I closed my eyes and pressed my head against the bars. “Alright. I hear you.”
I smelled smoke. My eyes blinked open as the noise of a commotion outside drifted in as well. Echoes of terrified screams reverberated through the tunnel to the jail. When I looked at my hands, my shackles were loose, and Bella was gone. She’d left the mop and bucket, but I couldn’t see even so much as a wet footprint leading away.
A group of Inquisitor guards ran past me urgently and disappeared into the tunnel. I kept the shackles on for appearances’ sake. Through the high window, against the orange of the sunset, the shadow of a black dragon flew across the sky. I stumbled back and clutched my chest to catch my breath.
And then I was left alone again. I took off the cuffs and tried my cell door, to no avail. I looked around for something, anything, to free myself. There weren’t any other prisoners and all I could find was a wooden spoon left over from dinner.
When I turned around again, Therion and the other Tryharders were there, smiling and waving and picking my lock. I stared at them, mouth agape.
“You alright there, sister?” asked Kjen, handing me my gear through the bars.
I thanked him and put on my robe and sandals. I rubbed my wrists, sore and red from the shackles, and replaced them with the golden bangles Gaia had gifted me. I instantly felt better, even if the Prisoner’s Affka would still affect me for a few more hours. The notification did say it produced hallucinations. Maybe that’s all Bella was. I attached my holy book to my left arm with the leather straps.
We ducked together into stealth as the dragon outside screeched and spit flames across the city.
“I should—”
Therion nodded. “You go on up ahead, sister,” he said, waving me off. “We’ll catch up after we get our comrades out of here.”
I held out my hand for him. He clasped my wrist. “Thank you,” I said, staring him in the eye.
The Wode blushed and cleared his throat. “Debt repaid, is all,” he muttered.
I followed the Inquisition guards into the tunnel while slipping into stealth. My level wasn’t very high at all, and the white-and-red priest robes definitely didn’t help the situation, but I figured I definitely didn’t want to run into my jailers... or whatever they were fighting.
I was almost to the main hall, ready to walk out the front doors and pretend I always belonged there, when I spotted a familiar and unwelcome silhouette peering around the corner ahead.
It was Cian, the Fallen Priest, and leader of the Darklings at the Black Temple out in Ankara. He was supposed to be locked in a dead bind room. His greasy, salt-and-pepper hair and deep-set eyes were unmistakable. The tall Wode glanced over his shoulder and spotted me. My entire body froze, as if that would help, like I was prey. There wasn’t a lot I could do on my own to fight him. Not yet. It was rough the first time around with a whole team. What was I going to do, smash him with my holy book until his brains came out his mouth?
This man worked for Serth-Rog, Daemon Prince of Morsheim. He was a direct threat to the empire and all living beings in Eldgard. He had murdered Hector with a black knife and sucked the soul out of him.
At that moment, I didn’t know whether I feared Cian, or the man who thought to let him out.
Cian looked me up and down, a cool expression on his face. He gave me an unnerving grin and winked before slipping into stealth. I waited for the inevitable dagger in my back and the telltale shield of Ubiquity giving me a second chance, but none came. I pressed myself against the wall to protect my flank, still holding my breath, but after waiting what felt like an hour but was surely minutes, I accepted he had just left me.
I didn’t understand. Part of me regretted sparing him. Part of me wondered if that’s why he spared me, or if he had other plans, worse ones.
The screams outside pulled me from my shock and directed me to the empty main chamber and out the front doors of the Inquisition Hall.
The truth sunk in like a hot knife into my chest. The sun wasn’t setting. The sun had already set. Night had fallen, and the chill, wintry air was replaced by heat.
Rowanheath was on fire.
Maybe my prayers weren’t answered right away like I wanted, but I could answer the prayers of Gaia’s people.
Hellfire
Smoke billowed from the wood frame buildings of Rowanheath. The streets were flooded with the chaos of screaming people fighting for their lives. Fire rained from the sky in the form of a black drake. I wondered briefly just how much Affka the Inquisition had given me, because surely there wasn’t a giant dragon breathing fire on us.
The heat of flames proved it wasn’t another hallucination.
The portal mage at Stonekeep was doing his best to help people get out, but there were too many in the unruly, frightened crowd, and only one portal. What’s more, groups were a favorite target of our enemies.
For me, it was hell. The world itself seemed like was on fire, with no end in sight from Stonekeep all the way down the hill to the gates of the city. People screamed for help that I couldn’t give. Not to everyone. Many were going to die, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop that. I froze, sweat pouring down my skin from the heat of the flames, and remembered the hospital I left in Manhattan. That place was a frozen tomb, where screams were silenced by death and ice and fear, but echoed in the hallways of the hospital all the same. There was nothing I could do to help the people there. Especially not against the asteroid that consumed the world in a fiery blaze. That this asshole would attack such a quiet town, in such a manner, so soon after we all escaped such a fate, seemed unbearably cruel.
Whoever this man was, I didn’t want to meet him. And he certainly wouldn’t want to meet me. I didn’t know why they were here. I assumed it had something to do with Emperor Osmark’s proclamation. I certainly wasn’t going to stick around to ask them.
I rolled up the sleeves of my robe and tied them off with a rope in the same crisscross manner I saw on the Dawn Elves. I couldn’t let this happen. Not without a fight.
The people of Rowanheath agreed with me. Nearby a group tore down a market tent and coaxed a man to jump from a burning building. They refused to escape without him and reassured him they’d catch him. Another group fought down another street to defend an escaping family. An Imperial fighter leapt off a balcony and shoved a spear into the collarbone of a mage in burlap robes, pinning him to the street on his knees. The spell fizzled in the mage’s shaking hands. A second warrior took his head with a deft swing of two swords, while a Dokkalfar archer on the balcony shot at a rogue chasing the family. He fell when a slew of arrows lodged themselves in his hamstring and kidneys.
I turned around to see where I could be useful, and I spotted Kismet, Yvonne, and Corvus running up Porter’s Road.
“How was the funeral?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Don’t be like that,” said Yvonne, catching her breath. She leaned on her knees and sucked in air. “We came back for you.” She looked me over and pressed her tongue into her cheek. “Wait. How are you free?”
“Have you met her?” said Kismet, tapping me reassuringly on the elbow.
“Cian’s free,” I said without thinking. Kismet blanched and her jaw dropped.
“Well, when it rains fire it pours, I guess,” muttered Yvonne.
Corvus didn’t say a word but dipped their beak in greeting. I held out my arms for them, and they gave me a tight hug.
Kismet shifted her tower shield and drew her sword. “We need to find the High Commander. All Inquisition have been recalled to the Keep,” she said.
I looked around to the people. “What about—”
Yvonne answered for her. “Reports are that there’s four groups attacking different parts of the city. It started with multiple reports of arson; any pile of trash, every vendor cart, was lit up like the fourth of July. Then the assassinations started. Guard commanders, Viridian bureaucrats, priests and healers of all sorts were publicly murdered by cutthroats w
hen they were drawn out to help. The guards can’t possibly keep up with everything, and it’s spreading them thin.”
I didn’t understand. My head swam with the haze of Affka. I didn’t think reducing my Intelligence by 25% would affect me that badly, and it kind of hurt that it did.
“We should get Prioress Vita, then, and ask the Sophitian Temple—”
Kismet slapped a hand on my shoulder and shook me. “Soror, listen to me.”
I looked up at her. Her eyes, fierce and darkened with kohl, searched my face. “The whole temple is dead. You are the last priest alive.”
I blanched and gulped hard. No pressure, Dr. Chen.
The Imperator pulled me close to her chest. I thought, I hoped, she was holding me for comfort as I heard her heartbeat thud in my ear, but that desire melted in the fire as I heard the distinct sound of an arrow deflecting off her shield and felt her brace under the impact.
It all happened so quickly. Corvus stepped forward and released their chain-sickle, snagging the archer in the shoulder with the curved blade and dragging him to us. Kismet turned around, releasing me, and met the archer with a blade in the man’s gut. She kicked him off and let him fall, then shook the blood off her sword with one fluid motion.
I popped my holy shield, Lenity, and wanted to disappear. I reminded myself of Bella’s words to be afraid but do it anyway. It was easy advice to hear but much harder to put into action. Other than the light from the fires, it was dark, and I couldn’t tell which direction we were facing in the chaos. On another road, a group of citizens did their best to form a bucket-chain to put out fires on the businesses and the homes above them. A roving gang of brigands marched on them. One motioned with their hands, conjuring fire in front of them. I shielded a young woman with a bucket of water in one hand and a child on her hip.
Kismet spotted the light out of the corner of her eye and charged in with her shield. The flames poured around the metal slab as she clutched the woman and child to her with her sword arm. Corvus released a miasma with their incense to buff us while Yvonne flung her cards, hitting each of the rogues with a different spell. Some were rooted helplessly in place by vines, another found themselves covered in stinging bees. Lucky the Sparrow pecked at another’s face, trying to get his eyes. As quickly as they showed up, once they saw we weren’t easy targets, they retreated into the alleyways.
I tossed a HoT on Kismet. The woman and child were untouched, thanks to her.
“To the Keep,” ordered Kismet, pointing her sword towards Stonemount. “If the rebellion gets to the control room and holds it for half an hour, they will take the city. They will even have control of the Keep Guardians. If that happens, they will throw open the gates and walk their armies through.”
I finally understood. The goal wasn’t to slaughter. The chaos of an ambush was enough. If they disrupted communication and organization, committed the war crimes of murdering medics, and created confusion and despair in us, they wouldn’t have to fight with an army. It was divide and conquer. At least, that’s what happened back in Manhattan. I was a messed-up woman who likely wouldn’t sleep well for many years after what happened in New York City, but the flashbacks were my body remembering what happened, and recognizing it again. We were ambushed, too. It was a distraction.
I took hold of Kismet’s wrist before she marched on the Keep. She halted and swung on her heels to face me.
“What if it’s misdirection?” I asked.
She stared at me, unamused, and quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Remember when I told you about what happened on my home world? They pulled the same stunt. They distracted us by taking the hidden routes and creating skirmishes, but it was all a ruse to pull us away from our main defenses. They walked right through the front door without having to take control of our command center. We could reinforce the command center’s defenses and forsake the city, but we can’t hold it if they walk through those gates with an army.”
Kismet was torn, I could tell. She looked me over and held my cheeks in her hands.
“Kondja Mia, how much Affka did they give you?” she asked while brushing my hair out of my face.
“Like, a lot,” I said without thinking.
She bit her red lips and surveyed the battlefield.
“We have orders, Soror,” she said finally, as if that settled the matter.
A fireball from the heavens landed on a nearby cabbage cart, sending burnt bits of green leaves flying. Kismet pulled me and Yvonne to her and shielded us from the debris, but the force of the explosion knocked us to our knees. The cabbage merchant clutched at his skin as it sloughed off in a white sheet, as if holding the burn in place would keep the skin in place. He sobbed over his cabbages. As soon as the dragon flew away, I slipped under my tank’s arm and threw a quick heal on the man. He didn’t jump to his feet and run but kept crying over his cabbages. The people nearby saw the light from my spells and ran to me for healing. I tossed quick heals and HoTs where I could but kept searching for more people who weren’t well enough to run to me. A falcon circled over the broken wood of the cart, crying. I removed a burning piece of wheel and spotted the charred remains of someone who’d thought to hide and swallowed the contents of my stomach.
It was one thing to see it in the hospital. It was another see it on a man shielding someone under him.
The woman was alive, but barely. She might’ve been a Dokkalfar, but it was hard to tell with how dark her skin was now. Her sliver of a Health bar blinked an angry red. I shielded her to prevent further damage. Yvonne had spotted my actions and stole a bucket of water to splash on her to stop the burning. I started with my stronger Prosperity. The instant heal bumped her hit points out of the red while the following heal over time patched up her peeling skin. Her eyes snapped open, the white sclera in sharp contrast to her charred skinned, and she screamed.
“Hey, hey,” I whispered, grasping her arm to keep her from flailing. “Stay with us.”
Another healing spell brought her back to normal. The woman, Judia, caught her breath as her Health bar restored. She was definitely a Dokkalfar, with dark gray skin and nearly white hair pulled back in several braids. She picked up her bow and hopped to her feet. The falcon landed on her outstretched arm and let out a series of happy chirps.
“Thank you,” she said, giving me a curt nod.
“Die on your own terms. Not his,” I said, nodding back.
“I’m with you. Where are we headed?” she asked.
I looked around. Everywhere was on fire. Everywhere was war as far as the eye could see. I even had some war on my priest robes. I didn’t think I could scrub myself clean if I took a cheese grater to my skin.
The rest of the group had finished helping the others and joined us.
“Ask him about the situation at the front gate,” asked Kismet.
Judia stroked her falcon’s head and whispered something. The bird flew high and soared around the city to scout. Judia’s eyes clouded over until they were fully white. She could see through the falcon’s eyes, and we could see in hers. A heavy force was gathering at the gates. I had been right, and my heart sank.
I hoped Sten, Amanda, and little Bjorn were safe somewhere. The slums were going to be hit the worst, if the heavily guarded Inquisition Chapter Hall and Stonemount Keep were this bad off. I wished I hadn’t sold out of my supplies. I just hoped the people who bought them were the people who needed them now. And, unpleasant as the thought was, that they weren’t Travelers so people could collect them off the corpses if needed.
The dragon passed overhead again. We pulled Judia with us as we ducked under the eaves of a shop and waited for him to pass. I prayed the little bird wasn’t viewed as a threat and stayed safe.
Our enemy flew low enough to get a clear view of him. I managed to catch his name with Acuity when he came within range: Grim Jack Shadowstrider, leader of the Crimson Alliance.
He wore black armor that seemed to bend the shadows of night arou
nd him. He was a Murk Elf like Judia and wielded a nasty clawed hammer. The spiked drake had purple eyes and was fearsome to behold. A Traveler had already tamed such a creature? He wielded power like that, and this is what he did with it?
It’s not fair, I thought. It’s our world, too.
Maybe he had some reason for the rebellion that I didn’t know. Maybe he felt it was ultimately justified. I didn’t care though. Not everyone gets to survive revolutions, especially the common people or people like my patients. I remembered back to when I thought of joining him. Maybe he would’ve taken me in, even if I was an Imperial healer, but I would’ve been fighting for something like this. For a man who sacrificed the innocent without their consent.
I understood that was war. That was revolution. But revolutions let the bad guys win, even if the bad guys were on your side.
Judia came back to us as her falcon landed. She added to her report, but it wasn’t anything unexpected: more fighting, more chaos, more fires. More importantly, a few groups had banded together like we had and were heading to the gates. The problem was the city guards were headed towards the Keep, and it was clogging up the roadways.
Corvus suggested we take the alleyways. It’d be more dangerous, and we all seemed to realize that at once, but we’d only add to the people in the streets and become a bigger target. Everyone looked at me silently. I, in my priest robes, would especially make us a target or gather people. If I kept shielding people, I’d make them a shining beacon that said “find the priest and kill her.”
I knew it wasn’t a great idea, but we didn’t have a choice.
“To the gates, then,” said Kismet, defeated.
In War, Laws are Silent
We worked our way through the back roads of Rowanheath, this time with Yvonne leading. Somehow, she seemed to know the way better than any of us, and I knew better than to ask why. She would read the Umbramarks on buildings, and if they were fresh scratches or white chalk, she’d lead us the opposite way. What was unsaid but what I understood was that someone within Rowanheath, likely in the Thieves’ Union, must’ve sold us out.
Viridian Gate Online: Schism: A litRPG Adventure (The Heartfire Healer Series Book 2) Page 21
