Dodge: Serial 113

After 15 long years, Losha hunts anew. Her target is the mysterious Zeroes. She leaves in search of more information.

Serial 113: Old Hunting Grounds

June 17th, 48 S.D.         09:47        Talostol, Sieg Lowlands

    After a private breakfast, Losha wasted little time making her preparations. Tossing a pack onto her bed, she went about her quarters, gathering all sorts of gear: various maps, rope, a canteen, binoculars, a small pouch of money, cloth, a couple of rags, and lastly, a fresh pack of cigarettes. Ordinarily, a trip this demanding required many more items; Losha however, would rely on serialization for the rest of her needs.

    After putting away her things, she began to dress herself. Though on any normal day she wore loose Asten attire, she had to switch to a more practical outfit for the tasks ahead. Starting with tight-fitting undergarments, Losha soon moved onto her fatigues. Various special forces across the Central Plains had adopted their own versions from Gandian references, often changing minor aspects of their battledress to better suit the vast prairie land. By her own design, Losha had added built-in padding at the knees and elbows. Its colors naturally blended well with earth and plant-life, functional for both fields and forestry. The fatigues fit her perfectly, staying close to her body without restricting her movement. In the summer heat, she rolled up the sleeves, giving her arms room to breath.

    Quickly, she opened the drawer of a low dresser and pulled out a pair of half-gloves. Sinking her hands into each of them, she flexed her fist open and shut, testing how it felt. Her fingers were still nimble, and her grip was as strong as ever. Seeing that she was still as dextrous as before, she grabbed two leather boots from underneath her bed. Losha laced them snugly on her feet, and once satisfied with that, she stood up and reached for one more article. Picking up a belt lined with pouches, the master serialist lashed it around her hip. Currently, it was empty, but there was space for an array of objects. She never knew what she’d find out there. Buckling the front securely to her waist, she found herself once again staring into the mirror. For a moment, she pulled her hair back and adjusted the band of her wolftail, but afterwards, she felt and looked ready.

    The Zeroes... Whoever they were, she’d put a stop to their little group. As much as it irked her to pay Irvis or Sventa any mind, Losha couldn’t ignore this mysterious mercenary group. Even so, her faith in her former clan was nearly non-existent. She couldn’t trust the information she’d been given; she’d have to get her own somehow, from reliable sources. There were few people outside of Talostol she could freely talk to, but she did have someone she could contact. After all the years, it was finally time to pay an old friend a visit.

    Losha threw open her door, tossing her pack over her shoulder as she stepped out. The students were just starting to head for their next lessons; one of them, a small boy, bumped into her while he wasn’t looking. Knocked backwards, he stumbled and gazed wide-eyed at her.

    “S-sorry...” he whispered, examining the head teacher. Losha smiled faintly and patted him on the head.

    “It is alright Janan. You better get moving though.”

    “Sa,” he said, scampering off, glancing backwards in wonder a few more times. Most of her students had no idea what she really was like as a soldier. They only knew her as an instructor. Even as WOLFGANG did odd jobs for Sventa, they never saw her play the part of the Wolf. She’d been sure to minimize her role as a fighter ever since she started the school in Sevia. What did they all make of her, of the warrior within? Awe, shock, admiration, fear? Whatever their reactions, it couldn’t be helped. She was cultivating the art for the world, and if people chose to abuse it, her fangs would have to strike, sooner or later. Battle was unavoidable, and she could not deny her past involvement in the war.

    While walking over to Izel’s stable, Losha pondered if Nabel Viska, the man who had created serialization, had foreseen these events. On that terrible night so long ago, when he had flashed her with a blinding series and forced his history into her own memory, she’d seen the earliest days of the art. The Viska clan wanted serialization as a weapon, much like Sventa wanted Losha under the wings of its military. Nabel’s decision, however, was to slaughter his people, forever erasing serialization from the Continent, at least until his disciple Sambur Eltin founded Palostrol. As she considered things, her position 10 years prior has been no different than Nabel’s, yet the outcomes were so wildly in contrast with one another. Maybe that was the reason Nabel had given the future of serialization to her. Maybe she could take the paths he had never walked and spread the art peacefully...

    With a grunt, Losha shook her head. She hated thinking about Nabel at all. He’d killed Eltin and abducted his students. Even now, she had no idea what had become of her classmates. Worse, Nabel had threatened to annihilate serialization once and for all if Losha failed to keep it in check. Could the Zeroes throw off the balance? Would they trigger Nabel’s wrath? She couldn’t let that happen at any rate. Perhaps this was all but another trial for her to overcome as the one King had chosen. It was ultimately her responsibility to police the use of serialization whether she wanted to admit that or not.

    Eventually, she came to Izel’s stable near the northern end of Talostol. Despite his age, Losha’s prized stallion was as vigorous and spry as the night they had first met. It were as if time had left them both untouched. His fur, white and immaculate, was still smooth; his mane yet flowed thickly over his neck. At the very sight of his partner, Izel stamped over, snorting deeply in her face before nuzzling Losha.

    “Good morning, Izel,” Losha said, rubbing her hand up and down his snout. “It has been a while, but we have work to do.” He puttered gently as if replying to her. She had to ask herself if seras had any effect on animals. If regenesis halted her from growing old, perhaps it could apply to other lifeforms. It was possible that the seras continually radiating from her soul leaked into Izel, prolonging his health. Although she had studied much in her time, the world of serialization remained filled with mysteries. One day, she and others would explore the depths of the art, but for now, a crucial task challenged Losha.

    Tying her pack and a few other bags to Izel, she readied the horse for her departure. She’d thoroughly planned everything in the past hour, thus she spent only a few moments getting her transport set. Scarcely a minute later, Losha led Izel by his harness towards the gates. Ahead of them, the Sieg Lowlands rolled out unto the horizon, flat and grassy for kilometers on end. Beyond all that, beyond what they could see were the Central Plains at large and the clans that ruled them. Somewhere in the open distance was the world she had long since left, a world she had avoided for nearly a decade. Things out there had changed, but how much? Conflict was always on the verge of breaking loose thanks to the numerous alliances between clans, and now the Zeroes as well were causing troubles. What else was different, however?

    Losha grumbled as she realized her thoughts were losing track. As she mounted Izel, a sharp voice called out to her.

    “Hey! Where are you shrieking headed off to?” Faima emerged from around the stables, walking out with her hands on her hips, looking left and right. “This hardly looks like an early morning ride to me.”

    “I have some business to attend to up north,” Losha said.

    “All of sudden? Ksh. That was fast. It has not even been a full day since our little ‘guest’ arrived here. Hope you were planning on telling the rest of us.”

    “I was not going to run off, you know. But haste is important here.”

    “Sa, sa...” Faima shrugged as she leaned against part of the wooden fence. “I figured as much. That did not sound like you talking last night. Anyway, you better tell Denze. You know he flips if he is out of the loop.”

    “Of course I flip when I am not told anything,” said Denze, unseen as he approached.

    “Se? Pretty sneaky guy, hiding your seras frequency like that,” Faima said, eying Denze slyly as he appeared from behind one building.

    “You know I only do that to get around the students, not the rest of you. All the same, I do hate being uninformed like this. What is going on here?” Denze asked, folding his arms.

    “Relax, Denze, she was just going to fill you in before she left,” Faima explained.

    “Leave for where?”

    “North,” Losha said.

    “Today? What for?” Denze pressed.

    “Really, Denze,” Faima smirked. “Take three guesses. Or perhaps I should say, take zero.”

    Denze glanced back and forth between the two women. “Come on, where exactly?” he demanded.

    “Just north,” was all Losha said.

    “No need to be cryptic, Losha,” he insisted. “If this is about what Irvis told us yesterday, we are going to need to take more coordinated, calculated steps before we go after this problem.”

    “There is no ‘we’ here,” Losha said, turning Izel around to Denze. “This is something I will do, alone.”

    “Ksh, just like always,” Denze shook his head. “You know, there really is no such thing as a ‘lone wolf’. The term is an oxymoron; they always hunt in packs. This is not something you should try to bear all by yourself!”

    Losha pulled out a small pocketbook and threw it at him. He plucked it out of the air with a single swipe and curiously opened it.

    “What is this?” he questioned.

    “A lesson plan, for my absence,” she said, pulling Izel’s reins and turning away.

    “Losha, wait! You cannot just leave like this. Hold on a minute.”

    “Be sure to show that to Mesel as well. I will be back in about two weeks at the latest.”

    “Losha!” Denze cried out, holding up his hand as if to stop her. Nevertheless, with a quick tug of the harness, Losha commanded Izel and sprinted off. Though the low gate was closed, Losha and her steed simply jumped over it. Leaping away, they landed on the plains only to surge forward with speed-steps. In a matter of seconds, the two of them were already racing into far the range. Soon they would be gone entirely.

    “Shrieks!” Denze growled, gripping the pocketbook tightly as he swung his arm to the side. “And she used to call me the impulsive one. Here she just up and changes her mind and flies off to wherever, leaving us all behind...”

    “Sa, Losha has a thing for that, you know, like a trademark” Faima laughed.

    “How can you be so calm right now?” Denze asked. “I feel like we have swapped roles somehow. I am pissed, but you are the one taking it easy. This is serious, you know.”

    “I know,” Faima said, pushing herself off the fence. “This is big, this thing with the Zeroes. I know Losha gave it a lot of meditation; she had all of last night. I trust her judgment. We need not worry about her. Having said that.... I also know the situation will only get more complicated. She does not want to believe it, not right now, but Losha really cannot do everything solo this time. We both agree on that point. As I remember, ever since you felt you missed out on the Sventa-Henron war, you vowed to be there for these kinds of moments, to fight the next battle that came your way. Lucky for you, I got a hunch we are going to get real hot real quick. So, whatever you got planned, Denze, you better get on it.”

    “Damned right I am not going to stand around with something like this,” he said as he started walking off. “If Losha thinks we will kindly sit on our hands, she has no idea how wrong she is. Faima, go tell Mesel about this. I suspect Virel already knows. I will be around for the afternoon lessons, but first there are a few people I need to message.”

    “Hell yeah!” Faima smirked. “Been waiting to see something interesting around here.”



    A day later, as the evening settled, the humidity tapered off, cooling slowly but surely. When darkness came at last, everything was still and silent. Henron did not have many woodlands, but the place Losha now roamed was one of their exceptions. The entire area was widely deserted save for a small lot of people just ahead. Lowly, she stalked about the trees, softly stepping through wet patches of earth. Showers had beset most of the plains in the past week though it looked like the weather would clear up for a while. She’d left Izel behind at the edge of the forest, knowing he’d be fine by himself. For this encounter, she felt it best to move alone and keep her profile as small as possible. In truth, she had no idea where she was heading; she merely followed the seras frequency like a hunter.

    Working her way through some bushes, Losha saw lights in the path ahead. She took care to walk off the main trail while she crept closer and closer. As she had thought earlier, there were sentries posted around here, though not many. By her count, only 11 scattered to and fro, however, they seemed to spread out around a central point, her destination. Analyzing the beams cast from the guards, she saw they were using electric lights, battery powered. With some nostalgia, she recalled how fond the Henron were for adopting new technologies. Still, even their relatively advanced equipment could not totally pierce the night’s veil, so through the abyss Losha maneuvered past the patrol unnoticed.

    It was not long before she saw a greater source of light coming from her target location. A warm glow brightened the woods slightly, highlighting nearby trees and casting shadows. Losha finally approached enough to see a large building coming into view. In Henron fashion, contrary to Sventa’s domes, it was a blocky structure. Three stories tall it stood, judging by the rows of lit windows. The architecture reminded her of the old Henron Court that used to be in Capital City. To her, it seemed to be a manor of some sort, given its size and style. Like the previous court, a bricked wall guarded all sides save for the entrance.

    Two sentries were permanently posted at the front, so she decided to take a look in the back. Working her way around the perimeter, Losha saw no obvious way to access the building, but as she came to the rear, she guessed this would be the best way to infiltrate the place. She leaned one side of her body against the wall, observing the movement of seras frequencies inside. In truth, she’d only been looking for one person in particular, but to her luck, she’d stumbled upon another soul she wanted to meet as well. It was very fortunate if not curious that the two of them were together here in a place so remote.

    There were only four frequencies inside; she doubted the other unknown pair were guards. They kept mingling with her targets. Were they friends, guests, or perhaps staff for the manor? At any rate, they were irrelevant to her; she only needed to know if it was safe enough to scale the wall without being seen. Like in all her other stealth missions she’d accepted as the Wolf of Sventa, she preferred to keep her use of serialization to a minimum, when it was only absolutely required by circumstances. Using her cloaking technique, she could have easily broken into the manor like a ghost, without a trace or alerting anyone. Even so, she refrained. Perhaps Losha feared that too freely using her powers to this end would somehow lead to abuse, so she relied mostly on skill and wit.

    Leaping and grabbing the top of the brick wall, she hauled herself over the edge and dropped down noiselessly. Crouching in the darkness, she moved forward, stooping low to the ground. Sticking close to the wall, the serialist made her way clockwise to the manor’s side. On the first level, one room was completely black and uninhabited. It would prove a fitting entry point. Lightly stepping towards it, Losha examined the window. Its two panes were supposed to swing outward, but tonight they were locked from the inside. A simple kinetic series, however, flipped the latch in her favor. There was no breeze, so opening the window caused no disturbances within the great house.

    She pulled them slowly, mindful that they might creak. Thankfully, they were virtually quiet, thus she slipped in with barely a whisper. Closing things up behind her, she went towards the door. She paused to listen. Her two targets were on the second floor along with a third-party. The fourth occupant was on the third floor; they hadn’t moved in a while, perhaps having gone to bed at this hour already. Gently, she pushed the door open just enough for her to sneak by, then she entered into a dimly lit hallway. Above her, muffled voices conversed with one another. Losha walked carefully, shifting her weight bit-by-bit as her feet advanced. Eventually, the sounds above her became clearer. Stopping once again, she tried to pick up as much of the discussion as she could.

    After several minutes standing there breathlessly, she calculated her next move. Rather than approach her targets right away, she turned around and went down another corridor. At the end of this was a set of closed double doors. Beyond that was a large den replete with its own fireplace. It was all black as she squeezed in, but a mere wave of her hand set the logs on fire. She strolled casually into the center of the room as she looked around. Sa, she thought, they’d simply come to her...



    “I tell you this honestly, Marshal, things only seem to grow more and more uneasy these days,” Prime Lead Liveta Henron sighed as she started walking downstairs.

    “You need not tell me, Liveta,” Tibil said, wiping a hand over his head while the other gripped the railing. “What with external affairs being what they are now, and the morale within the council, these are the most uncertain times we have faced since the war.”

    They reached the first floor, rounding the staircase as they went down a hall. Both were dressed casually and out of their respective uniforms.

    “All these problems at a time when age is in no way kind to either of us,” Liveta shook her head.

    “Perhaps the old man was right, we ought to consider our successors. Sa, at least we could all retire and enjoy ourselves like this,” Tibil laughed.

    “Ksh. I will not stop if that bag of bones is still rattling around,” she smiled.

    “We really should speak more respectfully of him, given what happened. I do hope he is alright, but I guess humor is the only thing that helps in this predicament.” All of sudden, Liveta froze and squinted. “Liveta?” Tibil asked, turning to the Prime Lead.

    “That light up there... It should be dark.” One of the doors to the den was slightly ajar, casting soft, orange rays onto the floor.

    “From the den?” Tibil asked. “We put the fire out earlier. I remember; Marlit doused it completely. So why is it still... Perhaps a guard came in?”

    “For what? No sense in lighting it tonight for warmth. We just used it to make kettle corn. We could have heard any one coming from the front door. Perhaps it is an intruder.”

    A small creak sounded from the den, the indication of someone’s presence. Though she was not on duty, Liveta always carried a sword by her side, even with the dress she wore that night.

    “It is someone there,” Liveta said, lowly, sharply. As soon as she grabbed at her scabbard, she marched straight towards the doors. Though unarmed himself, Tibil walked close behind. Swiftly pushing the door open, the Prime Lead glared left and right.

    “Who goes there?” she demanded as she burst in. Though her eyes ran pointedly in every direction, they eventually settled on a dark figure with its back turned to them. “Identify yourself!” Liveta hissed, grabbing the handle of her blade. Losha titled her head back and blew a cloud of smoke from her lips.

    “Is that how you greet an old ally, Liveta?” she asked, bending forward as she tapped her cigarette against an ashtray.

    “What did she say?” Tibil asked.

    “... Y-you... Is that...” Liveta took a cautious step forward as her face strained with confusion. “Losha?”

    At last, the serialist turned around, gesturing towards them with her smoking hand, smiling slightly.

    “Sa, it has been a while, you two.”

Author's Note

15 years ago, Losha Holvate Sventa fought to bring peace between Sventa and Henron. Though calm has been established between these two major clans, the larger situation has not been resolved. Time has passed, but the Central Plains are still a violent place, seething with anger and hatred. All it takes is a simple scratch, and everything will come rushing to the top. From the shadows, one underground group aims to do just that using the strength of serialization. Now an abandoned hero, Losha must once more rise to save these lands from the destructive power of the art. Yet as the actions of her past confront the Wolf, can she find the will to stand against the one behind it all, her very own son?

The next installment comes March 9, 2016. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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* At this time, Izel is about 21 years old. When Losha met Izel during an operation in Henron territory, Liveta had been raising him for 6 years. He's coming up on the tail-end of his natural lifespan, or at least he should be (~25 years for his breed). Even so, he's still in great shape. Losha is not wrong to attribute this to being so close to serialization. Simply being around powerful serialists like Losha has beneficial effects as others absorb what seras radiates outward (via the seras frequencies).

* Faima is not concerned about Losha's abrupt departure. As she notes, it's something of Losha's signature. She snuck away from her family to fight in the Henron-Sventa war (posing as a Sofos), and she snuck away from her base to repel the Henron invasion of Leitis. Like Virel, Faima knew what Losha would eventually do (or at least they hoped she would follow such a path), so neither is surprised. Faima is relatively calm in this case. Denze, on the other hand, is more than a bit peeved. Once again, he feels like he's going to miss the boat. Contrary to that, he intends to do something about it all. Little does he know just how far everyone will get involved with the Zeroes.

* Remember Liveta and Tibil got promotions (Prime Lead and Marshal of the Henron Council, respectively). Losha and the rest in Talostol have virtually been frozen in time, but for others, how have the years worn on them?

* Liveta and Tibil make references to an "old bag of bones", which relates to a specific character. No spoilers, but you'll be surprised to find out what's happened to a certain familiar face.


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Any feedback is welcome. Just writing because I like it. Always wanted to make a weekly series, so I'm doing it.