Exhumation: An Epic of Existentia (Acts of the Sojourner Book 1)

by S. A. Chapman

  “What in the Nine was that?” said Maxir, looking towards the Corridor of the Operarium. Pious also looked towards the corridor in confusion, as what sounded like screams echoed from deeper within the corridor.

  “It sounded like a…” said Pious, before the ground rumbled again, followed by the sound of another explosion violently blasting air through the Dome, bringing a dust storm with it.

  Pious’s expression changed from one of intrigue to a stern look of sudden shock as he turned his head to the crowd behind him. “They are in the Aqueduct! Ready your arms!” he shouted, picking up a sword from a makeshift weapon–rack. He ran toward the aqueduct and climbed atop the stonework.

  “Shield Wall!” shouted Maxir, picking up a spear and shield and following Pious to the aqueduct. Other guards bearing spears and shields ran up alongside Maxir and drew their shields to their fronts, joining with Captain Mallea – locking themselves in place together, forming a defensive ring around the aqueduct entrances.

  “Captain – will you help us secure a path between Sanctum and the Eastern Gate?” shouted Pious, pointing to the exit.

  “Done. We’ll meet at Landsbeach,” replied Trakus. “Dhalia, we are leaving!” he shouted, as he looked on to Captain Mallea and eagerly awaited her response.

  She gestured with her head for him to leave. Trakus nodded his head and shared glances with the four other Captains. “Right – let's go” he ordered, and he and the other Captains ran towards the exit.

  “Rasstun. You go with them and rally the forces; secure us a path!” commanded Pious, pointing with his sword at the Karajaners as they were exiting the Dome.

  “Prefect!” replied Rasstun, slamming his fist against his chest and running off in pursuit.

  Pious returned his gaze to the aqueduct's entrance, staring into the blackened abyss. The flame of the Naetherhammer illuminated the faces of the men, and partly illuminated the aqueduct entrance. The water level continued to rise as the surface rippling became larger and more frequent. All the men steadied their breath and gazed deep into the aqueduct tunnel. The sound of splashing in the tunnel increased in volume – as if the splashing of footsteps in the aqueducts' waters was getting closer and closer. As it did, the men of the shield wall steeled their resolve.

  Like an explosion, naked and heavily tattooed Redemption's Glory berserkers burst forth from the aqueduct, wielding menacing hand–axes and war chains, and with the foam and froth of a Bara–Blood–induced rage falling from their clenched teeth.

  Strapped to their chests were suicide vests, heavily laden with bricks of the highly volatile Novaflash compound – with detonation levers attached to their fronts.

  The berserkers wielded their chains with proficiency, wrapping them around the defenders' weapons and rendering them ineffective as the berserkers collided with the wall of shields and hacked at the guards with their brutal hand axes.

  “Get those vests wet – don’t let them activate them!” shouted Pious at the top of his lungs.

  A berserker reached for the lever on his chest, but in the next moment, a soldier leapt forward through the shield wall, slapped his hand away and tackled him into the water.

  Another berserker hit the soldier in the back of the head with an axe – just as Maxir thrust his spear into the berserker’s neck, driving him to the ground.

  The Naetherhammer of Captain Mallea landed powerfully onto the skull of a berserker – dropping the mindless berserker with a blast of white fire, as he let out an horrific and unearthly scream.

  As fast as the Militia killed an opponent by spear or sword, another would appear. The encounter was fierce and brutal, and the invaders' berserker rage was relentless. Deeper into the tunnel, Redemption's Glory Auxiliary Regulars bearing torches began to appear, illuminating the bowels of the tunnel.

  “Go!” shouted Frederich at Pious, thrusting his short sword over the top of his shield. Pious stabbed his sword into the shoulder of another berserker; still, the berserker tried attacking the soldier to Pious’s right.

  “Sound the retreat! Go! You know what to do!” shouted Frederich again.

  Pious withdrew his blade from the shoulder of his frenzied victim, whose eyes were rolling into the back of his head in fury. Pious detached himself from the defensive wall and ran towards the Corridor of the Operarium with his sword in hand, pushing through the stream of folk rushing towards the exit. A fine haze of dust filled the corridor, which was likewise filled with the sound of the raging conflict in the Dome behind him.

  As he ran through the corridor, he noticed a large group of disorientated young children standing at the entrance to the Operarium and ran towards them.

  “What are you still doing here, children?” yelled Pious.

  “They – they went to the Southern Dome, Master,” said a young girl with fear in her eyes, pointing through the haze towards the Southern Cardinal Dome.

  Pious pointed into the Operarium. “Is there anyone else left in there?”

  “No, Master. We are the last, the others are down there,” replied a young boy.

  “Some Authoritor came and took all the older children. They said that someone would come back for us – and then there were those loud noises,” said a young boy who barely looked thirteen.

  Pious looked to the Southern Dome. He knew something wasn’t right – and it showed in his expression. He looked concerned, and this worried the children.

  He gave his short–sword to a barely of age teenager. “Do you know how to use this?” he asked, looking at the boy seriously.

  “Yes. Yes, Master,” replied the boy, staring at the blood dripping down the double-edged blade.

  “Good. Now all of you… listen to me. There are bad people inside the Sanctum, and you have to go, now,” said Pious as he pointed towards the Eastern Dome. “When you get to the Dome, do not stop for any reason; head outside, straight away and group with the others heading to the 7th District.”

  Pious leant in towards the sword-bearing child. “Do not hesitate to kill anyone who tries to hurt you or the other children. Understood?” asked Pious, looking back at the teenager.

  “Yes, Master,” said the boy, nodding his head.

  “Good. Now, go, and don’t stop until you get outside.”

  The children ran towards the Eastern Dome. Pious watched them run into the distance, with the smaller children being helped along.

  The Southern Cardinal Dome

  “You, my loyal friends – my greatest advocates. I thank you for your support and endurance. For your loyalty, I bestow upon you the power and office of full access and credibility, to investigate all matters of treachery, treason and dissent – to report on and make known these men and women who seek to bring Chaos where we have Order,”

  “The Thanking of the Advocates”,

  The Wise and Noble Lumerus.

  Unknown date of record.

  Pious ran towards the southern Dome. The dust in the air began to obscure his vision, getting thicker the closer he got to the Dome. Pious pushed through the thick dust and into the Dome with utter dread filling his heart. Shattered corpses lay throughout the Dome, stone and flesh equally littering the floor.

  A cool breeze blew in through the wide-open doors of the Southern Dome, which looked like they had been blasted from the outside in.

  Pious walked through the Dome uneasily, looking to the floor, watching his footwork. The aqueduct's entrances had collapsed, and the stonework that formed their arches was strewn about the Dome. Pious surveyed the scene, trying to see if he could find any survivors.

  He briefly lost his footing as he slipped in a pool of blood that had become obscured by the layer of stone dust that blanketed everything in the Dome. He walked towards the entrance of the Dome and stood in its doorway. The almost total darkness of the outside world was abated by the scatterings of bonfires in the Forecourt, the fires burning in the districts and the flashing of what Pious could only assume as cannon fire illuminating the clouds above the Hydraen
Ocean.

  A tremendous gaping cavern, with dust still rising from its abyss and loose rubble falling into its depths, reached into the ground of the Forecourt, a few spans from the base of the stone steps. A group of Militia stood around the hole.

  “What happened?” shouted Pious, as one of the Militia ran towards Pious, climbing the steps with haste.

  “Not long after the ground erupted, Authoritor came from inside the Dome, with a group of children and took them below the ground.”

  “That is strange,” said Pious, rubbing his stubble–covered chin in contemplation.

  “Prefect – did you know there is a tunnel below there?” said the soldier, pointing towards the hole.

  “A tunnel?” replied Pious in surprise. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Yes, sir. A metal tunnel – it heads south. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Go after them – I want you to find out what is down there. And make sure no else goes into or comes out of, that thing,” ordered Pious, pointing to the cavernous hole.

  “Prefect!” said the soldier with a salute, and began to descend the steps.

  “Wait…” he said. “Militus – the order has been given to retreat to Landsbeach via the Eastern Gate. Spread the word.”

  “We have heard, sir. We will continue to spread the word.”

  “You evacuate as well – go,” said Pious, pointing towards the east. Then he re-entered the Dome.

  When he looked towards the aqueduct's entrance on the adjacent side of the Dome, he noticed a figure moving, face down. He went over to the figure, knelt and rolled it over. It was an Auxiliary Regular, with blood coming from his nose. One of his eyes looked at Pious, while the other stared at the ceiling above. The Attaran showed the signs of an irreversible concussion, gurgling to himself quietly. Pious spotted a rapier next to the Attaran. He reached over the man and picked it up before rising to his feet. Then he looked around again, checking to see if he could spot any other survivors.

  There was no obvious movement, only the corpses of the last group of women, children and other Operarium innocents who had been held up in the Dome, waiting to exit when given the all clear. Innumerable small metal balls littered the floor, and the bodies of the deceased had been cast throughout the Dome by the violent force of the suicide vests.

  Pious heard shouting from within the Corridor of the Praetorium. He looked up and began to carefully make his way across the Dome, entering the corridor when he reached the other side.

  As Pious jogged through the corridor, the dust began to clear. After the dust had thinned, Pious saw two Vindicator Adepts and an Inquisitor defending themselves against a small force of Attaran Rapiers and Halberdiers. The Inquisitor looked visibly weakened by the overuse of Aetherics and was backing away slowly on his knees, with his hand outstretched towards the Attarans.

  “Hey!” shouted Pious, trying to draw the attention of the Attarans. The Attarans turned to face Pious, who stood several spans away from them, covered in dust.

  Pious looked at the flimsy Rapier in his hand. He had never understood the Attarans' insistence on using aesthetically pleasing and elegant weaponry. To a Praetorian, a weapon wasn’t meant to be elegant – it was meant to take the life of an enemy, as fast and efficiently as possible.

  Pious smirked, dropped the rapier on the ground and withdrew a dagger from his boot and charged forward into the fray. The closest rapier wielding Attaran noticed Pious charging at him and turned to face the juggernaut running his way.

  The Attaran took a deep stance and pointed his rapier at Pious. As Pious moved in range, the Attaran thrust his rapier at him. Pious sidestepped, letting the blade miss his flank, and drove the dagger in his hand down into the neck of the Attaran. Then, rapidly withdrawing the blade, he grabbed the nearby Attaran and stabbed him in the ribs with the dagger. A stream of blood followed the blade as it was withdrawn, and he threw the Attaran at the two approaching Halberdiers.

  The other Attarans tried to engage with Pious, but due to the length of their halberds, their weapons became pinned by their incoming comrade.

  Pious lunged forward, inserting the blade of his dagger into the chest of the Attaran on the right and kicking the one on the left in his flank, dropping him to the ground. Pious stepped forward and wielding his dagger with two hands, forcefully drove it into the back of a Attaran’s skull – grunting like a wild Savage.

  Pious took a deep victorious breath through his nose, and let it out through his mouth.

  “Thank you, Militus,” said the Inquisitor, raising his head to face his saviour. His expression of thanks turned to one of fear when he realised who was standing before him. Pious was covered in splashes of blood and dust, and he stared at the Inquisitor with no expression.

  The two Vindicators stepped forwards – one holding his flank, with blood trickling through its fingers, the other limping on a wounded leg – leaving no quarter between the Inquisitor and Pious.

  Pious wanted to speak, but the Surge blocked his throat. He tried to still his mind. Relax. Breathe. Finally, he could speak.

  “Clement,” he said, as he greeted the High Inquisitor on a ground littered with corpses of enemies and allies alike.

  “Pious… I… I…,” muttered Clement, trying to talk through his exhaustion, taking slow and deep breaths.

  “Have you seen Magister Lothar? I was told he was seen heading this way,” said Pious.

  Clement pointed in the direction of the Western Dome, as he stared at the ground in exhaustion, unable to speak.

  “Head towards the Eastern Dome, they can use all the assistance they can get,” instructed Pious, pointing in the direction from which he had arrived. A Vindicator placed his arm under that of Clement and helped the Inquisitor to his feet. Then they turned and headed towards the southern Dome.

  Once his heart rate had lowered, and the pounding had stopped inside his ears, Pious could hear more screaming, deeper with the corridor, in the direction of the Western Dome.

  The Vindicator holding his flank propped himself on his sword and pointed towards the direction of the screaming with his bloodied hand. “There, are more of them,” said the Vindicator, as he tried his best to stand upright. Then he turned his sword and held it by the blade, offering the hilt to Pious. Pious grabbed the sword, nodded, and ran deeper into the corridor as the Vindicator turned and hobbled towards the Southern Dome.

  As Pious approached the ever–familiar Praetorium, he felt a commanding sense of horror. Lying in front of the Praetorium were several bodies, some propped against the wall and some lying on the ground, their profiles revealed through the Praetorian Vigilant mantles that covered them. He approached the locked and barred doors to the Praetorium and stood still, frozen in deliberation. He crouched next to the body on his right, propped against the wall, and drew back the mantle covering its head. A young centurion, his skin blue with stupor, stared at the opposite wall, his eyes wide open and his body locked in rigour mortis. Vomit and blood had spilt from his mouth and covered his chest plate. Pious looked away in disgust, sadness and anger as he replaced the mantle over the centurion’s head.

  Poisoned – just as Rasstun had said. Pious stood upright again, staring at the barred entryway. Two solid pieces of timber were nailed across the doors in parallel, with a piece of parchment nailed in between. Pious took a step closer and inspected its words.

  “The Praetorium is hereby sealed, by order of the Advocates of Lumerus, until further investigation into the poisoning of the Praetorian Vigilants, with due suspicion involving the Veiled Unrepentant. All requests for entry and information regarding the incident shall report to the investigatory authority, authorised below.

  Chief Provost and Advocate Léon Regulario 9°

  Pious’s blood pressure increased as he slammed his fist against the door. His eyes told unspeakable truths of rage and violence – brimming with an untold story of vengeance. Revenge was due – if only he knew who was responsible. He looke
d to the Praetorian once more, to a short–sword that lay on the floor by his contorted hand.

  Pious knelt and picked up the sword, inspecting the hilt. “Blaise Cassinos…,” he muttered to himself as he read the letters on the hilt.

  Pious looked towards the western Dome, tuning into the sound of the conflict further ahead. His eyes showed an unrelenting fury, restrained through an expression of stoic calm. He was going to take revenge, by any means necessary, on anyone who had been involved in this invasion. Pious ran forward into the corridor, the sound of his boots on the stone surface reverberating off the walls and ceiling.

  As he came towards the opening in the Western Dome, he saw eight Auxiliary Regulars bashing at an Aetheric Shield wall, held in place by unwavering Cherishes, that blocked the ingress of the enemy. Pious slowed from his run, taking smaller steps until he stopped some ten spans away from them.

  Through the distortion of the Aetheric Shield, Pious could make out two Eir struggling to maintain their Shield, with their Ayldar standing at the ready. Behind them stood some Militia, with swords and shields in hand. Pious saw that the Aetheric shield was thinning with each strike and that the Eir were at the point of collapse; their Ayldar looked more than prepared for combat.

  Pious charged at the Auxiliary Regulars, building pace and power as he gained ground. One of the Attarans heard Pious's footsteps over the drumming noise caused by their weapons striking the Aetheric Shield and turned. As the Attaran began to shout a warning, Pious leapt into the air and onto the back of a predisposed Attaran. The tip of his short–sword made the first contact, and – driven by all of Pious’s weight – penetrated deep in between the shoulders of the Attaran, fatally severing arteries and organs.

  Pious pushed back as he made contact with his victim, throwing the enemy forward. Pious regained his footing; then, using his sword, he struck away an incoming blow from another Attaran, sending a blast of sparking metal into the Attaran's eyes. He slashed immediately to his right with a sidewards slice, carving open the face of the Attaran next to him.