Chapter 9

The Game

Ariei

“Run back to headquarters. Relay these commands to Edom. Gather everybody inside, and start moving people into the center of the city. Braham had one hundred and fifty coremag rifles produced years ago in the case of emergency, along with two hundred standard blades. They are in the deep armory, locked behind the third door at the end. Arm the capable adults of the city. Volunteers first, then anybody else able to hold a weapon. Fighters towards the entrance, unarmed in the back.”

“Liet-”

“You want to be a hero? Your father needs you more than I do. The people need you more than I do. This Archion is dangerous. If I can kill him now, we may be able to save ourselves. Now, go.”

Liet rushes around the corner, drawing her broadsword. She steps towards the gathering. I peek my head around the corner, hiding myself as best as I can behind the gnarled planks that line the wall. There are three men, as I predicted- the killer, another soldier, and what must be the Archion. He’s a tall, fit man. As he is now, he wears a suit of Centralian armor- though the helmet is missing. At first I’m surprised to see somebody with such a prestigious air equipped for battle, but I soon realize how correct his attire is. As far as he knows, an entire city wants his people dead. He has long brown hair that falls past his shoulders, a short goatee accentuating his sharp features. He almost immediately spots Liet- not like it’s difficult. She strikes an intimidating image in any scenario.

“Halt. I intend no more bloodshed on Ios.”

She quickens her step. She draws closer, her grip tightening around the greatsword’s hilt.

“You intend no more bloodshed? You lie to me, even as your pet’s blade is still dripping? You’ve killed Nilebrie! He was BEGGING FOR HELP!”

So that’s who it was. I couldn’t recognize his voice. I barely got to know Nilebrie. He’d always been quiet, usually focusing himself on medicinal research on topside plants. Still, it stings. Somebody I've lived near, grown near, passed nearly every day of the past few years- and now he’s gone. The Archion is unmoving, entirely focused.

“I see. That was his name.”

Liet screams, swinging her blade horizontally towards the man’s side. He leaps back, a soft whir emitting from the back of his armor. His soldiers step forward, drawing their blades, identical to the others we’ve seen- curved slightly, white, the blade glowing softly. Liet keeps moving forward. She is a wall of anger closing around its nearly helpless prey- she has been emboldened by a simultaneous sense of duty and desperation.

“If you intend to no longer shed blood, then I assume you will refuse to fight?!”

She swings again, this time preparing an overhead blow bearing down on the leftmost soldier’s helmet. He raises his sword, the curve catching her blade. Liet’s broadsword is still much heavier than his; he struggles to catch it, and his sword almost collides with his helmet itself. In the end he has to reject the catch and leap backwards as his weapon clatters to the ground. As promised, the soldiers refuse to fight back. The Archion reaches behind his armor, clearly reaching for a weapon in case the situation gets worse than it already is.

“Please, emberstrand. Allow me to explain myself.”

Liet pauses. She keeps her sword leveled, prepared and watching for any movement from the soldiers.

“I refuse to relinquish my weapon, tyrant.”

The man smirks. “I’ll make you a better offer. We’ll drop our weapons. You may keep yours, even.”

He nods to his soldiers. They perform the action as their leader promised. The Archion pulls his weapon free as the armor hisses. It’s another sword, as expected. However, a strangle cable lines its center. A faint mist rises from it, a crackling sound emitting from the blade. He tosses it on top of the pile, the unarmed men stepping back. Liet stares directly at him.

“I could kill you right now.”

“You could.” He takes a few steps forward. “And you couldn’t be blamed for that.”

I take this moment to step out from behind the building. There’s something very, very wrong with the atmosphere of the conversation. It’s bound to bubble over at some point- either Liet snaps and murders him where he stands, or the Archion and his men order something far worse. He glances at me as I move. Liet glares.

“Ariei, I told you to ru-”

I hold out my hand, asking for brief silence. Liet is surprised- I’ve even surprised myself. I just issued a command to my commander. How strange it is to be emboldened by a crisis. I look directly to the Archion.

“I am Ariei, daughter of Edom, himself one of the saviors of the first outreach. To your left is the other savior, commander of the emberstrand, Liet. We are trained warriors of the civilization of Ios, survivors of the Maw, explorers of the topside environment.”

Silence. Shut up before you get everybody killed.

“What purpose do you have with us?”

Liet looks at me, stunned. Without intending to, my expression locks. I may have either opened a pathway for communication or doomed any negotiations from the start. The Archion smirks.

“A pleasure to meet you, Ariei, of the civilization of Ios. And you, commander.” He bows regally. I return the favor. Liet is still dumbstruck. The Archion begins his negotiation.

“I will be swift. To begin, we have imprisoned the emberstrand you left on the surface upon our loftfort. They are entirely safe, untouched, and are being fed. Their accommodations are fair. What we request, what our operation entails, is simple. You return our captured centralian soldiers- along with Commander Gierant- to us. In return, not only will we return your captured soldiers, but we will give you support. We will share our technology, educate you on the Pillars - along with the science and philosophy we have discovered- and, should you wish, integrate Ios as one of the Pillars.”

Liet interrupts. “That’s it? Nothing else?”

The Archion nods. “Yes. That’s it. I do apologize for killing Nilbrie. We were simply worried that he would send the city into a panic, making this far harder than it should be. You understand, don’t you?”

She’s still breathing heavily, processing her anger.

“I would like to ask you a question.”

“Of course.”

“I’m assuming you weren’t here on the loftfort. How did you arrive so quickly?”

“My son and I arrived on a YirMast. It’s a flying vessel.”

I very nearly audibly express my awe . Humanity can fly. What else have these people achieved while we toiled away underground? Liet does not share my excitement, however. If anything, the news has made her more tense.

“I don’t take well to murderers. As far as I can tell, you are a butcher- and I would like to avoid any of my livestock wandering into your maw. And so, I will play along. Very well, Archion. Expect the answer to your negotiation by midday.”

“That can’t be it.”

Liet is angry, walking in broader strides as swiftly as she can. I wish we could run. Instead, our slower movement hides the anxiety exuding from us as we near headquarters. I respond in soft expression as we move past the early morning flooding of the pathways leaving the residential quarter.

“I agree. There has to be something more there. They wouldn’t have been as rash as to murder Nilebrie, even if they were concerned about him panicking everybody else.’

She sighs. “I don’t want to admit it, Ariei, but I'm scared.”

I don’t blame her. I’m terrified, as well. Braham had mentioned that the calamity would be within five days. If this is how bad things are turning now, what will occur later? What does this calamity entail that hasn’t happened yet?

“We need to arm the people, Liet.”

She nods sternly as we move towards the doors. They grind open after a short motion to the guards stationed on top. We are gifted with the sight of half the guild staring right back at us as the dust clears. A young man with short blonde hair and rough stubble towards the front- Sism- welcomes us back with a salute.

“Commander Liet! We were concerned. Carev was watching the communication center when she received a blank comm signal. We came to alert you, but you were already gone.”

Shit. Had I convinced her to go to the sewage facility, this whole crisis could have been averted. She puts a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“We’re fine, Sism. You have more to worry about.”

His relief turns to faint cynicism as Liet moves into the center of the room.

“Our six comrades on the surface have been captured by the Centralians. Their leader- or, at least, as far as I know- is known as an Archion. He arrived here in merely a day. How they sent their information that swiftly, I do not know. He mentioned some sort of mechanism that flew like a vilnen. If they have that sort of technology, I assume that they can send reinforcements swiftly. We do not know how large Centralis is, but if it is just one of these many pillars, we can assume there are far more soldiers at their disposal than we can imagine. The Archion promises to give us resources, and to educate us on their technology, should we return Gierant and the others. He wants to make us another Pillar of Cistria.”

The vast majority of the emberstrand in the room refute the notion as soon as she says it.

“Return? They should be executed! They deserve to be executed!”

“We deserve our own culture!”

“We need to cooperate!”

Liet holds her hand up. “Silence!”

She looks over the room. My father enters, his eyes vacant of the false joyous gleam he always put effort into displaying. That gleam has been replaced with an acknowledgement of defeat. Liet sees him, frowns, and resumes the briefing.

“I do not trust them. We should not trust them. If they felt the need to summon their leader, if they felt the need to capture our allies, then they are not truly guilty. They are not simply trying to move on. They want to integrate us- they presented it as an offer, a reward. No. This is their goal. Otherwise, they would have simply asked and left with Gierant and his crew. This could either prove transcendent for our culture- for our lives- or disastrous. I propose a failsafe.”

She points towards the armory.

“There is a door at the back of the armory. It has remained untouched for ten years. Braham locked it himself. He has produced one hundred and fifty coremag rifles. In addition to the firearms are two hundred swords. These have remained locked away for two reasons- one is to ensure we know the exact amount available in severe situations. The other? To prevent crime rampancy in the city. We are opening that locked abyss today. We will gather every citizen from the residential blocks. We will arm them. This is something I regret deeply. There is nothing more that I hate than introducing our innocent citizens to conflict. However, we must make do with what we have in case of disaster. We will also be recruiting the few criminals we do have as front-line defenders. This is their city, their people, as well. Should they survive in the case of conflict, their punishments will be reduced. Of course, all of this is a failsafe. Maybe the Centralians will simply help us. Maybe they will be kind, and give us the food, and the medicine, and the technology we so desperately seek. Maybe we will see surface civilizations in our lifetimes. However, I am not so trusting. I regret everything I am doing today, my allies. I regret what happened yesterday. I regret everything. I will put that regret aside for the time being. We must be emberstrand today. We must teach our people to be emberstrand. Otherwise, should they attack, we will not exist any longer. The beasts of the surface will win.”

She immediately turns towards the armory as confused questions and angry refutations spill towards her. I barely know what to think. There are so many things the Centralians can do, so many ways for them to attack. I fear civilian infighting, paranoia affecting us, neighbors shedding each other’s blood over petty arguments and misjudged retribution while armed. I fear the idea of us doing more harm to each other in the end than the Centralians do. What happens once we have to revoke the weaponry when we do survive? When innocents are forced to kill for survival? We volunteered for this. The majority of them will not.

I go to my father.

“We can’t let this happen.”

My father stares at me.

“I won’t lose you, Ariei. You will be protected from the-”

I stare at him, gaunt.

“What? N- no, I want to fight, father. I don’t deserve separate treatment from the rest of us. What I'm worried about is the idea that one of our citizens will try firing before any negotiations can commence. What I'm worried about is an entire city, untrained, being sent to die. I’m willing to fight- I need to fight. But we have to find a better plan.”

He shifts in his chair.

“I’ve caught many strigara in traps on the topside, Ariei. They curve and snap around the front legs- you remember, right? I showed you when you were younger. They barely work, of course. They’re smarter than that. You know what happens when one is caught? Its friend will come by, and shove its limbs into the trap. More will do so, until they can use their strength to lift it, and all of them will bleed, and all of them will survive. We are just distributing the blood amongst ourselves so we can get out of this trap we have fallen into.”

I glare at him.

“You are a hypocrite.”

He doesn’t respond.

“You just talked about how much you regretted sacrificing Elias, and mother. And yet you force the public to sacrifice themselves.”

He shakes his head.

“Theirs was a sacrifice I made for them in exchange for a cursed dream. This is noble. It’s voluntary.”

“Until the volunteers run out. And what happens when the battle starts, and nobility goes out the window? We aren’t hunting feral animals anymore.”

Liet returns to us after leading the emberstrand into the hidden armory. Some have already begun to spill back out, towing carts full of weaponry behind them. Blades and rifles are stacked in rows behind metal cages, the high-pitched rattle rumbling through the air.

“You two. Into the briefing room. Now.”

We follow her through, entering the wide space. An overused marking board hangs against the wall, several seats messily littered about. Most just walk through in the morning before their patrols, stopping to spot their name and daily workload written on the board. Liet closes the door after we enter.

“We need to discuss how the fuck we’re going to figure this out.”

My father raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not like we have any elevation advantages. The core city’s always been mostly flat.”

Liet shoots him a demeaning glare.

“Astute observation, Edom. It’s not like they can just drill down here randomly and hit groups of civilians. We’re sitting ducks, you idiot. We need to think about more than opportunities for offense.”

I open my mouth to defend my father, but Liet interrupts.

“You. I’m starting to value your mind, Ariei. What plans do you have?”

I start to think about Ios’s layout.

“My father has a point about elevation. Placing riflemen on top of buildings may just be saving grace. We’ve never seen the Centralians use ranged weapons, after all. If they’re unaware, then there’s a chance we could hold them off until our warriors can get in close and overwhelm them.”

Liets shifts her stance. “And what about their fanciful armor?”

“I think it’s predictive. If we can use that to our advantage- fake it out with attacks faster than it can shift into position- we can outsmart it. As for their blades, we still don’t know what they can do. The Archion had a specialized weapon.”

My father nods supportively.

“About casualties. What if we have our people space themselves out to minimize damage from the drills? Then, when our warriors group together to take down a soldier, they can immediately spread themselves back out again?”

I turn to him. “What about the leftovers who are unarmed? Where do we put them?”

Liet smiles. “We send them through the escape tunnel at the first sign of danger. We need them to start in the midst of the crowd, to show the forces we have in our command. An intimidation tactic. Then, as soon as conflict arises, we can get them through, single file. I’d hate to sound pessimistic, but by the time our fighters fall they should be safely escorted. I’ll even place twenty near the sewage facility for defense.”

My father looks at the two of us. “What escape tunnel?”

Liet smirks. “You daughter and I went on an investigative trip last night. Turns out Braham had a few secret touches added off the records.”

He chuckles. “I’m not surprised. Old bastard. I have a question, if I may. Why would we need an intimidation tactic? If almost half of our population appears armed and ready, wouldn’t it be enough of a deterrent?”

“We can’t be too safe.”

An idea comes to me almost immediately.

“What if we blend the two? With enough scatter, the enemy won’t be able to discern who’s armed and who isn’t. We can have both parties in similar stances. Some can show their weapons readily. Some can’t. We disguise the snipers. Then, if bloodshed begins, we can organize the lines and get unarmed civilians to safety without detection. Think of it as a living camouflage.”

It takes her a moment, but Liet nods. My father turns to me, grinning like a drunkard. It’s a relief to see him smile, even in such a grim scenario.

“I think we have a valid replacement commander here.”

Edom

I carry the ladder across my shoulder, the vastinroot construction heavy even for me. I place it against the side of a residential building. The area is full of stacked living spaces, each room large enough to fit four people is a small dwelling. They are connected by an outer scaffolding structure, stairs leading directly to the doors in a latticed orientation. Citizens descend them in a massive wave, flooding down like water into a gathering ramp. Although the scaffolding is meant to reach the top living spaces, they don’t extend to the roof. I watch as several volunteers with rifles approach. I search for the shortest and slimmest, the easiest camouflaged. I look past them for a moment, spotting two emberstrand educating civilians on the mechanisms and etiquette of their firearms. Ariei is right. We should never have to do this.

I send two up first- a slim boy in his older teens and his lover. I offer to let them leave with the others, but she says he wants to fight. She won’t abandon him here. It’s an honorable notion, although I wish I didn’t admit it. I used to be an optimist. I can’t subscribe to that notion of perception anymore. As such, I send the children to war in a place of potential safety and pray they will survive. Not all will. I know that now. I’ve drilled it into my head enough.

I hear somebody approaching. Turning back, I see Xiren approach me. She’s clutching a rifle in her hands. I can’t speak for a moment. I can’t even think of a single thing to say. Instead, she speaks for me.

“Edom.”

“Xiren.”

She motions towards the front of the city.

“I come to you with a request. Place me on top of Ciern’s tavern, right near the lift. I’m not prepared to fight physically- I just want to be the one to kill Gierant should conflict arise.”

I glare into her eyes. They’ve lost the spark she’s shown in the years I’ve known her.

“Don’t do this. You don’t need to do this.”

Her eyes narrow.

“They murdered Rietus. I saw him die- our children saw him die. Tirai hasn’t been able to speak, Edom. All he can do is stare, wide-eyed. They didn’t just take him. They traumatized us, forever. The children will never truly recover. That memory will linger. It will affect them every day going forward. This isn’t just me trying to avenge Rietus, Edom. I have to avenge the normal life that was taken from us.”

I shake my head.

“Xiren. Your children need you more than ever. I can’t let you abandon them. What happens if you die?”

“I won’t.”

“You might. And then they’ll have truly lost everything. You’d be abandoning them, Xiren.”

She moves closer.

“You’re trying to let them go.”

I take a few steps back.

“We’re not trying to let them go, Xiren. We would punish them if we could- trust me, I'd like nothing more. But we have to take the chance to solve this without further bloodshed. It’s for the best of the people.”

She stops in her tracks.

“For the best of the people. Figures. Edom. When you and Liet led the First Outreach, when you took those people into the Maw to establish a new city, was it for the best of the people? Liet always stood up and shared the blame. But you secretly convinced her it was a good idea the entire time, didn’t you?”

“XIREN-”

“She had her doubts, didn’t she? But you convinced her. Rietus was the one who told me those years ago. He was in her pocket as well. And when she, in turn, convinced Marit, you took them out of safety and a tragedy occured. You didn’t do it for the good of the people. You did it to further your research, to further the advancement of Ios. I don’t trust your judgment, Edom. I never have.”

With that, she turns to leave. I move to meet with the emberstrand educating the snipers.

“When she asks for a spot atop Ciern’s tavern, give it to her. Send this down the line.”

Ariei

We move together as a unit, composing ourselves in a diamond formation around the Centralians in the center. They have been cuffed and stripped of their weapons. Gierant still leads his eidelion with the same armor and chain leash it already had, although it has now been muzzled with a makeshift cage mask. We part the ocean of bodies around us to make way. We keep an eye out for any impromptu aggression from the populace, although they seem to be restraining themselves for now. Despite this, an overwhelming swarm of noise pours over the environment. It’s unparsable in its unorganized state. It is the sound of an injured, pained civilization crying out of panic, anger, the need for justice. I just hope for this simple escort to be done so we can begin healing.

As we near the edge of the city and the final lines begin to part I spot the Archion. He is surrounded by twelve Centralian soldiers. They form a three-rowed phalanx in front of him. Standing beside him is somebody new- also unhelmeted. He bears a youthful resemblance. He can’t be any older than I am. I turn to my father, who stands just to the left-front of me.

“It must be his son.”

My father nods wordlessly. The civilians around us stand at the ready. They’ve been ordered to wear longer, flowing clothes, the kind that can effectively hide a weapon- or, rather, a lack of one. They face forward. I can feel the anxiety rising from everybody around us. Those who are armed will have to kill. Those who are unarmed will have to run like prey in the wild. Either way, death looms over everyone, waiting to take its selection.

We inch forward, eventually nearing the Centralian soldiers in front of the lift. They move their blades in front of them, leveling them horizontally, ready to strike, to die for their Archion. Liet steps forward, pulling her hood down. She walks alone. She’d commanded this, despite my father’s advice against the presentation. She wants the confidence to be shown loud and clear. It’s a deterrent as much as it is an intimidation tactic.

“We have your captured soldiers here.”

The Archion nods.

“Very well.”

Liet glances behind her at the gathered men in the formation before turning back to face him.

“And what of our emberstrand?”

The Archion smiles. “They will be delivered once we receive our men.”

My father tenses up. I’m worried myself. I grip my rifle tighter. Liet turns back to us and raises her hand. As commanded, our formation shifts. We move behind the Centralians and keep walking, forcing them to move forward as well. Gierant leads, eventually moving to the front of the defending phalanx.

“My Archion. My thanks for the retrieval.”

The Archion bows softly.

“Of course, Commander. I moved to protect you and your men as soon as we received the signal.”

Liet interrupts. “I’m all for graceful reunions, but if I may, i’d like to request the return of our people and your graceful exit as soon as possible.”

Gierant nods, turning to his leader.

“Sir. I know I am not in order to offer advice, but we they are kind, truthful people. We have no need to further interact.”

The Archion nods. His expression is strange- it’s simultaneously honorable and tragic. There’s slight imperfections in the facade, a sad smile, a furrowed brow. He looks around at the city, before looking back at Gierant.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done, Gierant. You’ve proven yourself far beyond your expectations.”

“Sir-”

The Archion holds up a hand.

Liet immediately draws her broadsword. As soon as she does, we draw our weapons. The civilians wait for further signal should this escalate.

The Archion leans over to his son. He whispers something in his ear. The son’s eyes narrow. The archion reaches behind his back, drawing the same bizarre blade we witnessed earlier. I can’t believe what I'm witnessing. The Archion is crying.

“Gierant. You know we have to do this. We can’t let this place fall into the hands of the other Pillars, and we can’t let Husks continue to breed like this. And- Gierant- I’m truly sorry. We can’t let you or your men leave. It’s already too late.”

Gierant turns to run, his men beginning to do the same. It isn’t enough. The Archion’s blade splits into parts around its extended cable, swinging like a whip before splitting Gierant in half by the midsection. His upper body lands, twitching, struggling before the light fades from his eyes. The Archion’s men rush forward. As blood pours across the ground Liet raises her hand, a tragic command issued to the people of Ios in a desperate last whimper.

War has started, and nothing will be the same.