The concourses were packed with bodies, at least several hundred deep, filling the whole area and beyond.
Along every roadway, sidewalk, and alley, the Blanched Knights stood at attention, waiting, for something.
There were of course sycophants everywhere among them, other personal retainers, slaves, and residents alike, the demented and the damned.
Their mewling and hysterical wails echoed between the buildings and across rooftops, in a symphony of sorrows, an ode to a tainted god.
When daylight hit the unusual contours and myopic spires of the Shimmering City, it made the whole settlement radiate and sparkle like a star come to ground, a result of the peculiar properties this place possessed.
All attention was firmly focused on the First Temple of the Weeping Wyrm, it was the holiest building in their city and the center from which all activity here sprung from, be it the priests’ quarters, the cathedrals for baptismal worship, sleeping spaces (more often squalid flop houses), or the conversion pagodas where people were brought to prepare them before they were introduced to their God’s tainted tears.
When the Priests emerged a hush came over the throngs, as if the breath had been stolen from them, what had been a cacophony of misery became a solemn moment of historical importance.
Those sycophants who could not silence themselves were silenced by the Knights in attendance most permanently, a lesson which cascaded outwards among the others, who sensing the possibility of potential death, bit their tongues if necessary to keep from making any further sounds.
For all their unusual characteristics, the Blanched shared their roots among humanity, as mankind seemed to be the ones most drawn into the miasmic web of the Weeper’s tears.
There were few if any fay amongst them, nor any other creature that could be identified, for once transformed they were twisted to a point that whomever they may have been in the past was no longer recognizable.
As far as any knew, they were exclusively derived from hom*o-sapiens, or so it had become presumed over the centuries.
No one knew the reasons for this or if it was true, but some speculated that there was a particular quality to the depth men could sink to, that resonated with the Wyrm resulting in a set of conditions that expedited the genesis of the Blanched.
All heads turned to the entrance of the First Temple as Brother Keigael, the Arch Minister of Sufferance appeared, flanked on either side by Brother Dynoinstein, the Chief Astronomagus of the Twelve Empyrean Observatories, and Brother Balcarmos, the High Adjudicator of Excruciations respectively, shuffling forth blindly without their sycophantic attendants present to guide them.
It was an unprecedented sight among the pious, there was a murmur that rippled throughout the throngs of onlookers, their surprise was palpable.
That outpouring of unnerving consternation came not from the trio presented, nor from the absence of their usual servants, it arose instead from the resplendent figure walking behind them.
Near angelic in his countenance, Athur Tarmour projected a singularly remarkable aura, his presence was as mysteriously terrifying in equal measure to the beauty possessed within the inexplicable perfection of his facial structure.
He could barely understand the transformation he had endured as he floated across the smooth stone slab floor to hover stationary between the three, all of whom now dropping to their knees prostrated themselves in his presence, tear stains soaking their hoods behind where their eyeless eyes would be, the ducts still functional despite the ocular organs’ removal.
Keigael, Dynoinstein, and Balcarmos had all been properly inculcated with the new paradigm the hierarchy of the Blanched was going to take, delivered to them no less than by the Weeping Wyrm itself, who through their dreaming minds shared its vision of this world’s pitiful future and their place within that tapestry.
Theirs was a dismal existence, as their chosen deity viewed all things as wretched, most being unworthy of existence in the outlook of the depthless madness that was driving it, and so too did those who serve it share in its beliefs.
The Wyrm loathed all things, including and especially itself, but it was timeless and unassailable, and none had been able to put it out of its sad misery.
It had existed here for millennia, wallowing in its own self-pity, having become bereft of all hope and that was how it came to see the world around it, hopeless.
From the hole it had dug itself into, where it lay awaiting a final ending that never came, it projected its own despair outwards.
When it was discovered by the first men who came to explore the island it rested on, they were corrupted and transformed by the unnatural influence of the foul creature within hours, its sorrowful aura had a metaphysical effect upon their minds, and they threw themselves into its tears after madness had gripped them.
As shared in the recital of their unholy psalms, that was the first baptism of the Blanched, they became the precursors to the pitiful beings of the present, mirrors of their abhorrent master.
They laid the foundations for the First Temple and recruited other converts into their cause, those who didn’t qualify became food for their God, who would consume the unfortunates while it slept, as they were shoveled into its maw by these devout sycophants it found itself inexplicably surrounded with.
Those events unfolded long before the man who would become Sir Tarmour had found the Shimmering City, or rather was dragged into it against his will by a group of Knights that had been scavenging the countryside, collecting their levy for the awful being they worshipped.
That happened to him five hundred years past, though the mind of the Blanched (once transformed by the tears of the Wyrm) did not work as they once did and their sense of time became lost, along with so much of the other things that made them human in the first place.
He had been, and a part of him still was, Athur Tarmour, a pitiful fool who had suffered excruciatingly when he had been mortal, because of his own craven heart.
Now he had become the Anointed One of the Weeping Wyrm, whose cries thundered out of the First Temple heralding his ascension to the devout masses assembled, bringing them to their knees, as they prostrated before their King to be.
Tied to their God through its tears and their supernatural conversion, there was only uniform subordination for them, while they did have thoughts of their own, they were in the end mere reflections of that malignant being’s desires.
They knew without speaking what their beloved Wyrm wanted and so now looked upon the Anointed One, with fealty nearly equal in measure to the divine power itself, for he was now to become its avatar on Earth who was tasked with spreading its lamentations across the globe.
All would face the Baptism and become newly devoted, or feed for the Weeper, failing that.
Tarmour’s mind reached forth across those gathered, delivering divine directives from the Wyrm itself, shaping the order for the Crusade that was about to be unleashed.
A first envoy would be sent south beyond the Valence, led by the Chief Astronomagus, to make a treaty with the Children of the Moon on distant Thuodrime.
While a second envoy would be sent east to the remote Pearl islands, where the High Adjudicator and a delegation were to make an alliance with the Sunken Marms, by petitioning the malevolent Queen of Thorns.
But the greatest duty went to the Arch Minister of Sufferance, who would bring forth the Umbral Glooms, using arcane rituals only one who had been instructed by the Father of Night could perform.
The Weeper had bestowed this knowledge upon him once his ambitions had crumbled, in that moment he had become the first to acknowledge the Anointed One’s true station in the hierarchy, placing him above even the holy men and making Keigael his right hand, for he knew then his own place in the scheme of things.
Sacrifices would be required to bring forth the great harbingers, many sycophants offered themselves willingly for this deed and where there was not enough, the Knights ruthlessly dragged forth the others that were needed, many kicking and screaming, before their doom.
Arising above the Shimmering City, coming from out of the glittering mirage of its radiance, great winged things appeared, circling overhead.
Massive creatures that soared to the clouds and back down again, fading from sight at times as they became blacker than night and then transitioning back, as they became things of the brightest light and as blinding as a star coming down from the heavens.
The cries of the Umbral Glooms echoed far, nearly reaching the closest of the shorelines, more than a hundred kilometers away.
Their monstrous demonic silhouettes raced across the cityscape below them, before they came to the ground and landed, ready to ferry the Weeping Wyrm’s terrible Crusade out into the rest of the world at long last.
Despite its despicable nature, the Wyrm had made its own alliances, dark forces across the globe would soon be on the move.
⸎ ⸎ ⸎
“The Admiralship will have questions once we arrive. You’re a very unusual human and they will want to verify the authenticity of your claims, if they can.”, Captain Jenker was saying as he took a seat at his writing desk and opened a new bottle of spirits for them, filling two clean cups he’d retrieved from a drawer.
“That I’m human?”, Mereque wondered, while taking the cup offered and finding a place for himself on the large couch he had used before.
“That’s right. My people are particular about the subject. Too many creatures in this world can nearly pass as us, we have suffered on occasion because of that, lost friends, loved ones. They often have unnatural abilities we don’t have and can beguile the unwary, lead us astray, or worse, lure us to our deaths.”, Dammad continued, taking a long drink after finishing.
“Well, I met one that was genuinely helpful, a Fay girl named Grace, but I have no doubt some could be dangerous when I think about it. Genetically, I promise you I am human. Can you sequence DNA?”, Ventrullis remarked thoughtfully before an idea suddenly came to him then.
“We can.”, the Havenite answered, curious where his guest was heading with this.
“Good, we can be proactive. Here, take a sample. Deliver it ahead of introductions.”, the spaceman exclaimed, as he rummaged through his pack and finding a syringe, drew a vile of his own blood on the spot, placing a stopper in the tube once he was done and handing it over to his host.
He was excited to learn that they had science and technology parallel with that of his own people, though as he would later learn, it was rudimentary and could barely scratch their most basic education levels.
“Smart, like I should expect any less of you, Mister Renaissance Giant! But you’re placing a lot of trust in this sea dog, handing something over like that so easily.”, the captain remarked, taking another drink, and savoring the taste as he did.
“I think trust has been earned both ways, no? I’m no giant, just modified with a kind of steel, built much like your own ships in a sense.”, the Zaxvoyan replied, emptying his own cup, and holding it out to be refilled in one fluid motion.
“Hah! It has at that, my big friend! Let’s not talk about that other stuff right now. Once we verify you are human without question, we can take it from there.”, Jenker responded, after emptying the bottle and getting up to take off his coat, draping it over the back of his chair and stepping ahead to look down at the large map covering the table in the center of the room.
The Urchin Gull was traveling due northwest of their last position, its long sleek body smoothly cruising just beneath the waves, the world-spanning tentacle of the Old Father was behind them, to the east.
It had not moved back in their direction since they had broken the surface to clean out the Sheddings, instead coming to rest about where it was, with no further activity on its part they were able to gain a great deal of distance moving at a nominal speed.
This was a fast water-based vessel, Mereque couldn’t help but appreciate the engineering required to accomplish both design and function and while not as advanced as anything like where he came from, they were not so far behind, in a fashion.
Dammad had left Commander Esark in charge of the bridge after a lengthy debrief he held with the crew, explaining his harrowing imprisonment and fortuitous escape, thanks to the timely arrival of the large man who had facilitated his rescue.
They were all grateful for the captain’s safe return and though they had questions about the stranger who had brought him back, they tempered their curiosity for the time because of that gratitude and their deference to their superior, but it would not last and when they reached the Harbour it would all but be gone.
Most of the crew seemed to accept Ventrullis for what he claimed he was, an oversized man from a far-off land, whose people used medical science to make themselves stronger.
As the Captain, there were responsibilities one had to their crew, but as someone who had been a prisoner set free, there was a newfound loyalty to the benefactor that could not go unheeded and so with some discomfort, Jenker looked somberly over the maps on his table as he explained, “I don’t want you to worry, but my people, we Havenites, there was a period when we had a very hard time finding our place in the world. Our records support some of your claims, the earth was once exclusively man’s domain, but something happened so long ago that we have all but forgotten that. Surrounded by creatures we didn’t and still don’t understand, we were beset wherever we ventured, and many hands were lost from our decks during this bleak time. From our earliest memories, we have always been seagoing people. Our figurehead, the one we named ourselves after, led us through that far-off tumultuous period, until his death. He was our shepherd and spiritual leader, Fleet Admiral Havenlocke.”
Gesturing with a nod to the wall near the cabin’s entrance, the spaceman spotted a rectangular framed photo portrait hanging there, within it the image of an aged-looking naval officer of high rank.
This was obviously the historical person in question, he was clean-shaven without hair on his face or head, with robust and broad features despite his advancing years.
Sagging wrinkled skin and a swollen bulbous nose did nothing to hide or detract from his most remarkable feature, eyes like tempered steel that seemed to stare through the photo itself and into one’s very soul.
It was as if the man was confronting the Zaxvoyan directly, such was the intensity behind this person’s unspoken character, that it broke through the veil of the living and the dead by way of a canvas.
Forcing his way across time and space, to stare in judgment from a static facsimile of the original, upon the Havenite’s foreign guest.
Mereque had to stifle a chuckle at being made to feel like he had become part of some fanciful work of fiction, he could not fathom that such a personage like this truly existed and had to credit his imagination with running away on him.
An image began to form in his mind then, one that hinted towards who these Havenites might be and why he was drawn to them, but first he wanted to hear what else his friend had to say and so he offered an appropriately approving expression at the portrait before turning back to listen.
Jenker gave him an unusual look, then let out a sigh and emptied the cup in his hand, finishing it with one giant gulp as he seemed to wrestle with something internally.
All that Ventrullis could do was give him time to speak, so he waited patiently until the captain had collected his thoughts enough to go on, clearing his throat his voice was full of regrets, “Slop cups. I’m not proud to say it, but because of our need to survive my people have a history of doing many… unkind things, to the other living things in this world of ours. Not without reason or provocation mind you, but still, we can be a ruthless bunch and have a reputation fitting that. We’re not the same cutthroats we once were in the past, I promise you that, but it’s been barely two generations since we changed our ways and while we have no love for the other creatures out there, we keep to ourselves for the most.”
“I think it’s understandable, Jenk. You live in a world where the land itself can be your enemy, never knowing what kind of dangers lurks around which corners, it must have put your people in a perpetual state of heightened anxiety facing constant potential conflict.”, the spaceman offered with more than a touch of empathy.
He had barely been on this world for any time at all and had endured one harrowing situation after another, he could only imagine what an entire lifetime, or even several generations might have experienced in comparison.
“During my grandfather’s time we began to change our ways, change our approach to this world we live in. We realized that after so much time, we had accomplished very little outside of basic survival. Sure, the borders of our territory were secure, but we are an ocean-going people and since those are always in motion and fluid, it was an easy task considering the equipment we can field. We may have killed countless demons from the Fury Islands, but we also ended the lives of uncounted fairy folk, and a litany of other creatures that inhabit the islands. We even warred with the men of Aught-Naught-Aught, who we distrust for allowing fay, mythids and other things to live amongst them. We raided the coastal settlements of others to refill our holds, with whatever we could get our hands on. Some say we caused the genocide of the mer types, those fairies who lived in the waters of the sea, though truth be told we may have been happy to see them disappear, that wasn’t our doing.”, the Havenite spoke as if admitting his own sins, depthless remorse possessing him.
“We come from different times, but we are from the same world. The Earth my people left, this is the same Earth your people had to survive in, and just like you, our sea was up there, in the empty spaces between the stars. This Havenlocke of yours, he led your people from your ancestral past successfully, so that your generation could be here in the present, regardless of what you had to do, you all made sure that your piece of humanity made it. Those are the deeds of heroes. We had ours, and you have yours. Whatever happened here since the colony expeditions were sent out must have been catastrophic, your maps of the world are nothing like what we had in our archives, give me some paper and something to draw with and I’ll show you.”, the Zaxvoyan replied, moving over to the large table and leaning over, while his host retrieved a long roll of parchment and placed it down before him.
Handing him a thin grey-tipped tool and a small pot of ink to draft with, the captain said with some relief as he passed over the objects, “Here, if you can draw, I have some old maps we can compare that with. Thank you, my friend, I wanted you to understand what you may face when we reach the Harbour. There are still many of us who have little tolerance for things that are not human, even though we have changed, bringing that subject to our front door may cause some controversy.”
Nodding his head in understanding, Mereque got to work.
Inside his mind he accessed artificially embedded processors with a series of thoughts, bringing up a mental display for himself of the map of the Earth to reference, as he put pencil to paper and began recreating that image.
Within minutes he had a complete outline and was adding more and more complex details as he went, all while his host looked on with interest as he produced a piece of work that may have taken weeks, if not longer, for any normal man to accomplish.
On the left side, a pair of large continents stretched from north to south, running vertically, nearly touching the polar regions, the two connected by a tapering land bridge between them.
They were massive compared to anything on Jenker’s maps and dwarfed the largest of the contemporary landmasses he could compare them with, but they were nothing next to the continental colossal to the right side, which dwarfed the first half, covering a much larger portion of the illustration he was producing.
The Havenite started rummaging through shelves and cupboards, pulling out various old tombs and ancient atlases, some of which had seen better days, likely passing through the hands of countless mariners over centuries.
Every comparison he produced didn’t match any of the land formations Ventrullis was sketching out, it was like two different worlds, one with full and robust surfaces across the globe and the other, only sprinkles of terrain where one could step foot on land.
When he finished Dammad didn’t recognize what he was seeing, huge continents on both the Eastern and Western hemispheres of the world were foreign to him, he had never seen the like and their size was unbelievable. There was so much land!
Though to the captain’s credit, he took it as no more unbelievable than the large visitor himself, whom he was presently hosting.
He was a man by all accounts, who should not exist and yet here he stood in front of him, in this very private space, after rescuing him from what would have been a less than savory fate.
The Zaxvoyan explorer from Leopold Seven, Mereque Ventrullis, represented a potential the Havenites did not know was possible for mankind.
He was living proof of a technological sophisticated their people once may have had in their hands and now, perhaps if they were fortunate, they could have once again.
“This is the Earth as it was kept in our records, as you can see between the two hemispheres it had two distinct continental formations.”, the spaceman stated as he began to draw a series of horizontal and vertical lines across his work, easily recognized by the naval officer as latitude and longitude indicators.
“Unbelievable, I’d say you were a master map maker if I didn’t know better, how have you managed to do this from memory?”, Jenker asked, marveling at the level of details included by his guest.
“Another benefit of our medical science is there is a microchip interfacing with my cerebral cortex, I can pull up information I have stored in a supplementary memory bank attached to it. To be fair, without it, I wouldn’t be drawing us any maps.”, Mereque explained, tapping a finger to his temple to illustrate the point, causing his host to spill his drink as he laughed.
They spoke for many hours then, pouring over the various maps the Havenite retrieved, comparing them carefully against his own, discussing any possible similarities at length as they tried to piece together anything that could link the past to the present.
Ventrullis thought he spied something of note on an older map, one that looked like the tri-lake formation within an island he had spotted as he dropped through the atmosphere, during the emergency evacuation of the Cazeus.
The captain remarked that it also bore a striking similarity to the large lake formations on a section of his guest’s map, which was within one of the two continents he had drawn out initially on the left side of the paper, that being in the north of the Western Hemisphere, an area once known as the Great Lakes.
Locating the island of interest proved an impossible challenge for them on Jenker’s contemporary maps, where no trace of it could be found, despite it being well within the sphere of regular Havenite activity.
Holding the older parchment down with one hand, Mereque felt dull frustration scratching at his mind, he could run comparisons in microseconds, but according to these present-day maps it was no longer there.
Seeming to sense the spaceman’s discontent, the captain rummaged through another cabinet off to the side and in a few moments, he produced another scroll of paper, which he began to roll out with excited haste.
“Is this what you’re looking for?”, Jenker asked, pointing to a star drawn over a remote island, which clearly had the three-lake formation he had been searching for.
“That’s it!”, he replied.
“Bilge-sacks. That’s Aught Naur Aught. The city of wizards. Home to an assortment of unnatural things, if the legends are true.”, the captain stated.
Aught Naur Aught, a city of wizards, his head was spinning.
“Sorry, it must be a lot for you. I haven’t ever seen the island myself, but it’s real. We have records of our encounters with the people, and things from there, dating all the way back to the time of the notorious Black Admiral, Yarl Narford, the great-great-great-grandson of our founder, who lived in the third century of our calendar, around three hundred fifty P.D.”, Dammad related to him.
This was a reference to the Post Deluge age and was specific to the Havenites, whose records he learned were now in the eighty-ninth century of this current era and stretched back in history nearly nine thousand years.
To have access to such an archive would be monumental, perhaps he would even be able to unravel the mystery of what happened to this world, if he could see it for himself.
He looked back at where the star had been drawn over the island on the captains’ map, it was of a lower quality with fewer details around any of the lands that had been outlined, but the position and profile of this one matched what he had observed before.
“That’s the one I saw. You say it’s a city of magical wizards? As in those who perform trickery as a performance art?”, a bemused Mereque asked.
“Performance? Ha! I only wish. These are no illusionists, my friend. They are true wielders of mystical forces that can bend the laws of nature. I can tell you don’t believe me.”, Jenker said to him.
“I’m skeptical.”, he answered plainly.
“Look closely. I can prove it to you.”, the seaman motioned for him to watch, as he took out a writing tool, dipped it in ink and began to draw an outline of the missing island on the larger original map pinned to his table.
To his astonishment, as soon as the outline of the little island was completed, it simply vanished from sight.
“It must be a trick.”, he stated.
Dammad shook his head, then repeated the process, and again his markings of the island disappeared before their eyes.
Then he made another marking in a different corner, this one was of a small fish.
Ventrullis wondered if he was witnessing a type of vanishing ink at work, but as if to disabuse him of the notion, the captain handed him the instrument to test it for himself.
To his continuing surprise when he attempted the same thing, his ink markings also vanished before he could blink, whenever he attempted to create the same representation of the island on paper.
As Jenker explained, that area was a place their navy circumvented because of past conflicts that had been mostly unfavorable for them, so much so that a treaty had to be made between Aught Naur Aught and the Havenite Nation, and within that agreement a curse had been cast which obscured the island forever after on any map.
Of course there was an exception, that was upon any map that had existed before the accord came about, or so the captain insisted pointing to his evidence.
Mereque couldn’t deny there was something unusual happening here, if he believed this explanation, it would mean there was far more strangeness to this world than he thought, which was saying a lot.
According to Dammad, from what he knew, the people there were mostly sorcerers who possessed unnatural talents, such as being able to conjure things seemingly from thin air.
But they were not alone and there were other creatures who lived alongside them, a myriad of types from far and wide, a claim the Zaxvoyan would have found unbelievable only a few days earlier.
If the ancient mariners’ logs were true, there were things they called Mythids, who were said to be strange men with animal heads.
There were also accounts of frightful apparitions, ghostly forms of those who had died, but for whatever reason their spirits (that undefinable thing some humans claimed was what animated the flesh) refused to leave this world behind.
Other strangeness included trees that would sing, birds that could weave their own cloth from spider silk, and it was even whispered that the Great Dragons of Sky and Storms themselves made their dens in this place.
How much any of that was true he could not say, but of one thing the seaman was certain, Aught Naur Aught was protected by horrible monsters who lurked in the waters surrounding the island, these creatures had cost the Havenites scores of some of their best and most famous ships.
“Captain, we’ve arrived.”, Commander Esark’s voice chimed in from an overhead speaker, interrupting their conversation.
“All right, thanks Thom.”, Dammad responded, then turning to his guest he said, “Well, let’s go topside. I think you’ll enjoy the view. The Harbour is something else if you’ve never seen it before, or so I’ve been told.”
The Urchin Gull had surfaced some half hour earlier after maintaining a cruising position that kept it just below the waves, its upper hull and tower being the only parts visible, while the remaining bulk stayed submerged.
It was a well-armed ship with a dozen torpedo tubes for direct nautical engagements, four missile launchers for sea-to-air and sea-to-land operations, along with fore and aft gun batteries for defense during surface maneuvers and a chaff dispenser designed to counter incoming ordinance by disrupting electronic guidance.
Not that these impressive armaments mattered one iota to Old Father Kraken, whose impossibly enormous dimensions made even the Gull seem like an ant when measured against it, leaving Mereque to wonder if such a creature was even aware of their existence.
The ship’s most important feature in dealing with that humongous monster was the specialized hull, which diffused aquatic vibrations and friction drag, making it a smooth ride for those who crewed it and quiet enough to travel unmolested most of the time.
There were exceptions of course, this last incident being a clear example of one, but in general incidents between their submersibles and this being were far and few between.
How they developed such a camouflage was another mystery to the spaceman, for that level of sophistication did not seem congruent with the technology he had observed so far.
Pulling his coat on, the captain led them out of his cabin and back to the upper exit hatch they had used when they had originally boarded, making their way above into the fresh air and the warm midday sun.
There was a team of crewmen already outside when they emerged, busily running about, and performing their various duties, getting ready as they prepared to dock into Havenlocke Harbour.
Mereque enjoyed getting out, the ocean wasn’t his favorite place to be he had decided since arriving here, but he had little say in the matter since the world had become even more dominated by water than land, at least since his people had left the planet all of those many millennia ago.
Even then, the surface of the Earth was covered by approximately seventy percent water, but now he estimated that was closer to ninety-eight, or ninety nine percent.
Despite all the dangers of this Earth, Ventrullis was truly struck by the beauty of the place, while the light blue skies shone with the burning sun above, the endless expanse of the sea and its cresting waves twinkled in a rhythmic dance before his eyes.
Then it dawned on him while he scanned the horizon, his mind distracted by the sights, there was nothing around them and when he looked to his host questioningly, he was simply offered a playful chuckle as the captain barked out orders to the men nearby.
The spaceman was about to say something when a roar drowned him out, while his headgear protected his own hearing it didn’t protect anyone else, but looking around he noted that the others were stuffing small plugs into their ears and seemed unperturbed by the unexpected commotion.
All around the ocean lifted in huge swells that stretched out for kilometers in length, as if some force had caused a tsunami to gestate spontaneously, invisibly pushing the sea waters as they were displaced by something with an extraordinary mass.
The Zaxvoyan scanned the swells and determined they were occurring at approximately a ten-kilometer distance and there weren’t several, he had been wrong, there was only one, and it surrounded them in a complete ring.
That ocean wall lifted skywards, continuing its dramatic climb, until reaching a height of at least a hundred meters.
The Gull shook violently, and he had to squat down to prevent being toppled from his feet, as the ship was stopped abruptly when docking clamps locked on to hold it fast in place.
Havenlocke Harbour was rising out of the ocean all around him, they were within the confines of a massive submersible structure, it was the size of a moderate city really and Mereque smiled upon seeing this feat of exceptional engineering revealing itself.
It was proof of civilization, Earth was inhabited by men who were still striving to advance, to master their planet, to understand their place in the universe.
All had not been lost, as he had feared, to whatever catastrophe had befallen the world, the evidence was sprawled out before him.
He suppressed the strong emotions boiling inside him when he felt a dampness creeping its way into one corner of an eye, the feelings of relief and joy would have been overwhelming, he imagined he would be bawling like a newborn babe at the sight had he not the ability to precisely regulate his own physiology, thanks to certain enhancements he had been surgically gifted with.
As the water sloughed away from the buildings beneath, they were slowly revealed, pillars that pointed towards the heavens, connecting between them smaller modular rectangular pieces forming what one might consider the walls of the Harbour.
While the towers bobbed some fifty meters in height, once revealed, the surrounding barrier was maybe half of that.
Later when he had more time to assess, Ventrullis would determine there were a total of thirty-two of them between two concentric rings, the rings made of eight segments each, with two towers between them, that was sixteen per circle.
The spaceman soon spotted other ships anchored within the Harbour, many of these were smaller, but there were a few larger than Captain Jenker’s vessel.
As the waters rushed further outwards from the city the noise began to subside, surprisingly none of which came crashing in on them as he was half expecting, instead the energy of it was used in part in the lifting of the whole thing.
It was a simple but practical wonder of engineering, implemented on a gigantic scale.
Visible across the structure was the eight-armed sigil of the Havenites, which stood prominently on the tallest of the watch towers but could also be seen on every outbuilding and ship docked inside.
There were large double and quadruple-barreled cannons prominently pointed upwards atop the two concentric rings, while the outward face of the walls bristled with a variety of weapon turrets, the inner face had guard stations and smaller gun embankments.
The structures making up the harbour city had an exterior finish similar to the Gull’s, as did every other ship present, of which there were more than a hundred with room to easily accommodate three to four times as many.
Only the towers were different, gigantic black iron columns of hard-angled, impossibly thick steel, like humongous talons that reached out to touch the distant clouds.
Between the ships here, there was a vast network of interconnecting modular tunnels and free-floating structures, these connected in a shifting complex pattern that provided access between the docked craft, the bridges linking them with various support facilities, and to the outer rings of the harbour.
A propeller-powered airborne vehicle passed over their heads after a few minutes, there were many smaller maintenance vessels moving in the waters between the ships and the buildings, weaving around and under connecting passage tubes.
Soon the whole harbour was bristling with the life of a city, as Havenites emerged from below sealed decks to appear everywhere, some shirtless, others in giant hydraulic powered loaders and Heavy Bell diving suits that worked submerged on the underbelly of the crafts stationed here.
People called to them in recognition, friends, family members, brother-in-arms, and more, their return was no small occasion as the spaces between ships became busier with the emerging members of the local population.
Several house-sized drum shaped structures floated over to them, coming to rest alongside the Gull they produced more official-looking people, these were not the regular workmen but professional veterans and officials of some importance by their dress.
Technicians and maintenance crews were soon descending upon them, a maelstrom of activity followed, and hundreds of eyes gazed on in passing wonder at the giant foreigner among them.
As one of the Zaxvoyan he was used to attention, back in his home world he was heralded as a hero, one of the daring souls prepared to voyage to distant and far-off places, where few others were willing to go.
Here however the looks he received were different, for the most part these were cautiously curious, but there were also an uncomfortable number of fearful and suspicious faces turned his way.
Jenker kept close to him, if this was a conscious or unconscious decision didn’t matter, Mereque appreciated the comforting action, as he was truly a stranger in a strange land.
There wasn’t much waiting around, the Havenites were an industrious bunch and did not hesitate in their duties, and not long after their arrival a delegation of much higher-ranking personnel approached them with haste.
They came in a sizeable aerial vehicle powered by four propellers, which was flanked by an escort of a dozen heavily armed single-rotor black helicopters that were surprisingly quiet remained hovering overhead, sporting missile racks, quad mounted chain guns, and what looked like primitive laser weaponry to Ventrullis on the undercarriage.
Three figures stepped out accompanied by a team of masked guardsmen in sealed helmets, elite soldiers by their appearances, wearing plated dark navy-blue body armor and sporting weighty looking fully automatic rifles held two-handed.
All were large men, obviously in prime shape and were no doubt incredibly strong in the spaceman’s opinion, but every one of them stood a meter shorter than himself and whom he could manhandle like newborn babes if he so chose to.
It was by habit that the Zaxvoyan automatically assessed those around him, decades of training and years of experience had programmed that behavior into him, so much so that he did this without thinking, it was systematic.
Of the trio walking towards them, two were men, one of very advanced age and the other in his early elder years with his greys just starting to show, while the third was an older woman yet still younger than them both, who struck Mereque as unusual in that it forced him to realize, this was the first female he had seen among all of the Havenites up to this point.
“Oh, shuck me a slipknot, that’s half the Admiralship right there. Hang onto your caps, here we go.”, the captain muttered under his breath, as he leaned discreetly over to warn Ventrullis of what was heading their way.
“Captain Dammad!”, the younger of the two men approaching said, black-haired with just his temples beginning to change color, he had to shout to be heard above the sounds of the rotors and loud engines coming from behind them.
“Admiral Seclock! Welcome aboard, sir!”, the Havenite saluted sharply in deference to his superior officer and the pair walking alongside him, whom all saluted in turn.
“I take it this is the stranger who saved you.”, it was a statement more than a question, by the same man.
“Yessir!”, Jenker replied.
“Bloody rust boils, he’s even bigger than the reports led me to believe!”, the more senior of the group broke in, voice cracking with an age to match the creases around his green eyes and half-toothed mouth.
“Admiral Lassovo, I assure you, sir, our reporting was accurate!”, the captain said, practically apologizing to the old man, whose bald pate shone in the midday sun.
“Be calm, Captain. Bill here is just easily fussed with his advancing age.”, the woman interrupted almost playfully.
Her garb was quite different from the others, being a mix of navies and whites and having an ankle-length dress instead of trousers, while her hair was a mix of blonde and brown and was kept in a long tight braid that reached down her back.
Lassovo frowned in response, bushy white eyebrows arching downwards expressively, his thin mouth puckering in blatant disapproval, saying tersely to her, “Abbess Rensa, with all due respect, my age has nothing to do with the matter at hand.”
Paying close attention to the exchange, the man from Leopold Seven took note of the religious denomination, this woman held a high position among the leadership of these nautical people, and it would seem, that extended beyond just the military facet of this society.
“Captain, we’re here to confirm this… individual’s identity. Is he really… human?”, the stormy gaze of the man named Admiral Seclock stayed unflinching upon them as he asked, a short cape hung from shoulders to waist, and several medals were prominently on display on both chest and collar.
The Zaxvoyan looked over at his friend as worries he had suppressed began to bubble up in the back of his mind, keeping those firmly in check he waited silently, deciding to place his trust in the man.
“I assure you, Admiral, we are testing his DNA and should have those results any moment.”, the captain answered.
“Jenker, I’m happy to see you back home safe and sound, and we’re certainly grateful for your liberator’s intervention, but bringing him here before he was vetted may have been a mista…”, Seclock said before he was interrupted by another voice shouting out from Dammad’s wrist-mounted communications device.
“Captain! It’s Chef, sir! The sequencing is done! The big guy is one hundred percent human!”, the instant relief upon this announcement was palpable, as all parties seemed to visibly relax somewhat and Mereque could hear the decrease in the surrounding pulse rates that followed.
With a happy nod from Admiral Lassovo, the accompanying guardsmen lowered the barrels of their rifles, as they stood down at his unspoken signal.
“Thank goodness! That’s a weight off all of us now.”, the Abbess said, expressively waving a hand, “You’ll have to forgive Adam, he’s a stickler over these kinds of things. It’s for good reason mind you, wouldn’t want to accidentally walk another Fay or something worse right into our homes, now would we.”
The woman was trying to further diffuse the situation now that they had confirmation Ventrullis was a part of the human species, he appreciated the gesture, but didn’t know her motivations well enough to form an opinion of her one way or another.
“How did you get reeled in by the damned Blanched, Dammad?”, Admiral Lossovo asked.
“We were too close to the island when we surfaced for air replacement, sir. Some floated out on wings as you’d expect, but they had more with them than usual. They were using some other floating contraption we’d never seen before; they must have stayed low enough to the water to avoid getting pinged by the radar.”, the captain answered.
“That’s bold of them, they’re usually not so keen to come out that far over open water. I want a detailed report from you on the entire incident.”, Seclock remarked.
“Yessir.”, Jenker responded, before leaning over to his large guest to offer an explanation, saying under his breath, “It burns them like acid.”
The spaceman had seen the effects that physical presence of the Blanched had on the land they dwelled upon, what their aura did to the environment around them, and how that unnatural phenomenon seemed to stop at the water’s edge.
Thinking on it, during their fight along the beach, neither Tarmour nor any of the Knights that came to his aid stepped one foot into the surf, the recording from his optical microchip confirmed it.
It meant those beings had a weakness and now he knew if he ever encountered them again, the ocean was a great advantage to leverage against them, his gambit to hide under the waves had been a very lucky and correct path to take.
“We’re all safe in Harbour, it’s much too far out for them. Let’s discuss more urgent things now, such as finding our visitor appropriate accommodations, at least before we inflict ourselves on him any further.”, the older of the Admirals suggested.
“Thank you, Admiral, but that’s all right. I’m more than happy to answer any of the questions you have for me, in return I’m hoping you will answer some of mine.”, the Zaxvoyan’s deep voice suddenly broke in, making all heads turn at once towards him.
“Holy Old Father, he speaks our tongue!”, Admiral Lassovo exclaimed with surprise, bushy eyebrows raising expressively.
“Not naturally, sir. I’m using a piece of active software to help me translate and learn your language.”, Mereque explained in brief.
“Bilge sacks, it must be extremely sophisticated.”, the Abbess uttered in astonishment, while the two other men nodded in agreement.
Seclock stared at him pensively, whatever was going on in his head he was keeping to himself, though the stranger had little doubt that the man was making his own assessment of him.
There was a sharpness to this one, Mereque thought to himself, an intellect with an edge to it hid inside that man.
“So, it’s true, you are from a people with a more advanced science!”, the old Admiral remarked, with growing wonder filling his watery eyes.
Before Ventrullis could offer a reply, he was stopped by an unexpected event, within him a signal had been received, though the source and direction it came from was yet unknown, he automatically and silently activated a tracing subroutine in response.
None of the others were aware of what was happening, it was something that only he knew about, for the technology sending this signal was designed by his people and operated inside his head.
For the first time since making landfall, he had just discovered he was not the only Zaxvoyan survivor, he was not alone!
Instinctively he wanted to go, rationally he knew he couldn’t just leave, he wasn’t even sure these people would allow him to, not yet anyway.
Not that they could stop him, but he wasn’t willing to do that to Jenker, he had put his trust in the man, just as the same trust had been given to him, repeatedly.
Outwardly he did nothing to allow his feelings to betray him, he still had a mission here and the Havenites still seemed like the best avenue he had found in order to achieve them.
“Admiral, it was included in my preliminary report!”, the captain said defensively.
“We are aware, Captain. Relax. Reading about it is one thing but seeing it firsthand, that is another thing entirely. Besides, Bill can’t read like he used to.”, Rensa interjected, moving close to have a better look at their foreign guest who towered over them.
“It’s true. Our science is more advanced. We are hoping to establish new diplomatic relations with other people across the planet.”, Mereque said, looking down at her, as he wondered what her titular position meant.
“Oh? You have your eyes on the whole world then. I’m not sure if I should be alarmed or impressed by that.”, the Abbess replied, both wistfully and yet with a subtle sharpness underlying the seriousness of her words.
Ventrullis found it challenging to maintain his focus, the steady ping of the signal he was receiving kept intruding, distracting him from the present with the fact that there was another member of his expedition out there, a member of his community, a teammate, a friend.
He couldn’t be certain of the distance, with the open ocean the way it was it was possible to transmit from afar, there was a great deal of open space between many of the islands, and the strangeness of this world itself had made him come to doubt many things he thought he was sure of.
Bringing himself back to the present, he answered her with his growing distraction kept carefully hidden from those around him, “Not in the way you imply Abbess. I’m hoping to put to rest some of your worries. I’m authorized to extend a gift to your people in the form of some of our more advanced technological knowledge.”
Admiral Seclock gave him a look of disbelief, while Lassovo’s mouth dropped open and Rensa turned her gaze away, becoming pensive as she got lost in her own racing thoughts.
Jenker flashed their large guest a brief but sly smile, as if to say, ‘well played, my friend’.
Seclock eyes went from wide to narrow, as his apparently keen mind working with some speed, processed the declaration quickly, and a thousand questions formed, waiting just on the edge of his lips.
But the older Admiral’s clicking teeth beat him to it, as Lossovo’s mouth snapped closed and he asked aloud, “What! Are you serious?”
“Of course, he’s serious Bill, look at him! Does he strike you as someone who’s not going to deliver on his word?”, exasperated, the Abbess barked at him, evidently having become somewhat taken with their foreign visitor.
“How should I know? All you young people look the same to me!”, a flustered Lassovo said, throwing his arms up in response as he turned away and grumbled to himself.
Sighing in reply, Rensa faced Dammad once again, saying to him, “All right, Captain, send your genetic sequencing results to the Admiralship offices, once we have confirmation from our staff that they are verifiable, we can take things from there. In the meantime, prepare for a proper debrief with the home office in two hours.”
“Nobitar will be joining us.”, Seclock added.
“The Fleet Admiral? Yessir!”, the Captain of the Urchin Gull would have fallen out of his chair, had he been sitting in one, such was his surprise at that pronouncement.
This would have been the equivalent of a state-appointed leader, such as a president, or even emperor or chairperson, personally attending an intelligence briefing with mid-level staff.
Jenker’s ordeal and rescue from the Blanched Lands, along with the arrival of the foreigner who rescued him, was obviously being treated as of the highest national importance.
Havenlocke Harbour was unlike anything the spaceman had ever seen, not because it had more advanced technology than his own world of Leopold Seven, far from it, but because the antiquated and yet functional engineering worked as well as it did.
The harbour was the capital city for these people, and it was assembled through a nomadic collection of modular parts, creating a unique submersible megastructure.
As the Zaxvoyan would later learn, the harbour was normally secured to the ocean floor, the large towers acted as the locks that could anchor and release it from moorings embedded in the surface far below.
A massive rock shelf covered the city down there to protect it from Old Father Kraken, but this could be moved aside by way of a huge track system, then the harbour could either become mobile within the ocean, with limitations, or be brought up to the surface, as was the case now.
The docking area for the city, which was a crater-sized space, was reinforced with countless interlocking columns and enormous steel support beams.
This was the method these people had developed thousands of years ago to survive in this chaotic world, Mereque found it inspiring, the amount of dedicated effort the entirety of this community of nautical people would have had to have committed themselves to was monumental.
Mereque could appreciate the tenacity of such a people, committed to not just living at sea, but furthering a thriving society in an otherwise hostile environment where facing monsters had become a part of life.
They were clearly descended from the same stock of humanity that his own people came from, he was becoming more convinced of this by the moment, from what little history he had been able to piece together at any rate there was a clear correlation.
There was a moment of confusion that came, as the three ranking officers turned to leave them and a series of loud booming sounds shook the ships in the harbour, causing everyone to look around in unsettled bewilderment, while none seemed sure of the cause.
As the explosions continued, smoke began to waft upwards in thick black streamers, billowing out from several of the tall outer wall pillars in the distance.
Everyone stood stunned, unsure of what was happening, until a voice booming through loudspeakers across the harbor offered clarification, “This is Fleet Admiral Nobitar! We are under attack by Blanched forces! Havenlocke has been grounded! This is not a drill! All hands prepare for battle!”
⸎ ⸎ ⸎
The red dragon soared high above the clouds, while the machine and its passenger tailed behind him some distance, they cruised at a relatively low speed and the great beast seemed to be gradually reducing his momentum with every languid beat of his large leathery wings.
They had been searching for Mereque without success for untold hours, but the great sentinels continued their hunt tirelessly, even though Grace had fallen asleep a second time inside the passenger compartment aboard the construct that had been called RX, they did not rest.
Steam wafted from the crimson scales of the monster’s body, the heat produced caused the air to shimmer around him, often making him indistinct to those looking at him from afar.
Something had caught his attention, his metallic companion recognized the signs, the slowing of his flight to a practical standstill was the start, then he began inhaling deeply, testing the air, tasting it carefully.
His gigantic reptilian brain was processing whatever it was that he suddenly found so interesting, eyes narrowing to near slits, Hexabulous let out a rumbling growl.
He had identified a scent carried upon the breeze even high up where they presently were, as a dragon of ancient standing his olfactory receptors were a more finely tuned organ than any other living thing on this planet, be they of the land or the sea, save that of another dragon perhaps, but who could say.
“RX!”, he thundered out suddenly to the construct that followed, never being too far from his side, “I smell a fight! There is conflict! Blood!”
“Bzzz… Understood. I am leaving all active combat systems on standby. Do you know where and who might be involved?”, the voice of the machine asked.
“By the scent, Blanched… and Havenites.”, Hexabulous responded, after taking another long whiff of the passing air currents.
“Bzzz… A lead. That is fortuitous. Perhaps the object of our search is among them. Can you sense him?”, RX inquired.
“No, it’s too far and there are too many. If he is there, his odor is mixed in with them and hidden from me.”, the Red Dragon conceded.
“Bzzz… Curious, the Blanched should not be this far out at sea.”, the disembodied intelligence remarked.
“Are you saying there’s something wrong with my smeller, RX?”, the beast snarled back.
“Bzzz… Of course not. I have absolute faith in your capabilities, my dear Hex. I was simply wondering how it is they managed to come all the way out here.”, the steel sky sentinel explained apologetically.
“Bah! I broke the treaty with that fat cry baby, he was bound to find a way to spread his wings and send his taint farther out.”, Hexabulous stated dismissively.
“Bzzz… Then may I suggest we investigate? Which way shall we proceed?”, RX said.
“This way.”, the fire drake stated, pointing to his right with an outstretched limb.
“Bzzz… Due northwest. That will take us towards Havenlocke Harbour.”, the machine remarked informatively.
“If you say so, I’m just following my nose.”, the Red Dragon replied, somewhat defensively.
Truthfully Hexabulous had no knowledge of any compass-based directions, as a beast of his predatory type, where he went was determined by which way his nose led him.
His brain was wired to process information based on that innate trait, an instinctual drive to follow, to hunt prey.
“Bzzz… Very good. As always, I will defer to you, my friend.”, RX responded diplomatically.
“Hmph. Damn right. Now wake that Fay girl, if the battle is as intense as I sense, we may have need of her soon.”, Hexabulous snorted.
“Bzzz… As you say.”, the disembodied intelligence acquiesced agreeably.
As the machine gently woke its passenger, the pair of titans changed directions and picked up speed, moving even more rapidly across the skies as they headed towards the northwest, where the dragon smelled the ongoing conflict unfolding.
It would not be long before they would soon learn, that Havenlocke Harbour had indeed come under attack from the corrupted denizens of the Blanched Lands, who with the aid of a novel power had managed to move on mass across the ocean, without fear of the waters that normally kept them at bay.
The Weeping Wyrm had been busy, despite the endless sorrowful melancholy that possessed it and its reclusive solitude, it had reached out and secured alliances with other vile things that inhabited this world.
It had seen visions as well, though being twisted by the taint within its soul, it tended to see what it feared most.
Where Hexabulous had spied events that he was determined to prevent, the Wyrm had witnessed salvation he was resolved to avert, and at any cost necessary, for if it failed, it feared its existence would be forfeit.
At the center of all this, stood a stranger from a far and distant land, a human from another world, one who tread across the vastness of the cosmos to land amongst them, and it was he, who was the key to both of their desired outcomes.
They headed towards a crucible of converging events, an immense collision preordained by fate, written into the stars by the unseen hand of a greater destiny.
Hexabulous and RX were sentinels of scale and steel who brought lesser men trembling to their knees, they were both revered, and feared in equal measure.
As self-appointed custodians of this world, they acted out of an unbending sense of obligation and responsibility, duty bound by a past shrouded in unfathomable mysteries.
Their coming was seen by some with eyes of glowing hope, and by others with heart-sinking horror, guardian gods of the heavens who were sometimes prayed to and other times cursed, they were living myth.
This Earth was far from being the one the historic records those from Leopold Seven had preserved, the race of mankind shared the planet with creatures of fantasy and monsters of nightmare, the society of old was long gone.
It became a planet steeped in mystical powers and supernatural phenomena, an aberration of the ancient past, where the advances of old had for the most, fallen into the dustbin of history.
