Serial
98: Future foundations
March 26th, 33 S.D. 14:44 Capital City, Henron
“You really did quite a bit of damage here,” Tami said, looking out through a glassless window. Losha and WOLFWIND stood inside the battered confines of the Henron court. As expected, upon her return, the Wolf of Sventa saw what a sorry state the grand building was in. Patches of carpet were ripped, stained, or scrunched up; everything on the floor needed new upholstery. The walls seemed to wrinkle beneath the paint, like paper that had dried after being wet. Already, a striking smell crept through the corridors, the beginnings of mold and mildew. Debris yet lay strewn at their feet; most of it consisted of garbage. Various holes, especially in the ceiling, appeared, perhaps the results of growing structural issues.
“Shrieks,” Yega said, looking around. “This place is in shambles, Losha.”
“Sa. It appears to have gotten worse since I was last here,” she remarked.
“Ksh!” Faima smirked, kicking over the remains of what looked to be a table. “You basically ruined it. No way they can fix it up.”
“They would have to tear it all down, start over again from scratch,” Yega predicted.
“Hey, genuis, that is why we came here,” Faima frowned.
“Se? I do not remember you guys telling me anything like that.”
“Sorry to say, Yega, but you never listen,” Tami sighed, shaking his head as he gave him a pat on the shoulder.
The problems the court now suffered proved rather extensive, more than Losha had ever intended. Nevertheless, Henron architects had deemed everything beyond reasonable repair. By their own estimates, she’d caused the equivalent of a week’s worth of flooding. To restore the court to even half of its original condition would require near a decade of work and funds the clan simply didn’t have. Ultimately, they had concluded it best to scrap the current building and make something entirely new. To that end, Losha had been sought out.
“It strikes me as a shame,” Tami said, walking over to pick up a bent candle holder. He looked it over before tossing it in a corner. “I think it would have been nice to see everything when it was it its prime. I bet it used to be an interesting place.”
“I can assure you, my friend, the court was a wonderful piece of work it its day,” said a voice from behind them. Albolt strolled in from the hallway, smiling at their lot.
“Good afternoon, Minister Albolt,” Losha said in reply. “Or perhaps I should say Councilor?”
“Sa, you know, I am getting old and older. I do not really know if I could keep up with the soon-to-be-formed Henron Council. I was slowing down even as I served under Heigon. And now everyone wants a few more years out of me. My intent was to retire after things settled. However, I suppose the one rule of life my father taught me still holds true.”
“What would that be?” Losha asked.
“Things are never settled,” the old man chuckled. “There is always something to do, so it looks like I will always be needed.” He cracked another laugh and shook his head for a bit.
“Well, you are the chief designer of the new government. It comes to you to show the people how it should run.”
“I suppose I would feel something terrible if my vision for Henron never came about over something so trivial as my age,” he winked.
“By the way,” Losha said, sweeping her arm to the side. “This is my unit, WOLFWIND. Yega, Tami, and Faima.”
“A pleasure to meet you all,” Albolt said with a nod. Her teammates likewise returned the greeting. “I am glad you came Losha. This really would help us in the long-term.”
“But... Is everyone certain about this?” she asked, folding her arms.
“Sa, it has already been decided. This place needs to come down. With your art, this should be no trouble at all, correct?”
“Indeed. It will not take much to demolish the court, but are you certain it should really be left up to me?” Losha wondered. “The court is a symbol of your people regardless of Heigon’s legacy. Perhaps it ought to be in your hands. It feels as if I would be violating a part of your history. I mean, attacking the court in the first place was necessary due to the war, but for me to further lay waste to it... Is that not a bit insulting?”
“Oh, not at all,” Albolt smiled. “Believe me, we Henron are not in the least displeased to see it go. I suppose you would not know this unless you grew up in these parts, but most folks have generally had an unfavorable view of the court for generations. It was always seen as too distant and detached from the rest of our society. Look at it. The city already has walls, yet the court has its own smaller set surrounding all sides, as if it were trying to cut itself from the populace. Access here is only given to select individuals: Heigon himself, ministers, general staff, and particular elements of the rich and influential. People began to resent this place as a clubhouse, especially as things worsened for us economically. The new court will be nothing like that. In short, Losha, we will not be sad to see it go. It is long past due for something else to start up.”
Losha turned her head towards the window. “There seems to be quite a crowd drawing near,” she observed, sensing a growing number of seras frequencies just beyond the court’s perimeter.
“Sa, it has become something of a scheduled spectacle, you see. One last look before it gets torn down. They may despise it, but that is all the more reason to come. Tibil and a few others from Heigon’s old order should be here shortly. Everyone else will be restricted to the gates and the streets, but we will have ‘front-row seats’ as the Gandians say.”
“I do not suppose Liveta will join us?”
“Unfortunately, no. Her work keeps her busy enough as it is these days. She told me she would be able to see things just fine from headquarters. That building overlooks most of the city as it is.”
“Sa, it looks like the engineers from earlier will be arriving as well,” Losha said, noting the approach of their familiar frequencies. “We should probably go speak to them. I need to know in detail what they want me to do and how.”
All five of them got up and left. They let Albolt outside first, followed by WOLFWIND, and at last Losha. As they exited, Albolt paused before Losha walked out of the front entrance.
“Losha, would you mind closing those doors?” the old man asked. “Maybe it seems silly, but it feels proper for the occasion. We shut the doors on this part of our history. Eventually, we will open something new, something better.”
Losha nodded, grabbing the doors and pulling them together one final time. The one on the right was slightly off its hinge, so they didn’t make a perfect fit. In any case, she let it alone and continued walking with the others. Near the fountain in the court’s garden, several elderly-looking people had assembled, Albolt’s cohorts, former ministers. They exchanged pleasantries shortly, engaging in small talk, but their meeting was interrupted as soon as the Henron engineers made their way through the gates. Sneaking in among them, Tibil appeared as well. Losha excused herself from their company as she and the experts went off to the side to discuss the operation.
“Good afternoon, Albolt, ministers, WOLFWIND,” Tibil said, nodding at each group, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Welcome to the show, Marshal,” said a woman, one of the previous members of the court.
“Come to see your home come down, sa?” asked another man with a grin. The court served as a place of residence for Tibil and his father. That particular tradition had been established ever since the court was built over a century ago.
“It never felt like a place I actually lived in. How best to explain this? I guess, it hardly had a sense of family. Father practically ignored me, and aside from school, I had little contact with my peers. I have very lonely memories of this building. I wonder if things would have been different if mother were still around. Maybe Heigon would have changed. Who can say though? Nonetheless, I will not be sorry to see it go. I think I can build a better house for myself anyway.”
They talked with themselves for a while longer, however, Losha and the engineers covered everything quickly. Just a few minutes after three ‘o’ clock, they were ready to begin their work. Beyond the walls of the court, crowds swarmed the roads, grinding traffic to a stop. In the hour leading up to the demolition, the capital had ever so slowly been winding down. Shops all around displayed their “Out For Lunch” signs, temporarily closing for the upcoming attraction. People who ordinarily found themselves rushing about their business all at once had time to view something symbolic as well as historic.
“So, they are finally knocking that place down?” asked a small boy, apparently unattended by anyone.
“Sa, quite right lad,” answered a young man, sitting on a bench. “They say it is too banged up on the inside, like it could take a lifetime to fix. We are going to start fresh.”
“A fresh start, sa?” asked a woman close to them. “I hope that happens soon. You know, a number of us lost jobs as staff there...”
“We will get something better, I am sure,” chimed in a man with a mustache. “And everyone will get better pay this time,” he added with a wink.
“I just hope that whatever we build next is not nearly as expensive or extravagant as that one,” said a middle-aged woman, standing beside her horse and cart. “It is not like we can really afford things like fancy buildings anyway.”
“Hey, look at that!” someone said.
“What is happening now?”
“Looks like it is about to start.”
Murmurs of excitement rose over their ranks as the citizens held still, peering towards the court. All of sudden, a large, blue translucent dome sprang up around the court, encapsulating it. Losha cast a kinetic barrier over the structure, separating it from the rest of the city. This measure ensured no material would escape when she destroyed the court. By containing the area, everything would be much safer than otherwise. Additionally, it would aid in the clean-up, limited the spread of the court's remains.
Inside the dome, Losha began another series, one that applied overwhelming pressure from all sides. The court groaned loudly from stress as all three of its massive floors began to buckle. Its walls shuddered and wavered while cracks ran up and down their lengths. Across the capital, the sound of snapping wood echoed broadly. A great crash followed soon, and then the court’s collapse was fulfilled. Everything came tumbling down, caving in a giant heap. The very top of the court sank into a cloud of dust before disappearing altogether from sight. Like a globe, the dome rapidly filled up with grayish brown smoke, however, none of it every left Losha’s force-field. As she shrunk the dome, compressing the plumes along with it, the people of the city cheered and whistled. Albolt had been correct; they were not at all upset to see the court go.
The whole procedure, thanks to serialization, took less than a few minutes to complete. Once she removed the barrier, all that was left were piles of rubble and ruin. With the court leveled rather neatly, things were finished as far as the crowds were concerned. Unpaused, the city returned to work, taking up its daily routine where the people had left it. Residents scattered back to their lives, but not without a sense of optimism. For the first time in months, it felt as if peace were at last on the horizon, and along with that more prosperous times.
There remained a number of tasks for Losha, however, regarding the demolition. She used various kinetic series to move away the court’s final pieces, shuffling them away into large bins fixed on flat wagons. What couldn’t be salvaged would have to be thrown out. The rest of the usable material would be recycled, though not necessarily for the new court. Since a fair amount of timber, stone, and metal now stood together in a grand mound, Losha, WOLFWIND, and a crew of others spent the next few hours clearing out everything. Even with the power of serialization at her command, it simply took a lot of time to complete the job. However, without the art, they would have spent weeks to get as much done. When sundown came, everyone agreed that they’d accomplished more than enough for that day.
“We greatly appreciate your help, Ver Holvate,” said the foreman. He and the rest around him bowed slightly, much to Losha’s discomfort. She accepted their gratitude, humbly however.
“Sa, I was happy to be of service.”
“We should be fine from here. We have the foundation exposed and free of debris. All we need to do now is move out the trash, then we can start our new chapter.”
They thanked her once again and took their leave. Everyone else had gone off by then except for Tibil and WOLFWIND.
“A bit strange to hear it, sa?” Tami asked.
“Being thanked by the enemy. Never thought I would see such goodwill from Henron,” Faima said with a faint smile.
“Just recently, we would have been at each other’s throats,” Yega said, frowning as he tenderly touched his own neck.
“Our ‘enemies’ are simply constructs of the times and circumstances we find ourselves in,” Tibil said. “We are not ‘true’ enemies in a sense. I should hope, however, that the friendship our people foster grows into something eternal. Losha, you have done something our history has claimed impossible. You bridged the gap between two clans. Everyone here respects you. They think of you as a hero. You are the link between Sventa and Henron, a champion for both lands.”
“I do not think all of that praise befits me,” Losha said, shifting uneasily on her feet. Tami merely shook his head and laughed.
“You cannot possibly be so modest, not forever. One of these days, we will teach you how to gloat. Well, commander, the three of us are ready for dinner. What say you?”
“Go on ahead. I believe the Marshal and I have a specific matter to discuss.”
“State business, sa?” Faima asked. “Ksh, all the more reason to go right now.”
“Sorry Losha,” Yega said. “Seems like that is solo mission only you can handle.”
“I had no idea you all so disliked hashing out political solutions,” Losha smiled.
“Feh! Fighting is my specialty. Nothing else,” Faima said. WOLFWIND departed, and once those three were out of earshot, Losha and Tibil were practically alone.
“Do remind me again, Losha, what exactly you wanted to talk about?”
“Your father,” she said, folding her arms. “Or at least, whoever really started this war.”
Tibil looked at her seriously, dropping his head a bit. “You are referring to the discrepancies of his death?”
“Sa. No one but the four of us - Liveta, Albolt, you, and me - completely knows the situation. The coroners know a partial amount of the details, but aside from that, the list is short. It still worries me. How could he had been alive one moment, then decaying half and hour later? The facts are there. Heigon’s real date of death was some nine or ten months ago. He was dead for a long time. That leaves just one question burning in my mind. Who was it that everyone else saw during that period? A ghost? A phantom? An imposter?”
“No, no,” Tibil said, shaking his head back and forth. “It had to have been him. I would have known; someone else would have found out.”
“And yet, all the evidence says otherwise. Tibil, I know you and Heigon never had the best relationship, but he was still your father, the only family you had. I think you of all people deserve an answer. Whoever played your father during the war also wanted you dead. If you want to know the truth, you need to entertain all options. We live in a world where people can use their souls to make things moves, where soldiers can see the future or see through walls,” she said, referencing Suvla and Avil respectively. “It is not so farfetched that someone could perfectly mimic another for almost a full year.”
Tibil shifted his lips from side-to-side. “I get your point. It is possible, but it just seems so surreal. You understand the implications as well as I do: someone or some group was instigating the war, but it was not Heigon.”
“Sa. If that person really was not your father, then who was he? More importantly, what would they hope to achieve by drumming up a war?”
“There is always a thirst for war among any of the clans,” Tibil pointed out. “Perhaps father passed away, but certain members of his court saw this as an opportunity to start conflict with Sventa. Maybe father refused the idea when he was alive, but after his death, this group used a double to further their cause.”
“But what would be their true goal?” Losha wondered, cupping her chin. “It simply does not make sense. Remember what the original dispute was? Claims of territory over who possessed the Talimer Forest. The reason, supposedly, was to secure more resources for Henron, but even in Sventa, the forest is hardly known for its lumber. We scarcely use it to that end at all. Then you get to logistics. It simply proves too expensive to transport any amount over the Sholat River, and that body of water runs downstream, away from the most populated parts of both our clans. Even then, you would be transporting them halfway across Henron just to use it.”
“So, you believe the initial push for war was a front for another motive?” Tibil asked.
“It may well have been,” Losha sighed. “Consider that Sventa has the largest armed forces in the Central Plains, or at least we did until Govan obliterated an entire division. Nevertheless, we were roughly 30 percent bigger than any other. One does not merely wage a war against us unless they have a good reason and a chance to win. From what I see, Henron never had a solid cause to attack. It does not add up. That makes me very suspicious that some other reason exists.”
“And what on the Continent would that be? Both sides lost thousands, and the only thing either side gets is peace with the possibility for improved relations. Heigon is gone, true, but why start a war with another clan to do that? And why have someone fake Heigon’s identity. It seems quite contrived, especially when other means may have sufficed.”
“I do not think it had anything to do with removing your father from power. In truth, that might have been a side effect. I believe it is something larger, something to do with...”
She wanted to say serialization, but that couldn’t be right. Ten months ago, she was still in Palostrol. No one but the school and Nabel knew anything about the art. The timeline didn’t match. She grumbled and closed her eyes for a second. Was it serastone then?
“Can you promise me something?” she asked.
“What have you got?”
“Our world is changing now. You and I will fulfill important roles for our clans. However, it is clear a most troubling conspiracy is afoot. We can assume it already lead us to war once; who knows what it will do next. The two of us will go on to stand next to the most powerful and influential people in our societies, some of whom may have been responsible. I only ask that we both keep our eyes focused. I doubt this is the last time matters of this nature will challenge us. Things are never settled, after all.”
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