There was a skirmish in the next plaza, and Fiaria could clearly see her father among the soldiers that had established something of a foothold in the building. Fia’s father saw her rushing over and called out to his men to give her cover. Iris and Fia both collapsed when they made it to relative safety. Neither could barely breathe.
“FIA!” her father shouted as he took her in his arms. “WHAT IN THE LIGHT ARE YOU DOING HERE!? ARE YOU STUPID, GIRL? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” he shouted frantically. Fia simply replied with a feint and breaking, “I don’t know.” Her father motioned to some of his troops, and one brought over a small chest. The representative quickly dumped out the contents and shuffled through papers.
He made a stack and shoved the pages into a small satchel, putting it around Fia’s neck. He then noticed Iris’ attire. “A priestess?” he asked, now with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry my dear, but the devil beat you here,” he remarked sadly. Fia looked at her father with the wide eyes of a young girl, unable to process what was obviously about to happen.
“You can’t be serious,” Fia woefully uttered. “You and the family could come to Mera!” she pleaded. “They’re already gone, Fia,” her father replied, holding his daughter close. “I can at least provide one of my children with a secure escape. People must be warned about this.” He let go of Fia, and two soldiers herded the girls away. Fia’s father watched and smiled, fighting back any tears that might remain.
Fiaria was in a sort of shock--in a daze among the continuing commotion. Fia had a lost look about her as they turned a corner and out of sight. All she could manage was to raise her hand to say goodbye as her father waved back.
Iris had known Fia for a few years now, never seeing her friend so shattered and vulnerable. One of the troops escorting the girls back to Mera checked Iris over before they boarded a vehicle, remarking, “She seems good to go.” The priestess stayed close to Fia, who would soon be asleep with her head on the priestess’ lap. Iris beautifully hummed lullabies as she glanced through some of the documents they’d been given. One of the soldiers had to punch another soldier awake a few times during their ride.
It was a beautiful evening in Pomeu when Maymay was coming out of her temporary home, having slept a considerable number of hours. She wasn’t paying attention and bumped into an immovable, furry wall. She looked up to see the Ser’ja mastiff they had rescued from the mire, and she let out an excited shout. Sahja mistook this for a cry. He grabbed his sword and rushed for the door, then halted at the sight.
The Ser’ja laid down before the two as its large wings acted almost like a blanket. This mastiff was a dark orange with a white underbelly. He had thick black and red markings and ice-blue eyes. His dull red mane flowed in the gentle breeze, and his tail remained stationary.
“I never thought I’d get to experience one of these guys like this,” Sahja stated as he gently rubbed the beast. “There’s no way he’d just hang around here, right?” he added. Maymay shrugged, but she was too ecstatic to care. There was certainly something about this beast that was calming. Even Sahja lowered his shoulders in its presence.
It was only a couple of minutes before Maymay noticed two figures coming up the road on foot. One seemed to be supporting the other. Sahja stepped around to see at what Maymay was looking and almost instantly went dashing down the path. Fia and Iris looked like they’d been through hell and were as solemn as the grave.
Sahja took Fia in his arms while Maymay inspected Iris. They went inside Sahja’s home, not even closing the door behind them. The Ser’ja laid in front of the small house and seemed to observe the four humans inside. Iris was trying not to tremble, but she was too tired to fight against what had happened.
Maymay threw up a curtain to block any view to that portion of the home so that Iris had some privacy while she was cleaned up. Sahja was getting Fia comfortable, just before he grabbed a bottle of alcohol to dab some minor scrapes. Fiaria was quiet. Her face was dirty from dust and tears.
Sahja didn’t have to say anything. When he looked into Fia’s eyes, he was already thinking about next steps. Maymay came back and sat down with her back against the Ser’ja. “Things are bad, huh?” she sighed, looking at Sahja. The maverick nodded. “What happens now?” Maymay asked quietly. “I have no idea,” Sahja replied, having gotten Fia situated on the couch.
The maverick grabbed a couple rifles and his swords, heading for the door. “You’re leaving?” Maymay asked worriedly. “No, dummy. I’m just going outside, taking the night shift,” Sahja replied. “There’s no need for name calling,” Maymay uttered, folding her arms as Sahja walked by.
That night, across Mol’do, there was an exodus of imperial personnel who were recalled to Emi-Shet from more than half of the provinces. Cases similar to Y’bann were happening across the continent in a swift and merciless way, the epicenters of which were the major provincial cities. Curious enough, Emi-Shet currently bore no signs of plague befalling the rest of the land.
The three girls woke to the sounds of commotion outside. When they looked to see, they saw an obvious evacuation as a large farming truck drove by with roughly twenty familiar people aboard. The Ser’ja had remained close by but was closer to the road that led through that part of town. “It’s still here,” Sahja stated casually, as if the scene around him was normal.
Bazmari had stayed behind. His family was already on their way ahead. “Have my parents already gone?” Iris asked. Bazmari looked at Iris with an unfortunate expression. “From what we’ve found out, they were most likely picked up by the imperial command that’s involved with the maverick infrastructure,” he explained, “so, at least there’s a damn good chance that they’re safe and will stay safe.”
Iris pushed against Bazmari. “Why would they take them?” she demanded. “Your parents had a lot of interesting research,” Bazmari replied. “That’s really the best we could do. I’m sorry, Iris.” Iris just stepped back and begrudgingly regained her composure.
“Where’s the herd headed?” Sahja asked. “You ready for this one?” Bazmari replied. The group sighed and cursed. “From Geth to Oshe and on to Emi-Shet, their official route,” Bazmari stated. “Fuck,” Sahja scoffed. “I do not like that one bit.” “Not many people do,” replied Baz. “But it sounds like there literally is no other real choice. Places this far out have essentially been sentenced to death. The empire doesn’t want to devote its resources for such populations.”
“Are the convoys taking precautions?” Sahja inquired. “Aye,” Bazmari replied confidently. “Our people know how to protect themselves.” Sahja inhaled deeply and let out a heavy sigh. Bazmari chuckled as he decided to change the subject, smacking Sahja on the shoulder and pointing to the Ser’ja. “I saw that thing on your lawn this morning. Do you intend on getting a leash?” Maymay gave a confident smile. “His name’s Tidus,” she declared. If one paid close enough attention, you could see the beast’s ear twitch when she said that.
This trip meant that anyone in Pomeu was traveling straight across Mera to its western border with Geth, hundreds of miles away. Geth shares its northern border with the sea and consists of very unfavorable terrain. Geth is also home to an overall unfriendly population, with a special disdain for the Light’s works. The overall trek would be roughly 2,000 miles.
Any airships in any province not directly in imperial hands were usurped. Noncompliance would end in the craft being shot down. While vehicles were not necessarily rare for civilians, they were certainly not proportional. Fifty-nine percent of the overall migration across Mol’do would be on foot.
Some people decided it was worth braving the seas in search of an alternative, but that was generally considered suicide. Perhaps.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Nature Light
Xavus and Genri made a break for the ancient passages of the city when they had the chance, going off of the assumption that Genri had correctly translat
ed the runes Swae had drawn on their counter. Neither of them barely fits through the old and narrow corridors. “It would have been nice to know you could read angelic runes,” Xavus said accusingly. “How do you even know she’s an angel?”
Genri shrugged to Xavus’ first comment but defended the second. “When you’ve been around a while, you learn stuff,” Xavus grunted as he was stuck in between two columns. “You identified her immediately!” he shouted. “You can tell angels and demons by their eyes,” Genri explained casually as he hopped over a tombstone. “I’ve never heard the name Swae, though.”
As Genri chuckled and walked, a hand grabbed his long hair and yanked him to the ground. The troll groaned and looked up to see Swae sitting on another decayed tombstone. “Archangel,” Swae stated with a smirk. “You’re an archangel?” Xavus scoffed.
“Sheth’rel, the third-born,” she scoffed back. “I go by Swae.” “Third?” Genri uttered with awe. Swae chuckled and conjured a long pipe, puffing as she went on. “Two older brothers and one of them is the devil himself. Maybe that does say something about me. Hahahahaha! It’s funny, some of the things you never really think about until you say them out loud,” Swae boasted.
Xav and Genri looked at each other like this woman may be a little crazy. Swae adjusted her rose-tinted specs and motioned her hand towards the wall, blowing a passage through four straight miles of stone. “I’d rather get outside while we still have daylight,” Swae said casually. Genri’s and Xavus’ jaws dropped at the simplistic show of power and what it did.
“Will no one have felt that?” Genri exclaimed. “It won’t matter in a bit,” Swae replied through a puff of smoke. “Now, if you would,” she added, politely motioning down the tunnel. Xavus and Genri were a little slow to catch on to exactly what was happening. Slowly they began down the fresh path.
“WE’RE ON A CLOCK, MOVE IT!” the archangel hollered. So, the two men took off down the rubbly tunnel. By the time they came to the end of the stretch, Swae was sitting beneath a tree on the other side to meet them. “You guys haven’t been exercising much, have you,” the archangel stated, watching the two struggle to catch their breath. “Cut us a break, Lady,” Xavus panted.
“Fine,” Swae sighed, conjuring two white-wood bowls filled with purified water. The archangel seemed bored, waiting as the two men drank and refreshed. “What do you guys know about Ephthali?” Swae asked. “One of the largest civilian port cities in the world,” Genri replied with water dripping from his face. “You’re right,” Swae replied, “but wrong answer, Xavus.”
Xavus just shook his head. Swae sighed dejectedly. “Whatever. You’ll just learn as we go,” she mumbled as she began to walk. Xavus and Genri were taken aback when they saw that the archangel had commandeered a vehicle, a sleek royal cruiser. “Sexy, right?” Swae grinned. “I will give the imperials credit for their designs.” Swae sat in the back seat and motioned for one of the others to drive.
Xavus and Genri glanced at each other; then each made their move. Xavus was quicker, causing Genri to have slammed against the closed door. “I’ve always wanted to drive one of these,” Xavus said with an eager smile. “I know,” Swae replied with a wink.
Then…
An eerie hum could be heard in nearly every inch of Mol’do, and the heavens began to darken as a dark veil cast over Mol’doan skies. “Don’t stop the car, Xavus,” Swae said calmly. Genri looked in every direction to see dark clouds pouring into the atmosphere as the eerie deep humming seemed to now carry tectonic frequencies.
THERE WAS A SUDDEN AND TERRIFYING EXPLOSION THAT WOULD PIERCE THE EARS OF EVERY LIVING THING ON THAT CONTINENT, followed by a second of silence before black lightning struck the land in a powerful barrage from Tristen into the southwestern seas. Emi-Shet was physically split in half, and Mol’do bore a dark scar from sea to sea thousands of miles long and 10 miles across.
Cities and villages alike were vaporized and decimated in an instant. Open country was charred and cleaved. Hundreds of millions of lives were stricken from the world in a flash and a boom, but this was only the initiation of a plan. Swae held her chest as if she had an intense shooting pain, but she did well to fight through it without drawing her companies’ attention. They were quite distracted, anyway, by the dust and debris that seemed to part around them.
The humming had stopped, but the crackle was still echoing into space. Most debris was vaporized, but there was still a wall of dust dividing the continent in the aftermath. “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” Xavus cried. “That’s my brother’s handy work,” Swae said, still fighting back the aches in her chest. “WHAT!?!?” Genri yelled.
Swae tapped the back of Xavus’ head, sending him a vision of the route they were to take. Genri was attempting to regain his hearing, making an assortment of moment-inappropriate noises, at which Swae couldn’t help but smile. “I told you we needed to be out of there while we had daylight,” she remarked.
“Dom’rel did this?” Xavus inquired. “That’s right,” Swae grunted playfully. Xavus glanced over his shoulder seeing the wall of dust still running as far as the eye could see. What could the man say? “Thank you, angel,” he said humbly. “Archangel,” Swae replied plainly, easing in her pain. These three had quite the trip ahead. It was nearly 3,000 miles to Ephthali from where they were.
To the far north, in the crags of Geth, the Mera evacuation route had been ambushed by imperial forces and Geth barbarians. The fighting was abruptly interrupted by the cataclysmic anomaly, crashing every imperial airship to the ground and causing the weaker peaks to crumble. I couldn’t help but get chills when I saw the utter chaos that now consumed these burning passes.
The Pomeu mavericks were in utter attack mode against the barbarian lines that had encompassed their area. They partnered with what civilians could fight. The Ser’ja mastiff crashed into enemy artillery and ripped imperial gunners to shreds in the air. Even as it began to draw fire, its aerial agility and intelligent strategic maneuvering kept it quite alive.
The group was trying to get to a vehicle farther ahead in which Iris had been. It had been hit with several large rounds from an airship chaingun, laying at a standstill for some time with no signs of life seen coming or going. Sahja furiously cut his way through imperial conscripts and others with a growing rage that was making his companions hang further away.
The maverick, with frightening intensity, cut down 73 men in that 300-yard stent. Blood shook from Sahja as he forced open one of the heavy metal doors. Iris was there but was unconscious. A bullet had grazed part of her face, burning her left eye beyond repair. Sahja grabbed Iris and carried her out. An arrow lodged into the maverick’s back, but he barely responded to the sensation.
As a barbarian came over a pile of rubble and leapt at the maverick, his head was cut clean off by an unknown projectile. Sahja watched the trail of blood in the air, tracking the weapon returning to its wielder. As he did, he paused to an unexpected sight.
Dozens of the bladed cats that he’d seen at the mire were leaping around the jagged rocks, thrashing the ambushers. Each cat was unique in its detail and traits. Sahja found out why as he witnessed one seamlessly take a humanoid form mid-sprint. The man was moving with such momentum that his hand was able to impale a barbarian through his flimsy armor.
Blades and arrows filled the air as terrani bladedancers and trappers, in some way, seemed to have come from the very mountains. Spells even began to light up the smoky ravines, and unnatural winds eventually pushed the thick smoke up to dissipate.
As Sahja was distracted--and in quite a daze for another reason--one of the cats dashed by in a flash and removed the maverick’s swords from his very waist. Two of the elves, not knowing what to do or expect, approached the maverick as he held Iris in his arms. One elf was a burly specimen for his race. The other was a female that shared a stature similar to Fiaria’s.
Their eyes were like pearlescent onyx, and th
eir skin hailed on the paler hues of the color spectrum. “This is him?” the large terrani asked in a deep voice. The female affirmed the question in their language. Sahja glanced around him to see that the battle had gone quiet for all intents and purposes in every direction, and that he was surrounded by armed terrani heroes.
“Simple precautions, maverick,” the female said calmly. “I doubt that you realize you killed twelve of your own people in your onslaught just now.” Sahja froze with eyes of disbelief. The burly terrani had approached to take Iris, simply holding out his arms in front of the maverick. Sahja gently exchanged Iris into the terrani’s care. Then he fell to his knees and put his hands on top of his head.
The burly terrani gave an order in his language, and the heroes began to disperse. The female approached Sahja and crouched to speak with him. “Your friends and mate are alive,” she said plainly. “They probably saved a few lives clearing others away from you.” Sahja lowered his arms, now using them to support himself.
“Our people are going to see to the care of your survivors. We couldn’t leave Mera’s people to such a fate,” the elf continued, “and we’ll need you to see my husband. He’s just like you.” The woman helped Sahja up. “I’m Kat,” she said, beckoning the maverick to follow. As Sahja walked by, she took the arrow from his back. The man showed no reaction.
The terrani had been driven underground ages ago when Mol’do became its own land. The Fo’hemut rulers had a ruthlessness that their terrani counterparts did not have; and so, through sheer aggression and wicked tactics, the surface was won. The terrani have managed very well for themselves over the years despite this, as they continually kept a watchful eye on the surface of what was still their home.
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