Spiral of Silence (The Unearthed Series Book 3)

by Marc Mulero

  Her thin legs shook on her climb up the Nepsys steps.

  Sabin and Volaina exchanged a look as Mars raced down to greet her. A gentle rumble in the wolf’s throat spoke love of a friend. The commanders followed.

  “When I heard your names announced, it brought a smile to my face. I heard stories of the both of you. You are a hero, young man.” She poked the bandages wrapped around Sabin’s abdomen.

  The hunter flinched and Volaina chuckled.

  “Mierda, where does the time go?” the old woman said to herself as she rocked the child.

  “I mean this in the kindest of ways, but do we know you?” Sabin asked.

  Her face curled as if she smelt something rotten, and waved a hand in his face. “This little miracle has a story, but she can’t yet tell it. Her mother passed away during childbirth. You see, we simply didn’t have the tools to save her. Sad, terribly sad.” She shook her nose toward the baby’s face.

  “What about her father?” Volaina asked.

  “Oh, he was a beloved man. A true breaker of chains,” she commended.

  Volaina’s face turned to sorrow.

  The woman looked up to Sabin and said, “This one’s father gave his life for you, or so the story goes.”

  The commanders listened on in silence.

  “He was cherished by our people, you know. Because of him, she was born free from shackles.” She gestured to the baby’s brand-less arm. “Free from assigned names. That’s why, in his honor, we named her Lita.”

  When she made the connection, Volaina’s face froze up, all but for the silent tears thawing down her cheeks. Seeing flashbacks of her Bulchevin friend, his zany goofiness and love for his people… it hurt so bad that she had to share the bittersweet pain with Sabin by scrunching her hand hard over his shoulder, and it traveled. He, too, held back a sob with a hard swallow.

  “I am Chlomara, caretaker of this child and long-time friend to your fallen brother-in-arms. Lito would have wanted this. I feared for this precious thing when she was born. But today, that fear falls away. Gracias, amigos.” She laid her forehead against Sabin’s chest with endearment, and then held Lita up for him to take hold of her.

  “I knew I still had kin left in this world,” Sabin’s voice cracked.

  The three of them huddled around the baby while Mars licked Chlomara. She said something brash and unfit for a lady of Bulchevin, and so they laughed through the tears.

  “What do you want?” Lesh’s tone was harsh as they entered a tower of black and gold.

  Crystalized windows enhanced the luminescence spilling into the hall. Light fixtures made of diamonds were secured against the walls, resembling flowers abloom; no hanging structures in times like this. A dark carpet with elegant beading fanned out, decorating a lavish space larger than either of them had ever known.

  Sabin gestured around. “Cool place, huh? I wanted to show it to you. I’ve never seen anything like it. Back in the old days, I just caught the food for the Hiezers… the servers went to all the ballroom parties, I think.”

  Lesh gave him side-eye. “Does nothing for me.”

  The hunter laughed nervously, while scratching the back of his head. “You know you said some shit back there, when I was on my death bed. I figured, now that I’m still alive and you went through all that trouble to save me, maybe you can let me repay you. Maybe you could take a walk with me once in a while.”

  “You thought wrong, idiot.” Lesh turned to Sabin after giving the room a onceover. “Can we go now? There are dozens of buildings that still need to be searched before this ridiculous ceremony takes place.”

  Sabin stared at her with a big smile across his bearded face. He’d dreamt of her during his time with the Rogues, rehashing their moments, however brief, and held onto the fleeting memories that came into vision when he was shot. He made a promise to himself then, that if he ever recovered, his time would be spent differently. And somewhere beneath the steel casing surrounding Lesh’s heart, he knew his realizations were shared.

  “I told you once on the roof that life was too short, and I’ll tell you again, but this time, on one knee.” The hunter winced as he held the bandages around his abdomen, making his way to the floor.

  Staring on with half-closed eyes, Lesh was unamused.

  He whipped out a box from under the covering of his half-cloak and opened it slowly to present a unique ring inside. The metal was curved and sharp, condensed and radiant. It was perfect for the assassin.

  She didn’t think so.

  “Lesh… hmm, no last name since you’re a Sin. Lesh,” he repeated, “the assassin. Will you-”

  She slapped the ring right from his hand.

  “But,” Sabin’s mouth hung open. “I had it custom welded from my old String Bla-” An open-palm strike to the face cut him short.

  From her knife ring, Lesh pulled a blade and held the point under his chin, forcing the hunter back to his feet. She was pissed. Harsh eyes met smiling ones. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Have you lost your damn mind?”

  The hopeless idiot went in for a kiss, only to have his shoulders grabbed and his gut caved in by her knee.

  “There’s a knee for you, jackass,” she said on her way out of the hall, kicking the ring further out of reach. “Fucking idiot.”

  Sabin gasped with laughter and pain. That’s why he loved her, after all. He got back to his feet before she left, and tried again. “How about dinner? Would that be so terrible?”

  She halted her step and turned her head slightly. “No,” she said plainly.

  He raised his eyebrows along with his shoulders as if to say, “I tried.”

  “But I have always wanted to catch my own food,” she stated after a long pause, still facing the exit. “Maybe you can take me hunting. Just once.”

  Sabin flung his fist into the air and mouthed, “Yes!” He looked around to share the moment with Mars, but then remembered he was with Volaina. Nonetheless, he carried on with his silent cheering.

  The assassin turned back for a second, feeling the wind of Sabin’s flailing at her back. She caught him try and regain composure, and then rolled her eyes again before continuing out… this time though, she wore a smile.

  Always gotta start high. Always start high!

  Bells sounded far and loud.

  Dong. Dong.

  The distant bellows kickstarted a cheering crowd in the distance. Feet stomping shook the ground like a quake tremor, screaming could’ve been confused with the same. But it wasn’t… this was something else.

  Blood had been mopped from the streets, bodies respectfully buried, all paving way for a different kind of march. The once imperial enclosure that was Nepsys now beamed with life on all fronts, of all sorts. This was a celebration. The ceremony had begun.

  Bulchevins led the festivities with a parade of dancing: Sin marks blazing, bright faces lighting the morning sky. Flamboyant tribal wear swooshed in unison, bongos drummed in rhythm with an old Latin beat. It was beautiful. Glorious. So much so that mourning had to be put on hold, at least for now.

  Blague, however, was far away, watching from high atop the gates all alone. It’d been days of reflection - deep thought and what have you - but in this moment he couldn’t help but forget as he gazed upon the spectacle.

  Cherris clapping to the rhythm with children all around her was so pure, so sublime, that it forced a grin on his face, and it stayed too when he looked to her right. There was Volaina, daring to dance and smile, her long hair gleaming in the wind as she spun.

  Lesh walked opposite the parade with no sense of cheer in her, checking to make sure all havens were safe. And Sabin tried his best to drag her into the middle to join in on the fun, but was met with demonic eyes.

  What else was there to do but laugh at the sight, to enjoy the antics from afar?

  It still wasn’t time to make his public appearance. Not yet.

  Then out of nowhere, a snap sounded from behind, startling him to turn. “What t
he… there’s an elevator right there.” Blague pointed to his left.

  Two cloaked figures stepped off of their Cryos platforms and onto the grand gates beside their adept.

  Aslock pushed back his hood. “You have done it, Blague. You freed your people.”

  Blague rose up. “We all had a part to play. This war was bigger than the Sins, and Mulderan was more dangerous than we ever could’ve imagined.”

  Valor cleared his throat, ignoring the pleasantries. “Felicity had this crafted for you. You aren’t an Elder, far more training awaits you for that title. But you are something else, something that we are not.” The tall warrior presented an ivory mantle laying across his arms. “In honor of your father, the Defiant. Take this gift as a token of admiration. You will always be part of us, even if your commitments are not to the Citadel.”

  Blague allowed Valor to slide the sleeves up his arms and lift the cover over his shoulders. There was a likeness to that of the Society’s cloaks, even though the colors were opposite and the length was less dramatic. In his new attire, the Ardian began to resemble a wise sage - hair white as snow, eyes deep set and brooding. He was a different man than when the war began. Love, loss, and madness dawned their effects, and now his cloak solidified his transformation.

  A hand extended to meet the Ohndian’s. “It’s an honor, Valor.”

  Valor gripped back and covered their seal with his other hand; Blague imagined a smile under his shadowing hood. The Neraphis then leaned in and said, “I look forward to our next skirmish, whenever that may be.”

  Blague cackled. “So do I,” he said before turning to Aslock. “You are more than a mentor, Elder. You are a friend.” He forced a hearty hug.

  Aslock smiled, taken aback by the strange show of thanks. His hands were frozen for a minute, then finally returned the embrace with a pat on Blague’s back.

  They disengaged.

  Aslock looked up to Valor and back to Blague. “Rol was beginning to plague the entire city. It was creeping up to the gates, when all of a sudden it was pulled back. Its weight appeared heavy, warping your brother’s residence with the both of you inside. You buried it… you must have. You buried him.”

  “All the way down to the center of the earth,” he spoke literally. “Mulderan’s den was filled with lifetimes of tyranny. He caused the Global Quakes. Both of them.”

  The Neraphis gazed back with puzzlement. Sounds of disbelief escaped their mouths.

  “I will explain everything, in time.” He bowed to his Elders and decided he needed to address his commanders. “Extend my gratitude to Halewyn. I hear he saved many lives.”

  The Sin Leader made his way for the elevators, still warm with the support of friendship. Even the most secluded of his allies participated in his quest for freedom. But his smile faded, for someone he held dear had been silent since Mulderan’s death.

  “Speak to me, Elaina. What is it?”

  Blague tried to tug on their Ardian connection somehow, but he was blocked, and he couldn’t figure out why. He shook his head and continued on his way.

  The loudness of the parade drew his focus. Templos marched alongside the Terras. Gadgets whirled around them. Drones spun in the air, shooting off fireworks in a fan of alternating colors. Lights flashed and robotics swiveled around tracks. It was a lavish show, to say the least.

  Not too far from the commotion, near the entranceway of one of the fortresses, was Cherris – hunched over and guiding the children around her to caretakers. She was mouthing something to a child close in her ear, she kept looking back and forth and pointing to make sure she acknowledged. What a cute kid - cheeks so full they could burst at any second, eyes so big they looked pumped with air. But when she scurried off, Cherris caught something in her eye that suddenly made her clench a hand around her garb in shock. She raised to stand straight, catching a glimpse of someone.

  It didn’t matter that his appearance had changed. She knew that walk. It was Blague! He was back! Blague was back.

  And so she hustled down the steps and on to the gold-rimmed streets.

  Sabin froze and squinted in bafflement as he held onto one of the hilts of Lesh’s knives strapped to her back. A slap found his face and snapped him out of it.

  “Would you cut it out?” her voice cracked with rasp.

  “That’s Blague…” he whispered and pointed.

  They rushed over to meet him. Sabin was the first to slam him with a hug before quickly backing off, still hurting from his wounds.

  “Take it easy, overlord,” Blague grinned.

  Lesh folded her arms, ignoring the two idiots who loved to joke with each other every time they were together, and instead looked him up and down to judge his new look. “Hmph, suits you,” she nodded her approval.

  “I’ll take it,” Blague nodded back in thanks.

  The matriarch slowed her jog as she approached the old gang, huffing and puffing to catch her breath while pushing past the assassin and hunter like they were of no importance. She only had eyes on one man right now, pressing her hand to Blague’s face. Her thumb brushed over his cheek. “You’re starting to look your age. Still, somehow, since the day I met you all of those years ago, your skin is that of a young man’s. Ayelan is kind. Bless you.”

  “We knew you were hiding somewhere with the ghost pirates. You’re getting weird in your old age,” Sabin joked.

  Blague squinted his eyes hesitantly. “Did you hit your head?”

  “He means the Neraphis,” Lesh corrected.

  The two laughed.

  Ignoring the antics of her comrades, Lesh turned to Cherris and asked where Milos was.

  “Snuck off in the night with Kentin. All of their things are gone. I’m assuming they won’t be returning for a while. But they did leave you this.” She extended her arm for Lesh to grab the note.

  It read:

  “Now it’s our turn for a badass adventure. Don’t worry, we’ll call if in trouble.” A drawing of one of Lesh’s knives stuck out in the corner.

  The assassin smirked at Cherris. “You seem entirely too calm about this.”

  “Well, boys will be boys. Besides, I may or may not have called Telfice to keep a bird’s eye on them.” She winked.

  Through all the chatter, Sabin hit Blague’s shoulder on the side. “Good to have you back, boss man. We were worried there for a moment, well uh, ehem, not me but you know, uhh, these two, they were scared.”

  Everyone turned to face their leader, and Sabin definitely expected a laugh there, but for some reason didn’t get it.

  Lesh read the quietness that followed, and actually sounded a bit somber when she said, “You’re not staying, are you?”

  Blague paused, before eventually shook his head. “I… have some things to figure out.”

  She nodded, fully understanding since she had been through some strange experiences of her own. But the others… they were clearly disturbed at the realization, it showed on each of their faces.

  He pointed over to the large dais of white marble to break the tension, high above the main street, to the spot where the parade forked and led to the residential streets. Who was he pointing at? Oh, those two: Biljin and Melissa, both standing tall with their Tribunal towering above the rest.

  “Watch them for me, in my absence. They have the intelligence and experience, but they don’t have this.” Blague pointed to Sabin’s heart. “Without the three of you balancing them, I imagine humanity would grow to live in a very cold place.”

  Sabin looked to the ground in disappointment. “Is there any way we can convince you to stay? A rocking chair maybe? A sponge bath?”

  “Hah, bastard,” Blague’s grin was contagious, but then a moment of silence followed in mourning of their last lighthearted gathering. “You’ll be fine leaders in my absence… hell, you have been. Stay young for me, okay?”

  Sabin jabbed a scolding finger inches from the Sin Leader’s face. “I swear, if the next time I see you is when I’m a shriveled old man han
ging over a cane and yapping about my regrets…”

  Blague smiled at the reference to Aldarian while holding out his hand. “Goodbye, old friend.”

  “Later, buddy,” Sabin clasped his friend’s forearm.

  Blague looked to Volaina laughing in the distance. “She looks beautiful. At ease. She’s found what I seek.”

  Cherris craned her head. “It was a hard road for her.”

  “It will be for us all. Keep her and Drino close to your sides. They are your family. Give them a salute for me.” The Sin Leader turned slowly, a hand of farewell lingering in the air.

  Eventually, he faded beyond the parade and into solitude, into a place where the city of walls drowned out the celebration. He needed this… a chance to internalize this closure. To make peace.

  He leaned his back against a partition, far away from commotion, far away from his friends and allies, far away from duty. And it was there where a flood of memories funneled into his mind…

  Memories of Elaina finding out she was pregnant. Emotions of confusion, happiness, despair, all of what she once felt filtering through his body at once. Visuals of the Hiezer doctor congratulating her, and then a fast-forward of the same man beside Mulderan - the devil himself still haunting from beyond the grave. Of course, a monologue about the greater good followed, about how she had to be confined so others can persevere.

  Tears, protest, angst. It counted for nothing.

  Blague knew how tough it must’ve been to endure this travesty alone. It was a blessing, truly, that Elaina had finally chosen to share the pain that she had bottled deep within her for all those years.

  He retreated from the physical realm. His eyes darted back and forth as he became lost in what could have been. The woman that he’d seen as Rol sunk to the depths… that was who his daughter would’ve become, had she lived.

  He took a long breath, forcing out the terrors that just barged in. His pain shifted to that of his love’s. To harbor such a travesty alone was among his greatest fears.

  “My work for humanity is done. Now, Elaina, we will suffer and mend together, as we were meant to in our dreams. Share this burden of loss. Take my hand and join me wherever this leads… please… I’m here for you. Let the rest of our story, be ours.”