by T. C. Edge
Markus’s eyes swivel to Athena, watching proceedings quietly until this point.
“We may have some means of prediction, General Trent,” he says. “The one advantage we have are our Watchers, many of whom are highly trained and experienced. The Baron has his Seekers, yes, but they are young and there are only four. Athena…”
Now Athena takes the stage, her face a typical snarl and eyes like that of a fox. Her arm, injured only days ago on Eden, sits in a sling, weak but on the mend.
“Thank you, Markus. Yes, from what we can gather, the Baron has no Watchers outside of his little force of clones. They’re powerful and can see deep into the Void, but their ability to search and decipher the future in their visions may be a weakness. Here, we have certain individuals who have supreme gifts in such arts, Cyra in particular. We will make it a priority to find out where any fresh assaults will dawn. By the sounds of it, the Seekers are splitting up as they comb the country. Together, they are extremely powerful. Individually, however, they are vulnerable. We have to make it our goal to take them out, one by one.”
I look across at the Watchers in the room. Link, Ajax, Velia, Athena’s two loyal servants. Mostly, however, my eyes greet my mother, her full powers returning. If anyone can see far into the future, it’s her.
“Good,” says Markus. “I want all of you working closely together on this, and want regular updates. Be sure to keep Drake in the loop. I’m merely keeping his seat warm…when he’s fully recovered, he’ll be leading this cause.”
I’ve always liked Markus, and that sort of comment is exactly why. He was once Drake’s right hand man during the War of the Regions, and despite now being the city Master, continues to defer to him. Frankly, there’s no one better out there to be guiding our path than my grandfather, and we all know it.
For a little while longer, the meeting continues. Other voices are heard, offering insight into what they’ve discovered, or fleshing out some of the latest rumours about enemy movements. Many in the room, however, have little to contribute, here largely as a courtesy due to their positions in the major cities and regions being discussed. We are, after all, talking about their fates of their people, and they have a right to know what’s happening to them.
Naturally, of course, the current location of Baron Reinhold and the Cabal is of primary concern. It’s Link who brings the question to the table, his voice joining the fray for the first time.
“He’s back in hiding, as far as we can gather,” answers Jackson. “Directing matters from some unknown location. I doubt he’d peek his head out right now, not unless his Seekers are there to protect him. However, we do know that a large force has been gathering along the ravaged coastline, taking up positions in Piscator and Mercator. It appears he’s making them his central command post, using the area as a base of operations from which his men can strike out.”
“So he could be there?” asks Link eagerly.
“Could be, but we have no definitive proof. His need for overall subterfuge is gone. Now, his forces are out in the open. Just not him…”
“And the Cabal?” asks Cyra. “What about his allies. Lord Kendrik, Count Lopez, and the rest?”
“They, too, haven’t been seen. I assume, like us, he’s keeping himself and his most trusted supporters tucked away somewhere. He’ll use his pawns to do his bidding. And their numbers are growing…”
“Yes, we have already given up the fight along that stretch of coast,” says General Trent. “We have to be smart about our choices, and they have control of those lands and cities now.”
“Then we continue to consolidate for now,” says Markus. “They caught us off guard, but the playing field is starting to even out. With any luck, the Baron will have shown all his cards and won’t have any more tricks up his sleeve.”
I doubt that’s the case, but don’t say anything. The Baron has shown himself well capable of tripping us up, time and again. As far as I can see it, the playing field isn’t level. It’s very much in his favour.
The meeting concludes soon after, the morning still young as we move back down the passage and into the main chamber. Before we go our separate ways, Athena gathers us Watchers together and reiterates our orders.
“We all need to be looking for any fresh attack,” she says.
Personally, I don’t much like the sound of it. We spent half our time on Eden looking for where the next attack might take place, a frustrating process at the best of times. Now, it looks like that process is going to start all over again.
Yet, I know that it’s not really about saving a few people in some regional town. It’s not about making sure they don’t have to suffer the choice of silver or lead. No, this is about squaring up against the Seekers once more, getting one alone and outnumbering him. If we can do that, the likes of Link and Athena and Cyra can surely break them down.
“You know what they look like,” continues my old mentor. “You know how they smell and sound. Look for them, night and day. Never let them drift too far from your mind, and we’ll find them, we’ll see them coming. And then, together, we’ll hunt them down.”
And with those words, the hectic morning of greetings and meetings and top secret information finally concludes. And from the green woods of Lignum, and my quiet little life, to the high passes of Petram, I find myself right at the centre of a civil war, in the heart of a collaborative effort to stop darkness from spreading across the lands.
And like Leeta helping to run the city over in that command post, I know that I’m born for this too.
Right here, right now, is exactly where I’m meant to be.
5
The Guardians of Liberty
I begin to suffer a sense of déjà vu as the following days come and go. Tasked once more with hunting down signs of any major attacks, the true curse of being a Watcher unfolds before me more profoundly than it ever has before.
With war spreading fast, death and destruction is never far from my mind. Often, it’s just as it was when Ajax and I first trained here under Athena before the Watcher Wars, when our powers were first developed. During that time, I’d see murders and accidents happening down in the mountain passes and deserts below, never able to spot anything specific enough to help me stop them.
Now, with so many escaping the fight across the regions, I see the unforgiving tundra swallowing people up as they cross the wasteland. Right before my eyes as I sleep or meditate, they die of thirst or get sucked into quicksand or pass out from the unrelenting heat that they will never have experienced before.
I know, now, just how desperate things can get down there, how things can turn calamitous in the space of only a few hours for those unused to the perils below. Now, desperate to flee the fighting, people are willingly putting themselves into harm’s way, choosing the lesser of two evils as they leave their homes behind. It’s a sign of their despair that they’re willing to go to such lengths, many dying as they succumb to one hazard or another.
The numbers of the dead rise by the hour, going far beyond anything I’ve yet seen. It creates so much fog in my head, my visions clouded and indistinct as I see one accident or death after another, watch as innocent people get sucked from this world in terrible fashion.
Ajax and Velia appear to be having the same problem, Vesuvia too. She may not be able to fight right now, but she can search her visions as she rests and recuperates. Together, we gather in the twins’ room with Cyra, who once more offers us the wisdom she’s accumulated.
“You need to do as Athena told you,” she says. “Think only of these Seekers. Search for them, and nothing else. There is nothing we can do for individuals and families crossing the Deadlands. That is a task for someone else. Our job is to find our main enemy. Think of them, and them alone.”
It’s a harsh mentality, but a necessary one. I’ve learned plenty of times now that seeing a person die or get injured in a vision is very rarely enough. That the vast majority will never be saved, the accident occurring in an unk
nown place and at an unknown time. It’s the true curse we bear, watching these people die with no means of saving them. And at times like this, our minds are continually assaulted.
We all agree to work harder, though, and to do just as Athena and Cyra say. My mother’s words, in particular, echo within me, her proficiency at such things exceeding all others. I know that she’s already been seeing signs of major attacks hundreds of miles away in the regions, the landscape and architecture making it clear of the general area in which they’re taking place. Few, if any, of us can see that far and maintain that clarity. And yet even she tells us she hasn’t seen a Seeker as yet.
Of course, for me, filling my head with thoughts of the Seekers isn’t too difficult. They’ve been dominating my thoughts for a while now, one in particular. He lingers in there almost constantly, his image emblazoned before my eyes, his grey-blue eyes glinting behind his hood.
Never is he far from my thoughts, this boy who is half built from my mother. I think of how the Baron called Augustus Knight the Seekers’ father once before, when we met in the training room beneath his compound. If that’s the case, then Cyra is this boy’s mother...
And I am his brother.
More and more, I grow desperate to tell someone about it, to talk about it. I look at my mother each time I see her, feeling more guilty by the day that she doesn’t know. I itch to let it slip to Ajax or Velia when we share private moments together, when they ask what I’m thinking about as I go quiet, not knowing what thoughts are in my head. Each time, I brush it off and dodge the question, but they can both tell that something is up.
Worst of all, I barely see my father at all. He’s the only other one who knows, the only person I can talk to, and yet rarely does he appear in the house. Working all hours he can, he doesn’t even come for dinner, returning late and leaving early in the morning before I get a chance to talk.
One night, several days after the meeting, I creep out of bed once I know Ajax is asleep, and head downstairs into the sitting room. I wait by the dying fire, listening for footsteps outside the door, my head and body weary as I struggle to stay awake.
The creaking of the door signals my father’s return. I hear him move in towards the kitchen to grab some food before setting off for a brief slumber, and catch him before he can go.
“Theo, what are you doing up this late?” he asks.
“I need to speak with you,” I tell him. “It’s eating me up, dad, this Seeker…I need to talk about it.”
I can tell he’s weary, and this is the last thing he needs right now. And yet, still, he leads me back into the sitting room and we take a seat.
“Speak, son,” he says.
Frankly, I don’t even know what to say. Only that it’s been on my mind recently and I’ve been itching to spread the word a bit more.
He shakes his head as I speak, then cuts in with a firm: “No.”
“But…”
“No, Theo. I told you before, and nothing’s changed…we need your mother focused on her job, and the same goes for everyone else. If anyone knew that this clone was half made up of your mother, then it might impact their behaviour in battle. We know full well just how ruthless he’ll be, and we need to be the same. We can afford to be nothing else.”
It’s the same thing he’s told me before, and I’m not surprised that nothing’s changed. Given how much he’s got on his plate, he probably hasn’t thought about it much. I, on the other hand, have been obsessing.
“You said you understood when we talked about this before, Theo. Now, I’m going to make you go one step further. You need to promise me you won’t mention it to anyone.”
He fixes me with that stare of his that demands compliance.
I take a breath and have no choice but to nod my head.
“Yes, sir.”
“Say it.”
“I…I promise I won’t say anything,” I say.
He nods.
“Good. Now get this off your mind, OK. It’s doing you no good at all, and we need you strong. Imagine if everyone else knew, and they were all feeling the same as you. Would that be a good thing, or a bad thing, during this time of war?”
“Bad,” I admit, conceding to his wisdom.
“Precisely. Now, it’s late, and I really need to get some sleep. That’s the thing about wars…they’re not kind on anyone’s schedule.”
He smiles at me and stands, before swiftly slipping from the room.
The exchange didn’t exactly go as I’d hoped, and yet no better than expected. Frankly, when you’re at the centre of running a war, this particular concern must seem fairly minor to my father. Still, though, just getting it off my chest and hearing him reassert his strong opinion on the matter helps to assuage my doubts.
For now, at least.
Outside of the city, the world continues to rush along at a frenzied pace. Already, many of the Petram soldiers stationed around the Deadlands are being mobilised and brought to the mountain passes. With so many refugees still swarming in, their numbers are essential in helping to ensure law and order is kept, and in protecting the people from any would-be threats.
Right now, however, an attack anywhere beyond the ruins of Knight’s Wall isn’t being expected. The Baron’s grip certainly can’t extend that far without overreaching and making him vulnerable. So, as more people come, and the city fills, large camps are set up down in the valleys below to cater to the civilians and Petram army alike.
The Eden forces, meanwhile, continue to offer as much support as they can across the regions. Mostly, the coastline has been given up, and reports have come in that the other sea cities have succumbed, the soldiers stationed there fighting to the last man with no real means of escape.
Yet the entire picture remains hazy, and we have no accurate way of determining the size and scale of the Baron’s operation. As his mercenary army continues to spread, gathering people to their cause, it’s impossible to know how many are joining, and how many are being killed. Mostly, however, people are evacuating before they’re discovered, choosing to go one way or the other: those loyal to us going into hiding, or passing Knight’s Wall and continuing on towards the Deadlands; those disaffected with the current regime choosing to willingly join forces with the usurper and would-be leader.
Slowly, the grand picture forms, telling of the changing shape of the nation. People running scared and hiding where they can, groups of mercenaries spreading far and wide, our own soldiers defending the people, holding down the fort at certain towns and cities across the country where their concentrations are high enough to fight on.
Mostly, the fighting remains locked relatively close to the coast, the further regions like Agricola still yet to be touched. My extended family on my fathers’ side remain there, passing him information as they gather all those able to fight and form their own vigilante force. The same appears to be happening elsewhere: those unwilling to run and hide are gathering arms, organising themselves into their own groups to defend their homelands.
Such spirit is what this country, and this regime, is built on. A never say die attitude that pervades great swathes of the population so tired of being subjugated. They will not run from the Baron’s men. They will not risk the perils of the Deadlands in an attempt to find shelter from the storm. They will stand tall, and face it head on, and collectively tell the Baron that they’re not afraid, that the evil of Augustus Knight has been banished from their lands, never to return.
And soon enough, a name begins to spread from town to town, settlement to settlement, a name taken on by these protectors of the nation.
The Guardians of Liberty, they call themselves. Regular people, unwilling to yield, unwilling to run.
Willing to fight
Willing to die.
6
A Fond Farewell
The emergence of this new force gives everyone cause for optimism. Once more, I find myself invited to a war meeting in order to hear further updates and provide any of my own.
Standing in the Master’s chamber, all of the Watchers, starting with Athena, give details of their recent visions. Around us, the two Generals stand, along with Markus, Jackson, and a few other military personnel. A few politicians remain, but most of those who were gathered here before are absent, their presence seemingly doing little but adding unnecessary bodies and voices to this particular meeting.
Mostly, our testimonies are fairly disappointing. At the moment, with so much going on across the country, what we’re seeing is muddied and opaque, visions shifting from one to the next as they fight for attention in our thoughts.
It doesn’t help, also, that certain major cities continue to be focal points of the fighting towards the Eastern coastline, our forces and the Baron’s locked in a stalemate. Such a large scale battle only serves to blur smaller visions, diverting our attentions away from minor skirmishes elsewhere, of which the Seekers may be playing their part.
Currently, we can be certain that they’re not involved in the main fighting. Not only have we heard no reports from our own men of their presence there, but the simple fact that the fighting is evenly matched is testament to their absence. Were they to turn up, they’d quickly decimate our men, who’d have little defence against their powers.
That, of course, is what makes us all so curious. It’s Ellie who brings the point up, saying what many of us are thinking.
“It’s diversionary,” she says. “The Baron is maintaining the fight to cloud our visions. He doesn’t care if he loses men, just that it’s hindering us, and allowing his Seekers to work in secret.”
