Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child

Chapter 37: Book 1-14.2: Cataclysm


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For hundreds of paces around the Watchtower, the corpses of uncountable swarmlings shed green motes of light, while the rest of its body decomposed. The carapace broke down, muscles liquified, and their blue blood seeped into the barren earth.

The west side of the tower was already a barren place, consisting mostly of dried and cracked soil, with piles of broken stones and deadwood. The other sides of the tower, which should have been covered in short green grass, was now littered with more bodies instead.

Normally, the militiamen on the walls would be celebrating after such a victory. More honestly, they would be cheering over the bounty of Chaos dust present in each of the bodies. A field filled with this many would literally translate to a field of gold coins. However, left too long alone and any worth that could have been extracted from it would turn into poison, not of the body, but of the very earth that sustained these brave men and women.

The Gemheart inside the Watchtower would have slowed the process down long enough for the militiamen to harvest the bounty around them but not today; the tide of monsters that came had all but overwhelmed them.

Theo Rani Stuart, Vice-Commander of the Watchtower, chewed a handful of kaf leaves fitfully while he stared, red-eyed, at the horde. More specifically, he was gauging how much strength his troops had left and if they had to engage the tower’s advanced defences. Doing so would have grave repercussions, not only to the treasury, but the fact that the Gemheart’s effects would be cut off as soon as the barrier was put up; that meant this horde would be free to rampage beyond the Watchtower’s buffer zone, killing all the people in the surrounding areas and ravaging the crops, setting off a period of famine that could last for the next couple of years.

‘Though maybe fewer people would also mean fewer mouths to feed.’ The thought came unbidden and he chased it away furiously.

If he allowed these things to pass, then a court-martial and an execution would probably be his future. What a time for the actual commander of the Watchtower to be absent, leaving all the responsibility on his unworthy shoulders.

The leaves were ground to bits in his mouth, the bitter juices zapping his mind and stirring his Animus reserves. He’d been on the sniper’s nest at the very top of the tower and he’d managed to shoot down some of the Wanderers within the horde, but it amounted to little more than wasted Animus. Any of the sharpshooters on the battlements could have done the same thing. Now, if Virgil had been here, he would have plugged that shadowy bastard right in the face and ended things right there and then.

‘A pox on that Inquisitor!’ he thought furiously. ‘What could she have found that warranted drawing away the county’s strongest elements?’ If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought the Inquisitor was sent here to sabotage their defence efforts.

Either way, there wasn’t much they could do about their situation now. The walls were being protected, the body ramp the first wave of swarmlings had built up had already collapsed with their death, while the new wave started building up a new ramp. Destroyers leaned over the walls every fifty paces along its length and showered the critters with fire, lightning, or frost, depending on their Facets, while other destroyers made use of portable, handheld plasma cannons to bombard the swarmlings further.

There were fewer defenders on the wall now. He had given the command to rotate a third of their forces to rest while the others carried on the fight.

Fwoom! Boom!

The artillery towers spoke vehemently, shooting plasma balls nearly a pace wide where the swarmlings were bunched up. This usually happened near the walls and the superheated plasma ran down the reinforced stone, making it harder for the swarmlings to climb.

With their supplies, Theo estimated they could survive a continuous assault for at least half of the season to maybe eight weeks. They needed to get word back to Rumiga City and allow the Imperial Legion stationed there to act. It would be trivial for the Legion to mop up this rabble, but he didn’t look forward to the paperwork he had to go through just to make the request, not to mention the disgrace he would face if it turned out that they didn’t need the Legion’s help after all.

The Eternal Empire controlled nearly a hundred different planes. Some of them are far larger than Rumiga, some smaller. It didn’t help that the plane of Rumiga wasn’t under the Empire’s complete control. Only the City and about a thousand leagues around it. That left a lot of space to other powers and nations.

The Imperial Legions were the spears against foreign aggression, while the militia was the shield.

Theo sighed. The battle was well in hand, and they could only slog through the continuous assault. At least the swarmlings had stopped spilling out of the Tidelands and were once again congregating around the Watchtower though as before, a large fraction of them broke away from the Gemheart’s influence.

Faron’s Crossing, as the nearest population centre, wasn’t undefended. In fact, there was far more strength concentrated there than here. It was the outlying villages nearby that were vulnerable, though swarmlings might not reach too far from the Tidelands anyway. He needed to get word to each of them as well as the militia’s outposts in the surrounding areas.

Theo quickly climbed down the stairs, hurrying to the communication arrays in the middle of the tower. Messenger cranes wouldn’t cut it; they didn’t have the range. He stopped by the Commander’s office and picked up the key. As the Vice-Commander, he had the passcode to access the communication arrays in an emergency and Commander Davar had made his own preparations anyway.

It took him a few minutes to arrive at the chambers below. The centre of the array was in a room just above the tower core beside the Gemheart’s access room. The Communication Room was filled with jade-alloyed metal shaped into curved discs and inscribed with runescript. At the centre of the room was a small desk with a crystalline screen and a stylus made of white jade beside it.

He held the key, a narrow rectangle made of white jade and carved with gold and copper alloy. He inserted his Animus into it, allowing the imprint to identify him. When the circuitry started glowing, he inserted it into the screen which lit up and displayed several complex runes in squares.

He pressed the one that indicated Faron’s Crossing’s relay point and started composing his message.


“23rd Day of Fire
3rd Hour after Sunrise
Watchtower

Attn: Constable Tara Seoni Andersen

Wyldling Wave started near midnight. Composition being Wanderers and swarmlings. All Wanderers neutralized. Swarmlings too numerous to contain.

Currently facing the second wave, numbers greater than previous.

Be advised that swarmlings have broken away from the tower.

Theo Rani Stuart
Vice-Commander of Watchtower
Currently in command”


The crystal screen would send the message to a similar system in Faron’s Crossing but would also drain jade cartridges of their Animus
charge. The farther the distance, the higher the consumption. However, Faron’s Crossing should be able to relay the message to Rumiga City should the need arise and, more importantly, it would be Alderman Rivos and the Council’s decision to call for help, not his.

Feeling slightly content, he activated the runescript to send the message. The runes lit up around him, swirling as they powered up, but just as the light converged to the crystal and shot up the pillar in the middle, it faded away.

“Chaos!” he bellowed. It was Chaos, or more specifically, the taint left behind by the Wyldlings. It had unexpectedly grown thick enough to block Animus transmissions. It looked like he needed to arrange to have the message delivered in another manner. He sat back on the chair, deep in thought, before his eyes lit up.

“Ah, I should use them. They need to be sent to safety anyway,” Theo muttered. He transcribed his letter from the crystal and to paper and sealed it with wax impressed with his sigil and Animus. Then, he left the room and made his way back to the ground level, found a trainee and sent the lad to fetch the person he wanted to see.

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“You want me to do what?” Kale asked with furrowed brows and a fist to his hip. He and Rorke had been on the wall until the end of the first battle then they had been shipped off to the barracks to rest and recover.

Their time on the wall had been…exhilarating. He had not expected to face such a mass of enemies during his training post. He was in the Watchtower Commander’s Office facing Vice-commander Stuart from across the desk.

The Vice-Commander was just a bit taller than he was but the other man’s physique was leagues above Kale’s. Where the young man was wiry and lithe, Stuart was built like his muscles had muscles. It contrasted sharply with the man’s half-lidded expression that looked like he found everything wearying and he’d rather take a nap or, at least, be somewhere else.

“I want you to take a message to Faron’s Crossing and deliver it to Constable Tara Andersen and Alderman Ferell Rivos,” Vice-Commander Stuart repeated in his monotone voice.

“Why me?” Stuart gave him a pointed look. Kale just shrugged. “I’m enjoying my time here. I don’t intend to return to Rumiga City until the Academy’s term starts.”

“This is an emergency, Mr. Kinnock,” Stuart said evenly. “If I didn’t need someone to personally deliver the letter, I would not have asked you. Please ready yourself. How many do you want to bring with you?”

Kale cocked his head. He really didn’t want to leave just yet. The battle had stimulated his Heritage and he felt that he was close to opening another Facet. His Animus capacity had reached the minimum level to qualify for Journeyman a year ago but unlocking more aspects of his Heritage was much more difficult and had much to do with his personal enlightenment.

“It’s not a request, really,” Stuart continued, “Out of respect for the…your family, I choose you amongst all others, as having the best chance to get past the swarmlings outside or survive however many stragglers there are out there.”

Kale sighed. “Understood, sir. I’ll only take my shield brother with me.”

Vice Commander Stuart handed over their orders as well as a sealed letter. “This will fold into a messenger crane as soon as it gets within range of the town. Nevertheless, report to the council when you arrive and await further orders. Dismissed.”

Kale saluted, fist to heart, turned on his heels, and left. He had barely had an hour’s sleep when the trainee barged into his room with the summons. He rushed back there, already thinking of what he would take with him on this trip. There was no telling if they would be asked to pass on the message across the Zarek Mountains and all the way to Rumiga City, though using Comm Arrays would be faster.

He didn’t quite understand why the array here at the Watchtower failed though he supposed it was from the Chaos miasma released by the dead swarmlings. He fingered the hilt of the greatsword he had over his shoulder. The weapon had been a gift from his mother and it was one of the reasons he had such an easy time on the walls.

He shuddered as he remembered the blood of the fallen spilling on the battlements and how he, and others like him, had to step over or sometimes on the bodies in a bid to get to the enemy before it could secure a beachhead.

He vividly recalled his Animus streaming down the entire length of his blade, making short work of the swarmlings’ carapace. Sometimes his Animus formed into a blade extending beyond the metal of his weapon, cutting through the swarmlings more easily while safely flowing over his comrades without harming a single hair on their heads. He could launch that materialised blade, too, but that would have consumed all of his invested Animus--not a good idea in a battle of attrition.

He arrived in the dorm room he shared with Rorke. His friend was sprawled on his bunk bed, snoring loudly.

“Rorke.”

“Hurrrnnn, ngorrk.”

“Rorke, wake up.”

More snoring.

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed Rorke’s foot and dragged him off the bunk.

Thud. Ngorrk.

Rolling his eyes, Kale started putting clothes and toiletries into a backpack. He couldn’t bring all of his personal effects with him as it wouldn’t fit in the flying shuttle they would need to take but that was fine. Either he’d be back here soon and it wouldn’t matter, or the militia would send his luggage back to the Academy once term starts.

Once he was packed, he dropped the backpack onto Rorke’s head.

“Hrrm, what what? Are we under attack?” The other young man grunted but he would have fallen back to sleep if Kale didn’t kick his foot.

“We have orders to bring a message to Faron’s Crossing. Pack up. We might be away for a while.”

“Sure. Just five more minutes.”

“Now, please.”

“Right. Fine, fine.”

Rorke yawned and got up. In short order, both of them were in uniform, carrying their weapons and backpacks filled with supplies. They made their way to the hangar where the flying shuttles were stored. He presented his orders to the engineer on duty, who gave a salute and handed him the key to one of the warbird series flying shuttles.

“Ancestors guide you, young sirs,” the woman said while she opened the gates.

Taking a deep breath, Kale and Rorke mounted the shuttle, and they careened out of the Watchtower as fast as they could. Below them, yet another wave of swarmlings besieged the tower. And it looked like the two of them were their countrymen’s only hope to bring salvation.

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