Author's Note: As of June 27th, 2016, the entire fanfic has been rewritten. That means this chapter, all that came before it, and all that follow it now contain different content that they did previously. You are strongly encouraged to go back and reread the entire fanfic from the beginning, as the revised continuity may confuse you if you jump in part of the way through.
"Ever since Glaian's forces took the capital, we have had minimal real contact with any of our forces outside the southern provinces. According to our latest intelligence reports, however, the eastern divisions were lightly garrisoned and completely overwhelmed, most of the northern forces revolted along with Glaian's army, and the western army is fighting a losing battle trying to hold onto the coastline with the help of what remains of the navy. Most of our birds are smashed, all of the central forces are gone, and the government has taken heavy losses. We evacuated the congress to the south after the revolts, but revolutionaries hit their convoy hard. Only fourteen of the fifty senators and twenty-three of the 276 representatives made it to the safe house. We lost seven of the nine justices when their plane was sabotaged, and the remaining two are in Glaian's custody awaiting public execution. The cabinet and the rest of the executive branch as well as all of the top army generals and one admiral were killed by a team of traitors in the presidential mansion led by chief science officer Archibald Bone. Outside of the south, every government worker is being rounded up in a massive witch hunt and killed on sight. From county to city to province employees, no one is being overlooked. They aim to cut the head off the snake and take out our entire government before we can evacuate anyone off of the continent, and with the remains of our navy fighting rebel ships or in Wadralian territory trying to muster support, an evac isn't likely. We're sitting ducks out here. One raid and his army achieves total control of the entire country." Vice president Zachary Holdsten delivered his report to the president.
Zachary, Phoney, and the last remaining member of the cabinet, Aaron Findrel, all stood inside a small tent on a military base in the southernmost province, the area least affected by Glaian's attack.
"We can't give up yet." Replied President Phoney. His face had gained a sour grimace ever since the capital fell. "We've still got some fight left in us. Spread the remaining members of the government across the provinces we still have in our control. If he wants us dead, he'll have to hunt us down individually. Then we use General Victor's contingency plan Aegis Vector 34-7, one I asked him to design specifically if we reached this point in the conflict."
"Are you sure that will work? What even is it?"
"In the event that the capital falls, we set up hidden artillery placements along the walls of the canyons in the center of the province, and put as many troops as we can on standby to spring an ambush. We have a series of dummy abandoned army camps set up in their path, and we lead them to think we've stashed our reserve supplies for the army in the canyons. We lead them in, and slaughter them with any and all means available. It's the best strategy we have."
"We don't have the resources to fight them. They have mechs! We can't fight that! I say we negotiate for our surrender. That way we at least come out of this alive." Said Secretary of Homeland Security Aaron Findrel. He survived the attack on the capital only because he had been the designated survivor, and was moved to a bunker in the south as soon as the situation began to deteriorate.
"We don't have to win against their army, we just have to stall them. Give ourselves enough time to get a small team into their head compound and kill all of their top members."
"And who do you propose we send on this mission? Faldr Milzaek is dead, Nibet Trenya is a traitor, Victor is dead, Admiral Haenkos is busy trying to hold the Western Coast, and the last two remaining agents capable of something like that were exiled decades ago."
"I have a way to contact them. I'm sure that, as soon as I explain the situation, they'll be more than willing to assist in hunting down Glaian and ending him."
"That won't be necessary." Said a male voice behind the three. They all turned around to see Jigafta and X'lish, dressed in full stealth gear, standing just inside the entrance to the tent. "We've been making our way here since Faldr died."
"You're faster than I expected." Remarked Phoney. "I assume you're here to help me take out Glaian?"
"We're here to take Nibet's life." Said X'lish, "Sister and comrade or not, she killed my husband and violated his honor. I would like the pleasure of repaying her in kind."
"She was consigned to death the moment her blade entered his gut. No. The moment she pledged herself to that abominable excuse for a living organism. If you can get us into his compound to get to her, we'll kill whoever you want." Said Jigafta. The rage burning behind their eyes was palpable, and made Aaron sweat with just a glance.
"Well then I guess I can see no reason why we can't greenlight this mission. I'll have a team begin preparing a bird and jump kits for two immediately, unless you'll be bringing backup." The Secretary gulped.
"They will be, Secretary Findrel." Phoney corrected as he and the assassins headed for the door.
"Who else have you assigned for this mission? I would like to know who we're sending, at least to make sure they're competent enough to carry out the assigned task." Phoney stopped. He turned and looked Secretary Findrel in the eye. Suddenly all of the accumulated rage in Phoney's soul leapt forth at that moment.
"The third man is me, Secretary Findrel! Archibald killed my cousin! And I'm going to make him suffer for it! I'll but a bullet in his testicles for every second Smiley endured that pain, and then I'll shoot him in the gut and let him feel the life ebb out of him as my cousin did!" The Secretary was quite shocked by the outburst.
"Mr. President! I cannot allow this course of action to continue! You aren't thinking straight. I know you lost your cousin, but we cannot send you into an active war zone!" Findrel started shaking in fear of the president, and backed up a few steps out of swinging distance.
"You don't have a say in the matter anymore. Marshall Law is now in effect. Which means, until this matter is over and put to rest, I order you and Vice President Zachary to remain here and oversee the troops. And to not question my actions. In the event of my capture, my power moves to the Vice President until my release, assuming I get one." Without another word, the three left the room and walked to the other side of the camp to one of Archibald's experimental stealth dropships, a variant of the Wadralian V-22 Osprey tiltrotor aircraft, that was being fueled up.
"I'll catch up. There's something I've got to check first." Jigafta broke from the group and walked over to another one of the tents. As Phoney was about to board, Bartleby bounded up to him. Anticipating his intentions, Phoney pulled Bartleby aside as X'lish boarded the craft.
"You can't go with me Bart. It's too dangerous. I'm not losing another family member to this war." Rage ran across Bartleby's face. All of the worldly knowledge Bartleby had gained in the past five years was dwarfed by the stoic tone now present in his voice over the last five days.
"Phoncible P. Bone, if you think I give a damn about living or dying anymore, you are gravely mistaken. Smiley was my best friend, my only friend, the only one who has ever taken care of me or given a damn about anything in my life. And I'll walk all the way to the northern mountains if I have to, but I will avenge his death."
"Of course you would. You'd probably find a way on board whether I allow it or not." Phoney contemplated the matter for a moment, "Fine. Get on. I'll grab another parachute." Bartleby bounded up the ramp as Phoney walked over to the equipment rack and grabbed the biggest jump kit he could find.
Jigafta, meanwhile, ducked conspicuously through the entrance of one of the tents in the camp. Inside were dozens of body bags on tables, each labeled: Smiley Bone, Julius Freeman, Victor Bone, and so on. After a minute of searching, Jigafta found the one labeled Daniel Deyavara. He opened it up and searched through Daniel's pockets. Eventually, he fished out the blue crystal. It has grown several shades darker than when Daniel possessed it. He held it up and closed his eyes for a few moments.
"Damn, it's empty." He muttered as he opened his eyes again. He threw the crystal on the ground and crushed it beneath his foot. "Well, at least it won't be a problem anymore." He left the tent and boarded the dropship. Everyone else was already on board, Phoney and X"lish in their seats, and Bartleby curled up on the floor staring blankly at a wall. Jigafta sat down in the cockpit, relieving the pilot of his duties, and began prepping the craft for takeoff.
After several minutes of heavy silence, Bartleby began speaking.
"Look at us." He said. "We're creatures of revenge now, Phoney. Nothing left to live for after this. Do you think Smiley would have wanted that?"
"I think…" Phoney considered his response very carefully. "Smiley wanted a lot of things for the three of us. But a life of hate was certainly not on that list. Maybe after this, after we put this behind us, we could try to learn to live normally again."
"Nothing will ever be normal again. In a week, those murderers took everything from us. Now all that's left it to reciprocate the act. If you think you have a way that we can still live normally after that, by all means tell me."
"I'm still working on that part, Bart. For now though, we have a traitor to slay." As the ramp began to close and the dropship began lifting into the air, Phoney could see soldiers arrayed below him, marching off in small groups to go slow down the enemy advance. For a moment he thought of how many soldiers he would sacrifice for petty revenge. And then he thought that maybe he hadn't learned anything after all.
No. Said a voice in his head. You have changed. You're going to end this war, and make all of those lives count. It was Smiley's voice. Even after his death, he still hadn't given up on Phoney. So Phoney decided not to give up on him, or his dreams. Phoney would become a better person, and earn the respect Smiley had for him these last five years.
It was more than three hours to the landing site. Plenty of time to think. Plenty of time to regret. Phoney always hated long trips. In the back of his mind, he thought his could hear Smiley playing his old guitar, laughing and smiling and passing the time as they traveled back across the desert on that ox cart. Maybe after it was all over, Phoney would learn to play. But for now though, all that mattered was Archibald.
"It is simply out of the question! We cannot allow our meeting with the Pawan dignitaries to be spoiled by a creature of his caliber! He does not understand our customs and in his presence you make irrational decisions!" Thorn stared blankly ahead as Johansson barked at the top of his lungs. "All this week you have missed meeting after meeting while you two have been gallivanting around the royal palace with no care for your duties whatsoever, to the point where The High Priestess and your own mother moved their pilgrimage to Deren Guard ahead by two months because there was nothing they could do here. This gala tonight will be the culmination of everything you have worked for as a Queen, and I will not allow his presence to ruin the most important day for Atheian-Pawan in history!" It was at this moment that Fone Bone walked into the room and into the conversation.
"You won't allow what exactly?" He said as the guild master was catching his breath in preparation for another blast of anger. Johansson whirled around in a fit of rage.
"You! How dare you intrude on her majesty's court unannounced! I tire of your blatant disregard for our people's customs!"
"I'm not here to debate whether or not I respect your people's way of doing things," Fone retorted. "But you need to understand something. This kingdom is exactly that, a kingdom. She has final say in everything that takes place. As I understand you are a more obstinate fellow that you were under Tarsil, but you need to get your head on straight. You have absolutely zero job security. With one word Thorn could have you stripped of your title and have an equally competent but less stubborn guild master put in you place. So next time you want to contradict what she says, just think about how much fun it would be to have your profession changed to beggar."
"You insolent little-"
"As an aside, who in this room has entered a ghost circle of their own power and survived?" He raised his hand, and, struggling to hold back her grin, Thorn did the same.
"Or entered Tanen Guard and survived?" Their hands stayed up.
"Or killed the Lord of the Locust?" Johansson looked as if her were about to burst. "Remind me again who's insolent here?" Fone stood for a moment, awaiting an answer. Johansson fumed, but got the message. He didn't reply, but his face contorted like that of a caged animal. "I take my leave." Fone Bone said, as he put his hand back down, bowed in an overdramatic fashion, and walked back out of the room.
"Do you have anything else to say, guild master?" Asked Thorn, still barely containing the laughter that had been building up inside her.
"No, your majesty." He said, defeated and humiliated.
"You may go." Johansson walked off, eyes downcast, while he mumbled to himself about how he was going to get Fone eventually. After a few minutes, Thorn decided no other business would present itself, and walked back to her room, which was just to the right of the throne room. She undid her hair and removed her tight, restricting clothing in favor of some robes that allowed a little more dexterous movement. With that done, she walked out onto the balcony and hoisted herself up onto the bannister. From there, she clambered onto the rooftop and made her way to where she and Fone had begun meeting in the last week to talk in private, away from prying ears. He was there, staring up at the sky, waiting for her, like he always was. He noticed she had arrived, and sat up.
"The nerve of that guy." he said, "I still can't believe people are still dogging you like you're some kid after five years on the throne. You'd think they would've learned by now that you can make decisions for yourself." She sat down beside him.
"I don't know if it's that simple. Most of my reign has been picking up pieces, convincing people that I wasn't some big mistake, working out how to put things back to normal. I've had to rely on a lot of help for that, and I guess the guild master has gotten too used to having that kind of say in my decisions. Thanks for setting him straight, though wasn't your approach a bit…" She paused mid-sentence searching for the word.
"Rash?" Fone Bone completed her thought. A small smile began to grow on her lips. "Well that guy didn't know jack." After a few seconds of silence, they both burst out laughing.
"You know," she said, "Having you here has made that last week more fun that the last five years. Hell, with you here I might even make it through the party tonight."
"Right the party… What's up with that anyway?"
"Our relationship with the Pawans is still shaky at best. Most of our merchants have refused to trade with them, and some of our citizens have boycotted the rebuilding of the bridge. The damage done in the last war was really bad. So we're hosting a gala tonight in the Pawans' honor, and their two ruling princes will be attending. And it is at this meeting that the royal court, most of it anyway, wants me to choose a suitor from the two." With this last line, Fone turned slightly to the side to avoid Thorn reading his emotions.
"Damn." He muttered under his breath. Thorn didn't notice.
"Of course I probably won't be. Marriage is about the furthest thing from my mind right now. Besides they're both total idiots." Fone breathed an almost inaudible sigh of relief. "But, suitors or not, I still have to go to yet another bland, drab exercise in pointlessness and social etiquette. And to think six years ago my biggest stressor was milking cows."
"I don't know, a party doesn't sound all bad. I mean there'll be food and music and dancing and laughter and…" Fone Bone started to try to cheer her up.
"These aren't like the celebrations we had back on the farm. They're lifeless, soulless. Like all of the vigor has been sucked out of every person in the room, and the only reason they're there is because they feel that they have to be. The music is dull, the food uninteresting, and the faces stoic and unfeeling. They don't even dance."
"Well we'll have to change that. From now on, no one holds a party in this palace without some fun in it. And I've got just the thing too. I brought some of my old records, I could set up a player near the entrance and set the mood to… Hey!" Thorn had nodded off in mock sleep. "I haven't even mentioned Moby Dick since I got back, the least you could do is stay awake when I talk about something else." She opened one of her eyes, and they both started laughing again.
"It almost feels like were back on the farm, doesn't it Fone Bone."
"Almost. And someday, when all of this political juggling is over, maybe we can go back. Remember things as they used to be."
"Someday? I didn't think you were planning to stay that long. I thought you had just come by to make sure we were ok. Half of me keeps thinking I'll wake up one morning and you'd be back on that horizon, leaving me again."
"I wasn't planning on leaving. If I'm going to spend the rest of my life somewhere, it might as well be somewhere I fell at home, and that sure as hell wasn't Argus City. I'm here to stay. What, it that a problem?"
"No! Hell no. It's just… I was scared to hope that you'd come back. You made your choice, and left, and that was fine, and I dealt with it. But now you're back, and I'm scared even more because I don't want you to leave again. The first time was hard enough, having you here again and then loosing you… I don't know if I could deal with that." She turned away from him, the glisten of newborn tears in the corners of her eyes.
"Hey," He said, gently turning her face back toward his, "I'm not going anywhere. I promise. This time I won't leave you. I promise." His fingers felt warm against her face. Soft. Like the caress of the sun as it lowers over the distant mountains.
"Crap." She said, breaking the depth of the moment like a sledgehammer.
"What."
"The party is in an hour! I've got to go get ready." She shot up, and walked back to her balcony. "See you at the party!" She shouted back at him as he climbed down his own pathway, "Don't forget the mood-setter you promised to bring."
"I won't. See you in an hour." They both climbed back down their opposite sides, and she began preparing her outfit and reassuring herself of the speech she had planned while he frantically ran to his car to retrieve the record player, and hope he brought an extension cord long enough to use it. The whole way he thought about the connection they had shared on the roof. That spark between them. Maybe she had felt it too. Thinking about it gave him a renewed burst of energy, and he ran off out the door. As he reached his car, so did tiny, invisible metallic eyes, ready to report back all they had seen. Ready to report back the secrets of Tanen Guard.
Lorimar, one of the last of the First-Folk, and envoy of her dying people to the Dragon Council, stood in the innermost chamber of Deren Guard. Sitting around her in their stone basins were the three members of the Dragon Council. They were in the middle of an argument, and Lorimar felt uneasy in their presence. One flare of temper from one of them could burn her to a crisp in second. Her people lacked bodies of their own, and transferred their souls between objects molded into a humanoid shape when they strayed from the inner depths of the Dreaming. Her preference had always been plants, and as a result stood among three dangerous fire breathing beasts cloaked in a form made entirely out of shrubs, vines, and small branches.
"Do you think his dreams hold any water?" Asked Korin, leader of the Dragon Council. "I personally do not consider them compelling enough to send out our most devoted worshiper to fetch him as soon as she arrives, especially during a time when she should be kept close at hand."
"I've seen his beacon myself. I can attest that the Crown, and Mon'Yaran, are trying to tell him something. He feels threatened. This is the third incident in the last six years. I think the time is upon us." Said a second dragon named Quimrath.
"If Mon'Yaran is really communicating to this extent, then the Crystal Councilman is not far from being free. The Locust and the Nacht were but mere proxy instigators to destabilize his prison in the desert." The third member of the Dragon Council, Vokelle, turned to Lorimar. "Perhaps you could commune with the Crown, glean some knowledge of what is to come."
"I already have." Lorimar responded, glad to finally be recognized in the conversation. "He remains silent. It appears that the expansion weighs heavy on his soul. Whatever the black eyes are planning, he cannot see it. But at least the process is going smoothly. Soon the black eyes will be opened once more, and the Crystal Councilman will lack the fuel to reopen his minions' gates."
"And should they reach the Valley before that happens?" Asked Korin.
"Then we will have to deal with the Awakened Council's return. But that outcome may be preferable since it will allow us to expose the last vestiges of opposition to the everlasting dream."
"And what of the Great Red Dragon? Since his initial report, we have kept him in the dark, but even he must be feeling Mon'Yaran's soul at work. We cannot hide this forever."
"I will deal with the black eyes' sympathizer. You three make the final preparations. They have discovered the tomb. It is only a matter of time before they release the Crystal Councilman. And then the race against time will begin."