127: The Line

Four Days Later

Dear Eris,

If you’re reading this, I’m sorry that I lied to you.

Jasmine clenched her jaw as she re-read the letter she’d written the night before. She hated it. She hated that she needed to write it, and hated even more that she couldn’t just say what she needed to say to Eris herself. 

She also hated that she understood exactly why this was necessary. Each sentence, each paragraph. From that first apology to the last line with the signature that was shaky at best because of the way her hands had been trembling, Jasmine understood. It needed to be done- with her just as much as a lot of the other people on the train.

The continental train running west to east had been packed to the brim with refugees fleeing from the advance of the Hollow. Not so much for the stations yesterday, but as the deployment of troops made their way westward, it became much more prevalent. Unfortunately, looking up from the letter she didn’t want to re-read only made the sight worse.

She and the rest of the party, along with multiple other specific individuals packed into this one car, could look out the windows while the train was briefly stopped to load more supplies and forces that were stuffed into other cars. This was the train heading west. On the other side of the platform was the one heading east.

Families. Singles. Anyone and everyone, all carrying bags or luggage, and squeezing into whatever cars could fit them. Other Syndicate soldiers had to hold back the ones that couldn’t, forcing them to wait for the next train. 

There was pushing.

There was shoving.

Yelling.

Crying.

Begging and pleading, with soldiers that were forced to try and maintain order in the chaos. Jasmine bit her cheek.

“There’s no benefit to trying to force their way onto the train,” Nima stared. “There’ll be more than enough trains after that one for them all to board.”

“They’re scared, Nima,” Claire said.

“But starting a confrontation with Syndicate soldiers isn’t going to get them on the train any sooner. If anything, it only increases the risk they won’t be allowed on at all, or simply have them become injured or killed by the soldiers themselves.”

“The soldiers aren’t gonna kill any of them,” A voice from the next booth over chirped up. Twisting around to peek over the back of her chair, Jasmine’s roommate, Becky, looked at where Nima was staring. “There isn’t a chance that any of them, or even all of them, could overpower the soldiers stationed there. So, that means that even if they’re being assaulted, the soldiers can be gentle and make sure that when they retaliate, nobody actually gets seriously injured. That’s also why they make sure to have healers on standby.”

“And crafters!” A different tone peeked through. This time, Jasmine glanced over to see a mousy girl with round glasses that looked more like binoculars and black hair that was so curly the girl could probably be used as a mop. Well, except for the fact that her adorable and dorky face didn’t match the near six foot, muscular body it was attached to.

Alex’s roommate, Naomi Reeter.

“There’s teams of crafters to provide relief aid, but mostly Culinarians to make sure everyone’s fed. They make sure that the food has some weird calming thing for one of the effects. Something about limiting extreme emotions? It helps to keep people from actually rioting.”

Alex furrowed her brow. “They’re drugging everyone trying to board the trains?”

“No, no. I mean… technically yes? But no- not really. It’s apparently nothing more than a teeny bit of sedation, just to make sure that evacuations actually go smoothly. A fight breaking out wouldn’t be good for anyone, so I think some soothing tea is more than a fair price for everyone to get out of here safely.”

All of them lurched in their seats a little bit as their train started pulling forward again to pick up speed.

“Well, that’s it,” Meghan whistled. “That was the last civilian station. Next one’s our stop. The front lines.”

“Not the front lines, specifically.”

All of them looked over at Elmas, who was sitting calmly in one of the other booths. The woman held a distant look while her eyes were fixed out the window to watch the landscape start rolling by with greater and greater speed.

“Archer Station is just over ten miles from where the containment line actually is. In and around Archer Station has been converted into our primary base of operations, and is the central point for further travel to the other field bases north and south along the line. Each of those stations is about the same distance from the containment line as Archer, and they’re where all of the soldiers stay when they aren’t delegated to direct missions or general watch.”

“What’s the difference?” Claire asked. Elmas cleared her throat.

“General watch is when the soldiers are posted along the line to hold the battlements. If anything gets too close from the other side of the line, they destroy it, no matter what it is.”

“Anything?” Claire suddenly looked nervous. Elmas gave a solemn nod.

“At this point in time, all the primary evacuation from everything beyond the containment line has been completed, so everything on the other side is officially a threat to be eliminated. Doesn’t matter whether it’s a deer, a butterfly, or a person asking for help. If it comes from the other side, it’s killed. We cannot take any risks.”

“That’s… cruel,” Alex offered. Jasmine expected some kind of response from the older soldier. She didn’t get it.

“Direct missions are when specific individuals are sent beyond the line to eliminate a key objective- whether it be a location or certain creatures." Elmas disregarded Alex's comment completely. "Our reconnaissance operatives keep track of how many Fodders are in a given area, as well as which types. Most importantly, though, is that they find and track any DT’s.”

“DT’s?” Meghan asked. Jasmine watched Elmas narrow her eyes.

“Were you not paying attention to the lessons? That kind of behaviour gets you killed.”

“I was paying attention!” Meghan whined. “I just happen to suffer from a medical condition called ‘Chronic Dumbassery’. It’s not my fault.”

The sigh that came from the mentor’s lips could have chiselled a stone. 

“Fodders are the term we use for mundane creatures that have been corrupted by the Hollow. Rabbits, wolves, birds, bears, frogs, those sorts of things. They aren’t very threatening on their own, even when corrupted, and try to make up for that in numbers more often than not. Dangerous Threats- DT’s- are ones that need to be watched out for. They are the magical creatures that have succumbed to the corruption, and their abilities change the ways that they need to be dealt with.”

Elmas idly twisted the ring on her good hand as she spoke.

“Class One DT’s are the creatures that are magical, but not in a way that makes them too much different than Fodders. Tressyms, perytons, cyclopes, chupacabras, minotaurs, and so on and so forth. In most cases, any influence of their magical nature is minimal, though some, such as chupacabras, may be shockingly vicious and powerful with just raw strength. Class Two DT’s are the ones that are exceptionally magical. Harpies, Salamanders, banshees, basilisks, rusters, all of them. They aren’t strong on their own, but they make openings and weaknesses through their effects that Fodders or Class Ones can capitalise on to break a formation. Class Threes…”

The woman took a long breath.

“Class Threes are our fellow soldiers who weren’t able to be slain before the corruption fully took them. They are particularly dangerous, not only because they retain all of their magic and skills, as well as the knowledge to use them effectively, but also because they spread their power to other corrupted nearby.”

“The Hollow’s kind of a hive mind, right?” Becky drummed her fingers on the seat she was peeking over. “You do anything to one of them, and everything corrupted in a quarter mile knows where you are. When they’re in close proximity, they kind of bond with each other. If one of those corruptions then has Mana and the ability to cast spells, then a little bit of that mana and magic leaks through the pipes to get into all the others nearby.”

“Which is why Class Three DT’s are among the highest priority to eliminate,” Elmas said. “Not only is it a favour granted to the corrupted so that they can rest, but a single high level corrupted combatant can turn a pack of Fodders into something more dangerous than a dozen Class Ones or Twos.”

“Still not as bad as the Class Fours, though,” Naomi murmured. “Apparently they were the ones that initially broke the defensive line. Stuff like dragons, rocs, hydras, nagas and tallarus.”

“Neutricores?” Jasmine brought up the name of the creature that had been mentioned no small amount recently. Surprisingly, though, Elmas shook her head.

“No, actually. Neutricores are one of the few kinds of creatures that appear to be immune to the effects of the Hollow. It likely has to do with them primarily existing in the minds of creatures rather than a physical form. Since the Hollow tends to act as if it’s one single creature rather than a multitude of them, it may mean that Neutricores can’t exist at all in the perception of the Hollow. They can’t corrupt them, attack them, or be attacked by them.”

“That’s a fuckin’ shame,” Meghan blew a raspberry. “Imagine if we could breed up an army of the bastards and just sic' 'em on the Hollow.”

“Apparently they tried that about two hundred years ago,” Naomi adjusted her glasses. “It didn’t work out well, since they completely ignored each other and attacked the Syndicate together. Never tried it since.”

“If the neutricores are immune to the effects of the Hollow, could there be a way of reverse-engineering that immunity to give it to humankind?” Nima asked.

“That’s one of the primary reasons we farm the things,” Elmas sighed. “That, and the materials are used for a lot of reconnaissance equipment and even the Whisperstones. If they do hold the key to immunity from the Hollow, our researchers haven’t found anything for over a century.”

“Any other creatures immune to the Hollow?” Jasmine asked.

“Yes, and with more promising interactions,” Elmas nodded. “Phoenixes, for example, seem to be completely and utterly incapable of being corrupted. Not only that, they have been seen in the past actively fighting the Hollow and were tremendously effective at it.”

“How did they pull a phoenix from the Obelisk?”

Claire raised an eyebrow, prompting a shake of Elmas’s head.

“They didn’t. The Obelisk is simply the only place that a phoenix has been observed for the last hundred and seventy years, because they are presumed to be extinct on Tonshlur itself.”

“How do you make something extinct when it can’t be killed?”

“Just because we can’t kill it doesn’t mean that the Hollow can’t, either.” Becky raised a finger. “The Hollow does a lot of things that should be impossible. Killing an immortal bird made of fire might be one of them.”

“Mizzari’s unicorns are another creature that appear to be immune to the corruption and actively fighting the Hollow, but any contact with them was lost after Kelopa was lost to the Hollow over a century ago. We don’t know if they’re still alive.” Elmas spoke solemnly.

“If the plan is to eventually return to Kelopa in order to find Vojemala’s workshop and Kadu, could we not use that opportunity to try and find out what happened to the unicorns?”

Nima stared, unblinking. Elmas sighed.

“There are a lot of plans for the future, but that isn’t the concern right now. Getting you lot stronger is. A lot of the activity from the Hollow seems to be directed southward, so you’ll be heading to the northern station for your deployment. Ideally, you’ll face nothing but Fodders for your first engagements with the Hollow.”

“But we’ve got the ultimate equipment of sex and destroy evil-ness,” Meghan chuckled. “Right in the storage units over there.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but we’re still level one, and have never fought the Hollow. I don’t wanna go hunting down a hydra for my first time.”

“Oh, come on! How bad could it be- ow!”

Meghan recoiled and held her side from where Claire had jabbed her elbow into it. The blonde looked annoyed.

“Are you actually serious right now? The last thing you ever want to say before anything happens is ‘how bad could it be’. That’s practically begging for everything to go wrong!”

“Says the girl who doesn’t like black cats and refuses to walk under ladders,” Meghan chuckled. 

“This isn’t superstition!” Claire whined. “Have none of you ever read a book? We’re going off on our very first deployment ever against the Hollow, and we all had to write letters to our loved ones just in case we don’t make it back. That alone is foreshadowing one-oh-one. If a character writes a letter that’s only meant to be read when they die, they’re practically guaranteed to die.”

Jasmine idly looked down to the two folded letters in her hands- one labelled ‘Dad’ and the other ‘Eris’. Ideally, she wouldn’t need to write one for Alex, since if something happened, they’d be together for it anyway. 

“You wrote letters too, Sparky,” Meghan giggled. “You already signed your own gravestone, so don’t get on my ass about it.”

“Well, when all the characters do the same thing, it counts less for their risk of tragedy,” Claire said. “If all of us write letters to our loved ones, then it’s only the people that don’t write letters who are going to die.”

Naturally, all eyes went to Nima, who had written nothing. She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand how the act of writing or not writing determines the likelihood of my death.”

“Well, if you say that only the odd one out dies, then shouldn’t we all start asking how bad it could be? Then we’d all be safe.” Meghan was poking Claire’s side, who only proceeded to bury her face in her hands.

“That’s not how it works. Please, for the love of the Seven, read a damned book.”

“I already did, because I stole one of yours. On the topic, I have to ask; is all of your dating knowledge based off of those smutty books you hide under your bed, because what we did the other night seems suspiciously similar to what Genevieve and Oskar did in Tusk Love-”

Jasmine couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as Meghan was unceremoniously silenced by Claire clapping her hands over the redhead’s mouth. However, all of them were cut off.

“Holy fuck…”

Jasmine glanced up to see Becky, still leaning over the back of her seat, staring out the window. Her brown eyes were affixed so securely on something outside that Jasmine felt compelled to look herself.

She wished she didn’t.

It was still a long ways away, Jasmine could tell that much. However, that didn’t stop Jasmine from seeing it. If anything, it only made it more visible on the horizon as the train turned a bend and brought it into view.

It was a twisting spire of black so absolute that it was almost hard to look at- like a single, jagged part of Jasmine’s vision didn’t exist. It was just an absence of light pure enough that it made the surrounding sky and clouds look almost blinding despite being dark grey thunderstorms. Actually, in a way, it did look like a bolt of lightning frozen in time, forking and arcing and dragging all the way down to the ground. Instead of a flash of light so bright that it lit up the sky, it was a fork of shadow so deep it may as well have been nonexistence itself. As it rose up and up and up and up, miles into the sky, it also branched outwards- the darkness making jagged tendrils that broke off from the main mass again and again and again and again.

They didn’t continue to reach upwards, however. At a certain point, the branches all seemed to stop amidst the heavy clouds but that was only where it got weirder. Instead of continuing to reach, the branches seemed to pierce and fracture the sky itself like a pane of glass. Every single one ended in a jagged, glowing, iridescent crack that spread across the sky and joined with other cracks to make it look as though the entire thunderstorm were about to shatter into a million pieces and let in the cascade of rainbow light held behind it.

And that was just the one. There were two others just like it, each stretching up in a spire of darkness to split open the sky. When Elmas’s voice peeked up from behind them all, even the experienced woman herself sounded shaken.

“Those are the trees of the Hollow.”

“Only three? That doesn’t seem that bad,” Meghan shrugged. Claire immediately whipped around.

“Can you fucking stop that?!”