Devil Theory Extract

Peter Ingham Extract about 11,000 words
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DEVIL THEORY
By Peter Ingham
©Peter Ingham 2010

Ingham / Devil Theory / 2
Contents
Devil Theory .................................................................................................................................................. 1

By Peter Ingham ........................................................................................................................................ 1
Part 1 ......................................................................................................................................................... 3
Chapter 1....................................................................................................................................................... 4
Chapter 2..................................................................................................................................................... 16
Chapter 3..................................................................................................................................................... 27
©Peter Ingham 2010

Part 1
The pillar sat there defiantly in the ground, immovable, unshakable, a tangible
Obelisk of the divine that never asked for your faith, it demanded it. And you had no
option to comply, because it’s all that you know, all you’ve been taught, drummed into
your consciousness so much it had burrowed deep into your sub-conscious and became
a base instinct, a bad habit. It was your drug; it could impart the greatest state of
euphoria or the deepest sense of despair on a whim. Love, hate, fear, loathing, life, and
most importantly death, all rolled into one.
-Ardent Drecht
©Peter Ingham 2010

CHAPTER 1
Ardent stared down from atop the hill, his faced curled in judgemental disgust at the
army of people gathered around the Obelisk. It was their third and final „time of
benediction‟ for today. The huddled masses grovelled before the monolith and began a
chant with hypnotic cadence. The mantra reached its crescendo as a man clad in a black
robe; the hems stained in bloody silk, appeared from within the tower and walked out
with his arms extended wide to address the fervid crowd.
“Welcome, my brothers and sisters” Exclaimed the man in black, his eyes wide with
menace.
A guttural snarl escaped Ardent‟s throat as he turned his head and spat on the floor.
“Pawn”
The man in black paced frantically down one side of the crowd to the other, his
actions becoming more intense as he fed off their heightened state of rapture. It was
what they did best, what they were born and bred for. „They‟, were Speakers, the mouth
of the Obelisk, the middle-man between the grovelling, huddled, scared mortal and the
staunch, expansive, fearless towers. And he loathed them almost as much as he loathed
the Obelisk. Almost as much, because Ardent‟s pragmatism took over his disdain for the
Speakers, because, after all, they were mere pawns, the puppet master always pulled the
strings.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“A dark veil has fallen upon our fair and humble city my loyal worshippers.” The
Speaker proclaimed. “There are people who would try and destroy our faith, steal away
our hopes and dreams for their own selfish agendas.”
The crowd let out gasps and wails, vocalising their shock and despair, whispering to
each other hurriedly, trying to discern what the Speaker could mean. But, before they
could decipher his cryptic words, the Speaker thrust an accusing finger out into the
crowd. The digit drew a line in the masses, almost as if coming into its focus would be
like a knife in the recipient‟s chest.
“Someone in this very audience was responsible for helping a group of Saladinian
sneak into this city; a city that offers every man, woman and child salvation, if they
truly desire it. Now tell me dear brethren why would someone try to destroy all that we
have worked for?”
The gasps and wails from before had now become more visceral snarls and shouts of
outrage and disgust. The crowd were straining forward but their advances halted at an
invisible mark in the ground, not daring to edge any further forward. Then, when the
Speaker saw that he had brought his audience to a state of climax, he turned to face the
Obelisk.
“Great tower, mark out this traitor, so that we may exact your just and fitting
punishment.”
The crowd fell into silence as they exchanged accusational stares; everyone here
was a heretic until the Speaker proclaimed otherwise. A few seconds past, the tension
sealed the masses throats and constricted their muscles, the apprehension gnawing at
©Peter Ingham 2010

their insides. After what seemed like a lifetime of waiting a beam of light shot forth
from the tower and pinpointed a middle-aged man in the crowd. It appeared as if the
finger before had painted the accused in an undetectable ink that only he and the
Obelisk could distinguish.
“The tower has passed judgement” Cried the Speaker, “bring him to the altar!”
The man tried to fight off the encroaching fanatics but to no avail. Five men carried
him to the altar in front of the Obelisk and restrained him on the stone. He struggled for
his life but could not shake off his attackers. The Speaker methodically approached the
traitor and the volume of the crowd increased, to which he revelled in.
“The tower has identified you as the traitor amongst us, what do you say to this?”
The traitor attempted to spit at the Speaker but his aim was slightly off, however the
blow he abruptly received would have been no less powerful whether it had hit its
intended mark or not. A sinister smile crept its way onto the Speaker‟s face as he took
vicarious satisfaction in the broken form before him.
“Well, I see that you do not contest the accusation. Judgement shall be swift then, be
thankful for that at least.”
The Speaker thrust his arm vertically into the air, doing so caused a tenebrous blade
to materialise from nothingness. The appearance of the blade sent the crowd into
hysterics, for this was a punishment that was not often seen. He held his arm aloft for
several seconds, bringing the tension to breaking point. Ardent knew what was to come.
The Speaker brought his arm down in a swift arc sending the blade careering into the
traitor‟s chest. Blood spewed forth from his mouth, which choked, and then eventually
©Peter Ingham 2010

drowned him in the crimson liquid. The crowd burst into cheers, rejoicing in the
traitor‟s death. The Speaker lapped it up hungrily.
“Justice has been delivered!” He proclaimed.
The crowd cheered even louder, but then the Speaker began to wave his hands,
gesticulating for his attentive audience to quieten down.
“That is not all the justice that we have to execute today though.”
Again the audience scanned each other with accusing glances.
“Bring out the Saladinian prisoner”
The Speaker looked to his left and the audience followed his gaze as two guardsmen
led a prisoner clad in robes toward the altar. The guardsmen pulled the robe off of their
captive showing them to the eager crowd. The Saladinian prisoner was an athletic, olive
skinned female with shoulder length silver hair. She was clothed in a sandy yellow
outfit that wrapped itself around her body like leathery tendrils.
“Behold.” The Speaker announced. “A surviving Saladinian from last night‟s attack,
we have saved her especially for judgement this day”
*---------------------*
Ardent could tell from the erratic movements of the crowd below that this prospect
had excited them even more than the traitor. The Saladinian were an ancient warrior
race, expected to be extinct in most parts of the world by the aggressive armies of the
human race with a tendency to kill what they did not understand. But the human race
were not wholly to blame for it was Obelisks‟ doing, it had provided them with a means
©Peter Ingham 2010

to eradicate the Saladinian, like a virus that would target their race alone. For they were
the only real threat that the Obelisks‟ had to deal with, because they were the only race
that were unable to be taken under its control. Armies had risen to eradicate the people,
causing them to live like hermits, hidden away in the last vestiges‟ of their homeland.
Anyway, it didn‟t matter, she‟d be dead soon. He began to walk towards the Obelisk.
*---------------------*
The Speaker now stood in front of the altar with his prisoner lying prostrate before
him. Again he raised his hand in the air, and again the blade materialised out of
nothingness. It didn‟t stop at just one this time though, another blade appeared, and then
another, and another, the process repeating itself until five blades hung in the air like
fanged teeth.
The crowd held their breath in anticipation of the prisoners impending doom. The
Speaker looked around eagerly, not wanting to disappoint. His arm lurched downward
to complete the arc but faltered halfway as a giant shockwave surged through the
ground.
The Speaker‟s gaze tore away from the prisoner and towards the Obelisk. There,
atop the towers highest point stood Ardent.
Ardent‟s right hand worked furiously inscribing the runes upon the Obelisk. Once
the inscription was complete, he thrust his palm into the centre symbol causing blue
veins of light to course through the tower. Multiple explosions lambasted the structure,
©Peter Ingham 2010

spitting out chunks of dark rock onto its worshippers. Ardent continued to hold his hand
steady but was interrupted as black dagger shot past him, slicing his face. The Speaker
down below locked eyes with Ardent and rapidly loosed another volley of daggers. He
nimbly side stepped out of the way but was caught off guard by a blade that burrowed
into the stone below him, stealing his footing.
The satisfied Speaker turned round to once again address the panicking masses.
“Be still followers of the tower, order has been restored.”
The chaos slowly dissipated into semblance of order once more and the grovelling
structure once again aligned itself.
“Let us continue with the execution”
*---------------------*
Ardent toppled over the edge of the Obelisk and began his long descent to the
ground. Chagrin rather than panic stung his gut, as he dug his hand deep into the tower,
using the friction that ensued to slow his momentum down. He landed safely on the
ground several seconds later and shook his slightly sore hand out of habit rather than
necessity. Ardent could still hear the voice of the Speaker from around the opposite side
of the Obelisk and wasted no time in making his way toward him.
*---------------------*
©Peter Ingham 2010

Once again the Speaker took on his role as judge, juror and executioner, and once
again the blades loomed over the prisoner. The Speaker‟s hand shot up.
“We shall skip the last words Saladinian”
However this time the Speaker did not even get chance to begin his arc downwards,
for there was no forearm to do so. The blades dissipated into the air and the Speaker
collapsed on the ground in agony, clutching his lost appendage as blood jettisoned onto
the cold stone. The guards turned to face Ardent, weapons held low as they encircled
him. They needed no instruction on what course of action to take; only death awaited
traitors and heretics. Feral growls would soon be accompanied by flourishes of steel and
the cacophony of grinding metal.
Ardent saw the men the approaching as he extended his left hand out to his side.
After a few seconds an ebony long sword disgorged itself out of the void and Ardent
grasped the tangible handle. The guards beset him simultaneously and Ardent brought
his sword up to parry the left guard‟s overhead strike and then dodged quickly to the
side to evade the second guards thrust. Balling his fist he struck the right guard square
in the jaw, downing him instantly, and then twisted to knee the other in the crotch,
bowling him over.
The Speaker rose shakily and withdrew a blade from within his seemingly infinitely
shadowed sleeve and thrust the tip accusingly toward Ardent.
“I don‟t think that will help you much.” Ardent said as he leisurely approached the
altar. He stole a quick glance at the masses as they stood in shock all but a stone‟s throw
©Peter Ingham 2010

away. They were either playing it smart and thinking it wise that someone more capable
deal with him, or they were most probably playing it scared. Either way worked for him.
The Speaker shot him a sinister glare. “It will help me accomplish what was
commanded of me today.” He spat at Ardent, his animosity pluming saliva into the air.
“Is it really worth your life though?” Ardent reasoned.
The Speaker let out a bestial growl and turned around raising his good arm up,
attempting to complete the execution. Ardent dashed forwards and swung his blade
fiercely at the Speaker, the sword however did not strike flesh and bone; it connected
with something much harder, causing the blade to shudder. The Speaker had been
replaced by a stone replica, stuck mockingly in the same pose. Ardent went immediately
on the defensive, turning around sharply to face the Obelisk. There, fifty feet in the air,
hovered the Speaker.
“Well done. It would seem you have what you want. For now.” The Speaker
shouted.
“What‟s the matter? Can the tower not protect you from me?” replied Ardent.
The Speaker curled his lip and then slowly floated backwards, absorbing himself
into the tower.
“Kill him!” The Speaker‟s voice rang out, amplified by the structure.
Ardent looked quickly around, taking stock of the situation. He snapped his fingers
and the runes inscribed on the tower shone and sparked to life, eating at the structure. It
wouldn‟t stand for much longer. The enraged masses began to approach the altar, some
armed with primitive clubs and knives. Time to go I think. Ardent ran up to the altar to
©Peter Ingham 2010

gain the higher ground. Damnit, they’re closing in. His back was now against the altar,
time was running out.
“Help me” A voice pleaded from behind him.
Ardent looked around; surprised to see the prisoner awake and struggling on the
altar. “I don‟t need any dead weight.”
“Please,” She said “I can help you find another Obelisk, I know the location”
“What makes you think that I need your help?”
“Because without me you won‟t be able to get past Sentinel”
Ardent narrowed his brow and stared at the prisoner. He would have to make a
decision. Angry mobs moved awfully quickly.
After a few seconds of procrastination he rushed over to untie the restrained
woman. He put her over his shoulder and looked around for an appropriate escape route.
The mob failed to disappoint as they promptly had him surrounded, cutting off all the
exits.
*---------------------*
Ardent frantically looked around, scanning the area with a pinpoint precision,
looking for any opening. Seeing no other options, Ardent turned to face the altar again;
he bolted towards it and used it as a platform to dive into the sea of people. He sprinted
across the makeshift walkway unsteadily, using the cultists‟ shoulders and heads as
impromptu stepping stones until he managed to land on the other side of the crowd.
Ardent ran up the hill towards the exit of the subterranean city, where a tiny portion of
moonlight could be seen struggling to filter through.
©Peter Ingham 2010

The army likewise followed Ardent, their path more straightforward than his, for he
made his escape by the cities level rooftops at a furious pace. Pieces of tiled roofing
cracked and broke under the powerful thudding of his boots. The woman didn‟t slow
him down much, the biggest inconvenience was the extra weight he now carried on his
right side. This proved a problem when attempting to dodge the primitive projectiles the
fanatics hurled at them. One had grazed his temple in mid air as he bounded from the
top of a shack onto the side of the mountain path. The pain wasn‟t a problem; however,
the blood that was now blurring his vision wasn‟t doing him any favours.
The screaming of the mob became no less thunderous as Ardent crested the cities
hill and a quick steal back at them showed that amazingly, they were keeping somewhat
of a pace with him. The air became slightly cleaner and more refreshing but with the
fanatics still in tow he would have had trouble finding the time to savour it.
He‟d have plenty of time if-no-when, they got out.
The mouth of the exit drew ever closer, it squatted, teasingly like a monsters maw
with sharp stalagmites for teeth, the only kind of monsters maw you actively wanted to
run straight in to. As the light drew closer he willed the thing to swallow him up.
Ardent took one last breath of thick, putrid air as he burst through the threshold.
*---------------------*
Ardent emerged out of the subterranean exit a few seconds later, his lungs burned as
his heart attempted to punch through his chest. He snapped his head back to survey the
encroaching mob, moving as if they were one entity screaming and bawling at him.
Thinking quickly, Ardent dropped the prisoner like a sack of sand on the ground and ran
©Peter Ingham 2010

to the mouth of the cave. He put his finger to the ground and drew a long line in the
sand. The mob crested the hill, their weapons glistening off what little light was present.
His right fist rose into the air, feeling power cord through his muscles, he slammed it
down with an explosive force. The ground shook as blue veins coursed across the width
of the cave and rose up to create a giant stone wall that burst upward like a man
surfacing for air after nearly drowning. Far too close.
Shaking his head he turned to regard the Saladinian captive. “Come on, let‟s go”.
The Saladinian picked herself up from the ground and brushed off the sand from her
clothes. “How are we supposed to get out of here?”
Without saying a word, Ardent clicked his fingers. The prisoner looked around
expectantly, but then after nothing seemed to happen, she put her hands on her hips and
looked at him incredulously.
“What, you can just click your fingers and-”
The sound of a roaring engine cut her off mid sentence as a dark vehicle careered
over a ridge the prisoner stood under. Instinctually the woman covered her head with
her arms and let out a yelp. The vehicle hit the floor like a fist and ground to halt next to
a waiting Ardent, the doors then opened vertically, welcoming him as he entered the
vehicle. The prisoner stood there, gawping in amazement; the machine was more akin to
an all terrain vehicle than it was a car, capable of stalking across the land rather than
driving across it.
“Get in.” Ardent said flatly, and the woman wasted no time in doing so.
©Peter Ingham 2010

Inside, the vehicle was no less impressive than it appeared from its exterior, an array
of switches, monitors and panels illuminated the interior, perpetuating a soft glow. The
prisoner noticed that she was seated in the driving chair and looked quizzically at
Ardent.
“I‟ve set a course for the nearest town in the direction we want to go. It‟s about five
hours drive north easterly.” Ardent said as he made himself more comfortable. “You
can drive.”
“Aren‟t you worried that I could kill you in your sleep?” She said.
“No.” He replied casually.
The prisoner cocked her head. “Why?”
“I don‟t die that easily.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

CHAPTER 2
The prisoner put her hands on the wheel and the engine fired up once more.
“Don‟t you want to know my name?”
“Does it matter?” Ardent replied.
“It‟s Alyssia.” She said sternly, not used to being in the presence of someone so
apathetic when it came to simple social etiquette. “And the pleasure of your name?”
“Ardent” He sighed.
And with that, Alyssia drove off.
A few hours had past when Ardent was woken by the sudden course terrain the ATV
had embarked on. He opened his eyes slightly; the sun threw spears of light through the
forested area they now drove through.
“Glad to see you‟re awake.” Alyssia said without taking her eyes off the road.
Ardent shuffled about in his chair to gain a better vantage of the region they were
now in. “You sure we‟re going in the right direction?”
“We had to take a slight detour, there was a policed checkpoint set up on the road
east of this forest.”
“That‟s unusual; they habitually don‟t stray far from the Obelisks‟ grasp.”
Alyssia began to nod her head in agreement, “It would seem that the towers powers
have been increased somehow.”
Ardent ran a rough hand through his bristled chin, “There must be more Obelisks‟
being erected”.
©Peter Ingham 2010

Again Alyssia nodded her head, “Our-my sources last told me that there was one
that was constructed in the town that we are heading towards.”
“We better keep a low profile then.” Ardent replied as he rested his head against the
side window and began to drift back into his slumber.
*---------------------*
The sunset was graceful in the saloon town of Breckenridge, the purple and orange
hues melted on the horizon which bathed the city in a warm glow. However, the sunset
was overshadowed by a newly erected Obelisk that stood in the centre of the town. The
tower paled in comparison to the one that was located in the subterranean city Ardent
had rescued Alyssia from. But in time, it would reach completion, for now it was in its
infancy. The Obelisks‟ fed off the spirits of its worshippers, using their souls to
construct the dark matter that gave the tower its tangibility; dark matter that also
provided its Cardinals (Speakers being one division of this) with their powers.
The third and final time of benediction was only a few hours away and the people
went about their daily business, whether that was running a small food shop or the busy
bartend shift at the „Crescent Moon‟ hotel. The streets were sparsely littered with people
however, most probably due to the sandstorm that was passing through the area. And it
was under this guise, that Ardent and Alyssia made their way into town.
They had left the ATV a mile outside the town as not to draw any unnecessary
attention to themselves and dressed in weather beaten travelling robes, effectively
masking their true identities. Word travelled like wildfire between towns, even without
©Peter Ingham 2010

the help of the Obelisks‟, when someone spoke, everyone heard. It would not have been
too difficult for him to slip by but he suspected the girl lacked subtlety. They both
headed toward the largest building in town, the „Crescent Moon‟ hotel, which was a
stone‟s throw away from the Obelisk. The building was in surprisingly good shape
considering the mostly dilapidated houses and shops in the rest of Breckenridge. A
gaudy red neon sign was mounted on the large archway above the door and it flickered
irritatingly in the evening light. The building looked as if it had been recently painted a
bland cream colour, but the job was yet to be finished Ardent assumed due to the
abandoned buckets of paint left on a sill. You can’t polish crap.
Ardent pushed through the saloon doors with ease, but cringed slightly at the loud
scratching noise that ensued, like the high pitched squeal of a banshee. He and Alyssia
stopped suddenly, a thousand eyes froze them in place, but only for a second as they
then returned to their drinking and card games. Ardent turned round to Alyssia and leant
in.
“Go find a place to sit; I‟m going to the bar.”, he began to walk away, but Alyssia
shouted to him.
“I‟ll have a water.”
This time he mentally cringed as he made his way over to the bar. There were a few
drunkards hunched over on the stools, whispering sweet nothings into empty shot
glasses. An old bartender in stereotypical garb of a black waist coat-white shirt
combination leaned back on an ale barrel rubbing an empty tankard. Ardent sidled up
and leant on the sticky oak bar, the barman, seeing this slowly walked up to him.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“What‟ll it be?” He asked.
Without raising his head Ardent indicated the amount with his left hand. “Two
whiskies.”
The barman bent under the hood of the bar and returned with two glasses which he
promptly laid down. He then walked over to the shelf where the liquor stood like a
platoon of soldiers and picked up a clear bottle with a murky brown liquid inside. He
began to return when Ardent‟s voice stopped him mid-stride.
“Not that one, the one with the bird on-the good stuff.”
The barman looked at him quizzically, “Sure you can afford it?”
Ardent‟s head remained low, “I wouldn‟t have asked if I couldn‟t.” And with that,
the bartender poured the liquor into the two glasses. Ardent immediately downed one,
and then tapped the bar, indicating a refill.
“Show me your colour.” The bartended said calmly. Ardent stood up and put his
hand into his robes; he pulled out two gold pieces and tossed them onto the bar.
“More than enough.” He said, to which the bartender filled the glass again. He
placed the whisky bottle down as his eyes darted across the room before he leant in
closer to Ardent.
“So, what brings you to these parts then stranger?”
“Worship” Ardent replied casually.
“That‟s good to hear, the Speaker has enriched the lives of his faithful brethren in
this town.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

Ardent lifted his head and looked around the bar. “If this is what you call
„enriched‟.”
The bartender wore a slightly sullen expression, but then his face brightened up.
“The Speaker says that the path to redemption is a long and arduous one and that-”
Not possessing the metal fortitude to listen to the man prattle on, Ardent took his
leave, “See you at the time of benediction.”
*---------------------*
Ardent arrived at a table in the corner of the room where Alyssia sat uncomfortably
in a coarse wooden chair. He set the whisky down on the table and then pulled out a
chair for himself opposite her.
“Enjoy your water.” Ardent said without cracking the slightest of a smile and
Alyssia looked inquisitively at the murky liquid.
“What is it?” She asked.
“Whisky-.just drink it.” Ardent said, starting to become agitated.
Alyssia picked up the drink cautiously and put her lips to the glass, taking a sip. A
few moments past in silence, and then, she downed the rest of it.
“It‟s good.” She exclaimed, and then hiccupped in satisfaction.
“Fantastic.” Ardent replied dryly as he took another sip of his whisky.
The two stayed in the bar for an hour, barely exchanging words, Ardent robotically
returning to the bar when both of them had finished their drinks and by the time the sun
had fully recessed into the horizon the two had nearly drained the bottle. Alyssia had
©Peter Ingham 2010

become quite intoxicated off the potent whiskey and had fallen asleep on the table,
snoring like a child as Ardent watched unmoved. As he was thumbing the empty whisky
glass in his hand the patrons of the bar stood to face the entrance. A deadly silence
blanketed the bar; the crass, noisy, chatter had dissipated into rhythmic breathing shared
by everyone in the room (save Alyssia‟s snoring and Ardent) and the pianist had
stopped playing some rag-time hit. Ardent turned to regard the zombie-like individuals
that now seemed to be acting as one living, breathing entity.
The silence was broken seconds later as the saloon doors swung open and a Speaker
entered the bar.
“My brethren, come, congregate, the time of the third benediction is nigh.” He
announced, and Ardent could make out the glossy smile that starkly contrasted his onyx
coloured garments. The patrons then started to file out of the building methodically,
with an even flow and Ardent thought it best that he and Alyssia follow suit as not to be
discovered. He gave her a quick shove and Alyssia awoke in a drunken haze, Ardent
helped her out of the seat and waited until the Speaker had departed before they left.
Outside there were several hundred people in long lines, all kneeling attentively in
front of the Obelisk. The Speaker stood before his collective audience on a large pulpit
that seemed to act as an extension of his form. He opened his arms wide, like he did
every time, like all the Speakers did, and addressed his captive audience.
“I welcome you brothers and sisters, and lay praise to your unfaltering faith and
resolve. You all have been loyal worshippers and this has not gone unnoticed in our
eyes, for today we have a very special member of our faction here to speak with you.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

This doesn’t bode well. Ardent looked around cautiously, scanning his surroundings
for a visual clue as to who the Speaker was referring to.
“What are we doing?” Alyssia protested in a drunken stupor.
Ardent shot her a glare as did some of the other congregation. “Kneel down and
keep your mouth shut!” And even though his words were no more than a whisper, they
carried the weight of a ton of bricks. Alyssia complied as Ardent leant in. “If we draw
attention to ourselves then we‟re screwed, go that?” She nodded and fell silent.
It didn‟t take long though for him to ascertain where this mystery man was going to
appear from as his entourage made their way from behind the tower. The entourage
consisted of members from „The Raveian guard‟, an elite protection unit of abyss born
bipedal creatures that resembled human females clad in crimson coloured armour. He’s
important.
A few seconds after the guards had positioned themselves in a defensive formation
they nodded to the Speaker, his cue to provide the guest with an introduction. The
Speaker returned briefly to the pulpit to do just that.
“Brothers and sisters please welcome and pay homage to Fourth carrier of the Arc,
Lord Magnus.”
Magnus! Ardent shot up from his knelt position to gain a better view of the
approaching lord. Magnus rounded the corner of the Obelisk and strode powerfully
towards the pulpit; the Speaker moved out of the way with a series of bows as Magnus
took his place. The fourth carrier of the Arc had a straight athletic build with a thin pale
©Peter Ingham 2010

face; he dressed in red leather that clung tightly to his frame. Around his waist he
holstered two oversized magnum pistols.
“Again, I will extend my thanks to all that have come here today seeking
redemption.” He said to the attentive audience, as Alyssia (now slightly more sober)
grabbed Ardent‟s arm and pulled him back down.
“We don‟t want to draw any attention to ourselves.” Echoing his reasoning from
earlier, their positions now switched. After a few tense seconds, he complied. Alyssia
then leaned into his side and asked, “Who is he?”
Through gritted teeth, Ardent replied. “He‟s a higher up, as close as they come to
the top-a real bastard”
Alyssia shot him a concerned glance, “You know him?”
Ardent craned his neck towards the full moon, “We‟ve crossed paths before, a long
time ago.”
“And how did that end?” She asked, and for the first time he stared directly into her
eyes and replied.
“Badly.”
Their attention was then drawn back to Magnus as he began to speak again.
“You should be very proud my fellow brethren for you have been selected to be the
first people to truly experience the Obelisks‟ salvation.” And with that he thrust his arm
up into the air and clenched his fist. The Obelisk‟s runes began to glow with a vile red
hue and throbbed melodically in the moonlight. This is bad. Ardent turned to Alyssia
and grabbed her arm.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“We have to go.” His voice held a firm, urgent timbre.
“Why? What‟s going on?” She replied, suddenly worried.
“It‟s happening again, the redemption process, the town is going to be obliterated for
a mass collection of souls-we only have a few minutes.”
“What?”
Ardent didn‟t have to explain any further at this point in time and yanked Alyssia up
from the ground and pulled her towards the back of one building.
“We need to run as fast as we can to the ATV or we‟ll be caught in the blast.”
The knot that turned in her stomach sobered her more than she thought possible as
she composed herself, ready to flee this place in a trail of dust.
*---------------------*
Magnus still remained at the pulpit, his eyes flickered as the people took flight but
he thought nothing of it, there were more than enough souls here to fill the quota, and
that‟s all the mattered.
“Well, my brothers and sisters, the time of redemption is upon us, you shall each
walk into the saviour‟s arms.”
The crowd cheered wildly, having no clue that their lives were to be snuffed out
within a few minutes. They still stood there in awe, entranced by the Obelisk‟s presence
and the overwhelming sense of euphoria that welled within them. Magnus dismounted
the pulpit and approached the Obelisk; he put his hand up to the stone, the motion
revealing a opening which he entered. A few seconds later the Speaker followed suit,
leaving the inhabitants of the town to grovel in front of the Obelisk. The runes glowed
©Peter Ingham 2010

ever brighter and their frequency had increased tenfold to what they had been at the
beginning of the ceremony. And still the crowd knelt, totally unaware of their
impending deaths, too entranced by the tower to care.
The ground shook violently, spitting up dust off the town‟s floor like detonated
landmines, filling the air in a thick, whirring fog that emulated the sandstorm from
earlier. The crowd began to cough violently as the dust clawed and parched their
throats. Then the shaking stopped and the town became still, like the surface of water
that moments before staged to a storm. The air had become sterile as the area choked in
its protracted silence. A white flash scorched the town, as bright as a thousand suns, the
light laid waste to the populace in the towers wake, evaporating them where they knelt,
leaving no recognition of their existence save the buildings they had once inhabited. The
town fell into silence once more, no birds or cicadas could be heard chirping, even the
tumble weeds had ceased to roll in the breeze-a town once bustling now devoid of all
human life. Another hollow shell. The price of redemption.
*---------------------*
After the town had been „cleansed‟ the door on the Obelisk once again revealed
itself, and out of its black mouth stepped Magnus and the Speaker.
“We‟re done here.” Magnus said as he triumphantly observed the tower‟s
handiwork. “Let‟s move on to the next one.”
“As you wish, my Lord.” With a bow the Speaker began to return to the door of the
tower.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“I‟ll report back to Sentinel, you carry on.” Magnus said, still staring out at the now
empty road where the crowd once knelt. A smile tugged at the sides of his mouth as he
walked back into the tower.
©Peter Ingham 2010

CHAPTER 3
Ardent rolled off Alyssia‟s fleshy body and onto solid sand and gravel. He dusted
himself off and nonchalantly turned round to regard her. He rolled his eyes and then
offered her his hand to which she eagerly accepted. After steadying herself she gawked
incredulously at the husk of a town that had once been teeming with life. Ardent
appeared to be nonplussed by the extermination as he lit a cigarette and marked a trail
back to the ATV.
For him the town was just another cog in an infernal machine, no use getting worked
up over a part you couldn‟t change. There was more at stake to which he kept reminding
himself and Magnus was one of the driving forces behind the Obelisks‟. Not the most
important part, but as close as you came to the wizard behind the curtain.
They had just cleared the blast zone but the shockwave had the potential to deal
considerable damage to Alyssia if Ardent had not of shielded her from its destructive
impact.
“They‟re all gone.” She muttered to herself which broke Ardent‟s gait and he turned
round to confront her, hands on hips.
“There‟s nothing we could‟ve done, to attack while Magnus and his guard were
there would‟ve been suicide.”
“But what happened to them?”
“They were absorbed into the Obelisk and fed through its channels to one main
tower.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

“One main tower.” Alyssia echoed.
Ardent nodded, “The main Obelisk; Primoris, wherever the hell it is.”
“But why did they kill everyone, I thought they needed them.”
“Harvested is the word you‟re looking for. This town didn‟t have that many people
but had enough to make harvesting them worthwhile. Larger cities usually have
something more going for them. They‟re pragmatic about who they harvest.”
“You seem to know quite a lot about them.”
“I should do, knowing your enemy is half the battle. You however, don‟t seem to
know anything which makes me question why you‟re here. Do the Saladinian‟s even
send women out of their enclave?”
“Well-er.”
“Whatever.” He replied, bored of the conversation and walked off.
“Oh and...thank you..again.” She said staring at the ground, “It seems to be
becoming quite a habit of mine”
“Don‟t worry.” Ardent replied, “You can show your gratitude by driving again.”
“How kind.” She remarked dryly as they walked the rest of the way to the ATV.
The two entered the vehicle and sat down, Ardent immediately reclining back and
resting his Stetson over his eyes. The gentle vibration from the engine as it fired up
relaxed Ardent and he could feel the lids of his eyes become weighted. Alyssia
meanwhile pondered what course to take when Ardent tapped the navigational screen
which displayed their next destination. Not bothering to enquire what business he had
©Peter Ingham 2010

there, she put her foot down and vigilantly followed the directions. She had enough
thoughts whirring around her mind like trapped birds in a cage to let one more in.
*---------------------*
After a short while Alyssia‟s original plan to focus on her own inner turmoil fell by
the wayside. This was partly from her curiosity of Ardent but mainly because turning it
over and over again in her mind did nothing but snowball her guilt and anxiety. The
man was asleep, his chest rose rhythmically as the rest of his body lay there motionless.
Not wanting to overtly solicit his attention she scanned the dusty road ahead and her
eyes widened when she found what she was looking for.
Alyssia swerved the vehicle causing the front tire to dive into a gaping pothole in the
road. The ensuing action violently jolted the ATV knocking Ardent‟s head against the
side window, replacing his austere sleepers mask with one of acute annoyance.
“Rough road.” She remarked, not taking her eyes off the road.
He shrugged it off and was about to return to his slumber when Alyssia looked at
him, “It seemed that you had some history with the one they called Magnus”
“We‟ve met before.” He replied, lighting up. He guessed she wasn‟t about to let him
go back to sleep.
“Did you fight him?”
“Not him, another one. Magnus just has something of mine.”
“Has „something‟?”
Ardent swept back his overcoat and tapped an empty holster.
“A gun?” Alyssia said, somewhat surprised. “What did the other take from you?”
©Peter Ingham 2010

Ardent shifted in the seat and brought his Stetson over his eyes. “Something more
important than a gun and that gun is important.” He replied cryptically.
“Something more important that an important gun?” She said bemused, “What‟s
that?”
“Aren‟t you supposed to be driving?” Ardent said irritably.
Alyssia promptly turned her full attention back to the road and carried on. They set a
course for Sentinel; the „gated metropolis‟ as it was known to many as, due to the huge
Sentinel gate that barricade one of the largest Obelisks‟ in the land from the outside city.
Penetrating even the city outside the gate would be a task in itself, but Ardent had
thought of a plan that would provide them with a more „subtle‟ way of entering the city
undetected.
*---------------------*
After a few hours of rest Ardent opened his eyes. The setting sun exhaled soft
oranges intertwined with lazy purples that reminded him of water spilled on oil paint as
the colours bled out. He checked the ATVs navigational system and saw that they were
still a good few hours away from their destination. He lit himself a cigarette and then
turned to regard Alyssia.
“So,” He started, “Let‟s hear some of this information you have about Sentinel.”
Her eyes darted around awkwardly. “It‟s that good is it?” He asked sarcastically.
“What was I supposed to say?” Alyssia said, both offended and slightly worried,
“You would have let me die if I hadn‟t made rescuing me seem worth it.”
“That so?” He replied calmly, a slightly sinister look crossing his face.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“I guess now I could just kill you, if you have no use.”
“You wouldn‟t-I‟ll crash!” Her grip tightened on the wheel.
Alyssia‟s eyes locked with Ardent‟s, eyes narrowed. Unable to keep the facade up
any longer his face showed the makings of a smirk as he shook his head and turned to
gaze out of the window.
“I‟m sure you‟ll have time to prove yourself useful. Besides, who could chauffeur
me around?”
“I‟ll chauffeur you off the nearest cliff.” She remarked under hear breath which only
contrived to upturn his lips further.
*---------------------*
After several hours of driving, the Sentinel gate rose up from the horizon, framed by
the setting sun. It was an imposing site, the same onyx black as the giant Obelisks‟ that
were dotted around the land like ink spots on an atlas. And the one housed behind the
Sentinel gate was just as daunting as the rest of them, devoid of light, shrouded in
darkness. Ardent shuffled in the passenger‟s seat, suddenly animated.
“We‟re going to have to pull up in the next city, a few miles from here. They check
everyone going into Sentinel, so we can‟t just ride in there.”
“So what‟s the plan then?” Alyssia said calmly.
“There‟s a city just outside Sentinel, Deenar, we can stowaway on an air freighter.”
Ardent said, gesturing to the ships that were passing to and fro between cities. “The
place acts as dock off point, so the ships can refuel and be maintained. We can make our
move from there.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

“I‟m slightly sceptical of the whole thing.” She replied flatly.
“It worked last time.” He stated while staring at the city.
They pressed on for a couple of hours until they came to the gate of the air-port
town; Ardent tipped the brim of his hat low, covering his face as they approached the
guards at the entrance. One of the men; in a black jacket and crooked teeth rapped on
the driver‟s side window, indicating for her to „roll it on down‟. Alyssa complied, and
the man stuck his beak like nose through the gap to address the two.
“What‟re you here fo‟?”
Alyssia looked to Ardent, who made no offer to help her, just sat there motionless.
She looked around nervously and her eyes fell on to a large poster of a group of
burlesque dancers.
“We‟re here to see the dancers.”
He looked at her with a lewd smile. “You‟re here to audition to dance at the Velvet
Shades?”
“Err, yes.” She replied with a brimming smile.
A look of concern then crossed the unsightly man‟s face. “Then who‟s he?”
“My manager!” Alyssia said without missing a beat.
“Hm” The guard stroked his wiry beard “Will you let me have the first dance?”
Alyssia had to strain a smile, as she was on the verge on cringing in disgust. “Sure
thing.” She said.
The guard smiled a wide toothless gawp and then waved for them to head into
Deenar. The ATV passed through the armoured gates and they found themselves in the
©Peter Ingham 2010

heart of the city. The urban environment was awash with neon lights and flashing signs.
People lined the streets, a mix of gamblers, prostitutes, drunks and vagrants wandered
about, few with purpose or drive.
“It‟s like two different ends of the spectrum.” Alyssia said, “I‟m not used to seeing
places like this, the cities we target are usually inhabited by devout followers of the
Obelisks‟.”
“The Obelisks‟ still have a firm grip, they just decided what area it‟s most
advantageous to tighten it” Ardent said. “Everyone still turns up at the times of
benediction you can bet on that, it all fits somewhere into their reason d‟être.”
She looked to him concerned. “Do you remember when it was different? I was kept
away from it all until the Saladinian people decided to intervene.”
Ardent rolled down the window, lit a cigarette and then stared at the flaming match
as it burned down to his fingers.
“There used to be bits of grey,” the match scorched his fingers, “half a decade ago
colour infiltrated the spectrum, it was commonplace.” Ardent took a drag from the
cigarette. “No one knows where they came from, if it was some back water religious
sect that exploded into mass society, or if they came from another world. It doesn‟t
really matter now, they‟re everywhere and we seem to be fighting a losing battle.”
“But it‟s not going to be like that forever. You‟ve made a difference, I saw it, and
you brought me here to make a difference.”
Ardent looked at her sceptically. “Ever the optimist.” he then flicked the cigarette
butt out of the window. “Park up over there.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

The ATV pulled into an underground parking facility and they both exited the
vehicle. Alyssia followed Ardent as he made his way out of the building and onto the
surface streets.
“Where do we need to go now, the docks?” She said.
Ardent looked at her confused, “You think we can just waltz onto the ship?”
“Err”
“We‟re heading to your new place of employment.” And he gesticulated towards the
Velvet Shades Burlesque club.
“That was just a cover story.” She said defiantly.
“It‟s a hot spot for travelling captains and pilots, it shouldn‟t be hard to locate one
whilst were there. Then, it‟s up to you to get his identification.”
“And how do you figure I do that?”
“Give him a dance, the girls usually get close enough to do whatever they want,
their clients minds are usually, preoccupied.” Ardent then began to walk away, in a
rage, Alyssia stormed after him.
“You expect me to just do this?” she shouted.
“Weren‟t you the one who was talking about making a difference?” He said smugly.
Alyssia tried to protest “But”, she had apparently set herself up and dropped her
arms by her sides in defeat.
“Let‟s go.” He said, and they both began to walk towards the club.
*---------------------*
©Peter Ingham 2010

It didn‟t take them long to navigate through the crowded streets, it was a fairly linear
path, Ardent thought to himself that they needed to be straightforward else the idiotic
inhabitants might not be able to drag themselves from one den of iniquity to the other.
They stood outside the Velvet Shades and watched the people enter and exit the
building. The club dwarfed most of the other buildings in the area, in the volume of
people that frequented its halls and the sordid opulence that it vomited from the
foundations.
“I‟m gonna go in and scout the place for a suitable mark-you come in five minutes
and I‟ll give you a signal, then go over and get the ID from him.”
“It‟s as simple as that then?” She said unconvincingly.
“It is if you want it to be.” He replied as he made his way into the club, leaving her
stood there with a look of bemusement.
*---------------------*
Ardent walked into the club‟s main area, hat tipped low. The bar curled itself around
the far side of the room, booths sat to the side of him and the dancers‟ area awaited
Alyssia up velvet coated stairs. He waded through the crowd and took a seat at the bar.
A few dancers tried accosting him on the way but he didn‟t care for them, he‟d never
felt the compulsion to indulge in one-night-stands which is what they were always
gunning for. Perching himself at the bar he ordered his usual bird label whisky and
sipped at it nonchalantly while scanning the club for a mark. It didn‟t take long until one
particularly haggard captain entered the bar with his crew. The group were rowdy,
grabbing girls off other patrons and stealing drinks from tables. Perfect.
©Peter Ingham 2010

The captain sauntered over to a corner booth and gracefully tossed a paying
customer aside, then promptly sat down with his gang in tow. Ardent motioned for one
of the dancers to come over to his side and she eagerly complied.
“And what can I do for you sweetie?” The girl asked him while thumbing her bra
strap.
“I want to set up a private dance for a friend of mine over there.” Ardent nodded
towards the captain, who had wedged himself in the booth.
“You want me to dance for that thing?” she remarked in disgust.
“I just want you to take him to a private booth upstairs; I have someone who will do
the dancing,.” He then reached into his jacket, retrieved a few gold coins and put them
in her hand, “There‟s something for the effort.”
The dancer smiled and then walked off to the hulking captain. After a few seconds
the man rose from his seat and took the dancers petite hand in his own as she lead him
up the stairs to the clubs private area. As they were about half way up the stairs Alyssia
entered the club and picked Ardent out at the bar. Their gazes locked and he motioned
towards the large man ascending the larger red staircase. The bulky captain
momentarily fazed her; she felt his frame so large that her eyes may not have been able
to take him in if he were closer. Reminding herself of her earlier speech she straightened
up and strode towards the stairs. Ardent downed the rest of his drink in silent victory
and then ordered another. Not long now.
*---------------------*
©Peter Ingham 2010

Alyssia tailed the large man being led by the dancer all the way to the outskirts of
the private room. She had never been required to do anything like this in all her years on
the planet. Her people were an intelligent race, devoid of anything like this club in the
Saladinian homeland. It felt very alien to her, but there was also the undercurrent of
excitement that coursed through her veins, the adrenaline of the moment.
When she reached the dancers floor the captain was lead into a side room that had a
beaded door separating it from the rest of the establishment. In reflection the private
booths were more for the aesthetic of wealth and power than veiling anything untoward
that occurred. There was enough of that out in the open of this place .The dancer set the
man down on a large couch and then exited the room. She caught a glimpse of Alyssia
and the two exchanged smiles as they passed each other. Alyssia parted the beads and
walked slowly into the room trying to be as seductive as she could manage. The
captain‟s wheezing increased at the sight of the shapely woman and she took solace in
the fact that whatever she seemed to be doing was working.
Alyssia walked up to the pole that stood before the couch in the room and latched
her hands onto the cold metal support. At first, her moves were slightly strained and
awkward, but then she was able to work out a smooth rhythm, wrapping around the pole
like a snake and twisting her hips around. The captain was ensconced in the seat; slack
jawed with drool starting to collect in his mouth. Alyssia danced for a few more minutes
and then decided that it was time she made her move. She let go of the pole and leant in
towards him, slipping her left hand into his jacket pocket as her right stroked his chest,
diverting his attention. Bingo. The card was inside of his pocket and she carefully lifted
©Peter Ingham 2010

it, her adroit hand latching onto it without soliciting his attention. Keeping him occupied
she slid it down the back of her outfit. She began to pull away from him when he
grabbed her forcefully by the arm and dragged her close enough to feel his putrid breath
on her cheek. I’m caught.
*---------------------*
Ardent drummed his fingers on the bar. Was she taking too long? Had she been
caught? This is why he hated relying on other people, when you screw up, you only
have yourself to blame, when someone else screws up you blame them, and yourself.
There was an underlying feeling of anxiousness and a pang in his gut-worry. He loathed
himself at that moment. Whatever happens, happens. He took another shot of whisky
and let the concern be washed to the back of his mind, where it belonged.
*---------------------*
The man spoke before she had chance to say let alone think anything else. “We‟re
not done here yet.” He said with a lewd smile.
Alyssia looked at him revolted, “Let me go. I‟m warning you.”
The captain laughed her threat off and tried to pull her in closer. He was in for a
surprise though, as he had no idea of the inherent strength that the Saladinian race
carried. With minimal effort she flung the man aside, sending him flying through the
beaded door. He rolled across the floor, knocking over a few patrons like a fleshy
bowling bowl.
©Peter Ingham 2010

As Alyssia ran down the stairs the captain attempted to regain some coherence and
shouted down to his gang below. “Make sure that bitch doesn‟t make it out of here
alive!”
*---------------------*
Ardent could see Alyssia scurrying down the large staircase in fervour. She must
have pulled it off. The big man soon followed and he could predict where the situation
was going. The captain shouted down to his men who immediately shot up from their
seated positions. Damn.
Ardent grabbed the bottle of whisky that rested on the bar next to him and flipped it
upside down as he spun out from his stool. He let the vessel fly towards the thugs, the
liquor flowing out as it hurtled through the air. Using his boot as a flint, Ardent scraped
the metal stirrup against the dry wooden floor causing sparks to flare off and ignite the
spilt whisky. The fire hungrily ate at the liquor as it raced towards the bottle neck and
when it had reached its destination Ardent clicked his right fingers, causing the rune he
had inscribed on the bottle to explode. The bottle spat a fiery liquid over the men,
immediately drowning them in a sea of screaming anguish and burning flesh.
This explosion caused the captain to freeze in his tracks and everyone in the room
(save Ardent and Alyssia) to hit the deck. They used the diversion to make their escape
and bolted out of the club. Outside on the street, people gawped at the club in
bewilderment as smoke seeped from the doors and windows. The two kept on running,
and after several minutes they came across a small hotel to which Ardent signalled for
them to enter.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“We should be ok now,” Ardent said “they won‟t be able to find us here.” He then
looked around to make sure they had some privacy. “Did you get the card?”
Alyssia put her hand around her back, pulled the card out and handed it to Ardent.
“Thanks, I knew you‟d make yourself useful.”
She beamed a smile his way, “I did warn him.”
“I knew your people had strength,” Ardent replied, eying the place up, “didn‟t know
you had that much.”
“Yes, my parents used to I was stronger than my bro...” The warm smile drained
from her face, replaced with a sombre longing. Turning away she asked, “What are we
going to do now?”
He purposely ignored her “We should get some rest” He said, looking around. “The
next castoff is at dawn, we‟ll set off to the yard an hour before so we have to time to
board undetected.”
“At least we get a little rest then.” Alyssia replied as Ardent walked to the front
desk.
He arranged a room for them to stay in, it was a cramped chamber and a stale odour
hung in the air from poor upkeep and the occasional sheet change.
“There‟s only one bed!” Alyssia exclaimed.
Ardent walked over to the window and sat himself on the sill. “You take it, you‟ve
earned it. I‟ll keep a look out.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

“Yay.” She threw her hands in the air and then collapsed on the bed, but winced
when she felt the hard frame underneath her. It didn‟t take her long to get reasonably
comfortable though and she was sleeping soundly soon enough.
Ardent opened the window slightly and took out another cigarette from his packet,
lit it, and then took a long drag and blew the smoke onto the glass pane. He traced his
fingers delicately on the clouded glass, as if caressing a lover‟s face, then, after gazing
at it for a few seconds, rubbed it away. He finished his cigarette and flicked it out of the
window. Ardent rested his head against the wood of the window cubby, the events of
the day weighed heavy on his eyes and it wasn‟t long before he drifted off.
*---------------------*
While the sun still lay dormant under the horizon, it was the birds that tugged at
Ardent‟s eyelids. He lit himself his morning cigarette and took a long drag, savouring
the taste of tobacco. He sat there for a few minutes staring out into the street; the roads
were still busy with people, mostly wandering in post-drunken hazes stumbling
aimlessly about. After disposing of his cigarette, Ardent extracted himself from the sill
and wandered over the bed where Alyssia slept. He gave her a slight nudge on the
shoulder to rouse her and after a few shoves, she reluctantly complied.
“We have to go” He said as Alyssia let out a long yawn and rubbed her eyes
wearily.
©Peter Ingham 2010

They headed downstairs and exited the hotel. It was a mile walk to the port where
the ship was docked and they made it through the security checkpoint with ease by
using their newly acquired ID card.
“The ship will be casting off in about an hour; we should have enough time to
secure a decent position below deck.” Ardent told Alyssia as they walked down the port
where the ship was anchored. It was fairly simple for them to gain access onto the ship,
there was no security on the vessel to speak of, only a few cleaners and dock workers
who were loading supplies onto the ship. They navigated through the deck of the vessel
and into the bowels of the metal craft. In the lowest section they found a room full of
large crates. They searched the room until a suitable place to hide presented itself in the
form of one large weapon container which Ardent assumed had been emptied for use in
the ships arsenal. Ardent heaved the metal door open and they both entered as silently as
they could.
Inside the container, the air was humid and thick with dust. There were a few holes
in the top and sides of the box which slowly ebbed in light, giving their faces a soft
glow. Ardent and Alyssia made themselves as comfortable as possible on the cold metal
floor and waited until it was time for the ship to begin its journey into Sentinel. After an
hour passed in silence with no movement whatsoever the two finally heard the engines
roar into action and the ship cast off from port.
*---------------------*
©Peter Ingham 2010

The ship blazed a trail through the sky toward the great gated metropolis of Sentinel
leaving the decadent city of Deenar behind. The airships all followed a designated route
toward Sentinel, so that they could all be closely monitored and accounted for. And this
vessel was no different from the rest; it cruised along the air currents, making good time
for such a large craft.
The ship‟s crew went about their business, cleaning, hauling sacks about and
manning the engines while the captain nursed a bruised cheek (and ego) in his cabin.
Meanwhile, Ardent and Alyssia huddled in the crate located deep in the ships haul. The
air had grown thicker due to the poor circulation and the two felt like they were slowly
roasting in the container. Alyssia started to squirm in frustration and when she couldn‟t
make herself as comfortable as she would have liked she let out a disparaging sigh.
“How much longer?” She said with a whine.
“A few more hours, just try to relax.” Ardent replied.
A few minutes passed with Alyssia still fidgeting around in the container, but then
she stopped suddenly and looked at him in the dim glow.
“Ardent” She said with a pensive tone.
“Yeh?” He replied, resting his head against the metal wall of the room.
“When do you think I‟ll be able to get in contact with another Saladinian?”
“I don‟t know,” He replied, looking into the blackness as he tried to pull an answer
from the air. “It‟s too risky at the moment; you‟d probably know the best way to do it.”
Her head sunk into her lap, “It‟s just I have to tell them...” She trailed off.
“Tell who, your people?” Ardent asked.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“No,” Alyssia replied, her voice beginning to crack, “my parents.”
“To tell them you‟re alive?”
“Yes...and about my brother.”
“He was with you, when you were in the subterranean city, I take it he didn‟t make
it out.”
The events of the past few days had finally caught up with her now she had time to
fully digest them. The gravity of the situation weighed her down and she felt as if her
body had been nailed to the floor. The girl broke down; tears welled up in her eyes and
drew lines across her cheeks as they poured down her face. Ardent felt an all too
familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“You need to be quiet. They‟ll hear us” Insensitive as he may sound, there was an
air of pragmatism in his words, amongst other things.
“You‟re worried if we get caught?” She screamed at him, “I‟ve done nothing but
what you‟ve said for the past few days.”
Her voice echoed in the room, reverberating off the metal walls and crates.
“C‟mon.” He pleaded, his voice now showing signs of anger.
“He‟s dead; don‟t you know what that‟s like, that feeling? All you do is cause
death!”
Ardent snapped, getting up from the floor he strode over and grabbed her by the
shoulders. “I know it all too well.” He said through gritted teeth, “You tell me how it
would feel if you didn‟t just lose one person, but everyone you ever cared about.”
©Peter Ingham 2010

She looked at him for a moment, the loss in his eyes bore through her, she had to
look away. He too could see the anguish on her face, and felt the moist droplets of tears
land on his hands. Ardent released her, his hands trembling as he walked to the other
end of the crate. He rested his hand on the wall and let out a sigh. Trapped within his
own mind he failed to notice when Alyssia had stopped weeping. He turned round to
regard her.
“What happened?” She asked, her eyes still red.
“It doesn‟t matter.” Ardent replied, shifting his gaze.
“Please,” said Alyssia, her voice now firm but with a hint of desperation “I need to
know I‟m not alone...I...need to know what to do-what happened?”
Ardent brought his right hand up to one of the punctures of light and stared at it
intently. “This happened,” he said while gesticulating towards his hand. “They came to
the town that I lived in and set up one of their Obelisks‟. Everyone became entranced
with it, the villagers, my friends...my wife. At first I thought it was good for the village,
people seemed happier, life improved, I didn‟t take much notice that people started to
become more devout, verging on fanatical. That was, until one day he showed up.”
“Magnus?” Alyssia whispered.
“No, it was the first carrier of the Arc, Riddock.” Ardent replied. “He came to the
village and orchestrated the whole ceremony.”
“Just like at Breckenridge” She said with her eyes wide. “But how did you survive?”
“When the ritual was taking place, everyone stood there like statues, even my wife, I
couldn‟t get through to her no matter how hard I tried. I saw Riddock go into the
©Peter Ingham 2010

Obelisk so I followed him in there. I ended up inside the tower, and he was there
waiting for me with the Arc.”
“The Arc?”
“A large rectangular gold box, it had insignia on it that I couldn‟t understand.
Riddock held me down and made me watch as he opened it. Light flooded out and
burned my eyes; I saw the village and my wife die, turned to dust by the tower‟s wrath.
I passed out, when I awoke I was in the desert, the tower was nowhere to be seen, I
imagine they planned to leave me for dead.”
“What happened to you?”
“I stumbled into some village, barely conscious. They were good enough to help me
recover. I stayed there for a while, but one day I became ill. My arm felt like it was
going to explode; no one knew what the problem was. I started to dream of the tower
and my village every night, felt like I was reliving it all. I also started to remember
things I had never experienced, I understood the symbols I saw on the arc, could write
them myself. Then one day my arm turned into this, I gained all these abilities which I
couldn‟t control. One night I was having a nightmare where I was fighting with Riddock
and when I woke up I had destroyed half of the village. I fled from the place, and
decided to track down Riddock and the Arc that had done this to me.”
“Is that how you turned up in the subterranean city?” She asked, fitting the pieces of
the puzzle in her mind.
©Peter Ingham 2010

“Yes” He replied, “That was my third tower I have gone up against, although not so
successfully this time. If I keep following the towers then I figure I‟ll find Riddock and
the Arc.”
“That‟s why were heading to Sentinel.” Alyssia stated.
“It‟s one of the biggest Obelisks‟ out there, a good a place as any to try.”
“We‟ll bring it down.” She said determined.
Ardent chuckled, “Ever the optimist,” and then pulled the Stetson over his eyes.
The ship continued its route through the sky, drawing ever closer to the metropolis.
Not long now.
©Peter Ingham 2010

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Peter Ingham Extract about 11,000 words

First Floor, 2 Barb Mews

©Peter Ingham 2010

Devil Theory .................................................................................................................................................. 1

©Peter Ingham 2010

most importantly death, all rolled into one.

©Peter Ingham 2010

with his arms extended wide to address the fervid crowd.

©Peter Ingham 2010

our hopes and dreams for their own selfish agendas.”

like a knife in the recipient‟s chest.

have worked for?”

©Peter Ingham 2010

Obelisk could distinguish.

vicarious satisfaction in the broken form before him.

thankful for that at least.”

©Peter Ingham 2010

traitor‟s death. The Speaker lapped it up hungrily.

“Justice has been delivered!” He proclaimed.

gesticulating for his attentive audience to quieten down.

Again the audience scanned each other with accusing glances.

“Bring out the Saladinian prisoner”

we have saved her especially for judgement this day”

©Peter Ingham 2010

atop the towers highest point stood Ardent.

©Peter Ingham 2010

into the stone below him, stealing his footing.

“Be still followers of the tower, order has been restored.”

structure once again aligned itself.

“Let us continue with the execution”

©Peter Ingham 2010

“We shall skip the last words Saladinian”

the cacophony of grinding metal.

bowling him over.

shadowed sleeve and thrust the tip accusingly toward Ardent.

©Peter Ingham 2010

“Is it really worth your life though?” Ardent reasoned.

hovered the Speaker.

into the tower.

©Peter Ingham 2010

time was running out.

“Help me” A voice pleaded from behind him.

altar. “I don‟t need any dead weight.”

“What makes you think that I need your help?”

“Because without me you won‟t be able to get past Sentinel”

decision. Angry mobs moved awfully quickly.

After a few seconds of procrastination he rushed over to untie the restrained

moonlight could be seen struggling to filter through.

©Peter Ingham 2010

He‟d have plenty of time if-no-when, they got out.

©Peter Ingham 2010

surfacing for air after nearly drowning. Far too close.

clothes. “How are we supposed to get out of here?”

looked at him incredulously.

“What, you can just click your fingers and-”

driving across it.

©Peter Ingham 2010

“No.” He replied casually.

The prisoner cocked her head. “Why?”

“I don‟t die that easily.”

©Peter Ingham 2010

“Don‟t you want to know my name?”

“Does it matter?” Ardent replied.

And with that, Alyssia drove off.