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 XCIV: Swirling Smoke

Date: Kapton 4th, 114 A.U.

Flek.  Flek’s hair stood on end and then he whispered his reply, in a voice low enough so that the other’s around couldn’t hear him.

“What?”

Our alliance is having some unintended side effects that I’m worried of.

The voice sounded more compassionate than usual.  “What kind of effects?”

Didn’t you hear what Jroldin said last night?  The ‘demon’ may not be physical, but it could be.  And though I’m not a demon, words are figurative.  And I could very well be the one who will unintendedly make you the traitor.  Have you not thought of this?

“I…  I have considered it…” Flek said slowly.

We can’t let this break the bond, Flek, the voice said coldly.  You still need me, even as I need you.  But we are might be able to lessen the effects.

“What do you mean?”

I will depart from you with a portion of my spirit and only leave the part that makes you as skilled of a fighter as you are, the portion that gives you unbelievable skill.  But I will not speak or communicate, or use your body anymore until the traitor is found it.  We can’t risk it otherwise.

Flek pursed his lips.  “Very well.”

Kapton 5th, 114 A.U.

Astrid sat up in bed, blood chilled, as her cold arms grasped the metal railing on her bed before she caught her breath again.  Only a dream.  It was only a dream.  For the ninth time in the past couple months, she had had another dream concerning her murder of the man in Araelia, an event which she had tried to block out of her memory for the most part.  But it was still occurring. 

Astrid left her sleeping quarters into the empty main room of the ship as she looked out the glass windows at the darkness around the ship, where it rested on the ground.  After nearly being suicidal after the murder and on the brink of leaving Araelia forever, she had gotten caught up in the whole Xavier Team ordeal and had been distracted from having to deal with the consequences for her actions.  She had almost forgotten about it.  But her subconscious mind still remembered.  And the dreams haunted her.

“I didn’t want to,” Astrid whispered, as she placed her hand against the cold glass, wishing not for the first time in her life that she had made a different choice there, that her old choice could be undone.  But there was no forgiveness for her—no way to make it that her sin never happened.  And though Monty claimed that the Great One offered forgiveness and a way to start a fresh life, Astrid still wasn’t fully convinced that he was right. 

Kapton 6th, 114 A.U.

“So this is it,” Jroldin said as he looked up and down at the ruins of the city nestled in the crag of the mountains.

“This is it,” Reynyagn said.  “The former capitol city of the Sla’ad Empire.  It was a glorious city back in the day, albeit one that was swamped with the corruption of the tyrannic king.”

“I suppose there’s no reason not to do it now, then,” Augger said.  “If we are going to split up, we might as well do it now.”

“Yes,” Reynyagn said softly.  “Augger and I have the radios, and so I suppose it’s better to do it sooner rather than later.  Hagion will work with Augger and his team on going around the neighboring mountains with the information that Hagion was able to give us about the troop movements and the strategic decisions made when attacking the chief city, and I’ll go with the other group to investigate the city itself and what traces of the Arglem we can find there.”  And after bidding each other farewell, the two groups separated, on their separate ways on course to find the Arglem.

“The Sla’ad couldn’t have had their treasure trove on that half of this mountainous area,” Hagion was saying as he gestured toward part of it.  Our troops were primarily in this direction and had its extremities on that mountain and this one.  So unless they chose to undergo severe risks to place it on our side, it likely is beyond us, closer to where the mountains reach the sea at the end of the Sla’ad empire.”

“Which mountains is the most likely?” Flek asked.

“The further away from the battle lines, the more likely I think they’d be,” Hagion said.  “I’d almost wonder if the trove was placed in one of the mountains adjacent to the sea, though the sea is miles away from the city, if only because if part of their back-up plan was to escape by ship, then the trove would be right next to them and on their path of departure.”

“The Sla’ad we spoke to never seemed to give the impression that escape by ship was an actual option,” Augger commented.  “Actually, just remembering what he said, he indicated that the sea was mostly controlled and watched by the dwarven fleets and that was why there wasn’t any escape that way.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Hagion said.  “Just needed to jog my memory a bit there.  Yes, the Sla’ad were caught between two opposing forces on land and sea, and the elves very much controlled the air, even at that time before the Great Upheaval, so that there was not only nowhere to run, but few places to hide it as well.”

“It would have to be invisible to those in the air as well,” Monty said.  “Mayhaps in the pits of the mountains we’d have a better chance of finding it.”

“Further down and further in then,” Astrid said.  And so they went.

Part XCIII: Shifting Momentum

Date: Kapton 10th, 144 A.U.

“High Priest Jaine is now taking the stage,” the newscaster announced as the camera flashed to him.  “The weights and expectations of many are now looming after Myrik’s strange disappearance which some who still cling to the faith in the Mothertree claim was her act.  We now turn it over to our reports at their scene as they record Jaine’s remarks.”

“We are gathered here again at the request of the Mothertree,” Jaine said, beginning in a soft voice as Lord-Protector Freglak watched with narrow eyes at the television screen.  “The Mothertree has spoken again, calling us to listen to her as she reveals her will through me.  Your leaders have deserted you, having deserted her herself long ago.  We fight a losing battle against the elves, lost already because our leaders have abandoned their faith in the Old Weapons.  They have forsaken the weapons of old, and we will fall by their might.  Do you hear the words of the Mothertree?  No victory can be wrought with the Old Weapons.”

"We’re beating the elves!” someone from the crowd cried.

Jaine turned toward them.  “Are we?” he whispered.  “Are we?  Behold, a battle rages this day.  And I tell you the truth—a truth to those who came here looking for a sign, for some exciting miracle from the Mothertree.  This is the word of the Mothertree for you, O sign-seekers.  Beyond all expectations, our forces will lose their winning streak today.  The battle that rages today will be a catastrophic defeat for our forces—the sign of the Mothertree that we are helpless without her. Hear the Word of the Mothertree!”

Lord Freglak leapt up.  Was Jaine really so stupid so as to base his ambitions on a guess?  Or did he know more than he should about this situation?  A knot began to form in his stomach, and he raced for his phone.

The first onslaught of elves at their cliff was beaten back easily.  Major Erklen looked with pride and their anti-aircraft weapons that had so beautifully beaten back the first wave of elven troops—and they hadn’t needed the dragon’s assistance!  After Flindle had nearly lost control of it, Major Erklen had been trying to keep it back and unused as long as they didn’t need it to win.  They couldn’t afford another setback.

His phone rang and he picked it up.  “Yes?”

“Erklen?  This is Lord-Protector Freglak!” the voice boomed in.  “Listen—I need you to be absolutely prepared for the elves.  High Priest Jaine has just predicted that the elves are going to launch an assault on you today and completely overwhelm you.”

“They just began it,” Erklen said, looking at the next wave of airships coming up from the desert.  “But you needn’t listen to the prattling concerns of a deposed priest.  He has no power anymore.”

“I’ve told you before about the so-called ‘miracles’ he has wrought,” Freglak said.  “We can’t take any risks!”

"I’ll play it safe,” Major Erklen said.  And after Freglak gave him one last warning, Major Erklen shut his phone.  The missiles went out again, streaking toward the elven airships that again too easily failed to avoid them and were horribly shot down.  The elves were complete fools—this would be an easy assault to put down.  The third wave came up and Erklen nodded his head.

Suddenly, there was a roaring and Major Erklen turned to the side to see a whole battalion of airships coming from the side—in a part of the desert the elves had never set up camp before.  A whole legion of elven reinforcements were behind them—how had this gone unnoticed?

“Unleash the Elder Dragon!” Major Erklen roared as he ran back from the front line.  “The elves have got in reinforcements!  All hands to the guns to repel the enemy!”

There was a roar, and the Elder Dragon burst up through the trees, Flindle on his back, as he watched Flindle guide it toward the approaching onslaught.  Guns went off and Erklen watched as the elven forces fought back.  The first two waves had been a feint, Erklen clearly saw—a chance to get them to waste their ammo.  Now trying to avoid the missiles, the attackers quickly took out many of their missiles as the Elder Dragon kept back the other flank.

There was another roar from the Elder Dragon and Erklen narrowed his eyes as he watched them fight.  Something was wrong.  The Elder Dragon seemed a bit off—too unpredictable and seeming to go every which way, tossing and turning so as to escape.  And then it broke. 

Wheeling away from the aircraft it shot out hard towards their defenses, breathing fire as it decimated a whole squad of goblin gunners in an instant.  With a yell Erklen sprinted away from the fire just in time to see the dragon wheel and snap its whole body, trying to dislodge Flindle, but failing.  As the goblin aircraft came out, the Elder Dragon surged towards them, breaking them in pieces as the elves came in behind.

“Get control of the Elder Dragon!” Major Erklen roared into its walkie-talkie toward Flindle.  “Take it down at all costs!”

The phone rang and Lord-Protector Freglak moved to grab it.  It was Erklen.

“Yes?” Lord Freglak asked.  “What do you have to report to me, Major?”

“The elves,” Major Erklen gasped out through it.  “They got in reinforcements that we hadn’t noticed before, Freglak!  We were completely unprepared for this assault!  And the Elder Dragon got loose again!”

Lord Freglak’s heart chilled.  “What are you saying, Erklen?”

“It was a rout—a bloody routing of our forces, Lord Freglak!  We didn’t stand a chance against them.  By the time Flindle regained control of the Elder Dragon, it was too late.  We have been pushed back from the cliffs back to our previous line of defense in the forest.  And from what we see, the elves just got a whole new load of reinforcements following after the battle.  I completely failed to see it coming, Lord Freglak.  I-”

Freglak shut the phone, cutting Erklen off and stared at the wall in numbness.  They had been pushed back, fine.  They could lose a battle every once in a while.  But High Priest Jaine had been right.  Beyond explanation, he had known what was going to happen.

And for the first time in his life, Freglak began to doubt his unbelief in the Mothertree.

Part XCII: Moving On

Date: Kapton 3rd, 114 A.U.

It was approaching midday when the aircraft with the rest of the Xavier Team finally arrived.  Flek, Astrid, Monty, Number 994, and Hagion stood and watched as the airship came to land in the midst of the ruins of the Fortress of Varasheet, the sight of the great slaughter that had commenced when the last of the Sla’ad were finally routed, and when Jaigran finally broke and gave into the passions that were fueled within him.

“Greetings,” Reynyagn said, disembarking.  “It is good to meet you.  Where is-”

“Zarien was captured by the elves,” Monty said quietly as Reynyagn’s companions came around behind him.  “Hagion has been immensely helpful in figuring out where the Arglem might be…  But we have grievous news about our party as well.”

“So.  Zarien is captured, there’s a spy in the midst of us, but we have a pretty good ball park for the Arglem?” Brother Tomas asked, confirming what they had just discussed over dinner.

“Yes, as well as your information about the Mothership,” Flek replied.  “Hagion here has confessed to hearing as much from the officials.  There isn’t any way to get around it.  We have a spy in the midst of our half of the group.”  Silence fell over the crowd.

“It has to be your half?” Reynyagn said quietly.  “It couldn’t be that-”

“No,” Flek responded.  “From what we’ve found from Hagion and from what happened, they knew the intricacies of the plan too well.  It couldn’t be from something we told you, and it isn’t possible that someone else intercepted the airwaves and betrayed us, though that could have also happened.  Of the five of us: Astrid, Monty, Number 994, Zarien, and I—one of us is a traitor.”

“The rising hope must rise if it will destroy the darkness,” Augger whispered.  “Two leaders from among them will seek to lead them as one. Although in unity, yet one from the group may rebel.  The traitor seeks to undermine what all their work have wrought.  His struggle with the demon will determine victory. It’s all recorded in the prophesy.”

“A demon,” Reynyagn remarked.  “What demon do we struggle with?”

“The word was not used then as it is used now,” Augger replied.  “Back then, the word was not used literally as much as it was used to signify a burning desire—a evil desire fueled in the persons heart that was their chief vice which they had to conquer.  What the prophesy is saying is that one of us is struggling with something.  And that our success depends on whether or not they win, or the ‘demon’ inside of them wins.  This is the struggle that I believe the Emperor struggled with.  He lost, and so I believe that although for a short time it appeared that the Xavier Team had won, it has become all too apparent that they lost epicly.”

"What are we to do then?”

“What can we do?” Jroldin asked.  “If the prophesy is true, and I do believe it to be true—then we don’t have much of a choice here.  Or at least—only one of us has the choice.  Someone here is a traitor among us.  His course isn’t set in stone, but he will have to decide whether or not he is going to go over to the passions that is committing him against us, or if he will reject it and fight with us.  The only solution for the traitor who now sits among us is to turn back from the course that he has begun to set himself to and beat back the desires inside of him.  What other choice do we have? 

“We can let our group take the lead since none of us can be the traitor.  and leave the others in the dark, but what will that gain us?  There are two leaders among us that the prophesy indicates will seek to unify the group, whom I believe are Reynyagn and Augger.  Why were we given two leaders?  Nothing in the Xavier Prophesy has been said with no reason.  We were given two leaders so that we might be able to damper the traitor, to keep him down until he can change his mind and stop betraying us.  We must split into two halves, Reynyagn leading the one and Augger leading the other.  They are both beyond reproach and will act as the two who correspond with each other.  We have been given a ballpark from Hagion on where the Arglem might be.  We must now function separately, as we have done in order to get this far, in order to secure it.”

“You have indeed mastered the prophesy…” Reynyagn murmured.  “What you have said is evident now that I look back.  We must keep the traitor as much under control as we can until he can repent, if that is to be his goal.”

“And what about Zarien?” Astrid asked.  “He’s been captured and is already at the Mothership by now.  What are we to do with him?”

“Nothing, if we are to refrain from sabotaging the entire mission,” Reynyagn said softly.  “We have to trust the prophesy and the Great One to guide him back to us.  To rescue him would require us infiltrating the Mothership, a task which we are woefully unprepared to do.  Our only chance will arise once the other Sla’ad finish the blueprints they have been compiling of the MOthership, and by that it may as well be too late.”  Number 994 stared at the ground.

It was dark as Number 994 stared at the canopy of the tent above him, his heart beating as he tried to keep back the impulses and the whispers that were arising inside of him.  How else could they have been betrayed?  He had put his full mind in key with the computers as part of his job of making sure none of the alarm systems went off at the prison camp.  He had heard that it was possible before—that he would have to have absolute concentration in order to keep his thoughts from running out into the systems he would be working with.  And he had known all of the plans.

He still had not completely decided what to do with the Xavier Team.  After the long journey south from the Northlands, he had been reconciled so much with Zarien, and he had seen their efforts so much that he had nearly been on the breaking point of mentally abolishing Emperor Jaigran for good and being in full heart and spirit with the Xavier Team.  But now it seemed like he was already marked as the traitor—that he was already unconsciously fueling them with information.  And if he couldn’t stop himself from betraying his teammates then, how was he to stop himself now?

Question of the Day: Conspiracy Theory time!  What is your conspiracy theory about the Arquenia Saga?

Pts!  Warbaron: 20, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1

Part XCI: Whirling Clouds

Date: Kapton 2nd, 114 A.U.

Oldin wearily sat down at his desk, his eyes glancing at the new watch that sat on his hand.  It had come out a week ago and had quickly become the rage of Araelia, nearly selling out in a couple of days, although the company promised that they had more coming.  Not only a watch, it also was able to access your cell phone and form a holographic image of the person you were talking to, if they were also using the watch.  And as a result of an impressively large and successful ad campaign, the C-Watches were all the rage.  And Oldin, though he generally didn’t pay much attention to fads, had liked the technology enough that he had fitted his whole team with them. 

Oldin quickly brought up the files showing their tracking on the mysterious elf group that had been sabotaging their every effort to track it down.  The group still seemed to be connected with the inexplicable heart attacks that had now killed ten of their best men.  It had gone up far too much to be a mere coincidence; no, Oldin was sure that they were connected—that they had figured out some way to kill a man in a way that it looked like a heart attack.  And there they had been stuck for months, continuing to try to find leads, and having the leads dashed at every corner as each of their men that was just about to make a huge lead was suddenly killed by this rogue group.

Oldin pursed his lips.  They needed a plan.  They had to come up with something new—some ingenious way to break through the hold that this group had put them in for so long.  They had tried always having microphones on their agents, but the elven rebel group had managed to tangle their signals in response.  And as much as he had tried to help, Iraina still hadn’t come up with any solution either, keeping them in a state of gridlock, unable to do anything against the elves while the elves danced around with their plan, unscathed from the attacks.

Oldin was getting desperate, which was never a good thing.  Because when he was desperate, he’d end up trying to do the job himself.  And as much as he might try to rationalize it, Oldin knew that being desperate never helped anything.  But, standing up, Oldin decided that he was desperate.  And there really wasn’t any avoiding what he wanted to do right now.  So he headed out the door.

The latest lead was a man named James McDonnell, who seemed connected with the elf group.  Oldin had already figured out that the man was gone for the day on business.  And so it was time to investigate.  He could have assigned it to someone else, but those plans never worked.  Oldin had tried purging their system many times to hunt out spies or bugs, but had so far failed.  And so, not wanting to get another agent killed, he was taking things into his own hands.

Slinking toward the house, Oldin checked for noticeable cameras and then ran up to the door, unlocking it with a fake key he had before letting himself in, shutting the door behind him.  It was the standard type of house in Araelia, with the room layout nearly identical to his setup in his house.

The computer brought up no interesting results, although Oldin did manage to find the security tapes, quickly running their high-tech password-breaker to get in and editing it to erase the couple hours in which he’d be at the house.  After making sure that all the security cameras were off, he continued the search.  At the very least, the fact that James would have security tapes was something.  An average citizen wouldn’t have as many security cameras as James did, giving further ground to Oldin’s suspicions.

Oldin quickly placed a bug on his telephone before moving upstairs.  There had been a lot of security cameras placed near a section of the hallway, a section which Oldin was curious to investigate.  After walking around in the other rooms, he was sure of it.  In all other houses of this type, there was a closet in the hallway that didn’t appear to be in this house, which meant…

After much trial and error, Oldin finally found the tiny slit to place his fingers in and opened the secret door, revealing the hidden closet within, full of C-Watches and what looked like various prototypes for it.  Oldin furrowed his brow.  How was this connected to it?  He remembered noticing that James worked for the company that produced the C-Watches but was this just so that no one else could see the company’s work beforehand, or was it for a darker purpose?  And why would James have brought the prototypes here?  Oldin remembered the workplace that James had converted his basement to and wondered if James took them home with him to try to fix at his home office.  After gingerly taking a couple of the prototypes, Oldin shut the door and stepped back.  That had been surprisingly easy—too easy for sneaking into the house of a suspect.

After making sure that everything he had moved was in its proper place, Oldin swiftly exited the house, a lot on his mind as he quickly got to the car and began driving back to the office.  He had run a guard around him to keep him from being shot by the terrorist group, but he’d managed to make this mission without them.  Now to get back to the office and make sure he was well-protected there as he began to figure out what the link was between the terrorist group, James McDonnell, and the C-watches.

If there even was one.