Spiral of Silence (The Unearthed Series Book 3)

by Marc Mulero

  Silence. Uneasiness. When outdoors, it looked like the whole world had already ended, sure. But seeing this map triggered something else – that the world they held true for decades changed again… and so soon. How much time could they possibly have left here? Was the planet truly dying?

  The Champion’s metallic leg clicked as she lifted out of her chair, pointing to various locations encircled by the map’s maker. “Quarantine markers?”

  “It appears so.”

  She grunted, switching over to those areas most familiar to her, until landing on one that nearly took her breath away: a designation for her longstanding Tribunal chamber. “Even the Dactuars can’t escape it. Have the Hiezers gone mad?”

  Biljin’s arms were spread wide, looming over the table with fingertips clawed over its edges. “You’re missing the point, Melissa. This map is gold. We can formulate a viable strategy with these Quarantine markers and navigate around the most dangerous areas of the world.” His dark, bald head reflected light like he was wearing a crown. “We can gain powerful allies if we play our hand right.”

  “Hm.” She lurked in exploration of the eastern hemisphere, likely wondering what could happen if they succeed. “The harder the Hiezers tighten their grip, the greater our chances of toppling their rule. Isn’t that right, Biljin? Think of me – the most loyal at one point in time. Now imagine how others, less so, must feel. We must begin to think of creating a new democratic order, rather than just combating enemies. The Sins have already broken the golden chains. Now they must do more. With me, they must do more.” She punched the map at the perfect location. “Help me free the rest of the world, so that it can be restored.”

  Formidable thoughts. A lesser mind always has the ability to surprise, I suppose.

  “How far the top can sway, if just tipped in the right direction,” Biljin smirked sarcastically.

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “I’m not. I would never,” he lied. “These are good tactics, but have you considered how to extrapolate them – these ideas – into reality? Because I have. And I’m certain that this order can only be achieved by demonstration.” He balled his hand into a fist. “We have to break the fear that Quarantine has instilled. Just once.” He unhooked his index finger, and then slowly circled it around the Vacal city he’d once visited. “Show your people what you now represent, Melissa. Show them how you can rise above tyranny.”

  The Champion’s eyes glimmered; reading the number of Hiezer enforcers stationed in the city revealed a fault in their plan. She noted that the city was too far and wide to be contained by such a small number of guards. “A weak spot…”

  “Precisely,” Biljin responded.

  A Sin fighter suddenly burst into the room, drawing both of the ordained commanders’ attention toward the door. The exile was sweating and out of breath, holding a tarnished radio in his grip. He threw his hands up in apology for the intrusion and then placed the communicator on the map, not saying a word.

  Biljin raised an eyebrow and picked up the device. “Yes?”

  A voice came through, muffled to mask its identity. “Are you so naïve to think that the map you’re looking at was won? No, exile, this was a gift...”

  The commanders exchanged a look of surprise.

  “My time is short, so listen. The highlords are wise to the flaw in the Vacal city. I’ve pulled as many troops as possible from this location, which means your window of attack is closing.”

  Melissa continued to stare at the physicist. “A Hiezer turncoat? This could just as easily be a trap…”

  Biljin reached for the device and held down the button. “How can we trust you? Give us some sort of sign of good faith.”

  A muffled laugh replied to his demand. “You can’t, and I have. This map is the key to your success.” The shielded voice lowered to a whisper. “The king and queen have gone mad. I can no longer stand by them. Take this gift, or don’t. The choice is yours.” The voice cut out and only static remained.

  Melissa set her mug down on a wooden stand beside them, staring at it without seeing, lost in what had just occurred. Then a lightbulb, everything catching up at once. She reached for her massive shield. “Your interruption is forgiven, soldier. Thank you for your service,” she dismissed the Sin and swung around.

  “Biljin.”

  “Of course. It all makes sense,” he murmured. “Why else would we be granted these strokes of ‘luck,’ because of some grand puppeteer at the helm of all of this?”

  “Biljin!”

  “Hm?”

  “Perhaps we should question Volaina’s spy to gain a better sense of the situation.” Melissa grabbed her armor. “Because it sounds very much like this person wants us scrambled and in a rush.”

  The physicist shook his head. “Think. Before the Hiezer traitor said a word, he knew we would use his gift to our advantage. If he set a trap, it would have been through silence… using only this map. His contacting us was for a different purpose entirely. He wanted to let us know we have an ally somewhere at the top. He wants us to win.”

  Biljin walked for the door and turned his head before exiting. “You’re a rebel commander now. I’ll need you to start thinking like one.”

  Melissa was impervious to the typical arrogance coming from “smooth hands” – people green in the field of battle. Working for Hiezer generals and politicians earned her the thickest skin in the hierarchy, and so she walked up next to him and responded in kind. “I’ve seen you fair in battle. The term commander must be loosely defined in this rebellion.”

  For a moment, two serious sets of eyes burned into one another’s, but it was clear they were both in agreement, and holding back a laugh for that matter. It seemed their forging friendship was to be built on knocks off of each other. So be it.

  Together, they descended down four sets of marble stairs, with a view of the busy main floor below them.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “Volaina, the Commander of Espionage, has lost her will to live. Lito, the demolitionist, met a most unfortunate end, just when he was finding his own. And Sabin, our wildcard hunter, has left to take his father’s place as head of the Templos Rogues.

  “Rodest, our technology rat, is tucked in a corner admitting newcomers into our community and working to keep our communications in line. A smart man, but too green to be trusted with anything of substance. He is the protégé of the late Commander Briggs, who was revered as the best of us. Shoes that he will never fill,” Biljin said plainly.

  They ventured through the working floor once making it down the stairs. Melissa noted that not everyone’s arm was branded. The other factions had begun to trickle in after the Quake, finding refuge through a thinly threaded game of telephone.

  “Eugene… the most skeptical of us, and Blague’s appointed right-hand. He has forsaken the Sins, and not for the first time. It’s a wonder he maintained his position for as long as he did. But you’ve heard the mysterious old man - apparently your brother had some role to play in all of this.”

  Melissa nodded as she watched thieves and good Samaritans working together, feeling like this could be a place for new beginnings, where people weren’t defined by their past mistakes.

  “Telfice is another scout commander like my former self. He keeps a watchful eye through his birds and lookouts, always looming and providing protection. You know where Lesh and Blague have gone, and where we’re about to go. So that leaves one person to take watch… someone that you’ve worked with before. Ex-general Drino.” Biljin stopped at the foot of the training room’s massive doors.

  Loud shouting on the other side was accompanied by the pummeling of flesh against the ground – it may as well have been an anthem for who he’d just announced. Heat from an active facility seeped through the cracks like a house that was aflame. She could smell it – all of the exertion – sweat, fear, molding of mind and body. It brought her back to a life that she’d once partaken in, and it was exhilarating.


  Biljin signaled to the Sin guarding the door, and he worked to open it.

  The two then walked into Drino’s arena appearing as nobles from another land. Floors were slick with a mess of sweat and blood beneath their feet. The odor wafting around was pungent like a used gym with a hint of metallic, blood particles lost in the air.

  “The training wheels are off in here, aren’t they?” Melissa could tell by the lathered bodies being tossed, the good form of those still standing, bruises of all sorts that matched their Cryos marks. All of it. Her regal stature made her appear as though she should detest such savagery, but instead, she felt welcomed by it.

  There he was, the ex-general, standing behind two cadets working to open each other’s skulls.

  “I’m having second thoughts. Perhaps we shouldn’t leave the fate of the Sins in this… man’s hands,” Biljin made note of the brutality.

  “Oh come now, Biljin,” the Champion smacked his back hard, grinning. “There’s no one better.”

  “I could think of a hundred off the top of my head,” Biljin exhaled with concern.

  She just scoffed, refusing to slow her walk in adherence to his apprehension and instead made her presence known.

  Clack. Clack. Clack. Two flat metal heels clapped against the floor.

  Drino’s ears perked up. He turned his head slightly, sniffed like a bull and then resumed his duties. His bare arms flexed when he decided to intervene in the cadets’ brawl. It was as if the whole arena had stopped when Drino grasped an unfortunate trainee’s winding fist and held it back. Wham. His opponent got in a free blow. Embarrassing and brutal. The man with a fresh bruise felt so betrayed, so dazed, that he turned with his fist already mid-air again to strike his commander. Big mistake. Drino’s elbow clobbered his jaw.

  The cadet immediately whipped upright, eyes bulging, cheek pulsing red, hands quickly crossed behind his back. “Sir!” he shouted.

  This was a hard lesson, one that neither cadet was a stranger to.

  Drino’s scars pulled to follow his frown. “You think my rules will hold you up when we’re on the battlefield? Hm? Do you? Tell me you’re not that stupid,” he scolded the angry cadet. “You think focusing only on the duel in front of you will keep you alive?” He laughed, “You think showing your dominance, gaining my appreciation, will mean anything out there? Sure, you were winning your little contest, I’ll give it to you, but continue waiting for my approval and you will be the first to die on the frontlines.”

  “Sir!” was all the cadet said in return.

  Drino pushed him hard with one hand and took an aggressive step to follow him. “I will break you down, so when your instincts drive you in war, they won’t betray you.” Bending forward, his hard-bitten face was inches away from the training Sin’s. “You will see more than one enemy when you’re out there. A soldier of mine will not walk out onto the battlefield with blinders on. Know your surroundings at all times.” A strong finger pointed at his victim’s face to emphasize his point. He then pulled back and said, “Carry on,” before turning to address his guests.

  The Champion couldn’t help but retain a smile, recalling her prior dealings with the madman in front of her. “I see you’ve dragged all of your experience down here with you.” She glanced quickly at the brand on his arm.

  Drino followed her eyes with disgust and flexed his arm again. “This symbol represents more than you’ve ever stood for. And, Champion Brink, you have gone soft.”

  “We will see who’s soft by the end of this, I’m sure,” she challenged. “But, for now, we’re here to ask you a favor.”

  Blague revisited the wide stone room where his Neraphis training had started a time ago. He didn’t very much like being reminded that he had much to learn. Him… an old man, by Old World standards at least, with a long way still to go? It was the last thing he wanted to hear. But alas, he was still trapped in a young body, still blessed with youth.

  Get over it, he told himself. You would die an accomplished man in an ordinary life, but just as an infant in this new one. Elaina is with me, what else can I ask for after all of this time?

  Aslock circled around him, bathed in the odd, almost heavenly cerulean light from the Cryos lit ceiling. He studied his adept calmly – anxious breathing patterns analyzed, muscles tense like he was enduring torture. Why? He was safe here. Tranquility was so far from this Ardian that he was worried Blague would turn out much like his father. No balance. Always tilted in his own direction – either entranced or on the move.

  The Elder knew what had to be done to break the cycle. And what’s more, years would lapse between training stages in a normal situation. Unhurried as the Neraphis usually were, that cycle too had to be broken, for seeing Halewyn nearly crippled by the smoke meant that even this ancient study might not be enough to save the Sin Leader in his trials to come. But he had to try.

  Aslock knelt down and slapped the stone floor at the room’s center.

  Snap.

  With a flash of blinding light, Cryos burst from his tracked veins and swirled at his feet. His fingers were clawed, trembling, straining to hold the substance in place and manipulate it to his will.

  At first, he rose slowly, pulling a funnel of sapphire energy from the ground like some magician who managed to trap the lightening. The stream wriggled in place as it followed his palm to stabilize. And when it did, he offered Blague a knowing look, one that said “The reaping of inner peace,” before he suddenly whipped his arm up toward the slithering light overhead, where the stream of blue raced to follow its wielder’s direction. It reached high above until it fused between floor and ceiling, creating an ethereal line separating the two.

  “What is the meaning of all of this?” Blague asked anxiously. “Shouldn’t we be determining what our next course of action should be regarding the smoke? It took over my friend, Elder… it cost lives for f-”

  “Breathe, Blague,” Aslock counseled as he perused around the still beam. His elegant black battle-cloak swished around in between strides, slowing the room’s tempo in hopes to calm him. The silver lining that stretched across his mantle reflected the chemical’s flare, bouncing the beam’s light with every step.

  “Watch me.” He then syphoned a small strand of Cryos from the beam by merely stretching his arm. It bowed to him, listened to him, before he released it back in the same quick gesture. “These abilities that you have acquired, they will not balance themselves, Blague. Never. To have these chemicals fall into place would be akin to gravity reversing so that you would fall into the sky. Impossible, pointless to imagine. So then, the obvious surely should be evident - that you must train here, with me, in the now, if you are ever to conquer anything beyond the normal. You know it to be true.”

  Blague’s lips tightened. He wanted to protest so badly, the wrinkles creasing on his oily face spoke for themselves. He stirred to concentrate, begged for his mind to cease the war within it so they could move on.

  “Your last visit here came with much greater distress, Blague. My love, relax,” Elaina’s voice was like a silk blanket wrapping him. “The rebellion is gaining traction, so trust them. And I’m here with you now. We will find whatever Aslock wants us to, together.”

  Blague’s tension suddenly dispersed, reversing stress in an instant. He was better off and he knew it to be true. But then why did everything feel so off?

  “You are right Elaina… but Lito, Briggs, my brothers, true brothers… they’re gone because of me.”

  “Not because of you. They died for a great cause. For the Sins. For freedom.”

  The Neraphis whipped another violent rush of energy to the front of Blague’s face to compel him back to his practice, startling his student, before hauling it back again.

  “Tell Elaina I say hello,” Aslock said sarcastically. “Do not be bashful now… no, no need to shake your head, call her forth.”

  Blague straightened, stunned that he was called out like that, as if his Elder could see into his mind’s eye. He guess
ed that it was a result of countless years of being so practiced, so disciplined within this strange environment of duality.

  “Good. Now, the both of you, will you join me here, in this moment? Or will you succumb to everything that weighs you down? I wonder,” he turned his back to the Sin on his roundabout, “I really do wonder.”

  “We are with you, Aslock.” Blague’s breathing slowed.

  “We will see,” he cleared his throat. “Forget your father’s agenda, believe that Lesh is in good hands, and trust in your commanders to protect your people.” He stepped closer to Blague, rolling one hand over the other, smoothly pulling another string from the nucleus of energy like he was winding a ball of yarn.

  He then pulled the Cryos into his open hands. “Both of you, pull from this stream and master your handling of this matter,” he challenged, letting the swirling substance escape back into the funnel at the center of the room.

  “With me, love. Let’s strengthen our bond,” Elaina said, her soothing voice echoing in her partner’s ears.

  Blague closed his eyes. His skin was boiling from obsessive thoughts of old, but Elaina’s phantom touch slid down his arms like snow over fire. Swirling, soothing energy meshed with the rage piling in, all working to summon what they sought. Cryos crawled from his mark faster than the time before, belting around his limbs and down his body. They were proud in this moment, like when a rehearsed speech comes out even better than practiced. It cycled, built, rounded and rounded.

  “We are ready,” Blague said confidently, just moments from releasing all of the energy in a grand display, “to show our Elder how far we’ve come.”

  But then out of nowhere, as Blague snapped back his hands, so too did the funnel, mimicking a shot straight at the Sin Leader’s chest that bolted through him and knocked him harshly off his feet and onto his side.