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

by S. A. Chapman

  A facsimile of various notes from the recovered journals of Lan’Tsa Nichon regarding the population of Sanctuary,

  Qan’Fu Ensan, Imperial Archivist.

  1115th Revolution of the Grand Míngxīng.

  Pious tried to open the door of his room and was surprised at the resistance put up by the door. He pushed harder, moving aside a pile of items that were blocking the bottom of the door, and saw that his quarters had been torn to pieces; his possessions had been thrown about the room with complete disregard.

  “It looks like someone was looking for something,” said Tana.

  Pious laughed. “I know where they should have looked,” he said, as he threw his sword onto the bed. Pious illuminated the main lodestone in his room by pulling on the rope by the entrance, then made his way outside to the stone alcove that separated his quarters from the Sky–Ring.

  Pious walked slowly along the alcove, looking for anything odd, anything out of place. He laughed when he noticed his set of Contemplation Rods in their usual place in one of the many wall niches. Suspiciously, one of the nine rods stuck out beyond their usually flush surface. He took a step closer, inspecting the Virtue written down the side of the rod. “Care,” he read aloud. Quickly, he pushed the rod down and moved the set of Contemplation Rods to the side.

  He peered into the niche and saw that one of stones was slightly recessed. He pushed the stone slightly, dislodging it, and carefully removed it from its place, laying it next to the Contemplation Rods. He placed his hand into the cavity and smiled as his hand found a pouch, soft to the touch, which he withdrew.

  He held the heavy black velvet pouch in his hand and slowly walked back towards Tana. He released the toggle from the drawstring and opened the pouch to look inside. Weighing down the pouch was a metallic sphere not much larger than a Honey Apple, with an almost mirror finish. It had what appeared to be a handprint indentation on its surface, and was adorned with many bizarre glyphs. Pious had never seen the object before, and it made him feel uneasy.

  Tana walked alongside Pious. “What’s that?” she said. Pious looked back at her. “I don’t know, take a look,” he replied, and tossed the pouch to her.

  She grabbed it in her hand and sat down on Pious’s luxurious even if dishevelled bed, whilst Pious continued scouring his room.

  Pious peered into the niche again and noticed another small object. He withdrew the object – a piece of parchment wrapped around a small carving tied together with a simple string. Pious unwrapped the parchment, revealing a hollow carving of a Naga made of smooth stone or polished animal horn. It was rather crude and simple in design and was strung on a natural–fibre loop of rope. making it into a necklace. It did seem strangely familiar – not as much its look, but its feel. Pious placed it over his head and read the simple handwritten note to himself.

  “This was on his corpse – you must give it to him in time.”

  “Strange,” he said to himself, as he put the note down on the surface of the niche. He couldn’t help but wonder which of these items Lothar had left for him – either way; he felt that both were equally bizarre and carried no explanation.

  Pious watched Tana take off her glove and place her bare hand into the pouch, removing the sphere as her hand slipped into the indentation. As her hand fell into position, the ball started to vibrate.

  “What the–? Bastard! I can’t let it go!” she yelled, as her arm curled over onto itself. The sphere began emitting a series of beeping noises, while Pious looked on in confusion. “Fuck! It just stung me! Get it off me, will you!” she yelled at Pious.

  “Genotype Unrecognised,” said the ball, in a droning and buzzing baritone, before dropping to the floor just as Pious reached Tana.

  She stood there for a moment, staring at the metallic ball on the ground. “Fucking thing,” she said to herself.

  “What is this?” muttered Pious, as he curiously picked up the sphere and let his hand sink into the handprint.

  As his hand fell into position, the ball started to vibrate. Pious wanted to drop the ball, but instead, his grip tightened on the sphere as an electrical current surged through the muscles of his hand.

  The sphere began emitting a series of beeping noises while Pious looked on in confusion. He grimaced in pain as he felt a sharp sting in each of his fingertips where they touched the sphere.

  “Genotype Recognised,” said the ball. “Administering Memorotoxin.”

  Pious felt another sharp sting in the fleshy base of his thumb, and a burning itch began to eat away at his hand.

  “What the–?” Pious said, as the itching feeling coursed through his hand and up his arm. The itching feeling entered his chest, and a strange feeling of vertigo and nausea overtook him.

  “Tana?” said Pious, in a deep bass voice which seemed to vibrate through his very being, before dropping involuntarily to his knees.

  “Greetings,” said a voice from behind him. Pious turned around, only to find Tana standing there yelling at him, her mouth opening and closing slowly, with no sound coming forth.

  “Do not be alarmed, the nausea will subside,” stated the same voice–except this time, the voice penetrated his entire body. Pious kept looking around, his vision becoming blurred.

  Every time Pious blinked, it was if he was in another place entirely. A dark, sterile place.

  “Close your eyes,” instructed the voice, while Pious was still looking around the insides of his own room and combating the feeling that he wanted to vomit and claw at his face.

  Pious relaxed and closed his eyes as instructed. He found himself kneeling in the middle of a dimly lit round chamber, with a circular pedestal in its centre.

  Standing in front of him was a figure draped in a black robe, with a gently radiant orange face glowing from beneath its cowl. The face had a bony, skull-like appearance.

  “No one is immune to the symptoms of the Memorotoxin. If you comprehend this message, then the initial symptoms will have subsided,” said the voice.

  “If you are observing this message – then it is already too late. You will listen carefully, and you shall do as I instruct. The boy, Jacq – you will let him leave with the woman Mazdani. You must pursue Serana or all shall be lost,”

  The figure took an object from around its neck and presented it to Pious. Suspended by a string was an equilateral triangle, with many fine indentations and inscriptions.

  “You must bring this object to Karnak and take it to the Guardian of the Secret. Only the Guardian knows the location of the Sacred Vault beneath the Dry Seas. Dormant inside the Sacred Vault is an implement of use to the Right Hand and the key to returning balance to Existentia,” said the figure. It placed the trinket inside a hollow metallic sphere, divided in half, very similar in appearance to the one Pious held in his hand. “All the answers you seek, await you there,”

  “The Guardian will ask of you a password, to ensure that you are not an imposter. The Password is ‘Hanura, Gutharnura – El–suud Nutharak.’”

  The creature closed the ball and placed it into Pious’s hand. “The chains of destiny have long been fastened to your lineage, Sojourner. You will not fail, for you cannot fail; for this time is yours.” The figure took several steps backwards and disappeared in a haze of nothingness.

  “Pious!” screamed a familiar voice. “Get up! They are coming!” it screamed again.

  Pious opened his eyes as he awoke from an apparent dream. He was lying on the ground covered in a cold sweat, peering out onto the alcove. Pious looked at the sphere in his hand.

  As he looked at it, the Sphere popped open, revealing the triangular talisman from the vision, the necklace component slipping out of the sphere and dangling by its side.

  Tana was kneeling next to him with a blade in one hand and the other hand on his shoulder, shaking him violently. He could hear what sounded like people yelling deeper in the Praetorium, echoing up the stairs.

  “Get up!” shouted Tana, slapping him in the face. Pious peered back a
t her through a cloud of disorientation.

  “Get up, now!” she yelled. Pious felt his senses return, as well as his mental acuity. He snatched the triangular Talisman and dropped the sphere, then rapidly stood and ran to the entrance of the room. He closed the door, then ran to an armoire and pushed it in front of the door, barring the door shut. He placed the talisman around his neck and hid it under his tunic.

  Pious went over to his sword stand. To his disappointment, an empty slot marked where the Justblade should have been. Pious’s armour lay in a pile on the floor; the manikin on which it was placed on had been thrown to the ground. Pious started removing the standard–issue Militia armour, throwing it behind him onto the ground.

  Tana looked at him in confusion. “What are you doing?” she asked, taking a few steps towards him.

  Pious picked up a light mail shirt and threw it on over his tunic. He reached down and picked up his breastplate.

  “Leave it! We don’t have time for this!” shouted Tana.

  Pious turned to face her while he tightened the straps by his side. “No. If I am going to die, I want to die in my colours,”. He picked up the shin–guards and vambraces and sat on a chair against the wall. Tana grumbled in frustration as she walked towards him and kneeled to the ground. She put her hand out and looked at him irately.

  “Give me those,” she said, nodding toward the shin–guards. “You stubborn bastard,”

  Pious chuckled and gave them to her. She started to fix the shin–guards over his boots, strapping them in place with haste. Pious fixed the last strap in place on his vambraces as Tana pulled the last strap tight. Pious stood up and tested the fastness of his fittings. He reached down and picked up his mantle from the floor, throwing it around his shoulders and fixing it in place on the breastplate.

  Tana looked Pious up and down and smiled at him. “Very pretty. Now, can we get the fuck out of here?” she said, her expression one of chastisement as she pointed towards the Sky–Ring and handed Pious his sword.

  Pious ran into the alcove, and towards the heavy curtain, blowing slightly in the gentle breeze, which separated the alcove from the Sky–Bridge. Sword in hand, he charged through the curtain.

  The Sky–Ring

  “At the top of each Focal tower is a large metal bridge that connects to a large suspended torus, called the Sky–Ring. Rising from the Dome of the Decree, and penetrating the centre of the Sky–Ring, is a large spire called the Lightmark, with a smaller interconnected Inner–Torus…”

  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.

  Pious and Tana stood in awe as they scanned the Sky–Ring and the Inner Torus. In the sky above, an aerial battle raged – silhouetted by the sickening black mass of Nox dominating the sky. Attaran Dragoons with their heavy lances, riding atop Vespaxes, charged into Battle-Bishop from Magupat, astride their battle–trained Seagles.

  “How can they possibly be flying here?” shouted Tana, pointing to the creatures flying in the sky above.

  “Look! The Emanators are no longer active – they are not spinning!” shouted Pious, as he pointed to a metallic fork-like device, its three prongs arranged in a triangle atop the Praetorium, which sat motionless.

  On the Inner Torus, a ferocious melee was taking place, with many assailants attacking each other. The hopelessly outnumbered white–clad forces from Magupat were fighting the Attaran forces, who had descended from the sky on their Vespaxes. To the surprise of Pious and Tana, Praetorian Authoritor fought alongside the Attarans, aiding in their relentless attack on the Magupat.

  The forces of Magupat were staunchly defending a path from the Operarium Focal Tower, blocking any further progress by the Attarans who were viciously fighting their way to the Tower. Several riderless and saddled Seagles were aiding the Battle-Bishops, slashing at the Attarans with their ferocious claws.

  “Why would Magupat be aiding Sanctuary?” Tana yelled, trying to have her voice heard over the screech of the Seagles and the heavy droning of the Vespaxes' wings.

  “I have no idea. This is madness!” shouted Pious, mesmerised by the carnage – watching a Battle-Bishop falling from the sky after being lanced by a dragoon.

  “Look!” yelled Tana, pointing towards the opposite side of the Sky–Ring, in the direction of the Operarium. A hooded child, dressed in the attire of a Page, emerged from the Operarium alcove and onto the Sky–Ring, escorted by two heavily armoured Battle-Bishop Vanguard. The Vanguard were covered in blood and limping, their battle sabres held in unfaltering readiness.

  “It’s Jacq!” shouted Pious, as he sprinted towards them, descending the long bridge that joined the Sky–Ring with the Inner Torus.

  “Pious, wait!” shouted Tana. She drew her Graces and ran after him.

  As he approached the Inner Torus, Authoritor Centurions with their backs to him blocked his path onwards – unaware of the juggernaut approaching. While the Authoritor were distracted by their push towards their target, he charged towards them and hit one with all his body weight, striking him with his hip and shoulder and knocking the Centurion over the rail.

  Tana spun in from the side, taking step after step of the spiralling Cutting Wind dance – constant pirouettes, left hand with upward Grace slicing horizontally; right hand with Grace downwards, following the course of the left like a whirlwind. Her blades connected relentlessly against necks and torsos, slipping easily by the segregations in their armour. While Pious dominated his opponents with experience, fury and force, Tana did it with elegance and an unsettling smile.

  Pious and Tana forged their way through to the Inner Torus – slashing, ducking, diving and kicking their way through the midst of their enemies. The Surge pounded relentlessly through their chests. They found themselves on the adjoining bridge to the Operarium Tower, not far from the front line of Battle-Bishops fighting back the Attarans. The Battle-Bishops on the front line disengaged and took a few steps backwards, leaving Pious, Tana and two Attarans, of whom Pious and Tana made short work. One of the Battle-Bishops stopped and turned, looking towards another figure.

  The figure walked towards the front line – towards Pious and Tana. Its face was completely obscured by a white covering that revealed only an impression of a face below the surface, with a golden crown atop its head. Its entire body was wrapped in linen bandages with an exquisite white gambeson over the top.

  “The Silent Prince…” Pious muttered to himself, in sheer disbelief.

  “Shit! What is he doing here?” yelled Tana, pointing at the figure with an outstretched Grace. The Silent Prince walked toward the heavily outnumbered frontline as they retreated backwards, forming a wall around Jacq. The Battle-Bishops were being closed in on from all sides, with many being slaughtered by the Attaran and Authoritor forces. Another wave of Attarans rushed at Pious and Tana from the Inner Torus.

  “Hold the rail, now!” shouted a voice, reverberating deep in Pious's mind. The urge to oblige was overwhelming. Pious grabbed Tana around the waist and braced his arms around the metal framework.

  The Silent Prince pushed through the front line of Battle-Bishops and made a fist, causing a high–pitched frequency to fill the air. Then he thrust his hand forward and unleashed an Aetheric burst that threw many of the Attarans backwards. Pious held on to the rail with all his strength as the powerful blast rushed past him, sending many Attarans over the rail of the Inner Torus and plummeting into the battles far below. Then the Silent Prince fell to the floor, with his comrades protecting him.

  A large riderless Seagle flew down and landed on the Inner Torus, where it started attacking the Attaran forces from behind, aiding in clearing a path to Jacq. A Vespax fell from the sky, its delicate wings having been damaged by the Seagle, with the Attaran Dragoon trailing behind, her foot caught in the stirrup.

  The Silent Prince pointed with his l
inen-wrapped hands to the small bone statue suspended around Pious’s neck. “The flute, use the flute!” shouted the voice, the voice seemingly attacking Pious’s will. Pious looked at the small statue around his neck. “A flute?” Pious stammered, as he picked up the small, hollow Naga statue.

  The Silent Prince once again turned to face Pious, and with a pointed finger gestured to the flute. “Do it!” said the voice. The sound of screaming Frystian war cries drew Pious’s attention towards the Praetorium Tower, as a large force of Frystians ran toward the Inner Torus.

  Pious raised the flute to his lips and blew through the mouthpiece. A sound like a deep, groaning wind came forth from its end, and the sound of thunder cracked overhead. Far in the distant horizon, towards Cape Nimbus, the sky erupted with lightning.

  Pious let go of the flute, which swung slightly by its cord before coming to rest and looked over the edge of the Sky Ring. His stomach sank as he noticed several Attarans atop Stelions climbing the walls of the Magistratum and the Sanctum buttresses, firing bolts and throwing javelins from atop their mounts.

  Almost instantaneously, three Vespax flew past Pious, sweeping low and landing just in front of Jacq, their Dragoon’s lances punching right through the armour of the Battle-Bishop Vanguard. As one of the Vanguard pulled himself along a Dragoon’s lance, he grabbed the head of the Dragoon and drove his thumbs into his assailant’s eye–sockets in a last act of defiance. A final Vespax swept low, with a Dragoon officer atop it. The officer reached down and snatched Jacq, pulling him atop the Vespax as it turned slightly and headed to the south. The other two Vespax jumped vertically and turned rapidly, heading in pursuit of their southbound comrade.

  “After them!” cried a female Magupati who stood alongside the Silent Prince, as loudly as she could and with utter desperation. She ran towards a Seagle that was coming towards her. The Vespax were much faster than any Seagle, however, and sped away rapidly, the buzzing of their wings blasting behind them.