Serial
82: Back to business
March 20th, 33 S.D. 10:45 Sevia, Sventa
Standing over my father, I realized what a frail man he had become. His eyes bore many lines of age and illness. What once were full and lively cheeks now sunk inwards. Gaunt and grave, his body trembled every other moment. Out of pain, fear, or weakness? I could little tell. It had scarcely been 3 months since I had last seen him, yet what I saw before me then was like a person devastated by years of sickness. Had not father been walking about when I left? And here he lied bed-ridden. Where was the strong and vivacious soul I had known as a young girl? I remember him being able to ride along on his horse and scoop me up with one arm, one hand. Looking at him at that time, however, I could hardly imagine he was fit to raise himself.
I knew it was a chronic disease, something that ate away at him progressively. I also knew it was his heart and what I had done to it. No one ever taught me that I should not run away from my responsibilities. No one ever showed me how to face the consequences of my actions. Everything I did simply had an effect, a reaction that was unavoidable. I never tried to dodge these things because I always felt them to be inescapable. But now I had just done just that.
I deceived through lies and artifice to do what I wanted. Though I believed I would bring an end to the war, I brought harm to the ones I loved. And then I fled, disappearing into the field of battle, ignoring what I had brought upon my family. The stress, the apprehension, and all the longing and emptiness my absence had caused: I set them aside in order to fulfill my goals. But I was not a woman who would deny her crimes. I came back to my brother, my mother, and now my father.
He smiled gently upon seeing me; that was the most he could manage. We talked through whispers, slowly catching up on everything that had happened between us. A few times he tried to laugh, but he ended up rattling and coughing. His eyes looked watery all the while; I could not tell if he were simply affected by the disease or if he were on the verge of tears. My insight thought it was both, somehow. His words grew fainter; the conversation came to a lull. All I could do was apologize to him. Despite the anguish I had given him, my father did not blame me. Even then his words were free of anger. He was simply happy to see his child safe at home.
I could only wonder what it must have felt like, to send your daughter halfway across the Continent for most of her life only to see her briefly before she is gone once more, perhaps forever. How would I have responded if our roles were switched? If I were the parent, could I see the convictions my son or daughter held? Would their rationale for fighting trump my emotions? To me, my path had been clear; I had only done what was necessary. But maybe I would not have believed so under different circumstances...
No matter how many times I said it to him, however, father rejected my offerings of remorse. Though I had wronged and wounded my family, he waved the matter away. His speech was very quiet by then, but I remember him saying something to the effect that he only wanted me to be with him in that moment. Such was my father’s love and his forgiveness. I held his hand between mine as I watched him slip into sleep. I gazed at him for a while before I put my own palm in front of me. With my fingers spread, I stared into myself.
Serialization and all its potential had been entrusted to me. Its great powers were at my very command. I had deemed myself a master of the art, but at times like that, I could not help but feel naive. Though my decisions implied a certain sense of confidence within, I knew I had yet to learn so many of life’s lessons. Was I really doing things right? Master Eltin, my father, no one could really tell me. I clenched my fist for a moment, then opened it slowly, turning it over to face my father. Blue light surrounded it as I began pumping seras into him. The method had saved at least one life already; it had to help him, somehow. I knew neither the cause nor the cure for whatever ailed him so, but I would not let him suffer, not with the abilities I had gained.
I would give him as much seras as he needed, or all I could give, whichever happened first. I had failed to accept my responsibilities once already, but from that moment, I swore that no matter what, I would stand before them. I had abandoned the House of Holvate, but I would reconcile with everyone, in time of course. I would accept what I had done to them, to my father. But there was another responsibility on my shoulders: the war. I had promised to end it. Integrity demanded I continue fighting, to see everything through. Peace was not going to arrive as long as things remained the same.
For that morning in my father’s room, however, combat could wait. I continued pushing seras into him, hoping it might help him recover in some way. For the man who raised me, loved me, took joy in my company, and felt pride in everything I did, it was the least of all things he deserved.
Losha stepped out into the hallway, softly closing the door behind her. With the sleeve of her shirt, she wiped her brow as she blew air out of her mouth. Sweat ran down the sides of her face. Serializing for long periods of time and depleting significant reserves of seras had physical repercussions. It felt as if she’d been exercising for the past hour. She turned around and went down the hall. Soon, she found herself meeting up with Denze.
“There she is,” Denze smiled.
“Sa...” Losha said, trying to breathe regularly.
“You alright?” he asked. “You look exhausted.”
“I am fine, thank you, Denze. Just a bit hungry, actually.”
Denze cast his right eye over her shoulder, looking down the path. “So... you saw him, sa? How did it go?”
“I am certain you know how his health has been. We talked for a while. He did not even think to speak harshly about my behavior. He tires easily, I see. I know it is his disease that does this, but the choices I have made have little helped.”
“Hey, hey...” Denze said, folding his arms. “You did what you believed was required at the time.”
“But I did not go about it in the best manner. I know that much now. Regardless, the past has been established; the next time, I will not make the same mistakes. I healed him as best as I could.”
“You... what was that?”
“Oh, sa, I have not explained it to you yet. I figured this out during my battles. There is a stronger link between the body and the soul than we previously thought. We serialists seem to have a highly accelerated rate of recovery as it concerns our wounds. When I was pierced by a crossbow, I managed to avoid bleeding to death. Just as well, I had more or less graduated to stable condition when the doctors finally examined me. I never got any scars either. Do you remember the injuries you sustained that night in Palostrol?”
“Sa. I was left in pretty bad shape. Fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, bruised hips, and a broken ego,” he grinned.
“And yet a week later, you were well enough to travel. Indeed, by then I recall it were as if you had not been hurt at all. Did you not find it strange?”
“Not really... I like to think I can take a few blows and bounce back,” Denze laughed. “But I see your point. Fascinating, really. How does this help your father?”
“Seras is the key. Even if one is not a serialist, seras from others can still affect them.”
“Wait...” Denze paused, furrowing his brow. “How can seras pass from one person to another?”
“Sa... I have not explained that to you yet. I have a lot to teach you and Mesel, I see. Raw seras is just as it sounds, the very energy of your own soul, unfiltered, unadulterated. Rather than serializing to manipulate light, or kinetic energy, you directly work with seras. That was the test Master Eltin left to me and Siersus, to prove we could manage raw seras.”
“That... sounds incredible,” Denze said, stroking his chin.
“Sa. It allows a host of series to be performed that normally cannot be done with heat, electricity, or any of the series we learned in Palostrol. Digressing, I used it to help my father. It should do him plenty good. He just needs rest now.”
“Amazing,” Denze continued. “We rarely studied any medicinal purposes back then. To think that it could be so easy to expand on that area.”
“Sa. Raw seras seems to allow our bodies to restore themselves even after suffering extreme damage.”
“Extreme, sa?” Denze said, reaching up to touch the cloth covering his left eye. “But if that is the case, if I can heal so quickly before... why is this still...?” he murmured, looking down.
“Denze,” Losha said, taking a step closer. “How did you... That is to say, what exactly happened to your eye?”
Denze turned around slightly to the side, facing the wall, avoiding her.
“We have known each other for nearly four years now. You never said, and it was not my place to pry.”
“Indeed, it is not,” he said, his one good eye maintained its downward gaze as he slowly shifted on his feet.
“I am sorry, but if I can help you in any way, it concerns me, as your friend.”
“I know,” he said curtly at first. “I... I know... It is just, well, sa,” he sighed. “It really is not something I care to bring up. Not now when you just got back. I just want to spend today relaxing and getting updated on all of your tales and exploits. Listen... We can talk about it later. I promise.”
“I see, Denze. I mean, you are a man of many mysteries. What would we do without your illusion and allure?” she winked at him.
“Hey, a man has to have his secrets.” They laughed together as they went along.
“Well, you are not alone in that sort of regard,” she said, to which Denze raised an eyebrow. Despite all that had happened between the three of them, Losha had not yet disclosed to Mesel or Denze just what exactly had transpired in Palostrol so long ago. They knew nothing of King’s goal, his aim, or the purpose he’d placed upon her. She had always intended to inform them at the proper moment. Eventually they’d have to know; it was something that could not be ignored indefinitely.
“I shall tell you once all of this is finished. It is something you and Mesel need to hear.”
“Wow, sounds suddenly super serious.”
“It is exactly that. For now, do not worry about it. We will discuss it thoroughly once I return. I would like to stay a while longer here, but I suppose I ought to freshen up a bit. I am off to see someone in Sevia.”
“Who?”
“Someone who technically is my boss.”
Losha didn’t really need the address Kana had given her the night before. With her current proficiency, she could detect Boz’s seras frequency all the way from home. It was a bit difficult to sense his out of the thousands in Sevia, but she was getting better at the whole process. From there, she walked deeper into Sevia. As the strength of the frequency changed, Losha gradually pinpointed his location. She only used Kana’s note to verify the place.
During her trip, however, scores of Sventa greeted her. Just the other day she had been another anonymous woman, but today it seemed all of Sevia recognized her. People stopped to wave and thank her. Soldiers halted to give salutes. Even small children cried in wide-eyed amazement at her presence. In the backdrop they chattered on.
“Did you see her?”
“Sa! So it is true!”
“The Wolf has returned!”
“She will finish this war for sure!”
“She is back! Then everything is well.”
Losha responded kindly, if awkwardly to this sudden popularity, even though she remained at a loss to explain it. No one had noticed her face a day ago; now she had become known to everyone. This greatly puzzled her until she turned down one street in particular. Posters with her image were spread out, stuck against the sides of various buildings. Most carried illustrations of her person, both with and without her Wolf of War pelt. At least a few had photographs of her; some showed her using serialization in battle too. She recalled the settings and backgrounds; they were from the Battle of Totul.
“When were these taken?” she wondered to herself. It proved a very curious matter for her; she could little remember anyone with a camera there at the time. Though, on the other hand, she could not speak or account for everything that had happened on that day. “Is this propaganda?” she muttered as she inspected one.
“Losha Holvate Sventa. Champion of the Clan,” it read.
“Well, I suppose I should not complain. It is a positive message, but I hope they do not begin to idolize me...”
Shaking her head, she went on. The meeting with Boz occurred in a small, not-so-noteable office. She entered in a door on ground level and immediately saw a male soldier to her left.
“Ver Holvate,” he saluted, then gestured quickly with his arm towards another door. “Ver Delte awaits you over there.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“No, thank you. Without your efforts, a lot of my friends would be dead. I grew up in Totul, you see. I do not have enough words to express my gratitude. Forgive me for delaying you.”
“Sa, it is alright.”
She went through the door, coming across a short hall; a single room stood at the end. Here, with the entrance already open, was Boz’s workplace. Boz himself sat at his desk, musing over a piece of paper. In one hand, he fiddled with the medallion of his, flipping it around with his fingers. Hearing her footsteps, Boz looked up.
“Well now,” he smiled, rising up. He put his medallion off to the side as he walked towards Losha. He offered her his hand upon her arrival. “Ver Holvate, quite the pleasure to see you again after all of this time,” he said as they shook firmly.
“Likewise, Boz. But you know how I am about formalities. If at least you could treat me... normally, I guess, that would do just fine.”
“Sa, sa. Perhaps in this business it is better to stick to procedure, strictly codewords, codenames. Welcome back, Wolf.” He nodded a bit before letting go of her grip. “Though, you will probably have to get used to that sort of recognition sooner or later. You are a hero, a legend, Sventa’s great defender. The people have an immense respect for you.”
“Sa, as I have seen... Boz, what was with all of those posters outside? I seem to be everywhere.”
“Ah, that,” Boze said as he turned around, slowly pacing back into his office. He threw his arms up slightly, hunching his shoulders. “A number of people got excited upon hearing word of your return. They quickly threw a bunch of them downtown. If they had had their way, they probably would have thrown you an entire parade,” Boz chuckled.
“I see,” she said. She didn’t quite understand how some of the posters had her battle photos. Perhaps those had been leaked purposefully... “At any rate, any celebrations can wait until this is finished. Which brings us here.”
Boz stopped behind his desk and looked at her. “And do you know precisely why you are here now?” he asked.
“As I see it, there are only two reasons you called me here. Either you want to give me orders to join up with a division and wage war against the entire Henron clan...”
“Or?”
“Or you plan to let me have an even longer leash.”
“Leash?” he echoed in surprise for a moment, but then he soon grinned. “Sa, that. Let us have a seat then.”
Losha pulled up a chair to his desk. Boz clasped both hands together and leaned forward. “We received an intelligence brief this morning about the location of Govan’s forces. They are about a day and a half away from the Henron capital. The First and Second Divisions are being ordered to move into Henron as we speak.”
“What?!” Losha exclaimed.
“The Tabran gave the word last night. They knew that their support would be short-lived, so they took the opportunity to strike now. If our people get involved in battle over there, they will be stuck in combat, even if we order them to pull out. By the time another decision comes from the Tabran, it will be too late.”
“How can we even mobilize two whole divisions so quickly?”
“With the Ganglan Pass still snowed in, the Talimer Forest secured, and the Sholat River running strong this early in the year, that leaves little ways to approach Sventa from the east, save for a direct assault through the central lowlands. We anticipated an Henron strike soon; those two divisions were practically sitting on the border.”
“That explains why I missed them,” Losha said. “I took a more northern route. They must have been out of my range; I did not sense their frequencies.”
“They will be moving double-time. The plan is to catch up with Govan’s forces, take him out, then surround and siege the capital.”
“Shrieks,” Losha whispered, cupping a hand over her mouth as her gaze turned to the side. “Alright, so what do you intend to have me do?”
Boze took a deep breath as he pressed his back against his chair. “What I want to do is cut you loose from my command. My authority over you has always been nominal at best. However, I cannot do that. I have to assume liability for what I want you to do. Losha, I want you to stop the First and Second Divisions from fighting the Henron rebels. Your first objective is to meet with them before they can reach Govan. After that, find a way to defeat the loyalists. By the time everything is done, we should be able to restart peaceful negotiations, as long as you can keep our forces from attacking the new Henron government.”
“Boz,” she said, looking at him. “If you take my side, my cause, you know you will be working against the highest body of power in Sventa, sa?”
“As far as I am concerned, I am looking at the highest body of power right now. I am merely giving you the go-ahead for something you would have done anyway. If you are going to do this your way, you might as well have some support,” he smiled.
“So... you believe that there can be peace between Sventa and Henron?”
“You heard the Delte vote, as Kana told me. Let us just say I simply believe in you. I do not think I can honestly say anything is impossible anymore, not after seeing what you have done.”
“I suppose you have a point there. Are there any other specifics I need to know before I leave? What kind of details can you provide me with, or am I going in blind?”
“You will not be doing this alone.”
“No? You mean...?”
“Sa. I have assembled your old team, WOLFWIND. They have been staged at a waypoint near the border. Your first task is to form up with them. I have a few documents to give you. The map included with them will specify their exact location. Rendezvous with WOLFWIND, then proceed straight away into Henron. Obviously, I will leave the method to you, but from there you need to find a way to halt our forces.”
“And once I stop them, I have to go after Govan before he gets to Capital City. I can take him down with Core Lead Liveta’s help, but it would be best if a new Henron is established with Sventa’s aid, not just mine alone. Ending the war does not mean simply ending the fighting. It is more than that. Our clans need to build trust and understanding. After we stop the First and Second Divisions, we need to convince them to help defeat Govan, else we lose our chance to truly reset our relationship with Henron. Somehow, I have to get the divisions to fight alongside me”
“Losha, the priority here is ensuring the rebels do not lose. For that, it does not matter who tackles Govan’s units, as long as he is no longer a threat.”
“Boz, if Sventa does not fight him, the whole situation is a loss.”
“What do you mean?” Boz asked, cocking his head. “As long as the rebels come out victorious, Henron will reform itself, and we will gain a new ally. That is what you were thinking, was it not?”
“Things are more complicated than that. Should I merely stop our divisions from advancing, it will be as if Sventa itself stood on the sidelines. It cannot just be me alone that fights for Henron. If that becomes the case, if no one joins me, it means our clan is not ready for change. The conflict will be won, but not closed. This war will end, but only until the next breaks out. Unless we do something to reach out to Henron, to demonstrate that there can be friendship between us, the cycle is bound to repeat, given enough time. Altering the state of affairs between Sventa and Henron requires participation from both groups. Standing by in their time of need now is a poor way to prove that things can be different in the future. There is nothing left for it. Boz, I think it is time we find out just how much the people of Sventa actually believe in me. I will give the First and Second Divisions my ultimatum: follow me or go home.”
“Even for you, Wolf, that is quite bold. You would be asking thousands of soldiers to openly disobey their orders, to commit mutiny.”
“Are you not willing to get caught in the fallout of something so grand and audacious?”
“Hardly...” he chuckled. “As I said, I believe in you. It is in your hands then. One more thing. You will need this. It is an important piece of equipment. Your success on the field may very well depend on this.” He reached behind the desk and pulled out Losha’s Wolf of War pelt. He set it in front of her; immediately she smiled, grabbing it with both hands. She began sliding the headpiece over herself as soon as her fingers wrapped around the fine fur.
“I have more documents here as well, all describing the planned movements of the First and Second Divisions. Let me go over them with you for a moment.”
“No need, Boz. Just answer one more question for me.” she said, securing the pelt in place, assuming her famous appearance.
“Really? What is it?”
“When do I start?”
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