by Casey Eanes
Adley’s datalink blinked and her eyes widened as she examined the text on the shimmering screen. “Oh, this is good! I’ve been doing some research on the feeds. Looking for the signal level that the Dominion troops are utilizing for military coms. From the dark feeds, there is speculation that many of the ground troops’ frequencies can be accessed from analog receptors for voice communication. Their feeds are shielded from datalink use, though.” She reached for the ancient radio overhead and dialed a knob through channels of static. As the radio screeched and squealed, she smiled. “Let’s see if these dark feed guys are right.” Minutes of pure static went by until the sounds began to coalesce into recognizable forms and patterns. The shadows of speech began to form, and the truck went silent with anticipation. Adley slowed the knob as voices came together, undulating over the static in rapid bursts of static correspondence.
“Setting down in three...” The voices broke out before sputtering back over the radio. “Ten units...” Adley tweaked the knob, but the signal refused to settle. “Seventy-eight percent border locked.”
Grift leaned forward further as the voices dropped in and out on the airwaves.
“King Seam...” A burst of static interrupted the signal again before the final words drifted through the cabin. “Ten hours until siege.”
Adley checked her datalink and gazed up at Wael. “How far are we from Preost? Taluum?”
Luken peered over his shoulder to answer. “Almost two hours to the Preost border. Eight hours at least to Taluum.”
Grift grumbled as he ran numbers through his head. “We aren’t getting any help. Not with the window of time that we have.” He spat and cursed under his breath. “So much for safety in Taluum.”
Adley looked out her window and bit at her thumbnail before speaking back up. “What about our forces in Zenith? What about Willyn and the Reds? Can they converge? Rout Seam’s forces from behind? Maybe buy us some time? If the Grogans rush into Zenith, it might cause Seam to pull back his forces.”
Wael nodded in agreement. “It is worth the chance, though I don’t want their lives sacrificed. We need to get into contact with the Reds. We could request they attack Zenith to draw Seam’s forces back.” Wael glanced out in space and his lips offered a silent prayer before continuing. “Perhaps Willyn has survived Seam’s assault on Bastion’s mirror. We can pray for as much. If she has survived and holds control, we can supply word to her once Seam draws out of Preost so the Reds could fall back.”
Grift barely stifled the laughter that rose from his mouth. “HA! Grogans fall back? Once they have a chance to level Zenith they aren’t going anywhere.”
Wael spoke, his voice grave. “We have to find out the fate of our sister in the Groganlands. If Willyn is well and has garnered her people's support, then we will need her to move quickly. Seam is moving toward Taluum as we speak. If Willyn is compromised…” The word lay heavy in Wael’s mouth, and he grimaced as if it tasted sour. “Then we will have to make a plea to what Red resistance is left. Either way, we need the Grogans.” Wael glanced at Luken, whose face was as pale as a sheet. The monk reached out and placed his giant hand on his shoulder. “We still don’t know that she is dead.” The monk glanced back, his eyes scanning the lot of them. “We need to reach out to the Grogans and garner their support...and whatever other resistances there are in the other Realms. We need them, too. We will need everyone’s support if we are to hold Seam back from the final mirror.”
Adley shook her head as she dialed into her datalink. “I don’t know, Wael. I’ve been trying to establish contact with her for a couple days now and there’s been no response.” Adley flipped through several screens, but each registered a negative response. “She’s off the grid.”
Wael glanced up as a wall of evergreen trees grew in the distance. He sighed and nodded. “We need to hurry then. We don’t have much time to get ready. Adley, once we arrive let’s try one more time to reach out to Willyn and the Red resistance. I have reached out to my friend Bri who accompanied her.” The monk’s face pursed in hard lines. “I’ve gotten no response either.”
The truck lumbered toward the tree line with no military presence in sight. “What percentage border control did they claim on that call, Luken?” Grift asked as he leaned in to scan the horizon.
“Seventy-eight percent.” Luken kept his eyes fixed on the tree line, his pupils darting from side to side, scanning for any sign of a siege.
“We can’t be that lucky. This doesn’t feel right,” Grift said as he reached for his rifle. He shook his head and sat back down. “Nothing feels right anymore.”
As the transport passed beyond the tree line and pressed on for Taluum, shadows and silence filled the cabin.
After an hour of driving, Luken slammed on the brakes, sending the truck into a lurch. Rot let out a few short barks as Grift, Adley, and Wael braced themselves.
“Why are we stopping?” Grift shouted as he climbed back into the front of the truck. “What is going...”
Grift’s mouth dropped open as he looked on at the mass of bodies huddling in front of the truck. A large mob of men, women, and children covered in tattered clothing tried to slowly slink off the path Luken had been following.
“Baggers...” Grift scrunched his face as he tried to get a good look at the few individuals in front of the truck’s headlights. “What are they doing here?”
Wael opened his door and whistled for Rot to follow. “Let me speak with them.”
“I’m coming with you,” said Grift as he followed Wael from the truck and leapt onto the dirt road below.
“Baku!” Wael let out a loud but welcoming yell, holding his hand up with the sign of peace. “Baku! You are safe friends.”
A middle-aged man approached with shaking, open palms outstretched. “Baku?” He kept his head bowed and cowered in Wael’s presence.
Wael placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and spoke with tenderness. “Yes. Baku. I am a friend.” Wael looked over the man’s shoulder and offered a smile to the small party behind him. “Can anyone of you speak the common tongue?”
A young girl stepped forward, her blonde head nodding in the glow of the headlights. Her yellow eyes were wide with fear, but she moved toward Wael, her face covered with a strong dignity. Her miniscule frame was covered only in dirt and a large patchwork of handmade clothes.
Wael stooped down to one knee as Rot panted at his heel, with his tongue hanging from his open mouth. The girl chuckled at the sight of the slobbering mutt, and she timidly reached out to rub Rot’s wet muzzle. The one-eyed beast gladly accepted the attention, and he whined with joy as the girl began to scratch him with no fear.
Wael smiled and addressed the young girl in a gentle tone. “Why are you here, young one?”
The girl paused, and Grift knew she was trying to assemble the few words of common she knew. “The king man. Took everyone.”
Grift knelt next to Wael. “The king man? What do you mean he took everyone?”
Tears welled in the girl's eyes as the Bagger man with her wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Put to train. Everyone leave.”
“How did you get away?” Grift spoke and shared a troubled glance with the Mastermonk.
“No go to desert for work! No one come back. All leave on train. We not go!” The girl twisted her foot in the dirt and sunk into the older bagger’s arms.
“It’s okay, we will not hurt you. You are not in trouble.” Grift reached out his hand and smiled. “I am glad you did not go. Why did you come here?”
The man holding the girl fumbled to piece together an answer. “Hide. Need safe. King bad.”
The girl nodded. “Baggers keep leaving. No reason. Not many now.”
Wael stepped to the truck with Grift and they huddled at the driver’s side window. Luken leaned out. “What’s going on?”
“The girl says they are running from Seam. Baggers keep leaving or disappearing. They are seeking asylum.”
Luken’s face went
blank. He took in a short breath before blinking and shaking his head in disbelief. “Arakiel and Nyx.”
“What, Luken?” Wael drew in closer. “What did you say?”
Luken rubbed at his face and furrowed his brow. “I am afraid Seam is trying to satisfy their appetite, Wael.”
Adley leaned in from the back of the truck and interrupted. “I don’t think we can take them to Taluum. If Taluum is Seam’s target, there’s no way they will be safe.”
Wael nodded. He spoke in the Bagger tongue, gesturing to the people with large sweeping gestures, mimicking the movements and sounds that Grift had seen from the bagger people many times in Lotte. Wael turned and looked at Grift and Adley. “What supplies do we have?”
Adley spoke. “Not much. Except for the Predecessor technology, we’ve got a few rifles, a week’s worth of rations, and a few tents.” Wael circled around the back of the truck and opened the tailgate.
“Give everything to them. I’ve told them to make for the coast, for Elum. They are going to need any supplies we can give them.”
Grift cut in, his face fearful. “The weapons too?”
“The weapons too. They need to protect themselves…”
Luken nodded, his face filling the rearview mirror, glazed with fear. “Seam will not be marching into Taluum with a normal army. These baggers need to get out of here as quick as they can.”
Grift stared at Wael, his eyes searching. Adley spoke what he was thinking. “What’s coming then?”
Luken throttled the engine of the truck and shook his head. “Not here. Not in front of them. We need to give them what they need and move.”
The party handed out all that they could spare and moved out without a goodbye. The truck roared away through the thick forest, leaving the Baggers glowing red with the light of their taillights. Despite all he had been through and all that he knew, Grift spoke a silent prayer for the poor people shambling through the forest, with no aim other than to survive. Aleph, have mercy.
Wael turned and faced Adley behind him. “How far are we from the border, Adley?”
She opened the datalink, scanning the screen that lighted her face in the coming darkness. “From my position, we’re only a half-hour out...maybe more.”
The monk nodded, and he looked at Luken and Grift. “We need to go on foot. We can’t take the chance that Dominion forces will be waiting for us as we get nearer to the border. We can find other transportation once we get inside Preost.”
Luken shook his head. “No, we have to press through. You’ve got to keep the truck, or you’ll never make it in time.”
Grift glanced at Adley, his mind weighing the options. “Could we use the Predecessor tech again?”
Adley shook her head, biting her lip. “Maybe, but there is no telling if it would be ready for when Seam’s forces push in.”
Wael cut in. “We will use that technology only when we have no other choice.” The monk glanced at Luken. “Do you have any alternatives, Luken?”
“We take our chances. I say we push through for the border. If there are Dominion forces, I will take care of them, but you all...you must make for Taluum. You must raise the alarm for all those still loyal to you, Wael.”
Wael nodded, his face grim. “So be it.”
It was the slowest half hour that Grift had ever lived through. In his lap he grasped his rifle, shouldering it with its safety off, ready for whatever was coming. The horizon line of trees was upon them, marking the border into Preost, and Luken shut off the lights as the truck drove through pure darkness.
“Keep your eyes peeled and keep that datalink screen shut, Adley.” Luken peered at the wall of trees that covered the horizon like a thick, black blanket as the truck crossed the threshold into the holy Realm. Its engine echoed off the tall, thick trunks of the ancient grove, as a symphony of nightlife buzzed, howled, and called deep within the darkness. Grift leaned forward and whispered, “Can you see, Luken?”
“Well enough. Just be ready.”
The truck rolled down the dirt road, and Grift felt the land beneath him turn upward. The military convoy swung slowly around the bends carved into the earth, as the starlight above was choked away by the reaching arms of the thickening trees. Wael rolled down the window and breathed in the cool air of his home. Even in the dark, Grift could see Wael smile, his ivory teeth filling his face with joy.
As they rounded the bend, Luken slammed on the brakes. Just beyond them on the pass, the hot white glow of artificial light filled the valley. Luken immediately cut the engine as the truck lurched to a stop.
“Up ahead, do you see them?” Luken’s words came as staccato whispers.
Adley pulled up her binoculars and focused them on the camp below. “I’ve got a visual. Black and gold colors on the convoys. Dominion forces, for sure. I’d guess from the convoys alone, at least twenty are down there.” Adley stared as Grift, Wael, and Luken listened to the dull roar of the chirping nightlife. A low growl began to grow in Rot’s throat, joining the chorus.
“Rot.” Wael’s control over the beast was instant, but the dog let out a gruff whine of protest.
“What else do you see down there, Adley?” Grift questioned. Adley stared through the binoculars, but shook her head. “There’s a small fire and two convoys, but no visual on patrol movement. They might be down for the night…”
The forest exploded with her words, and Grift lifted his rifle up to the white cascading flash that filled the night sky. Wael shielded his eyes, and shouted out orders. “Get out of the car, everyone! Now!”
A second flash of light followed the next as Grift, Luken, Wael and Adley poured out of the truck in a panic. Grift’s body hit the cold ground next to the monk as they both stared down into the outcropping below them. Grift squinted his eyes, trying to make out the unfolding scene.
The small campfire that had only provided a faint red light within the forest erupted, as a third hot flash of light trailed twenty feet into the air. Grift heard screams coming from the grotto below.
“Wael. What the hell is that?” Grift yelled with wide eyes.
Wael stared into the light. “Aleph above. The Desolate...in all my years. The Desolate have reawakened.”
An excruciating heat fell over the company as a new white-hot fire erupted. Luken rolled toward them and screamed over the roar of the flames. “Wael. I can’t be here.”
The monk stood up, his face full of otherworldly fear. “Stay with us, Luken. Trust me!” Wael took a step forward into the forest. The white fire intensified with each step. Grift called out to him, and Adley reached for his robes, but Wael pushed them away. Rot lurched, and Grift barely held the beast back as the monk strode out into the night of growing white fire. Wael reached deep within his robes and pulled out the rune of Aleph. He opened his mouth, his words lost in the growing roar of the ivory inferno.
Grift squinted his eyes, trying desperately to see past the blaze that swirled around Wael. The tall trees around him became dark black pillars, their features swallowed by the all-consuming light. Soon even the shadows of the trees disappeared into the brightness. He scrambled to locate Luken and Adley, but both had disappeared. Even Rot evaporated from his vision despite still feeling the massive beast shaking in his arms.
“All I see is fire. Hot, white fire.” There was no pain, but the presence of the white fire somehow communicated that pain and death were only a breath away from them. Grift’s entire body shook as his hands ratcheted on the dog that he could no longer see, his only tangible evidence that he had not yet died.
Grift heard a voice clamor over the roar of the flames. It was the ancient tongue of the Preost monks. Wael. A chilling cool swept over Grift and black darkness filled his vision. Grift screamed, his fingers clawing into Rot who howled beneath him. “WAEL?! WAEL?!”
“Peace. Peace, Grift. Hold still. You will see again soon. Just wait.” The inky black vision lingered, but Grift’s eyes filled with pinpricks of detail that slowly formed shadows of sh
apes he recognized. “What...what happened, Wael?” Grift’s hands trembled and he loosed his hands from Rot’s fur, reaching out to the shape he knew was Wael. The white flames caused him to fear for more than just losing his life. It was as if those flames could rend through his world and consume everything it desired for its fuel.
Grift blinked and realized that there were tears streaming down his face. Adley hugged him tightly. Luken stood, his face like a white sheet, shaking his head in disbelief.
Wael was amongst them all, his face full of awe and joy. “My friends, we will not protect Preost alone. The forest and its protectors are with us.”
Adley stood, her voice still trembling. “What was that, Wael?”
Wael stood, glancing at Luken, who shirked away from them, his face still confounded with untold emotions.
“They are some of the oldest servants of Aleph. My order has only had scant records of their existence. Primeval elements of pure being, pure life.”
“The Desolate,” Luken spoke, his eyes full of fear. “They that could rend all this world into ash in seconds, if Aleph willed it. Unfallen, pure, and vicious protectors of those they love.”
“Love?” Grift balked, still rubbing his face, wiping away tears that still flowed from his eyes.
Luken nodded as Wael spoke, his voice near a whisper. “There is not much time. We must make for the Taluum. It’s enough to know that the Desolate are at work again. I spoke with them as much as I could. They...spoke. They were alarmed by your presence, Luken.”
Luken nodded and whispered, “Thank you, Wael, for vouching for me. I wasn’t ready to leave Candor. Not that way, at least.”
Wael nodded, his eyes distant and calculating. Adley broke in.
“What about the Dominion forces?”
Grift turned, the feeling of a distant dream returning to his brain. It felt like another lifetime ago. He stared down into the grotto of the thick wood and ran down to the small camp, Rot trailing at his heels.
Piles of ash in neat heaps were scattered across the camp, surrounded by crumpled Dominion uniforms.