Part CXVI: Realm in Chaos
Date: Kapton 22nd, 114 A.U.
The voyager ship of the Xavier Team descended to meet a city ravaged by war.
Lingering smoke still rose from the broken bombed-out buildings and trees in the city, flames still flickering within their hollows. Dead bodies lay on the ground, corpses mutilated and stripped as they lay silent on the ground. Bare trees encircled the palace which still stood, though slowly breaking down. And at the other side of the city, a large black circle encircled the Mothertree which still stood, although worse for the wear.
Reynyagn gravely surveyed the situation. “The elves must have broken through quite recently,” he said. “Keep your eyes peeled—they may still be around. The palace seems like it’s still standing—we must make there quickly.”
Flek said nothing as he stood, silently surveying the city broken and battered down, slowly lowering his head in sadness. He paused as the others began to move toward the palace. And then, slowly, still shaken, he went on.
“Hail Lord Freglak.” Freglak looked up, face still stricken, as his expression was eclipsed with a sudden shock and astonishment as his mouth dropped to see Reynyagn enter into the room, followed by Flek and a group of other beings, members of each of the races, along with some reptilian being that he didn’t recognize.
“Yo—you,” Lord Freglak stammered as his knees gave way, causing him to sit down. “You… You’re here.”
“We’re here,” Flek said softly, sensing the passion behind Freglak’s voice. “And I…” His voice broke. “I’ve seen the city,” he said, trying to keep back his pressing emotions. “The city… Those elves… they-”
“It’s not the blasted elves that did this,” Freglak said, cursing, as he shook his head in vengeance. “The wretched Jaine and his cohort of priests have waged this war against ourselves as the elves wait in the wings. We’re ruined, Flek… Our cause is lost… Unless-” He looked up to meet Flek’s gaze. “Except that you’ve come now. Why… Why are you here? Are the elves-”
“I fear that we are not here to bring much good tidings,” Reynyagn replied. “Although, to confirm what you may have suspected, it is indeed the Xavier Team that stands before you. We’ve come in search of the Golden Corsha Weapon of the Goblins, believing it to be crucial to resist the Emperor. We have since seen the city, though, and…” Reynyagn paused. “I cannot leave this city without doing something to help.”
“I know nothing of such a weapon,” Lord Freglak said, shaking his head. “Likely Jaine, with his wealth of knowledge about the customs of the past, knows what you speak of, but he and I are sworn enemies as of now. Your only chance to find it would be to break past his defenses and either find it among his stash or wrest any possible information from him.” He looked up and there was a glimmer in his eyes. “To break past his defenses…” he repeated.
“What are these defenses like?” Monty asked, stepping forward. “As a means of introduction, my name is Monty, a former spy for Governor Astrid in Araelia. I’m not part of the Xavier Team, but I know much about getting past defenses. What is the situation like?”
“You… You’d better sit down,” Lord Freglak said slowly. “I will explain to you the current situation, but… Much backstory is needed. And I believe that will mean explaining to you the whole background of the war so that you might better understand our straits. And the dismal situation that we now find ourselves in.”
“Your squadron goes out to battle in two hours,” High-Priest Jaine, Prophet of the Mothertree, commanded. “Your mission is to be of absolute stealth—to assassinate Lord Freglak while the Elder Dragon provides his distraction atop the fortress. Freglak will find himself flanked by the two sides, and he cannot escape both of them. This battle will end today.”
“Yes, sir,” the commander replied. “My men will undertake the mission to assassinate the Lord-Protector. Have you discovered any information yet about the ship that landed today?”
“Whoever came out of the ship that landed outside Freglak’s palace is likely of no importance to us,” Jaine replied. “The Mother-Tree will tell me if they are. They are likely some remaining commanders in Freglak’s army that are returning in his desperate attempt to save himself as he realizes that his end is approaching. Pay no heed to them. Freglak will meet his end today.”
“So, in other words, basically all our routes of salvation have been exhausted.”
“Aye,” Freglak said, slumped back against his chair. “It’s over. There is no more lingering doubt in the minds of the public as to the power of the Mothertree. It survived my entire barrage of bombs. The Elder-Dragon has turned against us for the last time, we can’t breach his defenses, and Major Erklen has deserted. Before you showed up, we were merely awaiting the final strike.”
“No escape routes?” Flek asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Bah, the elves have all but surrounded the city,” Freglak spat. “Although they are trying to fool me otherwise, their prancing around minor targets are merely a façade. They’re waiting for us to destroy ourselves and then they’ll crush us. They are still a day’s journey away from the city, but they have this city all but in our hands. There is no escape.”
“Yes, we narrowly slipped past the elven defenses to get here,” Reynyagn replied. “The choices are laid out on the table. What is your choice?”
“Excuse me?”
“Will you sit here and wait for them to deal the killing strike?” Reynyagn asked. “Or shall we let loose one last assault on the enemy, where the Xavier Team will lead your forces to battle in one last effort to break past the priests’ defenses and wrest the information about the Golden Corsha Weapon out of Jaine?”
A gleam sprung up in Freglak’s eyes. “My military is all but abandoned me to the enemy or waits here in fear,” he replied. “The gas for our machines is all but one else. Our defenses are but a broken piece of wood, and our food is running out. But we will fight.” He stood up, clenching his sword pommel in his fist. “Take full control of my army, Reynyagn of the Xavier Team. Command them however you see fit, and I will do all that I can to aid you. We will let loose one final assault upon the priest’s defenses and exploit all their weaknesses that we can. Or I will die doing so.”
There was a roar behind them, and red flames splashed across the windows in the room before a green spiked tail smashed against them, flinging glass everywhere.
“And so the final battle begins,” Number 994 replied. And lightning crackled across his fingertips.
Date: Kapton 22nd, 114 A.U.
The voyager ship of the Xavier Team descended to meet a city ravaged by war.
Lingering smoke still rose from the broken bombed-out buildings and trees in the city, flames still flickering within their hollows. Dead bodies lay on the ground, corpses mutilated and stripped as they lay silent on the ground. Bare trees encircled the palace which still stood, though slowly breaking down. And at the other side of the city, a large black circle encircled the Mothertree which still stood, although worse for the wear.
Reynyagn gravely surveyed the situation. “The elves must have broken through quite recently,” he said. “Keep your eyes peeled—they may still be around. The palace seems like it’s still standing—we must make there quickly.”
Flek said nothing as he stood, silently surveying the city broken and battered down, slowly lowering his head in sadness. He paused as the others began to move toward the palace. And then, slowly, still shaken, he went on.
“Hail Lord Freglak.” Freglak looked up, face still stricken, as his expression was eclipsed with a sudden shock and astonishment as his mouth dropped to see Reynyagn enter into the room, followed by Flek and a group of other beings, members of each of the races, along with some reptilian being that he didn’t recognize.
“Yo—you,” Lord Freglak stammered as his knees gave way, causing him to sit down. “You… You’re here.”
“We’re here,” Flek said softly, sensing the passion behind Freglak’s voice. “And I…” His voice broke. “I’ve seen the city,” he said, trying to keep back his pressing emotions. “The city… Those elves… they-”
“It’s not the blasted elves that did this,” Freglak said, cursing, as he shook his head in vengeance. “The wretched Jaine and his cohort of priests have waged this war against ourselves as the elves wait in the wings. We’re ruined, Flek… Our cause is lost… Unless-” He looked up to meet Flek’s gaze. “Except that you’ve come now. Why… Why are you here? Are the elves-”
“I fear that we are not here to bring much good tidings,” Reynyagn replied. “Although, to confirm what you may have suspected, it is indeed the Xavier Team that stands before you. We’ve come in search of the Golden Corsha Weapon of the Goblins, believing it to be crucial to resist the Emperor. We have since seen the city, though, and…” Reynyagn paused. “I cannot leave this city without doing something to help.”
“I know nothing of such a weapon,” Lord Freglak said, shaking his head. “Likely Jaine, with his wealth of knowledge about the customs of the past, knows what you speak of, but he and I are sworn enemies as of now. Your only chance to find it would be to break past his defenses and either find it among his stash or wrest any possible information from him.” He looked up and there was a glimmer in his eyes. “To break past his defenses…” he repeated.
“What are these defenses like?” Monty asked, stepping forward. “As a means of introduction, my name is Monty, a former spy for Governor Astrid in Araelia. I’m not part of the Xavier Team, but I know much about getting past defenses. What is the situation like?”
“You… You’d better sit down,” Lord Freglak said slowly. “I will explain to you the current situation, but… Much backstory is needed. And I believe that will mean explaining to you the whole background of the war so that you might better understand our straits. And the dismal situation that we now find ourselves in.”
“Your squadron goes out to battle in two hours,” High-Priest Jaine, Prophet of the Mothertree, commanded. “Your mission is to be of absolute stealth—to assassinate Lord Freglak while the Elder Dragon provides his distraction atop the fortress. Freglak will find himself flanked by the two sides, and he cannot escape both of them. This battle will end today.”
“Yes, sir,” the commander replied. “My men will undertake the mission to assassinate the Lord-Protector. Have you discovered any information yet about the ship that landed today?”
“Whoever came out of the ship that landed outside Freglak’s palace is likely of no importance to us,” Jaine replied. “The Mother-Tree will tell me if they are. They are likely some remaining commanders in Freglak’s army that are returning in his desperate attempt to save himself as he realizes that his end is approaching. Pay no heed to them. Freglak will meet his end today.”
“So, in other words, basically all our routes of salvation have been exhausted.”
“Aye,” Freglak said, slumped back against his chair. “It’s over. There is no more lingering doubt in the minds of the public as to the power of the Mothertree. It survived my entire barrage of bombs. The Elder-Dragon has turned against us for the last time, we can’t breach his defenses, and Major Erklen has deserted. Before you showed up, we were merely awaiting the final strike.”
“No escape routes?” Flek asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Bah, the elves have all but surrounded the city,” Freglak spat. “Although they are trying to fool me otherwise, their prancing around minor targets are merely a façade. They’re waiting for us to destroy ourselves and then they’ll crush us. They are still a day’s journey away from the city, but they have this city all but in our hands. There is no escape.”
“Yes, we narrowly slipped past the elven defenses to get here,” Reynyagn replied. “The choices are laid out on the table. What is your choice?”
“Excuse me?”
“Will you sit here and wait for them to deal the killing strike?” Reynyagn asked. “Or shall we let loose one last assault on the enemy, where the Xavier Team will lead your forces to battle in one last effort to break past the priests’ defenses and wrest the information about the Golden Corsha Weapon out of Jaine?”
A gleam sprung up in Freglak’s eyes. “My military is all but abandoned me to the enemy or waits here in fear,” he replied. “The gas for our machines is all but one else. Our defenses are but a broken piece of wood, and our food is running out. But we will fight.” He stood up, clenching his sword pommel in his fist. “Take full control of my army, Reynyagn of the Xavier Team. Command them however you see fit, and I will do all that I can to aid you. We will let loose one final assault upon the priest’s defenses and exploit all their weaknesses that we can. Or I will die doing so.”
There was a roar behind them, and red flames splashed across the windows in the room before a green spiked tail smashed against them, flinging glass everywhere.
“And so the final battle begins,” Number 994 replied. And lightning crackled across his fingertips.
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