Ardent

Chapter 6.1

Tyr saw the captain.

This time she didn't move. Her skin was drained of the colour he had recognized from previous dreams, and her penetrating eyes were devoid of life. He was just about to reach out to her, but a loud noise shook his surroundings, dissolving the vision into blackness. The banging continued, and he snapped into an abrupt wakefulness.

His quarters were still heavy with darkness; it was a long way from dawn. Confusion and adrenaline coursed through him, causing him to bolt upright and survey his surroundings. The faint sounds of commotion rang in the distance, but he could not discern their intent or cause.

"Agent Logan! Tyr!" Damien's voice echoed from the other side of the door, tainted with fear and urgency.

Tyr slid out of bed, making his way to the entrance to slam his palm against the controls. He flicked on the lights as Damien bolted through the door, out of breath. The old man's eyes filled with terror, and his hands clenched around the hilt of a long blade sheathed at his waist.

"Damien!" Tyr looked at him, questions widening his surprised eyes. "What is going on? What's happened?"

"The Echoing Chamber is under attack," Damien spat out, the words moving so fast that Tyr had a hard time following. "It came in the night, silently. We had no notice at all. The sound first alerted me to what was happening, and as I left my quarters, I saw the flames. The attendants who were on the watch are all dead, no wounds on their bodies—just dead. Alendor is on fire, and I cannot contact the Chair!"

Tyr's eyes widened as Damien spoke, a sickening feeling turning his stomach. The depth of the distress on his old friend's face was an expression he had never seen the man make. He felt he was being smothered by an unseen heaviness.

Tyr's hands moved with rapid speed, wrapping his robes around his body, and grabbing both a long, ornate curved blade and a small shining pistol from the table. He slid them home at his waist, securing them in his belt. He wrapped his long, silvery hair at the nape of his neck with a piece of fabric, it falling past his waist like a waterfall reflecting the moon's light.

"Alendor has one of the most advanced security plans in place. I do not understand how we have been breached so easily without warning." Tyr kept his voice calm and even, despite the anxiety rising in his body.

Damien shook his head in confusion. "I do not understand it either, Tyr. The Loom has provided strength to Alendor for generations and generations. How could this have happened?"

Tyr clenched his jaw, a grim expression washing over his features. He now realized the significance of the consequences of keeping the Loom's disappearance from the people of Alendor. The Chair had made a grave mistake, and he chose not to protest such a decision when it was revealed to him.

Now, Alendor was burning.

The Chair believed that even with the vanishing of the Loom, the network could hold long enough to either locate the artifact or find an alternative source for the infrastructure. Whatever threat they were dealing with had technology and power far beyond the understanding of even the Bastion. How could the infrastructure go black within such a small time frame? The Loom had only been gone for a short time.

"Let's go," Tyr spoke, giving his old friend a quick nod.

Damien took up the front, leading Tyr down the dark hallway. If it weren't for the sounds that echoed in the distance, it would have appeared that nothing was out of place. As they neared the end of the hall, a faint reddish hue flickered against the walls, creating shadows and shapes in the darkness. Strong heat and crackling noise radiated from the same direction, pushing the faint odour of ash into Tyr's nostrils.

"Fire," Tyr stated, his voice monotone. "We must exit the building and go around from the outside."

Damien nodded and backtracked, slipping down another corridor that ended with a simple door. He flung it open, holding it until Tyr had exited. He let it shut as silent as he could, using his arm to muffle the sound.

The night air brushed coolly on Tyr's skin, causing him to take an involuntary breath to fill his lungs. Acrid smoke tinged the air, and the taste lingered in his mouth. He looked towards the sky, squinting at the grey haze that blocked his view of the stars. He blinked. He saw only the faintest hint of Orion's Nebula, the smoke obscuring all but the most vivid colours behind its thick veil.

He followed Damien, keeping his hand on the hilt of his weapon. A gentle throbbing warmth met his hand, providing some measure of comfort.

Although the weapon itself resembled a sword, it was far more than that. The hilt contained an electrical mechanism powered by the crystals found in the deepest mines of Ohatior. These crystals emitted a charge that would surround the metal blade, keeping it sharp and allowing it to slice easily through organic material.

A sound from behind a tree caught their attention. After a few terrible moments of silence, a stumbling form appeared from behind the tree. It was heading towards them, feet shuffling on the grass. Once close enough, Tyr saw the familiar robes of one of the male Bastion attendants, and he relaxed his grip on his blade.

"Are you alright?" Tyr called out to the shadow.

There was no answer.