“Just another privilege of volunteering to die young,” I joked.
“Hey knock off the gloomy shit.” Talissa faced me. “It’s not working for you.”
I pulled in a steadying breath. “Sorry, just nervous,” I said.
Rosa patted my shoulder. “Who isn’t?” Talissa begrudgingly nodded.
To my surprise, Veridiana joined the group of volunteers, elbowing me to the side as she retrieved a dagger as well.
“Not as scared as the civilians will be if the Sanguirs break through,” Talissa muttered.
“I’m not afraid of some mist worms,” Veridiana disagreed.
I stepped out of the way so more people could reach the barrel.
“This is just an early taste of the action we’ll get to see as Voyagers,” Talissa said. “And practicing against what we’ll actually be facing out there is a plus, not a minus.”
Two others I didn’t know, and Georlan joined us.
“This is the best part of being a Voyager,” Georlan selected his weapon quickly, smiling at us. “Facing down fiends, saving the day, returning to glory.” He held up his sheathed dagger for emphasis.
Zevrial’s warning about showing off rang in my ears.
“Yeah, who wants to just collect seashells for a living,” Veridiana added.
“Volunteers, with me!” Zevrial shouted. I turned and saw him striding toward the opening entrance, his predatory grace making each movement look practiced and planned.
Maybe it was.
He’d traded his bow for twin daggers at his hip. I followed him out the gate with the rest of the volunteers. There were a mere fifteen of us in total.
Without anything further, Zevrial began to sprint.
Our haphazard human hoard ran to the Jakavra coast line, chasing after him until we reached the first perimeter.
This was the closest I’d ever been to the inner perimeter. It was incredibly tall, a banyan wall with a walking platform at its zenith. I gazed up and up, trying to see how high it stretched. It was higher than I could free climb.
“This way,” Zevrial called, herding everyone toward a gated passage on the side of the wall. There were foreboding spikes on the bottom, facing the outer perimeter.
We hurried through.
Beyond, the outer perimeter became visible.
It was then I realized I'd never seen the outer perimeter before.
Rising up in a sturdy wall of cobbled basalt, it was taller than the grandest cathedral spire, with pointed metal spikes jutting out near the top. Even so, the inner perimeter dwarfed it in scale. The outer perimeter looked at least as thick as five palm trees. Small stone doorways had been built into the structure, although it looked like they were spread at least a mile or two apart. Discolored stacks of stones were visible at intervals along its length.
A cart full of dark rock with several more filled barrels rested next to the wall. The fruits of prisoner labor, fresh from the mines of Mount Kael. I could still feel the gritty powder on my skin, sweaty hands wrapped around a pickaxe as I strained to break more ore loose from solid wall.
Nails cracked with veiny roots and shards of stone. Struggling under the crushing weight of a human life.
Blood. So much blood.
I stomped down the memory. I wasn’t there anymore.
From here, I could see two massive blistered edges where the hydra had eaten through the outer perimeter. In between those melted edges was a gaping hole, with a direct visual of the sea of miasma beyond it. The hole was barely big enough for aperson to fit through, but it was plenty big enough for Sanguirs to squeeze through.
The edge of the miasma where it met the sand was unnerving. It foamed and bubbled, faint wisps of smoke rising from it and being carried off by the fierce wind, the smell more astringent and cloying and foul. It was simultaneously alien and unsettling. Corrosive gossamer waves crescendoed before curling back. Sinister shadows swayed beneath the waves. Shredders.
