“How?”
“How what?”
“How did you keep on fighting? How did you keep up hope when it looked like there was no way out? The station was melting at that point, Auntie.”
“I think the question you’re looking for, Emma, is not how but why. Because the how is obvious: I powered through. That’s it.”
“Okay… then, why-?”
“Because that’s my job. I knew what the consequences were of me signing that contract. I was made very aware of what the oath and the creed meant. The moment that contract was signed, was the moment I could no longer say no to my duty and responsibilities. When you sign up to become a TSEC trooper, you become a keeper of the peace, a protector. You’re the last line of hope. The very thing people look to when they’re at their worst, when people have no one else to turn to. You know the Thai saying your mother always said to you when you were sick?”
“You don’t think about Doctors until you're sick?”
“Exactly. The same thing applies to us. Nobody thinks of us until they’re staring death in the eye and there’s nothing between them and the abyss but a thin sheet of composalite. Nobody registers our existence until shit hits the fan. But when it does, we’re there. Ready to put it all on the line no matter the place, no matter the time, and no matter what stands in our way. Because that’s what this whole thing is about. Everyone has a job to do, Emma, and when any one of us refuses to do it, it all comes apart at the seams. I did what I did that day because I knew there was no one else that could do it. If not me, then who? Even if it was just one civvie in need of rescue, or even if it was a thousand, it wouldn’t have changed my actions that day. I would’ve gone in there until fire ate through the damn hull, because there was no way I was going to betray the hope of those who put their faith in us. Do you understand, Emma?”
“I… think I do. Thank you, Auntie Ran.”
“Critical: Requesting operator status.”
…
“Running PHYS-STAT functional diagnostics. Standby.”
[PHYS-STAT SYSTEMS ONLINE. RUNNING MEDICAL SURVEYS.]
…
[VITAL SIGNS: WITHIN NORMAL LIMITS. PRIMARY, SECONDARY SURVEY + ADJUNCT SURVEYS: AIRWAY INTACT. BREATHING NORMAL. NO SIGNS OF INTERNAL HEMORRHAGE. NO SIGNS OF TBI. GCS: PENDING. ALERT: RIGHT SHOULDER SPRAIN DETECTED. REPORT: PHYS-STAT [4] NON-LIFE THREATENING INJURIES DETECTED.]
“Cadet Booker, you must respond. Your mission is not over yet.”
Pain hit me first.
Then, it was shock, and exhaustion, but not necessarily in that order.
But no matter what I felt, no matter how I felt, I knew the fact that I was still feeling anything at all meant that I had to continue the fight.
Because the sudden silence that had blanketed the world not only meant that the explosion and its aftereffects were over…
It also meant that the noises that I should be hearing, the noises that I wanted to hear, were missing; and at a very real risk of going the same way as everything else the explosion had touched.
“Rila…” I managed out under a hushed, pained breath. My whole body tensed as I tried to move it.
“Critical: Requesting operator sta-”
“Override report procedures, reroute audio to speakers.” I ordered sharply, forcing each and every syllable through with immense stress.
“Acknowledged.”
“Rila… can you hear me?” I spoke louder this time, my voice penetrating through what I was now making out to be nothing but darkness, darker than even the night sky that was supposed to be. A few careful tilts of my head elicited the cracking and crumbling of what sounded like broken brick and crumbled mortar.
We were trapped underneath a solid layer of rubble.
Well, trapped would’ve been the word to use if it wasn’t for the armor.
A few seconds passed, and there was still no response. I tried craning my head down to where Rila should be, but scrunched up awkwardly as I was, there was no way of budging even an inch without digging out first.
I could still feel her presence through the glove’s haptic feedback though, and my left hand could just about reach what felt like her wrist, which meant I could still check up on her.
Straining my left arm awkwardly through the rubble, I squeezed the lateral palmar aspect of her still-warm wrist…
Only to be met with nothing.
No throbbing resistance against my finger.
No familiar pulsatile sensation that would’ve denoted life.
“EVI, EVI! In-” I paused, halted by a sharp shooting pain that ran up and down my right shoulder. “Increase… increase sensitivity of my left glove, try-”
“Do you wish to determine the pulse of this designated friendly: Rila?”
“Yes-”
“Pulse detected. Warning: Status Pulsus filiformis. Thready, inconsistent pulse. Possible underlying cardiological or pulmonary emergency noted. Further investigation is required for differential diagnosis.”
No… nonononono.
My whole world just stopped at that point, as I began reaching dangerously close to the brink of panicking.
“Whatever you do, just don’t fucking panic. It only makes things worse. Step back, reassess, plan, and execute.”
A sharp pang of pain followed by my Aunt’s advice was enough to pull me back from the brink, as the wave of panic that had threatened to sweep me away, just suddenly stopped short of doing so. “Alright, let’s get out of here.” I paused, taking a deep breath, before I started trying to move my legs, only to find out that I could barely wiggle them more than an inch.
Don’t panic.
Don’t fricking panic.
“EVI, I can’t move my legs.” I spoke calmly, carefully, even though that primal part of my brain was just about ready to throw a fit.
“Affirmative. Cause: mechanical, not medical. Cause is isolated to a failure of [1] vital component: EXO-SKEL-HIPACTUATOR. Field maintenance required to resume movement and mobility of lower extremities.”
I didn’t have time for this.
I just fricking didn’t.
“EVI, disable mobility and strength assist on sections of the suit affected by the damaged mechanical component.”
“Warning: Disabling mobility and strength assist functions will result in the affected areas relying on operator-strength alone. This suit is not rated for-”
“Just do it! I’ll crawl my way out if I have to!”
“Acknowledged, disabling mobility and strength assist functions in lower extremities. Standby.”
I felt a sudden pull as the bottom half of my body felt like it’d gained a good hundred or so pounds almost instantly. The ramifications of my decisions aside, I knew that every second wasted trying to finagle a repair in such an awkward position would be precious seconds detracted from getting Rila the help she needed.
Heck, it might’ve just been the lack of air or the compressive forces that was causing her condition…
Right?
I didn’t put much time into thinking about the why as I did about the arduous process of digging my way out of the rubble. And with my lower extremities forced to move without active assistance, it took what felt like an entire minute before I was able to clear the path up.
“Just hang on Rila, we’re almost out of here.” I spoke under another strained breath as I began making my way out of there inch by hard-earned inch. Without the exoskeleton’s active assist systems, I was left struggling trying to move my lower half against both the weight of the suit, and the weight of the rubble immediately around it. I found myself dragging both my own body and Rila’s with just my arms most of the way, before finally, we broke through into the open air and what remained of the warehouse floor now covered by a craggy layer of brick, mortar, and steel; with bits of wood belonging to what I assumed was what was left of Lord Lartia’s carriage convoy scattered amongst the wreckage.
It was there, in the dead of night, and the ominous silence that I finally got a good glimpse at the state of the girl as I laid her out on one of the few flat clearings that existed next to the warehouse.
It was after a few more seconds, and with the aid of the suit’s external light sources, that I finally noticed it. A bit more light revealed what was both a gut-wrenching realization that was accompanied by the relief that there was something I could do about this, since the cause of her condition became very, very clear to me.
A thin trail of crimson, and the quickly pooling layer of viscous red fluid, was enough to give me hints as to what was going on. Another visual inspection saw a small, but exposed wound near her flanks.
Without a moment of hesitation, I began reaching for my medpack, momentarily pausing out of the minor injury sustained from the blast; but quickly overcome by the pressing need to act now.
Unlatching and accessing the contents within with my right arm acting as a weak brace, I quickly found what I was looking for, and began desperately turning back to the trade apprentice to evaluate the other less than obvious signs of trauma that I might've overlooked after seeing her more obvious conditions.
Her airway was fine, but I still applied yet another spare cervical collar to her neck just for good measure.
I’ll run out of cervical collars at this rate…
Her breathing was… barely there, and strained, but nothing I could do about that now other than to try seeing if the pulse oximeter would even work with alien physiology.
Which brought me to that third, far more pressing point in my eyes. The very obvious source of all of this, her bleeding.
I grabbed a small tube from within the medipack, one with a built-in applicator that would make one-handing this possible. Gently, and trying my best not to aggravate anything else, I began applying the jelly-like brownish coppery paste onto that wound.
It adhered almost instantly, before just seconds later, forming a tight bond over the affected area.
The bleeding had stopped.
But almost as quickly as I could take a deep breath from that emergency, another quickly began to flare up.
As the pulse oximeter I’d attached to the apprentice’s finger that had read somewhere in the realm of the upper 90s, had suddenly stopped.
This meant it could no longer detect any movement of oxygen.
This meant that the trade apprentice’s pulse was undetectable.
Which meant… she was going into cardiac arrest.
My training sent me into an automatic frenzy as I moved forward and atop the trade apprentice. Forcing my right arm into alignment, and pressing my left arm atop of it with my hands interlocked, I began pushing down against her sternum, rising back up, then pushing down again.
“Please…” I forced myself to speak through all of the different emotions I was feeling right now. So many of which I just… wasn’t prepared to feel. “Please be okay.”
----------------------------------------
Rila
Is this… the end?
It must be.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Because as much as I’ve tried, tried, and tried, I can’t escape the family legacy, I can’t escape the fates that bind..
And if there was ever an ending that was befitting of the Etulsa name, it would be this.
“Life is just one grand, big adventure. From the moment your eyes open, to the moment my eyes close, I want nothing more than for you to see and experience the world. A world so many are barred from exploring, a world so many lack the means to explore, a world so rich in life and splendor as it is in horrors and tragedies, a world that we will never be able to cross in our lifetimes but one we’ll try our darndest to do so. Ours is a life of adventure, and because all of our paths lead to the same destination, we might as well make the best of our journey.”
I recall my mother’s voice speaking these words in a manner so enchanting that I once took it for gospel.
I recall my father’s constant reaffirmations of these words, as we traveled from village to village, town to town, taking up residence for weeks, months, even years at a time.
I recall my brother’s insistence on actively working towards these goals even at a very young age. An age where adventuring was definitely not appropriate, but one that was permitted owing to my father’s connections. He pushed himself, training himself towards that lifestyle in mind.
I recall myself trying desperately, ceaselessly, to follow in the same footsteps.
But I never amounted to much.
At least, not in the eyes of my parents and siblings.
Because it wasn’t the life I wanted.
Nor was it the life I was destined for.
That was someone else’s life, and if the fates had been kinder to my parents, then perhaps a more daring soul would’ve been birthed in my stead.
Alas, fate demanded that I upend my parents’ best intentions.
And now, fate seemed to have deemed it fitting for that life to end in a fit of irony.
From my novice years, to my apprenticeship, I had led what was undoubtedly a life more fitting of a crownlands commoner. I’d sequestered my questionable heritage. I’d reestablished myself in the middling politics of the commanaries, and I’d taken it upon myself to willingly sign my Crownlands Commons privilege away, for the sake of accruing even more stability. I’d ended up in the service of the Lartia house, whereby fate had seen it fit yet again to mime and mimic the life I’d willingly left behind, as my service ironically placed me on the road yet again.
A road which took me every which way, until finally, it led me down this path.
A path which I knew had been wrong from the moment Master Lartia had accepted that deal, and was all but confirmed by our encounter of the blue knight of the forest.
Cadet Emma Booker.
It was here that I finally felt that latent flame of wanderlust once more taking the charge. It was here that I allowed myself to be overcome with enough unwarranted sentimentality that I violated decorum to approach the stranger in armor.
The commoner in noble attire.
The commoner with a noble temperament.
The commoner… who was not ashamed to admit their birthright or heritage.
The commoner, who had seemingly struck enough of a chord in the upper echelons of power to have warranted a black-robe to act outside of his Expectant Duties.
Master Lartia had commented on how not only unusual, but completely unseemly this whole warrant was. For it broke Expectant Decorum to such a degree that most would find it unsavory, if not entirely career-threatening.
This rushed job was beyond questionable.
It was outright suspicious.
But a job was a job.
And to turn down a Royal warrant of such a caliber was not within my master’s temperament.
Thus, I followed unquestioningly. From the forests, through the town, and into the warehouse that was now my tomb.
“...Rila…”
There it was, the ending to my story.
“...Rila…!”
A distant, terse, distinctly female voice.
This was it.
I’d reached my destination, even if it took a roundabout way of getting there.
“Mother…”
----------------------------------------
Emma
“Mother…” I heard Rila finally mumbling out after a solid five minutes of nonstop CPR.
“H-hey.” I managed out under a hushed breath, not so much out of breath from the CPR like most people would be without the assistance of power armor, but because my unpowered exo-skel from the waist down made this a legday workout and a half.
“Save the mom stuff for when you get home. Welcome back to the world of the living, Rila.”
The girl began coughing out weakly, straining her head this way and that, before landing her gaze right back on me. “Am… Are we… Oh Emma Booker, are we dead?”
“No, no. We’re both unfortunately still very much alive and kicking.” I managed out with a cheeky, confident smile under my helmet, which seemed to carry through despite the lack of a visible face.
It was then, and just then, that another heart-stopping ROAR interrupted the otherwise peaceful scene. As what was once the warehouse floor, buried under a solid three feet of rubble, suddenly gave way, leading to what I could only describe as an underground section of the warehouse that glowed a brilliant orange and crimson like the depths of hell itself.
“Are you certain we aren’t dead, Emma Booker?” The trade apprentice once more spoke warily, and with a significant amount of doubt coloring her otherwise panicked voice.
“Fuck it, I don’t even know now myself, Rila.”
The world around us started to fall apart at the seams, because instead of just the charred out and broken remains of a brick and mortar structure, the ground had seemingly just given way to what looked to be a wide cavernous basement once hidden in plain sight. There were now dozens, if not hundreds of living, breathing, creatures that had begun squirming and crawling out of the now-exposed basement of the warehouse. Creatures which were most notably absent from my initial sensor sweep, for reasons that were now becoming very obvious to me.
Creatures which ranged from what looked to be small, raccoon-like animals with glowing forepaws that scurried haphazardly out of the basement in literal droves, to larger, more imposing looking beasts that began filling the entire space with a series of actual, genuine real roars this time around.
It looked as if a fucking magical zoo had been unleashed upon this small corner of the town, and it was clear that the explosion had acted as the catalyst for this breakout.
It was about the same time that I finally saw movement from underneath another pile of rubble, as a male humanoid form emerged, his black-robe in tatters, revealing what looked to be an actual piece of platemail armor that had miraculously formed where his shirt and tunic should have been.
He was now suddenly dressed for the occasion, as if he’d anticipated this from the very beginning.
A certain monotone voice belonging to a familiar black-robed professor began echoing throughout the utterly demolished space, as the elf began looking around desperately for someone else.
“Lartia. Lartia can you hear me?” The man spoke with visible strain, coughing in between every few words as seconds passed with no response given. Nothing, but the cacophony of animal roars and the crunching of rubble underneath.
“As Ap Talor” I heard the man speak in the same otherworldly cadence the apprentice had used during the null fight, though it was clear the older elf had far, far more confidence when saying it. Though bruised, battered, and bloodied, Mal’tory began raising his hand towards a small gaggle of what looked to be a pack of wolf-like creatures, before hitting them with a solid blast of green and gray energy.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
They suddenly disappeared into nothingness, as he continued fumbling around the wreckage, moving about with a hobbled limp, his eyes clearly scanning for something, as he stopped at a particularly raised pile of rubble that hadn’t yet sunken into the depths of the warehouse, and began levitating the bricks all at once.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
It was there that the remains of the once fancifully decorated carriage was unearthed, crushed and reduced to a pile of colorful splinters, along with what seemed to be its owner.
“Lartia… you fool.” I heard Mal’tory utter under his breath, as he began walking through the increasingly hectic swarm of magical creatures that seemed poised to attack. Their claws, fangs, and whatever else enchanted implements all aimed towards the black-robed elf.
One after another, they struck, leaping, clawing, grasping, their mouths open, their claws unsheathed, only to be met with the same fate of those packs of wolf-like creatures from earlier.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
ALE-
“Tone it down, EVI.” I managed out, prompting the EVI to instead relegate the litany of mana radiation warnings into a neat list that began piling one atop of another as Mal’tory continued to bathe the area in spell after spell.
But as soon as it looked as if the warehouse had been cleared, as soon as it looked like the unexpected threats had died down, more emerged from the exposed basement. This time, they were orders of magnitude larger than Mal’tory, or even the carriage.
It was around the same time that I began hearing yet another series of far-off sounds, a series of what sounded to be town-bells, that rang sequentially, one after another.
DING-DONG
DING-DONG
DING-DONG
They were more than likely the town’s version of an alarm or an air raid siren or something.
This prompted the black-robed professor to double down, and double down hard as he turned towards these larger, far more imposing creatures that looked like something straight out of a particularly twisted DM’s homebrew creature-feature list.
From large chimeric beasts that should not have existed, to monstrous hulking amalgamations of what looked to be souped up versions of magical beasts I’d recognized from my hours of Castles and Wryverns lore-dives, the black-robed wizard begun clearing up shop hard.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 750% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
Throughout all of this however, I continued paying close attention to the trade apprentice’s condition. Trying my best to see if there was anything else I could do. “Is there anywhere else you’re hurting?” I asked, keeping one eye peeled for any stray magical beast that might’ve escaped Mal’tory’s containment efforts.
“Everywhere…” Rila managed out weakly, her eyes struggling to keep focus, her attention waxing in and out as I had to squeeze her hand several times to prevent her from dozing off.
“Hey, hey. Listen to me. You’re doing fine. You’re doing good alright? You hear that?” I paused for effect, allowing the ringing sounds of the town’s bells to filter down to the trade apprentice. “Help’s on the way. I’ll keep you alive in the meantime okay? So stay with me. You’re doing great, Rila.”
“Mmmn…” The elf returned back fitfully.
“Just focus on me, nothing else.” I continued, working through my own pain and exhaustion as yet another unexpected turn of events reared its ugly head.
Literally this time around.
ROOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!
A deafening, 140 decibel noise jolted Rila, and to a lesser extent me, to attention. From the hellish opening in the floor of the warehouse, came a rippling shimmer that criss-crossed the air, blasting out sparked wisps and flares of magic that carried that otherworldly vorpal sound. Rearing ominously from the ruinous crater came the face of a creature whose partially open maw was enough to swallow both of us whole.
It was unmistakably, and undeniably-
“A… an… an amethyst dragon…” Rila muttered out, her eyes narrowing into pinpricks, and her hand clenching deeper and deeper into my gloved ones. “H-how… why is it here-”
Claws covered in a series of interlacing opaque scales clung to the edges of the former ground floor of the warehouse. A body lined with cracks, dents, and pits, interspersed with misshapen crystalloid scales, began raising itself up and out of the depths of the basement. Its transparent lavender wings, cracked, and shattered at the edges, began flapping wildly about, generating these otherworldly windchime effects that resonated throughout the entire space.
The next few seconds saw its attention shifting squarely on us, and in that time I swore I could see it narrowing its lustrous gemstone-like eyes at me, before turning its full attention to the likes of Mal’tory who stood there with both hands confidently poised for a protracted fight.
ROOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!
A fight that never came.
THUD!
As the bulk of the crystalloid dragon’s tail had slammed against the vastly smaller elf hard, hard enough that the magically-manifested armor he wore actually cracked open with a resounding, metallic clang.
This was followed by a series of metallic skids as the man was thrown back onto the streets, before finally crashing into the small canal with a resounding splash!
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 775% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
The developments didn’t stop there, as portal after portal was opened, leading to a set of familiar robes and faces emerging onto the scene much too late to save Mal’tory, but just in time to deal with the dragon.
Though it was clear from the faces of Vanavan, Belnor, Chiska and co, that there was a solid disconnect in what they’d expected when they’d teleported here onto the scene.
“By the Gods…” Vanavan spoke under a hushed breath, as Chiska’s cat-like eyes narrowed down on both me and the trade apprentice, whilst the two other professors were preoccupied with the dragon.
“Vanavan! I found Emma Booker!” Chiska yelled out loudly, prompting the blue-robed to hop on over towards me before even thinking of dealing with the dragon.
In fact, that only left Belnor who was desperately trying to contain the large beast with a series of magical chains.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 950% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
All of which were broken before they even had the time to gain any purchase.
“Emma Booker!” Vanavan yelled out loudly, turning towards me and me alone, choosing to ignore the injured trade apprentice beside me.
“It’s no longer safe to be here, I shall teleport you back to the dorms. All will be-”
“NO!” I yelled out, holding fast to the trade apprentice all the while. “You owe me an explanation, you owe me a lot more than that even. You… you made a promise when I arrived that-”
“Emma, I’m sorry.” The blue robe spoke with what I could best describe was a weak, pathetic, yet strangely genuine tone of voice. “I’m so incredibly sorry. Just…”
ROOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!
“It is no longer safe here. Please, we need to-”
PHWEEEE! PHWEEEE!
I heard the sounds of whistles approaching closer and closer from the distance, followed by the clanking of armor and the yelling of what I could only imagine was the town guard and whatever gaggle of adventurers were gathered up.
“There will be no further discussion, you must go, now-”
“Take care of her, then.” I pointed to Rila. “You owe me that much.” I spoke emphatically, making sure there was no room for negotiation, turning towards Chiska for good measure.
“We will.” The felinor replied with an affirmative nod. “You have my word, for what that’s worth, Emma Booker.” She took a moment to turn towards Vanavan, narrowing her eyes at him, before gesturing for me to get up.
“Until we meet again, Rila. Stay safe.” I spoke as I suddenly felt the world around me shifting and bending, that same darkness from prior to the forests overtaking me, before finally and without warning…
I found my surroundings abruptly shifted.
Looking around frantically, my EVI panicking once more, I saw that I was placed right back where I started just a day ago.
In front of a familiar set of ornately crafted wooden doors, in a long, cobblestone corridor.
The noises and chaos, the blood and sweat, all of it… was just gone.
I looked down at my armor, to see that the more obvious signs of battle were gone, save for some inexplicable scrapes and patches of dirt.
Vanavan was clearly covering all of his bases. Making sure that the obvious piece of evidence wasn’t with me when I was shunted back unceremoniously to this microcosm detached from the rest of the world.
Yet as I’d quickly see, the Academy clearly wasn’t as detached from the outside world as I’d initially thought. As I saw a group of ten, twenty, then nearly forty or so students gathering near one of the windows of the student’s common lounge I’d only walked past before.
The common lounge on the top floor of this tower provided a similar view to my own dorm, a view of the town and the lake it bordered.
As I hobbled my way over, my legs still straining against the weight of the armor, it was clear enough what everyone was staring at.
As all of their attention was turned towards the town…
And the smoke billowing from one of its districts.
A thick, black, plume of devastation, set against the backdrop of idyllic peace that was the Nexus.