| |
Continent of Panaerth
20th Day of Month 6, Year 1628 DG
“Land!” thunders Ray-Mi’s voice around the vessel. “Ten minutes to shore.”
Salessa stands from the cot and stretches her arms overhead with a yawn. The suns’ positions inform her that over half the journey was spent in slumber. Naina lies on her back, staring up at the clouds.
“Did you sleep?” Salessa asks.
Naina shakes her head, a dazed gaze glossing her eyes.
“Is everything alright?”
The wolf nods, lips sealed.
Salessa slyly attempts to pry open Naina’s thoughts.
“Do it and I’ll kill you,” Naina threatens.
Salessa removes her consciousness from Naina’s mind. “You won’t tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Can’t some thoughts just be private?” Naina responds, sitting up.
“Not really, no. That’s not how telepathy works.”
Naina rolls her eyes. “That’s not how your nosy telepathy works.”
“I’m worried, not nosy.”
“Don’t be, I’m fine,” the wolf reassures her, rising from the cot. “I’m just processing.”
Salessa’s heart sinks. “Processing what? Did something happen?”
“Let it go, Lessi!” Naina growls.
After a long moment of gauging Naina’s agitation, Salessa nods. “Alright, I’m sorry.”
“I see Kruga!” Symin yells from the front rail of the ship, pointing to the coastline ahead. A crimson-skinned Mega stands on a narrow wooden pier, toward which Ray-Mi navigates the vessel. Kruga waves his arms in a pulling motion and the Radiance draws the boat in and anchors it, allowing the travelers to disembark.
Kruga has as many scars on his face and arms as Symin, and he’s clad in an identical hooded cloak. If it weren’t for the difference in age and skin tone, they’d look more like twins than Salessa and Naina do.
Symin embraces the crimson nymph and asks, “How’ve things been here?”
“Quiet,” Kruga responds in a gruff voice. His eyes trace the twins. “I see your journey was successful.”
“Indeed.” Symin introduces Kruga as “The son I wish had been born to me.”
Kruga laughs. “That would’ve made Zynima’s and my wedding night far more uncomfortable.”
“One Mega’s discomfort is another’s kink,” Ray-Mi adds from behind the twins. “Enough chatter, don’t you have a schedule to keep?”
Kruga nods. “We should move. Gina will be waiting at the rendezvous in an hour.”
“An hour is just enough time,” Symin declares.
Naina raises an eyebrow. “Enough time for what?”
The pink nymph brandishes the forearm scar, about which Naina questioned him the previous morning at PeakHaven Pass. “You wanted to hear the story about this scar, didn’t you?”
Naina nods excitedly.
“It’s time we talked about infiltrating the Bravers.”
A long and bumpy road, carved out of coarse sand and broken shards of stone, rocks the cart from side to side. It isn’t dissimilar from the rickety cart in which Ray-Mi escorted them through Nivyan Hollow.
Salessa keeps her focus on the scenery to distract her from the jolting. To the left, she finds the edge of a green, lush forest, and to the right, the glittering, golden sand of the shoreline leading into the ocean.
The twins sit in the front row, with Symin and Kruga in the back. Ray-Mi had remained behind with the ship, hoping to protect it while the others continued on to the ore processing center.
A glowing blue circle surrounds the cart, placed masterfully by Kruga to cloak them from the outside world.
Not long into the journey, a gurgling erupts into the air, and the travelers look around for the culprit.
“That’s me,” Naina admits. “Vegetables and bread won’t keep a wolf full for long.”
“Remarkably,” Symin notes, “Salessa doesn’t seem hungry at all.”
Salessa thinks of a response as quickly as she can. “We have wildly different activity levels, so Naina digests quicker.”
I would rather you don’t speak than lie so poorly, comes Naina’s voice. They’re going to figure out you’re not a wolf.
Oh, now you’re comfortable with invading my thoughts? To insult me?
Yes. For that, I am.
Kruga lifts a hide sack at his feet and hands it to Naina. She pulls apart the drawstring, and the stench of dead fish wafts through the air. Salessa turns her face away as Naina begins to salivate and withdraws a whole, raw branzino.
She wraps her teeth around the fish and shoves the bag into Salessa’s disinterested hands. The chaitender examines it for a moment, until something catches her eye at the edge of the forest.
Two small hummingbirds flutter about the branches of a tree. She sighs as her usual meal casually hovers in the distance.
It’ll have to do, she thinks, the raw aromas brutalizing her nostrils. She cautiously withdraws a smaller fish and takes a tiny bite. Somehow, her stomach accepts the offering without protest.
“Time for the story,” Naina says to the Mega, masticated fish flesh visible as she speaks.
Symin nods. “Telling you this story will give you both a better understanding of this team and the individuals you’re fighting alongside.”
Salessa agrees with him. She’s trusted them to bring the twins thus far, but knowing their history can, she hopes, alleviate some of the mistrust plaguing Naina.
“I can’t tell you about the scar, or the infiltration that precipitated it, without background,” Symin prefaces. “Sixteen years ago, my closest friend, Zabeza, went missing. His wife, Ovida, and I spent months searching before we found...his body.”
He breathes deeply, steadying himself. “He was unrecognizable—skeletal, as if all life had been torn from him. Translucent flesh, withered eyes, hairless. I’ll never forget it.”
“The following year,” Kruga takes over, “Zynima suffered the same fate. We were nineteen, young scientists working in the Castrum’s research labs.”
Naina inhales sharply. “You worked for the MegaFather?”
Naina!
Kruga nods. “We worked on special projects, testing the effects of Radiant energy on chemical structures. The Ore Monger wanted to make stronger and more versatile materials than anything in existence. Those efforts continued until he discovered ore, after which they were...pointless.”
Kruga’s head tilts up toward the sky, pensively. “We were in the labs when Zynima was summoned by superiors. She kissed me goodbye, told me she’d return soon, and left.”
Symin clears his throat. “That was the last time she was seen alive. Weeks later, we found her in the same condition in which we found Zabeza. Skeletal and lifeless.” His eyes swell with moisture, but he wipes it away.
Kruga places an affectionate hand on his shoulder.
Salessa delicately poses a question. “When you came to us, you said the Facilitator took your daughter from you. Is he responsible for these disappearances?”
Symin nods. “He abducted them and discarded their bodies at the edge of the forest, as if they were worthless.”
“Not just them,” Kruga adds. “Other Revolutionaries share tales of their own loved ones’ disappearances. The bodies were always found in the same condition. The Facilitator, under the MegaFather’s command, had been abducting citizens. All of these events took place in the same six-year span.”
“Did you tell anyone?” Naina inquires.
Kruga shakes his head. “There was no one to tell, Naina. Most faeries don’t care about nymph and pixie lives.”
“Kruga, Ovida, and I joined the Revolution,” Symin continues. “Our cries were neglected, so we became unignorable. We pledged ourselves to avenge those we lost, and three years after we joined, the abductions stopped.”
“That was twelve years ago,” Salessa notes.
1616, Naina transmits to her sister. The same year.
Do you think there’s a connection?
“What is it?” Kruga asks them, observing their silent glances.
I have to tell him, Salessa insists.
To her surprise, Naina looks at Symin, then nods.
“1616 was the year he killed our parents.”
Naina adds bitterly, “We were eight.”
“Do you think the abductions were stopped when he started hunting you?” Kruga asks.
Salessa shrugs. “He certainly invested substantial resources into finding us. It’s possible those resources were redirected from one goal to another.”
“Yes, it’s possible,” Symin agrees, before continuing. “We worked with the Revolution long after the abductions ceased. There wasn’t much else to live for. Ovida and Gina conquered the ranks and became our Generals. Under their leadership, we attacked Braver facilities and continued to recruit members to the cause.”
“But success would escape us, so long as the Castrum stood,” Kruga says. “We needed to get inside.”
A soft smile plays on Symin’s lips. “That’s when Gina escorted a uniformed Braver into the Revolution’s hidden chambers. The tension was so thick, I thought we’d all suffocate, until the Braver removed his uniform, prostrated before Ovida, and wept.”
“Ray-Mi,” Naina surmises.
Kruga nods. “His connections within the Castrum, particularly Member Sonali, changed everything. She and Ray-Mi provided us with Braver uniforms, schedules, hierarchies, passwords, locations, everything.”
“A number of us infiltrated their ranks, quietly, drawing as little attention as possible,” Symin explains. “All while compiling information on their vulnerabilities and passing it off to the Generals.”
“Was that difficult?” Salessa asks. “To grow close to the Bravers knowing your mission was to betray them?”
Naina scoffs. “You think it would be difficult to betray monsters with bloodstained hands?”
Salessa frowns. “Ray-Mi was one of them. Faeries following orders against their own consciences, to provide for their families.”
“Many Bravers are not malicious,” Kruga explains. “And many are. That uniform empowers faerie supremacy. Their personal character matters little in comparison.”
Salessa nods, acknowledging his perspective.
Symin’s expression dims as he continues. “The infiltration culminated in the Siege of the Castrum. Seven years ago. It was planned as an invasion, but a band of Librarians arrived earlier than expected, so the plan had to change. We besieged the fortress instead, hoping it would force the Bravers into a confrontation in the streets, honoring the Librarians’ immunity.”
“But when the Bravers emerged, they had the ore,” Salessa says.
Kruga nods. “The Castrum gates spread wide and birthed the Ore Monger. He knew this discovery would put an end to the Revolution, make him invincible.”
“The Siege survived two days, until they opened the gates. We had heard about the ore during the mission, but hadn’t realized it was functional, applied to armor and weapons. When they emerged, it was like...” He looks down at his hands.
“Like losing part of your body?” Naina asks.
Kruga shakes his head. “Like losing part of your soul. It was like the day I lost Zynima. The connection to the Radiance was severed so quickly and forcefully, many of the Revolution warriors lost consciousness.”
Symin gently runs his fingers over his forearm scar. “That night, more than half our forces were slaughtered. The rest of us managed to escape, but we’d never experienced anything so physically, spiritually, and emotionally catastrophic before.”
“After the Siege, the Revolution dissolved. Symin and I wanted to find a way to rid the MegaFather of the ore and restore the resistance. Ray-Mi and Gina joined us, but Ovida stayed behind. She said she needed to rest. And we understood.”
“Most of us understood,” Symin corrects him. “Zabeza’s sister, Zakia, was heartbroken by that decision. She asked to join our team in the General’s stead, but she was only thirteen. I refused, until her mother intervened. She trusted us to look after her daughter.”
Kruga laughs. “She trusted Zakia to look after us. Pixie’s a damn prodigy. When she was ten, she used the Radiance to build a track-proof safe house called the Bunker.”
The edge of Symin’s lips curve into a half-smile. “Seven years later, we’re all still looking after each other. We all bring something to the team that contributes to the overall welfare and safety of the group: Zakia’s connection to the Radiance, Ray-Mi’s experience with the Bravers, Kruga’s scientific background, and above all, the dauntless leadership of...”
He falls silent as something ahead of the cart catches his eye. The twins turn to see what it is.
In the distance, a chartreuse-skinned Mega sits on a boulder at the edge of the forest, daggers strapped around her waist. She seems focused and alert, her robust musculature evident beneath tight, tattered rags.
Symin finishes his sentence: “...our General, Gina.”