Pious knelt close to the ground, and the others crouched low alongside him, watching him use a stick to draw a schematic of Sanctum in the dirt.
“You there!” shouted Pious, to a Militiaman running past. He stopped and walked towards Pious with curiosity. Pious pointed at the Qulin Stable with the stick. “I want to know how many Qulin are available – and how many Sentinels are prepped,” commanded Pious before looking at the ground once again.
The Militiaman stood dumbfounded, confused as to why some dishevelled man was giving him orders. A look of anger crossed his face, as he took a step forward and began to point his finger at Pious. Aldrich shook his head frantically at the Militiaman and pointed at the stable.
“Do it,” he mouthed to the soldier, with a nod of his head. The soldier saluted the Colonel, turned and ran to the stable – even more confused than ever.
“Sincerus,” Pious said, “I think you should take a Centuriae of militia and move to the Sanctum Operarium. Escort any remaining women, infirm and children into the 7th District. They should be safest there until they can be evacuated, or until the all-clear can be given.” He pointed with the stick at the Operarium and patted Sincerus on the shoulder.
“K’Reorh, can I ask you to go with Sincerus?” asked Pious.
“Of course, Hunt Master,” replied K’Reorh.
“And you look after him,” said Pious, looking at Sincerus and pointing the stick at K’Reorh.
Sincerus placed his hand on K’Reorh’s shoulder. “I will,”
Pious then turned back to the map and pointed at the Western Cardinal Dome.
“Valerus and Aldrich – head to the Western Cardinal Dome. If the reports are correct and the Alliance Army is on board the Fleet – then we will need to bolster our forces in the West. If they wish to attack Sanctum, they will make their ingress into Sanctum there.” He circled the Western Cardinal Dome with his stick, as Valerus and Aldrich nodded in approval. “You two have held out against odds like this – prepare the same defences.”
“Tyr, B’Sayan and R’Argh – you three head to the North Cardinal Dome. If the Reclamation army breach the curtain and are going to mount a full attack, it is going to be through there. Head there and aid in coordinating the forces as much as possible.”
Tyr and R’Argh smiled in expectation, and B’Sayan began tapping the head of his hammer in his hand.
“What about you, Pious?” asked Sincerus.
“I’m going to try to activate the defences and find Lothar. He knows something about this attack – and I am going to find out what he knows,” said Pious. He stood upright and threw his drawing stick on the ground with derision.
“I know the prospect of retreat may be real, but let us see what we’ve got left. We know we have lost Shield defences, but if we can activate the Curtain and Sanctum defences, we may be able to hold – even against the entire Shaydean Alliance Army. We’ve done it before – and we will do it again.
“We will need to determine if we have a chance to repel this attack. If not – if all hope is lost – we retreat to Landsbeach through the Eastern Gate,” said Pious, pointing towards the 7th District.
Then he continued, “Let’s move as a group towards Sanctum and find Commander Leonis – then split from there. Unless Leonis already has something else in mind, we stick to this plan.” Pious pointed to the drawing on the ground with his foot – then destroyed the diagram, brushing his foot through the soft soil.
“Anything may lie ahead of us, so we all watch each other's backs,” said Pious. “We can do this.”
Meanwhile, the rest of the raiding party were splitting into their respective teams, drawing random soldiers into their fold, and camaraderie abounded.
Pious looked at the group with the utmost pride. What they had achieved to reach home filled him with a newfound vigour. Anything that were to happen from that point on, mattered not. What had happened thus far would be a story worthy of record in the Scrolls of the Praetorium – even if it was never to be recorded. Nevertheless, it would all amount to nothing if he couldn’t find Serana.
Sanctum stood mighty in the distance, with the firelight of the Northern Districts reflecting off its golden Domes. Pious looked to the Sanctum.
“Are we all ready?” asked Pious, as he looked back at his comrades. The group replied with nods of their heads.
Pious’s heart rate increased as Jarus stared back at him.
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Jarus replied with a daring smile, as he lowered the face shield on his Authoritor’s helmet – and looked towards the Sanctum. Pious lunged forward and grabbed Jarus by his breastplate and forcefully lifted the faceplate with haste.
“Why do you taunt me?” shouted Pious.
“Whoa! What the Nine are you doing?” shouted Tyr, hastily pushing Pious backwards with shock – the shock of Pious spontaneously grabbing him by the head. Pious looked back at Tyr, with confusion and a sense of idiocy. The group stared at Pious, who was looking ill – seemingly mesmerised. B’Sayan stepped forward and attempted to speak.
“Colonel!” shouted a voice from behind the group. The group turned to face a Militiaman, who saluted Aldrich promptly. “There are no Qulin – or Sentinels.”
“Thank you – you’re dismissed,” said Aldrich with a salute, as he turned back to Pious and stared at him with concern.
Pious muttered to himself incoherently as he turned and started to march towards the Sanctum. The group followed him, all beginning to feel deep concerns for his welfare.
As they crossed the bridge spanning the Sanctum Fosse, Valerus stopped and pointed to the waters below, while as the rest of the group continued marching onwards. “Look at the water level – it’s too low!” he shouted as he caught up to the group.
“I know – they must have dammed the stream,” said Pious, rubbing his tired eyes. “They would have cut off the water supply to intensify their siege.”
Pious heard a familiar sound approaching rapidly from behind him, and quickly turned to see seven Winged Sentinels charging by them; their Qulin fully adorned with battle plate armour. He spotted Centurix Corinthus leading the charge, with her faceplate raised in the open position.
“Akantha!” shouted Pious, trying to get her attention – in vain, as the rattling of the Sentinels' wings droned out any background noise.
“Damn it,” said Pious, as he looked toward the entrance of the Eastern Cardinal Dome. The Entrance to the Eastern Dome was open, and well–guarded, with many Militia running in and out of its entrance. The sound of the Militia heading out to bolster defences at the Northern and Western Curtain Gates filled the Sanctum Forecourt.
Pious noticed a large group of Magistratum Administrators being guided out of Sanctum by some Militia. He went over to the Militiaman escorting the group. Them Militiaman bore the pauldron sash of an Evocatus on his shoulder, with a war–mace in his hand and a shield on his back.
“Evocatus,” said Pious. He slammed his fist against his chest, greeting the old soldier. The soldier looked at Pious with curiosity.
As soon as some Militiamen noticed the Scythians, the Militia reacted with fright and confusion and began to draw their swords.
“Put them away!” ordered the Evocatus, as he saluted Pious. The guards released their grips on their sword hilts.
“It is truly beneficent to see you, Prefect. The Militia are putting up a great resistance as the last line of defence. Any aid we can get from you would really encourage the forces, especially having the Prefect of the 1st Ultimus Cohort amongst them,” said the Evocatus, bowing his head slightly in respect.
“Your name, Evocatus?” asked Pious, putting his hand out in greeting.
The old soldier fixed his mace to his belt and shook Pious’s hand, before shaking hands with the other men. “Rasstun Gravenum, Evocatus, 1st Squadron. I served under Tribune Dominici at Bonewallis during the March Wars.” The hardy–looking old soldier pointed to a gold, black and blue battle–braid attached to his belt – a
sign of his service in the March Wars. Pious knew that battle–braid well, as he had one himself, hidden away in some long-forgotten corner of his quarters.
Rasstun pointed to a soldier standing next to him. “Take them out of here. I will catch up.” He pointed to the group of administrators and then to the east.
“Sir!” replied the soldier and gestured for the group to follow him, which they did.
“The Siege of Bonewallis… Yes, we will need your experience, Rasstun – now more than ever,” said Pious. He surveyed the scene around him, looking perplexed. “I just spotted seven Winged Sentinels ride past – but where are all the Vigilant Praetorians, Rasstun? I have not seen one.”
“It is madness, Prefect…,” said Rasstun, staring at the blackened mass of Nox above. He looked back to Pious.
“They are dead,” said Rasstun.
“What?” replied the four Praetorians in unison, as their expressions changed to a combination of horror and pain.
Rasstun gave his full attention to the four Praetorians. “Poisoned, at the Feast of Tenebrae.”
“No… that’s impossible,” said Pious, placing his hand on Rasstun’s shoulder. He wanted it to be some kind of sick joke, for Rasstun to start laughing. Instead, Rasstun shook his head slightly. Rasstun’s eyes told the truth, showing the pain of telling the Vigilant Prefect that his Legion had been poisoned in their entirety.
Valerus turned to Aldrich. “Did you know about this?” he asked quietly, and Aldrich nodded in response.
Rasstun tapped Pious’s hand in consolation. “I’m sorry, Prefect. Those that had enough strength to fight… fell in battle. The last of the Vigilant fell in a charge against the northern invasion forces, to allow a scouting party to return. We lost a lot of brave brothers and sisters.” Rasstun paused for a moment, before continuing. “There is a somewhat consoling piece of information – the entire Winged Sentinel Cohort survived. They received an order for a full watch during Tenebrae – thereby missing the deadly feast.”
Pious, smiled to himself and gently nodded his head – recollecting his final order to Akantha. “Well that is something,” said Valerus, as he patted Pious on the back in support.
Pious’s expression turned to steel, and he began to speak, but Tyr stepped forward and interrupted his thoughts. “You only mentioned the Vigilant… What of the Authoritor?” asked Tyr, his expression full of anger.
“The Authoritor? Well, they are different story,” said Rasstun. “The Authoritor have either fled or defected. The defectors murdered any of their own who resisted. Many of the Authoritor are still in the Separatist districts, and are aiding the enemy in fortifying themselves.”
“By the Nine,” said Tyr, looking at Pious – who was staring at the Sanctum, with the agonisingly slow eclipse of Lux occurring high above. Sincerus fell to the ground, shouting with fury at the top of his lungs, and started to repeatedly punch the stonework with his steel–covered fist, sparks shooting forth with each strike. Aldrich ran to his side and pulled him backwards in an embrace.
“We’ll get them, son,” said Aldrich, holding the struggling Sincerus tight, his eyes full of vengeful tears.
“The others have disappeared,” Rasstun continued. “The Authoritor Overwatch has moved to Landsbeach and is currently guarding the roads there, for anyone wishing to flee.” Rasstun rubbed his knee, as he moved it in a circle. “When we heard you had been executed, we were all greatly saddened and angered. It truly is beneficent that you and your men have returned. Even though the Ancient Praetorian customs have long been outlawed, we held a Soldiers Fire to you and your men, Prefect, in honour of you four – the Fallen Four.”
“Thank you, Rasstun. Your words are greatly appreciated,” said Pious. He laughed to himself, with a cocky smile on his face. The Fallen Four – it had a certain ring to it. He liked it and so did the other three, as revealed by the same smiles that briefly crossed their faces.
“This place descended further into madness after you were declared heretics and word of your deaths spread throughout Sanctuary,” said Rasstun. “The wrath of the Vindicators went unchecked, and the Inquisition took control of the Districts.”
Realising the gravity of the conversation, Aldrich stepped forward and caught Rasstun’s attention with a gesture. “Have they managed to breach the Curtain? It appears undisturbed in the Arboretum.”
“They have yet to break through. We have blocked all the Curtain’s portcullis gates to the affected Districts, and we are preparing to destroy the Fosse bridges if the need arises. The Reconnaissance Cohort undertook a scouting skirmish against them to try and assess their numbers.”
“Any reports on the size of their forces?” asked Pious.
“There is… come with me,” said Rasstun. He led Pious to the Dome, through the stream of folk from the Magistratum heading to the eastern districts. As he ascended the stairs to the entryway, he continued, “Information has been gathered on the enemy forces, but I doubt it was worth its price.”
Every being in the forecourt turned their heads to the south as a Watcher's Horn began to cry through the frosty air – a slight vibration pulsating through the ground. The long, droning note was abruptly cut short.
Pious turned to look at the group. “Yes Pious, that was another Watcher's Horn,” said B’Sayan, pre-empting his rhetorical questioning.
“Under attack from three sides….” mumbled Pious, shaking his head. All around him, people tried best to divert their attention to the tasks at hand, instead of concerning themselves with the thought of an attack from the South.
A group of men ran forth from within the Dome. “Was that another horn?” a voice yelled from amidst the Militia who now blocked the entryway.
“It was, sir. The South,” shouted Rasstun to the group above.
“Damn it!” shouted a voice familiar to Pious. “You… get me a report!”
“Sir!” replied a young man. He ran down the steps, pushing his way through those on the stairs, splitting the crowd in two, before sprinting towards the south.
As the people on the stairs moved aside, Pious saw Magister Leonis standing at the top of the stairs amid the group – dressed in the Praetorian armour of his younger years. He might have been old, but he still commanded an intimidating presence.
“Magister Leonis!” shouted Pious, as he began to climb the stairs.
“Pious?” shouted Frederich Leonis in surprise. “Get up here!” he yelled, gesturing for the group to climb the stairs.
“Magister Leonis,” said the Fallen Four in unison, greeting the veteran with respect.
“What is going on?” asked Pious. Frederich stared at the Scythians for a moment in confusion, then looked back at Pious.
“Absolute Chaos is what is going on, Pious. I don’t know how we did not see something like this coming,” he said, as more Militia exited the dome, pushing past them as they stood at the top of the stairs.
“Commander,” said Aldrich to Frederich, saluting him. Frederich nodded in response.
“Come,” said Frederich. He turned, pushed past some Militia standing in the entrance, and entered the Dome.
“You!” Shouted Frederich, as he grabbed a passing Militiaman by the arm.
“Sir?”
“The Fallen Four have returned, with the King of the Forest and his bodyguards – spread the word!” said Frederich, with a smile on his face.
“Sir!” replied the Militiaman, before glancing at Pious, nodding and running down the steps, beginning to herald the return as instructed.
The Eastern Cardinal Dome
“Arising from a large pond in the centre of the Dome’s floor is a tremendous pillar that connects to the top of the Dome. The pond receives its water supply from Sanctum Fosse via the central aqueduct ring, which runs through all the Domes via a network of tunnels.”
A facsimile of various notes from the recovered journals of Lan’Tsa Nichon regarding the structure of Sanctuary,
Qan’Fu Ensan, Imperial Archivist
.
1114th Revolution of the Grand Míngxīng.
The Eastern Cardinal Dome was a hive of activity. To Pious, the sight before him was completely alien. He had never seen Militia in Sanctum. Nor had he ever seen an absence of Praetorian Vigilants within the Curtain. The order and serenity of Sanctum were nowhere to be felt or heard; instead, frantic footsteps, the clash of arms and armour striking against each other, and the shouts of Sanctuary Militia filled the air.
The insides of the Dome were abuzz with noise from the several hundred-people crammed inside, the ambient noise rising and falling like a wave as people moved in and out of the Dome. Against the wall to the right of the main entrance was a makeshift infirmary, with many stretchers and medical stations, where Medici and Cherishe tended to the wounded with care and diligence.
“One moment, Commander,” said Rasstun, as Frederich nodded in response. He gestured to Pious. “Come with me,” he said as he started to weave through the busy infirmary. He stopped next to a sleeping man leaning against a crate with some cushions propping him up, and knelt alongside him. The man had several Sunsphere shard–bolts embedded in his body, with bandages wrapped around them to halt the bleeding.
Rasstun placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, causing him to let out a scream as he was awakened from his sleep, grimacing in pain.
“Easy, son, don’t try to move,” said Rasstun. He turned to face Pious.
“Prefect, this young man was a part of a scouting party that was saved by the valiant sacrifice of the Vigilant charge I spoke of earlier. This group was the last that came back,” said Rasstun, as he waved his hand across the infirmary.
Pious knelt next to the man, who slowly looked up at him. “Percival De–Tundra, 1st Lieutenant of the 7th Reconnaissance Cohort,” said the young man, placing his hand to his chest in salute, and barely missing a shard–bolt puncturing his upper chest.
“There are thousands of them, Prefect,” said the young man quietly and slowly, cracking the dried traces of dried blood stuck to the corners of his mouth. A great sadness filled his eyes. “The Vigilants… they were slaughtered – because of us. They charged the enemy's Sunspheres, gaining time for us to retreat and re-enter the Arboretum, through the curtain.”
Exhumation: An Epic of Existentia (Acts of the Sojourner Book 1) Page 26