Serial
42: In the details
January
12th, 33 S.D. 10 :52 Talimer Forest, Sventa
“Two broken ribs, likely some internal bleeding, a concussion, multiple lacerations, torn muscle in the arm... Shrieks...” said a medic as he stood up and scratched the side of his head. “It really is a wonder how you even walked away from all of that.”
Losha sat on a large flat rock as she looked up at one of the members from Aslo’s Special Operations Corps. She simply shrugged. “I feel... alright. Perhaps not one-hundred percent, but I am certainly fit to move about.” As if to prove her point, she raised herself to her feet. “I think, in a bit, I should be better.”
“In a bit?” the medic echoed, with a note of incredulity.
“Sa, a day or two should be enough.”
“I-if you say so, Ver Holvate.”
She was of a mind to tell the soldier to refer to her more casually, but she never followed up on this. Instead, she looked around, searching the various people milling about. “Where is Aslo?” she asked.
“The Range Lead is over there,” the medic said, pointing behind him.
“Thank you, I appreciate your help.”
By now she was positive that her wounds were minimized due to her seras. The exact nature of the phenomenon required further study, yet she could say that her rate of healing was abnormal. In Palostrol, she’d never really hurt herself, so she’d not noticed this sort of thing before. Though she knew she’d be fine by tomorrow, she’d still let the medic patch her up.
“Sa! Ver Holvate!” he saluted.
As soon as she’d returned, their unit essentially swarmed over her in a display of victory. Aslo saw what kind of shape she’d gotten herself in and immediately called for aid. She had initially protested; seeing no harm in the measure, however, she relented. As she walked over to Aslo, the soldiers halted their cleanup and pointed at her direction. Some of them raised their weapon and chanted aloud.
“Sven-ta! Sven-ta! Sven-ta!”
Aslo had his back to Losha as he discussed some matter with WOLFWIND and a few others. Upon hearing the liveliness behind him, he turned around to face her.
“Again, I welcome you back Losha,” he nodded. “I see the enemy truly put you through some tough times. How is your status?”
“As I tried to tell you earlier, I am stable. We serialists are resilient, to speak lightly of the subject.”
“I see, that is good then.”
“But that is also rather irrelevant,” she continued. “What about our unit?”
“We won!” Yega said.
“Obviously,” Tami replied. “But she wants to know more than that...”
“Oh...”
“Indeed, as you can see, our forces emerged victorious,” Aslo explained. “Our fight with the Henron was not an easy one, though.”
“Aslo, what about fatalities? I sense less of our seras frequencies that before...”
“Sa. Remarkably, given the odds, we only suffered a loss of seven on our side, compared to the nearly 100 casualties on theirs.”
“Ksh...” Faima said, folding her arms. “That is what happens when you fight top-tier.”
Losha frowned as her eyes ran aground for a moment. Though their own death toll was small, any number at all was too much. What’s more, the Henron had suffered greatly in this battle. This very violence was what she’d been fighting to avoid, and yet it still happened all around her. At least the situation hadn’t been any worse.
“I... I must apologize,” she said, bowing her head. “I sought to ambush them, however, I encountered their leader. She was difficult to defeat. I was unable to render any assistance during the battle... Had I been with you all, the outcome would have-”
“Hey!” Faima barked. “What the hell are you talking about? Wherever it is you are going with this, just shut up.” Aslo looked back slightly with a raised eyebrow as Tami merely shook his head.
“That was forward...” Tami muttered. “But insubordination aside, she is right, Losha. We may have lost some of our own, yet we would have been much worse off without you.”
“Correct,” Aslo spoke up. “We would have been routed right away by the Henron. We had no idea where the b******s were at any given moment. However, that orb you left us, you pulled it back just in time. We retreated and kept low. Miraculously, the enemy passed right by us, and we were able to surprise them from the rear. We figured something had happened to you once it started flashing red.”
“But still, things would have been better for us all had I been here...”
“Are you still one about that?” Yega asked. “Look at yourself; if their commander did all of that to someone like yourself, imagine what they would have done to us. It is very fortunate that you did what you did. We all heard those explosions, you know...”
“You played your f*****g role,” Faima spat. “So you can drop any feelings of inadequacy.”
“Ver Holvate, please forgive Faima’s insolence. She is simply overcome with relief at your relatively safe return,” Tami said, feigning formality. Faima scowled and glanced away but spoke nothing further.
“By the way, who was leading their unit, Losha?” Aslo questioned to her.
“A woman by the name of Suvla Teni Henron. She was also known as the Olta Fox.”
For an instant, Aslo’s brow spiked up. “You mean that officer? One of Henron’s TRIBLADE?”
“I suppose so. Rather, I doubt it could have been anyone else.”
“Sa, sa” Tami said, rubbing his chin. “That makes it two-for-two now. First the Velhast Hound, now the Olta Fox. At this rate, you will have reduced their prized fighters to next to nothing.”
“In that case,” Aslo continued. “I can see why you had such a... ‘vigorous’ battle with her. That also explains quite a lot about why we struggled ourselves.”
“What do you mean?” Losha asked.
“Given the officer commanding Henron troops here, it is no wonder that we encountered so much fog. The apparent delusions we had during the skirmish makes sense now too.”
“Wait, you all had hallucinations as well?” Losha queried.
“Sa,” Yega answered. “It was really bizarre. It were as if we all had double vision. It made shooting or close combat difficult, but we all managed to pull through. They got you, from the sounds of it?”
“Well, my situation was a bit more troublesome, but I was under some rather strange effects as well. Range Lead, what was it you were saying about Suvla?”
“Sa,” Aslo said as he turned to the side and swept his hand over the forest in the background. “We have just experienced a hallmark of her battle techniques. She is known throughout Henron as a very ambitious chemist with a penchant for engineering. We have good reason to believe that her methods were at work today. The fog and the visual anomalies we saw were products of her research, in all likelihood.”
“Hold on,” Yega said. “We have all seen Losha shoot electricity, manipulate light, and make balls of fire and ice, but explain to me how normal people can make heavy fog during the winter.”
“Perhaps I can describe what happened today.”
They all turned around as a Field Lead walked over to them. In his hands, he held a lump of what looked to be black sand. Trails of steam loosely floated from its depths.
“Sa, Valo!” Aslo said. “Good of you to join us. I take it you have finished your investigation?”
“Correct. I am fairly certain I know what was done and how.”
“Excellent. WOLFWIND, this is Valo, one of our more technically inclined members. He actually helped in developing those snow-bridges Boz mentioned. So, what have you to report?”
“This stuff,” Valo said, cupping the dark matter in his hands as he held it closer to them all.
“What is that? Burnt t**d?” Faima asked.
“Not exactly. If I recall correctly, this is what they call ‘satan’s salt’ or ‘devil’s dirt’,” he pronounced in Gandian. “In reality, the name is a misnomer since it is not actually salt or dirt. Instead, it does have a lot of chemical characteristics similar to salt in that it too can lower the melting point of water, but as you can see it also releases heat as a reaction with water. These two properties are very good for making water evaporate, even in this weather.”
“Could it really be responsible for fogging such a large region of the Talimer Forest?” Losha asked.
“Sa! You should see how much the Henron laid everywhere. The ground is packed with this in places. They actually managed to warm up several areas. Anyway, it had the name ‘devil’s dirt’ because of its color and temperature during its reaction. It gives off the impression of something hellish, almost. As the reaction comes to a close, it gets really brown or blackish. The material that gets left behind has a lot of organic compounds after it finishes ‘burning’, so it not only looks like dirt, but is has been observed to act as a compost.”
“So you mean to tell us that Henron went so far as to temporarily change the weather to gain an advantage in battle? That surely sounds like something for the history books...” Aslo remarked. Valo nodded rapidly.
“Of course! No one has ever done anything like that. What we witnessed her is both scientific and military progress.”
Tami shook his head slightly. “You sure are into these kinds of subjects... But, at any rate, how much of this salt stuff would they need to do what they did?”
“Just several tons. A couple of cart loads, but not an unreasonable amount. I suspect we will find out exactly how much if we can get their surviving soldiers to talk. We do hold at least a dozen captive now; I am certain one will be able to tell us.”
“With the right persuasions...” Aslo began. “We will get them to talk. One of them may know who leaked the information on the snow-bridges. We still have a spy in engineering after all, and it is on that account any of this happened today. Valo, what about the impairments we experienced? How did Henron managed to give us that double-vision? More chemicals I presume.”
“Well, look no further than here.” Valo brought the devil’s dirt closer to everyone as the group leaned in. “Go ahead, take a whiff,” he encouraged Yega. Yega huffed the pile, pulled back, and rubbed his nose as he sniffled.
“Agh! I smell nothing, but there must be something in it, right? Se...?” Yega blinked; for a moment, it seemed as if everyone around him suddenly split in two. He rubbed his eyes and took a step back. “Oh no, not again. I knew it, they put something in it!”
“Sa! While I cannot analyze it here on the field, this is most likely a sort of odorless compound capable of inducing hallucinations, perceived visual discrepancies, loss of balance and positional awareness, and a host of other debilitating conditions. From what I can tell so far, it is a non-toxic inhalant that can travel as vapor. The fog acted as the perfect medium of transmission in this case. It really is quite an ingenious combination. The Olta Fox outdid herself this time.”
“Hmm...” Losha said for a moment. “She must have used different mixtures for my encounter with her. I saw more than just double-visions. It were as if she could control my senses entirely, sight and sound.”
“Amazing!” Valo said. “If Sventa could get a hold of the formula... I would love to study it...”
“Speaking of Suvla, Losha, what became of her after your fight? Did she escape? Is she incapacitated?” Aslo asked.
“She is dead,” Losha said, almost flatly. “She... took her own life.”
“Sa... We are fortunate the same may not be said of you or us. I know it has been said before, but it certainly looks like you went through a tough scrap. It is rumored that the Olta Fox also had the uncanny ability to see the future.”
“You mean to tell me,” Yega said. “That we were up against a bomb-making, mad alchemist who could predict our every move?”
“That is a bit imaginative,” Aslo frowned. “Those were unconfirmed reports. I would not put too much stock in them. I gather that since we were all introduced to serialization, it may seem easy to believe the astounding, but here in the army, we only credit what can be verified and validated.”
“It was probably something Henron spread themselves, an image they wanted to establish for her so as to terrify their opponents. You know, propaganda,” Valo added.
Losha remained silent for this part of the discussion. Though the others may have easily dismissed Suvla, she could not do so. Having witnessed the woman in person, she harbored little doubt that her enemy once held an incredible ability for foresight and precognition. The rest probably could be not persuaded unless they were themselves to see what had happened. Nevertheless, Losha did not think Suvla could have faked anything.
“The fog has cleared and the inhalants have worn off. The survivors of the Henron contingent have been rounded up. I would say our work is nearly done,” Aslo said.
“I still have to erect a barrier blocking the Sholat River,” Losha reminded him.
“Do not push yourself. Rest a while first.”
“I have enough seras left to do quite a bit of work, although I have become rather hungry...”
“Valo?” Tami asked. “I still have two questions. Were the inhalants the reason the Henron we fought wore masks?”
“Sa,” Valo replied. He dumped the devil’s dirt to the ground as he wiped his gloves together. “That makes the most sense. There would be little point if they were affected and disabled by their own tactics. Localized weather alteration may be a first, but chemical warfare has been around for a while. It used to be restricted to things like tainting water supplies or food sources. The Gandians have taken it further, from what I understand. Remember that great war they had eight years ago? With seven major countries divided into two alliances? Gas attacks, that sort of thing. Looking back, we were lucky Henron did not utilize any toxic elements.”
“Sa, that would have ruined my day,” Tami said. “Now, about that devil’s dirt, what would stop the Henron from just throwing that all over Losha’s ice after she closes off the Sholat River?”
“Well, logistics for one thing. There are no natural deposits of devil’s dirt in all of the Central Plains. They would have to import it from Gandians up north. It is impressive how they managed to secure as much as they did already, but acquiring devil’s dirt takes time and tends to be prohibitively expensive. I wager if they have not used up their current supply today, then they are running low. I do not think they could get around anything Losha could make. For her, snow and water are liberally available; she can make walls as thick as she wants to, given the necessary amount of seras.”
“It is not likely Henron will try a stunt like that again, however,” Aslo reasoned. “They certainly spared nothing for this battle, technically speaking, and yet they still lost. They will not be expecting better odds a second time. They also know now that the forest is heavily guarded under our presence.”
“Hmm? So you are going to let them get away then?” Tami asked.
“Let who get away?” Losha in turn asked, wondering what context their conversation had just assumed. Aslo nodded briefly before expounding the matter.
“Not every member of the Henron we faced met death or detainment. A number fled as the fighting drew to a close, just a measly handful. I know the Henron army would find out about their failure soon enough, say for example, once all communication with Suvla’s unit ceased. However, if a small amount were left to return, it might illustrate to them how badly they were beaten. As the Gandians sometimes say, ‘you do not kill the messenger’. I think it would be good for Henron if they heard our message.”
“Leaving survivors to flee,” Losha said. “It is similar to what they did to us. Only two of our clan made it back after the initial attack on the forest, though we have no evidence that was intentional.”
“At any rate,” Aslo spoke up. “Henron will mark this debacle for themselves. We have foiled their attempt at seizing our land, and now Sventa stands as strong as ever. They have not been able to best us for the past several encounters. I should say things are going smoothly indeed. Losha, can you detect anymore Henron in the area?”
“No. Nothing save for the Henron who left the battle. I do not think we need to worry about our guard, as long as I myself am vigilant.”
“Then I think it is safe to declare that the battle here is over. WOLFWIND, Losha, I leave the matter of the Sholat River in your hands, but please do not strain yourselves, especially Ver Holvate. We will continue to pick up the waste the fighting produced, though we are nearly done.”
With that, Losha and her group retired for the time being.
Later that night, shortly before the hour of a new day, Losha had gotten up from their makeshift campsite. Rather than go back to the second division, they had decided to stay within the Talimer Forest for the night. Everyone thought it best if Losha got an adequate amount of time to recover herself so she could block off the Sholat River. They also did not want to chance having any more Henron sneak into their territory. She’d agreed to the idea if only to ensure that she didn’t push her luck. She still didn’t exactly know what her limits were, after all. By now she’d become quite accomplished in slipping out unbeknownst. No one seemed to notice, save for Izel who grunted groggily.
“Shh...” she whispered as she walked away into the woods. Soon she reached a spot only sparsely populated with trees. Here in the dark, with little else except the starlight overhead, she decided to try her hand again at the servai. Losha wanted to know if she could perform the series outside of distress and if she could further hone her skills with it. Holding her arm at length, she gathered raw seras from within, and by a blue glow, a rod-like shape materialized before her. It still looked nothing like a sword, but did that even matter? She’d sliced Suvla easily enough. At least the form appeared consistent now. Her servai no longer shuddered around the edges. It were as if she held within her hands a solidified beam of pure light.
Though Losha found the progress inspiring, she did not want to settle for her current level. She wanted to get stronger, more adept. Losha remained uncertain of how exactly she would train herself. She had no master anymore, and this type of serialization was completely new to her. By her reckoning, it seemed that she’d just have to gain knowledge through experience and figure things out on her own. She did grasp that her servai had to be handled in a manner very similar to swordcraft. Though the servai attacked one’s seras, the seras itself was always anchored in the body. If she couldn’t handle her tool or strike the enemy, she’d be at a disadvantage, or worse, on the losing end of another’s blade. She’d trained all of her life to be a student of the art, yet now it really was time for her to become a learner of something more martial. Hers was not the heart of a warrior, but she had to fight all the same.
Holding the servai vertically in front of herself, Losha stared intently into its burning brightness. A great responsibility resided in this series. By its stroke, life and death were granted, and from that power deeds of misfortune or acts of goodness would arise. The balance, an ever precarious one, required a mind’s utmost judgment, and even then things could still go awry. However, doing nothing - forsaking the servai’s potential for peace - brought her closer to nowhere. It was an extremely dangerous series that carried many consequences. But Losha felt confident that she could navigate through all of these issues. At the very least, Nabel’s grand “test” tacitly admitted that she might prove true and wise; why else would he have allowed it in the first place?
In the black midst of the woods, Losha began moving her servai through the air. She wasn’t positive about what she was doing, but the idea was merely to familiarize herself with its might, its force, its every facet. Waving it, sweeping it, practicing motions of all sorts, she began to sharpen herself with this serialized weapon ever so slowly.
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