Cataclysm Conquest | Chapter 03: Cracks in Paradise (First Draft)

Friday, November 25, 4 S.E.

Xarina, hooded and cloaked, watched in silence from where she leaned against the wall of a restaurant in the Prosperity Quarter, sheltering from the afternoon sun, as the altercation before her escalated—the soft glow of her crimson eyes hidden beneath her cowl.

A group of Terrans, seemingly relatives and friends of some killed in the Cataclysm War, were in a tense confrontation with some of her own people; Svartfenn, formerly of the Starhold, who were watching the Terrans with their orange eyes narrowed, jaws locked angrily as the humans shouted insults at them in a mix of anger and grief.

The scene was hardly unique to the hour or even the day.

The same confrontations had been happening, albeit with gradually less commonality, in Dawnhaven since the King had brought the Svartfenn in. The Aegis of Avalon usually broke them up before they escalated, and respect for Leonidas’ decrees had kept any major civil unrest from breaking out, but every now and then, the veterans of the so-named Cataclysm War and the families of those killed found themselves unable to resist venting.

It didn’t matter that the actual number of Svartfenn that had participated in the raid was a fraction of the population, nor that they had also incurred grievous losses; her people had been the aggressors, and were the ‘refugees’, despite the immense strength they brought to the City.

Yvrain had assumed a place on the King’s Council of the Realm, in acknowledgement of her position as the senior surviving Matriarch of the Starhold, and two more positions had been awarded to her people in kind; both occupied by lesser surviving Matriarchs. Yvrain remained the singular authority over the Svartfenn in every way that mattered, though, except when it came to Leonidas.

Not even Yvrain could overshadow the religious fanaticism with which the children of Talrinar revered and feared the Cataclysm.

“We just want to eat,” one of the Svartfenn said finally, stepping forward and lifting her hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m sorry for what happened to your friends, but we were not part of the Army that—”

“Bullshit!” one of the Terran men snarled. “You’re probably lying! All you lamp-eyes look the same, how the hell are we meant to believe you?!”

Xarina narrowed her eyes at the pejorative, and her lips thinned.

‘Lamp-Eyes’ had become the baseline term of denigration for her people, given that the more evident ones like ‘knife-ear’ were insulting to the other Fenn as well, and ‘ash-skins’ was too close to Terran discriminatory language and made many of them oddly uncomfortable, despite the dominant population of natives having what they called ‘Caucasian’ features.

“We were not there,” the woman said again, clearly the partner of the two men with her, and the mother of the young girls standing behind her. “I can swear it by the System if you would like to—”

“You’d just cheat,” one of the Terrans said, sneering at her as she did. “That’s what you lamp-eyes do, isn’t it? Lie and cheat and knife each other between orgies? Fucking disgusting, is what you are, you miserable—”

Her words cut off a second later as the crowd that had gathered parted, and a patrol of the Aegis of Avalon approached the scene, led by a muscular human adorned in the newly-unified armor scheme: red-trimmed silver plate, the cuirass covered by a leaf-green tabard trimmed in gold, bearing an ornate golden shield emblazoned with the black dragon of the Royal House within it.

“Citizens,” the man began as silence followed his arrival, and his nine companions fanned out around him. “This is no place to be arguing. You’re distressing your fellow subjects and upsetting the King’s peace. I can guess what your quarrel is, and I’ll remind you all again that our new Svartfenn comrades were given amnesty by the Crown.”

Of all the forces in the Kingdom, only the Aegis had retained the traditional organization of the Alteran forces; a subtle nod of acknowledgement from the King, Xarina had learned, to show he was determined to preserve something from the founding race’s cultural norms.

For all his flaws, of which she had decided there were many, she could not deny that Leonidas Pendragon knew how to value his subjects.

“The King is too kind,” one of the Terrans said after a moment, turning his glare on the Dagger-Master, and then pointing angrily at the Svartfenn. “They killed over a thousand of our fellow citizens during the War, and would have slaughtered us all if the King hadn’t made them piss themselves!”

The Dagger-Master appeared undeterred by the man’s words and simply looked from him to the Svartfenn before returning his gaze to the belligerent Terran.

“Haven’t we learned from past mistakes already, sir? Painting an entire people with a bad brush because of a single misunderstanding—”

“THEY KILLED MY BROTHER!”

The shout cut through the Dagger-Master’s words, and the man sighed.

“Citizen, I need you to calm down, before this escalates beyond—”

“Fuck you, traitor!” the man raved. “I’ve had it up to here—” he slapped his palm against his chest, side-on, “—with this bullshit. They’re our goddamn enemies, just waiting for a chance to knife us at the first opportunity! Their bitch leader even strong-armed the King into taking one of their whores as his wife! They’re here to fucking conquer us, you’re all just too stupid to—”

Xarina moved before she was fully aware of what she was doing, and stood before the raving man two heartbeats later, her shortsword drawn and its point pressed to his chin. Her cowl had been blown off by the speed of her movement, but she hardly cared. Her black leather armor and chainmail were easily recognizable, stamped with the sigil of the Ordo Umbrae over her chest: a white Reaper’s skull over two crossed red blades.

If nothing else, Princess Kairi Yunalesca Pendragon had style.

“Say that again,” Xarina said, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as her [Starshadow Core], enhanced to Acceleration just before her recent Elite Tempering, pulsed hungrily in her dantian. “Call me a whore again, you insufferable rodent.”

Silence had descended on the crowd and the Aegis at her appearance, and the Terran man was frozen in a mix of shock and, much to her momentary satisfaction, pure terror. People knew the sigil on her chest; it was one that had already spread throughout the Kingdom to identify the agents of the Crown’s Royal Intelligence Corps when it was needed. Very few of them ever wore their armor so openly, but Xarina had found it had its uses.

Nearby, the Svartfenn bowed, making the clawed gesture of respect over their hearts, which Xarina also studiously ignored.

“Scion Lyrin,” they said, five voices as one, in quiet respect.

“Jake,” one of the Terran’s friends said at the same time, “Jake, she’s a fucking Cleaner!”

Cleaner was a polite term for what Xarina was, though it was accurate.

Most of the Shadows wore identity-obscuring [Aetherium Store] masks when in their armor, to avoid being recognized, but Xarina was part of the Specters, the internal security arm of the Ordo, which Dawnhaven had taken to calling ‘Cleaners’. It had been by Leonidas’ command to assign her as thus, ostensibly to keep her close in accordance with the Oath of Intent, but Xarina didn’t mind. Hunting down terrorists, enemy spies, and seditious elements within the Capital was preferable to being sent on endless foreign deployments.

The Aegis enforced the law; the Ordo Umbrae enforced stability.

The Dagger-Master behind her cleared his throat a moment later, but Xarina ignored him, eyes still fixed on the Terran.

The Ordo Umbrae answered to Kairi and the Crown, nobody else.

“Well?” Xarina pressed, her red eyes flaring as her Core accelerated. “Where are your brave words now, you witless toad?”

“I—I didn’t know,” the man stammered, his eyes wide in terror. “I didn’t think—”

“That I was in earshot, or in general?” Xarina asked, her voice twisted with fury, much of it internalized in a way she chose not to dwell on. “You are so brave when there are no consequences, Terran, but the second there are, you cower like a little nightcrawler.”

Xarina leaned forward, looking down at the shorter man, and pressed her blade a little bit more against his throat, causing him to hold his breath. She hated that it felt good to be feared.

“I am not the Aegis, little man,” Xarina hissed despite her self-recrimination. “I will kill you on the street, and no Court or Magistrate would ever dare to ask why. These people have done nothing to you. You are too stupid and blind to even tell the difference between soldiers and civilians. Let this be a lesson.”

Xarina stared at him for a moment longer and then stepped back, ignoring him as he stumbled back into his friends, and turning to point her blade at the surrounding crowd, including the man’s friends, while slowly turning.

“You have grievances,” she declared flatly, the anger in her voice palpable, but she didn’t care. “Grievances are expected in war, but remember this, you people of Avalon: your King welcomed my people here. Your King took their Oaths of Fealty, avowed by the System itself. Your King declared them citizens, and if you assault them without cause, you are betraying your Sovereign.”

Xarina settled her gaze on the frustrated Dagger-Master, silently, and then raised her eyes again.

“I do not need to remind you what happens to traitors in Dawnhaven.”

Before anyone could say anything in response, Xarina summoned her mana and affinity and stepped, vanishing in a folding of space and darkness and reappearing far beyond the crowd in a narrow alley between two shopfronts. Her blade vanished into her storage when she did, and she flipped her cowl back up, drawing her cloak over her armor and striding away before anyone could spot her.

At least, she tried to escape notice.

“Well, that was amusing.”

Xarina sighed through her nostrils at the voice and stopped, barely fifteen steps from where she’d appeared, and looked over to see Kairi leaning against the wall of the large building that formed one side of the alley, her hood down and a gleam of amusement in her eyes—cold and blue, just like her brother’s.

“Princess,” Xarina greeted her stiffly, offering her direct superior a bow of the head.

“Oh come on, Rina,” Kairi said, using her incorrigible love for nicknames as she pushed off the wall and strode over, peering up into her eyes. “We’ve worked together since day one. You can call me Kairi.”

Xarina grimaced at her words and straightened, assuming an instinctive parade rest as the deceptively lethal, far shorter woman peered up at her.

“You know that I consider that inappropriate, Your Highness,” Xarina said formally, watching the King’s sister warily.

“You know, if you do end up marrying my brother, we’ll be family,” Kairi said casually, folding her arms and tilting her head with a sardonic smile. “You’ll be a Grand Duchess. I’ll still outrank you, but only a by a little bit,” she finished, showing her thumb and forefinger barely an inch apart. “Plus, if Ace knocks your pretty ass up, your kids would be my blood!”

Xarina swallowed her instinctive sense of revulsion at the idea and narrowed her eyes slightly.

“Are you here to discipline me?” she questioned instead, ignoring the Deathdancer’s casual impertinence. Kairi Yunalesca Pendragon was many things, but she was never anywhere without a purpose. If she’d hunted down Xarina through the unique bond the Ordo Umbrae shared with its Eidolon, then there was a reason for it—the System Oaths that allowed Kairi to track her agents were only used when the Princess had reason to use them.

“For what, putting that fuckhead in his place? Nah,” Kairi said, smiling up at her congenially. “I’m here because I’ve got a mission for you, Rina. Something you’ll just love, in fact.”

Xarina released some of the tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and nodded, still watching the Reaper’s Shadow carefully. For all that they were both Elites, there was no doubt that the Ordo Umbrae’s first Eidolon was in a different weight class. Xarina had seen her strange abilities on display too many times during missions to believe she could actually fight the Princess without the benefit of speed and total surprise. Kairi was small, but her speed and lethality were already comparable to an Ascendant.

Just like every member of the Pendragon bloodline, she was a monstrous anomaly.

“I’m ready and prepared to act, Eidolon,” she said formally, still watching the young Princess as Kairi’s eyes searched her.

“I know,” the Deathdancer said after a moment, a coy little smile on her face. “You’ve been so riled up lately, Rina. I can’t tell if that’s because you hate my brother or want to hate him, and I can’t decide what’s funnier—but that aside, I’ve got a juicy target for you to vent some of that fury on.”

Xarina raised a snowy eyebrow at Kairi’s words, and the Eidolon grinned.

“One of the Merchant Council has been very bad, Rina, and you’re going to teach them a lesson they won’t forget,” the Princess said, and motioned for her to follow as she abruptly set off. “I’ll tell you more on the way, and cheer up! I’ll smooth things over with the Aegis. They know better than to fuck with my Shadows, anyway.”

Xarina let herself relax a little as she stepped forward and followed the Princess, joining her as she led her through the city.

“Now,” Kairi said as they walked, “listen closely, because we absolutely cannot fuck this up…”

Listen, Xarina did, lips pursed, and Core revving in her dantian.

In the end, Kairi had been right: by the time the Eidolon finished explaining, Xarina was practically smirking in delight.