Episode 43

The system of power turns like a wheel

You can rise to the top through money or steel

You could lift up others or leave them in muck

But it’s the poor who will suffer when the wheel becomes stuck

If the problems aren’t met with any solution

The wheel must turn in bloody revolution

The vermin will rise as the predator sinks

Let’s see then if the fox can outsmart the lynx

In an opulent office on the top floor of the Weardian headquarters in Freedos, Lilian Lausanne is standing stock still. A voice in her head is screaming at her to move, but fear has frozen her legs and shortened her breath to the point where free and fluid movement have become impossible. The man in front of her, a young Weardian officer, just drank an entire canister of Nightshade and Lilian was having difficulty knowing how to react. She could run out of the office door and be faced with the remaining Weardian force, or she could stick to the original plan and try to get out of the window and climb down the wall of the building to street level. As she watched the last drop of purple potion fall into the man’s mouth she tried to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat.

Suddenly he dropped the canister and doubled over, clutching his stomach. The container hit the carpet with a thud and rolled towards Lilian’s feet. A memory sparked in her mind. The last time she’d watched someone take Nightshade the same thing had happened. Alexi Genaro, the self proclaimed freedom fighter, had drunk the potion near Chekhad Square. The same thing had happened to him as was happening to this young officer right now. Lilian quickly recalled the fight in her mind. The thugs he had been dealing with had reached for a crossbow rather than running straight forward and attacking him. In the time it had taken to load the weapon though, the Nightshade had taken effect and its strengthening capabilities had enhanced Genero’s body. Perhaps there was a window there, a few seconds where the Nightshade needed time to act. A groan escaped from the young officer’s body. He was still crouching down, clutching his abdomen as if he’d just been hit by the world’s worst stomach ache.

Lilian wasted no more time. She pushed her fears aside and put energy back into her legs. Giving the officer a wide berth she rushed round to the right, carving a wide arc towards the open window. He noticed her moving and looked as though he tried to block her path, but the pain was too great and he was forced to the floor once again. Lilian said a silent thank you to whichever god or goddess was watching over her. A couple more gold crowns spilled from her bag, but she ignored them, content with the bulk of the hall still being secure.

She was two steps away from the window sill, practically home free, when a deafening crash stopped her mid run.

The young officer had crawled over to the desk, reached up to grab a heavy glass paperweight and had hurled it at Lilian. Thankfully, the Nightshade was still taking effect so his aim had been off and the heavy orb had hit the wall, shattering into a thousand glass shards upon impact. Lilian cursed his persistence. Before she could take another step he had reached for a candelabra and was throwing that as well. This time, his aim was better and Lilian had to take two steps back to avoid it. The candles fell away midair and the heavy metal object hit the wall with a clang before falling to the floor. Lilian glanced over at the wall, the impact had left a large dent in the paneling. She cursed, the Nightshade was taking effect. Within a few seconds he would be filled with years of amassed strength and reflexes. She looked back at him in time to dodge a book aimed at her head. His eyes were already beginning to bleed that eerie purple ichor, the telltale signifier of a Nightshade user. His breathing was becoming heavier too, occasionally he would let out a grunt when he threw something and when he spoke, his voice was noticeably deeper.

“I will stop you!”

Lilian had run out of time. What’s more, she was pinned in the corner. She’d let her opponent control the middle of the space and he had a large supply of projectiles to hand. These were basic mistakes and she cursed her panic stricken brain for letting her make them. Mr Attorcop would not be happy. She spun to her right to dodge an incoming inkwell. It exploded in a shower of black liquid when it hit the wall. Anger began to rise up inside Lilian, shoving fear and panic aside. Stuff this, she thought, and before her attacker could grab anything else, she pushed herself off the wall, and went on the attack.

To an outside observer, or indeed, anyone who knew anything about Nightshade, this was a bad idea. But Lilian had no other choice, he was blocking her exit and would only keep growing stronger unless she put him out of action. She dodged left and right as she moved towards him, trying to confuse his ichor addled eyes. He focused his attention on her and Lilian saw his fingers widen, this showed her that he was going to try and grab her. Good, she thought, he was a little bigger than her so she should be able to avoid his grasp. She feinted left and he took the bait, lunging clumsily to where he thought she was going. Instead, Lilian dropped down and disappeared from his line of sight, using her forward momentum to propel herself between his legs. She stood up quickly, but not to her full height. She had anticipated his twisting backward punch and so remaining crouched she kicked out at his knee. His center of gravity was off from the twist and as Mr Attorcop had once said, ‘you can be as strong as you like, but you can’t beat gravity.’ And so Lilian used gravity to her advantage, shoving the officer with all her might as he tried to find his footing after the kick. Luckily, it worked. The officer fell and so now Lilian had the advantage. She reached blindly behind her at the desk and closed her fingers on the first thing she came into contact with. It was cold, and heavy. Lilian had to shift her body to compensate for its weight. She bought the object up and over her head just as the officer was beginning to stand up. Suddenly, she felt water splashing down the back of her neck and she realised that she’d grabbed the large glass vase. There was no time to reconsider. A shower of flowers cascaded all around her as she brought the vase down directly on top of the officer’s head.

The impact had been enough to shatter the glass and send the officer back down to the floor with a sickening crack. Lilian looked up, the path to the window was clear, but something drew her attention to the back of the room. A small cloud of smoke was coming from the far bookcase, flickering flames writhing at the base.

‘Twelve Hells…” she cursed. Quickly stepping over the young officer, who was unconscious and unmoving, she glanced around the room for a means of fighting the fire. She saw one of the candles from the candelabra lying guiltily on the floor. It must have remained lit after the officer had thrown its base. A small voice in her brain told her to leave the fire and run, but that decision would undoubtedly lead to the death of the young man in front of her. No, she could be responsible for that, no matter how much hurt he had intended to inflict on her, she could not leave him to die. She remembered the fear that had been in his eyes when he’d seen her come out of her invisibility. He was still young, and his death would weigh too heavy on her heart.

Lilian’s spirits fell again when she looked around and realised that she’d just spent the only source of water in the room on knocking out her assailant. Muttering several more curses, she scanned the office. All she could see were books, shelves and papers. Every object her eyes fell on looked more flammable than the last. A groan from her feet drew her attention to the officer. His body was shifting a little and he seemed to be coming round. A loud crack drew her attention back to the fire, it had begun to creep up the bookshelf, within minutes, it would be out of control. Lilian glanced behind her for inspiration. There was a small, glass shelving unit on the opposite wall to the window. On it were several decanters and glass bottles containing different coloured liquids. She ran over to it and grabbed one, acting on pure instinct at this point. Thankfully, common sense still resided somewhere in her panicking mind. She unstoppered the bottle and sniffed the contents. She reeled back at the pungent and unmistakable odor which invaded her nostrils and stung her eyes. Alcohol. If she’d thrown this on the fire, the whole room would have gone up like the Garrow’s barn. She threw the bottle to one side in frustration, all decorum having left her. She went back to the bottles and looked for anything clear. Surely whoever worked here must mix their spirits with something, she thought, picking up bottle after bottle and smelling the liquid inside. Finally, on the fourth bottle, she couldn’t smell anything. Her heart jumped with joy, water!

Lilian rushed over to the bookshelf. The flames were up to her eyeline now. She had to cover her mouth and nose with her sleeve as she approached the blaze. Her eyes hurt from having to keep them open amidst the cloud of ash that was now spewing out of the bookshelf. She focused them on the base of the fire and tipped the bottle over it as best she could. The glug-glug of the water preceded a satisfying hiss as the liquid hit the flames. She aimed the neck of the bottle up to the books that were being licked black by the fire. She watched the precious, life-saving liquid drain from the bottle. Her eyes were crying from the sting of the smoke but she kept at it. Emptying the bottle all over the carpet, the bookshelf and the surrounding floorboards, she made sure every last drop was spent before throwing the bottle on the floor, satisfied that the fire was finally out. Now she could escape with a clear conscience and head down to rescue Mr Attorcop from the basement cells.

Just then, she heard a scraping, shifting sound coming from behind her. Turning slowly, Lilian saw a dark shape starting to loom up and above her. All the air left her lungs, all the strength drained from her legs. The young Weardian officer had woken up, the Nightshade having quickened his recovery, and he was standing with his left arm raised above his head. In his hand, suspended as if by magic or some deific power, he held the massive wooden desk. Lilian took a gulp of air but coughed it back out quickly as the hot ash from the fire still choked the air around her. She tried to spit and splutter a word, a cry for help, anything. But no words escaped her. In a flash, too quick to be human, the officer heaved the table towards her, uttering his repeated warning that now became a dreadful threat.

“I WILL STOP YOU.” This single idea had taken control of his mind as was made obvious by this drastic attack. Lilian barely had time to flinch before the desk was sent careening through the smokey air. She brought her arms up, crossed in front of her face in defence but there was nothing she could do but brace for impact. The full force of the furniture hit her like a galloping horse. Lilian was instantly knocked back and felt a sharp pain in her right forearm. The table flattened her body against the wall behind her and even though most of the air had been pushed out of her lungs, she had thankfully managed to remain conscious. She had anticipated more damage and couldn't understand why she hadn't been completely obliterated by the heavy oak table. In the dark space between wall and table though she was able to notice a crack in the bookshelf to her right. It seemed as though the books had taken the brunt of the force, a few lay piled by her feet. Still, her arm hurt like Hell and she suspected a broken femur at the very least.

As quickly as it had appeared, the table was pulled away. The young officer, blinded by rage and power, threw it aside as if it was a broken apple barrel. Lillian took in a shocked breath when she saw his eyes. They were now fully dyed sickly purple and had dark, raised veins all around them. Lillian caught a glimpse of more dark mauve liquid seeping out of their edges, like he was crying tears of thick claret. She kicked out, trying to put him off balance again, but this time he anticipated her attack. His hand whipped down just in time to catch her foot by the ankle. With a deep grunt he flicked his arm back and Lillian went flying forwards, foot first. She twisted mid-air and landed on her broken arm. A blinding light shot across her vision as her whole body winced from the pain.

Lilian tried to open her eyes but her vision was blurry from the impact. Determined not to give up, she attempted to stand. But it was no use. In two seconds, the officer was on her and she felt a pair of abnormally strong hands grip her shirt and trousers. Her vision returned in time for her to see the carpet rush back into the distance as she was unceremoniously hoisted into the air. Lilian began to kick and flail above the officer’s head, sending the odd gold coin flying out of her bag, but to no avail. The officer's grip was too strong and even punching him in the head, which she managed to do twice with her good hand, was useless. The officer ignored the blows like they were flies buzzing about. Lilian felt a new kind of dread when she looked up and realised she was being walked towards the window. Her mind reeled and she resorted to desperate pleas.

"No, I beg you! You don't have to do this, stop! Please stop!" But her prayers fell on deaf ears and with a final lurching heave, Lilian was thrown out of the open window.

Lilian Lausanne had heard it said once, that in times of great danger time appears to slow. The trillion fibres of the mind fire at once in response to the stress and a person interprets this by seeing the world move more slowly. This allows the brain to see previously hidden solutions, fire warnings to the body to move out of the way of danger and do all that it can to save its fragile corporeal cage. For Lilian flying through the window however, none of this was true. One moment she was in the hot, ash-filled office, the next she was feeling the evening breeze on her face. And no sooner did she notice the flagstones down on the road below, did she see them rushing up towards her at break neck speed. Thankfully, she had the sense and time to cover her head with her arms. She’d fallen off horses and ladders in the past, but this impact would not be so forgiving. She braced herself, took a breath and shut her eyes.

“Lilian! Lilian??”

After some time, Lilian was not sure exactly how long, she began to hear something. Through fuzzy darkness, a voice was speaking. It sounded familiar. Was it saying… a name? Yes. And not just any name. It was her name. It was both strange and familiar. Nearby but also very far away. Her ears latched onto the sound and let it guide her mind back to waking. As soon as she was able to open her eyes to see who it was that was speaking however, she was met by intense pain coursing through her body. A white hot sharpness punctured every breath, a heavy stinging came from her right arm and her head was beating out a rhythmic, throbbing ache which blurred her vision and muddled her mind. The voice nearby was persistent though, so she opened her eyes to try and make sense of her surroundings. Although the sun was setting there was still enough light to make her eyes hurt.

“Lilian? Oh, you’re awake, thank goodness.” She recognised the voice just as its owner came into focus.

“Katherine?” Lilian tried saying her friend’s name, but only a quiet, creaky whisper came out.

“Don’t speak my love, we’re going to get you somewhere safe.” Lilian was able to shift her head enough to get a better sense of her surroundings. Katherine was kneeling beside her and looking about for someone who could help them. The sky was tinted pink by the setting sun and despite the fact that it was a warm, balmy evening, a large dark cloud hung above them. She followed the cloud, which was moving at an alarming rate, and saw that her eyes had deceived her again. This was no storm cloud, but a steady stream of black smoke pouring out of several of the windows above her. Odd, she thought. She could have sworn she had put out the fire. The memory of the blaze sparked the rest of her mind to life and Lilian could suddenly remember everything that had happened prior to her untimely ejection from the building via the office window. She had no idea why Katherine was here but before asking she decided to check to see whether her bag of coins was still by her side. She lifted her head slightly, sending a jolt of pain down her neck but she saw it, tucked under the small of her back. Her right hand went to touch it and she could feel the hard metal beneath the canvas. It was all there. Technically, she had succeeded in leaving the building with the contents of the coffers, but it was a bit of a pyrrhic victory considering her current condition. And Mr Attorcop! The thought of him spurred her to speak even though her mouth was dry and each word was agony.

“Crom… well…”

“Hush my darling, don’t speak, Taymore will be here soon and we can get you somewhere safe.” Lilian didn’t recognise the name Taymore, so was confused as to who that might be. Katherine went back to looking about, occasionally she would tense her body and Lilian would feel a small pang where her hand would squeeze her shoulder. Lilian turned her head. There were a lot more people around than she had thought. Weardian officers carrying buckets rushed too and fro, in and out of the burning building. Bystanders gathered in small crowds, some were pointing at her and Katherine. There was an atmosphere of panic and confusion. Lilian wasn’t sure why she hadn’t been arrested yet but gathered that the fire must have taken priority over finding the thief. Besides, if no one had actually seen her being thrown out of the window, then she was just an injured young girl. The bystanders would assume she’d been knocked down by a horse or something. Lilian thanked the heavens for the small victory.

“Please, excuse me! We need help!” Katherine was trying to stop the odd Weardian officer as they rushed past, but they were too busy with the fire to acknowledge her, or perhaps too selfish to care. Lilian managed a small smile, so much work to save an office that was currently unable to pay them. If they chose to help an injured girl, they would be saving their jobs. The irony tasted sweet. “Please, anyone!” Lilian could hear desperation in Katherine’s voice. Lilian wanted to say that she was fine, but she noticed then that Katherine’s hand was stained red. The shock from the crimson stain caused her vision to blur again. She was hurting so much all over that she had no idea from where or how badly she was bleeding. She looked back up at Katherine and her vision focused enough to see that she was crying.

“Please! I need help, my friend is hurt!” Her quiet pleas had become desperate shouts, but still no one paid her any attention. One officer even jostled into her and carried on without so much as an apology. Katherine began to sob. It hurt Lilian to see her friend like this, she wanted to say that she was okay. But the words caught in her throat. Which was itself a sign that she was not okay.

Suddenly, as if answering some low whispered prayer, a figure dressed all in white and gold appeared above them. It was a man and when he spoke, his voice was low and calm.

“Good evening little rabbits. The sun is sadly setting, but perhaps I might shine its light on you both?” Katherine looked up and smiled in relief. Lilian turned her head and saw the bright white coat and shining blue eyes of Zadoch Korshid. He knelt down beside her and Lilian could see that his eyes were flecked with gold and had a mad look in them. Her heart jumped at the sight of a friendly face. Zadoch smiled and spoke in earnest.

“It looks as though you are in need of... help.” Lilian kept her mouth shut, even in this dire situation, she knew not to accept the help of a Holy Solar Pater.

“Yes, please Mr Zadoch.” Lilian’s heart sank. Katherine did not know. She shifted and began to speak…

“No… Kath… don’t.”

“Please Lilian, try and be quiet. See Mr Zadoch, she’s hurt. I don’t know what happened.” Zadoch looked her over with a healer’s eye and furrowed his brow.

“Hm… and where is our friend Cromwell?” Katherine looked around.

“I… I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him.” Zadoch looked once at Lilian who met his eye with what she hoped was a stern, disapproving expression. Zadoch then saw the bag at her side, looked back at the burning building and pieced the whole thing together.

“I think I understand. If my supposition is correct, Cromwell will be somewhere in there. Doubtless fearful for his life. The fire is spreading quickly.” Katherine began to breathe quickly, taking big gulps of hot, ash filled air with each panicked breath.

“Could you help him too?” She asked, her voice laden with despair. Zadoch responded with a shining bright smile.

“Yes, that should not pose a problem.” Katherine looked relieved.

“Thank you, Mr Zadoch, thank you. Now, if you could help me lift Lilian…” Zadoch, interrupted her.

“No need my dear. Just hold out your hand and speak aloud that you officially and unequivocally require and desire my help, in full knowledge that I am a practitioner and pater of the Holy Solar Order. Give me your hand child, and all will be well.” Katherine did as she was told. She looked confused but seemed ready to do anything in order for help to be given, even a silly thing like shaking hands. Lilian tried to protest.

“No… Katherine… don’t.”

“Yes… fine…” She went on, ignoring Lilian, “I officially ask for your help. Now if you could just…” Zadoc interrupted her by going to touch her outstretched hand. Lilian could only look on in horror, as he turned Katherine’s palm to face the sky and then sandwiched it between his two hands. He was kneeling now and had his eyes closed as if in prayer. When he spoke, his voice was different. A little deeper, perhaps, more serious.

“I accept your request and by the power of the sun, shall fulfill your wish above and beyond the capacity of mortal men.” Katherine’s face was a picture of confusion. Lilian cursed her broken body and knew that if she survived, she would live to regret being unable to stop the pact that had just taken place before her. The sun finally set behind the old volcano but the light began to grow.

It was small at first, like a single candle at the back of the Stave Church. But then it was joined by others, little lights flickering on around the first. Within seconds Lilian was surrounded by a light as strong as a small fire. She looked around for its source, expecting to see a mass of paper lanterns or a cart having caught a flame from the nearby building. But there was nothing. Then, the light intensified as Zadoch Korshid leant towards her. Lilian had trouble keeping her focus on him, but she thought she could make out the shape of him holding his hands over her. He held them one over the other, both palms down and fingers splayed out. The light grew stronger still, strong enough to force Lilian to shut her eyes. Her next breath came easier than the last, and with each one that followed, the worst of the pain began to subside. Her head became slightly less heavy, her arm: more relaxed and movable. The process did not last long but by the end of it Lilian felt considerably better. She was even able to open her eyes and move about without too much difficulty. She propped herself up on her left elbow and looked at Zadoch.

“That’s all I can do for now. I should hurry to help Cromwell.” And without another word, he stood up and left, too fast for Lilian to even thank him. As he disappeared from view, the light left with him. With it, went a strange heat that had been growing for some time. Lilian turned around to watch Zadoch stride across the road towards the entrance of the Weardian Headquarters. He was largely ignored by the officers nearby who were still preoccupied with putting out the fire. Perhaps, Lilian would ponder later, if there hadn’t been a fire, they would have sensed the heat coming from behind them in time. Some of them did turn when he got too close. Lilian heard them shout warnings first and threats soon after. None of their words or gestures distracted Zadoch though. He walked forwards with a calm, constant pace. Lilian still wasn’t fully recovered and so had to shut her eyes when once again, the light became too bright. The heat was also back and growing in intensity by the second. Lilian continued to keep her eyes shut and even turned her face away from its source which she took to be Zadoch himself, or something close to him.

Suddenly the light dipped, Zadoch must have entered the building. Even from this far away, she could still feel the heat. Those inside the Weardian headquarters must have felt it too, only with greater intensity. She began to hear screaming from inside the building. Lilian thought of the sun, of the incredible power by which it gave the world life, and of the terrible reminder of how it took it away.