The Bitter Beginning, Chapter Five: The Arrival

Thit had never been more proud to be a soldier of Halite. Her company had been selected to proudly escort the Sodden Pontiff’s party into Feldspar. His three closest followers, known as the Three Clerics, accompanied the Sodden Pontiff. There was the Cleric of Rain, who preached equality for all who follow The Order, the Cleric of the Sea, who put an emphasis on prayer and miracles, and the Cleric of Rivers, who reminded the followers of The Order to stay the course, and maintain discipline. Hundreds of Drenched Priests also came along into the city. They made it their mission to preach on every street corner of Feldspar. Thit’s company was tasked to keep an eye on the locals, in the unlikely scenario that they felt the need to rebel against their own savior or any of his followers.

 “This city is beautiful, Thit!” said Hawn. Hawn was Thit’s bunkmate. She was a soldier from a small salt mining town on the outskirts of Halite. She was big, and stronger than Thit. She could easily throw down Thit during combat exercises. Thit always felt safer with Hawn at her side.

“It’s even more impressive than I had imagined,” said Thit. The entire city fit onto a giant bridge that was almost as wide as it was long. It was built with enormous stones that seemed impossible to move.

“Do you believe the story of this place?” asked Hawn.

“There are many stories of this place, which one do you mean?” asked Thit.

“The creation story!” said Hawn. “Look at these enormous stones,” she said, gesturing along tall the city walls. “It is said that the Great Creators built this bridge long long ago. Long before the first empire was established, even before our species was given the gift. Before our ancient ancestors even began walking on two legs, the Creators built this land for us.” Hawn gazed all around the city. “Could you imagine, Thit? Back when our species lived underground, only a queen could be fertile, and only a winged drone could procreate, giants roamed this land, creating wonders like this bridge, all for us!”

“Those are just stories, Hawn,” said Thit, dismissively. “I don’t know how this world was created, but I don’t believe that mystical gods, seventy times our size, created it.”

“You don’t believe in the Creators, Thit? Then who built this bridge, our ancestors?” asked, Hawn.

Thit shrugged. “Maybe they were stronger and smarter than we give them credit for. If these all-powerful, giant, intelligent Creators really did exist, then what happened to them? Where did they go?”

Thit’s question seemed to puzzle Hawn. It was as if she had never given the creator story any thought. “Maybe they moved away. Maybe they left during the rise of the first empire,” said Hawn.

“Maybe…” Thit decided not to engage Hawn in hypotheticals. “I only believe in one god, Hawn, and it’s flowing beneath the very bridge we’re standing on.”  

The bridge was built from white granite, stained brown and green with age. Most of the buildings were made of wood, mud, or a pink stone found locally. The city was organized into a clean grid pattern. Feldspar had a long history of warfare due to its prime location, and it was built to withstand a siege from any direction. Pink and green banners of Feldspar hung on almost every building in the city. They clashed with the blue and white banners of Halite as the Sodden Pontiff’s parade of almost a thousand made its way toward the city center.

In the middle of the bridge, in the exact center of the city, the Tower of Feldspar dominated the its surroundings. It was a tall and thin, yet very sturdy pink stone tower that spiraled upwards until it thinned to a sharp point. It looked like the twisted tip of a long spear. The Queen of Queens resided in the tower, and she was gracious enough to let the Sodden Pontiff and the Three Clerics into her tower for a welcome dinner. Tonight it was simply the four of them. Tomorrow would be the real negotiations with the Councilants involved. Thit didn’t trust the Councilants. She believed they could manipulate everyone around them, even the Queens.  

There was a strange mood in the city. It was festively decorated with banners, and colorful lanterns hung overhead in preparation of the nighttime festivities. Grasska was being sold on the streets to workers who wore their best clothes. Bards sang songs and musicians played along, but a lot of them seemed to show fake enthusiasm. The most powerful and important ants from all of the Empire and the coast were here, yet there was a feeling of sadness and unease.

Most of the workers along the streets stared at the Sodden Pontiff’s parade with harmless curiosity, casually sipping their grasska. Some looked more helpless than curious, like they were watching their city get conquered. A few simply frowned. They looked on at the parade with anger. The Queen of Queens died earlier that morning and Thit expected the inlanders to be upset, but this seemed different. There was a tension in the air that Thit was somehow able to feel. It was as if the coastals were not wanted in Feldspar. It seemed like the entire city held a welcome banner attached to a spear pointed at the Sodden Pontiff and his followers.   

“I think we need to stay alert here, Hawn,” said Thit. Hawn was still soaking in the city, but she paused to look at Thit. At first, Hawn looked at Thit puzzled, but then nodded in agreement.

The parade began to thin out as they neared the central tower. The Drenched Priests began to wander. Commander Vel instructed the company to pair off, make friends with the locals, and keep an eye on the Drenched Priests. The Sodden Pontiff and the Three Clerics took a small number of personal guards and went into the Tower of Feldspar. They wanted to be protected, but they didn’t want to show any suspicion either.

 Thit and Hawn paired up and headed toward a crowded open market nearby, where several Drenched Priests were already preaching. The market was crawling with merchants, drunks, shoppers, and Feldsparian City Watch. The two soldiers headed toward one corner where a priest had gathered a particularly large crowd. Thit adjusted her armor as they approached the crowd. She had been experiencing aches and pains all morning and into the afternoon. Her armor seemed tighter. She must have built up a lot of extra strength during the grueling march to Feldspar.

“It is the life blood of all of us!” boomed the Drenched Priest. “It flows through the middle of the Empire, right underneath us! It was once the heart of the Empire’s economy, but for too long we have taken this blessing for granted.” The priest’s voice calmed. “The drought was our punishment, but that wasn't enough. Our river not only lowered, but it became poisoned. Millions died. Thousands still suffer. The river below us is polluted because your Old Queens refuse to adapt to change! Your Queen of Queens is dead because she wouldn't accept The Order!” Thit tensed up. She thought the priest might have gone too far. A few ants left, but nothing else happened, and the priest continued on without hesitation. “Our savior, your savior, has found a new way to bring our great empire back to life again. He had a vision in his dreams, and our god showed him how to filter water through the rocks under the great salt shore! The drought and the poisoning of our river was indeed our punishment, and the miracle that the Sodden Pontiff himself performed is our chance at redemption! Follow him! Follow us! Follow the flow, The Order of the Holy Droplet!”

Thit scanned the crowd as the priest continued. She took a deep breath. Something was wrong. Her vision blurred. Her antennae began to twitch. A sharp pain struck her in her head. It was as if a lightning bolt snapped right through her. She heard an old voice. Hello? She almost collapsed right there in the market, but right before her legs gave in, all the pain went away, and she was back to normal.

“Thit?” asked Hawn. “Are you alright? What happened?”

Thit shook herself off. “I’m fine,” she said. Her vision slowly began to clear up again. She continued to look around the crowd, and a group of four ants caught her eye. Three older ants and a young one. They slowly headed into a pub on the other side of the market. “Look, Hawn,” said Thit, pointing across the market. “It’s Astor Gorzae, the last bird rider.”

Hawn’s antennae perked up. She strained her eyes in the direction that Thit pointed. “You’re right! It is!” said Hawn. “And that must be Zidney of Muscovite, and Strom of Galena along with him. Who’s the fourth one though?”

“I’m not sure,” said Thit. The fourth ant stood close to Astor Gorzae. He looked like a Royal Guard. He was dressed in the polished bronze armor with black and gold trim that all Royal Guards wore. At that moment, he took off his helmet with its black and gold plume. He held the helmet in his two lower hands, and massaged his head with his other two. The guard stood there for a bit, but then abruptly stopped massaging his head and caught Thit’s eyes from all the way across the market. After a brief moment of staring, he turned, adjusted the plate armor on his back, and continued on into the pub behind the Royal Councilants. Thit was taken aback by the Royal Guard’s stare. She also thought it was strange that only one of the Councilants deemed it necessary to be accompanied by his Royal Guard. It was stranger still that this particular guard was clearly not a soldier. He was small, though not smaller than an average worker. “Something about that guard seems suspicious,” said Thit. “We should investigate. See what they’re up to.”

Thit took a step toward the pub on the other side of the market, but Hawn grabbed one of her arms. “No, Thit. Our job is to watch over the Drenched Priests, not to go pester the Royal Councilants. What if one of the Priests gets assaulted while we we’re gone? Our Savior would not like to hear that.”

“The City Watch will protect them,” said Thit.

“Do you really believe that they will, Thit?” asked Hawn. “I don’t trust the City Watch of Feldspar, so I know you don’t. Besides, we don’t have any type of authority on Royal Councilants.” Hawn let go of Thit’s arm.

“But we do have weapons,” said Thit as she knocked the butt of her spear on the stone road.

“As does that Royal Guard,” said Hawn.

“He’s small.”

“That may be, but he may also be dangerous. Maybe there’s a reason it’s him following the Councilants and not a bigger soldier. And what do you plan on doing, anyway? Are you going to intimidate the Royal Councilants with your spear? How do you suppose they’ll respond to that?”

“You’ve heard the rumors, Hawn,” said Thit. “The inlanders are up to something.”

“I know, Thit. But we have to follow our orders. Our Savior has a plan, and showing our weapons to the Royal Councilants in a pub right now is not a part of that plan.”

Thit knew Hawn was right, but she still felt an urge to go into that pub. She did her best to fight that urge, and continued on with Hawn, patrolling the market, and checking up on the Drenched Priests. For close to an hour, Thit and Hawn wandered around the market, and the surrounding roads. Things seemed calm. They had a couple friendly encounters with the City Watch, and even more encounters with Halitian soldiers from their own company. There was still a tension in the air, but it seemed like nobody was willing to act.  Thit and Hawn arrived at almost exactly where they started in the market. The Drenched Priest nearby was now having a personal conversation with those who stuck around.

All the ants in the market seemed at ease, until Thit spotted one ant running quickly. He ran right past Thit and Hawn. Thit watched him run toward the pub, where she noticed there was a commotion. A crowd gathered around the entrance. A lot of shouting was coming from inside. More ants began to run toward the pub. Thit tensed up. So did Hawn. Suddenly, one ant burst out of the entrance and limply fell onto the pavement outside. Two more ants walked out. One had a knife. Then the fighting began.