A/N: Thank you all for the warm reception. I am pleased that the newest chapter was enjoyable. I will be attempting to push out an update at least every other week, but we will see how that will turn out. I feel like I need to take advantage of the muse while I have her and bring this story to a satisfying conclusion. Unless I speed things along though, I estimate that we are a little over halfway.
Chapter 19: I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire – The Inkspots
POV: Harry, Daphne and Danse
The wall disintegrated with an explosive roar, the brick reduced to dust and billowing out in an angry grey cloud. Thankfully, the group had positioned themselves far enough away to not be its path, or else they'd be hacking and coughing out the dust of the ages for days.
The dust settled slowly, and the rasping hisses and angry gasps that issued from the yawning black opening gave no doubt as to the state the feral ghouls were now in.
Harry lifted his wand and watched as Daphne did the same, and with an almost synchronous movement, swished their wands and summoned their Patronus.
The wispy stag and sleek leopard leapt from their wands and rushed into the breach, their pale luminescence marking them clearly in the gloom. Both of them began to rush and leap throughout the building, drawing as much ire and attention as they could.
Danse couldn't help but be in awe of their powers. Even having viewed it first hand during the mission to retrieve the deep range transmitter with Ms. Greengrass, he was still battling the dual sensations of inspiration and dread at the display.
He glanced at the pair, his gaze softening when settling on Ms. Greengrass and hardening with an ill-intentioned jealousy toward Harry. Jealous? Why was he jealous? He had a duty to perform and though Daph… Ms. Greengrass performed admirably during their mission together, Mr. Potter had shown a similar, if unorthodox, willingness to leap into the fray. Perhaps he judged the man too harshly, colored as it was by the attraction he felt for his blonde companion.
He drew himself out of his ruminations, re-focusing on the task at hand. Whatever tricks the pair had summoned, it appeared to be doing the job, with their ghostly apparitions racing from the hole with a snarling pack of ferals hot on their heels.
"Open fire!" He commanded, raising his own rifle and sending beams of red-hot death lancing into the writhing mass of flesh billowing forth from the building.
His own shots were joined by the distinctive 'bwam' the militia's muskets made, their shots adding to the clamor. Soon, the air as filled with the shrieks of dying and wounded ferals, limbs flying free in sprays of blood and bursts of dull red as the occasional ghoul combusted entirely,
Harry and Daphne added their magic to the fury, bright blue flashes dancing about as they twirled and jabbed with their wands. With a flourish, Daphne summoned a vortex and sent a quartet of ghouls shrieking high into the air. Harry, never one to be outdone, ripped open a chasm in the earth and watched with satisfaction as it swallowed up several more of the creatures. With a snap of his fingers, the rift slammed shut, forever silencing those unfortunate ghouls that had fallen victim to it.
It was over in a matter of minutes with Mabel firing the last shot, putting down a particularly nasty ghoul that had gotten close enough for the group to recoil at the stink. The pathetic creature was bloated and gangrenous, prompting those standing in its vicinity to retreat several paces.
"We'll send in the Patronus again to make sure they aren't any more." Daphne announced.
Danse nodded at the sound tactic, reloading his rifle as he watched the two magicals perform their charms again. His mind drifted for a moment, and he imagined a squad of Brotherhood Knights and Paladins, girded and reinforced by their own wizards and witches. What a force for humanity they would be then! But, he thought with chagrin, not many would accept people such as that into their ranks. In fact, had Daphne not so impressed him, he would have counted himself among those more… hardline members.
"Hrmm, there don't seem to be any more of those tossers in there, or at least, none that were willing to follow our Patronus' out here." Harry noted after a few minutes, "There might be some trapped behind doors or in that other building, but I don't sense very many."
"We'll need to head back soon, everyone is on edge with Finch Farms and all, so the folks at our settlement are mighty anxious." Mabel announced.
"Yeah, if you hear from Jonathan or Hermione, let them know that Daphne and I will be joining them soon. I for one need to know what happened."
Daphne nodded in agreement, moving close to grip Harry's hand.
"Thank you all for coming, Salem will be sure to repay this support and we will be sure to come visit County Crossing soon." Daphne added.
"Be sure that you do, my man makes a mean mole rat pie." Mabel said with a grin.
"I was proud to have fought by your side, your people are a credit to the Minutemen." Danse added, drawing a grateful smile from Daphne for his uncharacteristic kindness.
Harry was speechless, though being around Daphne for any length of time was sure to draw out the best in anyone, he didn't think the two had spent enough time for even her influence to break through the armor Danse had built around himself.
Harry waved a farewell as the Minuteman gathered up their gear and headed out. Danse stood at the breached wall, peering inside for a moment before donning his helmet and lifting his rifle into ready position. He looked back and nodded at Harry before heading inside.
Harry and Daphne shared a quick look before plunging into the darkness behind him.
"Lumos" Harry murmured, the soft glow from his wand forcing the darkness to retreat somewhat, though they seemed strangely reticent to depart fully. Even Danse's bright helmet mounted light only pierced the gloom in a narrow cone, the inky blackness that surrounded them seemingly eager to refill the space he left as he panned his light around the room.
It looked as though a bomb had detonated in the middle of the room, mounds of rubble forming a hazardous walkway for them and giving barely any clue as to the lives of the men and women who lived and worked here.
A computer terminal blinked green off to the right, so Harry headed over to it and frowned at the ancient operating system. Jonathan had shown him how to access these types of computers, which seemed to infest the Commonwealth with their mediocrity. He tapped away at the keys while Danse continued exploring the building, Daphne keeping an eye on them both as best as she could.
"Ah ha!" Harry shouted in triumph, frowning a little at the dull way his voice sounded in the place. A steel security door swung open, revealing a passageway which connected the building they were in with the barracks. A strange setup.
Harry's head whipped around so fast his neck popped as the echoes of a laser blast found him.
"One target, neutralized. Moving on." Danse reported.
Harry sighed loudly and shook his head at the Paladin.
A few minutes later, Danse completed his sweep of the building, no further threats having revealed themselves. He rejoined Harry and Daphne at the security door Harry had gotten open.
"I hacked the computer." Harry announced with no small amount of pride.
"Why didn't you, you know." Danse questioned, motioning toward Harry's wand.
"I wanted to give the muggle method a go." Harry shrugged.
"Let's move on, shall we?" Daphne implored, feeling distinctly uncomfortable at the crude attempt the pair were making at conversation.
"Very well. I'll take point." Danse declared, the words barely out of his mouth before he moved into the passageway.
The pair followed after him, managing not to flinch as he gunned down a pair of ferals who had been trapped in the secure corridor. It was a short walk to the other building, which appeared from the outside to be some kind of barracks. As they entered, their opinion was validated when they saw an open mess area with the remains of several metal bed frames that had fallen through a massive hole in the ceiling. Above them appeared to be the main barracks room, with more beds that had resisted gravity silently rusting in orderly rows.
Harry noted a strange green glow moving in an adjacent corridor, the rays of light moving across them like a kaleidoscope as they filtered in between the piles of rubble.
"Glowing one!" Danse shouted, immediately moving back to shield his companions. Though Harry made note of the fact that his being protected was incidental at best, Danse clearly meant to block Daphne more.
He fired several shots, though strangely the searing hot beams seemed to have little effect on the ghoul. It approached them as if it had all the time in the world, and Harry found himself captivated by its luminescence.
"Stop gawking at it and do something!" The Paladin barked, clearly frustrated at the endurance this specimen was displaying.
Daphne reacted first, sending a strong stun flying through the air to impact on the ghoul's chest. Her surprise was complete when the creature didn't as much as slow down. Harry added a few select stuns of his own, they being something of a specialty of his and did not enjoy much more success than she had.
"How is it resistance to our stuns?" Daphne cried.
"I don't know, but it's time for this ugly thing to sod off." Harry grumbled.
"Sectum Sempra!"
Wide gashes appeared on the Glowing Ones chest, and finally, some semblance of a reaction from the monster. It stopped its slow cadence and shrieked one time, its raspy throat only capable of rendering it as a hollow, phlegmy cough.
Harry felt the newly born triumph die in his chest as he watched the creature intensify its glow, the increased radiation making their pip-boys crackle in alarm. The torn flesh on its chest stitched back together and worse, a burst of phosphorescence radiated out from it, its arms raised as if in some twisted benediction.
Ghouls that they were unaware of suddenly began to claw up from piles of debris, rotten looking limbs bursting up from the ground like some bad zombie flick.
"We may need to effect a tactical retreat." Danse said in a low voice, as if afraid a louder vocalization would betray the tremor he felt in his heart.
Harry was having none of it, and bringing a memory of his mentor and the magic he performed to save the both of them from the horde of inferi. His eyes blazed as he summoned up every ounce of his strength, molding it, adding to it, building it like one would feed a bonfire. He felt rage, his or the magic's, it didn't matter, they were one and the same now. He was only dimly aware of the others and he compelled the fire forth, waves of it surging from him like a tidal wave of hellish intent.
Shrieks arose within the roar even as the ones who owned them shriveled into black ash. The Glowing one stood against the deluge for a short time, but eventually even its light was overcome.
"Harry!" He heard a woman's scream… desperate, afraid.
Through red-tinted vision he saw her, huddled at his feet, redness rising along her exposed flesh as the heat baked her skin an angry tone.
The fire winked out without aplomb, like someone had hit a light switch and plunged the area into gloom. Only a faint crackle could be heard, the embers of singed wooden beams still aglow from the conflagration.
"Daphne! Are you alright?" Harry gasped, as he knelt down to check on her.
"Just got a bit of a tan, proudly lost about 3 pounds just from sweat too." She answered with a smile, accepting his hand upward.
Still Harry felt awful for the sorry state she was in. Her shirt clung to her chest like… whoops! Best not to keep looking there. Her skin was red like a sunburn, but she seemed cheerful enough despite it all.
"That was…" Danse began.
"I know," Harry retorted, in no mood for the Paladin's awe.
"Reckless." Danse finished, surprising Harry and driving it home that maybe it was a bit too much.
"But, given the alternative, perhaps it was the right choice. In any case, the signal is stronger here. We should be careful though, a fire like that could have weakened the already questionable integrity of this building."
Harry was shocked into silence at Danse's attempt to put him at ease, though he supposed that as a career soldier, he would be all too aware of the rare but very real necessity of overwhelming force.
He took a step forward and staggered, his legs suddenly unwilling to support his weight or obey his commands.
Danse, moving surprisingly swiftly for a man sheathed in steel plate, caught him and set him down gently. Daphne was at his side in an instant.
"I'm alright, just a bit knackered."
"I'm not surprised." Danse muttered under his breath, but his facial expression did not lend the statement with any measure of rancor. If anything, it was sympathetic.
Daphne offered him some water, which he accepted gratefully, guzzling down the cool liquid greedily.
The water and brief rest seemed to do the trick, as Harry felt his head beginning to clear the torpidity in his limbs abating. He stood up and nodded his readiness to the others.
Danse took the lead and began to navigate through the ruins, his rifle raised and ready should any further threats arise. Thankfully, the building was now quiet, save the occasional whistle of wind through a broken window or their own scuffling footsteps.
They continued for several minutes, poking through the occasional pile of debris or ancient locker, but found little of interest. The signal began to rise in a rapid crescendo as they approached some kind of office, which at one time been barricaded with furniture.
"Something happened here." Daphne breathed quietly, as if reticent to disturb the funeral feel of the place.
Sunlight filtered in through the filthy window in a golden ray, settling on the boots of the seated owner of the distress beacon. Harry peered over the desk and saw remains dressed in some kind of Brotherhood uniform, an orange jumpsuit with leather straps and combat plating on the chest.
"Knight Tara Astlin." Danse said, as if in introduction, "She was in my company, years ago. Best marksman I ever saw."
He knelt down and took her holotags, then retrieved what appeared to be a holotape that was still gripped in her gloved hand. He flipped off the beacon and grabbed that last, securing it inside a satchel which held Knight Varham's beacon.
He fingered the small plastic holotape for a moment then turned to Daphne, "Would you play this please? Hopefully it will give us further clues as to what happened to the squad."
The group listened quietly as the woman's final words played over Daphne's pip-boy.
"Knight Tara Astlin, Brotherhood of Steel Recon Team 429-Alpha. Serial Number 3431. It's been three hours since I set my distress pulser. There's been no word from the Paladin or Faris. Their objective was a satellite array on the coast. They may be out of range. My orders were to hold this position at all costs. The entire site has been overrun. The door won't last much longer. Paladin Brandis, sir. It's been and honor, sir."
The trio stood outside the building to catch their bearings, no one speaking a single word since they listened to the doomed women's final words, her clear and concise report belying what must have been a harrowing situation.
"Your people are very brave." Harry commented quietly, compelling Danse to turn to him with a raised eyebrow.
"Where we come from, someone who had performed as bravely as Knight Astlin would have received some kind of honor, a medal or something." Harry continued.
"Normally her CO… her Paladin, would enter a commendation into her record. In this case, if we can't find him, I will do so in her stead." Danse answered.
"I have an idea." Harry declared, tossing a wink in Daphne's direction.
Daphne was just as confused as Danse, as Harry waved his wand in an arc, a gentle azure light at the tip the only indication that there was more to the gesture than a simple wave.
The ground rumbled gently, the vibration so slight that it took Daphne several moment before she became aware of it. Glancing down, she gasped, lifting her feet in surprise at the wave of dust particles that swirled at her feet flowing toward the Training Facility. Reacting to her shock, Danse's eyes widened as he became aware of waves of dust swirling around their feet.
Their shock continued to mount as bricks, planks of wood, and other random pieces of debris flew through the air from all around them, Harry's unblinking eyes locked on the facility as he focused his considerable magical powers toward… the restoration?
A wave of color swept through the building as the materials that made up the ancient structure were restored and renewed. Daphne was familiar with this sort of magic, having done quite a bit of it to the buildings in Salem, but never to a site this large, with several structures. Even the vertibird righted itself and seemed to gleam as if just rolling off the assembly line!
Daphne and Danse were riveted by the spectacle of the rebirth of the Pre-War facility, Daphne because she always enjoyed watching this sort of magic at work, Danse because he was literally seeing a miracle take place right before his eyes.
Twenty minutes went by in the blink of an eye, literally as well as metaphorically, as Harry finally blinked and collapsed to his knees, drawing in gulps of air as his body protested the amount of strain he kept placing it under.
"Harry!" Daphne chided him, growing irritated at his seeming disregard for his own well-being.
Harry glanced up and gifted her with a small smile, noting that Danse was looking on with concern in between stolen glances at the restored Training Yards.
"It's a bit like exercising, your muscles protest at first, but eventually you get stronger or faster. Magic is much the same way. It takes practice and will to grow your power. Talent without training is nothing."
Danse nodded respectfully, that philosophy was certainly something he could get behind.
"Help me up, would you?" Harry implored.
"I should knock you on your bum." Daphne groused.
Despite her threat, she lugged him to his feet, getting a quick peck on the lips in thanks. Daphne couldn't help the beaming smile at the simple yet loving gesture.
"Just one last thing to do." Harry declared, raising his wand once more.
With his magic, he pulled a metal plate from a ruined bus busily rotting away in the parking lot and affixed it to a prominent position on the side of the main building. He then gestured again, and a cloud of metal flecks erupted from the rectangular plate in a wave from left to right. When the air cleared, the metal shone against the afternoon sun and emblazoned on the plate was the Brotherhood symbol with the words, 'Astlin Training Yards'.
Danse's jaw twitched and his gaze softened as he read the placard, "I don't know what to say."
"Consider it a gift from Salem to the Brotherhood. Let it be known that Knight Astlin didn't die for nothing."
POV: Salem
Lilith had reached the point somewhere in between exhaustion and being in coma. She had thought that taking on the role of being a teacher to the handful of magicals they had discovered would be a fruitful and enjoyable experience. And they were that, but they were beyond tiring. First, the numbers of magical children seem to multiply when she wasn't looking. Every morning as she took attendance, another name or two would appear on her roster, her quill dancing frenetically to copy all the names on the day's scroll.
The open space in the center of the church was nearly full, the partitioned she had put up to divide the different classes doing next to nothing to quiet the din of excited voices and the occasional magical compelled explosion. Even silencing charms couldn't save her from the chaos unfolding around her.
The sun had set on another day on Lilith and she slammed her one copy of 'Advanced Potions' shut as George Weasely, Barney Rook, Neville Longbottom, Piper Wright, and Walt William came in for the evening council meeting.
"Would it kill you to straighten up your student's mess, Lilith?" George joked, his nonchalant saunter to the table making Lilith grind her teeth with annoyance.
Piper, recognizing the growing fury in Lilith's gaze, put her hand on George's arm, "It'd be a great idea to do a little less gabbing if you know what's good for you."
Neville decided to be brave and opened his mouth, "Lilith, you look tired. We can skip the meeting if you need?"
Lilith's eyes widened as Piper slapped her forehead, "You idiot! You never tell a woman she looks tired! My god! You're worse than George!"
Neville frowned in chagrin and wisely kept his mouth shut.
"Those kids are running her ragged. What she needs is you two to step up and take some of the load off of her." Barney grumbled, clearly deducing the issue and enjoying the opportunity to dress down the young wizards.
"Ah, well, let's get together later and work out a schedule. George and I can certainly take over some of the classes." Neville put in quickly, eager to make up for his misstep.
"That would be welcome." Lilith breathed, a little of the tension bleeding out with their offer.
"Alright then," Barney interrupted, "Let's not get all lovely dovey. I got work to do, so let's get this over with."
"If you are in such a hurry, maybe you can start?" Piper snarked back at him, though the smile and wink she threw his way made it clear that it was meant in jest.
"Fair, 'nuff." Barney settled back in his chair, though the others weren't sure if the subsequent creaking noise came from the chair or from him.
"The Militia is up to 68. I have twelve up at Vincentville, eight at Kingston Lighthouse and twenty at Croup Manor. Aside from the twenty keeping watch here, I have a squad of crack fighters as my ace in the hole in case the crap hits the fan. They got that fancy power armor that the General fella gave us and enough firepower to put the hurt on whoever pisses us off."
Piper took notes, having assigned herself is the unofficial meeting minute taker for these meetings. Despite her reputation as a tough-as-nails, relentless reporter, she was surprisingly discrete when it came to sharing the details of Salem's position. No other group or settlement enjoyed that same level of protection though, the most recent article about the supposed inequities of the Mayor of Ten Pines and his supposed three wives and lavish lifestyle exploded across the Commonwealth and forced the disgraced mayor to resign. Last she heard, he was single and on a work crew retooling and repairing the Corvega plant.
"Captain Ironsides has been helping get more ships for our navy. We have three sloops with crews that are ready for operation. They lack any kind of armament though, so they rely on the sailor boys and girls carrying their own side arms if they run into any trouble." Barney continued.
Lilith stroked her chin thoughtfully, "Will, don't the Minutemen have some kind of mechanical expert?"
Will coughed, "Ahem, why yes. A fellow called the Mechanist. Considered quite the prodigy. Was considering going for a visit one of these days, maybe catch a ride on one of those new flying ships."
"Well, now you have official Salem business to give you the excuse. See if this 'Mechanist' can provide plans for some good ship cannon. If you can build a few prototypes, we can duplicate and start arming our other vessels. Anything else?"
Lilith allowed the silence to stretch for a moment.
"Alright, guess I'll go then." She sighed loudly, "I have 28 students of varying ages. A little work with Helena and Sir Nicholas helped me trace their lineage to witches and wizards who survived the Great War at Ivermorny."
"28? That's more than I thought." George commented.
"The real issue I'm having is that they range from 6 yrs old to 19. It's difficult to get them all productive with their lessons and juggling several different topics all at once. Helena has been helping by teaching Magical Theory to the 4 oldest students, but that is only one class and only for a few students."
"Still, no one can say that you aren't doing brilliantly Lilith." Neville said softly, "Perhaps after this, George and I will stick around and come up with a solid plan for helping you out."
"What about Morgan? What is she doing?" William queried, looking a little lost in the discussion of magic.
"Actually, she had asked that we visit her at Kingston when the opportunity arises. Let's hear from the rest of you, Will, then we can go see what she's been up to." Lilith answered thoughtfully.
They continued the discussion for several more minutes, with William giving a thorough though somewhat boring dissertation on the state of the generators, water purifiers, crops and a seemingly endless listing of every doodad and gadget that Salem had. Finally, he finished up, and wiped the sweat off his forehead, a little red from the exertion from speaking so much.
To head off any further discourse from the man, Nearly Headless Nick chimed in quickly.
"I've been visiting with several ghosts to the west. I'm hoping to start up a Headless Hunt here in the colonies, but there aren't many headless ghosts that I've found so far."
Nick looked around and saw that he was losing their attention, "In any case, I have heard from several of them that they've been avoiding an area to the south east; that some manner of dark magic is growing there. Any ghosts who venture close are never heard from again."
"Hrmm. That is concerning. We'd better share this with Harry once he gets back." Piper noted, her pen moving furiously to keep up with everything that was being said.
With no further news to share, Lilith led the way to the portkey, something which brought both Barney and William short, as the one time they used the device they were sick for days.
The non-descript sneaker hanging from the balcony was just high enough to keep from being touched accidentally. Reaching up on her toes, Lilith's fingers grazed the dirty old shoe and was whisked away to Kingston.
Travel by portkey was an unpleasant experience, but could not be beat for convenience, especially as even muggles could travel by it regardless of the presence of a witch or wizard.
She winced in sympathy at William and Barney's distress, their faces turning an odd shade as they clenched their eyes shut as if that would aid them in keeping their lunch. She drew her wand and tossed a simple charm to alleviate their symptoms, the magic working instantly to relieve the beleaguered men. For some reason, Piper had no issues whatsoever, which planted a nugget in Lilith's head to check how much, if any, magical potential Piper or Nat could have.
Any further ruminations on that subject froze in her head as she walked into the lighthouse and felt her breath stolen away by the golden glow.
Within the space occupied by the slender tower was a massive room and dominating its center was a burnished bronze orrery, the spheres and machined arches swirling through the air in a complicated yet entrancing ballet. She recognized Earth and its moon, several crescents of silver dancing about it like orbiting comets.
"My god, it's… it's beautiful." Neville gasped.
"My thanks, Mister Longbottom." An unearthly voice breathed, filling the space with her presence purely by the gravitas of her voice alone.
"That's puttin' it mildly." The normally taciturn Barney added, his face alit with wonder.
"I feel, stronger here." George commented, his brows drawn in confusion, "but also like I'm being pulled in multiple directions at once."
The black robed mistress coalesced from the shadows that weren't there a moment ago and wisped past the astounded group, her hand waving a pattern and making the device slow to a stop.
"Mistress Ravenclaw has assisted me in creating this orrery to map the leylines in this region. They were frayed and abused by the Muggle's Great War and called out for succor. We've re-aligned them so that they meet here with nodes in Salem, Vincentville and Croup manor."
"It is a little disconcerting when standing so close to the device." Helena explained, "But you should feel a stronger connection to your magic whenever you are in proximity of any of our settlements. Additionally, Morgan has put some of her lifeforce," Here she paused to level a ghostly frown on the ancient witch, "into a runic configuration here."
"And what does this… blah blah blah, do?" Barney asked, making no attempt to pronounce what Helena had said.
"When activated, it will erect a shield that will completely cover our lands. Protecting it from hostile magic and making it decidedly uncomfortable for anyone wishing Salem or her people harm." Morgan filled in for Helena.
"But, with your life force? Isn't that blood magic?" Neville asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
"How pedestrian." Morgan scoffed, clocking her tongue in distaste. "And also wrong."
She glided closer to Neville, and gently gripped his chin in a finely manicured hand. She guided his gaze up toward hers and it was then that he noticed the crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the strands of silver in her otherwise midnight hair.
"For every action you take, you give a little of your life, a little of your essence to the task. For the living, it isn't a problem, it's the very mechanism… the sinew of the world itself. We replenish what we use, through rest and through the consumption of other life. Like this apple."
The red of the apple she held was almost eye-achingly red against the white of her skin, her teeth perfect ivory towers even as they bit into the fruit with a crunch.
She chewed for a moment before continuing, "I've lived for so very long… longer than I deserve and almost, beyond all usefulness." Her eyes took on a faraway look, "I am called to Avalon, and my time here is almost spent. I use it to pass on my knowledge, so that the gift of magic can be reborn in this world."
Neville, mustering up some measure of temerity, "That didn't really explain anything."
Her laugh was musical, like delicate wind chimes in a gentle spring breeze.
"No, I suppose it didn't. Suffice it to say I a bit of myself into this project, and it will endure after I am gone. We can leave it at that for now."
Morgan turned suddenly and glided to a heavily gilded door to the east. It opened at her approach and with a pause and a beckoning wave to the others, she disappeared inside.
Lilith led the way to the yawning portal and glanced inside before turning to the others, "Come on!"
Inside was the second of their shocking surprises, for from floor to ceiling, the altitude of which extended beyond their mortal sight, were shelves who as of yet remained mostly empty. A clan of Pukwudgies were diligent as they worked in a small forest of scribe tables, studiously copying piles of notes into heavy leather bound books which were taken away by a swarm of pixies to their awaiting shelf.
"Everything I know is being recorded by our friends. Many volumes liberated from Ilvermorny are being copied and stored here for future use. So much had been lost… but not everything. It will be up to you to ensure it endures."
POV: Luna and Soleil
Soleil hated heights.
Yet despite her very vocal opposition to their current predicament, they both now perched on a very high rooftop, screwing one of Tinker Tom's contraptions to a largely intact antenna.
She glanced down at her feet, and slammed her eyes shut at the sight of her feet dangling over empty air, her position and safety resting entirely on Luna maintaining her levitation charm.
'Just one more screw and we can go back. Then I can punch the daylight out of Tom.'
The final screw seemed willing to cooperate and twisted easily into the rotted wood, securing the 'MILA' device and hopefully giving the conspiracy theorist the data he needed.
"All done here Luna, please let me down gently." Soleil breathed, her voice coming out at a much higher pitch than normal.
She began to breathe easier as she began to float down, her nerves finally settling as her feet settled on the wooden plank extrusion on the roof of the Cambridge construction site.
"Whew. Let's get back and tell Tom that his stupid sensor is in place. I just hope that they don't have too many of these errands for us to do before we can convince them of our goodwill." Soleil stated flatly.
Luna hummed to herself and smiled at Soleil, as if to say, 'Of course we will, you dear sweet fool.'
Soleil's expression soured at the indomitable spirit of the witch and groused, "Now we get to tromp through the guts of all the super mutants we had to fight through to get here."
Soleil turned just in time to see Luna give her a shove off the extrusion, her shock at the sudden assault coming out as a high pitched 'eep!'
Her breath caught in her throat as she suddenly found herself plummeting to her death, she closed her eyes tightly and felt dizzy as the wind whistled past her ears. She… was taking a suspiciously long time to fall to her death.
She dared to open one of her eyes and saw the ground very gradually approaching, a blissful expression on Luna's face as she floated down next to her.
'You bitch.' Soleil thought vehemently, her glare not relinquishing even as they touched down on the street.
Completely oblivious to her ire, Luna comments, "Now we won't have to get our shoes dirty climbing down all those stairs covered with mutant guts. As interesting as it smelled, I prefer not to get my new boots dirty."
If looks could kill, Luna would be commenting on how lovely it was to have a gaping bloody hole where her chest used to be while skipping and singing about daisies or some crap. At least, the thought of that morbid scene did bring some levity to the dark thoughts in Soleil's mind.
Desdemona had hinted that their next task would be their final exam, so to speak. So she was eager to get on with it and maybe get back to Salem soon. She was owed a drink from one of Barney's militiamen and she had gone far too long without a good romp. Glancing at Luna as she strolled along the dusty road, she had to wonder if a good romp would get her friend's head out of the clouds for once. Luna had paused to look at a faded billboard, putting on the most ridiculous looking glasses she had ever seen and mumbling something about the swirls… so, probably not.
A few hours and a few much needed beers later, Soleil was even more focused on her pending romantic intentions as she and Luna guided a jittery young… woman? Robot? Synth? To some kind of rendezvous at some church at the edge of Boston. The woman reminded Soleil of a radstag yearling. She looked at everything with wide-eyed shock and was simply incapable of shutting up. She had long learned to tune out the 'bot and was simply focused on watching out for threats. Luna had likewise ceased to listen but to all appearances was very conversant with the girl, though if one were to pay attention, they'd notice that they were clearly having two very different conversations.
"It's so brown up here! And the smell! It's like nothing I've ever experienced! I often talked to Danny about it, how the disinfectants tickled my nose. He always said that I should stop trying to talk to the Gen2's. Have you ever met a Gen2? They're funny when they run into something that goes against their programming. As funny as they were though, I'll be glad to never see one again. How much longer until we get there? Can I have a boyfriend once I get to the Capital Wasteland? I've heard girls like me should have boyfriends. I wonder if I can have a baby."
It never ended, and no amount of threats or bribes could stymie the flood of inane chatter that poured from the chit's mouth.
Soleil stopped and clamped a hand over the synth's mouth so suddenly that Luna walked several more steps before realizing her friend and guardian had stopped.
She thought she had heard something akin to a crackling noise, like the time a generator was shorting out and shooting sparks. When Old Donnie went to check on it, it arced into his metal chest plate and set the man to dancing a jig while he cursed and sputtered. Only this time the noise wasn't accompanied by the uproarious laughter of the rest of the gang, any laughing they were doing would be echoing from the depths of whatever hell the bastards now suffered in.
"Target identified. Initiating retrieval."
The voice was flat, robotic, and utterly terrifying to the young woman in her grasp, as she suddenly jerked and writhed in panic.
Soleil tossed her aside, her now freed mouth beginning to wail uselessly even as the guardian latched on to her collar and dragged her into cover.
Luna danced back toward her and had the presence of mind to draw her wand.
A brilliant blue beam lanced directly at them, searing a black line against the wall behind her.
"By order of the Institute, you must be destroyed."
Soleil shoved the synth down beside her and bracketed the area the shot came from with automatic fire from her own rifle.
"Engaging the hostile lifeform."
Luna stood by, holding her wand uncertainly as she peered around for the presence of the Institute foot soldiers. She spun to the right and unleashed a powerful blast from her wand, blowing the approaching Gen 1 synth to pieces.
"Fellow synth – destroyed."
"Damn right!" Soleil shouted, zeroing in on the idiot robot who kept talking and revealing its position. Seven shots erupted across its body, blasting it back in a broken heap on the pavement.
The next few moments were a blur of frenetic activity as the cream colored automatons surged from all around them and just as quickly met their end under the flash of Soleil's rifle or the sizzle of Luna's wand. The silence that descended afterwards was deafening, broken only intermittently by the choked sobs from the synth woman.
Soleil absently rubbed the woman's back and murmured soothingly even as she continued to scan the area for more Institute goons.
Luna turned to her and shrugged, a slight smile ghosting on her lips.
A smile which shifted with alarming rapidity as a gloved hand tightened on her throat and lifted her bodily from the ground.
"Fuck!" Soleil screamed, leaping from behind the barrier to try and get an angle on the black clad figure. The stranger had mysteriously inserted itself in their midst, as if bypassing the normal flow of time that everyone else had to follow.
Luna's legs swayed as it jerked her body back into Soleil's line of sight, the young witch an effective shield against her retribution. She watched helplessly as the man calmly removed the wand from Luna's grasp and tucked it into his belt.
"Asset acquired." It turned its mirrored sun-glassed gaze in her direction, "Your cooperation is appreciated."
Soleil could swear that the son of a bitch smirked even as both he and Luna disappeared in a bright blue flash, leaving only a painful after image dancing in her vision.
"FUCK!" She screamed, into an uncaring Commonwealth.
A/N: Well, here we go! Another update! I hope that this goes some way toward offering some assurance that my muse has indeed returned. And oh my, what a cliffhanger! The Institute hadn't been seen much since this story began, but they have been watching. And what do they want with Luna?