17 - The Abyss
A bleak golden haze was visible on the dark, early morning horizon, as the Imperial magitek flyer swooped in towards the top landing decks of Castrum Abania.
Fordola was twitching with irritation at their late arrival. They had departed Ala Mhigo on the twilight hour yesterday, but no sooner had they cleared the Lochs outside the city than an engine fault had forced them to land at Porta Praetoria for repairs.
She had felt neither the need, nor the inclination for sleep, so had paced, cursed, and fumed as the few Imperials at the checkpoint had tried to fix up the flyer.
Finally, they had got on their way again; but now as dawn's first light kissed the air, she felt sure she could hear the beating of her heart over the flyers rotor blades. Surely the loud thudding would betray her unease and agitation to those around her.
Castrum Abania was hacked into the top of a nameless peak along the eastern Abalathia's Spine which separated the arid plains of western Gyr Abania from the Lochs and city of Ala Mhigo to the east. It made for an imposing sight, even if the dim light. The citadel rising up from the mountain, jutted with towers and spires like a giant's fingers. A long iron wall expanded around the outside of the citadel mountain, which had the effect of making the mountaintop appear garlanded with a black crown.
As the flyer swooped in across the wall Fordola caught a glimpse of the mighty artillery cannon itself, glistening in the first dim rays of light. It seemed to take up a third of the base itself, a towering iron phallus surrounded by support towers, aerials and sensors.
Construction of Castrum Abania had started shortly after the Ala Mhigan occupation. Fordola had been only a little girl at the time. But she dimly remembered her father had secured some of the first contracts available to the Ala Mhigan people, shipping raw minerals, workers and supply columns to the new Garlean citadel. It wasn't until the battle of Silvertear Skies, a year later, when the great wyrm Midgardsormr and his brood annihilated the Garlean 2nd airfleet and the great flagship - Agrius - that the key function of Castrum Abania had been decided.
Lord Gaius had decreed a great cannon be installed, sufficient to repel even the most gigantic of dragons should they dare approach Ala Mhigo from Coerthas, and so it had been done. A shame he had not lived to see it completed.
Laid upon the rocky ground within the walls were metalclad strips which the flyer put down upon with a final buzz of rotors. Even before the blades had stopped moving she had vaulted out of her seat, landing lightly before a startled Garlean welcome party of four armoured guardsmen.
The lead Garlean saluted somewhat hesitantly, a faint blue haze of aether swirling around his helmet. "Good morning Ma'am," his voice at least was strong and clear over the diminishing hum of the flyer. "We were notified of your delayed arrival. We're to escort you to the fire control room where the base commander, Sevick quo Argos is waiting for you."
"In a moment captain." Fordola held up her hand, distracted, looking at the battlements of the wall behind her. "Do you have a spyglass on you?"
The captain hesitated, then reached into his uniform to produce a small golden telescope and held it out to Fordola who took it with a nod.
She then turned and brazenly walked away from the captain and his men, heading for the wall. From the inside, it was about thrice her height, steps were visible a few dozen yalms away, but she ignored them, cutting a straight line to the wall.
She tensed her legs, feeling the unnatural energy that now flowed through her swirl and she pushed hard, leaping into the air with wild abandon. Clearing the wall with some height to spare, landing on the battlement itself.
Gods, she felt…. powerful! She didn't fully understand her abilities and limitations, but she had a dim, instinctive feeling for the raw energy within her. There would be time to stop and consider it when her work was done, for now she had to trust in her instincts. Putting this to one side, she looked out across the great expanse of the Peaks.
At another time, the view before her would have inspired awe. She could have stood here for hours taking it all in.
The sun was dawning on the far horizon and a dim light was spreading across the whole length of Gyr Albania open like a tapestry. The monstrous tower of Castellum Velodyna astride the river was easy to make out, reaching up to the sky like an accusing middle finger. The great flag of the rebellion was still cruelly visible.
Beyond that, were the myriad peaks and hills where Rhalgrs Reach hid, and beyond that, just visible on the horizon was a faint black outline, that she knew was Baelsar's Wall. Closer to home she could make out the nearby town of Ala Ghiri, now almost certainly in the hands of the Eorzeans.
But her focus was elsewhere, and she looked down towards the base of the mountain on which Castrum Abania stood. Here was the Ironroad, the main passage between Eorzea and Ala Mhigo. It was the critical route upon which caravans, traders and armies advanced either east and west.
Specula Imperators sat astride this trade route; a single tall gleaming spire which rose up into the air surrounded by high walls on all sides. It was more a glorified watchtower, with a tower stretching for the heavens bedecked by communications devices and other Garlean machina compared to Castellum Velodyna. It was partially surrounded on all sides by walls but they served more as chokepoints for traders to be checked and approved, rather than as serious obstacles to invaders.
She felt her ears prick. She could hear something on the winds, it was the sounds of many feet trampling on the earth far below her. Surely not though...the base of the mountain was malms away and if her hearing was so attuned would she not be overpowered by the noise of the citadel around her?
Trusting in her instincts though, she raised the spyglass to her eye and peered down onto the plains surrounding Specula Imperators. Almost immediately she picked out the shadowyt mass of an army advancing! Hundreds, thousands, of Eorzeans were moving forward, no flags or torches to betray them, but weapons held ready. She could even make out a great brute of a man leading them from the front, huge golden horns astride his helmet.
The army was lit up in a haze of aetheric currents twinking like brilliant stars - and she searched for a moment, confident she could pick out the champion of Eorzea; heart hammering in her breast.
"Ma'am." The captain who had greeted her had managed to catch up and stand beside her on the wall peering out. "What can you see?"
"The Eorzeans are advancing on Specula Imperators!" Fordola gave up and turned around, pointed down into the darkness below. "Why isn't the main cannon primed and firing? Is this castrum on full alert or not?"
The captain peered down into the distance and Fordola could tell the man was squinting. She almost felt pity for a moment, in the half-light before morning, he had no chance of picking out any movement that for her was as clear as day. The man turned to Fordola and opened his mouth, then reprised his words caching her passionate look. "If there is anything out there, Specula Imperatoris will call it in. The cannon needs some light to align with, but the sun is almost up - the situation will be clear very shortly."
"Fool!" Fordola threw the spyglass over the edge of the wall in a moment of burning anger. "The Eorzeans must know that as well, by the time the situation is clear they will be inside the walls!" and then I will have no choice…the thought filled her, consumed her...
She let it boil within her, fill her with wrath and fire…give her the energy to do what must be done.
"Get me up to the fire control centre now!" She snapped to the hapless captain. "Lead the way! Now!"
Castrum Abania was particularly cold and grey on the inside, yet there was...something unnatural about the place. As the captain led her at a rapid pace through the mountain complex, down winding passages Fordola could feel some sixth sense of 'wrongness' about her. Aulus mal Asina had worked here, had done his experiments here that had led him to success with her, the first resonant. She allowed a shiver to pass through her, what other experiments were locked below in the bowels of the castrum?
After what felt like ages, the captain finally led her to a tall lift shaft, before flicking a switch on the far wall. The platform on which they stood started grinding upwards, ascending towards the tower's eyrie far above.
"We should be there in a few moments ma'am." The captain fidgeted. "I'll hand over to centurion Argos then and rejoin my unit."
"Fine." Fordola nodded curtly, pacing back and forth as the platform crawled up, too slowly! The Eorzeans could be in the walls of Specula Imperatoris now, in the tower itself...the tower...a faint memory jogged her. Something she had seen…
"Ma'am…" The captain awkwardly continued and Fordola felt the memory slip away from her like a puff of cloud.
"Stop calling me that!" She snapped at the unfortunate man and she actually saw the man flinch back from her. Maybe for just a moment her eye had flared with the strange mandala pattern Zenos had mentioned?
"Apologies." He bowed deeply, not one for courage. "We were not properly told how to address you on arrival. Just that you spoke with authority granted to you by Lord Zenos himself."
Fordola took a deep breath, fighting to control her turbulent emotions, focussing on the wisp of blue aether swirling around the man's head to distract her irritation. "What was your question?"
"Does Lord Zenos mean to abandon us up here?" The Garlean asked, fidgeting in his stance. "Half the troops of the castrum have been pulled back to Ala Mhigo and we are undermanned. When will the relief force arrive?"
"I don't know." Fordola shook her head, feeling her lips draw tight. "Focus on doing your job, Lord Zenos has a plan."
She resumed pacing, ignoring the flickering soul before her.
Lord Zenos had a plan? She hoped she could believe it herself. She admitted that the man's sole obsession appeared to be this 'Warrior of Light' - the prince seemed willing to give up vast tracts of territory to lure her into the city itself, why?
Why did she feel something tug at her so? Twice she had been bested by this woman, but not thrice. Fordola wanted to meet her again, to even the score - only then would this all be worth it...right?
The platform juddered to a half with a screech of pistons and valves and she strode past the captain and pushed through the double doors before her.
The control tower of Castrum Abania was all straight lines and high technology. Along the walls were large banks of machina consoles and data-readout screens. A dozen unarmoured Garlean adjutants sat at various areas, fingers typing commands into complex buttons and glowing devices Fordola couldn't start to fathom at exactly what they did.
The massive window at the end of the room left no doubts to the rooms purpose, it offered a commanding view across the peaks. Ahead the main tower of Specula Imperators was clearly visible in the hazy light, however dominating the view of the windows and directly adjacent to the tower was the massive cannon complex itself.
Fordola could see the dark morning sky she had seen on landing was steadily being transformed into a light, hazy blue. The shadows were parting, and the day was beginning.
A fully armed and armoured Garlean officer stood in the center of the room, observing the frenzy of orders, this must be Sevick quo Argos.
"Get me confirmation from Specula Imperators now." He was snapping down at the men below him. "We need firing solutions now!" He then turned, and noticed Fordola standing at the entrance to the control tower, their eyes met and,
Flicker, she felt a terrible wave of nausea grip her as sudden as a storm. A salty taste filled her mouth and,
Snow howled around the meager steel walls that surrounded him, three children sat shivering at his feet - a tiny fire was flickering before them, the warmth...slowly dying.
She clutched her head reflectively, was that his memory? What had she just seen?
She shook her head and noticed that Sevick quo Argos was saluting her, standing to attention and she walked forwards, shaking off the aftereffects of the image.
"Report!" She barked, already knowing what he would say.
"Enemy forces have overrun the lower facilities at Specula Imperators." He quickly reported, she could hear the uncertainty in his voice as he spoke. "They appear to be mounting an assault on the main tower. We have already received a request for reinforcements. A unit of legionnaires has been mustered and is ready to depart. They await your orders, Commander."
He had no idea did he?
She had seen the numbers of the Eorzeas, there had been thousands swarming towards Specula Imperators. A unit of legionnaires, a centuria, was perhaps 80 guardsmen - they would be slaughtered to a man, even with heavy magitek support...especially if 'she' was down there.
For a moment, a tantalising vision spread through her mind. She could lead the unit, she could lead every man out of Castrum Abania to the side of her Crani Lupi. Hack their way through the Eorzeans and send them howling in retreat.
But even as that warm image ran through her body she knew it was a mirage. By the time they had descended the mountain, her Crani Lupi would be dead. Or worse; captives for the Garleans to sneer at for as long as they ruled! In this time of crisis, when blood needed to hold the line - her Crani Lupi could throw down their life's work and allow themselves to be hauled away meekly...she could not allow it - she would not allow it!
"Stand down." The words were calm, quiet and ringed in steel. Only martyrs would be remembered.
"Commander?" The base commander had lowered his arm and relaxed his pose, a head cocked to try and hear her words.
"Tell them to stand down!" She spoke much more sharply then intended, fixing the man with a baleful look.
To his credit, Sevick quo Argos did not meekly agree, instead he took a half step towards Fordola. "Commander," he said firmly, "If I may, our people - your people, are still in there. They will be slaughtered."
She felt her face flush with emotion, "You think I don't know that!?" She demanded. "I want nothing more than to help them – to lead the bloody charge – but I have my orders!"
She took a deep shuddering breath, ignoring how several of the adjutants had turned and were listening in. The atmosphere in the control tower had changed to one of tense anticipation. She continued in a quiet voice, even to her own ears. "Lord Zenos said no reinforcements. He would have us use the main cannon to destroy the installation."
"What!" Sevick flinched, as if Fordola had suggested branding him on the spot. "Kill our own soldiers, you must be mistaken!"
You won't be killing them, I will – the thought buzzed and gnawed at her as she clenched her fists against the building dread within. Lord Zenos had not said it in as many words, but he was hunting for higher stakes, a hunt that would have its climax at Ala Mhigo. As for her…
The Crani Lupi were her family, her brothers and sisters, her children. They would either fight to defend the tower to the last man, or they would surrender and be paraded before the alliance, a legacy of failure, a humiliation worse than death.
Something that's supposed to die and won't, will eventually rot away and infect everything, whether it's a man or nation. She remembered the words of her father, long ago…when he had spoken about the old, mad, royal family of Ala Mhigo - was that the context? The words were unbearable to her, but she had to do this herself. It was unthinkable for someone else to give the order.
She realised the Garleans were all watching her as she shook on the spot. "Mayhaps you'd like to ask Lord Zenos yourself?" She asked, feeling the deadly question come easily to her.
Sevick flinched a second time, raised an arm as if to speak, to argue, to offer a rebuttal…but then he slowly lowered it and looked away from her, unable to meet her eyes,
"I thought not." She hissed, feeling disappointed he had not argued further - insisted to see the orders, asked for senior confirmation, anything to delay this moment! She spoke up now, projecting to the room, "Initiate the firing sequence! Wars are won on the backs of the dead. Theirs and ours. There is no truth but this! We remain firm and resolute, and always, always do our duty. Now give the order!"
Sevick quo Argos did now turn away from her and gesture to his men. "Initiate firing sequence," he repeated simply.
Immediately there was a hive of activity, as the adjutants busied themselves at respective stations, their movements smooth and clearly drilled, a lead adjutant calling out orders. "Initiating Firing Sequence…release safety locks…deploy main cannon!"
There was a rumble heard throughout the tower as outside the massive cannon slowly changed its angle. Lower and lower, it sank into the early morning light, before it clunked into its firing position. The pistons at its base crackling with energy, a whining roar that was growing louder and louder. The anticipation in the room was building to the moment of release but Fordola felt a strange moment of calm. She closed her eyes, whispering their names.
"Ainsfrid…" The dusty haired youth who had chased urchins through the city streets as a boy while she watched. He had grown into a man, her first captain.
"Hrudolf…" Always so brave and able, the strongest sword at her side.
"Emelin…" Still too young for what she had asked of him, but he always took the tasks of his station with a smile and a wink.
"For us." She whispered hoarsely to herself. "For our people. For our future."
She waited, but no release came, no crack of thunder, just the building whine of energy that crackled through the control tower. She half opened her eyes and saw Sevick was watching her, his helmeted head not betraying his emotion. He noticed her watching him and spoke up softly. "I need you to confirm the target, Commander."
"Specula Imperators, main tower. Fire when ready." Twelve curse her forever, the words came out in a rush.
Sevick gestured to his men at their consoles below. Leavers were thrown, flashing lights lit up consoles, the rumble and whine of energy reached new heights…and a piercing headache rammed into Fordola's head!
Her vision swayed and she staggered, clutching her head, wincing with the pain, what was this? Thankfully nobody was looking at her, all attention was on the work being done and the view of the main cannon. Final buttons were pressed and then everything was suddenly still…
…before there was a deafening crash of thunder and a massive, roaring fireball at the barrel of the cannon. A huge dust cloud was swept off the mountain from the cannon's shockwave, plastering the casturms walls below in an avalanche of particles swept up into a frenzy by the recoil.
She had closed her eyes, half in the pain that filled her head, half because she could not bear to watch. But she heard the echoing crash as the shell hit home, smashing into the central section of the main tower of Specula Imperators and knew it meant the death of everyone inside. The crash echoed through her head, reverberating as if a great door had been slammed shut next to her head, closing something off forever. She swayed in place, eyes dry, fists clenched, the pain in her head building to unbearable levels…
"Enough," Raubahn spoke up now, his voice soft, but a look of contempt on his face. "Since you had your eyes closed in your cowardice, I can give you a first-hand account of what happened. I was there, I was on the ground at Specula Imperators when the main tower was struck. It hit with such impact that the whole tower split apart and crashed to the ground. Hundreds of men on both sides were killed on the ground by falling debris, nothing to say about the hundreds of men - your men mostly - inside the tower who died on impact, or were smothered beneath the rubble. Truly a monstrous act. Yet you stand here and say you couldn't watch because of a headache!? You can't be serious!"
"It was war." Fordola replied flatly, the emotion buried deep within, but feeling her head throb with the phantom pain she had felt that day. "There were no civilians in the area, just soldiers and combatants. I said it before, the mission of soldiers and…" she stole a look at the Warrior. "…even heroes, is to kill your nation's enemies, little more. The alliance did not advance for nearly a full day afterwards! That gave more time for the fortifications at Ala Mhigo to be prepared in full. I carried out my orders."
"Your Crani Lupi were surrendering!" Lyse broke out here - standing and pointing a finger accusingly at Fordola, her cheeks flushed. "You murdered prisoners of war, your own people – do you not have any remorse for those you gathered and sacrificed!?"
"I would have expected the same if it was me at the tower, and any of my skulls in the fire control centre." Fordola held her head high. "My troops were remarkable men. The Garleans lost Ala Mhigo because such men were kept at the bottom of the ranks."
She didn't know they would surrender…but wait, she did, didn't she know? If they had surrendered, would they now be sitting in the crowd behind her? Would Emelin be working in a soup kitchen? Ansfrid maybe a captain in the liberated Ala Mhigan army? No...no surely not, she dare not pursue that thought, it led to only madness.
"It was a deplorable act." The seedseer added her two gil to the mix as Lyse slowly sat down, unwilling to speak further.
"Yet all rules are often silent in times of war." Admiral Merlyb suddenly spoke up, shooting the seedseer a flat glance. "Would you condemn my pirates that sail under false Garlean flags to board and seize their merchant vessels? Slaying any that resist?"
"They are not comparable." Lyse spoke up, the heat still in her voice. "These were meaningless deaths, despite what she might tell us!"
The admiral turned to the younger woman, fitting her with a flat gaze. "Good people, bad people, remarkable people are killed every day in meaningless ways, that's war. The sins of war come down to that."
"Let's continue with the account." Alphinaud implored Lyse directly, as the woman half stood up again, glaring at the admiral. "The hour is late, and we will have time to debate her prosecution after Fodola has completed her testimony."
Lyse half opened her mouth, closed it and reluctantly sat down as Alphinaud turned back to Fordola. "The cannon was sabotaged shortly afterwards by an associate, Estinien. What was the reaction within the Castrum?"
"Chaos." Fordola replied, her mind still elsewhere, the words flowing without conscious thought. "The cannon would have probably kept up firing but the ceruleum pipeline which fuelled the cannon was ruptured and led to widespread fires and chaos within the castrum." Here she nodded at the Warrior again. "Probably helped your infiltration of the facility. I stayed up in the control tower. I knew you would come – how could you not with an invitation like that? When the alurm started blaring that intruders had entered the Castrum it was almost an anti-climax…"
Fordola watched the Warrior of Light slaughter her way through the Garlean guards that stood in her way.
The Warrior was a poetry of violence, no blade or clumsy weapon being used this time. She fought as one of the martial monks of old, closing the distance on the hapless fools that stood in her way, crushing them with powerful blows. Armour proving hopeless in offering any protection to her infused limbs.
Fordola watched with interest, stoking her chin, as the last Garlean guardsman fell and a magitek unit shuffled into frame. Its two huge sawblades raised to slice the Warrior where she stood, normally capable of cutting down dozens of ordinary troops with ease.
The woman darted forwards in a blur of energy, easily avoiding the clumsy saws and brought both hands together, a wave of pure white energy enveloped the magitek unit and the camera feed cut out.
"This is ridiculous!" Sevick quo Argos cursed under his breath next to her. "She's well on her way to this control tower. The garrison guard is too dispersed with the fires still raging…she surely can't reach us can she?"
"Oh, she will." Fordola almost smiled as the Garlean adjutant in front of them started cycling through machina feeds, the grainy images on the view screen flickering past. She dimly acknowledged how her heart felt strangely lighter at the sight of her enemy, a welcome distraction from the crushing thoughts that occupied her skull.
"Intolerable." Sevick leaned forwards, staring at the camera feeds as they rapidly changed. "Luckily we've got a magna roader magitek unit and a squad of the 12th legion before her. They'll cut her off before she gets into the research holding pens…"
Fordola said nothing as the camera cycled to a large chamber. The Magna Roader was a horrendous Garlean contraption. A mechanised unit on three huge, spiked wheels, bristling with armour and weapons, backed by veteran 12th legion soldiers. Normally, they would represent a practically unstoppable force on any battlefield.
The Warrior cut them down with ease.
Fordola felt herself actively warming, admiring the power and grace on display - she could almost understand the fascination Lord Zenos had with her. The raw power as she broke the machine with such energy...directed as it was through furious, powerful blows….
Fordola knew then that she had never stood a chance against the Eorzean hero as she had been…but as she was now…could she defeat her?
The Warrior vanished from the camera, leaving the charred pieces of the Magna Roader behind along with the bodies of numerous Garlean troops.
"Impossible…impossible…" Sevick muttered, as the adjutant resumed camera cycling.
Fordola leaned back, crossing her arms as she felt her foot tap impatiently. She watched as the camera cycled past identical containment units to the ones she had seen during her 'enhancement' and an idea came to her.
"Sevick." She deliberately used the man's first name causing him to look at her sharply. "We have hypercharged experiments in there? Failed experiments – why not release them?"
"We can't control them!" Sevick snapped back. "They no longer have any impulse save violence. Lord Aulus has them in suspended animation pending further trials. I will not release those monsters throughout the lab."
"Do it." Fordola gestured to the adjutant. "They may slow her down or even triumph." A memory of her time with Aulus swept into her head. "And get Number XXIV to cut her off if she gets through them as well."
Sevick opened his mouth and Fordola gazed at the man balefully. "Or must you question my orders a second time?"
The Garlean made a disgusted sound and grunted to the adjutant, who swiped switches and buttons and Fordola watched in satisfaction as caskets began opening and figures began emerging into the gloom.
They hardly slowed the Warrior – however Fordola had expected nothing less. 'I could have turned out like that' she thought, watching the mindless creatures, once humans with stable aether who had been 'enriched' and lost all control. Another husk of violence and madness. She owned what she was to Lord Zenos…
She watched Number XXIV, Lord Aulus's finest experiment, battle the Warrior. He (or was that 'it') was disciplined, cunning and vicious. He conjured magick barriers in an effort to ward off the Warriors blows and for a moment it seemed Fordola's resonant predecessor might succeed.
Then it was all over, and Number XXIV stumbled, delivered a mortal blow by the Warrior.
Fordola's breath caught in her throat. For just a moment, a split second, it was as if there were four figures on screen. Four Warriors. Three women of different sizes and forms and an Elzeen man wielding a spear.
Then Number XXIV was dead, fallen to the floor and there was one hero, one woman moving on.
"Did you see that!?" Fordola asked Sevick, her head suddenly throbbing. "Four figures?"
"What are you talking about?" Sevick snapped, his decorum slipping. "It's just the one person! Although I'm getting reports there are other intruders approaching the control tower from another direction, they'll be here any moment!"
"Release any remaining experiments of Lord Aulus in her path." Fordola walked away as Sevick placed the orders, a few more Garlean guards now arriving in the control room looking agitated and worried.
She ignored them, looking out of the main window at the view outside, the late morning sun was now beaming down on the base, not a cloud in the sky.
She strolled casually forwards, towards the console of another adjutant who was looking at a screen of complicated numbers and symbols. "Is the main cannon ready yet?" She asked quietly, so that Sevick could not hear.
"Almost commander," the adjutant replied, not looking up from his work. "They're just patching up the ceruluem pipeline, the last of the fires are also being extinguished."
"Good," Fordola nodded. It was far too late now – the Warrior would be here in moments and it sounded like the castrum would be lost in its entirety, ah well. She realized that suddenly...she didn't really care.
She leaned closer, over the man's shoulder. "Call down to the landing pad, I want my magitek flyer to take up station just under the main window of the tower outside."
The adjutant offered a stiff nod, leaning over the console to grab a small receiver as Fordola strode away, back to Sevick who looked up at her aghast. "That…that woman just tore Nemesis apart with her bare hands! That experiment was supposed to be the spearhead we would use to retake the wall in our assault on Eorzea…"
"Compose yourself." Fordola responded, feeling strangely calm. "You're setting a bad example for your men."
Sevick didn't respond; probably didn't trust himself to respond and Fordola looked away, out of the window at the blue sky and the mountaintops of Abalathia's Spine. They really were quite beautiful…
The doors behind her crashed open with a bang and she turned to face the Warrior of Light and companions.
There were a number of resistance fighters; she recognised Lyse - the blond woman from the reach garbed in red, loose garb befitting a martial artist. There were the two white haired youths from the reach (were they Elzeen? They had a most peculiar aether to them) and of course, Her.
Garleans had hardly a haze of aether, the average Ala Mhigan or Eorzea, a swirl or a cloud about them. But the Champion of Eorzea radiated a golden light, a sun that overpowered her companions light that stood besides her. It was breathtaking and terrifying.
"They're here!" Fordola shouted unnecessarily. The Garleans in the control tower were flotsam, Castrum Abania was truly beyond saving.
Strangely, it was Lyse, the Ala Mhigan that spoke up first, her eyes narrowed with all their attention, and anger, on Fordola. "It was you, wasn't it...wasn't it!?" She shouted, slowly advancing as Fordola felt her head suddenly spike with pain.
Flicker,
A steppe of endless green, flags fluttering on the distance, companions at her side.
"Aye." She spoke the words that condemned her, gritting her teeth at the nausea that almost staggered her. "I gave the order to fire."
"It was over!" Lyse practically shouted, her voice high, grating and accusing. "The skulls had surrendered! No one else had to die! You killed them! Your own people! Your own comrades!"
The pain in Fordola's head was building to new heights. It was fierce, she staggered in place, hoping it was not telegraphing weakness, suddenly feeling a desperate need for a release of some sorts. Was this in response to the turbulent emotions of Lyse...or was it a reaction to the Warriors herself?
"You're right, I killed them." She whispered, panting slightly, a part of her unsure why she admitted it. "Ainsfrid, Hrudolf, Emelin, all the rest - trained and fought with every last one of them. Good soldiers to a man. I gave the order that led to their deaths...and I knew exactly what I was doing."
"But why!?" The girl in red demanded, her fist clenching, her silvery aether swirling in agitation. "Why would you do that!?"
What would you know about sacrifice and our cause? She thought, the blood we shed together, our mission, our cause?
"They died so that all Ala Mhigans could live free." She instead replied, feeling the pulsing pain in her skull recede suddenly, able to now withdraw the hand at her skull - knowing the time for fighting was almost here. "That was all we ever wanted. We made a promise that we would do whatever it took so that one day...one day the imperials would learn to accept us. But everything comes at a price. And if you have't got the means to pay, then you pay with blood."
She wondered who she was speaking to, the imperials clustered around her, Lyse - her accuser, the Warrior of Light - or was there other souls darting around her - Ainsfrid, Hrudolf, Emelin and the others - were they watching her now?
"Service guarantees citizenship," she continued, looking up at a flash of gold that swirled before her, "But citizenship guarantees naught. It's not enough to do your part, oh no. You have to run faster, fight harder, kill more and more and more - and only then will you be equal." She levelled her eyes back on Lyse, daring her to strike, to fight. "That's just how it is out here in the provinces. You buy your freedom with blood - there is no other way!"
"Shut up!" Lyse shouted back, riled by this declaration, fists clenched. "Shut your mouth! You don't get to talk about freedom! You killed your own! They trusted you and you killed them! Murder! Butcher! Traitor!"
With a blur, Lyse rushed at her and Fordola felt the energy within her own body surge,
Flicker,
Lyse smashed into her, driving her to the ground, pinning her flat. All the air in Fordola's lungs knocked out of her in a moment. She was helpless...
She pivoted back on her left foot as Lyse blitzed past her, close enough for the other woman's hair to brush against Fordola's face as she straightened casually, watching as Lyse staggered for a moment, re-balancing. Their eyes met and Fordola allowed a smirk to show. Come on, she thought, itching to test herself, come on!
The other woman's aether swirled around her, a froth of raw emotions and rage hardly in control as,
Flicker,
Lyse's kicked out with all her energy and the blow crashed into Fordola's stomach leaving her doubled up in agony...
Concentrating on the swirling energy within her, Fordola kicked off the ground, back into the air as Lyse's foot swung up, and around, striking only the air itself.
Fordola now had her back to the great window of the control tower and she watched as the Garleans led by Sevick quo Argos tried to rush the Warrior and her companions. Lyse however charged forwards, closing the distance with a barrage of fierce punches which seemed sluggish and slow to Fordola. She swayed in place, her head dodging each blow - almost taunting the girl to see what she would do now.
She offered her best answer, Fordola felt the flair of a warning in her head, saw the dim haze of red indicate the passage of blow and cartwheeled back to avoid Lyse as she spun around in a dazzling series of deadly, crashing kicks.
The devastating blows didn't even come close to connecting as Fordola opened up some space between them.
"Lyse!" A cry came from behind Fordola and she half turned her head to see a white haired girl slicing forwards with a thin crystal blade which,
Flicker,
The thin blade wedged through Fordola's chest, a stinging session of death gripped her...
She kicked powerfully up, soaring through the air, away from the blade and landed close again to Lyse. The girl did'nt allow the opportunity to pass by, and drove at Fordola with a haymaker blow! Again, all too easily avoided - Fordola was almost enjoying this! The rush of combat, the focus - it cleared her mind, it gave her focus. There was only her, and the Empire's enemies.
Again she leapt clear of Lyse, flipping over her white haired companion with the thin blade. Time seemed to flow slowly as Fordola glanced back at the entrance door, where the Warrior of Light stood over the crumpled form of Sevick quo Argos. For a moment their eyes met and Fordola remembered Lord Zenos's order...an invitation had to be extended, best to make it viciously.
As she landed behind the white haired girl she drew the gunblade with ease and sliced viciously up in a single motion.
The girl was good, no doubts there. She half darted back - but the blade cleanly caught her, throwing her back through the air, crashing to the ground near Lyse's feet, a splash of red splattering the grey tiles.
There was a moment of shocked silence as Fordola replaced the blade at her side. Elation and energy pulsed through her body as she grinned at the horrified Lyse, mocking her. "I know what you can do. I've already seen it." Let them chew on that!
She heard an anguished cry from the white haired boy close to the Warrior of Light (a blood relation maybe?) as they darted forwards to stand next to Lyse. The boy tended to the fallen girl, green magicks flooding out of his hands and smothering her body but the Warrior stood alongside Lyse. Golden radiance spiking in the hymn of battle.
There was a moment's silence again as the two stared down Fordola. She stood ready, but allowed her eyes to drift down, glancing outside the window, looking down - there! A slight shimmer of energy that betrayed the magitek flyer - just as hoped!
"Even so, the odds are against me…" She spoke aloud, playing for time - delaying the inevitable, how she longed to clash blows with them! First she would kill the red woman Lyse; then she would truly test herself against the Warrior - and triumph! But Lord Zenos had been clear in his orders, and in a life and death contest with the hero of Eorzea, she could not risk interference from the others now clustering forwards.
Without a moment's hesitation, she twisted a small smoke ball from her belt and dropped it. A cloud of thick smoke immediately covered her retreat as she charged at the main window, leaping through it in one motion - the fragile glass easily shattering. For a moment there was a dizzying moment of vertigo as she freefell several stories, but there! The flyer was hovering in place and she crashed onto the side of the small vehicle, catching hold of one of the wing engine pods and steadying herself as the startled pilot looked up at her, fighting to keep the flyer level.
"Ascend, now!" She shouted, standing in position. "Level with the window, but keep a fair distance, do it now!"
The pilot complied, the rotors buzzed as the magitek unit rose up and level with the shattered window. The Warrior of Light and Lyse both stood there staring out, Fordola felt genuine pleasure at the look of befuddlement and confusion on both their faces! She had outplayed and outwitted them!
"Hero!" She shouted at the Warrior, ignoring Lyse completely like the bystander she was. "Lord Zenos invites you to join him for the royal hunt, to be hosted at the palace. You may bring your horde, if you like. All are welcome!"
She tapped the pilots arm twice, the universal symbol for 'up' and the flyer rose, soaring into the sky.
"Back to Ala Mhigo!" She shouted over the wind to the pilot. "Get us out of here."
The pilot nodded, swinging the little craft around Castrum Albania. Down below she could see Garleans and more insurgents fighting in the courtyard, Twelve be damned, there were a lot of them! Had they infiltrated the castrum from below somehow?
The flyer gained speed, spinning away from the lost base. As they retreated, Fordola caught a clear sight of Specula Imperatoris. The fallen spire, the black smoke still rising from it, fires clearly visible. The battle elation, the pulsing energy she had been granted - fled her in an instance, as she felt very real shame and sadness enter her. A deep, overwhelming bitterness seized her as she considered the raw loss she had herself instigated. For a moment, she relaxed her grip on the engine pod, a sudden madness making her want to leap from the craft, to fall to the earth, and lie with her friends...
The craft buckled and the motion jerked her brain and she automatically steadied herself against the engine again. Half without thinking, she pulled forth a small knife from her belt and with one swift strike, severed a large lock of hair from the back of her head. She held it up to the hair and released it on the wind, watching the locks blow back across the Peaks towards the fallen tower of Specula Imperatoris.
"Soldiers of the Crani Lupi!" She felt herself shout, voice suddenly hoarse. "I, Fordola rem Lupis, swear to you that your deaths are not in vain! I will finish what we started! Your names will one day be spoken as heroes that gave their life for our cause! This I swear to you by all the Gods I swear it!"
She watched as the tower slowly receded from view, but she could still smell the soot, feel the fires and hear the cries of wounded men far below. Even as the malms between them and the flyer increased, she felt as if she was there, her heart crushed beneath the iron tower of the outpost.
The last fragments of hair had now vanished from sight and Fordola leaned against the engine pod, hoping the pilot wouldn't look back to see the tears streaming freely down her face.
"Fortunately the wound you gave my sister was quickly treated and she made a swift recovery." Alphinaud spoke, his voice soft - but there was a hint of steel to the boy's voice.
Fordola managed not to let anything show, lost in the memories of the day. She also managed to stop a sudden apology that seemed to form on her lips. Instead, managing to twist her mouth into a grimace as she spoke. "I'm pleased to know the neutral adjudicator's sister survived. Twus not a blow made with a killing impression - it was simply an invitation, nothing more."
"Now you sound like Zenos." Lyse tapped the table in irritation. "I find it hard to believe you showed any emotion at all."
"The purpose of this court is not to judge her emotional capacity." Alphinaud responded and Fordola felt sure she could detect a flicker of irritance, maybe her jibe had landed? "We are here to listen to her account and then pass judgement on her crimes." At that he looked up, for the late afternoons light had given way to the glorious, golden haze of late twilight.
"We will adjourn now for the night." He clasped his hands together. "Tomorrow morning you will complete your telling of the siege of Ala Mhigo, where your mad prince lost his life and we will decide your sentence."
A flicker in the boys aether confirmed what the Warrior had already told her - the mad prince was quite possibly still very much alive. Fordola felt a tiny shiver of fear at the implications.
"I am loath to repeat the circus of this morning with you publicly walking back the way you came." Alphinaud continued. "The guards will take you via a back route through the palace gardens and through an underground passageway to the cells. We will summon you back tomorrow morning." He beckoned for the nearest guard to come forwards, but then he (and probably everyone else) was surprised when the Warrior herself walked forwards, a hand outstretched to stop the approaching guardsman.
"No need Alphinaud." She spoke, her voice clear and sweet. Her back to Fordola as she addressed the judges respectfully. "I will see her back to the cells. There is something I must...test her on, beforehand."
Fordola spared a look at the judges. The seedseer was placid and unreadable as always. The admiral bristled to open her mouth and demand what it was, but held her tongue out of respect. Raubahn had lost interest and was already standing up, his mind elsewhere. Lyse was full of curiosity, but still too emotionally charged to think it through.
Alphinaud however allowed a confident smile to show and gestured his hero forwards. "Of course. Who better to watch over her then the one that conquered her?"
Sara Alexander, the Warrior of Light inclined her head slightly, and approached the lectern on which Fordola stood. Behind the crowded pews buzzed with a background mummer of the assembled people.
"Follow me." Sara spoke softly, the woman's aether swirling around in a dazzling medley of patterns, her eyes and words just for Fordola. "Don't cause a scene."
Resisting the urge to say something snappish, but filled with a sudden intrigue. Fordola turned and walked down the steps to the floor, ignoring the crowd that was suddenly pulsed with violent energy. She followed the other woman towards the side door which she had used twice already, and out of the courtroom with the Warrior.
(I started and stopped this too many times! Between trying to describe Castrum Abania - and also having to follow the actual cut scene dialogue this one span in circles for ages!
Thank you for reading - time for a little 'non-cannon' break before returning to the 'climax'(?) of the fict.)