The Aeternum Chronicles- The Complete Trilogy, page 62
part #1 of The Aeternum Chronicles Series
Anzien fought with everything she had, blocking, parrying, and evading. She was fully on the defensive; Cerus left no room for attack, and would soon overwhelm her if she didn’t do something fast. The eye over his right cheek had turned a deep purple, and was nearly swollen shut. It wasn’t much, but she might be able to use it.
The rapid clanging of their blades rang out as Anzien fought for her life. She rolled left to his blind side, blocking his pursuing blade, and rose with the swipe of her dagger. The subtle resistance told her she had struck flesh, though any chance of follow-up was obliterated by a sledgehammer punch to her stomach.
Anzien stumbled back, gasping. Had Cerus charged then, the fight would have been over. As it was, he too staggered back, clutching the fresh wound at his midsection. Anzien struggled to regain her breath, as Cerus slowly lifted his blood-soaked hand, looking down at the wound. His pale face, streaked in blood, became twisted with rage.
Anzien took her first full breath, and glanced over her shoulder. She was less than five paces from the edge of the ridge—a drop that would kill as surely as a blade. Cerus charged, his good eye bulging, sword raised overhead. There was no time to think. Anzien raised her short-sword, instinctively readying to parry the attack and evade his bulk, but Cerus dropped his sword at the last second, spreading his arms wide. With no attack to parry, Anzien lunged desperately out of the way, but it was too late. Cerus wrapped his arms around her, and they careened toward the drop.
21
The Nothing
Time slowed, and Anzien felt her heart beat in her chest with two, slow thumps. She was moving through the air, toward her inexorable death. Strangely, her mind found time to wander. She thought about Simeon, and their flight from New Arcadia. She thought about life in Masada, and the more recent trials she and her friends had faced. There were unresolved concerns about the battle below, and Simeon’s survival, but overall she was at peace. She had lived her life according to the code, and regretted none of it.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Hold strong, Simeon.
She and Cerus reached the edge, and slowed to a stop.
Anzien’s thoughts became dreamlike. Her body felt like it was submerged in thick molasses. She slowly opened her eyes, and willed them to look down. They obeyed, but ever so slowly. Cerus was mid-step, with one foot on solid ground, and the other in the process of stepping off. Anzien hung in empty air, hundreds of paces above the rocky surface of the gorge below.
The molasses feeling slowly ebbed, and she was able to move her dangling legs. Cerus’ powerful arms were wrapped around her, pinning her own to her sides. She flexed, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, and pushed out with all her strength. His tensed biceps wouldn’t budge. She tried again, and this time was rewarded for her efforts. The half-inch of space she created was enough for her to slip through his arms. She dropped, and in her panic groped desperately at Cerus’ frozen form for purchase. Her hand encountered his scabbard, and her fingers clasped around it. Dangling from his sword-belt, she looked down past her boots at the gorge, hundreds of feet below.
Lifting her bloodied arm, she grabbed onto a piece of Cerus’ clothing. Slowly, she inched her way around him, and with one last burst of effort, pulled herself back up, onto the ledge.
Anzien panted, resting on her hands and knees.
How?
She lifted her head and found Simeon standing beside a nearby rock formation with his arms extended, wearing a look of intense concentration. She looked at the rippling air surrounding Cerus, and back to her brother. There was a flash of motion behind him.
“Simeon look out!” Anzien’s scream reverberated in her head.
She reached out impotently as a blade emerged from his chest, then retreated back out. His arms dropped, and Anzien heard a small scuffle of sand to her right as Cerus continued out over the drop. Simeon fell to his knees, revealing Keres, standing behind him with a merciless grin.
Anzien struggled to her feet as Pria rose silently behind him. In the blink of an eye, she grasped his hair, yanked his head back, and drew her knife across his throat.
Anzien sprinted toward them. Simeon, please…Maker don’t take him from me. By the time she arrived, Pria was already bent over him, administering aid with the tools in her satchel. Anzien’s heart was torn in two at the sight of his blood soaked tunic and pallid complexion.
“Help me sit him up!” Pria ordered, pushing the plunger of an injector she had stuck into his chest. “We need to put pressure on the entrance wound.”
Anzien knelt down, placing an arm around his shoulder, gently cradling his head. He grimaced as she sat him up, then looked at her with lidded eyes. A small smile turned up at the corner of his mouth.
“Hold this against the wound,” Pria instructed, handing her a handful of white gauze.
Anzien immediately pressed it firmly against the ragged hole in his back.
“Hey Anzi,” he whispered breathlessly.
“Boil it Simeon!” she said, overtaken by fear and irrational anger. “You’re supposed to be with the other recruits below!”
“Saw the flare,” he said weakly, “had to come.”
Anzien felt her world crumbling. Her tears fell, creating small dark circles on his tunic.
He cried out in pain, arching his back.
“He’s losing too much blood,” Pria’s voice was strained. She reached into her satchel for another injector, bit the plastic cap off and jabbed it into his arm.
Simeon gasped as his eyes went wide.
“Hold on Simmy. Fight it. You have to fight it!”
His breaths had become labored and irregular. Pria worked at the wound, fervently trying to stem the bleeding. Blood covered her hands and forearms.
Simeon’s eyes again began to droop.
“Simmy!” Anzien cried out.
“Anzi,” he said weakly. “I feel…so light.”
His eyes drifted shut, and his body went slack in her arms.
In that moment, the world ceased to exist. Anzien felt herself floating in emptiness. She looked around, and found only vast, expanding darkness.
“…gone Tsierig.” A voice echoed from far off, and Anzien pushed it away. She wanted to stay here, in the nothing. Instinct warned her that terrible things awaited, should she go back.
“…to stop, he’s gone.”
No. She refused.
“Anzien!” Pria’s shout snapped her back to the present.
She looked down at her hands. They were covered in blood. She had been shaking Simeon’s lifeless body, her voice ached from screaming, though she hadn’t remembered doing it.
“He’s gone.”
Anzien felt a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry.”
She looked up at Pria, who had tears streaming down her cheeks.
This can’t be real.
Anzien stood and walked to the edge of the ridge.
The impossible scene before her barely registered.
The troops had diverted from the western slope of the plateau around to the eastern path, as planned. The sun had risen, shedding its first rays of light on the stretch of plateau strewn with bodies, both human and bestial. Soldiers pressed forward, drawing closer to the facility, though they didn’t fight alone.
Small figures, dressed in beige wraps and wielding tall spears, fought nimbly alongside them. Suddenly a four-winged arbex swooped down, grasping a wolf-beast in its rear talons. The small figure on its back guided the arbex high into the sky, where it released the beast. Another swooped down, knocking two more over the sheer drop at the edge of the plateau. Several more arbexes circled above, their dark, iridescent feathers reflecting brilliantly in the morning sun.
Another swooped low, and was pulled violently to the ground by some invisible force. Several nearby soldiers suddenly and inexplicably flew tumbling backward through the air.
Breaker, Anzien thought numbly.
The black-robed figure floated forward with its hood pushed back, revealing a parchment white skin wrapped thin around its skull. The wolf-beasts gave it a wide berth as it raised its arms, gesturing and wreaking havoc on any brave enough to challenge.
The soldiers below had realized the danger, and Anzien watched as the troops turned their focus toward the menace. Several arrows flew through the air toward it. The breaker raised its claw-like hand, and the arrows halted in the air. They spun, and shot back toward those who fired them, sending the archers tumbling down from their perches on the northern ridge.
Nimble beige figures leapt acrobatically, attempting to skewer it with their spears. One came close, but was instantly crushed by an invisible force and tossed lifelessly aside.
Nearby, a mountain of a man swung his blade dauntlessly, fatally hewing the beasts that stood in his path. Beside him, they looked more like dogs than wolves. He’s carving a path to the breaker, Anzien realized.
Obasi fought with relentless, primal strength. So much so, that others had begun giving him a wide berth as well. He soon cut his way to an open stretch of flat rock and sand, directly across from the malevolent being. They stood for a moment, staring each other down; then Obasi charged. His boots pounded the ground as he thundered toward his target.
He was mere paces from reaching it when he struck an invisible wall and was frozen, mid-strike. Anzien watched as he strained, his massive blade held above the breaker. Obasi screamed such a battle cry, it somehow carried up to her over all else. He strained, attempting to push through the breakers gravity. It gave way, and his sword sliced down, cleaving into its shoulder, and slicing diagonally through the torso.
Every wolf-beast on the plateau stood at once and raised their foaming muzzles to the sky. Their drawn, melancholy howls sent a chill down Anzien’s spine.
The remaining soldiers cut them down as they bellowed, and arrows trailed those attempting to flee. Soon there were none left alive. The soldiers, realizing it was over, shouted a chorus of exuberant cheers, raising their weapons toward the sky.
“They’ve won,” she heard herself saying flatly. A somber sense of satisfaction swirled in her chest.
Anzien looked right, and found Pria by her side. The morning breeze gently lifted the golden forelocks framing her blood-smeared face. Together, they looked out across the battlefield in silence.
22
Stand and Fight
Anzien stood at attention before the no-nonsense woman. Her brown hair was pulled tight around her head, collected in a tidy bun at the back. This, Anzien had been told, was the field general. Floating in a surreal numbness, she could feel the mechanical operation of her body, her brain giving the appropriate answers to the questions she received; but she was only a passive witness to these things.
“I’m sorry about the loss of your brother,” the general looked at her with genuine sympathy, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Anzien looked down at the hand.
The memory of carrying Simeon’s body down from the ridge replayed in her mind. She remembered being surprised at how heavy it was, given his slender build.
The woman removed her hand and continued, “My name is Field General Graves. Commander Tsierig, I am told that we have you to thank for our release.”
“Runner Tsierig,” she said with detached indifference.
“Come again?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
“My rank, is Runner.”
General Graves pursed her lips. “Regardless of your rank, your efforts helped to save over fifteen-hundred lives.”
“Tilus estimated over two thousand.”
Graves frowned. “We suffered heavy casualties.”
Anzien said nothing, staring at her blankly.
“Perhaps you should come with me,” Graves said, then turned and strode past those newly freed, and recently wounded, toward the northern building. She was flanked by two straight-backed soldiers, walking in locked step slightly behind her.
Anzien followed Graves, and heard the footsteps of her squad as they brought up the rear. They were all back together now, excluding Taybor, who had suffered an injury and was at the mercy of the menders. They said he would make a full recovery. The rest of them refused to leave her side.
The general turned and stood before the entrance to the large, reflective building. It was bigger than Anzien had estimated, now she was seeing it up close.
“On the other side of this door are things…things that may be disturbing to you.” She looked them over, one at a time. “Prepare yourselves.” She turned and nodded to her guard, who opened the door and pushed it inward.
Anzien stepped inside the massive, high-ceilinged warehouse. It was lit from above, and along the floor, with rows of sterile fluorescent bars. Between the rows, spaced evenly from the front of the warehouse to the back, were tall glass tubes filled with some unknown liquid. Floating inside were unconscious men and women, in varying stages of gestation. The one closest to Anzien looked completely normal from the neck down, but her face had been stretched and deformed into a partial snout, her teeth jutting from her jaw at odd angles. A tube extended from the top of her tank, snaking together with the others, and eventually feeding into a massive black dome in the ceiling.
There was a mechanical hissing, and black liquid seeped from the tube into the tank. It swirled around itself before snaking into the woman’s elongated nostrils. She twitched afterward, her leg making a dull thump as it came in contact with the glass.
It was much as Anzien had suspected. They had been fighting their own men and women this whole time.
“I’ll be outside,” Sheif spoke from behind. His footsteps echoed as he left.
“We have to destroy this place,” said Anzien.
“I’ve got a demolition team working on it, but first, we need to determine if there are any here we can save.”
Anzien looked at the general. She’s hiding something.
“What else?”
General Graves met her gaze with a cool, discerning stare.
“Would it be alright if we spoke alone for a moment?”
Anzien hesitated. The request was reminiscent of Tilus’. But this woman is a general…and legitimately so, she reminded herself. She nodded, turning to her team. “It’s okay. I’ll be out shortly.”
They studied her apprehensively for a moment, then turned and walked outside.
“Dismissed,” Graves said to her guard, and they obediently left as well. Once they were alone, Graves took a deep breath and seemed to relax somewhat. “It takes damn good leadership to inspire that kind of loyalty,” she said, nodding toward the door. “How long have you and your squad been working together?”
“Since we left Masada,” she said. How long had it been? Three weeks? It felt like years had passed.
“They speak very highly of you. Say you alone stood up to Tilus, that your planning was the deciding factor.”
“They are responsible for this victory as much as I am…more so.”
“I tend to agree with them, Tsierig. We are facing a threat, the likes of which I’ve not seen in hundreds of years. Somehow, the Ministry has learned the locations of all of our fortifications. They are making a concerted effort to stamp us out, permanently.” She paused, gauging Anzien’s reaction. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to let that happen on my watch.” Her expression grew stern, defiant.
“We’re going to need good leaders, Tsierig, if we’re going to survive this. You’ve proven more than capable. I’d like to promote you to Legion Commander, should you be willing to take the job.”
Anzien felt a subtle hint of emotion run through her. Legion Commander…the same rank held by Preceptor Crane. The emotion flitted inside her for a moment, before the numbness returned.
“Why haven’t you begun demolition?”
Graves smirked. “I can see why Tilus had trouble with you.”
“Tilus had trouble with me because he was a lying coward, unfit to command a squad, much less a fist of soldiers.” Anzien’s jaw was set, her fists clenched into tight balls.
“Of course. I apologize—I meant no disrespect,” Graves somehow managed to apologize without giving ground. “I’m not sure if they’ve told you yet, but Tilus had been court martialed, tried, and found guilty for the abduction and murder of three soldiers under his command, one of which he had beaten to death with a canteen.” Graves paused, allowing the disquieting truth linger in the air. “I’m not telling you this to try and upset you, I’m telling you because I want you to know that your instincts about him were right. The man is a monster.”
“And now he’s loose, somewhere out in the desert,” Anzien muttered.
“Our new…friends have offered to help with that,” Graves said with the hint of a smile.
Ah yes, the Sahra’. It had to have been them, helping in the fight. The Miralaja was host to countless secrets and legends. Luckily, the legend of the Sahra’ turned out to be true. If not for their help, this day would have turned out much differently. As far as Anzien knew, nothing like this had ever happened before.
“What do you say?” Graves asked, attempting to steer the conversation back. “Will you take the job?”
“You’ll have your answer as soon as I have mine. Why have you not shut down these tanks, and begun demolition?”
The muscles in Graves’ jaw twitched as she clenched her teeth. There was a long pause. “Very well,” she acceded. “The ministry is employing advanced bio-genetic manipulation in this facility. We need to study what is happening here, in order to better understand it.”
“To what end?” Anzien asked, without a hint of deference.
“The Aeternum Wars have begun anew, Runner Tsierig. Rumors of cataclysmic weapons fly, and we are assaulted daily by deadly new monstrosities. Things are going to get much worse before they get any better, and we are going to need every advantage we can get if we’re going to survive. That includes those we appropriate from our enemies.”
