by T. C. Edge
His words don't help either. To Gailen, they must sound like nonsense, as though we have been brainwashed, manipulated into doing terrible, evil things.
He begins floating toward us, his arms lifting in our direction. The air wraps them up violently, just as the fires do our own when preparing to attack. I glance at Elian. He knows what I'm saying. Together, we quickly work to strengthen our shield, to focus our power there, and save the rest for a speedy descent.
"Remember what happened in New Haven, Gailen," Elian goes on. "Do you remember?" His words are impassioned, calling loud enough for Gailen to slow. "We were going to be forced to burn down the entire city, kill tens, maybe even hundreds of thousands of innocent people. Do you think that was right? The coalition are not trying to do the same here. They only have specific targets. You know it deep down. You are too good, too smart, not to..."
"Careful," I whisper, speaking through my teeth. "Don't mention who those targets are. Don't mention the Prime..."
I realise the folly of my own words, just as they spill from my stupid mouth. I forget, sometimes, how multi-gifted Gailen is. I forget that, among his many powers, he has the gift of augmented hearing.
My breath catches in my lungs as I look at him, as I realise what I've done. I see his eyes widen, then narrow, his lips drawn back into a snarl. An energy begins to gather around him, his rage about to explode as that primal instinct to protect the Prime, to kill anyone who threatens them, erupts from within.
I look to Elian. He knows already.
"GO!" I shout
We turn, looking right towards the camp, and begin firing ourselves that way. I feel the power behind me, the wild flow of energy rushing up at our feet. A sudden wind hits us, causing us to veer violently off to one side. I glance back and see Gailen in hot pursuit, swinging his arm as he controls the wind, trying to knock us out of the skies.
The camp rushes up quickly, as the mists continue to disperse below. I can see, now, the carnage, the bodies, the devastation around the northern edge of the camp. Hundreds. Hundreds have fallen. Hundreds of men in silver armour litter the lands below.
Another violent gust of wind hits us, blowing us apart. I reach out and try to grab Elian, but feel the connection weaken as he tumbles away. I watch, terrified, as his fires suddenly flicker and puff smoke, about to go out. He loses his coordination completely, rushing down into the camp and smashing straight into one of the Neoroman tents in a violent, bone crunching landing.
"Elian!" I cry out.
I try to go after him, praying he's OK, but find Herald Gailen swooping in front of me, his face like thunder as he claps his hands together, and the winds crash into me from both sides. My eardrums almost burst from the deafening noise, my head shaking violently in my skull. I just about manage to right myself, turning my eyes down again as they blur, searching for somewhere safe to land and escape.
I can't see much, my eyes watering. I focus only on the sea of red that my eyes make out, knowing I'll be safer trying to head into those tents, find some cover, find some aid.
I drop again, just as Gailen pulses after me, swirling his hand around the skies now, drawing up another tornado to try to ensnare me from below. I'm able to escape it, but only just, blinking away the dew in my eyes as I fire myself out of range...
I don't make it far. Suddenly, I feel a strange pressure seeming to grip at my legs, pulling them together, slowing me down. I turn back again, and find Gailen closing in, his hand outstretched and fingers bunching tight, gripping me with his telekinetic powers.
What can't he do! I roar to myself in despair.
The internal rage boils in me, and I find further reserves in the depths. The fires rise and spread, and I let them pulse from my core, hot enough somehow to burn off his telekinetic grip, weaken it sufficiently for me to shoot away. I fly with more purpose suddenly, though my anger forces another foolish step. With a renewed swelling of energy, I grow overconfident, turning to unleash a wave of flame at my pursuer.
He dodges it easily, swooping up on the wind, and brushes the fire aside with a casual flick of his hand.
Foolish, Amber, I call out in self-rebuke. You'll never beat him like this. You have to get away!
I follow my rational advice and turn, dropping lower, seeking somewhere to land once more. I move away from the centre of camp, however, not wanting to draw him towards the command tent, arching away to the east. As I do, I see more soldiers coming from there, arriving from the eastern blockade. Down outside the base now, the Olympians seem to be in retreat, their cover evaporating fast, their advantage snatched away.
It gives me a little more hope, more energy, as I begin to falter, hoping Gailen will just give up and leave, hoping he'll fly off home. I try to make for the incoming soldiers, but my flames suddenly begin to chug and wheeze, like an old man with a smoking habit, taking his dying breaths.
I begin to fall into a descent, one I could hardly even call controlled. I hold my shield together, needing what remains of it against Gailen's rage, and prepare for a heavy landing. The earth rushes up, a scattering of tents nearby. I just about glimpse the sight of a few Neoroman soldiers there, chasing off the retreating Olympians as they go.
The ground rushes up fast, and I try to turn my body upright, pulsing hard from my legs to land and set into a run. I hit the earth on my feet, but the impact is still heavy, forcing me to tumble forward to the floor. I reach out to break my fall, my shield holding up and protecting me from injury as I do.
Twisting, panting, and fearing for my life, I turn and scramble to my feet...
Only to find Gailen dropping into a beautiful landing before me.
He does so with such calm and control, stepping out of the vortex as it fades away into the misty air. The motion is in contrast to the hate in his eyes, the sheer will to see me to the grave. I counted him as a friend before, just as I know he did me. Yet here he is now, desperately trying to kill me.
And all in the name of the Prime.
He approaches, his eyes only for me, reaching out with a hand. I feel his telekinetic grip take a hold of me, closing in around my arms, my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. He looks at me, staring into my eyes, still a good ten metres back. I blink through the tears, trying to say something, tying to make him see reason, but my words come up as nothing but rasping noises, unintelligible even to his ears.
Slowly, surely, I feel the life crushed from out of me, nothing left in me to fight with. The tears clear, and I search his face, pleading with my eyes, if not my words. I notice some conflict in him, something causing him to pause. The anger seems to fade off for a moment, his granite expression softening.
And then, from the side, a resounding voice comes.
"You don't need to do this, Gailen."
I weakly turn my neck, to see Perses striding forward. He moves with a slow confidence, careful, as if dealing with a wild beast. A single hand slowly lifts, his palm facing out in a pacifying gesture.
"Let her go," he says. "Let her go, and I will give you the same courtesy."
I see Gailen's eyes flash with something. A fear, perhaps. A profound respect, even. He looks at Perses, that conflict only growing. He cannot speak, of course, but I know he wants to ask why.
Why are you fighting for them, Perses? those expressive eyes of his ask. Why have you betrayed us?
Slowly, I feel the grip on me begin to weaken, enough to allow my breathing to ease.
"None of this feels right to you, does it, Gailen?" asks Perses, peering at him, reading him. "I know you. I know you like a brother. I can see the confusion in your eyes." He takes a small step forward. "Release her fully, and return to Olympus. In time, you will understand why I am doing what I am. In time, you will see."
Gradually, the invisible force gripping at me relents. I drop to my knees, breathing hard, as Gailen takes a slow step backwards. I feel the wind beginning to pick up, swirling slowly around him. He continues to stare at Perses, shaking his head, looking
so confused.
"Do you trust me, Gailen?" Perses asks him, before he flies away. "Have I ever led you astray?"
Slowly, Gailen shakes his head.
"Then trust me now," Perses continues. "It will all become clear in time."
The two men continue to look at one another for an extended moment, before the winds suddenly grow more violent. The vortex returns, coiling around Gailen's legs. He offers Perses a final look, before turning to me once more. I see his eyes change again, remembering his rage, driven by his impulse to protect the Prime. And staring at me still, the winds churn and flow, and he soars up into the air, flying northward toward the city.
Perses steps over and pulls me to my feet. I find myself feeling weak, emotionally unstable. I hold it together, though, not willing to break. "Will your words make a difference?" I ask him, my voice a little fractured. "Will he even remember them in the days to come?"
"There is no way to tell," Perses rumbles. He lays a comforting arm around my shoulder. "You mentioned the Prime, didn't you?" he asks.
I nod, weak. I don't want to speak.
"He may come after you again," he says, his words ominous. "If he continues to see you as a threat to the Prime. You must be wary of this, Amber. I will try to look out for you, as much as I can."
"I shouldn't need it," I croak. "It's only because my energy is low. Elian and I, we..."
My words tumble off, my mind suddenly taken by concern. I look off towards the west, my eyes frantic.
"What is the matter?" Perses asks.
"Elian, he...he fell. I don't know if he's OK..."
I begin stumbling off, but feel Perses's hand cling to my shoulder. "He's fine, Amber, he's quite all right. I saw him land, and walk away. He's probably more worried about you, than you are of him."
I let out a heavy breath of relief, thinking that impossible. He smiles down at me, such a paternal expression on his stubbled face. "You took out the Skymasters, didn't you?" he asks. "You and Elian?"
I nod, too weary to take any praise.
"That was quick thinking, Amber. You saved a lot of lives."
I continue to nod, my eyes threatening to fall shut. My stores have been completely and utterly drained.
"You need to rest." Perses's words grow dull in my mind, my blinking slow, my vision blurring. "Come, let's see you to your tent."
I make it only about a dozen paces, before my mind falls suddenly blank, and my body collapses.
189
KIRA
I stand within the private tent of Commander Hendricks, his body lying before me on a simple bed. To one side, Secretary Burns and Adryan look on forlornly, Dom and Max doing the same on the other.
The battle ended some time ago now, the northern and southern lines swarming with our remaining soldiers as they make the place safe. A full accounting will take some time to complete, but the early signs are not good.
Hundreds, I now know, have fallen in the attacks. Several of our siege weapons have been destroyed. And though no one else of great prominence fell, the man at our feet did. We will all be poorer for it.
"He died well?" asks Dom, looking down sadly at the man.
It's a typically Neoroman question, one that speaks of their honour, the great glory they find in battle and death. Glenn Hendricks may not have been Neoroman, but he relished the fight much like they did. I nod, giving the only answer I can. "He died with honour," I say. "Just as he lived."
Behind us, the flap of the tent opens up, and Ares steps inside. His eyes show sorrow at the sight before him. He draws a weary breath, his body splashed with blood and grit, his silver armour badly discoloured from the fight.
"I heard," he says, turning specifically to Burns. "I am sorry, Leyton. He was a brave man, and a fine leader. He shall be dearly missed."
Burns nods slowly. He doesn't speak for an extended moment. "What is the latest, Ares? Do you know how many men we have lost?"
"Exact numbers are still coming in," Ares says, his voice lacking its usual commanding energy. "It looks like at least five hundred. And our ability to siege the city has been severely dented."
"But the mists?" I ask. "At least they have somewhat cleared. I hear Amber and Elian took out the enemy Skymasters?"
Ares nods. "And we are in their debt," he says. "It often seems to be the case, especially with Amber. Perses tells me they took the initiative, and flew together to the rear of the enemy lines. Both are now resting. They have no energy left to spare."
"I saw her," I say. "I was coming from the south, after..." I glance at Hendricks again, my words temporarily strangled in my throat. "She was flying over the camp," I go on, "pursued by Herald Gailen."
"Yes. Gailen caused a great deal of destruction, as always," Ares says. "He fled, however, when the mists cleared and the Olympians retreated."
"And how many of them are dead?" asks Dom. "Tell me we at least got parity?"
"A similar number, my Emperor," Ares nods. "Likely some of their best troops, given how they fought. They were...more impressive than I've yet seen. It might well be the work of Brie."
I sense Adryan stiffen, his eyes dropping low.
"There's...more to it than that," I say, taking a breath, as Adryan's eyes lift to mine, hidden behind a partial frown. So far, I haven't explained what I discovered to the south. No one has yet given much thought to why such a large contingent of Fringers were attacking.
I draw a breath before offering explanation. As soon as the General hears of this, I know how he will react. Brie will no longer be someone to try to save, if she ever even was to his mind. Now she will surely be a target, just as much as the Prime.
It pains me terribly to know that I have little recourse, now, to argue against that.
"The Fringers came from Hunter's Station," I say, speaking into the silent, stuffy air. "They had all been awakened. They were all under orders to attack." My green eyes grow shallow, my works weak. "It was Brie," I croak. "She ordered them all to attack us against their will."
The reveal leads to a short silence. No one shows great surprise, knowing already what Brie has been doing. Even Adryan, of all people, seems to nod to it, as if expecting such a thing. He spoke before of her craving power, of the Overseer and the Prime using that to their advantage. It's hard to argue against that now. Perhaps she is susceptible to such temptations.
"You're certain about this?" asks Ares, looking at me with those dark, brooding eyes. His figure stands tall like a mountain, upright like a sheer cliff. I nod, and he does the same. "I must report this to General Decimus," he says. "We must be prepared for more attacks."
"Were there any more?" I ask. "At the other camps."
"No, only here," Ares says. "It may now be that the General decides to concentrate our forces. A good portion of our artillery has been destroyed here. It might now be wise to centre the point of attack here, and here alone."
"The city will at least be visible now," Dom says, trying to inject a note of positivity into the discussion. "With a host of their Skymasters killed, their ability to conceal it will be limited. It may not matter, of course, if we cannot break through the walls, but it is something at least. We must take any victory we can, however small."
"Yes, my Emperor," says Ares, his voice coming listless. "General Decimus may yet have a plan. We must maintain hope for now."
He nods and leaves at that, stepping out into the night air. The rest of us share another mournful look as we cast our eyes briefly down upon Hendricks. Another moment of silence follows, as we remember the man how he was. It is all we can can give him, things as they are.
We leave him alone, and step back into the small clearing at the heart of the camp, where the main command tent resides. I can hear Ares inside it, speaking with General Decimus. I might choose to focus my hearing, to listen to their conversation from afar, but find myself distracted. From one of the lanes leading towards the centre of the base, I see the fiery form of Alberta march. She sees us, and paces right forward.
She must have come with some of the soldiers as they arrived from the other camps.
"Where is she?" she asks, her eyes wide and flaming. "Where is my granddaughter..."
Burns lifts a calming hand. "She is quite all right, Alberta," he says. "She is resting in her tent. She has suffered no injury."
The old Fire-Blood's eyes begin to still, calming like raging seas after a passing storm. They move toward the tent in which she - when she's here - and Amber stay. From within it, perhaps hearing the commotion outside, Perses's large form emerges, stepping out towards us. He makes a beeline for her specifically, his presence ever soothing when the tension grows hot.
"Her fires have gone out, Alberta," he tells her. "She needs rest, only, to restore them."
"What happened?" she asks. "I have been given only fractured reports. I'm told Amber killed the Skymasters?"
"Things are still being pieced together," Perses says. "But yes, she did so, along with Elian. They fought together, and fought well. Without them things may have been a lot worse."
"And in the south?" she asks. Her grey-gold eyebrows plummet into a deep frown. "I'm told it was a contingent of Fringers who attacked? I don't know how that could be. It doesn't make any sense..."
"They were awakened and under orders from Brie," Burns says, speaking in a controlled manner, laying down the facts quickly as I've spoken them. "Kira says they came from Hunter's Station. It would seem as though Brie was able to get there, awaken them, and order them to attack us here."
Alberta looks at me. "Is this true?" she gasps.
"It's true, Alberta," I say, my voice taking on a frame of regret, a shame, almost, at what my friend has done. What she's been forced to do. "We believed they were merely militia reinforcements at first. It allowed them to get close before they sprung the attack."
Alberta's eyes drop, her lips whispering as she shakes her head. "We heard rumours of preachers there," she says quietly, introspective. "They were seeking people who wished to be awakened, offering them a chance of salvation, to join the Children of the Prime." She looks up. "They must have been sent ahead...to prepare for Brie's coming."