A few weeks have passed since I’d regained full autonomy. I don’t feel much different. Even as I think about travelling through the Alps again, I can’t stop the shudder that runs down my back. The idea of being stuck beneath a mountain of stone I cannot melt through fills me with dread.
If I was given another chance to join my team, would I? Do I have the nerve to put myself through that again?
I can’t say for sure. Without the enforced fear and manipulations of the knots, there should be nothing stopping me from jumping at the chance… but hesitance and doubt still overwhelm me. I can’t even blame it on anything but myself anymore. I’m a coward that would put my freedom before my friends’ safety.
The wheels of my ride rattle and clank beneath me. One axle must be slightly out of alignment as it clicks every full rotation. Maybe I should introduce the centzon to Henosis; at least they had a smoother riding experience with their vehicles.
The picture of the inverse occurring and the Empire getting their hands on the mechanical prowess of the centzon immediately makes me fear for the future. The few centzon regnas we’ve pulled into this attack are heavily interested in a trade of technologies. If they are that interested after simply seeing the sewing talent of Jav’s sisters, I’d hate to see what would happen should they shake hands with the Empire.
As I look around at the convoy of multiple hundred siege engines — which is what Grímr called them — I can’t help but question if this is the right action. Can we trust them not to take the mermineae’s place as our aggressors in their search for new knowledge?
Well, it’s too late for these thoughts, regardless. They are helping us for now, and if they turn on us in the future, we’ll just have to deal with it then.
Beside me, Grímr absently pumps a lever with his heavy taloned foot. I might have considered our ride to be impressive to not buckle under his weight, if not for how heavy this massive machine was itself. Behind us, clear trails remain of where the wheels dug through the earth to drag us forward.
In any other scenario, I’d be concerned about something finding our trail and following it to us. But out here in these vast plains with so many huge contraptions, I’d be more surprised if something couldn’t find us. We’ve had countless birds fly down and investigate already on our trip.
Grímr keeps his eyes forward, watching for the first sign of resistance that should come any time soon. We’ve been busy since the Euroclydon’s last hunt, so even though we’ve been beside each other most of the time, I’ve never had the chance to speak to him about my mental state.
My eyes drop to my hands, fidgeting in my lap. No, there’s been plenty of times I could have told him, but I never did. Despite telling myself I would talk to him, I’ve been too wrapped up in nervousness to speak up. My mind always falls back to the last time I talked about my thoughts and fears. Even though I trust him more than anyone else, it’s still hard.
There’s probably no true need for me to tell him, but I should and the more I think about the necessity of things, the harder it’ll be to just take the step I need to take and actually put my faith in him.
I take in a deep breath. “The Void Fog changed me.” I realise how sudden and confusing I might sound, so I quickly say, “I mean, more than my body. For the longest time, my mind was bent in ways I wish it weren’t.”
Feeling foolish, I look up from my hands to see the alicanto’s entire focus on me. He doesn’t speak, but his welcoming gaze encourages me to continue.
“I know you already know that the Fog altered my body, increasing my binding to what it is, but that’s not everything. I… it altered my mind. Remember the overwhelming fear I used to have? That was forced upon me. It wasn’t natural, yet I felt it all the same.”
My eyes are in my lap again. Heavy scratching makes me raise my head. Grímr scoots closer to me and slowly sweeps a wing over my back. An obvious act to comfort me.
I laugh at his stiff motions, but it comes out choked.
“In those tunnels, I pushed through the fear until the changes gave up and adapted. Instead of fear, my very thoughts and actions were taken from me. There were so many times I wanted to stab you in the back, to sacrifice you for a chance at escape.”
I am actively sobbing now, leaning into the winged hug. His metal feathers aren’t particularly comfortable, but I don’t care.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry those thoughts crossed my mind. I’m sorry I’ve been so hard to deal with. I’m sorry you haven’t been able to go home because of me.”
The words, apologies, all my guilt just flows out without restraint. A self-deprecating laugh bubbles up through the sobs. Why am I doing this? We’re on our way to start a war, and I’m here crying about an unchangeable past.
“You’re free now, right?”
“What?”
“You specified ‘were’. The Fog doesn’t have its grip on your mind anymore?”
“Uh, yeah.” I say. “Back in the regna, I was trapped and fought to regain control.”
Grímr nods, as if expecting this. I guess I had passed out for a good few hours. Of course he’d know something happened.
“Don’t concern yourself with what happened before then. I am here because I want to be and you never went forward with any of those thoughts, even while your mind wasn’t your own.”
He looks me in the eye. “Solvei, I don’t truly know what you’ve been through, and you’ve done incredible to grow as you have, but you can rely on others. After we’re done with the mermineae, we’ll celebrate you overcoming the Fog. Magnesium is your favourite, right? I’ve gotten better at telling the difference between metals. We’ll go on a search for some, yeah?”
I nod, not lifting my head because of the shame I feel. I’m not a child anymore, so why am I acting like one? Why am I being comforted when Grímr should be angry at me?
I stand and push past Grímr’s wing to stare far ahead of us, trying to calm myself down with some distraction. We’ll have to fight soon, so I need to get over this. Staying as emotional as I am won’t help anyone. It’s comforting to know Grímr doesn’t blame me, but the knowledge doesn’t reduce the guilt I feel.
He’s right, I’m free now and I should focus on that.
The hole is visible now, which is concerning. Rather than the thin fissures along the side of the Titan’s path, the entrance is now massive. A large section on the border between blackened rock and normal earth has opened. A pit leading to the depths of the mountain.
It is clear now, the battle between the Viisin and Spenne caused more damage than I’d imagined. Strangely, only the ranked stone on the side of the titan’s path is damaged. A near-perfectly straight line separates the enhanced stone from the void that drops to the dark cave.
The mermineae aren’t visible yet. We already assume the largest congregation of them has already passed into the Alps, so it’s not a surprise they aren’t populated enough for their camouflage to become ineffective. Hopefully, that means we won’t face much opposition.
Without Imiha or Spenne with us, I’m concerned about what will happen if we face a Viisin. Tzilac has assured us they can deal with them, but we’ve still not really seen them fight. The extent they’ve shown so far is the harpoons when a bird of prey attacks. The hunters hit them then drag the birds to the earth where they are ended without struggle.
I’d expected to face at least some opposition before we got this close. Unhidden as we are, they would have had days to plan ambushes to slow our approach, but we experienced nothing.
It should be encouraging, as it means there really aren’t all that many of them to face, but I feel tense all the same. It might be the concern over the Viisin, or it could be the approach of my dreaded choice.
Finally, at the edge of my range, I feel the heat of a merminea. They scuttle away almost as soon as we reach them, but every few seconds we catch up to them. At the speed we’re moving, there’s no way we’re outpacing a mermineae. More likely, they are just watching us from a distance.
A horn blares from off to my left, followed by many more along the line of siege engines. The front of the caravan slows and spreads, allowing the lagging machines to thread between them. In no time, a long line marches toward our target.
“Solvei, Grímr, we’ll be starting soon. As we’ve discussed, please remain with your machine.” Tzilac slaps the back of our siege engine in emphasis, before moving a row back to his command position.
I’ve been all but banned from using my fire. Apparently, the heat and visual impairment gets in the way of their machines’ effectiveness. For now, I’m stuck using my spear on any mermineae that get close, which is something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. I need to improve my spearmanship and not rely on my flames for everything. With an army backing me, this is the best possible place to improve.
There are four rows of heavy stone machinery in the centzon’s army. The first are the largest contraptions in their arsenal; massive, bulky things that could be mistaken for a wall in themselves. Egg-shaped machines in the second row cover the gaps between the weapons of the first. The third row — the row we are a part of — contains an array of different sized siege engines.
The final, rear row is a series of towers on wheels. While larger and heavier than the front-line machines, they don’t appear anywhere near as dangerous. They are likely only used as command centres for the hunters… is what I would think if I hadn’t already seen how they their regnas work. I don’t believe for a second they are as simple as they seem.
As we reach a league away from the hole, we grind to a halt. Almost as soon as we do, mermineae creep into my range. They are slow, but there are a lot.
“They’re sneaking up on us now,” I say to Atl, who’s our siege engine operator. “About a hundred metres away.”
He nods, unsurprised. “We have ways to find them. As much as they think they’ll have the jump on us, it has been a very long time since a yoe caught us unprepared.” He points to one of the egg-shaped contraptions ahead of us. “Just watch.”
Four centzon hunters each pump the crankshaft embedded in the back of the mechanism. Despite their combined strength, they still seem to struggle to spin it. They spin the shaft until it stops moving with a click and slides within. Three of the hunters immediately run back to our row, clambering up both our engine and our neighbours. A similar group does the same further along the line.
The last remaining hunter stands behind the egg contraption holding a lever, but looking ready to bolt at any moment. What are they waiting for? The mermineae are getting closer by the second.
I grip my spear tight as the mermineae prowl within fifty metres of our front line. Even in the small range I can feel, there are already hundreds. It’s not nearly the same density as the last time we attacked, but there are still so many.
A siren blares.
The mermineae freeze. The centzon before us pulls the lever and sprints back to the safety of our siege engine.
Nothing happens.
Seconds pass, and I’m ready to turn and question Atl, when I hear a heavy clank. Like something falling into place. The egg-shaped contraption springs forward. From stationary, it lurches forward, its uneven form flinging it high into the air as it rolls.
The machine lingers in the air, soaring toward our frozen enemies. As I watch, the skin of the egg twists inside out, leaving the once smooth stone and metal exterior as a disorganised mess of protruding blades and spikes.
A few hundred metres to each side, I catch sight of a couple more of the egg-contraptions flying.
The weapon slams into the ground just outside my sense range, but the bright red blood dying the snow leaves no doubt of the deaths inflicted upon its first bounce. On the second impact, the egg hits the tapered end and bounces back our way, tearing through dozens of mermineae as it does.
We made the first attack, but our enemies don’t stand and take it. The thousands discard attempts at subtlety and sprint toward us. Forvaal amongst their ranks work to melt away the weapons shredding through them, but the eggs prove to be self-propelled and continue to roll around in completely random directions.
The rest of the centzon army hasn’t been stationary in the meantime. The front line of siege engines flare walls of stone wide, clanking as they lock with their neighbours. I knew the centzon liked their walls, but to bring one to the battlefield?
I quickly learn that those leading machines carried not only their walls. As the mermineae throw themselves at the wall, they find themselves limbless. I can’t see what cut into them, but what I can is the transformation of vehicles holding the walls.
The wheels twist sideways, and the machine decouples from the wall. Now, each moves along the newly set defensive structure with the smooth effortlessness of a rail. A crew works a series of controls to direct the machine. A piston slides out the back as the centzon pump their cranks and I finally get an answer to their purpose; the piston disappears from my sight, but the congregating mass of mermineae on the other side of the wall are either pulped or sent flying.
“Good, right?” Atl grins down at me. My awe must be showing on my face.
They’ve barely even dipped into their collection of machinery and yet the mermineae can’t do anything. The egg in the distance finally slows to a halt, the Forvaal melting away enough of it to stop it doing anything more than spinning on the spot.
It spins for a few seconds, but when it’s clear it isn’t moving, the mermineae ignore it… which is a mistake. The egg explodes. Hundreds of blades and spikes from the remains of its exterior burst outward, ripping through hundreds of mermineae unlucky enough to be nearby.
Atl laughs at my side. “They never learn.”
The gaze Grímr passes over the battlefield is far different. Concern and resignation the most I can pick out from his body language.
Well, at least it’ll be an easy fight.
A few weeks have passed since I’d regained full autonomy. I don’t feel much different. Even as I think about travelling through the Alps again, I can’t stop the shudder that runs down my back. The idea of being stuck beneath a mountain of stone I cannot melt through fills me with dread.
If I was given another chance to join my team, would I? Do I have the nerve to put myself through that again?
I can’t say for sure. Without the enforced fear and manipulations of the knots, there should be nothing stopping me from jumping at the chance… but hesitance and doubt still overwhelm me. I can’t even blame it on anything but myself anymore. I’m a coward that would put my freedom before my friends’ safety.
The wheels of my ride rattle and clank beneath me. One axle must be slightly out of alignment as it clicks every full rotation. Maybe I should introduce the centzon to Henosis; at least they had a smoother riding experience with their vehicles.
The picture of the inverse occurring and the Empire getting their hands on the mechanical prowess of the centzon immediately makes me fear for the future. The few centzon regnas we’ve pulled into this attack are heavily interested in a trade of technologies. If they are that interested after simply seeing the sewing talent of Jav’s sisters, I’d hate to see what would happen should they shake hands with the Empire.
As I look around at the convoy of multiple hundred siege engines — which is what Grímr called them — I can’t help but question if this is the right action. Can we trust them not to take the mermineae’s place as our aggressors in their search for new knowledge?
Well, it’s too late for these thoughts, regardless. They are helping us for now, and if they turn on us in the future, we’ll just have to deal with it then.
Beside me, Grímr absently pumps a lever with his heavy taloned foot. I might have considered our ride to be impressive to not buckle under his weight, if not for how heavy this massive machine was itself. Behind us, clear trails remain of where the wheels dug through the earth to drag us forward.
In any other scenario, I’d be concerned about something finding our trail and following it to us. But out here in these vast plains with so many huge contraptions, I’d be more surprised if something couldn’t find us. We’ve had countless birds fly down and investigate already on our trip.
Grímr keeps his eyes forward, watching for the first sign of resistance that should come any time soon. We’ve been busy since the Euroclydon’s last hunt, so even though we’ve been beside each other most of the time, I’ve never had the chance to speak to him about my mental state.
My eyes drop to my hands, fidgeting in my lap. No, there’s been plenty of times I could have told him, but I never did. Despite telling myself I would talk to him, I’ve been too wrapped up in nervousness to speak up. My mind always falls back to the last time I talked about my thoughts and fears. Even though I trust him more than anyone else, it’s still hard.
There’s probably no true need for me to tell him, but I should and the more I think about the necessity of things, the harder it’ll be to just take the step I need to take and actually put my faith in him.
I take in a deep breath. “The Void Fog changed me.” I realise how sudden and confusing I might sound, so I quickly say, “I mean, more than my body. For the longest time, my mind was bent in ways I wish it weren’t.”
Feeling foolish, I look up from my hands to see the alicanto’s entire focus on me. He doesn’t speak, but his welcoming gaze encourages me to continue.
“I know you already know that the Fog altered my body, increasing my binding to what it is, but that’s not everything. I… it altered my mind. Remember the overwhelming fear I used to have? That was forced upon me. It wasn’t natural, yet I felt it all the same.”
My eyes are in my lap again. Heavy scratching makes me raise my head. Grímr scoots closer to me and slowly sweeps a wing over my back. An obvious act to comfort me.
I laugh at his stiff motions, but it comes out choked.
“In those tunnels, I pushed through the fear until the changes gave up and adapted. Instead of fear, my very thoughts and actions were taken from me. There were so many times I wanted to stab you in the back, to sacrifice you for a chance at escape.”
I am actively sobbing now, leaning into the winged hug. His metal feathers aren’t particularly comfortable, but I don’t care.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry those thoughts crossed my mind. I’m sorry I’ve been so hard to deal with. I’m sorry you haven’t been able to go home because of me.”
The words, apologies, all my guilt just flows out without restraint. A self-deprecating laugh bubbles up through the sobs. Why am I doing this? We’re on our way to start a war, and I’m here crying about an unchangeable past.
“You’re free now, right?”
“What?”
“You specified ‘were’. The Fog doesn’t have its grip on your mind anymore?”
“Uh, yeah.” I say. “Back in the regna, I was trapped and fought to regain control.”
Grímr nods, as if expecting this. I guess I had passed out for a good few hours. Of course he’d know something happened.
“Don’t concern yourself with what happened before then. I am here because I want to be and you never went forward with any of those thoughts, even while your mind wasn’t your own.”
He looks me in the eye. “Solvei, I don’t truly know what you’ve been through, and you’ve done incredible to grow as you have, but you can rely on others. After we’re done with the mermineae, we’ll celebrate you overcoming the Fog. Magnesium is your favourite, right? I’ve gotten better at telling the difference between metals. We’ll go on a search for some, yeah?”
I nod, not lifting my head because of the shame I feel. I’m not a child anymore, so why am I acting like one? Why am I being comforted when Grímr should be angry at me?
I stand and push past Grímr’s wing to stare far ahead of us, trying to calm myself down with some distraction. We’ll have to fight soon, so I need to get over this. Staying as emotional as I am won’t help anyone. It’s comforting to know Grímr doesn’t blame me, but the knowledge doesn’t reduce the guilt I feel.
He’s right, I’m free now and I should focus on that.
The hole is visible now, which is concerning. Rather than the thin fissures along the side of the Titan’s path, the entrance is now massive. A large section on the border between blackened rock and normal earth has opened. A pit leading to the depths of the mountain.
It is clear now, the battle between the Viisin and Spenne caused more damage than I’d imagined. Strangely, only the ranked stone on the side of the titan’s path is damaged. A near-perfectly straight line separates the enhanced stone from the void that drops to the dark cave.
The mermineae aren’t visible yet. We already assume the largest congregation of them has already passed into the Alps, so it’s not a surprise they aren’t populated enough for their camouflage to become ineffective. Hopefully, that means we won’t face much opposition.
Without Imiha or Spenne with us, I’m concerned about what will happen if we face a Viisin. Tzilac has assured us they can deal with them, but we’ve still not really seen them fight. The extent they’ve shown so far is the harpoons when a bird of prey attacks. The hunters hit them then drag the birds to the earth where they are ended without struggle.
I’d expected to face at least some opposition before we got this close. Unhidden as we are, they would have had days to plan ambushes to slow our approach, but we experienced nothing.
It should be encouraging, as it means there really aren’t all that many of them to face, but I feel tense all the same. It might be the concern over the Viisin, or it could be the approach of my dreaded choice.
Finally, at the edge of my range, I feel the heat of a merminea. They scuttle away almost as soon as we reach them, but every few seconds we catch up to them. At the speed we’re moving, there’s no way we’re outpacing a mermineae. More likely, they are just watching us from a distance.
A horn blares from off to my left, followed by many more along the line of siege engines. The front of the caravan slows and spreads, allowing the lagging machines to thread between them. In no time, a long line marches toward our target.
“Solvei, Grímr, we’ll be starting soon. As we’ve discussed, please remain with your machine.” Tzilac slaps the back of our siege engine in emphasis, before moving a row back to his command position.
I’ve been all but banned from using my fire. Apparently, the heat and visual impairment gets in the way of their machines’ effectiveness. For now, I’m stuck using my spear on any mermineae that get close, which is something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. I need to improve my spearmanship and not rely on my flames for everything. With an army backing me, this is the best possible place to improve.
There are four rows of heavy stone machinery in the centzon’s army. The first are the largest contraptions in their arsenal; massive, bulky things that could be mistaken for a wall in themselves. Egg-shaped machines in the second row cover the gaps between the weapons of the first. The third row — the row we are a part of — contains an array of different sized siege engines.
The final, rear row is a series of towers on wheels. While larger and heavier than the front-line machines, they don’t appear anywhere near as dangerous. They are likely only used as command centres for the hunters… is what I would think if I hadn’t already seen how they their regnas work. I don’t believe for a second they are as simple as they seem.
As we reach a league away from the hole, we grind to a halt. Almost as soon as we do, mermineae creep into my range. They are slow, but there are a lot.
“They’re sneaking up on us now,” I say to Atl, who’s our siege engine operator. “About a hundred metres away.”
He nods, unsurprised. “We have ways to find them. As much as they think they’ll have the jump on us, it has been a very long time since a yoe caught us unprepared.” He points to one of the egg-shaped contraptions ahead of us. “Just watch.”
Four centzon hunters each pump the crankshaft embedded in the back of the mechanism. Despite their combined strength, they still seem to struggle to spin it. They spin the shaft until it stops moving with a click and slides within. Three of the hunters immediately run back to our row, clambering up both our engine and our neighbours. A similar group does the same further along the line.
The last remaining hunter stands behind the egg contraption holding a lever, but looking ready to bolt at any moment. What are they waiting for? The mermineae are getting closer by the second.
I grip my spear tight as the mermineae prowl within fifty metres of our front line. Even in the small range I can feel, there are already hundreds. It’s not nearly the same density as the last time we attacked, but there are still so many.
A siren blares.
The mermineae freeze. The centzon before us pulls the lever and sprints back to the safety of our siege engine.
Nothing happens.
Seconds pass, and I’m ready to turn and question Atl, when I hear a heavy clank. Like something falling into place. The egg-shaped contraption springs forward. From stationary, it lurches forward, its uneven form flinging it high into the air as it rolls.
The machine lingers in the air, soaring toward our frozen enemies. As I watch, the skin of the egg twists inside out, leaving the once smooth stone and metal exterior as a disorganised mess of protruding blades and spikes.
A few hundred metres to each side, I catch sight of a couple more of the egg-contraptions flying.
The weapon slams into the ground just outside my sense range, but the bright red blood dying the snow leaves no doubt of the deaths inflicted upon its first bounce. On the second impact, the egg hits the tapered end and bounces back our way, tearing through dozens of mermineae as it does.
We made the first attack, but our enemies don’t stand and take it. The thousands discard attempts at subtlety and sprint toward us. Forvaal amongst their ranks work to melt away the weapons shredding through them, but the eggs prove to be self-propelled and continue to roll around in completely random directions.
The rest of the centzon army hasn’t been stationary in the meantime. The front line of siege engines flare walls of stone wide, clanking as they lock with their neighbours. I knew the centzon liked their walls, but to bring one to the battlefield?
I quickly learn that those leading machines carried not only their walls. As the mermineae throw themselves at the wall, they find themselves limbless. I can’t see what cut into them, but what I can is the transformation of vehicles holding the walls.
The wheels twist sideways, and the machine decouples from the wall. Now, each moves along the newly set defensive structure with the smooth effortlessness of a rail. A crew works a series of controls to direct the machine. A piston slides out the back as the centzon pump their cranks and I finally get an answer to their purpose; the piston disappears from my sight, but the congregating mass of mermineae on the other side of the wall are either pulped or sent flying.
“Good, right?” Atl grins down at me. My awe must be showing on my face.
They’ve barely even dipped into their collection of machinery and yet the mermineae can’t do anything. The egg in the distance finally slows to a halt, the Forvaal melting away enough of it to stop it doing anything more than spinning on the spot.
It spins for a few seconds, but when it’s clear it isn’t moving, the mermineae ignore it… which is a mistake. The egg explodes. Hundreds of blades and spikes from the remains of its exterior burst outward, ripping through hundreds of mermineae unlucky enough to be nearby.
Atl laughs at my side. “They never learn.”
The gaze Grímr passes over the battlefield is far different. Concern and resignation the most I can pick out from his body language.
Well, at least it’ll be an easy fight.
