by Marc Mulero
“We have a lot to discuss, Greatness. I hope you’ll entertain me when this is all said and done.”
“I will. You have my word.”
“One more question.”
“Yes, Eres?”
“Where are the Faction forces? I didn’t see anyone on the ground.”
“Ordered away.” She sounded extremely worried at the reminder.
“By who?”
“Lasarius.”
Eres dropped the device and shook his head. “None of this makes any sense.” He glanced over at Vasa, who had one hand on the wall, still struggling to catch her breath.
“Proctor, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine.”
“Good.” He released the hatch once more, counting the seconds for the shider to adjust into landing position. “Oh, and thanks for saving my ass.”
She waved him away again. “Don’t mention it. Eres…”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful out there.”
As soon as he felt the gravitas beads shifting his center of gravity to align with an upright shider, as soon as he felt the vibrations from the massive ship touching down for landing, he knew it was time. And so, he slipped out once more.
Open, calm air. He could finally think clearly again, and wanted nothing more than to rush straight for the chambers without considering anything else, but this area… whatever or wherever he’d landed, it was nothing like he’d ever seen before. A marvel of ulmanity’s design.
Iron slate walls the size of spires stretched as far as the eye could see. How could something like this ever be constructed? The manpower, the resources. Protection unparalleled. This was to guard a god’s kingdom, not that of a mere mortal.
Well of course, these were the Imperions’ Chambers. Leaders of the Factions, of the warless world. And it was at this point that Eres knew there was no way someone could get into there unless those leaders wanted it so.
Lasarius. What are you up to?
He looked ahead to a building that resembled an iron furnace, starting with its massive base and tracing all the way up a set of smooth black stone blocks stacked above one another. There were deep indentations around the building too, and from them shined an ominous dark crimson glow. Eres couldn’t believe it. Lasarius’ chambers appeared more like a barracks than a political spire, as though he was some Swul war hawk. This wasn’t at all fitting for an Umboro-born orphan. But then again, what did Eres know? These were elite politicians so far from his reality that he couldn’t even fathom.
Still though, something was off. Even the sky seemed a bit darker all of a sudden, like he’d crossed down into a different dimension.
Don’t think about it. Just go.
And he did, using his flenos boots to skate forward, conserving impeller bursts at all costs from this point on. Who knew what he would be faced with? Old friends? Seren? This new assassin? One thing was for sure, though - he was not leaving these chambers without answers.
This grand mystery of the Silent War may have been new to his proctors, sure, but his father had been fighting it for years and even gave his life for it. And Eres grew up wondering about it as a result. His curiosity was so intense, so consuming, that it was almost to a fault. It left an endless series of questions. This accumulation molded into one final determination - from the beginning of his Skrol training ‘til today - he vowed that it was time to put the puzzle together.
Spera was right. A small stream of smoke rose on the side of the chamber’s base, far away from the sealed off front doors.
Weird. Who would be dumb enough to think they’re getting out of here alive after breaking in?
Eres kept his Glite mask down for comfort, feeling the warm air brush against his cheeks as he glided toward the cut-out, hesitant the whole way, knowing a trap could be sprung at any moment.
Hm, he thought as he approached the smoking cavity, analyzing the blackened outline.
The smell of this smoke is of burning wood, not metal or steel. Could this be Reach, here in the Scarred Lands? How could that be… these lands are supposed to be as barren as my Obrun parts. Even more that doesn’t make any sense…
He ducked through the gap and into a lavish dining area where a burning chandelier hearth the size of a boulder was at the center point overhead. Eres couldn’t help but stare at it: all of its upward winding curves designed to mimic the flames and a concave shield – like a bowl - to catch soot and ember beneath. It was beautiful.
He had to keep going, so he weaved around a pristinely set oval table meant for twenty people at least and into the adjoining hallway. So far nothing. No commotion or noise. Just the cackling hearth behind him now.
The next room’s ceilings were so high that he felt dizzy for a second. His footsteps echoed. This section alone could have been an entire cathedral. Stained glass carved with historical events shined on every section of the walls lit by artificial light to bolster the scenes. Faction pride, of course. Probably the first thing that made sense here so far.
So many doors in this room too, all clamped shut, all but one. Down at the other end, near a presenter’s alter, Eres could see that one door was hanging open. He couldn’t help but worry the further he went, like a rodent crawling deeper and deeper into a maze, a trap.
Wham.
Something collapsed a few rooms away.
Things were making him incredibly uneasy, until he heard a voice.
“He’s not there. C’mon, stop staring! We have to try another room before it’s too late.”
Eres froze in his steps. It can’t be. His heart felt like it stopped short. The voice was unmistakable – a hint of bratty sarcasm, yet so genuine. He missed it. He missed her.
And then out from the shadows came every confirmation he didn’t want. Flowing brown hair, jaw clenched, making her lone dimple stand out, eyebrows knitted in despair.
Mustae, she’s more beautiful than I remember.
But those weren’t the bad things: Just as she materialized out of the shadow, so too did another – hand in hand – more dangerous looking and handsome than he remembered. His eternal rival: Crow.
Even his appearance was different now. He was still cursed with sickly pale skin, blessed with piercing blue eyes like ice, but that’s not what caught his eye. It was the changes - wrist guards made of bark with inlets for water, black Glite stitched with vines. Did he bring the elements with him to the Scarred Lands so he wasn’t defenseless?
Smart, Eres thought, for an asshole.
He then wondered how they would view him. Eres was a Skrol now, right? Transformed in every respect. He’d suffered death, again. He was now known as one of few who’d lived in both spheres. His reflexes had tripled from their last encounter and confidence doubled.
But then why was he feeling like a child for the second time that day?
Windel stopped short, allowing crow to straighten after being dragged.
“What is it- oh.” Crow narrowed his eyes. “Of all people, in all places. You.”
Eres leisurely strolled toward them, footsteps still echoing as he tried to play it cool despite the gravity of it all. “Seems that many people are surprised to see me today. Like they all had a plan to keep me out.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Dawn. We’re here for other matters.”
“Eres…” Windel whispered amidst the bickering.
“Is that why you two couldn’t heed our call to intercept Spera?” Eres stopped far enough away to signal that he wasn’t there for a peace offering. “Would be nice to communicate with the Alliance, wouldn’t you say? If you are even part of it, that is.”
“Silence!” Crow shouted before grabbing his head in pain.
It made Eres wince to see Windel lovingly comfort him. It made him die a little inside.
“Is it the voice again? What’s it saying this time?” Windel soothingly patted his back. “We need more clues. Anything, Crow. Beg for them.”
“The voice,” Eres
reminded himself, and then peered up to the couple. “It’s the same one that brought you to the Colliding Spheres, isn’t it? Now look, it brings us together again. Why?”
Windel glanced up at Eres, obviously distraught for more reasons than one.
“I’ll tell you, Crow.” He didn’t know why he was ignoring Windel. It may have been unfathomable jealousy for his competition or just plain hate, but either way, he was noticeably doing it. “It’s as I said back then - an ally. I confirmed it wasn’t Keeper Decalus. He swears by it.”
“Of course it’s not him, you fool! I told you that!” Crow smacked the air harshly. “An ally wouldn’t torment me like this. Endlessly speaking nonsense.”
“Eres, please,” Windel begged, forcing their eyes to her. “We’re running out of time.”
Who’s running out of time? Why is she even here in the first place? She looks too distraught… does she mean in her relationship with him? Is this some kind of last straw? Stop it!
“Security will be on us at any moment,” she pleaded.
Of course. Stop being irrational. This is bigger than their relationship.
Is it though? She’s only here because he’s tormented.
Eres begrudgingly made eye contact with her. “Why aren’t they here in the first place?”
“They were sent to an emergency terror attack.”
“Even the bodyguards, Windel? The interior defense? C’mon.” He looked at her judgmentally. “You know Ilfrid landed us here, right? Anti-air was shut down too.”
Windel’s eyes were becoming glassy, and her chin trembled as if just smacked with a terrible realization.
“That’s right. Someone wants us here. What’s gotten into the two of you?”
Windel’s whisper echoed, “If you knew it was a trap, then why did you come?”
Eres turned away sharply, embarrassed. It was the same triangle before, wasn’t it? Windel was chasing Crow, and Eres was chasing Windel - the same nonsensical chase, over and over again.
No, this was more than a childish game. Eres went there for answers and nothing else.
Bang!
A door slammed shut behind Eres, jolting all three to attention. Then the clacking of hard heels over marble filled the space.
“It’s him. The Sindus Guild assassin. Careful you two.” Eres backed up to get closer to the others. “He’s a sorcerer too.”
“What? Ingora hasn’t seen one of those in generations.” Crow scoffed.
“No, you haven’t seen one of those. They exist. Trust me.”
“I am no longer part of the Sindus Guild,” the assassin’s poised voice bellowed. “I abandoned them long, long ago.”
“You would be dead!” Eres shouted. “No one leaves the guild.”
“Almost no one. And yes, the guild nearly got me. You may recall the Great Intrusion into Imperion Chambers years ago. Who do you think they were after?” The tall, slender man spread his arms.
The three of them exchanged looks.
“That’s right…” The assassin paced closer, lifting his hands slowly to pull back his hood.
“Lasarius,” Eres breathed.
“Yes, yes, now let’s get on with it. Very impressive use of branch fire, Crow. Only the most concentrated of elements could melt those walls. Look, those wrist guards, hah! So resourceful. Bringing Reach where it was meant to be kept out. I see Kor Blu has done well for you.”
“Why do you know my name? Are you the voice, Imperion? Get out of my head!”
“Oh, you poor soul.” Lasarius snapped his tongue. “A side effect of Reach is not being able to discern all of these different wielders’ voices from your own. Isn’t it terrible when someone latches on to your connection? One of the reasons I despise such a practice. You see with Sorcery, you are a wielder of elements, a creator of enchantments, a true powerhouse. We don’t sing with the spheres to get what we want. I don’t need dirt, or nature, or the blessings of the All-Mother. All I need is the fire within me, knowledge of Gushda, and a purpose.
“And right now, that purpose has been fulfilled. I patched your little hole. No one is getting in or out unless I deem it. Now, tell me. Where is she?”
“She?” Windel asked.
“Oh, don’t play games, little Carrier. It is your duty to patrol my chamber to the death! Why else would you have fallen into my trap? Spera Noe Donnus planned for it. Now… hand her over so we can be done with this little charade.”
“Seems like we’re not the only ones off base,” Eres cackled. “She’s not here.”
“Eres, shush,” Windel whispered, “don’t give anything away! Listen, he doesn’t seem to know much about the voice in Crow’s mind, which means you may have been right all along… it may still be an ally. This might be our only ticket out of here alive.”
“Enough!” Lasarius bellowed, crossing his arms with one hand clamped around his wrist. “This is my favorite room, but I will burn it down if I have to.”
“You’re wasting your breath. Spera isn’t here.”
“She’s the only true conspirator against me. Of course she’s here. I’ve deduced her treason from the frequency of off-calendar trips combined with historical record gatherings. Someone as intelligent as she should have figured that my propensity for correlating data would lead to her capture. That’s why I laid this rather obvious trap. She’d be too eager to pass it up, even with all of the telltale signs. Now, hand her over and perhaps I’ll allow you to continue your existence as permanent residents to my chamber.”
“To think I used to look up to you,” Eres said, “an Umboro born orphan, like us.” He gestured to Crow and himself. “You were the Imperion that stood out most, as a sign of good. I see you now.”
Lasarius cackled back at Eres. “No, no, no. It is I who sees you.” He relaxed his arms and pulled off one of his gloves, flashing his blue esper once in case they hadn’t noticed.
Ressa’s esper. The Elkar.
“So Spera was right to chase you!” Eres bellowed. “You have her ancestral ring!”
“Oh Eres, I can see so clearly what you were back then. Such a strange being, then and now.” Lasarius was speaking in riddles.
“Answer me!” Eres drew his blade.
“Why… you haven’t asked a question, young Skrol.”
Eres was flabbergasted. “How did you know-”
“Your eyes. You’ve experienced death. It’s obvious.”
“Eres?” Windel turned to him, stunned.
“Now here I thought that wasn’t meant to be in your cards,” Lasarius went on. “Funny how things play out. Anyway, we in the Sindus Guild experience similar training, albeit very different than yours in sum, yet still, there are parallels.”
Eres didn’t realize it before, but this man talked too much. He was so arrogant.
As Lasarius stepped closer, his sorcerer’s robes shimmered in the stained-glass light: glossy crimson and gold, so different from his usual tapered suit – his guise. This is what he really was. A genius manipulator, a former assassin, a sorcerer. What a danger to society. No wonder someone as revered as Spera Noe Donnus was shaken to reveal her motives against him.
“Who did you kill for that esper? Was it Ressa herself?”
“Kill? No, Eres. This was bequeathed to me.”
“I don’t buy it for a second.”
“Statements of truth don’t require your purchase or doubt. They simply are. And perhaps they are there for you to discover on your own. He did say you were undeniably curious and headstrong. What a dangerous combination.”
He? So, he’s in league with Seren after all.
“It’s really too bad your journey ends here.” Lasarius lifted his chin. “It really is…”
“Get ready, you two,” Eres fell into combat stance, “we’re not going out without a fight.”
And with that statement, Lasarius swung his arms inward as if giving himself a giant hug. He looked insane for a second, until two whirling tornadoes the size of the room crashed throug
h the glass, sloping to spear the Alliance with two barbed funnels of wind.
They would have been sliced bloody if they didn’t move. But as Eres readied to burst forward, Windel yanked his arm back, their eyes meeting.
“Wait,” she whispered, before looking up to her boyfriend. “Crow.”
Two giant slugs made of violent wind were descending quickly, barreling to converge on their location. So fast. So deadly. Eres could almost see their elemental mouths widening to consume them.
“Windel! There’s no time!” Eres screamed in dismay as the winds blew their hair back, making them shield their faces.
But then everything stopped. A sound of rushing water zoomed around them, a shadow of deep blue darkening their bodies. It was Crow rising slowly from his knee with a hand held forward.
What was happening? Eres had seen it before: that same shield that Crow conjured to keep him back in the Colliding Spheres. He summoned it again here, without the elements to do so. How? Same as when he broke into this chamber in the first place. His armor. He fused Reachable elements within his Glite. Genius.
“Charge him as soon as the shield breaks, both of you,” Crow commanded.
The intensity of wind crashing against water made the ground rumble, the water ripple, their vision shake. Then the revolving wave of water stopped.
“Go,” Crow demanded right before he pushed the shield to burst outward.
Eres flew like a curveball to Lasarius’ right while Windel crisscrossed under Eres to hit his left. It was poetic. Mustae only knew what Crow was doing though as he knelt silently to the floor, wrist guards percolating with activity, hands flat against the surface.
And then suddenly, he rose like he’d just grasped the reins of some very powerful horses, fighting to maintain balance. Floorboards were cracking under his feet, tree roots growing through the ground in fast-forward, branching out faster than the other two were charging. More elements of Reach. His armor really was a portable forest.
But through all of it, Lasarius was eerily calm, almost mockingly so.
“Do you even know what it takes to be a blood assassin?” Lasarius leapt to meet the flying Skrol mid-air, using summoned winds to whirl into a highly momentous spinning roundhouse kick. Wham. Eres was able to cross-block, but found his momentum instantly dispelled. And before either of them touched ground, Lasarius arched his back, summoning a spear of fiery wind that seared to knock Windel off course.
