Oath of the Survivor

Carlyle was sweating as he entered the compound, and it wasn’t a side effect of his skill.  He had joined the Liberation when he was very young, his parents having been members for years.  They hadn’t expected the cataclysm from the sky, but it had proved to be the perfect signal for them to act.  Just like the Central Authority, they had taken major casualties. 

Carlyle’s parents hadn’t made it, but he had every conviction that they would have been proud of what they’d been able to accomplish.  Gregory sought him out as soon as he could, setting him on the path to infiltrate Duilleag and build the foundation for the new Liberation headquarters.  Without his position in the camp, Carlyle knew it would have cost them dearly to take the outpost in a full-on assault.

He also knew that his victories came with black marks.  First, Garth survived.  Gregory had made it clear that he didn’t want any Central Authority sympathizers to survive among the awakened, but Garth had not only managed to survive, he drove Carlyle off.  While he’d participated in some successful raids, taking supplies and prisoners among the unawakened was hardly an accomplishment for somebody of his skill level. 

Frankly, he’d felt it a little insulting to be put on those duties in the first place.  But now, in his second encounter against Garth, he’d lost an entire squadron of soldiers.  Worse still, the soldiers had survived the ordeal and their armaments were taken.  All thanks to the stranger.  Any way he sliced it, this was a colossal failure, and he wasn’t looking forward to paying the price. 

He saw the concerned faces of the other members as he made his way to the repurposed Central Defense supply depot, their worry fading into grim understanding as they saw him entering alone.  The Liberation had grown over the last several months, their numbers bolstered by some of the survivors they’d come across, but the organization was still small. 

Fewer than fifty occupied the ruined town, so the loss of Carlyle’s raiding group was significant.  What’s worse, they were entrusted with one of the few firearms available and had lost it. 

“What are you looking at?” Carlyle snapped, causing one of the onlookers to flinch. 

“Nothing better to do than gawk at an injured man?  If I didn’t have places to be I’d show you your place, trash.  Get out of my sight.”  Carlyle’s outburst spurred the onlookers to action, quickly dispersing and leaving a path to the depot ahead of him.  That might have been a little much. He thought to himself, considering his options. 

The problem was that he was one of Valentine’s lieutenants, and officers shouldn’t have the rank and file in a position to gossip or fixate on his failure.  No, keeping up the appearance of control and favor was too important.  Dreading what came next, Carlyle walked into the conference room, where Gregory Valentine and his other awakened were already waiting.  Carlyle knew that word of his arrival would have made it here quickly, but it surprised him that two of the other three awakened had bothered to come listen to the report.  Cornelius and Tucker stood in the room chatting, the two men an absurd contrast to one another. 

Cornelius was a mountain of a man, well over two meters tall and almost as wide, with a wild mane of brown hair.  A leather strap held a monstrous battle axe across his back, and he was clearly amused at the sight of Carlyle’s spindly and burnt form slinking towards the room.  On the other side of the conference table Tucker leaned against the wall, his dark skin matching the black leather gear, all covered by a mottled cloak and hood.  His eyes could barely be seen through the shadows of the hood, but Carlyle felt his gaze and did his best to match the look without flinching. He was one of the few men who made a point to shave regularly, and had attractive masculine features. 

Any time they’d spoken, the man seemed aloof, although now Carlyle noticed the man’s hand slip to one of the revolvers he kept on his side.  He knew these men didn’t trust him – they had served in Central Defense alongside Gregory for years, while Carlyle was an unknown, only given rank due to his family ties and awakened powers.  Beyond their distrust, they looked down on him.  He knew that knew there was merit to their stance The same part told him beyond a shadow of a doubt that either of these men had the capacity to kill him. 

That important piece of context was enough to splash metaphorical cold water on his rising temper, his eyes finally moving to the most dangerous man in the room.    Gregory Valentine sat behind the large table, hands folded.  He wore light grey combat fatigues, a rapier in a scabbard on his left hip with a heavy-looking dagger sheathed on his right.  His ash-colored hair had grown unkempt, and the previously well-trimmed moustache had reached ridiculous proportions, each side hanging halfway down his neck.  His skin was like worn leather, a testament to a lifetime spent out in the elements. 

At first glance he appeared to just be an old man past his prime, but meeting his eyes, Carlyle was once again impressed by the intensity within the dark brown gaze.  This was an apex predator, a man with a powerful variant class and decades of combat in which he honed it.  Carlyle knew that he had to be pushing level fifty, maybe even beyond.  Then and again, what else would you expect from the former third-in-command of Central Defense?

“This is turning into a familiar sight Carlyle.” Cornelius boomed, a grin spreading across his face.  He brought the tree trunk he called an arm down around Carlyle’s shoulders, causing the smaller man to stagger under the unexpected weight. 

“Maybe it’s time to put you on cooking duty. It’ll probably push your mana a bit but at least you’d be able to do something useful.”  Carlyle returned the man’s grin with a sneer, but before he could make a remark a cold voice from behind the desk pierced the room. 

“Enough Cornelius.  Either take a seat or get out of the room.  Carlyle, report.”  Valentine’s voice was calm, but the tone of absolute authority sent chills through both men, Cornelius extricating the smaller man from his arm and heading back to the chair he’d been sitting in before. 

Carlyle took a breath.

“We had tracked a group from Albaum, and had finally caught them about a day’s travel from Nierburg.  We were in the process of taking them captive when Boltsbury showed up with another awakened.  The stranger fought with our men while Boltsbury targeted me.  While we fought, I saw the stranger get shot twice and thought they had it handled. By the time I’d circled back he’d somehow beaten them.  Rather than let our men get taken I tried to tie off the loose ends, but the stranger also had some sort of boosting skill and was able to intercept my attack.  I made the call that you should be informed rather than risk capture or death, so I returned.” 

Silence fell over the room for what felt like an eternity, Carlyle fully expecting Valentine to give the order to have him punished.   Instead, the old man simply nodded. 

“Could have gone much worse.  Garth was always persistent.  Shame he’s been such a loyal dog for the Central Authority.  We have agents in Nierburg, they’ll make sure the men don’t share anything.” 

A thoughtful expression crossed his face, and it seemed he came to some sort of decision. 

“You mentioned this stranger took a bullet and kept fighting, as well as activated an agility boosting skill of some potency.  The list of people who can do that is pretty short, and I know most of them.  How fast was he?” 

“At least as fast as I am with OVERHEAT at maximum output, if not faster.”  Suddenly the old man blurred out from behind the desk and Carlyle felt cold steel pressed against his neck. 

“Was he faster than that?”  Valentine asked, a predatory smile on his lips.  Careful not to move too quickly, Carlyle slowly shook his head. 

The knife left Carlyle’s neck and made it back to the sheath.  The old man made his way back to the desk at normal speed. 

“That’s all.  You’re dismissed, I’ll send orders soon.”   Carlyle nodded and walked out of the room, feeling the stares from Cornelius and Tucker boring into his back.  They’ll get theirs. Carlyle thought, then felt another shudder go through him.  It’s not every day a monster like Valentine shows his abilities, and speed like that was absolutely insane.  For all the threat that Garth and this stranger were to him, they couldn’t hold a candle to the old monster leading Liberation. 

~~~

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