Serial
74: Deluges of grandeur
March 18th, 33 S.D. 11:51 Capital City, Henron
Inside Capital Court, Henron soldiers scurried back and forth past one another. They had spent the previous few hours reinforcing the building with whatever they could find. Though many of the items around them were both extravagant and expensive, the loyalists gave little thought to that as they repurposed everything. Long, elegant tables were broken into bits of wood to board up windows. Drapery of all color were torn down, cut up, and twisted into rope. All of the fine, jeweled weaponry, mounted for display, found themselves at arms. Beds suddenly became barricades once overturned, and furniture became forts once rearranged. It was an outright desecration of opulence, yet the situation demanded these measures.
“Hey, get those chairs against those doors!” A Field Lead bellowed. “Block that entry way!”
“Hey,” said a grunt. “Field Lead, what about this stuff?”
“What is that crap?” the Field Lead asked, narrowing his eyes at a pile of things that had accumulated on the floor.
“Looks like paintings and mirrors.”
“Ksh. Use them to block off the windows. They seem pretty flimsy, but they should at least stop the enemy from seeing inside.”
“Understood.”
Though there were only a limited number of Heigon’s supporters, the court bustled with activity. They constantly moved, jumping from task to task. In all the commotion, the Field Lead backed up, accidentally bumping into someone.
“Oh,” he said, turning around. “S-sa! My apologies, Ver Heigon! It appears I was careless!” The Field Lead snapped rigidly into a salute; his face turned into an expression of intensity. Before the officer stood Heigon Henron, the leader of the Henron clan. He had a thick mustache that curved upwards, tracing the sharp angles of his cheeks. His hair, long and gray, fell behind him, though his forehead was a bit bald. Despite his age, he remained a large man, equal in size to Govan himself.
“What is the status over here?” Heigon asked as his eyes ran about the room.
“We are nearly finished taking care of things on this floor.”
Heigon nodded, glancing over everything once more. “Hmmph. We will see if those traitorous b******s have the gall to come at our throats. Keep yourselves vigilant. Expect them to come knocking at any time.” Heigon raised a fist, clenching his fingers tightly within themselves. “We shall not let Henron, our Henron, fall prey to ignorant ideals like the kind pushing this ‘insurrection.’ Only the fierce ways of our clan can safeguard our people. Only tradition tried and true can lead us forward. I want you all manning posts soon. Hurry up with whatever preparations you need.”
“Sa!”
“Sa! Ver Heigon!”
“Understood!”
The men nearby chorused these responses as they halted work to salute him.
“I will be in my chambers, Field Lead. I have things I must tend to as well.” Heigon turned and stepped up a wide set of stairs. His personal apartments stood on the top floor. After passing through a maze of scattered hallways, Heigon reached a long passage. Here a velvet rug spread all the way up to a set of doors. Heigon went towards them, entering quickly, then rapidly closing himself off. In the midst of utter darkness, Heigon froze as soon as he arrived. Unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing, it were as if he’d been stopped in time. Hanging in the air, dampness and mustiness proved abundant. Above all, however, a revolting, fetid smell permeated the place, so overwhelming and offensive it could keel a person over in an instant.
“Welcome back, Heigon Henron,” said a voice from the blackness. Heigon did not react, however. In the corner, Duke sat in a chair; one of his heels rested leisurely atop the other leg as he propped his elbow and chin up. “It seems the moment has finally come. This is the end of your reign. The Wolf is coming. Can you sense her? Can you sense the approach of her fangs? Well... this day was bound to be eventually. If not by my designs, then by your arrogant ways. Do not feel pain. Do not feel regret. Feel absolutely nothing, for all that you could have done is past. Now we have a better future awaiting us all, thanks to your small role. We shall rejoice, for harmony is at last on its way.”
Duke stood up slowly, walking towards Heigon. When the two were but meters away from each other, Duke stopped and looked at the Henron.
“But, I suppose you cannot hear me, can you? After all,” he smiled, “you are merely a puppet.” Duke swung his arm out horizontally, as if wiping aside a great veil. In that single motion, Heigon’s body evaporated into a fine, sable mist. Eventually even this disappeared as its smokey trails grew transparent.
“What a pain to have to serialize this illusion for so long. However, I guess it could not be helped...” Duke tossed a glance over at Heigon’s bed. “Some things simply take time, hmm?”
Thus far, as the afternoon began, Heigon’s loyalists found Capital Court eerily tranquil. Their foes had not made a single move yet, as if they hadn’t even thought about fighting. In fact, it seemed as if they loyalists were being ignored. They weren’t exactly in a position to move aggressively, and even if they managed that kind of power, the rebels were the stronger force at the moment. All they could do was wait for events to unfold. They didn’t have to sit around long, however.
“Field Lead, I got movement, spying something at West 14th Street,” said a soldier, peering out from the second floor with a telescope in hand.
“You sure it is not civilians?” the officer asked as he turned to the side. “You saw how they were milling about earlier. I doubt the residents even know what is happening now.”
“Negative, Field Lead. The civilians are gone...”
“What?!” the Field Lead exclaimed, coming closer to the window. “Shrieks, they must have cordoned off the area. That means they want to try something, and soon.” Both of them looked over Capital City for a while, though the Field Lead squinted through unaided eyes.
“There!” the scout called. “By the bakery, you see that, Field Lead?”
“Sa.” Down below, two people dashed out of an alley, running behind the bakery and out of sight.
“Definitely military, hard to miss these uniforms of ours.”
“Indeed,” the Field Lead mumbled. Suddenly, something caught his attention, something much nearer. “Hey, what happened to the fountain?” the officer asked pointing to the center of the court’s walled garden.
“The fountain? I do not know anything about that. Looks like it just stopped.”
“Strange. It should not do that.”
His words were perfectly accurate, unfortunately. Beneath them, lowly at first, a dull rumbling could be felt. It started as nothing more than a smooth vibration, easily disregarded by the edgy soldiers. However, the trembling proceeded gradually, gaining vigor with each passing second. The ground shook steadfastly with such strength that none could fail to notice it.
“W-what is that?!”
“An enemy attack? Are they attacking us?”
“No, this is an earthquake!”
“It just keeps going!”
The Field Lead looked behind him as things shook violently about. “Shrieks!” he cursed as he turned back to the window. “Damn! This is probably some rebel trick! Wait... what is happening over there?” All at once, the fountain erupted like a geyser, throwing water high into the air. He could but marvel at the oddity, rooted and dumbfounded. Until a thunderous boom rang out from the lower floor, the Field Lead simply stood there.
“What the-” He saw the answer right before him, however. On the lower level, a window blew outward in a flurry of glass, wood, and water. A massive torrent ejected, as if someone had activated a large pump from within the building. Even with one window shattered, the pressure continued to increase. Additional openings exploded in the same fashion. To the Field Lead’s horror, he saw several fellow soldiers carried off by the furious streams. As if caught by a wild river, they were helplessly swept outside, riding along liquid jets. Cries of chaos echoed from the first floor above the din of the flood. Three more distinct booms reverberated within the court. In panic and disarray, two soaked squadrons scrambled up the staircase onto the second floor. The Field Lead grabbed one of them as they dispersed without aim.
“Hey, you! What on the blessed face of the Continent just happened?!” he yelled, trying to project his voice over the shouts of comrades and the waters below them. “Speak up, soldier! Now!”
“I-I-It was e-everywhere! Out of n-n-nowhere! Like it was ripping right out of the ground!”
“The water? But how? This is not possible!”
“It is like an ocean i-is against us. The e-e-ntire first floor is sopping wet! At this rate, we might-”
Cutting into the soldier’s sentence, a mighty well of water coursed straight up underneath them. It pierced the floor where they stood, punching through the construction with savage ease. The blast knocked the Field Lead to his feet, tossing him backwards and spinning him around. The howls of his soldiers filled his dazed ears as he groped for his hat. Clutching it after some search, the officer rolled on his back, taking a good look at the column of water that had attacked him.
“Shrieking hell!” he said, sucking in air past his gritted teeth. “Wha- What the hell is going on?!”
A blue light flowed within the water. The mass began to move, as if it were an amorphous entity of some sort. It created tendrils that swirled and looped before lashing out at various spots, spraying the room vigorously. All the while, an enormous base formed, like a bubble that wouldn’t burst. Soldiers ran away, and those caught in this expanding sphere were immediately thrown out of the area with a quick whip. As the blob encroached closer and closer, the Field Lead instinctively drew out his revolver. However it was too late.
On the streets of Capital City, rebel soldiers had evacuated all residents within a 100 meter radius of the court. The civilians had little clue about what events had transpired that morning. Groups of people nervously huddled along the perimeter, eager yet wary to return. Guards on horseback blocked them, however, they could still see clearly down the roads.
“What is all of this?” grumbled a middle-aged man. “I have work to do. My storehouse does not run by itself. Come on.”
“Nobody is saying anything,” said a young girl sitting on the side of the street with a large book opened on her knees. “Brother thinks it has something to do with Capital Court.”
“I saw it. Every road to it is closed,” chimed in another man. “Maybe something hazardous got loose. Hope it does not spread to the rest of the city.”
“Well,” began a mother, holding her infant in her arms. “I heard this from my friend; she works in the court as a maid. Soldiers chased her out. All the staff was told to flee unless they wanted to fight. Now, whatever could that mean?”
“Hey... Look at that!”
The crowds all at once turned into a sea of whispers as they saw water springing from the fountain, then pouring out of the court’s first-floor windows. As they spoke in concern, buzzing with the multitude of their own voices, the people grew lively and restless, squeezing one another to get a better view.
Nearer to Capital Court, dozens of rebel strike squadrons had positioned themselves in preparation to storm the building. Curiously peeking from their cover, they looked on as the water rampaged the court. Without warning, one final explosion occurred. Simultaneously, every remaining window smashed outwards as water raced forth. It were as if the entire court were sitting on a hose. Cascading down the walls like waterfalls, a grand deluge exited the court. A few moments later, the ferocity died off, calming itself by degrees. The fountain’s tall tower of water, however, went even higher than before.
Embedded with her troops, Core Lead Liveta gazed up at the feat. As she turned her head to the sky, something cold and wet fell across her cheek. Soon a fine drizzle pelted her.
“Hmm...” she hummed with a smile. “And so it rains.”
On the southeastern side of Capital City, below the streets, the depths were not unlike a cavern. A narrow pathway hugged the stone walls, across from which sat a large body of flowing water. In the distance of this tunnel, a faint point of light marked the entrance where the river ran off. Aside from that dim little dot, the main water gate was a very darkened place. Normally, workers brought torches to guide them, however, on this occasion there was no need.
Surrounded by an azure aura, Losha moved her arms emphatically about. In great, broad motions she swayed, conducting, willing, and possessing the water itself. Here she orchestrated an incredible kinetic series, grabbing vast amounts of the river and funneling them into the gate. She rerouted the city’s entire water supply to head towards Capital Court. Creating a mental image of the diagram she’d previously seen, Losha guided her weapon through various underground passages. Although she controlled it remotely, projecting her seras from afar, it were as if she knew precisely what it was doing at any given moment. For further assistance, she homed in on several seras frequencies she’d detected within the court. She could not see the damage she did, but she remained quite aware of it nonetheless.
As her body seemingly danced, forcing the waters to surge through the gate, Losha continued serializing as if she were transfixed. Her focus fell solely upon the task at hand, absorbing all of the attentions of her soul. Despite the sheer complexity of the series, she performed like it were a natural extension of herself. Where the river coursed, so too did her very essence. How she had grown as a serialist in only so many months. Truly, in that moment, she was indeed Master Eltin’s top student, worthy of his same title.
All the while, Alant stood behind her. He dared not approach too close for fear of disturbing her as well as somehow getting dragged into the brewing tempest. He held his pistol in both hands; it was his job to cover Losha while she serialized, in case any loyalists soldiers still roamed parts of the city. Most of the time, however, he merely looked up in wonder at the pulsing water. He’d seen what serialization could do back in Navaran, but he never imagined it could be anything like the display before him.
“Shrieks,” he breathed. “So this is why Henron was losing the war.”
All of a sudden, Losha pushed both palms out as if she were moving something large. At her command, the waters swelled rapidly, charging into the gate with extreme speed. Deafening turbulence filled the air as vast quantities slipped through the portal faster than any eye could track. She stayed like so for a while before gently quitting. Losha lowered her arms to her sides. The river downstream had been reduced to a trickle. Now, as her series ended, it slowly filled up again. Blue light yet enclosed her as she turned around.
“There,” she said with a hand on her hip. “That should do it.”
“So, you basically dowsed Capital Court?”
“Inside and out,” she nodded. “Not a single room should be left dry. Wherever they loaded the dynamite, it will be useless now. We have the added bonus of causing confusion among their ranks, and I believe their fortifications have been weakened extensively. On another note, however, I probably did irreparable harm to the building itself. I apologize if I have destroyed something with any historical significance to your people.”
“Destroying Capital Court would be doing us a favor. It represents so much of what was wrong with our clan. We will move on to something better. Besides, a war has no need for such concerns.”
“I suppose you are right,” Losha said. “Liveta and the others should have seen the signal. We should go now as well.”
They moved down a dozen or so meters until reaching a rather short ladder. Above that, the exit was blocked with a heavy metal lid. Access was ordinarily only granted for maintenance, but today they’d already taken it upon themselves to bypass the locks. Losha climbed up first, pushing the dome aside. Alant followed close behind. The shaft lead them to the streets of Capital City, bringing them to an area that largely stood abandoned. In the distance, however, they could see throngs of people gathering together, pointing, crying, and exclaiming with all sorts of animation.
“Alant?” Losha asked as the two of them started running.
“Sa?”
“Would you mind if I went on ahead?”
Alant looked at her for a moment. “Just leave some for the rest of us this time.”
“I will try.”
Using a speed-step, Losha flew forward, covering the span of one street in a single bound. Thrusting along with each footstep, she came near the crowds in a matter of seconds. Rather than join the Core Lead and the other units, Losha decided to go in first, turning right to the east. Leaping high with another speed-step, she jumped on top of a roof. Hopping from one to another, Losha soon made her way to the court. At last, when the barred iron gates came into view, Losha propelled herself with one, final speed-step.
She planted both feet firmly against the rooftop as a brilliant flash ignited beneath her. Kinetic energy pushed at her being, launching her over the land like a human missile. She’d been at the very same boundary where Liveta’s soldiers sequestered the inner city, but she crossed that length under 5 seconds. The path of Losha’s descent, as she’d cunningly calculated, was to be the very tip of the court’s gate. Quickly, she wrapped a force-field around herself to protect against the impact. In a fraction of an instant, she collided with the tall iron poles, however, thanks to her serialized shield, the metal gave way as if it were paper against her weight.
Ripping through the barrier, she landed shoulder-first into the pavement. She left a small crater as she picked herself up. Losha had not sustained any injuries in the crash; the whole experience was no more dangerous to her than slipping off a couch. Still, she remained a bit disorientated initially as she regained her shaken senses. Behind her, the gate shuddered and creaked as it teetered. Unable to continue, it collapsed inward with one last, long groan.
Losha stood up straight while the thing clattered noisily to the ground. She held out her hand, summoning her servai. In front of her, handfuls of soldiers had been washed out of the court. Coughing, they stumbled to recover themselves. Beyond them, the doors of the front entrance had been torn from their hinges as water yet gushed down the steps. Debris from the tumultuous event littered the once pristine landscaping while the building itself bled in constant droplets.
“Steel yourselves, Henron who would serve the despot Heigon,” she said aloud, pointing her blade straight at the court. “The time has come for change.” With a single speed-step, the Wolf bolted off.
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