Serial
75: No man’s throne
March 18th, 33 S.D. 12:12 Capital City, Henron
“All units, advance towards the court!” Liveta ordered, sweeping her arm out at the complex.
“Saaaa!” the soldiers cried in unison, pumping their weapons into the air. Swiftly, they wrapped around various buildings, emerging from hiding and filling the streets. Soon, droves of men and women stormed up to the fallen gate. They spread out among the garden, securing areas before racing up to the building itself. Their boots splashed through pools of water the closer they came into the court. The first loyalists they encountered were in no shape to offer any resistance. Having been hurled out of the court and practically drowned, the enemy was too weak to fight. Most had lost their weapons in the raging floods. These followers of Heigon surrendered without incident.
Liveta’s soldiers surrounded the perimeter as separate teams infiltrated from the front, the sides, and the back. Their foes inside sustained less damage, however, and had recovered themselves rather quickly. Though the loyalists launched a defense of the court, Losha skillfully cut scores of them down. By the time the rebels moved onto the first floor, the ground was marked with so many unconscious bodies. Here and there, various ranks laid themselves out, each exhibiting a strange, sparkling light that darted over their limbs.
“Someone, tie these fellows up!” a Range Lead bellowed at the front. “They are out of it for now. Let us make sure they do not cause us any trouble when they come to. Where is the Wolf?”
Before anyone could answer the officer, they heard cries and gunshots coming from further inside.
“You four, take point with me. You lot, cover us,” said a Field Lead as they hurried down a wide hallway towards the source of this disturbance. Rounding a corner, they found a large, open room that often served as a lounge for Heigon’s ministers. Several more shots rang out by the time the Field Lead reached the place. At the far end, by the wall, at least a dozen loyalists fired upon Losha from behind a toppled bookcase. Though no more than seven of these were direct hits, the bullets harmlessly bounced off to the side. Thanks to a strong force-field serialized around her, she had become impervious to such attacks. Still, there was a limit; every blow drained a bit of her seras. She’d already used quite a bit throwing water about the court, so she had to mind how many projectiles actually struck her.
“D****t! Th-that barely even fazed her!” said a trembling soldier as he lowered the sights of his rifle.
“Stand down,” Losha said. “Things will only get worse for you the longer you oppose.”
“Shut the hell up!” growled one of the loyalists, aiming a freshly loaded pistol.
“Wolf!” Liveta’s soldiers called out. “Let us give you a hand here.”
“Stay back!” she commanded. “This shall not take long... Once more, will you quit or not?”
“Damn you to hell!” the loyalist yelled, letting off a round. The shot missed its target, however, for Losha moved as soon as the soldier even reached for the trigger. In a single speed-step, she traveled across the room. She cut through a mass of standing water, throwing waves to either side of her as she blitzed towards the enemy. Equally as fast, she came to a complete halt in front of them. In a long, broad swipe, she sliced half of their number with her servai. Their seras, highlighted in numerous brilliant colors, sprayed upwards as the soldier themselves collapsed. The rest could but sit there, frozen with panic and hesitation. Losha, however, wasted no time in dealing with them. She turned, whirling her servai high overhead. Dashing at them, she swung her blade up and down, As she ran past them, she carved through them all until they were at last subdued.
“Wolf!” Liveta’s soldiers again said, coming close with ready weapons.
“This place is clear,” she said, talking to the Field Lead. “Make no mistake, they yet live, but deprived of seras, they are weak and incapable of moving on their own.”
“Good show,” the officer nodded.
“I leave them in your custody,” Losha said, walking past the rebels.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
“The bulk of their forces have yet to be dealt with. I am going to meet them.” She ran out of the lounge, tracking down larger sources of seras frequencies. It seemed most of the loyalists had fled upstairs. While she could tell that much, she still have to navigate the maze of corridors and passages that made up the court. Winding her way through countless sections, passing doorway after doorway, she finally came to the grand stairway that lead to the next floor. To her left, she could see the staggered pathway. A group of Liveta’s soldiers were already at the base, crouching on both sides of the railing. Two of them carried Agnan Walls, guarding against gunfire and crossbow bolts from above.
“Shrieks!” one of the hollered. “We are pinned down. Where is that backup?! If only we had more of these shields...”
“Is there a problem?” Losha asked, nonchalantly walking towards them.
“There she is! Hey, keep your head down!”
Losha ignored the warning and stood directly at the bottom of the stairs. Looking up, she observed that the loyalists had fenced off the top with crates and whatever furniture they’d been able to assemble. From different openings, they took shots down the steps.
“Hey, Wolf! You will get nailed if you just stand there!”
At that instant, three bolts barreled straight at Losha. These clashed against her force-field, however; they snapped and bounced onto the floor without ever having touched her.
“No way...” one of Heigon’s men said. “It is just like they say.. the Wolf, you cannot beat her...”
“Stow that sort of talk, soldier!” barked a female Field Lead. “Defend this position at all costs!”
Losha took one heavy step forward, narrowing her eyes as she gazed upward. “They certainly moved to block off this location again. However...” With a burst of blue light, Losha sailed halfway up the stairs. The Field Lead pointed her sword ahead of her unit as she cried out loud.
“Fire!”
Bullets and bolts charged at the serialist, but by the time the enemy had even reacted to their commander, Losha had jumped high above them, flying at them in a steep arc. In her free-hand, she serialized a powerful kinetic series. She pulled her arm back as she speedily descended right upon the barricade. Her fingers flexed wildly, like the strike of an impending claw. Diving into these foes, Losha released the series all at once. A great concussive blast rocked the ground as a ravaging wind tore across the landing. Heigon’s troops were blown away by a sudden, surging storm. Their bodies were pushed far away, skidding along the soaked carpet. The pieces of their makeshift barrier were cast against the walls, broken apart on impact.
Losha stood up and looked around her, grabbing the scruff of one soldier who’d managed to avoid the worst of her attack. As things settled, she threw the knocked-out loyalist to the side. Though she’d gotten rid of a handful of soldiers, she’d yet to tackle the heart of their forces. The second floor held the remainder of their kind, some 400 odd fighters. She could sense them by their seras frequencies, however, merely looking about gave her a clear idea of just how surrounded she truly was. Glancing slowly back and forth, Losha put on a slight frown as everyone within eyesight seemed to stop. The loyalists appeared too stunned by her explosive entrance to attack outright at first.
“I am going to provide you all one last chance to end this peacefully now,” she said, tightening her grip around her servai. She held up her other hand as if offering something to them. “Surrender at once. This has gone on long enough. There is no use in struggling any further.” As she finished her plea, a single bolt soared in front of her face, passing from the side. It whisked by scant centimeters just outside her force-field. She sighed to herself as she shook her head.
“So be it. Then come, all those who would battle with my soul. The rest of you may stand aside.” Having spent much of their ammunition already and having lost sizable quantities of it in all the water, the soldiers resorted to melee combat. With fierce shouts, they rose up in unison, pouring out of rooms, hallways, and corners. They ran to challenge Losha at the spacious threshold, brandishing their metal tools in hand. Even so, as a veritable horde zeroed in on her, Losha calmly held her ground, waiting for the proper moment.
At least ten of Heigon’s soldiers came at her before anyone else; all of them carried swords of their own. Simultaneously, they raised their blades to hit her, however, they found their limbs spontaneously frozen. Their uniforms became frigid in an instant, woven with threads of underlying ice. Since the whole court had been exposed to high levels of water, it was a trivial matter for Losha to chill anything or anyone. Brought to a complete stand-still, her aggressors were vulnerable to her servai. Sweeping her sword-like series in a large, crescent stroke, she pierced every one of them in a single move. Their seras escaped from their wounds, gushing out like liquid life-force. Just as she’d bound them with ice, she used another subtle kinetic series to immediately melt it. In short order, the lot fainted at her feet, never having come near her at all.
Nevertheless, as soon as she hopped over them, she faced yet more enemies. Soldiers from every angle went towards her; perhaps each hoped to overwhelm her by sheer volume. As threatening as their crowd was, the soldiers proved to be little concern for Losha and her art. While a great group of loyalists attacked from the left, she raised her hand, thrusting them away with a kinetic series. As if pushed back by a mighty gust, these ones toppled over, restrained if only for the moment. She turned to her right and began slashing at anyone within range. Foe-by-foe, the fine end of her servai curved and ripped through warriors. Every maneuver, every motion of hers released the seras of a soldier. Every time they tried to seize her with a mob, she cast a series to dispel them, throwing them away while she dealt with smaller handfuls. She continued in a flurry, never once ceasing as she fought any who would approach. Eventually, the amount of able loyalists dwindled. The remaining officers saw the situation through grim eyes.
“Shrieks! Ignore her! She is too strong. Retreat to the third floor!” one Field Lead shouted as he beckoned people to follow him. A loud pop rang out just then as the officer’s leg exploded in red. “Gyaaah!” he cried, dropping down to one knee, holding his limb as a crimson stain bloomed beneath his uniform. More gunfire erupted as Liveta’s soldiers finally came onto the second floor.
“You are not going anywhere! Apprehend them all!” said a Range Lead. Dozens of rebels quickly outnumbered what was left of the loyalists. They specifically aimed at lower extremities in an effort to prevent the enemy from escaping. With a few more cuts, Losha disposed of the last soldiers in her area. The others were soon handled by her arriving allies, either falling to a crippling bullet or giving themselves up.
She stood there for a bit, looking down at all of those who had been stung by her servai. Non-serialists such as them didn’t have much seras; it had taken but the merest touch of her weapon to deplete them. As a lightning-like effect danced over their limp bodies, they’d all passed out. She did not enjoy having to go to such lengths simply to suppress them, but their discomfort would be temporary at worse, far better than death. As she paused, the tension evaporated from the atmosphere. Liveta’s soldiers, with haste and efficiency, began rounding up loyalists.
“Hey!” someone said behind her. “I told you to leave some for us.” Alant came running up the stairs, panting as he pushed his way past comrades, stepping over the wounded.
“I did leave some,” Losha said.
“I should say not,” Alant muttered. “The court is filled with your handiwork."
“Sa, well... What else was I to do? I could not very well just sit there.”
“Sa, do not sound so serious. It was only a joke.”
“This is no time for laughing, Alant,” said a voice coming up the stairs. Liveta appeared, followed by several high officers of hers. “I see this is what you intended when you said you would flush them out. Splendid work, Losha, although this concluded far sooner than I anticipated. Your powers truly are a wonder.”
Beside her, Tibil walked up. He held a rapier himself, but from its otherwise pristine condition, it looked to have gone unused. “Pay no mind to Ver Alant,” he said, smiling gently. “He was simply hoping for something a bit more dramatic. After all, he has invested as much in this upheaval as any of us.”
“I shall not deny I was expecting a bit more conflict...” Alant said, scratching the side of his face. “Some more heroics would not have hurt...”
“Because it has ended so soon, however,” Tibil said, “we had minimal casualties on both sides, as desired. We have you to thank personally Losha. Henron owes you a great debt.”
“No one owes me anything,” Losha shook her head. “I simply wanted to see things put to rest.”
“I hate to trample on our recent achievements, everyone,” Liveta began. “But we are a long ways from being finished. This is but a small victory. We... still have to deal with Govan. More towards the present, we need to deal with Heigon.”
“Sa... Father,” Tibil said.
“Has anyone seen Heigon?” Liveta called out loud. “Where is he? Where has he gone?”
A rebel came to Liveta, briefly saluting before giving a report. “Ver Liveta, we have just started clearing this floor. We have found no signs of him yet. Those who still adhere to his rule have refused to slip word of his location.”
“It is of no consequence now. We will find him in due time. Make sure no one leaves the court. Losha, could you keep track of any seras frequencies attempting to exit the area?”
“You think he has fled?” Losha asked the Core Lead.
“It is a possibility he might try. Can you also find any unaccounted for frequencies? That will help us find him.”
“Sa.”
“Has anyone checked the Grand Chamber?” Tibil questioned.
“No,” said the nearby soldier.
“Core Lead, while you see to things among your subordinates, allow me to pursue father, if in fact he may be found.”
“I do not object,” said the officer.
“Losha, if you will?” Tibil said. The two of them went deeper into Capital Court, moving down a central sort of passage. At the east side sat a large pair of doors, closed for the time being.
“What exactly is this Grand Chamber?” Losha asked.
“It is where father... where Heigon held his court, where he made decisions for the clan as a whole. He used it as an audience hall for his ministers as well as for appearances with important members of Henron’s social hierarchy.”
“Do you have reason to believe Hiegon is there?”
“Father is not the type of person to relinquish his authority so easily. Perhaps we will see him sitting there...”
“Tibil... No one is there...” Losha said, looked down at the wet floor. “I can tell. It is just us.”
“I suppose so...” Tibil answered as they came up to the entrance. He opened the Grand Chamber anyway and stepped inside. Here, an expansive circular room materialized before them. Along the front half, against the wall, rows of seats spread out. These faced a single, imposing chair placed on the opposite side. Their steps echoed across the emptiness as they walked into the very center of the chamber.
“The ministers would line up over there, all according to their status. Father would obviously seat himself here.”
“It stands abandoned now,” Losha whispered, gazing up at the impressive chandelier over their heads. It titled to the side with some of its arms twisted at different angles. A steady stream of droplets yet fell from its damaged lamps, like a tipped bowl.
“Ah, it looks like you broke that too,” Tibil mentioned, pointing to the large window poised directly behind Heigon’s throne.
“Was there something special about that window?”
“Sa, it used to be stained glass. It was a mosaic, a depiction of father. It was of him holding a sword and sheath, separately. The sword represents the law, a tool to dispense justice. The scabbard represents order to quell violence, you know, as if violence were something that could be tucked away.”
“It sounds... needlessly narcissistic.”
Tibil laughed loudly. “Sa, indeed it was. The morning light always hit it in such a way, it looked illuminated. You can see how this would appear when sitting right there. It is not anything particular to father, though. Every one of our leaders, since the inception of the court, has had their visage imprinted in glass like that. However, it is rather fitting to see it destroyed like so. They were only ever taken down once a ruler’s time had passed.” The two of them looked outside through the shattered opening for a while.
“No one is here,” Losha said again.
“I know...” Tibil said with a sigh. “I think I just wanted to come here, is all. It is the end of an era, the last of Henron’s autocracy. From here on out, we have a new future awaiting our clan. Let us go and see Heigon’s personal quarters.”
Losha and Tibil left the Grand Chamber, backtracking towards Liveta. By the time they returned, her forces were removing the loyalists into the courtyard. Most were carried out on long stretchers thanks to Losha’s efforts. The search of the second floor turned up no signs of Heigon. Liveta had directed the others to scour the floor below and the basement as well.
“Has anyone checked the third floor?” Tibil asked, to which the Core Lead but shook her head.
“No, not yet. I am more concerned with his escape. There have always been rumors of underground tunnels connecting to the court’s basement. If he is on the third floor, he has nowhere to go, so I have only just now gathered up a search party.”
“Tibil,” Losha said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No one is up there.”
He turned around and frowned. “A-are you certain?”
“Positive. I am not detecting any seras frequencies from above.”
The corner of his mouth dropped as his gaze fell to the floor. “Then, perhaps he is not still... Shrieks.” Tibil took off, marching hurriedly towards the next staircase.
“Tibil?” Liveta asked, to no response.
“I will accompany him,” Losha said, tailing after him. Quickly, they climbed the stairs and found themselves among a series of branching hallways.
“These are the lodgings typically used for a select few of father’s most favored ministers. Further on, near the eastern side, sit his room. My former apartment is along the way too.” They turned down several corners, all seemingly at random as Tibil guided their course. “Those seras frequencies you speak of, Losha, you get them from people, correct?”
“Sa. Any being with a soul ‘leaks’ tiny amounts of seras at a set rate; that is the seras frequency.” Ahead, a trail of red carpet escorted them up to a pair of doors. The threads beneath their feet oozed water with every squishing step they took. Tibil marveled for a moment just how thoroughly Losha had executed everything. He was certain she’d left no place untouched by the torrents she’d conjured.
“Is there any way you might not be able to detect someone’s seras frequency?” he asked as they approached the hallway’s end.
“Some can mask their frequencies, but most ordinary people cannot. Naturally, if amount of one’s available seras reaches too low a level, their frequencies become fainter, thus harder to pinpoint.”
Tibil grasped each handle before halting a bit. “Is that so?” he mused. “Then what about the dead?” He pried open both portals with a tug of his arms. Equally as fast, a noxious mass of odor attacked them, rushing out as if trapped. In the same instant that Tibil opened his father’s room, he and Losha coughed and gagged. They turned their faces away, but still the outrageous smell flowed around them. Imbued in these fumes, the distinct hint of decaying flesh rose most prominently.
“Oh! Shrieks! What is this?!” Tibil demanded, hacking badly.
“Something in there,” Losha pointed behind them. Slowly, shielding their noses and mouths as closely as possible, they entered Heigon’s room. It was completely black, save for what scarce light came from the doorway. Quietly, Losha serialized an orb to shine for them as they tepidly investigated. The sudden brightness caused their eyes to wince, and the insufferable stench made their vision watery. Stumbling blindly for a brief period, the two could little recognize what lied with them in these chambers. When they could at last properly see, it was something neither of them could take casually.
In the center of the bed, a corpse idly rested. Its very form had been eaten away by time, its body reduced to puss and grime. The sheets darkened in patches as these remains seeped across the fabric. Here the figure sank into the mattress, as if this place would serve as its coffin. So ingrained was this man that not even Losha’s water had disturbed him. One boney arm placed its hand on its decomposing chest as its head looked at the ceiling fixedly in silence. Tibil’s eyes widened, instantly recognizing who this was, despite their current condition.
“What the...” Tibil breathed. “What the hell is this?”
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