Chapter 25
Once the survey teams and their escorts arrived, the Sorcerer King and his entourage boarded the knarr and they went on their way. After Ludmila made her periodic report to the Grand Marshal, she stared down at the strange coin that His Majesty had permitted her to keep, pondering its significance.
It was a coin from a nation unknown to her as a forr subject of Re-Estize, despite the notion that Re-Estize was supposedly located within its forr borders. Even with her aristocratic education – which lent great weight to culture, history and language – she was just as ignorant of it as she was of the civilization that once occupied the Katze Plains.
The histories of the Theocracy, whose records traced back all the way to the original advent of the Six Great Gods, made no specific ntion of any Human nations to its north. All she knew was that Humans were once more widespread in the past, and they were driven to near-extinction: cornered in a portion of the land where the Theocracy now stood.
With this being the case, the nation to which this coin belonged was ancient indeed. The only pieces of present-day knowledge that seed like a tie to this ancient Human history were the various claims made on the Katze Plains and its surrounding regions by every country along its borders. Perhaps they were not lying or twisting the facts at all: it was possible that all of the Human nations of the region were descended, in part or in whole, from the ancient Human population that fell before the onslaught of their inhuman neighbours. Once the Great Seeding was underway, these descendants spread to reclaim their lost lands, all sharing the sa ancestral claims.
Hopefully, a decisive answer could be found in Lagaš, the capital of the ruined Katze Plains. If not, she would have to extend her efforts to the Dwarf Kingdom and any other leads that she ca across.
The first sign that they were approaching the city was not any ruins or a tower, but a drastic increase in the concentration of negative energy. Ludmila narrowed her eyes at the sensation: it was not just a massive amount of death, but most likely the sort that was unexpected and unwanted – the mass slaughter of innocents caught up in an unrembered tempest of anguish and grief.
Levelled ruins characteristic of the region appeared along the nearby eastern shore. After about a kilotre travelling further downriver, a tower appeared out of the mists, looming over the water. It was not as large as its counterpart in the previous city, but neither was it the only one. Two more towers ca into view, both eerily truncated at exactly the sa height as every other tower in the plains. Her eyes traced the ruined skyline, then widened as she noticed what lay ahead.
『Hard to starboard!』
The ship listed heavily as the captain imdiately responded to her urgent order. The Vampire Brides moved to secure the furniture in the hold. Lady Shalltear leaned against the throne to keep it from sliding off of the deck. Her angry voice rolled over the bow.
“What was that!”
There was no need to answer Lady Shalltear’s shout. Shattered remains of a toppled tower ca into view. The Sorcerer King rose to his feet after the ship righted itself again. His Majesty ca forward to where Ludmila stood agape at the sight.
“Now I’m really curious,” the Sorcerer King said. “This building is at least twice as tall as the palace spires in Arwintar. More to the point, it’s wider than the Imperial Palace.”
They continued to glide along the side of the fallen structure, following its length as it gradually disappeared into the river. The slow, roiling anger from before rose within Ludmila again, and a tear trickled down her right cheek.
“I can’t take this, Your Majesty,” she said through gritted teeth. “Why would anyone do this? Even Demihumans would understand the significance of such architectural achievents, would they not?”
“I believe that anyone possessed of intelligence should,” His Majesty replied. “Demihuman, Heteromorph or otherwise. You are an upright and earnest individual, Lady Zahradnik, so you may not understand that the appreciation of monuntal undertakings does not invariably lead to awe and respect. It may just as easily lead to envy, fear and spite.”
“Surely, such actions are unforgivable…”
“Indeed,” the Sorcerer King’s voice grew grim. “If anyone threatened ruin upon what I consider an important legacy, I would grant them no quarter. Nothing of their existence would remain…well, maybe so small reminder of their folly.”
Ludmila’s astonishnt and ensuing anger persisted as they rounded the subrged top of the tower. She couldn’t imagine the ti, effort or artifice required to raise such a grand structure. That it was one amongst many further drove ho how prosperous and advanced the region once was. The political and economic shockwaves its downfall must have sent throughout the region must have been ruinous in themselves.
Ten minutes later, the Ruin’s Wake ca into view, ‘anchored’ just offshore of a massive harbour gate. Within, they found a single berth that appeared to have been recently cleaned up. Captain Iškur flew over, hovering alongside her vessel.
“Welco to Lagaš, Your Majesty,” he said. “We’ve cleared a berth – well, it’s where the Ruin’s Wake usually moors herself, but it’s the best we could do on such short notice. Not that I hold that against you, Your Maj–”
“I understand, Captain Iškur,” the Sorcerer King answered with a regal nod of his head. “Thank you for your warm welco.”
“I would like to borrow Baroness Zahradnik if Your Majesty does not mind. I have a number of colleagues in the city, and they’re more, erm, normal as far as Elder Liches go. They’re going to require so preparation, lest they suffer Lady Shalltear’s wrath.”
“Very well,” His Majesty said. “We’ll be taking a look around in the anti.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the Elder Lich bobbed his bestial skull. “As our sovereign, you may go wherever you wish.”
Ludmila followed Captain Iškur out of the harbour district. Unlike the other cities, the streets they walked through were lined with mostly intact buildings. Spectral Undead could occasionally be seen drifting by, but the mindless Undead along their path appeared to have been cleared away in preparation for His Majesty’s impending arrival. Like the other cities, however, everything was caked with the dust of ages.
“Why is the condition of Lagaš so different?” She asked, “Everything was levelled on our way here.”
“It seems that soone did try, my lady,” the Elder Lich answered. “There are sections of the city that were reduced to rubble – the outskirts and the southwestern quarter are totally destroyed – and the city’s been put to the torch. Whoever it was couldn’t finish the job, though: the towers and buildings in the city centre are magically reinforced and the invaders simply ran out of ti.”
“Ran out of ti?”
“I don’t think they understood the full implications of forcefully depopulating a city of this size.”
aning to say that the sheer amount of violent death suddenly piled up in one location led to an explosion of negative energy. If her thus-far accurate estimates for the region’s population centres held, half a million people once lived here. There was no ti to take care of the aftermath and probably no interest in purifying the city. By the looks of the wind-blown pavent, nature was also heavily suppressed, so there was nothing to counteract the cascade of Undeath that manifested in the wake of the city’s downfall.
“Have you any idea who did this?”
“No, only their trail of devastation was left behind. As far as I can tell, it started from the south. There’s a whole fleet of sunken warships north of the river delta, so whoever lived here had ti to prepare for what ca. After that, well, everything downriver was flattened like you saw up north.”
She continued following the Elder Lich through the city’s half-buried thoroughfares, eventually reaching a grand pronade leading up to a magnificent do. At the top of the slowly ascending path, she stopped at the sight awaiting her.
This can’t be right.
Proudly looking over the approach was a six-tre tall statue. Ludmila blinked slowly as she registered its features.
“Captain Iškur,” she said. “Did you raise a statue of yourself here?”
“That’s a good joke, my lady,” he chuckled, “but I’m just an Elder Lich, not a…a…whatever you call people that work with stone. It’s got fur and flesh and a nice set of equipnt, too.”
The statue that stood before her was that of a felid Beastman. One arm was held behind its back, while the clawed hand of its other arm was raised in a powerful, triumphant gesture. Rather than savage and fearso, the figure looked resolute and regal.
She walked up to the base of the statue, attempting to make out the unmarred words carved into the pillar at the base.
“Duke…”
“Iškur.”
Ludmila looked up at the Elder Lich.
“I thought you couldn’t read this script.”
“That’s who he is,” the captain shrugged. “I was born right here, at the base of this statue. Sothing told that’s who I am, and that’s who he was. Since I appear to have manifested as an echo of this individual, he must have been a great figure indeed.”
She looked back at the wording on the pillar. So of the words and letters were familiar, but many were not. A few were quite clear.
“Duke Iškur, Pentarch of…”
“Lagaš.”
“…Lagaš. Sothing Tiger of the Reach. Second day, Upper Wind Month, 135th year…High Imperial Calendar.”
Beastman royalty…in a Human Empire?
“For soone that isn’t from around here,” the captain said lightly, “your grasp of the local language is surprisingly good.”
“There is so guesswork involved,” she replied absently. “The script here has many letters and symbols that are common to the region, but a few are entirely foreign to – probably ones borrowed from nonhuman languages. These numbers are the sa as those that we use…the words…”
Ludmila frowned as she realised what the nation that the words were common to was.
“These words are similar to those being used in the Baharuth Empire,” she said. “In particular, the ones they’ve been slowly tossing out Re-Estize ones for. I could never figure out the why and how of it, but…”
It appeared that soone in the Empire had records of the lost language. Was it a move to legitimise their claim over the region, or an attempt to reclaim the past? She supposed it could be both at the sa ti.
“What does the rest say?”
“It’s a list with dates. Battles. I think the parts that I can’t read are the nas of locations used in the past, as well as achievents. This Beastman Duke was probably a great General of the empire that once stood here. Are there any other statues like this?”
“At the top of each pronade leading to this building.”
Captain Iškur led her around to the next statue. It did not depict a Beastman, but neither did it appear to be Human. A feminine figure with flowing robes and childlike features seed to rge with the waves of water carved into the stone. In her hands was a simple, yet elegant, lyre.
“Duchess Víla, Pentarch of Lagaš. Eternal Mistress of Crystalline Waters. Twentieth day, Middle Water Month, 4th year, High Imperial Calendar.”
“I always wondered why she was there,” the captain said. “She looked like a kid, but I guess she might have really been a granny. So sort of Heteromorph?”
“A Nereid, I think. The Víla are a legend amongst my people, but I never thought our na for them might refer to an individual from the distant past.”
Unfamiliar script flowed below. From the way it appeared to be structured, Ludmila thought that it might have been a poem.
They continued their circuit of the building. The next statue was an Elf Pentarch cradling an orb of fire in her hands, followed by a Pentarch of an insectoid race she had not seen before. She could read neither of their nas. A rugged-looking Human ca next, dressed as a warrior with a glaive-like weapon in hand.
“Duke Jelen Inyel Manev Erex Doubek, Pentarch of Lagaš. Stormbringer. Twentieth day, Middle Water Month, 4th year. High Imperial Calendar.”
Below was a list like the one under Duke Iškur’s. He appeared to be a militant mber of Human royalty.
“What’s the smile for?” Captain Iškur asked.
“I’m smiling?” Ludmila frowned.
“Er…just a bit, maybe?”
“I suppose I’m slightly bemused,” she said. “Doubek is my mother’s maiden na, but she said that it’s a fairly common last na amongst my people. He has a common first na, too. Despite the common na, it seems that one of us made it pretty far.”
A glow in the fog grew brighter as they approached what appeared to be the main entrance to the building. The statue of another Human stood atop its pedestal, adorned in plain, but clean robes. The staff in his right hand was topped with a brightly-glowing crystal. A large to was cradled in his left. His sowhat humble appearance was made no taller than the rest, yet at the sa ti, sothing caused him to tower above them all.
Ludmila walked up to the placard at the statue’s base, eyes tracing over the letters in the stone.
“High Emperor Archeleos III. Lower Earth Month, 59th year. High Imperial Calendar.”
He had no epithet and there was nothing below the placard. The man appeared as unassuming as his garb, yet nothing could hide the sheer sense of presence exuded by the statue. She wondered if it was rely the exquisite quality of the stonework, or if the stonework reflected his existence in the flesh.
“This one was the boss, huh,” Captain Iškur said from beside her. “I told the others that he was, but they kept going on about how the others had a more impressive panoply and additional notes below their placards.”
Preoccupied with her examination of the statues, the fact that she was supposed to be eting with the Elder Lich’s colleagues had slipped her mind.
“I suppose we should go see them now,” she said. “How many of your colleagues reside here, by the way?”
“It’s just the six of us, my lady.”
“Don’t tell you each manifested under one of these statues…”
“Hah! That would be quite sothing, but no – I’m the only one. The rest were born in the towers around here.”
“Then is there anything I should know about them before we head in?”
“Hmm…not that I can think of. We’re just a humble little cabal that you could probably find anywhere.”
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