Chapter 2
2.21.3.3.1.389
‘The islands have fallen silent and we dare not find out why. The Emperor and The Court believe that the ice has frozen their sinister hearts into submission but that is not what we believe. There are rumours in the market that they are building something. Others say that their forms may change at will, or they have taken the Priestesses souls for their own gain, and their image for their own design. We are being told nothing.’
August 5th Axere - Undisclosed Location
For those that fall victim of storms, the dead, some miraculously float away and drift to land. For some of them, this means unconscious and unfortunate floating to desert islands, although beautiful, deadly and baron. Some wind up on another ship have starved, half mad. But those that have sailed too close to the waters near the Bermuda and suffered its wrath, well those men and women, although alone, drift to civilized shores. These people speak their tongue, although many are not native to it. They live their lives at their own pace to other societies and they never, ever leave.
Across the Carachi Mountains, beyond the river Naiades, skimming the tiled roofs of Taeno, floating past the market stall’s billowing fabrics at Torma, laid an island. The island shrouded in wind. This island, the home to so many dreams and hopes for the people of Althonia were tempered into reality. Their views melded together, peace was wrought from iron wills. The island was a mirror of the entire nation, the pillar of society. the home to the ruling hand of the empire and it's islands but all this was a facade. The decisions made here, were crafted in a less conspicuous place, a dimly lit back room in the capital of Axere with thick curtains that barred light and prying eyes. Watchmen kept secrets in, and the walls kept people out.
As the First Chair of the council raised from his seat, he disrobed himself and sternly addressed his fellow councillors. “As you know we have been dealing with the women under the wing of the Matriarch. And for some time now we have been building up to a moment I have not yet released to you. The time is now. We will entrap them with covert agents in designed riots and associated activities. We will attack the leader of each brigade in succession among each rank till we reach the white woman ourselves. Powerless and with no minion standing at her side we shall take back our people’s freedom.” Cheers of approval came from the chamber. “The rules of the empire must be enforced and we all know their past with these. New modifications to the Code of Laws have been made to legalize our actions. Do I have your support to carry out these new laws and for what I have named operation ‘Eburnus Pave’ or for you less scholarly White Peacock? My assistant here will hand out reports of the matter.” As he spoke a man of little distinguish but broad form hurried round the shadows and delivered each council member a document on the new laws.
“Under the treatment of Sentinels, amendment two, surely death is not the right course of action. Life imprisonment suggested in the previous amendment and public humiliation will surely suffice?” Another councillor spoke.
“The people of the Ohrianian Alliance have no major dealings in this matter. From the perspective of Cassian and the Regency a shock tactic will impact greater than just a humiliation. We cannot risk the escape of any Brigade leader. If there is a rescue attempt we will kill on site. I’m sorry if this does not appeal to your senses but times are worrying for us all and these women need to be stopped before other matters get out of hand.”
“Agreed.” The Ohrianian Chairs started to talk amongst themselves
From the opposite side of the table the four chairs of the Cassian council stopped talking. The Councillor for Treasury questioned “Who will be responsible for register of Defender names?”
“Augustine Caplin who has been recently employed will deal with the names.” Murmurs again arouse from the chamber, mutterings between each party rose.
The Councillor for the Treasury coughed and all fell silent. “Can we trust him?”
“I have had several meetings with him.” His eyes darted again. “His handshake is firm and his loyalty boundless. We have also placed him under the Iron Contract. You should know the penalty for breaking this, even the newest councillor on the Cassian council.” The newest councillor started to sweat a little his leg started to twitch as he succumbed to the nerves he had tried to hide. “Sorry to have put undue focus on you. Are there any more queries?”
“I understand the amendments made to the treatment of Valeons but why the change to the treatment of Ordained?” There came a few concurring noises.
“I see this may be an issue un-raised in the council before I joined. We all know that Ordained have little power on our soil. They barely scrape a criminal record between them. The Valeons on the other hand have a strong underground network and of course as we have found out first hand, still with inherit abilities Exploitation of these powers will prove imperative if we are to carry out our plan. These women know what they are doing, confuse them with any sort of distraction created from a Valeon and we have the ideal circumstances to apprehend. I do hope you can empathize with me in a greater concern for our people as a whole, rather than a few that may be slightly inconvenienced. The Ordination are like marbles when compared to the boulders of the Valeon and Sentinel threats.”
“I will always feel this is not right, but as first chair you do have our people’s lives, minds and hearts at the core of your concerns. The Cassian council consent to these changes.”
“The Ohrianians consent to the changes.”
“The Regency consent to these changes.”
“I would like to thank you for this meeting at such short notice. As a gesture of appreciation I have offered up provisions free of charge to all vessels and for those who travelled by carriage, these provisions have been divided up between your council members and delivered to your homes. The council is adjourned.” Each separate council left together into private coaches that waited outside. Curtains were drawn back to reveal a busy street, lined wit houses and shops. The council chambers were one of the best kept secrets in the entire empire. Not only was it in plain sight, everyone knew about it. The Aristotle building was home to ancient artefacts of the Mediterranean. In a mock reconstruction of one of the temples to Zeus a door was placed at the back, far from the restrained view of the public. Behind here was the room to the council chambers.
“Could you please clean these up?” Said the Minister. “Oh and tell the scribe thank you for such delicate work.” He pulled some papers out of the drawer where he had sat before making his speech. The indistinguishable man hurried again back round the room, lighting the candles on the wall and snuffing out those on the table. The ambient glow and the widow light was more than enough so the curtains were shut a little. As the servant left the room he knocked shoulders with another person. A gentleman, devoured by worry and in obvious plight. He shakily apologized and slid himself through the door, his eyes darting from this way to that checking every structure and feature.
“For the sake of the Empire man stop acting like that. You will be more noticeable than coal on snow.” The Minister welcomed with a defensive tone. “Now what has brought you here? Right after a council meeting I may add.”
“It’s them, they know. I hear them. I hear them.” He stressed.
“Anthony who knows what?” The Minister raised himself and held the man down on his chair in one swift move.
“Them, you know them. The Empress is gone and they know.”
“Calm down Anthony. You haven’t told anyone have you?”
“I swear on the Empresses life no.” He started to hysterically laugh. “That’s funny isn’t it. Nobody knows where she is. If she's alive or if she's dead. Not even us.”
“Will you keep your voice down! Just sit there while I close the curtains. As he turned his back, Anthony started to pace the room. “For the love of the empire stop it. You’re going to get this place found out.” The Minister shouted back. “Plus you’re putting me on edge now explain who ‘they’ are!”
“The women, the women. The women under the white feather, the daughters of the peacock, they know, they know, I tell you, I didn’t tell them, so stop shouting at me, they know and I did not tell them.”
“Anthony…will you please calm down.” He said sternly. Anthony cowered behind a potted fern. “Come out from behind there."
“They know, the women under the white feather. The daughters of the peacock, they know, they know.” He started to repeat this phrase over and over again till he started to babble.
“Anthony. I am sorry that you had to brave the winds of the Bastion, and come back with news and somehow still alive. Only a few have been able to come back and I was stupid to belive that you would come back unscathed. May there be a blessing upon you. I will find a doctor at St Hellion’s unit. The remote setting outside of Isoquia will you a world of good... Magnus.” He shouted.” Stop guarding that door and come in here.”
A large man, thick as two planks of wood and stronger than granite walked heavy footed into the room.
“Will you take this gentleman to my private costal ship. The small one. Ask the driver to take him to Pankhurst Island and ask for Doctor Cayble. Tell him that I sent this patient. He is suffering delusions and paranoia.”
The oaf grunted and walked out with Anthony still shaking. “Poor, Poor man.” He sat back down shaking his head and sighing. “Now where is my document from Devasse? Ah.”
Emmet looked over an updated report by Councilman Devasse who had called for a greater effort to find more Ancestor sites, be it archaeological ruins or caves at the start of the year. He stressed that it should be on focused on her province’s islands. That was to say the Ohrianian islands of Isoquia, Lupatis and Ardere. There had already been findings such as the Temple Complex of the Isoquian Jewel and other settlements. Lupatis was famous for being the resting place of the Ancestors before they became enlightened and rose up into the steep jagged peaks and plateaus to become closer to the moon.. Ardere was bare of all life. Nothing could live there; the soil was burnt and mainly comprised on pumice and ash and the air was tainted with residuals of pyroclastic eruptions from the volcano. So the focus turned back on Isoquia once again.
The report stated that the Sand Villages of Isoquia became over run with Imperials. Researchers, documenters, explorers and archaeologists all took roost like bats in the wooden huts of the locals homes. Houses became barracks, the local market became base camp and the small ports were inundated with ships. The Isoquians became trapped in their own homes. They couldn’t venture into the rainforest for fear of subzero temperatures that the jewel caused during the many moon phases and couldn’t force the Imperials out, for fear of being arrested for treason. All they could do was wait for them to leave.
It took a few weeks and a lot of suffering at the hands of the wildlife and the temperatures, not to mention the living conditions until scholars found what Councilman Devasse was looking for. With the unlit night sky the rainforest kept its tropical state. This was the time that the teams would venture in for an all night and day trip. There weren’t many of these excursions, only three and the last one proved to be fruitful. Fruitful enough for the whole of the Imperials to be recalled and to evaluate their finding back on San Helio. Nothing further came from the expedition apart from increased harsh warnings and restrictions placed on the rainforest..
In Devasse's report Dr Jacob Lyall and a class from Mehnos Academy somehow was given permission for a field expedition to the Isoquian Jewel. The rest of the report was more hastily scrawled than documented by a scribe. Devasse was talented in storytelling and her reports read more like tales that government documents but this was by her hand, and that meant something was deeply wrong.
The Birds of Paradise were squawking and singing; the wildlife was abundant and peaceful. The plants gave birth to flowers and the flowers gave birth to colour and new life. Dr Lyall and Professor James Thorne and their respective classes had arrived over at one of the Sand Villages via a smallish boat from the Docks of the Academy. They carried along with them expedition equipment, books and research and rations. But nothing could beat the food of the Sand Tribes. The tribes caught fish from the sea, wildfowl from the forest and herbs from practically everywhere. They made their own charcoal and they made their own huts, self sustainable with the wildlife around them. They lived high on stilted abodes but built to last. Some of them were even centuries old and were passed down through each generation.
It was already about seven in the evening and the tribe’s hospitality danced long into the night. Wondrous food, music and entertainment, and one of the best nights sleep in a long time. Emmet tutted, this document was littered with metaphor and atmosphere, it was almost too thickly laid on to read, let alone bare. They would set the next day, as that following night there was predicted an eclipse and supposedly the inscriptions on the ruins of the Temple Complex lit up with a bluish white light that supposedly helped regenerate the forest and keep the power of the jewel, and that had to be documented.
So the day came and the class left. They decided to bring along a local, Marhan, instead of their map. He knew the forest like the back of his hand; he alone would lead them through.. It took a few good hours from dawn until they reached a complex. Its ruins were covered in inscriptions and the buildings were masterful to behold. What was strange thought was that no animal was to be found. There were no birds flying overhead in the clearing. No animals scurrying about on the tree line and no insect underfoot. They shook it off to be consecrated ground and the powers of the Ancestors protected this site from the animals that could devastate it. But there was no jewel, there was no tower, this was not the right temple nor had and living man stepped onto these ruins for eons.
Underground the guardians awoke from a ravenous slumber, the steps of the class echoed in their ears as they trespassed on the temple ground. They scattered, leaving their nests and carcases for the fresh delivery of meat. This was obviously conjecture. She didn’t know any of this, she couldn't have. It was hard to tell how much of her report was fact or fiction. Above, the class and the teachers were still discovering their surroundings. They had set up a small camp fire and settled in for the night. The jewel wasn’t here but it would still freeze them if the lunar eclipse wasn’t on the verge of darkening the sky. They could work by candle and crystal light. The fire cracked and the embers glowed. The sounds of snapping twigs and branches were masked by the discussion of tonight’s event. The eyes were unnoticed by the children eating barbequed foul. The high pitched screeching was mistaken for an animal that was harmless. And the swaying of the trees was attributed to the unfelt wind, and the fire grew dim.
The moon began to darken as the scriptures began to glow. Everyone fell silent as the show began. The carvings in the pillars of the temple started to glow first. It was a gentle glimmering but it was far from the bluish white that was expected from the Jewel temple.. Rather a bloody blazon red. What seemed to be impossible began to happen; the other writings began to catch, like wildfire with the glow. Nobody knew what was happening but they were entranced by this mystery.
What then came was a screech that froze the blood in the children’s veins. Another that sent shivers up the spines of the innocent. And a final scream that echoed in ruins. The guide and the teacher urged the children to move into the temple structure away from the edge of the forest. This is what the guardians wanted. Trees around the clearing began to sway and the cracking of trunks terrified the souls of the class. The light from the ruins began to glow fiercely, making it impossible to see out from the temple.
Figures snarled their way closer to the temple. A girl at the back screamed and everyone began to panic. Nobody found out why she fainted but she was lucky, mistaken for dead but froze to death after the eclipse. The figures began to circle them, their shape on eight legs. Matted hair and claws. The light from the ruins blinded the sacrifices as the guardians, swift and ferociously, tore into their soft flesh. It was over in a few seconds. The pain those children must have felt could never be described. Their blood now poured into the writings chiselled into the floor, gushing to a small crypt coffin made solely out of black marble. The blood still following the engravings flowing vertically up the sides of the coffin until every single inscription on it was filled with innocent blood. At the centre was a small design unremarkable yet so familiar filled with the remaining blood.
What happened with the added presence of blood was quite extraordinary. The glow from the ruins was seemingly sucked back to the temple. You could see the lights under the blood seeping back to the design and the blood began to boil. When all the lights had disappeared back to whence they came, and as the eclipse began to fade, the blood began to be absorbed by the temple and the coffin. It's very foundations began to rumble and the stone started to warm. Where the blood used to be there was a distinctive smell of smoke and burning flesh. The bodies of the dead were dragged off back to the nests of the creatures.
Jacob, who had ignored the warnings of going alone to relieve himself had spied the horror and ran, he knew if he got lost the cold would kill him, but it would be better than being eaten alive. With the first light of the moon, refracted in the Isoquian Jewel, showering pure cold upon the rainforest, he ran as far and as fast as he could. Only to fail reaching near the end of the rainforest and froze. But the gods took pity on him, some say, and only hours later the villagers from the Sand Village found his body and brought him to a fire on the beach. The cold had just slowed him or perhaps it was some mystical healing but his heart was still beating, jsut. He was taken to Saint Hellions for treatment and later interviewed by Astri, the Dean of Mehnos Acadamy, while on his bed. At the near end of the interview Jacob’s condition worsened, and a fever began to develop. His whole body rose in temperature rapidly. Nothing could be done. Astri had left as he had ‘pressing engagements’ but as his last footsteps left the reception of the hospital Jacob violently, with scream filled agony that would haunt some of the nursing staff till their graves, burst into chaotic flames. It was over in seconds, but what seemed like minutes for him. His suffering was over.
“She certainly does have a unique flair for the reports. Unfortunate that half of this might be more fiction than fact. Genevieve will not be happy about this but she will give me a proper report. I just hope her wheelchair is all terrain.” He chuckled to himself and looked around for appreciation of his humour but realised he was alone. He signed the letter he had penned while reading folded it and stamped his insignia into the wax. “Magnus, deliver this letter to Madame Genevieve Castillo and ignore any insults she may give you. I believe the date is near her husband’s disappearance and she won't be in the most sociable frames of mind. Especially after she reads this.”
