Chapter 20-11 Blood in the Bright

Chapter 20-11 Blood in the Bright

Every half-strand has an opinion on vengeance.

None of it really matters. Because guess what? Shits complicated. Always. Theres no all-killing munition for this kind of thing.

Also, I'm gonna tell you something now so you don't need to be confused about it in the future: anyone who tries to sell you a platitude about forgiveness or letting things go when youre obviously hurting is a fucking clown. Best case is theyre talking to talk. Worst is that theyre actually stupid as shit.

At the end of the day, revenge isnt really a moral action. Or a just one. No. Its an emotional reaction. A need to protect yourselfto show yourself that you can again. Or to make something right that you couldnt before. Otherwise, how else are you supposed to live in the world?

Its that inner human raging against the lack of order in this fucked up world of ours. Because were more than just animals. Were more than just instinct. We live lives and remember the beauty of things, and when thats lost, it hurts us somewhere bad, and that doesnt heal right.

So. Vengeance.

Vengeance its an action. Lets go from there. Im not good at this philosophy shit. Find an academic for that one. Ill just give you the practicals of doing the deed.

The most important thing is understanding if you can execute on it at all. Wanna kill some piece of shit local ganger? Easy. Ursday night gig.

Trying to bomb a Guilder factory for tainted formula that your baby brother died on?

Yeah. Maybe downgrade that to assassinate a member of the board or something.

The ultimate thing is finding the realistic point where satisfaction meets tangibility. You want to hurt them back and get away without blowback. And make no mistake, you will do this for satisfaction or not at all. Revenge can feel good. Or like nothing. The former turns you into a suicidal joy-fiend. The latter ends with you learning to give head using a gun barrel. Both end in ugly ways.

In the end, theres no amount of hurt that plugs up a wound. Dont be blind about what youre doing, otherwise, you might just end up being Soul-fuel without ever seeing the end of your goals.

-Quail Tavers, School of the Warrens

20-11The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñøv€l-B1n.

Blood in the Bright

Across the Sunderwilds where patches of stability stood deviant from the sprawling chaos of impossibility, reflective conduits came alight far through the Fallen Heavens. Passage formed across each leg of their journey, becoming exits down a vast and long path.

One such passage stood above all the others, and it was imbued within a single pane of glass, connecting enclave to a bivouac just beyond New Vultun itself.

With such, the expedition stood a success, but the wielder of the miracle was not finished, for the city had yet to be claimed, and the girl had yet to speak her wish.

What do you want to do?

Such were the words Avo asked Dice after infusing her with all the memories he had taken.

From a hundred and twelve deaths, he reconstructed a lost history and offered them over Dice, as was her inheritance.

The girl didnt collapse inward like Essus. She did not turn deviant in the way Chambers did. She didnt even rage like the Agnos.

From her person emanated but a single sensation, and it was coldness.

A growing chill spilled from the crack of her consciousness, like a door left half open during days of falling snow.

Within a shard of glass, ghoul, girl, and Regular drifted in a space between places as a war raged on beyond.

Do you think he ever really cared for me? Speaking the words took something out of her and lessened the weight of her ego, but she remained vacant of trauma.

Nearby, Avo noticed Draus shrugging. The Regular was peeking out a number of passages leading out into the tangible world. The demiplane of her Liminal Paracosmos was a weightless reality made from shifting shards, overlapping fractals, and moving reflections. Presently, a constellation made from five hundred and two dancing shards shifted around them, serving as passage and peephole both.

Dont think the man himself could rightly tell you, juv, Draus said, pulling a few additional pieces of glass from the plane around them. Half-strand sounds like he had a bad case of fuckers remorse. Just enough to snuff and torture, not enough to go all the way. She spat, and chasm widened within the demiplane, passing her globule over into the real. Aint no worth tryin to figure him out. Piece of shits dead. Youre still here. You got his enclave. You got his people. Question is what do you want to do with em?

{Captain Draus, I hope youre not implying mass murder as a means of therapy?} Calvino said, transmitting its disappointment into Draus Neurodeck directly.

Who said anything about therapy?

{I can reject your weaponry requisition requests, you know?}

Alright, alright. Wasnt what I meant anyway. Aint no worth in killin these baseliners. Theyre soft. Weak. Shit, I didnt know people could get this small. Havin a hard time differentiating between the adults and the kids here. Cullin them'd be less fight than hittin a Syndicate, and Im worn on bug-stomping. Tired of things here too. She turned her attention over to Avo and the ghoul turned to Dice instead.

Her home. She was technically like a princess. For a while. Should be up to her.

{Within reason,} Calvino said, voice tinged with a warning. {Many in this city are suffering because of powers beyond their control. I have been very measured with you so far, Avo, however}

I know, Avo replied. Dont think thats what Dice wants. Is it?

No, the girl said, softly. I dont want that. I Her voice trailed off. I never hated the dogs I killed. But I got better food if I won. I got their beds too. The masterYakozitrin. He taught me that you cant hurt a dog after its dead. But its food can be yours. Its bed and kennel too. He is dead now. His food is ours. His kennel too. She paused. But theres also the others.

The others? Avo asked.

The girls body gave a mechanical whine as she nodded. I want to talk with them. The ones who knew my mother and father the most.

Avo understood. In flesh or as templates?

She considered her options. I want to talk with my aunt. Personally. I want to see her before you burn her. I dont care how I talk to the rest.

The blood within Avo quivered with mirth as the Woundmother laughed. Oh, what a lovely little hound. So resilient. And accepting. If only your pet degenerate and the crying one could exhibit half her mettle.

[Hey, fuck you,] template-Chambers said, without any sense of amusement this time. [Her lifes completely fucked. I mean, my dad was a piece of shit too, but he never made me fight dogs for food.] A note of genuine depression escaped him. And jealousyof the girls unbreakable demeanor. [Fuck. Shit. Maybe my old man wasnt even that bad. Wouldnt that be funny.]

+No,+ Avo replied, faint memories of Walton lighting his mind. +It can only be a thing of sorrow. Chambers. Youre still a person. She will never be. Doesnt even seem to want it.+

And as Chambers let out a quivering exhale in his section of the mindscape, he left to seek Dices template, not sure what he was going to say, but probably about to shit-talk his dad.

Meanwhile, blood began to leak back through the reflections across the city, and shards of glass began to move.

***

Mail capsule inbound!

The head operator's cry was chorused by her assistants, and Hand Urrins watched their bodies explode into motion as reflections in the glass. The brass pipelines running between the walls rumbled and dinged as more messages returned from the battlefront. The scribes moved to their stations, adjusting snapping gears, spinning squeaking valves, and turning designated knobs in perfect sync, their coordination honed through years of cooperation.

How he envied their efficiency, how he wished he could have plucked it from them and bound it to the soldiers fighting below, almost seeming to time their foreboding loss with the masters return.

The city of light was burning from within. Fire was rising where once only water flowed in ascent.

Standing at the very top of the Hightower, Urrins looked out from beyond the windows and cycled between magna-optic lenses. Position high over the city itself, and looking down over all there was to see, he saw the masses of clashing bodies, the positions where his Pearlguards were holdingand breakingbut also burning wheelbarrows pushed ahead heretical mobs, using the smoke to shield their movements from his gaze.

Of the five rungs of this blessed city, two were lost beyond doubt, the third was collapsing, and the second was being assailed.

Eight massive platforms rose and fell between the first and third rungs, carrying with them dispatches of manpower and supplies. The rails leading past the third had been blown, leaving any still fighting below stranded.

But the Dogmothers forces had their way. Servants and traitors were positioned on levels above to aid in their climb. Ladders were built atop the sprawl of slums and ropes were thrown down from compromised positions.

One after another, they were trickling up. Inch by inch, the Pearlguard was losing the city.

Sir, a scribe attended him, holding out a sealed letter. The boy was youngtoo youngface without lines and skin soft. Terror crept along the corner of his eyes, but he held himself together well. He was dressed in robes too large for himand the patch of blood told Urrins all he needed about how a novitiate had won the right to wear the robes of a learner. A sigil bearing the insignia of a quill held his apprentices toga worn on the outside of his uniform, and the Hand sighed.

She sneered at him disdainfully, as if she was regarding a bug that buzzed too close.

Her arm blurred. His blade shattered into pieces. He stumbled back, seeking retreatand for one of his brothers to take his placebut found himself about to slam into a pane of glass.

Yet, just as he was about to strike his own reflection, he tumbled through and found himself adrift in a place of shifting edges and ambient light. The world around him was reflection, glass-like in design, and the sheer oddness of its expanse made his mind quail.

Suddenly, impossibly strong fingers buried themselves into the nape of his neck, and he heard his armorblessed by the master himselfcrack and give between sinking digits.

No, Haadruer thrashed, not used to being so weak, so easily handled. Let go! Fucking release!

Come on, the giantess simply said. Stop thrashin. Damn embarrassings what it is. Lucky I decided to snatch you instead of the rotlick. Got someone for you to see. Heard you might be the one who chopped the head off a certain concubine after your master was done with her.

Confusion and terror mixed in his stomach. C-concubine? What? Then, a memory came back. One from a few years ago, and he thought had an inkling of what was being said. Itheri.

Well, the giantess clucked. Looks like the ghoul burned the right mem-data into me after all.

***

How much longer will this last, Ivory groaned.

She waved a goblet out, motioning for one of her serving girls to fill it as she stared glumly at the ceiling.

Smoke drifted on the wind and ash settled down even in the inner courtyard, painting the garden an unnatural white. The servants were doing all they could to keep the masters greenery from being soiled, but they were losing the battle.

Really, the Pearlguard needed to handle these matters and get done with the war already. Itd been almost of month of gas and water rationing. She needed a proper bath. The ceiling was alight againhow was she supposed to make herself presentable as a concubine when the master returned?

Did they think it was easy holding the masters attention, the lecherous prick?

Every year, his choices grew paler and younger, and Ivory aged despite herself.

Last night, she even plucked a white hair.

Patting her womb, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She might not be the favorite forever, but her place in the highest houses was cemented with the child she bore. All she needed now was to ensure that

A drop of red spilled down on her. Ivory blinked. Suddenly, lines of red were spreading through her personal mansion like creeping veins beneath the limestone, causing her to sit up and squint, waving her fanning servants to step aside.

Beyond the opening of the courtyard, she saw chasms of crimson tear across the dome of their enclave, and strange flashing distortions pulsed through the air.

Faintly, a presence brushed over her, its weight like her loves, but stronger by far.

Ivory choked momentarily, and barely heard the clamor sounding from the outside.

What she didnt miss was one of her personal guards being thrown so hard his flesh flattened, leaving him caked along the steps beside her, viscera spilling from his ruptured face.

Servants started to scream. The sounds of desperate combat pulled Ivorys attention back toward her atriumthrough shattered doors. There, standing in the light was a creature aglow in the light, its body made from blades of hissing metal, each constantly shifting, pistoning, gleaming. It dragged the mangled body of a guard with all the effort it would take one to bear a pebble.

Instinctively, Ivory darted behind her nearest servant girl while her hands went to her stomach. Thought and rationality were lost to her now. She needed to escape. She needed to

Aunt.

Ivory froze. The voice was coming from the metal figure, its hammering against cracking wood. It sounded familiar. Too familiar, just like

Oh, by the light, Ivory moaned, holding the servant tight to her.

How did the metal creature have the voice of the hound? Was it some kind of demon?

It came into view again, and servants scattered, abandoning her mistressand her shieldto whatever fate would follow.

Wait! Ivory screamed. C-com

Her words died as a cage of blood formed around the courtyard the moment the last servant fled. Immediately, the centermost section of her home went from a leisurely garden to a bleeding cage.

Held tight in her grasp, the serving girl began to weep, and Ivory wasnt far off herself. The only other person present was the metal demon, and it had come to a stop just a few strides away from Ivory.

Youre my aunt. Arent you.

Again it spoke and sounded just like the girl.

Ivory swallowed. I I

Why did you tell Hand Urrins about my mother and father? She was your sister. You knew what the master would do.

The question graced her like a falling whip and she felt sick beyond the pregnancy. I didnt you cant be

Her words were interrupted by a droning pressure hammering down upon her thoughts.

We can talk once youre calm, the demon said. No need to hurry. The declaration will come first. Youll understand after that.

Ivory swallowed. Declaration?

And ethereal flames came alight in the veins around them, sinuous threads echoing as Ivory was bathed in the uncanny sensation that was a thoughtcast for the first time in her life.

***

Across the city, on every level, warriors stopped fighting, and people huddled in corners, trying to flee spreading blood.

There was nowhere the infection hadnt spread. Nowhere anyone could run to avoid it. It was in the air, in the flesh, in the stones and light themselves.

Where once this city belonged to the Fallwalker, Yakozitrin, now a new power laid their claim, and so they spoke their first words.

But not as a conqueror.

No.

As a liberator.

+Enclavers. Slaves of Yakozitrin. Masters dead. Never coming back. Taking this city for myself. Stop fighting. Or Ill do it for you. Do whatever else you want. Dont really care.+ A pause followed. +Thats all.+

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

And across the city, on every level, the people exploded into pandemonium.

Ghosts - [26,560,399]

Liminal Frame (V) - 21,036 THAUM/c