Misery's Engine

Across the settlement, the people went to work dismantling the structures, shattering the brick and concrete, leaving only ruin and rubble where there once stood great architectural designs. It began in the centre, where the buildings were tallest, with seismic explosives set off to render the ancient city to dust. 

The Noon Army was awake again and preparing to move. 

East, they would head, towards the last of remaining Corogan civilization. The pacifists would not be able to hold out long against the barrage of the fully mobilized gallow singers; machines built from the metal retrieved after the skin of this city was shaken off. Repurposed in the great forges within the Noon Army’s flagship vessel, the Avarice. 

In hours, not days, the siren will sound and the citizens of the Noon Army will join together in phalanx divisions and leave behind only those things they cannot carry. 

Not all adore the policies of the Noon Army. 

Esper Emmer is one of these people. 

“You can’t do this, General!” He’s made his way through the crowds to meet with the King of Dawn and the Queen of Dusk. He hopes they will be sensible. He hopes that they will listen. But the war machine has started up and the resonating sounds in the distance of buildings collapsing are hard to ignore. 

General Himmerman shakes his head, “go back to your laboratory, Esper. The Royals are busy planning our offensive.”

“Don’t you understand? I’ve figured it out! I know why the Noon Army marches!”

This catches Himmerman’s attention. 

“What do you mean by that?”

From under his arm, Esper pulls out a series of papers, lined with numbers and equations. A few are circled and these are the ones he points to.

“The Noon Army only goes to war when the sun is blocked by the moon, is that not correct?”

Himmerman’s interest falters, “of course. It is the will of the Day God. I see no reason for this outburst.” He motions for a few of the elite Light Guards to advance, prompting Esper to take a few cautionary steps backwards. 

“Look, I’ve been going over our old records. I think I may have discovered something… profound.” Esper gestures for the man to look at his sheets, eyeing the approaching Light Guards as he does. 

“To write is heresy, Esper. You are a stock counter. A stock counter.  We allow it only on the condition that this skill we have given you be used for our purposes. Has your master not properly instilled the fear of rejecting our laws and regulations. I could have you put to death at this very moment and I would be doing our great people a service.” He pauses. “Only, you are my kin and I am bound to our blood and to my sister. Go now, before the Royals hear you and force me to do something I will regret.”

“You aren’t listening, Uncle! This war mongering can end! I have proof – undeniable proof – that the eclipse is not a supernatural occurrence. It isn’t the Day God! It’s a cycle. A predictable cycle! We can –”

“Enough!” The doors behind Himmerman opens and the King of Dawn steps forward, his sword drawn. “You will come with me, immediately.” 

The General’s eyes widen and relax. “I tried to warn you.” He says to Esper as he passes.

Inside the Royal Assembly, the King finds his spot next to his Queen. Around them, in a spiralling circle of desks, sit the Council of Light.

“Tell us, Esper Emmer, what have you discovered in relevance to our God’s power? I listened as you spoke to General Himmerman, and if I am not mistaken, you told him you had discovered that the Black Moon is not a result of his desire for blood and conquest?” The King smiles. “Go on, tell us what you mean.”

“I spoke with some travelers that were here recently, a girl and some huge metal man, and they told me a different name for the Black Moon – an eclipse. They spoke of it as though it were a natural experience. They said it would come to pass days prior to the event, my King. I didn’t believe them at first, but I went to the Archive and referenced our war journals. The scribes had to translate, of course, but the numbers, when they came back, they showed a pattern.” 

“Numerologist…” The Queen considered. “But they have been dead since the Great Expulsion.”

“Nonsense! I will see you in the confessional, Esper.” The King motioned him towards a door in the corner. He obliged and followed again.

The King took his spot on one side of an ornate but worn table.

“I have to commend you.” He told Esper. “We are so very careful when it comes to knowledge, passing on only what we know will best support our people and our ways. That is how we’ve managed to enjoy decades upon decades of peace. And we live in peace between the periods of the Black Moon.” He drew a deep breath, “but, those of us who direct the Noon Army and its ideals, well… there is some allowance for knowledge to be passed on.”

The King’s smirk told Esper too much.

“You knew?”

“General Himmerman often spoke about the cleverness of his nephew, and I am in position to deny this claim, seeing what you have discovered and how quickly you rushed forward to tell others. On that note – who else knows what you have uncovered?”

“None! None other than me and the scribes that translated the old texts.” 

“And General Himmerman and his Light Guards, I suppose?”

“Yes, that’s all, I swear!”

“Good.”

Minutes later, the King left the confessional, alone.