The Spark (45 page)

J
ulien DiMarco walked alone down the length of the stone corridor. It was a path he had trod often since losing his dear Rosemary. Every sunrise and nightfall the old kinetic retraced the steps that led him to where he had found the poor woman being beaten and electrocuted. The black scorched stone was all that remained of that fateful night.

Even though he walked the long hallways of the college, Julien was never truly alone. It had been a week since he had enacted the Emergency Security Protocol; a week since the halls he revered became locked down under the ever-present legion of mechanical constructs. Many of the professors were amazed by the antique design of the hidden arsenal, yet none seemed to care for the eventual consequences the act would bring. Julien hated having to resort to such measures, yet he had gone against his baser warnings, hoping his actions would be more justified for once.

Julien let his cane lead him past the remains of the skirmish behind. Before long, and after many junctions, he came to stand in the grand gallery, which was truly no more than a wide, towering hall with over sized arching windows to match. The panes were severely frosted and snow collected along the cast iron framework. Outside the world slept as the snow fell in fat flakes. Even with all that had happened in the past year, Julien DiMarco still found peace watching the dancing snow descend from heaven above. Every so often, the distinct movement of a patrolling construct in the Garden D’Lune disturbed the serenity.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” A woman’s voice asked.

“It is,” Julien agreed, turning to greet the speaker. To his surprise, he was alone.

“Whom do you search for?” the woman asked again.

Julien turned his gaze back to the window. The visage of his dear Rosemary stood beside his reflection. Curious, he looked to either side, only to conclude he was alone. The only place he seemed to have companionship was in the spectral world bound to his reflection.

“You.” He admitted.

“I am with you,” Rosemary’s apparition smiled, fading from view. “Always.”

“Master Julien!” A winded voice called from the base of the great stair. “Master Julien, there you are!” It was the college’s librarian, the terrakinetic Gillard.

“What is it ser?” The old pyrokinetic asked, turning on his cane.

“There has been a sighting.” Gillard said, ascending the stair two-steps at a time.

“Of Rosemary?” A hint of hope leaked into Julien’s tone.

“Ser?” Gillard asked, confused almost.

“My apologies,” Julien’s cheeks burned bright with embarassment. “Only an old man’s grief.”

“No need ser.” Gillard reached the top landing and angled his wire frame spectacles back into position.

“What were you saying about a sighting Gillard?” Julien asked to avoid a prolonged conversation.

“Three airships have been sighted over the ocean waters by the fishermen of Duetermont.” The librarian huffed.

“What of it?” Julien’s pyrokinetic lenses slid down his thin nose as he furrowed his brow. “Airships make their way to Driftwood Isle daily. A little less than normal with this abnormal weather, but the sighting should mean nothing to these fisher folk.”

“Normally I would agree with you ser,” Gilllard agreed. “If not for the flag these ships bore. The telegram said it was a solid field of black with a single gold cog.”

“The Imperial Order.” Julien’s voice trailed off. In truth, the old kinetic had not bothered himself with such details as this Order’s choice of flag and designs. He did recognize the single cog, however, as it was emblazoned on the small crate of kinetically imbued ammunition Lucian Margoux’s steward presented to the council to try and stir them to action.

“Aye.” Gillard agreed. “They are headed for Driftwood Isle.”

“We must warn Gossac. The people must make for safety.” Julien began to walk away, eager to reach the telegraph room to send the warning off to the city.

“There is no need.” There was a sadness, and fear, in the librarian’s tone.

Julien stopped, turned to face Gillard, and asked; “Why not, ser?”

“The ships were seen on a course for the college.” The terrakinetic sighed, as if he had just released the heaviest weight off of his shoulders. “This Order is coming for us.”

“How long ago?” Julien asked.

“I…”

“How long!” The old kinetic slammed his cane on the stone floor.

“The ships will be over our skies in no less than an hour.” Gillard looked to the floor. “We should leave now while we still can.”

“And give up our history to these upstarts?” Julien snapped. “I think not, ser.”

“Julien, the others have already fled for Gossac. The constructs will protect our campus long enough for an army to be marshaled. “

“You are cowards.” Julien was disgusted. He had never been a man destined for war. He had never desired it. In fact, his whole career Julien abhorred the idea of man killing his fellow man. But now he faced a situation that threatened his proud history. There was a fire burning in the old man’s heart, a fire he was
not
going to run from.

“Julien,” Gillard protested. “You must come with me. You will be the only one able to rally the people of Gossac together. You can bring the true hearted kinetics together to stand against this Order.”

“No, Gillard.” Julien said. “My time has come. I am old. I might not make the trip to the city. I may not wake in the morning, or the morning after that. No. I will not wait for the dark shade of death to come for me. I shall meet him head on. You, dear Gillard, must rally our people. You know my truths and desires for this world. ”

“Ser,” Gillard wiped a tear from his cheek. “Is there no way I can convince you?”

“Not this time.” Julien smiled. “Now, go before it is too late.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” Gillard whispered before descending the great stair.

Julien watched as the young, portly man take the steps one at a time, feet falling heavy every step of the way. It pained the old kinetic to have turned away such an offer, for the truth was he did fear the end. It was true he was incensed and wished to make a stand for his people; to be a lasting image in the minds of kinetic and non-kinetic alike. But that did not alleviate his fear of the unknown. The heavy doors of the college swung open as Gillard departed the hall. Once again, Julien DiMarco was truly alone.

The old kinetic wondered what he would do to pass the time. He thought a visit to the library would be nice, to read once more from the great scholar’s compendium of Wynne. Being alone in the college meant the larders were free to him, yet the idea of eating didn’t feel quite right. The only thing that seemed to truly appeal to the pyrokinetic was a visit to the snow covered gardens. But, even that did not seem to truly appease him, for if the Order made their move while he was caught out of doors, his kinetic abilities would be all but useless. So, Julien DiMarco did what he always did, walk the vast corridors of the college.

As his cane
tap-tap-tapped
down the stone hallways, leading him past mechanical construct after mechanical construct. Julien wondered if he should formulate a plan to increase his odds.

“Of course you should, ser.” Rosemary’s voice said.
Julien looked around himself again, not finding the woman he could have loved.

“Rosemary.” Julien whispered, a deep sadness filling his heart. “What can I do?”

“Anything.” Her voice said as her apparition formed out of a nearby statue. “Anything other than waiting to die.”

“But what?” He begged.

“You will know.” A soft smile played her gentle lips. “You always do.”

“Rosemary,” A warm trickle of a tear rolled down Julien’s cheek as the woman’s specter faded back into obscurity. Julien adjusted his lenses, and looked at a nearby golem.

“You,” he tapped his cane on the stone floor to get the things attention. The machine whirred to life, turning its faceless head in Julien’s direction.

“What can this one do for ser?” It asked with a gentle voice.

“Rally your comrades to the grand gallery.” Julien ordered. “And make it quick. There will be battle tonight, and we do not have much time.”

The golem did not reply, it simply sprang to action. Julien watched with the faintest hints of a smile as the beast fled down the corridor, collecting its mechanical comrades as it went. Julien turned on his heel and began the return journey to the grand gallery.

What was most surprising to Julien was seeing almost all of the constructs already assembled by the time he made his way back into the gallery at the top of the stair. They were magnificent constructs, albeit antique by today’s standard.

Before Julien could address the assembled security forces, a loud bang echoed from without. The sound of battle echoed in outside as the few patrolling constructs engaged an unseen foe. The walls of the college shook as a blast from a canon hit one of the towers. Another blast caused the towering window to crack in several places.

“Be ready!” Julien ordered. The old kinetic turned on his cane to face the wide pane of glass at the head of the stair. Below in the gallery, the machines whirred into motion.

Without much warning, the glass burst open and a stream of black clad men swung into the college on thick ropes. Julien spun to action, sending small, quick balls of fire into each of the intruders, the force of the blasts sending many of the men toppling back out into the night.

“Aha!” He laughed as the men screamed as they fell away. The sound of battle rang up through the gallery, and Julien allowed himself a moment to check on his machines.

Julien’s stomach clenched tight as he beheld the scene below. Unlike the men he had blasted with fire, his legion of golems were facing off against a foe far more superior than anything Julien ever witnessed. Pouring through the corridors and front doors of the college was what seemed an endless stream of corpses, all in varying states of decay. There was vibrancy in the cadavers’ step, one Julien had never known in any living human being, kinetic or otherwise, and the beasts would not stay down.

One of Julien’s golems threw one of the dead men across the gallery, smashing its body against stonewall. The man stayed down for no longer than a second before rising again to rush back into the fray. Another of the constructs tore a cadaver in half, but the upper portion continued fighting. There seemed to be nothing to stop the tide of this foe.

Julien was too distracted with the horror below that he had not seen a new wave of Imperial troops swing in through the broken window. When he finally noticed them, it was too late. They had kicked his cane out from under him and pulled his kinetic lenses off his head.

“Let me go!” He shouted.

“Shut yer mouth old man.” One of the soldiers hissed as a blast of canon fire struck the gallery’s roof. Beams of wood and chunks of shingles fell into the lower hall, crushing a handful of Julien’s machines

Another man struck Julien across the face with a backhanded blow. The pain was incredible. Blood that tasted of ash welled in Julien’s mouth as the men of the Imperial Order tied a rope tightly around Julien’s waist. One of the men gave the rope three tight tugs. As if on queue, the rope pulled tight, sucking him from the warmth of the college and out into the bitter cold of night.

Even with his eyes shut tight to prevent disorientation, Julien could tell he was being hoisted to the deck of one of the ships. Canon fire filled the night air, followed by sickening blasts as the rounds found the college.

“Why?” Julien whimpered as he swung in the night air, slowly being pulled higher.

“Because.” Rosemary’s voice was soft and sad amongst the noise of battle. “It is necessary. “

Rough hands grabbed Julien and seconds later his feet were placed firmly on the wooden deck of an airship. His pyrokinetic lenses were returned to his head. Blinking several times, Julien’s vision adjusted to the dim everflame lanterns on the ship’s deck.

“What is necessary,” A young man’s voice declared. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Julien looked over the crew of the ship. Many of them were too occupied with manning the canons to pay the old kinetic much mind. A figure crossed the deck, accompanied by two others. One was a woman, whose gait Julien knew all to well.

“Rosemary?” He asked as the Speaker of the Commons came into view. She looked worse for wear, but seeing a physical embodiment of the woman filled Julien with a sense of relief, yet confusion at the same time.

“Aye,” the young man said. “Alive and well.” He looked Rosemary up and down. The man smiled. “Alive at least. And I am Merrick.”

“What is going on here?” Julien demanded.

“You are in no place to make demands old man.” Merrick said.

“Rosemary?” Julien asked.

“You do not speak to the lady.” The man’s voice was firm. “Look with me.” Merrick crossed the remainder of the deck, coming to stand beside Julien. “Please, I insist.”

With a lingering stare to Rosemary, Julien obliged Merrick’s request.

“You see there,” Merrick pointed to the burning college of kinetics. “That is what is happening across Wynne. We are burning the sickness out of this wonderful world we live to pave the way for a future our children can be proud of; a future where the strong survive.