CHAPTER 13

“A Higher Calling”

June 26th, 2040: Alfonso City Capital, The Autoriario Empire

Every night it was the same. The same damn nightmare over and over again. Running to the balcony, Emperor Alfonso watched in horror as his beloved capital burned, the screams of the damned, trapped in the burning buildings, tearing at his heart. As always, a low rumble from above made him stare up through the smoke-filled sky. Dozens of black dots flew high above, higher than any wyvern or dragon could go. Then came the noise he dreaded the most, the whistle of death. As every time before, he ran from the balcony and deep into his palace, explosions all around causing him to trip and fall. He looked up as a huge chunk of stone from the roof arch broke away. A moment before being crushed, he woke abruptly, dripping in sweat and breathing like he had just run a marathon.

“Is something the matter?” Empress Soria asked, still half asleep.

“The visions. They have gotten worse.” He took a moment to calm himself and looked out of the window to see it was still night. No longer feeling safe to sleep, Alfonso left his chambers still dressed in his night attire, but there were more pressing matters than people seeing him in a purple night robe. He walked down the glorious smooth stone and precious metal-lined hallway towards his study. At its entrance, he glared at the two guards stationed on opposite sides of the door.

“Guards! Bring me Archmage Itla immediately!” He ordered, and they responded at once. Stepping inside his study, Alfonso sat down at his desk and was soon immersed in the books strewn across it; all of them concerning history and some even predating The Empire itself. ‘Antiqua Historia de gentibus veteris’ was undeniably the oldest book, Alfonso having to use two flat metal batons to flip the aged pages so as to not damage them with his hands. However, it had answered the most questions by far compared to the other books. With great care, Alfonso turned to a page showing a diagram of something called a ‘Repetitio ferrum arcum’. It depicted an odd-looking weapon. A long metal pipe with a rectangular piece of wood at the rear. Near the back, there was also a rope with one end attached to the weapon itself and the other hanging free, smoldering and giving off sparks. At the top of the diagram was a small note written in dark, faded red lettering.

“Telum deum deum quod bellum in astralis planum. Capax penetrabile durior metallis implevit etiam fortissimi cum timore. Telum superat se.”

“A weapon capable of overpowering one another, fascinating.” Alfonso murmured.

It didn't take long for Alfonso to get lost in the book’s pages only to be startled by a decrepit old man wearing a celestial pattern cloak, with a matching wizard hat to boot, stepping into his study.

“Your excellency, you called?” The old man bowed. His long staff, adorned with a purple gem glowing in supremacy.

“Yes Itla. The visions. They’ve gotten worse, I can now hear the screams of my people inside the city as it burns--not long after the death whistle fills the air. Every time I try to run deep into the palace for safety, only to be crushed or killed by an explosion caused by some unseen force.” Alfonso crossed his arms and held himself, clearly distressed by the experience.

“Hmm. These visions have been occurring for fourteen days now. It seems to me that our God is warning you of a disaster that is soon to come. I suggest that you head to the cathedral and seek to speak with our Lord. Though he speaks little, it may help guide you, your excellency.”

“Yes, you might be correct. Let's not waste time then!” With great care, Alfonso closed the book but as he darted from his chair and towards the door, Itla stopped him.

“Forgive me your excellency, but the sun has not yet risen. Your questions will have to wait.” Itla watched as the Emperor sighed before going back to his desk. Leaning back in the red-clothed chair, he examined the continent map above the doorway. The glorious empire at its center with all manner of empires, kingdoms, republics and city-states encircling it, even some of those nations with others around them; especially to the south where it was believed to lead into another land of riches waiting to be acquired, if it wasn't for the damn forest filled with elves and other beastmen, his forefathers would be there already.

Once the sun eventually rose, Alfonso went off to ready himself while Itla prepared a carriage for them. Ordering a quick washdown of himself, Alfonso then entered his expansive wardrobe, flanked by servants.

“A piece fit to be seen before the one true god…ah this one!” Pointing to a white robe adorned with gold trim. A servant pulled it out and hastily dressed him. Then, standing in front of the full-length mirror, he ran his hands through his short brown hair to flatten it.

Once dressed, Alfonso made his way outside towards the palace entrance where Itla was waiting with the carriage and escort.

“Driver! Take me to the cathedral!” Alfonso ordered. The driver simply nodded. Inside the carriage, the Emperor and Itla again began discussing the visions.

“Do you remember seeing anything more?” Itla questioned, as the Emperor recoiled from the mere thought of the nightmare.

“Yes. High across the sky, higher than any dragon knight or wyvern rider could go, black dots were moving in a completely straight line, and there were dozens of them. It is my belief that they are the cause of the death whistle.” Alfonso watched as Itla became pensive.

“Hmm…you may be correct. But I think that with the kind of magic needed to---” Itla was cut off when Alfonso raised a hand.

“There was no origin of casting. For an explosion that large and to complete so many, the casting point would have to be complex, not forgetting that it would take a long time to charge. This was near-instant.”

“You are correct, your excellency, my apologies. If it was not magic then…what was it?” Itla trailed off, trying to find an answer.

“I don’t know. But we will soon have answers.” Alfonso brushed aside the curtain to look outside at the cobblestone street.

The Emperor's carriage and escorts made their way through the winding city streets, the citizens around them staring curiously as the Emperor rarely left his palace. Upon reaching the towering cathedral, Alfonso and Itla made their way inside, flanked by nearly a dozen royal guards. Inside, Alfonso’s pride flared as he strained his neck to look up at the dozens of crystal chandeliers that hung from the stone arches. The grand structure becoming even more impressive as each footstep echoed around the building.

“To think this was started at the beginning of my house's legacy and only finished when my father took the throne. Many lives were spent to complete it, and every single life was worth it--don’t you agree?” Alfonso turned to Itla who smiled.

“Of course your Excellency.”

The duo continued down the main hall of the cathedral towards the altar, where the High Priest was intoning a prayer.

“Father Sacerdos.” Alfonso gave a shallow bow.

“Emperor, I am honored to see you here.” Sacerdos returned the bow. “Please tell me, what is it you seek?” The High Priest questioned.

“I have come here to see our God. I am troubled on a matter and I require his guidance.” Alfonso watched as Father Sacerdos slowly nodded then turned around.

“Come, we shall start the ritual right away.” And so Alfonso and Itla followed.

The three made their way down below the cathedral's main hall and into a labyrinth of stone tunnels. After a while of following Father Sacerdos with a light orb in hand, they reached a room containing another wooden altar draped in red cloth with two candles on either side. At the center of the room was a pentagram drawn with golden yellow chalk. All was encircled by silver runes.

“Please sit in the center, Emperor, I shall return shortly with our offerings.” Father Sacerdos disappeared down a different tunnel. Placing himself at the center, Alfonso could already feel a connection to something while being inside the circle.

The sound of clattering chains announced the return of Father Sacerdos together with two guards dressed in chainmail and full metal helmets who were dragging two demi-humans, both of whom were severely beaten and malnourished. One with cat traits and the other, a male, with what appeared to be buffalo horns.

“We shall commence the ritual to speak to the One True God.” Father Sacerdos announced, giving the signal for the guards to drag the sacrifices to their places on the left and right side of Alfonso, at the pentagram's star points.

“No! No please! I’ll do anything, don't kill me please!” The female demi-human cried, tears flowing.

“Silence you belligerent creature! You should be honored to be a sacrifice to our God!” Father Sacerdos spread his arms out wide. “Not everyone gets to be a gift to him!”

Once they were placed on either side, the pentagram shone a bright crimson red and the guards immediately backed away, leaving the two sacrifices on the pentagram points. Seizing the moment, the male tried to run but a dark chain with a pointed triangle blade at the end shot out from the pentagram and impaled him in the chest. Father Sacerdos began chanting in a cryptic language, causing the pentagram and runes surrounding it to glow further; after which a white vapor began to be sucked from the two sacrifices. Just as the female was about to scream from the sheer pain, Alfonso closed his eyes and everything went quiet.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in a white void, sitting on an infinite plane. Hearing movement behind he turned to see a circular gazebo and a lone man playing chess.

“Come, Emperor Alfonso, play a game with me. One can only play against themselves for so long before it becomes tedious.” The man stated. Alfonso didn't dare argue or even speak. Stepping inside the gazebo and sitting down at the table, he blinked once as the chessboard reset to the beginning positions.

“Now, why do you seek me?” The man asked.

“The visions you have sent me. I have come to ask what they mean, my lord.” Alfonso replied, his tone much softer than usual.

“Visions? Ah, I know what you're talking about!” The man smiled. “Unfortunately I cannot say much. What I can say to soothe your mind - it is not magic.” The man stated, leaving Alfonso completely lost.

“I-I’m sorry Supreme One but…I do not understand.” Hearing this, the man sighed.

“Of course you don't. Those ‘black dots’ you saw, are creations of mankind, not of the divine.” He clarified, but it helped little in calming Alfonso.

“But…who could create such things?” Alfonso continued to question.

“Well spelling it out would remove half the fun, would it not? All I will say is… someone made a mistake.” The man's voice went cold and chilled Alfonso’s spine. “Now enough talk, let us enjoy the game.” The man gestured to the chessboard.

And so the strange man and Alfonso played a match of chess. Of course, either by the choice of Alfonso or merely superior skill, the supposed god won.

“And that, would be checkmate. Thank you for playing with me.” The man smiled.

“Please my Lord, I am honored to have served you well.” Alfonso bowed, looking back up to see the man staring off into the white void.

“It appears our time together has reached its end. A word of advice before you depart. There is always a bigger fish.” Once again, the man's voice went cold.

Blinking again, Alfonso found himself back on the mortal plane. The sacrificial slaves now shriveled corpses, their energy drained. Father Sacerdos and Itla were waiting by the altar.

“I hope you found what you were looking for?” Father Sacerdos gave a shallow bow.

“Yes…yes I believe I did, thank you Father. Itla, we must head back to the palace at once.”

In haste, the two returned to the carriage. Ordering the driver to do his job, they began brainstorming again.

“Someone made a mistake…what do you mean by that?” Alfonso muttered to himself but still caught the attention of Itla.

“Your excellency?” he questioned.

“Hm? Oh nothing, just thinking about something our Lord said to me. Did you find out anything while I was gone?” Alfonso asked.

“Very little I’m afraid. I asked Father Sacerdos about the visions. He didn’t have an answer but he did say there have been strange reports to the west. Something about the landing of a steel fleet numbering over forty vessels. There have also been scattered reports of fighting by an unknown force, explosions from the sky, strange weaponry and tactics. I don’t doubt for a second that some of this is connected to your visions, your excellency.”

“Hm. So it would seem…” Alfonso's mind began turning with even more questions.

Once Back At The Palace…

Filled with urgency, Alfonso and Itla walked briskly towards the study. Once inside Alfonso ordered the guards away and then shifted his gaze around the room.

“Shadow, report!” He barked, and a figure emerged from the support beams above, dressed in a black robe that seemed to eat the light from the room.

“You called, your excellency?” The man bowed.

“What is the report from the missionaries to Ruppriecht?” He questioned.

“Your excellency. I have unfortunate news. Twelve of the twenty missionaries have perished and, even more disappointingly, they failed to complete their task.” The Shadow reported.

“And what caused them to fail?” Annoyance filled Alfonso's voice.

“They say a group of strange people unexpectedly showed up. A leader among them called ‘Ambassador Aaron’ seemed keen on meeting with the royal family and discussing a wide range of topics with them.”

“And where does this, ‘Ambassador’, hail from?” Alfonso demanded.

“According to the surviving missionaries, a place across The Great Ocean to the far west called The United States Of America. From what little information I’ve been able to gather, they are new to this land and are in dire need of resources for their homeland. Why? I do not know. However, the grave concern is their mysterious weaponry.” The Shadow stated, causing both Alfonso’s and Itla’s eyes to widen. “Repeating iron crossbows of such advancements that I am led to believe even the dwarfs do not have such weapons. They also possessed the ability to cause an explosion at a moment's notice--seemingly on demand, your excellency.” Hearing this, both Alfonso and Itla took a step back in complete shock. Were these the people in his visions? The Shadow continued. “Your excellency. I must advise you to use extreme caution around these outsiders. Though they know little about magic it seems, their own weapons are far superior to ours.”

“Yes, I will take your concern into consideration. You may leave.” With that, the Shadow scaled back up the wall and into the rafters. Alfonso turned to Itla with a grave look.

“Whoever these people are. They have my attention now.”