V13: Chapter 1

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  Interlude: She Who Runs Red With Promise

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  I wiped my knives clean, while the rest of the circle filled with my fellow honored priestesses. They were each given one of the few animals we managed to capture from the promised land. They were undisciplined creatures who pretended to think and understand the sounds they made with their mouths. Since history began, the promised land whispered of in our order had been barred by storm walls. We were cast out, torn down, and enfeebled for our weakness, but now the gates opened, and we were challenged to retake our glory.

  Most did not believe.

  Most thought that we were complete and perfect and that we needed only fear the others who claimed mastery over the world, but such was not the truth.

  In these frontier lands, where people did not have enough, we were supported. They allowed us to build our cloisters, and in them we trained, we passed down knowledge, and spread the holy word. The holy land was to be filled with danger and beasts who would oppose us, as well as many challenges that would destroy us if we were found wanting.

  We worked with a general who was disgraced into pseudo-exile. Many of my sisters now served him as concubines to sate his lust, but such was their duty. They whispered into his ear, scouts were sent, and we found a land rich with industrious beasts without masters making use of our legacy. The great white spires, eight in number, which were the crown of the true ruler of the world… were all risen and held by beasts.

  We spread the word, and the faithful came from every corner of the great realm.

  A holy reclamation of our place in the world was set to begin.

  Then, the general’s agents disappeared.

  Then, the vanguard he sent to seize a foothold was broken by thunder from the skies, the wrath of entire mountains, and legendary, primal beasts came upon him.

  It was only thanks to our efforts to soothe his superiors that he remained with us, and now he was a devout believer.

  So, we moved with greater care, sending no more shepherds, and instead sought to understand the beasts who have lived unfettered for many generations pretending to be people.

  The circle was soon filled with my fellows, and I raised my hand to them in greeting.

  She Whose Words Were Honey spoke first.

  “Two bestial kingdoms have arisen. Each one allied with the other and each with four of the sacred towers. They now move to lick their wounds and prepare for the world to descend upon them.” I grimaced at her words. The unfettered, primal nature of the beasts in the holy land led them to emulate us, the true people, and they were surrounded by ancient ruins and gifts. Unlike our subservient and domesticated flocks, they were closer to us than I cared to admit. With time they may become a people all their own, and subsume us if they were permitted, if we did not retake our destiny. “It is my belief that the faithful must move to seize one of the sacred towers before the flood comes.”

  She Whose Claws Were Swift agreed with a nod.

  “The beast I tended to spoke of Citadel Guardians. The living flensing blades under control of those who hold sway over the sacred towers. They are produced by the hundred every day and wait the command of their King of Wisdom.” I stirred at that word. The King of Wisdom. A single beast of the most common cattle. A child born with great intellect, but without any inherent strength. He gathered and acted against stronger bestial tribes and brought them under his control. All the creatures we extracted were in his land, and they spoke of him with reverence. “They are preparing vast armies of monsters armed with weapons derived from ancient devices as we speak. The flood will wash away all, while a bulwark of beasts will man the mountains.”

  It was my belief that the King of Wisdom was one of our own. A prince of an esteemed lineage who somehow reached the sacred lands and now sought to secure it for himself. His ability to guide the beasts and take so much land in a mere two decades was explained if he were one of us and with access to the sacred tower. And, since he controlled so many, why would he not aspire to rule over people instead of just beasts?

  If the storm walls fell in another two decades, I was sure that he would lead the beasts to conquer the world in its entirety and crown himself ruler of the sphere in its entirety.

  All men of merit would do such a thing after all.

  As my thoughts ended, I noticed that there was silence in the circle; thus, I spoke.

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  “We must strike with the faithful and all the support that we can muster while spreading the word to all that would listen. It is a time of great troubles, and war looms with other nations, but we must seize our destiny before all is engulfed by the tide.” I had few supporters, but many would heed my words. I owed my sisters little and did much for them. My efforts waylaid many attempts on all their lives, and I fought as a soldier and even became an officer for a time. The land I earned with my service became the cloister we now stood upon today. “I volunteer to follow the next expedition. Even if it is brought low, I will do my utmost to see what lies beyond and return here with news.”

  My influence meant that my friends that would allow me to go knowing that it was the path that I wished to tread, while my enemies would be glad to see me go and risk my life.

  The assent of the circle gave me all that I needed to move with the next expedition.

  After that, they spoke of spreading the word, harnessing more believers to our cause, and perhaps bringing more nobles to our side.

  But my path was already set.

  I go now to the promised land and I will see if I can survive the trials placed by our ancestors between us and destiny.

  …

  Fire and thunder smashed through our procession mercilessly and unceasingly.

  The night sky was gone, replaced by floating orbs of shimmering light; the gambit to march through the night dispelled in an instant before we were fired upon.

  Shields created by shamans were torn apart by lightning bolts followed by the boom of thunder. Glittering metal shapes fell from the sky and broke apart after the lightning within ceased to be held. Shamans and those under their protection died as thunder and lightning smashed through the entire expedition.

  “To me! To me!” The general, He Who Rides To Dawn, stood at the vanguard, and his shield did not break. He was a potent master of mystical energies and a grand warrior besides. His retinue was filled with potent shamans and esteemed warriors. The chattel he took were dead, their lives already used to empower his ritual, but the effects were obvious. A fortress wall that the lightning could not breach formed. “Bring the cattle here, now!”

  The shimmering wall began to take more blows, but it held as wagons were brought forward and the lives of animals were offered up to protect us. Some tenders and keepers cried as they gave their family’s prized beast, especially as so many flocks perished over the last year due to a new plague, but it was necessary. The faithful brought all that they could with them to this journey, and now it was all to be put to the test.

  I thought that the barrage would cease as the lights dimmed, but there were several ‘thumps’ and more lights came forth and the barrage continued.

  I made my choice then.

  Gathering strength and power, I clambered up the nearest mountainside and took hold of my coat. It was composed of the flesh of a beast that took on different hues. With my will guiding it, the stripped hide took on the mottled complexion of the rocks, and I watched as the battle unfolded from high above.

  Flashes of light were coming from the distance from the mountain tops and at the end of the long valley. After a flash, there was an explosion, then the sound of thunder. I realized then that they were weapons and manned by beasts, and we erred in attacking at night as fear coursed through the whole of the crusade as they thought a rainless storm was punishing them.

  Still, I had some faint hope as the barrier held and the army began to advance.

  Then, suddenly, something changed.

  I thought that the mountains would collapse and kill the general, but several wise elders postulated that those were avalanches, so we had moved during spring to arrive in summer. There was no snow now, and so the next attack was not an immense snowslide.

  It was a sound like the ticking of a clock, but magnified a hundredfold and replicated a hundred times over. That was when I noticed the front of the barrier was bristling with contact. The flying knives mentioned by previous reports were now attacking. A swarm of speeding metal that flowed forth without hesitation and fear. The barrier was holding, but some at the edges were caught. They screamed as limbs were torn off in an instant or fell back gurgling their last breaths as holes were carved through their bodies and spilled their blood across the stones.

  This was a trial. A challenge to reclaim our heritage.

  I knew that was the truth, yet my heart wavered at the sight of so many of my fellow faithful dying alongside soldiers dedicated to our cause.

  Still, the general marched forward, and I prayed for his victory as we drew nearer and nearer.

  Then, suddenly, with the next push, the ground beneath him came apart with great force and lightning.

  He screamed and roared as he withstood the attack. His leg was shredded along with much of his lower half, and he held the barrier up through the pain and torment as he was tended to. The advance stopped as another two shamans suddenly came apart due to fire and fury. They died, as they were not as strong as him, and he held the burden of the barrier by himself.

  “Get up. Move.” A voice resounded, and I didn’t realize it was my own urging the general to keep going. I forced my heart to grow calm and covered my mouth. When I felt the urge to keep looking, I chose instead to climb the mountain and find another passage on the other side. As insane as it seemed to climb to the other side, I saw no other choice.

  If I continued to watch, then I would die helping them.

  I climbed and climbed as the howl and chatter of ancient weapons surged forth, but I stopped as another sound came forth.

  Buzzing and a keening wail.

  But not at the end of the valley or on the sides of the mountains.

  Nearly where I was, just below the floating, small suns that cast light upon the valley.

  I turned to the sound as it approached, and my heart grew still as eight mechanical beasts surged out of the darkness into the light.

  Flying chariots. The greatest weapons of the ancestors. They were here.

  The eight flying machines pointed their noses down and from their wings came forth glittering golden beams that smashed through the defense.

  Moments later those beams began to burn and melt rock, evaporating flesh where they passed, and the machines disappeared for just a moment.

  Then, with the same buzzing and keen wail return, and in just another moment more golden rays ravaged the routing crusade.

  As they retreated, the sound of distant guns continued to resound, and I could not help but liken them to laughter.

  The laughter of those who tested us and found us utterly wanting.