The Way of Lucherium

Chapter 1

The House

“It was dark, and not the sort of dark one finds while walking through the dimly lit causeways of a run-down city, or even the darker sort of dark one encounters when alone in the countryside at night. This was a different sort of dark altogether. It was the kind of dark that, rather than being merely the absence of light, seemed to suck the spark out of every luminous soul it enveloped. It was the perfect sort of dark for the mission at hand: the death of a treasonous man.”

Or so wrote the bard, Geoffrey of Trastaluche, who was feeling both very out of place and rather important as he crouched behind the thick stone wall that separated this particular street and its inhabitants from the rest of the middle city. Geoffrey had been invited along due to his unswerving loyalty to the ideals of Trastaluche, as well as due to his prominent position as the youngest member of the Committee of Spectacles. His task was to stay strictly out of the way and to record with meticulous detail the events which were about to transpire. Normally his presence on such a mission would have been egregiously illegal; operations such as this were best performed secretly, silently, and with the utmost precision, which meant the least amount of outside involvement. However, the recent rise in unrest and rebellion during the previous two seasons had been anything but normal. Thus, the head of the Committee of Social Order thought it wise to remind the commonwealth of the disastrous effects which resulted from the operations of those who sowed discord throughout Spiraluche, the central city of the immensely prosperous nation of Trastaluche, and of the heroic and immensely necessary role of the Committees in eradicating such maladies and restoring peace and progress to all. Having a prominent bard along who could witness the successful completion of a dangerous mission against the Enemies of Trastaluche and then publicly recite what he had seen in the form of an epic ballad seemed to be an ideal way to accomplish such a goal. Geoffrey had been suggested, vetted, and approved, and a fortnight later found himself squatting in the center of a band of roughly a dozen men, all of whom were silently preparing their armaments for whatever might lay ahead.

Geoffrey had seen the official declaration for the mission at hand earlier that day, emblazoned across the top of the scroll drawn up and authorized by the Committee of Social Order. It had read: “the restoration of peace through the termination of the person, relatives, and possessions of Xavier, designated as a primary enemy of the Trastaluche, its citizens, and its Committees.” As he scanned the reports which had been secretly gathered against the man Xavier, Geoffrey found himself unsurprised that he had been discovered to be a traitor. Xavier seemed exactly the type of person that one would expect to engage in activities against Trastaluche and its Committees. Father of four and owner of a small shop which sold mostly dried goods and sewing materials, Xavier had not only never amounted to much, but he had also never seemed to care. It was the apathy that had first tipped off the Committee of Social Order: as cluelessly simple as Xavier might seem, he was no fool. His shop was consistently packed with eager customers, and he was well-liked and well-respected by his neighbors. Thus, the fact that he had turned down a prestigious position within the Committee of Ways and Means, the sort of position any sane member of the commonwealth would jump at the chance of having, was practically an indictment in itself as to where the shop owner’s loyalties might lie.

Covert surveillance of Xavier’s doings and goings, as well as that of his family, quickly proved what had already been suspected: the allegiance of the shop owner and his family to Trastaluche and its Committees was not just apathetic, or even nonexistent; it was downright treasonous. Word was spread, orders were drawn up, and arrangements were quickly made for the execution of an armed raid, sanctioned by none other than Trastivo, Head of the Committee of Progress and Lord of Trastaluche himself, to be carried out by a small group of the Committee of Social Order’s most influential Ministers with the purpose of the capture or termination of the persons of the Family Xavier. Such raids were unpleasant but necessary functions of the Committees, as Geoffrey very well knew. Acts of treason against the commonwealth of Trastaluche, such as those in which the Family Xavier were engaged, were widely known to be the cause of much of the disharmony and decay now found in Spiraluche and its six sister cities. Geoffrey leaned back on his haunches, reflecting on an epoch, now nearly a hundred years past, when such traitorous acts had not just been isolated incidents of rebellion against the power of the rulers of Trastaluche and their supporters, but rather had been part of a full-scale assault against the equilibrium and quietude now solidified by the Committees.

Not quite a century ago, the nation of Trastaluche was known under a different name, Hazcaluche, and it was governed by a being referred to only in Geoffrey’s time as the Lord of Oppression, founder of the land of Hazcaluche and orchestrator of each and every happening within it. Although the residents of Hazcaluche had enjoyed a relative era of peace and prosperity under his rule, it had come at the terrible cost of predetermined occupations, stagnated development, and constant conformation to the OverLaw: a stifling set of decrees declared and enforced by the Lord of Oppression and his servants. The OverLaw had not only dictated every facet of the lives, workings, and goals of the citizens of Hazcaluche, but through it the Lord of Oppression had also placed the strictest regulations upon the harnessing and use of the mystical energy Lucherium, source of all power, development, and progress in Hazcaluche. It was not until Trastivo, creator and ruler of the Committees, had rebelled against the Lord of Oppression, covertly teaching himself and a small band of followers the secrets to harnessing the full power of Lucherium, that true progress became possible for the people of Hazcaluche. With the explosion of their newfound powers, which transformed them into some of the most powerful beings imaginable (and which, it was whispered, made them virtually immortal, although Geoffrey did not personally believe it), Trastivo and his followers overthrew the Lord of Oppression in the great War of Liberation, reducing his palace to ruin and driving his armies eastward into the mountains. With the collapse of his reign, Hazcaluche, renamed Trastaluche under the benevolent guidance of Trastivo and the Seven Committees, had embarked upon an era of true growth and progress. Its borders had tripled, its wealth and prestige had expanded, and most importantly of all, each citizen was able to choose to pursue whatever work they desired and to seek prosperity in any way they felt beneficial, provided they continually observed the guidance of the Committees and most especially the motto of the Trastaluche: Progress Before All.

Geoffrey’s own defeat of the illustrious poet Ivan four seasons ago in his bid for membership on the Committee of Spectacles and his continual re-appointment to that position were due to the improvements implemented by the Committees, improvements which had benefitted Geoffrey in ways he would not soon forget. Unfortunately, not every citizen was as quick as he to recognize the benefits of the Committees of Trastaluche. In the years after the fall of the Lord of Oppression, dissenters and those loyal to the path of the OverLaw were not uncommon, but many had been rooted out and destroyed by the followers of Trastivo. However, such unrest was on the rise once again, and with a rather unpleasant trend, if you believed the rumors.

Although most treasonous households were eliminated quickly by the elite bands of Ministers of Social Order whose mastery of Trastalucherian battlefare made resistance futile, there had been some isolated breaks of pattern. The reports were few, varied, and incredibly vague, and their discussion was prohibited by the Committee of Spectacles. However, as a chief bard, Geoffrey had an ear to the ground, and he figured that he had heard as complete of an account of what had happened as anyone outside of Trastivo’s inner circle of advisers.

The reports he had heard both scared and confused him: in a handful of situations, the result of the raids had been the complete disappearance and seeming obliteration of not only the household designated for elimination, but also their house, their possessions, and the entire band of Ministers sent out to deal with them. In other words, no one knew what had happened, and no one was left around to figure it out. Speculation abounded about the presence of some new type of Lucherium or even of the imminent return of the Lord of Oppression, but no official explanation had been offered by any Committee. The most common rumors, however, centered around the presence of a Conexio, an ancient, almost magical defense which did in fact still exist. It was a sort of invisible shield, composed of a rare blend of Lucherium and the unified mindpower of the group or family that had woven it, and its impenetrability grew or shrank in proportion to the uniform intentions of its composers. In other words, the more united a family was in their purpose, the stronger and more powerful the Conexio which surrounded their home. It had been a common phenomenon in the days of the Lord of Oppression, Geoffrey knew, as most families were more or less unified in their efforts to comply with the OverLaw. Oh, divisions had existed of course; few shields of any type are completely impervious. Still, in general most families possessed one in some style or fashion.

With the establishment of Trastaluche and the liberation of true individual Progress, the use of such defenses had faded into memory and legend. The OverLaw’s binding restraints were lifted, and communal adherence had been replaced by the development of new and more lethal weapons. These days, Conexios were only to be found in two places: encircling the meeting places of the most loyal and powerful members of the Committees or surrounding the dwellings of the most despicable groups of dissenters. And the Family Xavier was one such group, or so Geoffrey had been told by the Committee of Social Order. They were so united in their efforts to resist and destroy the Trastalucherian way of life that their Conexio was one of the strongest the Committee members had ever encountered. It would have been nigh impossible to enter the house, Geoffrey was assured, save for one weak link that had been woven deep into the family’s shield without their knowledge.

One of Xavier’s sons, Vincente, had for some time now been sympathetic to the Committees and the true Trastalucherian way of life. He had been observed frequenting meetings of the Committee of Progress and was known to be intelligent, ambitious, and perfectly willing to sacrifice whatever was around him to achieve his desires. His leanings of loyalty had been encouraged with promises- and quite valid ones at that- of positions on Committees, of connections, and of glory, and Vincente, young and full of desire, had almost completely returned to the way of Trastaluche. Whether or not he realized it, he had provided the loophole needed to gain entrance to his family’s dwelling place, leaving a gaping tear in the house’s defenses, which were invisible to the naked eye but starkly obvious to those skilled in the Trastalucherian ways of battlefare and the harnessing of Lucherium. He was to be richly rewarded, Geoffrey knew, if upon learning of the extent of his family’s treachery he freely rejected them and swore allegiance to the Committees of Trastaluche. In fact, if he recovered from the shock of the night which lay ahead and landed on his feet, he might be expected to do quite well for himself. The others, the bard reflected grimly, would not be so lucky tonight.

The all-encompassing darkness, coupled with the armor his companions wore, meant it was difficult to discern the faces of those around him. But Geoffrey knew that somewhere nearby crouched at least two senior Members from the Committee of Social Order, several of the Elite Guard which served directly under Trastivo’s command, and a half a dozen highly dependable soldiers who in peacetime functioned as keepers of Social Order throughout the city. All of these men were experts in Trastalucherian battlefare, and at least two of them- those who were senior Members- were more than capable of harnessing enough Lucherium to level a house such as this on their own. Each of the soldiers was armed with the traditional combination of a long, curved sword of pale steel and a round heavy shield characteristic of Trastalucherian battle gear, while the Committee Members were dressed in dark robes and grasped ornately carved staves. They were a force to be reckoned with, and perhaps the most powerful which had ever been assembled for such a routine task. The Conexio would still pose some trouble, Geoffrey knew; even with the weakness caused by Vincente’s deviance, it was still quite possibly the most complete the Committees had encountered in several seasons. That was one reason so many elite members had been summoned for tonight’s mission. The other was the complication he had contemplated in earlier hours: the problem of the disappearances of the targeted and of those doing the targeting in the previous, unresolved cases. It was becoming a thorn in the side of the Committee Chiefs, and they had determined it would not happen again.

The directive was simple. Breach the home’s defenses, enter as quickly and quietly as possible, eliminate Xavier and any others who might resist, detain the others for questioning by the Committee of Social Order, gather anything which might incriminate Xavier, his family, or any of his acquaintances, and fade silently back into the darkness.

The night dragged on as the hour for execution inched nearer, and the already soul-sucking blackness grew ever darker. Finally, when Geoffrey was unable to make out even the parchment upon which he wrote and the hand that held his quill, and all that remained visible was a dimly flickering lantern hanging in front of the House of the Family Xavier, the word was given: it was time to move. Geoffrey gathered up his quill and parchment and began to creep, as he had been earlier directed, up a crumbling portion of the wall behind which they had been crouched and on to its narrow upper ledge. From there he could observe and account for all the goings-on of the night. As he reached his perch, a sliver of moon slid out from behind the heavy, rain-laden clouds which pressed upon the earth, and Geoffrey was able to see, albeit unclearly, the scene which unfolded before him.

Below and to the right, not more than twenty paces away, the house of the Family Xavier was nestled between two ancient oak trees and guarded by a smaller, but equally aging stone wall which ran along the opposite edge of the cobblestone road directly below the bard. In the waning moonlight, Geoffrey could scarcely discern the movement of the raiding band; with ghost-like skill they wafted across the road and over the wall, fanning out around the residence until they stopped barely five paces from it.

They had arrived at the shield which surrounded the house, Geoffrey realized. He watched as Samesh, one of the senior members of the Committee of Social Order and leader of the night’s raid, strode forward and, with his arms outstretched, began muttering incantations in a low, harsh tone. The wind, growing ever stronger, began to whip in Geoffrey’s face, bringing tears to his eyes and snatches of the verses to his ears. The words grew harsh and fast, and suddenly the air itself seemed to catch fire, and there appeared around the house a sort of webbed dome, fashioned out of strands of a mysterious energy, a lightning of greens and blues and pinks blending together and vibrating intensely which danced and hovered in the night sky around the house. Geoffrey, who had never seen anything of this sort before, was stupefied. The Conexio was as well-made as it was beautiful, and he wondered if the Committee of Social Order had made a mistake in assessing the loyalties of the son Vincente. Yet even as such treasonous thoughts formed in Geoffrey’s head, he saw the opening: a strand of webbing which throbbed not with the pale rainbow of the rest of the family’s tendrils, but with a dark, glaring orange, so completely out of place that Geoffrey wondered how it did not tear itself away from the rest of the shield. It was a more than adequate weakness for the assailants.

As the flaw was made apparent, the second senior Member of Social Order stepped forward to join Samesh, and raising their staves high, they began to unravel the foreign strand, drawing it out into a pulsating orb which illuminated the entire street with a garish, orange glow. It hovered above their heads, growing ever more engorged with its own power, until, having completely separated from the Conexio, it dissipated with a flash and a shower of writhing red flame. Within seconds, the rest of the shield began to waver and fade in potency. A gaping hole appeared in its side, and the band of loyal Trastalucherians wasted no time in pouring through it and converging upon the house.

From then on, Geoffrey could only catch an occasional glimpse through the loosely curtained windows of the home, but he had a fairly certain idea of how this sort of scenario played out...