Serial
110: The Select Sect
August 16th, 38 S.D. 12:08 Sevia, Sventa
As Losha approached the Vental, the large building that housed Sventa’s governing assembly, an impending sense of anxiety hung over her. She knew that things would not go over well with the Tabran, given the results of her latest mission. What concerned her was how poor their reaction would be, to what extent they would disapprove. Years ago, she had been defiant against their authority. Now, however, she worried there might be repercussions for her school and students. In the past, she had only herself to look after, but today she was responsible for others.
She wore a tarvesh, a semi-formal Asten outfit that consisted of long and loose garments. The guards posted outside instantly recognized the Wolf of Sventa and saluted her. In addition to being a hero of the clan, she was also Torom of Holvate, a full-fledged member of the Tabran itself, and a member of one the land’s most influential families. Even so, the outcome of her recent black operation could little be ignored by the rest of those in power...
“Good afternoon, Losha,” one of the sentries said. Over time, despite the esteem surrounding her, people had finally dropped the “Ver” prefix from her name. All of her insistence had paid off.
“Sa, good afternoon, you two.”
“They say they are waiting for you in the chamber,” the other guard informed her.
“Thank you. I suppose I had better go on then.” She let one open the door for her, and she stepped into the Vental.
The Sventa-Henron war had forever changed the way her clan governed itself. Historically, Toroms from all over the region would congregate twice a year, once for a summer session, and later again for a winter meeting. During the conflict with their eastern neighbor, the old way of decision making had proved too slow and ineffective to manage the raging battles. Eventually, the Tabran began convening every month. That habit had now became the standard. For the second week of every month, Toroms sent their representative here to Sevia for three days to sort out clan-wide issues. The latest session had just ended the day before. With that matter out of the way, she’d been summoned to the Vental without explanation, though the reasons were apparent enough to her.
Only Losha, Boz, and WOLFGANG were supposed to have known about the mission in Angali; a leak must have let information slip. If Losha had to guess, Boz had been forced to explain himself already. Now it was her turn. At the very least, they were going to question her involvement about those events. What kind of reprimand, if any, were to be brought against her remained unknown. She couldn’t judge people’s moods, not as extensively as Virel could. If only the girl were with her then, the Wolf would have known what she was heading into.
As she walked down the spinning, circular hallways, she came ever closer to the central chamber where representatives gathered. Where there were usually hundreds, only seven souls gathered inside the great room. She knew as much by sensing their seras frequencies. Most of them were familiar to her from her former visits to the Tabran. Their names and faces eluded her, but the resonance of another’s soul was not easily forgotten by a serialist. Needless to say, on the other side she immediately sensed her brother, Harle.
The next pair of guards saluted her crisply as she nodded at them. Each reached for a ring on one of the sealed doors leading into the chamber and pulled. The massive wooden portal creaked open for her, and only a handful of meters afterward it shut up again. Without its full occupancy, the Tabran chamber looked absolutely huge. No windows reached this place, so the primary source of light came from a large chandelier hoisted above a raised platform in the middle of the room. In addition to that, several dozen lamps burned among the rows of seats. Though she’d only been here no more than four times, it had always been brimming with political clamor. Now, however, the air was stiff with silence.
Ahead of her, sitting and fanning out in a sort of semi-circle around her, seven Torom representatives were waiting for her. Each sat on the middle row of their section, two to either side of her, and three in front. Harle was face-to-face with her, the first one she saw. Quickly, Losha glanced around at the rest before stopping in the center of the platform.
“Welcome to the Tabran, Losha,” Harle said, holding a notebook on his lap. He looked down for a moment, then back at his sister. “Thank you for coming to this private meeting. We would like to have a word or two with you regarding a particular matter of importance. We hope you can impart some of your insight and perspective upon us.”
“What is this about, Harle?” Losha asked bluntly, folding her arms. It wasn’t her style to dance around subjects, and she didn’t want anyone to be indirect with her either. “You need not treat me as if I were so fragile.”
“Indeed, Ver Harle,” said an older woman in her 50’s, barely a meter off to Harle’s left. She had sharp and shrewd features along with the most piercing, intolerant eyes. The lady always held her head back, as if observing something beneath her. “Do not coddle her like a child. She will be fine if we come right out and say it.”
“My apologies, Ver Lada. That was not my intention,” Harle said diplomatically. “However, since the two of you seem favorable to the idea, we shall get straight to business.”
“Then state what purpose has drawn me here,” Losha said.
A man to Harle’s right shuffled around some papers. “Go on, Ver Steval,” Harle said.
“Thank you,” the man said. He had a long, drooping beard, a pair of spectacles, and eyes that were beginning to sink back into his head. “We are a committee dedicated to safeguarding the overall security and stability of Sventa. We are involved with every aspect of Sventa society: agriculture, arts, sciences, internal policy, law, the clan’s economy, and last but not least, the military. We are essentially the committee that sets the course for every session of the Tabran.”
“I am well aware of who the Select Seven are and what they do. While the public knows very little about you, what my brother does here is not exactly a secret in our family,” Losha replied. “But what I would like to know is what would you seven have with me.”
“I think you already know quite well why you are here,” Lada frowned.
Steval looked at his counterpart, then back to some papers before him. “Well, to finally answer your question, Losha, we would like to know more about the night of the 11th of this month,” he explained
“The night that pillar of light appeared to the west,” she said.
“Sa, sa,” Lada grumbled, waving her hand. “Let us get straight to the point. We know you were there. Our sources led us to Boz Delte Sventa, whom we have recently interviewed. This is not the first time I have had to deal with my fellow Delte. No official report was ever made from you yourself; you only provided an oral account of what you were up to. We heard what Boz had to say, but his is a second-hand version of the story. We need to hear it from you. You will now answer a number of our questions.”
“Very well,” Losha said, shifting to the side.
Steval cleared his throat momentarily. “Your involvement in that incident stems from your relationship with Boz, correct?” he asked.
“Sa. He was my former commander in the war. I still accept various assignments on his behalf.”
“And your involvement with that incident was the result of one of your assignments?”
“Sa.”
“Although all of us have read and heard about the mission,” Harle began, “please explain its parameters and objectives in your own words.”
“Our goal, the goal of my team, was to infiltrate Angali territory, specifically one location in the Mandal Range. From there, we were to investigate a mine and determine if the Angali had been extracting serastone. If that were the case, we were to destroy the mine by any means.”
“And who authorized this?” Lada asked, flicking her brow up for a short second. “Who sanctioned any of the operation?”
“As far as Boz could with his permissions, he gave me the okay.”
“Which amounts to nothing,” Lada sneered slightly. “That man alone cannot decide whether any Sventa can make foreign incursions, not during times of peace.”
“But these are not the years of peace, Ver Lada.”
“What?” the woman snapped.
“After the Sventa-Henron war, clans have taken notice of serastone. There is an arms race going on across the Central Plains. People are vying to get their hands on the stone, and if they do, everyone is going to be worse off.”
“Even so, Losha,” Harle said, “something of this nature must first be approved by the Tabran.”
“Boz and I were aware of that, brother, which is why we moved covertly. Had we waited, things would have gotten out of hand. It was fortunate we intervened when we did.”
“From the statements we gathered from Boz,” Steval started, “it sounds like the Angali would have eventually blown themselves up messing with this so-called ‘artifact’ they excavated.”
“Perhaps,” Losha said. “But then Simona Hart would be dead. She knows a great deal about serastone and where to find it. We can use her to stop serastone from proliferating. Furthermore, we were able to eliminate several of Hart’s creations; they could easily have escaped that night, leaving havoc wherever they went”
“But invading other clans on a whim?” Lada asked. “Let us be very clear, Losha, you may be the champion of our people, but we do not give you free license to start conflicts against whatever enemy you feel like. You cannot get up and decide to fight whomever it suites you.”
“Allow me to be just as clear: serastone is an absolute threat in anyone’s hands. Would you rather wait for the plains to turn to war again, and have yet another serasword at your throat? Or would you rather have me tackle the problem before it infringes everyone’s safety? I have a duty not just to Sventa, but the Continent at large. I swore serialization would be for good, and I will not have serastone interfere with that.”
“So, you would take unilateral action, put yourself above this very government, even if it meant-”
Harle held up his hand as if to restrain Lada as her voice and venom rose. The other members of the Select Seven looked warily at Lada, but their lips remained tightly glued.
“At any rate, we would like to hear a summary of the events of that night,” Harle said.
“Sa. I took my team across the Central Plains by stealth until we reached Angali on the 11th. Based on the intelligence we received, we headed for the Mandal Range located in the western reaches of Angali. From there we tracked down the site of their mining facilities and reconned the position. At nightfall, we infiltrated the mine, using the darkness and the rain as cover. I descended into a large pit they had dug out, searching for evidence of serastone.”
“And what exactly did you find there?” Steval inquired, cupping his chin and leaning forward.
“Exactly what we had thought: serastone. However, there was more.”
“This ‘artifact’ you speak of?”
“Indeed. As soon as we discovered serastone in the mine, Simona Hart arrived and we were forced to hide. The Angali then brought out the artifact and showed it to her. They had just recently unearthed it.”
“And just what precisely is this ‘artifact’ we keep talking about?” Lada demanded. “It all sounds so vague and terribly obscure. Enlighten us, Wolf.”
“Hart is the one who calls it an artifact. She believes it was a remnant of the past. In truth, it was what appeared to be a large hunk of serastone standing several dozen meters in height. It could have easily filled this very chamber.”
Harle looked around at the others in the committee, seeing that everyone was exchanging glances and whispers. “The Angali had that much access to serastone?” he asked, his face wrinkling up in confusion, trying to comprehend just how vast the amount was.
“Sa. Enough for thousands of seraswords. Though, the artifact seemed to be more than just stone. It... seemed to be part of a device, like it had a function of some sort.”
“A device?” Steval echoed. “Like what?”
“Hart contends it was part of the giants often mentioned in our fables. What it did at the mine, however, was release a lot of seras into the environment.”
“Alright. What happened after Hart saw the artifact?” Harle pressed. “Guide us through what happened, how the Mandal Range was practically vaporized.”
“Hart wanted to begin investigating the artifact right away. The Angali let her, and she probed into it. That scientist can control the serastone in her body, releasing the energy by her own will. She told me she was merely scanning it with this ability of her, trying to gauge basic properties of the serastone: density, quality, stored seras, and how it would respond to her actions. At first, nothing alarming occurred, then it awakened.”
“Awakened?” Lada scoffed. “And what do you mean by that? The artifact was nothing more than stone, sa? Do you say it was somehow alive, possessed of some kind of sentience?”
“I do not know, Ver Lada,” Losha said. “You should talk to Hart for an expert opinion. All I can attest to is that whatever this thing was, it seemed to have a purpose, a design if you will. It began glowing and flooding the mine with seras. At that time, Hart’s automata, puppets made from serastone, went berserk. Though she was their creator and the one who controlled them, she lost to the artifact. It interfered and caused the automata to run amok. They slaughtered the Angali present, but we defeated them in combat before making our own escape. We only managed to rescue Hart, however.”
“Hmph. And it was a good thing you did at least that much,” Lada said. “With her in our custody, we can get more information about other clans and their activities involving serastone. But even then, I have to wonder how worthwhile she will prove.”
The corner of Losha’s mouth tugged to the side for a moment as she groaned inwardly. Did anything ever please this insufferable woman? It seemed she’d only ever be satisfied if she’d seen to things herself. Losha tolerated Lada’s scornful attitude for now, nevertheless.
“How did the artifact come to explode?” Steval asked, scratching the side of his face as he flipped through more pages.
“Our original plan was to clear the mine with a diversion, then bury it far deeper than anyone could ever reach. The artifact kept releasing seras into the range, and eventually this reached a critical level.”
“A critical level meaning?”
“The seras flowing from the artifact was about to release itself all at once. The presence of that amount of seras would have killed us even if it had not turned into heat and light. The artifact essentially became a bomb, one we could do little but run from. We made our escape just as the energy from that thing ripped apart the land. We barely just made it out of the effective blast range. Not every one of us safely exited, however...”
“Sa, sa,” Lada said, waving her hand again through the air. “Your incompetence led you to lose one of your own. But how extensive was the damage in the aftermath?”
Losha had put up a great deal with Lada, but her dismissive tone made the Wolf bristle. It were as if to her Jun’s death were a footnote in this interview, only relevant to highlight how much Lada evidently disliked her.
“From our assessment, nothing was left of the mine save for a crater of blackened earth. It was approximately two kilometers across.”
“I am sure you have heard what people are saying across the Central Plains by now,” Harle began. “A pillar of light pierced the western sky, turning night into day. Some think it could be seen as far as places in Gandia. To most, it was a supernatural phenomenon, an omen even. Until we ourselves learned from Boz of your mission, we too did not know what to think. It could have been a meteor falling, as the most common idea among the general population goes.”
“What your brother is trying to say,” Lada interrupted, steepling her bony fingers together, “is that something of this nature cannot go unnoticed by the world. The loss of one obscure Angali mine would have been acceptable, had it been done quietly, even without the Tabran’s approval.”
“With all due respect, Ver Lada,” Losha said, even though she genuinely had little for her, “that was the original plan. However, as Ver Steval indicated earlier, events would have played out much the same, with or without our presence. Hart would have probed the artifact anyway, provoking the same response. The only difference would have been the woman’s survival. The artifact’s detonation was all but guaranteed.”
“And yet, thanks to you and yours, Sventa is yet implicated in this mess,” Lada spat as she leaned back.
“Excuse me?”
“Consider this, Wolf. We know the truth of that night, but what about other clans? How could we prove your account if anyone ever pointed blame at Sventa? After all, only your team survived, along with that hussy. All of the evidence was reduced to nothing. Our word alone will not insulate us from accusations.
Losha frowned for a moment. “Why would anyone suspect it was our fault? It was a clandestine operation. No one saw us enter and leave Angali, save for Hart herself. Not even Sventa intelligence knew of our journey until after the fact. Unless word has spread beyond Boz and the Tabran, no one else but us knows the exact events of that night, or that we were even there.”
Lada huffed quickly as she narrowed her eyes. “Of course, due to the sensitivity of the problem, your adventures in the west are classified. They are state secrets; only you, Boz, your team, and the seven of us know. But that is beside the point, Wolf. Think carefully; the sheer destructive power unleashed in the Mandal Range, the light released into the heavens. Whose abilities do these remind you of?”
It only took a second for Losha to understand her insinuation. The kind of raw might displayed by the artifact was very little different from serialization. By now, her exploits during the war had spread to every end of the plains. Tales of her deeds and skills were known amongst every clan, how she could summon the elements themselves, repel an entire avalanche, fly across the land in an instant, and battle thousands on her own.
And then there was her most powerful attack, the Wolf’s Fang, the move she used to defeat Prime Lead Govan and end the war in a single stroke. Yet, that series proved strikingly similar to the artifact’s detonation: a tall spire of light. Legends often inflated its heroes, so some would no doubt believe she were capable of obliterating whole places off the map. Even if Sventa kept silent, the world would look for answers, trying to uncover the mystery of that night. Losha, the famous Wolf, happened to be one solution.
“That is absurd,” Losha shook her head. “If people believe I was responsible for what happened, it would not have have mattered if I really was there or not. The artifact would have followed the same course, and suspicions would still fall upon Sventa, even if I had been here all of this time. Or, perhaps I am simply not twisting logic as nimbly as you do, Ver Lada.”
Lada’s nostrils flared wide as her hands clenched up. “You do not get it, do you?” she asked angrily. “This is larger than your botched mission. The Angali can f**k themselves silly for all I care. What I do care about, however, is the blatant and incessant disregard you show for Sventa’s authority. You may be part of the Torom, and Sventa may yet owe you immensely, but do not expect us to take your affronts to the law so lightly. It was cute when you were young and we were at war, but you can no longer flout the Tabran so freely. This last job of yours is a step gone too far. We cannot allow you to act on your own. Even you must understand that serialization grants you the strength to do as you please, but your choices do not happen in a vacuum. One miscalculated move on your part could in turn lead us to ruin. You have made us a mighty clan, Wolf, but where your courage built us up, your arrogance will tear us down. It is for that reason that there must be limits to what you may do. A sanction must be imposed!”
Losha narrowed her gaze and spoke lowly. “And just what kind of punishment do you have in mind, Lada?”
“This dissolution of your school.”
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