Halcyon Rising_Bastion of Hope

by Stone Thomas

  “Did you see it?” he asked.

  “Sort of,” I said.

  “Good. An expansion pack is just a bag whose internal dimension is greater than its external dimension, so you can hold an awful lot of feathers, or whatever tickles your bones. The good expansion packs have strong gravlite or gravnull properties, and eye-aversion enchantments. That last bit protects against thieves and is the reason you didn’t realize the bag was even there.”

  “I want one,” I said.

  The adventurers laughed. “You’ll never earn enough money in your measly little life,” Lura said.

  Yurip pulled his bag back over his shoulder. “Despite the gravnull, this bag is still bulky. The law is a many-paged beast, but do not fear. I have tamed her and she is mine. I will go through my private library book by book until I am certain this place passes muster.”

  “You are too kind,” I said. I picked up the fairyfly and turned to leave.

  “You really are a slow one, aren’t you?” Lura asked. “You haven’t even popped it yet.”

  I turned back. She pointed at the fairyfly. “No, I haven’t opened the bottle yet. She doesn’t seem to have any sympathy. There have been zero tears.”

  “Fairyflies are rotten little bitches,” Lura said. “If you want her to cry, you have to pop her wings off.”

  “That’s what you meant by popping it?” I asked.

  “You’ve got to pop the little tart,” Lura said, “then it bleeds and cries and dies. It’s a one-use item.”

  “That’s the cruelest thing I’ve ever heard,” I said. I pulled on the cork that capped the bottle until it came loose. “Be free, little bugger. Try not to get caught again.”

  “Are you nuts?” Lura asked. “Like, actually certifiably crazy?”

  The fairyfly flapped her wings until she rose above the lip of the glass bottle. She looked at me with her deep blue eyes and hissed. Her mouth held only two long fangs on the top, and one on the bottom. I dropped the glass bottle when I thought she might bite me, but instead she darted into the sky and disappeared, her wings a blur of red, gold, and green.

  “Good luck when she comes back,” Lura said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “One time,” Prandon said, “we went to a small city that offered us a large reward to track down and kill the gang of vicious vampires that were sucking the blood from every baby and child under two years old. There were no vampires. It was fairyflies. They had to burn the city down and start from scratch to get rid of them.

  “My advice, if you plan on keeping any babies alive: hide yo’ kids,” he said.

  I swallowed, hard. None of the current residents had brought children with them, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t have children while they were here.

  “Regardless,” I said, “popping a fairyfly is cruel. It is hereby banned in Halcyon.”

  “Tentatively,” Yurip said.

  “Fine,” I said, “it is tentatively banned in Halcyon. Let the fairyflies come if they will. We’ll defend ourselves if they become a problem.”

  “How long do you think this place can run on clever ideas and visions of a foggy future?” Lura asked. “At least Sajia knew she was weak. She had a full on army in Landondowns, not that it did her much good. This new goddess of premonition is kidding herself if she thinks this ugly little camp isn’t just a paper dragon.”

  Arden, Nola said, what does she know of Landondowns?

  “You’ve been to Landondowns before?” I asked.

  “We were just there,” Prandon said. “When it got attacked we left, since no one was paying for us to stay and fight.”

  Cindra swatted at something in my peripheral vision.

  “Attacked,” I said, “by glistening black creatures with horns and massive canines that looked like ebony death?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact,” he said.

  Cindra swatted again. I worried that the scent of an unflushed outhouse was attracting bugs, which would add to Yurip’s list of flaws, but I needed to know about Landondowns, for Nola’s sake.

  “And you just ran? What happened to the Adventurers’ Code?” I asked.

  “We didn’t see anyone attacking the goddess there,” Prandon said, “so we were free to go. We have no obligation to get involved in city warfare otherwise.”

  “Tell me what you did see in the city,” I said.

  “The temple was glowing, just like the rest of the buildings, with some kind of enchantment or other,” Prandon said. I was amazed that these adventurers didn’t know a bastion stone when they saw one. They weren’t the worldly travelers they thought they were.

  “Then the glowing stopped,” he continued. “It took a few minutes for things to get bad after that. We were in a tavern at the time, and a mob of those nasty creatures marched through the street. A trail of bloodied guards littered the road behind them.”

  “And you didn’t step in to help,” I said, “because you don’t help people for free.”

  “Exactly,” he said, “see, you’re starting to catch on. You’re not as remedial as Lura said you were.”

  I took in a deep breath. “Continue.”

  “So those things, whatever they were, they marched into the temple after it stopped glowing and threw everyone out. This one lady went ballistic. Fat old woman with brilliant white hair in a tight bun on the top of her head, she just started wailing on the doors. That’s when we realized she was the head priest, and her deity had just been killed.

  “It was sad, for her. We got out of there as fast as we could.”

  Duul didn’t kill her?, Nola asked.

  “That old woman, she lived?” I asked.

  “I didn’t see them kill any of the women, now that you mention it,” he said.

  Biddy’s alive!, Nola yelled. Arden, Biddy was my mother’s head priest. She looked after me as a child. If she’s still alive, we have to rescue her. We can’t let her end up like the Meadowdale refugees.

  “You said the walls stopped glowing before those cretins attacked the temple?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Prandon said, “why?”

  Nola, I asked, what does that mean? Did your mother deactivate the bastion stone before Duul could get ahold of it?

  Maybe, Nola said. She may have seen the attack coming. If so, we could recover the stone before Duul finds it.

  “How far is Landondowns from here?” I asked.

  “Almost two weeks on foot,” Prandon said. “And it’s not a nice trip.”

  Cindra swatted once more. This time, Hork yelled, “Booty!”

  Then I realized what was going on. That brainless brute was putting his filthy stubby hands on Cindra, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  “You back away from her,” I said, pivoting away from Prandon and toward Hork.

  “Arden,” Cindra said, “just let it go. I have.”

  “I will not,” I said. I felt the blood rush to my face. I didn’t even know what I was saying, I was just throwing words into the air. “If she said no, you back off.”

  “Hork takes what he wants,” Lura said. “Don’t challenge him.”

  “Need booty!” he yelled.

  What he needed was someone to politely explain the history of women’s treatment in this world. Even in realms more civilized than ours, women have been poked and prodded and forced into situations they didn’t consent to. It was the very evil we were fighting to stop Duul from inflicting. Women should not be subject to touch first ask later scenarios.

  This was a universal truth. I needed to reason with Hork and explain this calmly. Here goes.

  I took a step forward and looked him in the eyes. “You,” I said, “suck.”

  That didn’t go as I’d hoped. Then I punched him in the nose.

  His face didn’t budge, except for the gradual glowering that took hold. I stepped backward, suddenly recalling his vastly superior physical strength, and his very high defense to physical attacks.

  Hork took two giant steps t
oward me, closing the gap. Not gi-ant steps, those would be small and sort of waddly. No, these steps were long strides that shook the earth with each footfall.

  He said nothing as he stared into my eyes. I stared right back, holding Razortooth’s pole upright against the ground in front of me.

  Then he smashed his forehead into mine.

  I imagined two eggs. The first cracked open as a small bird jackhammered its beak against the shell. My skull wasn’t that egg. Mine was the second egg, the one that jackass bird accidentally kicked out of the nest and then smashed into a wet, shattered mess on the ground four stories below.

  My vision went black, but not before I saw Hork’s eyes roll toward the back of his head. Then I hit the dirt.

  +16

  “Arden,” a voice said. “Arden Hochbright.”

  Before me stood a woman with impossible brightness. She might have been the goddess of staring into the sun, except that I recognized her face, her voice.

  “Yes, Great Mother?” I asked. She stood before a white marble altar in a temple whose walls were spotless and white. The building glowed with the same faint light as the bastion stone that failed to take hold in Meadowdale, but this light was white instead of green. “Am I… dead?”

  “No, Arden,” she said. “You are unconscious. Death comes easily in this state, so you must hold on. Do not give up.”

  “I haven’t given up,” I said. “But I have… questions.”

  “Your path is unfolding too quickly,” she said. “You should put Cahn’s words to the back of your mind.”

  “I don’t believe him,” I said. “I could never believe him, after the way he’s treated me my whole life. He kept things from me, important things about where I come from. I’m not destined to destroy the empire, even if I do want to strangle Yurip on occasion.”

  “He’s telling you the truth, Arden.”

  That took a moment to set in. “How could that be?”

  “Your parents were afraid of your fate,” she said. “Sajia warned them of your potential, and they were terrified. The empire demanded that they kill you. They smuggled you to the farthest human land instead and delivered you to Cahn for safekeeping.”

  “The empire,” I said. “You are the empire, aren’t you? You ordered my own parents to kill me.”

  “And Duul rose to power while you lived your life in peaceful obscurity,” she said. “Your death would not have prevented this war. I was wrong.”

  “It isn’t too late,” I said.

  “No,” she replied. “But premonitions are ever-shifting things even in tranquil times, and even more unreliable during turmoil. Focus on the present, not the future, Arden.”

  “How,” I asked, “when I’m destined to become Duul’s champion and the prophet of war?”

  “Kāya must die for Nola to live.” Her response was no response at all. I wanted answers. I wanted to know who I was. I had spent my whole life believing my parents had turned me over to an orphanage because they didn’t want me, didn’t love me. I deserved to know the truth.

  “Are they still alive?” I asked. “I want to know where I come from.”

  “The past is irrelevant,” the Great Mother said. “Focus on this: If you permit Kāya to live, we all end in death.”

  +17

  When I opened my eyes again, my head rested on a soft pillow in one of the recovery beds in a small room adjacent to Nola’s altar room. My head throbbed as a memory congealed in my mind. Hork had smashed me in the head.

  “Cindra!” I yelled, bolting upright in the bed.

  “She’s fine,” Mamba said. She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through my hair. “It’s you we’re all worried about. Your HP must have hit zero because you went unconscious. It’s impossible to hear the music when that happens.”

  “What music?” I asked.

  “The music that moves the wind,” she said. “It’s getting louder, like a storm is coming. But I like loud music for dancing, so it’s a mixed emotion.” She started to sway to the rhythm in her mind. Her fingers curled in my hair behind my head and I started to sway with her. It was soothing.

  “Hork,” I said. “No, all three of them. They pledge fealty immediately or we ring the alarm bells and force them out. Nola wants adventurers, but they’re a danger to everyone.”

  “They pledged,” Mamba said. “I can feel the strength in your head, Arden. Hork must have felt it too, because his music went quiet from the impact. When he awoke, Lura had some very sharp words for him. She was angry he attacked a head priest, so they pledged to Nola right away. They pledged to you too of course, but you weren’t there to hear it.”

  Mamba leaned forward, leaning me back against the bed. My whole body was warm and tingly from the restorative magic held by these healing beds. She kissed me on the cheek and lay next to me, bringing her knees up on top of my thighs.

  “We’ve all taken turns,” she said, “waiting for you to wake up. I’m lucky I got to see the sun dawn in your eyes, since I missed watching it rise in the sky.”

  “How long have I been out?” I asked.

  “All night,” she said. “I took a double shift because I missed you. Is that silly?” The smile left her face. “Sometimes I think the things I say are silly.” Her hips continued to move as her own private music coursed through her body. I curled my arm under her and pulled her on top of me so I could hold her close. Her knees took position on either side of my hips.

  “I don’t think it’s silly at all,” I said. “I should have been around more.” I could lay like this forever, just holding her. Mamba had a special way of creating beauty in a world that was gradually going dark. With her, I could put Duul to the back of my mind, along with Hork, and Cahn, and everything else.

  “Vix said you’ve been stretching yourself too thin,” Mamba said. She sat upright, the weight of her body pressing against my pelvis. I ran my hands up her flat, tight stomach. “She said you need to release the weariness inside.”

  “Oh really?” I asked. I liked where this was going. My hands cupped her breasts. Mamba moaned lightly as I massaged them in my palms.

  “I don’t quite understand what Vix meant,” Mamba said. “She said I should bring in the donkey and give you two some time.”

  Well that killed the mood.

  “What did you say his name was again, Homey?” she asked. “I was thinking that maybe Punch would be a nice name, since you didn’t like Kong.”

  “We can’t name the donkey Punch,” I said, “but thank you for giving it more thought.”

  She climbed off of me and reached toward the floor. “I don’t like giving bad news, so let’s just say this news is unexpected.” She handed me Razortooth.

  I sat up and took the weapon. It was an adventurer quality spear, costing thousands of gold and providing some important stat boosts. I had no choice but to keep using it, even though it was now… bent.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Cindra said you dropped it, and then Hork stepped on it as he fell down,” Mamba said. “I feel better now that I told you. Holding that information felt like petting a secret. I don’t like those either. They always bite.”

  Great, I thought. My trusty polearm went from Razortooth to Snaggletooth just like that.

  I thought back on the previous day, and all of the XP that I had absorbed when Kāya evolved before my eyes. I opened my status menu to make some changes.

  A sharp pain rollicked through my brain when the letters and numbers lit up in my vision. Maybe skillmeistering could wait until this headache was gone. I pressed my fingers into my temples and tried to massage the pain away.

  “Are you okay?” Mamba asked.

  “I will be, I think,” I replied. “Would you mind bringing the girls here? We need to plan our next steps.”

  “Of course,” Mamba said. She stood up and stretched, spun herself around, and left the bay of recovery beds.

  Oh, Aaaarden?, Nola asked.

  Oh, yeeesss
s?, I replied.

  We’ve talked about donkeys in the temple before, she said. Please get him out of here.

  Coming, I said. I walked into Nola’s altar room from there. I didn’t see the goddess until an explosion of giant yellow feathers erupted from the space above her altar to the sound of a dozen chick-hens being strangled. When the feathers settled down, Nola sat cross-legged on her altar, coughing a few last feathers from her mouth.

  Entry flourish?, I asked.

  Still working on it, she said.

  I walked toward the center of the temple, toward our resident donkey. “Hotay,” I said, “did Mamba bring you in here? We’ve gotta get you a proper place to stay.” I’d have to add building a stable to Vix’s growing to-do list.

  I thought we all agreed that was a terrible name, Nola said. Give that poor animal a name it would thank you for.

  “Fine,” I said, petting the donkey on the head. “How about something simple, like Shane. Would you like to be the donkey Shane instead?”

  Someone called out from the doorway, “I hope we’re not intruding on something private.”

  “For gods’ sakes, I’m not going to screw the donkey!” I yelled. I felt my face redden as I turned back to find two women with shocked faces. “Sorry, I guess that’s not what you meant by private. Come in.”

  “It’s not,” the first woman said. Vix slipped into the temple behind her.

  Our visitor led a donkey of her own through the doorframe and toward the altar while the second, younger woman followed.

  Nola sat on her altar staring the animal down.

  “I heard,” the woman said, looking around as if she weren’t sure what to say or do. “I heard there was a goddess here, and a head priest that used his skills for free. I’m a woodcarver. I’d like to sponsor my daughter here to open the same skill for her.”

  I glanced at Nola and arched an eyebrow, but it was Vix that offered an explanation.