In Harmony We Trust, Ryan Matthew Harker [rooftoppers .txt] 📗

four corners of the city, in the end some even passed remarkable close to the werewolf mounted goblins delivering the very treat these messengers attempted to deliver their people from. Refugees flooded the city in the thousands. Panicked and disorganized they sparked more panic in their city dwelling neighbors.
As the day passed with little progress made to blanket the palace with a protective shield, let alone the city and, with more people arriving from the country at every moment, Zakeriah had little choice but to begin evacuating the city into the palace. Mostly women and children were allowed through the palace gates but as in any emergency situation there were men of importance and men without honor that did what they could to survive. Not knowing with any certainty just when Harmony may attack also added to the strain the king felt and he had men patrolling the outlands in a continuous effort to ferret out any agents that the dark sorcerer might send.
Despite the gargantuan efforts made by the many mages, magicians, and technicians at the disposal of the royal house when the worst did happen they were sorely under-prepared for it. At approximately seven fourteen p.m., with the sun down, dark almost fallen and only the palace and a portion of the city covered by tenuous shields, a soundless explosion occurred that wiped out nearly a five hundred mile radius and sent shockwaves accompanied by a blinding flash of light for many more.
It was this brilliant light that Jeshux witnessed after he and his party had fled from the destruction of the Midnight Monastery.


It was nearly two weeks before Jeshux and crew sighted the city of Gontiluna, capital of Gonderlund. Jeshux had developed an increasing sense of unease as they got closer and closer to the city. He could not quite put his finger on it though and about three miles from the outlying township it finally came up in conversation.
“Is it just me or is something strange going on here?” Candlelite asked the Commander General as he pulled his horse up next to him.
“You’ve noticed it too?” Jeshux glanced around suspiciously.
Absinthe and Max rode up to where the two men were conversing.
“It’s so quiet,” Absinthe noted, nearly whispering to herself.
“Aye,” Max chimed in before he took a swig off of a small flask. “Where is everyone?”
Jeshux suddenly snapped his fingers, “That’s it! Max you’re a genius…”
“Naturally,” Max interjected.
“…there isn’t anyone around,” Jeshux continued. “There’s no one in the fields, no one on the roads, and no children, nobody.”
“You’re right,” said Candlelite. “Why didn’t we realize it sooner?”
“It’s just so strange,” said Absinthe. “We’re so used to the hustle and bustle of commerce and civilization that our senses just failed to register its absence.”
“So this now begs the question… where is everyone?” Max took another swig off of his flask, offered it around, and re-pocketed it when everyone politely declined.
“The question whose answer is worth a thousand pounds of gold,” Jeshux muttered. “And we all need to be double careful until it’s answered.” He then positioned everyone but Sefu within the middle of his eight mercenaries, the assassin he put out front flanked by two guards. Sticking close together they made their way through the deserted township.
Presently they made their way through the town and stopped in front of the open gates of the Citadel of Gontiluna. That the gates were open was not to be considered strange in itself for in times of peace it was always so and AnEerth had been in an almost constant state of tranquility for many centuries. What was strange however, was the absence of sentries. No matter the state of affairs in the world sentries were always posted and in the mage city of Gontiluna they were almost always soldiers of sorcery.
“Where are the guards?” Jeshux mused. “This is most irregular.”
“What next boss?” Candlelite inquired.
“We’re going in,” Jeshux answered and turned to the two mercs guarding Sefu. “You two, take the prisoner over to the gate house. I want you to stay here while we investigate.”
The two men saluted, “Aye, sir!” They led their captive’s horse over to the gate house.
“All right,” Jeshux clucked his horse into motion. “Let’s go. And remember, caution is the word of the hour.”
With the mercenary escort still surrounding them they made their way through the gate and slowly proceeded down the deserted street. Bits of trash drifted idly by, pushed by gentle breezes. The air carried the faint but unmistakable odor of decay, an underlying aroma of death that stalked the vigilant travelers. The horses seemed to sense something too and began to grow twitchy with unease.
“Something is really wrong here guys,” Absinthe stated, a hint of fear in her voice. “I can smell it.”
“We can all smell it sweetheart,” Max said dryly.
“Not like me you can’t,” she retorted sharply. “I can really smell it.”
“Stay calm Abbie,” Candlelite placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I can smell it too.”
Absinthe put her hand on his and tried to smile at him.
“What is it?” Jeshux asked.
“I don’t know Jeshux,” Candlelite inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring. “It’s a wrongness in the atmosphere. Something strange. Unnatural.”
“It’s alive,” Absinthe whispered.
“What do you mean, alive?” Jeshux peered around trying to catch a glimpse of anything. “Everything looks pretty dead to me.”
“No Jeshux,” Candlelite countered. “She’s right. I don’t quite get it myself but the air is definitely charged with something.”
“Magic?” Max asked.
“Maybe,” the young man answered.
The Citadel looked as if at any time it would come back to life. Everything was abandoned. Doors stood open, carts were left stalled in the street, and viewed through the open doors were tables with the rotted remains of meals still placed upon them. Everything sat as if everyone had stopped in the middle of what they were doing and just walked away.
Looking around Jeshux came to a conclusion. “That has to be it,” He said. “Magic is the only thing that could have caused this sort of desertion. Some of these people were in the middle of eating for Death’s sake!”
“Magic,” Candlelite and Absinthe both said at the same time and looked at each other.
Suddenly, as if they had crossed some sort of barrier, the horses went completely skittish. Nostrils flaring and eyes rolling wildly they refused to go any further. Some reared up in defiance while others back-stepped nervously.
“Whoa!” Jeshux called as his horse reared. Pulling the reigns as the powerful beast came back down on all fours he led the panicked animal backwards. “Get back!” he called unnecessarily to the others as they did the same.
As soon as they had backed them up a few paces the entire group of animals reverted back to their normal behavior.
“Well that was fun,” Max chortled and unstoppered his flask.
“Strange is a better word scientist,” Jeshux responded and this time he did take the flask. “We need to go on foot from here.” He gave the flask back to Max saying, “I think there was a stable back a little ways. Let’s take the horses and make them comfortable.”
After the horses were situated in the abandoned stable, happily munching on some of the semi-fresh hay they had found, the intrepid explorers, in the same formation as before, made their way back down the deserted street.
Once they passed the point where the horses had spooked Jeshux noticed that both Candlelite and Absinthe had gone a little pale and were hanging back slightly, seemingly hesitant.
“What is it?” he asked them. “What’s wrong?”
Candlelite managed a smile, “Nothin’ boss. We’re just a bit more primal than y’all. Seems that whatever hit the horses is affecting us too.”
“Are you going to be all right?” Jeshux asked.
“We'll be ok Jeshux,” Absinthe told him. “Don’t worry about us.”
“If you say so,” the merc leader did not sound entirely convinced.
“We say so,” Candlelite said evenly.
“Ok then, let’s proceed,” Jeshux gave the order to move out. Their goal was the Citadel Magiplex, the Gonderlund Mage Guild Hall. Jeshux reasoned that if they were going to find any clues as to what happened to the city and its occupants it would be there that they found them.
The guild hall was an immense structure located in the middle of the Citadel. Having been erected shortly after the Citadel had been founded it had gained its enormous size from experiencing centuries of additional construction. Magicians, sorcerers, sages, mages, and wise men from all over came to this esteemed place of learning to study and experiment in the arcane arts. After nearly seven hundred years the Gonderlund guild hall had attained a reputation as the foremost institute for training in and knowledge of magical lore. It was this reason that Jeshux found it hard to believe that the men who had consigned Sefu had been mages of Gonderlund.
Looking up the steep staircase that led to the massive double doors that made up the guild hall entrance all Candlelite could say was, “Wow!” Nearly a thousand stairs climbed sharply to a wide landing where four large and intricately carved pillars upheld the ornate overhang above the entrance. The entire building was a work of art with intricately carved stonescapes featuring dragons, werewolves, a Cyclops, and giants all being confronted by knights, wizards, warriors, and adventurers. There were kings and queens, forts and strongholds, and castles and palaces with spiraling towers and waving pennants.
“Double wow!” Absinthe echoed.
“Your people really don’t know how to do anything small, do they Jeshux?” Candlelite asked nervously and the merc’s answering grin reflected that nervousness.
Then from behind them came a loud crash followed by a clatter. Both Jeshux and Candlelite turned, drawing pistols and swords as they did so, along with the handful of mercs who also drew their weapons.
“What was that?” Max asked. The wizened little man had two large throwing knives at the ready, one in each hand. He had discovered a remarkable aptitude for hurtling the blades with surprising accuracy during his short stay at the monastery.
“Something smells dead over there,” Candlelite said indicating a small dark alley off to his left.
Jeshux gestured to two of his men, “Go check it out!” Without a word the two soldiers cautiously approached the alley and disappeared inside. A few minutes later they reappeared with one of them dangling a large rat by its tail.
“This is all we found, sir. There was also a barrel of garbage overturned back there.”
Candlelite sniffed at the small beast and shook his head, “Let it go. That’s not what I was smelling before.” He sniffed back in the direction of the alley. “Whatever it was, it’s gone now,” he verified.
Jeshux reslung his weapons, gestured for his men to do the same, and said, “Well let’s see if anyone’s home.” And then he turned and started up the stairs taking them two at a time.
Once the group had reassembled on the landing Jeshux ordered two men to stand guard outside the door.
“Detain anyone who approaches,” he told them.
“If anyone approaches,” Max said and chuckled. Jeshux glared at him.
“Just stay alert!” the Commander General told them.
“Yes, sir!” they made their weapons ready.
Jeshux led the rest of his group into the gloomy interior of the guild hall. Just inside the doors was a huge but short hallway finished entirely with a variety of antique wood. Rosewood, redwood, and ironwood stood out predominantly but interspersed throughout was also cherry, cedar, and maple which helped to create a pleasant pattern of subdued natural color. On the ceiling was painted an incredible and ancient mural of inspirational quality. The mural depicted two opposing mages bedecked in similar splendor obviously attempting to create their unique opinions