A Good Servant Chapter 24
A Good Servant – Ch. 24
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2018 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Gay Erotica
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story contains graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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Chapter Twenty-Four
Nobody was saying a thing. Waiting was the pits, Cory thought, as he eyed the door for the umpteenth time with troubled eyes. Were they really prepared for what was going to come through that door, should Edgar get caught? He could not tell, and he didn't need to check on his partners in justifiable crime, to know that they were thinking the same thing, maybe not worrying as much, but dealing with their own thoughts in their own ways.
Xavier sat on a chair, his eyes set on the door, too, without even pretending that he was busy doing something else. Marcus was inspecting the pair of sub-machine guns concealed by his large leather jacket time and time again. It was clear as day that Ayn was tempted to do the same thing with his own weaponry, but he was trying to pretend that he was nonchalant and not one bit affected by the long wait.
Could Edgar really pull off such a stunt? For anyone, except the scientist, it seemed unlikely. But the man knew this city, its inhabitants, and he hadn't seemed one bit frightened by adverse outcomes as he had dressed in the usual Aerian attire and taken his temporary farewell.
He stood up and went to the window. Maybe it served to know in advance whether there was trouble coming their way or, the desired opposite, hope.
"I think they're coming," he said hurriedly, the moment he spotted Edgar's tall silhouette, accompanied by someone all dressed up in frilly garments.
Everyone stood up like they were ready to welcome someone very important. Which was, if he was thinking clearly, the truth. This next piece of the puzzle had to work. Lena had to be able to help them somehow. And willing, at the same time.
The door opened with a small screech, most probably due to lack of proper oiling, seeing that the master of the house had been away for some time now.
Edgar dutifully held the door for the woman, and Lena entered the room.
Everyone kept their breath, as the woman searched their faces with inquisitive eyes until she noticed Xavier. She opened her mouth, then closed it quickly, and made a curtsy.
"Lord Xavier," she said, her eyes demurely cast down.
"There is no need for this, young lady," Xavier spoke in a perfect Drena accent.
Cory stole a quick glance toward his former Master. It was evident that Xavier knew that his position could be used to impress their would-be ally, but, at the same time, he wanted to clear the air of all the possible complications his former station could incur.
"Did Edgar tell you everything?" Xavier continued, as Lena straightened up and now seemed tempted to keep her quiet observation of the men filling the room.
"An astonishing tale, yes, he did," she admitted.
"Do I gather that you don't believe him?" Xavier inquired.
Lena threw Edgar a little glance, filled with meaning.
"Edgar is the sanest person I know. I do believe him."
"And I believe Lena is the perfect person to help us," Edgar offered courteously in exchange for the strange compliment.
"I think this is their way of saying they like each other," Marcus whispered to Ayn, making the other snicker.
It wasn't like the others couldn't hear them. Cory hid a smile of his own, while Xavier half-turned to throw them a brief look. Lena blushed and looked away, while Edgar seemed to encounter sudden trouble with his collar.
"This is no time for chit-chat and meaningless banter," Xavier chided Marcus and Ayn. "Young lady, what we are going to ask of you is dangerous, might not work, and could compromise you forever."
"Great pep talk," Marcus commented, but another look from Xavier made him turn temporarily mute.
"I understand the risks," Lena replied. "But by what Edgar is telling me about what happened in Teran, it is not like I have a choice. As much as I would like to be philosophical enough about embracing my demise, I want to be able to continue my existence just as much as any other living creature. So, I am not doing this for you only; I am just as much doing it for myself. And the ones I care about," she added quickly, looking furtively at Edgar.
"I like her perspective on the situation," Ayn was the one up to no good this time, trying to imitate Xavier's high-class accent.
Xavier didn't waste a breath to chide his lover for the small interruption.
"Well, it is great to know that you are on our side. But can you take us to where the components that you must send to Drena are?"
"I am afraid that there is only one shipment left. The others were scheduled for different days up till today. But I can take you to where the components are. Unfortunately, I cannot say whether something vital might be among them. I cannot guarantee the success of this sabotage operation."
"For a machine as large as the one that the Trainers need to use, a lot of pieces can be vital. We might be in luck."
"Let us all wait for nightfall," Lena recommended. "Aerians are not famous for roaming the streets after dark. And, except for what are usually scheduled visits, we work unmonitored."
"We will stay alert, nonetheless. When the Trainers suspected Cory of coming here, they did come unannounced," Edgar spoke.
"Cory is Hector, right?" Lena smiled and looked directly at the former servant. "You could not have been from Bluesilver. People so beautiful could only be raised in Drena."
"Now that makes me feel like I want to take offense," Marcus parodied Xavier's accent, making the others snicker. "Do you want to say, young lady, that my buddy Ayn here, and I, are some monkeys you wouldn't look upon?"
Lena examined the burly man with unhidden curiosity. But not for one second did she seem surprised or intimidated by the mountain that was Marcus.
"Depending on standards of attractiveness that pertain to one culture or another, you two could be considered within the small percentage of people gifted with looks that might be appreciated by the rest of the population," she answered promptly.
Marcus stared at the short woman through his eyelashes, like he was weighing her.
"What do you think, Ayn?"
"I think she just said that we're handsome sons of bitches," Ayn replied, in good humor.
"Hey, say what you want about your mom, but leave mine out of it," Marcus shot back, and that earned him an instant playful punch in the shoulder from Ayn.
Lena observed the exchange between them with keen eyes.
"Your friends are fascinating, Edgar," she turned toward the scientist.
Cory could tell Edgar was not exactly comfortable with all the exchange between Marcus and Ayn, by the coloring of the heights of his cheeks. But he was a brave man, nonetheless, despite being so blatantly teased.
"Yes, I suppose they are," he answered promptly.
"We're teaching Edgar how to shoot a gun," Ayn boasted.
"Shoot a gun?" Lena expressed her astonishment. "Aren't you afraid that you might get hurt, Edgar?" she inquired.
"Not as much as I feared that we were going to set the entire laboratory on fire when we experimented together with acetone and sulfuric acid," Edgar replied.
"Look at these kids," Marcus said joyously. "Having fun with dangerous stuff. I suppose that stuff was dangerous, right?"
"Especially in combination," Edgar admitted.
"And I was worrying about Edgar. It looks like he already managed to impress the little lady," Marcus remarked in a loud voice.
"We will have enough time to have fun at the expense of one another," Xavier stopped their happy banter once more. "Later. After we deal with the matters of a weapon of mass destruction that might wipe all life on the entire continent."
That seemed to sober up everyone at the speed of light.
"Edgar will know where to take you," Lena spoke quickly. "I will wait for you and let you in."
With that, she bid her farewell, leaving a speechless Edgar to stare after her, while holding the door for a little while.
"That one," Marcus wagged the finger at the scientist. "There's fire in her eyes. I'm telling you. You should hurry and get her already."
"Nonsense," Edgar protested. "She is as well behaved as I am."
"We're already teaching you bad words. I bet she'd be an even faster learner than you are," Marcus joked.
"I suppose," Edgar said with a small, reverent sigh.
"What are we going to do until nightfall?" Ayn wondered out loud.
"I will search the premises for some canned food that is not yet expired, and I would like to invite anyone who's up for the challenge, to a game of chess," Edgar answered.
"What's that?" Ayn questioned.
"I'll explain all the rules," Edgar waved, but he did have a small, secretive smile on his face, as he spoke.
"Look at him. Planning to beat us to a pulp, at that game of his," Marcus laughed.
"Me? No way," Edgar's smile broadened. "But I should warn you that I'm not always easy on novices. Maybe I should go easy on you."
"Bring it on, Mr. Scientist," Marcus challenged him. "That game can't be that hard."
Cory watched his friends engaging, once more, in laughter and chit-chat. It was like danger wasn't looming at the horizon. He admired them. But while Marcus, Ayn, and Edgar were happily setting up the table for their game, he could not help notice Xavier and the deep frown on his face. There was someone who was just as worried as he was.
***
The building where the components were stored was not guarded, even after nightfall. Cory couldn't help but wonder whether the citizens of Aeria were indeed so confident in one another not to engage in criminal activity, especially given what had happened with Edgar.
"What did Lena tell you about how the others reacted to your disappearance?" he whispered, although the streets seemed deserted and the entire city seemed still, except for the flickering of the street lights that, for some reason, while electric, had been designed to imitate the golden tremble of dying embers.
"I made the news for a few days, by the looks of it," Edgar replied, in the same hushed voice. "But, eventually, after the Trainers simply decreed that I simply turned mad, most probably due to the too frequent use of the killer of feelings, everyone took it like it was."
"Lena, too?" Cory murmured.
"No," Edgar answered with a small sigh. "Not for one moment, she believed that. She, ahem, kissed me when I pulled her aside this morning."
"Oh," Cory giggled. "Marcus and Ayn might just be right; I'm afraid to say."
"Of course, that made me quite the scattered brain," Edgar exhaled. "Otherwise, I cannot explain how I could lose three games of chess in a row against Marcus, Ayn, and Xavier. I used to be the master of that game."
They reached the dark door, and Edgar knocked very softly, following a pattern on which he must have decided with Lena. The woman was dressed in black, Cory noticed when she opened the door. She glanced around and signaled them to follow. No matter how quiet the streets were, Lena still cared about taking precautions. That was just another sign that they weren't out of the woods just yet.
"These are the components," Lena gestured toward what looked like an organized pile of pylons made of metal, wires, and other mundane items.
"Nothing that looks that ominous," Xavier commented, and Cory agreed, quietly, with him. "How can we know if we can truly sabotage the entire mechanism, just by damaging this lot?" he added, gesturing toward the stored components.
"We cannot," Edgar replied gravely. "But we can, not so randomly, cause unapparent damage to these elements, and hope for the best."
"That is not exactly a thorough plan," Xavier remarked, while Lena was guiding Ayn and Marcus toward a workbench on which power tools lay around.
"No, it is just part of the plan that still involves trying to take Drena by storm," Edgar admitted. "Ever since Lena told us that there is just one shipment left, that was on my mind."
"It's a reasonable plan," Xavier admitted. "We should attempt to stop the Trainers from using their death machine in more ways than one. We're increasing our chances of success. Good thinking, Edgar."
"Thank you," the scientist replied politely.
That was their last exchange in the large room. The moment they began working on the components, the only conversation was reduced to small orders and suggestions, mostly from Lena and Edgar, to the others.
"I believe you are about to live that grand destiny I thought I was seeing while reading your skull," Lena put a gentle hand on Cory's arm.
"And I believe you are right," Cory confirmed.
Lena squeezed his arm in sympathy.
"There was something else," she said. "At that moment, I had no idea what could mean. But you will have to make a choice."
Cory nodded.
"Whatever that would be, I hope I'll make the right one."
Lena smiled.
"I am certain you will."
Everyone was putting their hopes in him. But he no longer felt daunted by the task ahead. It was like the stream of his thoughts was pushing through a narrow path for a determined destination. And, despite not knowing what the end of the road held in store for him, he knew it was the only choice. The right one.
***
"Smooth sailing, uh-hoo," Marcus shouted, as their van was leaving Aeria behind.
"Too smooth, if you're asking me," Xavier murmured, as he set his hands on his knees and looked behind, through the rear windows at the city disappearing in the distance.
"I'll take what I'm given, man," Marcus shrugged. "And with all due respect, Your Majesty, this time, I'm not asking you anything. This one's a win, and we frigging needed a win."
"You know what I'm talking about," Xavier continued to talk, but this time he looked straight at Cory.
He shifted in his place. How come Xavier's eyes made him feel so unsettled, even after all this time? There was something strange about their color. He could not remember seeing anyone else with eyes of such a steely quality and hue. Especially when Xavier had been passionate or angry, his eyes had reminded Cory of a sky in turmoil. They didn't have the same lifeless, dull grey color of the Trainers' eyes, but they were still ... somehow the same.
He shook his head.
"Yes, I do," he eventually replied. "No one stopped us. Or at least tried to. Maybe the last shipment was of no importance whatsoever?"
"It doesn't matter. We'll go through that front door, and stop them before they can even say hello," Ayn joked. "They won't have time to put together their stupid machinery, while we march toward Drena to get them."
"The shipment still moves slow enough," Edgar agreed. "We have the advantage of speed. Everyone is ready for combat, back in Haven. Even without us there, they got organized. I'm sure of it. Myra's in charge."
Ayn snickered.
"I bet she had everyone make their beds while we've been away. They must be scared of her right now."
"Your friend proved to be reliable," Xavier said, turning toward his lover. "I think she taught them more than just to make their beds. What we need is an army waiting for us, so that we can lead the way to Drena."
"Everyone will be ready," Ayn said.
"There are guards down at the mines and the factories," Xavier spoke. "They need to be neutralized first. Drena is not heavily guarded, otherwise. Of course, the Trainers cannot suspect a mutiny is rolling down their way. Everyone there is under their thumb. The best part of this is that no one there is a fighter. The Rulers are trained to handle state affairs, trade relationships, and such. The slaves have their utility that doesn't involve the use of weapons, at least not the kind that we should fear. And the servants are not trained to oppose an army of well-armed individuals."
"Are you trying to tell me that it's going to be a breeze? Will we just waltz into Drena?" Ayn joked.
"No," Xavier shook his head. "What I'm trying to say is that the ones who will be able to oppose us are not the human beings living there. And that means that we have the element of unpredictability to worry about. We cannot know what we're going to face."
"We were all taught that the Trainers are the most powerful. There's no greater power than theirs," Cory spoke.
Xavier nodded shortly.
"But except for training us all to fit a mold, I cannot say that I have ever been made aware of what their power means. They are great at brainwashing, that is for sure. But somehow it feels that our own obedience is to blame," Xavier said, as his eyes traveled back to the rear windows, only to stare at nothing, as Aeria was not even a dot in the distance now.
"Your obedience, maybe," Ayn shrugged. "But no one forced me into a mold. Or Marcus. Or Myra. Or anyone else back home. And you two are just the proof that the Trainers know jack shit. You're no Ruler," he pulled Xavier close to kiss his cheek. "I suppose the Trainers didn't teach you to moan so nicely when I take you."
Xavier wanted to open his mouth to protest, but Ayn continued, pointing the finger at Cory this time around.
"And you, what kind of servant are you? Going to and fro through the desert, getting everyone hot and bothered about some revolution and stuff? And you," he punched Edgar's seat playfully, to draw the man's attention, "are really not the kind of scientist I thought any guy from Aeria should be like."
"Really?" Edgar turned and smiled. "How am I, then?"
"Too much in the mood to jump into flying contraptions – by the way, I would have given a nut to see that crazy stuff in action."
"You would not have given anything," Xavier's voice was icy, despite the playful banter being thrown around.
"See what I mean?" Ayn kissed Xavier's cheek again. "The First Ruler of Drena only cares about my nuts."
Everybody laughed. Even Xavier. Even Cory. They needed this type of morale to see the end of this thing. Otherwise, they would have gone through everything for nothing.
***
"So, we'll just start digging?" Dion asked, pulling John's sleeve to draw his man's attention.
"Basically, yeah, but we need one thing to make sure that the earth won't come rolling down on us," John explained.
"What's that?" Dion asked, but he was interrupted by a noise coming from behind.
The huge cylinder the miners were pushing was impressive enough to make the rest of them scatter to the sides.
"Lucky thing we found this close to the refuge," John spoke. "We drill and open the way in front, and this will take care of the earth crushing our bones problem."
"Okay," Dion murmured.
John surely knew what he was talking about. Together with the rest, he lined up to jump into the strange contraption.
"Is it like a huge drill or something?" he whispered to John.
"The drill part of it no longer works," John replied. "That's why the fellows had to remove that component. We'll drill. This thing at least moves. It would have been something for the drill still to work, but we're lucky nonetheless. Now, let's make ourselves useful."
Dion had had many friends among the servants. Yet, he could not recall ever having this sort of bond with the other people he had known in Drena. Humming a musical tune, the miners began working like well-oiled machinery. They were making a conveyor belt of human bodies to dislodge chunks of earth from the wall and move it, using old-fashioned wheelbarrows to the other end of the cylinder like contraption, where they were throwing them away.
"This seemed pretty dangerous," Dion murmured, as he grabbed the handles of a wheelbarrow to help.
"It's this, or we just die of thirst and hunger," John said matter-of-factly.
"We're not going to die," Dion said with conviction and moved only so that he could steal a quick kiss from John.
Forward was the only way. Humming in the same rhythm with the rest, he began pushing the wheelbarrow.
***
"What the hell could that be?" John asked out loud, although his question wasn't aimed at anyone in particular.
"It looks like a large room," Dion jumped out of the drill and began to inspect their surroundings. "Hey, look, that's a ladder!" he pointed out at the far end of the enormous room.
Without waiting for a confirmation from his mates, he hurried with the torch in hand to the metal ladder. Grabbing it with one hand, he shook it.
"We don't know where that leads!" one miner shouted in warning.
"Not exactly," Dion shouted back. "But we know that it goes up, and that's where we need to get, right?"
Murmurs of agreement could be heard from the exhausted men. Dion put his put on the first step.
"Not so fast, princess," John chuckled behind him. "Allow me the pleasure to get first."
"No way," Dion said stubbornly. "We're going to get out of here. I feel it in my bones."
"Even so, we cannot know where this ladder takes us. I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you because I let you go first."
"Come on, lovebirds," a miner pushed them both aside. "I'll go first."
Dion and John both nodded at the man. The miner was as agile as a monkey, as he began climbing. It was strange to stare into the darkness above, as it was difficult to see how far the ladder went.
Everyone held their breath, and only the sound made by the miner's heavy boots on the metal steps broke the silence for what seemed to last forever. Suddenly, there was a screeching sound that tore through the darkness.
Above them, small and faint, there was a circle that seemed paler, infused with light, compared to the darkness inside the mines.
"All good," the miner's voice followed by its echo bounced off the walls. "It's like a building or something. It looks like no one's here."
There was a bit of a ruckus, and they had to get organized so that everyone could climb the ladder but without running the risk of making it collapse under their weight. John and Dion allowed the others to climb before them and remained last.
"Now you can go first," Dion joked.
"And make me miss the pleasure of staring at your ass all the way to the top?"
With a small laugh, Dion started climbing. It certainly helped much with his balance that John placed a heavy hand on his ass and made him move upward. He almost felt like laughing. They weren't going to die in the mines, after all.
The long way up did take some time, but, eventually, they were all out of the darkness. Dion had to blink several times, and his eyesight was still impaired. The soft light filtered through the tall windows garnishing the large hallway they were in on both sides had the effect of bright halos directed straight at their eyes.
Eventually, he began to make sense of everything around him.
"I know this place," he said with a small gasp.
"What is it then?" one man asked, grabbing him by one arm.
John pushed the guy aside and pulled Dion to him.
"It looks like no one's around," another commented. "Not in this wing, at least."
"That's odd," Dion murmured and made himself little against John's larger frame. "This is ... not supposed to be like this."
"What do you mean?" John asked him this time, engulfing him with one large arm, to make sure Dion felt protected.
"This is the Institution," Dion said in one breath.
It was clear that the others knew little, if anything, of what he was talking about. He knew more than he could ever want, in return. The place did seem deserted, but it was like Dion could still hear his own cries, echoes of a time past, but one that had not been too long ago. Not enough to let the deep scars on his soul heal till they could become nothing but fading marks.
He shook his head. This place wasn't going to get the best of him. He wasn't going to allow some ghosts to scare him. They might have tried to make him fit a mold, but the simple fact that he was now there, standing tall, next to a man he loved and they wanted to send to his sure death, was enough proof that all the Trainers' torture and mind-numbing experiments amounted to nothing.
"We should be careful," he spoke, raising his voice so that the others could hear him. "It is unusual that the place seems so empty. It is usually ... pretty animated," he added, pushing away the memories.
Animated was the wrong choice of words, but he didn't have the time, nor the inclination to explain to people who had just escaped certain demise, and had been condemned, anyway, what atrocities usually took place in that building.
They began walking slowly, but nothing save for the sound of their steps on the polished floors could be heard. All the benign shuffling and murmurs were theirs. The Institution looked like nothing else but the empty shell of what it used to be.
Every chamber was empty. The beds had been neatly made, and there were no signs of human activity anywhere. Not in the cafeteria, not in the chambers used for disciplining those who were trained to serve.
"Where is everybody?" he spoke, mostly to himself.
The Trainers' complex machinery that was Drena needed human blood to function. That meant that new people were always in training. Yet, there was no one like that in sight. Actually, there was no one at all.
***
"It is the eve of our most important celebration," the Head Trainer stood up and took in the crowd.
It was not desirable to speed things up like this, but with the mutinies down at the mines, the strikes at the factories that had exploded the moment the creatures there had imagined, based on nothing but hear-say, that some misfits had managed to escape through the convoluted underground corridors, he could do nothing else.
The miners were probably dead by now. Or, if not, they were bound to die of thirst and hunger. Death by thirst was something to contemplate. It had usually been a compelling method of torturing the most willful elements trained at the Institution. Hunger pangs were something, but thirst ...
The Head Trainer took in the population gathered at the foot of the erected platform, organized in honor of the announcement. Yet he was not anticipating with glee what was to come. He felt nothing, and that, in itself, had to feel like empowerment.
He had heard the merchants gossiping. Something about a desert army on the loose. Good. The closer everyone was to the machine, the better. There was, unfortunately, no more time, to test its potency. What had to be done was going to happen.
He raised both hands as if he was ready to bless the masses. His speech was not going to be long. Soon, he was going to step down and let his brothers continue.
"Our most significant work is complete. I have my brothers' agreement that it entails a riveting change for Drena and the entire continent."
Rulers, servants, slaves. Some wore beautiful clothes, laying on lavish beds carried by strong slaves. Others were served delicious fruits from trays held by beautiful servants with their eyes cast down.
Even the people from outside Drena had been invited to partake. Men with harsh eyes, and callous hands. Guards holding their weapons, fingers on triggers, always vigilant, ready for an uprising.
How useless, the Head Trainer pondered. Soon enough, all were going to be the same. And above them, he was going to rise as the only one.
The One.
Was there a tinge of irony? No, if anything, the Head Trainer could not have been accused of such a trifle whim of twisting words. No, that was going to be the simple, pure reality.
The event, as was thought to be orchestrated, was not actually taking place there, on the high platform. They were going to withdraw to the inner sanctum, at the right moment. There, where Lord Lucas was going to play the final act, filling in the role he had been given to the best of his abilities.
Such a weak one, the Head Trainer wanted to shake his head. Lord Xavier would have been such a perfect choice. Maybe even the only one with a chance.
His mind had a bad habit of getting a tad distracted lately. Maybe he was, indeed, tired, with keeping the whole world on his shoulders. He was going to rest soon. That was something to look forward to.
***
"What the hell?" Ayn stood up from his car seat and watched warily at the unmanned gates. "Really? We got armed and all that, and we don't even have to fight?"
Xavier stood behind him.
"Stay alert. This is strange. There should have been guards at the gates."
Their noisy procession fell as silent as it could, as they made their way through.
"There's no one?" Ayn wondered out loud.
Cory jumped out of the van and began pushing open doors to what looked like bunkhouses, or small shops.
"Do you think they already used that machinery? That weapon?" Marcus asked, from his place.
"It seems unlikely," Edgar replied. "Nothing points out at the people who lived here being ... dead. It just looks like they all got up and left, nothing else."
"But why?" Marcus asked again.
"Well, that's the big question, indeed," Edgar said instead of an actual reply.
"So what do we do?" Ayn asked.
"Just as planned," Xavier spoke. "We storm Drena. No one is dead yet. And that means that we still have a chance."
Cory observed his friends with troubled eyes. No, they weren't too late. That couldn't be.
***
"Well, I'd say we go outside, and see what the hell is going on," John proposed, and everyone else seemed to agree with him.
The court looked just as deserted. Dion verified a few other places where proof of life should have been found. But there was nothing. Outside the Institution, Drena stood white and proud, promising, just like in the past, not salvation, but something ominous and dark, despite its pristine walls.
"Should we try to get into the city? Find some answers?" Dion asked.
"Or we could just run the hell out of here," a miner proposed.
"We have no food, no water. Do you say that we should just run into the desert, like this?" Dion asked again.
He was met with a few murmurs of discontent.
"There's nothing here to take," he continued, his voice a bit firmer now. "And if we get back to the outer city, we'll just run into the guards. Armed guards," he reminded everyone. "Drena has plenty of everything," he added. "But not that many guns. Or people to wield them."
That seemed to tip the balance in his favor. Their cortege was nothing but a bunch of tired, harrowed men. But none was afraid to walk into the white city and demand what was rightfully theirs. Whatever risk that might entail.
***
"Don't use lethal force unless it's needed," Cory spoke, standing tall on the roof of Marcus's van. "Most of the people inside won't be armed."
"Neutralize the guards only," Xavier added, from his right. "No bloodshed," he added. "Unless it's needed," the last words were spoken mostly for Cory's ears and no one else's.
"Are we ready?" Cory raised his right hand, holding the symbol given by Tora.
A collective energetic shout was the response. With determined eyes, Cory turned to face the tall white walls. The inner city seemed silent, yet Cory could sense that he was still to meet a formidable enemy behind those gates.
***
"What do you think it's going on in there?" John whispered into his lover's ear.
"I have no idea," Dion murmured, as he stared down, at the gathering, from his vantage point. "But it doesn't matter. If they're all here, that means that we have plenty of time to plunder the kitchens and pantries."
"Good thinking," John replied.
They were as silent as they could be as they descended the high walls. Dion stole nervous glances from the people down below. One Trainer was saying something in a thunderous voice, standing on a tall platform above. And everyone was listening, in pure rapture, it seemed, as not one noise could be heard from the crowd.
Something of what was going on there was giving him the chills. But there was no time to dally. They needed to act fast.
***
"So first we need to knock down these gates?" Ayn looked up, at the impressive doors sealing in the inner city, hidden in its cocoon. "Well, we should get to work. We might not be able to surprise them, after all."
"They will be plenty surprised," Xavier replied as he marched forward, and signaled for the people with their improvised battery ram to move.
The army split in half to allow the war machine to pass through. Yet, they weren't even close when the gates suddenly opened before them, and a group of men dressed in nothing but dirty rags began walking through them.
"What the fuck?" Ayn expressed, out loud, his astonishment at the strange apparition.
Upon seeing them, the group of men stopped, most probably in shock. On one side, a few cocked their weapons. The others froze in place.
"Stop!" Cory shouted.
He didn't need any confirmation that the men in front of them were no enemies. They couldn't be. He rushed in front.
"Who are you, people?" he asked.
"Cory?" someone from the group of men spoke.
He squinted at the one walking forward.
"Dion!" he exclaimed and began running.
His face completely covered in soot, dressed in clothes that must have seen much better days, his servant friend was rushing to him. They embraced and stood like that for what must have been a long time, as people from both parties began to cheer and whistle.
"All friends here," Cory let go of Dion and waved at the others.
His words were carried from mouth to mouth to the people in the back. Dion's mates were still walking cautiously toward them, unsure of whether they were really welcome by the strange army.
"I knew we'd meet again," Dion said and grinned.
Cory replied in kind.
"But what's all this?" Dion asked.
"It's a bit hard to explain. We need to get inside Drena. So, thanks for opening the door for us, so to speak," Cory spoke. "We need to stop the Trainers. They're about to do something bad."
"Bad?" Dion snorted.
"I mean really bad," Cory caught his friend's arm and looked him in the eyes. "Will you guys come with us?"
"Sure thing," Dion nodded curtly.
"I see a lot has happened to you, too, since we last saw each other," Cory looked over Dion's shoulder.
"I'm John," a tall man offered, shaking Cory's hand, and putting one protective arm around Dion's waist.
"Are you guys done with the smooching, or are we going to have some tea?" Ayn joked. "Hey, guys, give some of your spares to our allies," he gestured to the people behind them.
Dion's mates hurried to join them.
"Could you at least tell me what we're doing?" Dion asked Cory.
"We're practically destroying the Trainers' reign," Cory replied.
"And we need to save our asses," Ayn added.
Dion's eyes grew wide as he carefully examined Cory's friends.
"Lord Xavier," he gasped.
"Not a lord anymore," the former Ruler replied. "I'm with the good guys now," Xavier attempted a joke.
Dion was clearly beyond himself with surprise. Cory took his arm.
"Do you trust me?"
"Sure thing I do. But, Cory, I can hardly wait for you to tell me everything."
"Later," Cory embraced him curtly.
Thousands of heads turned to watch the large door being pulled wide open by a few of their strongest men.
"As they say," Cory murmured. "It's now or never."
***
"It's frigging chaos!" Ayn yelled from one side, and Cory pulled the man by his leather jacket.
"We need to leave the guys to take care of this, and we need to move," Cory said. "Dion said the Trainers were saying something from a high platform. Look, there," he pointed up, and Ayn followed his hand. "No one's there now."
"We have to get inside the building, then," Ayn said with determined. "Let me rally the inner circle," he added, and Cory nodded at him.
Around him, people were fighting. So far, the people he had brought with him were keeping their promise not to use lethal force against those unarmed. But there was resistance, and a few guards had been already neutralized, which meant weapons had been shot. Many were fleeing in disarray, and the attackers were trying to push them toward the gates.
He closed his eyes and tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart. Where was Lucas? What were the Trainers doing? Could it be that they had their machine ready?
***
"What's with all the noise?" the Head Trainer asked, irritated. "I thought we recommended them to spend the next hours in reverent silence."
"There seems to be a coordinated attack, Head Trainer," someone answered.
"Why is this servant here?" he asked, as his eyes fell on the one who had replied his question.
"He's Lord Lucas servant," one of the Trainers offered the answer in the servant's stead. "We believe it would help our favorite son to have someone familiar with him now, during the most trying hour of his life."
"We?" the Head Trainer hissed but reigned in the emotion threatening to overthrow his balance. "What is this news about an attack?"
"Outsiders, Head Trainer," the servant spoke again, keeping his head bowed, his eyes concealed.
Outsiders? The memory of the dream he had had a few days prior touched him fleetingly.
"It doesn't matter," he waved. "But I will have to withdraw for the rest of the day. I am tired."
At his words, a few murmurs rose in the sea of grey hoods.
"Do you not wish to be a witness of our accomplishment?" one of the hoods asked.
"As much as this would fill my heart with glee, I am afraid I cannot. It pleases me that we reached this important milestone. Now, if you will all excuse me, brothers," he added, as he rose from his place.
He didn't look back as he walked toward the door. Soon, soon, he would be free. Of everyone and everything. No one and nothing could stand in his way.
***
"We're in full formation?" Xavier asked as he looked over their group.
"We are," Cory confirmed, as he pushed open the doors that seemed to lead to a long hallway.
"Do we know where we are going?" Edgar asked. "Or should we split to cover more ground?"
"No need," Cory said curtly. "I know precisely where we're going."
He could not explain how he knew that. It would have been difficult to say anything that could make sense about it. But he knew, and with that knowledge, a sense of urgency was growing inside him.
"I'm not too late," he murmured to himself.
"What, Cory?" Xavier asked him, as they marched forward.
"Nothing, I was just trying to encourage myself," he replied.
There was a door in front of them, singular in appearance, unlike anything they had seen before. Made of solid metal, with elaborate decorations covering it from the ceiling to the floor. He pushed through it, without giving it much thought.
"Stop!" he shouted, and a mass of grey hoods turned with swishy sounds of garments.
His eyes searched frantically. He needed to get to him. He needed to. Pushing aside anyone who tried to stand in his way, he was carving himself a path. By the sounds surrounding him, he could tell that his friends were more convincing than him, helping him complete his quest.
"What do you think you are doing, coming in here, in this foul manner?" one Trainer stood on a dais, blocking his view.
"Get out of my way!" he shouted and jumped on the low platform, pushing the Trainer away from his path.
He stopped in front of the iron chair, heaving. Lucas was there, slouched in the contraption, his eyes cast down. Cory moved closer, taking in the manacles holding the man tied to the chair.
"There is nothing you can do," one Trainer shouted at him in his cavernous voice. "Lord Lucas is completing our existence's work as we speak. Soon, you will be nothing but dust!"
"Shut the fuck up, creep!" Cory heard Ayn's voice from behind, followed by a low thud, a clear sign that the man had taken care of the speaker.
He grabbed Lucas's head into his hands and forced the man to look up. A pang of pure hurt shot through his chest, as his eyes met nothing but limpid grey pools.
"I know who you are," he said gently, as he hurried to support Lucas's head with one arm, and used the other hand to push away a few damp strands from the man's face. "I know your face."
Around him, he could hear the sounds of fighting. But there was nothing he cared about at that very moment. Everything else was fading, and there was nothing there but him and the man he was holding in his arms.
"I'll free you," he spoke, and he let go of his lover only to begin struggling with the ties around the man's wrists.
"Cory?" a hoarse voice called for him. "Is that truly you?"
He stared into the grey eyes and smiled. He could feel his tears falling down his cheeks, but he could smile.
"Yes, it's me. I promised you I'd come. In my dreams, I told you I would come."
He threw the manacles on the floor and hurried to embrace Lucas again.
"What happened? I had dreams of destruction, of people dying ..." Lucas tried to speak, raising one hand to touch his forehead.
"Don't worry about it," Cory pulled him close into an embrace.
"Cory, no," Lucas whispered and tried to get away from his lover's touch. "I ... I ... did something horrible ..."
"No," Cory pushed Lucas's fending hands away to take hold of his man once more. "That wasn't you, you hear me? That wasn't you!"
He pushed his forehead against Lucas's, closing his eyes tightly, willing himself not to cry so much, not to appear weak. He needed to be strong, now more than ever.
There was something akin to a chortling sound coming from behind that made him feel cold chills running down his back. Still holding Lucas, he turned slowly.
No one was laughing. The sound he was hearing was coming from the Trainers. The grey hoods were on the floor, squirming, seemingly fighting for air.
"What the hell is going on?" he almost shouted.
"We might have worked that machine pretty good," Ayn laughed, turning to face him. "It looks like they're the ones kicking the bucket, not us!"
That could be, Cory thought, but unlike Ayn, he was experiencing no righteous sense of retribution. The scene on the floor, the tangle of gnarled limbs rising, fighting, like they were trying to escape moving sands, was making him feel nothing but horror, deep into the marrow of his bones.
"This isn't right!" he chocked, and when he turned to look at Ayn, he watched as his friend suddenly fell to the ground, as if his legs had been cut off by an invisible adversary.
"Ayn!" Cory heard Xavier yelling.
The former Ruler of Drena was just in time to ease Ayn's fall. The mass of grey hoods was turning quiet, and Cory's eyes swept the room. Where were the others? Where was Edgar ...? Or Marcus? Or Dion?
"Ayn, Ayn, talk to me!" Xavier's voice was filled with anguish and urgency, as he was shaking the man in his arms. "Ayn!"
Xavier's last horrified shout made his hair stand on end. He turned to look at the one he was holding. A howl escaped his chest.
"No! Lucas, no!"
Lucas's head lolled to one side. Cory tried to squeeze into his hands the man's arms, but it was like they were meeting no resistance, and soon he was grabbing at nothing but the sleeves of the coat Lucas had been wearing.
He was shaking so hard as he turned back to look at the room, that he could not see clearly. His eyes were swimming in tears, and he could not control himself.
Fine dust was swirling through the air. But it wasn't silence, like in Teran. No. Another one's anguished cries were bouncing off the walls.
"Xavier!" he called out, taking one shaky step towards the man rocking violently on the floor, cradling nothing but a dusty leather jacket into his arm.
"Cory, they ... They killed my Ayn!" Xavier cried out. "They killed everyone!" he screamed, looking around with lost eyes. "How could we be so wrong? How could we be so late?"
"You're not late," someone else talked, making both of them turn toward the door.
"Who are you?" Cory blinked, as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
Holding the door, a young man dressed in impeccable servant attire, took a small bow.
"Hector thought of this possibility. I am your failsafe. Please, follow me."
TBC
Author's note:
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