Part CI: Uniting Threads

Date: Kapton 11th, 114 A.U.

“We’ve finally gotten a signal from their radios.”

“What?” Zarien asked, jerking up his head to look at Rezja.

“We have a signal from the radios of your fellow Xavier Team members and have pinpointed their general location,” Rezja said.  “We caught it last night.  They’re near the capitol of the ancient Sla’ad empire.  I’ve already done the preparations to get a ship ready.”

“Wow,” Zarien said, taking a deep breath as he tried to catch up with everything had happened.  “When am I supposed to leave?”

“In half an hour,” Rezja said.  “Unless you had any reason to leave later, which I didn’t think you did.  Hazael and Sereth plan on going with you.”

“Sereth wants to go with me?”  Zarien raised an eyebrow.

Rezja pursed his lips.  “She didn’t volunteer for the slot if that’s what you mean,” he replied.  “But we need three people to go, and you’ve only worked with them.”

“Is Cortna coming?”

Rezja shook her head.  “I convinced her that she’d be safe here.”

“I see,” Zarien said and he took another deep breath.  “Well, as you said, there’s not much point or reason for me to stick around here much.  I’ll just grab my stuff and then I’ll be off…”  He thought for a moment.  “Once we reunite though, do you-”

“Just use your radios more,” Rezja said, smiling.  “Relay information to us through them and we can intercept them without the elves noticing.  We’ve got all the details worked out; Hazael and Sereth have a more detailed game plan since they were up last night when we got the message in.”

“I see,” Zarien said.  “Well, I’m ready to go.”

They had been flying for a couple hours since leaving the rebel ship.  It was going to be a one to two day’s journey to the old Sla’ad capitol and so they hoped to arrive there midday at least on the 12th.  Zarien looked at some of the gadgets from where he was up front with Hazael.  Sereth was in the back.  The two of them were still on almost-non-speaking terms following their disputes over Cortna.

"So,” Zarien finally said.  “I guess that they’ve found the Arglem here?”

“They think so,” Hazael replied.  “The Caves of Dragla they suspect to hold it.  They separated for unknown reason and thus used walkie-talkies.  They now rejoining together.”

“Strange that they’d separate,” Zarien mused.  “Though I guess that if they were trying to find it, then it would make sense to split up in order to cover more ground.”

After a while, Hazael leaned over toward Zarien.  “Your conflict with Sereth should end.”

Zarien bristled a bit at the notion.  “Our conflict?  Our conflict is not my fault.”

“Maybe,” Hazael replied.  “But do you really still want the fight between you when you leave?”

Zarien pursed his lips.  “I’m not the one who’s being all exclusionist and overly-protective,” he replied.  “Look—I don’t like this fight any more than you do, but I’m not the one that you should be looking at here.”

Hazael sighed before turning back to the driving controls, looking at the map as Zarien glared out the window.  If anyone was to be found at fault here, it was most definitely Sereth, the one who had started this whole thing. Him?  He didn’t have any fault in it.  None whatsoever.

“Well,” Hazael finally said in a louder voice so that Sereth could hear him.  “I hope that you can reconcile enough to accomplish our mission.  Rezja has many things he wants us to accomplish there.  We’re fighting an empire, and so unity is imperative among our ranks.  Even if you can’t be unified, maybe you can at least act like it and put a face on to inspire others.  Because betrayal and uncertainty in the ranks is the one thing that will absolutely seal the deal for our alliance.”

“The spy is ready and prepared to accomplish his side of the deal,” the Watcher said.  “Once we land, we’ll be all ready to take over.  They’re not going to know what hit them.”

“Good,” Emperor Jaigran replied, as he moved his piece on the board in the game that he was playing against the Watcher.  “Any interesting intel from him?”

“Only that which we already knew,” the Watcher replied, pondering the board.  “The Xavier Team has likewise discovered that the Arglem is likely hidden in the Caves of Dragla and are currently working to recover it.”

“Bother,” Jaigran snapped.  “How close are they to finding it?”

“Not close enough, from what the spy said,” the Watcher replied.  “They have to break through the caves a different way because of the immense landslide that the Sla’ad used and so it ought to take them a while to get in.  Besides, now that I think about it, I think it may turn out to be highly useful if they end up getting it first.”

“How so?”

“Think about it,” the Watcher replied, moving a piece.  “What do you think the Sla’ad put in there?  If they’re going to hide their whole treasure trove in this cave, you can bet that they’re going to protect it extremely well.  I’d be shocked if they hadn’t placed a whole arsenal of traps ready to trap the unsuspecting adventurer, in their attempt to make sure that no outsiders found it.  If the Xavier Team gets to it first, that only means that they get caught by the traps first.  And if they’re lucky enough to get past all of them, it still matters not.  There’s only one pathway out of the Caves of Dragla.  Once we land, all that we’ll need to do is put a heavily armed squadron around that entrance and that’s it.  They’ll be trapped like rats and will be easily exterminated.  And with the traitor on our side, they won’t know what’s coming.  They’re not going to know what’s coming until it’s too late.”

Part C: Breaking Through

Date: Kapton 11th, 114 A.U.

The traitor moved swiftly through the night, running with the radio to a secluded place, where he quickly began punching buttons before opening up the back of the radio to reveal the secret switch: the switch that changed it from receiving radio waves to sending out radio waves.  The traitor flicked it and quickly turned the dial to the right channel, taking a deep breath before beginning his call.

“Greetings,” the traitor finally said, holding down a button that initiated his voice.  “This is the Traitor of the Xavier Team, Code Name 2352 calling in.  Do you read me?”  He quickly flicked the switch back to receive input.

“This is the Watcher, Code Name 2532 responding,” the voice came crackling through.  “What do you have for me?”

The traitor flicked the switch back.  “We have decided that the most plausible place for the Arglem to be is the Caves of Dragla,” he replied.  “We suspect that the Sla’ad likely hid the Arglem there before covering it with a landslide, and then afterwards blaming it on the bombs that went off all around the capital city when the other forces attacked the city.  We are planning on rejoining with the rest of the group tomorrow and using some of the miner equipment that we have in the ship to try and break through at a different point than the rock slide, where the cave seems close to the surface.  Over.”  The traitor flicked back the switch again.

“Your information confirms the information that we already have,” the Watcher replied.  “Emperor Jaigran has received the same intel from a Sla’ad that he tortured for information.  We are currently on route to the Caves of Dragla to intercept you and to take the Arglem before the rest of the Xavier Team can.  I will do my best to arrange things so that we can reunite, and hopefully convince the Warrior to fall like his predecessor.  Are you good with our plan?  Over.”

“I am good with the plan,” the traitor replied after flicking the switch once more.  “Once we find the Arglem, I will make sure to wrest it from them before they know what is happening.  I will reveal myself once and for all that we might again reunite.  The Xavier Team will crumble before our upcoming plan.  And they have no chance of stopping it.”



It was three hours past midday and the machine was still laboriously working at the earth while Jroldin yawned.  The mechanical digger was small and it worked slowly, mostly just being in the airship in case they needed it, as they wanted some backup if they had to dig, but they hadn’t packed one powerful enough to be able to do much good, given that a more powerful digger would have taken a lot more space.  As is, they had made considerable progress in digging down into the earth in the past three hours since he had arrived with Reynyagn and Brother Tomas to show them the map for where they ought to be digging, but unfortunately it appeared that the Caves of Dragla were further down than they expected.

“So what’s going to happen when that digger finally breaks through the rock and hits the roof of the cave,” Jroldin asked, the question suddenly popping into his head.  “How are we going to keep it from just plummeting into the cavern.”

“We’re not,” Monty replied.  “We discussed this to some length before you got here with the map.  However, we don’t have enough rope that would be strong enough to hold the digger in place so that it wouldn’t fall once it hits the roof of the cave.  And so we’re just going to let it plummet into the cave.  It’ll probably break beyond repair, but there really aren’t any other options that we have.  Course—if we see when it first starts to break through and are able to turn it off before it breaks the ground apart too much, we might be able to save it, but if not, we probably won’t need it.  I’m not sure why exactly we brought it in the first place, but am glad that we did, for the rare opportunity such as this when we’ll need it.”

“So will there be traps in it?” Jroldin asked.  “I know if I was going to be burying some treasure that I’d be sure to put lots of traps around it so that no one else could sneak around and take it.”

“I’m not sure whether or not they would have, but I suspect so, following your logic,” Reynyagn replied.  “Chances are they would have put traps in place that would be able to kill many an unsuspecting treasure hunter, but they may have designed the traps in such a way so that Sla’ad wouldn’t be hurt.  We had a strong belief that our race was the race that would be the superior race able to overwhelm all others, quite similar to the belief that the elves now hold.  And so I suspect they would have put the traps in place so that Sla’ad—like me—wouldn’t be harmed.  At least, I hope that would have been the case.”

"So what do we do once we have this Arglem,” Astrid asked.  “I know that we’re not quite sure how we’ll be able to use it to defeat Emperor Jaigran, but what’s our immediate plan?  If we still have the traitor lurking among us, what are we going to do after we have it?  Are we going to need to split up again?”

“I don’t know…” Augger said.  “Although I’m hoping, although it might be quite irrational, that the Arglem may be able to shed light on this matter.  In recent days, I’ve been beginning to ponder the role of the Priest-King in all of this.  Although it would not be his only role, given that the prophesy told that there would indeed be a traitor among us, I’ve been beginning to wonder how Jroldin would factor into all of this.  As the Priest-King, I wonder if he’d be able to do something to use his priestly powers to discover the traitor by some means or another.”

"Don’t look at me!” Jroldin said, uncomfortable by all the looks that he was now getting. “I have no idea how I’m supposed to be the Priest-King in general, so I have no idea how I’m supposed to be the Priest-King in specific.  Maybe it’ll just come upon me in some way, I don’t know.  But…  I dunno.  I can’t really control my power that much.  I mean, sure I had that good idea about splitting up in the first place, but…”

“His time will come,” Brother Tomas replied.  “But in the mean time we must press on and put our trust in the Great One to discover and reveal the traitor.  For we can do nothing else.”

Part IC: Plotting the Route

Date: Kapton 9th, 114 A.U.

The Sla’ad stood before Jaigran, limply trying to keep on his feet as the Emperor stalked toward him.  Bitterly, the Sla’ad looked up at him, the scar across his face, as his eyes shot bullets at the approaching emperor.

“Murderer,” the Sla’ad whispered.  “I hate you.”

“Azjlan wouldn’t have died if you had cooperated better,” Jaigran replied.  “And I see that you are before me because you have finally relented.  Where is the Arglem?”

The Sla’ad bit his lips before finally answering.  “We hid the Arglem in a treasure trove with the rest of the great treasures of the Sla’ad,” he finally forced out.  “We hid them in the famed Caves of Dragla and then sent a landslide over the opening to seal it off.”

"I see…” Jaigran said.  “You have done well to finally relinquish your information.  And what of the Sla’ad who haunts me?”

“What?”

“The Sla’ad who hunts me—who is always stalking me—always in the shadows—looking for its chance to attack me,” Jaigran spat.  “The Sla’ad you have appointed as an assassin.  What of him?”

The Sla’ad’s eyes grew large.  “I—I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he cried out.  “I have never heard of any such thing—we were never close enough to the Mothership to try to send an assassin up to kill you.  I swear, Emperor—I am innocent concerning this matter!  I know nothing of it!”

“I see,” Jaigran murmured, before looking back up at the guards.  “I have no use for this pitiful wrench.  Send him to the labor camps, but make sure to log which labor camp you send him to in case I need to speak with him again.  Take him away.”  The Sla’ad slumped in resignation as the guards dragged him away.  Jaigran let them go before quickly running to his table where all the maps and books were laid out.  The fabled Caves of Dragla.  So, it would appear that the explanation that they had been destroyed during their bombardment of the capital city of the Sla’ad was wrong.  No.  If the wretched Sla’ad was correct, than they were purposefully buried by Sla’ad seeking to hide their hidden treasure.  All the pieces were falling into place.  The last thing that remained was to plan his course to the Caves of Dragla, to take the Arglem for himself.

Kapton 10th, 114 A.U.

The Watcher waited as the ship came into the Mothership, docking before the door slowly opened and he stepped out, accompanied by two guards on either side.  He looked back with satisfaction to see a very faint shadow playing behind him on the floor.  He was only able to gain a shadow after his times of rejuvenation, a shadow which quickly disappeared, but which was useful nonetheless.  Striding forward, the Watcher didn’t leave the launch dock before he noticed Emperor Jaigran making for him, six guards accompanying him—four of them with lights to dispel all of the shadows.  The amount which the Emperor had degraded into believing this vain superstition disturbed and disgusted him to a certain extent, but there was little that he could do about it.

“Greetings, Emperor Jaigran,” the Watcher said.  “It is nice for you to be the one to find me, rather than me searching for you.”

“Yes,” he replied, rather absent-mindedly.  “How was the trip?”

“Your forces ought to be making heads-way in the battle against the goblins shortly, possibly by today,” the Watcher replied. “The priest who is convinced that I’m his god has been consolidating support, and I’ve arranged things to make a humiliating defeat for the goblins by your hands.  What of you?”

“We have successfully taken the information from the captive Sla’ad,”  Emperor Jaigran replied.  “According to him, the Arglem was hidden in the Caves of Dragla before they were sealed in with a massive rockslide.  I have a ship ready for us to immediately leave.”

The Watcher’s eyes sparked and he stared at the Emperor.  “The ship is ready now—to immediately leave?” he asked.  “Why such the urgency to find it?”



“We already know from your spy that you implanted in the Xavier Team that they are searching for the Arglem,” he replied.  “We can’t risk the chance of them getting to it before us.”

“I see,” the Watcher said, pursing his lips, as his mind ran through the information.  “Very well.  We must be of haste in order to claim the Arglem before they have.  What size airship do you have?”

“We have a Class III warship,” Emperor Jaigran replied.  “And three regiments of guards to go along with us.”

“Three regiments of guards?” the Watcher asked.  “Why so many?”

“If the Xavier Team is also looking for the Arglem and our paths happen to again cross, I’m not taking any risks,” he snapped.  “They nearly killed me in Yippah because I wasn’t prepared.  I’m not going to find myself in the same position again.  We have enough guards at the Mothership, and so we’re taking three regiments with us.”

“Very well,” the Watcher replied.  “You have prepared well for this trip; I’m impressed.”

"Well, I wasn’t the Emperor because of nothing when you chose me,” he reminded him.  “As essential as you are to our plan to destroy Arquenia, I am quite adept enough to prepare for my own affairs.”

“Quite true,” the Watcher said.  “Now where is this ship that you mentioned?  We must leave at once.”

“It’s two docks down from this one,” he replied.  “Let us therefore go and take the Arglem.  And so get a step closer to victory.” 

Question of the Day: How will the Watcher influence the traitor to accomplish his goal?

Part XCVIII: Under Mountain

Kapton 10th, 114 A.U.

“If I was a buried treasure, where would I hide myself…” Flek mumbled.

“Or where would you hide one, if you were an evil Sla’ad king,” Monty replied.  “Honestly, we’ve just been wandering around in circles.  I have no idea where we are going to be able to find it.”  They were all sitting on a ledge on one of the mountains that they had been searching the past few days, and had come up empty.

“If I was a Sla’ad king…” Hagion mumbled, thinking carefully.  “I mean, it’s not like he had many options about where to hide it.  They hadn’t lost complete control of the air yet, but they were still carting several treasures around, and they had to be doing all of this in secret.”

“Why didn’t they just bury it under the palace?” Flek asked.  “Maybe-”

“The Sla’ad who was sitting at those meetings told us it was hidden in the mountains,” Augger replied.  “And with them in danger of being bombed out, I’d doubt they’d hide it close to where the main fighting was.  It would have had to be a secretive attempt, but they had to bury it somehow.”

“They didn’t have much time,” Hagion replied.  “From the beginning of the siege to when we finally broke in was a relatively short amount of time.  If they had carted over lots of heavy equipment, we would have noticed.  We were attempting to keep a tight surveillance on this area.”
“Of course, Sla’ad tend to be able to blend in and not be as visible given their dark forms,” Monty mused.  “And if they were trying to do this in quick order, then I’d suspect that they might have found a large cave with a narrow opening to try and hide these in so that they wouldn’t have to do all the work of making their own little catacomb.”

“Of course!” Hagion said, jumping up.  “It makes complete sense now!  The Caves of Dragla.”

“The caves of what?”

“The Caves of Dragla!” Hagion said.  “They were a well-known network of caves in these mountains that had been a fairly well-populated tourist attraction until, after the war, they appeared to collapse after all the bombs that went off and the fighting.  They would have been a perfect place to hide treasure.  Especially if you closed off the entrance to the caves first.”

“Do you know where the caves are?”

“Not exactly, but they were in Dragla Mountain,” Hagion said confidently.  “Somewhat near the bottom.  And so we have to be able to find the entrance there.”

The team stared at what looked like to be a large landslide on the mountain as Hagion slowly nodded his head.  “Yep,” he said.  “This is it.  This is where the Caves of Dragla once were.”

“Well, at least we found them,” Flek said.  “But how are we supposed to get through into the caves?  That’s a massive landslide right there!  To get through that landslide is going to cover some machinery—machinery that we don’t have, I might add.”

“To get through the landslide, yes,” Hagion mused.  “But not if we decide to enter the caves by another way.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Caves of Dragla went all over the place and was a whole series of caves and tunnels,” Hagion replied.  “There may be another cave that’s closer to the surface which we could just dig down to.  I did see some machine in the aircraft that we had that would help us in digging.  We just need a map of the caves.”

“I’ll call Reynyagn then,” Augger replied.  “If there are any maps to be found, we’ll be able to find them in the city.”

“That was Reynyagn,” Augger replied as he put his walkie talkie back into his bag.  “He just called to say that he was able to find a map of the Caves of Dragla.  We decided that it would be too complicated for him to try to direct us how to find it while he’s over there, so, since he’s been doing nothing for the past couple days, unable to find any good leads in the ransacked palace, he and Jroldin and Brother Tomas are going to be coming to re-join us.”

“Is that safe?” Number 994 asked nervously.  “I mean, if one of us is the traitor-“

“Well, given that they haven’t been able to find any information from where they are, we really don’t have any reason to continue separate,” Augger replied.  “They’re going to have to come here.  And once we breach the opening of the Caves of Dragla, well—then we will be able to figure out what we should do about the traitor.”

Question of the Day: What are they going to do about the traitor?

Part XCVII: Ambassador

Date: Kornun 29th, 114 A.U.

Melor slowly walked past the Noon-Stone and past the hall of thrones toward the white gates of the Watcher.  The room was empty as Melor stepped forward, preparing himself to do the unthinkable—to trespass into sacred ground in order to find out what happened to the Watcher.  Slowly, Melor put a hand on the doors and opened them.  Brilliant light filled his eyes and he stepped inside.

Melor blinked.  This hadn’t been what he expected.  He stood on a roadway that cycled down into some central chamber.  All around him was a black void, although the white stones glowed.  Melor turned to see the doors behind him.  According to popular folktale and sayings, the place of the Watcher was supposed to be ethereal.  Melor had expected his body to be destroyed upon entering, but it still lived.

And that troubled Melor.

Slowly, Melor walked down the road, which cycled down in a spiral first around empty space, and then curled into the cylinder chamber.  An arch marked the way in, and Melor entered.  Lights lit up as he entered the hallway, which curled around the outside of the cylinder.  Writing could be seen on the wall as well as drawings which Melor slowly read as he passed through before he realized what it was.  The Prophecies of Xavier.  There was the whole prophesy at first, the prophesy about the Priest-King, and then other prophecies that Melor had never seen nor heard of before.  He paused, searching through his vault of memory but came up void about these other prophecies—the Prophecy of the Healer, the Prophesy of the Warrior.  When had Xavier written these?  Melor was troubled, but he continued going down the descending hall until the inside wall opened up and Melor could step in and see the chamber that he was in.  Ornate carvings detailed on the walls—scenes of famous events in Arquenian history.  Melor would have stayed and gazed at the drawings for hours on end, but he had work to do.  Moving down the hall, now a balcony that curled around the outer edge of the cylinder, Melor finally came down to the bottom to see what was there.  In the center of the chamber stood a circular stone.  Seven indented regions circled a swirling blue void in the center of the stone, although Melor couldn’t figure out what the regions were for.  Melor looked around, and, seeing nothing, slowly placed one hand against the void.

Who are you?  All of Melor’s senses went black as Melor found himself in nothingness, a voice speaking to him.

I am Melor, representative of the auggers!  Melor cried.  I have come in search of the Sixth Watcher.

There was a pause before the being again spoke.  What do you want with me?

I have come to ask for your guidance and aid, Melor replied.  For centuries we have come to you for help but have received no answer.  And so I have come to discover why you have remained silent and if you would be willing to help us.  After millennia of working perfectly, the Noon-Stone has begun to decay, the beam not hitting at the right place and so we have begun to worry about the fate of our planet.  Might you help us, O Sixth Watcher?

There was silence before the Sixth Watcher spoke.  You should not have come here.

I apologize profusely for treading on your sacred ground, Melor replied.  But we had no other choice given your silence.  Nevertheless, I cry out for pardon.

You cry out in vain, Melor of the auggers.  I know why the Noon-Stone has broken.  I am the cause for it and by my edict the Noon-Beam is signaling your coming destruction.  All your pleas to me will come in vain.  I have already chosen my vessel to herald the coming of a new age.  And you are not part of it.  Burning pain exploded through Melor’s mind as Melor cried out in blackness.  And then his consciousness slowly faded from reality.

Kapton 6th, 114 A.U.

“It has been seven days, and Melor has not returned,” Grandine said solemnly.  “Because he has not returned, although I do accept that time might indeed flow differently in the habitation of the Sixth Watcher, we cannot wait any longer.  The Noon-Beam has continued to fluctuate and so we must accomplish the second stage of our plan by sending an augger to the mainland of Arquenia to learn what has happened and find an answer for the changing Noon-Beam.”

“I agree,” Yarvil said solemnly.  “Whether by committing sacrilege, or by discovering that the Sixth Watcher is no more and there is to be no more escape from that place, Melor has not returned, and we cannot wait any longer for him.  We must indeed find an augger strong, brave, wise, and talented to go to the mainland of Arquenia and discover what the other races have done there since they rejected this place.”

“Do we have any nominations, then, for which augger might best fit this task?” Grandine asked.

“I nominate Ranvier,” Tragun, keeper of the Noon-Stone, replied.  “Coming from a rich lineage of auggers before him, Ranvier has delved into his memory enough to be wiser than most, although he doesn’t delve into it as deeply as some like Yarvil have.  He has shown himself to be brave and strong in the encounter with the Seabeasts, and has a determined heart that will stick true to the task.”

  “Are there any other nominations?” Grandine asked.  Silence fell over the room.  “We shall bring this matter to a vote then.  All for Ranvier being our nomination to the Arquenian mainland?”

“Aye!” a chorus of voices shouted.

“And opposed?”  There was silence.

“The motion passes,” Grandine announced.  “Ranvier will be our ambassador to the Arquenian mainland.  And may he discover the secret of the Noon-Beam.”

Question of the Day: What will Ranvier first do upon arriving at the homeland of Arquenia?

Part XCVI: Discouraged Hopes

Date: Kapton 7th, 114 A.U.

It was the skeletons that first met them as they first entered into the city.  Bombed-out depressions littered the ground around it, the front gates of the city blasted open.  Skeletons fell all around, casualties of war that had never been buried.  As they came into the gates, they faced the ruins of a city ravaged by war and time, buildings broken down and bombed out, and then left to decay into ruin.  The palace of the Sla’ad still stood, but as they came closer to the chief palace, they saw that it had been ransacked and glutted by the troops that came in, many of the fancy ornaments that might otherwise be on it having been taken off long ago.

“I would have expected the palace to be hit more heavily,” Jroldin was saying.

“The Sla’ad evacuated the city before that,” Reynyagn replied.  “Although it may not seem like it, the palace is a military arsenal.  Hordes of machine guns and anti-aircraft missiles were lodged within, though concealed from plain sight.  It was the primary defense of the city back in the day, but when it became clear that it was not enough, they evacuated the city.”

“I see,” Jroldin replied.  “Are we exploring it then?”

"If we are to find traces of the Arglem anywhere, it would be in here,” Reynyagn said.  “The discussions took place in this palace, and so I would think that any hint of where it might be would be found in here.  They would have had to kept diagrams or maps of where it is somewhere.”

“Unless they burned them or disposed of them by some other means,” Brother Tomas reminded him. 

“Yes,” Reynyagn said.  “We are indeed hoping that they did not dispose of them—at least not completely.  It’s a shot in the dark at best.  But it’s our best shot.  And since we have to be apart from the other group, we have to do something.  And given that there’s just three of us here, well—we won’t be wasting a lot of manpower at this.”


“The tourist’s guide to the Sla’ad Palace,” Brother Tomas murmured, flipping through some of the pages.  “Look at this!”

“Yes,” Reynyagn said, running over.  “It was a bit of a tourist attraction in spare time, although only a few floors were open to the public.  I know that the defense systems were apart from the area open to the public, but we might be able to find something to help us.”

“Looks like the throne room was here,” Jroldin said, pointing.

“Ah yes,” Reynyagn replied.  “The throne room.  The throne was actually removed a couple decades before the city was destroyed since it wasn’t comfortable enough and they wanted to renovate it into an office similar to the ones that the other rulers had, but the name still stuck.  That might be the best place to go.”


“Ransacked.  Utterly ransacked.”

“I suppose it isn’t too surprising,” Brother Tomas responded.  “Given that this was indeed the main command center of the Sla’ad, I suspect they had a lot of buttons in here and other important papers that were kept here that the attackers decided to take.”

“Aye—though they didn’t have to take everything in it,” Reynyagn replied, putting his hand on the bare walls.  “But I suppose this option is taken out.  What other important rooms can you find on the map?”

“Just lots of reception rooms or museum rooms, or other rooms that really have no relevance to our goals here,” Brother Tomas said, frowning.  “It points out a couple of staircases that lead up into the restricted areas though, so I guess that’s where we’re going to want to be heading.”

“And unfortunately, I don’t think we could find any maps up there,” Reynyagn mused.  “It’s not like you’d have maps of the entire facility.”

“If it was partially stationed as a military camp, you might,” Brother Tomas pointed out.  “I know that there are maps in some of our military structures back in Araelia, so we might be able to find something like that on the walls here.”

“True enough,” Reynyagn replied as they exited the room, going to the nearest staircase.  “I do hope that we are able to find something up there, though.  To do all of this searching and not to be able to find anything would be rather disappointing.”

“I’m afraid that we might have to be disappointed already,” Jroldin commented. “Look.”  Reynyagn looked up to see a staircase leading up.  The door was open, and a previous security keypad that would have required a password to get into was blasted open.

“I see,” Reynyagn said, pursing his lips.  “The attackers one hundred years ago were a step ahead of us.  It’s unlikely that we’ll be able to find anything up there.  But we can hope.”


“I couldn’t find anything in my section,” Jroldin said discouragedly, again meeting up with the rest of the group.  “Everything of importance was ransacked, and anything behind was either furniture that didn’t have any hidden drawers or anything, or just litter that the soldiers left when breaking in.”

“My section was the same,” Brother Tomas replied.  “I’m afraid that our searching here has been mostly a wasted effort.”

"Hopefully the other team will have gotten further then,” Reynyagn replied.  “Because our searching here?  Well, it seems to have been a wasted effort.”

Part XCV: Abrasive Clashes

Date: Kapton 7th, 114 A.U.

Zarien waited as his ship pulled into the docking base of the rebel’s homeship before stepping out, side-by-side with Hazael as they walked down the corridor to give the debriefing to Rezja.  He had been out for the past week-and-a-half gathering intel and secretly visiting their rebel bases in three different places, finding out what they had and restocking them with weapons.  This was the kind of work Zarien liked doing—actually doing something physically meaningful rather than going on treasure hunts for the Arglem. 

Zarien didn’t regret his decision to join the Xavier Team, but he’d much rather to be able to physically see the work and progress he was making with material gain as they continued to build up the network of elven and orcish rebels against the Emperor rather than trying to find various objects to help defeat him.  They entered into the main chamber as Rezja was discussing something with Sereth.  She sent a sideways glance their way as Rezja looked up to see them.

“Ah, greetings!” Rezja said.  “How did the mission go?”

“The mission went well,” Zarien said.  “We’ve compiled our reports on the three rebel groups we visited and have sent them into the database that you can access.  We have likewise given them all the weapons that they requested and things seem to be running well.”

“Good,” Rezja said.  “We just got word back from Lord Freglak after sending a message to him at your request, Zarien.  He has agreed to ally with us and to assist each other in whatever means necessary.  Sereth and I were just preparing and figuring out which information would be the most beneficial for him to use.”

“I see,” Zarien said, looking at the files at the computer next to the two of them. 

“The goblin lord send us a strange reply,” Sereth said.  “He’s very demanding as well.”

“Nevertheless, his assistance will be quite invaluable to our cause,” Rezja replied.  “I just wish that we would be able to get people down to get in touch with the Resistance soon.  As of yet, we have been met with a lot of difficulty in contacting them.”

“They have a quite elaborate security system,” Zarien replied.  “I’ve seen it, so I know.  Didn’t look into it with much detail though, so I have no idea how to contact them.”  After briefly going over the details of what happened in their trip, the trio left, leaving Rezja alone to sort out which information would be the most useful to Freglak.  Exiting the chamber, they came to an intersection in the hall.

“I head over to mess hall,” Hazael said.  “You come, Zarien?”

Zarien shook his head.  “I’d like to be able to talk to Cortna first as I haven’t seen her in two weeks, seeing as I didn’t get to see her before we left.”

Sereth bit her lip.  “Fine,” she finally said.  “I’ll bring you to our room, Zarien.  We’ll meet up with you soon, Hazael.”  And with that, they walked down the hallway as they parted company from Hazael.  Zarien couldn’t see why Sereth was so annoyed at his request.  What was so wrong about wanting to talk to Cortna?  For some reason, ever since they had first met, Sereth seemed to have something against Zarien and seemed to be rather possessive of her sister.  Zarien still couldn’t figure her out.

Stopping at one of the doors, Sereth fiddled in her pockets for a key and then, fishing it out, unlocked the door to walk into it.  Cortna was sitting on a stool, a paint brush in her hand, intermittently jabbing at the canvas in front of her before getting more paint on the brush.  Zarien looked at the garbled mess of a drawing that she had made, which looked close to being an actual picture of something, but garbled enough that Zarien couldn’t make out what it was,

“What-“ Zarien began.

“It’s one of the therapy methods that one of our doctors suggested she do to bide the time,” Sereth said quickly.  “Supposed to make her use the other side of the brain more instead of being all strict and programmed on account of Jaigran’s redoctoring.  It would be best not to disturb her.”

Zarien stepped forward, leaning to the side to catch a glimpse of Cortna’s eyes as she stared intently at the canvas in front of her, moving the paint brush to grab more paint before jabbing again at the canvas.

“Hello Cortna,” Zarien said.  Cortna turned to stare blankly at him before looking back at the canvas.

“Don’t disturb her!” Sereth reminded him.

“I haven’t seen her in weeks,” Zarien said, stepping closer to Cortna. 

“So?!”  Sereth hissed.  “That doesn’t mean you can just barge in here and demand your own way.”

“I’m not doing that,” Zarien said defensively.  “I just want to be able to talk to her; maybe I’ll be able to help.”

Sereth simmered.  “Fine.  Go ahead.  Talk to her.”

“Can’t we have some privacy?” Zarien asked.  He knew what to try to talk to Cortna about, what might make her the most likely to remember him, but he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it while Sereth was hovering like a raven ready to swoop down on her prey.

“This is my room,” Sereth said through gritted teeth.  “What do you want to tell her that I can’t listen to?  This is my sister after all.”

“We had been ‘dating’ for a couple months before she was captured,” Zarien reminded her.  “You’re not the only one that can lay a claim to her.”

“Oh yes, so you just get to come in her and usurp authority from me,” Sereth snapped.  “You know—all you did for her was to allow her to get captured and re-doctrinated by the Emperor.  I’m the one who saved her from her captivity.”

“You think I’m to blame for that?!” Zarien retorted.  “We were a group—a faithful alliance back in the Mothership.  I lost my leg because of what I was doing.  We all went into the situation well aware of the dangers that we’d be risking as part of a rebel group, just like you took risks to join this one.”

“I’m the one who saved her, and I’m going to make sure that she recovers,” Sereth said.  “And just because you might have been dating her before she got indoctrinated, that doesn’t mean that you can just barge in right now and take control.”

“You think I’m barging in?” Zarien asked.  “Look, is my request really so hard?  I just want to be able to see Cortna and be able to talk to her without you always ready to seize on whatever words I say.  Is that really too hard to ask?”

“Yes,” Sereth snapped.  “Now if you want to say something, say it now.”

Zarien’s expression darkened.  “Fine.  Be that way, Sereth,” he snapped, marching to the door. “Fill her mind with everything you want and refuse to let anyone else help.  You know, I did think we were allies here.  But no—Sereth just wants her own way, like she always does.  Well you can just be that way.  Show how selfish you are without any cost.  You know—I lost my leg in my battle against the Emperor.  Your sister lost her mind.  It would be nice for you to show some self-sacrifice for a change.”