Page 94 of Remnants: Disruption
We trace along the path I’d followed with Mary the day before, except the place is busy. Like they’d been hiding in deference to the woman herself.
“Let me begin with some background,” Bast says, and I can hear the hint of amusement in her voice. “In 100 A.D., this place was founded by a powerful being that we suspect was a survivor of the First Disruption. At the time it had only been a small mining tunnel that they hid out in. When they began to collect supernatural beings with exceptional powers, they included Remnants who were already finding themselves shunned by society.”
Bast gestures toward a larger complex at the furthest end of the U near the basin.
“Fast forward a few generations and Tempest became a conglomerate of underground groups whose sole purpose was the unification of the non-humans. That included Remnants, supernaturals, and anyone else who did not fit the status quo.”
“That seems far too altruistic,” I say, giving Bast a sideways look.
“Perceptive,” she chuckles. “Yes, the goal had been betterment, but the results had been death, murder, and general chaos. Then came Bloody Mary. And do not ask me what she is or where she came from. We do not even know her true name. We do not know the extent of her powers nor when she acquired them. But we know she is ageless, beautiful, and dangerous beyond belief. She is also a ruthless combatant and efficient leader. Our people love her and have died to protect this place she built.”
An unbidden chill traces down my spine. “You follow her without knowing a thing about her?”
“We follow her because she has always put us first. History may remember her as a villain, but she will always be our savior. After she wrested power from the cretins who called this place asanctuary, she collected what was left of the supernatural world. Across Nye Verden, our people work towards a world where we can walk free.”
“You’ll have to forgive me for not knowing much about the supernatural folk,” I say, giving her a depreciating huff of laughter. “We’re talking werewolves and vampires?”
“Werewolves, yes,” she tilts her elongated face towards me, “vampires, no. Dragon-kin, demon-kin, and other types of animal-shifters. We have some fae left, but their kind took a hit during the Disappearance. There are assorted others that do not really fit an archetype and, of course, Remnants.”
“Sorry,” I stop in my tracks, replaying her words, “you said demons?”
“Indeed,” I can hear the smile in her voice. “They are of the occult. They share a lineage with the mages we have, but you’ll learn more about that brand of magic from Azazel.”
“No vampires?” I ask, trying to keep up with the flow of information Bast seems more than happy to drop on me.
She finally slows and I worry for a moment if I said something wrong, but as she turns fully toward me, I can see the way her shoulders slump. No one visiting the shops along the road pay us any mind. Like it’s normal for one of their leaders to be taking a leisurely stroll.
“They existed. Anything known about them is conflicting at best. Whether or not they still live is the question,” her somber tone makes me wonder how recent this tragedy is. “That may be another question to ask Azazel.”
I nod, letting the topic drop.
We walk in a comfortable silence until she stops before a huge circular building with a rotunda over top. It sits near the meeting grounds, but far enough off that I hadn’t seen it yesterday.
“Are you one of the supernatural races?” I ask, turning to her.
She lets out a low chuckle.
“I am but a humble Remnant with enough cunning to remain alive. You will notice that many here have never been scanned by RISE. There is much power hidden beneath New Chicago. Though, I suspect you have the potential to be greater than any of them.”
“That’s what they keep telling me,” I mutter. “Thank you for the history lesson.”
“You are very welcome, Hiraeth. Be well and remember that you are on the right side. It may not feel that way at times, but revolutions have never been peaceful.”
“You said you’d be the only one to give me a straight answer,” I say, turning to her as she backs down the street. “Why?”
I hear what must be a sigh as she ducks her head before looking up at me.
“I fear Beowulf and Loki are powerful enough to question the God Queen’s authority without direct retaliation. They are dangerous and yet respected by their people. Azazel is cryptic by nature. The God Queen herself is tight-lipped.”
“And Morgana?” I ask, remembering the attractive red head.
“Bat shit insane,” she says with a definitive nod before turning without another word.
Chapter 39
Begin
November 4th, 1030 A.D., Afternoon
