Pillars of the Kingdom

Its not worth the aches and pains to just snap into the White-Out, Branden mused to himself as he leapt backwards and then veered to the right. The woman, to her credit, simply did not relinquish pursuit of him, so he was forced to make the advance while on the run. He took each step of the four-motion series as quickly as evading her by retreating, completely outpacing her by the third step and leaving her flabbergasted by the fourth.

He’d turned into nothing more than a series of blurs moving around her at lightning speeds, and before she knew it she was knocked unconscious by a single blow to the back of her head. With all the velocity behind it, Branden had to slow down quite dramatically not to accidentallly kill her, but in the end she was left face-first on the ground.

Good, he decided, Now its time to get rid of the rest of them. He moved from soldier to soldier, delivering painful blows to each one which left them unconscious. A few managed to get shots off at where they thought he was, but not one of them came close and the bolts of red light flew at random without hitting a target. Not a single one of the regular soldiers or lieutenants died, a feat Branden was quite pleased with.
*****
Spear against spear and all was well, Jacin figured, At least, if this guy isn’t my grade. I’m just a damn Aqui, why am I doing this? he asked himself the question again and again as he took up his most defensive of stances, spear’s tip touching the ground as he looked forward to what he expected would be a thorough trashing.

“Want some help?” He heard the Relic’s ‘voice’ ask into the back of his mind. He was given the vision of spells set by the Relic against the Solascian and was quite highly tempted to accept the offer. Of course, a price hadn’t been listed yet...And Jacin had one other thing that would prohibit his purchasing aid. He had faith in those who gave him orders.

“I’m good,” he whispered to the artifact just as his enemy took a quick step forward and thrust his spear at Jacin’s chest. The blow was little more than a flash of light and it took all Jacin had to evade it. Another came for the same exact place and Jacin ducked to avoid it, a glancing blow cutting into his armor and flesh around his shoulder. He grimaced and ignored it, having no real option but to parry a third incoming strike with the center of his spear.

If this keeps up, I’m toast, he pondered for a moment, a fourth and fifth blow coming in quick succession as first the blade and then the butt of his rival’s spear flew towards him. He evaded them, focusing on not where the spear was but where it was going. Suddenly, as if his eyes opened, he could almost read a pattern.

No...No, it wasn’t a pattern so much as an ability to predict the next move based on the previous. For a moment he felt it could be that power of prophecy which the ghost of his ancestor had spoken of, but he quickly realized the truth that it was simply because of two factors. First, the spear was actually moving slower to his natural five senses, and the second was derived from his training - When a weapon is in a certain position, it can only be moved in certain ways.

The next attack came and Jacin ducked it with room to spare, planting the tip of his spear to the ground and using it to carry his momentum. The enemy’s thrust brought him within range and he delivered a ferocious kick with one leg to the man’s chest. He used his strength to pole-vault, slamming both feet into the Solascian’s face. Then he felt his center of balance level off and looked upward to the ground - He was perfectly vertical, upside down and resting on his spear.

Whoa, he allowed himself the time to think. He turned quickly around so he faced his enemy and flexed his arms just enough to press himself upward. He spun the haft of his spear with his hands as he did so, performing a graceful backflip, allowing one of the four blades of his spear to land on the foe’s shoulder. He used all of his might to pull the blade of the spear downward, cleaving through the invader’s armor and flesh and cleanly removing his arm. Jacin managed to land on his feet and quickly brought the spear to his side.

The Solascian screamed and, with a swift kick from the young spearman, fell unconscious. With this battle over and done with, the few conscious men left swiftly carried their wounded and dead and put them on the flying vessel. Nobody stopped them, and the ship took off towards the east. It flew over the ocean and quickly disappeared over the waves of the ocean, heading toward the horizon.

*****
“Gotcha patched up and ready to go,” Clarice remarked to the spearman. He quickly re-donned his armor and nodded to the woman just once. She smiled back and the two split up, moving to their respective mounts.

“That was painless, really,” Kathy said of the Solascian invasion. She smiled to Clarice, who looked at her with confusion in her eyes for a moment.

“We just killed a pair of your countrymen and probably crippled one, not to mention beat the stuffing out of a few infantry. Oh,” she added as an afterthought, “And five pilots are probably dead as well. Are you sure about this?”

The question was not unexpected or unprepared for. Kathy shook her head and gave Clarice a rueful smile which ached of something higher, perhaps, than humanity itself.

“No,” she confessed. “I do not enjoy having to kill people, especially because I know many Solascians are good people who are just trapped in this fucked up system. We have to fight them because they will destroy us if we don’t. The things they’re tampering with are maddeningly insane, and the fact of the matter is I cannot begin to bear the thought of just one of these machines being around.”

“I hear that,” Clarice seconded as she gave her lover a soft kiss to the lips. “Anyhow, their ship went east so I don’t suspect we’re too far from their base. The problem is crossing the ocean and that they torched the boats.” The town’s small harbor had been completely decimated, and not a scrap of ship remained.

“Wrong,” Kathy corrected. Clarice looked quite startled at this revelation. “Solasce itself is to the east, it’s a small island. We head to the plane that crash landed and hope that the pilot lived.” She paused at this, then shrugged her shoulders idly. “Its part humanitarian, but part tactical - He’ll lead us to their on-continent base, if they have one.”

The party accepted Kathy’s rationale and decided the two lovebirds should accompany Serge to the crashed jet to do some reconnaissance. The three did not have to walk terribly far, for the plane had crash landed just a few hundred yards from the battle site. They came upon it after following a short trail of dug-up soil, observing quickly that it had popped open a parachute to slow its uncontrollable descent.

The three approached it, Clarice with her eyes closed and Serge with his blade out. Clarice shortly opened her eyes and looked upward to the elder and her lover. “One man, breathing normally and apparently quite healthy. If he knows we’re coming he’s a trained soldier, alright.”

Serge nodded his head in that sagely style and smiled to her. “Good,” he said without a care in the world, “then he’ll understand the value of a good day’s mercy.” Serge’s words were lighthearted compared to the implications they carried - It had been proven quite plainly that Solasce’s idea of an elite swordsman was not to be compared favorably with an Hora.

“You know,” came the voice of the one behind the wrecked vehicle, “I sense three spiritual presences - Only one of which is even slightly damn familiar.” The voice echoing out from behind the wrecked machine was jovial and relaxed. Clarice tapped her sword belt just once - A signal to Serge that a sword was drawn or a weapon was readied. He nodded and readied himself just the slightest. “Old man Lenkmen, how long has it been? Five years? Ten?”

The voice said nothing more, leaving Serge to advance on his own. So this is a personal vendetta? And someone that long ago...Who the hellfires could it be? After the Gammin war, he’d seen very little action except on the New Presian front; and the religious fanatics he may have earned the hatred of in the past would never admit to being able to sense his aura. He decided to take the most forward approach and hope for the best.

“And just who the hell are you?” Serge asked back in a too-polite tone which screamed of cat and mouse games.

“You know, I could let’cha taste my blade and find out, but you’d recognize that almost as fast as you’d just recognize my armor, you old coot!” The stranger was too damn friendly, despite giving away hints of who he might be - A very unique sword technique paired with very unique armor, traits surprisingly not rare enough to cause any one image to leap to his mind. Serge decided to play his hand and scan the aura of the newcomer, stepping over toward the side of the plane the rival was on and letting recognition slam him on the back of the head. Years of training were forgotten and he dropped his sword.

“You’re...” Serge said, unable to place the face and name together at the same time as speak. He shook his head disbelievingly. “What the hell are you doing down here?” He managed to splutter out.

The figure stepped out into view and waved to the two women; His white armor was matched by a red cape clearly of royal craftsmanship. His white hair was combed down around his head and would have hung down around his shoulders if it could ever stay there, for many strands of it were nearly vertical from his scalp! He had crisp, blue eyes that reflected light with an uncanny strength, and his aura was most definitely that of a Hora class warrior, comparable to someone like Branden or Iona.

“That’d be me alright, Papa Serge!” The stranger seemed damn near overjoyed as he quickly sheathed the expensive looking sword he’d been carrying and embraced Serge in a tight hug. The old knight returned it as best their armor would allow, and after a long embrace (during which Clarice and Kathy simply stared at one another blankly), Scarred Peace bent to pick his sword up and sheath it.

“So I take it you two know each other and don’t, thankfully, plan to fight?” Kathy remarked with the same stunned look on her face. In her mind this was the closest she’d ever come to watching two men doing what she and Clarice did almost nightly, and she wasn’t completely certain that she enjoyed it. She could only imagine what Clarice might be thinking.

“I’m surprised you guys don’t know me from reputation or decorum,” the stranger said with a grin angled toward Serge. “Then again, they’re pretty young so they might not all remember the big mess caused when I up and decided I’d had enough of the kingdom. M’Name’s Kendrick “White Prince” Tevalain, and I’m at the service of you lovely ladies.”

The mental blow struck Clarice and Kathy clear through to the gut, and Serge’s previous surprise was suddenly and completely validated - It was around ten years ago that this man had simply vanished. The little that escaped into the public ear was that Kendrick had done exactly as Aubrey Castrell had done by abdicating any and all titles in favor of a life of vagrancy. Unlike Aubrey, there was never a question of talent involved in Kendrick’s resignation. Kendrick was too damn good, easily one of the most gifted warriors in the entire Kingdom and certainly doing a fine job of living up to his namesake.

Kendrick was named after Kendrick Castrell, the legendary Swordpriest who had stopped the Presian advance both at the Battle of Agincourt and the Battle of Villanova. Both even wore an extraordinary amount of white and shared similar names, Prince Castrell having been referred to as “White Paladin.” This subtle parody on what Presians (to this day) called Swordpriests, Dark Paladins, had terrified the enemy ranks. White Prince was no slouch with a blade and was no less a brilliant leader than his father.

“So why are you here to be at the service of these beauties?” Serge queried, poking Kendrick firmly in the rib and remaining blissfully unaware that his words drew the ladies in question back to the discussion. “After all, I’m sure its not just chance that you’d plunder into Emor’s biggest and dirtiest secret since you and Aubrey vanished around the same age.”

“Yeah,” Kendrick sighed and shook his head, going so far as to spit on the ground when Aubrey’s name was mentioned, “And don’t think I don’t know what that fuck Aubrey is up to. I don’t have a damn clue who he’s found to fill my shoes,” Kendrick said with a good deal of frustration, “But I draw the line at revolution. I don’t much like the kingdom’s rules either, as evidenced quite plainly by my leaving everything to you guys, but blood on the hands of good men is just as staining as blood on the hands of a rat bastard like Aubrey. I’ll change things my way, and to hell with the creep.”

“Then you know?” Clarice asked in a subdued voice. She closed her eyes to listen to the subtle beat of Kendrick’s heart, ascertaining wether or not he lied - and it appeared he told the truth, though his heartbeat was anything but normal while agitated. “That Aubrey and them tried to kill your father?”

“You’re damn right I know, or I’d never have taken the old man up on his offer. For better or worse,” Kendrick said with a smile which clearly patted him on the back, “I’m with you guys.”

“Here’s your answer to our other question,” Kathy said as she pointed to the footsteps in the light sand, footsteps which headed directly southward. “We go to the south tomorrow, and we finish these little bastards off.”

“And just what bastards do you refer to, my pretty one who I can assume is dating this woman, who I can further assume by her having closed her eyes and strained to listen is the one known as Blind Justice, the famed Clarice Saffron?” If one imagines Kendrick’s words to be confusing, it was because he was scratching his head trying to figure out exactly what foe the party was going up against.

“Solasce,” Clarice managed to say through pink cheeks and a haze of surprise. Kendrick began to shake his head, ready to deny from the hip that the country even existed, but Clarice smiled and looked toward her feet. “It’s real. Listen, let’s go back to camp. You need to meet the crew, after all, and tomorrow we have a lot of work to do.”

Chapter Twenty Nine

The camp had been set up west of the town’s ruins; Solascian officials might well have reclaimed their crashed plane and camping in the village itself seemed almost sacrilegious. Camping to the direct north of the town was considered, but the sparse woodlands in the west provided a small campfire and a hint of atmosphere which the plains simply lacked.

Kendrick joining the party had fostered this particular late night meeting, one which the two figures standing far outside of the camp had no choice but to have. Branden was staring at the White Prince with a completely fascinated look in his eyes, and knew from experience that Kendrick had only one thing on his mind. Regardless, once the two were far enough from prying eyes he’d have to act laid back and pretend to be surprised.

“So,” Branden said toward his old friend, “I’m glad to see you again. It’s been a damn long time if I do say so myself.”

Kendrick said very little, his blue eyes matching Frost’s for just a moment before a smile formed on his lips and he nodded. “You know, I’ve missed you most of all, I think. Or at least, missed the comfort you brought.” The statement was plain enough - But the truth in the words was easily noticed.

“Ken, before you even start, you and I are two totally different people and –”

Kendrick’s hand had moved up to Branden’s cheek quickly and was busy massaging the smooth-shaven flesh. “Listen, Bran, it doesn’t matter. I missed you a lot, and I’ve thought about our mistakes. You don’t have anyone here or at home, and I know how you feel.” Indeed, the full weight of this issue had already slammed down on their backs.

His blue eyes quickly scanned the area, looking for any possible observers at the same time as his spiritual senses stretched out to detect any interlopers. Serge was in a bed roll, Iona was apparently dreaming of a marble, Jacin was up on guard duty and Charles was quite plainly dreaming of naked women. Clarice and Kathy had fallen asleep practically on top of one another in a most suspicions way.

“I feel for you as a friend, I think,” Branden responded after much trepidation. “I care a lot about you but I’ve never done anything with another–” Kendrick’s fingertips moved over his lips to silence him.

“Branden, relax a little. I’m here and I care about you; likely more than any of these other people you journey with. The girls are hot and–”

“Don’t say you care about me more than Serge does. You don’t,” the tone was that stating an indisputable fact, not just an assessment of another person’s feelings. The two paused for a moment before Kendrick nodded just once.

“Alright, but in the way I intended it, Serge can’t care for you. You’re pretty and you’re smart, you’re strong and you’re a good person. How could I not want you?” It was clear Kendrick felt something that Branden was not in total favor of. “We were close before I left, we told each other everything.”

“Kendrick, I was only ever interested in you as a person, not you as a sex symbol. We’ve both had so many lovers, men and women alike, that sex isn’t even fun half the time!” Branden’s protest was strong and passionate, reflecting the past ten years he’d had to think on the subject they now discussed. “It’s your personality that could have won me over, but you decided it would be a great idea to leave.”

There was a sharp gust of wind, one which seemed to tell the tale of the two warriors in its gentle yet quick breeze. Neither said a word for quite a while, staring one another eye to eye. Despite their physical differences, those eyes were nearly the same - Blue and strong. The wind died down and Kendrick finally seemed to have found words.

“Yeah,” the prince responded with a soft sigh. His hand released Frost’s face and he looked away from the young warrior. “I left because I couldn’t stand the expectation. I’m skilled in mind and body, there’s no way that I couldn’t take the throne according to most of the people around the kingdom. Unfortunately that’s about the last damn thing I wanted, so I left. I did my share of good, but I left. I also refused our old friend Aubrey’s offer to join him in his pursuit, you know?”

Branden didn’t know what to say - After all, chances are Kendrick was asked to join before Jagger, and it appeared that Kendrick directly disapproved of the ideals Aubrey raised and turned against the Kingdom. Kendrick refused, while Branden had accepted. So much for them being on the same side of things.

“Well, Aubrey was always the wild one. I don’t want to kill him if we don’t have to,” Frost said truthfully, “I just hope he’s savable. He was our brother, you know?” This one thing still hung over his head - Aubrey, Rayne, Kendrick and Branden had lived under Serge Lenkmen’s roof as much as they had under their own. Branden was practically raised by the old knight, so it was natural to want to avoid a fight with a man he felt to be a family member.

“This is true. But you, Branden, I want you...Don’t try to change the subject and just answer me.” Kendrick sounded forceful now, needing and brutal in his approach. “Do you want me?”

Branden thought for a moment, but that was all he needed. He shook his head. “No, not like this. Not sexual, not yet, not when you’ve just come back and I hardly know you. You’re beautiful, don’t get me wrong,” he said as Kendrick’s face fell to both sadness and anger, “But I don’t just jump into a guy’s bed because he’s cute.”

Kendrick was angry more than sad, because after a soft growl he turned and stomped off into the main camp, doing the best he could to contain his anger at this rejection. He’d been mature enough not to fire back with insults, but Branden could only imagine the extent of self-control that took.

“That was great,” Branden said to himself. His fist struck a nearby tree gently, more out of resentment then anything else. He looked down to the floor as another gentle breeze blew his hair to the side. He raked his fingertips through it, returning the blue locks to a part down the middle. The sound of leaves blowing in the wind grew strong for just a moment.

“I hesitated to say anything, but I think–” That was the only phrase she got out. Branden’s blade had been drawn and placed clean against Iona’s throat as moved into the clearing. He hadn’t drawn blood yet, but she knew that with little more than a flick of his wrist she could lose her powers of speech for the rest of her days - And count herself lucky to have any more.

“What the fuck are you thinking?” he grumbled in a voice he forced to calmness. His privacy, something he cherished almost as much as the idea of being alive, had just been violated in a brutal way.

She took a slow breath, easing herself away from the blue saber against her flesh. “I just wanted to talk, Branden. I was looking to speak to you and I found you two. I sensed you gauging my aura but I blocked you and–” Once again, she did not get many words out before Branden interrupted her.

“So you know I wanted this to be between him and me, that’s it.” His voice was a cold anger comparable to his namesake. He was not growling as some did when agitated, he was completely calm on the outside yet any fool could sense that his aura was flaring with rage. “So why interfere?”

“I just wanted to say I understand your feelings,” Iona shot back in as calm a voice as ever. She added a hint of emotion, one radiating care and concern. “I’m just concerned...” She let her voice trail off, expecting to hear a loud shout or similarly startling event cut her off. Instead, Branden held his tongue to consider her words.

“You’re a fucking mystery as much as your friend Lilith was. She knew you, just like you somehow knew that...That monster, Valin!” Branden’s calm had shifted from an easy one; a blind man could see the water stirring under the surface was terrifyingly violent. “Who the fuck are you, Iona? I trust you not to be another Saint, but you have some past with those sons of bitches and I want to know right now what it has to do with your traveling with us.”

As if nature enjoyed a good drama, another breeze blew by and sent both Hora’s hair into a mess. Branden instinctively straightened his yet noticed the woman chose to leave her hair in that windswept look. He couldn’t help himself - He noticed she was attractive, her eyes glinting in the moonlight and her lips looking quite....Kissable, was the only word he could think of. He was disarmed by this look for just a moment.

“I’ve faced Valin and his Apostles before. I took this sword from him because he thought he could use me to unsheathe it. Fact is, nobody else can – It’s sealed except to me, though I don’t have a damn clue why.” The sincerity in her voice was reflected by her shoulders rising and falling in a clueless shrug. “As to who I am, you make that decision. Me telling you what I think would be a waste, I think, because you are smart enough to decide that on your own.”

Damn, since when did beautiful women use such infallible logic, Branden thought to himself, a corollary suddenly added to that earlier question. Furthermore, since when was she an object I called beautiful? He fought those thoughts out of his mind and focused on the very reason he was agitated. “Still, you come in here and intrude into our lives, into my life...What the hell is in it for you?”

Was it his imagination, or did he see those golden eyes turn away for a moment. He heard a loud sigh escape her lips. “I won’t beat around any bushes,” she replied as a smile emerged on her lips. “You’re an appealing figure.”

This caught him completely off guard, leaving him a proverbial wreck for just a moment. He shook his head and looked back at her for a moment with his head cocked to the side. “Excuse me, I must have gotten some wind in my ears.” As there was no breeze, she simply chuckled to herself.

“I said you are appealing. I didn’t say I’m going to strip you naked and ride you all night long,” she said with a playful smile. “I actually came to speak to you about this, but was worried that Kendrick might...” She paused, shook her head and continued. “But here you are, safe and sound and all good.”

He didn’t ask what was meant by ‘all good,’ he simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, Iona, I’m a little surprised right now. Mind if I have some time to just, you know, chill?” Such a subtle pun on his name was hard to miss, and she actually laughed as a response.

“Of course, Branden. Take care,” she finished as she walked back toward the camp, leaving Branden to kick a stone into a tree in bewilderment at this strange new turn his life had taken.

*****
The next two days of journeying were completed without any convoluted events at all. Normal chit-chatting became that of a pre-battle ritual, small talk masking the strong nerves running through every member of the party. Even Kathy and Clarice lost their relaxed exterior as the pilot’s tracks led them south.

“So why did Coaslund not find this place?” Charles had asked in an attempt at humor which sounded more like his whining-as-usual. Unlike the usual complaints the young knight made, this one had a solid basis.

“Good question,” Kathy remarked as she looked downward in an attempt to remember. “Well, we don’t have much air power to spot a ruined town, and this town was a southernmost post so it’s probable that a military base would escape detection easily.” The answer was plausible, considering how far south the group actually was. Coaslund’s official border was a few days up north, and truth be told this territory was more owned by nomads and wanderers than Emor. In fact, it made sense in a strange way for Kendrick to have been so nearby.

The party found itself facing a rather sudden terrain change a little after the first day - A number of tall hills, not quite mountains but formidable nonetheless had cropped up in their path. They climbed atop the first and every member of the party took a deep breath out of unadulterated shock from what they witnessed.

There were a few more hills set up in a pattern which surrounded what looked to be a crater. Ordinarily, a hole like this could mean anything - From a volcano’s explosion to the detonation of a powerful magical weapon to a ferocious battle site that had employed weapons which had leveled the unnamed trading post they’d departed from.

Instead of just burned up land there was a city below them. In too many ways, it was exactly the same as Yenohar - Tall buildings which touched the heavens and far too many narrow streets for your common pedestrian to enjoy life. Unlike its northern counterpart, this city was nothing less than a city of skeletal buildings with steel beams protruding from melted glass buildings. Once, this place might have been breathtaking - Now it was nothing.

“Brunai,” Shade offered as an attempt to break the silence. “One of Rhinegold’s major cities. I’d have figured it would be leveled by the weapons used against it - Then again, Cernai had valued conquest and the premise of taking a completely infertile land would cause them to use Earth-Crystal charges as opposed to fire ones.”

As Shade quickly summarized, Tero-Nuclear weapons involved the fusion of at least two large, powerful chunks of Crystal. If one wanted an inferno one could simply combine two Fire crystals; but for various operations, one could combine any number of different effects to achieve an appropriate response. Water and lightning combined often created a lot of static electricity, a sort which was virtually harmless to humans yet shut down virtually all machinery. Earth and fire in the proper amounts would create a large fireball with an after-effect that it created grass and sometimes trees after incinerating virtually everything that moved. Shade proposed that this was what caused this particular series of ruins to spring up, and judging from the local energy fields he was probably right.

“If there were survivors,” Shade finalized, “they probably left this ruined place out of fear of further attacks.”

The party moved into the city and looked through the rubble - There were vehicles quite similar to those designed in Coaslund and Yenohar, there were a number of advertisement posters still intact; from attempts to hook children on drugs with friendly-looking cartoons to information about the newest soda brand.

The streets of the city were wide enough for a few lanes of car traffic and a number of roads had seemingly fallen to the ground from above. Remnants of these once-successful skyways remained as large stone columns in the center of avenues. Some of the buildings had been designed with these highways in mind, large steel beams forming what might once have been a support grid in the sky above them.

“This is amazing,” Kendrick remarked in a hushed voice. As they moved through this testament to a glorious nation long dead, the very idea of the swath of destruction the Conflagration must have caused began to enter their head. The Kingdom of Emor was tiny compared to a nation which could support cities such as these; Rhinegold and Cernai might not have had Arcanics or Horas, but their military force was still overwhelming. “These AI Constructs, the harbingers of this technological disaster, could never have survived the impact of weapons which caused this. Could they?” Kendrick Tevalain, who loved a good fight more than almost anyone, actually sounded intimidated.

“I would not be surprised if at least one of them is still operational,” Shade responded in the most calm voice he could muster. Even the legendary Man who Flew was concerned over the brute force that Cernai had unleashed upon the world.

“If they did,” Clarice observed as she and Kathy smiled at a rather interesting advertisement featuring two women hugging one another; apparently one society in history had accepted their particular type of union, as both were wearing ornate dresses similar to those worn in Coaslundian weddings. “They are definitely too powerful to face one on one.”

“At most,” Jacin observed in a docile voice. He wasn’t one for speaking up, but if he had something to say... “At most, it could only be one on one because only ten were made, right? If only four went renegade, that means we have about two to one odds.”

Believe it or not, Charles had to look around and point at everyone to figure this out. Shade and Cassandra, Iona and Branden, himself and Jacin, Clarice and Kathy, with Kendrick to throw in wherever help was needed (likely for his particular pairing.)

As they entered what once must have been a community square and was now relegated to a less crowded rubble heap, a chorus of shouts rose up at the same time as a substantial magical force. Shade and Cassandra looked toward one another, exchanging a glance and little more before giving a loud sigh.

“Summoners,” Shade said lazily. As predicted, the magical sensations spiked then suddenly vanished as around sixty strange creatures stood before them. They reminded Jacin of large pit bulls with reptile heads and scaly bodies; similar to Raptors yet shorter and stockier, designed more for taking damage than strategy.

“Oh great,” Charles muttered as he drew his sword. Jacin readied his spear and Clarice took a slow breath to prepare for battle. Only one of the party actively volunteered to handle the situation.

“I need a little stress relief,” Kendrick said as he bowed his head to the rest of the group and stepped forward, drawing his sword. “Branden, wanna see a Swordpriest technique I picked up?” It was said in a taunting way, the sort which a competitive young man would say to another to challenge him.

The crew decided to back off and retreated from the square, allowing Kendrick to have his way. The prince did nothing more complicated then to draw his sword and raise it above his head. A grin was on his lips and he ran the fingertips on his free hand through his hair. The short sword was thin enough to be used with one arm, and Kendrick made a broad stroke through the air in a flash.

For just an instant the impression of incredible power shot through Jacin’s bones, and where once there were sixty foes there were now one hundred and twenty halves, each with a perfectly clean cut through them. The blow had been so powerful that it impacted on the buildings nearby, eliciting a loud sound like a lightning bolt striking as it etched a crescent-shaped line into every last skyscraper.

“Damn!” Charles shouted as he witnessed the horror of the scene. In one man there was such incredible power? What truly unnerved him was that Branden, Serge and Iona all appeared rather unsurprised. They may have been impressed, but even Clarice seemed to have expected this power - Why were he and Jacin the only ones staring in shock?

Another series of loud shouts, most sounding surprised and none sounding recognizable, came from the buildings around them. Finally, Shade held his hand up and looked toward the towers with his violet eyes filled with...Sadness?

“Oi! Na mus! Me Nambrax eso ‘Black Legend.’” Shade said in their language. They paused, and he added for effect, “Stand down. You aren’t hearing things, this is an Imperial Order from “Black Legend” myself.” He glanced toward the group. Even Cassandra seemed off balance when hearing his Hora name; the party was completely unaware that he had one!

As if called, a number of men in military garb, each with a black medal over the heart of their uniform, stepped out and dropped to their knees before Shade. The assumed leader of these men rose to his feet first yet bowed as he spoke. “Sir, what are your orders?” The man had almost no trace of an accent in his Emorian.

“Well, first of all stand up; as you might have guessed, I’ve defected from Solasce.” This statement drew gasps of surprise and quite a few angry looks. The leader of these men was unlike the rest in that he appeared calm, as if this was just another discussion.

“I understand. I, too, shall defect from Solasce to the Kingdom of Emor. If Black Legend feels it is appropriate, I shall do whatever is asked of me,” the officer said with a smile. His men slowly began to rise to their feet, each acclimating to this new situation in their own way. “May I ask why you are defecting?”

Shade thought about things for a moment before replying. “Arcanics, Solasce intends to awaken the very causes of the destruction you see around you. My men are going to stop this--”

“Sir!” The officer interrupted. “I should inform you that we are aware of much of these orders, though we did not realize the Artificial Ones were the cause of this...This ruin. Solasce has also decided on Project Annex, and it is going to take place in three days. The Artificials have already been discovered and are being re-awakened.”

This news was devastating, yet one obvious point of confusion remained. Shade looked visibly shaken, almost as if his horse had transformed into a voluptuous young woman before his eyes. He shook his head.

“Those fools are going to launch it? We have...Damn!” Shade clenched his fist tightly, Cassandra looking on with shock in her face. She looked to Kathy, who looked just as dumbfounded as Shade that this order was being filled out.

“Is that...That couldn’t be?” She said with trepidation. If she was hoping for Shade to recant or for the officer to say he was joking, she was out of luck. It was the fact that even Cassandra was nerve-wracked that made Jacin so frightened.

“It is,” the old Arcanic responded silently. “It’s a damn good thing I left contingency plans for King Tevalain. I just hope he can get the message before anything serious happens. Ladies and gentlemen,” Shade said in as commanding a voice as he could manage, “In three days or less Solasce’s Sword division will strike the northern borders of Yenohar.”

The revelation didn’t just astonish, it caused shouts of surprise from virtually every member of the party with the sole exceptions of Kathy (who already knew what Project Annex was) and Iona, who seemed merely worried. This was truly a day for unpleasant surprises.

“Well this is a giant cluster-fuck,” Charles said in a high pitched voice, attempting to negate the terror he clearly felt with levity. Not one person even cracked a smile.

Worse, the officer rubbed his forehead and kind of frowned. “Its, err, not that simple. Sword and Shield divisions will be there, leaving only Armor at home. They have decided to fully attack.”

This news did not bring relief. It was apparent to Jacin that Solsace had three divisions, and it was sending two. Charles had been right in that this was a disaster, despite what crude words he might have used. “I guess,” Jacin responded, “We need to hurry up and get these machines out of the picture?”

The entire assembly looked toward him with mixed emotions in his eyes. It seemed the Solascians were displeased with his speaking up, but Shade nodded his head once and they quickly accepted his statement.

“Yeah, we’d best. Let’s get going toward the site.”

Chapter Thirty

“Are you serious?!” Kathy exclaimed to Clarice as the party sat in a circle and discussed their options. “We aren’t going back? The city - No, possibly the whole kingdom could get exterminated! What are you going to do, pray things turn out alright?”

“Well,” Charles said with a smile on his lips, “There’s the possibility that a God will hear, considering how much Malach knew.” Very few people seemed to get the joke - That, or very few of them actually cared to laugh.

“Seriously,” Cassandra added, all eyes moving to her swiftly. The two Arcanics didn’t do much contributing lately, stepping back to allow the others to learn to stand on their own two feet. This was probably wise in the long run, but had the unfortunate side effect of letting Charles get too many words in edgewise and leaving the occasional idea undiscussed. “We can send them a message but in three days we couldn’t even reach Coaslund, let alone be of any help to Yenohar. They have to stand on their own.”

“Seriously,” Kathy countered in the same tone, “We all know they won’t last more than a few minutes, warned or not.” These words attracted a stray look from Shade, who just shook his head. Apparently with his leadership removed, the children had gotten some wild ideas.

“That’s not quite true,” Clarice countered her lover, “Seeing as you have been smuggling military information to them for years. I think, with as many Horas and Fechas as they can get combined with the technological armed forces of Yenohar and Coaslund, we could see a huge upset.”

“Considering each division being sent has two cruisers and three destroyers, there is little any one principality will be able to do to resist,” Shade responded in a calm tone. “Sword uses carriers, Shield uses direct fire. Carriers are dangerous but our fighters may hold a good chance of winning; direct fire is a bit more damaging, considering the weapon arrays they have with regard to sheer force.”

“We can’t just let them die!” Jacin interjected, shaking his head. “Then again, Shade is right; we couldn’t get a message to them in time unless we hijack some equipment. To top it off, what are we? An Aqui, an–”

“Here we go,” Charles said with irritation in his voice. He looked at his subordinate and sighed, matching Jacin’s irritated look with a sterling calm. “When will you learn it’s not about rank?”

“If it is,” Shade responded with a smile on his lips, “I have a proposal. More like a decision. Clarice Saffron has just attained the rank of Hora,” he said. Clarice expressed her shock in a mouse-like fashion, while the rest of the group looked at him stricken with surprise. “Jacin Lancir, you’re promoted to the rank of Media and Charles...” Shade seemed to debate this one as Jacin paled, then he shrugged. “Do you think you’re ready for a name?”

“Nah, not really,” Charles managed to respond. He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment, looking to the floor before frowning, “I wish I was, but I’m still not really as good as I should be.”

“Good, then you’re a Fecha,” Shade remarked as Charles looked up at him with...Irritation in his eyes? “That doubt that you’re ready is a sign that you’re growing up. Not that I think you should grow too fast, mind you, so I won’t help you concoct a name yet,” he added with a grin. “You guys have been through a damn lot and not anybody can take that away from you.”

The party grew silent, deciding to celebrate the circumstances of their field promotions by themselves. All they’d been through and they still weren’t finished...This fact was driven home by the sudden emergence of a light in the sky bearing down on them. The early evening irrevocably pierced by the new star-like beacon in the sky, the party got to their feet quickly and stared upwards.

“Oh hell,” Iona muttered as she stood up and drew her sword. She clenched her fist tightly, looking to Branden for a moment. “That thing is fucking huge.”

What she referred to was a large vessel hovering through the air. It was larger than the vessel which they had faced off against the other day; larger by almost double the mass. This sort of ship was called a Cutter, and looked like nothing more sophisticated then an apartment building on anti-gravity pads with a series of engines. Its make was much less sleek then the Solascian Lancer they had previously encountered, and this inspired Kathy to say...

“A cutter of a type that doesn’t belong to Solasce. In fact, it looks like a Yenoharan make. This is...Different.” She was bewildered at the sudden arrival of this new addition to their force - At least, she hoped it was an addition to their force. Muffled statements of agreement came from the rest of the group.

“You guys ‘re Emorian, eh?” shouted a voice over a speaker. When Iona waved back at the ship, it switched into reverse and found a clear landing zone before descending to the ground. Its hull struck the floor loudly yet controlled, and a hatch in the front opened to reveal a pilot.

The man was roughly 5'8 and a lithe 140 lbs. He wore nothing more medieval than a leather jacket which hung down to his feet. Brown hair covered his right eye but left his other, for the most part, unobscured. Unlike his sister, he’d spent enough time in sunny areas that he’d obtained a permanent tan; not quite as dark as someone from southern Coaslund, but definitely darker than most Emorians. The hilt of a sword was visible on his left hip, but a shotgun slung over his back showed where his true talent as a warrior lay. A Montoyan, they were called; gun-Horas...Ahh, but he did not have the spiritual force most Horas were associated with, and even Jacin could tell he had more spiritual power than the newcomer.

So what was this man’s strength? He waved and looked to the group. “Sorry I took so damn long, had to hit up Castrell City first; I’m Martin Derringer,” he said of himself, “and I’m your transport and your guide.” Clarice smiled while Kathy glowered, seeing what appeared to be a new rival in the mix.

“Can you send a message to Yenohs?” Jacin asked immediately. Branden looked from Martin to Jacin and smiled.