08-30-2016, 06:59 PM
Armande looked at the entrance the girl had taken them to. A steel door hidden among brush and stone, the edge of the forest park lining the Kremlin. Over the trees he could see the tops of the palace and St. Basil's. She seemed to fumble with the door- it would have to be a mechanical lock, in case power was ever cut.
His anger was distant, like far off black clouds, periodic arcs of lightning and delayed thunderclaps in his belly. An energy suffused him from head to toe, seemed to echo along his limbs, anticipation at what was ahead. He looked at Barovsky as he watched her work. His eyes narrowed, a whiff of suspicion in the air. Martin had done well only giving her one weapon. If she was a casualty, well, that would be fine.
No matter. They were ready. He had planned ahead. He wore lightweight polymetalic chainmail armor and his telescoping blade at the hip. But the weapons for this would not be for up close. In addition a couple of guns, two ADDE shafts were at his hip as well, each the size of a medium sized flashlight. Infrared glasses were on his forehead at the moment, ready to let him to see any security detection systems. He carried a lightweight sack to hold the camera scramblers- set on autodetect at the moment- micro-drones with mini-ampules of sedatives and poisons, their controllers, and various other tools.
And the tablet itself. He had studied it, studied the instructions on the age ridden copper scroll, studied the tablet's writings themselves, until he knew the words by heart.
Once the door was open he motioned Aria and Martin back and pulled down the glasses and peered into the darkness. The glow of the beams were clear. Three of them. There was a trip there. He swung his head back to her, feeling satisfied. He pulled his pack and got out the redirects to keep the circuits complete while moving them out of the way. He would depend on the girl as little as possible.
Once inside, he motioned for them to follow silently and stand to the side and wait. He left the redirects on and the door opened, for now. Shifting the IR glasses back to his forehead, he got out the tablet.
Holding it in his hand, the feel of the smooth burnished copper, the weight of it, he felt his heart beat. The Ijiraq would be called forth from Erebus at his words. The thrill of it washed over him even as the lightning of anger still crackled in the distance. The last time this one was used was far move than ten thousand ago. He felt a kinship that he had never felt before, kinship for his brothers of so long ago. A part of him longed to have been alive back then. But now, now was the time. And he would lead humanity to freedom
. The lightning continued to strike, closer and closer, as if he were approaching a great power. The thunder seemed to pound in his ears, the anticipation growing with each breath. The power of the Atharim, it seemed to call to him. The millenia in between seemed to telescope and shrink to nothing, folding in on itself until then was now.
He held out the tablet and looked up at the sky.
He touched the carving labeled ml̥s-bhā-mo
and in a loud commanding voice, declaimed:
H<sub>a</sub>enǵʰ-ri egoh<sub>a</sub> su-judh<sub>e</sub>j-mi!!
Divine Hunter, I command you!!!
And then he waited. The sky was dark. The hum from deep in the tunnel and the distant traffic was all he could hear over his breathing. He strained, looking, seeking for a sign, but the deep night sky was only marred by grey clouds seemed to shine silver. Minutes seemed to tick by and he became aware of the two behind him. But he violently suppressed any feelings of foolishness. In his mind he ran through the routine. Perhaps his intonation had been off, his accent. No one had truly heard this language in thousands of years.
He tried again, holding his thumb on the carving, speaking loudly, adjusting his pronunciation. The tried to shorten some of the vowels and elongate others. The difference was subtle. And he waited.
And waited.
And watched. And then, for a moment, he looked back at Barovsky, feeling a sense of foolishness that this time he did not push away. It was not shame in front of Barovsky. Or perhaps not simply that. He felt a powerful sense of being let down. It had seemed so certain. So clear. Why had this failed?
The hand dropped to his side, thumb still on the tablet carving. He could feel the pulse there. The tablet itself felt warm. He lifted it again and looked at it and for a moment, the carvings seemed to blaze with fire, the words lit by a flame whiter than the sun. He stared at it in awe.
Then he looked up. There was a cloud, dark and silver reflecting, refracting some light from deep within, that emanated from it. The size of his hand, at this distance. And then it grew closer and closer even as it drifted and shifted about. The thunder in his chest pounded and he felt awe come over him. A smile threatened to split his face and blue fire burned like a furnace in his eyes.
It drew closer and seemed to...coalesce…until he could see the undulating shape of a man hovering above the entrance, slightly darkened areas seeming to indicate eyes. A voice like the swarm of million bees seemed to emanate from it and it filled his head, vibrating at a thousand different frequencies, the whispers shifting in and out of hearing and pitch, intonations different from what he had expected. But it was enough for him to piece it together.
Kei jedh<sub>a</sub>jode egoh<sub>a</sub> h<sub>a</sub>ésmi.
I am here to command
His anger was distant, like far off black clouds, periodic arcs of lightning and delayed thunderclaps in his belly. An energy suffused him from head to toe, seemed to echo along his limbs, anticipation at what was ahead. He looked at Barovsky as he watched her work. His eyes narrowed, a whiff of suspicion in the air. Martin had done well only giving her one weapon. If she was a casualty, well, that would be fine.
No matter. They were ready. He had planned ahead. He wore lightweight polymetalic chainmail armor and his telescoping blade at the hip. But the weapons for this would not be for up close. In addition a couple of guns, two ADDE shafts were at his hip as well, each the size of a medium sized flashlight. Infrared glasses were on his forehead at the moment, ready to let him to see any security detection systems. He carried a lightweight sack to hold the camera scramblers- set on autodetect at the moment- micro-drones with mini-ampules of sedatives and poisons, their controllers, and various other tools.
And the tablet itself. He had studied it, studied the instructions on the age ridden copper scroll, studied the tablet's writings themselves, until he knew the words by heart.
Once the door was open he motioned Aria and Martin back and pulled down the glasses and peered into the darkness. The glow of the beams were clear. Three of them. There was a trip there. He swung his head back to her, feeling satisfied. He pulled his pack and got out the redirects to keep the circuits complete while moving them out of the way. He would depend on the girl as little as possible.
Once inside, he motioned for them to follow silently and stand to the side and wait. He left the redirects on and the door opened, for now. Shifting the IR glasses back to his forehead, he got out the tablet.
Holding it in his hand, the feel of the smooth burnished copper, the weight of it, he felt his heart beat. The Ijiraq would be called forth from Erebus at his words. The thrill of it washed over him even as the lightning of anger still crackled in the distance. The last time this one was used was far move than ten thousand ago. He felt a kinship that he had never felt before, kinship for his brothers of so long ago. A part of him longed to have been alive back then. But now, now was the time. And he would lead humanity to freedom
. The lightning continued to strike, closer and closer, as if he were approaching a great power. The thunder seemed to pound in his ears, the anticipation growing with each breath. The power of the Atharim, it seemed to call to him. The millenia in between seemed to telescope and shrink to nothing, folding in on itself until then was now.
He held out the tablet and looked up at the sky.
He touched the carving labeled ml̥s-bhā-mo
and in a loud commanding voice, declaimed:
H<sub>a</sub>enǵʰ-ri egoh<sub>a</sub> su-judh<sub>e</sub>j-mi!!
Divine Hunter, I command you!!!
And then he waited. The sky was dark. The hum from deep in the tunnel and the distant traffic was all he could hear over his breathing. He strained, looking, seeking for a sign, but the deep night sky was only marred by grey clouds seemed to shine silver. Minutes seemed to tick by and he became aware of the two behind him. But he violently suppressed any feelings of foolishness. In his mind he ran through the routine. Perhaps his intonation had been off, his accent. No one had truly heard this language in thousands of years.
He tried again, holding his thumb on the carving, speaking loudly, adjusting his pronunciation. The tried to shorten some of the vowels and elongate others. The difference was subtle. And he waited.
And waited.
And watched. And then, for a moment, he looked back at Barovsky, feeling a sense of foolishness that this time he did not push away. It was not shame in front of Barovsky. Or perhaps not simply that. He felt a powerful sense of being let down. It had seemed so certain. So clear. Why had this failed?
The hand dropped to his side, thumb still on the tablet carving. He could feel the pulse there. The tablet itself felt warm. He lifted it again and looked at it and for a moment, the carvings seemed to blaze with fire, the words lit by a flame whiter than the sun. He stared at it in awe.
Then he looked up. There was a cloud, dark and silver reflecting, refracting some light from deep within, that emanated from it. The size of his hand, at this distance. And then it grew closer and closer even as it drifted and shifted about. The thunder in his chest pounded and he felt awe come over him. A smile threatened to split his face and blue fire burned like a furnace in his eyes.
It drew closer and seemed to...coalesce…until he could see the undulating shape of a man hovering above the entrance, slightly darkened areas seeming to indicate eyes. A voice like the swarm of million bees seemed to emanate from it and it filled his head, vibrating at a thousand different frequencies, the whispers shifting in and out of hearing and pitch, intonations different from what he had expected. But it was enough for him to piece it together.
Kei jedh<sub>a</sub>jode egoh<sub>a</sub> h<sub>a</sub>ésmi.
I am here to command