Vacant Throne

Brakkt strode forward, undaunted by the group of infected before him.

The group was relatively small. Twelve. No. Thirteen. One was occluded by a larger body in front of it. None looked particularly dangerous. Surely none were as aware as the infected Taker had been… or even his infected younger sister. They were the same low-level infected that he had been killing for the last week.

So far, they didn’t know where the infected were coming from. One or two might have been missed by the Astral Authority. Two or three dozen? Alyssa had a low opinion of the monsters, but even that seemed like too many. There was a theory that the Astral Authority had been interrupted. Trik suggested that Alyssa and Irulon taking down their leader had forced the rest to retreat before they had fully cleared all the infected that had crawled out of the pit.

That was the best theory he had heard so far and was definitely the one he hoped was true. The other ideas were far worse. There hadn’t been any evidence of a new pit opening—Alyssa had confirmed to him that the pit at Owlcroft had been closed. If these things were crawling out, they were coming from a new pit.

Brakkt had ventured close to the pit while going after Alyssa and Izsha on their first excursion just after arriving at Illuna. He knew well the overbearing sensation of despair that grew stronger the closer he was to the pit. The enchantments on his sword that calmed his mind and focused his will had helped to ignore it, but it had still been there.

Here, out in the wilderness a few days out from Illuna, he had yet to sense anything even remotely similar. If the pit started small, maybe even the size of a single person, it could be understandable that he wouldn’t sense much. But he still felt that he would have sensed something.

It was definitely something they were on the lookout for.

Trik had posited another possibility. While fighting the Astral Authority, the demon in charge had sent out a call for assistance. The call could have been global for all anyone knew. New infected might be arriving for weeks or months as they tried to reinforce a position that no longer held any value for the demons. That was a fairly plausible theory that, unfortunately, meant that Illuna would be dealing with infected for some time, possibly from all different directions. Though if they were heading to reinforce the former pit at Owlcroft, a great many would bypass Illuna completely as they came from different directions. Illuna’s guard were well trained and experienced in dealing with infected. Smaller towns and villages around… potentially clear to the coasts… they might have a harder time dealing with infected. No. Rather. There was no might about it.

Infected wandering through a town with no guards and no warning was a recipe for a ghost town.

Assuming that Trik’s theory had any merit at all, Brakkt had sent word back to his father regarding reinforcing towns, villages, and outposts. Despite the haste with which he had acted, it might even be too late now. There were numerous small villages. A single infected could depopulate one. This was an emergency of utmost concern.

But not a concern he could deal with at the moment.

Brakkt raised his sword, gripping its hilt with both hands. The shimmering edge of the enchanted blade came down on the nearest infected. An arm fell to the ground as the former human’s upper half split from armpit to hip. There was resistance at the bones, but his sword glided through far easier than it had on the Taker. Brakkt didn’t stop moving just because one foe had fallen.

Twisting his grip, he continued moving his sword in a wide sweep. Three legs fell from their torsos and the latter body lost half its hip. He stepped forward, crushing the skull of one of the fallen infected beneath his boot, thrusting with the point of his sword. A thrust was a dangerous attack to commit to. He had seen plenty of otherwise well-trained knights fall in battle because their sword got stuck inside the body of a dead or dying enemy.

His sword was different. Even if the bones of these infected were strong enough to withstand the enchantments on his sword, he would still be able to remove it without much effort.

As it was, Brakkt didn’t need to pull it back at all. It pierced the infected’s heart. Dragging his sword upward, he spit the thing’s chest in two.

Brakkt continued forward. He slashed, struck, and progressed through the dozen infected without a single scratch on his armor. The infected were being torn apart. Literally. Blood and body parts rained around him. They didn’t know when to retreat. They lacked the cognitive functions required to organize themselves in anything but a horde. Overwhelming numbers would be a problem, but there would have to be a lot more of them to overwhelm him.

The last infected fell, head neatly removed from its shoulders. Brakkt stepped back, slowly surveying the area. A few of the infected were still moving, sill alive. Their bodies were torn apart. They likely wouldn’t survive for long. There was no need to test that.

Brakkt methodically went around, skewering each of their skulls.

Pentagrams were already springing up around the fully dead. A few months ago, he would have paid them no mind except to destroy them shortly after they were created. Now, however, Brakkt stared at the latest one. It was… unnerving to know that there was a monster there. An invisible monster harvesting the souls of the deceased stood mere sword lengths away from him, watching him. He considered trying to slice his sword through what looked like empty space where he suspected the true demon to be.

But he held back. The true demon had fought with the Justice. Perhaps had even come out ahead against it. Even if it hadn’t, it had fought for weeks. From Irulon’s account of the Astral Authority’s leader, he had no doubt that his sword wouldn’t be able to top its damage, no matter how good its enchantments were.

So he simply watched, observing the manifesting pentagrams to ensure that all the infected were accounted for and truly dead.

Only when the last pentagram cooled did he finally return his sword to its sheath. He let out a shuddering breath as he turned his back on the battlefield and started walking back to the others. They were out a short way. Off at a small camp that they had erected specifically for burning the bodies of infected that they came across. A small temporary outpost.

He had to wonder how the other teams that were supposed to be reclaiming bodies were doing. Had they run across several living plagued individuals? Had they dealt with them? Or had they been wiped out? The reclamation teams did have a small contingent of guards with them. After he saw what this team had to deal with, he had sent a Message back to Illuna requesting that all the other teams be reinforced. The guards were well versed in dealing with infected. A dozen of them? Brakkt wasn’t sure how well they could handle what he just fought through.

Ensou met him halfway to the camp. Normally, he would have fought with the draken at his side. Ensou could handle infected. But that was part of the reason he had left the draken behind. If more of the plagued came up on the camp while he was out, he wanted someone who could handle a similar situation to be ready to fight.

But that seemed to not be a concern at the moment or Ensou wouldn’t have come to him. Patting the large draken on the side of the neck, Brakkt climbed on its back. They made it back to camp in only a few seconds from there.

Trik was waiting for him, standing just outside the ring of tents that had been set up. Hands clasped behind his back, he gave a respectful nod to Brakkt as the draken approached. “Back faster than expected,” he said once Brakkt dismounted.

“Whoever counted did a poor job. There were half as many as I was told.”

“No sign of any fleeing or otherwise hiding?” At Brakkt’s shake of a head, Trik shrugged and said, “Hard to count when they’re all meandering about randomly. Better to overstate the threat and go in prepared for worse than to find yourself overwhelmed after getting bad information.”

Brakkt couldn’t really argue with that, though he would really prefer accuracy in all circumstances. In this particular instance, no harm came of the error. Still, he would give a stern talking-to to the guardsman who had been on watch.

“Nothing amiss in the camp?”

“No other sightings of active plague carriers. Shall I gather up the men and head out to dispose of those corpses you just created?”

Taking a deep breath, Brakkt nodded slowly. There had been no sign of other infected. This area, quite a bit north of Illuna, was fairly flat and unobstructed terrain. He would have been able to see anyone that wasn’t crouched down in hiding. He supposed it was possible that an infected had done so… “Ensou will escort you. Just in case I missed one.”

Trik turned to the draken with a respectful nod. “I’ll take care of it. Go take a break. You’ve earned it.”

Brakkt didn’t argue. Leaving the cleanup to everyone else, he headed back toward his tent. Trik split off to go toward what was the current communal tent. Most people had been standing by, waiting for Brakkt to finish anyway. It didn’t take much to organize them and get them out to where the fight had taken place. His tent was a smaller thing that he had brought himself. Just large enough to fit him and Ensou with a single small bedroll inside.

He sloughed off some of his armor. Not all of it. At the moment, he was the primary defender of the camp and didn’t want to be completely defenseless. Even still, he was fairly exhausted. Fighting always took a decent chunk of energy out of him. Being out on the hunt for infected didn’t help. Same with living in a tent and eating military rations. When outside a city or town, he much preferred to hunt for his own food. Not really an option at the moment unless he and Ensou wanted to leave the camp to their own defenses.

Most draining of all was knowing what he was missing out on back in Illuna.

Alyssa had found the apophis. It was apparently much larger than Rokien had implied…

“Ugh…” he grumbled to himself. I want to go back. Duty called, but his personal interests were calling just as hard.

He knew in his mind that the apophis wasn’t even around Illuna anymore. It was somewhere else. Probably at the oasis, but maybe not even there if Volta thought to move it. Even still, his heart wanted to rush back and find the monster just to see what it might be like. It couldn’t speak according to Alyssa, but perhaps it could use its tail to write. What questions he had for such a monster… He could spend weeks conversing, he was sure.

Just thinking about all the things he might ask made him long to leave even more. He had to put it out of his mind.

If the apophis was going to stick around the city, it wouldn’t have been that bad. He could have been patient knowing that he would be able to meet it upon his return. But the thought that it might vanish into the wilds forever hurt.

Brakkt shook his head as he took a seat on the ground near his bedroll. Some of his armor was covered in bodily fluids that he did not wish to get into his bed. The cloth he had been using to keep his armor tidy was in desperate need of replacement, but there wasn’t much out here to clean it with. No nearby rivers or lakes. The water they carried was for consumption, not for cleaning. In a day, the camp was going to continue moving around the perimeter of Owlcroft. There would be a river then, but…

To take his mind off other topics, Brakkt focused entirely on maintaining his armor. His sword could use a little work as well. Its enchantments kept it sharp, but they did not extend to its cleanliness. So far, he had never spotted a flake of rust upon its blade. No need to test whether or not that would persist if he left it coated in infected innards.

Brakkt kept his eyes closed as he cleaned, relying on his experience to guide him. It was a peaceful and relaxing exercise. Almost meditative. The smooth curves of his armor under his fingers were familiar enough that he could tell exactly which piece he had in his hands. For the sword, there weren’t multiple pieces to it. Yet his hands glided over it in carefully practiced movements without any danger of accidentally cutting himself.

“Sir.”

Brakkt glanced up, wondering why Trik was at his tent so soon. He just about asked until he noticed a few things. Trik’s outfit was coated in a fresh layer of dusty brown dirt. His boots in particular were far muddier than he normally kept them. Behind Trik, outside the tent, the sky had changed as well. The light was a much harsher orange.

Looking down at his gear, Brakkt found it all spotless. Or as spotless as it could get without clean cloth to maintain it. Taking care of his gear was not a short task. It had been… hours. Three? Four? Brakkt didn’t ask. He simply looked back to Trik, setting his sword aside as he gave the commander his full attention.

“No issues?”

“Pentagrams have been destroyed and bodies are being carted to the disposal point.”

“Good.”

Trik nodded, but he hesitated in leaving. Both his hands were clasped behind his back as he looked down on Brakkt.

“Was there something else?”

“There was a monster observing us. The Astral Authority creature with numerous eyes.”

Brakkt tensed, getting to his feet. The tension drained slowly. Trik was fine. He looked messy, but that came from work, not combat. Whatever happened had not been a concern. Still… “You didn’t Message me?”

“It’s gone now,” Trik continued. “Flew off toward Owlcroft. I thought to send you a Message but hesitated, remembering how they acted back at the wall. They ignored us completely except when we started interacting with them. They didn’t fight us, but the way they looked at us when anyone mentioned attacking them had me ordering the men to ignore it and pretend that it didn’t exist. It seemed to have worked.”

“Understandable,” Brakkt said after a long breath. He was just glad that no one had gotten hurt. “Alyssa did say that the Astral Authority might still be around, but they are locked out of their transit and should be far less numerous as a result. If the few that are around want to come take care of the stragglers, that’s fine with me. Takes away some of my work.”

Still, it was mildly concerning. He would have to send a Message to Alyssa sooner rather than later. He meant to send her one a day ago. Then again a day before that. But every day, he kept hoping that he would simply return home and give her a debriefing in person. However, this could be a problem. Especially if their leader returned. A Message would have to be sent.

A part of him hoped that the Astral Authority would come back. At least in smaller numbers. Them cleaning up the infected again would let him go back to Illuna all the sooner.

“Keep an eye out for more. I don’t imagine we’ll need to double the watch, but have everyone on guard be aware that they should search the skies just as much as they are watching the ground. Ensure that no one tries to interact with them. They should leave us alone even if they are here in force.”

“Understood. I’ll let the men know.”

Trik started to turn away, but Brakkt stopped him with a gesture.

“The other camps,” Brakkt started. “Has there been any word from them yet?”

Slowly, Trik shook his head. “I can check again with the Messenger, but since the last time you asked…”

“I see. How well do you think the men here would be able to fend off an attack by infected?”

“Our group is the smallest. Others would have an easier time than we would. Their training seems roughly on par with the Lyrian plague containment team. A gathering like today’s may prove difficult, but if we can scatter them, draw them apart, or otherwise pick them off one by one, I imagine we wouldn’t have too much difficulty. Planning on going to investigate on your own?”

“We haven’t received Messages thus far. I imagine it may already be too late. Illuna was supposed to send reinforcements. Perhaps the Messengers of the groups were the only ones harmed. But someone should investigate. Ensou can get me around the area of operation far faster than anyone else would be able.”

“When will you be leaving?”

“Tonight. Just after a meal. And I may make a short stop at Illuna to resupply and see if their reinforcements have contact information. I want you to send a Message directly to me before and after every engagement with hostile forces. During if you are ambushed. Fail to do so and I will have to assume that you’ve been wiped out.”

Trik pressed his lips together, nodding. “I understand. I’ll order the cook to prepare tonight’s meal now so that you may leave sooner.”

“I appreciate it.”