Part Seven: The Breaking Point
Chapter 42: Coming and Going
Ray's new task came sooner than expected.
No sooner had he dragged himself out of bed and put his armor on before a knock came on his door. He opened it just as he was donning his mask to find Fornax standing outside. "Good, you're already up," she said. "Come with me, I have an assignment for you."
He followed behind her, through the GCRB's halls and into the hub connecting it to the main Industrial Division headquarters. The difference was stark: the Nether bricks and birch planks he'd grown used to seeing were gone in favor of sandstone and granite and terracotta, all placed in haphazard patches as if the construction workers were using one stack of materials at a time and simply grabbing whatever was handy. He spotted a few Industrial Division members lounging nearby, their voices kept low and tense as they discussed how Incursia could be fortified if the Inlanders really would be mounting an attack.
"What's going to happen to everyone here? Is it really right for me to be away when the battle comes? Should I have just kept quiet yesterday?"
He didn't know. He just didn't know.
They passed through the hub and into an adjoining hallway, and then through a metal door guarded by two Industrial soldiers. Inside, there was a Nether portal with a wooden sign that read 'PORTAL 2E - INDUSTRIAL.' Beside the obsidian frame sat a machine covered in gold plating, with a lever on one face of the block and a redstone torch on the opposite side. The top had a thick sheet of paper, not unlike those used in the Genesis Core trackers, installed in its surface. Fornax wrote something on the paper with a quill, then pulled the lever. The portal's swirling purple matter flickered, but otherwise didn't change.
"Step through here," she told Ray, before entering the portal herself. He followed along, not sure what had just happened, and when he came out the other side he was even less sure.
They were in the Nether, naturally, but the sign on the frame they'd exited read 'PORTAL 1D – EXPANSION FORTRESS SOUTH.' The Industrial Division (and by extension the GCRB) headquarters were near the middle of Incursia, nowhere near the southern armories and barracks.
"Nether portal linking technology," Fornax explained, "something Overseer Ursa has been working on for a while now. We can connect portals in the Inlands to different destinations in the Nether instead of the fixed corresponding exit. It works the other way around, too."
Ray didn't know who Overseer Ursa was, but he couldn't deny their creation was impressive. He didn't have much time to appreciate it before they were approached by three people he hadn't expected to meet that day: Ender Forge members, garbed as usual in their black robes.
"Senior Forger," said Fornax, giving the one at the front a grin, "I've brought you the help I promised."
"I hope so, Overseer. Time is of the essence, and my associates should be leaving as soon as possible," he replied. His hood was down, but Benedict's short, dark hair and his average facial features were so unremarkable for an Inlander's that Ray hadn't even recognized him until he spoke. "This is your representative, I presume?"
He jumped when Fornax clapped him on the shoulder. "That's right. Sir Ray, GCRB Knight. I believe you've met him already, back in Tenebyss when Commandant Red stopped by."
Benedict's dark purple eyes were on Ray, who found he couldn't return the stare and just looked at the black, swirling patterns on his Ender robe. "Yes, I remember you now… there are few who can survive a direct encounter with the Warden."
Ray wondered if either of the two grunts had been among the group to leave them for dead. He didn't voice that thought, and just nodded in reply.
"These fine sirs are headed for the Inland settlement of Granitetown," Fornax explained. "It's to the southwest, and it's the closest major city to Incursia. Had we not received the Mouth's warning, the Expansion Division might have launched an attack on it soon."
Benedict smirked. "And the Overseer has recommended your services to us, Sir Ray. My fellow Forgers will be traveling through the Nether to get there in a timely manner, and we would appreciate your guidance."
Ray's stomach dropped. "I'll… be going behind enemy lines?"
"Don't worry about it, it's just a supply run," said Fornax. "All we need is for you to help the Forgers deliver some parts for a beacon."
He'd never heard of such an item before. Benedict must have noticed the confusion on his face, because he elaborated. "Beacons are old technology, but one of our spies has discovered the recipe to craft one. We need to bring the last few materials there to build it, and in doing so the war effort will be made much easier for you. Beacons are said to magically empower the armies of those who create them."
Ray's concerns were eased but not quelled, and he utterly dreaded the thought of traversing the Nether yet again. Still, he trusted Fornax, and she'd never led him wrong before. He would get the job done, making her proud and helping the Far Landers at the same time.
"I understand," he said, mustering his confidence. "I'll get you there safely."
"That's the spirit," replied Fornax, who sounded very satisfied. "I know you won't let me down."
It was still early in the morning when a messenger knocked on the door to Esme's quarters, bearing a summons from Overseer Fornax. The last thing she wanted was to incur her superior's anger again- the wound on her face had mostly closed up but still stung- so she suited up and made her way to Staging in a hurry. She stopped outside the door and took a deep breath, then opened it once she'd worked up the nerve.
"Good morning, Dame Esme. Right on time, just the way I like it. Come in."
Fornax was standing by the map of the badlands, and she wasn't alone. There was another soldier in the room, with dull gray hair a shade darker than Esme's and wearing a neat brown cowl over his armor. He couldn't have been much older than her, maybe around Ray's age, but the long scar running from just under his right eye to his chin made him look aged and battle-weathered. As Esme entered the chamber, he gave her a nod. Fornax didn't look up from the map.
"You'll be heading out on a new assignment today. The Titans are in need of one last field test, so I'm going to let you oversee their operation in battle," Fornax explained. She pointed at a spot northeast of Incursia on the map, where a rectangular face with a large nose and glaring eyes had been drawn beside a small, crude icon of a house. "There's an Illager fortification nearby, one that's been standing for too long."
Esme looked at the icon, then at Incursia's marker on the map, and ran a quick calculation of the distance in her head. "That can't be more than a day's march from here, Overseer. Wouldn't Commandant Red have wanted to conquer it by now?"
"Ordinarily you'd be right, but Commandant Green talked him into leaving it alone while we were building this city. We haven't tracked any Genesis Cores to the outpost, and whatever Illager forces are there have done nothing to stand in our way, so it wouldn't have been worth the effort to attack… but now that we need to test a weapon, I'd say it's in the ideal position to deploy a Titan."
Fornax sounded pleased with herself as always. Already psyching herself up for the fight to come, Esme replied. "Understood. I'll rally Jade Squad."
"Oh, that won't be necessary."
She blinked. "I'm sorry?"
Leaning away from the badlands map, Fornax looked at the young man standing beside her. "Overseer Pyxis has already volunteered a team of his own to escort the Titan's field test. I'm sending you along to oversee its operation directly. You can give it commands through your enchanted book."
It had already shown the ability to receive orders from afar, so she didn't quite understand what made her so necessary for the mission. Regardless, Esme didn't dare question the logic- there was still a gash on her cheek, one which she suspected would leave a scar. If complying with the perplexing assignment would get her back in the Overseer's good graces, then she'd comply.
"I am Sir Paolo," said the soldier, holding out a hand. "I lead Industrial Redstone Research Squad 3. I'm looking forward to working with you."
"Likewise," Esme replied as she meekly shook it.
"You'll be leaving by noon, so I expect the both of you to be ready at the northern gate at least half an hour beforehand," Fornax said. "Until then, you are both dismissed."
Esme saluted, making her way out the door to double check her equipment. As she left, she considered the task at hand.
"Wipe out an Illager camp… I've never faced them in battle before, though. Why wouldn't Overseer Fornax want to send Ray after them instead, when he has more experience?"
She wasn't even particularly skilled with a blade. But, she supposed, if the Titan would be fighting for her then that wouldn't matter so much. This was a chance at redemption in Fornax's eyes, and against such brutal enemies Esme wouldn't let her down.
Speaking of Ray, she hadn't seen or heard anything from him since the riot had died down. Apparently he'd gotten through unscathed, and she just hoped that he was still doing okay wherever he was.
Tara had seen much in the Inlands. She'd stood in awe under the clear sky, traversed hills and plains and forests on her way south from the border, and ventured across oceans or through the cavernous depths. Today, her environment consisted of a few brick and stone walls, beyond which was nothing but an endless wasteland of netherrack.
Crux's forces were responsible for the defense of Incursia's Nether fortifications, and for the unlucky troopers under her that meant patrolling the brick corridors or standing guard by important sectors. Tunnels had to be inspected, Nether portals had to be supervised, and Usurpation teams returning to the fortress had to be cleared for entry. Tara knew how tantalizing the idea of fighting monsters and Inlanders was for the Far Landers- she'd been tantalized as well, even if she'd tried to hide it- so such an assignment must have been torturous for anyone who still had those fiery ambitions.
Tara knew, because she could muster no enthusiasm for the Usurpation and still thought the task was boring. And it was only made worse by Marshal Crux, who dragged her along on patrol in the stuffy, hot hallways- sometimes literally. Wherever they went, Tara could feel the jeering eyes of other Expansion soldiers on her.
"If this first day is meant to set the tone for my new assignment, it's working…"
She'd been given most of her items back, including the diamond axe Commandant Red had taken from Countess Celia's fallen underling. It was in good condition, not that Tara would have a chance to use it anyway.
It was early in the afternoon when the patrolling team reached the southern Nether gate, and Crux announced they would be stopping for a short break there. The other troopers dispersed to their own small conversations in the boxy Nether brick chamber, none of them interested in speaking to Tara. She felt likewise, and took the smallest sips she could from her provided water bottles in silence.
"What's this for?"
Crux was looking at a chest someone had left in the room, beside which stood one of her guards. "It was delivered from the Genesis Core Research Branch at the request of Overseer Fornax," he explained. "Someone from the Ender Forge will be here to retrieve it soon."
Tara watched from the corner of her eye as Crux lifted the chest's lid. She couldn't see what was inside, but the reaction was intriguing. "Just some sand? What do they need this for?"
"Excuse us."
She looked to her left, at the corridor which would lead to the inner sector of Incursia. Sure enough, a pair of Ender Forge grunts had entered the room and pushed past Crux's troopers. One of them approached the chest and scooped out a few blocks of the thick brown sand unique to the Nether, stowing it in his inventory. But the mystery of what it could have been for was overshadowed by who Tara saw trailing along behind them.
Ray had his hood up and his mask on, but there was a strangeness to the way he carried himself. He appeared subdued, or even meek as he followed along. He saw Tara looking his way, and although she tried to avert her eyes it was too late, he slowly approached while the Forgers spoke with Crux.
"Hello, Tara. What are you doing here?"
She withheld a sigh as she rose to address him, technically her superior now. "Sir Ray. Marshal Crux has added me to her forces, and I am to guard the Nether fortification with her."
"I see. I'm… glad you weren't caught in the riot."
Tara had heard what happened from Crux that morning. She still wasn't sure how she felt about it, but it was obvious what Ray thought. Even as he spoke, he shifted around and kept his eyes low and his head bowed, as if thinking of the fight was physically weighing on him. Had he been caught in it? She wanted to ask for elaboration, but decided otherwise. He was uncomfortable, and something in Tara felt sorry for him.
"What are you doing with the Ender Forge?" she wound up asking.
He glanced at the two grunts by the chest, who had finished taking out the dark sand. "Overseer Fornax is sending me with them to a city called Granitetown, southwest of here. We'll be meeting their cohorts to build a 'beacon.' Supposedly it's a bit of forgotten Inland technology, and the Overseer says it could help bolster our forces."
She raised a brow. "And it's made with sand?"
"I don't get it either. But the Forgers swear it'll be worth the effort." Ray's eyes flicked toward the hooded people again, and she could see them narrowing behind his goggles.
"The same Forgers that abandoned us to the Warden," Tara thought, knowing full well he was thinking it too.
"That should be everything!" one of them announced. "We're heading out, Sir Ray. Our path has already been determined."
"Understood," he said back before turning to Tara one last time. "Do you know about the attack coming up?"
A chill went down her spine. Word had spread across Incursia quickly, and while Crux hadn't brought it up to Tara, she'd nonetheless heard whispers about the Mouth's warning while they were on patrol. The city was on edge, as were many of the soldiers, but she couldn't bring herself to say more to him than "I do."
Ray paused, and she saw his jaw tighten. "I don't know if I'll return by the time our enemies arrive. So… I'm sorry if I'm not here to help. Keep yourself safe, won't you?"
Then he was walking away, out the gate with the Ender Forge and leaving Tara with a slew of conflicting feelings as she watched him go.
The Inland Alliance wound up making even better time than they'd expected. Their undead steeds, morbid as they were, proved very efficient for travel. On top of being perfectly willing to follow their new riders' instructions, they appeared to have limitless stamina and showed no signs of needing to stop for food or water. Blake still hadn't gotten the hang of actually directing a horse, let alone a skeletal one, but he was able to keep up with the others as they galloped across the plains at a breakneck pace.
In fact, they made such good time that what might have been another few days' worth of traveling on foot was reduced to just two. It was the day after they'd set off on horseback, and the sun had begun to set as the grassy plains finally gave way to rougher, dustier ground. This was also when they dismounted to make camp for the night; they'd been riding almost nonstop for two days with only a short break in the middle, and everyone had grown exhausted.
"I've never seen terrain like this before," Blake heard Cupa saying. He turned to see her crouched down, scooping up flecks of gravel and letting them slip between her fingers. "It feels weird."
Celia looked up from where she'd opened the shulker box to explain. "We're at the edge of the Igniz Desert. It is comprised of two smaller regions, namely the Great Badlands where our enemies have built their city, and our destination: the Scorched Sands, farthest to the east."
"We've come pretty far from Luxmouth," Felix said. "I think the borders of the old Kingdom don't extend much more than this."
"Indeed," replied Celia. "And to think we have been traveling for… er, what day is it?"
Blake had failed to keep track of the date. They'd known Cupa for four days, but so much had happened in recent memory that it was hard for him to tell just how long he'd been out.
"It's 28 Persson," answered Melissa. She had already set about putting together their campfire. "The first of Larsson is tomorrow."
"Wait a second, it's really only been a week since we left Tenebyss?" Felix asked.
Celia shrugged. "We've been through much recently. Why, I believe it was almost exactly a month ago when you and I met Blake. I think… yes, we met on 28 Dryden."
"A month?! No way, it's definitely been longer than that!" Blake exclaimed. "Felix, hasn't it?"
He just shook his head, and the reality sunk in. Blake had left home, met all sorts of new people, battled monsters and the Usurpation Army, and seen many different places in the Overworld. If all of that had happened in just one month, who knew what else he would go through?
"What's Dryden, or Persson?" asked Cupa, coming over to join the rest of the group as they set up camp.
"They are months in our calendar, the fourth and fifth respectively," Celia told her. "Larsson, the new month which begins tomorrow, is the sixth."
Blake had some familiarity with the calendar system used in this region of the Overworld. He'd heard a bit of it during his two-week stay in Luxmouth, but he'd never quite grown accustomed to the names used for each month. At least Luxmouth's calendar had the same general structure as the calendar used in his home village: one year was 336 days, divided into twelve months of 28 days apiece.
"We just gave each month a number back home," Blake said. "Maybe it's not as fancy, but it's practical. I guess I don't technically know when I was born, but the villagers found me on the Third of the Twelfth. I turned nineteen a few months before I met you and Felix."
"Hang on, 'found?' You were lost?" asked Melissa. She and the others had stopped putting together the shelter and were giving him alarmed looks, and he realized he'd never said much about that aspect of his upbringing, only mentioning it in passing.
"My old friends and I were raised by villagers after they found us in the woods. We were too young to remember anything at the time, so none of us know how we'd gotten there, and neither did the villagers. To this day, I still have no idea."
Everyone's wide eyes were fixed on Blake. It occurred to him how astonishing the story must have sounded to his companions.
"That's… that's messed up!" Cupa gasped. "Who just leaves a bunch of spawns out in the middle of nowhere?!"
"If there wasn't much to go on, it could've been anyone," replied Melissa, her brow furrowed in thought. "What do you think, Blake?"
He didn't expect to be put on the spot, and certainly not to be pressed for answers. Blake cleared his throat, trying to find his words. "Well… I really don't think about it much. It's not like there are any leads or clues to follow. I know some of my friends left to look for answers, but I never wanted to. I guess… it just doesn't mean that much to me."
"Aren't you curious, though?" Felix asked.
Blake scratched his head. "Well, yeah. Sometimes I do wonder where I'm actually from. Maybe I'm a lost heir to some throne, or maybe the people who left me were traveling the world together to find ancient treasures. Maybe my parents went overseas from Luxmouth or some other city here, for all I know. Or maybe I'm just nobody after all."
He sighed. "The point is, where I might be from doesn't matter as much as where I am. I… I like to think I'm one of you guys now."
Felix was smiling while he got back to work putting together the stone shelter. "After everything that's happened in the past month? Of course you are."
"You'll always be welcome here," Celia added. "In any case! The 'Third of the Twelfth' would mark your birthday as 3 Manneh, Year 603 on our calendar. It also makes you the oldest of us; I was born on 16 Chiang, 604. Chiang is the third month of the year. For reference, the calendar years have been counted since the original formation of the Lux Kingdom."
"We did numbers in Teras, too!" said Cupa. "Let's see… uh, my dads told me I was transformed on four-four, and that was seventeen years ago…"
"That would be… 4 Dryden, 605," remarked Celia. "You're the youngest, it appears. Or do we count however old you'd been before you were transformed?"
"We don't," she said. "I must've been just a spawn back then, anyway, so it doesn't matter."
Melissa chimed in. "I'm on 6 Porsér, 604. That's the first month."
"Second month here," Felix concluded. "Twenty-one Rosenfeld, 605."
With everyone having shared their birthdays, and with Blake trying to memorize them all for future reference, they finished putting together their campsite. The skeletal horses were built a small room of their own for the night, as Celia had voiced a concern of them wandering off if unsupervised (even if they didn't appear very interested in going anywhere). Blake, personally, was thinking of what had happened the last time they'd left their horses alone.
The group settled in for the evening, each winding down in their own ways as usual. That was, except for Felix and Cupa, who were sitting together in the corner. Felix had a notebook open on his lap and a quill in hand, and he was pointing to something on each page and muttering too quietly for Blake to hear. Cupa, listening in, would occasionally nod and say something back to him, following his eyes on the page.
"I wonder what they're up to…"
He might have asked, but he noticed something. When they were returning to Luxmouth, Blake had taken Felix for someone very uptight and nervous most of the time. He'd opened up more during their stay in the city, and even more after their battle in the woodland mansion, but rarely did he seem so relaxed. Felix showed Cupa whatever was on the page with a carefree look in his eyes, one which Blake hadn't seen in full since his stay at the Silverhands' house.
"…I won't interrupt them. I can ask another time."
The night wore on, and Celia passed around a few beds for everyone. Just as they were about to decide who would take the first watch, Cupa snapped up from where she sat and jumped to her feet, stringing her bow. "Someone's coming," she whispered. "Sounds like it's just one person."
Everyone was up in a flash. Blake grabbed his sword, and fumbled for the armor pieces he'd kept in his inventory. "Could it be a mob?"
Cupa listened again. "The footsteps are too heavy for a spider's, and too steady for a zombie's. I just don't-"
"Hey! Are you in there, boy?"
The voice made them all jump. It was a man's, and it sounded older than any of them. He lacked the nasal tone of a villager or Illager, or the slight rasp of the average Usurpation soldier. But the voice wasn't completely unremarkable, because Blake had heard one like it before. It sounded almost identical to one of the speakers he'd heard when he first obtained the purple Bonemeal Core.
"Come out of there!" he shouted again, this time sounding much less patient. "We've got something to discuss."
"Who's he talking to?" Blake mouthed to the others. Celia and Melissa looked on edge yet at a loss for words, and Cupa was more focused on stringing her bow, so none of them seemed to have an answer for him. Then he saw Felix, who'd gone completely stiff and was taking extremely short, heavy breaths. His face had drained of color altogether.
Blake peered out from one of the small gaps they'd left in the shelter. In the darkness, it was hard to make out much of the silhouetted man approaching them. That is, until he planted a torch in the gravel at his feet and lit it as if to declare his presence.
For a moment, Blake felt himself go numb as well. He could discern teal and blue clothing, a skin tone lighter than his or Melissa's but darker than Celia, Cupa, and Felix's, and a pair of lapis-blue eyes staring right through the gap- and it felt like right through Blake too. The person looked nearly identical to the artificial humans he'd fought in the Illagers' hideout, and after another tense moment he realized why Felix looked so terrified all of a sudden.
It was him, the same man who he'd met under Tenebyss. The same man who the Usurpation had mistaken for a creator deity.
The same man who, Felix had told them, used the name of a Legendary Hero.