THE “FEAR AND HATE” ARC CONTINUES…
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(Made With Canva)
‘The Artefact Taskforce has come back,’ said Reuben as he sat next to Hugh on the steps leading up to the prison block. He rested his hands on his knees and sighed. His blue eyes glittered brightly, but they were tired. The drama with George’s Ov’l powers and with the Ynaev’s recent artefact-holding meteorite were worrying him – Hugh didn’t have to be a genius to work that out.
Hugh bit his lip. ‘What are they saying? Anything good?’
Reuben scoffed. ‘I wouldn’t be here if it was good.’
Hugh clicked his tongue. ‘Suppose not.’ His face darkened. ‘What is it? What are the Ynaev doing?’
‘We don’t know,’ Reuben answered. ‘But it can’t be anything good. The situation has got a bit worse, since. The recent meteorite that crashed – a second oulius pattern has been detected. That means there were two unauthorised Ynaev artefacts in that meteorite.’ He half-chuckled. ‘Whichever dumb Ynaev sent that meteorite is going to be in a whole lot of trouble…’
‘Have they been able to decode the oulius patterns? Do they know which artefacts have been sent down?’
Reuben nodded, face grim. ‘One of the patterns is untraceable, an unknown artefact, but the other they worked out. It’s the Eye of Orthos.’
Hugh’s eyes widened. He was familiar enough with the legend of the Abandonment of Tissain – the monumental event which had meant no Dream Realm could ever be destroyed – to know the significance of the Eye of Orthos. And he knew Reuben was well aware of this significance as well. ‘The Ynaev fear the Dream King Tissain. That Eye is the only way to access Tissain’s Dream Realm. No way would the Ynaev give the Eye of Orthos to anyone – it would be too dangerous. There must be something else – or someone else – involved.’ The potential of a schemer worried Hugh, but there was something else, which he kept to himself. What if he’s escaped…
Reuben shrugged. ‘Tell that to the Council – they’re in uproar at the Ynaev. Sent emissaries through the Lunar Portal to each of the clan convocations – even the minor clans not present on the Ume’ere Conference. They just want answers.’
Hugh bristled. ‘The Ynaev really won’t like that – and the Ume’ere will really hate the Council contacting any Ynaev outside the Board. This is going to become a major diplomatic situation if Battlemaster Val doesn’t get control – and quick.’
‘You’re telling me.’ Reuben shook his head and sighed. He nodded at the doorway of the prison block. ‘I assume you’re here to talk to Valiant?’
Hugh nodded. ‘Want to see if I can find out more about these Red Dragon Warriors. I’m especially interested in where they got hold of Draconic Weaving. I know pieces – just rumours, really – but I want the truth.’
‘You think he’ll talk?’ There was a look in Reuben’s eyes, almost as if he knew more than he was letting on. Hugh dismissed it; Reuben often looked that way.
Hugh paused. ‘I hope so. For old times’ sake, I don’t want our talk to turn into an interrogation.’
After a few more minutes of idle talk, the conversation moved to George. Before conflict could arise, though, Reuben murmured a farewell and left, eager for peace. As the blue-eyed man left, Hugh got to his feet and sighed. His thoughts lay with the Reaver Trials, George, and Fi. Fi was training George, that he knew, and Hugh would be joining them later to help – if he could. His grasp of Psychic Weaving was rather rudimentary, and he knew Fi would be better placed as George’s mentor. She knew how to handle the Three Pillars of the Mind – Fear, Doubt, and Ego – while Hugh was still barely learning the techniques.
Turning away, he headed up the steps and into the prison block. Navigating his way through dull, grey corridors, he eventually emerged into the room that was Grimoire Valiant’s cell. Valiant sat on the bare, metal bed; his brows furrowed at the sight of Hugh.
‘What do you want?’ The tanned-skin man’s tone was sharp. ‘Your old missus – Annabelle – she came in already. I’ll tell you now what I told her then: I won’t tell you anything.’ His eyes flashed. ‘Where’s my old cell-mate, that Ov’l you caught?’
Hugh frowned. ‘Didn’t expect you’d be so torn up about him. I thought it was only money you cared about.’
Valiant gritted his teeth. ‘I do only care about money – that little runt is worth a fortune to me. Now, is he in good condition?’
‘He’s alive,’ Hugh replied simply. ‘That’s about all you’re getting from me.’
Valiant huffed. ‘You bloody reavers…if that kid dies…’
‘Like I said,’ Hugh said sharply, ‘George is alive, and I intend for that to continue. I’m not here to answer your questions though, Grimoire. I’m here for answers – from you. Who are the Red Dragon Warriors and what do you want?’
Valiant’s eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ he sneered. ‘If I say I’m not going to talk, then it means I’m not going to bloody talk.’
Hugh glared at him. ‘Talk, or I’m going to get Fi in, get her to use some Psychic Weaving on you. Would you like me to do that?’
Valiant’s face paled, and he let out a shuddering breath, slowly shaking his head. As the colour returned to his face, he growled, ‘Is Fi the new piece then? Doubt Annabelle would be too pleased with that–’
‘That’s none of her business. Besides, the relationship between Fi and I is purely platonic.’
Valiant winked, grinning. ‘I’m sure it is. I remember you saying the very same things when you and Annabelle first got together.’
Hugh rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t have time for this. Just talk, Valiant. You and I go a ways back – I remember training you with Sinchara. I don’t want to have to…do…anything…’
Valiant sighed and shook his head. He paused, thinking hard. ‘We’re just mercs,’ he said at last. ‘Nothing more. Just mercs.’
‘Mercs with Draconic Weaving. No one’s supposed to have that, not since the Last Siege of the Seven. The Ynaev Artefact-Masters destroyed the Dragonborn Scimitar – and Draconic Weaving along with it. Your ancestor – Battlemaster Gorgo Valiant – fought hard to eliminate the Seven and all their terrible powers, including Draconic Weaving. He understood firsthand what happened when those powers fell into the wrong hands.’
Valiant hesitated. ‘We’re mercs, led by the Red Dragon. Don’t know his real name, just know he’s a very powerful guy. Saw him fight firsthand, slaughtered three of my best men. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying in equal measure.’
‘Does the Red Dragon have Draconic Weaving?’
Valiant paused, then nodded. ‘He does. Don’t know how he does and don’t know where he got it. All I know is he can transfer his power. If someone impresses him enough, he gives them Draconic Weaving. I never got it, so I don’t know how it’s done. I’ve only seen them when they come out – and they are a force to be reckoned with.’
‘I know,’ Hugh said. ‘I fought one of your Draconic Weavers.’
Valiant nodded. ‘I still don’t understand how you survived.’
‘I didn’t just survive – I beat them.’ Hugh inhaled sharply. ‘It took two of us, though, to take them down. Me and Fi.’ He paused. ‘I’ve heard rumours, Valiant, about you Red Dragon Warriors.’ At the tensing of Valiant’s face, he guessed the merc knew which rumours he was referring to.
‘I don’t do any of that,’ Valiant snapped. ‘Only the Red Dragon and his Cultist loonies. Eating people…I could never…’
Hugh nodded. That confirmed the rumours were true. He’d suspected as such. ‘Why does he eat them, Valiant?’ Hugh’s voice was sharp.
Valiant gulped. ‘I don’t know for sure. Some of them – the Cultists, I mean – say he gets his strength from the corpses of his foes. He will eat anyone we give him – even his own men. If they’re injured or beaten, to him, they have no worth; they’re only food, after that.’ The burly man shuddered.
‘Why do you still work with him, then?’
Valiant paused and shrugged. ‘Pays well, I guess. As long as he keeps paying well, old Red Dragon can do what he wants.’
Hugh sighed. ‘You really have no morals do you?’ He shook his head. ‘Is there anything else, Valiant?’ Anything else you can tell us?’
Valiant shook his burly head. ‘Nothing. That’s all I know. I swear.’
The look in the man’s eyes seemed genuine enough, but Hugh couldn’t be sure. ‘I’ll take your word of it – for now,’ he warned.
With that, he left.
Returning outside, to the glum insides of the sewer base Taskforce Delta called home, Hugh followed the path through the compound blocks that made up the headquarters of Taskforce Delta. Overhead, the protective defence sphere, which encapsulated the headquarters, gleamed translucent-white. Some other reavers bustled past Hugh, on errands and the like, but most ignored him. As he arrived at the huge, central compound which was the training centre, Hugh noticed – to his alarm – Fi emerging through the double glass doors, helped by one of the training staff. Slung over her shoulder was George, who seemed barely able to stand straight.
‘What happened?’ Hugh asked as he approached the pair of them. He glanced at George, then at Fi. ‘Is he alright?’
Fi nodded. ‘Just tired. Come, take his other shoulder. I want to get him to medbay. He may only be tired, but I’m worried this level of tiredness could be dangerous.’
As Hugh slung George’s other arm over his neck, he nodded at the training staff member and murmured his thanks. The staff member bowed his bald head and shuffled away, back into the training centre.
Hugh turned sharply to Fi. ‘What happened? What did you guys do?’
‘I took him to see his consciousness.’
Hugh’s eyes widened. ‘Why on earth would you do that? You remember what happened when we led the patrol into Sinchara’s mind – only me, you, and Valiant made it out alive, and all three of us were in a state.’ He sighed and shook his head. Finally, he asked, with a nod at George, ‘How did he do?’
Fi winced – and it wasn’t from the exertion of carrying George. ‘Pretty bad. He can’t control his Powers, Hugh. We both made it out unscathed – thank God – but we were incredibly lucky.’
‘I’ll talk to him when we get to the medbay,’ said Hugh as they followed the path. ‘He has to control his powers – his life depends on it. We have to get him through those Reaver Trials.’ He shook his head. ‘I won’t…I won’t have another Sinchara Khan…’
He glanced back at Fi. A pained look crossing her face. There seemed to be something else, something she wasn’t telling him. Against his better judgement, he kept his mouth shut. There would be time later, for further questions. For now, they just needed to get George to the medbay.
—
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