Chapter Fifteen: A Bullet in the Sky

Chapter Fifteen

A BULLET IN THE SKY

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“War does not determine who is right, it determines who’s left.”

– Bertrand Russell

~*~

Ralencia

Orenthium

9:42am Local Time

Ember tensed as the airship passed overhead like some lazy, airborne leviathan.

“Easy,” Liv murmured, patting her neck as she traced its descending path toward the city.

Despite having seen one before, the behemoth didn’t seem real, somehow. Its sleek, silver exterior glinted in the morning light, making it appear as though for all its effort, it didn’t quite belong. It was too large, too alien, for her mind to wholly reconcile. In her gawking, she’d at least had the presence of mind to keep her mouth shut.

“Have you ever flown in one of those before?” She asked Kaedric.

She could have sworn she saw him shudder.

“In what, an aerostat? No. I’m perfectly content here on the ground,” he said.

“You’re telling me that in all your two-hundred odd years, you’ve never wondered what the world might look like from above?”

“I have,” he admitted, “But when I’m looking for a height advantage, I climb a mountain, not into a glorified balloon.”

“For the same reason you have tile instead of hardwood floors?” She guessed.

Muttering something noncommittal, he cast his glance elsewhere, so she supposed she had her answer. She smiled to herself, finding his earthbound quirks rather endearing. She knew plenty of people who were afraid of flying for one reason or another, but none who bore a natural aversion to their opposing element.

“Is that what you call them, then?” She asked, “Aerostats?”

“I’m sure some have more specialized names, but overall, yes. Do you have them where you come from as well?”

“Historically, yes, but I’ve never seen one myself prior to arriving here. Airplanes are far more common. Comparatively, they’re more like giant metal birds,” she said.

“They sound equally dreadful.”

“I’ve never actually flown in one,” she sighed, “I’m not sure I’ll ever have the chance now, but I wouldn’t mind hopping on one of those fancy silver bullets of yours. Do you know if they’re open to the public?”

“Some are, but that one there belongs to the Magisterium. You can see the insignia on the tailfin,” he said.

Liv squinted, the angle of the light making it difficult to see much of anything. However, she was eventually able to make out the golden, eight-pointed star emblazoned along the lower fin. It had been painted black to highlight the symbol, though whether it was one of the official colors of the faction, she wasn’t sure.

“Does that mean someone important is in town?” She asked.

Kaedric shrugged, “They can be anyone from a priest to a scholar. Whatever their business is, rest assured, it doesn’t involve us.”

Even so, she allowed her thoughts to wonder as she watched the ship descend into the city. Eventually it disappeared beneath the skyline, leaving her to admire the sprawling scape undistracted. There were, in fact, tall stone buildings as Kaedric had said. Their many towers jutted up into the clear sky like jagged teeth, overshadowing trees and streets alike with their bright facades. Many were topped with domes of bright blue shingling or angled glass, adding a level of ornamentation that drew the eye skyward.

At the heart of the city, situated upon a lush hill, was a rounded cathedral of pure white stone. The roof appeared to be a complex arrangement of glass worked into the shape of what might have been a giant lotus blossom. Eight equally spaced towers joined the main body of the structure, though only rose to half the height of its grand crown. How they had managed to build such a thing was beyond her and for a time, all she could do was stare.

Kaedric must have noticed, for he said, “That temple guards the spiritstone.”

“You’re kidding me? That thing has to be huge!” She breathed.

He chuckled, “The stone isn’t what takes up all that space. It’s the pool surrounding it.”

“All of it?” She asked in disbelief?”

“Around three quarters of it, from what I remember.”

“That has to be one hell of a pool.”

“It had to be,” he said.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Liv arched an eyebrow in his direction, “Care to elaborate for those of us who, when actually compared to you, were practically born yesterday?”

“That’s a bit of a story,” he warned.

“We still have time before we reach the walls,” she said, “Besides, this seems like one of those things I should know if I don’t want to make a fool out of myself in public.”

“It would help,” he agreed, then sighed through his nose, “Remember how I told you a person’s body travels to the nearest stone to resurge?”

She nodded.

“A few weeks into the civil war, opposing sides started using that to their advantage. Fallen troops would often emerge within enemy territory during engagements. More often than not, they were captured, but those of higher order, even while unarmed and naked, were far more difficult to deal with. One general, in particular, realized the potential in this and started implementing a new strategy. He would have a number of his highest order troops sacrifice themselves in small bands close enough to an enemy stone to resurge, then launch their ambush from within,” he said.

Kaedric had mentioned the war before in passing, but had never gone into any real detail. All Liv knew was that it had been called the Red Decade and had broken out in the early days following the surgence. She was fairly certain he hadn’t been involved in the fighting, but truth be told, she’d never had the stomach to ask.

“Cities started falling in days,” he continued, “And each time the general took one, he ensured the same tactic could never be used against him. He culled the stones of smaller population centers, thus restricting any and all resurgences to the cities. When someone resurges, they appear somewhere within a twenty-five meter radius of a spiritstone. To ensure a proper zone of control, he doubled the radius, then had either captured soldiers or his own geolite troops construct giant, circular pits several hundred feet deep around the stone. The central pillar supporting the stone was reinforced, and the surrounding space was filled with enough water to deprive anyone who emerged at the stone of a means of escape. They’d tread water until they eventually drowned. Then, they’d resurge and start the entire process over again. And that was if they weren’t shot on sight.”

For a moment, Liv was at a loss for words. Suddenly, she saw the hill the temple rested upon in a dreadful new light. How many people had died there?

“That’s terrible,” she said.

“Terrible,” Kaedric agreed, “But as effective as it was efficient. The number of soldiers it took to maintain were minimal and they didn’t even have to be among his elite. Anyone with a decent aim would do.

“What would happen if his own troops were caught in the pits? Or civilians?”

“From what I’ve heard, they usually had a Type I with a selected truth skill on hand to determine friend from foe. Any lingering enemy troops would be shot and the ally would be fished out with a rope ladder. Both mentite and somalite cores have access to a similar skill, but the latter tend to be more effective on the field,” he said.

“What’s the difference between the two?” She asked, confused.

“Mentite represents the mind while somalite represents the body,” he said, “Those with mentite cores were typically spies. Only one of a high enough order was effective enough to have on the field due to the number of minds they could influence at once. Somalite cores, on the other hand, are dangerous at almost every order.”

“I guess I can see why he didn’t want his super soldiers sitting around all day conducting interviews,” she muttered.

“Rhoran Blackthorn was not a man to waste a potential resource,” Kaedric agreed.

“Did they ever let the enemy troops go? When the war ended, I mean?”

She couldn’t imagine people still dying on repeat all these decades later.

“Eventually,” he said, “But by that point, the damage had already been done. Your body may heal on death, but the mind is rarely so lucky after so many resurgences. Most of them reached a point where they became utterly unresponsive.”

“All of them?” She asked, wide-eyed.

Kaedric’s lips had grown thin, “Most. The condition was not limited to any one side, either. His own troops suffered the same fate, many of whom belonged to the elite who had won the war for him in the first place. If someone dies enough times, they eventually reach a similar state. Some go mad, but the exact number of deaths appears to be different for everyone.”

Liv dared to ask, “If people can’t truly die, what happens when they become unresponsive?”

“They continue the cycle,” he said quietly, “Somewhere out of sight and out of mind.”

She suddenly found it hard to swallow past the dryness in her throat. In a way, her mortality seemed like a mercy. To lose herself in such a way was unthinkable.

Liv avoided looking at the temple for the remainder of their ride. Instead, she chose to watch the people and the steady encroachment of the walls. Activity had steadily increased since they’d emerged from the valley some time ago, but the bustle didn’t truly begin until they were far closer. There were carts brimming with cargo, carriages, even streetside vendors peddling produce, livestock or other assorted goods. In a world of immortals, it appeared people still needed to make a living in some form or fashion.

The metal doors to the grand gate appeared as heavy as they were ornate. From what she could tell, there wasn’t so much as a single spot of rust either, which, if they were relics from the war, was impressive in its own right. Whomever maintained them deserved a raise, as far as she was concerned.

“Where is this general Blackthorn today?” She wondered.

Kaedric passed her a look that suggested she keep her voice down even as he murmured, “He disappeared a few years before the reformation under the Magisterium.”

“Good riddance,” she mumbled.

“How are your bruises doing?” He asked, pointedly changing the subject.

“About as well as my knees,” she said.

“We’re still a ways from the shops I have in mind in the second district, but it shouldn’t be too long now. You’ll have the rest of the day to stretch your legs.”

Liv nearly groaned, “Thank goodness. What about these mysterious buyers of yours? Are they also in the second district?”

“Not exactly,” he admitted, “But I intend to visit them alone.”

“What? Why?”

“Because they’re dangerous people, Miss Lockard. Trust me, it’s best not to involve yourself. You’ll have your funds, I promise.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, torn between arguing further and simply following his lead. What if he just took the money and ran? She inwardly cursed herself the moment the thought arose. They were here for her benefit, not his. His actions thus far had made that abundantly clear. Kaedric had had any number of opportunities to take advantage of her, yet he hadn’t. He was a good man that had proved himself more than worthy of a little trust.

So, she’d give it to him.

“Fine. What am I supposed to do in the meantime, though?” She asked.

“We’ll be checking into the Wealthfire Inn before we do anything. The horses need rest and a good rubdown at the stable. I assumed you’d be hungry, so I planned on leaving you in the commons until I return. There are plenty of other places within walking distance, if you’d prefer something else, but having you stay in one place would be best,” he said, “Selling the arcana shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.”

While she wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea of being left alone in a city full of strangers, she could occupy herself over a meal if she needed. It wasn’t as though there was much else she could do without any funds to speak of. And, if she were honest, she was more than a little hungry.

“They’re not going to serve me anything weird, are they? Like giant lizard or something?” She asked.

“They’ll serve you whatever you choose from the menu,” he drawled.