Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea
Tales
September 20th, 2024
Reading time
392 AC
"It was a summer afternoon. Pollen drifted through the air, while in the fields, sickles and scythes fell on the wheat heads. Not far from the mill, flails threshed the grain, as the sweet song of the winnowers echoed. Idle children played in the straw, laughing loudly, while forks and hooks piled up bundles of hay in the barns. This was life in Caer Oorun, moving to the rhythm of the seasons and the passage of time. The Province had always been Asgartha’s granary, its pantry... Who would have thought it would one day be set ablaze? It appeared with the storm. Thunder began rumbling within the clouds, a deep roll that didn’t bode well. Purple lightning streaked the sky, casting a gloomy hue over the fields. People hurried to cover the bundles and tools with tarps, trying to protect them as best they could from the rain. The drops soon started to fall, heavy and strangely salty… We heard the muted crack of trees collapsing, uprooted—so we thought—by terrible winds. A house suddenly exploded, while broken logs and piles of thatch were thrown above the treetops. It was as if a cyclone had swept through without warning, and we rushed to the nearest available shelter. And that’s when we saw it. Its tentacles slithered through the trees, making them bend and fall like ordinary dominoes. Its mantle rose above the tree canopy, standing tall like a sinister tower. Its arms weaved through the fields, surrounded by waves that shouldn’t have been there..."
Sigismar closes the book and rubs his eyes, extinguishing his kelonic lantern as he does so. He sighs audibly. So, the Kraken could appear anywhere, even beyond the coastal regions... This will complicate their search. Sig grabs his pocket watch, engraved with his family’s crest. He opens it to find that the staff meeting is about to start. Tucking the book he has been reading under his arm, the Paladin of the Aegis leaves his office and heads toward the forecastle.
The tension on the deck is palpable. All the officers are present, along with every representative from the Factions. Admiral Singh stares beyond the bay window, scanning the horizon.
‘The Exalts have allowed us to delve deep into Caer Oorun, but still no sign of the Kraken,’ she muses, more to herself than to the group.
General Vong clears his throat.
‘I propose we divide the forces of the Aegis and the Bravos fyrds into four cardinal contingents to survey the Province. By scouting this way, we’ll cover much more ground. It won’t be able to elude us any longer.’
General Nimeda chuckles from her corner.
‘Do you think the Kraken is running from us? No, it’s waiting patiently, biding its time, watching for the slightest mistake. Divide our troops, you say? That’s the very misstep it’s been waiting for. Even if misstep might not be the right word when referring to tentacles.’
Damn, so much useless talk. Sigismar feels his impatience rising like a swelling tide.
Vong shakes his head.
‘And what do you suggest? That we continue wandering aimlessly? The longer we delay, the more our Exalts will suffer from indecision. They’ll wear out. And when they’re exhausted, and we’re forced to slink back to Asgartha with our tails between our legs, will you still be so proud then?’
Sig stands straight as a rod, his jaw clenched.
‘Officers.’
All heads turn toward Temera Singh. She hasn’t raised her voice, but her tone is enough to silence all posturing.
‘You’re here to devise a plan of action, not to puff up your egos.’
She turns to face them, her expression unreadable.
‘You won’t earn glory within these four walls, but out there, in the field. At least wait for victory before strutting like roosters.’
Nimeda nods, and Vong follows suit. Generals Dalsgaard and Cewher, who have remained silent until now, stay quiet still.
‘We don’t know if we’re hunting it or if it’s hunting us right now,’ Nimeda adds. ‘If it’s anything like a giant squid, it might be able to camouflage…’
Sigismar had studied that possibility. He had even gone down to the port to observe the behavior of cephalopods caught in fishermen's nets. But that didn’t explain how such a titanic creature could wreak havoc on both coastal and inland regions with such stealth. It’s as if the idea of water could follow it wherever it went, as if it was fused to its very being...
‘Perhaps we should ask our Exalt here?’
Sigismar turns to Esmeralda, perplexed. Although the Eidolon has left command of the Ouroboros to Admiral Singh, she remains in charge of the civilian population of the Sahanka. She is still its Shepherdess. Keeping her embodied like this must require an enormous amount of Mana for her Clan. A hefty price...
‘Wingspan has flown over the Province from end to end,’ Sigismar interjects. ‘It’s ventured into areas where the Tumult is still strong. But it hasn’t crossed paths with the abomination.’
General Vong sighs.
‘If our best scouts return empty-handed, we won’t have much better luck finding it ourselves. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack…’
‘A rather large needle,’ Cewher mutters.
Dalsgaard rubs his temples before shaking his head nonchalantly.
‘The Exalts’ primary mission is to stabilize areas so your scouts can operate there, General.’
For hours, Sigismar has pored over everything written about the Kraken, from the historical anecdotes of Gallas Devadas to the horrific accounts of Lucas Tarr, searching for a weakness, any advantage to exploit.
Reading through the testimonies of the Kraken’s rise had chilled him to the bone, but it’s the creature’s anatomy that proved most useful to study: eight arms covered in suction cups, two prehensile appendages, a sharp beak... Its mantle would be a tough shell to pierce, and the only vulnerable spot might be its siphon—if they can reach it...
Sigismar steps forward.
‘If I may, Admiral.’
Temera Singh turns to him.
‘Please, Exalt. We’re listening.’
Sig takes a deep breath and surveys the assembled Generals.
‘General Nimeda is right. The Kraken will undoubtedly attack any convoy it deems vulnerable. We need to exploit that behavior.’
Admiral Singh narrows her eyes, thoughtful.
‘You’re suggesting we use bait.’
‘Indeed. Give it a target that appears vulnerable to lure it into our net.’
‘And then the bulk of our forces can strike,’ Dalsgaard adds. ‘It makes sense, though I doubt anyone will relish being paraded like bait on a hook.’
Temera Singh sits down, pensive.
‘The Ouroboros can handle that.’
The Generals fall into sudden silence, startled.
‘Admiral?’ asks Rustam Suratov, the spokesperson for the Ordis.
‘Of course, the final decision rests with the Shepherdess of the Kasirga Clan,’ Singh adds. ‘We are merely your hosts, and the choice is yours to make.’
The Eidolon narrows her eyes.
‘Well, without defeating the Kraken, we can’t afford to push our exploration further. Leaving it behind us would risk cutting off all our supply lines…’
A murmur ripples through the assembly as the officers begin to grasp the magnitude of what the Admiral is proposing.
‘Admiral, you’re not suggesting that…’
‘This is madness, risking our mobile outpost?’
‘It’s like walking into the lion's den!’
Temera lets the negative reactions and objections wash over her before raising her hand decisively.
‘I invite you to consider this as tacticians. Sir Sigismar, I assume you have a strategy to propose?’
Sigismar nods.
‘Yes, I do. But for it to work, we’ll need the assistance of a large contingent of Yzmir Mages and Muna Druids.’
Singh turns to Esmeralda.
‘Shepherdess?’
The Eidolon leans against the wall, crossing her arms and sighing.
‘I suppose it’s a gamble we can take,’ she finally says.
Temera nods.
‘The Expeditionary Corps thank you and your Clan. And Sir Paladin? I expect your report and an outline of your plan by tonight. Would that be enough time?’
Sigismar snaps to attention, his heels clicking together.
‘Yes, Admiral!’
The rain beats relentlessly against the bay window as the Ouroboros races over the churning waves. Ahead, the Sahanka’s ring tilts left and right, weaving between jagged cliffs and sharp stacks.
‘Quarterdeck, what’s the status?’ shouts Admiral Singh into the acoustic tube.
The response comes quickly.
‘It’s still following us, Admiral, and it’s getting closer!’ the officer on watch yells, panic in his voice.
‘Gunner, launch a sonic mine to slow it down!’
‘Yes, Admiral!’
Seconds pass, during which Sigismar clutches the railing tightly.
‘Detonation detected on radar!’ the gunner shouts.
‘Monitor its progress. We’re almost there.’
Indeed, the Ouroboros approaches the jaws of the trap they’ve set. With hands gripping the railing, Sig prays to Athena, Tyr, and Odysseus that his plan works.
‘Radio operator, relay our position to the Axiom’s couriers!’
‘Yes, Admiral!’
The officer taps frantically on his telegraph when a violent jolt shakes the ship.
‘Impact port side!’ the officer on watch screams from the bridge.
‘Damage control, what’s our status?’
‘Structural damage to the hull, hold, level four! Stabilizer ring intact, Admiral!’
Temera exhales sharply.
‘Evasive maneuvers. Launch another mine!’
‘Aye, Admiral!’, confirms the gunner.
‘Roger, Admiral!’, echoes the pilot.
Sig grits his teeth, cursing his helplessness. If they lose the Ouroboros, his name will forever be tarnished by this disastrous failure.
‘Sir Sigismar, a word, if you please.’
The Paladin turns to the Admiral, suddenly shaken from his dark thoughts.
‘Saddle your griffon and make for the shore.’
Sigismar blinks.
‘But, Admiral—’
‘You’re no use to me here. I need you as the Aegis’ standard-bearer. Fly to the rendezvous point. Your presence is essential to rally the troops!’
Sig studies the Admiral’s unreadable face before nodding.
He steps out onto the rain- and wind-lashed platform. A pale-faced stable hand, visibly terrified by the dark shadow cutting through the waters behind them, hands him Wingspan’s reins. The griffon shakes itself, equally unsettled, as water trickles down its feathers and fur.
Easy, now. I need you, my friend, for one last spectacle.
The griffon eyes him, placing one paw on the ground to help him mount. Sig climbs into the saddle, grabbing the reins. He turns to gaze at the black shadow of the Kraken, lifting the waters and illuminating the depths with a violet glow.
The Leviathan surges forward with tremendous speed, propelled by its caudal fins, tentacles thrust ahead to pierce through the waters. On the deck, crates and vehicles slide across the wet surface with each lurch of the ship.
‘Get to cover!’, he yells at the stable hand.
The boy doesn’t hesitate, closing the hatch behind him.
Now it was up to him. With a thought, he spurs his mount, and Wingspan gathers momentum, beating its wings frantically to fight the swirling gusts of the storm. The griffon leaps from the platform, spreading its wings to gain lift, then ascends into the stormy skies.
Go, Wingspan.
The griffon screeches as it dives, gaining speed. Sig holds on as best he can as they barrel toward the cove. Soaring above the quivering dunes, he spots the combined forces of the Ordis, the Bravos, the Axiom’s skirmishers, and the ranks of Yzmir Mages waiting, hidden in the tall grass. Using Alteration, he conjures a banner and proudly raises it above the assembled armies.
Glancing back toward the sea, he sees the Ouroboros zigzagging toward them, pursued closely by the enraged Leviathan. The beast enters the inlet, raising a monstrous swell. From the cliffs, flares shoot up into the sky, casting the bay in a bloody crimson glow.
The signal for the assault, the counterattack.
Sigismar points his banner at the abomination, shouting out his fury and frustration. For the stakes here are not only the future of the Rediscovery Endeavor, but also his own redemption.