v.Fallen
Dexter ordered two more salvos aimed at the latest breach in the wall, rubble exploding as the cannons' shells crashed into the charging bulk of the Demons, some of the creatures still slipping through to be met with the eponymous weapons of the Swords on the ground. Commanding the Haven forces in defence against the Demons' siege – the Arcana had unanimously elected him to the role – reminded Dex of conducting an investigation. You had limited resources - evidence analysis, witness interviews, confidential informants, suspect interrogations – or in this case the skills, talents and tech of the Staves, Swords, Cups and Coins, and you had to decide where to direct them and what to give attention to, what leads to pursue that would most likely lead you to the truth. Dexter's truth today was the survival of the people of Haven. Dex had been a decent cop, along time ago, and he was doing a better-than-decent job at directing the forces at hand, but the Demons were vicious, they were mighty, and they were many. It was not so different than the fighting he had endured at Frontline, but Frontline had fallen...
Dexter pointed with his staff to the northern tower. It was an order to Callan, who was down on the ground, in the thick of the fighting, but always watching for guidance from the commander. It was, based on the patterns of attack so far, where Dexter suspected the next surge of Demons would strike. The staff was the one that Marshal had given him, the strange man they had met in the wasteland. Dexter wondered in every spare moment what had become of him and Wraith. And he still wondered why the Arcana had sanctioned his quest – they said that they would explain once (and if) Haven was safe. Dexter was used to mysteries; the lifetimes he had spent adventuring with the Dragons had forced him to make some sort of peace with unsolved cases.
And he had made peace with death. He had certainly sent enough enemies to the grave, some more deserving than others. And since contracting the Sickness he knew that his end was coming sooner rather than later, regardless of how long he could fight off Demons. The people though, the citizens of Haven, they deserved a chance at a longer life, a better life, and so he would do what he could to give it to them.
Dexter trusted that Callan would be directing the Swords to the new position at the northern tower. He broke away from the scene below him to check in with his team. The Chief Stave gave him a quick rundown of scouting reports from the western wall. The Chief Coin rattled off a list of remaining munitions. The Chief Sword offered a brief analysis of troop distribution. The Chief Cup had a message – Arcana Seventeen wanted to see Dexter.
In her chamber in the central tower, the sounds of the battle outside faint whispers, the Arcana showed Dexter a device, a relic from the founding of Haven.
“I remember that,” Dex said. He felt tense, needed to get back to the fight, but had a sense that something important was happening here. “We had found it in the ruins, thought it was maybe a piece of a Grid.”
“And the first Seventeen kept it and passed it on to each of us who filled the role after her, as a reminder that there was a world, a world of possibilities that had existed before the coming of the Demon Army. That we may one day return to.”
Dexter nodded. He realized that he had long ago stopped dreaming of better worlds, only of survival instead, and he felt a great sadness.
The Arcana continued. “Less than an hour ago, Commander Washington, the device began receiving a signal. An audio message... I wrote down what she said, as best I could.”
Dexter took the sheet of paper, read the precise handwriting.
If I am right about what this is then the Arcana should have a similar device stored somewhere, from when Haven was founded...I have been trying to send that device a signal from this one, and now this one has received a transmission, so now I think I understand how it works... If I do and this is transmitting... Dammit, it's always so complicated... Here goes: It's Wraith, I'm with Darius... And we are at the Portal, where the Demons came from... And we received a transmission here, on our device... It was strange but he figured it out, Max did...
Dexter's eyes went wide. He kept reading, had a brief flash of memory, of reading a science fiction novel when he was a teenager.
Marshal was Max... I wonder if the Arcana knew, somehow? Max deciphered the message – he said it was from Control. That he needed to meet with Control. And then he went into the Portal...
'Of course he did,' Dexter thought with a smirk.
So if you are somehow receiving this, please get this message to Dexter or Callan or the Arcana, please let them know that something is happening... please tell them to keep fighting.
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