Aldruin, Chapter II: Councilor
Aldruin
Chapter II: Councilor
By Kimono-Box-Fox
Gil stirred from a nightmare of loping man-beasts, copious pools of blood, and the chants of the dark, druidic sect that had taken her lover away. The same sect she had nearly been taken by herself. This time, however, she awoke not in the cold streets of Old Alda-Mira, but on a soft, warm bed.
It's lucky that I'm even awake anywhere, she reflected. She tried to get up, but a pain in her side, coupled with the sudden creaky opening of a door, kept her lying in bed. She feigned sleep so she could overhear what was being said by the parties in question; knowing not into whose hands she had been delivered from her plight. Finally, a voice broke the silence with a sigh.
"She's been through a lot. I insisted she try not to get separated from Gavin and Lera in the chaos of the raid, but I never expected she'd kill two lycanthropes single-handedly and survive a surprise attack from a third without any reinforcements. She's more than lucky, Gil..."
A familiar man's voice... It was distant, low in tone and volume, as if always contemplating things elsewhere, but considering your feelings, at the same time.
It's Captain Van! And he's talking with someone from the Council. Oh thank God, I'm back at Headquarters, Gil thought. Her relief was palpable, although it did little to stem the pain of her injuries. She lay still, and listened in, without letting either of the two know she was conscious. It was not her Captain she was wary of, but the other.
"Still, it seems the raid has had its cost, Captain. And not just for your officers. We still don't know anything further about how the cultists are sneaking lycanthropes into the city under our quarantine, or to what end; our interrogations of the ones your men caught have proved fruitless thus far-many of them seem to have been acting under the effect of Mental Domination. We still haven't seen or heard word from Officer Addison from Baram's squad, in over twelve hours, either, and have had no visual reports of enforcers on the street encountering this supposed 'Cult Organizer' that we were tipped off about. I had assumed our cordon would have caught any stragglers from the warehouse. Has Officer... 'Bones' spoken of this?"
The voice seemed to wince at the Komali officer's assumed surname, as if it was an embarrassment to mention. It was chiding; proper, and yet a whole different form of condescension from the nobility. It was the kind of voice that seemed to be taking you apart piece by piece with every syllable. An Elf-_she thought. _It's Councilor Dalnassir come to discuss my... future. Her lip curled into an unseen sneer.
Gil was not fond of elves, and this enmity extended even deeper still toward the Elves of the Artificer's Council. Their presence always made you feel like you were being evaluated for your usefulness to them, like an object, instead of a person. They were the Old People-who lived long before humans came to be on Aldruin; and they had much wisdom to impart. But while King Reinsus of Altia took council from them, and she and Van were subservient to the Council's and King's will; the wisdom of the elves was not something Gil herself readily welcomed. It was great; this was true. But it was also terrible to Gil, in a way that was difficult for most others to appreciate. The Elves, despite their intellects, and eagerness to provide their gifts and insights, had a sort of cold impersonal nature that Gil above all detested. Too much time spent around magic, too much time contemplating abstract notions like balance and destiny and nature, instead of helping people, had left their spirits barren, somehow... more hollow in a way only Gil could see; and Gil could feel it now in a way she had never even been able to before. It was as if there was a snarling beast inside her heart, raising its hackles, ready to strike back at something not of this world. It was the opposite of what she felt when she faced lycanthropes-whose human souls were still in them, tremulous and afraid. There was never fear in an elf's voice--Only cold, analytical inquiry. And Gil could not trust something incapable of fear, no matter how it talked of cultivating balance, or greater understanding.
Van interrupted Gil's thoughts. "No, Councilor Dalnassir, I'm about to see Gavin along with Lera for debriefing... once Gil is recovered. Well, as recovered as she can be, now." He said the word 'now' with such a tone of regret, and Gil suddenly remembered the events that had transpired only hours back, out on the streets.
That's right... She reached to her side, grazing the bandages that covered her bitten flank with her fingers. I'm turning into a lycanthrope inside. My days in the Watch Order are over, and I'll be lucky if they give me a swift death with some kind of spell before I'm carted off for study. This time, however, the Councilor interjected.
"She may be infected, Captain Baldwin, but Officer Alastor has proven a valuable asset to us in the past, and although this situation is unfortunate... she is not beyond redemption, or value to our cause."
"Surely you can't mean our temple's priests have found a means to cure this new lycanthropy curse?" Captain Baldwin said rhetorically. Gil had a feeling she wouldn't like what was coming next.
"Unfortunately, no, Captain-though I wish it were so. Nor have our mages found any method for ascertaining 'why' it is not possible. It is the strangest thing. It should be simple... the method that should work simply... 'does not work'. We have not found an alternative to the traditional 'cures'. But there is another way for a victim such as her."
"You say it so impersonally, Dalnassir. What would you have for my subordinate, then? You do not intend for her to die as so many other victims have at the hands of your mages?" It sounded like a question, but the Captain thrust it like a blade, as if he thought of Dalnassir as something worse than a murderer. The councilor, however, took no notice of the gesture, nor did he remark on the Captain's sudden failure to address him by his proper position-or at least he refused to recognize it.
"I have nothing but praise for the efforts of Officer Alastor, especially taking her past into consideration. Truthfully, she has every right to be able to continue in her investigations, and I feel compelled to help. But you know as I that this plague must be stemmed. Those who have undergone the transformation cannot be easily restrained, and we cannot allow our prisons to overflow with savage infected. Having restated that fact, I do believe, however, that there is a way we can salvage this situation, and prevent such an unfortunate course of events from becoming necessary for your lieutenant."
The elf at this point paused, and Gil could hear him pulling over a seat to sit. She could hear her Captain then follow suit. He breathed in audibly, and then resumed speaking.
"Our Council has for some time required an experimental test subject-" but at the word "experimental", there was a loud clattering noise as of a table being pushed aside and papers falling off, and Gil opened one eye to see the Captain promptly get up from his chair and interject.
"Experiment, Dalnassir. Please. Explain." This he spoke tersely and in monotone, almost as an order-it surely would have been, if he had been able to give one. Gil knew this mood well enough; she had seen it only so very many times in the past after missions like these, including that time-Dalnassir was the Councilor who had been assigned to spearhead investigations into the lycanthropy epidemic and its mystery cult, just prior to Nicholas's demise, and Van had become his direct subordinate. That had been over a year and a half ago, and Van had been required to attend many of these private debriefings since.
It was not that the two men did not see eye to eye. It was not that they held some tacit disagreement on ethical procedure. That would be a fine thing on its own. It was that, if given half the chance, and the authority from the King, Captain Van Hughes Baldwin would have long since ripped Councilor Dalnassir's head off and spit down his spineless snake neck. Gil had long suspected the Councilor to be leading the battalion on a wild goose-chase for his own intellectual benefit, and for the rest of them, their untimely deaths, and doubted her Captain thought any less than the same.
The elf took another deep breath, and resumed his explanation. "It is a live test for a new form of artifact; one that will only function for those just-infected, to grant them control over the body; both in and out of its changed state. However, our efforts in employing it... 'topically' have proven fruitless, and quite lethal, on ordinary patients. Recent discoveries have lead us to believe that the use of an infected; but not already transformed participant, should succeed, provided they are equipped with an Eldritch Array to handle artifacts-"
At this statement, the Elf tugged at the hem of his shirt and revealed a glimpse of an array tattoo like the kind that Gil and the rest of the Artifact-Wielder Battalion wore, although she could just make it out for a second.
"-if your lieutenant is found capable of assuming her duties once this experiment is complete, we will return her to your charge. The Council may even have special duties for her that only her newfound capabilities will allow her to take on for our Kingdom. Is that understood?"
"You will confiscate my lieutenant, and she will be subjected to this experiment. I will receive a full report on the success or failure of this experiment, at which point she will be returned to my jurisdiction, Sir." Van replied.
"She will 'volunteer' to this potentially life-saving 'treatment', and be taken regularly for observational studies when she is not in the line of duty, should it succeed, Captain. I need not remind you that the alternative is for her to be submitted to our necropsy department... dead and in pieces."
The elf spit this at him in an incredulous tone, apparently expecting to elicit a reaction from the Captain that he could capitalize upon. There was a pause of tense silence. The Captain said nothing, but Dalnassir had clearly expected some kind of outburst or reaction. When it did not come, the Elf concluded curtly:
"I will give you twenty-four hours to debrief your subordinates, and insure that they are informed of what is to take place. You are dismissed."
The Councilor walked out, slowly, courteously, and without a sound as the door shut, seemingly cured of its creakiness by his oil-slick demeanor. When it had been some time, and she could no longer hear the sound of his footsteps tap-tap-tap, waltzing on the tile hall outside the medical ward, she let out a deep breath and screamed in rage--as loud as her injured chest would let her.
_God damnit! Dalnassir, you calculated son of a bitch!! We're all just pawns in your "experiment", aren't we?! You probably even wanted the entire force to get infected too, so you'd have test subjects who wouldn't dare refuse what you have in mind for them! "Cult Organizer" my ass! I wouldn't be surprised if those were YOUR werewolves we were sent after! _
Gil knew the Captain had to have been livid himself by this point, but he knew well enough not to show it in front of a superior with more than a slight slip of title. Gil was only glad she was too wounded to get up, let alone get out of bed, because she was not prone to such divine bouts of self-restraint, and would have wrung the elf's scrawny throat, regardless of how dead she'd end up for it. She suddenly knew who her first victim would be if she ever had the chance to have to become a lycanthrope. Dalnassir had put this plan together long beforehand, and wasn't just offering some form of salvation out of 'kindness'. Gil, or at least one of the members of the task-force sent to confront the cult organizer, had been expected to get infected, and it was exactly what the Councilor wanted. He probably even regretted that Gil had been the only victim in the Battalion thus far!
"Having trouble sleeping, Alastor?" The Captain interrupted.
"Just nightmares, Captain," Gil lied.
"You can stop pretending you were asleep that entire time, you idiot. I know you were eavesdropping on the whole thing. And you don't have to call me Captain when it's just the two of us. You know that."
She had always had a very... different sort of relationship with Van, since Nicholas died. They weren't lovers by any stretch of the imagination-for that sort of relationship was frowned upon in the Altian forces, but Gil always felt she could go to Van, if something like this ever happened.
They call them confidants, and they always seem to be able to ease the pain that love brings with it, she thought. Believe it or not, Van, I couldn't have pulled myself out of that alley without you to greet me when I got up. She sat up, although it was painful. She did not cry out, however, but spoke.
"What's happening to this Kingdom, Van? It used to be full of good people. Now all I see are monsters, and weak men that want to study them."
"You needn't be so vague, Gil. I don't like him anymore than you do. But we don't really know what it is we're dealing with, ever since Lieutenant Briggs..."
Gil looked down into her lap.
"Since he died, Captain. Since we investigated that cult over a year ago, since Nicholas turned into one of them, and I... I killed him... the attacks have been getting more and more frequent on citizens, and half of them don't even leave corpses. They're taking them. Taking our people and turning them into animals. Soon this entire city will be nothing but a blood-soaked zoo, and people like Dalnassir are going to be its zookeepers. We haven't even found out what the cultists really want, or who their figurehead is."
"No, but I have an idea about that. I'm going to send you on a mission, when you get back, Gil. A special one where Dalnassir won't be able to toy with you as long as you're on it. And you will get back. Don't worry; you have never failed me before, and you're not about to break your record because you got bit up some."
Gil smiled at this. It was true; she was his most reliable lieutenant since Nicholas had passed on-although her escapades of late had made her doubt herself greatly. Truth was, something wasn't right in the Watch anymore; but she still had a home to protect. The Captain always had her back, and there was Gavin, and Lera. The Night had shaken her, but had not taken these things from her-could not take them from her. She would not allow it.
"Will you be okay, having a were-animal in your squad, Captain?" she asked shyly.
"You set enough precedents as it is surviving things half my other men would have met their death by long ago. You may be unorthodox, but I have complete faith in you, no matter what you become. Just come back you, alright, Gil?"
She saluted-her confidence restored for the first time in what seemed like days.
"Yes sir!"
End of Chapter II