Crucible of Giria
The zealots had no chance of stopping the Farraleese soldiers. They were mercilessly mowed down by their rifles long before they could even activate their psi-blades. Some even kept counts, while others commented on how this was one of their easiest take-overs. ‘The Girian might’ was only a fantasy compared to what the Farraleese Empire had accomplished. They cut down any no matter who they came across, whether zealot or assassin or even a lost Girian noble. This brutality satisfied Von-wratha. Nearing the peak of the Spire was the grand serpent-patterned doorway to the oracle’s most sacred antechamber and their ultimate seat of power.
“I can feel the power of the fount, we are close,” Xolrin remarked as his fingers brushed across the ornate design.
“Your Highness, you should be behind our squadron before we enter the antechamber, your safety is paramount,” Irulan said.
“Oh yes, the oracles will not appreciate peasants taking their source of power,” Von said.
Irulan's perfect lips twitched in frustration. She turned to hand signal her soldiers to begin firing upon the doors. The dark metal transformed into a dull orange that grew whiter and hotter until holes appeared in the doors. However, Von-wratha's impatience forced the soldiers aside as she plied open the partially molten doors in the stone walls.
Beyond those doors lay those who used, humiliated and ultimately discarded her. Von-wratha's vengeance was nigh. She glided into the antechamber. Her reflection was caught in its pearly white floors. But to her dismay, the hall was empty. Her feet met the floor as Farraleese soldiers poured through the doors with their weapons pointed ahead, swarming around the thrones, searching for anyone or anything.
“Where are they?” Xolrin said through his teeth.
“They must’ve abandoned the city to save their pitiful hides,” Von whispered.
“Emperor, we found someone,” a soldier said, pulling a white-robed male from behind Oracle Razza's throne. His greasy blue-black head hung low as he was dragged by the arms across the room and dropped in front of Xolrin and Irulan.
Oracle Charr rose his head. His eyes wide and his lips trembling with fear. His time-beaten face was covered in black and grey stubble, small wrinkles lined across his forehead, laugh lines indented into his chubby cheeks and his nose crooked and bent looking like a bosh'kag broodling. “Please, don’t kill me,” he said.
“We won't, yet,” Irulan said as her eyes locked onto his.
Oracle Charr looked to Xolrin. “What do you people want?”
“The fount that your people use for power, where is it?” Xolrin said as his body towered over him.
Deranged chuckles escaped Von-wratha's lips. Oracle Charr looked to her. His eyes bulged out from their sockets when he saw her ashen face. “We all thought you were dead.”
“You cannot kill rage, Charr,” she purred.
Irulan picked up Oracle Charr by the scruff of his robes and lifted him to her face. “Answer the Emperor's question, filth!”
“Our link to the Twins is gone,” he said holding his eyes shut.
Xolrin grabbed Oracle Charr's neck and tore him away from Irulan's grip. “Where is the fountain?” he growled.
Oracle Charr trembled; tears leaked from his closed eyes that ran down his round face. “It's gone. The portal is shut. The Council entered it after evacuating everyone and shut it from the other end...I arrived too late,” his puffy eyes opened and looked to the high ceiling.
Von-wratha followed his stare high up; what was a beautiful deep blue cloud with glittering silver specks became an empty space. They were gone, hiding in another plane and now Von-wratha was left with her unfinished vengeance. Her innards twisted and her blood boiled. She stretched her telekinetic mind and lifted Oracle Charr high to the metallic ceiling.
“Put me down, Von-wratha! Put me down, please, I'll do anything you people want – just let me go,” he begged as his limp body floated.
“A foolish request, Charr,” she chuckled as she slightly released him from her grip. His cries excited her further. “Now, re-open the portal!”
“I-I cannot. Whoever sealed the portal would be on the other side, in the domain of the Twins,” he said.
“Could you call them to return, tell them that we were defeated?” Irulan asked.
“They would see through my lies, they always do,” he said.
“Then you will need to re-open it if you want to live,” Von said.
“I can't-,” Charr shrieked when Von-wratha released her grip only to catch him again, “even if I could, I don't have the power to do that.”
Xolrin’s eyes travelled to Von-wratha before returning them to Charr. “If we gave you enough power, could you?”
“I don’t know- maybe,” he said before Von-wratha released her grip, sending him hurtling down. Charr fell with a gratifying crack when he struck the marble floor. The sound of crunching bone was like music to her ears.
Von-wratha looked down to see Oracle Charr barely moving. His helplessness roused a devious thought in her mind. “Throw him to the sensory deprivation cells for a while, that might relax him.”
Xolrin turned to Irulan. “Take him to the dungeons and get one of our doctors to care for his injuries. Prepare my soldiers to search for any survivors in the city and bring them to the dungeons.”
Oracle Charr looked up with fear in his eyes. He mouthed a ‘no’ that was left ignored as copper armoured soldiers took him by the arms and dragged him away from the antechamber.
“My Emperor, shouldn’t we give some of the Girians to Charr and save the rest for when we establish our lordship over them?” Irulan said.
“We will take as many survivors as Charr needs to open the portal. If I must sacrifice all of them, then that is what I will do,” Xolrin said. His voice was colder and his temper rising.
Irulan hesitated. Her topknot slightly bounced as she bowed low before hastily making her way to the antechamber’s doorway.
“Lieutenant,” Von said. She smiled as the Farraleese female halt and turn back in irritation, “I would start looking for the wood vaults to the base of the Spire, there’s bound to be some younglings waiting for their parents to collect them eventually.”
The muscles in her cheek twitched before twisting her head back and disappearing out of the melted doorway.
“I don’t think she appreciates my help, Xolrin,” Von purred.
Xolrin inhaled and closed his eyes. She sensed an animalistic craze he was attempting to contain deep within his subconscious. “You managed to summon us in the dungeons before. Why couldn’t you open that portal? If we keep him as a prisoner, then he could betray us,” Xolrin said, finally opening his eyes.
“Oracle knowledge on teleportation far surpasses my own. No, what happened in the dungeon was an exception for my abilities. There, I had an abundance of...energy,” Von paused a moment, before continuing, “as for Charr's betrayal, it is an absolute certainty. He and I have a history - a sort of master and slave relationship. Tonight, I will be his master.”
“Leave us,” Xolrin commanded to his remaining squadron, as they left the antechamber. His eyes locked onto hers. “Don’t break him, Von-wratha, I am warning you,” Xolrin said,
“Hah, the sensory deprivation cells will do nothing to him – physically,” she said with a devilish grin.
“Is that where they put you before they exiled you?” Xolrin asked.
He wiped Von-wratha's grin from her face. The antechamber fell as silent as the Plane of the Dead. Xolrin's face was unreadable. He was either a fool to touch the angry snake or a hunter wanting to kill it.
Von-wratha forced a laugh. “Where else could they chain something like me?”
“Irulan informed me about what your life was like here that you were trained to kill at an early age and served those who sat in this very room. It was a terrible life,” he said. His mind was hidden away behind a telepathic barrier strong enough to repel Von-wratha’s.
“That’s a dead life, Xolrin. I don’t care what happens to those vermin,” she growled.
“Yet you are here with us, killing them and enjoying it. A fraction of you must at least care for them. Otherwise you would still be in the Barrier Hills,” he said.
“I agreed to go on your little ‘campaign’ because you wanted someone to conquer a foreign land and spill blood in your name. You lot are all the same,” she said.
“I heard those words years ago,” Xolrin's lips slightly curled as his eyes drifted into distant memory, “before my ascension, there was someone in my life. We intended to be life-partners, but after becoming Emperor that was no longer possible.”
“Stop,” her voice was a barely audible whisper.
“Perhaps, it’s not about them; it’s about only one person,” he said.
“Irulan learnt enough about me from our bonding experience,” she said. Von-wratha wanted nothing more than to shred Xolrin into pieces at that moment.
“No, you told me just then. Whatever that person did to you, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is what you have done with your life and how others will remember you.”
“And how will your old lover remember you? As the one who betrayed them?” she spat.
“I wouldn’t know, I never saw him again,” Xolrin said.
~
The sun had dimmed in the sky, so distant was its burn, that it was a little larger than any other star. It left the main sun alone in the heavens for the coming blooming of flowers, grass and trees in the province. However, there would be no Girians to revel in the fresh growth, to feed their younglings, to feast in their hearths, to offer to their gods. This was the last sun the Girian people will ever see again.
Von-wratha watched from the Spire's window. The city below smoked from the fires still burning, the serpent banners were torn from the walls and were replaced by white drapes with a copper circle in the centre. The Farraleese troops had begun trying to tame some of the flames so they could sack the buildings and take refuge in them. Cries from the streets reached her ears; she saw several soldiers pulling Girian commoners from their homes and rounded them up on the roads before they shoved them towards the Spire. She bit her lip; her teeth scratched her delicate skin as her mind considered how many would be still surviving in the rubble. There were a million minds in Giria before she had been exiled, there would be little more when she returned. The Farraleese had decimated the zealots and some of the civilians in the first wave, yet there were too few survivors found in the city. There was something she had missed, something she hadn't accounted for.
“Von-wratha,” Irulan's voice called from behind her.
“Yes, lieutenant?” she said, whilst keeping her gaze to the broken black city.
“Are you ready to open the portal?” she said.
“No,” Von replied.
Irulan's breath became heavier and more frustrated. “We will not wait for you forever, witch.”
Von-wratha spun around, her eyes sharpened on the Farraleese female's frowned face. “Fool, it's not me that is holding your progress, it's your soldiers not gathering enough people.”
“We have recovered every single Girian we could find in the city to bring them here. The rest have probably escaped through the portal,” she said.
Von-wratha tapped her nails against the windowsill. “Perhaps, but they were already escaping through the portal by the time we came. As if they already knew about their doom...”
“Of course, they knew of our coming, Xolrin sought to that – he was invited here,” she said as her tone grew frustrated.
“They didn't know I'd be here, but...hmph, doesn't matter now. How many have you found?” Von said.
“Less than a thousand, though we're expecting a little more,” she said.
“That cannot be all, their energy won't be enough for me to open the door. There must be more, I can feel them somewhere,” she said. Her eye caught a slight hesitation in Irulan; Von-wratha had almost overlooked it when she noticed her stare, “something to share, Irulan?”
“Nothing with you,” she hissed as her hand tightened around the silver hilt of her shooting weapon.
Von-wratha eyed the device. The long, thin copper tube had nail-length switch an inch from Irulan’s main finger. “What do you call those things?”
“Guns,” Irulan’s eyes dropped to it, “in all our travels, no one else has managed to make anything like it,”
“That’s why all the others were so easy to conquer, hm?” she smirked. “Does the rest of the world look like this?”
Irulan shook her head as her eyes glazed over the orange horizon. “The Farraleese had never known a hellish place like this existed, let alone creatures surviving here. I pity you,”
“The desert is nothing compared to what Giria was. If you look just over that red hill, that crumbled building where I grew up,” Von pointed out to the edge of the window, “you've learnt a lot about me, and I know a lot about you,”
“You know nothing about me, Von-wratha,” she said with a fierce glare.
“That's not entirely true, I saw how upset you were with Xolrin in the antechamber, is that the first time you had a conflict of interest with your emperor?” Von said as her mind carefully probed around the fringes of Irulan's thoughts, “I know what it’s like, better than most when you're forced to do something you don't want to do.”
Irulan stepped toward the sill and looked out to the orphanage hill. She was so close, Von-wratha could smell ash and dust from her armour.
“Pathetic old dump, we too have some of the same places for younglings whose parents or guardians can't take care of them anymore. They would never be allowed to be sheltered in places like that,” Irulan quietly said.
A flare of anger rose in Von-wratha at her words. “You mould them into becoming mindless killers too?”
Irulan carefully turned to face her, a twinkle of pride shone in her eyes. “On the contrary, we care the most for them since they have no one else,”
Von-wratha's lips curled. “Shame you came so late, Irulan, we should've been conquered by you centuries ago.”
“Better late than never,” her eyes dropped to the ashen city, “one day, the Farraleese will envelop this world and everyone will know what peace, kinship and prosperity means.”
“You truly care for your people, very admirable. Sadly, Girians will never know your dream, Xolrin saw to that.” Von sensed a great struggle within Irulan. Her mind was too heavily guarded by a psionic barrier for her to enter indirectly.
“Once Xolrin has claimed what is his, then he will be our greatest leader. I know it,” she said.
“But he can't do it without me, and I can't do it without the right amount of people,” Von expanded her mind to the Girian captives within the Spire and skimmed around the city. She counted their minds, but there was an ambient energy humming just beyond her reach, “Have you checked the wood vaults for anyone there?”
“The odd noble, however, nothing that you had hoped for. You'll have to make do with what you have, Von-wratha,” Irulan gave a faint smile.
“That's a shame, I could've sworn there were many more,” she whispered as she inched closer to Irulan, “there are other options.”
Irulan's eyes widened as her lips parted. “What are you saying?”
“You brought an armada and had taken a city in mere hours. What use do you have for your soldiers now?” she said.
“Never in a million lifetimes would I ever give up my people!” she roared.
“Fortunately, that's not your decision to make, that's Xolrin's,” Von couldn't keep her grin down as she levitated from the floor.
“He won't agree to it,” she said.
“Xolrin knows what he wants and seems willing to do anything to get it,” Von said. Irulan's cheeks were pink and eyes reddened; her psi shield wavered from her emotions. “Unless, you show me where you're hiding all the survivors.”
Irulan closed her eyes, and the muscles in her jaw tightened and loosened. “You'll have to find them yourself.”
“There's a faster way,” Von said as she lowered herself to the warm floor. She snatched Irulan's hand and slithered her way back into her consciousness. She opened her mind to her surroundings, taking in all the thoughts around the city.
It was significantly quieter than the last time she tapped into their collective thoughts; she could sense her kind with greater ease than the strange Farraleese rampaging through the city. The Girian minds that remained in the Black Walls were fragmented and were in utter chaos. Von-wratha sensed the fear and rage from them before sensing their higher consciousness. There were thousands still hidden beneath the water caverns and many more in the sensory deprivation cells. She could feel Irulan's most powerful psychic guards trying to hold a psionic cloak over them, but their power was far clumsier and weaker than a Girian's, let alone hers.
Irulan's arm trembled as she yanked it from Von-wratha's grasp. With her head hanging low and with heavy breaths, she pressed her fingers against her temples.
“Don't be so upset, Irulan,” Von whispered as her blackened fingers parted loose black hairs from her brow, “it could be so much worse: I could tell Xolrin what you tried to do.”
Irulan's eyes shot up as her palm cracked against Von-wratha's nasal bone. A flash of pain came over her as warm liquid dribbled down her upper lip. Von-wratha covered her nose. Irulan's round lips curled into a satisfied smirk before she dashed down the halls. With the last piece of bone cracked into place, Von-wratha wiped the blood from her lips and continued her stare out into the city.