Serial
37: Threshold
January
11th, 33 S.D. 11:17 Sventa, Central Plains
Losha sat alone in her quarters, perched on the edge of her bed. Leaning forward with her elbows propped against her knees, she steepled and laced her fingers together, forming a base for her chin to rest upon. In silence, in stillness, she remained there with her eyes shut. Her mind shifted through various contemplations, reasoning through theories and calculations. On the night-stand just beside her, a half-dozen sheets of paper were scattered about in haphazard fashion. Upon them, Losha had inscribed a number of notes as well as several diagrams. In every sense the theory - at least its basic principles - was finished. The only phase left to complete, the actual application, eluded her, however.
Though the memories of that fateful night but months ago greatly pained her, Losha had no option but to recall its events and details. After all, that had been the one and only time she’d ever observed the servai, the same series she was currently trying to recreate. Nabel Viska had designed it as a tool of destruction, a series that attacked the very soul and the seras it contained. He had used it to kill both people long ago and the very master she looked up to. Losha’s utmost beliefs about serialization dictated that the art be used as a force to help rather than harm. It wasn’t simply because of Nabel’s “test” that she felt this way; this was a philosophy of her own making.
Therein resided her conundrum, the issue of her conscience. She’d already used serialization to attack and disable people in battle, and though her means proved non-lethal, they nevertheless stood as acts of violence. Yet, in the grander view, she was using serialization to create peace, or so she hoped. Did she dare take serialization and warfare further? When would she cross the line and betray her own ideals? The answers before her appeared foggily at best, however, she felt that the path forward in this case was faith. To her, she imagined that as long as she did not abuse the power of the servai and wisely wielded it, even this potentially frightening series could play a role in changing the Central Plains for the better. It could... if she could ever master it.
All at once, she opened her eyes and raised her head. With a deep breath, Losha inhaled for a long moment. Afterwards, she held out her hand and once again tried to summon her servai. She had only seen the servai in person at a glimpse, however, even that much exposure provided enough details for her to start her own version. Using her knowledge of serialization, Losha had reverse engineered Nabel’s series, at least to some extent. The general idea of the servai consisted of manifesting raw seras into a specific shape. The given shape she’d selected would model a blade. By simply maintaining a concentrated aggregation of raw seras into an unchanging form, a serialist such as herself could forge something equivalent to a sword made of seras.
By her understanding, the servai damaged people by ripping away their seras. If a servai of one soul clashed with another soul, the dense collection of seras in the servai would dispel or eject the seras of the opposing soul. Lose too much seras and one died. That was her comprehension of the subject so far, at least based on the one tragic event that had been demonstrated to her. There were certainly many more mysteries she had not even begun to recognize, but those she would discover in due time.
Focusing herself on the trial, she stared intensely forward as she started gathering seras. A blue glow enveloped her arm as its radiance danced across her skin. Though she had not perfected her skills in manipulating raw seras, she had been training to develop a finer, more exact control over the process. She could perform a handful of series with raw seras, but a weapon like this was certainly a far cry from a mere ball of light. Even so, she pushed herself to exceed her current level.
Eventually, a mass of light balled up near her palm. Losha commanded it to stretch and extend so that it might replicate what she envisioned in her mind. Slowly, it became more and more defined as its length increased and it grew thinner. The body of her fledgling servai looked like a roughly hewed beam of a sort, straight but neither clean nor smooth. This shape, while largely constant, did occasionally flicker as points of its construction warped but shortly. These results, so far, were pleasing. She’d yet to progress this much in all of her previous attempts. Though the series was premature, she wanted to go further.
Her hand flexed open before it clamped down tightly around her servai. However, as her hand tried to grip the shining energy, the raw seras suddenly turned unstable. All at once, the rod-like shape dissipated. It seemingly slipped from her grasp, splitting into two before evaporating into nothing. A sizzling sound accompanied the event. Her face held a look of surprise and wonder for a time as she turned her fist around, over and over. She hadn’t expected that to happen at all, and she knew not why it had taken place either. Though Losha was glad she had achieved even this much, there still remained more work to do. How did Nabel make it so one could hold a servai? Though it was nothing more than a lump of seras, he’d turned it into something mere hands could work with. How had he changed its appearance? The servai Losha remembered had looked indistinguishable from any other variety of sword she’d seen. These details were not immediately obvious to her current understanding. In time however...
At that moment, Tami walked by the door. He called out to her from the hallway. “Are you ready, Losha?” he asked, peering into the room.
“Sa,” she said, dropping her hand to the side. “I will join you in a moment.”
Tami nodded and walked off, but only a few paces away. She’d had to save this sort of training for a later date. If she and the others of WOLFWIND had guessed correctly, they were due for their next assignment. They could think of no other reason for their summons in the fort’s war room. Losha sighed softly as she stood up. The sooner she went to battle, the sooner they could be at peace.
“It is nothing short of egregious,” said a seated Core Lead. The third floor of the fort, by design, was also the smallest. Even given that fact, it served one of the most important roles. Here, the third division’s leading officers came together to discuss topics of great depth. Troop formations, daily reports on suspected enemy activity, combat readiness, and all the tactics they would employ in battle. Today, they were in the process of planning a vital mission. At a large, elongated wooden table, Losha, Tami, Faima, and Yega sat on one side along with Boz. Opposite of them, three Core Leads, a Range Lead, and the second division’s Prime Lead looked over the documents being passed around.
“To think that Henron would have the will to assert their ownership of the Talimer Forest,” the same Core Lead fumed.
“To be more precise,” Boz said. “They have officially said nothing of the matter. However, as the Gandians often say, actions speak volumes.”
“Sa,” nodded a rather tall, female Core Lead. “And what actions they have taken, wiping out the entirety of our forces save for, what was it again, just two of our clan members?”
“Indeed,” Boz resumed. “Henron has effectively wrested control of the Talimer Forest right from us, and they hardly spared what little forces were stationed there to begin with.”
The Prime Lead, Kint Visil Sventa, was a completely different commander from Levias Holvate Sventa, the second division’s Prime Lead. Losha saw that Kint’s conduct and attitude made him into a sort of gentleman among his colleagues, something she could scarcely say of her own relative. The two leaders both discerned military situations with a shrewd eye, but whereas Levias remained a product of the Central Plains’ violent history, Kint at least seemed to have grown weary of all the brutality.
“It is absolutely deplorable. Their slaughter was without sense or shame,” he said, frowning as he held his hands together on the table. He shook his head before speaking again. “Such crimes against our own people shall not go unpunished by due measures. Morally, we will serve justice for our fallen kind. But make no mistake, the Talimer Forest lies at the heart of our conflict. As a martial matter, Sventa cannot allow the Henron to have it.”
Having already seen the reports, Losha inwardly cringed at the Prime Lead’s last few sentences. Near 200 soldiers less than 48 hours prior had lost their lives in the Henron attack. Such pointless tragedy over an altogether asinine dispute. Though she had fought for Sventa, for her clan, she ever failed to see how so much blood could be worth a handful of trees.
“What exactly are we to do about all of this?” asked an especially dark-skinned Core Lead. “I assume we are to strike back as soon as possible, with the help of Ver Holvate.”
“That is the general idea,” Kint affirmed. “Which is why you can see Ver Delte and Ver Holvate in our presence. Of course, a situation of this ilk deserves careful attention. There are a number of details that must be refined before our counter-offensive can commence. Ver Holvate may be a warrior without equal, but we shall not send her team forward without forethought. Now, if Boz would be so kind as to enlighten us on aspects not touched upon in the rather curt reports we have just read.”
“Of course,” Boz said, standing up. He moved in front of a large map posted on the wall to his left. “As we all know, Henron has effectively invaded Sventa. They have a force of unknown size currently occupying our land. However, we can extrapolate some data based on what has so far occurred.” Boz pointed and gestured at the chart behind him. “We cannot discount that their numbers may be sizable, perhaps as large as an order.”
“What makes you say that?” asked the sole Range Lead in this discussion.
“Sa,” said the dark Core Lead. “The Sholat River is no easy thing to cross. We regularly destroy any bridges they have attempted to set up over the years. Normally, the only way past the Sholat River is at its head; this division’s sentries surely would have spotted any of their movements. The second division would have seen them as well.
To
merely say they were somehow able to move such a large number of
soldiers to the Talimer Forest without our notice in so short a
period of time speaks lightly of my disbelief.”
“Ordinarily, that would be true enough. The Sholat River does not freeze. However, it can temporarily be dammed.” All brows in the room raised at Boz’s statement.
“Do explain, Ver Delte,” the female Core Lead said as she leaned forward. “This is the first I have ever heard of such a thing.”
“And it should be. What you are about to hear is strictly classified, or at least it was; the secret has probably since been exposed. I do not doubt that what I am about to tell you, Henron has just done the same to cross into Sventa. At any rate, our engineers were at one point trying to conceive of a way to build a suitable bridge ourselves, something that we could quickly construct and required few materials and labor.”
“And what sort of solution was devised?” Prime Lead Kint asked, rubbing his chin.
“It was quite simple, actually. We used water to cross water.” Boz waved a hand to the nearby window. “Snow.”
“Snow?” Kint asked curiously.
“Sa, snow. Certain points of the Sholat River have a depth of only 3 meters at the most. These areas are natural places to simply dam it with snow. With the proper effort, a corps of engineers managed to construct large blocks of packed snow. In this way, they could create a blockade preventing the river’s flow. However, it did not last long enough to actually dry out the other, southern end of the river. Nevertheless, we found it to be a very suitable, albeit short-lived bridge of a sort. It proved far more capable than any of the other projects we sponsored. By assembling the blocks at a separate location, we can simply move to the Sholat River, build a stable bridge in under 30 minutes, and start moving thousands before the hour. With this, we can quickly move into enemy territory in the south despite the river. ”
“Simple, yet smart,” Kint nodded. “But it does not strike me as an especially complicated idea. What has stopped Henron from developing this capability on their own?”
“The method of packing the snow is quite a temperamental process. It is not as intuitive as it sounds. Furthermore, certain considerations are necessary for each block to withstand the river’s flow. Each must be carry an ‘anchor’, basically any solid object of a pre-determined density, usually rocks. Additionally, the blocks have two holes running through them to allow some of the river to easily flow. If the river is completely dammed, it adds too much stress on one side of the bridge, leading to a collapse. Needless to say, any amateurish attempts at recreating our techniques would give them unreliable bridges at best.”
“Then how is it,” the first Core Lead began asking, “that if this was something only we Sventa knew how to do, Henron is now doing it as well?”
“We suspect a spy amongst our own,” Boz said. For a time, no one else could say much of anything. The atmosphere carried a grave and chilling charge.
“Any progress on rooting out the traitor?” Kint inquired, his face a wall of stone. Boz shook his head.
“Unfortunately investigations are still ongoing. As we all know, the Sholat River is only normally crossable up to the north where its head is formed by pooling together three different rivers. The only reason neither our division nor the second division saw any of this coming was due to the fact that Henron simply walked from their backyard into ours. It was a straight line. In the past, they have always had to march around the river’s head just to get to middle and southern Sventa, a long path that makes it easy for us to watch and engage them. Their incursion into the Talimer Forest shows that, at the very least, we can no longer count on the river as a natural barrier between our two lands, during the winter of course.”
“Damn,” the first Core Lead swore. “We can scarcely even begin to consider how many Henron are poring through there as we speak. It could be a handful of squads, or their entire army.”
“Yet I fail to see the sense in whatever they are planning to do,” said the female officer. “It offers them little in the way of winning this war.”
“It is possible,” Losha spoke up for the first time, “that the Henron may not be thinking about what is best to win the war, but what is best to win what they want: the forest itself. Defeating Sventa may have been their objective beforehand, or rather part of it, however that was when such a goal was both necessary and feasible. Previously, the only way to get to the Talimer Forest would have been to fight through our entire army; they can now waltz into it as they please. Their incentives for engaging our forces head-on have probably significantly decreased in the past few months due to their losses. This option affords them what they have desired all along.”
“Most insightful, Ver Holvate,” she nodded.
“What is more, we must take into account that so far the second division has suffered the greatest loss of personnel,” Boz remarked. “They are technically the weakest. The Henron are perhaps correctly operating under the assumption that WOLFWIND is no longer stationed at Lake Lada. Losha’s mission in Henron last year may have inspired that idea, given how far north she struck.”
“In all likelihood,” Kint said. “The Henron then intend to hold their ground on our grounds and reinforce their presence in the forest. If they can get enough bodies there, they can seize it permanently. Even WOLFWIND has its limits, and at a certain point there are simply too many against a single serialist. They cannot defeat us in a ‘proper’ battle, so they seem to want to take the forest by sheer numbers. However, we shall not allow them.”
“Your plans, Prime Lead?” Boz inquired.
“We will be swift in our strike against them. Ver Holvate, I assume we can have your participation in this operation?”
“Sa. There is not question upon the matter.”
“Very well,” Kint continued. “The forces that attacked us recently are undoubtedly part of an advance unit, likely small and agile. Even with the use of snow-bridges, moving any significant amount of troops across the Sholat River takes time; it is simply a matter of traffic and planning. We will use a highly mobile strike-team of our own, one that is both small yet capable of fending off enemies even when outnumbered.” Kint looked at Losha as he spoke. “WOLFWIND will form the core of the unit. Ver Holvate, we will greatly rely on your strength. Supporting WOLFWIND will be five squads of our Special Operations Corps, lead by Range Lead Aslo Tel Sventa.” Kint nodded over to the Range Lead all the way down the table.
“Special Operations Corps?” the dark Core Lead asked aloud. “Is this something under your command, Boz?”
“Actually, the Special Operations Corps is jointly overseen by myself, the Tabran, and the three Prime Leads of our divisions,” Boz answered. “It is not a widely known force, but rest assured, it is composed of the best we have on offer. Aslo will work to supplement Losha’s team in the field.”
“I do not suppose Levias is happy about any of this,” mused the female Core Lead. “The Talimer Forest is the second division’s domain, and here we come in running the show.”
“That cannot be helped,” Kint shook his head. “The second division has to defend their current position, at least until WOLFWIND makes its move and significantly degrades or defeats the enemy. Levias cannot risk moving large portions of his soldiers into the forest right away. If it turns out the forest is just a diversion, it leaves him vulnerable. He cannot spare smaller contingents to directly deal with the Henron problem either, given the battle of Lake Lada. He knows he has to remain on standby. This is a mission that only an extremely capable detachment of our troops can handle, for the third division is equally on high alert; we all cannot go down there while leaving this front wide open. Boz, go over the Order of Operational Objectives.”
“Sa. WOLFWIND and the secondary squads will travel immediately to the Talimer Forest, stopping by Lake Lada to make final preparations. No later that 0600 hours on January 12th, you will begin your infiltration of the Talimer Forest and reclaim our land. The enemy must be disposed of or expelled from the forest. Clear any and all Henron out by whatever means you deem appropriate. Lastly, you are tasked with putting any of their snow-bridges out of commission. We cannot permit them to maintain any sort of access to the forest. On that subject, Losha, I have a specific objective in mind for you.”
“Sa?”
“We need you to create walls of ice just like you did during the battle of Lake Lada. The structures you made last time still stand in fact. They will hardly be going anywhere until late March. By then, we shall have brought open hostilities to a close. How realistic will it be to use serialization to cut off our side of the Sholat River?”
“It would take some time, perhaps a full day from start to finish, but it is not a particularly demanding task. I should have more than enough seras to complete it quickly.”
“Excellent,” Kint said, looking around at everyone as he nodded. “There is little left to discuss at the moment, aside from some lingering logistics. However, this is a dynamic situation; further command decisions will have to be made by you once you get there, Ver Holvate, Range Lead Aslo.”
“Sa.”
“Understood, Ver Visil,” the two said respectively.
“One more word. Though we must move quickly, do not forget to act carefully. We have bad intel going in. Approach the enemy with caution until you have ascertained their battle strength. They could have any number of troops stationed there already. You, Ver Holvate, are a force unlike anything we or they have ever seen, but you yourself are not an army. Do not jeopardize your safety no matter how strong you are. Your orders are to defeat the Henron, but the second division will support you if things become complicated.”
“Thank you Prime Lead,” Losha said. “I have no intentions of falling in combat.”
A distant look flashed across Kint’s face for all but a moment before he spoke again. “Sa, none of us ever do.”
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