Salvage Union: Floodplain Part Five

It was a cold, slate grey day the morning they killed the Emperor and his Inner Council.

There had been a light rain the night before. The two of them awoke to a layer of slick dew on all of their possessions. Nia busied herself with mopping it up as Argenta set up the mortar, loaded the munition. She whistled as she did her preparations. The noise made Nia's hair stand on end.

The wind was measured. The sight lines were ranged. The mortar was loaded and ready to fire. Her goddess smiled. "It'll be over soon. I promise. Do you want to fire, or should I?"

Nia didn't say anything.

She looked at the cold sky, the clouds washed out like filthy snow. She felt the wind find no purchase on her numb fingertips. She thought about the kick of the shotgun against her chest, all of the dead between the Temple and this point. She licked her lips and tasted the past few dinners from memory.

Her voice was quiet. "I'll do it."

Her goddess' voice was surprised. "You will? You don't have to. You called me, I answered. I can take responsibility."

Nia shook her head, extended her right hand. "It's okay. I think I have to."

Her goddess didn't protest. She handed over the little box with the round button, placed it in Nia's hands.

The initiate stared up at the sky as she pressed the button.

There was a dull thud from the hillside. A whoosh. The sound of something screaming through the air. A smothering silence, then the roar of winds rushing forward to fill an absence, a ringing in her own ears.

When she looked at the Council's stronghold, there was nothing left. Nothing at all. Most of the imperial city remained, but there was a crumbling hole where the throne of the Emperor once stood.

A crumbling hole and distant wails.

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