“Sir, yes, sir!”
He performed a second headcount to make sure everyone was present, then he gave the order to move out.
As one, they all took the form of rouncey-style horses. Unlike Nolien’s unicorn mutation, these were sleek, light, and streamlined for speed. Also unlike Nolien’s, they were not unique. One could be forgiven for thinking them clones. Four of them shapeshifted saddles and stirrups to allow the priestesses and demons to mount.
Being a gentleman, Eric offered to assist his three female companions. Sagart chuckled and nodded. Once mounted, she pinched his cheek. Annala ascended with all the grace of a lady and thanked him afterward. By then, Kallen was already on her stead, so Eric mounted his. Then they took off across the plains.
Latrot’s interior was less bleak than the demilitarized zone, and completely lacked the ghostly menace of the Orderly Reality Vice, but Eric found it more unsettling. The clouds were in formation like a parade and the snow was evenly packed and flattened. Barren trees grew in a grid pattern and their branches were all straight and uniform. There was nothing crooked, out of place, or out of line.
“Does Order have OCPD?” Eric asked his mount.
“Would you believe that disorder was coined by a theologian?”
Due to Order’s obsession with uniformity, there was no cover for miles, but the Ordercrafter Hunters did not care. Order didn’t trust flesh and blood eyes because he could see with his own through the Grand Obelisk. This enabled elves like Meza and Gunrai to fool him by obscuring his sight. The Ordercrafter Hunters dashed across the plains unseen by anyone but each other. After about two hours at a steady trot, the raiding party arrived at their destination.
Like many other human settlements in Tariatla, the township of Sueno was enclosed by walls. They were a relic of the days when Latrot was infested with monsters like every other country in the world. When Order took over through King Epideus Latrot, he inhibited the mana storms that spawned monsters and ordered the extermination of those already living. However, this did not mean that the walls were now decoration.
Order’s power was greater here than at the border because every brick in the wall bore the Eye of Order. A pair of hands joined the single eye in every third brick. This double symbol was written large on the town’s single gate. Beneath it was a warning: “Nothing can hide from the All-Seeing Eye, nor evade the All-Encompassing Hands. Resistance is Forlorn.”
“In other words,” Eric muttered, “abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”
Annala giggled.
Sagart dismounted and stepped up to the gate. Her mount returned to normal and backed away to watch her work. As infamous as Meza was, Sagart was held in greater esteem. The young elf was eager to see her in action.
“The first step is proving him wrong.” She held her spear straight up like a standard and closed her eyes. “Watch closely, little sister. This is how one becomes the universal key. Zatos 8: 6. ‘While they are saying “Peace, safety, security!”, destruction shall come upon them suddenly’!”
The spear glowed. She opened her eyes and stabbed the gate. Lines of golden-brown energy spider-webbed across its surface. She twisted the spear like a key. The gate slipped open little by little, then stopped. Sagart walked through the narrow gap. Annala and Perrault followed her, and Kallen and Eric followed Annala. Meza held back to issue orders.
“Alice, Bob, you stay here and watch for incoming drones. If any come, do not engage. Instead, inform me right away. Understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
Both of them grew wings and flapped to gain a better vantage point.
“Danielle, Eagon, block the gate and keep it open. I trust you taught her that application of the gauntlet?”
The younger clenched her gauntleted fist. “Yes, sir, you can count on us.”
She ran to the left side of the gate and slammed her right hand into it. Chanting chaotic verses, she activated its power and disabled the gate’s automatic closing feature. Her upperclassmen took the right side.
“The rest of you are with me for now.”
Sueno was a town like many towns in Roalt. There were brick and mortar buildings connected by streets. There was a mall, schools, homes, and even a park buried in snow. It would feel comfortable if one could overlook the eerie precision and omnipresence of Order.
The streets were ruler straight and immaculate. Each building matched the one next to and across from it like a mirror. The only difference was its label. There were no dings, scratches, or any sign that someone played, worked, or lived here. Like an inhumanly beautiful reaper, Eric found it too perfect to be real. He blinked on Magic Sight and he saw absolutely nothing. He could not see any mana outside of himself and his companions. It was as if the world around him didn’t exist. This was the work of the town’s five obelisks.
One stood at each of the four cardinal directions and one more marked the center. Linked together into a network, the center obelisk’s power was amplified by the other four, and then radiated outward to amplify them in turn. Five layers of orderly dominance imposed themselves without mercy onto the souls of all who lived here.
Doubling as clock towers, Eric imagined them regulating every second of the people’s lives: at dawn waking everyone up, and at curfew, sending them all home. He could even imagine them falling asleep simultaneously. That was the power of the Orderly Compliance Array.
At the Mana Mutation Summit in Roalt, this was what Lunas proposed setting up in every town in the world to solve the problem. Annala explained to the delegates everything else it would do, but it didn’t prepare Eric for the reality. He pulled his poncho closer.
“Is it really safe to be here?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” Sagart chided. “We have the power of Lady Chaos, the experience of myself and Meza, and the technology of Gunrai and Nunnal. Those things cannot stop us.”
Killing intent arose within her. It was wrath of which Eric only sensed from monsters. A chaotic golden-brown aura arose around her. A small gust rustled her skirt and hair. She pointed one hand at the northern obelisk and recited, “Book of Zatos 7: 15-1 ‘Thus says The Trickster, a single spear can change fate.’”
A beam of chaotic light shot from her hand and struck the obelisk like a bolt of lightning. It punched through the clock and out the back. Immediately, the oppressive feeling in the air diminished. Meza raised his gauntleted hand and said, “Book of Zatos 7: 16-10 ‘Thus says The Trickster: I will clothe you in the wool of the sheep and the fur of the wolf. You shall be like a thief in the night.’”
A beam shot from his hand and flew through the same area. Again, the atmosphere became oppressive but thin. It was fake. Sagart and Meza continued alternating until the power of the northern obelisk was gone and only the facsimile remained.
“Is this why they call you ‘Iron Pyrite’?” Eric asked.
Meza grinned. “One of many. Acolyte, give it a try.”
Annala nodded, raised her hand to the southern obelisk, and recited the same scripture. A beam of light left her hand but did no damage. Perrault lay on the ground peacefully and slowly wagged her tail. Annala looked to Sagart.
“You don’t have enough hate,” the elder priestess replied. “You’re a nice girl, and that will help with benevolent holy magic, but what we need now is fury. Hatred is part of chaos; the desire to tear something down so thoroughly that nothing remains.”
Annala nodded and focused on her reasons to hate Order: the denial of her free will, the revocation of her deity’s grace, the perversion of her love for Eric into emotional dependence. Then it came. Hot and turbulent, it rose from her stomach and filled her mind. An angry aura arose around her and a gust rustled her skirt and veil.
“That’s it! Let the hate flow through you!”
Perrault raised her hackles and growled. Annala opened her eyes and snarled.
“Woe to you princes and enforcers! Hypocrites all!”
She threw forth her hands and screamed. Chaotic light
streamed from her fingertips and into the southern obelisk. It disappeared. She had vaporized it. As a result, the oppressive feeling in the air diminished significantly.
Meza whistled and Sagart clapped. Annala bowed in acknowledgement. Her eyes reminded Eric of his true form; a monster’s madness. In a blink, they were elven and worried.
“Did I overdo it?” She raised her hands to her mouth. “Order will notice that! He’ll—”
Sagart grabbed her hands and pulled them down. “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”
Meza gestured to the area where the obelisk stood and one of his remaining followers rushed there with a device in his hands. Moments later, a likeness of an obelisk rose in its place. Annala looked at the ground and sagged her shoulders.
“I feel like a rock.”
Perrault pressed her head against the back of Annala’s legs. Sagart pressed Annala’s head to her chest.
“You’re like magma and you should be,” Sagart said softly. “Chaos is a multitude of forms and emotions, and as her priestess, you should be too. The dividing line is between cowardice and caution. Understand?”
“Yes, elder sister.”
“Then demonstrate your understanding.”
Annala nodded. She faced the central obelisk and called up more hate. The aura returned and her hands sparked with chaotic fury. She threw them to either side and cast golden-brown destruction to the east and west obelisk. Their spires vanished. Annala dropped her hands and caught her breath while Meza and one of his followers cast the Iron Pyrite spell. Sagart raised her crosier, but Annala lifted her hand.
“Please, elder sister, let me do this one too. It’s a personal matter.”
Sagart lowered her crosier. “Very well. Show me what you can do.”
Annala unshouldered her bow and nocked an arrow. She drew it at the central obelisk and a magic circle appeared beneath her feet. Many and complex runes whizzed in and out as the bow ran calculations. Eric remembered seeing this once before. This was the same magic circle that she used to attack the obelisk that invaded Roalt castle. It used her faith as one of its variables, but the weakness of her faith forced her to toss it out and rely solely on her Seed of Chaos as a secular energy source. Back then, when she was apostate, this led to a dismal failure. Now the arrow shined with holy power.
“Glory to Lady Chaos!”
She loosed the arrow. Tearing through the air and orderly presence, it lodged deeply into the center of mass. Nothing happened. Eric was about to comfort her when again she held up a hand. She returned the bow to her back and snapped the fingers of her other hand. The arrow’s payload detonated. Cracks ran up and down the structure, from the tip of the top to the roots. It remained standing, but its power was broken.
The Ordercrafter Hunters cheered and none were more enthusiastic than Kallen. Sagart smiled benevolently. Eric was too surprised to do anything. Seeing so much power from a girl whom he protected contradicted his human memories, and without those, his grendel mindset was torn between running, hiding, or a pre-emptive strike.
“Fergus, Gust, Heather, you have changeling duty,” Meza said. He was unmoved by the display. “Ian, Jilith, Kaeger; household slaves.”
“Yes, sir!”
They kicked up dust in their haste. Meza walked more sedately.
“The six of us will strike the market.”
When slaves were brought into the town, they were stored in the slave yard at the center. It was adjacent to the town hall and the court of judgment. Five mini obelisks stood on the roof of each building and two more at each door. In addition, three ordercrafters stood at a triangle around the building. Despite the late night, they were as watchful as high noon.
Meza issued orders and the strike commenced.
Wrapped in his Concealing Cloak ability, Eric waltzed right up to the first ordercrafter. Thanks to his spell’s minimalist properties, the guard couldn’t see he was a threat until Eric’s spear pierced his heart. Kallen used Lightning Leap to close the distance in an instant and planted her own spear in her target. These chaotic blades bypassed their foes’ Lawful Shields as if they didn’t exist. After fighting Nulso, these mooks were nothing. Perrault pounced on the remaining guard and ripped him apart. Her claws gouged his armor like deadwood and her teeth bit through bone and spirit alike.
Sagart scaled the building in a single jump and smashed a corner obelisk with her crosier. Then she threw it at the center obelisk and smote it. She ran to retrieve it and it returned to her hand before she was halfway there. She threw it again to destroy a third mini-obelisk. From a neighboring rooftop, Annala notched an arrow and let it soar towards the fourth. Chaotic energy ran up and down its length, rendering it inert. A second arrow did likewise to the fifth.
Meza marched to the front door and hammer-fisted both its mini-obelisks simultaneously. Then he wedged his hands into the crack of the door and forced it open.
Inside was a dark and chilly place. Meza found the light switch and pale lanterns illuminated every corner of the room. Annala gasped at what she saw. She’d read of such places in her studies, and even walked through a virtual reality reconstruction, but the real thing left her speechless and outraged.
Row upon row and stack upon stack of birdcages, and each one containing an elf. They were identical in every way save gender: shaved heads, clipped ears, pale skin, black tunics, and gleaming Subjugation Collars on their necks. All of them were emaciated and so clean their skin was as sterile as a vacuum.
Annala bowed her head and clenched her fists. She marched to the nearest cage and grabbed its bars with both hands. Instantly, they melted. Security measures activated to repel her and she melted them too. Within twenty seconds, the cage was so much sludge.
“You’re leaving,” she said tightly. “Now.”
The slave looked up at her with blank eyes. “Leaving is unlawful,” she said in a dull voice. “I must await my duly designated handler. Leaving is unlawful. I must await my duly designated handler. Leaving is unlawful. I must await my duly designated handler.”
It was a broken voice and it moved Annala to compassion. Reaching into her dress pocket, she withdrew a silver-grey metal scrap. It carried the shape of an “L,” but when she inserted it into the keyhole of the slave girl’s collar, it molded to fit inside.
This was no ordinary lock pick. Her mother gave them a long name, but she herself decided on “Contagious Contradiction” lock pick. It was forged from a piece of the Subjugation Collar that used to be on her own neck. A quartet of contradictions shorted out its control matrix and left modified rule structures in its attempt to solve those contradictions. They were half-baked nonsense and thus utterly useless to ordercrafters, but they were a godsend to elves.
The collar possessed program madness, and with minor tweaks, it could be made contagious. Even now, the young girl’s collar was shorting out by mere contact. It gave up and depowered long before Annala figured out the tumblers. Now it was nothing more than cold metal. Annala shapeshifted stronger hands and ripped it off.
“I am your new duly designated handler.”
“The Law of Order requires me to request proof of such a claim.”
Annala presented the Subjugation Collar. “How could I remove your collar if I was not your new handler?”
“You could be chaotic kidnappers and forced it off.”
Annala waggled her finger and tsked. “Foolish slave. You know the Church of Chaos requires several hours in a cursed location and a profane ritual to force the removal of Subjugation Collars. Seeing as I did so without such tools, I cannot be a chaotic kidnapper.”
The slave girl hesitated.
“The only other alternative is that Order is not as almighty and powerful as he says he is, and Order does not abide lies, so it’s not really an alternative.”
“Uh...Umm...Yes, that is certainly the less likely explanation.” She bowed and said, “Handler, what are your orders?”
Shifting one of her fingers in
to a blade, Annala cut off a strand of her hair. She placed it into the younger elf’s hands and gave her a gentle smile.
“You must be hungry. This will make you feel better.”
A faint chaotic pulse traveled through the slave’s body. It reached deep to connect with her tightly repressed Seed of Chaos and awakened an ancient longing. A rumbling stomach concurred. She placed the hairs into her mouth and swallowed.
A perfect copy of Annala’s DNA entered her system and a fragment of Annala’s Twin Seeds leeched into her blood. A little color returned to her skin and a little awareness returned to her eyes. Her hair started re-growing and her ears resumed their natural shape.
“W-who are you?” she asked.
Annala crouched to be eye-level with her. “I’m Annala, and I want to be your friend. What is your name?”
“Slave 43, ma’am.”
Annala took the girl’s head in her hands and kissed her bald crown, sending a pulse of chaotic love through her body, mind, and soul. The girl shivered and twitched as it pushed past strands of orderly influence.
“What is your name?” Annala asked again.
By the time she finished the question, the girl had a full head of golden-brown hair.
“Cinder. At least, that’s what my mother said before she disappeared.”
By the time she finished her answer, her hair had passed her ears and then stopped. It had returned to its previous state.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Annala said. “I’ll do what I can to find her.”
“You will?!” Immediately, she was bowing again. “Thank you very much, Mistress! I will work extra hard to repay your benevolence to this unworthy creature.”
Annala grimaced, but her own experience quickly led her to understanding. She took Cinder by the hand and raised her head. With a properly authoritarian tone, she said, “As your Mistress, I command you to be your own mistress. Nothing would make me happier than to see you make your own decisions.”
The girl’s brow furrowed as she tried to process this command and how to fulfill it. “…O…kay…How do I do that?”
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