Questions and Ambushes

Aelia barely has the door shut behind her when she's startled by a voice in the dark hallway. “So what was that all about?”

“Sebastean! You scared me. What was what?”

In the dark, he's practically invisible, though his metallic irises reflect the tiniest bit of light in an eerie silver pair of glimmers, like inquisitive coins. He opens his cabin door and invites her in, flicking on a floating globe to a dim setting. “You were out there with Evan. Finally went through with it?”

“No.” She finds it annoying the way he reads her, and then simply begins the conversation without even pretending to ask what she's been thinking. It's sort of arrogant.

“You two are so funny. I feel like I'm watching someone trying not to eat a slice of cake for no reason.”

“I've explained my reasons to you, and now to him. There's nothing funny about it, you don't think I'd be with him if I could? This isn't easy.” She sits down as hard as a rail-thin girl can on the edge of his desk, disturbing nothing. He doesn't have many trinkets anyways, she notices. “Especially since we've already basically given in to it.”

“That's sort of my point. And can I just say on behalf of the rest of the crew, meaning me as well, your little hormonal imbalance is getting pretty old. You two are so focused on whether you're 'ready' to get kissing again, that you've pretty largely forgotten we're on the run. This isn't the love boat, kid.”

Her eyes flash angrily at him, but he infuriates her further by just smirking. She doesn't really know how to respond so she just gets angrier. “What does that even mean?”

“It means we're between war zones. For all we know, Nostlack is just another Seraph trap, and we need to be focused on the threat. My vote is you just go crawl into bed with the new guy, so tomorrow when we get there you can maybe have your head on straight.”

“This conversation is over.” And she storms out, leaving a satisfied Sebastean to slide the door shut and switch off the already-dim light.

Morning arrives earlier than usual, finding Evan still awake. Oden's loud voice comes over the Gantrillian's intercom, announcing that they'll be landing on Nostlack island in half an hour, and Evan suddenly realizes he hasn't stood on dirt in a long while... or seen other people.

Other than the four on the boat, of course. But strangers, people who may not know they're coming... might be dangerous. Without really thinking, Evan starts to strap on his leather armor and sword belt.

His door slides open to reveal Kari, who casts a surprised look at his ensemble. “Evan, good, you're up. Planning on killing someone?”

“Wasn't hoping to. What's up?”

“Oden wants you to know to pack light, says we might maybe be leaving sooner than we expect.”

That doesn't sound good. “Trouble?”

“Always a possibility. Seems Sebastean's got it in his head that the whole place could be a trap. Kinda silly but who knows? Anyway Sebastean pretty much makes the calls, so at least for now let's take his advice.”

“Right.”

Kari turns to head outside, but Evan calls her back. “Kari?”

“Yep?”

“I'm not sure how to ask this... does it ever seem... odd, to you, that Sebastean's running this little show? I mean, I thought he was on the run.”

Kari considers Evan for what seems like a long, uncomfortable time. “He isn't running anything. He's just looking out for us. For Halfmoon. Evan there's nothing sinister going on here, if that's what you're thinking.”

“But why? Why the fighting?”

“Look at your front in the mirror and ask why. There are dangerous, crazy-brained people out there, and they're working hard to wreck things for everyone else. So some of us, those of us who can fight, well, we have to.” She looks down the hall, nods at something Evan doesn't see. “You've got that scar over your heart because you stood up for a friend. Nothing more. You didn't hurt anyone. You didn't even insult them. You defended someone you care about and you got cut open for it.”

Evan nods. “I get you.”

“All right then. As I was saying, pack light. See you outside.”

Oden wrestles with the yoke of the Gantrillian, eyes narrowed in concentration. The radio babbles away, growling Pteros accents telling him land here, watch for currents here, someone else is launching there, cut thrust at so many meters, and it's all becoming sort of annoying.

“I can pretty much take it from here, control. Gantrillian out. See you on the ground.” And he flips the radio all the way to “off”.

“That's good, start trouble before we even land.” A laughing voice behind his head.

“Kari, I'm trying to not kill us right this second. Maybe tell me off in a few minutes?”

She drops into the co-pilot's chair and smiles that unique smile of hers. She isn't beautiful, but there's nobody on Fallen, or Earth in his short experience, with a more charmingly cute face. “Well, if I'm a flaming pile of formerly-female, I won't be able to tell you off. I'm taking the initiative.”

“And what if, by some insane chance of fate, we land safely?”

At that moment, Sebastean leans into the control room. “When you two flirt, it makes me nervous. Maybe less death and dismemberment?”

The ship rocks to starboard, one of the drives gives a roar and a whine, and for a moment the entire ship shudders. Oden makes an effort not to look at anyone. “Maybe. We'll see.”

“He's just kidding, Sebastean,” Kari says in a stage whisper. “He hardly ever crashes.”

“Fifty percent is passing, some places,” Oden adds.

Sebastean laughs and turns to leave, then suddenly turns serious. “Before you open any doors, do a scan for powered weapons systems and type R thirty-five sparc drive radiation. I want to know if there are any Seraphs here, and that's the drive their “religious” vehicles use. And leave the engines running.”

“There's such a thing as an innocent Seraph, did you know?”

“All well and good. But I'd rather be sure.”

Oden rolls his eyes. “Just trying to introduce a little optimism.”

There is a deep rumble as the Gantrillian settles to the ground, and everyone shivers as the drive sparc deactivates. It's hard to notice the powerful half-magic machine while it's working, but when the gravity-warping energy field relaxes, going back to normal suddenly feels uncomfortable for a moment.

Aelia ducks in, looking confused. “Door's still closed, Oden. I wouldn't mind getting off this thing.”

“Captain's orders,” Oden mutters, touching the screen to begin a wide-area scan.

“We have a captain now? Good, I can complain to somebody about the awful landing.”

“Hey,” Kari interrupts, “He was distracted. Anyway Sebastean's the one who suggested we follow Paranoia Plan A. Like they'd set up a church or something on a middle-of-nowhere mining island populated entirely by 'infidels'.”

Sebastean growls. “Fine. Screw it. Oden, open the doors. I'm going for a walk.” And he stalks out of the cabin, pulling the small daytime shadows along with him.

Evan barely manages not to get knocked over as Sebastean storms by, owing partly to him being darker than anybody should in a well-lit hallway. “Yeesh. What're you so pissed about?”

Sebastean growls something about “devil-may-care” and keeps walking, seeming to stretch and slide past the barely-opened door. Evan follows, and manages to see a dark flash as Sebastean leaps into the air, suddenly sporting a huge pair of jet black feathered wings. That's something new, Evan thinks with a strange feeling of unease.

When the ramp finishes lowering, he settles a pack on his shoulder and walks out onto the forest floor of Nostlack island. Looking around in wonder, always surprised at the beauty of the young world of Fallen, he doesn't notice everyone else following him out of the boat.

The trees here are very similar to those of his homeland on Earth, tall and thick, with rough bark and millions of fan-like leaves, but they're shot through with centimeter-wide mineral deposits. Glittering arteries weave around the trunks, and the veins of every leaf sparkle with a metallic glint.

The ground is oddly neat, as well, with nothing but lush blue grass under the trees, growing right up to the trunks. No twigs, leaves, or small plants litter the area, and as far as Evan can see the rest of the forest is as uniformly orderly.

Kari is the first to say anything. “This is sort of creepy.” Everyone mumbles agreements. The strange unnaturalness of the nature here is especially odd to Evan, who is used to the jungle-like mess of undergrowth in the woods of New England.

“It's science at work,” calls a growling voice from somewhere behind them, causing the whole group to spin in surprise, Evan reaching for his sword before he realizes the speaker is a middle-aged Pteros in a baggy jumpsuit. “They're Forge Trees. One of my inventions. Welcome to Nostlack, young ones.”

He turns his slanted green eyes on Evan. “You come dressed for battle, child? There's no need of that. We're a peaceful place, and well defended besides.”

Evan looks sheepishly away at nothing in particular. “We've had a nervous sort of month. Sorry.”

“We understand you've had some trouble with the Priesthood. Life here was supposed to be new and different, yet some seem determined to bring us all back to archaic misery. Come, there is room for you. Rest and be at ease.” The Pteros man motions to them to follow. “My name is Lopho, I'm in charge of marketing our products. Also greeting visitors.”

Oden speaks up as they start walking down a path through the woods. “One of us isn't here right now. Will he be able to find us?”

“You must mean your airborne friend. Yes, it's hard to miss our town, he'll spot it from the air. In fact,” Lopho peers up to the clear sky, looking around for black wings, “I don't see anything so perhaps he's already there.”

The group continues for a few more minutes before buildings start appearing through the trees, Lopho entertaining them by explaining his unusual forest. “The Forge Forest is a project I've been working on for several years now, and the results are very nearly what I originally designed.”

“What are they for?” Kari asks, eyes drawn to the sparkling branches, to the point where she occasionally stumbles for lack of concentration. “Other than being pretty?”

“Metalworking. As you may have noticed, there are several varieties of ore in my trees. The root system is able to select a mineral and use it for nourishment and support, and as a result the healthy wood is marbled with pure deposits of metal. The symbiosis is perfect; in most trees or organic lifeforms, that amount of pure metal would be fatal.

“But as for purpose, if you're familiar with blacksmithing you know how crucial the smelting process is. Part of that includes cooking the ore in charcoal in such a way that the coal binds chemically with the metal, strengthening it vastly. I'm sure it's obvious where this is going.”

Oden is the first to reply. “So you can just torch the whole tree and cook your metal at the same time!”

Lopho smiles with satisfaction. “Interestingly put. Yes, we can simply place the entire tree into a special oven and with minimal effort, we're left with a perfectly smelted large amount of metal. The wood becomes coal, which cooks the ore. Very efficient.”

They emerge from the edge of the metal woods, and Evan has his first good look at a Pteros settlement. His immediate reaction is of intense claustrophobia, as every building seems to be low to the ground, stone, and compact. Few windows are visible, and those that show are little more than slits. “Cozy digs.”

“It is for us. A Pteros will suffer hypothermia at relatively reasonable temperatures while sleeping, so all of our structures are insulated and climate-controlled.”

Aelia seems satisfied, and nods with an appeasing smile. “If you don't mind, we'd like to rest awhile. It's good to stand on the ground again but I'm afraid I've still got my sky legs.”

“Naturally. I don't know how people stay up there so long without going insane. You've been allotted those three houses over there. I know humans prefer to have their own space but I'm afraid it's all we have to spare. You are not, in fact, our only refugees this week.”

“I've got no problem staying with Oden. In fact,” Kari pipes up, “Why don't we go get moved in, fire guy?”

“I refuse to accept that nickname, but okay. Aelia, if Sebastean turns up and he's not too surly, tell him I've got the boat locked down and the engines are pass coded. Might make him feel better.”

“Why don't you tell him, 'fire guy'?” Aelia jokes, to which Oden mutters something about “busy,” and lets Kari lead him away by the hand. They seem to be in a hurry, without trying to look like they're hurrying.

Lopho watches them go with a knowing smirk. “It's good to know people aren't completely depressed over recent events. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I'm good,” Evan says, eager to explore the area by himself, just to see something that isn't seawater full of monsters. “Is there like a curfew or anything?”

Lopho and Aelia just look at him. “Not exactly. It does get a little cold at night, here, but other than that there's no reason you shouldn't do as you please.”

Aelia hesitates, then speaks quietly. “Would it be a problem if I took your stuff with me? I'll get us unpacked.” Lopho heads off, waving to a Pteros covered in soot emerging from a building.

“Go ahead.” He hands over his pack and thanks Lopho, then wanders into the forest, eager to examine the peculiar island on his own.

Sebastean lands heavily, wings dissolving into wisps of shadow behind him before he touches the ground. He's always enjoyed the sensation of flight, but most places it would only draw unwanted attention.

He supposes he could just alter himself to look like an ordinary Seraph, but some part of his pride resists it. Hiding isn't his thing, other than living in the relative remoteness of Halfmoon. And no self-respecting person would pretend to be something other than what they are.

That's what his mother always said, anyway. Before her own people murdered her.

Ironically, it's as he dwells on that thought that a Seraphic warrior-priest leaps from the treeline and hurls a wide-bladed spear at him, crying out “Abomination!”

Sebastean's eyes flash with black light, a disorienting spectacle, and with a snarl he catches the spear out of the air by the very end of the shaft, spins in place, and hurls it overhead with blinding speed back at the attacker.

The warrior is impaled and crumples to the ground; before his wings finish collapsing, a dozen more armored Seraphs charge Sebastean from every direction; front, rear, sides, the sky, every angle is filled with flapping wings and religiously-inspired curses. Sebastean, damning himself for not completing his search before leaving the Gantrillian, roars and commits himself to battle.

It's over before very long, however. Despite three more warriors falling to tendrils and bolts of solid darkness, and one's head being twisted nearly off by powerful arms, Sebastean is overwhelmed by nothing more than numbers and the electrical shocks of the Seraphic's capture-sticks.

His shadows flicker and die, retreating back the the corners from where he pulled them, and a cheer goes up as his unconscious form is bound with chains.

The surviving soldiers carry him into the night.