by T. C. Edge
Max nods, and doesn't press the subject any more. Being a former Champion of the Imperial Games himself, as with many within the Imperial Guard, he holds the Warrior Race as sacred, one of the great foundations of the city. I wonder if there may be a compromise that they could come to. Rather than take people unwillingly from their lands to fight as slaves, why not make the games a matter of choice only? To include only those who are willing to fight, rather than force foreign slaves into it?
The thought is appealing to me. After all, I was one of those foreign slaves, captured to fight in the games, like many others before me. I will never agree to that custom, but I do understand the people's desire to witness combat in the great Colosseum. There truly is nothing like it. To outlaw it so suddenly is to alienate large parts of the population, who have little else to live for.
I muse on it idly as I sit there, still delaying in the conversation I know needs to be had. I turn to the side, where Adryan sits next to me, silently looking out upon the plains. His mind is busy, I know, and troubled. I have shared pleasantries with him only as yet, a fond greeting but little else. The topic of Brie, his wife, and my best friend, isn't an easy one to broach.
"How's President Orlando," I ask him instead, selecting a lighter subject to warm up with, as the conversation ahead continues to set a nice backdrop. "She keeping everything in order back home?"
He turns to me from the window, looking a little preoccupied. "Yeah, good, all things considered," he says. "The people are starting to relax again after the siege. Rycard is doing a good job running security. Work has begun on rebuilding the northern walls where the Olympians attacked." He nods and manages a muted smile. "The city is safe. And cadet numbers for the City Guard are going up. There's a lot of resilience there, Kira. I'm impressed by their resolve."
"I guess people are realising that we can't rely on anyone else to protect the city," I say. "Everyone needs to do their part. What about refugees? Are they still coming in?"
"Still coming," he nods. "Things are just starting to pick up again on that front. They're still being heavily vetted when they enter. Sophie and Secretary Marr are doing a fine job."
"Well, that's good to hear. Nice to know that life is beginning to continue as normal again."
"As normal as it can, I suppose," says Adryan.
"And...Colonel Hatcher? I hear he was too weak still to come and fight?"
"Yes, he's still in no shape for that. He will make a full recovery, though, we're told. It'll just take time."
"His Stalkers are pretty much extinct though now," I say. "I guess you've heard already what's been happening here. Perhaps a dozen of them left, if that. I wonder if the President will consider re-introducing Cromwell's genetic experiments."
"I don't think so," Adryan says, seeming quite sure of it. "It would be a backward step, wouldn't it? She wants to disassociate as much as she can from everything Cromwell represented."
"I know, but in light of all of this?" I say, shrugging. "The Stalkers are formidable. If it's in the name of protecting New Haven, then perhaps it's worth thinking about."
I turn my eyes down, taken by a thought. The thought that I know my days helping to protect New Haven might well be done. And, depending on what happens from here, perhaps Brie's are too...
"And...what about Cromwell?" Adryan asks me. His voice turns a little tentative. Turning the conversation to Cromwell, who remains a captive in Olympus, is only going to lead it onto Brie. "Do you know anything about what's happening with him?"
"Not much," I say quietly. "All I know is he's with them. They might have been using him to help force Brie's cooperation. Or Marcus..."
"Right," says Adryan. "Captain Marcus was taken as well. I heard about that."
"We're going to get her out you know?" I tell him, steering the topic away from Marcus and other such distractions. He doesn't need that right now. He needs to believe that, when we get Brie back, they'll be able to patch up their marriage and work through their troubles. "I said that to you before we left," I go on, my green eyes resolute. "It remains a promise, Adryan. I'm going to make sure we get her back, just as she was."
I consider reaching out to take his arm, squeeze to give him extra support. But I find he doesn't need it. His voice firms when he next speaks, his expression telling me he's accepted Brie's peril, and decided that she will be extricated from it in time.
"I know," he says, his voice not shaky or weak, but durable. "I know you will, Kira." His eyes drop, only briefly, to my ankle, still strapped and slightly swollen. "Can you still fight?" he asks. "You don't seem completely stable on it. The...the crutch and everything. What happened?"
I pull a breath into my lungs and release it as a sigh. "It's a long story," I say, not entirely willing to go over everything that's been happening with me. "I sprained it a little, a while back. And then again during the battle, but worse. Torn ligaments. But the prognosis isn't too bad." I glance ahead, where Dom continues to debate energetically with Max. "Dom said his medics will be able to speed my recovery."
"And you want that?"
"Of course," I say, frowning. "How am I going to get Brie out if my ankle is screwed?"
I say the words with conviction, and without the self-doubt that has addled me recently.
He lifts a smile at the force of my response, and begins nodding to himself, slightly reassured.
A short silence fills the rear of the car, while Max and Dom continue to speak in the middle seats ahead of us. Elian travels with us as well, sitting in the passenger seat beside the driver. They, too, seem to be engaged in a relatively lively conversation, the Neoroman soldier behind the wheel interestedly asking Elian about Olympus, and the lands that surround it.
Elian, for his part, has grown more vocal over the past few days, growing into his role as advisor and bodyguard to Secretary Burns. With his powers back, he seems a changed man. The quiet, morose character he was has evolved into someone more relaxed and confident, quick with a smile, and eager with his tongue.
I think he's realised that moping about isn't going to get him anywhere. And certainly, if he still harbours a desire to win over Amber, he won't do it unless he offers a point of difference of his own. Jude may have known her all his life, but Elian shares a unique Fire-Blood bond with her. I remain quite interested to see how their little love-triangle sorts itself out. I only hope that it doesn't take a death to decide the winner.
Eventually, Adryan speaks once more, his voice darkening like a dimming light. "All this stuff Brie's been doing," he says. "I wonder..." He shakes his head. "I wonder how much of it is her."
I look at him with a frown. "Her? What do you mean?"
"Her pursuit of power," he explains. "I know she's always spoken about growing stronger to help protect New Haven, but there's something more than that too. She wants it for herself as well; at least, a part of her does. Maybe they haven't had to try too hard to make her do...everything we've been hearing. I think some part of her will be enjoying this."
"Enjoying helping the enemy?" I ask, not entirely liking the insinuation. "If she is, it's only because they've got into her head. She is completely loyal to our people, to you, the President, Tess, Brenda, Drum. The list goes on, Adryan. She'd never help the Olympians willingly."
"I know she wouldn't really," he says, backtracking a little. "I suppose my wording isn't coming out right. I'm just worried that we won't be able to get her back. She craves power, for whatever reason. And we're hearing they'll have awakened her full potential now? That she's able to awaken how many, dozens of people, hundreds, at once? It might not be easy to turn her from that path."
His eyes turn ahead to Dom and Max, and then out of the window towards the jeep driving just ahead of us. The car occupied by General Decimus, among others.
"What if she's too dangerous now?" he goes on. "What if the only decision is to try to...." He shakes his head again. "You know what I'm saying."
I nod quietly, but don't speak immedia
tely. It's something I've grown concerned about before. The more powerful Brie becomes, and the more of a threat she is, the harder it's going to be to continue to justify trying to rescue her. And with a ruthless man like General Decimus now at the helm, commanding a legion of three thousand loyal troops, how can we be sure he won't seek to assassinate her, just as he will the Prime.
After all, isn't she just as dangerous to us now? Might she become an even greater threat?
I hate the thought, the dilemma becoming increasingly difficult to avoid. It is the elephant in the room, something few of us are willing to give full voice to yet. And certainly, not me.
So all I do is turn and look Adryan in the eye, and repeat my previous assertion.
"I'm going to get her out, Adryan," I tell him. "I'm going to try to get into contact with Zander as soon as I can. Maybe he'll have an answer. Something that can help. We have to keep faith, all right? Don't give mind to such thoughts yet."
"Believe me, Kira," he says, "I don't want to. I suppose it's my nature to think logically. I can't just bury my head in the sand."
"We're not burying our heads in the sand," I counter. "Look, the truth is, we don't have enough information yet to know what might happen. There's nothing wrong with considering all ends, but don't dwell on the most negative one. Surely that's not why you came?"
He shakes his head. "I came to lend aid to Secretary Burns where I could," he says. "I know I may be of little help, but I couldn't just sit back in New Haven, not knowing what was happening here. Whatever happens with Brie, I want to know first hand. Even...even if she doesn't want me anymore, I still need to know."
"She does want you, Adryan," I say, softening my tone. "You're going through a rough patch. It happens. I know Marcus. He's just a friend to her, that's all. You have nothing to worry about."
He shakes his head. "Look, it doesn't matter. Forget me, forget our marriage, all of it. This is about getting Brie back safely. And Marcus too. I harbour no ill will against him. I know he's well thought of by the Neoromans. I'm sure they want him back, just as much as we want Brie."
"And Cromwell?" I ask. "I doubt anyone cares too much about him."
"I...wouldn't have thought so," Adryan says. "No one but Brie anyway. He's the reason she was caught in the first place. It was her mercy that got her into all of this."
"Mercy he hasn't earned," I say. "It would have been easier if Hatcher had assassinated him as he was supposed to."
"That's...just Brie," Adryan says, the words issuing weakly from his lips. "She has too much compassion. It can make you do foolish things."
"We act recklessly for those we care about," I say, nodding. "Love overrides logic, I suppose. A part of me misses those days when I was...detached from all that."
"Ignorance is bliss," he nods, "if you'll excuse the cliche. But personally, I prefer to feel. Most Savants can't, at least not like me. You get more value from life when you experience emotional ups and downs. I wouldn't say it's a positive thing to be cold and detached all the time."
"No, but it was easy," I say. "Certainly in the world I grew up in. What's the point in getting attached when someone you care about might die the next day?"
"So what changed for you?"
I look ahead and can't stop my lips from curling. "Him," I say, looking at Dom. "And everything that happened to me in Neorome, really." I shrug. "I think I realised I wasn't quite as cold as I thought I was, either. I did well to push things to the side, but I was just lying to myself. It became untenable in the end, trying to live like that."
"And now?" he leans in a little, and lowers his voice. "You're to marry an Emperor, become an Empress. Is this it for you, then? Your final battle."
I nod, knowing it now. "I'm done after this," I say. "With any luck, there'll be no more battles to fight, anyway. And if I'm to go out, I'm going to do it doing something worthwhile." I look northwards through the windshield, searching the distant plains. And in my head, the walls of Olympus come to life, and the hill at the centre beyond. "Brie is my focus now," I say. "Just Brie. This all hinges on her. And I'm going to set her free."
If it's the last thing I do...I will get her out.
175
BRIE
The square below teems with figures, thousands upon thousands of them filling every space they can. They are draped in every colour imaginable, a glorious sight of the people of Olympus collecting at the foot of the Sacred Stairs, eyes staring up to the summit far above.
I smile down as I look at them, though know today they are not here for me. No, this is no gathering of Fringers, of pilgrims to be shown the light. These aren't simple commoners from far and wide, hoping to be transformed into Children of the Prime, cloaked in greys and browns and muddy hues, simple people wearing simple dress, journeying here to change their stars.
No, these people are the residents of this magnificent city, come here to honour another set to rise. It is a ceremony that comes with the elevation of one of their own, lifted to the summit of the great Hill of Olympus, initiated into the Chosen and Heralds.
The figure they are set to praise steps forward now, his great, hulking frame dressed in ceremonial robes of brown that cut short at the arms, and open at the chest, displaying the man's staggering muscularity beneath. The right arm, chest, and face is heavily scarred, the skin corrupted by searing fire. It is a striking look, half his frame untouched yet grim, carrying the typical look of his type, the other morbidly disfigured, forging the man into a monster, enough to give children nightmares should they spot him wandering the streets.
To Krun's side, stands the Overseer, wrapped up today in robes of deep crimson and dark brown, more muted than his usual fare. He performs a short address for the crowd, speaking of Krun in gallant terms. A mighty warrior, scarred in combat, set to follow in the footsteps of his mighty predecessor, Atlas, who fell fighting against the Havenites far to the south.
His words bring faint memories, fluttering like moths in the darkness of my mind. The source of his scarring comes. An ambush in the woods. A ravenous inferno, spreading through the Olympian ranks. I find faint memories of my own presence there, fighting with those I once served. And the plan itself, the plan to set the trap, burn down the woods. That plan, I think, was mine...
I look at Krun suddenly in a different light, feeling sorry for what I did to him. I want to step forward and apologise, or at least remember to do so later. He is a Chosen now, the Chosen Titan. He deserves to know the truth, doesn't he?
I continue to listen as the Overseer speaks, and as I do so, the truth slips from my mind. I turn to my thoughts again and try to catch it, take a grip before it slips away. But I find myself only clutching at air, trying to catch smoke in the palm of my hand. The memories fade into the darkness, rejoining the other fluttering moths, their bodies invisible in the gloom, only the beating of their wings audible.
Another memory, lost within the sea of fading thoughts.
I turn to refocus on Krun's inauguration, my mind free of such troubles again. I lift a smile as I listen to the Overseer continuing to list his achievements, his well-earned position here atop the hill. My eyes flick to a few of the others assembled upon the steps, the rest of the Chosen and Heralds present as well. Not all of them share such a sentiment. Their expressions make it clear they think Krun's elevation is unwarranted, the Titan unworthy of standing among them.
Soon, the crowd are roaring, however, calling out Krun's name. I see the Titan's scarred face lift into a wide grin, tears gathering in his eyes. He soaks up the praise for several long moments, before the Overseer speaks again.
"Tonight," he calls out, "we celebrate the elevation of a favoured son. Do not let yourselves be troubled by the army that marches to our gates. Eat, drink, dance, and be merry. Our walls cannot be breached. Our people cannot be defeated."
His words ring out, his ageing voice clear and true as it sings through the air. I wonder whether he chose to exalt Krun for this very reason, to give the peo
ple a distraction, allow himself this opportunity to address the great and good among them.
They respond well, defiant as they call and holler from far below, the centre of the city filling with a cacophonous din. For them to see all the Heralds and Chosen gathered before them will give them the strength they need to combat the coming siege. It is a show of power, and solidarity. A way of saying, 'we will not yield, we will not wilt in the face of this coming threat'.
As the din spreads from below, I find the Overseer's eyes turning to me. His lips gather a smile and he nods, and then gestures for me to step over towards him. I don't hesitate, eager to step out and take centre stage. With a slightly dismissive flick, he has Krun stepping away, making room for me to join his side.
I feel no real sense of nerves as I stride into position, only a desire to look down upon those gathered below, to stand at the centre of the top step and have their focus turn upon me, and me alone. I wonder, briefly, if he's about to officially inaugurate me into the Heralds of Awakening. Is that what this is? I think. Is it my turn now?
He smiles fondly as I reach his side. His words come to me, quietly, private.
"They love you, Brie," he says. "Look at them. Look closely. Some are new here, you know. Some of those whom you have awakened."
I turn and look down, and slip briefly into the cerebral realm. My powers have grown exponentially now, my ability to perceive hundreds, even thousands of people at once far beyond what I could ever have imagined. I can get an immediate sense for those whose heads I have been in before. There are some, yes, but not many. Dozens, perhaps, who have quickly joined the ranks of the Children of the Prime, found themselves assimilated into the Olympian citizenship.
"What about the rest?" I ask, turning to the Overseer. "I've awakened thousands now. Why are so few down there?"
He smiles again. "Be patient, child. It takes time to determine one's place within the puzzle. Many of those you have awakened are still waiting to discover their path. And many others have other priorities right now, as they go through basic training to better defend their homeland."
