Chapter 319 - Brass Shell

In the circular section of the walled garden Char Char was stunned for a moment as she and the red fox met gazes.

The fox sat on its haunches on the side of the path at the entrance to the section. It was a beautiful creature, with triangle ears, a luxurious red coat with a white breast, black fur ‘booties’ and a black tipped tail.

It was so docile and good natured that Char Char was at a loss for how to handle its presence. Was it an enemy? Or perhaps even an Exalted in disguise? Did it have a message for her or something like out of a fairy tale?

Such thoughts might have seemed naive and childish only a few months ago, but Char Char’s experience with the supernatural gave those thoughts a practical basis.

But its eyes aren’t dead like the servants, and I don’t sense any danger from my spiritual intuition… Char Char frowned. She was prepared for the fox to do something like open its mouth and speak. But it seemed to lose interest in her and started grooming itself lazily.

This completely natural, non-mechanical behaviour put Char Char somewhat at ease. She even doubted whether it was influenced by Exalted means— surely if the fox were being controlled in such a way it would be more direct or humanlike in its purposes?

Perhaps this garden has wildlife? Maybe this fox is even domesticated… Char Char wondered. After all, there were birds in the trees and tortoises and koi in the ponds. There were plenty of forested areas on the hill.

The red fox stopped grooming itself and began walking along the path. Curiously it followed the winding circular spiral around the area, though it stayed on the grass. Char Char was mesmerized by the strange behaviour of the creature, unsure of what to make of it.

As the fox approached her place on the path she stepped away onto the grass on the opposite side, giving it a wide berth. Her hand subconsciously rested on the hilt of her sword, though her spiritual intuition remained calm.

As the fox reached the end of the path it started to examine the base of the statue, particularly where Char Char had pushed away the clay planter. From its body language it seemed to be somewhat upset by the change in the garden.

After a few moments it left the planter and walked up to the statue itself where it began to whimper and paw at the door that Char Char had found.

Char Char felt her heartstrings pulled by the cute animal.

“It wants to go inside…?” She wondered.

Her imagination concocted a story about a fox that lived in a garden that was influenced by spiritual means. The balance of the garden was disrupted by things that were happening in the garden. A visitor arrives that could save the day, and it guides her to—

Char Char bit her lip, frowning as she clenched her hands, berating herself inwardly. She knew such thoughts were silly. But if the supernatural were real then stories like these that she’d heard in the past were real too, weren’t they?

Inner turmoil struck her deeply as the echoes of Corbin’s lecturing voice telling her to take things seriously drowned out the fantasy of the moment. She felt like a heavy black rock was sinking in her stomach, seeding her body with self-doubt.

A sudden click from within the statue shook her out of the thoughts as a mechanism within the statue began to turn. The grinding of stone against stone filled the peaceful air as the door swung inward, revealing a staircase leading underground.

The fox didn’t wait for Char Char, slipping into the door as soon as it had opened wide enough for its small body to enter.

Imagination tempered by trepidation, curiousity versus doubt. Char Char trembled a bit as the two different voices in her fought one another.

She didn’t hesitate long.

“Ah, stuff it!” She muttered agitatedly.

A moment later she slipped into the underground, following the footsteps of the red fox.

~

Somewhere in the darkness Firuzeh opened her eyes.

She had been unconscious, but she quickly regained her senses. She was hanging from a chain. Brass manacles cut into her wrists. The smell of earth and moisture told her she was underground. Candles flickered around her, arranged intentionally with the precision of a carefully executed ritual. The stone floor was inscribed with runes, though in the dim light she couldn’t make out the lines to draw more information.

She knew that her awareness was being amplified by Rados, the angel that lived within her. Physical and mental sharpness were some of the boons that he could grant her, even in his limited, weakened state.

She remembered the moments up to her capture clearly. After being unable to reach Char Char’s room she had fled the dangerous presence inside the complex. It chased her methodically as she found herself increasingly restricted by invisible walls. Eventually the only place she could run was a small room in the corner of the building. Knowing that she was being trapped she shoved open the sliding door to the room to find…

Her thoughts turned chaotic as she couldn’t recall the exact thing that she had seen. She had been disabled by the terrible sight in that room that corrupted her the moment she laid eyes on it.

It was a construct of some sort. Metallic, perhaps a sculpture or artifact, with dozens of vaguely human shapes like limbs and hands that jutted out at odd angles and positions. A corrupted miasma pervaded the room, its source the ticking, mechanical heart of the construct buried within a metal ‘ribcage’.

The room began to spin around Firuzeh as her thoughts grew clouded. Even the memory of the event wrenched at her spirit, threatening to tear her apart.

Clear your thoughts. Rados said from within her. His dry voice was strained and filled with urgency. Focus on the present.

Firuzeh obeyed, inhaling and focusing on her breath in a practiced meditative technique. Her mind cleared and her spirit calmed down once more. The corruptive force dissipated quickly with Rados’ assistance.

Good. Break out of your bonds, we must leave—

Rados suddenly cut his thoughts off. His presence disappeared from her awareness as he went into hiding. The wooden door behind Firuzeh scraped open, the footsteps of a lone individual entered the room. Firuzeh faced the back of the room away from the door. Due to the way she was suspended she couldn’t turn around to see who had entered.

Firuzeh remained motionless, hoping that the individual thought that she was still unconscious. She sent a trickle of her powers into her hands, prying at the brass manacles with her Exalted powers. As a Saboteur such an act was normally effortless, however on her first attempt they remained unaffected by her powers.

Her ears perked up as the individual paced behind her, murmuring quietly under their breath. From the voice it was an older woman. She couldn’t make out his voice but it quickly became apparent that she wasn’t speaking to her. The calm inflection and steady tone of her voice suggested that she hadn’t noticed Firuzeh’s attempts at her releasing her bonds. Firuzeh tried once more to break her bonds with slightly more power and failed once more.

Firuzeh’s spiritual intuition triggered as she felt the energies in the room stir from the woman’s words. She was clearly enacting the ritual, with Firuzeh at the center of it!

Firuzeh had no intention of being the focus of a ritual. If she were able to step out of the ritual circle that should be enough to disrupt it, after which she’d have to deal with the woman. With luck she’d be able to take her by surprise, then make an escape.

The woman continued her prayers as she stepped up behind Firuzeh, entering the circle. At this moment Firuzeh decisively activated her Saboteur powers, channeling them into the bindings, her body tensing up to land and strike at her captor.

Nothing.

The manacles obstructed her powers, like a lock that was hardened against a thieves’ picks. The lack of results shocked Firuzeh, but she didn’t have time to make another attempt.

Pain erupted from her side as a blade was stabbed into her back. She let out a gasp, her body jerking violently, chains clinking as she kicked out at the air. A terrible heat burned through her body, her blood gushing out of the wound onto the stone below her.

She cried out in pain as her captor walked around her, slicing a line across her abdomen. She finally moved enough to see the face of the Reza’s elderly Head of Staff. The flickering candles cast deep shadows on the matronly woman’s wrinkled face. The whites of her eyes were a deep black that absorbed all light.

In her blood-slicked right hand she gripped the the dagger as she continued to draw blood out of Firuzeh’s body.

In her left hand was a disc shaped device with a polished brash shell. The upper face of the shell was open, revealing a complex contraption composed of dozens of whirring gears and dials inset with clock hands and polished gems.

It ticked like a clock, but in a disjointed rhythm like a heartbeat.

A ghostly blue light blossomed from the runes on the floor as Firuzeh’s blood saturated the grooves. Several gems in the device began to glow in various hues.

Firuzeh’s cries echoed through the halls as the ritual came to its completion!