I’m not dismissing you entirely, however. Unbounded are cunning, and the secret takeover of an entire sect sounds exactly like what the smartest of them would organise. Have you ever seen any of your clansmen's Marks, by any chance?”
“Only my sister’s and father’s, when we were very young.” It then occurred to her just how long it had been since she had. Violet had never really noticed their absence, but now that it was pointed out . . . “Though not in recent years. No.”
Veida shot her a disturbed expression. “And the sect itself? What’s their area of divine power?”
“Chaos.”
The woman stood up, pacing frantically around the room, as if the mere thought of keeping still repulsed her. Just watching the researcher, Violet could see her mind running a thousand theories by.
“That might just be general enough to feign . . .” The woman turned to her, a determined look on her face. She offered a hand. “Come to my actual laboratory. I need to run a few tests. Come, and tell me anything and everything you think may be of even the slightest importance. If what you’re saying is true, one nugget of information may just be the vital key to unravelling what’s really happening here. And I already know that whatever it is, I won’t like it. Not one bit.”
With that, Veida left the room. Following swiftly behind her, Violet couldn’t help but find the flinty look masking the researcher’s features to be terribly frightening. There was a furious darkness there; a darkness she wasn’t keen to unleash any time soon.
And gods save the poor soul that would.